Original subtitles

RUSTLING

Mrs Whateley. Yes. John Corntel - Matthew's housemaster.

I really don't want to worry you, but is your son here?

What do you mean, he's missing?! We're doing everything we can

to find your son.

Never mind that! What have the police said?

We've held off going to the police until we could clarify that Matthew hasn't come home.

Good boy.

Stop here.

Nice and slow...

MOBILE RINGS

Ignore it! Just ignore it!

It's all right. Good lad. Just ignore it.

Stay there. Stay there.

Lynley...

John!

Ah...how did you know I was here?

It's the only place you ever turn off your mobile.

I just sit by his bed, trying to feel all of the things you're supposed

to feel when a parent's dying.

Feeling guilty cos I can't seem to feel them.

Don't be too hard on yourself, eh?

We were never close.

Yeah, I know.

Nothing that I particularly want to go into.

I thought this was your weekend off.

I just received a call from an old friend.

You don't HAVE to be involved. He's a housemaster at a boys' boarding

school. A boy has gone missing.

What...an old friend? His name's John

Corntel. We were at school together.

Oh, I see.

What is that supposed to mean?!

When I say, "We were at school together," I've spotted a familiar face at a supermarket check-out.

When YOU say it, it means a tug on the old school tie and you come running.

If it wasn't for John Corntel, Sergeant, it terrifies me to think where I might be today.

His friendship is something I value almost above anything else.

And, yes, we did wear the same tie at school.

The sleeping pill's got her off.

Detective Inspector Lynley from New Scotland Yard. Mr Whateley... Detective Sergeant Havers.

How is your wife? Matthew was everything to her. ..IS. IS everything to her.

I'm sure. Has he ever run away from school before? Never.

He gave no hint that he was thinking of running away, or was at all unhappy at school? None whatsoever.

Is it possible to see Matthew's room? It helps to give a sense

of the person we're looking for.

Sure. It's that room on the left. I'll put the kettle on. Thank you. That's very kind.

Have another go at the dad to see why Matthew may have run away.

I think working-class boy at private boarding school's a good place to start.

Proper diaries.

When you last spoke to Matthew, did you detect any difference in his mood,

or did he use any unusual turn of phrase?

Nothing.

Happy birthday, Matthew. Stephen Cowfrey-Pitt.

Grown-up books for a little boy.

JANGLY BASS GUITAR MUSIC

MOBILE RINGS

Just had a call from the school.

Dear God!

They're fresh. By its width, I'd say it's an HGV, coach, something along those lines.

Check all coach firms, hauliers, anyone whose route takes them

near Stoke Poges. Right.

Make sure SOCOs get a cast of the tread before the rain washes it away. OK, Sarge. Oscar Charlie, 43...

What've you got for us, Mike?

I'll do a full autopsy in the morning, but what I've seen so far doesn't make sense. In what way?

At first glance, I could rattle off two possible causes of death. Two?

Strangulation and mutilation.

Is your boss OK? Yeah...he WILL be.

How did you get this case? Matthew's

death was reported in Hammersmith, within our jurisdiction.

With my knowledge of schools like Bredgar Hall, it would be perverse

to give it to anyone else.

MY knowledge of schools like Bredgar Hall is negligible.

But I believe the comprehensive in West Acton

was briefly twinned with a privately operated remand centre in West Yorkshire!

I wanted you here because you'll come to the school with fresh eyes - without prejudice.

Without prejudice?

Apart from my opinion that a system which dumps kids with relative strangers is fundamentally rotten.

An opinion you will leave at the school gates, if you don't mind. Opinion dumped, sir.

The message couldn't be clearer. Chas? Yes.

With this demonstration, the headmaster tells us that he'll see us when he's ready. What?

Instead of coming to meet us in person, he dispatches one of his

prefects. No doubt the Head Boy.

You can't read so much into that!

Chas Quilter. Head Boy.

DI Lynley.

Very pleased to meet you.

The headmaster sends his apologies. He's on the phone with the board of governors about poor Matthew.

Ahem!

Come along, Sergeant. Chop chop!

Chop chop, sir?! Havers.

You do realise any authority I might have here

will be pissed to the wind if you insist on treating me like your nameless flunkey?!

These kids are used to the hired help in the background. They drop their guard before them. Understand?

Yes, sir. I need you to be my eyes and ears here, Sergeant.

As a female, you have a special status in a boys' school. Use it.

..I may even ask you to ABUSE it.

This way, Inspector.

This is our school bursar, Stephen Cowfrey-Pitt. He used to be on the teaching staff.

Cowfrey-Pitt? No doubt the scumbag responsible for this has already

crawled back under his stone.

Maybe not. The faster we move, the better chance we have of finding

him.

Paradise Lost!

I'm sorry?

You made an inscription in the copy of Paradise Lost that I found in Matthew's home in Hammersmith.

I occasionally give books to the less advantaged boys at Bredgar Hall. Excuse me, I must make a call.

Um, Chas, wait outside, will you?

Sue. Though I'm loathe to,

I must reschedule my meeting with the redevelopment team this afternoon.

Say that something unavoidable came up, without specifying what.

We ought to discuss tenders for digging the foundations ASAP, so let's coordinate diaries for, say,

a week today...?

Good. Thank you.

The death of a child overshadows all else, Inspector. At a school, I expect it would, yes.

- It's a setback for the school. - Not to mention the boy!

So, how can we help you?

I would like to start with Matthew's room, if I may.

What he took with him. What he left behind. A diary. His notes.

Something... Anything.

His point of departure should be our first port of call.

Chas is at your disposal.

Can we rely on his discretion?

Discretion is just one of many admirable qualities.

Would you show the inspector to Matthew Whateley's dormitory, please?

Certainly, sir.

Thank you, Headmaster...Bursar.

Good of you to give us your time, Chas. We're all deeply shocked by

this, Inspector. I'm glad I can help.

- Daniels...shirt! - Yeah, sorry.

Tell me, your father wouldn't be Francis Quilter QC? You know him?

One of the few silks to be highly respected by both the criminal fraternity AND the police force.

Everyone loves my father.

Will you follow in his footsteps?

I have a conditional place to read law. Lot of hard graft first, though.

Glad you're not taking anything

for granted. I'm bright, but I'm not clever, if you know what I mean.

I must work hard for the grades I want.

Must be lots of boys with successful fathers here. At £6,000 a term,

one could take that as a given.

- But not Matthew's father, sir. - Sorry?

His dad was a builder. Would hardly make Matthew one of the boys.

We do not discriminate against anyone here, Sergeant.

If he's made it all the way up here from all the way down there, that's all the more reason to respect him.

Chas, it's a good read!

Brian, this is Detective Inspector

Lynley and Sergeant...

Sorry, I didn't catch your name.

Havers. Detective Sergeant Havers.

They're here about Matthew. He was well liked - even among

us sixth formers, which is unusual.

In what way? At boarding school, each

year group is quite self-contained.

Matthew was an unusual boy,

Inspector. We all sincerely hope you find whoever did this.

I'll be in chapel if you want a spot of practice later. I'll come and find you. Nice to meet you.

What I meant before. I'm bright... he is seriously clever.

This is Matthew's house, Erebus.

It's named after the primal darkness that emerged after chaos - apt when you see the state of the boys' rooms!

Which it's the senior house prefect's

job to keep under control, eh, Pritchard? A losing battle!

Coburn, Green - double biology started five minutes ago. Go on!

Yes, Pritchard. Sorry! Move!

I'm putting up a notice to invite boys to see Matron to discuss any anxieties about the last 24 hours.

Before the counsellors descend. I'm showing the inspector Matthew's room. I'LL do that.

Matthew was in my house.

It sounds ridiculous, but I feel I should have noticed whatever it was that led to poor Mattie running off.

I'll wait for you outside, Inspector.

The senior boys have their own rooms. Slightly less senior share.

You're allowed beer in school?

Every Friday, each sixth former is allowed one small bottle.

Designed to avert

more serious secret consumption. Something like that! ..This way.

Boys Whateley's age sleep in dormitories. Three or four to a room. This is Matthew's.

This one.

As you can see, Matthew was a keen photographer. He was very good.

Mmm. The photographic society is run by John Corntel.

He teaches boys the basics and then helps them develop their prints in the darkroom. ..Rather THEM than ME.

Sorry? Oh, Matthew was one of the stars of the club.

You discovered Matthew missing at lights-out, is that right?

That's right.

In my day, the housemaster did the last-minute check.

Some housemasters do, some don't.

Corntel gave that responsibility to you? Mmm, I think he feels more

comfortable letting prefects do it.

Why? Not walking around a house

full of half-dressed boys, miss.

Oh, why is that? Probably for the same reason he doesn't involve himself in school trips or PE.

John Corntel happens to be a very good friend of mine.

If you have anything to say about his conduct at school, now would be a good time to come out and say it.

I didn't mean to cause offence, Inspector. I was merely making an observation.

Thank you for your assistance, Clive. We can manage from here.

I'll be downstairs if you need me.

What was that all about?

Nothing like a bit of schoolboy slander to while away a dull study period.

But, sir... I'll deal with it.

Now,

we know Matthew disappeared on Friday night without permission.

Was he running away,

or was he sneaking out to meet someone?

OK, son... Time to tell me all you know.

A row of diaries at home,

nothing here covering the last year.

Read back what we've got. Um...a half-finished letter to someone called Jeanie.

A missing school uniform. Missing school shoes. And he seems to have left his asthma inhaler.

Suggesting?

He left in a hurry. Or?

Or he didn't think

he was going to be gone long.

He'd be easier to spot in his uniform.

And leaving his inhaler suggests he didn't plan on staying out.

So Matthew goes on a little outing somewhere,

and is snatched either en route or on his way back.

Or when he arrived.

Or when he arrived.

Any news back from the boys on the tyre tracks in the lay-by?

They're asking locals if they saw any heavy traffic in Stoke Poges.

We're waiting on the wider search,

but...my feeling is the lorry's our best bet.

Plenty of gruesome precedent.

Maybe... Read that letter again.

"Dear Jeanie, Thank you for dinner last Tuesday and for dropping me back at school.

"Don't worry about me being late - the boy who saw can't say anything.

"I hope the Colonel doesn't mind me beating him at chess. I've always been pretty good at thinking ahead. "

And that's as far as he gets.

Perhaps he was going to her house when he was picked up. Or perhaps

he arrived and she wasn't there.

The father was - an old man who likes playing games with little boys. Things get out of hand...

Speak to the boys in Matthew's dorm. End this running-away theory. I'll find out who Jeanie is.

Wouldn't it be better if YOU spoke to them - this being a boys' school

run almost entirely by men?

A woman can encourage boys to reveal things. Should I have brought rubber gloves, sir?!

Psychological things. Yes, sir.

Inspector, my observations earlier. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... Ah!

I thought I'd find you here, Tommy.

The boys in Matthew's dorm - how can I locate them? John can tell you.

Of course... I have every boy's

timetable. I'll have them in the library in 15 minutes. Thank you.

Sit there, Andrews.

You know who I am?

Speak up, boys.

Police.

I'd rather you regarded me as... as someone who's here to help find who hurt your friend, Matthew.

What's your name?

Morant, Miss. Where I come from we use first names.

Harry, Miss. Well, my name's Barbara.

Now, Harry, um...

..we're trying to understand why Matthew was outside school.

We wondered if there was anything going on in school that may have

made him want to run away.

Can you think of anything, Harry?

Answer the police sergeant, Morant.

You don't have to answer if you'd rather not.

HE SOBS

He's a little upset, Sergeant. Harry and Matthew were quite close.

Just take your time.

There's no hurry.

Yes...this is all a terrible shock to them, Sergeant.

I think it would be kinder if we brought the interview to a close.

Don't you agree, Mr Corntel?

Yes.

It's all right, Morant. Thanks, Pritchard.

- OK? - Yes, will do.

Sir, I found out who Jeanie is from John Corntel.

Matthew used to visit a Jeanie and Colonel Bonnamy as part of the school's community service programme.

And it's run by the bursar, Cowfrey-Pitt. ..Oh, sorry.

Good. Well done.

I was just saying... Yes, we'll

check it out later. Why not now?

They've picked up a lorry driver whose tyre treads match the cast you had made in the lay-by. Any form?

Well, apparently not, but as my favourite instructor used to say at Hendon -

you've never got form until you're caught for the first time.

Did you find out anything from the boys? Er, not much.

One of them, Harry Morant, started to cry. I had to stop. Apparently,

he and Matthew were pretty close.

You can never tell how something like this will affect boys. About

Pritchard's remarks on Corntel...

You're thinking there's no smoke without fire? Well, I know

he's a very great friend of yours...

I said I'd deal with it and I WILL!

I can smell that! No-one comes into chapel any more unless they have to,

including the chaplain! I could assume the authority of my office and grass you up.

If I'm expelled, who's going to cram you through your A-levels, and into your father's glorious footsteps?!

Three months and we're out of here!

I prefer to take it one day at a time!

There's a little left if you want some.

Hardly MY opiate of choice.

Brian. Mmm?

Matthew Whateley...

I'll lead. You just do what you can not to embarrass yourself!

THEY PLAY "IN THE MOOD"

Shall I have first crack at him, sir? Me being a woman with the power

to make you lot reveal things.

All you've demonstrated is the ability to make a boy cry after one question. We'll do it together.

What are we dealing with?

A child murder. Torture.

We're dealing with the worst that there is.

When I come face to face with these men, I feel an

overwhelming sense of satisfaction

that I can do something,

shut them down,

stop them from inflicting such misery on anyone else ever again.

Is that why you joined the force, sir? Is there a better reason?

A few of the lads back at the Yard were convinced you had a thing for women in uniform.

Remind me never to bare my soul to you again, Sergeant.

Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.

All right, Barry, let's go through this again from the top.

How many more times?!

I didn't kill any boy.

I didn't SEE any boy. Then, why were you in Stoke Poges last night? It is not on your usual route.

I told you! I was tired and hungry. I thought I'd pull off and find a nice little country pub somewhere.

Not because you know there's a boys' boarding school there and you thought you might go fishing?!

If you stopped off at a little country pub, as you say,

why was your lorry parked in a lay-by, three-quarters of a mile from the nearest one?

I already said. After I had a bite to eat, I needed a kip. I'd been on the road all day!

So you thought you'd pull over? Yeah. Climb into your jim-jams,

pull closed the curtain on the inside of your windscreen, go to bed? Yeah.

Then, almost immediately, get up again? Yeah. Put on your clothes,

take a nice big bite of chunky chocolate,

and then go on your merry way.

Look, I didn't do this!

You see, Barry...

my sergeant here is very good at spotting liars. She's won trophies for it.

The worse the liar, the quieter she is.

If you notice, she hasn't said a word.

So why don't you do us all a favour and stop lying!

KNOCK AT DOOR

I thought you might like to see this, sir.

It's 11.27. Myself, Sergeant Havers, and Inspector Lynley are now leaving the interview room.

It's the preliminary path report.

Well, no signs consistent with sexual abuse.

Bruising and pinch marks

on arms and legs made prior to death.

Cigarette burns on palms of hands and soles of feet made after death.

Cause of death - possible strangulation? There's something he's not telling us.

Well, if he's not guilty, he'll open up soon enough.

Just let him stew for a while. All right.

You know, he didn't stop fiddling with his wedding ring throughout.

Begin.

What's going on, sir?

Looks like a rubbish trawl.

I found a cigarette butt, sir.

You don't have to tell me every time you find something.

Stop! Someone's coming over, sir.

Thank you, Arlens. I have eyes. Stop, John!

- He's saying, "Stop, John," sir. - And ears, thank you, Arlens. ..Stop!

Go and check out the Bonnamys. You think the chess-playing, dirty-old-man theory has legs?

It's staggering along with the aid of a zimmer frame. Right, sir.

They could clear away evidence. I'll get police supervision. Nothing is to be destroyed.

John, is there somewhere we could speak in private? Yes.

Hello. Lynley here. I need SOCO officers onto the playing fields.

This brings back memories.

Have you still got yours?

Knocking about somewhere.

To look at me now, you wouldn't think I could run ten feet, let alone ten miles.

We won everything that year, you remember? It was wonderful.

You know, it wasn't completely wonderful. Your father's death.

It was truly awful.

I've never forgotten what you did for me that year, Johno. I want you to know that.

I was your friend.

Not many friends pull you back from the brink - from the top

of a 30-foot wall you scaled at 2am,

drunk as a skunk, determined to throw yourself off. Well...

Which only makes what I have to ask now all the more difficult.

How serious you sound. When I was asking questions, someone made some

unpleasant insinuations about you.

Oh, God!

I get so tired of this, you know.

But I have to ask.

Is there anything untoward going on at the school, John, that I'm going to find out about?

A boy's been murdered. Quick, find the nearest poof. Is that how policing in the 21st century works?

I have to ask. When I called

yesterday, I thought you were the only person who could help.

I have to ask.

If you make me answer this, our friendship will never be the same. You do understand that, Tommy?

I am duty bound.

I'm a gay man.

If I have a relationship, it is with a gay man, not with a boy,

as you well know...Inspector.

This is Detective Sergeant Havers, Father. Good afternoon.

You didn't tell me she was a woman.

I understand that you and Matthew struck up quite a friendship. We did.

Was he very good at chess?

Better than me, that's for sure.

Despite the difference in our age, we were, in many respects, fellow travellers.

Both low-born, both rising in rank on merit alone.

Two street fighters, Matthew and I.

Did Matthew ever mention any reason for having to be a fighter at Bredgar Hall?

One way or another, they're all

fighting against the mould their parents try to press them into.

The cloning room, I call it.

Matthew was more resilient than most.

If I could just pick up on something you said.

You said, "Mattie was more resilient than most."

I get the sense from you that Matthew was struggling with something quite considerable at the school.

I saw a lot of it in the Army, Sergeant. I'm sure you must have

seen it in the police force.

Seen what, Colonel?

The new recruit coming in fresh.

Belly full of Queen and country. Does everything by the book.

Respects the rules. Assumes everyone else respects them

too, and then learns they don't.

Eventually sees something in the barracks they'd be wiser not to mention.

Decide where they stand. Defining themselves by their decision.

Their decision? Be a good little soldier, keep your head down.

Or lift it up and stare blatant injustice in the face.

A difficult enough moral dilemma

when you're 19 or 20, Sergeant.

Matthew Whateley was 13.

OK, boys, stand up, please.

As you were before. Spread out.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Come in.

The police would like a word, Bursar. Thank you.

Bursar, you deal with

the pupils' fees, is that right?

Yes. There's something that's been troubling me since I visited Matthew's home. Which is?

How could he possibly afford to come here? This place must cost between £15,000 and £20,000 a year.

Matthew was awarded an exhibition.

Not a full scholarship? A full scholarship would cover all his

fees. An exhibition covers a third.

That still leaves the remaining two-thirds uncovered.

How is this related to Matthew's murder?! Perhaps you could tell me

why it isn't?

Parents who want to send their children here can often scrape the fees together. You'd be surprised.

With Matthew's parents, I'd be astonished.

What on earth are they doing? I told them not to destroy anything.

It's just leaves. Burning black?

Matthew Whateley.

Havers, I want you to follow through on your hunch about

Barry. I think you may be right.

A little boy's lying cold on a slab, and all you can do is keep twisting that ring round and round?!

I didn't kill him. Really?

Then why were you parked so far from the pub? Why did you leave

the area in such a hurry?

OK. If you won't tell ME, perhaps you'll feel happier telling your wife.

She's here?! She's on her way. Right, if...

If I tell you what I was doing in that lay-by last night,

does she have to know?

If it's nothing illegal, Barry, it doesn't have to go beyond these four walls.

Salad, Pritchard?

All the steak and kidney was gone.

How was YOUR day?

Er...not good.

Me neither. I couldn't teach anything, really.

I just put on a video about the Aswan Dam to take their minds off...

You know.

Yes.

So Barry picked up a waitress at the Queens Arms and took her half a mile down the road for a quickie.

No wonder he didn't want his wife finding out. The way Barry describes

it, sounds like it's a perk.

I sent a constable to speak to the girl and she confirmed everything.

Good work, Havers. Thank you, sir.

So if Matthew wasn't killed by Barry, are we now saying he was killed by someone inside the school?

He was last seen alive inside the school, and he was found dead at Stoke Poges Cemetery.

Seems logical - if his clothes were found here, he was killed here, or hereabouts.

That would tie in with what Colonel Bonnamy was implying. Which was?

He said that Matthew was deeply troubled by something at school.

And I showed Jeanie the letter we found and I asked her about

the bit that Matthew wrote -

"Don't worry, cos the boy who saw me can't say anything."

Something struck me about that phrase.

I mean, not "won't" or "wouldn't", but "can't".

WHY can't he,

more to the point, and who's the boy?

Jeanie said it was Chas Quilter.

So Matthew had something on the Head Boy. I wonder what. I don't know.

If someone wanted to frighten him into keeping quiet, that'd explain the bruising.

But he wouldn't, so they killed him.

You all right, Mr Cowfrey-Pitt?

I was just thinking what a result it was for you, Mr Corntel -

having an old pal from Scotland Yard come down to do the investigation.

A result?

It would hardly enhance your career if it transpires that Matthew's death is in any way related to your,

shall we say, relaxed running of Erebus?

Every housemaster has their own style, Bursar.

Anarchy isn't a style, Emilia.

Anarchy is style's very antithesis.

Have you been drinking?

Go to hell!

I dare say we'll all get through this in our own way.

I think we are all aware what has happened in the last 24 hours.

With a police investigation under way, now is not the time for speeches...

..or even for a few words of regret.

Now is simply the time for us to mark the loss of one of our own.

I would ask you to stand for a minute

of silent respect.

Cocky little sod!

Who is that?

Who is that?!

It's Harry Morant, sir. Oh, my goodness!

This boy should go to the sanatorium.

I'll take him, miss. No, I'll do it.

Don't you ever get tired of shining so hard, Chas?

Toxicology report's just in, Mike. Not strangulation. Asphyxiation.

Asphyxiation?

Enough carbon monoxide in the boy's blood to kill a carthorse.

Carry on, boys. Take him to Matron. Tell her to give him a thorough examination.

PHONE RINGS

Hello? (..It's the pathologist.) What have we got?

Right.

I should let you know, Headmaster, I'm calling in a Home Office team to check all gas appliances here.

What?! Matthew Whateley died of massive carbon monoxide poisoning.

Any leak from school equipment, whether deliberate or accidental,

won't be difficult to trace.

I'll also need you to get a SOCO team. Where will YOU be, sir?

Around. Well, could you be slightly more specific, sir?

I'd rather not.

Well, that's all right, then(!)

John...you stupid, stupid fool!

Haven't you heard of knocking, Pritchard? Headmaster wants to see you in his study. What for?

I expect he'll tell you when you get there, Chas.

Need to re-stock? I'm fine.

Oh. Just looking after my best customer.

Off you go, then.

It's leaking pretty badly, Sergeant. If you sealed the room, the CO build-up would have been quick.

A boy would be dead in no time.

Pritchard?

Pritchard!

You click your fingers and I come running, Pritchard. What do you want?

Pritchard?!

You.

What are YOU doing here? You think Pritchard asked

to meet you all the way out here?

Why would you think that? Any conversation between us came to an end in my rooms.

Something's come up. Something else?

Do you know, I don't care?

Goodbye, Inspector Lynley. You lied to me, John.

Where did you get that?

You know where I got it.

The question is, what does it mean?

We need to know if you've heard of anything that might be of,

shall we say, an unsavoury nature?

Anything, in other words, we may need to be in a position to deal with before it becomes public.

Unsavoury nature, sir? Before it

becomes public, sir? It's our duty to limit the damage to the school.

Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

We all know that John Corntel gives you a free rein at Erebus, Clive.

Sir? The extra bottles of beer at

the weekend he turns a blind eye to. The smoking in the house common room.

What might he receive in return?

You broke into my rooms and ransacked my things?!

Bluster and inflamed grievance won't do. My investigation needs

a full and satisfactory explanation.

A full and satisfactory explanation?

Satisfactory for whom, exactly?

These photographs aren't about a gay man having a relationship

with another gay man,

but a schoolmaster obsessed with a schoolboy.

Obsessed?!

Have you been in the force so long, you see everything through the jaded eyes of a copper?

Not obsession, Tommy...love.

Love.

Go on.

His name was Hugh.

He joined the school

in the lower sixth, after his parents had been posted abroad,

and I took him for English.

Without engineering anything, it was clear something was developing between us.

But I was equally clear that nothing - are you listening? - nothing would happen while he was a student here.

There's pictures of him lying naked in a hotel bed.

Taken in the summer following his first year at Oxford.

He was 20 years old.

A straight man could have fathered half-a-dozen kids by the same age

and no-one would have batted an eye!

I didn't ask you here to debate the issue. Maybe not. But the real reason you can ask me these questions

is because someone in my position can still be destroyed by a worm like Clive Pritchard.

Again Clive Pritchard. Why did you assume it was Clive who told you to come here?

Because he's the only one who knew about me and Hugh -

a position of privilege which he

ruthlessly exploits to his advantage.

You expect me to believe, John, that someone like you is in the pocket of someone like him?

Do you imagine for one minute I allow Pritchard the run of Erebus out of choice?

You kept your mouth shut. Good move. What choice did I have?

If I told them about your addiction, that'd be you as a barrister up in smoke. Your parents must be proud(!)

Mutual assured destruction kept the world safe for 40 years, Chas.

Safe and terrified. Works for me.

'Owzat!

You and Matthew were pretty close, weren't you?

Did you used to help each other with your homework - that sort of thing?

If I'd had someone to help me with my homework, maybe I wouldn't have ended up in the police force.

Did, um, you and Matthew ever share things?

Not like sweets and books and stuff,

but I mean like...like secrets?

Or problems that either of you might have been having at school?

I did. Matthew did a bit.

A bit? He'd tell you stuff about schoolwork or a teacher that was getting on his nerves.

But he kept the really private stuff for his diary.

His what? His diary.

Well, um, when we looked through Matthew's things this morning, we didn't find a diary.

When he first came to Bredgar Hall, Matthew wrote one.

Hopeless in a place like this, cos someone will just find it and read it, no matter where you hide it.

Most boys give up within a few weeks.

Matthew wasn't like most boys.

If the boiler is leaking, it's because it's been tampered with.

We trade on our heritage here, we don't heat the school with it.

What's more important, absolving the school of any responsibility or finding out who killed Matthew?!

Thank you, Harry, I'll see you later.

Sad little thing, isn't he? Harry found it very difficult

to adjust in the beginning.

He was picked on. I was pleased when Matthew took him under his wing.

Will he be here long? He'll be back

in the dorm before lights out.

Thanks for your help. Not at all.

..Come along, boys. Come on.

Well? Not here, sir.

Why all the cloak and dagger stuff? I didn't think you'd want it made

common knowledge. What?

What Harry told me. What did he say?

Matthew kept a diary. We found nothing in his room. Not a written diary, an oral one - on tape.

I repeat, we found nothing...

Sir? What is the safest place to keep a private diary about what goes on at school?

Try knocking again, Sergeant. She might not have heard it with all this rain. You do have hands, sir.

You can also knock. Indulge me. I'm in the mood to delegate.

I'm coming.

'It happened again as soon as we turned the corner.'

A few dirty plates piling up, Patsy.

Plates?

Do you mind if I have a go?

Boys.

Everyone brushed their teeth?

Yes, Pritchard.

Yes, Pritchard.

Morant? Yes, Pritchard.

I didn't see you, Morant. Go and do it again.

Lights out now, boys.

You found them? He sent them disguised as compilation music tapes so Mum and Dad wouldn't get curious.

Intelligent and meticulous.

Are we ready to leave? There's just the cutlery to do. If you dry, we'll be out of here in two minutes.

Everything OK? The carer must have gone home, and, depending on her

mood, Mum won't answer in the dark.

Why don't you pop back and make sure everything's OK? You can catch a cab later. No, I don't think so, sir.

It only needs one set of ears to listen to the tapes. I'll be fine.

I'm going to take you back.

Thank you, sir.

Mum!

Mum?!

Oh, my God!

THUDS FROM ABOVE

Mum! Mum!

Mum! Shoosh! Shoosh! It's all right. It's all right.

I was looking for...

What were you looking for? Something.

Looking for Dad again?

Was I?

Dad's in the hospital, Mum, remember?

Hospital?

'Tuesday March the third...'

Matthew - we meet at last. 'Had another letter from home.

'Mum missing me as usual. Dad's usual PS.

'Strange to think they're only 30 miles away. Half an hour by car.

'Three minutes by jumbo jet, less than a minute by Concorde...

'Harry dropped his plate in the dining hall this evening.

'I think Harry's got that thing, like dyslexia, only with objects...

'..He gave me a Saturday morning detention, but you could tell it was for the parents' benefit...

'I did my bit - "Sorry, sir. Won't happen again, sir".

'Happened again as soon as he turned the corner. Won't have to do the detention cos he didn't take my name.

'Apart from Chas and the other prefects, I don't think he knows many of the rest of the boys.

'Brian calls him The Spiv cos he spends more time with new parents and investors than with the boys.

'March the tenth. Harry's other problem is still continuing.

'I thought of going to see Mr Corntel,

'but he tells us to see the senior house prefect first.

'Well, I can't do that, so I went to Chas Quilter, who said to leave it with him.

'I think Chas is the nicest prefect. I can see why he's head boy.

'Some people go power mad. Chas isn't like that.

'He's going to Cambridge. I'd like to go there if I'm clever enough.' TAPE REWINDS

'I've been to see Chas four times now. Each time he tells me he'll sort it out, but it's never sorted out.

'I don't care if he is a prefect. What he's doing is wrong.

'After asking Colonel Bonnamy about a hypothetical similar situation,

'I've decided to tell Chas about

the recording I made in the bathroom.

'It's the only way to make him stop. I'll go to the police if I have to.'

What recording in the bathroom?

PHONE RINGS

What recor...? There IS no recording in a bathroom!

Lynley.

When was the last time he was seen?

BANGING ON DOOR

Havers!

Havers!

Havers?

Harry Morant's disappeared in the night.

Hey - slow down! Wait for me.

What more can I do? Tell me where I find the hours, the extra hours I can work to get the school past this?

How can I move this institution beyond the murder of two pupils?!

One boy murdered. One boy missing.

If Morant's disappearance is almost identical to Matthew's, what makes you confident the outcome won't be?

Why do you want the local boys out in force?

Whoever's doing this is like a kestrel plucking mice out a field. What's the best way to catch a bird?

Your lot generally blast them with a 12-bore, sir.

Alive, Havers. What do you do if you want to catch a bird alive?

A net, sir? A net, Havers.

Sergeant Havers to all units. Go!

SIRENS APPROACH

MUFFLED: Help!

Help!

On the board, Sergeant. What's going

on?! If Morant's alive in the school, he'll know he hasn't been abandoned.

And whoever abducted him and killed Matthew will worry about their fate.

Help!

All units in position and ready to move, sir. Give the order, Sergeant.

Havers to all units. Move now.

Inspector, may I remind you this is still a functioning school?

Functioning? First and foremost,

Headmaster, this is a crime scene from which no-one may leave.

Come along! Come along! You and you, with me...

If there's no key, kick it down.

Quad drive blocked, sir. I want

to speak to Chas Quilter as soon as possible. I'll have him fetched.

Arlens, bring me Chas Quilter. Go on. Yes, sir.

If you're suggesting that my head boy is mixed up in this, you are going

to look very silly indeed.

I'll take that risk.

Nothing in the cricket pavilion, sir.

Were you aware that Matthew Whateley repeatedly asked Chas Quilter for help in the weeks before his death?

Help that Quilter said he'd give, but didn't.

On what matter? A matter so important

to Matthew to resolve that he was prepared to blackmail. Blackmail?

Search!

According to his diary, Matthew saw Chas snorting cocaine. Cocaine?

You weren't aware of the cocaine use?

Of course not.

Or that a prefect was blackmailing his housemaster into letting him run his house as his own fiefdom? What?!

- Swimming pool clear, sir. - Hang on... - What exactly WERE you aware of?

I don't have to take this. ..Bursar, I'll be in my quarters. Yes, sir.

Inspector.

Sergeant.

Oi, watch where you're going!

Arlens shouldn't be long. I checked the dates of your inscription on Matthew's copy of Paradise Lost.

So? Why give a disadvantaged student a book two years PRIOR to his becoming a pupil at Bredgar Hall?

Chas?

Chas? >

Chas!

I knew Matthew before he came to Bredgar Hall. I taught his father.

Tony Whateley came to Bredgar Hall? Tony isn't Mattie's father.

Mattie's father was a very gifted young man by the name of Eddie Hsu.

Eddie Hsu...? I know that name... It was up on a plaque in the library.

Scholar... Friend...

And father.

Eddie had a clandestine affair with a local girl, resulting in a pregnancy.

Being impeccably decent and unrealistic about what was involved,

he wanted to give everything up.

And stand by her.

Given his dazzling future, that was simply out of the question.

With not inconsiderable financial inducement, I managed to persuade the girl to...have a termination.

The girl was Patsy Whateley? Yes.

The day she went to London, she wrote to Eddie, explaining my... help, and begged forgiveness.

Eddie was found dead later that night.

His wrists slashed.

The overwhelming sense of betrayal.

At his funeral, I decided I was unfit to teach any more.

But Patsy had the baby. She couldn't go through with the termination.

I eventually found her... Gave her money...

To help bring up Matthew. How could I not?

Admin blocks cleared, sir. You paid

for Matthew to come here? You paid the other two thirds of the fees.

He had his father's intelligence. It was being stifled where he was.

'Young Matthew was drowning.'

It was my duty to save him. It ended in his death.

Sir! Quilter's door's locked! But I could swear there was someone inside.

This way.

The door at the end.

"Matthew came to me as head boy.

"Instead of doing what he had every right to expect of me,

"I thought only of what I stood to lose, and did nothing.

"I tried to fulfil expectations, but I've let the school down.

"I have let my father and family down. But most of all, I've let down Matthew Whateley and Harry Morant.

"May God forgive me.

"Charles Quilter."

We need some men over here, Sergeant. We've got a body

in a room needs sealing off.

I don't want anyone connected with the school knowing what's happened

until I say so. Yes, sir.

Mr Cowfrey-Pitt.

Mr Cowfrey-Pitt?

How many prefects are there in Bredgar Hall? 16.

In total.

I'd like to see the remaining 15 in the school library in 10 minutes.

Could you tell Inspector Lynley the post has just come? It's something he'll want to see.

Shh...

If you're not a prefect, return to your form rooms. Prefects, remain.

George!

That's Calchus House clear, sir.

Out, out... Bush, come on.

(They know. Don't cack yourself, Pritchard. They can't know.)

Where's Chas? I heard

they took him to the sanatorium.

(Do you think he's said anything?) They'd have to kill him first.

What do you think Patsy's package is, sir? Matthew's last tape.

Another one?

One he must have posted just before he died.

The one someone killed him for. That's area 3 cleared, sir. Still no news on Harry Morant.

We need a name. A name will lead us to Harry Morant.

'Who are you?! Dirty Harry. Why are you dirty?' It's Harry Morant, sir.

'Because I smell. What of? Please... What do you smell of?! Please, Pritchard...' Pritchard! Let's go.

'What do you smell of? I smell of weakness. Louder! I smell of weakness...'

Right, you're all free to go.

What did I tell you?

Except Clive Pritchard.

Caution him, please, Sergeant. John, I'd like you to stay. Yes.

Pritchard has the right to an "appropriate adult" present. I can't think of anyone more appropriate.

Where is Harry Morant? I don't know. Clive, where's Harry Morant? Look...

Um...Morant is one of those boys

who let the rest down at every opportunity.

They have, er, no discipline.

No guts. No character. He couldn't even look after himself.

It was up to me, as his senior house prefect, to do something about that.

Put some backbone into him. And you equate bullying weaker boys with character building, do you?

Adversity is going to be his life. I was teaching him to live with it.

Matthew made a tape of you teaching Harry his lessons, didn't he? Yes.

And then he told Chas about that tape to make you stop. Or he'd hand the tape over to the police.

Yes? Yes. To whom he would expose not only your bullying, but also Quilter's cocaine habit. Am I right?

Chas told you about the tape to make you stop. But Chas never

really cut any ice with you, did he?

And you weren't going to be pushed around by Matthew Whateley,

so you went after Matthew to get him to hand the tape over to you. When he refused, you went to town on him.

Punching him. Kicking him. Yes? Torturing him. Yes?

Yes. Yes. And when he still wouldn't give you the tape, you panicked.

No. Suddenly, you had a boy on your hands known for not shutting up,

now covered with bruises.

You do the next logical thing - you kill him. No!

With Matthew gone, the only person left to snitch on you is the person

Matthew died trying to protect.

You take Harry Morant from his bed and dispose of him

or keep him somewhere until you think it is safe to do so.

Now, I'm not going to ask you again, Clive. Where is Harry Morant?!

Look... Look...

You have to believe me. Yes...

I roughed up Whateley for the tape. I took him to the fives court after dark and I tried to scare him.

He wouldn't tell me where it was, so I threatened him and left him gagged

and bound for an hour to think.

When I came back, he was dead. He was asthmatic. He'd had an asthma attack. But that's not murder.

Matthew didn't die of an asthma attack, Clive. He must have.

Matthew died from carbon monoxide poisoning.

What...?

You believe him? You saw his face

when I mentioned carbon monoxide.

Cop for the small crimes, and avoid having to cop for the big one. I don't buy it. He was really alarmed.

The carbon monoxide was something new.

If I go down, I'm not going down

alone. Save your breath, Clive.

I'm immune to you. Oh, really?

My resignation's been handed in.

What? I feel sorry for you. I don't want you to feel anything for me.

Whatever I am, I was born that way. But you?

No-one is born a vicious sadist. Someone or something has made you that.

Which was it, Clive? Someone or something?

Oh, piss off!

When I leave this school, I hope I'm going to be missed.

With you, I think people will just close their eyes and try to forget.

If Pritchard is to be believed, between Clive leaving him in the fives courts and coming back,

Matthew died of carbon monoxide poisoning. In the fives courts.

The fives courts...! Fives is played on a court, similar to that of squash, but without the back wall.

They are not enclosed, consequently not susceptible to a build-up of gas. But they keep their van there.

If it wasn't Pritchard...? Someone else wanted Matthew dead. He was a threat to Pritchard and Chas Quilter.

That just leaves Chas. Or someone who wanted to protect him. Sir?

Boarding-school friendships are like those between people dependent on one another to live. Like the army?

Precisely. Boys in dormitories. Living under strict rules. Knowing who you can rely on is vital.

ENGINE STARTS

Help! Help! Help!

Help! Help! HE COUGHS AND SPLUTTERS

Who would it be for Chas? Who would be prepared to commit murder to safeguard Chas's future?

Sir... The van!

They can't be looking to leave - the drive's blocked. He isn't slowing

down. Quick, Havers! The school gate.

What do you mean, "Quick, Havers!"? He's in a bloody van!

We're not going to make it. The road

block might slow him down while he summons courage to go through it.

Get behind the van. We'll try and stop him at the gate.

He's taken out two of our units. Get the other two units now. We need back-up now!

I can't breathe. If we can close the gate before he gets there,

we may have a chance.

HE COUGHS

Oh, thank God. ..Sir?

You look after the boy.

You all right?

It's over, Brian. You can stop now.

Chas is dead.

Tell me that's not true. I wish I could.

But I can't. We found him in his room. Hanging from the water pipe.

Killing Matthew didn't free Chas, as you'd intended. It simply added

another pressure to his life.

How much did Chas know about what you did for him? Nothing. It was my idea for Pritchard to get the tape.

But when he came upstairs in a blind panic saying Matthew was dead, I couldn't believe it.

So I went down to the fives courts to see for myself. He wasn't dead,

but half-conscious.

He kept saying he was going to bring us all down. Especially Chas.

He just wouldn't shut up, and that's when I had the idea to put Matthew in the van and connect up the hose.

Once he was dead you returned him to the fives courts and got Pritchard,

laying it on thick that it was he who'd, in effect, murdered Matthew.

Now whose idea was it to mutilate the body and then cover it with paint? Pritchard.

He thought if we made it look like a weird ritualistic killing it would divert attention from the school.

I didn't set out to kill Matthew. I just couldn't see any other way.

What about Harry Morant? Was there no other way for him? I didn't want to hurt him...

But there was no turning back!

No turning back...

Not winking now, Clive.

PHONE RINGS

Barbara Havers.

It's too intense, John. Life in these schools,

closed off from the outside world.

The pressure to succeed. To conform. To play by the rules. And if you can't - or won't -

the consequences can be lethal.

I agree.

What are you going to do? Hmm? Another school?

I think I've been in school long enough, don't you? Hiding from the real world among the desks in class.

It's a nice life. It's a good life.

But it's increasingly felt like a small life.

Good luck, John. Good luck to you, Tommy.

Will you ever forgive me? If...

WHEN I do, I'll send you a postcard.

I can't tell you how pleased I'll be to leave this place. Could we just stop for a minute, sir?

Three days ago, I had to drag you here, and now you don't want to go.

I just had

a call from the hospital.

My dad died an hour ago.

I'm sorry to hear that, Barbara.

Oh, we were never close, but...

Yes.

Yes, you said.

Nothing I want to go into.

Subtitles by Subtitling Unit BBC Broadcast - 2002

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