Original subtitles

In the criminal justice system,

the people are represented by two separate

yet equally important groups.

The police, who investigate crime,

and the Crown Prosecutors, who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.

- You're slow, boy! - You are dreamin'!

I am faster than you every day!

Fourteen point two seconds?

You're never gonna beat that!

Right, I'll prove it.

This one.

Right, time me. - Go!

- Stay where you are! - Stop right there.

- Stay right where you are. - I didn't do it!

I didn't do it!

I didn't do it.

5-4-5, Control. Need urgent assistance.

I didn't do it!

They didn't do it. Body'd been there ten,

maybe 12 hours by the time they got there.

So who's the poor sod in the back?

No wallet or ID.

Head stoved in, multiple blows from a blunt instrument.

Toolkit in the back of the car.

Weapon might have come from that.

Frenzied attack, judging by the splatter patterns.

You love saying "splatter patterns," don't you?

The two kids are in custody.

Looks like they've taken half the SatNavs

within a square mile.

Right. So is this still an HQ for toms?

Yeah, might explain why his John Thomas was hanging out.

"Blowus interruptus," if you ask me.

Ron, PNC results.

Vehicle belonged to a Frank McCallum.

Blimey! Previously, Detective Sergeant McCallum.

He used to be a copper, in Vice.

He's one of us.

We'd been separated nine months.

I was hoping the split was temporary.

When we were first married,

he used to bring me an orange lily every Friday night.

I'd call him a hopeless romantic.

He'd say, "No, just hopeless."

Working for Vice changed him.

He stopped being the man I married.

That's what being a copper does. Eats you from the inside.

Is there anyone you'd like us to contact?

I wanted kids. I told him he'd be a great dad.

He was a good man.

Darling, I'm so sorry. I just got your message.

Thanks, Josh.

- I'm sorry, sir, you are? - I'm-- I'm Josh Pritchard.

I'm Frank's boss.

Ah-- um, DS Brooks, this is DS Devlin.

Ah, PC Cook will take you home.

Just give us a call if you need anything.

Speak to you in a minute, right?

Battle Fieldz, is that your company?

Yeah, with a Z.

It's a paintballing center out in Epping Forest.

Frank's our operational director.

- And what does that job involve? - Everything.

Um, security, supplies,

making sure the arenas were in good nick.

He did a fantastic job.

Ah, tell me, was he into prostitutes?

And what kind of question's that?

A relevant one.

Yeah, well, I don't know, do I?

And why on earth would he tell me that?

It's not the kind of conversation you normally have with your boss, is it?

We've got teams going house to house looking for witnesses.

- CCTV? - Not round there.

Local kids have a league table,

see who can knock out the most cameras.

We're checking all the private systems

within a half mile radius,

but it's gonna take time.

A murder weapon'd make things too easy.

Well, the search team haven't turned anything up, that's for sure.

I mean, forensics have found some prints in the prelim exam of the car.

but none of them by the way, match our records.

- Well, maybe our girl's new in town. - Or boy.

You think it's a prostitute scam gone wrong?

Well, he does, I don't. McCallum's ex Vice. He knows the ropes.

He ain't gonna get scammed then bashed to death in his own motor, is he?

Revenge killing, then? Someone he had a run-in with at Vice?

So why's he got his ninky-nonk out when they find him?

You don't really call it a ninky-nonk.

You should hear what I call you.

Talk to the friendly neighborhood tarts

and find out what they've heard.

Bloke was murdered under the bridge last night.

You hear anything about that?

- Bit buff for a copper you, aren't you? - Do you mind, love?

His head's big enough already without you adding to it.

Maybe a girl was trying to rip him off, something got out of hand.

Do you mind, we don't scam punters round here.

You start getting a reputation like that, business dies on you.

Anyone new around the place?

Someone who might not understand the rules?

You help us out this time, I'll throw in a get out of jail

free card next time you're nicked for soliciting.

There's a new girl, yeah, round the back of Paddington.

Little Irish girl.

Ah, yeah, yeah. Blonde mousey hair,

green eyes, looks about twelve. Good market for it.

Well, does she have a name?

Niamh!

Bloke's asking for you by name.

- Hello, Niamh. - Hello yourself.

- Do I know you? - Not really.

No, but you might know this.

What? You're Old Bill?

Don't you have anything better to do with your life?

That bag's almost as big as you, love.

What have you got in there?

- Not much. - Well, do you mind showing us?

These belong to Frank McCallum, who was murdered yesterday.

You were arrested on suspicion of his murder.

No.

I find them, on the pavement near the railway lines.

Where are you from, Niamh?

If I had to guess, I would say, Dungannon.

Or a village just outside, like... Cookstown?

It's about five miles away.

I got family. Distant family.

Mad family, actually. Don't see 'em much, thank God.

Your parents know you're here?

My mum's dead.

My dad's a bastard.

Snap. Are we related, do you think?

Niamh.

The man that was murdered used to be a policeman.

So, for myself and Matt here, it's like losing a member of our family.

You were found with that murdered man's property on you.

Your fingerprints were in his car.

Tell us what happened.

The driver's door was open.

He was already dead, lying in the back.

There was no one around.

I promise you on my life, I didn't do it.

The coat was in the back. The wallet and phone were in there.

So I grabbed them, took the keys, shut it all up.

Look at me.

You think I could kill him?

Well, you know somedays I think anybody's capable of anything.

Okay.

We're gonna charge you with theft of articles from the car,

and we're gonna keep you here until we can get a full forensic report on you--

- I told you I didn't-- - I know, sweetheart, I know.

But sometimes people lie.

Niamh Quinn is telling the truth.

Of all the stuff under her fingernails,

and really, you don't wanna know.

No skin or blood from Frank McCallum.

Plus she doesn't share the same lipstick as the killer.

What, you took a lipstick trace off his...

Wangdoodle.

- Oh, yeah. - But she could have other lipsticks.

Well, this one's Blush by Nyman. Now it's not one you get in Superdrug,

Forty quid a go.

American manufacturer, only Selfridges stock it.

Classy girl he had in his crotch.

From the text messages folder on his mobile,

text from a Sanchia.

"Urgent. Must see you tonight. Don't mess me about."

- What do we know about this Sanchia? - I called the number.

She's the accountant at a paintballing center.

Battle Fieldz.

With a Z! Nice work.

We'd been on a date.

He'd been asking for a while and I sort of gave in.

I got drunk quite quickly that night.

He ended up back at mine.

When he asked about going out again, I said no.

- That's when he tried to blackmail me. - How was he gonna do that?

I work in accounts, I know the systems.

Sometimes I get people in for free,

and take a few of the supplies.

I told Frank when I was drunk.

So after you turned him down, he tried to use that against you?

He locked the office door and said he'd report me to Mr. Pritchard

unless I went out with him again.

Basically, slept with him.

I told him to take a running jump.

Can I ask you what kind of lipstick you wear, Sanchia?

I don't.

Where were you Wednesday between noon and 5:00 p.m?

Here, all afternoon.

Health and safety course, with half a dozen other staff.

Sanchia's alibi's rock solid.

Your little friend, Niamh, she really isn't a credible suspect.

She's naive, no worse than that.

We need to know more about the victim.

We need to know who was Frank McCallum.

We turned over his flat. Nothing of interest.

Sparse little gaff in Wood Green,

classic divorced bloke,

on his own, totally unhomely and depressing.

Not all divorced blokes live like that.

Says, "Mister frayed carpet in the corner of his lounge."

The people before me had a cat!

What are you doing with those ties?

Vice are holding a wake for McCallum at the Golden Hind.

I thought we should just nip down there

and see if we can find out a bit more about him.

Excellent!

Frank would ask me to check out people's records,

number plates, that sort of things.

Usually about employees at the paintball place.

When did you last speak? I don't know, ten days ago.

He wanted me to check out a false charge on the company credit card.

Frank thought it might've been phished, internet fraud.

And what did you find out?

Well, it was a legit company behind the charge, Velvet Holdings.

But I dunno what he did with the information, he never came back

Did Frank have a taste for prostitutes?

Look, just show a bit of respect, will you?

Is that a yes or a no?

Look, Frank was a good copper.

But he wore his heart on his sleeve.

He fell in love four times a day and nothing got to him more

than a hard-luck story.

He thought he could help the girls, you know,

fix their lives.

Worst place for a bloke like that is Vice.

Right, we're going to need the names of people he pissed off.

That wasn't Frank. I mean, he was putting his life back together

He was doing good.

Sorry, boys, you've hit a dead end.

No, I've never heard of Velvet Holdings, sorry.

Mind that, mind that, mind that!

Frank McCallum asked an ex-colleague of his

to investigate an apparently fraudulent charge made by them

to your company credit card.

No details about Velvet in any of McCallum's files.

So, how many people are authorized to use your company credit card?

I don't know. Three, I think, but ask Sanchia.

We'll need the names of those authorized users,

plus the account statements for the last few months.

Sure.

Sorry, Mr Pritchard, you said you'd never heard of Velvet Holdings.

No.

Well, Battle Fieldz,

made seven payments to them last month,

at a £1,000 a throw.

And half a dozen the month before that.

Wow, maybe it's a supplier that's changed their name.

Ah, Sanchia, got those invoices on there?

Give me a sec and I'll look.

Each payment was made using company credit card number two.

Who uses that?

Um, it's probably Frank.

Velvet Holdings, "Miscellaneous Supplies."

Very miscellaneous, seeing as neither of you know about them.

Check Companies House, get a full FIU. See what we can get from them.

I became a tech for the glamour. What happens?

I spend half most my nights trawling paperwork here with you.

Yeah, well, you can bet your life Frank McCallum did exactly the same

when he was on the job.

Just remember why you're doing this, Matt.

Fourteen blows to the head.

What kind of person does that?

So, where are we?

Well, company search Velvet Holdings, look...

nothing.

No phone numbers, no website, emails, no business accounts.

Nothing.

No clues about what they do.

Although, registered office is in Oxford Street.

I mean, we go there, we could find an operating address,

maybe even some names.

We're a clearing house.

Companies put this as their registered address

for official mail, Inland Revenue, Companies House

and we forward it on to where they're really based.

So, what, you sit here all day, forwarding letters?

All day, every day.

I'm not allowed a computer,

'cause that'd be too distracting.

And that camera monitors me.

All day. Every day.

- You enjoy your job, Kieran? - I'm a facade.

- Velvet Holdings? - Yes. Here we go.

- That's everything we've got on file. - Thank you.

Okay, Velvet Holdings have their mail forwarded on

to a shop in Barnes called Toby's Play Room.

Let's have a look at that phone number.

Yep. Frank McCallum's mobile bill.

He called that shop the day before he was killed.

Velvet's a trading division of the shop.

I think the accountant advised Emma to set it up, some tax break.

A man called Frank McCallum rang here a couple of days ago.

Do you know what that was about?

No, sorry, I didn't speak to him.

- I did. - Oh, Emma, this is Detective Sargent, um,

- Sorry. - DS Brooks, this is DS Devlin.

Hello, Emma Sandbrook. I own the shop.

Ah, yes-- no. Ah, Frank, I spoke to him last week.

He rang about his delivery to see if it had come in.

We supply kids' stuff to his paintball company.

Kids and paint, my idea of hell.

Did you make the delivery?

Um, no, he picked it up himself. on Tuesday I think.

And what about Wednesday, did you see him then?

No, I don't think so.

You're not sure?

Um,

no, actually no, it can't have been. That's when we went shopping.

Yeah, that's right.

Yeah, we don't work Wednesday afternoons, we tend to treat ourselves.

We took the train in to Bond Street

and had a late lunch at Selfridges.

Bit of window shopping, that sort of thing.

Well, you've got some nice stuff. Have you been open long?

Um, about three and a half years.

Is everything all right with Frank?

He was beaten to death on Wednesday afternoon.

Oh, my God. That's terrible.

Well, we'll be in touch if we need anything else.

She said he rang about a delivery.

But he picked the stuff up himself.

From Epping to Barnes!

And he's the operational director. No.

Why bother with that?

And why do Battle Fieldz with a Z have 'em listed

under miscellaneous supplies in their accounts?

They've got a category for that sort of stuff.

Well, maybe it was a mistake.

Depends what you favor, conspiracy or cock-up?

You know me, Mattie,

I believe everything everyone tells me

and I'm disappointed on a daily basis.

So if it's not paintballing equipment,

what are they supplying to Battle Fieldz?

Could be a drugs front.

Dealing coke to the middle classes

of southwest London.

- Nah. - Nah.

But you've got the accounts file for Velvet Holdings?

- Yeah, all legit on the surface. - So go below the surface.

Talk to everyone who's made payments into the company

and find out exactly what they're paying for.

Feet off the table.

I work like a bastard down here, Monday to Friday.

I'm allowed a bit of play.

Well, we'd just like to know

what the girls from Velvet Holdings

supply you with.

Don't try and put any stigma on me, lads.

I could have an affair, be keeping a bird here,

but I couldn't live with meself.

This way, it's a business transaction.

We all have a good time, they get paid,

and I'm not betraying the wife.

They're prozzies, bloody good ones.

"High class" doesn't come into it.

Save up, lads. Treat yourselves.

Do you recognize these women?

Oh, aye. There we go!

That's Coral and that's Amber.

Bloody hell.

I get a rod on like Nelson's Column, just thinking about her.

A school like this can't come cheap.

That's before you've even bought the first tennis racket.

Look, Ron, there's enough gaps in what they're saying to bring them in.

Yeah, I know, but still, I hate this bit.

Splitting families.

That's so good and your serving is so much better.

I've been improving a lot.

You have, my love.

- Hello, gentlemen. - Mrs Sandbrook.

This is my son Toby.

He's just been selected to represent the school.

- Isn't it great? - Nice work, mate.

Thanks.

Go ask your father for a drink, my love.

Is everything okay?

We'd like you to come with us to the station.

Now?

It's related to Frank McCallum's death.

I'm sorry, we can't-- not now. We're with our boys--

Emma Sandbrook, Kate Barton, I'm arresting you on suspicion

of the murder of Frank McCallum.

You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense

if you do not mention when questioned

- something which you later-- - This is ridiculous.

Anything you do say may be given in evidence--

- Emma, what's going on? - Nothing, these, ahh...

These policemen would like to ask us

about a guy who bought some stuff

from the shop, that's all.

Well, can't it wait, chaps?

No, it can't. I'm sorry, sir.

Take Joe, Tim's getting changed.

Give them tea,

I'll pick them up later. We won't be long.

- What? - Car's this way.

Emma?

- What's going on? - See you later, darling. Nothing.

See you later.

Kate, we checked with Selfridges.

They've got no record of you at the restaurant the afternoon

Frank McCallum was killed.

We didn't have a reservation, and we paid cash.

Well, there's no sign of you on the CCTV cameras along Bond Street,

either.

Have you got any receipts for your purchases?

Threw them away. Sorry.

Kate, I've been married twice.

No woman throws away receipts

for clothes they've only just bought.

How did the prostitution start?

We prefer to call ourselves escorts.

Well, that's classier I agree.

But whatever you want to call it, how did it start?

We bought our house five years ago.

Top of what we could afford.

A year later, I found my husband was having an affair.

After I chucked him out,

I found out he'd run up debt in my name.

We owed on the boys' school fees.

I was 40 grand in debt, couldn't cover the mortgage.

You ever been in so much debt?

It's like you can't breathe.

- Did you kill Frank McCallum? - No.

Did Emma?

We were shopping all afternoon.

Frank McCallum had a wife who loved him,

a job he enjoyed, and a lot of mates who are struggling to understand

why at the age of 47 he is dead.

If you provide a false alibi for a killer,

you are in just as much trouble, as they are.

Misguided loyalty, will not help you.

Or your sons.

I'm telling the truth.

Steve and I put all our money into starting up the shop.

We remortgaged, we took out a loan,

we lost money hand over fist every month.

It just got worse and worse

and then Steve lost his bloody job

and...

I knew Kate through the school.

And we were in the same situation.

We'd sit in her kitchen in the evenings, drinking wine,

trying to come up with a solution.

We were joking at first. Then I just thought, "Well, why not?

What's so bad about that?"

We don't do the scuzzy end.

We preselect and vet all our clients.

Mostly young blokes with some money, some class.

Sounds almost aspirational.

Don't judge me.

I know what I am.

I know what people will think of me.

And does it matter to you, what people will think?

I've been doing it to keep my family together.

I'm good at it.

I make others feel good.

Emma.

I'm afraid your DNA was all over the murder scene.

On Frank McCallum's body,

and on a toolkit in the back of his car.

That would've been the Tuesday.

He came to the shop to pick up his order.

I helped him load stuff into the car.

I must've moved the toolkit.

We searched your house. We found this.

Blush by Nyman.

Also found on Frank McCallum's body.

Nice color, suits you.

- I'm not a murderer. - Sorry, Emma.

We're going to charge you with the murder of Frank McCallum.

Emma Sandbrook's DNA was plastered all over Frank McCallum's car.

- Mm-hm. - Traces of her rare and expensive lipstick

were on his body.

But we don't have a murder weapon, and she denies she was there.

She'd have us believe that he was murdered.

by some random street prostitute.

So how are you going to stand this up in court?

With motive.

What provokes Emma Sandbrook into such a brutal attack?

- Mm-hm. - Find that, we unlock the case.

- Frank McCallum gets justice. - Mm-hm.

They had sex in the car,

he refuses to pay, she gets angry.

No, inconsistent. She's a thousand-pound escort.

All her other clients she saw in hotels or their homes.

Maybe car sex turned Frank McCallum on.

George is right, I don't think Emma would've taken that risk.

Every aspect of their work was...

careful, pre-planned, safety-conscious.

Yeah, a long way from watertight. You've got a lot of work to do.

Why did she get in the car? What happened after she did?

Phyllis! Do you mind? We're in conference!

You need to get a new receptionist.

That one's easy to get past.

Phyllis Gladstone, representing Emma Sandbrook.

- I've seen you defend. - Did I get her off?

- Yep. - So, what are you doing in this case?

When did prostitutes fly the flag for women's rights?

Sexual exploitation of women, that's the nub here.

What? How did you made that leap?

Drop the charges, you'll never make it home with this.

The DNA evidence is irrefutable.

Ah, the great God, science.

I'll turn it to dust beneath my fingers. Motive?

Out!

- You don't know, do you? - Out!

Good, Good! I'll tell my client.

She's impossible.

And brilliant.

You have to find that motive.

Start prodding the husband.

He must be feeling a little bruised.

She wasn't in the car. She didn't kill him, I know her.

But, until this came out, you didn't know she was a prostitute.

Stop calling her that!

I'm sorry.

Sometimes it's too much...

to take in.

Before we got married,

I told her, if she ever slept with anyone else,

I'm out, no discussions, no second chances,

I'd just leave.

So why are you still here?

Couldn't do it.

Maybe I should take Toby and go.

But there's no off switch when you...

love someone, is there?

I just want to keep the family together.

So long as that doesn't include lying for them.

I've told you everything she told me.

She wasn't there.

Did you find anything on Frank McCallum's credit card bills?

Yes, almost every time there's a Velvet Holdings charge.

There's a charge the same day from Hotel 103,

a small hotel in Marylebone.

- Could be the love pad. - That's what I was thinking.

But the last payment was three weeks before the murder.

So, what?

After that they switched hotels?

Don't think so.

There's no more charges on the card.

Maybe they had a falling out, stopped seeing each other.

See if any of the staff noticed anything odd

about the last time McCallum

- and Emma were there. - Sure.

Checking in at 2:24 p.m. on the 19th.

- Yep. - Won't be a sec.

There you go.

- That's her. - And that's your Mr McCallum.

No, it's not.

Look, what exactly is it you want me to say?

You lied to the police.

You were having sex

with the woman accused of murdering your employees

and you forgot to mention it?

Look, okay, so I'm-- you know, really terribly sorry.

Just stop going on about it.

You told police the charges were on Frank McCallum's card.

I promise you, swear to God, cross my heart and hope to die,

I had nothing to do with Frank McCallum's death.

Nor did Amber.

Emma. Emma-- Emma Sandbrook.

She-- calls herself Amber.

What was she doing in a car with Frank McCallum?

I asked him to find her.

- Why? - 'Cause a couple of weeks ago, she-- um,

Emma, said that she didn't want to continue with our meetings.

- Why? - I don't know.

She said it was nothing personal.

That it was her, not me

Maybe I was just getting a little bit too close

or something, I don't know.

But, I tell you, those two hours were the best part of my week.

I asked her to live with me, 'cause I wanted a relationship

rather than just a transaction.

And about then she stopped returning my calls.

And so I-- I knew that, Frank, he'd been in the police force,

so I asked him to find her for me.

You sent Frank McCallum after Emma Sandbrook

and then you lied about it, persistently.

Ah...

I didn't know what else to do, you know?

I love her.

So, Frank McCallum lied

to his old friend in Vice about why he needed

information on Velvet Holdings.

It wasn't credit card fraud. He wanted to find Emma for Josh.

And we know he did, because he called her at the shop.

Which means he knew everything. Her real name,

the fact that she was married with a child.

Is that why she got in his car,

rather than meet him at Hotel 103?

So she didn't meet him for sex at all.

He picks her up,

drives her somewhere out of the way.

Where he threatens to tell the whole of Barnes about her secret.

Unless she sleeps with him whenever he wants.

It's the same thing he demanded of the woman at the paintball company!

Emma's driving force all along was to keep her family together.

That's why she sold sex in the first place.

So what happens if Frank McCallum threatens to expose a secret

that would make her husband leave and tear her family apart?

And you think that gives Emma Sandbrook a motive for murder?

Yuck! Big yuck. What a stretch!

That theory will sag like an undercooked soufflé in court.

After she killed him, she panicked.

Did the first thing that came to mind.

She put lipstick around his penis

to make it look like he'd been with a prostitute,

not realizing her lipstick was easily traceable back to her.

She wasn't there.

- She didn't do it. - Emma pleads guilty to manslaughter

on grounds of provocation.

Frank McCallum's widow is then saved the trauma

of a trial.

Show some humanity, Phyllis.

If my client refuses your offer?

We'll try her for murder, she can look forward

to a much heftier sentence.

Take this offer, Emma could get as little as five years.

She'd be out in time to see Toby do his GCSEs.

I'll put your suggestion to my client

Now, if you'll excuse me, I do have other work.

- Think she'll take it? - I'd never predict Phyllis Gladstone.

If she refuses, blackmail's a good mitigation,

even at a murder trial.

It's motive, not a defense.

You're never gonna believe this. Emma Sandbrook wants to confess.

Frank McCallum came to the shop.

He said that he worked for Josh Pritchard

and that he knew all about me.

He said if I didn't get in the car with him,

he'd drive straight round to see my husband.

I couldn't bear the thought of it all coming out,

so I got in the car with him.

He drove and parked up and then he locked the doors

and said he wouldn't tell my husband anything,

as long as I agreed to have sex with him,

free of charge, whenever he wanted.

I--

I told him, I wasn't gonna do that.

And I tried to get out of the car.

And that's when he grabbed me.

Where did he grab you?

First by the wrist, then by the hair.

And he-- he pulled my head

down into his crotch

and forced me to...

I'm sorry, Emma, we have to be clear about this.

What did Frank McCallum force you to do?

To perform oral sex on him.

I was struggling.

I managed to push him off me,

and crawled into the back of the car,

but he came after me and I was trapped.

I saw the spanner on top of the open toolkit.

And...

Frank was...

He was clawing at me, pulling at my clothes.

So I grabbed the spanner and swung it.

I was protecting myself.

I thought he was going to kill me.

Attempted rape.

- When did you dream that up? - It's the truth.

It happened just as she said.

And no jury hearing that will convict her of murder.

Why didn't she mention rape before?

She didn't think she'd be believed.

Really? She's hardly the shy, retiring wallflower.

We know McCallum asked another woman for sex

in exchange for this quiet.

And we know he never went further than asking.

Every rapist starts somewhere.

If you can find proof within the evidence

to support Emma's assertion, I'll listen.

Until then, my duty is to the murder victim.

He's still owed justice.

So d'you think you can make it home

with what you've got on this case?

- Yeah. - Good.

No further arrangements.

Emma Sandbrook stands trial for murder.

Oh, by the way,

Emma's husband has corroborated her story.

He told her to stay away from the police.

He disposed of the murder weapon.

The police are locating it now, based on his information.

He changed his story?

Oh, sweetie, don't look so disappointed.

So, not only is Emma lying, she's got others lying for her, as well.

You're not convincing me, and you won't convince a jury.

Lies rarely sustain under pressure, Phyllis.

Well, we'll soon find out.

May the best man win.

Is it correct that in 1998,

a sex worker called Debbie Kane

complained to the Police Complaints Authority

that she was arrested by Frank McCallum

after refusing to have sex with him?

That complaint was not upheld.

And subsequently, in 2002,

a sex worker called Lisa McCormack

filed a similar complaint.

Also dismissed.

It's very easy for prostitutes to make these complaints.

Frank wasn't that sort of bloke.

Were complaints made against anyone else in the Vice Squad?

Not to my knowledge, no.

Thank you.

Did those complaints allege

Detective McCallum used violence?

Absolutely not.

Do you know why they were dismissed?

Well, they were thoroughly investigated by the PCA.

There was a-- an on the record hearing.

They concluded there was no evidence to support the charges.

There's no saliva in the lipstick!

Sorry?

I've been back through forensics.

The lipstick marks on Frank McCallum's body

didn't contain traces of saliva.

Contradicting Emma's evidence

that McCallum forced her to perform oral sex.

So, I asked Forensics to check back

for other inconsistencies.

They queried why the lipstick was the only marking

on McCallum's penis.

If it had been outside of his clothes during the attack,

it should've been splattered with blood.

But it wasn't.

Which means the lipstick was applied

after she'd killed Frank McCallum.

The facts undermine Emma's story.

She was in the car,

but she wasn't raped.

Hello?

Hi, Erm-- I'm Annie McCallum. Frank's wife.

Oh, come in, come in! James Steel.

I was in court this morning.

I know what they're trying to do.

Now, Frank was many things, but he wasn't a rapist.

We believe you.

But are the jury going to believe that?

You know, she killed him, and now she's lying about him.

Who's speaking out for Frank?

- Who's defending him? - We are.

I promise.

I thought the money came from the shop.

I didn't think to ask questions, not when we needed it so badly.

The money Emma earned...

was a lifesaver.

Before that, we were in massive trouble.

If Emma's acquitted, will you let her come home?

Yes.

We're a family.

Toby needs his mum.

So, despite everything, you're here,

giving evidence, in support of your wife.

I don't agree with her selling sex.

But I understand why she did it.

She sacrificed herself, to keep the family together.

And I'm--

certain she's telling the truth about what happened in the car.

Thank you.

Is it difficult being continually humiliated

by your wife, Mr Sandbrook?

Pertinent questions, Mr Steel, please.

Emma comes to you in tears and...

she tells you she just killed a man

who tried to rape her,

and you tell her not to go to the police?

I was worried they wouldn't believe her.

You're not a stupid man.

You must have known they'd find out.

Well, I-- I-- I don't, I mean, it--

It wasn't the best decision.

None of this is the truth, is it?

Your wife never told you she killed Frank McCallum

- in self-defense, did she? - I've told you what happened--

She came up with the story of the attempted rape

after she was arrested

- and demanded you go along with it. - No!

"She told me she wasn't there."

That's from your original statement.

Were you lying then? Or are you lying now?

Can anything you say be believed?

In your line of work,

have you ever been asked to do things that you...

didn't want to do?

One man threatened me with a carving knife.

I had no choice but to let him do what he wanted.

Rape you.

Yes.

What would have happened if you'd refused?

I think he might have killed me.

Mrs Sandbrook was responsible for you becoming a prostitute?

We discussed it together.

It was a short term solution to...

a difficult problem.

But you soon got used to the money?

Neither of us were going to do it forever.

Emma had been wanting to stop for a few months.

She'd had enough.

She wanted out before Steve discovered.

No further questions.

I will rise for the short adjournment.

Members of the jury, please be back here in one hour.

Give me Emma's police statement.

And every statement by her husband and by Kate.

- Sure. - Court, rise.

When I saw the spanner, I just grabbed it and swung it.

I was just trying to get him off me.

Why didn't you go to the police?

Because I knew they wouldn't see a mum from Barnes, just a whore.

I was just trying to protect my family.

Thank you, Emma.

How many strangers have paid you to have sex with them?

Answer the question, please, Mrs Sandbrook.

Eighty, maybe 90 men.

Were you proud of being a prostitute?

Not proud, no.

Ashamed, then?

Sometimes.

Why did you want to stop being a prostitute?

Why do you think?

It's your evidence we require, Mrs Sandbrook.

I have a husband and son.

I don't think I could...

carry on living with myself if I--

If I didn't stop, doing it.

So you felt guilty and ashamed?

Like I said, yes, sometimes I did, yes, sometimes.

And were you worried that if your husband found out

he might leave you, as he'd previously threatened?

I never wanted to hurt Steve.

So when Frank McCallum threatened to tell your husband,

you had no choice but to kill him?

- No, he tried to rape me. - You reached for a spanner

and you hit him 14 times.

Fourteen times.

That's a frenzied attack.

What was he saying to you

- that made you so angry-- - He was attacking me!

- I told you-- - He brought out all that guilt

and that shame and self-loathing that you'd worked so hard to bury--

- No-- - Didn't he?

- No, I was fighting him off-- - Isn't it true you thought you were--

- on your way to being free-- - He was trying to rape me--

of prostitution, here was this man who was threatening to destroy

- your entire life. - No!

You just said you hated your life.

You couldn't live with yourself.

- And in that moment-- - No! That is not how it was--

all that rage and fear came flooding out, didn't it?

Was he still talking, after the first blow with the spanner?

- I don't know-- - Or the second? Or the third?

- Or the fourth hit shut him up-- - I don't know. I can't remember!

Was he still threatening to tell Steve when you hit him the fifth time,

- Or the seventh? Or the ninth? - It was fast. I don't know--

So at what point did he actually lose consciousness?

When you could have managed to get out of the car if you'd wished?

After the eleventh blow or thirteenth?

I don't know.

You don't know because your story is a lie, isn't it, Mrs Sandbrook--

No, it's not.

- He was trying to rape me-- - Isn't it true that after you killed him,

- you panicked-- - He was clawing at me.

And quickly altered the scene to make it look like

a prostitute's attack

- He was trying-- - By applying lipstick

to Frank McCallum's dead body?

- No, I did not! No, I did not-- - Forensic tests found no saliva traces

in the lipstick.

You didn't attack him in self-defense, did you?

If that was true,

you would've fled, the moment you'd fought him off.

You killed him because he threatened to expose you as a prostitute.

- Didn't you-- - No. No.

No.

Defendant, please rise.

Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict

upon which you are all agreed?

Yes.

In relation to the count of the murder

of Frank McCallum,

do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?

Guilty.

I can't help thinking about Emma's family.

Why did Emma force us to trial?

She could've taken our first offer.

There's always more than one victim.

But it was the right verdict for Frank McCallum.

Justice has been done.