All language subtitles for No Offence 2015 - S03E03 - Episode 3 1080p bluray dd20 x264-SHORTBREHD.eng

Ma'am wants to know why we've
removed surveillance off of Albion.

Well, strategically, ma'am,
because I asked the undercover officer

to spark the rumour there was a mole
in the Albion organisation.

Something needed shaking up.

We've got Beckett laughing in our public
faces, and all we can see is his arse!

Okay, fair dos. Go on.

Well, if we had a reliable mole,
why would we need surveillance?

And in the absence of information,

we desperately need Dennis Caddy
relying more on his girlfriend.

On the eve of an election,

they remove cover on their only suspects
in the unsolved death...

-Go to pages seven, eight and nine.
-No.

-What the fuck are you doing?
-Nobody's touching that!

-You need to leave now, the pair of you.
-Put the cat down!

Back in your boxes! Calm down. Calm!

Calm right down, please.

My fault, fellas.
I intended pre-warning them.

This task is being done at my request.
Joy's desk is coming in my office.

Yeah, but it's not a shrine.
We're here to work.

And it will be worked at.
And I'm taking no personal effects.

Any used hankies, pictures of cats,
team property.

Your team.

Ma'am.

We have just taken a report of
a homicide at the Jewish Cemetery.

Thank you very much.
Right, where's my wedges?

Come on, Wedgie Benn,
let's have the fellas.

Right, so we've got chicken liver,
bacon double-fried wedges.

4.85. What are you drinking?

There's enough vouchers on there
for a beverage, so I will have a Coke.

-12 pence short.
-Can't be!

Then what happened?

You can't pay for it now,
you have to earn it on the card.

-Fine! Have the cash.
-I will. Thanks.

So this old man and a little girl
walk into a forest,

and she goes, "Oh, I'm scared."

He goes, "You're scared?
I've got to walk home on my own."

Hey.
Smile, your next scran's covered.

You're blocking my passage, ladies.
Excuse me.

A friend of mine wants a word,
Professor.

Mate of Faye Caddy? I don't think so.

With breath like that,
you really should drink more water.

You see, now you're giving me
bonus balls for the paternity claim.

I've said from year dot,
"How's that my kid?"

You go anywhere near my daughter, you
pointless bitch, I'll split you in two.

-You what?
-No sexual reference intended.

Like you still could.

We caught her
in a school rehearsal for Bugsy.

She was trying to be Tallulah.
She was nearly great.

Someone on our side
has been talking to yours.

We've got a mole, and I want its name.

You won't get it from me.

I meant we're the science department.

We specifically don't get access
to strategic intelligence.

Technically, we know less than fuck all.

We've spent our whole lives
bringing the Albion into this century.

You reckon?

And no shitty little rat
is gonna bring it down.

You see, now I'm confused.
Is it a rat or a mole I'm looking for?

I just need to know
if it's black or white.

-Here's a number.
-Use it.

CASHIER MANAGERESS
You're cleaning that up, Santa!

-I'm with the police.
-Course you are!

Do they let anybody in?

NO OFFENCE

Who called this in as a murder, Moss?

The paper lad's mum walking their dog.
One of my men's still interviewing her.

Tell them to leave that to us now,
thanks.

I meant, calming her down so she's fit
to speak to by the time you need to.

You need to pipe that lot right down.
Shouting Beckett's name's not helpful.

Not catching him is not helpful,
Inspector. And maybe they're right.

Election day.
This has got Beckett all over it.

I was brought up on a farm.
This is a fox's work.

I was brought up in a textile factory.

It could've been a chainsaw.
We're not coroners!

Meanwhile, seven violated graves,

and you didn't respond
to a single report.

Hey, Moss, mate. We logged all that.

On those occasions, no-one was hurt.

Yeah, right. Yeah, yeah. But then...

Okay, okay, but standing there
shouting unsupportable tripe...

-Can I say "tripe"?
-You're asking an Asian.

This lot are making themselves a target
for any lunatic who fancies a pop.

Look, Moss! Just shift 'em. Please.
Before we have to.

-When you put it like that.
-Thank you.

All right, folks, can we move
right back, please? Right back.

We're declaring this all a crime scene,
okay?

So let's go, let's move right back.

If we can't catch him because it's your
fault, then it'll be your fault.

Let's go.

That wasn't just a bunch of birds, they
were with Faye Caddy and had it planned.

They must have waited it out
a fuck of a long time.

Even I didn't know
I was coming here till I did.

This costs serious money.
It's more than Faye Caddy's asking.

Look, give us Lena's service provider.

-We'll run it through.
-They've changed contracts.

-She'll be under her mother's account.
-Well, give us Shirley's.

I cannot remember her maiden name.

All I'm getting is Blackpool
and that's not a recollection.

-It's a judgement on her mam and dad.
-Okay, Miller, relax.

Shirley's in a car
on the way to the station.

-Shirley? On her own?
-Yeah.

What the negligent fucking...
We're not talking about Shirley!

Nobody had a picture of fucking Shirley,
did they? Where's Lena?

The headmistress is driving her in
personally.

-What the fuck, Miller?
-What, you don't say that first?

-No! It's just come through, you knob!
-Cheers.

-Right, this is evidence.
-Good, we'll need it.

All three suspects have got
the same description. Fat and mouthy.

That's half of Manchester.

You swerving the lifts to avoid me, Viv?

No, I've just been to the cemetery.
Stairs count as fresh air.

I heard. Could it have been Beckett?

Beckett always leaves his scraggy mark.

I don't think
this is big enough for him.

Election day not big enough?

If he's after disrupting
factions at our expense,

then weren't the Jews
just waiting to be asked?

Miller's family have taken
a threat to two of their lives.

From who?

Faye Caddy is the only name being
flagged up, as yet.

All the others are TBC.

The point being
that we've just proved a circuit.

Albion don't know who the mole is,
hence the threat to Miller.

How can that not be a result, Marilyn?

And with your permission,

we've upped resources to cover
the election count tonight, yeah?

Send the budget for approval.
Choose your words carefully.

I did. You have? It's spent.

If Beckett has been
in Abel Lander's home ahead of you,

then I would suggest
additional protection,

with additional funding
that I would approve before expenditure.

I've made it my mission to stop you

looking like such a bad girl on paper
all of the time.

-Miller, you okay, kid?
-Are they nearly here?

Come here, come here.

They are and they're safe.

I am so sorry
that your family had to take a hit.

But this will have to be short-lived
as downtime.

I need you at Bailey Street Mortuary.

Abel Landers, 78. Controversial death.

-What the heck you wearing?
-It's from Sammy upstairs.

It's all I could find.
All right, I've done it before.

You'll look a lovely taxpayer
in front of Shirley.

-Oh, my God, darling!
-Daddy!

-Sorry, my fault. Sorry, sweetheart.
-Come on, let's give them a minute.

Mum doesn't want to talk to you.

-That didn't need saying, did it?
-She asked me to repeat it

so you wouldn't barge into
the Chief Inspector's office.

What, she's there?

Somebody needs to give me
some facts now.

Okay, you were called Lena
because neither me or your mum

could stand up straight when you
were conceived. That's one fact.

Look, bad people threatened me today.

Well, that's only half true.
Otherwise, why are we here?

They threatened me and mine.

But I swear to you, Lena, I am going
to put these fuckers in their place.

Nobody's sworn since you left.

There's one for you,
there's one for your mam.

The location's scrambled. Choose
a last-minute holiday destination,

one where there's barely any signal,
just until the election dies down.

You and her, you have to be saying
the exact same thing, you hear?

And these will not send pictures,

so the only risk of giving away
your location is that.

Right, I mean hers, not yours.

Look after yourself.

Yeah, I will.

I know it's rude to squeeze,
but I want what your dad can do.

Go on.

I need to know what Lander's death is.

It'll have to be another Skype, ma'am,
'cause I've a lot to answer for today.

Another Skype? How many causes of death
have you done down the line?

Dennis is shifting money around.

It's coming into the house in used
bundles, not from a bank.

-Must be donors.
-What kind of money?

I'm counting nearly 40 grand.
That's usually about the price of a hit.

For Beckett to finish the job
on Caroline McCoy?

He killed a cop, why's it not a bonus?

There's a suspected homicide
at the Jewish Cemetery this morning.

Nah, I'd have heard chatter
if it was sponsored.

Hello?

Hello?

I'm average looks.

Pretty good shape. But really well hung.

Right y'are. Can but ask.

Go on.

I've been asked to pack for a departure.

To where?

It's usually Ireland,
so that's Holyhead initially.

Point being,
all phones are to be left behind.

Categorically, I cannot wear a wire.

Dennis is the only one Beckett trusts
to deliver the wages personally?

More than like, yes.

-So we follow the money.
-You do, fuck! You follow me.

I'm heading into a wilderness with
no means of communication.

You follow us.

You made yourself my handler, Dinah.
I need handling.

Everyone stay back
until we establish no booby traps.

If Beckett's been here, we need to know.

Don't move.

Clear!

What the hell are you doing in there?
What's your name?

Sharania Kimbel. Shaz. I was having
a last chance at remembering him.

And this. I thought he'd have let
the flat go after Clemmy died, but no,

the paintwork looks new.

Good man. God bless.

I asked for a nappy half an hour ago.
Now it's over to you.

Ma'am, this lady needs a bathroom,
sharpish!

-Let 'em all through.
-Clear a space for this lady, folks.

Cover your feet! That's it, thank you.

He's got a specials badge.

What's the face for, now?

The deal, Inspector, where we tell
you absolutely everything

when we're heading into something,
is meant to be reciprocal.

You've crossed the line today.

You failed to disclose
something you must've known.

Abel Lander has five charges
of tampering against his name.

There is no room for mesirah here, Moss.

I'm not having you telling us
what you think we need to know

-in order to protect your own.
-Five complaints,

all by the same complainant,
because she's off her tits.

Diana Bagel.

No, no. She's Diana Bagel.

And for your information, Inspector,
the charges were totally overblown.

He's had a stack to deal with,
old Mr Lander.

He never got over his wife.
He never lived on his own in his life.

He kept it spotless
in case she was watching.

Counting the days he'd be with her.
But he was strong as an ox.

He was going nowhere soon
that I could see, not physically anyway.

From the telly, "You've never had Sky."

From the toilet, "Respect
your friends, wipe your arse."

On the back of the door,
"Got your kecks on, Abel?"

He occasionally forgot his trousers.
Like he forgot many other things.

Only one lunatic persecuted him.

I only ever saw the shorts.

He never had his meat out
to my knowledge.

Sorry, ma'am. I was in the manager's
office. She got past us.

How are you getting Disability
if you can shift like a rat?

There's a dress coat of mine in there,

I never asked it for back
after she died.

You'll know it's mine,
it's got my name in it.

Just from the chatter, we're convinced
Albion had nothing to do with Lander.

-That doesn't mean Beckett didn't.
-Chatter, where?

Can we clear the room
for a guest, please?

Jesus! If it's her mum again, we haven't
time for fucking broken-biscuit jigsaws.

Stuart.

Most of you know Moss.

-He's here to help.
-With respect, ma'am,

we're limited to what we can say
in front of civilians.

-C'mon, Spike.
-Moss has got a specials badge.

And 45% of all Shomrim call-outs
are for non-Jewish populations.

You're welcome.

Do you fancy a coffee, Moss?
You've been at it since dawn.

So primary larvae in the neck wound
tell us that Abel Lander died

between 7:00 and 10:00pm last night,
corroborating witness accounts.

Enzymes at the wound tell us a fox
got to him a couple of hours postmortem.

Although, evidence of a nose bleed
could have been a credible incentive

to a half-starved winter fox.

However that is not what killed
an old survivor, no.

Abel Lander died of a heart attack
induced by a substantial overdose

of anti-psychotics
not prescribed for him.

And we all pray for his sake that
the latter kicked in before the former.

Now, for my money, this is way
too piss-stained to be a Beckett.

-Moss.
-Abel was being stalked by Diana Bagel.

Nicknames are no good to us here, pal.
Fucking bagel...

-That's her name. Diana Bagel.
-Sorry.

Look, I'm not a qualified practitioner,
I know,

but this woman
is categorically off her effing head!

And she's on anti-psychotics.

Correct.
You're not a qualified practitioner.

But the doctors who sectioned her

at least three times
to my knowledge presumably were.

I can get you their names
if your system's too slow.

POLLING STATION

We've offered, but she's refusing...

I don't want any firearms
anywhere near me.

-You won't have a choice tonight.
-No visible weapons!

-That is the whole point, Caroline.
-You've heard nothing from Beckett.

And that's the whole point.

I don't like
what you're asking me to do.

Bulletproof kit for your own protection?

-Looking anything other than me!
-Caroline!

Viv! I've got this far
using nothing but my own voice.

If I have to sit through my own
election count dressed like R2D2,

how is that expressing defiance?
Or even confidence?

With respect, Miss McCoy,
you're not the only one with a family.

-We all deserve protecting.
-Yeah, I know.

And I'm standing for election. Standing!

And if all I'm doing is showing fear,

I might as well just spend
the rest of the day in bed!

For fuck's sake!

Stuart, just tell them
we need five minutes, yeah?

Fucking hell. My make-up's flippin'...

You are just the spit of your mum
at school.

I know you're doing this for her.

-I am, Viv, I'm trying to.
-And I understand what you're saying.

Your whole campaign's been based
on "I will not back down."

But we need you alive to keep saying it.

Ma'am, Lionel Dirkin's in the building.

-Why?
-That is the last thing we need.

-He knew there'd be cameras?
-Hang on.

He'll be teeming with security,
he always is.

Let's start milking it. Let's get you
out of here and home safely

for a lot less than I can afford.
Chop-chop!

It's Stuart, isn't it? Can I just say,
I really value what you do?

-All of you.
-You'll walk it, Caroline.

Can I keep this one?

BALLOT BOX

Miss McCoy. I'm making
no secret of who I'm voting for.

It'll pointedly be anybody but her.

There he goes again, you see.

For all of your allergies to minorities,
mate, you've just voted for one.

PRIVATE HOSPITAL

Yeah, but if you are worried,
and you're not telling me,

-you know I'll do my nut, don't you?
-I do,

but what's doing my nut is, we're going
away and I don't know how long for.

I want checking by somebody I know, not
somebody from wherever it is we're off.

But if you are and I'm not hearing it,
I'd be fucking furious, Bonnie.

Hiya. We need to speak to a Diana Bagel.

Is that your mum?

-Can I ask what this is about?
-You can't, I'm afraid.

Aren't betting adverts depressing
when you're not very good with numbers?

Can we get them taken down?

-Come in.
-Diana Bagel?

I'm PC Tegan Thompson,
and this is Jonah Mitchell.

Poundshop batteries.
They just make them look like batteries.

Mrs Bagel, we need to talk to you
about Abel Lander.

You've had that. You're too late.

Can you tell me exactly
what you mean by that?

I've referred that tricky old nonce
to the Home Office. I had to.

You're welcome to tea,
but the conversation's pointless.

They'll be putting together a top team
to take this way over your heads.

Sit down.

Abel Lander was found dead
this morning, Mrs Bagel.

Next to his wife's grave.

Oh, my good Lord, the poor man!

You tried having him convicted
five times.

So? I only wanted him to rot!

I'm sorry to ask you this,
but can I use your bathroom?

-Again?
-I can't help it!

Leave her alone!

Right, ma'am, let's have a look at this.

CCTV from Abel Lander's
sheltered housing.

Right, arrivals, departures,
going back weeks. Watch this pattern.

-Oh, hello...
-No, these are music students.

They're every Friday without fail.
Same today, except... he never showed.

He can't have known he was dead.
We only released the name an hour ago.

-We'll need to talk to him.
-Yep.

Ma'am?

Bang-on samples
for intimidation of an officer.

Faye Caddy and a bloke with
ovaries called Rosemary Beckwith,

hands like shovels.
They need bringing in.

Hold your horses. Your family's safe.
With your respect and patience, I am--

Gonna do fuck all! What, seriously? My
family's had to be shipped over t'moors!

You weren't rushing
to show your face before.

How's that my fault? I was barred!

How's it not your fault,
you twisted gusset?

Now, Faye Caddy is ours. Please cut me
some slack until this election is over.

If we want to catch
these people properly,

we need to see
how they're thinking first.

Ma'am, we just met Diana Bagel.

-What do we reckon?
-I was having flashbacks to Misery.

Asked if I could use the bathroom.

Got a shot of all the meds I could find
in a two-minute sweep.

Ablimol's Quetiepine.

Quetiepine killed Lander.

Need a warrant for the arrest
of Diana Bagel.

We've just seen him. Is he...?

Yeah, that's Diana Bagel's son.

Keeping it in the family.
Fetch them both in.

Sam, can you tell us
why you never turned up to...?

-Ma'am, this is hopeless.
-A word outside?

-You can't be in here!
-That's my son.

Mr Finestein
is Sam's nominated responsible adult.

-Well, we know him.
-Only for doing fuck all to help us.

-Inappropriate language!
-Beg your pardon.

-Less than fuck all!
-Right, you, out.

-Why pick him, Sam?
-Come on, Mrs Bagel.

-Get off me!
-Stop!

Actually, we will step outside.

If either of them so much as speaks,
you bring one of them...

No, you hoof him out, right?

You all right?

-She said no talking.
-I'm asking if he's all right.

Ma'am, she's not fit to interview.

We should get Dr Peep
in to do a psych assessment.

That's three hours I haven't got.
I need to know this isn't Beckett.

Fuck it. Drop the charges on her
and reinstate her as his guardian.

Can you tell us about your relationship
with Abel Lander, Sam?

-No.
-No, who'd want to put that into words?

Five reports, I filed.
What did I hear back from you lot?

-He's fingering kids willy-nilly and--
-He's a music teacher.

He taught me music.

He's bluffing it
because he got tampered with.

He's been trained through fear
to keep it zipped.

You're going to have to trick him
into saying stuff.

-Absolutely not. Never.
-Lie!

Were you ever assaulted by Abel Lander?

-Never.
-Lie!

Mrs Bagel, this isn't working for us.

No, it won't. 'Cause you're asking
all the wrong questions.

It's like, I've heard nothing
about lubricants,

and that's like step one
for detectives I know.

-Which force?
-Netflix.

I once made the mistake of telling her

that Mr Lander opened the door
with no kecks on.

She went ape. Got fixated on--

I did not get fixated.
I reacted like a mother should.

She got fixated enough to stop me
from going and hounded Abel.

Both of us. She kept ringing the cops,
over and over and over again,

-repeating the first offence.
-Yes, because I'd heard fuck all back!

-Language!
-Well, I hadn't!

Did you ever transport medication

prescribed to your mother
to Abel Landers' house?

Never.

Did Abel Lander
ever have access to your house?

-Yes.
-That's a lie!

-Mrs Bagel. Either shut up or leave.
-Well, I'm not shutting up.

He came round when Mum went to Brittany.

See?

And what happened at your house, Sam?

If you don't want to use filthy words,
Sam, you save them for a judge, yeah?

We were trashing a keyboard
I'd bought on eBay

to make it look like
it cost less than 90,

so she wouldn't find out I'd spent 220.
That was it.

He looked...

We had one of our best days.

He crapped on the sofa,
and I blamed the cat.

My cat?

Interview terminated at 15:50.

You'll be released without charge,
pending further investigation.

Whoa, fella.
You can't be in here unsupervised.

-I was asked to leave the interview.
-Yeah, back to the main building.

You're not allowed to loll here
gathering selective intelligence.

I beg your pardon?

Are you changing your mind
about protecting one of your own?

Well, don't. You'd go down with her.

Okay.

I think the kid did it.

Him?

If Lander committed suicide,
he can't be buried with his wife.

How does that work? Who's kidding who,
if Lander knows it's coming?

He'd have to specifically not know.

And we reckon he'd have it in him?

He's the only person I know
decent enough.

Ma'am. If they're leaving,
we need to get Sam's clothes off him.

-Why not? Everybody else has.
-With your permission?

This is your handwriting?

Yes.

You spent a lot more time round
there than just the lessons?

Tonnes more.

You took care of him?

No, mate. Not cool.
We don't want anyone else in here.

Look at me.

And you say nothing. In fact...

How's your memory?

Right, well, you remember every
single word that got said in there,

and you say nothing else.
Repeat only that, not one word more.

My dad fucked off, an'all.

Just bringing out the father in me.

Right, stick that lot back on.
I'm not interested.

Give him time to get dressed
and take him back upstairs, please.

Sir.

Can you spell that for me, please?

I've said I'll talk to him, so...

Yeah, put him through.

So sorry. Spike, now!

Sarge. Interview terminated 16:06.
Excuse me.

-Miller.
-Listen,

I'm hearing there was
a power outage at the labs this morning?

So? I just paid £8.50
for a pair of tights.

No, I mean...

Any stuff that needed spectrometry
might want putting through again.

Because?

Admissible evidence.
Or inadmissible, it's your shout.

Send everything back.
And tell them I'm not paying for it.

Too right, ma'am.

Not only is it not beneath him
to take the rubbish out,

but he's found it
in his heart to do it again.

Natalie, those are returned samples
on stuff that went through earlier.

One of the inspectors
is requesting re-runs.

-Inspector Deering?
-Yeah, Deering.

And she's on the warpath, so...

About to stick me back in your pocket?

-Only because I have all this to...
-There's no-one else in here.

-Dinah and Spike are on the move.
-Not on their own, they're not.

I've sent a bunch of brick shithouses,
armed to the teeth.

I put in a request
for aerial surveillance

but it's not looking good
at short notice.

We've got a tracker
on the vehicle, ma'am.

-Without a warrant?
-What?

Without a warrant. What have we said?

For your information, the tracker
was fitted at the request of the owner.

-Or one of the owners.
-That's only just occurred to you now?

Big deal! We can't yet prove
where the money's headed,

but we're pretty certain
it's going to end up with Beckett.

It was an act of expediency.

-But we file for the warrant?
-Fine.

I didn't even want to go...
but I'm going to have to now.

Right, they've done a left.

No, wait.

He's pulled
into the Rosehill Garden Centre.

How rock'n'roll's
a garden centre for a drop off?

No, this is Dennis. He's making sure
he's not being followed.

Pull over where you can.

ARU, turn off and sit back
a few streets and await a go.

We're convinced it's not suspicious,

just a cautionary stunt.

Copy that.

I'm not liking this. We need eyes on it.

Listen, I'm sorry for flaring.

Do your family know
that you care this much?

-No, they won't fucking listen, ma'am.
-Come in!

I'm so sorry, ma'am,

but we've had three strikes
on the evidence from Abel Lander's flat.

No, I bow to rank
when it's not just us, Natalie.

Sweet Jesus!

No disrespect to Abel Lander,
but this is like a fucking birthday!

There's a partial print that couldn't
fully put Faye Caddy at the scene...

except her DNA's
under one of Lander's fingernails.

It's only a micro sample,
but it's a 98% match from a 2015 arrest.

Gavin, who is the duty magistrate on?

If he knows it's me,
he'll take it in the bath.

We need a warrant drafting
for Faye Caddy. Now.

I can save you a lot of trouble
finding her.

I know exactly where
she'll be by, say... teatime.

Take a team. Make sure
we're watching the watchers, yeah?

Have you got me a name?

It's my career, if anyone finds out.

It's your family, if you don't.

By the way, you can move them
as much as you want...

It's never taken us more than ten days
to find anybody.

-If only you had that many days left.
-What?

What you...? Fuck off! What you doing?

I don't even know you! I don't even
know him. Look, I'm on my own, here.

I didn't believe it, either,
but he is, he's with the police.

First time your name cropped up,
threatening behaviour.

Shouted "parasite" at a
three-year-old blind girl in public.

She wasn't blind. That was the point.
Her parents were milking it!

-Parasite? From you?
-She could see better than me.

And the definition of that word
is what got me acquitted.

She was a three-year-old girl.
Of course she's a parasite.

I'm going to start screaming
in a minute.

You need to calm down and listen.
This is the only chance you'll get

to find out
what Dennis will make of all this.

All what?

You're about to be charged with
the hate-crime murder of Abel Lander.

-Who?
-I'll leave it to a jury to work out

how you tried framing Diana Bagel,

using medication specific to someone
with an enduring grudge.

I categorically don't know anyone
called fucking Bagel.

You won't get this to stick
past the first lawyer.

It's actually going to stick
like shit to a blanket, Faye,

because you left DNA traces
at both addresses,

the one you burgled to nick the meds and
blame a schizophrenic with a vendetta...

Fuck off! I wouldn't touch a
schizophrenic with a barge pole.

And Lander's flat,
where you spiked his drink.

Oh, right.

Is this what
your "science department" does?

It plants evidence?

No, Faye.
We tell stories with solid objects.

No one's going to swallow
that shit. And I'll have alibis.

Dennis won't vouch for you!

This is a receipt you signed
for police money. That's your signature.

That signature
was for 50 quid off the BBC,

which you've got by deception.

And, point of law,
I never got that money.

Tough shit, Faye. You were the only one
who actually signed their own name.

And when Dennis sees six backdated
payments for non-specific services...

same dabs on each one, well, face it,
you couldn't look more like a mole.

And also face it...
this is you,

talking to the most dead cop
in our world on the day she died.

Now, it'll be suggested
that she was handling you.

But there's stuff we'll never know,

what with Joy taking secrets
to her grave.

Now, I think you're safer
copping for Lander

than Dennis waiting for you to get out
and pay his dues for loyalty.

I never got the chance to say,
don't fuck with me, Faye,

so this is sort of me saying it twice.

Why are you threatening me with that?

You're the only one
that sounds remandable on there.

I'm going to store it for my daughter
so she can hear it after I'm dead.

Inspire her to make sure
that you're kept where you're put.

See, if nothing else, she's got my gob.

He picked here because he knew

the camera system only covered
staff vehicles. Wasn't an accident.

UNKNOWN

Bonnie, that wasn't quick.

-You all right?
-No!

What?

There's a proper Shell stop
in two minutes.

But no, I got a Little Geoff and spent
ten minutes wiping piss off the seat...

Gavin, we need some navigational help.
Get the big map out.

We've picked up some location markers.

We're looking for a Little Geoff shack
near-ish to a Shell stop.

Within a couple of miles
of a Shell stop.

What're we looking for?

You're on speaker.
Miller's here, Is that okay?

Yeah, or I'll fuck off if you want.

Actually, Gavin, put Miller on the map
and you trace a number for me.

07700 900 463.
We need to know where it's heading.

We're assuming westbound.

He certainly looks
like it's going to swing your way.

-Actually, he looks haunted.
-And he made a shit decision.

Kept his kids off school
when no-one else was allowed.

It's a hard judge who'd twat a fella
for sheltering his family.

I don't care, he knows it.
Even if he wins, he's fucked.

Whoa, you mad bitch!

-Sorry, ma'am.
-What were you told?

Stuart escorts you from the vehicle,

only when the other team
arrive for shelter.

Sorry.

It's nerves.

So the only Little Geoff
they could have hit

that's near a Shell stop
is Springhill Cross.

Yeah, that's not too far from here.
Let's go.

We've got them located, currently,
in a village called Brompton Mead.

-ARU, are you getting this?
-Yes.

Don't stay too far back.

Actually, the opposite.

Since we've got a good idea of where
we're heading, I want you to split up.

Dinah, I want you to stay on the A537.

-Will do.
-ARU units, approach from the eastbound

-to avoid exposure.
-Understood, Ma'am.

Can you just explain something?

If I could, I would,
but I can't, babe, no.

I meant, why we have to lose a Jag

and end up in an old Corolla
with duff heating?

Gavin. Right,
we're looking for a Corolla!

Well done, missus.
Fuck, she knows her stuff.

I repeat, a Corolla,
heading westbound towards Liverpool.

That really narrows it down, Spike.

She's not as scared as I am,
is she, ma'am?

She's not, Stuart.

Can I have all metal objects
in the trays, please?

Then step forward for scanning, folks.

Madam Mayor.

If you'd lost tonight,
were you gonna break in with these?

That is just running one home
and one business.

Jonah. On the night of the hustings,
were the candidates searched?

No, they were all fast-tracked. Why?

Ma'am, I'm not getting this.

This is too much meandering for just
heading for Holyhead on an A-road.

-Ma'am?
-I'm agreeing with you, Spike.

Springhill Cross... I've seen
Springhill Cross on paperwork recently.

Ma'am, it's Dirkin's house.

-Seriously, ma'am?
-They're going to Dirkin with the money?

We thought he funded them.

LADIES' TOILET

-Jesus, what's the gun for?
-Gun?

Dennis, where are we going?

They've asked me to kill Beckett.

-But I've decided not to.
-What the fuck does that mean?

We haven't led Bonnie
down the garden path here, have we?

I mean like... literally?

No, scratch that, no, no.

He's not going to pop a woman
who's carrying his kid.

He would if he thinks it's not his.

-Well, is it?
-No.

Apparently not.

Dinah, you're going to have
to drop your speed.

They've just turned into Dirkin's house.

Get out the car! Put your hands up!
Out the car, now!

Armed police, armed police! Move!

Dirkin's been hit.

One in the chest, one in the balls.

His boyfriend identified Beckett.

He got off before we arrived.

Beckett is still alive.

And the incumbent mayor,
Kashif Hassan, 13,246 votes.

Leaving Miss Caroline McCoy with
an overall majority of 24,321 votes.

I hereby announce that Caroline McCoy,
Independent,

is duly elected
Mayor of the City of Manchester.

People of Manchester, we salute you!!

My sweet Jesus.

He meant to miss.