DCI Banks (2010–2016): Season 2, Episode 3 - Dry Bones That Dream - Part 1 - full transcript

You'll want overshoes, DCI Banks,
it's like an abattoir in there.

Have frontal lobe on my instep.

As greetings go, DI Morton,
I've had warmer.

Morning.

I'm thinking of starting a campaign -
anyone convicted of a serious crime

committed during anti-social hours
automatically gets another five
years.

I'm sure your husband would agree.

Victim's daughter said the shot was
fired around midnight,

it took her four hours to get to a
phone, so we had a lie-in.

Who found the body?

Ooh, that bad?
Pretty bad. Morning, Boss.



You'll need.
Overshoes, yes I know.

Weapon?

Shotgun, probably sawn off.

Definite ID?

Keith Andrew Rothwell, freelance
accountant.

Why hasn't that been bagged?

We were waiting. For?

I like to be sure every scrap of
intel is extracted on scene, before
any goes to forensics.

I don't bag until the last minute.

Lives here with his wife. Last night
was their 25th wedding anniversary.

And also the daughter, Hannah,
16, I spoke to her briefly.

Happy anniversary.

I trust we're circulating a
description of the suspect. Or do you
prefer to wait on that too?

DS Chapman put it out an hour ago.
What there was of it. You can call
me Win, you know.



He was a big man, smelt musty,
barely spoke. Sounds a bit like
you, sir.

Techies on their way, Win.

So how much do accountants earn
these days?

No sign of robbery.

Hannah says not, but we'll have
Mrs Rothwell verify it when she
gets up.

Gets up? Doctor says she wasn't
ready to talk to us. Requested
sedatives.

Though we'll need a good photo of
Mr Rothwell.

Preferably from when he still
had a head.

I'd wait.

Hannah Rothwell, DCI Banks,
who I thought was resting.

Mum wanted me to keep an eye
on things. Sorry, Hannah.

Sorry for your loss.

Do you remember what time
the doorbell rang, Hannah?

Ten-ish, I thought dad was on his
phone, as usual,

and mum had forgotten her keys,
so I answered it.

And then he pushed me inside.

Tied me up.

And put tape on my mouth.

Did he do anything else?

Just sat there, waiting.

And then he tied mum up, and dragged
dad outside.

And it went very quiet, until...

Hannah, can you think of any reason
why someone would want to hurt
your dad?

Not really, though I didn't know him
that well,

I mean we weren't exactly...
He works a lot.

Worked.

You'd better talk to mum, it's
usually just me and her and...

Tom when he's around.
Tom?

My brother, he's travelling across
America, but we're not exactly sure
where he is, at the moment.

So you'd - Better talk to your mum.
Don't worry, we will.

Morning, both.
Morning, Ron.

Another day.
Another decapitated accountant.

Roadblocks have been set up on
approaches to the airport,

mainline stations, and major routes
out of the area.

Extra resources have been made
available, so anything you need,
just let me know.

A few more hours in bed wouldn't go
amiss. Those old bones starting to
creak, Inspector?

You don't care about my body, you pay
me for my mind.

You joining us for the briefing, Ron?
No, but I do want to be kept fully
updated on progress, please.

Are you going to personalise this
a bit?

Why?

Well - We're looking to get one of
those interactive white boards now.

Yeah? Great.

Now? Now that we have a resident
intelligence expert keeping us
up-to-date.

If it ain't broke... New day, Alan.
We have to wipe the sleep from
our eyes, and embrace it.

Can't afford to get left behind,
isn't that right, DI Morton? Yes,
sir.

Where are these extra resources
coming from?

I've learnt not to look a gift horse
in the mouth.

And neither should you.

Before, and after.

Gut reactions, what does this look
like to you?

Sort of like a jelly baby, after its
head's been bitten off.

'A hit.'

'Blowing someone's head
clean off with a shotgun is not as
easy as it looks,

you need to know you're doing. So
the question is,

why would someone take out
a contract on a Yorkshire accountant?

'Depends if he's any good,
or not.'

All right, lets start with the
current client list.

There's not even a parking ticket
on the system, he's been freelance
for the last five years,

20 before that he was at Hatchard
& Pratt, on the high street.

Get down there. We need to find out
who Keith Rothwell was,

and who benefits from his death.

And if he really bought that house
by filling out tax returns.

We need to look at the whole family,
so we need to locate Tom Rothwell
asap.

Helen. Well, I'd like the Rothwells
online history for the last three
months,

including what social media
the kids have been using.

Quick result on this - Superintendent
McLaughlin might even put a few quid
behind the bar.

Should anyway, we need to welcome
the new arrival.

Oh, no. I don't like pubs.

Banks.

On my way.

SOCO have found something.

This way, this way.

Yeah, this is a very fast moving
enquiry.

At this stage I would simply urge
anyone with any information

to contact the police immediately.
Thank you.

That's the only comment I'm prepared
to make at this stage, thank you
very much.

I'll just get on, thank you.

See, I'm one of those weirdoes
who only uses his phone
to phone people.

Right.
You do all that, do you?

Social media.
Mmm.

You're not twittering now, are you?

Tweeting? No.

Only when I'm doing something,
or I'm with someone
really interesting.

Well, none of the stuff that I've
seen qualifies as interesting.

Bored people typing, 'I'm quite
hungry', when they could be making...

But it's about connections, DCI
Banks, and that's what we do, isn't
it?

We find them, we make sense of
them.

Now that piece you just did to
camera, it's already being watched
on various platforms worldwide.

Can we drop the DCI Banks from this
platform, please?

Boss is fine, or Alan, in the pub.

I don't - You don't like pubs.

It's wadding, once part of
the shotgun cartridge.

Obviously you can buy them,
but you can make your own.

And this is not commercial, looks
like it might have been made from
a magazine.

So why do it yourself?
To save money,

or because you're a gun enthusiast.

You got a magnifying glass?

Is that a...?
I think it is.

And that could be a -
Penis, DCI Banks.

First time I've seen one through
a magnifying glass. You?

I'm more interested in the
sub-machine gun standing next to it.

Gained entry to the house,
around 11pm, last night.

Police appealed for potential
witnesses to come forward.

This is a very fast-moving enquiry.
At this stage, I would simply urge

anyone with any information to
contact the police immediately.

Thank you, that'll be all.

That's the only comment I'm prepared
to make at this stage,
thank you very much.

That's it. Can we just get on?
Thank you.

Boss.

Anything? Deliberately locked files
on this one.

We've taken everything.

Well, liaise with DI Morton please.
Sure.

Well, I hope you're taking a note
of everything that you take.

I really don't think there is
anything else.

You can't come up with a single word
about a man you worked with for
two decades?

I've given you one.
Apart from ordinary.

Um... Keith was a bit tight, truth be
told, with money.

Uh... but the fact is there is
nothing to say about him, he kept
himself to himself and uh...

I expect he had a lot to put up with.
Why?

Have you met Mary?

She's very particular. Proud, I
suppose you'd say.

At least she gets adjectives.

Did you socialise with the
Rothwells?

Not really. Not at all after he...
after he left.

Uh, but I've known Mary most of my
life. Mr Hatchard, our founder,

my uncle's partner, he was her dad.

Is that how Keith got the job?
Through Mary?

Nothing wrong with that, is there?
There you go, Keith's client file
from the time he left us.

Why did he leave you?

You'll find out anyway, won't you?

He was asked to go, in the end.

Sacked, I supposed you'd say.

The restaurant was average,
it was Keith's choice.

He had carbonara, which was unusual,
he usually had Bolognese.

I had a lasagne. We're more interest
in last night's events

after you arrived home, Mrs Rothwell.

I thought Hannah had covered that.

Can I ask you then about your
husband's business dealings?

You can, but I don't know anything.
Still. Keith was an accountant,

he didn't... Well, I didn't pretend
to be interested, and he didn't
expect me to.

What about aside from
the accountancy?

Are you aware of any sidelines that
he may have had?

If you're looking for skeletons,
my husband's cupboard will
prove disappointing.

He had no vices, he hardly drank,
never even smoked.

We're simply trying - You're
wondering if this was all paid for
legitimately.

Well, Keith was good at what he
did, and he was always...

careful with money.

He'd never even holiday abroad,
he preferred the Yorkshire coast.

What about you, Mrs Rothwell, were
you satisfied with that?

We hadn't been away together for
years.

Do you expect this to make
the newspapers?

Yes. Yes, we hope so. Given that we
are trying to catch the killer.

You've managed to gather yourself
remarkably quickly, Mrs Rothwell.

And you consider yourself a
sensitive reader of people,
Detective?

Only Hannah said you first spoke
to her whilst wiping her father's
brain off your shoe.

Shame you weren't awake to look
after her. DI Morton!

Excuse us.

It's worth remembering that,
irrespective of anything else,

she has just lost her husband,
and Hannah her father.

Why don't you make sure the local
intelligence gathering is being
handled properly?

I don't call going door to door
intelligence gathering.

Them make up a name for it, and I'll
meet you back at the station.

I'm sorry about that, Mrs Rothwell.

Is this postcard from your son?
May I?

Yes.

Is this the last communication that
you had from him?

Yes.

And how long has he been away?
Three-and-a-half months.

18 years old, travelling on his own,
you must miss him.

Of course.
And your husband?

Well, Keith was never much for
discussing his feelings, but yes,
I imagine so.

So Tom leaving his father's name off
this, sent ten days ago, is just an
oversight?

You'd have to ask him.

We will, when we find him.

You seem very protective of
your son.

Very protective of both my
children, Inspector.

Despite what some may think.

He hated him.

They hated each other, as far as
I could see. You sure you don't
want a drink?

No, I'd like to get this done as
quickly as possible, for your
daughter's sake, thanks.

That's all I know, really.

I only cleaned there a few months.

But long enough to witness regular
arguments, between Mr Rothwell
and his son.

Hear 'em, anyway.

You couldn't help it.

And were they about anything in
particular?

Don't know, it wasn't like I had time
to stand and listen.

I was too scared to stop for a
second. Everyone up there was scared.

Scared of what?

Of her. Mrs Rothwell.

You felt sorry for him. It was like
he was trying to keep out of the way
all the while.

In his own house.

Ready for an update?
You're keen.

Anything on the wadding, Ken?
Within the hour, boss. We're still
waiting on the techies too.

And I thought the whole point of
computers was that they were faster
than this.

Right, Keith Rothwell was notoriously
mean, but there had to be something
more.

I strongly suspect you'll find
specialist porn, or reference to it,
on his machines.

It could well be that that's where he
was making his real money.

Which now all goes to Mary Rothwell.
If pushed I'd say either she,

or the son, or both of them, hired
our shooter,

who used that wadding to make
some kind of point.

You think that Rothwell
had it in him to get involved
in something illegal?

Win? He was sacked from
H&P for fiddling timesheets.

Could have been stuck off if Mary
hadn't stepped up and asked
Daddy's firm

to keep quiet and protect his
reputation.

So, almost certainly domestic,
possibly with a bit of dirty money.

That's my instinct.

I mean, America is awake now, so
it's just a matter of time before we
find Tom Rothwell.

Could well be a long day, but I
reckon we'll have a result by the end
of it.

Excellent work, Inspector. You
going along with this, I presume.

Well, we haven't really...
DCI Banks - A bit formal.

Settling in all right?

Yes, very well. In fact, it was
Helen, doing good old-fashioned
door-to-door enquiries

who confirmed Mary Rothwell hadn't
exactly been truthful to us about
relations between father and son.

Helen, what have you got there?
It's from the press office.

They've had a call about the
photograph, in the first editions
of the Post.

Of Keith Rothwell?
The man we found in the garage.

Keith Rothwell. Not according to a
woman in Leeds.

She say that this is someone called
Robert Calvert.

It must be difficult for you.

Moving to a different department,
getting used to new people.

Say if it was me, I'd just say,
"You're not fitting in very well,
are you?"

Have you heard from DS Cabbot?

Yes, she's doing well.

You must miss her.

Of course.

But we all have to carry on,
or else...

Annie's a good colleague.

And what exactly makes a good
colleague, do you think?

DCI Banks.

You actually want me to tell you
how to fit in?

Well, um... Suffer a trip to the pub
for a start.

Using nicknames is good,
or at least don't refer to your
colleagues

by their rank all the time.

Crack a joke or two, preferably at
someone else's expense.

Buy a round of coffees, it's really
not...

rocket science.

What's this?

It was found in Rothwell's jacket.

He put spent matches back in the
box.

Turned round the other way from
the live ones.

Mary Rothwell wasn't wrong when she
said that he was careful.

She also said that he didn't smoke.

In her 70s, smells of sprouts,
only talks to cats.

Oh, hi. Yeah, come in.

Yeah, it's him.

Robert Calvert? Yeah.
You're absolutely sure.

We were in a relationship
for six months.

So, have they printed
the wrong picture?

We gave it to them, Miss Jefferies.
It's Keith Rothwell.

He was shot dead in the early hours
of this morning.

When did you last see him?

About four months ago.

Did you know that he was married?

Not that it would have necessarily
mattered.

Could you describe what he was like?

He was fun, funny.

Adventurous.

Makes sense, his being married.

I travel a lot, and there was a
limit to what we could offer each
other,

maybe that's why it worked.

Except you split up?

Because I got the feeling that I
wasn't the only one, and married or
not,

all I asked was that he was with me
when we were together.

Have you got any photographs of
you together?

No, why?

What do you do, Miss Jefferies?

Play the clarinet, Inspector.

You don't believe me, do you?
That's why you want to see photos.

Where did you meet?

Leeds town hall, at a Tchaikovsky
recital.

Robert loved music.

All different kinds of music.

You played in these concerts?

Yeah.

You've performed at Sydney Opera
House? Yes.

Yeah, I hope to again in a couple of
months. Budapest first. I leave
in a few days.

You didn't strike me as a classical
musician.

Whereas you do strike me as
a policeman.

I thought you lot did courses on not
judging books by their covers.

Is there any reason why you don't
have a very high opinion of us,
Miss Jefferies.

Have you had previous dealings with
the police?

No, but I do tend to try and avoid
people who choose to spend their
days

being suspicious of others.

Ella Fitzgerald.

Wasn't enough that she was a world
class singer, she played the
clarinet. And the trumpet. Yes.

Win, can you give me a minute,
please? Thanks.

He had a flat.

Do you think you could take us there?

Yeah.

Rothwell's computer files have been
unlocked. There's no porn, there's
just pages of numbers and letters.

They're being analysed now, but I
think they are account details.

There's one code that appears on
most of the documents,

NCLF LS1.

There's a solicitor in Leeds,
LS1.

His name's Norcliffe. I thought
while you were in town...

Can you text the address to Helen?
That's great work, Win.

Cheers. Ken wants to talk to you.

Dirty squad have sent a sample
of the material that
the wadding came from.

It's Dutch hard-core, pretty niche.

Gynaecology meets automatic
weapons, and it's at least
ten years old.

I mean, most of this stuff you can
get online now, apparently.

Contact cyber crime, tell them that
you need a list of relevant sites,

and start requisitioning databases.
You want payment details, as well as
user names.

Most men won't give their actual
identities.

I'm sure Ken doesn't need an
intelligence expert to tell him that.

First exotic companions, now gun
porn. Do I look like a sexual
deviant?

Yes. Yes.

Yes.

Win, we also need everything you can
get on a Robert Calvert, please?

Right. And Pamela Jefferies.

Will do.

Thanks, Win.

Right, see you later.

There you go.
Thank you.

It's probably best not to touch
anything.

He had a complete tin ear.

He loved listening.

Hmm.

Mr Norcliffe is not in any kind of
trouble, is he?

Would you be surprised if he was?
Of course.

It's Robert.

And was this Robert as well?

And was he man who left his CDs in a
mess, or one who put spent matches
back in the box.

You don't seem very worried,
Mrs Graves, considering you haven't

heard from Mr Norcliffe since
yesterday.

He's the boss, he does what he likes.

And does he often do what he likes?

He's out of the office a lot, yes.
And you don't always ask where he is
even though you're his secretary?

It's why I'm his secretary.
So this is nothing unusual?

He does answer his phone to me,
usually.

But he hasn't today?

Faster on the train,
and the music's better.

Did you see any CDs or records at
the Rothwells?

Why?

You left a search team at
Norcliffe's?

Yeah, and we're running his mobile
numbers now. Nobody honest needs
three phones.

Also...

Alan, I believe you already know
DCI Stuart Burgess from SOCA.

Yes.

And this is DI Helen Morton,
joined us recently...

From regional Intelligence, we've
heard good things.

Tell us about Norcliffe, Alan.

No sightings of him after he left his
regular restaurant, three hours
before the murder.

Searching is underway, although
obviously he has a start on us,

locating him is now a top priority
alongside our gunman, and Tom
Rothwell.

We've found him, I was about to
tell you, in San Diego,
through Facebook.

He's been advised to return.

You'll have to explain to Banksy
what Facebook is.

I assume this is where the extra
resources came from.

So why are SOCCA sending
people down to the death
of an accountant?

You know who this is,
I presume?

Martin Fleming. Salt-of-the-earth
politician who'd have you believe

MP stands for man of the people.

And subject of a two-year
investigation into serious fraud and
money-laundering of fences.

Don't tell me that you voted for
him.

Of course you did, he's right up
your street.

Everyone's in it for themselves in
the end, Banksy.

You'd know.

It seems that Mr Fleming was at
Cambridge with one Daniel Norcliffe.

Any connection gets flagged up on
our system, including your headless
accountant.

Norcliffe would have needed certain
expertise to set things up for
Fleming.

A non-entity like Rothwell would
have been perfect.

Until he didn't need him anymore.

I don't know. I don't care, for that
matter. We're in it for the big
fish,

we don't need you disturbing the
waters by chasing Norcliffe
and your shooter.

That's why I'm here, make sure you
keep us up-to-date, and stay well
away from Martin Fleming.

As I said, DCI Burgess, we're happy
to cooperate.

Yes, I can see that.

You wouldn't know it, but Banksy and
I are old friends. We trained
together.

Interestingly, he seemed to like me
less and less the more I got
promoted.

At some point Detective Burgess
started hunting personal glory,

rather than real criminals.

Yes, one could never accuse you
of hunting glory. No of fence.

Well, don't worry, we'll give Fleming
a wide berth, but I'll also give him

the benefit of the doubt. Not only
because, given the severity of the
crime

we're investigating...

but also because it's perfectly
possible that he's a corrupt
businessman, and a good MP.

You do realise you've just stormed
out of your own office?

Initial fingerprint comparison
between Calvert's flat and
Rothwell's body.

Perfect match. Looks like we're
chasing the killer of the world's
most interesting accountant.

OK, listen up. I'm heading into
Leeds. DI Morton is in charge in my
absence.

Right, the search of Norcliffe's
property hasn't turned up much.

But SOCA have been working all
night with Rothwell's computer
files.

SOCA? Who called the cavalry?

He's been depositing
considerable sums, offshore,
over a number of years.

All right, how about this? Rothwell
and Norcliffe are working happily
together

then Rothwell starts creaming
money off the top.

Norcliffe finds out that he's
being ripped off, decides he doesn't
need a partner anymore.

So he hires someone to kill Rothwell.

Sorry, sir. Calvert's flat was
broken into overnight. That was the
caretaker.

Apparently they made quite a mess.
All right, Win. Get forensics down
there.

I'll call in while I'm in town, then
you and Helen go to Arkbeck Farm.

Did Mary Rothwell know Norcliffe?
Oh, and I want you to check through
their music collection.

Norcliffe doesn't do criminal cases,
does he?

It might be worth finding out who he
referred them to.

Maybe that's where we'll
find our shooter.

Who says that looking at porn all day
rots your brain?

Obviously makes your hair
fall out, though.

You can't really think that he was
having an affair?

We're not in a position to go into
details, Mrs Rothwell, but there may
several things he kept to himself.

Well, Keith had no imagination
whatsoever.

Except where it came to timesheets,
apparently.

I'll repeat the names. When you're
in a position to reveal what you
think you know about my husband,

I assume I'll be the first to hear
it. Pamela Jefferies. I hope I won't
have to read it in the papers.

No.

Robert Calvert?
I told you once.

We can finish this at the station,
if you prefer? I've never heard of
him.

How about Daniel Norcliffe?

Think about it this time.

Uh, no.

What about your son?

When's your son back?

Tomorrow, for the funeral.

We weren't sure he'd bother, given
what we now know about his
relationship with his dad.

If you had children -
I have.

I look forward to meeting Tom.
Hopefully he's got a better
memory for names.

Ma'am.

It's as though reality doesn't
actually touch her.

Isn't that what money does -
insulates you?

I wouldn't know, it's distinctly
drafty since I bought a house I
couldn't afford.

And a mortgage even a loan shark
wouldn't give you these days.

How old are they? Your kids.

Is that relevant?
No, I suppose not.

Hi.

Do you want some sugar?
No, thank you.

There you go.
Thanks.

I do have some more questions,
I'm afraid. OK.

Did Robert ever talk about
his business dealings?

No.

What about Daniel Norcliffe? Did he
ever mention that name?

Never even told me his real name.

Me and Robert didn't do reality.

So what did you do?

It's important that I try
to understand, or get a sense of why
this careful, controlled man,

would take a huge risk.

What have you come up with so far?

Necessity, I suppose.

I think he felt trapped by
how people saw him,

and perhaps how he saw himself.

And maybe came to realise
that he wasn't actually being
true to who he really was.

He was still controlled, though.
I mean, he must have been,
to keep two lives going.

"Let's keep it in the moment,"
that's what he used to say.

Maybe that's why he loved
music so much, because...

it holds you in the moment.

You know, you remind me of him.

I've got something to show you.

So wherever I am in the world, I
make sure there are two things with
me - my instrument, and this.

This is Ella Fitzgerald singing live
at a club in Hollywood, in the early
sixties.

This is seriously rare.

Yeah, I think I've got a copy of this
on CD. Yeah, me too, and digitally,

but neither of them sound like this.
Nothing could sound like this, that
night was supposed to be on vinyl.

You know what I mean?

I'd love to hear it.

I've got a rehearsal.
Oh, yeah. No, of course.

I'm home tonight, though, if you...

Um... I'm not actually sure.

Take it with you now, and you can
give it back to me it when we
next see each other.

As long as it's before I go to
Budapest.

Hello.

Ah, DC -
You took your time.

I'm not responding to a call.

There's been a break-in.

Some time after our lot left last
night.

Same technique as at Calvert's?

Yeah, I've left forensics down there
but I don't hold out much hope.

Looks like we're not the only ones
searching for Daniel Norcliffe.

Did you get anything from
Pamela Jefferies?

Well, nothing to speak of.

Mary Rothwell seems to think Keith
having an affair was impossible.

She would.
Mind you, he was punching well
above his weight.

Maybe they shared something that went
beyond what Mary Rothwell and others

can understand. The music at
Arkbeck - half her CDs probably came
free with the Sunday papers.

It's exactly what you'd expect.

Is there any particular reason?

I've got the details of that criminal
lawyer that Norcliffe referred
clients to.

I'll get a full client list, and get
DC Blackstone to cross reference it
against the porn data.

Go Banksy.

Did you just call me Banksy?

You said -
Well, don't.

Please.

Not ever.

Tell you what, just e-mail it to me,
yeah?

Well, I'd better phone home Ken.
Looks like we're in for a long
night.

OK, I'm going out for coffee.
Who wants what?

Not for me, thanks.

No, thanks.
Uh...

Uh-uh.
No, thanks.

No, cool, good.

I've got to talk to you.
I don't want any trouble, right,
so you just tell me what I want.

Then I'll be gone.

Why don't you tell me? Because I'm
not leaving until you tell me.

Don't tell me you don't know!

Don't treat me like I'm stupid!

Where is he! Where is he!

Please, please...

Somebody has been following us.

We have to trust each other, and I
know nothing about you.

Things got out of hand,
and I hit him.

You have to come and hear me.
In Budapest? Come with me.

You have to leave now.