All language subtitles for Inspector.Lynley.s05e04

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.

Clear! We found his press card.
Cheers.

No. Going again. 360 Charge. 360.

Clear!

Asystole.

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

Er, time of death 22.15.

Doctor, is there anything
else you can tell me?

Er, 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.

Ah, 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 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,

with 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.

Oh!

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?

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?

You said you'd ring me back early
this week. ..Right, OK, I'm here
waiting.

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
is 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 3am 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.

Oh, 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? Er, 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.
DOOR OPENS

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?

Oh, 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.

So you had a conversation that
consisted of total silence?

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?

This is Soho, Sergeant.
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, er,

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.

Just get it done by tomorrow
morning, all right?
Cheers. ..Idiots.

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. 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.

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?

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.
Anything else?

The bruising is stronger down the
right-hand side,

which would suggest
that the attacker was left-handed.

Well, the question is whether the
beating and the death are connected.

And if the beating was a warning,
what did Rooker do...or not do?

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.

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.

I thought he lived in Marylebone?
He's been paying the rent on a
one-bedroom flat on the high street.

The tenant's name, Nina Delic.

Well, that was hard work.

They tried to say you've gotta knock
first and if they don't answer,
you've gotta come back later.

What is it with lettings people?

You try going through life
not quite smart enough to
even make the sales team.

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.

Hmm, this morning's post.

She must've been here today.

Hmm, 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?

Um, 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.
Er, 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 here.

Right here the 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.

Let's hope that proves to be true.

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, erm, 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?
Hmm, 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.

Er, 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.

Get Eddie Price in
to make a statement.

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?

Uh, 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-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.

MELISSA: '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 wont help
my husband with his homework. No,
you're right.

Sometimes work just takes over.

You tired?

Er, 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?

Er, 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?
DOOR OPENS

Detective Inspector...

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.

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."

'I heard someone behind me,
I-I froze.'

It was Peter.

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.

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 d'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.

Mmm.

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.

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? Er, 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.

It's all right.

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.

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