All language subtitles for Inspector Lynley 5x04 In the Blink of an Eye

I was wondering if you'd call.

Tonight?

Yeah, tonight's perfect.

Yeah, OK.

Peter Rooker, 38 years old. Found 40
minutes ago in an alleyway in Soho.

Gunshot wounds to the leg
and head. No witnesses.

- How is he still alive?
- By a miracle.

The bullet passed between
the frontal lobes.

- Nothing. Still VF.
- Adrenaline wide.

Looks like he was a photographer.

OK. Victim's wallet,
mobile phone, keys, camera

and what looks like a
coat tag from a club.

- Number 19?
- It's on Wardour Street.

We'll need to shock him again.

- We found his press card.
- Again.

No. Going again. 360 Charge.

Clear!

Asystole.

That's it. Everyone in agreement?
We'll stop resuscitation there.

Time of death 22.15.

Doctor, is there anything
else you can tell me?

Well, I don't think it's
the first time he's been shot.

This looks like an old bullet wound.

And by the scarring, I'd
say that was a back-room job.

What, not done in a hospital?

Well, if it was a hospital,
it wasn't this country.

You have that look in
your eyes, both of you.

The look that says you're not
planning to go home any time soon.

You gonna put me in a cab?

What and wave you off into the night?
What kind of man do you think I am?

Found the body yet, Lafferty?

Very droll. Might have found
the murder weapon, though.

Bit of a gift, if it is

I'll do a check on it. There's
no need to dress up for us.

Thought we'd show the proper
respect your work is due.

About time, too! How's it goin',
Mrs Lynley? You back with us?

No, this is someone's idea
of showing a girl a good time.

Anything else?

Murder weapon not enough for you?

POSSIBLE murder weapon.

This is where he fell.
Paramedics found him on his back.

The entry wound for the second shot
was the mid-forehead.

The entry wound for the first
shot was the back of the knee,

- which suggests...
- The killer was behind him.

OK, we've got the
head here, feet there?

And Rooker is travelling in
this direction down the alley.

so the killer behind him,
shoots him in the leg.

He drops here. Rolls over.

- Sees the killer.
- Coming towards him.

- Shoots him in the head.
- You don't really need me!

No, but you brighten the place
up for us, you know. You do.

Where was he headed, then?
Where'd he come from?

There's a pub round the corner. The
hospital said he stank of booze.

- Check it out.
- Um, excuse me,

can I go home now or have you got
a surprise visit to the mortuary planned?

I'm sorry. It IS going to
be a late one, isn't it?

Here, I'll see you at home, take the car.

That is a bit of a first.

- Go on - before I change my mind.
- I'm going.

Get on to Winston, tell him
to go round to Rooker's flat

and see what he can find.

Hey, is that what I think it is?

Sorry, mate, that
camera's just for show.

There's no film, Mr McGuire?

No, brewery said they
were going to fix it.

Exciting night?

No more than usual. We cater for
real drinkers here, the real Soho,

not your poncey media types with
their bottles of foreign lager.

- Have you seen this man before?
- No.

Can you try looking at
the picture first, please?

Was he in here tonight?

Could have been. This
is the West End, love.

We get a thousand plus punters in 'ere
every week. I ain't that good with faces.

Who uses the alleyway?

Dealers, methadone addicts, pros,

people taking the shortcut
to Tottenham Court Road tube.

It's like one big filthy urinal.

Hello?

Police.

DC Nkata - Control.
Requesting backup.

Suspected break-in at 25
Elliot Street, Marylebone.

Intruder possibly still on
the premises. I'm entering now.

Calm down, calm down.

It's OK. I'm a police officer.

My ID... is in my pocket.

Will you let me get it?

OK?

Now...

I need you to put the gun down and
tell me exactly what happened here.

OK?

Can you do that?

OK.

- Should've done more to stop her.
- No, you did the right thing.

She had a gun, you didn't.

Did you get any sense
of who she might be?

Didn't get a sense of anything. She
never said a word. She looked traumatised.

- Was she injured?
- No.

- So it's not her blood, then?
- Rooker's?

Both his injuries would have been
sustained in the alleyway.

Third party?

Well, we'll run a DNA profile as soon
as possible, see what it throws up.

And check out the A&Es at all
the local hospitals, will you?

So, Rooker suffers a fatal shooting...

in Soho, and then there's
a second firearms

incident at his flat in Marylebone.

Well, she shot Rooker
first and then came here?

But there was a gun in the alleyway

and her second gun.

Why does she need two guns?

Whatever. He must've been
involved in something pretty deep.

Well, here's a theory. Whether
she killed Rooker or not,

she breaks in and gets a nasty surprise.

- Yeah, someone else is here.
- She shoots them.

Third party is wounded, but
escapes. She stays here. Why?

She's looking for something?

Probably something difficult to find.
Liked the lived-in look, didn't he?

- Hmm.
- This is her.

You're kidding me?

I just found it on his bedside table.

They were close then. Girlfriend?

Seems odd that she had to force the
door. You'd think she'd have a key.

Perhaps they'd fallen out. Not much
evidence of a woman's touch here.

My guess is she doesn't live here.

Unless she's a slob, too

Winston, head back. Circulate the
photo, put out an observation call.

Make sure they know she's armed.

Priority. We need to find
her as soon as possible.

Havers, I don't care
if it takes all night,

this flat is going to
get turned upside down.

It already is, isn't it?!

So he was that kind of photographer.

- Paparazzi?
- Paparazzo.

Paparazzi is plural.

If you're trying to
make me look stupid...

He wasn't exactly in demand.

The only entry in his diary this
week is a car registration number.

Ooh, no, hang on, er, he had a meeting
last week with a Melissa Booth.

Ooh, isn't she, um,
the newspaper editor?

One of the big tabloids. Maybe
things were looking up for him?

David!

- Three minutes.
- David!

- What's this supposed to be?
- Piece on the teenage crime wave

I don't think so. There's a theory that
if you give an infinite number of monkeys

an infinite number of typewriters,
they'll eventually write Hamlet.

THIS is what you get from
fewer monkeys in less time.

Give me a teenage crime wave, David.

And who are you?

A photographer meeting directly
with the editor of a tabloid newspaper

struck me as out of the ordinary.

Usually would be.

- Isn't that a job for the picture desk?
- Yeah.

How did you hear about his death?

I got a call at 3 am this morning
from my chief crime correspondent.

- He thought I'd want to know.
- How did you take the news?

With a Valium and a large scotch.

- You were close then?
- Once, yes. Very

I just heard the news. All
those war zones he came back from

and he winds up dead in London

- I'm so sorry.
- Don't.

Inspector Lynley, Eddie
Price - my husband and my boss.

A very hands-off one. Not much
choice with her in the chair.

Obviously, this is not a good time.

Darling, if you need me,
I'll be down the hall.

The last time I saw Peter,
he looked a bit worse for wear.

Maybe he'd run up a
tab he couldn't pay off?

You're talking about it him
like he was some kind of addict.

We don't have to trample his
name in the dirt already, do we?

We would if he was anyone else.

I'm sorry.
Your husband said "war zones"

I thought Mr Rooker was paparazzo.

First Gulf War.

- He was good, wasn't he?
- He was a real talent.

Was that the kind of picture he
was trying to sell you last week?

He packed in real photography
when he came back from Bosnia.

When he was down to his last 50 quid, he
tried to beat the paparazzi at their own game.

Maybe it wasn't the soft
option he thought it was.

If you could get me the property
that matches this tag, please?

- Can I help you?
- Sorry. You are?

Michael Wren. I manage this place

I'm Detective Sergeant Havers. I'm
investigating the murder of a Mr Peter Rooker.

- Peter?
- Yeah, I'm afraid so.

Are you sure?

- Has he been identified?
- We're sure.

- Murdered how?
- He was shot.

I heard there was a shooting
in an alley off Dean Street.

So you knew Peter Rooker?

- You could say that.
- What does that mean?

He was the best friend I ever had.

How did you meet?

Belfast 1983.

He was on an assignment for the New
York Times. I was with the Paras.

We both drank in the same pub.

He could drink me and all my men under the
table and make us laugh while he was doing it.

- And what about recently? How was he?
- He could barely raise a smile.

What kind of pictures did he
try and sell you last week?

Some C-list celebrity.

- Did you buy them?
- Yes.

- When did they run?
- They didn't

I've bought dozens of Peter's pictures over the
last ten years and I think I've used them once.

It drives Eddie mad,
but it's my prerogative.

Sounds like charity...
or something deeper.

Is that what Mr Price
really gets mad about?

No. Eddie's always known and accepted
that Peter Rooker was my first big love.

What went wrong?

Well, I don't know. Peter changed.

He lost his spirit. Actually,
that's an understatement.

How did he seem to you
when you saw him last week?

Particularly anxious about anything?

Peter was anxious in
his sleep, Inspector.

Awake, he was a nervous wreck.

Awake and sober, at least.

"Self-medication", he called it.

Four large vodkas and a Diazepam was what
it took to drag him down to mere anxiety.

Did you still see him, socially?

No. I love my husband.

Being mates with exes
never works, does it?

So when did you last see Mr Rooker?

- Yesterday.
- At what time?

He was here about seven.

Is he a member of the club?

Unofficially.
Through me, if you like.

- So, he came to speak to you?
- Yeah.

What did you talk about?

Nothing significant.

Look, he was talking about how he
was sick of Melissa Booth's handouts,

that if she didn't print his
pictures, he'd send the cheque back.

I told him not to be so stupid
as to bite the hand that feeds.

He didn't like that.

So it's fair to say
he left under a cloud?

Perhaps that's why he forgot his coat?

He didn't have much choice. I slung
him out. The place was heaving

I couldn't have one of his tantrums.

What, especially with him
not being a member?

Exactly.

- Did he say where he was going to?
- No.

Well, what time did he leave?
It was about eight o'clock.

- Are you sure?
- Yeah, why?

Well, shots were heard at 9.10.

The alleyway that he was killed is,
what, a five-minute walk max from here?

So what was he doing
between eight and nine?

He could've been doing anything.

Like?

Well, he was drinking heavily, already.
He was off his head on something.

Take your pick with Peter.

Do you know her?

Her name's Nina.

- How do you know her?
- She works here.

And what's her relationship
with Peter Rooker?

Peter was her legal guardian when she
first came over from Bosnia in '95.

Is she working today?

She's supposed to be, but she's been
off for a couple of days with flu.

- Right, I'll need an address.
- Don't have one.

She's cash in hand, you know.

Are you telling me you don't have
your employees' addresses?

Of course, but,
she's not been here long.

OK, next of kin?

Well, that would be Peter.

Is she in some kind of trouble?

Yeah, well, let's just say
she's in possession of a firearm

and not in a stable frame of mind.

So if there's anything that you
can tell us to help us find her.

Like I told you, I-I-I can't
help you with what I don't know.

OK, do us a favour, check your records,
see if you can't rustle up a surname.

Look, I-I've told you...

It'll save me having
to go to the tax office.

Mr Price, can I have a word?

I've got a car waiting.
Call my secretary.

She'll book an appointment.

- Peter Rooker. Did you know him?
- A little.

And his relationship with your wife?

- Ended years ago.
- I'm sorry

I meant his professional
relationship with your wife.

Is that what the dig
about his habit was about?

I was just trying to be helpful.

Not how Ms Booth interpreted it.

Nasty bruise on your cheek there, sir.

What are you suggesting?

Nothing. Just wondering how you got it?

There's a sordid little scene
playing out in your head, isn't there?

I wasn't aware of one.

My wife's ex-lover
comes back into her life

and they embark on a steamy affair?

I find out about it and I
beat seven bells out of him

I suppose I give him some sort
of macho speech about

staying away
from her. And then what?

I smell his cheap aftershave
on her some time afterwards,

take the gun from my desk drawer,

which I keep there just for such an
occasion, and I blow his head off?

Bit cliched, isn't it?

So, offer me an alternative.

I got Melissa on the rebound.
I knew it then and I know it now

and I was still the
luckiest man in the world.

Fun, smart and beautiful.

Truth is, I don't think she even
loved me the day we got married,

but I told her love can
grow... and it has.

Plus she got to be editor of a
national newspaper, of course.

She was always honest about
her ambition and drive.

Like she was about her
relationship with Peter Rooker?

Trust is the basis of a happy marriage.

Sure I wasn't crazy about her paying
for those photos we never ran with.

But it wasn't jealousy,
I just hate waste.

That's the way I was brought up. But it made
Melissa happy and if she's happy, I'm happy.

Must've stuck in some people's throats,
you parachuting her into the top job?

Newsrooms are shark pools.

It's not so much sink or swim as
swim or get chewed to death by 11.30.

If Melissa couldn't hack it, me being the
owner of the paper wouldn't mean anything.

And the bruise?

I walked into a bog
door, after a few drinks.

Well, thank you, Mr Price.
You've been very helpful.

That's all right. Oh, if you
wanna speak to me again,

give me some notice
and I'll bring my lawyers.

Rooker was Nina's
guardian. Anything else?

She works for Wren at the club.

She hasn't been in the last two days.

He claims not to know where she is.

Do you believe him?

Well, it's a start.
What's the club like?

Exclusive hangout for celebrity types.

Well, it fits with him
being a paparazzo.

Yeah, it must have been handy
for Rooker to have a mate

who runs a bar for C-listers.

It's hard to see why these kind of pictures
should lead to him taking a bullet.

You don't have to be Quincy, to ascertain
cause of death, as gunshot wound to the head.

The angle of entry, the blood spray of
the scene, the possition of the body

all confirmed that we talked last night

the killer was behind
Rooker, shot him in the leg,

and then in the head, once
he was on the ground.

Range?

There's smoke soiling around
the entry wound here,

and propellor burn and soot
tattooing across the forehead.

The gun can't been fired from more than
a meter away, for that second shot.

But the leg shot was from the back more than
a meter, because there's no soot or burn.

What know we also the angle
of entry and exit.

The leg was extended back
at the moment of impact.

Rooker was running?

So why not shoot him in the back?
It's a much bigger target.

Because if you shoot him in the
back, he might kill him straightaway.

He doesn't want it to be over too fast.

This way, you shatter the
kneecap which immobilises him

and causes him a hell of a lot of pain.

Yeah, but why do it like that?

Why take more time and risk
being caught in the act?

Maybe the killer wanted him to know
who it was who was killing him?

It was a risk he was prepared to take.
Hmm.

I don't know what this gives you, but
your man was so living on borrowed time.

We heard he wasn't
exactly clean-living.

He'd suffered severe liver damage,
had excessively high alcohol content.

But he was also riddled
with tumorous tissue.

What? Cancer?

When we're done here, we should
pack him off to the Science Museum.

He was a dead man walking.
There's something else, too.

As you can see, they're yellowing,

which means they predate death by at
least one day, at most a few days.

And there's broken skin and
swelling on his knuckles.

All signs that he was in a fight.

The gun found at the scene
is not the murder weapon.

That would've been far too easy.

It's a recommissioned firearm.
Nice job, too, apparently

I bet my pay check whoever did this

is well-known to the firearms division.

Good thing you got private income.

Well, I'll get some names and
cross-reference it with West End Central.

Ballistics say it'd never been fired.

Well, that would suggest
it's a recent purchase.

How would Rooker get his hands on it?

It's his prints all over it.

Well, why did he feel he needed a gun?

Melissa Booth talked of
his pathological anxiety.

Well, maybe his anxiety
wasn't quite so pathological.

- How's it going, Winston?
- Slowly.

There's thousands of images here.
What am I looking for?

Anyone or anything that
could've caused his death

I might not know it when I see it

I have complete faith in you.

No pressure, then.

This is all I got so far.

This, from two weeks ago.

Two weeks and one day, to be precise.

That's Melissa Booth.

For a guy who looked like he
might ask you for 20 pence,

he was pretty thorough
with his indexing.

- These were taken 15 days ago?
- Exactly.

Mr Price wouldn't be quite so Zen
about things if he'd seen these.

They'd resumed their relationship.

- Looks like they never fell out of love.
- Yeah, funny she didn't mention it.

Isn't it?

- Shall we hit her with it?
- No,

no, let's keep our powder dry.

See if we can find out what
else she's not telling us.

Sir? Peter Rooker's bank statements.

For the last year, there's been a monthly debit
of 400 quid going to a letting agency in Camden

Camden? I thought he
lived in Marylebone?

Well exactly, so I
talked to the agency.

He's been paying the rent on a
one-bedroom flat on the high street.

The tenant's name, Nina Delic.

This is much nicer than Rooker's flat.

Obviously takes his guardian
duties very seriously.

Yeah.

Tough guy with a heart?

You know, the more we find out about
this bloke Rooker, the less he adds up.

Bit like when I first met you.

- Meaning?
- Well, posh guy with a heart.

Didn't quite make sense.

Thanks very much,
Havers! Science-defying.

This morning's post. She
must've been here today.

Junk, junk, junk.

Well, it's small but perfectly formed.

Who the hell are you?

We were under the impression
that Nina lived here alone.

She does, officially. I sublet.

You know what rents are like
in London. I sleep in here.

We're investigating the death of
Peter Rooker. Did you know him?

Yeah, yeah. He's Nina's guardian.

- He rents this place for her.
- Do you know where Nina is?

No, she hasn't been home
the last couple of nights.

Has she called?

No, and she always does if
she's spending the night out.

- Have you've tried her?
- Yeah, her... her mobile's switched off.

Do you know where she might be?

Her boyfriend Michael's?

Michael...?

I don't know his surname,
but he runs Number 19 in Soho

Michael Wren. Rooker's friend.

Sorry about that.

Did Rooker know about the relationship?

...Peter always wanted the best for
Nina, but he could be quite controlling.

She said he'd go crazy if she
had to drop out of college.

Well, why would she have to drop out?

- No specific reason.
- Is that what Michael wanted?

SHE never said that.

Then why was she discussing
leaving college at all?

Look, if you think in
holding something back,

you're somehow being loyal
to Nina, you're mistaken.

She's pregnant.

I want an unmarked car parked outside.

We've got a trace on
Nina's phone, haven't we?

We should have. I'll double-check.

I thought you army chaps were
meant to be big on loyalty.

Cut to the chase, please. I've
got a party of 70 coming in at one.

You're the father of her child and
you couldn't even give me an address.

It was when you mentioned
her waving the gun around.

I knew it was my gun.

She must've taken it from
the drawer in my office.

So you knew your gun was missing?

Never crossed my mind
it was Nina, though.

You did report it missing?

I thought I'd have a go
at getting it back myself.

In violation of your licence.

My licence expired eight months ago.

And it also stipulates that it should
be kept in a locked steel cabinet.

Exactly.

Tell us about Nina?

She could be a laugh.
She's great-looking, obviously.

When she told me she was pregnant,
I didn't freak out or anything.

But?

She has an unpredictable side. I don't
know if I can handle that long term.

And you told her that? Is that why she
hasn't been here for the past two days?

She's not ill with flu, is she?

No, I didn't tell her that.

She just took off in
the middle of the day.

Said she wasn't coming back.

Look, I've wracked my brain thinking
about what I might've said or done.

So do you think Rooker found out about
the affair and talked Nina out of it?

It crossed my mind.

That would have made you
quite angry, wouldn't it?

The thought of Rooker telling her

that she could do better than a barman.

I'm not a barman.

Yeah, even if it IS a posh Soho club.

Look, I know where you're going
with this and you're miles off.

That's what you were arguing with
Rooker about last night? Nina, wasn't it?

Yeah.

OK, so Rooker left here at eight,

he got shot at nine, ten.

And the alley is only five
minutes' walk away from the bar.

We did this last time.

But last time you withheld
to the point of lying

I told you - I don't
know where he went.

What were you doing
between eight and nine?

I was right herethe whole time.

Look, I wish I knew something

I wish I could help you find
whoever it was who killed my mate.

Oh, save it, please.

I could arrest you for the things
you didn't tell my sergeant.

Where is Nina now?

- I don't know.
- Where might she be?

I'll ask around,
talk to the other girls...

Thanks. We're already onto that.

And what will you do
if she does contact you?

Well, I'll call you straight away.

That's right. You won't try
and sort it out on your own.

Look, I'm not stupid.

Got a result from that registration
number we found in Peter Rooker's diary.

Anything interesting?

A black Mercedes, registered to a
private chauffeur-hire company.

- It's a sole trader.
- Andrej Pavletic.

- That makes life easier.
- But that's not the interesting bit.

One of his main clients is Eddie Price.

Wren's just turned up at Nina's flat.

- Has he come out yet?
- No.

- OK. Anyone else gone in?
- No, ma'am.

We going in?

Nah, let's leave it a little bit
longer, see if anything turns up.

Mr Pavletic?

Fancy a stroll, Winston?

Perfect day for it.

- Maybe this... Peter... Rooker?
- Rooker.

Maybe he was a customer?

Then surely you would remember him?

I pick up so many people, from
actors, musicians, restaurateurs,

and on top of that I have my regulars.

Like Eddie Price?

Yes.

Do you talk to Mr Price much
when you're driving him around?

Sometimes.

What do you talk about?

Does he talk about his personal life?

We talk but about weather,
football, politics sometimes.

But I wouldn't know anything
about his private life.

So you wouldn't know how he
got that bruise on his cheek?

No.

Quite a nasty bruise
on the cheekbone. Quite recent.

No, sorry.

This is a picture of Peter Rooker.

Are you sure you don't know him?

Sarah.

You'd better go inside.

OK, you see where our friend is
heading. I'll go light a candle.

Hello, Clare.

- You going away somewhere?
- No.

- What's going on?
- Nothing

I'm not stupid

I bet you if I opened that
bag, I'd find Nina's stuff.

Don't tell me. You had Nina's
best interests at heart?

- I did. I do.
- Well, so do we.

Look, I'm sorry.

She sounded so scared.

- Where was she calling from?
- I don't know.

OK, so you were supposed
to meet her here, then what?

She said she had to get out of London.

And then what was the plan?

Clare?

My sister lives in Cornwall,

Nina was gonna stay with her for
a bit until things blew over.

OK, so where is she now?

I swear I don't know.
She was meant to meet us here.

- What, you and Michael?
- Yeah.

He had to get back to the club

I thought I'd hang around for a few
more minutes, see if she showed up.

Is there something else
you want to tell me?

When I talked to Nina...
I mean, she was worried

about you guys and what
happened with the gun but...

...I don't think that
was the main thing.

In fact...

I'm sure it wasn't.

Look, I've worked hard
to build up my business

and Eddie Price is my best customer.

He's also very powerful.

We're the police, Mr Pavletic.
We have one or two powers of our own.

Right.

I think I know why this man
Rooker had my registration number.

Good.

On Tuesday afternoon I picked
Mr Price up from a club in Soho.

- Which one?
- Number 19.

- He's a member there.
- Go on.

We'd only been going a minute
when he told me to stop the car.

He got out, crossed the road
to a man on the other side.

...Thanks, Sarah.

She's worried I'll say something
that'll lose me my income.

It WAS this man.

They started arguing.

What about?

Well, I couldn't hear
it, but it got physical.

Hence the bruise on his cheek.

It was nothing serious, though.

Just a silly playground scrap.

When you say nothing serious,
24 hours later one of them was dead.

Of course.

Look, I really want to help you,

but is there a way you can not tell
Mr Price you heard this from me?

He could ruin me

I appreciate the concern
for your business,

but it's not one of my
priorities, I'm afraid.

So Melissa Booth was having
an affair with mr Rooker.

Eddie Price flies into a jealous rage.

Too cliche apparently.

Yeah, every cliche has a kernel of truth.

Get Eddie Price in to make a statement.
He can bring as many lawyers as he'd like

Havers... What? That's fantastic!

OK, thanks...

You might want to hold off on getting
Eddie Price in for a couple of hours.

- Why?
- They've found our wounded intruder.

Was there any particular reason to
break into Mr Rooker's flat last night?

Who says I did?

Your shoulder wound and the
blood that we found at the scene.

Answer my question.
Why Mr Rooker's flat?

Random selection.

Really? What were you after?

- Items of value.
- Like what?

I was interrupted by a
mad girl with a Magnum.

If it'd been a Magnum, you would've
needed more than a plaster at A&E.

You're not a petty thief, Luke.
I've seen your criminal record.

- You're classier than that.
- You flatter me.

There's fraud, bugging,
deactivation of alarm systems.

Whatever you were doing in
Rooker's flat is in that ballpark.

When you were last in court,
you should've gone down,

but your youth and your ability with
electronics persuaded the judge to spare you

if went to technical college.

Yeah, how's that course going?

I don't know, I dropped out.

Which won't go down well with the judge
this time. You'll need a kind word from me.

Thanks for the offer.

No, no, no, it's the difference
between six months and three years.

- What do you want?
- What've you got?

All right. I was removing some
bugs I'd put in a few weeks back.

At whose request?

That's a middleman, I don't know.

You're gonna need that kind word, Luke.

- Come on, help me to help you.
- I have.

- I told you what I was doing there.
- Three years, Luke.

Well, that's 15% of your
short, sad life... More.

Who paid you to put the bugs in?

Eddie Price.

You're a clever man, Mr Price.

You almost made me believe
you weren't like the rest of us -

insecure, jealous, selfish.

But you are, aren't you? Just
like the rest of us, only more so.

You probably get this all the time but I
really don't know what you're talking about

I'm talking about your wife

I'm talking about your
attitude to your wife

and your attitude to
her lover, Peter Rooker.

He's not her lover.

You even managed to posit the theory
before I could that you'd killed him.

You dismissed it as cliched,
if I remember.

And it was.

So is claiming that you had a
collision with a toilet door.

Are you going to bark all day
or are you going to bite?

We have several witnesses who
saw you attack Peter Rooker

in Wardour Street three days ago.

We had a row, it ended in a scuffle

- I think it was more than that...
- Who are these witnesses?

Which is why you lied to me
when I asked if you'd seen him.

This row was about
your wife, wasn't it?

I trust my wife.

You said that more
convincingly the first time.

It's true.

This argument, this fight -
what was the flashpoint?

Nothing. It was silly. I was
sick of him sponging off her.

- Oh, so it was just business?
- Right.

And you're a rich prominent figure
in society - well, almost famous -

but you jump out of your
car in broad daylight

and you attack a man in the
street in the middle of Soho?

Now, that smacks to me
more of personal than business

- I had a few drinks at lunchtime.
- You were in a jealous rage

I was stupid.

Stupid to show how violent
your paranoia can make you

- I'm not paranoid.
- And not violent either, I suppose?

You're only paranoid when
there's nothing going on.

You and Peter Rooker had
rekindled the flame, hadn't you?

- Yes.
- Starting when?

- Two or three months ago.
- Why?

I suppose it was always
a case of when, not why.

So what made you wait ten years?

I resisted my feelings.

Plus you had the distraction of being
given a national newspaper to run

I wasn't given it.

If Eddie Price had been an ordinary guy

- you wouldn't have gone near him.
- I resisted because I took...

take marriage seriously.

Because I knew that me getting
back together with Peter

was Eddie's worst nightmare,
what he'd always dreaded.

Yeah, but that didn't stop you.

No.

Are you enjoying this?

No! I'm trying to reconcile Peter
Rooker being the love of your life

with your refusal to cooperate

- in our murder investigation.
- I am cooperating!

I didn't want to hurt Eddie's feelings.

Because without Eddie you'd have
to make it on your own, right?

No, that's not it!

You know that he beat
Rooker up in the street?

Peter gave as good as he got.

Do you know he paid someone
to break into Rooker's flat,

to bug it so he could listen
to the two of you together?

What?

That's impossible

Eddie didn't know about us.

Evidently he did.

- You're bluffing.
- I have a signed confession

from the man who planted the bugs.

Ms Booth, how well do
you know your husband?

Helpfully, Luke made copies of all the
tapes before he passed them on to you.

Is it necessary we hear
these recordings?

Well, in so far as it was
necessary for your client

to pay someone to break into a
private residence to make them, yes.

What are you doing?

Peter...

- Where's that freckle gone?
- It's still there.

Don't backtrack. What shall I do?

- Do what you always do.
- Please yourself.

You know that's not true.

- Do I?
- Eddie's a good man.

- It's not that easy for me.
- I don't think it could be easier.

You're married to a man you don't love
and you're sleeping with a man you do.

Can we leave it?

The truth hurts?

Forget Eddie for now. Come here.

Charge me or let me go.

- Mr Price, why don't you...?
- Can I go now?

9pm last night, where were you?

Having dinner.

With my wife.

We were together at
Number 19, having dinner.

- You were in Soho?
- Yes.

What time did you arrive?

8.30. We didn't finish till after 11.

And at any point during the dinner,
did your husband leave the table?

Do you think that your husband
is capable of murder?

- No!
- By proxy?

Absolutely not!

You don't know him, I do!

Yeah, but you've been asking
yourself that question, haven't you?

It's ridiculous...

...but at the back of my
mind, I always thought

Peter and I would be together...
some day.

Maybe you would have.

Do you think he killed Peter?

Do you think he did it?

Thank you for answering my questions.
I appreciate the position you're in.

- We're gonna have to let Price go.
- Well, she backs up his alibi.

As will everyone at Number 19.

I bet he was there all night

and left a big fat tip just so
the waiters would remember him

I asked her if she thought Eddie or
anyone he knew was capable of it...

And of course she said no.

You know, actually, I think if
she knew something she'd tell us.

She loved Rooker

I admire your faith in
human nature, Havers.

I am so sorry.

You're lucky. You only
had another two minutes.

- You'd have left without me?
- Yes.

That's nice, that is.

You still up for this
restaurant? We don't have to.

No, no. You're looking forward to it.
Well, I've been looking forward to it.

Tough day?

- Just lost our prime suspect.
- That was careless.

Sorry.

- You were at the crime scene.
- For five minutes.

But what did you make of it? Did
anything in particular strike you?

Oh, I'm sorry. Of course, you don't
want to talk about this, do you?

I don't want to profile for the Met.

That doesn't mean I won't help
my husband with his homework.

No, you're right.
Sometimes work just takes over.

You tired?

- More grumpy than tired.
- Then let's forget the restaurant.

No, I'll be fine. I just had a
futile day, that's all. I'll be fine.

Come on. Pizza
delivery, bottle of plonk

and then an early
night for you, old man.

Who are you calling "old man"?

- You know what's a great feeling?
- What?

No matter how old we get,
you'll always be older than me.

You really know how to make
me feel better about myself.

Thank you. It's something
I pride myself on.

Are you sure you don't mind
about tonight?

Let's go home.

I've been thinking
about your crime scene.

Oh, yes?

Have you got five minutes?

All the restaurants throw their rubbish
out here during the course of the evening.

A body under there would have
remained undetected till morning.

Maybe he panicked?

I don't think the nature of this killing
indicates a person prone to panic.

What then?

I think subconsciously the killer
wanted to make sure the body was found.

Because he wants to get caught?

Because he's proud of what he's done.

The actual killing - how would
you characterise that?

Well, the manner of death is a
possible indication of psychopathology.

The first shot's the important one.

The killer wants to inflict pain
and induce fear. It's a power thing.

He wants the victim to
understand that he, the killer,

has the power of life
and death over him.

Was there anything to suggest,
say, a military connection?

Bullets, full metal jacket -
usually military issue.

So someone with a
military background, then?

- Possibly, yeah.
- I'd say probably.

He's adaptable.

He shot a man dead in a
busy area, which suggests

the manner of
killing is second nature to him.

He only has to concern himself
with the environment.

Because he's killed before?

You're good, aren't you?

- At what?
- Lots of things.

Some things. Not so good at
getting home at a decent hour.

We have to get used to neither of us
being at home very much.

I'm prepared to be at
home for the right reason.

Which is?

Oh, right, OK.
You want to try again?

Perhaps we could just try and
stop getting in the way of it...

if that's what you want.

Yeah. I mean more than anything.

Havers?

The trace on Nina's mobile's
thrown up an interesting number.

- Michael Wren.
- Our ex-Para?

Yeah, they've spoken twice.
Funny he didn't mention it.

Well, run a background check on him.

See what he's been doing
since he left the Army,

- how he's adapted to civilian life.
- Yep, will do, OK.

- I've been calling and calling.
- I know.

Are you OK?

And the baby?

She's OK too.

She?

Just a hunch.

Look, you've got something I need back.

I need the gun, Nina.

I haven't got it

- I got rid of it.
- Oh, great.

What the hell did you think
you were doing?

Detective Inspector...
Bastard!

- Nina, I didn't call them!
- He didn't, Nina! You wait with Wren.

Nina!

Nina!

- Nina!
- Please!

Get up.

Where's the gun?

You said you wouldn't take matters
into your own hands,

yet you met up with Nina,

received two phone calls.
Why didn't you tell us?

She made me promise.

Yet she's been running around
with your unlicensed gun?

It was a mistake.

When WERE you going to
involve us? Next week?

I was gonna try and talk her
round. Get her to come in.

Doesn't sound like it.

- She's fragile. Scared.
- Of what?

Come on, she must've
told you something.

Look, if I could help you, I would.

You know, last time you said that,
I believed you and regretted it.

But this time it's true.

It better be.

Where is the gun, Nina?

I threw it in the canal.

Which one?

What were you doing Friday night?

Oh, come on, Nina,

the night Peter was killed?

I was in his flat.

- But you have your own place?
- I was hiding.

Who from?

From him?

I'd never seen that
man before that night.

He just broke in?

Were you aware that Peter
had started a relationship

with his ex-girlfriend Melissa Booth?

- Did it bother you?
- Why should it?

- Well, you weren't jealous at all?
- I didn't kill him, all right?

- Well, you let him have it.
- It was self-defence!

Nina, you stole a gun.
You were expecting to use it.

Why?

What were you scared of?
Who were you hiding from?

Nina, we CAN help you, but I
can't do anything with silence.

Come on, sweetheart.

You must have some idea
what she's scared of.

If I did, I'd tell you.

You know, Nina, whatever you think,
you are safer here than out there.

Think of your baby.

I'm not getting very far, am I?

Tell them the truth.

Come on, Nina. It might help
them get whoever did this to Peter

I doubt it.

We'll get through this.

No.

We won't.

You don't have to feel
guilty, Michael. Honestly.

I don't feel guilty.

It's my responsibility.

Sweetheart, I'm as
responsible in this as you are.

No.

No, you're not.

I still don't trust him.

So what do we do?

I think we bring in a psychologist,

on a provisional basis.

Anyone in mind?

My name's Helen.

I don't work for the police, Nina

I work at the university.
I'm just a civilian.

Like you.

Nothing you say to me can be used

against you or Michael or anyone else.

In fact, it's against the law for any of
our conversation to be repeated in court.

Did Peter take pictures
of your town during the war?

Is that where you met?

- By all accounts he was a bit of a character.
- Liked a drink and a laugh?

But he had a big heart too, didn't
he? He brought you back with him.

You formed a bond.

Like family.

Nina, all these people

want to protect you and find
the man that killed Peter...

...but they need your help to do that.

He was kind to me.

He brought me to London.

Gave me somewhere to live,
paid for the rest of my education.

Right

Nina, I need you to tell me
what it is you're afraid of.

Is it someone from the past?

- From Bosnia?
- You can't protect me.

From?

From my fate.

Look, if this man is in London,

we have a chance to catch him. You
owe it to Peter to give us that chance.

I was going to my grandparents...

after school.

It was my brother's birthday and
we had organised him a party.

My whole family lived
together in the same town.

We were Bosnian Muslims.

My grandparents had this tiny house
on the outskirts near the woods.

When I got there, the
place seemed deserted,

and then I heard voices.

I heard shouting

...and then gunshots.

I was terrified.

I wanted to go home but I was
scared I'd be seen, so...

...I kept still.

And all the time the gunshots
were going on and on...

not stopping.

I needed to know what was happening.

I was petrified but I to find
out what was going on.

There were some bodies,

already lying on the ground,

My grandparents.

My little brother, Mahir, he...

he didn't stop crying.

Their leader,
he was one of our neighbours.

He'd been a policeman
during the war. He said...

he said, "Save the kid for me".

And he shot him like a dog.

I heard someone behind me, I-I froze.

It was Peter.

Then I heard my mother scream.

I knew what they were doing to her.

And then two more shots.

And the screaming stopped.

My father pleaded with him.

But the one who shot my
brother, just laughed.

They'd killed everyone.

After that, Peter didn't let me
out of his sight.

He brought me back to London.

You said one of the men...

the leader... was a neighbour.

Do you remember his name?

No, but he is in London.

You saw him?

No, but Peter did... or thought he did.

He wouldn't rest until he was sure.

And he made sure?

Mr Price's driver.

Did Peter tell you that... himself?

It was our last conversation.

We've got our man, Havers.

You think this goes back to Bosnia?

Yeah, Rooker sees Pavletic in the fight
with Eddie Price and he recognises him.

Then Peter Rooker
takes matters into his own hands?

Well, let's find out.

- Is your husband in, Mrs Pavletic?
- He's out on a job.

- When do you expect him home?
- He said he wouldn't be back till late.

Perhaps we could talk to you instead?

Sorry about the mess.

Have you ever heard your husband
mention a Peter Rooker?

No, I don't think so.

Well, have you noticed any
changes in your husband recently?

Well, he was worried about
that Eddie Price business,

that he'd have to testify to
Price beating that man up.

Ah, that man was Peter Rooker.

Right. I didn't know that.

Anyway, that's all
done with now, isn't it?

Absolutely. Your husband was
most cooperative on that issue.

Look, I really need to get on.
Is there anything else?

Two nights ago Peter Rooker
was found murdered...

shot dead in Soho.

This is him.

I want you to think very carefully
before you answer this question -

do you know the man in that picture?

He came to the house

I didn't catch his name.

- When?
- Three or four days ago.

He said he was a friend of Andrej's.

He left a photo and his phone number.

Can we see it?

No, I gave it to my husband

I don't know what he did with it.

Describe it.

Well, it was a photo of a road
sign riddled with bullet holes...

Sanski Most, Andrej's home town.

And what did your husband
say when he saw the photo?

It was an old friend and he'd give
him a call when he had a chance.

I was quite relieved, to be honest.

Why?

Well, I wasn't sure if the man
really was a friend of Andrej's.

Well, he'd asked too many questions.

What kind of questions?

How long had he been here,
and when did we get married,

and was Andrej definitely
from Sanski Most.

- But you answered them?
- Yes.

Mrs Pavletic, two nights ago, what
time did your husband come home?

10... 10.30

Did he do anything out of the ordinary?

Wash his clothes? Take a shower?

He just had a cup of tea and read
the paper like he always does.

- Do you know if your husband owns a gun?
- You think he killed that man, don't you?

We have to eliminate
him from our inquiries.

That's ridiculous.

Andrej's the most decent,
hard-working man I've ever met.

In Bosnia he was a policeman
like you, but you don't see that.

You see a foreigner, an
immigrant looking for a handout?

Mrs Pavletic...

My parents were the same, that's
why I don't speak to them any more.

Does he own a gun?

No
- he's a chauffeur, for God's sake!

- Winston? Are we up and running?
- Yes, we are.

If she calls his mobile
or vice versa...

triangulation should give us his
location inside three minutes.

Thanks. I'd better go.

Sir?

That's him!

Sir - the van!

You all right?

Sorry, sorry...

...I panicked! I'm going to lose
my driving licence now, aren't I?

You are under arrest on suspicion
of the murder of Peter Rooker.

You do not have to say anything
but it may harm your defence

if when questioned you later rely on...

Is he here? Where is he?

You're quite safe, Nina, but I
need you to do something for me.

What?

- Look at these pictures.
- Who are these people?

Random licence-holders...
well, random apart from one

I need you to identify the man
you believe killed your family.

Well, I can't tell you this
second where I was at eight o'clock

that night, but I keep a log
so it shouldn't be a problem.

Is my home being searched?

- Does that bother you?
- No, of course not.

As a policeman in Bosnia, did
you receive firearms training?

Yes.

Would you consider yourself a good shot?

About average.

Look, I did not kill this man.

I'm a peaceful person and I always was.

Even in the war?

Especially in the war. I mean,
it was an exercise in absurdity,

but I tried as long and hard as I could
to do my job, to uphold the law.

You told your wife that Rooker
was an old friend. Is that true?

Sure, he-he was a photographer covering
the war. We struck up a friendship.

So why after three years of living here,
have you never tried to contact him?

According to your wife, he didn't
even know that you'd settled here

I'd tried to find him so we
could kick around old times...

You're a liar, Mr Pavletic.

A bloody liar! Yes, you had
some old times with Mr Rooker,

but they weren't the kind that you
would chat about over a cold beer.

But they were the kind that you might
kill to keep from coming out. Like...

murdering entire families, for example.

Obviously, you have a witness...

someone from Bosnia who is claiming
I did all these terrible things?

Are they reliable?
Do they have photographs?

Do they have proof?

No, they've made a mistake.

Don't try and second-guess us.

What else can I do when
you hold all the cards?

Did you call Rooker on the
number he left your wife?

- Yes, I did.
- And?

We arranged for him to come
up to the house at the weekend.

So when Eddie Price attacked Peter Rooker,
why didn't you go to defend your old friend?

Well, to tell you the truth,
I didn't recognise him.

He'd put on weight, he looked... older.

I'm not a killer.

Back home I had authority.

Here I have nothing but my name

and you are destroying it
with every second I'm here.

No-one wants to be driven around by
somebody they think is a Serbian gangster.

I think I'd like my phone call
now... if that's all right.

He's only got the best
criminal lawyer in Christendom.

- Michael Ackland?!
- Who paid for him?

Eddie Price. That's who
he made his phone call to.

How about the house search?

Forensics found nothing,
ballistics or otherwise.

But they've discovered
he keeps a lock-up nearby.

That sounds promising.

Better be or we'll have to
tell Nina that he's walking.

He's note perfect.

Oh, if he's a sociopath,
that's no big surprise.

Robert de Niro, eat your heart out.

All we've got on him is Nina's story.

- So not enough to charge him?
- Not yet.

You were a star in there
with Nina, did I tell you that?

- You didn't need to.
- Well, you were.

Look, I've not got much on.

Do you want me to wait
around and keep an eye on her?

Oh, you've done enough.
Well, more than

Tommy, if you have to let him go,
she's going to be a mess

and I don't reckon much
to boyfriend Michael.

I love you.

That's a bit OTT, Tommy.
"Yes" would've done.

- Sir... Excuse me.
- It's all right...

Background check's come
through on Michael Wren.

Five years ago he was arrested
after an arms trafficking bust.

He got off - lack of evidence -

but four co-defendants weren't so
lucky, including one Brendan McGuire.

Now, McGuire squealed and
they cut his sentence in half.

We never did find out
where Rooker got his gun.

No, but McGuire seems like a good bet.

Rooker needed you to broker the deal.

That's why you've been holding
out on us from the start.

Despite your best efforts
to appear accomodating.

We could never figure out what he was doing
between 8 and 9, the last hour of his life.

- He was busy buying a gun, wasn't he?
- I've no idea.

Ballistics will trace that
back to Brendan McGuire.

And on past form, McGuire will sing
from the rooftops to avoid going to jail.

Which means he'll implicate you.

Look, Wren, whatever it is you've done,

it's better that we hear
it from you, not from him.

Look, Peter came to me, said he
needed a gun, or he was a dead man.

He was my best mate -
what was I supposed to do?

You're going to show me.

Nothing from Pavletic's lock-up.

What was in there?

Furniture, books, usual
sort of household stuff

that'll see the rubbish tip
before it sees another home.

So what have we got on
Pavletic other than motive?

Getting to Rooker before
Rooker got to him?

That's the motive I mean.

Well, he was in the vicinity
of the crime at the right time.

Access and motive. That's it.

That does not add up to a conviction

I know.

We're going to have to release him.

We do not have anything
substantial enough to hold him with.

Suppose we'd better lose
the battle and win the war.

OK. OK, I'll release him

I'll go and tell Nina the bad news.

So what time did you get here?

We left Number 19 about 8
o'clock, it's a 5-minute walk,

so must've been about 5 past, 10 past.

OK, and then what?

Made the introductions,
headed back to the bar.

- It was a Friday night.
- Busy, busy, busy.

What about Rooker?

He finished his pint.
Actually, it was his second pint.

- On his own?
- Brendan was chatting to him.

Wasn't he "busy, busy, busy"?

Peter'd just handed him two grand for a
Smith & Wesson, it was the least he could do

I've told you everything I know,
can I go now?

No. Every time you've told us everything

there seems to be a whole new
thrilling instalment. Come on.

Sorry, mate.

How the hell did they trace it to me?

Doesn't matter, Mr McGuire, we did

Peter Rooker spent the last hour of his
life with you. What did you talk about?

Are you kidding me? He was nuts!

- Nuts, how?
- Well, kept banging on about...

genocide and murder and scars that wouldn't
heal and bodies that wouldn't stay buried...

But you illegally sold him
a firearm, anyway?

OK, yeah - he's a grown-up.

His mental condition didn't
even give you pause for thought?

Well, he told me that Rooker
was a famous war photographer,

that he could handle himself.

But we left here and an hour later, I
heard there's a shooting round the corner.

- And you didn't get in contact with us?
- I thought it was my gun.

Rooker never got a round off,
not that it would've stopped much.

Look, I'm sorry the geezer's dead,
but it weren't my fault.

OK, when he left, did you
see anyone following him?

No.

Did you see anyone watching
you while you were chatting?

Well, not that I noticed...

But?

But when I said the CCTV
weren't working round the back...

What, you were lying?

It's no big deal, you
can't make the bloke out.

- The quality ain't that good.
- Trust me, it IS a big deal

I need you to show me now.

- But I recognised him! I picked him out.
- I'm sorry, but it's not over yet.

- Yes, it is.
- Nina...

- Helen...
- It's all right... Nina...!

- Havers?
- Sir, it's Pavletic.

Positive?

- Yeah, I've got video to prove it.
- We've just let him go!

OK, I'm on my way back now.

Winston? With me.

- What?
- Pavletic!

Nina, confronting him won't help.

Nina...

Nina, don't.

Who are you?

- Nina... put the gun down.
- They're taking him back in.

He's going to prison now, Nina.
Put the gun down.

- You said that the last time.
- No, this time, Nina, we've got proof.

Look, I'm not who you think I am...

...I swear to you.

Nina...

Get out of the way.

Don't ruin your life.

He's going to jail for the rest of his.

Please.

You don't need it any more, Nina.

Put the gun down, down on the ground.

No spine in Bosnians!

Winston!

She's gone.

You need to let me try, sir...

We have entrusted Helen to God's mercy,

in sure and certain hope of
the resurrection to eternal life

through our Lord Jesus Christ,

who will transform our frail bodies...

What are you doing here?

I dunno. Just... letting you
know, when you're ready,

- that there IS a world out there.
- Right.

That's just what she'd say.

I know.

And you know what I'd say back?

The world can wait a couple of minutes.