Murder in Mind (2001–2003): Season 2, Episode 3 - Rage - full transcript
Knife salesman Edward Buttimore kills another motorist in an outburst of road rage whilst in a country lane. His dominant mother dissuades him from confessing but, feeling guilty, he attends the man's funeral and befriends Samantha, the widow. They get very close and she confides in him she believes that her husband was leading a double life, but his association with her places him uncomfortably close to being detected.
- You found it, then?
- Yes, it was in the spare room.
Holding it like that,
you could do someone a mischief.
Yes, you're right.
Where are you off to today, then?
Ipswich, Framlingham,
then Woodbridge at midday.
I've done your breakfast.
Put that away before you lose it again.
What do you think, though, Mum?
Beautiful, isn't it? Rosewood handle. Danish.
- What's wrong with English knives?
- No one makes them like this.
Look, it's colour-coded.
It matches the chopping board.
Why? Why does it need to?
To eliminate cross-contamination
during food preparation. Clever, that is.
Have your breakfast.
I've done you a packed lunch.
Two sandwiches, ham and peanut butter...
- Oh, damn! Damn, damn, damn!
- It's all right.
- Has it gone on you?
- No.
Well, not to worry, then.
There's plenty more in the fridge.
Scratch-resistant polyethylene,
stainless-steel exterior, spring-loaded tap.
- You don't have to sell it, I ordered it.
- I know.
Why'd you bring it over?
I could have picked it up.
I like coming down here to the docks.
- You want a drink?
- Oh, I've got the car.
So have a tomato juice.
- How's Rose?
- Thanks for asking. She's, erm...
Same as ever? Honestly, you and your mum.
Don't know how you do it.
- What?
- Live with her all this time.
- She needs me.
- Come on, Eddie, good-looking guy like you.
- When are you gonna get yourself a... y'know?
- How d'you know I haven't?
- Really? What's her name?
- I'm not telling you.
- Why not?
- It's none of your business. Thank you.
Yeah, but how much?
Well, 350, but, I mean,
you don't have to pay it all up front, you...
Sorry, mate,
we bought some for the kitchen last week.
Thank you for your time.
Excuse me,
I'm from Wilton's Kitchen Equipment...
- Not now.
- We've got some interesting special offers...
- Surely he could spare me just five minutes?
- No, I'm sorry. He's in a meeting.
Hello, can I help you?
Would you...
Jesus... Jesus.
Oh, God. Think, think, think...
Eddie?
Eddie?
- Ed, what is it? What's happened?
- Mum...
- There's blood on your shirt.
- I...
- Have you hurt yourself?
- No.
- Ed.
- It's not my blood.
- Then...?
- It's someone else's.
What's happened?
I've killed someone.
I was sure there was no one there.
I looked and there was no one coming.
What the bloody hell do you think you're doing,
you blind bastard? Didn't you see me?
- No...
- Get out of that car!
Get out of the car! I want to talk to you!
You stupid son...
Jesus, this is an intersection! Right?
I've got right of way! Didn't you see me coming?
You just came straight out!
- You didn't look left...
- You were speeding.
- I was doing 50.
- It's a 40mph road!
What's that got to do with anything?
You came out without looking!
- Please leave me alone!
- Please leave me alone
- Get off me!
- All right, you...
- Come out here!
- No!
Get on your feet! Get on your feet!
- Get on your...
- Leave me alone!
I panicked.
All I wanted to do was get home.
I got in the car and I drove off.
- Did anybody see you?
- No. I don't think so.
There was no one there.
- You left him.
- He was dead.
- How do you know?
- I just know.
- I'll call the police now.
- No!
- No. Don't call the police.
- Well, I have to.
Not yet. Not yet.
- Just... let me think.
- What is there to think about?
Wh... You come in here,
you tell me you've killed someone.
There's blood on you. Ed!
No. You're not going to the police.
But I have to tell them. It was self-defence.
- That's what YOU say.
- But I told you, he...
- Did he have a weapon?
- Well... no.
But you did?
- Well...
- Oh, think about it, Ed!
He was unarmed.
- You stabbed him with a kitchen knife.
- A five-inch fillet.
And you ran away. You ran away.
- How d'you think that'll look?
- I can explain.
You've only got your word for it,
it was like you said it was.
- Mum...
- No, no, no!
I'm not going to let this happen.
- It's happened.
- Don't say that!
- Mum...
- No. We're not going to the police.
- What?!
- I've made up my mind.
- Mum, this is...
- We're not going to do it, Ed.
Just sit down. Sit down and listen to me.
- Nobody saw you.
- No.
Fingerprints. You'll have left fingerprints.
No. I was wearing the gloves.
- Where are they?
- I don't know. Erm...
- They're in the car.
- Give them to me.
- And the knife?
- Oh. That's still...
Oh... They can't trace the knife.
- There must be hundreds.
- Wait a minute.
I'll get rid of the gloves and that shirt. This never
happened. That's what we have to think.
- We can't.
- We have to!
Look... I believe you.
Why should they?
They'll arrest you for murder. You know that.
- No.
- Yes! Well, manslaughter, maybe.
They can still put you in prison.
Five years. Ten years.
I'll lose you! They'll lock you away!
Right, we know there were two cars involved,
possibly, er... a near-miss collision.
It's too early to speculate,
but this does bear all the hallmarks
of a road-rage incident.
That's all I can say. Thanks.
Johnstone, an accountant working in Ipswich,
was married with two children...
That's Fenton. I've seen that house.
Gareth was a good husband and
a... wonderful father to Michael and Charlie.
He never hurt anyone,
and I can't believe this has happened.
If anyone saw anything that happened,
please come forward now.
Mrs. Johnstone, if you could speak
to the killer, is there anything you'd say?
I know you didn't mean to do this,
but... you've taken a life.
You have to turn yourself in.
You have to go to the police.
She's right.
No.
Going to the police won't bring him back.
It won't do any good to anyone.
That's not the point.
Listen to me, Ed.
Why should you go to prison
for something that wasn't your fault?
I'm begging you. Please.
What am I going to do on my own without you?
Mum.
I lost your father... and Simon.
You're all I've got.
But you saw her.
She looked so sad.
- What are you reading?
- Road rage.
You got nothing to do?
How about the inventories?
- I can't come in on Wednesday.
- Why?
Wednesday afternoon. There's a funeral.
And so we bid farewell to Gareth Johnstone,
a man taken too suddenly and brutally from us.
Rage ended his life,
but at least we can be sure that now,
where he is, there is only peace.
We have entrusted our brother Gareth
to God's mercy
and now we commit his mortal remains
to the ground.
- Poor sod. Who'd have thought it, eh?
- Only 46.
Hadn't seen him for a while.
Last time was at the club.
- You still play?
- Yeah, when I get a chance.
- Excuse me.
- What?
I'm sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing you,
and I was wondering, er... what club was it?
- What?
- Gareth. You see, I only met him very recently,
and I... I'd like to know a bit more about him.
- Was it tennis?
- No, it's a golf club.
Such a sad business.
It was just so terrible, out of the blue.
...such a shock. I don't know...
- Excuse me?
- Yes?
- You don't have a drink.
- No.
- Well, there's wine or orange juice.
- A white wine. Thank you.
- Here.
- Are you, erm...?
- I'm Jean, Sam's mum.
- Of course.
- Why of course?
- I... I should have known.
- I don't see why. We haven't met, have we?
- No. No, we haven't.
- Who are you?
- I'm just a friend. I'm with them.
- Oh, from the club.
- Mm. That's right.
This is a terrible business. Really terrible.
I think we're all still numb.
- What sort of world are we coming to?
- I agree.
Here's Sam.
- What did he say?
- They've found a witness.
Have they?
A farmer in a tractor in the next field
saw the other car.
- Did he see the driver?
- No, there was a hedge.
- But he saw the car.
- Well, that's something, at least.
- Jean?
- Excuse me.
- It was nice meeting you.
- And you.
- Erm... sorry, I don't think we've, er...
- I'm Ed.
- Edward Buttimore. I was talking to your mum.
- Yeah, I saw.
Are you one of Gareth's friends?
Yes, I met him at the club.
I don't know many of Gareth's golf friends.
Are you an accountant?
Oh, no. I'm a, er... kitchen designer.
You know, very up-market.
Poggenpohl, Bosch, that sort of thing.
I'm a partner in a shop in Ipswich.
I... I want you to know...
I'm terribly sorry.
Yes, erm... it's been a shock for all of us.
But that's why I came,
because I wanted you to know.
That's... that's very kind of you.
If there's anything I can do. Anything at all.
I was very close to Gareth.
- He, er... he told me a lot about you.
- Did he?
- What did he say?
- About you?
- Gareth never talked about his feelings much.
- No, he could be quite, er... quite taciturn.
- He was, er... proud of Michael and, erm...
- Charlie.
Yes.
He always felt guilty when he was at the club.
He felt he should have been at home with you.
That doesn't sound very like Gareth.
Didn't you see me coming?
- Get out of the car!
- No! No!
- They know about the car.
- Get out!
- How do you know?
- I saw the policeman, Pryce.
I have right of way! You just came charging out!
- You didn't look left...
- You were speeding!
- I went to the funeral.
- Why?
- I had to see her.
- What?!
- To tell her I was sorry.
- And did you? Is that what you did?
Leave me alone!
Mrs. Steinberg, if you bring it in, I'll oil it for you.
No, the coffee machine.
Well, that's very nice of you,
but you're too young for me, Mrs. Steinberg...
Hello?
Hello?
- Are you the manager?
- Chris Standring.
Detective Superintendent Pryce.
I'm investigating Gareth Johnstone's murder.
- You might have read about it.
- Oh, yeah. How can I help?
I understand you sell a new type of knife.
Colourmaster.
I wasn't handling that line.
You want to talk to my assistant. Eddie?
- Yes.
- This is a police officer.
- I heard.
- It's about the Colourmaster.
- You are...?
- Er... Edward Buttimore.
This new type of knife is manufactured
in Denmark by Olafsson Peters, is that right?
- Yes, we only had it in a few weeks ago.
- Exactly.
There's only three suppliers.
This is the only one in the area.
- Right.
- As it's new, you can't have sold that many.
Well, it has been quite popular.
OK, well, what I'm going to need from you
is a list of every one of your clients
that's purchased a 5-inch fillet knife.
It may not be that easy.
What? We can pull it off the computer
in a few seconds.
But I was thinking that our records
may not be up to date.
- I'll have a look. I'll do it for you myself.
- Thanks.
So, how's the investigation going?
Er... all right, thanks. You know, early days.
I hear there was a witness,
a farmer or something.
- Where'd you hear that?
- I thought I read it in the paper.
No, we haven't mentioned a witness.
Oh, I thought, erm...
- I'm sure my mum said...
- No.
I'm sorry. Would have made your job easier.
Well, we'll get him. Bit of help from you.
I've never been involved
in a murder investigation before.
It's not as glamorous as people think.
Mostly it's legwork.
I suppose it can take years.
No, most murder cases are solved
in the 48 hours following the event.
Really?
Well, some of the high-profile ones.
The ones on TV might take a few months.
We hope to have this wrapped up a bit sooner.
- Here you go. We've only sold five sets.
- Oh. Not quite as popular as you thought.
So that's it, then.
Find the knife and you've got your man.
If only it was that simple. Still, this will
certainly help, so thank you. Thanks.
Wilton's of Ipswich.
It's for you.
- You didn't mind me calling?
- No, I hope I can help.
How are you coping? How are your boys?
They're OK. They're taking it in their stride,
but they're young.
To tell you the truth, Gareth was away
such a lot working, and at the club...
- That's what I wanted to talk about.
- The club?
Yeah. When was the last time
you saw Gareth there?
Oh, it was quite some time ago.
- But you go there regularly.
- Well...
- And you played with Gareth.
- Now and then.
- So when did you last play with him?
- I... I don't remember.
A couple of months ago.
Why do you want to know?
He was coming back from the club when...
- When it happened?
- Yeah.
Or at least that's what he told me,
that he was going to play golf.
But...?
His clubs are still in the cupboard
under the stairs.
That's not so strange.
He might have had another set.
No. I rang the club.
They said his membership had expired.
So if he wasn't at the club, where was he?
Would you like a drink?
Thanks.
You must have loved him very much.
Did I?
I wonder now.
I think that can happen with people. Marriage.
- Are you...?
- No, no.
You settle down, take every day as it comes.
Suddenly everything stops.
- Would you mind taking me to Sudbourne?
- Why Sudbourne?
- The Sudbourne Club.
- Oh, the club. I see.
I don't want to go alone,
but all this really bothers me.
- I would, but I've really got to get back to...
- I mean when you finish work.
- Well...
- I can wait. The boys are with my mum.
Fine.
- Isn't it that way?
- Hm?
Yeah, I... I've just seen someone I know. Jack!
He's a bit deaf, you know. Shall we go in?
- Yes?
- Oh, hello, Gail.
- Do I know you?
- This is Samantha Johnstone.
- And who are you?
- This isn't about me.
- Mrs. Johnstone's husband is a member here.
- Well, he was. Erm... I called earlier.
Let me have a look.
I'll really have to complain about her.
She never remembers anyone's names.
Ah, here we are.
It's like I told you. He was a member, but
he ended his subscription at the end of last year.
That was three months ago.
He would have had reminders, but after that,
we would have cancelled his membership.
Maybe he played somewhere else.
He just said he was going to the club.
He could have meant another club.
- But why would he lie to me?
- You don't know that he was lying.
Stop! Stop.
This is where it happened.
Oh, God.
They said it was the Orford turn-off.
We should go.
No. Please.
What do you think you're doing?
Didn't you see me coming?
This is an intersection!
I'm meant to have right of way!
- You were speeding!
- I wasn't.
You were doing 50 on a 40mph road.
Now please leave me alone!
I said leave me alone!
- I hope you don't mind it strong.
- No, I like it that way.
There you go.
That's good.
I ought to get home.
Thursdays, my mum likes to go shopping.
- Do you live with her?
- Yeah.
My dad died when I was quite young.
A car accident.
I'm sorry.
He was driving my brother home from school.
Simon. He was only 12.
You poor thing.
They swerved to avoid... someone in the road.
My dad lost control of the car.
They went into a truck.
Simon was killed instantly,
and, erm... Dad died a few days later.
I was nine. My mum was completely devastated.
She worshipped my dad.
I tried to look after her.
I suppose I've been doing that ever since.
- I'm so sorry.
- Well... it was a long time ago.
- She'll be wondering where I am.
- You'd better get back.
- Will you be all right on your own?
- The boys are back tomorrow.
Oh, God.
- What?
- This, erm... Saturday.
Charlie's birthday.
I'd arranged a party, but I've had to cancel it.
- What are you going to do with him instead?
- Take them to the zoo. He loves animals.
Me too. Dad used to take me all the time.
Colchester Zoo. When I was a kid.
- I could come.
- Sorry?
Just thinking about Charlie.
It might help with a man there.
- He doesn't know you.
- But if he misses his dad...
- I'm sorry, that was much too forward of me.
- No, it's all right. It's really kind of you.
- Is that a yes, then?
- Well, I'd have to talk to him first.
- Charlie?
- See what he thinks.
All right, I'll give you a call.
Will you talk to him tonight?
Yeah.
- Where have you been?
- I'm sorry I'm late.
- It was her, wasn't it?
- Mum.
I rang the shop.
Mr. Standring said you left early.
- It was her, wasn't it?
- Samantha. She's got a name.
Samantha. So it was her.
So? I'm just trying to help!
Now, do you want to come shopping or not?
'Cause it's going to be closed.
This is a special announcement...
- What are you doing?
- I don't know, I fancy real coffee for a change.
- You never drink real. You only like instant.
- Well, I just fancied it, all right?
- I don't know what's the matter with you.
- Well, what do you think
I can't stop thinking about it. What I did.
I can't believe I listened to you.
Or that I'm still here.
You're not thinking about that, just her.
- What?
- That woman.
Why are you seeing her?
I don't understand it. It's sheer madness!
- Hey, Eddie!
- Frank!
- Rose, how are you?
- Oh, well...
You look terrific.
Didn't expect to see you two together,
after what he's been saying.
- Frank.
- So? How's it going?
Oh, fine.
If you fancy a romantic dinner, you know
where to come. I could do with the business.
I don't know what he's talking about.
- You'll never guess who I had in today.
- Go on.
A guy called Pryce. Policeman. He was asking
about them knives. The Colourmaster.
- Really?
- Yeah. He wanted to see 'em.
So I showed them him. He'd been round to
Dunwich, Saxmundham... He's getting around.
- Told him about you.
- What did you say?
Just that I'd been buying from you
for ten years, you're a mate of mine.
He didn't want to know.
Only interested in them knives.
- What did Frank mean, a romantic meal?
- You know Frank. He's...
- Have you taken her there?
- Samantha? No.
I haven't!
Well.
- Promise me you won't see her again.
- I can't.
- What?
- I can't, Mum. It's too late.
I'm taking her to the zoo on Saturday.
- You're what?!
- It's Charlie's birthday.
- Who's Charlie?
- Her son. I told you.
- But you're taking me to the garden centre.
- I forgot.
- We always go there on Saturdays.
- I forgot!
- Well, phone her.
- No, I promised.
I don't want you to go.
- It has nothing to do with you.
- It has everything to do with me!
I'm sheltering you.
I'm committing a crime to look after you.
- That's what you wanted.
- You're not thinking this through, Ed.
- What are you going to do when she finds out?
- She won't find out. How will she find out?
Who's that at this hour?
Wait here.
Mrs. Buttimore? I'm Detective Superintendent
Martin Pryce. Is your son at home?
- Yes, of course. Do come in. I'll get him.
- It'll only take a few minutes.
- Ah.
- Mum.
- I know it's late.
- Oh, that's all right.
- Come into the front room. I'll make some tea.
- Thank you.
Cheese and mushroom dip,
Detective Superintendent? I made it myself.
No, thank you.
- Can I get you a sandwich?
- No, I'm all right.
- How can I help you?
- I've been going over what you said.
I can't get it out of my mind.
This business about the witness.
Yes, er... Mother, didn't you hear
that there'd been a witness?
- No, dear.
- I was sure you read it in the paper.
You knew there was a witness, a farmer.
I just wondered where you'd heard that.
- Does it matter?
- Well, yes.
In an investigation like this,
we don't want information leaking out.
So, how did you know?
I didn't. I mean...
Oh! It was me.
I heard it on the radio. Radio Suffolk.
They said a farmer had seen everything
and was helping police with their inquiries.
- We never put that information out.
- Oh.
Well, I... I suppose they must have been
talking about another case.
- I suppose it must have been.
- Yes.
We do have to be careful about the information
we put out. Oh, and don't mention the knives.
- The knives?
- The Colourmasters.
- We wouldn't want our man to know.
- No, no.
- So how are you getting on with that?
- Well, we're getting there.
Well, I wouldn't say anything to anyone.
- Except me.
- Except Mum, yes.
Are you any nearer catching the perpetrator,
Detective Superintendent?
Only... it's a bit of a worry,
knowing there's someone like that out there.
You don't need to worry, Mrs. Buttimore.
In fact, I would guess that whoever did this
wants to get caught.
Do you think so?
This wasn't a premeditated crime.
It was a... a moment of panic. Road rage.
And the perpetrator, as you put it,
didn't hang around.
He fled even though his victim
wasn't actually dead.
- Wasn't he?
- No, no.
Mr. Johnstone was alive for the best part
of an hour. He bled to death very slowly.
That's terrible. I wouldn't want to have
anything like that on my conscience.
That information is also highly confidential.
Well, we won't breathe a word.
Mum, it's wicked! Come and see!
- It's like in "The Jungle Book"!
- Shere Khan!
- That wasn't his name.
- It was!
- It wasn't!
- It's feeding time!
- Get off!
- Hey, you two, stop fighting!
Stop! Stop... Stop it. Come on.
Let's go to the reptile house, eh? Yeah?
- No.
- What?
I, er... I don't like snakes.
Let's go look at the lions, eh?
- Ed?
- Come on.
- Great, aren't they? That's Zimba.
- You mean Simba.
Come on, let's go.
I'll beat you to the water! Come on!
Any news?
- Sorry?
- About Gareth.
The police may have got
part of the number plate.
You said there was a farmer,
but he was in the next field.
Yeah, he said he saw a blue Ford.
Could be a Mondeo, like yours.
There's a camera at the overpass,
so they'll have photos of every car passing
up to an hour after it happened.
They'll have to do something with
the numbers. Computer-enhance them.
Martin's confident they'll have a short list soon.
- Martin?
- DS Pryce.
Oh.
- Thanks for coming out like this.
- Thanks for inviting me.
It's made a big difference for Charlie.
He seems amazingly... resilient.
He cries at night.
I have him in bed with me.
He's coping with it in his own way.
Thanks, Ed.
Charlie, this is for you.
- Oh, you shouldn't have.
- It's only small, and it's his birthday.
- Thanks. Can I open it now?
- Yeah, go on.
I played with them when I was a boy.
You set it off with a battery.
It has a gunpowder motor. It'll go up 300 feet.
It's wicked! Thank you, Ed.
Can we set it off today?
- Well, I...
- Hey, why not? Hm?
There, now that's ready.
Who's going to press the button?
- Me!
- Me! It's my rocket.
Hey, hey. Michael, you can do it next time.
- Right. Now, you ready?
- Yeah.
Five, four, three, two, one, ignition...
Wow, that was brilliant!
The parachute! Go and get it.
Mission accomplished.
Ed, I've been going through Gareth's stuff
and I found that.
Oh, it's a, er...
It's a guarantee for a spin-drier.
We don't have a spin-drier.
I wouldn't have looked, but we've got
a washer-drier. Look at the address.
- 6 King Street.
- Sudbourne.
- Well, it must be a mistake.
- It's in his name.
- So what are you saying?
- Would you come along with me?
I'd feel a lot stronger if you were there.
- You hardly know me.
- Well, I know you're not an axe murderer.
Well, you're not, are you?
Eh?
...even assuming
we do manage to stay in business.
- Detective Superintendent.
- Hello again, Mr. Buttimore.
- Any luck?
- That's why I'm here.
I've been to visit those addresses,
and all the knives are accounted for.
Then maybe it came from
one of the other shops you mentioned.
There's one in Edinburgh and one in Bristol.
It's more likely that the knife originated here.
- But if you've checked them...?
- We've checked the purchases.
But it occurred to me that you yourselves
probably have more of these knives in stock.
Yes.
We have, er... three more sets.
- Can I see them?
- Be my guest.
No, I'm afraid not.
Er... they're in our depot in Manningtree.
- Well, can you get 'em for me?
- It's five o'clock. They'll have gone home.
I would like to see the other sets.
I need to eliminate them from my investigation.
- We can get them by tomorrow.
- I'll come back tomorrow, then.
- You haven't caught him, then?
- Ah, we're closing in.
Well, this is the house. Number six, King Street.
Right.
Come in.
You must hate me.
- You should be ashamed!
- It's OK.
- She was...
- I know.
His mistress. That's the word you're looking for.
I was hoping you'd come... in a way.
I saw you at the funeral. I was going to call you.
- You were there?
- I know I wasn't invited...
...but I had to be there. I hope you understand.
It doesn't make any difference now.
- How did you meet him?
- At a conference. I was working at the hotel.
- It was at Brighton.
- Yes.
Yeah, I remember the trip.
If it's any consolation,
it wasn't meant to be serious.
At least not at the beginning.
He didn't want to leave you.
- So, is it his son?
- Yes.
- How do you know?
- What do you think I am?
- We've got a good idea.
- There's no need for that.
I'm sorry.
- How old is he?
- He's two.
He doesn't look like Gareth.
I need your help.
Gareth always promised
he'd look after me and Joe.
This house is rented.
- And he paid for it all.
- Oh, yes.
He was going to buy somewhere for me.
We went out at weekends looking for places.
- When he should have been at the club.
- Yes.
We'd found somewhere in Orford.
Nice little place. It needs a bit of work.
He gave me a cheque.
It was meant to be the deposit.
That was the day before he died.
I took it to the bank, but they wouldn't cash it.
They said they needed to wait for probate, and...
I know I have no right asking you,
but I don't know what to do.
- I don't want to lose the house.
- Wait. Are you asking...?
You want Sam to give you another cheque?
I can't stay here. I have nowhere to go.
I'm sorry, that's not our problem.
- Ed.
- You can't give her the money. Why should you?
Look, er... just give me my bag, will you?
I don't understand.
I'm sorry, I just don't understand.
It's what Gareth wanted.
I'm beginning to think what Gareth wanted was...
Never mind.
- It was my money.
- What?
It was my money.
The money he paid her.
I inherited it from my father.
Gareth said he was going to invest it for me.
That's what he did with it.
Sam, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.
I should have known.
I didn't love Gareth.
When they told me the news, I, erm...
...I tried to feel something.
He was the father of my children, but...
I was just kidding myself.
There wasn't anything between us.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to involve you.
I was already involved.
- No.
- I was.
I've never met anyone like you.
I, erm...
I need to spend some time on my own.
I thought you said you wouldn't see her again.
- Mum.
- After all I've done, all I've risked for you.
- All you do is what you always do...
- Not now, Mum!
- What's happening to you?
- I don't want to talk.
- Please, leave me alone!
- How dare you speak to me like that?
- For God's sake, I'm not a child!
- Ed!
No! I'm fed up with living here,
the way you treat me...
- Stop it!
- You bully me and belittle me, tie me down!
I don't want any more of your packed lunches
and your hot drink at bedtime!
I can't even choose what I want
in the supermarket
without getting an argument from you!
- This is her, isn't it?
- It's nothing to do with her.
It's me. It's everything!
- It's her.
- No, Mum! It's you.
I'm sorry about Dad and I'm sorry about Simon,
but it was 30 years ago!
And whose fault was it?
- Who set off on his bike to meet them?
- Don't say that.
- Who did they have to swerve to avoid?
- Shut up!
I have paid for what happened.
I'm still stuck here... with you.
You're a destroyer, Ed. That's all you ever do.
- That's not what she says.
- Oh, she doesn't know.
She doesn't know what you are.
She doesn't know what you did.
- And she won't.
- She might.
What?
You'd tell her? Is that what you're saying?
Then to hell with you, Mum! To hell with you!
I'll tell her myself.
- Ed.
- I need to talk.
I have to tell you the truth. What really happened.
It's not going to be easy.
Not for you, I mean. But I have to tell you.
- Do you mind?
- Er... no.
I never played golf with Gareth.
I never even met him.
I came to the house that day,
the funeral, because I...
...I wanted to see you. I felt I had to.
I... Why?
Because, you see...
...I killed Gareth.
- What?
- The car. It was me.
Oh, plea...
I'm so, so sorry.
I want to tell you. I know you'll understand.
I have to tell you.
- Please...
- Just let me finish.
Then you can call the police.
I don't mind. But I have to tell.
I was, er... on my way home
and I had had a horrible day.
Oh, damn! Damn, damn, damn!
Son of a...
- The real beauty is the colour-coding...
- How much?
- Not now.
- We've got some very interesting...
Son of a...
Oh... I don't want to hear this...
It's too late.
I was driving home.
I thought it was just the end of a bad day.
- I'm sorry.
- Didn't you see me coming?
- No.
- You could have killed me.
- Have you been drinking?
- No!
- Would you get out?
- Wait.
- Get out, please, I want to talk to you.
- I haven't been drinking!
- That is MY right of way. You didn't look left...
- You were speeding.
- I was doing 50.
- It's a 40mph road.
This is a freeway.
The limit is 60 and I was well under it.
- I'm going to report you.
- To hell with you! Leave me alone!
- What?
- You heard me.
- You hit me.
- I will again if you don't leave me alone!
- Stop this. Just get off me!
- I've had enough!
- I'm warning you...
- I'm fed up with everything, you bastard!
You blind bastard!
Leave me alone!
I didn't mean to kill him.
I mean... it wasn't something I planned.
But the rage wasn't his, Sam.
That's the truth of it.
It was mine.
You killed him.
Yes.
And ever since then, everything you've done...
meeting me...
I didn't mean it to happen.
- You've been telling me lies.
- No.
Well... yes.
- But not about the things that mattered.
- What?
- What?
- Not about my feelings.
Do you want to call the police?
- I want... I want you to go.
- You've got to think, Sam.
You know where he'd been.
He was coming back from Sudbourne.
I don't want to talk about this now.
Of course. You're shocked.
And I understand that.
But... but listen to me, Sam.
What's happened these last few weeks...
I'm guilty. What I did was wrong.
- Ed...
- But...
...these have been the happiest days of my life.
I love you, Sam. And I think one day...
Just go.
- Go?
- Just go.
I'm sorry.
I'll go.
- Edward Buttimore?
- Yes.
I'm arresting you for the murder
of Gareth Johnstone. I'm now cautioning you.
I didn't call them, Ed!
It wasn't me, I promise! I didn't call 'em!
It's all right, Mum. I did.
I'm ready.
Edward James Buttimore,
the court has decided to accept your version
of the events that took place near Woodbridge
on the evening of the 15th of March.
There was evidence of a struggle,
which would support your assertion
that you were provoked.
You also had a sound reason for carrying
the knife with which you struck Mr. Johnstone,
and it therefore cannot be classed
as an offensive weapon.
Nonetheless, a good and honest man has died,
a husband and a father.
Moreover, road rage is something that no court
in the country is prepared to countenance.
You have, quite rightly, pleaded guilty
to the charge of manslaughter.
Given your cooperation
and your prior good name,
it is the sentence of this court
that you shall be sent to prison for five years.
Take him down.
- Sam.
- How are you, Ed?
- I'm OK.
- Are you surprised to see me?
- I got your letters, but I never thought...
- I told you. I've forgiven you.
- I said I'd be waiting. Here I am.
- Yeah.
- Sorry to hear about your mother.
- Well...
- Was it very sudden?
- A massive heart attack.
Doctor said she'd never have known what hit her.
In a few more days, I'd have been home.
- You are home.
- Yeah?
You're with me.
Ed.
- Hello, Mum.
- You all right, then?
Yeah.
- You have put on weight.
- Have I?
A bit.
- Good to see you.
- I've missed you.
Me too.
Come on, then.
I thought we could go to the garden centre
this weekend.
Your first taste of freedom.
Unless you've got other plans.
No. No, it's fine.
- Yes, it was in the spare room.
Holding it like that,
you could do someone a mischief.
Yes, you're right.
Where are you off to today, then?
Ipswich, Framlingham,
then Woodbridge at midday.
I've done your breakfast.
Put that away before you lose it again.
What do you think, though, Mum?
Beautiful, isn't it? Rosewood handle. Danish.
- What's wrong with English knives?
- No one makes them like this.
Look, it's colour-coded.
It matches the chopping board.
Why? Why does it need to?
To eliminate cross-contamination
during food preparation. Clever, that is.
Have your breakfast.
I've done you a packed lunch.
Two sandwiches, ham and peanut butter...
- Oh, damn! Damn, damn, damn!
- It's all right.
- Has it gone on you?
- No.
Well, not to worry, then.
There's plenty more in the fridge.
Scratch-resistant polyethylene,
stainless-steel exterior, spring-loaded tap.
- You don't have to sell it, I ordered it.
- I know.
Why'd you bring it over?
I could have picked it up.
I like coming down here to the docks.
- You want a drink?
- Oh, I've got the car.
So have a tomato juice.
- How's Rose?
- Thanks for asking. She's, erm...
Same as ever? Honestly, you and your mum.
Don't know how you do it.
- What?
- Live with her all this time.
- She needs me.
- Come on, Eddie, good-looking guy like you.
- When are you gonna get yourself a... y'know?
- How d'you know I haven't?
- Really? What's her name?
- I'm not telling you.
- Why not?
- It's none of your business. Thank you.
Yeah, but how much?
Well, 350, but, I mean,
you don't have to pay it all up front, you...
Sorry, mate,
we bought some for the kitchen last week.
Thank you for your time.
Excuse me,
I'm from Wilton's Kitchen Equipment...
- Not now.
- We've got some interesting special offers...
- Surely he could spare me just five minutes?
- No, I'm sorry. He's in a meeting.
Hello, can I help you?
Would you...
Jesus... Jesus.
Oh, God. Think, think, think...
Eddie?
Eddie?
- Ed, what is it? What's happened?
- Mum...
- There's blood on your shirt.
- I...
- Have you hurt yourself?
- No.
- Ed.
- It's not my blood.
- Then...?
- It's someone else's.
What's happened?
I've killed someone.
I was sure there was no one there.
I looked and there was no one coming.
What the bloody hell do you think you're doing,
you blind bastard? Didn't you see me?
- No...
- Get out of that car!
Get out of the car! I want to talk to you!
You stupid son...
Jesus, this is an intersection! Right?
I've got right of way! Didn't you see me coming?
You just came straight out!
- You didn't look left...
- You were speeding.
- I was doing 50.
- It's a 40mph road!
What's that got to do with anything?
You came out without looking!
- Please leave me alone!
- Please leave me alone
- Get off me!
- All right, you...
- Come out here!
- No!
Get on your feet! Get on your feet!
- Get on your...
- Leave me alone!
I panicked.
All I wanted to do was get home.
I got in the car and I drove off.
- Did anybody see you?
- No. I don't think so.
There was no one there.
- You left him.
- He was dead.
- How do you know?
- I just know.
- I'll call the police now.
- No!
- No. Don't call the police.
- Well, I have to.
Not yet. Not yet.
- Just... let me think.
- What is there to think about?
Wh... You come in here,
you tell me you've killed someone.
There's blood on you. Ed!
No. You're not going to the police.
But I have to tell them. It was self-defence.
- That's what YOU say.
- But I told you, he...
- Did he have a weapon?
- Well... no.
But you did?
- Well...
- Oh, think about it, Ed!
He was unarmed.
- You stabbed him with a kitchen knife.
- A five-inch fillet.
And you ran away. You ran away.
- How d'you think that'll look?
- I can explain.
You've only got your word for it,
it was like you said it was.
- Mum...
- No, no, no!
I'm not going to let this happen.
- It's happened.
- Don't say that!
- Mum...
- No. We're not going to the police.
- What?!
- I've made up my mind.
- Mum, this is...
- We're not going to do it, Ed.
Just sit down. Sit down and listen to me.
- Nobody saw you.
- No.
Fingerprints. You'll have left fingerprints.
No. I was wearing the gloves.
- Where are they?
- I don't know. Erm...
- They're in the car.
- Give them to me.
- And the knife?
- Oh. That's still...
Oh... They can't trace the knife.
- There must be hundreds.
- Wait a minute.
I'll get rid of the gloves and that shirt. This never
happened. That's what we have to think.
- We can't.
- We have to!
Look... I believe you.
Why should they?
They'll arrest you for murder. You know that.
- No.
- Yes! Well, manslaughter, maybe.
They can still put you in prison.
Five years. Ten years.
I'll lose you! They'll lock you away!
Right, we know there were two cars involved,
possibly, er... a near-miss collision.
It's too early to speculate,
but this does bear all the hallmarks
of a road-rage incident.
That's all I can say. Thanks.
Johnstone, an accountant working in Ipswich,
was married with two children...
That's Fenton. I've seen that house.
Gareth was a good husband and
a... wonderful father to Michael and Charlie.
He never hurt anyone,
and I can't believe this has happened.
If anyone saw anything that happened,
please come forward now.
Mrs. Johnstone, if you could speak
to the killer, is there anything you'd say?
I know you didn't mean to do this,
but... you've taken a life.
You have to turn yourself in.
You have to go to the police.
She's right.
No.
Going to the police won't bring him back.
It won't do any good to anyone.
That's not the point.
Listen to me, Ed.
Why should you go to prison
for something that wasn't your fault?
I'm begging you. Please.
What am I going to do on my own without you?
Mum.
I lost your father... and Simon.
You're all I've got.
But you saw her.
She looked so sad.
- What are you reading?
- Road rage.
You got nothing to do?
How about the inventories?
- I can't come in on Wednesday.
- Why?
Wednesday afternoon. There's a funeral.
And so we bid farewell to Gareth Johnstone,
a man taken too suddenly and brutally from us.
Rage ended his life,
but at least we can be sure that now,
where he is, there is only peace.
We have entrusted our brother Gareth
to God's mercy
and now we commit his mortal remains
to the ground.
- Poor sod. Who'd have thought it, eh?
- Only 46.
Hadn't seen him for a while.
Last time was at the club.
- You still play?
- Yeah, when I get a chance.
- Excuse me.
- What?
I'm sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing you,
and I was wondering, er... what club was it?
- What?
- Gareth. You see, I only met him very recently,
and I... I'd like to know a bit more about him.
- Was it tennis?
- No, it's a golf club.
Such a sad business.
It was just so terrible, out of the blue.
...such a shock. I don't know...
- Excuse me?
- Yes?
- You don't have a drink.
- No.
- Well, there's wine or orange juice.
- A white wine. Thank you.
- Here.
- Are you, erm...?
- I'm Jean, Sam's mum.
- Of course.
- Why of course?
- I... I should have known.
- I don't see why. We haven't met, have we?
- No. No, we haven't.
- Who are you?
- I'm just a friend. I'm with them.
- Oh, from the club.
- Mm. That's right.
This is a terrible business. Really terrible.
I think we're all still numb.
- What sort of world are we coming to?
- I agree.
Here's Sam.
- What did he say?
- They've found a witness.
Have they?
A farmer in a tractor in the next field
saw the other car.
- Did he see the driver?
- No, there was a hedge.
- But he saw the car.
- Well, that's something, at least.
- Jean?
- Excuse me.
- It was nice meeting you.
- And you.
- Erm... sorry, I don't think we've, er...
- I'm Ed.
- Edward Buttimore. I was talking to your mum.
- Yeah, I saw.
Are you one of Gareth's friends?
Yes, I met him at the club.
I don't know many of Gareth's golf friends.
Are you an accountant?
Oh, no. I'm a, er... kitchen designer.
You know, very up-market.
Poggenpohl, Bosch, that sort of thing.
I'm a partner in a shop in Ipswich.
I... I want you to know...
I'm terribly sorry.
Yes, erm... it's been a shock for all of us.
But that's why I came,
because I wanted you to know.
That's... that's very kind of you.
If there's anything I can do. Anything at all.
I was very close to Gareth.
- He, er... he told me a lot about you.
- Did he?
- What did he say?
- About you?
- Gareth never talked about his feelings much.
- No, he could be quite, er... quite taciturn.
- He was, er... proud of Michael and, erm...
- Charlie.
Yes.
He always felt guilty when he was at the club.
He felt he should have been at home with you.
That doesn't sound very like Gareth.
Didn't you see me coming?
- Get out of the car!
- No! No!
- They know about the car.
- Get out!
- How do you know?
- I saw the policeman, Pryce.
I have right of way! You just came charging out!
- You didn't look left...
- You were speeding!
- I went to the funeral.
- Why?
- I had to see her.
- What?!
- To tell her I was sorry.
- And did you? Is that what you did?
Leave me alone!
Mrs. Steinberg, if you bring it in, I'll oil it for you.
No, the coffee machine.
Well, that's very nice of you,
but you're too young for me, Mrs. Steinberg...
Hello?
Hello?
- Are you the manager?
- Chris Standring.
Detective Superintendent Pryce.
I'm investigating Gareth Johnstone's murder.
- You might have read about it.
- Oh, yeah. How can I help?
I understand you sell a new type of knife.
Colourmaster.
I wasn't handling that line.
You want to talk to my assistant. Eddie?
- Yes.
- This is a police officer.
- I heard.
- It's about the Colourmaster.
- You are...?
- Er... Edward Buttimore.
This new type of knife is manufactured
in Denmark by Olafsson Peters, is that right?
- Yes, we only had it in a few weeks ago.
- Exactly.
There's only three suppliers.
This is the only one in the area.
- Right.
- As it's new, you can't have sold that many.
Well, it has been quite popular.
OK, well, what I'm going to need from you
is a list of every one of your clients
that's purchased a 5-inch fillet knife.
It may not be that easy.
What? We can pull it off the computer
in a few seconds.
But I was thinking that our records
may not be up to date.
- I'll have a look. I'll do it for you myself.
- Thanks.
So, how's the investigation going?
Er... all right, thanks. You know, early days.
I hear there was a witness,
a farmer or something.
- Where'd you hear that?
- I thought I read it in the paper.
No, we haven't mentioned a witness.
Oh, I thought, erm...
- I'm sure my mum said...
- No.
I'm sorry. Would have made your job easier.
Well, we'll get him. Bit of help from you.
I've never been involved
in a murder investigation before.
It's not as glamorous as people think.
Mostly it's legwork.
I suppose it can take years.
No, most murder cases are solved
in the 48 hours following the event.
Really?
Well, some of the high-profile ones.
The ones on TV might take a few months.
We hope to have this wrapped up a bit sooner.
- Here you go. We've only sold five sets.
- Oh. Not quite as popular as you thought.
So that's it, then.
Find the knife and you've got your man.
If only it was that simple. Still, this will
certainly help, so thank you. Thanks.
Wilton's of Ipswich.
It's for you.
- You didn't mind me calling?
- No, I hope I can help.
How are you coping? How are your boys?
They're OK. They're taking it in their stride,
but they're young.
To tell you the truth, Gareth was away
such a lot working, and at the club...
- That's what I wanted to talk about.
- The club?
Yeah. When was the last time
you saw Gareth there?
Oh, it was quite some time ago.
- But you go there regularly.
- Well...
- And you played with Gareth.
- Now and then.
- So when did you last play with him?
- I... I don't remember.
A couple of months ago.
Why do you want to know?
He was coming back from the club when...
- When it happened?
- Yeah.
Or at least that's what he told me,
that he was going to play golf.
But...?
His clubs are still in the cupboard
under the stairs.
That's not so strange.
He might have had another set.
No. I rang the club.
They said his membership had expired.
So if he wasn't at the club, where was he?
Would you like a drink?
Thanks.
You must have loved him very much.
Did I?
I wonder now.
I think that can happen with people. Marriage.
- Are you...?
- No, no.
You settle down, take every day as it comes.
Suddenly everything stops.
- Would you mind taking me to Sudbourne?
- Why Sudbourne?
- The Sudbourne Club.
- Oh, the club. I see.
I don't want to go alone,
but all this really bothers me.
- I would, but I've really got to get back to...
- I mean when you finish work.
- Well...
- I can wait. The boys are with my mum.
Fine.
- Isn't it that way?
- Hm?
Yeah, I... I've just seen someone I know. Jack!
He's a bit deaf, you know. Shall we go in?
- Yes?
- Oh, hello, Gail.
- Do I know you?
- This is Samantha Johnstone.
- And who are you?
- This isn't about me.
- Mrs. Johnstone's husband is a member here.
- Well, he was. Erm... I called earlier.
Let me have a look.
I'll really have to complain about her.
She never remembers anyone's names.
Ah, here we are.
It's like I told you. He was a member, but
he ended his subscription at the end of last year.
That was three months ago.
He would have had reminders, but after that,
we would have cancelled his membership.
Maybe he played somewhere else.
He just said he was going to the club.
He could have meant another club.
- But why would he lie to me?
- You don't know that he was lying.
Stop! Stop.
This is where it happened.
Oh, God.
They said it was the Orford turn-off.
We should go.
No. Please.
What do you think you're doing?
Didn't you see me coming?
This is an intersection!
I'm meant to have right of way!
- You were speeding!
- I wasn't.
You were doing 50 on a 40mph road.
Now please leave me alone!
I said leave me alone!
- I hope you don't mind it strong.
- No, I like it that way.
There you go.
That's good.
I ought to get home.
Thursdays, my mum likes to go shopping.
- Do you live with her?
- Yeah.
My dad died when I was quite young.
A car accident.
I'm sorry.
He was driving my brother home from school.
Simon. He was only 12.
You poor thing.
They swerved to avoid... someone in the road.
My dad lost control of the car.
They went into a truck.
Simon was killed instantly,
and, erm... Dad died a few days later.
I was nine. My mum was completely devastated.
She worshipped my dad.
I tried to look after her.
I suppose I've been doing that ever since.
- I'm so sorry.
- Well... it was a long time ago.
- She'll be wondering where I am.
- You'd better get back.
- Will you be all right on your own?
- The boys are back tomorrow.
Oh, God.
- What?
- This, erm... Saturday.
Charlie's birthday.
I'd arranged a party, but I've had to cancel it.
- What are you going to do with him instead?
- Take them to the zoo. He loves animals.
Me too. Dad used to take me all the time.
Colchester Zoo. When I was a kid.
- I could come.
- Sorry?
Just thinking about Charlie.
It might help with a man there.
- He doesn't know you.
- But if he misses his dad...
- I'm sorry, that was much too forward of me.
- No, it's all right. It's really kind of you.
- Is that a yes, then?
- Well, I'd have to talk to him first.
- Charlie?
- See what he thinks.
All right, I'll give you a call.
Will you talk to him tonight?
Yeah.
- Where have you been?
- I'm sorry I'm late.
- It was her, wasn't it?
- Mum.
I rang the shop.
Mr. Standring said you left early.
- It was her, wasn't it?
- Samantha. She's got a name.
Samantha. So it was her.
So? I'm just trying to help!
Now, do you want to come shopping or not?
'Cause it's going to be closed.
This is a special announcement...
- What are you doing?
- I don't know, I fancy real coffee for a change.
- You never drink real. You only like instant.
- Well, I just fancied it, all right?
- I don't know what's the matter with you.
- Well, what do you think
I can't stop thinking about it. What I did.
I can't believe I listened to you.
Or that I'm still here.
You're not thinking about that, just her.
- What?
- That woman.
Why are you seeing her?
I don't understand it. It's sheer madness!
- Hey, Eddie!
- Frank!
- Rose, how are you?
- Oh, well...
You look terrific.
Didn't expect to see you two together,
after what he's been saying.
- Frank.
- So? How's it going?
Oh, fine.
If you fancy a romantic dinner, you know
where to come. I could do with the business.
I don't know what he's talking about.
- You'll never guess who I had in today.
- Go on.
A guy called Pryce. Policeman. He was asking
about them knives. The Colourmaster.
- Really?
- Yeah. He wanted to see 'em.
So I showed them him. He'd been round to
Dunwich, Saxmundham... He's getting around.
- Told him about you.
- What did you say?
Just that I'd been buying from you
for ten years, you're a mate of mine.
He didn't want to know.
Only interested in them knives.
- What did Frank mean, a romantic meal?
- You know Frank. He's...
- Have you taken her there?
- Samantha? No.
I haven't!
Well.
- Promise me you won't see her again.
- I can't.
- What?
- I can't, Mum. It's too late.
I'm taking her to the zoo on Saturday.
- You're what?!
- It's Charlie's birthday.
- Who's Charlie?
- Her son. I told you.
- But you're taking me to the garden centre.
- I forgot.
- We always go there on Saturdays.
- I forgot!
- Well, phone her.
- No, I promised.
I don't want you to go.
- It has nothing to do with you.
- It has everything to do with me!
I'm sheltering you.
I'm committing a crime to look after you.
- That's what you wanted.
- You're not thinking this through, Ed.
- What are you going to do when she finds out?
- She won't find out. How will she find out?
Who's that at this hour?
Wait here.
Mrs. Buttimore? I'm Detective Superintendent
Martin Pryce. Is your son at home?
- Yes, of course. Do come in. I'll get him.
- It'll only take a few minutes.
- Ah.
- Mum.
- I know it's late.
- Oh, that's all right.
- Come into the front room. I'll make some tea.
- Thank you.
Cheese and mushroom dip,
Detective Superintendent? I made it myself.
No, thank you.
- Can I get you a sandwich?
- No, I'm all right.
- How can I help you?
- I've been going over what you said.
I can't get it out of my mind.
This business about the witness.
Yes, er... Mother, didn't you hear
that there'd been a witness?
- No, dear.
- I was sure you read it in the paper.
You knew there was a witness, a farmer.
I just wondered where you'd heard that.
- Does it matter?
- Well, yes.
In an investigation like this,
we don't want information leaking out.
So, how did you know?
I didn't. I mean...
Oh! It was me.
I heard it on the radio. Radio Suffolk.
They said a farmer had seen everything
and was helping police with their inquiries.
- We never put that information out.
- Oh.
Well, I... I suppose they must have been
talking about another case.
- I suppose it must have been.
- Yes.
We do have to be careful about the information
we put out. Oh, and don't mention the knives.
- The knives?
- The Colourmasters.
- We wouldn't want our man to know.
- No, no.
- So how are you getting on with that?
- Well, we're getting there.
Well, I wouldn't say anything to anyone.
- Except me.
- Except Mum, yes.
Are you any nearer catching the perpetrator,
Detective Superintendent?
Only... it's a bit of a worry,
knowing there's someone like that out there.
You don't need to worry, Mrs. Buttimore.
In fact, I would guess that whoever did this
wants to get caught.
Do you think so?
This wasn't a premeditated crime.
It was a... a moment of panic. Road rage.
And the perpetrator, as you put it,
didn't hang around.
He fled even though his victim
wasn't actually dead.
- Wasn't he?
- No, no.
Mr. Johnstone was alive for the best part
of an hour. He bled to death very slowly.
That's terrible. I wouldn't want to have
anything like that on my conscience.
That information is also highly confidential.
Well, we won't breathe a word.
Mum, it's wicked! Come and see!
- It's like in "The Jungle Book"!
- Shere Khan!
- That wasn't his name.
- It was!
- It wasn't!
- It's feeding time!
- Get off!
- Hey, you two, stop fighting!
Stop! Stop... Stop it. Come on.
Let's go to the reptile house, eh? Yeah?
- No.
- What?
I, er... I don't like snakes.
Let's go look at the lions, eh?
- Ed?
- Come on.
- Great, aren't they? That's Zimba.
- You mean Simba.
Come on, let's go.
I'll beat you to the water! Come on!
Any news?
- Sorry?
- About Gareth.
The police may have got
part of the number plate.
You said there was a farmer,
but he was in the next field.
Yeah, he said he saw a blue Ford.
Could be a Mondeo, like yours.
There's a camera at the overpass,
so they'll have photos of every car passing
up to an hour after it happened.
They'll have to do something with
the numbers. Computer-enhance them.
Martin's confident they'll have a short list soon.
- Martin?
- DS Pryce.
Oh.
- Thanks for coming out like this.
- Thanks for inviting me.
It's made a big difference for Charlie.
He seems amazingly... resilient.
He cries at night.
I have him in bed with me.
He's coping with it in his own way.
Thanks, Ed.
Charlie, this is for you.
- Oh, you shouldn't have.
- It's only small, and it's his birthday.
- Thanks. Can I open it now?
- Yeah, go on.
I played with them when I was a boy.
You set it off with a battery.
It has a gunpowder motor. It'll go up 300 feet.
It's wicked! Thank you, Ed.
Can we set it off today?
- Well, I...
- Hey, why not? Hm?
There, now that's ready.
Who's going to press the button?
- Me!
- Me! It's my rocket.
Hey, hey. Michael, you can do it next time.
- Right. Now, you ready?
- Yeah.
Five, four, three, two, one, ignition...
Wow, that was brilliant!
The parachute! Go and get it.
Mission accomplished.
Ed, I've been going through Gareth's stuff
and I found that.
Oh, it's a, er...
It's a guarantee for a spin-drier.
We don't have a spin-drier.
I wouldn't have looked, but we've got
a washer-drier. Look at the address.
- 6 King Street.
- Sudbourne.
- Well, it must be a mistake.
- It's in his name.
- So what are you saying?
- Would you come along with me?
I'd feel a lot stronger if you were there.
- You hardly know me.
- Well, I know you're not an axe murderer.
Well, you're not, are you?
Eh?
...even assuming
we do manage to stay in business.
- Detective Superintendent.
- Hello again, Mr. Buttimore.
- Any luck?
- That's why I'm here.
I've been to visit those addresses,
and all the knives are accounted for.
Then maybe it came from
one of the other shops you mentioned.
There's one in Edinburgh and one in Bristol.
It's more likely that the knife originated here.
- But if you've checked them...?
- We've checked the purchases.
But it occurred to me that you yourselves
probably have more of these knives in stock.
Yes.
We have, er... three more sets.
- Can I see them?
- Be my guest.
No, I'm afraid not.
Er... they're in our depot in Manningtree.
- Well, can you get 'em for me?
- It's five o'clock. They'll have gone home.
I would like to see the other sets.
I need to eliminate them from my investigation.
- We can get them by tomorrow.
- I'll come back tomorrow, then.
- You haven't caught him, then?
- Ah, we're closing in.
Well, this is the house. Number six, King Street.
Right.
Come in.
You must hate me.
- You should be ashamed!
- It's OK.
- She was...
- I know.
His mistress. That's the word you're looking for.
I was hoping you'd come... in a way.
I saw you at the funeral. I was going to call you.
- You were there?
- I know I wasn't invited...
...but I had to be there. I hope you understand.
It doesn't make any difference now.
- How did you meet him?
- At a conference. I was working at the hotel.
- It was at Brighton.
- Yes.
Yeah, I remember the trip.
If it's any consolation,
it wasn't meant to be serious.
At least not at the beginning.
He didn't want to leave you.
- So, is it his son?
- Yes.
- How do you know?
- What do you think I am?
- We've got a good idea.
- There's no need for that.
I'm sorry.
- How old is he?
- He's two.
He doesn't look like Gareth.
I need your help.
Gareth always promised
he'd look after me and Joe.
This house is rented.
- And he paid for it all.
- Oh, yes.
He was going to buy somewhere for me.
We went out at weekends looking for places.
- When he should have been at the club.
- Yes.
We'd found somewhere in Orford.
Nice little place. It needs a bit of work.
He gave me a cheque.
It was meant to be the deposit.
That was the day before he died.
I took it to the bank, but they wouldn't cash it.
They said they needed to wait for probate, and...
I know I have no right asking you,
but I don't know what to do.
- I don't want to lose the house.
- Wait. Are you asking...?
You want Sam to give you another cheque?
I can't stay here. I have nowhere to go.
I'm sorry, that's not our problem.
- Ed.
- You can't give her the money. Why should you?
Look, er... just give me my bag, will you?
I don't understand.
I'm sorry, I just don't understand.
It's what Gareth wanted.
I'm beginning to think what Gareth wanted was...
Never mind.
- It was my money.
- What?
It was my money.
The money he paid her.
I inherited it from my father.
Gareth said he was going to invest it for me.
That's what he did with it.
Sam, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.
I should have known.
I didn't love Gareth.
When they told me the news, I, erm...
...I tried to feel something.
He was the father of my children, but...
I was just kidding myself.
There wasn't anything between us.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to involve you.
I was already involved.
- No.
- I was.
I've never met anyone like you.
I, erm...
I need to spend some time on my own.
I thought you said you wouldn't see her again.
- Mum.
- After all I've done, all I've risked for you.
- All you do is what you always do...
- Not now, Mum!
- What's happening to you?
- I don't want to talk.
- Please, leave me alone!
- How dare you speak to me like that?
- For God's sake, I'm not a child!
- Ed!
No! I'm fed up with living here,
the way you treat me...
- Stop it!
- You bully me and belittle me, tie me down!
I don't want any more of your packed lunches
and your hot drink at bedtime!
I can't even choose what I want
in the supermarket
without getting an argument from you!
- This is her, isn't it?
- It's nothing to do with her.
It's me. It's everything!
- It's her.
- No, Mum! It's you.
I'm sorry about Dad and I'm sorry about Simon,
but it was 30 years ago!
And whose fault was it?
- Who set off on his bike to meet them?
- Don't say that.
- Who did they have to swerve to avoid?
- Shut up!
I have paid for what happened.
I'm still stuck here... with you.
You're a destroyer, Ed. That's all you ever do.
- That's not what she says.
- Oh, she doesn't know.
She doesn't know what you are.
She doesn't know what you did.
- And she won't.
- She might.
What?
You'd tell her? Is that what you're saying?
Then to hell with you, Mum! To hell with you!
I'll tell her myself.
- Ed.
- I need to talk.
I have to tell you the truth. What really happened.
It's not going to be easy.
Not for you, I mean. But I have to tell you.
- Do you mind?
- Er... no.
I never played golf with Gareth.
I never even met him.
I came to the house that day,
the funeral, because I...
...I wanted to see you. I felt I had to.
I... Why?
Because, you see...
...I killed Gareth.
- What?
- The car. It was me.
Oh, plea...
I'm so, so sorry.
I want to tell you. I know you'll understand.
I have to tell you.
- Please...
- Just let me finish.
Then you can call the police.
I don't mind. But I have to tell.
I was, er... on my way home
and I had had a horrible day.
Oh, damn! Damn, damn, damn!
Son of a...
- The real beauty is the colour-coding...
- How much?
- Not now.
- We've got some very interesting...
Son of a...
Oh... I don't want to hear this...
It's too late.
I was driving home.
I thought it was just the end of a bad day.
- I'm sorry.
- Didn't you see me coming?
- No.
- You could have killed me.
- Have you been drinking?
- No!
- Would you get out?
- Wait.
- Get out, please, I want to talk to you.
- I haven't been drinking!
- That is MY right of way. You didn't look left...
- You were speeding.
- I was doing 50.
- It's a 40mph road.
This is a freeway.
The limit is 60 and I was well under it.
- I'm going to report you.
- To hell with you! Leave me alone!
- What?
- You heard me.
- You hit me.
- I will again if you don't leave me alone!
- Stop this. Just get off me!
- I've had enough!
- I'm warning you...
- I'm fed up with everything, you bastard!
You blind bastard!
Leave me alone!
I didn't mean to kill him.
I mean... it wasn't something I planned.
But the rage wasn't his, Sam.
That's the truth of it.
It was mine.
You killed him.
Yes.
And ever since then, everything you've done...
meeting me...
I didn't mean it to happen.
- You've been telling me lies.
- No.
Well... yes.
- But not about the things that mattered.
- What?
- What?
- Not about my feelings.
Do you want to call the police?
- I want... I want you to go.
- You've got to think, Sam.
You know where he'd been.
He was coming back from Sudbourne.
I don't want to talk about this now.
Of course. You're shocked.
And I understand that.
But... but listen to me, Sam.
What's happened these last few weeks...
I'm guilty. What I did was wrong.
- Ed...
- But...
...these have been the happiest days of my life.
I love you, Sam. And I think one day...
Just go.
- Go?
- Just go.
I'm sorry.
I'll go.
- Edward Buttimore?
- Yes.
I'm arresting you for the murder
of Gareth Johnstone. I'm now cautioning you.
I didn't call them, Ed!
It wasn't me, I promise! I didn't call 'em!
It's all right, Mum. I did.
I'm ready.
Edward James Buttimore,
the court has decided to accept your version
of the events that took place near Woodbridge
on the evening of the 15th of March.
There was evidence of a struggle,
which would support your assertion
that you were provoked.
You also had a sound reason for carrying
the knife with which you struck Mr. Johnstone,
and it therefore cannot be classed
as an offensive weapon.
Nonetheless, a good and honest man has died,
a husband and a father.
Moreover, road rage is something that no court
in the country is prepared to countenance.
You have, quite rightly, pleaded guilty
to the charge of manslaughter.
Given your cooperation
and your prior good name,
it is the sentence of this court
that you shall be sent to prison for five years.
Take him down.
- Sam.
- How are you, Ed?
- I'm OK.
- Are you surprised to see me?
- I got your letters, but I never thought...
- I told you. I've forgiven you.
- I said I'd be waiting. Here I am.
- Yeah.
- Sorry to hear about your mother.
- Well...
- Was it very sudden?
- A massive heart attack.
Doctor said she'd never have known what hit her.
In a few more days, I'd have been home.
- You are home.
- Yeah?
You're with me.
Ed.
- Hello, Mum.
- You all right, then?
Yeah.
- You have put on weight.
- Have I?
A bit.
- Good to see you.
- I've missed you.
Me too.
Come on, then.
I thought we could go to the garden centre
this weekend.
Your first taste of freedom.
Unless you've got other plans.
No. No, it's fine.