Identity (2010): Season 1, Episode 2 - Chelsea Girl - full transcript

I'm bored now. Let's go.

Thanks for letting me crash, Olivia.

Do you ever think about going home?

Let's see. My dad hassling me to get a
job, my stepmother hassling me to like her.

My mum crying about her latest
date wanting to pee on her.

A nightmare.

I know what you think. "Spoilt
bitch. What's she got to moan about?"

You're right. It's pathetic.

Olivia. Olivia. Call me Liv.

I'll miss this place.

So don't move.



My brother's in jail, but
the police are still watching.

A smaller target's easier to miss.

I don't mind.

It's like winter.

It's a shock, but you adapt.

The simple life.

What would you know about the
simple life? More than you, arsehole.

If that's what you want,

maybe it's time to go straight for a while.

Maybe.

I could meet a regular guy with a regular
job, who doesn't disappear for months on end.

You're never going to let
that go, are you? Uh-uh.

I think you've got another woman.

Ah!



Who is your English rose?

I've got to go.

I've got to go. Uh-uh.

I gotta go.

Don't forget to see my brother. Yeah, yeah.

Don't "yeah yeah" me, Brendan. I'll
go and see him tomorrow. I promise.

Wait.

He says your first job
is to get this cleaned.

Erm...

Can I get this back by Friday?

Sorry. My man in Derry has closed
the launderette. Routine repairs.

It's only 200 grand.

I'm sorry.

Can you give me a couple of weeks?
I can wait a couple of weeks.

Did you know a lot of astronauts get
depressed when they come back down to Earth?

Er...I think I vaguely did, sir, yes.

The real decompression
sickness, they call it.

Bloom is absolutely fine, honestly.

You've ruined my segue, Martha.

It is the third time you've
asked about him this week.

He's spent years living the life of
Riley or rather the life of Brendan Shea,

only seeing the inside of an office when
he checks in with his undercover handler.

Do not underestimate...

How difficult it is for him
punching in as plain old John Bloom.

I don't, sir.

Good work on the Caulson case, by the
way. A double murderer no-one knew existed.

Well done. Thank you, sir.

I wake up this morning...
and she's cutting my hair.

What? Yeah, and I'm like,
"What are you doing?"

She starts laughing. She says, "It's
all right. My dad's a hairdresser."

Her dad. You know how one
little thing can put you off?

Yeah. I started seeing this
guy a couple of months ago.

Everything was going
great until I saw his back.

His back? It was like a bloody doormat.

It was like stroking a dog.

That is so shallow. Could have been "the
one". He wasn't the one. He was Chewbacca.

Where's Bloom? Er...
He's er...under your desk.

Martha says if he's still
AWOL by tonight, that's it.

Someone has got the boss's ear.

OK. We got a request for help this
morning from the Australian police.

A good bit of international PR could
do the Identity Unit very nicely indeed,

so I said, "Yes, please."

So, he said to me, "Terry, you're a
natural. You could turn professional easy.

Maybe even play for England."

But, as much as I love the game, I
didn't want to devote my life to it.

Terry! Come in for the real thing.

Listen, Terry, sorry, I gotta run.

But just call about that beer, yeah?

Last night, the body of
British national Olivia Knighton

was found in sand dunes outside Sydney.

She was ID'd by the manager of the
motel that she had been staying in.

The path report said that she was
fatally stabbed with a penknife

or a similar implement
around seven days ago.

Five days ago, ie, 48 hours
after the estimated time of death,

her AMEX card was used to buy a flight...

to London.

So, whoever was sitting in 41C and then caught
on camera coming through Heathrow Customs...

Was not Olivia Knighton.

We need to find her and identify
her, in any order you like.

Checking out of a motel,

the fake Olivia left word that she
had bumped into a friend from London...

..heading to Alice Springs for a few weeks.

Fits with concealing the body.

She wanted to buy some time as Olivia.

And we'll catch her by
letting her think that she has.

Credit and debit cards
stay active? Yes, please.

She's stunning.

I mean, even dead, she looks pretty
hot. If I was a girl, I'd want to be her.

Anything less subjective?

Sure. Not all identity crime
is financially motivated.

But identity theft for its own sake
is rare. "Rare" means it happens.

Look at that face. Passing herself
off as her must have been a blast.

Yeah, all right, we get it.
She's pretty. She's beautiful.

It doesn't prove that our suspect
is a delusional wannabe, though.

No, but offing someone then
flying on their passport

doesn't smack of a cold,
thought-out master plan, it's rash.

It's impulsive. It's... It's...bonkers,
but, hey, it actually works.

There she is, 30,000
feet up, in Olivia's seat.

20 long hours to London.

We need to speak to the person in 41B.

She is just too excited
not to talk to someone.

How are you, John? Is everything OK?

Great.

I moved back into my old flat,
so I've been hitting Homebase.

Two cappuccinos, please.

What do you think I should go for?

I can't decide.

Lichen green looks nice. Anything but
magnolia. Blokes always go for magnolia.

Not this one.

Lichen green it is.

So, you're not suffering from agoraphobia?

Depression? Diarrhoea?

Any other recognised symptoms
of post-traumatic stress?

Not lately, no.

Well, that's a pity. Cos the
only other reason I can fathom

that you'd take three days off work without
calling in is that you just don't give a shit.

I'm used to a long leash.

You've been here three months and
you're still hedging your bets?

Wake up, John.

You're a burnt-out undercover,
charitably saved from the scrap heap.

I'm feeling the tough, Martha,
I'm not feeling the love.

It took me five years to get this unit
greenlit. I've got one to prove its worth.

And now it's like the
baby that you never had.

You're going to tell me about all the nay-sayers
that you ignored when you gave me the job.

Were they right? Should I have listened?

Come on. We should go.

One other thing.

I've got plenty of time to have babies.

Do you want to do it or shall I?

A team effort.

Can I help?

Identity Unit.

It's about your daughter.

According to the cabin crew,
you upgraded this woman to first.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah. That's right. Yeah.

Very generous of you.

Well, she said she wanted
some company. What can I say?

Maybe just the extra leg room.

What was her accent like?
Was it English? Australian?

English.

She said she was born and
raised in Chelsea, but...erm...

after a few glasses, I think
I heard a few flat As in there.

What about her plans when she got back?

Or were those three bottles
of Krug kicking in by then?

Well, she said she was
really glad to be going home.

It means Dad hassling me to get a job

and Mum crying about her latest
date wanting to pee on her.

But I've got my place and...

home is home, right?

Please call me when you get this, Caroline.

Er...it's urgent.

Since the divorce, I'm not
exactly her favourite person.

So she could be call-screening.

Well, we've got a car on the
way to her house now, so...

Liv was our one and only.

This is going to kill her.

Excuse me.

You said that Olivia was hooking up with
some friends in Oz. Is she one of them?

She's wearing Olivia's clothes,
isn't she? I got her those boots.

I teased her that, a year ago, she wouldn't
have been seen dead in cowboy boots.

Excuse me.

You were right. She made
a friend on the plane -

investment banker, Martin Cameron.

What did Goldilocks do after
vacating Little Bear's chair?

She slept in his bed.

Any luck with the password? No.

Yesterday's Evening Standard.

I thought she'd risk a
night, but she's living here.

There's fresh food in the
fridge. Milk with yesterday's date.

She's really made herself at home.

Bloom?

Someone has been dressing up.

Talk about insult to injury. Takes her
life, then swans about in her Marc Jacobs.

It's like she's killing her all over again.

So what's the story? Where was
Bloom for the last three days?

Don't worry about it, Anthony. I do worry.

But something tells me
he won't be with us long.

What do you mean?
What makes you say that?

Forget it.

The guy next door says a woman has
been here for the last few days.

We established that.
Assumed it was legit.

Cos he saw her with Olivia's mum.

Do you ever come here with Liv?

She doesn't do the "doing
girlie things with Mum" thing.

Well, she's missed out. I've
had a ball these past few days.

Thank you, Anne.

Me, too.

When Liv said, "Look up my mum," I
didn't anticipate having this much fun.

The woman that killed my
daughter has kidnapped Caroline?

Two hours have gone by and
she hasn't answered her phone.

Where does she like to lunch?

Oh, God. Erm...

Daphne's. Oriel, Sloane
Square. Harvey Nichols.

This is just like a needle
in a bloody haystack.

Tessa, access the congestion-charge
server. Find Caroline Knighton's car.

But I thought the key to those
particular images had to be terror-shaped.

That was all just a sop to the media.

All right. That's OK, then.

Beat me with the civil-liberties
stick later. You can count on it.

Focus your search on Sloane Square
and Knightsbridge between 11 and 11:30.

OK.

OK. I've got her turning into
the top of Knightsbridge at 11:23,

but not showing on the next camera

so she either turned into Gray Street, Saville
Court or Tower Street underground car park.

Thanks, Tessa.

There's an old joke.

Why don't people in Canberra look
out of the window in the morning?

Because they'd have nothing
to do in the afternoon.

Sounds a bit like me. Really?

Well, five years ago, I was
a wife and a mother and now...

I mean, obviously, I'm still Liv's mum,

but, well, she doesn't
really need me any more.

What is it?

You remind me of my mum, that's all.

She died when I was a kid. Oh, I'm sorry.

My dad made up for it.

He was my whole world.

The restaurant manager says he can see her.

You can't tell her about Olivia. Why not?

She'll alert her. We need them to stay put.

Are you OK, Anne?

Yeah. Just a headache.

A call for you, Mrs Knighton.

What if she hurts
Caroline? In a public place?

She's safe. You don't know that.

Caroline? John, how did you know I was here?

Erm... Hold on.

Do you still make regular payments to her?

Tell her your account has been compromised.
You need her to sign fresh paperwork asap.

Look, my account has been compromised.
I need you to sign new paperwork.

What?

Just stay put. I'll be
with you in ten minutes.

Can't we do this later? I am with someone.

Caroline, just get out of there. The
woman you're with is not who she says.

The police think she
killed Olivia in Sydney.

Who are you?

Who are you? Get off!

Ladies, please! She killed my daughter!

I don't know her. Oh, my God!

Hello. This is Detective Superintendent
Martha Lawson. Who am I speaking to?

I've got the exits. She's
probably still inside.

I've never met this woman before in
my life! Mrs Knighton, are you OK?

The police want to speak to her. A knife!

OK. All four are painkillers. Two are
associated with migraines. One contains morphine.

So we're not talking a hangover cure.

My scientific opinion would be that she's
got something seriously wrong with her nut.

WOMAN: She's lovely. What's her name?

Jose! Jose!

Jose! Jose!

Police! Open the gates!

How's your head, Anne?

Don't beat yourself up. Our
prints from the buggy got a match.

Her real name's Jane
Calshaw. Born in Burnley.

She's wanted for the stabbing of fiance
Guy Halliday, in Chelsea, back in 2006.

So she's a fugitive. From Burnley.

Cameron said she was
hiding a northern accent.

Maybe she killed Olivia for the passport.

The flat, the shopping trips with her mum
were just pit stops she couldn't resist.

Not such a delusional wannabe.

But why does she need to come home? Why now?

Four different painkillers says a serious
condition to me. Maybe she was a ticking clock.

That's a catalyst, not a reason. I
mean, why risk coming back, at all?

We need to head north.

Burnley, Chelsea, Australia.
Australia, Chelsea, Burnley.

We find out where she's been,
we find out where she's going.

The evolution of Jane.

It feels a bit theoretical, when there's a
guy down the road she put in a wheelchair.

She took 20 grand in cash out of
Olivia's trust fund, an hour ago.

An hour? Tessa, why do I pay for this crap?

We got Olivia's account info from her
mum. Clearly, her dad set this one up.

You know how divorcees
curry favour with their kids.

No, not really.

Shit.

The bank's three streets
away from Halliday's shop.

Looks like you were right, Anthony.

Let's get him in.

What's the balance on
that account again? 3...

345,000, madam.

Oh, call me Liv. Everyone does.

I need to take out 20,000
in cash, please, Colin.

Pretty please? I owe a
drug dealer lots of money.

I'm joking.

Oh.

Erm...

I'll see what I can do.

Well, if she's come back to
finish me off, she can bring it on.

What did you think of Jane when you met her?

A decent enough receptionist. A bit
of a throwback. She came on, like a...

like an old-school Sloane.

Laura Ashley, court shoes, the works.

But I knew from her CV,
she'd grown up in Burnley.

Who made the first move?

Listen, before I knew it, she'd moved in and,
six months later, we're talking wedding dates.

Like I said, Dad is a self-educated genius.

He's read all the classics
- English, French, Russian.

Really?

But when he drinks...

Knowing him, he'll still be in the pub
when he's supposed to be giving me away.

Look, erm...the thing is...

Jane. ..Jane...

Sorry.

It's OK.

I forgive you.

Just don't forget it at the altar.

The thing is, it's not OK.

I still love Emma.

I'm so sorry, I really am.

Don't worry, Guy.

I've always been a
rip-the-plaster-off-quick person.

I knew I'd gotten off too lightly.

Uhh! Aaargh!

Did you ever meet the
"self-educated genius"?

She told me that her dad was a writer.

The police said he was a
plumber, had a bit of form.

Did Jane ever suffer from tremors,
migraines, anything like that?

Yeah, she did. She used
to get very bad headaches.

She claimed that it was from falling
out of a tree when she was a child.

We're wasting time.

She had her revenge three years ago, plus,
she's been back a week and he's still breathing.

It's Dad we need to find.

Jane's father, Malcolm Calshaw,
has a sheet going back to his teens.

Breaking and entering times three, possession
with intent to supply and GBH twice.

GBH.

Right. We're hitting the North.

Look...

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but...

Listen...

Sweetie pie, you do not
want a life with this guy.

You do not want a life with this guy.

I'm just trying to give you
the benefit of my experience.

I don't give a shit, if
you believe me or not.

Get it through your thick
skull. He doesn't want you.

He doesn't want you. He wants your money!

Don't cry, Gail. I'm
sorry you had to hear this.

Did you ever want to be someone else?

Yeah.

Samantha Shipley in 6A.

Why?

Legs.

Cheekbones.

James Abbiss.

So, you didn't want to be her,
you just wanted stuff that she had?

No, no, no, no. I wanted to be her.

Tessa?

The day she killed Olivia, Jane saw a
Sydney neurologist to discuss her condition.

Now, he believed that she was displaying
symptoms of post-traumatic dementia,

possibly caused by a severe blow
to the head when she was younger.

What symptoms?
Short-term memory loss.

Fine with where she went to school. Not
so great with where she left the car keys.

Now, he couldn't make any predictions,

but he stressed that dementia
could set in very quickly

and shorten life expectancy.

Talk about the sins of the
father. If Dad was responsible.

You think she did fall out of a tree?
Well, she wanted him to give her away.

I know the dad-daughter
thing is a thing, but...

Irreparable brain damage?
Maybe that's a recent discovery.

I think she's walking around with the wounds
of an abusive childhood festering in her head

and she wants revenge before they kill her.

I would.

Hello.

Brendan, my brother called.
When are you going to see him?

I'm on it. Brendan, I'm serious.

You owe him this.

When he was arrested, you just disappeared.

People in jail have short tempers, Brendan.

Yeah. Don't worry. Look, I'm not in town,
but it's... It's top of my to-do list.

Is everything all right? What?

Yeah, fine.

Yeah. All right, baby.

The whole Chelsea fixation is
starting to make a lot more sense.

Easy, fellas. Easy. That table
has seen sporting history.

Are you selling up, Malcolm?

A south-facing garden.

Make me an offer, sweetheart.

We're here to talk about your daughter.

After her mum died, I tried to love her enough
for two. I never denied my princess anything.

Gave her false hope, I suppose.
False hope of what, exactly?

That life owed her a big
kiss and a trip down the zoo.

You got any pictures of Jane...

your princess?

Sorry. All packed up.

Of course they are.

I'll cut to the chase. Your daughter suffered
chronic head injuries. Did you inflict them?

What kind of a question
is that? A logical one.

You've got previous convictions for GBH.

Or did Jane fall out of a tree?

No, she didn't fall out of a tree.

Hi. A delivery for Gail Robertson.

She's just... Do you want
me to put them in some water?

I can see you're busy. Right. Sure.

Being a single-parent...ahem...were
a struggle.

Before I knew it...

You fell in with a bad crowd.
You became a drug dealer.

What happened?

Some vermin with a score to settle took
it out on little Jane. With a hammer.

How "little" was Jane?

Ten.

You must have really pissed them off.

I sold 'em a bag of coke, only...it weren't.

It was caster sugar.

I've got a feeling she
might hold that against you.

Clearly, we're missing the joke here.

No, I think I get it. No matter
how many birthdays you forgot,

how many times you left her waiting at the
school gates, using her as a human shield,

she still thinks the sun
shines out of your arse.

What can I tell you?
Daughters love their dads.

She never held it against me.

Maybe that's because she
didn't know the injuries were terminal.

Love it.

Traditional, but timeless.

Oh, well, I'm a traditional girl.

You look beautiful.

No, I look like a beached whale.

When's the big day? On Saturday.

All photographs are to
be taken from the front.

Well, good luck.

I'll see myself out. Thanks.

Tessa?

Jane's ISP have finally coughed
up her internet searches.

She googled her dad's name, in
Oz, on average, four times a week.

832 times in total.

Any hits?

Not until a month ago. From
the Burnley Mail online.

Read what it says. Exactly.

Local plumber, Malcolm Calshaw, 49,
is to wed the multi-millionaire owner

of the bathroom chain where he's
worked for the last five years.

Entrepreneur Gail Robertson, 27,

says she's unconcerned about the age gap
and has rejected any notion of a pre-nup.

Silly cow.

Get Gail Robertson's
address to Anthony right now.

We hear congratulations are in order.

Does he serenade you on Sunday mornings?

That old acoustic guitar
with the cracked fretboard?

Two years ago, I was about to
walk down the aisle with him.

I'm sorry. I didn't get your name. Olivia.

I had a lucky escape.

Would you just get the fuck
out of my house, Olivia?

No. No!

He smashed my skull with a hammer.

Let me guess. You didn't share
your good news, because...

your millionaire fiancee doesn't
know about your fugitive daughter?

Yeah. The bad news?

Your daughter knows all about her.

Oh, God, no.

No. No, you're lying.

You're lying. I just don't know why. I don't
know what you want, but I know you're lying.

I know him. I know him all the way through.

Malcolm's got his vices,
but he wouldn't do that.

Fine.

Don't say you weren't warned.

You know what? You know, if you two were
ever an item, it can't have been that serious.

What?

Well, you just don't strike me as his type.

And what would you know...

about his type?

Quite a bit, actually.

The posh, uptight,
looking-down-her-nose type.

That just isn't him.

No? No.

He likes a laugh.

He likes a mate.

He likes a challenge, but, at the
same time, he likes his own space.

You just...seem like the clingy kind.

How far am I, Tessa? I
reckon two minutes, tops.

No answer.

Yeah. No answer.

No cars on the drive and no sign of Gail.

Thanks, Anthony.

We can't just wait here. Why would she come
to the one place she knows we'll be watching?

She doesn't have a choice. Hardwiring. She
told Olivia's mum her dad was her whole world.

And? And she needs to say goodbye.

I'm just er...

Don't like it in the house.

Jane?

Jane's gone.

Don't be sad.

Olivia's much more fun.

Gail Robertson had an appointment with her
obstetrician at five. She never made it.

Oh, shit.

Right. Your turn.

It stinks in there. Oh.

What have you done?

Don't worry, Dad. You don't need
your meal ticket any more. Look.

Plenty more where this came from. Answer me.

We can go anywhere, just like
you used to say. Answer me!

I've got a year before my
brain turns to mush, Dad.

I want to spend it with you.
What have you done to her, eh?

I've got her!

She's here! She's here!

Get out of my car!

Martha!

No! No! Hold on, Jane!

This is Gail's. She's been to the
house. She's been to the house.

She's been to the fucking house!

We searched the house, the grounds
and the wood behind. No sign of her.

OK.

Plan B.

This is all wrong, isn't it?

Dad marrying up, finding
the good life on his own.

You ran from your past, but you never turned
your back on it. You see, that's what I missed.

You were going to go out into
the world, marry some Old Money

and save Dad.

But even if your marriage
to Guy had gone ahead,

your proudest moment
wouldn't have been "I do",

it would have been the look on Dad's face, as
he walked you up the aisle, a look that said,

"Oh, shit, my ugly duckling
has turned into a swan."

Tell 'em where she is,
you little bitch! Tell 'em!

You were ten years old when this
shitbag let you take his punishment,

when his genius sugar-for-coke
scam went tits up.

He didn't know they'd come. He
didn't know. Of course he knew.

He made sure he was out. He sacrificed you.

Now, why would you want
the love of a man like that?

Because he's my dad.

Is Gail dead, Jane?

I don't know.

Help me!

Help me! My baby!

My baby!

Please!

If you don't make her talk, I will!

Can you give us a minute, guys?

It's all right. He'll behave himself.

I love the new look. You
got a name to go with it?

Olivia.

Sorry. That name's taken.

You'll have to think up another one.

You know, erm...

when I used to work undercover...

..I used to have to pretend to be
someone else, sometimes for months on end.

Every night, I'd fret over
the same boring questions.

Who am I?

What defines me?

What can I hold on to?

But you know the answer
to that, Jane, don't you?

It's what holds on to you.

It's what's in here.

The stuff we can't change.

The things you hate.

The people you love.

Am I right? Daddy's girl?

Oh, my God!

No! No!

No! No!

Open up! Open this door!

DSI Lawson!

The femoral artery is one of
the biggest arteries in the body.

A high volume of blood flows through it, as
the heart works to supply oxygen to the legs.

No!

Because this is a penetrating trauma,
everything's going to happen very fast.

No! He'll go into
haemorrhagic shock any minute.

Open the door!

Bloom!

Once the blood stops carrying
oxygen to the brain, it's over.

He'll suffer permanent brain damage,
something you know all about, Jane.

Bloom!

Where is she, Jane?

- Bloom!
- No!

- Where is she?
- Open the door!

Come on, Bloom!

The storm drain at Piltdown Mill.

Dad! Aaargh!

She's in a storm drain at
Piltdown Mill. Call the paramedics.

A flesh wound. He'll be fine.

Dad.

Dad!

What are you gonna do?
Stab me in the other leg?

Far from it, Mr Calshaw. I just want to hear
your side and take some photographs of your hands.

My hands?

Well, DI John Bloom says
you tussled for the knife.

So we'd expect to see some nicks...and cuts.

No cuts.

Cleaned and ironed, as requested.

I told you the money could
wait, Brendan. You know me.

Always happy to help.

You said you were going to see my brother.

You promised. I will.

I've been busy, you know.

Getting things going again.

That's a shame.

For God's sake, don't blame Atif.

He's just a big pair of fists
who does my brother's bidding.

He wants you to visit.

He says he knows who betrayed us, Brendan.

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