Original subtitles

RADIO IS ON

Morning, Terri! You're up early.

- ..Ta-ra! - See ya.

- Morning, girls. - Morning.

♪ Testator Sile-e-ens

♪ Costestes e Spi-iritu-um

♪ Si-ilentiu-u-um. ♪

We should've buried her in Ireland with Daddy.

We discussed all that.

It wasn't possible.

It's always the same.

We're full of the things we want

and none of them can happen for perfectly good, practical reasons.

Even dead she couldn't have what she wanted!

It was her BODY we buried.

Meaning... that's all there is?

I don't know.

Why not? You're the expert.

She lives IN us.

And Daddy?

He lives in us, too.

As guilt.

No, not just guilt.

Do you remember Daddy would say,

"If anything happens to me, look after your mammy"?

Yes.

I couldn't give her much.

That's not true.

He meant to be a good daughter to her.

You were a good daughter.

POUNDING MUSIC

TYRES SCREECH

- Where is he? - Dunno.

- I'm looking for Kennedy. - Up top, mate.

Kennedy!

- Out the way. - Oi!

Easy!

- Kennedy! - What's up, Kevin?

- I want you. - Kevin, what's wrong?

What's wrong? I'm gonna kill you!

Come on, Kevin, don't be silly. You're a contender, for God's sake!

Come on, I'm an old man.

- You tried to kill him! - This'll ruin you.

- Scared? - You'll lose your licence.

You won't go past me without a fight. Come on!

OK, but not here.

THUMPING INSIDE CONTAINER

MEN SHOUT ENCOURAGEMENT

Come on!

YELL FOLLOWED BY SILENCE

What do you think?

Powder puff punches. It'll be decided on points.

Luckily, the Board doesn't hire me to spot prospects.

I thought you said Superintendent Farmer's replacement would be here.

He's not, unless Reeve has returned to haunt me.

He held the job before Farmer.

- You didn't like him? - He could be tricky.

- No wonder Jenny wouldn't come. - Not many people bring their wives.

Should I be flattered or insulted?

BELL RINGS

WHISTLING

- Disgusting! - He's got to spit it somewhere.

It's only a bit of blood.

Jack Reeve. Sam Ryan. Jack's an official of the Boxing Board.

They're fit. They're not scared of bleeding.

It's the punch in the head I didn't like.

Look. This is what just happened to his brain, Superintendent.

It slopped about inside his skull like soup.

I'm retired. Plain "Jack" will do.

I'm sorry you don't like our sport.

It's not sport.

Oh, leave it out, ref.

Oh, come on, ref!

Paul Taylor is unable to continue.

The winner, in the blue corner, Carlos Rowe!

APPLAUSE

Hello, boys. Everything OK?

He's fine, Mr Jones.

Charlie, I've a good Mexican lined up for you.

- And me? - You've had a fantastic year.

You're going all the way, Kevin. How's the hand?

Fine, great... thanks to you.

I wasn't going to leave you in some National Health shit hole.

Now, you take it easy tonight. Build yourself up slowly.

Good luck, Kevin.

He's fine.

- Will he see me now? - Leave it till after the fight.

- Oh. - I wanna speak to him.

- It's difficult, Terri. - Let her in!

- Where have you been? - Here and there.

- You're supposed to be in training! - I was!

- In secret?! - Not now.

- I'm owed an explanation. - I can't.

- Let's be having you! - We'll talk later. I'll explain.

- Hello? - All right! We're coming!

- ..OK? - It'll HAVE to be.

Sorry I'm late. I was detained at work.

Detective Superintendent Peter Ross. Dr Trevor Stewart.

- Dr Stewart. - Trevor.

Dr Ryan.

- Sam. - Peter.

- Keith Jones, the promoter. - Pleased to meet you.

This would make a good photo... Burgess!

OK, Mr Jones... Can we have you up here, please? Thank you.

SOME time before the next fight We need Trevor in the middle.

"Eminent Doctor Joins Anglian Boxing Board."

Eminent?

- And the pretty lady, please. - Oh, no, thanks.

You'll look gorgeous amongst all those ugly mugs.

- Please, Miss...? - Dr Ryan.

Let's slip you in next to your boyfriend.

I'm not her boyfriend. I'm her partner.

Can you all look over here?

Smile. Another... and one for luck. Thank you.

Are you gonna be first? Eh?

Come on, Kevin, son. Think about this one.

Keep your mind on the job.

CHEERS AND APPLAUSE

- Are you a betting woman, Dr Ryan? - No.

If you were, I'd say put your money on Kevin Sharma.

Have YOU?

Yeah - I put on this event to showcase HIM.

He's the fighter to watch.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the next contest is a light-middleweight bout,

six rounds, three minutes each round.

Introducing in the blue corner from Bradford, Yorkshire, Larry Cotton!

And in the red corner, local man Kevin Sharma!

Did you know I was working here?

Yeah. No-one told you I was coming?

- No. - Sorry.

The police works like a mushroom farm.

How so?

Keep everyone in the dark till you cover them in...

- Manure? - Manure.

Come on, Kevin!

- Where have you been? - In the Met all the time.

Four years at Southeast Crime Squad, two at Serious Crime.

DS to superintendent - you've done well in 12 years, Peter.

Thank you. I've worked hard.

You've acquired a few grey hairs in the process.

They make you look very distinguished.

Ooh!

Yes!

One, two, three...

NOISE IN THE HALL SOUNDS MUFFLED

Move! Move!

One, two, three... Get in here!

Kevin!

Kevin! Kev! Is he going to be all right?

He'll be fine, love.

Kevin, can you hear me?

Wyn!

Wyn?

SOMEONE ENTERS

Why haven't you been answering your phone?

I let myself in.

I leave it there in case Ricky gets locked out.

It's stupid - he's 5,000 miles away!

- A letter from India. - Oh!

"Dear Mum..." At least he spelt that bit right!

- Let's get going. - For?

The solicitor's.

Oh, I forgot. I'll just go and get changed.

Did you know I was a Cambridge blue?

What in?

You've got a customer.

Kevin Sharma, the boxer.

I know who he is.

He died in theatre. It's urgent.

They're always urgent.

Can't do it, Kevin old son.

Conflict of interest, but you wait there - I'll fetch you a pathologist.

- What are you doing for money, Wyn? - I get by.

But until the money from the house sale comes through?

I don't want YOUR money, Sam.

- It could just be a loan. - I'll let you know if I get desperate.

PAGER BEEPS

- Can I use your phone? - What'll we do about the solicitor?

We'll rearrange it. I'm sorry.

How often do you think a pathologist

actually sees the blow which kills his subject?

I'd prefer not to.

Right, Fred, turn him over.

And back.

No obvious injuries apart from the one to the head.

You won't see many bodies in better condition than his.

Except he's not breathing.

They were trying to remove a blood clot in Neurosurgery when he died.

So, the neurosurgeons want to know did THEY kill him or did the boxer?

Let's have a look.

Take some pictures with the bandage ON, Fred.

The body is that of a muscular Asian man

of somewhere between 23 and 28 years of age.

He's about 5ft 8" tall.

Do some when I take it off, OK?

The body shows only one external wound, which is in the scalp.

It's an inverted U-shape incision over the left temporal region.

It's about... 15cm long and has been closed in a continuous suture.

The scalp is shaved

and is stained with what appears to be medical disinfectant.

Thanks.

SAWING COMMENCES

Chairman,

there is something we should discuss which isn't on the agenda.

It's this question of Terence Cross's licence.

Mr Cross has been in a wheelchair for six months

and we must consider his competence to hold a licence.

Terry Cross is a great trainer.

Hear, hear!

- Was. - Is!

There are men in this town

who'd have been in prison if they hadn't met Terry.

Maybe so, but he's training no-one now.

He's permanently disabled.

However unpleasant our duty is, we need to face facts.

We need to consider who's training the boxers.

That person should have the licence.

That person should demonstrate their competence.

People will question the competence of this board to govern OUR sport.

Was Kevin medically examined before he fought?

That's the procedure.

What about brain scans?

It's in the file. He had one a couple of months ago.

It was clear. Why?

This brain isn't normal.

The injuries are old.

I'm stopping this postmortem. Notify the police.

CONVERSATIONS ARE INAUDIBLE

- Mr Reeve, can I buy you a drink? - Why not?

- Hello, Dr Ryan. - DS Speed. How's the family?

- Oh, yeah, fine. Er... - Is it the boxer?

This is DI Selway.

- How do you do? - Rachel.

- Hi. - Hi.

I thought I knew all the DIs.

You're a lot more attractive than Tom Adams.

Should we get on?

This discoloration concerns me.

It's old bleeding from an injury he suffered some time ago.

- What sort? - A haematoma.

It's a collection of blood under the dura,

the membrane that surrounds the brain proper.

It's caused by a shearing force.

If a blow is applied to the outside of the skull, it causes the head to move,

but the brain lags behind.

A violent blow tears the vessels to the brain,

resulting in this bleeding.

He received the injury when?

More than four weeks ago.

You can tell by the development of the fibrous membrane.

It's a boxer's injury?

- Typically. - Well?

It's not NECESSARILY a boxer's injury.

We know Kevin's brain scan was clear after his last fight,

so he must have had a violent blow since - a fall, a car accident?

- When was his last fight? - Two months ago.

Kevin went into the ring with an existing, undetected, brain injury.

He was like a ticking bomb. When he received that extra punch,

- the bleeding began again. - And he died.

- On the evidence so far, yes. - So, this could be a suspicious death.

Superintendent Ross will want to be informed.

Yes.

He says you're familiar with his way of working.

KNOCK AT DOOR Yeah, come in.

- Peter. - How can I help you, Jack?

- This was MY office once. - Yeah, someone said.

Did you know Superintendent Farmer who was here in-between?

- She's at the HMI. - She'll succeed.

- Fastidiousness is valued there. - You didn't like her?

Didn't like her as a DS or a super.

When I joined, women were confined to Domestics and Lost Children.

What do you want, Jack?

Kevin Sharma had a full medical exam before he fought

and he had a brain scan less than two months ago.

Your lady pathologist

reckons Kevin was carrying a head injury when he got in the ring.

Is that all?

There's no question of the Board sending out a boxer with an injury.

- I'll bear it in mind. - Mm-hm.

Roll on, morning! LAUGHTER

Who won the Scottish Cup in 1953?

Name the team - Henderson, McDonald, McCallum...

12 condoms on in case you feel anything!

Oh, God!

KNOCK AT DOOR

- Morning. - What's wrong?

- I thought you'd like to see this. - Couldn't it wait?

- Read the sports page? - No.

Do you want a cup of tea?

"Kevin - latest.

Pathologist says dead boxer's brain was like soup."

I never said that.

Quote: "The trainers bear the responsibility for these young men."

- Oh, really? - Really.

We've had a sheaf of faxes from Terry Cross's gym.

Who's he?

Kevin Sharma's trainer. They think we're out to ruin them.

So? It's newspaper talk. I didn't say any of it.

Cross has threatened to complain to the coroner.

So what?

Selway's going to the gym today. You could legitimately go, too.

Why?

You might find whatever Kevin hit his head on,

and if you bump into Terry Cross,

say that we aren't on an anti-boxing crusade.

Trevor, this isn't a sort of boxing freemasonry thing, is it?

I'm surprised you ask.

Frankly, I'd like them to understand how truly impartial you are.

That's showboating. The coroner KNOWS I'm impartial.

I live in the REAL world.

Any chance of some toast?

- You've cut yourself shaving. - Have I?

- God, I look awful! - Trevor, where's Jenny?

Why do you ask?

I took her place at the boxing bout and every time I mention her,

- you change the subject. - She's left me.

What?!

She's run away with someone younger... someone less boring.

Well, YOU'RE not boring.

I'm not 23. HE is.

God, I'm sorry.

I'd like to apply for this job.

Experience with Windows '95 and Excel?

♪ Shea-earer! Shea-earer! ♪

That's nice. Jab and move, jab and move, son.

Nice stuff. Keep going.

Sorry, love. No press today.

I'm not press. I'm looking for Terry Cross.

- And your name is? - Dr Ryan.

- Is DI Selway here? - Been and gone.

Terry's out the back in the office.

Cover it up! Move it, move it!

Come on, move it.

Yes?

- I'm looking for Terry Cross. - You've found her.

- This is YOUR gym? - Theresa Cross.

Everybody calls me Terri. It's my dad's gym -

Terence Cross..."Terry". I run it for him.

- You've been faxing my office. - The pathologist - Dr Ryan.

- I expected a man. - Yeah, me too.

Have a look around if you want. It's all pukka - medicals, scans.

We run a quality operation here.

Well, what do you want to see?

We found an old injury on Kevin.

I wanted to see if something here might've caused it.

There 's nothing.

A blow in training? A fall on a hard surface?

How can you be sure?

- Charlie! - Yeah?

Will you feed Dad for us, please, while I show Dr Ryan around?

Yeah, sure.

Kevin didn't train here for the last few months.

He went into the fight under the Cross banner, but trained himself.

- Is that normal? - No.

Kevin just disappeared one day.

- Did anyone from here see him? - No.

He rang and asked Charlie and Barry to work his corner.

I let them do it.

Kevin had been like a son to my dad.

Why did he disappear?

I've no idea.

My dad was knocked down six months ago - a hit-and-run.

Since then, I've run the gym on my own and some of the fighters walked out,

but Kevin and Charlie stayed.

And how long ago exactly did Kevin leave?

Six weeks tomorrow.

My dad converted this room into a gym with his own hands.

He has even fed these boys when they were broke.

- All for boxing. - All for THEM.

He doesn't run it for bloodlust. Read his sign!

- He's right. - Yeah,

but it teaches them discipline. It gives them a purpose.

It's true, that is.

Terence saw something in me.

He turned me into a boxer with a future.

A blow Kevin Sharma received some time ago killed him.

He didn't receive it here.

- Hey, what the hell...? - Don't panic! I just want to talk.

- You scared me! - Sorry.

HORN TOOTS

Terri could do without you accusing her of getting Kevin killed.

- I didn't! - That's how people see it.

I should report this conversation.

Kevin didn't hurt himself in a gym!

He had a fight, a punch-up in the street.

- With? - I don't know.

Well, who told YOU?

I couldn't say that. Look, stop here.

Why?

Cos I've gotta run all the way back.

- Fred, I want some X-rays... - Mm-hm.

..and the arms and the hands done and especially the knuckles...

here, here and here, OK?

Same on the other hand. Soon as you can.

OK.

Yeah, hello, it's Dr Ryan in Forensic Pathology.

Is that the Social Workers' Office?

..Great. I'd like some information on respite care, please.

..Forensic Pathology. We don't have PATIENTS - we have cadavers.

Yeah! Come on! And a back-hand coming back.

Elbow up! Elbow UP!

- It's there, it's there! - Yeah, it's there NOW.

You can't feel it!

Come on, time. Cool down.

Am I a good trainer?

Very good.

But I'm not my dad, right?

Stop worryin'. NO-ONE'S your dad.

So, why haven't you left, then?

Cos you give me such a good work-out.

Really

Your dad made me.

He never turned his back on me. Why should I do it to him?

So, why did Kevin leave?

Eh? Why did Kevin?

- It wasn't like that. - No? So what happened, then?

He never said.

Time!

Focus!

Here and here. The shadowing is where the breaks were.

But they couldn't be seen from the surface of the skin?

They'd healed.

It must've been some fight.

How do you know this happened at the time of the brain injury?

Scarring.

The bone grows over the fracture at a regular rate.

I've opened one up so we can see.

Here and here. This is what you saw on the X-ray.

Are you sure?

What do you mean?

Could it be ambiguous?

Could he have caught his hand in a car door?

No.

If Kevin died of injuries received in a street fight,

it is at least manslaughter, maybe murder.

Now, before I commit to those sort of resources I MUST be certain.

Do you doubt my word?

It's MONEY. Investigating a murder costs £5,000 a day!

Bastard!

You have to work with him, Sam.

I don't want to discuss it.

It looked personal.

- It's none of your business. - It IS...

literally.

I have to work with him, too. What's going on?

When I was newly qualified, I dealt with a murder.

A woman's boyfriend said he found her dead at the foot of the stairs.

Everyone knew this couple fought like cat and dog.

I said her bruising was from a struggle.

The defence tore a hole in my evidence and he walked free.

Ross, who was the DS in the case, put it down to my incompetence.

Was it?

I don't think so. OK, I was inexperienced,

but I knew my stuff. I just presented it badly.

- When was this? - Years ago.

All right. Update him.

Tell him what a success you are now. Take him to dinner.

Absolutely not!

- Wear a little black dress. - YOU wear one!

The door was open.

More questions?

- I came about your father. - Charlie's taken him for a walk.

I had a problem with MY mother.

She needed constant care.

Sorry.

She's dead now.

My sister bore the brunt of the responsibility.

It nearly destroyed her.

I hope you don't mind,

but I talked to Social Services at the hospital.

She said you're entitled to respite care... to give you a break.

Give her a ring.

Thanks.

Yesterday, I should have said I was sorry...

sorry about Kevin.

Yeah, so am I. Thank God Dad never saw it.

Charlie said he'd had a fight.

- Who? - Kevin - a street fight.

Oh. Mmm.

Do you know who with?

No.

Say it!

What?

It's been sticking in your throat.

- Say it! - I don't understand.

You liar! You told the pathologist.

She's been in the gym talking to me about it as if I knew everything!

Come on, Charlie! She said you told her Kevin had a street fight.

How did you know?

Kevin told me.

- Who did he fight? - Kennedy.

- The boxer? - Ex-boxer.

Why?

- I don't know. - Dad wouldn't have him near the gym!

Why would Kevin bother with HIM?

- He didn't say. - Come on, Charlie. I don't believe you!

- He didn't say! - Why?

Cos he didn't want to tell me!

I don't believe you!

It was to do with your dad.

WHAT to do with him?

Kevin didn't say. I mean, I just know it was about your dad.

You look after him.

- I can trust you with that, can't I? - Hang about.

Terri!

Terri!

WHISTLING

Oi! Bastard!

Why? You bastard!

Bastard!

Bastard!

- WHY? - Get off!

Terri.

TERRI WAILS It's me. Come on, girl.

It's me. It's me.

I'll get you home.

- There's no harm done, is there, Tony? - No, I'm all right.

What are... What are you doing here?

I'm having a drink. It's a pub!

Come on. I'll get you home.

No.

Wait...

- Where to? - The Riverside Restaurant?

- Sounds expensive. - My partner's paying.

- So, where is he? - He'll be with us in spirit.

♪ ..Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba barara

♪ We're living the high life

♪ We're living it we-ell

♪ We're living the high life

♪ Where everything's swe-ell

♪ We're up in the sky We're flying so high, oh my-oh-my

♪ We're living the hi-igh li-ife

♪ The high life! ♪

No, thanks.

Oh, spit it out.

Spit WHAT out?

- What have I done? - The atmosphere came from YOU.

- How? - You don't trust me, Peter.

That thing in the mortuary was typical.

"Could he have caught his hand in a car door?"

- I have to ask questions. - But not in a way that undermines me.

Sam, I trust you. Won't that do for tonight?

What about tomorrow?

I'll treat you as I treat ANY scientist -

- with respect and scepticism. - Charming

Oh? "You're my loveliest dinner companion since..."

Since?

Since you were last my dinner companion.

Oh, come on - friends.

For Trevor's sake.

I don't think you're going to drink that.

Hello, guv... Sorry. Dr Stewart told me where you were.

Sir.