All language subtitles for Life On Mars - S01E03

Oi, keep it on the road!

I'll come around your house
and stamp on your toys.

Sam? Are you listening, Sam?

I know you can hear me.

We've been monitoring you closely.

Say again, Alpha One?

We know you're still
in there, Sam.

You're right, I'm here,
I'm still here.

But your levels of responsiveness
have decreased recently.

You can't give up, Sam.

Whatever life-blood
is left in your veins, use it.

You must keep fighting.
Keep fighting, Sam.

870, respond? 870!

870, come in, will you!

Phyllis, is that you?

No, it's Jane Fonda
on the hunt for men.

I've got a reported stabbing.

Stabbing? Where?

Crester's Textiles, Queen Mary Road.
Uniform's already on the scene.

Queen Mary Road?

Alpha One,
we're all over it.

This is a one-way street,
so just take a left and...

Right nasty one in there, guv.

I didn't know folk had
that much blood in 'em.

I know, it's a shock, isn't it, eh?

She found him.
And it's horrible, Inspector.

- I don't believe it.
- Sam?

I live here...
I will live here.

- Derek.
- It's alright, Tina.

Dad, it's Jimmy Saunders.

Oh, aye?

Are you coming, or what?

Garage was over there.

There were like,
four apartments on this floor.

This is all gonna be flats
in thirty years.

This is just unbe...lievable.

Trouble at mill.

Loom operator.
Jimmy Saunders.

Shocking stuff.

The only shocking thing is
that this didn't happen sooner.

Under my kitchen table.

He's in my flat.

My name is Sam Tyler.

I had an accident
and I woke up in 1973.

Am I mad? In a coma?
Or back in time?

Whatever's happened, it's like
I've landed on a different planet.

Now maybe if I can work out
a reason, I can get home.

It's warm, eh?

Throws you a bit, dunnit?

Hundred years of toil that.

The heat just bleeds
through the brick.

Makes it a living thing.

Living things need to keep
working on the inside.

Once the inside stops...

It's just a shell.

Anyway.

What if you don't catch him?

We will.

Collected enemies like stamps,
did Saunders.

Why?

If the mill's gonna survive into
the next century, it has to modernise.

Saunders was the only fella
ready to adapt.

How do you mean, Mr Coynes?

We're planning to pull out
the old looms. Upgrade 'em.

The new ones
do the work of three men.

- That means the ones that wanna stay...
- Have to prove themselves.

The immigrants, well,
they're a little brown army.

Happy to work triples.

But our lads... different story.

Too gobby
since the unions merged, see.

Saunders thought
they were holding everyone back.

So by working triple shifts,
he was defying the union.

He could see
the way the future lay.

What, and someone
killed him for that?

- So, what happens now?
- Well, we close you down,

we catch the baddie,
open you up again.

Sort it quick, won't you?
It's supposed to be payday today.

They'll go mad.
Place is a powder keg as it is.

You leave it with me.
Take no time at all, sir.

Oi, Mary Mary, shift yourself.
You're in the way.

Let him do his job.

It's a right messy one, this.

- Chris?
- Yeah?

I want you to record the shape
of this blood on the floor.

Blood pattern analysis?
By D.H. Cromby.

I'll wait for the film, thanks.

Oh, you'd like the book.
It's got pictures.

Right. Wounds are at the front
so he was facing his attacker.

No bird would be capable of taking on
a big fella like this head-on.

Killer's male.

Great.
That really narrows it down.

I try and teach him and
he just doesn't learn, does he?

No, guv. Sorry, boss.
No, guv.

Cases like this follow
a certain pattern, boss.

Sure as bacon follows eggs.

Limited number of suspects.
We know it's a bloke,

so it's not a crime of passion.

Unless he's a kinky bloke.

This is a factory,
not a town hall.

No, this is a union bloke
with an axe to grind.

And here's the clincher.

Golden rule in these cases is,
the first one to speak did it.

It was robbery, you know.

There's plenty of lowlife out there
who knew Saunders had dough.

They did it for the cash.

Is that right, Mr...?

Bannister. Ted Bannister.

Let's bring him in
and put him in the canteen.

Morning, gents.
Seen the press?

Just thought
you'd want to see it.

Well, it makes nice headlines,
don't it, Litton?

Regional Crime Squad
actually preventing a robbery

rather than shooting
everyone dead.

Fair's fair, Gene.

I just thought your boys could do
with a little morale boost, is all,

something to aim at.

I can see it's a bad time.

RCS are holding a celebratory do
tomorrow night, if you can make it.

Au revoir.

Right. We've got a juicy murder
and we're gonna nail it today!

Chief culprit is Ted Bannister.
I want him in custody by teatime.

- What, because he spoke first?
- Because he's guilty as sin,

and he's a Commie bastard.

Sorry, it's bollocks.
It's total rubbish.

You're just itching to get your
blood spillage book out, aren't you?

You're making him prime suspect,
based on what, a hunch?

Ray. How many murderers
we banged up in the last two years?

A dozen.

How many times did I know
the killer on first sight?

- All of them.
- Thank you.

Except that old dear
with the squint.

Blimey, that was
a turn up, weren't it?

No.

You what?

Sorry, we have to build up a...

I'm gonna say this, and I know
you're gonna throw things at me,

but we need to build up
a forensic profile. It's...

No way.
This won't get solved in the lab.

I'm pulling forensics out.

Look, think about this logically.

Ted Bannister is twice
the victim's age and clearly unfit.

So you're telling me he could
stroll across a deserted factory floor

and attack Saunders without Saunders
even trying to defend himself.

- You think he's innocent?
- Yes, he is. He's innocent.

- Cobblers.
- Tenner says he did it.

- I'm not playing.
- Tenner and a Party Seven.

If you think I'm gonna reduce
a murder enquiry

to the level
of a playground bet...

Cowardy, cowardy custard,
couldn't cut the mustard.

This is just...

No fight.

No fight?

No fight?

I want this prepped
for mass interviews.

Build a profile
of the mill community.

Who hates who,
who sleeps with who,

you keep a totally open mind
at this juncture.

What, a gang of 'em
all linked in together?

Could be a gang.

Could be a gang of trained eagles.
Could be ninjas for all we know.

No way, boss.
Not ninja style.

Annie.

Blokes at the mill. Cagey lot.

We might get somewhere with
the women. Try get chatty with'em.

All girls together?
Play the solidarity card?

But don't push it. See what happens.
I've squared it with your sergeant.

Under you now, am I?

Thing is, Tyler,

Crime Squad only solve
about three crimes a year.

We, on the other hand,
are always on the go.

This is Dodds.

- Second rate fence, aren't you, Dodds?
- Don't know what you mean.

Plod stopped him for running
a red light. Found these in his boot.

Chalk up another for the boys.
Bang him up, Ray.

This is all very interesting,
but can we stick to the job in hand?

Yes!

Let's go and make mincemeat
of these Bolsheviks.

Right, have I done you lot?

Names then,
one at a flipping time.

- Who's grubby paw is this?
- Alright, alright!

What's your name, love?

Think you've underestimated
the scale of this investigation.

We'll take the bulk
of the statements today

and I'll brief the department
first thing tomorrow morning.

Hang on.
What do you call "first thing"?

I'll also have a resume document
ready at the end of each day.

You're not giving me stuff to read?

Think of it as a back-up
in case you lost your sixth sense.

You like paperwork,
I'll show you paperwork.

Who killed him?

Come on.

Who killed Jimmy Saunders?

A fiver to the one who tells me.

Come on, who killed him?

It was him.

Aye, alright then, I did it.

And this bugger my accomplice.

Thanks for your help.
Take these men into custody.

You're joking!

I never joke
about a confession, sir!

Now, this is not a game!

Jimmy Saunders was brutally
hacked to death last night,

and the killer might well be
standing in this room.

In fact, you know you are.

Mill's dying.
We could all be out anytime.

But at least we're sticking together.
Triple shifts?

Saunders was like
management's dancing bear.

I don't know nothing.
I don't see nothing or hear nothing.

He used to call us mugs.
Said we couldn't see the future.

He didn't give a threepenny bit
what hours he did.

Ted was right to lay one on him.

I wasn't even there.
It was Derek.

There was a fight
in the pub last night.

Dad had a set-to
with Saunders, so?

He were always scrapping.

Saunders had to make
the eight o'clock shift.

He left, me and me dad sunk
a few more, then I left about tennish.

- Your dad hated him.
- Everyone hated him.

Dad always said
there's two types of enemy.

The ones above you,
management and government.

The one to fear is
the other kind:

the enemy
within your own ranks.

Why bother?
Textiles is doomed.

What's the point of fighting it?

Sometimes the fight's the thing.
Without it, you go under.

You're Father of the Union Chapel.

Saunders was a scab.
You hated him.

I've never denied it.

Do you deny having a bellyful of air and
then attacking him in a pub last night?

I didn't attack him,
we came to blows, together.

Did you threaten to kill him?

"You're dead, pal."
My exact words.

How many times
have you heard people say that?

It's been said by men
who've toddled off and done just that.

Killed someone.

- What time'd you leave the pub?
- Just before eleven. I went home.

Are you a fit man, Ted?

I boxed in my prime,
but my prime's way back.

I hear Saunders used to go
running up on the moor.

- Do you do much running?
- What do you think?

- Bloody hell.
- Several wounds.

One to the left shoulder, one to
the chest and two to the right arm.

Have you estimated time of death
from blood temperature?

Sorry.
Pathologist's at a wedding.

It shouldn't pose a problem.

Air temperature's was pretty
consistent in there, weren't it?

Oh, that's pretty.

You should send that
to the gallery on VisionArt.

They can't promise to return it,

but they do give a prize
to all those they show.

The way this is sprayed suggests
an attack carried out at speed.

The size of cut
suggests a long blade.

Like one of them machetes
the coloureds use?

Ray, can we please call them
the "immigrant workforce"?

Who, the coloureds?

There's a lot of Sheiks
in that mill.

Well, they carry ceremonial daggers
and all that, don't they?

Some bloke could
keep it in his locker.

Bannister gets his hands on it,
Bob's your uncle.

Could we put together
a forensic profile

before you start expanding on
this gripping novel any further, guv?

- We're gonna carry out a fingertip...
- Turn the place over, Ray.

Dig holes.
I want to see a lot of holes.

Talk to the Sheik boys.
Anyone lost a dagger?

- Find me that blade, Ray.
- Consider it done.

What about me, guv?

Make DI Tyler
a potato print.

- I'll go then.
- Hang on.

We'll go through
the night shift statements.

But they get to look
for a big knife!

Anyone can run around
like an 'eadless chicken,

but nothing beats the satisfaction
of a thorough investigative process!

Alright, come on.

Snap out of it!

Motivational speaking now, okay?

We will get results! Say it.

We're winners!

Now roar like lions!

That was a joke, that,
you don't have to do that bit.

Bingo. Got one.

Martin Ellis, lorry driver.

He was waiting for a fabrics pickup
at 2:30 this morning.

Spotted "a thickset man
running out of the loomhall".

Chris. Have you ever seen anybody
who looks like that?

Best we could do.

It's a doddle then. We're looking for
someone with hamster's cheeks,

a nose like Audrey Hepburn
and two foot of forehead.

These are the body parts
they give us.

Is there anybody in this station
that can draw?

What about PC Mallows?

Oh yeah, he does cartoons
of people at the Christmas party!

Okay.
Get Mallows and Ellis together.

Where are you going?

I'm gonna go and check
that the guv...

isn't planting a dagger
in Bannister's locker.

Can I ask you something, boss?

Why do you do it?

Why do you deliberately
get his goat?

I need to fight, Chris.

Annie.

I'll just be a minute, girls.
He's lost his voice.

Got any gum? My mouth
tastes like a pub ashtray.

Excuse me.

Why would anyone turn
a factory into a block of flats?

It's supposed to look nice.

Factories should be factories.
Houses should be houses.

I mean, things are built
for a purpose. It's ridiculous.

What would them fellas say
if you told them?

Look at this! Guv! No!

Here he comes, smile.

At least keep all the activity
to the sides!

Trampling over everything
like an 'erd of elephants here!

Why's it so damp here?

What are you doing now?
Listening for Indian drums?

There, look.

Yeah, I can see it.

Machine oil.

Stops moisture drying
on the floor.

- This blood's still fresh.
- Hey! How did we miss this?!

It's 'cause you let
forensics go too soon.

Calico. Soak up the prints.
There's loads of it over there.

Looks like a size eight, I'd say.

What's that marking?

Annie, radio the station, tell them
to hold anybody not yet processed.

We need shoes sizes.

Look at you, eh.
Proper little CID girl.

There's wet patches all over.

The killer's obviously tried
to cover his tracks,

but he's missed a bit. See?

Gay-boy science has its place.

Here, boss. Check this out.

Why are we looking
at drawings of...

Ted Bannister?

ID from the witness.

You see?
Radar's really wrong.

Done and dusted
by pub opening.

What's going on here?

- Hey! What're you doing?
- Get off him!

What are you doing?
Get off me!

- Get off him!
- Same marking.

Right. I'm arresting you
for murder, Bannister.

Leave him alone,
I'm begging you!

We're looking for a large blade.
Turn the place over.

You can't just
come in here like...

Shut up and
we'll start again, shall we?

What's going on?

That is lovely.

Come on!

- Keep the kids inside.
- Get out!

Dad!

What's going on?
He hasn't done anything!

Get off me, you bastard!

If he's innocent, there's nothing
to worry about, is there?

Just a few lazy coppers
looking for an easy collar!

Easy now, son.

Say sorry.

Say sorry to the man, Derek.

Sorry.

Good.
Now say "Sorry my dad's scum".

Come on, guv.

Sorry my dad's scum.

"Thanks for getting him
off the street."

Thanks for getting him
off the street.

We're dead grateful.

I'll get that tenner off you later.

It's not over yet.

Mad gallop for the finish, is it?

You wanna watch
yourself, Sammy-boy.

I play it rough.

I was told to move this on to DI Tyler
and unless you want a thick ear...

We're in the middle
of a murder enquiry...

I'm not in mood for this.
I've got rotten trapped wind!

What's going on?

I was told to give you the
arresting constable's statements

in connection with Eric Dodds.

The bloke with
the shooters in his boot.

Guv thought you might like
something else to keep you busy.

Is it a problem, boss?

Chris. Get a list of Dodds' regular
suppliers and accomplices.

But we're in the middle
of something.

I'm gonna say two words to you
and they will change your life

and put you on the fast track
to Inspector: Multi. Tasking.

- What you doing?
- Get the guv.

- Interview conducted...
- Is that legal?

Trust me, it's better
than writing it down.

Interview conducted
Wednesday 16th of March.

Present in the room:

Detective Inspector Tyler,
Detective Constable Skelton.

The time, Chris?

- Fourish.
- Precise time.

Just after four.
Five, er... ten past.

4:07.

- It's closer to ten past.
- Thank you, DC Skelton.

Buggeration! One at home always
chews up me girlfriend's Elton John.

DCI Hunt has just
entered the room.

DC Skelton concurs.

Blood on your boot.

The same boot that left a print
at the murder scene.

I stood in some blood.
So what?

Look, these things play out
the same way so often,

it just gets boring.

You hated Saunders
'cause he was a scab.

You got tanked up, you had a fight
and threatened to kill him.

You went to the mill and
carried out a frenzied attack.

Always sounds good
in the papers, that, doesn't it?

"A frenzied attack".

But, on the plus side,

I'm up ten quid
and a Party Seven.

You left the pub just before 11 p.m.,
then you went home.

Can anyone verify that?

Ted? It's really stacking up
against you here, mate.

You've gotta give me something.

The immigrants, they knuckle under.
They do the triples.

Fair enough, they're grateful.

But Saunders, he betrayed us.
He broke ranks.

The enemy within.

The future's desperate for us.

The whole community could go down
if the mill closes and there's a chance.

But I believe if we stick together,
we've got a chance an' all.

There's hope,

hope that Crester's could go on for
another 20, 30, 40 years from now.

But we need to fight
shoulder to shoulder.

- You make it sound like a war.
- Yeah, well, maybe it is.

- Worth fighting for.
- Worth dying for.

Worth killing for?

How did you kill him,
by the way?

I told you, I went home.

Liar.

Liar!

I want to see some sort of lawyer.

- A liar?
- A lawyer!

Do you want
a glass of water?

You know you were eyeballed
running away from the mill

around the time of the murder?
And that's not all.

Under the boards
in your garden shed.

Say goodnight, Gracie and
sit down. I said sit down!

You've got to open the mill,
we can't afford to lose this order.

The mill stays shut
until our enquiry is over.

- For God's sake!
- Sit down or I'll sit you down!

Now!

What?

I did it. I killed him.

Like he said, I was drunk.

- How did it happen?
- Went for him.

- What with?
- A knife!

What did you do with it?

I threw it in the canal.

- But not the bloodied shirt.
- That's right.

So where should we
be trawling, Ted?

Whereabouts in the canal
did you throw it?

I told you! I did it!

Okay, so you got rid of the knife,
but not the bloodied shirt.

- That's right.
- Now, before you go any further,

I want you to seriously think
about what you're saying.

I want you to think
about your family.

I am.

I'll sign your statement,
your confession, whatever it is.

Just bring me a pen.

Fountain or biro?

I tell you what, boss.

These tape machines
have come in dead handy.

Get some cups, Raymondo,
and a couple of screwdrivers.

Let's get this one cracked.

Cheers, guv!

Lytts, do me a favour.

Run this shirt down to forensics.

See if it's a match
for the victim's blood.

Right, boss.

Pity.

All those fancy ways,
and you still can't admit...

Evidence isn't conclusive.
The confession isn't sound.

He was fuzzy about
the details of the killing

and about what he did
with the murder weapon.

And I don't believe his psych profile
would fit that of a killer.

So...

The bet stands.

I know that smell!

What the hell are you playing at,
Litton? Dodds is ours!

Stolen shotguns fall
under Crime's jurisprudence.

That's a big word,
can you spell it?

Why didn't you call me?

DI Tyler's handling
this one personally.

Alright then, Inspector.
Cat got your tongue?

You know
the guns are fake, don't you?

- Yeah, 'course you do.
- Sorry, what? Fake?

Yeah.
They're wooden guns. Toys.

Toys?!

I agree that
departmental protocol suggests

we hand the case over to RCS...

in as much as the evidence
thus far obtained,

however diluted from
its original perceived significance,

would indeed benefit from...

investment by a police body
more experienced and equipped

to process it through to court.

Yeah, I was gonna say that.

You could have told me this sooner.

Is that Blue Stratos?

Paco Rabanne.

That was better than the telly.

The bet stands, until the bloods
are back, on Ted's shirt.

And you, Dodds,
have got some talking to do.

You said they were fakes.

Access through the carpark.
Bogs are outside.

Hey, I've got better things to do,
you know.

So've I. You'd better not be
yanking our chain here, Dodds.

The pick-up's
in the cafe toilets, yeah?

Don't worry, Mr Tyler.
It was all arranged.

It better have been,
or I'll hand you over to DCI Hunt,

who will put you on remand for the first
unsolved crime he has on his books.

Which in this case, happens to be
multiple burglary, with menaces.

Now, you don't know
who the guns are for?

I swear I don't.
All I do is drop-off.

They're blag-slags.
No previous form.

Okay. You drop the bag,
pick up the money.

We'll move in when they pick up.
I'll tag you.

Give me a police radio.

Come on!

Police!

Is my name Coco?

What?

Why are you trying to
make me look like a clown?

Litton's gonna have a field day
when he finds out

you out let four untraceable
shooters out there.

This isn't about Litton.

And don't blame me for this.
You dumped it on me.

You said you could multi...
storey, task, whatever.

Can we just focus on
what's really important?

- Yeah, the bet.
- No, Ted Bannister!

We're still waiting for the blood
match results and time of death.

What is your problem, Sam?

My problem would rock your world.

I'm not giving up on this one.
I'm gonna fight it.

Ted Bannister is not our killer.

I'll show you Ted Bannister.

You hungry?

Well, I told them not to feed you,
you murdering swine.

Get in here and say that!
Get in here! Come on!

You saw him. Is he guilty?

He's locked up. He's scared.

Snap decision.
Guilty, yes or no?

It doesn't work like that.

Have you ever been somewhere,

and you just know
it's about to kick off?

That's primeval.

When you first saw Bannister...

I thought he was hiding something.
But I've talked to the man.

Your clocks on it was wrong. That's why
you're a copper and not a train driver.

Sometimes the job is this.

And all your fancy science
and tape machines...

useless without it.

- I'm not giving up.
- Yeah?

Well, if you want to
take me on and win,

you're going to have
to do better than this.

'Cause everything's pointing towards
Gene Genie getting his beer.

These are all the informal statements
from the factory girls.

Nice girls actually.

Got any Satchawan chicken?

I got a meal B.

I love making tapes.
Lose all Saturday night doing that.

Lose a whole statement if you rely
on this lot to write it down for you.

At least you got a result.

No.

Your gut feeling
tells you otherwise?

It's not a gut feeling, Annie.

His confession was all wrong.

When I mentioned "family",

I saw the look of fear in his eyes,
and it was real fear.

But not for himself.

Here you go. Tina Reed.

Derek Bannister's girl.
She's carrying his baby.

She was shaking like a leaf today.
Broken nails...

She was definitely scared.

What if...

Ted is confessing...

to protect somebody?

And what if Tina is scared...

because she's covering up for somebody?

Who have they both got in common?

You're gonna nick Derek Bannister?

No, I'm not gonna nick him.
I'm gonna bring him in.

If Ted is covering for Derek,

I reckon I can force the truth
out of both of them.

Little psychology, Annie.
Right up your street.

Go to Tina's house.
Bring her in.

Don't tell her why.

Paul, Sarah.

Come on,
we'll finish this later.

- I need your help.
- I don't see why.

You've got me dad in prison
and me mum upset.

You're doing fine on your own.

Your dad's still at the station.

He's terrified
the mill's never gonna open.

If Crester's goes to the wall,
that'll be 800 blokes chasing 20 jobs.

I just want the truth
to come out, Derek.

The truth is, my dad believes
if we stick together like...

some cotton army,
then the factory'll be saved.

You seem smart, Derek.

Yeah? Three O Levels.
Makes me a genius.

I'm smart enough to know
when my kiddy comes along,

there's no one on this earth I'd trust
to put food in his mouth but me.

He'll have a future.

And he won't be kidding
himself like me dad.

- And he won't be afraid.
- What, like you're afraid?

What's he doing here?

- Go home, son.
- Why are you doing this to us, Dad?

- Take him home!
- Everyone knows you didn't do it!

- Yeah, well, I did.
- You know that's rubbish, Dad,

- they'll throw away the key!
- Why'd you bring him here?

Come on, Derek, talk to your dad.
Get if off your chest.

- What's happening at Crester's?
- The coppers won't open it.

But you've gotta do,
you've got your man!

- Have we? Have we, Derek?
- What about the wages?

That's a week's wages
for the whole of the factory!

No one can get at 'em.
Dad, tell me what to do!

There's nothing you can do.

There's something you can both do.
Tell the truth.

Dad?

- I killed him.
- No!

Yes! I had no choice!

Oh, God.

You know
why you're here, Tina.

Look, if I'd'a known what I know now,
it'd be different, I swear.

I've got a baby
to think of, haven't I?

And you can't blame us,
because we had no choice.

It's not even happening now.
It's not.

- Can I smoke?
- Yes, you can smoke.

- Just tell me...
- Forensics!

Love it!
Always loved it!

He's here as well now,
look, I was told nothing...

We're in the middle
of something here, guv.

The blood match from Ted's shirt.
It's Saunders'. Every little drop.

You're joking.

...the back, to pick up the bag,
I've always been thin like Twiggy,

well, not exactly
as thin as Twiggy...

No one can touch
the Gene Genie.

That's all I know, that's where
it ends, end of story.

Get her out of here, Cartwright,
she's using up my oxygen.

- Tina, love...
- End of story.

Yeah. End of story.
I'm taking you home.

What, that's it? I can go?

He said you can go.

- I'm not in trouble?
- No, you're not in trouble.

You got some lonely shape,
my brudder.

Why so?

It's over, Nelson.

I'm fighting to stay strong,
but I feel like I'm losing.

You're strong. No doubt.

But you got to pick your fights,
mon brave.

Who you fighting? Mr Hunt?

He really your enemy?

I don't know.

You're fighting cos you're scared.

Maybe fear is enemy.

It's not over for you, Sam.

- What do you want?
- I told you.

I'm your only friend.
I'm here to help.

Do you feel helpless?

- Yeah.
- Unappreciated?

- That's a big word for a little girl.
- Scared?

Scared...

I'll stop fighting.

If I stop fighting,
then I'm scared I'll die.

You poor thing.

- What can I do?
- Give up.

Lie down.

Close your eyes. And sleep.

And sleep.
No more nastiness.

Just sleep.

Just sleep. Forever.

Sleep.

No!

Time of death.
Tea, one sugar. Bourbons.

See? Multitasking.

- Hand it over.
- Here you go.

The report, Chris.

Shit!

Ted Bannister left the pub
at ten to eleven.

Derek left at ten.

Saunders was murdered
before nine.

Which means...

both Ted and Derek were still
in the pub drinking when it happened.

Who the hell killed him, then?

Look, we know you didn't do it!

I've told you, you've got it wrong,
I've signed a confession!

Well, we're all at sea here,
because this is making zero sense!

Now, you'd better start
helping us out!

Start talking,
cos I'm thirsty.

Yeah, well,
I've told you! I did it!

What are we looking for?

The bloods on that shirt
carried oil traces.

Well, it's a work shirt.

You didn't read
the forensic report, you, did you?

There was oil in Saunders' wounds.

There's oil everywhere.
It's a factory.

Hang on, this is the loom
he was using when he died.

- No, this oil is a red herring.
- Hang on, I've got a feeling.

Oh, so it's alright for you
to have feelings, is it, Gladys?

- What's wrong with this machine?
- I dunno.

It's the wrong colour.
It's giving you a shifty look.

Mr Coynes... there's no dirt,
or oil, on this belt.

It's a brand new belt. It's not dirty
because it hasn't been used as yet.

But it was being used.

By Saunders,
the night he died.

So, that means somebody has
replaced the belt, after his death.

- Bloody hell.
- Yeah, well, you lost me.

Why would somebody
replace this belt?

They can snap.

And what happens
when they snap?

Jimmy Saunders wasn't murdered.

This belt drives
the drums behind me.

Two inch wide leather,
at tension,

running at high speed,
and bound with staples.

Now, these belts,
they can wear down, shear.

The belt snapped,

flew out the loom, like a whip,
straight at Saunders.

Chris, can you step up please?

Now, he saw it coming.
Nothing he could do about it.

The wounds...

...were here, here and here.

Four separate wounds, right?

Chris, put your arms up,
try to defend yourself.

Without the Boris Karloffs.

See, if you line the wounds up,
they form a single straight line,

right across the body,
and around the shoulder.

Hang about, Sherlock.

We've got an ID of Ted
leaving the scene.

So you went to the factory
to have it out with him.

To finish what you'd started.

He was dead.

- I panicked.
- You tried to clean up.

You replaced the drive belt
with a new one from stores.

Why do that?

If it got out,
it'd be a death knell for the factory.

Dodgy floor joist
can close a mill.

What's a fatal accident
going to do to us?

It took you a long time
to clear up, though, didn't it?

Half two by the time you left.

You were spotted by Martin Ellis,
truck driver.

You'd do that, just so
they could keep their jobs.

Just for the chance
they could keep their jobs.

Sorry.

Why?

Right, get out of my station,
get out of my sight.

I should bang you up
for just wasting my time.

It doesn't matter.
Only my family matters.

It's good though.

Nobody goes down for life.

Community goes down for life.

You don't know that for sure.

We were going for that drink.

Sorry.

Got to finish the report.

But that's when
they asked us to do it.

That's where it ends,
that's all I know, end of story.

Ray.

I was told nothing.

Go through the back,
pick up the bag.

I've always been thin like Twiggy,
well, not exactly as thin as Twiggy...

She didn't half go on, that one.

Hang on a minute.

I was told nothing.

Go through the back, pick up
the bag. I've always been thin...

"Go through the back
and pick up the bag".

Meaning?

Outside toilet.

I picked up the guns.

But Derek wasn't gonna use 'em.

Not even with no one at the mill.

Ted says you've gotta fight.

Does he know?

Ted? 'Course not.

It's a wages job.

Alright, love.
We're picking up your boyfriend,

and I need the addresses
of the other blokes involved.

They're not there.

The factory's gonna
open tomorrow, innit?

They're doing the job tonight.

Right. Dirty Harry.

We should call
Litton and the RCS.

Okay. Then we can call the Mayor
and he can give 'em another award.

Look, I haven't done
target range for a while.

It's okay. Blokes are a lot easier
to hit than paper targets.

You want it or not?

Probably end up
turning it on us.

Yeah, but can you hit anything?

You should see
my Playstation scores.

Drop your weapons!
You are surrounded by armed bastards!

Up yours!

Put it down!

Police! Stay where you are,
where I can see you!

Drop it, laughing boy!

Get away!

- Drop it.
- Shoot!

You know you want to,
so drop it.

I'm on him!

Derek.

Think about it.

- Put the gun on the floor.
- I can't do that.

Yes you can.

You've got a baby
on the way, mate.

That's why I'm doing it.

I'm the only one who can,
you know that.

It's a war.

Now, drop the gun.

Put it down.

Last warning.

You can't hit me
'fore I hit him.

For God's sake,
don't throw him down a wager.

Your turn.

"I'm sorry I'm scum."
Say it.

Sorry, son.

- Doesn't work that way.
- Say it!

Come on, Derek.

Is this really the best life plan
you could come up with?

- Stealing from your own?
- Or what?

Meant to stand shoulder
to shoulder with them?

Your dad was willing
to give up everything

to stop this place from closing.

He didn't want to kill anybody.
He wanted to save everyone.

Look, I know
how you're feeling.

You feel like the walls
are closing in on you

and you're trapped and terrified
of what's waiting for you out there.

You see, Derek? You think you got
problems, I have to work with him!

- Shut up!
- Derek.

It's not fair!

Now listen to me.

You're looking at...
first offence - five years.

Now... I'm gonna
pick up my gun,

and I want you to put yours down.
- Uh, Sam, no.

Alright, Derek?

Chris, Ray, ambulance!
Now, quick!

You okay?

See, I told you.

I'll do you a deal.

I'll listen to your little tape machine,
now and again,

okay, so long as you,
just sometimes, listen to this.

'kay?

He was quite badly injured.

And, Ted...
he's under arrest.

You alright, son?

Dad. I was scared.

I couldn't see a future for us.

But you could've come to me.

It was down to me.

I had to fight.

Oh, you stupid boy.

I mean, you've got your workmates,
your mam and dad, your family.

You're not on your own.
Nobody is.

Not unless you want to be.

He's right, what he said.

It is a war.

At least I know
what I'm fighting for.

You want a drink, Litton?

'Fraid we haven't got
any Babycham.

You knew those shooters
were the real deal.

Bloody hell,
you really are a detective.

That's very good.

Now, when are you gonna get it
into your thick skulls

that armed blags are mine?

Do you mind? I nearly had
my brains blown out tonight!

Would you have noticed?

If you were going for heavy blood loss,
Gene, should have shot you in the gut.

Hey. Mr Litton,

I think you'd better
swallow it down. We had a result.

One nil.

Right, the chosen vintage of the CID.

What are you thinking,
dare she ask?

I've been thinking...

about what's important.

Oi, Romeo.

We gonna open
this bogwater or what?

You open it.

No, I can't. It needs two.

- Eh up, here we go.
- Go on then.