Original subtitles

Bogart at the end of "Casablanca".

His motive's still pure.

Jimmy Cagney at the end of "Angels with Dirty Faces".

Come on! Pat O'Brien asks him to scream, he says...

.."Don't take away the only thing I have left."

He screams because he's frightened.

No, no. No. He wants them to think he's frightened.

So they don't follow his example.

He's a Catholic.

He does what the priest asks. It's his last chance.

Impure motive. He does it to save his skin.

My all-time favourite movie and you've ruined it.

Aaah!

It's Julie.

You in bed?

Tim's there, isn't he?

Has he left?

He said he was going to yours yesterday. He never got there.

I'll phone you back.

He'll be all right.

Police.

If Cagney's in hell, he's watching British movies.

(MIMICS) You dirty rat. "Room with a View" again! Where's Eddie G? Where's Bogart?

Sleep in our bed tonight, Fitz.

Please.

Evens spades, six to four hearts, five to one clubs and diamonds. Any more?

Yeah. Six hundred to four, hearts.

Diamonds win.

No. A mistake.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Nine. Hearts win.

I'm sorry.

You owe me a grand.

Ooh!

Oh, Jesus Christ!

SCREAM

SCREAM OF TERROR

He didn't take a coat...

he had no money.

His dad's less than a mile away and he never got there.

He hasn't been seen since last night.

Tim! Tim!

Tim!

Tim!

Tim!

'Tim!'

You didn't think of ringing to see he'd arrived?

Can you remember what he was wearing?

Trainers, black denims, long-sleeved T-shirt.

DOORBELL

Last thing I said to him, actually. "You're not going out in that. Put your coat on."

Police?

Yeah. Any news?

It's my husband.

I don't live here. We're separated.

I'm DCI Bilborough. This is DS Penhaligon.

A DCI?

Oh, Jesus.

They think he's dead.

Sir! Sir!

Mrs Lang, what size shoe did he take?

"Did" he take?

Does he take.

Seven.

Seven.

(Slip of the tongue.)

(Thanks for being so understanding (!) )

Yeah ?

Right.

They've found a seven.

I'll tell them.

It means nothin', Andy. It means nothin'!

There could be a perfectly innocent explanation for this, Mrs Lang.

(Get Fitz.)

(No coat, we've found his shoe. (We don't know he's dead.) Do you think he's alive ?)

It speaks volumes about a person, how they suck a sherbet lemon.

Me, I'm a cruncher. An explosion of sherbet. Instant gratification.

Judith is a roller. Rolls 'em for ages. Noisily.

She got more pleasure from making other kids jealous than from the sweet.

You're probably a sucker.

Am I right? I think you like to make it last.

Yeah...

I bet you could suck that sherbet lemon wafer-thin before you got a hint of sherbet.

Thus indicating a massive guilt complex.

Stay in the car, Jane.

Find out why they're separated, why they didn't report it for 24 hours.

Looks like the kid's dead, but don't tell 'em that, OK?

Did you choose Tim's trainers?

He chose them.

Does he have any friends?

Of course he's got friends!

Would you wear these?

Wouldn't be seen dead in 'em.

Your mates would give you stick?

Yeah. Tim hasn't got mates. Greg Stephens. Greg Stephens is a mental retard.

Did you have a row with Tim recently?

Not recently, no.

Why didn't you phone when he didn't arrive?

I'm sorry.

Did you have a row with Tim recently?

He hasn't run away. He left his books. Poetry - a load of crap.

If he was running away he'd have took them with him.

Mmm.

Would you mind if I had a look round his room?

This is my room.

Yeah. Reminds me of my son.

The unmistakeable whiff of smelly feet.

At Christmas, he doesn't hang his sock up, he just stands it up.

Finished?

Yeah.

False alarm.

Oh, Jesus!

Thank you.

I'm sorry. Hey, hey. I'm sorry.

(I'm sorry, I'm sorry.)

You keep your mother out of your room?

But Tim lets her in here?

Yeah.

Hmmph!

At his age, I was into Biggles!

Who's his English teacher?

You think he's dead?

In confidence?

Yeah. We fear the worst.

Saves me doing it to the kids.

The art of teaching today: just keeping your hands off the little bastards.

How's his mother handling it?

She fears the worst too.

Do you know Tim well?

Hardly know him at all.

Bit of a loner. Bit effeminate. Gets picked on.

D'you live alone?

At the moment, yeah.

I'm thinking about getting married.

To somebody on the staff?

Yeah.

If you're watching this, Tim,... please phone.

Whatever it is, whatever you're running away from,...

we can sort it out.

If somebody's holding Tim,...

..if anybody watching is holding Tim,...

"If anybody watching this is holding Tim,..."

..if anybody's...

holding Tim... I'm sorry.

"If anybody has information...

"..contact your local police station..."

It's really important you tell me.

Come on, boys.

Could you show us?

"No. I'm married. The man I was with is married."

Yeah?

She's ringing from home.

DOORBELL

Police.

DOG BARKING

(SHE SOBS)

I'll tell them.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

You've found him?

Shall we go in there?

Mr Lang?

I'm afraid it's very bad news.

He's dead.

I'm so sorry.

How?

He was found hanging.

He didn't kill himself.

My son -

It's early days yet. ..did not kill himself.

My son did not kill himself.

It's very early days yet.

I'm sorry.

It's all right.

It's not. Will you stop patronising me?

Right. I thought you were a gobshite in there, sir.

Withholding his name is a criminal offence.

What's his name?

He's got a wife and three kids.

What's his name?

Did you have sex?

Mrs Perry, we've got Forensic at the scene. If they find anything,...

they'll want to know if he left it.

You understand how important that is?

Did you have sex?

No.

So, what's his name?

I'm not going to tell you his name.

Little Red bleedin' Riding Hood.

Let me handle it.

Every bloody thing.

His kids are alive. This is the death of a child.

You have the cheek to waste our time!

I want her banged up. Yes.

Bang her up and throw away the key.

Wasting our time, withholding evidence!

Francis Bates, 81 Greenside Park.

Did you get hold of Path?

He's at a fancy dress party.

Francis Bates -

I heard. Pick him up, then get Fitz. I want him with us.

Boss!

No offence, right?

Right.

It's getting so we can't shit without Fitz.

From the bank.

(Oh, God!)

His grammar is atrocious.

Your economics is worse.

I know people who owe more than this.

We have bigger problems than that.

Celery has less calories than you use to eat it.

Such as our marriage. I want to solve those problems. You don't.

You like crisis. Gives an excuse to drink and gamble.

No crisis, no excuse.

Bullshit.

Bullshit as in "I can't think of an answer right now, so I'll just pretend it's all beneath me"?

Ten minutes.

Hello! Ten minutes.

Right.

Right.

I'll have to lay it on the line.

That puts you in a powerful position.

I was wrong, so I must suffer in silence. No.

I don't want half a relationship. I want us to sleep together. I want sex.

I like sex, for God's sake.

Yeah, we know that.

Naughty, Fitz! You're supposed to be mature.

Should talk this through rationally.

Well, I'm not rational.

I'm blazing. I'd like to cut that bastard's balls off!

Glass of wine, dear?

(Shit!)

I can give you ten minutes.

Look, I'm a psychologist. I can help

This way.

How was Moscow?

You've dragged me down here for this?

What's this?

And this?

Caused by?

Bruises to the front and sides of the throat.

Strangled, left face down, then strung up.

Dead about 72 hours.

And you're a DCI?

You can get along to your party now.

What are you going as?

A man jogging, that's all.

Your girlfriend didn't mention a jogger.

Can you describe him?

Thirty-odd, average height. It was dark.

Nothing else?

Tracksuit top with a hood.

"I got back into the car, we started to mess around."

"She took off. I chased her for a bit."

Chased her?

She likes that kind of thing.

What kind of thing?

Rough.

We were just about to... start, when we saw it.

A 13-year-old boy.

We just ran.

I'm married. I've got kids.

You left his parents to wait for 12 hours.

You wouldn't have phoned at all.

Your missus finding out means more than a child's death.

What kind of a man are you?!

"Hey, hey. Hey!"

Didn't that enter your head? You could have saved him!

We've got what we want. It's human nature.

If a child's in trouble, you don't go away from him, you go to him! Human bloody nature!

If you don't do that, you're some kind of animal.

We were there. We were there! Waiting with them. You tosspot! You prick ! You bloody animal!

Twelve bloody hours and then they told.

You prick ! You...

We do nothing till the post mortem.

Then say it's murder, put the family on TV -

Can I speak to them first? I'm talking.

Appeal for this jogger. Meanwhile, talk to every kid in the school.

What do you think?

They've been through enough.

They like going on the telly!

It's a comfort for them.

Seeing themselves on telly!

Could I speak to you a minute?

Shut it.

Don't ever do that again.

Don't ever hint my life's interfering with my work. I've seen you in tears...

..and I didn't say it. How dare you say it to me !

I am sorry.

I'll ring her in a minute, see how she's doing.

Right.

We're not sleeping, that's why...

She's a week overdue. Her blood pressure's up and down.

They wanted to take her in and induce it, but she wanted it natural

"Natural" means up every half hour for a piss, every hour for cramp.

I said, "Take me in. She's only having a baby. I'm having kittens."

Have you got a minute, Andy?

Well, what do you want, Andy?

Andy!

What are you doing, bursting into my classroom?

Come here!

SHOUTING

Get him off!

What do you think you're doing?

What good can that possibly do?! Now, calm down.

All right?

You knew what was going on. You did nothing!

It's down to you, Cassidy. You and every teacher in this shithole.

He trusted you, told you everything. You never lifted a finger.

You want the truth?

You'll despise the truth.

You would have preferred it to have been suicide?

He were always a victim.

Murder, he's a victim to the end.

Suicide, well, that's some sort of choice he's made.

Some sort of courage he's shown.

I didn't hope, I didn't pray. I knew.

I knew it wouldn't be suicide.

Because suicide's a bomb under the kitchen table, everyone cut to pieces.

He wouldn't do that to you.

He loved me.

Have you got a son?

Eighteen years old. Not eighteen sons!

You'll know, then.

Your son's born,...

..one day you'll watch him play football for t'school,...

take him to Old Trafford,...

..buy him his first pint.

Not Andy.

Anything I wanted, he did the opposite.

But that were OK,...

cos Tim were born.

I'd do it all wi' Tim.

Tim turned out to be a girl.

Guilt.

They told me it was murder.

I felt relieved.

The blame lay somewhere else. I didn't think about Tim, what he went through.

I do now, but,...

then, when they told me,...

..the moment they told me,...

I didn't think about his pain and his fear.

I just felt relief.

Guilt?

I wanted a crisis.

We rowed over Tim, we separated over Tim.

Just give me a nice little crisis, I thought,...

and I'll go back and sort everything out and everything'll be OK.

Together again.

Well, I've got my crisis.

There's always guilt.

I've seen dozens of parents who've lost children.

All blameless. All felt guilt.

If only we'd said this, if only we'd done that.

If only you'd made Tim wear his coat and delayed him by two minutes. By two seconds!

He'd never have been at that place at that time, never have met his killer.

May I read you something?

It's a father talking.

"She was young, vulnerable. Pictures used to flash before my eyes - my daughter lying dead in a ditch.

"I told myself all fathers thought that way. All fathers saw these pictures.

"But then it happened. It's as if I willed it to happen.

"I saw those pictures in my mind and willed it to happen."

You know just what he means, don't you?

Well, guilt soon goes.

Grief remains.

But grief is your friend.

It lets you mourn, remember, cry.

PHONE RINGS

If you want my autograph, you can form a line.

Is this the brother of the victim? Yeah. Right. Thanks.

What's your name, son?

Tom Rope.

And your address?

Come here!

I want a word with the little bastard!

Put him in a cell! Number three.

Shithead!

Yeah?

I'll put you in with Andy! Just the two of you!

You picked on Tim for years. Show his brother how it's done.

MUFFLED SHOUT

Shut up. Shut up!

You're a big bully, aren't you?

Yeah.

I give this heavy weight from off my head...

..and this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,...

..the pride of kingly sway from out my heart;...

..with mine own tears, I wash away my balm.

With mine own hands I give away my crown,...

..with mine own tongue..."

PNEUMATIC DRILLING

DRILLING

Oh!

Oh!

GAS HISSING

(MOANS)

(WAILS)

HISSING STOPS

In the car.

JOURNALISTS SHOUT

Why did you go for those boys?

I've already told him.

Tim asked for help. You didn't give him any.

Now he's dead, you feel guilty.

No.

Why didn't you do something?

It's their fault! It was...

It's not my responsibility!

Lie. Piss off! Excuse me.

I've just left your mother.

If you'd helped Tim, you might have saved her some pain.

Her broken heart, all that grief.

I should have stuck up for Tim against me own mates?

Yes. Well, that's bollocks! All right?

WHISPERS INAUDIBLY

Yeah?

Tell me about Mr Cassidy.

This morning, with Mr and Mrs Lang.

Yeah?

I thought you were brilliant.

You should hear my pillow talk.

You OK?

No. I'm afraid of heights.

A lie. Nobody's afraid of heights, they're afraid of themselves.

If I survive, may I take you out and make a pathetic attempt to seduce you?

Stay away from me.

I'd sooner jump in my own time, so please stay away.

OK.

Forty or fifty feet's enough, you know.

Why so high?

Too much time to think.

Might change your mind half way down.

We laugh cos lemmings throw themselves off cliffs,...

but I suspect they'll have the last laugh.

Because, one day,...

What's your first name, by the way?

One day, Nigel, a lemming will fly.

Tim Lang didn't kill himself, by the way. He was murdered.

Pigeons did it, millions of years ago.

Threw themselves off cliffs. Millions of pigeons over thousands of years.

Thudding, dead, to the ground.

One day, a pigeon flapped and didn't hit the ground quite so hard.

And then, the day after that,...

one of them flew.

Because it followed its instincts, Nigel.

Man's suppressed that instinct, which is why man will never fly, Nigel.

Come on, let's do it!

Let's follow our instincts. Let's fly. Come with me.

Top of the world, ma!

Christ's sake! For Christ's sake.

You asked about his mother.

His mother, not his parents.

Well, his parents have split up.

How did you know that?

Did you know all the kids' family backgrounds that well?

So you knew Tim well?

Yeah.

Yeah. So why did you lie to me ? Huh?

I found a book of Wilfred Owen in Tim's room.

Did you give that to him?

Um, I might have done.

You give a book of poetry to a 13-year-old boy. You would remember that.

Look,...

I did a stupid thing. I'm sorry. I'm a bit depressed.

Charge me if you like, but I won't answer questions about Tim.

Charge you with what? Anything. Trespass, wasting time.

Murder?

You like to keep fit.

Stops you taking it out on the kids.

Do you jog?

Yes. Were you jogging three nights ago?

Um...

Where were you?

My girlfriend... she was with me.

Do you believe him? No. She thinks you killed Tim.

I didn't.

Mm-hmm.

I asked if you lived alone. D'you remember that?

"But I'm thinking of getting married."

Yeah, but why articulate it?

Unless you think something's implied by living alone?

Such as?

..not, "I was at home with Jo or Lesley".

What is your girlfriend's name, by the way?

Lesley.

You wouldn't say Lesley, because Lesley could be a man.

That's the last thing you want anyone to think.

Ah! Supersleuth.

This man can do a Sun crossword in under three days.

I'd like you to come to the station.

We'll bring him in. The boss said - No. WE'LL bring him in.

You're gonna wish you'd jumped.

ANGRY SHOUTS

I think that's understandable,...

wanting to know what the police are doing.

I can understand, but I'd like you all to go home.

We pay your wages! Our kids play in the woods. We want to know what you're doing about it!

Do that again, I'll have you arrested.

The press know more than me! My son's been killed! That's not right.

Just let me through, all right?

All right, all right!

We've picked up a shirtlifter.

Where is he?

We're bringing him in. Great!

CROWD STARTS SHOUTING

TOOTS HORN

(Jesus Christ.)

Escort three to control. Request urgent assistance.

We're outside, surrounded by a hostile crowd.

Repeat, urgent assistance!

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