All language subtitles for The.Long.Shadow.S01E02.720p.WEBRip.x264-GalaxyTV

- At 7:41 this morning,

the body of a 28-year-old woman,

Wilma McCann, was found in the
Prince Philip Playing Fields

behind Scott Hall Avenue in Chapeltown.

She were a mother of four kids.

Prostitute don't come into it.

- Got a place where we can go.

- Five pounds, Sydney,

for how long would it have been?

Five minutes?

- No.

No, you're my wife, mother of my children.

- And someone
has to provide for them.

- Well, I find if you don't solve a murder

in the first couple of days,

it's an uphill struggle
after that, isn't it?

- How many men do you
know don't own a hammer?

- Look, you'll catch him.

You always do.

- Here you go.

- I said I didn't want toast.

- Just eat it for me.

Dad.

Dad!

Dad!

- Better be bloody good.

- Police are downstairs.

Get up!

- Sydney Jackson, as in
husband to Emily Jackson?

- Aye.

- I'm afraid we
might have some very sad news.

- All we're after at this
stage is identification.

Just a quick look to confirm it's her.

- It's not her.

- Mr. Jackson.

- Well, she'd have stopped out.

I said that, didn't I?

She'd have stopped with her mate.

- Well, if that's what happened
and it's not your wife,

we still need that confirmation.

- Dad.

- I can't.

- But what if it's not her?

Me?

- Neil, is it?

Neil, you're only going to
see her face today, all right?

In you come, lad.

Neil?

Good lad.

Brave lad.

- Irene or Eileen?

- Irene.

I've been a nanny twice before now.

One family had four children,
so three is no bother.

- You can cook?
- Mm-hm.

- And clean?

- I've been a chambermaid in hotels.

When would you be
needing someone to start?

- Well, there's other lasses see

and I'll need to speak with my husband.

The whole thing could take weeks, love.

- Well, you want the very
best person for the job.

That's important.

- Yes.

- If you just take a seat

in there for me, please, Mr. Jackson.

- Aye.

- Got the Jacksons' neighbours saying

they lost a teenage son a few years back.

Family's not been the
same since, apparently.

All right, so what do you reckon?

- Well, Professor G reckons
that they're linked.

Same injuries, same type of weapon,

same clothing removed as McCann.

- Right.

Give us another one here
about the boot size.

- Right.

- We're roofers.

Me and Neil, we do it together.

- And Emily?

- She did books and driving.

- Driving?

- I don't drive, you
know, so she drove a van.

Picking up, dropping off.

- Bit like when your
mum takes you to school,

that kinda thing?

- She were hit in the head
with a hammer, Sydney.

That's what we think happened.

Then she were gone over
with some sort of implement,

screwdriver or chisel.

- Well, you being a roofer,

you'd have a tool bag yourself.

- Aye.

- Does it have a hammer?

Screwdriver?

Chisel?

- Look, what is this?

- What shoe size are you there, Sydney?

- Hey?

- Answer the question.

- But why?

What's it to do with?

- What's it to do with?

It's to do with the fact

that we found a footprint
on Emily's thigh.

Someone stood on her.

Stood is wrong.

Stamp'd be a better word.

And whoever did it was wearing
some sort of work boot,

so that's why he's asking.

- So what shoe size are you?

- Oh.

10.

- Let's have a look.

- Hey?

- Show us your foot.

- Where were you last night, Sydney?

- We went drinking, me and Emily.

- Where?

- The Gaiety, Chapeltown.

- You left her behind, went home?

She wanted to keep drinking.

So you had an argument, yes?

- No.

- No?

So you he just left Fanning
Car Park and went home?

How?

- Taxi.

- If you could have
waited until you got home

before you killed her,

you'd saved yourself the fare.

Water under the bridge now though, eh?

- How did you meet Wilma McCann?

- Who?

- Work, was it?

If open these books Emily keeps,

will they tell me all
about the roofing jobs

in Scott Hall Avenue?

- Where?

- Or were you a punter?

Is that why you drank in Chapeltown?

- Wilma McCann had four kids, Sydney.

One more than your Emily.

That's seven kids without a mum.

Did you want her all to yourself, Wilma?

That it?

Did you pick her up on October 29th

and kill her with tools
from the back of your van?

- I don't drive.

- So you keep saying, but
we don't know that, do we?

- It's a Wellington boot.

Dunlop Morrick. Size seven.

- And then they found
out about you and Wilma.

- I told you I don't-
- Cheers.

- Know who that is.

- Or did Emily go
off with another fella?

Is that it?

- Weren't like that.

- Right, well, what were it like?

- People weren't paying.

You know, we'd all these bills, you know?

We were going under.

It were her idea, you know, not mine.

- Her idea?

- To go with men.

She only done it a few times.

- And you with her?

Why?

- I ought to be nearby

so she knew I were in pub.

You know, in case.

- In case of what?

- In case something's happened.

- Another woman has been
brutally murdered in Chapeltown.

52 wounds in total, hammer to the head.

Same force, same ferocity,

followed by a sustained
assault to the neck, the body,

and the back with what the lab now thinks

is a crosshead screwdriver.

Whoever did this murdered Wilma McCann.

Of that we are now certain.

- He were also wearing a
size seven Wellington boot.

But at this stage,

we're keeping that detail to ourselves.

- Right, let's start on Spencer Place,

Leopold Street, and Gaiety.

The drinkers. See who saw what.

And I want us logging plates

of any car seen cruising those streets

over the next couple of weeks.

If we head over to the-
- So we had it right

the first time, sir?

- Go on.

- It's the whores he's after.

- Well, we don't know.

- But Wilma McCann was a prostitute.

Emily Jackson was a prostitute.

And I don't know about you, sir,

but I could see a pattern emerging.

- Well, if that's where
our evidence is leading us

then that must be the conclusion.

- Right, as I said,

we'll head to the Gaiety
first and we'll go from there.

Thank you.

- Back again?

- What's that?

- Well, I didn't recognise
you in your uniform.

- Very funny.

I want you reading this.

Or at least looking at the picture.

Don't tell me you don't know her!

- I can't believe they're out already.

- Not as many as normal

'cause we're here.

- We now believe that this
man is targeting prostitutes.

I'm sure this even stretches to women

who go in public houses,
women of rather loose morals.

- What's he on about?

- The victim was found

in an industrial area

just off the Roundhay Road,

an area prostitutes are
known to take their clients.

- Why is he saying that about my mum?

- She had severe head injuries.

There are other injuries

and I'm not prepared to
elaborate on those at this time.

- And you believe
this man will strike again?

- No, no. Go back upstairs.

- That's not something we can say.

But certainly while this man is at large,

no prostitute is safe.

- He's been through before, yeah?

- Just let me check.

- Right, this'll do.

No one's gonna see you here.

- Was she a friend of yours then?

- Not really.

I'd seen her a couple of times.

She were old enough to be my mum,

but I were the one who looked out for her

'cause she was the one that were new.

Do you know what I mean?

Last thing I remember is
she getting into a car.

- What kinda car?

- No, I let her have it 'cause
I never liked the fella.

Not at all.

- What kinda car?

- It's a Land Rover, green.

- No, we've got him.

He's not the man we're looking for.

- Is it true he never
even had sex with her?

Just wanted her dead?

- Where'd you hear that?

- Take that as a yes then.

- Listen, Nicola, we
need you to think now.

Think about who you've gone with,

who you might have seen.

We're after a bloke you find frightening.

Maybe not first,

but when you're alone with
him in his car or wherever,

you start to realise this is a bloke

who might lose it and get violent.

A bloke who puts the fear of God into you

because he's got it in him
to hurt you at any time.

- You know a punter like that?

- We all do.

It's all of 'em, isn't it?

It's every bloke, every time,

every night of the fucking week.

- Oi, Ste!
- All right?

- Mr. Jackson.
- Mr. Jackson.

- Did you know what she was up to?

- Are you a suspect in your wife's murder?

- Mr. Jackson!
- Did you not know

she run game?

Not many women of that sort-
- Look up here.

- Live around here.
- Does that mean you've

been cleared?
- So how'd she end up

on the game?
Does that mean

you've been cleared, Mr. Jackson?

- Eh?
- Have you been officially

ruled out?

- This is a respectable
neighbourhood, Mr. Jackson.

Were you her pimp?
- Mr. Jackson!

- We can
pay money, Mr. Jackson.

Just let me know when you wanna talk.

- Who knows what the
average man gets up to

left to his own devices.

And any fellow who uses a prostitute

don't go around bragging about it,

don't go home to the wife saying,

"Guess where I've just been."

- When was this, sir?

- Don't tell his workmates.

Don't tell his friends.

- Oh, mate.

Workmates not real mates anymore, Dennis.

- Tells nobody is the point.

The prostitutes won't talk to us

'cause they worry we'll nick them.

And even if they did, be no use anyway,

'cause the only way they know
this bastard is this bastard

is when they're on their own way.

- Aye, by which point it's too late.

- Aye.

- Coroner's opening the inquest
into both murders Monday.

It's been four months.

People are going to
want an update, Dennis.

- I'm aware of that.

So what do we got?

Wellington boot, size seven.

Not many men take a seven.

- Thousands do.

- Yes, but tens of thousands don't

and we can rule them out.

- Not necessarily.

Dunlop were saying the
rubber they use is flexible.

He might be a seven, but
he could be an eight.

And if he wears thick socks,
then he could be a six.

- If he's a six, why does he take a seven?

- Because a lot of these boots
belong to the workplaces,

not the workers themselves.

So farms, factories.

You use whatever pair is available.

- So what have we got.

Jim.

Start an inquest Monday

for both murders, for Wilma and for Emily.

Albert wanted to know where we're up to.

Hard to ask.

- Well, that's all right, isn't it?

- Oh, aye.

- You've done plenty of them.

- Aye, plenty.

And I want to know if we're
any closer to catching him.

That'll be that.

- And?

- And I'll just have to
say no, we are no closer.

I keep having this terrible thought, Bet.

I shut it out.

Keeps coming back

when I'm in the car

or all during the day.

If I'm going to catch that
man, I need more clues.

And the only way to get more clues is

for the bastard to do it again.

- Police, what's your emergency?

- Yeah, this one.

- Emergency, how can I help?

- Just slow down for me, love.

Slow down.

Talk a bit slower, then I can...

Okay, I'm gonna need an
address to know where you are.

Okay, you're at the park?

As in Roundhay Park?

Okay, and what side of the park?

Chapeltown side.

Yeah, I'm still here.

Phone box, white pointy tower.

Yeah. Chapeltown corner.

Okay.

Yeah, and what's your name?

He's hit you on the head?

He's hit you on the head with a hammer?

It feels like water on your head.

Okay, and is it bleeding now, Marcella?

Yeah?

Okay, we're gonna get an
ambulance and police officers

to you now, okay?

Shouldn't be more than
a couple of minutes.

No, no, no.

Stay sitting for me,
darling. Stay sitting.

And keep your knickers on the blood.

Scrunch 'em up and hold him on the bit

where it's bleeding, okay?

Was it somebody you know or?

No? A stranger?

No, no, no, no, no.

He's not coming back.

No, if he's left you alone,
he won't be coming back.

Marcella?

Marcella, can you hear me?

Yeah, nice clear words for me.

Yeah, that's it.

That's it.

He is coming back?

He's driving back towards the phone box?

Same white car?

And is he seeing you?

Okay, I need you to stay down.

I need you to stay sitting for me.

No, stay sitting.

Stay, stay.

I'm right here.

I'm here.

He's gone?

He's gone past.

He's driving past.

You can see him in the
distance. That's good.

That's good.

Oh, no.

No, nobody's gonna mind that
you've got blood on the phone.

That's not your fault.

That's not your fault.

You can see the blue lights?

Yep. You can see them.

Good. Yep.

They know where you are

and they know that you're poorly, okay?

You just keep holding your head.

Yeah, I can hear them.

Yep, that's them.

I'm gonna hand over, okay?

There's no need.

Very welcome, Marcella, love.

- Paula?
- Police emergency,

how can I help?

- Police emergency, how can I help?

- Can you describe
him for us, love?

- Smart.

Smart clothes, dark hair.

Crinkly hair.

- A Black man?

- No.

- A white man?

A white man with dark crinkly hair?

- A white man in a white car.

He stop.

He took my hand.

He drove me to the park.

- To Roundhay Park where
you were attacked, yes?

- And you made the call after that.

Where'd he pick you up from?

- Chapeltown.

- At 5:00 in the morning.

Well, you must have been drinking.

- So he gives you a five-pound note,

then he gives you a whack
on the back of the head.

And then, what?

Does he try to have sex with you or?

Go on. Just finish your story.

- He stood there.

- Stood there how?

- He stood over me and
he played with himself.

- How long have you been
on the game, Marcella?

- That's not what I do.

- No. Just every now and again?

- I wanted a lift.

I needed a lift home.

That's all it was, darling.

- Right, just,

why did he give you that fiver?

All right. All right.

I'll tell you what,

I'll send someone down, a WPC,

and a sketch artist to get
a description of this man.

And then if anything comes
up, we'll be in touch.

All right?

All right.

- Listen, love, it were
late, you'd been drinking,

you'd been clobbered on the head.

The mind can play tricks on you.

You sure it weren't a Black fella?

- No Black man would've done this to me.

- Alright, as long as you're sure.

All right, love?

- I'm so sorry, darling.

I just heard about the baby.

Is there anything you need?

- What happen now?

- We need to find you
an appointment, love,

to see the doctor.

We need to take it out.

- Detective Chief
Superintendent Dennis Hoban.

You are the detective tasked

with finding the individual responsible

for these attacks, yes?

- That is correct.

- And there is

a dual murder investigation ongoing.

- That's right.

- As is clear from the postmortem reports,

both Emily Jackson and Wilhelmina McCann

were the subjects of willful murder.

Therefore, unless you need me not to do so

for investigative purposes,

I hereby give permission for
both bodies to be buried.

- Thank you.

- How's that going, by the way?

- Sir?

- The investigation.

- A case of this magnitude

requires considerable
work to be undertaken

and we're in the midst of that work.

- Very good.

- Sir?

- Dennis, you don't mind me stopping by?

- Not at all.

- Sorry I missed it.

If you've got a moment,

there's something I've been
wanting to show you back at HQ.

- So what do you reckon?

- Oh, she tells us
she's after a lift home,

but she brings him here.

Workers bring their
punters here all the time.

Now, I know this because people

in those big houses over
there are always complaining.

- So she were definitely hustling?

- Oh, aye.

- Like Emily and Wilma were hustling?

- Yeah, but that's where
the similarities end.

- Oh, aye.

- No, if this were our
man, he'd have stood here.

And it'd have been pitch black, remember?

And he'd had done what
forensics have been telling us.

He'd had gone at her with that knife

or that screwdriver of his.

- Aye.

So who attacked her?

- Pimp or a punter.

Maybe she's taken a punter's fiver,

she's run off with it.

Hide in the shadows.

- Right.

And then he's, well, he's caught her.

- He's caught her.

And he's taught her a lesson.

He's realised that he's gone
too far and he's scarpered.

- Right.

Well, you're getting no prints from this.

It's like concrete.

- Right.

No need to type it up.

I'll tell Dennis when I next see him.

- I don't think you'll
be seeing much of Hoban.

Not if you believe the rumours, Jim.

I shouldn't have said it out.

Look, just ask the girls
back at the office.

- Terrific windows in
a building like this.

I always think daylight's such an asset.

For example...

- Very good.

- Thought you'd like it.

DACC Dennis.

Deputy Assistant Chief Constable.

- We're in the middle of a
double murder investigation.

- The role spans the
whole of West Yorkshire,

the combined force.

- This man needs finding.

- And he will be.

- With respect, sir,

you've never caught a
man like this before.

- With respect, Dennis, you
haven't caught him either.

- I don't want this.

- Oh, I believe you want it.

Those murders are still
West Yorkshire, Dennis.

Still within your purview.

You just won't be in
day-to-day charge is all.

- And who will?

Don't say Hobson.

I respect Jim, but you need
someone experienced on this one.

Unless it's done.

You've already decided.

- Dennis, this is a promotion.

- It's unbelievable.

- Ah, there it is.

Pam said he'll need
somewhere to hang his hat so.

- So what does that mean now?

- It means this is only
going to get bigger.

More police, better resourced.

I'll still have an eye on things.

And then you've got Detective
Chief Superintendent Hobson

in active command.

- And like, he's good, is he?

You know, like you rate him?

- He's a very experienced detective.

I need you to know, Sydney,

we never thought it were you.

Since we spoke that morning,

I never...

We never thought that.

All right?

- Who were it?

- Well, that's what we're
going to work out, isn't it?

For Emily and Wilma and all the kids.

- Shut up!

- Morning.
- Morning.

- Quiet?

- Sunday.

- After he made a big
point about getting us in

to discuss these budgets.

- Mr. Gregory rang to
stay he's on his way.

Just needed to speak to Mr. Hobson first.

- Hobson?

- I thought you knew.

They found another body.

- Straight over there!

- David?

What are we looking at?

- Early 20s. Dark hair.

He's dragged her in
full view of the houses,

placed her face down in a specific little,

what do you call it?

Arrangement.

- And it's linked, yes?

- We don't know that yet.

- No, but it's the same
style as McCann and-

- Dennis, I'm sorry, would
you just give me a moment?

- Linked?

- Dennis.

- Not treading on any toes, Jim.

- You can't turn up like this.

It's not your case anymore.

- Well, think of me as
a fresh pair of eyes.

- Dennis.

Everyone's wondering
what you're doing here.

- Boss!

- What's that there?

Inspector!

Keep coming!

It's embarrassing.

- Good morning. I'm Detective
Inspector Les Hanley.

- Victim's name is Irene Richardson

of Calper Street, Chapeltown.

After months of failing to find work,

she fell into selling herself for money.

Irene is now the third
victim of this killer.

A man intent on slaying prostitutes.

A man who has just made a
very significant mistake.

He left tyre tracks at the scene.

Now, details of those
impressions are gonna be

with each of you very soon,

but I need a big effort from you now.

I need you to help me
identify that vehicle.

We find that car, we find the killer.

Yes?

Yes?

- Yes, sir.
- Yes.

- Good. Right.

Thank you.

- Right, I want a
presence at Roundhay Park.

Question everyone.

Right. Let's get on with it.
- Okay.

- Work his way up Chapeltown.

- Jenny, do you remember Claxton,

the Black lass attacked in Roundhay?

- That wasn't linked?

- Oh, do we have the file?

- I could try and find it, I suppose.

- Yeah, yeah, please.

- January, we saw a slight
increase in the crime overall.

Crime in our police area is going down,

so maybe start with that.

And talking about arson.

Always increases in February...

- She's gone.

Afraid.

Because you people not believe her.

- You got an address?

Oi!

- John, got that file for you.

- All right, yeah.

Cheers.
- That's all right.

- Because I think he probably would,

especially if he's mad at her,

Stop his wife from asking questions.

Who did this?

- Claxton, the Black lass
we saw in the summer.

You remember?

- Who's this?

- What do you want me to do with this?

- Well, there can't be too many
fellas look like that, Jim.

- Crimes aren't connected.

- Well, why don't you
tell us what's going on?

- There were a prostitute attacked

in the park last year in summer.

- And we ruled it out.

- And now Richardson's been killed.

- Right.

- In exactly the same spot.

- In exactly the same spot

that prostitutes take
their punters all the time.

I told you this, John, at the time.

You remember people in
those big posh houses

always complaining?

I told you.

- You don't think it's a coincidence, Jim?

- I do. I do think it's a coincidence.

We ruled it out then for the same reason

that I'm keeping it ruled out now.

She were attacked, hit on back of head.

That is it. That is the only connection.

Not like these others.

And she were lying.

She were lying and she were pissed.

- At that point-
- No, no,

just think what would
happen on a case like this.

Someone puts out an appeal on a man

who has absolutely nothing to
do with any of these crimes.

We'd send everybody
off down the wrong road

to create space for that
bastard to kill again.

And we'd kill our careers in all.

Look, we have to work with the facts.

The fact that he's a seven, the
fact that he drives the car,

the fact that it is left
distinctive tyre marks in the mud.

All right?

- Yeah, yeah, you're right, Jim.

- Go on, John.

- Cheers, Les.

- Yep?

Right. Put him on.

Hello, Mike.

- Hi, Jim. We're doing
the layout right now,

so I just wanted to check
if you had anything to add.

- No, I don't think so.

No.

- Okay. Understood.