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It's five and 20 past, My Lord.

Atkins, am I in the habit
of being late for a sitting?

No, My Lord.

And is it not customary for
the judge to be the last to arrive?

Yes, My Lord, I was merely
wanting to point out...

Oh?

I was merely wanting to point out,
My Lord,

that you're meeting Miss Sarah
from the train at Marylebone,

and an early start might well...

I think I get the point, Atkins.

Very well.

Let battle commence.

Thanks again for coming down
for the weekend.

It was very sweet of you.

I'm sure there must've been hundreds
of things you'd rather have done.

Oh, don't be silly, Sarah.

Besides, if I'm to be
Matron of Honour at your wedding

next Saturday, the very least
I could do was meet the groom.

And do you know, it's simply years
since I last saw the judge.

Idiot!

- Sorry about that.
- That's OK.

Listen, this business in Reading
with the boys won't take long.

You sure I can't give you
a lift to London?

No, it's OK,
I've got to get this train.

Daddy's meeting me at the other end
and giving me lunch

- before I go to the sale at Harrods.
- OK. What are you buying?

- Linen and things.
- Linen?

- Bedlinen.
- Ah.

Must dash, Harriet,
or I'll miss this train.

OK, bye.

- See you next Friday.
- See you Friday.

Weddings.

London return, please.

First class,
er, could you make that first class?

I don't think there's any need
to detain you, My Lord.

If perhaps I could have a very brief
and informal statement...

- No, you may not.
- I beg your pardon, My Lord.

You may not have a statement

until Chief Superintendent Spikings
gets here

and personally takes charge
of this case.

Sorry, sir, I don't quite follow.

Then let me spell it out for you,
Inspector Wilson.

Unless I get Spikings here,
and bloody fast,

I shall phone the Chief Constable.

Spikings.

It seems a long time
since Malaya, sir.

Yes.

A lot of water under the bridge.

Out of one jungle into another.
Hey, sir?

Yes.

You saved my life then, Spikings.
Yes... yes, you did.

I'm going to ask one more thing
of you.

Find my daughter's killer.

So, er, how was your weekend
with the judge and his daughter?

Oh, it was fine.

I just wish I hadn't agreed
to be Matron of Honour.

- You want some?
- No, thanks.

I have breakfast at the normal time.

Hey, can we get that coffee
over here?

I wish you wouldn't do that.

The service here,
it's like low to no.

I'd like my coffee with this meal.

- Would you do me a favour?
- What?

I want you to write down something
for me.

What do you want me to write?

Four adjectives
describing your ideal vacation.

- What for?
- Just do it.

- Why?
- Come on, will you just do it?

Four adjectives
describing your ideal vacation.

Hey, those beans get here
from Colombia yet?

Coffee, por favor?

Jeez.

How you doing?

- I've done them. Now what?
- Let me see.

No.

Come on, will you?
Let me see what you wrote.

No, I won't.

You got to let me see.

Don't be ridiculous.
Let me see what you wrote.

I don't trust you.

Let me see.

What's the purpose of this?

Well, I busted a shrink once...

and he told me
that these four adjectives...

tell you how a person really feels
about sex.

Makepeace...!

You're disgusting.

Me? I didn't write those words.

No calls to this office
for the next 15 minutes.

Right...

if everybody is sitting comfortably,
I'll begin.

Earlier today,
a young woman was raped.

During the course of the rape,
there was a struggle...

and the young woman suffered
multiple stab wounds.

From which she has since died.

The preliminary medical examination
puts the time of death

at approximately 11:20.

The incident occurred
in a first-class compartment

of the train from Banbury
to Marylebone.

And the time of death indicates
that the attack took some place

somewhere between Bicester
and High Wycombe.

The assailant
could have left the train

at any point during the journey...

or, if he had the courage...

could have waited
till he got to Marylebone.

A train worker opened the door...

and the body of the young woman
fell onto the platform

in front of her father...

who was waiting for the train.

He's an old friend of mine,
as it happens.

Sir Lionel Hackett.

Two hours ago,
I received a telephone call

from the Home Secretary.

Sir Lionel insists
that this department

handle the bulk
of the investigation.

There are no witnesses,
no fingerprints,

and no other information

until an autopsy
has been carried out.

The coroner's inquest is going on
at the moment. Er...

What the bloody hell is going on?!

Put me through to the
Chief Constable, would you, please?

Er, yes, Sir Lionel Hackett.

Thank you.

Oh, hello, Douglas.
Erm... yes. Yes, thank you.

Yes, it is my great loss,
my most... bitter tragedy.

Douglas, erm, I want to ask
a great favour of you.

And as a father of daughters
yourself,

I'm sure you'll understand
why I'm asking it.

I'm OK, really.

Look, if you don't wanna
get involved in this case...

I'll understand.

What do you mean?

Well, if we're gonna get involved
in this...

...you've got to forget
that you knew Sarah Hackett.

You've got to think like a cop,
not like...

Like a woman, Dempsey?

I think it's time you and me
had a swift chat, Duchess.

Ten minutes, OK?

Make it five.

No, like a friend.

You gotta stand back...

...and forget
that she was your friend.

Can you do it?

Yeah.

Telephone, sir. Coroner's office.
Sounds in a bit of a panic.

Spikings.

He did what?!

Why?

Should I have a word with him?

Well, I can't say I blame him,
but it doesn't make it any easier.

OK.

Trouble?

Yeah, his Lordship has bent
the Chief Constable's ear,

who's gone onto the coroner,
who's put a hold on the autopsy.

Why?

The old man doesn't want
her "got at" any more.

We must just hope
that the forensic boys

can get the info we need from
the carriage and from her clothes.

God knows we've got
little enough else to go on.

Get onto them, will you?

See what they're doing.

Do you remember anything?

When you dropped her off
at the station.

No, I just drove up...

...she got out of the car...

...I offered to drive her to town
but, er...

...she said she had to meet
her father.

And I drove off.

Do... do you know what she told me
over breakfast this morning?

She said that...

the biggest worry
was her wedding night.

Cos she was still a virgin.

God.

All right, try and... remember.

When you dropped her off
at the station...

did you see anybody?

Run it back in your mind.
Visualise it.

Dempsey. Don't give me
that police cadet crap.

- You OK?
- Shh.

A round face. Er, sort of chubby.

It's close, not quite right.

Moustache!

- He had a thick moustache.
- Chas?

Call the editor of The Standard,

ask him to hold the final edition
front page

- till we get a photo to him.
- Right, Guv.

It's 3:15 now...

He'll hold it till four,
but he won't like it.

Tell him if he runs it before
we get the stuff to him,

I'll push that photofit
where a photofit doesn't fit!

Glasses.

He wore square glasses.

That's him.
As near as dammit, that's him.

Right, Chas, get 200 copies of that
run off at the double.

We've got a face.
God knows who, but we've got a face.

- Who is it?
- It's me, Mum.

- Let us in, I can't find my key.
- Drunk, more like.

Look at the state of you.

Have you been driving the car
like that?

I'm all right, don't you start.

One of these days, you're gonna
kill someone driving like that.

If your father was alive,
he'd knock some sense into you.

'..Of a man they would like
to interview in connection'

- 'with a murder that took place...'
- My God!

- What are you doing? Leave it!
- Leave it, leave it.

Leave it.
It's nothing to do with me.

That picture,
that picture was of you!

'Sarah Hackett,
the daughter of Sir Lionel Hackett,

'the High Court judge...'

So you've finally done it,
haven't you?

Not content with exposing yourself,
you bloody well killed someone!

And the judge's daughter too!

He knows you!

He employed your father for years!

Oh, John.

You're not right in the head.

I've always known
you're not right in the head!

Shut up! Just shut up, will you?
I didn't do it!

Mum?

Mum?

'We leave you with the artist's
impression we showed you earlier.

'The man police are anxious
to interview

'in connection with the murder
of Sarah Hackett.'

- Harriet, my dear. Come in.
- Sir Lionel.

- I'm sorry.
- No, don't say anything,

it's...
it's too soon to say anything.

Er, this is Lieutenant Dempsey.
He's on loan to us from New York.

- We work together.
- How do you do, Lieutenant?

Evening, Judge.

Are you involved in this?

Gordon Spikings is our senior
officer, I thought you knew.

No, I had no idea.

Good heavens.

Oh...

And you're American, are you?

Sure am.

Good heavens.

We were wondering
if there was any chance of, er...

The autopsy, Judge,
we need your permission to have...

No, no autopsy. I won't allow it.

I don't want anyone else
near my daughter.

Judge... you don't seem to realise,
you're tying our hands here...

Don't tell me what I realise,
Lieutenant.

I've spent a lifetime
with criminals.

Judged them, defended them,
prosecuted them.

My daughter's been raped.

She put up a fight and she's been
stabbed to death with the weapon

that was intended
to make her submit.

Must be witnesses? Must be clues.

Must be clues.

Somewhere in that...
revolting chain of events...

will be the murderer.

And it's your job to find him.

But you'll find him without putting
any more knives to my daughter.

Sir Lionel, when I, er,
dropped Sarah off this morning,

there was a man going
into the station.

He may not even have got
onto the same train.

But at present,
it's all we have to go on.

Do you recognise him, sir?
We think he's a local man.

No, I'm afraid I don't.

- Can I... can I keep this?
- Yes, of course.

I think we ought to be going.

If you want to talk, Sir Lionel,
you know where we are.

Good night.

Good night.

Bye, Judge.

Just our luck.
Ten minutes to knocking-off time

and some Charlie goes by
with no lights on.

"Evening, Judge"?

"Goodbye, Judge"?

When you know a High Court judge
personally,

then it's possible, just possible,

to address him
as "Sir whoever he is".

When you don't know him from Adam,

it's more usual to address him
as "My Lord".

My Lord, my...? Hey, you Brits
and your protocol, you know.

Ha!
Sometimes your insensitive behaviour

makes working with you unbearable.

Yeah?
Lemme tell you something, sister...

Never mind, never mind.

Who does he think he is anyway, huh?

"My Lord" should know
how much information

you can get off a corpse.

He's her father, that's who he is!

She was getting married
next Saturday.

She was going to London
to buy bedlinen.

And she was my best friend!

For God's sake,
why can't you understand that,

you stupid bastard?!

Evening, Sarge.
Take him through, Colin.

You timed that one well.

I trust you've got nothing on
tonight.

As it happens, I have, Sarge.
Could I make a quick call?

Why, is it a long job?

Well, he's a bit on the cusp.
A bit iffy, if you know what I mean.

We might have to get the doc in
for a blood test.

And you've got something
lined up, right?

Yeah. I'm all set with that bird
from the gas showrooms.

By the time I get through here,
she'll have cooled off.

- Where does matey come from?
- He's local.

He used to go to school
with my elder brother.

He's a bit, erm... you know.

Chas?

The names and addresses
of all those people on the train.

How many have we got so far?
214, sir.

And how many have been cleared?

Well, they're spread around
all over the Home Counties,

but the response so far,
particularly from the TV,

has been terrific.

Trouble is, we'll not know
how complete the passenger list is

until we get the figures
from British Rail.

And even they won't be
totally accurate.

Why is that?

Well, some of the passengers bought
tickets from the travel agent,

British Rail won't know until the
agent sends in their month's return.

No, thanks, Guv.

And a proportion of the passengers
may have season tickets.

We've got no way of telling
whether they travelled or not.

British Rail have got a record
of all season-ticket holders?

Yeah, but most of those
season-ticket holders

travel in the rush-hour.

To and from work.
There'd be thousands of 'em.

Get 'em.

What, all of them?

All of them.

If you can just sign there for me.
Thank you, sir.

And that there is your blood sample.

Which you're quite at liberty
to have analysed privately.

However, if you would just also...
sign this one for me.

Thank you.

Now, I'm afraid we have to keep
your car in the car park tonight.

But you can come back for it
in the morning.

Why's that?

Because you're still over
the legal limit, sir, that's why.

But these officers can run you home.

Oh, no, that's all right,
I'll get the bus.

He says he'll get the bus, Sarge,
give us a break.

I'll get the bus.

Your evening of unadulterated lust
is quite blown away, Constable.

So be a good chap
and drive Mr Bates home. OK?

OK, so you're convinced
the guy was a local.

I'm not convinced about anything.

It's not beyond the bounds
of possibility

that he was no stranger to Sarah.
Sarah was a local girl.

- Good evening. Can I help?
- Evening.

Detective Sergeant Makepeace.

We're working on
this morning's murder case.

Oh, yes. Sarah Hackett.

We're expecting a photofit
some time this evening of a suspect.

I got 'em right here.
Only, he's not exactly a suspect.

He's the only positive ID we have
of somebody

who was on the railway station.

We don't know for sure
if he was on that train.

This is my partner, Lieutenant
Dempsey, from New York.

- Partner.
- I use the term loosely.

Ha-ha!

Yes, well, I can't say
it rings any bells.

It's funny how these things make
everybody look like a criminal.

Oh. Now I see why you English
like your tea so much.

Purely medicinal,
you understand, Lieutenant.

- To keep the cold away.
- Yeah, in summer.

Well, it's quite common
in this part of the country

to get these sudden snaps of frost.

- Even in summer. Cheers.
- Cheers. Cheers.

- We're off, then, Sarge.
- Ah, Constable, let me introduce you.

This is Detective Sergeant Makepeace
and this is Lieutenant Dempsey.

They are from SI10.

Come on, Dempsey, time we got
ourselves to the railway station.

Sarge, who's that?

That, Constable, is the only
long shot we've got to go on.

- Why, do you know him?
- I don't know. It's the moustache.

- What do you think, Colin?
- I was thinking...

- It's Bates.
- Bates, who's Bates?

We pulled him tonight,
a drink-drive charge.

- We've just taken him home.
- You took him home?

Are you running a cab service here?

- Its usual practice, Lieutenant.
- You think that may be him?

It could be,
but Bates doesn't have a moustache.

- So his car's still here, then?
- Yes, sir.

- Can we take a look?
- Sure.

Thanks.

Makepeace. Take a look at this.

Sarah's.

Ah!

Mm.

Bates.

Is she dead?

No. I don't think she's here
out of choice.

Check upstairs,
I'll call an ambulance.

Dempsey!

What?

- What the hell is that?
- I think it was a moustache.

Morning, Guv.

You been here all night, sir?

Lists... names and addresses.

Categorised by postcode,
age, sex, profession.

Big Brother is watching you, Chas.

- But no John Bates.
- John Bates?

Mm. That's Makepeace's photofit.

Purely by accident,
nothing to do with detection work.

So why do we need the lists
if Bates is our man?

Ah, he might not be, that's why.

No, it seems pretty certain.

They found Sarah Hackett's wallet
in his car.

I don't think there's much doubt
about it.

Now, I want all these names
and addresses

- put in to our system three.
- That'll take forever, Guv.

- Alphabetically.
- Alphabetically?

Yeah. Starting with A.

Now, I'm going to get a shave,

then pop across the road to the cafe
for some necessary cholesterol.

Do not disturb.

- So, what now, brains?
- Don't ask me.

I don't know the difference
between a number four bus

and a number 11 iron at the moment.

How the hell did Bates
give us the slip?

They'll find him.
Unless the judge finds him first.

You really think
Sir Lionel's after him?

After him?
He's gonna nail him to the wall!

Well, it would save
the taxpayer thousands.

But I don't think it would do
Sir Lionel's career much good.

Well, it ain't gonna do
Bates' career any good either,

especially
if he ain't the right guy.

- Come on, do me a favour.
- Do me a favour,

give me one fact that ties Bates in
as Sarah Hackett's killer.

Concrete evidence.

Exactly.

What we need is some proof.

- And I know how to get it.
- Oh!

Autopsy.

Dempsey, that's been squashed.

What was the name of that doctor
you busted two weeks ago?

Dr Robertson. He's on bail.

But I don't understand.

I know.
This is what we're gonna do...

You and me
and your junkie doctor friend

are gonna pay a little visit
to the morgue.

Hi.

- He sure is.
- What do you want?

Dempsey, this is crazy.
Look at him, he's flying.

Well, he's about to land.
Doc, you alone,

or did we interrupt you
during surgery hours?

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,
have you got a warrant?

I don't know.

Lemme look. Have I got a warrant?

Listen, you,
if I searched this place,

how much junk do you think
I'll find, huh?

We're gonna need coffee, black.
And lots of it.

Doc's gonna eat cold turkey
for a day,

and then we're gonna make a deal.

I'm gonna phone my lawyer!

Try again.

Good evening.

Er, this is my partner,
Lieutenant Dempsey.

We've come to carry out the formal
identification of James Desmond.

Hit and run.
I believe he came in this afternoon.

Oh, this is Mr Robertson,
his next-door neighbour.

That's him there.

I suppose that's the Hackett girl,
is it?

No, she's been filed.

Right, then, Mr Robertson,
I warn you,

there's not a great deal left
of him.

Urgh!

You see? You have to ask yourself
why they hire these people.

Broads just can't handle this stuff.

Listen, would you mind taking her
outside for a little fresh air?

I'd appreciate it.
And I'll finish up with him. Thanks.

OK, Miss. If you just hang onto me.

OK, Doc, let's find her.

I'll watch the door,
you do your job.

Make it quick, come on.

Well, how do you like it so far,
Doc?

- I think I want to go home.
- Yeah, I know how you feel.

First, we got to check out
those specimens.

Oh, yeah, yeah!

Where the hell do you think
I can get specimens tested

- at this time of night?
- Doc!

Listen, if we can get
in and out of a morgue,

getting into a hospital lab
ought to be a piece of cake.

Oh, no.

What happens if we get caught?

I'll arrest you for breaking
and entering.

I don't like it.

- You want to leave?
- No!

Yes!

So far, so good.

So far, so good?

- I need my head examined.
- Mm.

Well... you've got two results here,
which may be of some significance.

Now, the first is that the smear
I took from the victim...

...proves that either the victim
or the rapist had syphilis.

- You can't tell which?
- No, no.

No, all that we can tell
is that the disease is present.

- Sarah was a virgin.
- So Bates has got a dose.

What's the second result?

Well, the second result is a little
more specific than the first.

The haematology that we did
on the blood

shows that there was a raised level
of hCG.

- Say that in English.
- Erm... human chorionic gonadotropin.

It happens sometimes in males
in their early 20s.

Now, the blood taken from beneath
Sarah Hackett's fingernails

came from someone suffering
from that disease.

Bates is nearly 40.

If any of this comes out in court,
I'll deny it, OK?

I got it.

Right, everyone.

Drop whatever you're doing
and pay attention.

Chas, we have what might be
described as a change of direction.

Have you put all those names
on disc yet?

Yes, sir.

Right, the bloke we are looking for
is in his early 20s.

He's got hCG,
that's a rare form of cancer.

He's also got a dose.
So here's what we do...

I've got a crosscheck.

Where's the cross-reference?

Riddled with syphilis.

Dempsey, get on
to the stationmaster.

Yeah. You've got a Thornton,
a William Thornton, on your staff?

VD clinic near Marylebone.

Harry, get onto the clinic,
find out when he was last there.

When was that? Yesterday?

And what time was the appointment?

Where does he work?

Would you believe, Chalfont Hill.

Can you tell me what he was doing
yesterday?

That's terrific. Yeah, thanks.

He was on the same train.

He's also got a record.

And the presiding judge was Hackett.

There is someone up there,
I saw a curtain move.

- You sure?
- Mm-hmm. Try the bell again.

Sure.

Let's go!

Argh!

You ever get that feeling
you're not wanted?

Often.

Stupid!

Easy, Dempsey!

I'll call an ambulance.

You're lucky she's a lady.

- Where's our beloved leader?
- He's not here.

Gone off down to Sir Lionel
Hackett's house in Chalfont Hill.

- What for?
- Sir Lionel's housekeeper phoned

and reported
that she's just discovered

that one of the judge's shotguns
is missing.

Sit on the chair.

No.

Sit on the chair, or I'll shoot you
for the dog that you are!

Now...

We'll start again, shall we?

Spikings!

I think you recognise
the prisoner in the dock.

I think that's far enough,
Sir Lionel.

Stay where you are, Spikings!

You can't take the law
into your own hands like this, sir.

The law's gone soft, Spikings.

You know it.

And I know it.

It must be done.

Easy!

Sir Lionel,
we've got Sarah's killer,

he's admitted everything.
This man is innocent, believe me.

Bates... did you kill Sarah Hackett?

No, sir.

I'm sorry about this, sir...

...but I'm afraid I'm going
to have to take you in.

You've been a good friend to me,
Spikings, over all these years.

Somehow, I went off the rails,
didn't I?

It's nothing a good brief
can't put right, sir.

I reckon they'll put you out to
grass, if you see what I mean.

Doesn't matter
what happens to me now.

Nothing will bring Sarah back.

More's the pity.

Yes, sir.

Come on, then, sir.

Come on, you two,
don't sit there all day.

We've got a murder, two bank jobs,
a jewel heist,

and a gangland war at the office.

And it's still only Monday.

The man is subhuman.

Actually, he's very upset.

- Now just a minute, sir.
- Yeah!

- Dempsey and I are going to bed.
- Yeah?

- Separately.
- Was it something I said?

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