♪ ♪ (thunder rumbling) (whimpers) (splintering) (loud dance music plays, people chatter) (statue shattering) Who's there?

Who are you?

What the devil are you doing up there?

Police.

I'm talking to you.

I'd like to report a murder.

Will?

(cries) On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary I lost my way.

Look, for God's sake, Will, please... And now, we've reached the end of our journey, Reverend King.

No, Will, please, no... No!

(gunshot) (siren wails) Morning.

Where's your better half?

If by that you mean Sgt.

Hathaway...

I was going to say your Mini-Me, but I didn't think you'd get the pop culture reference.

Don't be daft, woman.

Even I've seen The Italian Job.

LEWIS: Dear God.

This was his 999 call.

WILL (on recorder): I'd like to report a murder.

OPERATOR (on recorder): Sir, can you tell me where you are?

Sir?

But this was definitely self-inflicted?

No doubt.

He shot himself.

When you push someone hard enough in the right direction, a suicide becomes a murder weapon.

He lined up the fatal shot to deliberately deface the altar.

Is that what this is about?

An extreme grudge against the church?

Also, this got the brunt.

LEWIS: "The Garden"?

HOBSON: "Christian answers to contemporary questions."

Hardly a suicide cult.

HATHAWAY: Cheery start to the day.

Do we have an ID?

HOBSON: Yes, his name's Will... HOBSON and HATHAWAY: McEwan.

Lewis?

Suicide note in his pocket.

Back of a photograph.

LEWIS: "On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary I lost my way."

Gethsemane is...

The Garden of Gethsemane, Christ's Last Supper.

I knew that.

And Calvary is the site of the crucifixion.

It had to be biblical, didn't it?

HOBSON: Hathaway all right?

I'm not sure.

Yes?

Inspector Lewis.

You're the vicar of St. Mark's?

Francis King, yes.

He just shot himself right in front of me.

Did you know this boy, Will McEwan?

Yes, many years ago, when he was a student.

I was, until recently, Dean of Mayfield College chapel.

Will was part of my wider flock, extremely devout and a pleasure to know.

Did you ever hear of a Christian group called The Garden?

I can't say it rings any bells.

Why?

Do you know who this is with Will?

Uh... Oh yes, yes, that's Feardorcha Phelan, also a Mayfield scholar.

I haven't seen him in years.

He's a troubled boy.

Would you say the name again, sir?

Yes, it's an odd spelling.

Here... Feardorcha Phelan.

It's all such a waste.

Do you know where we could contact this Feardorcha, sir?

No.

No one does.

About three years ago-- at least-- he just disappeared.

LEWIS: Were you, uh... HATHAWAY: Yeah.

We were close.

Best get off home, then.

There's a conflict of interest.

Were close, sir.

Went to the same school together, hung out a couple of times in Oxford when I was in the seminary, hadn't seen him in years.

Well, if you're sure.

Yeah, I'm fine.

Did you ever hear of this group, The Garden?

No, what is it?

Not sure yet.

Apparently Will was very devout.

I'm not surprised.

And he desecrates a church?

Well, you can believe in God and still be angry with him.

His friend's Feardorcha Phelan.

You know him?

Vaguely.

Met him a couple of times.

Suicide's not usually our business, but this...

I just know there's something else at the back of it.

Will was driven to what he did.

"On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary I lost my way."

The Garden of Gethsemane, that's where this group, The Garden, gets their name.

We need to know what they're all about.

"Christian answers to contemporary questions"-- that could mean anything.

What do you know about his family?

Only child.

Parents were local, divorced when we were kids.

Gethsemane... that sort of explains the garden bit, but what's Calvary all about?

I don't know, but I doubt it's got very much to do with his subsequent resurrection.

Thank you.

Carey?

I have nothing to say to you.

It's Will McEwan.

He killed himself last night.

God forgive me, I lied to the police.

I just didn't know what to say.

Carey?

Carey, please, I spoke to your doctor and he told me that you were aware how little time you had left.

I go to my God with a good conscience.

Please, if this is the last time we speak... Oh, you want me to forgive you?

Judas!

HATHAWAY: Henry McEwan is a big property developer.

He's a local entrepreneur.

So Will had a rich dad?

Yeah, they were very different people.

Will was very gentle and softly spoken.

Henry was a little bit more...

Listen, you dickless little inbred!

Can you hear that?

That's nothing!

That is the sound of nothing!

That is the sound your phone's gonna make the rest of your professional life unless you get this sorted now!

What?

Mr. McEwan... it's about Will.

It was his birthday last month.

I thought I should call him.

My last chance, I could have just said hello.

I could have just... Will rang 999 to tell us what he'd planned.

Can you think why he'd have done that?

I don't know him, not anymore.

You and your son weren't on speaking terms?

No, he made certain choices... life choices, and I wasn't... Where do I know you from?

I was a friend of Will's.

You came to stay with us.

Yeah.

Yeah, I remember, yeah.

He thought the world of you.

So why wasn't he happy?

What was wrong with him?

I don't know, I hadn't seen him in a while.

But you live in Oxford, huh?

Yeah.

And when I found out what he was doing...

I couldn't look him in the eye anymore.

You stayed with the family?

Yeah, in the summer when we were 14.

I should have told you, I'm sorry.

What did Henry mean, "What he was doing"?

I think Will was gay.

You think?

Well, he didn't wear a badge or anything but yeah, I think I could tell.

So is this Feardorcha his boyfriend, then?

Maybe.

Maybe that's what caused the rift between Henry and Will.

What a shame.

If my boy was... it just wouldn't matter.

(bells chiming) NOVA ROSE: This is blatant homophobia, Lady Hugh.

I am not homophobic; it is a question of health and safety.

Oh, don't give me that.

Please!

Just because you don't want to listen, young lady, doesn't make it any less the truth.

You couldn't wait... new chair of university grounds, get to ban everything that offends your Christian sensibilities.

My faith has nothing to do with anything.

It is health and safety.

Banning Gay Pride?

You are free to assemble anywhere you wish, but not on university land.

Health and safety.

I know what goes on behind closed doors.

Set thine own house in order.

And get out.

I am the best barrister in this city, and I will slaughter you in court.

Oh, and do have a leaflet.

(birds chirping) WILL (voicemail): Hey, it's Will... leave me a message.

(beep) JONJO (on phone): Will, you bastard, are you allergic to my calls or something?

Come on, you're my best friend, I miss you.

Give me a call, please.

You okay?

Yeah, it's just Will's mum was such a lovely lady.

Mrs. McEwan, Inspector Lewis.

Yes, come in.

Sorry about the mess, I'm usually very...

If I'd known I'd have company...

I'm very sorry about Will.

Yes...

I don't know whether you remember me.

I was a friend of Will's from school.

James?

James Hathaway?

So sorry, Mrs. McEwan.

Oh, Sadie, please-- you're old enough and big enough.

Look at the size of you!

I remember that summer when you came to stay.

I think you were the politest boy I've ever met.

Thank you.

Such a shame you and Will fell out.

It wasn't really a falling out.

Oh?

Mothers always get the wrong end of the stick.

You think you know what someone's doing... And it turns out that... And after he met that lovely girl... What girl was that?

Zoe Kenneth.

She was Will's girlfriend.

A girlfriend?

How does that fit in?

It doesn't.

Will was gay.

Yeah, or in denial, putting on a fake relationship just for show.

Why does Sadie think you two fell out?

We did different GCSEs, that's all.

Then I saw him again when I was going through my priestly phase in Oxford.

He was still such a sweet guy.

But you lost contact again?

I was training to be a priest-- kind of closes your life down a bit.

And then I was training to be a policeman.

Closes your life down even more.

Thank heavens we found each other, sir.

(cell phone rings) Lewis.

Yep.

Oh, yes, thank you.

No, I'll come over tomorrow.

Early, yeah.

Everything all right?

Got myself a new hobby.

What hobby's that, then?

Never you mind, Sergeant.

We all have to have our little secrets.

(doorbell rings) You'd better come in.

FEARDORCHA (voicemail): Hey there, you've reached Feardorcha Phelan's voicemail, so leave a message, cheers.

(beep) Hey, Feardorcha, it's James Hathaway.

I know it's been a while, but can you call me when you get this?

It's very important.

(whimpering) (screaming) (cell phone rings) Feardorcha, hello.

Hello?

Hello?

Say something.

Do you understand the responsibility of what you're taking on?

I do.

It's not one to be undertaken lightly.

I know.

I've been on the waiting list over a year.

Ah, competitive world, allotmenting.

Early retirement, is it?

Excuse me?

Your retirement, are you taking it... Oh, no, I'm not retired, I'm just...

I don't know, wanted something to do that wasn't work.

Well, here we are.

Do you know what you're going to grow yet?

Vegetables.

Peas, marrows, that sort of thing.

Drainage is wrong for peas.

Oh, right.

Marrows?

I wouldn't risk it.

Exposure's wrong for marrows.

Carrots?

Carrots.

Well, enjoy.

(cell phone rings) Lewis.

I'll be right there.

Morning.

Morning.

Coincidence?

The only vicar of St. Mark's church where your friend...

Killed himself?

Yeah.

The Reverend Francis King.

Do you know him?

Yeah, I did.

Not well.

He was very active in the local church community.

Did you like him?

Bit too hang 'em and flog 'em for me.

Shall we go in?

I'd gladly club you to death with a blunt instrument.

Or poison, maybe.

Or a knife through the heart.

But what I wouldn't do... is stick a red hot poker inside your brain via your eye socket.

Too gruesome?

For a start.

I meant more it isn't an efficient way to kill somebody.

This was the act of someone who enjoyed the process of killing.

It's pretty certain that King knew his killer.

A social drink together, before the killing started.

And there's enough saliva on the glass-- which is interesting-- should be able to get you a DNA sample.

Much too hot for a fire last night.

Must have started that specially.

HATHAWAY: "The Firebird Suite."

Stravinsky.

Firebird, fire, poker-- do you think there could be a connection?

Oh, yes.

As they say in pantomime... it's behind you.

"Life born of fire"?

What the hell does that mean?

I was just going to say that I don't envy the fella who's got to sort through all of this.

Then I remembered that it would be me.

That's almost volunteering.

Good man.

And keep an eye open for anything else that might link King to Will McEwan.

You think they're connected?

The phoenix...

The firebird; life born of fire.

PORTER: Good morning, Lady Hugh.

These are for you.

Thank you.

Apparently we're using too many paperclips.

I've been reprimanded by stores.

Well, I take that very seriously, sir.

From now on I'm a staples man.

I found this highlighted among King's stuff.

Last week's Herald, Ch arlie Newton, bit of a character assassination on King.

"Occasionally an angel can fall from grace.

"Take the Reverend Francis King, "once a devout darling of Mayfield College "and a mover and shaker in their outreach programs.

"Having fallen foul of the Oxford God set, King is now definitely out of fold and in the cold."

Journalist with a bee in his bonnet.

Outreach programs.

Could that mean The Garden?

Excuse me, Mr. Newton?

Has he offended you with his writing?

No.

In which case, then yes, I am.

Inspector Lewis, Oxford CID, this is Sergeant Hathaway.

Charmed.

Now, how can I help you and is there a story in it?

We're interested in the Reverend Francis King.

Ah, my favorite subject.

I read your article.

You sound a bit angry.

I'll lay my cards on the table-- I have no time for organized religion or the organizers of it.

King's a hateful little man.

The Good Samaritan wouldn't have crossed the road for him.

What do you know about The Garden?

Not much, though I'd like to.

The trouble is those involved are pretty tight-lipped and the whole thing folded about five years ago.

King was one of the main organizers.

He told us he'd never heard of it.

Well, then, if I was you, Inspector, I'd go and ask him why he's lying.

Oh, my God.

He's dead.

Wow.

I wonder which one of them did it.

Which one of what, sir?

The Oxford God set.

King fell foul of his clergy comrades in a big way.

I don't know what, but he did something heinous in their eyes.

So it stands to reason, doesn't it?

Some mad old crusader, playing the avenging angel, goes and bumps him off.

God, they're all so messed up.

Still, here's to the start of a good story.

LEWIS: The Reverend King runs a Christian youth group, which Will McEwan's a member of.

The boy commits suicide in King's church and 24 hours later King's dead.

Thoughts?

Fire is significant.

A red hot poker cauterizing the brain-- King was essentially burned to death.

It could be... about revenge.

Someone blames King for Will's state of mind.

Just for the record, Sergeant, is there anything I ought to know about you and Will McEwan?

Like what, sir?

Anything relevant to the case.

No.

Look at this.

Looks like he was filming something.

Himself, maybe?

Wonder what happened to the DVD.

What does this flat tell us about Will?

Well, the Will I used to know was fastidiously tidy.

This mess, this must be a sign of his distress.

The crucifixes and Bible in pride of place.

He still believed.

Bit of a Brazil thing going on.

Last holiday?

Nope, no visa.

Looks like the last time he left the EU was for Morocco, four years ago.

Same design of glass as the Reverend King's.

They're pretty generic-- Ikea.

I think I've got some.

"On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary I lost my way."

Will was comparing his journey with that of Christ to the cross.

Except Christ made it to Calvary.

Will lost his way.

Life born of fire.

I bet that means something in Latin.

What makes you say that?

This is Oxford.

Everything always means something in Latin.

(cell phone rings) Hello?

NEWTON: Hello, mate.

I'm so sorry about Will.

Yeah, but listen, I thought you should know... King's dead.

Good.

How you doing with King's paperwork?

Nothing yet.

He was a bit of a hoarder.

Haven't been able to find out anything about Zoe Kenneth, Will's alleged girlfriend.

Maybe she's new to Oxford.

Did a check on Feardorcha, Will's ex.

They split up three years ago.

Family filed a missing persons report at the time.

But the last they heard of him, he was off to Brazil.

Well, that Brazil tourist stuff at Will's flat could be from him.

Try the Brazilian police.

It could mean that he was or is back in Oxford.

His number wasn't on Will's phone.

I'll speak to a couple of Will's old friends, see if I can get hold of it.

Yeah, good.

If we can get a phone trace on him, it would save us a lot of leg work.

That church, St Mark's, has just re-opened.

I don't know if you wanted to pay your respects.

Hello.

Hi.

Are you a friend of Will's?

Well, you don't look like a churchman, so I'm guessing you're police.

Detective Sergeant Hathaway.

I hate churches.

Trust Will to finally get me back in one.

I didn't catch your name.

I didn't drop it.

But it's Zoe, Zoe Kenneth.

Will's girlfriend?

If only it were that simple.

How did you know?

Will's mum, Sadie.

God, I should go and see her, poor woman.

Will was the light of her life.

The light of all our lives.

Yeah, I knew him from school.

Hathaway?

James Hathaway.

I don't think he mentioned you.

Oh.

But I'm not very good with names.

Ironic, seeing as I'm a semiologist.

William, from Wilhelm, meaning desire and protection.

Protection...

So, you and Will?

I was in love with him.

Will tried to be in love with me, but of course he was gay, so you can imagine how well that worked out.

Have we met somewhere before?

Do you drink in The Malster's?

That's it.

Faces across a crowded room.

It's funny you never bumped into Will.

He was always out and about.

Well, here, if you need... Do you know Feardorcha Phelan?

Will's ex?

I knew of him.

I don't think he's around anymore.

Find the bastard who did this.

Will may have jumped, but someone drove him to the edge.

James?

Jonjo.

I thought you were in South America.

I came back.

So Will's dead, then.

I'm sorry.

Yeah, I'd imagine you must feel pretty guilty about that.

I had no idea Will was suicidal.

How could you possibly know, James?

You had to be around to see it.

We hadn't seen each other in a while.

I know, it's complicated.

I'm sorry-- really bad day.

Are you staying around?

(cell phone rings) Hello?

(ice cream truck music plays on phone) Hello?

(heavy breathing) (ice cream truck music plays) Hello?

Hot off the lab.

The full DNA profile on the saliva's going to take a while, but we can safely rule out 51% of the population from the enquiry.

The killer's a man?

Yeah, chromosomes-- one X, one Y. Oh, and the SOCOs found this hair stuck in the red paint at the Reverend King's house.

So, assuming that that and the saliva come from the same person, we're looking for a man with dark hair.

Not Will's dad, then.

Oh, I met Zoe Kenneth at the church today.

She was real upset.

Maybe I should interview her alone.

If you think that's best.

Enjoy your reading.

HATHAWAY: Sir!

Sir!

One group photo of The Garden.

Isn't she the Warden of Mayfield College?

Yeah, Lady Hugh, yes.

This is Dr. Carey Melville.

He was Dean of Mayfield before Reverend King.

The Garden is run through Mayfield.

Lady Hugh, Melville and King must be the organizers.

Look at this, written to King: "From the desk of Lady Hugh."

"In reference to your previous letter, "the decision to remove you from the college committees "on which you served was mine and mine alone.

"Your rights of attendance were entirely in my gift, a confidence which I now have no hesitation in withdrawing."

Charlie Newton was right-- King was losing friends.

Interesting header, the Mayfield College coat of arms.

LEWIS: A phoenix.

That's where The Garden got their logo.

Good work, Hathaway.

See what else you can find out.

I'm going to talk to Lady Hugh.

CROWD: S-O-S-S!

Save Our Screaming Spires!

S-O-S-S!

Save Our Screaming Spires!

Protect our right to march for Gay Pride!

Think Pink, sign the petition, have a lollipop!

S-O-S-S!

Ladies and gentlemen...

Here she comes in her air- conditioned chariot of power, a round of applause for the devil incarnate herself, Lady Hugh!

Marvel at her prejudice!

Gasp at her bigotry!

Swoon as she defecates on civil rights, Christian charity and loving thy neighbor with a single movement of the bowel!

Back away from the car, please!

LEWIS: Lady Hugh, come on, Madam.

Why won't you let us march?

Right, clear away!

Clear away, clear away.

When did your God make you judge and jury?

(clamoring) LEWIS: Get it shut!

My knight in shining armor.

Detective Inspector Lewis, Lady Hugh.

Inspector Lewis, I can't thank you enough.

The assembly of the wicked have enclosed me.

Please, what have I done to deserve police protection?

Oh, actually, I just happened to be passing, ma'am.

The merciful man doeth good to his own soul.

And that deserves a cup of tea, at least.

Oh, thank you, ma'am.

So, what brought you to Mayfield in the first place, Inspector?

Oh, Robbie, please.

Oh, Robbie.

Well, I was doing some background research into the Reverend Francis King.

Don't know if you knew him.

Yes, of course.

Such a terrible business, his murder.

Well, apparently he worked with a group called The Garden, which was run by Mayfield College.

Oh, The Garden, yes, well, that was one of our projects from, oh, many years ago now.

Can you tell me a bit about it?

Well, it acted as a sort of mutual support group, young people and their problems.

Christian answers to contemporary questions?

Quite, yes.

I didn't have a hands-on role, you understand.

That was the Reverend King's department.

And Dr. Carey Melville?

Well, The Garden was Carey's brainchild.

Perhaps you know all this already.

You had a falling out with the Reverend King, is that right, ma'am?

I wouldn't say that, no.

We found this.

It has no bearing on his death.

I'll be the judge of that, ma'am.

I didn't kill him and I wrote this letter; the two are not connected.

Lady Hugh, it wouldn't be difficult for us to find out what caused the rift between you and Francis King.

Whatsoever a man soweth, so shall he reap.

An eye for an eye?

Well, I wouldn't go that far.

I decided that King was not of good character.

I have no concrete evidence to support my suspicions, and therefore my personal opinions are of little use to the police.

Please feel free to contact me if you require anything else, but I would be very grateful if you did not, Inspector.

"On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary I lost my way."

Does that mean anything to you, ma'am?

Nothing at all.

What is it?

Will McEwan's suicide note.

Let me get this clear, Hathaway-- you knew Will McEwan and both his parents as well as Feardorcha and the Reverend King?

Yes, ma'am.

And you're okay with this, Lewis?

Yes, ma'am.

Should I not be?

Conflict of interest?

Sergeant Hathaway assures me not, ma'am.

Right.

What else?

Possibility that the murder is connected with Will McEwan's suicide.

HATHAWAY: I managed to find some financial documents among King's stuff.

A lot of money coming in recently-- a small fortune, in fact, transferred from an account at UBS in Switzerland.

Possibly he was blackmailing somebody, or being bribed.

I also looked into Will McEwan's finances.

He had large regular cash payments going out of his account in the last three years.

He could have been buying King off.

Feardorcha Phelan-- no one's had any contact with him?

No, ma'am.

But I was able to get his mobile number.

From who?

Zoe Kenneth, Will's friend.

It's a non-registered pay-as-you-go mobile, so there's no postal address, but the network were able to tell me that he was in the Oxford area in the last 24 hours.

Or at least his phone was.

The blackmail angle's a good one.

If King was being paid from an account at UBS, that's untraceable, but which of our suspects would have a Swiss bank account?

I bet you Will's dad does.

And there's this from the lab.

The dark hair at the Reverend King's house was dyed.

Difficult to say what the natural color was, 'cause the sample's too small, but it was a lot lighter-- blond, maybe red-headed or gray.

"On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary I lost my way."

Can that really be true?

God help us if it is.

The phoenix... Carey!

(bell tolling) CONAN: Hello, Mr. McEwan.

McEWAN (slurred): Give me one of those.

Look, get off me!

I don't need anybody's help.

MAN: What's wrong with him?

CONAN: He's been drinking.

If Will were here, he'd have died of embarrassment.

Zoe.

James.

It is James, isn't it?

I'm terrible with names... ...terrible with names.

You said.

ZOE: Seems wrong, doesn't it?

Laughing at a funeral?

I can't imagine how she feels.

Will was wonderful.

I know at least ten people who, if ever they were in trouble, would have called him first.

How'd you meet?

At a bus stop.

Number 96.

Started dating, which lasted all of six weeks.

So, Romeo and Juliet became Will and Grace.

He was my best friend.

(solemn organ music begins) Will McEwan.

Such a sweet boy.

Sweet and so tragic.

Tragic how, sir?

Caught between two stations: who he was and who he should be.

Could you be more specific, sir?

We taught them to be like the phoenix, burn away the old life, emerge reborn.

Life born of fire?

He was losing his faith, and his heart was empty.

Such a sweet boy.

What did the Reverend King do to upset you so much, sir?

30 pieces of silver!

The money lenders in the temple.

What temple, Dr. Melville?

Dr. Melville?

That's beautiful, Conan.

James.

Jonjo.

If you'll excuse me, I'm just going to say hi to Sadie.

That was a lovely reading, Jonjo.

Yeah.

Public school nonsense really, but Will seemed to like it.

JONJO: He pushed us all away in the end for her.

Have you had any contact with Feardorcha?

It's Will's funeral.

Let's leave the formal police interview for another day, shall we?

Yeah, I know, I'm sorry.

I'm upset, you know.

Why is that?

Tried to avoid me.

(quietly): Don't be stupid.

Come on, James, you know what you did, don't you?

I'm sorry.

HATHAWAY: Jonjo said that faith is a curse.

LEWIS: And is it?

No, but it can make things difficult sometimes.

Why did you...?

Ah, none of my business.

Leave the priesthood?

Yeah.

None of your business.

Zoe Kenneth and Feardorcha Phelan never met, did they?

No.

But she gave you his number.

Suppose he gave it to her?

Oh, he gave her his ex-boyfriend's number?

I don't know.

Why?

Well, if you say he got the number from Zoe and that you only knew Jonjo slightly, I'll believe you.

What is this?

Timing.

Will started to get depression, and you left the priesthood around the time the two of you met up again in Oxford.

Something happened between the two of you that I don't know about?

No.

LEWIS: Is, uh, Lady Hugh about?

I'm sorry, sir, she's not been in today.

Okay, thanks.

Excuse me.

Got a light?

Sorry, don't smoke.

No one does these days.

Now, you look like a policeman.

What gave me away?

Your shoes.

Plus I think I recognize you, from court?

Oh, I'm a barrister, Nova Rose.

Sorry, is that... My real name, yes.

Mother was a romantic, father was a Jew-- Rosenbaum; contracted to Rose.

Nova, meaning new; Mother's attempt at zeitgeist.

My mum only managed a "Robert" for me.

Not very edgy, I'm afraid.

Well, you can be a Rob or a Robbie, or a Bert or a Bertie.

It splits in so many interesting ways.

Now, Bertie, tell me you've come to Mayfield College to arrest that old bag Anna Hugh?

I couldn't possibly comment.

But no.

Well, you definitely should.

Homophobic old witch.

Can't stand her-- but then she can't stand me either, so we probably cancel each other out on some universal scale.

Don't you ever look at her and think, "That has to be a man in drag"?

(chuckles) I don't suppose you happen to know anything about Lady Hugh falling out with a Reverend King, do you?

Oh, I might, as it happens.

Do you know you're the second person to ask me that today?

Charlie Newton, from the Herald, he's been sniffing round the same story.

If I were you, I'd speak to the owner of Communion.

Communion?

The hot new ticket.

Oh, a nightclub?

The nightclub, Bertie.

And tell them I sent you.

They owe me a favor.

(cell phone beeping) Oh, that's me.

Yeah, gotta dash.

Bertie, it's been a slice.

(chamber music playing) ZOE (on phone): Hi, this is Zoe Kenneth.

Please leave a message.

(machine beeps) (phone beeps off) Mr. McEwan.

So you're the owner of this club?

Yeah.

Where else could I get this drunk for free?

I'm trying to establish a connection between Lady Hugh and the Reverend Francis King.

I'm told you might be the missing link.

Told by whom?

Nova Rose.

(chuckles) Ah, Nova Rose.

What a peach!

She said you owe her a favor?

You try and buy a church from an Oxford college.

There's a whole lot of problems.

All those saintly people in the way of the sale.

But Nova made them all disappear.

And at a discount, too.

Why would she do that, sir?

Old scores, old wounds.

Her and "Lady Hugh."

(scoffs) Lots of bad blood under that bridge.

Oh, shit, did I mix a metaphor?

Needs tequila.

Drink?

No, thank you.

I have nothing to say to the sober.

So this building used to belong to Mayfield College?

Yeah, and Her Ladyship was most displeased that I was turning a house of God into a den of sin.

Money lenders in the temple.

That's why the Reverend King fell foul of Lady Hugh, wasn't it, sir?

You bribed him to approve the sale of this building.

A finder's fee, perfectly standard in my line of work.

I did nothing wrong.

He, on the other hand, violated all he held sacred as he handed me this hallowed place for 30 pieces of silver.

And all it took was a little push.

There's nothing faster than a fall from grace.

Do you know why I love this place?

God killed my son, but in these four walls, I killed God.

(sighs) (voice quivering): He was my son.

My little boy, my little William.

Here's to my boy, my queer little boy... my beautiful gay son.

(playing softly) (phone rings) Hello?

I think you called and mysteriously forgot to leave a message.

How did you know it was me, Zoe?

I don't know anyone else who'd listen to chamber music.

Well, you should be a detective.

Let's go clubbing.

I can't.

I'm sorry.

I really can't.

(dance music blasting) Friends of Will's, they think I was trying to steal him away, which isn't true, but... Nova, Conan, hi, this is James Hathaway.

Nice to meet you.

Aren't you tall!

You were at the funeral, weren't you?

Yeah.

I'm sorry about Will.

It's that bloody God squad I blame, guilt-tripping him to the edge.

Oh, don't get me started, I'll ruin the night.

Drinks, anyone?

Come on, let's have some drinks.

Small, fabulous drinks with little umbrellas in them.

Oh, did I mention I was gay?

Does it show?

NOVA ROSE: You'd never believe he got a first in economics, would you?

It's true, alas.

My shallowness is only skin deep.

Conan organizes The Screaming Spires.

The Gay Pride march?

CONAN: The one and only.

Will we be seeing you there?

If it happens at all.

The Warden of Mayfield College is barring us from using university land for the assembly.

CONAN: Let her try!

One thing seven years at god-awful public school taught me, you don't let the bullies win.

(monitor beeping quickly) (Melville gasping) (grunting) I'm burning!

(screams) I'm burning!

(screaming) Good night?

Eyes hurt.

Skin hurts.

Tongue too big for mouth.

Yeah, that's a good night.

Same killer, do we think?

Life born of fire?

Definitely.

Death caused by magnesium sulphate.

Gets into the bloodstream, feels like you're burning up from the inside.

Death by fire again.

There's a puncture in the drip bag.

The magnesium was diluted, so it would have taken time to reach the lethal dose.

And...

There's a fingerprint, too.

Match that to the DNA on the wine glass at the Reverend King's, we've got our man.

Got it!

The ID on our killer.

Took a bit of chasing down, but he's on the Northern Ireland system.

It matches the DNA from the saliva on the wine glass at the Reverend King's to the fingerprints on the syringe at Dr. Melville's.

So who is it?

Feardorcha Phelan.

Our killer.

("Firebird" tune playing slowly) (screaming) (reporters clamoring) LEWIS: Nothing to say.

There'll be a press statement later.

Sometime this afternoon or later today.

No comment.

"Life Born of Fire."

He's carved it with his paper knife and cut himself.

Look, left a blood sample.

That's handy.

Several blows to the head.

First couple would have knocked her out.

Phoenix.

Mascot Mayfield College.

That's "The Firebird Suite," like at King's.

He's running out of ideas.

It wasn't death by fire this time.

No, he hit her with Vulcan, Roman god of fire and volcanoes.

The Phoenix Killer strikes again.

"Phoenix Killer"?

Do we have to start calling him that?

I bet you the fortune I'll never have that blood's Feardorcha's.

The messages, the fingerprints, the DNA evidence.

Why is he making it so obvious that it's him?

Well, Lady Hugh's secretary's adamant that no one matching his description has been anywhere near here.

Could someone have-- I don't know-- got a hold of some of Feardorcha's blood?

What about the saliva on the wine glass?

Oh, we don't know that the glasses belonged to King.

Someone could have brought them to King's house-- I mean, had a drink with Feardorcha first to get the saliva sample.

All brings us back to the same question: Where is Feardorcha?

Why does nobody ever see him?

Hello, Conan.

I'm afraid I'm dead.

But there's something I need you to do.

(siren wailing) OFFICER: Calm yourself down.

No, I will not.

Look, I'm a film maker.

That's what I do, I make films.

Where's your I.D.?

It's not a crime yet, is it?!

It's all right, Martin, I'll take it from here, yeah.

All right, Sarge.

Thank you.

Thanks, guys.

What are you doing?

Murdering bigots, according to your colleagues.

Before you ask, no, I didn't know it was going to happen.

If I had, I'd have brought a longer lens.

I need to show you something.

Came in the post this morning.

What I did to Feardorcha.

His sacrifice...

Please, make a film about why love is never wrong.

What was Feardorcha's sacrifice?

I don't know.

I haven't seen him in ages, but I'm pretty sure Will still did.

He talked like Feardorcha was still living round the corner.

I don't think he ever left Oxford.

Go on.

I wasn't really around that much.

Last few months, Will really kept us at arm's length.

I don't know why.

Maybe it was to spend more time with Zoe Kenneth.

Maybe he didn't want us to get to know her.

What did you make of all of that?

Weird.

Not to mention unhealthy.

How's your film going?

The ending breaks your heart.

I'm going to use that clip of Will-- "Make a film why love is never wrong."

Hey, why don't you talk to me, about love?

Love?

Me?

Oh, God.

Yes, James, even you, that little middle-aged heart of yours.

Now, don't patronize me, just because I don't go shagging every Friday night.

Um, I love... the bells of Oxford... on the hour, every hour, like a soundtrack.

Yeah, I love the bells of Oxford.

And that's not middle aged?

I'm happy with my life.

Yeah, right.

CONAN: Can I just confess and get it over with?

I killed them, I killed them all!

There you go!

I got a date waiting outside, d'you know that?

Six-foot four, Brazilian... oh!

This is police harassment, obstructing Rodrigo.

Would you just drop the act, sir, just for a moment?

Look, I didn't kill anyone.

I've got the absolute right to act however I choose.

That's freedom of speech.

A freedom which you were prepared to fight Lady Hugh for?

Oh, yes!

I led a legitimate protest against Lady Hugh.

Therefore, I must have murdered her.

No, we know who murdered her-- Feardorcha Phelan.

Feardorcha?

Is he back in Oxford?

Has he been in contact with you?

No, he's not made contact with me.

Because the funny thing is, you're not the only person not to have seen him.

In fact, no one has seen him, and yet we have fingerprint and DNA evidence linking him to the murder.

Ooh?

Maybe he's got an invisibility cloak.

Or a very good accomplice.

(sighs) How do you know Will?

Clumsy one-night stand at Fresher's Week, which turned into a lifelong friendship.

I wasn't madly, psychotically in love with him, if that's what you're asking.

The journalist Charlie Newton and you-- both ushers at Will's funeral.

He's my best friend.

We're the odd couple.

And he hates the Reverend King and the organizers of organized religion, as he put it.

Which includes Dr. Melville and Lady Hugh.

Okay, okay.

You want the truth?

I just don't have it in me.

Murder.

But when you've got God on your side, you can do anything.

But me?

I just don't have the faith.

You do have a cause, though, don't you?

I'd say that's pretty much the same thing.

Found out anything on Feardorcha Phelan?

Well, I finally heard back from the police in Brazil.

Bit of a problem with the translator, but basically the trail goes cold there.

He flies in three years ago and never leaves, or he leaves on a different passport.

How likely is that, an identity change?

Well, on the record, they're keen to flag up their progress in the fight against identity fraud.

Off the record, they accept that it's rife there.

He must be back in the country, but then he's living under an assumed name.

Why did you and Will McEwan fall out when you were kids?

It's not relevant to the case.

He came out to me that summer when we were 14.

I think he thought that we'd kiss and everything would be roses, but, you know, we were kids and kids are stupid.

I couldn't be anything other than a horrible teenager.

So what did you do?

I laughed at him.

Might as well have shot him in the face.

He hated me for that.

I don't blame him.

Are you...?

No.

No, go on, ask.

No, it's... it doesn't matter.

You've been dying to ask.

Well, it's none of my business.

Yeah, but you really want to know.

Well, okay.

What?

Are you?

What?

Are you gay?

What does that mean?

You know what that means.

What, that there's boys and girls and a nice neat straight line down the middle and gay's if you like shoes and musicals and straight's if you read Loaded and eat Yorkie bars?

No, no.

You got some finer definition, then, sir?

"Loaded and Yorkie bars"-- how stupid do you think I am, man?

I just... Nah, it's none of my business.

You're right.

What do I know?

(reporters clamoring) LEWIS: All three of the victims were well known in the Oxford area.

We're asking that anybody who may know the whereabouts of Feardorcha Phelan should contact us immediately.

(reporters shouting) Hang on, one at a time, please.

Charlie Newton, Oxford Herald.

How much do you think these killings have been motivated by the suicide of Will McEwan?

LEWIS: Mr. Newton.

Oh, hang on, I'll call you back.

What do you know that you're not telling us?

I got sent this today.

It's from Will.

He wants me to expose The Garden, blow the lid off their lies, and this is supposed to help me.

The trouble is that it's the ramblings of a deranged soul and I'm still not actually sure what they did.

I did make sense of this bit, though.

The Garden based their method on the stations of the cross, a bit like the 12-step program.

And the final stage is resurrection-- your problems solved-- but in order to get there... You have to go through Calvary.

Yes.

The crucifixion-- the hardest part.

Will lost his way before then.

So why did Will go to them?

I think he and Feardorcha were having problems, and they were using it as some sort of relationship counseling.

I know he left the group, but then changed his mind and went back.

I don't know why.

But it wasn't suicide.

I'm sure of that.

They killed him, Inspector.

Sir, Zoe Kenneth wants to meet us.

ZOE: I didn't realize you were linking those murders to Will's death.

LEWIS: It's one avenue we're exploring.

Um, I know you were very close to Will-- I mean, more than just friends.

Very private.

Yeah, I understand that.

But if you could... Sir, maybe it's not relevant.

No... no, it's fine.

This Feardorcha Phelan could be a suspect.

I mean, if he thinks The Garden was responsible for Will's death.

Will said Feardorcha killed himself.

He couldn't cope with being gay, the shame on his family.

That's why Will wanted the suicide kept secret.

And that's why Will was so depressed.

It had nothing to do with The Garden.

And you think Feardorcha's dead?

He sent Will a letter, a suicide note.

I don't know if he really went through with it.

There was no body found.

But Will believed it.

Feardorcha's sacrifice, he called it.

(boisterous chatter, laughter and music) HATHAWAY: Do you believe Feardorcha's dead?

LEWIS: Maybe.

But if you wanted to disappear, fake suicide's the perfect way.

So keep your eyes peeled.

(dance music with heavy bass beat) NOVA ROSE: Bertie!

You look like a fish out of water.

Oh, I feel like one.

Don't you just love it, though?

I was supposed to be in court, but my partner insisted, on pain of death.

Is she here?

"She"?

Inspector, Sergeant, hello!

Mr. Newton.

So am I right in thinking that if Lady Hugh hadn't been killed, you'd have had to cancel the Gay Pride march?

NOVA ROSE: Yep.

Ding dong, the witch is dead.

ZOE: Hey... Look at you two, all casual.

This is us dressing down.

We're not very good at it.

What do you make of our Screaming Spires?

Interesting.

CONAN: Can I have everyone's attention?

Is there any point in hanging around, sir?

Yeah, just wait.

I want to hear what this bloke's got to say.

Well, it nearly didn't happen.

(applause and cheering) I'd like to dedicate this year's Screaming Spires to my good friend Will McEwan.

Will couldn't be here today.

Here's why.

I'm going to tell you a story.

Once upon a time there were two men, in love.

They were nice men, never hurt anybody.

But they rowed sometimes, as lovers do, so they joined a group.

Bit of couples' counseling.

The group was called The Garden, and it lived for one reason-- to cure gays.

Like we're some disease.

And they got inside the head of this man and they made him hate himself and his one true love.

I reached out, I did.

I asked a good friend.

I said, "Is this really what God wants for me?"

and he said, "Yes," so I went back.

And they ripped me apart.

But I'm telling you now, because I can see it so clearly-- love is never wrong.

The friend Will went to.

Was that you?

You knew what The Garden did.

You knew why Will killed himself all the time!

Feardorcha!

Hathaway!

Life Born of Fire.

LEWIS: All along you knew!

HATHAWAY: It wasn't like that.

What do you mean it wasn't... What was it if it wasn't like that?!

It wasn't planned, I didn't... You lied to me!

I didn't... How old are you, you lied!

Sir...

I trusted you.

I always trust you.

You said to me, to my face, "I don't know what The Garden is."

Didn't you?!

Sir...

Didn't you!

Yeah.

The times I gave you the chance, I asked you the question, you could have said!

You have no idea what this has been like for me.

You don't understand.

Oh, why's that, then, do you think, with your lies and your cover-ups?

You're not listening to me!

I never meant to hurt Will.

Hurt him?

How?

We were kids, you know; kids are stupid.

You can forgive kids, but adults... Have you ever been so sure that you were right, and then you look back and you can't believe what you thought?

Go on, tell me.

I was training to be a priest!

It was so exciting.

I was surrounded by people that thought just like me and I thought just like them.

But then these things that they say, it's so easy, like breathing, you just believe it.

And I believed that being gay was wrong!

Will came to you for advice?

I didn't understand what he was asking.

I was too bloody sure I was right!

He said to me, "Can God love me without change?"

And I said, "Men who commit indecent acts with other men will receive due punishment for their perversion."

So Will went back to The Garden?

And they ate him up.

And I could see that it was my blind faith that had destroyed any chance of him ever allowing himself to love.

And that's why you gave up the priesthood?

You always understood his suicide note!

Yeah, but I had to see the case through.

The Garden would have denied it.

You could have told me.

I wanted to, but... "Life born of fire"-- what does it mean?

I don't know.

I promise.

Well, I'm sorry, Sergeant, it's not that easy to believe you anymore.

Sir... You lied to me.

Forget Will, forget the case.

You lied to me.

To me!

Please... No!

Just... no.

Go away!

I don't want to see you.

Hey!

Bad day?

Like you wouldn't believe.

You know the problem with living on your own?

What's that?

You're on your own.

Come back to mine?

I don't want to be on my own.

Not tonight.

Come on.

(siren wailing in distance) Knock, knock.

Ma'am, come in.

Just checking on your progress today.

Well, no sightings on Feardorcha Phelan, but some activity.

He seems to have set his sights on Sergeant Hathaway.

Good God, why?

Because of his friendship with Will.

Anyway, I've got a protection team keeping tabs on Hathaway, so if Feardorcha makes a move... Well, maybe he'll show his face tonight.

Lewis, you and Hathaway, have you... fallen out?

It's fine, but thanks, ma'am.

So what's your lead now?

Well, Feardorcha's prints are on this, too.

So either he's the killer, or he's been set up.

If it's the latter, it has to be somebody we've already met.

How can you be certain?

Well, only a handful of people know enough about Hathaway and Will to have reason to do this.

(sighing): But...

But what?

I've drawn a blank.

I don't know.

I haven't told you this, but you remind me of my inspector when I was a sergeant.

Felt like half the time I was just there for him to bounce ideas off.

And mostly, that was enough.

Well, if you're sure you've got the time?

Well, my busy, exciting social life...

Drink?

Yeah, why not?

I don't think I've ever drunk so much in my life.

Trying to make myself cry.

(laughs) So what's wrong with me?

There's nothing wrong with you.

There is.

There's nothing wrong with you.

There's nothing wrong with you.

There's nothing wrong with you.

So there are three options.

One, Feardorcha's the killer.

Two, he's being set up and he's alive.

Three, he's being set up and he's dead.

That's it, ma'am.

Of course, there is the chance of a fourth option, which is that he's alive and working in cahoots with somebody else.

What does this mean, the "significance of names"?

LEWIS: Well, this killer's obsessed with symbolism.

I just wondered if there might be a double meaning in a name or something-- Feardorcha using an alias or working with somebody else who is.

I know this great site.

My sister's having a baby.

Lucky her.

Now, if we put in, let's say, "Robert"... it means... "Bright fame."

I know.

Try the names of some of the other suspects.

(cell phone rings) If that's all right with you, ma'am.

Yeah, Lewis.

What?

When?

Uniform have lost Hathaway, somewhere in Jericho.

I really like you, James.

You're trembling.

It's been a while.

It doesn't matter.

If you're not ready, then that's fine.

Hold on.

Music, specially for you.

I need to get the iPod.

Don't go anywhere.

(keys clacking) INNOCENT: "Charlie"... "Charles," meaning "man," "army" or "warrior."

Any use?

No.

Try "Henry"?

(typing) From "Heimric," meaning "home ruler."

How about "Conan"?

"Little wolf or hound."

Is there any way of doing it the other way round, putting in the meaning first?

Yeah, hang on.

Okay, go on.

Put in "Life born of fire."

(typing) I'm going to have to break it up.

Let me put "life" in separately.

(computer beeping) LEWIS: Hold on.

"Zoe" means "life."

Try "Kenneth."

From the Gaelic "Cináed," and "Cináed" means... "Born of Fire."

Zoe Kenneth... "Life born of fire."

I think I'm a bit drunk.

It's just a sedative, don't worry.

I didn't want the flames to hurt you.

(chamber music playing) Despite it all, I like you.

In fact, I always did.

Zoe?

Not my real name.

I'm afraid you don't know me at all.

I killed them all.

Every twisted founder of that hateful Garden.

Why?

Because I loved Will and they destroyed him.

Will wouldn't have wanted you to...

I didn't do it for him, I did it for me.

Because he couldn't love me.

Because of them.

Every time I tried to touch him and he'd pull away and that... look in his eyes, that guilt, that disgust, and what I did to make him happy you can't imagine!

You can't imagine.

(cell phone ringing) It all began with you, James.

Twice Will reached out to you.

Twice you turned away.

One word from you and none of this would have happened.

No Garden.

No suicide.

No life born of fire.

Feardorcha DNA-- how?

Feardorcha was here all the time.

He's in this room now, standing right next to you.

He went to Brazil, but he didn't come back.

My sacrifice, James.

I'm Feardorcha.

LEWIS: She'll be in here somewhere.

When?

Wait.

Yeah, I knew it.

Zoe Kenneth, 31 Staunton Street, Jericho.

31 Staunton Street, Jericho, now!

Brazil.

The sex change capital of the world.

Imagine that, because I loved him so much.

And he...

He could finally be with a woman.

Your face.

Will almost bankrupted himself paying for it.

New chin, new cheeks, new nose, dye the hair, lose the accent.

I am the phoenix, James.

Rising from the ashes.

(new music begins) That's better.

"The Firebird Suite."

I lost the man I love, and I killed the people I hated, and now there's only you and me and the cleansing fire.

Number 31!

Break it down!

Life born of fire, James.

You and me, the firebirds.

No!

Get off him!

Get off!

No!

No!

Hathaway!

No!

James!

No!!

No...!

James!

(yelling hysterically) ("Firebird" music reaching dramatic climax) (explosion) (yelling) Get her in the car!

You're gonna need an ambulance for this one.

(Zoe whimpering) Come on!

(explosion) (explosions continue) Zoe!

Zoe, no!

Come back!

(grunting) Zoe!

No!

Get off me!

(explosion) (sirens wailing) Sir?

Hello, Sergeant.

How long have I been here?

Quite a while.

You were drugged.

Zoe?

She didn't...

I'm sorry.

You saved me.

Don't be so melodramatic.

So how are you feeling?

Hung over.

Well, I just wanted to make sure you... You know.

Thank you, sir.

Here.

I'm giving up the allotment.

Why is that, then?

Too relaxing.

I'll save all that for my retirement.

That going to happen anytime soon?

Not for a little while.

Mr. Lewis.

Mr. Cooper.

Your work problem-- that all sorted out?

It is, yeah.

Why do you ask?

Folks have lots of reasons for giving up allotments.

Some can't hack it, some get bored, some don't like being outside in our glorious British weather.

And others, they just remember they're needed somewhere else.

Good-bye, Mr. Lewis.

(bells chiming) Shh... 6:00.

(bells chiming the hour) Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH ac cess.wgbh.org