New Tricks (2003–2015): Season 6, Episode 5 - New Tricks - full transcript
Five years earlier Dean Scott was found dead of shot-gun wounds and suicide was the verdict. Now ex-hooker Alice Hill tells the team she was at Dean's house at the time and believes he was murdered. Mike Barnes, Dean's shifty partner, rooked his widow Pam and turns out to be an ex-bank robber, who used the loot to start the business. The search switches to the other robbers, one of whom has gone straight and the other - who fought with Dean the night before the death because he was seeing Pam - is under witness protection. The missing loot is found but the fact that Pam and Alice already knew each other complicates the murder theory.
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Morning, Andy.
- Morning, Mr. Halford.
- Call me on the
mobile when it's done.
Oh, so you know how
to use a mobile now?
Just do the MOT.
No disrespect, Mr. Halford.
Sorry, mate, I had
to bring them with me.
- Strickland wants us
to meet him at Mill Hill.
- And this is the only mode
of transport between us?
- Yeah, I got clamped.
Somebody nicked the
front wheel off me bike.
- I'm riding shotgun.
Come on, we're late!
It's actually not
too bad back here.
Just keep wiggling your toes.
- Why?
So you don't get DVT.
- Eh?
Deep-vein thrombosis.
♪ It's alright, it's okay ♪
♪ doesn't really matter
if you're old and gray ♪
♪ It's alright, I
say, it's okay ♪
♪ listen to what I say ♪
♪ It's alright, doin' fine ♪
♪ doesn't really matter
if the sun don't shine ♪
♪ It's alright, I
say, it's okay ♪
♪ we're gettin' to the
end of the day ♪ ♪
Subtitling made
possible by Acorn Media
Sorry to keep you,
sir. Car trouble.
And bike trouble.
- You're probably all
wondering what I'm doing here.
It had occurred to us.
- I've been asked to
pilot a new scheme
which aims to
ensure senior ranks
interface more regularly
with what's happening
further down the
chain of command.
Slumming it, you mean.
I prefer to see
it as maintaining
a ground-up
approach to policing.
Shall we get started?
Five years ago,
Dean Scott was found
dead right where I'm standing.
He'd apparently shot
himself with his own gun.
At the time, it was
recorded as suicide.
Dean Scott, as some
of you may remember,
made his fortune
in the late '80s
from a huge timeshare resort.
Oh, the Lord of Lanzagrotty.
Indeed.
Last week, an
escort called Alice Hill
came forward to say that
she'd witnessed somebody
forcing their way into the
house shortly before he died,
so I want you to
reopen the case.
Was he as dodgy as he sounds?
No. No criminal record.
But I think the "Death of
a Timeshare Salesman"
should be dealt with as
thoroughly as any other.
Don't you agree?
Right, follow me.
"Death of a Timeshare Salesman"?
I bet he's been
practicing that all morning.
Now, according to
Alice Hill's statement,
"I was round at Dean's house.
When I was leaving,
I grabbed my things
and slipped out the back so
the neighbors wouldn't see me,
walked off down the drive,
heard this metal, banging noise,
turned around
and there was this bloke
really pounding on the front door.
Dean answered it. They
started kicking off, big-time.
Then the bloke pushed
his way in and I legged it."
Ha ha, the commissioner's
having lunch with Boris.
Wants me to join
them first, for drinks.
So can you take over, Sandra?
- I'll do my best, sir.
"Boris."
- Pleasantly
short-lived new initiative.
You can't beat a quick
interface, can you?
Hasta la vista.
No problemo.
Hasta la vista. No pro...
- Planning a holiday, Brian?
- Course not.
What the hell would
I do on holiday?
Problemo.
- No joy with
Companies House, then?
- No, not a single record...
On Dean Scott's
business, anyway.
Now, according to this
old Telegraph article,
his Lazy Palms Timeshare Resort
was bought by a Spanish
company three years ago,
so I shall give them a call.
- A list of timeshare
owners would be useful.
See if anybody
had an ax to grind.
Ahem. Oh, hi. Buongiorno!
Um, I...
would like to, uh, parlez with
the boss grande, por favor.
No, no, um...
Ah. Sí. Me from across el agua,
uh, to téléphoner
about Señor Dean Scott.
Fonta-what? ¿Fon... Fontanero?
Oh, hang on, hang on.
Uh, uno momento, por favor.
Fon-, fon-, fon-.
Fontanero.
"Plumber"? No, no, no.
INo fontanero!
No, me policía
from l'Angleterre.
She put me on hold.
I never knew you were bilingual.
Should be just along here.
Under the bridge,
Alice Hill said.
What's an escort
doing with that lot?
We'll soon find out.
♪ Can you feel His spirit? ♪
♪ Can you feel His touch? ♪
♪ Can you open up your heart ♪
♪ and let Him in? ♪
♪ We're God's new army ♪
♪ we are singing songs of love ♪
♪ songs of love from up above
♪ that made a sign ♪
♪ We're God's new army ♪
♪ we are soldiers
armed with love ♪
♪ love is all you need ♪
I could get into this.
- You can't just turn
up for the band, Gerry.
♪ We're God's new army ♪
♪ and we're singing
songs of love ♪
Hi.
- Hi.
- Is that Alice Hill?
- Yeah, that's Alice.
She's wonderful.
We really love her.
How long's she been a volunteer?
About three months,
now, but it feels like
she's been with us forever.
I saw you tapping
your foot just now.
Yeah, this lot really rocks.
- Did you feel it?
- What, the rhythm?
The spirit.
He's brought you
to us, both of you.
Join our army of believers.
Look, thanks for asking, but
we're a bit busy, at the moment.
The spirit is in you both.
Excuse us.
- Alice Hill?
- Yeah.
Det Supt Pullman
from the Unsolved Crime
and Open Case Squad.
Oh, yeah, of course.
Can we go somewhere private?
You were at Dean Scott's until
what time on the night he died?
About 1:00 in the morning.
- Regular client?
- No, it was our first time.
Did he find you
through an agency?
My Web site.
- You got an address for that?
Yeah, um,
Are you still working?
Actually, I've
quit the business.
So...?
It's paid up 'til the
end of the year.
In your original statement,
you said you didn't see
the man's face.
- That's right.
Well, what did you see?
Was he short, tall; black, white?
He was white, and
the only other thing
I remember was
his leather jacket.
It was nice, expensive.
- When did you hear
about Dean Scott's death?
A few days later, on the news.
But you didn't
come forward then.
No. In that line of work, you
learn to keep what you see
to yourself... It's
safer that way.
Look, I've come forward
now. I didn't have to.
I could've just kept quiet.
Why didn't you?
- My conscience wouldn't
let me, not since I found God.
Have you ever
been fingerprinted?
No.
- Then we'll need to take them.
- Why? I haven't
broken any laws.
No, it's so we can
eliminate your prints
from any others found
at the scene of the crime.
- All right.
The site's had over 20,000 hits.
Brian, is it
possible to find out
whether Dean Scott ever
visited this Web page?
It depends how long the
server company keeps records.
I'll check it for you.
- Thank you, and
find out if there's been
any bookings through it lately.
- What, you think
she's still working?
- Don't you?
- I think she's trying
to turn her life around.
- According to this, the deceased
was the face of Lazy Palms
and he had a partner,
a small-time property
developer called Mike Barnes,
so the question is,
how did Dean Scott,
an estate agent
from Bethnal Green,
and this Mike Barnes
character raise enough cash
to build a whacking
great timeshare resort?
Yes, exactly.
Come on, let's go
and see the widow.
Right. She's in
Kilburn, isn't she?
- Ooh, muchas gracias.
- What you got?
- It's the list of
timeshare owners
from way back
when Dean was alive.
I'll run the details
through the PNC,
see if any of them have
got criminal records.
- Great.
- IAdios, amigos!
Mrs. Pamela Scott?
- That's right.
Det Supt Pullman.
- What's happened?
Can we come in?
Thank you.
- Thank you.
We've decided to
reopen the investigation
into your husband's death.
You don't seem
very surprised by this.
Well, deep down, I
never really believed
that Dean killed himself.
We loved each other.
We were a team.
"Pearl & Dean," that's
what they called us.
That was our 10th
wedding anniversary.
We were soulmates.
He was 20 years older than
me. He was still a big kid.
Nice.
Well, it's all gone, now, of
course, the money, the jewels.
- What happened to it?
Six months after Dean died,
his business
partner, Mike Barnes,
offered me the
chance to buy him out...
His share of Lazy Palms for £1.
I thought it was the
most wonderful gesture.
I trusted him...
He was best man
at the wedding...
So I signed the papers.
I found out later that, on
the day of Dean's funeral,
Mike had mortgaged the lot.
Once it was all unraveled,
there were just
debts, not assets.
About 2 million quid's
worth, to be precise.
It completely wiped me out.
So, thanks to Mike's
creative accounting,
I'm stuck here, in
glamorous Kilburn.
What made you decide
to reopen the case?
A new witness came forward.
She said she saw a man
trying to barge into the house
the night that Dean died.
- In the original police
report, it says that
you spent the night
with your mother.
- That's right. She was sick.
I came home the next
morning and I found him.
He didn't leave a note?
No, well, I've always
wondered about that
because it seemed a
bit wrong, somehow.
You said "she." The
witness was a woman?
Yeah.
- Who?
I'm afraid we
can't tell you that.
You can't see the front
door from the street,
so she must've
been in the grounds.
What was she doing there?
Please, I need to know.
The witness was an escort.
She was in the house?
Jack Halford?
- Yes.
- You want to see
me about Dean Scott.
DCI Barney Morris?
- No, it's DS, now.
Oh, what happened?
Decided I didn't want a desk
job, so I got meself demoted.
Listen, can we make this quick?
I need to be back on
the street in half an hour,
or the crackheads will
start wondering where I am.
You're undercover.
- No, I've got this serious
personal hygiene problem.
What do you think?
Listen, before we start,
I just want to say you're
wasting your time with this.
He shot himself.
Forensics proved it.
Well, maybe you
missed something.
You read the case files?
- Yes.
Yeah, well, then, you'll
know we were thorough.
We looked into his finances,
through his personal life,
into his movements
the week before he died.
All we came up with was
rich bloke, loved his wife,
but also never forgot
where he came from.
What do you mean, "never
forgot where he came from"?
Well, he went for a few
drinks in a pub in the East End
- the night before he died.
- The Robert Peel.
That's the one.
- So?
Well, Peeler's is a bit
of a dump, you know,
but it's two streets away
from where he was born.
I guess he wanted one
look at the old manor
before he topped himself.
Trust me, it's a wild
goose chase, this.
There's nothing there.
You never found
out about the escort.
What escort?
The one that was at Dean
Scott's house the night he died.
You know what really hacks
me off about all this, eh?
You two twirlies, sitting
behind your desks,
with nothing better to do
than trawl through old cases.
Why don't you just go off
and play golf, or something,
leave the police work to me?
- We might, if we weren't too
busy, cleaning up your mess.
Are we done?
We're done.
- What are you doing here?
You used to be
Detective Chief Super.
Where's your self-respect?
That went well.
I thought so.
One particularly dark night,
I went through the album,
cutting Mike Barnes
from our lives.
Does Barnes still
live in Lanzarote?
No, he's back in London.
He runs one of those
"Property Millionaire" seminars.
Here.
Did your husband and
Mike Barnes ever fall out?
- I'm not sure. He
never mentioned it.
No enemies?
Well, he had his fair share.
It didn't help that the papers
were always on about him
being a dodgy timeshare baron.
Did you get
threatening phone calls
or people coming to the house?
- No.
Other than the
man that killed him.
They've run out of soap again!
How hard can it be to
keep a dispenser topped up?
You're not letting what Serpico
said bother you, are you?
What? No, no, no, no. I've just
had the garage on the phone.
Bloody car's failed its MOT.
It was driving
perfectly well yesterday!
It's not even all that old.
- Did they say when
you'll get it back?
- Oh, no! They're going
to send away for parts.
It'll be days.
That's me, on the
public transport.
Good job you've got
your bus pass, then.
No, thank you very much.
Last time I was on a bus, some
woman offered me her seat.
Hmm, that was
nice. Very respectful.
Who needs that kind of respect?
And when I turned her
down, she pointed to the sign
saying give it up to the elderly
and then called me
a miserable old git!
Yes! Adrian Osler.
Timeshare owner with
previous. He shoots, he scores!
Ha-ha, ha-ha!
I've checked that
list against the PNC.
Okay, so what have you found?
- I did have one match.
- Halford.
A disgruntled timeshare owner
who was held in
contempt of court
and issued a
caution for assault.
Hardly Britain's Most Wanted.
Well, the contempt arose
during a case against Dean Scott.
Adrian Osler sued him
for emotional distress,
then became abusive when
he lost and punched his solicitor.
Good, sounds promising.
Follow it up, will you?
Thanks for your help.
That was ballistics.
And?
- The blood splatter
patterns indicate that Dean
was fairly low to the ground
when the trigger was pulled.
What, he was kneeling
when he shot himself?
- Or he was on his
knees, begging for his life.
Maybe Mike Barnes needed
to borrow a couple of million
against the timeshare resort,
but Dean refused,
so he killed him.
The original inquiry
checked with immigration.
Barnes wasn't in the country
on the night in question.
Yeah, but he could've
slipped in under the radar.
If you're going to bump
someone off, that's the smart plan.
He's holding a "How to Be a
Property Millionaire" seminar
tomorrow; I want you and
Gerry there undercover.
Yeah, I've always wanted to hear
what those property
gurus have got to say.
Mr. Osler?
Yeah?
We're from the Met. We need
to talk to you about Dean Scott.
I've got nothing
to say about him.
But you did, in court.
You said... and I quote...
"He ruined my life."
Well, he did, but what
does it matter now?
He shot himself and my
life's still crap... end of story.
So tell us why you
hated him so much.
Well, let me see. Oh, yeah.
My wife divorced me, I lost
me job, then I went bankrupt.
Yeah, but it
wasn't all his fault.
- Wasn't it? Listen,
we bought one
of his crappy timeshare
villas on our honeymoon,
which is ironic,
because, six years later,
my lovely wife was by the pool,
tits out, when Juan the waiter
turned up with a piña colada
and ended our marriage.
What, she ran off with Juan?
- Yeah. Then took
me to the cleaners.
She got the house, the car,
the savings. Guess what I got.
Timeshare villa?
Bingo. But, by then, no
one was interested in them,
so I couldn't get
a decent price.
Then, when I defaulted
on the ripoff service charge,
the Lord of Lanzagrotty
kindly sent the bailiffs round,
which was just what I needed,
and that's when
I went a bit la-la.
Got me P45 and
ended up bankrupt.
So do me a favor: don't tell me
it wasn't his fault,
when I know that it was!
So you took Dean to court?
It was either
that, or kill meself.
But you lost the case and,
a year later, he was dead.
Every cloud has a silver lining.
Half of me wonders whether
DS Morris wasn't right.
Maybe I should retire properly.
I think I'd fail my MOT, Mary...
too many emissions.
Of course, the other half of
me wants to show the cocky sod
what a lifetime of
experience gives you,
apart from a bad
back and Alzheimer's.
Maybe I could make
last orders, if I hurry.
What can I get you?
Oh, uh, I'll have a doner kebab.
Quiet night.
Every night is quiet,
since the pub closed down.
Tell me, have you
ever seen this man?
He looks kind of familiar.
- It would be, what?
Ooh, five years ago.
He's the bloke, he
come in one night,
he buy kebabs for
everybody in the pub,
maybe 50 of them,
to celebrate when...
West Ham, they
beat Sheffield United,
and then he gets into a fight
with somebody outside the pub.
When was that?
- Must be... late 2004?
- Was he a regular?
- No, no, he only
come in that one time.
- Ah, he must've made
quite an impression.
It was a big night. Do you
want some chili sauce with this?
Oh, yes, I think so, yes.
Oh!
Brian! Look, hide that
thing, before anyone sees it.
I wish you'd get
a mountain bike,
summat with a bit
more street cred.
- Gerry, there are no mountains
in London, so far as I know.
Just get rid of it!
So what's your name?
- Ron Evans. Yours?
Arthur Miller.
- What?!
You know, like the writer.
- Yeah, I know who
Arthur Miller was.
Excuse me, please.
- I just don't think it's a good
idea for you to use the name.
Well, I can't change now.
It's an integral
part of my persona.
Bicycle clip.
Well, good afternoon,
ladies and gentlemen.
Good afternoon.
Now is the time to buy.
And do not let anybody
tell you otherwise.
Do you know why?
Well, I'll tell you why.
Because it is cheap.
Honestly, it is
bargain city out there,
for anybody who's got
the balls to actually go for it.
Do you want to be successful?
- Yes.
Oh, come on. I'll ask you again.
Do you want to be successful?!
Yes!
- Good! Do you want to be a
property millionaire, like me?
Yes!
- Of course you do, and
doesn't that sound great?
Becoming a property millionaire.
That is the name of the game.
And do you know
what the trick is?
The trick is very, very simple.
It's knowing what to
buy, where to buy it,
and how to borrow the money.
That's crucial, how
to borrow the money,
and that is what I'm
going to be teaching you,
using my solid-gold
secrets to becoming...
a property millionaire.
Whoo!
You know, there might
be something in this.
I could do with a way of
earning some extra cash.
- Nah, his figures
are way too optimistic.
- Anyone ever tell you,
Brian, you're a killjoy,
- do you know that?
- Yeah.
Ah! Mike, may I?
- Sure.
- Listen, you really inspired
me, up there. Great stuff!
- Aw, thanks, thanks
very much... Ron,
that's really kind of you;
it makes it all worthwhile.
Hi! Arthur Miller.
Well, not the Arthur Miller,
of course, the other one.
We're partners.
- Business partners.
Right, so, well,
tell me, Arthur,
how big's your portfolio?
Oh, virtually nonexistent.
I'm the number cruncher.
- Oh, well, there you go,
you're the brains of the outfit.
- He thinks he is.
Look, I am right, aren't I?
You were big in timeshare
in the '80s, weren't you?
Yeah, that's right.
Well, I dabbled, yeah.
I bet you wrote the
book on how to sell 'em.
- Yeah, I did, as it happens.
God, I tell you what...
I remember we used
to get the punters
in on the promise
of some free radio
or a voucher for some dodgy
chicken-and-sangria shack.
And, of course, in those days,
it was all families, you know,
so you'd say to the
dad, if he smoked,
"Listen, mate, for the
price of a pack of fags,
you could buy yourself
and your family a
small slice of paradise."
And do you know what?
It works, because you're
selling them their dreams.
Every time, you can't go wrong.
- Brilliant, brilliant!
I'll tell you who was a
hero of mine, though...
The Lord of Lanzagrotty.
What was he like?
What, Dean Scott?
- Yeah. A legend!
- Yeah. Yeah, he was.
He was a great man.
In fact, I miss him dearly.
Anyway, listen,
it's been really nice,
reminiscing with you fellas,
but I really ought to shoot.
I'd better go and talk
to some of the others,
otherwise, they'll think I'm
ignoring them. See you later.
Eh!
- The hair?
Could hardly miss it.
- Yeah, he dyes his hair.
- And his eyebrows.
Very badly.
- He's a bottle blond
with something to hide.
It might just be vanity.
No, there's more
to it than that.
What does he want?
Yo!
I've had a look at the
postmortem files, Jack.
Obviously, because he was
cremated, all I've had to go on
is the pathology report and
the photographic evidence,
but that's cool, I can be pretty
lateral, when I need to be.
What did you find?!
The gunshot to the head
will have masked any bruising
he may have sustained
around the face,
but check out those
marks on his knuckles.
It looks like your boy
was in a punchup, after all.
Kudos, Jack.
- Why wasn't this
mentioned in the report?
Probably because they
weren't contemporaneous.
- How soon before his
death did the fight take place?
No more than a couple of days.
- Right. Anything
else to tell us?
- Yeah, I've just bought a
new Porsche and it's a monster.
About the case!
No.
Bye, Steve.
- Laters, brethren.
Much later, hopefully.
A witness saw Dean get
into a punchup outside
The Robert Peel when West
Ham played Sheffield United
and that match was played
on the 11th of September.
The day before he died.
Who's the himbo?
Ah, shall we?
Alice, are you in?
I hope you're
getting paid overtime.
I could say the same to you.
God's work is never done.
- Neither is police work.
Alice, your fingerprints
didn't match any
that came away from
the scene of the crime.
I was wearing gloves.
Ah, I'd forgotten
that. Long velvet ones.
I've still got them, if
you want to take a look.
No, no, no.
Did Dean mention anything
about having a fight?
No.
- I know that men open
up in these situations.
The intimacy of strangers.
Yeah. Did you discuss anything?
Other than the price?
Yeah, other than the price.
Uh...
yeah, but it was just
small talk, the usual.
Why did you get into that world?
I needed the money
and I liked sex.
Still do, as it happens.
I thought it would be okay.
But it wasn't?
- No, you lose something.
And no matter what you tell
yourself, you can't get it back.
Oh, so you haven't
lived here long?
- No.
- Looks nice.
- Yeah.
Well, thanks for
walking me home.
- Pleasure.
Night-night.
- Bye.
We ran a license-plate
check on the BMW.
It's registered to a 26-year-
old called Callum Jones.
- They had dinner
together, then went back
to Mike Barnes's house.
So they're gay.
What does that prove?
- Correction: the neighbors
say Callum Jones is his son.
You mean stepson.
- Apparently not.
So one of them's
changed his name.
Oops, sorry folks,
you're a little bit early.
If you just want to
wait in the other room,
then the seminar won't be long.
We're not here for the
seminar. Det Supt Pullman.
Right. H-How can I help?
We'd like to talk to you
about your son, Callum.
Is he all right?
- So he is your boy, then?
Then your real
name must be Jones.
No. No, it's Barnes.
Mike Barnes.
- Oh, can you explain to me
why you and your son
have different surnames?
Yeah, it's because paternity is
a complicated business, love,
and just because I
raised him as my own,
it doesn't necessarily
mean that he actually is.
Have you ever been in
trouble with the police?
No. No, I haven't.
Then you won't mind
coming back to the station,
so we can run that through
the system, just to be sure.
Okay.
Oh!
Oh!
Ahh!
Are you all right?
Yeah, fine.
Good.
Right, boys, tell me
everything you know
about the Dover Street
robbery. Dover Street?
- Yeah.
- Ooh, very tasty.
November 1985.
Brilliantly executed
job, from start to finish.
Big one, too.
- They got away with £7
million in gold bullion by
digging their way into the
bank from the laundry next door.
And no one heard a thing.
- Because of the tumble dryers?
No, fireworks... It
was Bonfire Night.
So who were the suspects?
- Well, there was
Handsome Johnny Tevis.
I mean, everyone knows that
he cut his teeth on that
blag, but there was never
enough evidence to
make anything stick.
"Teflon Tevis."
No change, there.
Yeah, the only one
caught was Frank Powell,
when he tried selling his share
of the stash a few months later.
He did 10 years, but
kept his mouth shut.
And then, of course, there
was the Vanishing Man.
Mmm, Trevor Jones.
- Cor, right piece
of work, he was.
What?
It's not.
- Oh, yes, it is.
Mike Barnes is Trevor Jones.
You're kidding!
- I thought he was dead.
Under lock and key in our nick.
Or banged up in South
America, or something.
It makes you glad to
have lived this long.
They never recovered
that gold, you know.
Well, 7 million
reasons, right there,
to change your name.
Back when I was a DS,
there was this career criminal
called Trevor Jones.
He was a bit special
and everyone knew it.
Then, suddenly, in the
winter of 1985, he vanished.
His passport expired two
years later and was not renewed
and he's never been seen, since.
- Well, it sounds like he died.
No, he was reborn,
as Mike Barnes.
That plastic surgeon
did a really good job.
Your own mother
wouldn't recognize you.
You look 10 years younger.
You couldn't give me
his name, could you?
It's all very funny, but
it's also a big mistake.
- We believe that,
on November 5, 1985,
you were involved in the
Dover Street bank robbery.
Well, let me tell
you... I wasn't and,
as I've already told you,
I'm not who you think I am.
The fingerprint database
doesn't lie, Mr. Jones.
- You were all so
careful in that bank:
no evidence, no prints, nothing.
It was almost perfect.
- Almost.
But how frustrating
it must have been,
to have to wear
gloves all the time.
- Too frustrating,
so you took one off,
just so you could
hold some of that gold,
feel it in the palm
of your hand.
- Unfortunately, when
you came to split the haul,
Frank Powell got that bar.
- With your prints all over it.
- And then he tried to sell
it and got himself arrested.
You must've gone
over that moment
so many times in
the last 24 years.
One set of prints on
one lousy gold bar,
hanging over you, haunting you.
- You should never
have come home, Trevor.
I just wanted to be near my boy.
Tell us about your
relationship with Dean Scott.
No comment.
Trevor, we've got
you on the gold.
We know you built the
timeshare to launder it
and got Dean to front it so
you could reinvent yourself.
It's time to start cooperating.
He's right. It'll look good.
- All right, okay, okay.
All right, he was
my business partner.
Did you kill him?
- No, of course I bloody didn't.
I was in Lanzarote when he died.
- Can you prove that?
Yes, I can. If you
check the records
at the Monteros
Hospital, you will discover
that I was in there,
having a hernia operation,
and sodding painful it was, too.
What about Frank
Powell, or Johnny Tevis?
- I dunno. What's the question...
Did one of them shoot him?
- Yes.
- I've no idea!
Was Dean in on the robbery?
- Oh, for god's sake.
Dean wasn't a criminal!
He was an estate agent!
There's a difference?
- You've had a good run
for your money, Trevor,
but it's over and
we all know it.
Well, now you know.
He's been charged with
Dover Street. No bail.
Yes!
- Excellent!
- And this report concludes
that the robbery
was a 3-man job.
Any less, and they
couldn't have shifted
that amount of gold
in the time allotted;
any more, and there
wouldn't have been
enough room in
the vault for them.
So that's Frank Powell, Mike
Barnes aka Trevor Jones,
and, in all likelihood,
Johnny Tevis.
- And Dean was
just the laundryman?
- Well, they were pros.
They wouldn't take a
civilian on a job like that.
- Oh! Haven't we
got any fresh milk?
No, we haven't.
- Well, didn't you get some more?
Well, have it black.
It won't kill you.
According to the
Probation Service,
Frank Powell was released
from prison August 15, 2004.
- Well, that's a month
before Dean died.
- Yeah. Now, he runs a
snooker club in Whitechapel.
- Off we go, then.
No, I'll tell you what,
guv, I think, uh...
I think I'll be
better on me own.
Hi, uh,
tell Frank Powell
that Gerry Standing
wants a word, will you?
Well, go on then!
Do I know you?
No.
But I know you.
You put my old man inside.
He'd want me to give you this.
- Hold on, hold on.
Come on! What you
gonna do now, eh?
Come on, then! Come on!
Eh! What you gonna
do now, eh? Come on!
What you gonna do?
What you gonna do now?
Come on.
Drop the knife, get lost,
and don't come back.
Yeah, cheers.
- It's been a while, Gerry.
Yeah. You got a
license for that?
Course I have.
But not for that.
Ha. Who was that?
I cannot tell you.
Can't, or won't?
I'm sorry it happened
in my place, Gerry,
but I won't grass him up.
Looks like we've got
a little problem, then.
So?
- How well did you
know Dean Scott?
Dean? So that's why you're here.
We kicked around a
bit when we was kids.
So you were mates?
- Back then.
What about Trevor Jones?
Was he part of your gang?
When you were kids.
Yeah, he was our little mascot.
Now, when you got released,
did you go and have
a drink with Dean,
for old times' sake?
No.
Because timing's
a funny thing, innit?
You see, you get
out, he gets killed.
Dean shot hisself.
Wait a minute. You
think he was murdered.
24 hours before he died,
Dean had a fight
outside The Peeler's.
Was that with you?
No.
Well, who then?
Or shall we have a
look for the license
for that shooter?
He had a bit of a
barney with Johnny Tevis.
What about?
- I dunno. Johnny never told me.
Where can I find him?
Last I heard, he was
down the South Coast.
That was a while ago. I
doubt he'd be there now.
The server company
only keep records
going back three years,
so we can't check if Dean
visited Alice Hill's Web site.
Any sign she's still
getting work through it?
No. Closed her contact
number down three months ago
and the email's on bounce-back.
Morning, all.
Morning!
I went to see Frank Powell!
- Oh, yeah?
Yeah. He reckons the fight
outside the pub was with Tevis,
but he doesn't know
what it was about.
It's time we
talked to Mr. Tevis.
You could have a problem, there.
Nobody's seen him
for at least six months.
Even my informants
don't know where he is.
Now, given the fact
he is a bit of a nomad,
he just seems to have
vanished into thin air.
- I don't like the sound
of that. Keep trying, Gerry.
Right, I'm off to see Pamela.
Maybe she can enlighten us.
See you later, boys.
- Ta-ta.
They took 150 12.5-kilo
bars of gold bullion.
That means 50 bars each.
Frank got nicked, Trevor
built his timeshare resort,
so what did Johnny
Tevis do with his share?
Well, there's only
three possibilities:
he sold it, stashed
it, or spent it slowly.
- The longer you
wait, the easier it is.
I wonder if he's been nicked.
What, Teflon Tevis?
We'd have heard.
There'd have been a party,
with drinks, maybe even nibbles.
Oh, yeah, those little
chicken satay sticks.
Oh, do you like them? Ew!
- I love them.
No, they're horrible, those.
- What, in the peanut sauce?
Yes! No, I like those
little vol-au-vents best.
- Those are
half-baked pies, them.
Oi! Have a butcher's at this.
He's in witness protection.
Oh!
Christ! Pamela! Are you hurt?
- No.
- Who did this?
- I don't want to talk about it.
- Pamela, is someone
trying to stop you
from cooperating with us?
We've arrested Mike Barnes.
- For what?
- For his part in the
Dover Street robbery.
You've heard of it.
Yeah.
Did you know he was involved?
- Was Dean?
- We don't think so, no.
Mike Barnes's real
name is Trevor Jones.
After the robbery,
he built the timeshare resort
to launder the proceeds.
Is that why Dean was killed?
It's possible.
Do you know a man
called Johnny Tevis?
Yes, he came to
visit us a few times
in Lanzarote; he
was a friend of Mike's.
Dean got into a fight with him
the night before he
died... Any idea why?
No. No, he never mentioned it.
Do you think Johnny
Tevis killed Dean?
Do you?
- I don't know.
Tell me who
smashed the place up.
I can't.
- We can protect you.
Good morning. Det Supt Pullman.
I just want to talk to
you about that guy...
Yeah.
UCOS. We're here
to see your boy.
- ID.
Cheers. You all right?
- Assume the position, gents.
- Oh.
Oi, oi! Careful, down there.
- Okay.
I never thought
I'd be so pleased
to see a couple
of old-school filth.
That's it, fellas, come in,
make yourselves at home.
Starved of entertainment,
are you, Johnny?
- Ah, bored to
tears. Want a drink?
No, thanks.
- Yeah, I will, cheers.
You know, the
last time I saw you,
you were driving a lovely old
Roller down the Mile End Road.
Oh, yes.
Still got that Stag?
Yeah! Cheers.
We'd like to ask you
about Dean Scott.
- Okay, fire away.
- How well did you know him?
Well, he was a
friend of a friend.
We talked if we
bumped into each other,
but we weren't close.
- So what did you two fight
about the night before he died?
It was nothing. We
were both pissed,
at the time, you
know, messing around.
Let's call it an excess
of testosterone.
- Who won?
Who do you think?
Didn't you used to box?
Yeah, only amateur.
No, you were good.
Good quick jab, right hook.
- So what made you stop?
I didn't want to
mess up the boat.
- Is that why you picked
a fight with a bloke
who was smaller than
you and 20 years older?
Yeah, Dean started it.
Why?
He had a short fuse,
especially after a few pints.
Come on, it must've
been about something.
What was it, money, reputation?
Reputation? Don't make me laugh.
He didn't have a reputation
to get arsey about.
Whose local was The Robert Peel?
Well, back then, it was mine.
So, he came looking for you.
- What'd you do to him, Johnny?
It must've been pretty bad,
for him to come and dig
out a hard man like you.
- Handsome Johnny Tevis?
It was because of a woman.
How long had you been
sleeping with Pamela
when he found out?
Not my type.
I liked 'em stacked and blonde.
So you weren't having an affair?
No.
- You know, I think
I've changed my mind.
I think I'll have
that drink, after all.
Help yourself.
Thank you.
You know, we've
nicked Mike Barnes,
aka Trevor Jones,
for Dover Street.
I hadn't heard.
Two down, one to go.
- Ooh! Good luck.
Mmm, very nice.
Good vintage, is it?
Latour '82. It's
one of the greats.
So where's the rest
of the gold, Johnny,
I mean, apart from
what's in your mouth?
- Dover Street had
nothing to do with me.
Come on, Johnny, everyone
knows you were the getaway driver.
Yeah? Well, everyone's wrong.
- I reckon you've got 50 bars
stashed away somewhere.
Yeah, I wish.
The price of gold
today, eh, gentlemen?
Gone right through the roof.
50 gold bars,
worth an absolute
bloody fortune.
Millions.
How big a body
builder is the bastard?
Say, on a scale of 1 to 10.
Mr. Sergeyev?
Det Supt Pullman.
I'd like to talk to you
about Pamela Scott.
May we come in?
Ahh! Oh!
Ah! Oh.
Ohh!
- Oh.
There's nothing
here, Brian. Come on.
Hang on, what's this?
Oh. Good news is it
looks like his loan book.
Bad news is it's in Russian.
- All we're asking is that
you exert some pressure
so that we can bring Johnny
Tevis in for questioning.
- He's their star witness
in a case against
the McKenzie family.
We're talking major
organized crime.
You'll need more than
circumstantial evidence
to prise him away.
- We think he was banging
the dead man's wife.
- Well, then you get
some actual evidence!
Until then, the answer's no!
How sure are you?
- I'd stake my reputation on it.
- Theory!
Dean Scott finds
out that Johnny Tevis
is sleeping with
his wife, Pamela,
so he goes to The
Peeler's, they have a fight,
Dean Scott loses,
and he goes home.
Pamela's not there, so
he just sits there, brooding,
until she comes
back from her mum's
and he threatens her,
so she phones Johnny,
who comes over, shoots him,
and then they make
it look like suicide.
What about Alice, the escort?
Yeah, well, she didn't
come forward for five years
and, when she did, her
prints weren't at the scene.
You don't think
she was there, then?
Well, my heart wants to
believe her, but my gut says no.
Finally, we're in
agreement about her.
So why did she lie?
Well, that's what
I can't figure out.
Maybe someone wants
Johnny Tevis arrested for murder
so he can't testify
at the McKenzie trial,
so they put Alice up to it.
Hmm.
Velvet gloves.
Nah, sorry, I just don't buy it.
I think the reason your
prints were never found
at Dean's house is because
you were never there
and, if you were never there,
then you couldn't have
witnessed anyone barging in.
Why would I make that up?
Because someone wants
Johnny Tevis not
to be able to testify.
I've no idea what
you're talking about.
Come on, Alice,
Who put you up to it?
Nobody!
You just don't like me, do you?
Why is that? Too
much competition?
I think Dean threatened
you when he found out
about your affair
with Johnny Tevis,
so your lover came
round and killed him.
No. None of that is true.
- We're giving you a
chance, here, Pamela.
If that's what happened, then
you can plead self-defense,
but we need to know now.
I stayed at my mother's.
When I came home, he was dead.
Ah.
You're not being straight
with us and that's a mistake,
given the gravity
of the situation.
If Johnny killed him and
you don't say anything,
that makes you an
accomplice, so who shot Dean?!
What?!
- You both need to see this.
Pamela wasn't the only one
who owed Sergeyev
the loan shark money.
Alice Hill did, too.
No such thing as
a bad coincidence.
And Sibford House
is only a spit away
from Tadmerton House,
where Pamela lives.
They know each other.
- Yeah, and Alice only
moved into her new flat
south of the river
four months ago.
- All in the timing.
Records show that,
until four months ago,
when you "got religion,"
you were living just round
the corner from Pamela Scott.
Whatever you say.
Her neighbors confirm that
you saw a lot of each other.
Well, they're wrong.
- Alice, just admit it.
You're friends. There's
no law against it.
I... I do not know the woman.
Have you really
found God, Alice?
No.
I didn't think so.
The whole thing was
just a great, big con.
Whose idea was it,
yours or Pamela's?
- No comment.
We know about your debts.
This interview is suspended
at 10:51 AM.
What's going on?
- I know what
they've been up to.
Unless you want to continue to
pretend that Dean was murdered
and risk getting done for
it, this has to end right now!
- Okay.
That's the first smart
decision you've made all day.
- Why did Dean shoot himself?
Did he find out about
you and Johnny?
Were you in love with Johnny?
I thought I was.
How did Dean react when
he found out about you two?
Well, at first, he was gutted.
Then he said he'd forgive me,
as long as I agreed to
never see Johnny again.
But you couldn't do that?
- No.
He'd done something
to me. I was infatuated.
I never felt anything
like that before
and the thought of
never seeing him again,
it was just too much to bear,
so I told Dean I
wanted a divorce.
Were you with Johnny
the night Dean died?
Yes.
But, in the morning, I realized
what a fool I'd been,
so I went home to
beg Dean to forgive me,
to take me back,
but I was too late.
He'd left a suicide note.
I hid it, out of shame.
After you came round,
I tried to destroy it,
but I couldn't; it
was too painful.
It's the last thing
he ever gave me.
One, terrible mistake,
all because some flash
sod turned my head.
Did you know about
Dover Street or Dean's role
in the laundering
of the proceeds?
- No, not until she told me.
Life's hard, now Dean's
gone, isn't it, Pamela?
It's bloody hard.
- So how have
you made it easier?
Every year, Dean had made
his life insurance payments.
We were owed. I was owed.
But he'd switched to a
new company, so the policy
was less than 12 months
old when he killed himself
and, because of that,
it was null and void.
They pay out on suicide?
Yes, just as long as it
doesn't happen in the first year.
Two months later,
it would've been fine
for Dean to blow his brains out.
He had his enemies.
I figured you wouldn't
even have to find his killer.
As long as it wasn't
considered a suicide,
then I could make a claim.
So you got Alice Hill
to say she was with him
and saw a man
forcing his way in?
Yeah, well, she needed
the money as much as I did.
I was going to
split it with her.
Well, after Dean died, Johnny
wasn't interested anymore.
That bastard liked the
danger of being caught
more than he actually liked me.
I lost everything because of him
and he couldn't give a toss.
The only thing that man
ever loved was his stupid cars.
I tried to smash them up, once.
I figured it would be the only
way I could really hurt him,
but I couldn't even get in; it
was like Fort bloody Knox.
You couldn't get in where?
His lockup.
Johnny Tevis has never lived
in one place for
more than a year,
but he's had this
since the early '80s.
- Good morning.
- Morning!
Det Supt Pullman.
- That's fine.
- Morning.
- Morning.
One warrant.
- That's fine, thank you.
Did well to keep
this place quiet.
Are you sure about this?
- Well, it's worth a go.
Bugger it!
We ought to get the
lab boys down here,
tear this place apart.
- Come on, I'll buy you a pint.
Oh! Hang on, you've got
whitewash all over your coat.
Hang on a minute.
These bricks are very small.
Ah, you can't stay away
from me, can you, Jack?
I've been to your lockup.
Nice brickwork.
I'm of the opinion that
it's not in anyone's interest
to push the CPS to charge
either Pamela or Alice.
- Well, they intended to
defraud the insurance company
and they wasted police time.
- Yeah, but Pamela's
already lost everything, sir.
She's had it pretty tough.
- The time wasn't
entirely wasted.
We got some of the gold
back and caught Trevor Jones.
You might even get
a pop at Johnny Tevis,
once he's given evidence.
I'm afraid Johnny
Tevis is off-limits.
Dover Street's been
incorporated into his deal.
Well, at least,
you hit him where
it hurts, Jack.
That lockup was his pension.
Oh, perhaps you're
right about Pamela Scott.
You know, there's still
a reward on the gold.
- No. No, I didn't, sir.
Well, maybe someone
should claim it.
Good idea, sir.
Well, well done, everyone.
Enjoy the weekend.
You too.
Oh, I'm off to an
APCO strategy summit.
Have fun, sir.
- So, who's going to tell
Pamela about the reward?
I will.
I suppose one of us claiming
it would be out of the question?
- Completely.
And it's against Met rules,
as you well know, Gerry.
Yeah, but, technically,
those rules only apply to you.
I mean, we're civilians.
Could be a good few bob in it.
That'd be a no, then.
♪ It's alright, it's okay ♪
♪ doesn't really matter
if you're old and gray ♪
♪ It's alright, I
say, it's okay ♪
♪ listen to what I say ♪
♪ It's alright, doin' fine ♪
♪ doesn't really matter
if the sun don't shine ♪
♪ It's alright, I
say, it's okay ♪
♪ we're gettin' to the
end of the day ♪ ♪
Subtitling made
possible by Acorn Media
---
Morning, Andy.
- Morning, Mr. Halford.
- Call me on the
mobile when it's done.
Oh, so you know how
to use a mobile now?
Just do the MOT.
No disrespect, Mr. Halford.
Sorry, mate, I had
to bring them with me.
- Strickland wants us
to meet him at Mill Hill.
- And this is the only mode
of transport between us?
- Yeah, I got clamped.
Somebody nicked the
front wheel off me bike.
- I'm riding shotgun.
Come on, we're late!
It's actually not
too bad back here.
Just keep wiggling your toes.
- Why?
So you don't get DVT.
- Eh?
Deep-vein thrombosis.
♪ It's alright, it's okay ♪
♪ doesn't really matter
if you're old and gray ♪
♪ It's alright, I
say, it's okay ♪
♪ listen to what I say ♪
♪ It's alright, doin' fine ♪
♪ doesn't really matter
if the sun don't shine ♪
♪ It's alright, I
say, it's okay ♪
♪ we're gettin' to the
end of the day ♪ ♪
Subtitling made
possible by Acorn Media
Sorry to keep you,
sir. Car trouble.
And bike trouble.
- You're probably all
wondering what I'm doing here.
It had occurred to us.
- I've been asked to
pilot a new scheme
which aims to
ensure senior ranks
interface more regularly
with what's happening
further down the
chain of command.
Slumming it, you mean.
I prefer to see
it as maintaining
a ground-up
approach to policing.
Shall we get started?
Five years ago,
Dean Scott was found
dead right where I'm standing.
He'd apparently shot
himself with his own gun.
At the time, it was
recorded as suicide.
Dean Scott, as some
of you may remember,
made his fortune
in the late '80s
from a huge timeshare resort.
Oh, the Lord of Lanzagrotty.
Indeed.
Last week, an
escort called Alice Hill
came forward to say that
she'd witnessed somebody
forcing their way into the
house shortly before he died,
so I want you to
reopen the case.
Was he as dodgy as he sounds?
No. No criminal record.
But I think the "Death of
a Timeshare Salesman"
should be dealt with as
thoroughly as any other.
Don't you agree?
Right, follow me.
"Death of a Timeshare Salesman"?
I bet he's been
practicing that all morning.
Now, according to
Alice Hill's statement,
"I was round at Dean's house.
When I was leaving,
I grabbed my things
and slipped out the back so
the neighbors wouldn't see me,
walked off down the drive,
heard this metal, banging noise,
turned around
and there was this bloke
really pounding on the front door.
Dean answered it. They
started kicking off, big-time.
Then the bloke pushed
his way in and I legged it."
Ha ha, the commissioner's
having lunch with Boris.
Wants me to join
them first, for drinks.
So can you take over, Sandra?
- I'll do my best, sir.
"Boris."
- Pleasantly
short-lived new initiative.
You can't beat a quick
interface, can you?
Hasta la vista.
No problemo.
Hasta la vista. No pro...
- Planning a holiday, Brian?
- Course not.
What the hell would
I do on holiday?
Problemo.
- No joy with
Companies House, then?
- No, not a single record...
On Dean Scott's
business, anyway.
Now, according to this
old Telegraph article,
his Lazy Palms Timeshare Resort
was bought by a Spanish
company three years ago,
so I shall give them a call.
- A list of timeshare
owners would be useful.
See if anybody
had an ax to grind.
Ahem. Oh, hi. Buongiorno!
Um, I...
would like to, uh, parlez with
the boss grande, por favor.
No, no, um...
Ah. Sí. Me from across el agua,
uh, to téléphoner
about Señor Dean Scott.
Fonta-what? ¿Fon... Fontanero?
Oh, hang on, hang on.
Uh, uno momento, por favor.
Fon-, fon-, fon-.
Fontanero.
"Plumber"? No, no, no.
INo fontanero!
No, me policía
from l'Angleterre.
She put me on hold.
I never knew you were bilingual.
Should be just along here.
Under the bridge,
Alice Hill said.
What's an escort
doing with that lot?
We'll soon find out.
♪ Can you feel His spirit? ♪
♪ Can you feel His touch? ♪
♪ Can you open up your heart ♪
♪ and let Him in? ♪
♪ We're God's new army ♪
♪ we are singing songs of love ♪
♪ songs of love from up above
♪ that made a sign ♪
♪ We're God's new army ♪
♪ we are soldiers
armed with love ♪
♪ love is all you need ♪
I could get into this.
- You can't just turn
up for the band, Gerry.
♪ We're God's new army ♪
♪ and we're singing
songs of love ♪
Hi.
- Hi.
- Is that Alice Hill?
- Yeah, that's Alice.
She's wonderful.
We really love her.
How long's she been a volunteer?
About three months,
now, but it feels like
she's been with us forever.
I saw you tapping
your foot just now.
Yeah, this lot really rocks.
- Did you feel it?
- What, the rhythm?
The spirit.
He's brought you
to us, both of you.
Join our army of believers.
Look, thanks for asking, but
we're a bit busy, at the moment.
The spirit is in you both.
Excuse us.
- Alice Hill?
- Yeah.
Det Supt Pullman
from the Unsolved Crime
and Open Case Squad.
Oh, yeah, of course.
Can we go somewhere private?
You were at Dean Scott's until
what time on the night he died?
About 1:00 in the morning.
- Regular client?
- No, it was our first time.
Did he find you
through an agency?
My Web site.
- You got an address for that?
Yeah, um,
Are you still working?
Actually, I've
quit the business.
So...?
It's paid up 'til the
end of the year.
In your original statement,
you said you didn't see
the man's face.
- That's right.
Well, what did you see?
Was he short, tall; black, white?
He was white, and
the only other thing
I remember was
his leather jacket.
It was nice, expensive.
- When did you hear
about Dean Scott's death?
A few days later, on the news.
But you didn't
come forward then.
No. In that line of work, you
learn to keep what you see
to yourself... It's
safer that way.
Look, I've come forward
now. I didn't have to.
I could've just kept quiet.
Why didn't you?
- My conscience wouldn't
let me, not since I found God.
Have you ever
been fingerprinted?
No.
- Then we'll need to take them.
- Why? I haven't
broken any laws.
No, it's so we can
eliminate your prints
from any others found
at the scene of the crime.
- All right.
The site's had over 20,000 hits.
Brian, is it
possible to find out
whether Dean Scott ever
visited this Web page?
It depends how long the
server company keeps records.
I'll check it for you.
- Thank you, and
find out if there's been
any bookings through it lately.
- What, you think
she's still working?
- Don't you?
- I think she's trying
to turn her life around.
- According to this, the deceased
was the face of Lazy Palms
and he had a partner,
a small-time property
developer called Mike Barnes,
so the question is,
how did Dean Scott,
an estate agent
from Bethnal Green,
and this Mike Barnes
character raise enough cash
to build a whacking
great timeshare resort?
Yes, exactly.
Come on, let's go
and see the widow.
Right. She's in
Kilburn, isn't she?
- Ooh, muchas gracias.
- What you got?
- It's the list of
timeshare owners
from way back
when Dean was alive.
I'll run the details
through the PNC,
see if any of them have
got criminal records.
- Great.
- IAdios, amigos!
Mrs. Pamela Scott?
- That's right.
Det Supt Pullman.
- What's happened?
Can we come in?
Thank you.
- Thank you.
We've decided to
reopen the investigation
into your husband's death.
You don't seem
very surprised by this.
Well, deep down, I
never really believed
that Dean killed himself.
We loved each other.
We were a team.
"Pearl & Dean," that's
what they called us.
That was our 10th
wedding anniversary.
We were soulmates.
He was 20 years older than
me. He was still a big kid.
Nice.
Well, it's all gone, now, of
course, the money, the jewels.
- What happened to it?
Six months after Dean died,
his business
partner, Mike Barnes,
offered me the
chance to buy him out...
His share of Lazy Palms for £1.
I thought it was the
most wonderful gesture.
I trusted him...
He was best man
at the wedding...
So I signed the papers.
I found out later that, on
the day of Dean's funeral,
Mike had mortgaged the lot.
Once it was all unraveled,
there were just
debts, not assets.
About 2 million quid's
worth, to be precise.
It completely wiped me out.
So, thanks to Mike's
creative accounting,
I'm stuck here, in
glamorous Kilburn.
What made you decide
to reopen the case?
A new witness came forward.
She said she saw a man
trying to barge into the house
the night that Dean died.
- In the original police
report, it says that
you spent the night
with your mother.
- That's right. She was sick.
I came home the next
morning and I found him.
He didn't leave a note?
No, well, I've always
wondered about that
because it seemed a
bit wrong, somehow.
You said "she." The
witness was a woman?
Yeah.
- Who?
I'm afraid we
can't tell you that.
You can't see the front
door from the street,
so she must've
been in the grounds.
What was she doing there?
Please, I need to know.
The witness was an escort.
She was in the house?
Jack Halford?
- Yes.
- You want to see
me about Dean Scott.
DCI Barney Morris?
- No, it's DS, now.
Oh, what happened?
Decided I didn't want a desk
job, so I got meself demoted.
Listen, can we make this quick?
I need to be back on
the street in half an hour,
or the crackheads will
start wondering where I am.
You're undercover.
- No, I've got this serious
personal hygiene problem.
What do you think?
Listen, before we start,
I just want to say you're
wasting your time with this.
He shot himself.
Forensics proved it.
Well, maybe you
missed something.
You read the case files?
- Yes.
Yeah, well, then, you'll
know we were thorough.
We looked into his finances,
through his personal life,
into his movements
the week before he died.
All we came up with was
rich bloke, loved his wife,
but also never forgot
where he came from.
What do you mean, "never
forgot where he came from"?
Well, he went for a few
drinks in a pub in the East End
- the night before he died.
- The Robert Peel.
That's the one.
- So?
Well, Peeler's is a bit
of a dump, you know,
but it's two streets away
from where he was born.
I guess he wanted one
look at the old manor
before he topped himself.
Trust me, it's a wild
goose chase, this.
There's nothing there.
You never found
out about the escort.
What escort?
The one that was at Dean
Scott's house the night he died.
You know what really hacks
me off about all this, eh?
You two twirlies, sitting
behind your desks,
with nothing better to do
than trawl through old cases.
Why don't you just go off
and play golf, or something,
leave the police work to me?
- We might, if we weren't too
busy, cleaning up your mess.
Are we done?
We're done.
- What are you doing here?
You used to be
Detective Chief Super.
Where's your self-respect?
That went well.
I thought so.
One particularly dark night,
I went through the album,
cutting Mike Barnes
from our lives.
Does Barnes still
live in Lanzarote?
No, he's back in London.
He runs one of those
"Property Millionaire" seminars.
Here.
Did your husband and
Mike Barnes ever fall out?
- I'm not sure. He
never mentioned it.
No enemies?
Well, he had his fair share.
It didn't help that the papers
were always on about him
being a dodgy timeshare baron.
Did you get
threatening phone calls
or people coming to the house?
- No.
Other than the
man that killed him.
They've run out of soap again!
How hard can it be to
keep a dispenser topped up?
You're not letting what Serpico
said bother you, are you?
What? No, no, no, no. I've just
had the garage on the phone.
Bloody car's failed its MOT.
It was driving
perfectly well yesterday!
It's not even all that old.
- Did they say when
you'll get it back?
- Oh, no! They're going
to send away for parts.
It'll be days.
That's me, on the
public transport.
Good job you've got
your bus pass, then.
No, thank you very much.
Last time I was on a bus, some
woman offered me her seat.
Hmm, that was
nice. Very respectful.
Who needs that kind of respect?
And when I turned her
down, she pointed to the sign
saying give it up to the elderly
and then called me
a miserable old git!
Yes! Adrian Osler.
Timeshare owner with
previous. He shoots, he scores!
Ha-ha, ha-ha!
I've checked that
list against the PNC.
Okay, so what have you found?
- I did have one match.
- Halford.
A disgruntled timeshare owner
who was held in
contempt of court
and issued a
caution for assault.
Hardly Britain's Most Wanted.
Well, the contempt arose
during a case against Dean Scott.
Adrian Osler sued him
for emotional distress,
then became abusive when
he lost and punched his solicitor.
Good, sounds promising.
Follow it up, will you?
Thanks for your help.
That was ballistics.
And?
- The blood splatter
patterns indicate that Dean
was fairly low to the ground
when the trigger was pulled.
What, he was kneeling
when he shot himself?
- Or he was on his
knees, begging for his life.
Maybe Mike Barnes needed
to borrow a couple of million
against the timeshare resort,
but Dean refused,
so he killed him.
The original inquiry
checked with immigration.
Barnes wasn't in the country
on the night in question.
Yeah, but he could've
slipped in under the radar.
If you're going to bump
someone off, that's the smart plan.
He's holding a "How to Be a
Property Millionaire" seminar
tomorrow; I want you and
Gerry there undercover.
Yeah, I've always wanted to hear
what those property
gurus have got to say.
Mr. Osler?
Yeah?
We're from the Met. We need
to talk to you about Dean Scott.
I've got nothing
to say about him.
But you did, in court.
You said... and I quote...
"He ruined my life."
Well, he did, but what
does it matter now?
He shot himself and my
life's still crap... end of story.
So tell us why you
hated him so much.
Well, let me see. Oh, yeah.
My wife divorced me, I lost
me job, then I went bankrupt.
Yeah, but it
wasn't all his fault.
- Wasn't it? Listen,
we bought one
of his crappy timeshare
villas on our honeymoon,
which is ironic,
because, six years later,
my lovely wife was by the pool,
tits out, when Juan the waiter
turned up with a piña colada
and ended our marriage.
What, she ran off with Juan?
- Yeah. Then took
me to the cleaners.
She got the house, the car,
the savings. Guess what I got.
Timeshare villa?
Bingo. But, by then, no
one was interested in them,
so I couldn't get
a decent price.
Then, when I defaulted
on the ripoff service charge,
the Lord of Lanzagrotty
kindly sent the bailiffs round,
which was just what I needed,
and that's when
I went a bit la-la.
Got me P45 and
ended up bankrupt.
So do me a favor: don't tell me
it wasn't his fault,
when I know that it was!
So you took Dean to court?
It was either
that, or kill meself.
But you lost the case and,
a year later, he was dead.
Every cloud has a silver lining.
Half of me wonders whether
DS Morris wasn't right.
Maybe I should retire properly.
I think I'd fail my MOT, Mary...
too many emissions.
Of course, the other half of
me wants to show the cocky sod
what a lifetime of
experience gives you,
apart from a bad
back and Alzheimer's.
Maybe I could make
last orders, if I hurry.
What can I get you?
Oh, uh, I'll have a doner kebab.
Quiet night.
Every night is quiet,
since the pub closed down.
Tell me, have you
ever seen this man?
He looks kind of familiar.
- It would be, what?
Ooh, five years ago.
He's the bloke, he
come in one night,
he buy kebabs for
everybody in the pub,
maybe 50 of them,
to celebrate when...
West Ham, they
beat Sheffield United,
and then he gets into a fight
with somebody outside the pub.
When was that?
- Must be... late 2004?
- Was he a regular?
- No, no, he only
come in that one time.
- Ah, he must've made
quite an impression.
It was a big night. Do you
want some chili sauce with this?
Oh, yes, I think so, yes.
Oh!
Brian! Look, hide that
thing, before anyone sees it.
I wish you'd get
a mountain bike,
summat with a bit
more street cred.
- Gerry, there are no mountains
in London, so far as I know.
Just get rid of it!
So what's your name?
- Ron Evans. Yours?
Arthur Miller.
- What?!
You know, like the writer.
- Yeah, I know who
Arthur Miller was.
Excuse me, please.
- I just don't think it's a good
idea for you to use the name.
Well, I can't change now.
It's an integral
part of my persona.
Bicycle clip.
Well, good afternoon,
ladies and gentlemen.
Good afternoon.
Now is the time to buy.
And do not let anybody
tell you otherwise.
Do you know why?
Well, I'll tell you why.
Because it is cheap.
Honestly, it is
bargain city out there,
for anybody who's got
the balls to actually go for it.
Do you want to be successful?
- Yes.
Oh, come on. I'll ask you again.
Do you want to be successful?!
Yes!
- Good! Do you want to be a
property millionaire, like me?
Yes!
- Of course you do, and
doesn't that sound great?
Becoming a property millionaire.
That is the name of the game.
And do you know
what the trick is?
The trick is very, very simple.
It's knowing what to
buy, where to buy it,
and how to borrow the money.
That's crucial, how
to borrow the money,
and that is what I'm
going to be teaching you,
using my solid-gold
secrets to becoming...
a property millionaire.
Whoo!
You know, there might
be something in this.
I could do with a way of
earning some extra cash.
- Nah, his figures
are way too optimistic.
- Anyone ever tell you,
Brian, you're a killjoy,
- do you know that?
- Yeah.
Ah! Mike, may I?
- Sure.
- Listen, you really inspired
me, up there. Great stuff!
- Aw, thanks, thanks
very much... Ron,
that's really kind of you;
it makes it all worthwhile.
Hi! Arthur Miller.
Well, not the Arthur Miller,
of course, the other one.
We're partners.
- Business partners.
Right, so, well,
tell me, Arthur,
how big's your portfolio?
Oh, virtually nonexistent.
I'm the number cruncher.
- Oh, well, there you go,
you're the brains of the outfit.
- He thinks he is.
Look, I am right, aren't I?
You were big in timeshare
in the '80s, weren't you?
Yeah, that's right.
Well, I dabbled, yeah.
I bet you wrote the
book on how to sell 'em.
- Yeah, I did, as it happens.
God, I tell you what...
I remember we used
to get the punters
in on the promise
of some free radio
or a voucher for some dodgy
chicken-and-sangria shack.
And, of course, in those days,
it was all families, you know,
so you'd say to the
dad, if he smoked,
"Listen, mate, for the
price of a pack of fags,
you could buy yourself
and your family a
small slice of paradise."
And do you know what?
It works, because you're
selling them their dreams.
Every time, you can't go wrong.
- Brilliant, brilliant!
I'll tell you who was a
hero of mine, though...
The Lord of Lanzagrotty.
What was he like?
What, Dean Scott?
- Yeah. A legend!
- Yeah. Yeah, he was.
He was a great man.
In fact, I miss him dearly.
Anyway, listen,
it's been really nice,
reminiscing with you fellas,
but I really ought to shoot.
I'd better go and talk
to some of the others,
otherwise, they'll think I'm
ignoring them. See you later.
Eh!
- The hair?
Could hardly miss it.
- Yeah, he dyes his hair.
- And his eyebrows.
Very badly.
- He's a bottle blond
with something to hide.
It might just be vanity.
No, there's more
to it than that.
What does he want?
Yo!
I've had a look at the
postmortem files, Jack.
Obviously, because he was
cremated, all I've had to go on
is the pathology report and
the photographic evidence,
but that's cool, I can be pretty
lateral, when I need to be.
What did you find?!
The gunshot to the head
will have masked any bruising
he may have sustained
around the face,
but check out those
marks on his knuckles.
It looks like your boy
was in a punchup, after all.
Kudos, Jack.
- Why wasn't this
mentioned in the report?
Probably because they
weren't contemporaneous.
- How soon before his
death did the fight take place?
No more than a couple of days.
- Right. Anything
else to tell us?
- Yeah, I've just bought a
new Porsche and it's a monster.
About the case!
No.
Bye, Steve.
- Laters, brethren.
Much later, hopefully.
A witness saw Dean get
into a punchup outside
The Robert Peel when West
Ham played Sheffield United
and that match was played
on the 11th of September.
The day before he died.
Who's the himbo?
Ah, shall we?
Alice, are you in?
I hope you're
getting paid overtime.
I could say the same to you.
God's work is never done.
- Neither is police work.
Alice, your fingerprints
didn't match any
that came away from
the scene of the crime.
I was wearing gloves.
Ah, I'd forgotten
that. Long velvet ones.
I've still got them, if
you want to take a look.
No, no, no.
Did Dean mention anything
about having a fight?
No.
- I know that men open
up in these situations.
The intimacy of strangers.
Yeah. Did you discuss anything?
Other than the price?
Yeah, other than the price.
Uh...
yeah, but it was just
small talk, the usual.
Why did you get into that world?
I needed the money
and I liked sex.
Still do, as it happens.
I thought it would be okay.
But it wasn't?
- No, you lose something.
And no matter what you tell
yourself, you can't get it back.
Oh, so you haven't
lived here long?
- No.
- Looks nice.
- Yeah.
Well, thanks for
walking me home.
- Pleasure.
Night-night.
- Bye.
We ran a license-plate
check on the BMW.
It's registered to a 26-year-
old called Callum Jones.
- They had dinner
together, then went back
to Mike Barnes's house.
So they're gay.
What does that prove?
- Correction: the neighbors
say Callum Jones is his son.
You mean stepson.
- Apparently not.
So one of them's
changed his name.
Oops, sorry folks,
you're a little bit early.
If you just want to
wait in the other room,
then the seminar won't be long.
We're not here for the
seminar. Det Supt Pullman.
Right. H-How can I help?
We'd like to talk to you
about your son, Callum.
Is he all right?
- So he is your boy, then?
Then your real
name must be Jones.
No. No, it's Barnes.
Mike Barnes.
- Oh, can you explain to me
why you and your son
have different surnames?
Yeah, it's because paternity is
a complicated business, love,
and just because I
raised him as my own,
it doesn't necessarily
mean that he actually is.
Have you ever been in
trouble with the police?
No. No, I haven't.
Then you won't mind
coming back to the station,
so we can run that through
the system, just to be sure.
Okay.
Oh!
Oh!
Ahh!
Are you all right?
Yeah, fine.
Good.
Right, boys, tell me
everything you know
about the Dover Street
robbery. Dover Street?
- Yeah.
- Ooh, very tasty.
November 1985.
Brilliantly executed
job, from start to finish.
Big one, too.
- They got away with £7
million in gold bullion by
digging their way into the
bank from the laundry next door.
And no one heard a thing.
- Because of the tumble dryers?
No, fireworks... It
was Bonfire Night.
So who were the suspects?
- Well, there was
Handsome Johnny Tevis.
I mean, everyone knows that
he cut his teeth on that
blag, but there was never
enough evidence to
make anything stick.
"Teflon Tevis."
No change, there.
Yeah, the only one
caught was Frank Powell,
when he tried selling his share
of the stash a few months later.
He did 10 years, but
kept his mouth shut.
And then, of course, there
was the Vanishing Man.
Mmm, Trevor Jones.
- Cor, right piece
of work, he was.
What?
It's not.
- Oh, yes, it is.
Mike Barnes is Trevor Jones.
You're kidding!
- I thought he was dead.
Under lock and key in our nick.
Or banged up in South
America, or something.
It makes you glad to
have lived this long.
They never recovered
that gold, you know.
Well, 7 million
reasons, right there,
to change your name.
Back when I was a DS,
there was this career criminal
called Trevor Jones.
He was a bit special
and everyone knew it.
Then, suddenly, in the
winter of 1985, he vanished.
His passport expired two
years later and was not renewed
and he's never been seen, since.
- Well, it sounds like he died.
No, he was reborn,
as Mike Barnes.
That plastic surgeon
did a really good job.
Your own mother
wouldn't recognize you.
You look 10 years younger.
You couldn't give me
his name, could you?
It's all very funny, but
it's also a big mistake.
- We believe that,
on November 5, 1985,
you were involved in the
Dover Street bank robbery.
Well, let me tell
you... I wasn't and,
as I've already told you,
I'm not who you think I am.
The fingerprint database
doesn't lie, Mr. Jones.
- You were all so
careful in that bank:
no evidence, no prints, nothing.
It was almost perfect.
- Almost.
But how frustrating
it must have been,
to have to wear
gloves all the time.
- Too frustrating,
so you took one off,
just so you could
hold some of that gold,
feel it in the palm
of your hand.
- Unfortunately, when
you came to split the haul,
Frank Powell got that bar.
- With your prints all over it.
- And then he tried to sell
it and got himself arrested.
You must've gone
over that moment
so many times in
the last 24 years.
One set of prints on
one lousy gold bar,
hanging over you, haunting you.
- You should never
have come home, Trevor.
I just wanted to be near my boy.
Tell us about your
relationship with Dean Scott.
No comment.
Trevor, we've got
you on the gold.
We know you built the
timeshare to launder it
and got Dean to front it so
you could reinvent yourself.
It's time to start cooperating.
He's right. It'll look good.
- All right, okay, okay.
All right, he was
my business partner.
Did you kill him?
- No, of course I bloody didn't.
I was in Lanzarote when he died.
- Can you prove that?
Yes, I can. If you
check the records
at the Monteros
Hospital, you will discover
that I was in there,
having a hernia operation,
and sodding painful it was, too.
What about Frank
Powell, or Johnny Tevis?
- I dunno. What's the question...
Did one of them shoot him?
- Yes.
- I've no idea!
Was Dean in on the robbery?
- Oh, for god's sake.
Dean wasn't a criminal!
He was an estate agent!
There's a difference?
- You've had a good run
for your money, Trevor,
but it's over and
we all know it.
Well, now you know.
He's been charged with
Dover Street. No bail.
Yes!
- Excellent!
- And this report concludes
that the robbery
was a 3-man job.
Any less, and they
couldn't have shifted
that amount of gold
in the time allotted;
any more, and there
wouldn't have been
enough room in
the vault for them.
So that's Frank Powell, Mike
Barnes aka Trevor Jones,
and, in all likelihood,
Johnny Tevis.
- And Dean was
just the laundryman?
- Well, they were pros.
They wouldn't take a
civilian on a job like that.
- Oh! Haven't we
got any fresh milk?
No, we haven't.
- Well, didn't you get some more?
Well, have it black.
It won't kill you.
According to the
Probation Service,
Frank Powell was released
from prison August 15, 2004.
- Well, that's a month
before Dean died.
- Yeah. Now, he runs a
snooker club in Whitechapel.
- Off we go, then.
No, I'll tell you what,
guv, I think, uh...
I think I'll be
better on me own.
Hi, uh,
tell Frank Powell
that Gerry Standing
wants a word, will you?
Well, go on then!
Do I know you?
No.
But I know you.
You put my old man inside.
He'd want me to give you this.
- Hold on, hold on.
Come on! What you
gonna do now, eh?
Come on, then! Come on!
Eh! What you gonna
do now, eh? Come on!
What you gonna do?
What you gonna do now?
Come on.
Drop the knife, get lost,
and don't come back.
Yeah, cheers.
- It's been a while, Gerry.
Yeah. You got a
license for that?
Course I have.
But not for that.
Ha. Who was that?
I cannot tell you.
Can't, or won't?
I'm sorry it happened
in my place, Gerry,
but I won't grass him up.
Looks like we've got
a little problem, then.
So?
- How well did you
know Dean Scott?
Dean? So that's why you're here.
We kicked around a
bit when we was kids.
So you were mates?
- Back then.
What about Trevor Jones?
Was he part of your gang?
When you were kids.
Yeah, he was our little mascot.
Now, when you got released,
did you go and have
a drink with Dean,
for old times' sake?
No.
Because timing's
a funny thing, innit?
You see, you get
out, he gets killed.
Dean shot hisself.
Wait a minute. You
think he was murdered.
24 hours before he died,
Dean had a fight
outside The Peeler's.
Was that with you?
No.
Well, who then?
Or shall we have a
look for the license
for that shooter?
He had a bit of a
barney with Johnny Tevis.
What about?
- I dunno. Johnny never told me.
Where can I find him?
Last I heard, he was
down the South Coast.
That was a while ago. I
doubt he'd be there now.
The server company
only keep records
going back three years,
so we can't check if Dean
visited Alice Hill's Web site.
Any sign she's still
getting work through it?
No. Closed her contact
number down three months ago
and the email's on bounce-back.
Morning, all.
Morning!
I went to see Frank Powell!
- Oh, yeah?
Yeah. He reckons the fight
outside the pub was with Tevis,
but he doesn't know
what it was about.
It's time we
talked to Mr. Tevis.
You could have a problem, there.
Nobody's seen him
for at least six months.
Even my informants
don't know where he is.
Now, given the fact
he is a bit of a nomad,
he just seems to have
vanished into thin air.
- I don't like the sound
of that. Keep trying, Gerry.
Right, I'm off to see Pamela.
Maybe she can enlighten us.
See you later, boys.
- Ta-ta.
They took 150 12.5-kilo
bars of gold bullion.
That means 50 bars each.
Frank got nicked, Trevor
built his timeshare resort,
so what did Johnny
Tevis do with his share?
Well, there's only
three possibilities:
he sold it, stashed
it, or spent it slowly.
- The longer you
wait, the easier it is.
I wonder if he's been nicked.
What, Teflon Tevis?
We'd have heard.
There'd have been a party,
with drinks, maybe even nibbles.
Oh, yeah, those little
chicken satay sticks.
Oh, do you like them? Ew!
- I love them.
No, they're horrible, those.
- What, in the peanut sauce?
Yes! No, I like those
little vol-au-vents best.
- Those are
half-baked pies, them.
Oi! Have a butcher's at this.
He's in witness protection.
Oh!
Christ! Pamela! Are you hurt?
- No.
- Who did this?
- I don't want to talk about it.
- Pamela, is someone
trying to stop you
from cooperating with us?
We've arrested Mike Barnes.
- For what?
- For his part in the
Dover Street robbery.
You've heard of it.
Yeah.
Did you know he was involved?
- Was Dean?
- We don't think so, no.
Mike Barnes's real
name is Trevor Jones.
After the robbery,
he built the timeshare resort
to launder the proceeds.
Is that why Dean was killed?
It's possible.
Do you know a man
called Johnny Tevis?
Yes, he came to
visit us a few times
in Lanzarote; he
was a friend of Mike's.
Dean got into a fight with him
the night before he
died... Any idea why?
No. No, he never mentioned it.
Do you think Johnny
Tevis killed Dean?
Do you?
- I don't know.
Tell me who
smashed the place up.
I can't.
- We can protect you.
Good morning. Det Supt Pullman.
I just want to talk to
you about that guy...
Yeah.
UCOS. We're here
to see your boy.
- ID.
Cheers. You all right?
- Assume the position, gents.
- Oh.
Oi, oi! Careful, down there.
- Okay.
I never thought
I'd be so pleased
to see a couple
of old-school filth.
That's it, fellas, come in,
make yourselves at home.
Starved of entertainment,
are you, Johnny?
- Ah, bored to
tears. Want a drink?
No, thanks.
- Yeah, I will, cheers.
You know, the
last time I saw you,
you were driving a lovely old
Roller down the Mile End Road.
Oh, yes.
Still got that Stag?
Yeah! Cheers.
We'd like to ask you
about Dean Scott.
- Okay, fire away.
- How well did you know him?
Well, he was a
friend of a friend.
We talked if we
bumped into each other,
but we weren't close.
- So what did you two fight
about the night before he died?
It was nothing. We
were both pissed,
at the time, you
know, messing around.
Let's call it an excess
of testosterone.
- Who won?
Who do you think?
Didn't you used to box?
Yeah, only amateur.
No, you were good.
Good quick jab, right hook.
- So what made you stop?
I didn't want to
mess up the boat.
- Is that why you picked
a fight with a bloke
who was smaller than
you and 20 years older?
Yeah, Dean started it.
Why?
He had a short fuse,
especially after a few pints.
Come on, it must've
been about something.
What was it, money, reputation?
Reputation? Don't make me laugh.
He didn't have a reputation
to get arsey about.
Whose local was The Robert Peel?
Well, back then, it was mine.
So, he came looking for you.
- What'd you do to him, Johnny?
It must've been pretty bad,
for him to come and dig
out a hard man like you.
- Handsome Johnny Tevis?
It was because of a woman.
How long had you been
sleeping with Pamela
when he found out?
Not my type.
I liked 'em stacked and blonde.
So you weren't having an affair?
No.
- You know, I think
I've changed my mind.
I think I'll have
that drink, after all.
Help yourself.
Thank you.
You know, we've
nicked Mike Barnes,
aka Trevor Jones,
for Dover Street.
I hadn't heard.
Two down, one to go.
- Ooh! Good luck.
Mmm, very nice.
Good vintage, is it?
Latour '82. It's
one of the greats.
So where's the rest
of the gold, Johnny,
I mean, apart from
what's in your mouth?
- Dover Street had
nothing to do with me.
Come on, Johnny, everyone
knows you were the getaway driver.
Yeah? Well, everyone's wrong.
- I reckon you've got 50 bars
stashed away somewhere.
Yeah, I wish.
The price of gold
today, eh, gentlemen?
Gone right through the roof.
50 gold bars,
worth an absolute
bloody fortune.
Millions.
How big a body
builder is the bastard?
Say, on a scale of 1 to 10.
Mr. Sergeyev?
Det Supt Pullman.
I'd like to talk to you
about Pamela Scott.
May we come in?
Ahh! Oh!
Ah! Oh.
Ohh!
- Oh.
There's nothing
here, Brian. Come on.
Hang on, what's this?
Oh. Good news is it
looks like his loan book.
Bad news is it's in Russian.
- All we're asking is that
you exert some pressure
so that we can bring Johnny
Tevis in for questioning.
- He's their star witness
in a case against
the McKenzie family.
We're talking major
organized crime.
You'll need more than
circumstantial evidence
to prise him away.
- We think he was banging
the dead man's wife.
- Well, then you get
some actual evidence!
Until then, the answer's no!
How sure are you?
- I'd stake my reputation on it.
- Theory!
Dean Scott finds
out that Johnny Tevis
is sleeping with
his wife, Pamela,
so he goes to The
Peeler's, they have a fight,
Dean Scott loses,
and he goes home.
Pamela's not there, so
he just sits there, brooding,
until she comes
back from her mum's
and he threatens her,
so she phones Johnny,
who comes over, shoots him,
and then they make
it look like suicide.
What about Alice, the escort?
Yeah, well, she didn't
come forward for five years
and, when she did, her
prints weren't at the scene.
You don't think
she was there, then?
Well, my heart wants to
believe her, but my gut says no.
Finally, we're in
agreement about her.
So why did she lie?
Well, that's what
I can't figure out.
Maybe someone wants
Johnny Tevis arrested for murder
so he can't testify
at the McKenzie trial,
so they put Alice up to it.
Hmm.
Velvet gloves.
Nah, sorry, I just don't buy it.
I think the reason your
prints were never found
at Dean's house is because
you were never there
and, if you were never there,
then you couldn't have
witnessed anyone barging in.
Why would I make that up?
Because someone wants
Johnny Tevis not
to be able to testify.
I've no idea what
you're talking about.
Come on, Alice,
Who put you up to it?
Nobody!
You just don't like me, do you?
Why is that? Too
much competition?
I think Dean threatened
you when he found out
about your affair
with Johnny Tevis,
so your lover came
round and killed him.
No. None of that is true.
- We're giving you a
chance, here, Pamela.
If that's what happened, then
you can plead self-defense,
but we need to know now.
I stayed at my mother's.
When I came home, he was dead.
Ah.
You're not being straight
with us and that's a mistake,
given the gravity
of the situation.
If Johnny killed him and
you don't say anything,
that makes you an
accomplice, so who shot Dean?!
What?!
- You both need to see this.
Pamela wasn't the only one
who owed Sergeyev
the loan shark money.
Alice Hill did, too.
No such thing as
a bad coincidence.
And Sibford House
is only a spit away
from Tadmerton House,
where Pamela lives.
They know each other.
- Yeah, and Alice only
moved into her new flat
south of the river
four months ago.
- All in the timing.
Records show that,
until four months ago,
when you "got religion,"
you were living just round
the corner from Pamela Scott.
Whatever you say.
Her neighbors confirm that
you saw a lot of each other.
Well, they're wrong.
- Alice, just admit it.
You're friends. There's
no law against it.
I... I do not know the woman.
Have you really
found God, Alice?
No.
I didn't think so.
The whole thing was
just a great, big con.
Whose idea was it,
yours or Pamela's?
- No comment.
We know about your debts.
This interview is suspended
at 10:51 AM.
What's going on?
- I know what
they've been up to.
Unless you want to continue to
pretend that Dean was murdered
and risk getting done for
it, this has to end right now!
- Okay.
That's the first smart
decision you've made all day.
- Why did Dean shoot himself?
Did he find out about
you and Johnny?
Were you in love with Johnny?
I thought I was.
How did Dean react when
he found out about you two?
Well, at first, he was gutted.
Then he said he'd forgive me,
as long as I agreed to
never see Johnny again.
But you couldn't do that?
- No.
He'd done something
to me. I was infatuated.
I never felt anything
like that before
and the thought of
never seeing him again,
it was just too much to bear,
so I told Dean I
wanted a divorce.
Were you with Johnny
the night Dean died?
Yes.
But, in the morning, I realized
what a fool I'd been,
so I went home to
beg Dean to forgive me,
to take me back,
but I was too late.
He'd left a suicide note.
I hid it, out of shame.
After you came round,
I tried to destroy it,
but I couldn't; it
was too painful.
It's the last thing
he ever gave me.
One, terrible mistake,
all because some flash
sod turned my head.
Did you know about
Dover Street or Dean's role
in the laundering
of the proceeds?
- No, not until she told me.
Life's hard, now Dean's
gone, isn't it, Pamela?
It's bloody hard.
- So how have
you made it easier?
Every year, Dean had made
his life insurance payments.
We were owed. I was owed.
But he'd switched to a
new company, so the policy
was less than 12 months
old when he killed himself
and, because of that,
it was null and void.
They pay out on suicide?
Yes, just as long as it
doesn't happen in the first year.
Two months later,
it would've been fine
for Dean to blow his brains out.
He had his enemies.
I figured you wouldn't
even have to find his killer.
As long as it wasn't
considered a suicide,
then I could make a claim.
So you got Alice Hill
to say she was with him
and saw a man
forcing his way in?
Yeah, well, she needed
the money as much as I did.
I was going to
split it with her.
Well, after Dean died, Johnny
wasn't interested anymore.
That bastard liked the
danger of being caught
more than he actually liked me.
I lost everything because of him
and he couldn't give a toss.
The only thing that man
ever loved was his stupid cars.
I tried to smash them up, once.
I figured it would be the only
way I could really hurt him,
but I couldn't even get in; it
was like Fort bloody Knox.
You couldn't get in where?
His lockup.
Johnny Tevis has never lived
in one place for
more than a year,
but he's had this
since the early '80s.
- Good morning.
- Morning!
Det Supt Pullman.
- That's fine.
- Morning.
- Morning.
One warrant.
- That's fine, thank you.
Did well to keep
this place quiet.
Are you sure about this?
- Well, it's worth a go.
Bugger it!
We ought to get the
lab boys down here,
tear this place apart.
- Come on, I'll buy you a pint.
Oh! Hang on, you've got
whitewash all over your coat.
Hang on a minute.
These bricks are very small.
Ah, you can't stay away
from me, can you, Jack?
I've been to your lockup.
Nice brickwork.
I'm of the opinion that
it's not in anyone's interest
to push the CPS to charge
either Pamela or Alice.
- Well, they intended to
defraud the insurance company
and they wasted police time.
- Yeah, but Pamela's
already lost everything, sir.
She's had it pretty tough.
- The time wasn't
entirely wasted.
We got some of the gold
back and caught Trevor Jones.
You might even get
a pop at Johnny Tevis,
once he's given evidence.
I'm afraid Johnny
Tevis is off-limits.
Dover Street's been
incorporated into his deal.
Well, at least,
you hit him where
it hurts, Jack.
That lockup was his pension.
Oh, perhaps you're
right about Pamela Scott.
You know, there's still
a reward on the gold.
- No. No, I didn't, sir.
Well, maybe someone
should claim it.
Good idea, sir.
Well, well done, everyone.
Enjoy the weekend.
You too.
Oh, I'm off to an
APCO strategy summit.
Have fun, sir.
- So, who's going to tell
Pamela about the reward?
I will.
I suppose one of us claiming
it would be out of the question?
- Completely.
And it's against Met rules,
as you well know, Gerry.
Yeah, but, technically,
those rules only apply to you.
I mean, we're civilians.
Could be a good few bob in it.
That'd be a no, then.
♪ It's alright, it's okay ♪
♪ doesn't really matter
if you're old and gray ♪
♪ It's alright, I
say, it's okay ♪
♪ listen to what I say ♪
♪ It's alright, doin' fine ♪
♪ doesn't really matter
if the sun don't shine ♪
♪ It's alright, I
say, it's okay ♪
♪ we're gettin' to the
end of the day ♪ ♪
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