Scott & Bailey (2011–2016): Season 4, Episode 7 - Episode #4.7 - full transcript

A dead man is found on the moors with no clues to his identity until a woman called Maeve comes forward to name him as former lover Michael Greenholme, whom she last saw fifteen years ago. Janet and her colleagues interview farmer Callum Pritchard, who recently employed Michael, but he bolts and dies when his car overturns. A search of Pritchard's farm reveals three men imprisoned as slaves, opening a new line of enquiry when a simple employee of Pritchard is brought in. At the same time Janet informs Gill's friend DSI Julie Dobson that she is concerned about her boss drinking at work whilst Rachel learns from her sister that their mother has just died.

That's my last body. Handed in my 30
days.

~ You gave me the nudge I needed.
~ I didn't.

No, it's good. Right. Immediate
questions. Off you go.

Is this where he died? How did he
get here?

Routes in, routes out. Which did
victim and offender use?

Which should we use
to avoid contaminating the scene?

~ How long's he been here? ~ Long enough
for rigor mortis to set in.

How do you suggest they get him out?
He's wedged in tight.

Stick a tarpaulin over the lot and
wait till he goes floppy.

~ Why not use a tent? ~ Cos it's too
windy.

~ Julie Dodson.
~ Oh, hello, Ma'am.



It's Detective Constable Janet Scott
from Syndicate 9.

Hiya, Janet. What can I do for you?

Erm... I wondered if it might be
possible for us to meet up

and have a quick chat about
something.

~ Phone's better for me. Can we do it
now? ~ We could.

~ It's just that it might be better
to - ~ What's it about?

~ Gill. ~ What about her?

It's a bit sensitive. Might you have
10 minutes for us to meet up?

~ What's up with Gill? ~ We think she's
not coping as well

~ as she usually does and
we're concerned... ~ Who's 'we'?

~ You and Rachel? ~ Yes. ~ Right.

~ And your concern is? ~ She's possibly
drinking too much.

~ Everyone drinks too much. ~ She's
drinking at work.

Christ, is it bad?



Not generally. She's a bit erratic.

She's retiring any minute.

Well, she doesn't seem to be. I'm
sorry.

I should have been clearer. This
isn't a complaint.

I'm ringing you as her friend to see
if you've got any concerns

or if we're just overreacting which
we probably are.

I haven't seen her for weeks.

~ Oh. ~ Not properly. Not to talk to.

~ Right. ~ Thing is Janet,
this is something I can't ignore.

R-ight. As in...?

Well, professionally. As her line
manager I'm obliged to...

~ address it. Have you discussed this
with anyone other than Rachel? ~ No.

Good.

Look, I'll look in on Gill as soon
as I can. Let's take it from there.

OK. Thanks. Thank you. Sorry to
ring.

~ Bye. ~ No, you did right to.

Bye, Janet.

We need to speak to the walker who
found him again.

See if we can get more details. Any
other walkers.

Did anyone see him make his way up
here? Was he accompanied?

~ House-to-house? ~ Where do you want to
start?

For now, where the housing is dense.
We'll get TAU in.

But let's make a start. Check anyone
missing from homes in the area.

I'm guessing between 35 and 45.
Shaven head.

~ Brief everyone. I'll ring from the
mortuary. ~ OK.

Oh, this is bothering me. Is it
lumpy there?

It's the bolts in your neck pushing
it out of shape.

~ Did you iron it damp?
~ My ex ironed it.

~ Very nice ex, to iron your shirts
for you. ~ Very recent ex.

~ Fair enough. ~ Mitch irons his own
shirts so it's less traumatic
when they leave.

Happily married for 14 years. No-one
is leaving anyone.

OK. Great. So, just after six this
morning, a walker

spotted a body wedged between two
rocks up on this moor

at Red Lumb here. Male, white, 30s
to 40s.

He's got a head wound and we found
traces of blood in the grass

suggesting that he was injured
before he got there.

Feeling is it's suspicious. He's got
no ID on him.

No phone. No cash. No keys.

He's in a spot that can only be
reached on foot

but he's not dressed for walking.

So, the blood traces the sniffer
dogs found

trace back from these rocks to this
ditch here

then the dogs lost the trail.

These houses here are just
a 15-minute walk away

so, the question is, given that he
had a head injury,

why did he not make for these houses
where he could have got assistance?

Why did he take himself off into the
wilds?

If he wasn't from round there, he
wouldn't have known

that he was that close to
civilisation.

Or he's possibly been taken up there
and didn't choose to go.

~ Could have been on the run. ~ If he's
got a head injury,

~ he won't have gone far on foot. ~ He's
only half a mile from this road.

Here. So he needn't have been on
foot before then.

~ Did the sniffer dogs find anything?
~ Nothing that appears to be a weapon.

~ He's wearing overalls and got a
shaved head. ~ So he's not homeless.

Well, you need a bit of kit, don't
you? Razor, water, mirror.

Has he been shoved between them
rocks do you reckon?

He looked like an animal.

Like an animal that takes itself off
to die.

I've no idea. Anyway, Pete, exhibits
officer is expecting you

at the mortuary and I've got a TAU
resource sergeant

to scope up a house-to-house
strategy.

I want the houses visible from the
body site to be visited.

Two teams - Mitch and Chris; Janet
and Lee.

I don't think we need to ring
Dodson.

Her Majesty was totally on it today
and she's given in her 30 days.

~ I have rung her. ~ You've already rung
her?

Yes. As discussed. While you were
gambolling about the moors

with our 'totally on it' boss, I was
telling the Detective Superintendent

~ how worried we are about her.
~ Then tell her we're not anymore. ~ No!

Because she's worried now. We've
worried her.

We can't unsay it. Try and cram the
cat back in the bag.

So maybe we tell her it's a much
smaller cat than we thought.

~ It's messy. I don't like it. ~ What did
she say?

She said, "The thing is Janet, it's
something I can't just ignore."

Oh, shit.

Hmm. Something round-ended. A
smooth, rounded-ended blunt object.

Not rock. I mean, yes, he's got
abrasions,

but this is what did for him.

Could he have fallen on whatever it
was?

Far more likely someone struck him.
He's got defence injuries.

Two broken fingers.

Will you have a big leaving do?

No. I hate speeches.

People you did a course with in
1990-blah

banging on about how wonderful you
are. Can't be doing with it.

Oooh. Tattoo.

It IS a murder enquiry. Cause of
death, concussion.

Looks like he's been whacked over
the head

with a round-ended, blunt
instrument.

He's got a tattoo on his upper left
arm. Maeve.

~ Maeve? ~ Maeve. Woman's name. Irish
M-A-E-V-E.

~ Yeah. Got it. ~ He's got an unusual
scar on his right leg.

It's old. It's gone white. But you
can see it's stitches. Botched job.

His hands suggest manual work -
ingrained dirt.

Scrapings from his skin and nails
have been sent to the lab

as have samples of blood from the
soles of his shoes.

We need to ID him. Let's get
an appeal in local papers asap.

We can't use the photo of him dead
so let's get an e-fit made

and issue that and a graphic of his
tattoo.

~ Stomach contents? ~ Yep.

It's odd. Some things about this
man's body

give the impression he looked after
himself;

some things suggest neglect. He's
had a meal.

Potatoes and bacon. Basic but a
cooked meal.

His liver shows high alcohol
consumption. His teeth are
atrocious.

His underpants and socks
are practically disintegrating

they are so old but his overalls and
shoes are fairly new.

~ It's... Like I say, it's odd.
~ If he'd had the concussion treated,

~ could he have survived? ~ Well, people
do, don't they?

Whoever hit him may not have
intended to kill but it's concussion

~ that's caused his death. ~ Back to the
question of why he didn't try
to get out.

~ Nothing further from the dog walker.
~ No joy with missing from homes? ~ No.

~ What did house-to-house throw up?
~ No-one we spoke to had seem him.

~ Where did you ask? ~ Here.

What about rural house-to-house?

I spoke to TAU and they're gonna
scope up a house-to-house.

He has muddy hands and boots. As I
said hours ago,

~ we need to be running
a rural house-to-house now. ~ Yes.

Make sure you do risks assessments -
dogs, guns, bulls, the lot.

What about this road?

The only road running from
this built-up area

past the moor out into
this agricultural land. Any ideas?

~ Road block. ~ Road block. First light
tomorrow.

~ Did you do that e-fit? ~ Yes.

~ See if any drivers recognise him.
~ Sure.

His description is gonna be in the
Rochdale Observer tomorrow.

~ As I asked you to. ~ Yes.

If any of you feel at any point like
taking initiative

instead of waiting for an action
list to land in your folder,

that would be lovely.

What's she in such a snit about?

I've no idea. She was happy as Larry
this morning.

This is what I said to Julie Dodson.
Erratic.

I've left her a voicemail. I didn't
want to leave a mad message

saying, "Ignore what I said this
morning."

I asked her to give me a ring.

What will she do when she retires,
Gill?

She'll be fine materially. She's got
loads of savings.

Dave paid off the house in the
divorce

and she gets her clothes in the sale
cos she's quite tight.

~ No, but what will she do?
~ Evening, Rachel. Janet.

Hiya.

~ Next customer.
~ Morning, boss.

~ Are you set up? ~ Yes.

~ Are you heading back soon? ~ Yep.

I want the risk assessments
hurried up

~ and the rural house-to-house
underway asap. ~ Understood.

~ Right. Bye. I've got to get back.
~ Just wait for this one.

Good morning, sir. Thank you
for stopping.

We're making enquiries this morning.
We're hoping to identify someone.

~ Do you recognise this man? ~ No. Not
at all. Sorry.

Thank you. Good day.

How long before you've done
risk assessments for house-to-house?

~ Gill wants us to get a move on.
~ OK. I'll chivvy.

Mitch to go with Lee; you to go with
Chris.

~ Right you are. ~ How was she this
morning?

~ Seemed fine. ~ Do you think Dodson said
anything? ~ God knows.

~ Janet! ~ I've been summoned. Ta-ta

Good luck.

There's a woman downstairs who says
she knows who he is.

~ Fancy talking to her? ~ Definitely.

~ What about house-to-house? Shall
I skip it? ~ Let's see what she says.

All right, boys. Action.

~ I'm Maeve. ~ Maeve?

On the tattoo on this man?

His name's Mike Greenholme. The man
you found.

And we used to be together.

Here.

Is this your baby or was it Mike's?

She's 16 now. We haven't seen
Mike...

I'm not anything to do with...

~ Please could you tell me about Mike.
~ Has someone killed him?

Why don't know much at this stage but
we are treating it

as a murder enquiry, yes.

But what was he doing back here?

Why? Where did you think he was?

We're looking for this gentleman.
Do you recognise him?

I don't think so. No. Sorry.

We're making enquiries.
We're looking to identify this man.

~ Do you recognise him? ~ No. No, I
don't.

~ You've not seen this gentleman.
Perhaps in blue overalls? ~ No.

OK. Thanks for your help.

I fell pregnant.

He did right. He stuck with me but
he was never really...

He was not cut out for it.

He struggled. We had no money.

He couldn't get a job.

It was too much for him.

I wasn't that surprised when he
left.

When did he leave?

They had a row after breakfast. No
money. No nappies.

Why was he so useless? He went out
to get nappies

with change they scraped together
and he never came back.

That was 15 years ago. We tried to
trace him at the time.

He's a grown man. If he chooses to
walk out of his life

that's up to him. Maeve thought he'd
done a runner to London.

~ Why? ~ She just thought that's where
people do a runner to.

Now she thinks he might have come
back to find them.

She's only half an hour down the
road from where his body turned up.

She hasn't moved. Oh, and he didn't
have that scar when she knew him.

So he's what? He's come back after
all this time to find his family?

Got himself robbed and attacked and
ended up dead on the moors?

We've got a name and a photo.
We know where he used to live.

~ Who says he went away? ~ Well, where's
he been for 15 years

~ if he hasn't been away? ~ Exactly.

~ See what I mean? Nice as pie. ~ Dodson
can't have said anything.

Thank God.

There are no car keys left. Lee and
Mitch must have taken the last set.

~ Oh, dear (!)
~ We're stuffed now, aren't we?

You are. Stuffed as a kipper.

Are you being sly?

Sly's a bit strong. I prefer to think
of it as practical.

Every time we get put in a
car together,

you sit in the driving seat cos you
think you're Lewis Hamilton

and I have to sit on the passenger
side feeding you Mint Imperials.

~ Have you got keys? ~ I'm getting
narked off with that arrangement.

~ Have you? ~ Er... possibly.

~ Would you hold my file and bag,
please? ~ Yes, Ma'am.

You're a bloody nuisance.

~ Don't mind me. I'll get used to it
in a minute. ~ Stop it.

Stop what?

Jeez. Stop! No!

One positive response to the form in
five hours

and nobody knew the name Mike
Greenholme

but this fella reckons
he may possibly have seen him.

He had some rubbish removed from his
front garden a couple of weeks back.

~ He thinks it might be our guy that
collected it. ~ Council collection?

A bloke asked if he wanted the waste
disposed of.

Recycled. There was some old paint
cans and some stuff

the council won't take so he said
he did.

The bloke said someone would
come back the next day and take it.

They arranged a price. The next day,
someone did come back,

possibly Mike, loaded the stuff on
to the back of a dark green pickup

~ He took it away.
~ Did he speak to him? ~ No.

He didn't speak
to him when he paid him?

~ He thought he might be Polish. ~ Where
did this first bloke come from?

~ The one that knocked on his door.
~ He wondered that and asked.

He mumbled some farm name and
gestured it was up.

He thought it was possibly West
something.

Where's this first bloke live? The
one that got the waste collected?

~ Here. ~ Right. So, moving outwards
looking for high spots.

That's up from his place. Hassup
Hill.

But not by much.

~ Oh, but that is. Shutts Hill.
~ It's not west, is it?

No, but that ridge is high.

Goes all the way along there. Houses
dotted along it.

Any called West anything?

I could live out here.

I could buy that barn and convert
it.

What about your women - daughters,
stepdaughters, granddaughters
and exes?

Well, they'd come and visit. I'd
cook 'em a roast. They'd drop by.

~ That's a great shirt by the way.
~ Thank you.

~ Looks great on you.
~ Don't flirt with me, please.

~ I don't want it. ~ O-K.

How have you managed to stay on such
good terms with them all?

My exes? My many exes?

Well, it's not that many really.
I like them.

And though I've been stupid, very
stupid,

I don't think I've ever
been... cruel.

Hi, Rach.

Hiya. How you getting on?

Two visits. Nothing doing. We're just
coming up over Clough Ridge

about to drop in at...

Four Gates Farm, Little Stoney
Field.

Right. I want you to skip that, turn
round and go

to Easterby Farm at Higher
Shorefield.

It's a couple of miles south of
Clough Ridge.

Yeah. There's a possibility Mike
Greenholme might have worked there.

We've had to guess at the name. It's
a long shot.

~ We've not risk assessed it.
~ There's two of us.

Do you want to run it by Gill?

I did a background. No dangerous
dogs. No gun licence.

~ Take that initiative. ~ You could be
there in 10 minutes. Let's do it.

~ Right decision. ~ OK.

OK. Homeowner's name. Pritchard.

Mr Callum Pritchard. Mrs E
Pritchard.

Wouldn't want your converted barn up
here, would you?

Well, that could be the 'recycling'
service. Take junk for money,

~ pile it on the land. Money for
nothing. ~ Could be.

That looks like a green pickup to me.

Mr Pritchard? Hello.

Are you Mr Pritchard?

~ Detective Constable Scott.
~ Detective Constable Crowley.

We're making enquiries about a man
called Mike Greenholme.

Do you know him?

~ No. ~ You don't?

Has he ever worked here? A member of
the public thinks

that Mike might have collected waste
from his property

a couple of weeks ago in a dark
green pickup.

~ I'll ask my wife. Just a minute. ~ Is
Mrs Pritchard here? That'd be great.

~ Excuse me, please. I'm pissed.
~ Get in. You useless pig.

Sorry about that. I'm married to an
animal. What you here for?

Detective Constable Scott, Mrs
Pritchard.

This is Detective Constable Crowley.
We're enquiring about Mike
Greenholme.

~ Mike who? ~ Greenholme. We believe he
may have worked here.

Well, we have people passing all the
time doing odd jobs and that

but we've not had a Greenholme.

Carl'd know if he was sober.

He's better wi' names than I am.

~ Did you ask him? ~ We did but he
didn't seem to remember the name.

A member of the public told us they
believed a Mike Greenholme...

DC 3-2 to 3-1. Crowley
in the company of DC 35-125 Scott.

In pursuit of a purple Nissan Micra.

Registration R748 MGJ.

Driving west on Red Lumb Lane
towards Edenfield Road.

Driver believed to be Callum
Pritchard. We need uniform backup.

Roger. I'll inform the duty
officers.

Proceeding while we wait.

~ Understood. Bear with me a sec.
~ Who's Lewis Hamilton now?

Shit!

He's crashed. We need an ambulance.

Red Lumb Lane towards Red Lumb
village.

Mr Pritchard. Mr Pritchard, can you
hear me?

~ I think he's dead.
~ Shit!

Mr Pritchard! Mr Pritchard!

Can you hear me?

DC Crowley to HQ, it looks like a
fatal.

DC Scott is trying to resuscitate.
Do you have an ETA

~ for ambulance and Traffic? ~ They're
on their way. With you in
a few minutes.

Call Rachel.

Yeah. I will do. As soon as I can.
And you. Bye.

He says a sullen-looking guy felled
a tree for him.

~ What's up? ~ My mother's dead.

~ How? ~ Heart attack. That was our
Alison.

Tell Gill. Do what you've got to do.

~ Hello. ~ Rachel, it's Chris.

We went to the Pritchard place.
Pritchard made a break for it.

He drove off. We gave chase. He's
driven into a wall.

~ We suspect he's dead. ~ Shit.

Ambulance is on its way. Traffic is
on its way.

Janet's trying to resuscitate. He's
gone.

Rachel, the setup at
the Pritchards is suspicious.

When we got there, he seemed to be
terribly drunk.

I'm now thinking he wasn't. He got
into that car like grease lightning.

Mrs Pritchard was also on the
property.

Just before he made a break for it,
I saw what looked like blood

on the forecourt. Mrs Pritchard is
still at the property.

They rounded a corner and Pritchard
had smashed into a wall.

They think he's dead. He is dead.

Ambulance and Traffic are on their
way.

Put that cigarette out now. You're
on duty.

~ Sorry, boss. ~ Tell Pete to do the
same.

He's not smoking. Janet and Chris
are telling me

~ they suspect the Pritchards know
something about Greenholme. ~ Why?

There's a vehicle at the property
that fits in with information

we got in a tip-off about rubbish
and Janet reckons she saw
blood on the ground.

As soon as you give Mrs Pritchard
the death message, get her away

~ and get a search team in. ~ We can't
get her out without passing
the crash.

~ There's just one road. ~ Well, keep
her there till it's all cleared up.

~ Tell her about your mum.
~ Did you risk assess that farm?

~ Not quite. ~ Why the hell not?!

I did a background check.

But the tip-off gave the wrong farm
name so I had to guess.

I just... I wanted to act as quickly
as possible.

Look where that's landed us. Where
are you now?

~ At the pod. ~ Right, get a warrant
sorted.

Get yourself over to the farm. I'll
get CSO and CSIs organised.

~ Bye. ~ OK.

Once we've breathalysed you, we'll
take you back

where you and DC Crowley will be
interviewed.

One single, steady breath and
blow...

till I tell you to stop.

Stop.

Come with me.

Why was Pritchard trying to get
away?

~ Get away from being questioned. ~ Was
he trying to dispose of something?

A murder weapon?

We need to search that car.

He could have ditched something
before he crashed.

We need to search the route as well.
Call Gill.

And do NOT tell her about my mum.
I'll tell her when it's right.

Janet, you've done nothing wrong.

Are you OK?

What the HELL is going on?

Where's Cal?

~ Have they arrested him? ~ No.

Mrs Pritchard, I am very sorry
to inform you your husband is dead.

~ You're shitting me. ~ No,
Mrs Pritchard, I'm afraid not.

~ He can't be. I've just seen him.
~ He was involved in a road accident.

~ His car hit a wall. ~ His car
hit a wall?

They were chasing him. They were
chasing after him.

That's why he hit a fucking wall!

You've killed him!

Mrs Pritchard... Mrs Pritchard, I
need you to listen to me.

~ There'll be a thorough investigation
into this accident. ~ By who?

~ Road Traffic Collision
Investigators. ~ The police (!)

They will find out exactly
what caused your husband's death.

~ Well, where is he? ~ He's been taken
away.

~ To the hospital? ~ No, but he was seen
by paramedics

~ and a doctor at the scene. ~ Why
didn't they take him to hospital?

Because when they arrived, he was
dead

and they knew that there was nothing
that they could do and...

ambulances don't take dead bodies.

Well, they should take him to the
hospital.

Mrs Pritchard, not if a person is
dead.

So... So where is he?

He's at the mortuary.

~ Undertakers took him there.
~ Cal?

C...

~ Have you got no clothes in your
locker? ~ No. They're in the washer.

I took them home the other day.

~ Is this evidence? ~ No, health and
safety.

~ Have you had a hepatitis jab, Janet?
~ Er... no.

I don't think I have. No.

You'll need to have one.

Hey. Hey! You've got no right to
search this place!

~ We've done nothing! ~ We've following
up information we have

about a Mike Greenholme who we
believe worked here.

I don't know who he is! Listen,
you've killed my husband

and you think you can come in here
and poke around. Get lost!

We have a warrant, Mrs Pritchard.

Oh.

We've started the search and boss,
there's been a fire up here.

You can still smell the smoke. I
rang the fire brigade.

They came out here last night to a
burning caravan.

The Pritchards didn't call them, a
motorist did.

~ The area fire officer said he
thought it was suspicious.
~ They always do.

Pritchard told them it was
an accident. Said he dropped a fag.

Said he was sleeping in there.

We searched the bedroom in
the house. There are two occupants.

The blood Janet saw is gone. It's
been cleaned up.

~ Is Mrs Pritchard still kicking off?
~ The on-call locum has given her
a sedative.

She wanted it. He says she needs to
be monitored in hospital.

Send her in a van so she doesn't
have to see the smashed-up car.

~ An arrest van? ~ Yeah. Exactly. Not
ideal, is it?

Do you know what, Rachel? If you'd
done a risk assessment,

you'd have known about this fire
hours ago!

Hello?

Hello.

Police officers. Hello.

Where are you?

Hello.

You're OK.

This is where they were. They were
all huddled in here.

They've been taken for check-ups.
Make sure they're all OK.

~ Lee's with them.
~ What are they saying?

Couldn't get much sense out of them.
Didn't want to push it.
Terrified. Confused.

~ They're living here?
~ Yep. ~ Good God!

~ Toilet. ~ I need to tell Dodson about
this.

I've been interviewed by Traffic and
suspended from driving.

That's nothing. You're being
investigated.

~ What?! ~ I've just been speaking to
Professional Standards.

They've emailed your Section 9
papers which I have to serve you.

What...? What am I supposed to have
done?

It's a fatal road accident involving
a police officer.

~ You could go to prison for that.
~ She won't. ~ She could.

~ They just have to rule it out.
~ There's someone coming in

from Professional Standards - it's a
joint investigation

between them and Traffic. It puts
the whole syndicate under scrutiny.

We've just found three men locked up
in a shed in the Pritchard place -

shaved heads, overalls, same as Mike
Greenholme.

So I've said to Traffic, once
they've finished with Mrs Pritchard

we'd like to talk to her and if she
doesn't co-operate

we'll be arresting her on suspicion
of forced labour and imprisonment.

Which is why I'm here cos it's
growing.

Guess who'd be the ideal person to
interview her

if it wasn't totally out of
the question, JANET? What a bummer!

~ Gill...
~ While we're on the subject
of very aggravating things,

don't go running to people telling
them you're worried about me.

You came in here yesterday looking
at me like a vet.

I was waiting for you to prise
my mouth open.

~ I didn't tell her I'd spoken with
you. ~ You didn't need to.

"How are you?" "Fine." "Yeah, but,
how are you?"

~ "I'm fine." ~ I tried to talk to you
way back when you returned to work

after Helen Bartlett abducted you and
I asked you

~ how you were getting on with
counselling. ~ I said it was rubbish.

~ Which it is. ~ You said you'd stopped
going and I said I found it helpful

~ after I got stabbed. ~ He talked
touchy-feely rubbish.

Because you weren't receptive and
your behaviour is erratic,

and because I've been aware of you
drinking more lately,

and at work, and because I've known
you for over 20 years,

~ and I don't think you're fine - ~ She
rang me and I don't think
you're fine.

I'm not gonna sit here and
be patronised and preached at.

I know exactly what's up with me. I
can't make decisions.

I can but not like I used to.

It's a confidence thing. I doubt
myself. I have a drink, I don't.

It works. If you think I'm gonna
give anyone the satisfaction

of falling to pieces five minutes
before I retire or ever,

~ you don't know me. ~ Don't be daft. Of
course we do.

Which is why you need to put your
spikes in, listen

and stop being a stubborn cow!

Point taken.

~ How you doing? ~ Er...

I had a chat with Traffic
who suspended me from driving.

I had a chat with Gill who lambasted
me.

I had a chat with Professional
Standards

and they're investigating me.

You did nothing wrong.

We did, Chris. We didn't follow
procedure and things went very wrong.

~ We did. ~ No, you and Rachel were all
gung-ho about us

getting to the Pritchards when
we should have risk assessed it.

~ But you two wouldn't have it. ~ No
risk assessment on Earth

would have told us Pritchard would
do anything like that.

Well, he's dead now. That man's dead
and that's it.

But it's not your fault.

If we hadn't done what we did today,
he wouldn't be.

We radioed in when we followed him
by the book.

We continued while the duty officer
checked it out by the book.

We weren't even that close to him.

He drove into a wall. We are not
responsible for his death.

You can put whatever spin you like on
the definition of fault

but I am completely tied up with
that man's death.

I'm really sorry, Janet.

~ We were mucking about. ~ That's got no
bearing on anything.

It just makes you feel bad.

Come here.

I don't want any of this.

I know.

~ Boss... ~ Social Services have found
places for the men

in a homeless hostel and they're
being checked out by a doctor.

As soon as we've had the all clear,
we can get them in.

We should be able to fit that in for
later tonight.

Let's see what they know about
Greenholme and what they say

about what the hell has been going
on at that farm.

~ Well, they've been slaves.
~ What is wrong with people?

Then we can talk to Mrs Pritchard.

As soon as she's been discharged
from hospital.

She hasn't talked to Traffic yet.
And she'll be baying for blood.

~ She's saying we're murdering pigs.
~ That's interesting.

It's looking like the Pritchards are
too.

We've found a baseball bat in one of
the fields along the chase route.

Possibly flung over the hedge by Cal
Pritchard. It's got blood on it.

It's gone to the lab. I shouldn't
have put the phone down on you.

~ Totally unprofessional. ~ I should've
risk assessed the farm.

Oh.

My mum died today.

~ You're kidding. ~ No. This morning.
Heart attack.

Rachel, I'm sorry. Listen, go.

~ Well, I can't. ~ Yeah, you can. You're
entitled to compassionate leave.

~ Death of a close relative. ~ None of
that really applies.

~ No, well... ~ Well, I would like to
see my sister. ~ Go.

Go. Go.

~ Janet, I'm so sorry.
~ It's not your fault.

~ I should have risk assessed
the farm. ~ It wouldn't have mattered.

Look, I'm sorry I haven't seen you
since. It's...

~ It's been a mad day. ~ Yeah.

God, you've had a shit time of it.

I've got to nip out. Do you want
anything?

No. Ta.

You did nothing wrong. Everything
will be all right, Janet.

I promise you.

Yes. Oh, no. Just on the side,
thanks.

And they can come when they're
ready.

Is this bad of me? I'm famished.
I'm sorry.

Are you sure? Oh, that's right.
You're... And I'm...

Thanks, love.

I feel absolutely dreadful.

Do you?

I just couldn't find it in me to
forgive her

for the way she treated us when we
were kids.

I don't think I ever can.

But I will live with that.

I will. But you were nicer to her.
You gave her another chance.

Not much of one.

She was a tiny little thing when they
laid her out.

~ Size 3 feet.
~ Did they ring you?

No, they came round. "Are you Alison
Newley?" "Yes."

"Do you know Sharon Bailey?" "Yes."

"She's my mother."

"Well, I'm sorry to inform you but
she's dead."

~ I didn't know the police did it when
it was natural causes. ~ Sudden death.

Then they gave me a lift to the
mortuary to...

to identify her.

Massive heart attack, they reckon.
Quick.

So we need to get ourselves checked
out.

Cholesterol. Blood pressure. The lot.
We might be sitting on a time bomb!

Thanks, love. Dig in.

Mind you. It's lifestyle, isn't it?

We're not exactly washing our
cornflakes down with Diamond White.

~ She never had breakfast. ~ No.

~ Coffee and fag.
~ That's what I have.

~ Well, you should have porridge.
~ I hate porridge.

So do I.

In a shop, though.

~ In a corner shop. How sad is that?
~ She'd have had help.

She wouldn't have been on her own.
Or with that twat Rufus.

She wasn't beaten to death by him
which she easily could have been.

She died doing something she loved.

Buying fags.

We're orphans.

Yeah, I know.

When have you got to get back?

In a bit. Soon.

I nearly rang Strangeways so they
could let our Dom know.

But that's not how you find out, is
it?

~ Let's just visit him together. ~ Show
him that he's still got us.

Hm.

Do you think they'll give him day
release for the funeral?

I doubt it.

How's your love life?

~ Quiet. ~ Good.

A fella died at work today.

A member of the public. A suspect.

Janet was chasing him and he drove
into a wall.

My God.

Seize the bloody day, eh?

Mum asked me if she could come and
stay with me

and I told her no.

She couldn't have stayed with you.

She wasn't a normal person.

She was sick in mind and body.

She'd have just had a massive heart
attack on your bathroom floor

instead of in that shop and you'd
have come home

and you'd have thought you could
have saved her.

Yeah, no-one could.

Exactly, Rachel. No-one could.

How did they know you were
next-of-kin?

~ She had a donor card. ~ Wh...?!

I know.

Everything but the eyes.

~ Is Evie Pritchard still talking to
Traffic? ~ Yeah.

I don't know what they expect her to
know about the crash.

~ She didn't see it. ~ Has Janet gone
home?

Just this second.

Janet!

Hey, wait.

I'm sorry. This is weird to say this
now but if I don't,

~ it's just gonna get weirder.
~ What? ~ My mum died.

~ When? ~ Today. ~ When today? ~ This
morning.

~ Alison rang just before Chris rang
to tell me about the... ~ .. crash.

~ Jesus. ~ I know.

I'm so sorry, Rach.

Oh, it's OK.

~ OK. ~ I mean, I'm not weeping and
wailing.

No. How did she...?

Heart attack.

Instant.

What are you crying for?

She's my mad mum not yours.

I'm sorry. I...

I don't know where that came from.

It was kind of you not to tell me.
You could've.

Thank you.

We've both had someone die on us
today.

How are you feeling, Sandy?

A bit hot.

Let's see if we can get a bit of air
in here.

Apart from that, is there anything
you need?

I'd like to go home.

~ Where's home? ~ Evie's.

Mrs Pritchard's?

~ Evie and Cal. ~ That's home?

~ Do you like it there? ~ Yeah.

Do you have a room in Evie and Cal's
house?

No.

~ Where do you live then? ~ Shed.

You live in the shed. Do you sleep
in the shed?

Sleep in t'shed, yeah.

~ Not on my own, though. ~ Who sleeps in
there with you, Sandy?

Furqan and Zane and me.

~ Mike? ~ No.

~ I wanna go home. ~ We'll get you
somewhere comfortable.

~ Didn't like Mike being mentioned.
~ No.

~ Where do you eat your meals at
Evie's? ~ We get hot meals Friday.

And on the other days?

Well, well, well...

all sorts. Tins.

~ Not cooked? ~ Cooked meal Friday.

I see.

~ And where do you eat your meals?
~ Shed.

Whoo. What's it like in the winter?
That shed.

It's cold. Yeah.

~ It does get cold. ~ I bet it does.

~ Do you work at Evie's? ~ Work at
Evie's? Yeah.

~ What sort of work? ~ Do you know where
Mike went?

~ Mike Greenholme? ~ Do you know where
he went? We was worried.

Do you know where Des is?

Who's Des?

~ Yeah. Who the hell is Des?
~ He disappeared with Mike.

Are we looking for another body?

~ No respect! You think that you can
fob me off, do you? ~ Calm down!

~ We've got a problem. ~ What?
~ Has everyone out there seen you?

~ A few people. ~ I want the ground to
swallow me up.

Have you got anything on me? Cos
I'm sick of looking at your
fucking face!