All language subtitles for The Gentle Touch s01e04 Shock

Hello?

Speaking.

Of course I remember you.

Uh, well, no, not tonight, Tiger.

No such luck. I've been away. Just got
back.

As I walked in, the telephone was
ringing.

Yes, well, I'll see you around, lover.

Yes, you do that.

Ciao!

Hello?

I found a body.

I suppose it was a belief I wanted,
isn't it?

A man was coshed. Two hours ago he was
fine, and now?

I didn't do nothing.

What did you say?

Are you deaf?

You're mumbling.

It's these thick lips.

Michelin.

See? I said it for you. OK, OK, let's
skip the racist bit. Let's get back to

this afternoon.

You were there.

No. Yes, you were. You saw it. You must
have seen it.

Anyone ever tell you? Tell me what?

You've got a smashing fear of boobs.

Do you think so?

Oh, terrific.

I'll give a week's wages to ball you,
lady.

How old are you, Jackie?

17.

Well, I can still give a 17 -year -old
boy the hots.

You've made my day.

Come on.

It's 8pm, the 14th, and she's dead.

Do you want me to discuss the traces of
petechial haemorrhage?

Rap on about the relaxation of sphincter
muscles?

How long's she been dead?

Educated, Gare?

Um, yesterday.

What time, yesterday?

Yesterday. Rigor mortis just beginning
to go off. That means, what, at least 25

hours? That's it.

Was she electrocuted?

Unlucky if she was.

How come?

A lot of people can take 240 volts.

Walk away smiling.

Anything else?

No. Photography's finished in here,
Gare. Yeah, are you informing the

office? Yeah.

We're right for forensics this time.

Take your attention to that wire around
the bedstead.

Was he genuinely frayed or did somebody
fray it? Yeah, I got you.

Sorry. What about?

Not to be more help.

Don't give it another thought.

You don't believe me.

Not yet.

Ask him.

Go on, ask him.

He'll tell you.

You've been trying to grow a beard.

Why not?

What will he tell me?

Tell you never touched it.

Well, Marcos, go on, ask him.

Why not?

Can't.

Why?

I'm not sure anyone's going to ask him
anything.

Not ever again.

What time did you get home?

About 20 minutes ago.

Anyone verify?

How long was it before you called us? I
did it straight away.

The call was logged at 7 .11.

That's about right.

Why did you go in there? My lights had
fused.

You went for help.

Help? To mend a fuse? What are you, a
Bow Street runner?

So, why did you go in there?

The fuse box was in his kitchen. It's
always happening.

You had a key? Yes.

You own the other flat.

No, wish I did.

Who does?

Someone called Howard. Howard something?
Something Howard who's in America or

Africa or somewhere. Told me once he'd
flown a million miles. That's a lot of

chicken salad.

Isn't it? So, how come you have a key?

His pipe froze once. Flooded me out.

Seemed easier if I had one.

Maybe he just liked the idea of you
holding his key.

Maybe.

You... touch anything up there? No.

What about the phone? The phone, yes.

And the door? The door, yes. Well, I had
to get in, didn't I?

Anything else?

The curtains, they were pulled.

Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure. It was too dark to
see.

Was the door locked?

Yes, Yale. You just have to pull it
shut.

Who is she? You tell me.

Ever see her before?

Never. Is that yours?

Yes.

How come you only have one earring?

I took it off to answer the telephone.

Up there?

Yes. No, in... It's on the table.

So, when Mr. Howard's away, the flat is
empty?

Not usually. Not for long.

What does that mean?

It means the key lives on the shelf in
the garage.

Half of London seems to know about it.
Which half?

I don't understand.

What type of people?

You're not very imaginative, are you?

Well, I'm a copper.

I'm not paid to be imaginative.

What are you paid for?

Listen to people like you being
imaginative.

It's much more fun.

It's a lovely... A lovely old -fashioned
phrase. Yeah.

You've seen that Jack Lemmon movie?
China Syndrome.

No, years ago. What's it called?

About him and he has a flat and a key
and the key keeps going around the

The apartment. He's been in there
recently.

I don't know. I've been away.

Where? Milan.

Is it? Sort of.

What sort of business?

I'm a model.

You've got a job. You're earning
prospects.

What do they do with their lives?

Come on, Jackie.

Time to start thinking about yourself.

Dead?

Not yet.

Not officially.

Talk now before it comes to that.

Say the word murder, then.

Like a starting pistol, they fall over
themselves to talk.

Don't worry about them.

They won't worry about you, believe me.

You just tell me what happened.

They won't know it's me.

Who told you?

Oh, no.

Well, she had to get here somehow,
didn't she? Didn't come on a broomstick,

down off a cloud.

That means buses, taxis, minicabs.

There's a bus stop down on the parade.
Just outside the deli. She came by bus,

she had to walk up here. Maybe she's
done that a dozen times. Means someone

have seen her.

Came by car, she had to get out of the
car.

Taxis, taxis make people curious.

Never walked up a muse in my life
without some chauffeur being out there

his jam jar. Right, you two. House to
house. Off you go.

Jimbo.

These flowers.

Local Norris.

Greengrocers? Definitely.

A few straggly freeziers.

Now, what does that suggest to you?

Yeah, well, I'll tell you what it
suggests to me. It suggests to me that

wasn't any too flush.

Fair amount of bread in her handbag.
Maybe it was the other person, then, if

there was one.

A man?

Not necessarily.

Don't jump to conclusions. Keep an open
mind. It shouldn't be too difficult for

you.

In my dustbin.

So? So whoever put it there didn't know
which dustbin belonged to which flat.

Logical. What about the cork? No cork.

One thing's for sure. The dead woman
didn't put it in there.

Is that so sure?

After she was dead?

Unlikely. So how about before?

What?

Hmm. See what you mean?

A whole bottle of champagne for one
person?

Possible.

Unlikely, though.

We'll get it fingerprinted.

Mine will be on it somewhere.

We'll get yours done, too.

Do you ever drink at the Duke of
Clarence?

Why do you ask when you know the answer
already?

They're well briefed about you, aren't
they? Oh, yes.

Anyone sleeps tonight, it won't be our
fault.

You were saying about my friends at the
Clarence. I don't have to apologise or

explain. I don't want you to get the job
like any other.

I don't believe you. Don't. And if you
have no more questions... Time is money.

Beautifully put.

Hi, Jimmy.

All right. Watch out. You get a cough.

Clever girl.

Sir, what have you got here?

Sudden death.

Sat flex, no earth, frayed wire.

She switches on the bedside lamp. Pow.

Foster? Probably.

Suicide?

Murder? Don't know.

You don't know who she is?

That's it.

Listen to train times, buses,
stagecoaches. That's all we've got to go

Handbag? It's nothing much, isn't it?

Check books, credit cards. OK to look?
Sure.

Let's send.

Yes, for my blood.

That one station won't want us.

What's blood?

What about a cloak?

Any tailored tickets, makers' labels,
things like that? No.

What was she wearing?

A slip.

On the right way? Eh?

Inside out, right to front? No.

Laundry marks?

Who uses a laundry these days?

Who can afford one? Same thing.

Any distinctive jewellery? No.

She wasn't trying, was she? Really?

Wedding ring?

Yeah. Initials?

Plain gold band.

Just found this.

It's a midget suicide note.

Receipt from a wine shop.

Dated yesterday.

How much? 6 .25.

Oh, that bar.

Champagne. That was quick.

Where's the wine shop?

It's a branch down the road, opposite
the deli. Yeah. You'd better check it

Maggie. All the parts.

Yes. Now, tell me, lover, do you find
anything in any of the other dustbins?

Not yet.

Number of bones in the human body. 64,
103, 200?

206. Good.

Name the smallest blood vessel.

Capillary.

Breathing rate of a normal, healthy
human adult?

24 minutes.

18 to 20.

Where are the taste buds?

In the tongue.

Anywhere else?

No. Tongue and three places in the
throat.

Three. Name of the second layer of skin?

Dermot. Name of the girl you nipped off
to meet yesterday afternoon?

Oh, never known you'd be secretive
before.

Must be furious.

I don't want to talk about it, do I? You
must.

Well, what do you want to know, Peter?
Everything. Who is she? Do I know her?

When do I meet her?

What did you do?

Apart from the obvious.

When are you seeing her again?

Why do you bother with signs, Peter? I
mean, it's obvious where you're heading,

sonny. Poor old Nigel Dempster, he won't
know what's in.

Best form of defence.

What is? Attack.

You've finished your questions, haven't
you? Clinking off, posy of flowers,

ponced up with my aftershave. Can we get
back the quiz, Peter? I'll find out,

you know.

Next. Missing persons, still waiting to
hear.

Mental homes.

Fingerprints. Soon as the pathologist
gives the okay.

No checkbook, letters, library cards,
nothing like that?

No. Seems you went to some lengths not
to be traced.

Someone did it for her.

Yeah, what about these train trains?

A tan ticket in a coat pocket. Local
street, Bishop's, Storford.

Have it away, Dick.

I'll get the local factory to show her
photo around the Bishop's office

First thing we did, it's in the mill.
Someone must know her, don't they? Must.

Hello. Now, which one of those kids was
it? Was it Gary? One in the tracksuit?

Yes, slagged him with a cosh. What did
that tell you? What news from the wine

shop? She bought it yesterday. It was
champagne, you were right.

And she was in a taxi, and the taxi
waited outside.

Run a check on all the local taxi
drivers, particularly those operating

Liverpool Street. Will do. The man in
the shop said he thought she wasn't

What made him say that? Did he see
someone?

No, he didn't actually see anything.

He's psychic.

He thought that while he was wrapping
the bottle, she might have waved to

somebody out of sight. Might have waved?
His word.

He's cautious, isn't he?

He also said he thought she was nervous.

Thought? Thought.

He's a bit of a bloody thinker, this
one.

Well, why do you say that?

Just the way she behaved.

Glad Harry didn't want to stop and chat,
things like that.

Was he reliable?

So -so. 50 -ish, busybody, on about the
price of pain.

So she might not have been alone and she
might have been nervous. She was coming

here to electrocute herself.

That would make her nervous. I think she
wouldn't have come with somebody. If

she did.

Coming here to electrocute herself, she
wouldn't have stopped off to buy

champagne. Why not?

I mean, I don't know. If I was going to
pull the pin, I wouldn't say no to a

drop of Dutch courage.

Not champagne.

Why not? No, I agree. Why?

It's not wine.

Up? My red and white eye. Up and down?
Out and move. Oh, come on.

You mean some drinks you can cut your
throat through and others you can't?

Maggie's right.

Champagne, something to celebrate,
someone in the taxi.

Love nest. Your phrase.

Tended once he was coming here to get
laid.

Sorry.

Oh, it's all right. I've heard it before
somewhere.

0279. That's the Bishop's Stalford code.

OK, try it again, operator, please.

Fiona, something wrong with the phone?

I've been trying to reach you for hours.

Any word from Mrs Ryland?

Nothing.

No? OK.

If she gets back or calls in, I'll be in
the company flat later.

She has the number.

I'll ring you again in the morning.

Good night.

Yes, Brian?

What are you wearing?

Brown pants.

Seriously?

Skirt, Angora sweater, high heels.

Let's eat.

That's why I asked what you were
wearing.

Cafe Royale?

Etoile? Trader Vic's? What about the
ivy?

No. As I'm paying, you can look at me.

Anyway, I told you, he's bent.

But beautifully bent.

Book something for half past.

I'm going to have a wash.

Get this one, Corby.

Bad news.

Bit of a puzzle.

What is it?

It's my mother.

She'd done a bunk.

What?

Vanished. Gone up her own rope.

People don't just vanish.

She has.

When?

Two days ago.

Where? Nobody knows.

She drove off in her car.

Car's turned up in the car park at the
local station and she hasn't been seen

since.

What did the police say?

Nothing.

Why not? Dad hasn't told them.

That's a bit silly, Peter, isn't it?

Oh, he's like that.

Man of mystery.

Left hand hasn't seen his right in ten
years.

It's turning you back on the inevitable,
that, isn't it?

Well, it depends.

Temporary amnesia, something like that.

Don't want the big bad fuzz camped out
in your private life. Yeah, newspapers,

eh? And a cheap laugh for everybody with
10p in their pockets.

No, she's probably slipping her key in
the front door this very minute.

You don't sound that worried.

I'm not.

They're not Darby and Joan, you know.

A pair of human bookends.

Now, a few years back, my dad, well,
couldn't say for sure what continent he

in, never mind what country.

She could be lying dead in some ditch
somewhere, you know.

Could be a streak of northern optimism.

Yes, possible, though, isn't it?

Look, more likely she's caught my dad
with his hand up his secretary's skirt.

She's probably in Amsterdam having a
good sulk.

She'll come back with a facelift, a new
wardrobe, and it'll all be on his

diner's card.

That's the way they live.

It's your typical gin and tonic belt
marriage.

Oh, I know it's not like that in
Yorkshire.

Totten is in Yorkshire.

Are you coming with me to listen to
Forsdyke on the Miracles of the Middle

No, Peter, I think I'll leave that to
you. I've got to kill it by lunch, you

see.

Okay. See you later.

Yeah, see you. Oh, uh, should there be
any news?

Skip it. There won't be.

Have you read his statement?

How carefully?

Yeah, I'll tell you what I'm getting at.
It's what the school's called

educationally subnormal. I think it's
the proverbial, right?

Come in.

Yet he tells exactly the same story
three times, almost exactly the same

same expression, same vocabulary.

Stink like last month's fish.

Yeah, you do that, George, then give me
a bell, right?

Biffy? Heard it well, we heard.

I've just been talking to the yard. They
got an anonymous call, time 9 .47,

saying who she was.

And? Her name's Ryland. She's married or
worked with Ryan Rylands.

Rylands. Sort of minor league tycoon.

I've got him. Wasn't he in some sort of
money trouble?

So the papers say. He brought up a
defunct textile company with an office

Finsbury, sold it off. Where'd he baste?
The Barbican. And his home address, as

if you didn't know. Bishop Storford? Ten
out of ten. I think I can add something

to that.

First word on the PM was heart, induced
by electrical shock.

Did they say when?

Whence the afternoon.

Now, recently injected through particles
in stomach, undigested rice, granules,

bean shoot fragments, pork.

Chinese meal?

Exactly. Has he made love?

No. And the champagne?

Alcohol oxidizes rapidly in the system.
Within 24 hours of ingestion, we'll have

disappeared. Oh, get away.

Ten o 'clock in the morning already,
I've had a medical lesson. At all?

As of.

So, what do I do?

So, you get on your bike, check out Mr.
Ryland, do you? Right.

And, uh, take Inspector Croft with you?

Yes.

Yes.

Mrs. Ryland?

Yes?

What sort of help do you need?

Who? Your boss.

Mr. Rylands?

Aye, Mr. Rylands.

Pretty fit.

Jogs, diet, doesn't use the lift.

Well, not a lot.

All things in moderation.

I suppose.

Any history of heart trouble?

Not that I know of.

I'm only his secretary, you know. Only?

Did you know Mrs. Rylands was missing?

Yes, he told me.

Did he tell you why he hadn't called the
police?

Don't answer that.

What the hell is this?

Please.

Detective Inspector Forbes, Detective
Inspector Croft.

What do you want?

We have reason to believe that we found
your wife's body.

Body?

I'm afraid so.

Heart attack.

Where was it?

In a West End muse flat.

Any idea what she was doing there, sir?

When did you last see her?

I left her Wednesday, was it?

Everything normal.

Said she was doing some pruning in the
garden.

Who were you, sir? Wednesday afternoon
between two and five?

Oh, easy. I was with my bankers till
about seven. It would be hard to verify

that. Not at all. Why didn't you call
the police? Report her missing.

Inspector, it is, Inspector.

Collison leads are for dogs, not people.

I or my wife go off for two nights.
We're not missing persons. We've gone

for two nights.

You get my meaning?

Perfectly.

Is she all right?

Is your wife insured?

Yes, of course.

That's a hell of a sneaky question. Had
to be asked in religiously, rather by us

or the coroner. I didn't quite catch the
answer. You didn't catch it?

Yes,

she was insured. Well insured.

Satisfied? Life or accident?

Both, I imagine. Which company?

I don't remember. Ask my brokers. Linda
has the details. Do you remember who

benefits from her death? Oh, me. Who
else?

I wouldn't know.

Or maybe Peter asked Sam. I'm not sure.
Any idea of the sums involved?

A hundred, a hundred and fifty thousand.
I wouldn't know.

That's a lot of money. Some people.

Oh, I don't know. I reckon most folk
would say a hundred thousand was a fair

of money. Wouldn't you, Maggie? It was a
recent mental condition, sir.

What's that mean?

What would you say? For example, that
she was depressed.

Well, where's this heading?

Towards you answering whether or not she
was depressed.

No, no depression.

Had there been some sort of row? No.

Any social, financial worries? No.

Wasn't there something about you in one
of last Sunday's papers?

They're printing a retraction next
Sunday. Really?

Has she any cause to be disappointed by
anything?

No cause.

You wouldn't say she was of unsound
mind?

Don't. Talk rot.

You must remember, sir, that we didn't
actually have the benefit of knowing

Had she ever threatened suicide?

What's his name?

Croft.

C -R -O -F -T.

You want answers, you ask questions.

Do I have to identify the body?

Yes. Now?

Whenever you feel up to it.

Let's do it.

Yes, that's right.

I'm going out with these police
officers.

Cancel my lunch with Sir Alec. Usual
apologies.

I'll call him later this afternoon.

Yes, Mr. Ryder. Don't forget, you're...
Do I need my car?

Have this one.

It's her.

Would you like a moment alone?

You said a mute flat?

That's correct.

I'd like to see it.

Whenever you say.

Now.

Was she wearing lipstick?

No idea.

What clothes?

Oh, don't go coy on me.

Friend Croft will tell me, smacking his
lips as he does so. She was in a slip.

Full length slip.

That's all?

Who was with her?

Don't make you think she wasn't alone.
Oh, don't play games with me, please.

I'll repeat the question. Because it's a
knocking shop. That's why everybody

comes here has one purpose in mind.

How do you know that?

How do you think?

I've no idea.

Oh, dear God, because I used to come
here myself.

It's a lot grottier than I remembered.

You ever bring her here?

For a bright woman, that's a hell of a
silly question.

Well, I thought perhaps before you were
married.

So how does she know?

Puzzling, isn't it?

How many flats in London? Half a
million?

That's 500 ,000 to one. Long odds, isn't
it?

Very.

Are they the same book?

Why did you ask about the lipstick?

Very fussy person.

Always removed her lipstick before
making love.

And if she knew, which she obviously
did, she'd known for four years and

months. Very precise.

But the last time I came here, June, 75.

I brought a girl here.

It was the... the fag end of the
romance, the cold cuts, the scene where

say, I don't know how I'm going to live
without you. But from tomorrow I'm going

to try.

And while she was washing out the
handkerchiefs, I went to the cinema, the

classic on the corner.

Got back, there was a uniform bobby in
there, old helmet and notebook, the old

sleeping pills routine.

Dead? No.

She made a couple of calls first, left
the requisite number of clues.

The old place lost its charm after that.

Five years.

And she never breathed a word.

You solved that one for me, Inspector?

There was an awful item from the parade.
I expect it's gone by now.

Still going strong.

I used to pop in there.

To buy a bottle of champagne.

How did you know?

What any true romantic would do.

Who's paying?

For what?

For my time. I've been here half an hour
already.

I'm sorry, I did sound a bit...

If the number of behinds are getting a
seat in my cab, that's all I'm worried

about, mate.

You're being public -spirited, aren't
you?

I was.

And now I'm regretting it.

So you drove Mrs. Rylands to the flat?

Well, I drove the woman in the photo,
but it happens to be this here Mrs.

Rowlands, and that's who I drove.

All right, let's go through it first,
then we'll get it all down on paper, all

right? How long's that going to take?

Would you pick her up?

Where? Liverpool Street.

Did you stop anywhere on the way to the
flat?

Yeah, a wine shop. She went to buy
something.

$64 question. And then can I go?

Who was with her? Her son.

Son? Yeah, nice kid. 20, 20 -ish.

Why do you think it was her son?

Well, because I'm good at relationships.

I'm always doing it. Doing what?

Putting people together.

Matchmaking. Go on.

Look, I see four people on the park
bench, right? I pair them off.

Mr and Mrs Baker.

Mrs and Miss Butcher.

Happy families.

I can't remember broken on me, sir.

Do you hear him talking?

I got me mind on the road, haven't I?

Tell me one thing, next sec. I couldn't,
mate.

Right, names. What's she calling? I
don't remember.

All right, what'll he call her?

Bambi.

You sure?

Of course I'm sure. I'm not going to
make a mistake with a name like that.

Barbie.

It's the name of a deer.

You know.

Walt Disney.

Get away.

No, it's true.

They're mine of information, aren't
they?

Well, I meant to kiss me. I love them.

You got any?

No, you both.

I haven't met our old lady yet.

So why did you think it was her son, eh?

Well, they're ages.

And? And the way she behaved.

Like what?

Oh. She went into the shop.

She paid for the flowers. She was the
governor, you know what I mean?

Now, what if I told you that they were,
uh... Oh, leave it off. She was holding

up to be his mother.

That's still good -looking, though, eh?
As it happens, very tasty.

You wouldn't have minded getting a leg
over yourself.

Now, that depends.

On what?

On whose time it was in and who was
paying.

You've got a one -track mind, you know
that.

I've got a meter.

I like to hear it ticking.

It's like sweet music.

I'll grant you one thing, though.

Oh, don't do anything you'll regret. On
second thoughts.

Nothing like it.

I didn't think that much about mother
and son.

No? A bit too sort of, er,

larky, you know what I mean?

No, but you'll tell me.

It was a one -off.

Here. You ever smoke pot?

What's that got to do with it? I've seen
people smoking that stuff, mate. Can't

stop laughing.

Stupidest thing, busting their gut.

It was all a bit like that, says Adams.

Sort of unreal.

Philosophical cab driver.

God help us.

Can I go?

No. Why not?

No, we're going to put it all down on
paper.

Oh, yeah?

Well, I'll change my story. I never saw
her.

Yeah, damn it. And what if I don't?

I'll nick you for wasting police time.

Yeah. He was a Geordie. Who was? Jack,
the lad.

How do you know?

I heard him rabbiting.

Come on, you wouldn't know a Geordie
accent from a felt -tip pen.

Listen, do you like football?

A -pick. Well, you know the manager of
Southampton, that... Laurie Watson's

name. That's him.

He's a Geordie. Don't tell me he was in
the cabin or... Only his accent.

You describe him.

Time for my lunch.

I'll get you a sandwich.

I don't want a sandwich. I want to go
back to bleating work.

Description. It's time for my lunch.

All right.

Where do I start?

A bit like a grave digger. You start at
the top and work your way down to the

bottom.

That's you, presumably.

Gordon F. Hooper.

Private inquiries.

Yeah. That's me.

Different address, that's all. Some
disagreement about the payment or the

-payment of the rent.

Was there?

I don't remember.

I found your card amongst my wife's
papers.

I should have said my late wife.

Did you ever work for her, Mr Hooper?

Well, like it says here, discretion
guaranteed.

Even beyond the grave?

Well, a quarry agent has his ethics just
like anyone else.

Mind you, can't afford to...

Be too hidebound about these things, eh?

Gordon, F?

F as in flexibility?

Yeah. I mean, there's no sense in being
dog in the manger, eh? None at all. So

what's it cost, Mr Hooper, to gain your
cooperation?

Should we say... No, you say.

How about 200?

P?

P for pounds? 200 pounds for a couple of
questions.

Well, you know what they say.

The questions come cheap. It's the
answers that cost the money. I thought

nearer the mark.

Do you know I've lost a morning's work
answering your call? You're busy.

Very hectic.

According to Mr Ching, the
acupuncturist, you haven't had a client

What, old chinky -chonky? How would he
know? You share the same waiting room?

Yeah, but there's no carriage trade.

I mean, the phone never stops.

That's not what he said.

All right.

All right, live and let live.

Fifty.

When did you work for her?

Do you know, I think better sitting
down.

When?

Five years ago.

What sort of work? Domestic.

What's that mean? She thought you were
messing around.

Was I?

Matrimonially speaking, yeah.

What sort of things did you do?

Well, tailed you for a couple of weeks.

Daily reports.

Mind you, your lifestyle was a bit more
modest in those days.

My ship hadn't come in.

What sort of places did we go? Oh, dark
restaurants, bars.

Those sort of places.

Anywhere else? Mr Hooper?

Yeah.

He used to go to a muse flat over
Bicrawford Street.

There's a key in the garage.

Did my wife ever go there? Well, you
couldn't prove it by me.

Mind you, I took some photos for her.

Exterior or interior?

Both.

How did you get in?

Key. I mean, sauce for the goose.

Then what?

Well, the next thing I knew, there was a
check in the post.

I was paid off. Bob's your uncle.

You going to boo?

Buy a packet of blade, pay the girl,
walk out.

You think that's affected her?

Changed the course of her life?

Think she remembers you after you've
gone?

Shape of your face, colour of your hair?
No, of course not.

Same with me.

Doesn't touch me.

Never.

Do you think you're different, special?
Is that what you're saying?

The man with the golden... No.

The last time a man touched me was... Go
on.

Way back in the Midlands.

Another life.

You sure you're not kidding yourself?

When it's over, it's like nothing's
happened.

Niente.

So, what chance have you building a
proper relationship?

Sustaining it.

I don't want one.

What do you want?

Money. A lot faster than out.

That's all.

A little cottage in the Lake District.

A few roses round the door, a couple of
hens. Ah, boy, what I want is a

hairdressing salon.

Somewhere in West Bridgeford.

A nice corner site where women can't
pass without popping in for a shampoo

set. A crimper.

You know your trouble, don't you?

Tell me. You're a...

Am I? Yeah.

Or moody.

I meet your type all the time.

Type? Oh, I just love to be called a
type.

Someone's done a nice job on you.

Has she? Sliced them clean off.

All tough exterior.

But inside, you're just a cunt full of
Mr.

Salty.

How do you do it, hen?

Mm -hmm.

Yeah, hello.

Say that again.

Hold on.

Sheik from Bahrain wants you at his
hotel in 20 minutes.

Must we keep him waiting?

Must we?

Hello?

Speaking.

It was better enough her being found in
that place.

Even worse, it was broadcast all over
the newspapers.

She had friends, family, respectable
people. Well, this isn't police, Tracy.

we don't broadcast.

But isn't there something we can do to
help keep it under wraps? Mrs. X or

something? Well, there's nothing we'll
do to play it up. You can rely on that.

But surely if you don't tell them I was
her husband, no?

Sorry, not my province, Mr. Rylance.

Look, I'm asking a favour.

I'm saying there's nothing I can do.

Having to come here and ask at all, it
isn't easy.

I can imagine.

This is a sensitive time for me,
business -wise.

Highly sensitive.

Certain deals are in the pipeline.

They're contingent on lots of outside
factors. The point, Mr Rylance, please,

the point.

Surely, if we put our heads together, a
mutual cause of action, adequately

funded naturally.

Mr Rylance.

Your wife died in an unfortunate place
in unfortunate circumstances. That's my

point, unfortunate.

No one forced her to go there. Nobody
twisted her arms. She took a chance with

tragic consequences.

But like I say, if we put our heads
together, the two of us,

I know it would cost money.

Mr. Rylands, forgive me for being slow,
but you're not trying to bribe me, are

you? Of course not.

No.

I'm just saying that Barbara the name...

could be kept out of this.

I don't know how, but I know it can be
done, and I'm asking you to tell me how.

The harder you work at trying to conceal
a name, suppress it, greater the chance

someone picking it up, giving it a puff.

Take my advice, leave it. Let it take
its natural course. Natural course.

the best you can do. Yeah.

God help us.

Bambi, was that a nickname for your
wife?

How the hell did you know? Was it?

When I first met her, she was kicking
around with somebody else.

He called her Bambi.

I didn't.

I didn't like it or him.

Anybody else use it?

Nobody.

To my knowledge, the name hasn't been
used in, what, 20 -odd years.

I see.

What are you doing here, Maggie?

I'd ask you the same.

There were two people here.

We knew that.

Forensics say there was dust on
everything in the kitchen except for the

wine glasses.

And the champagne.

Place is all leet.

Identical to that on the tea towel.

So whoever he was must have left after
she was dead.

Yeah, I was wondering about that.

Well, say they'd come here to screw.

Reasonable assumption.

They'd drink the champagne and get in
the sack, wouldn't they? I'd have

But they didn't make love.

The pathologist was clear on that.

So she was electrocuted before they got
round to it. Well, they changed their

minds. She changed her mind. Now I can
hear the dialogue. I'm sorry, darling, I

can't go through with it. I thought I
could, but I can't. Oh, I think I'm

to be sick. Stop while you're ahead.
It's too realistic.

I've heard it all.

Strange couple.

Break off on the verge of making love to
wash up a couple of wine glasses.

Isn't it?

So maybe he washed up after she was
dead.

Maybe.

What's the photo fit like of the boy?

Crossed between Anna Ford and Terry
Savalas.

Well, that should give us something to
work on. Well, say she was on the bed.

He'd be where?

In the kitchen. In what?

They've had a couple of glasses by now.

So, he's away.

She starts to worry about getting back.

So she pulls out the envelope with the
train times.

Now, it's dark over there. The old
minces aren't what they were, so she

on the light. Bingo.

OK, I'll go along with that.

Next question.

What sort of creep is it that'd walk out
on her?

What sort of animal is that?

Very young and very frightened.

You'll be able to make the funeral, all
right.

Of course.

You haven't said much about it.

I wasn't sure if you wanted to talk.

It's a method, a thinking method.

Cuckold it over a newspaper in town.

If you read them, they don't actually
say anything. They don't have to.

I can't believe it.

I'll never see her again.

I think about something else for a
minute and I keep coming back to it.

I can't believe it.

You should have been with me at the
mortuary.

Thank God I wasn't.

Pete, you and Barbara were pretty close.

We had our fights. I can't pretend
otherwise.

But we had 22 years on the clock, so it
can't have been that bad.

Very tolerant lady.

Very.

You finished?

Yes.

Yes, Mr. Ireland.

Clear the table, if you would, please,
Linda.

Yes, Mr. Ireland.

Do you mind if I smoke?

No, of course not.

Would you like coffee?

Coffee, please.

Please, love some.

By the way, the bank called to confirm
they'd put a stop on your cheque made

to Gordon F Hooper.

Good girl.

She ever give a clue she was seeing
anybody?

Meeting anyone?

When did you last talk to her?

She came up.

Sunday before last.

Remember, you were in Marbella.

Waste of time, that was.

She took us out to lunch.

Us? John and me.

John? The guy I share with.

A good lad.

One of your sort.

A worker.

Yes, Dad.

You think all this put itself together?

You can't buy much with brass washers.

You ever hear Barbara call herself
Bambi?

No. Glad I didn't.

She'd known about the flat for years.

I'll never breathe a word.

What kind of a woman's that?

Too late to find out now.

Reliable source?

Highly. OK, leave it with me.

Oh, by the way, as regards Mrs Rylance,
it's now...

officially a domestic situation,
accidental death, etc., we're finished

Fair enough.

Before we finally drop it... Why do you
look at me like that?

Got to you, is it?

Not really.

There's just one thing I'd like to do.

What's that? I'd like to talk to the
son, Peter.

He's already given a statement? No, not
to me.

Why?

I think he may want to tell us
something.

Something he learned since yesterday.

How long?

Ten minutes there, ten minutes with him,
ten minutes back.

An hour.

Night.

You hear about Williams?

No. He turned the cue card over. He's in
UCH.

They think he might lose a leg.

Oh, God, how awful. The phone is rife.
Maggie.

About the Rylands job. It's closed.

I know. Russell told me.

I just wanted to say that I'd enjoyed
working here with you.

Pleasure.

I know we didn't hit it off to start
with, but we all make mistakes.

That's gracious of you.

Anyway, I thought perhaps we could have
supper one evening and bury the hatchet.

The only place I'd like to bury it is in
your skull.

Forgive and forget. I'll work with you,
Croft, because I have to.

What I do in my spare time is my own
business.

That I'm choosy about.

Come in.

Peter Ryland's in.

No, not at the moment. Do you want to
come in?

Thank you.

What were you expecting? You didn't say
anything.

No, not really.

Are you psyched?

Only by force of circumstance.

Souvenir?

What? Don't know your name, do I?

John. You?

Maggie. Maggie.

Detective Inspector Maggie Forbes.

How could you do it?

Do what?

Walk out and leave her.

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

How long do you think it would take
fingerprint to prove we were in that

Did you remember to wipe all the
surfaces?

The wine glasses?

The champagne bottle? All the work
surfaces in the kitchen?

She was dead.

There was nothing anyone could have
done.

So you just walked out?

Came home?

If I'd stayed, it would have been worse.
How?

For her.

What we were doing there and all that
would have come out.

Do you think this is preferable?

For her, yes.

You sure?

I thought it was the best, honestly.

When I go off with some lad, I hope he's
more gallant than you are.

I was scared, I admit it. I was
terrified. I believe you.

I went in the kitchen to get a cloth.

Some champagne had been spilled.

And then the lights went out. Bang!

I came back in the room.

She was dead.

One minute she was telling a...

Telling me something about Chinese food.
You'd eaten Chinese for lunch?

Yeah.

How do you know?

Go on.

She was laughing.

Talking.

And next minute, next second, she's
dead.

You didn't think to call an ambulance?

She was dead.

I felt for her pulse. There was nothing.

You could have called an ambulance and
then voted. I could, yeah. I could have

done a lot of things, couldn't I? I ran.

I literally ran.

I jumped in the bus.

I sat there and I still couldn't believe
it.

I even went to a church. It was
pathetic.

And you share rooms with her son?

Yes, that's how I met her. It was a
sorry day for her. She was dead.

End of great romance, great passion. I
loved her.

Oh! You've got all that love?

You were on to a good thing, sonny boy.

Always learned to ride on an old bike.
It's a lousy thing to say. You deserved

something better. At least you deserved
a man. You're dead, lifeless.

What is the matter? It's irrelevant,
man.

You know, a year or so ago, I was having
trouble with a car.

Friday car story of my life.

I was in the garage, waiting to see how
long it would be, and a mechanic working

on another car electrocuted himself.

Trickle charger.

Dead.

Spark out.

Two of his workmates picked him up,
rushed him over to the local hospital.

Doctor and solicitor in casualty gave
him mouth -to -mouth resuscitation,

thumped him on the chest, etc., etc.

He serviced my car last week.

She was dead.

So was he.

I mean, really, Ted.

You keep telling yourself, John.

Just keep telling yourself.