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The files for Mr Wingfield

A pattern is emerging.

And you are slap bang
in the middle of it.

You are not seeing my sister.

It's a bit late for that, mate.

We caught the guy,
the case is closed.

No, we didn't catch him.
He chose to die, he taunted me.

I think you've
got the wrong end of the stick.

I'm not interested in you
in that way, I'm sorry.

Are you saying
there's a demon in this station?

What do you think the blockage is?

I'll know when we find it.

It's probably fat, right.

Cooking fat poured down the drains.

I've heard it can build up

like a wall of lard,
five feet high.

You're not going to talk all day,
are you?

Sorry.

First day nerves, I guess.

Wrong place to be nervous, kid.

What's that for?

(SCREAMING AND SHOUTING)

Move!
All right, no need to shout!

Down here! Quick, quick!

Riley, hurry up!

Come on, come on!
Mansell!

I've got a signal, sir -
They're going to get... Hurry up!

If they get their hands on you,
they'll kill you!

(GROANING)

(COUGHING)

So what happened to the last guy?

Do you really wanna know?

Yeah, yeah, I really do.

Well, we was on a job,

a lot like this one.

Brooksy, he was up ahead of me.

Said that he saw something.

Something moving, something big.

Now, he couldn't see what it was.
But he could hear it breathing.

And he said it didn't sound human.

Now Brooksy,
he pulled out his knife...

..and he went down there
to where it was.

And when he got to the corner...

Boom!

It just grabbed him!

Flopped him round the corner
like a rag doll.

Yeah? And?
Well he was screaming and screaming!

'Gerard,' he said.
'Come and kill it!'

'Gerard, come and save me!
Kill it, Gerard!'

So I took out my machete
and I ran down to where he was.

When I got there,
I turned and I saw.

He was a goner for sure.

So I turned and I tried to run.

But Brooksy grabbed me -
Jesus.

And he started pulling me,
and pulling my leg.

And pulling my leg!

(LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY)

Bastard! Bastard!

Don't go too far, Danny boy.

You don't know what's out there.

(LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY)

Boss.

We can't stay here,
it's a dead end.

I want to go home.
No! We can fight our way out.

Might have to sacrifice
a few of you for the greater good.

I will kill if I have to.

No! No killing.
We have to think our way out.

We're surrounded.
We should just surrender.

There is no surrender.

Only death.

(GROWLING)

Danny!
You're going the wrong way, boy.

Danny, come back!

Danny boy! Come back here, kid.

Right, you know
what you've gotta do.

Mansell and Kent, go on ahead.
Recce an escape route.

Meg, you stay with Buchan.
Don't let him hurt himself.

And we'll try and fend them off
as best we can.

I don't want to go with Mansell.
I'd rather go with Emerson.

We should just make a run for it.
At least some of us will survive.

No, we work together no matter what!

That's what we've been doing
and look where we've ended up!

Because Mansell can't read a map.

Your contribution has been
running and screaming like a girl.

What's wrong with my running?

Do I have to knock
your heads together?

Where's Mansell going?
I've had enough of this! No!

No!

(GROWLING AND SHOUTING)

Help! Help! Oh, God, help!

Oh, God, help!
Please, I mean it, please!

Yeah, nice one, Danny.

You don't scare me, kid.

Get back in the room!
Close the door.

Run, sir. Save yourself!

(SCREAMS)

Kent!

(GROANING AND GROWLING)

(SCREAMS)

(CRIES OUT)
Ouch!

What are you doing?

Excuse me.

Sorry.

Sorry, I was in the moment.

Gerard, help! Oh God, help!

There, look. He's been eaten.

My saints!

(RETCHES)

'We hope you have enjoyed
your time at Zombie Apocalypse

and will recommend
our role playing training facility

to your colleagues.'
Traffic won.

Can you believe that?

They all got to the safe zone.

Civilian staff, they did all right.

Even the bloody PCSOs
got to the end.

Where did we come?

Where do you think?
We're all bloody dead!

BOTH: Wa-hey!

They got a trophy.

I didn't know
there was a proper trophy.

We need to take
a good long look at ourselves.

If we're a team,
we need to start behaving like one.

(PHONE RINGING)

DI Chandler.

You'd never know it,

but we're right under
St Michael's Church.

Not that this is holy water.

I just had to walk half a mile.

I couldn't fit down the manhole.

Now I really need the loo.

Well, you're lucky,
you're standing in one.

Right.
Excuse me.

Oh, God!

Er...do you erm...

Do you have anything
we could stand on?

You know, like a step or...
No? OK.

By the look of his clothes,
he was a runner.

So what do you think?

Was he killed here
or was he just dumped here?

Right. Well, you see this?

That's not bruising.
Right, that's lividity.

After you die,

gravity pulls the blood
into the lowest parts of the body.

Which is handy for showing us
what position you're in.

So he hasn't been...
he hasn't been moved

No. I'd say he was killed here.

Well, what's a runner
doing down here?

That's well lost.

Right, defensive wounds.
Yeah, he put up a big fight.

And multiple blunt force trauma
to the head.

He would've been killed instantly.

So the wound, the stomach thing.
That was the... It's the rats.

No, no. Not unless
they were carrying scalpels.

It looks a bit of a mess because
the rats did get to him later.

But his primary incision
was precise,

and the internal organs
were removed carefully.

Which ones?

Liver, pancreas, small intestine.

Yeah, the killer
knew what they wanted.

(RETCHES)

You all right, boss?

Ta.

Ain't you gonna clean up?

I'm going to.

(SIGHS)

Right, have you been drinking?

No.

Well what's the matter
with you then?

I've been dumped.

All right, come on.

Right, everyone,

the victim was wearing
a runner's ID band on his wrist.

So we know his name
was Thomas Griffin.

We're trying to contact the family
at the moment.

Sir, why would the killer
scoop out the victim's insides?

When we travel,
we collect souvenirs.

A postcard, a stick of rock.

A little donkey from Torremolinos.

Why? To remember.

To keep our memories
fresh and vivid.

An this serial killer
is no different.

He too likes to take a memento,

something to help him relive
his crime over and over again.

Hong Kong!
Fantastic tourist destination

for the holiday of a lifetime.

He's jumping to conclusions,
isn't he?

Remember what he was like
at that team building thing.

I think he's still traumatised
from being kidnapped by Diggory.

Let's just,
let's just not stress him out.

Yeah.

When the police raided his flat,

they found the victim's organs
stored in jars.

Who said anything
about a serial killer?

We've only got one body.
You need a hat trick for a win.

(EVERYBODY LAUGHS)

Killers like this are collectors.
And no collection is ever complete.

There's always another space
on the shelf.

You don't know
what the killer's like.

You're making it up.
Ed's just trying to help.

I came face to face with evil.
I know it when I see it.

No, you know it when it has you
tied up. (EVERYBODY LAUGHS)

Stop picking on him.
What's the matter with you lot?

I have other cases in there
to support the theory.

You can either use it,
or discard it, as you see fit.

Thanks for your thoughts, Ed.

Do you think it's wise
to come down here?

Tongues will wag.

Oh, let them talk.

I'm worried about you.

Why? I'm absolutely fine.

Tickety-boo.

Ed, I know what it's like
to have a near miss.

And I know how it feels afterwards.

Are you constantly on high alert?

Yep, I've always got
my karate chop at the ready.

The fear won't leave me, Meg.

I know.

Look at us. Pair of ninnies.

Scared of our own shadows.

Come here.

I don't want to die.

Neither do I.

Yeah, all right.
Thanks very much for you help.

I've just been talking
to Thomas Griffin's running club.

It seems he was
something of a local hero.

He ran marathons, triathlons,
ultras, iron mans,

all to raise money
for cancer research.

And recently, he helped fund
the respite centre on Martha Street.

He was well loved. No enemies.

On Sunday morning, Thomas Griffin
set out on his usual run.

This is the route he always took.
He was found here.

He went underground
somewhere in between.

We need to find out where.

These are possible
points of entry to the sewers.

I've got some more tunnels here.

What's that?

These are disused tunnels
from the old Underground.

Lots of access tunnels
for utilities,

and bunkers and tunnels
from the war.

There's a whole secret city
under us.

What was Thomas Griffin
doing down there?

Perhaps he was abducted
by a troll (!)

Let's just concentrate
on this area here.

We're gonna need to go
back down there. In the sewers?

Oh, I don't think I can.
It's my hand.

I can't risk it getting any worse.

I thought it was
a scratch from a rosebush.

Well, yeah, it was.
Eugh. Have you been to a doctor?

Yeah, I went to
that walk-in place last week

and they said it -
(PLATES SMASHING)

They said it would
clear up on its own.

Well, they were wrong.
I just need to keep it clean.

I just need to stay here.
All right, concentrate on the CCTV.

See if you can find
Thomas Griffin on his run.

Yes, sir. Thank you.

Oi! Wake up and pay attention.

I don't want you wandering off
like you did last time.

One wrong turn in the zombie house.

Yeah, and you got us all killed.

Look, can we just search the area

and get out of here
as quickly as possible, please?

Come on!
Shut up.

(MOANS)

(METALLIC CLANGING)

What's that? Maintenance?

Nah, nothing's scheduled.

It's coming from down there.

(CLANGING CONTINUES)

Hey! Hey, you!

Police!

Miles, hurry up
or we're gonna lose him!

Eugh. What is it?
What is it? What is it?!

I think it's the missing parts
of Thomas Griffin, boss.

What? Well, get it off me!
It's wrapped round your neck.

Turn round, turn round. Keep still.

Boss, it's all right. You're OK.
Look at me. Look at me!

Look at me!

You're clean. You're all right.

OK?

Yeah, OK. Thank you.

Thank you.

BOTH: Eugh.

Why? Why do this?

A message? A display of power?

It's a camera.

Pointing at this.

Boss, I think this is bait.

Camera like that, cost a bit.

They use these cameras
to shoot wildlife.

They have a trip sensor.

They must be mad to leave that

where it could be nicked
or confiscated.

Disembowelled bodies, entrails
hanging from the ceiling. Fine.

But somebody leaves a camera
and it bothers you?

My boys have had so many
bikes nicked and phones lifted.

I see a decent piece of kit
that isn't chained down

and it does bother me, yeah.
Excuse me, do you have a UV light?

Yes.

One proud owner.

Sir?

So I've got 15 Mark Hoopers
in Greater London.

Right, well, the killer
must have planned this

and he seems pretty organised.

So I'd disregard anyone
under the age of 18.

OK.
And he's physically strong.

He was able to subdue
a very fit and athletic victim.

So I'll take out anyone over 60.

65.

What does that leave us?

Er...11.

And what do they do?

Solicitor. Dentist. Student.
Unemployed. Unemployed. Builder.

I can't even pronounce that one.

So a crypto-zoologist is someone
who believes in and looks for

extinct, mythical,
legendary creatures

like the Beast of Bodmin, or Nessie.

This Mark Hooper could have put
a camera in the sewers

to try and get
a picture of something.

And baited a trap
with Thomas Griffin's intestines.

We don't know that,
we're waiting for results.

Although I don't know anyone else

who's missing their insides
right now.

(LOUD CLANG)

The landlord thinks
Hooper's out for the day.

Looks like climbing gear.

Or caving.

Sewers.

Get SOCOs here now.

Whoever you are,
just be careful with that.

It's very precious.

Are you Mark Hooper?
Yeah.

That's me, this is my flat.

And that's my brain.

You found me, then?

I only got lost once.
You're a bit off the beaten track.

What is it?

Beef, I think.

It's a nice gravy.

You'll like it.

Will you say grace?

Of course.

How long have you been
a crypto-zoologist?

Ever since I found
a Yeti nest in Tibet.

Recently vacated
but still pungent and warm.

What were you doing
down in the sewers, Mark?

Back in Victorian times,

a sow went into the River Fleet
at Hampstead

and had a litter of piglets.

They were safe down in the sewers,
and there was plenty of food,

so the pigs stayed and grew fat.

They kept breeding

and as the years went by
they began to mutate

and adapt to life underground.

They were known as the Black Swine.

And the toshers
who worked in the sewers

would run away
if they heard them grunting

because they knew these pigs
had a taste for human flesh.

And you were hoping to get
a photograph of one of these pigs?

Well, they're quite rare now.

But I'd heard they still exist
under Whitechapel.

What bait did you use?

Pig intestines.

Not human?

That's what
your feral pigs really wanted.

They're cannibals. Not fussy.

Did you kill Thomas Griffin
to use him as bait?

No, no.

Because he was disembowelled
in the same sewers.

This proves I'm right.

They are down there.

He was killed by the Black Swine.

SOCO sent over the memory card
from Hooper's camera in the sewer.

You hoping to see a mutant pig?

I'm hoping to find out
if Hooper is lying.

SINISTER VOICE: Anne.

Anne.

Down here.

(SCREAMS)

There's Hooper.

Another day, another location.

That's Thomas Griffin.
What's that there, look?

It looks like he's been chased.

It's not the Black Swine.

It's a group of people.

(ELECTRICAL STATIC)

(SCREAMS)

One of the search teams

looking for Griffin's
entry point into the sewers

found the body this morning.
They sealed off the entire section

but there was no sign
of the killers.

She was killed
with blunt force trauma to the head.

Just like Thomas Griffin.
Do we know who she is yet?

No.
OK.

Well, I can tell you
she's a well nourished female

of about 50 years of age.

Uterus, ovaries, liver, pancreas,

kidneys, spleen, gall bladder,

stomach, intestines. All gone.

And the rest of her discarded,
like a used chip wrapper.

There are multiple lacerations
to her knees.

And she has abrasions
on her fingers.

Defensive wounds?

No. It looks more
like she was dragged.

Not one killer, a group.

Lying in wait and dragging
people down to the sewers

to cut out their organs.

Sounds like zombies.

Ed, have you got any thoughts?

The Manson Family.

Charles Manson was a psychopath

who became a guru in California
during the Summer of Love.

He convinced his followers

there was going to be a race war
called Helter Skelter

predicted by
The Beatles' White Album.

Yeah, ruined that album for me (!)

He sent his disciples,
his 'family',

to the home of Sharon Tate,
the actress.

They murdered her and her friends.

Yeah, but they didn't
steal the bodies, though, did they?

No, but they were a group
of murderers working for a leader.

A highly unusual dynamic.

The Manson Family worked as a group

because they were
attacking groups of people.

Our killers are taking
one victim at a time.

And the Mansons left messages
at the scene of crimes.

We've had nothing like that.

If a man does not know
what port he's steering for,

no wind is favourable to him.

(FOOTSTEPS)

Leave me alone!

(TOILET FLUSHES)

(PHONE RINGING)

Erica?

'I'm alone. I'll always be alone.
I'm nothing.

That's why I should jump
and end it... Bastard.

You can't trust him.
Better off now -'

Have you called Erica yet?

I'm trying to ID the second victim.
I haven't had time.

Make time.

Sir.

The tests show
that the intestines in the trap

didn't belong to Thomas Griffin.

Right.
They belong to some poor pig.

I guess Mark Hooper
was telling the truth.

Well, the images on his camera
back him up, too.

He set traps to catch
mythical animals, not people.

There's nothing to link him
to the murder of Thomas Griffin.

I don't have a precedent yet.
I'm working on it.

I want to talk
about Wingfield's demon.

Ah, you mean his 'provocateur'.

Can you explain the dots yet?

Most of them refer to
historical Whitechapel crimes.

The Ripper, the Krays,
and some of them concern your cases.

And the rest?

I don't know.

Well, they must mean something.

Not if Wingfield was
suffering from a complex delusion.

Like David Berkowitz,
the son of Sam.

Now, he believed his neighbour's dog
was possessed by a demon.

And that the demon talked to him
and told him to kill girls.

No, no, no.

Wingfield was onto something.

He found the bakery before we did.

And Diggory's bookshop's here, too.

Now, how is that possible?

If Wingfield were alive,
I'd ask him.

But he's not,
so I can't give you an answer.

We'll probably never know.

Miles, what are you doing?

Ah, Mark Hooper's camera.
Are you gonna give it back to him?

Nope.
But he's been released.

I'm not done with this yet.
We have all the images.

He'll get it back.

Any luck with the CCTV?

Yeah, looks like
the victim could be Anne Ayres.

She was delivering meals
in the area last night.

So we're bringing in her daughter
to identify the body.

Brilliant.

Look, her daughter's
going to be upset, obviously.

So it would be a good idea
if you came along.

Why do I always get
the hand-holding jobs?

Ridiculous.

I'm sorry, Virginia,
I know how difficult this must be.

My mother was a good person.

How could this happen to her?

What kind of God
allows such a thing?

I don't know.

(DOOR CREAKING)

She always though of others.

She did nothing but help people.

And still she was forsaken.

Where were her angels
when she needed them?

We'll do everything we can
to find your mother's killers.

They will be brought to justice.

Promise me.

Please.

I promise.

Thank you.

Looks like there's
another hand holder in town.

Come on,
let's get that boil looked at.

As we're here.

No, a bit of Savlon and I'm sorted.
Meg, no more excuses.

(SIGHS)

This is going to sting a bit.

(GASPS IN PAIN)

I always forget the living flinch.

Takes me by surprise every time.

Right, I want you to see your GP
about a course of antibiotics.

Yeah, I will,
as soon as I get the chance.

No, no, you'll do it now.

You're at risk of developing
a secondary infection

like septic arthritis,
osteomyelitis, or endocarditis.

Any of those deadly?

Left untreated, yeah, absolutely.

Oh God, I'm such an idiot.

You weren't to know.

I let it get worse on purpose.

Well, why, Meg?

I don't know.

I just wanted
to stay behind my desk.

Safer there, right?

Away from the random
acts of violence.

Like bodies falling out of the sky.

If you saw what I see every day,

you'd realise nowhere is safe.

I'm amazed any of us
get through the day alive.

Is that supposed
to make me feel better?

It's the truth. Life's a risk.

You can't hide from it.

Right...Anne Ayres.

She was awarded an MBE in 2009
for services to the community.

She pioneered
the Pets in Hospital scheme

where she would
take rescue animals in

to visit and comfort people
with life limiting illnesses.

When she wasn't doing that

she was delivering hot food
to the elderly.

And Thomas Griffin ran for charity
and helped open a hospice.

These people are local heroes.
They're rare.

We can't afford to lose them.

Local heroes.

Miles?

Look.

Same paper. Same writer.

Peter Dunn.
Let's pay him a visit.

(WATER DRIPPING)

Let's go.

I want to see everything else

that Peter Dunn has written
for the Whitechapel Times.

The names of everyone he's
interviewed on my desk, tonight.

Yes, sir.

What the hell is this?

Oh, he's been getting
a lot of phone calls

from someone
he didn't want to talk to.

I think he probably
got some girl pregnant.

You know what he's like.
Where is he?

He's feeling sorry for himself.
Tell him to get back to his desk.

When did you last see him?

He took some files upstairs.
He didn't come back.

Go back inside.

You don't want to see this.

Finley -
There's nothing you can say.

Then I'll just listen.

OK?

Just please tell me
why you're up here.

She doesn't love me.

I didn't lie and I didn't cheat.

I did everything right.

But it wasn't enough.
So what's the point?

(DOOR OPENING)

I don't think Erica
left because of you.

Why?

Gut feeling. Copper's instinct.

I can get her back.

You can't.
Yeah, I can.

I swear I can.

Finley...

Finley?

Please.

I swear on my life.

Come on.

Please.

Come here, you big tit.

You're OK. Shh, shh.

You know I wouldn't
have done anything.

No, no, no. Shh, it's OK.

Let me take you in, OK?

Don't forget your stuff.

Good night, Biddy, my love.
You sleep well.

(Come here. Come on.)

In you go.

(CHICKENS SQUAWKING)

Calm down, girls. There's no Mr Fox.

(MEOW)

(METALLIC CLANGING)

What've you done?

You know he cheats.
He's not capable of a relationship.

Is that what you told her?
She's my twin.

If she gets hurt,
I feel it just as deeply.

I was protecting her.

Fix it!
Get them back together

or I'll throw you
off that roof myself.

And if you're still alive,
I'll throw you off again.

Peter Dunn. Whitechapel Gazette?

Yeah.
DI Joseph Chandler. May we come in?

Er...please do.

So erm...how can I help you
gentlemen?

We wanted to ask you about
these articles you wrote recently.

This is filler, not news.

I'm not proud. It pays the bills.

Both those people are dead.

Murdered?

The same killer?
We have reason to believe so, yes.

Now that's a story.

After these articles were published,
was there any feedback from readers?

Any letters to the editor?

Not that I recall.
Are we keeping you?

Oh, no, no.

I have something in the oven
I don't want to overcook.

Were there any crackpot calls

asking about
Thomas Griffin or Anne Ayres?

You know how hard it was
to write 300 words

about do-gooders this boring?

These people weren't celebrities.

No-one called, no letters.

Christ, I doubt if anyone
outside of their own families

read the damn pieces.

(CHICKENS SQUAWKING)

Hi, erm... Yeah, it's me.

I... I've just locked up.
I-I think someone's still here.

Yeah, well, I'm probably
just being stupid.

Come on, Ed. Home time.

Erm...just finishing a thought.
I won't be long.

What are you hiding?
Me? Nothing.

Then what's that, then?

Ah, really, it's not important.

Is it saucy?!

(GIGGLES)

Is it a bit of gentleman's relish?
Oh, hardly, it's just something -

Let me have a look, then.
Let me have a look!

No, it's medieval torture porn.

Sawney Bean, actually.
Sawney Bean?

I thought we were
looking for a group.

He had a whole clan.

They lived in coastal caves
in 16th century Scotland

and ambushed travellers on the road.
Highwaymen?

No.

Cannibals.

(GASPS AND SCREAMS)

This is great.
Let's take it upstairs.

No, no, no.
There's-there's a problem.

Sawney Bean was a myth.
A fairy story.

I'll be torn to pieces
by the wolves of the incident room.

But all these documents -

The documents are inconsistent
and contradictory

and there are no primary sources.

Sawney Bean may well
have been nothing more

than 18th century propoganda
to demonise the Scottish.

Ed, Ed...Ed!

I'm not scared of the big bad wolf.

I'll tell them
we might be dealing with cannibals.

(SIGHS)

(SCREAMS)

I don't keep records as such.

All of my interviews
are archived at the office.

Boring as hell.

Ha, you're welcome to the lot.
Thank you, I'd like to see those.

(SMOKE ALARM BEEPS)

Oh, hell's bells!

Let me show you out. This way.
Something's burning.

All under control.

It doesn't look like it to me.

Excuse me.
Look, there's really no need!

I can take care
of everything myself!

(COUGHS)

What in God's name are you cooking?

You wouldn't understand!

Eugh.

(EVERYONE COUGHS)

What the hell is that?

(SIGHS)

Dinner.

Why is it that so many
terrible murders happen here?

Why Whitechapel?

Mansell!

Caught in the act at 3:00am.
The act of what?

Oh, she was a big girl.
It's a vendetta.

He saw things that weren't there.
The end of days.

She comes over
like a sweet old lady

and she places an idea
in your head like poison.

MAN: Will an angel of the Lord
stay my hand?