All language subtitles for Vera - 1x01 - Hidden Depths.HDTV.RiVER.en

"Ru home yet? XXX"

"Where ru? Had a great night XXX"

Hiya.

Luke?

Laura?

What you doing?

Luke?

Luke, son!

Luke...

Luke.

Son.

Luke darling.

Luke!

Vera
Season 01 - Episode 01

ITFC Subtitles
Sync: Marocas62

Based on the book "Hidden
Depths" by Ann Cleeves

Two minutes
of your life!

He doesn't deserve this,
you know. No-one does.

You never met him.

No. You're right.

I just didn't know
who else to ask.

Yeah, come here, come here.
Just give us it here.

Howay, then.

Thanks, love.

Should we say a
prayer then or what?

- You not coming, then?
- What?

No. I'll just...

Come on.

You're all right. I'll just...

Here.

- Yeah.
- Drink up.

Cheers.

Glad that's over.

Why this place?

Dad always liked a full breakfast.

Hello? Chief Inspector
Vera Stanhope.

Vera?

Time of death?

Midnight, give or take...
God.

And again.

- Thanks, love.
- You're welcome.

When I find the bugger
who gave me this cold...

Pardon me.

Well, there's one
mystery cleared up.

Say hello to your wife
and kids for me, Billy.

How old is Jack now?

His name is Raymond.

So...

we've ruled out suicide?

Evidently.

Thin abrasion round the neck.

Strangled? A wire or what?

Skin's not broken, so unlikely.

Some kind of thin rope, I imagine.

So not drowned?

No, death was moments before
the body entered the water.

I'm speculating...somewhere in the
house.

Then carted in here and dropped in
the tub.

Not dropped.

Placed. Precision.

And those flowers?

Shop-bought...? Oh, no.

They're wild flowers, must be.

Meadow flowers.

- We'll need an expert.
- OK.

Nice-looking.

Luke Armstrong.

15 last April.

Almost look younger,

don't they, after...

OK, erm.... Home alone, the lad?

No. Laura, kid sister.

She was in there...

Right.

Entry? Our killer?

Kitchen window open, apparently.

That was usual, was it?

Leaving the window open?

Well, her daughter's asthmatic.

So...

the killer comes through the window.

- Prints?
- Partial footwear impression.

Must be some kind of walking boot?

Yeah, looks like it.

What about the girl?
She must have heard something.

Spark-out apparently.

Asleep? And we believe that?

Teenagers. Believe anything.

Should do nicely, for publicity.

I'll have a word.

And mum?

Where's mum?

I should phone the
school, should I?

- Is that what you do?
- It's all taken care of.

Right.

Mind how you go there.

I know he was down in
the dumps lately, but...

Julie,

your son...

didn't take his own life.

OK. Ready to move the body.

Right. Come on. Let's take
ourselves off for a bit.

Come on, pet.

I got home...

must have been 11:30.

Bus or taxi?

Yeah, it was a bus. Gary...

he works on the sound
desk at the Sage.

- Your fella?
- Aye.

Well, he had to get back and

help out after the show, so...

he left us at a taxi
rank at the Quayside.

I'm a bit short, to
tell you the truth.

I didn't want to seem like
I was begging for a handout,

so I waited till he
wasn't looking, then I...

- Ah, right. You got the bus instead.
- Aye.

Anything catch your
eye? Cars? Faces?

There was a jeep kind of thing
at the bottom of the street.

- Jeep?
- Yeah.

- You mean a Land Rover?
- Aye, that's it.

Colour?

Green...

brown maybe.

If I'd drunk a bit less,

kept a clear head, then maybe...

You said...

Luke had been a bit down lately.

Aye, well, he's... Luke's very...

He was...

very sensitive.

I know we always say
that, don't we, but he...

he was.

But why now in particular?

Well, his friend Tommy

drowned in the summer and
Luke, poor lad, saw it happen.

- Tommy Sharp?
- Aye. Aye.

I kept telling him,
'Son, it's not your fault.'

Do you think, if I'd just
waited for that taxi...

No. Don't do that.

20 quid from the Quayside to Blyth,
it's not even...

I don't deserve kids...

I don't.

My beautiful boy.

I'm sorry.

Oh, God.

What happens now?

You try to get some rest.

If you remember anything at all,
you've got my number.

Aye.

What's he doing here?

Gary?

I'm so sorry.

- Hiya!
- Mum!

How are you? You all right?
Did you have a good day?

- Good?
- It was good.

- Did you get on well?
- I don't know.

- No, have you not decided yet?
- No.

You must be James's mum.

Hi. Yeah. Felicity. How you doing?

- I'm Lily Marsh.
- All right?

I'm James's new teacher.

- Oh, yeah.
- About the beach hut?

What about it?

- He did tell you, didn't he?
- What's that?

James, I don't believe you!

I'm sorry. It's just
we were talking in class

about where we all lived
and I happened to mention

I was in between digs, you know,

and James here pipes up and
says you were after a tenant.

You cheeky monkey.

Well, you know, I don't know.

You're not after a tenant, then?

Well, we have talked about
it, I suppose, you know. But...

I'm so sorry, I should
have called direct.

If I run. I might
still catch that bus.

No, no, listen, you know.

I expect we can fit you in
our busy schedule, can't we?

- Really?
- Jamie?

Come on!

Open up!

Jamie, the key's under the mat.

Here.

On the head.

Oh, sorry.

- It's very nice.
- It's peaceful, you know.

A lot of privacy if
that's what you're after.

So there's sitting...

area,

shower, fridge, all mod cons.

Thank you.

You're very kind,
letting me in like this.

You're welcome.

Beautiful flowers.

I always love roses, don't you?

OK. Rise and shine.

Holly, what were they?
Shop-bought or what?

Gathered by hand, according to
Forensics.

But I spoke to a botanist
at the uni an hour ago.

He's tied up for the rest of the
day,

but I described them over the
phone and he said that they were -

Wildflowers, found in every
ditch in Northumberland.

Basically, yeah.

15 years old.

He was targeted. Why?

Anything at all?

His head teacher said Luke

had learning difficulties.

Got behavioural reports
going back a year or two.

OK. He was bored. Bit lost.

Wrong postcode for dyslexia.

Dad's in his grave.

Mum's hanging off her hinges,
worships the bones of him.

And someone climbs in the window,

strangles our lad
with a length of rope,

and then places him in a warm tub

like some poncey
installation at the Baltic.

And then there's his
class mate. Tommy Sharp.

- Tommy Sharp.
- Davy's lad.

Oh, look. It woke up.

Tell 'em, Joe.

Tommy drowned four months back

whilst playing with
our victim by the sea.

Coroner's verdict: misadventure.

Now, no blame was attached to Luke.

They were class mates,
best friends apparently,

and according to one eyewitness

they were playing peacefully.

Tommy got carried out by the
current, Luke went in after him.

He was lucky not to drown himself.

Charlie, blag a copy of the coroner's
report.

- Will do.
- And then comes the memorial.

Same place as Tommy drowned... Joe.

Flowers on the water.

They're not wildflowers.

No, they look shop-bought to me.

So, are the flowers on Luke

some sort of homage
to this other lad?

Or revenge? Reprisal?

That's a question
I'm hoping to put...

..to this man.

It's Tommy's father. Davy Sharp.

Walked out of prison nine days ago.

Been off the radar ever since.

'Your characters...

"are more real...

"than anyone except...

"I suppose...

"Because, under...

"..made it kinder.
What was I thinking?

"He would count it a blessing...

"..if I fell under
a bus.

"But I will not go quietly."

Let me out!

Let me out of here!

Please! I can't breathe.

Help me!

Oh, Dad.

This is where he was spotted
the last couple of days.

Hello, Davy.

What you doing here?

Your family's worried sick.

This one of Tommy's
old haunts, is it?

His name was Thomas.

I need to talk to you

about your son's
friend, Luke Armstrong?

I'm afraid he died Thursday night.

Murdered in his own bed.
What do you think of that?

- How did they kill him?
- A length of rope.

You were angry with Luke
for your son's death.

It's all in the report.

Thomas Sharp slipped
and fell in the water.

His best friend Luke
tried to save him,

but he drowned anyway.

Still... Life goes on, eh?

A neighbour just told my sergeant

that you were seen
spying on Luke's house.

He never told his mother, like you.

He didn't want to frighten her.

What were you
following him for, Davy?

I wanted to hear him say
that he tried his best.

Ma'am.

Hey! Don't you touch that.

What were you doing
on Thursday night?

- Thursday?
- Anyone see you?

- Vouch for you?
- Hey! Get your hands off that!

Don't you touch that.
I want yous out of here!

I want yous out now!
Get out!

You'd better arrest him, Joe.

He could do with a decent meal.

There we go.

I think it's a ring ouzel.

It's a blackbird.

Ring number 64.

Full female.

128.

There you go.

- Cheers!
- Never.

No, it's true. One year to go.

It's not like it's a trade secret.

Right...

- What do you think, Jim?
- It's brilliant.

It's not just any clock.

You've got to wind
it up to the hour...

- Gary's idea.
- I can see that.

Chaffinch. Chaffinch?

Song thrush.

Well, that is...

And every hour
it's a different garden bird.

- ..obscene.
- Just what you always wanted.

Peter?

It's not much. It's...

It's a paper bag. Very promising.

Did you do this?

We all look half our age!

Well, we were.
It's from an old Polaroid.

It's our first ever trip. Do you
remember?

- Up in Skye.
- Yeah.

Skye.

Thank you, Clive.
Where do we hang it?

It's a shoo-in for
the outdoor khazi.

- Very funny.
- He's just jealous.

Oi, where are you sneaking off to?

- Nowhere.
- I'll come with you if you like.

No, Gary, you stay put.
Don't go too far, my love.

Mum!

Dad!

Mum!

That's our eyewitness.

James Calvert, aged nine.

One for you, I think.

Lily Marsh was his teacher.

- What?
- At the local school in Hepworth.

She ever teach Luke Armstrong?

There's no chance. She
was only there six weeks.

Part of her training, apparently.

What the...

Hey!

Get off! Which one
of you dozy dickwipes

came up with this brave notion?

Nobody touches the body
till Forensics get here.

That's what they said.

Get Billy Cartwright on the phone.
Now!

Better?

Now, that is moist.

Aren't you clever!

Thanks.

That was a stroke of luck for us,

your lad chancing on the victim.

It's one way of
putting it, I suppose.

One more hour,
she'd have been swept out to sea.

Yeah.

Mind you, the boys were going
to walk up to the castle, so...

I suppose someone would have seen
her.

- How is he?
- Just gone down.

Really?

- My little boy.
- He'll be OK.

A thing like this, though, you just
don't know what goes in, do you?

Jamie adored her.

I saw her, you know.
She was here yesterday.

- You never said.
- Yeah.

She'd heard about the beach hut

and she came to the house.

I was waiting to hear from her.

- I'm going to go and see him.
- Sweetheart, he'll be fine.

I'll just be a minute.

Dr. Calvert...

You ever meet the victim?
Through the university, perhaps?

I'm Botany.

Wrong end of campus.

I think your sergeant
said she was

studying English, wasn't she?

What a thing.

There's still time to
go down to the castle...

- ..if we're all done here.
- That's not really on, is it?

No?

Sorry.

So, just to be clear none of you,

gentlemen, had ever met the victim?

Gary's the lady's man.

He's joking.

I thought I knew
your face.

Yesterday morning you
were waiting outside

Julie Armstrong's house.

Yeah?

What time did you get up here?

Today?

It'd be about two o'clock,
was it?

I've been at work all morning.

So, what? I mean...

You work at the Sage
Gateshead,don't you?

That's right. I was
devastated about her boy.

She's none too bright herself.

That one yours, is it, sir?

Yeah, how did you know?

Mind if my lads have a nose inside?

No, if it helps.

- Thursday night.
- What?

You spent the evening with Julie.

Then dropped her at the taxi rank.

Aye, yeah. I fancied a walk.

She was under the impression
you had to get back to work.

Was she?

No, no, I...

It was a big night. It was a lot to
take in.

I just needed to clear my head.

21 years of age, no kids yet.

She had all that ahead of her.
A waste, don't you think?

So, she was in the water,
what...?

A minimum two hours, but she passed
her last breath earlier still.

- When?
- 10, 10:30 yesterday morning.

She died elsewhere.

I imagine she was dragged. See?

Same as Luke.

Carried over the rocks
from the car park?

A strong fella.

But the last sighting
of her was 10:30?

Yeah. The night before, leaving

the Crown Posada in
the centre of town.

What happened to her overnight?

She may have been confined.

Incarcerated. Any idea where?

I found paint flakes
under the nails.

Could be the boot
of a car.

Land Rover?

Couldn't say.

- Same killer?
- Same murder weapon.

Or similar. A thin rope.

You recall these contusions
round the victim's neck?

And flowers? Those we could save.

Heather, thrift, rock rose.

Again, picked not shop-bought.

- A match?
- Yeah.

- I suppose that rules out Davy Sharp.
- For this poor lass.

He was with you, wasn't he?

Not that I want to tell
you your job, but...

Good for you.

Somebody make some
sense of this. Joe?

A teenage boy, trainee teacher...

never met. Never spoke,
as far as we know.

Both nice-looking, blonde.

I don't suppose there was any...

you know, interfering.

Sergeant, you're a gentleman.
No, no sign of sexual assault.

Although,

I imagine the young lady was...

dressing up for someone.

He's off in a hurry, isn't he?

Now here's Julie...

..pretending to get a taxi.

A couple of drunks.

Should be ashamed of themselves.

Here's Gary, minding
his own business.

Here he comes.

Now he's running. He's in a hurry.

Why he's such a hurry?

Now, where are you going?

As far as Gary knew,
she was getting a taxi.

I mean, how was he to know she
was getting the slow bus home?

He texted her twice
on the way of home

asking her not how she
was, but where she was.

What's this? Are
you pulling a sickie?

I'm on leave. I'm supposed to be.

The head's engaged.
We're not even packed yet.

For the hospital.

Plus the mother-in-law's
turning up

at five with a case
full of ravioli.

Lucky old you.

Look at that.

I think they're waving at you.

Come and say hello.
They won't bite.

Another time, perhaps.
I've got that much paperwork to do.

More interviews. An all-nighter
I expect. You go on. Go.

You make the most
of your family time.

Listen, I could send
them to the cinema.

- We've two hours, max.
- Well, if you think

you could manage it, pet...

Here.

- What's that?
- For the cinema. Take it.

You're very kind.

That wouldn't even buy
the popcorn.

What's this got to do with Gary?

Probably nothing at all.

You shouldn't do that.

You shouldn't put thoughts
like that into my head.

Gary is a good man.

This lass,

- have you ever seen her before?
- No.

No, I haven't.

Laura?

- Who is she?
- Is she familiar at all?

I almost forgot. This letter came.

Here.

Condolence?

No, it's addressed
to our Luke. See?

They've got the
address wrong, you see.

20 Alba Street instead
of 20 Alba Terrace.

When did it come?

It was yesterday I think. Was it?

What do you think?

Innocent enough.

How much rent was she paying?

£580 a month.

Steep for a trainee teacher.

Posh end of town.

And she was moving out, was she?

Not according to the flatmate.

But she was behind with
her rent, apparently.

So why the sudden urge to move

into the Calverts' beach hut...

..the day before she died?

Listen, not much longer.
We're just finishing up here.

OK, head off. Enjoy your half
day.

- You're very kind.
- I know.

Yeah, just one or two things...

He's local.

It's unsealed, so there's
no trace of saliva.

Smart-arse.

Same as Luke's.

Two down.

Who's next?

Ma'am?

I thought I knew his name.

Samuel Parr, local author,
one of the birdwatchers.

Hi, is Julie there?

Julie?

It's Gary.

Sorry?

Yeah, can you put her on?

I just said, didn't I? She
can't come to the phone now. Bye.

Thanks, love.

Thank you.

Did you write this?

Shop signing.

It's how we shift books these days.

Standard issue. Total bollocks.

Yeah, the ideal reader is
one who leaves you alone.

'Keep in touch'?

Hang on.

There's an outside chance
she's in here somewhere.

It's fan mail.

Daft as it may seem.

I don't know what
they expect from me.

Lily...?

Marsh.

Are you sure you've never met her?

She's not my sort at all, if
that's what you're getting at.

Then how do we like
our women, Mr. Parr?

You'd be surprised.

These letters...

..you ever write back?

Seldom even read
them, to be honest.

You're not tempted,
all that devotion?

My vanity is more specific.

Certain people, certain times.

This the wife?

Late wife.

Sorry.

That's OK.

Paid to snoop.

Here we go.

Anything good?

I've yet to see them fully clothed.

I thought you told
us they were farmers.

That's what my dad said.

Poor sod.

Probably couldn't bring
himself to utter the truth.

Nothing he hated worse
than being laughed at.

Where did he...?

Where did he what? Cook?
Clean? Wash his knickers? What?

Where did he die?

In that chair.

I'm joking.

First landing.

Who found him?

Nobody.

Listen, you're not serious about
wanting to move up here, are you?

He's only been gone two minutes.

Six weeks.

All it wants is just
a bit of tidying up.

Speaking of which, come here.

There's an evil smell, and I
can't get the bloody door open.

So you want me to have a look?

Well, seeing as you're here.

There's two kinds of birdwatcher,
Joe.

One lot, ganning
about with their pagers

and their funny little lists,

along comes a bird,
not even a rare bird...

You see 'em out on
the hard shoulder,

bins out, mouths open,
dead to the world.

The other lot...

Dad's lot,

dragging me out of
bed seven years old,

half asleep in the back of the car

while he's up a tree

stealing eggs off some raptor.

It was never enough just to
look. He had to tear it apart,

see how it worked.

He was a bully.

Or maybe he was just scared.

Scared of dying alone in a big empty
house.

Did you get a chance to say goodbye?

I don't think goodbye
would have covered it.

What's that?

Mist net.

It's what they use to trap migrant
birds.

Take it up to the lab, will you?

- A murder weapon?
- It's standard equipment.

Still, there's no harm in asking.

So we're back onto those witnesses,

Peter Calvert and his groupies?

This is not some pet prejudice.

She was put in that rock pool

for them to find.

I'm sure of it.

What?

I'm just saying...

it's the first murder
since your dad passed away,

and it's all about birdwatching.

Maybe it is about birdwatching.

What?

That was quick.

No, hold on, I'll come with you.

Smart girl, Holly.

Hard work and an open mind.

I was just the same
when I was her age.

Right. Course you were.

Mr. Craven's a... What is it?

A psychiatric social worker.

She was the most beautiful
girl I'd ever seen.

So why dump her, Mr. Craven?

Well, too much, too young.

Plus, I needed to
focus on my A-levels.

So I pulled the plug.
I tried to, anyway.

Lily went off at the deep end.
There was letters, e-mails.

She scared me half to
death, to be honest.

She was obviously having
some kind of breakdown.

I think she was even
in here for a spell.

These corridors
must be teeming

with your cast-offs, Mr. Craven?

- Not really.
- Friday night.

Can you account for
your whereabouts?

- Friday...
- Oh, erm... I checked.

He was here all night and

the next morning,
weren't you, Mr. Craven?

So Lily was obsessive,

clingy. That's got to be useful.

- Take a look at these.
- What are they?

Letters. Lily Marsh to Samuel Parr.

I can't think why. He's no Tom
Clancy.

She seems to have been seeing someone

up to a couple of weeks ago,
an older man.

- OK.
- And get Charlie

to chase up how she was
paying the rent, will you?

This boy friend, you're
thinking sugar daddy?

Yeah, it would make sense.

Have you got any
ideas who he is, ma'am?

I'm drawing up a shortlist.

OK.

What's Joe up to today?

Sin bin.

Keeps him sharp.

Joe.

And there, sir. Right, cheers.

Registered to a Mr.
and Mrs Blakeworth.

Unlikely suspects,
seeing as they got back

from Tenerife two hours ago.

- Prints? Forensics?
- No, no prints.

Paint flakes in the boot.

Lily Marsh, was she in the boot?

It's not confirmed,
but it looks like.

And?

They found this,
back seat.

Mist net.

Item: One stolen Land Rover.

- Mist net.
- Possible match for weapon.

Ruling in our confederacy
of birdwatchers.

Lily Marsh.
Where are we at with the older man?

There's no names in the letters to
Samuel Parr,

but she talks about him in the first
letter.

- 'Generous and kind,' she says.
- Dated?

Six months back, April 17th.

Two weeks later she's in the posh
flat.

Joe. Money?

There's between 400 and 600 quid

going into her account every month.

Cash deposits, before you ask.

The last one was
£300, six weeks ago.

Six?

So older man ends it.

Or tries to.

And we know Lily didn't
take kindly to being dumped.

What else in those letters?
Any mention of Luke Armstrong?

No.

So what's the link?

Luke and Lily. Anybody?
Daft as you like.

Gary Wright?

We've already ruled
out his Land Rover.

- Aye, but he loves the women.
- Who doesn't?

Maybe he's at it with Lily.

He moves on to Julie.

Lily wouldn't let go.

What, so he murders her?

Heather.

Autumn hawkbit.

A bit of wild sorrel.

Nothing you can pin down
to a particular place?

No,

pretty bog-standard
this time of year.

There's no significance
you can see?

As in?

Well, the choice of flowers,
the arrangement?

It seems like...

they're laid out...

for taste more than anything else.

Taste?

Yes, presentation.
The look of the thing.

I see.

You'd need to ask Felicity.
She's the real gardener.

Good for you.

A strong marriage.

Those friends of yours
must be dead jealous.

Hardly. I'm forever
farming her out.

She reads all Sam's stories,

and dishes out tea and sympathy

when Gary's latest
love affairs go south.

I expect Gary has the pick of
them, does he? His line of work?

I don't think it's half
as glamorous as that.

Look, I really must get started.

Is this what you call a full house?

These days, yes.

Right...

- She sent you alone?
- Aye, just the once.

Let me guess.
Issues around delegation?

You know that thing she
does? The country hick thing.

Doesn't fool me.

Had Peter fooled, though.

He's no fool in that picture.

No.

Look how his eyes follow
me around the room.

They do, don't they?

As if rebuking me for my
idle thoughts. (CHUCKLES)

- That's Clive for you.
- Clive?

Artist, stray dog, son that
never was.

Mind you, Gary's no better.

He's a bit rock'n'roll,
is he, Gary?

It's one way of putting it.

They both sulked for
years when I showed up.

And what about Samuel Parr?

Sam?

Sam's a bit more normal.

So,

Detective Sergeant,

what can I do you for?

The young woman who died, who was
interested in your beach hut.

I don't know, that was
just a mix-up, I think.

She said that Jamie, my son, had...

How's he doing?

- He's getting there.
- Good.

Thanks.

You see, the thing is, that er...

There's no evidence she planned

to quit her flat,

so I wondered if you thought she
was ever really serious at all?

- About?
- Moving up here.

Not especially.

No, I don't.
In fact, I almost wonder

if she was just checking us out.

Maybe she'd had a
row with her boyfriend

or flatmate or...

I don't know.

- Well?
- Well, what?

- Did she ravish you?
- Oh, just the once.

She had some interesting
things to say about you.

Mr. Stringer, how are you?

You certainly put
the wind up Peter.

Called ahead, did he?

Just now. I shouldn't mock,
should I?

Good friends, you and Dr. Calvert?

The best. And Felicity.

Point of fact, these past months...

Well, my mother, you see,

she's been under the same roof...

well, all my life.

- She's not been well?
- She forgets.

You go on making
excuses for them, then...

I wake up, middle of the night,

3:08 it was, front door wide open,

frost on the windscreen,

and I finally track her down.

83 years old.

She's waltzing up the central
reservation in her night-dress.

- Nightmare.
- And Felicity

drove me round all the homes.

And she gave me the courage

to see I wasn't
letting anyone down.

So it's just yourself now,
then, is it, Mr. Stringer?

Well, I've been keepping over

at Peter and Felicity's when
I'm not staying at Sam's.

I find to my horror that I'm...

I'm not much good
at living alone.

I-I know. Certifiable these days.

Hardly.

You too?

It's not for the
faint-hearted, is it?

No. No, it's not.

How about Gary Wright?

You're not tempted
to sleep on his sofa?

The state of his flat?

My immune system couldn't
take the beating. Besides...

Well, it's like Clapham
Junction in there.

- Blondes, brunettes, redheads.
- Oh, lucky fella.

Are you sure you've
never seen her before?

Gary didn't take her home,
maybe from a club or...?

I don't think so.

Would you tell me if he had?

Why are you bothering with all this.
We were just witnesses.

How about...

Luke Armstrong?

That one...

Thomas Sharp. A waste of a life.

He grew up round
the corner from us.

We didn't think much of the family.

Mum had the police out a couple

of times on account of
all the noise, but...

Thomas was canny enough.

- Where will you go?
- Wherever the wind takes me.

Davy, this anger you've got,

it's not the only way
of keeping hold of him.

I will not believe that
Thomas just fell in the water.

- He had a father who loved him...
- Don't.

Don't think you can just fix it.

- I can't see straight without him.
- No, I know. I know that.

I open my eyes, and
it's all black and white.

Like one of his bloody pictures.

Go on.

I'm not eating that.

- It's off.
- Suit yourself.

Off, my arse.

Don't fall for the big lie.

These cakes will last
for weeks. Hold that.

- You're mad, you are.
- Not mad, I'm cheap.

- I love these.
- Yeah?

I'm told Thomas was
never without his camera.

Only none of his family
seem to know where it is.

I hate having my photograph taken.

I always look so clumsy, somehow.

Me too.

You look very relaxed here.

And here.

Thomas put you at
your ease, did he?

I suppose.

You were very close,
you and Thomas?

Yeah.

Do you miss him?

Yeah.

- Your mum know about the pair of you?
- No.

Please...

We only did it the once,

please don't tell her.

None of my business.

I really need to find
that camera, though.

- I haven't got it.
- But you know where it is.

They had a fight.

A fight? Thomas and your brother?

Yeah.

The camera went in the water.

And Thomas...
jumped in after it?

So that's how he drowned!

- Trying to save his camera?
- That's what Luke said.

He made me swear not to tell

or he'd blab to Mum.

About you and Thomas?

What were they fighting about?

Luke wouldn't say,

but...

Go on.

All I know is, Thomas showed
me these pictures on his camera

a few weeks before he drowned.

There was this couple,

you know...

So he'd been peeping,

had he, with his camera?

Every Friday afternoon.

He was laughing,
like it was so funny.

And he said, did I
want to come and watch?

He said he had a plan.

'A bit of a laugh', he said.

- What kind of laugh?
- I don't know.

And did you...go with him?

I'm not a pervert.

This couple, in the photographs,

did you recognise them?

She was really pretty.

Lily Marsh?

Maybe, yeah.

Lily Marsh in the
photograph? Are you sure?

Well, I think so.

Her mouth, you know.

And what about the man with her?

- I'd never saw him before.
- Old or young?

Old?

I-I don't know.

The photos were all blurry.

Blurry?

Can you stop...?

Can you stop the bus, please, mate?

Thanks.

So maybe that's why
they were fighting,

- the day Thomas drowned...
- Well, I don't know, do I?

I've worn you out, haven't I?

- I keep thinking...
- About...?

Yeah.

In your home?

Yeah.

I keep thinking that
if I close my eyes...

Right.

My own daughter's next
in line, is she? Come on.

- Go on, pet.
- Come on.

Nothing's clean, is it?

Everybody's tainted.

I'd hate to be you.

I'd hate to be
trapped in your skin.

You're poison.

I need that camera!

You're hardly going to find
it here. It's been months.

It'll be halfway to Denmark by now.

It's our best link yet,
Lily Marsh in those pictures.

The two boys, Luke and
Thomas, behind the lens.

Lily Marsh and the older man
out here, somewhere, "al fresco".

Hi, Joe, it's me. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Desk jockey.

I'm just checking
what we're looking for.

Black SLR zoom lens, right?

Guess what I'm looking at.

Found 12 weeks back by
a Mr. J Edwards in Blyth

and it's been sat in
Lost Property ever since.

You trust me?

Don't you?

Is this the same model as Thomas's?

Be careful with it.

Forensics want it back tip-top.

- What's up with you?
- It's Wednesday, isn't it?

Wednesday. The due date?
For the baby?

You know, I was there for
Michael, but I missed Jessie.

It's just nice to be
around, be... you know.

I tell you why
it's blurry.

At the end of the zoom,

no matter how firm you hold it,

the image starts to shake. Right?

So, if Thomas was crouching here...

Let's have a little look.

- Mum!
- She's off gallivanting.

Bye, Gran.

When you showed Lily round,

did you get the impression it was
the first time she'd been there?

- How do you mean?
- Did it seem familiar to her?

How would that be possible?

What do you do on
Friday afternoons?

- I beg your pardon?
- Do you have a regular appointment?

Yes, I do. I teach
art, Hepworth library.

- What? What does it matter?
- I need your permission

to search the beach hut. I
want everything cordoned off,

- the whole site.
- Of course.

- But why?
- Where's your husband now, Mrs. Calvert?

At work. I don't know, he's, he's...

Left at the crack of dawn, and...

Why...why do you need to know?

We think there's a small chance
it's where Lily Marsh died.

Come in.

It's probably nothing at
all, but you did say...

Anything at all.

Can I just say,

I feel so stupid,
yelling at you like that.

I had it coming.

Sometimes I just get
lost in the chase.

You should hear 'em at work.

They think I was raised by wolves.

- Here it is.
- Don't touch it!

Sorry.

Seem to spend half
my life wearing these.

Not very fetching, are they?

- When did it come?
- This morning, I think.

Just some silly prank.

Did you call Laura on her mobile?

It's switched off.

But she got off to
school all right?

Yes. Well...

I-I think so. I...

I erm...I only got
back half an hour ago.

You stayed the night at Gary's?

Yes.

And... does Laura...

- take the school bus?
- Aye.

That's good, that's good.

We'll just call, make doubly sure.

I told you, her
phone's switched off.

- No, the school. Have you got the number?
- Right. Sorry.

Yeah, it's programmed on the phone.

She's forgotten her inhaler.

We've got another card,

addressed to Laura Armstrong.

And she's missing, Joe. Didn't
turn up for school this morning.

Get yourself down there,
talk to the school friends.

If we're lucky, she may have
taken herself off to the shops.

And get Calvert in for questioning.

A 14-year-old
girl appears

to have been abducted this morning,

our last circumstantial
witness to the fact

that Lily Marsh and an older man

had sex in your beach hut

every Friday afternoon

while your wife was away at her art
club.

- This is insanity.
- So, this morning?

I told you,

I drove to the campus at
eight, opened up the department.

I'm a key holder. It's on the bloody
roster!

Do you consider yourself an important
man?

A successful man, Dr. Calvert?

- What kind of a question...?
- I Googled you.

Height of impertinence, really.

'Made a notable contribution

'to British botanical
studies in the '80s,

'but more recent work

'is generally regarded
as a consolidation.'

Now I'm guessing...

that's bad, is it?

The consolidation?

Three cheers for the early promise,

but, oh, all those half-empty
lecture halls,

bored skinny girls texting

their boyfriends.

- You gonna just sit there?
- Was it standing room only,

he was back in the day?

Remind you, my client is
here of his own volition!

And along comes Lily.

Oh, I bet you were
more than flattered.

- What nearly-man wouldn't be?
- OK. We're done here.

We'll be in touch.

Interview terminated 11:05.

It's only her second
day back at school.

Maybe the sight of all
her friends all at once,

maybe she couldn't
face it,

and thought, 'I'll go for a walk'.

- You think that's possible?
- Until we learn more,

I think there's every chance.

And when she gets back, she's
gonna want you there on duty.

- No excuses.
- You are going to find her, aren't you?

Julie, you remember I showed you
a photograph of a young woman?

- On Sunday I showed you...
- Yes, yes.

Well, we believe she
was having a relationship

with a married man, an older man...

..and that your son

and Tommy Sharp witnessed
them and took photographs.

Laura saw those photographs.

Now,

we think...

the boys approached this man...

I'm sorry, it's a lot to take in,

but if there's
anything, anything at all

you know or you've heard...

Get somebody to give Julie
a lift home, will you?

Sure.

Don't you worry.

'Dirty bastard.'

'Dirty little bastard.'

At Thomas's memorial.

Down by the sea?

Yeah, aye, he was in a right mood.

Our Laura turned round to him and
said,

'You can't talk about
the dead like that.'

But he said that he wasn't
talking about Thomas.

He was talking about some fella

he'd just met at the memorial.

The man was at the memorial?

That's what he said.

- Did you see him?
- No.

Did Luke say who the man was?

No.

Where is she?

Bathtub, rock pool, what next?

Bodies of water. Think.

Rivers, ponds, waterways,
get everybody onto it, Joe.

Just down there, sir.

I want somebody on
those tyre tracks.

Right, ma'am.

Davy...

I don't understand why he'd want to
hurt Laura.

I don't think he was
trying to hurt her.

I think he was fighting to save her.

We've found a girl's shoe, ma'am,

but no sign of a body.

Julie.

Now, Julie...

..we want just a simple...

yes or no.

It's my bairn's. It's my bairn's!

No, no. Come on, Julie.

It's OK. It's all right, Julie.

- It's all right now.
- Is she in there?

It's all right now.

Come on.

It's all right. Come on.

Lily's ring...

bought on your
credit card.

Look, all this...

it'll destroy my wife.

Where is she?

- Where's Laura Armstrong?
- Who?

OK.

You and Lily fell passionately
in something or other.

- Yes.
- TGI Friday in the beach hut.

- Yes?
- Yes.

Until the rose lost its bloom,

the less you wanted,
the more she needed.

- Yes. Yes.
- Threats, pleading.

Oh, don't look now, she's only
got a job teaching your child.

- Yes.
- You must have been...

Terrified, yes.

- Marriage not safe.
- That's it. That's it. That's all there is.

No. Thomas Sharp. Luke Armstrong.

Two lads taking photographs

- of you and Lily...
- Photos?

Did they swear in
like a pair of Mafiosi,

demanding hush money?

Of course Thomas drowned. Stroke of
luck.

- What are you talking about?
- You were there to see him off at the memorial.

'Dirty bastard!' That luke

- called you.
- What memorial?

- I was never at any memorial.
- You were there!

- Luke saw you! He spoke to you.
- Look in my diary.

See for yourself.

Madrid, a conference.

300 witnesses plus.

If that's any help to you.

Please, don't tell Felicity!
You'll tell her yourself.

If Calvert wasn't at
the memorial, who was?

And where are those photographs?

She'll be dead by nightfall.

Get in the car, ma'am.

Charlie, hello.

Yeah.

All right. Thank you.

Samuel Parr still unaccounted for.

And as for his wife...

she overdosed on a bottle of pills

and drowned in her own bath.

Look at them,

the dad, the mam and
the two little bairns.

Do you think one of them
could have murdered Lily?

- Por Peter's sake?
- Yeah, if you were that devoted...

But Luke?

Laura? Why would Peter Calvert

want them dead?

'This is Sam Parr. Leave a message
and I'll phone you when I get back.'

Sweetheart, it's me.

Listen, Peter's in some
kind of trouble and I...

I don't know, I...

I keep trying your mobile.

If this is about the
story, then I'm sorry,

it's none of my business. OK?

Just don't just shut me out.

I can't stand it when you do that.

Please,

just call me.

Felicity? The loyal wife?

What story?

'He carried her over the spit of
rocks as if she were sleeping...'

What is this?

'It seemed fitting

"that as he wrapped her
body in a lover's embrace,

that she would die here,

'like this,

'surrounded by flowers...

'The waves crashed

'against the castle keep...'

- Come on!
- Why the castle?

It's an old haunt of my father's.

They keep it on as
a nature reserve.

Sea-watchers, mainly.

- Joe's phone.
- Ma'am.

- Holly.
- We found Samuel Parr.

He's been at his wife's grave.

It's the anniversary of
her death, apparently.

- What, since this morning?
- Yeah, all day.

So, what do you want
us to do with him?

Well, thank him for his trouble
and take him home, I would.

OK.

Joe's answering service! What?

I'm sorry, love.

Right.

- That was your midwife.
- You what? And?

Your wife's waters just broke.

- Look, I'll understand...
- Just shut up. Please.

Two lads fighting by the shore.

Lily and that man in the beach hut.

A dirty bastard throwing
flowers at the memorial.

The coroner's report.

I asked Charlie to get
at the coroner's report

- into the drowning.
- It might have slipped his mind.

Slipped his mind?
I need that report!

There might be one in the back.

Where? Well, stop the car.

- Wait, I cannot pull over...
- Pull over!

'According
to the eyewitness,

"the deceased and Luke Armstrong
were playing peacefully by the shore.

'The deceased slipped
and fell into the sea.'

But they weren't playing peacefully.
Laura told me!

They were having a fight.

But why would the
witness lie about it?

Quid pro quo.

Because the witness
was a dirty bastard

who was willing to
keep his mouth shut

so long as Luke Armstrong
did the same for him.

Well, who was he? Who
was the eyewitness?

Get in the car.

Quiet!

Please. Please, just let me go.

Laura?

Let her go.

This one never saw you,

she can't hurt you.

Luke will have told her.

No.

You were looking for
a bird, weren't you,

one Friday, looking for a bird.

But when you looked out

and glanced on the beach hut...

there they were
through your binoculars,

Peter having sex with Lily Marsh.

She was all over him!

Her mouth...

all over him.

On her knees.

Disgusting at first

and then...

Clive.

Well, you were lonely.

Mam not there for you.

It was mad. Incredible.

I...I did try to tell Peter that I'd
seen them,

but, I mean... (LAUGHS)

..who's got the words
for a thing like that?

But you went back, didn't you?

Again and again. How long?

Weeks? Months?

I was just looking.

But you weren't alone, were you?

Two lads with a camera.

Luke and Thomas, they'd
caught you spying.

And now Thomas had you
on camera, didn't he?

Click click. Peeping Tom.

Dirty bastard!

Clive!

Clive, where are you?

Clive!

Clive!

Clive. Let her go.

Clive?

The way Thomas looked at me.

The triumph.

He was going to show Peter, he was
going to show the whole street.

Drop it off with the paper round.

What stopped him?

The other lad.

Luke...

he stood up to Thomas, didn't he?

They had a fight, the
camera fell in the water.

- Luke took your side.
- Yes. And I paid him back, didn't I?

At the inquest, I lied for him.

But it... it was like
he... he couldn't forgive me.

Like I'd made him push his friend in
the water.

You should have heard him going on,

and I knew, I knew!

that one of these days
he'd come after me.

He wasn't some bird of prey.

He was just a lad.

It's all right,
Laura. It's all right.

Get him, Joe, stop him!

Clive, stop!

No!

No!

No!

Joe! Cut the net!

- Cut the net, Joe!
- I'm trying!

Cut the net, Joe!
(CHOKING)

Laura!

It's all right.

It's possible

I may have confided about Lily.

Clive was like that.

Someone you could let off steam to.

It's not like I asked him
to go out and finish her off.

No, you didn't have to.
Clive worshipped you.

- Please!
- He was besotted.

Well, who do you think he
was watching every Friday?

Clive had his own reasons
for wishing to harm...

Yeah, Luke Armstrong, yes.

But it was your girl
trouble got him started.

Just a few words from
an old friend in need.

You turn murder into a
noble cause, Dr. Calvert.

First Luke. And then Lily Marsh.

Wipe out the whole blessed memory.

I hope you don't
mind my asking, but...

how did she take it?

- What?
- The wife.

You and Lily?

She didn't seem all that
surprised in the end.

No, I have a feeling she's
known for quite a while.

Yes, well, she's very forgiving.

Well, she would be.

Those in glass houses, Dr. Calvert.

What?

- You all right, love?
- Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.

- How's it going?
- Hey, Joe, just in time.

What's going on?

I'm giving the old bugger
his marching orders.

Hey, Joe, this is
Jack and Josephine.

- You all right?
- Try saying that in a hurry!

They're actually
a very nice couple.

You think I'm mad, don't you?

Moving into a big empty house.

You'll soon fill it.

We had a baby girl, by the way.

Thanks for asking.

That's brilliant.

That's brilliant.

Have you thought of a name yet?

Francesca.

You know, after the mother-in-law.

- With the ravioli?
- Aye.

That's great.

There's some bubbly
somewhere.

No, no. I was just passing.

- Good weight, was she?
- Aye. 3.6.

Course it's all grams and kilograms
these days.

I said, 'I only do imperial'.

Our Jessie was er...seven and a half
pound.

Michael was 6lb 12oz,

but of course he was a
bit premature, as you know.

Anyway, listen, the
reason I popped round...

Don't feel you have to say yes.

I know you're not a
great one for the bairns.

It's just that Celine and I were
wondering

if you'd ever do us the honour...

Here.

- This the bonny lass, is it?
- That's er... Forensics.

Took them off Thomas
Sharp's camera.

About bloody time.

Caught in the act.

- Of peeping?
- Of being alone.

Not for the faint-hearted.

I never told you, did I?

It was the same place
we dumped my mother.

What's that?

Dad's ashes.

They weren't running
the ferry in those days.

We went out in a little tugboat.

Course I don't remember it
myself, like. I was too young.

There's a photograph somewhere.

Was there something else?

No, no.

You enjoy your dinner.

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