Landscapers (2021–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Episode #1.4 - full transcript
'It's just - I need you to...
promise me something, Tabitha erm...
You see, 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?
Er, because I can't...
I can't let Susan down.
Do you understand?
She's very, er, fragile. Yeah.'
'(VEHICLE ENGINE REVVING)'
'Dear Chris...
I've managed to get hold
of a pen and some paper
and so I thought
I'd write you a letter.
There's so much
I want to say to you, Chris,
and maybe, one day,
we'll see each other again
and I'll be able to do it.
Perhaps a little better
than I feel able to now.
You see, I never cared about being
shut out from the real world...
..because I never felt like
I was allowed to arrive here
in the first place.
I'm not here, anyway, am I?
So, what's the difference?
What's the difference between here
and somewhere else in my head?
But I see it now.
That it was different for you.
You had a place in that world...
and then you met me.
So, I just wanted to say
that I understand.
I will love you always...
but I understand.
Yours, Susan.'
Wait there.
I'll be back in minute.
What? Chris. Where are you going?
I'll be back before you know it.
Just hold tight.
..and buried them in
the rear garden of their own house.
They then set about concealing
both the deaths and the burials
for the next 15 years.
But the story that Susan
and Christopher have concocted
is a fantasy.
It is not the truth.
Over the course of this trial,
we will demonstrate
that Susan and Christopher Edwards
are not only audacious
and unrepentant liars,
they are cold-blooded killers
who, with forethought and malice,
jointly agreed to murder
and conceal the bodies
of the helpless Patricia
and William Wycherley.
Thank you.
Good morning, officers.
My step-son left this letter
on my porch early this morning.
'Decomposition begins
almost immediately...
and after three or four days
in a warm environment, the corpse
enters a new phase of decay which we
refer to as putrefaction or bloat.'
The microorganisms
digesting body tissue produce gases
which cause the body to swell -
most visibly in the face,
where the eyes and tongue are pushed
forward, often quite grotesquely.
And these gases
are extremely foul-smelling.
We've all had the misfortune
of smelling "off" chicken.
Now imagine two chickens,
each the size of a human body.
'In many cases,
it induces nausea and vomiting.'
So what are the chances,
would you say,
of Christopher and Susan Edwards
entering a tiny house,
where two adult corpses had lain
for nearly a week
in temperatures
of up to 23 degrees Celsius,
and not immediately smelling them?
Nil.
Yah!
Dr Dickson,
in the Edwards' interviews,
they repeatedly stated
that William Wycherley's limbs
and torso were "stiff".
What would account for that?
Rigor mortis.
Biochemical changes in a dead body
that lead to a stiffening
of the muscles.
Is rigor mortis permanent?
No. Without refrigeration,
it dissipates
approximately three days
after death.
So, could William Wycherley's body
have been stiff
six days after he was killed?
It is highly improbable.
Yet, both Chris and Susan
contend that it was stiff
when they buried it.
Their timescale must be mistaken.
They must have buried William
within three days of death.
When Mr Edwards maintains
he was still in London?
Yes.
Here.
Whoa. Whoa.
With a double-action revolver
like this...
the trigger action has two phases.
The first part of your squeeze,
which takes quite a bit of effort.
I think you can see
the strain on my finger.
What's happening
is the hammer is being pulled back
into firing position
and, at the same time,
the cylinder is advancing
a fresh bullet into the chamber.
Requires quite a deliberate effort
to discharge every bullet.
So not the kind of trigger that you
could pull by mistake, then?
'Not easily, no.
It's a gun. It's not a toy.'
'And the other thing
to consider here
is that the bullet strikes
on the bones
are also extremely similar
in both victims...
and suggests
they were facing the gun.'
'What would your overall conclusion
be, taking all that into account?'
My working assumption would be
that the same shooter
discharged all four bullets,
which is to say
that both William and Patricia
were most likely killed
by the same person,
and that he or she was probably
familiar with this sort of weapon.
It's not like this is
the biggest gun in the world
but it's still quite serious.
Do you know what I mean?
No further questions, My Lady.
I swear by Almighty God
that the evidence I shall give...
..shall be the truth, the whole
truth and nothing but the truth.
What sort of films
did Gary Cooper star in, Mr Edwards?
He was a Hollywood actor
in the '40s and '50s,
is that correct?
And '60s, yes.
And '60s.
Yes, thank you for clarifying.
He was, er,
principally known for Westerns.
But he played a wide range
of characters -
romantic leads, comedies, soldiers.
And, er, of course,
he once played baseball player
Lou Gehrig in Pride Of The Yankees.
But isn't it true, Chris,
that you and your wife
loved stories about the Wild West?
About gunslingers and outlaws?
Well, Susan was the Gary Cooper fan.
And it was all perfectly harmless.
Members of the jury,
please refer to document EL-96.
This is an invoice from 2009,
for an authenticated
Gary Cooper letter costing £2,700.
You spent £2,700
on a Gary Cooper letter
despite being
on the verge of bankruptcy?
It was a gift for Susan.
And we were not
on the verge of bankruptcy.
Mr Edwards, when you and your wife
were arrested
on your return from France,
you had nothing
but a few coins between you.
The only personal belongings you had
were a few signed photos and books.
You personally have a correspondence
with the actor Gerard Depardieu.
So, it is preposterous to suggest
that you were not a participant
in this world of overblown heroes
and Hollywood stars and guns.
If you wanna get into the detail -
Listen to my question -
Well, now you're
interrupting my answer.
You owned a gun of the same calibre
as the one that shot your in-laws,
didn't you?
At one time I owned a revolver
that was capable of taking
.38-calibre cartridges, yes.
You had .38-calibre cartridges.
Not in May 1998, I didn't.
I had neither cartridges
nor firearms. I had sold them.
Your wife hates guns, doesn't she?
She certainly doesn't like them.
You told the police
she was terrified of them.
That she wouldn't even touch one
at the firing range.
That's correct.
She's generally very fragile.
Another thing we haven't spent -
What about you, Chris?
You like guns, don't you?
I'm interested in guns.
I am interested in military history
and guns are simply a part of that.
Chris, could we just clarify
something for the jury?
You used to fire such weapons,
didn't you? Quite often?
Not often, no, because the er...
the club where I did my shooting
was in Earl's Court.
So, from Dagenham,
I had to change trains twice,
so by the time I got home,
it was very late.
And then after Susan moved in,
it started to feel like I...
Well, it wasn't worth it any more,
so I sold the guns
and surrendered
my firearms certificate
and that was in September 1995.
But before you lived with Susan, you
would've happily made the journey?
Yes.
So, what changed?
Susan didn't like me being away
from home for too long
unless it was for work.
Or she didn't like me being away
from HER, perhaps I should say.
But you enjoyed this hobby,
didn't you?
Yes.
Did you feel like it was your choice
to stop making that journey,
or did Susan make you do it?
Um... It was... It was mutual.
And when you buried the bodies,
was that your choice?
Or did Susan make you do it?
It was erm...
Was it mutual?
Yes.
And when you phoned your step-mother
to tell her
about the bodies in the garden,
that was YOUR choice, wasn't it?
That was a choice you made
independently without Susan.
And that is why
we are all here today, isn't it?
You must have been in a great deal
of pain and discomfort
to choose this over what you
could've had in France, with Susan.
I made a choice to marry Susan
because I loved her...
..and since then I've been living
Susan's life with her.
My life didn't really come into it.
It wasn't important any more.
Chris.
Huh?
'Would you be able to show us,
Chris, how to fire a gun?
A .38, for example?'
Well, there are many styles.
My training was in something called
"precision target shooting".
You begin with a pistol
in front of you, unloaded.
And let's say the target is erm...
well, where My Ladyship is.
And you take your position,
bringing up the hand
to make sure you're pointing
naturally in that direction.
Take out the pistol,
fit it to the hand very precisely
cos you need to get
a consistency of grip.
In the case of a revolver,
you put the cartridges into it
and then close it.
Take a couple of gentle,
deep breaths.
And then raise...the pistol.
Breathe out...
..both eyes open.
And what you're looking for...
is something they call
the "surprise break"...
..which is when the shot goes off
without you even thinking about it.
Here, take this.
What do I do with it?
Aargh!
Move forward!
Just run, Susan! Go!
No!
I'll take care of this. Just go now!
No! Not without you.
Susan, I'm begging you!
Just do it!
No! Not without you!
I'll find you.
Susan, I'm begging you. Just run!
I'll be all right.
How did they know we'd be here?
Chris? How did they know?
Susan...
Susan! What are you doing?
Aargh!
Aargh!
Aargh!
'Would you mind speaking up,
please, Mrs Edwards.
It's quite hard to hear
what you're saying.'
'I can't remember clearly, erm...
She had just killed my father,
and she was saying
those dreadful things to me,
and at some point I just...'
'You pulled the trigger?'
'Yes.'
Louder, please, Mrs Edwards.
Yes, I pulled the trigger.
But as we heard from our expert,
such an action would have required
two separate applications of force,
not hair trigger, but deliberate.
Enough to cock it and fire the gun.
Twice. Bang-bang.
You did that?
I... I don't know
exactly how I did it.
I've spent 16 years
trying to forget what happened.
All I know is I was provoked.
Did you even look to see
if you could help your father
when you saw he'd been shot?
No, I didn't
want to look at my father.
It... It was frightening.
Perhaps you might be able to tell me
a little about the brass casings
that you told the police
you saw on the floor
and that you disposed of
with the gun.
Erm...there were casings.
Erm blastings. I...
I don't know, I saw them.
And what did you do with the gun?
To dispose of it?
I wrapped it up
along with the casings that I...
that were on the floor,
and I put it in a bag, and then
I took it into town and I...
put it in an empty rubbish bin
so that other things
would be put on top.
A rubbish bin?
In the middle of the street?
Yeah, it was the Tuesday
after bank holiday.
Then you went directly
from the rubbish bin to the bank,
which we've already discussed.
Where did you go after the bank?
I returned to the house
after buying some air fresheners.
Oh, you bought air fresheners?
Yes, about 20 of them.
Cos I...I thought the bodies
might start to smell
and...and the house already stank
of smoke and nicotine,
and I hated that smell.
You've never mentioned
the air fresheners to the police
and yet after Dr Dickson's
very vivid description
of how a body decomposes,
suddenly you bought 20 of them.
I did... I forgot.
I didn't think it was important.
Did you know, Mrs Edwards,
that a revolver of this type
does not discharge casings?
Did you know that?
No.
Could you speak up please,
Mrs Edwards, so we can all hear you?
Sorry. No.
You didn't know.
But if you had fired the gun,
you would've seen
it produced no casings,
wouldn't you,
and you wouldn't have made them up.
Isn't it a pity
that you didn't go over that detail
with your husband before the arrest?
No, they... I saw them.
They would not have become
part of your story, would they?
No, they were there.
They were there on the floor.
And can you tell me why you wrapped
your parents' bodies
in duvet covers, Mrs Edwards?
To hide them,
to make it as if it hadn't happened.
Cos I didn't want to see them.
I didn't want to look at them.
Is that also why you destroyed
the photographs, the letters,
the diaries, that you burned
outside your apartment in France,
as we heard from the defence?
The intention there
isn't to preserve
the memory of your parents, is it?
That's you trying to wipe your
parents off the face of the Earth.
It wasn't enough
that they were dead.
You had to burn all trace
that they had ever existed.
And they are not here
to defend themselves, are they?
I don't -
The victims of these shootings,
what would they have told us,
do you think?
What would be their side
- of the story?
- Please.
You have painted them
in the worst possible light.
You were their daughter,
weren't you, their only daughter?
No, they said I was a mistake
and they said they never
wanted to get married,
they wouldn't have,
if Mum hadn't got pregnant.
They hated each other
and they didn't want me.
But they must have loved you on
some level, they were your parents.
No, no, cos I'm...
I'm impossible to love.
Mrs Edwards?
I'm impossible to love.
That's what my mother
would say to me all the time
and it's true...
I... I know now that it's true.
Would you like to take a break,
Mrs Edwards,
if you're having
a bit of a fragile moment?
No.
I'm not fragile.
I'm not fragile.
I'm broken.
So, you can't hurt me.
You can send me to prison
and you can all laugh at me
and you can make me look like
a piece of dirt
in front of all these people
but I'm broken so you can't hurt me.
No-one can hurt me any more.
Chris!
Chris!
Chris!
'(GUNSHOT)'
Do you want to get
an ice cream cone?
Yeah. Yeah.
Oh, I'm gonna get strawberry.
'There's not much we can do
about it now, is there?'
I did have one thought, though...
..that maybe we should've told the
barrister or I should have told you
about Gerard Depardieu.
I've never told anyone this before.
Are you sure you wanna tell me?
So, just after Chris's brother
passed away,
I wrote to Gerard Depardieu,
asking for a signed photo
cos I thought it would
cheer Chris up.
He didn't know anything about films
or France when we got together.
But, er, somehow, he did know
about Gerard Depardieu.
'And then, eventually,
after a few weeks of waiting,
I decided I would write
back to Chris
pretending to be Gerard Depardieu.
I practised his signature
until I got it just right.
And I practised his handwriting.
And I put in spelling mistakes
and things,
you know, so it looked like
it was written by a French person.
Well, it worked. He bought it.'
And it made him so happy...
that I just kept doing it.
I kept writing to him,
pretending I was Gerard Depardieu.
And then Chris would write back,
all excited.
But he never knew
that I was behind it all.
Er, where was he sending
the letters?
Oh, well, I thought of all that too.
So, the first one went
to erm... Apartment 16,
Rue Madam Zephirine, 75014 Paris.
And then there was
an address in Belgium.
And later on,
there was an address in Russia.
But I just made them all up.'
Bye, love!
Have a nice day!
'Cos it didn't matter
where they ended up.
I always read his letters
before he sent them,
so I knew exactly how to reply.
And you might think that Chris
would become suspicious
those letters had London postmarks,
but they didn't.
Because I had a franking machine!
Just had to pick a few well chosen
words in the right language
and hey, presto.'
'Wow...and you did all that
just to make Chris happy.'
'I think, even if I told him,
he wouldn't believe me.'
"Good morning,
I'm Gerard Depardieu."
"No, you're not Gerard Depardieu -
you're a librarian from Harlesden,
for crying out loud!"
Least, I don't think he knew.
Mm.
It wouldn't have helped, would it?
Mm-mm.
I get you, Susan.
I don't know why I get you,
but I get you.
And I find that story really sweet.
That you would do something
like that for him.
But other people...
Yeah.
..might not get it.
I just think it wouldn't
have played, that's all,
because you're on trial.
Anything weird,
anything that isn't just "normal",
will make people assume -
They'll think I'm bad news.
And I hate that, by the way.
Because...
..I like that you're you.
Honestly, I... I honestly think
I will carry this experience with me
for the rest of my life because...
..you know what,
you're right, Susan.
I'm lucky.
It's not the same for me.
And you've helped me
to appreciate that.
Not because you're unlucky.
I don't mean it like that, though.
Or maybe I DO mean it like that.
I... I... I dunno.
I'm not saying
that has to define you
or that it's even the reason why
we're here right now in court but...
..they should have looked after you,
Susan.
They were your parents.
You were seven years old.
Do you know how tall
a seven-year-old is? This tall.
This tall.
So, er... I'm still learning.
Maybe I could have done
a better job for you.
I don't know.
I tried my best, I really did.
But I just wanted to make sure
that you understand
that whatever happens today...
..there's a lot
that has happened in your life
that is not on you.
But given that you left home
in your early twenties...
..15 years before the murders,
I cannot accept that his conduct
explains your decision to kill him.
You thought your parents had
deprived you of an inheritance
that was rightfully yours.
I am sure it was you, Christopher
Edwards, who held the gun.
But I have no doubt
that you were acting together,
and I see no reason to distinguish
between you on sentence.
Can you imagine ever, like,
actually murdering someone?
I can imagine it, yeah.
I don't think I'd ever do it,
though.
Why? Are you thinking of trying it?
Bit of murder?
Just trying to imagine
actually having a gun
and pointing it at your...
Your mum and dad.
Yeah. So fucked up.
It's sad.
Yeah. I guess so.
I threatened me dad once...
..when he'd been at me mum.
I sat on it for a bit.
There was no point me
trying anything when he was pissed
cos he'd just kick the shit
out of me.
But a few days later,
when he was watching telly,
I got an axe from the garage
and I went up to the sofa
and I said...
.."If you touch Mum again...
..I'll chop your fucking head off."
Jesus.
How old were you?
12.
Then what happened?
He left.
Shit, man.
Sorry.
Don't fucking hug me, you twat.
OK.
That's not...
Just offering you a hug. Sorry.
Pervert.
Fuck off. Why would I try it on
after a story like that? That's mad.
When WOULD you do it, then?
I don't know.
I'd just ask you out for a drink,
whenever.
Right.
In what way?
Well, in that way, if you're asking.
Are you asking?
Yeah, all right I'm asking.
No, I don't think so. Sorry.
What?
I would in theory.
But...not in practice.
Maybe in, like, ten years.
Just before my eggs start to dry up.
Shall we go for a drink
just as friends, then?
Or as partners even?
I need a bit more than a drink.
It's been quite an intense few days.
Oh, well, like what?
Like a fuck.
No, not with you.
Don't get any ideas.
You're a sensitive lad, I can tell.
It'll get a bit complicated and then
it'll go a bit... Chris and Susan.
But I'm not gonna offer
to kill your dad for ya.
I'm not asking you to.
We're going to the pub.
You're gonna be my wingman.
Fucking wingman?
Yeah.
Fuck off.
Chop, chop.
'Dear Susan,
thank you for your letters,
which I have been very grateful
to receive.
I'm sorry it's taken me
so long to reply.
The first pen I received
was very scratchy
and I wanted you to be able to read
what I was saying.
So I waited to be furnished
with the brand of implement
I originally asked for, which I'm
happy to say is working much better.
In answer to your question
about Tabitha, the truth is, Susan,
that I don't entirely know
why I did that.
But I do think that,
on some level, you are right.
I felt like I was struggling,
and I needed to ask somebody
for help,
something that,
traditionally speaking,
I have not been very good at.
I think, though, that you're wrong
about how I felt, in other ways.
Because I never felt like
I had to leave the real world behind
to be with you, Susan.
If anything, you are the person
who made the world feel real to me.
It wasn't you who made me
feel trapped, Susan.
It was me.'
'In the movies, there are the good
guys and there are the bad guys.
And I think we will have to accept
that, for most people,
we will always be the bad guys.
But we love each other, Susan.
And nobody can take that
away from us.
Yours forever and always...
..Gerard Depardieu.'
Ah, there you are!
Come with me, please.
Checks, please.
Stand by.
Stand by.
Roll sound.
Sound rolling!
All right, let's do this.
Roll camera!
Rolling!
Ladies and gentlemen,
are you all set?
And...action!
promise me something, Tabitha erm...
You see, 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?
Er, because I can't...
I can't let Susan down.
Do you understand?
She's very, er, fragile. Yeah.'
'(VEHICLE ENGINE REVVING)'
'Dear Chris...
I've managed to get hold
of a pen and some paper
and so I thought
I'd write you a letter.
There's so much
I want to say to you, Chris,
and maybe, one day,
we'll see each other again
and I'll be able to do it.
Perhaps a little better
than I feel able to now.
You see, I never cared about being
shut out from the real world...
..because I never felt like
I was allowed to arrive here
in the first place.
I'm not here, anyway, am I?
So, what's the difference?
What's the difference between here
and somewhere else in my head?
But I see it now.
That it was different for you.
You had a place in that world...
and then you met me.
So, I just wanted to say
that I understand.
I will love you always...
but I understand.
Yours, Susan.'
Wait there.
I'll be back in minute.
What? Chris. Where are you going?
I'll be back before you know it.
Just hold tight.
..and buried them in
the rear garden of their own house.
They then set about concealing
both the deaths and the burials
for the next 15 years.
But the story that Susan
and Christopher have concocted
is a fantasy.
It is not the truth.
Over the course of this trial,
we will demonstrate
that Susan and Christopher Edwards
are not only audacious
and unrepentant liars,
they are cold-blooded killers
who, with forethought and malice,
jointly agreed to murder
and conceal the bodies
of the helpless Patricia
and William Wycherley.
Thank you.
Good morning, officers.
My step-son left this letter
on my porch early this morning.
'Decomposition begins
almost immediately...
and after three or four days
in a warm environment, the corpse
enters a new phase of decay which we
refer to as putrefaction or bloat.'
The microorganisms
digesting body tissue produce gases
which cause the body to swell -
most visibly in the face,
where the eyes and tongue are pushed
forward, often quite grotesquely.
And these gases
are extremely foul-smelling.
We've all had the misfortune
of smelling "off" chicken.
Now imagine two chickens,
each the size of a human body.
'In many cases,
it induces nausea and vomiting.'
So what are the chances,
would you say,
of Christopher and Susan Edwards
entering a tiny house,
where two adult corpses had lain
for nearly a week
in temperatures
of up to 23 degrees Celsius,
and not immediately smelling them?
Nil.
Yah!
Dr Dickson,
in the Edwards' interviews,
they repeatedly stated
that William Wycherley's limbs
and torso were "stiff".
What would account for that?
Rigor mortis.
Biochemical changes in a dead body
that lead to a stiffening
of the muscles.
Is rigor mortis permanent?
No. Without refrigeration,
it dissipates
approximately three days
after death.
So, could William Wycherley's body
have been stiff
six days after he was killed?
It is highly improbable.
Yet, both Chris and Susan
contend that it was stiff
when they buried it.
Their timescale must be mistaken.
They must have buried William
within three days of death.
When Mr Edwards maintains
he was still in London?
Yes.
Here.
Whoa. Whoa.
With a double-action revolver
like this...
the trigger action has two phases.
The first part of your squeeze,
which takes quite a bit of effort.
I think you can see
the strain on my finger.
What's happening
is the hammer is being pulled back
into firing position
and, at the same time,
the cylinder is advancing
a fresh bullet into the chamber.
Requires quite a deliberate effort
to discharge every bullet.
So not the kind of trigger that you
could pull by mistake, then?
'Not easily, no.
It's a gun. It's not a toy.'
'And the other thing
to consider here
is that the bullet strikes
on the bones
are also extremely similar
in both victims...
and suggests
they were facing the gun.'
'What would your overall conclusion
be, taking all that into account?'
My working assumption would be
that the same shooter
discharged all four bullets,
which is to say
that both William and Patricia
were most likely killed
by the same person,
and that he or she was probably
familiar with this sort of weapon.
It's not like this is
the biggest gun in the world
but it's still quite serious.
Do you know what I mean?
No further questions, My Lady.
I swear by Almighty God
that the evidence I shall give...
..shall be the truth, the whole
truth and nothing but the truth.
What sort of films
did Gary Cooper star in, Mr Edwards?
He was a Hollywood actor
in the '40s and '50s,
is that correct?
And '60s, yes.
And '60s.
Yes, thank you for clarifying.
He was, er,
principally known for Westerns.
But he played a wide range
of characters -
romantic leads, comedies, soldiers.
And, er, of course,
he once played baseball player
Lou Gehrig in Pride Of The Yankees.
But isn't it true, Chris,
that you and your wife
loved stories about the Wild West?
About gunslingers and outlaws?
Well, Susan was the Gary Cooper fan.
And it was all perfectly harmless.
Members of the jury,
please refer to document EL-96.
This is an invoice from 2009,
for an authenticated
Gary Cooper letter costing £2,700.
You spent £2,700
on a Gary Cooper letter
despite being
on the verge of bankruptcy?
It was a gift for Susan.
And we were not
on the verge of bankruptcy.
Mr Edwards, when you and your wife
were arrested
on your return from France,
you had nothing
but a few coins between you.
The only personal belongings you had
were a few signed photos and books.
You personally have a correspondence
with the actor Gerard Depardieu.
So, it is preposterous to suggest
that you were not a participant
in this world of overblown heroes
and Hollywood stars and guns.
If you wanna get into the detail -
Listen to my question -
Well, now you're
interrupting my answer.
You owned a gun of the same calibre
as the one that shot your in-laws,
didn't you?
At one time I owned a revolver
that was capable of taking
.38-calibre cartridges, yes.
You had .38-calibre cartridges.
Not in May 1998, I didn't.
I had neither cartridges
nor firearms. I had sold them.
Your wife hates guns, doesn't she?
She certainly doesn't like them.
You told the police
she was terrified of them.
That she wouldn't even touch one
at the firing range.
That's correct.
She's generally very fragile.
Another thing we haven't spent -
What about you, Chris?
You like guns, don't you?
I'm interested in guns.
I am interested in military history
and guns are simply a part of that.
Chris, could we just clarify
something for the jury?
You used to fire such weapons,
didn't you? Quite often?
Not often, no, because the er...
the club where I did my shooting
was in Earl's Court.
So, from Dagenham,
I had to change trains twice,
so by the time I got home,
it was very late.
And then after Susan moved in,
it started to feel like I...
Well, it wasn't worth it any more,
so I sold the guns
and surrendered
my firearms certificate
and that was in September 1995.
But before you lived with Susan, you
would've happily made the journey?
Yes.
So, what changed?
Susan didn't like me being away
from home for too long
unless it was for work.
Or she didn't like me being away
from HER, perhaps I should say.
But you enjoyed this hobby,
didn't you?
Yes.
Did you feel like it was your choice
to stop making that journey,
or did Susan make you do it?
Um... It was... It was mutual.
And when you buried the bodies,
was that your choice?
Or did Susan make you do it?
It was erm...
Was it mutual?
Yes.
And when you phoned your step-mother
to tell her
about the bodies in the garden,
that was YOUR choice, wasn't it?
That was a choice you made
independently without Susan.
And that is why
we are all here today, isn't it?
You must have been in a great deal
of pain and discomfort
to choose this over what you
could've had in France, with Susan.
I made a choice to marry Susan
because I loved her...
..and since then I've been living
Susan's life with her.
My life didn't really come into it.
It wasn't important any more.
Chris.
Huh?
'Would you be able to show us,
Chris, how to fire a gun?
A .38, for example?'
Well, there are many styles.
My training was in something called
"precision target shooting".
You begin with a pistol
in front of you, unloaded.
And let's say the target is erm...
well, where My Ladyship is.
And you take your position,
bringing up the hand
to make sure you're pointing
naturally in that direction.
Take out the pistol,
fit it to the hand very precisely
cos you need to get
a consistency of grip.
In the case of a revolver,
you put the cartridges into it
and then close it.
Take a couple of gentle,
deep breaths.
And then raise...the pistol.
Breathe out...
..both eyes open.
And what you're looking for...
is something they call
the "surprise break"...
..which is when the shot goes off
without you even thinking about it.
Here, take this.
What do I do with it?
Aargh!
Move forward!
Just run, Susan! Go!
No!
I'll take care of this. Just go now!
No! Not without you.
Susan, I'm begging you!
Just do it!
No! Not without you!
I'll find you.
Susan, I'm begging you. Just run!
I'll be all right.
How did they know we'd be here?
Chris? How did they know?
Susan...
Susan! What are you doing?
Aargh!
Aargh!
Aargh!
'Would you mind speaking up,
please, Mrs Edwards.
It's quite hard to hear
what you're saying.'
'I can't remember clearly, erm...
She had just killed my father,
and she was saying
those dreadful things to me,
and at some point I just...'
'You pulled the trigger?'
'Yes.'
Louder, please, Mrs Edwards.
Yes, I pulled the trigger.
But as we heard from our expert,
such an action would have required
two separate applications of force,
not hair trigger, but deliberate.
Enough to cock it and fire the gun.
Twice. Bang-bang.
You did that?
I... I don't know
exactly how I did it.
I've spent 16 years
trying to forget what happened.
All I know is I was provoked.
Did you even look to see
if you could help your father
when you saw he'd been shot?
No, I didn't
want to look at my father.
It... It was frightening.
Perhaps you might be able to tell me
a little about the brass casings
that you told the police
you saw on the floor
and that you disposed of
with the gun.
Erm...there were casings.
Erm blastings. I...
I don't know, I saw them.
And what did you do with the gun?
To dispose of it?
I wrapped it up
along with the casings that I...
that were on the floor,
and I put it in a bag, and then
I took it into town and I...
put it in an empty rubbish bin
so that other things
would be put on top.
A rubbish bin?
In the middle of the street?
Yeah, it was the Tuesday
after bank holiday.
Then you went directly
from the rubbish bin to the bank,
which we've already discussed.
Where did you go after the bank?
I returned to the house
after buying some air fresheners.
Oh, you bought air fresheners?
Yes, about 20 of them.
Cos I...I thought the bodies
might start to smell
and...and the house already stank
of smoke and nicotine,
and I hated that smell.
You've never mentioned
the air fresheners to the police
and yet after Dr Dickson's
very vivid description
of how a body decomposes,
suddenly you bought 20 of them.
I did... I forgot.
I didn't think it was important.
Did you know, Mrs Edwards,
that a revolver of this type
does not discharge casings?
Did you know that?
No.
Could you speak up please,
Mrs Edwards, so we can all hear you?
Sorry. No.
You didn't know.
But if you had fired the gun,
you would've seen
it produced no casings,
wouldn't you,
and you wouldn't have made them up.
Isn't it a pity
that you didn't go over that detail
with your husband before the arrest?
No, they... I saw them.
They would not have become
part of your story, would they?
No, they were there.
They were there on the floor.
And can you tell me why you wrapped
your parents' bodies
in duvet covers, Mrs Edwards?
To hide them,
to make it as if it hadn't happened.
Cos I didn't want to see them.
I didn't want to look at them.
Is that also why you destroyed
the photographs, the letters,
the diaries, that you burned
outside your apartment in France,
as we heard from the defence?
The intention there
isn't to preserve
the memory of your parents, is it?
That's you trying to wipe your
parents off the face of the Earth.
It wasn't enough
that they were dead.
You had to burn all trace
that they had ever existed.
And they are not here
to defend themselves, are they?
I don't -
The victims of these shootings,
what would they have told us,
do you think?
What would be their side
- of the story?
- Please.
You have painted them
in the worst possible light.
You were their daughter,
weren't you, their only daughter?
No, they said I was a mistake
and they said they never
wanted to get married,
they wouldn't have,
if Mum hadn't got pregnant.
They hated each other
and they didn't want me.
But they must have loved you on
some level, they were your parents.
No, no, cos I'm...
I'm impossible to love.
Mrs Edwards?
I'm impossible to love.
That's what my mother
would say to me all the time
and it's true...
I... I know now that it's true.
Would you like to take a break,
Mrs Edwards,
if you're having
a bit of a fragile moment?
No.
I'm not fragile.
I'm not fragile.
I'm broken.
So, you can't hurt me.
You can send me to prison
and you can all laugh at me
and you can make me look like
a piece of dirt
in front of all these people
but I'm broken so you can't hurt me.
No-one can hurt me any more.
Chris!
Chris!
Chris!
'(GUNSHOT)'
Do you want to get
an ice cream cone?
Yeah. Yeah.
Oh, I'm gonna get strawberry.
'There's not much we can do
about it now, is there?'
I did have one thought, though...
..that maybe we should've told the
barrister or I should have told you
about Gerard Depardieu.
I've never told anyone this before.
Are you sure you wanna tell me?
So, just after Chris's brother
passed away,
I wrote to Gerard Depardieu,
asking for a signed photo
cos I thought it would
cheer Chris up.
He didn't know anything about films
or France when we got together.
But, er, somehow, he did know
about Gerard Depardieu.
'And then, eventually,
after a few weeks of waiting,
I decided I would write
back to Chris
pretending to be Gerard Depardieu.
I practised his signature
until I got it just right.
And I practised his handwriting.
And I put in spelling mistakes
and things,
you know, so it looked like
it was written by a French person.
Well, it worked. He bought it.'
And it made him so happy...
that I just kept doing it.
I kept writing to him,
pretending I was Gerard Depardieu.
And then Chris would write back,
all excited.
But he never knew
that I was behind it all.
Er, where was he sending
the letters?
Oh, well, I thought of all that too.
So, the first one went
to erm... Apartment 16,
Rue Madam Zephirine, 75014 Paris.
And then there was
an address in Belgium.
And later on,
there was an address in Russia.
But I just made them all up.'
Bye, love!
Have a nice day!
'Cos it didn't matter
where they ended up.
I always read his letters
before he sent them,
so I knew exactly how to reply.
And you might think that Chris
would become suspicious
those letters had London postmarks,
but they didn't.
Because I had a franking machine!
Just had to pick a few well chosen
words in the right language
and hey, presto.'
'Wow...and you did all that
just to make Chris happy.'
'I think, even if I told him,
he wouldn't believe me.'
"Good morning,
I'm Gerard Depardieu."
"No, you're not Gerard Depardieu -
you're a librarian from Harlesden,
for crying out loud!"
Least, I don't think he knew.
Mm.
It wouldn't have helped, would it?
Mm-mm.
I get you, Susan.
I don't know why I get you,
but I get you.
And I find that story really sweet.
That you would do something
like that for him.
But other people...
Yeah.
..might not get it.
I just think it wouldn't
have played, that's all,
because you're on trial.
Anything weird,
anything that isn't just "normal",
will make people assume -
They'll think I'm bad news.
And I hate that, by the way.
Because...
..I like that you're you.
Honestly, I... I honestly think
I will carry this experience with me
for the rest of my life because...
..you know what,
you're right, Susan.
I'm lucky.
It's not the same for me.
And you've helped me
to appreciate that.
Not because you're unlucky.
I don't mean it like that, though.
Or maybe I DO mean it like that.
I... I... I dunno.
I'm not saying
that has to define you
or that it's even the reason why
we're here right now in court but...
..they should have looked after you,
Susan.
They were your parents.
You were seven years old.
Do you know how tall
a seven-year-old is? This tall.
This tall.
So, er... I'm still learning.
Maybe I could have done
a better job for you.
I don't know.
I tried my best, I really did.
But I just wanted to make sure
that you understand
that whatever happens today...
..there's a lot
that has happened in your life
that is not on you.
But given that you left home
in your early twenties...
..15 years before the murders,
I cannot accept that his conduct
explains your decision to kill him.
You thought your parents had
deprived you of an inheritance
that was rightfully yours.
I am sure it was you, Christopher
Edwards, who held the gun.
But I have no doubt
that you were acting together,
and I see no reason to distinguish
between you on sentence.
Can you imagine ever, like,
actually murdering someone?
I can imagine it, yeah.
I don't think I'd ever do it,
though.
Why? Are you thinking of trying it?
Bit of murder?
Just trying to imagine
actually having a gun
and pointing it at your...
Your mum and dad.
Yeah. So fucked up.
It's sad.
Yeah. I guess so.
I threatened me dad once...
..when he'd been at me mum.
I sat on it for a bit.
There was no point me
trying anything when he was pissed
cos he'd just kick the shit
out of me.
But a few days later,
when he was watching telly,
I got an axe from the garage
and I went up to the sofa
and I said...
.."If you touch Mum again...
..I'll chop your fucking head off."
Jesus.
How old were you?
12.
Then what happened?
He left.
Shit, man.
Sorry.
Don't fucking hug me, you twat.
OK.
That's not...
Just offering you a hug. Sorry.
Pervert.
Fuck off. Why would I try it on
after a story like that? That's mad.
When WOULD you do it, then?
I don't know.
I'd just ask you out for a drink,
whenever.
Right.
In what way?
Well, in that way, if you're asking.
Are you asking?
Yeah, all right I'm asking.
No, I don't think so. Sorry.
What?
I would in theory.
But...not in practice.
Maybe in, like, ten years.
Just before my eggs start to dry up.
Shall we go for a drink
just as friends, then?
Or as partners even?
I need a bit more than a drink.
It's been quite an intense few days.
Oh, well, like what?
Like a fuck.
No, not with you.
Don't get any ideas.
You're a sensitive lad, I can tell.
It'll get a bit complicated and then
it'll go a bit... Chris and Susan.
But I'm not gonna offer
to kill your dad for ya.
I'm not asking you to.
We're going to the pub.
You're gonna be my wingman.
Fucking wingman?
Yeah.
Fuck off.
Chop, chop.
'Dear Susan,
thank you for your letters,
which I have been very grateful
to receive.
I'm sorry it's taken me
so long to reply.
The first pen I received
was very scratchy
and I wanted you to be able to read
what I was saying.
So I waited to be furnished
with the brand of implement
I originally asked for, which I'm
happy to say is working much better.
In answer to your question
about Tabitha, the truth is, Susan,
that I don't entirely know
why I did that.
But I do think that,
on some level, you are right.
I felt like I was struggling,
and I needed to ask somebody
for help,
something that,
traditionally speaking,
I have not been very good at.
I think, though, that you're wrong
about how I felt, in other ways.
Because I never felt like
I had to leave the real world behind
to be with you, Susan.
If anything, you are the person
who made the world feel real to me.
It wasn't you who made me
feel trapped, Susan.
It was me.'
'In the movies, there are the good
guys and there are the bad guys.
And I think we will have to accept
that, for most people,
we will always be the bad guys.
But we love each other, Susan.
And nobody can take that
away from us.
Yours forever and always...
..Gerard Depardieu.'
Ah, there you are!
Come with me, please.
Checks, please.
Stand by.
Stand by.
Roll sound.
Sound rolling!
All right, let's do this.
Roll camera!
Rolling!
Ladies and gentlemen,
are you all set?
And...action!