Original subtitles

Get right up there.

Yeah! Yeah!

♫ Better stop dreaming of the quiet life ♫

♫ 'Cause it's the one we'll never know ♫

♫ And quit running for that runaway bus ♫

♫ 'Cause those rosy days are few ♫

♫ And stop apologizing for the things you've never done ♫

♫ 'Cause time is short and life is cruel ♫

♫ But it's up to us to change ♫

♫ This town called malice ♫

♫ Rows and rows of disused milk-floats ♫

♫ Stand dying in the dairy yard ♫

♫ And 100 lonely housewives ♫

♫ Clutch empty milk bottles to their hearts ♫

♫ Hanging out their old love letters on the line to dry ♫

♫ It's enough to make you stop believing ♫

Yes!

♫ In a town called malice ♫

♫ Yeah ♫

Old Denis Law did the best one...

'cause when he scored, he lifted his arm up,

but he had his sleeve pulled down.

It was like this.

- Like what, Dad? - Like he was a kid,

playing football in the street in the cold and the rain.

The sleeve was to wipe away snot probably, you know.

Rain, snot, football in the street.

Those were the days.

Yeah, you watch it.

You not taking the cab tonight, Dad?

No. Where you going tonight, then, son?

Oh, I'm just hooking up with John.

Well, you have a good time. Take care of yourself.

We'll see you later on, all right?

- Night, Mum. - Have fun.

♫ I'm almost stone-cold dead ♫

♫ In a town called malice ♫

♫ Ooh-ooh, yeah ♫

Sorry, mate.

♫ A whole street's belief ♫

♫ In Sunday's roast beef ♫

♫ Get dashed against... ♫

♫ ...malice ♫

♫ Ooh-ooh, yeah ♫

♫ Ooooh ♫

♫ The ghost of a steam train ♫

♫ Echoes down my track ♫

♫ It's, at the moment, bound for nowhere ♫

♫ Just going 'round and 'round ♫

♫ Playground kids and creaking swings ♫

♫ Lost laughter in the breeze ♫

All right, mate?

What do you mean, she won't let you?

This is a massive night out.

Oh, John, not again.

Yeah.

All right. Bye.

- Oi, mate! - Um, sorry.

Get on with it!

All right. Yep, yep.

Um, I'm sorry. I'm not a cab driver.

Never mind.

I could drop you somewhere.

Where do you want to go?

I have no idea.

Why'd you stop?

I didn't.

I mean, I did, but not for you.

The seaside.

- What? - Where's the nearest seaside?

- You want to go to the seaside? - Yeah.

Okay.

Let's do it.

Whoa.

You mustn't do that.

- Whose is the cab? - My dad's.

- He lets you use it? - Yeah.

No.

You drive it without him knowing?

- Just this once. - I'm shocked.

Sorry.

Why tonight?

I don't know.

Sometimes you just do things, don't you?

- I felt happy. - Great. Thanks.

Here you go, kids.

A 99... double Flake,

chocolate sauce, and hundreds and thousands, please.

Uh, same.

Please. Thanks.

Are you unhappy the rest of the time?

No. Why?

Just the way you said, "I felt happy."

I'm fine.

Maybe I took the cab because I knew

that out there was a mad girl

who really, really badly wanted to go to the seaside.

Thank you.

- Run. - What?

Run.

Hey!

No, thanks.

This is Saturday night at the seaside.

It's wonderful.

Or it's very wonderful,

depending on your state of mind.

Personally, I prefer very wonderful.

I don't want to be alone tonight.

No.

- Do you have a girlfriend? - No.

- Do you? - No.

I don't have a boyfriend either.

I don't know your name.

And I don't know yours.

Are you gonna tell me?

No.

- Do your mum and dad live here? - My mum's dead.

- Sorry. - It's all right.

Your dad?

He works nights.

The drawer in the kitchen.

Uh, which one?

Yeah, that one. The knife.

Your turn.

- No. - Yes.

- No way. - Yes.

Aah!

- No. - Go on.

- No. - Yes.

- No! - Yes.

Yes.

- No. - Go on.

No, no.

Okay.

Wait, wait.

I'm going now.

I'm gonna go.

Hey.

I'm gonna...

I'm gonna go now.

Oh!

Fishing-boat head office

on behalf of the Maritime and Coastguard Agency at 001...

There are warnings of gales...

All right? Okay, out you get, sir.

Take it easy.

We're at an RTA now.

- What happened? - Um, Bowman Street.

But they are no other units available.

I don't know. Um...

- Okay. We will. - The corner.

Have you been drinking this evening, sir?

- Jeary, we've got to go. - What?

Two minutes away... Serious incident right now.

No other units available.

The whole world's gone to a murder in Stock Hill.

Put the boy in the car.

Bravo-Alpha-6-3 responding.

- What about the cab? - We're leaving the cab.

We're putting the kid in the car, and we're going.

All right. Can you get in the car, please?

It's all right.

Where are we going? What incident?

Please be quiet, young man.

- Don't move. - Is she dead?

What? Who?

Can I do this?

Let me go in.

Bravo-Alpha-6-3.

RTA at the scene.

Constable Q694 is on his way in.

Roger that. Backup on its way.

Are you the neighbor that put in the call?

I live just there.

Okay, well, someone will be along to interview you later.

- Okay. - Don't get cold.

Stay in the car.

Oh, Lord.

Detective Superintendent Box.

Can I get this sealed off?

Nobody in or out unless I say so.

What's he doing? Hey, hey!

Hey, hey, hey! This is a crime scene.

What the hell are you doing throwing up

all over my crime scene?

Come here.

Throw up in there.

All right, who's that... the neighbor that put the call in?

- Sorry, sir. - Never mind the sorrys.

Just sharpen up and answer the question.

Damage-only RTA, sir. Suspected drink drive.

We got the shout for this at the scene of the crash.

You did the right thing.

- Now focus. - I'll get back

- to you when I hear. - What's in there?

A dead body, sir... Wound to the chest.

In the bedroom... First floor, back room.

- Male or female? - Female.

Right, get your drink driver down to the nick,

process him, change your uniform.

Good, lad.

- Some ABH. - ABH, what?!

ABH? I didn't do no ABH!

Bring him in, Jears.

Seriously, but come on.

- Just let me go. - Give me your name,

- and we'll take it from there. - I ain't giving you my name!

Is it proper facial hair?

All right, now, calm down, calm down.

Calm down? I ain't calming down, seriously.

- Go on, get in! - Okay.

- Get me out of here. - Get him out. Out.

And proper search.

Oi! Get off me, man!

- Name? - Ben.

Coulter.

- Frisk him, Briggs. - Sarge!

- What? - I'm a woman.

This police station is killing itself to keep up.

Do you object to this married woman searching you?

Thank you. Do the search.

Yes, please, Constable.

Mr. Coulter was found in his crashed vehicle

in Bowman Street.

I arrested him on suspicion of drink driving.

No, I didn't.

I didn't get that far.

Then you better arrest him now.

Cheers.

Ah, governor. What's the score?

Dead female. Knife wound to the chest.

Sexual assault gone wrong, we think.

Neighbor saw a black cab leaving the scene.

- What was that, sir? - Black cab, Constable.

So, we're looking for a knife

with a blade approximately an inch and 1/4...

With a blade approximately an inch and 1/4 wide.

- Where was the RTA? - Bowman Street.

- Time? - 1:35.

What's your name, son?

My name is Ben Coulter.

- Constable Jeary. - Yes, sir?

This one is yours.

Arrest this man on suspicion of the murder of Melanie Lloyd.

No.

You've got it all wrong!

Take it easy, son.

You've got it wrong.

I didn't do anything.

- Please. - Shh, shh, shh. Shh, shh.

- Get off! - Look.

Please!

Shh. Shh, shh. Shh, shh, shh.

Don't look at me.

- Don't look at me! - I can't breathe.

If you're talking, you're breathing.

Face against the wall!

Off.

- Pants. - No.

Stop fighting us, Ben. Do this easy.

Come on. It helps all of us.

You're a scene, Ben, just like the house.

We need everything we can get from a scene.

Get the pants.

Off.

I'm asthmatic.

Where's your Ventolin?

Here you are. Put this on.

Five-minute checks.

There's just one more thing we need from you.

Do we have consent?

What's happening? Consent for what?

You can say no to this if you want to.

My name's Dr. Gerrard.

I need to take a sample from inside your penis.

If you say no, we'll have to get permission from my boss,

and he'll say yes, of course.

It'll just take a bit longer.

So it's going to happen anyway.

And if you refuse now, it can be used against you in court.

And I don't want you disadvantaged, Ben.

You really can say no if you want to.

Say the words for me, Ben.

I consent.

Do you want me to stay?

Okay.

Jump out of the suit and on your side, please.

Will it hurt?

Yes.

Dad, try to listen.

Get your hands off me!

Get your hands off me!

Murder, Dad.

Just come, Dad.

That's your lot, son.

You're needed.

I've got to go.

Here comes your man, Ben, in all his glory.

My name is Stone.

- Are you the... - Shut up. Good boy.

Ohh!

What is it, that blinking thing you do?

Some sort of tic, is it?

I've seen some tics in my time.

They can be very endearing, or they can go the other way

and have a whiff of the psychopath about them.

This tic I'm not so sure about.

Aeration for my eczema.

I'm glad you're here.

- You're an asthmatic. - Yeah.

Same family as eczema.

Juries love an asthmatic.

The asthma killer.

The sex brute who can't breathe very well.

Doesn't play, does it?

- Sex brute? - Mm.

That's what this lot will be feeding the press with.

- She was... - I'm gonna tell you something.

And it is the most important thing

that you will hear in your entire life,

so don't not hear it.

- What? - Shut it.

I-I don't understand.

They come up with their story.

We come up with ours.

The jury gets to decide which story they like best.

The best story wins.

Now, the good news for us is, we get to hear what their story is

before we have to tell them what ours is, so we keep shtum

until we know what they're doing.

Story? Why do you keep saying that?

I want to just tell you the truth.

You really, really don't.

I don't want to be stuck with the truth.

But you need to know whether I'm guilty or innocent.

I need to be flexible.

Then I want somebody else.

15 years.

What?

Don't listen to this Daily Mail nonsense about early release.

It's 15 years you will serve as a lifer.

And you know what?

That's three years too long.

12 years some people can do

and come out with a chance of being a human being again.

But 15? No.

They've lost too much.

You can see it in their eyes.

The shop is shut.

Winning is everything, Ben.

Forget the truth.

Now...

the custody clock is ticking down.

They have got 24 hours to charge or release you.

So we do everything...

at half speed.

It really winds them up.

And the clock is ticking down.

- Ready? - Cup of tea would be nice.

No rush.

You go "no comment" to every single question,

except to agree they've got your name right.

Now, the judge will tell the jury

that they can infer guilt from your silence.

But I've been a no-comment man all my working life,

and it has never let me down.

You will give evidence.

Our brief will ask you

why you went "no comment" in the police station.

- And you tell them. - Tell them what?

That your hard-nosed solicitor made you do it.

The jury will look at you...

Nice boy, no form, a little bit of asthma.

Then they look at me.

And they buy it.

Why can't I...

What's wrong with just telling them?

This is their life, Ben.

It's what they do every single day.

You're at a massive disadvantage here.

You have got to shut up until you know enough not to.

And I really think you should lose the tic.

Can you do that for me?

Good lad.

Why did you try to get out of the police car?

- No comment. - Were you running away?

No comment.

She fought you, didn't she?

No comment.

That's why you've got injuries on your chest.

You broke into her house, and you sexually assaulted her,

and she fought like crazy for her life.

No.

- No comment. - Oh, Lord.

Did your solicitor tell you to answer "no comment"?

No comment.

"Is she dead?"

- What? - What are you talking about,

"Is she dead?"

It's what you said in the back of the police car, Ben.

- Do you recall saying that? - You don't have to answer that.

How did you know the deceased was a female?

We hadn't mentioned it.

Nor had we said anything about anyone being dead.

Don't call her that.

- What? - A female.

Like she's an animal or something.

What should we call her?

- I don't know her name. - Melanie.

Are we gonna find traces of Melanie all over you?

Would you rather we called her the deceased female

- after all? - Stop the tape.

- You're uniform. - Yes.

Why are you doing this? Where are the detectives?

I thought we were going along quite well.

Where is he?

Where's Box?

His time with the body.

The Golden Hour.

A good, long look at the scene can tell you such a lot.

Excuse me. Thank you.

My name is Detective Superintendent Box.

You're not ready to talk to anyone,

but there will come a time when you will want help,

and you'll want answers.

Call me.

Cut out all the in between and ring me up

day or night, Mr. Lloyd.

I'm sorry, Dad.

I couldn't even drive it properly.

All those years in the back. I thought it would be easy.

You don't know anyone called Melanie.

Mum, I was there.

They're not mistaken.

But why?

I was there.

And then I went to sleep.

And when I woke up, she was dead.

And then I ran away.

Well, have you told them that?

- Why not, love? - The solicitor told me not to.

Well, listen, I'm gonna get you someone proper.

All right? 'Cause you're getting out of here, Ben.

You... You'll be all right, son.

Oh, thank you.

And thank you for letting us see him.

Um, is it...

Can he have this?

- Against all the rules. - Mary.

Mother's Pride never killed anyone.

Off home, sir?

It's quarter to 5:00 in the morning.

Two-murder night, and we haven't spoken.

- What do you want? - More men.

What do you want more men for?

I heard your suspect in the Melanie murder

was bang to rights.

I had to use two uniform to interview him

because the three C.I.D. boys available

are up at the Stock Hill estate on the junkie murder.

That's just how it is, Box.

Meanwhile, you've got half the nick out there

pulling in 20 drink drives each

so that you can get enough detections

for your precious government target.

Why don't you get it? It's a very simple equation.

We miss our targets, they cut our budget.

We end up with even less time to do police work.

I don't like it either, but I have to make choices.

- It's the same as... health. - Health?

Shall we keep the old-soak liver failure going,

or shall we save the 9-year-old?

We're no different.

One pot of money and one pot of coppers.

- Good night, Box. - So the answer is no?

The answer is no.

You've got to get smart, Ben.

- I answered "no comment." - Some of the time.

What's the jury gonna make of that?

Here's a boy who answers the easy ones

and then shuts up when the going gets tough.

How does that look?

- Sorry. - Box will do

the next interview himself.

He's a bit of a rarity.

Most bosses don't bother now that everything's taped.

But Box still does them.

Why?

'Cause he's a talented oppressor.

Like all good coppers, he does you over inside the rules.

He's a subtle beast.

He seems like a decent man.

Like I said...

he's subtle.

Thank God for the taped interview, eh, Box?

Vital protection for you boys.

I don't know what you're on about.

Well, quality villains can't make up the nasty things

that policemen have supposedly said to them

in interviews anymore.

Now, what would you know about quality villains, Stone?

You're a slappers and dippers man, aren't you?

Right. Thank you.

My name is Harry Box, detective superintendent.

Also present are...

Constable Karen Briggs, Q485.

The table has gone.

Detective Superintendent Box

believes this creates a less formal atmosphere,

which is also why he has a woman police officer present.

Apparently, all this makes it more likely

a suspect will talk to him.

It's a ploy he's fond of using...

More women, fewer tables.

My name is Ralph Stone, solicitor.

Also present is the accused.

Ben Coulter.

Right, now, I'm going to ask you about the science

and blood in particular.

But first, because I'm a fair man,

I'm going to let you know how it's going to look

on the science front.

We'll have her on you, you on her.

We'll have you on the knife, the knife on you.

We'll have you on the house, the house on you.

We'll have you on the cab, the cab on you.

- The knife on the cab... - Is this a question?

What I really want to know, Ben... Is there anything,

anything at all, that you want to say to me?

My client cannot be expected

to comment on scientific evidence we don't even have yet.

I'm struggling here, Ben.

The nice lad with the loving mum who brings him sandwiches

is also someone who picks up a complete stranger

in the middle of the night.

Why?

To have sex with her?

No.

- Did you have sex with her? - Yes.

Look, I'm sorry.

- Can we stop, please? - No, we can't do that, Ben.

I'm not like any of this!

I'm not what you're turning me into!

Just try to understand, Ben.

That's a boy.

Can you help me?

No comment.

The evidence is so strong.

You're really going to need to start talking, Ben Coulter.

Then charge him.

When you have sufficient evidence, you must charge.

What's stopping you?

He doesn't feel right, does he?

You're very proud of your gut and your nose,

but neither of them are fancying my boy for this.

Are they...

Harry Box?

I want to tell the truth.

You're the jury, Ben.

Run the truth by yourself.

Who killed Melanie Lloyd?

Is it the boy with the blood all over him

and the knife in his pocket

and the hopeless taped interview?

Or is it someone else?

It's not hard, is it?

The truth can go to hell,

and if you don't get that into your head right now,

forget about the rest of your life.

They said five-minute checks.

Why's it changed?

What are you reading?

Could I get some air?

You can go for a cigarette.

- I don't smoke. - That's the rule.

Smoking... yes. Fresh air... no.

Can I go for a cigarette?

You don't smoke.

I've just started.

What did your mum say?

Did you tell her it wasn't you?

And does she believe you?

She's my mum.

So, what's the answer to my question?

Your solicitor's upstairs having coffee in the police canteen.

It's a big club, really,

the criminal-justice system.

I'm not a member.

I don't like the idea of a double life.

My job is to lock up bad people.

I don't see why I want to be friends

with anyone who's trying to stop me doing that.

That's why I'm down here with you

and not drinking coffee with Mr. Stone.

You shouldn't be doing this, should you?

I really, really love my job.

But now and again, I get frustrated by the rules.

And with the likes of yourself,

I would like to drop all the formal business...

and just talk.

- You can cut through everything. - What do you mean?

This is the most open-and-shut case

that I've handled in a very long time.

So why don't you charge me?

Because I like you.

'Cause I want it to be over for you.

It's something they all say...

Is there is an immense sense of relief...

when you tell someone.

Like finding God.

It looks like I killed her.

That's how it looks.

Maybe you didn't mean to.

Sometimes stuff just happens.

I want to go back inside now.

Thank you.

Big man.

You call it.

Charge him.

- It's okay. - Oh.

I've never been up on a careless driving.

The stipe will be so thrilled it's not sex you're here for,

we'll walk away with a slapped wrist.

Okay, Paul?

It's Pauline.

Oh. Good boy.

I'll be right back.

Ben Coulter. Stephen Ticehurst.

- I'm Ben Coulter. - Oh.

I'm your barrister, and this is Hugo Curry, your solicitor.

What about Mr. Stone?

Your dad wants to use us.

Yes, Mr. Curry here,

because he's a solicitor, can't really be frank with you

about another member of his profession, but I can.

And my five seconds with Mr. Stone just now

tells me everything I need to know.

- What? - Well, he's second-class.

You can smell low-level crime all over him.

You're more important than that, Ben.

You need a better class of person looking after you.

Okay?

Okay. Here's what we do.

I'm sorry. I've got some other lawyers now.

Oh.

Right.

Okay.

Good.

I've got to go upstairs and do Paul... Pauline.

- What's this? - From Mr. Stone.

- I don't smoke. - Take them.

They're currency where you're going.

Hey. Hey!

He took the cigarettes.

Are you sure? Maybe you're mistaken about that.

He took the cigarettes from me.

Come and get them, grass boy.

Ben Coulter.

When you went through the red light,

what gear were you in?

Uh, basically the same as I'm in now.

I'm sorry?

Dolce & Gabbana.

Three points on your license and £100 or one day.

Yes, Madam Clerk?

Number 13 on your list, madam.

Ben Coulter. Charged with murder.

Mr. Coulter was found

three streets from the crime scene

in possession of the knife which has been identified

as belonging to the premises where the crime took place.

The knife has blood on it.

Is there a bail application?

Two grounds of objection... failure to appear

and fear that he could commit further offenses.

Mr. Ticehurst.

Ordinarily, I wouldn't even think

about making a bail application in a case like this.

However, I have a great advantage

over everyone in this court.

I've spent quality time with my client this morning.

I've looked into his eyes and seen something

very straightforward and clear.

This is a young man determined to prove his innocence.

People like that do not run away. They do not skip bail.

Why? 'Cause they want to get into court

and prove to the world that they did not do

what is alleged against them.

You can't give him bail. You can't.

Bail is a right and not a privilege.

There have to be reasons for refusing it.

I can see none.

I've listened very carefully to Mr. Ticehurst.

Bail is refused on both grounds.

Mr. Coulter, you'll be remanded in custody.

Next, please, Madam Clerk.

Can I see my son, then, please?

Will you let me see my son, please?!

Dad.

Will you let me see my son?!

Ben.

Ben.

Ben, Ben. Keep your head down.

Don't talk to anyone unless you have to.

And here's my card.

Just in case you change your mind, okay?

Not often I see you giving advice for nothing.

Yeah, well...

How much would you make off a decent murder

if it goes all the way?

Just wondering.

Coulter?!

Is that you whimpering?!

Ben Coulter, everybody!

Ooh!

We got a grass on board.

He needs to be in with a grown-up.

Somebody who won't have him for breakfast.

Rar!

What are you in for?

I cut a man's arm off with a meat cleaver. You?

The whole wing knows about Ben Coulter... rapist, murderer.

I didn't do this. Do you believe me?

No one on the wing believes you.

We've got the best criminal- justice system in the world,

and the jury will get it right.

Unless you've got Perry Mason lined up to be my junior,

we're completely down the plughole

on this one, aren't we, Hugo?

You know, some people still believe ugly white men

with broken noses are the bosses.

Are they in charge?

Freddie's the boss.

Is there anything else?

Yeah.

Milroy. He won't go away.

Do you want Freddie Graham to help you?

Or do you prefer dead in the shower with your guts cut out

and your smart brains all over the floor?

You plead guilty to manslaughter.

You'll be sentenced for that.

And there will be no murder trial.

I'd be saying that I killed her.

You're being offered this because it's obvious

- that you killed her. - Do you plead guilty

or not guilty?