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With regard to his memory loss,
he could be feigning, exaggerating or simply...
malingering.
Now, I feel I have no choice, other than to remand her
to the Seapark Juvenile Justice Centre in Bangor.
I don't care what you do.
The only one who's honest is Paul.
The police say they have fresh evidence to put to Spector.
What sort of evidence?
Apparently they have found a lock-up rented by Spector.
Why are you in this place?
I twisted my sister's arm.
After he broke his sister's arm, he raped her...
and carried her into the street,
threw her into a passing bin lorry that crushed her to death.
No-one has any idea how bad Gortnacull House was.
Are you certain that Baldwin,
Paul Spector, was Jensen's favourite?
Every night and every day for a full year.
Paul Spector,
I am further arresting you
for the murder of Susan Harper
on the 18th of August 2002.
I insist this interview be suspended.
I must take instruction from Mr Spector.
Do you recognise this man? Do you know his name?
- David Alvarez. - This interview stops now.
What is going on?
The police have been clever.
They have something on me that I can actually remember.
I'd worked that day,
in a Caribbean restaurant.
It was a warm day.
There was thundery rain.
David and I went out after work,
went out drinking.
We went to a local club,
I can't recall the name.
We met Susan Harper there.
She invited us to her house.
I think she shared a house,
but there was no-one there.
- We went up to her room. - The three of you?
Yes.
What happened?
She and David had sex.
And you?
I watched.
What sort of sex?
Ordinary sex.
What happened then?
David left.
He went out to find more drink.
He left us together.
Go on.
We, erm...
I invited her to try something a bit different.
What?
A sex game.
What happened was an accident.
A consensual game?
Yes.
Then how did this David Alvarez individual
come to be found guilty if he wasn't even there?
And why murder, why not manslaughter?
It's complicated.
Did David Alvarez find somewhere to sell him drink?
I don't know.
He never came back.
Could I please have some water?
Have you, erm...
... remembered more in regard to the other charges?
No.
It will look bad if you stop answering now.
Erm...
just be careful what you say.
So at that point you were left alone with Susan Harper?
Yes.
What happened then?
I suggested that she tried something, erm,
a bit more exciting
than the sex that she'd had with David.
What?
I'd been experimenting.
With?
Exhibit 132.
I've never seen these before.
- You admit it's you? - He admits no such thing.
Experimenting like that,
with sexual asphyxiation. Is that the
sort of behaviour you involved Susan Harper in?
I advise you not to answer that question.
Yes.
How?
Specifically.
Her head in a plastic bag.
Tied off at the neck?
No, just a thin plastic bag.
Did you tie her hands?
No,
her hands were free.
Was it your suggestion to use the bag?
Yes.
Why?
For the same reasons as
in these pictures,
to feel in control, to feel out of control...
to feel powerful,
to feel weak,
to be fearful,
- to be trusted. - Were you supposed to remove it?
She was...
at the peak of orgasm,
to tear off the bag,
it floods the brain with oxygen-laden blood,
leads to a feeling of euphoria.
Or death.
Sadly, yes.
Sadly?
Did she understand the risks involved with such behaviour?
I think so.
Did you explain it?
I don't remember.
Why didn't you remove the bag for her
if she lost consciousness?
Could you not see she was suffocating?
I wasn't looking at her.
I was going down on her.
We'd been drinking,
taken coke. Maybe that's why she died.
And yet David Alvarez,
who wasn't even there at the time,
is serving a life sentence for the murder.
His choice.
Why would he make that choice, do you think?
I don't know.
You'll have to ask him.
So what did you do when you realised what had happened?
Did you call for an ambulance? Did you call the police?
- No. - Why not?
It didn't occur to me.
What did you do?
Cleaned up.
Does that account for the presence
of a washing-up bowl by the bed?
Yes.
I fetched the water and washed her.
Emptied it into the bath.
I was meant to bring it back to the kitchen.
I must have forgotten.
What colour bowl?
Green, I think.
So you just left her there, in her room?
On her bed?
- Yes. - What did you do then?
I walked the streets.
And after that?
Left London.
I came back to Belfast.
And that's when you became Paul Spector?
Yes.
Did you have any communication with David Alvarez?
No.
At no point?
No.
I ask you again,
why would he take the blame,
do you think?
He must have felt he was doing the right thing, I suppose.
And why would he think...
... taking the blame
was the right thing to do?
You tell me.
He said he felt in your debt.
She speaks.
He said he felt he owed you a great deal.
Because you protected him as a child.
Did I?
You told me...
that Father Jensen didn't abuse you at Gortnacull.
You said that you made yourself repulsive
so that he wouldn't touch you.
I don't remember that.
I don't recall talking to you before.
But every boy there was abused in some way.
No-one escaped.
In fact,
some boys were singled out
for special treatment.
And you
were one of Father Jensen's favourites.
He even had a pet name for you.
He called you "Pretty Boy".
He chose you to be his favourite
for a whole year.
When it came time for you to choose your
successor...
... you looked right past David Alvarez.
You chose another boy.
And, for that,
he was eternally grateful.
Or at least until
it became clear that the friend that he was protecting
from an unfortunate fatal accident
was actually a friend who was, at that time,
at the beginning of a career as a serial murderer.
Drop the charade, Peter.
Own your confession.
Have the courage of your convictions
and admit that you remember it all.
You remember everything.
I'm sorry, but you are intentionally
prejudicing my client's case.
I will want this removed from the transcripts.
Were you not worried that the police would come after you?
Come after Peter Baldwin, do you mean?
Of no fixed abode
somewhere in London?
No, I wasn't.
A year later I was Paul Spector,
living in Belfast,
soon to become a married man
with a child.
Truth be told, I didn't give Alvarez and
Susan Harper much thought.
You know,
I've been told a lot about Paul Spector,
since I was shot.
At first I was horrified,
but then, I must admit...
... little by little,
he's started to intrigue me.
Paul,
please stick to the facts
surrounding the death of Susan Harper...
and avoid speculating
about things you can't remember.
The speculation intrigues me.
I'm told that I laid out Sarah Kay's underwear on her bed,
in the shape of her body.
That's what I used to do as a child.
Lay out my
mother's clothes on her bed,
in her shape,
imagine she was there.
It aroused me.
When I was a wee bit older, 12, 13,
whenever I could, I would obtain
female underwear.
I'd use it to masturbate.
Is that perverse?
Was that the start of something that led me here?
Or was it earlier?
Gortnacull?
Or earlier still, my mother's death?
I want to know.
I want to know the real me.
Then stop hiding behind the mask of amnesia.
We're all wearing masks to some extent.
You certainly are.
There are memories,
thoughts that
feel like memories...
... that are starting to come back to me.
This interview has strayed way beyond its stated purpose.
And there's a voice.
There's a voice saying, "We're losing him,
we're losing him."
So,
there must have been at least one person who cared
whether I lived or died.
That was me.
That was my voice.
And I did care.
I thought death would be too easy for you,
too easy an escape.
And I didn't want you to cheat the system.
And I still don't.
I want you to be punished
for the crimes that you've committed.
Rose Stagg
was so right about you.
She saw right through you,
your infantile desire to have a captive and
captivated audience.
You just want to be noticed,
you want to be the centre of attention,
to have special treatment,
to make your mark.
But it's all just a performance.
All of it.
You perform for me,
for your solicitor,
your doctors, your nurse, your psychiatrist,
even your family.
It's all just
one big performance...
... as protection
against the dreaded
black hole of your heart.
Well, guess what, Paul,
it's time to grow up.
It's time to take responsibility for what you've done.
Let's stop this pathetic charade.
I really must insist on a break now.
I need time with my client
to prepare a written statement about the death
of Susan Harper that he will read.
Interview is being suspended
at 15.47 so that Paul Spector
can consult with his solicitor.
Fetch the detention officer.
Get your hands off me! Get your hands off me!
Don't touch me! Do you hear me?!
Don't you put your hands on me!
Have you been drinking?
You, escort Mr Healy out of here! You...
- where's that fucking ambulance?! - It's all right.
It's all right, it's all right.
Drive.
Drive!
I'm shaking.
How much did you see?
Erm, my monitor went dead. The attack on Gibson.
It didn't stop there.
- What a way for the whole thing to end. - End?
What do you mean?
We can't possibly represent him now.
Why not?
I've never seen violence like that before in my life.
What have we just witnessed?
The very thing you described.
Their deep obsession with each other.
The emergence under duress of "Bad Paul".
If Larson doesn't find evidence of
dissociative disorder, a split personality,
then we will find a psychiatrist who does.
Then we play the "not guilty by reason of insanity" card
or even, if necessary, "guilty but insane".
I can't, Sean,
- I can't be in the same room with him again. - I get it.
You admire her. You want to be her when you grow up.
The fact remains,
if you can't make the accused your focus
then you shouldn't be a defence lawyer,
- probably not a criminal lawyer at all. - Fine.
What?
You're on your own.
Open your mouth for me.
Bring your teeth together.
Painful?
No, no.
No crunching noises. Any problems with vision?
No.
I think you have a minimally displaced zygoma fracture.
You're going to be on a soft diet for two weeks or so.
Though the bleeding's impressive,
the lacerations small.
Might require a stitch or two. Irrigate the wound
with lots of normal saline and I'll take a look.
If you'd like to lie back on the bed for me, please.
- Any pain? - Mmm. Some.
- Shall I check for blood in the urine? - Yes, please.
I'd like to keep you in overnight for observation.
That won't be necessary.
Don't worry, it'll just be bed and breakfast.
I'll be back to stitch that eyebrow.
Thought I'd look in on you before I go.
What time is it?
Just after two.
This is my ninth straight night in a row.
I've been on for 17 hours.
Getting too old for this.
I bet you're glad I saved his life.
How's Tom Anderson?
His arm's broken.
He's undergone a closed reduction to
pull the bones back into position.
- Oh, Jesus. - He's been sent home with his arm in a cast.
Given that you're less likely to develop
post-traumatic stress disorder if you don't sleep
after a bad experience, maybe I should...
keep you awake a wee bit longer at least.
Don't you have a home to go to?
I do. A wife and five kids, as it happens,
from a daughter of 12 to a son of seven months.
If I go home now,
it'll be nappy changes and the four o'clock feed.
Might as well sit with you for a bit.
I'll ask you questions.
- Really? - Aye.
Go on.
Do you like flowers?
Of course.
Can you play any musical instrument?
I could play the violin when I was a girl.
Have you ever been happy?
If so, when?
When I was a child,
before my father died.
Have you any real friends?
A few, yeah.
Have you ever wished anyone dead?
Yes, I have.
Are you a good swimmer?
Very.
Are men or women the stronger, do you think?
- What do you think? - Oh, women, without a doubt.
In fact, it's time you hurried up and took over.
I mean, it's going to happen so why not get on with it?
Which is your favourite season?
Spring.
Has Mr Spector been a threat to himself
or others in the past week?
There have been no more breaches of protocol
since he's been back.
Anything more from the test results?
Have you found any compelling inconsistencies?
No, I haven't.
Which is unsurprising
given his professional knowledge.
I know it's in your nature to infer
invisible unconscious processes
behind the memory loss
and that it is an exceptional doctor who
will take the risk of concluding in writing that someone is
malingering but,
with respect,
that is what I think you should do.
Do you?
The CT head scan with and without contrast was normal,
the MRI of the brain and the spinal cord
showed normal results.
There's no evidence of structural brain damage
in the neurological examinations or neuroimaging.
With his history of lying and
everything that he stands to gain
from exaggeration and
fabrication of the symptoms,
the amnesia has to be malingered.
He's proved how dangerous he is.
It has to be fake.
It's not me.
What?
I look at my body and it's not me.
It'll take a while to get used to, that's all.
We've had a report, ma'am,
from the Juvenile Offenders' Centre.
It seems that Katie Benedetto
has been self-harming.
How?
Cutting herself with a piece of bone.
What?
They think she must have found it
in her food at some point.
Jesus.
Is there a happy memory from any part of your life
that you can remember?
I used to think that there was a black hole inside me
that nothing could fill.
Then I had a daughter.
I remember the first time that I put her to sleep.
I was standing,
holding her in my arms,
rocking her.
I was looking at her all the time.
She was looking up at me.
I began to feel that she trusted me,
that she felt safe.
She must have done because
her eyelids started closing...
... little by little,
and then she was asleep.
That's a good memory.
Why did you attack Stella Gibson?
Why did you break that young man's arm?
There is a visible
and an invisible world.
That's why people get hurt.
Do you think I'm treatable?
Of course.
Curable?
Hmm,
that's different.
What would you do for me if I was your patient?
Try to get you to pay attention
wisely to things as they are.
Foster clear thinking and
open-heartedness.
Try to develop the capacity in you
to experience a feeling without
necessarily acting on it.
Try to enable you to see the difference between
thoughts and reality.
I'd imagine you're a good father.
What do you mean by "good father"?
Someone who is present,
there for his children.
Has anyone ever told you you sometimes have
bad dreams that you can't remember?
Has your mummy or your daddy ever told you that?
Yes.
Mummy took me to the doctor's one time.
Have you had any bad dreams
since you've been staying with Joan and Stephen?
I don't think so.
She hasn't. She's been sleeping well.
Daddy said he had bad dreams like mine
when he was in the children's home.
Did he?
Did he say what he dreamed about?
Frightening things.
How do you feel about your daddy right now, Olivia?
I love him.
But?
I don't think I'll go see him for a while.
How long do you think before you'll see him again?
When I'm grown up I might.
Or if I have a baby.
If I have a baby, I might go take her to see him.
What happened to your face?
I was in a car accident.
No, I wasn't.
Paul Spector attacked me.
I've got marks like that.
Show me.
I can't.
Why?
They're on my upper thighs and on the soles of my feet.
I didn't want anyone to know,
to see them.
They were private.
Why did you do it?
I think for the same reason you do.
What's that?
Anger.
What did you have to be angry about?
My father.
Why?
He died.
How?
He was ill.
How old were you?
14.
My father killed himself.
I thought it was an accident.
He chose to ride a motorbike.
Even though I worried about him every time he went out...
... every night he was late home.
He loved the bike more than he loved me.
Loved the thrill of speed more than he
loved his only daughter.
I don't call that an accident.
Is that why you're throwing your life away?
You know you can't get him back.
No matter how hard you try.
"There was a man of double deed,
Who sowed his garden full of seed;
When the seed began to grow,
'Twas like a garden full of snow;
When the snow began to melt,
'Twas like a ship without a belt;
When the ship began to sail,
'Twas like a bird without a tail;
When the bird began to fly,
'Twas like an eagle in the sky;
When the sky began to roar,
'Twas like a lion at my door;
When my door began to crack,
'Twas like a stick across my back;
When my back began to smart,
'Twas like a penknife in my heart;
And when my heart began to bleed...
... 'Twas death,
and death,
and death indeed.
I need you to do me a favour.
I know that everything feels tainted,
polluted.
But it's not.
We all have those voices in our heads,
that tell us we're a disappointment,
that tell us our work is insignificant.
That it's not good enough,
it takes too long, it's too hard.
But when times are tough,
we need tough dreams.
But real dreams,
not lies.
Not an unreality like Paul.
You need to fight for yourself, Katie,
because right now...
... you're in danger.
What's this?
It's your chocolate.
I don't want that chocolate. I want what he's got.
Mark, you're diabetic. That's your special chocolate.
I don't like special chocolate. I want what he's got.
This stuff tastes like dog chocolate.
I'm not eating dog chocolate!
I'm afraid it's this or nothing.
Then give me my money back.
I've spent your money on the things you asked for.
I want my money back!
Mark, calm yourself.
I'm not a dog. I'm not eating that shit. I refuse.
Calm down, Mark, or you'll be restrained.
What did you say to me?
- You called me a homosexual! - I didn't call you anything!
- You called me a homosexual! - Calm down now!
We all need love
and we all need nurture.
There's too much death and destruction.
But friends who love you should...
... warm you like the sun.
Make you feel good about yourself.
Not freeze you in their contempt
and in their hate.
Anger corrodes our belief
that anything good can happen to us.
Paul's been destroyed by his anger,
his rage.
And you,
you hurt a friend,
to impress him.
But he doesn't care.
He doesn't even know you exist.
Watch his head, watch his head.
And out, and out. Let's go! Let's go.
Go, go, go!
Fuck off! That's right, fuck the lot of you!
Fuck off!
You and I were loved so much...
... even if our fathers couldn't stay around for us.
Maybe we both need to be held while we grieve,
but it has to be someone who can feel pain for our pain,
not revel in it.
Not someone who will abandon us.
Sweet Jesus.
Somebody call for an ambulance!
Call an ambulance.
Where's Spector?
Where's Spector?!
Check the treatment room! The de-escalation room!
Check the kitchen!
Shit! Bailey's room!
Oh, God!
Got him, got him.
Quick. Mind his head, mind his head, mind his head.
Get the belt, get the belt.
Paul, Paul.
I'm sorry.
Gibson.
OK.
What is it?
- I have to go. - What's happened?
I can't tell you. I'm sorry.
Is it Paul?
Bye, Katie.
Oh, God, Dr Larson,
I'm sorry,
I'm so sorry.
Paul Spector, the man charged
with the four recent murders in the Belfast area...
was found dead last night
in one of the bedrooms of the Foyle Clinic
where he was undergoing psychiatric assessment.
This morning, an inquiry was launched
into how he had come to die
whilst under level two observation by clinic staff.
Spector, 32, was found dead at 9.31pm.
While efforts were made to revive him,
he was certified dead by doctors at 9.51pm.
The Foyle Clinic's leading clinician
was also injured during the incident.
He is in hospital and in a stable condition.
His injuries are not thought to be life-threatening.
Another patient, Mark Bailey, 29, was killed.
His family have been informed.
An inquiry into his death is ongoing.
I can confirm that the PSNI
are not looking for anyone else
in connection with the murders of Fiona Gallagher,
Sarah Kay, Alice Parker Monroe or Joseph Brawley.
An inquest will take place into each of those deaths.
DCI Eastwood will oversee the preparation of those inquest files.
In light of recent events,
and as of today,
I am standing down from my position
as Gold Commander of Operation Musicman.
In addition, the Chief Constable
has accepted my resignation.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank
Detective Superintendent Gibson for all her hard work,
her dedication to duty
and her leadership during the investigation.
Thank you.
I'm sorry, sir.
Take care, Dani.
And you, ma'am.
"In olden times,
when wishing still did some good...
... there lived a king
whose daughters were all beautiful.
But the youngest was so beautiful
that the sun itself,
who indeed has seen so much,
marvelled every time it shone upon her face.
In the vicinity of the King's castle
there was a large, dark forest
and in this forest,
beneath an old linden tree,
there was a well.
In the heat of the day,
the Princess would go out into the forest
and sit on the edge of the cool well.
To pass the time
she would take a golden ball,
throw it into the air and then catch it.
It was her favourite plaything... "
Thank you. Thank you.
"As she was lying in bed,
he came creeping up to her and said,
I am tired and I want to sleep as well as you do.
Pick me up or I'll tell your father."
With that,
she became bitterly angry
and threw him against the wall with all her might.
Now you will have your peace, you disgusting frog!
She's supposed to kiss him,
not throw him against the wall.
That's Disney.
This is the real story.
"But when he fell down,
he was not a frog...
... but a prince
with beautiful,
friendly eyes."
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