(Will McEwan enters the church and begins to smash up the statue of Christ. King hears someone inside and enters also.)

REVEREND KING: Who’s there? Who are you? What the devil are you doing up there?

WILL: (to 999) Police?

REVEREND KING: I’m talking to you.

WILL: I’d like to report a murder.


WILL: On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary, I lost my way.

REVEREND KING: Oh, for God’s sake, Will. Please.

WILL: And now we’ve reached the end of our journey, Reverend King.

REVEREND KING: No, Will, please, no! No!

(Outside the church, in the morning. Lewis gets out of his car.)

HOBSON: Morning. Where’s your better half?

LEWIS: If by that you mean Sergeant Hathaway…

HOBSON: I was gonna say your Mini-Me, but I didn’t think you’d get the pop culture reference.

LEWIS: Don’t be daft, woman. Even I’ve seen The Italian Job.

(They enter the church.)

LEWIS: Dear God. This was his 999 call.

WILL: (on the tape recorder) I’d like to report a murder.

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

LEWIS: But this was definitely self-inflicted?

HOBSON: No doubt. He shot himself.

LEWIS: When you push someone hard enough in the right direction, then suicide become a murder weapon.

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

LEWIS: Is this what this is about? An extreme grudge against the Church?

HOBSON: Also, this got the brunt.

LEWIS: “The Garden”.

HOBSON: “Christian answers to contemporary questions.” Hardly a suicide cult.

(Hathaway enters.)

HATHAWAY: Cheery start to the day. Do we have an ID?

HOBSON: Yes. His name’s Will –


(Hathaway runs out.)

(Outside the church.)

HOBSON: Lewis? Suicide note in his pocket. Back of a photograph.

LEWIS: “On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary, I lost my way.”

HOBSON: Gethsemane is –

LEWIS: The Garden of Gethsemane. Christ’s Last Supper. I knew that. And Calvary’s the site of the crucifixion. Had to be biblical, didn’t it?

HOBSON: Hathaway all right?

LEWIS: I’m not sure.

(In another part of the church.)



LEWIS: Inspector Lewis. You’re the vicar of St Mark’s?

REVEREND KING: Francis King, yes. He just shot himself. Right in front of me.

LEWIS: Did you know this boy Will McEwan?

REVEREND KING: 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.

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

REVEREND KING: I can’t say it rings any bells. Why?

LEWIS: Do you know who this is with Will?

REVEREND KING: Er, oh, yes, yes, that’s Feardorcha Phelan. Also a Mayfield scholar. I haven’t seen him in years. He was a troubled boy.

LEWIS: Would you say the name again, sir?

REVEREND KING: Yes, it’s an odd spelling. Here: Feardorcha Phelan. It’s all… such a waste.

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

REVEREND KING: No. No one does. About three years ago, at least, he just… disappeared.

(Outside the church.)

LEWIS: Were you, er –

HATHAWAY: Yeah. We were close.

LEWIS: Best get off home, then. There’s a conflict of interest.

HATHAWAY: 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.

LEWIS: Well, if you’re sure.

HATHAWAY: Yeah, I’m fine.

LEWIS: Did you ever hear of this group, The Garden?

HATHAWAY: No, what is it?

LEWIS: Not sure yet. Apparently, Will was very devout.

HATHAWAY: I’m not surprised.

LEWIS: Then he desecrates a church?

HATHAWAY: Well, you can believe in God and still be angry with Him.

LEWIS: His friend’s Feardorcha Phelan. Do you know him?

HATHAWAY: Vaguely. Met him a couple of times.

LEWIS: 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.

HATHAWAY: “On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary, I lost my way.”

LEWIS: The Garden of Gethsemane. That’s where this group, The Garden, gets their name. I need to know what they’re all about. “Christian answers to contemporary questions”, that could mean anything. What do you know about his family?

HATHAWAY: Only child, parents were local, divorced when we were kids.

LEWIS: Hmm. Gethsemane. The sort of explains the Garden bit, but what’s Calvary all about?

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

(The Reverend King enters Dr Melville’s home.)

REVEREND KING: (to the nurse) Thank you. Carey.

DR MELVILLE: I have nothing to say to you.

REVEREND KING: 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.

DR MELVILLE: I go to my God with a good conscience.

REVEREND KING: Please. If this is the last time we speak…

DR MELVILLE: Oh? You want me to forgive you. (whispers) Judas.

(In an Oxford college.)

HATHAWAY: Henry McEwan is a big property developer. He’s a local entrepreneur.

LEWIS: So Will had a rich dad.

HATHAWAY: Yeah. They were very different people. Will was very gentle and softly spoken. Henry’s a little bit more…

HENRY McEWAN: (into his phone) Listen, you dickless little inbred. Can you hear that? That’s nothing. That is the sound of nothing. That is the sound your phone is gonna make the rest of your professional life, unless you get this sorted now. (To Lewis and Hathaway) What?

LEWIS: Mr McEwan? It’s about Will.

(Inside the building.)

HENRY McEWAN: It was his birthday last month. I thought I should call him. My last chance. I could’ve just said hello, I could’ve just…

LEWIS: Will rang 999 to tell us what he’d planned. Can you think why he’d have done that?

HENRY McEWAN: I don’t know him. Not anymore.

LEWIS: You and your son weren’t on speaking terms?

HENRY McEWAN: No. He made certain choices. Life choices. And I wasn’t… where do I know you from?

HATHAWAY: I was a friend of Will’s.

HENRY McEWAN: You came to stay with us.


HENRY McEWAN: Yeah, I remember, yeah. He thought the world of you. So why wasn’t he happy? What was wrong with him?

HATHAWAY: I don’t know. I hadn’t seen him in a while.

HENRY McEWAN: But you live in Oxford, yeah?


HENRY McEWAN: And when I found out what he was… doing… I couldn’t look him in the eye anymore.


LEWIS: You stayed with the family?

HATHAWAY: Yeah, one summer when we were fourteen. I should have told you, I’m sorry.

LEWIS: What did Henry mean, ‘what he was doing’?

HATHAWAY: I think Will was gay.

LEWIS: You think?

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

LEWIS: So, was this Feardorcha his boyfriend then?

HATHAWAY: Maybe. Maybe that’s what caused the rift between Henry and Will.

LEWIS: What a shame. If my boy was… ah, it just wouldn’t matter.

(In Mayfield College.)

NOVA ROSE: This is blatant homophobia, Lady Hugh.

LADY HUGH: I am not homophobic, it is a question of health and safety.

NOVA ROSE: Don’t give me that, please.

LADY HUGH: Just because you don’t want to listen, young lady, doesn’t make it any less the truth.

NOVA ROSE: You couldn’t wait. New Chair of University Grounds, get to ban everything that offends your Christian sensibilities.

LADY HUGH: My faith has nothing to do with anything, it is health and safety.

NOVA ROSE: Banning gay pride?

LADY HUGH: You are free to assemble anywhere you wish, but not on university land. Health and safety.

NOVA ROSE: I know what goes on behind closed doors.

LADY HUGH: Set thine own house in order. And get out!

NOVA ROSE: I am the best barrister in this city, and I will slaughter you in court. Oh, and do have a leaflet.

(In the Botanic Garden.)

WILL: (over voicemail) Hey, it’s Will. Leave me a message. Jonjo: (into his 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.

(Outside Sadie McEwan’s house, Lewis and Hathaway pull up.)

LEWIS: You okay?

HATHAWAY: Er, yeah. It’s just, erm… Will’s mum was such a lovely lady.

(They go into her house.)

LEWIS: Mrs McEwan, Inspector Lewis.

SADIE: Yes, come in. Erm, sorry about the mess. I’m usually very… if I’d known I’d have company…

LEWIS: I’m very sorry about Will.


HATHAWAY: I, erm, I don’t know whether you remember me. I was a friend of Will’s from school.

SADIE: James. James Hathaway.

HATHAWAY: I’m so sorry, Mrs McEwan.

SADIE: 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.

HATHAWAY: Thank you.

SADIE: Such a shame you and Will fell out.

HATHAWAY: It wasn’t really a falling out.

SADIE: Oh? Mothers always get the wrong end of the stick. You think you know what someone’s doing, and then… and it turns out that… And after he met that lovely girl.

HATHAWAY: What girl was that?

SADIE: Zoë Kenneth. She was Will’s girlfriend.

(Outside Mrs McEwan’s house.)

LEWIS: Girlfriend? How does that fit in?

HATHAWAY: It doesn’t. Will was gay.

LEWIS: Yeah, or in denial. Putting on a fake relationship just for show. Why did Sadie think you two fell out?

HATHAWAY: Oh, we did different GCSEs, that’s all. Then I saw him again when I was going through my priestly phase in Oxford. And he was still such a sweet guy.

LEWIS: But you lost contact again?

HATHAWAY: I was training to be a priest, kind of closes your life down a bit. And then I was training to be a policeman.

LEWIS: And that closes your life down even more.

HATHAWAY: Thank heavens we found each other, sir.

(Lewis’ phone rings.)

LEWIS: (into his phone) Lewis. Yeah. Oh yes, thank you. No, I’ll come over tomorrow. Early, yeah.

HATHAWAY: Everything all right?

LEWIS: Got myself a new hobby.

HATHAWAY: What hobby is that, then?

LEWIS: Never you mind, sergeant. We all have to have our little secrets.

(In Oxford, Jonjo finds a disc in his post. He goes back to his house and watches the disc on his computer.)

WILL: (on the recording) Hello, Jonjo. I’m afraid I’m dead. But there’s something I need you to do.

(In the Reverend King’s house, the doorbell rings. He answers it.)

REVEREND KING: You’d better come in.

(In Hathaway’s house, he calls Feardorcha Phelan.)

FEARDORCHA: (on his voicemail) Hey there, you’ve reached Feardorcha Phelan’s voicemail, so leave a message. Cheers.

HATHAWAY: (into the phone) 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.

(In the Reverend King’s house, he has been tied to a chair with a gag over his mouth. Someone slowly pushes a red hot poker into his eyes.)

(In Hathaway’s house, his phone rings. The caller ID says Feardorcha Phelan.)

HATHAWAY: (into the phone) Feardorcha? Hello? Hello?

(There is heavy breathing on the other end of the line.)

HATHAWAY: Hello? Say something.

(In the allotment yard.)

MR COOPER: Do you understand the responsibility of what you’re taking on?

LEWIS: I do.

MR COOPER: Not one to be undertaken lightly.

LEWIS: I know. I’ve been on the waiting list over a year.

MR COOPER: Ah, competitive world, allotmenting. Early retirement, is it?

LEWIS: Excuse me?

MR COOPER: Your retirement, are you taking it –

LEWIS: Oh, no. I’m not retired. I’m just… I don’t know. I wanted something to do that wasn’t work.

MR COOPER: Er, well, here we are. Do you know what you’re gonna grow yet?

LEWIS: Vegetables. Peas, marrows, sort of thing.

MR COOPER: Drainage is wrong for peas.

LEWIS: Oh, right.

MR COOPER: Marrows? I wouldn’t risk it. Exposure’s wrong for marrows.

LEWIS: Carrots?

MR COOPER: Yeah. Carrots. Well, enjoy.

(Lewis’ phone rings.)

LEWIS: (into his phone) Lewis. I’ll be right there.

(Outside the Reverend King’s house.)

HOBSON: Morning.

HATHAWAY: Morning.

LEWIS: Coincidence? He’s only vicar of St Mark’s church, where your friend…

HATHAWAY: Killed himself?

LEWIS: Yeah. The Reverend Francis King. Do you know him?

HATHAWAY: Yeah, I did. Not well. He was very active in the local church community.

LEWIS: Did you like him?

HATHAWAY: Bit too hang-‘em-and-flog-‘em for me.

HOBSON: Shall we go in?

HOBSON: 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.

HATHAWAY: Too gruesome?

HOBSON: 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.

LEWIS: Much too hot for a fire last night. Must have started that specially.

HATHAWAY: Firebird Suite. Stravinsky.

LEWIS: Firebird, fire, poker. Do you think there could be a connection.

HOBSON: Oh yes. As they say in pantomime: it’s behind you.

LEWIS: “Life born of fire”? What the hell does that mean?

(In King’s study.)

HATHAWAY: I was just going to say that I don’t envy the fellow who’s got to sort through all of this, and then I remembered that it would be me.

LEWIS: That’s almost volunteering. Good man. Keep an eye open for anything else that might link King to Will McEwan.

HATHAWAY: Do you think they’re connected?

LEWIS: The phoenix. The firebird. “Life born of fire”.

(In Mayfield College.)

PORTER: Good morning, Lady Hugh. These are for you.

LADY HUGH: Thank you, Brian.

(In Lewis and Hathaway’s office.)

LEWIS: Apparently we’re using too many paper clips. I’ve just been reprimanded by Stores.

HATHAWAY: I take that very seriously, sir. From now on I am a staples man. I found this highlighted among King’s stuff. Last week’s Herald, Charlie Newton. Bit of a character assassination on King.

LEWIS: “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 programmes. Having fallen foul of the Oxford God set, King is now definitely out of the fold and in the cold.

HATHAWAY: Journalist with a bee in his bonnet.

LEWIS: “Outreach programmes”. Could that mean The Garden?

(In the city.)

LEWIS: Excuse me. Mr Newton?

NEWTON: Er, has he offended you with his writing?


NEWTON: In which case then yes, I am.

LEWIS: Inspector Lewis, Oxford CID. This is Sergeant Hathaway.

NEWTON: Charmed. Now, how can I help you, and is there a story in it?

LEWIS: We’re interested in the Reverend Francis King.

NEWTON: Ah, my favourite subject.

LEWIS: Ah. We read your article. You sound a bit angry.

NEWTON: I’ll lay my cards on the table. I’ve no time for organised religion, nor the organisers of it. King’s a hateful little man. The Good Samaritan wouldn’t have crossed the road for him.

LEWIS: What do you know about The Garden?

NEWTON: 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 organisers.

LEWIS: Told us he’d never heard of it.

NEWTON: 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.

HATHAWAY: Which one of what, sir?

NEWTON: 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.

(Outside Will McEwan’s house.)

LEWIS: The Reverend King runs a Christian youth group which Will McEwan’s a member of. The boy commits suicide in King’s church. Twenty-four hours later, King’s dead. Thoughts?

HATHAWAY: Fire. Significant. Red-hot poker cauterising the brain; King is essentially burned to death.

(They enter his house.)

HATHAWAY: It could be about revenge. Someone blames King for Will’s state of mind.

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

HATHAWAY: Like what, sir?

LEWIS: Anything relevant to the case.


LEWIS: 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?

HATHAWAY: Well, the Will I used to know was fastidiously tidy. This mess… this must be a sign of his distress. Got crucifixes and Bible in pride of place. He still believed.

LEWIS: Bit of a Brazil thing going on.

HATHAWAY: Last holiday?

LEWIS: No. No visa. Looks like the last time he left for the EU was for Morocco, four years ago. Same design of glass as the Reverend King’s.

HATHAWAY: They’re pretty generic. IKEA, I think I’ve got some. Yeah.

LEWIS: Hmm. “On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary, I lost my way.”

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

LEWIS: Yeah, except Christ made it to Calvary. Will lost his way. “Life born of fire.” I bet that means something in Latin.

HATHAWAY: What makes you say that?

LEWIS: This is Oxford. Everything always means something in Latin.

(In Oxford, Jonjo’s phone rings.)

JONJO: (into his phone) Hello?

NEWTON: Hello mate. I’m so sorry about Will. Yeah. But listen, I thought you should know: King’s dead.

JONJO: Good.

(In a pub garden.)

LEWIS: How are you doing with King’s paperwork?

HATHAWAY: Nothing yet. He was a bit of a hoarder. I haven’t been able to find out anything about Zoë Kenneth, Will’s alleged girlfriend.

LEWIS: Well, maybe she’s new to Oxford.

HATHAWAY: 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.

LEWIS: Well, that Brazil tourist stuff at Will’s flat could be from him. Try the Brazilian police.

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

LEWIS: His number wasn’t on Will’s phone.

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

LEWIS: Yeah, good. If we can get a phone trace on it, it would save us a lot of legwork. That church, St Mark’s, has just reopened. I don’t know if you wanted to pay your respects.

(In St Mark’s church.)

HATHAWAY: Hello. Are you a friend of Will’s?

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

HATHAWAY: Detective Sergeant Hathaway.

ZOË: I hate churches. Trust Will to finally get me back in one.

HATHAWAY: I didn’t catch your name.

ZOË: I didn’t drop it. But it’s Zoë. Zoë Kenneth.

HATHAWAY: Will’s girlfriend.

ZOË: If only it were that simple. How did you know?

HATHAWAY: Er, Will’s mum, Sadie.

ZOË: God. I should go and see her, poor woman. Will was the light of her life. The light of all our lives.

HATHAWAY: Yeah, I knew him from school.

ZOË: Hathaway.

HATHAWAY: James Hathaway.

ZOË: I don’t think he mentioned you.


ZOË: But I’m not very good with names. Ironic, seeing as I’m a semiologist. William from Wilhelm, meaning ‘desire and protection’. Protection.

HATHAWAY: So, you and Will.

ZOË: 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?

HATHAWAY: Do you drink in the Morestead?

ZOË: 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…

HATHAWAY: Do you know Feardorcha Phelan?

ZOË: 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.

(She leaves.)

(Outside the church.)

JONJO: James.

HATHAWAY: Jonjo. I thought you were in South America.

JONJO: I came back. So Will’s dead, then?

HATHAWAY: I’m sorry.

JONJO: Yeah, I’d imagine you must feel pretty guilty about that.

HATHAWAY: I’d no idea Will was suicidal.

JONJO: How could you possibly know, James? You have to be around to see it.

HATHAWAY: We hadn’t seen each other in a while.

JONJO: I know. “It’s complicated.” I’m sorry. Really bad day.

HATHAWAY: Are you staying around?

(Hathaway’s phone rings.)

HATHAWAY: (into the phone) Hello? (Ice cream truck music playing through the phone.) Hello? (Heavy breathing coming from the phone.)

(The ice cream truck drives past.)


(In the police station.)

LEWIS: Hot off the lab. The full DNA profile on the saliva is going to take a while. But we can safely rule out 51% of the population from the inquiry.

HATHAWAY: The killer is a man.

LEWIS: Yeah. Chromosomes, one X, one Y. One of 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.

HATHAWAY: Not Will’s dad, then. Oh, I met Zoë Kenneth at the church today. She’s a bit upset. Maybe I should interview her alone.

LEWIS: Yeah, if you think that’s best. Enjoy your reading.

(He leaves. After a moment Hathaway gets up and runs after him.)

(In the corridor.)

HATHAWAY: Sir! Sir! One group photo of The Garden.

LEWIS: Isn’t she the Warden of Mayfield College?

HATHAWAY: Lady Hugh, yes. This is Dr Carey Melville. He was Dean of Mayfield before Reverend King. So, The Garden is run through Mayfield. Lady Hugh, Melville, and King must be the organisers. Look at this. Written to King.

(He gives Lewis a letter)

LEWIS: “From the desk of Lady Hugh. In reference to your previous letter, the decision to remove you from the college committees on which you serve was mine, and mine alone. Your rights of attendance were entirely my gift, a confidence which I now have no hesitation in withdrawing.” Charlie Newton was right. King was losing friends.

HATHAWAY: Interesting header, 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 gonna talk to Lady Hugh.

(By the Radcliffe Camera, the gay pride protest is going on.)

CONAN (AND ALL): (chanting) S-O-S-S! Save Our Screaming Spires! S-O-S-S! Save Our Screaming Spires!

CONAN: Protect our right to march for Gay Pride! Think pink, sign the petition, have a lollipop! S-O-S-S – Ladies and gentleman, here she comes, in her air-conditioned carriage 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 neighbour…

LEWIS: Clear away from the car now! Back away from the car, please! Lady Hugh, come on madam.

CONAN: Why won’t you let us march? Why won’t you let us march?

LEWIS: Clear away! Come on, madam. Clear away! Clear away! You’ll be charged with obstruction.

CONAN: When did your God make you judge and jury? Ask yourself –

LEWIS: Get it shut.

(He and Lady Hugh get inside Mayfield College.)

LADY HUGH: My knight in shining armour.

LEWIS: Detective Inspector Lewis, Lady Hugh.

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?

LEWIS: Oh, actually, I just happened to be passing, ma’am.

LADY HUGH: ‘The merciful man doeth good to his own soul.’ And that deserves a cup of tea, at least.

LEWIS: Ah, thank you ma’am.

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

LEWIS: Oh, Robbie, please.

LADY HUGH: Robbie.

LEWIS: Well, I was doing some background research into the Reverend Francis King. I don’t know if you knew him.

LADY HUGH: Yes, of course. Such a terrible business, his murder.

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

LADY HUGH: Oh, The Garden? Yes, well, that was one of our projects from, oh, many years ago now.

LEWIS: Could you tell me a bit about it?

LADY HUGH: Well, it acted as a sort of mutual support group. Young people and their problems, you know.

LEWIS: Christian answers to contemporary questions?

LADY HUGH: Quite, yes. I didn’t have a hands-on role, you understand. That was the Reverend King’s department.

LEWIS: And Dr Carey Melville?

LADY HUGH: Well, The Garden was Carey’s brainchild, but perhaps you know all this already.

LEWIS: You had a falling-out with the Reverend King, is that right, ma’am?

LADY HUGH: I wouldn’t say that, no.

LEWIS: We found this.

(He gives Lady Hugh the letter)

LADY HUGH: It has no bearing on his death.

LEWIS: I’ll be the judge of that, ma’am.

LADY HUGH: I didn’t kill him, and I wrote this letter. The two are not connected.

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

LADY HUGH: ‘Whatsoever a man soweth, so shall he reap.’

LEWIS: An eye for an eye?

LADY HUGH: 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.

LEWIS: ‘On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary, I lost my way.’ Does that mean anything to you, ma’am ?

LADY HUGH: Nothing at all. What is it?

LEWIS: Will McEwan’s suicide note.

(In the police station)

INNOCENT: Let me get this clear, Hathaway. You knew Will McEwan and both his parents, as well as Feardorcha and the Reverend King?

HATHAWAY: Yes, ma’am.

INNOCENT: And you’re okay with this, Lewis?

LEWIS: Yes, ma’am. Should I not be?

INNOCENT: Conflict of interest?

LEWIS: Sergeant Hathaway assures me not, ma’am.

INNOCENT: Right. What else?

LEWIS: Possibility that the murder’s connected with Will McEwan’s suicide.

HATHAWAY: I managed to find some financial documents among King’s stuff. He had a lot of money coming in recently. A small fortune, in fact, transferred from an account in UBS in Switzerland.

LEWIS: Possibly he was blackmailing somebody. Or being bribed.

HATHWAY: 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.

INNOCENT: Feardorcha Phelan? No one’s had any contact with him?

HATHAWAY: No, ma’am, but I was able to get his mobile number.

INNOCENT: From who?

HATHAWAY: Zoë Kenneth, Will’s friend. It’s a non-registered, pay-as-you-go mobile, so there’s no postal address. But the network rate was able to tell me he was in the Oxford area in the last twenty-four hours.

INNOCENT: 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?

HATHAWAY: Bet you Will’s dad does.

LEWIS: And there’s this from the lab. The dark hair at the Reverend King’s house was dyed. Difficult to say what the natural colour was, ‘cause the sample’s too small, but it was a lot lighter. Blonde, maybe redheaded. Or grey.

(In the corridor)

HATHAWAY: Men who might have dyed their hair. Henry McEwan? Charlie Newton?

LEWIS: Of course, we’re assuming the hair and saliva at King’s place are from the same person. Well, King might have had a drink with one person and then been murdered by another.

HATHAWAY: So the hair could have come from a man or a woman.

LEWIS: Or two or more people working together.

HATHAWAY: Are we overestimating the connection to Will’s suicide?

LEWIS: No, the phoenix, that’s the link. ‘Life born of fire’. I mean, that’s the killer telling us that King’s death is linked to The Garden and its phoenix. And to Will. Let’s assume there was an accomplice, and it’s a woman. Lady Hugh, maybe? Will’s mother?

HATHAWAY: What, Sadie McEwan?

LEWIS: Well, who knows, case like this? Zoë Kenneth? What colour’s her hair?

HATHAWAY: Er, black, but you don’t think that she –

LEWIS: Let’s find out more about her. Let’s find out more about everybody. You planning to go to Will’s funeral?


LEWIS: Keep your eyes and ears open. Funerals and weddings, people tend to let their guard down.


LEWIS: Feardorcha Phelan. He’s a redhead, could have dyed it since. Keep an eye open for him.

(In Carey Melville’s bedroom)

LADY HUGH: ‘On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary, I lost my way.’ Can that really be true? God help us if it is.

DR MELVILLE: The phoenix.


(Hathaway gets dressed for the funeral in his house)

(At the funeral)

NEWTON: Hello, Mr McEwan.

HENRY McEWAN: Give me one of those. No! Get off me. I don’t need anybody’s help.

CONAN: What’s wrong with him?

NEWTON: He’s been drinking.

ZOË: If Will were here, he’d have died of embarrassment.


ZOË: James. It is James isn’t it? Only I’m terrible with names –

HATHAWAY: Terrible with names, you said.

ZOË: Seems wrong, doesn’t it? Laughing at a funeral.

HATHAWAY: Can’t imagine how she feels.

ZOË: Will was… wonderful. I know at least ten people, who, if ever they were in trouble, would have called him first.

HATHAWAY: How’d you meet?

ZOË: At a bus stop. Number ninety-six. Started dating, which lasted all of six weeks. So, Romeo and Juliet became Will and Grace. He was my best friend.

(The organ starts playing and the coffin is brought in)

(In Carey Melville’s room)

DR MELVILLE: Will McEwan. Such a sweet boy. Sweet. And so tragic.

LEWIS: Tragic how, sir?

DR MELVILLE: Caught between two stations. Who he was, and who he should be.

LEWIS: Could you be more specific, sir?

DR MELVILLE: We taught them to be like the phoenix. Burn away the old life, emerge reborn.

LEWIS: ‘Life born of fire’.

DR MELVILLE: He was losing his faith. His heart was empty. Such a sweet boy.

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

DR MELVILLE: Thirty pieces of silver. The money-lenders in the temple.

LEWIS: What temple, Dr Melville? Dr Melville?

(At the funeral)

JONJO: Will was quite simply the nicest person I knew. Everyone who knew him said the same. Then something changed. And that wonderful light we all saw in him just faded.

(Lady Hugh enters)

JONJO: Er, sorry. Will said he believed in God as strongly as ever. But he truly wished he didn’t. Faith, he said, is a curse. He wanted me to read this poem. ‘The boy stood on the burning deck / Whence all but he had fled / The flame that lit the battle’s wreck / Shone round him o’er the dead / Yet beautiful and bright he stood / As born to rule the storm / A creature of heroic blood / A proud, though childlike storm.’

(Outside the church)

NEWTON: That’s beautiful, Conan.

JONJO: James.


ZOË: If you’ll excuse me, I’m just gonna say hi to Sadie.

HATHAWAY: That was a lovely reading, Jonjo.

JONJO: Yeah. Public school nonsense, really. But Will seemed to like it. Pushed us all away in the end for her.

HATHAWAY: Have you had any contact with Feardorcha?

JONJO: It’s Will’s funeral. Let’s leave the formal police interview for another day, shall we?

HATHAWAY: Yeah, I know, I’m sorry.

JONJO: I’m upset, you know.

HATHAWAY: Why’s that?

JONJO: Trying to avoid me. Even after all these years.

HATHAWAY: Now, don’t be stupid.

JONJO: Come on, James. You know what you did, don’t you?

HATHAWAY: I’m sorry.

LEWIS: You two friends?

HATHAWAY: Not really.

LEWIS: He was close to Will?

HATHAWAY: Yeah, very.

LEWIS: But you don’t think he’s worth interviewing?

HATHAWAY: Yeah, you’re right. I should have said something before. I’m sorry.

LEWIS: Not like you to drop the ball.

HATHAWAY: It’s just today, you know? I’ll speak to him.

LEWIS: If you’re sure.

SADIE: James. Thank you for coming. I’m glad to have caught you, Inspector. I wondered… may we speak?

(In the graveyard)

SADIE: He loved Oxford. He loved his life here. When he brought his boyfriend home, that was a bit of a shock, but… he was happy. So I was happy too. And then something changed in him. They rowed endlessly, until finally Feardorcha disappeared, and Will faded away.

HATHAWAY: When did Will start seeing Zoë Kenneth?

SADIE: Erm, a few months ago. His first ever girlfriend. He seemed more optimistic. I really hoped it would work. But then they split up, and…

LEWIS: Can you think what might have started Will’s deterioration?

SADIE: New Year’s Eve, 2001. That’s the first time I really noticed it. It must have been over the course of that year that Will started this… self-loathing. And something else happened that year. Will joined a group called The Garden. Not that he told me anything about it, but the timing, it all fits. What if… they did something to him?

(In the street)

HATHAWAY: Jonjo said that faith is a curse.

LEWIS: And is it?

HATHAWAY: No, but it can make things difficult sometimes.

LEWIS: Why did you… ah, none of my business.

HATHAWAY: Leave the priesthood?

LEWIS: Yeah.

HATHAWAY: None of your business.

LEWIS: Zoë Kenneth and Feardorcha Phelan never met, did they?


LEWIS: But she gave you his number.

HATHAWAY: I suppose he gave it to her.

LEWIS: What, he gave her his ex-boyfriend’s number?

HATHWAY: I don’t know, why?

LEWIS: If you say you got the number from Zoë, and that you only knew Jonjo slightly, I’ll believe you.

HATHAWAY: What is this?

LEWIS: Timing. Will started to get depression and you left the priesthood around the time the two of you met up again in Oxford. Did something happen between the two of you that I don’t know about?


(In the allotments)



MR COOPER: Lots of reasons folk take on allotments. Boredom’s one, obsession’s one. Most common, thought, frustration. Nagging wife, noisy kids, trouble at work.

LEWIS: My kids are grown up. My wife’s died.

MR COOPER: Oh. Work, then?

LEWIS: If I was to retire, this could be me every day.

MR COOPER: Well, why don’t you, then?

LEWIS: How do you trust somebody you don’t really know?

MR COOPER: You trust what you really know about them.

LEWIS: So, why do you do it, then? The allotmenting.

MR COOPER: I like beans.

(At Mayfield College)

LEWIS: Is Lady Hugh about?

PORTER: I’m sorry, sir. She’s not been in today.

LEWIS: Oh, okay. Thanks.

NOVA ROSE: Excuse me, got a light?

LEWIS: Sorry, don’t smoke.

NOVA ROSE: No one does, these days. Now, you look like a policeman.

LEWIS: What gave me away?

NOVA ROSE: Your shoes. Plus, I think I recognise you from court. Oh, I’m a barrister. Nova Rose.

LEWIS: Sorry, is that a –

NOVA ROSE: My real name? Yes. Mother was a romantic, Father was a Jew. Rosenbank contracted to Rose, Nova meaning ‘new’. Mother’s attempt at Zeitgeist.

LEWIS: My mum only managed a Robert for me. Not very edgy, I’m afraid.

NOVA ROSE: Well, you could be a Rob, or a Robbie, or a Bert, or a Bertie. Splits in so many interesting ways. Now, Bertie, tell me you’ve come to Mayfield College to arrest that old bag, Anna Hugh.

LEWIS: I couldn’t possibly comment. But no.

NOVA ROSE: 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. Do you ever look at her and think that has to be a man in drag?

LEWIS: I don’t suppose you happen to know anything about Lady Hugh falling out with a Reverend King, do you?

NOVA ROSE: 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.

LEWIS: Communion?

NOVA ROSE: The hot new ticket.

LEWIS: Oh, a nightclub?

NOVA ROSE: The nightclub, Bertie. And tell them I sent you, they owe me a favour.

(Her mobile rings)

NOVA ROSE: Oh, that’s me. Yeah, got to dash. Bertie, it’s been a slice.

(In Hathaway’s house, he rings Zoë.)

ZOË: (on answering machine) Hi, this is Zoë Kenneth. Please leave a message.

(Hathaway stops the call.)

(At Communion)

LEWIS: Mr McEwan. So, you’re the owner of this club?

HENRY McEWAN: Yeah. Where else could I get this drunk for free?

LEWIS: I’m trying to establish a connection between Lady Hugh and the Reverend Francis King. I’m told you might be the missing link.

HENRY McEWAN: Told by whom?

LEWIS: Nova Rose.

HENRY McEWAN: Nova Rose. What a peach.

LEWIS: She said you owe her a favour.

HENRY McEWAN: Well, 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.

LEWIS: Why would she do that, sir?

HENRY McEWAN: Old scores. Old wounds. Her and Lady Hugh. Lots of bad blood under that bridge. Oh shit, did I mix a metaphor? Needs tequila. Drink?

LEWIS: No, thank you.

HENRY McEWAN: I have nothing to say to the sober.

LEWIS: So, this building used to belong to Mayfield College?

HENRY McEWAN: Yeah. And Her Ladyship was most displeased that I was turning a house of God into a den of sin.

LEWIS: ‘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.

HENRY McEWAN: 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 thirty 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. He was my son. My little boy, my little William. Here’s to my boy. My queer little boy. My beautiful gay son.

(In Hathaway’s house, he is playing the guitar when the phone rings)


ZOË: (over the phone) I think you called and mysteriously forgot to leave a message.

HATHAWAY: How did you know it was me, Zoë?

ZOË: (over the phone) I don’t know anyone else who’d listen to chamber music.

HATHAWAY: Well, you should be a detective.

ZOË: Let’s go clubbing.

HATHAWAY: I can’t. I’m sorry. I really can’t.

(At Communion)

ZOË: 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.

NOVA ROSE: Nice to meet you.

CONAN: Aren’t you tall. You were at the funeral, weren’t you?

HATHAWAY: Yeah. I’m sorry about Will.

CONAN: Oh, it’s that bloody God squad I blame. Guilt-tripping him to the edge. 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. Did I mention I was gay? Does it show?

NOVA ROSE: Wouldn’t believe he got a first in economics, would you?

CONAN: It’s true, alas. My shallowness is only skin deep.

NOVA ROSE: Conan organises the Screaming Spires.

HATHAWAY: Gay Pride march?

CONAN: The one and only. Will we be seeing you there?

NOVA ROSE: If it happens at all. The warden of Mayfield College is barring us from using university land for the assembly.

CONAN: Let her try. If there’s one thing seven years at god-awful public school taught me, you don’t let the bullies win.

(In Carey Melville’s room, his machine starts beeping rapidly)

DR MELVILLE: I’m burning! I’m burning!

(Outside Carey Melville’s house)

LEWIS: Good night?

HATHAWAY: Eyes hurt, skin hurts, tongue too big for mouth.

LEWIS: Yeah, that’s a good night. Same killer, do we think?

HOBSON: ‘Life born of fire’? Definitely.

(In Melville’s room)

HOBSON: Death caused by magnesium sulphate. Gets into the bloodstream. Feels like you’re burning up from the inside.

LEWIS: Death by fire, again.

HOBSON: There’s a puncture in the drip bag. Magnesium was diluted, so it would have taken time to reach the lethal dose. And…

(She holds up a syringe with ‘Life born of fire’ written on it)

HOBSON: There’s a fingerprint, too.

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

(By the Radcliffe Camera)

JONJO: A few questions for you, Lady Hugh. I didn’t expect to see you at Will’s funeral.

LADY HUGH: Who are you? What is all this?

JONJO: I’m casting you in the leading role of my next film, Lady Hugh. Alongside Reverend King.

LADY HUGH: King’s dead.

JONJO: I’ve got all the footage I need of him already. So, how does it feel to have Will’s blood on your hands?

LADY HUGH: Will’s suicide is a tragedy. How am I involved with that?

JONJO: ‘On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary, I lost my way.’ I think we both know what that means.

LADY HUGH: I have nothing to say to you. And you have no right to invade my privacy.

JONJO: I have every right. I have the highest authority.

LADY HUGH: What do you mean by that?

JONJO: Message from the grave, Lady Hugh. Will died with unfinished business.

(In Innocent’s office)

LEWIS: 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.

INNOCENT: So who is it?

LEWIS: Feardorcha Phelan. Our killer.

(Lady Hugh enters her office to find a music box on her desk. She opens it and the Firebird Suite starts playing. Someone hits her over the head multiple times as she screams.)

(Outside Mayfield College, reporters surround Lewis and Hathaway)

LEWIS: Nothing to say. There’ll be a press statement later. Sometime this afternoon or later today. No, no comment.

(In Lady Hugh’s office. ‘Life born of fire’ has been scratched into the desk)

HATHAWAY: ‘Life born of fire’.

LEWIS: He’s carved it with this paper knife, and cut himself. Look. Left a blood sample.

HATHAWAY: That’s handy.

HOBSON: Several blows to the head. First couple would’ve knocked her out.

(Lewis looks at the music box.)

LEWIS: Phoenix. Mascot of Mayfield College.

(He opens it, and the music starts playing.)

HATHWAY: That’s the Firebird Suite, like at King’s.

LEWIS: He’s running out of ideas, though. It wasn’t death by fire this time.

HATHAWAY: No. He hit her with Vulcan, Roman god of fire and volcanoes.

HOBSON: The Phoenix Killer strikes again.

LEWIS: ‘Phoenix Killer’. Do we have to start calling him that?

(In the college quad)

LEWIS: I’ll bet you the fortune I’ll never have that blood’s Feardorcha’s. The messages, the fingerprints, the DNA evidence. Why’s he making it so obvious that it’s him.

HATHAWAY: Lady Hugh’s secretary is adamant that no one matching his description has been anywhere near here.

LEWIS: Could someone have, I don’t know, got a hold of some of Feardorcha’s blood?

HATHAWAY: What about the saliva on the wine glass?

LEWIS: We don’t know that the glasses belonged to King. Someone could have brought them to King’s house, having had a drink with Feardorcha first to get the saliva sample. It all brings us back to the same question: where is Feardorcha? Why does nobody ever see him?

(Outside the college)

POLICEMAN: Calm yourself down.

JONJO: No, I will not – look, I’m a filmmaker. That’s what I do, I make films. It’s not a crime yet, is it?

HATHAWAY: It’s all right, Martin, I’ll take it from here, yeah?

POLICEMAN: All right, sarge.

JONJO: Thank you.

HATHAWAY: Thanks, guys. What are you doing?

JONJO: Murdering bigots, according to your colleagues. And before you ask, no, I didn’t know it was gonna happen. If I had, I’d have brought I longer lens. I need to show you something.

WILL: (on the video camera) What I did to Feardorcha, his sacrifice. Please, make a film about why love is never wrong.

HATHAWAY: What was Feardorcha’s sacrifice?

JONJO: 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, but…


JONJO: I wasn’t really around that much. The last few months, Will really kept us at arm’s length. I don’t know why. Maybe it was to spend more time with Zoë Kenneth. Maybe he didn’t want us to get to know her.

HATHAWAY: What did you make of all of that?

JONJO: Weird. Not to mention unhealthy.

HATHAWAY: How’s your film going?

JONJO: The ending breaks your heart. I used that clip of Will. ‘Make a film where love is never wrong’. Hey, why don’t you talk to me about love?

HATHAWAY: Love, me? Er, God…

JONJO: Yes, James, even you. That little middle-aged heart of yours.

HATHAWAY: Yeah, don’t patronise me just ‘cause I don’t go shagging every Friday night. Erm, I love… the bells of Oxford. On the hour, every hour, like a soundtrack. Yeah. I love the bells of Oxford.

JONJO: And that’s not middle-aged?

HATHAWAY: I’m happy with my life.

JONJO: Yeah, right.

(Outside a café, Conan puts a disc into his laptop.)

WILL: (on the video) Hello, Conan. I’m afraid I’m dead. But there’s something I need you to do.

(In an interview room at the station)

NOVA ROSE: I’m very involved with Oxford Gay Rights, and Lady Hugh was very anti-them. So we clashed on several occasions. But I didn’t kill her.

LEWIS: No, we’re pretty sure who did. Feardorcha Phelan.


LEWIS: Will’s ex-boyfriend.

NOVA ROSE: Oh, the Irish nutjob. Sorry, Bertie, before my time.

LEWIS: Nutjob?

NOVA ROSE: Well, from what Charlie and Conan say, he had a bit of a mad-dog temper about him.

LEWIS: Could he have been blackmailing Will? There were large amounts of money going out of Will’s account.

NOVA ROSE: I doubt it. From what I heard, they were very much in love. But as I say, before my time.

LEWIS: So where did Will’s money go?

NOVA ROSE: I don’t know. Maybe Feardorcha needed it. Maybe Will gave it to him willingly. Maybe it was true love, after all. Not everything has to be cheapened by the exchange of funds. I’m a lawyer with paying clients, I should know.

LEWIS: King was cheapened. Henry McEwan’s thirty pieces of silver.

NOVA ROSE: King was greedy. And about to retire. His church pension would not keep him in the style to which he had become accustomed. It’s all so pointless. Will dead, then these church types. I mean, just because I’m not down on my knees in prayer, doesn’t mean I wish them dead. 1964 we abolished hanging, we’re supposed to have moved on since then. Feardorcha. You think he’s the killer?

LEWIS: Possibly not working alone.

NOVA ROSE: Oh. Bertie, I like you. So I hope you won’t think this needlessly antagonistic, but if you’re not going to arrest me, you have to let me go. And you’re not going to arrest me, are you?

(In the station corridor)

CONAN: Can I just confess and get it over with? I killed them! I killed them all! There you go. I’ve got a date waiting outside, you know that? Six foot four, Brazilian. Oh… This is police harassment. Obstructing Rodrigo.

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

CONAN: Look, I didn’t kill anyone. And I’ve got the absolute right to act however I choose. That’s freedom of speech.

(They enter an interview room.)

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

CONAN: Oh, yes. I led a legitimate protest against Lady Hugh, therefore I must have murdered her.

LEWIS: No, we know who murdered her. Feardorcha Phelan.

CONAN: Feardorcha? Is he back in Oxford?

LEWIS: Has he been in contact with you?

CONAN: No, he’s not made contact with me.

LEWIS: 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.

CONAN: Ooh. Maybe he’s got an invisibility cloak.

LEWIS: Or a very good accomplice. How do you know Will?

CONAN: Clumsy one night stand at freshers’ week, which turned into a lifelong friendship. I wasn’t madly, psychotically in love with him if that’s what you’re asking.

LEWIS: The journalist, Charlie Newton, and you. Both ushers at Will’s funeral.

CONAN: He’s my best friend. We’re the odd couple.

LEWIS: And he hates the Reverend King, and the organisers of organised religion, as he put it, which includes Dr Melville and Lady Hugh.

CONAN: 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.

LEWIS: You do have a cause, though, don’t you? I’d say that’s pretty much the same thing.

(In the station corridor)

LEWIS: Found anything on Feardorcha Phelan?

HATHAWAY: Well, I finally heard back from the police in Brazil. Bit of a problem with the translating, but basically, the trail goes cold there. He flies in three years ago and never leaves, or he leaves on a different passport.

LEWIS: How likely is that, an identity change?

HATHAWAY: 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.

LEWIS: He must be back in the country. But then he’s living under an assumed name.

(They go outside)

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

HATHAWAY: It’s not relevant to the case. He came out to me that summer when we were fourteen. 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.

LEWIS: So what did you do?

HATHAWAY: I laughed at him. Might as well have shot him in the face, he hated me for that. I don’t blame him.

(They get in the car)

LEWIS: Are you… no.

HATHAWAY: No, go on, ask.

LEWIS: No, it’s… doesn’t matter.

HATHAWAY: You’ve been dying to ask.

LEWIS: No, it’s none of my business.

HATHAWAY: Yeah, but you really wanna know.

LEWIS: Well, okay.


LEWIS: Are you?


LEWIS: Are you gay?

HATHAWAY: What does that mean?

LEWIS: You know what that means.

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

LEWIS: No, no.

HATHAWAY: Have you got some finer definition, then, sir?

LEWIS: Loaded and Yorkie bars? How stupid do you think I am, man? I just… Ah, it’s none of my business. You’re right. What do I know?

(In the city centre)

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. Er, one at a time, please.

NEWTON: Charlie Newton, Oxford Herald. How much do you think these killings have been motivated by the suicide of Will McEwan?

(By the Radcliffe Camera)

LEWIS: Mr Newton.

NEWTON: (into his phone) Hang on, I’ll call you back.

LEWIS: What do you know that you’re not telling us?

(Newton takes a notebook out of his bag.)

NEWTON: I got sent this today. It’s from Will. He wants me to expose The Garden, blow the lid off their lives. 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. Ah, I did make sense of this bit, though.

(The book contains writing saying ‘On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary, I lost my way.’)

NEWTON: The Garden based their methods on the Stations of the Cross, a bit like the twelve-step programme. And the final stage is resurrection. Your problem solved. But in order to get there…

LEWIS: You have to go through Calvary.

NEWTON: Yes. The Crucifixion. The hardest part. Will lost his way before then.

LEWIS: So, why did Will go to them?

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

HATHAWAY: Sir, Zoë Kenneth wants to meet us.

(In the Botanic Gardens)

ZOË: I didn’t realise you were linking those murders to Will’s death.

LEWIS: Well, it’s one avenue we’re exploring. Erm, I know you were very close to Will. I mean, more than just friends.

ZOË: Very private.

LEWIS: Yeah, I understand that, but if you could –

HATHAWAY: Sir, maybe it’s not relevant.

ZOË: No. No, it’s fine.

LEWIS: This Feardorcha Phelan could be a suspect. I mean, if he thinks The Garden was responsible for Will’s death.

ZOË: 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.

LEWIS: And you think Feardorcha’s dead?

ZOË: 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.

(At the Gay Pride march)

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.

(Inside a bar)

NOVA ROSE: Bertie! You look like a fish out of water.

LEWIS: Yeah, I feel like one.

NOVA ROSE: Don’t you just love it, though? I was supposed to be in court, but my partner insisted, on pain of death.

LEWIS: She here?


NEWTON: Inspector, Sergeant, hello.

LEWIS: 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.

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

LEWIS: This is us dressing-down.

HATHAWAY: We’re not very good at it.

ZOË: What do you make of our Screaming Spires?

LEWIS: Interesting.

CONAN: Can I have everyone’s attention?

HATHAWAY: Is there any point hanging around, sir?

LEWIS: Yeah, just… wait, I want to hear what this bloke’s got to say.

CONAN: Well. It nearly didn’t happen. 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.

WILL: (on the television) 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’ counselling. 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 – 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.

(In the bar corridor)

LEWIS: The friend Will went to, was that you? You knew what The Garden did. You knew why Will killed himself all the time.

(Hathaway’s phone rings)

HATHAWAY: (into the phone) Feardorcha?

(Lewis notices a note stuck to Hathaway’s back saying ‘Life born of fire’.)

LEWIS: Hathaway. ‘Life born of fire’.


LEWIS: All along, you knew.

HATHAWAY: It wasn’t like that.

LEWIS: What do you mean, it wasn’t – what was it, if it wasn’t like that?

HATHAWAY: It wasn’t planned, I –

LEWIS: You lied to me!

HATHAWAY: I didn’t –

LEWIS: How old are you? You lied.


LEWIS: 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?


LEWIS: Didn’t you?


LEWIS: The times I gave you the chance. I asked you the question. You could have said.

HATHAWAY: You’ve no idea what this had been like for me. You don’t understand –

LEWIS: Why’s that, then, do you think? With your lies and your cover-ups –

HATHAWAY: You’re not listening to me! I never meant to hurt Will.

LEWIS: Hurt him? How?

HATHAWAY: Well, we were kids, you know? Kids are stupid. You can forgive kids. But adults? You ever been so sure that you were right, and then you look back and you can’t believe what you thought?

LEWIS: Well, tell me.

HATHAWAY: 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 they say. It’s so easy, like breathing. You just believe it. And I believed that being gay was wrong.

LEWIS: Oh, and Will came to you for advice.

HATHAWAY: 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’.

LEWIS: So Will went back to The Garden.

HATHAWAY: 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.

LEWIS: And that’s why you gave up the priesthood. You always understood his suicide note.

HATHAWAY: Yeah, but I had to see the case through. The Garden, I denied it –

LEWIS: You could have told me.

HATHAWAY: I wanted to –

LEWIS: ‘Life born of fire’. What does it mean?

HATHAWAY: I don’t know, I promise.

LEWIS: Well I’m sorry, Sergeant, but I don’t find it that easy to believe you anymore.


LEWIS: You lied to me. Forget Will. Forget the case. You lied to me. To me!


LEWIS: No! Just – no, go away, I don’t want to see you.

(In Lewis’ office, he ponders over his notes.)

(Outside Hathaway’s house)


ZOË: Bad day?

HATHAWAY: Like you wouldn’t believe.

ZOË: You know the problem with living on your own.

HATHAWAY: What’s that?

ZOË: You’re on your own. Come back to mine. I don’t want to be on my own. Not tonight. Come on.

(In Lewis’ office)

INNOCENT: Knock, knock.

LEWIS: Ma’am, come in.

INNOCENT: Just checking on your progress today.

LEWIS: Well, no sightings on Feardorcha Phelan, but some activity. He seems to have set his sights on Sergeant Hathaway.

INNOCENT: Good God, why?

LEWIS: Because of his friendship with Will? Anyway, I’ve got a protection team keeping tabs on Hathaway. So, if Feardorcha makes a move…

INNOCENT: Well, maybe he’ll show his face tonight. Lewis, you and Hathaway, have you fallen out?

LEWIS: It’s fine. But thanks, ma’am.

INNOCENT: So, what’s your lead now?

(Lewis holds up the ‘Life born of fire’ note.)

LEWIS: Well, Feardorcha’s prints are on this, too. So, either he’s the killer, or he’s being set up. If it’s the latter, it has to be somebody we’ve already met.

INNOCENT: How can you be certain?

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

INNOCENT: But what?

LEWIS: I’ve drawn a blank. I don’t know.

INNOCENT: I haven’t told you this, but you remind me of my inspector when I was a sergeant. I felt like half the time, I was just there for him to bounce ideas off. And mostly, that was enough.

LEWIS: If you’re sure you’ve got the time.

INNOCENT: Well, my busy, exciting social life…

(At Zoë’s house)

ZOË: Drink?

HATHAWAY: Yeah, why not? I don’t think I’ve ever drunk so much in my life. Trying to make myself cry. So what’s wrong with me?

ZOË: There’s nothing wrong with you.

HATHAWAY: There is.

ZOË: There’s nothing wrong with you.

(They kiss.)

ZOË: There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with you.

(In Lewis’ office)

INNOCENT: 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.

LEWIS: That’s it, ma’am.

INNOCENT: 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? ‘Significance of names?’

LEWIS: Well, this killer is 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.

INNOCENT: I know this great site. My sister’s having a baby, lucky her.

(She brings up a baby names website.)

INNOCENT: Now, if we put in, let’s say, Robert, it means…

LEWIS: ‘Bright fame’. I know. Try the names of some of the other suspects. If that’s alright with you, ma’am.

(His mobile rings.)

LEWIS: (into the phone) Yeah? Lewis. What? When? (to Innocent) Uniform have lost Hathaway, somewhere in Jericho.

(At Zoë’s house)

ZOË: I really like you, James. You’re trembling.

HATHAWAY: It’s been a while.

ZOË: It doesn’t matter. If you’re not ready, then that’s fine.

(They kiss.)

(In Zoë’s bedroom)

ZOË: Mm, hold on. Music. Especially for you. I need to get the iPod. Don’t go anywhere.

(In Lewis’ office)

INNOCENT: Charlie. ‘Charles, meaning man, army, or warrior.’ Any use?

LEWIS: No. Try Henry.

INNOCENT: From ‘heimric’, meaning ‘home ruler’.

LEWIS: How about Conan?

INNOCENT: ‘Little wolf or hound’.

LEWIS: Is there any way of doing it the other way round? Putting in the meaning first?

INNOCENT: Yeah, hang on. Okay, go on.

LEWIS: Put in ‘life born of fire’.

(At Zoë’s house, someone douses the living room in petrol and lights it on fire.)

(In Lewis’ office)

INNOCENT: I’m going to have to break it up. Let me put ‘life’ in separately.

LEWIS: Hold on. Zoë means ‘life’. Try Kenneth.

INNOCENT: From the Gaelic ‘Cinead’, and Cinead means… ‘born of fire’.

LEWIS: Zoë Kenneth. ‘Life born of fire’.

(In Zoë’s house, she finishes lighting the fire and goes back up to her bedroom.)

HATHAWAY: I think I’m a bit drunk.

ZOË: It’s just a sedative, don’t worry. I didn’t want the flames to hurt you. Despite it all, I like you. In fact, I always did.


ZOË: 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.


ZOË: Because I loved Will and they destroyed him.

HATHAWAY: Will wouldn’t have wanted you to –

ZOË: 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.

(Downstairs, Hathaway’s phone rings.)

ZOË: 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.

HATHAWAY: Feardorcha DNA, how…

ZOË: 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.

(In Lewis’ office, he is searching for Zoë’s address.)

LEWIS: Should be in here somewhere. Yeah, I knew it. Zoë Kenneth, 31 Stalton Street, Jericho.

INNOCENT: (into the phone) 31 Stalton Street, Jericho, now.

(In Zoë’s bedroom)

ZOË: 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.

HATHAWAY: Your face…

ZOË: 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.

(She starts playing the Firebird Suite on the iPod.)

ZOË: That’s better.

HATHAWAY: The Firebird Suite.

(Zoë lies down with him.)

ZOË: 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.

(The police, including Lewis, pull up outside Zoë’s house.)

LEWIS: Number thirty-one! Break it down!

(In the bedroom)

ZOË: Life born of fire, James. You and me. The firebirds.

(Lewis and the police break into the bedroom.)

ZOË: No! No!

LEWIS: Get her off!

ZOË: No, no!

(The police officers lift up Zoë.)

LEWIS: James?

(Lewis picks Hathaway up. They all get out of the burning house.)

LEWIS: Get her in a car! We’re gonna need an ambulance for this one.

(There is an explosion in the house, knocking everyone over. Zoë gets up and goes towards the house. Lewis and Hathaway both get up and follow her. Lewis holds Hathaway back.)


HATHAWAY: Zoë! Zoë, come back!

(Zoë walks into the flames.)

HATHAWAY: Get off me! Zoë! No! Get off me!

(There is another explosion.)

(In the hospital, Hathaway wakes up in a hospital bed.)


LEWIS: Hello, Sergeant.

HATHAWAY: How long have I been, erm…

LEWIS: Quite I while. You were drugged.


LEWIS: She didn’t… I’m sorry.

HATHAWAY: You saved me.

LEWIS: Don’t be so melodramatic. So, how are you feeling?

HATHAWAY: Hungover.

LEWIS: Well, I just wanted to make sure you… you know.

HATHAWAY: Thank you, sir.

(In the allotments)

LEWIS: Here. I’m giving up the allotment.

MR COOPER: Why’s that, then?

LEWIS: Too relaxing. I’ll save all that for my retirement.

MR COOPER: Is that going to happen any time soon?

LEWIS: Not for a little while.

MR COOPER: Mr Lewis…

LEWIS: Mr Cooper.

MR COOPER: Your work problem, that all sorted out?

LEWIS: It is, yeah. Why do you ask?

MR COOPER: 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. Goodbye, Mr Lewis.

(By the Radcliffe Camera, Hathaway pretends to read Loaded and gives Lewis a Yorkie bar.)

HATHAWAY: Shh. Six o’clock.

(The bells toll and they begin to walk away.)