Original subtitles

I really miss you.

I think we need a break.

I think I need a break.

They were private.

And a man is dead.

You and me are done.

I have some information about the Jack Wright

case.

You want to know if my ex-husband

was a child abuser?

Hello, Rupert.

So, where were you really that night?

Elkhorn.

So, when did you last see him?

Two days before night.

In August, Jack had a DNA test done

of Josh.

Where's my dad?

How do you think he found out?

I have no idea.

I don't remember telling anyone.

Someone knew.

You know what?

I actually wasn't nervous.

Maybe I thought I had nothing more to

lose.

I mean, obviously I was wrong there, but

yeah.

Moral of the story?

Trust no one.

Not some, no chance.

Dormero, dormero, dormero Dormez

How much do any of us understand why

we do the things we do?

Why did we love this person, lie to

that friend?

Why did we betray this partner?

Our interior lives are almost impossibly complex, and

at best, our understanding of our actions is

ephemeral, fragmentary, and subjective.

And if it's hard for us to understand

ourselves, it's doubly hard for others to understand

us.

But hardest of all?

To understand the thoughts of a dead man.

The thoughts of Jack Wright.

A husband and father has a legal obligation

in his will to make due provision for

both his wife and dependent children, so let's

not get sidetracked by ethics and morals.

The more simple truth is that Jack Wright

failed to fulfil his legal duty.

Graham, his firstborn child, a devoted son, who

saw his father's love and respect all of

his life, even in the face of repeated

rejection.

We can't question him, we can't challenge him,

we can't tell him things we hope will

change the way he feels, and again, that's

hard.

To never be able to understand why he

made the choices he did, but that does

not mean the choices he made were wrong.

25 years of service John Wright gave his

father, on trust, with love, and from a

place of huge respect, only to be repaid

with contempt, with mockery, with financial disadvantage, and

that is simply unfair.

Every decision he made was the product of

a careful, considered and rational process.

Our opinion on that cannot change simply because

we don't like what he thought, what he

wrote, and in the end, who he was.

So the evidence found at McGuire's house has

all been examined, we've not enough to charge

him with yet, so he's RUI'd for now.

But alongside the messages between him and Emily,

we do have to ask why he would

have tried to create a false alibi for

the night of the murder.

Meanwhile, this guy doesn't seem at all keen

on answering our telephone calls, so we still

have absolutely no idea where he was on

the 12th.

So, he is with Europol.

Now I want a search done on his

Paris office.

Graham Wright, we still waiting on his bank

statements?

Yes, but I also put a flag on

PNC and got a ping back immediately.

For?

So he was admitted to the Royal London

a month ago after he was violently assaulted

in his flat.

Wow, OK.

The uniformed officer spoke to his brother at

the hospital who indicated that the assault was

related to a debt now paid and that

they didn't want to take things further.

OK, we'll just chase these bank statements, all

right?

He's clearly in all sorts of financial difficulties.

And then Georgia Wright, just got the speeding

ticket photo back from records, which reveals there

was someone sitting next to her as her

car drove at speed near Marston Hall about

20 minutes before we know that final call

between Sally and Jack ended.

That person is Mary Robbins, Jack Wright's housekeeper.

I founded it four years ago.

And as of today, how much is it

valued at?

We had an offer of investment just a

few weeks ago that valued it at $4

million.

You're 24?

25 in a month.

I've never made a secret of it.

I've suffered from addiction problems my whole life.

And when did these start?

Oh, I remember the actual day.

How old were you?

13.

And this was where?

It was at my dad's.

It was just after my parents had separated

and I was with him for the weekend.

Except he was in his bedroom with his

new girlfriend and so I was having dinner

with the groundsman and Ray, his son.

And it was Ray who offered me a

joint later that night.

And you said you remember the day specifically.

Why?

Oh, because it was Christmas Day.

And I know you normally speak to my

wife, but, yeah, we're thinking about a few...

..life changes.

So I just wanted a bit of a

snapshot valuation of our portfolio, please.

How long were you married, Mrs Wright?

17 years.

And those were 17 happy years?

Very.

And how did you celebrate that last anniversary?

We didn't.

You didn't celebrate at all?

No.

Why was that?

Because he forgot.

He forgot?

And, of course, in normal circumstances, I might

have mentioned it or reminded him, but we'd

always play this kind of game over the

years where he'd pretend to have forgotten and

then at some point during the day itself

he'd surprise me with some...

..amazing celebration.

Such as?

Oh, for our 14th, he flew me to

Mustique for a week.

For our 10th, we had 100 guests at

the Savoy.

For our 8th, Duran Duran played in our

house.

But this year...

This year, nothing.

And as we approached midnight, I realised that

it wasn't the game.

This time he'd genuinely forgotten.

He had no recollection of it at all.

On that particular day...

..his mind had gone.

And this from a man who we now

sadly know from the autopsy had early signs

of dementia.

How many people do you employ, Ms Wright?

Well, we're in the process of expanding after

this next funding round.

But right now, in full-time employment?

Seven.

Do you know how many people are currently

on the JK Wright payroll?

I don't have that figure in front of

me.

Oh, it's, um...

It's 368.

As of last Friday.

Right.

Are you familiar with the term NEPO, baby?

Yes.

Could you tell the court, please, what qualities

you think you possess that would qualify you

to run a company with a market cap

more than 30 times yours?

Aside from your 12 months in the post

room, of course.

I'm sorry, I'm confused.

This says £7,426.

Yes.

But...

..between us, we should have about four million.

About two in mine and the same in

hers.

And as I say, I can't tell you

what's in your wife's.

I can only give you your figure, which

is what's left after all your withdrawals.

What withdrawals?

The multiple withdrawals you've made over the last

five years, Mr Wright.

I haven't made any withdrawals.

Mr Wright, has it ever occurred to you

that your father's will was in many ways

an act of kindness?

A painful act, but of the toughest love.

My father didn't know what love was, tough

or otherwise.

But he knew what an addict was, though,

didn't he?

Well, it was him who made me one,

so, yeah, I should hope so.

You say he was an inattentive father.

Can you tell me how much money he

gave you in the last ten years?

No idea.

Milady, Exhibit 8A will show bank statements detailing

transfers totalling £326,000 in just those ten

years.

I'd have preferred a hug.

Mr Wright, would you tell the court what

happened to the £500 he gave you to

buy your daughter a 10th birthday present?

You signed a prenup, Mrs Wright, is that

correct?

Yes.

You are being handed now Exhibit 12A, which

is a copy of that original signed agreement.

If you could go to the back page,

please.

Do you recognise yours and your husband's signature

there?

Yes.

And are you happy to confirm this is

a copy of that agreement signed in 2007?

Yes.

Can I ask you, then, to turn to

page 5?

And can I ask you, please, to read

paragraph 7, clause B?

In the event of the wife's proven infidelity,

that behaviour shall be treated as conduct that

it is inequitable to disregard pursuant to Section

252G of the Matrimonial Causes Act 1973 and

the Inheritance Act 1975, and shall have the

effect of limiting, to the greatest possible extent,

all claims for financial remedies howsoever arising under

the Matrimonial Causes Act 1973.

Did you break that clause, Mrs Wright?

No.

I remind you, you are under oath and

I am going to ask you again.

Did you break that clause?

He broke it repeatedly.

This isn't about him?

This is entirely about him.

Did you?

He handed me that prenup on the morning

of the wedding.

Answer the question, please.

And said if I didn't sign it, he'd

call it off, and so I did.

Because I loved him.

Mrs Wright, I suggest that you did break

it.

Objection, milady.

Overruled.

And that, furthermore, on a night out in

2020, you confided in Emily Wright that you

suspected your son Joshua might not be Jack's.

Whatever I told you that night, I would

have told you with total confidence.

I took you into our family, tried to

be a mother to you and you do

this.

You betrayed Josh and me for money.

I mean, how does that even feel?

Had it so be needed, it's my grandfather.

The police are circling this one, so I

wouldn't get too close if I were you.

Might get your wings burnt.

That was fucking low.

Not as low as you actually spending the

money on crack.

Yeah, and I regret that to this day,

but you think it's OK to punish me

about bringing it up in the courtroom?

Oh, my Christ, does no-one remember that

I didn't fucking start this?

And you're not going to finish it, are

you?

It's all right, I love him.

Is this you in the car with Georgia

Wright?

Yes, it's me.

So this is timed about 20 minutes before

Jack's phone call to his wife and before

he was subsequently shot.

You are approximately eight minutes by car away

from Marston Hall.

We were on our way there to pick

up my car.

OK, and where had you been?

Out for dinner.

Is there something we're missing, Mary?

Um...

G and I were a thing.

We had been for quite a few years.

How many is quite a few?

Five this Christmas.

Is this something her husband knew about?

I don't think so.

I mean, look, I'm divorced.

We saw each other once a month or

so.

It was just something that suited us both.

You're describing it in the past tense, so

you're no longer together?

No.

Why?

Well, as I said, um...

I thought we were going out for dinner,

but, um...

It turned out she wanted me to do

something for her.

Do what?

She wanted me to go into Jack's office

to see if I could find copies of

a particular document.

Which document?

His will.

Right.

And did you do what she asked?

God, no.

Um...

No.

I mean, it's grossly unprofessional.

I mean, it's possibly even illegal.

How did she take that?

Not well.

Yeah, not well at all.

Um...

It caused a huge row.

Um, in fact, she cut the evening short

and drove me back at speed to pick

up my car.

I'd never seen her like that before.

She seemed desperate.

When she dropped you off, did you see

her drive away?

My car was parked round the back of

the house, and, um...

by the time I got round the front

again, her car had gone.

I presume there are plenty of other places

for Georgia to park up on the estate.

More secluded places.

Yeah.

Yeah, there are plenty.

Every motorway camera, every CCTV, every ring camera,

I want to work out exactly what time

Georgia Wright drove out of here.

Hello, Frances?

Everything OK?

Graham Wright's bank statements last six months.

Finally.

Have a look at page 24.

On the night Jack died, Graham's in a

pub about seven miles from Marston.

Oh.

What's she doing?

Oh, I think some swelling is now pressing

on her medulla, which is probably why she

fainted.

Oh.

Poor love.

They can reduce the inflammation with steroids, but...

Time's running out, Bobby.

They need the money.

But it can wait for a day or

two, can't it?

Just to the judgement, just in case...

I've already transferred it, love.

Trust me, you'll be fine.

Gambling.

What sort of gambling?

Any sort.

Bitcoin.

Currency markets.

Poker, football, anything.

Everything.

Even bet on it, which...

turns out it's quite a lot.

Why?

Because when I won, it filled a great

big fucking hole at the centre of my

life.

Which would be me.

I was never your fault, John.

Maybe it wasn't mine either.

I think we just both married the wrong

person.

I'm sorry I couldn't be more like my

dad.

So...

how much have you lost?

All of it.

Your portfolio, my portfolio.

And...

the house is mortgaged.

She didn't help.

Josh?

What are you doing here?

Why aren't you at school?

Did you not ever think about how it

would be for me, Mum?

Having everything revealed in a fucking courtroom to

the whole world.

Did you not ever think about that?

I genuinely didn't think that would have happened.

I told you it was going to smash

everything up.

And for what?

For nothing?

I'm going to make it okay, Joshie.

I swear, I'm going to make it all

okay.

This is from our noticier's work diary for

two weeks beginning 4th November.

That's why he comes over on the 9th?

On the Eurostar.

He has a meeting at 78 Finsbury, which

is a coffee shop 50 yards from Jack's

office.

Returns to Paris.

OK.

Look at the 12th.

CCP depart 2100.

Cougar charter Paris.

It's a private helicopter service.

And where does it fly to?

Anywhere you want within a 300-mile fuel

limitation.

How many miles to Mars, then?

238.

And what did they say, the CCP company?

They say they can't find the flight log.

They also sounded pretty scared.

My guess is Tizia let them know exactly

who he is.

When was the last time you saw your

father, Graham?

The Thursday before he died.

Like I already said.

OK.

Showing the suspect exhibit GW01.

It's a James Brothers bank statement.

Whose statement is that, please, Graham?

Well, it's got my name and address on

it, so I guess mine.

It is yours.

And what period does this statement cover?

Er...

5th of November...

to 21st...

2024.

Are there any entries dated the 12th of

November?

One.

For how much?

73.49. Can we cut to the fucking

chase, please?

I'd love to.

Did you kill your father?

No.

In which case, what business is that debit

to?

It says the Bullenherren.

What time was the payment made?

21.26. Showing suspect exhibit GW02.

Copy of the till receipt for a meal

at the Bullenherren.

I say meal, you A, a pasty.

The rest of the bill is alcohol.

Two bottles of Malbec, to be precise.

And just to help you out, the Bullenherren

is in a village called Flitwick, which is

about seven miles from Marston Hall.

So...

is the truth, Graeme, that you drove up

to see your dad again to ask for

money to pay your debt to Eddie Elliot?

That you bolstered yourself with a couple of

bottles of wine when you drove over there?

No.

I don't think you're a naturally violent man,

Graeme.

Maybe you just wanted to scare him.

No.

You went into that water tower.

You successfully unlocked the gun from the cabinet

this time and now you have to go

over to the main house, except he walks

in and surprises you.

There's no way I'm...

Maybe he gets angry.

Maybe he tries to grab the gun.

Maybe the gun goes off accidentally and suddenly

you're in his...

I crashed my car.

I was going to go to his house.

But I never got there.

Cos this little old biddy in a Honda

Jazz pulled right out in front of me

and I just...

I panicked and I drove off.

Except the radiator was fucked.

So I had to dump the motor in

Ripley and in the end I got the

train back to London.

There's no train tickets on this statement, Graeme.

I jumped the barrier.

You can check the station CCTV.

And that is the truth.

Local plods just confirmed the car's still there

in Ripley.

There was also a report of a failure

to stop at 10 that night.

Driver sustained a broken wrist, only got a

partial plate, hence NFA.

In worse news, we also can't find any

useful footage to exclude Georgia Wright.

First time we pick up her car is

at 23.07 on the A13, which proves

nothing one way or the other.

Hey.

Mr Wright, it's Ruth Allen.

We have a judgement.

10 o'clock tomorrow.

Beth?

Beth?

You there?

I'm home.

Home where?

The UK.

I'm home and...

I want the kids back.

Where are you going?

London.

And listen, you can keep this.

Whatever's left of it.

I never liked it anyway.

I wish you happiness, George.

I really do.

All rise, please.

This is the hand-down of judgement in

the case of Wright versus Wright.

It is not for this court to comment

on the substance of the prenuptial agreement signed

by Mrs Wright.

I'm here to offer judgement only on what

is before me, and I find that in

respect of his wife and her son Joshua,

the bequests made by Mr Wright are consistent

with and supported by the exclusions and conditions

laid out in that agreement.

It's clear in emails provided by the defence

that in August of this year, Mr Wright

had hair samples of Joshua subjected to a

DNA test.

This test, to the best of his knowledge,

subsequently confirmed his suspicion that he was not

Joshua's father and by implication that his wife

Sally Wright had been unfaithful.

The court requires that an independent DNA comparison

be made now to corroborate those results, but

makes the interim judgement to deny the claim

made by the third Mrs Wright.

The lab just called.

They've sent over the results of the blood

tests on Rupert McGuire's clothes.

Oh, hi, Leslie.

Very quickly.

So the Specman's money obviously goes through on

Friday, but can you do me a favour?

The 1.75 we saved on the deal...

I've just had a rather attractive offer from

our bank for a six month fix.

If I give you the details, can you

slide that into a new account for me

please?

Yeah, sure, I'll get that to you.

Super, I'll email that over to you now.

Thanks so much.

In the matter of John and Graham Wright's

claim that their father's will did not make

reasonable financial provision, I find in their favour.

Judgement on how exactly the estate might be

more fairly distributed will be delivered tomorrow.

All rise.

Emily, I'm sorry.

For what?

You got what you wanted.

I never wanted you to lose out.

That is so Graham Wright, pretending to be

sorry for an outcome you set out to

make happen.

It was never about you though, it was

always just about him.

And whatever I do end up with, you

can have it, I swear.

Oh can I?

Can I, Dad?

Can I have it all then?

Can I have all the fucking money?

It was only ever about him.

Emily Wright?

Yes?

I'm arresting you on suspicion of soliciting to

murder.

You don't have to say anything but it

may harm your defence.

If you mention one question, please step back

mate, something which you later rely on in

court.

She hasn't killed anybody.

In evidence, this way please.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Dad, Dad!

That is my daughter, mate.

Em, Emily.

Em, I'm sorry.

Em!

So are these your clothes, Reuben?

No comment.

Well maybe they're someone else's.

No comment.

Then why'd you try to destroy them?

No comment.

Was it because you knew they had the

victim's blood all over them?

No comment.

Because that's what we found, Jack Wright's blood

on the burnt remains of a t-shirt,

pair of jeans and in a bag stuffed

behind your wardrobe.

Can you tell us anything about these?

No comment.

Where were you on the night of November

12th, Reuben?

No comment.

All right, Reuben, look.

Reuben, if you had nothing to do with

this, this is your chance to clear your

name, right now.

So, where were you?

No comment.

Was it her idea?

Did you do it for her?

For your girlfriend, Emily?

No comment.

So your fiancé came into the station, Emily,

and showed us some very worrying messages of

yours that he'd forwarded from your phone.

Showing the suspect EW01, a printout of five

messages sent between April and November 2024 between

you and Reuben Maguire.

Can you read the second message, please?

He deserves everything we've got planned and more.

Everything we've got planned?

What does that mean, Emily?

No comment.

What other pair have you planned?

No comment.

We know that Jack started to change his

will three days after he met Maguire.

Is this you and Maguire discussing that plot?

No comment.

Okay, could you read message number three, please?

Why don't you read it?

How about I read it?

If he gave me the whole company, it

still wouldn't make up for what he did

to me that night.

For what he did to me that night.

What did he do to you, Emily?

No comment.

Sounds serious.

If leaving you a company worth 100 million

still wouldn't make up for it.

No comment.

What about this last one?

From Reuben to you on the 4th of

November.

How long do you think he'll live?

Do your family have good genes?

After that, he's put a wink face emoji

to which you reply with a laughing face

emoji.

What is that about?

No comment.

Yeah, I'm sure.

Okay, let me tell you where we are,

Emily.

I think for whatever reason you had some

deep-seated animus against your grandfather.

He knew money meant more to him than

most.

I think maybe it means more to you

than most.

Bullshit.

So you hatched a plot to have him

change his will to your financial advantage.

Not true.

But you got bored waiting for him to

die.

So you had Reuben, a violent ex-offender,

kill him.

Which is why your grandfather's blood is all

over clothes we found in Reuben's house.

What clothes?

The burnt remains of a pair of jeans

and a t-shirt.

Those clothes are mine.

John?

On a night in August 2014, when I

was 13 and he thought I was asleep

on his sofa after watching a movie, he

touched me here.

My grandfather.

I pretended to stare.

He moved away.

And that was it.

One action.

One touch.

Which only lasted a few seconds.

But which changed my life.

Forever.

Like most kids, I tried to minimise it.

I was drunk.

It was only once.

He was fucked up.

His ex-wife had committed suicide a few

months before.

But still, I needed to make sure I

was safe.

And so from that night on, I only

saw him when I needed to.

The job at JK Wright.

Family things.

I always tried to not be on my

own with him.

But about six months ago, when I was

back in the UK to see Rose, I

realised it was ten years.

So I decided to go and see him.

And I needed him to acknowledge it.

What he'd done to me.

What he'd taken.

And so I told him that I hadn't

been asleep.

That I'd known, that I'd always known that

he sexually assaulted me.

I don't know what I expected him to

say.

But I guess I wasn't surprised by how

he did react.

Which was to do exactly what he always

did when anyone confronted him.

Attack, humiliate, deny.

And I wasn't going to let him do

that to me.

So I turned to leave.

Except he grabbed my wrist to try and

stop me.

So I swung my elbow back round to

his face.

Hard.

Really fucking hard.

And there was blood everywhere.

I was screaming at him.

He was screaming at me, trying to hold

on.

And then suddenly I was in the street,

getting a cab to Reuben's.

And there I changed out my clothes and

into some clean ones he lent me.

I don't know why he kept them.

But those clothes were mine.

Reuben Maguire did not kill my grandfather.

And I most definitely did not ask him

to.

We know that they blackmailed him.

The messages pretty explicitly suggest that.

They do.

We know that Maguire, despite multiple opportunities to

do so, has not provided us with an

alibi on the night of the murder.

He hasn't?

And most importantly, we know we have the

victim's blood all over clothes hidden at Maguire's

house.

She says are hers.

Well, she would do, wouldn't she?

Or she's on the hook for solicitation.

You think she made that up about Jack?

I don't know.

I don't know.

But 74 and not a whiff of anything

like that ever before.

I think the CPS will bite our hands

off, boss.

Let's call them.

Oh, fuck!

Hey.

What are you doing in my house, Arno?

This is very wrong.

So, you lost?

Lost what?

Your case.

You dumb bitch.

For now, maybe, yes, but...

I need that money.

I need it fast.

And I'm not sure you've been taking me

seriously.

Oh, no, I can't.

I...

I don't have access to his accounts.

They're all frozen.

I don't have spare millions just lying around.

Except, of course, you do.

Other assets you can sell.

Not worth that much.

You're lying, Sal.

I'm not.

So, just know this.

It doesn't end well for people who don't

take me seriously.

Three million by Friday.

À bientôt.

In assessing how the bequests of the late

Jack Wright might be redistributed more equitably and

in line with the judgments I've already made,

I've tried to balance the needs and rights

of all claimants to the estate as best

as possible.

Murder for Maguire.

Solicitation to murder for her.

No award has been made in isolation, but

as part of a bigger picture.

And to award them what I felt they

truly deserved.

In the matter of Emily Wright's appointment as

chief executive, her receipt of her grandfather's company

shares and 15 million pounds.

Emily Wright is clearly a young woman of

exceptional character and ability.

And I thus uphold the first two of

these bequests in their entirety.

Miss Wright and her grandfather clearly had an

unusual connection.

It's perfectly legitimate that in her, he saw

the future of his company would be in

the safest possible hands.

Heathrow, please.

Given the value of the shares, I have,

however, reduced her monetary bequest to 5.4

million.

And I've done this largely to accommodate the

needs of his two elder sons, John and

Graham, who I believe are entitled to a

sum of 5 million pounds each.

To further facilitate this, I have also reduced

the bequest to his first wife, Rose, who

he had been divorced from for nearly 40

years.

To 100,000 pounds.

And that concludes this judgement.

There's a report online.

Emily's been arrested.

Emily Corazon Wright, you are charged that at

a time between the 18th of April and

the 12th of November, 2024, you did solicit

the murder of Jack Kenton Wright, contrary to

section four of the Offences Against the Person

Act 1861.

Do you have anything to say?

I'm innocent.

In the end, you'd have to say the

will echoed the life.

Cruel, narcissistic, messy.

But also oddly opaque.

Because even now, I reach for a desire

to believe that maybe there was love there

too.

An attempt, subconscious or not, to liberate us

from money.

But then I remember Emily.

Cut from the same cloth.

I look at her and I see him.

And then I see...

Well, I'll tell you what I don't see.

Innocence.

In her, all that piece of shit.

Pot and kettle, I hear you say.

Maybe you're right.

I mean, I did kill a man.

So I'm not exactly innocent myself, am I?

I really think I should come in with

you, Rose.

Oh, no, no.

Sorry, but I don't even know if they'll

let me see her.

If they do, I'd rather we were alone,

if you don't mind.

Call me when you're done.

Will do.

Afternoon.

Can I help you, madam?

Yes, I think you can.

I want to make a confession, please.

Okay.

A confession to what, exactly?

Murder.

It was me.

I killed Jack Wright.

All eyes on me!

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