Original subtitles

COLLIN CONNOR: Don't leave me, please!

Please, help me!

Help!

Help me!

Don't leave me here!

Please, don't leave me!

JACK: What did that to his arm?

I don't know.

It's definitely not rat bites.

JACK: Apparently, he fell from heaven.

Has anybody moved the debris?

Only what was needed to support the roof.

JACK: Don't want any more surprises from above.

Who found him?

Couple of developers.

They pulled this ladder out of the way.

It was holding up the ceiling.

Developers?

BOB: Yeah, you know, apartments of the future, windmills,

solar panels--

that kind of thing.

Anything you need from the body?

No, he's all yours.

You really need to be up there?

Once we've cleared the floor.

What was this building?

Brimstead Fields.

It was a convalescent home for TB patients.

It was closed in the '60s.

Now, you'll have a site manager breathing down

your neck to get the bulldozers in.

BOB: He can breathe all he likes.

No one's coming in here until I say so.

Leo!

Sorry, I'm late, Sanjay.

I miss anything?

Nice try.

No.

One moment, please, sir.

Thank you.

You're probably thinking I'm a poor substitute for Sir

William, himself.

But imagine how I feel.

I can't tell you how sorry my father is that he

can't be at the ceremony.

I can tell you that this unit is a project very, very

close to his heart.

BARBARA: Mr. Hancock, your wife isn't here.

Yeah, I know, Barbara.

Forgive me.

I'm breaching the order.

You know, I can't let you stay.

I don't want to interfere with anyone's care.

Just give me some space to sit with my son.

BARBARA: Please, don't do this, Tom.

You think I'm wrong?

No.

But you're going to suffer for it.

I have to call the police.

You do what you have to.

If you want to leave, leave now.

No one come near me.

I will use this.

Could you get those people out, please?

Just make sure they stay outside.

Um, Children's Hospital, the TAU department-- the police,

please.

We have a man here with a gun.

Yes, OK.

Thanks.

Oh, Peter, I told you I'd keep my promise.

You can build an empire, which he did.

You can create a fortune, which he has.

You can even enjoy the shame of having a government

minister for a son.

So it's Lord Embleton now, is it?

Political donations beget political honours.

Power, and fame, and money fade away.

Our true legacy is in the things we do for others.

They're on the left hand side.

He's just sitting next to his son.

You had enough?

Sorry, I'm just not very good at these dog and pony shows.

Ah, Minister.

Sanjay.

Can I introduce you to Professor Leo Dalton?

How do you do?

Lord Embleton, minister for science.

I liked, um, your point about the things we do for others.

You know, professor, I used to think

I knew my father until I saw what losing my mother

did to him.

This is really for her.

Are you part of the unit?

POLICE: We need to get the minister out.

LEO: No, no.

I'm just visiting.

Professor Dalton's head of the Lyell Centre

and president of the Institute of Forensic Pathologists.

JAMES EMBLETON: The Lyell Centre?

Do you have a Dr. Alexander working for you?

Yeah, yeah.

Do you know her?

JAMES EMBLETON: I met her once-- a-- a weekend conference thing

somewhere.

They all merge into one.

But I do remember her.

KRISTIN: Excuse me, James.

Can I borrow you?

Sorry.

LEO: Something's wrong.

I need to find Professor Dalton.

Yeah, that's me.

Pathologist?

What's going on?

Please come with me.

We've got a situation in the ICU unit.

There's a man with a gun, and he's asking to speak to you.

POLICE OFFICER: Professor Dalton, are you the man I need?

Well, I don't know.

Am I?

Thomas Hancock-- self-employed heating engineer,

no police record, no convictions.

His son is terminally ill.

Doctors advised him to withdraw treatment.

But his wife won't have it.

He switched off the machines, now

he's making us all wait for the kid to die.

Oh, what--

He wants to talk to the person who carry out his

son's post-mortem.

Tell him we need those other patients out of there.

He thought it was a trick when I-- oh, shit.

I'm Leo Dalton.

I'm a forensic pathologist.

I don't plan to hurt anyone.

I just want to do right by my boy.

I understand.

Is it OK if I sit down?

THOMAS: He's still breathing.

I thought he'd stop when I switch off the machine.

What have they told you?

Cancer's everywhere.

His organs have failed.

He'll never wake up.

My wife went on the internet.

Now, she chooses not to agree.

This isn't the way to deal with this.

I don't have a choice.

Her solicitor found a judge who gave her

the benefit of the doubt and overruled the doctors.

Why did you ask for me?

Because you'll be taking care of him when it's over.

But I can't guarantee that.

I want you to promise.

LEO: I can't.

If you want to know that your son's body is

going to be respected--

THOMAS: But what I want to know is what killed him.

Well, you know the diagnosis.

But they say nothing about why.

They put power lines outside the house that ran right

past his bedroom window.

Don't tell me that's healthy.

LEO: Look, I can't make you a promise

that I might not be able to keep.

Now, this power line thing is shaky science.

And a tumour can't tell you what caused it to be a tumour.

Nobody wants to listen to me.

As long as I've got this, you have to.

I have evidence.

I have proof.

Of what?

OK, so maybe it's not the power lines.

There's a lot they don't want you to know.

So you are the expert.

You tell me who killed my son.

POLICE OFFICERS: Go!

On your face!

Get down!

Wing clear!

On your face!

On the ground!

Get down!

Secure.

On your knees.

Stand up.

Move.

Have anything for me, yet?

The rest of his clothes.

Help yourself.

Two pounds 50 and a set of car keys-- no ID of any kind.

Did they find a car?

Not that I know of.

What about the damage to his arm?

I think he did it to himself.

There's flesh in his teeth and tooth marks on the bone.

I'll get micro-CT and DNA to confirm.

JACK: That's one hell of a case of the munchies.

Did you get his fingerprints?

NIKKI: The skin's too far gone.

Clarissa might be able to lift something

from the water bottle.

Yeah, I don't understand that.

A full bottle of water, and he didn't even touch it.

Maybe it isn't water.

When you're done with the prints,

can you screen his clothes for hallucinogens?

Nikki reckons our boy tried to chew his own arm off.

Oh, I got a partial from the belt buckle.

But it doesn't match any of the prints on the bottle.

Oh, there were two people?

Unless he had three index fingers.

Well, that still doesn't tell us

how he could be up there for days

without touching his water.

Maybe he couldn't reach it.

Run the prints through AFIS and check out the water.

People have done worse on LSD.

CLAIR: Morning, James.

Hello, Clair.

I'll get those emails sent.

Do you need anything else?

Some hot Vimto would be nice.

I'll tell the kitchen.

Hello, Dad.

Hm.

Wish I was 70, now and again.

There was a bit of excitement after the ceremony.

Some nutcase got on to one of the wards with a shotgun.

Nevermind that.

What's this about?

NEWS ANCHOR : Former TV hospital,

which has been empty for more than 40 years.

JAMES EMBLETON: Oh, no.

WILLIAM EMBLETON: Brimstead Fields?

Didn't I make myself clear?

Contractors are supposed to start work next week.

This-- this is really going to mess things up.

I told you.

I know.

But it's been standing empty for so long.

It was meant to be a surprise.

It's that, all right.

I'm not doing this to make money, dad.

This is a big project.

We're converting the old hospital into apartments.

We're building 200 low cost homes.

A whole development is going to be carbon neutral.

No one's ever done anything like this before-- not

on this scale.

We're providing homes for people.

Surely, it's better to put that land to some sort of use.

The body's quite well preserved.

From the way he was dressed, I'd say he

entered the building in summer.

A hot, airless, confined space would have accelerated death

from dehydration and then acted to preserve

the tissues from decay.

But he had a full bottle of water with him.

So why didn't he use it?

Exactly.

It's something we're looking into.

There were lacerations on the arm,

below the major injury, and signs of tearing

all in one direction.

How long did he live?

Long enough for necrosis to set in on the arm.

Days, at least.

Perhaps more than a week.

Dehydration could have led to shock and cardiac arrest.

As would release haemoglobin from the necrotic muscle.

We can't rule out blood loss when he bit through the artery.

Uh, listen.

There's currently 200 MIS-PER files

for young males in their 20s.

Is there anything you can give me

that might narrow it down a bit?

Well, I did find something interesting in the organ slice.

Oh, here we go.

This is my nightmare of being dragged back to school.

NIKKI: This is a slice from the best preserved kidney.

If you look at the structure, you'll

see signs of tubular dysfunction.

This means a less efficient kidney

that passes substances into the urine instead

of the bloodstream.

Increased urination means more rapid dehydration.

So how does that help me?

LEO: It could help identify him through medical records.

NIKKI: If that doesn't turn anything up,

there's always the option of virtual reconstruction.

What, with that face?

LEO: Well, Nicki's worked wonders with less.

When Doctor Alexander's done with you,

can you come with me to the cleaning room, please?

Sure.

I used the grid to recreate where all the ceiling

pieces fell.

From there, I can jinks them around

to approximate where they would have

been before the whole thing came down.

So what about the water?

He couldn't reach it.

The flags are blood trail.

And they led me to here.

Now, in this part of the space, there's

a conduit through the brick.

And for some reason, he pushed his arm right through it

and got himself trapped.

How do you know that?

Well, there was massive blood loss here--

enough to tell us that he must have

bitten through an artery in his final effort to get free.

Then he dragged himself across to the hatch.

He doesn't have the strength to open the bottle of water.

All he's thinking about is getting out.

No tears relief.

Can't spare the moisture.

Until now, it still looks to me like misadventure.

But what does he find when he gets here?

Bolted.

From below.

Look around.

There's no other way in, all right?

This wasn't just misadventure.

Someone locked him in and left him to die.

Good work.

Thanks.

I got a black tie bash tomorrow,

and I was wondering if you would stand in for me?

You've done it before.

Will I know anyone?

Oh, it's all the usual forensic forum crowd.

Be good for you.

Be good for the Lyell Centre.

If I have to.

Thanks.

Oh, they just brought the Hancock boy in.

What are you doing here?

I'm on bail.

STELLA: How did you get bail?

THOMAS: I'm no significant risk to the public.

STELLA: Oh, that's rich, after you killed our son.

That's what you want to think.

You don't care what I think.

Even if his only chance was a miracle,

you took that chance away.

You could see how he was suffering.

If he could suffer, he could live.

What do you want from me?

I want him back.

Why don't we sit down and talk about it?

Stella.

Stella!

You go to hell!

NIKKI: Everything I'm seeing confirms what's in his notes--

multiple primary lung tumours, probably synchronous.

Stage four small cell carcinoma with multiple secondaries.

He's had it all.

Surgery, radiation.

Nothing helped.

LEO: I don't think we can take the hospital notes as read.

Once he reached a terminal state,

there'd be no more diagnostic searches.

I doubt we'll find anything that alters the story.

How old's the scan?

Two weeks.

He went down fast.

How did he leave it with the father?

He wants someone to blame.

He wants an explanation.

And the truth is that sometimes it's just an appalling lottery.

Leo.

What?

Quite rarely do you see this level

of tubular atrophy in someone so young,

unless the kidney disease is genetic.

LEO: The same as the boy in the roof.

Test the blood and urine for tubular acidosis

for both cases.

Good morning, Clarissa.

Americano, that's your milk and a little biscuit.

What are you after?

Can I not just buy my colleague a cup of coffee?

I had a voucher.

Cheapskate.

How are we doing?

Winning two nil.

That grid idea of yours was a blinder.

I sent off the DNA.

You know, if it were down to me,

I'd have everyone chipped like a dog

and save us all a lot of trouble.

If the keys were in his pocket,

what happened to his car?

The police did a search and found nothing.

Maybe there was a second set.

You won't be able to move with that one.

There's a transponder.

Were you able to get a make and a model?

Better than that, I got you Collin Connor?

Who's Collin Connor?

Your boy in the roof.

AFIS matched the partial from the belt buckle.

Oh, you little tease.

Thanks for the coffee and the biscuit.

BOB: Collin Connor was a local kid

who's got his prints on file for a petty crime.

JACK: What about family?

He has a sister in the New Castle.

Been signing on.

Hadn't done any work or any training for five years.

That's all we know about him, until we find out

who his friends were.

Where did he live?

By the pub.

Landlord assumed he skipped, so he bagged up all his gear.

So of course, all we found were his dirty clothes

and his dirty mags.

And then, when you said you'd found the keys-- well,

we widened the search.

So we were just wondering, could that be it?

Looks like someone pushed it down here and then torched it.

Cover their tracks.

Did no one report it?

No, we had it down as dumped, not stolen.

Well, this is what they were after.

These are the cut ends of all the wire I found in the burned

up pickup.

This is scrap wiring from the old building.

Look at the tool marks on the end.

They're a match.

It's metal theft.

They were stripping the copper to sell for cash.

They?

Collin Connor and at least one other.

Collin goes into the roof space to get the wire.

He reaches too far into conduit-- gets his arm stuck.

Instead of helping him out, the other one bolts the trap,

leaves him to die a horrible death,

and torches the pickup to cover their tracks.

And why would someone do that?

LEO: Tom, what can I do for you?

Yeah, I'm-- I'm calling for news.

You have to be patient.

You made me a promise.

LEO: I said that I would give you an answer when I have one.

You said when.

Does that mean you think I could be right?

I didn't say that.

You haven't even asked to see my evidence, yet.

Yeah, well I prefer to find my own.

Look, take my advice.

Keep away from the internet.

I'll see you at the inquest, OK?

Hi.

Oh, look at you.

We have the test results for Peter Hancock's kidney disease.

Everything points to Fanconi syndrome.

Really?

I know.

It's rare, but it's the same for both cases.

If there's no genetic cause, then

usually it's environmental.

I haven't heard of a case of Fanconi syndrome

since lead pipes were banned.

NIKKI: Well, some herbal remedies can have

the same effect, can't they?

Wasn't his mother into that kind of thing?

Well, that wouldn't explain the damage to Collin Connor.

Shouldn't you be, uh--

You owe me.

Doctor Alexander.

James Embleton.

You won't remember me.

Lord Embleton.

You do remember?

None of this Lord stuff.

Call me James.

Call me Nikki.

I met your boss, yesterday.

I'm standing in for him now.

I'm so glad.

Really?

I wanted to give you my card at that weekend thing,

but you'd already left.

I was in that lecture of yours when

the old man in the second row asked a pointless question.

Everybody groaned, and you could have slapped him down.

But instead, you turned it around

and made him feel clever.

Ever since then, I've been looking for an excuse

to meet you again.

Why do you need an excuse?

Yes, why do I?

Excuse me.

I'll have to run over to the house.

My boss needs me to vote.

You have a boss?

Until there's a freelance minister of science,

that's the way it is.

Could I ask you for your phone number?

Can't make the same mistake twice.

You really ought to go there.

I mean, we went there for our last holiday.

And I mean, the trick is to leave early.

Of course, we stop at service stations on the way up.

But you know, It's never the same

if you don't get a good run.

That's the thing.

The thing is to get--

I'm so sorry.

This is work.

I'm going to have to deal with it.

Sorry.

Oh, that's perfectly OK.

Lovely to meet you.

Nice to meet you.

And you.

ATTENDEE: Anyway, as I was saying--

He does not have a wonky eye.

Really?

My mistake.

Shall we?

So you weren't born a Lord?

It was a dodge, really, to bring me

into the government, which was never my ambition.

But when they call you to serve, what can you do?

I guess a title will get you a table at any fancy restaurant.

Those aren't even the kind of restaurants I like.

So are you happy?

I mean, are you happy with the work you're doing?

Why wouldn't I be?

I heard your keynote speech at the conference.

You're a proper scientist.

All the politics must get in the way, doesn't it?

I can make a difference in other ways.

God, I couldn't do that.

Advising people who choose the truth, they want to hear--

I'd be tearing my hair out.

You've met my bosses.

I've met people like them.

We all serve our separate masters.

Right up to the one at the top who serves his private demons.

And that's politics in a nutshell.

Sounds very cynical.

It's a cynical world.

Doesn't have to be.

Anyone who thinks that needs a lesson in hard reality.

I have to prepare for a coroner's report, tomorrow,

for a teenage boy with a glioblastoma that

spread to his brain stem.

That's my hard reality.

Shit.

BRIAN: Look, if this is about the old van,

I had a good reason for not reporting it stolen.

Go on.

It wasn't worth it to me for a clapped out piece of junk.

And I got buttons for it and all my other premiums

that have shot up.

So who took it?

BRIAN: I don't know.

Someone broke into the yard one bank holiday weekend.

JACK: Someone was using your van to steal scrap

metal from a derelict building.

You don't think I had anything to do with that, do you?

Well, you have got a record.

Yeah, from way back.

God almighty, I were all but a kid.

I've-- I've got responsibilities now.

I got the contract for all the shelled housing in the borough.

Do you think I'm going to risk that?

All right.

Calm down, Brian.

The thief was unlucky he got trapped in the roof.

The keys to your van were in his pocket.

And he wasn't alone.

Someone knew he was up there and did nothing.

Took a best part of a week to die.

It's a pretty nasty way to go.

Nothing to do with me.

Derren.

Derren!

Why did you lie to me about Collin?

He's not lying low in Newcastle.

He's only on the slab in the bloody morgue.

Did you know about this?

No.

Don't do this to me, Derren, please.

This is important.

Why are you shouting at me?

Don't you get it?

Collin's dead.

God, Derren.

What's the matter with you?

You're asleep half the time, then

you do something like this.

I didn't do anything.

Did he make you go over there with him?

Were you thieving wire again with my van?

Aye, come here!

Derren!

If you were there, they'll find out.

Just tell me the bloody truth!

Let me help you, son, please.

I don't get you, Derren.

I don't get you at all.

And I'm sick of covering for you.

How did it go?

Tom Hancock wouldn't keep quiet.

They ushers had to take him outside.

Well, he missed his own son's inquest?

Well, the coroner let him back in, once he calmed down.

Odd though, isn't it?

What?

You found small cell tumours in the lungs.

And glioblastoma invaded the brain stem,

and then there's the Fanconi syndrome.

So what are you getting at?

Well, that's two separate synchronous primaries--

one of which is vanishingly rare in children.

And the Fanconi syndrome-- that's

also rare and also present in the Brimstead Fields case.

NIKKI: Are you suggesting they're related?

JACK: Can I show you two something?

I think Brian Blackburn knows more than he's saying.

So I got the ID photos of his staff

on the sheltered housing project.

I've been comparing the faces to our subject.

No good.

And then-- Nikki, what do you think?

Well, we should get a 3D scan and do it properly.

But you're right.

That's a good match.

JACK: Colin Connor had been working under a false name.

And I'm sure Brian Blackburn knew.

Official business?

Unofficial.

I wanted to give you this.

I don't need an apartment.

I'm not suggesting you move there.

It's my project.

I wanted you to see it.

Why?

Because it is something that means a lot to me.

And I don't think I made a very good impression

the last time we met.

I was going to send flowers, but, well-- you

know, to a morgue.

NIKKI: Zero footprint living.

The project is a showpiece for the future of housing,

but with real people living in it.

I may not be doing science in the lab.

But this is something I can achieve.

You might recognise the building.

Where the man fell from ceiling?

Yeah, that's not in the prospectus.

Well, if I read it, will it make you happy?

I'm serious.

Your opinion matters to me.

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

My opinion of you is fine.

JACK: We're having this.

And we're having those, too.

What have you done?

I didn't kill anyone.

Yeah, but you just left him there.

Why?

He was always pushing me.

And he said we were mates, but we only

did what he wanted to do.

That's no reason to let someone die.

It's not my fault he got stuck.

Whenever I was in trouble, he'd just laugh at me.

Did you touch anything?

Did you leave anything behind?

What are you going to tell them?

Just keep quiet.

As long as they don't find anything,

we should be all right.

I thought maybe you didn't find the note.

On page 15.

So you read that far.

I'll be honest.

I skimmed.

Thanks for the second chance.

Thanks for waiting.

Sorry, Sir.

Authorised personnel only.

Yeah, I just want to speak to Professor Dalton.

You'll need to make an appointment.

Professor Dalton.

You'll have to make an appointment with him.

It's Tom.

I just want to be speak to you.

Stop, sir.

Get your hands off me.

I just-- I just want to speak to Professor Dalton.

OK.

I'll deal with this.

Thank you.

Are you sure?

Yeah, quite sure.

Tom, what are you doing?

The inquest was a farce, and you weren't even there.

I approved Dr. Alexander's report.

If I'm a witness for the court case,

I cannot be the pathologist of record.

Someone knows what's happening.

And there's people dying because of it.

It's been going on for years, and it

will keep on until somebody puts a stop to it.

Tom, you're not helping your case.

They wouldn't even look at my evidence.

Coroner's court is an inquest.

It is not an inquiry.

It's the who, what, where, and when.

But not why.

If there's damage, something did it.

It's common sense.

Common sense isn't evidence.

They wouldn't let me show my evidence.

I look at facts.

I see patterns.

I'm not an expert, but that doesn't make me a crank.

Nobody is calling you a crank.

That's what they think.

And you know what?

I wouldn't care, as long as they look.

No one will do me the courtesy of at least telling me

that I'm wrong.

Well, let me.

Here.

OK.

A fair reading, that's all I ask.

Thank you.

Ah, been fanning the flames of romance?

It was a civilised lunch.

Good food, good company, and he was the perfect gentleman.

Or just slow off the mark.

A guy needs clear signals to proceed.

I'll wear traffic lights in mine, next time.

LEO: Tom Hancock thinks that he's detected a disease cluster

based around power lines.

He's wrong, but give him credit.

There is something going on in the area.

Any random distribution has natural clusters in it.

True.

And I downloaded this data from the Department of Health.

It's local cases of renal disease over the last five

years.

Now, the national occurrence is 10 per 100,000.

But in this area, it's far higher.

Neither Collin Connor nor Peter Hancock

have Franconi syndrome in their family history.

So what if the kidney damage had a different cause,

such as exposure to toxic heavy metals?

For example, mercury, cadmium--

they'd trigger the same syndromes, as would asbestos.

Or weed-killer.

And look at the way that the pattern spreads.

It's a classic groundwater plume.

So what you want us to do?

Take bone marrow samples from Peter and Collin.

If there's toxic metal there, that's where you'll find it.

Heavy metal poisoning didn't kill Peter Hancock.

LEO: So maybe there's something else there?

I've tried to get the local water and salt figures,

but my request has been referred for approval.

I mean, I thought this was public information.

What are they trying to hide?

RACHEL: You all right, sir?

How you doing, Rachel?

The architects have asked if they can

move their meeting to tomorrow.

The minister wants to see you at 4:30.

And there's a David Loader waiting to see you.

David who?

David Loader.

We work for some of the same people.

I'll be shadowing your department for a while.

Can we talk?

LEO: You better not be playing Angry Birds on there.

I'm looking for a local vet.

A vet?

Why?

JACK: Well, a groundwater plumes spreads from a source.

So either we drive all over the county, taking samples,

or we can look for a hot spot.

If there's contamination in the land,

the people most likely to see the effects are local farmers.

Yeah, speaks a country boy.

Why a vet?

Because I know farmers.

They'll tell you nothing.

DAVID: How well do you know Professor Dalton?

JAMES EMBLETON: Dalton?

DAVID: Leo Dalton.

Hardly at all.

I think I've met him once.

As well as sending those e-mails,

he made a search of health department records using

the Lyell Centre's IP address.

Both inquiries put a flag up.

Why?

One of my responsibilities is to make sure

that this particular sleeping dog is allowed to lie.

So with respect, minister, do us both a favour.

And please, don't ask again.

Can I at least know who set the flag?

That was done a long time ago.

Seriously, James, it's no big thing,

and certainly, nothing you can hope to deal with.

Kristin!

It is Kristin, isn't it?

Can we have the available information

on Professor Dalton, please?

The Lyell uses university servers.

OK, thank you.

I'll put a watch on their email traffic.

Can we do that?

Yes we can.

I'll be in touch.

JACK: Thank you very much.

You've been really helpful.

Thanks again.

Take care.

Bye bye.

That a lady vet?

How could you tell.

At least one of you was flirting.

She's only just taken over the practise from a partner who

retired after 35 years.

He told her a story from back in the '70s, when

he'd been drafted in to put down an entire herd

of healthy cattle.

Floods had taken down the fences.

And they had strayed on the forestry land.

He said the ministry sent out people to supervise them.

And the army burned all the carcasses after.

The place is just up the road.

Now what?

Fetch your kit.

By the barbed wire.

There, that'll do.

Yeah.

Place has been stripped out over the years.

Someone's been in and stolen all the lead and copper.

MILITARY OFFICERS: Stay on the ground!

Don't move!

What's going on?

MILITARY OFFICERS: Don't move, sir.

Stay where you are.

JACK: What the hell was--

Jack, Jack, calm down.

MILITARY OFFICER: Are you mad?

We're using live ammunition here.

You don't ignore the signs!

There were no signs.

I'm Leo Dalton.

I'm a forensic pathologist, working at the Lyell Centre.

You can check it with the home office.

What are you doing here?

My job.

What are you doing?

This is a live firing exercise, professor.

I don't know how you got in here,

but I'm going to need your cooperation while I remove you

from the field of fire.

Is this army land?

By arrangement with the landowner.

Come on, then.

Let's go.

Hurry up.

Can you--

Unbelievable.

MILITARY OFFICERS: There you go, sir.

Climb in, gents.

Mind your heads.

Sit tight.

I'll have you out as soon as it's clear.

Where's your kit?

They got it.

Oh, hi.

Hey.

So this is it?

The Embleton Empire.

More or less.

Where is everyone?

Ran off and left me.

So you wanted to talk with me, face to face?

I did.

So, I'm here.

If it's about the crime scene holding up your development,

I can't really give you a time scale, as--

It-- it's not that.

Well, what is it then?

This afternoon, I've had six meetings, made about 30 phone

calls, organised four events designed to convince people

of how much important work my department does,

and you know what thought has been

running through my addled brain the entire time?

Not really.

Sorry about the time it's taken.

Had to wait for the all-clear.

There you are, sir.

Don't wipe your feet.

What?

I need your shoes.

Oh.

They had two hours to mess with my samples

while we sat in the van.

But if that soil is contaminated,

we might have enough here.

I feel so bad for you, Jack.

Why?

You finally talk a co-worker out of their pants,

and it's the professor.

Useful?

GEORGE'S DAUGHTER: Dad, it's for you.

Who is it?

Professor Dalton.

George Rider.

I understand that you were the last owner of Brimstead Farm.

It's taken you long enough to call me back.

Well, we haven't spoken before.

It's about them building on the old convalescent home.

Because If that land's good enough to build on,

I've been lied to.

I got your details from the farmer's union.

But I do want to hear what you have to say.

Who are you?

Professor Dalton from the Lyell Centre.

What's wrong with that land, Mr. Rider?

What do you think?

Who is she?

JAMES EMBLETON: Nikki Alexander.

She's a doctor.

Huh, that'll be handy.

A pathologist.

Oh, I don't need one of them yet.

A forensic pathologist.

She's one of the team on the Brimstead Fields murder.

Well, maybe she'll be able to put

a stop to that cockeyed development plan.

You don't like her?

I don't much like the sound of her.

No.

Hm.

Don't like the sound of her.

I called.

I made an appointment.

I'm sorry, but Lord Embleton isn't here yet.

Mr. Rider, your appointment's with me.

GEORGE RIDER: I call and write letters.

And no one wants to know me.

I say I'll speak to this Professor Dalton,

and suddenly I've got your attention.

What can I do for you?

Who am I talking to?

We're on the same side.

I was told nothing could be done with that land, any of it,

ever.

The development is a mistake.

It was never supposed to happen.

So are they going to build on it or not?

I don't know.

But your situation doesn't change.

Well, that's not good enough for me.

Please, don't do that.

If it's all right to build on Brimstead Fields,

I want the proper value of my farm, not the pittance

I was given when they told me it was worth nothing.

Do you get that?

I understand.

This Lord Embleton, as he calls himself--

you tell him I could make an awful lot of trouble

for him, if I choose.

A big load of trouble.

Mr. Rider, go home and wait for us to call.

This will be dealt with.

Nobody wants trouble, least of all, a man of your age.

Professor Dalton, my information has a value.

If they won't look after me, I'll

take it to someone who will.

Well, can we meet?

I have your address.

No, no, no.

It's my daughter's house.

Keep her out of this.

Well, what are you afraid of?

I'm not afraid.

But I keep my word, and I don't like it

when others don't keep theirs.

First it was Brimstead Farms, now it's Brimstead Fields.

I know why it's been closed all these years.

Look, I'll meet you there.

And I'll tell you what they don't want you to hear.

George?

Mr. Rider?

George?

George?