Original subtitles

Right. Cab's here in five. Jonah, you ready?

-Yeah. -Well, come on.

Incoming.

I hope it goes without saying

that you've all been signed off for the whole day.

-Nobody expects you to-- -We're right back out the door, ma'am.

I just wanted to tie up a few loose ends, to allow for hangovers.

Understood... Jonah? I was sorry to not see you at the funeral.

-Or the wake? -Yeah.

We drew straws, ma'am.

We're looking after Joy's kittens, one of 'em's epileptic,

but we're not sure which one, so we're just keeping a constant watch

-on 'em all. -Right...

And where's Stuart got to? Because I definitely saw him at the funeral.

Kitten watch?

Ma'am, you're going to work this out, so it may as well come from me.

Call your lawyers, folks.

Hey? Kittens?

I've placed Stuart and Jonah on surveillance of Dennis Caddy.

They drew straws for who missed the funeral

and who missed tonight's piss-up.

Well... my condolences.

Today isn't just Joy's funeral, it's this entire bloody department's.

Caddy is embargoed.

Which part of Pembroke's threat of prison did you feel had wriggle room?

Caddy knows that we had him down as Beckett's getaway driver.

Now, if we don't at least follow him,

do you not think he's going to be a bit suspicious?

If we do less than nothing, he's going to smell a rat.

We are not endangering Pembroke's agent by following Caddy,

we're protecting her.

Caddy lied about not knowing Beckett.

They were stationed at Basra together, they're brothers in arms.

He's not some getaway lackey.

So if you don't call Pembroke and tell him

that this is top-notch thinking, ma'am, then...

I actually buy that.

It's very good.

Well, it was DC Kowalska's brain wave, I just rode it in.

And erm...

You're going to be ever so proud of me.

I've gone and appointed DC Kowalska sergeant.

She accepted this morning.

Bittersweet for her, of course, but when was real change anything but?

You've chosen Dinah?

She's already accepted?

You can't go doling out promotions, Viv.

I think you'll find there's a whole protocol...

-I've made her in my own image, ma'am. -Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of.

Party or prison?

She couldn't be happier.

And, Dinah, DCI Marchant and I are in complete agreement...

You are to be promoted to sergeant, effective immediately.

What? Me?

That's right.

Down a couple before you say yes.

Now, who has got Joy's iPod?

Let's go.

Just call me the angel of the morning

Angel

Just touch my cheek before you leave me

Baby

Just call me the angel of the morning

Angel

Then slowly turn away

From me...

Give us your falsetto.

So... how long do you think I've got before I screw this up?

Seriously?

The whole team's behind you.

Minimum bet's a month.

I always wanted it, you know?

Not like this.

No, fuck. Never like this.

Hey...

Joy would've wanted you to have it.

-Oh, no, no. -Dinah, sorry.

-It just... -No, it's...

It's fine.

I'm just... I'm just gonna go... It's fine.

NO OFFENCE

Get in.

Dinah... I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be here.

Pretty sure you're not supposed to be here... Sarge.

All right, I won't log it,

but you'll have to shift before the next rotation... Sarge.

And congrats.

So... What'd I miss?

Caddy knows we're watching him, so not much.

Same routine.

Caddy's missus teaching Albion self-defence.

-Self-defence from what? -Dunno. Facts? Pissed-off immigrants?

You?

They can't keep their hands off each other.

Oh, my God, I'm so sorry! Oh, hiya! We need to talk.

Security, over here! This person's harassing me,

and she's about to get the shit kicked out of her by my boyfriend--

I'm an off-duty detective sergeant, I saw her lifting nail varnish.

-She's drunk... her breath. -Empty your pockets.

-Empty your pockets, please, miss. -Don't you dare.

Get back to the magazine section, where you belong.

Empty your pockets, please.

-Ta-da. -Dennis, she put it there.

Yeah, look, check the CCTV, mate,

you'll see the racist bitch planting that.

You got a storeroom where I can book her?

Save everybody the embarrassment, y'know?

-Yeah. -Okay. C'mon, let's go.

Stay the fuck away from us.

And you should know better, mate.

POLICE

You're in early. Everyone else is phoning in with hangovers.

-Is Dinah in? -No.

First day as sergeant, too.

Phone call for you, line two.

-Yeah, DC Tanner. -It's Beckett.

Oh, is that a fact?

I've had a bunch of Becketts recently.

That better not be wanking I'm hearing in the background.

You fell like a sack of shit in that car park.

If you hadn't've chased me, she wouldn't be dead...

I pumped a batch of halal meat full of toxin.

It's already gone to market. Happy hunting.

Ma'am, just had a call from someone claiming to be Beckett,

saying he's poisoned a batch of halal meat, he had detail.

Ma'am, it's him. But we've traced the call to a landline from a house

in Manchester, we're moving now.

Armed police!

Standard far-right wallpaper and my nan's furnishings. It's him.

I want neighbours and t'landlord quizzed,

I want all local CCTV pulled and scanned.

Crusader fetish?

No. It's butcher's gear...

He must've known we'd trace it. He's a hitman who shot a cop.

He should be in Fiji by now. Why bother?

Viv?

-What is it? -Offal. Fridge is stacked full of it.

He's pumping it full of I don't know what. A food-batch label...

Call Food Standards for me, would you, Sarge?

Track the ID number. Appreciate it.

-Jonah, away. -Gladly.

Jonah, return.

Comms, please.

Professor Miller to Control... This is Code Red.

I want bio-hazard lads here, I want this entire street wrapped in a hazmat suit.

Everyone else out.

-No, not us! We're staying here! -You just said it was a Code Red.

Yeah, and if it's ricin, we're playing footsie in the morgue already. Shit.

What is it?

No, I mean, in this jar, it's literally shit.

OK, lab rat.

Acetone, dextrose, rotten meat, and there's jam jars full of shit.

It's not ricin, folks!

It's botulin. He's pumping it into the offal.

Get everything to the lab, kids.

I want full toxicology report on the botulin, midday latest.

-What is botulin? -At its weakest,

it smoothes out your crow's feet.

At its strongest, it's on every dictator's Christmas list.

But making is no easy trick and though he's been Andy-McNabbing his tits off,

Beckett's no PHD,

Right, the offal comes from an abattoir called Halal Paddy's.

They ship halal meat all round Manchester.

Viv, if he has pumped this shit into anything, whoever eats it

will have their guts wrung out and would snap their neck to end it.

Sergeant Kowalska, DC Tanner, the abattoir.

Find out what they know about Beckett. Keep it schtum.

What are you waiting for?

We need a visible police presence outside every polling station.

-The public cannot feel... -Now is not the time.

Ma'am, Mayor.

Beckett's claimed to have poisoned a batch of halal meat with botulin.

Now, we need to recall all halal meat products right now.

Takeaways, supermarkets, butchers, schools. Not in that order.

You're all right, you're on bento.

Better be the Food Standards Agency you're about to text,

-not your kids, sir. -What do we know?

That you need to authorise the outbreak unit,

make a public announcement, knives and forks down.

No, which batch, which meat? Chicken, beef?

I'm not coming at you with a fucking Pot Noodle, sir!

-Inspector! -I don't know yet.

-Nothing leaves these premises. -Are you for real? Who's that?

-Can I help you? -DS Kowalska, DC Tanner,

-Manchester Met, you're the manager? -Yeah, Paddy Kenny. Is there a problem?

Mr Kenny, we need to chat with you in private.

It's quite urgent.

It used to be Paddy & Sons but we were going to ground,

so now it's Halal Paddy's.

We've just had a halal inspection.

It took us two years to win the Sharia Council's trust.

This is all halal, right down the line.

It has to be with a community this sensitive to taking the piss.

But I've done the research, though.

Those jihadis come for me, you just whip out the Quran and you chant,

"There is no other god but Allah, and Muhammad is his prophet."

You're way off, sir. Your office, please.

So, you want me to publicly announce to the people of Manchester

that they may have already ingested poisoned meat?

That's your pitch when this could all still be a prank?

You need to work out what you want your face next to in the news

on the eve of an election, sir.

Panic in the streets or a row of stiffs in an outbreak tent?

Alert all hospitals but no public announcements

till we know definitively which batch.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a radio interview to do.

We use the media, Inspector, they don't use us.

-What's going on? -I need your staff to leave.

Anything you say to me, you say to Omran.

He's my halal supervisor. Without Omran, we're haram and no mistake.

Mr Kenny, we have reason to believe your produce

may have been infected with botulin.

-You what? -Oh, my God!

Do you recognise this man?

Ma'am, Dinah's on line two. It's urgent.

-Dinah? -Viv, this is real.

The owners have IDed Beckett.

He worked on the cutting line.

He'd have had access to inject any batch he wanted.

He last clocked off the day of the hustings.

Miller says once that shit's ingested, symptoms start showing

anywhere between 48 and 72 hours.

That's now.

Ma'am, Beckett worked in the abattoir,

giving him every chance to pump the meat.

Hang on, I know you.

You're moving in opposite. You copped an eyeful!

Let's do this properly. Inspector Deering, meet my youngest, Louis.

Your son? Well, then, who was the older guy?

My husband, David.

Oh, so, then we're...

Neighbours.

-I'll see you tonight, Louis. -Mum.

Marilyn, if we don't put out an announcement right now,

the only way we'll know which batch he poisoned

is when the first person kicks the bucket.

We need to alert everyone.

Mayor, your failure has left more homeless kids

sleeping rough in central Manchester. It's heartbreaking.

Miss McCoy, you're on record as giving local-government advice

to big companies to cut down on heat being generated

outside their offices to remove vagrants.

Lovely. Cheers.

And our next question is from Joe. What's your question, Joe?

I didn't mean to kill her.

She came at me with pepper spray and left me no choice.

I don't think that's quite how the Manchester Met feel about it, Joe.

-Tell 'em to hang up. -Hang up, that's an order.

I've sent a batch of halal beef pumped full of botulin

-into a Manchester school, Mr Mayor. -That's a very serious threat.

-We shift beef to over 300 schools. -Jesus!

That is thousands of batches Beckett could've injected.

I tipped the cops off this morning.

Gave 'em plenty of time, because they, and you, let the children eat up anyway,

because they're scared of upsetting the degenerates

who cut our soldiers' heads off on our streets.

Jonah, tell the producer if it's ratings he's after, patch me in!

If you think your white kids are safe, 'cause they don't eat halal, then tough.

The schools have snuck halal meat into all your kids' school dinners,

and guess what, the Mayor did nothing about it.

This is DI Deering.

You shot an unarmed officer dead in a car park

and now you've upgraded to bioterror?

Who's the degenerate now, eh, Beckett? Who put you up to this?

Ma'am, he's gone.

Manchester, we've been tested before.

Do not panic.

Your children are safer in their schools than out.

Let the authorities handle it. We will not let you down.

Stand together. Hold fast.

All the phone networks are down. Switchboards are jammed.

No shit, Gavin, I get it.

Fist fights are breaking out between Muslim and non-Muslim parents

outside every school gate in Manchester.

-Twitter's in a meltdown. -Who gives a twat about Twitter?

It's spreading panic, ma'am.

They're saying we don't have manpower, the police are not fit for purpose.

-We're being played. -Sorry, ma'am?

-Dinah, give me good news. -Viv, think we've got it!

Day of the hustings, Beckett cut his hand in the de-boning room.

Injury report says he insisted on finishing his shift.

They sent him to the packing room that afternoon.

That has to be when he did it.

Now, we can trace which batches went to which schools.

Then what are you on the phone to me for? Track it!

ERROR INFORMATION UNAVAILABLE

-Sorry, my fingers are sweating. -Use this.

Damn it! It keeps giving me the same error screen.

The records for burger batches have been deleted.

What, so Beckett deleted the files?

Impossible. Nobody can delete the records apart from me and...

-I didn't know! -Know what?

Even though we'd gone full halal, we were still in the red.

I...

I swapped the budget halal burgers...

...with the plain beef!

Unblessed beef?

No, it was blessed, Omran. It was still halal.

I've got a blessing app on my iPad.

We played it while we put the frozen patties into the boxes.

-You did what? -It was Brexit!

Half the workforce have gone back to Europe!

I can't afford you lot blessing every throat before you cut it!

-There is no other God but Allah! -You broke the law!

Just calm down.

Forgive me, Omran!

Punish only me, spare my kids!

You ignorant moron!

It's not Sharia law! It is UK law!

Right?

Omran, is there any other way we can track the batch?

I'm sorry.

Viv?

Patrick Kenny, you're under arrest for food fraud--

I think we've hit the fan here, we've...

-Get up. -What?

Oh, God!

Viv, this doesn't make any sense.

It could be any one of 300 schools, why would Beckett poison a Neo-Nazi pub?

Will one of you bastards just listen?

-Get your hands off me! -Sir! Sir!

Over here, please, sir.

I need you to tell me everything your wife ate.

They've got it all wrong! She's anaphylactic.

She's trying to shift baby weight, so she ate one of them cereal bars

that says "may contain nuts," look!

-She needs adrenaline! -Do you serve meat from Halal Paddy's?

Do I look like I serve halal shite?

Just let me hold her hand! She needs me...

No, sir, just listen to me, okay? This isn't nuts.

Your wife could be the victim of a bioterror attack

on poisoned burgers that've gone to kids' schools,

and that poison's gonna work twice as fast on those kids

as it is on your wife. So you need to think.

How did poisoned meat get into your kitchen?

Some mad Chinese woman. She sold us some meat.

It was an under-the-counter thing. We've bought meat from her before.

-Lilly had one of the burgers. -Her name, Hamish.

-Rita! -Rita what?

Wong, Wang, I don't know! She said she was a dinner lady.

-What school? -I don't know!

Spike, bring up all schools surrounding

the Red Stag pub Halal Paddy supplied to.

Yep.

Yep, right, there's five.

Swinton College, St Mary's Middle School,

-Ironside Grammar, Ashton Primary... -Ironside?

That's where the Mayor sends his kids to school. Makes sense now.

Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Who's had school dinners? Hands up.

-Right, this way. -This way, keep coming.

This way, just gather over here, please.

Everyone, keep coming at the back. Is that the last one? Right, thank you.

All right, my name's Spike. I'm just gonna ask you a couple of questions.

Anyone who had school dinners this afternoon,

can you put your hands up, please?

Right, anybody who didn't have the burgers, put your hands down.

Shit.

Excuse me! Yeah, you're Rita, right? Dinner lady?

You sold halal burgers to the chef at the Red Stag?

-I want my lawyer. -Those burgers were poisoned.

Did you serve the rest to these kids?

Just take me to the patties, Rita!

Anyone who's got stomach cramps, just come and make a line here, please.

Come on. Okay, thank you.

Anyone who's breathing a bit funny, come and make a line here.

Okay.

Right. Anyone who's got sweaty earlobes, come and stand here with me.

-They do feel a bit sweaty. -What's gonna happen?

Yeah, now, don't fret, kid.

It'll be a drip in the arm and a week off school,

you'll be right as rain, and famous.

Get 'em all on the anti-toxin, crash pads ready, yeah? Excellent man.

Nah, not this, not these...

This batch here. All here.

Apart from, y'know. What I... stole. But hey...

-All here? -You try charging me with this,

you're looking at a vegan with an all-ethnic defence team.

Rita! I don't give a shit! What did you serve to the kids?

None of it, that's what I'm telling you. This is next week's meat!

It's on a rota system. These burgers won't be served till a week Thursday.

Saved by the bell, eh?

Joseph Beckett has now targeted all our children with a bio-attack...

One woman in hospital, no kids, we thrashed the odds.

I'd love to open the Babycham...

but we've survived today by the skin of our teeth.

And the Mayor. Are his kids still here?

No, his wife. She came and picked them up just before lunch

and that was right after he said to me,

keep the attack under your hat 'cause of panic.

You are joking?

How long have you been standing there?

Long enough not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Sorry, Viv, I am using this.

Caroline, stop! Jonah, you're supposed to be ahead of her.

-Try it, ma'am, she's a dachshund! -And where were your kids, Mayor?

Maybe you could explain to us all

why your kids were whisked out of school by your wife

before Beckett made the announcement!

My children had an appointment that my wife--

She just happened to remember? Seriously?

After saying to the city that our kids are safer in school

and then you privately take yours out. What's all that about?

I am sorry that your kids were targeted, sir,

but you are supposed to have all of our backs,

not just your little 'uns.

You can't spin this one, can you?

Has anybody got any more questions for our mayor?

Tegan.

Ma'am, it looks like Caddy and his missus are checking in

to a spa hotel for a dirty weekend.

We're gonna need some undercover room service.

Golfers... I could do the spa...

As if Marilyn's gonna cough up for that.

You're on your own. Don't let Caddy out your sight.

So who's buying it?

Who's buying that this shell-shocked far- right thug is

-Manchester's own Moriarty? -He poisoned the burgers,

so he could've poisoned 24 kids. I'm not-not buying it.

Yeah, but if he meant that shit on air, why give us the heads-up?

He knew we'd trace the call, find that food-batch label.

If Halal Paddy hadn't been cooking the books, we'd have got to the school,

and the meat wasn't to be served till next week.

Exactly. Immigrants and kids, they're not his real target...

It's us.

This whole day's been designed to have us running round Manchester

in a fucking shambles, looking for a needle in a very public haystack.

And why would Beckett, why would he want Manchester Met in the stocks?

We were stretched, stretched to near breaking point,

underfunded, understaffed, and there's Dirkin,

waiting in the wings with a bang-tidy offer for a buy-out.

Now, it might mean more beats on the street...

but far-right thugs.

There's gonna be more of this, and it's not if, it's when.

Ma'am, Marchant's in your office, with some spook in a suit.

Dismissed.

Dinah, can we just have a little chat?

Spike, it was Joy's wake...

and we were both so blind drunk, neither of...

I think Alice is having an affair.

Seriously?

You think?

Remember when Alice went on that mindfulness weekend?

I think it was then.

How do you know?

I don't. I just know her.

And I've been ticking over on this for weeks,

and then from nowhere, she says she wants to adopt.

I mean, we talked about it ages ago, but nothing serious.

Yeah, I'd love another kid, but I just don't trust what she's trying to fix.

Anyway, that's what you're picking up on.

What do you think?

Well, um...

I'm...

I'm sort of outraged, actually.

On Alice's behalf.

She can't wait to see the back of you for the weekend,

so she slept with someone?

Spike!

Dinah, sorry to interrupt. You never make tea.

Gavin, what is it?

Ma'am wants to see you in her office.

They've closed the blinds.

-"They"? -Marchant.

And some Ken doll with a bum chin.

Sergeant.

This is Chief Inspector Pembroke, Special Branch.

I'm only saying it for him 'cause I know he practises it in the mirror.

Care to explain yourself, Sergeant?

We pulled that in this morning.

I buried my best friend in the ground yesterday.

I know what I risked,

but you've got a UC literally in bed with Dennis Caddy.

So do what you want to me. But I want it on record

that my approach towards Bonnie Sands was entirely--

With my full sanctioning.

Well, we'll see about that.

What was it that Sands said to you when you approached her?

You're Bonnie's handler, you can ask her yourself.

Holy shit.

-Has gone rogue on you? -It's complicated.

It'd better be! Talk.

Five months ago, we heard chatter

that Lionel Dirkin was grooming ex-soldiers

to commit a series of attacks.

-Tell me something I don't know. -Well, Dirkin's untouchable.

But Dennis Caddy is Dirkin's bagman, hence Bonnie Sands.

It was her idea.

Who would think that the police would plant a black UC in a far-right group?

It worked.

She informed us of a sexual relationship with Caddy, which we authorised.

Well, why didn't she give us a heads-up on McCoy or on Beckett?

Sands has broken all communication with our team without explanation.

Oh, jeez. You really do think she's turned. I was just taking the piss!

What are you waiting for? Pull her out. Abduct her if you have to!

It's not that simple, Inspector! Extracting any officer's risky,

and if we pull her out against her will,

we can't stop her from returning to Caddy

-and giving the whole bloody game away! -She's pregnant.

In her basket, folic acid...

If this is true, it's hardly evidence that Sands hasn't turned.

Let me approach her one more time. I'll find out if she's turned for real.

-You? -Yeah.

It's my find,

and the only thing we do know is that she sure as shit's stopped trusting you.

-Sir. -She is right.

You said yourself that Dirkin is untouchable.

Since Beckett's a ghost, the only link between them is still Dennis Caddy,

so if you've got an agent in play, let's use her.

Oh, come on, Tom. Pull your dick out of your Xbox and phone your boss.

You can tell him it was your idea. You will anyway.

I'm not racist. I'm just a mum struggling to make ends meet.

It was this one's birthday party today.

And what if I'd have fed her poisoned meat

'cause I didn't know it was halal?

We should've been told. The Mayor should've told us!

I could've lost her!

Sorry.

-It's not even her kid. Unbelievable. -Tell me about it!

She's got him ironing her power suits now whilst cooking the dinner.

Viv, you can't curtain-twitch your boss!

She'll be doing the same to me as soon as she's got hers put up!

Oh, no!

No, no, oh, she's coming over!

Right, this house is going on the market first thing.

-What'll you tell her? -Damp!

Hello, neighbour.

Shouldn't this be the other way round?

Come in.

Pembroke's just called.

Special Branch have consented for you to approach Bonnie Sands

to see if she's fit enough to remain undercover with Caddy.

With one caveat.

If anything happens to Sands, the blame lands at your feet.

The glory we share around, am I right, ma'am?

What you waiting for? Approach.

Wait. You're driving.

-Where are we going? -Fact-checking.

NO TO SHARIA

He's expecting us.

Halal isn't a snuck-in E-number, it's a religious choice.

-Everybody should be informed-- -Rashid.

Not because they're a racist. They might be an animal rights...

Nobody had heard of her a week ago, and now she could win.

So this is the first time in four years

I've been home to cook dinner for my wife.

What do you want, Inspector?

For you to spill the beans on Lionel Dirkin.

There's a rumour of him trying to buy out the Manchester Met.

-You think he's involved in this? -Just the beans, sir.

It's no rumour. Dirkin wants to buy out Forensics

and to put his people on the street.

Every time it's been voted for, it's been closed council meetings.

Press and police have been asked to leave.

Trust me, the deal's attractive, it would save hundreds of cuts.

Dirkin's given out backhanders, but I've blocked him every time.

Nobody can sell off the police in good conscience to that racist prick.

He's dangerous.

Permission to go give Dirkin a poke, ma'am?

Granted, Inspector.

Den?

I wouldn't. Not in your condition.

-Dennis, wake up, we've got to go. -Your full name's Bonnie Marie Sands.

Hey, over here, we've got a stalker here!

Your birthday's 27th May 1989.

Jesus Christ, shut up! He could wake any sec!

-No, he won't. -How do you know?

See that barmaid? She's roofied him.

Pembroke thinks you've turned. What do you think you're doing?

Idiot!

He's done so much coke, it'd take an elephant gun to knock him out.

-Screw this. -What you doing?

I've been waiting for him to pass out all night.

-You sped up my vanishing act. -Where you going?

London, to tell Special Branch I'm done.

'Cause you're pregnant?

'Cause you and Pembroke are going to get me killed!

Sleeping beauty's awake.

Stall.

Is everything okay, sir?

-Where's she gone? -Bedroom, I think.

Sorry, mate, your girlfriend took your keys

and went out with her mate.

Sir, come here a sec.

I shouldn't really be saying this,

but they're messing with you. There is no mate.

Wait, you can't walk now.

They stared at you and your girlfriend all night.

They haven't got a room booking. There's no business event here.

They keep raising their wrists to their mouths, like they're smelling perfume.

Right, yeah. Hey! You following me?

I'm fucking sick of it! It's harassment!

I've just bought you 30 seconds.

I told you I'm fucking done!

I can't do this. This is my only way out.

Albion follow me everywhere, I had to get him alone, this is it.

Beckett poisoned that meat for real. Caddy's the only way we can catch him.

You've got to trust me.

I don't owe you anything.

No. No, you don't.

But you owe her.

You may not have remembered Joy but she remembered you.

Swimming pool, one hour.

You're awake?

Thought I was going to have to carry you to bed in the luggage rack.

-Where you going? -I just left this.

C'mon, it's freezing.

Bonnie...

Do the thing.

Can I help you, madam?

You steer well clear of me, or I'll flash this and yell botulin.

Dirkin, I've got a bone to pick with you.

Antoine, can you give us a few moments, please?

Well, you certainly live up to your reputation, Inspector. Please.

-Darren? -Yes, sir.

More water, please.

Where's Beckett?

-Isn't that your job? -Don't fuck with me, Dirkin.

You pulled the halal stunt to humiliate us.

Outrageous, I'm calling my lawyer.

And to oust Hassan and force the council to accept your security contracts.

Anthonia, I'm being harassed by a podgy Boadicea with a badge.

No, that's fine, I'll keep schtum.

I can assure you...

the only thing that beef is blessed with is good old English mustard.

My officer died.

It's not choking that you need to be scared about,

you jowly piece of shit.

It's me. Now, one blink for yes, and two blinks for no.

Do you know where Beckett is?

I said, blink.

Help, quick, he's choking! Help!

All you're doing is giving him brain damage and a hard-on!

Give over!

C'mon, big D, cough it up!

I am going to have your job, you mad bitch!

Whoever becomes mayor, come day one, you are fired.

What for? I just saved your life.

And I've witnesses.

Think on.

You told Pembroke I was pregnant?

It was the only way to convince him you hadn't fallen in love with Caddy.

Albion got positive there was a rat. I had to tell Dennis I was pregnant.

-And Caddy's the father? -Not a chance.

Dennis's balls are clinically drier than a witch's tit.

-He thinks it's a miracle. -So who is?

What's it to you?

It's not a problem and it worked.

Faye, Albion, they still suspect me but Dennis thinks I'm his golden goose.

So, why bolt now?

'Cause I am feeling sectionable

pretending to be in love with a neo-Nazi,

and I've got this mental bint jumping out at me like a Jack in a box!

I can't risk it any more.

That's why I brought him here.

It's the only place I can be sure Albion aren't following me.

Why didn't you warn us about the attack on McCoy?

I didn't know what Dennis was planning until literally the last second,

and I thought it would be Hassan.

That's why I threw the squash at him!

-Faye has got eyes on me like a hawk. -It wasn't enough.

I had no idea about Beckett.

Dennis had never even mentioned him until this.

Pembroke's on the scrapheap. Meet your new handler.

Are you mad?

She's nearly got me killed twice in a day, no way!

Sergeant Kowalska's my best.

I'd keep that quiet.

Caddy's the best chance of getting to Beckett.

You're the best chance we have of getting to Caddy.

If this is a cry for help, it's a shit one

'cause we're not diving in after!

Dinah, kick off your shoes.

Drop the surveillance.

If we drop the surveillance, Caddy'll just think we have another way in.

Gold star, Sherlock.

Then he'll have to trust me more and then he'll have to act.

You want to handle me? That's the handshake.