Original subtitles

A man is on a journey.

Danger follows him.

(MOTORBIKE REVS)

(TYRES SCREECH)

(TYRES SCREECH)

(MOTORBIKE REVS)

(TYRES SCREECH)

His path is not simple.

(TYRES SCREECH)

(MOTORBIKE REVS)

(TYRES SCREECH)

Through the wood he runs,

Iike pre)'-

Oi!

Oi!

(MOUTHS)

(PANTS)

The complaint to Ofcom.

(PANTS)

Silence.

A period of anguishedawaitment.

- (ACCORDION NOTES CRASH) - Oh!

Uh!

EI Gringo Dellamor?e.

Commonly known...as Death.

(PANTS) No!

(CLICK)

(PANTS)

(GASPS)

(CLICK)

No! Please!

No!

Don't let it out to black!

(SUPPRESSED GUNSHOT)

No.

(GASPS)

(LOW CHATFER)

- (MICROPHONE SQUEAKS) - Ahem!

L'm pleased to announce today's guest speaker

is Detective Inspector Jack Cloth from City of Town Police,

who'll be sharing the benefit of his many years' experience

profiling the criminal mind and intimidating suspects.

S0, without fur?her ado...Jack Cloth.

(APPLAUSE)

Jack Cloth.

(JACK SIGHS)

The Official Manua/ Of lnvestigatory Praat/Ge,

regarded as a sacred text by practically every member of the police force.

The Carnbridge Book Of Crime Prevention!

- (MURMURING) - Throwing The Book At Thern.

- Oh! - Cop Party by Todd Car?y.

- Ow! - lnterrogations.

- Truncheoneering. Bal/istics. - Watch out!

- Wounds. - Ow!

Useless. N0 amount of reading can prepare you for being a cop.

N0 arnount of words on ink, no pages ful/ of books.

- N0, nothing aan prepare you... - Get off me, filth!

- ...for your first day in the joh. - Get off me!

The vio/ence, the men shout?ng boo in your face.

- B00! - Oh!

E very rninute on the force is a question.

Can you get a grip on the papen/vork? Can you hold it together?

Where do they keep the stap/ers? And the ferna/e uniforms, corne to that.

What exact/y are you looking for in this corridor?

Can you hand/e the tension, the stress, the unexpected gorilla attack?

- (GORILLA SNARLS) - Oh! Oh! Oh!

Come here, come here, come here.

And you're haunted by your own case files.

Photographs of hostages that you fai/ed to save,

bus-stop bestia/ity,

harrowing irnages you hoped you'd never see again.

Then there's the dog work.

Reviewing CCTV tapes for hours.

Staring at the sarne grainy b/ack-and-white footage of an al/eyway

for ever,

in the hope of seeing sornething, anything.

A c/ue, a rnorsel, sornething.

Anything to stop that voice in your head that says, �You're wasting your time!"

Drives you insane, that voice.

S0 angry, so. ..

Scottish.

You know it's a waste oftime, but still you keep Iooking through this stuff,

staring at pictures of... things that once were.

Irnages of yesterda y.

Pointless memories.

- (DOOR OPENS) - (LOW CHATFER AND LAUGHTER)

- Is he a hottie? - You could have told me about my hair.

And ultimately...

(SMACKS LIPS) ?whafs it even for?

S0, you catch the bad guy?

Well done.

But whafs really changed?

The dead stay dead and the living stay living

until they die, at which point, they stay dead.

And you can't save the dead! l've tried!

They're just too damn dead!

(SNIFFS)

End of Iecture.

(LOW VOICES)

(SHE SIGHS)

- (MAN GROANS) - Thanks.

Six sheets of paper is a lot for a woman.

I thought I could handle it. I suppose I thought wrong.

- Don't worry. - POLICEMAN: And again!

We're all women on the first day. This place'll soon kick the tits off you.

Is it that obvious l'm new?

When people have been here a while, they get a sor? of...beaten look about them.

Oh! Aah!

- Also... - MAN: Aaagh!

?this is a giveaway.

(MAN GROANS)

- Who are you repor?ing to? - Jack Cloth. Have you seen him?

Ask Anne OId-man.

- Where would I find one? - Try the Iadies upstairs.

Thank you.

- N0 more explaining. l've done it before. - Out the way. Mind your backs.

(SNIFFS)

(CLEARS THROAT)

- Is there an old man in here? - Who wants to know?

Kerry. Kerry Newblood.

What do you want, Kerry Kerry Newblood?

I was told you'd know where I might find Jack Cloth.

Boys down the station say he's delivering an iconoclastic Iecture

to some idealistic-Iooking extras, trying to establish his character, no doubt.

- But where would l...? - Try the corridor.

Thafs where he Iikes to bump into new recruits.

Thank you. You...you know, you've been really helpful.

It's good to know there are female officers

I can really look up to around here.

(PANTS)

- Oh! - For God's sake!

" 80W. Sorry_ - (SIGHS)

Why aren't these stapled together? You could have killed someone.

Sorry, it's my first day.

And your last, if you don't watch your step. Who's your CO?

- Jack Cloth. Just my Iuck! - Why do you say that?

- What do you know about him? - Well, l've heard the stories.

They say that he's got demons, that he's washed up, he's offthe rails.

- But a genius. - N0, they don't say that.

What else do they say about him?

Well, they say he's the sor? of man who'll embarrass you

by getting you to tell him what other people have said about him

and then revealing he's actually him.

Do they, now?

Not now, but then, at the time they said it. Thafs what they said.

Hm. Well, l'm DI Jack Cloth, and you are?

Kerry, Kerry Newblood. l'm just Kerry Newblood.

Well, Kerry Kerry Newblood, Just Kerry Newblood,

why don't you show me what you can do with a door?

S0, you're fresh meat, hatched in the academy.

L'm guessing you do have qualifications?

Good ones.

- This tells me nothing. - lt's printed on the other side.

Top grades in fingerprint analysis, forensic examination,

criminal procedure, the gathering of evidence.

None of it anything to do with police work.

A curriculum vitae might look all right on your CV,

but it's not wor?h the paper it's torn on.

Ten years at the academy won't prepare you forten minutes out there.

That's where your real training starts, on the streets by the bins!

Yes, sir. l'll do my best.

L've seen this job break the best,

turn them from hot shot to cold shit in the blinking of a year.

- Are you sure you can handle this? - I think so.

A cop doesrft think! A cop knows!

- I know so. - Think again!

(PHONE RINGS)

Asap Qureshi.

L'm on it.

Guv! They've found a body.

- What kind? - Dead and human.

Well, Newblood, Iooks Iike you're about to experience a baptism of blood.

Welcome to the rest of your Iife. Welcome to hell.

- Oh, I got you that Twix, guv. - Thank you.

- We've got a corpse on the Ioose, Des! - Guv.

- NEWBLOOD: Oh, God. - Whafs wrong?

L've never seen a corpse before. Well, nota dead one.

Well, you never get used to it, but you get used to that.

But you never get used to the way you get used to never getting used to it,

and that takes some getting used to.

- You never get used to that. - l've got so much to Iearn.

Well, you can start by making yourself look Iike Iess Iike a rookie.

- How? - Those heels, for one thing.

Can you imagine chasing a suspect wearing those?

- Why would he be wearing them? - It doesrft matter.

By the time you've worked it out, he's got away. And sor? your hair out.

- Why? - Because if you don't tie it back,

you're gonna need someone to help you hold it back

while you vomit in the mor?uary later.

Right.

And that eye shadow. Smoky shades are last year.

This season, it's all about neons.

S0, there's a fresh young face on your team.

- What about her fresh young face? - l'm about to come on to that.

From here?

This new rookie of yours

- is too attractive to Iose. - Sir.

If anything happens to her, you're responsible.

Make sure you give her a hand.

N0, there's no hands, not on my watch. It's digital.

L've seen what happens when you're round new recruits.

They're the mice, and you're the trap, a trap baited with bitter old grey cheese.

- But... - Old grey cheese, Cloth.

(SIGHS)

- (BIRDSONG) - (CROW CAWS)

- Oh! - Here.

QURESHI: Box Wood, Iocal forest.

525 acres,

consisting oftrees, soil, ear?hworms and other organic and biological matter.

Specific features of interest include an orienteering course,

bird-watching facility, three separate dogging hotspots

and that dead man.

- Who found him? - Colin Fox and family.

Out picnicking at the time.

Glad it hasrft ruined your appetite.

I remember when you took a more Iiberal attitude towards eating out, Jack.

- What are you Iooking at, Natasha? - White. Male. 40s.

Can't confront emotions because of personal tragedy.

And the body?

White. Male. 40s. Can't confront emotions because he's dead.

CLOTH: Par?ially eaten, by the Iooks of it.

NATASHA: Yeah, the foxes have been at him.

You sicken me!

He trod in our sandwiches.

Semen?

Coffee.

N0 wonder you're drinking it slowly.

Aaah! Pillock.

- OLDMAN: Anus. - Bell-end.

- Whore. - CLOTH: Any other identifying features?

Not yet, but l'll know more when we've turned him over and Iooked for a face.

OK, those are the facts we know.

What are the facts that arerft facts yet because we don't know them? Newblood.

- Yes, sir. - Question.

Murdefis a lot Iike sex. Why?

Because there's nothing worse than walking in on your parents doing it.

Because some people are better at it than others.

Because some people find it easier in the dark.

Anne's right. Frigid and right.

This man was murdered during daylight hours, which implies the killer...

- Strikes during office hours. - Couldrft wait till nightfall.

Five points to the home team. OK, describe the scene.

NEWBLOOD: Unshaven, clothes on backwards.

CLOTH: He's on his stomach.

They don't always land the right way up.

Right.

- CLOTH: Anything else? - Urn...

Look at his hand. He's pointing at that tree.

Deciduous willow tree, of the Salix genus.

Bark sap heavily charged with salicylic acid, common to temperate regions

- ofthe nor?hern hemisphere. - Thank you, Qureshi.

OLDMAN: Why would he be pointing at a willow tree?

Jack?

It's not "Jack". lt's "guv", "sir" or "admiral".

- Sorry, guv, ifsjust... - What?

Well, judging by these footprints, I would say he was heading that way.

He was heading for us, for the police, but why?

Roll him.

- (GASPS) - Oh, my God.

He Iooks just Iike you.

It's my brother.

- Your brother? - My brother.

- His brother? - His brother.

- Your brother? - My brother.

- (ACCORDION SQUEAKS) - Sorry.

(CHAT?ER OVER POLICE RADIO)

Oh, what happened to you?

Whatever happened to me?

What became ofthe people we used to be?

I can't believe he's gone.

He hasrft, Jack. l've just pulled a sheet over him.

Look.

Still there.

Take him away.

I need a drink. Come on.

I said, come on!

CLOTH: Me and Terry grew up together.

We played together.

I was always the Golden Boy and he was the Black Sheep.

They were superhero names we made up ourselves.

(HE SIGHS)

Poor Bastard.

That was another one.

(SIGHS)

Yeah, take it.

(SHE SIGHS)

S0, when did you last see Terry?

- About ten minutes ago, in the forest. - And before that?

Years ago.

Things were...complex between us.

- Terry started seeing this girl. - (ECHOEY VOICE) Jack.

- Deborah Sornething. - This is my girlfriend.

Deborah Something.

Deborah had a sister (Ja/led Jill.

Before long, rne and Jil/ started going out.

The four of us were close, a/ways laughing at the stupidest things.

Then one day...

...me and Jill went up a hill to fetch a pail of water.

I fell down and broke my crown and Jill came tumbling after.

She ended up in a coma.

Deborah becarne rny shou/der to cry on.

And. . .you know how it is.

The rnusky scent of the hesp/tal. The rhythmic pump?ng of the ventilator.

l guess. . . we just cou/dn? help ourselves.

Then Terry came in.

At first, he thought/ was hirn.

Then the penny dropped.

He went berserk.

The shout?ng wake Jil/ up.

Oh, it was the worst moment of rny life...

?apart frorn all the others.

Nothing was the same after that.

Jill vanished.

Terry forgave me, but I just couldrft forgive him for that.

Me and Debbie broke up

and from then on, he only got in touch when he needed something.

Money. Help with the Iaw.

Bone marrow.

I stopped opening his letters.

Didn't answer his calls. Blocked him on Twitter.

- (PHONE BEEPS) - I blame myself for what happened.

(PHONE BLEEPS)

Don't blame myself for what happened.

Ah, but don't you see? The footprints.

Terry was coming to find me. He needs one last thing from me.

He wants me to find his killer.

(SIGHS) To my brother.

(SIGHS)

(CLINK)

- Oh, sorry. - It's OK.

(HE SIGHS)

(MOCK LATIN CHANT)

(CHANT REACHES CRESCENDO)

NEWBLOOD: S0, how come we're out here when the funeraPs in there?

HAIRIHAN: We're on Iookout.

The killer often makes an appearance at the victim's funeral.

They get something from it.

A thrill. Sense of closure.

Souvenir brochure.

You know how killers tick.

It's impressive.

To catch any criminal, you have to think Iike they do.

Imagine you're them and then...arrest yourself.

You have to get inside them.

But how? I mean, how would you go about getting inside me?

I can think of a few entry points.

Well, maybe you could fill me in back at base?

Yeah.

L'd Iike that.

You're too kind to be a cop.

Why did you join the force, Des?

Well, it was this or the kennels.

What about you?

I wanted to make my dad proud.

Hek v

?not with us any more.

L'm sorry to hear that.

(SHE SNIFFS)

Did he die slowly?

_ (sNIFFS) - Sorry.

None of my business.

(SNIFFS)

(soBS)

CLOTH: Terry Cloth was a good man.

A man with problems, maybe, but they're at an end now,

as are the dreams,

and the hopes, the fears,

the brain function...

?the processing of toxins by the gut and kidneys.

Someone out there killed him, and I won't rest till I find out who.

If you've seen anything, however small or insignificant it may seem,

please report it in complete confidence,

using the freephone number at the bottom of your orders of service.

OK. Any questions?

Yes?

Um...Eva De Jong, Grief & Grievers Month/y.

Did anyone bear a grudge against Terry?

Yes, whoever shot him. Next?

Frank Strang, Crernat?ons Review. Which model oven is that?

Denning S90. Fast burn times, automatic flue control, pizza function.

- Yes? - Chris Niblsmf, lndistinct Murnb/er.

(MUMBLES)

Thafs not clear right now. Last question.

Yes?

Oh, er...l'm in early for a wedding.

(BELL TOLLS)

(CARD CLUNKS)

(BELL TOLLS)

- Thank you very much. Appreciate it. - Thank you.

Thank you for coming. There'll be some pizzas in a Iittle while.

- Jack. - Deborah.

- I haverft seen you since... - I haverft seen you since, either.

Must be...

how many years, Jack?

Something Iike that.

S0 many times I... I wanted to make Contact with him,

but...l couldrft face dredging up the past.

And the tariff l'm on is Shocking. Hardly any free minutes.

(SHE SIGHS)

You know, if l'd stayed in touch, this wouldrft have happened. I...

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Oh!

Uh.

- Oh! Oh! Oh! - Hey!

- Hey, hey - Oh!

Don't beat yourself up. Nobody stayed in touch with Terry.

He Iived the Iife of a drifter,

touring around in a sequinned costume, singing Under The Boardwalk.

L've missed you, Jack.

What happened between us was a mistake.

- We slept together, Jack. - I wasn't Iooking where I was going.

What did she do that for?

Because she's bitter and cold and all alone in this world,

and thafs the way she'll stay.

(SIGHS) It must be hard, getting to her age and having no-one.

(SIGHS) l'm ashamed to say I didn't even fancy her.

We had sex once...

...and to this day, the thought of it turns my stomach.

DEBORAH: l'm still here.

NEWBLOOD: Hello. Who are you?

N0 way he can hear you from here.

Wait! Nol

Police! Put the fingernail down!

- There's a Iion behind you. - Mate!

- Mate! Calm down! - (SCREAMS)

I ain't going back inside!

No-one's going inside. We just want to arrest you.

- Whafs your name? - Kenny.

- (SOBS) - Kenny.

We're all friends here. No-one needs to get hun.

- Oh! Ahh! - OLDMAN: All right, Ken!

You give me the knife, l'll give you anything you want.

Another knife?

AII right.

Guv.

Right, l'm arresting you on suspicion of suspicious behaviour!

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

if you do not mention when questioned

something which you later rely on in cour?.

Terms and conditions apply. One coupon per customer.

You must be this high to ride.

Side effects are rare, but may include nausea, dizziness and diarrhoea.

CLOTH: OK, Kenny.

You'd better start talking.

And after you start talking, you'd better start confessing.

And then bleeding right down the end of my fists!

Oh, I am scared, OfficerU)

Would you Iike a biscuit, Kenny?

Oh, you are being friendly.

We just wanna know where you were the day Terry was murdered.

I already told you. I was out...bowling.

OLDMAN: Who With?

Prince Andrew.

Whooargh!

Jack!

- You expect me to believe that? - Ooh. That really hurl(!)

Guv! His story checks out.

KENNY: I can't believe you didn't trust me.

According to his medical records, when exposed to extreme stress,

he develops a sarcastic tone of voice and arrogant facial expression.

It's true.

He can't help it, guv.

This conditiorfs ruined my Iife. I wish I was dead.

What were you doing at the funeral?

I knew Terry. He stayed at the place Eddie Huffvvay runs. S0 did I.

- Huffvvay House? - KENNY: Yeah.

It's a kind of halfvvay house.

Then let's check it out! Get him out of my sight!

Thanks so much(!)

- (GUNSHOTS) - You did all right back at the cemetery.

I got myself taken hostage.

You didn't cry or wet yourself,

or take the knife and stab yourself in the neck and tits with it, and that took guts.

Thank you, Des.

Still, no harm brushing up on your shooter skills, in case it happens again...

...and l'm the best shot on the force.

- (GUNSHOTS) - Ask anyone at the urinals.

Have you ever killed a man?

I never shot a man that didn't deserve it.

- (GUNSHOT) - Only a kid in a wheelchair.

(GUNSHOTS)

I booked us a private Iane.

OK. Magazine in.

- (CLICKS) - Cock it.

(GUN COCKS)

There you go.

Now...

?close your Ieft eye.

Even breaths.

Now, don't...pull the trigger.

Just squeeze it.

Just give it a squeeze.

AII right, pull it.

Firearms wererft my strength at the academy.

I was happier doing papervvork and breaking bad news to relatives.

- You've got a kind face. - Thank you, Des.

HAIRIHAN: Here we go.

Nice grouping-

I fired six shots, but there's only five holes.

Maybe you got two in the one hole.

Thafs something l've only ever seen done on video.

- You're doing really well. - (GLASS CLINKS)

l'm happy to help, officers. l'm Eddie Huffvvay. This was Terry's room.

S0, why was Terry staying here?

Some of our men have mental issues,

some are down on their Iuck, some just want something to eat.

We have all sor?s here.

- Would you Iike one? - N0, thanks. l'm on duty.

You said Terry Iived here till about two weeks ago.

EDDIE: Yes.

Not much to write home about.

For?unately, he was homeless and illiterate.

- Is that all he owned? - Yes.

The pathetic story of a Iife no-one gave two shits about.

I said he was illiterate.

Jack, postcard.

Where's it from?

(SIGHS) I don't know.

It's got a sor? ofthumb on it.

Now we're getting somewhere.

(PEN SQUEAKS)

Funtcuck. Ever heard of it?

Apparently, thafs the way they Iike it.

It's a small village, not far from here.

Call it a hunch, call it instinct, call me AI, but I say the answers Iie there.

Newblood, Hairihan,

you two stay behind, deal with anything that might have been Ieft unresolved.

Anne, Asap, let's roll.

Wall of Silence. Established 1589.

One Iandlord, unmarried. Period decor, exposed beams, rustic ephemera.

Two pub bores. One cat. Menu Iimited, with three misplaced apostrophes.

OK. Let's keep this Iow-key. Discreet.

- Guv... Guv. - Urgghh!

(LOW CHATFER)

Greetings, people of pub!

(CHAT?ER FADES)

l'm DI Jack Cloth, City of Town Police.

And I am Anne OId-man.

Name, DC Asap Qureshi.

37, five foot eight, right-handed, Ieft-dressing.

Enjoys French cricket, Peter Gabriel and bullet-pointed Iists.

Now you know who we are, it's your turn to help.

Does anyone recognise this man?

N0? No-one?

Come on.

Thafs Terry Cloth, but I think you know that.

We know that he was here, in this village, and now he's dead.

Anyone want to say anything about that?

I get it.

The conspiracy of subtle glances,

the distrust of outsiders, the tight-knit community.

Well, your silent voices don't scare me

and we're not Ieaving till we get the information we want, so start talking.

What was Terry doing here?

Tell me! Huh? Tell me!

OLDMAN: Jack!

You.

- Tell me! What was he doing here? - Jack, stop it!

Aaah!

Still silent, eh?

- Well, maybe you'll talk now! - Jack, no!

Eh? Maybe you'll all have something to tell me after I pull this trigger!

- Jack! - What do you think of that, eh?

Shout and shoot all you Iike.

- They won't understand. - Why not?

Because they're Danish.

Forpulede rmvhul!

Coach Ioad ofthem turned up this morning.

They're taking a break from all that depressing crime they gets back home.

- (MAN MUTFERS) - l'm very sorry...

- ...in Danish. - You, whafs your name?

They call me Villager 2.

Ring any bells?

Not since I Ieft the church Campanology Society.

And why did you Ieave?

I had a bit of a ding-dong, and the bells just stopped appealing.

- L'm a handyman these days. - Do you know this man?

Hm, yep, I seen him. Up at The Healery, he was.

Whafs The Healery, Villager 2?

It's a New Age treatment place at the top ofthe hill.

I done some repairs there myself.

Then I come home and done a poo.

Thafs not relevant, but I thought you'd appreciate knowing everything.

We do.

Qureshi, prepare some establishing chat on The Healery.

Yes, guv.

And I want it by the time I push over this stool.

The Healery, fashionable New Age treatment centre.

Staff, 19. Some older. Grounds, rolling.

Celebrity client rating, D-to-G list.

Proprietor, Damien Vull, 53, happy to show us around, but is...

Terribly busy, l'm afraid, so we'll have to keep this short.

This is my assistant, Blue.

- We understand. - VULL: Then let the tour commence.

Tickets, please.

CLOTH: What do you actually do here?

We make people better, by making them better.

- Like a hospital? - Not in the conventional sense, no.

At The Healery, we believe the brain is part ofthe body.

We specialise in improving spiritual muscle tone and overcoming addiction.

We can stop anyone from taking heroin almost instantaneously.

How?

Well, it's complex, but it mainly involves knocking the syringe out of their hand.

We also have a revolutionary approach to combating people overeating.

Revolutionary?

We spin people round till they vomit.

You can see the kind ofthing we do through here.

S0, this place is some kind of, er...rehab-cum-spa?

Rehab, yes. We had to shut down the cum-spa.

Clogged plugholes, unwanted pregnancies, that sor? ofthing.

But, look, this is Moon, our finest psychological masseuse.

Her sacral-cranial therapy can release knots

in even the most repressed of psyches.

We combine Western therapies with Ayurvedic philosophies,

harmonised with beliefs based on Zumba, Waybuloo and ancient Chinese wisdom.

CLOTH: Ancient Chinese! Where are they now, eh?

We're used to dealing with sceptics in the bullshit industry.

What is it exactly I can do for you, Inspector?

I want to know how my brother ended up with eight holes in him,

instead ofthe regulation seven.

Perhaps we should take this in my office.

Urethral opening counts, Asap.

We run a respectable business here.

There are no secrets. You can ask me whatever you Iike.

What do you know about the death of my brother?

I think l've answered enough of your questions, Inspector. Good day.

- CLOTH: Why was he here? - VULL: Sorry, I can't discuss clients.

- S0, he was a client? - I didn't say that.

- Well, say it now. - VULL: No.

AII of our clients enjoy complete confidentiality.

Many are extremely public figures who entrust with us their darkermost secrets.

Ask David Cameron.

Who isn't one ofthem.

Guv.

S0...

...why...was...he.?here?

Care for a round of Boggle, Inspector?

I don't have time for your games! Why was he here?

Terry was on our fam-angerment programme.

Fam-anger what?

It's a course for people who have unresolved fury against family members.

We enoourage the patients to fake their anger out

on a /ife-sized replica of the farni/y mernber who's done thern wrong.

Did Terry say which family member he had anger towards?

Fuck you, Jack! Fuck you, Jack!

I want a list of everyone who was on that course.

- Absolutely out of the question. - And I want it right now.

Or I will return with a warrant,

and you will have officers crawling over every inch ofthis place,

and when I say crawling, I mean walking!

They will tear this building Iimb from Iimb!

I think you've troubled us enough with your insinuations and your aftershave.

S0, if you wouldrft mind.

What?

Leaving. The room!

The Healery. Blue will see you out.

Come on.

Des, we're sending over a list of people who stayed at The Healery rehab spa.

We need to know who they are, where they are,

how they are, what they look Iike, and why.

- Yes, guv. - This is important, Des.

The whole plot cou/d turn on this.

Open the archives. Pull off every record you can.

Look to Newblood if you need help pulling off.

Will do.

- L'll be on this number. - (PHONE BEEPS)

Are we thinking these are potential suspects or potential victims, guv?

I don't know, but let's try and find out

before another dead body kills the suspense.

(PEN SQUEAKS)

Don't tap the keys.

Jushsqueeze them.

Thafs it.

Squeeze.

Squeeze.

Squeeze.

Or just tap it.

(SHE TAPS KEYBOARD)

OK.

Every person on this list from The Healery is accounted for,

except for this one -

Rowan Willow.

Rowan who-ow?

Rowan Willow. Willow.

Willow. Willow.

Willow. Willow.

Willow. Willow.

Willow. Willow.

Sorry. Got stuck on a word.

Deciduous willow tree.

The willow tree. He was pointing at a willow tree. It was a message!

- What do we know about Rowan Willow? - Brunette. Female. Caucasian.

Left The Healery about the same time as Terry, not been seen since.

There's nothing about her on the computer.

It's almost Iike she's been wiped from history

by a sinister figure at an establishment you've recently visited.

This has got to be Vull.

(WHIRRING AND BEEPING)

Alive-a-nator says this woman's still alive, guv.

But maybe not for long. OK, Des, Newblood, you two stay here.

Work on alternate theories and smouldering Iooks.

Come on, we've got to stop Vull

before he can do whatever he's gonna do to Rowan Willow.

Now!

- (BABY CRIES) - (MOCK LATIN CHANT)

Hold it, VUII! Police!

Nobody move!

(CHANT REACHES CRESCENDO)

- (CHANT STOPS) - (BABY CRIES)

Drop the knife!

- (KNIFE CLINKS) - And the chalice!

- (CHALICE CLUNKS) - And the baby!

- (CLUNK) - (CRYING STOPS)

- You're under arrest, Vull. - VULL: On what charge, Inspector?

Ritual slaughter without due care and attention.

There's no slaughter here, Inspector.

You killed Terry Cloth and now you're about to kill Rowan Willow!

This isn't Rowan Willow.

- This is Ivy Branch - Hello.

CLOTH: Well, then, you've already killed Rowan Willow.

Nonsense.

You butchered her in a ceremony!

Terry Cloth found out and you murdered him too!

- Absolute cockypop! - Face facts, Vull. lt's over!

N0, you face facts, Cloth. You've nothing to charge me with.

Jack. The ceremonial dagger still has the John Lewis security tag on it.

Shoplifting.

I say thafs enough to hold you for 48 hours,

and then I say arrest him, Qureshi.

- Arrest him, Qureshi. - Yes, guv.

(HANDCUFFS CLINK)

Come on.

(SNIFFS)

Come on!

HAIRIHAN: Shows about to begin.

- Is it Geordie Shore? - Something even better than that.

Jack's gonna crack Damien Vull.

This'll be Iike a psychological boxing match, with brains for fists.

He'll start by empathising with his twisted need to subjugate women.

And if that doesrft work?

He'll kick him in the bollocks.

With his mind.

- What did you do with Rowan Willow? - Rowan who-ow?

Rowan Willow!

Never seen that woman before in my Iife.

You killed her in one of your ceremonies.

I told you, Inspector, that ceremony you witnessed was strictly therapeutic.

We often encourage our patients to enact a Gothic ritual slaughtering,

right up to, but not including, the moment of death.

Makes the par?icipants feel good about themselves,

knowing that they couldrft do such a thing,

even though they've dressed as if they definitely would.

(BANGS ON TABLE) Liar!

I didn't expect you to understand. You're a simple man with simple tastes.

Never eaten a Guylian chocolate,

admired the paintings of Vettriano,

read any of the works of James Herben.

It must be a sad, sorry Iittle existence in there.

Would you Iike to see my bum, Inspector?

No.

Then I don't believe we have anything more to discuss.

NEWBLOOD: Vull's good.

Jack needs to forget about the pretty stuff and get stuck in.

Kammy, what do you make of it so far?

Unbelievable, Des.

Cloth has star?ed this interrogation slowly

and at this Ievel, you can't afford to do that.

Surely we're gonna see the introduction of Oldman at some point?

She'll be itching to get on. This is just her type of fixture.

Cloth needs to bring her on, get her running at Vull,

- making it personal. - OK. Looks Iike we're back on.

- Why do you hate women so much, Vull? - I Iove women.

Oh, come off it! You're a classic misogynist!

You don't have any respect for anything with knockers or a fanny.

I believe the medical term is quim, Inspector.

Look at her.

Look at her!

What do you see? Just another victim?

Some women are just asking to be sacrificed on an altar, arerft they?

- And she's one ofthem. - Stop this.

You can read her Iike a Kindle, can't you? Just push her buttons and see it all.

The childhood.

Not popular at school.

N0 friends, except for the other Iesbian-officers-in-waiting, of course.

VULL: Please, stop this.

CLOTH: Little Miss Proper! Little Miss Prim!

Little Miss Boohoo Shitty Childhood Bitch!

N0 wonder she signed up to the force,

Iooking for excitement, a thrill,

a tingle in the Ioins, maybe.

Yeah, thafs it.

It excites her, the danger of it,

that and the papervvork, and the scent of her commanding officer.

She slept with him, you know. She Ioved it!

She took off all her clothes and she slept with him in the nude!

- Don't. - Oh, yeah! He saw her bum and everything!

And where did it get her? Nowhere.

S0, how does she ease the pain? She drinks.

Oh, I know, all right. lt's no secret.

She Iaps vodka from toilets Iike a dog,

a dog that drinks, which dogs don't, but she does.

Imagine a drinking dog, with her stupid head on it, and her stupid female mouth,

and her stupid woman's tongue, and her ridiculous lady throat.

Sh?sjust... Aw, fuck it!

(BLOWS RASPBERRIES)

For God's sake, man, stop it! Can't you see she's upset?

She's only a woman, for God's sake!

I mean, you've humiliated her so much, she can't even speak for herself.

She'll probably run out ofthe room any second, poor thing.

See?

(GASPS)

(soBS)

Jack, you bastard!

Are you all right in there, Oldman?

"Old-man."

Are you all right in there, Old Man?

Just...could you get me some more paper?

- A3 or A4? - (GLASS SMASHES)

What was that?

Just...a porcelain shit.

- Oh. - Nothing to worry about.

- (SNIFFS) - (TOILET FLUSHES)

- Are you OK? - (SIGHS)

lt's not easy, being a woman in this environment.

- The Iadies' toilets? - There's a glass ceiling.

Oh, thafs disgusting.

Boys down the station see us as sex objects or harridans.

They won't let us be both.

You shouted something about Jack.

It's nothing. I...

l...We...

lt's OK.

I wee in toilets too.

(SNIFFS)

Jack and I have got a history.

The kind of history you don't read about in books.

At least, not on public transport.

You mean you two...

We had sex, Iike a pair of idiots.

You mean while gurgling and clapping your hands?

He was the best lover I ever had, until it went pear-shaped.

- Had he banged it on something? - And now every time I see him,

my hear? wants to put its head on my shoulder and cry from the inside.

- Do you know that feeling? - Yes. Yes.

N...

I lost my dad when I was young.

- (SNIFFS) - l'm sorry to hear that.

(SNIFFS)

Did he die slowly?

- (SOBS) - l'm sorry. lt's none of my business.

Don't cry.

It's just so raw, you know? (SNIFFS)

l'm sure if he was Iooking at you right now, he'd be ever so proud of you.

Anne. Anne! I had to say those things in there.

I had to make Vull think that I thought the way he does, through a mad brain!

It didrft Work, did it?

Look, I can break him,

if you'll just come back in there with me for a few more hours,

let me harangue you in front of him.

- What if he didn't do it? - Vull killed Rowan Willow.

- L'm cer?ain of it! - There's not even a body.

Ah, because Terry knew where it was and he's dead now, thanks to Vull.

Don't you see? Vull had him killed

- to cover up his death cult! - Jack!

There's no way those towers could have collapsed Iike that!

It was a controlled demolition! John, George, Ringo, they all knew!

- Thafs why Paul's barefoot on the cover! - Jack!

Listen to yourself!

This is madness.

You've let it get personal, Jack.

What will it take to convince you that Vull's innocent?

Another murder?

Is that what you want to see, the moment I walk away?

Well, is it?

SILKY POSH VOICE: This is Radio 3.

And now lkea Johanssonb Requiem For An Unsuspecting Victim.

(CLASSICAL MUSIC)

(CREAKING)

Hello?

(DOOR SHUTS)

- (APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS) - Hello?

- (FOOTSTEPS) - Hello?

- (FOOTSTEPS CONTINUE) - Hello?

Oh, Marmoset.

You'll be the death of me one day.

(MARMOSET MIAOWS)

(SUPPRESSED GUNSHOT)

(HAUNTING MUSIC)

BOSS: There you are. Cloth.

L've had Damien Vull's Iawyer in my ear for the past hour.

Don't Iie. He'd never fit!

Vuil is an important and influential member of society.

You can't simply toss accusations of murder at him Iike peas at a goose.

- This isn't an episode of Cracker. - But...

cracker, Jack.

This is personal, Torn.

S0 is Ed Milibands anus, and I don't want to see that in my workplace either.

- Pull yourself together or hit the road. - But...

Hit the road, Jack.

Guv! We've found a body.

- Rowan Willow? - No.

But it's dead, guv. lt's the same MO as Terry.

- Time of death? - lt's too early to say.

(TUTS AND SUCKS LIPS)

- And now? - Sometime in the last few hours.

(SIGHS) Vull's been here all day.

It can't have been him. The victim, who is he?

It's nota he, sir. lt's a she, sir. lt's your ex, sir.

It's Deborah, sir.

Sweet Val/ey High.

I warn you, she's a ripe one.

I thought the time of death was only a few hours ago.

It was, but she was found under an electric blanket switched to maximum,

with the central heating on.

The air con in the meat wagon broke down when they brought her in

and she was inadver?ently Ieft on a plate warmer instead of in a refrigeration unit.

I know women are putty in your hands, Jack, but this one...

Huh! She's just putty.

CLOTH: S/ade In F/arne/

- Think you can handle it? - Mm-hm.

Bullet entered the cranium,

although the hole has softened, so we can't tell much from the wound,

and the bullet appears to have Iodged elsewhere in the body.

The easiest way is to go in through the ribs,

a bit easier

since the foxes appear to have broken into the flat and already had a go.

Them again?

(WHIRRING)

(GRINDING)

(WHIRRING STOPS)

As you can see,

she seems to have eaten quite a few internal organs before dying.

Ah.

They've had a good snack on the Ieft arm.

Almost hollowed out.

Looks Iike she'd already been doused in an acid bath.

Signs of burns here and here.

Nothing in the throat.

Now, let mejust do this for absolutely no reason.

(SHE COUGHS)

(GASPS)

Anyway, no idea who she is.

Just thought you'd be interested. Your victim's just over here.

Clean and efficient, and the bullet matches Terry's.

- She was shot with the same gun. - My God.

Jack, this has nothing to do with The Healery.

My brother and my brothefis ex-girlfriend.

Ah! Come on, Jack, think.

You were close to both ofthem. Nobody knew them better than you.

- Who connects them? - ASAF': Guv...

This was Ieft on the body.

Why are you wearing X's?

Those were added after this photo was taken, Des.

Don't you see? l'm the link.

Whoever killed Terry and Deborah, they're telling me l'm next.

I understand l'm free to Ieave, Inspector.

L'd Iike to say it's been a pleasure

but, for some reason, I haverft been scripted to do so.

And if you've been affected by any ofthe issues arising from my interrogation...

...here's a card for The Healery.

You can't hide behind a bottle, you know.

(WHISPERS) Because it's transparent.

CLOTH: OK. Recap.

Let's speak out Ioud what we know so far,

even though we clearly all know it, because we're all saying it in turn.

- First victim, Terry Cloth. - My brother.

- Shot dead in a forest. - No trace of semen on the body.

Two weeks after vanishing from The Healery.

A sor? of New Age treatment centre.

- Run bythis man. - Damien Vull.

- Also missing from The Healery. - Rowan Willow.

- N0 trace of semen on the body. - Yesterday, we found another corpse.

- Terry's ex-girlfriend. Your ex-lover. - Deborah.

- Shot with the same... - Gun as...

- Terry. - N0 trace of semen on the body.

- Which means the next target... - For our killer...

- Is almost cer?ainly... - Me, Jack Cloth.

- L'm the new girl. - N0 trace of semen on the body.

Thafs what I look Iike in a hat.

- And now we're... - Entering...

- The... - Inci...

- Dent... - Room.

OK! Listen up!

Take a look at our murderefis next intended victim!

Thafs right. l'm the target.

S0, we can probably assume that everyone close to me is at risk.

(SIGHS)

We treat this Iike any other protection operation.

This man gets murdered over my dead body.

We need to know everything there is about this guy.

How tall he is, who has he slept with, who does he want to sleep with.

But something, call it the job, if you Iike, keeps getting in the way.

There's some stuff I can tell you about him you might not know already.

He has a secret pornography obsession, which he's terrified'll come out one day.

He's haunted by the death of his wife, whatever her name was.

And he keeps making these weird spelling mistakes when people are watching.

(PEN SQUEAKS)

Whoever carried out these crimes has a grudge against these two men,

and it's only gonna escalate.

S0 far, he's only targeted people that we scarcely know.

We've gotta catch him before he graduates to regular characters.

S0. we've gotta go door to door,

put feelers out, compile a list of everybody who hates me.

Could be a long list.

S0, use a small font size if you have to, but keep it Iegible,

nothing smaller than 7-point, alphabetical, with pictures.

Come on, people! Let's go, before someone else gets killed.

Ifthis killer of yours really is bumping off your close associates,

I could be next.

- Well, let's hope it comes to that. - S0, you'd better catch this maniac

before I turn up dead, or l'll be furious.

S0, get searching.?from the deepest quarry to the highest steeple.

- But... - Steeple, Jack.

Female. Early 30s. Caucasian.

Approximately five foot seven inches tall.

Long, Iight-brown hair. Slim build.

Likes farmers' markets, musicals, curling up with a DVD.

I suppose l'm Iooking for someone who can make me Iaugh.

Thafs the most important thing.

And an interest in forensic pathology would be great.

Photos preferable. E-mail... NatSash@TownMorgue.gov

(CLICK)

(CREAK)

Is somebody there?

(CLATFERING)

Hello?

(PANTS)

PS, send help.

- (CLICK) - Please!

Not the face! It has sentimental value.

(SHE SOBS)

- Natasha sachet, forensic pathologist. - I knowthat, Asap!

- Worked at the City of Town Police... - That too.

- Friends with... - Know it!

- Lived in a... - Got it!

- Had a... - Yes, yes!

I didn't actually say anything, so maybe you didrft...

- I know that! - But she's not...

Thanks, Qureshi! Thafs enough!

Aberdeen Angus!

Natasha!

Oh, no! Oh!

Why you?

Why not someone else, Iike Qureshi,

or Hairihan, or him over there and his wife and kids?

Or me! Why not take me?!

Because no-one can take you anywhere, Jack.

You're...not dead.

As far as I can tell, no.

Bullet entered the body here, just below the Ieft clavicle apex.

I was Iucky. One centimetre to the right and l'd be in the morgue.

- Any trace of semen on the body? - Not yet.

- Did you see the gun? - N0, but I kept a souvenir.

It felt Iike a .22.

Same bullet that killed your brother.

Same bullet that killed Deborah.

And, judging by the barrel marks, fired from the same gun.

- Did you see who did it? - l'll ask the questions!

What she said.

Only for a second.

I saw a motorcycle helmet.

And then...urrggh!

Natasha? Natasha?

Medio! Natasha? Natasha?

- Natasha. - MEDIC: Coming through.

One, two, three, lift.

Get them, Jack, before they get someone you really care about.

Witch!

- Victim. - Bollock.

Ponce.

Make sure she gets the best medical care the state can provide!

L'll pay for it out of my taxes!

(SIGHS)

Things just got personaler.

OLDMAN: Natasha?

You said she was just a human you worked near.

Unless you had...history.

There was chemistry.

And biology?

(SIGHS) With double physics.

(BOTH GROAN)

How long did it go on for?

Oh, two, maybe three minutes.

Don't judge me, Anne. My wife had just died, for God's sake!

My mind was elsewhere.

Uh! Uh!

Oh! Mm! Mm!

She wanted more, but l said no and that was that.

There was gossip, of course, but we stayed professional,

never let it affect our work.

Even though everyone knew.

Not everyone.

- Anne, please! - You and Natasha!

The boys down the station used to talk about all the notches on your bedpost.

They never said anything about you sleeping with women.

It was just sex.

Intimate, ear?hy sex, up to, and including, ejaculation.

Don't paint me a picture.

Look, you want to see the photos on my phone?

You'll see how Iittle it meant.

L've got this blank look on my face, Iike a bored horse staring at a fence post,

even as l'm watching it go in.

I don't want to see anything! I just want it all to go away.

Not just you, all of it, all the death and the pain and the anguish

and all the endless striding down corridors

just to get a bit of bloody movement into things!

(SOBS) I can't stand it any more!

N0, Anne, don't.

L'll do it, Jack. I swear I will.

What are you gonna do?

Climb inside that bottle and stay there for the rest of your Iife?

(SIGHS) l've tried. You'll never get your hips through the neck.

I just don't know what to do.

- Oh! - l'm sorry.

L'm so sorry.

(SHE SOBS)

Oh...

Oh.

It's OK.

It's all right.

- (DOOR OPENS) - (JACK GRUNTS)

(CLEARS THROAT)

Yeah, what is it?

Qureshi. Said he's been through the files and he's drawn a total blank.

It's all on there.

Good work.

Listen.

We're all exhausted. Go home, pour yourself a glass of wine and go to bed.

- And drink it in the morning? - If it helps.

To be honest, with all the killings, l'm nerveus about going home on my own.

L'm sure Des won't mind Iooking after you.

I didn't realise it was that obvious.

(ROMANTIC MUSIC)

You and Des?

You have my blessing.

- Who are you, her dad? - N0, her boss,

and she's an impressive young woman who's done well in her first week.

Take the night off, Kerry. Have fun. Don't get killed.

- You deserve it. - Thank you.

CLOTH: And Kerry.

Be careful.

Iwill.

Oh!

You're going soft.

Anne, you need help with the drinking.

I can unscrew bottles just fine on my own.

One day you won't.

Next thing you know, you'll be smashing bottles in your mouth to get to the drink,

and then it's too late.

Take some time off and dry out.

OK?

(SNIFFS)

(SIGHS)

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello?

Put her through.

How can I help, Ms Oldman?

How can I help, Ms Old Man?

I need to clean up. I wanna check in and sor? my Iife out.

Oh, thafs excellent news.

Blue will prepare a bed for you now.

(BLADE RINGS)

Looks Iike we have a new client.

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Ha-ha-ha!

Ha-ha-ha-ha!

(CLEARS THROAT)

(SIGHS)

Just spoke to Jack.

He said we should take the night off, not get murdered,

and come in tomorrow, refreshed.

Nice one. Pint?

Yeah, why not?

Actually, Des, Iwasthinking we could do something.

Shove your pint.

What did you have in mind?

Well, there's this sor? of harrowing film at the Guardiman Cinema.

It's meant to be good.

I Iove harrowing. lt's a hobby of mine.

OK.

Well...it's a date.

Just gotta...you know.

And maybe have a shit.

- Good Iuck. - Where are you going?

L'm...

sor?ing myself out.

L've lost focus recently. Everythings a blur.

- S0, you're... - Going to The Healery.

Just for a few days.

OK.

(CRUNCH)

MAN: Where's the baby?

- Where's that lift/e baby?! - WOMAN: l don? know/

MAN: Take the syringe out of your eye and answer me!

WOMAN: l said l don 't know/

MAN: You sold hirn, didrfi you? You sold the baby for Smack!

You make rne sick! You wanna know how sick you make me, eh? Here!

Wuh/ B/eugh/ B/eugh/

(MAN RETCHES)

WOMAN: Wha?s this? Wha?s this in your pocket?

MAN: lt's a bit of fake-home, innit?

- WOMAN: N0, it's a baby's leg! - MAN: lt's nota leg!

WOMAN: You ate hirn! You ate the baby

- and you tried to b/arne me! - MAN: ldidn?!

- S0... - S0?

Look, Des, I would Iove to invite you upstairs, but...

But this car hasrft got an upstairs.

It's not that. I just want to take it slowly.

L've got one ofthem cock rings.

Keeps you from barking your yop

- for a good 20 minutes. - I mean...us.

L'm not quite ready yet.

- Shall we give it ten minutes? - Let's just take it one step at a time.

Night, Des.

Night, Kerry.

HAIRIHAN: AII right, Joanne?

Iam...

Anne OId-man.

And l'm a drinkaholic.

We overlooked you, Rowan Willow.

Surely you must hold the key.

But where are you?

Excuse me. l'm just Iocking the station up for the night.

Rowan? Are you Rowan Willow?

- Rowan who-ow? - Rowan Willow?

N0, l'm Knott. WPC Julie Knott.

But this is your photo.

Someone's printed that off my Facebook.

But if you're KnotLthen who's...?

Cocks in aspic!

(BIKE REVS)

(SIGHS)

(RINGING TONE)

- Come on, Anne. Pick up, pick up. - (PHONE BEEPS)

Hi, it's DC Anne O/d-man.

l aan? corne to the phone, because rny life is in danger, but leave a short message.

(SOFTLY) Damn it.

(MUFFLED CRIES)

(GRoANS)

(MOCK LATIN CHANT)

N0, Vull!

- You don't have to do this! - I don't want to. You must die.

- (RINGING TONE) - Come on, Des. Pick up, pick up.

(PHONE RINGS)

Guv?

Des, it's me. Hang on, Des, hang on a minute.

(SIREN BLARES)

Des, you still there? Listen.

You've gotta get to The Hea/ery now. Anne's in danger.

- What sor? of danger? - The dangerous kind!

(PHONE BEEPS)

I can't! I can't! You'll just have to shoot me.

- (SUPPRESSED GUNSHOT) - (SCREAMING)

(PANTS)

If you're gonna kill me, at least let me see your face so I can rate it out of ten.

- (PHONE RINGS) - Cheers, thanks for the tip.

Guv? Caught me on my second job.

Asap, I know who the killer is!

- Who is it? - Meet me at The Healery ASAF', Asap.

(GASPS)

(PANTS)

Hello, Oldman.

"Old-man."

Hello, Old Man.

And goodbye.

There's a Iion behind you!

L'm not falling for that.

They trained you well at the academy.

L've never been to the academy. I don't even know who an academy is.

- What? - I forged my papers.

Why?

To get close to him. To Jack.

- Why are you obsessed with Jack? - Why are you obsessed with Jack?

- Who says I am? - Who says I am?

You shot three people to get close to him.

N0, you shot three people to get close to him.

- N0, I didrft. - And neither did I!

Oh! Jack!

Drop the gun, Newblood! lt's over!

I know who you are. I know you're Rowan Willow.

Rowan Willow was a pseudonym, just Iike Kerry Newblood.

Then if you're not either one ofthem then which one of you are you?

- I knew you'd come. - I haverft come in months.

Isn't it embarrassing when your parents talk about sex?

What?

Oh, my God. Jack?

Yes.

L'm your daughter.

I don't have a daughter.

I don't have kids of any flavour, or race!

They don't even have heads, my kids, because I don't have any!

You're my daddy.

My big...

strong. ..daddy.

Jack! You're not fantasising. This is real!

Well, then, if l'm yourfather, whds...

Jill, of course.

She was pregnant when she had that accident, when you betrayed her.

- (BABY CRIES) - She left town and gave bir?h to rne

in a bin/

She never forgave you for the indignity of that.

- Bastard. - She hated you.

What was Daddy?

A big bastard.

NEWBLOOD: Fi//ed rny head with poison frorn the very first moment.

She refused to tel/ rne who you were. She wou/dn? even speak your name.

But she left rne in no doubt what she thought about you.

Bastard! Arsehole!

She litera/ly never stopped s/agging you off...

nota pause for breath between 1987 and 2011.

She went to her grave

- complaining about you. - How do you know?

Because I buried her alive.

JILL: You know who's to blame for this, don't you?

Just cou/dn? stand it any more.

JILL: lt's your dad! lt's your dad! Your dad!

- It all happened because of your dad! - Sti/l, l never knew who you were.

- (THUNDERCLAP) - l was lost. Desperate.

Sor? of sexy.

l thought they'd find Murn's body, so l went on the run and carne here.

Checked in as Rowan Willow,

and thafs when I met Terry in the fam-angerment support group.

Terry had deep-seated issues with his brother.

He was werking thern through...

?Inaking rea/ progress.

There was just sornething about hirn.

We sat up till dawn, talking,

me about the dad l'd never met, him about the brother who'd betrayed him.

And after a while, he said there was sornething fami/iar about me.

My accent. The hand l drank with.

The way l held guns under rny chin.

Even the wa y l got erections.

Soon we rea/ised...

...we were ta/king about the sarne person.

You knew it was me just from that?

That and the DNA test.

Yeah.

And now l knew rny fathe?s name,

and the more l spewed rny hatred, the more worried Terry became.

S0, he set out to warn you.

L put on a pair of special/y padded bike leathers l 'd had made

so anyone watching rne in an ear/ier sequence wou/d assurne l was ma/e...

?and l set after hirn.

- (SUPPRESSED GUNSHOT) - l shot hirn...

forged some police papers, and came to find you.

I knew I had to cover my tracks from The Healery.

S0, l swapped rny file photo with sorneone e/se's while Des was...

preoccupied.

And there you all were... (CHUCKLES)

Searching for Rowan Willow, when she was right beside you all the time!

Why didn't you just kill Jack when you had the chance?

That was my plan.

But the more time I spent with you, I realised

at last...

I had the gruff, distant, uncaring father figure l'd always craved.

I wanted you all to myself.

But first I had to kill everyone who Ioved you!

- Deborah. - (GUNSHOTS)

Natasha.

- (GUNSHOT) - Jenny.

Who's Jenny?

Oh, she looked at you funny

frorn that lecture you did that/ wasn? at.

Oh.

And finally...her.

L'm going to kill her.

For you, Daddy, for you.

You may be my daughter, but l'll shoot you Iike you're my own son!

- (GUN COCKS) - N0, you werft, guv.

Oh, Des, don't!

Shoot her, and l'll shoot you first.

I Iove her, guv.

I Iove her...

...guv.

Don't do it, Des!

Why not?

Because QureshPs pointing a gun at you.

Can't let you shoot Jack, Des.

- (GUN COCKS) - Stop using words.

Come on, Des, think. This isn't you.

It's another Des, someone who's forgotten who the good guys are!

How did he get my warrant card and trousers?

I don't know!

Liar! It is me!

Seems we've reached an improbable standoff.

You can put a stop to it all.

(WHISPERS) Kerry, just put the gun down.

N0, you can put a stop to all ofthis, Daddy, by telling her you don't Iove her.

Oh!

Look her in the eye and say, "l don't Iove you, Oldman."

"Old-man."

Look her in the eye and say, "l don't Iove you, Old Man."

(WHISPERS) And l'll spare her Iife. Go on.

Say it. Come on, Daddy, say it. Say it!

No.

Then she dies!

- (GUN COCKS) - Not if I die first!

- N0, Daddy! No! - I'II do it!

You say you Iove me then drop the gun, or l'll do it!

God, so help me!

L'll blast myself into the afterlife quicker than you can say, "Buh"!

(GRUNTS)

Do it.

- (GUN COCKS) - No!

Goodbye, Daddy.

Don't.

Just Iike you taught me, Des.

(WHIMPERS)

Just squeeze and...

(MELANCHOLY MUSIC DROWNS SPEECH)

(CHAT?ER OVER POLICE RADIO)

She's Iucky. The bullet only obliterated an unimpor?ant part ofthe brain.

With some Dettol and a Iie-down, she should survive,

but she'll be watching TV through a straw for the rest of her Iife.

It seems I owe you an apology, Cloth.

Let's keep it that way.

I want to visit her, make sure she's OK.

BOSS: Huh! l'm having her sent to a specialist unit in Monterrey.

- But thafs thousands of miles... - Monterrey, Jack.

You'll probably never be sufficiently arsed to ever see her again.

She's my daughter.

Who just tried to sacrifice your partner on an altar.

- But... - An altar, Cloth.

CLOTH: What about Des?

Pulling a weapon on a superior officer is an unforgivable offence.

Luckily, you're inferior. He'll be back at work in a for?night, back in the saddle.

- But... - The saddle, Cloth.

- Well, I won't. l'm finished. - What do you mean?

You'll have my resignation on your desk tomorrow morning.

Jack, wait.

L'm working from home tomorrow. Have it couriered to my house instead.

The postcode is CNT42PJ.

- But... - J...CIoth.

Jack, wait!

You have to go round that bit.

Jack, wait!

(SIGHS) It must be hard to gain a daughter then Iose her again so fast...

?almost Iike never having had her at all,

except for the few moments when you did,

until she shot herself in the head with a gun, right in front of you.

I wasn't much of a father to her.

Or to you.

Jack, about before, when she tried to get you to say that you didn't Iove me.

Yeah, what about it?

Did you mean what you didn't say?

Every word.

And every letter of every word and every sound those letters made,

which were the words I mentioned at the start.

L've always Ioved you, Oldman.

"Old-man."

l've always Ioved you, Old Man.

And I always will.

But it won't work.

L've done too much, seen too much, been too much.

Everyone close to me dies.

And I can't let that happen to you.

Jack, wait!

- N0, Anne, don't! - I Iearnt this from you.

Blowing your brains out won't solve anything, and it'll really sting.

Oh, Jack!

Neither of us have anything wor?h living for except the other,

which in my case is you.

You care that much?

More than dialogue can say.

- (GUNSHOT) - MAN: Aaah! Aaah!

MAN 2: Oh, my God! Quick, help! Over here! He's been shot!

(BOTH GASP AND PANT)

Oh, my God! lt's my sister.

L'm gonna bloody kill her, you bastard bitch!

- Asap, no! This is out of character! - Aaargh!

- What the hell is it? - I don't know!

Aaah!

I am the fruit of your Ioin!

- But... - Your Ioin, Cloth!

Do you want to see my bum, eh? Do you want to see my bum?

You want to see my arse? Is that it? Here! Have a look at that, then!

Yeah, thafs it!

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