All language subtitles for The-Thief-His-Wife-and-the-Canoe-01x04-Episode-4.WEBRip-ION10

- Is that you, Mark?
- 'Yeah, Mum, it's me.

'You're not gonna believe this.
I'm sitting next to Dad!'

He's alive!

Mark, you have your father back.
I'm so happy for you.

Would you mind? It's just
a thing we do with our clients.

John Darwin? I'm arresting you
on suspicion of fraud.

This is ridiculous.

'Since our dad was arrested,

'we are very much in an angry
and confused state of mind.'

The front cover of today's
Daily Mirror simply reads:

"John never had amnesia."

Firstly,
I think you're a good person who,

for reasons that are
probably very complicated,

did a truly dreadful thing.

Second, tell the police the truth

and start rebuilding your
relationship with your boys.

Anne Darwin? I'm arresting
you on suspicion of fraud.

We've not spoken to
either of our parents...

...And at this present time,

we want no further
contact with them.

'We've not spoken to
either of our parents,

and at this present time,

'we want no further
contact with them.'

- Anne.
- Hello.

Hello, I'm Nicola.

- Hello, nice to meet you.
- Nice to meet you too.

How long will I get?

Do you think, in prison?
How long might I get?

So, it's very simple.

We stick her in one room,
stick him in another,

and we play them off.

Bottom line, Anne,
the more honest you are with us,

the more information
you can give us about

what actually happened here,

the quicker we'll have
all this sorted. OK?

- Yes.
- Good.

And so we are interviewing her

at the same time
as speaking to you,

which means any answers you give
us, we'll be checking with her

to see if they tally
up and vice versa,

does that make sense?

- Yes.
- Good...

Although do bear in mind
that Anne does not have

a very sophisticated grasp
of financial matters.

- Right.
- Just the one brain cell, you see.

Your wife of 34 years.

Tell me about it.

Would you like me to
repeat the question, Anne?

No, I heard the question.

When I started the insurance claim,

I still believed him to be dead.

You took quite a long
time to answer that.

But she did.

I'm just wondering
why you hesitated?

She's answered the question.
Can you move on, please?

Just remember, Anne,
this is your interview.

This is your chance to tell
us your side of things.

He turned up half way through.

'It's not true.'

I turned up after
they'd been paid out.

I thought you said you couldn't
remember when you turned up.

The specific month, I said.

But you can specifically remember

that it was after the
claim was settled?

Yes.

Which month was the claim settled,
then?

Nice try. I don't remember.

This isn't the "Yes,
no" game, John.

Your wife has already told us
that you never had amnesia.

She's mistaken.
Perhaps she's forgotten.

Yes, he told me he'd
faked the whole thing.

- His disappearance?
- Yes.

- For financial reasons?
- Yeah.

Did he tell you where he'd been?

No. "Around and about," He said.

- For over a year?
- Y-Yes.

Ok.

But why didn't you go straight
to the police at that point?

He said if we went to the police...

...We'd have to pay the insurance
money back immediately,

and then we'd be back
where we'd started.

- Facing bankruptcy?
- Yes.

So what was his plan at this point?

For me to sell all the other
houses, and then hand himself in

when we were in a position
to pay the money back.

- OK. And how's that plan going?
- Well, I'm here, aren't I?

- I'm not with you.
- Why else do you think I returned?

- I don't know, why did you?
- To pay the money back.

Oh, so you've made contact with
the insurance companies, then?

Well, I would have,
if you hadn't arrested me.

So it's our fault.
We spoilt your plan?

You and the press.

- Ah, well, apologies.
- Accepted.

Can I just ask, though, John,

if your plan was to
sell all the properties,

with the intention of
paying the money back

when you got straight...

...Why did you move to Panama?

No comment.

And buy a flat there?

No comment.

And a plot of land?

No comment.

Well, Anne,
why did you just go along with it?

Why didn't you tell him it
was wrong and dishonest?

I should have and...

...I should have told
the boys at that point,

but he said if I
went to the police,

he'd tell them I was
in it from the start.

You were an adult.
You could've refused.

And I bitterly regret my decision,
but...

...He was hard to resist -
John was very forceful.

Anne.

Why...

Why don't you just
tell us the truth?

You were in on it from the start,
weren't you?

She's answered the question.
Can you move on, please?

So the, er, life insurance
policies that you took out

just three months
before you went missing,

is that date relevant, John?

You tell me.

No, you tell me.
That's how this works.

- Is that date relevant?
- No.

No? So it's pure coincidence

that you took out a life
insurance policy in December 2001,

which then allowed your wife
to make a very large claim

- just 12 weeks later?
- Yes.

Is it also a coincidence that
on a computer hard drive,

taken from your house soon
after your disappearance,

we've since found a downloaded file

titled "Missing Persons
and Police Investigations"?

One of the boys must
have downloaded that.

It was dated a month before
you went missing, John.

Fair play.

That's a tricky one.

OK,
I'm now showing Anne Exhibit AB01,

which is a copy of a library card,

registered at Hartlepool library,

in the name of "John Jones".

Anne,
can you tell me who you see...

on that photo?

It's John.

Except this fella has a beard.

- I presume you can grow a beard?
- Yes.

OK, so is that you,
but with a beard?

Maybe.

John, I'm asking if you
can identify yourself.

- No comment.
- OK, well...

perhaps you could read two
things out for me, then.

The date it was issued
and the address.

22nd of April 2002.

Address, Number Four,

The Cliff, Seaton Carew.

OK.

So just four weeks
after you went missing,

a man who looked
very much like you...

Ah, yeah, but with a beard, yeah,

applies for a library card
and gives your home address.

But this man's called John Jones!

Come on, Anne,

he was living at number four
from day one, wasn't he?

- No.
- And you knew from day one.

I didn't.

- Were your boys in on it, too?
- No, absolutely not.

Cos our economic crime unit is
finding all sorts of things.

- What things?
- Money transfers to Mark and Anthony,

fake property sales to Mark.

Basically money laundering,
very serious offence.

That was just an
inheritance tax thing.

Please, they never knew anything
about any of this, please.

It's interesting how
upset you're getting...

...And I tell you, I do not wanna
have to bring your lads in.

Please don't.

The best way to head that off is
for you tell us the whole truth.

You were in on it from the start,
weren't you?

No.

And you knew John was perfectly
fine when you dialled 999

and said he was missing.

In fact, I'm surprised the
attending officer didn't see

wet footprints going up the stairs.

Am I right?

No comment.

'Have a seat.'

So,
we need to have a talk about bail.

No. No bail.

You do understand what happens now,
don't you, Anne?

Anyone not released on
bail is kept in a prison,

on remand, until their trial.

Where would I even go?

I only have one friend,
and she won't speak to me now.

Obviously none of my
family would want me,

so where would I even go?

Mind the step.

Take a seat here, please.

- Heya.
- Hey.

It's all good,
no-one's followed me.

I know you think I'm
overreacting but last night...

...There were about 50 of
them outside the house.

Lou's had to go stay
with her parents.

I've had to check in here.

- So I just spoke to the police again.
- And?

They'll want to interview
us at some point.

As "Witnesses", apparently, now.

Well, we don't do anything
without a solicitor.

I'll call my lawyer, shall I?

Uncle Michael's sorting
us out with one.

How is he?

Same as all of us.

I just can't stop
thinking about the...

...Literally hundreds of times
we went up there, Mark...

...To keep her spirits up

whilst we were dying inside.

'D'you know how it makes me feel,
mate?'

Makes me really hate her.

I'm raging about them both,

but at least he only told one lie.

An evil, horrible one...

...But it was just one.

'Anne Darwin?'

'She lied to us every day
for five-and-a-half years.

'Every single day.'

You start thinking,

"Well, if she could lie
so easily about that,

"About our actual dad being dead...

"...What else could
she have lied about?"

Clothes in here.

Put your wedding ring in here.

And then I think, "Wow,
is it all just some...

"...Fucked-up lie?"

Our family...

...Our childhood...

...Our whole life with them?

Did either of them ever
even genuinely love us?

So that's me.

That's where I am, mate.

'And here I was.

'Where I'd feared
ending up all my life.

'Utterly alone.'

'It's from John.'

"Dear Dad, just to let you know,
please don't worry."

Carry on.

Sorry. That's it.

'I really don't think
you've given any thought

'as to what it's like for me.

'An ex-prison officer in prison.

'I've had my food spat in,
I've been punched, abused verbally.

Whatever you think
it's like for you,

'it's so much worse for me.'

'Except it wasn't.

'John had already
given up his boys once,

'without a second thought, really.

'For me, it felt like my
heart had been ripped out.

'My darling son,
I wanted to write you again

'to tell you how profoundly
sorry I am for what I have done.

'I will never be able
to explain my actions,

'because what I did
was as inexplicable

'as it was unforgiveable.

'But what I can say is
that I love you so much.

'I always have loved you,
and I always will love you,

'even if you never
want to see me again,

'which I fully expect
to be the case.'

'And indeed, despite the dozens
of letters I wrote to them

'over the next few months,
neither replied.

'How could I possibly blame them?

'And so, finally...

'...Finally, I realised there
was only one way forward

'if I ever wanted
to see them again.'

'I lied.'

I was in on it from the very start.

So you knew,
before he went out in the canoe,

that he intended to
fake his own death?

Yes, I did.

- And when you reported him missing?
- I knew he was fine.

In fact, I'd picked him
up from North Gare beach

about two hours before

and then driven him
to Durham station,

where he got the train to the lakes

and camped by a stream
for the next three weeks.

He then came back to Seaton

and lived between number three
and four for the next five years.

I never wanted to do any of it.

And I tried constantly
to persuade him not to.

But I did do it.

I was in on it...

...From the very beginning.

And I'm very, very sorry.

Ok.

Yes.

I faked it all.

Oh, my God. John.

- They said I could see you
for two minutes. - Who did?

J... please...

Cos we're all we have now, love.
Each other...

- John, someone could walk in...
- We just have to stick together.

That's enough, fella.

Right, out, now!

I also wanted to tell you...

...That I forgive you, Anne.

I do.

Call me, Anne!

'Even harder than
confessing to the police

'was telling my parents that the
daughter they had always adored

'had betrayed every single
principle they had ever believed in.

'I fully expected
them to disown me.'

'But I am guilty.'

Well, that's what I'm saying,

if we can prove that
you were coerced,

then no, you're not.

I didn't have to do anything.

I was an adult,
I made my own choices.

He never threatened me or hurt me.

Physically, no, but emotionally?

Every day of your life together,
as I understand it,

and I think I can argue that
that wears a person down,

day after day year after year,

till they no longer have
the strength to resist.

So what would I get?
For a guilty plea, I mean.

Maybe... three years?

Four, four-and-a-half if
you go not guilty and lose,

which I should stress
is entirely possible.

It's a tough defence to prove.

But if it succeeded?

Well, then you'd walk free.

'It was a horrible
decision to have to make.

'And for many weeks,

'I had absolutely no idea what
the right thing to do was.'

'Officers requested
in rec area three.

'Please report to
Officer Crenshaw.'

'And then a few days
before my first hearing,

'my parents came to see me.

'These good, good people,

'my flesh and blood who had
been so shamed and let down,

'told me whatever I'd done,
they still loved me.

'That they would always love me.'

I'm so scared my parents
will die before I get out.

And I think,
if I could just see my boys...

...Talk to them, maybe I could...

And he did make me do it,
he really did.

I...
I tried to stop him so many times.

OK, well, the pre-trial
hearing is in three weeks.

- How do you want to plead?
- I want to go not guilty.

'And then, finally,
the day arrived.

'I'm not sure what I
was more scared of -

'the trial itself or
seeing my boys in court,

'a torment John had avoided
by already pleading guilty.

'I was on my own.'

OK, Anne, it's time.

'Members of the jury,
the defendant stands before you,

'charged with 15
counts of deception

'and money laundering.

'Mrs Darwin's defence is
one of marital coercion,

'but, for this to succeed,
it must be shown

'that her husband was present each
time an offence was committed.

'It is the Crown's submission

'that not only was her husband
very often not present,

'but that over a period
of five-and-a-half years,

'and with multiple
opportunities to end the deceit,

'she in fact repeatedly offended...

'willingly,
individually and actively.'

'We will furthermore show

'that, far from being a
submissive and coerced wife,

'Mrs Darwin was in fact a
clever and ingenious liar

'who was able to
effortlessly deceive

'on an almost industrial scale.

'To the police,
to the Coroner's Court,

'to her work friends and colleagues

'and, perhaps most shamefully,
to her own children.'

All rise.

And lastly, members of the jury,

as sons, daughters,
mothers yourself,

I will ask you, when you
look at that infamous photo

in a Panamanian estate agent,

if you see a terrified woman,

coerced in to telling her
children their father was dead,

or if you see a
devious and wily woman,

smiling at the
prospect of a new life

in a tropical paradise,

paid for with the fruits
of her dreadful fraud.

It crushed my world.

Of course it did.

I loved him.
He was... He was a great dad.

Crushed my entire world.

'It might have appeared
like I took control,

but I didn't really.'

It was only ever within the confines
of what he ultimately wanted.

Are you a good liar, Mrs Darwin?

- I hope not.
- Well, did you convince your sons

for five-and-a-half years
their father was dead?

- Yes.
- And the police?

- Yes.
- And the coroner?

So, you are telling the court,
on oath,

that he forged your signature?

He made a footer template
of it on his computer.

So any letter, any instruction
to a bank or lawyer or whoever,

he could write it

- and it would appear to be from you?
- Yes.

So, you had no idea at all?

She told me it was to
do with inheritance tax.

And you believed her?

She was my mother.

- And was money important to him?
- Yes.

- And the appearance of it?
- Maybe.

And your mother?

I'd always thought the opposite.

"I cannot wait to join you,
my darling.

"Missing you so much.

"All my love.

"Kiss, kiss, kiss."

Who wrote that?

I did.

"Generally,
I only ever take her out to vote."

- He actually said that?
- Yes.

To a friend of his in front of you?

Yes. I think he
thought it was funny.

Angry, betrayed...

...stupid.

I felt all of that.

I still do. Every single day, I...
still have very negative...

Where was John when you
roped your unwitting children

into laundering money for you?

He was in Panama.

My point is that he
wasn't standing over you

as you spoke to the bank,

forcing you to commit
a criminal act, was he?

He didn't need to
actually be in the room.

He was on the end of an email,
or phone,

or just in my head.

You can fight your corner,
can't you?

I can now.

Under immense pressure,
in a public trial.

But not, apparently, at home
with your non-violent husband.

You don't know what to think.

I mean, it took me a long time

to even believe the photo was real,

that any parent could
have done such a thing.

It took me a long
time to accept that.

I'm not even sure I have.
Maybe I never will.

Can I ask,
why didn't you just leave him?

This man you claim was
an oppressive bully.

I wanted to keep
the family together.

You "wanted to keep
the family together"?

Oh, the irony, Mrs Darwin.

And let me ask you this.

If you hadn't have picked
John up from North Gare,

if you'd have said
to him on the phone,

"Oh, I can't go through with this,"

or,
"I'm not doing this to my boys,"

what were you frightened
was going to happen to you

for disobeying his request?

- Was he going to beat you up?
- No.

Were you scared that
when he got home,

he might manipulate you a bit?

I was frightened that
he might leave me.

'The jury took less than four
hours to reach a verdict.'

I accept that your husband,
John Darwin,

was the driving force
behind this deceit,

but you, Anne, although
perhaps initially unconvinced,

went on to contribute
to its success

and play your part
very efficiently.

In my judgment,
you operated as a team,

each adding something
to the joint venture.

And it is the duration
of the offending,

its multi-faceted nature,

and, in particular,
the grief inflicted over the years

to the real victims,
your own children,

that make this a case that merits
a particularly severe sentence.

Anne Catherine Darwin,

I sentence you to a term of
six years and six months.

Take her down.

'It was three months
longer than John got...

'but then I was their mother.

'I think most people felt
I'd got what I deserved.'

'And so it began.

'Six years and six months,
minus parole.

'I tried to keep busy.

'Keep myself distracted.

'I continued to write to the boys,

never really expecting a reply.

'And John continued
to write and call.'

Look, money's not going
to be an issue, love.

Trust me. Our story sells.

'And I wanted to cut him off,
I really did, but it was hard.

After 35 years,
and with nothing else in my life,

even about a bad future felt
better than none whatsoever.

Fear not.

We play our cards right,
we are going to be sitting pretty.

And then eight months
into my time inside,

the prison chaplain suggested
I speak to a counsellor

because I could not rid
myself of thoughts of death.

What would you like to
get from these sessions?

I suppose to wake up every day

not hating myself would be a start.

And how do you think you
could get to that place?

Through my family.

My children.

By somehow showing them
that this is not who I am,

that I did a terrible,
terrible thing, but...

I don't think that
I'm a terrible person.

I don't expect forgiveness.

I never expected to be forgiven.
I just ask for second chance.

To show them that...
I could be a good mother again.

Be the person I used to be,
or should have been.

Could may be even still.

And who was that?

She was kind, I think.

And loving.

With conscience.
She knew right from wrong.

And she didn't want much.

A happy family,
enough money to pay the bills.

A simple life.

So, how do you get back to her?

I don't know.

OK, mate. You take care.

How is he?

Angry.

Sad.

Laughing about it, and then...
crying.

Fucked up, basically.

And you?

It just feels like
they're both dead.

I'm not sure I can bear that.

I was never a confident person.

When I look back...
my first encounter with him,

John...
was when I was 14 on the bus.

And he knocked my school hat off.

It was just a silly joke, and...

...I'm sure he didn't mean to,
but... he made me feel stupid.

More stupid.

I was already very aware I
wasn't academic, like him.

But...

maybe that set the tone,
as it were.

Because he was the
only boy I ever...

And I went straight
from my parents' house

to living with him after
we got married, so...

...I never knew anything but him.

How he spoke to me...
how he regarded me.

And I think that's
been quite a thing...

...for the last 35 years.

Anne?

Hope it's good news.

Thank you.

Dear Mum, I hope you are well

and not finding
things too difficult.

We are all still trying to
adjust to what has happened,

which has not been easy.

But I would like to
come and see you,

so I'll send a request today.

Take care of yourself. Mark.

I'm just not there.

You don't have to apologise.

Maybe it's the baby, just...

...knowing I could never
do anything to hurt him.

But either way, I'm just not there.

Mum?

We didn't even know until the trial

that you'd been in
on it from the start.

That when you hugged me...

...that first night I came up...

...you knew!

I'm so sorry.

Everything we found out,

you made us find out in public.

Online, newspapers.

In a bloody court room, Mam!

And there is no excuse.

A reason'd help.

Why, after everything you'd done,
you still kept lying.

For the same reason I ever did,
Mark, just the shame.

The terrible,
terrible guilt and shame I felt.

So it was about you, is it?

H-How telling the truth
would make YOU feel?

I knew it would break your hearts,
love.

No, no, no, no. No!
No! You don't...

- Don't you dare cry!
- I'm sorry.

And I just kept thinking,
hoping, praying, all along that

there would be some
way I could fix it

before that had to happen,
but there just never was.

No, you were probably
too preoccupied...

drinking pina coladas on the beach!

What did you expect?

No more than what I got.

But I suppose...

I thought I might be left
feeling a tiny scrap of hope.

And again,
I know I don't deserve that, but...

it doesn't stop me yearning for it.

It's been so long.

Am I sorry?

Well, that I got caught, yes. Very!

But seriously, of course,
if what I did...

...upset you, then yes.

Of course I'm sorry.

Tell me about the American woman.

And all the others
you've been writing

your shabby little letters to.

I know what should
be the first step.

"Should"?

Well, because whether I could
actually do it not, I don't know.

And what are we talking about?

Leaving him.

OK.

And why might you not
be able to do that?

I find the idea petrifying.

Despite all the wrongs
you feel he's done you?

Yes.

And what specifically is
it that you're scared of?

Everything.

I've never lived any part
of my life on my own.

I wouldn't know how to even be,
who I even am. I mean...

...for my entire adult life,

I've just been an extension of him,
really.

Or not even that, just a nothing.

Invisible.

And so starting again,
from scratch...

...trying to create a new me
at the age of nearly 60...

...it makes me sick with fear,
Grace.

Slightly different tack.
Does John make you happy?

He has done at times in our life.

I'm not happy now, obviously,

and haven't been much in
the last ten years or so,

but before that, yes.

But on balance? Would you
say he's been good for you?

He gave me two beautiful sons.

'I knew what she wanted me to say,

'but ridiculous as it might seem...

'...I just didn't feel strong
enough to be on my own.'

He's beautiful, mate.
Must have Lou's genes.

Well, I bloody hope so.

Wouldn't want too many
of our side in there.

No, fair enough.

Flick was just saying you
saw her again last week.

Yeah.

And how was it?

It's still hard.

I'm not quite sure
what I'm hoping for.

I think...

I think I've just
come to the conclusion

that I'd prefer to have
her in my life than not.

Dad?

Harder.

I'm not sure he really gets it.

Or ever will.

So, I wrote to her yesterday.

Requested a visit.

Ok.

So... all I'll say...

...just don't expect any...
blinding moment of forgiveness.

Cos my guess is that
ain't gonna happen.

I think it's just gonna
be this very long, slow...

...accommodation.

Hello, Mam.

Hello, love.
Thank you so much coming.

I'm so pleased to see you.

Well, I couldn't not let you
meet this little fella, could I?

I don't know what to say.
How old is he?

He's four months now.

He's beautiful.

He takes after his mother.

Who asked me to say hello and
that she sends you her love.

That's incredibly kind of her.

Please send her my love
and huge congratulations.

Would you like to hold him?

I would, very much.

'It was an extraordinary
act of generosity...

'...that I didn't deserve.

'And it finally
gave me the strength

'to do what I had needed
to do for so long.'

Hello?

What the hell's going on?

You've stopped writing.
Haven't been taking my calls.

Why?

You don't make me happy, John.

I think you haven't for many years.

You don't hear me.

- 'You don't listen to me...'
- That is total rubbish, Anne.

- 'You don't know what you're...'
- You're not listening now.

Just stop talking, please. Just
stop always talking and listen.

But much more important
than any of that,

I don't think you love me, John.

I do.

I do love you, Anne, very much.

Or why would I have stayed
with you for all these years?

'Don't do this.'

Don't throw 36 years and
two smashing boys away.

'We can be happy again.'

I promise we can.

No.

I don't think you do love me.

Or maybe you just don't
know what proper love is.

Please.

And either way...
I don't love you any more.

You've hurt me too much.

- You do love me.
- 'No.'

No, I don't. And I want a divorce.

'About eight months
before my release,

'I was transferred
to an open prison

'to help prepare me for
my return to normal life.

'And then in March 2011,
a few days shy of nine years

'since John had paddled out to sea,

'I was released to a
halfway house in Leeds.

'I was finally free.

'I'm not sure I'll
ever truly understand

'why I made the choices I did.

'It was, as my counsellor said,
complicated.

'My children still struggle

'and will certainly never be able
to forget what I did to them,

'nor should they.

'We all know we're on a journey

'that will last the
rest of our lives...

'...but we are at
least on that journey.

'And for that gift,

'I remain more grateful to them

'than it will ever be
possible to express.

'They say the opposite of love
is not hate, but indifference,

'which is what I now
feel for my ex-husband.

'But I wish him well

'and sincerely hope
that he finds happiness.

'I will try to do the same.

'I will also keep
trying to find me.'