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turning to page one
turning to page one
Detective Nock enters to find the same messy crime scene we just saw. He’s addressed by SERGEANT STAEHL.
SGT. STAEHL
Bit late, don’t you think?
DETECTIVE NOCK
The baby. Up all night, hollering
and crying. June says it’s collick.
(re: the mess)
What’s all this, then?
SGT. STAEHL
Turing, Alan. Professor at King’s.
Seems there’s been a robbery.
DETECTIVE NOCK
What of?
SGT. STAEHL
That’s just it. Nothing’s missing,
really.
DETECTIVE NOCK
No, what’s he a professor of?
SGT. STAEHL
(consulting notes)
Maths. Or, as he put it, “ordinal
logic, with a dose of number
theory.”
ON NOCK: What on earth does that mean?
Staehl shrugs.
DETECTIVE NOCK
What’s he doing in Manchester?
Sergeant Staehl shows Nock the MACHINE in the corner.
ON NOCK: What the hell is that?
SGT. STAEHL
Something with machines. Project at
the NPL, I checked, but he won’t
say what it’s on.
DETECTIVE NOCK
He’s a bit squirrely then, our
Professor Turing?
SGT. STAEHL
That’s putting it mildly.
Sergeant Staehl motions to the next room, and he follows Nock in...
... Where they find ALAN TURING, 38. He’s the smartest man in the room, and he knows it. But he doesn’t really care if you do.
Turing is VERY CAREFULLY sweeping up a pile of WHITE POWDER.
He’s doing it with a PAINTBRUSH, his mouth covered in a scarf.
He’s totally oblivious to the detectives as they enter.
DETECTIVE NOCK
Professor Turing?
(beat)
Professor Turing? My name is
Detective Nock. Manchester Police.
Sergeant Staehl here tells me
you’ve had a robbery last night.
(still nothing)
Professor Turing?
Detective Nock steps closer, peering over Turing’s shoulder at the white powder.
DETECTIVE NOCK (CONT’D)
Professor —
ALAN TURING
— I would step back, if I were you.
DETECTIVE NOCK
Pardon me?
ALAN TURING
Step back, and don’t breathe so
much.
DETECTIVE NOCK
Breathe?
ALAN TURING
You’re breathing heavily and you’re
going to inhale this junk and
you’re going to leave your collicky
son without a father.
Detective Nock stops, and steps back. What in the world?
ALAN TURING (CONT’D)
Sound carries in this house.
DETECTIVE NOCK
What is all that?
ALAN TURING
Cyanide. Undiluted. Wouldn’t take
more than a thimbleful to kill you.
Turing finishes sweeping the cyanide into a jar, before safely CAPPING IT.
Turing stands, removes his scarf, and for the first time takes a look at Detective Nock. Sizes him up.
ALAN TURING (CONT’D)
Oh. Disappointing.
Detective Knock and Sergeant Staehl exchange a look.
DETECTIVE NOCK
Pardon?
ALAN TURING
I’d hoped for a bit more.
DETECTIVE NOCK
Sergeant Staehl, is it just me, or
do you get the sense that we’re
being insulted?
ALAN TURING
(to Nock)
You lied to your friend here about
your son, which is just unseemly.
Collick didn’t keep you up all
night. Drink did. You’ve bags under
your eyes the size of strawberries.
Your topcoat reeks of whiskey.
You’re short of breath after
walking 30 paces. And I believe
Manchester United had a match
yesterday, yes? I could hear the
shouting from Simpson’s on my way
home.
DETECTIVE NOCK
(caught)
... We won by four. Would’ve been
unseemly not to celebrate.
Sergeant Staehl SIGHS, embarrassed.
SGT. STAEHL
You had a break in last night. Your
neighbor, a Mr. Springborn, called
to report the noise. Only you say
there’s nothing missing. Odd. So
how about it — You tell us what
happened, and we find the chap who
did this.
ALAN TURING
Gentlemen, I don’t think you could
figure out who broke into my house
if he walked up and spat in your
face. What I could really use at
the moment is not a bobby but a
good cleaning lady. So unless one
of you has an apron in your car,
I’d suggest that you file your
reports and leave me alone.
Staehl is about to say something — and probably something aggressive, by the look of his face — but Nock stops him.
DETECTIVE NOCK
... As you say, Professor Turing.
Best of luck with your cyanide.