The Oxford Murders Page #9

Sir, one of the professors|insists on speaking to you.

He's completely|lost control of himself.

Oh what the hell?

You.|Did you know about this?

Did you f***ing know about this?

You and your f***ing equations!

I don't know anything.

Nothing.

Five of the victims|are possible donors.

Five organs offer a fair chance.

They're rushing them off|to St Joseph's.

That's why he sent the ambulances.

That's right.

The petrol tank|was down to a minimum.

He wanted to cause|as little harm as possible,

only this time|it wasn't exactly imperceptible.

Why all these?|Why all the symbols?

He didn't plan|to die in the accident.

His idea was to jump in time|to avoid being a suspect.

How do you know?

When the bus crashed,|the doors were already open.

And what about the other deaths?

Well, if only the children|had been killed,

he would have been|the prime suspect.

Making us believe|in a serial killer

took the spotlight off him.

Only he miscalculated|and didn't get out in time.

So, he didn't really want|to kill the other people,

- he just needed an alibi?|- Exactly.

Shame we didn't work it out sooner.

So much

for logic.

You were just a pawn in his game.

You have nothing|to feel guilty about.

You don't know what you're saying.

You don't need to get on a plane.

Sorry?

I said, you don't need to get on|a plane. You're already miles away.

I was just thinking...

Really?

Ok.|From now on,

we are just two tourists

in an airport with the heaviest|rucksack I've ever seen.

What did you pack in here anyway?

Oh, you know, just the essentials.|A double bed, a cooker,

for making spaghetti

- and a couple of other things.|- Well, I hope

you didn't pack a single|one of your mystery novels.

Of course not!

No mystery novels,|no symbols, no Oxford.

We had a deal, remember?

You gonna be able to live like this?

Yes.

Just you and me.

Come on.

Thank you.

Can I have your|boarding pass, please?

He didn't know!

Martin?

That old f***er tricked me!

He didn't know|what the third symbol was!

My God!

You've got the pictures with you?

What is this?

"Kreis".

What is that?

She spent 3 years|deciphering German codes.

Excuse me, sir,|you can't do that here.

Of course!

Kreis is German for circle.

He came up with it on the spot!

Have you been here before?

I never had a chance.

It would be a pity to leave the|country without seeing this place.

This is the largest

collection of fakes in the world.

Not even Michelangelo

can distinguish|this David from his original.

Trajan's column|we believe to be in Rome,

but we are sure|that this is a common

plaster copy.

I feel at ease here.

No one tries to deceive me.

In effect, Martin,|this is the place

that contains the most truth|in the entire planet.

We have an absolute truth:

everything is fake.

Outside of these walls

nobody is sure of anything.

You took a big risk in giving me|a blank piece of paper.

That was important.|I had to convince you that I knew

what the sign was when, at|that moment, I wasn't at all sure.

I knew you wouldn't|let me down, Martin.

Your pride wouldn't let you open|this piece of paper

until you had|a solution of your own,

and that, if I might say,|was going to take some time.

There was no serial killer.

It was an invention,|just like Petersen said.

But it wasn't|the bus driver's invention.

It was yours.

You invented a series of killings|to hide the only real crime:

the death of Mrs. Eagleton.|Beth killed her,

just as the police had suspected|from the very beginning.

Beth hated her life.|She couldn't put up

with that woman any more|so she killed her.

That's when she sent you a note

asking for help.

I couldn't look her in the face.

It was my fault that her father|was killed in that accident

I couldn't let her down again.

We both met at the door.

You'd come to get rid|of the evidence,

but I was there, in the way,|and that spoiled everything.

You had to come up with|a new plan, in front of me,

just moments before the police|arrived. You read the word

"circle" in German|on the Scrabble rack,

and that gave you the idea.

A series with|infinite possibilities.

But you needed a second death

to convince the police|that the murderer was not Beth.

And unwittingly, I helped you.

I gave you the idea of how|to do it, without even realising.

An imperceptible murder.

A murderer who only kills

someone who is at

death's door. You only had

to wait for the occasion|and prick the body with a syringe.

That's when you sent|the second message. The fish.

You still didn't know|where all this was going to lead.

The possibilities of continuing|the series were still infinite.

You had to wait for|another occasion to arise.

And that could take weeks, months.

There was no hurry.

You probably had a different plan|for the third death,

but that triangle player suddenly|appeared like a gift from the gods,

- and you had your solution.|- At first I rejected it.

Too many people, too operatic.

Don't lie.

You couldn't waste

a chance like that.

What's more, there was a triangle.|It all took on meaning!

Beautiful... It was as if|the damned Pythagoreans

were on your side.

It was perfect,|but what's more important,

it was totally inoffensive.

Until the madman appeared.

Any one of our acts can have|unexpected consequences.

That's what you most feared.

Who was to know that poor devil

was going to read|the article in the paper?

He was looking for a solution|to his daughter's problem,

while every day he drove to school|those healthy children

with perfect lungs|but damaged brains.

Why did they deserve to live|and not his daughter?

Mathematicians are not the only ones|familiar with the Greeks, professor.

You gave him his solution|when you published the series.

He also wanted to hide his crime.

He only had to make|a phone call, and he did.

So...

you think I'm the killer.

No.

You haven't killed anyone,

but you're guilty of provoking the|deaths of those innocent children.

You're guilty of arrogance,

of using us all like|pieces on a board game.

Who the hell do you think you are?

I hope my failure has, at least,|served to teach you something.

Yes, one thing.

One very painful thing.

Numbers also lie.

The truth is not mathematical,|as I once believed.

It's absurd, confused, random,

disorderly, and deeply unpleasant.

I'm glad that finally we can agree|on something, Martin, my friend.

Just one thing has escaped you.

The real culprit.

The one who triggered off|this whole string of crimes.

Who?

You, Martin.

Don't make me laugh.

If you don't believe me,|then speak to Beth.

She was in love with you,

or weren't you aware of that?

She remembered|your words exactly.

"You should try it."

"You should try it,"|pounded time and again

inside her head, like a hammer.

"You should be free, like me."

That's what she understood,

and that's what she did.

Put an end to what|prevented her from being free...

her own mother.

The butterfly

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