All language subtitles for new.tricks.s03e01.repack.ws.pdtv.xvid-gothic

Hi, Antonia. It's, it's me, Sandra.

I know it's been ages, but I was
wondering if you fancied a drink
and a bit of a catch-up?

Hello, is Mummy there?

Yes, Mummy.

Or, or Daddy?

All right, a grown-up!

No, no, no, don't cry, don't cry.

MOBILE RINGS

Hi, Jack? It's me, Sandra.

It's not about work, promise.

Hello? Hello, Esther, it's me,
Sandra. Is Brian there, please?

Well, you won't get much sense
out of him but, er, I suppose he
won't mind if it's about work.

Oh, look, no, no, don't bother him.

PHONE RINGS AND A COUPLE GIGGLE

Aren't you gonna get that?

Ooh, Gerry! Come here! Mmm...!
THEY LAUGH

Oh, God!

You bastard!

♪ It's all right, it's OK

♪ Doesn't really matter
if you're old and gre-ey

♪ It's all right, I say, it's OK
listen to what I say

♪ It's all right, doin' fine

♪ Doesn't really matter
if the sun don't shi-ine

♪ It's all right, I say, it's OK

♪ We're gettin' to the end
of the day. ♪

What a waste.

What a terrible waste.

It's only a bloody car!

Only! This is a Ginetta G26.

The perfect marriage of
British design and engineering.

Not any more, it isn't.

I bet it was a woman driver. It
was, actually. What was she doing,

a three-point turn? Actually,
statistically,

women have less accidents
than male drivers.

That's why they get
lower insurance premiums.

No, it's because they don't
have accidents.

They just cause them and walk away.

Nancy Murray didn't walk away.
She went... Who?

Have a look. She hit the wall of
a wine bar at 40mph, went through
the windscreen and died on impact.

Should've been wearing her seatbelt.

"Today, widower Stephen Murray
won his legal battle

for the return of his car
by the Metropolitan Police.

"Classic car dealer Murray had
campaigned for the return of his
car since his wife's death

"on 26th September 2001."
Did he think he could
get it back on the road?

Why would he want to?

His wife died in it.
Oh, he loved this car.

He was working on it the day she
died, bless him. Sabotage? He was
working on the steering that day,

which probably caused the accident
but can't be proved as the
column disintegrated on impact. Nah.

Even with perfect steering, the G26
is a very quick car, very twitchy.

If it's a write-off,
why the hell does he want it back?

Nancy lived here at Amhurst Avenue,
Crouch End, N8. She worked as a
music teacher at the primary school.

She was a member of Neighbourhood
Watch, she did charity work

and hosted a well-attended summer
party. She had ten points on her
driving licence when she died.

Not quite an angel.
Friends and neighbours thought so.

But they didn't say
the same about Stephen Murray.

There were disputes about
his cars in the street.

Nancy used to smooth over troubled
waters, except on the day she died.

Neighbours heard a row
before she left.

So, she was driving angry?

And in an accident black spot.
It's what it says here.

It was an accident waiting to
happen. Just another woman driver!

That is the last time you use
that phrase! It's a joke.

It wasn't funny at the time.

You were on the original case?
Yeah. To begin with.

OK, before we give this car back,
I want us to look at the evidence
again. Especially because of these.

Meet Nancy Murray. Oh, hello!

Stephen Murray discovered these
when he was clearing out Nancy's
belongings after she died.

Dear, oh, Lord! Oh...!

"I have seen what you're
doing and if you don't stop, I
will make sure you are punished."

I have to look. It's evidence.

Poison-pen letters,
found by Stephen with the photos,
accusing Nancy of having an affair.

They were standard initially.
Could've been sent by a neighbour,
then she got these.

"You are nothing but a whore.

"Spread your legs for him again
and you will be sorry."

They're quite graphic.

Go on, get a good eyeful.
I'm only doing my job!

It's strange, isn't it?
There's lots of shots of
her face, but none of his. Yeah.

Clear shot of his arse though.
Oh, aye. She doesn't really
look the type, does she?

She does there.
Yeah, but you know what I mean.

Everybody's "the type."

Given the chance, 99% of us want
a bit on the side. I never have.

I said, given the chance!

I mean, you just don't know what
goes on behind closed doors, do you?

I mean, as we speak, Esther could
be having it away with the milkman.

We haven't got a milkman.
The arrival of these letters
marked a change of motive.

The correspondent started asking
for money. Very perfunctory.

"Get the money
or the school governors see these".

No physical threats. Two different
tones for two motives. Governors? It
would have caused embarrassment.

She might have lost her job, and
been stuck in the house with
nothing to do, nowhere to go...

Why not send them to the husband?
That would cause the most damage.

Cos I think Stephen Murray
wrote them. What, you think he was
blackmailing his own wife?! Yeah.

To torment her, cause her pain.

Scare her out of the affair. Well,
why not just have it out with her?

Maybe he thought
their relationship would collapse.

No. No, it doesn't make sense.

Look, this woman had no detractors.
She was loved!

The only one with an axe to grind
was Stephen Murray. As far as we
know. I mean...

have a word with him, by all means.
I intend to. Shall we, Gerry?

I'm gonna scan these
into my computer.

Have a proper look.
Do you know what I mean about
Stephen Murray wanting his car back?

It's not just me, is it? You
know, I never saw him cry. Not once.

Some men don't. Cold as ice. Even
after the letters were found,
he wouldn't co-operate.

Sandra, he'd just found out his
wife was doing the dirty on him...

in several interesting positions. He
shouldn't have been too surprised.

Josephine Sargent, Nancy's neighbour
and friend, claimed the marriage
was on the rocks. She'd know.

Women tell each other everything.
Apparently not. Christine Gascoine,
another friend,

reckoned that their
marriage was made in heaven.

Apart from the adultery,
high-octane rows and of course,
the horrible death.

You know what Stephen Murray
said when I first spoke to him?

"When do I get the car back?"
Even you wouldn't ask that, Gerry.

Are you all right?

Fine.

Wow, nice motor!

Stephen Murray...? Detective
Superintendent Pullman. This is
Gerry Standing. Remember me?

Oh, yeah, I remember you.

Where's my bloody car? You've had it
five years, never had no use for it.

Maybe not. We're keeping it until
the end of the week. Why?

Well, it's evidence
in an open investigation. Right.

So, I kick up a stink and what,
you make life difficult for me?

It was never ascertained whether
Nancy's death was an accident
or foul play was to blame.

So, if I give you an answer,
you leave me alone? Why?
Have you got some information? Yes.

Nancy was a terrible driver.
She was two points off a ban
because of her lead foot.

I wouldn't let her wash the Ginetta,
let alone drive the thing.

The G26 had plenty of poke.
And she couldn't handle her.

No, 'course not... Yeah,
but she WAS driving that day.

You must have let the little woman
behind the wheel once in a while. We
went through this the first time.

Nancy had a Fiat Panda.
It was in for an MOT.

She needed the car
because she was late.

I let her take it, well,
just to avoid another argument.

The neighbours claim you were
already having one.
We've been through this!

You never even bothered
to look for the boyfriend.

Difficult to trace from the photos.

I've told you all I know.

There's a tattoo!

Ha! Bloke's got a tattoo
on his arse.

Heh-heh! Bloody brilliant.

See, nobody's bothered to look
at these photographs properly
on the original investigation.

Esther, look at this. This tattoo.

That mean anything to you?

Nah, it's all Greek to me.

Or Latin. Looks like Roman numerals.

CMXVLMM. Oh, yes.

Well, that's a bit dull.

I like a stallion, or a bird of prey.

Something a bit wild.
Nice bum though.

Yeah, well...

Better sleep on it.

Come on, love, are you ready?
No. Lights out.

I'll read this chapter.
I need to finish it for book group.

Is it any good? Oh, yes.

Bobby was right about it.

Bobby?

PHONE RINGS

Hello, Antonia, how are you?

No, of course I'm not working,
it's far too late for that.

Yeah, no, I'm good.

I know it's been a while, but
I wondered if you fancied coming
for dinner, maybe on Thursday?

Just say, "no." Just say, "no."

Just... Jayne? Everything all right?

Yeah. Sorry about the short notice.

No, it's no problem at all. Here,

let's get your coat. Thanks. Oh, oh,
that's nice, innit? Look at that, oh!

What are you playing at?! I just
thought it'd save some time.
I'm not here for that.

We don't always have to do THAT.

Gerry, all this, it's got to stop.
We've talked about this. We're not
doing anything to be ashamed of.

We are consenting adults after all.

I've met someone. What d'you mean,
you've met someone? Who? When?

Well, I've not been seeing him long,
but he's more than just
a someone now.

Well, you didn't mention that
the other night, did ya?

Well, I didn't really have
the chance. I meant to. Look...

this won't be happening again, OK?
Things have changed now.

He's proposed, Gerry.

It's not what the letters say,
it's how they say it.

"No-one will ever want
to look at you again
if you meet him one more time."

Extortion letters
are usually cut and dry.

"Give me the money or else."
But this is more...sinister.

Personalised. Which brings us back
to the jealous husband.

Exactly. Why blackmail her? She'd
be paying out of their joint account.

Unless it wasn't about the money.

It was about what he'd
already planned for her. Go on.

Without the letters, he's
prime suspect for her murder.

So, he sends the letters
to create another suspect.

Clever. Convoluted. I think these
letters were written by a woman.

How do you work that out? Because
she threatens Nancy with the worst
thing a woman could think of.

Disfigurement. Humiliation.

I'm not enthralled with the idea
of being disfigured either.
It's worse for a woman.

Because we're judged on looks first
and what's in our heads second.
Yeah, and don't you just love it?

Women get what they want by
leading us around by our dicks!

I'm not even gonna dignify
that with a response.

Look at the women in Nancy's life -
Christine Gascoine, Josie Sargent.
Their statements were contradictory.

I have an appointment
with Christine this morning.

Should I test her on car mechanics?
They're both capable of writing
a letter.

Let's not skirt round the evidence.
Theory, not evidence.

Stephen Murray's master plan
is still only a theory.
Yeah, for the time being.

Now, Gerry. If you can just
drag your knuckles to your car.

We have an appointment at
Our Lady Primary School. If I must.

I spent half my school life
waiting outside the head's office.

I don't think I could've told
you where my head's office was.
Girly swot!

Here, what're you in for, mate?

VIA MICROPHONE: Next.

Of course, it was the end
of innocence for the school,

after the accident.

It was like the outside world
had invaded.

The children were,
obviously, very upset.

We tried to protect them as much as
possible, but the rumours ran rife.

The Head resigned
because of the stress.

And you took over?

I was acting Head for a while,
but the board saw I was a safe
pair of hands and made it official.

Worked out OK in the end then.

That's not for me to say,
but I think the parents are happy.

Sadly, things didn't pan out
quite so well for Nancy, did they?

Poor Nancy. Thank goodness
she wasn't here to listen
to the lies. Lies?

Well, you never managed to find him,
did you? The man.

What about the photographs? Fakes.

A schoolboy prank?

I can assure you, they're er...
They're not fakes.

Then I don't know what
you want me to say.

Neighbours reported hearing
a row the day Nancy died.

Any idea what it
might have been about?

It could have been anything.
It was a regular occurrence then?
They always made up.

Not that day.
Stephen and Nancy had a romantic
holiday booked in the Seychelles.

Is that a couple
on the verge of splitting up?

We're trying to locate Josephine
Sargent. Do you know where she is?

We lost touch.

Hang on a minute, I wanna go
to the loo. Excuse me, could you
tell where the ladies' is?

Yeah, just around the corner
and to your left. Cheers, thanks.

'Bryony. Send Jeremy in.' Yes,
Miss Gascoine.

Jeremy?

Miss Gascoine will see you now.

Jeremy... Bit of advice.

Deny everything.

A bit strict, is she? Yeah.

Oh, well.

That's my card.

There's my mobile. Oh, I see.
Gerry! Put her back where
you found her and come on!

My headmistress.

Yeah.

Wo-ho!
Come on, Sandra, for old time's sake.

You're a sod.
You do know that, Gerry, don't you?

Bryony was nice.

Strictly business, of course.

The Grange. One o'clock tomorrow.

I don't wanna know.

That's where Christine is meeting
Josephine Sargent for lunch.

It's in the diary on Bryony's desk.

"Nice bum!"
What defines a nice bum anyway?

Damn! What's the matter? Oh...

This bloke who's showing
his arse to all and sundry.

He's got a tattoo - look!

It's all Roman numerals. God knows
what they mean. I can't work it out.

Hundred, thousand, fifteen, fifty,
two thousand?

Well, can't be his lottery numbers.

Maybe he plays bingo?

I reckon he could play something
you know, looks like a sportsman.

He's a big bloke. Rugby player?

Rugby player! Of course! Fifteen.
Fifteen players on a rugby team.

It's a possibility.

If that's a rugby club,
then we can find him.

There must be 100
in the Greater London area alone.

No, no. Not if CM are the initials
of the club. Look, C M Fifteen.

Maybe it's not all numerals.

They could be his own initials.

Would you call that a nice bum?

Breakthrough. This end an' all.

Good. Hope you've got a decent suit.
You and Jack are going out
for lunch tomorrow.

If I see a sun-dried tomato,
I'm walking.

Thank you.

I could murder a chip butty. Wash
your mouth out. We're on expenses.

Eh-up, the eagle has landed.

Do we have to sit here?

I like the window. Don't you think
it's a bit...? I got here on time,
so I chose the seat I wanted.

Maybe next time. Fine.

To an absent friend. To Nancy.

I've had the police at the school.
They've reopened the investigation.
What on earth for?

Stephen won his case. He's getting
the car back. That damn car!

Even you must think
that's suspicious.

Must we have this discussion
every time? Christine, get real!

Why do you think he wants it back?
Because it's evidence. The police
ruled sabotage out.

Ready to order, gentlemen? I'll have
the soup and the fish, please.

Haven't you got any pies?
He'll have the same.

Thank you. Thank you.

Christine...
maybe it's time to tell the truth.

You've got a nerve!
Nancy wouldn't have wanted
to put us through all this.

You thought you knew what
she wanted once before.

So, we continue to shield Nancy.

She's not here to do it herself.

Yes, OK.

Good girl. I'm not one
of your infants, Christine!

PHONE RINGS

Yeah, I see her. OK, you carry on
looking for the rugby player.

OK. Follow her.

Talk about a needle in a haystack.

This is a total waste of time.

Just stay with me, Jack,
I've got a hunch.

What approach will you use?

Sorry, mate. The direct one.

I'm a Northerner.

Should've brought the riot gear.

Are you gentlemen lost?

Sorry, lads. We'll come back later.
Can you help us out?

Well, we'll do our best.

Do you remember any of your
players having a tattoo?

Only most of them! Oh, yeah, right.
Well, we're specifically looking
for this fella.

No, mate.

Josie Sargent?

You're keen. Wonderful! Come in.

Now, erm... I usually start
with a disrobing ceremony. Sorry?!

It helps us to re-evaluate
and re-appreciate our own
and our partner's naked form.

Woah! Woah, woah!
Who are you thinking we are?

Mr and Mrs Holmes?
Detective Superintendent Pullman.

This is Gerry Standing. We need
to talk to you about Nancy Murray.

Are you going to be comfortable
talking to the fully-clothed?

They're only bodies.
We've all got one.

Not like theirs, you haven't.

Yeah, all right, all right!

Now then...

Christine Gascoine said that
you two were no longer friends.

We're not. You just had lunch
with her.

We do that every year.
Raise a glass to Nancy.

I still miss her. Then why
didn't you hang around until
the investigation was over?

You made your statement,
then disappeared. I'd told
the police everything.

My marriage had broken up and
there was nothing for me here,
so I moved to San Francisco.

Ah! Is that where you
got into the sex stuff?

Yes, sex therapy.

I attended a few orgasm seminars and
discovered I had a talent for it.
For orgasms?!

For helping couples achieve them.

People struggle with that? Moving
to the States must have cost a bit.

I had a rich ex-husband
and a good solicitor.

Before you left, you and Christine
gave conflicting statements.

I told the truth.

You thought that Nancy was on
the verge of leaving Stephen.
Christine said the opposite.

Christine envied Nancy and
her life. But she saw it through
rose-tinted glasses.

That marriage was not as happy
as everyone thought. How so?

Nancy was a musician. Teaching
seven years olds to play
the recorder did not satisfy her

and the sexual revolution
had passed Stephen by.

He thought marriage was dinner
on the table and clean shirts. So,
she sought solace elsewhere?

You've seen the photos.

Do you think Stephen knew?
I don't know, maybe.

How do you think he would've
reacted? How would any man react?

Did er...Stephen have
a violent temper?

When a man is wounded, in
my experience, he lashes out.

This'll be the one. When you're
looking for something, it's always
in the last place you look.

That's because you stop looking
once you've found it, you berk!

Hey, lads! Excuse me, mate!

Would you mind
having a look at this?

I'd know that arse anywhere!
That's Larry Bevan.

Chigwell Mount 15.

50 Points. 2000.

Larry was the top scorer of
the tour...in more ways than one.

Oh, yeah?

He always had a bird,
and she usually paid his way.

Vive la sexual revolution!

If she complained, he kicked them
into touch. Oh, Prince Charming(!)

Let me put it this way,
I never introduced him to my sister.

Or my wife. Lawrence Alistair Bevan.

Larry to his mates. He sees women
as a meal ticket.

Apparently, they're
always queuing up to feed him.

Well, if they're daft enough
to be won over by a nice arse...

So, it is a nice arse.

Never mind. I think we've got
a potential blackmailer.

Lives beyond his means and exploits
women for money. Doesn't make him
a murderer.

Why is that what we're looking for?
There's no proof Nancy was murdered.

Except she died in her
mechanic husband's car.

Which she was not allowed to drive.

He let her drive it that day. Woah,
woah! Hold on. Look at that.

The petrol tank was full. And?
Stephen's a mechanic.

He'd know an empty tank was
far more dangerous than a full one.

What?
There was no explosion on impact.

So, that's a tick in the no box.

If you're gonna kill your wife,
you have the petrol tank empty of
petrol and therefore full of vapour,

producing an
evidence-destroying explosion.

The bastard wanted the car back. He
just didn't know how long it would
take. You're being ridiculous.

Why can't you see beyond
Stephen Murray, even when
the evidence points elsewhere?

Evidence! We bring you good leads
which you shoot down. You twist
things to suit your theory.

I'm doing nothing of the sort. It is
what you're doing! I don't know why
this has got under your skin,

but you should take a step back.
Take a night off.

It's what we're all thinking.
Are you?

Well, thanks for your concern. I was
planning to leave early anyway.
I'm throwing a dinner party...

for my friends.

What friends?!

Cooking?

Piece of piss.

Come in. It's through here.

It's not much, but it's mine.

It's lovely. Isn't it, Sally?

Smashing.

Oh, thank you.

So, Tim, what do you do?
Antonia didn't say.

I work in the city.

Great. Do you enjoy it?
It pays the bills.

It's not very exciting. I don't know,
you should hear what the Fraud Squad
say about your lot!

But that's not important. How's the
property business doing, Donald?
Great.

Good.

So, Sandra, how are things with you?

We thought we'd lost you to
the Met for good. No, not at all.
I close the door on it these days.

They get me nine to five. That's it.
Thank heavens! There was a time that
was all you talked about.

Yeah, I suppose I was a bit
immersed. Obsessed!

And it did your
sex life no good either. Sandra
could put a bloke off at 20 paces.

30! I once caught her lecturing
this lovely chap on what constituted
a sexual assault.

And he'd only touched her knee!
THEY ALL LAUGH

I don't remember that.
Oh, you must!

I was mortified for the poor chap.

He couldn't escape quick enough!
Oh, look, we're out of wine.
I'll get another bottle.

I've got er, red, white...

Shiraz? Maybe Cabernet?

Of course.

Anything but Merlot!
THEY LAUGH

Well, somebody had to say it.

Yes, Jack. So you've said.
Oh, it's no good, I can't bear it.

I'm gonna have to go round there
and make it right.

How did I know that was gonna happen?

She won't thank you if she's got
friends round. Anyway, you said
you were giving me a lift home.

I will, I will, after!

What the hell are you doing?!
Nothing, just fiddling.
Come on, if we're going.

You know who we should
introduce Sandra to? Barry.

Of course! What a brilliant idea!

Tim plays golf with him.
I'm sure we could orchestrate
a chance encounter.

I'm not really into that kind
of thing. Don't be shy.

He's fantastic. I think
his divorce has come through now.

Last week. And the kids are nearly
at uni, so you won't have them
to worry about.

What do you think? I think I need
more wine. Anyone else?

Absolutely.
Well, that's that sorted then.

We'll try and do something next week.
I'm probably busy next week.

I thought we weren't going to let
work dominate you any more. Oh,
it's not with work.

I'm actually seeing someone.
Well, why didn't you say?

I couldn't. Why?

Not married, is he?
SHE LAUGHS

Yes.

Yes, Brian is married.

And Jack's a widower.
You're cheating on a married man?

No, no, they're very good friends
actually. With Gerry too.

There's a Gerry?

Oh, there's a Gerry all right.

Mmm. This is lovely.
Would you like some more? Great.

I love Merlot, don't you?

The cheaper the better, I say.
Cheers!

DOORBELL RINGS
Mmm... Excuse me.

Sandra, I know you're
entertaining... Thank God for that.

Get in here now! Come on, come on.

Well, this is fortuitous.
Let me introduce Jack...

..and Brian.

Oh, the old flowers, hey?

Yeah, very romantic.

Hmph! That will all stop once
he gets you down the aisle.

Oh, all right. For Christ's sake!
HE BEEPS HORN

Oh, no! Shit!

Oh, my God!

Out the car, Gerry!

Oh, hello.
What are you playing at?

Oh, I just popped by.

Why are you here?!

To check him out. Well, you never
said you wanted to get married
again and I'm not a mind-reader!

Oh, that's for sure.

Look, what I'm saying is,
all you had to do was ask.

You didn't have to do this to prove
a point. If you fancy another crack
at marriage, fair enough.

We'll see how we get on, hey?
Uurrrgghhh! Agh!

Jayne? Jayne?

Roses. Huh!

I came round to say
that I'm sorry, and...

to see what was going on with you.
SNORING

I've seen you get... Obsessed?

That's the second time someone's
said that about me tonight.

I know how you feel. I know how
easy it is to get emotionally
involved in certain cases.

We've all done it. But believe me,

your judgement's clouded.

No matter what you think
of a suspect, or what
they might have done,

the only thing that really matters
is the evidence.

OK, maybe I am a bit too close.

When I first got the case,
I was a DI with the area
Major Investigation Pool.

It should have been a routine
clear-up,

but I knew from the first time I
questioned Stephen Murray, there was
something behind this "accident."

All he cared about was the
bloody car - bet it was the same
when she was alive as well.

She was a bright, beautiful woman.

A talented musician,
with lots to offer.

And then she married Stephen.
That's not fair.

Home, work and the occasional
trip to the wine bar,
where she eventually died.

I mean, when she married,
her life contracted
to within a five-mile radius.

Well, maybe that was her choice.
Why does it have to be a choice?

Why is it always either or
and not...everything?

Are we still talking about Nancy?

I didn't finish the investigation.

I got offered promotion
to DCI and I accepted it.

Well, of course you did. I handed
all my cases over, including
Nancy's, to another DI, a male DI.

He believed, like everyone else,
she was an hysterical woman driver.

I let her down, Jack.

Hey-hey!

I've got it! Well, you can keep it.

Sandra! What?

Larry Bevan's well known to the Met.

Just petty convictions, ABH,
drunk and disorderly, the usual.

But he's on file,
and so is his address.

Lawrence Bevan? Yes.
Detective Superintendent Pullman.

We're here concerning Nancy Murray's
death. Can I use your toilet, mate?

Yes, it's outside. Ta.

Nancy who?

Perhaps these will clarify things.

Yes. But that's from a few years ago.

But you do remember her now, yeah?

Oh, yes. Perhaps you also
remember blackmailing her?

Sandra, have a look.

Excuse me, don't you need a warrant?

Not if I'm going to arrest you.
Which I fully intend to do. Now...

Yours or mine?

How long were you seeing Nancy
Murray? About six months. Was it
a sexual relationship from the off?

Yeah.

How often did you meet?
I don't know. Twice a week, maybe.

Right up till she died? Yeah.
Why didn't you come forward
when that happened?

It didn't seem appropriate.
We weren't that close.
You were sleeping together.

Professionally.

Nancy was paying me for it.
Every Tuesday and Thursday.

It started out just Tuesday,
but then...

she couldn't get enough.
Where did you do business?

Wherever. My place, her place...

Were you ever interrupted by
Stephen Murray? Could you have been
observed? No. Not on my watch.

Discretion is guaranteed.

Alphabetical and chronological.

Nice.

"Janice, Janet, Jackie,
Jean, Jessica, Josephine..."

Ah-ha!

Right, lads, there's boxes
under the bed, take the lot.

Start with the computer through
there. OK.

MOBILE RINGS

Hello?
Ah, Jack? Yes, they've just arrived.

Er, I need you to give er,
a message to Sandra.

Well, interrupt her!
She'll wanna hear this.

Nancy must have left
quite a hole in your diary
when she so thoughtlessly died.

I didn't hear a thing
until I read it in the paper.

I figured the family wouldn't want me
turning up at the chapel of rest. I'm
not a complete tosser. Not quite!

Didn't you feel any responsibility
to come forward? No. It was just
business.

I slept with her for money,
not pleasure.
KNOCK AT DOOR

Interview suspended at...11.04.

Go on. Ask.

What?

- Blokes always ask. It's OK, fine.
- OK, if it was just business,

- how did you...?
- Get it up?

Never had a problem.

Honestly, all I've ever needed
is an active imagination.

- That's not to say I've never
used the little blue pills.
- I knew it!

Ah, yes, but for me, you see,
it's a question of reduced
recovery time, increased turnover.

I could give the Elephant Woman
one...

if she paid enough!

What can you tell us
about your relationship
with Josephine Sargent?

I'm afraid this isn't
very convenient!

Oh, Christ, I'm so sorry!

I'll call you next week. OK, thanks.

You set the Schofields back
about six weeks.

I apologise, but perhaps if
you'd told us about Larry Bevan...

So, do you wanna tell us
why you shared a prostitute
with your best mate?

She was depressed.

Still not getting it.

My husband and I were...
sexually incompatible.

He couldn't find his way
around a woman without a map.

I saw Larry's ad and...

He was incredible.
Just what I needed.

It was all about me and MY needs.

I was transformed.

I wanted my friends to feel as
good as I was, so I recommended
him to both Nancy and Christine.

Christine as well? They both
refused to even think about it.

Christine called me a sinner,
of course.

But Nancy did end up with Larry?

Mmm. I threw a party and paid him
to be there and introduced them.

And that's when the blackmail
letters started. Wait, no!

And then you disappeared to America.
I was already planning to go!

What? Leave the amazingly talented
Mr Bevan to Nancy?

No! It was...er...a one-off.

And I wasn't jealous!

He was a catalyst. A short-term
solution. For Nancy as well.

Well, she perked up. She and
Stephen started to get on better.

They booked a holiday.

It was wonderful to see her
with a smile on her face.

Yeah, cos she was still seeing him.

What?
After your little "introduction,"

Nancy became a regular.

Oh, yes! I love pasta night.

Josephine Sargent
was the blackmailer.

She was seeing Larry
at the same time as Nancy.

Now, she knew he liked taking
photos and it wouldn't have been
hard for her to find Nancy's.

Didn't take me long. Motive?
Sexual jealousy. There you go.

Why does he get something special?

I only like twisty pasta.

Fusilli. Whatever.

It's covered in the same gunk. Gunk?

That is handmade pesto, you peasant!

Twists taste better.

Josie reckons that Larry
was just therapy.

I don't buy that. Women have never
been able to separate their nether
regions from their hearts. Bollocks.

All right, how many women do you know
who've been devastated
by one-night stands?

Couple. Yeah! More like thousands.
Whereas men can just walk away.

No harm, no foul. Not me.
I'm a one-woman man.

The exception that proves the rule.
Did you find anything else
in Larry's collection?

No, not yet. But I'm not finished.

How long have we got? Three days
till the car goes back.
We don't just stop then, do we?

No, but whatever that car's
hiding, and it is,
will be lost to us then.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Who's that at this time of night?
Excuse me, I'll be back in a minute.

Jayne, I wasn't expecting you.

We've got to sort this. I can't talk
now. I've got people from work.

I don't care if you've got
the Chief Super here!

I want to be there when she
gets home. Ssh! You meant it then?
What you said?

You want to get married again...
to me?

Well, I mean...

OK. I'll cancel my other wedding.
Let's do it.

Woah, woah, not so fast. Look,
we've got things to discuss...
I knew it! I bloody knew it!

You don't want to marry me!
You just don't want me
to marry anybody else.

You were thinking about
it though, weren't you? Oh!

We'll still have dinner. What, with
him there? And if he thinks he's
carving the bird at Christmas...

Is that all you're worried about,
who gets to carve?!

I'm head of the table!

Oh, sweetheart,
you've never been head of anything!

LAUGHTER

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Come on, get it out of your systems.

Men just walk away, do they?

No harm! No foul!

Yeah, well, I've asked so many women
to marry me, it just popped out.
You've never asked me.

Would you say yes? No!
THEY LAUGH

There you go then!

No, I mean the full cost
of the holiday.

I see, but it WAS refunded?

You've been very helpful. Thank you.
Bye.

What are you doing?
It's going back to the owner.

What d'you mean, it's going back
to the owner? It's too early.
Not according to this.

(He's coming!) Sandra, you're gonna
give Brian another nervous breakdown!

What's going on?! Don't touch them.

I wouldn't get in the way. She's not
even keeping them in order! I've got
a system, for God's sake, a system!

Sandra, tell us what's going on.
They've given Stephen Murray
his bloody car back!

Is that all?!

Is that all?! They've given
a murderer back his murder weapon!
Hold on! We don't know that.

Oh, I do! Nancy and Stephen
booked a three-week holiday
in the Seychelles,

due to fly out the week she died.
Stephen cancelled it.

Well, maybe he didn't think
it was appropriate to go
to the funeral with a tan!

He cancelled it three days
before the crash.
When did you find that out?

Just now. I waited for the call.
You can't follow your own lines
of inquiry just to prove a point.

That's not police work.
That's a vendetta.

Gerry, you're with me.

Got what you wanted then?
I'm just taking back what's mine.

You never did finish doing it up.
Never got the steering quite right!
I don't have to listen to this!

You let her take the car
to save another argument, yeah?

She was angry and in a hurry to see
someone. I never wanted her
to crash. Hold on, see who?

Where was she going?
Christine or Josie.
It was always one or the other.

Please explain this to me,
why did you cancel your holiday?

What? You're a very
practical man, Mr Murray.

My wife died!

Have a premonition, did we?

I don't remember.

Remember these?
I've seen them before,
I don't need to see them again.

Why? How do they make you feel?
I don't know. Happy? Sad? Angry?

That's the one! What did you wanna
do when you saw these? Wipe that
smile off her face? Sandra!

Come on! You must have wanted
to make her pay. You don't
understand!

I don't understand how you
barely reacted when your wife died.

Why you didn't want an investigation
when she was cheating on you.
Enough!

And why you'd want to sit in a car
that killed the woman you supposedly
loved! I do love her!

DID love her!
More than she ever knew.

She didn't need to... Need to what?

You were well out of order
back there.

All he was saying... Oi!
What are you doing?

CARS BEEP THEIR HORNS
If you've got a death wish,
that's all right.

But I'd like to see
my grandson's 18th.

TYRES SCREECH
Jesus! What did you say?

CAR BEEPS HORN
Hey? About your grandson.
What did you say?

I'd like to take my grandson
out for a pint.

Look, look, look, why don't I drive?

TYRES SCREECH
Sandra!

She turned right here without
stopping, nearly causing
an accident. Mmm!

She was doing 50mph, despite
it being a 30-mile limit.

Woah, woah, woah! Nice! She could
have done it at any point
during the journey. Done what?

She drove without stopping for red
lights, junctions, other drivers.
Sandra, what are you doing?

She was then seen approaching
The Grange at full speed.

She crossed over the roundabout,
mounted the pavement, hit the wall
at an estimated 40mph. Oh, Jesus!

She died on impact. You've lost it!
Slam on the brakes,
that's all she had to do.

She could have stopped, but
she didn't. She intended to kill
herself. This doesn't make sense.

Stephen said she was meeting someone.
Someone she'd just had a screaming
match with.

That's what the neighbours heard.

She came here to kill two people.
Herself and whoever it was
she'd arranged to meet.

I'm taking these. Get out!

Oh, you...!

I shall kill you! Brian, Brian.

What are you doing?

There's a password on this file.

I am not leaving till I get it.

You'll be here all night. Will I?

No, hang on, hang on, hang on.

COMPUTER BLEEPS
Yes! Got it!

Casanova.

The cheeky bastard.

Why would he wanna be Casanova?

Casanova had more than his
fair share of men, a baby with
his daughter, syphilis...

Yes, thank you, Brian,
I get the picture.

Look, it's his website files.

There we go.

Oh, no, not more flesh!

No, Jack, look, look.

Look at the face.

Right. Does, er, Christine Gascoine
know she's a dotcom starlet?

Christine's what I call
a bread and butter client.

Five years regular income, even in
the quiet months. Low maintenance,

just a quick in and out. As it were.

Sometimes, she just needs a few soft
words, not always the full works.

She just likes cuddling.
Gives me a rest, actually.

Must be exhausting,
taking all those photos.

It's a perk of the job.

Quite lucrative.

It's a niche market.
Amateurs, reality porn.

Your pictures turning up in
a blackmail case is pretty damning.

They were stolen from my collection.
Maybe you should talk to Christine
about that. She stole them?

I don't know,
I never had it out with her.

It's not good business
to interrogate your clients.

Unless they ask you to, of course!

The way I see it,
Christine was just warning Nancy off.

Until she decided to blackmail her.

Come on, whose bright idea
was it to ask for money?

Talk to Christine. Christine
Gascoine, you've been arrested
on suspicion of blackmail.

Anything to say? This is an invasion
of our privacy. If Larry and I
choose to be together,

it's none of your business.
It is when you're both
suspected of a serious crime.

Larry knew nothing.

He's a proud man. He wouldn't
have wanted any part of it.

It was all me.

Mmm.

Some of my best work.

If you can call it that.
We'll be keeping your
collection for our files.

Plenty more where they came from.

How do you do that? What's that?

The confidence thing.
The cocky tosser act.

I know what women want.

And what's that? Hmm...

They want to know that they're loved.
That they're the only one for you.

Even if it is all bollocks!

He's so gentle and caring. Nobody
sees that side of him except me.

Some nights, we don't make love.
He just holds me. For money.

I don't pay for him.

I just, I help him out
from time to time.

It breaks his heart when he has to
take my money or go to other women.
Like Nancy.

She was greedy.

I mean, she had a husband.

Why did she need another man?
And your man, at that. Exactly.

I could smell her on his sheets.

She was ruining things
just because she could,
because she had the money.

So, you decided
you wanted your share?

If I could get enough,

he could give it all up.

Give her up.

But then she had her accident.

Christine...
She was a terrible driver, you know.

Always in trouble.

It wasn't an accident.
You know that. You were there.

Oh, the look on her face!

She knew what I had done.

How did she find out?

The letters hadn't stopped her
seeing him.

I was desperate,
so I rang and begged her.

No-one should have to beg her friend
for the man she loves.

She refused to understand.

Told me I was mad, stupid.

She screamed for me to meet her,
to sort things out.

I thought if I met her
somewhere public, I'd be safer.

And then the car just kept coming.

I thought she was going
to give me a scare.

But no, she was trying to kill me.

She was my best friend.

Well? Full confession. And Casanova?
We haven't got a thing on him and
he knows it. Slimy little shit!

You reckon he knew about the
blackmail? Maybe. After the fact.

Even if he was in it
from the off, Miss Jean Brodie
isn't going to implicate him.

Go back in there and press him.
Ask him about his relationship with
Christine, how he feels about her.

We've been there, done that.
Just do it.

If you'd like to take a seat.

Sandra!

You can't do this!

The poor woman thinks
that bastard loves her!

She deserves the truth.

So, you just kept her on as...

What did you call her -
"Bread and butter?" Mmm.

Well, she was never gonna be
fillet steak, was she?

It took me two years to talk her
into letting me photograph her.

Christine is not a natural porn star.

Which you promptly put
on your website?

Mmm. No! I told you, niche market.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying
her shots are the most popular.

Even internet geeks have standards!
No!

I'm sorry.

Very clever.

I hope you don't expect me
to thank you for that.

No, I don't.

Good.

What happens now?

She's been charged with blackmail.

You know, I think it was all a bit
of a relief for her in the end.
And for you? It's not over yet.

I owe Stephen Murray an apology.

Want some backup? No.

It's my mess, I don't deserve it.
Right, I think a drink's in order.

Not for me, thanks, I'm just gonna
head home. See ya. Night, Sandra.
Where's Brian? No idea.

It's just you and me then?
As long as you don't propose!

Oh, you little Northern vixen, you!

We believe that the pressure
of the blackmail campaign,
then the shock of discovering

who was terrorising her
was a major factor in Nancy's death.
We think her intention

was to kill Christine Gascoine
and herself. Obviously, I'd like
to offer my unreserved apologies

for any accusations I may have
levelled. Stupid woman. As I said,
I'm very sorry.

Not you, her!

She never had to do this.

I knew she was having an affair,
I didn't care.

She was happy, she was my Nancy
again. You knew? Yeah.

I just wanted somebody
to put a smile on her face,
because I couldn't any more.

I didn't know this was gonna happen.
So, what about the holiday?

It was meant to be a surprise.

We'd been getting on so well,
I thought that... I thought
I'd spring it on her.

Her face fell at the thought of
three weeks with me, and three weeks
without him, so I cancelled.

I knew my days with her
were numbered, but...

..I just wanted to hold onto her
for a bit longer. Stephen,
why did you want the car back?

Because it came from a time
when Nancy loved me.

And I want to go back there.

It's OK.

Brian? I'm back.

Brian?

Oh, what...?

Where are you?

What are you...?

Where on earth are you?

What on earth are you playing at?

Oh, no!

It was supposed to be a surprise.

I was being romantic.

Oh, how sweet.
I've ruined it now.

Ooh, couldn't keep me flaming eyes
open.

I was bringing the magic back.
What magic?

Well, I know you've been bored
of me.

That Bobby's turned your head.

Bobby? Yeah, suggesting
you read all those mucky books.

Bobby is a 72-year-old
retired hairdresser from Cheam.

Roberta! Oh!

But you started going on about
nice bums and tattoos and things.

I'm married, not dead!

Ow! Don't tell me you never look.
What's the matter, is it your back?

You know you said you like
tattoos...?

Well, where is it?

Where do you think? Come on,
you'd better show me. Yeah? Mmm.

I don't believe this!

Well, what is it? It's a penguin!

A penguin? What is it?!
SHE LAUGHS

You know, cos we met in a library.

When you were nicking that
Lady Chatterley's Lover.

It was a Penguin book.

You said you liked birds!

Yes, well. It's lovely, Brian.
HE LAUGHS

Ooh, steady! Careful!

♪ It's all right, it's OK

♪ Doesn't really matter
if you're old and gre-ey

♪ It's all right, I say, it's OK

♪ Listen to what I say

♪ It's all right, doin' fine

♪ Doesn't really matter
if the sun don't shi-ine

♪ It's all right, I say, it's OK

♪ We're gettin' to the end
of the day

♪ High-tech, low-tech
Take your pick

♪ Cos you can't teach an old dog
a brand new trick

♪ I don't care what anybody says...

♪ At the end of the day. ♪

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd,