All language subtitles for New Tricks S02E01 A Delicate Touch.DVDRip.NonHI.en.ACORN

- Shall I go ahead?
- Yes, of course.

Just like Gerry to
keep us hanging about.

He never was that reliable.

I'm sorry.

Coffins always make her cry.

It's a bit flimsy looking.

Plywood. Be
through it in a week.

Where the bloody
hell have you been?

Don't, I've had a nightmare.
It's not all over, is it?

That was always my line to him.

I'm sorry, everybody.

It's all right, we've just been slotting in
a pauper's funeral whilst we're waiting.

- An hour late for your grandson's christening?
- I didn't mean to.

I suppose when it's your funeral,
you'll be late for that as well.

Do hope so.

♪ It's all right, it's okay

♪ Doesn't really matter
if you're old and grey

♪ It's all right,
I say, it's okay

♪ Listen to what I say

♪ It's all right, doing fine

♪ Doesn't really matter
if the sun don't shine

♪ It's all right,
I say, it's okay

♪ We're getting to
the end of the day ♪

You look good in
blue, don't you, son?

- Gerry!
- What?

You're supposed to wet the
baby's head, not set fire to it.

That's very kind of you. Come
on, everybody, drinks are on Brian.

I want you at that presentation
in one hour, and preferably sober.

You know, it was a woman who
drove me to drink in the first place.

Yeah, yeah, and you
forgot to write and thank her.

In those dark days, one of
the greatest comforts to me

was the unstinting
effort and dedication

of the officers involved in the
investigation of David's death.

And as David's widow, it gives
me great pleasure to present

the David Barrie Award
For Policing Excellence

to the new Deputy Assistant
Commissioner, Robert Strickland.

And this initiative has been
very successful, apparently?

Well, we've been very fortunate.

Superintendent Pullman is
being unnecessarily modest.

UCOS's clear-up
rate is tremendous.

Mr Strickland thought the
rest of your team might be here.

Yes. I suspect they've had trouble
getting away from a prior engagement.

Rossie!

- Ah, memory lane!
- I thought you'd been embalmed.

Excuse me. I'll be right back.

Oh, guvnor, guvnor!

- DS Pullman.
- Ronnie Ross.

- "The Mountie." Living legend.
- Always got his man.

Oh, not quite. Case in point.

Blimey. Course.

DGB. David George Barrie.

Husband, barrister.

Murdered in, what, 1980?

I was the governor. That's how
I came to be involved in all this.

I helped Yvonne
set up this award.

- Who's the stiff with her?
- Our new boss.

Let's go find out
what he thinks of you.

Seems like a nice girl.

It must be the money,
then. Is it good?

- Oh, yes.
- Very.

What, are you all paid the same?
It's not based on former rank?

Now!

Go on.

Yvonne Barrie, Deputy Assistant
Commissioner Robert Strickland,

Jack Halford, Brian
Lane, Gerry Standing.

Thanks for coming. I just wanted to say
how pleased I am to be taking over at UCOS.

I've been very impressed by
your achievements up to now,

and I'm looking forward to working with you.
I think it's going to be a very exciting time.

- Excuse me, Robert.
- Oh, yes. Excuse me.

- Have I told you about...
- I want to have his babies.

I want to congratulate you
on all your success with UCOS.

Your record speaks for itself, both
before and since the unit was established.

Thank you, sir.

I know part of you is disappointed
at missing out on promotion,

but heading UCOS is a very
good place to be right now.

I assure you, I completely...

Especially if you can find a
way to rein in its overspend.

If you and I ensure that the resources at our
disposal justify themselves cost-effectively...

Well, logistics dictate that things
such as office equipment, petrol...

I'm talking about the men.

I also think it's a good idea
to begin prioritising cases.

Grading them according
to their chances of success,

their importance,
impact, etcetera,

rather than whether one is simply
more interesting than another.

Do you agree?

To which end, I think
you should start with this.

I'm hoping for a fulfilling and
productive relationship, Superintendent.

Enjoy.

Well?

You ask him?

- Who?
- Jack.

I asked him.

Did you?

Didn't wanna know.

- Didn't he?
- No.

Well?

What?

How much?

How much?

Money!

You first.

Okay, if that's how
you wanna play it.

Aye, that's right, I
talked to you earlier.

Yeah. Well, my
name is Brian Lane.

Aye, and I need to know
my exact salary, you see,

so that I can put a deposit...

Password?

- He wants us to investigate David Barrie?
- My password.

Yes. Strickland sees it as the
sort of case that we ought to be...

- Ronnie Ross's case?
- Yes.

What did Strickland win
the award for? Bloody cheek?

- Cricket.
- Cricket?

He got a load of inner-city kids
and made them a cricket team

and took them on a nice
cricketing tour to the Caribbean.

Listen, listen.

"Cementing and enhancing positive
ties between the separate cultures

"through the medium of sport."

I'd like to enhance his medium.

He's trying to make a point.

He's just got an award from the man's
widow, so now he wants to go on...

- Solve the mystery of the husband's murder.
- Exactly.

- This is not a debate. Gerry, get on with it.
- Right.

You do that work on the board?

Yeah. That's why I've
been in all morning.

- What, all of it?
- Yes, all of it.

- I did happen to be a copper, you know.
- I still say it was a typing error.

Thank you. Okay?

Right. Now, at approximately 4:45 a.m. on
the morning of the 5th of December, 1980,

the body of David George Barrie was found
slumped across the front seat of his Mercedes

in the NCP car park
in Brewer Street.

He'd been bad...

It's all right, carry
on. Don't mind me.

Right. Um...

Barrie had been badly beaten.

Forensics indicate that
he'd been bound and gagged,

and that the bindings
had been removed.

They think he was tied
up with pink silk rope.

Death was caused
by internal bleeding,

possibly some time after
the injuries were inflicted.

Sorry?

When does death occur
before injuries are inflicted?

I.e., death was not
necessarily instantaneous.

DCI Ross's investigations were quickly able
to eliminate the deceased's wife as a suspect,

along with his work colleagues.

The main suspicion fell
on a series of defendants

who were found guilty at trials that
Barrie was Chief Prosecuting Counsel at.

Starting with Matthew Tombs,

imprisoned March 1976.

Released '79. Re-arrested and in police
custody at the time of Barrie's death.

Jake Ireland, sentenced 1979.

Died in prison, June 1980.

Stefano Maretti, '73?

Deported to Italy on
release, September 1980,

so out of the
country at the time.

Michael Pendle, '72.

Released April 1980...

April 1980? Well,
maybe that means

that he was in circulation
at the time of Barrie's death.

When Pendle was sent down,

he shouted he hoped Barrie
would die "a long, painful death".

- Lovely.
- Okay. Find him.

Go through witness and suspect statements
and check them against the HOLMES computer

and see if anyone has
subsequently come up on file.

Also, contact Forensics and get them to
re-examine everything that's been retained.

Have you got any observations
you'd care to make, sir?

Only that I want to stress
the importance of this case.

It's clear that Barrie was a decent family
man dedicated to the criminal justice system.

And while it's not about looking after our
own, we still have a duty of care to his wife,

and to the memory of a man who
earned our respect and gratitude.

Any questions?

Will you excuse me, sir?
What's that aftershave?

It's cologne. It's
from Barbados.

Was that from your
cricket tour kind of thing?

The Crack Cricket Tour
was an undercover operation

using Black officers to ID crack
cocaine dealers across the Caribbean.

Never had a DAC who
wore cologne before.

Jack, do you know how
much each of us gets paid?

Yeah. But we don't just
do it for the money, do we?

No, it was before
Area Murder Squads.

Resources were at a premium.

I had 30 men working
non-stop for the first four weeks.

But then gradually, it got cut down
to, well, a couple of skeleton staff.

You're saying it was
a lack of manpower?

I'm saying that didn't
help, as I'm sure you'll find.

So, being how rare it was,

what else do you put down to
your lack of success in this case?

Ever investigated the
murder of a barrister?

- No.
- No.

I don't know anybody
else who has, either.

Don't mind me. I'm kidding.

Of course, I worked
my balls off on this case,

and yes, there were several suspects,
but we had no joy on any of them.

The killer was either very
lucky, or extraordinarily clever.

Too clever for me.

Anyway, I wish you luck.

You'll need it.

- Two acres?
- Two and a half.

Two mill?

Two and a half.

Two cars?

Don't be bloody silly.

I'm sorry it took so long.

You've got a lovely house.

That was taken about
five months before he...

- Before he died?
- Yes.

I was pregnant with Emma.
Charlie was about one at the time.

We're very sorry to have to put
you through all this, Mrs Barrie.

It's all right, I
understand. It's just...

after so long, to have everything suddenly
brought back to the front of one's mind,

it's difficult to
come to terms with.

Now, on the night in question, your
husband was working late in chambers.

- That right?
- Yes.

That was why I
didn't ring him until 10.

When there was no reply,
I waited until after 12:30

before ringing the
hospitals and the police.

They thought I was
unduly concerned.

Until they arrived here
at 5:00 in the morning

to tell me that they had found
David's body in the car park.

And you've no idea who may
have been responsible for this?

No. I still don't.

David was very highly
respected and admired.

And you've never remarried?

David was the love of my life.

He was my life.

When Ross interviewed Pendle, he
had him giving a "satisfactory alibi".

It's not very specific, is it?

If Ross said it was
satisfactory, it was.

Any joy?

Pendle's last known address
was in Brentford in 1980.

Two months after Barrie
dies, he disappears.

And I mean, vanishes
completely. Nothing.

And nothing on the computer.

We tried matching him against Inland Revenue,
National Insurance, VAT, Vice, Deed Poll.

Passport Office, Local Authority Council
list, Voting Register, even Interpol.

Nothing.

Well, he can't just have
evaporated, can he?

What, you mean, like a drink?

- What do you want?
- Nice pint of bitter, please.

- Tonic water?
- I'll come and choose.

What's to choose?
How many bubbles?

What can I get you?

Could I have a pint
of bitter, please, and...

- Water, fizzy.
- Coming up.

Are you fully cognisant
of the size of my packet?

Is it big?

I mean, as packets go, would
you say mine was particularly...

Or just...

Ah, here.

Jack, when you said we don't
do this job just for the money,

what did you mean?

- There you go.
- Lovely. Cheers.

Yeah, you're right. This Strickland's turning
out to be a bit of a hard hitter, isn't he?

What if he's dead?
Pendle. Murdered?

Missing Persons. Done that.

Might not have reported it.

What?

- Yes.
- A bit of a cold fish, is Yvonne Barrie.

Right. Thank you.

- Found him.
- Pendle? How?

He did change his
name, but not by deed poll.

DVLA. A person may
not want to be found,

but they'll still want to keep
their driving licence up to date.

What's he called now?

Michaela Pendle?

You were dragged from the
dock shouting threats at Barrie.

Yes, well...

have you any idea of the psychological
and emotional turmoil a body goes through

when it's subjected to that
kind of hormonal barrage?

- Not personally.
- Volcanic.

The drugs I was on, every
day was a possible eruption.

- Sounds to me...
- You killed a man.

When that happened, I
was about to change sex.

Less than two weeks away
from my final operation.

Even the judge was sympathetic.

Not Barrie.

Barrie said I was
perverse, manipulative, sick.

1972.

The jury agreed.

You're on record as saying
you'd kill Barrie when you got out.

Michael. Not me.

Because of Barrie, I spent nine extra
years trapped inside a man's body.

In jail.

Can you imagine what my
co-habitees made of that?

And Barrie called me sick.

You were found guilty of murder.

Yes, and once was enough.

I'm not sorry Barrie died. He
was a despicable human being.

But I didn't kill
him. I couldn't.

- Oh, yes?
- The night Barrie died, I was in hospital.

The Middlesex. Ross checked.

And if it was good enough for him, you
two can shove it where the sun don't shine.

It's always a pleasure
talking to a lady.

Mercury?

Or Saturn?

Probably the asteroid belt.

- What?
- Transsexuals.

What are you talking about?

Well, if men are from Mars
and women are from Venus,

where do transsexuals originate?

The moon?

The moon!

Of course. Yeah, the moon.

All right, Esther, imagine
you're a transsexual.

Oh, Brian, do I have to?

No, no, no, bear with me.
Look, you're a man, right?

- Well, make up your mind.
- No, you're a woman

cursed by a cruel twist of fate to
inhabit a man's loathsome shell.

But then you have the prospect of
transgender reconstructive surgery

miraculously made available.

Only for it to be snatched away from you at
the last minute when you're sent to prison,

thereby condemning you to nine more
excruciating years as a hermaphroditic mutant.

- Do I have any children?
- No, no, it's immaterial.

- I don't know, I think...
- No, no, no! Listen.

You don't have any kids, right?

The point is, when you get out
of jail and finally become whole,

would you wanna kill the person responsible
for delaying your sexual catharsis?

- This is a case, isn't it?
- Might be.

- Brian, are you all right?
- Yeah.

I enjoyed the christening.

Everybody did. He
spent a lot of money.

- Who?
- Gerry. He paid for it all.

Gerry?

What the hell are you doing?

Don't you worry
about what I'm doing.

What were you saying to
Sandra about me in the pub?

- Sandra?
- Yeah.

You're bloody paranoid!

Me? Do the words "pot", "kettle"
and "black" mean anything to you?

What are you
doing? Let go of me!

- Where'd you get the money for the christening?
- Get off me!

- Esther told me how much it cost!
- Get off, Brian!

How can you afford all that, eh?

It was a 33-to-1 at
the 3:30 at Thurso!

Bollocks! You're a bloody liar!

Jesus!

Give it back!

Listen, I'm getting
the hump now!

Give me the hanger!

Morning.

What are you doing?

Tripped over a chair.

- That one.
- I've seen better fights over handbags.

So, girls, shall we
kiss and make up?

Now, Pendle. What have you got?

Hasn't put a foot wrong
since he... she came out of jail.

Any progress?

Well, so far, our findings
seem to mirror those of...

No, actually, I'm hopeful that
Forensics will have something for us.

- They've still got quite a lot of stuff to go through.
- Good.

Good.

- Was that wise?
- Yeah.

I think it's wiser than having him believe
that Ross's enquiries were exhaustive.

Listen, if The Mountie...

Always got his man, how
come he didn't get this one?

Tallis!

Mr Halford! It's been
a very long time, sir.

- I was very sad to hear about your wife. Terrible.
- Thank you.

Shall we go into my office?

You're greatly missed, Mr Halford,
especially on the big occasions.

With the CPS, you're lucky
now ever to see a real policeman.

Time was a murder was
something to look forward to.

Now? Tawdry.

- No thoughts of retiring, Tallis?
- Me?

- Why, how long did you stick it for?
- Oh, I'm not back as a policeman.

No. No, of course not.

- So?
- I need your memory, Tallis.

I knew several of the barristers here,
but I never came across David Barrie.

What was he like?

Busy. Always on the go.
You never saw him in action?

Fearsome. Rarely let one slip.

A "result brief", I think your people
called him. Police liked him a lot.

- And you?
- Oh, yes.

He was found dead in Soho
in the middle of the night.

Was he the sort of brief
who might have had clients,

- meetings in Soho?
- Oh, very possibly.

Well, as I say, he
was always very busy.

Difficult to get hold of.
Couldn't pin him down.

Well, not me, anyway.

Mr Barrie was the sort of man who
was always tied up in meetings...

if you know what I mean.

Thank you, Tallis.

You're a gentleman.

Why are you doing this?

- Doing what?
- Persecuting me.

If I was persecuting you, I'd
send somebody else to do it.

Michaela, what did
you mean when you said

that David Barrie was a
"despicable human being"?

Were you speaking
physically or morally?

Oh, please, don't pretend
you care what I think.

I do. We want to know.

- Did you ever work Soho?
- Yes.

So did Barrie, albeit a
bit before your time, dear.

He spent so much time kerb-crawling,
his nickname was "Sweep".

That sounds like
sour grapes to me.

Look, it's bad enough
being tried for murder.

When you know the brief who
spent all day in court badmouthing you

is going to spend the same
evening with his mouth wrapped...

- He picked up prostitutes?
- So I was told.

I wasn't privy to his
personal penchants.

How do you know he had any? How
do you know anything about that world?

1972?

What sort of a world do you think a
transsexual was allowed to inhabit

to be herself?

Then, I suppose for some of
you it was the good old days.

So, in the weeks before your
husband died, he seemed quite normal?

- Normal? Absolutely.
- Thank you.

Didn't seem worried
about anything?

No, not at all. He was
looking forward to the birth.

Yeah, of course. And
your relationship was good?

- As per normal?
- I don't know what you're trying to say.

Well, we're just trying to find out
whether David had anything on his mind,

anything that might have
affected his behaviour.

Towards me?

Oh, well, not only you, no, but
obviously, you being pregnant...

What has my pregnancy
got to do with it?

Well, sometimes
people get depressed.

I think you'll find that's
usually the woman.

I don't know why you're
taking this line of questioning.

David was happy. We both were.

He said that a second child
would make our lives perfect.

These are delicious.

- "Oh, these are delicious."
- Well, what was all that about her being pregnant?

Eight months?
It's difficult. Painful.

- What?
- Sex!

It could be the reason why her old
man chose to dip his bread elsewhere.

You are, aren't you?
You're obsessed.

No, I'm knowledgeable. And
I'll tell you something else.

If he did have a secret sex
life, she knew bugger-all about it.

What were they called, them biscuits?
- Chocolate Olivers.

- Expensive?
- Very.

What, buy a couple of
packets a week, do you?

All right, that's it. Go
on, go on, out you go.

Go on, get out!

I've had it with you. I'll
see you back at the office.

Oh, bloody hell!

- Jack. Come in, come in, you're soaking.
- No, no, no, it's just a quickie.

Look, when you were working on the case,
did you ever hear any rumours about Barrie?

Jack, you know there
are always rumours. Why?

It's just I was going through the case
file and I realised there was no Book 40.

I always kept a personal record
of my cases, and I wondered,

would you mind if I
took a look at yours?

Not at all. I'll hunt it out and
I'll drop it by tomorrow, yeah?

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

It's all right, it's his birthday.
We're having a whip-round for him.

- Do you know her?
- No.

- Why? Do you want to?
- Definitely not.

What? She's just
servicing a need.

Look, some men can't
get what they want at home.

They have urges.

- Haven't you ever felt...
- No, I haven't.

"Some men".

Some men put mayonnaise on
their chips. Doesn't mean it's right.

- Yeah, the French do that.
- Exactly.

Vinegar or ketchup.
Anything else is perverse.

I wasn't talking
about their chips.

You're an animal.

Yeah,

and what if I was
very, very naughty?

Oh. Really?

And if I don't
obey at all times?

A cattle prod?

I can't take much more of this.

Go on. You love it!

"Do you need firm handling?"

Sorry, sweetheart,
I've gotta go.

"Selina. Your submission
is my satisfaction."

Well, Selina's clearly a soul mate
of mine, but why are you ringing her?

S&M. Isolating
specialist practitioners.

Not having much luck, though.
None of them are old enough.

Of course they're
not old enough.

None of this lot will have
been around 20-odd years ago.

And even if they were,
they're not gonna talk to you.

Why not?

Because it requires
a more delicate touch.

- You mean a woman's touch.
- Yes. Come on.

- Oh, not again. Can I not stay here?
- Definitely.

Did Rossie come
in with the book?

Ross?

He said he'd drop by,
see how things were going.

Keep your hands on the desk.

What if I actually wanted
a proper massage?

- Well, you wouldn't go to a massage parlour.
- Where would I go?

A masseuse.

- And how much would she cost?
- Depends what you wanted massaging.

My back.

Ah. Well, that would depend
how much you've got to spend.

I mean, what can you afford?

Oh, well, money is a
bit tight at the moment.

No joy?

Well, couple of girls go
back to the '80s, but...

- What?
- Well, it's just this whole network.

All these women. I didn't
know you worked Soho.

Gerry, let's face it. What
do you know about me?

Okay, now what?

Drive. I'll tell
you when to stop.

Okay?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sorry.

Soon as we've been through
it, I'll get it back to you, Ronnie.

- Hey, great to see you.
- And you.

Yvonne. How are you?

All right.

I just came in to go over
aspects of the original enquiry.

I'll... I'll leave
you to it, then.

I was hoping Superintendent
Pullman might be here.

It's all right. Mr Lane was one
of the men who came to see me.

Mrs Barrie is slightly concerned
at how this case is proceeding.

In particular, the need to ask
questions of a private nature.

- We were simply trying to...
- I did try to explain to Mr Lane

how stressful it was to have
everything uncovered again after so long.

Yes. Yes, of course.

I've reassured Mrs Barrie that
UCOS's track record is impeccable,

that we are aware
of our responsibilities.

I know it's difficult for you to say,
but how long will it take, all of this?

- Well, it's still very early days...
- Maybe more important,

if you don't succeed,
how long before you stop?

I presume there's a limited
amount of time and money.

It's a difficult
question to answer.

I understand. I think
you already have.

Smell that coffee.

My goodness! Chief
Inspector Pullman!

Superintendent.

But of course. That
is as it should be.

A great woman. Immense.

But tardy. Where have you been?

Mazood, forgive me,
I have neglected you.

Ah, it's forgotten.

- These are my colleagues. Mr Standing.
- Nice to meet you.

- Mr Halford.
- How do you do?

Now, Mazood, we're investigating
a case that happened 25 years ago.

So we need to speak to somebody
who remembers Soho back then.

But there are very few of us.
As rare as rocking-horse shit.

We're trying to identify some of
the working girls from back then.

Oh, yes. Many of
them shopped here.

And at that time, I had an
extremely large sexual appetite

and a profound and practical
interest in such ladies.

But to remember them?

Very difficult.

Well, we're actually looking for
a particular type of practitioner.

- Indeed? Go on.
- S&M.

Oh, this is more simple.

You have Miss Domina Trixie,

Lady Lawdown, Queen Kong

and Leather Lorna
from Liverpool. Nice girl.

Was there anyone a
little bit more upmarket?

As in, expensive?

This is very specialised.

Oh, yes.

One very expensive indeed.

- Hello?
- Superintendent Pullman, Metropolitan Police.

Bye, darling, got to go.
Think I'm being raided.

- Elaine Wanless?
- What can I do you for?

Am I right in thinking that in a former
occupation you were known as, er...

Tessa Thrash, queen of the lash?

No gain without pain.

Is this a purely
professional enquiry?

When did you cease to be...

When we were both a lot less
mature, darling. It's a young girl's game.

- And since then?
- I'm a presenters' agent.

Ah-ha.

They need rather more delicate handling,
but are just as inclined to suffer.

Yeah, well, I wouldn't mind
suffering with their money.

What was the exact nature
of your former occupation?

Subjection, correction, domination,
humiliation, animalisation...

Animalisation?

Treating them like dogs.

Collars, leads, making
them bark, that sort of thing.

- Restraint?
- That as well.

And how would you
restrain your subjects?

Handcuffs.

Leather straps, belts,
barbed wire, cords...

Silk?

To tie them up. Would you
ever use silk cord or rope?

Sometimes.

Do you recall any of your more
influential customers from back then?

Oh, yes.

Any members of
the legal profession?

They tended not to tell me
what they did as real people,

apart from the odd policeman.

I kept a short list of
those I recognised.

Was he on it?

Sure?

- Who is he?
- David George Barrie, barrister.

You don't remember the case?

Mm-mm.

He was murdered. Found beaten
to death in his car not far from here.

He'd been, um, "restrained".

Sorry.

Okay. Never mind.
Thanks for your help.

- What do you reckon?
- Unconvincing.

I bet she was very convincing
with a big whip in her hand.

Short of beating her up ourselves,
I'm not sure how we can prove it.

What is it?

I was just wondering
what she used to wear.

What? I'm just putting
myself in the situation.

Right. 1 1:00 p.m. Go.

He walks quickly,
but not too quickly,

say, approximately 3.3 miles per
hour, as he crosses Mortimer Street

and continues on
down Berners Street.

The streets are empty. A
steady yet pacey stroll south...

Hello there! You all right?

Now, just a minute. I know you.

- I don't think so.
- Aye, I know you!

- You are a friend of mine.
- No.

Are you saying that you
and me are not friends?

- That we are not old pals?
- No, I'm not saying that.

You're too good for me.

You're too big and
clever to have pals like me

- ever again!
- No, mate.

Believe me, I used
to be just like you.

What? Scottish?

Pissed.

And he crosses Oxford Street.

Minor inconvenience
from late-night traffic,

but no particular hiatus
in his onwards progress

as he carries on
down Wardour Street,

which, although a thriving,
busy thoroughfare during the day,

at this time is
populated only by...

- Got the time, have you, sweetheart?
- Sorry, no, it's set to the stopwatch function.

No, darling. I'm asking
if you've got the time.

Four minutes and
35 seconds past 1 1.

The time! Have you got the time?

I've just told you, it's five past
1 1. What's the matter with you?

Why don't they just come out
and say it when they're gay?

Wankers.

Brewer Street. Turn right
and reach the car park.

Seven minutes and 45 seconds.

Can I help you, sir?

Oh, yeah. Listen,

do you think it's possible to walk
here from the Middlesex Hospital,

tie somebody up,
beat them to death,

stuff their body into a Mercedes

and make it back to the
Middlesex in less than 45 minutes?

65 to Control. Backup,
please. Brewer Street. Over.

No, no, it's safe to let him go.

Yes, I agree he
is a bit strange,

but I don't think he was actually
planning to brutally slaughter anyone.

Yes. Cheers.

You know, Mary, that
Brian is bloody weird.

I think that Strickland's
been in here.

You should stop.

- Stop what?
- Smoking.

Surprised you can afford it.

Cor, squeak up.

Morning, Brian. You all right?

I am in exceedingly good shape.

So much so that last night I walked
half a mile in less than eight minutes.

- Thanks for that call.
- Lovely shoes.

From The Middlesex
Hospital to Soho.

Brewer Street car park, where
Barrie's body was found. Pendle.

- Yeah, he was in the Middlesex, but what's...
- No, no, not in, at.

He wasn't a patient, he
was a night porter. It's in here.

So he could go from here to here

and back again to the
Middlesex in less than an hour.

What's that?

- That?
- It's a Book 40. Ronnie Ross's.

- Book 40?
- Years ago, some officers leading a case

would keep a log, a diary, and jot down
things that cropped up during the course...

I know what a Book 40 is.

Are you telling me that Ross kept
one during the original investigation?

It wouldn't necessarily contain
anything we don't already know.

So why didn't he hand it
over with the rest of his notes?

- It's just a personal record...
- Yeah, which he kept back

until you asked for it.

So, is there anything else
in there that we need to know

about Pendle and
Barrie and Wanless?

- Wanless?
- Miss Whiplash. S&M.

We think she might have been Barrie's, um,
private trainer, if you see what I mean.

- Elaine Wanless?
- Yeah.

She's in Pendle's trial
notes. She was his girlfriend.

The first time we spoke,

you were rather disingenuous
about the night Barrie died.

I don't know what that means.

Michaela, you run a bookshop,
you know exactly what it means.

Listen, you told Mr Halford you
were in the Middlesex Hospital

the night Barrie died.

What you didn't tell him was that
you were working there, not a patient.

I know this because DCI
Ross made a special note of it.

I rang the hospital to confirm. They
checked their records and rang me back.

Given my experience
of the police,

why should I tell you lot anything
except the bare minimum?

Yes, fair comment.

Except for the fact
that as a night porter

you could have made it from the
Middlesex to Soho and back again

in less than half an hour without
anyone else being any the wiser.

An hour even.

- And do what?
- See your girlfriend.

- Girlfriend?
- Miss Thrash. Elaine Wanless.

The bouncer you killed
was Elaine Wanless's pimp.

He'd roughed her
up, your girlfriend.

So you sought him out and beat
him to death. Crime of passion.

I need hardly remind you,

a second conviction for
murder means life without parole.

I told Ross and I told you, I had
nothing to do with David Barrie's death.

So, have you finished?

- For now.
- Good. Bye-bye.

Brian.

You have a criminal record.

During your time as a prostitute
specialising in correction,

a string of fines
and convictions.

For soliciting and keeping a
disorderly house. Goes with the territory.

We can prove that he was
bound with pink silk rope,

i.e., restrained
before being beaten.

He was found in his car less
than 200 yards from your dungeon,

itself not much more than an eight-minute
walk from the Middlesex Hospital.

What was he killed with, an A-Z?

I told you, I didn't
know David Barrie.

He was the Prosecuting Counsel at
your boyfriend, Michael Pendle's, trial.

- So?
- So you saw him in court.

I never went to court. Michael's
solicitor didn't want me there.

They thought I
would be unhelpful.

When Michael got out of
prison, you or he engineered it...

- All right.
- Hi, Ronnie, come in.

So that Barrie became
one of your clients.

I haven't seen Michael in over 30 years.
I haven't seen him since he went inside.

You haven’t got
anything, have you?

I know, because if you had, you wouldn't
be trying to coerce me into confessing.

He'd be a serving officer,
this would be on tape,

and you'd have cautioned,
arrested and charged me.

In which case, as the saying
has it, I think I'm free to go.

First prize in an
arse-kicking competition.

Check with the Prison Service.

She never visited him once the
entire nine years he was inside.

I still don't see why there's no mention of
Wanless in the case notes or your Book 40.

Because by the time of Barrie's
death, Pendle had already had the op.

They weren't boyfriend and
girlfriend any more. He was a she.

Okay, what about Pendle's alibi?

You only wrote what it was
in here, not the case notes.

Night porter. Pretty
solitary occupation.

How could you be sure he didn't
leave his shift and come back?

I couldn't.

But what I was sure of,
there was no forensic evidence

linking him to the body
or the scene of the crime.

But more important,

the Pendle I interviewed I knew was
incapable of killing another human being.

How?

Because he'd finally
become what he wanted to be.

He always wanted to be a
woman. The hate had gone.

Hang on, are you saying that
you knew Pendle wasn't involved

not because of any lack of evidence,
but because of some kind of gut feeling?

Based upon my experience.

You're not serious?

Oh, fine. So we just bow
to your superior guesswork.

- Intuition, not guesswork.
- What's the difference?

Intuition is when you get it right.
Guesswork is when you get it wrong.

It's 2005. The Met
doesn't do intuition.

So, what were you drawing upon
when you interviewed Wanless?

When you had no proof of her
involvement in Barrie's murder?

Despite what you say, everything points
towards Pendle and Wanless killing Barrie.

- Really?
- Oh, yeah, and you know it.

And for what it's worth, you're
right, I do have gut feelings.

And mine is you blew
this case on purpose.

You know, I have a funny feeling
of déjà vu. Let's see if you share it.

Have you any proof?

No, I thought not.

Now let me tell you something.
You don't know anything.

When you do...

give us a call.

- That was not good.
- That was unfair.

Yeah, well, if life was fair we'd
all be paid the same, wouldn't we?

The Mountie didn't get his man
and I'm going to find out why.

Ronnie Ross.

You remember Ronnie, Mary.
Tough, had an edge to him.

But fair, always fair.

Can you see any reason why this
one, of all the cases he worked on,

would get away from him?

Pendle and Wanless? Don't know.

No, no, no, no. The
sex aspect is immaterial.

Love? No. It's been 35 years.

Besides, he's a woman and
she's an agent. It isn't an issue.

Of course I still love you,
Mary. Why would I stop?

Oh, Mary. Mary!

Hello, darling.

Should get your
breath back first.

Bloody hell, you scared me to
death. What are you doing here?

- I could ask you the same question.
- I tailed her, Wanless.

God, you are old-fashioned. I
simply rang Directory Enquiries.

- You never guessed they were an item?
- No, no, not guesswork.

I simply deduced that we'd
laboured under a false assumption.

Good evening, ladies.
Any chance of a cuppa?

You said you hadn't seen Michael
for over 30 years, but not Michaela.

Very clever.

- It wasn't a lie.
- Not literally.

What I don't understand
is if you're still together

why you never visited Michael
all the time he was in jail?

I told her not to. I made her
promise. I wanted Elaine to have a life.

I'd made such a mess of ours.

And I knew when I got out I was going to
be a woman anyway, so what was the point?

And it never occurred to me for a moment that
she might still love me, no matter what I was.

That she might still
do anything for you?

Elaine didn't kill
Barrie, neither of us did.

Ask Ross if you
don't believe us.

What I want is for you to tell me
exactly what you told DCI Ross

about the events on
the night that Barrie died.

But I warn you, if you lie to
me, then it really will be life.

Barrie had been a
client less than a month.

- Then you did know him.
- No! Not his real name. I swear it.

I saw him five, maybe six times.

He liked being hurt.

Each visit his treatment
got more and more severe.

I was getting worried but...

Well, the customer
is always right.

And on that night?

I tied him up as normal,
if you know what I mean,

and I used a truncheon.

Anyway, the session ended,

and then when he was getting
dressed, he just sort of collapsed.

What did you do?

I went through his pockets,
looking for an address or something.

That's when I found out.

His name meant
nothing to me. Truly.

I rang his wife. She didn't believe
me. Slammed the phone down.

I didn't know what to do.

So I rang Michaela
at the hospital.

She came round.

When I saw him I
couldn't believe it.

This is the man that
nearly destroyed my life.

And then I thought
it must be fate.

That he'd been put into my
hands on purpose so that I could...

Then I realised I
couldn't kill him,

that there are worse
things for a man like Barrie,

better things you could do.

Right, so, Pendle
as Michael, a man,

is in love with Wanless, his girlfriend,
who's a woman and a prostitute.

Pendle goes to jail,

but then he comes out again
nine years later, still a man,

only to find that Wanless, now
a sadomasochistic prostitute

but still a woman, wants to take
back up again with him, her, well, him.

He has the op and becomes a woman, but
they're both still in love with each other,

only now, being a woman, he's a lesbian,
and so she's become a lesbian as well?

Well, more or less, yes.

Blimey. And you thought
my sex life was complicated.

Love, not sex. They
love each other.

The only reason Ronnie Ross
wouldn't pursue these people

is because he knew
they didn't kill Barrie.

No. But he always knew
more than he was letting on.

How do you mean?

Ah.

First of all, I think
I'm right in saying

that on the night your husband died
you made a phone call just before 10:00,

- and several more after midnight.
- Yes.

- Do you remember receiving any calls?
- No.

None at all?

Why do you ask?

Well, in 1980 it was impossible to
obtain a record of calls made or received.

BT didn't itemise them.

I've... told you
before, I rang...

- You all right, Mrs Barrie?
- Of course, I'm sorry.

This is the actual car park space
where Mrs Barrie's husband was found.

You say you never
received any calls?

Which is odd, because we've discovered
that you did receive a call that night.

From a woman. You didn't
believe her, what she told you.

In fact, you screamed at her
and slammed the phone down.

And some time later, about an
hour or so, you got another call,

from what sounded like a man.

Only this time you did believe
what was said. Am I right?

The caller told you that your husband
had been with the woman who rang earlier.

That she was a prostitute.
A particular kind of prostitute.

That she tied him up,
gagged him and beat him.

Because that's what David
liked, Mrs Barrie. Am I right?

I asked the caller why,
why he was doing this?

He said because my
husband had made him suffer,

that he could make
him suffer by telling me.

He said he was in a car in Soho.

I should get there
before the police did.

So I got in my car. I had to
take the baby. I came here.

He was in the car,
just as they said,

slumped, conscious,
just staring.

I asked him if it was true
about the woman, that she...

what they'd said about...

But he tried to pretend,

tried to deny it.

But I knew. I knew
it was the truth.

So what did you do?

- Do?
- To your husband.

You think I killed him?

No. No, that's just
it, I didn't do anything.

I should have... I should have helped,
I should have taken him to the hospital.

But I couldn't. I couldn't.

I told him that I didn't
ever want to see him again.

I told him he would
never see the children.

I told him...

I told him I wished he was dead.

Then I left.

He broke my heart.

I owe you an apology. I made a
judgement on you based on what I'd heard.

- Intuition?
- Yeah, something like that.

Well, don't be too hard on yourself,
you've only been in the job 17 years.

- It's changed. I wouldn't know where to start.
- Oh, I think you would.

Can I ask you a question?

When did you first realise
that Yvonne was involved,

that she'd already
been to the car park?

An hour into the investigation

I went from the scene of the
crime straight round to her house

and when I interviewed
her, she lied.

- She said she hadn't been anywhere.
- How'd you know she was lying?

- Cat.
- Cat?

It was December. Freezing.

And when I got to the house there was a cat
asleep on the bonnet of Yvonne Barrie's car.

Now, what cat goes to sleep on a
car in a frost unless the engine's warm?

Unless it's been driven?

If I had a pound for every
time he's used that one.

"Death by misadventure."

I think that is the only
logical conclusion, sir.

And it's also my belief that DCI
Ross originally thought the same.

Unless you think there's a case
for charging all three of them,

Wanless, Pendle and
Mrs Barrie? Thank you.

Wanless didn't
intend to harm Barrie,

and Yvonne's own admission that her husband
was still alive in the car park... Thank you.

Takes Pendle completely
out of the equation.

I think that the best they could have hoped for
was a charge of manslaughter against Wanless.

So Ross must have realised there was
no point in trying to secure a conviction.

This is all subjective.

Your job is to review the
evidence and present the findings.

Excuse me, what about
the Wanless client list?

What client list?

We couldn't refer to it in the report,
but Wanless kept a list of her customers.

- Seven judges, five QCs and what was it?
- Four.

Four senior Metropolitan Police
officers all above the rank of Commander.

- We didn't ask their names.
- No.

Nobody killed Barrie.
He just liked it rough.

Afternoon, sir.

Thanks, guys.

And you. You should have realised
that Pendle was a lesbian straight off.

Why?

She had a cat.

Oh, right! All lesbians
have cats. I'll write that down.

File it under
"Standing: Intuition".

- Is he paid extra for that?
- No, only me.

- Hold on, hold on.
- Does he get more than us?

No. Only God knows why not.

♪ It's all right, it's okay

♪ Doesn't really matter
if you're old and grey

♪ It's all right,
I say, it's okay

♪ Listen to what I say

♪ It's all right, doing fine

♪ Doesn't really matter
if the sun don't shine

♪ It's all right,
I say, it's okay

♪ We're getting
to the end of the day

♪ High tech, low
tech, take your pick

♪ 'Cause you can't teach
an old dog a brand new trick

♪ I don't care what anybody says

♪ At the end of the day ♪