Landscapers (2021–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - Episode #1.2 - full transcript
'The following programme
contains strong language.'
(TENSE SOUNDTRACK MUSIC)
(MUFFLED ORGAN MUSIC)
CHRIS: 'Just 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.
(MUFFLED GUNSHOTS)
Just don't say a word
without a solicitor. Right?
And remember...you're in charge.
'Then come the police interviews.'
(MUFFLED GUNSHOTS)
'They'll try to confuse you,
but don't let them.'
(POLICE RADIO CHATTER)
'Just tell our story
simply and calmly.
No need to make anything up.
Just tell them the truth.'
(DOOR BUZZES)
(SIREN WAILS)
MAN: 'Ah, hello there, Mrs Edwards.'
'Oh, hello. It's Susan Edwards.
You're being offered as my, um...?'
'Yes. My name is Douglas Hylton.
I'm coming in to help you tonight.'
'Oh, good, because you've heard,
I think, that my husband and I
got ourselves into
a bit of a pickle.
I know it sounds all rather morbid.'
'Susan. Susan, sorry, can I -'
'So, for his sake, everyone should
know the truth from the outset.'
'Susan, this isn't a private call.
I'm not your representative yet.
That's what I'm coming to do now,
to take your instruction,
and then I can...
Does that make sense?'
'I see. Yes, sorry, silly old me.'
Just tell our story simply...
and calmly.
No need to make anything up.
Just tell them the truth.
(MUFFLED GUNSHOTS)
(BUZZING)
(LOCKS CLICK)
(GATE CLUNKS)
(FOOTSTEPS OUTSIDE CELL)
(TUNE BEING WHISTLED QUIETLY)
(THREE KNOCKS ON DOOR)
Oh.
Thank you.
(KEYS JANGLING)
(LOCK CLICKS)
Morning, Susan.
Oh, you came back, then. (GIGGLES)
How was your night?
Oh, you know.
Yeah. First night's the worst.
Ah...the waiting.
Yeah. And also
just not being with Chris.
Even though he's just down
the corridor. Very peculiar.
Yeah.
Still, not for long, though.
Huh?
Sorry.
Ah! Thank you.
Erm, Douglas, I was wondering...
You know your advice...
about not telling
the police anything.
Is that because you
don't believe us?
Um, no. It's just to keep it simple,
so that we don't get tripped up.
To be honest, it's not my job
to have an opinion, really.
My job is to help you.
So, when the police start asking
questions, I just ignore them?
You simply let them know
you prefer not to answer.
Most people like to go with,
"No comment."
"No comment" to everything.
At least until we know...more.
You've gotta remember,
they've only got until tonight
to convince the CPS
that they have enough evidence
to win a trial or get an extension.
If you and Chris don't give them
anything, you might go free.
I can't promise, but it does happen.
OK. So, "No comment."
And how do we let Chris know that
that's the new plan?
I... Erm, we...we don't.
The police aren't mega-keen
on suspects sharing tactics.
It's just Chris never said anything
about "no comment".
We agreed that we would
just tell our story.
We would never have
handed ourselves in if we thought
we had something to hide.
OK, erm...
Tell you what...
How about we...
..write a brief statement.
Just the basics.
Your story in your words,
very short, which I'll read out.
And after that -
"No comment."
Ah, got it. Erm... OK.
So, go for it, as simply as you can.
OK, erm...
The day before my parents' deaths,
I took a National Express coach
from Victoria Coach Station
to Mansfield.
It was route number four-five-O -
it was then -
Er, Susan, sorry.
Could you slow down a bit?
Oh, sorry, sorry.
We don't need the routes and so on.
Just the important stuff.
Oh, OK.
(SOMBRE OPERA MUSIC)
'Ey up. How you feeling?
Fucking wired, mate.
Yeah? Nervous?
Nah, I'm not nervous. I'm wired.
There's a difference.
It's like there's a little
bit of shit in my pants,
but I'm also really excited.
Ah, all power to you, mate.
It's just 15 years, long time
to get their story straight.
(DOOR SQUEAKS OPEN)
CHRIS: 'Just tell our story...
simply and calmly.
No need to make anything up.
Just tell them the truth.'
DOUGLAS: '"On the weekend of
my parents' deaths, in May 1998,
while my husband Christopher
was at our home in London,
I took the National Express coach
number 450
from London to Mansfield
and visited my parents -"'
That was the route number then.
It might be different now,
the way these things go.
Erm, "I... I took the National
Express coach number 450
from London to Mansfield and visited
my parents at their home.
All I'm prepared to say
is that, firstly,
I am not responsible for the death
of my father William Wycherley.
I believe my mother
Patricia Wycherley shot him.
I will say that I did, in fact,
shoot and fatally injure my mother,
but only after severe provocation.
I was in a very fragile
state of mind at the time.
I would like to make it
absolutely clear that my husband
Christopher Edwards had nothing
to do with the deaths of my parents.
He was only made aware
of their deaths by me
one week after the incident."
Signed and dated.
As I've said, it's my handwriting
but it's my client's words.
Thank you, Mr Hylton.
Susan, ARE these your words?
Does that reading accurately reflect
the content of your statement?
No comment.
OK, Susan.
If I go to the end of the statement.
This your signature?
No comment.
It's OK, Susan, you can answer.
Oh, sorry. Yes, that's my signature.
That's all right, Susan.
Your statement's very helpful.
So, tell me, when you say
you went to visit your parents,
what was their address in Mansfield?
5 Braxton Close.
And at that time,
you were 39, just about to turn 40?
Yes.
"No comment."
Erm, again I must stress to you,
that although it's completely...
your decision, my advice remains
that you answer all questions,
"No comment."
No comment.
I can see you're confused, Susan.
Your solicitor and I
are coming from different angles.
But I'm just trying to establish
some extremely basic facts.
So, if you want to, you can answer.
Right?
You say Christopher Edwards
is your husband. When did you marry?
No comment.
Can I ask why you're smiling?
Well...no comment.
Whoa.
We've uncovered some slightly dodgy
financial activity,
which Sandra's looking into,
and apparently they were friends
with Gerard Depardieu...
whatever the fuck
that has to do with anything.
Oh, hello again.
WOMAN: You done?
Yes. Thank you. I-I'm sorry.
Breakfast isn't really my thing.
But my...my compliments
to the chef, though,
or whoever it is that prepares
the microwave packages.
Cos scrambled eggs, they're not
easy to do in bulk, are they?
They often go hard, don't they?
You still going with that?
Oh! Er, no, all done. Thank you.
(DIALOGUE IN FRENCH)
(SUSAN GIGGLES)
CHRIS: It was great.
It wasn't what I expected.
Oh, really?
No.
Apres vous.
Merci. (GIGGLES)
(CHATTER)
SUSAN: Me, too!
ACTRESS:
(SUSAN IN FRENCH)
(CHRIS STRUGGLES WITH FRENCH)
How is it so late?
I've missed the last train!
Well, get a bus.
Or I'll help you with a taxi -
It's already so late!
What's the panic?
It's not the end of the world.
I know it's silly!
But we have...we have this routine.
We usually have a cup of
hot chocolate together at bedtime
and talk about the day.
We've done it since I was little.
It's story time.
Only, I didn't tell him or Mum
that I was gonna be late.
So they'll be waiting up,
wanting to go to bed.
Just phone them.
If they're sleeping,
I'll wake them up.
OK. How about this?
If you want...
If it's easier for your parents,
I mean,
you can stay at mine tonight.
I mean, I'm not... (LAUGHS)
No, er...no funny business. (LAUGHS)
But... I've got me mum staying.
She's on the sofa.
A bit of a long story but er...
But, anyway, I'll sleep
on the floor. You can have my room.
Oh, I couldn't make you do that.
No, honestly. I'd be happy to.
And in the morning,
I can help you get home.
Oh, Chris.
(DOOR CLICKS UNLOCKED)
MACBRIDE: 'Just to confirm
one more time,
Chris, you are content
for this interview to continue
without a solicitor?'
CHRIS: 'I am content.'
I don't need someone
who knows nothing about me
telling me when, and when not,
to speak.
Right, you understand you can change
your mind on that at any time?
So, I've been told.
In fact,
people won't stop telling me.
Right. Thank you.
I can't say I didn't know.
Right, Mr Edwards.
Before we begin
with specific questions,
is there anything you would
like to tell us from the outset,
anything about
why you think you're here?
Yes, I would. Thank you. Ah...
The following is an account
of the events as I recall them.
On a bank holiday weekend
in May, 1998,
my wife Susan Edwards took a coach
from London to visit her parents,
William and Patricia Wycherley,
in Mansfield.
I myself remained at home in London.
Now, I went with my wife
to Mansfield...
the following weekend
and only then
learned of the tragic events
that had transpired
the previous weekend,
ie, the death of her parents.
I wanted to ring the police,
of course,
but my wife can be very fragile
and she convinced me
that nobody would understand
the complexity of what had happened
and why she was not at fault.
That's when we er...
when we did what families
traditionally used to do -
still do in many parts of the world,
in fact - which is to inter them,
uh, respectfully,
in their own home dwelling.
Or domicile, if you will.
'I mean the thing that's really
tortured me all these years
is had I been with her
on that previous, fateful weekend,
none of this would have happened,
you can be sure of that,
and we wouldn't be sitting here
right now, you gentlemen and I, no.'
'Right, one last question.
Do you happen to recall
the coach company
you and Susan took up to Mansfield?'
'National Express.
Route four-five-O, as it was then.
It might have changed now,
the way these things go.'
'All right, well, I think
we've covered the crux of it,
so erm...we'll take a break there
and pick things up later,
if you don't mind, Mr Edwards.'
'Happy to oblige.'
"Happy to oblige" with the same
bollocks wifey's peddling!
Only difference is
she's got a solicitor.
Yeah, but they've given us
a confession, haven't they?
Of sorts.
WILKIE: Er, "Dear Christophaire,
it was a big mistake to tell
your stepmuzzaire about ze-"
Shut it, Gerard!
What do you reckon they'd get
if we take it, sir?
Not enough. Financial stuff aside,
whatever fraud they've committed -
(MOCK FRENCH)
Oh, yeah, worth doing again,
it went so well
the first fucking time(!)
That's Susan up on loss of control
manslaughter for shooting her mum.
Assuming that "severe provocation"
business holds up.
So, what - five years?
Eight at most. And Chris is only
gettin' a year or two if that.
For what?
Interfering with the duties
of a coroner or some vanilla crap.
Which is not bad if they've
actually committed double murder.
Maybe not such idiots after all.
That story won't hold up in court,
though, will it?
Bullet wounds like that.
It's one shooter,
just a question of who.
I reckon we press him on that -
Sir?
I wonder if we could try something?
Mess with their heads a bit.
Go on.
Could I handle both interviews, sir?
You've got big bollocks today,
don't you, Lancing?
This is your statement, Susan,
now labelled as item EL-06.
We're glad to have it,
but it doesn't begin to explain
how your parents wound up dead
and buried in the garden, does it?
Do you have a question
for my client?
Dozens. How did you first learn
your mother shot your father, Susan?
Where were you?
No comment.
Was it daytime or night-time?
No comment.
What about the gun? Whose was it?
Had you seen it before?
No comment.
What did you do with it afterwards?
No comment.
What did you do with the bodies?
No comment.
Did you wrap them in duvets,
put them under the bed?
No comment.
Did you make a phone call
around 2:00am?
Perhaps to your husband,
Christopher?
Is... Is Chris talking?
What about his solicitor?
No, "No comment."
You said he wouldn't talk!
Your husband's opted not to take
legal advice, Mrs Edwards.
Have you told him it's free?
He knows it's free.
It's just he's chosen
to be cooperative.
He's told my colleagues
everything he can, Susan.
Which makes me look a bit silly,
to be honest.
I'm meant to be the smart one, but
it's Bill and Ben in the other room
getting all the juicy stuff
from your very charming husband.
Only, he wasn't there,
was he, Susan, that night?
So, we're inclined to think
he might be making it all up.
You do want us to know the truth,
don't you?
My advice remains -
You said he wouldn't talk!
Now he's doing one thing, I'm doing
another, and we're not together.
I'm sorry.
It's actually...it...it's quite...
erm, strange.
Does Chris know anything -
Chris is very clever man.
Don't worry.
Perhaps you'd like to take a -
No, I would not!
'OK, Susan,
can we go back to the beginning?'
'Yes, of course.'
'Thank you. Let's break it down
one step at a time.'
Big balls.
Er, do you want me
to leave you alone for a bit?
Or I can show you
where to get some fresh air -
Oh, I'm fine, thank you.
OK.
You're doing really well.
Am I?
Yeah. Er, definitely.
Just...stay strong.
Try not to take the bait.
OK.
It's October 31st, 2013.
The time is 13:31.
Interview with Christopher Edwards.
Hello, Mr Edwards.
How are you today?
Never better. May I ask what
happened to the other two officers?
Something more important than this,
apparently.
Very rude, if you ask me.
But, anyway...
And thank you for providing
such a thorough account
of the awful events of May 1998.
It's a very sad story, Mr Edwards.
It is. Yes I'm...very happy to help.
Would you mind
if we just review a few things?
Not at all, Detective Constable.
Susan was up with her parents
in Mansfield.
You're at home in London,
in Dagenham.
She rings you up
in the middle of the night.
You answer. What does she say?
Nothing, really. She couldn't
tell me anything. She was too upset.
'Upset about what?'
I need you, Chris.
It's all wrong without you.
'Well, she'd had a terrible night.
Her mother was drunk,
her father abusive.
The usual story, I'm sad to say.'
I can't wait to get back...
to London.
'And the next time you see her,
you say, is the following Tuesday?
After the bank holiday Monday.'
CHRIS: 'Indeed.'
'At Victoria Coach Station.'
'That's right.'
'You say she'd not told you anything
about what had happened,
but was there anything that struck
you as unusual about her? Her mood?'
'Yes, she was odd...quiet.
She said er...
What was it? Something like...'
It was the most awful weekend,
Chris. Really dreadful.
I need a drink.
'Which was very unusual.
She almost never drinks.
I remember she asked
for a port and brandy.'
Port and brandy?
Er, yes. Port and brandy.
For the nerves.
Shot of brandy,
shot and a half of port.
Right.
OK. Port and brandy.
And what did you have to drink?
Erm...well, I didn't want a drink.
I had a cup of tea. Earl Grey.
So, you go up to the house
the next weekend...
week after Susan first went up,
she having said nothing
that whole week,
about having killed her parents.
About her mother killing her father.
About her killing her mother, then.
She was provoked.
Provoked. So you say.
So, SHE says.
So you both say. Very neat.
Look...
I'm not gonna sit here and pretend
I don't know it's a defence...
provocation.
"Loss of control" you call it now,
I believe.
Reducing murder to manslaughter.
You've done your homework!
It's good I have.
You've just arrested my wife
for murder,
whereas in truth
all she's ever done is suffer.
And I don't think anyone should
go to prison for that, do you?
And as for that night - no, no,
she couldn't have shot them both,
because she couldn't have done
anything to hurt her father.
I know her.
I know her better than you.
He had too much power over her.
Trouble is, it looks to us
like your in-laws
were both shot from a similar angle,
perhaps by the same person.
Well, I don't know anything about
that, but Susan didn't lie to me.
(COACH ARRIVING)
OK. Let's get back to you, then,
Mr Edwards.
That following Friday, you both
take the coach up to Mansfield.
That is correct. The Friday,
right after I finished work.
And she still hasn't told you?
I'm getting to that.
It wasn't until we arrived
at the house.
First, we picked up fish and chips.
We always have fish and chips
on Fridays.
It's just when I'm tucking in that
Susan starts to act a bit different
and suddenly she says
something like -
I can't stand it any more.
They haven't gone away.
They're upstairs.
And I'm,
"What are they doing upstairs?
Why don't they come down
and say hello?"
Something like that.
And then I don't remember
the exact words
but then she says something like...
Because they're dead.
(LAUGHS WITH DISBELIEF)
And I'm, you know...
"What do you mean?"
It's a surreal...disbelief thing.
I lose all interest
in my haddock and chips.
And I love haddock and chips.
It's my favourite.
A big deal, then?
Well, I've not had a single bite
of haddock since that day.
Strictly cod.
Isn't there a smell?
What? Ah, you mean a fish smell?
It was warm that week. We checked.
Yeah, but it was night
when we ate our fish and chips.
The point is that the bodies
would've been lying there for days.
Forgive the unpleasant image -
they're your in-laws after all -
but there would've been
quite a stench.
Ah. I er... Yes, well, I know.
That's one of the er...
But, no, I didn't smell it.
But Susan... Susan said...
Or, well, later I think she said
that there had been an awful smell.
But, no, I didn't...
notice it at the time...myself.
Hard to explain, really.
Except, of course,
that the house always smelt
overwhelmingly of cigarettes
because of her parents.
(CLEARS THROAT)
(MIMICS GUNSHOTS PLAYFULLY)
(HE PRETENDS TO GROAN)
Sandra!
Sandra!
There you are.
You're looking for me?
Oh. Yes, sir. Sorry.
Why you apologising?
I hear you've found something good.
Just make it quick.
We're in the middle of interviews.
I spent the morning
at the branch in town.
In the archive room.
Oh, bank archives.
The glamour never stops, does it?
(LAUGHS) Yeah! It won't stop. Um...
But, yeah -
Excuse me.
Er, this is a bank statement
for a joint account.
Susan Edwards
and Patricia Wycherley.
Right. And if you look over here...
that's the date
the account was opened.
This is good, Sandra.
This is very good. Come with me.
Come here! Fuck's sake!
I'm not gonna eat ya'!
'First of all, Susan,
I'd like to introduce you
to Officer Sandra Winters.'
Hello.
Officer Winters is a member of
our Forensic Financial Department.
Oh, my husband's an accountant!
Can you look at this bank document,
please? Police Item CKA-04, Sandra.
Do you recognise that?
That's a bank account statement
showing the joint account you opened
in your name and your mum's.
Can you read the date there, please?
Left-hand side.
5th of May.
5th of May, 1998.
So, talk me through it.
You kill your mother.
Your father's dead as well.
You dispose of the gun and then
first thing Tuesday morning,
after the bank holiday -
9:17am to be specific -
you transfer a bank account
into you and your mother's names
and withdraw almost half the funds.
In cash.
In cash.
Yes, I... I...can't remember.
You don't need to remember.
It's all there in the document.
CHRIS: Well, yes, as I say,
she's been er...
Sometimes she's simply
economical with the truth.
We all are sometimes.
But this... This is difficult.
It's straight after the killings.
It's obscene. It's mercenary.
And, to be honest with you,
it's a little bit daft.
Well, I think
she was obviously very -
It's not confusion, Chris, is it?
Bang, bang, open a bank account.
Well, yes, I...
You said the word, I suppose.
Mercenary. But...
Is there something
you're not telling us, Chris?
Something that could help Susan?
Because at the moment,
this doesn't paint
a very pretty picture, does it?
It's...
(CLEARS THROAT)
It's a very personal matter.
Personal?
I'll tell you what's personal.
Being shot in your own house,
kept under the bed for a week
and buried in your own backyard
for 15 years.
I'd like it on record
that I don't think it's very fair
what I've just said about Susan -
or rather what you said.
It does her a grave disservice
to call her "mercenary".
Why?
Because Susan has always had...
..much bigger things to worry about
than money.
(WIND WHISTLING)
(DOOR HINGES SQUEAK)
Right. Clean sheets on yesterday,
in case you're wondering.
Here's a towel. Toothbrush.
Thank you.
Are you sure this is all right?
Yeah, of course, yeah.
Yeah, it's my pleasure.
Is your mum OK?
(SHE GRUNTS SOFTLY)
Yeah, she's fine.
She's er...
She's not very well at the moment.
Well, I had a very good time
with you tonight, Susan.
Me, too.
Have a good sleep
and I'll see you in the morning.
Good night.
Good night, Chris.
(DOOR CLOSES)
(DISHES CLATTERING)
You OK for coffee?
Everything's good, Mum. Thanks.
It's very nice.
Eggs aren't her strong suit.
It was so nice of her
to cook for us.
Oh...
(CLATTERING)
I'm sorry. I really should go.
All right.
Thank you.
All right, then?
Both done?
Oop! Oh, silly me.
You going already, Susan?
I'm sorry. I've had a lovely time.
Thank you for your hospitality.
And you're walking her back.
Lovely. Chivalry lives!
Separate rooms and everything.
Christopher, I know I embarrass you.
But I was right about
the dating agency, wasn't I, hmm?
It was my idea.
Might even give it a go myself.
(CHUCKLES)
It was very nice to meet you.
You too, Susan.
And hopefully,
we'll be seeing each other again.
OK.
Look, maybe we should
just say goodbye here.
Oh.
All right, then. Goodbye.
Bye.
(THEY CHUCKLE NERVOUSLY)
Bye.
Bye.
You've met MY mother!
(GIGGLES)
You're embarrassed of me!
They're just old-fashioned!
Maybe next time!
(MAN SHOUTING INSIDE)
Can you let me in?
(KNOCKS) Mum?
Dad, please, can you let me in?
I can explain.
(ARGUING INSIDE)
(SUSAN KNOCKS AGAIN)
(SUSAN CONTINUES KNOCKING)
(STIRRING INSTRUMENTAL
WESTERN MUSIC)
(MUSIC SWELLS)
(HE EXHALES)
(KEYS JANGLING)
Sorry to keep you waiting, Susan.
I know it's been a long day already.
What we need now are your words
on exactly what happened that night.
Chris can't really tell us,
because er...
according to you both,
he wasn't there.
Only you were there.
Now, you say that your mother
shot your father.
That's not something
that happens every day, is it?
So the obvious question...is why?
No comment.
Oh.
I thought you were feeling a bit
more comfortable talking to us.
What happened, Susan?
Was there an argument or
disagreement between them?
No comment.
What did you feel when you saw your
father there, dead on the floor?
Your mother having shot him.
I felt terrible.
Terrible.
That's a normal reaction, Susan.
But what do you do
- with that emotion?
- No comment.
Do you confront your mother?
No comment.
What's she say to you?
These questions have to be answered.
They DON'T have to be answered.
That's not true.
But this is a horrible event,
isn't it?
Two people shot dead.
Your own parents.
This is what I mean by bait.
But it's not a full explanation
to say you're simply "provoked".
People are gonna provide
their own answers if you don't.
You don't have to say anything.
No comment.
The bank account you opened
the day after the killings, Susan.
The pensions you collected,
the sale of the house,
all those debts you had to cover.
That feels like a slightly better
explanation, doesn't it -
to someone who wasn't there -
that this really was about money?
After all, you'd not
seen your parents for over a year,
you say, and then suddenly
you pay them a visit.
And then they die.
But it wasn't, as I said -
We've just been with your husband.
Do you know what word he used
to describe your behaviour
with that bank account?
Mercenary.
And, I'm sorry, but I'm inclined
to think a jury would agree.
He wouldn't say that.
It might be useful for my client -
It's on tape, Susan.
Chris told us
something else as well, Susan,
that I'd like to ask you about
if you're comfortable with it.
He said that your mother
told you something that night
that you didn't know.
What did your mother
tell you that night?
She said um...
She said um...
Sorry.
Must have been very hard
for him to tell you that.
Can I just... I'm sorry -
It's OK, sir, I'll explain.
I know how hard it is.
But it'll be better for -
I just said, I'll explain it.
Even while I was sleeping,
I was aware of shouting,
some sort of row.
But that was nothing unusual
in that household, not at all.
And as I told you,
I had been drinking a little...
a little more than normal.
I... I don't normally drink.
(TWO GUNSHOTS)
'I don't know what time it is.
Maybe 2:00am.
And I've been woken by these bangs.'
'How many bangs?'
'Er... I dunno. I was asleep.
Two, maybe? Or just one.
Definitely not three.'
'One or two?'
'Yes.'
And I know immediately
that my father's dead.
I don't know how I know,
I just know.
And my mum is standing there
with a gun.
There are brass casings
on the floor.
Brass casings?
Yeah, erm, spent bullets, I suppose.
And I can tell she's even more drunk
than she was when I went to bed.
Then I say something like, "What
have you done? You've killed him!"
Something like that.
It was a long time ago.
And she says -
I can't give you the exact words -
but she says something like...
I had to.
I can't take it any more, Susan!
I couldn't look at him.
Something along those lines.
And then she turns on me
and she's actually waving the gun
at me at this point -
God knows why you care, after
everything you've been through,
grubby little man.
Horrible, horrible man.
(LAUGHS)
What a disgusting
piece of work he was.
And then she throws the gun
on the bed somewhere about here,
so I pick it up.
He treated me
as though he was disgusted with me.
Er, sorry, Susan.
Yes?
Why'd you pick up the gun?
Er, it's just, well,
she'd been waving it at me
and she was drunk
and I suppose I was afraid
that she was gonna
pick it up again.
Erm, so anyway, and then she starts
saying that thing.
I hated him.
For years, I hated him.
And I hate you too.
Cos when I look at you,
I know I failed.
(SOBS) I failed you, Susan,
and I know that.
I know what he did to you.
I knew it and I just let it happen.
How do you think I feel about that?
You knew, Mum? You knew?
Look, of course, I fucking knew.
I'm your mother, aren't I?!
He didn't even want me after that!
He couldn't do it.
He couldn't even get it up!
I've spent 15 years
trying to forget what she said
so I can't tell you exactly,
but it was something like that.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I am so sorry, Susan.
I'm not a monster.
I did my best.
We had some good times together,
didn't we?
Even though
you were a difficult child.
All I could think of was,
"I want to call my husband."
I even said,
"We should call Christopher.
He'd know what to do."
(LAUGHS) Give up, Susan.
You think he's different
but he's not.
He's not gonna help you.
He's the same as all the others.
He's just using you for the sex.
No, Mum! And then I keep crying
and she keeps saying these things.
He doesn't love you!
Just accept it before you get hurt.
Nobody loves you!
Stop! Please stop!
God knows I tried
but it's impossible.
You're impossible to love!
Stop it, Mum! Stop it!
With your miserable little life,
it would be better for all of us
if you'd never been born!
(GUNSHOTS)
I just want to confirm the
implications of what you're saying.
Are you telling us that your father
abused you as a child?
Yes.
Sexually?
Yes.
And that night you discovered that
your mother had known all along?
Yes.
And you'd never told her?
I was always too afraid
of what my father might do.
I spent my whole life
just trying to wish it away.
Thinking of
all those years after school
when she was at work and he...
And Chris, your husband.
Are you sure
he wasn't involved in the killings?
I only ask because the bullet holes
on your parents' chests
were strikingly similar.
And that bank account,
that looks like a plan.
With all this new information today,
some of which is quite important,
as my colleague is pointing out,
we will be applying for extra
custody time so we can continue.
So, we're just trying to get
everything as clear as possible
before we progress.
Er, I think she's been
pretty clear already, don't you?
Are you sure Chris wasn't involved?
He helped you, didn't he?
He decided to protect you.
Susan?
Course, he did.
He always protects me.
Did he bury the bodies for you?
Yes, he buried the bodies.
He's very practical like that.
He has to be, cos I'm not, you see.
So, he has to be.
Ah, Susan, if you wanted a break -
We couldn't tell the police.
He understood that
so he took control.
And so...this was his idea, then...
to bury the bodies?
Yes, it was his idea.
He did that for me.
He's the only person in the world
that's ever made me feel safe.
(WIND WHISTLING)
CHRIS: We'll get it sorted.
He's not allowed to keep you
out of your own house.
Has he always been like that?
It's OK. You don't have to tell me.
No, I...
I do want to tell you.
What is it?
It's just I've...
I've never told anyone else.
Well, whatever it is...
..it'll be between us.
Just you...and me.
(ETHEREAL CHORAL SINGING)
'Susan Edwards had been
at her parents' house
when she was woken by a loud bang.'
(GUNSHOT)
'She'd gone into
her parents' bedroom.'
'Her mother had shot her father.'
'Susan Edwards claimed
an argument then took place,
during which her mother told her
she knew her father had abused her
as a child.'
'Susan Edwards admits manslaughter.'
'Manslaughter.''Manslaughter.'
'She says, killing her mother...'
'..she was provoked..''Provoked.'
'Provoked.'
'..into shooting her.'
'The Edwards claim they returned
to the house a week later
and had sat down
to eat fish and chips
and watch the Eurovision
Song Contest on television
when Susan Edwards suddenly
blurted out, "They're upstairs."
Christopher Edwards said
he went upstairs
to find the Wycherleys dead,
underneath the bed.
'..before then dragging
the two dead bodies down the stairs
and burying them here
in the garden.'
'But prosecutors say
it was all a lie.
They claim the Edwards jointly
planned to kill the Wycherleys.'
'Over the years, the Edwards emptied
the elderly couple's bank accounts.'
'Both she and Christopher Edwards
admit burying the bodies and theft.
But both of them deny murder.'
contains strong language.'
(TENSE SOUNDTRACK MUSIC)
(MUFFLED ORGAN MUSIC)
CHRIS: 'Just 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.
(MUFFLED GUNSHOTS)
Just don't say a word
without a solicitor. Right?
And remember...you're in charge.
'Then come the police interviews.'
(MUFFLED GUNSHOTS)
'They'll try to confuse you,
but don't let them.'
(POLICE RADIO CHATTER)
'Just tell our story
simply and calmly.
No need to make anything up.
Just tell them the truth.'
(DOOR BUZZES)
(SIREN WAILS)
MAN: 'Ah, hello there, Mrs Edwards.'
'Oh, hello. It's Susan Edwards.
You're being offered as my, um...?'
'Yes. My name is Douglas Hylton.
I'm coming in to help you tonight.'
'Oh, good, because you've heard,
I think, that my husband and I
got ourselves into
a bit of a pickle.
I know it sounds all rather morbid.'
'Susan. Susan, sorry, can I -'
'So, for his sake, everyone should
know the truth from the outset.'
'Susan, this isn't a private call.
I'm not your representative yet.
That's what I'm coming to do now,
to take your instruction,
and then I can...
Does that make sense?'
'I see. Yes, sorry, silly old me.'
Just tell our story simply...
and calmly.
No need to make anything up.
Just tell them the truth.
(MUFFLED GUNSHOTS)
(BUZZING)
(LOCKS CLICK)
(GATE CLUNKS)
(FOOTSTEPS OUTSIDE CELL)
(TUNE BEING WHISTLED QUIETLY)
(THREE KNOCKS ON DOOR)
Oh.
Thank you.
(KEYS JANGLING)
(LOCK CLICKS)
Morning, Susan.
Oh, you came back, then. (GIGGLES)
How was your night?
Oh, you know.
Yeah. First night's the worst.
Ah...the waiting.
Yeah. And also
just not being with Chris.
Even though he's just down
the corridor. Very peculiar.
Yeah.
Still, not for long, though.
Huh?
Sorry.
Ah! Thank you.
Erm, Douglas, I was wondering...
You know your advice...
about not telling
the police anything.
Is that because you
don't believe us?
Um, no. It's just to keep it simple,
so that we don't get tripped up.
To be honest, it's not my job
to have an opinion, really.
My job is to help you.
So, when the police start asking
questions, I just ignore them?
You simply let them know
you prefer not to answer.
Most people like to go with,
"No comment."
"No comment" to everything.
At least until we know...more.
You've gotta remember,
they've only got until tonight
to convince the CPS
that they have enough evidence
to win a trial or get an extension.
If you and Chris don't give them
anything, you might go free.
I can't promise, but it does happen.
OK. So, "No comment."
And how do we let Chris know that
that's the new plan?
I... Erm, we...we don't.
The police aren't mega-keen
on suspects sharing tactics.
It's just Chris never said anything
about "no comment".
We agreed that we would
just tell our story.
We would never have
handed ourselves in if we thought
we had something to hide.
OK, erm...
Tell you what...
How about we...
..write a brief statement.
Just the basics.
Your story in your words,
very short, which I'll read out.
And after that -
"No comment."
Ah, got it. Erm... OK.
So, go for it, as simply as you can.
OK, erm...
The day before my parents' deaths,
I took a National Express coach
from Victoria Coach Station
to Mansfield.
It was route number four-five-O -
it was then -
Er, Susan, sorry.
Could you slow down a bit?
Oh, sorry, sorry.
We don't need the routes and so on.
Just the important stuff.
Oh, OK.
(SOMBRE OPERA MUSIC)
'Ey up. How you feeling?
Fucking wired, mate.
Yeah? Nervous?
Nah, I'm not nervous. I'm wired.
There's a difference.
It's like there's a little
bit of shit in my pants,
but I'm also really excited.
Ah, all power to you, mate.
It's just 15 years, long time
to get their story straight.
(DOOR SQUEAKS OPEN)
CHRIS: 'Just tell our story...
simply and calmly.
No need to make anything up.
Just tell them the truth.'
DOUGLAS: '"On the weekend of
my parents' deaths, in May 1998,
while my husband Christopher
was at our home in London,
I took the National Express coach
number 450
from London to Mansfield
and visited my parents -"'
That was the route number then.
It might be different now,
the way these things go.
Erm, "I... I took the National
Express coach number 450
from London to Mansfield and visited
my parents at their home.
All I'm prepared to say
is that, firstly,
I am not responsible for the death
of my father William Wycherley.
I believe my mother
Patricia Wycherley shot him.
I will say that I did, in fact,
shoot and fatally injure my mother,
but only after severe provocation.
I was in a very fragile
state of mind at the time.
I would like to make it
absolutely clear that my husband
Christopher Edwards had nothing
to do with the deaths of my parents.
He was only made aware
of their deaths by me
one week after the incident."
Signed and dated.
As I've said, it's my handwriting
but it's my client's words.
Thank you, Mr Hylton.
Susan, ARE these your words?
Does that reading accurately reflect
the content of your statement?
No comment.
OK, Susan.
If I go to the end of the statement.
This your signature?
No comment.
It's OK, Susan, you can answer.
Oh, sorry. Yes, that's my signature.
That's all right, Susan.
Your statement's very helpful.
So, tell me, when you say
you went to visit your parents,
what was their address in Mansfield?
5 Braxton Close.
And at that time,
you were 39, just about to turn 40?
Yes.
"No comment."
Erm, again I must stress to you,
that although it's completely...
your decision, my advice remains
that you answer all questions,
"No comment."
No comment.
I can see you're confused, Susan.
Your solicitor and I
are coming from different angles.
But I'm just trying to establish
some extremely basic facts.
So, if you want to, you can answer.
Right?
You say Christopher Edwards
is your husband. When did you marry?
No comment.
Can I ask why you're smiling?
Well...no comment.
Whoa.
We've uncovered some slightly dodgy
financial activity,
which Sandra's looking into,
and apparently they were friends
with Gerard Depardieu...
whatever the fuck
that has to do with anything.
Oh, hello again.
WOMAN: You done?
Yes. Thank you. I-I'm sorry.
Breakfast isn't really my thing.
But my...my compliments
to the chef, though,
or whoever it is that prepares
the microwave packages.
Cos scrambled eggs, they're not
easy to do in bulk, are they?
They often go hard, don't they?
You still going with that?
Oh! Er, no, all done. Thank you.
(DIALOGUE IN FRENCH)
(SUSAN GIGGLES)
CHRIS: It was great.
It wasn't what I expected.
Oh, really?
No.
Apres vous.
Merci. (GIGGLES)
(CHATTER)
SUSAN: Me, too!
ACTRESS:
(SUSAN IN FRENCH)
(CHRIS STRUGGLES WITH FRENCH)
How is it so late?
I've missed the last train!
Well, get a bus.
Or I'll help you with a taxi -
It's already so late!
What's the panic?
It's not the end of the world.
I know it's silly!
But we have...we have this routine.
We usually have a cup of
hot chocolate together at bedtime
and talk about the day.
We've done it since I was little.
It's story time.
Only, I didn't tell him or Mum
that I was gonna be late.
So they'll be waiting up,
wanting to go to bed.
Just phone them.
If they're sleeping,
I'll wake them up.
OK. How about this?
If you want...
If it's easier for your parents,
I mean,
you can stay at mine tonight.
I mean, I'm not... (LAUGHS)
No, er...no funny business. (LAUGHS)
But... I've got me mum staying.
She's on the sofa.
A bit of a long story but er...
But, anyway, I'll sleep
on the floor. You can have my room.
Oh, I couldn't make you do that.
No, honestly. I'd be happy to.
And in the morning,
I can help you get home.
Oh, Chris.
(DOOR CLICKS UNLOCKED)
MACBRIDE: 'Just to confirm
one more time,
Chris, you are content
for this interview to continue
without a solicitor?'
CHRIS: 'I am content.'
I don't need someone
who knows nothing about me
telling me when, and when not,
to speak.
Right, you understand you can change
your mind on that at any time?
So, I've been told.
In fact,
people won't stop telling me.
Right. Thank you.
I can't say I didn't know.
Right, Mr Edwards.
Before we begin
with specific questions,
is there anything you would
like to tell us from the outset,
anything about
why you think you're here?
Yes, I would. Thank you. Ah...
The following is an account
of the events as I recall them.
On a bank holiday weekend
in May, 1998,
my wife Susan Edwards took a coach
from London to visit her parents,
William and Patricia Wycherley,
in Mansfield.
I myself remained at home in London.
Now, I went with my wife
to Mansfield...
the following weekend
and only then
learned of the tragic events
that had transpired
the previous weekend,
ie, the death of her parents.
I wanted to ring the police,
of course,
but my wife can be very fragile
and she convinced me
that nobody would understand
the complexity of what had happened
and why she was not at fault.
That's when we er...
when we did what families
traditionally used to do -
still do in many parts of the world,
in fact - which is to inter them,
uh, respectfully,
in their own home dwelling.
Or domicile, if you will.
'I mean the thing that's really
tortured me all these years
is had I been with her
on that previous, fateful weekend,
none of this would have happened,
you can be sure of that,
and we wouldn't be sitting here
right now, you gentlemen and I, no.'
'Right, one last question.
Do you happen to recall
the coach company
you and Susan took up to Mansfield?'
'National Express.
Route four-five-O, as it was then.
It might have changed now,
the way these things go.'
'All right, well, I think
we've covered the crux of it,
so erm...we'll take a break there
and pick things up later,
if you don't mind, Mr Edwards.'
'Happy to oblige.'
"Happy to oblige" with the same
bollocks wifey's peddling!
Only difference is
she's got a solicitor.
Yeah, but they've given us
a confession, haven't they?
Of sorts.
WILKIE: Er, "Dear Christophaire,
it was a big mistake to tell
your stepmuzzaire about ze-"
Shut it, Gerard!
What do you reckon they'd get
if we take it, sir?
Not enough. Financial stuff aside,
whatever fraud they've committed -
(MOCK FRENCH)
Oh, yeah, worth doing again,
it went so well
the first fucking time(!)
That's Susan up on loss of control
manslaughter for shooting her mum.
Assuming that "severe provocation"
business holds up.
So, what - five years?
Eight at most. And Chris is only
gettin' a year or two if that.
For what?
Interfering with the duties
of a coroner or some vanilla crap.
Which is not bad if they've
actually committed double murder.
Maybe not such idiots after all.
That story won't hold up in court,
though, will it?
Bullet wounds like that.
It's one shooter,
just a question of who.
I reckon we press him on that -
Sir?
I wonder if we could try something?
Mess with their heads a bit.
Go on.
Could I handle both interviews, sir?
You've got big bollocks today,
don't you, Lancing?
This is your statement, Susan,
now labelled as item EL-06.
We're glad to have it,
but it doesn't begin to explain
how your parents wound up dead
and buried in the garden, does it?
Do you have a question
for my client?
Dozens. How did you first learn
your mother shot your father, Susan?
Where were you?
No comment.
Was it daytime or night-time?
No comment.
What about the gun? Whose was it?
Had you seen it before?
No comment.
What did you do with it afterwards?
No comment.
What did you do with the bodies?
No comment.
Did you wrap them in duvets,
put them under the bed?
No comment.
Did you make a phone call
around 2:00am?
Perhaps to your husband,
Christopher?
Is... Is Chris talking?
What about his solicitor?
No, "No comment."
You said he wouldn't talk!
Your husband's opted not to take
legal advice, Mrs Edwards.
Have you told him it's free?
He knows it's free.
It's just he's chosen
to be cooperative.
He's told my colleagues
everything he can, Susan.
Which makes me look a bit silly,
to be honest.
I'm meant to be the smart one, but
it's Bill and Ben in the other room
getting all the juicy stuff
from your very charming husband.
Only, he wasn't there,
was he, Susan, that night?
So, we're inclined to think
he might be making it all up.
You do want us to know the truth,
don't you?
My advice remains -
You said he wouldn't talk!
Now he's doing one thing, I'm doing
another, and we're not together.
I'm sorry.
It's actually...it...it's quite...
erm, strange.
Does Chris know anything -
Chris is very clever man.
Don't worry.
Perhaps you'd like to take a -
No, I would not!
'OK, Susan,
can we go back to the beginning?'
'Yes, of course.'
'Thank you. Let's break it down
one step at a time.'
Big balls.
Er, do you want me
to leave you alone for a bit?
Or I can show you
where to get some fresh air -
Oh, I'm fine, thank you.
OK.
You're doing really well.
Am I?
Yeah. Er, definitely.
Just...stay strong.
Try not to take the bait.
OK.
It's October 31st, 2013.
The time is 13:31.
Interview with Christopher Edwards.
Hello, Mr Edwards.
How are you today?
Never better. May I ask what
happened to the other two officers?
Something more important than this,
apparently.
Very rude, if you ask me.
But, anyway...
And thank you for providing
such a thorough account
of the awful events of May 1998.
It's a very sad story, Mr Edwards.
It is. Yes I'm...very happy to help.
Would you mind
if we just review a few things?
Not at all, Detective Constable.
Susan was up with her parents
in Mansfield.
You're at home in London,
in Dagenham.
She rings you up
in the middle of the night.
You answer. What does she say?
Nothing, really. She couldn't
tell me anything. She was too upset.
'Upset about what?'
I need you, Chris.
It's all wrong without you.
'Well, she'd had a terrible night.
Her mother was drunk,
her father abusive.
The usual story, I'm sad to say.'
I can't wait to get back...
to London.
'And the next time you see her,
you say, is the following Tuesday?
After the bank holiday Monday.'
CHRIS: 'Indeed.'
'At Victoria Coach Station.'
'That's right.'
'You say she'd not told you anything
about what had happened,
but was there anything that struck
you as unusual about her? Her mood?'
'Yes, she was odd...quiet.
She said er...
What was it? Something like...'
It was the most awful weekend,
Chris. Really dreadful.
I need a drink.
'Which was very unusual.
She almost never drinks.
I remember she asked
for a port and brandy.'
Port and brandy?
Er, yes. Port and brandy.
For the nerves.
Shot of brandy,
shot and a half of port.
Right.
OK. Port and brandy.
And what did you have to drink?
Erm...well, I didn't want a drink.
I had a cup of tea. Earl Grey.
So, you go up to the house
the next weekend...
week after Susan first went up,
she having said nothing
that whole week,
about having killed her parents.
About her mother killing her father.
About her killing her mother, then.
She was provoked.
Provoked. So you say.
So, SHE says.
So you both say. Very neat.
Look...
I'm not gonna sit here and pretend
I don't know it's a defence...
provocation.
"Loss of control" you call it now,
I believe.
Reducing murder to manslaughter.
You've done your homework!
It's good I have.
You've just arrested my wife
for murder,
whereas in truth
all she's ever done is suffer.
And I don't think anyone should
go to prison for that, do you?
And as for that night - no, no,
she couldn't have shot them both,
because she couldn't have done
anything to hurt her father.
I know her.
I know her better than you.
He had too much power over her.
Trouble is, it looks to us
like your in-laws
were both shot from a similar angle,
perhaps by the same person.
Well, I don't know anything about
that, but Susan didn't lie to me.
(COACH ARRIVING)
OK. Let's get back to you, then,
Mr Edwards.
That following Friday, you both
take the coach up to Mansfield.
That is correct. The Friday,
right after I finished work.
And she still hasn't told you?
I'm getting to that.
It wasn't until we arrived
at the house.
First, we picked up fish and chips.
We always have fish and chips
on Fridays.
It's just when I'm tucking in that
Susan starts to act a bit different
and suddenly she says
something like -
I can't stand it any more.
They haven't gone away.
They're upstairs.
And I'm,
"What are they doing upstairs?
Why don't they come down
and say hello?"
Something like that.
And then I don't remember
the exact words
but then she says something like...
Because they're dead.
(LAUGHS WITH DISBELIEF)
And I'm, you know...
"What do you mean?"
It's a surreal...disbelief thing.
I lose all interest
in my haddock and chips.
And I love haddock and chips.
It's my favourite.
A big deal, then?
Well, I've not had a single bite
of haddock since that day.
Strictly cod.
Isn't there a smell?
What? Ah, you mean a fish smell?
It was warm that week. We checked.
Yeah, but it was night
when we ate our fish and chips.
The point is that the bodies
would've been lying there for days.
Forgive the unpleasant image -
they're your in-laws after all -
but there would've been
quite a stench.
Ah. I er... Yes, well, I know.
That's one of the er...
But, no, I didn't smell it.
But Susan... Susan said...
Or, well, later I think she said
that there had been an awful smell.
But, no, I didn't...
notice it at the time...myself.
Hard to explain, really.
Except, of course,
that the house always smelt
overwhelmingly of cigarettes
because of her parents.
(CLEARS THROAT)
(MIMICS GUNSHOTS PLAYFULLY)
(HE PRETENDS TO GROAN)
Sandra!
Sandra!
There you are.
You're looking for me?
Oh. Yes, sir. Sorry.
Why you apologising?
I hear you've found something good.
Just make it quick.
We're in the middle of interviews.
I spent the morning
at the branch in town.
In the archive room.
Oh, bank archives.
The glamour never stops, does it?
(LAUGHS) Yeah! It won't stop. Um...
But, yeah -
Excuse me.
Er, this is a bank statement
for a joint account.
Susan Edwards
and Patricia Wycherley.
Right. And if you look over here...
that's the date
the account was opened.
This is good, Sandra.
This is very good. Come with me.
Come here! Fuck's sake!
I'm not gonna eat ya'!
'First of all, Susan,
I'd like to introduce you
to Officer Sandra Winters.'
Hello.
Officer Winters is a member of
our Forensic Financial Department.
Oh, my husband's an accountant!
Can you look at this bank document,
please? Police Item CKA-04, Sandra.
Do you recognise that?
That's a bank account statement
showing the joint account you opened
in your name and your mum's.
Can you read the date there, please?
Left-hand side.
5th of May.
5th of May, 1998.
So, talk me through it.
You kill your mother.
Your father's dead as well.
You dispose of the gun and then
first thing Tuesday morning,
after the bank holiday -
9:17am to be specific -
you transfer a bank account
into you and your mother's names
and withdraw almost half the funds.
In cash.
In cash.
Yes, I... I...can't remember.
You don't need to remember.
It's all there in the document.
CHRIS: Well, yes, as I say,
she's been er...
Sometimes she's simply
economical with the truth.
We all are sometimes.
But this... This is difficult.
It's straight after the killings.
It's obscene. It's mercenary.
And, to be honest with you,
it's a little bit daft.
Well, I think
she was obviously very -
It's not confusion, Chris, is it?
Bang, bang, open a bank account.
Well, yes, I...
You said the word, I suppose.
Mercenary. But...
Is there something
you're not telling us, Chris?
Something that could help Susan?
Because at the moment,
this doesn't paint
a very pretty picture, does it?
It's...
(CLEARS THROAT)
It's a very personal matter.
Personal?
I'll tell you what's personal.
Being shot in your own house,
kept under the bed for a week
and buried in your own backyard
for 15 years.
I'd like it on record
that I don't think it's very fair
what I've just said about Susan -
or rather what you said.
It does her a grave disservice
to call her "mercenary".
Why?
Because Susan has always had...
..much bigger things to worry about
than money.
(WIND WHISTLING)
(DOOR HINGES SQUEAK)
Right. Clean sheets on yesterday,
in case you're wondering.
Here's a towel. Toothbrush.
Thank you.
Are you sure this is all right?
Yeah, of course, yeah.
Yeah, it's my pleasure.
Is your mum OK?
(SHE GRUNTS SOFTLY)
Yeah, she's fine.
She's er...
She's not very well at the moment.
Well, I had a very good time
with you tonight, Susan.
Me, too.
Have a good sleep
and I'll see you in the morning.
Good night.
Good night, Chris.
(DOOR CLOSES)
(DISHES CLATTERING)
You OK for coffee?
Everything's good, Mum. Thanks.
It's very nice.
Eggs aren't her strong suit.
It was so nice of her
to cook for us.
Oh...
(CLATTERING)
I'm sorry. I really should go.
All right.
Thank you.
All right, then?
Both done?
Oop! Oh, silly me.
You going already, Susan?
I'm sorry. I've had a lovely time.
Thank you for your hospitality.
And you're walking her back.
Lovely. Chivalry lives!
Separate rooms and everything.
Christopher, I know I embarrass you.
But I was right about
the dating agency, wasn't I, hmm?
It was my idea.
Might even give it a go myself.
(CHUCKLES)
It was very nice to meet you.
You too, Susan.
And hopefully,
we'll be seeing each other again.
OK.
Look, maybe we should
just say goodbye here.
Oh.
All right, then. Goodbye.
Bye.
(THEY CHUCKLE NERVOUSLY)
Bye.
Bye.
You've met MY mother!
(GIGGLES)
You're embarrassed of me!
They're just old-fashioned!
Maybe next time!
(MAN SHOUTING INSIDE)
Can you let me in?
(KNOCKS) Mum?
Dad, please, can you let me in?
I can explain.
(ARGUING INSIDE)
(SUSAN KNOCKS AGAIN)
(SUSAN CONTINUES KNOCKING)
(STIRRING INSTRUMENTAL
WESTERN MUSIC)
(MUSIC SWELLS)
(HE EXHALES)
(KEYS JANGLING)
Sorry to keep you waiting, Susan.
I know it's been a long day already.
What we need now are your words
on exactly what happened that night.
Chris can't really tell us,
because er...
according to you both,
he wasn't there.
Only you were there.
Now, you say that your mother
shot your father.
That's not something
that happens every day, is it?
So the obvious question...is why?
No comment.
Oh.
I thought you were feeling a bit
more comfortable talking to us.
What happened, Susan?
Was there an argument or
disagreement between them?
No comment.
What did you feel when you saw your
father there, dead on the floor?
Your mother having shot him.
I felt terrible.
Terrible.
That's a normal reaction, Susan.
But what do you do
- with that emotion?
- No comment.
Do you confront your mother?
No comment.
What's she say to you?
These questions have to be answered.
They DON'T have to be answered.
That's not true.
But this is a horrible event,
isn't it?
Two people shot dead.
Your own parents.
This is what I mean by bait.
But it's not a full explanation
to say you're simply "provoked".
People are gonna provide
their own answers if you don't.
You don't have to say anything.
No comment.
The bank account you opened
the day after the killings, Susan.
The pensions you collected,
the sale of the house,
all those debts you had to cover.
That feels like a slightly better
explanation, doesn't it -
to someone who wasn't there -
that this really was about money?
After all, you'd not
seen your parents for over a year,
you say, and then suddenly
you pay them a visit.
And then they die.
But it wasn't, as I said -
We've just been with your husband.
Do you know what word he used
to describe your behaviour
with that bank account?
Mercenary.
And, I'm sorry, but I'm inclined
to think a jury would agree.
He wouldn't say that.
It might be useful for my client -
It's on tape, Susan.
Chris told us
something else as well, Susan,
that I'd like to ask you about
if you're comfortable with it.
He said that your mother
told you something that night
that you didn't know.
What did your mother
tell you that night?
She said um...
She said um...
Sorry.
Must have been very hard
for him to tell you that.
Can I just... I'm sorry -
It's OK, sir, I'll explain.
I know how hard it is.
But it'll be better for -
I just said, I'll explain it.
Even while I was sleeping,
I was aware of shouting,
some sort of row.
But that was nothing unusual
in that household, not at all.
And as I told you,
I had been drinking a little...
a little more than normal.
I... I don't normally drink.
(TWO GUNSHOTS)
'I don't know what time it is.
Maybe 2:00am.
And I've been woken by these bangs.'
'How many bangs?'
'Er... I dunno. I was asleep.
Two, maybe? Or just one.
Definitely not three.'
'One or two?'
'Yes.'
And I know immediately
that my father's dead.
I don't know how I know,
I just know.
And my mum is standing there
with a gun.
There are brass casings
on the floor.
Brass casings?
Yeah, erm, spent bullets, I suppose.
And I can tell she's even more drunk
than she was when I went to bed.
Then I say something like, "What
have you done? You've killed him!"
Something like that.
It was a long time ago.
And she says -
I can't give you the exact words -
but she says something like...
I had to.
I can't take it any more, Susan!
I couldn't look at him.
Something along those lines.
And then she turns on me
and she's actually waving the gun
at me at this point -
God knows why you care, after
everything you've been through,
grubby little man.
Horrible, horrible man.
(LAUGHS)
What a disgusting
piece of work he was.
And then she throws the gun
on the bed somewhere about here,
so I pick it up.
He treated me
as though he was disgusted with me.
Er, sorry, Susan.
Yes?
Why'd you pick up the gun?
Er, it's just, well,
she'd been waving it at me
and she was drunk
and I suppose I was afraid
that she was gonna
pick it up again.
Erm, so anyway, and then she starts
saying that thing.
I hated him.
For years, I hated him.
And I hate you too.
Cos when I look at you,
I know I failed.
(SOBS) I failed you, Susan,
and I know that.
I know what he did to you.
I knew it and I just let it happen.
How do you think I feel about that?
You knew, Mum? You knew?
Look, of course, I fucking knew.
I'm your mother, aren't I?!
He didn't even want me after that!
He couldn't do it.
He couldn't even get it up!
I've spent 15 years
trying to forget what she said
so I can't tell you exactly,
but it was something like that.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I am so sorry, Susan.
I'm not a monster.
I did my best.
We had some good times together,
didn't we?
Even though
you were a difficult child.
All I could think of was,
"I want to call my husband."
I even said,
"We should call Christopher.
He'd know what to do."
(LAUGHS) Give up, Susan.
You think he's different
but he's not.
He's not gonna help you.
He's the same as all the others.
He's just using you for the sex.
No, Mum! And then I keep crying
and she keeps saying these things.
He doesn't love you!
Just accept it before you get hurt.
Nobody loves you!
Stop! Please stop!
God knows I tried
but it's impossible.
You're impossible to love!
Stop it, Mum! Stop it!
With your miserable little life,
it would be better for all of us
if you'd never been born!
(GUNSHOTS)
I just want to confirm the
implications of what you're saying.
Are you telling us that your father
abused you as a child?
Yes.
Sexually?
Yes.
And that night you discovered that
your mother had known all along?
Yes.
And you'd never told her?
I was always too afraid
of what my father might do.
I spent my whole life
just trying to wish it away.
Thinking of
all those years after school
when she was at work and he...
And Chris, your husband.
Are you sure
he wasn't involved in the killings?
I only ask because the bullet holes
on your parents' chests
were strikingly similar.
And that bank account,
that looks like a plan.
With all this new information today,
some of which is quite important,
as my colleague is pointing out,
we will be applying for extra
custody time so we can continue.
So, we're just trying to get
everything as clear as possible
before we progress.
Er, I think she's been
pretty clear already, don't you?
Are you sure Chris wasn't involved?
He helped you, didn't he?
He decided to protect you.
Susan?
Course, he did.
He always protects me.
Did he bury the bodies for you?
Yes, he buried the bodies.
He's very practical like that.
He has to be, cos I'm not, you see.
So, he has to be.
Ah, Susan, if you wanted a break -
We couldn't tell the police.
He understood that
so he took control.
And so...this was his idea, then...
to bury the bodies?
Yes, it was his idea.
He did that for me.
He's the only person in the world
that's ever made me feel safe.
(WIND WHISTLING)
CHRIS: We'll get it sorted.
He's not allowed to keep you
out of your own house.
Has he always been like that?
It's OK. You don't have to tell me.
No, I...
I do want to tell you.
What is it?
It's just I've...
I've never told anyone else.
Well, whatever it is...
..it'll be between us.
Just you...and me.
(ETHEREAL CHORAL SINGING)
'Susan Edwards had been
at her parents' house
when she was woken by a loud bang.'
(GUNSHOT)
'She'd gone into
her parents' bedroom.'
'Her mother had shot her father.'
'Susan Edwards claimed
an argument then took place,
during which her mother told her
she knew her father had abused her
as a child.'
'Susan Edwards admits manslaughter.'
'Manslaughter.''Manslaughter.'
'She says, killing her mother...'
'..she was provoked..''Provoked.'
'Provoked.'
'..into shooting her.'
'The Edwards claim they returned
to the house a week later
and had sat down
to eat fish and chips
and watch the Eurovision
Song Contest on television
when Susan Edwards suddenly
blurted out, "They're upstairs."
Christopher Edwards said
he went upstairs
to find the Wycherleys dead,
underneath the bed.
'..before then dragging
the two dead bodies down the stairs
and burying them here
in the garden.'
'But prosecutors say
it was all a lie.
They claim the Edwards jointly
planned to kill the Wycherleys.'
'Over the years, the Edwards emptied
the elderly couple's bank accounts.'
'Both she and Christopher Edwards
admit burying the bodies and theft.
But both of them deny murder.'