Landscapers (2021–…): Season 1, Episode 1 - Episode #1.1 - full transcript
Left stage!
Action! Rain.
Market Square, action!
Action!
Uh-huh.
Ah... Shit.
Ah.
Uh... Hello? Douglas speaking.
Oh, hello. It's Susan Edwards.
I understand you're being
offered as... as my, um...
Yes, that's right.
My name is Douglas Hylton.
I'll be coming in to help you
tonight, Mrs. Edwards.
Oh, Susan's fine.
Oh. Okay, thanks. Um...
Well, if you'd like,
I'll be representing you
- for the foreseeable...
- Oh, good, because...
you've heard, I think,
that my husband and I
have got ourselves
into a bit of a pickle.
- I know it sounds all rather...
- Susan. Susan?
- ...morbid...
- Uh... Sorry to interrupt you,
and thank you for calling me,
but I'm actually, uh,
walking to you right now, so if
that could just wait for a minute.
Yeah, I mean,
obviously we regret... I mean...
I mean, we should have done
certain things differently.
I... I think we're both happy
to admit that.
Well, "ha... ""happy"
is hardly the word, is it?
So... So...
So, I can hear you've got a lot
to get off your chest,
but, um, really,
- it's, uh...
- It is just very complicated, Douglas,
and I'm very keen for...
But it's my husband,
really, Chris, he just...
- he shouldn't be here.
- Sus... Susan? Susan?
- Sorry, can I just...
- So I feel, for his sake,
everyone should know the truth
from the outset.
- Uh... Uh... Uh... Susan?
- Yes?
It... It's... It's... It's just...
This isn't a private call
because I'm not actually
your representative yet.
Uh... That's what I'm coming
to do now,
you see,
to take your instruction,
and then I can...
- Does that make sense?
- I see, yes.
Sorry. Silly old me.
Look, I... I can
sense we're gonna get on, Susan.
- I'll speak to you very soon.
- Thank you.
Sorry to keep you.
- Bonjour, Madame.
- Bonjour.
Ah...
Of course,
but I think you mentioned
this one.
He's one of your favorites.
- Gary Cooper.
- Oh...
It's an original,
from the second Belgian release.
- The second Belgian release?
- Mm-hmm.
Aside from
everything else.
For you, madame,
I'll make a special price.
- Two hundred fifty.
- Oh, no, um,
- Francois, it's too much. Sorry.
- How about 200?
I could possibly stretch
to 100, but...
Madame...
...for you, I'll make it 150,
'cause I know
this will make you happy
and that makes me happy too.
Okay.
Uh... If you use the card,
it must be 170, madame.
Oh, okay.
- Merci.
- Merci beaucoup.
Mm-hmm.
Salut, mon cher.
- Hello, darling.
- Mm-hmm.
That's a nice greeting.
- Good morning?
- Um... It's okay, I think.
Lovely.
- I've made sandwiches.
- Thank you.
And there's soup
from last night if you want it.
Oh.
- - CHRISTOPHER
EDWARDS: What's in the sarnies?
Tuna and sweetcorn
on normal bread.
Found some
in the English section
- at the Monoprix.
- Oh, lovely.
Yes. Yes, yes. I felt I made...
a good impression.
Oh, and my French
- is really improving, actually.
- Ah!
- Drink?
- Yes, please.
So, I've got another one
this afternoon
which I'm hoping
will go even better. Mmm.
Oh, yes. Look, Chris!
It's just like the one
I had on my bedroom wall
as a little girl...
...that my grandfather
brought me.
It wasn't in French, but look!
Same image.
- How much was it?
- Oh, it was nothing.
Twenty euros?
It's not an original.
You know, Susan,
even 20 euros,
there'll be a final demand
for the gas in there,
and I'm the one
who's gotta open them
and sort it out.
- Is that from Gérard?
- You open it.
Well, no,
it's... it's for you.
Hmm.
My God. A hundred euro.
See, crosspatch? Didn't I say?
Things around here
are about to change.
Well, it's only a hundred,
Susan.
- But it's a start, isn't it?
- Of what?
We're way behind on the rent,
and if I don't get a job...
But you will get a job.
That's what I mean.
Yes, well, I'm trying...
trying my hardest.
Come on, then. What's Gérard
got to say for himself?
Read it out loud. I'm listening.
I'll look at it later.
Susan?
Why don't you, uh...
Why don't you put
that thing up?
Silly, keeping it hidden away
now you've got it.
Yes. Good idea.
Who wouldn't give
this handsome man a job, hey?
We'll celebrate afterwards
in the café.
IN FRENCH ACCENT
Christopher Edwards?
SPEAKING FRENCH...
SPEAKING FRENCH...
SPEAKING FRENCH...
Vous pouvez répéter la question?
S'il vous plaît.
Go on, Chris.
You can do it.
Mon cher, Chris.
Please find enclosed 100 euros,
a small token of my gratitude
for your eternal friendship.
As you will know from my movie,
we have a saying in France,
"La vie en rose."
The meaning of this phrase
is to look up at the stars
instead of in the gutter,
to see the beauty
that exists in life,
even when
it is difficult to find...
perhaps sometimes
even when it is not there.
This is the purpose of stories
and the purpose of cinema,
but more than this,
it is the purpose of love,
and to be loved is the most
beautiful thing in the world.
Yours sincerely,
Gérard Depardieu.
Hello?
- Hello?
- Is that Tabitha?
Speaking. Who's that?
That's not you,
is it Chris?
- Yeah. It's me.
- Chris?
Yes.
Uh... Um...
Listen, I'm sorry
it's been so long.
- Where are you?
- Uh... I'm... I'm in France.
- Are you with Susan?
- Yeah.
I've just... I've just been
for a... a... a... a job interview,
actually.
Yeah, a... a fairly senior
credit control position.
You know, but the truth is,
what with the, um...
the, um, the language barrier,
um... we... we're in a bit
of financial, um...
- you know... Uh...
- What am I saying?
There's...
There's this cashflow situation,
um, and believe me, we... we...
We... we're very grateful
for all the help
you've given us in the past.
- Chris?
- Oh, um...
- Is everything okay?
- No, I'm sorry. I'm still here.
Yeah, um...
Uh...
It's just, I need you to...
promise me something,
Tabitha. Um...
You see, I've... I've... I've done
something rather silly...
and it might sound bad,
might sound very bad, even,
but it's not what it seems.
Not at all.
It's not what it seems,
and, um, just needs a little bit
of clearing up, that's all.
So... that's why I need you
to promise me.
I need you to promise me
that you won't tell the police.
There you go. Can you
promise me that, Tabitha?
Uh... Because I can't...
I can't let Susan down.
Do you understand?
She's...
She's very, uh, fragile, yes.
Just tell me
what you need, Christopher.
I'm always here for you,
you know that.
So, how was it?
Yes.
It's, uh...
- Yes. Hard to tell, isn't it?
- Yeah. But good, do you think?
Uh... Well, my head's
a bit, um...
- but yes.
- Oh, I knew it.
- Do you want a coffee?
- Yeah.
Okay.
Oh, excusez-moi.
Merci.
Yeah, I was actually just, uh...
I was just thinking.
Supposing I do get this job...
I mean, I still wouldn't be paid
for a few weeks, would I?
We're behind on the rent.
And it...
It's not like other times,
Susan.
We're... We could be in...
- Merci.
- Thank you. Merci.
We could be in trouble.
So...
I was thinking, maybe,
to take the pressure off,
we could try
to borrow some money.
You know, I could ask
my stepmother, Tabitha.
She's, uh...
You think?
She's family, isn't she?
No.
- Really? I mean, would you...
- But no one knows
where we are or why.
And you'd possibly have to tell,
wouldn't you?
You'd have to explain a little
why we're here, and then,
she could tell the police, couldn't she?
- Not we've done anything wrong.
- The police?
Why would she do that? I don't think
there's any danger of her doing that.
- She's family.
- No, Chris.
Look, we're doing fine.
We're just going through a bit
of a sticky patch, that's all.
Yeah. Yeah, you're right.
Forget I mentioned it.
It's a silly idea.
Silly.
Thank you for calling
Nottinghamshire Police.
Please leave a message
after the tone.
My name
is Doctor Tabitha Edwards.
I'm calling to report
something rather...
Well, I don't know
what to make of it, frankly.
My stepson just told me
over the telephone...
...that he buried
his wife's parents
in a garden near Nottingham
fifteen years ago.
So, I'm just curious to know
if there were
any reports of a couple
by the name of William
and Patricia Wycherley
going missing around that time?
- Sir?
- No.
- Sir?
- Go away!
Fuck off, Emma.
I'm having my lunch.
Have you got a minute, sir?
We've just received a tip.
There are two bodies buried
in a back garden
in a house in Mansfield.
Woman called Tabitha Edwards...
was informed yesterday...
...by her stepson, Christopher.
- When?
- Fifteen years ago.
Fifteen years? Fuck off.
Stop telling me
to fuck off please, sir.
Bloody hell.
Why is this so fucking hot?
Well, it's a flask, sir.
Fucking Mount Etna, that is.
Ridiculous.
- Can't feel my fucking mouth.
- It's his in-laws apparently, sir.
- His what?
- The bodies.
Says he didn't
actually kill them.
Says it was an accident.
Rang to ask his stepmom
for some money
and then he just sort
of spilled the beans.
Right.
- Does he know that we know?
- She's made him aware, yeah.
Just, um, sent him
an email, apparently.
Sent an email?
What? "Dear Christopher,
I've told the fucking police"?
I told her
in strict confidence!
I asked her not to tell anyone.
I'm as disappointed as you are.
I'm...
I'm... I'm disgusted, actually.
Darling, she wasn't gonna
send any money
unless I told her
what was going on
and why we needed it.
Put yourself in my shoes.
What was I supposed to do?
We'll be living on the streets,
eating croissants
out of rubbish bins next!
Is that what you want?
We'd still be together though,
wouldn't we?
It's okay.
Just have to move again.
- Susan...
- No!
You were supposed
to protect me!
I have protected you!
I am. I'm trying!
But we both knew
this day would come.
But it's not your decision,
Chris! There are two of us here!
We're in this together,
aren't we?
Aren't we?
Yes.
And now, after all this time,
I'd do it for you.
I'd live on the streets for you.
I'd eat rubbish for you!
I'd eat a croissant
out of a bin for you.
- Well, we're not quite there yet.
- But I would, though!
Yeah.
Let's get this
cleared up, shall we?
Then how about a film?
Would you like to watch a film?
Yeah,
that's it there, number seven.
It's not number seven,
mate. It's number five.
Oh, right.
That's the house
over there.
So, shall we park up
- over there, then?
- Yeah. All right, all right.
I'm on it, I'm on it.
Just don't make
a scene.
Why would I make
a scene?
Because you're a twat.
You're a twat.
Why are you doing that?
I just rang the bell.
Can you stand a bit further
away from me, please?
What you on about?
I'm not even standing that... Oh!
- Afternoon.
- Good afternoon, sir.
Sorry to bother you.
We're from Nottingham Police.
We're following up a report
of a historic crime in the area
and, uh, wonder if we could have
a quick chat.
- Oh, right. Um...
- If that's not too much trouble.
No, sure. Uh...
Come in. I've got my youngest
asleep upstairs, though,
if you don't mind creeping.
All right, no problem.
- Perhaps we could go through to the garden?
- Yeah, sure.
Yes, assuming
you've got a garden.
You what?
Yeah.
Twat.
How long you've been here,
if you don't mind me asking?
Going on eight years.
Nice neighborhood?
Yeah, it's nice enough.
Pretty quiet, to be honest
with you,
but, uh, well, we like it.
Do you know who lived
here before, by any chance?
A elderly couple, apparently.
I'd have to check the, um...
- Wycherley?
- Huh?
Was it, uh...
...William and Patricia
Wycherley, by any chance?
Yeah, rings a bell. Um...
Why? Is this about them?
It wasn't me.
Whatever it is
you're investigating, officers,
it wasn't me.
Hello, there.
That's, uh...
That's Nigel.
He likes to talk to us
through the hedge.
All right, Nige?
Well, I should be happy
to move to the gap
if that's preferable, officers.
There's a gap just down there.
Shall we do that?
This is what I mean by a gap.
It's quite handy
for talking across gardens.
What's on the barbie
today, then, Nige?
Been having quite a few,
so I've noticed.
Well, you're always
welcome to join us, Danny,
you know that.
Briony! There's a couple
of police officers here
asking poor Danny some questions
about the Wycherleys.
Could you bring out
some more bangers?
I think it'd be fair to say
they were slightly
peculiar neighbors.
Although we didn't see a great
deal of them, did we, Bri?
No, not much.
- We heard them mostly.
- Yeah.
- Playing that strange organ.
- Oh!
Morning, afternoon, evening.
Apart from that, they kept
themselves to themselves.
Hmm.
Do you need more ketchup,
officer? It's homemade.
Mm. No. I'm good thanks.
These are...
These are really nice.
Thank you. Hmm.
So, you can hear
quite well then, can you?
Your neighbors.
Oh, very well.
You can hear everything.
Anything untoward or unusual
while the Wycherleys were here?
Ah, it's just the normal
sort of bickering, I suppose.
Occasional rows.
Oh, they were quite
funny together, mind.
You see, on the rare occasion
that you'd see them out,
on the way to the shops,
for example,
Patricia would walk two
or three yards behind William.
A sort of Victorian thing,
like she was his chattel.
So, I... I... I don't know
if that could be used as a...
clue of some kind.
I'll bear that in mind,
thank you.
Do you know what came of them?
When they left, where they went?
Blackpool then Ireland's
what we heard. Yeah.
- For the air.
- Yeah. Yeah.
- Big smokers, both of them.
- Left their daughter
and their son-in-law
to look after the place.
- Son-in-law mainly, Chris. Uh...
- And, um,
when would the Wycherleys
have gone to Blackpool?
- Oh, let's see, what, ten?
- Fift...
- Fifteen.
- Fifteen. Fifteen years ago.
- Hmm.
- Yeah, well before they actually sold the place.
It were Christopher
who told us they'd gone.
He were the only one we'd chat
with from time to time.
Yeah, when they were
doing the garden.
- What?
- What about the...
Oh!
Uh... Yeah, yeah,
another funny thing, actually.
There was a morning,
about that time,
when I woke up early,
as I sometimes do,
and I looked out my window,
and I saw Chris digging a hole
in the Wycherleys' garden.
Quite a deep hole.
Very deep, in fact.
Now, he was probably just
planting those rhododendrons
that you'd seen round
at Danny's but, uh,
we joked about it, didn't we?
'Cause we said he's probably
burying his in-laws.
Because it was about that time
that they'd, uh, moved away.
So, I don't know
if that could be used as a...
some kind of clue?
- Let him through. Let him through.
- Go on, you go out.
- Keep going.
- Edward, on your scooter.
Go through. Yeah.
Hold on. Edward,
hold on, wait for your sister.
Dear, Mr. Edwards,
please forgive
my contacting you directly...
but your stepmother,
Dr. Tabitha Edwards,
has been kind enough
to pass along
your email address.
She indicated you may be
in possession
of some information
of possible interest to us
and if you'd be good enough
to share your telephone number,
we'd very much like
to speak with you
at your earliest convenience.
Even better would be
the opportunity
to arrange
for a personal interview,
although Dr. Edwards informs us
that you may
currently be residing abroad.
I want to reassure you that
in that event,
we don't believe
it's in anyone's interests
to trouble
the local authorities.
Yours truly, Detective
Chief Inspector Tony Collier.
Why are you stopping?
It's no good.
I've got to go back, Amy.
Why?
This is crazy.
I haven't even got any guns.
Then let's go on. Hurry.
No.
They're making me run.
I've never run
from anybody before.
There's gonna be fighting
when Kane and Miller meet.
And somebody's gonna get hurt.
That's for sure.
- Everything ready?
- Sure, just the way you want it, Frank.
Yeah, we've got
your gun over here.
Let's get started,
then.
Dear DCI Collier.
Thank you
for your considerate message.
My wife Susan and I
would be delighted
to assist you
in any way we can...
...and to put this
whole matter behind us
once and for all.
We agree that it's
in everyone's interests
to avoid involving
the French police.
I'm afraid, however,
that our return to England
may not happen as soon
as you might prefer.
Good afternoon.
How many leads do you have
besides the garden?
I'm sure that you
understand that my first duty
is to my wife.
She is of a very fragile
disposition
and we have been leading
a peaceful...
existence here in France.
I'd be worried about inflicting
unnecessary stress
and it could take her some time
to come round to the idea
of leaving this country
to return to the UK.
Nevertheless, do let's stay in touch.
We look forward
to the opportunity
to clear our names
as soon as possible.
You have my word.
Yours very sincerely,
Christopher Edwards.
In answer to the
question on everyone's mind,
I can confirm that...
...yesterday morning,
two bodies were found buried
in the back garden
of a house in Mansfield.
At present, we cannot confirm
the identities of the deceased,
nor do we know
the cause of death
or the circumstances under which
they came to be buried
in that location.
That being said,
we do have some leads
and we hope to be making
significant progress
over the coming days.
"Do let's keep in
touch." I'm sorry, but what is that?
Psychopath.
Written all over it.
Why can't we just get
a warrant,
have the French track them down
and pick them up
before they get away?
What we arresting them for,
Emma? Writing a weird email?
Prevention of a lawful
and decent burial?
Double murder?
Hey! Good one!
Let's go and arrest them,
then, shall we? Off we pop!
Oh, hang on a minute.
Where the fuck
did the murders take place?
When the fuck? Who the fuck
was involved? How the fuck?
European Arrest Warrant.
Because, thank you, Paul...
that's what we need
for a European Arrest Warrant,
minimum.
So, they can just stay there
as long as they like?
Yes. He's thick
as two short planks
- and he knows that.
- Cheers, mate.
At the minute, all we've got
are those bullets,
a nutty professor
who got a dodgy phone call
from some bloke in Lille,
a pair of rickety old skeletons
in a back yard,
buried God knows when,
and a vague proclamation
of innocence
from a man who writes
very polite emails
to the police.
So, either we come up
with some hard evidence
or Croque Madame
and her pen-pal Muppet husband
can carry on
with their French bloody holiday
for as long
as they damn well please.
I'll see you in ten minutes.
I'm getting a fucking sandwich.
So what do we make
of this "fragile" business then?
"She's of a very
fragile disposition."
He's just saying whatever comes
into his head, isn't he?
To fuck with us.
I hate that.
Fragile people.
All right.
We've got nothing
to go on, do we?
She might not even
be that fragile.
But he didn't need to tell
his stepmom
that he'd buried those bodies
in the garden, did he?
He's answering questions
no one's even asked.
And they're not even
his parents,
so what's he doing burying them
in the fucking garden?
If...
If he did bury them.
I don't know.
‘Cause they're heavy?
Oh, it can't just be that.
I've got tits, I could dig
a fucking hole if I had to.
"Fragile."
I know what fragile
fucking means.
It means you're in charge.
You're the one who gets drunk
and ends up in hospital.
You're the one who gets sad
and lashes out.
You're the pain in the arse,
basically.
My, um...
My mom always says
about relationships
that one of you is the gardener
and the other one's the garden.
Right.
What does that mean?
Don't know.
I fucking hate gardening.
What happened here is unknown,
but over 13 years ago,
two bodies were buried
in this garden.
Only discovered
by police on Thursday,
officers were led to the house
after receiving information
last week
about an alleged incident
in the late 1990s.
Our enquiries have confirmed
that in 1998, an elderly couple,
named William
and Patricia Wycherley,
resided at the address
in question.
We have, of course,
been in contact
with former neighbors
and relatives
of the Wycherleys,
and they've painted a picture
of a quiet couple
who kept themselves
to their selves,
and who appeared to have
very few close friends
or assoc...
I didn't finish that crossword.
Oh, well.
We can have another look
at it later.
I've pressed
your suit for you.
Thank you.
In case you get
a second interview for that job.
I won't get a second interview.
It's been a week.
Now, why would you say that?
Why would you give up?
Because it was
a terrible interview!
They've all been terrible.
It was a waste of time,
and it was humiliating.
Have the... police replied
to your message?
No, they haven't.
And to tell you the truth...
I just think
that the more we run,
the more guilty we'll seem.
They won't believe us.
I'm going for a shower.
Forensics confirms that one
of the bodies is male,
the other is female.
We recovered
two .38-caliber bullets
from each of the wrappings
around the body.
Looks most likely that both
were shot twice in the chest
using the same weapon.
Obviously, we are yet to hear
any more from the Edwardses,
but I think it's fair to say
that whoever killed these people
probably killed them on purpose.
Bon appétit.
Thank you.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Sorry, Chris.
- Wh... What's the matter?
- I'm so sorry.
- It's all my fault.
- Hey.
- No, it's not, Susan.
- It is.
It's not your fault.
Don't you ever think that.
I've ruined your life.
Oh!
You haven't ruined my life.
How can you say such a thing?
- Because...
- You are my life.
You're my whole life.
You know that.
Come on, now.
Everything's gonna be just...
fine.
Everything
is gonna be all right.
Okay, baby?
I promise.
Dear DCI Collier,
we note the growing notoriety
of your inquest
and possible assumptions
about our involvement.
We have, therefore,
decided to return
to England immediately.
We prefer this approach
rather than to leave ourselves
open to a surprise arrest,
since my wife is already
sufficiently frightened.
Sorry to interrupt, but,
uh, this just came in
from Christopher Edwards, sir.
You, get me London.
Yes, sir.
- You, get me the British Transport Police, ASAP.
- Yeah, on it, sir.
Emma, where the fuck are ya?
Later this evening,
my wife and I
will board the Eurostar
and surrender ourselves
to the authorities
at St. Pancras Station.
We do have
one small favor to ask.
Since same-day tickets
are so pricey,
and we find ourselves
a bit short of funds
at the moment,
could you be so kind
as to arrange tickets for us
on the 23.34 departure
from Lille?
We should then arrive shortly
before midnight
if there are no delays.
Yours sincerely,
Christopher Edwards.
Tickets booked, sir.
Coach five, seats 61 and 62.
Brilliant. Get in the back.
- What?
- I'm not getting in the fucking back. Are you joking?
- Sorry, can you just bear with for a sec?
- Come on. Fuck's sake.
- Back door lock might be on.
- Can you let me in?
- It's a child lock or summat.
- Fuck's sake.
- The country's finest spring into action.
- Fucking hell. Right.
- Yeah, what were you saying?
- Buckle up. Come on.
I do beg your pardon, we
just needed to sort something else out.
Come on, love.
Susan, we really need
to get that train.
Please?
It's not so bad
now we're on our way, is it?
Feel quite calm, actually.
You know, I think it's a good
thing that you spoke to Tabitha
and that she told the police.
It's about time they knew,
isn't it?
- Hmm.
- They ought to know.
And what have we got
to worry about?
We know what happened.
We just have to stick
to the plan and tell them.
Don't we? Like we've been
saying, stick to the plan.
That's right, darling.
Stick to the plan.
How much money have you got?
- Not much.
- How much?
About...
two euros something.
I've got one and a bit.
Hand it over.
Might as well use it up!
Do you know
what I find weird, though?
It's those long scotch eggs.
Do you know the ones
that you get
at service stations?
Oh, my God, yeah.
It's all powdered, isn't it?
First time I saw it, I was like,
"Show me the chicken
that laid that egg."
Do you know what I mean?
- Did you say something, Emma?
- What?
No, just saying about
those long scotch eggs.
Service stations.
Like, "Show me the chicken
that laid that."
- 'Cause it's a weird egg.
- Yeah.
Fuck's sake. Is this thing on?
Hey.
Guess who I thought
I just saw in the buffet car.
- Who?
- Gérard.
- Depardieu?
- Yeah, Gérard Depardieu.
He was heading over
from business class
and I thought,
"Oh, my goodness, that's him!"
But it wasn't?
No. Can't have been, can it?
No, it's just someone
who looked like him.
...fucking saying.
I am just spending a few seconds
alone with my own daughter.
What do you need?
Just get down the staircase.
Go on, just get up
to your bedroom!
Oh, Chris.
It's all right.
I'm stronger than I look.
Chris, I don't think
I can say goodbye to you.
No one is saying goodbye,
my love.
There are no goodbyes
between us.
I'll never leave you.
You know that.
Never.
Give me your passport.
Are you ready, darling?
Suppose so.
- DCI Collier, Nottingham Police.
- Sir.
I'm the SIO.
The next train
to arrive at platform 11
will be the 23.34...
- Right, I'll take up here.
- ...Eurostar service
- from Lille.
- I'll go up and round.
The next train
to arrive at plat...
You got eyes on them, Paul?
Over.
Where did they say
to meet them?
By the south-west...
exit of the St. Pancras Hotel
car park,
which I think is this way.
Paul, come in.
Have you got eyes on them? Over.
Not yet, sir,
but eyes peeled. Over.
Sorry. Excuse me.
Terribly sorry.
I think I might
have spotted them, sir.
What are they doing?
They're just sort
of walking, sir.
In your direction. Over.
Remember,
one step at a time...
...like we said.
They arrest us,
they read us our rights.
We know what we're gonna say.
We've gone through it
a thousand times
and we're ready.
But don't say a word
without a solicitor.
- Right?
- Yes.
And remember, if you don't like
the first one they offer,
ask to meet another.
You're in charge.
Then come the police interviews.
They'll try to confuse you,
but don't let them.
Just tell our story,
simply and calmly.
No need to make anything up.
Just tell them the truth.
Yes, just tell them the truth.
Good evening.
Susan
and Christopher Edwards
might have seemed
like an ordinary couple,
but together, they had carried
a sinister secret
for over fifteen years.
Buried in the rear garden
of this unassuming
Mansfield property
were the bodies
of Susan's parents.
Remains found
last month are believed
to be those of William
and Patricia Wycherley.
Buried in the back garden
of a semi-detached house
at Forest Town in Mansfield.
Following a tip-off,
police make a grim discovery.
One woman said she knew
of an elderly couple
who were here in the '90s.
One day,
they just disappeared.
Everyone assumed
that they'd emigrated,
and no one thought
anything of it.
A postmortem
examination revealed
they'd both been shot twice
with a revolver
similar to this one.
In panic, the Edwards
fled to France
before eventually contacting
police in the UK
when they ran out of money.
In an email,
Christopher Edwards wrote,
"We're going
to surrender ourselves
to the UK authorities."
Late last night,
at St. Pancras Station,
husband and wife Susan
and Christopher Edwards...
...were arrested
on suspicion of murder...
...on their return
from France.
They have since
been escorted
back to Nottinghamshire,
where they'll be held in custody
for the next 24 hours
to be questioned by police.
Action! Rain.
Market Square, action!
Action!
Uh-huh.
Ah... Shit.
Ah.
Uh... Hello? Douglas speaking.
Oh, hello. It's Susan Edwards.
I understand you're being
offered as... as my, um...
Yes, that's right.
My name is Douglas Hylton.
I'll be coming in to help you
tonight, Mrs. Edwards.
Oh, Susan's fine.
Oh. Okay, thanks. Um...
Well, if you'd like,
I'll be representing you
- for the foreseeable...
- Oh, good, because...
you've heard, I think,
that my husband and I
have got ourselves
into a bit of a pickle.
- I know it sounds all rather...
- Susan. Susan?
- ...morbid...
- Uh... Sorry to interrupt you,
and thank you for calling me,
but I'm actually, uh,
walking to you right now, so if
that could just wait for a minute.
Yeah, I mean,
obviously we regret... I mean...
I mean, we should have done
certain things differently.
I... I think we're both happy
to admit that.
Well, "ha... ""happy"
is hardly the word, is it?
So... So...
So, I can hear you've got a lot
to get off your chest,
but, um, really,
- it's, uh...
- It is just very complicated, Douglas,
and I'm very keen for...
But it's my husband,
really, Chris, he just...
- he shouldn't be here.
- Sus... Susan? Susan?
- Sorry, can I just...
- So I feel, for his sake,
everyone should know the truth
from the outset.
- Uh... Uh... Uh... Susan?
- Yes?
It... It's... It's... It's just...
This isn't a private call
because I'm not actually
your representative yet.
Uh... That's what I'm coming
to do now,
you see,
to take your instruction,
and then I can...
- Does that make sense?
- I see, yes.
Sorry. Silly old me.
Look, I... I can
sense we're gonna get on, Susan.
- I'll speak to you very soon.
- Thank you.
Sorry to keep you.
- Bonjour, Madame.
- Bonjour.
Ah...
Of course,
but I think you mentioned
this one.
He's one of your favorites.
- Gary Cooper.
- Oh...
It's an original,
from the second Belgian release.
- The second Belgian release?
- Mm-hmm.
Aside from
everything else.
For you, madame,
I'll make a special price.
- Two hundred fifty.
- Oh, no, um,
- Francois, it's too much. Sorry.
- How about 200?
I could possibly stretch
to 100, but...
Madame...
...for you, I'll make it 150,
'cause I know
this will make you happy
and that makes me happy too.
Okay.
Uh... If you use the card,
it must be 170, madame.
Oh, okay.
- Merci.
- Merci beaucoup.
Mm-hmm.
Salut, mon cher.
- Hello, darling.
- Mm-hmm.
That's a nice greeting.
- Good morning?
- Um... It's okay, I think.
Lovely.
- I've made sandwiches.
- Thank you.
And there's soup
from last night if you want it.
Oh.
- - CHRISTOPHER
EDWARDS: What's in the sarnies?
Tuna and sweetcorn
on normal bread.
Found some
in the English section
- at the Monoprix.
- Oh, lovely.
Yes. Yes, yes. I felt I made...
a good impression.
Oh, and my French
- is really improving, actually.
- Ah!
- Drink?
- Yes, please.
So, I've got another one
this afternoon
which I'm hoping
will go even better. Mmm.
Oh, yes. Look, Chris!
It's just like the one
I had on my bedroom wall
as a little girl...
...that my grandfather
brought me.
It wasn't in French, but look!
Same image.
- How much was it?
- Oh, it was nothing.
Twenty euros?
It's not an original.
You know, Susan,
even 20 euros,
there'll be a final demand
for the gas in there,
and I'm the one
who's gotta open them
and sort it out.
- Is that from Gérard?
- You open it.
Well, no,
it's... it's for you.
Hmm.
My God. A hundred euro.
See, crosspatch? Didn't I say?
Things around here
are about to change.
Well, it's only a hundred,
Susan.
- But it's a start, isn't it?
- Of what?
We're way behind on the rent,
and if I don't get a job...
But you will get a job.
That's what I mean.
Yes, well, I'm trying...
trying my hardest.
Come on, then. What's Gérard
got to say for himself?
Read it out loud. I'm listening.
I'll look at it later.
Susan?
Why don't you, uh...
Why don't you put
that thing up?
Silly, keeping it hidden away
now you've got it.
Yes. Good idea.
Who wouldn't give
this handsome man a job, hey?
We'll celebrate afterwards
in the café.
IN FRENCH ACCENT
Christopher Edwards?
SPEAKING FRENCH...
SPEAKING FRENCH...
SPEAKING FRENCH...
Vous pouvez répéter la question?
S'il vous plaît.
Go on, Chris.
You can do it.
Mon cher, Chris.
Please find enclosed 100 euros,
a small token of my gratitude
for your eternal friendship.
As you will know from my movie,
we have a saying in France,
"La vie en rose."
The meaning of this phrase
is to look up at the stars
instead of in the gutter,
to see the beauty
that exists in life,
even when
it is difficult to find...
perhaps sometimes
even when it is not there.
This is the purpose of stories
and the purpose of cinema,
but more than this,
it is the purpose of love,
and to be loved is the most
beautiful thing in the world.
Yours sincerely,
Gérard Depardieu.
Hello?
- Hello?
- Is that Tabitha?
Speaking. Who's that?
That's not you,
is it Chris?
- Yeah. It's me.
- Chris?
Yes.
Uh... Um...
Listen, I'm sorry
it's been so long.
- Where are you?
- Uh... I'm... I'm in France.
- Are you with Susan?
- Yeah.
I've just... I've just been
for a... a... a... a job interview,
actually.
Yeah, a... a fairly senior
credit control position.
You know, but the truth is,
what with the, um...
the, um, the language barrier,
um... we... we're in a bit
of financial, um...
- you know... Uh...
- What am I saying?
There's...
There's this cashflow situation,
um, and believe me, we... we...
We... we're very grateful
for all the help
you've given us in the past.
- Chris?
- Oh, um...
- Is everything okay?
- No, I'm sorry. I'm still here.
Yeah, um...
Uh...
It's just, I need you to...
promise me something,
Tabitha. Um...
You see, I've... I've... I've done
something rather silly...
and it might sound bad,
might sound very bad, even,
but it's not what it seems.
Not at all.
It's not what it seems,
and, um, just needs a little bit
of clearing up, that's all.
So... that's why I need you
to promise me.
I need you to promise me
that you won't tell the police.
There you go. Can you
promise me that, Tabitha?
Uh... Because I can't...
I can't let Susan down.
Do you understand?
She's...
She's very, uh, fragile, yes.
Just tell me
what you need, Christopher.
I'm always here for you,
you know that.
So, how was it?
Yes.
It's, uh...
- Yes. Hard to tell, isn't it?
- Yeah. But good, do you think?
Uh... Well, my head's
a bit, um...
- but yes.
- Oh, I knew it.
- Do you want a coffee?
- Yeah.
Okay.
Oh, excusez-moi.
Merci.
Yeah, I was actually just, uh...
I was just thinking.
Supposing I do get this job...
I mean, I still wouldn't be paid
for a few weeks, would I?
We're behind on the rent.
And it...
It's not like other times,
Susan.
We're... We could be in...
- Merci.
- Thank you. Merci.
We could be in trouble.
So...
I was thinking, maybe,
to take the pressure off,
we could try
to borrow some money.
You know, I could ask
my stepmother, Tabitha.
She's, uh...
You think?
She's family, isn't she?
No.
- Really? I mean, would you...
- But no one knows
where we are or why.
And you'd possibly have to tell,
wouldn't you?
You'd have to explain a little
why we're here, and then,
she could tell the police, couldn't she?
- Not we've done anything wrong.
- The police?
Why would she do that? I don't think
there's any danger of her doing that.
- She's family.
- No, Chris.
Look, we're doing fine.
We're just going through a bit
of a sticky patch, that's all.
Yeah. Yeah, you're right.
Forget I mentioned it.
It's a silly idea.
Silly.
Thank you for calling
Nottinghamshire Police.
Please leave a message
after the tone.
My name
is Doctor Tabitha Edwards.
I'm calling to report
something rather...
Well, I don't know
what to make of it, frankly.
My stepson just told me
over the telephone...
...that he buried
his wife's parents
in a garden near Nottingham
fifteen years ago.
So, I'm just curious to know
if there were
any reports of a couple
by the name of William
and Patricia Wycherley
going missing around that time?
- Sir?
- No.
- Sir?
- Go away!
Fuck off, Emma.
I'm having my lunch.
Have you got a minute, sir?
We've just received a tip.
There are two bodies buried
in a back garden
in a house in Mansfield.
Woman called Tabitha Edwards...
was informed yesterday...
...by her stepson, Christopher.
- When?
- Fifteen years ago.
Fifteen years? Fuck off.
Stop telling me
to fuck off please, sir.
Bloody hell.
Why is this so fucking hot?
Well, it's a flask, sir.
Fucking Mount Etna, that is.
Ridiculous.
- Can't feel my fucking mouth.
- It's his in-laws apparently, sir.
- His what?
- The bodies.
Says he didn't
actually kill them.
Says it was an accident.
Rang to ask his stepmom
for some money
and then he just sort
of spilled the beans.
Right.
- Does he know that we know?
- She's made him aware, yeah.
Just, um, sent him
an email, apparently.
Sent an email?
What? "Dear Christopher,
I've told the fucking police"?
I told her
in strict confidence!
I asked her not to tell anyone.
I'm as disappointed as you are.
I'm...
I'm... I'm disgusted, actually.
Darling, she wasn't gonna
send any money
unless I told her
what was going on
and why we needed it.
Put yourself in my shoes.
What was I supposed to do?
We'll be living on the streets,
eating croissants
out of rubbish bins next!
Is that what you want?
We'd still be together though,
wouldn't we?
It's okay.
Just have to move again.
- Susan...
- No!
You were supposed
to protect me!
I have protected you!
I am. I'm trying!
But we both knew
this day would come.
But it's not your decision,
Chris! There are two of us here!
We're in this together,
aren't we?
Aren't we?
Yes.
And now, after all this time,
I'd do it for you.
I'd live on the streets for you.
I'd eat rubbish for you!
I'd eat a croissant
out of a bin for you.
- Well, we're not quite there yet.
- But I would, though!
Yeah.
Let's get this
cleared up, shall we?
Then how about a film?
Would you like to watch a film?
Yeah,
that's it there, number seven.
It's not number seven,
mate. It's number five.
Oh, right.
That's the house
over there.
So, shall we park up
- over there, then?
- Yeah. All right, all right.
I'm on it, I'm on it.
Just don't make
a scene.
Why would I make
a scene?
Because you're a twat.
You're a twat.
Why are you doing that?
I just rang the bell.
Can you stand a bit further
away from me, please?
What you on about?
I'm not even standing that... Oh!
- Afternoon.
- Good afternoon, sir.
Sorry to bother you.
We're from Nottingham Police.
We're following up a report
of a historic crime in the area
and, uh, wonder if we could have
a quick chat.
- Oh, right. Um...
- If that's not too much trouble.
No, sure. Uh...
Come in. I've got my youngest
asleep upstairs, though,
if you don't mind creeping.
All right, no problem.
- Perhaps we could go through to the garden?
- Yeah, sure.
Yes, assuming
you've got a garden.
You what?
Yeah.
Twat.
How long you've been here,
if you don't mind me asking?
Going on eight years.
Nice neighborhood?
Yeah, it's nice enough.
Pretty quiet, to be honest
with you,
but, uh, well, we like it.
Do you know who lived
here before, by any chance?
A elderly couple, apparently.
I'd have to check the, um...
- Wycherley?
- Huh?
Was it, uh...
...William and Patricia
Wycherley, by any chance?
Yeah, rings a bell. Um...
Why? Is this about them?
It wasn't me.
Whatever it is
you're investigating, officers,
it wasn't me.
Hello, there.
That's, uh...
That's Nigel.
He likes to talk to us
through the hedge.
All right, Nige?
Well, I should be happy
to move to the gap
if that's preferable, officers.
There's a gap just down there.
Shall we do that?
This is what I mean by a gap.
It's quite handy
for talking across gardens.
What's on the barbie
today, then, Nige?
Been having quite a few,
so I've noticed.
Well, you're always
welcome to join us, Danny,
you know that.
Briony! There's a couple
of police officers here
asking poor Danny some questions
about the Wycherleys.
Could you bring out
some more bangers?
I think it'd be fair to say
they were slightly
peculiar neighbors.
Although we didn't see a great
deal of them, did we, Bri?
No, not much.
- We heard them mostly.
- Yeah.
- Playing that strange organ.
- Oh!
Morning, afternoon, evening.
Apart from that, they kept
themselves to themselves.
Hmm.
Do you need more ketchup,
officer? It's homemade.
Mm. No. I'm good thanks.
These are...
These are really nice.
Thank you. Hmm.
So, you can hear
quite well then, can you?
Your neighbors.
Oh, very well.
You can hear everything.
Anything untoward or unusual
while the Wycherleys were here?
Ah, it's just the normal
sort of bickering, I suppose.
Occasional rows.
Oh, they were quite
funny together, mind.
You see, on the rare occasion
that you'd see them out,
on the way to the shops,
for example,
Patricia would walk two
or three yards behind William.
A sort of Victorian thing,
like she was his chattel.
So, I... I... I don't know
if that could be used as a...
clue of some kind.
I'll bear that in mind,
thank you.
Do you know what came of them?
When they left, where they went?
Blackpool then Ireland's
what we heard. Yeah.
- For the air.
- Yeah. Yeah.
- Big smokers, both of them.
- Left their daughter
and their son-in-law
to look after the place.
- Son-in-law mainly, Chris. Uh...
- And, um,
when would the Wycherleys
have gone to Blackpool?
- Oh, let's see, what, ten?
- Fift...
- Fifteen.
- Fifteen. Fifteen years ago.
- Hmm.
- Yeah, well before they actually sold the place.
It were Christopher
who told us they'd gone.
He were the only one we'd chat
with from time to time.
Yeah, when they were
doing the garden.
- What?
- What about the...
Oh!
Uh... Yeah, yeah,
another funny thing, actually.
There was a morning,
about that time,
when I woke up early,
as I sometimes do,
and I looked out my window,
and I saw Chris digging a hole
in the Wycherleys' garden.
Quite a deep hole.
Very deep, in fact.
Now, he was probably just
planting those rhododendrons
that you'd seen round
at Danny's but, uh,
we joked about it, didn't we?
'Cause we said he's probably
burying his in-laws.
Because it was about that time
that they'd, uh, moved away.
So, I don't know
if that could be used as a...
some kind of clue?
- Let him through. Let him through.
- Go on, you go out.
- Keep going.
- Edward, on your scooter.
Go through. Yeah.
Hold on. Edward,
hold on, wait for your sister.
Dear, Mr. Edwards,
please forgive
my contacting you directly...
but your stepmother,
Dr. Tabitha Edwards,
has been kind enough
to pass along
your email address.
She indicated you may be
in possession
of some information
of possible interest to us
and if you'd be good enough
to share your telephone number,
we'd very much like
to speak with you
at your earliest convenience.
Even better would be
the opportunity
to arrange
for a personal interview,
although Dr. Edwards informs us
that you may
currently be residing abroad.
I want to reassure you that
in that event,
we don't believe
it's in anyone's interests
to trouble
the local authorities.
Yours truly, Detective
Chief Inspector Tony Collier.
Why are you stopping?
It's no good.
I've got to go back, Amy.
Why?
This is crazy.
I haven't even got any guns.
Then let's go on. Hurry.
No.
They're making me run.
I've never run
from anybody before.
There's gonna be fighting
when Kane and Miller meet.
And somebody's gonna get hurt.
That's for sure.
- Everything ready?
- Sure, just the way you want it, Frank.
Yeah, we've got
your gun over here.
Let's get started,
then.
Dear DCI Collier.
Thank you
for your considerate message.
My wife Susan and I
would be delighted
to assist you
in any way we can...
...and to put this
whole matter behind us
once and for all.
We agree that it's
in everyone's interests
to avoid involving
the French police.
I'm afraid, however,
that our return to England
may not happen as soon
as you might prefer.
Good afternoon.
How many leads do you have
besides the garden?
I'm sure that you
understand that my first duty
is to my wife.
She is of a very fragile
disposition
and we have been leading
a peaceful...
existence here in France.
I'd be worried about inflicting
unnecessary stress
and it could take her some time
to come round to the idea
of leaving this country
to return to the UK.
Nevertheless, do let's stay in touch.
We look forward
to the opportunity
to clear our names
as soon as possible.
You have my word.
Yours very sincerely,
Christopher Edwards.
In answer to the
question on everyone's mind,
I can confirm that...
...yesterday morning,
two bodies were found buried
in the back garden
of a house in Mansfield.
At present, we cannot confirm
the identities of the deceased,
nor do we know
the cause of death
or the circumstances under which
they came to be buried
in that location.
That being said,
we do have some leads
and we hope to be making
significant progress
over the coming days.
"Do let's keep in
touch." I'm sorry, but what is that?
Psychopath.
Written all over it.
Why can't we just get
a warrant,
have the French track them down
and pick them up
before they get away?
What we arresting them for,
Emma? Writing a weird email?
Prevention of a lawful
and decent burial?
Double murder?
Hey! Good one!
Let's go and arrest them,
then, shall we? Off we pop!
Oh, hang on a minute.
Where the fuck
did the murders take place?
When the fuck? Who the fuck
was involved? How the fuck?
European Arrest Warrant.
Because, thank you, Paul...
that's what we need
for a European Arrest Warrant,
minimum.
So, they can just stay there
as long as they like?
Yes. He's thick
as two short planks
- and he knows that.
- Cheers, mate.
At the minute, all we've got
are those bullets,
a nutty professor
who got a dodgy phone call
from some bloke in Lille,
a pair of rickety old skeletons
in a back yard,
buried God knows when,
and a vague proclamation
of innocence
from a man who writes
very polite emails
to the police.
So, either we come up
with some hard evidence
or Croque Madame
and her pen-pal Muppet husband
can carry on
with their French bloody holiday
for as long
as they damn well please.
I'll see you in ten minutes.
I'm getting a fucking sandwich.
So what do we make
of this "fragile" business then?
"She's of a very
fragile disposition."
He's just saying whatever comes
into his head, isn't he?
To fuck with us.
I hate that.
Fragile people.
All right.
We've got nothing
to go on, do we?
She might not even
be that fragile.
But he didn't need to tell
his stepmom
that he'd buried those bodies
in the garden, did he?
He's answering questions
no one's even asked.
And they're not even
his parents,
so what's he doing burying them
in the fucking garden?
If...
If he did bury them.
I don't know.
‘Cause they're heavy?
Oh, it can't just be that.
I've got tits, I could dig
a fucking hole if I had to.
"Fragile."
I know what fragile
fucking means.
It means you're in charge.
You're the one who gets drunk
and ends up in hospital.
You're the one who gets sad
and lashes out.
You're the pain in the arse,
basically.
My, um...
My mom always says
about relationships
that one of you is the gardener
and the other one's the garden.
Right.
What does that mean?
Don't know.
I fucking hate gardening.
What happened here is unknown,
but over 13 years ago,
two bodies were buried
in this garden.
Only discovered
by police on Thursday,
officers were led to the house
after receiving information
last week
about an alleged incident
in the late 1990s.
Our enquiries have confirmed
that in 1998, an elderly couple,
named William
and Patricia Wycherley,
resided at the address
in question.
We have, of course,
been in contact
with former neighbors
and relatives
of the Wycherleys,
and they've painted a picture
of a quiet couple
who kept themselves
to their selves,
and who appeared to have
very few close friends
or assoc...
I didn't finish that crossword.
Oh, well.
We can have another look
at it later.
I've pressed
your suit for you.
Thank you.
In case you get
a second interview for that job.
I won't get a second interview.
It's been a week.
Now, why would you say that?
Why would you give up?
Because it was
a terrible interview!
They've all been terrible.
It was a waste of time,
and it was humiliating.
Have the... police replied
to your message?
No, they haven't.
And to tell you the truth...
I just think
that the more we run,
the more guilty we'll seem.
They won't believe us.
I'm going for a shower.
Forensics confirms that one
of the bodies is male,
the other is female.
We recovered
two .38-caliber bullets
from each of the wrappings
around the body.
Looks most likely that both
were shot twice in the chest
using the same weapon.
Obviously, we are yet to hear
any more from the Edwardses,
but I think it's fair to say
that whoever killed these people
probably killed them on purpose.
Bon appétit.
Thank you.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Sorry, Chris.
- Wh... What's the matter?
- I'm so sorry.
- It's all my fault.
- Hey.
- No, it's not, Susan.
- It is.
It's not your fault.
Don't you ever think that.
I've ruined your life.
Oh!
You haven't ruined my life.
How can you say such a thing?
- Because...
- You are my life.
You're my whole life.
You know that.
Come on, now.
Everything's gonna be just...
fine.
Everything
is gonna be all right.
Okay, baby?
I promise.
Dear DCI Collier,
we note the growing notoriety
of your inquest
and possible assumptions
about our involvement.
We have, therefore,
decided to return
to England immediately.
We prefer this approach
rather than to leave ourselves
open to a surprise arrest,
since my wife is already
sufficiently frightened.
Sorry to interrupt, but,
uh, this just came in
from Christopher Edwards, sir.
You, get me London.
Yes, sir.
- You, get me the British Transport Police, ASAP.
- Yeah, on it, sir.
Emma, where the fuck are ya?
Later this evening,
my wife and I
will board the Eurostar
and surrender ourselves
to the authorities
at St. Pancras Station.
We do have
one small favor to ask.
Since same-day tickets
are so pricey,
and we find ourselves
a bit short of funds
at the moment,
could you be so kind
as to arrange tickets for us
on the 23.34 departure
from Lille?
We should then arrive shortly
before midnight
if there are no delays.
Yours sincerely,
Christopher Edwards.
Tickets booked, sir.
Coach five, seats 61 and 62.
Brilliant. Get in the back.
- What?
- I'm not getting in the fucking back. Are you joking?
- Sorry, can you just bear with for a sec?
- Come on. Fuck's sake.
- Back door lock might be on.
- Can you let me in?
- It's a child lock or summat.
- Fuck's sake.
- The country's finest spring into action.
- Fucking hell. Right.
- Yeah, what were you saying?
- Buckle up. Come on.
I do beg your pardon, we
just needed to sort something else out.
Come on, love.
Susan, we really need
to get that train.
Please?
It's not so bad
now we're on our way, is it?
Feel quite calm, actually.
You know, I think it's a good
thing that you spoke to Tabitha
and that she told the police.
It's about time they knew,
isn't it?
- Hmm.
- They ought to know.
And what have we got
to worry about?
We know what happened.
We just have to stick
to the plan and tell them.
Don't we? Like we've been
saying, stick to the plan.
That's right, darling.
Stick to the plan.
How much money have you got?
- Not much.
- How much?
About...
two euros something.
I've got one and a bit.
Hand it over.
Might as well use it up!
Do you know
what I find weird, though?
It's those long scotch eggs.
Do you know the ones
that you get
at service stations?
Oh, my God, yeah.
It's all powdered, isn't it?
First time I saw it, I was like,
"Show me the chicken
that laid that egg."
Do you know what I mean?
- Did you say something, Emma?
- What?
No, just saying about
those long scotch eggs.
Service stations.
Like, "Show me the chicken
that laid that."
- 'Cause it's a weird egg.
- Yeah.
Fuck's sake. Is this thing on?
Hey.
Guess who I thought
I just saw in the buffet car.
- Who?
- Gérard.
- Depardieu?
- Yeah, Gérard Depardieu.
He was heading over
from business class
and I thought,
"Oh, my goodness, that's him!"
But it wasn't?
No. Can't have been, can it?
No, it's just someone
who looked like him.
...fucking saying.
I am just spending a few seconds
alone with my own daughter.
What do you need?
Just get down the staircase.
Go on, just get up
to your bedroom!
Oh, Chris.
It's all right.
I'm stronger than I look.
Chris, I don't think
I can say goodbye to you.
No one is saying goodbye,
my love.
There are no goodbyes
between us.
I'll never leave you.
You know that.
Never.
Give me your passport.
Are you ready, darling?
Suppose so.
- DCI Collier, Nottingham Police.
- Sir.
I'm the SIO.
The next train
to arrive at platform 11
will be the 23.34...
- Right, I'll take up here.
- ...Eurostar service
- from Lille.
- I'll go up and round.
The next train
to arrive at plat...
You got eyes on them, Paul?
Over.
Where did they say
to meet them?
By the south-west...
exit of the St. Pancras Hotel
car park,
which I think is this way.
Paul, come in.
Have you got eyes on them? Over.
Not yet, sir,
but eyes peeled. Over.
Sorry. Excuse me.
Terribly sorry.
I think I might
have spotted them, sir.
What are they doing?
They're just sort
of walking, sir.
In your direction. Over.
Remember,
one step at a time...
...like we said.
They arrest us,
they read us our rights.
We know what we're gonna say.
We've gone through it
a thousand times
and we're ready.
But don't say a word
without a solicitor.
- Right?
- Yes.
And remember, if you don't like
the first one they offer,
ask to meet another.
You're in charge.
Then come the police interviews.
They'll try to confuse you,
but don't let them.
Just tell our story,
simply and calmly.
No need to make anything up.
Just tell them the truth.
Yes, just tell them the truth.
Good evening.
Susan
and Christopher Edwards
might have seemed
like an ordinary couple,
but together, they had carried
a sinister secret
for over fifteen years.
Buried in the rear garden
of this unassuming
Mansfield property
were the bodies
of Susan's parents.
Remains found
last month are believed
to be those of William
and Patricia Wycherley.
Buried in the back garden
of a semi-detached house
at Forest Town in Mansfield.
Following a tip-off,
police make a grim discovery.
One woman said she knew
of an elderly couple
who were here in the '90s.
One day,
they just disappeared.
Everyone assumed
that they'd emigrated,
and no one thought
anything of it.
A postmortem
examination revealed
they'd both been shot twice
with a revolver
similar to this one.
In panic, the Edwards
fled to France
before eventually contacting
police in the UK
when they ran out of money.
In an email,
Christopher Edwards wrote,
"We're going
to surrender ourselves
to the UK authorities."
Late last night,
at St. Pancras Station,
husband and wife Susan
and Christopher Edwards...
...were arrested
on suspicion of murder...
...on their return
from France.
They have since
been escorted
back to Nottinghamshire,
where they'll be held in custody
for the next 24 hours
to be questioned by police.