Original subtitles

you testified at the original trial

in your capacity as forensic psychologist.

FINNEGAN: I did, yes.

Perhaps you could summarize.

I was firmly of the view

that Lizzie Shakespeare murdered her husband

He may have beaten her, as alleged,

but I do not believe that her knife attack

was, as she claims,

a spur-of-the-moment act of self-defense.

Her state of mind?

Entirely rational.

She knew precisely what she was doing.

And havonitored the appellant

during her two years in prison,

your view now?

The same.

I can see no medical grounds

for a release or for a transfer

to a psychiatric hospital.

So you would refute a defense

So you would refresponsibility.

Absolutely.

Lizzie Shakespeare is and was 100% competent,

responsiblactions.

Thank you, Professor Finnegan.

The question is:

"Has any compelling new evidence been laid before this court?"

Answer: "No."

We're therefore minded to agree with Professor Finnegan--

Lizzie Shakespeare is and was 100% competent.

The conviction stands.

Appeal denied.

Finnegan, you are the scum of the earth!

This is all down to you!

I swear to God you'll be sorry!

(birds chirping)

NEWSWOMAN (on radio): As his daughter resumed her life sentence for murder,

Noel Shakespeare vowed yesterday

In a staMr. Shakespeare,

who has mortgaged the family home to pay legal fees,

said he was...

(radio turns off)

FINNEGAN: Close your eyes.

Okay.

Which hand?

That one.

That's beautiful.

Thank you.

What's the occasion?

Does there have to be an occasion?

Have a good day.

Mm-hmm.

s) Mm-hmm.(engine start

MAN: You're not eating.

Dad, I'm fine.

The police have still got Finnegan's body--

what's left of it.

The memorial's today,

which means drinks on me tonight.

A man's dead and you're gloating.

This is a break for us, Lizzie.

With Finnegan gone we stand a good chance of a second appeal.

The man had a wife.

I haven't been able to hold a proper funeral,

but I... I can at least plant this rose in Dermot's memory.

Thank you all for coming.

(church be

I'm so sorry.

MAN: Waste of time, this.

Oh, yeah?

Well, you've killed a bloke, right?

The place is crawling with coppers.

Are you seriously going to show?

You'd have to be a pepperoni short of a full pizza.

Any more tea?

(tea pouring)

What's your governor's Missus doing here, anyway?

Uh, she knew Finnegan.

He was her mentor when she was starting out.

Oh, no.

Sleep with her, did he?

What?

Well, I worked with him.

Ladies' man.

Known for it.

Mind you, I wouldn't say no,

preggers or not.

And they say romance is dead.

My condolences again, Mrs. Finnegan.

We are doing everything we can.

Have you met my wife Helen?

I shadowed your husband

on a case years ago.

He taught me a lot.

I'm so sorry.

Thank you.

Um, which case?

A murder-- Peter Stephanopoulos?

Oh, yes, yes, he killed his business partner.

Crikey, that was years ago.

Nice touch, Grace--

the rose.

Mind you,

cactus would've done the old goat just as well.

Hello, Maureen.

Inspector Lynley, his wife Helen.

Maureen Finnegan.

HELEN: You're the professor's sister?

MAUREEN: First wife.

I kept the name-- the one thing the old goat

couldn't take away.

All back to yo

Finnegan's wake?

GRACE: Yes, I hope you'll join us.

MAUREEN: Once more with feeling, Gracie.

But I will, all the same.

HAVERS: Well, who's driving-- man or woman?

Uh, can't tell.

Well, get a number.

I can only make out the first half.

(sighs)

GRACE: It was good of you to come all the way from Dublin.

Dermot would've appreciated it.

Really?

Tell you what, Gracie, you won't want to be on your own,

not for a week or so.

Why don't I stay, look after you?

She's well taken care of.

Don't worry.

Excuse us.

WOMAN: I was telling Inspector Lynley

how well you were bearing up.

I can't take your happy pills forever, though, can I?

They'll help you through the worst, won't they?

I take it you're Mrs. Finnegan's GP?

No, a friend of the family.

Tessa is my tower of strength.

Have you chosen a name yet?

No, we're still negotiating that one.

When you feel up to it, I neask you some questions

about your husband.

Um, well, now is as good a time as any.

Um, some fresh air?

Beautiful gardens.

25 years probing the criminal mind,

Dermot said he'd had enough of people--

preferred plants.

Oh, this was his hideout.

He used to come here to work, think.

Did he discuss his cases with you?

Hardly ever.

Too grim, he said.

So no particular names spring to mind-- grudges?

Afraid not, no.

The bomb was planted on the night

of the Lizzie Share appeal.

Your husband arrived home at 10:00, yes?

And the bomb itself?

Crude, um, but straightforward.

We're waiting on the lab reports.

Not necessarily, no.

We're considering all possibilities.

Including me?

Well, I'm afraid I am duty-bound

to ask where you were.

Honestly...

No, no, he's just doing his job.

I was here with my husband.

Thank you.

There is one thing I should mention.

Dermot told me he'd been getting anonymous calls--

a man saying, "Do the right thing--"

then hanging up.

HELEN: When?

TESSA: Hmm... about three, four weeks ago.

Why didn't he tell me?

Didn't want to worry you, I suppose.

s your excuse, too? Didn't want to worry you, I suppose. And that'

Yep.

Well, we'll look into the phone company records.

If anything else comes to mind...

All sorted.

Found a nice spare room.

Oh, don't thank me.

Just happy to help.

I... I really don't think I'm up to company at the moment.

Excuse us.

I'm staying.

Clear?

And spare me the crocodile tears.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Don't come the innocent, Grace.

Not with me.

Well, if I had the full registration,

I'd give it you, wouldn't I?

Look, just speed it up, okay?

You can be quite scary sometimes.

LYNLEY: Okay, what have we got?

Well, we've got half a registration

and... and this.

Came alone, didn't speak to anyone.

MAN: Was she at the party?

It's a wake, Turner.

And, no,

she wasn't.

Anyway, let's go.

According to a family friend,

Dr. Tessa Jellicoe,

there's been a spate of anonymous calls recently

telling Finnegan to "do the right thing."

Something to do with the Lizzie Shakespeare appeal?

Maybe...

So we're off to see the father now.

He's got a pub near Broadway.

I see.

There a problem?

Well, it's just it's a bit irregular.

I know, but, A) I knew Dermot,

and, B) maternity leave is driving me insane.

I've got to keep the brain

from turning to mush.

Uh, you and Turner get to work

on the mystery woman, and I want you

to check out Finnegan's outhouse.

Right, sir.

Thanks very much.

(Grace sighs)

GRACE: Sorry, no, not a clue.

Nor me.

I'm surprised there weren't more of them

crawling out of the woodwork.

More of who?

His bits of fluff-- floozies.

Maureen...

Okay, uh, just to be clear, um--

and I'm sorry if this is awkward--

but, uh, Professor Finnegan

was married to you, uh...

when he started seeing you, yeah?

"Seeing"-- is that what they call it?

The answer is yes.

Is there anything else?

It's been a long day.

Uh, Inspector Lynley said something about an outhouse?

"Nicholas... Joseph..."

Alexander.

"Jennifer."

He'll have hell at school.

(giggles): Silly man.

So tell me, what was Dermot Finnegan really like?

Charming, inspiring, very clever.

It sounds like someone had a crush.

Hardly.

Anyway, that was years ago.

"George!"

Trying to change the subject.

Honestly.

Is that a gun cabinet?

Yes, yes, um, Dermot used to like to give the rabbits

a run for their money.

All above board.

The permits are here.

Thanks.

I'll, uh, I'll leave you to it.

Okay.

(footsteps approach)

All right?

Yeah. Anything?

Nah, but I'll meet you out front, yeah?

Okay.

NOEL: Ladies and gentlemen, friends,

my Lizzie should be here, but she's not,

so the fight's still on.

I'm lobbying for a second appeal,

which means more lawyers,

which means more money.

Gentlemen.

Thank you.

Max. Thank you.

Sir.

My advice-- face facts.

Right or wrong, Lizzie is going to serve her full sentence.

Over my dead body.

Noel, you need to get on with life

and you need to let people have a pint

without a lecture on British justice.

Losing faith, Max?

(scoffs)

Losing readers.

Lizzie's had more front pages than any other story.

She's not a story, she's my daughter.

Uh... Mr. Shakespeare?

D.I. Lynley.

You've got a nerve.

I beg your pardon?

Where were your lot when Lizzie needed you?

Seven times she reported that brute--

seven times in nine years!

Well, as I understand it,

there were never any witnesses,

no third-party corroboration

so the police couldn't prosecute.

And your daughter repeatedly refused to press charges.

Of course she did-- she was petrified.

I'm here investigating

the murder of Professor Finnegan.

Now, if there's somewhere more private we can talk...

(door hinges squeak, then door shuts)

LYNLEY: Where did you go after the appeal?

NOEL: Came back here.

Am I a suspect?

Were you open siness as usual?

The show must go on.

Am I a suspect?

I'm merely trying to establish the facts, Mr. Shakespeare.

Where were you between 10:00 p.m. that night

and 8:00 a.m. the following morning?

Here.

Closed at 11:30, went to bed.

No witnesses after closing time.

The wife's long gone.

Gone where?

Australia.

Apparently I'm obsessed, impossible to live with.

You use the Internet?

Got a Web site: freelizzie.com.

Mind if I ask what other sites you use?

If I say no?

We get a warrant.

LYNLEY: Tell me, did you ever contact Dermot Finnegan directly?

Professor psycho- bloody-babble?

No, I did not.

Lizzie's got life, thanks to him.

Bleeding shrinks-- bad asyoulot.

Actually I'm a shrink: police profiler.

Yeah? Couldn't get a proper job?

Helen happens to be

one of tess.

She's also my wife.

Can I ask why you use this ex-cons Web site?

What?

HELEN: You've never been inside, have you?

Trying to find other poor sods

who'd been stitched up by Finnegan's "expertise."

One miscarriage of justice down to that charlatan

and his reputation's shot.

To help Lizzie's appeal?

Too right.

So what have you found?

Nothing yet.

Hope springs eternal.

I'd like to take your computer, please.

Why?

Have our experts analyze the hard disk.

Any objections?

LYNLEY: So, Mrs. Psycho-babble, verdict?

HELEN: On Shakespeare?

Totally obsessed.

And who can blame him?

His daughter's beaten for years,

then ends up behind bars for trying to protect herself.

I'd be pretty deranged, wouldn't you?

Well, she didkill her husband.

In self-defense.

Does that make it all right?

No, it makes it complicated.

Question is, did Shakespeare use the ex-cons Web site

like he said he did,

or was he trying to find a hitman to kill Finnegan?

(engine starts)

(birds chirping)

Havers.

Uh, just to let you know, uh, no luck yet on our mystery mourner.

Right. Well, keep at it.

Anything else?

HELEN: Barbara?

Uh... no, sir.

Hi.

Hi.

Are you coming in for supper?

I expect she has plans.

Yeah, thanks all the same.

Hot date?

Hot bath.

Right, that's it, come on.

MAUREEN: Let's not mince words, Grace.

His motto was "anything with a pulse."

I'm not saying he was perfect,

but he was kind and generous.

The presents?

Guilty conscience.

Lord knows he had enough to feel guilty about.

I do wish you wouldn't go on.

(sighs)

The good old days.

I'm not interested in the past.

Ah.

Suit yourself.

Silver.

Very nice.

Do you know who you remind me of?

Me, 20 years ago.

Little miss meek and mild.

(chuckles): Assertiveness training--

that's what you ed.

Changed my life.

I don't want you to take this the wrong way,

but how long are you thinking of staying?

Till the will is read.

The will?

Why, surely you don't expect...

Like I said,

Catholic guilt running through him like a stick of rock.

He'll see me right.

(doorbe

Excuse me.

I thought a casserole wouldn't go amiss.

Don't suppose you feel like cooking.

Thank you, how thoughtful.

MAUREEN: Bit late though, or we'd invite you in.

It's only half past nine.

Stay for a glass of wine.

MAUREEN: You've just lost your husband.

Well, I know, but...

You need your rest.

Right, Doctor?

I... thought you might like company.

She'sgotcompany.

(gasps)

Um... well, um, another time, then

Good night.

Right.

Morning, sir.

Morning.

Uh, thanks for last night.

LYNLEY: Pleasure.

So what have we got?

Uh, we've got some old love letters--

uh, found them in Finnegan's outhouse.

Told you: ladies' man.

Anything juicy?

This might be something, sir.

SOCO found them about a hundred yards

from Finnegan's house.

Parts of the bomb?

Maybe. They think

it might be fragments of the casing.

I've been trying to work out

if it's one word or all bits of different words.

Well, keep at it.

Anything else?

TURNER: Yep.

News on the Chevy at Finnegan's memorial service.

Possible registrations, 27 names.

Yeah, we've eliminated 12.

Lucky 13, I'd say.

Sir?

Peter Stephanopoulos.

Helen mentioned him the other day

as being one of Finnegan's past cases.

LYNLEY: I'll give her a call.

I get it.

Get what?

(dial tones beeping on phone)

You and him.

Romeo and Juliet.

(scoffs)

More like Punch and Judy actually.

Oh, yeah.

Yes.

(phone line ringing on other end)

WOMAN: And relax down.

(cell phone rings, Helen sighs)

Other side.

Left, take it up.

Exhale.

INSTRUCTOR: And relax.

Again.

Tommy, terrible timing.

Sorry.

Um, could you tell me about that case you did with Finnegan:

Peter Stephanopoulos?

Estate agent.

Murdered his business partner about 15 years ago.

So he should be out now?

HELEN: I should think so.

And you profiled him as the murderer, yes?

Hardly-- I just shadowed Finnegan.

He did all the work--why?

It seems that your Mr. Stephanopoulos turned up

at the memorial.

HAVERS: He's a mechanic now.

He's got a garage in Lower Upton.

That's not far from Finnegan's house.

HELEN: I'll come with you.

Are you trying to take Havers out of a job?

Ready when you are, sir.

HELEN: Tommy...

I'm pregnant, not brain dead; I'd like to come.

You're on leave, remember?

Finish your class

Could you be a littlemorepatronizing?

I...

I'll call you later.

INSTRUCTOR: Take the right ear down to the shoulder.

(woman exhaling profoundly)

(whispers): Sorry.

? (whispers): Sorry.erything okay

Fine.

Shall we go?

Nice.

Might be able to fit you in tomorrow.

What's wrong with it?

Nothing.

D.I. Lynley and D.S. Havers.

Is Peter Stephanopoulos here?

You'll be lucky.

Gone fishing down by the bridge.

Does he drive a Chevy Blazer, LK46 VLO?

Yeah.

He attended a memorial service yesterday

and we'd like to know why.

Memorial, was it?

He keeps me in the dark like a flaming mushroom.

I'm Janice.

His wife?

Girlfriend, and admin supremo.

before you ask, yes, I know all about his past.d

But he was married, right, to Gina?

Yeah, she did a runner.

Before my time.

Any idea why he'd attend the memorial of a man

who helped put him away for murder?

(phone ringing)

Not a clue.

Excuse me.

Oh, hello.

Hi.

Shouldn't you be at homeg yo ur feet up?

Oh, don't you start.

(chuckles )

Tommy not around?

Uh, no, he's... he's gone out.

Can I help?

Are these Finnegan's case files?

TURNER: Yes, but, uh...

I'm not sure you're supposed to...

I'd kill for a coffee.

Milk, no sugar?

Uh, right.

If my husband calls,

tell him to stay right where he is.

Okay... uh, bye.

Bye.

Well, this is where Janice said he'd be.

Assuming he's actually gone fishing.

(cell phone rings)

Hello.

LYNLEY: You're not still going on aboutthat,are you?

Where are you?

Uh, Lower Upton.

You?

HELEN: About tetes away.

What?

I checked Finnegan's case file on Peter Stephanopoulos.

Found a love letter.

Guess who from?

LYNLEY: One of Finnegan's harem?

GinaStephanopoulos.

No.

HELEN: Written to Finnegan whilher h usband was in prison.

She had an affair with Finnegan

after he put her husband away for ten years?

Looks like it.

(gunshot)

Helen?

(tires squealing)

Helen?

(car thuds loudly)

Helen!

(horn blaring)

(voices on police radio )

Still unconscious.

Lost lots of blood.

And the baby?

Can't say.

not? Can't say.u coming or

Go.

Go, sir, now!

Right, everyone, listen up.

Now, we've got no witnesses, so it's down to us,

and if there is a scrap of evidence--

an atom within ten miles-- then we're going to find it

starting with the bullet.

It wasn't a bullet.

It was an air gupellet.

(engine starts)

(siren blaring)

PARAMEDIC: 37-year-old woman, RTA, six months' pregnant.

Blood pressure 80 over 50; pulse, 110.

Tommy?

I'm here darling, I'm here!

PARAMEDIC: Come on, Helen, stay with us now.

Where the hell have you been?

Total waste of time, I didn't catch a thing.

What, not even the clap?

Don't be silly.

Give us a kiss.

You had visitors: police.

(sighs)

Your wife's recovering from the operation.

She lost consciousness again,

but we're hopeful she'll recover fully.

W-w-what about...

The damage to the placenta was too great.

I'm afraid we couldn't save the baby.

I can't tell you how sorry I am.

LYNLEY: I feel like I'm being punished.

HAVERS: For what?

"Be careful what you wish for."

That's what they say, isn't it?

HAVERS: You didn't want her to lose the baby.

No, of course not.

I just...

she was pregnant...

I, uh...

Well, I...

You weren't sure you were up to it?

Worried about how your life might change?

I mean, I'm no expert, but...

everyone has those doubts.

But this...

This is not your fault.

I should have been there.

And what could you have done if you were?

I don't know-- something.

You time off,

and then... maybe...

Take leave?

Are you out of your mind?

I'm sorry.

Whoever did this is going to realize

they're messing with the wrong... wrong family.

What we need to do is establish a clear link

between Helen and Finnegan.

Apart from the obvious--

this, uh... this Stephanopoulos thing.

Well, um...

there is another angle.

Well, I tried to mention it before, but...

I found this with the love letters.

It looks like Helen was seeing Dermot,

about 16 years ago.

I can read, Havers.

She didn't tell you?

No.

Why didn't you tell me about this yesterday?

I didn't know how.

I'm so sorry.

Where are you going?

If Helen was involved with Finnegan 16 years ago,

then he was still married to Maureen.

And you think she might bear a grudge?

After all these years?

I don't know, but it's a start.

Sir...

This is all a bit too close to home.

I mean, shouldn't you...

Are you telling me what I should and shouldn't do?

You, of all people?

No, I just think...

Youshouldhave told me about this.

Now, you stay here

and you do not leave my wife unattended

for one single second.

Understood?

Won't she want you here when...?

Is that understood?

Sir.

GRACE: terribly sorry.

I hope your wife's going to be okay.

Thank you.

Why are you here?

It seems that my wife was involved

with Professor Finnegan.

MAUREEN: Ages ago, yes.

So you did know?

'Course.

Recognized her at the memorial.

The man kept all their photos-- like trophies.

I see.

May I ask where you were at midday today?

Do you think I had...?

Now, wait a minute... no disrespect to your wife,

but Dermot's phiomen, so littl e time."

Revenge for every single fling?

Huh!

I'd be at it till Doomsday.

All the same, where were you?

Having a late breakfast.

Eggs, bacon...

tomatoes from the garden, wasn't it?

Anything else?

You seem very at home here.

Grace is very hospitable.

Where were you at 12:00?

In the rose garden reading, why?

Well, it's just occurred to me,

the inspector's wife wasn't Dermot's only bit on the side

all thoo, was she, Gracie?

I don't know what you mean?

Well, none of us exactly had the exclusive

on the old goat, did we?

And the green-eyed monster does things

to even the nicest people.

(monitor beeping)

HAVERS: How is she?

TESSA: Progressing.

She's breathing on her own.

Oh, that's great.

Well, early days.

Yeah.

Um, is there any chance of a cup of tea?

Uh... I'm not supposed to move.

Are you worried he might try again?

Here?

Well, we're not taking any chances.

Do you think this is linked

to what happened to Dermot Finnegan?

Um, maybe.

They... did know each other years ago.

They worked on a case together.

D.I. Lynley is checking it out now.

Nurse, tea for D.S. Havers, please.

No problem.

Machine, I'm afraid.

Tastes like sump oil.

Cheers.

Peter Stephanopoulos?

Who wants to know?

STEPHANOPOULOS: Twelve o'clock?

I was fishing.

At your usual spot?

I moved, downriver.

Any reason?

Ten years inside,

I like to go where the fancy takes me.

Catch anything?

Just tiddlers.

Anyone see you?

Nah.

That's the beauty of fishing:

you go for hours, not a soul in sight.

Anyway, why would I take a pop at your wife?

You tell me.

And while you're about it, tell me

why you went to Finnegan's memorial.

Why shouldn't I go?

Well, for starters,

the man was partly responsible

for your serving ten years for murder.

Paying your l ast respects, were you?

I once heard about this Hollywood producer--

real tyrant-- everyone hated his guts.

But when they buried him,

there was a queue round the block.

Not for affection or respect.

They all just wanted to make sure

the old sod was realead.

So I take it you do bear a little grudge towards him.

Well, he wasn't on my Christmas list.

But not because he did his job.

I took a life;

Finnegan helped put me away; fair do's.

Having an affair with your wife

while you're inside?

Now, that's not quite such fair do's, is it?

How do you know about that?

I know she left you...

For him?

Look...

Am I glad Finnegan's pushing up daisies?

You bet.

Did I do it?

Nah.

(door opens)

. (door opens)good timing

Where's the loo?

Uh... to the right, and fourth door on the right.

Oh, please, don't move.

I won't be two minutes, yeah.

Emergency C-section, cubicle four.

But I'm supposed to be...

Now!

Havers?

Where the hell were you?

Well, I was two minutes.

Um, I... I told the nurse.

Outside, now!

What is the matter with you?

Anyone could have got in.

What happened to you?

NURSE: Emergency-- sorry.

LYNLEY: Unbelievable!

Totally irresponsible;

total dereliction of duty.

total dereliction to fight your corner.

I should've got shot of you when I had the chance.

Get Turner down here.

You obviously can't do it by yourself.

HAVERS: Sir.

Yes? What?

Nothing.

Hiya.

(monitor beeping)

How's she doing?

What does it look like?

Blimey, who rattled your cage?

You wanted Finnegan's case files.

Thanks.

Ah! still playing word games?

Uh-huh.

Okay...

half each.

Right-- what am I looking for?

Another link.

She's in here; Finnegan's dead.

They worked together on one case-- Stephanopoulos.

Maybe there's more.

(sighs)

Oh, how did you get on with that woman at the memorial?

Uh, I traced everyone else there.

No one has a clue.

NOEL: That could have been anyone.

Everybody hates journalists.

It wasn't anyone-- it was you!

My guess? One of your readers.

Someone who thinks you're a gutless hypocrite

more interested in flogging papers

than you are in a miscarriage of justice.

Oh, here you go, Max.

The police like a nice graffiti case--

bit simpler than protecting women from brutal thugs.

I need to ask where you were at 12:00 today?

What have I done now?

My wife was attacked.

Why would I attack your wife?

I didn't say you did, I just asked you where you were.

In the back...

writing to my MP... by hand.

You'll get your computer back

when we've finished analyzing the hard disk.

Is your wife all right?

No, she's in hospital.

NOEL: Huh, be careful.

He'll have a picture on the front pagecareful.

before you can say "paparazzi."

We've just lost our baby

and someone is responsible for that.

Well, not me.

And I'm sorry.

But maybe now you know how I feel:

someone you love, something terrible happens,

there's nothing you can do about it--

it's enough to drive any man half mad.

(sighs)

If there is another link

between her and Finnegan, it's not here.

Nor here.

The lads are going for a drink.

Coming?

What planet are you on?

Sorry.

(door opens)

TESSA: She's stable, but still no sign

of regaining consciousness.

Sir, I just want to say I'm sorry about...

Well, you know.

I'm sure she'll be okay.

Medical expert, are you?

No, I just meant...

Yeah, I know.

You can go.

HAVERS: But I thought...

Yes?

Nothing, sir.

All right.

Good night.

Good night.

(monitor continues beeping)

Any news?

Um... no leads in the professor's files.

The Irish police are checking on Maureen Finnegan.

Oh, I'm glad to hear it.

Why?

(sighs)

I don't like her.

Do you think the attack on your wife ties in

with what happened to Professor Finnegan?

Well, hard to say.

HAVERS: We got an address

for, uh... Stephanopoulos's wife.

Cheltenham.

We sent a P.C. around.

The neighbors haven't seen her for days.

Try again tomorrow.

I'll be interviewing Lizzie Shakespearg.

Why?

If her father did have anything to do

with Finnegan's death,

she might have known his plan.

I'll get someone to bring you a blanket.

Thank you.

You know, I could stay tonight, if you like.

No, you go.

Okay.

But I'm leaving here at 9:00,

so I'll need you back by then.

And, um... can you do me a favor?

I'm going to need some fresh clothes and things.

Um... so will Helen.

Would you mind?

No.

Sir, maybe you could get somebody else

to stand guard tomorrow?

Yes, I could.

But um... no one I trust as much as you.

What, even after today?

Especially after today.

And I'm...

I'm sorry.

Right.

Good night, sir.

LIZZIE: So what are you saying--

that my father made a car bomb

and blew Finnegan to bits?

The man runs a pub, for God's sake.

He belongs to the Bowls Club, not Al Qaeda.

Anyone can learn how to make explosives these days,

if they're determined enough.

Look, my mum ran off, left my dad high and dry.

I'm in here, and I wake up every morning

knowing I took my husband's life.

My family's in shreds,

and now you want to hound my dad for something he didn't do?

When do you people stop?

When we get the truth.

Whose truth?

Tell me one thing.

You could have left your husband--

just packed your bags, walked away.

Why didn't you?

It's fine, for ages... months.

Then he gets that look and you know it's coming,

and you know it's your fault.

You burnt the bacon;

you flirted with that bloke at the party;

you're too this, you're too that.

And part of you believes him.

eve it's your fault,

especially later, when he swears he'll never hit you again,

and please don't leave,

because he needs you, and you love each other,

and this time it'll be different.

Only... it's never different.

And you're too ashamed to admit

you haven't got the guts to leave.

That's why I stayed--

shame... and fear.

Thank you for your time.

Got plenty of that.

(cell phone rings)

LYNLEY: Lynley.

TURNER: It's Turner, sir.

How's your wife?

No change-- What have you got?

A body in the river over in Lower Upton.

(investigators talking; muffled radio transmissions)

PATHOLOGIST: See this ligature mark around her neck?

Garroted, I'd say, then dumped.

Body's been in water 24 hour tops.

Whoever did it tied those stones around her neck

to weigh her down.

Didry good job of it.

Wearing the same clothes she was here.

Except the necklace is missing.

So you know who she is?

No.

No... all we know is

that she was in a churchyard the other day.

Well, she'll be in another one soon.

Excuse me.

This yours?

Thanks very much.

Oh, he's lovely.

Yeah...

Only he's a she.

Sorry.

That's all right.

We're thinking of Abigail.

Abigail-- that's nice.

Thanks.

And we're sure that this is the body in the river?

Hmm. Sorry?

Yes, I... I've asked Turner to check the dental records.

Whose?

Well, I thought she mo

That's what he said.

I've also asked him to check with immigration Down Under.

(wheels rolling)

TESSA: Dinner is served.

Thanks, I'm... I'm really not very hungry.

Don't blame you.

The domestic goddess hasn't quite made it

to Gloucester General.

I'll have yours, sir.

What'd you learn on Lizzie Shakespeare?

Nothing new.

Very impressive though.

And I read Finnegan's evidence from the trial.

No doubt about it, he turned the jury against her.

Unfairly?

LYNLEY: Maybe.

That husband of hers was a real brute.

I'm not saying he deserved to die,

but he pushed her right to the edge.

Doctor Khan needs a word.

Excuse me.

(cell phone rings)

LYNLEY: Lynley.

TURNER (on phone): It's Turner, sir.

We've got news on Shakespeare's computer.

Uh... traces of e-mails

between Noel Shakespeare and Peter Stephanopoulos.

Shakespeare has deleted them,

but they're still on the hard disk.

What are they about?

TURNER: We're still trying to retrieve the e-mails.

For now, we've just got the addresses.

How are you getting on with the dental records?

TURNER: I'm on the case.

Listen, I want you to chivvy up the phone company.

Those threatening calls

that Finnegan told Tessa Jellicoe about--

I want to know who made them.

Right.

Helen's instinct was right.

Shakespeare had been in touch with Stephanopoulos via e-mail.

And they both hated Finnegan.

They're in it together.

Shakespeare learns about how to make a bomb on the net,

but he still needs a mechanic to wire Finnegan's car.

Yeah, but that doesn't explain the attack on Helen.

No, but I mean, it's got to be one of them, hasn't it?

Has to be... has to be.

With respect, sir, um...

have you thought about handing this over

to someone less involved?

I beg your pardon.

Well, it doesn't have tobeanything.

What happened to Helen-- well, and to you--

is... well, is terrible,

but I think you're letting it

get in the way of...

g my job. get in the way of...

No, thinking clearly.

Are you making a formal complaint, Detective Sergeant?

No.

Well, it isn't exactly by the book, is it?

Oh, excuse me.

What's that expression?

Pot... kettle... black.

All I'm saying is...

If you're so concerned

about doing things by the book all of a sudden,

then you just do what you have to, all right?

And I'll do what I have to.

(opens door, then slams it)

(knock on door)

(door opens)

(sighs)

There is one way to find out

if it's Shakespeare or Stephanopoulos.

I mean, no guarantees, but it's worth a go.

I'm listening.

Well, if one of them really did have something against Helen,

then maybe we could give them another chance.

To do what?

To have another crack at her.

What?

Try and flush them out using a decoy-- me.

I need my computer back now.

I need my computer back now.e swith it. done

Look, I'm trying to run a campaign.

And I'm trying to find out who murdered Finnegan

and who attacked my wife.

How is she?

Better.

Driving herself back to London tonight actually.

In your posh car?

Hope she's not like my wife.

More prangs than I've had pies.

Does she keep in touch?

No... thank God.

You know Peter Stephanopoulos?

What if I do?

You e-mail each other.

Why?

Pete was one of the ex-convicts I tracked down on that Web site.

Finnegan testified at his trial,

swung the jury against him, same as he did with my Lizzie.

And you hoped Stephanopoulos

rt Finnegan? And you hoped Stephanopoulos

Not him-- his reputation.

Could he?

No, but we got on okay.

He drinks here sometimes.

Any law against that?

Look, you've got me wrong, Inspector.

I didn't take a potshot at your wife,

and the only man I've ever wanted to kill

was Lizzie's husband.

Tragedy is, she beat me to it.

Who made the first contact, you or Shakespeare?

He did.

I got an e-mail out of the blue.

Said he was looking for a way to hurt Finnegan,

blow him out of the water.

Unfortunate turn of phrase.

His reputation.

Odd-- you and Shakespeare--

same story almost word for word.

Anyone'd think you'd rehearsed it.

He did call a couple of hours ago, as it happens.

Said you were snooping around,

looking in all the wrong places.

We'll see.

He also said your wife's on the mend.

Going home tonight, is that right?

What if it is?

Nothing.

Glad she's better, that's all.

Helen?

How do I look?

Very convincing.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

I didn't think.

Body armor?

Yeah-- weighs a ton.

I'm not sure I should be letting you do this.

Sir...

I want to help.

(engine starts)

(another car starts)

Alpha-two-zero.

MAN (over radio): With you, Alpha-two-zero.

Game on.

"Game"?

MAN: Sorry, sir.

(engine starts)

Handles very nicely.

I could get used to this.

Mind on the job, Havers.

Yes, sir.

(engine starts)

Pull back a bit, Alpha-two-zero.

Let her off the leash.

MAN: Right you are, sir.

LYNLEY (over radio): So far, so good.

(monitor beeping)

TURNER: Nurse!

That's a bit too close.

LYNLEY (over radio): Havers?

That is you, sir, isn't it, coming up behind me?

Well, someone's getting friendly.

A bit too friendly.

LYNLEY (over radio): Alpha-two-zero, registration check.

(car beeping horn)

He's flashing me.

(beeping continues)

LYNLEY (over radio): Okay, reel him in.

(sirens wailing)

MAN: Registration check, sir.

It's Dr. Jellicoe.

What is going on?

You tell me.

This is my way home.

I saw your car up ahead.

You were driving like a maniac.

Because I just got a call on my mobile.

Your wife's regained consciousness.

Where were you?

Oh, Tommy... our baby.

I know.

Will she be okay?

We'll run some tests,

but, yeah, she can probably go home tomorrow.

Oh, I'm sorry about all that palaver earlier.

No, no, it's okay.

Look, are you still on duty,

or do you want to tell me about it over a drink?

Yeah.

Thank you.

Always a pleasure to serve the police.

My Pete been in?

No-- lost him again?

Yout you, if he had someone else?

NOEL: Rule number one of running a pub:

See all, hear all, say nowt.

What's that supposed to mean?

Ah, thanks.

So why all the drama earlier?

Well, um... we thought that one of our suspects

might, um... take another crack at D.I. Lynley's wife.

By suspects, you mean...

HAVERS: Well, or her boyfriend,

who seems to be putting it about nearly as much as Finnegan.

I forgot you were friends.

Well, still... men, eh?

What do you make of Finnegan's first wife?

What, Maureen?

Um... I'm not sure-- why?

Well, I worry about Grace.

Maureen seems to be taking over.

She won't let me near the place.

Well, we're checking her out.

I'll let you know.

Will you stay for another?

Oh, no, I'm driving...

and it's the boss's car.

Back to London?

Local B&B.

So there's no Mr. Right waiting up,

keeping the home fires burning?

(scoffs)

That'll be the day.

(engine starts)

(bird calls in distance)

I know it feels like the end of the world,

but we can try again, you know.

Darling...

I don't think I can talk about this right now.

Sorry.

We still don't know...

who attacked you.

Uh...

We're no closer to finding out

who killed your, um...

your friend, Finnegan.

Why did you say it like that?

Helen, I know you were lovers.

(unfolding paper)

Havers... Havers found this

in the outhouse study.

Tommy, it... it was years ago.

I was a kid.

Oh, I know.

I know.

It doesn't matter.

matter.

Its just...

(sighs)

Listen, I'm just glad you're okay, you know?

So glad you're okay.

We'll get through this, I promise.

(glass shatters)

What's happening?

I'm calling the police.

No! I am the police.

(bird calls in distance)

So he saw the car,

assumed you were the guvnor's wife?

Yeah, seems like it.

Worked then, didn't it,

your little decoy trick.

Who's going to pay for the damage?

Uh, we'll sort it out.

What if they come back?

Don't worry about that, love, I'm here now.

Oh, my hero.

Do you do room service?

You don't need a room.

You won't be sleeping.

'Night.

(sighs)

LYNLEY: Your lucky it was a lamp they broke

and not your skull.

HAVERS: We've sent the brick

off to Forensics.

Were you followed from the pub?

HAVERS: Possibly.

Someone inside?

Watching us all along?

Well, I doubt it.

They'd known it was me and not Helen.

Do we know where Stephanopoulos was?

Not yet.

Get on to Shakespeare.

I want a full list of everyone

who was in the pub last night.

Assuming it wasn't Shakespeare himself.

HELEN: All right, I'm ready.

What's going on?

Someone had a go at Havers.

HELEN: While you were being decoy for me?

Yeah. You all right?

I'm fine.

Well, you'd better stay, I suppose.

No, no, no, I said I'd drive you home and I will.

Turner can drive me.

You're obviously still a target, darling.

Well, in that case, the sooner you find out

who's behind all this the better.

All right?

Yeah.

I don't need to tell you

how much I'm relying on you, do I?

No, sir.

I'll be home later tonight.

Then we can talk-- properly.

Okay.

(car starts)

HAVERS: Sir...

I've just got a dental records ID on the body in the river.

It was Gina Stephanopoulos,

who, as we know, was garroted with thin wire, like...

Like a fishing line.

Here they come-- Laurel and Hardy.

LYNLEY: Where were you at 11:00 last night?

Minding my own business.

Enough of the smart-alec stuff.

My sergeant here was attacked.

I was with a friend.

What friend?

No one you know.

Does this friend have a name?

Stacey Carter, local hairdresser.

Local bike.

We were just talking.

Is this a picture of your ex-wife?

Yeah.

She was murdered.

Oh, my God.

Someone tried to weigh her body down with stones,

ey didn't do Someone tried to weigh a very good job of it.nes,but th

She was garroted... with a fishing line.

e She was garroted... witit was me, eh?ne.

Estimated time of death

between midday and midnight on Thursday.

I was here... working till 7:00.

Had dinner with Janice,

went to bed.

And you can confirm that?

Hello?

They're asking you a question.

Oh, my God.

You cheap, lying...

"Early birthday present"?

It's hers!

We had dinner, went to bed...

He went off on Thursday

Don'o her.

Got back late, maybe 11:00.

Shut your mouth.

Gina knew you'd never forgive her, didn't she--

having an affair with the man who put you away for ten years.

So she went to ground.

But she came out for Finnegan's memorial.

That's why you were there, wasn't it?

Am I right?

Once you'd found her...

you couldn't do anything-- too many people--

so you waited, you followed her

and you took your revenge.

I want my lawyer.

LYNLEY: Do you think he killed them both,

his ex-wife and Finnegan?

Motive's there-- technical know-how.

HAVERS: What, enough to build a bomb?

Look, I don't know.

Maybe he learned to use explosives from the net.

Let's get his computer analyzed as well.

He can certainly wire a car.

Can I make a suggestion, sir?

What now?

Well... leave this to me.

You need to go home and take care of your wife.

Well, if you don't mind my saying so.

No.

Thank you, Havers.

TURNER: Evening, sir.

Oh, everything all right?

Yes, sir, your wife's upstairs.

Noel Shakespeare's wife moved to Melbourne last July.

But phone company records show

he made four calls to Finnegan

in the three weeks before Lizzie's appeal,

which ties in with what Tessa Jellicoe said

about threats to Finnegan.

Right.

I'll see you tomorrow morning--

8:00 sharp.

TURNER: Night, sir.

Hi, darling. TURNER: Night, sir.

I've got supper.

Your favorite.

Helen?

I don't believe this is happening.

Do stop moaning.

He left the house to you.

Told you: guilt running through him like a stick of rock.

This is payback time, Gracie.

I was like you, I was the prefect wife,

but he treated me like a dog.

You've been Lady Muck all these years

and I've had nothing.

No, this is nothing to do with guilt.

Why did he change his will three months ago?

What happened?

Look, the man changed his mind, that's all.

People do.

He told you, didn't he?

Well, he told you he was putting you in the new will.

Don't upset yourself.

The house is worth a fortune.

Worst comes to the worst, sell.

They call it "downsizing."

To shop till I drop.

You might want to check your name's on them house deeds

just to set your mind at rest.

Toodle-oo.

GRACE: "Dear Professor Finnegan,

We can confirm your policy does cover multiple sclerosis."

And you knew about this?

Yes.

Hello, you all right?

Fine, thank you.

We're busy.

Dermot came t in confidence.

You knew he had MS,

you knew for three months and you didn't tell me.

He didn't want to burden you

before he absolutely had to,

and I had to respect his privacy.

I'm his wife.

And he would have had to tell you soon the MS was progressing.

A few falls, stumbles,

things he could pass off as clumsiness,

but not for much longer, and he knew it.

Hmm?

Am I right in thinking

he named you as sole beneficiary?

Oh, of the life insurance, yes,

but not in the new will-- as no doubt you know.

What new will?

Oh, Tessa.

How can I believe anything you say?

LYNLEY: A dozen white roses.

Make that two dozen.

No-- no card.

She'll know who they're from.

Thank you.

Hardly makes up for what happened, does it?

Still, what else can I do?

Okay, so what have we got?

Uh, well, we've, uh, we've just had a call from Grace Finnegan.

Uh, not a happy bunny.

nts us to check out Maureen.

Because?

Well, because Finnegan left her a shed-load of dosh,

and... and Maureen knew she was in the will in advance.

So if Maureen wanted the money in a hurry...

Well, it would tie in

with this fax that we got from the Irish police.

She's broke.

She put in a phony insurance claim

for a burglary that didn't happen;

her cottage has been repossessed

and she's been living in a caravan for nine months.

Right, so, we've got Maureen Finnegan...

Noel Shakespeare.

HAVERS: Who made threatening phone calls to Finnegan

and doesn't have an alibi

for the night the car bomb was planted.

And Peter Stephanopoulos,

who we've already got on Gina's murder.

Yeah, but he does have an alibi

for the brick through my window.

I talked to that hairdresser, um, Stacey Carter.

He was at her place that night.

Will she say that in court?

Yeah, I reckon so.

Still doesn't let him off the hook for Finnegan.

Yeah, but still doesn't give us enough to charge him for it.

How much did he leave Maureen in his will?

Over 200 grand.

"Shop till I drop," she said.

She's been gone hours.

Uh, we'd like to search Maureen's room,

if that's all right.

Oh, be my guest.

Top of the stairs, second on the left.

Was this letter the first that you heard about your husband's MS?

Yes.

He confided in Tessa.

MS can be very unpredictable apparently.

Dermot could have had another ten, 20 years,

and I can't help wondering...

What?

Well, he wrote Maureen into the will

MS. Well, he wrote Maureen into the willound out about the

She obviously knew she was in line for money.

Question is, did she know he was ill as well?

MAUREEN: So...

What do you think?

Amazing what a little cash can do.

Well, you know what they say: shrouds have no pockets.

How did you know you were included in the will, Mrs. Finnegan?

Oh, Dermot told me.

Phoned me to say he had MS.

He toldyou?

Yes.

So... the whole bloody world knew except me.

I am so sick of being treated like a child!

Then stop behaving like one.

Can we get back to Professor Finnegan, please?

He'd said he'd been doing a lot of thinking

since he was diagnosed.

Dermot didn't know how long he had left

so he wanted to put his affairs in order,

make it up to me.

For?

Screwing half the country; running off with Grace.

Catholic guilt, Inspector, repentance, nothing like it--

especially when you think you're about to meet your maker.

I thought confession was meant to take care of guilt.

Confession?

Finnegan?

The amount that man had on his conscience

he'd have been in that box months-- right, Gracie?

Sorry...

the great taboo.

Well, I don't know about you, but I need a cup of tea.

MAUREEN: He said, "You get the cash and Grace gets the house

plus the life insurance."

It's worth about 300,000, isn't it?

I've no idea.

I believe you, thousands wouldn't.

Are you making an accusation?

I wouldn't dream of it.

But the poor man had MS.

Handy for Gracie that he's not going to be around

to be a burden for God knows how many years.

I loved him.

So did I.

Even though he beat you?

You searched my room.

With Mrs. Finnegan's permission.

It is her house.

And those are mine, too.

Wrong... mine.

Dermot's presents.

I took nothing when I left him,

not even a suitcase.

LYNLEY: And, uh...

what about these?

My doctor's idea...

in case I plucked up courage to charge, but I... I neverd.

And is that how it was for you, too?

Certainly not.

Oh, come on, Gracie, the man beat you to a pulp!

That's enough.

Always sorry, wasn't he?

Always buying those little forgive-and-forget presents--

silver for me and ornaments for you.

And every time the remorse...

"I wish I could stop.

I wish to God I could change, Maureen."

And I'd say,

"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride."

I want you out of my house now.

Fine with me!

And what about the fraudulent insurance claim

you filed in Dublin?

Not according to the Irish police.

I was never charged.

u have no grounds Ito charge me now,d.And yo

with that or anything else.

You can go... for now.

You leave my silver.

My silver.

I earned it.

Sir, was she suggesting

that Grace murdered Finnegan

for the insurance money?

Not in so many words, but, yes.

That could be why she's so adamant

he didn't beat her.

I mean, it gives her motive.

And her alibi was Finnegan.

Either way, she's not going to tell us.

No, but if Grace was being beaten,

who would she go to for help?

Someone who was a close friend and a doctor.

Tessa Jellicoe.

Let's go and see her.

(cell phone rings)

Hello, darling.

Thanks for the flowers.

They're gorgeous.

How are you feeling?

Tired.

Well, feet up.

I'll be back as soon as I can

and we'll...

Tommy, I've had a long chat with my sister.

And?

She's invited me to stay.

What, in the country?

That's good.

Yeah, I... I'll meet up with you there.

That's... not what I mean.

That's... not what I mean.ybe we need some time apart.

I think... I think what we need is...

is to talk.

Darling you've had a terrible time,

but we'll get over this, you know?

Hold on.

Havers, I'm sorry to do this to you again.

Its no problem.

I'm on my way.

I've told Penny I'm coming.

Tell her you've changed your mind.

Tommy...

Are you sure you don't mind?

No, if you could just drop me off

at the hospital, yeah?

(knocks on door)

MAN: Can I help you?

Uh, yeah, I was looking for Dr. Jellicoe.

She's off duty.

Well, any idea where she'd be?

Well, there's a pub in town where her lot meet sometimes.

What do you mean, "her lot"?

You know, lesbians.

What's wrong with that?

Oh, being a lesbian's fine with me.

Snogging a patient, a vulnerable one,

that's a whole different ballgame.

Look, I'm investigating a murder.

If you've got some professional misconduct grievance

then take it up with the hospital authorities...

ORDERLY: What?

Oh, my God.

What is it?

Uh, this "vulnerable patient," who was she?

(ornament clatters)

Feeling better?

No.

It's a new chapter, Gracie...

for both of us.

What do you mean, "for both of us"?

(cell phone ringing)

Yes, Havers?

Uh, I've got a breakthrough, sir.

Well, I think.

Um, a nurse just told me

he saw Dr. Tessa Jellicoe kissing a vulnerable patient,

a woman.

Who?

Well, Grace Finnegan--

bruises all over her face

like she'd been beaten.

Regular customer, going back years.

She's been coming in wearing scarves

trying to hide her face.

So they were lovers?

Helen?

Well, it looks like it.

Um... also Tessa's been busy on the Internet

researching explosives.

Good God...

Yeah, and then I saw the "sharps" box.

's what they use to get rid Yeah, and then I saw of contaminated needles.. It

And?

A sharps box, sir-- S-H-A-R.

A sharps boRight.-- S-H-A-R.

So where's Tessa now?

Uh, well, my hunch, with Grace Finnegan.

Sir?

I'll meet you there.

What about Helen?

I said I'll meet you there, all right?

Everything all right?

Not really, no.

Is that the box?

Yeah.

Where are they?

Uh, they're in the garden.

Come on, then.

It's not love, its not-- it's control.

LYNL: Dr. Jellicoe, we'd like a word, please.

About?

HAVERS: You were seen by one of your nurses

kissing Mrs. Finnegan.

We had a relationship, yes.

I ended it.

Which is none of their business.

Would you have any idea how the casing of the bomb

that killed Professor Finnegan

was a hospital sharps box?

No.

And I'm sorry,

I can't talk now, I'm late.

Whoever planted the bomb probably assumed

there'd be nothing left after the explosion.

They were wrong.

Really?

ovements Really? for your m

on the night the bomb was planted

in Professor Finnegan's car?

I was at home.

Can anyone verify that?

No.

Your computer at work, uh, do you use the Internet?

What if I do?

Are you aware that whenever you use any Web site--

to make explosives, say, or to build a bomb--

that that visit is logged

and stored on a computer's hard disk indelibly?

You had no right!

You would never have left him.

16 years she put up with it.

The usual thing, men like Finnegan, it's all about power.

And the same old pattern:

He'd be okay for months and then he'd lose it.

And you'd come running back.

"Take care of me, Tessa,

"but don't tell anybody, because I love him

and it's not his fault."

I did love him.

Yes, but itwashis fault.

And then you found out that he had MS?

Yes, and for a moment I thought

maybe there is a God; we could be together.

But then it hit me-- If you hadn't left him

when he was healthy, you'd never leave him now.

Not in your nature.

Why didn to the police

Why didn was being beaten?

I wouldn't let her.

He wasn't a bad man.

He loved me.

Well, you see?

That's what I couldn't stand:

The idea of this sweet, sweet woman tending that animal

for years and years and years.

So you killed the man I loved

and... and then what, hmm?

You and me, together, happy ever after?

You're just like him, pulling the strings,

trying to manipulate me.

No, I did it for you.

And the attack on my wife...

and on Havers,

that was you, too, wasn't it?

God in heaven, why?

To make it seem like there was some connection

between Finnegan's death and one of his past cases.

I never meant for your wife to lose the baby--

I'll regret that every day--

but not what I did to Finnegan.

Not what I did for you.

You... you wouldn't listen, Grace.

No,youwouldn't listen.

I loved him.

Not you, him.

If other people don't understand, too bad.

He was mine, for better and for worse.

No, you're wrong; he had changed, he had.

He was trying to make things right.

Hadn't laid a finger on me for months.

It was my marriage, Tessa, my life.

You stole my life.

(indistinct radio transmissions)

(talking in low voices)

Should help (talking iLizzie Shakespeare.

Sir?

Now that Finnegan's been exposed

as a wife-beater

his testimony will never stand up to a second appeal.

My bet is she'll be out by Christmas.

Good for her.

Tessa!

You had no right!

No!

Havers!

Barbara?

Barbara?

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org