Original subtitles

Don't you worry.

Got some plasters in the car.

Hey, hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Have a drink of water.

A doctor!

-You're fine. -Doctor!

Sir.

I'm sure he's faking it.

Doctor!

A doctor.

Oh, sweet, picking something out for your niece, are you?

Please, Office Kessler.

Please!

Open the cell door and call Dr. Ross.

This is Gordon Cairns at Redhill.

I'm afraid I've got some bad news about your brother.

He died in his cell earlier today.

The prison doctor thinks it was a heart attack

unrelated to his cancer.

Well, at least it was quick.

Ms. Wade?

Yes, I'm still here.

Look, I need to go now.

You have my condolences.

Thank you.

What's the occasion?

Do we need an occasion?

It's a bit damp.

Oh, it'll clear up, where's your sense of adventure?

Will it keep?

I've got to nip into work for an hour, maybe longer.

Sure, it'll keep.

Hello?

My daughter.

I was on the phone to my daughter, need to call her back.

What's your name?

Rachel.

OK, Rachel...

Right Stay, wait, no, no.

Stay with me, Ra, stay with me, stay!

Come on, Rachel!

Come on!

She died in my arms, she died right...

I saw her eyes just...

There's what looks like a a healed bullet wound in the back,

and this bruising, extensive bruising,

but there's nothing that explains all this blood.

Have you been drinking?

What of it, I've had a couple, yeah, come on!

For Christ's sake,

she's not carrying any ID or wallet, yeah?

She's got no shoes on.

She's got no seat belt mark across her chest.

Wherever she was coming from, she was in a screaming hurry

and she's covered in blood that is still wet

and that isn't hers.

There is another victim out there somewhere!

Make sure you get that written up when

you get back to the station.

Yeah, OK, right.

Have you had any luck IDing her from the car?

Lease car, isn't it?

Gave them a call, went straight through to voice mail.

Leo?

Looks like she reversed hard into a white post.

Don't suppose you know which direction she was driving in?

Stop!

Leo,

maybe we should wait for the police.

Fine, I'm going in.

That woman had a healed bullet wound in her back,

we've no idea what she was mixed up in.

The person who lost all that blood might still be alive.

Hello?

Hello?

Oh, Christ.

Leo!

Looks like he was bludgeoned with something.

Well, it wasn't for money.

Nick Owen, 28.

I'll make some calls.

I was on the phone to my daughter.

I need to call her back.

Laptop charger's still warm, but no laptop.

Ow!

Nikki, Nikki!

You OK, what happened?

I'm fine, go, see if you can get a look at him.

You OK?

I'll survive.

Sure?

Shit, shit, shit!

Leo, we--

She worked for the Prison Review Agency, the victim.

Leo, what--

Maybe she was killed because of her work.

We need fresh eyes on this.

Get yourself checked out, won't you?

And I'll be fine are famous last words

as far as head injuries are concerned.

All right, I will.

Nikki, why did you go into the house?

Why didn't you wait until help arrived?

We were worried in case someone was hurt.

You mean you were worried and Leo

couldn't reason with you.

Actually, it was the other way around.

So, where were you heading when you found her?

I was on my way home.

From?

Highgate.

Sorry.

Home?

Yes.

Tell me about it.

I'm supposed to be at my son's school concert.

So, what were you doing in Highgate, seeing friends?

No, no, just um,

spending some time there.

Fair enough.

Don't go anywhere.

Killer knocks on the front doors,

Rachel's on the phone in the kitchen,

so Nick says he'll get it.

Rising spatter along the walls suggests he was retreating

as he was beaten with some heavy,

and as yet unidentified, object.

Smashed watch, he tried to protect his face

as he backed away.

Boot treads should give us a make.

And the blood gives us chronology.

I think she slipped and fell on her way out.

That explains the blood on her legs.

I think you're right.

And even with a massive skull fracture,

it would've taken some time for the blood to pool like that.

So she was hiding trying to find her car keys?

How terrified must she have been?

Shall we?

Professor Dalton.

Nail on the right ring finger is chipped.

Might be a defensive injury.

Murderer's left something behind.

I want to swab his eyes too.

Skull fracture could explain the redness, it could be a--

Subconjunctival haemorrhage?

Mm.

Yes, but that doesn't explain the puffiness.

Give you that.

See, faculties undimmed.

Still going to see Matron, though.

You're sure he went in that direction?

What with being punched in the face and everything?

A hundred percent!

OK, we'll check CCTV, might get lucky.

Picked up her husband, guv.

Peter Kruger, coming in for questioning.

Great.

Well, if he's a suspect, you should ask my colleague

Dr. Cunningham to examine him, tonight!

When I grabbed his legs, he must have fallen

hard on that drain.

So he might have some abrasions?

Yeah, and it'll fade.

I'm gonna need you to take

your shirt off, Mr. Kruger.

What do you think?

I don't know, maybe.

I think he would've had some bruising

from the drain cover.

Why don't you hang around for a bit,

see if anything comes back?

So, you and your daughter, Liesel,

were staying with Rachel's mother less than an hour away?

Yes.

Why go through the hassle of staying the night?

My wife was very busy with work.

She was a director of the Prison Review Agency.

She was finalizing a report.

Which is why Nick Owen was at your house?

Yes, he's her assistant.

Hmm.

And you had no problem with a young, handsome guy like that

spending time with your wife, in your house,

while you were baby-sitting down the road?

No.

What was wrong with the office?

Rachel,

Rachel liked to drink in the evening.

Fair enough.

And I take it your mother-in-law can provide you

with an alibi.

I popped out to the pub for an hour, on my own.

Talk to anyone?

No.

And afterwards, I,

I didn't go straight home.

No?

No, I,

I walked around the village for a bit.

Half an hour or so.

You walked around the village?

I needed some headspace.

OK.

What was on your mind?

I was formulating a proposition.

An ultimatum.

I was gonna tell Rachel she had to choose between

her work or her family.

Why?

Because her work was putting us in danger.

Are you suggesting your wife's murder is related

to her work at the Prison Review Agency?

Yes.

Specifically her review of Redhill Prison.

She's got her man.

They're just waiting on the DNA.

The jealous husband motive doesn't add up.

I don't know, Nick Owen was tall

and handsome, fine physique.

Right, so Kruger kills him in a jealous rage,

chases his wife to her death, then goes back to the scene

of the crime and steals the laptop!

OK.

Sorry.

Sorry for everything.

You've had quite a night, I think you should go home.

Goodnight

-Goodnight. -Goodnight.

Do you think he's OK?

Yeah, had a shock, that's all.

He's used to the dead, not the dying.

No, I mean generally.

Have you noticed he never talks about her any more?

Who?

Janet?

Oh, can't say I noticed.

Course you hadn't.

What's that supposed to mean?

I'm sensitive!

I intuit.

All right, that's it.

Peter.

My name is Leo Dalton.

I'm the man who tried to help your wife.

I'm so sorry.

Did she,

did she say anything?

She was severely concussed.

She did say something about, being on the phone

to her daughter and that she'd have to get back to her.

Was that it?

Nothing else.

Do you really think that her work got her killed?

Why do you care?

Because, from what I've seen, the police are very keen

to wrap this up quick.

I'm a pathologist, and my colleagues

are working on the case.

I can't prove anything.

Well, do you know anyone who can?

Someone from the Prison Review Agency?

Phoebe.

Phoebe Harron, Rachel's co-director.

She might know something.

Can you give me her number?

You give me your number and if she wants

to contact you, she can.

Rachel had what looked like a healed bullet wound

in her back.

She was shot in Basra in 2003.

Royal Military Police.

Bullet lodged in her spine and it stayed there.

But it was migrating.

One day, it was gonna kill her.

Made life pretty hard for all of us, you know.

Especially for her, I need to...

Cheer up, Ellis.

Want some wings, we have too much.

No, I'm all right.

Go on.

I don't like waste.

Not built for this, are you, Roberts?

Hello?

This is Phoebe Harron, I can meet you tonight.

We worked at Her Majesty's Inspectorate of Prisons

before we started the agency and...

Rachel.

Rachel was the shining star of the Inspectorate,

so we instantly got more work than we could handle.

Who commissioned the review into Redhill?

Home Office.

There were five drug-related fatalities in as many months

and then, the suspicious death of James Wade.

Didn't Wade have cancer?

Yeah.

But he was in remission, and the rumors that it was a hit

wouldn't go away.

Rumors supported by the postmortem findings?

What do you know about fentanyl?

Um, it's approximately 80 times more potent than morphine,

mainly used in the pain management of cancer patients.

Mm, but it can kill you if you're opiate-intolerant,

like James Wade.

What, they found,

they found fentanyl in Wade's bloodstream?

A journalist made a link to the alleged bounty

on Wade's head and suggested he'd been killed by someone

with knowledge of his opiate intolerance.

A member of the prison service?

Not a crazy conclusion.

No, and it made the independent inquiry inevitable.

Was Rachel close to proving that Wade was murdered?

She kept her cards close to her chest during a review.

But I'll speak to our IT firm, see if I can access

her files and e-mails.

Yeah, come on.

You were her colleague.

You must have an inkling of her progress.

She hinted at endemic drug dealing

amongst the officers at Redhill.

Any names?

No.

Anyone I could talk to?

You know, Rachel always said,

every investigation needs a white knight,

an insider with a conscience.

The prison doctor.

Don't tell me, you thought he was faking it?

James Wade raped and murdered nine little girls.

Aren't you glad he's dead?

That's not the bloody point, is it?

Imagine if he'd come after your daughter,

if he'd come after your Julie.

Couldn't even have run away, could she?

Get out of my sight, Kessler!

Janet!

In an updated version of my book, Child Catcher,

I make the case that James Wade was poisoned

by someone who knew of his rare opiate intolerance,

someone who went on to collect a substantial bounty.

Now, I wasn't alone in that suspicion.

Rachel Kruger began an investigation

for the Prison Review Agency and now she too

has been murdered, along with her colleague Nick Owen.

There's something rotten at the heart of Redhill Prison

and I think Rachel Kruger found it and has paid

the highest price.

Yeah?

There's a Miriam Wade

to see you, Dr. Cunningham.

Don't know her, what does she...

Wade?

I've got exactly five minutes, take a seat.

Thank you, I'll stand.

I'm here to give fair warning.

I know that police are already pursuing

a domestic motive for Rachel Kruger's murder,

when it's blindingly obvious that her death relates

to her review of Redhill Prison,

and the death of my brother in particular.

OK, got all that except for the warning part.

Well, no doubt you'll be pressured by police

to toe the official line i.e,

that Peter Kruger killed his wife.

Toe the official line?

But I intend to secure a second PM

so there'll be nowhere to hide.

We don't get pressurized by the police.

Who do you think you're talking to?

And on the rare occasions that we do,

we are very adept at dealing with it.

Fair warning.

OK, all right.

Why do you think the police investigation will be

less than rigorous?

My law firm has a great team of PIs.

Ex-CID and Fraud Office to a man.

On twice the salary, no doubt.

A little bit more than that, actually.

Anyway...

Anyway, last night they made a startling discovery.

Detective Inspector Andrea Bridges, the lead investigator,

and Redhill's senior guard, Daniel Kessler,

used to work together back when he was a copper in Vice.

I think my five minutes are up, thank you, Dr. Cunningham.

Why do you care who killed Rachel Kruger?

My brother was an evil man.

I feel guilty about what he did.

I feel guilty about grieving for him.

I even feel guilty about having the same name as him.

I'm getting married in a month and,

thank God I won't be a Wade any more.

Passport, driving license, credit cards, can't wait.

But Rachel Kruger didn't think like that.

To her, a life was a life and if your brother

had been murdered, then that was a crime

that should be punished.

I want to honor that.

There are ante-mortem abrasions

on both left and right knees.

Embedded in the abrasions are fibers

consistent with a carpet seen in the reception room

of the Kruger house.

There are light marks on the back

that resemble fingernail scratches.

Scabbing on these is quite advanced,

suggesting they were sustained some days before death.

There is also scarring on the back,

consistent with a ballistic injury that the deceased

sustained in 2003 when she was serving in Iraq.

Corroded fragment of metal,

presumably from the aforementioned bullet wound of 2003.

An accumulation of fat inside the liver,

and the liver was, what was it, Colin?

1900.

Over 1900 grams is considerably enlarged.

Possible sign of alcoholism.

That's not a complete surprise.

She had a conviction for drink driving.

One more strike and she would've faced a custodial sentence.

Making her position as

a prison inspector untenable?

Indeed.

Evidence of coup and contrecoup injury

suggests the victim's head struck the steering wheel

and, or dashboard with sufficient force

to cause traumatic brain injury, and then pressure

from extradural hemorrhage following this

was the eventual cause of death.

There's inflammation and puffiness around his eyes.

Swabs taken should tell us if the killer used pepper spray.

That's odd.

A white button down the back of his throat.

Check if it belongs to the victim's shirt, will you?

Yeah.

In addition to a dozen roughly

four-centimeter-thick bruises,

there are three sets of parallel bruises.

Two different marks, two different weapons?

No, the bruises are overlapping.

They come from a cylinder of some sort.

When a smooth, cylindrical, hard object

-Hello? -Strikes the fleshier parts

of the body, the central part compresses,

but shearing forces laterally leave two parallel bruises.

One weapon, multiple hits.

Probably.

You're sure?

OK.

Nikki, no buttons are missing.

Results have just come in on the deposits

under his fingernails.

It's dead skin.

DNA says it belongs to Rachel Kruger.

I need copies of the postmortem photos.

His brief's 10 grand an hour,

and guess who's footing the bill.

Miriam Wade, sister of James.

Photographs.

Professor Dalton?

Oh, you made it sound urgent.

I get that work required Rachel and Nick

to spend a lot of time together, I do.

But it doesn't quite explain the deposits

of your wife's skin under Nick's fingernails,

or the corresponding scratches on her back.

Here's what I think, you confronted Rachel about the affair.

It turned physical and she banished you for a few days.

I made those scratches.

We made love on Monday night.

Charity shag, she felt guilty.

You wanna see the scratches on my back?

Peter.

No, bottom line, her skin was under Nick's fingernails.

In the crash, did my wife sustain an injury,

or any bruising on her right forearm?

Why?

You may have missed it.

Nail marks that Nick made on her arm.

No nail marks.

He was right about the bruise on the arm, though,

wasn't he, just hang on a sec.

Can you e-mail me over the scene-of-the-crime

photographs for Rachel Kruger, immediately?

We've got the PM pictures, what's the difference?

12 hours.

By this morning, lividity had obscured the nail marks.

Hello, Leo.

It's not Nick's fault.

If he hadn't have done it, I would.

Perhaps we need to take a break, Peter.

No, I am going to confront him now!

Wait until tomorrow.

You are not gonna stop me.

Rachel, come on, wait a minute.

He lied to us.

Peter, Peter!

Rachel, Rachel, stop the car!

Nick, Nick, just get off, get off the car!

Stop the car, stop it now!

Just get off!

My wife lived with an extremely painful,

life-threatening injury and she self-medicated

with Pinot Noir, a lot of it.

Get her out, Rachel, please.

All right, all right, all right, just--

You can't just drive off, what are you doing?

Just leave me be.

Mummy!

Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Take Liesel to my mother's for a few days.

No, no, no, why, why?

Just to be on the safe side.

Rachel, no!

So where was she going?

Who did Rachel feel compelled to confront at 10:00 at night?

We never discussed her investigation

until she'd finished her report.

My sense was that she'd made some kind of breakthrough.

Guv?

He's on the CCTV of a picture-framers

down the road from the pub, time fits and everything.

Sorry, guv.

Definite match, and who uses these batons

except for police officers and security guards?

My turn, what do you get when you add pelargonic acid

and synthetic capsaicinoid to an aqueous ethanol solvent?

Pot Noodle?

Pepper spray.

A bespoke nitrogen-propelled mix manufactured

for Her Majesty's Prison Service.

So, we're gonna spin his cell at five.

If he gives you any more grief, just send him

down the box, yeah?

OK, no worries.

Andrea.

This is a surprise.

Hello, sir.

Daniel.

Sir is good, sir works.

Quite a party you've got here, you got an invitation?

Blimey.

You care to elaborate?

I have to sell this to my staff.

It's a warrant, you don't have to sell it to anybody.

There's compelling physical evidence linking the murders

of Rachel Kruger and Nick Owen

to one or more prison officers.

What is this compelling evidence?

Nick Owen was beaten to death with a cylindrical object

that exactly matches the dimensions of the batons

carried by your officers.

We also matched these treads to tac boots,

which are bought in bulk by HMPS.

That it, that all you got?

No, it's not, we found a mix of PAVA spray in Owen's eyes,

which in the UK, is almost exclusively

produced for the prison service.

Oh, come on, you can drive a horse and cart

through almost exclusively.

Not when you consider that Kruger and Owen

were carrying out a review of this prison.

I got budget cuts, staff cuts.

I got chronic overcrowding, I got A and D Blocks

demanding sharia law, and you waste my time with this shite.

Shame on you.

Daniel, see that our visitors are accommodated

within the terms of their warrant,

and not a comma more.

Thank you.

Sorry about the old man.

Bit of a throwback?

Oh, he is that.

Personally, I'd be up for a bit of sharia law myself,

sorts out the junkies.

So, what are you after?

DNA samples from all your staff,

plus we need to borrow their boots.

Why?

To test the soles for blood.

Where's your mate got to?

I have it on good authority that you were

Rachel Kruger's white knight.

The only one brave enough to speak to her.

Hang on, good authority from whom?

Do you think that the information that you gave her

could've led to her murder?

That sounds like a question the police should be asking.

As I'm sure you know, the police and the prison service

enjoy a close kinship.

I'm sorry, I can't help you.

I know, I know that Rachel made a significant breakthrough

two nights before she was killed.

Did that break in that inquiry come from you?

I can't help you.

She was looking into the case of James Wade.

Do you think that he was poisoned?

It's possible.

It's equally possible he obtained the fentanyl himself.

What about his opiate allergy?

He was in denial about it.

Always asking if I could dilute the fentanyl.

Didn't like the idea the only drugs that could help him

were off limits?

Rumor had it, his sister kept him in funds

and for a price, well--

Any and every drug is available in here.

Much to my personal and professional chagrin.

Available from who?

All the physical signs suggest that Kruger and Owen

were killed by a prison officer.

Who would Wade have gone to to have got fentanyl?

Daniel Kessler?

My daughter has spina bifida.

She's housebound, and her carer leaves two hours

before I get home.

Are you personally gonna guarantee her safety?

Because if not,

you have no business trying to bully me.

What time did you come on shift?

10:00

10PM?

Yeah, 10PM.

So, where were you before that?

At home.

With my wife.

Can I have a word, Detective Inspector?

We're in the middle of an interview here!

Call Fatso off, please.

I can't.

You're his DI, of course you can.

I'm gonna go now.

Funny.

I was thinking the other night,

about that little mole right between your breasts.

You know, where the sweat gathers?

What would Alex want you to do, I wonder?

Help out his old dad or shun him like a leper?

You're not his dad.

Not not in any way that means anything.

Really?

Put that to the test, shall we?

Give good old Nige a call, see if he agrees.

Fret not.

I was working when Kruger and Pretty Boy were killed.

Approximately 137 cameras will bear that out.

Got everything you need?

We'll test the boots for blood,

see if we can do up our stray button.

What are you matching the DNA to?

19 unknown profiles were found at the Kruger house,

so we'll start there.

Is it just me or is the idea of a prison guard

being dumb enough to beat someone to death

with his own baton in his own uniform?

It is just you.

OK, let's go.

They've asked for an alibi for the murders.

I lied.

I had to, I said I was at home.

I was collecting the gear!

We'll do this later, OK?

No, it's not OK.

They want me to give a signed statement.

Stick to your story, keep your head--

Listen, sorry and everything, but if it comes to it,

I'd rather go down for a bit of dealing than double murder.

OK.

Sorry, Daniel.

Yeah.

Yeah.

It's been a long day.

Hey.

Sorry I'm later than I said.

Are you, I didn't notice.

What time did Alex leave?

Dad, I'm fine in the house for a few hours.

I know.

How do you think I'm gonna cope at college, hm?

We found out more, a lot more,

about Daniel Kessler and DI Bridges.

None of it fit for the telephone.

Hello, Miriam.

This is Alan.

Harry.

-Hi. -Hi.

Wedding bells?

Oh, don't, two weeks to go and the bloody caterer's

just pulled out.

No, you won't find any pictures of James.

Sorry.

Not even as a child.

Mind you...

Nevermind.

Having said that, it doesn't mean you don't have

mixed feelings about his death.

Especially if he was murdered.

You're very perceptive.

He was your brother.

Even with the cancer, he was strong as an ox.

Could've lived another 20 years.

So, my chaps spent the day digging into Daniel Kessler.

Bit of a ladies' man, our Daniel.

Intimate with rafts of female police officers,

but we'll get to that later.

My chaps would kill me if they knew you'd seen this,

it was obtained somewhat illegally.

Oh, really, can something

be somewhat illegal?

I'd live in a much smaller house if it couldn't.

What is this?

Sodomized corpse of Craig Potter, drug dealer and pimp.

First officers on the scene were Detective Inspector

Daniel Kessler and Detective Sergeant Andrea Bridges.

Fret not.

I was working when Kruger and Pretty Boy were killed.

Approximately 137 cameras will bear that out.

Hey, look who's here!

Mum, where have you been?

You're late.

Looks like one of Craig's rivals worked him over.

What about the blood?

Slipped in it, didn't I?

You'd better not have AIDS, you dirty!

Nah, no reception.

Call from the street.

Help.

Please.

Andrea,

found him like this, didn't we?

Help me.

Together.

Things have changed, Daniel.

A blind man can see that.

Please don't make me have to call security.

He's not himself.

Come on, she doesn't believe that.

He's holding the baby over her, it's bloody obvious!

He's angry about something.

And it's not about Rachel Kruger or this case.

He just thinks it is.

What is it with you and the ladies, eh?

Just doesn't quite pan out, does it, Leo?

Gotcha!