All language subtitles for Silk.2011.-.S03E05.-.The.Real.McCoy.Part.1.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.x265.Ghost_track3_[eng]

Brave, strong, surrounded by
men, saying no to all of them.

Whose are these?

Came for you, miss.
Grateful client, maybe?

All right, Mar? I was
passing and I thought,

"What happened to the girl
that broke my teenage heart?"

Who was that? Mr. Mysterious?

Sean McBride.

You give me what I want
and I'll give you what you want.

I'd like to make an official
complaint... against Billy.

I will not take lectures
in chambers politics

from a man who took
backhanders from Micky Joy,

the most corrupt
solicitor of all time.

Look, come on, Clive.
Nobody's listening.

- You don't think I'd be honest with you?
- I wouldn't believe you.

What's he look like,
then, Flower Man?

- Tall, dark...
- Northern.

Ready?

OK.

Sorry, can you... stop? Please.

Hello? Stop it.

Can you stop, please?

Sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm so...

Hello, Sean.

Are you OK?

Don't drink it.

Mr. Lamb?

Please come with me, sir.

Bastard looked at his
watch. At his watch!

It's a flat rate for police
station attendance,

so it doesn't matter how long
you're there, money's still the same.

So even though you're
a really big murder,

there is no incentive
for him to stay.

- He said to go no comment.
- No comment halves interview time.

Now, did you go no comment?

No.

Bananas are a
working-class fruit.

Did you know that?

What is all this, Micky?

Empire food, by the
boatload, for the masses.

Let 'em eat bananas.

I don't know about you,

but out on my cliff edge, I
feel alive for the very first time.

- How do you know about me?
- I've been taking an interest.

You read Dickens?

No? Then get a bloody move on.

It amazes me, the
complacency of our species.

"We're here for ever,"
people seem to think.

"I'll just have another
quiet pint and a doze."

What are you doing?

What are you all doing?!

Technically, I'm on bail.
It's just I can never leave.

So anything I want, I get.

Apart from vitamin D. But then me
and sunshine never did get along.

I've even got Blu Tack for
sticking up the Virgin Mary.

You're a grass.

A supergrass.

Mm.

All those years defending all those big
criminals and now you're grassing 'em up.

It's an interesting
career change.

You want an Unclaimed Baby?

That's what they were called before the
Great War, then Peace Babies for a bit,

then, finally, Jelly Babies.

Why am I here, Micky?

What, Sean?

I lied.

- What about?
- A gun.

People lie for all
sorts of reasons.

Doesn't necessarily
mean that they're guilty.

I panicked.

I haven't panicked about anything
in my entire life, not even in Afghan.

Not even when I fell head over
heels in love with Martha Costello.

We have this kind of
rule at the Criminal Bar.

Never represent a friend.

And here's me thinking
we're more than just friends.

Yeah, and that was all,
what, over 20 years ago?

Feels like yesterday.

That kiss. You know the one.

So bloody amazing.

We stepped off the curb and the
night bus missed us by about six inches.

I could have died
then and there.

We both could have died.

You whispered in my ear,
"I've died and gone to heaven."

Now, you were a piece
of work, Sean McBride.

I share a cell with a man
who stares at me all day.

Never blinks. Doesn't speak,
not a word Just staring and staring.

Then when he goes
to sleep, he shouts.

He... He shouts
all night, Martha.

Are all barristers as
good as each other,

or are there some you wouldn't
wish on your worst enemy...

- Sean...
- ..and what if I get one of them?

What if they get their first
murder and they're hopeless?

Could that happen to me?

I didn't do this, but
it looks like I did.

You know the thing about prison?
Nobody thinks you're innocent.

And everybody thinks
I killed Jimmy Monk,

and the Monk family are like
the biggest crime family ever

so every second I'm in
there I'm fighting to stay alive.

But if I get 20
years, I can't survive.

If I get a life
sentence, I'm dead.

- Sean, I...
- I can't even drink a cup of tea

because it might be poisoned.

I need you, Martha.

Con, miss?

Sort of.

You?

Do you believe in
heaven and hell?

I believe in a big-bang
beginning to the universe.

Before the big bang?

Well, if it WAS God,

then my cross-examination
will start with,

"Why wait four billion years

"after creating something
so, well, infinitely big,

"to tell a small tribe in the Middle
East not to covet each other's oxen?"

Ha-ha!

I'm afraid she won't be available,
um... for the next three or four months.

- He's grown into his shoes.
- Hmm.

Oi! Get over here!

Sorry, can I call you back,
please, sir? Cheers. Bye.

Never walk past Martha
Costello, no matter how big you get.

- Hmm.
- Never, ever walk past this lady.

Got that?

Hello, miss.

- Jake.
- That's better.

Now, on your way.

Normally it would be
Billy I'd give this to, but...

It's my application
to join chambers.

Thank you.

You think I should wait until
the business with Billy is over?

No, I didn't say that.

I mean, if I lose, I'm the people who
made up allegations of sexual harassment,

and chambers won't want me,

and if I win, I'm the people
who did for Billy Lamb

and chambers won't want me.

I might as well apply now,
for all the chance I've got.

The pupil with the guts to stand
up to the man twice her age,

even if it jeopardises
her chances

of having the career she
sacrificed everything for.

Principle and justice
over self-interest.

I'd want someone
like that in chambers.

- He, er... He asked me to represent him.
- And you said no?

- Clive.
- I'm late for court.

You have history with
him. It's a conflict of interest.

Who's going to be the judge in
my sexual harassment hearing?

Alan Cowdrey's Head of Chambers until
we elect a new one, but he's a fair man...

- Who's known Billy for 20 years.
- Don't crack now, Amy.

You stand up to him. You've
got lots of people on your side.

And a witness.

You've been following Martha Costello
around for the last week, haven't you?

Come with me. I'll
show you the other side.

- Billy?
- Harriet?

I've been thinking, maybe you should
take some time off before your hearing.

Why?

- Well, you seem a bit...
- What?

I'm just trying to help.

- Are you?
- We'd be fine without you.

Wouldn't we, John?

Shall we ask someone
what the law is?

Miss?

A quick question.

Is an accused man guilty until proven
innocent, or is it the other way round?

No, that's not what
I'm talking about.

Is the burden of proof on me to prove that
Miss Saigon is making a false allegation?

Maybe you can help the lady
from Amnesty International

with a few basic
human-rights principles?

You've always bullied your
way out of things, haven't you?

Bully women.

If they complain,
bully them some more.

Well, the things I've seen,
the bullies I've known,

you don't even come
close to intimidating me.

You have to tell people.

No.

No testosterone, no sex drive.

So what kind of harassment is it
when the harasser hasn't got any?

I can't, miss.

Why not?

You told me.

You know, for someone without the male
hormone, you're behaving very like a man.

I wasn't harassing her.

Forget about what I've
got and no testosterone.

It wasn't sexual.

You were just
being a senior clerk.

Yeah, and you're the only one round
here who seems to understand that.

And what does that mean?

- You have to represent me.
- Ah, no. No, no.

- Well, no-one else can.
- Look, I... I know too much. I can't.

You have to, because you
understand me like no-one else,

and because if I lose
and they kick me out...

..I'm dead.

- How is she?
- Terrified.

Four years on a fight, three if
he pleads. He's pleading, right?

- Hello, Clive.
- So?

We're listed for trial and
that's what we're doing.

Why don't you do your job?

- My instructions are...
- He sexually abused a 12-year-old girl.

The evidence is
as strong as it gets.

So go downstairs, be a proper barrister
and tell him he's pleading guilty.

- We've just been downstairs...
- Sorry, um... I've forgotten your name.

- Nick Pellegrini.
- Did you know it was me that

was prosecuting
when you spoke to him?

- No.
- So go and tell your self-pitying paedo

that if he maintains a not-guilty
plea and this goes to trial, I'll kill him,

and when I say I'll kill
him, I mean I'll kill him.

He will never recover from what
I do to him in cross-examination.

- Pleading?
- Yes.

But he wants you to leave
out the level-four laptop stuff.

Of course.

Of course he does.

People get credit
for pleading guilty.

Paedophiles, people who
sexually abuse children,

and don't plead guilty until three minutes
before a jury is due to be sworn in,

don't deserve credit,

particularly if, over a number
of years, they have downloaded

some of the most repellent
pornography I have ever seen in any case.

"Level four" barely covers it.

I expressly said he
was pleading guilty

on the basis that you left
out the level-four downloads.

You told me what he
wanted. I chose to ignore it.

Well, that's not how it works,
as you bloody well know.

We had a conversation,
counsel to counsel...

Do you want to go back
in and tell the judge?

Maybe we can have a trial just
on the disgusting pornography.

- He has a right...
- You do what he did to young children,

you surrender every
right to everything.

I think there are
grounds for appeal.

I agree.

Oh, right.

I'm not sure four
years is enough.

Plenty of people come to the
Criminal Bar and choose to defend

so that they can fight for the
downtrodden and the damaged.

You want damaged?
There's damaged.

Thank you.

Who's on the side
of the angels today?

Nick Pellegrini?

Martha Costello?

Thank you.

Some barristers get smoothed
out by overexposure to bad things.

I mean, they see so much of it, they
forget how bad it is and how to feel.

Not me.

Two things.

Yes?

There are a series of these prosecutions,
19 in all, every one as bad as this.

Right, good.

And the second thing?

Are you free this evening?

I'll call you.

19 white-ribbon
briefs for Clive Reader.

You trying to wind me up?

- It's good work.
- It's prosecuting.

And Clive's very good at it.

300 years of clerking,
sirs have always been sirs.

Misses have always been misses.

You come along, and "sir" turns
into a first name all of a sudden.

What do we put that
down to? I'll tell you, shall I?

Massive disrespect for history.

If there's one thing I learned
from my time working for Amnesty,

it's a massive
disrespect for history

and an equally massive disrespect for
people with too much respect for history.

Let's have a drink, shall we?

- Soon. Just you and me.
- OK.

Clive.

Clive asked me to look
at something for him.

Did he, now? What
did he get yesterday?

Four years.

- About right?
- Drug mules get 12 or 13.

- Who was the CPS solicitor?
- Nicola.

Why are you smiling?

They were very
flirtatious, Nicola and Clive.

Mm, well, he's like that with
everyone. If in doubt, flirt.

Yeah, yeah, but...

What?

Are you good at reading
sexual signals, Amy?

Look.

Billy isn't himself
at the moment.

Now, I know him really well, and he
wouldn't do a thing like that, believe me.

But he did.

- Amy...
- What am I supposed to do, Martha?

It's the truth.

I thought I could rely on you.

Oh, er... thank
you for yesterday.

I learned a lot.

So.

Did he do it?

Our Sean?

He owns three clubs in
Manchester. They're a success.

So he wants to repeat
that success in London.

He makes an announcement saying that
he's opening a new club in King's Cross

and calling it The Electric, which is
the name of his biggest Manchester club.

So it seems a bit
like world domination?

Two days later, Jimmy
Monk visits him in Manchester

and tells him to keep out
of the London club scene.

Jimmy tells him that the
Monk family want payment

for allowing him even to exist in the
Manchester scene, let alone London.

- Protection money?
- By any other name.

The Monk family don't want some
Northern upstart treading on their toes

so Jimmy and his goons slap Sean
about a bit, because they're like that.

And Sean's left feeling
angry and humiliated?

Three months later, he's arrested
for the murder of Jimmy Monk

in a Heathrow hotel room.

His prints are in the room and
he's on the CCTV entering the hotel.

The timing fits.

- Weapon?
- No gun found.

Well, that's the evidence, but you
still haven't answered my question.

Did Sean McBride put a gun to Jimmy Monk's
head and pull the trigger? Yes or no?

No.

What was he doing when
he came to see you that time?

What do you mean?

Well, it would have been
after Jimmy roughed him up

but before the
date of the murder.

Why don't you just
spit it out, Clive?

- How long had he not seen you for?
- I don't know.

Are we talking five
years? Ten years?

Then all of a sudden he's down in London
schmoozing the only lawyer he knows?

We're old friends.

Hmm. Bit more than
that, by the sounds of it.

By the sounds of... Sorry, what
do you mean, by the sounds of it?

You'd have said no to an old
friend, but you said yes to him,

cos you had a bit of whatever round
the back of the Hacienda last century.

You... You're practically a
witness and you're representing him.

You're jealous.

- I need someone to represent me.
- No.

- It's just...
- It's Billy.

Yeah, but...

- You wouldn't ask Martha, would you?
- I would have, but I can't.

- Why not?
- Because she's representing Billy.

Er... miss? It's the CCTV from
the hotel, the McBride case.

- Wow, that was quick.
- Well, we've got both briefs in chambers.

What? Who?

- Miss Warwick.
- CW's prosecuting Sean?

- What do you think?
- I think I'm better-looking.

- It's definitely him.
- Well, we're not saying it's not.

Well, the fingerprints in the room kind
of make your mind up for you on that one.

Yeah, but why would he talk to her
if he's about to murder somebody?

- I mean, why would he do that?
- You could read it as cold-blooded.

He's not cold-blooded.

Sean McBride. Solicitor's
had a bail app listed.

- When?
- He forgot to tell us.

- When, John?
- Two o'clock.

- I'm across the road at two.
- Yes, miss. Sorry, miss.

- Well, I'm free. I'll do it.
- It's half 12 now, sir.

It's fine. Miss Costello's
got me up to speed.

Thank you.

- I'm just popping down to Woolwich.
- Why?

McBride bail-out.

- Defending, Clive?
- Helping chambers out.

McBride.

- You want to be careful, sir.
- Why's that? We...

I wouldn't be in a room
with a psycho like McBride.

By the way, are you for real?

Sorry?

Bailing a gangland murder?

- Gangland?
- Well, what would you like me to call it?

Psycho nightclub owner with strong
interest in guns and killing people

murders youngest
brother in biggest criminal

outfit in North
London? Is that better?

Killing PEOPLE?

Two tours in Afghanistan.

- Where's Martha?
- Busy.

She can't just drop
everything for a bail-out.

- What's she doing?
- Let's talk about you.

- Now, were you at the hotel?
- Can we get rid of him?

- What?
- I don't trust him.

- He's fine.
- He's not fine. He's overdoing it.

- He's just coming down.
- He's not coming down from anything.

He's here to listen
to what I say to you.

- Aren't you? Aren't you?!
- Hey! Hey!

Hey, look! Look!
He's the real thing!

Take your shirt off.

- Where's the wire, Sean?
- I don't trust him.

Hello? I need time
alone with my client.

I was at the hotel. Turned over
the first protection money payment.

- How much?
- Three grand.

Right, so you flew to
Heathrow to hand over £3,000.

I... I didn't fly. I drove.

Right, I waited in the
hotel at the agreed time.

Jimmy didn't show
up, so I left. It's simple.

Can you get me bail?

People on a murder
charge don't get bail.

Martha said it was worth a shot.

Yeah, well, she's a
big hit with the clients.

What does that mean?

Well, Martha's one of
the world's great optimists.

Clients like to be told
they're going to win.

It would be a miracle if I got you
bail under these circumstances.

All parties for
the Lakin case...

So, here's the equation.

If I'm gonna represent you
against Billy, it has to be worth it.

Sorry? I don't understand.

Are you any good? Can
you cut it at the Criminal Bar?

Right.

So, are you gonna tell
me what you're here for?

Erm... yes, yeah.

A... A pit bull tied up outside a
shop on Kentish Town High Street,

and a Spinone goes past.

Spinone?

Italian hunting dog.
She's called Lottie.

She's got like a... a beard
and huge feet and just...

Anyway, er... the pit bull,
he goes mad, he breaks free,

and he clamps his jaw
onto Lottie's back end.

Now, all of this is incredibly
shocking. There's blood everywhere.

Lottie doesn't utter a sound.

She just stands there,
bleeding and... and hopeless,

waiting to die and...

- Miss Lang?
- Hang on.

- What next? Who are you representing?
- Er... sorry. I have to go.

Mr. Reader?

I'll come in and see you!

The defendant lied.

- About?
- His gun.

He said he didn't own one.
We have evidence that he did.

Mr. Reader?

No gun was found.

There is no murder weapon.

Detective Chief Inspector Fitzpatrick
chooses to call the defendant,

and I quote, "a psycho".

I'm going to give him the contact details
of one or two mental-health charities,

who would like to have a word with
him about this kind of casual stigmatising.

This is a man who served his
country in Afghanistan with distinction,

and vehemently
denies this allegation.

He wouldn't want to skip bail

because he's desperate to stand
trial so that he can clear his name.

And just in case you
were thinking of deciding

that the defendant needed to be
remanded in custody for his own safety,

you and I both know, although the
world likes to pretend that it isn't true,

that prison is the least
safe place he could be.

I'm going to retire to
consider my decision.

All rise.

- What the hell do you call that?
- What?

- The "psycho" business.
- He said it. Ask him.

He's entitled to think that he can say
things in private that remain private.

- It was a casual remark.
- Betraying the real man underneath.

What gave you
the right to say that?

You've known him for two minutes
and you've seen into his soul?

- You're really angry with me?
- Yes, of course I'm really angry with you!

Yeah, but deeper than
that, you're frightened.

Frightened?

Bail in a murder?

Imagine how embarrassed
you'd be. You'd need a big drink.

How many?

What?

- You were a sniper?
- Yeah.

How many Taliban?

- Nine hits.
- Maybe don't use that word in court.

All rise.

Whatever happens, thanks.
That was done properly.

I have considered the
arguments of Mr. Reader.

In my judgment, the defendant
should remain in custody.

Bail is refused.

What would Shoe Lane look like, a
week after Billy Lamb leaves this life?

Like a clerks'
room full of clerks.

I'm after something
more than legacy.

- What's that?
- Atonement.

Also known as
grassing people up.

Atonement means a lot more

than the codes of honour that
bad people make for themselves.

Grassing up bad people is good.

Not grassing up bad
people is lawyering.

Huh!

There are no
grasses in hell, Billy.

So what do you
want from me, then?

Martha Costello.

Why?

- She thinks I'm the devil.
- So?

I want to show
her who I really am.

Why?

- I love that girl. You know that.
- I know you do.

And you want to look after her.

Trust me.

I've got all her best interests
right next to my heart.

My client was sitting
in the window of a cafe,

working on his laptop, when
he saw what was happening.

He knew what he had to do.

He ran into the kitchen,
he grabbed what he needed,

he sprinted across the road

and he stuck a kitchen
knife into the pit bull's side.

He told me it was the
hardest thing he's ever done.

Now Lottie was free, but
she collapsed in the road.

Two police cars and
four police officers arrived,

and what did they do?

They refused to
take Lottie to the vet,

basically because they didn't
want her blood in their car.

At which point my
client got upset.

He forgot that he
still had the knife,

and that he was covered
in the blood of two dogs,

and he shouted at them, that they would
be responsible for her death if she died.

They arrested him under
the Public Order Act.

My client wants me to say that
he's not sorry for what he's done,

he'd do the same again
tomorrow, and that he used

to respect and trust the police
force, but he doesn't any more.

He wonders why back-seat
upholstery is considered more important

than the life of
an Italian Spinone.

Thank you, Miss Lang.

Stand up, please.

I'm going to deal with this by
way of a conditional discharge.

Stay away from big knives and
it'll be the last you hear of this.

Thank you.

How is Lottie?

Er... she's alive and well and
walking around happily on three legs.

Clive, the election.

Head of Chambers.

It's a three-way tie, my
polling tells me. 15 votes each.

- When are we deciding on Amy?
- Next week.

- Before the election?
- And before Billy's harassment hearing.

- So she'll have a vote?
- Yeah.

I thought you were
brilliant in court today.

Listen, I've been thinking,

it's only fair that, if Billy has a
silk representing him, so do you.

- You didn't tell me about the gun.
- How was he?

- He likes me better than his blonde brief.
- Hmm, very funny.

He's good at killing
people, though.

Nine dead men, Mar.

- That's different.
- Well, yes and no.

Shooting someone isn't easy, but the
more you do it, the easier it becomes.

Like it or not, call it what you
want, he's a professional killer.

Hmm. I've got work to do.

Jumpy as hell.

- It's an insult!
- Look, as you so rightly pointed out,

you are innocent
until proven guilty.

You're entitled to carry on your life as
normal until the hearing and so is Amy.

Part of that life is
chambers deciding

whether or not she should
become a member forever.

Agreed?

Good.

You're trying to take Clive
Reader away from me.

You won't do it, and sleeping
with him won't get him either!

- What did you say?
- You heard!

I've seen you fiddling with
your hair when you talk to him,

giving it the old
Diana doe eyes.

And what about qualities like
being hard-working and intelligent?

Can women have those, Billy?

And what about you? Let's
do your so-called good parts.

What are they?

Sentiment. Loyalty.

The two most overrated
human qualities,

and the big thing
about both, always male!

I'm not...

a man!

I'm a senior clerk.

Yeah, it's Lamb.

William Lamb, I'm
ringing for my test results.

Yeah.

Sorry.

No, no.

Do you like boxing, sir?

That's Jake.

What's he doing?

He can't... Can he?

Yes, he can.

Come on, my son!

Go on!

Sean McBride wonders whether
you will work alongside Miss Costello.

Seems he liked
your bail application.

I told the solicitor, two
silks, it just wouldn't happen.

No.

Be like Federer and Nadal playing
doubles. Just wouldn't happen.

- No.
- No.

Not even if one of the silk needs
protecting from her dangerous client,

and our senior clerk is
happy for it to happen,

so happy that he might
forgive the other silk

for arguing that he's
a sexual predator.

Which one of us is Federer?

Well, guile and grace, no sweat, no
grunts? I'd say you were Roger, sir.

Ready, guys?

- Come on, Jake!
- Go on, Jake!

That's it, into him!

Go on!

Ooh, yes! Ooh!

Yes!

Go on! Go on, son!

Yes, Jake! Good boy!

Come on! He's done it.

- Hello?
- He's done it! Well done!

Yes!

Whoo-hoo!

Fantastic.

Yes, my son.

Go on!

Yes!

Go on, my son.

Yeah, erm... Billy Lamb.

Yeah.

Yeah, sure. 2nd June, 1969.

Right.

Right.

Thank you.

Sure.

No, I'll be fine. Er... yes.

I'm with someone.

Bloody hell.

Why would you do that?

You and she up against each
other for Head of Chambers

and you're being her junior.

- I'm not her junior.
- Course you are.

Do you know what I think?

I think you've been half in
love with her since you met.

You're wrong.

It's my job to know
everything about you.

- Everything?
- Everything.

The closer I get, the more I
know, the better I can look after you.

How much closer?

You're working.

- What?
- You just looked at your phone.

Me, your phone...

it's all in a day's work.

I don't think so.

Hello?

John?

What is it?

Er...

there's, um...

..a clash

in the diary.

Is that why you got
me back from the pub?

The pub?

You're turning
into a real clerk.

Was he your first?

- What?
- Toxic cocktail.

First love revisited.

What are you saying?

If you get him off, will
you be getting off with him?

The word from all the
coppers is that he did it.

Not the case, not the
evidence, the actual word.

Just so you know.

Afghanistan.

Eight shots. 300
metres. 350, maybe.

That range, you have
to aim a tiny bit high,

because the trajectory of the bullet
has a small downward curve in it

so the focus is all on
the execution of a shot.

It's not about
another human being.

There were nine, weren't there?

The ninth was a firefight.

Usual mayhem. I found myself in
a drainage ditch and there he was.

15 feet away. Him or me.

What was it like?

His weapon jammed,
so he ran at me.

He nearly got to me, but...

Not like sniping?

Blew his face off.

At that range, you know...

I try not to think about it.

I'll see you upstairs.

Martha?

I didn't do this.

A planned killing in cold blood.

A single gunshot through the back
of the head, just behind the left ear.

We say this man was forced
to kneel down on the carpet

and was shot from
behind by a trained killer

who knows about the
science of killing people.

That killer, the
evidence will show...

..is Sean McBride.

Well, Jimmy Monk came into
the club with these three big fellas.

Erm... Sean, he was out the
back, but then he came through.

What happened?

Jimmy said he liked the club, but
he should stay away from London.

- Did Sean respond?
- He laughed.

One of them got a hold
of Sean round the neck,

and the other two
gave him some slaps.

Slaps?

Actual slaps with
the palm of the hand.

I... I think they just wanted
to make him feel stupid.

What was Jimmy Monk doing?

He was smiling,

and he said he wanted money in return for
allowing the Manchester clubs to carry on.

Was there any further contact
between Sean and Jimmy?

Yes.

Er... Sean gave him a call.

Did you hear what Sean said?

He was arranging to meet Jimmy.

- Where?
- A Heathrow hotel.

Just Jimmy?

He was very insistent
that it be just Jimmy.

They agreed the date and the location
for the meeting and ended the call.

How did he seem after the call?

Er... he was pumped
up. You know, excited.

Did he say anything to you?

He said it would be
like going out on patrol.

What did he mean?

Afghanistan.

Did Sean McBride own a gun?

- Yes.
- Can you describe it?

Er... a pistol.

With a... like a red
stripe on the handle.

- Where did he keep it?
- A drawer in the office.

Where is the gun now?

- I don't know.
- Did you look for it?

- Yes.
- When?

When he was down in London
for the Jimmy Monk meeting.

You checked on the gun?

It was gone.

What did you do when Jimmy and his heavies
were slapping your best friend around?

Nothing.

- Why not?
- I couldn't.

- Were you restrained?
- No.

- Were you scared?
- Yes.

- And what were you scared of?
- Jimmy and his heavies.

- Why?
- They're hard men.

Did you offer to go with Sean
to the meeting at Heathrow?

No.

- Why not?
- Same reason.

Fear?

Sorry, could you speak up?

Yes.

Sean went to Heathrow to make a
protection money payment to Jimmy Monk?

I don't know.

And Sean being nervous the night before,
well, that's hardly surprising, is it?

I mean, you'd
have felt the same,

if you had to make that payment
to a man like Jimmy Monk?

Possibly.

Sorry? Possibly?

Well, yes, I would have
been. But then Sean had a gun.

Sorry, did you see
Sean take it with him?

No.

Did you see him remove
it from the drawer?

No.

Did he talk to you
about taking it with him?

No.

Then you can't say that he had
a gun, can you, Mr. Brannigan?

Why are you smiling?

Well, er... call me old-fashioned,
but it's common sense.

Nobody else had access to that
drawer and knew what was in it.

Apart from you.

I don't know what you mean.

Sorry, when... when did you decide to
become a witness for the prosecution?

- What are... What are you saying?
- Who runs The Electric now?

I do.

Thank you.

So Jake is boxing?

Yeah.

- Not the same without him.
- Nah.

Do you remember when he...?

Don't, John.

Please.

- I've done something big.
- Oh, yeah? What's that?

- Given up hockey.
- Ah, about time. Girls' game.

- Ha-ha.
- Why?

Before the game last week,

we were running through
a short corner routine.

- Mm-hmm?
- Bent down to tie my shoelace up,

and one of my
team-mates hit the ball.

Missed my head
by an inch. Thwuh!

- I think if it had...
- You wouldn't be here today.

Nah.

Doesn't bear thinking about.

Except it does.

- What?
- Makes you think.

That... life is short.

And precious.

Mm-hm.

I didn't know why he was angry.

He wouldn't say.

Just kept pacing around
and punching things.

What was he punching?

A cupboard. A wall.

Me.

He hit you?

- Where?
- My stomach.

No, I meant where were you?

My flat.

Had he told you why he
was angry before he hit you?

No.

Did he tell you afterwards?

He said it was that bastard Monk,
who'd threatened him at the club.

Thank you so
much, Miss Philpott.

You were his girlfriend?

- Yes.
- But not now?

No.

Who finished the relationship?

- He did.
- When?

The week before he
came round and hit me.

What were your feelings for Sean
before he finished the relationship?

He was my boyfriend.

Sorry, does that cover your
feelings for Sean McBride?

What?

Does what you've
just told this court

adequately describe
your feelings for this man?

"I love you with all
my body and soul,

"especially my body,

"but my soul, too.

"I want to be with you for ever.

"Will you do that secret thing you
do to me tonight?" Who said that?

Me.

This is a text message you sent
Sean the day before he split up with you.

Now, is that a better
description of your emotions

than the one you've
just given this court?

Yes.

So, you were crazy about him.
You were madly in love with him.

You couldn't get
enough of Sean McBride.

You were devastated when he
finished with you and you were angry...

- No.
- ..and this is your revenge.

This is you lying about the
man who broke your heart.

I'm telling the
truth. He hit me.

- He wouldn't do that.
- How the hell would you know?

Miss Costello is doing her job, Miss
Philpott. Just answer her questions.

That wasn't a question,

- "He wouldn't do that."
- Milady.

The witness is absolutely right.

My learned friend
is giving evidence.

Did you tell the police?

No.

Did you tell your flatmate when
she came home an hour later?

No.

You waited until Sean
was arrested for this murder

and then you gave your
statement to the police.

What secret thing?

I'm not saying.

- Is it something sexual?
- Not really.

What, then?

He used to whisper in my ear.

What did he whisper?

After a kiss.

"I've died and gone to heaven."

Miss Costello?

If I were a more cynical,
hard-nosed-bitch type of barrister,

I would say that my learned opponent still
has the hots for the killer in the dock.

But then I tell myself,
"That can't be right,"

and her esteemed junior would
make sure that it wasn't right.

- I'm not her junior.
- Of course you're not, darling.

We need to get
back for the vote.

On?

Whether to make Amy
Lang a member of chambers.

OK.

We have a decision. Head of
Chambers has to make the call.

He's not here, obviously, so, um...
who's going to inform Miss Lang?

You're in.

46th voter.

Ha-ha!

Oh! Yes!

There were people in the
room across the corridor, 1045.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

OK.

Good.

You're on.

Were you the duty manager at
the hotel on the night of the murder?

Yes.

- Did you notice an arrival?
- The defendant.

- Had he made a booking?
- Yes.

Room 1044.

In what name?

Costello.

- First name?
- Just an initial.

E.

As in Elvis Costello?

A singer, Your Ladyship.

It's been A Good Year For The
Roses, wouldn't you say, Mr. Reader?

But not so good
for Shipbuilding.

The rooms, er... next to and
opposite 1044, were they also booked?

Yes.

And on the day of the murder, did
the guests for those rooms turn up?

Nobody turned up.

What were the names used?

Nick Westlake,

Martin Land,

Steve Keane and Robin Page.

Lunch?

Martha?

Nick Westlake, Martin Land,

Steve Keane, Robin Page.

All boys in our class at school.

- Yours and Sean's?
- Yes.

Jesus Christ.
Well, so that's it.

He keeps the rooms around 1044
empty so nobody hears or sees anything.

Get a bloody
cigarette out for me.

Look, they don't know.

CW doesn't get it.
The police don't know.

And it is not our job
as defence counsels.

Martha.

You take the witness.

I don't think you
can carry on with this.

I've looked into his eyes.

I know the answer when
I look into a client's eyes.

I get it right.

When you say that the
rooms were not occupied,

you mean that the people who
booked them didn't show up?

That's right.

But you didn't go up there
yourself, to the tenth floor?

No.

So you can't actually say that
there was nobody in those rooms?

Nobody booked in.

Yes, but you didn't see for yourself
that those rooms were empty?

Strictly speaking, no.

If I suggested to you that room
1045, the room opposite room 1044,

was actually occupied
at the same time

as when the defendant
was waiting in room 1044,

you can't tell me
that that isn't true?

There are rumours
the hotel is haunted.

Tomorrow at ten?

Love Will Tear Us
Apart by Joy Division

Love

Love will tear us apart

Again

Love

Love will tear us apart

Again...

Where's Martha?

I don't know, Sean.

Maybe she's thinking about
what a liar you turned out to be.

- I'm not a liar.
- You lied about the gun.

I think you're lying
about everything.

Who was it? Who apart from
you made fake hotel reservations

in the name of your classmates?

I've prosecuted
lots of men like you.

You're a manipulator
and a fraud, and Martha...

- ..she's vulnerable.
- Yeah, I get it.

Get what?

You're in love with
her, aren't you? Hmm?

Am I right?

Am I?

You're going down.

Stop it!

Help!

- Aaah!
- Get back!

Shit!

Don't touch him!

Look at me. Did you do this?

He put his hand on my knee.

The cancer is moving.

- That's...
- Let me finish!

If I were to catch you coaching
a witness, I'd finish you.

Is that your killer point?

What are you afraid of?

Trust me.

Square peg, round hole!