Dirk Gently (2010–2012): Season 1, Episode 1 - Episode #1.1 - full transcript

Dirk's client David Edwards is found dead after claiming that the Pentagon are out to kill him. His widow hires Dirk to catch the murderer, telling him that her husband was working on top ...

Why do you think it's a bomb?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hello?

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

Tell Mr Edwards we'll
be with him shortly.



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

Tell him this time I mean it.

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

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

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

What is it?

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

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

and what are the series of
interconnected events that have led

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

Let's go.

Hello?

Mr Edwards?

Mr Edwards!



What if someone really
was trying to kill him?

Mr Edwards!

He seemed pretty convinced.

Impossible.

How can you be so sure?

The circumstances of
my first meeting him

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

Are you following me? Yes.

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

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

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

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

Wow, that's bollocks.

It clearly works, MacDuff.

The perilous state of our
company's finances suggested that

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

Why would they have him
under surveillance?

They are the default setting
of all conspiracy theorists.

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

It seems his paranoia has now
escalated into the deluded belief

that somebody is trying to kill him,

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

Oh, Jesus.

Oh, I feel sick.

Something's wrong.

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

Someone really was
trying to kill him.

What if he really was
under surveillance?

What if the Pentagon murdered him?

Tortured him and then murdered him?

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

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

He really was a conspiracy theorist.

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

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

If the police find my business card
in his wallet,

they will no doubt hold
me for questioning.

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

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

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

our investigation into the
interconnected web of events

surrounding Mr Edwards' murder
can begin in earnest.

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

Wait!

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

MacDuff!

MACDUFF!

After three days, it seems
the police are finally finished

with their fingerprint powder,
forensics and general bungling.

We are back on the case.

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

the agency is broke.

We are trying to run a business.

At least I am.

Who's paying us to
investigate this case?

The substantial reward offered
for the apprehension of the killer

will offer more than adequate
compensation for our time.

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

You can't bear to be wrong.

Princess is feeling a little
delicate this morning.

We must coax her back into life.

Hello.

Mrs Edwards, I presume.

My name is Dirk Gently.

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

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

Why did he throw a flowerpot
through my door?

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

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

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

I'm very sorry about your husband.

I can't actually believe he's dead.

I keep expecting him
to walk through the door.

Thank you.

The police seem to have
moved everything around.

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

Did you know that your husband
believed that the Pentagon

had him under surveillance?

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

By his work,
you mean specifically...?

The computer software
he was developing.

I am almost certain
that you are absolutely right.

Tea. Excellent. Thank you.

The police seem to be getting
nowhere. Unfortunately,
that is to be expected.

Did my husband trust you, Mr Gently?

With his life.

Would you be prepared to
continue your investigation?

What was my husband paying you?

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

Rest assured, Mrs Edwards,
the web of interconnected events

will undoubtedly lead us
to your husband's killer.

David was a very paranoid man.

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

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

We are of the same mind. Me too.
I think it's... Thank you, MacDuff.

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

Can you be discreet, Mr Gently?

I stake my reputation on it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wherever the dart
lands in this wall,

will form the starting point
of our investigation.

It sometimes takes several attempts
to achieve total randomness.

The accounts are a mess.

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

Why would anyone want
to invade Switzerland?

You'd need a pretty good reason.

This isn't the work of a mad
conspiracy theorist. Isn't it?

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

It's genius.

Is it? Most computer programs help
you arrive at decisions by ordering

and analysing all the relevant facts

so that they then point naturally
towards the right decision.

But what if the decision which all
the relevant properly organised

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

Then the one you want's
probably wrong.

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

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

to specify in advance
the decision you wish to reach

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

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

It justifies the unjustifiable.

Don't you see, MacDuff?

If this software were to
fall into the wrong hands,

then no people or nation
would be safe from tyranny.

Not even the Swiss!

The very existence
of the free world is at stake.

From a computer program?

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

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

That was a computer program?

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

A different one to you, obviously.

The Pentagon are clearly looking
to upgrade their software.

Renew subscription to Playboy,
send software prototype,

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

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

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

is this notepad.

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

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

Isn't that dangerous?

Whether we like it or not,

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

We must provoke a reaction
from the other elements.

The bait has been set, MacDuff.

I think we're being followed.

Really?

Don't look. I'm not looking.

They're still there.

Do you think it's the Pentagon?

I think... it might be.

They're still there, Dirk.

Just relax.

I am relaxed. Relax more.

We're nearly there. Just act calm.

Just see if they stop when we stop.

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

It is imperative that
they don't know that we

know that they're following us.

We must maintain
the element of surprise.

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

Go, go, go, go.

What about Janice?
She'll be all right.

I'm looking for Dirk Gently.

There's a woman here to see you.

Then show her in.

What are you doing?
You show her in!

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

Perhaps it would be best
if I showed myself in?

Were you following us?

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

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

Emma Reynolds.

Richard MacDuff, partner. Assistant.

You must tell us
what brought you here.

The very existence
of the free world is at stake.

I think my husband's
having an affair.

Oh, boring...

Please.

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

Well, he's been
behaving so strangely.

He's irrational and impulsive.

He stays away for hours and then

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

or he says he doesn't remember.

I just want to be sure. Yeah.

I need proof. Yeah.

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

wouldn't we, Dirk?

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

a murder. It could have
international implications.

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

Er, oh.

OK.

Oh...

We used to be so happy.

He's changed.

There must be some reason.

I'll take the case.

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

I believe that Mr Reynolds'
extramarital activities are part of

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

if we are to identify
Mr Edwards' killer.

Thank you.

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

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

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

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

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

We should be investigating
his murder. We ARE investigating
Mr Edwards' murder,

but we are doing so tangentially.

Ooh! Our pizza.

Excellent.

What's the time?

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

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

It's a different address.
Look, it says here...

Can you read that?

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

Their promotional material
clearly states that if the pizza

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

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

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

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

you take the attractive woman
of Mediterranean origin.

She's on a bike.
Then you will need to run.

Do you need a lift? Huh?

Where are you going?
Um, where are you going?

Islington.

What an amazing coincidence!

I can smell pizza. Oh, that's me.
You have a keen sense of smell.

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

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

and, well, here we are.

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

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

He's amazing.
His horoscopes are so accurate.

It's coming true every day.

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

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

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

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

I didn't believe it
either to start with.

But, er, it's really happening.

I was a happily married man.

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

possibility would present itself.

That's when I met, um...

Maria. She was struggling
with her shopping.

She'd hurt her ankle
while performing a routine.

She's a pole dancer. Pole dancer.

Why are you making notes?

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

You're a private detective? Mm.

Perhaps I can be
of some service to you?

Mr Reynolds hired you?

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

That has to go against
our code of conduct.

Do we have a code of conduct?

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

They're clearly not the same case.

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

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

The two cases are
undoubtedly connected,

but they are not the same case,

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

and they are both inextricably
linked to Mr Edwards,

as clearly demonstrated
by the fact they

reside in the same filing cabinet

So what's the connection?

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

What does Mr Reynolds
do for a living? I don't know.

If the connections were that simple,

any idiot could set themselves up as
a holistic detective. Oh, really?

Conspiracy theories and horoscopes
are all a product

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

What their proponents fail to
understand is that we must

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

in all its complexity.

There's some men here!

That'll be for me.

Hi, guys, come on in.

Will that be all right?

Thanks, guys. Cheers, mate.

What the hell is that?

I'm your partner. Assistant.

I need somewhere to work.

Well, now that you're comfortable,
MacDuff,

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

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

I can't see anyone.

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

It is dark.

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

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

Observe the wild loops and
the extravagant down strokes.

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

You may well be right.

Where are you going?
I'm going to get us a pizza.

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

You're perfectly safe, MacDuff.
No, I'm not.

The bait has been set.

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

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

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

We're more in danger
of starving to death.

Dirk?

Dirk?

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

Someone attacked me.
That was me you idiot!

No, before that.
Someone else attacked me.

Then whoever it is has fallen
straight into the middle

of my carefully prepared trap.

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

Anticipating that the murderer
would wish to ransack our office

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

Dim the lights, MacDuff.

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

Where are you going?
I'm going to get us a pizza.

We're expecting a
murderer any second.

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

"My assistant will make you tea."

I was just killing some time.

Dirk?

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

that would never have happened.

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

Are you happy now, MacDuff?
Are you?

You stabbed my chair.

You stabbed my...

What is it? Shh!

What is that?

It appears your chair
was bugged, MacDuff.

Oh, Jesus.

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

They attacked me.

Dirk...

what if they know where I live?

I'll call Susan.

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

No, just go to a friend's house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, then who attacked me?
Someone attacked me.

Right before you did, I mean.

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

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

Ms Reynolds.
Sorry. I've been calling all day,

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

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

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

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

What do you mean?
Your husband believes his
horoscope is coming true.

As this is impossible,
something else is afoot,

and by following the web
of interconnected events,

I feel confident that we
will discover what it is.

But is he having an affair?

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

She has lovely skin.

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

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

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

Now, I think that my wife knows...

Emma, why are you here?

I hired Mr Gently.

Why are you here? I hired Mr Gently.

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

Separate files.

You're having an affair.

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

It's Jupiter rising. Why?

Emma, it's not me!

It's what my horoscope predicted.
What does it say?

"Life will deliver a slap in the
face." Now do you believe me?

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

and after I have evaded
the Pentagon surveillance,

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

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

What have you done to your leg?
There is nothing wrong
with my leg, MacDuff.

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

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

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

Why are we here?

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

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

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

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

Please take a seat.

I prefer to stand. Right.

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

I'm led to believe that you
specialise in providing

personalised horoscopes.

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

Our client has come to believe
that the predictions

made in his horoscope
are coming true.

You sound surprised.

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

the movements of planets
billions of light years away

are in any way responsible
for determining our behaviour.

I'm not sure what it is you're
telling me. Don't look at me.

I presume these horoscopes
are generated by some kind of

computer program stored on a server.

Correct. Mm.

Well, then it would appear
that this software

is responsible
for my client's distress.

You think our computer software
is somehow victimising your client?

It would appear so, yes.

I believe that's your phone ringing.

Hello. What?

Jesus, how bad is it?

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

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

I'm sorry, I really have to go.

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

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

Yeah, he gets that a lot.

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

No problem.
A burst pipe waits for no man.

We'll show ourselves out.

Oh, God.

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

Don't be ridiculous, MacDuff.
Oh, silly me, you've simply got
a sledgehammer down your pants.

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

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

Hello.

I'm from the water company.

That should do it. Do what exactly?

Dirk, you're going to
get us arrested.

We're conducting a scientific
experiment to categorically prove

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

I think we're being followed.

Right, are we really
being followed,

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

I think we're really being followed.
How can you tell? They're flashing
their lights at us.

Well, what do they want? I have no
intention of stopping to find out.

Come on, you beautiful bitch!

Jesus!

They're coming for us! Get down!
Back up! Put it in reverse!

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

What do you mean it's disappeared?
It was here earlier.

Well, where is it now? I don't know.
Just let me do it. No!

Find it! I'm trying!

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

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

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

In relation to the murder
of a one Mr Edwards.

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

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

"Pick up dry cleaning,
renew subscription to Playboy,

"send software prototype
to Dirk Gently".

Now, how is that for erroneous?

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

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

Who are you working for, Gently?
I'm not at liberty to divulge
that information.

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

Arrest him.
I'm working for Mrs Edwards.

Ow! Really?

Mrs Edwards,
as in the wife of Mr Edwards?

Yeah, the very same.

That really is remarkable...

Thank you.

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

Mrs Edwards, as in
the wife of Mr Edwards?

The very same.
Well, that is remarkable.

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

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

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

Very wise. Your incompetent
meddling is more than likely
to get you killed,

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

You are my tethered goat, Gently.

Why did we assume
she was Mrs Edwards?

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

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

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

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

and was looking for
the software prototype.

There is only one way to be sure.

Mrs Edwards? Dirk Gently.

There's been a significant
breakthrough in the investigation.

Perhaps we could meet.

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

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

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

Mrs Edwards, I must say
you look remarkably well,

for a dead woman.

She must have thought I was
being incredibly sarcastic.

Where's the front door? What?

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

I thought we were looking for the
killer. No, we're running away
from the killer.

Are we chasing the killer,
or is the killer chasing us?
Why would we chase the killer?

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

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

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

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

and we're about
to spring into action.

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

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

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

No, we're following that white car.

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

Why are we following a white car?

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

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

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

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

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

Then I imagine he's rather paranoid.

Who are you calling?

Our astrology experiment
should have worked by now.

Ah, Mr Reynolds. Dirk Gently.

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

What exactly is this horoscope
experiment going to prove anyway?

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

wearing some extravagant head gear

and talking of an encounter
with a rhinoceros,

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

and, more often than not,
accidental,

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

Mr Reynolds, how good
of you to join us,

and I see you've
brought a friend.

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

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

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

Read it. It says it right here.

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

on account of the computer server
that sends out the horoscopes

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

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

purporting to be your horoscope.

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

you'd now be carrying that around
with you. There was a cast-iron
bath in the skip.

There always is.

Your horoscope was
never coming true.

When you started to believe it was,

it became a self-fulfilling
prophecy.

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

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

What's happening to me?

Emma! My marriage is over.

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

Oh, Jesus.

That's my invoice.

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

There's been an interesting
development, MacDuff.

Someone has sent me another
Valentine's Day card.

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

The Valentine's Day card
was delivered by hand.

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

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

You've sawn off the back my chair?

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

Why are you obsessing over
Valentine's Day cards

and stuffed fluffy pigs, Dirk?

Our lives are in danger.

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

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

MacDuff? What?

It's a memory stick.

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

How can you be so sure?

It says so on the label.

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

our lives really are in danger?
Absolutely.

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

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

or her dog, or her husband...

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

I have to see Mr Gently!

That crazy horoscope guy
is here to see you!

Then show him in!

You show him in!

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

Could we please just pay her wages?

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

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

Do I have to think of everything?

I'm going to die!

That makes three of us. Cup of tea?

"You are nearing
the end of an era,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you still have the rhinoceros?

What are you talking about?
What rhinoceros?

Are you saying you have no
memory of the rhinoceros,

or of our meeting in the pub
yesterday? What meeting?

Interesting.

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

What is this obsession with order?

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

Open your mind! Embrace the chaos!

Embrace it!

I don't want to die!

Neither did Mr Edwards.

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

Mr Edwards believed the Pentagon
were trying to kill him.

Yes! Don't you see?

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

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

Yes, the Pentagon didn't
murder Mr Edwards.

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

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

and spread tyranny
across the free world.

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

There must be something else,
something else.

These accounts are a mess.

His cheque bounced.
Mr Edwards was broke.

I thought he was rich.

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

Someone was stealing from him.

What about me?

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

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

So who or what is
going to kill me?

I believe the answer is to be found

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

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

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

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

I can smell Brie. It makes
a handy, portable snack.

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

You could smell my Brie?

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

That's a bit of a coincidence
There's no such thing as
coincidences, MacDuff!

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

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

What the hell are you doing!?

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

Oh, Jesus! It's happening!

I can't escape it!

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

We're on the verge
of a breakthrough!

Nobody move. He's come for me!

He's come for us!

Hand it over. I'm sorry
to interrupt. Who are you?

He's Mr Edwards' accountant.
Is he? Are you? How did you...

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

only his accountant could
keep that from him.

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

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

You killed him?

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

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

Oh, well, there's no pleasing you,
is there, MacDuff? Well, I think
it's a bit rich...

Shut up!

You were investigating me.

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

She was working for you, wasn't she?

We believe she was
working for the Pentagon.

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

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

We ended up exactly
where we needed to be.

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

Will you shut up!

Do you think I'm stupid?

You're lying.

Hand it over!

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

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

I will shoot you.

He's going to kill us.

He's not interested in you.
I'll kill all of you.

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

Has someone been eating cinnamon?

I had a cinnamon whirl
at the coffee shop.

You were following me.

How long have you had this
acute sense of smell?

I don't know. I can't remember.
You've got three seconds.

One,

two...

All right, you're absolutely right.

It's all on here, every
incriminating detail.

Mr Reynolds! Mr Reynolds!

Oliver?

Don't do it, Oliver.

Listen.

Listen, we can help you, OK.

Just think of your wife.
She loves you.

I can't escape it.

I want to end my life on my terms.

Oliver, you're not going to die.

You couldn't be more wrong, MacDuff.

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

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

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

So my horoscope was right.

I am going to die.

Yeah, probably, but not
because of your horoscope.

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

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

Where's Oliver? What happened?

Your husband is fine, Ms Reynolds.

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

Brain tumour?

I believe the tumour is responsible
for his recent behaviour.

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

The extramarital affair with
the attractive woman of
Mediterranean origin

is just a symptom of his condition.

Is he going to be all right?

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

his doctor has assured
me he will be just fine.

Thank God.

Which just leaves the very
small matter of my invoice.

Does this invoice cover
charging myself and my husband

for investigating the same case?

To the untrained eye,

my methods may sometimes
appear somewhat tangential...

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

collecting the reward for
apprehending Mr Edwards' killer.

Sorry.

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

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

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

Mr Reynolds' brain tumour may
never have been diagnosed,

resulting in his untimely demise.

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

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

You are forgetting we are still
in possession of an extremely

valuable software prototype.

We're going to be rich, MacDuff!

The memory stick.

It was in my pocket.

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

We will be requiring tea.

I'm going on an excessively
long lunch break.

Very good.

I forgot my bag.

I was just looking for
a pair of scissors.

MacDuff? MacDuff?

'At 0700 hours local time,

'American tanks rolled across
the border into Mexico.'

There's been an
interesting development.

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

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

That is very fast,
even for the Pentagon.

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

'surprisingly little protest
from the United Nations.

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

'and reasoning behind
the invasion appear irrefutable.'

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

Someone is selling our work.

I will not fail you again.

It's a totally new approach
to artificial intelligence,

modelled on the brain's
synaptic patterns.

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

It's a disaster.

I find you odd,
but strangely alluring.

Are you in love? Is she mentally
incapacitated in some way?

Where were you Dirk?
Where were you?

Professor Jericho is
depending on us!

Your beloved professor
is not who you think he was.

This whole place
gives me the creeps.

Argh!

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

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