All language subtitles for silent.witness.18e02.dvdrip.x264-haggis

Help!

My husband's been shot!

Get down, everyone! I've got you.
I'm not letting go.

Three people shot dead
at a service station.

For God's sake!

The car park was really empty,

but it pulled up close,
with the boot facing us.

Stabbing of the buttocks
is associated with '"shaming'" injuries.

Humiliation
rather than serious injury.

Who did you piss off, Steven?

Victimology says he's the odd one out.

Martin Cross?

Has the gunman made any contact
with the police yet?

No comment.

Well, you give me a call
if you need to talk about anything, OK?

Thanks, Jack.

Hannah Smithson.

Her fianc� still thinks he's got
a wedding rehearsal this afternoon.

I will strike anywhere, any time.

I can't control myself.

Close all the schools.

Tell the public.

# Testator silens

# Costestes e spiritu

# Silentium. #

Such a long way from the other
shootings in southwest London.

But doable. Fair wind
on the ring road, 30 minutes or so.

Given his threat,

doesn't that make schools near
the M25 especially vulnerable?

Yeah. Vulnerable and numerous.

We can't throw a net around that.

We've traced the call to another
payphone out in the sticks.

Won't get CCTV.

Might get a witness.
I'll have the phone printed

and swabbed for DNA - that one, too.

No sign of his nest?

The shot came from that direction.

- I think it's a rerun of Hannah Smithson.
- Fired from the boot of his car?

And he's back to clean, single-shot kills.
Back in control.

So maybe your theory holds good.

Maybe him, the threat to the schools,

it's just to distract us from the victim
that really counts.

Martin Cross?

- Possibly.
- His name's Alain Gontrard.

He's a long-distance lorry driver
from Poitiers.

This one's got to be random,
or we call Interpol.

Waitress in the caf� said it was
supposed to be his week off.

He had to step in for another
driver at the last minute.

I'm so sorry I'm late.

Oh, yeah,
I take that as read, Gabby.

It's my youngest,
she doesn't like the new nanny.

You need to get your priorities
sorted out.

Some kids on dirt bikes
almost collided with a dark Volvo

on the service road over the hill.

- We're checking for cameras now.
- Any description on the driver?

Sorry.

Nothing?

I was happy with '"Volvo'".

Oh, save me!

I've spoken to
the Commissioner's office

and we are not going public
about the specific threat to children.

OK.

Anything else?

I can't stress this enough -

muzzle your team around the media.

My team have got better things to do.

Don't bet on it.

Do you agree with that?

Not going public about
the threat to kids?

'"Close all the schools'"? It's not
a demand he can expect us to meet.

Well, tell that to the parents
of the first child he kills

when it gets out he also said,
'"Tell the public.'"

Schools start at nine o'clock.

It's going-home time
we need to worry about.

And break time, and lunch hour,
and games.

Sorry, ma'am, I'm just giving you
a parent's perspective on this.

Ripped By mstoll

Is this bastard invisible or what?

Last night, you told me
he was unravelling.

The disorganisation of
the fifth shooting suggested that.

Now it looks like a blip.

- A blip?
- The pathology suggests

the Martin Cross shooting
might've been personal.

And the corollary of that
is that the sniper

is now trying to hide the body
in the bodies.

- Oi, get off!
- We're going to handle the press, Jane.

What?

You need to focus on the investigation -
I've got this.

Hold on. Hold on.

This is my case.

I'm freeing you up, Jane.

Six people are dead
and you don't even have a suspect.

The investigation's being characterised
as reactive and we're struggling

to challenge that view.

What about the threat to schools?

It stays under wraps.
Impress that on your team.

Are you sure it's the right move?

We can't keep every kid in London
at home under lock and key.

Oh, come on, if we had kids,
that's exactly where they'd be.

Sorry, I really wasn't trying to
tug on your heartstrings there.

We really think you need
to focus back on Martin Cross.

We just canvassed his entire street.

Neighbours haven't got a bad thing
to say about him.

Did the barbecue at the annual
street party, blah blah blah.

These the same neighbours
who didn'treport his domestic violence?

OK, we can't prove that.

But we pulled hospital records
for Sheila Cross.

Way more falls
than a supposedly healthy 41-year-old

should typically sustain.

And her son Craig broke his arm
last Christmas,

supposedly falling off his bike.

Look, Martin Cross may have been
the most abusive husband

and father in history -
I still don't have a suspect!

Look, Sheila Cross is a recluse. OK?
She's got no brothers,

no sisters, no close friends to speak of,

no... secret lover. No obvious candidate
that would shed blood

- in her name.
- Then we need to look closer.

We're taking the surveillance
off her house.

- What?!
- We have to.

It's all hands on deck until school's out.

You can't possibly begin
to cover every school in London.

No, best we can do is a shortlist
based on a geographic profile.

OK. We know someone
who can help there.

Thank you.

Thanks for letting me come round,
Mrs Cross.

Why do you need to get in there?

Martin synced his phone to a laptop,

but it's not in his office at school,
and it wasn't in his bag.

Right.

So... I thought it might be in here.

Where did Martin
put these smoke alarms?

All over the house.

Do you know why he chose a model
with an in-built camera?

No.

What are you looking for?

Sheila, I can't imagine
what you're going through...

but I need your help.

My help?

I need to know why you were admitted
to Maldon General Hospital 12 times

in the last five years.

I need to know about the real Martin.

He was a wonderful husband.

I'm sure he was.

Sometimes.

It's the other times I'm talking about.

The news says this man's
killing people at random.

It was just bad luck.

I don't think so.

Martin was a bully, wasn't he?

And bullies make enemies.

Was there?

Was there another teacher at school
he fell out with?

Or harmed in some way?

He wasn't... like that
with anyone else.

Just me.

What about Craig?

Last Christmas, Martin was passed over
for Head of Sport and Craig broke his arm.

- Were those two things related?
- Craig fell off his bike.

When it was just you, you could find a way
to grin and bear it.

But with Craig...

...your own son,

your baby...

I understand. I do.

Your fear was so deep-rooted,

you couldn't call the police,
but you must've turned to someone.

You want to know who I turned to?

A bottle of whisky.

One a night until his cast came off.

It was easier then -
I didn't have a big hunk of plaster

reminding me
what a useless mother I was.

And who did Craig turn to?

Craig's always been very independent.

But he's a kid.

He just stayed out of Martin's way.

You mean, he stayed out of the house?

- Where'd he go?
- I don't know.

The park, shopping centre...

Alone?

With his mates from school, I suppose.

Have you met these '"mates from school'"?

- Do they have names?
- I can't...

Leave me alone.

OK. As we know,
the victim dispersal suggests

the sniper's comfort zone is around
the southwest corner of the M25.

What if he knows all about comfort zones
and decides to go somewhere else?

I'm not going to pretend otherwise -
these are my best educated guesses

based on the information available.

Also, the intelligence we've put out on
the Volvo could've caused him to dump it.

He could now be on foot,
on a bike, in a van. Assume nothing.

Well, if he can kill from a over a mile
away, what chance have we got, anyway?

What, of catching him? Not much.

Deterring him's another story.

These four schools represent
the most vulnerable locations.

Camberley High School,

St Arthur's, Sunbury,

St Benedict's Roman Catholic School,
Epsom,

and Weybridge Primary School.

How long before the exodus?

Five minutes.

I hope Clarissa called it right.

Not much uniform about, is there?

Discreet units at all vantage points.
We don't want to scare the kids.

Going down the private route with yours,
I suppose?

Piss off, Jim, I'm not in the mood.

Ladies and gentlemen, excellent work.

Tidy up. Put your coats on.
It's time to go.

Hello, Rosie, it's Dad.
Where are you, my love?

I'm at school.

I know you're at school, I mean...

Look, I'm, er... I'm standing at the gate.

Dad, what are you doing here?

Listen, I need you to do me a favour.

- What is it?
- Mum'll be here any minute, um...

Just... just go and wait for her
in the library.

The library?

Yes. Will you do that for me, please?

OK. Whatever.

Excuse me.

Excuse me?

Excuse me!

School's out here, too.

Footage from Martin and Sheila's bedroom

is a non-event...

Hmm. Almost.

Looks like he heard a noise.
Suspected burglar, maybe?

False alarm.

So? He's security conscious.
Maybe a bit paranoid.

If he was security conscious,
he'd have the lights and cameras

- on the outside of his house.
- He doesn't?

- No.
- So could this be

about the enemy within,
not the enemy without?

Don't see how. His wife uses a walking
stick to get about, and Craig's a kid.

But given that he installed a camera
in Craig's room, it's possible...

No. This is about control.

This is about Martin Cross

keeping tabs on his family,
even while they slept.

This is Craig's bedroom.

Nothing noteworthy so far.

He goes to bed,

he sleeps, he wakes up.

I forgot.

He does press-ups.

He's stronger than he looks.

Martin Cross was 6ft, 190lbs.

There's no way Craig
was any kind of threat to him.

I don't get it.
What's this all about?

Good evening, everybody.

I'm Chief Superintendant Robert Drake.
I'd like to thank you all

for coming here this evening,
I know it's an incredibly difficult time.

I just want to say that
everyone in the Force,

from the Commissioner down,
feels your grief and pain.

And we're bringing every resource
to bear to catch this man.

Don't add insult to injury!

We all know what this is about.
You want us onside

cos you don't want us bitching to
the media if you can't catch the bastard.

Sorry, sir, I didn't catch your name.

Ian Cross.

- Martin's brother?
- Yeah.

I can't prove my sincerity to you, Ian,

but I have a brother,
and if anyone hurt him,

much less killed him,
I'd want to rip the guy's heart out.

So you can bitch to whoever you want,

- and I won't hold it against you.
- Masterful.

And he doesn't even
have a brother.

- This is not a PR exercise.
- Classic only child.

God, I hope that doesn't get out!

What's funny?

...and we're working night and day,
and we will catch this man.

We've had over 300 possible sightings
of the suspect

and none of them have stood up.

- Hello.
- Hey, Craig.

Hi. Nikki.

What do you do, Nikki?

I'm a pathologist.

You cut up dead bodies for a living?

Yeah. That's about the size of it.

Did you come with your uncle, Craig?

No. Um...

...we don't really get along.

What about your mum, is she here?

She didn't feel up to it.
I'm representing her.

Are you feeling up to it?

I don't think it's sunk in yet.

Dr Alexander...

Yes.

Just wanted to say thank you.

Camera was only set to record nights,

but I don't think his dad
saw this footage.

What's he doing?

Some kind of signal, maybe?

Girlfriend lurking in the bushes?

Supposed to be the other way round,
isn't it?

It's a shame for Craig that Martin's wife
couldn't make it tonight.

Yeah, well, there's wives,
and there's wives.

Sheila's got a problem with this...

but even before she had that excuse,
she was a waste of space.

What about their son?

- Will he be OK?
- Oh, yeah.

Craig'll be fine.
Don't worry about Craig.

My brother gave that kid everything,

but he was always a mummy's boy,
always took her side.

It broke Martin's heart.

Every day, it broke his bloody heart.

Sorry, what did?

The lack of appreciation.

'"The lack of appreciation'"?

It was all for them -
the marathons, the fundraisers,

the shaking buckets outside Tesco's

on a Sunday morning...
He didn't want an award off the Queen!

He wanted his wife
and his son to be proud of him.

Hang on. Go back.

Just before he switches the torch off.

What's that in the drawer?

Hell!

I can't see him...
I'll call you back. Thanks, Thomas.

- Where's Craig?
- I don't know. Why?

The hidden camera shows bullets
in his bedside drawer.

- What?! That's impossible.
- Why impossible?

First, the quality of that footage
is abysmal.

Second, he's 16 - where the hell
would he get bullets from?

Let's find out.

- What are you doing?
- Offering him a lift. Craig?

Can we give you a lift home?

OK.

- Thanks.
- We'll see you in.

Oh, no. There's no need.
But thanks anyway.

The house is dark.
I thought you said your mum was home?

She must've changed her mind.

Could we come in for a minute?
Just want to see you're OK.

- I'm fine.
- I would love a cup of tea. Jack?

- Would you like a cup of tea?
- Sure.

- That's a nice...
- No, no! That's Dad's chair.

- Sorry.
- Are you going to make us some tea?

Sorry, no milk.

Black's OK.

No teabags.

Don't worry about it.
We'll be on our way.

You must've been very proud
of your dad that day.

Of course I was.

Or did you just feel...

frustration?

- Despair?
- What?

The gap between the man the world saw

and the man he really was

- was wider than ever.
- Come on, let's go.

- I loved my dad.
- Nikki!

So why were you so scared just now
when Jack tried to sit in his chair?

I wasn't scared.

- I wasn't scared, and I certainly!
- It's OK. It's OK.

We're leaving now. Come on.

No, no, no! You're not going up there! No!

You're OK, Mum.

You're OK, Mum. You're OK.

Mrs Cross, can we help?

No, thanks!

Stay there for a minute.

What are you doing?
Warrant?!

He invited us in.

Plastic.

Probably from a toy shop.

- You look disappointed.
- You look relieved.

If I'd thought for a second
you were right, I would be.

Can we please go now?

What happened in 2014?

Someone else won?
Let's go!

No. No, no, no!

Don't go through his stuff.

So he's going through an army phase.
Big deal.

So did I.

Did you pack one of these?

What are you doing?

The Battle of Thermopylae
and the Six Day War.

Common theme - the triumph
of the few over the many.

You're interested in history?

Interested in strategy.

You pack your clothes like a soldier.
Did someone show you that?

I got it off a website.

But you don't have a computer.

A book, then.

Why don't you have a computer, Craig?

Don't want the government
keeping tabs on me.

That's a bit paranoid.

Are you sure it was a book?

No-one showed you?

We need to speak to your mum.

No, you don't.
Craig's made our feelings quite plain.

Craig keeps a hunting knife
in his wardrobe.

That could explain why his dad
felt the need to put

- a hidden camera in his room.
- I just...

He's 16.

He's at school.

He can't drive,
he's no access to guns,

never mind taking headshots
at 200 yards.

Well, obviously, if Craig's involved
he has an adult accomplice.

Meaning he wasn't necessarily present
at all the shootings.

That could be who
he's communicating with outside.

If ever anyone needed a friend,
it's Craig -

especially these past months.

- Why do you say that?
- It's a classic cycle

of violence, isn't it? I mean, Dad misses
out on a job that he's wanted for years,

so his aggression reaches a new low point
and he breaks his son's arm.

Craig turns to Mum,
but years of learned helplessness

and drinking stop her intervening.

His schoolwork suffers -

he won the chemistry prize
three years in a row, but not this year.

His heart hardens -
he'll never be a victim again.

So he adopts the only avoidance
strategy available to a child -

he spends as little time
at home as possible...

And whatever emotional sustenance
he got from his parents,

- he's got to find from somewhere else.
- You mean, someone else.

Two killers.
Explains why Martin's death

was so disorganised
compared to the other victims.

Jim, check out Craig's alibi, would you?

And see if you can match the shootings
to his school timetable,

but do it quietly, please - he can't know.

OK.

Let's say Craig kills his dad.

What's in it for the accomplice?

What's his motive to kill six people
in 24 hours?

- I don't know.
- Right!

Because the accomplice is just a way for
you to make sense of Craig as a suspect.

You think I'm reaching?

Craig's small for his age, isn't he?

Yes.

I don't think you're reaching.

- Take a seat, Mark.
- Thanks.

In your statement, you say that
you closed up the garage shop at 6pm?

It was only for two minutes.

L-I can see the forecourt from there,
if anyone pulls up...

It's not about you nipping out
for a crafty fag, all right?

- All right.
- It's about the two individuals you saw

when you were out there.
Now, in your statement,

you said you thought they might be
father and son?

Yeah.

You put the dad's age at about 30,
and the son's at 12.

Yeah, but the kid had his hat
pulled down low...

- I didn't get a good look at him.
- What kind of hat?

They were both wearing, you know,
beanie hats and...

um... khaki jackets.

He asked me if I'd seen his dog.

And this was two days
before the shootings?

So... statistically,

how many killers return
to the scene of the crime?

I need you to help us
make an artist's impression

of the man you saw, right now.

OK.

The cashier saw this man

in the company of a young male
he took to be his son.

Now, both the jacket and his age
fit our profile

and they were also seen close to the spot

where the sniper would lay his groundsheet
48 hours later.

The neighbours didn't see anything?

Because he exists in an orbit
away from home.

- That's his big appeal.
- Martin Cross wouldn't allow

a friendship to exist,
so they had practice at keeping it secret.

Our best chance of finding him is through
Craig, but their guard's up now.

We must be able to ID him
through phone records or e-mail.

Craig doesn't do computers
and mobiles.

The splinter cell ethos.
Nothing that can be traced.

So we stick a tail on the kid and wait?

Could be days before they make contact,

and he doesn't need Craig to kill again.

So how do we force Craig's hand?

We go back to the profile.

What do we know about the relationships
of assassin personalities?

- They're short-lived.
- Right, they're short-lived.

Much like their jobs,
they can start well,

but eventually, their paranoia, anger,
obsessive need for control will kick in.

And what Craig dreads above all else
is this man abandoning him,

but he knows, sooner or later,
it's going to happen.

So we have to bring that day forward.

We've just received a communication

which leads us to believe
that the sniper killings are the work

of two people, an adult male
and a younger male, aged 16 or 17.

It is the younger male
who has made contact.

In a handwritten note,
which is clearly a cry for help,

he talks of his fear of the older man

and suggests there is an abusive
sexual element to their relationship.

Somebody will have seen
these two people together-

in a park, or a gym,
maybe in a camping or army surplus store.

The adult male is aged around 30.

He is a loner
with a keen interest in the military,

but if he was ever in
the armed forces himself,

his career was short...

Craig! I was watching that.

Shut up. You're a disgrace!

A bloody disgrace!

You're a friend of Jack's, aren't you?

Yeah. Yeah, I am.

Hey, Craig.

Hi, Jack.

We'll be fine, Jim.

Thanks.

So what's up?

'"What's up'"?

Yeah.

Maybe, um...

Maybe I need to talk to someone.

I can't burden my mum.

She can't cope as it is.

Right.

Well, let's talk.

It's the fire alarm.
We need to get out

of the building. Craig, come with me.

OK.

Come on.

I'll call you back.

Somebody, please tell me it's a test.

- It's not a test.
- All right, everyone out, come on!

Come on, out.

You know the drill.

This could take bloody hours.

Ma'am, it's just a paper fire

- in the lobby toilets.
- OK.

Craig? This is Jane, she's in charge

- of the investigation.
- Hello, Craig.

It's just a paper fire
in the lobby toilets.

- Is that all?
- Yeah.

Yes, OK.

OK.

Yeah, typical.

- What do you think it is?
- You sure?

- I'll see you later.
- All right.

It's good to see you again, Gabby.

Oh, er, thanks.

You look happy.

- Get inside!
- Jim!

Craig, come on!

- Jim!
- Get in! Get in!

- Jim!
- No, no, no. Gabby... Gabby.

- Jim! Jim! Get inside!
- No, Gabby!

Get in!

Who is he, Craig? Who is he?

You bastard!

I'll kill you!

We played you like a tune.

What did you say?

- You say that again. Say that again!
- Help me!

- You say that again!
- Please, help me!

- Jack!
- Say that again!

He's one of the victims -
what's the matter with you?!

Come on, then!

Come on!

Come on, then!

- Where are you?
- Get these clothes off me!

Just someone get these clothes off me!

Aah!

Oh, my God.

The scars. Jesus.

You OK?

I just told Gabby's husband.

He was asking me questions, but...

...he was crying so much, I...

I couldn't understand
what he was saying.

I literally couldn't understand him.

When we brought Craig in,

he asked to use the toilet in the lobby,
where the fire started.

There's cameras in the lobby,
isn't there?

Yeah. A few.

Squints are trawling over the footage now.

What news of Craig?

Still being treated for shock.

I saw everything you saw.

I saw the poor, grieving kid
he wanted me to see, and I fell for it.

She had two kids.

'"We played you like a tune.'"

'"We played you like a tune! '"

He doesn't even care that we know!

He's that certain he's walking away
from this, the little...

...prick!

Sorry.

Craig has no alibi
for the murder of his father,

which chimes with the less accurate

- marksmanship.
- He shot Dad.

We know that, but can't prove it.

He shot Dad thanks to an accomplice,
who provides

the gun, the transport, the means.

Craig gets to kill the father he hates.

What's the motivation

- of the accomplice?
- Exactly.

First principles.
What drove Craig to kill,

- at least initially?
- Revenge, self-preservation.

They shared the murders,

- why not the motive?
- Two snipers,

- two victims.
- If that's so,

who's our best fit for his accomplice?

Well, common motive
suggests common victimology.

Martin Cross bullies Craig
and pays the price -

maybe someone made this guy
feel equally threatened?

Steven Lakhani.

Craig's target was his dad,

our accomplice's target
was Steven Lakhani.

Based on?

Nobody came.

Nobody came to view Lakhani's body.

His wife's relatives came, not his.

Same deal at the friends
and family meeting.

I missed it, cos he lost his daughter
and I felt sorry for him.

Martin Cross was very well-represented,
and look who he turned out to be.

Cross was a bully at home,
but a good man in public.

I think Lakhani's the other way round.

- Go on.
- Two years ago, someone

broke into Lakhani's house
and stabbed him in the backside.

He said it was an aborted burglary,
but the pathology read more like

- a personal attack.
- Well, it fits with

the woman accusing him
of infesting her caf� with rats

- because she wouldn't sell.
- No-one likes being intimidated.

So what if we substitute the caf� woman
for your assassin personality?

What, Lakhani wanted to buy the premises,
but they wouldn't sell?

How would that play out?

We've got his laptop.

Excuse...

OK...

so we're after properties he acquired
or tried to acquire

in the last 12 months
on behalf of supermarket chains.

These must be properties
he was buying or trying to buy.

Mostly central London,

only half a dozen in suburban southwest.

Try doing a word search for '"Hounslow'".

Nothing in the immediate area.
Closest two premises are...

- Wilson's Kitchenware and...
- Turner Army Surplus.

Craig's wardrobe's full of army fatigues,
and we know he didn't buy them online.

Stay down!

Adrian Turner, 35.
He's all over the shop.

Literally.

And he lived out back, apparently.

His whole life was here.
No wonder he didn't want to sell.

What kind of bomb we talking?

Simple but effective.
Nails, ball bearings,

some kind of DIY explosive.

Timer?

Looks like a regular alarm clock.

So either Turner wanted to know
exactly when his number was up...

- Or Craig planted it.
- Come on, he's a kid.

A kid who won the chemistry prize
three years running.

Fuel, oxygen, catalyst.
It's really not that hard.

This looks like an iPod touch.

You need to see this.

See the hole forged in the boot?

L96 sniper rifle.

The rifle was wiped clean with bleach.

- Inside and out.
- You're kidding me.

No prints, no DNA. Very thorough.

You wouldn't wipe down the gun
if you were going to

blow yourself up, would you?

Just like you don't blow yourself up
if you've got a gun to hand.

Little shit must've planted it.

Speaking of whom?

Craig checked himself out of hospital
yesterday.

Picture of health.

The iPod touch you salvaged
from Turner's store...

There was lots of video
and a few photos,

but it's all corrupted
bar a couple of short clips.

But is it enough to nail him?

Judge for yourself.

Middle chair.

We want to show you something,
Craig, all right?

Sure.

Right, do you know what this is?

Er... no.

Right, it's a Gibson camo
three-day assault pack.

All right? Guess the volume.

I dunno.

It's 3,920 cubic inches.

The construction is 600-denier
polyester with a vinyl backing

incorporating a hydro reservoir.

If you'd been in Desert Storm
with the Republican Guard on your arse,

this would come in pretty handy.

But- but - you've got
to know how to pack it.

Do you know how to pack it, Craig?

No.

That's all right. I'm going to teach you.

Film him.

Look at him, the fat bastard.

He's supposed to uphold the law?

He's a disgrace to his uniform.

Fat little jobsworth.

Look at his flabby arse.

Would make a good target.

Couldn't miss!

It's not very professional, though.

Shoot him in his arse, and then,

when he's lying in the dirt,
begging for mercy,

you can go up...

and put one in his belly.

Talk about a slow death!

Come on, Adrian, let's go.
We're wasting time and...

What do you think about that?

Look, he was just giving me a lift home.

I mean, I... I bought stuff in his shop
and we kind of became mates.

After that, I let things die down.
It was too weird.

Mmm.

Seriously, I... I hung around him
for a few weeks, and that was it.

Are you saying?

Do you think Adrian's the sniper?

Could you escort Craig to the car, please?

How're you doing, Jack?

You look like you need a day off.

Out.

Down. Left.

Gabby Lawson's children are growing up
without a mother.

Tie him to that bomb, or he walks.

And I can't let that happen.

There is massive trauma to the brain

consistent with an explosion...

...and two nails embedded in it.

Are we likely to get prints? DNA?

Heat will have destroyed.

Evidence of blast trauma
across the upper torso.

Embedded in the flesh
are various metal fragments.

There is discolouration on the nails,

and... ball bearings,

and a thin layer of oxidised metal.

Together, they suggest
the bomb's incendiary element

was hydrogen peroxide.

And where do you think a schoolboy
could get hydrogen peroxide?

There was a break-in at the school
chemistry lab during half-term

and a quantity of hydrogen peroxide
was taken.

Investigation turned up nothing
except a theory it was an inside job.

He's used his dad's keys to get in, eh?

No doubt!

Yes.

OK.

Jack, do you want to step outside
for a second?

Not particularly.

Craig Cross just walked into Epsom nick
and accused you of assault.

Unfortunately,

the duty sergeant who intervened
is corroborating his statement.

- Are you having a laugh?
- No.

To the outside world, Craig

is just the bereft son of
Adrian Turner's fifth victim.

And at the moment, with what we've got,
we can't say otherwise.

I'm sorry, Jack.

Hi.

What do you want?
You're not supposed be here.

It's OK, Mum. He's harmless. Really.

Come in, Jack.

- Craig, I thought you said that...
- Mum, could you put the kettle on?

Don't be scared.

It's just a chair.

My mum's got a point.

Why are you here?

Aren't you in enough trouble?

I mean, you're on suspension, right?

- Not for long.
- That's not what I hear.

Look at you.

All puffed up like a peacock.

You remind me of my dad.

You've got height... muscle...

...but when it comes to it...

...you don't have what it takes.
- To do what?

What your enemy won't.

Is that how you beat your dad?

He breaks your arm,
you blow his head off?

My dad was killed by Adrian Turner.

Ah.

Nothing but a tragedy.

Mm.

I see you're moving on.

Bigger house. Nicer area.

Mum says they'll cough up
the life insurance any day.

I suppose you'll be looking
for somewhere smaller?

I mean, who's going to employ a bloke
who roughs up a kid?

A grieving victim?

You'll be lucky to get a job
stacking shelves.

Which arm did your dad break?

Left or right?

- Don't know what you're talking about.
- Left or right?

Bet it still hurts sometimes.

Sudden shooting pain.

Right arm.

Your writing hand.

What a bastard.

And on top of that,

he made you trot out that ridiculous story
about falling off your bike. I mean...

...talk about... insult to injury.

Salt in the wound.

Get off.

It's really very sweet.

If you take out the killing part.

Adrian gives you the father
you never had...

...but what did you give him?

My skinny, underage arse?

Nah.

In the end, he wasn't that different
from your dad, though, was he?

Just another grown-up shouting at you.

Adrian never shouted at me.

Even after the messyou made?

You dropped casings,
trampled the undergrowth -

you compromised the mission.
Are you telling me

- Adrian was pleased?!
- You don't know

- what the hell you're talking about.
- You're no marksman, I know that.

You wasted three bullets on your dad,

and the first one hit him in the foot!

The ankle! That's a military technique,
you moron.

Maim and immobilise.

So you deliberately
shot him in the ankle?

Of course I bloody did!

Thank you, Craig.

I think we got all that.

Arms out.

Arm.

Jack.

Let's go.

The evidence from the wire
is going to be contentious,

- to say the least.
- Yep.

To offset that, I'm going to bring in
some new guys to interview him.

Guys I trust.

Look, tactically, new blood
is the right play here, Jane.

DCIs who didn't know
Gabby Lawson personally.

OK.

My guys won't be here for a bit.

If you want to go in
and have a crack at him.

No, your guys can go first.

What'd you say?

You go first.

We need fresh eyes here.

In ten years, I've never heard you say,
'"You go first.'"

Well, I wasn't trying to win you back.

- You're very trusting.
- Just a favour for a favour.

That's bollocks.
Everyone wants something.

Major trauma to the head and neck.

We need to understand
what happened last night.

Everybody argues. Don't they?

Platform 2. It's leaving now!

Go, go, go! I'll get them to hold it.

He's in the tunnels.

# Testator silens

# Costestes e spiritu

# Silentium. #

Ripped By mstoll