All language subtitles for New Tricks S02E08 17 Years of Nothing.DVDRip.NonHI.en.ACORN

Kempton?

2:30, Fat Chance, £5 to win.

3-to-1.

3:30, £10, Abi Clappy, to win.

5-to-1.

Morning.

Wetherby, 3:00, Mission
Accomplished, 20 quid on the nose.

It was 16-to-1.

- What are you doing?
- Gerry's bets.

Last week his
winnings amounted to...

£1,873.

- Well, I hope you're pleased with yourself.
- Jack.

Yes, you see, because of you,

I didn't put any money on them.

These are the bets I would
have made if I was still gambling,

but now I'm reformed, now
it plays no part in my life,

I can't stop bloody winning!

Don't read the papers, then.

I'm a man. We all read
the papers. Backwards.

Starting with the
sporting pages.

♪ 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 ♪

Morning.

This is Professor Ian Mears,
the Home Office Pathologist

for Southeast London.

I've just been telling him how
passionate you all are about your work.

October 1987,

I was a humble
pathologist based in Catford.

Do any of you know Catford?

- Oh, yeah.
- Yeah.

One particularly wild
and windy morning,

I was summoned to an area of
deciduous woodland just inside the M25,

where an errant schoolboy
had recently discovered

the partial remains of a
young female. Giston Mount.

- It that her name?
- It's where we found her.

The remains comprised
little more than a few ribs,

a thigh, half of a hip and
portions of the digestive tract.

However, there was clear
evidence that the remains

had been
semi-expertly dissected.

Ergo, it became
a murder enquiry.

Unfortunately, our failure to identify
the victim saw the case stall, stutter

and subsequently
cease altogether.

- Professor Mears...
- Call me Reynard.

- I thought your name was Ian.
- I don't like Ian.

Professor Mears has spent a great deal
of time attempting to restart this case.

Unfortunately, without success.

However, I read about
your exciting new initiative

and I thought, "Ha ha, perfect!"

Now, I have conducted
5,723 postmortems

and yet these remains

remain my only
unidentified victim.

But since 1987,

advances in clinical
and forensic pathology

have meant that our chances
of success have improved...

- What, dramatically?
- Exponentially.

So it's a mystery. And
like all good mysteries...

Mysterious?

Clearly the bulk of material
pertaining to this case

resides out with this sample,

but I have managed to collate,
categorise and catalogue

the vast bulk of the evidence.

And I leave copies here for
you to acquaint yourself with.

So, shall we say
tomorrow at my lab?

We usually have biscuits
around 10. They're my treat.

- Au revoir.
- Bye-bye.

- Au revoir.
- Bye.

I take it all back.
You're perfectly normal.

17 years. Still anonymous?

- Sir, this is...
- I know.

Unfortunately, Professor Mears
has support from a very high level.

His lab is in West Wickham.
The address is on the box.

WOT.

I didn't say anything.

- No. WOT.
- W-O-T, Waste Of Time.

That's my girl.

There. Yeah, that's
what I was talking about.

- There, and there, and there.
- Yeah.

Sawn. Semi-expertly.

Surgeon, butcher?

Baker, candlestick-maker?
Who's to say?

Good morning.

- Ah.
- Aha.

- Did you read this?
- I started.

Reynard supplemented
an essentially conventional

identification and
data catalogue system

with a binary index code,

so that no two items ever appear
without complementary references

or an explanatory addenda.

I wondered if that was it.

It is unusual, it's unique
and in relation to Millicent...

- Millicent?
- It's what Reynard calls...

- Millicent. And as such quite...
- Invaluable.

They're starting to finish
each other's sentences.

We can unfreeze her, if
necessary, to take samples.

How old when she died?

- 18 to 25?
- Not much there, is there?

- No, but...
- There's something.

- Isn't that why UCOS...
- Came into being? Absolutely.

It's a load of skin and bone
with no identifying features.

We know bugger all about her.

On the contrary, we
know a huge amount.

She's female, aged 18 to 25,

- red hair...
- Red?

Bright red.

Also, she'd eaten a meal recently
of some kind, meat, blood group O.

And, of course, I've since
managed to codify her DNA.

We found pollen
grains on her body,

which were unrelated to the
area where she was found.

And last but not least, Millicent
was suffering from syphilis.

Encouraged by your interest,

I have managed to arrange to
have re-testing of tissue samples.

- Tea and biscuits, everyone?
- Oh, yes, please.

- Why Millicent?
- My daughter's rabbit, after the fox got her.

Do you know what's
great about this case?

It's nearly impossible.

I'm sorry, how does
that make it great?

Right. Well, then, if we
are going to succeed,

most important of all we
need to find out who she was.

Who was Millicent?
Then, why was she killed?

How on earth did she manage
to disappear without trace?

And why did the
killer cut her up?

To remove all
identifying features?

Ease of transportation,
disposal and/or concealment?

He was a nutter. Oh,
sorry, psychopath.

Gerry, you check with the original
SIO. DCI Tom Powell, wasn't it?

Retired.

Oh, excuse me, could you
open the door for us, please?

Brian, you liaise with Professor
Mears and take over forensics.

Jack, go through the files, and I'll
try and track down Michael Megson,

- the boy who found...
- Millicent.

Yeah, Millicent.

- The right identification.
- To take the whole thing on again.

- It's not logical, though.
- No, no, hang on.

- Of course, it is.
- Shush! Shut up! Bloody hell!

Right. Jack, one at a
time. Missing persons?

Blank. I also went through the
National DNA Database. Nothing.

Well, that's not
a surprise, is it?

And because the killer seemed to
have some knowledge of anatomy,

DCI Powell had checked
every doctor, vet and butcher

within a 20 mile radius
of the wood. Nothing.

M25 is just down the road. Killer
could have come from anywhere.

How was Powell? Did
you get anything out of him?

Saliva. Saliva, as in dribble.

No, he's in a nursing home. Ga-ga.
Thought I was the Commissioner.

Oh, completely ga-ga.

Me and Reynard had a great day.

- He's got this fantastic assistant.
- Blimey, now there's three of them.

From measurements
taken from the thigh bone,

they've worked out an idea of
Millicent's size and shape, weight even.

Five foot seven, eight
stone, skinny, ectomorph.

- Ecto what?
- Ectomorph.

Where a person's
build is characterised

by lightness,
weakness, lack of weight.

Intellectual processes,
inhibitions, alertness predominate.

- Like Esther.
- Oh, thank you.

As opposed to endomorphs,

who are big-boned, heavy,
sluggish, prone to fatness.

- Like you, Gerry.
- Thanks very much.

Great. So that narrows it
down to, what, about a million?

No, it's much less than
that. She's got red hair.

Well, now we've got
something to go on.

I'll just get some
more water, shall I?

- You lot are hopeless.
- Why?

Five foot seven, thin, 25 to 28,

it could be his daughter.

- I contacted Megson.
- Uh-huh.

The boy who found Millicent?
We spoke on the phone.

When I told him about the scene
of crime, he agreed to take us there.

Oh, good. BRIAN: Great.

- What, to the woods?
- Yeah.

Well, it would be a good
idea to go and see it,

and anyway, it might
help jog his memory.

Yeah, good thinking, Batman.

Esther, thank you so much. That
was absolutely lovely, but I'm full.

Thank you.

- You're not leaving that, are you?
- Brian.

Look at all the meat on that.

Michael Megson? I'm
Superintendent Pullman.

Can you prove it?

October 17th,
1987, you were here.

- You were 10 at the time, am I right?
- No. Nine and three quarters.

And this is the first
time you've been back?

No. I've been back a few times.
You know, over the years. To try and...

- It must have been quite a shock.
- Big shock.

- You were alone?
- All the doctors said so.

Yeah, I'm sure. Shall we?

Yeah, this way.

You know, I still suffer
from the after-effects.

- PTSD.
- PT what?

Post-traumatic stress disorder.

Ulcer, eczema and then there
are the neurological symptoms.

Well, that's the
country for you, isn't it?

I mean, you never hear
people in London saying,

"That's what's wrong with
the people in the country.

"They don't understand
the city," do you?

Well, I understand the country,
all right, too bloody well, mate.

There.

Come on!

This is a very unusual place.

I mean, you can feel
things in there. Hear things.

What sort of things?

I don't know. It's just
a feeling, just strange.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't.

- Can't what?
- Go in.

- Stop messing around, Gerry.
- No, no, I mean it. I can't.

I'm sorry. I can't
go into the woods.

- I understand.
- No, you don't.

It hasn't got anything to do
with funny noises and eczema.

- It's hylophobia.
- What?

Hylophobia. Fear
of forests and woods.

I've had it since I was a kid.

Why, did something
happen when you were...

Oh, come on. Look, just
leave it, will you, Brian?

Okay, well, you wait here,
and we'll see you in a bit.

Yeah, thank you. Thank you.

It was a bit different back then,
more broken and fallen down trees,

and a bit more light in
parts but, you know, just as...

- How's the ulcer?
- Yeah.

Here. This is it.

- So, where were the...
- Bits?

Remains?

There and there, and there
was also a piece just there.

Weird.

See? I told you.

Listen.

Okay, I think that's enough.

It's on a ley line, Giston
Mount, did you know?

- No.
- Been there since before the Romans, ancient.

You know, some
people think that that's...

We'll be in touch if we
need to see you again. Okay?

Okay.

- Bye-bye.
- Bye.

You forget, don't you? They're out there
in general circulation, the strange ones.

You don't think he could've
done it, do you? Megson?

I mean, maybe he was on
drugs or something and it...

- He was just 10.
- Nine and three quarters.

Well, nine-year-old
boys can be fairly evil.

- Is that from personal experience?
- In a wood?

Hang on. Pullman.

No, no, we're not that far.
We could be right with you.

Okay, we'll see you
in a minute. Bye-bye.

That was the Professor.
There have been developments.

- Good morning.
- Morning.

Ah, I don't think you've met.

This is my assistant,
Victoria Lawless.

- Vicky. Hi.
- Hello.

Victoria is currently
researching her PhD.

Hello, Vicky. I'm
Gerry Standing.

Brian told me about you, but I
had no idea that you were such a...

- So what have you got for us?
- Yes, first things first.

While waiting on
the forensic results,

I looked at the original notes.

It's clear that the partly digested
meal was not simply meat,

but some kind of sausage.

Well, how did you work that out?

Because of the
make-up of the sample.

84% meat, 14% fat, 2% salt,

plus pepper, saltpetre
and certain trace elements.

No, that's not sausage
meat. It's salami.

Saltpetre with that much salt
is a long-lasting preservative.

And I would guess that the peppercorn
was either whole or part-cracked

- and not grounded, am I right?
- Yes. Yes, you are.

- Yeah, I know a bit about food.
- Brilliant.

Unfortunately, we're going to have
to wait for the results of the new tests

before we can isolate
what kind of meat it is.

It's probably pork with maybe beef
and even donkey as an outside bet.

Donkey?

Yeah, they use it a lot in Sardinian
salami, and other parts of Italy.

Now, the real problem you've got is
there are masses of different types,

like French, German,
Danish, Hungarian.

I mean, there's over a
hundred odd types in Italy alone.

There's a little delicatessen
that I use where we could...

- What else?
- Ah, well,

marks on Millicent's
bones are highly consistent

with her having been
extensively masticated.

Given where she was found, that
would suggest it was by wild animals.

- Foxes or something like that?
- No, not foxes.

How do you know?

Well, tell me if I'm right.

Foxes or any member
of the dog family,

usually gnaws at bones

leaving striations
before the bone breaks.

But here the bites go
straight across. They're clean.

No. Whatever snapped this had
much bigger and more powerful jaws.

Textbook.

Was there any evidence to suggest
that the victim had been drugged?

Impossible to say, given
the state of the remains.

You mentioned some
unusual pollen grains.

Have you had any
further ideas about them?

- Yes, we have. They're from the ginkgo tree.
- Ginkgo?

Ginkgo Biloba? Also known
as the maidenhair tree.

Originally from China and probably
the world's oldest deciduous tree.

Planted a lot in the States because of
its ability to withstand urban pollution,

but in this country mostly found
in domestic and botanical gardens.

Not rare but unusual.

I like to garden.

You have the most remarkable
team of detectives, Superintendent.

Oh, yes. Everyone an expert.

I'm now looking to DNA and
bone marrow to try and extrapolate

more specific
information about her.

Hopefully, in the next few days.

Exciting.

Jack, you believe in the
spirit world, don't you?

Do you think it's possible

for a particular place

to retain the spiritual
residue of a crime

that may have been committed
in that exact same space?

What?

Could the gruesome
elements of a crime

result in a person's
spectral essence returning

to re-inhabit the locale where
it had once been expunged?

Well...

Or is it just Megson
planting images in me brain?

You know, making me see things?

The power of auto-suggestion can be
immensely strong in certain situations.

That's what it is.

So when I think I've seen
things or heard things,

yeah, it's just that.

A representation
of a mind construct...

resulting from

an earlier and pre-existing

illusory projection.

It's possible.

- Thank you, Jack.
- You're welcome.

- Mind the paint.
- Yeah, yeah.

- Where have you been?
- He's been with me, Esther.

He said he was
going for a takeaway.

I don't think he
was that hungry.

Thanks, Jack.

Esther.

What do you think, Mary?

Can you explain it?

Him? Brian?

I mean, is it really possible for the
spirit of something to remain behind,

taking hold of a
particular place?

Why? How?

I mean, how could that happen?

So the killer starts
off with an entire body

and reduces it to portions.

He cuts off the
head, arms and legs,

but in this case,
thigh's still attached.

Night.

Hmm.

Legs.

Esther?

Esther?

Ow.

So young, and to die so...

- Oh, it's a horrible way to die.
- Is there a good way?

Yes, in bed, at home, surrounded
by your friends and family.

Yes.

Gerry and Brian not in yet?

They've already been and
gone, checking out Special Clinics.

How was Brian?
Did he seem a bit...

Good morning. And it is a
good morning, I promise you.

I bring you tidings
of comfort and joy.

Really?

Is, um... Is Mr
Standing not here?

Gerry? No. Why?

Victoria, uncork the genie.

You will recall that Victoria
was awaiting certain tests.

Well, these are they.

Yale University has devised
a computer programme

that analyses thousands of human
DNA samples taken worldwide.

These samples show patterns within the
DNA that isolate the donors geographically.

On feeding in Millicent's DNA, the
programme examines it for similar patterns.

The greater the number of hits,

the more certain we can be
about where her DNA originated.

Millicent's are the red dots.

Historically, it's clear that Millicent's
DNA is most likely to have originated here.

Scandinavia.

Denmark or Sweden?

This would explain why she's
not listed as missing in this country.

Ah. Alas, no.

It merely tells us where
her antecedents came from.

Oh, she came over in a longship?

So, what's the point?

Well, there's Viking blood not just
in Scandinavia, but all over the UK.

- Scotland, Ireland...
- Northeast England.

That's where Victoria
comes into her own.

Well, you're not a Geordie.

My PhD deals with the
mineral content of human bones.

As we grow, chemical
elements in the water we drink

are absorbed into
our skeletal system.

By analysing the
isotopes of those elements

we can match them to geological data
to reveal where the water came from,

and thus the
person who drank it.

As they were growing up?

That's what I've
done with Millicent.

Once we have those
results, coupled with these,

we should be able to narrow down
her place of origin considerably.

I, um, I also made progress
with the stomach contents.

Ah, that's why you
wanted to talk to Gerry.

Well, I wanted to
congratulate him.

He was right. It is
some kind of salami.

Danish?

Ah, don't know.

He's...

He's very appealing,
isn't he, Gerry?

I mean, he's so eager
and so responsive,

so interested in what
you're saying. It's rare.

He reminds me of my dad.

What a lovely person you are.

I said it was a Special Clinic.

Yes, I know you said
it was a Special Clinic.

And I thought that
meant it was special.

You know, like it dealt
with special illnesses.

You didn't say
anything about the clap.

No, no, no, the clap is
historically slang for gonorrhoea.

We're talking
about syphilis here.

Yes, okay, 4:30.

Yes, I'll see you then.

Okay, bye-bye.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

- My name's Gerry Standing.
- Do you have an appointment?

- No.
- Well, I'm sorry, the clinic is appointment only.

No, no, we're not here for treatment.
We're here on police business.

- Oh.
- You see, the Met's been inundated

with patients complaining that their
files have been accessed illegally.

So we need to check your
computer system safeguards

to ensure that this
clinic isn't vulnerable.

Okay, take a seat.

Thank you.

Syphilis is a
notifiable disease.

The names of all the patients will be
held here via a nationwide database.

We just need to access
lists of female patients

three months
before Millicent died.

Why only three months?

Because if you get a dose,
you're not going to hang around

before you get it
looked at, are you?

I mean, it's a month,
two months at most,

- before the symptoms begin to...
- Mr Standing?

- Do you want to follow me?
- I certainly do.

- Begin to what?
- Shut up.

Right, so how far do
you want me to go back

so I don't see any of your
current patients' names?

10, 1 5 years?

- Well, then 19...
- 87?

- Yeah, fine.
- Yeah, all right?

I take it you haven't
been here all that time.

- Longer.
- No!

- Mmm-hmm.
- Blimey.

All those people,
all those afflictions.

- Well, I never get to see...
- No, please, no, don't.

- Must put you right off, though?
- Put me off?

- Yeah, you know?
- No.

- No?
- Well, not that I've noticed.

Oh!

- Oh, no! Look what...
- Don't worry.

- Oh, sorry!
- I can just get under and pick them up.

Thanks.

- It's okay.
- Is it?

Yeah.

Oh, did you bang it?

That's the first time I've
banged it under a table.

- Why are some blue and some red?
- Blues for the males.

Just grab hold of that for me.

No, it's fine.
Everything's fine.

Good.

Well, you could think about putting in a
firewall but that's probably not necessary.

- Okay. So will you need to come back?
- I won't.

Yeah, maybe. You never know.

- Okay.
- Thank you very much.

- Bye.
- Bye-bye.

- What?
- She liked you.

Yeah, I know. Scary, isn't it?

- Gynophobia.
- What?

That's the fear of women.

You ever try and
do anything about it?

I'm not afraid of women.

No, I mean the woods
thing? The hylophopia.

Well, yeah. Yeah, a few
times, including the other day.

Didn't work, did it?

What are you doing?

I've...

I've got to be in, well,
out early this morning.

Oh.

- Jack.
- Morning, Esther.

- Look, I'm sorry about the other night.
- Not at all.

If you'd shot him, no jury
would convict. Is he in?

No, he's already gone.
He said he was in early.

Oh, right. Bye.

Is it possible

for a particular place

to retain the spiritual
residue of a crime

that may have been committed
in that exact same space?

Could the gruesome
aspect of a crime

result in the victim's
spectral essence returning

to re-inhabit the locale where
it had once been expunged?

- Good morning, sir.
- Morning.

Okay, let me get this right.

So far, she's a red-headed Viking's
granddaughter who likes sausages.

Pork salami, actually.

Yeah, but there's more to it
than that and we need more time.

Look, it's very laudable that you
should want to solve this case,

but in reality, it's impractical
and I think unsolvable.

Do you want to bet?

With all due respect, that's exactly the
reason why we have to continue with it.

Look, the bastard who killed her was
convinced that he could get away with it,

which of course he
has for the last 18 years.

So if we solve this
unsolvable crime,

then no one will doubt the Met's
commitment to the pursuit of a murderer,

no matter how hard
or how long it takes.

Sorry, but that's what I think.

No, no. It's all right. You
can be very convincing.

Okay, carry on, for now.

Mr Strickland, 20 quid?

Done.

What?

Bloody hell.

You know what that is?
- A wild boar.

Shy, intelligent and
bloody dangerous.

There's loads, apparently.

Whole colonies of them across the
south of England, inside the M25 even.

I think we made one simple mistake
right at the beginning of this case.

- What was that?
- We didn't check the weather.

"One particularly wild and
windy morning", as Mears put it.

You remember how Megson said
that in '87 there were lots of fallen trees

and gaps in the
woods? October 1987.

- Oh, the hurricane.
- Exactly.

Woods were wrecked,
buildings and fences,

including those
belonging to farmers

who had only just started to breed
wild boar imported from abroad.

- And the wild boar escaped.
- And multiplied.

- So, this is the animal that chewed up Millicent?
- Must be.

Wild boar, like pigs,
will eat anything.

Yeah, but hang on. No killer is
going to dump a body in a wood

just because he knows that wild boar are in
there, because it leaves too much to chance.

I agree. I think he murdered
and butchered Millicent

when the wild boar
were still in captivity,

somewhere where
there was a Ginkgo tree.

Then the hurricane arrived.

- And the boar escaped.
- Taking Millicent with them,

or at least bits of her.

Are you saying the killer
fed Millicent to the boar?

Or the boar dug her up
from a shallow grave?

I'll tell you something else.

The meat in that salami could
easily have been wild boar.

"If you go down to the woods
today, you're sure of a big surprise."

That's not funny, Jack.

Hmm, bloody true though.

What's that?

It's a list of women treated
for syphilis in London

in the three months
leading up to October '87.

- How did you get the names?
- Don't.

It'll only upset you.

Blimey! It's ridiculously long.

Well, better make a start then.

Okay, find out which ones are dead
and then see if any of them had red hair.

I suggest that Gerry
works on the list,

you and Brian go and see Vicky
and the Prof, ask about the salami,

and I'll try and find out where
wild boar was being farmed

prior to the '87 hurricane.

Cheers.

Wild boar?

Gerry assures me it
makes delicious salami.

Fantastic! I'll have it
checked. Show them your toys.

I got the results back on
Millicent's bone analysis.

This is the programme that allows
us to isolate various mineral isotopes

according to their
geological origin.

This is Millicent. I
feed her in and...

Western Scotland. Western
Highlands of Scotland, in fact.

Even better than that,

it's actually a narrow corridor
stretching from Loch Broom in the south

to Loch Shin in the north.

You can be that precise?

Well, in urban
industrialised nations

because people are now
drinking so much bottled water,

it's becoming more tricky.

But in the Western Highlands...

People in rural communities
tend to drink the local water.

Especially more
than 30 years ago.

Millicent's almost
certainly Scottish,

Western Highland Scots.

Red hair, Viking ancestry.

- Blood Group O. Celtic-Scandinavian.
- Precisely.

We're getting to you,
Millicent. We're getting to you.

Excuse me. Pullman.

Where?

Tuckford House, country seat
of one Lady Anthea Deeley.

Entrepreneurial estate
owner, farmer, game specialist

and breeder of wild boar.

- And Giston Mount?
- Three miles that-away.

Lady Deeley is expecting us.

Guinea fowl, pheasant, partridge,
quail, deer, as well as boar.

Have you had
carpaccio of wild boar?

- Not as such, no.
- It's very good.

How long have you been
in the wild game business?

20-odd years. Although it's only
really taken off in the last decade or so.

But you've been farming
wild boar all those years?

Since 1982.

- Do you remember the Great Storm of 1987?
- Yes.

We suffered a fair amount
of structural damage.

Did any of your wild
boar escape as a result?

We're not interested in
the legal consequences.

I did lose one or two.

- We managed to recover most of them.
- But not all?

- They're very...
- Shy, intelligent.

If they want to hide, it's
pretty hard to locate them.

We're trying to identify a young
woman aged between 18 and 25.

Slim, red hair, five foot seven.

Do you recall anyone who
fitted that description at the time?

No. No, I don't think
so. I'm pretty sure of that.

- What happened to her?
- She died.

How many people do you employ?

Now, 25. Some of them part-time.

Then, probably just under 20.

And you know all of them?

I make a point of it.

- Do you mind if we take a look round the estate?
- No.

Long as you buy something.

All right, bye-bye.

- So how did you get on?
- No sign of a Ginkgo.

What about Lady Deeley?

- She's no shrinking violet, that's for sure.
- She's certainly not.

They must have come from there.

No one else farms
wild boar for 20 miles.

How about you?

Well, we checked the clinic list
of women treated for syphilis in '87

against all girls born in the Western
Highlands between 1962 and 1970.

- How many were there?
- Six.

We've been trying to track them
down via last known address.

Six. Is that all?

Well, it's the Highlands, one
man and his dog's a crowd.

- Very kind of you to ring back...
- Trouble is we've traced four so far and...

Of course, just 'cause she was brought
up there doesn't mean she was born there.

Right?

Yes, and how old was she?

Right.

I see.

Well, you don't really need to.

No, of course.

Okay, well thank you very
much. That's very helpful. Bye-bye.

That was a Mr and Mrs Alec
McCloud from Ullapool in Scotland.

They last saw their daughter Fay

in July 1986.

She was 24 and had red hair.

They're coming down.

Mr and Mrs McCloud?

Hello, I'm
Superintendent Pullman.

There really was no need
for you to come all this way.

Aye, we know.

It may not be your daughter.

Superintendent, it's
been 17 years of nothing.

Nothing at all.

In which case, would it be all right
if we took a sample of your DNA...

- Yes.
- In order to prove one way or the other

- if it is Fay who we've found?
- Yes, of course.

Thank you.

- Where's Jack?
- Hey, listen to this, listen.

Lady Deeley lists her hobbies as

"game, gardens and
men, exotic or otherwise."

She also lists her
husbands, four,

and her divorces, four.

You could be number five, Gerry.

- Sounds like you were made for each other.
- No, thanks.

She's loaded, isn't she?

- What, you honestly think I'd marry for money?
- Only lots of it.

Pullman, UCOS.

I'm at the farm shop,
Tuckford House.

There's something I think
you should see, all of you.

Oh, it's worth
the drive, all right.

There you are.

What the hell is it?

"Woman in despair."

"Tuckford's famous
garden, circa 1980.

"Sadly, the mature
Ginkgo tree pictured here

"vanished within a few
years of the photo being taken,

"falling victim to the
Great Storm of 1987."

Now you see it,

now you don't.

- You said she died.
- Yes.

- You didn't say she was murdered.
- We don't like to upset people.

I'm still somewhat confused over
your renewed interest in Tuckford.

We believe that the
victim was killed, cut up,

and her remains disposed of
by feeding them to wild boar.

- Part of her was found at Giston Mount.
- Which is only just three miles...

I know where it is.

The boar ate her there. Isn't that
what you implied the other day?

Well, now we
think she died here.

And was fed to the wild
boar while they were here.

But when the storm flattened the
fences and the wild boar escaped,

they took the remains
with them to Giston Mount.

The body, or
what was left of it,

had grains of pollen on it which
couldn't have come from there.

Ginkgo pollen.
Not a common tree.

And although you
don't have one now,

you did then.

You say "you" in such a way
as to imply my involvement.

I don't think that's very wise.

Well, it might not be very wise,
Lady Deeley, to get smart with us.

I don't get smart with
anyone, my lawyer does.

Perhaps it would help
remove any misunderstanding

if you could tell us where you were
at the time, if you can remember.

I remember exactly.

In September and October '87,

I was in Romania, the
Carpathian Mountains,

searching out
livestock suppliers.

I didn't return to the
UK until November,

where I spent the
next couple of months

overseeing repairs to the
damage caused by the storm.

Would you like to see
my passport of the time?

Ginkgo. Wild boar. Salami.

- Made from wild boar.
- All linked to Lady Deeley's estate.

But motive? Not a
sausage. Salami, even.

Lady Deeley didn't do this.

Call me old-fashioned,

but women don't tend to chop up
other women and feed them to pigs,

not even over other men.

She had 20 people
working for her at the time.

So if it wasn't her we're going
to have to track them down

and talk to each and
every one of them.

Goodness. This
is where you drink?

They told me across the
road that you were here.

We've had the results of the
DNA tests on the McClouds.

Of course, you realise that these
modern tests are much more sophisticated...

- Is it her?
- What?

Is Millicent Fay?

Oh, yes, yes.
Without a doubt. Yeah.

We last heard from Fay

in April '86.

A phone call.

And after that we lost touch.

We never heard from her again.

Did you ever try to find her?

No.

Fay was difficult,
very difficult.

She was an only child and
the truth is we spoilt her.

She started getting
into trouble in her teens.

- Nothing big but...
- She went to the best schools,

but she rebelled, you know?

She was expelled
from two of them,

so we put her into a school
that had a good reputation

for dealing with
troubled children.

The irony is Stallourie Academy
is where she started using drugs.

We paid for her to attend
rehabilitation, counselling courses, we...

We put her through detox
twice, no, no, three times in all.

It didn't matter, though.

She would always
go back to the heroin.

Didn't seem to want to fight it.

Oh, in the end we...

We realised that we
couldn't help her and

we decided...

We decided to cut
all contact with Fay.

Excuse me.

I thought with money, with
being able to do things for Fay,

it would make life easier for
her than it had been for me.

I realised too late that we
were part of the problem.

Where was Fay the last time
you heard from her, do you know?

Oh, London somewhere.

She knew people down here.
Friends from school, I think.

- And that was in April 1986?
- Mmm-hmm.

Oh, photos.

That's her.

This is her in a school play.
She loved the drama, you know?

And this...

This is how I like
to remember her.

Thank you for bringing
us here. I'm so grateful.

It...

It means a lot to us.

What are you doing here?
This is a proscribed area.

Get out or I'll
have you removed.

I've just been to Islington.

Family Records Centre.

- You know, births, marriages, deaths...
- Divorces.

Look, I have given you
more than enough of my time.

This is simply ridiculous,
not to say downright rude.

Lady Deeley, or may
I call you Anthea?

This is a young woman
called Fay McCloud.

24 years old,
red-haired, from Scotland.

Your shy, intelligent
wild boar ate her.

I told you, I wasn't even here.

Okay. So who looked after
all this while you were away?

My husband.

Now, is that husband
one, two, three or four?

David, my first
husband. David Hendry.

And then you divorced
him. When was that?

I don't remember exactly.

You'd be the first divorcee
in history who couldn't.

It was not a
pleasant experience.

Any divorce is bound to be
the cause of unhappiness.

Really? I was delighted
with all of mine.

- So it wasn't amicable then?
- No, it wasn't.

Sorry, we've got to talk about this.
When did you file for divorce exactly?

October '87.

And did your husband
give you something?

Something you didn't want?

And where did you
go for treatment?

You're not on our file.

I was in Romania when I
found out I'd caught the disease.

I'd been entirely
faithful to my husband,

so I knew he was the only
possible source of infection.

When I came back I challenged
him over what had happened.

He was furious. He
denied it. He lied.

So I told him I
was divorcing him

and that he would get nothing.

And in answer to your earlier
question, I was treated privately.

Very wise.

Have you got a picture of him?

Did you retain contact
after the divorce?

Only through the courts.

After the split, I found out he had
been siphoning cash out of the company

to start a secret
business of his own.

To do what? The same thing?

No, toys. Cheap, nasty ones.

I didn't even find out until the decree
nisi that he was a registered heroin addict.

But then I've always had
disastrous taste in men.

Here we are. That's David.

I only kept it because it has
some rather dear friends in it.

I burnt the rest.

Hang on a minute.

What are you doing?

Fay's school play.

He's the villain.

Evil villain.

You stay here in
case he does a runner.

"Good morning, my name is Detective
Superintendent Sandra Pullman."

"And this is Jack Halford."

"How do you do? Welcome
to my salubrious emporium."

"And what can I do for
you?" BRIAN: "Well..."

Oh, no, hold on. Look, he's trying
to sell them the business now.

Yeah, you're right.

"I'm a purveyor of the finest
plastic yachts this side of..."

"And is business good?"
BRIAN: "Oh, very good."

Jack's had enough of that old
flannel. "Now, wait a minute."

Hold on, no, he's holding
fire. What's he saying?

Oh, I know.

- "Do I detect the hint of a Scots accent?"
- Oh, yeah, very good.

"Yes, but I wasn't
actually born there."

Then the guvnor comes in.
"Did you go to school there?"

And he's saying, "Why, yes."

And Jack says, "Whereabouts?
Near Edinburgh?"

- Oh, that's stopped him.
- Yeah.

Now he's going to take
a step back. You watch.

Our people don't move.

"Stallourie?"

Yeah, he's beginning to freak.
"Yes, don't you remember?"

Now he'll either rub
his hair or lick his lips.

Two out of two.

Now for the big bomb, "Stallourie,
where you met Fay McCloud."

Show him the photo.

Show him the school
photo. Oh, very good.

"There's Fay and there's
you. Remember her now?

"You introduced her to heroin."

No, he denies it.

Now Jack wades in with,
"Killing her, chopping her up

"and throwing her to wild boar."

Now big pause.

- What's he doing?
- I don't know.

Well, I've never
seen that before.

I want to thank you
for all you've done

and so does my wife

because I'm retiring.

- Ah.
- Oh.

I didn't think I could.

Not until I'd really
found Millicent,

or Fay, as she is now.

- And you've done that.
- Well, with a little expert help.

Vicky's going to
help me tidy up.

I'm afraid I'm not very
good at saying goodbye so...

- Au revoir, then.
- Bye-bye.

- Vicky.
- Bye-bye.

- Bye.
- Bye, Vicky.

Bye, Brian.

- Sweet man.
- Sweet girl.

Yeah, she likes you, too.

- You remind her...
- Of her dad. Yes, thank you.

- How do you know? Have you told him?
- No.

It's all down to experience. I
understand exactly how women think.

Oh, really? That's why you've
had three marriages, is it?

- I think I need another drink.
- To experience!

What time do you make it, Gerry?

Two minutes to nine.

- Okay.
- Off you go.

I'm afraid it's not possible for
you to interview David Hendry.

Oh, don't tell me.
Psychiatric reports.

Is this about lawyers?

Hendry was found hanged
in his cell at 8:30 this morning.

Apparent suicide.

I'm sorry.

To tell you the
truth, sir, I'm not.

This case wasn't about
him. It was about her.

And we found her and we gave her
back to the people who loved her, so...

Look, what you've
done is outstanding.

It's a fantastic achievement.

Congratulations, all of you.

Mr Strickland, um...

I seem to remember a little
wager we had. £20, I think.

- Yeah, yeah, you'll get it.
- Thank you.

Was that some kind of a bet?

No.

Well, yes, but it was...

Look, it didn't have
anything to do with...

- Horses.
- No.

- Or dogs.
- No.

Tossers!

♪ 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

♪ Hi 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 ♪