Original subtitles

Hiya!

Luke?

Laura?

What you doing?

Luke.

Luke, son.

Luke?

Luke.

Luke.

Son.

Luke, darling.

Luke!

Ah, come on.

Two minutes of your life.

He doesn't deserve this, you know.

No one does.

You never met him.

Uh, no. You're right.

I just didn't know who else to ask.

Yeah, come here, come here. Just give us it here.

Away, then.

Thanks, love.

Should we say a prayer, then, or what?

You not coming, then?

What?

No. I'll just...

Come on.

You're all right.

I'll just...

- Here. - Yeah.

Drink up.

- Cheers. - Love.

Glad that's over.

Why this place?

Dad always liked a full breakfast.

Hello?

Chief Inspector Vera Stanhope.

Vera.

Time of death?

Midnight, give or take.

God. And again.

Oh.

- Thanks, love. - Welcome.

Yeah, when I find the bugger who give me this cold...

Oops. Pardon me.

Well, there's one mystery cleared up.

Say hello to your wife and kids for me, Billy.

How old is little Jack now?

His name is Raymond.

So...

we've ruled out suicide?

Well, evidently.

Thin abrasion round the neck.

Strangled? A wire or what?

Skin's not broken, so unlikely.

Some kind of thin rope, I imagine.

So not drowned?

No. Death was moments before the body entered the water.

I'm speculating... Somewhere in the house,

then carted in here, dropped in the tub.

Not dropped.

Placed.

Precision.

And those flowers. They...

Shop-bought?

Or no.

No, they're wild flowers. Must be.

Meadow flowers.

We'll need an expert.

Okay.

Uh.

Nice-looking.

Luke Armstrong.

15 last April.

Almost look younger, don't they, after...

Mm.

Okay, um... home alone, the lad?

No. Laura, kid sister.

Uh-huh.

She was in there.

Right.

Entry? Our killer?

Kitchen window open, apparently.

Oh.

That was usual, was it?

Leaving the window open.

Well, her daughter's asthmatic.

So...

the killer comes through the window.

Prints?

Partial footwear impression.

Must be some kind of walking boot, eh?

Yeah, looks like it.

And what about the girl?

She must have heard something.

Spark out, apparently.

Asleep?

And we believe that?

Teenagers. Believe anything.

Should do nicely for publicity.

I'll have a word.

And Mum?

Where's Mum?

I-I should phone the school, should I?

Is that what you do?

It's all taken care of.

Right.

Well, I know he was down in the dumps lately, but I...

Julie, your son didn't take his own life.

Okay. Ready to move the body.

Right. Come on.

Let's take ourselves off for a bit. Come on, pet.

I got home... Must have been 11:30.

By bus or taxi?

Yeah, it was a bus.

Gary, he works on the sound desk at the Sage.

- Your fella? - Aye.

Well, he had to get back and help out after the show,

so he left us at a taxi rank at the Quayside.

I'm a bit short, to tell you the truth.

I didn't want to seem like I was begging for a handout.

So I waited till he wasn't looking, then I...

Ah, right. You got the bus instead.

- Aye. - Hm.

Anything catch your eye?

Cars? Faces?

There... There was a Jeep kind of thing

at the bottom of the street.

- Jeep? - Yeah.

You mean a Land Rover?

Aye. That's it.

Color?

Green?

Brown maybe.

I...

If I'd drunk a bit less, kept a clear head, then maybe...

You said Luke had been a bit down lately.

Ah, well, he's... Luke's very...

He was very sensitive.

I-I know we always say that, don't we, but he... he was.

But why now in particular?

Well, his friend Tommy drowned in the summer,

and Luke, poor lad, saw it happen.

- Tommy Sharp? - Aye, aye.

I kept telling him, "Son, it's not your fault."

Do you think, if I'd just waited for that taxi...

No. Don't do that.

20 quid from the Quayside to Blyth, it's not even.

I don't deserve kids.

I don't.

Oh.

Oh, my beautiful boy.

I'm sorry.

Oh, God.

What happens now?

You try to get some rest.

And if you remember anything at all, you've got my number.

Uh-huh.

Hey.

What's he doing here?

Gary?

I'm so sorry.

- Hiya! - Mum!

Oi, how are you?

You all right? How was your day?

- Good? - Good.

Yeah? Did you get on well?

Oh, I don't know.

No? Have you not decided yet?

No.

You must be James' mum.

Hi, yeah, yeah. Felicity.

- Hi. How you doing? - I'm Lily Marsh.

- Oh, right. - James' new teacher.

- Oh, yeah. - About the beach hut.

What about it?

Uh, he did tell you, didn't he?

What's that?

James, I don't believe you!

I'm sorry.

It's just we were talking in class about where we all lived,

and I happened to mention I was in between digs, you know,

and James here pipes up and says you were after a tenant.

Oh, you cheeky monkey.

No, well, you know, I don't know.

Hey.

You're not after a tenant, then?

Well, we have talked about it, I suppose.

You know. But...

I'm so sorry. I should have called direct.

If I run, I might still catch that bus.

No, no. Listen, hey.

You know, I expect we can fit you in our busy schedule.

- Can't we? - Really?

Hey, Jamie?

Come on!

Open up!

Jamie, the key's under the mat!

Here.

Go on, then.

- Whoa. - Oh, sorry.

Oh.

Oh, it's very nice.

Oh, it's peaceful, you know.

A lot of privacy if that's what you're after.

So, there's sitting area, shower, fridge.

All mod cons.

Thank you.

You're very kind, letting me in like this.

You're welcome.

Oh, beautiful flowers.

Mm.

I always love roses. Don't you?

Uh-huh.

Okay. Rise and shine.

Holly, what were they... Shop-bought or what?

Gathered by hand, according to forensics.

But I spoke to a botanist at the uni about an hour ago.

He's tied up for the rest of the day.

But I described them over the phone to him,

and he said that they were...

Wild flowers, found in every ditch in Northumberland.

Basically, yeah.

15 years old.

He was targeted. Why?

Anything at all?

I spoke to his head teacher.

Luke had learning difficulties.

He's got behavioral reports going back a year or two.

Okay. He was bored.

Bit lost.

Wrong postcode for dyslexia.

Dad's in his grave.

Mum's hanging off her hinges, worships the bones of him.

And someone climbs in the window,

strangles our lad with a length of rope,

and then places him in a warm tub

like some poncy installation at the Baltic.

And then there's his classmate. Tommy Sharp.

Davy's lad.

Oh, look.

It woke up.

Tell them, Joe.

Tommy drowned four months back

whilst playing with our victim by the sea.

Coroner's verdict... Misadventure.

Now, no blame was attached to Luke.

They were classmates, best friends apparently,

and according to one eyewitness, they were playing peacefully.

Tommy got carried out by the current.

Luke went in after him.

He was lucky not to drown himself.

Charlie, blag a copy of the coroner's report.

- See what turns up. - Will do.

And then comes the memorial.

Same place as Tommy drowned.

Joe.

Flowers on the water.

They're not wild flowers. They're...

No, they look shop-bought to me.

So, the flowers on Luke.

Are they some sort of homage to this other lad?

Or revenge? Reprisal?

That's a question I'm hoping to put...

to this man.

It's Tommy's father, Davy Sharp.

Walked out of prison nine days ago.

Been off the radar ever since.

"Your characters are more real than anyone

"I suppose...

because... under... kind of."

"What was I thinking?

"He would count it a blessing if I fell under a bus.

But I will not go quietly."

Let me out.

Let me out of here, please!

Please, I can't breathe!

Help! Help me!

Oh, Dad.

This is where he was spotted last couple of days.

Hello, Davy.

What you doing here?

Your family's worried sick.

This one of Tommy's old haunts, is it?

His name was Thomas.

Well, I need to talk to you

about your son's friend Luke Armstrong.

I'm afraid he died.

Thursday night.

Murdered in his own bed. What do you think of that?

How did they kill him?

A length of rope.

You were angry with Luke for your son's death.

It's all in the report.

Thomas Sharp slipped and fell in the water.

His best friend Luke tried to save him, but he drowned anyway.

Still...

life goes on, eh?

A neighbor just told my sergeant

that you were seen spying on Luke's house.

Ah, he never told his mother, like.

He didn't want to frighten her.

What were you following him for, Davy?

I just wanted to hear him say that he tried his best.

Ma'am.

Hey! Don't you touch that!

What were you doing on Thursday night?

- Thursday? - Anyone see you?

- Vouch for you? - Hey!

Get your hands off that.

Don't you touch that! I want youse out of here!

I want youse out now! Get out!

Oh, you better arrest him, Joe!

He could do with a decent meal.

There we go.

I think it's a Ring ouzel.

It's a blackbird.

Ring number 64.

Full female.

1-2-8.

There you go.

- Cheers! - Never.

No, it's true. One year to go. Mm-hmm.

It's not like it's a trade secret.

Mwah.

Right.

- Mm. - Yeah.

Ooh!

It's a clock. What do you think, Jim?

- Oh, it's brilliant. - That's not just any clock.

You see, you've got to wind it up to the hour...

- Gary's idea. - I can see that.

Chaffinch? Chaffinch?

Song thrush.

Well, that is...

And like every hour, it's like

- a different garden bird. - Obscene.

Just what you always wanted.

Peter.

It's not much. It's...

It's a paper bag.

Very promising.

Oh.

- Oh. - Did you do this?

- Yeah. - We all look half our age.

Well, we were, Sam.

It's from an old Polaroid. It's our first-ever trip.

- Do you remember? - Up in Skye.

- Yeah. - Skye.

Thank you, Clive. Where do we hang it?

I reckon it's a shoo-in for the outdoor khazi.

- Very funny. - No, ignore him.

He's just jealous.

Oi, where are you sneaking off to?

- Nowhere. - I'll come with you if you like.

No, Gary. You stay put.

Don't go too far, my love!

Mum!

Dad!

Mum!

There's our eyewitness.

James Calvert, age 9.

Oh. One for you, I think.

- Lily Marsh was his teacher. - What?

At the local school in Hepworth.

She ever teach Luke Armstrong?

Nah, there's no chance. She was only there six weeks.

Part of her training, apparently.

Hm.

What the...

Hey!

Get...

- Get off! - Get out!

Which of you dosey dick wipes came up with this brave notion?!

Hey, nobody touches the body till forensics get here.

That's what they said.

Get Billy Cartwright on the phone... now!

Hey.

Mmm.

Mmm. Mmm.

Better?

Now, that is moist.

Oh.

Oh, aren't you clever?

Thanks.

Mm.

Mmm.

That was a stroke of luck for us,

your lad chancing on the victim.

It's one way of putting it, I suppose.

One more hour, she'd have been swept out to sea.

Yeah?

Mind you, the boys were gonna take a walk up to the castle,

so I suppose someone would have seen her.

How is he?

- Just gone down. - Really?

- My little boy. - He'll be okay.

You know, a thing like this, though...

You just don't know what goes in, do you?

And Jamie adored her.

I saw her, you know. S-She was here yesterday.

- You never said. - Yeah.

She heard about the beach hut and, uh, she came to the house.

Oh. Uh.

I was waiting to hear from her.

I'm gonna go and see him.

- Sweetheart, he'll be fine. - No, I'll just be a minute.

Dr. Calvert?

You ever meet the victim? Through the university, perhaps?

I'm botany.

Wrong end of campus.

I think your sergeant said

she was studying English, wasn't she?

Hm.

Uh.

What a thing.

You know, there's still time to go down to the castle.

If we're all done here?

That's not really on, is it?

No?

Sorry.

So, just to be clear,

none of you gentlemen had ever met the victim?

Hmm?

Gary's the ladies' man.

He's joking.

I thought I knew your face.

Yesterday morning,

you were waiting outside Julie Armstrong's house?

Yeah.

What time did you get up here?

- Today? - Mm.

Um, been about... 2:00, was it?

I've been at work all morning.

So, what? I mean...

You work at the Sage Gateshead, don't you?

That's right.

I was devastated about her boy.

Ah, well, she's none too bright herself.

That one yours, is it, sir?

Yeah. How did you know?

Mind if my lads have a nose inside?

Nah, if it helps.

Thursday night.

What?

You spent the evening with Julie,

then dropped her at the taxi rank?

Aye, yeah.

- I fancied a walk. - Ah.

She was under the impression you had to get back to work.

Was she?

No, no, I, um...

Well, it was a big night, you know.

It was a lot to take in.

I, uh... I just needed to clear me head.

21 years of age. No kids yet.

She had all that ahead of her.

Waste, don't you think?

So, she was in the water, what?

Minimum two hours.

But she passed her last breath earlier still.

When?

10:00, 10:30 yesterday morning.

She died elsewhere, I imagine.

- She was dragged. See? - Same as Luke.

What carried over the rocks from the car park?

Strong fella.

But the last sighting of her was 10:30?

Yeah, the night before, leaving the Crown Posada,

in the center of town.

So what happened to her overnight?

- She may have been confined. - Eh?

Incarcerated. Any idea where?

We found paint flakes under the nails.

- Could be the boot of a car. - Land Rover?

Couldn't say.

Same killer?

Well, same murder weapon. Or similar.

A thin rope.

Uh, you recall these contusions round the victim's neck?

And flowers.

Those we could save.

Heather, thrift, rockrose. Again, picked, not shop-bought.

- A match. - Yeah.

I suppose that rules out Davy Sharp.

Well, for this poor lass.

He was with you, wasn't he?

Not that I'd want to tell you your job, but...

Good for you.

Oh, somebody make some sense of this.

Joe.

A teenage boy, trainee teacher.

Never met, never spoke, as far as we know.

Both nice-looking, blond.

I don't suppose there was any, you know, interference?

Oh, Sergeant, you're a gentleman. No.

No sign of sexual assault,

although I'd imagine the young lady

was, uh, dressing up for someone.

He's off in a hurry, isn't he?

Now here's Julie, pretending to get a taxi.

A couple of drunks.

Should be ashamed of themselves. Look at them.

Here's Gary, minding his own business.

Here he comes.

Now he's running. He's in a hurry.

Why's he in such a hurry?

Now where are you going?

As far as Gary knew, she was getting a taxi.

I mean, how was he to know she was getting the slow bus home?

He texted her twice on the way home,

asking her not how she was but where she was.

What's this? You pulling a sickie?

I'm on leave.

I'm supposed to be.

The head's engaged. We're not even packed yet.

- For the hospital. - Mm-hmm.

Plus the mother-in-law's turning up at 5:00

with the usual suitcase full of ravioli.

Why, lucky old you.

Ah, look at that. I think they're waving at you.

Hm.

Come and say hello. They won't bite.

Another time perhaps.

I've got that much paperwork to do, more interviews.

An all-nighter I expect.

Now, you go on. Go.

You make the most of your family time.

Listen, I could send them to the cinema.

We've two hours max.

Well, if you think you could manage it, pet.

Here.

What's that?

It's for the cinema. Take it.

Ah, you're very kind.

That wouldn't even buy the popcorn.

What are you getting on? What's this got to do with Gary?

Probably nothing at all.

You shouldn't do that.

You shouldn't put thoughts like that into me head.

He's a good man.

This lass.

Have you ever seen her before?

No.

No, I haven't.

Laura?

Who is she?

Is she familiar at all?

I almost forgot. This letter came.

Here.

Condolence?

No, it's addressed to our Luke.

See?

They've got the address wrong. You see?

20 Alba Street instead of 20 Alba Terrace.

When did it come?

It was yesterday, I think. Was it?

What do you think?

Oh, innocent enough.

How much rent was she paying?

�580 a month.

Phew!

Steep for a trainee teacher.

Posh end of town.

And she was moving out, was she?

Well, not according to the flatmate.

But she was behind with the rent, apparently.

Hmm.

So why the sudden urge to move into the Calverts' beach hut...

the day before she died?

Yeah, I know. I know.

Listen, not much longer, all right?

Yeah. We're just finishing up here.

Oh, okay. Head off.

Enjoy your half-day.

Ah, you're very kind.

I know.

Yeah. Just one or two things.

Half an hour.

I know. I love you, too. Ciao, bella.

He's local.

That's unsealed, so there's no trace of saliva.

Smart-arse.

Same as Luke's.

Two down.

Who's next?

Ma'am?

I thought I knew his name.

Samuel Parr, local author, one of the bird watchers.

Hi. Is Julie there?

Julie...

It's Gary.

Sorry?

Yeah, can you put her on?

I just said, didn't I?

She can't come to the phone now.

Bye.

Thanks, love.

Thank you.

Did you write this?

Shop signing.

It's how we shift books these days.

Standard issue.

- Total bollocks. - Oh?

The ideal reader is one who leaves you alone.

"Keep in touch"?

Hang on.

There's an outside chance she's in here somewhere.

Oh, it's fan mail.

Daft as it may seem.

I don't know what they expect from me.

Lily...

Marsh.

Hmm.

Are you sure you've never met her?

She's not my sort at all, if that's what you're getting at.

And how do we like our women, Mr. Parr?

You'd be surprised.

These letters.

You ever write back?

Seldom even read them, to be honest.

You're not tempted... All that devotion?

My vanity is more specific.

Oh.

Certain people, certain times.

This the wife?

Late wife.

I'm sorry.

That's okay.

Paid to snoop.

Here we go.

Anything good?

I've yet to see them fully clothed.

I thought you told us they were farmers.

That's what me dad said.

Poor sod.

Probably couldn't bring himself to utter the truth.

Nothing he hated worse than being laughed at.

Where did he, uh...

Where did he what? Cook? Clean?

Wash his knickers? What?

Where did he die?

In that chair.

I'm joking.

First landing.

Who found him?

Nobody.

Listen, you're not serious

about wanting to move up here, are you?

He's only been gone two minutes.

Six weeks.

Oh, all it wants is just a bit of tidying up.

Eh, speaking of which, come here.

There's an evil smell, and I can't get the bloody door open.

So you want me to have a look, do you?

Well, seeing as you're here.

Oh!

Oh!

- Uhh! - Oh!

There's two kinds of bird watcher, Joe.

One lot, gadding about with their pagers

and their funny little lists.

Along comes a bird, not even a rare bird.

You see them out on the hard shoulder,

bins out, mouths open, dead to the world.

The other lot... Dad's lot...

Dragging me out of bed, 7 years old,

half-asleep in the back of the car

while he's up a tree stealing eggs off some raptor.

It was never enough just to look.

He had to tear it apart, see how it worked.

He was a bully.

Or maybe he was just scared.

Scared of dying alone in a big empty house.

Did you get a chance to say goodbye?

I don't think "goodbye" would have covered it.

What's that?

Mist net.

It's what they use to trap migrant birds.

Take it up to the lab, will you?

A murder weapon?

Oh, it's standard equipment.

Still, there's no harm in asking.

So we back onto those witnesses, then?

Peter Calvert and his groupies?

This is not some pet prejudice.

She was put in that rock pool for them to find.

I'm sure of it.

- What?! - Mm.

I'm just saying...

It's your first murder since your dad passed away,

and all of a sudden, it's all about bird watching.

Well, maybe it is...

about bird watching.

What?

That was quick.

No, hold on. I'll come with you.

Smart girl, Holly.

Hard work and an open mind.

I was just the same when I was her age.

Ah, right. Of course you were.

Mr. Craven's a... What is it?

Oh, a psychiatric social worker.

She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.

So why dump her, Mr. Craven?

Well, too much, too young.

Plus I-I needed to focus on my "A" -levels.

So I pulled the plug.

I tried to anyway.

Lily went off at the deep end.

There was letters, e-mails.

She scared me half to death, to be honest.

She was obviously having some kind of breakdown.

I think she was even in here for a spell.

Oh, these corridors must be teeming with your castoffs,

- are they, Mr. Craven? - Not really.

Friday night.

Can you account for your whereabouts?

Uh, Friday...

Oh, um, I checked.

He was here all night and the next morning,

weren't you, Mr. Craven?

So, Lily was obsessive.

Clingy, you know. That's got to be useful.

Take a look at these.

What are they?

Letters... Lily Marsh to Samuel Parr.

I can't think why. He's no Tom Clancy.

She seems to have been seeing someone

up to a couple of weeks ago.

- An older man. - Okay.

And get Charlie to chase up

how she was paying the rent, will you?

Oh, this boyfriend. You're thinking sugar daddy?

Yeah, it would make sense.

Have you got any ideas who he is, ma'am?

Nah. I'm drawing up a short list.

Okay. What...

What's Joe up to today?

Sin bin.

Keeps him sharp.

Joe.

- And there, sir. - Right.

Right. Cheers.

Registered to a Mr. and Mrs. Blakeworth.

Unlikely suspects seeing as they just got back

from Tenerife two hours ago.

Prints? Forensics?

No, no prints.

Paint flakes in the boot.

Lily Marsh?

Was she in the boot?

It's not confirmed, but it looks like.

And?

They found this, backseat.

Mist net.

Item. One stolen Land Rover. Mist net.

Possible match for the murder weapon.

Ruling in our confederacy of bird watchers.

Lily Marsh.

Where are we at with the older man?

Um, there's no names mentioned in the letters to Samuel Parr,

but she does talk about him in the first letter.

"Generous and kind," she says.

Yeah. Dated?

Six months back, April 17th.

Two weeks later, she's in the posh flat.

Joe. Money.

There's between 400 and 600 quid

going into her account every month.

Cash deposits before you ask.

The last one was 300 six weeks ago.

Six?!

So older man ends it.

Or tries to.

And we know Lily didn't take kindly to being dumped.

What else in those letters? Any mention of Luke Armstrong?

No.

So, what's the link?

Luke and Lily.

Anybody? Daft as you like.

Gary Wright?

We've already ruled out his Land Rover.

Aye, but he loves the women.

Who doesn't?

Maybe he's, you know, at it with Lily.

He moves on to Julie.

Lily wouldn't let go.

What, so he murders her?

Heather. Autumn hawkbit.

A bit of wild sorrel.

Nothing you can pin down to a particular place?

No.

Pretty bog standard this time of year.

Well, there's no significance you can see?

As in?

Well, the choice of flowers, the arrangements.

Well, it seems like they're laid out

for taste more than anything else.

Taste?

Yes, presentation.

The look of the thing.

Oh. I see.

You'd need to ask Felicity. She's the real gardener.

Oh.

Good for you.

A strong marriage.

Mm. Those friends of yours must be dead jealous.

Hardly.

- I'm forever farming her out. - Oh?

She reads all Sam's stories and dishes out tea and sympathy

when Gary's latest love affairs go south.

Oh. I expect Gary has the pick of them, does he?

His line of work.

Um, I don't think it's half as glamorous as that.

Mm.

Look, I really must get started.

Hm.

Is this what you call a full house?

These days, yes.

Right.

So she sent you alone?

Aye. Just the once.

Let me guess. Issues around delegation.

You know that thing she does.

- The country hick thing. - Aye.

Doesn't fool me.

Had Peter fooled, though.

Well, he's no fool in that picture.

No.

Look how his eyes follow me around the room.

They do, don't they?

As if rebuking me for my idle thoughts.

That's Clive for you.

Clive?

Mm. Artist, stray dog, son that never was.

Mind you, Gary's no better.

He's a bit rock 'n' roll, is he, Gary?

Mm, it's one way of putting it.

They both sulked for years when I showed up.

And what about Samuel Parr?

Sam.

Sam's a bit more normal.

So, Detective Sergeant, what can I do you for?

The young woman who died who was interested in your beach hut.

Oh, I don't know. That was just a mix-up, I think.

She said that, um, Jamie, my son, had...

How's he doing?

Oh. He's getting there.

- Good. - Thanks.

You see the thing is that, uh, well, there's no evidence

that she planned to quit her own flat.

- Uh-huh. - So I wondered whether you

thought that she was ever really serious at all.

About?

Moving up here?

Mm. Not especially. No, I don't.

In fact, I almost wonder if she was just checking us out.

You know, maybe she'd had a row

with her boyfriend or flatmate or...

I don't know.

Oh. Well?

Well, what?

Did she ravish you?

Oh, just the once.

She had some very interesting things to say about you, mind.

- Oh? - Mr. Stringer, how are you?

Oh.

You certainly put the wind up Peter.

Oh. Called ahead, did he?

Just now.

I shouldn't mock, should I?

Good friends, you and Dr. Calvert?

The best.

And Felicity.

Point of fact, these past months,

uh, well, my mother, you see,

she's been under the same roof, well, all my life.

Mm-hmm. She's not been well?

- She forgets. - Mm.

You go on making excuses for them.

And then I wake up, middle of the night... - 08 it was...

Front door wide open, frost on the windscreen,

and I finally track her down.

- 83 years old. - Oh.

She's waltzing up the central reservation in her nightdress.

Oh, nightmare.

And Felicity drove me round all the homes.

And she gave me the courage to see

that I wasn't letting anyone down.

Oh. So, it's just yourself now, then, is it, Mr. Stringer?

Well, I've been kipping over at Peter and Felicity's

when I'm not staying at Sam's.

Uh, I find to my horror that I'm not much good at living alone.

I-I know. I know. Certifiable these days.

Oh, hardly.

- You, too? - Yeah.

Not for the fainthearted, is it?

No. No, it's not.

How about Gary Wright?

You're not tempted to sleep on his sofa?

The state of his flat.

Mm.

My immune system couldn't take the beating.

Besides...

well, it's like Clapham Junction in there.

Blondes, brunettes, redheads.

Oh, lucky fella.

Are you sure you've never seen her before?

And Gary didn't take her home, maybe from a club or...

Don't think so.

Would you tell me if he had?

I don't know why you're bothering with all this.

We were just witnesses.

How about...

Luke Armstrong?

That one. Thomas Sharp.

A waste of a life.

He grew up round the corner from us.

We didn't think much of the family.

Mum had the police out a couple of times

on account of all the noise, but...

Thomas was canny enough.

Mm.

Where will you go?

Wherever the wind takes me.

Davy, this anger you've got,

it's not the only way of keeping hold of him.

I will not believe that Thomas just fell in the water.

- He had a father who loved him. - Don't.

Don't think you can just fix it.

I can't see straight without him.

No, I know. I know that.

I open me eyes, and it's all black and white.

Like one of his bloody pictures.

Go on.

I'm not eating that.

- Hm. - It's off.

Suit yourself.

Mm.

Oi!

Off, my arse.

Don't fall for the big lie.

These cakes will last for weeks. Hold that.

You're mad, you are.

Not mad. I'm cheap.

Mm.

I love these.

Yeah?

I'm told Thomas was never without his camera.

Only none of his family seem to know where it is.

I hate having me photograph taken.

I always look so clumsy somehow.

Me too.

Oh.

You look very relaxed here.

And here.

Thomas put you at your ease, did he?

I suppose.

You were very close, you and Thomas?

Yeah.

Do you miss him?

Your Mum know about the pair of you?

No.

Please, we only did it the once.

Please don't tell her.

Hey.

None of my business.

I really need to find that camera, though.

I haven't got it.

But you know where it is.

They had a fight.

A fight?

- Thomas and your brother? - Yeah.

The camera went in the water.

And Thomas jumped in after it.

So, that's how he drowned.

Trying to save his camera.

That's what Luke said.

He made me swear not to tell, or he'd blab to Mum.

About you and Thomas?

What were they fighting about?

Luke wouldn't say, but...

Go on.

All I know is, Thomas showed me these pictures on his camera

a few weeks before he drowned.

There was this couple.

You know...

Ah. So he'd been peeping, had he, with his camera?

Every Friday afternoon.

He was laughing like it was so funny.

And he said, did I want to come and watch?

He said he had a plan.

"A bit of a laugh," he said.

What kind of laugh?

I don't know.

And did you go with him?

I'm not a pervert.

This couple in the photographs, you recognize them?

Uh... she was really pretty.

Lily Marsh?

Maybe. Yeah.

Lily Marsh in the photograph? Are you sure?

Well, I-I think so.

Her mouth, you know.

And what about the man with her?

I never saw him before.

Old or young?

Um, old?

Um, I-I don't know.

The photos were all blurry.

Blurry?

Stop.

Can you stop the bus, please, mate?

Aye.

Thanks.

So, maybe that's why they were fighting

the day Thomas drowned.

Well, I don't know, do I?

I've worn you out, haven't I?

I keep thinking.

About...

Yeah.

In your home?

Yeah.

I keep thinking that if I close my eyes...

All right.

Me own daughter's next in line, is she?

Come on.

- Go on, pet. - Come on.

Nothing's clean, is it?

Everybody's tainted.

I'd hate to be you.

I'd hate to be trapped in your skin.

You're poison.

I need that camera.

Well, you're hardly gonna find it here, are you?

It's been months.

It'll be halfway to Denmark by now.

It's our best link yet... Lily Marsh in those pictures,

the two boys, Luke and Thomas, behind the lens.

Lily Marsh and the older man out here somewhere, alfresco.

Hi, Joe. It's me.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Desk jockey.

I'm just checking what we're looking for.

Black SLR zoom lens, right?

Guess what I'm looking at.

Found 12 weeks back by a Mr. J. Edwards in Blyth.

And it's been sat in lost property ever since.

You trust me.

Don't you?

Is this the same model as Thomas'?

Be careful with it.

Forensics want it back tip-top.

What's up with you?

It's Wednesday, isn't it?

Wednesday.

The due date. For the baby.

Oh.

You know, I was there for Michael, but I missed Jess'.

It's be just nice to be around, be, you know.

I'll tell you why it's blurry.

At the end of the zoom, no matter how firm you hold it,

the image starts to shake, right?

So if Thomas was crouching here...

Let's have a little look.

Mum!

She's off gallivanting.

Oh.

Bye, Gran.

When you showed Lily around, did you get the impression

it was the first time she'd been there?

- How do you mean? - Did it seem familiar to her?

Well, how would that be possible?

What do you do on Friday afternoons?

I beg your pardon?

Do you have a regular appointment or what?

Yes, I do.

I teach art.

Hepworth Library.

What? What does it matter?

I'm going to need your permission

to search the beach hut.

I want everything cordoned off, the whole site.

Of course.

But why?

Where is your husband now, Mrs. Calvert?

At work. I don't know. He's... He's, uh...

Left at the crack of dawn, and...

I don't know. Why... Why do you need to know?

We think there's a small chance that's where Lily Marsh died.

Oh, come in.

It's probably nothing at all, but you did say...

Anything at all.

Can I just say, I feel so stupid,

yelling at you like that?

Oh, I had it coming.

Sometimes I just get lost in the chase.

You should hear them at work.

They think I was raised by wolves.

- Here it is. - Don't touch it!

Sorry.

Seem to spend half my life wearing these.

Not very fetching, are they?

When did it come?

This morning, I think.

Just some silly prank.

Did you call Laura on her mobile?

It's switched off.

But she got off to school all right?

Yes.

Well...

I think so.

I, um...

I only got back half an hour ago.

You stayed the night at Gary's?

Yes.

And, uh, does Laura take the school bus?

Uh-huh.

That's good, that's good.

We'll just call, make doubly sure.

I-I told you, her phone's switched off.

No, the school. Have you got the number?

Oh, right. Sorry.

Yeah. It's programmed on the phone.

Oh.

She's forgotten her inhaler.

Um...

We've got another card addressed to Laura Armstrong,

and she's missing, Joe.

Didn't turn up for school this morning.

Get yourself down there, talk to the school friends.

If we're lucky, she may have taken herself off to the shops.

Oh, and get Calvert in for questioning.

A 14-year-old girl appears to have been abducted this morning.

Our last circumstantial witness

to the fact that Lily Marsh and an older man

had sex in your beach hut every Friday afternoon

while your wife was away at her art club.

This is insanity.

So this morning...

I told you.

I drove to the campus around 8:00,

opened up the department.

I'm a key holder. It's on the bloody roster.

Do you consider yourself an important man?

A successful man, Dr. Calvert?

What kind of a quest...

I Googled you.

Height of impertinence, really.

"Made a notable contribution

to British botanical studies in the '80s,

but more recent work

is generally regarded as a consolidation."

Now I'm guessing that's bad, is it?

A consolidation? Hmm?

Three cheers for the early promise,

but, oh, all those half-empty lecture halls,

bored skinny girls

- texting their boyfriends. - Are you gonna just sit there?

I bet it was standing room only, was it, back in the day.

I would remind you my client is here of his own volition.

And along comes Lily.

Oh, I bet you were more than flattered.

- What nearly man wouldn't be? - Okay. We're done here.

We'll be in touch.

Interview terminated 11:05.

It's only her second day back at school.

Maybe the sight of all her friends all at once...

Maybe she couldn't face it

and thought, "I know. I'll go for a walk."

You think that's possible?

Well, until we learn more, I think there's every chance,

and when she gets back, she's gonna want you there on duty.

No excuses.

You are gonna find her, aren't you?

Julie, you remember I showed you a photograph of a young woman?

- On Sunday I showed you... - Yeah. Yes.

Well, we believe she was having a relationship

with a married man... An older man...

And that your son and Tommy Sharp witnessed them

and took photographs.

Laura saw those photographs.

Now, we think the boys approached this man.

I'm sorry. It's a lot to take in.

But if there's anything,

anything at all you know or you've heard...

Get somebody to give Julie a lift home, will you?

Sure.

Don't you worry.

"Dirty bastard."

"Dirty little bastard."

At... At Thomas' memorial.

Down by the sea?

Yeah. Aye. He was in a right mood.

Our Laura turned round on him and said,

"You can't talk about the dead like that."

But he said that he wasn't talking about Thomas.

He was talking about some fella he'd just met at the memorial.

The man was at the memorial?

That's what he said.

Did you see him?

No.

Did Luke say who the man was?

No.

Where is she?

Bathtub, rock pool. What next?

Bodies of water. Think.

Rivers, ponds, waterways.

Get everybody onto it, Joe.

Down there, sir.

I want somebody on those tire tracks.

Oh, Davy.

I don't understand why he'd want to hurt Laura.

I don't think he was trying to hurt her.

I think he was fighting to save her.

We've found a girl's shoe, ma'am,

but there's no sign of a body.

Julie.

Now, Julie, we want just a simple yes or no.

Oh, it's me bairn's.

- It's me bairn's! - No, no.

Come on, Julie.

It's okay.

It's all right, Julie.

- It's all right, Julie. - Is she in there?

It's all right now.

Come on, love.

It's all right. Come on.

Lily's ring bought on your credit card.

Look, all this.

It'll destroy my wife.

Where is she?

Where's Laura Armstrong?

Who?

Okay.

You and Lily fell passionately in... something or other.

- Yes. - T.G.I. Friday in the beach hut.

- Yes? - Yes.

Until the rose lost its bloom.

The less you wanted, the more she needed.

Yes. Yes.

Threats, pleading.

Oh, don't look now.

She's only got a job teaching your child.

- Yes. - Oh, you must have been...

Terrified, yes.

Marriage not safe.

- That's it. - Then what?

- That's it. - No.

- That's all there is. - No.

Thomas Sharp. Luke Armstrong.

Two lads taking photographs of you and Lily.

Photos?

Did they swan in like a pair of mafiosi,

demanding hush money?

Of course Thomas drowned. Stroke of luck, that was.

I don't know what you're talking about.

You were there to see him off, at the memorial by the sea.

"Dirty bastard." That's what Luke called you.

- What memorial?! - 8th of July.

I was never at any memorial!

You were there.

Luke saw you. He spoke to you.

Look in my diary. See for yourself.

Madrid, a conference.

300 witnesses plus.

If that's any help to you.

Please, don't tell Felicity.

You'll tell her yourself.

Well, if Calvert wasn't at the memorial, who was?

And where are those photographs?!

She'll be dead by nightfall.

Get in the car, ma'am.

Oh.

Charlie. Hello?

Yeah.

All right, thank you.

Samuel Parr still unaccounted for.

And as for his wife,

she overdosed on a bottle of pills

and drowned in her own bath.

Look at them.

The dad, the mam, and the two little bairns.

Do you think one of them could have murdered Lily,

at least for Peter's sake?

Yeah, if you were that devoted.

But Luke? Laura?

Why would Peter Calvert want them dead?

Hello. This is Sam Parr's answer machine.

Please leave a message, and I'll phone you when I get back.

Sweetheart, it's me.

Listen, Peter's in some kind of trouble, and I don't know.

I-I keep trying your mobile.

If this is about the story, then I'm sorry.

It's none of my business. Okay?

Just don't just shut me out.

I can't stand it when you do that.

Please, just call me.

Felicity.

The loyal wife.

What story?

"He carried her over the spit of rocks as if she were sleeping."

What is this?

"It seemed fitting

that as he wrapped her body in a lover's embrace,

that she would die here, like this, surrounded by flowers."

"The waves crashed against the castle keep."

Come on.

Why the castle?

It's an old haunt of my father's.

They keep it on as a Nature Reserve.

Sea watchers mainly.

- Joe's phone. - Ma'am.

Holly.

We found Samuel Parr. He's been at his wife's grave.

It's the anniversary of her death, apparently.

What, since this morning?

Yeah, all day.

So, what do you want us to do with him?

Well, thank him for his trouble and take him home, I would.

Okay.

Joe's answering service. What?!

Oh.

I'm sorry, love.

Right.

Yeah.

That was your midwife.

You what? And?

Your wife's waters just broke.

Look, I'll understand.

Just shut up, please.

Two lads fighting by the shore.

Lily and that man in the beach hut.

A dirty bastard throwing flowers at the memorial.

The coroner's report.

I asked Charlie to get at the coroner's report

into the drowning.

Well, it might have slipped his mind.

Slipped his mind?! I need that report!

Well, there might be one in the back. Have a look.

- Well, stop the car. - Wait. I can't pull over here.

Pull over!

There we are.

"According to the eyewitness, the deceased and Luke Armstrong

were playing peacefully by the shore.

The deceased slipped and fell into the sea."

But they weren't playing peacefully.

Laura told me.

They were having a fight.

But why would the witness lie about it?

Quid pro quo.

Eh?

Because the witness was a dirty bastard

who was willing to keep his mouth shut

so long as Luke Armstrong did the same for him.

Well, who was he?

Who was the eyewitness?

Get in the car.

You take the stairs.

I'll go this way.

Quiet.

Please. Please just let me go.

Laura?

Let her go.

This one never saw you.

She can't hurt you.

Luke will have told her.

No.

You were looking for a bird, weren't you, one Friday.

Looking for a bird.

But when you looked out and glanced on the beach hut...

there they were through your binoculars...

Peter having sex with Lily Marsh.

She was all over him.

Her mouth all over him.

On her knees.

Disgusting at first.

And then...

Clive.

Well, you were lonely.

Mam not there for you.

It was mad.

It was incredible.

I-I did try to tell Peter that I'd seen them,

but, I mean...

who's got the words for a thing like that?

But...

But you went back, didn't you?

Again and again.

How long?

Weeks? Months?

I was just looking.

But you weren't alone, were you?

Two lads with a camera. Luke and Thomas.

They'd caught you spying,

and now Thomas had you on camera, didn't he?

Click, click.

Peeping Tom.

Dirty bastard.

Clive!

Clive, where are you?

Clive!

Clive!

Clive, let her go.

Clive?

The way Thomas looked at me.

The triumph.

He was gonna show Peter.

He was gonna show the whole street.

Drop it off with the paper round.

What stopped him?

Ah. Oh, the other lad.

Luke.

He stood up to Thomas, didn't he?

They had a fight.

The camera fell in the water.

Luke took your side.

Yes, and I paid him back, didn't I?!

At the inquest, I lied for him.

But it was... it was like he... he couldn't forgive me.

Like I made him push his friend in the water.

You should have heard him going on.

And I knew... I knew...

That one of these days, he'd come after me.

Ah, he wasn't some bird of prey.

He was just a lad.

It's all right, Laura. It's all right.

Get him, Joe! Stop him!

Clive, stop!

Clive, no!

No!

Joe!

Joe, cut the net!

Cut the net, Joe!

I'm trying!

Cut the net, Joe!

Laura!

It's all right.

It's possible.

I may have confided about Lily.

Clive was like that.

Someone you could let off steam to.

It's not like I asked him to go out and finish her off.

No, you didn't have to.

Clive worshipped you.

- Oh, please. - He was besotted.

Well, who do you think he was watching every Friday?

Clive had his own reasons for wishing to harm...

Yeah, Luke Armstrong, yes,

but it was your girl trouble got him started.

Just a few words from an old friend in need.

You turn murder into a noble cause, Dr. Calvert.

First Luke.

And then Lily Marsh.

Wipe out the whole blessed memory.

Oh!

Oh.

Oh, I hope you don't mind me asking, but how did she take it?

What?

The wife.

You and Lily.

Oh.

She didn't seem all that surprised in the end,

you know.

I have a feeling she's known for quite a while.

Yes, well, she's very forgiving.

Well, she would be.

Those in glass houses, Dr. Calvert.

What?

- Oh, you all right, love? - Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.

How's it going?

Hey, Joe, just in time.

What's going on?

I'm giving the old bugger his marching orders.

Hey, Joe, this is Jack and Josephine.

- You all right? - Try saying that in a hurry.

Mm?

They're actually a very nice couple.

You think I'm mad, don't you?

Moving into a big, empty house.

You'll soon fill it.

We had a baby girl, by the way. Thanks for asking.

Oh, that's brilliant.

That's brilliant.

Have you thought of a name yet?

Francesca.

You know.

After the mother-in-law.

- With the ravioli? - Aye.

Ah, that's great.

There's some bubbly somewhere.

Ah, no, no, no. I was just passing.

Good weight, was she?

Aye. 3.6.

Of course it's all grams and kilograms these days.

I said, "I only do imperial."

Our Jessie was 7 1/2 pound.

Michael was just 6, 12,

but, of course, he was a bit premature, as you know.

Anyway, listen, the reason I popped round...

um, don't feel you have to say yes.

I know you're not a great one for the bairns.

It's just that Celine and I

were wondering if you'd ever do us the honor...

Here.

Aww, this the bonny lass, is it?

No, it's forensics.

They took them off Thomas Sharp's camera.

About bloody time.

Caught in the act.

Of peeping?

Of being alone.

Not for the fainthearted.

I never told you, did I?

It was the same place we dumped me mother.

What's that?

Dad's ashes.

Mind you, they weren't running the ferry in those days.

Went out in a little tugboat.

Of course I don't remember it meself, like.

I was too young. There's a photograph somewhere.

Was there something else?

No, no.

You enjoy your dinner.