All language subtitles for Dalziel.and.Pascoe.S10E05E06.Wrong.Time.Wrong.Place.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor1

Hey.

Ooh, what's up?

-

Too scared to fly.

Too worried about seasickness
to take the ferry.

Even in a 1st class
rail carriage,

you act like you've been
in a field crate.

Peter, I'm a big man.

Modern travel doesn't
suit people like me.

I think that's us.

-Hi.
-Hi.

Detective Inspector Pascoe.

So formal?

Anna Breukink, Detective
Sergeant, Amsterdam police.

Sorry. I'm Peter.

This is my colleague,
Andy Dalziel.

-

The canals spin out
like a spider's web.

The main one swims right
across the city.

This one is the Herengracht,
named after the gentry.

Next one over there is
the Keizersgracht,

after the emperor Maximilian.

And after that one is
the Prinsengracht,

named after the princes
of Orange.

So, the canal-side
houses became more grand

as you moved up in
social ranking.

-Fascinating.
-Are we nearly there yet?

How about taking
in a bit of culture, Andy.

It's alright for you, Peter,

you can funny around
as much as you like.

I've got a bloody
lecture to give.

Andy's right.

Work first, holiday second.

Looks like a body, Andy.

That should cheer you up.

You laid that one
especially for us?

My name's Tracey
Baxter, this is my phone number.

My friends were supposed
to be getting married

at 10.30 this morning, but, um

they just didn't show up.

Can you give me their
descriptions?

Um, yeah, Sam Hudson,
he's white.

He's about

1.85 meters tall,

and Jasmina Razzaq is
Asian, and she's about 1.65.

They're both in their early 30s.

Okay, I'll get this
into the computer within

24 hours or faster,
and we call you.

And could you please also
call us if they turn up?

-Yeah, sure.
-Okay.

-Thanks very much.
-Thank you.

I'm Detective Superintendent
Wim de Kuiper,

and I am the man to blame

for dragging you away
from your work,

which all of you, of
course, regrets.

Trafficking

of narcotics,

immigrants, sex workers,
is the biggest growth area

in organized crime.

Life's very cheap in this world.

Anyone trying to escape or
inform is routinely murdered.

So, a detective should
not be armed

with a notepad and pen, but
with all new technology.

Oh dear.

Oh, dear, there's always
one naughty schoolboy

on these occasions.

Superintendent Andrew Del-zial
doesn't seem too worried

-about the future at all.
-Andy!

Oh, sorry.

I was deep in the 21st
century thought.

You have
no new messages.

-Hello, you guys, where--
-It's Marty.

Oh,

-Hi, Marty.
-Are you busy?

No, sorry, I was just expecting
a call from someone else.

Can you sing in
the Blue Parrot tonight?

Okay.

Good.

Yeah,

I suppose.

Good.

Just let me get my
head around it.

Does Frida know?

Yes, I've spoken to her.

Is she pissed off?

No, she isn't pissed off at all.

Yes, I'm sure.

Okay, bye-bye.

Why do you have to grovel
to her all the time?

Well, it's simple.

She's a bigger earner
than you, Frida.

It's all Euro-bullocks,
isn't it.

I mean, this lot couldn't
solve a quick crossword

let alone a major crime.

Rehearsing your speech, are you?

You're about to have a
visitor, Inspector Boersma.

He's a bit of a ball breaker.

Just what I thought this
conference would be,

coffee and bullshit.

Are these the Englishmen?

Superintendent Dalziel.

-Detective Inspector Pascoe.
-Hans Boersma.

All right.

Most Dutch tattoos have
words in English,

but I haven't seen
this symbol before.

Not one of our street gangs.

That's the logo for an
English football team

known as the Owls.

Sheffield Wednesday.

If that's the bloke
from the canal,

that would explain why
he chucked himself in.

How does he know that?

We passed the police
boat on our way here.

Thanks.

Look, Inspector Boersma,

if he's English, maybe we
can be of further help.

We may be abroad, but
we're still policemen.

Thanks, but I'm going through
the British Consulate.

Was it just a drowning,
Inspector?

Good day.

-Charmer.
-I know,

but he's our best homicide
detective.

That answers my question then.

What are we having?

Is this seat taken?

No, go ahead.

I'm leaving in a moment.

Been traveling?

Here and there.

It's good to be back, though.

I can imagine.

Back home safe.

No worries, no troubles.

That's the right way.

For sure.

I think I'll give you more room.

I'll squeeze out

the seams.

I expect you'll be on
your travels again soon?

Let's hope so.

Ladies and gentlemen,

from Mid Yorkshire
Constabulary, England

Detective Inspector
Superintendent Andrew Del-zial.

I'm a murder detective,

and proud to be one.

Now, we've heard all about
so-called 'new' crimes

from Mr. de Cooper.

All that stuff about
trafficking.

But murder remains at
the hearts of our work.

Do you wanna know why?

Because

we all have it in us to murder.

So,

let's have a quick look
at my casebook.

So much for high technology.

Right, let's do this
the simple way.

Murder ruins lives.

Those of the victims
and their loved ones,

and a whole circle of friends.

Of course,

forensic scientists tell us
that we can solve every murder.

Except that I know from
bitter experience

that it doesn't always work.

So, I wanna hang on to the
old-fashioned trinity of motive,

opportunity,

and method.

I want to do the footwork.

I wanna build a picture
of the crime in my head

without

psychological profilers or

chief constables in
search of a quick result.

I want to stay

-a proper detective.
-

* Love me

Ugh.

Gnat's piss.

Not agreeing with you,
Amsterdam, is it?

It's well of itself, isn't it?

Fancy canals,

cute houses,

hippie culture.

I bet you can't even name
your 10 famous Dutchmen.

Van Gogh,

Van Nistelrooy,

Van Morrison, then what?

* The wrong time

* And the wrong place

Finally found something to like?

She's good.

-Listen.
-* It's the wrong face

-* It's not his face
-Andy seems happy at last.

He's only grumpy
when he's awake.

-Can I get you a drink?
-Sorry, Peter,

I have to go back soon to
relieve my daughter's
babysitter.

How old is she?

Her body is 13, but her
head is 16, you know?

Yeah, my daughter
is much the same.

Girls wanna grow up so quickly.

Is your wife a cop, too?

Well, if she had been, she
might not be my ex-wife now.

Well, perhaps we have it
all a little easier here.

Lots of leave to be with kids.

But you're divorced too?

Never married, to be precise.

See you tomorrow.

So, formal.

Three.

Bye.

* But it's alright

* With me

* You can't know how happy

* I am that we met

Excuse me.

What does the singer drink?

Champagne.

Could I send one over, please?

-Sure.
-Oh,

and I'll have a malt whiskey.

Okay.

You can keep your life if you
tell me who you delivered to.

His name is Hendriks.

All I got is his mobile number.

* You

* Do

* Something to me

It's good to see you've
woken up, Mr. Del-zial.

Perhaps I should have
sung my speech.

I don't think that would
have been a good idea,

Mr. de Cooper.

Or may I call you Tommy?

We're going off for the
official dinner quite soon.

Will you be joining us?

Maybe later.

I'd like to hear a bit
more of the singer first.

All right, enjoy.

She's English, you know.

Did you hear that?

He still calls me Del-zial.

Makes me sound like
a washing up powder.

I bet his middle name's Rude.

He doesn't mean any harm.

Look, I'm gonna blank
this dinner.

Will you be okay?

Right.

That little singer is English.

Small world, isn't it?

It is in your head, Andy.

See you tomorrow.

We're on our way to
the dinner now.

Fortunately, that grumpy
English one,

Dalziel is staying on
at the Blue Parrot.

All right, catch you later.

Hi.

Just wanted to say
thank you for the drink.

-I'm Tracey.
-Oh, Andy.

You could have another
if you like.

-Do you want one?
-Yeah.

Two more of the same, please.

That was really great.

Honest.

You should have a recording
contract, you know.

I'm working on it.

-They're on the house.
-Oh, very sporty.

-Here you go.
-Thanks.

So, do you want me to
show you around Amsterdam?

Well, I'm not all that
bothered, to be honest.

We've got half a dozen
decent canals in Wetherton.

So, what's a Yorkshire lass
doing singing in Amsterdam?

Oh, just following the money.

Is my accent still that strong?

Clings like
February drizzle.

It's gonna sound like

I was only interested
in talking to you

'cause you're a policeman.

Pretend I'm not.

A friend of mine,

we go back to school days,

she was supposed to be
getting married here today.

I was her bridesmaid,

but,

well, uh,

her and her fiance just
didn't turn up.

Have you reported it
to the local police?

Yeah, at lunchtime,

but they didn't seem that
bothered, to be honest.

Can I tell you

that we get dozens of missing
persons reports every week

back in Wetherton.

And 99% of them turn
out to be harmless.

But it was their wedding day.

Exactly.

It's a time of their life

when sudden second
thoughts come up.

It's a very stressful occasion.

Yeah, but why wouldn't
they call me?

Embarrassment.

The last thing they feel
like is talking about it.

I really wouldn't
worry too much.

We have a clue that suggests

that the victim may be English.

So, if anybody knows
of an Englishman

probably in his mid-30s, that
hasn't turned up for work,

hasn't come back to the hotel,

will they please contact
the police immediately?

Thank you.

I feel a bit giddy.

Too much champagne.

Well, look I'll walk
you to your door,

and I could listen
to your demo disc

another night, all right.

Oh, now, you've come this far.

Just one more drink.

Come on.

These are my missing friends.

Seem happy.

No problems with the
mixed marriage?

Well, Jaz's family weren't
too chuffed.

That's why she and Sam
decided to get married here.

Can they find you if they want?

Yeah, sure.

I don't know, maybe they'll
just appear out of the blue.

Right.

Bathroom for me,

then I'm off.

My head starting to tell
me I've had too much.

It's just through there
on the right.

Yeah.

-Andy?
-Yeah?

Can I tell you something
when you get back?

Sure.

* Wounded heart

* Won't let me be

* Dreams repeat a sweet
but lonely song to me *

* Dreams at dusk, it's you

What is it, Andy?

It's only half five.

Thanks.

Peter?

-In here.
-

Andy, what's happened to you?

I don't know.

Stop there, Peter.

This is a crime scene.

I can't think of a
way around this.

Call the police.

If I knew the bloody number.

I'll get Anna.

Oh my god.

There's a knife on the floor

on that side of the bed.

I think it's the murder weapon.

The victim's name
is Tracey Baxter.

She's a Yorkshire woman.

Singer.

I was with her last night.

I woke up to find her
dead next to me.

Why did you call Pascoe
and not the police direct?

I didn't know the number.

You mean you wanted some time

to work up an alibi with Pascoe?

Pascoe was only in the
building for two minutes

at first, sir, then called me
to alert the Homicide squad.

You only have his word for that.

Hang on.

I've got a, yeah, a
timed taxi receipt.

My calls will also be
logged on our mobile phones.

There was no collusion.

How did you meet this
woman, Dalziel?

It was in a bar De
Kuiper took us to.

I thought all the delegates
were supposed to be

at the formal dinner last night?

I didn't feel up to it.

Dalziel preferred to
stay on at the club.

Perhaps you were in pursuit
of this woman, Dalziel?

I had no such thought at all.

-All I was--
-Andy!

Save it for the interview.

Okay, let's have his
clothes off and bagged.

Hang on a minute.

Show me your arms and
hands, Dalziel.

All right, no scratches.

Put him in a suit, and
take him to the bathroom,

and clean him up.

Carefully.

Look, you're trying to make out

it was some kind of
predatory intent.

All he did was buy her a drink
'cause he liked her singing,

and she was English,

from Yorkshire, even better.

A friendly face in
a foreign land.

And all that.

We all saw it.

I'll have your statement
later, Mr. Pascoe.

Thank you.

What a mess.

Keep right on top
of this, Boersma.

I will, sir.

Detective Superintendent
Andrew Dalziel,

I'm arresting you in
connection with the murder

of Tracey Baxter.

Take him out, cover his head.

Sit down, please.

Like some coffee
or tea, Dalziel?

Water will be fine.

Good.

Now, tell me what happened.

Aren't you taking this,
or making notes?

It's not the Dutch way.

No smart defense solicitor
sitting in?

Listen, I've got up to six hours

to interview you alone.

Now, after that,

the lawyers and the rest
of the stuff kicks in.

So for now,

we chat.

Quite English, don't you think?

If we had a system like this,

I could triple my
conviction rate.

You can make up anything.

Don't think I could make up
what you've done, Dalziel.

So.

Did you plan to have sex?

I can't recall it
crossing my mind.

I just liked her singing,

and the fact that she
was from Yorkshire.

There was a posy of
flowers at the flat.

Did you buy them for her?

Can't say.

How about these condoms

found near the bedside?

Yours or hers?

I can't remember buying them.

Did you make out with her?

I don't know.

I can't remember anything from

getting back to her flat

to waking up and finding
Tracey dead next to me.

This six or seven hour memory
lapse is very convenient.

It's just the opposite.

Because I can't defend myself

by recalling what
I actually did.

Right, Tracey had been in
Haarlem for just over two years

paying tax and insurance, no
convictions, no fines, nothing.

A good citizen by
the look of it.

Did you manage to find an
English address for her?

No.

Do you trust me when I say

I don't believe Dalziel's
not capable of this?

Peter, this is a murder case.

The evidence will tell
me what to believe.

You can change in these clothes.

Anything for me?

Well, I've got 47 Tracey Baxters

come up on the first search.

I had to log on National
Insurance for that.

There's nothing from the
police national computer.

I've yet to try the
passport office, though.

Have you got any other
details for us, sir?

Yeah, get Spicer to check
on any showbiz link,

you know, agents, club owners.

One of them must know her.

E-mail it to my laptop.

I thought you'd be at the
conference all day, sir.

I have to take some time
out for this bloody case.

Right, let's find out what the
bastard did to her, doctor.

Well, there are

14 stab wounds to the
upper torso and throat.

It was a frenzied
powerful attack.

Are the wounds consistent

to the kitchen knife
we found at the flat?

Exact match, Superintendent.

What about bruising
to the body or arms?

Nothing.

She was probably asleep
when she was attacked.

The toxicology report shows
a high level of alcohol

in her blood stream,

and there are also traces
of lorazepam.

Do we have a date
rape here as well?

Lorazepam and alcohol

can be a recreational
combination, sir.

Well, she had sex, for sure,

but it wasn't forced.

I've sent vaginal swabs
to the laboratory

to identify the DNA of
the man she slept with.

The sex was unprotected.

So, he couldn't even
be bothered.

* Oh the sharp cats

* Ready Tuesday

I'm sorry, we're closed.

I just wondered if I could
ask you some questions

about Tracey Baxter.

Are you a journalist?

No, I'm an English
police officer.

We're trying to find out
about her background here

so we can locate
her next of kin.

Excuse me,

we're all pretty devastated
about what's happened.

I think it's a bit too soon
to be answering questions.

I do sympathize, but
it's gotta be done, Mr.--

The name's Gary, I'm
the owner here.

I think we should leave
this to the Dutch police.

As you wish,

but I would like to
know more about Tracey.

I hear they've got
a guy under arrest.

One of the cops who was in here,

English one.

Is that true?

That's a matter for
the Dutch police.

Look,

Tracey worked here for
about 18 months.

She was a very good singer,

very popular with our clientele.

Okay?

I have to go.

Talk to Jacob, he's
been here for years.

I don't drug women for sex,

and I know my limitations.

If she had slacked me off, I
would have laughed it barely.

I wouldn't have killed her.

But as I don't remember
anything.

First findings:

fingerprint matches for Dalziel

on door handles, whiskey glass,
toilet lever, and the knife.

I think it's time to alert the
Public Prosecutor's Office.

Can't you just leave us
alone to mourn our loss,

Mr. Whatever your name is?

Detective Inspector Pascoe,
Mid Yorkshire police.

Can you show a bit of respect?

Tracey and I are the
main performers here.

I should have been
singing last night,

so how do you think
that makes me feel?

You were switched?

By whom?

They thought

Tracey would be better for
the police guys to listen to.

Who's they?

The people who organized
the cop conference.

I got a call from a
Superintendent De Kuiper.

She was a sweet one with
songs for the tourists.

My stuff's a bit darker,
for the regulars.

Right, that's enough.

Could you please leave
us, Mr. Pascoe?

Okay.

I'm sorry to intrude
on your grief.

The Dutch police must pay well

for you to land something
like this.

I'm a lone parent, and
I almost never go out.

Tell me, what do you know
about Superintendent De Kuiper?

He's okay.

Dedicated.

Gets a little stressed
out occasionally.

Would it have been De
Kuiper's decision

to choose the Blue
Parrot last night?

I guess so.

Some of our detectives go there

when they want to
drink after work.

Does he?

No, no, no, no, far to grand.

Well, it seems as though
he arranged for Tracey

to be singer rather than
Dutch girl called Frida.

So?

He probably wanted
an English voice.

It wasn't his fault
Tracey got murdered.

-Peter--
-No.

No, I'm not suggesting it was.

You haven't managed
to find out anything

about the flowers in
Tracey's flat, have you?

I'm afraid I can't
help you on that.

Boersma's been locked away
with Dalziel all morning,

and Amsterdam is
full of flowers.

Any case, you have
bigger worries.

I think Dalziel's case
will go to the prosecutor

before the end of the day.

Lateef?

Are you there?

-Can you see me?
-Yes sir.

You look a bit knackered, if
you don't mind me saying so.

Thanks.

-Is it safe to talk?
-Yeah, I'm in your office.

Well, the word is the case
against Dalziel is very strong.

But his privacy will be
respected until there's a
charge,

so, the Chief Counsel

will be kept out of the
loop for a while.

That's one relief.

Did you get that latest
list of Tracey Baxters?

Yeah, I did,

but none of them match what
I or Andy know about her.

I visited two local
booking agents, sir,

but neither remembered
anybody of that name

in the Yorkshire circuit.

Can you get me a photo?

Yeah, there's a flyer
I can fax you, Spicer.

Parvez, you haven't seen
any missing persons reports

have you, on a Brit
in Amsterdam?

A male, early 30s,

a Sheffield Wednesday tattoo
on the upper left arm.

I'll check, but football
season's over.

Might have been out with
a group of mates on a

cheap flight, weekend pisser.

Well, he got a bullet in
the head for his hangover.

Sorry.

Sounds like drug trade, then.

I'll check West Yorkshire, sir.

Okay.

Log on again at

-seven p.m. my time.
-Okay.

You're straying
off your beat, Mr. Pascoe.

We do the same back home.

Boards.

You shouldn't be looking
at case details.

We may need to interview you.

I've nothing to hide.

My office, now.

Tell me about Dalziel.

Does he cruise for
women back home?

-Pay for it, even?
-Neither.

He has a small circle of female
friends, often old flames.

And he's respectful to them all.

It's just that he and
marriage don't fit.

Has he ever been cautioned

about his behavior
towards women?

Look,

I don't like this insidious
questioning.

If you're trying to suggest
that Dalziel was a sex attacker,

you're way out of line.

Are we done?

Fancy some fresh air?

You think I
did it, don't you?

No,

but do you think that?

If I was leading
this case,

I'd have charged me by now.

Everything seems to suggest
I killed her.

What can you remember?

Fragments, that's all.

I'm trying to find out

if there's anything in
Tracey's background

that might suggest
someone else killed her.

I doubt it.

She seemed pure as the
driven snow to me.

-Nobody's that good.
-Look,

I'm not having her name
dragged through the dirt

just so you can try
and clear me, Peter.

Do you remember seeing a
posy of flowers in her flat?

Flowers?

No, why?

On the table?

I'm just trying to work
out what they were for.

Present from a boyfriend maybe.

It's a pretty routine
line of thinking, Peter.

I've got no help out here.

I have to start somewhere.

Flowers.

Did you buy them?

Was she celebrating something?

A birthday?

A pay rise?

A record deal?

Had she been to a party?

Wedding.

When we were in the cafe,

I think she mentioned
something about a wedding.

Well, not her own presumably.

I can't remember.

This one's for our
friend Tracey,

and for all of you who knew her.

* When your down

* And troubled

* And you need

* A helping hand

* And nothing

* Nothing is going right

* Close your eyes
and think of me *

* And soon

* I will be there

* To brighten up

* Even your darkest night

* You just call out my name

I was a big fan of Tracey, too.

Do I know you?

Peter Pascoe.

I thought she was a
star in the making.

I've got a lot of interest

in her demo disc from
record companies.

It was only a matter of
weeks, I'm sure of it.

Perhaps you can still
get someone

to release it posthumously.

She could be the
next Eva Cassidy.

Well, it's not the same
as having her around.

So, you were more than just
fond of her then, Marty?

Who are you to ask me
all these questions?

-Are you a journalist?
-Just an interested party.

In what way?

As in who murdered her.

Oh, please I don't want
to think about that.

That's so horrible.

I need a quick
turnaround, Emmanuel.

Yeah?

Suffered a bit of
a loss this week,

so, don't be too fussy
how you cut the diamonds.

I need them on the market
as quickly as possible

-for my buyers.
-

Hello?

Don't be silly, darling,
the flight's only one hour.

You'll be back here in no time.

No, you
come back to me.

I promise I'll make
it up to you, yeah.

We've got about three minutes
before he's back at the hotel.

Now, you tell me, yes or no?

You're sure?

Okay.

-Lucky man, Mr. Pascoe.
-

Dalziel took drugs,
too, like the girl.

Lorazepam.

It's quite a fun drug in
Amsterdam; it loosens
inhibitions.

Forensics also found a
container of the pills

in Tracey Baxter's handbag.

Dalziel never uses drugs.

Well, he did.

And it would certainly help
explain his memory loss.

But Andy wouldn't even
take cough medicine

without reading the
label three times.

Why lorazepam?

Maybe they both wanted
to have wild sex.

No, Andy seemed to think

that Tracey was pretty
straight-laced.

We all have a dark side,
Peter, let's not pretend.

You first.

How will this affect the
prosecutor's decision?

Who knows.

They might say he lost control,

but that won't absolve him
completely of responsibility.

-Does Boersma know yet?
-It's on his desk.

Is there a central register
office in Amsterdam,

you know, for civil weddings?

On the Oudezijds Voorburgwal.

Why?

Well, I think Tracey
might have been to,

or planned to go to a
wedding that morning.

I don't suppose you
managed to find her diary

or address book, have you?

Not as far as I'm aware.

We've got her mobile phone.

It's been sent away
for examination.

Can you let me know if there's
any further developments?

The favors are running
out, Peter.

I can't brief you much more.

De Kuiper's breathing
down my neck, I'm sorry.

Ah, don't worry.

I've asked you too much
of you already.

None of this eliminates
you from our inquiries.

The drunk that kills

doesn't get lesser
treatment than a sober man.

I don't use drugs.

Blood tests don't lie, Dalziel.

For whatever reason,

you and this young woman
indulged in a drug pact.

DNA samples confirm that
you were inside her body.

Now she's dead, and you're not.

Culpability lies with you.

Now the only procedure left

is to identify two other samples
of DNA found at the flat.

-Where exactly?
-I can't say.

Most likely from previous
visitors.

Cleaner, perhaps, or Tracey.

The Prosecutor will decide
how relevant they are.

But don't build your hopes up.

Baxter?

No.

I can't see that name,
Inspector Pascoe.

I'm not certain she was a
bride, more likely a guest.

We don't keep records of guests.

But was there a wedding
in the past few days

between two British citizens?

Mr. Sam Hudson and Miss
Jasmina Razzaq.

But they failed to turn up
at their appointed time.

Was there
any explanation?

We conduct four weddings an
hour in three separate rooms.

If a couple don't turn up,
there's no time to ask why.

You don't take any
subsequent action,

like informing the police?

Why should we?

This is a civil ceremony.

We would only inform
the police if there were

discrepancies about a birth
certificate or passports.

Well, thank you for your help.

Can I just take their addresses?

This is private, I'm afraid.

There may be a criminal
inquiry involved.

I would appreciate
your assistance.

Parvez,

I've got two names for you.

One of them you'll have to
ask West Yorkshire about,

but the other one's
from our patch,

an Asian girl from Padbury.

You got a pen?

Names?

Sam Hudson

and Jasmina Razzaq.

We don't log names in

until 24 hours after
they've been reported.

Most are false alarms.

Doesn't look as though
it's in yet.

I think Tracey Baxter may
have reported them missing.

That's the girl who
was murdered.

So, I can't give you
any information on that.

Sorry.

Okay,

I understand it.

Perhaps you can mention my
query to Inspector Boersma then.

Of course.

Dick Simmons, British consulate.

Senior Police and
Security Attache.

Nasty business.

What is?

This mess your colleague Mr.
Dalziel's got himself into.

He's not been charged yet.

Let's hope it stays that way.

Now, if there's any way
we can be of help,

local knowledge and such.

What did you have in mind?

Who are you?

Detective Constable Parvez
Lateef, Mid Yorkshire CID.

-Are you Mr. Razzaq?
-Aye.

I've never seen an Asian
policeman up here before.

There's always a first time.

What's up?

It's not about Jasmina is it?

One of your people has been
ringing a few alarm bells.

Parvez Lateef?

He's a young DC on our force.

So?

So, this is a matter
for the Dutch police

and the consulate.

I get it.

-A turf war.
-No, it's a tiff.

You're backing Dalziel, but

there's a right way to proceed,

and a rogue investigation's
not it.

If I'm being warned off,
at least tell me why.

Can't say just yet.

Tracey's dead.

What's there to be
concerned about

other than finding her killer?

There are ramifications.

Such as?

Made any progress on IDing
the Brit in the canal?

There's dozens go into the
canal every year, you know,

trying to pee when
they're drunk.

This one had a bullet
in his head.

Is his death connected
to Tracey Baxter?

I don't think so, do you?

I don't know.

-But I might have a name.
-Good.

And it's?

I can't say just yet.

Well, you won a little
victory there, Dalziel.

The Public Prosecutor allowed
you the equivalent of bail.

He was swayed by your
cooperate conduct

during the investigation

because you didn't leave
the crime scene.

He also wants us to establish
a motive for Tracey's murder.

We have to identify the two
DNA samples at the flat.

Amazing what you could
achieve without a solicitor.

But your release is
under strictest of terms.

He's holding your passport,

and he wants you to check in
to this station every 24 hours.

This doesn't make me feel
any better, you know.

I still want justice for Tracey.

So do we.

That's why you are confined
to your hotel.

You will not speak to the press.

Sergeant Breukink and the
others will provide you

with a 24-hour escort.

If you breach any of
these conditions,

you will be subject to an
international arrest warrant.

We can pull you in any time

further evidence
incriminates you.

Your case is far from
over, Dalziel.

Get dressed, Andy.

They're not doing any
checks on your behalf,

but I am, and somebody
seems very keen to stop me.

Both had my room and
computer trashed.

And the security chief
at the consulate

is blanking me on Tracey's
background.

Sounds like you've made
one or two enemies, Peter.

Okay, let's get you back
to your hotel, Dalziel.

Fancy a quick drink
before lock up?

A single malt if
they've got one.

Do you mind if I take
a quick pee first?

You know the terms, Mr. Dalziel.

-I know.
-We'll see you in the bar.

Can I just ask one last favor?

I think Tracey might have
reported her two friends
missing.

Can you check and see
if there's anything

back at the office?

Also, there's CCTV
covering the front desk.

It might be worth a look.

Dalziel is taking his time.

There's only one bar
in here, isn't there?

Yes.

Give me a second.

Did Mr. Dalziel go to his room?

No.

-Don't even try to explain.
-Look,

we've got 23 hours before
Dalziel is reported.

Let me find him.

-I can do it.
-Oh, get real, Peter!

I have to tell Boersma to come,

so you have about 20 minutes.

These English cops
are humiliating us.

What do they call it,
taking the piss.

I did warn you not
to trust them.

I'm sorry.

I offered them friendship,
they abused it.

You're off the case
Sargent Breukink.

Get to your desk where
you can do less harm.

Right, Boersma.

Sort out this mess quickly.

Yes sir.

Right!

Up off your asses, all of you.

I want photos of Dalziel
distributed

to patrols around the city.

I want all the main
transport hubs

to go on alert for this guy.

You lot go out on the streets
and track this man down.

Every hotel is to be checked,

rechecked.

He's a foreigner in a
city that's new to him.

Should be easy to find,

even for you.

Let's hope for your sake
that we find Dalziel soon.

Keep your head down
for a few days.

Yes sir.

I can't protect him
anymore, Parvez.

He's given me the run around.

I don't know what's going
on in his head.

Maybe we can help, sir.

What the hell's going on?

The chief constable's
really gonna love this.

Sorry, sir.

We thought you could
use extra eyes and legs.

One got a day's leave
especially.

Unpaid at that.

Can you imagine how much pain
it causes me as a Yorkshirman?

Sorry.

I can't say help isn't needed.

So, thank you.

-

Is that enough here?

-Yeah.

-Yes, three nights, yeah?

Three.

-Yeah, yeah.

Top floor?

Oh, the very top, very top.

English.

It isn't a disaster.

Please stay calm.

The fact that he's
gone underground

will do him no good at all.

Just to have you out of my
way, have a look at a new case.

Uniform picked up a
body about four a.m.

North African, mid-20s,
hit by a car, and killed.

And then someone, for
whatever perverted reason,

eviscerated him.

Be very careful how you go.

We can't risk any racial
tensions on this one.

Just a road accident,
if anybody asks.

Yes sir.

This is Tracey Baxter,

the singer Mr. Dalziel
woke up alongside.

She'd been stabbed to death.

Now, all the forensic
evidence is against Dalziel:

he slept with her,

his prints are all over
the murder weapon,

and they've both
taken lorazepam.

Because of the drugs, he
can't remember anything.

Sorry, but why isn't
he in custody, sir?

The prosecutor gave Andy credit

for his conduct during
the investigation,

and he wants a motive
established.

This is Jasmina Razzaq.

According to her dad,
she's still under threat

from her mother's family
for divorcing her cousin.

Now, if that's the case,

her fiance Sam Hudson
would also be in trouble

from an honor killing.

Well, he was certainly
killed, if this is him.

Any word from West Yorkshire
police on Sam Hudson?

They checked the address he
gave to the register office,

and it's an old flat.

Jasmina gave her
dad's address, so

obviously they both wanted
to throw anyone chasing them

off the scent.

Jasmina's prospects
look pretty bleak, then.

They got Sam before
the wedding took place,

then Tracey for setting it up.

What's the
plan then, sir?

There is no plan.

We're bust in this.

Where are you with
Tracey Baxter?

She's a bit of a mystery,

especially as a security attache

that the British consulate
warned me off her.

I took these on my mobile.

This is the barman Jacob,

and Gary, the club owner.

And this is Frida,
the other singer.

Now, she and Tracey were
both managed by this guy,

-Marty Boak.
-

Hey all.

I did the usual missing
person's routine

on Dalziel's bank account
before I left.

He's withdrawn 500 euros from
a cash machine in Amsterdam

about ten minutes ago.

The request from Inspector
Boersma,

this man's death is down as
a traffic accident for now.

Well, all the exterior
wounds, fractured skull,

fractured sternum, are
consistent with being hit by a
car.

But then his stomach
was cut open crudely.

Could it have been
a ritual killing?

Seems unlikely in
the circumstances.

Must have been a mule
who swallowed his cargo?

Almost certainly.

Not that I could detect
what he had swallowed.

They usually carry
it in condoms.

How old was he?

No more than 25.

What a waste.

-I had a trade off in mind.
-What for?

Information on Tracey
Baxter, the murdered singer.

She's supposed to
be from Yorkshire.

There's no birth listed
for any woman of that name,

or that age group.

It's probably an error
in the system.

Look, you've now got two
dead British citizens,

and one missing, presumed dead.

And I am the one

who gets the rough end
of the stick, Pascoe,

escorting bereaved
relatives to murder sites,

freighting bodies home.

I think the body in the canal
was a man from Sheffield.

Sam Hudson.

He was due to marry an
Asian girl from Padbury,

Jasmina Razzaq.

Thank you.

So,

Tracey Baxter.

She was in the witness
protection program.

Just over two years ago,

she gave crucial evidence
at the trial of a,

a leading criminal.

A murder was committed at a
club where Tracey was singing,

and the other witnesses
were scared off.

But the man who was killed
was Tracey's boyfriend,

a waiter who had spilled
the gangster's drink.

So, Tracey got her
revenge in court.

And relocation here
with a new identity.

What about the killer?

Is he still a threat?

Well, that's what
I had to check.

His prison governor

says that he got religion big
time last year and repented.

And his prison psychiatrist
thinks that he is

a reformed character.

You knew this right
from the moment

Lateef started making
inquiries about Tracey Baxter.

I was her contact in Holland.

So, you understand I
had to be very careful,

especially as I had to
establish whether Dalziel

had any prior contact
with the jailed killer.

We are now satisfied
that he didn't.

Nor did Tracey contact me
thinking she was in danger.

What was the killer's name?

What was Tracey's real name?

Ask your chief constable.

-English?

What do you want?

I'm trying to find my sister.

She disappeared here
in Amsterdam.

She'd have been frightened
and confused.

Her name's Jasmina Razzaq.

I don't think she's here.

Can I come in?

This is a women's refuge.

No men are allowed.

Too many of them say
they are family.

We know what they want.

What can I do, then?

I'm really worried about her.

Talk to the Imam at the mosque.

He'll guide you and
vouch for you,

if you are who you say you are.

Greta, there's a copy of a
report that's not on file.

It must have been sent upstairs

with the original
for processing.

It's not on the computer.

Yet, judging by the
numbers of the one before

and the one after, it should.

Two missing Brits, does
it mean anything to you?

Yeah.

I remember an English
woman reporting two friends

who hadn't turned up
for their wedding.

She gave me a couple
of photos, too.

And where are they now?

Upstairs?

Okay, thanks.

Can you dig out a CCTV tape
for the period, please?

Sure, give me 20 minutes,
and I'll bring it up to you.

Good.

Don't show it to anyone
else, will you?

Okay.

How's it going?

It's not easy getting
through people,

even if you are the same faith.

At least Mr. Pascoe managed
to get a lead on Dalziel.

Yeah?

I think he's holed up in the
damn market area of the city,

not far from where he
withdrew his cash.

I mean, he's still a fat
needle in a messy haystack,

but at least we know
he's around.

Well, I'm sorry to disappoint
you, sir.

I've got two further
messages from his bank.

He's made four withdrawals
later this afternoon

all from different
areas of the city.

Crafty beggar.

He's leading us all a dance.

What's Mr. Dalziel
up to now, sir?

I guess he's trying to
find out for himself

if he's really a murderer.

Cheers, Nige.

Yeah, a pint of proper beer
next time you're over, eh.

All right,

get this.

In the room up to the trial
in which Tracey testified,

Jasmina's thought to be at risk

because she was Tracey's
best friend,

so, Jasmina's relocated as well.

And PC Sam Hudson was
made a protection officer.

Then she and Sam started
an affair,

which led to him resigning
from the force 18 months later.

And Tracey must have invited
them over here because

Amsterdam would have
seemed like a safe place

to get married.

So, all three of them
broke their cover, then.

Leaving them as sitting ducks

for everyone who wanted
to kill them.

-The Yorkshire gangster.
-Or the Razzaq relatives.

But we still don't know
why Dalziel wasn't killed.

Yeah, if only he could remember.

Still switched off.

I'm going out to look for him.

I feel a bit giddy.

Too much champagne.

I'll walk you to your door,

and I could listen
to your demo disc

another night, all right?

Oh, no, you've come this far.

Just one more drink.

Come on.

Mason?

It's Andy Dalziel.

-Have you got a minute?
-Andy!

I'm halfway through my
pre-evening coffee break,

a pungent double espresso
and some delicious

amoretti morbidi.

Well, I won't stop you
from dipping your biscuit.

Just some technical advice.

Say I've had two malts,

a couple of glasses of red
wine, and another malt,

and a dose of something
called laporazide,

how long before I
start to lose it?

Lorazepam.

It's similar to the
date rape drug rohypnol,

and with that amount of
booze swirling about you,

I'd say you'd be out of it
within an hour, 75 minutes tops.

What's the span of memory loss?

Well, you'll be pretty
much gaga for a day or so,

and even then, you'd only
be getting fragments back.

It'll be about the same

of your erectile functions
too, my old China.

Andy?

It was a joke.

The Blue Parrot.

-Yeah?
-Sir.

I took the liberty of contacting

his mobile phone
company earlier.

They just emailed me.

Made a call to England
about 20 minutes ago,

from somewhere on Bloemgracht.

Top man.

Call me if you get another fix.

I always told you about

how it would catch
up with you, Andy.

Go home, Peter.

Let me finish this.

I've got stuff you need to know.

Me too.

And I bet mine's better
than yours.

Well, not if that hat's
anything to go by.

Come back to the hotel.

Lateef and Posh have
come over to help out.

I think the Dutch planted
out that welcome, don't you?

Besides, I've got things
to do tonight.

Andy, you're the most
wanted man in Amsterdam.

No Peter.

That's who ever killed
Tracey, and I'm after him.

Your phone calls
are being traced.

You better get moving.

I'll contact you when I'm ready.

He seems to think he's
on to something.

If he just
let us help him.

Anna.

Can I get you a drink?

I need to talk to you, Peter.

In private.

Sure.

I found these tucked away
in a file in Boersma's desk.

They're a vital piece
of evidence,

so, I don't understand why
he's been sitting on them.

Did you manage to
get the CCTV tape?

It's been blanked at the
time when Tracey Baxter

would have been making her
missing person's report.

Well why would Boersma
have done that?

I don't think it was him.

The desk officer recalled
that De Kuiper

was passing through at the time.

He could have come back
later and taken it.

So, he might have
spotted Tracey.

And later in the day, she
takes Frida place at the club.

Sounds more than a coincidence.

Has De Kuiper been
acting strangely?

Well, it may have been

because of organizing
the conference.

But all this week, he's been
jumpy and short-tempered.

It's not like him.

Maybe you should tell Boersma.

Would you mind driving me home

just to make sure that
everything's all right?

I'm pretty sure I was
followed here by a car

from the police station.

No problem.

I'll just let my, I'll
have my friends know.

They seem to young
to be your friends.

They're young officers
from our police force.

They came over on their
own accord to help out.

You must all have great
belief in Dalziel's innocence.

Good bye.

Don't either scream or shout,

'cause I'm not gonna
hurt you, I promise.

I just want to ask
you a question.

You're a bloody murderer,

of course you're
going to hurt me.

When Tracey finished the show,

you served me and her
with drinks on the house.

De Kuiper put 20 euros
behind the bar.

And someone put lorazepam
into them.

Was it you?

-No.
-I don't believe you.

Every time I walked back
to Tracey's flat,

and the time we spent
in the wine bar,

the doping couldn't
have taken place there,

because I'd have remember
more about the night.

So, who put you up to it.

Look, I'm just the head barman.

I don't have anything
to do with what goes on.

What does go on?

We just turn a blind
eye to girls

coming in to cruise for clients.

They were not in
when I was here.

Yeah, because we had a bar
full of cops, didn't we.

I told them to stay away.

So, why was I doped?

So someone could fit
me up for murder?

I don't know.

They told me it was just
a practical joke.

By who?

De Kuiper?

Who then?

If I tell you, I'm a dead man.

What's his name?

-I can't.
-You tell him

he's a dead man when
I get to him.

And I will.

No sign of Pascoe
at the club, then?

No, I warned the girls to
beat it if he turned up.

You're a proper madam.

I can't do seven nights
for too long, Gary.

My voice won't hold up.

Marty phoned earlier today.

He said a new English
girl turned up.

Sounds quite promising.

As a singer.

-This time of night?

Yes, Hendriks, what is it?

Right.

Somebody's playing
silly buggers.

Let's deal with it.

Okay, Frida, time to go.

I've got business to deal with.

I can't stay here, can't I?

You're not my girlfriend, Frida.

You're just somebody I sleep
with when it suits us both.

Get a taxi.

There's something you
ought to know, Peter.

De Kuiper is the father
of my daughter.

Well, I wouldn't have guessed.

Nobody on the knows about us.

I thought you said the
police setup here

was very family friendly.

It was a one-night stand
after a party.

When I became pregnant,
he didn't want to know

because he was married with
two kids of his own back then.

But I decided to keep the baby.

What if de Kuiper is
meddling in this murder case?

If he's corrupt, it
puts her future at risk.

I think we need more evidence.

Let me take the photos
to Boersma tomorrow.

Well, I'd

better go back to
my young friends.

Hello?

What?

-Now?
-

I've already lost one this week,

although I'm hoping
to recover it,

and now another's
failed to turn up.

Who was the courier, Andrew?

I only know his first
name, Aziz.

Mid-20s, a guy from
Western Sahara.

He was due in the other night,
but he failed to turn up.

You may find him in the morgue.

Traffic accident.

Let's go, we claim the
body then, shall we?

He's no use to you.

Somebody ripped his guts out.

Play De Kuiper the
phone message.

Hendriks, I'm
closing your network down.

Then I'm coming after
you and your chief.

You won't see me coming until
the second before you die.

Some bloody African muscling in.

I can't do anything about this.

If you've got a war on your
hands, deal with it quietly.

I see you as an employee.

Don't you ever think you own me.

You're on very thin ice.

I keep financial records,

and I also know about
your little love child.

Betty.

So, you're threatening
a 13-year-old girl?

Tell my chief I had an affair?

This is mutually a short
destruction escort.

I've got everything on you, too.

I think this relationship
is over, don't you?

Not quite.

Just one last favor.

Now, we know Dalziel
is still in our city

from his cash withdrawals.

Now,

two dead Brits, one missing,

all in the space of a few days

looks very much like a
deliberate killing spree.

And can they all be
linked to Dalziel?

Well, I think he killed
Tracey Baxter, sir,

but this one was already dead

the morning Dalziel arrived.

What if they arrived the
night before, he and Pascoe,

and then just pretended
to be at the station

the next morning?

Well, if you want us to,

we'll check the train
company's passenger list.

Right.

The rest of you,

work out where Dalziel is
sleeping during the day.

A present for Betty.

It was her birthday last
week, wasn't it?

Yes.

I just put my name on the
label, no dad or anything.

You're a colleague from
work, that's all.

When she's eighteen and
able to deal with it,

I'll let her know.

I'd like to see her,
to get to know her.

Why now?

Well it struck me that
I should have been

much more a father than
just writing checks.

Is there anything wrong?

Something you want to tell me?

No, nothing major.

And even if there was,
I couldn't tell you.

Is it a police matter?

I know about the missing person
report Tracey Baxter made

and the two photos she left.

Does Boersma know?

-I haven't told him yet.
-But you want to?

Keep away from this, Anna?

Stop being used by
the bastard Pascoe.

I don't care about myself.

But there are things
going on that might,

might harm you

and Betty.

Hello this is
Gary Lescott's phone.

-Please leave a message.
-

Lescott,
it's De Kuiper.

After last night, it's
over now, okay?

You don't call me,
I don't call you.

We live separate lives.

-

-English?
-Yeah, of course, no problem.

I'm sorry to bother you, ma'am,

but I'm trying to contact
friends of a relative

who died recently.

They sent such nice
flowers from your shop.

I wanted to write to
them and say thank you.

Do you have this girl's address?

I'm not sure.

Well, it should be on
your original order.

-All right, can I take this?
-Yeah.

I'll check it for
you, no problem.

Thanks very much.

Have a seat.

I have new reasons to
believe Dalziel is innocent.

You know about Tracey
Baxter's real status.

I do.

I liaise with Dave Simmons
every day, so.

These photos were handed
into this police station

by Tracey last Tuesday

when she reported her
friends missing.

You should have a
look at that, too.

It's been wiped

at the precise moment when
Tracey filed the report.

How did you get that?

Sorry.

I am protecting someone, too.

But clearly there's a
detective on your team

working against this
investigation.

Now, I have my suspicions,

but I think you should
find the evidence for once.

Are you trying to push
a deal on me, Pascoe?

'Cause I'll bring you
in too if you are.

I'm asking you to take a
look at the new material

and reassess your view
on Dalziel's case.

-As a professional.
-You know where he is?

No.

-I'm not looking.
-You're a liar.

We contacted his bank

and found out that one
of your colleagues

had beaten us to it.

Work quicker then.

Listen, if we pull our
resources, we can sort this out

to our mutual satisfaction,
that is.

As everyone keeps telling me,
I have no jurisdiction here.

Besides, you still
think Dalziel is guilty.

I do.

No deal then.

Frida,

I'm Andy Dalziel,

the policeman who's supposed
to have killed Tracey.

-Go away.
-Look,

I'm not chasing you, look.

I just wanna warn you
your life's in danger.

Not from me, but from
somebody at the Blue Parrot.

Tracey and I were drugged

-at the club by Jacob.
-I don't believe you.

-Now, please leave me alone.
-Look.

If you and Tracey hadn't
swapped nights,

I might have ended up here

stabbing you and not her,

-just as somebody wanted.
-What are you trying to say?

That you were probably
in line to die.

Frida!

Just think about it.

Who might have wanted you dead?

Keep walking to the car.

Take a seat, my friend.

Okay.

Tell me who you are.

I'm Andy, and I don't
know what I'm doing here.

I think you're lying to me.

Why would I lie when you
have a gun to my head?

This is true.

I'm here for business.

The man I want to talk to,

apparently visits that
dark-haired woman from time to
time.

It was my first time,
and I didn't get in.

She sings at the
Blue Parrot Club.

Her name is Frida.

You know a lot.

-Your name Hendriks?
-No.

Dalziel.

-It's Scottish.
-Give me your wallet, slowly.

Detective Superintendent
Andrew Dalziel.

Are you a policeman, too?

In a matter of speaking.

I work for a government.

What has this Hendriks done
to deserve your attention?

He's a bit of a nuisance
to the part of West Africa.

Where I come from.

What is he?

Mercenary?

-Arms trader?
-Both.

He feeds on the trade
in blood diamonds.

What should benefit my people,

benefits rich gangsters
here and at home.

Hendriks being one?

He only runs the mules.

I want the man who runs him.

It's nothing to do with me.

I'm sorry.

I'm on a different case.

I'm going to spare
your life, Andy.

But I think you should
get out of the way.

There's a big train coming.

I think the woman called
out her friends.

I'm going to try a
little experiment.

This is Hendrik's phone number.

So,

let's watch.

-

What did he look like?

He had a little stubble.

He looked like he'd
been living rough.

Did he harm you?

No.

No, not at all.

He said he was trying
to help me.

How would that be?

He said he and Tracey had
been drugged at the club

before Tracey was killed.

That the same could
have happened to me.

Why would he say that, Gary?

Did you let him in?

No.

He got his hand on the door,

but that's as far as he went.

I'm coming in.

Tracey and I were drugged
at the Blue Parrot,

not at her flat.

The barman did it,

but I don't know why or who for.

There are two theories
that only go so far:

that Tracey was killed either
by a vengeful criminal,

or because she got caught
up in violence

instigated by Jasmina
Razzaq's ex-husband.

I stumbled into something
bigger tonight, anyway:

a one-man vigilante against
blood diamonds from Africa.

Shot a bloke called Hendriks
outside Frida's place.

I hope that's nothing
to do with us, Andy.

What were you doing
there anyway?

I wanted to find out if
Frida and her boyfriend

knew more about Tracey
than I apparently did.

By boyfriend, I take it
you mean this bloke, Gary.

He owns the Blue Parrot.

It's a bit fuzzy,
but that's him.

I've seen him pick
her up at the club.

He was driven home tonight
by the bloke who got shot.

This Gary is everywhere.

Now, he's the common link.

I'll need a description
of this incident

before I leave Dalziel.

It may tie in with another
death I'm investigating.

Anything we ought to know about?

A North African lying
in a mortuary

with his stomach ripped open.

If he was carrying diamonds,
the violence is explained.

That's it for me, kids.

I think I need a night's kip.

One last thought, sir.

It is an old story.

Brickworks in Pakistan.

This guy leaves the main
gates every week

with a wheelbarrow
full of straw.

The guard searches the
straw, nothing's ever found.

20 years later, last
day on the job,

the guard says to the guy,

"What have you been
taking from the factory?"

The guy said, "Wheelbarrows."

Your point is?

Maybe it weren't Tracey the
killer was after, but Dalziel.

She was the straw.

He the wheelbarrow.

I understood it better in Urdu.

No, I think I know what
he's getting at.

If it wasn't revenge on Tracey,

-then it might be on me.
-

Anna?

You heard Dalziel, he'd
been to see Frida,

and now she's dead.

I'll bring him in
tomorrow morning.

Promise.

Look, whatever happens,
I wasn't here, okay.

You can save my job at least.

How am I gonna get you
outta this one, Andy?

I swear,

I didn't even go inside
Frida's house.

Gary went in.

I saw him there.

Maybe he's the fellow
pushing the wheelbarrow.

Let's get some sleep.

You have my bed, I'll
kip down here.

I can't believe Dalziel would
be crazy enough to do this.

Must have lost his mind.

Or perhaps it's not his doing.

Frida was stabbed much
the same way as Tracey,

and it seems equally motiveless.

Well, I thought I was
off this case, anyway.

De Kuiper is out for
a day to rest.

Not like him.

It's not like you to
suspect a colleague.

You gave Pascoe the mislaid
photos and report, didn't you?

It's all right, I
don't blame you.

I ordered an audit of
De Kuiper's affairs

to see if he's on the take,
but you don't know that.

I had a tip off about this one.

There is a small war going on

in the illegal trade of blood
diamonds from West Africa.

He could be the latest victim.

Been busy.

Good.

I bet that'll be your
friends now Tracey

coming around to apologize.

What is it?

Andy, what's happening?

Remember me, Dalziel?

Oh, no, you won't.

But you'll remember tonight.

Andy!

Leave her alone.

She's all yours, Dalziel.

All yours.

Go on.

Lescott.

Gary Lescott.

Trained pharmacist.

Late 1980s.

He invented a drug to sedate
women so he could pull them.

One of them woke up when
he was screwing her,

so he knifed her.

He wrapped Tracey's
face in bubble wrap.

Forced us to have sex
with one another.

He killed her.

She wouldn't have felt any
pain, would she, Peter?

A complete setup.

Right from being taken
to that bar,

then spiking your drink, and
putting Tracey in your path.

-I better call Boersma.
-No.

No, Peter.

I want this one all to myself.

Well, this is a bit
of a turn up.

Might lead us to Jaz, anyway.

This is Jasmina's
brother Rashid.

He sought sanctuary with
a local Muslim family.

-Thank you.
-Thank you.

Good luck.

-Salaam.
-

Where's Jasmina?

Jaz has left messages

saying she was getting
married in Amsterdam.

So, I planned to
meet her and Sam

at this posh hotel for a drink.

But I had been working late.

As?

He's one of the blood
diamond mules, sir.

And who did you deliver to?

Hendriks, the tall guy
with a hard stare?

That's the one.

-And his boss.
-Lescott?

I don't know his name.

Anyway, I get smacked around
and dragged back to where

Jaz and Sam were having
their quiet drink,

and it all kicks off.

One of them grabs Jaz's handbag,

Sam dives in, I get Jaz outside.

It's the tall guy.

He's so violent.

Sam stood up to him.

He was so bloody brave.

So, where's Jaz now, then?

Don't know.

I told her to lie low
for a few days.

I've been trying to phone,
but she won't answer.

Ring her again.

Now.

-Jasmina Razzaq?
-Yes?

Jasmina,

this is Superintendent De
Kuiper of the Amsterdam police.

We've been looking for you.

-Are you safe?
-I'm fine.

We found the number.

Is Sam Hudson, my
fiance, with you?

He's in a safe place,
don't worry.

I want to see him.

All right.

All right.

I have an address, but
that's it now, it's over.

You get out of my life.

You pushed me over the line.

Covering up diamond
shipments I could justify,

but not murder.

You're a stupid ass, De Kuiper.

Get in the car.

It's ringing now.

Jaz?

It's Rash.

-Rash?
-Are you okay?

I've been going out of
my head with worry.

-What's happening?
-Where are you?

I'm at Meeuwenlaan 11, flat
number 3, Amsterdam North.

It's okay, the police
are coming to pick me up.

They've got Sam safe.

She's okay.

Apparently the police are
on their way to pick her up.

Told her Sam was alive.

Jaz, this is Detective
Inspector Pascoe

from Wetherton police.

Do not let them in.

Keep talking to her.

Got to get there before they do.

Phone Boersma for me.

Tell him I'm coming in,
and tell him where we are.

Show her your police badge
because she knows me.

Then stay out of the way.

Jasmina?

This is Superintendent De
Kuiper of the Amsterdam police.

There's a car waiting
for you downstairs.

You're safe now.

Pass it through
so I can read it properly.

-De Kuiper, what's going on?
-Hey, busted.

Open the door.

Taking guns to women
now, Lescott, are you?

You gained low in my estimation.

-

The gun's down, Peter!

I should have just killed you.

I feel much the same about you.

Look, the man's a walking
cliche, Peter.

Jaz, get out.

Sometimes it's good
to have no jurisdiction.

Come along.

Jaz, come on.

Your colleague's been
on Lescott's payroll

for several years

up to and including the
murder of Tracey Baxter.

Take him away.

Sorry.

Good job Betty never
knew her father.

You caused us some
mayhem Dalziel.

All in a good cause.

This is Gary Lescott.

Convicted killer of
a woman in England.

Soon to be the same in Holland.

Can I go home now?

Yeah.

* In the port of Amsterdam

* There's a sailor who drinks

* And he drinks, and he drinks

* And he drinks once again

* And he drinks to the health

* Of the whores of Amsterdam

* Who have promised their love

* To a thousand other men

* They've bargained
their bodies *

* And their virtue long gone

* But a few dirty coins

* And when he can't go on

* He plants his nose
in the sky *

* And he wipes it up above

* And he pisses like I cry

* For an unfaithful love

* In the Port of Amsterdam