Chemistry of Death (2023–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - Episode #1.3 - full transcript

With Hunter and Jenny both in danger, they must work together to outsmart the killer if they hope to survive. After the events in Manham, Hunter is called onto a new case on a remote Scottish island where burnt human remains have ...

This body's been here
twelve months at least.

Care to hazard a cause of death?

Blunt force cranial damage.

- Someone smashed her head in?
- Not her.

We've got a DNA match
for the lad in the woods.

The same DNA as Sally Palmer?

Alan Ratcliffe,
a close blood relative.

Ah, yes. I remember Alan.

I treated him for Lyme disease.

That's Dr Maitland, Henry.

Has he always been in a chair?



Road accident. He lost his wife
in the accident.

No, no, you're wet.
Your clothes are all wet.

Whose clothes are these?

How's Granddad?

In the bedroom, sleeping.

I'm at George Mason's caravan,
top end of Farnham Woods.

I've just found him dead.
Decorated like the others.

I think it's all Dan.

You shouldn't be here,
Dr Hunter.

You can't be here!

I've got her, I've got Jenny.
She's gone into hypo.

Henry! Check her pulse.

Ambulance are on the way.
How's she doing?

- Hmm, what?
- I'm sorry, David.



How about Belize?

There's a giant marine sinkhole
just off the coast

called the Great Blue Hole.

Jacques Cousteau said it was
one of the best diving sites.

Midnight parrot fish,

turtles,

Caribbean reef sharks.

It's 150 metres deep.

They'd never find us down there.

Amongst the sharks.

Safer than here.

And we get to be together.

Don't you want to swim
with a turtle?

What?

What the fuck?

Please, Henry.

Get in the car.

Now.

Please!

You have done this!

Hello, Dr Maitland.

Dan.

Is he hurt?

Yes.

Like a bird
who's lost his wing, yeah?

Yeah.

Mr Anders says
when animals are hurt,

you have to give them
back to nature, yeah?

That's right.

And we don't want any of God's
creatures suffering, do we?

No.

If you want, Dr Maitland,
I can take it from here.

I know what he needs.

Thank you, Dan.

That's very kind of you.

Maybe we shouldn't
tell anyone about this.

We don't want them to be sad.

Yeah, no.

Perhaps you could swing by
the surgery tomorrow?

You want me to cut the grass?

Yes, Dan...

I do.

Okay.

I love you, you know that?

We'll work it out, I promise.

Things will be better than ever.

Afraid all my life now

Got no time for the dark in me

Now I breathe

Now I breathe

I'm calm but I talk
like a waterfall

Taking more and more
until I burst

And then I can't live
with the aftermath

I'm cursed

And then I can't live
with the aftermath

I'm cursed

David.

David.

You need to focus.

David!

Just a small dose of ketamine.
You'll be fine.

This syringe

contains 125 milligrams
of morphine.

If any police
enter the building, David,

nothing they do
will save your lady friend here.

- David?
- I warned you!

(slurring) Get out! Get out.

- Leave, get out.
- Get off my property!

- Get back, get back, get back!
- Now!

Okay.

- You don't...
- Have to do this.

No, she...

She's done nothing to you.

There you go again
with your reason and logic.

You're not well.

Do you really think
patronising me

is a good way to go right now?

You don't...

You don't want to kill her.

The colour of her lips

suggests her fate
may already be sealed.

You can make this alright.

We can... save her.

You, you can save her.

Oh, fuck off,
you tiresome fucking prick!

Please.

Please, please, please, please.

You are still
the same snivelling,

whining, naval-gazing wretch
that showed up on my doorstep.

You haven't even asked me
what I want.

It doesn't matter.

Not even a little curious?

To live with...
with so little imagination,

are... are you sure your wife
didn't drown herself on purpose?

Ah, there he is, he lives.

What do you want?

I want... you to suffer.

Why?

For ruining me.

After everything
I have done for you.

A home, a job.

Endless nights listening
to your pitiful whining.

I gave you back your life
and this is how you repay me?

- Helping the police?
- Traitor!

So, now I shall simply
restore you

to the state
in which I found you.

Snivelling over yet another
woman you have failed to save.

Betrayal.

She died, what...

four or five years ago.

Same time as Sally's brother.

A coincidence.

That's it.

They were lovers, weren't they?

A dalliance, nothing more.

But maybe it was for her.

Maybe she was dreaming
of escaping you

while she was fucking
a younger man.

Do not talk about my wife!

I'm going to fucking kill you!

Come here!

Get in now! Get in here now!

Move! Move!

Come on! Hurry up!

She's gonna be okay.

Dr Maitland
made a full confession.

It all started
when he caught Sally's brother

having an affair with his wife.

So, Sally came to town,
looking for her brother.

And found out about the affair.

What about Dan?

Dr Maitland somehow found a way
of getting inside his head.

So, it was him that was...
disposing of the bodies?

Yeah, I'm not entirely sure
he even knew

that what he was doing
was wrong.

Will he stand trial?

He'll need
a full psych evaluation.

What... what about Linda?

Maitland again.

Covering his tracks.

When you mentioned the letter,

he couldn't be sure what else
Sally might have told her.

Hey, don't even go there.

It's not your fault, David.

I wish that were true.

I don't understand
why people do what they do.

My job is simply
to determine the facts.

But I do know
when someone's got a gift.

And something tells me
you need to use yours.

You need to get me another job.

Er, you do know
it's four in the morning?

You got me back into this.
You owe me.

Have they, er...

Have they said anything more?

Hmm, they said I can leave
tomorrow or the day after.

Good.

Yeah.

I really want to go back
to school soon.

- You sure?
- Yeah.

I... need things
to feel ordinary.

But I'm not sure
you're ready for that.

You know my favourite part
of sailing?

The moment where...

the boat's just drifting.

Then suddenly...

the sail fills...

and you're moving.

Sometimes you just need to go
where the wind takes you.

Then that's what I'll do.

Why don't you take some time?

What have you got?

Okay, a favour
for a friend of mine

is all I've got to offer you,

if, erm... confirmation
of an accidental death

isn't beneath your pay grade?

I don't have a pay grade.

Alright, DCI Wallace based
out of Glasgow,

but he also covers
the Western Isles.

Body found on the island of Runa
a couple of days ago.

But his team are busy
with a train crash.

He needs someone ASAP.

Okay.

Okay, I'll see myself out.

Best to look at the horizon.

It's to do with your inner ear

and your eyes
seeing different things.

Yeah, thank you.
Thank you, I know.

Course, sorry. I...

I haven't had the chance to work
with forensics before, so...

Hiya, Mary love, it's me.

Tickets?

Erm, listen,
I'll see you tonight.

I'm on my way, okay? Love you.

Nearly went without you
back there, Maggie.

No, you wouldn't.
My gran would kill you.

Here, who's that that came
on the boat with the police?

Don't know.

Hello, are you the pathologist?

Er, you are?

Detective Andrew Brody. Retired.

David Hunter,
forensic anthropologist.

You found the body
and contacted DCI Wallace?

Aye, I wanted my information
acted on.

A small island like ours

tends to get pushed to the back
of the queue, otherwise.

Oh, I'm sure.

You two thinking
of walking there?

Best not keep Sergeant Fraser waiting.

In you go, girl, up you go,
come on.

- Thank you.
- Come on, girl.

On you come, girl.

Good. There we go.

Oh, whose is the camper van?

Oh, it's mine.

I've been using it
to keep an eye on things

since I found the body.

But as far as I can tell,
nobody's been up here.

- Right.
- But look,

if you want me
to leave it behind,

if you think you can use it?

Ah, there you go,
home sweet home.

What?

- Right, we'll be off.
- Okay.

If you need me,
you know where I am.

Thank you.

Okay.

Jesus fuck.

Oh, my God.

Are you okay?

Yeah, yeah, I'll be alright.

Have you ever seen
anything like this?

No, it's a highly unusual burn.

Wallace would have
been better off

getting Mulder and Scully.

Windows are sealed,
no sign of water ingress.

Modest risk of contamination,

otherwise site integrity
remains sound.

- What does that mean?
- We work here.

Duncan has ambitions for CID.

- Mm-hmm.
- Well, if you can,

it's always best to study
a body in situ.

Context is everything.

Yeah, well, context is saying

that some druggie just passed
out on his fucking candle.

Right, let's get working lights
set up,

er, outer and inner perimeter.

No, it's clearly an accident.

I mean, look at the place.

Well, presumption doesn't
dictate process.

And you can lose these.

The DNA will have been
destroyed in the fire.

- Sure.
- Okay.

Thank you.

Given the right
temperature, everything burns.

Wood, clothing, people.

At 250 degrees Celsius,
flesh will ignite,

skin blacken
and muscle contract.

Of the soft tissue, the organs
are always the last to go.

Cocooned in moistness,

they will hold out
till the bitter end.

But bone is different.

It resists the hottest of fires,

often retaining
its ghostly shape

even when all the carbon
has been burned from it.

A final bastion stubbornly
clinging to the memories

of a life once lived.

No, I have to make the bed.

I'll help.

You're not the kind of help
I need.

I'm good with beds.

Fire was highly localised

and must have been intensely hot
to reduce the body to ash.

Radiant heat has scorched
surrounding objects,

but nearby mattress remains untouched.

Hip bones too wide for a man,

head of the humerus too narrow.

It's cumulative.
Either one could be marginal.

But together,
they suggest a female.

Alright. How many fire sources
are you seeing?

Okay, so we have the one
in the hearth

and that smaller one,

but aren't they too far
from the body to be the cause?

Not so simple.

No one stays still
when they catch fire,

even if they're unconscious.

The body's instinct is always
to save itself.

Of course. Erm, well, could
an accelerant have been used?

That's a good question.

Erm, haven't smelt
any residual benzine

and accelerants like petrol
don't burn hot enough.

Plus...

The fire would have spread
and the whole cottage gone up.

But it's rare, surely,

I mean, no, no fire damage
to the building?

- It's certainly a first for me.
- Marvellous.

Let's call it a day for now,
start again in the morning.

If you could start sealing
the building up, please?

Yeah, sure.

Come on, he'll be here soon.

Get a wriggle on, then.
I need five more minutes.

Oh, come on.

- Oi.
- Oh.

No...

Nice to have money to burn.

- Who lives there?
- Strachans.

Came to Runa
from God knows where.

Started chucking money around,

fixed roads, school,
medical clinic.

Isn't that good?

Well, makes them think
that they own the place.

Officials have
confirmed that the derailment

of a passenger train was caused
by a terrorist attack.

- The train, which was...
- Hello?

- ...hundreds of passengers...
- Hi, Josie.

- Hey, lovely, how are you doing?
- Good.

- Oh, I need a drink.
- Coming up.

Ta, and I've been calling Mary
all day to tell her I'm coming.

And no answer, I guess?

Don't suppose you've managed
to hold her down?

- You'll find her in the kitchen.
- Ah.

She's been better,
but she's doing okay.

She's looking forward
to that holiday.

That makes two of us.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Oh, sorry, er, Dr Hunter.

"Ellen" is what she forgot
to say.

I wasn't sure what time
you'd be arriving,

but your room's ready,
if you want to follow me.

Thank you, I'll be down.

Aye.

Alice.

Oh, her name's Anna,

and I've told her
it's past bedtime.

I can't sleep.
The sea's too loud.

Oh, funny how it didn't bother
you last week. Bed, young lady.

I'll come to you once I've shown
Dr Hunter his room.

Talking of, room's not
very grand, I'm afraid.

Oh, I'm sure it's fine.

Oh, always the way, oh, hey.

Er, there's no Wi-Fi, so you can
plug into the phone line.

There's no taxis on the island,

so guests borrow my car
when needed.

She's not a Porsche
but she's tough.

I'm-I'm sorry about the muddle
with Anna.

She's used to all kinds,
living here.

The Met Office

has issued a severe weather
warning for Storm Marnie,

which is due to hit
the west coast of Scotland

later this evening.

Severe flooding is expected,
and high winds are anticipated

across most of Scotland
and northwest England.

That's considerably
further north than before.

They're the coordinates.

Four?

Six.

That's not what we agreed.

Now, I told you from the start,
four per trip, max.

So, say no.

48-hour turnaround,
no different any other times.

It's too big a risk.

I want 30 percent.

See, that is what I admire, Ian.

A man who's not afraid
to speak his mind.

How's that son of yours?

Capable lad, I hear.

If he ever fancies
broadening his horizons,

be sure to let me know.

Hey.

- Hello.
- Where are you?

Erm... the Outer Hebrides.

Oh.

An island called Runa.

Okay.

I thought you were kidding.

No.

What are you doing, David?

Er...

I'm not sure.

A job.

Sounds like a long way
to go for a job.

I think the wind blew me here.

You don't mind me calling?

No, I like hearing your voice.

Stay safe, David.

And you.

Made yourself at home,
Sergeant Fraser?

Hey, aye, er, well, my daughter,

she works here at the hotel
and Ellen's an old friend.

You know, you may be right,
from what I...

From what I can tell, er,

the heat fractures on the skull
aren't in a grid,

which means they occurred
before decomposition.

If I can confirm
that it's natural,

then we should be able to...

Whoa, whoa, whoa,
erm, up here, Doc,

when we're finished working
for the day, we're done.

Okay.

I'll start early tomorrow,
but I can make my own way up.

Yeah, knock yourself out.

- This is Duncan's.
- Oh, great, thanks, Ellen.

Making the lad cook in
the camper van's a bit harsh.

Even for me.

Hello.

How did it go?

Oh, sorry, you're not meant
to tell me what you've found.

It's early days.

Er, we don't run to a menu,
so I hope mutton stew's alright.

I've left yours at your table, Andrew.

Thanks, Ellen.

Would you care to join me?

It's comfier than eating
at the bar.

Sure.

Hi, lads.

- I'll get your.
- Aye, well, there you go.

We don't go up
by the cottage much.

Bess, she chooses her own routes
these days.

She must have caught a scent.

I'm sure she did.

Well, it's a beautiful place
to live.

Oh, these islands
are pretty enough indeed,

but don't be fooled.

We've had
a long-standing problem

of empty properties
being used as drug dens.

- Really?
- Hmm.

Come over from the mainland
on the ferry.

And as we've no police here,

we're as near as we get
to lawless.

Far from being
the hard and brittle forms

that museums might invoke,

skeletons are a living tissue,

malleable, responsive.

Forever shaping,
changing, remoulding,

according to the patterns
of or lives.

35.4.

Bone records all.

An archive of human history,
a map of the lived experience.

Ah, shit.

Tibia and fibula
charred as far as the shins.

Signs of decomposition
on remaining soft tissue.

Does that mean that you can tell
when she died?

Well, it's tricky with
very limited insect activity,

but given the conditions,
that's what I'd expect.

Surely you have some idea, gents?

Mr Brody.

You can't be in here.

The site is closed
to the public.

Oh.

I didn't realise it was
an official crime scene.

You are retired, remember.

Come on, Bess.

Is this far enough?

Well...

You know, I could always
stick my fingers in my ears.

Feel free to stick them
wherever you want.

Fireplace, one-three-two.

One-three-two.

- Let's do the stairs.
- Yep.

Er, 27.5.

So, we know it's a woman,

but do we have anything more
on her?

Like how long she's been dead?

Well, er...

Assuming she's been here
all this time,

and looking at the way
the stone's scorched underneath,

I would say we're looking
at around... four to five weeks.

Commitment's an issue with you,
isn't it?

She's 30.

Erm, a couple of years younger, perhaps.

How can you tell that?

The female pubic bone
flattens with age,

and this one's eroded,
but not badly damaged.

Wait a sec.

What is that?

Body fat.

- Sorry.
- That's it.

That's it.

There's two ways you can
reduce a human body to ash.

You incinerate it
at a very high temperature,

which we know didn't happen

because the cottage
didn't burn down.

Or you burn it
at a lower temperature,

but for much longer.

This was a low-intensity fire.
It's called the wick effect.

The what?

She didn't roll onto a candle.
She was the candle.

Body fat the wax,
clothing the wick.

Less fat towards the extremities
means the fire goes out.

How the fuck is she
on the ceiling?!

Fat liquifies.

Gets carried up in the smoke.

Like a chip pan fire
without the chips.

Sorry.

So, erm...

Are we any closer to figuring
out if this is a crime scene?

No.

So, we do this right
and there's more,

all proceeds to be split
between ourselves,

everything free and fair.

Anyone having a good enough year
to say no?

So, you inviting us in
to keep us quiet?

Is that it, Ian?

Aye, aye.

What time is it?

6.30.

You were already here when
I got up at 6.00 this morning.

Was I?

It looks like her head
just exploded.

I mean, was that the heat or...?

That's what they used to think.

Cranial blowout.

But it was nonsense.

Want to feel?

- Yeah.
- Careful.

Heat induces fractures.

Each has a different texture,
a different feel.

Give it here.

Shit.

I can feel a depression.

What is it?

Concentric circular fractures

caused by an impact
to the skull.

In this case consistent
with interpersonal violence.

So, unlawful killing?

Er, in all likelihood, yes.

Okay, yeah, I will call Wallace
and get the CSIs over here.

You can get the fuck
out of here.

Any idea who it is?

Are there any suspicious
circumstances?

- Leave.
- I'm just doing my job.

People have a right to know.

Look, no, you little shit!

Can't blame a girl for trying.

Lying, conniving bitch.

Oh.

See ya. Bye.

Heavy rains overnight

and winds in excess
of 80 miles per hour

are expected
across much of Scotland,

with the northwest
and coastal locations

experiencing the brunt
of the storm.

It's expected that there will
be serious consequences

for travel across the country,

with road, rail, air
and ferry services

all likely to be
severely affected.

Fuck.

Helen!

Alice.

Wait, Alice!

Alice.

Alice!

Stay, Alice!

Alice!

Ah!

Alice!