All language subtitles for New.Tricks.S05E05.Couldnt.Organise.One.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor_Track03

After hearing the guilty verdict, deputy
assistant commissioner Robert strickland said:

It is hard to comprehend how
a detective of mcadam's rank

and experience could have
deceived his fellow officers for so long.

Cos you were in charge
of him, you pillock!

As a result of today's verdicts
we will now undertake a full review

of all the major investigations led by dci
mcadam during the last 15 years. Ouch!

15 years.

Pity the poor bastards who
have got to sort that lot out.

Yes... pity.

But it's nothing to do with us! Those
are all closed cases. All except this one.

No way. You don't
want to do it? No.

1998, a 26-year-old named Graham
Thompson drowned in a vat of beer.

Felspar's brewery, hoxton.

As in the still functioning,
still making beer, felspar's.

Ok. Fair enough.

Felspar's.

I must have drunk
gallons of the stuff.

We could have a little look.

Wouldn't hurt.

Graham Thompson,
assistant brewer at felspar's.

Last seen by his girlfriend, Anna
hodgkiss, on the 27th of November 1998.

Ten days later, he was found by chief brewer Malcolm
hagley at the bottom of this fermentation tank.

What beer was it? Pardon?
What sort of beer? In the tank?

I don't know. Felspar's
far-reaching bitter.

There was no sign of foul play, but
his body had deteriorated so badly it

could only be identified from dental
records. They don't make it any more.

What? Far-reaching bitter.
Shame. Wonderful beer!

Felspar's fighting bitter,
they used to call it. Did they?

Owd winkle. That was my tipple.

It was some brew, that.

The only thing that remained intact were his work
clothes and some malted barley found in the pockets.

They're being sent over later.
Specific gravity 1,062 degrees.

6% alcohol! Four
pints of that and...

You get an "owd winkle".

Thompson, a glaswegian,
had no living relatives.

He was very well-liked so his death
may well have been an accident,

but it was unusual and
therefore suspicious.

More to the point, it was left
unsolved by a bent copper.

Any thoughts?

What a fabulous way to go.

Malcolm hagley created
far-reaching bitter.

South of england best bitter five
years in a row. Five times on the trot!

I mean, if there was a hall of fame for
brewers, he'd be numero uno, this bloke.

I mean, could you remember the
first time you had a pint of that, hey?

Leave it out, will you?

That first pint never
touched the sides.

Gerry, I'm an alcoholic.

I know.

A little sensitive,
aren't you? Shut up!

Morning.

G'morning, gentlemen.

I presume you are
jehovah's witnesses.

In which case I must inform you that I am an
adherent of the church of Rome. Wiedersehen.

Hello, I'm
superintendent Pullman.

This is Jack halford.
We rang earlier.

We're looking for Anna hodgkiss.

Anna.

Hi, nice to meet you. Uh,
do you want to follow me?

Sorry to have to put you through
this, especially after such a long time.

No, no, I'm glad. Graham
was the love of my life.

First love. You never
forget, do you? No.

Apparently, you were the last person to see
Graham alive. D'you remember how he was?

Like always, on about his work.

He was mad about it... obsessed.

He did used to get anxious
over things. Like what?

He wasn't happy about some things
that were going on at the brewery.

He never said what
exactly, but I could tell.

You didn't mention this
in the original case file.

Oh, no, I did. I told the
policeman that was in charge.

He didn't take me
seriously. He just thought I...

He made a pass at me.

This would be dci mcadam.

Why didn't you make a
complaint against him?

I was only a kid.

He's the man in charge. If he doesn't
take me seriously, why would anyone else?

Graham was careful, you know?

Meticulous. If he thought
something was wrong, it was.

You don't think it was
an accident, do you?

I know it wasn't.

Graham was very clever.

Lovely boy. Great nose...

Nose? For beer.
It's very important.

You found his
body. It was terrible.

He fell in and he
couldn't get out.

You think so, do
you? Well, don't you?

Well, that's what we're...

Trying to find out.

So, how come you didn't spot
the body till the vat was emptied?

All the foam. He was
stuck at the bottom,

just like the drayman. Sorry?

Drayman and lady Isabella.

Wife of lord ivor felspar. 1780.

Caught her in flag... in fla...

In flagrante?

At it... with a drayman.

His lordship threw her
off the brewing tower

and drowned the drayman in a tank of beer, in
the very same room where Graham Thompson died.

Their ghosts wander the
brewery at night, even to this day...

Night.

Really?! I know. I've seen them.

Saw them the night
Graham disappeared.

Makes you think, doesn't it?

So you were in the brewing tower
the night Thompson went missing?

But you didn't see him?

So what were you doing there?

It's a full moon. Every brewer knows there
are special times to add your ingredients.

Hops. Barley.

It's a very mysterious
process, brewing. It's very scary,

very frightening.

What, finding Thompson? Ghosts.

Thompson was my prot... pro...

Protege. Yeah,
but he was sneaky.

Wanted to be chief brewer. He...

Terrible shame.

Terrible accident.

So, ex-dci mcadam, you
interviewed this girl and,

not content with ignoring what she
had to say, you came on to her? Ho hum.

I'm glad you're bored, cos you've got 15 more
years to practise. This was a suspicious death.

Very, by the look of it.

Really?

I thought it was just a
bad case of drunk diving.

You think this is funny, do you?

I think it's funny coming from
you. What's that supposed to mean?

It means...

I'm not taking lectures on sexual incontinence
from the daughter of Gordon "pants-down" Pullman.

Am I the only person in the met
who doesn't have any dirt on my dad?

I should have told you about your
father. It was a mistake. I'm sorry.

That's ok. It's forgotten.

Thank you, doctor
lilwall. Call me Steve.

Ok. I'll take all this stuff away,
re-examine it and see what gives.

Soon as I have any
results I'll touch base.

Terrific, thanks a lot.

You do realise how lucky you are? Most forensic
scientists won't do their thing outside the lab.

But we're cool.

Wonder if Steve's short for
prat? So, what do you think?

Well, a sloppy, corrupt cop works the case, the dead
man's girlfriend is convinced it wasn't an accident,

and now his ex-boss, there on the night, lets slip
he wasn't exactly enamoured with his... protege.

Yeah. He was
half-pissed. In vino veritas.

In vino maybe, but after 15 cans
of special brew, I'm not so sure.

So, next step, we
check out the brewery.

I agree. And I think you need
your most experienced man.

I think you need an expert on
beer. I am an expert on beer.

Actually, I think you need someone who
doesn't drink. I think you should all go.

Yeah, fair enough. Ok.

I'll catch you later.
I've got to see my mum.

Good afternoon, gentlemen.

Wilfred felspar, but call me
Freddie, everyone does. Freddie.

I'm Jack halford.
How do, Jackie.

Er this is Gerry standing.

How do. Brian Lane.

How do. Hello. Now... time?

One fifty-five!

Cometh the hour.

We'll knock some cobwebs off
these lovelies and get cracking.

Till then...

Sad old business.
Graham Thompson.

I'm sorry. It's just that...

Young thommo... he was...
He was one of the best.

Absolutely brilliant
young feller.

Destined to be one
of the greats. Greats?

Brewers, Gary. Brewers.

Yes, boy was a genius,
and I use the word advisedly.

Only with us for five years but
by heavens, did he make his Mark.

I loved him. Loved
him like a son.

Oh, talk of the devil.

These chaps are here
about young thommo, Julian.

Not a good memory for dad.

Nor for any of us. Julian
felspar. Chief executive.

Yeah, Julian is running the whole
show now, the face of modern brewing.

I'm just the old buffer fronting
up and glad-handing really.

And how's the old buffer been looking after you?
Well, he was just about to offer us a beer, actually.

Yes. That's his usual PR ploy.

No drink for me.
I'm an alcoholic.

So, ever been round a brewery?

No. Oh, my lord. That is
a hole in your education.

Let's put it to right.

Let's go.

Now this is the actual room
where Graham Thompson died.

It's where the beer finally
matures before barrelling.

Yes, it's changed a
lot since thommo's time.

Only one of the old tanks left.

I still don't like to
come here very often.

I see you've cctv cameras now.

That was part of a
semi-rationalisation back in 2000.

And of course to ensure that what
happened to Graham never occurs again.

And what do you think did
happen to Graham Thompson?

Well, as I said back then,

I think he was in here
checking the brew and he just

conked out. Fell in.

During fermentation
there's a lot of co2 given off.

If you're not very
careful, it can make you ill.

Kick like a mule.

I think thommo was overcome
by the fumes and he...

You don't think he was murdered?

Murdered?

No! Why?

I heard he was unhappy. Rubbish. If he had been,
I would have been the first to know about it.

Would hagley have
known? Malcolm?

Malcolm loved
thommo. Everyone did.

No, they were a team...
Incredibly successful team.

Can I ask, where were you
the night Graham went missing?

At home, with my
wife. She was dying.

We got off on the wrong foot
before. I'd like to change that.

But I'd like to persevere
with you, Bobby.

Try and find the
helpful soul within.

Why'd you leave the
Thompson case open?

Why not just write it off
as an accident? Indulge me.

Probably couldn't prove it was. You didn't kill
yourself proving it wasn't. There you go, being nasty.

Ok. Malcolm hagley.

Now he was there the night Thompson went missing
and yet you don't seem to have made much of that.

Or did someone offer you a bung?

Why ignore Anna hodgkiss?
Well, she was very tidy.

Probably drove all other
thoughts out of my mind.

I am prone to playing
away every once in a while.

Not something you have to
worry much about in here, eh?

You know you're not
fooling anyone, darling.

You're not here about
some dead beer-maker.

You're just desperate to know
more about your dear old dad.

Well, let's not disappoint, eh?

I mean, I might have tugged the odd skirt
in my time but at least I never paid for it.

Oh, yeah, your old man was a right one with
the ladies, as long as the price was right.

My father is a very
emotional man.

Yeah, so is Malcolm hagley.

"Tired and emotional".

Has he had a drink problem
for long? Quite a while.

What, since before Thompson
died? Yeah. Why did you keep him on?

I didn't. Soon as I took over
the business in 2000 I er...

Retired him.

That must have
been a bit dangerous...

Hagley's drinking? Yeah.

But then it's a constant
dilemma in a wet brewery. Wet?

Breweries are either wet or dry, depending on
whether the workers are allowed to drink or not.

In a wet one they can.
And felspar's is wet, yeah?

Absolutely bloody soaking.

This is my sister, jacinta.

I understand you're here
about poor old Graham?

You knew Graham
Thompson? He was a sweetie.

I don't recall you being interviewed in the original
investigation. I was in hospital. Jacinta...

Did you want something? Don't worry, I'm not
here to see you! I was looking for daddy.

Er, will it be possible to
talk to you at some point?

Yes, of course. Au revoir.

My sister is an acquired taste.

You don't get on.

She seemed to get
on with Thompson.

And how about you, sir?

Where were you on the
night Thompson died?

In hospital with Jack...

Jacinta.

Holding her hand. All night?

Two nights and three days.

Do you need anything?

I don't mind, it's
not a problem.

Sandra, I'm not an amputee.

I like it here. I know that.

You want to ask me something.

You always preface awkward
questions with offers of help.

I hope you're more subtle when you're
interviewing members of the criminal fraternity.

Do you know a policeman
called Bobby mcadam? Yes.

You do? I've been reading
about him in the papers.

Do you know if dad
knew him? Oh, really!

I had hoped you'd stopped all this
by now. It's not that simple, mum.

What about Ian randle?

Do you honestly think
I can recall the names

of all the men that your father
knew or didn't know 30 years ago?

No. No, I don't.

I haven't been in a
felspar's pub for years.

Not surprised if
they're all like this.

What have they done
to it? It used to be a pub.

When did they stop making
far-reaching, d'you remember?

This is their new
bitter. "Mop top"?

These are pictures of felspar's. Old
ones showing the brewing process.

Not one that did this.

Blimey, this is...

Piss. My god, that's bad.

Welcome to the autopilot. Indulge yourself
in the unique felspar's leisure experience...

What does that mean?
It means the beer's piss.

Hello, could I have a dry white...
Sandra, Sandra, I've got it. Oh, sorry.

How's your mum?
Er, yeah, getting there.

This is nice.

Nice? How? Gastro-pub.

As in gastro-enteritis?

Reminds me of Julian's office -
marketing over content. Who's Julian?

Julian felspar, son of sir Freddie, now the chief
executive of felspar's plc, and brother to jacinta.

Neither of whom mcadam
bothered to interview.

Weird, the lot of them.
And that's Brian talking.

Think house of Usher.

Daddy loved thommo, but won't hear a bad word about
hagley, unlike son Julian, who doesn't get on with his

sister jacinta and the feeling's mutual, but she
gets all perky when you mention the name Thompson.

Look at this. "South of england
best beer, December 2nd 1997.

"Felspar's far-reaching bitter.

"Five times a winner!"

Now Freddie said that Thompson
was only there for five years,

which coincides with the exact
same five years they won the award.

There you are. "South
of england real ale show.

"Now at the jubilee
exhibition hall."

Perfect opportunity to talk to people
who might have known our man. Whatever.

Take Brian. And I think that
jacinta could be very helpful.

I know you do. That's
why I'm coming with you.

Ah, thank you.

Ah, Stevie swaithling?

Yeah? Bloody hell,
you're a woman!

You new men and
your chat-up lines!

Sorry. My name's halford, Jack
halford and this is Brian Lane.

We're from the unsolved
crime and open case squad.

I wonder if we could have a
word with you? Yeah, of course.

Carry on, I'll be back in a bit. Do you
want to go and sit down? Thank you.

We're re-examining the
death of Graham Thompson.

Graham Thompson?
That was terrible.

He was a genius.
Lovely bloke, too.

So I heard. You
knew him well then?

Everyone knew about Graham,
even before he left university.

University? Leeds.
Degree in brewing science.

Shall we sit? Degree?

In brewing?! Oh, yeah.

Graham was head-hunted
even before he left,

but sir Freddie got to
him first. Smart move.

Graham transformed felspar's
from just ok to magnificent.

Far-reaching bitter was
created by Malcolm hagley.

No! No, Malcolm made the stuff, but
everyone knew who was really responsible.

Did hagley know everybody
knew? I mean, was he jealous?

You think Graham was killed?

By Malcolm hagley?

Only thing Malcolm
ever killed was a pint!

Far-reaching bitter didn't
win in 1998. Why not?

It wasn't any good. That's
why there was such a huge row.

Row? With sir Freddie.

Accused us of not storing it
properly, accused the winners

of tampering with it,
accused just about everybody.

Truth was it just wasn't far-reaching
bitter, not the one we all knew and loved.

Is it true that brewers work at odd times,
like during the night, say, or full moon?

Oh, yeah, the superstitious
ones. Yeah, they do all sorts.

So who did win
the best beer in '98?

Er, pole star sa.
Very nice pint.

What will you have? Don't worry, there's not
a hint of felspar's in the whole apartment.

But the brewery paid
for most of this, didn't it?

I got this the hard way.

I married someone.
Tell me about it.

We won't, thanks. You're
not married any more?

No. It was brief.

He was Belgian.

You said that Graham
Thompson was "sweet".

How sweet? Oh, bless you.

My taste doesn't stretch to
horny-handed sons of toil.

Besides, I prefer my
lick of scotch in a glass.

How did he and
Malcolm hagley get on?

Fine.

But I'm not really an
habitue of the brewing tower.

Julian said that you and
he don't see eye to eye.

He's an older brother.

He's very bossy. Overprotective.

About what? I said
Graham was not my type.

He had enough on his plate
with that angry little hairdresser,

don't you think? You
mean Anna hodgkiss?

Yes. I only ever saw her twice, but both times
she was going off at him like a Catherine wheel.

What were the rows about? No idea. It was
beyond the windows of my brother's office.

And you didn't hear what was said? I was taught
it was rude to listen in on other people's misery.

May I ask you two a question?

Are you lovers?

So you like our product.

I like the beer.

As they say in the us, "beer should
be sexy, too". You not having one?

I'm an alcoh... he's driving. Actually, we're
looking into the death of Graham Thompson.

Former assistant... I know
who he was. By reputation.

Did you ever try to employ
him? I mean, back in 1998?

In '98, I couldn't have
afforded Thompson's socks.

Back then, pole star was a microbrewery turning
out less than a thousand gallons a month.

I got the idea in Boston.
Microbreweries are a big thing there.

Low costs, low overheads.

Although I can't say it's
ever quite that simple, is it?

Probably still be there if
we hadn't won best beer.

Thompson dying was a big
slice of luck for you, then?

Apparently, sir Freddie
felspar felt the same.

He accused you of
tampering with his beer.

No-one took that seriously!

Anyhow, I like Freddie.

His son's a different matter.

You know Julian? I
was at uni with him.

Business studies, which is a
joke, given how he runs his.

He'd sell his own
mother to turn a profit.

Not even interested
in the brewery.

Felspar's pubs make most of their money now
with food, which is why their beer's so sh...

Call that beer, jopling?

I can piss better than that!

Pole star?

Should call it bloody cold sore.

I know you, jopling.
I know all about you.

With your fancy ties and your tarts
and your stupid haircut... You're a f...

You're a fraud!

Maybe he thinks your
beer's a little too sexy.

No, Gerry!

On the mat. How many times?

Cup of tea? Please. Hagley's in
a cell in Kensington, unconscious.

The good news is his blood-alcohol level
should get him in the guinness book of records.

Very long time to hold a
grudge. It's a lot more than that.

Hopefully, when he sobers up we'll
find out what. How did you get on?

Enjoy yourself with jacinta?

No, not really.

I don't fancy her.

I'm sure she'll get over it.
No, you don't understand.

I don't fancy her. It's weird.

Maybe you're finally emerging
from puberty. Sorry, yes, I'm here.

Ah, here we go.

"Julian felspar, felspar breweries
limited." Blah blah blah blah blah.

"Bsc business studies, 1990
to 1993, Leeds university."

He kept that one
quiet. Let's try jopling.

Yes, "pole star brewery." "The
boss's blog, by Tony jopling.

"About me..." Egomaniac.

"You probably want to know what kind of guy
builds a business success story from scratch."

Egomaniac tosser.
Blah blah blah blah blah.

"Masters degree in business management, Harvard,
after a degree in business studies from..."

Don't tell me, Leeds university?

In one. And again, 1990 to 1993.

And Sandra tells
me that sweet...

..That sweet little Anna might not be so sweet
after all. What, you think jacinta's lying?

Oh, no, her alibi checks out. She was
at the Wellesley park private clinic, where

super-rich ladies go when
they're having trouble with their bits.

Gynaecological.

Well, she was there from the 27th to
the 29th of November, as was Julian,

who was keeping her company
in a luxurious family suite.

What about sir Freddie?

His wife died at home on November 30th
of cancer, and Freddie was at her bedside.

Had been there all week, apparently. There was a dr
Morgan, the family gp, who signed the death certificate.

According to him,
Freddie was devoted to her.

Well, what we do know is Julian, jopling
and Thompson were all at Leeds together,

even though jopling reckons he
only knew Thompson by reputation.

Correct. And in '98, when Thompson goes missing and
felspar's bitter goes off, jopling wins best beer.

Evening, all!

Thought I'd stop by, give you
the bad news mano a mano.

The tests on Thompson's clothing
were negative. No blood, DNA,

nothing to help you.
Is that it, "Steve"?

Well, actually, there is
one odd thing. It's gm barley.

Who's he?

No, the barley in
Thompson's coat pockets.

It's genetically
modified. Illegal.

Even more so back in 1998.

I'm having the defra labs do further
tests done to try and find its provenance.

Place of origin.

Soon as the word's
solid, I'll blip it on to you.

Ciao!

One of these days,
I'm gonna blip him.

So Anna was right,

there was trouble
at the brewery.

And Thompson knew it.

This looks like a
two-pint problem.

You coming? No,
no, count me out.

I've got paperwork.
See you in the morning.

Ok, so what is it
with Sandra, then?

What's going on? All I know is
she's not telling us what she's up to.

She got a bloke? Nah.

Then she'd be all drippy
and stupid, wouldn't she?

Promotion? Nah. Then
she'd be all nice to us.

Concerned, et cetera.

Is she pregnant?

Well, you can ask her! Well,
I don't know. What, then?

Mcadam knew her dad.

And he let her know.

People will start to talk.

I'm going to ask you a few questions, ex-dci
mcadam, and you're going to answer them.

You're wasting
your breath, darling.

They all know I'm ex-job. Wait till they hear about
the little kiddies you've been interfering with.

I haven't been messing with any.

You...

Get me out of here.

You ain't going anywhere, Bobby.

So let's talk.

1974. You worked in vice.

Might have done.

Yeah, yeah, all right.

The Harmony massage parlour,
canning town. I take it vice knew about it?

They ran it. They ran it?

No-one told Jack
halford's investigation.

No. Well, vice are going to
co-operate with the cib inquiry.

Right. Cops don't
rat on each other.

Good thing for
your dad we don't.

How d'you work that one out
when he ended up killing himself?

Your mum still gets her pension.

Ok, Ian randle - how
does he fit into all of this?

All I know

is there was a working girl.

Randle was her pimp.

But she decides to move to
a better-class establishment.

Randle has words,
loses it, kills her.

Your dad took exception to this because, allegedly,
he and said girl were "fond of each other".

Word is he got randle alone and
shot him in the massage parlour.

This working girl -
what's her name?

It was thirty
years ago, darling.

Only ones who'll
know are her mates.

Know any sixty-year-old whores?

So, Julian, would
you care to let us know

why you didn't mention that you were
at university with Graham Thompson?

Well, we shared a flat for a while, but I
only did brewing science for three months.

I swapped courses,
Graham didn't.

Brewing was his life.

He was a good guy, but obsessed.

In 1998, whose job was it to
order the company's supplies?

Hops, barley, so forth?

Used to be Malcolm, and then I took
over at the end of the year. Because?

Well, I felt that
Malcolm was too...

Pissed?

Profligate.

Why, is it important?

You never know in this job.

Feeling better?

Give me a drink. What, so you
can have another go at jopling?

I need a drink.

No, you don't. You want
one. It's not the same thing.

You don't understand. No?

Try this.

You feel like death.

If you don't have
a drink, you'll die,

or worse, you'll sober up.

But if you sober up,

you'll have to think
about something.

If you think about anything, it'll
be how much you hate yourself

and how much better off
everyone would be if you were dead.

But that would
mean killing yourself.

You haven't got
the courage for that.

So, you have a
drink. Who are you?

That's better.

Only, I ask the questions, ok?

Now, why did you go mad
at jopling yesterday? Who?

Tony jopling. Pole star.

At the beer festival.

He...

I don't know. Ok, let's go
back a bit further, shall we?

1998, the year Thompson
died. You ordered some barley.

Oh, er, yeah, maybe.

Yes. Ordered it just
before the beer festival.

You remember? Malcolm? Hm?

It was gm barley.

Genetically modified barley.

Yes, you, Malcolm.

You got hold of it.

But it's not allowed in this
country. So, where did you get it?

What are you talking about? I don't know what
you're talking about. Leave me alone! Malcolm!

Look at me!

Knock at door did
you order gm barley?

Stop it, please!

Brian, Steve's on his way.

He's got something
"wicked" to tell us.

Hi, guys. Check this out.

The barley in the dead man's
pockets is a strain called cerebus,

developed by distance
agritech of the us.

They applied to trial the grain in Europe
in 1993 but were refused an import licence.

Cerebus was up to 30% cheaper than
most conventional barley at the time.

But when it failed its licence, it
became more or less worthless for export.

Cool, huh?

Distance agritech.

"Taking cereals to a new level."
Hq, Boston, Massachusetts.

As in the Boston where
jopling got his big idea?

What if jopling got hagley to sabotage felspar's
beer so pole star could win at Olympia?

Thompson found out
about it, so jopling killed him.

That would explain why
hagley's so angry, so ashamed.

Guys, if you're looking to prove
this there is a slight problem.

Without samples of the
beer at the time to analyse,

there's no way of proving gm barley
was or wasn't in this or that beer.

Well, there is a way
of solving the problem.

I'm not going to
like this, am I?

Sorry it's so late, Freddie. Not at all, but
I'm afraid you won't see much at the moment.

Everyone's rattling off
home. Oh, that's all right.

I just want to whizz through,
reacquaint myself with the geography.

I'll wait here, then.

We're in.

Gerry! Argh!

Oh, bloody hell, Brian, what
do you think you're doing?

I've been through those
supply order files. Nothing.

Now, I want to have
another look at those tanks.

Be careful.

Idiot!

At the real ale show when
Thompson was missing,

you accused Tony jopling
of sabotaging your beer.

I was very upset, very stressed
at the time. What with my wife...

Are you now saying that he
didn't interfere with your beer?

Er, sir Freddie, is there
something you know about jopling

which for some reason you
feel you don't, erm...? No.

No, I don't. Oh!

Oh, er, are you all right?

Are you ok, Brian?

I am fine, thank you, Jack!

Er, thank you, Freddie.

Are you raving mad?
What was I supposed to do?

Well, what about Brian?
He'll think of something.

Hello?

Oi! You've locked me in!

Beer.

Beer.

Felspar's fighting bitter.

Now, that's three bottles each
for every year from '92 to '98.

Well, that should be enough for
the doc to analyse, shouldn't it?

If it's ok. Oh,
no, they're all full.

No, no, no, no, no, I
mean, if it hasn't gone off.

Let's see, erm,
"best before 07.96".

No, that date thing's just
for health and safety, innit?

To cover 'em for
insurance purposes.

Steve's only going to
need one bottle, isn't he?

For each year? And the
lab can only tell you so much.

I mean, it's all about
taste. Jack, you're brilliant.

He laughs

Slurring: Would you
pass me my crocodile?

It is time to eat my
cheese and pantaloons.

Looks good.

Mm, smells good!

He howls

No! No!

1997.

'92, '93, '94,

'95, '96 and '97.

I particularlarlarlary
like the '96.

So, now for the '98.

Let's go back to the '92.

Try taking a few deep
breaths. He burps

thank you. What
are you doing here?

Sorry about that. I
was with your father,

and the next thing
I know, he's gone.

Well, it's lucky for
you we got cctv.

Two deaths could
hardly both be accidents.

♪ Just in time, I
found you just in time

♪ before you came, my
time was running low... ♪

exhibit a. Where
are the samples?

I mean the ones with
the beer still in them.

You want a fight? What?!
Oh, no, no, no, Gerry, leave it.

It's not worth it.

You think you're so
clever, don't you? Huh?

How is it? It's fine. It's fine.

Honestly, I don't mind. If
you don't like it, you can say.

I just thought it would be nice
for me to bring you something.

And for us to spend
an evening together.

Because you've got
something to tell me, you said.

Something important. Again.

When he died,
dad was in trouble.

He was in a lot of trouble.

He was being
investigated by the cib

for unlawfully killing someone.

I'm trying to find out why. But it's really difficult,
because it's such a long time ago. Man or woman?

A man.

But I think it was
because of a woman.

Who was it, the
person he killed?

It was someone
called Ian randle.

The woman, and I don't know
her name, she was a prostitute.

Did you know he was
seeing someone else?

He called me by the wrong name.

The first time it happened,
we made a joke of it.

And then he did it
again, just before he died.

At the wrong time,
in the wrong place.

"Deirdre." I mean, imagine?

Just the sound of it.

"Deirdre."

Men are so bloody strange.

I know.

I don't think I'll ever
understand them.

That's cos there really isn't
very much to understand.

So, if hagley was
delirious on co2,

it would explain why he
thought he saw ghosts.

But, of course, like me,

the apparitions he saw were
almost certainly real people.

Now, November 27th,
1998 was a full moon.

Hagley was there, brewing away, probably
drinking as well. The fumes kicked in...

The alcohol kicked in, and it all
went a bit weird. Sound familiar?

Good morning. Well, for
you, as it happens, yes.

From the limited residue I was
able to recover from the bottles,

tests show that one of them did contain
traces of genetically modified material.

The cerebus gm barley.

Correct. The bottle of
far-reaching bitter from 1998.

Ok. Thank you. What
do we say, boys?

Thanks, Steve.

Sorry, Steve.

I also found on the other
bottles traces of e. Coli,

campylobacter and
salmonella as well.

Enjoy...

Phone rings

hello?

Right.

Malcolm hagley. He
wants to meet me for a chat.

He offered me money.

What?

Money.

A bribe. Who?

Who do you think?

How do you explain your
attempt to bribe Malcolm hagley?

Cerebus barley was developed
in Boston whilst you were there.

I think you had it
imported illegally to the UK

with the intention of adding
it to the far reaching brew

in order to sabotage
it. That's ridiculous.

You thought Malcolm hagley would be amenable
because you knew he resented Thompson.

So, that night, you went
to the brewing tower.

Only problem was,
hagley was unwell,

delirious from the
effects of too much co2.

And to make matters worse,
Thompson turned up, as well.

You're making this up. I think you murdered
Graham Thompson. And I'm not making that up.

I didn't do it!

I wasn't there, I swear to god!

I'm giving you a chance to
explain, and it's your last chance.

Look, yeah, ok, I
tried to bribe him,

but that was to try and get
the recipe for far reaching bitter.

Anyway, he said "no."

He knocked me
back. So did Stevie.

I don't know anything
about any gm barley.

Stevie swaithling?

You tried to bribe
her to win best beer?

No, to get Thompson's recipe.

She was knocking him off.

Yeah! Mad about him.

Why didn't you tell us you were
having an affair with Graham Thompson?

I didn't see that it was
anyone's business.

You mean you didn't want to be
a suspect in a murder inquiry. Me?

I loved him. But he
didn't love you, did he?

I don't know what
you're trying to say.

I'm saying that he didn't
want to see you any more.

You don't understand.

What hurt most, being rejected for a
hairdresser or just someone younger?

My god, you don't think there
was just two of us, do you?

Women liked Graham.
Lots of women.

Hm!

Where you going? Well, you
know me, Jack - workaholic.

Doorbell rings

You're a very bad man.

So all my exes say.

Do you often eat alone?

Yes. That way I'm with
someone who cares.

Yeah, I know how you feel.

I often prefer the
food to the partners.

But talking of partners, you
said your marriage was brief.

But getting married, separating and
divorcing all within the space of 18 months,

that really is going
some, even for me.

Raphael schamp?
It's pronounced "shom".

Ah, right.

Belgian brewing heir.

You must have had a lot in
common. No. So why marry him?

None of your business.

Ok.

Then why did he divorce you?

He did divorce you, and
not the other way round.

Was it because he realised
that you didn't love him?

Because you were still holding
a torch for someone else,

even though that
someone else was dead?

No. Raphael divorced me because
he found out I couldn't have children,

thereby failing to ensure both his
and my dynastic brewing heritage.

"The inheritance of waste,"

to paraphrase my
stupid family motto.

Now, if you don't mind,

I and my salsiccia Linguini would
like to get to know each other... alone.

A Belgian multimillionaire marries someone
without knowing whether they can have kids or not?

Who says romance is dead(?) She may not
have realised until after she was married.

Sandra, she spent three days in
the Wellesley park private clinic!

Of course she knew!

All right, but what's that
got to do with gm barley?

More to the point, what's that
got to do with Thompson's death?

Well, it's got something
to do with it. With her.

I don't know, she gives out
this really unhappy feeling.

I've met women like her before.

I bet you have. I don't want to upset your
"feelings", but as far as I'm concerned,

they're no substitute for facts or evidence,
both of which we have just about bugger all.

So, tomorrow morning, we're going to come back
in and we're going to start all over again.

Wait a minute, where are you going?
To get some facts! What about her?

Mobile!

Ah, yeah, yeah. Hi. Hi.

Erm, can you put me through to
your cereals department, please?

Night! Good night, Sandra.

Night.

Ah, hi. Brian? Phone me.

Sorry, sorry, yes.

My name's Malcolm hagley.

I'm just checking on a consignment I
ordered from you several years ago.

I hope you've chained your
bike to something strong.

Jean Bennett? I understand you
used to know Deirdre Mortimer.

Oh, please, no. No, no, Jean, wait,
please. I'm a police officer. Look, look.

Ok?

In 1973, you and Deirdre
were arrested for soliciting,

and Ian randle, your pimp, was
charged with living off immoral earnings.

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

My father was Gordon Pullman, the man
who's supposed to have killed Ian randle.

Jean, all I'm trying to do is find out
the truth about my dad. Please help me.

I'll tell you what.

There is no way she is
visiting a boyfriend. Not here.

That's a very classist remark.

What, you think she's decided
she wants a hoodie as a soul mate?

She might surprise you.

She might be a lot more
open to change than you think.

Well, her car certainly is.

Deirdre was beautiful.

Randle called her goose,

cos she was the goose
what laid the golden eggs.

Classy punters. Thanks.

Yeah, randle had
big plans for her.

Then she met your dad.

Actually, she'd
known him a long time.

Randle had no idea.

And then she told him she weren't having any
more to do with him, she was getting out.

And randle killed her for that.

And what about my father?

You won't want to hear this,
but he was in love with her.

So, he killed randle
out of revenge.

No, to protect the boy.

What boy?

Deirdre's boy, Carl.

He was four years old. He was
there when randle killed his mum.

Only he was hiding.

Then randle found him, and when he realised
he'd seen everything that happened,

he was strangling him
when your dad come in.

Your dad shot randle,

saved Carl's life.

Then he brought him to me

to make sure no-one knew.

What happened to him?

I couldn't look after him.
I didn't know what to do.

In the end, I left him in a church,
so someone good would take him in.

I don't know where he is now.

Look, it's just a simple
misunderstanding.

Yeah, well, me gonna misunderstand
your arse, granddad. Oi! Get in the car.

Hey, check out
granddad's biatch.

Delta Charlie one to control. Can you please send
armed back-up to hurst tower on the mears estate?

We have several hooded perps, possibly
armed, assaulting three pensioners.

"Pensioners"?!

Oh, it's your mobile.
Nice one. Care to explain?

You first. Do you fancy a drink?

Sure.

You don't know that
what she told you is true.

No, I don't. And even if it was,
there's no way you could prove it.

That's not what I'm looking for, Jack. I'm
glad we know why you were acting so weird.

So, this woman says your dad
did it to save a child's life? Mm-hm.

Well, I buy that.

Talking of child's lives,

I think you should know
that 90% of the admissions

to the Wellesley park
clinic are for terminations.

How d'you know that? It's the old ways and means
act. It's not how you know, it's who you know.

Jacinta was in there for three days. Abortions
don't take that long, even in a private clinic.

Not unless something goes wrong.
There's more. I rang distance agritech.

They've no record of selling
anything to a Malcolm hagley,

but they do have a record of
selling it to someone in the us,

someone who told them they were
setting up a microbrewery there.

Jopling? No.

Ah! Thank you for
coming, ms felspar.

I just wanted to check exactly who
was where on the night Thompson died.

Now, you were in a private clinic. Can you
tell me, what was the nature of your illness?

I don't see that's
any of your business.

I'm sorry, but I think we've reached
the point where it is my business.

Julian, you were
there. Can you tell me?

Well, I really think
that's for my sister to say.

You're very sensitive to your sister's wishes all
of a sudden, given that you're not that close.

But then, I reckon you've never been close
to anyone, certainly not Graham Thompson.

That's not true! Thommo and
Julian got on famously together.

Sir wilfred, I know this is very difficult
for you, but please, you must listen.

Your father obviously loved Thompson,
saw him as the son that he wished he'd had.

So, he was a direct threat to your
future. You think I killed Graham?

The night he died, I
was with my sister.

Holding her hand? I don't think even close relatives get
to hold the hand of someone who's having an abortion.

Why can't you have
children, jacinta?

What was it? An infection?

Ectopic pregnancy?

I'm truly sorry.

You lied to us, Julian.

You told us that hagley ordered
supplies up to 1998. Which is true.

What you didn't say was that early
that year you purchased supplies

of genetically modified barley in the
United States and had it shipped to the UK.

That was to reduce costs.

Even if that were true, it still wrecked
Thompson's landmark beer, and he found out,

about the same time that you found
out your sister was pregnant by him.

No! A possible
heir for sir Freddie?

I don't think so.

Jack?

Tell them, Jack. Tell us what?

That you made sure
she had an abortion?

An operation that went so badly
wrong it left her infertile? No!

No! Jacinta, please!

No wonder she hates you.

Look, we don't believe you set out to kill
Thompson. We think you just wanted him fired.

I didn't kill Graham! I wasn't
anywhere near here that night.

Look at your sister,
Julian. Tell her it wasn't true.

Jacinta, please. Help me! You kill
a man to save your inheritance. No!

I did not do that!
No? No! Why not?

Because the child wasn't his!
And how would you know that?

Because it was mine.

You satisfied?
The child was mine.

Mine... stop it! Stop this!

My son never killed thommo.

I did. Sir wilfred, please...

Shut up!

It was me. Do you
understand? It was me.

Thommo, erm, Graham Thompson,

he came to see me.
He was very unhappy.

He'd discovered that
someone had tried to add cheap,

poor-quality grain
to the mash brew.

He confronted Malcolm
hagley, but he denied it.

Then he found out who had
actually got hold of the barley.

Julian? Yeah.

So, he arranged to meet
me at night in the brewery.

I left my wife,

she was pumped
full of diamorphine,

and I went to the
fermentation room.

Thommo was there.

He asked me to try
the barley, taste it.

He was right.

He insisted that I sack
Julian. And you wouldn't?

No.

No, I told him that the
brewery was a family business.

The name over the
gate was felspar,

not Thompson. What
was his reaction?

He said the beer
was his, not ours.

"In that case", I said,
"you can take it with you.

"You're fired.

"You're just a
brewer, not family."

"No," he said.

"If I was family, I'd be
sleeping with my own sister,

"like Julian does."

Then what?

I lashed out.

He was taken by surprise.

He fell backwards into the vat.

He couldn't get out. Look, I
tried to help him, I tried to reach in,

pull him out, but I couldn't.
I couldn't get him out.

And then I saw Malcolm.

He must have seen everything, but he didn't
even know who I was, thought I was a ghost.

I never let my children
know that I knew, but I did.

I knew something was not right.

I blame myself.

My wife and I,

we scarcely saw them,
even in the holidays.

They grew up with
only themselves,

without any love

save their own.

I blame myself.

Think he'll go
down? Manslaughter.

I don't think he cares. Why
didn't jacinta say something?

What could she say
in front of her dad?

Well, I told you there was
something weird going on.

Seeing as you were so right,
you can so write this one up.

Good night. Good night.

Night.

Yeah, good night(!)

The last one.

What a shame(!)