All language subtitles for unforgotten.s05e06.720p.web-dl.h264-w4nt0ks

Are we saying
that we think this was Hume?

Worst case, maybe three months.

Which is not enough.
Gatwick?

They said you were
a person of interest in a murder.

'If you could present yourself
at Bishop Street.'

Help! Help!
Armed police!

I'm not Joseph Bell.
I'm Joe's half-brother.

I need a break.

I'm sorry, my love.
Steve, are you in there?

The first company that Hume
worked for was the same company

that Ebele Falade walked into
with an air pistol.

She was shouting,

"I wanna speak to my dad,
Tony bloody Hume."

Did the caller say
who the body was?

A young man named Joseph Bell.

'All We Do' by Oh Wonder

♪ All we do is hide away

♪ All we do is
All we do is hide away

♪ All we do is lie in wait

♪ All we do is
All we do is lie in wait

♪ I've been upside down

♪ I don't want to be
The right way round

♪ Can't find paradise
On the ground. ♪

And it is male?

Looking at the brow ridge,
the mastoid process, I'd say yes.

And young.
Anything else jumping out?

Aside from the two bullet-shaped
holes in his skull? Apart from them.

Not yet.
This level of decomposition,

might that suggest how long
he's been here for, roughly?

If you mean could it
have been around the same time

as Precious Falade was killed,
then, yes, it's not inconsistent.

OK. Thanks, Leanne.

DNA sample as soon as soon as,
please.

So, we need to speak
to the letting agency,

get a list of everyone who's lived
here over the last ten years. Boss.

And Anthony Hume...

what have we not yet done
to place him

at the scene of Precious's murder?

If he was there.
He was there.

All suggestions gratefully received.

I'll message the team.

Anthony Hume?

Yes?

So...

Wojski takes 2K out of his savings

on the 27th, in cash,

puts them right back in
on the 28th.

So, what did he do
to get his laptop back,

without handing any money over?

Exactly.

We have nothing to say to you.

So whichever tawdry rag
your working for,

you're wasting your time.

I'm his daughter.

What kind of messed up power game
is this, Steve?

It's no power game.
I just want to talk.

So we do it on the phone.
You don't just turn up here.

You left this house, remember?
I'm sorry.

And FYI, any phone call's
going to be relatively brief,

on account of the fact
you screwed my sister.

Except I didn't.
What?

I did kiss her, once.

Which itself is unforgivable,
I know, but...

..we never slept together.
It was more of an emotional thing.

So, my sister is telling me a lie
that makes her look worse?

Your sister has a lot of issues.
I think we know this.

Look, Jess, I messed up, massively,
and I'm incredibly sorry for that.

But I felt that you'd abandoned me,
and I wanted you to hurt like I did,

which is why I said
I wanted to leave.

But now I've calmed down a bit,
and...

..I know I don't.

I don't think I believe a word
you just said.

Jess, please,
I swear it's the truth.

Jess! Can we at least talk tonight?

I found out on my 18th birthday
and contacted him when I was 23.

I'm now 59.

And what sort of a relationship
have you had with him in that time?

In the multiple decades
he's lied to you, you mean?

Yes.
Almost entirely financial.

He's given you money?
Reparation.

Yes. So can I ask what it is
you came here for?

Well, obviously to see him.

There were things
that I wanted to say

before it became impossible.

But I can see
that I am already too late,

so maybe you can pass on a message.

Can you tell him, please...

..that I loathe him?

That I have always loathed him.

And I always will.
Right.

But for all your loathing,
you still obviously took his money.

And there we are.

You screwed multiple generations
of my family over,

and then think it's OK
because I got some money?

I didn't screw any one over.

Maybe not... as directly as him.

But your privilege,
your comfort, your happiness,

this house, in fact,

were all built on the bones
of people like me.

Weren't they?
I'd like you to leave now, please.

You knew what he did, didn't you?

You knew the policies
that he espoused for decades.

You knew the millions of lives
that it ruined.

Mine included.

And you did nothing.

You just looked the other way.

So I didn't really come
to speak to you.

But now I'm here...

fuck you, too.

I loathe the pair of you.

So, what I really need is a list
of all of the ground-floor tenants

from the past ten years.

Now, I realise
that might take a while,

so can you start by telling me

who the tenant was
in July 2016, please?

And that was from when to when?

OK. A list of other tenants
would be very useful.

You've been very helpful.

Thank you very much.
Yes! Thank you, God.

So, the tenant of the garden flat
from May 2015 to August 2016

was Ebele Falade.

'The body,
discovered buried in the garden

'of a flat in Greenford,

'is believed to be connected
to the recent discovery of remains

'found in a house in Hammersmith.'

'Police investigators
on the scene...'

Local authorities
were dealing with huge cuts,

and we were all basically
doing the jobs of two people.

So you were perma exhausted.

Multiple 12-hour days,

and from dealing, day in, day out,
with people who had been...

abandoned.

People who were angry
and in constant crisis.

People who blamed you.

And over a sustained period,
that really began to take its toll.

I was living on my own
at this point,

and I'd started to feel
very isolated, very low.

And I-I just started to fixate
on some...

..on some really bad thoughts.

About women and...

taking certain sorts of photos...

of them...

..in public.

And then in late 2015,
I was attacked on the street.

And then in February 2016,
outside my synagogue.

And it was about a week
after the second attack

that I took my first photo.

On the tube.
You think the two are connected?

No.

Well, maybe. I don't know.

I'm certainly not trying
to offer it up as an excuse.

I'm just saying, you grow up
being made to feel different.

When we first moved to UK,
all through school

then actually being physically
attacked for being different.

And it can affect you.

Make you do bad shit.

And these photos, they...

..made you feel, what, better or...?

In the moment, maybe, but...

..in the long term,
they made me feel much worse.

But you carried on taking them,
Karol.

Eventually even taking them at work.

Yeah.
Why?

Why do any of us do things
we know are wrong?

Because that momentary relief
is better than nothing.

I'd like, if I may, to take you back
to the 26th of June 2016.

Er, which was the day
that you visited Precious Falade

in a house in Hammersmith.

And it was also the last time
you ever saw her,

according to your statement
when we spoke in Paris. Yeah.

And was this also the day that you
accidentally left your laptop there?

You should assume
we know everything, Karol.

Yeah.
And on that laptop,

she found a number
of your upskirting photos

and tried to blackmail you for them.

Yeah.
For £2,000?

Yeah.

Showing the suspect exhibit KW01,

a bank statement belonging to him.

And if you have a look at the
highlighted entries there, Karol,

you can see that you did in fact

withdraw 2,000, in cash,
on the 27th.

But then, just below that entry,

you deposited the exact same amount
again in cash

into the same account on the 28th.

Which suggests to me
that you never paid her the money.

I didn't.

So, could you tell us, then, please,

how you did manage
to get your laptop back?

Can I, erm... drop these off
for a patient, please?

What ward?
Erm...

I dunno,
but her name's Sophie Coulson.

She hit her head and...

Just tell her I'm sorry, yeah?

The first thing I noticed
as I walked up the drive way

was that there was a car
parked up outside.

OK, and this was the day after
you say you last saw her?

Yeah.
So, you went in?

Yeah.
And what happened then?

Well, I couldn't see anyone,
so I called out her name.

No-one answered,
so I walked straight ahead

into the sitting room,
where we'd met the day before.

The floor was wet.

Like, all over.

Like someone had just mopped it.
But no Precious.

And then in the corner,
I saw my laptop on the table.

This was my property, you know?

So I walked over and took it
and then left.

It was as I was heading
for the front door that I saw him.

An old man
at the end of the corridor,

with a mop and bucket.

Did you speak to him?

I called out, "Hello,"
and he turned, clearly surprised.

I introduced myself and told him
that I'd come to see Precious.

He quickly said that she was out

and that he'd tell her
that I'd come over. Anything else?

He'd asked if I'd been
into the main room to look for her.

I said no and then left.

Could you describe him?

Late 60s, early 70s.

Well-spoken.
OK.

Erm... So, the day after this,
you resigned.

And then three weeks later,
you left the country for good.

I assumed that she'd have downloaded
the images elsewhere

and would continue to extort me.

I felt my life in England was over.

Listen...

..you'd be hard-pressed
to find a man who hated himself

more than me for what I did do.

All the women I abused
by taking those photos.

I hope I've become a better person,

but I'm also fully aware
that I may well be kidding myself

that I only did it
because I was depressed or lonely.

I mean, maybe I actually did it
because I'm a fucked-up human being.

I genuinely don't know
the answer to that.

But one thing I am sure of...

I never saw Precious Falade
after the 26th,

and I never hurt her.

DNA tests confirm that Jay Royce

is indeed the child
of Precious Falade and Eric Royce,

and the body in the garden

is the child of Precious Falade
and David Bell.

Joseph Bell.
Mm-hm.

Ebele never mentioned
she had a second grandchild.

Do we think it's possible
she didn't know?

I think it's perfectly possible.
The boy was invisible.

Off the radar of social services,
the education system.

The real question is,
what does he know?

Indeed.
OK.

Murray, what have you got for us?

Forensics have confirmed
that a bullet

found in the wall at Waterman Road

was fired from the same gun
as the one that killed Precious.

Yeah. Not a surprise. Excellent.

Anything else?
Yeah.

You wanted to try and place Hume
at the murder scene on the 26th.

I mean, my name was on the contract,
but he paid the actual rent,

so he absolutely knew
where the flat was.

He probably had keys.
Who did?

And the day after it all happened,

he paid for me to go away
for a few days.

He sent me away to bloody Cornwall,
Dave! Calm down, Bele. Who did?

My father! He put Joe there.

I thought you never knew
your father.

Bele?

Bele?!

Did you kill your granddaughter,
Mr Hume?

I don't have a granddaughter.
I have three grandsons.

I'm talking about Precious Falade.

What evidence do you have
that Precious Falade

is Mr Hume's granddaughter?

We can do DNA checks in time,
but, for now,

I think his daughter Ebele Falade
will confirm this.

And if he denies Ebele
is his daughter,

well, then I'd simply ask
why he's been paying her money

via standing order
for the past 30-something years.

No, I didn't kill her.

Did you kill your great-grandson,
Joseph Bell?

No, of course not.

Were you with either of them
the night they died?

No.

Or at or near 64 Waterman Road,
on the 26th and 27th of June, 2016?

No. And when was the last time
you saw either of them?

I've never even met either of them.

I'm showing the suspect
exhibit TH01 -

a copy of a credit card statement
belonging to Mr Hume.

Mr Hume, could you read out
the fifth credit down, please?

It's a payment
to an Esso filling station for £60.

26th of June, 2016.

Thank you. And the address
of the petrol station?

Inverdale Road.
Postcode?

W67CX

Which is, in case you don't know,
Hammersmith,

and Inverdale Road is the road
at the bottom of Waterman Road.

And, er, do you see a time
for the payment there?

19:23.

So just before half seven,
on the night that Precious died,

we now have you
no more than 100 yards

from the house in which she died.

Is there anything you'd like to add?
No comment.

So, erm, the day after this,
the 27th of June,

we also have a witness
who says they saw you

with a bucket and mop

near a room shown by forensics
to have been spattered with blood,

which we have since identified
as Precious Falade's.

What witness?

Her social worker.

You refused consent
for a video ID earlier,

so we took a covert ID in custody,

and our witness identified you
very easily, Mr Hume.

What's your response to that?

Lord Hume,
I think the best course is to...

No comment.
Really?!

Because maybe there's a perfectly
innocent explanation as to why,

the day after a murder
was committed in that room,

you were seen in that house,

clearly having just mopped blood
off the floor.

And if there is,
then this is your chance now

to tell us your side of the story.

Or Corfu.

Mike and Liz went there last year
and absolutely loved it.

Said it was the prettiest village.
Water's crystal clear.

They said they'd go back
in a heartbeat.

Hello. You all right, love?

There's something
I need to tell you about.

I'm gonna go and stay with Jordan
for a bit.

He's found a new squat
with hot water.

You need to sort your life out,
J, man.

I only found out about Bele...

..when she was in her early 20s.

The result of a very...

..brief relationship
I'd had with her mother in 1963.

The mother died when Bele was young.

And so as soon as I found out
I had a daughter,

I obviously offered her
financial support,

which she accepted.

There was little further contact,
which was her choice.

I knew that she had
had a daughter herself in the...

in the mid-'80s,

but I had no contact with her
until late 2015

when she called me
out of the blue...

..and also wanted money.

Which, again, willingly,
I-I gave her.

A few weeks before she...

..she died...

I got a call from Bele telling me
that Precious was homeless.

Waterman Road was empty at that time

and, of course,
I wanted to help, so...

I met her...

..to give her some keys
and let her in, and...

The meeting was brief but cordial.

She'd obviously lost her way
in life,

and I felt very sorry for her.

The night she died...

..a man identifying himself
as Precious's son

called me from Waterman Road.

He, er...

He was threatening all sorts
of things, and again, wanted money.

I rang Bele, and...

..she said she'd drive there
immediately.

But, erm...

Well, I-I also decided
to drive there myself.

I got there first.

To find that Joseph,
Precious's son...

..was in a very bad way.

He seemed to be coming down
off something

and was clearly very disturbed,

threatening violence to me
and his mother.

Unless I took him to a cash machine
and got out thousands of pounds.

And then...

..quite without warning, he...

..he pulled out a gun.

Which he proceeded to point at me.

Precious was horrified,
and... and before I could stop her,

she lunged for it, and it...

It went off.

Hitting him in the head.

He fell.

I went to help him, and, er...

..as I was trying to get him
into the recovery position...

..there was another shot.

And I looked around, and Precious
had turned the gun on to herself.

Straight into her chest.

She died pretty instantly.

Joseph's heart stopped
within seconds.

I never even had a chance
to call for help.

And into this...

nightmare walked Bele.

I explained to her
what had happened. I'm...

I'm not sure
she entirely believed me,

even though it was true.

Obviously, we were both in pieces.

And that was how I...

..I ended up saying that I would...

..dispose of Joseph's body.

And how I ended up leaving Bele
with her daughter.

So, you buried Joseph Bell

in the garden of
your daughter's flat in Greenford?

Yes.
And why there specifically?

I had keys.

It was private.
Not for deflection?

To incriminate her
if anything ever went wrong?

No.

So, why did you anonymously call
the front desk of this station

last night
and tell us where his body was?

I panicked.

And did you know that Bele had
hidden Precious in the fireplace?

No.

She told me she'd buried her
in woods somewhere.

So this...

this is the truth now?

Yes.

Because you've lied to us
repeatedly, Lord Hume.

Both times we've questioned you.

This is the truth.

I swear.

We need Ebele Falade.

Come on.
Firstly, we need to clean our teeth.

We need to do our stories.
Time is running out.

Wait. Five, four, three...

His behaviour has been disgraceful,
which he realises.

He loves you, Jess.

And needs you.

And the kids need him.

I don't believe him, Mum.

No, I'm sure you don't,
and it's shite, but...

nothing's perfect.

Not even you.
Hm!

Call you later.
OK.

So, my mum, Yetunde,
was a second-generation Nigerian.

Her parents came over here
after the war,

and she was born in 1946.

And in August 1963, age 17,

she got a job as a cleaner
in the city stockbroker's

where her parents already worked
in the canteen.

The son of one of the directors
was working there in the months

between Wallingham and Cambridge,

and one night,
after drinking with work friends,

he went back to the office late
to pick up some papers

and encountered my mum,
who was working nights.

And after pressuring her
to have a few drinks with him...

..raped her.

She went back home that night
and, of course, told her parents.

Who blamed her.

And she did consider
going to the police, but, er...

in the end, didn't because...

he was the rich, white,
son of the boss.

And... she wasn't.

A few weeks later,
she realised that she was pregnant

and wrote to the son,
who was now at university.

And... he didn't reply,

so she wrote to his father -

Sir Henry Hume...

..who asked her
to come into his office

and told her that
if she pursued this any further,

he'd sack her and her parents.

Morgan Lavelle
had originally made their money

from the sugar trade,

so she really shouldn't
have been so surprised.

And on the 3rd of March, 1964,
I was born.

Three weeks later,
she wrote me a letter

which, erm, was meant to be
given to me on my 18th birthday.

And deposited it
with a local solicitor...

..and...

..jumped in the Thames.

I was raised by my grandparents,
who...

saw me as a child of evil

and filled me with shame
and self-hatred.

And after I read that,
I realised why.

So if he told you
that he was decent about it

when I finally approached him,
then, again, he lied.

He was much more interested
in protecting his reputation

and made a number of threats
of violence against me.

I ignored them,
and I got his DNA from a glass

at a lecture that he did,

and had a test done
and told him that I would go to

the News Of The World
with the result.

That was 1988. Yeah.

After that, he was a pussy cat.

So nothing about him
is what it seems.

And whatever he told you
about that night,

whatever he told me,
won't be what actually happened.

So, why don't you tell us
what you witnessed there?

He called me and said that...

Joseph had called him,
threatening him.

Did Joseph know that
this was his great grandfather?

I had told Precious about Hume
a few months before.

I guess she had then told Joseph.

And why hadn't you told her
about him before then?

Because I knew that she would
mess up the financial arrangement.

Which I needed.

So?
So, erm...

After my father called me,
we both headed to Waterman Road.

And when I arrived, I walked in...

..to a vision from hell.

My daughter was already dead,
and my grandson was dying.

And my father told me
that my daughter had shot her son...

accidentally, and then shot herself.

Did he tell you how that happened?

He said that Joseph had taken drugs,

and that there'd been
some sort of row about money,

and that he'd pointed a gun at Hume,

and that Precious
had tried to get it off him,

and it had gone off, hitting Joe.

And she'd then turned it on herself.

OK. And did you ever question
this version of events?

Oh... No, not in the moment, no.

You know, I was in shock, obviously.

And also, I'd only met Joseph
three or four times,

and I knew that he'd already been in

a young offenders institute
for assault using a gun.

And in that moment,
in the panic and horror,

being told that
by Lord Anthony Hume,

I'm embarrassed to say that I...
I... I believed him.

Do you believe it now?
No. No.

So, what do you think happened?

I don't know.

I just know that he is an evil,
lying bastard,

and he could have done
absolutely anything.

He... Maybe he shot them both.

I don't know.

And the disposal of the bodies?

He told me that
if we called the police...

..they might not believe
it was an accident,

because of... MY criminal record.

He-He wanted to take them both...

..but I said
I wanted to look after Precious.

And I spent the...

..whole night with her,
just holding her,

and rocking her,
and singing to her.

Saying sorry to her.

And then...

And then it was morning.

And...

..I walked out to the car,

and there were workmen
in the street.

I have regretted what I did.

Every single day since.

Because it was a dreadful way
to treat my daughter.

But...

..that was me.

A few weeks later, I took
Precious's keys to get back in

and had some friend
put a plasterboard.

OK, erm...

Just... Just one last question.

Does the name Jay Royce
mean anything to you?

Who's Jay Royce?

Jay?
What d'you want?

Can we talk about that night,
please?

Why? Nothing ever changes.

People like me don't win
against people like him.

I'm so sorry that was yours
and Joseph's experience.

But we're here to tell you...

that if you trust us,
we will change that.

We will listen to you,
and we will act on what you tell us.

But if you stay silent,
then all I can say is, yeah...

..he probably will win again.

I was one floor up.

My mum didn't want me
to meet my nan or him, so...

I was playing on my Game Boy.

I saw Hume arrive in his car
out of a bedroom window.

So... he arrived first?

Good ten minutes before my nan.

I weren't interested
in meeting either of them,

so I was just waiting for them
to leave.

Except then
I started to hear shouting.

Joe mainly, but Mum as well.

Both screaming at Hume, really.

So I walked out onto the landing.

My brother was obviously
off his face,

pointing and jabbing at Hume.

Telling him he was a dirty bastard,

and that he should
fuck him up proper

for what he had done
to our family...

to our nan's mum.

And he's screaming
right in front of him,

and all this spit's
getting in Hume's face.

Then suddenly, Hume's got his hand
round Joe's neck,

and he slammed him
up against a wall.

Said he could have him disappeared
in an instant if he wanted.

Cos he was that fucking powerful.

And he's squeezing Joe's neck.

And squeezing and squeezing,

and I'm thinking
he's gonna choke him.

He's gonna kill him.

Which is when Joe pulls out this gun
from the back of his trousers.

And Hume goes very fucking quiet
very quick.

Starts to back away
with his hands up.

My mum's shitting herself

and telling Joe to put it down,
but he won't.

And he's still shouting back
at both of them.

And then my mum
just makes a grab for it,

and it all goes quiet
as she wrestles with him.

Then there's a bang.

And she goes down.

And Joe's in shock, man,
and not really taking it all in.

My mum's eyes are rolling up
into her fucking head.

And Hume's asking for the gun.

Joe just gives it to him.

Meek as a lamb now.

Then Joe kneels by Mum
to take her hand...

..which is when Hume shoots him.

In the back of the head.

And there was obviously nothing
I could do.

You know, I was 14.

I was also terrified he'd hear me
and he'd kill me.

So I sort of just...

I sort of just froze.

And then I heard my nan's car
arriving,

and she walked in
and just started wailing.

So I used the noise to go upstairs.

To the very top floor and hide
in a cupboard under the eaves.

I stayed there for two whole days.

When I finally came down...

the bodies had gone.

Hume had gone.

The blood had gone.

Some of my mum's things
were still there, like...

Like, her laptop was...
was in the drawer,

and, erm... a few of her clothes,
which I took.

And then I just ran.

We wonder how kids like him
turn out like they do.

Right, let's see what Hume
has to say now.

The lies that we tell ourselves.

That that wasn't rape.

That she liked me.

That I was a good man,
who'd led a good life,

who'd leave good behind.

Best part of my life...

I truly believed that.

Then in one instant...

one look...

..it all fell away.

I saw myself honestly.

I couldn't bear it.

To see who I really was.

The awful truth.

So I...

I snuffed it out.

So you shot Joseph Bell?

Yes. I did.

And I have tried so hard
for the last six years

to make some amends.

But, of course, it was never
even close to being enough.

For that...

..for what I did...

..I am so, so...

..so sorry.

I mean,
I wouldn't give up the day job,

but, er, there's definitely
something there.

You weren't trying to make amends,
Mr Hume.

You just saw the catastrophic effect
of your life's work

and realised that
that's how you'd be remembered.

You were just trying to improve
your Wiki page.

Yeah. We see you.

Well, consider this,
Lord Anthony Hume,

you will only ever be remembered
as a rapist

who murdered his own great-grandson.

That's your fucking legacy, fella.

I hope they throw away the key.

We'll get someone
to take you to your cell.

Are you Jay?
Yes.

Do you know who I am?

I think so.

I'm your nan, Jay.

I'm Bele.

Hello, Nan.

I am so sorry, little one.

I am so, so sorry.

I told them, Nan.

I told them he did it.

I know, sweetheart.

They rang.

So now we know the truth.
Except you don't.

Sorry?
I lied.

Mum killed Joe.

Accidentally,
trying to get the gun off him.

Then shot herself.

But it was all his fault,
what happened to our family.

'From him raping your mum
to everything that come after,

'it was all down to him.

'So I just thought,
"Fuck him," y'know?'

What's good for the goose, man,
innit?

Just... fuck him.

There you are.

Sorry about earlier.

That was, er...
that was a bit unprofessional.

No apology needed.

You took the words
right out of my mouth.

CPS call yet?

Said we can charge him
with the murder and the rape.

Nice!

Wasn't expecting both.

That's a 57-year-old crime,
DCI James.

A Bishop Street record.

Well, for now.

And it's Jessie, please.

Jessie James.

So, you ever held up a stagecoach?
Held up a bar!

Well, now you're talking.
I'll get my horse.