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Ashes to Ashes (2008–2010): Season 2, Episode 7 - Episode #2.7 - full transcript

Alex and DCI Hunt lead a raid on a construction site where a drug deal is being finalized. They also discover a partially buried body in a bed of freshly poured cement. For Hunt, making the drug bust and finding the the body is just a bit too convenient. He suspects the building site foreman of being up to something but can't quite put his finger on it. He soon realizes however that someone on the team is leaking information and he sets an elaborate trap to learn who it is. Alex meanwhile knows she's about to come out of surgery in her waking life and Summers, the rogue copper from her own time, warns her that her time is running short. She is shocked however when she meets the young PC Summers who approaches Hunt with a story about crooked cops and requesting his assistance.

Resync: Xenzai[NEF]

My name is Martin Summers.

You've arrived at the hospital,
Molly is on her way to see you.

Shazza, would you do the me the
amazing honour of becoming my wife?

- Are you Kevin Hales?
- Come on, you bastards!

I'm just a pebble on a beach.
We are everywhere.


Don't ever bring Ralph Jarvis
in again. Understand?

Kevin Hales. Can't find a trace.
Might've been farmed out to a nick.

You won't be seeing him today.
Hanged himself.

I'm keen to avoid an investigation.

You're filthy and rotten!

A quick reminder, Drakey. I am one of
the good guys and you are on my side.

You let an officer die,
and you had Hales bumped off too.

If I find one man
feathering his own nest

by so much as one bent penny,
I will destroy him.

You're a cop.

- You know about Operation Rose.
- Maybe your exit route.

- Hang in there, Mac.
- Operation Rose...

It's coming.

Things are getting
a bit tasty round here.



The doctor got the bullet out.
You're going to be OK.

He said if you get plenty of rest,

and if there are no complications,
you're going to wake up.

You're going to be fine.




Do you want a biscuit, ma'am?

A biscuit?

No, I, erm, dozed off.

This is a stakeout,
not a midnight feast at Malory Towers.

- Pillow fights and gym knickers, eh?!
- Shake a leg, boys.

Informant has it
something big's going off,

and I am not referring to Ray's
unsavoury teenage fantasies.

Here you are, Guv. Shaz made it.

Not enough sugar. Or milk. Or tea.

Target on site, moving your way.

Ray, your team from the side,
Chris, yours from the back.

Once in position, await my orders.

- Three Bears. Set?
- Set.

I'm going to wake up.

- Well, it's about bloody time.
- Yep, if there are no complications.

You're staying here.

No, I'm fine, I just dozed off.

I'm not carrying a dead weight.
You can man the radio.

- Or woman it, whatever you prefer.
- Fine.

All I'm saying is,
you'll miss me more than you know.

Well, I think we'll manage.

Daddy Bear in position.

Big Bear set.

Baby Bear ready.

Right, over here, mate.

Go, go, go, go!

Ray! Ray! Ray!

If one of you so much as blinks,
I'll cut his throat so wide,

- he'll be using his tongue for a tie.
- Let 'em go.

Let 'em go!

Say hello to Mummy Bear.

Get me out!
Get me out!

- Go on then. Say it.
- Do you want a hand, mate?

My name is Alex Drake.

I've been shot, and that bullet
has taken me back in time.

Now I'm lost in 1982.

All I can do is fight and search

and stay alive.

Because somehow
I will find a way home.

- What are you doing?
- Digging him out.

We want a body, not a plate of dog food.
Use a ruddy chisel.

- Guv, that'll take ages.
- You better get started then.

I haven't had my turn yet.

On you go, boys.

All yours.

The site manager's here.
Michael Lafferty.


You've got a meaningful
bowel movement on the way

or you're about to say,
"It's probably nothing, but..."

Don't be ridiculous.

It probably is nothing, but...

Doesn't it seem a coincidence we get
a tip-off, then drugs and a body?

That dealer was
as surprised as we were.

Yeah. You're right, yeah.

Just keep it simple.

The sooner I get this wrapped up,
the sooner I get to go home.

The concrete delivery was late, so we
poured those foundations last thing.

How secure is the site at night?

Not very. We're still
stripping out this part.

So anybody can just wander in?

Those druggies did. If I'd have
known they were using my site as...

- What about the body?
- Some pisshead on the nick.

That's what I reckon. You know, we've
got "Keep out" signs all over the shop.

I'm not going to get building
down here, am I?

Not my department, mate.

All right. How long are
you going to close us down?

Every lost day has
a knock-on effect,

this development is going to transform
the docks. Delays are expensive.

Forgive me if our little investigation
costs Sir Henrington Arse-Twat

a year's subscription
to his private members' club!

We'll let you know.

Strange it should all end
on some silly accident.

Still, maybe that's the point.
Sometimes bad things just happen.

There doesn't have to be a reason.

All I have to do now is try not to
over-complicate things.


What does this say?

We focused more on anatomy rather
than languages at medical school.

- Something Slavic, I'd say.
- No wallet, no ID.

Prints came up a blank too.
Can we go now?

Log it as accidental death.

Slip into something skimpy
and join us for a bottle

or two of Asti Spumante
to celebrate Skip's birthday.

- Something skimpy?
- It's supposed to be a party.

Yes, it's a celebration. If you're
going to go, go out in a lovely dress.

That's the ticket.

No point having a female DI
if you're not going to flash a bit...

- It's not an accident.
- What?!

Oh, I'm sorry, does that interfere
with your pressing social engagement?

Compressed fracture of the skull
indicates blunt-force trauma,

not consistent with a fall.

Bruising and abrasions to the face

suggest a succession of severe blows,
and this, here,

what do these marks
look like to you?

- Links. Chain links.
- A ruddy big heavy chain.

Must've weighed him down
and thrown him in.

It's hard to tie a knot in a chain
that big. Must've slipped off his ankle.

You'll probably find it at
the bottom of your very deep pit.

Murder. Bugger.

Sod it. Always time for a party.

Deal with this tomorrow.

Happy birthday, dear Skipper

Happy birthday to you!

- Buon Compleanno.
- Prego!

Thanks. Thanks a lot.

I don't know what to say!

Maybe I could say a few words?


Viv, he's not just our skipper,

he's the linchpin

at the heart of a group of people who
have become really very special to me

over time.

And I think it's very important
at occasions like this

to let people know
your real feelings about them.

And as I might not be with you
for very much longer,

I just wanted to say that,

well, that I love you.

Each and every one of you.
I love you.

So, bon voyage!

Sod the lot of you!

- Happy birthday.
- Watch out for that big stick, ma'am!

So, skimpy enough?

It's a start.


I think you owe me
a thank you, don't you?

For coming to your rescue.

I did not need rescuing.

The Guv had the situation
under complete control(!)

Oh, yes, he was going to bleed
on him till he begged for mercy!

- You're a lucky boy.
- I know.

- And she's a lucky girl.
- Is she?

Yeah, she is.

I think we should put your cousins
with my godmother.

The Bentons?

Tell her not to wear a necklace.
Or any jewellery at all, in fact.

And not to carry any cash.

They're not that bad. Not really.

What about me?

Oh, Alice and Elizabeth, lovely!

Yeah, they are lovely.
Alice is 80.

- They're my great-aunts.
- They're very nice.

The whole point of a wedding
is to slip the bridesmaid

a quickie before she gets all weepy
and throws up all over her dress!

- What's that?
- It's the plan for the reception.

Aren't I supposed to be there?

No, that's the top table, Guv.

Reserved for parents of the couple.

I'm a damn sight more of
a father to this lad. And her.

Father, mother, brother, uncle,
highly-respected elder.

Family, eh? I do love a wedding.

- All right, Guv?
- I need a drink.

Come on!

The bullet's out. It's bloody out.
It's time to go home.

Good morning, and a very warm
welcome from all of us...

Buck up, we've a murder to solve.

I tracked down my informant. Much as
it pains me, I think you might be right.

No, no, I'm not right, I'm wrong.

It doesn't have to be complicated.

- It's too much of a coincidence.
- Who's your informant, Guv?

DCI Hunt?

PC Summers.

This fine, upstanding young plod
with the uncanny sense of timing.

My office.

I got wind that something serious
was going to happen last night

but I didn't know
anything about a body.

- Why not take it to your Sergeant?
- It's not always that simple.

It's a question of trust.

I know I might be putting my job on
the line, but word is you're straight,

totally kosher.

Apart from not being Jewish
and the fact that, in my case,

Sgt Rock is 100% intact,
in case you were wondering...

I'm as kosher as a rabbi at
a matzo party. You can talk here.


He's running every scam in the book.
Treats his workers like animals.

Pays them way below the rate and taxes
back the little he does give them.

- Drugs?
- Wouldn't put it past him.

If he'd make a profit out of it.


If someone died on that site, it's a
fair bet Michael Lafferty is behind it.

What have you got against him?

Just that he's the kind of villain
I joined up to put away.

Thank you for bringing this
to my attention. Dismissed.


Look, you won't...?

I mean, you won't
tell anyone I came?

Thank you, Constable.

Seems like a good lad.

- What the hell are you doing?!
- What are you doing here?

I told the DCI, I thought...

I'm finally about to get out,
and you show up.

It's a coincidence too far.
Do you know me?

I-I'm sorry.

What are you doing here?

I don't know what you mean.

Maybe you don't. Maybe you do.

Either way, I know about you.

Got those photos of the body.
Look at that.

- Builder's hands.
- You think he worked on site?

Very interesting.

Get your coat.

Look, I got dozens of men
working different jobs

on four different sites,
I see different faces every day.

That bloke, he does look familiar,
but I couldn't swear.

What about your employee records?

This is the building trade.

What about this tattoo?

Could be Czech or Polish.

Oh, yeah? Got a load of them
working on site there.

Miserable bastards.
Can't half graft, though.

Maybe I should get a warrant,
give this place a good old going over.

If I was on the fiddle, do you honestly
think I'd be running a site this big?

I think running a site this big
would give you more opportunities.

Well, check 'em. Receipts,
invoices, delivery notes.

Every brick signed and sealed for,
every bloody one.

Go on, check the lot. I don't mind,
you've got the time to waste.

My reputation is my job.

I get a bad name, I don't work.
Who's spreading this bollocks about?

PC Martin Summers.

Oh, that figures, doesn't it?

- That's just dandy.
- You know him, do you?

If he's the same PC Summers who
came here fishing for a backhander,

- then yes, I know him.
- What kind of a backhander?

I'm sure you know the kind.

"100 a week or you'll be getting regular
visits from my colleagues and me."

- And look what the cat dragged in.
- What are you saying?

That your murder investigation has
lost us time and cost us thousands.

Maybe I should have paid
PC Summers what he wanted, yeah?

What if Summers set this murder up?

I told him
I'd keep his name out of it.

This is exactly
the kind of thing he'd do.

- Frame Lafferty to...
- To what?

Don't know, but he's up to something.
He's calculating, he's manipulative.

- He's dangerous, is what he is.
- Seemed like a decent copper to me.

You know him?

- Dawid. That's his name.
- Where's he from?

Great, thanks very much
for your help(!)

They won't talk here, not while
Lafferty's got them all under his thumb.

We've only Summers' word,
he's taking backhanders.

According to Lafferty.

As God as my witness, I did not
ask Michael Lafferty for a bribe.

That's not what Lafferty says.

I don't take bent money from anyone.

- Which isn't to say that others don't.
- Be careful what you say, Constable.

This Docklands development,
it's massive.

Lot of people are going to make
a lot of money very quickly.

- There's a lot of money floating about.
- Meaning?

You don't get a job like
Lafferty's on merit.

Got to have friends in the local
community, you know what I mean?

I file a report about the way he treats
his workers, and nothing happens.

I file another. Nothing happens.
And nothing keeps happening.

So now I'm thinking, who are
Lafferty's friends? Who's he paying?

He must have powerful allies.

Because I can't think
of any other reason

why that crooked bastard
isn't behind bars right now.

Sorry, ma'am.

Chris, Ray, bring in all the Polaks
working on Lafferty's site.

You're not falling for
Summers story, are you?

I'm not falling for anything.
Still got a murder to solve.

Guv, he's spinning you a line.
I can't work out his angle yet.

What if he's involved
in Operation Rose?

If that is anything.

What if Mac's dying breath was
leading us up the garden path?

- He died a bitter man.
- Maybe so, but...

Why are you obsessed with bad-mouthing
one of the few decent cops left?

He sounds too good to be true.

He's a copper who's had enough of the
corruption we've been wading through.

- Do you want me to pin these up?
- Yep.

- With your number on it?
- Yeah.

I can't just hang around
waiting for him to make a move.

- Absolutely.
- I've left him my number.

- Thrown him a challenge.
- Right.

Shaz, will you screen my calls?

And if he does leave a message,
I want it word for word.

Summers is behind this case.

I don't know how, but he is.
I'm going to take the initiative.

Ray, he flew Spitfires.

Spitfires. World War II.

I don't care if he flew round
the world with his donkey,

just get a name and address.

Our victim's got a wife in Poland.

Tell her someone's playing plaster
casters with her husband.

No, I did it last time.

Yeah, well, you're so... sensitive.

Come on.

I'll toss you for it. Chris.

We needn't have bothered
digging Dawid up.

As far as the wife's concerned, death's
too good for him. Something else.

Tomascz, one of the Polaks,
didn't turn up for work today.

Turns out him and Dawid
didn't get on too well.

You got an address for him?

Bring him in.

Tomascz, hello, mate.

Oh, my bloody foot!

- Murderer.
- I didn't kill Dawid.

- Who did?
- Why should I tell you?

If you don't talk, you won't see
daylight again, let alone bloody Poland!

- He's the man you want.
- Why?

The freedom
you're so proud of in the west

is freedom that allows people
like him to act as they do.

He pays us less money
than the English.

Then he makes us pay
for the tools we use.

If we want to smoke, take a break, take
a piss, he makes us pay for that too.

If you don't like it,
shin your way back up the Berlin Wall.

Dawid said he would make things
better for us here.


He told me he knew something.

Something about Lafferty. Something
big that would bring him down.

- What?
- I don't know.

It wasn't safe to tell me. But he went
to see him. The night he was killed.

We found this note
in Dawid's possessions.

What does it say?

There's some numbers.

A date? File reference?

It's a poem. By Mickiewicz.

He is very famous in Poland.

A great poet.

Just a poem.

He's not a murderer, Guv.

I think he's genuine.

The one thing that makes me think you're
not hopelessly and hormonally wrong

is that he's telling us the same thing
about Lafferty as PC Summers.

Changing your mind about him?

He's a good copper.
I know one when I find one.

Shaz, were there any calls?

One or two, ma'am.

Several people were
looking for Mr Hugh Jarse.

And it turned out that Mike Rotch
was quite popular too.

Five or six had chronic asthma,

and one man had some
very imaginative suggestions.

You did want them word for word.

Oh, God, sorry, Shaz.
What are people like?

There was one caller though,
wouldn't leave his name,

just said he wanted to meet you.
There's the details.

- What are you doing here?
- I thought that you wanted...

- It was you who left the message?
- What message?

Someone left a message to meet them
here, I don't know, I thought...

That wasn't you?

I got the same message.

- What would he want with you?
- Who?

How could you possibly know?
You're not him yet.

- I really don't understand what's...
- I need your help with something.

I need to track somebody down.

This is going to sound
completely ridiculous.

You don't have to believe it,
but you have to know it.


You are not the only you
in this world.

Good evening.

Martin Summers. Nice to meet you.

You expected us to disappear

in a puff of smoke?

Matter meets antimatter, time
imploding on itself, that sort of thing

Who are you?


You set this whole thing up, then?
The drug drop, the body?

You knew it would be here?

Very good. I knew you were
the right woman for the job.

- Is this the guy you're looking for?
- I think I probably am.

You can't do this.
You can't change history.

- Really?
- No. No.

This is the place where you
find out how things really were.

You get insight into yourself,
into your life.

You can't change things, they still
happen as they were going to.

I don't think you're right there,

- Oh, my God!
- See?

Why be good when
the bad guys have so much fun?

Now look at you.

A man's dead.

The gun that killed him
is in your hand.

Complicates things rather,
doesn't it?

How do you sort this mess out, Alex?

Can't go home until you do.

Bye now.

I'm sorry, sorry.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry!

You could have warned me.

The bomb, you could have saved me.

- No, y-you can't change history.
- Really?

- Yes, I tried. I tried so hard.
- Not hard enough.

- Where is it?
- I don't know.

- It's your bloody job to know!
- I've got the only key,

everyone who wants access
logs in, you can't expect me...

I expect you to do your job!

Where the hell have you been?
Where'd you hide it?


The note. Doctor Zhivago's
precious poem.

- Where is it?
- I don't know, I'm not...

I thought I'd get a proper

Only I find it's disappeared.
Gone. Vanished.

The only people in there
in the last 24 have been CID.

- Look at the log book.
- Come on then.

Richards, Roberts, Sullivan... Ah...

What is it?

PC Summers. You said it was
only CID. Get hold of him, now.

Last night, 2300.

Police Constable Summers.

Devious little bastard.
The worst thing is, you were right.

It's impossible.
It can't be Summers.

This signature. I saw him, he was
signing something, and this isn't his.

Summers has gone AWOL. Missed his
shift last night, didn't call in.

Well, whose bloody
signature is it, then?

It can't be Summers. Either of them.

Someone forged it. Someone with
easy access to the evidence room.

Whoever took it,
why would they want a poem?

Who says it was a poem?

Maybe Tomascz was too scared
to tell us what it really said.

I need your help.

No, I'm going back and you
can't stop me.

I was almost there.
What have you done?

Surely you don't believe
that you are going to wake up

just because they managed
to get the bullet out?

How do you know,

how could you possibly know?

This is my world, this is my life.
Who are you?

The only man
who really understands, Alex.

You're there, aren't you?

You're in the hospital.

I'm here,

and I'm there.

- You're just like me.
- I'm the only man you can really trust.

Then why won't you let me go home?


I wish I could have
spent more time with you.

But I thought I couldn't change

And I... and I tried.

But I couldn't and,

I should have saved you
and I didn't.

And now I don't
know how to get home.

You'll find a way.

Will I?

Because you have to.

Because you're a mother too.

Looks like I was right.
Tomascz was lying.

I'll meet you at the hospital.
Intensive care.

He's gonna wish he had
shinned back up the Berlin wall.

It was hit and run. Should be dead,
by rights. He's a tough bastard.

So Tomascz knew it wasn't a poem.

No sign of Summers.

Both of them put
one man in the frame.

Lafferty. But how could he
know we'd brought Tomascz in?

Someone in our station told him.
The same bastard that stole the note.

Someone in CID. Someone on my team.

You thinking about Mac?

About Mac, about Kevin Hales,
about every investigation

that's gone tits up
as far back as I can remember.

- What are you going to do?
- I don't know.

Go home. Get changed.
I need you at your best.

Something skimpy?

- I hurt me bloody foot.
- You're still going on about it?

I could have
gone on the sick with that.

But you still bravely soldiered on.

- Oh, Raymondo.
- Oh, get round your desk, you.

You're telling me you found 15 brand
new leather jackets in a skip?

Do you want me to believe
that this is your colour?

Put you down as no fixed abode then.

That do?

No, we've had the ballistics,
I'm talking about the SOC report.

That's OK, I can wait.

Listen, you make sure
you wear something nice, eh?

Yeah. We'll go
to that restaurant, yeah.

- What we doing tonight?
- I haven't got a clue.

That's more like it.
What's she like?

- Karen? She's great.
- She's great?

Dead funny.
Really nice per... sonality!

I like that in my women.
A good per... sonality!

As most of you know,
a key witness in the investigation

into the murder of Dawid Czarnecki
has been seriously injured,

in what appears to be
a hit and run incident.

It has also come to my attention
that someone on my watch,

very possibly somebody in this room

misappropriated a vital piece of
evidence, jeopardising the entire case.

That won't do.

That will not do at all.

And when I find out
who is responsible,

I will be very very angry.


You know I wouldn't go
behind your back.

It's all right, Raymondo.
I know I can trust you.

That hit and run
was attempted murder.

The lad knew what was
on the missing note.

Something else.

I've got a file. Physical evidence
that could nail Lafferty.

But I can't keep it here,
not at the moment.

It's in a safety deposit box
on Talbot Street. Box number 116.


Just in case I end up
on the wrong end of a car accident.

Right, Guv.

Why me?

I need someone I can
trust absolutely.

Right. Box 114.

Don't write it down.

It's a favour I won't forget, Shaz.

- I don't like secrets, Guv.
- No, nobody does.

- Not even Ray?
- Not even Ray.

You can depend on me, boss.

- No. Not a chance. No way.
- What's wrong with a top hat?

- I'd look a dick.
- Right kind of look, then.

I am not wearing a top hat
or baby-sitting your bloody relatives.

- What is your problem?
- Yeah, what's wrong mate?

You tell me.

- What's that supposed to mean?
- Told her how you've paid for the ring?

I have, Shaz knows
I borrowed the money.

Watch what you're saying.

You're the one in the funny
handshake brigade.

- Well, aren't you?
- Yes, he is.

- What's that got to do with anything?
- Favours.

You rub my back,
I'll rub yours, brother.

Whose back you been rubbing, Ray?

- I could ask you that.
- I beg your pardon?

She's in and out
the evidence room every 2 minutes.

Who knows what
she'd do for a quick thrill?

Why don't you get back
to where you come from?

Please, no, no, no stop, please.

Mr Hunt? Mr Hunt!

How do you know Lafferty'll come?

I hope he doesn't.

Do we arrest him?

Not yet.

I wish you'd tell me
what's going on.

If I told you all my little secrets

I wouldn't have
that attractive air of mystery.

I forgot about that.

Take him.

Blue two, Blue three, go.

Hands behind your back.

The paint on Tomascz's body
matches your car.

We also have a witness who saw you
driving in the area at the time.

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

Found it in the pit we found
Dawid Czarnecki. With your prints on it.

- Solicitor.
- You killed him for a piece of paper.

I have no idea what
you're talking about...

You murdered Dawid,

and I have a feeling you are behind

the disappearance of
a damn good police officer!

But what makes me want to crush
your greedy little cockroach head

is that you got to one of mine.

He's trying to kill me!

Lock him up.

You all right?


- What are we doing?
- Waiting.

- What for?
- A traitor.

All right, Guv.


Bloody cold, innit?

What's up?

There's no file.

- What?
- Just an empty mail box.

The number of which someone
passed on to Michael Lafferty.

The number 112,

not 116,

not 118.

The number 112.

The number I entrusted to you.

- I don't understand.
- Neither do I, Chris.

Tell me you didn't do it.

Look me in the eyes and tell me
you didn't do it and I'll believe you.

We can forget about it,

if you can tell me you didn't do it.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

How did it start?

Was it the engagement ring?
Is that how you paid for it?

It was just a loan.
I never thought...

- It was just a loan.
- Who from?

A bloke Ray knew.

He couldn't help me,
but pointed me to someone who could.

"No problem,
pay me back when you can."

How much?

Five hundred.

I wanted the best.

- I didn't want to let her down.
- Did you pay him back?

A bit.
He didn't seem to mind, you know?

He didn't, put pressure on me.

I had so much else to think about,
the wedding, and all that,

it didn't seem...

It didn't seem that important.

- I got a call.
- Who from?

He didn't give a name. He just
said he knew I'd do him a favour.

But you knew it was about the money?

What did he ask you to do?

Lose a file.

What file?

A prison transfer file.

Whose file?

Chris? Whose file?

Whose file, Chris?

Kevin Hales's file.

It's not as if it was a big thing,

wasn't passing information or planting
evidence or anything, it was just...

just don't find it.

I didn't know it would be
so important.

But if we'd known where
Kevin Hales was being held

we could have got to him
before Mac did.

Before he was murdered, Chris.

I didn't know that. I didn't know.

Did he pay you?

Fifty quid.
An envelope through me letter box.

I thought that was it.
I thought it was finished.

I'm so sorry.


You told Mac
that we'd arrested Jarvis?

A nonce.

I thought...

I thought, right,

what I thought was,

I'll go along with it

and I'll find out who's doing this,

who's making me,

and I'll go to the Guv,

and I'll tell him
and he'll make it stop.

But you didn't tell him.

It'd be all right for a while,

then I'd get a call.

"Lose a file. Shred a file.

"Move this record,
fill in the wrong address.

"Not that phone number, this one."

The more envelopes came,
the more I couldn't stop.

I was in deep, boss.

I was in deep.

Did you take that note
from the evidence room?

Did you forge PC Summers' signature?

Did you tell Lafferty
that Tomascz had read it?

Not directly. A voice on the phone.

If I didn't tell them who you'd
brought in, they'd tell you about,

about what I... about everything.

I didn't want to do it. I didn't.

They gave me a number to call.
Told me to think about it.

And you called it.

And you gave them Tomascz's name.

And he ends up in intensive care.

I'm so sorry, Guv.

I am so sorry.

I've still got it, that note.

The one from the evidence room.

I was supposed to get rid of it.
I was supposed to shred it, burn it...

but I knew this was something else.

Something different.

Where is it?

The man you called
to give Tomascz's name?

The man who gave you the money?

I'll need you to trace the address.

You, stay here. You don't move.

Shaz, get this translated now.

Call it through.

That note must be about this site,
those numbers at the top.

Map reference?
What, X marks the spot?

Keep it simple.
No need to over-complicate things.

Drake, come on!

Right, got it.

- What was that number?
- 550/...


Thanks, Shaz, great.

This makes more sense,
it's the full translation.


Well, if X really does mark the spot,
there's nothing to find.

Second development stage,
south of the red building.

- That.
- Near the demolition site.

- There. But this...
- Isn't on the map? What's in it?

Something Lafferty
was prepared to kill for.

That'd do it.

Show us what you got?
Get them in storage.

Phone number.
I got that address for you.

Thanks, Chris.

I'm here.

Oh, my God.

In here.

- What's that?
- Warrant card.

I wish to offer my resignation
with immediate effect.

No. You don't get off that easy.

I want you to stay a copper

and know every second
of every minute of every day

the true depth of your
full betrayal of the force,

of Shaz, Ray,


Jail isn't your sentence, Chris.

I am.

You are my team.

As far as you are concerned,
I am judge, jury, and executioner.

Detective Constable Christopher Skelton
made a mistake that he deeply regrets.

It ends here.
You don't like it, you come to me.

You don't take it to the Super
or to the Yard, you come to me.

Shaz, I am so sorry.

I just...

I just want... I just wanted...

I just want you.

Right, you need a drink.

I never thought...

It's all shit, isn't it?

Yeah, it is.

You and me, Bolly.

You and me.

Resync: Xenzai[NEF]

Shake a leg. Something big's about to
happen I want my team ahead of the game.

Alex, I'm your surgeon.

- Surgeon.
- There's an infection.

It's kill or cure time, Alex.

- I am in control.
- This woman wants you.

We met about a year ago.

- No recollection.
- You kissed me.

- Time's running out for me.
- For me.

- This blag'll go off within 24 hours.
- Go away.

I think they got in touch
with Chris again.

What happened?
They want to use me on a blag.

All units, I have eyeball
on the bricks.

Under starter's orders.

Resync: Xenzai[NEF]