All language subtitles for A Touch of Frost - 1x01 - Care and Protection.en

I said to meet Tracy.

Oh, yes.

Right.

I'm not sure about next week.

I think it'll be alright, but I'm not
sure.

You'll phone me then, will you?

Thank you.

Oh, sorry. I thought I'd just get rid of
some of this lousy paperwork. The next

minute it's half six.

Have I messed you up?

No, no, I'm fine.

You sure?

Don't worry about it.

Is everything okay?

Yeah, it's been a good day, actually.
Very peaceful.

Yeah. It's paperwork. I love it.

Wait.

Oh.

I was going to do some pink and towels
and stuff, but then a few isn't working.

Oh, right.

I meant to phone the bloke yesterday.
Thanks for reminding me. I'll do it tomorrow.

Anyway, I did a couple of things by hand.

I'll probably sit in a giant sweater.

What is no need for you?

No, I'm here. I might as well make myself
useful.

Wow.

I've left everything ready for you and
any problems, same as usual.

And if you like that thing, it's another
50p only.

See you in the morning.

Which is the most recent, would you say?

Um, this one.

It's from the school.

You know, the photograph they do every
year.

I mean, this one makes her look nicer.

You know, her hair and everything.

She's got really nice hair, but...

Yeah, thanks.

Right, Mrs Uphill, we've got all we need,
thank you.

We'll start things rolling and you stay
by your phone.

So as soon as we find her, we'll let you
know.

And, of course, if she does come back
here, you'll let us know, won't you?

We'll see how it serves her, all right.

Morning.

Morning.

Is the Duty Sergeant around?

Just having breakfast, sir.

Will you come up and see me?

Ah, Sergeant Weld.

Come in.

Any news on the girl?

No, sir.

It's been 16 hours.

That's too long.

It's far too long.

Well, it's been 16 hours of darkness, sir.

We need daylight.

Hmm.

Is Detective Inspector Frost in the
briefing room?

No, sir, he hasn't arrived yet.

He doesn't know about the briefing, does
he?

I imagine so, yes, sir.

What do you mean you imagine, sir?

Either he does or he doesn't.

Yes, sir, he has been informed.

It might be something to do with his wife,
sir.

Yes.

Sorry, I'm really sorry.

Traffic was all over the place.

It's all right.

Yeah, thank you.

Woke up twice, that's all.

All right.

Thanks, I'll give you a call.

Well, I won't keep you long.

We're not short of help, for which I
think all concern.

But what we are short of is daylight.

We've got woodlands, lakes, a canal,
gravel pits, derelict houses, builder's sites,

you name it. A thousand and one places
where a child could be concealed. So we

shall need to be methodical, not
haphazard.

Which is why I've put Detective Chief
Inspector Allen in charge of the operation.

And as he's in charge, I shall now be
quiet and let him take over.

Right. Time is of the essence, sir. I'll
be brief.

Well, any time you like.

And if you could bring a spare set of
keys.

I'll be with you shortly, sir.

No problem at all, Mrs. Palmer.

That's right. Any time that's convenient.

Thank you.

Sorry about that, sir. How may I help you?

Mr. Sergeant, I'm Barnard.

Detective Constable Clive Barnard.

I need to report to Superintendent Mullet
at nine o'clock.

Right. D.C. Barnard.

The Chief Constable's nephew.

That's right, Sergeant.

Chief Constable's nephew.

Well, Superintendent Mullet is occupied
with him, isn't he?

I'll let you know when he's available.

Nice suit he's wearing.

Very stylish.

Is that a measure, isn't it?

What's Mullet doing here at this hour?

There was a briefing about the missing
child.

You were informed about it last night.

It's quite cold.

He wants to see you, Jack, as soon as
I've had a cup of tea.

He said as soon as you arrive.

Well, I haven't arrived yet, so I'm
alright.

I've been reviewing your file.

That's impressive.

I see you're studying law.

Couldn't be better.

It certainly has served me well, hasn't
it?

If I can assist you in any way, or lend
you some books…

They're all here, as you can see.

Thank you, sir.

I would appreciate that.

Thank you.

Good.

I'm looking forward to working with Mr.
Allen.

I've heard very good things about him.

Yes, well, there's been a slight change
of plan, I'm afraid.

Chief Inspector Allen is in charge of our
missing girl inquiry.

Well, you wouldn't know about it, of
course.

He came in last night.

As you can imagine, he's up to his eyes
at the moment, so as a purely temporary

arrangement, I do stress it is temporary,
I'm putting you with Detective Inspector

Frost.

Now, I know you'll find him a very
experienced officer.

Not as punctilious as Chief Inspector
Allen, perhaps, but, as I say, very

experienced in his own way, and I might
say that your uncle has a very high opinion

of him.

Very high indeed.

He being our local hero, so to speak.

You see much of him, do you?

Your uncle?

Sorry about the repeat.

Ah, you know what's going on here?

Yeah, George Phil Meere.

It's not good.

Should have found her by now.

Go and have a word with the mother, will
you?

Here's their report from last night.

And Jack, when you've seen her, put it in
writing, aren't you?

Paperwork, right?

I'm asked to listen to it.

In writing.

Your stomach's still bothering you, isn't
it?

Oh, damn it.

Well, I'm taking my trip.

Avoid fatty foods.

That's right, Jack.

No.

How are things at home?

Not good.

Take some leave.

Go on, why don't you?

All right, Jim.

You just sit there and stare at her all
day, and you do enough of that as it is.

The truth is, I can't handle it.

As long as I know she's okay.

What's in town?

What's in town?

Hello.

Who are you?

D.C. Barnard.

I was told to report to Detective
Inspector Frost.

All right.

What?

To work with her.

Well, you can start by answering that
phone then, can't you?

Go on.

Detective Inspector Frost's office, D.C.
Barnard speaking.

Yes, sir.

Yes, he is.

Right, sir.

Right, here.

He wants to see you.

Straight away, he said.

Sorry.

A word of advice, son.

Well, two words.

One, never tell Mr Mullet that I'm in the
office.

Two, never wear a suit that you wouldn't
be happy letting a drunk be sick over.

Come in.

Thank you.

Thank you.

You wanted to see me, sir?

You weren't at the briefing. Why was that?

No, I was unavoidably detained, sir.

Ah. I see.

My car wouldn't start.

I've had yet another complaint from HQ.

mun

Oh, really, sir? What's it about this
time?

Yet again, you're late with the monthly
crime figures.

Funnily enough, I was working on those
last night.

Get them sent over straight away.

Oh, I would, sir, but unfortunately I've
left them on the kitchen table.

Have it done this morning?

Ah. Yes, well, this morning I thought
that you'd prefer me to try and help find

this little girl who's...

Don't...

Don't push it too far, Jack.

Chief Constable's blue-eyed boy or not.

But don't push it too far.

No, sir.

What's your name, sir?

Right.

Ooh, Clive, is it?

Right, well, you drive, Clive.

Go on.

Half past three, you say?

Sorry?

You told the officers last night that you
meet at half past three.

Yeah, I mean, that's usual.

This week something happened and I was
late.

I went everywhere I could think.

I phoned all her friends and everything.

What about her father?

He doesn't even know I had her.

Oh, so you've brought her up on your own
then?

I just have to get on with it, don't you?

Anyway, she's mine. I love her.

So it's not really Mrs uphill, that's
just for the neighbours, like the ring.

Just easier, that's all.

Well then, Linda, if we could just have a
quick look around her room, just a quick

look around, I promise we won't make a
mess.

All right, Linda, love?

Now, you know, I could swear that we've
met somewhere.

We have.

Just can't place it.

Come on, don't know anything about it.

We haven't got a whole day.

Where would you like me to start?

Why don't you take a look in the kid's
room?

Only don't let me catch you playing with
her toys.

That's a good boy.

Guff.

You can't really believe she's here,
surely.

I can believe anything, Constable.

And one day, so will you, if you last
that long.

No, there's nothing there.

Darkroom?

You had much trouble getting that off,
did you?

When did we first start using the word
condom?

When did we what go?

Well, in my day, it was contraceptive.

A johnny.

Buy me and stop one.

Suddenly it's a condom.

Funny, isn't it?

What are you doing?

Just a few more questions, Linda Love.

It's all right.

You think she's dead, don't you?

You think I killed her?

Sit down, Linda Love, please.

My God, you do, don't you?

You think I killed her?

Truth is, no, I don't.

But these things have to be done.

You see, the thing is, Linda, people do
kill their kids.

Nice people, loving people, with
beautiful kids, and they kill them.

It's all right.

Why were you late?

I mean, you said you were late meeting
her.

I was just late.

I wonder why she didn't come back here.

I mean, you would have thought she would
have come back here.

Unless, of course, you'd had a row or
something.

Was that what it was, Linda? Had you had
a row?

No.

There was someone here.

Someone? What someone?

Just someone.

Friend. You mean a friend?

Yes.

Girlfriend?

No.

Not a girlfriend.

Oh, you had a man here.

There's no crime in that.

What was his name, this man?

I don't know.

How many are there, Linda?

Men whose names you don't know.

Some.

Not many.

Regulars?

If you like.

And he's your Sunday man.

Which is why you want her out of the
house and why you tell her not to come back

until you go and fetch her.

But this week, something happened.

He was late.

Usually he's here at two o'clock and gone
within the hour, so I've got plenty of

time.

But yesterday's train was late.

Canceled or something.

His name's Farnham.

Farnham, something like that.

He's a teacher over at Cranford.

I'm not a slag, you know, whatever you're
thinking.

I am not a slag.

Is there anyone who can stay with you?

A relative or someone?

No.

Thank you.

I've remembered where it was.

You're on the checkout at the supermarket
where I do my shopping.

Part-time.

That was all they could give me.

How do you live with the knowledge that
your kid might be dead?

And how do you live on?

I don't know, son, you just do.

I'll give her a wide berth, by the way.

Get with them poor people, eat your wing
mirror.

Who's that?

That's old Annie.

Annie Stephanopoulos, Annie the cat lady.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah, she goes everywhere on that old
bike of hers, looking after stray cats.

She feeds and nurses them.

Takes them down to the vets and has their
wotsits chopped off.

Oh, yeah, they put you with old Jack,
then?

How are you making out?

Yeah, yeah, he's okay.

You can say goodbye to your sex life, I
can tell you that much.

D.I. Frost has a reputation for keeping
long hours.

P.W. Wallace, D.C. Barnard, Clive.

Hi.

Chief Chancellor's his uncle.

Every one of you.

Up and down, all over.

Wash your hands.

Sergeant Johnson says to tell you they've
checked the local weirdos, and the only

one they can't lay their hands on so far
is Michael Hoskins.

Sick Mick. Who'd want to lay hands on him?

Well, apparently he hasn't been home all
night.

Bill, his mum will be pleased to give her
a chance to change the sheet.

What is this?

Beef.

Beef?

Talk about rare. It's still moving.

Come.

Bit of luck with a bloke, Gov.

Barry James Farnham lives at Leffington,
teaches English at Grandpa Dye.

Thanks.

Sir Barnum.

Sorry to trouble you, sir.

You're from Denton CID.

Detective Inspector Frost, D.C. Barnard.

Just a quick word, if that's all right,
sir.

Might I see your identification?

Absolutely, sir. Quite right, sir.

Constable, show the gentleman your
warrant card.

What's it all about?

Can't be my car. I don't drive one.

No, just a few questions, sir.

Why couldn't you wait until I got home?

Because we were told that you were here.

And because the nature of our inquiries
means that we can't waste time with

formalities.

All right, sir.

Do you know a woman called Linda Uphill,
Mr. Barnum?

17 Selston Avenue, Denton.

No.

Well, we understand you have a business
arrangement with her.

I'm sorry, you must be mistaken.

She says that you were with her yesterday
afternoon.

Now, in view of what you're saying, she
must be lying.

So if you come back...

with us. I'm sure we can get it sorted
out. Off we go, then. All right. Yes, I do

know her. What's happened to her? Why
should anything have happened to her, sir?

Well, women in her... women in her
position. Women in her position? Very nicely put,

Mr. Vaughan. It's not her, it's her
daughter, Tracy. Do you know her, then? No,

but Linda talks about her. She's very
proud of her. And she's very worried about

her, sir. You see, the kid's gone missing.
Now, you left Mrs. Uphill at half three.

Is that right, sir? Yes.

Usually it's earlier, but... You didn't
see the child at all? No. No, why should I?

Linda is always very careful to keep her
family life quite separate from... You

left the house and you went straight to
the station. No, I... I had to visit my

aunt. I go there every Sunday for tea.

after I've...

She lives in the Senior Citizens'
Bungalows on the Southern Housing Estate.

Your Sundays are one long round of
pleasure, aren't they, sir?

First a spot of naughties at Shea Linda,
then tea with your auntie.

No wonder your skin's in such good
condition.

The address.

Now, look, you won't go round worrying
her.

She's an old lady and her heart's not too
good.

I specialise in old ladies with weak
hearts.

Have no fear.

How are they doing? Keeping up to scratch,
are they?

Yes, they're...

They're rather good this year.

Must have a good teacher, then, eh?

I try.

Worth its weight in gold.

A good teacher.

Huh?

It's getting quite dark now, Governor.

What do you think?

Yeah, that's right.

Get them on the phone.

Okay, Sergeant, that's enough!

It's a perforated ulcer.

He'll be out for at least a month.

So, um...

Over to you.

I'll handle the PR, the TV crews, and so
on.

Now that you're in charge, I don't expect
you to be doing house searches yourself.

I want you here, running the operation.

Filling out the forms?

Completing the necessary paperwork.

And make sure they're careful with
overtime.

Not with a helicopter and all that. I'm
already over budget.

I'll try to keep them from taking
advantage of me, sir.

Now, advantage is only taken when it's
allowed to be taken.

You can tell them that I shall personally
be checking the figures.

Yes, sir.

All right.

Thank you. That's enough of the old moody.

If you think you're going to get it any
easier, you're mistaken.

Give us a kiss, then.

Oi.

Sorry, go.

Okay, fill me in.

How much should we cover?

Thank you.

The blue circles, what sightings have we
had? 15, but only one of them sounds

promising.

It's a bloke in a car. He's pretty
certain he saw her walking away from St Mark's

with a man and a woman. Now the woman was
wearing a white fur coat, a bit flashy –

that's what made him notice. I haven't
been to that club. The kids first, it

doesn't open until seven. Girl, what
about sick me?

No, girl, we'll try the public library.
It's nice and warm in there. He's trying to

educate himself. He's trying to educate
himself.

All right, all right, all right.

That's too weird, you owe me.

Hey, no, come on, a pound, we said.

A pound for the game, a pound for the
information.

All right, I'll tell you what I'll do.

Come on, double or nothing.

Heads or tails?

Tails.

Sorry about that, son.

No point in frightening the poor little
darlings by going in mob-handed.

What's it?

Oh, yeah.

On a goat.

Damn.

Uh, 108 Ranley Road.

What's at 108 Ranley Road?

14-year-old racing certainty by the name
of Mary Louise Harding.

Tracy's got a thing about her, apparently.

Thinks she's the bee's knees.

And according to Top Spin Charlie back
there,

Mary Louise's mum has got a white fur
coat.

Oh, woman, my heart bleeds for her.

If anything happened to Mary Louise, I
think I'd kill myself.

You will excuse me getting on, won't you?

See, all area finals on Friday.

Have I seen you on come dancing?

Very similar.

Stop looking so dreary, darling. There's
a good girl.

Yes.

God alone knows I don't get much pleasure
since her father took to the continent.

He's in heavy vehicles, you know.

Sold him where he should be.

Which is why I'm partnered by my second
cousin, Leslie.

Clean your mind and wash your mouth out.

Oh, that reminds me. Is there any chance
of a cuppa?

But of course. Tea or coffee?

Oh, coffee would go down a treat,
wouldn't it, Clive?

That's a good girl, Mary Louise.

Thank you.

Use the Bolivian and the cups, not those
dreadful mugs.

And it was Leslie you were with all
yesterday afternoon, was it?

That's right. Practising over at Bishop's
Stortford.

On second thoughts, I think I prefer tea.

That's all right.

Stay strong, John.

You borrowed your mother's coat, didn't
you?

Well, how do you know?

By the look on your face.

So?

So?

Why didn't you tell us that you'd seen
Tracy last night?

What do you think?

Because your mother would give you a
stick over the coat.

Well done.

You listen to me, my girl.

It's a little kid out there who could be
dead.

So listen to your lip and you tell me
what happened now.

Look, she's always hanging around me.

Like I'm a sister or something.

I mean, it gets on my nerves.

I had a date with this bloke.

He's older than me.

Well, quite a bit older, actually.

So that's why I borrowed her rotten coat
and some of her underclothes, as well, if

you must know.

Anyway, we're walking past the church.

She's standing there.

Tracy is.

She wants to know where we're going, so I
say to her, none of your business.

We look around and she's following us.

Well, you got really upset and started
blaming me, but what could I do?

She's always doing it.

Following me around.

Anyway, finally we managed to get rid of
her.

I didn't see her anymore.

Whereabouts was this?

Near the old woods.

Now we know, don't we?

You're going to stick with the old woods
down here.

Old woods.

Done that.

Done that.

Wash the mask.

Washing machine.

Remind me to call them first thing in the
morning.

This is it. Get on to HQ and find out
what the crime figures are.

Sort out last month's return, add
whatever they tell you, and bung it in for this

month.

It's all right, I'll sign it. I'm the one
carrying the can.

They only shove it all in their bloody
computer anyway.

When you've done that, pick me up in the
canteen.

You, uh, you won the George Cross, then?

I mean, I knew someone from this division,
had.

Well, I mean, how often does a copper win
the George...

It's all right, son.

There's no need to get embarrassed.

You're not the only one who can't believe
it.

It was me, for a start.

You got shot, didn't you?

Twice.

Once in the chest, which was very nasty,
and once in the head.

Luckily, it went straight through my
brain, so it didn't do any damage.

Oh, yes, I'm famous now.

Every time I get a mention in the paper,
like local detective sods up court face,

there's a little footnote about my medal.

Why do you think your uncle loves me so
much?

I did most of my courting in these woods.

I lost my cherry here, now come to think
about it.

Under a crabapple tree, with the vague
assistance of a young lady called Beryl

Parkinson.

She used her map.

She was in the Salvation Army.

Where does this lead?

Out to the quarry.

Right, first light, I want it set.

Get it organized with you, Arthur.

Come on, son, bring it with you.

Oh, Arthur.

Yes, yes.

Get a WPC to meet me at Mrs. Uplers, will
you?

So do name in school.

Didn't stay on five minutes.

I wish I had something better to tell you,
Linda, love, but...

I know.

I know.

Here, I've got your fags.

Here, I'll talk to you later.

Look, um, I think it might be a good idea
if I ask the WPC here to stay the night

with you.

No.

I've been on my own since I was 15. I'll
be alright, I promise.

No.

You just... you just have to believe the
best, don't you?

Not good, you said.

No, uh, no, it's been bad.

She's been saying something about someone
called Billy.

Yeah, that's me, Billy.

Bill.

William.

William. She always insisted on calling
me by my right name.

Something about a holiday.

Yeah, we were supposed to be going to see
her sister.

She lives in America.

A place called Johnstown.

It happens before I go.

Thank you.

Jack, I don't think it's going to be long.

There you go.

Thanks.

You, um, you wouldn't fancy a cup of
coffee, I suppose.

I don't think your landlady would approve.

No.

I don't have a landlady.

What's this? Check arm to you. What's
that mean?

Barnum. He said he was with his arm.

Right. Okay, here you are.

You take the car and go and be nice to
Arm.

Then I want you to come and meet me in
the woods.

Oh, there's an operator.

Did you bring your boots? No, of course
you didn't.

See if you can get a hold of some. Come
on.

Well, I can't see us covering it in less
than two days, Jack.

By which time, even if she did just
wander off, she'd be in bird's eye country.

What a little cow.

So we don't need a place there. Anybody
check that out?

Yes, yes, yesterday.

There's nothing there but her bloody cats.

She must have been out collecting more of
them.

Right, what is done?

I was told this is a VIP suite.

Morning, gentlemen. Anything for me?

Sorry, Sandy, I'm not allowed to talk to
members of the press.

Strict instructions from Oberloin and
Mullet.

See, you got the divers out.

Can't put anything past him, can you?

He's got an eye of an eagle.

Well, now I've taken the trouble to come,
I hope she's in there.

See, the Green Party's been having a
picnic again.

They found a Sainsbury's trolley at
Malaga Airport last year.

That's your wonder, isn't it, gentlemen?

I'm off.

George, keep it.

OK, go.

Spot on, son.

You must be psychic.

No, don't get out.

Get your nice suit all dirty.

Seen auntie?

Mm-hmm.

He was there when he says he was.

She said, "He's so good to me."

He never misses a week, and he's always
starving when he gets here.

Cross him off, do you reckon?

Yeah, I reckon. Go.

Yeah.

He's never much of a contender, anyway.

Off we go.

Where to?

Oh, back to the ranch.

No, hang on.

Let's go have a word with Annie.

Why do you ask?

How many more times, Annie, because she's
gone missing?

No.

You didn't see her, right? Fine, that's
all we need to know.

Why didn't you stop them from here all
the time?

Why do you say children are so special?

It's special for them to come to my house
and call me names.

It's special for them to throw stones,
for them to hurt God's creatures.

Why, were any of the others here on
Sunday?

Children, and a simple yes or no will do.

I don't want a lecture.

No, children. Give me a pound.

Give her a pound, son.

And four?

Cat meat.

She's as nutty as a fruitcake in that
kitchen.

I mean, look at me, I'm still covered in
rotten cat hair.

I keep telling you about that, Sue.

We've got Mickey Hoskins, God.

You were quite right.

He was in the library, under unusual
interests.

Anyway, we've had a chat.

You're going to love this.

He says he couldn't have been molesting
the girl in Denton on Sunday afternoon

because he was molesting someone else.

The girl at the Century Cinema in Lexton.
I phoned the local police and it checks

out. They've got a complaint logged at
half five. Nice to spread it around, didn't

you, Michael?

Jack! All right, thank you. Just what we
need. All right, let's have a look at the

rest of him. Don't stand there gawping.
You're supposed to be looking for a little

kid. Come on, Arthur, sort them all out.
Hey, come on, you lot, get on with it. The

doctor's on his way, sir. The doctor? Oh,
yes, we're not supposed to presume death,

are we? Arthur, get his chest uncovered
in case our medical genius wants to use

these stethoscopes. Who's in God here? Oh,
Jack. I might have guessed. Hello. If

you had to find a body in a place like
this, I'd pick a sunny day. Let's have a

He called me a bit late, I'm afraid.

Not earlier, I could have saved him.

I know, I tried to give him CPR, but he
stuck his fingers up my nose.

All right, come on then, Doc.

Time of death?

Well, your guess is as good as mine.

Years, ten, twenty, perhaps even longer.

You'll need to show it to the forensic
boys.

Half an arm and a rusty chain.

I love it.

I must leave you.

Um, I'll let you have my report.

Report? What report? You haven't done
anything.

You want the pathologist.

Looks like they're in.

Anyway, he's paid more than I am.

Bye.

Bye.

Bye.

Jack.

Yes.

Oh, well.

Were there any plane crashes in this area
during the war?

I've no idea why.

Well, it looks to me like the sort of box
they use for confidential dispatches.

You know, chained to the courier's wrist.

I wondered if he might have been thrown
out of a plane blowing up or something.

Could be worth checking.

Why not?

I've got nothing else to do.

Nothing spectacular, I'm afraid.

Everything rottable had rotted.

So all we're left with is the metal
objects.

Here we have the zip from his trousers,
with the buttons.

Here's what's left of his watch.

Wrist watch, cheap palette movement,
nothing of particular interest.

A few coins.

Dated when?

The latest of this two-shilling piece,
1964.

Oh, well, Bangor, it's your theory, Clive.

I'm sorry?

Constable here, an idea that he might
have been killed during the war.

What about these?

Two small deskings, don't know what the
larger one is, and a flat piano.

Presumably a house key, but unfortunately,
I don't have a number.

I mean, it's a pint in good condition,
and his shoes.

But no khaki?

None found, anyway.

And what are these?

The remains of tacks from his shoes.

I see.

Right, well, you've given us our starters.

Now, what about the main course?

The what?

The box.

Oh, the box.

Yes, well, we managed to get it open.

Anne?

Absolutely, sort of.

Mr. Garwood said he'd be with you in just
a moment.

Um, there is a no smoking sign, actually.

Sorry.

This is uphill.

To come through.

You must be very worried. I'm so sorry.

I need some money.

Yes, of course.

£2,000.

Linda, your account is nothing like that.

I want £2,000, Ronald, and I want it now.

And I don't want you to ask why.

And I don't want anyone else to know
about it.

What happened to the assistant manager,
Linda? I can't...

I want that money, Ronald.

And unless I get it, I'll tell your
fiancé about your Thursday dinners.

And I'll tell her how you spend your
Thursday evenings.

I'm at my wit's end.

I mean it, Ronald.

I really mean it.

I don't know what time I'll get off.

I still have to help him falsify his tax
returns.

Maybe we should forget about it, eh?

Just come with me.

I'll give you a call.

No need.

Just come around.

See you later.

Yeah, see you.

Bye.

All right.

So, what's he doing with an empty steel
box handcuffed to his wrist?

Well, maybe what was in it had already
been delivered.

Then why have it still chained to his
wrist?

And why lock it up again?

No, son, this one has got complications.

Well, don't you worry about it.

You sit there eating your doughnut nice
and slowly so you don't get an ulcer.

Meanwhile, I will go and play Mr. Plod,
the policeman.

Dad?

She's a nice girl, WPC Wallace.

She's bright too.

Don't mess her about, son.

Heard about my skeleton, have you?

Yeah, you get all the cushy ones.

Did you get it?

Yes.

Have you called the police?

No.

You have?

I swear it, please.

Is she all right?

Tell me she's all right, please.

I haven't told you anything.

No, only that they've taken her in.

Why do they bother?

God's sake, he's riddled with this stuff.

I mean, why do they bother?

I can't stand around here all day, I just
can't.

I mean, what do they expect?

It's not what they want, Jack.

It's what you want.

Ross, telephone.

At least in my game, there's always an
excuse.

Ah, he's cleaned up very nicely, I must
say.

What?

Oh, yes, his mother would be proud of him.

Have a look at this.

Now, this wasn't broken or chewed off.

It was deliberately hung with something
like an axe.

Before or after death?

Yes, I can only surmise, but I'd hazard
shortly after death, before serious

decomposition took place.

My guess is that the arm was severed in
order to remove the chain.

Yeah, but it was still on the arm.

Well, we must suppose that whoever
chopped it, chopped too high up, and wouldn't

have been able to slide the wristband
over the severed end.

The victim was probably fleshy, a little
thunt.

Try dragging your wristwatch up your arm.

You'll find it gets stuck halfway.

Why cut off the arm to remove a locked
and empty box?

You're the detective, not I.

Which is why I'm surprised you haven't
commented on the best bit.

Good God.

And this is the perpetrator.

A pistol bullet.

We found it inside the skull with all the
dirt.

Anything else? I'll, of course, advise
you.

How is Chief Inspector Allen, by the way?

I was very sorry to hear of his illness.

Not half as sorry as I am.

I’d like to speak to the officer in
charge of looking for the missing girl, Tracy

Uphill.

Just tell him her mother withdrew a large
sum of…

All they could say was it was aged
between 35 and 40, height, 5'9", 5'10".

Extensive dental work might give her
something.

Well, his left leg had been broken about
five years before he died.

Anything they could tell you about the
security box?

No.

It was very strong and obviously
especially made for the job.

The sort of thing security firms use to
carry large sums of money.

They managed to get the maker's name…

...of the lock, which was, um…

Smith and Curtis.

They used to specialize in safes and
strong boxes and so on.

Used to…

Yes, they went out of business in 1969.

Anyway, I’ve got records digging up all
the missing persons between 1955 and 61,

but that might take a bit of time, so
I’ve had a word with the local press to see

if they can help.

With something. Alternatively, I could
always put him back in the ground and dig

him up when things get a bit slack.

No, Tracy, dear.

What am I doing messing about with a load
of old bones on your…

God knows where?

And what am I going to tell your mum?

Doing our best.

And I'll really perk her up.

I've got to tell her something, that's
for sure.

Don't give me any more of that stuff.

Just burn it.

What did you make of that phone call?

What phone call?

There's a note on your desk here, tell me.

What did it say, this note?

Here we go.

Paul wanted to talk to you about the
missing girl.

Wouldn't leave his name.

Just said, tell him her mother withdrew a
large sum.

Then he rang off.

Why didn't you tell me this before?

Well, he's been sitting around here for
God knows how long.

If you cleared up that mess once in a
while, he might be able to find something.

A bit of paper.

That's not the key.

So, I'll go through the files as
requested.

And what I turn up, thank you very much,
is the best story I've had in years, which

I have, incidentally, already sold to the
dailies.

Cheers.

Don't you need the news?

Of course.

You and I were still in short pants.

1961.

Let me see.

Kennedy elected, Gagarin first man in
space, Berlin Wall went up.

Yeah, Tottenham did the double beating.

Leicester City 2-0 in the cup final.

Come on, Sandy, let's have it.

Felton was a cashier working for the
Eastern County's bank on the old Ice Street.

26th of January, 1961, and he left Denton
by car driven by a junior clerk, Ronald

Garwood.

Destination, their sub-branch in Exley,
seven miles away, to deliver £40,000 locked

in a case chained to Felton's wrist.

Car never arrived.

It was found on a side road, far from the
route it should have taken.

Gold was found unconscious.

He was badly beaten, and has no memory of
what happened.

It's believed the 40,000 is gone.

Any next of kin?

His wife remarried an American. No other
family.

You said Garwood still has no memory.

He's back at the bank, as system manager.

I spoke to him half an hour ago.

As you can imagine, he was quite
surprised.

I tried to get a statement from the bank
manager, but he wasn't cooperating.

So, I think I owe you one.

I'm tempted to buy you a curry.

Editor!

Yes, he is.

I have to go home.

See you tomorrow, Linda.

You can go home tomorrow.

No, I have to leave now.

I said I'll be there when he calls again.

I mean, that was the deal.

She might even be there waiting. She’s
waiting.

They found her bag.

And?

Empty.

The 2,000, you mean?

Well, everything.

The bath.

Why the hell didn't she tell us?

Because she was afraid, that’s why.

It’s stupid, more than.

Yeah, well, not everyone’s got your brain
power, have they, Constable?

It’s a pity you leave it in neutral most
of the time.

I thought you ought to know.

Someone just phoned for her.

You wouldn't leave his name.

What did you want?

He wanted to know if we were keeping her
in.

You said yes?

Yes.

Get yourself another body, and you go and
sit outside her house.

Thank you.

Well, what are we after?

Kidnapper, my arse.

What sort of kidnapper?

And nicks a woman, small change, and her
front door keys.

I'll tell you this all.

A nasty little tow rag who knows the
place is going to be empty.

So not content with the 2,000.

He's going to pop in there and nick
whatever else is going.

The cheaper they are, the greedier they
are.

And greed, my son, is the biggest mistake
of the lot.

Now, you let him get in there.

You catch him on the way out when he's
got his hands full.

And when you've got him, you give me a
shout here.

I'll be here in Churchill Ward.

Yeah, but no, don't ask.

Ask any questions.

Puppet.

What did he say to you?

Oh, I see.

Perhaps I should have done the same.

I'm afraid he caught me unawares, which
is, of course, what they're trying to do,

these people.

And I suppose we shall have the police
asking all their stupid questions again.

Though God only knows what use it is, and
quite frankly, the last...

Yes.

Yes, I will.

I'm sorry.

Smoke, drink, you name it, I abused it.

Get away.

And then one morning I woke up and I said
to myself,

Howard, what are you doing?

What are you one?

What are you doing?

Oh, right.

I mean, in terms of my body.

Oh, yeah.

Got him?

In the nick.

I'm, uh...

I'm sorry to hear your wife is so ill,
Guff.

I was told downstairs.

I mean, I didn't know.

You should have known.

All right.

Come on.

Let's go.

I was arrested when leaving the house.

Mrs. Uphill's death was an accident.

I didn't mean to harm her.

I just saw it as an easy way out.

OK?

OK.

If you could just sign here for me.

Here and here.

Thank you, sir.

Communist 2345, the interview with Darren
Brennan is concluded.

Thank you.

I've been reviewing your form.

You're not a local.

I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you
before.

Or perhaps, meeting any other citizens
like you.

But harming women doesn't seem to be a
major part of your philosophy.

They provoke me.

I understand what you mean, sir.

I know what you mean.

Women were only put on this earth so we
strong men can discipline them now and then.

What else?

Just having a chat.

Make sure that scumbag Brennan gets a
decent night's kit, because I'm going to

throw the book at him tomorrow.

First thing tomorrow morning, contact the
bank and schedule an appointment with

Garwin.

No.

Right, where are you going?

Oh, home.

Have you finished those crime reports yet?

Well, get them done, then.

I'm sorry, son. I'm not feeling well
tonight.

Come on.

It's Bobo's turn.

You look half dead.

Tell him to pick me up outside the
hospital in 20 minutes.

Good morning.

Oh, hi.

Anything all right?

No change.

Only when they told me you were here, I...

You know the truth.

Couldn't stand being in that house on me
own.

No bolt and the skeleton thing.

Yeah, I do.

I mean, just finding him like that after
all this time.

Well, you can't keep anything hidden.

Not forever.

Just you remember that.

I know, Mr. Powell.

Funnily enough, I saw him here only
yesterday.

Powell?

Oh, what's the bank manager, right?

I nursed his wife for a while.

Until she was completely gone.

Well, Alzheimer's...

He’s the only one allowed near her.

24 hours a day.

How he manages it, I have no idea.

Patients are saints.

Stay there, dear.

I’m just bringing your tea.

Morning.

Is it?

I phoned the bank.

Oh, what’s in today?

Where is it?

They don’t know.

Thank you very much.

He usually leaves the house at half past
eight.

What about last night?

Well, they were out until midnight, but
they noticed all his lights were still on.

Yeah, they still are.

So, he’s not at work.

He's not answering the phone.

Carl's still in the drive.

He hasn't taken the paper in.

So, looks like I'm going to have to shove
you and your brand new suit through the

window.

Thank you.

You know, waste not, want not.

Don't drip blood over the man's nice
clean floor.

There's a good boy.

Up in here, it looks like he's been
turned over. Yes, him and me both.

Well, he was shot at a distance of a few
feet.

Bullets lodged in the scowl somewhere.

I'll fish it out for you when I do the
autopsy.

He'd have fallen back, hit his head on
this table.

Not that he'd have felt it. He was dead
before he hit the floor.

Some people have all the luck.

Rough time?

Speculation again, but I'd say between 8
and 10 last night.

It'll be more precise after the post-
mortem.

Quite a busy period for you, Inspector.

Yes. So far this week, I'm averaging a
body a day.

Are you sure you'll be alright?

Are you sure you don't want me to come in?

It'll be alright.

If he didn't take her, where is she?

What about the girl?

Oh, Tracey, yes.

We mustn't forget little Tracey, must we?

So far, she's been seen in London,
Cornwall and Dover.

She's been seen on a lorry heading up the
M1, in a cafe in Leeds with two

Pakistanis and a Chinaman.

Outside a cinema in Bromley with a bloke
and a crash on it everywhere except here

in Denton.

I'll extend the search area tomorrow, but
if we don't get a break soon, it's not

looking good.

Yes, well, um...

I've got to get up for this damn civic
luncheon.

Sir, I don't want to spoil your appetite
by you sitting there worrying.

Dwell on the thought.

In a couple of weeks, Detective Inspector
Alan will be back, which means the girl

will be miraculously found alive and well.

The skeleton will walk into the nick,
bringing with it the missing £40,000 and a

signed confession to Garwood's murder.

Rain will stop, poverty will vanish, and
peace will break out all over...

the world. In the meantime, yours truly
will attempt to stick his finger up the

dyke as per. Have a nice lunch, sir. It's
not much of a place for a retired bank

manager. Don't mention Garwood until I'm
ready, right? Right. I've been expecting

you ever since I read about it in the
paper this morning. Poor Felton. Of course,

everyone was convinced that he's
absconded with the money, even myself, I'm afraid.

How well do you remember the day of the
robbery, Mr. Bell? I remember it very

clearly.

It could help if you would tell us about
it, sir.

Yes, I'm so sorry.

Just after I returned home from the bank,
I was called by Stephen Harrington, the

manager of our Exley branch.

He wanted to know if we could help him
with a large cash transfer the following day.

The 40,000?

Besides you and the manager at…

Exley.

Exley.

Who else knew about the transfer?

Only Felton and Garwood, the two clerks
who would be making the delivery.

How many keys were there to the security
box?

Two. I had one set, and Harrington and
Exley had the other.

I personally checked the money into the
box,

secured the chain to Felton’s wrist, told
them to wait in my office until 12:30,

and then left for my appointment.

Appointment?

At the funeral.

Mrs. Kingsley?

One of our largest private accounts.

and a dear personal friend.

There was no way I could miss paying my
last respects.

I returned from the funeral a little
after two o'clock.

Telephoned Harrington, who told me the
money hadn't arrived.

I immediately informed the police, and
the car and young Garwood were found in a

lane just off Denton Road.

The police asked me to check if I still
had the keys to the security box.

I opened the safe in my office where I'd
put them, but they weren't there.

Did Felton have a key to your safe, sir?

Yes, he did.

Young Garwood can confirm all this, of
course.

Presumably, you will be speaking to him.

I thought Mr. Garwood had no memory of
that day.

Oh, only as I understand it from when he
was struck on the head.

He can certainly corroborate events prior
to that.

I doubt it, sir.

Last night, someone put a bullet through
his brain, just like they did poor Mr.

Felton.

It's alright, my darling. I'm coming.

Did you go? You went away. You know I
don't like you going away.

Oh, well, you were asleep, my darling.

Come on.

Those men here have come to see how you
are, my darling.

You must go now. She gets very nervous.

It isn't her fault, you understand.

Now, why don't we read your book?

Way to end up, eh, Gav?

That room, like a flippin' museum, all
those photographs.

I suppose it must have been their son.

Pride and joy, by the look of it.

What?

Pride and joy.

The son.

Yes.

Yeah, I suppose.

So either Felton was working on his own
and he was turned over afterwards, or he

was working with an accomplice and they
fell out.

So it's who had the motive and the
opportunity.

Well, apart from Harrington, over at
Exley, who died four years ago, three people

knew that money was leaving their back.

Now, Felton and Garwood are dead, so that
leaves old man power.

If he did end up with a £40,000, judging
by the way he lives, he hasn't done much

with it.

No.

Oh, right.

Not unless he needed it for something
else.

Frost.

Ah.

Yes.

How are you finding things here?

Findings.

Yeah.

No problems?

No, sir.

Yeah.

Thanks.

Good.

That was the jolly ballistic, boys.

Have we got those bags I gave you?

No, God.

Don't lie to me.

Give me one.

They say that the bullet that killed
Garwood last night was fired from the same gun

that killed Felton 30 years ago.

They suggest it might be significant.

You mean they were both killed by the
same person?

No, by the same gun.

What did you give me this for, eh?

Johnny, what have we got?

No, I'll do that, sir.

No, I sat there.

All night I sat there, trying to feel
something.

She was my wife and she was dying and I
couldn't feel anything for her.

Things started to go wrong for us, God
knows how many years ago.

When we found out she couldn't have kids,

When we found out she couldn't have kids,
otherwise she just changed.

We changed.

She suddenly became all house proud.

Everything had to be clean and neat and
tidy.

Well, you only got to take one look at me.

My job.

On the street, copper, that's where I
belong.

That wasn't good enough for her now.

She wanted me to go for a promotion.

Be ambitious to make something of myself.

She wanted something to be proud of, you
see.

What poor Carl got was me.

She came to despise me in the end.

I know she did.

I used to dread going home.

To see that look of disappointment in her
face.

So I stopped going home.

You know, it was any excuse.

Anyway, I met someone else.

I made up my mind to leave her.

On the very day that I plucked up courage
to tell her,

a doctor phoned me at the station.

18 months to live.

So they're in.

And she always had trouble with her
stomach.

She always had nerves and running along.

Anyway, she wanted to know.

Hope.

She clung to me for the first time in
years.

Her whole body shaking.

You will look after me, Billy.

You will look after me, Billy.

You will look after me, won't you?

I said, of course I'll look after you.

Of course I'll stay and take care of you.

I went out and got very drunk.

I was still drunk when I heard about a
man with a gun.

Before they could stop me, I confronted
him.

Do you know what I was thinking?

I just wanted him to shoot me.

I didn't care either way.

An act of outstanding heroism.

I received a medal.

I think it was the happiest day of her
life.

She stood beside me outside Buckingham
Palace.

Finally, I'd done something to make her
proud.

And I wasn't even there when she died.

That was just like her.

You let me down too, Billy.

I can't trust you with anything.

I have a copy of the caretaker's medical
report, Albert Barrow.

Remember Guff? He disappeared after the
robbery.

The doctor says that despite breaking his
leg 19 months ago, it wouldn't affect his

caretaker duties.

So it might not be Felton, after all. It
might be this guy, Barrow.

I mean, we'll look at the shoulder and
death.

He could certainly put a different slant
on things, right?

Look, I've got a couple of things to do.

You stay and have a cup of tea or
something.

I'll be back here in an hour.

What time was this?

It'll be about seven. Just before I
phoned you.

Tell me about the sun.

Well, it's hearsay, mind, but straight
out of the deep loosey by all accounts.

Went to the RAF, left in something of a
hurry.

Bit of a scandal about a mess bill or
something.

Started up a vintage car business, that
went down the pan.

Started up something else, ditto.

Thought he knew it, he's got more
creditors and this has got bones.

So, £40,000 might have got him out of a
lot of trouble.

Might have done.

Trouble is, the robbery was in 1961 and
he threw himself under a train in 1957.

Sorry, Jack.

Not your day, is it?

Not my day at all.

Wait here till I need you.

The editor told me he'd spoken to Mr.
Garwood and the bank manager, who'd refused

him an interview at the time. I thought
he meant the current bank manager, Mr.

Hudson, but now I realize he meant you,
Mr. Powell.

But you told me the first you knew of it
was when you read about it in the morning

That is, after Garwood's death.

You lied, Mr. Powell.

You lied.

Because you killed them, didn't you?

Let me speak to your wife.

No, my wife, there was nothing other than..
.

Have you still got the gun, sir?

What happens now?

I must ask you to come with me.

No.

I can't allow that.

I've already got one medal, Mr. Powell.

I don't need another.

All right.

It's because the box was empty.

That's how you know, isn't it?

Something like that, yes.

I knew, you see.

I knew as soon as you found him.

My son.

He had so many grandiose ideas.

He thought he was so clever.

The scum that he mixed with were far
cleverer.

They took him for thousands.

To get out of trouble, he misappropriated
about £25,000 of a client’s money.

A lot of money back then.

He came to me, not for the first time,
asking for help.

How could I refuse my son? He was the
light of his mother’s life.

I had been managing the finances of an
old woman named Mrs. Kingsley for some time.

She had nearly a quarter of a million
pounds untouched in her account.

She trusted me completely. Getting the
£25,000 wasn’t hard.

It wasn't exactly honest, was it?

He would have gone to prison. I couldn't
let that happen.

His mother idolized him.

To this day, she has no idea how much
pain he caused.

So, you fiddled the old lady's books?

I intended to pay her back, every last
penny.

A month later, he wanted more.

This time, I said no.

He begged, but I remained firm.

This time, he'd have to find his own way
out of the mess he'd made of his life.

He went to London, wrote me a note, and
killed himself.

His mother.

Hmm.

His mother was left completely broken.

And you were left to account for the £25,
000 you'd stolen?

As long as the old lady was alive, I had
breathing space.

Two years I lived on my nerves,

repaying what money I could, terrified
that my wife wouldn't.

Then in quick succession I received two
body blows.

Felt when my chief clerk found out about
the money, began blackmailing me,

threatening to tell my wife whose health
was already.

And the news I'd been dreading.

The old lady died.

It was only a matter of time before my
deception was uncovered, and then, out of

the blue, apparent salvation – I was
asked to transfer the money to the Exley

branch.

When I informed Felton that he was to act
as courier, he immediately saw it as a

way for me to pay back the stolen money
and for him to pocket the rest.

We would arrange for a fake robbery to
take place.

I would slip away from the funeral and
set up an obstruction in the road.

When young R. would stop the car, Felton
would knock him unconscious.

When he came round, Felton would tell of
a masked man with a gun who'd coshed them

both.

Yes. Meantime, I would return to the
funeral, throwing away the open and empty box

for the police to find later.

And the money? The 40,000?

The money was in the last place anyone
would think to look for it.

They never left my office. The box was
empty the whole time.

So the police would be looking for an
armed man with a sack full of money and find

neither because they were non-existent?

Well, that is clever.

That is true.

But something went wrong.

Something went wrong.

He's all right.

The windscreen shoots blood.

The keys.

Unlock the bloody case.

I changed into my dark suit before going
to the funeral.

In doing so, I'd placed the keys on top
of my filing cabinet.

They were still there.

You...

Bloody hell!

Stop it.

What happened?

There was only one thing left for me.

It made it appear that the robbery had
taken place.

And that Felton was involved.

Took the keys from where I'd left them.

It made it appear that Felton had taken
my way home.

And it was completely dark.

I wouldn't bear it.

It's only then that I realised what I'd
done.

Wrote away the keys before putting the
money back into the box.

How could I explain it if the body were
found at the box cutter?

and revealed me and I went back with a oh
no I dug it out of the hole and when I

returned home I scrubbed my hands and
they're blessed

Out of place, I might just understand how
you came to kill Felton, but, um, killing

Garwood?

I knew you would question Garwood.

And if there was the chance, the
slightest chance that he would...

You see, I love my wife very much, Mrs.
Bell.

And she needs me, you see.

I'm the only one she trusts.

She depends on me entirely.

Without me, I wouldn't please.

And if I were taken from them, it would
ruin his life.

Are you all right?

Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Powell, who are
helping a student.

It's not a one-sided suicide.

What's happening? Is the pathologist
examining him?

Straight to the morgue.

I mean, I'll have to inform the next of
kin.

There is no next of kin.

Oh, Jack, you've got a box.

You all right, bud?

Yeah, I'm all right.

Broke the door down, did you?

Yeah.

Well, I thought you were in trouble.

It was a bit daft, wasn't it?

You could have got your ruddy head blown
off.

It must have been around the twist, poor
old sod.

No.

He just loved her.

Not today, thank you.

Oh, right.

Kit.

Yes, what is it?

Don't tell me you found someone else with
a bullet in his bonk.

He's all right.

She was just...

just left outside casualty.

Sedated and wrapped in a blanket.

There's no evidence of any kind of
assault.

Apart from the bag on the head, she's
fine.

I'll see if I can get them to get you a
cup of tea, all right?

Mr. Frost.

You all right, Gav?

Seem to spend half of my rotten life in
this hospital.

Let's get out of here, go and get some
decent petrol fumes down our lungs, for

God's sake.

What's this?

Oh, just a blanket and the clothes she
was wearing.

No, this. Cat's hair. You're covered in
it.

Gav?

Yes.

Where are they?

What?

Cats.

What happened, Danny?

Children.

They come here.

They torment me.

Throw stones, break windows.

Call me witch.

Hexa.

The priest.

See ya.

Last Sunday she come, the girl.

She sees me and calls me filthy names.

Where do children learn such words?

I think it's best to say nothing.

They get bored and go away.

But this one keeps going on and on.

And then she throws a stone.

My kitten was outside, my lovely white
kitten.

She hit it.

It cried in pain.

And suddenly I was so angry, angry for
all those years.

And I picked up a stone and threw it.

And she fell.

And when I saw what I had done, I was
frightened.

I hid her.

And stopped the blood.

And gave her medicine to help her sleep.

But I knew she needed a doctor.

And I took her to the hospital.

I know she'll tell you.

I know you can.

Oh, no.

I know I must be punished.

Go.

If I am not here, who will care for them?

Who will look after them?

Of course, the irony of it all is, if the
girl's mother had been 20 minutes earlier,

that body would probably have remained
in those woods for another 30 years.

It's the first thing that struck me, sir.

It's the irony of it all.

It's the irony of it all.

I remember saying to D.C. Barnard as they
carted Powell and his wife off to the

morgue, how ironic, I said.

If you'll excuse me, sir, I have some
paperwork to clear up.

I was really very sorry to hear about
your wife.

I was really very sorry to hear about
your wife. If there's anything I can do.

Thank you.

Oh, and you'd better get on to the social
services, people.

What for, sir?

A mother who lets her young daughter run
the streets while she uses the home for

prostitution.

Come on, Archie.

But that means they might take the kid
away from her.

That's for them to decide.

She loves that kid.

It's called care and protecting them.

Well, I suppose someone's got to pay for
that bloody helicopter,

haven't they, sir?

And you will let me have your reports in
writing, won't you?

Take the car, and I'll see you in the
morning.

All right, go.

Nine tomorrow.

Pick me up, I'll say.

Carl, go on.