Original subtitles

Hello, darling.

Good luck, darling.

All right, girls?

How much, luv?

I'm just waiting for a friend.

I'll be your friend, sweetheart.

That kind of prick tease stops right now.

Tonight.

Ah!

Get in there!

Oh!

What's your name?

Piss off!

Two choices.

I take you home, or I take you down to the station

and I book you for soliciting.

You've run away.

Does your dad abuse you?

What?

Your dad, did he sexually abuse you?

No.

So why'd you run away?

You were bored?

Is that it?

You're gonna throw your whole life away out of boredom?

That's just stupid.

What the hell do you care about my life?

You just assaulted a police officer.

The GBH charge will stick, and that's a year in prison.

Or I could take you home.

Derek McNeil.

Thank you for bringing her home.

Your daughter's very beautiful.

What's her name?

Imogen. Did my daughter--

No.

Her pimp did.

God.

Thank you.

PC Lane.

PC Alan Lane.

DI Kate Warren, this is DS Roger Barton.

Nikki Alexander, pathologist.

Jack Hodgson, forensics.

The body's in the flat above the pub.

Joanne Henderson, age 32.

Hubby Roly Henderson said their daughter

found her whilst he was asleep in the bar downstairs.

Says he slipped in her blood when he found

her, but we've no sign of forced entry.

Well, every second he's moving around,

he's compromising the blood evidence.

I'll start processing him.

Thank you, Jack.

EMMA HENDERSON: I wanna see my dad.

I wanna see my dad!

I wanna see my dad.

Just give us a minute, all right?

Why don't you take her out to the car?

Yes, ma'am.

No!

Come on.

Are you all right?

What's your name?

My name's Nikki.

I'm so sorry.

Can you take me to my dad, please?

Of course.

We just need his help with a few things first.

Dr. Alexander?

I need to go.

But I want you to be as brave as you can until I get back, OK?

Good girl.

You have no business telling her she can see her dad.

There's blood on her pyjama top.

I'll bag it after I've processed the body.

Fine.

Does she have relatives?

Give us a chance, luv.

We've contacted Social Services.

Maybe there's a friend she can stay with.

Maybe there is.

Let's just focus on the job in hand, shall we?

Multiple stab wounds to the chest and neck.

Massive exsanguination.

Murder weapon as yet unrecovered?

Must be 200 quid in that purse over there.

Wasn't a robbery.

Doesn't look like a sex crime either.

She's in her pyjamas.

The old lockstep, heartbreak of rage, then profound regret.

Pfft, I'm not seeing any regret.

When the daughter found her, she was covered with a sheet.

It's what the Murder Manual calls care and concern.

Regret, after the fact.

Blue fibres under the fingernails of the right hand.

The fourth fingertip on the left hand

has been amputated at the distal interphalangeal joint.

When SOCOs move the body, they should be looking

for a missing fingertip.

She's a big girl.

Might be under there with the murder weapon.

Have some bloody respect.

Where's me daughter?

Just hold still, please.

Where's me daughter?

I asked you a question.

I'm gonna need to ask you to take your shirt off.

Is that OK?

Yeah, let me take his cuffs off.

I'd say well over 50% blood loss.

You're a betting man?

At a depth of half a centimetre,

one litre will cover an area of 2,000 square centimetres.

Would you close the curtains, please, Nikki?

Anyone wearing trainers?

Lead on, please.

What does this mean?

Eh, I'm under arrest?

No, not yet.

But I could soon fix that.

There we are.

Are we nearly done?

Looks like the trail ends here.

Maybe not.

JACK HODGSON: These might explain

why he was in his socks.

KATE WARREN: Thinking that could be our murder weapon.

The hood might explain how he kept the blood off his face.

Roly Henderson, I'm arresting you

on suspicion the of the murder of Joanne Henderson.

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

if you do not mention, when questioned,

something which you later rely on in court.

CLARISSA: You'll be astounded to hear the blue fibres under

the victim's nails are visually similar to the blue fibres from

the blood-soaked fleece.

Thanks, Clarissa.

Chemical tests should confirm.

Thanks, Jack, that's great.

Not a problem.

Good luck.

Jack?

If his lawyer's happy, why don't you sit in?

Make sure I don't fluff the science.

Yeah, sure.

I got a D in biology.

I'm not kidding.

You said you slept in the bar last night.

Is that a regular occurrence?

We'd had a stupid argument.

Me wife had started letting Emma do her homework in the bar.

You disapproved?

Yeah, I didn't like her sitting there next to god

knows who.

So you made your feelings known?

It was classic tit for tat.

I had a pop at Joanne about Emma.

She had a go at me for slicing lemons

without a chopping board, and I lost it.

I raise me voice a bit, and then I chuck knife in the sink.

So you screamed at your wife in front of the pub,

and threw a knife in her general direction?

No, I threw it in the sink.

Where was she standing?

Near the sink?

Well-- well, yeah.

What if you'd missed?

What happened next, bearing in mind we've taken statements

from other patrons?

I took a bottle of whiskey from the shelf,

and I walked out.

What?

And the fact that your daughter was

sat there didn't bother you?

You being so concerned about exposing her

to the indecencies of the public bar?

These swabs are from the suspect?

Mm, neck and face.

I want to check there's no trace of the victim's blood.

Always harder to prove a negative.

Negative is exactly what it is.

If he washed blood off his face,

you'd expect to find trace, wouldn't you?

Unless he used a bleach-based detergent.

But then his hair would be streaked,

and I'd be picking up sodium hypochlorite, which I'm not.

You're sure?

Sure, I'm sure.

Good news?

What?

You look pleased, that's all.

No, I'm just--

well, OK, I am pleased.

If Roly Henderson's guilty, his 10-year-old daughter

lost both her parents today.

KATE WARREN: Describe your marriage.

It's good.

It's happy.

No problems?

There weren't problems?

Every marriage has problems.

Expand, please.

Mr. Henderson.

She slept with someone.

An old school friend.

It was months ago.

He was more her age, was he?

It was nothing to do with that.

When did you find out?

Last week.

How?

I found a text.

Why don't you just tell me how it happened?

Nothing happened.

I didn't do anything.

Where can we reach him-- your wife's lover.

He wasn't her lover.

OK, it was a one-off thing.

It meant nothing to her.

So you were understanding, then,

when she told you about it?

Come on, Roly.

Isn't that the real cause of your row?

No, it wasn't.

His name's David Clancy.

He lives in Edinburgh, I think.

Do you recognise these trainers and this fleece?

They're mine.

When did you last wear them?

Last night.

What about the knife?

KATE WARREN: We recovered your fingerprints from the handle.

Of course you did.

I just told you I was using it last night.

The thing is, the fingerprints on the knife are undisturbed.

What?

It suggests no other hand held the knife after yours did.

There's clear continuity with some of the spatter.

And an airborne blood pattern around the right sleeve,

from repeated stabbing of the victim.

The killer was wearing this fleece, yeah?

With the hood up.

See the spatter around the rim?

But the samples from the suspect's face

prove negative for blood.

Given the blood on his hood, you'd

expect his face to be showered in blood.

What if he was wearing a mask, as well as a hood?

We didn't find a mask.

Plus, a mask and a hood doesn't exactly yell heat-of-the-moment

domestic killing.

Well, who said it was?

Detective Inspector Kate Warren.

Ah.

Yeah, well, let's see what the postmortem brings to light.

I drove out to the common, drank most of the Jameson's,

and came home.

Oh, so you drove home with a bottle of whiskey in you?

I've made better choices.

And worse ones, too, I'll bet.

So, angry and drunk, you get back to the pub.

I'm not angry.

Just drunk.

What time?

I don't know, about three, maybe.

And were you wearing these trainers and this fleece?

Yes.

I think I kicked the trainers off and--

and draped the fleece over me, you know, to keep warm.

You think you did, or you suppose you must have?

Truth is, the first thing I remember for certain is Em--

--is Emma shaking me awake.

I could see the blood on--

on her pyjamas, and the--

and the t-- the terror in her eyes.

I went upstairs to find Joanne, and she was-- was on the floor.

She was covered in a sheet.

Did you attempt to resuscitate her?

No, but I could see she was dead.

There was blood everywhere.

I slipped in it.

Mr. Henderson, it's early days,

but so far we've found no sign of forced entry,

no sign of robbery, and no suggestion

your wife was sexually assaulted.

My version of events, you didn't forgive Joanne for this fling.

Quite the opposite.

You knew it was her looking for a way out,

and you weren't having it.

You came back this morning, drunk and angry.

You came back with just enough whiskey-fueled courage

to finish what you'd started.

No.

You even used the same knife.

Only this time you didn't just throw it in the sink.

No, that's not true.

And in the time it took for her to die,

you hid your fleece, your shoes, and the knife,

and you let your daughter find her mother's butchered corpse

in the hope that she'd give you an alibi.

Victim is a previously healthy 32-year-old female,

identified as Joanne Henderson.

There are incisions and possible defensive wounds to both hands.

Did SOCOs find the fingertip?

Not yet.

The distal phalanx of the little finger on the left hand

has been removed.

A straight, clean cut that suggests a sharp blade.

Jagged depressions on the skin suggests

a blade with a serrated edge.

Are you sure about that?

No, that's why I said, suggests.

Is there a problem?

Yeah, the knife we've found has a flat blade.

What you swabbing for?

Leukotriene B4.

It's something that we've been testing

for recently, leukotriene B4.

It's a-- a healing receptor.

And if we don't find it, it's just

that the wound was post mortem.

I noticed an absence of bleeding at the scene.

And, as you can see, there's no inflammation.

So the finger was severed a few seconds after death?

More like a few minutes, which is clearly significant.

Not clear to me.

Earlier today you were quoting from the Murder Manual.

I've only read the chapters relevant to pathology,

but I do recall that the taking of body parts from the scene

is associated with the trophies of psychopaths, not

domestic murders.

Wound number eight, a diagonally oriented chest

wound that penetrated the pleural cavity.

The tip of your broken flat-bladed knife.

Wound number nine is an incision to the neck that

severed the carotid artery.

This was the fatal injury, and produced the heavy blood

spatter documented at the scene of the crime.

This wound is four inches deep.

Deeper than the other wounds, and not

consistent with the 2 and 1/2 inch

flat-bladed knife that was recovered from the scene.

Are you sure?

Wounds one to seven were only 2 and 1/2 inches deep.

I think that wound was caused by a 4 inch plus blade

with a jagged edge.

A hunting knife seems probable.

So we're not just missing the fingertip.

We're missing the murder weapon, as well.

In which case, our missing murder weapon,

which might look something like this,

should still be under this roof.

Believe it or not, there are 42 rooms in this dump,

and our suspect's had five years to acquaint himself

with every loose board and empty pipe.

Plenty of places to hide a good stash of coke, then.

Coca-cola, not charlie.

JACK HODGSON: OK.

There's three levels, with a basement area,

encompassing 11 toilets, four kitchens, and two entirely

separate sets of plumbing.

Split into 10 sections for your convenience.

We should get the sniffer dogs in.

Unless anyone has any reason not to.

Suspect lives here.

His scent's going to be everywhere.

Well, blow me.

Right, that's it.

Piss off.

Get out.

Why?

Ma'am.

Don't ma'am me.

Go on.

Go!

Right, lads, let's get started.

What was all that about?

Doesn't matter.

It mattered enough to send him home.

Try me.

Excuse me.

Dad?

TONY WARREN: Hello, Katie.

Have you charged him yet?

Not yet.

There's been a couple of--

TONY WARREN: I'm outside.

Found another knife?

I'll talk to you in a minute.

I talked to Mike Shields at the CPS.

Something came to light in the post-mortem.

I know.

A second knife.

No doubt you'll find it, along with the missing fingertip.

There's always going to be things

that point the other way, K.

Yeah, I know, but--

but I'm just not sure that he did it.

It's not your concern.

Your concern is, do I have a case?

Do I have enough to charge him?

Mike Shields thinks you do.

He says, you charge Henderson now,

and you add stuff down the line.

Yeah, but--

One win, Katie.

One win, and you're back on track.

Dad, you've got to trust me.

People go down every day on far less than what you've got.

Why are you talking to the CPS about my case?

Are you using again?

What?

You better not be.

I put my neck on the line for you.

You throw that in my face, we're finished.

Dad.

Had a look at your broken blade.

Blood from your victim mixed in with some lemon pith

and dried citrus juice.

Roly Henderson was using the knife to slice lemons with.

Found a bright green fibre where the blade meets

the handle.

First I thought, was it 80s night at the pub?

But it's high-absorbency microfiber,

which doesn't scream clothing.

JACK HODGSON: Think somebody came through there?

What?

Broken shelf under a window.

Oh, no, that was me.

I was checking the guttering and it broke.

Bit embarrassing.

Did you hurt yourself?

I'll live.

I'd better bag the shelf anyway.

Jack, I think we've got enough to charge Henderson

without the second knife.

What's the rush?

Plenty of time to gather more evidence, right?

Well, we can add stuff to the charge sheet down the line.

Do me a favour.

Hang fire for half an hour.

Why?

Dr. Alexander wants to you something.

She's on her way now.

You have witnesses who say Roly threw

the knife in the sink and left?

Yes.

On, and on, and on, and on at me.

--you know what I mean?

And none of them said that he retrieved the knife

from the sink before he went out?

No, he must have picked it up when he got back later.

But the bar was clean and tidy this morning.

And Joanne was killed around 6 AM, in her bedroom.

What's you point?

That she must have cleaned up last night.

If Roly picked up the knife when he came back,

then it would have already been through the dishwasher.

Who says it didn't?

Lemon juice and a green fibre recovered from the broken

blade.

Well, she was upset after the row.

Maybe she missed the knife and left it in the sink.

Unlikely.

It's spotless.

So if Roly didn't take the knife with him,

and if it didn't go through the dishwasher, then what's left?

Someone else took the knife after Roly left,

and before Joanne cleared up.

And I think they used the missing green bar

towel as a mitt.

Chuck something in the sink.

It's the only stool close enough to reach the sink.

And the only one with a missing green towel.

I'll print it.

Do we have any idea who was sitting here?

NIKKI ALEXANDER: Do you remember where you were sitting?

Would you mind sitting up there now?

Thanks.

So you were doing you homework?

Yeah.

Mum was helping me with my fractions.

From this position, you could see all the customers

in this part of the pub.

Did you know any of them?

George was sitting there, where he always sits.

And what about at that end of the bar?

A man.

Did you know him?

No.

Can you describe him?

Dark hair.

Anything else?

Did he speak to anyone?

I don't know.

I don't think so.

Just after your dad left, did this man do anything strange?

Like what?

Did you see him reach into the sink?

No.

Roly Henderson, I am charging you

with the murder of Joanne Henderson.

You do not have to say anything--

No, I didn't do it.

I didn't do it.

I didn't.

No, I didn't kill me wife!

I'd never, never kill me wife!

I didn't kill me wife, OK?

You've got to find who killed her.

They've charged him.

I've been checking through domestic murder cases

where body parts went missing from the scene.

Oh, four years ago, Eleanor Marshall

was bludgeoned to death at a picnic site 10 miles from here.

And her husband, Simon Marshall, claimed

that she was killed by a stranger who

beat her with an oar, and then cut off her finger

with a hunting knife.

The husband's banged up at Her Majesty's pleasure as we speak.

Morning.

Dr. Alexander Thank you.

I'm afraid I can't really explain

my interest in your case.

There can be no quid pro quo of information.

But you have nothing to lose, and possibly something to gain.

April 5, 2009, why don't you start at the beginning?

It was a beautiful day.

And I was making amends for some very ugly things.

I suggested a trip to Palmer's Lake.

It was Eleanor's favourite place in the whole world.

Well, at least in North Kent.

She seemed happy.

She really did.

And when she dozed off, I saw it as a sign

that she still trusted me.

Watching her sleep, I--

I felt-- I was overwhelmed with love for her.

And I promised myself this was a new start.

And I'd never hurt her again.

Watch what you're doing, mate.

Oh, shit, my bag.

Hey, come on.

Put the oar down.

Send your wife over.

What?

You heard me.

Send your wife over, or you're both dying.

No.

No way, mate.

I just want to talk to her.

He just wants to talk to you.

Sit down.

Sit down!

Get back in the boat.

Simon!

Get back in the boat!

ELEANOR MARSHALL: Please don't hurt me, please.

Please don't hurt me.

Please don't hurt me.

Please.

Please, please, please.

Big man, then, I was.

I did nothing to save her.

Honey, honey.

But somebody did this, and he's still out there.

Hi.

How'd it go with Marshall?

Honestly, I think his wife and Joanne Henderson

were killed by the same person.

I just can't prove it.

Yet.

The broken branch is from an oak tree.

And the green sapwood suggests it's freshly severed.

Maybe kicked there in the struggle?

It's like it just landed there.

Marshall told you the biker fired in the air.

But no shotgun pellets or cartridges

were ever recovered from the scene.

You think that the pellets severed the branch

and lodged in the tree?

Got to be worth taking a look, hasn't it?

Yup.

So, if Eleanor's body was found here,

then the picnic blanket would have been there.

I definitely think that this is the oak tree

that the stray branch came from.

Jack?

Huh?

Sorry, I was miles away.

What?

Look, I don't mind climbing a ladder.

No, no, I've got it.

What is it?

Just a spot of vertigo.

I'm not seeing anything.

Well, if the biker was standing here,

facing out towards the lake, and he fired the gun upwards--

you're doing well for a man with vertigo.

Oh.

God bless Clarissa.

Shot?

No.

Cartridge wadding.

The tree bark insulated the wadding pretty well.

A perfect print left in gun oil by whoever

assembled the gun cartridge.

It links to a third murder case.

The fingerprint belongs to a farmer

called Derek McNeil, who died in a car accident

on Christmas Eve, 1993.

And why do we have McNeil's prints on file?

Purposes of elimination.

A break-in at his farm, in which his shotgun was stolen.

But you said that the prints are linked to a murder?

Yeah.

A year after McNeil died, his daughter Imogen

was murdered by her husband, PC Alan Lane.

PC?

Lane was a copper.

He got life, but he's out now.

The investigating officer and Percival

must have made a hell of a case.

She never found Imogen's body.

Just some bloody clothes and a severed finger.

And DNA confirmed that this was Imogen's finger and blood?

And DI Percival found more of Imogen's blood

in the boot of Lane's car, and on a shovel in his garage.

JACK HODGSON: So we're thinking, if the severed fingertip is

some sort of signature, we could be

dealing with a killer targeting unrelated women.

CLARISSA: Common factor is that he uses forensic misdirection

to frame the husbands.

Well, if that's true, then it suggests

that Alan Lane was another victim, and not the killer.

We need to talk to Imogen's Mum

about the missing shotgun, and Alan Lane.

Hello.

So sorry to trouble you.

My name's Dr. Alexander.

This is Professor Leo Dalton.

Could we come in and have a word, please?

Yes.

Imogen and her dad were close.

Every June they'd take off for Wales.

Leave me behind.

I didn't mind too much.

I can't swim.

Edith, when your husband's shotgun was stolen,

was any ammunition taken?

Yeah, a few boxes, I think.

And did Derek have any suspicions as to who'd

taken it?

Alan.

Our son-in-law.

I told Derek he was being ridiculous.

I still thought of Alan as a strange but basically decent

man.

And when did you change your opinion about that?

When they pulled my husband's body out of his car.

He'd been saying for weeks that Alan was going to kill him.

Make it look like an accident.

How did your daughter meet Alan Lane?

She ran away, and he brought her home.

You didn't know him before?

No.

No, he was just a friendly policeman.

Thank you for bringing her home.

We didn't think it odd when he started dropping in.

Even when he asked Imogen out on a date,

he wrote to us to get our permission.

He was very proper.

I brought you some flowers.

Thank you.

EDITH MCNEIL: We had no idea who we were letting into our lives.

A month after my husband's funeral,

Alan announced that he and Imogen were moving

into the farm to look after me.

Except a week after that, he suggested

I move to the village.

It'd be easier for me, being nearer the shops.

So why do you think he really wanted you gone?

He couldn't stand sharing my daughter.

It's still your house, Mum.

You can move back anytime.

I'll be fine.

I'll be over first thing to help you unpack.

Don't worry.

EDITH MCNEIL: Every instinct was telling me not

to leave her alone with him.

That man killed my husband and my daughter.

And his life sentence was eight measly years.

Do you know where Alan Lane is now?

I-- I see Anne Percival sometimes.

She's retired from the police force now.

I think she said he sells hiking equipment

from the back of a van.

Sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Hello?

Dr. Alexandra, it's DI Warren.

Where are you?

Excuse me?

KATE WARREN: Emma Henderson wants

to visit her dad in prison, and she

needs to be accompanied by an adult. She's requested you.

Excuse me.

Oh.

Have you paid for that?

No, I'm so sorry.

It was a mistake.

I--

A mistake?

Yeah, I thought I saw someone I knew.

Fine.

If you wouldn't mind just going back to the till

and paying for it, please?

I'm-- I'm just going to leave it there.

All right.

OK.

Ah, how was Stratford?

All right.

Yeah?

All Shakespeared out?

We saw two plays.

One and a half, actually.

Fancied a few beers, didn't I?

Good job I know you're joking.

Well, I knew I'd be bored.

It's why I didn't want to go.

Hey, consider yourself lucky.

In my day, a school outing was a trip

to the kids' section of the local library.

How was your trip, Mum?

I didn't go anywhere.

Did you lend the car to someone, then?

No.

No?

That's funny, because there's 200 miles

on the clock since yesterday.

Karen.

What exactly--

Don't, Mum.

I know exactly where you've been.

Pretty well stocked, aren't you, mate?

Ever since I can remember, we've

gone to Kent for our Easter holidays.

When I was small, it was that campsite near the motorway.

Then it was that B&B with the fish pond.

And the man at the B&B started asking too many questions,

didn't he?

And then I started asking too many questions.

Karen.

That's why you made me go on that school trip.

No.

Yes.

Nothing to do with Shakespeare.

You just wanted me gone so that you

could go on this pilgrimage.

Is that the best you can do?

Ignore me?

Mum, I just want to know why.

Why are we different?

Ah.

It's always the same street, and the same house.

And you'd say that we were stopping

because you needed to take a break, or to check the map.

But it would always be the same street, the same house.

The old lady with the statue in the garden.

It was a boy with a tray on his head.

What is it?

What is it, Mum?

Is Sally home?

Yeah, as far as I know.

I want you to stay with her tonight.

Why?

Because I have to go somewhere.

Where?

Oh, you've been so patient for so long.

Just one more day.

That's all I'm asking.

OK.

Thank you.