Luther

Are we done?

Bar what I suspect will be a lengthy debriefing.

- But tomorrow, yeah? - Tomorrow.

You all right?

I think he's pushed some bone into my brain.

Excellent.

Victim's Emily Hammond. Edits technical manuals.

Divorced. No kids.

Comes home round 11. No sign of forced entry,

so it looks like she might have known her killer. Let him in.

Comes home from where?

Speed-dating.

What, she's brought him home and...? That doesn't sound right, does it?

No?

Women don't go speed-dating for sex, they go for a relationship.

But check them all out. Um, ex-husband?

Lives in Bristol.

- On it? - Being done as we speak.

There's nothing to suggest she was into S&M.

No fetish gear in the wardrobe, nothing on her browsing history.

No, no. Our boy's brought this stuff with him.

You reckon?

Mmm, look, it's a very specific look. The wig, the make-up.

It's a bit of a Siouxsie And The Banshees thing going on here.

Who and the what? '80s. Post-punk.

Oh. Goths.

Post-punk.

Oh, it's definitely not her wig.

Dirty old thing.

She's not wearing shoes.

You can see the strap marks.

She was wearing the shoes when she was strangled.

So where are the shoes?

I've seen something like this before.

Yeah, where?

Photograph. Something.

So he's what? Re-enacting an old murder?

Maybe he's a fan.

Paying homage.

Back door was point of exit. Front door was deadbolted.

Right, well...

Check that back door again.

Chances are it's probably the way he let himself in.

DCI Luther?

Do you have a moment?

How was it?

Fetish killing.

Whatever he's doing,

it looks like he's been planning it for a long time.

So now that he's started...

Be hard for him to stop, even if he wanted to.

I, um...

I've been ordered to move you to another case.

What other case?

Jared Cass.

Sickness beneficiary, "cyber activist", whatever that might be.

Found dead in his flat this morning.

This was filmed on Cass's smartphone,

distributed to his contacts list.

- 'I'm sorry!' - This was how it ended.

What a day. OK. But why us?

Not us.

You. Me?

- Personally? Why? - Murder's murder, John.

No. Come on, boss. You see, this is a revenge killing.

Meat and potatoes.

The man who killed Emily Hammond is organised, but not sane.

He's going to kill again, and very soon.

It's out of my hands.

You know this smells funny. Right?

Can you handle both?

I can handle both.

Don't make me regret it.

What's that?

I've got another thing.

You're kidding. What other thing?

Animal cruelty. Listen, I need you to brief Benny.

Tell him to go over cold cases.

Anything pertaining to Emily's death.

I'm talking strangulation, burglary, shoe theft...

- Masks and wigs? - Yeah, don't rule out anything.

You know what? The mask, the wigs...

I think it's part of something else, you know,

trying to recreate something.

Staging something. It's not part of the fetish.

Right, how far back are we looking?

1979 or something. Oi, meet me at the Jared Cass crime scene

on Hawksmoor estate.

Hello?

Why? What's it about?

Do I have any choice?

I'll be there.

Detective Sergeant Ripley.

Detective Chief Inspector Gray.

Just "Ma'am" will do.

How's life in the Judas Division, Ma'am?

Rooting out dirty coppers? Satisfying.

The way you stitched me up to save your boss, I owe you a favour.

You've given me a vocation.

So what am I doing here? Are you going to waterboard me?

Get in.

DS Ripley?

George Stark.

Out of what division?

Retired.

They un-retired me.

For a special project.

Come with me.

Oh, come on, you've got to be kidding me.

Have a seat.

Zoe Luther, dead.

Ian Reed, dead.

Henry Madsen, dead.

Toby Kent, dead.

Alice Morgan. Missing, presumed... Well, who knows?

Common denominator?

So?

There was a Park Ranger.

In America, that is.

He was struck seven times by lightning. Seven times!

Actually made the Guinness Book Of Records

for being the unluckiest guy in the world.

Or maybe the luckiest guy in the world.

Depends on how you look at it.

And?

Do you really think he's innocent, your boss?

Of this murder?

Of this?

Of this one?

Think he's just some kind of lighting rod?

Someone who just gets struck again

and again, and again, and again?

Carpet underlay, from one of the holes

that your boss used to live in.

It's got this man's blood on it. Toby Kent.

Never heard of him.

Our witness says that Luther killed him.

Put a knife through the back of the skull.

That place was disgusting. You could find anything on that carpet.

Are you homosexual?

Like that's any of your business.

It is my business if your romantic yearnings are clouding

your judgment as a police officer.

If you're trying to touch a nerve,

then you're touching me in the wrong place.

Then you're either a donkey, or you're an accomplice.

And I don't think you're a donkey.

I won't answer any more questions without my union rep.

Well, then, your career ends here.

Because you'll be charged as an accessory after the fact.

What fact? If you had any proof of wrongdoings, then you'd show it.

- What, I'd show you my hand? - Yeah.

Yeah, right, fine.

You think I don't know a liar when I see one, son?

You're lying to me. Now, talk to me!

Tell me!

It's not very nice, is it?

Somebody who's supposed to be representing the law,

and yet operates in his own sense of justice?

Just read it.

- Benny, what you got? - Do you remember the Shoreditch Creeper?

Er, yeah. Dim, distant memory. Go on.

OK, '78 to '81. He assaults eight women in an escalating pattern.

Breaks in, ties them up.

Masturbates while sucking their toes. Then steals their shoes.

Graduates to killing three times.

Theresa Johnson in '81, and Vivian Leavie. Plus Cheryl Moody, in '82.

Then he just stops. Drops off the grid.

Not of his own accord, he doesn't. Not if he's escalating like that.

- How old is he? - Mid-thirties when the offending began.

Well, that puts him in his... seventies now?

Doesn't sound right, does it? Benny, do me a favour.

Sign off on the cold cases, and have them sent to me.

Right. On their way...

Sir?

Come on. Come on.

Are you all right?

Think so. Er, yeah.

- Oh, whoa, whoa. - Sorry.

You need to sit down. Just for a second.

You just need to sit down there.

- You all right? - Yeah.

Oh, your poor car.

No, don't worry about that. It always looks like that.

Is it, like, a classic?

Yeah, probably.

Do you mind if I just take a look?

Er, just look left.

Right.

Up. Down.

Any dizziness? Did you bang your head, did you?

No, no. Are you a doctor?

No, I'm a copper. DCI Luther.

Luther? That's a good name.

I can't take the credit for it.

It's an unusual name.

Not in MY house.

Look, don't worry about any of this.

Um, it really was my fault.

I'm not totally sure it was. I was...