Inspector Lewis

Thank you, Susan. I'll take it out to her.

Hi, everyone. Thanks for coming here to Roak Woods.

- Hi, Liv. - Morning.

It's a simple job today. We're looking to dig up this little beggar.

Rhododendron ponticum. Highly invasive. We need to eradicate it at the roots.

So we may have lots of hard digging to do, I'm afraid.

But it'll all be worth it in the end. So, thanks, everyone. Let's go.

Mr Atkins.

Vincent, Vincent.

Liv!

Male, adult. Must have been in there a couple of weeks.

First inspection reveals blow to the front right side of the skull above the temple.

Probable cause of death. All pretty straightforward, really.

It's my day off. I had plans. I was trying to have a life.

Instead of which, as usual, I'm up to my knees in body parts.

Sorry. I don't think there'll be any surprises in the postmortem.

But the grave's pretty interesting.

Body was wrapped in a fine cloth, very fine. And this was laid on the chest.

He was buried with some ceremony, then.

And care.

There's an inscription on the back.

Nulli secundus.

Second to none. Who found him?

Liv Nash. She's a botanist, based at the Botanic Gardens.

And what brought her all the way out here?

They were doing some conservation work.

Are you Liv Nash?

I'm Detective Sergeant Hathaway.

I'm sorry.

I keep thinking that I must have hurt him, while I was digging.

Isn't that mad?

I know I couldn't possibly have hurt him. He's dead.

I'm sorry.

Look, it's a very traumatic thing to find a body.

I've got a... a number here if you need to talk to someone.

Thanks.

Thanks. I will... I will call them.

You don't have a tissue, do you? I'm covered in snot.

Standard issue.

You must see stuff like this all the time.

Yes.

So who do you call?

Good question.

The dead man found in Roak Woods was a Professor Murray Hawes.

Reported missing a couple of weeks ago. And one other thing.

He was ritually buried. Shroud, cross of twigs on the body.

We're waiting for the postmortem. Next of kin been notified?

Yeah, his brother, Reverend Dr Conor Hawes.

He's the chaplain at Carlyle College.

Chaplain? Must know a thing or two about burials and rituals.

Just a thought.

Dr Hawes? I'm sorry to disturb you.

DI Lewis, DS Hathaway.

I'm afraid we have something for you.

My father gave him this watch.

When my brother first came up to Oxford.

He was only 15, you see, and something of a prodigy.

Thank you.

Can you think of anybody who might have wanted to hurt your brother?

Was he in dispute with anyone? No, not to my knowledge.

But I... I hadn't seen him for some time.

When did you last see your brother, Dr Hawes?

I don't know. Um...

Six months? A year?

We kept away from each other.

Your brother was found with a cross made of twigs laid on his chest.

What do you make of that, as a man of the cloth?

That the killer had a conscience.

All right, thank you, Dr Hawes.

If you do think of anything significant, will you ring us at the station?

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

As expected, no surprises.

Cause of death, blow to the head.

There's some bruising and abrasions to the face, which suggests a struggle.

Blood tox? Nothing fatal.

But not a happy picture.

Caffeine, nicotine, alcohol, amphetamines.

Cigarettes and coffee for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

He didn't do things by halves. There speaks the voice of experience.

Whatever gets you through.

Not a happy man.

It's quite spartan for a professor. Mm.

Fallen on hard times?

Mr Murray Hawes?

I take it that's not from Amazon.

'Gracey Books. Lot 92.

The Hunting Of The Snark: An Agony In Eight Fits.

Original working manuscript annotated by Lewis Carroll.

Dated January 1876.'

Annotated by Lewis Carroll. I studied this. This is incredible.

You studied it? I thought it was a poem.

It's a profoundly theological piece of work.

It's theological and philosophical.

It's a 10-man crew in search of a Snark.

And what's a Snark?

That's precisely the question. Nobody knows.

Nobody knows what they're looking for. Sounds familiar.

Nobody knows what they're looking for, the danger is in finding it.

For when they do, they will "softly and suddenly vanish away".

It's about the search for meaning, being and nothingness,

the unanswerable questions of existence.

It's... It's the impossible quest.

He's got 10 copies of it here.

He had quite an obsession.

'The Hunting Of The Snark is a poem

over which a sensitive soul might well go mad.'

A map.

The Oxford Botanic Gardens.

This place was a favourite haunt of Lewis Carroll's.

He used to come here for picnics.

Stupid sodding... Oh!

We're looking for the head of the gardens.

Professor Wright? I think she's in the lodge.

Thanks.

So how are you? How are you feeling? Much better, thanks.

I called that number you gave me. It really helped.

I'm glad.

So what are you doing here?

Well, by a curious coincidence, our man in the woods used to come here.

Murray?!

He was nice. Eccentric.

He forgot his shoes here once, came back for them the next day.

So he was our man in the woods.

How did he end up all the way out there?

Professor Wright? DI Lewis.

Yes.

We're investigating the murder of this man, Murray Hawes.

I believe he has a connection with the garden.

Yes, he used to come here often. He was a Lewis Carroll fan, wasn't he?

We get it all the time. It's a place of pilgrimage for them.

Did you know him to talk to?

Inspector, I'm the director of the gardens.

We have 7,000 plants here.

We are one of the pre-eminent botanical research centres in the world.

I spend my life chasing funding, worrying over visitor numbers.

I have neither the time nor the inclination to talk to crackpots.

What about the police? Do you have the time or inclination to talk to us?

Yes. Yes, of course. I'm sorry.

It's... It's a difficult time at the moment.

I'm... I'm not sleeping very well.

Why's that?

It's personal.

So did you know Murray well? You spoke to him?

Oh, yeah. He liked to talk. He used to monologue a bit.

What about?

He was trying to solve something. I don't know. A calculation.

He was always taking measurements and pacing distances out.

There was someone he wanted to beat.

That's right. He was always talking about winning.

My triumph, my victory, stuff like that.

Did he mention anyone in particular?

Thing is, to be perfectly honest, I used to zone out a bit.

But he had an axe to grind, that's for sure.

What are you planting here? 'Plants and their Uses.'

It's Helena's thing. Botanical history.

Textiles, dyes, medicines.

This is our Doctrine of Signatures flower bed.

The Doctrine of Signatures was...

Great herbalist con of the 17th century.

You know about the Doctrine of Signatures?

No-one knows about the Doctrine of Signatures.

God has signed his intention in the look of things that man may know their purpose.

Healing properties of plants,

most of which have no healing properties whatsoever.

Signatura Rerum.

And he speaks Latin.

I should...

Yes. See you, then.

See you.

Hope you remembered to ask her some questions.

Yes, sir, I did. Thank you. In fact, she was very helpful.

Murray Hawes, it would seem, had a rival.

Mr Gracey?

Bloody mice.

Chewing my books to buggery.

I'll have to put something down.

Oxford Police.

Oh, yes. The Snark.

Well, it was a bidding war, but there were four parties.

An American university, Murray Hawes, a Swiss bank and one was anonymous.

We need an itemised billing for Gracey's Books...

What clinched it for Murray Hawes was that he paid in cash.

The seller was looking to make a quick sale.

He paid cash? How much?

200,000.

When was this? Do you know the date of the sale?

He paid on the ninth at close of business, six o'clock.

And he was supposed to come again in the morning at nine

to take possession of the manuscript.

We had to get it out of secure store overnight.

But he never showed up. So, in the end, we sent it high security.

How did he seem that evening?

He was ebullient, overjoyed, triumphant.

He was going to solve the riddle, wasn't he?

The riddle?

The riddle of the Snark.

Carroll was a great one for acrostics, poems that are also riddles.

There are those who believe

that there's a code to be cracked in the Snark,

a puzzle to be solved.