All language subtitles for 03. Vice

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'In the criminal justice system,
the people are represented

by two separate yet equally important
groups.

The police, who investigate crime,

and the Crown prosecutors,
who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.'

You're slow, boy!
You are dreamin'!

I am faster than you every day!

14.2 seconds?!
You're never gonna beat that!

Right, I'll prove it.

This one.

Right, time me.
Go!

ALARM

Stay where you are!
Stop! Stay where you are!

I didn't do it! I didn't do it...

I didn't do it!

545, Control.
Need urgent assistance.

I didn't do it!

They didn't do it.
Body had been there ten or 12 hours
by the time they got there.

So who's the poor sod in the back?
No wallet or ID.

Head stoved in. Multiple blows
from a blunt instrument.

Toolkit in the back of the car.
Weapon might have come from that.

Frenzied attack,
judging by the splatter patterns.

You love saying "splatter patterns",
don't you?

The two kids are in custody.
Looks like they've taken
half the sat-navs in a square mile.

Right.
So is this still an HQ for toms?

Yeah. Might explain
why his John Thomas was hanging out.

"Blowus interruptus",
if you ask me.

Ron, PNC results. Vehicle
belonged to a Frank McCallum.

Blimey! Previously
Detective Sergeant McCallum.

He used to be a copper, in Vice.

He's one of us.

We'd been separated nine months.

I was hoping
the split was temporary.

When we were first married,

he used to bring me an orange lily
every Friday night.

I'd call him a hopeless romantic.
He'd say, "No, just hopeless."

Working for Vice changed him.

He stopped being the man I married.

That's what being a copper does.
Eats you from the inside.

Is there anyone
you'd like us to contact?

I wanted kids.
I told him he'd be a great dad.

He was a good man.

Darling, I'm so sorry.
I just got your message.

Thanks, Josh.

I'm sorry, sir, you are?
Josh Pritchard. I'm Frank's boss.

Oh. Erm...DS Brooks.
This is DS Devlin.

Er...PC Cook will take you home.

Just give us a call
if you need anything.

Speak to you in a minute, right?

Battle Fieldz,
is that your company?

Yeah, with a Z. It's a paintballing
centre out in Epping Forest.

Frank's our operational director.

And what does that job involve?
Everything.

Erm...security, supplies,

making sure
the arenas were in good nick.

He did a fantastic job.

Tell me, was he into prostitutes?

And what kind of question's that?
A relevant one.

Yeah, well, I don't know, do I?

Why on earth would he tell me that?
It's not the kind of conversation
you normally have with your boss.

'We've got teams
looking for witnesses.'

CCTV?
Not round there.

Local kids have a league table,
who knocks out the most cameras.

We're checking all private systems
within half a mile. It'll take time.

A murder weapon
would make it too easy.

The search teams
haven't turned anything up.

Forensics have found prints
in the prelim exam of the car,
but none of them match our records.

Maybe our girl's new in town.
Or boy.

You think it's a prostitute scam
gone wrong?

He does, I don't. McCallum's
ex-Vice. He knows the ropes.

Ain't gonna get scammed, then
bashed to death in his own motor.

Revenge killing? Someone
he had a run-in with at Vice?

So why's he got his ninky-nonk out?
(SNIGGERS)

You call it a ninky-nonk?
You should hear what I call you!

Talk to the friendly neighbourhood
tarts, find out what they've heard.

last night. Hear anything about it?

Bit buff for a copper, you!
Do you mind, love?

His head's big enough,
without you adding to it.

Maybe a girl tried to rip him off.
We don't scam punters round here!

Start getting a reputation
like that, business dies on you.

Anyone new here,
might not understand the rules?

Help us out, I'll throw in
a get-out-of-jail-free card, next
time you're nicked for soliciting.

There's a new girl, round the back
of Paddington. Little Irish girl.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Blonde mousey hair,
green eyes, looks about 12.

It's a good market for her.

Well, does she have a name?

Niamh!

Bloke's asking for you by name.

Hello, Niamh.
Hello yourself.

Do I know you?
Not really.

No, but you might know this.

What? You're Old Bill?
Don't you have anything better
to do with your life?

That bag's almost as big as you,
love. What have you got in there?

Not much.
Well, do you mind showing us?

These belong to Frank McCallum,
who was murdered yesterday.

You were arrested
on suspicion of his murder.

No.

I found them. On the pavement
near the railway lines.

Where are you from, Niamh?

If I had to guess,
I would say...Dungannon.

Or a village just outside,
like...Cookstown.

It's about five miles away.

I got family. Distant family.

Mad family.
Don't see 'em much, thank God.

Your parents know you're here?

My mum's dead.

My dad's a bastard.

Snap.

Are we related, do you think?

(SIGHS)

Niamh,

the man that was murdered
used to be a policeman.

So, for myself and Matt here, it's
like losing a member of our family.

You were found with
that murdered man's property on you.

Your fingerprints were in his car.

Tell us what happened.

The driver's door was open.

He was already dead,
lying in the back.

There was no-one around.

I promise you, on my life,
I didn't do it.

The coat was in the back.
The wallet and phone were in there.

So I grabbed them,
took the keys, shut it all up.

Look at me.

You think I could kill him?

Some days I think
anybody's capable of anything.

OK.

We're gonna charge you
with theft of articles from the car,

and we'll keep you here until
we can get a full forensic report -

I told you I didn't!
I know, sweetheart, I know.

But sometimes people lie.

Niamh Quinn is telling the truth.

Of all the stuff
under her fingernails,

and, really, you don't wanna know,

no skin or blood
from Frank McCallum.

Plus she doesn't share
the same lipstick as the killer.

What, you took a lipstick trace
off his - Wangdoodle.

Oh yeah.
But she cguld h!ve other dipsticks

This one's Blush by Nyman.
It's not one you get in Superdrug.

40 quid a go.

American manufacturer.
Only Selfridges stock it.

Classy girl he had in his crotch.

From the text messages folder
on his mobile,

text from a...Sanchia.

"Urgent. Must see you tonight.
Don't mess me about."

What do we know about this Sanchia?
I called the number.

She's the accountant
at a paintballing centre.

Battle Fieldz.

With a Z! Nice work.

We'd been on a date.

He'd been asking for a while.
I sort of gave in.

I got drunk quite quickly
that night.

He ended up back at mine.

When he asked
about going out again, I said no.

So he tried to blackmail me.
How was he gonna do that?

I work in accounts,
I know the systems.

Sometimes I get people in for free
and...take a few of the supplies.

I told Frank when I was drunk.

After you turned him down,
he tried to use that against you?

He locked the door,
said he'd report me,

unless I went out with him.
Basically, slept with him.

I told him to take a running jump.

Can I ask you what kind of lipstick
you wear, Sanchia? I don't.

Where were you Wednesday
between noon and 5pm?

Here, all afternoon.

Health-and-safety course,
with half a dozen other staff.

Sanchia's alibi's rock solid.

Your little friend Niamh, she
really isn't a credible suspect.

She's naive, no worse than that.

We need to know more about
the victim. Who was Frank McCallum?

We turned over his flat.
Nothing of interest.

Sparse little gaff in Wood Green.
Classic divorced bloke, on his own,
totally unhomely and depressing.

Not all divorced blokes
live like that.

Says "Mr Frayed Carpet
In His Lounge"!

The people before me had a cat!
What are you doing with those ties?

Vice are holding a wake for McCallum
at the Golden Hind.

I thought we should nip down,
find out a bit more about him.

Excellent!

people's records, numberplates, etc.

Usually about employees
at the paintball place.

When did you last speak?
Oh, I don't know...

Ten days ago. He wanted me
to check out a false charge
on the company credit card.

Frank thought
it might've been phished.

Internet fraud.
And what did you find out?

It was a legit company behind
the charge. Er... Velvet Holdings.

I don't know what he did
with the information.

Did he have a taste
for prostitutes? (SIGHS)

Show a bit of respect, will you?
Is that a yes or a no?

Frank was a good copper! But
he wore his heart on his sleeve.

Fell in love four times a day.
Nothing got to him more
than a hard-luck story.

He thought he could help the girls,
you know. Fix their lives.

Worst place for a bloke like that
is Vice.

Right, we'll need the names
of the people he pissed off.

That wasn't Frank. He was
putting his life back together.

He was doing good.

Sorry, boys, you've hit a dead end.

Mind that, mind that!

Frank McCallum asked
an ex-colleague of his

to investigate an apparently
fraudulent charge made by them
to your company credit card.

No details about Velvet
in any of McCallum's files.

So, how many people are authorised
to use your company credit card?

I don't know. Three, I think.
But ask Sanchia.

We'll need the names
of those authorised users,

plus the account statements
for the last few months.

Sure.

Sorry, Mr Pritchard, you said you'd
never heard of Velvet Holdings.

No.

Well, Battle Fieldz...

..made seven payments to them
last month, at £1,000 a throw.

And half a dozen
the month before that.

Wow. Maybe it's...a supplier
that's changed their name.

Er...Sanchia,

got those invoices on there?
Give me a sec and I'll look.

Each payment was made using
company credit card number two.

Who uses that?

Erm...it's probably Frank.

Velvet Holdings...
"Miscellaneous Supplies."

Very miscellaneous, seeing as
neither of you know about them.

Check Companies House. Get a full
FIU. See what we can get from them.

I became a 'tec for the glamour.
What happens?

I spend most of my nights here,
trawling through paperwork with you.

Well, you can bet your life
Frank McCallum did the same
when he was on the job.

Just remember
why you're doing this, Matt.

14 blows to the head.

What kind of person does that?

So, where are we?

Well, company search,
"Velvet Holdings", look: nothing.

No phone numbers, website,
emails, business accounts. Nothing.

No clues about what they do.

Although, registered office
is in Oxford Street.

I mean, we go there,
we could find an operating address,
maybe even some names.

We're a clearing house.

Companies put this
as their registered address

for official mail
- Inland Revenue, Companies House -

and we forward it on
to where they're really based.

So, what, you sit here all day,
forwarding letters?

All day, every day.

I'm not allowed a computer,
cos that'd be too distracting.

And that camera...monitors me.

All day. Every day.

You enjoy your job, Kieran?
I'm a facade.

Velvet Holdings?
Yes. Here we go.

That's everything we've got on file.
Thank you.

Velvet Holdings have their mail
forwarded on to a shop in Barnes
called Toby's Play Room.

Let's have a look
at that phone number.

Yep. Frank McCallum's mobile bill.

He called that shop
the day before he was killed.

of the shop.

I think the accountant advised
Emma to set it up, some tax break.

A man called Frank McCallum
rang here a couple of days ago.

Do you know what that was about?
No. Sorry. I didn't speak to him.

I did.
Emma, thas i3 Detective Sergeant. .

Erm... Sorry.
DS Brooks. This is DS Devlin.

Emma Sandbrook. I own the shop.
Er...yes, no, er...Frank.

We spoke last week.
He rang about his delivery,
to see if it had come in.

We supply...kids' stuff
to his paintball company.

Kids and paint, my idea of hell.

Did you make the delivery?

No. He picked it up himself.
Tuesday, I think.

And Wednesday, did you see him then?
No, I don't think so.

You're not sure?

Erm... No.

Can't have been. We went shopping.
Yeah, that's right.

We don't work Wednesday afternoons.
We treat ourselves.
We took the tr!in to Bond Street,

had a late lunch at Selfridges.

Bit of window shopping,
that sort of thing.

Well, you've got some nice stuff.
Have you been open long?

Erm...about three and a half years.

Is everything all right with Frank?

He was beaten to death
on Wednesday afternoon.

Oh, my God. That's terrible.

Well, we'll be in touch
if we need anything else.

She said he rang about a delivery,
but he picked the stuff up himself.

From Epping to Barnes!
And he's the operational director.

No.

Why bother with that?

Why do Battle Fieldz have 'em
in Miscellaneous Supplies
in their accounts?

They've got a category
for that stuff.

Maybe a mistake. Depends what you
favour. Conspiracy or cock-up?

You know me, Mattie, I believe
everything everyone tells me,

and I'm disappointed
on a daily basis.

So, if it's not paintballing
equipment, what are they supplying

Could be a drugs front.

Dealing coke to the middle classes
of southwest London.

Nah.
Nah.

But you've got the accounts file
for Velvet Holdings? Yeah.

All legit on the surface.
So go below the surface.

Talk to everyone who's made
payments into the company

and find out
exactly what they're paying for.

Feet off the table.

I work like a bastard down here,
Monday to Friday.

I'm allowed a bit of play.

We'd just like to know
what the girls from Velvet Holdings
supply you with.

Don't try and put any stigma
on me, lads.

I could have an affair,
be keeping a bird here,
but I couldn't live with myself.

This way,
it's a business transaction.

We all have a good time,
they get paid,

and I'm not betraying the wife.

They're prozzies.
Bloody good ones.

"High class" doesn't come into it.

Save up, lads. Treat yourselves.

Do you recognise these women?

Oh, aye. There we go!

That's Coral, and that's Amber.

Bloody hell.

I get a rod on like Nelson's Column,
just thinking about her.

A school like this can't come cheap.

That's before you've even bought
the first tennis racket.

There's enough gaps in what
they're saying to bring 'em in.

I know, but still...
I hate this bit.

Splitting families.

..so good, and your serving
is so much better.

I've been improving a lot.
You have, my love.

Hello, gentlemen.
Mrs Sandbrook.

This is my son Toby. He's just been
selected to represent the school.

Isn't it great?
Nice work, mate.

Thanks.

Go ask your father for a drink,
my love.

Is everything OK?

We'd like you to come with us
to the station.

Now?

It's related
to Frank McCallum's death.

I'm sorry, we can't, not now.

Emma Sandbrook, Kate Barton,
I'm arresting you on suspicion
of the murder of Frank McCallum.

You do not have to say anything,
but it may harm your defence

if you do not mention when
questioned - This is ridiculous!

Anything you do say
may be given in evidence.

Emma, what's going on?
Nothing. These...er...

These policemen want to ask us
about a guy who bought stuff
from the shop.

That's all.
Well, can't it wait, chaps?

No, it can't. I'm sorry, sir.

KATE: Take Joe.
Tim's getting changed.

Give them tea. I'll pick them up
later. We won't be long. What?

Car's this way.

HUSBAND: Emma?

What's going on?
See you later, darling. Nothing.

See you later.

Kate, we checked with Selfridges.

They've got no record of you
at the restaurant the afternoon
Frank McCallum was killed.

We didn't have a reservation,
and we paid cash.

There's no sign of you on the CCTV
cameras along Bond Street, either.

Have you got any receipts
for your purchases?

Threw them away. Sorry.

Kate, I've been married twice.

No woman throws away receipts for
clothes they've only just bought.

How did the prostitution start?

We prefer to call ourselves escorts.
That's classier, I agree.

But whatever you want to call it,
how did it start?

We bought our house five years ago.
Top of what we could afford.

A year later, I found
my husband was having an affair.

After I chucked him out,

I found out
he'd run up debt in my name.

We owed on the boys' school fees.

I was 40 grand in debt,
couldn't cover the mortgage.

Have you ever been in so much debt?

It's like you can't breathe.

Did you kill Frank McCallum?
No.

Did Emma?

We were shopping all afternoon.

Frank McCallum had
a wife who loved him,

a job he enjoyed, and a lot of mates
who are struggling to understand

why at the age of 47 he is dead.

If you provide a false alibi
for a killer...

..you are in just as much trouble
as they are.

Misguided loyalty...
will not help you.

Or your sons.

I'm telling the truth.

Steve and I put all our money
into starting up the shop.

We remortgaged, took out a loan,
lost money hand over fist every
month. It got worse and worse.

Then Steve lost his bloody job,
and...

I knew Kate through the school.

And we were in the same situation.

We'd sit in her kitchen
in the evenings, drinking wine,

trying to come up with a solution.

We were joking at first. Then
I just thought, "Well, why not?
What's so bad about that?"

We don't do the scuzzy end.

We pre-select and vet
all our clients.

Mostly young blokes
with some money, some class.

Sounds almost aspirational.

Don't judge me.

I know what I am.

I know
what people will think of me.

And does it matter to you,
what people will think?

I've been doing it
to keep my family together.

I'm good at it.

I make others feel good.
DOOR OPENS

Emma.

I'm afraid your DNA
was all over the murder scene.

On Frank McCallum's body, and
on a toolkit in the back of his car.

That would've been the Tuesday.

He came to the shop
to...pick up his order.

I helped him load stuff into the
car. I must've moved the toolkit.

We searched your house.
We found this.

Blush by Nyman.

Also found on Frank McCallum's body.

Nice colour. Suits you.

I'm not a murderer.
Sorry, Emma.

We're going to charge you
with the murder of Frank McCallum.

Traces of her rare and expensive
lipstick were on his body.

But we don't have a murder weapon,
and she denies she was there.

She'd have us believe he was
murdered by some street prostitute.

How will you stand this up
in court? Motive.

What provokes Emma Sandbrook
into such a brutal attack?

Find that, we unlock the case.
Frank McCallum gets justice.

They had sex in the car,
he refuses to pay, she gets angry.

No. Inconsistent.
She's a thousand-pound escort.

All her other clients
she saw in hotels or their homes.

Maybe car sex
turned Frank McCallum on.

George is right. I don't think
Emma would've taken that risk.

Every aspect of their work was...

careful, pre-planned,
safety-conscious.

A long way from watertight.
You've got a lot of work to do.

Why did she get in the car?
What happened after she did?

Phyllis! Do you mind?
We're in conference!

You need a new receptionist.
That one's easy to get past.

Phyllis Gladstone,
representing Emma Sandbrook.

I've seen you defend.
Did I get her off?

Yep.
What are you doing?

When did prostitutes
fly the flag for women's rights?

Sexual exploitation of women.

What?! How did you make that leap?

Drop the charges.
You can't win this.

The DNA evidence is irrefutable.
Ah, the great God science.

I'll turn it to dust
beneath my fingers. Motive?

Out!

You don't know, do you?
Out!

Good. Good!
I'll tell my client.

She's...impossible.

And brilliant.

You have to find that motive.

Start prodding the husband.

He must be feeling
a little bruised.

She wasn't in the car.
She didn't kill him. I know her.

But, until this came out, you
didn't know she was a prostitute.

Stop calling her that!

I'm sorry.

Sometimes it's too much...

to take in.

Before we got married,

I told her,
if she ever slept with anyone else,

I'm out. No discussions,
no second chances. I'd just leave.

So why are you still here?

Couldn't do it.

Maybe I should...take Toby and go.

But there's no off switch
when you...love someone, is there?

I just want
to keep the family...together.

So long as that doesn't include
lying for them.

I've told you everything
she told me. She wasn't there.

Did you find anything on Frank
McCallum's credit-card bills? Yes.

Almost every time
there's a Velvet Holdings charge,

there's a charge the same day
from Hotel 103,

a small hotel in Marylebone.

Could be the love pad.
That's what I was thinking.

But the last payment
was three weeks before the murder.

So...what?

After that they switched hotels?
Don't think so.

There's no more charges
on the card.

Maybe they had a falling-out,
stopped seeing each other.

See if any of the staff
noticed anything odd

about the last time McCallum
and Emma were there. Sure.

Checking in at 2:24pm on the 19th.

Yep.
Won't be a sec.

There you go.

That's her.
And that's your Mr McCallum.

No, it's not.

Look, what exactly is it
you want me to say?

You lie$ to the polace.

You were having sex with the woman
accused of murdering your employee
and you forgot to mention it?

OK, so I'm really terribly sorry.
Just stop going on about it!

You told police the charges
were on Frank McCallum's card.

I promise you, swear to God,
cross my heart and hope to die,

I had nothing to do
with Frank McCallum's death.

Nor did Amber.

Emma. Emma...Emma Sandbrook.

She ca...calls herself Amber.

What was she doi.g ina car
with Frank McCallum?

I asked him to find her.

Why?
Cos a couple of weeks ago, she...

Emma...said she didn't want
to continue with our meetings.

Why?
I don't know.

She said it was nothing personal.

That it was her, not me.

Maybe I was just getting
a little bit too close
or something, I don't know.

But, I tell you, those two hours
were the best part of my week.

I asked her to live with me,
cos I wanted a relationship
rather than just a transaction.

And about then
she stopped returning my calls.

And so I knew that...Frank,
he'd been in the police force,

so I asked him to find her for me.

You sent Frank McCallum
after Emma Sandbrook,

and then you lied about it,
persistently.

Er...

I didn't know what else to do,
you know?

I love her.

So, Frank McCallum lied to his old
friend in Vice about why he needed
information on Velvet Holdings.

It wasn't credit-card fraud.
He wanted to find Emma for Josh.

And we know he did,
because he called her at the shop.

Which means he knew everything.
Her real name, that she was
married with a child.

Is that why she got in his car,
rather than meet him at Hotel 103?

So she didn't meet him for sex
at all.

He picks her up, drives her
somewhere out of the way...

And threatens to tell the whole
of Barnes about her secret.

Unless she sleeps with him
whenever he wants.

It's the same thing he demanded of
the woman at the paintball company!

Emma's driving force all along
was to keep her family together.
That's why she sold sex.

So what happens if Frank McCallum
threatens to expose a secret

that would make her husband leave
and tear her family apart?

And you think that gives
Emma Sandbrook a motive for murder?

Yuck! Big yuck. What a stretch!

That theory will sag like
an undercooked souffle in court.

After she killed him, she panicked.

Did the first thing
that came to mind.

She put lipstick around his penis,
to make it look like
he'd been with a prostitute,

not realising her lipstick
was traceable back to her.

She wasn't there.

She didn't do it.
Emma pleads guilty to manslaughter

on grounds of provocation.

McCallum's widow
is saved the trauma of a trial.

Show some humanity, Phyllis.
If my client refuses your offer?

We'll try her for murder.
She can expect a heftier sentence.

Take this offer, Emma could get
as little as five years.

She'd be out
in time to see Toby do his GCSEs.

I'll put your suggestion
to my client.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I do have other work.

Think she'll take it?
I'd never predict Phyllis Gladstone.

If she refuses, blackmail's a good
mitigation, even at a murder trial.

It's motive, not a defence.

You're never gonna believe this.
Emma Sandbrook...wants to confess.

Frank McCallum came to the shop.

He said
he worked for Josh Pritchard

and that he knew all about me.

He said if I didn't get
in the car with him, he'd drive
straight round to see my husband.

I couldn't bear the thought of it
coming out, so I got in the car.

He drove and parked up
and then he locked the doors

and said he wouldn't
tell my husband, so long as
I agreed to have sex with him,

free of charge, whenever he wanted.

I...I told him
I wasn't going to do that.

And I tried to get out of the car.

And that's when he grabbed me.

DI CHANDLER:
Where did he grab you?

First by the wrist,
then by the hair.

He...he pulled my head...

down into his...crotch

and forced me to...

I'm sorry, Emma,
we have to be clear about this.

What did Frank McCallum
force you to do?

To perform oral sex on him.

I was struggling.

I managed to push him off me, and
crawled into the back of the car,

but he came after me
and was trapped.

I saw the spanner
on top of the open toolkit.

And...

Frank was...

He was clawing at me,
pulling at my clothes.

So I grabbed the spanner
and swung it.

I was protecting myself.

I thought he was going to kill me.

'Attempted rape.'

When did you dream that up?
It's the truth.

It happened just as she said.

And no jury hearing that
will convict her of murder.

'Why didn't she mention rape
before?'

She didn't think she'd be believed.
Really? She's no shy wallflower.

We know McCallum asked
another woman for sex
in exchange for his silence.

And we know he never went further
than asking.

Every rapist starts somewhere.

If you can find proof
within the evidence to support
Emma's assertion, I'll listen.

Until then, my duty is to the murder
victim. He's still owed justice.

So, can you make it home
with what you've got on this case?

Yeah.
Good.

No further arrangements.

Emma Sandbrook stands trial
for murder.

Oh, by the way,

Emma's husband
has corroborated her story.

He told her
to stay away from the police.

He disposed of the murder weapon.
The police are locating it now,
based on his information.

He changed his story?

Sweetie,
don't look so disappointed.

Not only is Emma lying, she's got
others lying for her, as well.

You're not convincing me,
and you won't convince a jury.

Lies rarely sustain under pressure,
Phyllis.

Well, we'll soon find out.

May the best man win.

a sex worker called Debbie Kane

complained
to the Police Complaints Authority

that she was arrested
by Frank McCallum after refusing
to have sex with him?

That complaint was not upheld.

And 3ubsequently in2002
a sex worker called LisaMcCormack
filed a similar complaint.

Also dismissed.

It's easy for prostitutes
to make these complaints.

Frank wasn't that sort of bloke.

Were complaints made against
anyone else in the Vice Squad?

Not to my knowledge, no.

MURMURING

Thank you.

Did those complaints allege
Detective McCallum used violence?

Absolutely not.
Do you know why they were dismissed?

They were investigated by the PCA.

There was an on-the-record hearing.

They concluded there was
no evidence to support the charges.

There's no saliva in the lipstick!
Sorry?

I've been back through forensics.

The lipstick marks
on Frank McCallum's body
didn't contain traces of saliva.

Contradicting Emma's evidence

that McCallum forced her
to perform oral sex.

So I asked Forensics to check back
for other inconsistencies.

They queried why the lipstick
was the only marking
on McCallum's penis.

If it had been outside of
his clothes during the attack,

it should've been splattered
with blood.

But it wasn't.

Which means the lipstick was applied
after she'd killed Frank McCallum.

The facts undermine Emma's story.

She was in the car,
but she wasn't raped.

Hello?

Hi. Erm...I'm Annie McCallum.
Frank's wife.

Oh, come in, come in! James Steel.

I was in court this morning.
I know what they're trying to do.

Now, Frank was many things
but he wasn't a rapist.

We believe you.

But are the jury going to
believe that?

You know, SHE killed him,
and now she's lying about him.

Who's speaking out for Frank?

Who's defending him?
We are.

I promise.

I thought the money came
from the shop.

I didn't think to ask questions,
not when we needed it so badly.

The money Emma earned...

..was a lifesaver.

Before that,
we were in massive trouble.

If Emma's acquitted,
will you let her come home?

Yes.

We're a family.

Toby needs his mum.

So, despite everything,
you're here,

giving evidence...
in support of your wife.

I don't agree with her selling sex.

But I understand why she did it.

She sacrificed herself,
to keep the family together.

And I'm...certain
she's telling the truth
about what happened in the car.

Thank you.

Is it difficult, being continually
humiliated by your wife,
Mr Sandbrook?

Pertinent questions, Mr Steel,
please.

Emma...comes to you in tears

and...she tells you she just
killed a man who tried to rape her,

and you tell her
not to go to the police?

I was worried
they wouldn't believe her.

You're not a stupid man.
You must have known they'd find out.

I-I-I don't... I mean, it...

It wasn't the best decision.

None of this is the truth, is it?

Your wife never told you
she killed Frank McCallum

in self-defence.
I told you what happened.

She came up with the story
of attempted rape after her arrest

and demanded you go along with it.
No!

"She told me she wasn't there."

That's from your original statement.

Were you lying then?
Or are you lying now?

Can anything you say
be believed?

In your line of work,

have you ever been asked
to do things

that you...didn't want to do?

One man threatened me
with a carving knife.

I had no choice
but to let him do what he wanted.

Rape you.

Yes.

What would have happened
if you'd refused?

I think he might have killed me.

Mrs Sandbrook was responsible
for you becoming a prostitute?

We discussed it together.

It was a short-term solution
to...a difficult problem.

But you soon got used to the money?

Neither of us
were going to do it forever.

Emma had been wanting to stop
for a few months. She'd had enough.

She wanted out
before Steve discovered.

No further questions.

JUDGE: I will rise
for the short adjournment.

Members of the jury,
please be back here in one hour.

Give me Emma's police statement.

And every statement
by her husband and Kate.

Sure.
USHER: Court, rise.

When I saw the spanner,
I just grabbed it...and swung it.

I was just trying
to get him off me.

Why didn't you go to the police?

Because I knew they wouldn't see
a mum from Barnes, just a whore.

I was just trying to protect
my family.

Thank you, Emma.

How many strangers have paid you
to have sex with them?

JUDGE: Answer the question, please,
Mrs Sandbrook.

80...maybe 90 men.

Were you proud
of being a prostitute?

Not proud, no.

Ashamed, then?

Sometimes.

Why...did you want
to stop being a prostitute?

Why do you think?

It's your evidence we require,
Mrs Sandbrook.

I have a husband and son.

I don't think I could...
carry on living with myself if I...

..if I didn't stop...doing it.

So you felt guilty and ashamed?

Like I said, yes,
sometimes I did, yes, sometimes.

And were you worried
that if your husband found out

he might leave you,
as he'd previously threatened?

I never wanted to hurt Steve.

So when Frank McCallum
threatened to tell your husband,
you had no choice but to kill him?

No. He tried to rape me.
You reached for a spanner

and you hit him 14 times.

14...times.

That's a frenzied attack.

What did he say to make you so angry?
He was attacking me!

I-I told you.
He brought out all that guilt

and shame and self-loathing
you'd worked so hard to bury. No!

You thought you were about to -
I was fighting him off!

..be free of prostitution.
He was trying to RAPE ME!

He was threatening
to destroy your life. No!

You just said you hated your life,
couldn't live with yourself.

All that rage came flooding out.
No! That is not how it was!

Was he still talking, after
the first blow with the spanner?

Second? Third? Or -
I don't know. I can't remember!

Was he still threatening
to tell Steve

when you hit him the fifth time,
the seventh, the ninth?

It was fast. I don't know.
When did he lose consciousness?

When you could've got out of the car
if you'd wished.

The 11th blow or the 13th?
I don't know.

Because your story is a lie,
isn't it, Mrs Sandbrook? No!

He was trying to rape me.
After you killed him, you panicked.

You altered the scene to make it
look like a prostitute's attack by
applying lipstick to his dead body.

No, I did not!
Forensic tests found no saliva

traces in the lipstick.

MURMURING

You didn't attack him
in self-defence.

If that was true,

you would've fled,
the moment you'd fought him off.

You killed him because he threatened
to expose you as a prostitute. No.

No.

No.

Defendant, please rise.

Members of the jury,
have you reached a verdict
upon which you are all agreed?

Yes.

In relation to the count
of the murder of Frank McCallum,

do you find the defendant
guilty or not guilty?

Guilty.

I can't help thinking
about Emma's family.

Why did Emma force us to trial?
She could've taken our first offer.

There's adway3 more than gne victim.

But it was the right verdict
for Frank McCallum.

Justice has been done.

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