Original subtitles

(PROSECUTOR) "Gordon Welsley Brittas, you are charged that you did,

on the 13th November, 1992,

murder Julio Escobedo. Eduardo Ramirez. Juan Mendosa.

Robert Penchard. Ian Trahern.

Also known as "Big Gary." and Raymond Watts."

It's all a misunderstanding.

"That you did have in your possession, controlled drugs of class A.

Namely five kilos of heroin and an unknown quantity of amphetamines,

contrary to Section 4 of the Misuse of Drugs Act of 1971."

I've explained all that...

"And that you did unlawfully cause Grievous Bodily Harm,

to Alice Whitely, Grace Beatty,

Agnes Swinton and Doreen Lavern-Smith,

all of the Whitbury New Town Sunshine Retirement Home,

contrary to the Offences against the Person Act of 1861."

Now, that was just a mistake...

Do you understand the charges?

Well, no. This is all a mystery to me. As I was saying earlier...

Do you understand the meaning of the charges Mr. Brittas?

Well, I understand the words...

In that case, I must ask you to tell the court how you plead.

Well, I don't think I should plead anything at all. This is all wrong...

Just tell us whether you plead guilty or not guilty.

Well, not guilty, obviously.

Thank you.

Except possibly for the old ladies.

Members of the jury, the main facts of this case are not in dispute.

On the day in question, the police arrived at Whitbury Leisure Centre.

To find the lifeless bodies of seven men lying outside the squash courts.

One of whom had been beheaded by the accused.

I keep telling you, that was an accident.

Quiet!

To understand the circumstances that lie behind these extraordinary events,

I must take you back to Whitbury New Town Leisure Centre

on what had seemed at first to be a perfectly normal autumn day...

A Friday...Friday the 13th...

Carole, can I have a solvent please? -It's no good Mr. Brittas.

She's in a trance. I think she's having another vision.

Well, do you think we could wake her up? I need a solvent.

I don't think that would be wise Mr. Brittas ...

No. No...not more blood in here. Not in here please...

Colin, the Council employs Carole

because of her skills as a receptionist.

Not 'cause she claims to see into next week

with an eye in the middle of her forehead. Wake her up, will you?

I think she's coming round now, Mr. Brittas.

Oh, where am I? Oh, Mr. Brittas. How can I help you?

Oh, where am I? Oh, Mr. Brittas. How can I help you?

Could I have a solvent please, Carole?

Yes, I'm sorry, Mr. Brittas. I just got these pictures inside my head.

I think you'll find it's in the bottom drawer...

I saw danger...terrible danger from a distant land...

I think she's warning of some disaster Mr. Brittas.

We don't need to look to distant land to find a disaster round here, Colin.

I thought you were supposed to be sawing logs.

I'm just on my way.

Mr. Brittas?

What is it now?

You've got a telephone stuck to your ear, Mr. Brittas.

I am aware of that, Colin. That is why I was asking Carole for the solvent.

Yes, Mr. Brittas.

He's, er, back then, is he, Mr. Brittas?

So it would appear.

What are you gonna do, Mr. Brittas?

About the maniac with a tube of super-glue, Colin?

Or about finding myself a Deputy Manager with a brain cortex?

I mean about the warning. These men from a distant land...

How many times have I got to tell you Colin.

These visions are not real. They're a figment of Carole's imagination...

aren't they, Carole? -Yes, Mr. Brittas.

There is no distant land. There are no men.

They're back again, Mr. Brittas.

Who? -The Bolivians.

They're in the changing rooms and I still don't like the look of them.

Why didn't you like the look of them Miss Lancing?

It's hard to say. They book squash courts and don't actually play.

They always brought kit with them, but they never actually got changed.

I remember once hearing one of them say. "It's perfect, isn't it?

No one ever comes here."

Frankly, I thought they were up to something.

And then he told you to get a box and look for lost property?

Yes. I think he was a bit upset about the glue business.

Glue?

There's someone in the centre who doesn't like Mr. Brittas.

They've been putting glue on things that they know he'll pick up.

So, having told you not to worry about the men in the changing rooms,

he then went straight down there himself?

Yes, it was about the time he'd normally do a lavatory inspection.

Yes. Pine freshener possibly a little strong.

But overall impression, not bad.

Thank you, Mr. Brittas.

But, surface gloss isn't everything, Gavin.

It's the attention to detail that counts. Such as,

did we clean behind the cisterns?

The what?

So often overlooked... but just the sort of place

where an unsightly splash can harbour...

What's this?

It looks like the key to one of the lockers, Mr. Brittas.

Number 124.

Shall I go and find out whose it is?

Think, Gavin. Think.

I was thinking, Mr. Brittas. I thought if we found out whose it was,

we could give it back to them.

But how do we know if it was the right person?

I mean, anyone can say. "Oh yes. Number 124, that's mine!"

As you may one day learn young Gavin Featherley,

not everyone in this world is as honest as you or I.

Perhaps you'd like to take that to my office, please.

Yes, Mr. Brittas.

Then, the person claiming it has only to prove

some detailed knowledge of its contents.

Complete the necessary paperwork, pay the administration costs,

and their property shall be returned. What could be simpler?

Yes, Mr. Brittas.

So, Mr. Brittas walked straight into the cubicle and picked up the key?

Yes, he just found it there.

Just found it...of course.

And having told you not to attempt to find the owner of the case,

he asked you to take it up to his office?

Is that where lost property is normally taken?

Well no. But. Er...

But what?

I'm sure he had a reason.

Oh, I'm sure he had, Mr. Featherley.

Tell me. Do you know what was in the case?

Well, I did have a quick look.

And?

There was £650,000 in £10 notes.

Can I help you? -What?

I wondered if there's some sort of problem?

If it's toilet paper, we do always keep a spare roll.

I was just, er... I'm fine.

Excuse me, you're not Edward Barratt by any chance, are you?

Why?

I knew it! You're the one who's holding up my squash competition.

Your what?

The Whitbury New Town squash tournament.

We were hoping to have finished it by Friday.

I didn't know I was in a tournament.

Ah, that's what they all say!

But if you'd read your original application form,

you would have noticed that you were automatically entered

when you joined the centre.

I'm in the final! How'd I get in the final?

You've been rather lucky, haven't you?

You had some byes in the earlier rounds and some in the later rounds.

The final! Eh, that's not bad, is it?

Indeed! The question is, when can you play? How about now?

Now? -Yes.

That's what you came in for, isn't it, a game of squash?

I happen to know that your opponent is in this the building at this very moment.

I'll give you court No. 4. Don't forget your racquet.

Right.

Timothy, you'll be pleased to hear

that I completed my inspection and was pleasantly impressed!

Just one little worry. About crevices...

Sorry?

As I was explaining to Gavin earlier, it's not just the bits we see Tim,

it's the little bits that get behind.

Take, for example, cisterns.

Now. Things can get behind them and when unsightly splashes get...

What is this?

It looks like one of the locker keys, Mr. Brittas.

I can see that, Tim.

Can I ask who it belongs to?

No, thank you. As I was explaining to your compadre earlier this morning.

The snag with that...

Good Lord!

You'd think they were breeding in there!

And you'd no idea what was in the case?

No. Because you weren't allowed to find whose key it was.

You weren't allowed to open the locker.

And Mr. Brittas took the case upstairs to his office.

Yes.

One more question, Mr. Whistler. When you came into the changing room,

where exactly was Mr. Brittas?

He was standing at the notice board talking to one of the customers.

I believe you told the police he had his arm around the man's shoulder?

Which would imply,

would it not, that they were friends?

Not necessarily.

No?

Well, they could have just found they really liked each other.

It happens sometimes.

Thank you, Mr. Whistler.

Right. Lost property forms.

Julie. Could you get Carole to come to my office with the solvent, please?

Julie? Hello, Julie?

Morning, Carole. -Oh. Good morning, Mrs. Brittas.

I'm sorry. I've just had another one of my visions.

There was blood this time... blood dripping down from the walls.

In the centre? -It was terrible, Mrs. Brittas.

There were dead bodies. Dead bodies everywhere.

My husband wasn't one of them, was he?

Sorry? -It was just a thought.

Carole, you don't actually believe all this?

It seems terribly real, Mrs. Brittas.

Yes, but it's just your imagination. The whole thing is...

Just my imagination.

Yes. Look, Carole, I really came in to ask if Gordon had...

Oh Gordon, there you are.

Be with you as soon as I can, my darling. Carole, can I have the solvent, please?

Yes, Mr. Brittas.

I just wondered if you'd managed to pick up my prescription?

All safely upstairs, my love. I'll get it for you as soon as I can. Alright?

No. No. It's okay. I'll get it. Is it on your desk?

In my briefcase. Yes.

What's this?

I think it belongs to Colin, Mr. Brittas.

I don't believe it! Colin. Can you come out here, please?

Now. Colin!

Sorry, Mr. Brittas. I was just syringing my ears.

I get this slight irritation, you see. And it's just as well I was

because I appear to have flushed out a couple of woodlice.

One thing at a time, please Colin.

I believe you've been using that.

That's right. But as soon as I've done the other ear...

And leave an unsupervised chainsaw in a public area?

Supposing some small child came in,

mistook it for part of his Fisher Price woodworking set,

ran off into Tumble Tots to show his friends?

You'd have a carnage on your hands, wouldn't you?

I never thought of that, Mr. Brittas.

Take it straight up to my office please, where I can lock it safely away.

Right, Mr. Brittas.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Hello? Yes, yes... it's your wife, Mr. Brittas.

Hello, my darling.

Gordon. These pills are all for me are they? Only there's no label.

Yes. The doctor said take one whenever you feel you need to.

Oh. Right.

And if you run out. He'll give you more in a couple of weeks.

Are these the pills your husband left for you, Mrs. Brittas?

Yes. Yes, I think so.

You presumed they were a prescription to relieve your depression?

Well, yes. I thought the doctor had finally got it right.

They're the first ones that worked!

These pills were retrieved from the Brittas bathroom, My Lord.

Analysis has shown they are an amphetamine known as "uppers."

Tell me, Mrs. Brittas, would you describe your husband as a wealthy man?

Well, not really. He gets a bonus on his salary,

for every hundred people through the doors.

And the bonus last year?

I don't think there was one last year...no. No.

So I ask, how could your husband afford that nice coat you are wearing?

Oh, he didn't buy me this. This was a present...

I have this bed-ridden uncle. Uncle Simon. He gave it to me.

Did he also give you the Mercedes convertible in which you drove to Court?

No. That's just been lent to me. It's being collected this morning.

By your Uncle Simon?

I...er...don't think he'd manage it...

Thank you. No more questions, My Lord.

You may step down, Mrs. Brittas.

Yes. It's just if you've finished with the pills, could I have them back?

(JUDGE) You are Mr. Brittas' secretary?

(SECRETARY) 'Fraid so.

(JUDGE) And on the day in question,

did the Defendant ask you to bring a Mr. Barratt to his office?

(SECRETARY) Yes, I eventually found him outside the gym,

making a phone call.

Well, the merchandise has gone but there's no money.

No. That's it, there wasn't a key.

Bernie's checking it now. He thinks they might be pulling a fast one.

He reckons a bit of heavy artillery might be in order.

You're wanted.

Wait.

What?

Mr. Brittas wants to see you in his office.

What for?

He wants to give you a Cup.

Da Da!

This is for me?

Fairly won, Mr. Barratt. My congratulations.

And I can keep it?

Take it home. Put it on the mantlepiece. Build a little display cabinet for it.

"The Whitbury-New Town Squash Champion's Trophy."

Yes. Indeed! Now, while-we're sailing on this particular tack, Mr. Barratt...

A cup!

Here you are. The town's champion squash player.

I just wondered if you'd ever thought of using that position to help others?

Sorry?

It's all very easy for us with our cosy middle-class lives Edward.

But we have to remember that not all the kids out there

have the advantages of you and me.

Eh?

If we could just bring them in here,

and with champions like you to attract them I know we could.

Can you imagine what miracles might happen?

Miracles?

The smile on the face of a child

when it takes those first hesitant strokes across the pool.

The look on someone's face when they win a trophy for the first time

and realise that life's a little bit ... more than hanging around street corners

getting involved in drugs and petty crime.

See what I mean? -Oh yeah...

It can happen, Edward. But we' need you to help.

I have this dream. That leisure centres all over the land...

(TELEPHONE RINGS) Excuse me.

Brittas? I'll be right down!

Excuse me Edward. Duty calls! Bear it in mind, though.

Comprende?

Morning gentlemen!

Mr. Brittas, these are the men.

Yes, I can see that thank you, Carole.

How can I help you?

We are finding the squashy court.

Good. You haven't been here before I take it?

Friends we meet in...in the squashy court.

Mr. Brittas, you don't understand...

What is it, Carole?

These are the men I saw in my vision with the dead bodies.

They look perfectly healthy to me. Just give them the tickets, will you?

That's forty pence please, gentlemen.

Let's go!

Ah. Mr. Mendosa!

I've brought along two of your friends.

Now. They say they're only going to watch.

But if they're tempted to play,

you tell me and I'll organise some racquets, alright?

Well, enjoy your game, gentlemen. And watch out for that back wall.

They come off it like bullets sometimes! Ha!

Brought some more supporters I see, Mr. Watts?

You what? Oh yeah! Have you seen Eddie?

Oh, You mean Mr. Barratt. Of course,

you'll need him for your foursome, won't you?

Tell you what, if I see him, I'll tell him you're looking for him. Okay?

This is all the lost property I could find, Mr. Brittas.

Ah, thank you, Laura.

Carole's just told me about the men who've arrived. Are they up there?

They are indeed. Preparing to battle it out on the squash courts.

You're not worried?

Why should I be worried? Those are precisely the sort of people we want.

None of your scruffy trainers and rude T-shirts.

Those are business people in suits and ties.

You really can see nothing wrong?

No. I can't. They're even bringing their friends in now.

You're the manager, Mr. Brittas. I just thought we should keep an eye...

(GUN SHOTS)

What's that? -What?

That noise...

Sounds like a moped with a badly adjusted carburetor.

Probably Helen going home. Ha!

Laura, I'll put this away. You go and grab yourself

a cup of coffee and a flapjack.

Thank you, Mr. Brittas.

Women! Worry, worry, worry!

(GROANING)

Mr. Brittas?

You've seen another body have you, Carole? Jolly good!

What I suggest you do is go and make yourself a nice mug of warm milk.

By the time you've come back. All the dead bodies will have gone away.

Happy now? Well go and do it anyway!

Pow!

Get down, mate. Get down! C'mon punk. Make my day! Pow! Pow!

Is everything alright, Mr. Brittas?

Ah. Linda... (GUN SHOT)

A remarkable shot, wouldn't you say?

Yes. And he was hardly looking when he fired it!

Your employer would appear to be an accomplished marksman, Miss Perkin...

Mr. Brittas is good at all sorts of things.

As the forensic evidence has shown, My Lord,

the bullets retrieved from the office wall

matched those in the bodies of three of the dead men.

And all were fired by the gun found in the Defendant's possession.

Did your employer explain why he had a gun in his office?

Yes. He said he'd found it in lost property.

Miss Lancing has given evidence that there was no gun

in the lost property box when she gave it to Mr. Brittas ten minutes before.

Yes, I know. -Is there some explanation?

Oh, yes.

What would that be?

I don't know. But I'm sure he has one, Mr. Brittas always does.

Thank you, Miss Perkin. Oh. One last question...

Did you happen to see a chainsaw in Mr. Brittas' office?

Yes. I think I did.

One gun...white powder...£650,000 ... Right. Lost property forms!

Colin!

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Julie? Julie!

Whitbury New Town Leisure Centre. How can I help you?

Colin. The very person...what? How many? I'm on my way!

(CHAINSAW MOTOR)

Help! Help!

Hello, Police? You can't hear me cause I've got a chainsaw running...

I repeat...a chainsaw!

Mr. Brittas, I've got...

Carole, you've gotta help me! You've gotta switch this thing off!

Carole! Carole!

Help me. For God's sake! Before I hurt someone!

"Help me. For God's sake, Before I hurt someone." Those were his words?

Did you phone the police?

I tried to...

But Mr. Brittas had cut the machine in half. All the lines were dead.

And what did Mr. Brittas do then?

He just ran off down the corridor.

(CHAINSAW MOTOR)

Arm up! Arm down! Left leg out!

Good god, Colin! What have you done?

They're all dead, Mr. Brittas!

I'm trying to call the police

but there's something wrong with the phone...

It's alright, Laura, I've cut the lines.

I think there's one inside here, Mr. Brittas. He might still be alive.

Right. Let's get the door open!

You'll have to speak up, Mr. Brittas.

I think it must be the chainsaw.

Let's get the door open! Get a sledgehammer! Get a saw!

Right. Stand back. Both of you!

Well done, Mr. Brittas!

We'll soon know if he's alright...just the last cut.

Hello, Darling. I brought you some sausage rolls.

I'm a bit off sausages at the moment, my love.

So. How do you think it's going?

What?

Well, I don't think it's all bad. Do you?

I mean. What have they got. Apart from circumstantial evidence?

They haven't got a motive, have they?

I mean. Why would you want to kill all those people?

I think they thought the money.

Money! What money?

They've got the gun. The bodies, the drugs. The fingerprints...

I'm sure it will turn out alright.

You know what hurts the most, Helen?

That prosecutor saying a man like me

should never have been given a position of trust in the community.

To see everything you've devoted your life to get thrown back in your face.

Oh, c'mon Gordon. Never say die.

I mean. Perhaps the judge will make it look better when he does his summing up?

So, members of the jury, you may decide to believe the Defendant

when he says he stumbled across the drugs and the money

as the result of a lavatory inspection.

And that when he decapitated Mr. Ramirez,

he was merely trying to get through a door to administer first aid.

On the other hand, if you find it easier to believe, as the prosecution does...

Stop! Stop!

I have to speak! I was there. I saw what happened.

Well why didn't you come forward and say all this before?

I know I should have done, Me Lord.

But I suppose I was scared of going to prison for twenty years

or being murdered by me gang mates.

I can't hide any more. I cannot stand by and watch an innocent man suffer.

Not after what he has given me.

What exactly has he given you?

A sense of worth as a human being, Me Lord. Dignity.

The knowledge that I don't have to spend the rest of my life in the gutter.

That I can use my talents to help others.

I have spent the last six months in a leisure centre in Wincanton.

Teaching small children to swim. Coaching adolescents at badminton,

helping others find the path to self-reform that this man offered me.

He showed me what life can be like. He has given me...

He's given me a dream.

(GASPS FROM CROWD)

Oh my god!

Gentlemen. The first and foremost thing is that it's a super verdict!

We had to let him go, David.

I know. It's just that there are some cases you really hate to lose.

I know.

Do you know that man barred my children from the leisure centre

because he found one of them chewing gum.

I thought he'd get thirty years at least.

There's more than one way to skin a cat, David.

C'mon my darling. Off we go!

Further questions will be answered at a later date, alright?

C'mon my darling. In you go. There we are.

My entire family were barred because I forgot to use the foot bath.

A present for you and a suggestion: No one's done the lavatory seat

in the executive washroom. Goodbye.

Not so fast, Colin!