All language subtitles for Bodies.S01E01.Youre.Dead.Already.1080p.NF.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.Atmos.H.264-XEBEC

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Ladies, come on. Let's go, let's go!

Man, I'd pay extra
if he'd shut up for five minutes.

There's a 10k run ahead of us.
Let's go kill it, come on!

Happy birthday, Dad.

You don't look a day over 61.

Hey. Hey! Uh, don't put your kit
in the laundry basket.

It stinks it out!

Oi! You want that game downloaded,

you gotta stay in your bed
five nights in a row, remember?

No crawling into mine.

Wait.

I'll see you later after work.

All right.

- Riz!
- Yeah?

- Hasan!
- They dragged you in too.

Supposed to be my first day off
after a fortnight.

- Had it booked off and everything. You?
- Same.

All right, let's go!

Detectives, I appreciate you
coming at short notice.

Now, I need you to show some presence
here at the perimeter. All right?

We have orders not to engage
unless directly provoked. Understood?

- Yes, sir.
- Good. Come on.

Echo 5-1-9-1-2.

Sir, I've got a suspicious male
standing on a corner.

Asian, late teens.
Permission to stop and search?

Negative.

Either of this lot see that,
then all hell will break loose.

Sir! Do you read me? Over.

Sir?

Sir, do you read me? Over.

Stop!

Move!

Drop it!

- Put the taser down. Now.
- Okay.

Take it easy.

- This isn't me.
- Okay.

Just... put the gun down.

And we'll figure this out. All right?

What's your name?

Can you tell me your name?

Shit.

This is Echo 5-1-9-1-2.

Echo 5-1-9-1-2, come in, over.

I've got an armed suspect on the move,

headed north off Longharvest Lane.

Star! Get your evening Star!

- Thanks.
- Star!

- Cheers, darling.
- Last night's raid, more casualties!

Six dead, including women and children.
Get your Star!

- Evening, ladies.
- Good evening, Detective!

- Detective.
- Murphy.

Charlie.

You're late.

You'd better have
a half decent excuse this time.

There's a war on?

Thank you.

- Whiteman.
- Apologies, sir.

Take a seat.

Inspector Farrell is here to join us.

Inspector.

Sergeant.

I'm afraid the Commissioner
has voiced some concerns

over the conduct of some of our officers.

He, uh... He thinks there's been
too many near misses.

Tip-offs to the racketeers.
That sort of thing.

- And the Commissioner feels...
- He reckons we've got a snitch.

Well...

They do say in London you're never
more than six feet from a rat.

Isn't that right, Farrell?

Some of the boys
in the department say you throw cash

at every piece of skirt
going in this building.

I thought you Jews saved your pennies.

Hey, Weissman?

I'm lucky at the dogs more often than not.
And it's Whiteman.

- Nah... it's Weissman.
- Farrell.

Heard they hit the synagogue last night.
It's a shame.

Not a racket that can protect your lot
from the Luftwaffe.

I think Farrell has
a problem with me, sir.

Our department has a problem with you.

Enough.

We're all on the same side here.

We just need your take on the subject.

Well...

I think the Commissioner
might well be onto something, sir.

And I commend you questioning the men.

You gotta look them in the eyes.
Make 'em sweat.

Though, if I may,

I'd suggest you start quizzing them
a little higher up the food chain.

And a little wider in the waistline.

I'll keep my eyes peeled.

Calloway extension.

Charlie.

Call for you, line 2.

- Fancy a drink down The Silk tonight?
- Can't. Got a date.

- Well, who's my competition?
- My sister's Anderson shelter.

- Yeah, this is Whiteman.
- You have a new errand.

Listen carefully.

Kath, fetch us a cuppa, would you?

A black Wolseley will be left for you.
Keys above the front wheel.

You'll drive it to Longharvest Lane
to pick up a body by 10:15 p.m., no later.

Then drive the body
to the Royal Albert Dock,

and leave it there.

A body?

Risky.

- I've got eyes on me.
- That's why we pay you so well.

Know you are loved, Sergeant Whiteman.

The hell was that?

How should I know?

The whole city's on the fritz.

Bloody blackouts...

Gotcha.

What's your story, eh?

Please, let me go with him!

- No!
- Please!

Caught your son red-handed.

That's the third time
this month, Inspector.

He needs to learn his lesson.

- No! No!
- We were so hungry.

Oi!

Don't even think about it!
The law is the law.

- Let me go with him!
- Get him in! Put him in!

What the hell was that?

Ma!

Please...

One of ours, sir.

Whitechapel. Never a dull moment.

Let the mother accompany the boy
to the station.

- Byrne! You're with me.
- Thank you.

Thank you!

Mm.

I wonder what they found this time, sir.

I grew up around here, you know?

It's not like it was.
It's worse every year.

Couldn't pay me to live here no more.

Any business, dear?

Inspector.

What have you found?

A fresh corpse,
naked as the day he was born.

Like he'd fallen from the sky.

Make way, please.
Out of the way. Out of the way.

Back.

Give me back my camera.
It's my property.

It's police property.

I found this ponce
taking photographs of the corpse.

Yes, and the ponce
wants his camera back.

You have no right
to take photographs.

I have every right, you bona fide ape.

And if your meat hooks
have scratched a single...

- Go easy on him.
- Officer Webb.

Go home at once.
You're to be docked a day's wages.

Right, move along, please.
Come on, move along.

Come on, move on, move on.

Let's have a look.

Thank you.

Explain yourself.

Name's Henry Ashe.
I'm a journalist for The Star.

I was walking by when I heard
the sound of streetlamps exploding.

I saw the body,
assumed he'd been beaten and robbed.

And then I saw his face.

- I shouted for help.
- Then why were you taking photographs?

Like I said, Detective, I'm a journalist.

Byrne, talk to the local trade.

- See if they know the victim.
- Yes, sir.

You may keep your camera,
but the plates are evidence.

- Where do you develop?
- I have lodgings round the corner.

Then I'll collect them
as soon as they're ready.

I have a few plates spare.

- Seems a pity to waste them.
- No, it's a police matter now. Thank you.

You may go.

Whoa, the state of you.

Okay, come on. Let me check
those beautiful brown eyes.

They did that already. I'm fine.

Yeah, but they don't love you like I do.
Come on, humor me.

Look straight ahead.

Shit, it's Dad's party tonight.
I've gotta get out of here.

Just say I'm concussed, will you?

If you're concussed,
you're in A&E for 24 hours.

- Shit. Look straight ahead.
- How is she doing?

Um...

Dopey, but not concussed, sir.

- I'd send her home pronto for bed rest.
- You went against my orders.

You had an Asian lad
with a Glock 17 at a far-right rally.

You're lucky I saw him.

- On my day off.
- Dopey?

She's right.

Glock 17, positive?

- Pretty sure, yeah.
- And the victim was far-right?

England's Glory mourners seem to think so.

Can't explain the nudity,
but they do get enthusiastic.

That they do.

- You didn't hear the gunshot?
- No.

- Place is covered, right?
- Yeah.

Most of the cams were fried
in the power surge.

Inspector, thank you.
This is our case, you can leave.

Get some rest, okay?

You okay?

He was just a kid.

- He seemed more scared than I was.
- Yeah, well, great. He won't get far.

- Do you need some time out?
- No. I'll be fine.

Well, I'm gonna need...

A written report, and you'll need
me to attend the postmortem.

Poetry.

Suspect's name is Syed Tahir.

Identified from CCTV
before the blackout.

Yeah, last number he called
was his sister's.

We're trying to get hold of her now.
Syed's in the care home system.

No sign of radicalization.

- So how did he get the criminal record?
- Minor stuff. Misdemeanors. Led astray.

Nothing like this, though.

I didn't hear a gunshot.
If he did it, it was before I chased him.

He'd have had to have stripped him
and got rid of the clothes.

I mean, why bother?
He didn't have time for that.

Easy, lads. How many times?
He's not cattle, he's evidence.

Let's get the formalities over,
shall we?

Sergeant Hasan, can you confirm
this is the same body you discovered?

Confirmed.

Another lusty punter
got shot in the rookery, eh?

- Found on his knees?
- Calm yourself, Ladbroke.

He was discovered in Longharvest Lane,
but he wasn't shot there.

A head wound like that, the lane should be
covered in blood, but not a drop.

No witnesses heard the shot.

No, he was killed elsewhere
and then dumped.

Don't waste your ink.

Continental sciences, Ladbroke.

It's good practice.

The bad news is, there's not
one single hit on any of our databases.

No DNA on record,
no dental work and no prints.

He's a John Doe.

Makes no sense
I didn't hear Syed's gun go off.

No bullet casings were discovered
on the scene and no exit wound either.

From the wound size, hazarding a guess,

I'd say a 9-millimeter round
fired at medium range.

How would that leave
such a hollow wound in the socket?

None of this adds up.

I was meant to take my wife
to the opera this evening.

- What's the opera?
- Pirates of Penzance.

Well, I'm doing you the favor.

The bullet should be easy enough to find.

These markings look fresh.

This mean anything to anyone?
Gang sign? Far-right?

- Is that even ink? I'm out of touch.
- It's not far-right.

Fenian or Hebrew claptrap!

Probably says "ass for rent".

Could be a runic symbol?

I've seen them used
by fraudulent mediums before.

Anglo-Saxon.

What about that scar on his head?

- Check A&Es for recent head wounds.
- Can we get somebody on that, please?

And if it goes anywhere,
make sure I get the credit.

Good Lord.

Hillinghead, make sure
I'm not going blind, would you?

You see here?

The anterolateral.

There's no bullet.

And no exit wound.
So the bullet should still be here.

And it's vanished.

Wait, stop.

I said stop!

Come on, get in.

Immediate alert
for bombing raid in East London.

Proceed immediately
to your nearest shelter and take cover.

Fuck.

Inspector, it's past your bedtime, surely?

Evening, Mr. Weissman.

Moonlighting again?

- You know it's not safe to stop here?
- Ah, they're hitting the factories.

We're safe enough.

You Jew boys should never
have been allowed on the force.

Can't help yourselves, can you?

Always looking to make a bit on the side.

I want my taste.

- What you got in the boot?
- Moonlight.

Hand me the keys.

But I wouldn't if I were you.

Let's see what you got.

Farrell.

Shit.

Help me!

Thanks, madam. Enjoy your evening.

- Thank you.
- ♪ Happy birthday, dear Ishmael ♪

♪ Happy birthday to you ♪

Thank you.

Mom!

Did you save me some food?
Or have you scoffed the lot?

- Where's the birthday boy?
- He's not a birthday boy, Mom.

He's old.

What happened to your eye?

Hey. Hey. Go play. Go play.

Just in time for the cake.

Sorry. One second.

All right?

Sorry to crash the party, Hasan,
but I need a favor.

That MRI came in on the John Doe.

Okay, and?

Scanned his bones from head to toe.
No bullet.

- That's impossible.
- Yeah, it is.

This is Syed's sister, Aaliyah.

We tracked her down
to ask why he called her.

And she just told us where to stick it.

You've a better chance to get her to talk.
It's a fact.

Look, I know what you can do,
I know how much you give.

And I know the cost on you
and your family.

But I wouldn't ask you to turn it on
if you weren't needed.

She takes the train home
each night after work.

And it's only round the corner.

And if we don't find Syed fast,

we'll have jittery, armed officers
all over the country,

looking to shoot any Asian lad
with a backpack, guilty or not.

- You're cheap, Barber. You know that?
- Yeah.

Yeah, I do.

If something
doesn't look right,

report to a member of staff immediately,

or text British Transport Police on 61016.

See it, say it, sorted.

Either you sit this close 'cause it's late
and you're thinking safety in numbers, or...

you're wired up under that.

We need to talk. Aaliyah.

- He didn't say anything or do anything...
- If you don't talk...

- Why would I?
- I chased your brother this afternoon.

I know he's running scared,
and I want to believe he didn't do it.

...now approaching.
DLR service to Bank.

Five minutes.

You and me.

What did he tell you
on the phone, Aaliyah?

That the police would think
he'd killed somebody.

He wanted me to know he didn't.

So he knew it was gonna happen?

He sounded so freaked out.

How'd he get the gun?

Friends from school?

Gangs?

He's not into that stuff. He hates it.

You say you're the real deal.

How do I know?

Here.

This is my number.

If your brother calls again,

tell him this from me.

He's got a story to tell,
and I will hear him out.

And I'll make sure he's brought in safe.

That seemed to go pretty well.

Do you think she'll call?

I don't know.

- Uh, we'll need a tap on your phone.
- Yeah.

- Connected.
- Drop you back at your dad's thing?

Oh, it's fine. I'll walk.

Hasan.

Nice one.

Inspector Hillinghead.

I thought it best to retrieve
the photographs earlier than

discover them in your newspaper later.

Do you approve?

These are the ones I took
before your officer arrived.

I think the last one should interest you.

A reflection...

of...

a gentleman.

He must have been hiding in the alcove
when I saw the body.

And crept away before the crowds came.

I had no idea he was there.

And what exactly

were you doing in the rookery?

Because I am investigating this matter,

you've no choice
but to provide me with an answer.

I'd been up all night.

Taking photographs for a piece
I'm doing on the local nightlife.

- I was trying out a new flash bulb.
- Right.

Where are the photographs?

The bin. They didn't come out too well.

Well, you shall need an alibi
from one of your subjects.

It's not a difficult request.
I just need proof of where you were.

It'll go no further.

And this man...

This man with you, he would...

corroborate you were with him
before you found the body?

- He could go to jail.
- So why risk a photograph?

Stop!

Henry Ashe...

...you're under arrest

for the matter of gross indecency
and unnatural acts behind closed doors.

You'll give the name of the other man
in this photograph.

Are you really so afraid of it?

Let the detective through!

Terrible loss, sir.

Any witnesses?

You tell me, Sergeant.

I'm putting you in charge
of this investigation.

Farrell was keeping watch
on a looter crew working the lanes.

It appears he pulled the Wolseley
over to the curb.

We don't know why.

He didn't call it in.

Whatever he was up to,
the Luftwaffe put a stop to it.

But the keys to the Wolseley were
in Farrell's hands when we found them.

Have you looked inside the vehicle, sir?

May I?

Shit.

- We checked the boot, sir?
- It's your case.

Sir.

Good God.

I know there are some rumors flying around

about underhand goings-on
in this department.

Gentlemen, we're detectives.

We don't operate on conjecture.

I will not stand for anyone
slandering Inspector Farrell's good name

until proven otherwise.

He was one of us.

He deserves our best.

- So let's get to work.
- Here, here.

Charlie, call for you.

Yeah, this is Whiteman.

- Hello.
- We wanted the body.

Not a murder investigation.

You failed.

All right.

Don't have a conniption fit.

You're in the clear.

I'll cold case it.

You'll destroy
all police records immediately.

By whatever means necessary.

A cop's been killed,
I can't just close it.

That's not how it works. I need time.

Hello?

You will honor our arrangement
or suffer the consequences.

Know you are loved, Sergeant Whiteman.

Mm.

Here.

All right,
I think these are ready to go in, I think.

Hello?

Who is this, please?

Aaliyah?

My sister said I could trust you.

Syed, tell me where you are.

Do you still have the gun?

We could meet.

Hand the gun over to me.

Nowhere is safe. We meet in public.

The café on the second floor
of the Stratford Shopping Center.

By the ice cream cone.

Come alone. Now.

Syed, that's...

Hello?

Shit.

Barber, did you get all that?
I'm two minutes away.

Hasan, if he's armed, it's a shitshow.
Wait until SO19 bring him in.

No, if you send them, you'll freak him out
and they'll take him down.

I just need five minutes with him.

Okay, now.

Yeah. Go.

Barber, I see him.

- He's on level 2, west balcony.
- Hasan!

Wait for me. That's an order!

My bad.

May I?

If you've got the gun, give it to me.

Syed.

You've got a dozen armed officers
rocking up here in 30 seconds flat.

Give me the gun,
and they can all go home disappointed.

They won't be.

This isn't a game.

Look, I don't think you did it.
Just give me the gun, and I'm all ears.

Oh, you're all ears now, aren't you?

You know, you really won over my sister.

She doesn't understand.

What doesn't she understand?

Everything they said
was going to happen, has.

So is what's gonna happen next.

- I shouldn't have brought you here.
- Why not?

All right.

This is how this is going to end.

You're gonna give me that gun,

I'm gonna take you in,

and we've got all the time in the world
to talk this through, all right?

I was supposed to sh...

You were meant to find the body.
That's what had to happen.

That's what I was told.

- You're not making sense.
- And neither will you, soon.

- I promise you on that.
- ...security announcement.

- All customers and staff...
- Syed, I can protect you.

This is a security announcement.

All customers and staff
must evacuate the building immediately.

This is a security announcement.
All customers...

Syed, no wait. Please, don't!

Your sister doesn't think you killed him.

Neither do I. Don't do this.

It's too late, it's over.

Go! Leave it! Leave it!
Come with me now, let's go!

Don't! Don't!

Take the shot.

Know you are loved.

No!

Aaliyah.

May Allah give you patience.

Whoa! Whoa, whoa!

- I told him he could trust you.
- Okay, okay. All right. Okay.

I told him...

You did everything you could.

You're wasting
your time, Detective.

And mine.

You'd be better off
trying to find the killer instead.

Inform your Chief Inspector

that you wish him to contact
the Assistant Commissioner of Police,

Lieutenant Colonel Richard Pearson.

Tell him his married son
was the man photographed with me

last night at the molly house.

They're my alibi.

Damn it!

Why so glum?

This is his alibi.

Who is this?

It's our suspect in the lane.

Why?

You recognize him?

- No.
- You do.

- I must get on.
- Ladbroke.

- Ladbroke, if you recognize this man...
- Let go, man! Let me go.

Burn it, Hillinghead.

If you value the life you have.

If you do not tell me his name,
I'll take it to the highest authority.

Then you're dead already.

And that's all the warning
I dare give you.

You drinking
or sipping this month?

Neither.

Are the rest of the ballistics
back from Syed's gun yet?

Well, the...

Okay.

The residue from the gun

doesn't 100% match up
to the residue on the John Doe.

He was 17.

I promised his sister
I'd keep him safe. What...

How the fuck did this happen?

Shahara, don't you dare
start thinking like that.

- God knows what went through his head.
- A bullet.

And I've never seen anyone
that scared in my life.

He didn't want to die.

Don't do this to yourself.

I want to find out who that dead guy is.

I want to find out who gave Syed that gun.

- Wait.
- What?

What? Shahara, wait.

Two coffee cups.

What you got?

I've seen this kid before.

He was watching me last night.

He's connected.

He knows something.

♪ What a difference a day made ♪

♪ Twenty-four little hours ♪

♪ Brought the sun and the flowers ♪

♪ Where there... ♪

♪ My yesterday was blue, dear ♪

♪ Today I'm a part of you, dear ♪

Hey!

408 transmission error.
Vehicle malfunction.

Rebooting now.

Are you okay, Detective Maplewood?

I think so.

Thanks for asking.

The whole block's fried.
Scan for electromagnetic pulse.

Anomaly detected.
Source in Longharvest Lane.

Anyone in there?

- Control.
- Control.

I've got a deceased male
with a gunshot wound to the head.

Okay. Uh...

Correction.

He's alive.

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