Ashes to Ashes (2008–2010): Season 1, Episode 3 - Episode #1.3 - full transcript

Resynck: Xenzai

Thank you very much.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

It's lovely to have you,
and lovely to have you...

I know that if I turn around,
you'll vanish...

I know that.

I'm coming back to you, Molly.

Give location of area car, over.

Wapping Wall, heading East.

Wapping Wall. Roger that.
Over and out.

Steady on, Guv, you nearly lost
me breakfast then.



- What is that?
- It's me kebab.

Looks like a bloody pasty
with its arse hangin' out.

Must you?

Six months we've waited
for a tip-off on this lot.

If you think I'm gonna let them slip
through the net by driving like a tart,

you are mistaken.

Go on, Guv, we nearly
got the bastards!

Wouldn't have had you down
as the Percy Thrower type.

They're for me mam,
she collects them.

Ah, very touching.

Who's your mother?

Marianne Faithfull?

What's up with you today?

Just because I'm stuck here doesn't
mean I have to pretend to like it.



Fine. I'll leave you to
it then, sulky knickers.

Thank you.

Hunt!

Here...

Make your mind up, woman.

You all right, love?

My name is Alex Drake.

I've just been shot and that bullet
has taken me back to 1981.

I may be one second away from life...

or one second away from death.

All I know is that I have
to keep fighting.

Fight to live,
fight to see my daughter.

Fight to get home.

Episode 3
NOTHING CHANGES

Go, Viv. Take 'em down the cells.

- Cheers, Guv.
- I need a piss.

It's en suite.

Someone's nicked the bucket, Guv.

Oh, if it isn't
bloody nailed down...

This requires a cognitive
interview procedure.

We're fresh out of cognitives.
What say we just talk to her?

I don't think she'll open
up with a man present.

Plenty of women
have opened up to me without

so much as a shandy down their neck.

She's scared of you.

Can't say I blame her.

Trust me.

What's this, Viv?

It's for the canteen...

Toaster.

Right, here you go.

Right, let's find these
a "gnome" to go to.

Are you havin' that, skip?
"Gnome to go to"?

Don't give up your day job, boss.

Well?

Promise me something.

- What?
- Don't gloat.

Oh, dear.

The "cognitive approach"
didn't work?

- You promised.
- You failed.

She's traumatised.

We need to keep her here.

Check out the missing
persons file.

Yes, Guv.

Her name's Nina. Doesn't want
to go home, wants to stay here.

Where's home?

I don't know, I couldn't get
anything else out of her.

Why does she keep
scratching herself all over?

I don't know. It could be nerves,
could be self-harming.

Whatever's happened to that girl has
frightened the life out of her.

Wait till you hear this one, Guv.

Prozzie wants to make
a complaint of rape.

Rape?!

Drake!

Yeah, he's got a beard...

Yeah, and a fishing rod...

It's broken?

Yeah, got the little
fella right here, love.

Come and pick him up anytime.

Trixie... Real name Patricia Walsh.

Recently promoted from
the streets to escort work.

Seen more beaks than Daffy Duck
at a family knees-up.

Raped.
Who's she trying to kid?

They say it's difficult for
rape victims to be believed...

- I wonder why?
- She gets paid for having sex.

It's not about sex, is it? It's about
control and power and revenge.

Tell me about it some other time,
when I'm in a coma or dead.

The interview room?
Where's the rape suite?

Rape suite?

What, is that with
or without a mini bar?

Not like a hotel suite!

So, where did this "rape"
take place?

On that big flash boat
up by Tower Bridge.

Which boat?

I don't know. Sky something I think.

I'll get Chris on to it.

So, the escort agency you work for
booked you with a client?

He took me to a party on this boat.

Load of posh sorts there... As many
champagne cocktails as you like.

- What, so you were drunk?
- I can hold me own.

- Do you charge extra for that or...?
- Carry on, Trixie.

It gets late.

I goes in to this cabin,
where I thought the client was,

but it turns out he'd gone.

Then someone comes in,
switches the lights out.

Puts a key in the door to lock it.

I thought it was the client
but it wasn't.

Were guests given keys to the cabins?

Not that I know of.

So it had to be somebody
who worked on the boat?

I guess so.

Trixie, can you describe
the man who raped you?

Well, it was dark, so I didn't
get a proper look at him...

but he was skinny.

Curly hair.

Wore a suit, I think.

Posh accent.

So we're looking for a skinny,
curly-haired bloke in a suit...

...who was on a big boat
somewhere on the river?

Right! Better crack on!

We've got about a million
suspects to interview

before we knock off.
DI Drake, shall we?

I knew it'd be a waste of time.

Congratulations, Puss in Boots,
first sensible thing you've said.

Drop this quicker
than you drop your draws,

or I'm gonna arrest you
for wasting police time.

It's just, you know,
it's upsetting talking about it.

Of course it is. Just...

just take your time, Trixie.

I thought he was just another punter

after the usual... Straight sex.

He was all right at first.
Said I was beautiful.

Blimey, it was dark!

"Beautiful on the outside"...

that was it.

But then he turns weird.

He starts saying,
"You're all impure".

Calling me names...

"filthy whore" and stuff.

Next thing, he's
digging a ring in to me.

It felt like a sovereign ring.

That's when he raped me.

And then he started to strangle me.

Did you struggle?

I was too scared to. He had a knife.

He slashed me with it.
I thought he was going to kill me!

I'm tellin' you this bloke,
whoever he is,

he's gonna do it again.
He's a nutter.

Where did he cut you, Trixie?

- Left breast.
- Could we see?

Oh, when DCI Hunt has left the room.

When you're done...

a word.

Ten centimetres
across the left breast.

About eight weeks ago,

we found the body of a young woman,
Delphine Parkes.

Black, about 5'2". Early 20s.

She'd been raped, probably.

Beaten and strangled...

and...

...her breast had been slashed.

- Left breast.
- Was she a sex worker?

Prozzie? No, far from it.

Regular church goer, in the choir.

Decent family life. Lived at home.
No boyfriends.

Suspects?

We hauled in the usual
perves and psychos. Nothing.

So the only thing to link
Delphine and Trixie

are the injuries,
especially the one to the breast?

Correct.

Although the detail about the breast
was never released to the press.

- So how would Trixie know about it?
- That's what I'm wondering.

Well, let's pull Delphine's file...

Are you OK?

We, um, found that
on Delphine's body.

Why would she carry
that around with her?

Presumably as a keep sake.

The choir was
a big part of her life.

That took pride of place
in her mum's house.

And that was
also found with the body.

God is in the detail, huh?

I know you've all seen these before
but look again.

Is there anything in them that might
connect the murder of Delphine Parkes

to the injuries sustained
by Trixie Walsh?

I wish I'd never had that kebab.

DI Drake has a theory.

The cut is on the same breast

but it's different to the one
on Trixie Walsh. It's deeper.

This is a disorganised crime
whereas the attack on Trixie,

although violent, is more
organised, more thought out.

There's also a lesion on
Delphine that isn't on Trixie.

Yeah. She was wearing
this St Christopher

which was ripped
off her during the attack.

Fingerprints?

- No traces.
- What were her last movements?

She left work as normal.
Had something to eat.

Told her mum
she was going to the church

although there wasn't
any choir practice.

Did she often go to church when
there was no choir practice?

Her mum and dad said
that she'd been a few times.

- Witnesses?
- The night she was killed,

an old dear who goes to the same
church saw her there alone.

That was an hour before
the estimated time of death.

How long would it take her to
get from the church back to her home?

Well, on foot, which she was...
between 15, 20 minutes.

So she met somebody
on her way home,

or went somewhere else
afterwards. Boyfriend?

We checked out all the blokes where
she worked and who went to her church.

Water-tight alibis the lot of them.

OK, so we need to
re-trace her steps,

- see if we've missed anything.
- Is that a dig?

No, just a fresh pair of eyes
might uncover something new.

Oh, it's all right lads,
Wonder Woman's here.

- FYI, DI Carling...
- FY what?

- I think she means FBI.
- We're CID.

I'm only interested in
finding out what happened.

If you want to sit there making
smug comments, that's fine.

Time of the month.

Mrs Parkes...

- You got him?
- Er no, not yet.

But we're doing everything
we can, I promise.

This is my colleague, DI Drake.

Hello. Your husband told us
we'd find you here.

It doesn't take away the pain,
but it eases it a little.

I can still hear Delphine's
voice in the choir...

Such a pure, sweet voice,

like you never heard.

People say I may be cracking up,

but I hope I never stop hearing it.

You want to come in?

Where were you
when she needed you?

Alex!

Goodbye, Alex.

Mummy!

- Alex, wake up!
- Wake up, Mummy!

Make sure she concentrates...

...she's easily distracted.

Beautiful on the outside...
you're all impure...

Trixie said the man
who raped her told her

that she was "beautiful
on the outside" but impure.

"You're all impure".

Now, I may have lapsed but I knew
that I recognised that phrase.

"You're like whitewashed tombs...
beautiful on the outside

"but filled on the inside

"with dead men's bones
and all sorts of impurities".

Matthew, Chapter 23, verses 27-28.

So he's a religious nutter?

Except on a day-to-day basis he
probably functions perfectly normally.

He won't have had successful
relationships with women,

he's sexually dysfunctional.

He tries to replace sex with God
and realises that he can't.

What, and you can tell all this
from a quote in the Bible?

Well, I've worked on cases
similar to this before.

He cuts the breast
because it's symbolic.

You know,
it's the nurturer, the suckler,

but it's a literal attack on
femininity, on all womanhood.

Don't you ever get brain ache?

This man has unresolved anger.

Details on that Trixie
you asked for.

He's cleansing society
of these impure women,

and we have to stop him
before he kills again.

Well, at least
Delphine's attacker existed.

Why would Trixie lie?

Because she wants to get one
over the agency that sacked her!

An agency girl that accuses a
client of rape -

that's going to go down about as well
as a pork pie at a Jewish wedding.

If I'd have wanted
to get my own back,

I'd have just gone to work
for another agency.

They said you rolled a punter.

He never paid the agreed fee.
I just took what was mine.

Look, this has got nothing
to do with why I'm here.

I'm begging you to believe me.

I was raped... nearly killed.

The bloke who did it, he's gonna try
and kill one of us again.

- You've got to stop him... please.
- We will.

You know, you might be
a good performer at work,

but you don't cut it with me.

Does this look like the
boat where it happened?

Yeah, I think so.

We bring in all members of staff,
every single one,

that was on the boat
the night Trixie was attacked.

No we don't.

What?

The boat is owned by
a Mr Leonard Roseberry-Sykes

who's a bigger pain in the arse
than a bad dose of piles.

So he's a pain in the arse. Why should
that stop us questioning suspects?

Because Mr Roseberry-Sykes is
a member of the funny-handshake brigade,

along with our dearly
beloved Commissioner of the Met.

Which means he's got
the Commissioner by the bollocks,

which means he's got us
by the bollocks!

Well, some of us at least.

So what, we just do nothing?

We play it softly softly.

It's a waste of time
all this, isn't it?

I mean, we've only got the word
of some tom to go on.

And that's what you
all think, is it?

Whether you believe Trixie or not,

somebody cut her.

Someone hurt her and
someone left her for dead.

What is it going to take
for you to realise that prostitutes

need your protection
as much as anybody else?

What, another Yorkshire Ripper?

Sod the lot of you.

I'm going to do something I should
have done a long time ago!

Put in for a transfer with any luck.

Drake, where are you going?

Somewhere my subconscious
thinks I should be!

My God...

Can I help you?

Evan!

I was just looking for Caroline.

Oh, I'm afraid she's in
with a client at the moment.

But maybe I can help? Evan...

Evan White.

God, you were gorgeous!

Were?

Er... are.

You, you won't believe how
glad I am to see you.

Thank you!

Gosh, if only I had this effect
on all the attractive women I met.

Oh, you will!

Thank you for the vote
of confidence.

Do you think I
could have my hand back?

Yeah, sorry.

Um... message?

For Caroline...

Um, no.

No, no message, I, er...

I was just looking for some... some
reassurance from someone I trust.

But it doesn't matter,
it's not important.

So what are you going to do?
Without that reassurance?

What do YOU think I should do?

Do you think
I'm the right person to ask

considering I've only known you
for seconds?

Er no!

But if you did know me?

I'd say go with your instinct.

Good luck.

Where the bloody hell is she?

Try left here, Guv.

Trixie?

Yeah, she's all right.

As long as you don't
get on the wrong side of her.

Had a soft spot
for the lame ducks...

like a mum to the younger girls,
no kids of her own.

All right. Well, remember, if
you do see any dodgy punters...

They're nearly all dodgy, love.

Or if any girls goes missing...

call me.

Are you stalking me, Hunt?

What are you up to?

I'm warning these girls about
Trixie's attacker. Somebody has to.

Why has she got such a bloody great bee
in her bonnet about these prozzies?

Hormones.
It's always hormones.

Maybe I should go down
to Kings Cross?

Why? Are we not paying you enough?

I just want them to be safe.

Am I missing something here?

But why are you
so bothered about them?

- Does there have to be a reason?
- Yes.

All right. OK...

The skeleton in the closet.

The private education,
years at Oxbridge...

all counted for nothing really,

because I, Alex Drake...

was once...

a prostitute.

- Bloody'ell.
- I knew it.

There, I've said it.

Christ on a bike.

That wasn't as bad as
I thought it might be.

Are you telling me that you lied
to get into the Force?

No, actually.

What I just told you was a lie.

I said it to show how your
pre-conceptions can inform

your judgements about other people...
especially prostitutes.

Sorry.

You know, sometimes
I hate you, Drake.

So I'm not how you would
expect a prostitute to be?

If I said I'd been raped,
you would believe me,

but not someone like Trixie,
not a woman like that.

No, not hate. Despise.

All right. So I'm not a hooker...

But if I was, do you know
something, Gene?

You could never...

ever... afford me.

You know, you might talk with a
plum in your gob, love...

but I would rather go with one of them

than waste my money
on some bitter, twisted,

messed up,

clenched-arsed,
toffee-nosed bitch like you.

Do you feel better now?

No.

Better now.

Well...

...come on, ladies,
what are you waiting for?

Let's get pissed.

A proper punch?

Yeah, she's Joe Bugner
in a frock.

Hey, the Guv should be careful or
she'll wrap him round her little finger.

You should get help.

Yeah, and you should
get some manners.

Bitch?

It was hardly worth
a smack in the chops.

It could have been worse,
I could have aimed far lower.

So, am I forgiven?

- I'll tell you when I can feel my gob.
- I was right though.

Any woman who walks in to your station
deserves to be treated equally.

- Sex worker or not.
- Sex worker!

You talk about them as
though they're your mates.

I would've thought your sort
were more the old, um,

Pimms on the lawn brigade.

- Yeah, course they are.
- You know...

I bet you've got the names of a couple
of minor royals in your address book.

I bet you're on first name terms
with them Armstrong-Joneses?

Sorry, no.

No mates, to speak of.
Not any more.

Tell me, do you ever
get lonely, Gene?

Gene Genie? Lonely?

Too busy clearing the streets of
Cockney filth and scum to get lonely.

Sometimes.

And if I ever hear you repeat that
I will stamp on your pretty little head.

Why can't I just enjoy the last
few seconds of life?

It doesn't ALL have to
be all about pain, does it?

No.

What doesn't?

What would you do, Gene?

Your last few seconds on Earth.
Anything you want.

Right now.

- What, anything?
- Anything...

Right now?

Right now.

Say it.

I'm drunk.

And you're very drunk.

What are you doing?

I'm doing the right thing.

And you should go to bed, Bolly.

Champagne should
never be drunk alone.

Well, I couldn't agree more.

She'll be dropping her knickers
right here the way she's going on.

Do you think I should
say something to her?

Nah.

You are so not my type.

Really?

Ray... Ray!

- Your place or mine?
- Mine.

On one condition.

What?

You let me ping your braces.

- Hi, hi, Shaz...
- Are you all right?

- No, I'm, I'm fine...
- Are you coming in today?

Yeah, yeah, no... I'll come in.

See you later.
Bye.

Please, I can't... I can't...

- You're going to have to.
- Don't make me, I can't.

You can't stay here.
Now on your way.

Is everything all right, Viv?

Hid in the Ladies all night, ma'am.

Just trying to get her to go home.

- Look, you're going, OK...
- Put her in the records room.

- Keep an eye on her.
- Yes, ma'am.

That girl's home life must be bad

to make her want to stay here.

Be honest, Viv...

- ... how do I look?
- Er... fine.

Word of advice.

Don't bother with poker.

- You been snogging that prozzie?
- Piss off.

Burnt it on a cheese and tomato toastie
on that bastard Breville thing.

Cup of tea'd be nice, Shaz.

Chris has just made us one.

That's plonk's job.

I was making one anyway.

Poof.

God, Ray, what's up with your lip?

It's not that bloody bad.

That a dose of the
old pox, Raymondo?

I burnt my lip, Guv, all right?

It's just a burn!

Morning.

Morning, ma'am.

Good night last night was it,
Inspector?

Yeah, thanks, Ray.

You look a bit tired.
You been up all night, have you?

Nearly.

But you know what?

It was really worth it.

All fur coat and no knickers.

She might not have been lying
when she said she used to be a hooker.

Staff names from The Sunborn, ma'am.

There's a fancy dress party
on board there tonight.

I could hire you all costumes.

Maybe that could be your cover.

Yeah, great. Thanks, Shaz.

Can I ask you something?

Course you can.

Was it really that good? You know,
what you were on about just now.

It was amazing.

How's the hangover?

Yeah, it's coming along nicely.
How's your chin?

Well, at least I can feel it now.

There's a party tonight
on the Sunborn.

We could go as guests, and check
out the staff for Trixie's rapist.

Look, um...

don't get all feminist on me
but, er... tongues are wagging.

It's nothing I can't handle.

Yeah, well, I wouldn't want
you getting a name for yourself.

Oh God, you really are a 1981 construct
through and through, aren't you?

It's amazing.

I am trying to help you here.

Well, I don't need your "help".

Their archaic attitude is
their problem, not mine.

Wrong. It's my problem.

To keep this department running
smoothly, I need their respect.

They look up to me.
They should be looking up to you.

What do you want me to do,
morph into to a nun?

It's not like I've shagged
an entire rugby team, is it?!

I bet she has!

- It's your fault anyway!
- Why is it my fault?

Because you left me on my own, and
I ended up with some Thatcherite wanker!

I told you to go to bed... alone.

If you'd listened to me,

we wouldn't be wasting my time
having this conversation.

That's right.
We are wasting time,

when we should be making
a plan for tonight.

Get those fancy
dress costumes, Shaz.

You could've made an effort.

You know they say that a big cigar

makes up for a less than
impressive manhood.

Not this hombre, sweetheart.

It might do it for Monica Lewinsky
but it does nothing for me.

Monica who?

Just some girl who's tipped to go
down well in the White House.

Where's Chris and Ray?

Sorry... can't see a thing in these.

Superman... and Clark Kent.
Good, eh, Guv?

Don't call me that,
we're undercover.

Sorry, Guv.

Remember - a skinny,
curly haired bloke wearing a sov.

What about him over there?

Well, he's not skinny, is he?

That's the third person
who's thought I was a waiter.

Who are you supposed to be?

The name's Bond...

James Bond.

Well, James Bond didn't
have the... tache, did he?

It's his Breville lip.
It was either that or Jesus.

Right, we split up.

See if any of these waiters
fit Trixie's description.

What about him?

No, straight hair.

What about that one?

No, he's not wearing a ring.

Drake, sovereign ring over there...

Time for a little bit of
role play, I think.

Hi...

It's not him.

Let's keep looking.

Thanks very much.

Get off!

Everybody thinks I'm a waiter.

Christ, you could actually
be on to something, Bolly.

Over there...

He was in Delphine's choir.
We interviewed him.

Let's go.

Just remember...

softly, softly, Drake.

That's Roseberry-Sykes.

If he smells a rat, we go.

If we upset him,
we're all in the shit.

I've got an idea.
Maybe we can provoke a reaction.

Tell him you think
women like me are dirty.

Tell him you think
I'm like a prostitute.

You've got no respect
for women like that.

In fact, Gene... just be yourself.

Jammy bastard.

Fancy shoving her overboard?

No amount of water could ever
get a woman like that clean.

Our Lord has many words to describe
women like her.

Impure?

Very.

She may be beautiful
on the outside...

But filled on the inside with dead
men's bones and all sorts of impurity.

What's your name, sir?

Ryan.

Full name, sir.

Ryan Burns.
Why do ask?

I am arresting you for the rape and
attempted murder of Trixie Walsh...

- Not at the moment...
- Who?

What's going on?

Nothing. This young lady was just
having a little chat...

A rape took place on your boat
two nights ago, Mr Roseberry-Sykes.

This man here is a suspect.

Rape?
There must be some mistake.

I'm afraid not.

Now if you'll just come quietly,
we can get this over and done with.

I'm not a waiter, all right?
I'm James Bond!

- Raymondo!
- This is unbelievable!

Yeah. Right, go. Now!

Sorry to cause
this inconvenience, sir.

Leave it, he's not worth it!

Stay!

Hello again...

Inspector.

Hello.

Recognise this woman?

No, sir.

She was on The Sunborn the
night of the alleged rape.

You were on duty... we checked.

Well, I was... but I didn't see her.

Unless anyone actually saw my client
sexually assault the complainant,

all this is completely circumstantial.
Has anyone witnessed it?

So the only witness to this
alleged crime is the complainant?

- A prostitute?
- Correct.

Have you had sex with a
prostitute before, Mr Burns?

You really don't have to answer that.

No, I wouldn't... I couldn't.

You were the only one that used
the exact quote from the Bible

that the victim says you used.

Quoting from the Bible
doesn't make someone a rapist.

Shall we let Mr Burns
speak for himself?

Did you or did you not

rape and assault Trixie Walsh?

I swear I did not rape
or assault Trixie Walsh.

I've never even seen her...

as God is my witness.

Shaz, find out anything you can
about Ryan Burns.

Double check the statements
that placed him at the park

- at the time of Delphine's murder
- Yes, ma'am.

Right. I've asked Ray and Chris
to keep an eye on that girl

who keeps hanging
around the station.

What, Nina?
What's she done to deserve them?

Well, they can't make a balls
up of that, can they?

We had a dog that used to
scratch itself all the time.

Distemper.

That wasn't his name.

Had to be put down in the end.

Yes, sir... Thank you, sir.

Well?

That's us bolloxed.

Roseberry-Sykes has been
on to the Commissioner.

He's accused us of
victimising his staff.

Unless we can get
something that sticks,

we're gonan have to let Burns go.

And right now, we've got sweet FA.

Shit.

I know this won't mean
anything to you

but I just wanted to say
I honestly think that I'm right.

- And if I'd had more time...
- Not time, patience.

You didn't have all the facts, you
couldn't present a strong enough case.

But you still believe you're right...

- Yes. I do.
- Snap.

One of us has to be wrong...

It's not a question of being wrong,
but doing the right thing.

Ryan Burns should have somebody fight
his corner whether he's innocent or not.

How's your Latin?

- It's rusty.
- Alios tracta sicut te ipsum.

Treat others as yourself.

Not so rusty.

I remember that!
Those...

Really? Wow, they've
only just come out.

It's for Alex,
my boss's daughter,

though she'll probably say
she's too old for toys.

- I bet she loves it when you spoil her.
- Well, she's worth every penny.

- Is she?
- Definitely.

Well, Inspector Drake...

- Alex.
- Really?

Well, Alex, I hope we meet again.
It's been...

unique.

Getting to know the enemy?

You know what, I'm not even sure that
you and I are on the same side any more.

Well, let's put that
to the test, shall we?

I went with your idea on
Trixie Walsh's story...

now you can go with mine.

Your alleged rapist, Ryan Burns,

doesn't even remember seeing you,
never mind having sex with you.

Well, he would say that,
wouldn't he?

About the only thing you got right
was him wearing a ring.

- What kind of ring was it again?
- Sovereign.

Sure?

Like this, was it?

So how can you be sure?

Because you said it was dark.
What, you got x-ray vision?

- I'm pretty sure.
- Do you know what I think?

I think I've got x-ray vision
because I can see right through you.

You've made this whole thing up,
haven't you?

And I want to know why.

- I can't tell you.
- Can't or won't?

Both.

You weren't raped, were you?

Don't let that bastard get off.
He's sick!

No, sweetheart. You're sick.

Sorry it took so long.

I didn't know if you wanted sugar?

There you are!

And who have we got here?

Really?

Spit the dog!

That was rubbish, wasn't it?

You should smile more. It suits you.

Don't let him off! Listen to me!

This isn't right, you shouldn't
have let him go!

Will someone listen to me?
I want justice!

Tough tits.
You've got me instead.

Get in.

No, thanks.

What happened to your lip?

I burnt it.

Everyone keeping pulling my leg
saying I've been kissing a prozzie.

I mean... a lady of the night.

Like me?

Yeah. I like you.

- You seem like a nice kid.
- No.

Like me.

What? You mean you're a...?

You're having me on...

nice girl like you?

Don't believe me?

No, I don't think I do, love.

Why would you want to make
something up like that?

I'm not.

Hang on a minute, love.

If I was such a nice girl,

why would someone do this to me?

And Nina actually told YOU this?

She showed me the cut.

She's a mess... covered in bruises.

She knows that Trixie. It was her
who got her into the escort agency.

She'd only just started.

It wasn't Trixie who was raped,
it was Nina.

Trixie knew that Nina would be
too traumatised to come to us,

so she faked the rape as her own,
to protect...

- I know.
- What do you mean, you know?

Once Motor Mouth here had stopped
shouting and started talking,

the truth came out, eventually!

If anything happens
to one of those girls,

you lot won't know what's hit you.

Why would Ryan Burns
try and kill Nina?

Why would he kill Delphine?
What was his motive?

Shaz. Pass me the magnifier.

What have you got?

A link, hopefully.

Here, look in this photograph...

Burns is wearing the St Christopher, but
in this one, he's given it to Delphine.

They were courting...

Everything's significant.

- I don't get why he killed her though.
- Maybe he didn't mean to kill her.

He thought he loved her.

But she rejected him
which made him feel...

impure. He lashed out,
ripped the St Christopher off...

and afterwards he felt...

dirty and he needed someone
to take out his self-hatred on.

When he realised Nina worked for an
escort agency, he had to kill her.

- Let's just get the twisted bastard.
- He'll go after prostitutes again.

Skinny, curly hair, looked
like butter wouldn't melt...

- Where did they go?
- Up by the river there.

Got to go...

It was Sonya he went off with.

It was a white Escort.

White Escort in there.

Over there.

Ray... take the stairs.

Ryan. Let her go.

No. I can't.

Come on Ryan,

not very Christian that, is it?

You don't understand.
I'm helping her.

How?

To lead a good life,
to be fruitful for God.

By raping and murdering her?

"I am the vine,
you are the branches".

John, Chapter 15, Verse 5.

You're nicked.

For the murder of Delphine Parkes,

the rape and attempted murder
of Nina Akaboa.

Anything you say will be taken down,
ripped up and shoved

down your scrawny little throat
until you choke to death.

Gene Hunt, Chapter 1, verse 2.

Scum.

Do you want the bad news
or the really bad news?

That Sonya's legged it...

which means our only chance of getting
that scumbag sent down is Nina.

If she'll press charges.

Do you think you can
pick him out in a line-up?

Will he see me?

I'll come with you.

Don't worry, love.
I won't let him intimidate you...

promise.

We'll help you as much as we can,
but when you're in the court room,

you're on your own.

Will they...

bring up what I used to do?

Probably.

So...

when it comes down to it,
it's just my word against his?

In a nut shell, love, yeah.

Will they believe me?

We can't say.

Well, we can.

I would love to be wrong
about this, sweetheart, but...

you've got as much chance
of convincing them

as Michael Foot has of becoming
Prime Minister.

Well, in that case...

I don't think I can
go through with it.

I don't want it to go to court.

Sorry.

Now do you understand why
I wanted to do this instead of her?

Take care, won't you?
Look after her.

Yeah, well, I'll try.

Right instinct. Wrong outcome.

I'm afraid I can't comment.

Go on then. Get it over with.

What?

The lecture.

No lecture.
You did the right thing.

Is there something wrong
with my hearing?

I could've sworn you said
"did the right thing".

With 5% of rape cases
ending in conviction,

what chance would SHE have had?

Yeah, well, you never know...
maybe it'll change one day.

Don't hold your breath.

My place?

Sorry. I'm with a friend.

Grassy arse...

I hope they don't start a fire,
Signor Hunt.

No, you're all right, Luigi...

Ray!

Your turn!

Mind you, you have got
insurance, haven't you?

What are we supposed
to be celebrating?

In a morning raid today,

police arrested 24-year-old
Ryan Burns of South London

for possession of ten
kilos of cocaine.

The drugs were found hidden inside
garden gnomes in Burns's car.

If found guilty, Burns faces a prison
sentence of at least 5 years...

- You didn't...
- Not me.

Well, maybe I've got
you all wrong, Ray.

Maybe you're not the stereotypical
Neanderthal I had you down as.

Here, Ray!

Quid says you can't light your
farts with one of these.

Make it a fiver and you're on!

Then again...

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd.

Resync: Nathbot

Suicide...

That wasn't caused by the fall.
Murder, then.

So Kennedy worked in the
research place? No big deal.

Gene, this must set off alarm bells.

Yes, it does. Molly on rampage with
idiot theories - run for your lives.

It's my room!

It's exactly like my room.

What's the reason for
the intimate rendez-vous?

I don't appreciate... And I don't
appreciate your lies,

you are a bloody liar!

I am so hot.

Oh dear Lord, if this is a test,
I fear I may fail.

Resynck: Xenzai