All language subtitles for Silent Witness S16E05 True Love Waits (1)- EN

Hello, darling.

You all right, darling?
All right, girls?

How much, love?

I'm just waiting for a friend.

I'll be your friend, sweetheart.

OK. The prick tease stops right now,
tonight! Get in there!

Argh!

Oof!

What's your name? Piss off!

Two choices.

I take you home, or I take you
down to the station

and I book you for soliciting.

You've run away.

Did your dad abuse you? What?

Your dad,
did he sexually abuse you? No!

So, why'd you run away?

You were bored?

Is that it?

You're going to throw your
whole life away out of boredom?

That's just stupid.

What the hell do you
care about my life?

You've just assaulted
a police officer.

A GBH charge will stick,
and that's a year in prison.

Or... I could take you home.

Derek MacNeil.
Thank you for bringing her home.

Your daughter's very beautiful.
What's her name? Imogen.

Did my daughter...?

No. Her pimp did.

Oh, God!

Thank you.

PC Lane. PC Alan Lane.

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DI Kate Warren,
this is DS Roger Baron.

Nikki Alexander, pathologist.
Jack Hodgson, forensics.

The, er... body's in the flat above
the pub. Joanne Henderson, aged 32.

Hubby Roly Henderson
said their daughter found her

whilst he was asleep
in the bar downstairs.

Says he slipped in her blood
when he found her,

but we've no sign of forced entry.

Every second he's moving around,
he's compromising blood evidence.

I'll start processing him.
Thank you, Jack.

I want to see my dad!
I know you do, love.

I want to see my dad! That's it.

I want to see my dad! Look,
just give us a minute, all right?

Why don't you take her
out to the car? Yes, Ma'am.

Come on, come on. No! Come on.

Are you all right?

What's your name?

My name's Nikki.

I'm so sorry.
Can you take me to my dad? Please?

Of course.

We just need his help with a few
things first. Dr Alexander?

I need to go.

But I want you to be as brave
as you can until I get back, OK?

Good girl.

You had no business telling her
she can see her dad.

There's blood on her pyjama top.
I'll bag it after I've processed
the body.

Fine. Does she have relatives?

Give us a chance, love.

We've contacted Social Services.

Maybe there's a friend
she can stay with? Maybe there is.

Let's just focus on the job in hand,
shall we?

Multiple stab wounds
to the chest and neck.

Massive exsanguination.

Murder weapon as yet unrecovered.

Must be £200 in that purse
over there.

Wasn't a robbery.
Doesn't look like a sex crime either.

Still in her pyjamas.

The old lockstep.

Outbreak of rage,
then profound regret.

I'm not seeing any regret.

When the daughter found her,
she was covered with a sheet.

It's what the murder manual
calls care and concern.

Regret after the fact.

Blue fibres under the fingernails
of the right hand.

The fourth fingertip
on the left hand

has been amputated at the distal
interphalangeal joint.

When SOCOs move the body, they
should look for a missing fingertip.

She's a big girl. Might be under
there with the murder weapon.
Have some bloody respect!

Where's me daughter?
Just hold still, please.

Where's me daughter?

I asked you a question!

I'm going to need to ask you to take
your shirt off. Is that OK?

Yeah. Let me take his cuffs off.

I'd say well over
50 per cent blood loss.

You're a betting man.

At a depth of half a centimetre,

one litre will cover an area
of 2,000 square centimetres.

Could you close the curtains,
please, Nikki?

Anyone wearing trainers?

Lead on, please.

What does this mean? Eh?
I'm under arrest?

No. Not yet.

But I can soon fix that.

You got kids?

Then you can imagine how scared
my daughter is right now.

I need to see her. OK?
Two minutes, that's all.

You'll be there the whole time.

There we are.

Are we, er... nearly done?

Looks like the trail ends here.

Maybe not.

These might explain
why he was in his socks.

I'm thinking
that could be our murder weapon.

The hood might explain
how he kept the blood off his face.

It's going to be OK.
Yeah. I promise you.

Em?

Look at me, Em, look at me.

Escort her to the car now.

Come on. Come on now.

Roly Henderson, I'm arresting you

on the suspicion of the murder
of Joanne Henderson.

You do not have to say anything,
but it may harm your defence

if you do not mention
when questioned something

which you later rely on in court.

You'll be astounded to hear the blue
fibres under the victim's nails

are visually similar
to the blue fibres

from the blood-soaked fleece.

Thanks, Clarissa.

Chemical tests should confirm.

Over a hundred women are killed every
year by their husband or partner.

I just listen to the evidence.

Yeah, right!

Thanks, Jack, that's great.

Not a problem. Good luck.

Jack?

If his lawyer's happy,
why don't you sit in, make sure
I don't fluff the science?

Yeah, sure.

I got a D in biology.

I'm not kidding.

You said you slept in a bar last
night. Is that a regular occurrence?

We'd had a stupid argument.

Me wife had started letting Emma
do her homework in the bar.

You disapproved?

Yeah. I didn't like her sitting there
next to God knows who.

So, you made your feelings known?

It was classic. It was tit for tat.
I had a pop at Joanne about Emma,

she had a go at me for slicing lemons
without a chopping board and, um...

I lost it.

I raised me voice a bit and then...

I chucked the knife in the sink.

So, you screamed at your wife
in front of the pub

and threw a knife
in her general direction?

No, I threw it in the sink. Where
was she standing? Near the sink?

Well, yeah, but...

What if you'd missed?

What happened next?

Bearing in mind we've taken
statements from other patrons.

I took a bottle of whisky from
the shelf and I walked out.

And the fact that your daughter
was sat there didn't bother you?

You being so concerned about
exposing her to the indecencies
of the public bar?

These swabs are from the suspect?
Hm. Neck and face.

I want to check there's no trace
of the victim's blood.

Always harder to prove a negative.
Hm.

Negative is exactly what it is.

If he washed blood off his face,
you'd expect to find trace,
wouldn't you?

Unless he used
a bleach-based detergent.

But then his hair would be streaked

and I'd be picking up sodium
hypochlorite, which I'm not.

You're sure? I'm sure I'm sure.

Good news? What?
You look pleased, that's all.

No, I'm just... Well,
OK, I am pleased.

If Roly Henderson's guilty,

his 10-year-old daughter
lost both her parents today.

Describe your marriage.

It's good.

It's good. It's happy.

No problems?

There were problems.
Every marriage has problems.

Expand, please.

Mr Henderson?!

She slept with someone.

An old school friend.

It was months ago.

He was more her age, was he?

It was nothing to do with that.

When did you find out?

Last week. How? I found a text.

Why don't you just tell me
how it happened?

Nothing happened.
I didn't do anything!

Where can we reach him,
your wife's lover?

He wasn't her lover. OK?

It was a one-off thing.
It meant nothing to her.

So, you were understanding, then,
when she told you about it?

Come on, Roly.

Isn't that the real cause
of your row? No, it wasn't!

His name's David Clancey.

He lives in Edinburgh, I think.

Do you recognise these trainers
and this fleece?

They're mine.

When did you last wear them?

Last night. What about the knife?

We recovered your fingerprints
from the handle.

Of course you did. I just told you,
I was using it last night.

The thing is, the fingerprints
on the knife are undisturbed.

What?

It suggests no other hand
held the knife after yours did.

There's clear continuity
with some of the spatter.

And an airborne blood pattern

around the right sleeve from repeated
stabbing of the victim.

The killer was wearing this fleece,
yeah? With the hood up.

See the spatter around the rim?

But the samples from the suspect's
face proved negative for blood.

Given the blood on his hood,

you'd expect his face to be
showered in blood.

Maybe he was wearing a mask as well
as a hood. We didn't find a mask.

Plus a mask and a hood
doesn't exactly yell

heat-of-the-moment domestic killing.

Well, who said it was?

Detective Inspector Kate Warren.

Ah!

Yeah. Well, let's see what
the postmortem brings to light.

I drove out to the common.

I drank most of the Jameson's
and came home.

So, you drove home with a bottle
of whisky in you?

I've made better choices.
And worse ones too, I'll bet.

So, angry and drunk,
you get back to the pub...?

I'm not angry, just drunk.
What time?

I don't know. About 3:00, maybe.

And were you wearing these trainers
and this fleece?

Yes.

I think I kicked the trainers off
and, um...

um... draped the fleece over me.
You know, to keep warm.

You think you did,
or you suppose you must have?

The truth is, the first thing
I remember for certain is Em...

is Emma shaking me awake.

I could see the blood
on, on her pyjamas and the...

and the t-t-the terror in her eyes.

I went upstairs to find Joanne
and she was... she was on the floor.

She was covered with a sheet
and there was blood everywhere.

Did you attempt to resuscitate her?

No! I could see she was dead.

There was blood everywhere.
I slipped in it.

Mr Henderson, it's early days,

but so far, we've found no sign
of forced entry, no sign of robbery,

and no suggestion your wife
was sexually assaulted.

My version of events,

you didn't forgive Joanne
for this fling. Quite the opposite.

You knew it was her looking for a
way out and you weren't having it.

You came back this morning
drunk and angry.

You came back with just enough
whisky-fuelled courage

to finish what you'd started. No!

You even used the same knife.

This time, you didn't throw it
in the sink. That's not true!

And in the time it took
for her to die,

you hid your fleece,
your shoes and the knife

and you let your daughter find
her mother's butchered corpse

in the hope
that she'd give you an alibi.

You're coming to the postmortem,
aren't you? I thought I'd look in.

Who is Kate Warren to you?

What? She's not another one
of your ex-girlfriends, is she?

No! So, you've worked together,
then?

Why do you ask? Well, you pulled
a face when I mentioned her name,

then covered with that old
classic, "Let's see what the
postmortem brings to light." So...?

Her father is Tony Warren.

Deputy Chief Constable.

He sends us approximately a third
of our workload.

Ah! Yes.

Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting.

Victim is a previously healthy
32-year-old female

identified as Joanne Henderson.

There are incisions and possible
defensive wounds to both hands.

Did SOCOs find the fingertip?
Not yet.

The distal phalanx of
the little finger on the left hand

has been removed.

A straight, clean cut
that suggests a sharp blade.

Jagged depressions on the skin

suggests a blade
with a serrated edge.

Are you sure about that?

No. That's why I said suggests.

Is there a problem? Yeah.
The knife we found has a flat blade.

What are you swabbing for?

Leukotriene B4.

It's something that we've been
testing for recently.

Leukotriene B4,
it's a healing receptor.

And, er... if we don't find it,

it suggests that the wound
was postmortem.

I noticed an absence of bleeding
at the scene.

And, as you can see,
there's no inflammation.

So, the finger was severed
a few seconds after death?

More like a few minutes,
which is clearly significant.

Not clear to me.

Earlier today, you were quoting
from the Murder Manual.

I've only read the chapters
relevant to pathology,

but I do recall that the taking
of body parts from the scene

is associated with the trophies
of psychopaths,

not domestic murders.

Wound number eight -
a diagonally-oriented chest wound

that penetrated the pleural cavity.

The tip of your broken,
flat-bladed knife.

Wound number nine
is an incision to the neck

that severed the carotid artery.

This was the fatal injury and
produced the heavy blood spatter

documented at the scene
of the crime.

This wound is four inches deep.

Deeper than the other wounds

and not consistent
with the two-and-a-half inch,

flat-bladed knife that was recovered
from the scene. Are you sure?

Wounds one to seven were only
two-and-a-half inches deep.

I think that wound was caused by

a four-inch-plus blade
with a jagged edge.

A hunting knife seems probable.

We're not just missing
the fingertip, we're missing
the murder weapon, as well?

Neighbours didn't hear any cars
coming or going before we arrived.

In which case,
our missing murder weapon,

which might look
something like this,

should still be under this roof.

Believe it or not,
there are 42 rooms in this dump

and our suspect's had five years

to acquaint himself with
every loose board and empty pipe.

Plenty of places to hide
a good stash of coke, then.

Coca-Cola, not charlie!

OK. There's three levels
with a basement area

encompassing eleven toilets,
four kitchens

and two entirely separate sets
of plumbing.

Split into ten sections
for your convenience.

We should get the sniffer dogs in.

Unless... anyone
has any reason not to.

Suspect lives here.

His scent's going to be everywhere.
Well, blow me.

Right, that's it. Piss off! Get out!

What? Ma'am?

Don't "Ma'am" me! Go on, go!

Right, lads, let's get started.

What was all that about?
Doesn't matter.

It mattered enough to send him home.
Try me.

Excuse me.

Dad.
"Hello, Katie. You charged him yet?"

Not yet. There's been a couple of...
I'm outside.

You found that other knife?

I'll talk to you in a minute.

I talked to Mike Shields at the CPS.

Something came to light at the
postmortem. I know. A second knife.

No doubt you'll find it,
along with the missing fingertip.

There's always going to be things
that point the other way, Kate.

Yeah, I know, but...

but I'm just not sure
that he did it.

It's not your concern.
Your concern is, do I have a case?

Do I have enough to charge him?

Mike Shields thinks you do.

He says you charge Henderson now
and you add stuff down the line.

Yeah, but... One win, Katie.

One win and you're back on track.

Yeah. This is it.

I just need some more time.

Motive - she was unfaithful.
Months ago.

Then last night, he's throwing knives
and screaming at her in front
of the rest of the pub.

Means - his knife, his fingerprints,

his bloody fleece and shoes.

Opportunity -
Henderson alone had access.

There's no sign of forced entry.

Dad, you've got to trust me.

People go down every day on far less
than what you've got.

Why are you talking to the CPS
about my case?

Are you using again?

What? You better not be.

I put my neck on the line for you.

You throw that in my face,
we're finished.

Dad?

Had a look at your broken blade.

Blood from your victim
mixed in with some lemon pith

and dried citrus juice.

Roly Henderson was using the knife
to slice lemons with.

Found a bright green fibre
where the blade meets the handle.

First I thought,
"Was it '80s night at the pub?"

But it's high-absorbency microfibre,
which doesn't scream clothing.

He was using the knife
to slice lemons with.

You just said that.

Thanks, Clarissa.

This is...

Dynamite? Interesting.

Jack?

Think somebody came through there?
What?

Broken shelf under a window.

No, that was me. I was checking
the guttering and it broke.

Bit embarrassing.

Did you hurt yourself? I'll live.

I'd better bag the shelf, anyway.

Jack? I think we've got enough
to charge Henderson
without the second knife.

What's the rush?

Plenty of time to gather
more evidence, right?

Well, we can add stuff to
the charge sheet down the line.

Do me a favour, hang fire
for half an hour. Why?

Dr Alexander wants to show you
something. She's on her way now.

You have witnesses who say Roly
threw the knife in the sink
and left? Yes.

On and on and on and on at me

and it's driving me barmy,
do you know what I mean?

And none of them said he retrieved
the knife from the sink
before he went out?

He must've picked it up
when he got back later.

The bar was clean and tidy
this morning.

And Joanne was killed around 6:00am
in her bedroom.

What's your point? That she must've
cleaned up last night.

If Roly picked the knife up
when he came back,

it would've already been through
the dishwasher. Who says it didn't?

Lemon juice and a green fibre
recovered from the broken blade.

Well, she was upset after the row.

Maybe she missed the knife
and left it in the sink.

Unlikely. It's spotless.

So, if Roly didn't take
the knife with him

and if it didn't go through
the dishwasher, then what's left?

Someone else took the knife
after Roly left

and before Joanne cleared up.

And I think they used the missing
green bar towel as a mitt.

Chuck something in the sink.

It's the only stool close enough
to reach the sink.

And the only one
with a missing green towel.

I'll print it. Do we have any idea
who was sitting here?

Do you remember where
were you were sitting?

Would you mind sitting up there now?

Thanks.

So you were doing your homework?
Yeah.

Mum was helping me with my fractions.

From this position,

you could see all the customers
in this part of the pub?

Did you know any of them?

George was sitting
there, where he always sits.

And...

what about at that end of the bar?

A man.

Did you know him?

No. Can you describe him?

Dark hair. Anything else?

Did he speak to anyone?

I... I don't know.

I don't think so.

Just after your dad left,
did this man do anything strange?

Like what? Did you see him
reach into the sink?

No.

Roly Henderson, I am charging you
with the murder of Joanne Henderson.

You do not have to say anything
but it may harm your defence...

No. No. I didn't do it!
I didn't do it! I didn't do it!

I'd never, never kill me wife.

I didn't kill me wife, OK.
You've got to find who killed her.

They've charged him.

I've been checking through
domestic murder cases

where body parts went
missing from the scene.

Well, four years ago, Eleanor
Marshall was bludgeoned to death

at a picnic site
ten miles from here.

And her husband, Simon Marshall,

claimed that she was killed
by a stranger

who beat her with an oar,

and then cut off her finger
with a hunting knife.

Her husband's banged up at
Her Majesty's pleasure as we speak.

Hello, boys.

♪ Why was she born so beautiful?

♪ Why was she born at all? ♪

Well done today, guys.
It's a great team effort.

OK. Good work.

Jack! Didn't think
you'd be able to make it.

Congratulations. Well, team effort.

Let me buy you a drink.

Very good.

I'll have a sparkling water, please.
Not celebrating?

I don't drink. Oh.

Is that what the SOCO was alluding
to? The one you sent packing?

Mind your own bloody business.
Understood.

You OK after your tumble?

The broken shelf.
Yeah. Fine. Thank you.

It's weird. I was processing
the room next door
and I never heard a thing.

Nice one, Kate.

Jack, this is my father, DCC Tony
Warren. Dad, this is Jack...

Hodgson.

Genius forensic scientist, without
whom we wouldn't be here tonight.

Pleased to meet you.

I'm currently resurrecting the
National Crime Squad for my sins.

We're setting up a bespoke NCS
forensics unit. Just off the A40.

To be honest, I've just
started a new job and...

Give my office and call tomorrow
and we'll set something up.

With respect, I don't want to waste
anybody's time. Relax. I'm talking
about a cup of coffee and a chat.

Great.

Now, if you'll excuse us, Jack.

I, um, left my torch inside.

Cheers.

Morning. Dr Alexander.

Thank you.

I'm afraid I can't really explain
my interest in your case.

There can be no quid pro quo
of information.

But you have nothing to lose
and possibly something to gain.

April the 5th, 2009.

Why don't you start
at the beginning?

It was a beautiful day,

and I was making amends
for some very ugly things.

I suggested a trip to Palmer's Lake.

It was Eleanor's favourite place
in the whole world.

Or at least in north Kent.

She seemed happy, she really did.

And when she dozed off, I...

I saw it as a sign
that she still trusted me.

Watching her sleep, I...

I felt overwhelmed
with love for her.

And I promised myself
this was a new start.

That I'd never hurt her again.

What do you think you're doing, mate?

Shit, my bag!

Hey, come on.

Put the oar down.

Send your wife over.

What?

You heard me.
Send your wife over or you both die.

No.

No way, mate.

I just want to talk to her.

He just wants to talk to you.

Sit down.

Sit down!

Get back in the boat.

Simon. Get back in the boat!

Please, don't hurt me.
Please! Please don't hurt me.

Please!

Please don't hurt me.

Please don't hurt me.

Please!

Please!

Big man that I was,

I did nothing to save her.

Ellie...

But somebody did this...

and he's still out there.

Hi.

How'd it go with Marshall?

Honestly? I think his wife
and Joanne Henderson

were killed by the same person,
I just can't prove it.

Yet.

Yet.

The broken branch
is from an oak tree,

and the green sapwood
suggests it's freshly severed.

Maybe kicked there in the struggle?

It's like it just landed there.

Marshall told you the biker
fired in the air,

but no shotgun pellets or cartridges
were ever recovered from the scene.

You think that the pellets severed
the branch, and lodged in the tree?

Got to be worth taking a look,
hasn't it? Yup.

So, if Eleanor's body was
found here...

then the picnic blanket
would have been there...

I definitely think that
this is the oak tree

that the stray branch came from.

Jack? Huh?

Sorry, I was miles away. What?

Look, I don't mind climbing
a ladder. No, no, no, I've got it.

What is it?

Just a spot of vertigo.

Not seeing anything.

Well, if the biker was standing
here, facing out towards the lake...

and he fired the gun upwards...

You're doing well for a man
with vertigo.

God bless Clarissa.

Shot?

No.

Cartridge wadding.

The tree bark insulated
the wadding pretty well.

A perfect print,

left in gun oil by whoever
assembled the gun cartridge.

It links to a third murder case.

The fingerprint belongs to
a farmer called Derek MacNeil,

who died in a car accident
on Christmas Eve 1993.

And why do we have MacNeil's
prints on file?

Purposes of elimination.

A break-in at his farm in which
a shotgun was stolen.

But you said that the prints
are linked to a murder?! Yeah.

A year after MacNeil died,
his daughter, Imogen,

was murdered by her husband,
PC Alan Lane.

PC? Lane was a copper.
He got life, but he's out now.

The investigating officer,
Anne Percival,

must've made a hell of a case.

She never found Imogen's body,
just some bloody clothes and...

a severed fingertip.

And DNA confirmed that this was
Imogen's finger and blood?

And DI Percival
found more of Imogen's blood

in the boot of Lane's car
AND on a shovel in his garage.

So, we're thinking
if the severed fingertip

is some kind of signature...

we could be dealing with a killer
targeting unrelated women.

Common factor is that he uses
forensic misdirection

to frame the husbands.

Well, if that's true,

it suggests that Alan Lane was
another victim, and not the killer.

We need to talk to Imogen's mum
about the missing shotgun...

and Alan Lane.

Hello. So sorry to trouble you.

My name's Dr Alexander,
this is Professor Leo Dalton.

Could we... come in
and have a word, please?

Yes.

Imogen and her dad were close.

Every June they'd take off for
Wales, leave me behind...

I didn't mind too much.
I can't swim.

Edith, when your husband's
shotgun was stolen,

was any ammunition taken?

Yeah, a few boxes, I think.

And did Derek have any suspicions
as to who'd taken it?

Alan.

Our son-in-law.

I told Derek he was being
ridiculous.

I still thought of Alan as
a strange, but basically decent man.

When did you change
your opinion about that?

When they pulled my husband's
body out of his car.

He'd been saying for weeks that Alan
was going to kill him...

make it look like an accident.

How did your daughter
meet Alan Lane?

She ran away,
and he brought her home.

You didn't know him before? No.

No, he was just a friendly
policeman.

Thank you for bringing her home.

We didn't think it odd
when he started dropping in.

Even when he asked Imogen
out on a date...

he wrote to us,
to get our permission.

< Come on in. Come on.

'He was very proper.'

Um... I b-brought you some flowers.
Thank you.

'We had no idea who we were letting
into our lives.'

A month after my husband's funeral,

Alan announced that he and Imogen

were moving into the farm
to look after me.

Except, a week after that...

he suggested I move
to the village.

Be easier for me,
being nearer the shops.

So, why do you think
he really wanted you gone?

He couldn't stand
sharing my daughter.

It's still your house, Mum.
You can move back any time.

I'll be fine.

I'll be over first thing to help you
unpack. Don't worry!

'Every instinct was telling me
not to leave her alone with him.'

That man killed my husband...

and my daughter...

and his "life sentence"
was eight...

measly years.

Do you know where Alan Lane is now?

I...

I see Anne Percival sometimes.

She's retired from
the police force now.

I think she said he sells hiking
equipment from the back of a van.

Sorry. I'm so sorry.

Hello?

Dr Alexander, it's DI Warren.
Where are you?

Excuse me?

'Emma Henderson wants to visit her
dad in prison, and she needs to...'

be accompanied by an adult.
She's requested you.

Excuse me. Oh...
Have you paid for that?

No, I'm so sorry.
It was a mistake. I, um...

A mistake? Yeah, I thought
I saw someone I knew.

OK, if you wouldn't mind going back
to the till and paying, please.

I'm... I'm just going to
leave it there.

All right. OK.

Ah! How was Stratford?

All right. Yeah?
All Shakespeare-d out?

Only saw two plays.

One and a half, actually.

Fancied a few beers, didn't I?

Good job I know you're joking.

Well, I knew I'd be bored.
I didn't want to go.

Hey, consider yourself lucky.

In my day, a school outing was
a trip to the kids' section
of the local library.

How was YOUR trip, Mum?

I didn't go anywhere.

Did you lend the car
to someone, then?

No. No?

That's funny, cos there's 200 miles
on the clock since yesterday.

Karen...

What exactly...? Don't, Mum.

I know exactly where you've been.

Pretty well stocked,
aren't you, mate?

Ever since I can remember,

we've gone to Kent
for our Easter holidays.

When I was small, it was
that campsite near the motorway...

then it was that B&B...

with the fish pond...

but then the man at the B&B

started asking too many questions,
didn't he?

And then I started asking
too many questions... Karen!

That's why you made me go on
that school trip. No!

Yes.

Nothing to do with Shakespeare.

You just wanted me gone,
so you could go on this pilgrimage.

Is that the best you can do?
Ignore me?

Mum, I just want to know why.

Why are we different?

It's always the same street.

And the same house.

And you'd say that we were stopping

cos you needed to
take a break, or...

to check the map. But it would
always be the same street.

The same house.

The old lady with the statue
in the garden...

There was a boy
with a tray on his head.

What is it?

What is it, Mum?

Is Sally home?

Yeah, as far as I know.

I want you to stay with
her tonight. Why?!

Because I have to go somewhere.
Where?

You've been so patient for so long.

Just one more day,
that's all I'm asking.

OK.

Thank you.

Why would an able detective suppress
evidence of forced entry?

Can I help you, young lady?

Sorry... I'm just looking
for my mum.

Imogen Lane's severed fingertip,

amputated at the interphalangeal
joint...

We can't stay here another second.

We have to go.

You've charged Roly Henderson.

What are you doing arresting
this guy?

This is your chance to prove
all your doubters wrong.

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