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Any idea in your position --

Echo Tango One... Where's the package?

'Roads clear. ma'am, just
approaching a mile out.'

Hear that, gang. We're
losing time for photography.

If a face is familiar,

'move on, we want to know
who the newcomers are.'

'People like this can bring out all the top
brass from the arse end of the universe.'

I want to know who Nora
Attah knows these days.

Ma'am, you've got a dry cleaning label
hanging out of the back of your dress.

'You haven't?'

When was the last time yours was cleaned?

You have been missed, ma'am.

Eyes on Manni Attah, ma'am.

At seven o'clock with people
probably worth knowing.

Not screaming volatile to me.

- I like her top, though.
- No, YOUR seven o'clock.

'He's talking to the crematorium owners.'

He's changed a bit since
we last set eyes on him.

Joy, are you getting this?

Joy, focus.

Yep, really focused, ma'am.

All clear as a bell and being processed.

'Ma'am, package has arrived.'

Upjohn.

What sort of way is this, to
show up at my son's funeral?

I shouldn't be greeted by you.

Your ex-wife's car's
on its way as we speak.

You think so?

My mother is not moving
until she's spoken to you.

My condolences, Norah.

My son is a civilian.

Did I gate-crash your husband's funeral?

No. But I appreciated the flowers.

And with respect, I didn't
have a convicted murderer

on the guest list.

- Your husband.
- Ex-husband, he invited himself.

A flight risk nevertheless.

So a police presence is non-negotiable.

I'm here to make sure that
today belongs to your boy.

- Understood?
- One favour to ask.

I'm not having uniforms
in my Herbie's chapel.

No deal, Norah, your ex is not
coming out of handcuffs today.

You and me weigh more.

Jammy bitch, she's
getting us in the chapel.

- That's not tea. - Er,
no. - So, shift it.

We're in.

I need slower sweeps, ma'am,
get the whole congregation in.

Yes, beautiful ma'am.

Get us a look at the other front row.

Relax. Somebody is bound to be
videoing this. I'll send you a copy.

♪ Amazing grace

♪ How sweet the sound

♪ That saved a wretch like me

♪ And I was once was lost

♪ But now am found

♪ Was blind... ♪

Ma'am!

- Ma'am, you all right?
- Forget it.

Dinah's got the key.

Dinah, the key!

Dead to us...

Dinah! Key...

Holy fuck!

What have they done to him?

- We've got to go. Let's get out.
- Herbie! Where's my son?

Get off me! Where's my son?

Get her out.

Herbie!

Where's my son?

Where's my son?

What was that? Herbie!

- Get her into the van.
- No, no, no, we've got our own transport.

- She's in shock, you're bleeding and
we all need out of here. - Herbie!

Be safer than anywhere.

Oi!

It's, the crem owners, they shouldn't
be legging it, not with box files.

Oi, stop now.

- Ma'am, you OK?
- Yeah, yeah. Well, I will be,

when Miller tells me what
the hell happened here?

Mrs Attah, we need to go now.

Can you two please get into the van.

It's for your own protection.

Tell her to quit shouting, Viv.

Or I'll tape her mouth up.

- Don't you dare threaten me.
- Don't you dare point at me, girl.

Don't you Viv me. Inspector.

- Was that a bomb?
- Oh, grow up, bomb?

Smelled like a bomb.

We're all praying that
was a gas explosion.

Well, I'd put your mats away, that
was a big fat wanking bomb, Viv.

- With bells on.
- The bomb squad haven't had time...

Yeah, well, the bomb squad
haven't actually turned up yet.

And I don't need their data to tell
me what is blindingly obvious to

- insiders. - If you are in a
manic phase, I'm not in the mood.

Oh, boom-boom. I'm not the
bipolar bear you remember, ma'am.

Yeah, one could easily forget...

Oh, this is nice, wasn't it?

Yes, well, I've just double-checked
the footage from the relay and based

on the usual 30 years of passion books,
conferences, exams and empirical hands on,

the depth and velocity of the
plume and the colour of the smoke

tell me it was a bomb.

So get your good wellies out,
we've shit on the way, ma'am.

I've missed working
with you, welcome home.

That was Lickberg.

I lied, I told her
you're tied up with Norah.

I'm counselling. She needs taking out
for a pint as a matter of urgency.

Don't even go there.

She a 12-stepper?

Actually, knowing her, she'll be 13.

Look, just don't invite her
out for drinks, we tried.

She stares at you like you've
just gone for her knickers.

Ma'am.

Norah's upstairs getting showered

and Manni's reluctantly
giving us a witness statement.

How much experience do
you have of Norah Attah?

I testified against
Norah in the 2012 trial.

After the not guilty, she sent me a
court artist sketch with me in the

witness box.

All the witnesses got one.

- You? - She's the only person I
ever heard me dad call the C-word.

And that was way before.

I meant professionally
on repeatable record.

Dad was on morphine at the time.

I've called a press conference.

I'm announcing it was
a Victorian gas main.

Oh, erm, you'll have to give me an hour,

just to sort me head out
and stick a face back on.

Viv, in all honesty, this can't
be the first week back that you

visualised. Why don't you go
home and when this blows over...

Surviving the day this far.

It would be rude not to
see it through, ma'am.

But thanks.

You're getting a lifetime
achievement award.

Outstanding achievement.

And not for going home and lying down.

OK, Inspector. We're going to be asked internally
whether we should have seen this coming.

Oh, if Norah didn't see it coming,
how the hell could we? And she didn't.

Her security at the crem was scraggy.

Until this blows over, that
is not how Norah works,

she'd spark a riot just to find
time to think and rattle your troops.

We really don't want that, ma'am.

So if it wasn't a hit,
are we thinking warning?

Nobody uses a bomb that
big to say boo, Christine.

Ma'am.

Ma'am.

- Barely repairable.
- I know.

She needs your insurance
company believing that.

Manni Attah wants his mum.

Is it right we're saying
gas explosion, then?

With a blast that size, there's always
busted gas mains so it's never a lie.

- You OK?
- No, Dinah.

"It's your first week back, Viv."

"Stay home 'til it blows over, Viv."

I've been stuck at home,
dressed like a sack of shit,

having to pretend that I'm heartbroken.

I've had to sell my house.

Cos people needed me looking like
a wreck who couldn't spend another
minute where her husband died.

Which you're supposed to.

Fine!

But this is getting beyond a joke, Dinah.

If you've lied through your
teeth about being gutted,

don't blame the boss for swallowing that.

I am the boss.

What were the circumstances
of Herbie Attah's death?

I've just sent down for
the coroner's report.

Ma'am.

This is a health and safety question.

How do you think she's coping?

- Very well.
- Considering.

We don't want her to burn out in her
first week, so keep an eye on her,

- yeah?
- Yes, ma'am.

We're not letting anyone into the
crem until we find out what's in
the sandbags packing the coffin.

Yeah, we're not interested in the chapel.

If there's any secondaries we're
safer at the first ground zero where

all the best bits of the bomb will be.

Bomb? What, we know that?

Fucking right.

Yeah, but the bomb squad don't like me

so try charming the
gayest looking ones first.

Do your dick on a stick for us.

We need access to as many
fragments as possible.

- You all right? - Oh, can't
just be happy, has to be manic?

No, it's just why walking onto
a bombsite makes anybody happy?

Right, nobody opens this
without wearing these.

Right, Norah, I'm going to
talk to you like a grown-up.

What if that was no gas main, butler?

When I say we're on the same side,

that means you pointedly
stay on mine within the law,

or I'll come down on you
like a tonne of bricks.

You've taken over no-one's turf at all?

That you can think of?
You've offended no-one?

Well, maybe that's where we start.

Norah's wilting, hit the
menopause, time to move on.

I'm going home.

The bomb squad's currently
surrounding your house.

But be my guest, Mrs Attah.

Go and try opening your
own front door first.

Mad bitch.

Get after her, don't let
her leave the building.

If she ends up in the same room as
her lad, do not leave their sight.

- Just me?
- Obviously not. Gavin.

Only cos I want to see your arse.

That stops right now.

- Miller?
- You ready for this?

Guess how many bodies we counted?

I thought I was attached
to the only fatality.

Yeah, well, when we started
digging round in the crater,

we were thinking massacre cos there's
more arms and legs than a West End show.

But this lot aren't bomb victims,

these bodies were already dead and buried.

Buried, in a crematorium?

Yeah, some more recently than others.

And, we found Herbie Attah.

- I'm on my way.
- Excellent, ma'am,

but they all smell alike, so if you're
coming down, bring your Vicks, fucking reeks.

Mr Cornick, would you mind
explaining why we discovered

20 bodies in a ten-foot burial pit,

including Herbie Attah's,
right behind your crematorium?

Mum signs the agreements.

I manage the business.

I'm not even on the deeds yet.

Yeah, well ask the seedy little shit
whether or not I gave him the money

to gas the flamers, which he
then blew on those prostitutes,

again and again and again.

Tell her to take her selective
cataracts out and face some facts.

The gas bills are hers.

Read the contract.

And don't be thinking just prostitutes.

No, these were real specimens.

Fatter than I can describe.

The size of him beneath those girls.

I mean, how much more ridiculous
could anybody want to look?

I did not take part in the
disposal of Herbie Attah's body.

I want Nora Attah to know that
this would never have happened

on my watch.

OK.

Right, so the story so far, yeah.

When the crem owners couldn't
pay the gas bills to fire up the

incinerators, they started burying
bodies in the garden of the crem.

And the cherry on top of
their Hieronymus botch job...

I thank you...

Herbie Attah.

So how's Herbie even recognisable
if the rest of him's dog food?

Eh? Oh, yeah -- sorry.

How can that belong to that?

Well, it's the same with bomb vests
or anything pyrotechnically chesty,

the shock wave expels the head

diametrically opposite at the speed of,

fuck, I used to know this.

Anyway, if you look at the
intercostal muscles, see,

hanging off the ribs, it suggests

the bomb was planted in his
torso before he was buried.

What's she doing here? Going
to offer me a Parker pen?

- Did she mention me?
- Er, no, actually.

So, make no bones about it,

this morning's attack was a
monstrous attempt at mass homicide.

They desecrated Herbie Attah's body

with a bomb intended to
go off inside the chapel.

If it hadn't been for junior
and senior Cornicks' debt

and depravity, Nora Attah would've
been blown to kingdom come.

As would I. In reverse order.

So the question we're asking
is, which of this lot...

The Irish, the Turks, the Poles --
who's thick enough, brave enough,

to take on Nora Attah?

No way was it the Poles or Turks.

They prioritise petrol stations
round the airport to scrap over.

Hey, has Miller found anything yet
connecting the bomb with the Irish?

That's a racial slur because the
bomb went off outside the chapel.

- I'm reporting you.
- Yeah,

but I know what Spike's thinking
and he's not the only one.

Realistically, aren't Earl Kennedy's
family the only ones capable of

pulling something like this off?

FYI, Peter Kay, I was
born in County Kildare.

Actually, Earl Kennedy's got
polycystic kidney disease.

He is in and out of St
Margaret's five times a week.

This was taken just ten days ago.

Where are these images from?

This isn't authorised surveillance.

Oh, these are voluntary submissions,
ma'am, from members of the public,

people who are scared.
Anonymous, in the main,

aside from a few sending errors.

Well, that's fine as long
as we're not being spoon-fed

- misinformation.
- A very good point.

As a rule, but in this case,
the information is bang on.

Earl Kennedy is on his way out.

Paving the way for son and heir,

- Jackie Kennedy.
- He's notoriously anti-Attah.

And after Nora got her husband sent
down and took over his business,

Jackie Kennedy told her that she'd
never survive without his help.

But in fact, she tripled her turnover.

- Where is Jackie?
- Oh, yeah, ma'am,

one of the Kennedy snitches was
with Jackie all morning playing pool.

When the news of the gas explosion
broke and that Nora survived,

Jackie went white as a sheet.

Check airports, credit cards.
Oh, lest we forget, racecourses.

Ma'am. Herbie Attah's coroner's report.

And Nora's still asking where the body is.

What do I tell her? Don't kick off --

your son's not much more than a smoothie.

Gav.

Has anyone else seen this?

No.

Keep it that way.

- And tell Nora I'll be
escorting her home. - Yes, ma'am.

Did I say bring a circus?

Oh, we could have dressed him
up as UBS or Parcelforce,

but I presumed you wouldn't want folk

thinking you were having
to resort to eBay.

They meant it to go off in
the coffin during the funeral.

It would've killed you,
me, Manni and your VIPs.

Instead it was where?

It was with Herbie, in the ground.

I know how Herbie died.

- Hadn't he try to take his own life before?
- It was an accident.

- Twice?
- But now I know it wasn't.

They got to him first.

They killed him to get us all in
one place, take is out in one go.

So convenient. I know my son was murdered.

Nora, for heaven's sake.

Why aren't you thinking like me?

There was no sign of
foul play in that report.

Herbie had stopped taking his meds.

He'd stopped attending his
paid-for psychiatric appointments.

I'm going to land you slap.

And you're going to get one
right back. Now calm down.

I beg you,

don't go to sleep pretending
that you believe that was murder.

Herbie went to a very lonely place
to do what he did with that rope.

And he told you himself,
he did it to make you stop.

I read his note.

All he had to do was ask.

In person.

He tells me now in a note.

Where was my chance?

That was not fair.

He did ask.

Mum wants me to move back in.

I just...

Looks like the last thing you need.

I didn't have a chance to say
how sorry I was for your dad.

Nobody has.

Think on.

Anything you need, anything I
can do, we want the same thing.

Day or night -- I never don't ring back.

Manni, Manni!

Ma'am, talk to me.

Jackie Kennedy's plates have just
been spotted heading in your direction,

- two cars.
- How far away?

Too late, they're here.

Two miles behind you.

Authorising use of firearms
if you need to call it.

Nora.

Mrs Attah.

Inspector. I heard about Herbie's funeral.

My family is devastated, that was
a heinous thing to have happen.

And we thought these might
do something to help.

Don't flowers arrive before the service?

Be assured my family and
friends are at your disposal.

To, excuse me, string up the
fuckers that had a go at you.

Oh, fellas, that is my job, and it
will be done on behalf of the public.

It's in all of our interest to
cooperate. Dad would want that.

I couldn't agree more.

And I know that Herbie
was a big fan of red.

I wanted that to matter.

It matters.

A lot.

- Inspector.
- Inspector.

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Lickberg

and this is a warrant
to search your premises

- for bomb-making paraphernalia.
- You're making a big mistake, chief.

Tell the boys I need them all inside.

Echo 22969 to control.

I'm outside Jonno's Irish pub.

This can't not kick off.

It's making my skin prick.

You need to stick your chest
out and start patting down,

we need to look like
we're here aggressively.

Yes, ma'am.

- Dinah. - Ma'am. Earl
Kennedy is back in business.

You're fucking kidding.

Don't... don't dial, ma'am,

Weather's about to change.

Dinah, I'm putting you on speaker.

Earl was matched to a donor last night,

had a kidney transplant this morning.

'They wouldn't let me anywhere
near to hear about recovery,'

but nurses say, if the kidney takes,

he can have another ten
years on the clock.

I'll meet you in the
hospital in 20 minutes.

Are you not there already?

I need to make a house call.

We could all do. Somebody's looking out
for him, they're looking out for us.

I thought Nora had made her mind
up and there was no changing it.

Not by me, but by Earl Kennedy.

Earl Kennedy on our side is worth
a battalion of cops on the street.

Hiya.

Oh, wow!

You've got it papered. I love it.

I didn't get it papered

and I also did two ceilings and half
the toilet wall with this spares.

- You can come and do mine.
- Honestly, you could not pay me enough.

Cathy, listen, I'm sorry about Alf.

I can't imagine what it must be
like being on your own with a baby.

Er, neither can she.

Two vaccinations, she never made a peep.

So I thought why don't
we get her ears pierced?

You did not!

Donna, that is it! You're packing
your bags, and I mean it this time.

Even I know to wait till it starts school.

I'm starving, she needs changing.

I'll put kettle on, but someone
else is putting bags in.

Cathy, this isn't a social visit.

We don't think you're
safe staying around here.

And I love her saying pack your
bags, and I mean it this time.

Every time I find a decent
flat, she talks me out of it.

- Anyone stolen the sugar?
- Come here.

Safe from what?

Well, we can't go into detail,
but there's been an attack

on a local gang family and
we're expecting repercussions.

They're on about the Attahs.

- Who's behind that then?
- None of your business, and it's not the point.

You're right in the firing
line if anything kicks off.

I'm saying I think you're
safer moving back into mine

until it all blows over, or we
need to make other decisions.

You know, if you're all
happy in the one room,

you're more than welcome, Donna.

Or she could just move in with me
if she'd ever let me rent anywhere.

The point is though, if you
had to dive into solitary

every time it kick off round
here, you'd have her dizzy.

Yeah, well, they've upped
their game on kicking off --

explosives were used.

- You didn't hear that from us.
- Fuck me.

Dolores Mavis May Kornick,
Gerrard Ethan Kornick,

you are hereby charged with the
indecent disposal of human remains,

contrary to common law...

No, we won't make indecent
disposal of human remains stick

in a month of Sundays, sweetheart.

- Oi! Who's interrogating who?
- Indecents are variable anyway.

But you've only to bury
a body under six inches

for it to count as a proper burial.

- And we never use less than two feet.
- Mum! - So we walk out the courtroom.

Well, I'm too scared to do that.

But he hasn't the guts to
stare himself in the face,

never mind Nora Attah.

You'd have more luck getting us
on the trade descriptions act.

But if you've any mercy for us at all,

you'll find another
claimant than Nora Attah.

So, if we identify another body,

Nora Attah doesn't have a
personal say in the sentencing.

- Wow, you've been doing your
homework, Missus. - No option.

- Right, for their sake, we need
to find another claimant. - Today?

Joy, are you joking?

Like we've got time to run
round skivvying after them?

I don't want to be stood
here in three weeks

when they both have their
throats slit, do you?

Well, to be honest, I wouldn't mind.

Miller, is there anything
to give us Jacky Kennedy?

Right, however cooked this
device used gold, not copper,

and we all know what that means.

No, no, Miller we're not all
on your bandwidth today, mate.

Look, just keep your
head tidy for me, yeah?

Jeez Louise. What, tidy?

- Yeah.
- For you?

Yeah.

What, the over-informed
single parent who lost her job

to a self-tampering Presbyterian?

So, you've the most opinions
on anything and everything

and every fucking body,
have you? Have you?

What if I have? Look, just yes or no.

Yes, well, bits are looking
a bit on Arndale, fine,

but that only narrows it
down to the Irish Sea.

Bomb was triggered by a
mobile phone, so all we do is

Snowden the incoming calls
to the nearest mast,

being the actual crucifix on the crem.

- The moment it went off, see
who pressed boom. - How long?

Yeah, well, the Home Office
need to sign off on it,

so have you ordered your tree yet?

- Cheeky...! - Miller, it's vital we
get the fingerprints from the bomb.

Am I the boy in the
fucking bubble or what?

There's no Irish dabs on that shrapnel.

No, not the fingerprints from the bomb,

the fingerprints from the fingers
of the bodies in the bomb.

What you want to swim
around that shit for?

We need one ID to save
the crem owners from,

well, cremation probably.

20 bodies, all Mancs, one of
them is bound to have a record.

Yeah, bound to. Well, all
the fingers are over there

in hamper number two.

I can show you what you need to
do, but we're struggling as it is,

- so...
- OK.

It's just saline you're injecting

to swell the outer layers
into readable tissue samples.

Whoa! No, no, not OK.

You want us to ID the fingers ourselves?

- No, Joy. - Er, Sarge...
- No fucking way, Sarge.

This is why I never joined the Army.

Get that lot to do it.

It all makes perfect sense.

Jacky finds out Herbie's dead,

knows his own dad's flaking imminently,

stuffs a bomb in Herbie's coat,
it only sounds stupid once it

didn't work and you didn't count
on the his old man pulling through.

But who -- and fair do's to Jacky --

who could have seen the Kornicks coming?

Why did I think it would
stink of piss and bananas?

- I've heard he's talking. - Yes. - Any
visitors since I was last here? - No.

- No phone traffic in or out?
- No.

- We're obliged to keep Jacky under
protection. - From Nora Attah.

Well, you just handed that
mad bitch a thousand nails

to put in my son's coffin.

All the press can confirm is
that we're sweeping for firearms,

which is standard practice
in turf-related negotiations.

And thanks to Jacky's performance,

Nora is convinced that she
is looking a total mug.

Jacky paid his respects, for God's
sake. Didn't put a foot wrong.

Oh, name single other time when he didn't.

I want Jacky brought here right now.

What, today?

Oh, Earl, are you fit enough

for the prospect of him
telling you a barefaced lie?

It looks like a dick after a night
out on E's, yeah, but watch.

I can only show you how to
do it if you're watching me.

Right, if you put too much
saline in, it's just going to pop.

But if we put just enough in and...

now it looks like every other
dick after a single jump.

Got one.

Right, can somebody drop everything
to get this one checked, please?

Wait your turn.

Number 21. There's one here
with a shovel in his head.

Today, Nora has every right to rip
the world apart, yet she hasn't.

We're thinking it's cos
of some suicide note.

Herbie suggested, in his
own writing, God bless him,

that he took his life to pay for her sins.

If Nora kicks back with bloodshed,

then she'll be dancing all over his grave.

That's a tenuous presumption
to base a plan of action on.

That's the reason nothing's happened yet.

But I do know Nora better than most,

and if we don't take full
advantage of her grief,

things won't stay quiet for long.

Earl Kennedy is alive and
recovering well upstairs.

- We can't afford to move him out.
- I'm suggesting we bring Nora to see him.

Absolutely not. So she can
blame him to his poorly face?

No, she's already blaming Jacky,

but if she can see for herself
what Earl's been parked,

she'll know he couldn't
have had any part in it.

That won't just make it go away.

No, but she'll have someone
senior to negotiate with.

- At whose cost? - She'll need to
come out of it smelling of roses.

That'll make two of you.

You're admitting to
disposal of how many bodies?

I supervised seven.

Me... about 13?

Well, 13.

For the tape, you're
taking full responsibility?

- Yes.
- Yes.

Deceptively disposed of.

- Yes.
- Yes.

How long until we're shifted
to witness protection?

Sergeant Freers is entering the room.

Right, Dolores Mavis May Kornick
and Gerrard Ethan Kornick.

I am jointly charging you
on suspicion of murdering

your husband and your father,

Ethan Stanley Brunswick Kornick,

at an unspecified time, but I
told forensics to work backwards

from your last defaulted gas bill.

No, he ran away with all the money.

He ran away, didn't he?

Not with a shovel in his head, he didn't.

- He didn't write that last
letter to me, did he? - No...

You spent the money and the
rest on them... on you again.

Don't be adding two more
years to your time, Dolores.

- Come on, get that down you.
- I've no appetite.

You need the carbs, you're in shock.

You're still shaking.

That'll be the faith in my own
judgment running down my legs.

Nora, thank you.

Good of you to come
under the circumstances.

Hello, Ern, I didn't know
you two were so close.

What happened to you today was sacrilege.

- I don't know what your plan is...
- Your son tried to take us all out.

- Nora, we don't know...
- Shut up!

This is not your business.

I think you're giving my
son far too much credit.

Just after the bomb, three cars,
known associates of your son,

were seen heading for London.

They only turned around and came back

when they saw your
transplant had been green lit.

Herbie's funeral, Earl, was your son.

I saw it in his eyes, so did she.

You harm one hair on Jacky's head

and karma will come at your other
kid like a fuckin' freight train.

Then get well soon.

If there was no deal to be done,
you wouldn't have come this far.

And you only heard me out because
of your son's dying wish.

For peace.

Go and define your peace.

None of this was sanctioned
by anybody I could identify.

Words again, Earl.

All right.

Here's some numbers.

From Mercer Street down to Bannick Lane...

I'll hand over to you, on one condition.

You leave my son to his own devices.

- Yeah? - Down to the
docks, including assets.

Assets? What assets?

- There's 40 girls there.
- You see, I would have called them women.

- It wouldn't work for you.
- As long as they're not working for you,

I don't care. They can rot.

With language like that,
you'll rot before they do, Nora.

Earl, make a deal.

Save your paddles. These
are positive beeps.

He's having a good think about his future.

Deal.

- D'you reckon she got what
she came for? - You tell me.

She's more faces than a town hall clock.

Hey, who's that? Him, the little shit.

Tintin! Send him in.

He can stay.

It's you, nobody in or out, yeah?

You will not be coming back to the house.

You have somewhere better to be now.

Your award.

The awards ceremony is taken care of.

Nora...

I've heard nothing from you
that follows through on promises.

Manny, get on the phones.

It was a gas main.

Stand down your protection team.

They will not be there when I get home.

I'm first to admit that
behind every great woman

there has to be a man saying yes.

But not tonight.

Now, I've seen first-hand what
strength, dedication, vitality

this officer brings to her job.

- Course, you know what's
going to happen now. - What?

Chicken Licken Lickberg,

she's going to want her name
all over those proceedings.

Well, no thank you, ma'am.

Success though it was. You said you
were going to wash your hands of it.

Oh! Stop, stop!

Turn back! Do a U-ey! I've left the shoes!

You said you were putting them
on so you wouldn't forget them!

Oh.

Now she doesn't know this,
and nor did I till today,

but applications to her unit are
five times higher than average,

naming her as their
main reason for transfer.

Amongst the outstanding,
she is truly outstanding.

If you get us to the gig,
son, I'll sign you off early.

Please put your hands together
for Inspector Vivienne Deering.

Oh, shit!

Oi! I'm being chucked about
like a bag of washing!

You stuck at 40 for her!

You're not the first, love. We'll
work it out when we get there.

Foot down. Make up for lost time.

But predictably, Viv's
out keeping the peace.

So to collect the award is her
most recently appointed protege,

so ladies and gentlemen, please
put your next hands together

for Sergeant Joy Freers.

Go on, Joy!

- Um...
- Better late than never.

After the day we've
had, you'll forgive me.

Always a gentleman.

Thank you.

At least she got name-checked.

- What is the female for Spartacus?
- I'm Spartacus!

So that's how she does
it. Plays one of the lads.

Yeah. And very well, actually.

I could listen to that on a loop forever.

Total opposite of the point
of promoting women, no?

Thank you. Thank you.

I'll probably get letters saying
that this is a mercy trophy

after the death of my husband
or a consolation prize

for the fact that we
haven't found his killer.

Yet.

But the Taliban were the only
mob not claiming responsibility!

So the best of luck to
all of us for that result.

But I can genuinely only
acknowledge this award...

.. on behalf of a team.

They call me team leader.

But they teach me an awful lot.

Thanks to DCI Lickberg
for her kind thoughts.

Had they not knocked
12.5% off our budgets,

I might have believed a word she said.

But let them hear this.

They'll regret making me inventive.

Tell my enemies...

.. they'll wish I weren't coming.

- So what do you reckon?
- Shit hole.

- Very nice.
- Compact and bijou.

Ooh.

- Where's the wine?
- Your fridge is locked.

Who has a lock on the fridge
when they live on their own?

I've still got builders on
a nearly three-day week.

Hey, Viv, I nearly daren't ask,

but why's he in the bin?!

Come on, we'd all shag him.

Now, don't get so picky that
we end up having to draw straws.

It tells you to get a grip
on what's credible, you know.

For your information, I couldn't
wait to get my hands on him.

But... he climbed out of the cab
with a voice like Mrs Merton.

Two hours of that? Oh.

He likes to dance both
on and off the floor.

Give over.

Oh! Oh! I'm having him.

Carrying on as if nothing's
happened is one thing,

but she was charging up and
down that stage like Susan Boyle!

And what's that "they'll
regret making me inventive"

supposed to mean?

Joy.

I said you've only ever to ask,

but this is the last time I'm offering.

Do you want to know
what actually happened?

Let's get on.

- Right, share that around.
- Will do, ma'am.

Right, guys, got cheese and
biscuits -- who wants it?

Ma'am... listen, um...

Something trickled down to me
today that I wish I'd never heard

and... I know what'll happen,

I'll get drunk and I'll say
it all wrong and in a temper,

so... it's best now.

I know what happened with Laurie's murder.

It's been filed past the
yellow line, hasn't it?

My nephew, he works in
the records office, ma'am.

The case for Laurie's murder's been
relegated beyond the yellow line

and everything beyond the yellow
line has been filed under NAB.

No active budget.

So I'm told.

Don't blame the lad, you
know -- he's just as gutted,

and technically, it's
trickled up, so, you know...

- Is that true?
- They're cold-casing it?

Are the CPS for fucking real?!

Oh, they so are, Spike.

Ladies, I...

But it's with my full consent.

After 13 months, 110 men,
three forces chasing tails,

it's unaffordable by any stretch.

I was going to tell you all on Friday.

All the disciplines are agreed.

The death of my husband

wasn't part of somebody's big plan,

it... It was just a...

Just a big day for a shitty little nobody.

Look at my face.

I'll never let this case go.

What if it were better
for me if you did, Spike?

We're 200% with you.

Aren't we?

You say you want closure, we're... 200%.

Hey, you need to move on.

I need to get drunk, Spike.

Sorted, eh?

I'll take the wine.

Got the drink!

To teamwork.

Hey, how's the party
going? What am I missing?

Miller's self-medicating.

We've only just seen a proper
drink, so still early doors.

I requested a shift change.
You said about half an hour?

Right. Well, I'll find us a
cubbyhole for a quick jump

- when you get here, then.
- You're on.

- Oi! Idiot!
- Oi! Stop!

Oi!

What the hell?

Kim Garvey. 22 February
2002, so that's Pisces.

- Earl, hang in there, mate.
- Yeah, you can make it through this.

Shut the fuck up!

Echo-2-6-5-1-1.

Earl Kennedy's been stabbed,
need a forensics unit.

- Big smile.
- Need a...

We need some help!

We all in? Where's Viv?

Viv!

- Come on, Viv! - Come on,
ma'am. - Come on, take it.

Viv!

I don't use kids.

You used one to kill Earl Kennedy.

- Inspector, this is a complete...
- Shitstorm?

- Let me go back to the case.
- Why? So you can jeopardise it even more?

Shift!

If she doesn't let me put this down to bed

we're going to be partying like it's
the Salford riots all over again.

That black bitch's head is going
to roll right down the alley

for what she did to my da.

- Got family trapped, second floor.
- Do not go near that building.

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