Traces (2019–…): Season 2, Episode 3 - Episode #2.3 - full transcript
The decision
by the Dundee Times
to publish the letter
is seen by some as surprising,
given the extreme
racist content.
But the newspaper insists
that showing the...
Everyone is talking
about the letter in the paper.
"Let us have a dagger
between our teeth,
a bomb in our hands
and an infinite scorn
in our hearts.
For we are pure.
And they are not."
- Please.
- I think he's left-handed.
- Who?
- The bomber.
Memes all over TikTok about it.
Can I have a lift, Mum?
You'll be ridiculously early.
What's wrong with the bus?
I don't know
how to say this.
But I won't be in today.
Or tomorrow.
I've left Dundee.
♪♪ Baby, do you
understand me now
*TRACES*
Season 02 Episode 03
♪♪ Sometimes I feel
a little mad
♪♪ But don't you know that no one alive
can always be an angel
♪♪ When things go wrong
I seem to be bad
♪♪ Oh, I'm just a soul
whose intentions are good
♪♪ Oh Lord, please don't let me
be misunderstood♪♪
Episode Title: "Episode 03"
Aired on: March 01, 2022.
Emergency summit.
Sarah's office. Now.
What?
Emma's emigrated to love island
and Sarah's losing her shit.
Bring whatever food you have.
Oh, parcel for you.
They look like new pillows.
How do you do that?
Years of staring.
- Did you call her?
- No.
She asked me to keep
her lab coat for her!
I mean, who does she think
she is?
Some research director
on sabbatical?
"Oh! I've just got to go
and find myself for a few weeks,
so I won't be in. Oh, PS.
Can I just stroll back in
whenever I fancy?"
I'm a little bit surprised,
I have to say.
- I'm furious.
- Look, she's young.
They do whatever the hell
they want.
Life doesn't work like that.
For young people
it sort of does.
I have supported her
throughout this whole thing.
- You have.
- Every step of it.
So, maybe she assumed
you'd get it.
Sarah, Phil MacAfee walked out
of that court room.
He walked out into the city
where she lives.
The man who murdered her mother.
So. She's scared. She's angry.
She bolts.
You can't just run away.
She wasn't thinking straight.
Who is thinking straight?
You alright?
Yeah.
Sweet tea
and luckily for all,
I've brought
some of my scones today.
More now that Emma's gone.
Bad news, good news.
I've got to go.
I've got a scene
out at Loch Lee. Body parts.
No peace for the wicked.
I think it's "no rest"
Wrong. The original,
biblical version is "no peace".
Right.
Kathy, could you run me up
a "Time Allocation Survey"?
- For?
- Me.
So, I can see how you allocate
your professional time.
Say, the week starting
the seventh?
Thanks!
As you were.
- It's just a form.
- No, it's not.
Just breathe. Think of Friday.
You're gonna to be back in time
for your house guest?
That is my intention.
She's got
new pillows.
What size shoe are you?
- Sorry?
- Your first field trip.
We need to find you some waders.
A jaw bone's washed up
out in the sticks.
It's perfect timing
for the study.
I'll pick you up
after the strategy meeting.
Oh, and pack your toothbrush.
It's gonna be an overnight.
No more. 'Cause I've got to be
back, so...
She's scared. She does a runner.
No,
I reckon Phil Macafee
is only got six months
as a free man.
He's got lucky once,
he's still got
the Culp Hom trial to go.
Fiscal says he's got no chance
with that.
I'm just stunned about Emma.
I just feel really
quite toppled by it.
I need to have a word
with myself.
No,
I totally get it.
It hurts.
You were there for her.
So were you.
Yeah.
So, this letter.
You might be lucky.
Get something back from the lab.
DNA? Prints?
Yeah. We're all over it. Yeah...
Kitty recons the author
might be left-handed.
- Your daughter?
- Yeah.
It's all over Twitter.
Or TikTok.
Screen time is way longer
than her sleeping hours.
I'll get that black pill result
to you later today.
Great. Thanks.
Sarah,
about Emma.
She was lucky.
To have you.
Oh, Aye. Dundee Times
are spouting some bullshit
about moral responsibility
to print.
Never mind that far righters
will be retweeting that shit
till Kingdom come.
Apparently some of it's
a Mussolini quote.
The whole thing is a car crash.
He's made us look like clowns.
We don't know the author
of that letter is the bomber.
We don't know it's not.
Still nothing from the lab?
Results any time.
Counter terrorism
are taking apart
the language used in the letter.
They're looking at racist cells.
Alt-right chat rooms.
Recent threats.
Is it from an individual
or a group?
Where are we with Dundeats?
Doesn't physically exist.
No face. No voice.
No contact number. No address.
The whole Dundeats thing
is virtually an algorithm.
So, I finally got through
to a guy
at a call centre in,
well, somewhere,
who could tell me which riders
worked in the area on Sunday
but wouldn't he hand over
the names.
Said the information
was classified.
Oh, please.
So, he's contacting the riders
and they have to,
get this, voluntarily,
come to us.
Great. Now they can
prepare themselves.
Hoover up any gunpowder
lying around
in their Dundeats box.
We need to go to them.
Get out there.
We need to speak
to those riders today.
We need to find out
who collected or delivered food
near the bomb locations.
How long have they worked
for Dundeats.
And did any of them know
Kim and Tam?
Any word on their status?
Legal. Papers are good.
Any family here?
Just each other.
They were friends.
Just friends but good friends.
They grew up
in a children's home in Vietnam,
then moved over here.
No enemies.
That they knew of.
Some of their clients
have written
on the salon's Facebook page.
Nothing but praise.
Wow.
Have you never been out here?
Never been out of the city.
God. I would go insane
if I didn't get out.
You don't live in Dundee?
Outside. In the middle
of nowhere.
Two dogs. No people. Heaven.
- On your own?
- Yup.
- Don't you get lonely?
- No.
It's all I know.
My parents were farmers.
Not entirely by choice.
How do you mean?
It was a mixed race marriage
in Edmonton in the seventies.
Hey, grab my laptop.
We need to prep.
Okay, we wave 'em down.
Flag them.
Do whatever we can
without getting run over.
Keep it light, friendly.
We need these riders to open up.
- Hello again.
- Hey.
The contents of the black pill
confirmed as Prazodone.
It's an atypical antidepressant,
- branded as Serapaxin.
- Brilliant.
Well we'll see if we can get
a warrant.
See who's being prescribed it.
Thank you.
And, I had a thought about CCTV.
Have a look at every
bit of footage you have.
After the bomb.
Police footage.
News footage. Everything.
Spree bombers sometimes come back
to the scene.
- Revel in their work.
- Okay.
That's great. Thank you.
No problem.
See, see you, then.
Yup. Bye.
All of them? Missing?
One of them is 16 I think.
Yeah. 16.
Missing for eight months.
- So weird.
- Happens.
Young men usually,
go missing every year, up here.
They take off into the wilds.
Proving something or
getting away from something.
Don't know the land.
Get into trouble, drink or
slip and fall into a loch.
And with every one
of those photos
- comes a family just climbing the walls.
- God.
I know. It's devastating.
But what I've learned is,
identifying those remains
gives a family so much.
It's an opportunity
to know what happened,
and to lay someone
they love to rest.
That's what we do.
We allow that family to move on.
In some sense.
Afternoon, Charlie.
Over here.
There you go.
So. Easily disarticulated
from the head
if submerged in the water
for a few months.
The structure of the jaw means
it can easily be caught on a root
or low-hanging tree.
Commonly the first part
of a disarticulated body to wash up.
Why is that useful?
- Dental records?
- Good.
This goes straight
to the odontologist.
We may find an immediate match
which'll save
a lot of mortuary time.
Charlie, can we get this
photographed and sent off
- to dental, please?
- Sure thing.
You're in charge
of logging all other body parts.
So, when you find
something, don't pick it up.
Let me do that.
You flag it, measure it, log it,
photograph it
and leave it in situ. Okay?
Trust me. You'll be fine.
Easy for you to say.
This came back from pathology.
Fragments found
in one of the victims.
This is mostly shop window.
The glass is thick.
Straight. Flat.
And these bits
could be from the glass jar,
that contained the bomb.
Curved, thinner.
These pieces were found
between the planter
and the shop window,
so it's possible.
But how do we prove
that this is the actual glass jar
that contained the bomb?
Because that's what a jury needs to see.
They need to see the actual jar.
There's something here.
What's that?
- Not sure.
- Come on.
- Metacarpal.
- Good. Which?
- Don't know.
- That is the third.
Now we look for more.
Okay, I want
their contact details,
I want a photograph of them
and their bikes
And most importantly,
I want to see their reaction
when they see that picture.
No idea.
Nobody recognises
a Dundeats rider.
We all work for everyone.
Dundeats, Chowcart, Deliverdish.
They don't offer any help.
We're not human. We're robots.
I was hit by a car.
- You ring riders' support.
- Half an hour online training...
First question they ask is,
"How is the food? Is the food okay?"
People deal drugs
out of these boxes.
Just because someone has
a Dundeats box on their back,
doesn't mean they're doing
a delivery for Dundeats.
I blacked out my box.
They don't give a shit about me.
So, I'm not going to promote
their company name. No way.
The only reason
you make that call is to keep your job
Can I get some help
over here please?
Here.
What?
I take it all back.
It's not just a lost kid.
Dismembered?
We'll get everything
back to the mortuary and see.
One thing I would say,
if this body went in whole,
this is how it would behave.
But there's still that rope
around those ankles so...
- Suspicious until proved otherwise.
- Yup.
Okay. I'll hold off
on divers for now
and then I'll call the
fiscal and the pathologist.
Great.
So, this is a murder now?
Not necessarily.
But there's rope
around the feet.
Okay. So, obviously a rope
around ankles is not accidental.
But it is not for us
to hypothesize or judge.
Come on. Back to it.
Come and look.
Black on the glass.
I've cleaned away the blood,
leaving two different blacks.
Two layers.
Firstly, we have a thin line
of incinerated condom.
Indistinguishable from the latex rim
we found with the lid.
We also have potassium chlorate
residue from the bomb itself.
Not much left because
everything burns
so hot and fast.
But... Look...
There's another layer.
A third layer of black.
Ink?
Tell the sorters to look for
other pieces of curved glass
like this.
With bits of black.
Well, that gave us nothing.
I mean, a whole lot of nothing,
but still nothing.
- Apart from some deeply unhappy riders.
- Aye.
So, we've got a suspect
that wears a uniform that opens doors
wherever they go.
Who no one recognises.
Kathy?
Hey, look at you.
What are you thinking?
I need to measure but
it looks the same length
as the other one to me.
Okay.
Which might mean?
Go on.
From the other hand?
To be confirmed but good.
Wait... There's something else.
- Oh, my God.
- It's okay. Take a minute.
Stay with me
and think about this, okay.
This is good.
The head has a missing jawbone.
And we already have that.
This is great progress.
This is the best part of the job.
Not the worst. I promise.
Those riders.
They were angry.
What you thinking?
Could be fuelling
something?
A motive?
Right,
what have we got?
Well, we now know that
just because a rider
has a Dundeats box on their back,
doesn't mean
he works for Dundeats.
So, now we need a list of every
food delivery rider
in the vicinity of that nail bar
an hour before
that bomb went off.
We've just tripled our suspects.
So, we got a warrant
for the list of patients
on your anti-depressant,
Prazodone.
Please, God.
Tell me it's a short list.
Nine thousand and fourteen.
What?
Prazodone's supposed to be
atypical.
Compared to your
bog-standard antidepressant,
- it is.
- Nine thousand?
And 14.
How are we supposed to wade
through this? And fast?
And comparing these names
to what?
We're supposed to be coming up
with a profile here,
not staring into the abyss.
- Results back from the lab.
- Finally.
No prints or DNA on the letter.
- What? Nothing?
- Sorry.
Christ.
How can there be nothing?
Because somebody knows
what they're doing.
It's ruined, isn't it?
There's always a chance.
Once you test for DNA or prints
with a bit of ninhydrin.
Your lab has been
pretty thorough.
There isn't a single stroke of
ink that hasn't been drenched
in the stuff.
I can't do any ink analysis
or ink comparisons
on this letter.
Sorry.
Oh. Great.
Have you got five minutes?
I just want to show you
something.
Sure.
Come on. You look like
you need a drink.
So, the eyewitnesses,
outside the nail bar,
what they described,
I thought we could see it
for ourselves.
Wait for it.
How's it going?
I'm just drowning in this stuff.
Just...
getting nowhere.
Have you asked for help?
Yeah, but we know
what that means.
Not this time.
What?
You got me.
Da-dah! I am your new master
of data.
You made
the request.
And you got the best.
That's why I'm here.
Wow.
- Really?
- Yes, really.
That's great news.
Brilliant. Wow.
Yay!
So, what about flooding?
Recent flooding?
According to
this local fishing forum,
the levels have remained
the same.
Oh. Wait.
Let me check something.
There was a landslide up top.
Just there.
Above the loch. Near the falls.
The path was blocked
for a few days.
Fishermen loved it.
No walkers for days.
That is good.
The landslide may have caused
floating body parts to move
from A to B.
Okay, I'm turning in.
Er...
It's a big deal.
Your first day in the field.
It's a lot. To see.
And these things have a habit
of creeping up on you.
So, just so you know,
the support is out there.
Counselling. If you need.
And if you feel spooked later,
just give me a knock.
Thanks.
Okay.
Okay, you are not my
pre-arranged bootie call.
I'm sorry.
Just wanted to say hi.
How's it going?
Found a pair of feet. A head.
How about you?
Jeez.
I can't compete with that.
Oh, no need. How's bomb-land?
Fine. Bit scary.
Yeah. You okay?
Neil, okay?
Yep.
- Oh.
- No, it's just.
I wanted to ask you something.
Oh shit. Er, bootie-calling.
Got to go! Sorry!
Finally! God!
- Hey.
- Hey.
You look good.
So do you.
Oh, I wanted to be post-bath
for this call.
Glistening with skin product but
instead you have me in plaid
and smelling of whisky so.
It's okay.
You packed? Checked in yet?
No.
Oh. Living by
the seat of your pants.
- Kathy.
- Yeah?
I'm not coming on Friday.
What?
I went out last week.
On a date.
Which we said was allowed.
We did.
But...
- You had a nice time. With her.
- Yeah.
I did.
Oh fuck!
- I'm sorry.
- No, I mean, you
do what you want.
You sound...
I'm fine.
- It's okay.
- Is it?
Yeah. It was just a holiday.
Friends, hanging out.
Bit of fun.
Maybe a bit of making out
for old times' sake.
No strings. Or pressure.
That's all.
It, it really is fine.
Okay.
Good bye then.
Okay. Okay. Bye.
Kathy? Are you awake?
I did get a little spooked.
I'm sorry to bother you.
But you said to knock, so...
Kathy?
Kathy? Are you Okay?
Kathy? Kathy?
Shit.
Kathy.
Kathy.
Shit.
- What the...
- Good job.
Think she's fine.
Yeah. Yeah she is.
- I'll...
- Why am I wet?
What's that in my ear?
I was worried
you were a bit... dead.
I thought, God, not you too.
That was quite a night cap.
How many have you taken?
What are you doing here?
Couldn't sleep.
Kept thinking about the head.
Tried to knock,
but there was no answer.
You should try
Diazepam and whisky.
It's a good combo.
You couldn't sleep either?
Just a little bit
of hyperventilation.
My friend erm...
- Pia?
- Pia,
Pia's got a new sweetie.
And she's not me and
I'm an old sweetie.
An old,
old sweetie.
Hey, you.
Oh my God, how are you feeling?
I hope you had breakfast.
You need protein
after that kind of night.
Eggs, particularly,
are like a panacea...
You need your waders.
Quick as you can. We've got a lot to do.
- Sarah.
- I might have something for you.
Ah, music to my ears.
I've been testing the residue
on the curved glass fragments
from the jar
containing the bomb.
Some of it came back
as traces of potassium chlorate.
Some were condom.
But there was another mark.
- Go on.
- It's ink.
- Black ink.
- What?
It's the same kind of ink
as was used on the black pill
- and to write hashtag one.
- It's incredible.
- I'll keep you posted.
- Brilliant.
Oh, er,
some good news.
Er, Azra's on board.
The case. Er, she's taking over
all the data analysis. Officially.
Be working with us.
That's great. That's...
That's great. Azra. Of course.
Just what you need.
Still missing. Number one.
Torso. Then, hips
and all of the upper limbs.
Why are they always males?
Who go missing out here?
Women start low
and work their way up.
Men start high.
Full of expectation and promise.
But there's only one way to go.
It's just how it is.
Easy.
Let's go find
where the landslide started.
Don't touch anything.
You think
this has something to do with...
Yeah. Well, the growth
around the tent kind of makes sense.
Obviously, the water levels
would have been much higher,
so if the body went in here,
it would have travelled
downstream and eventually
reached the loch.
Let's keep going downstream.
We pretty much know
what the timeline is here. Safi.
Father Nkusi has had his
fair share of hate messages.
Listen to this.
"I'm no Ladybird".
That's the username.
"I don't want no Google
in my community centre".
It's a thing.
You know trolls replace
offensive languages
Common words
to bypass the blocking.
It's abusive code.
Lady Bird Johnson
was Lyndon Johnson's wife.
She discouraged
the use of the N-word.
Campaigned for the end
of segregation. So...
- "I'm no Ladybird". Christ.
- Yeah.
"I'm not in favour
of civil rights". Basically.
Hey, look at this.
This looks the same as the one
sent to the Dundee Times.
Go and get the Super. Look.
Look.
Same handwriting as the first
on the envelope.
But look at the letter.
The writing's
completely different.
This isn't a lone bomber.
- So, we're back to a group?
- Maybe.
- Dundee Times got anything?
- They said not.
No. So, this one's just for us.
Pages this time.
Full of racist vitriol.
Eugenics.
Purity of white skin.
Get this tested.
Rush it through.
Tell our lab not
to not to drench it
in ninhydrin this time.
Then we can get it over to Sarah
for ink analysis
Boss.
Get Charlie.
There we have it.
Hash tag two's
written on the bomb
The bomber's telling us
it's a campaign.
There's going to be
a third bomb.
Safi?
So apparently
the police are being helped out
by some top scientists at SIFA.
The Scottish Institute
for Forensics, or whatever.
And they are still
getting no where
finding out who is behind
these two bombs in Dundee.
Guys, what is going on here?
How hard can it be?
Folk's, I'd love to get
your thoughts on this.
You know the numbers,
you know the socials.
You have got my email.
Please let us know
your thoughts,
this show is about you.
Because chemistry tends to be
very male-dominated,
we as female professors
of forensic science,
we're out
on a strange group anyway.
I mean, I'm considered
one of those funny people
that blows things up
and sets fire to things
and works with drugs,
and female as well.
So, which head owns the feet?
No idea. Mortuary day
will sort that out.
Hey, I don't mind,
talking some more, you know.
What?
We're not at work now.
You and Pia.
I'm happy
to be a sounding board.
It must have been a real shock.
You know.
If she was special.
I was very tired last night.
It was a long day.
Nothing else to say.
Thank you. I had a good time.
It was lively.
Even by my standards.
Want to come in?
A drink? Coffee?
I'm late picking up my dogs.
I'll see you tomorrow, Erika.
Boss? That was the lab.
We've got DNA from the envelope
of the second letter
and a name and address.
Yes! Come on.
Anthony Gemmell.
Arrested in 2018
for putting stickers
around Dundee, saying
"Diversity is White Genocide".
Went to court but got off.
Was convicted again
for spitting on a police woman
at an alt-right march in 2019.
Great.
Gemmell is retired.
Used to manage
an electrical showroom.
His wife,
Valerie was a Latin teacher,
now also retired.
Nothing.
Back door.
Thanks,
just going to see Jo.
Out you go.
Cheers.
Hey Kitty, where are you?
Hurry up.
by the Dundee Times
to publish the letter
is seen by some as surprising,
given the extreme
racist content.
But the newspaper insists
that showing the...
Everyone is talking
about the letter in the paper.
"Let us have a dagger
between our teeth,
a bomb in our hands
and an infinite scorn
in our hearts.
For we are pure.
And they are not."
- Please.
- I think he's left-handed.
- Who?
- The bomber.
Memes all over TikTok about it.
Can I have a lift, Mum?
You'll be ridiculously early.
What's wrong with the bus?
I don't know
how to say this.
But I won't be in today.
Or tomorrow.
I've left Dundee.
♪♪ Baby, do you
understand me now
*TRACES*
Season 02 Episode 03
♪♪ Sometimes I feel
a little mad
♪♪ But don't you know that no one alive
can always be an angel
♪♪ When things go wrong
I seem to be bad
♪♪ Oh, I'm just a soul
whose intentions are good
♪♪ Oh Lord, please don't let me
be misunderstood♪♪
Episode Title: "Episode 03"
Aired on: March 01, 2022.
Emergency summit.
Sarah's office. Now.
What?
Emma's emigrated to love island
and Sarah's losing her shit.
Bring whatever food you have.
Oh, parcel for you.
They look like new pillows.
How do you do that?
Years of staring.
- Did you call her?
- No.
She asked me to keep
her lab coat for her!
I mean, who does she think
she is?
Some research director
on sabbatical?
"Oh! I've just got to go
and find myself for a few weeks,
so I won't be in. Oh, PS.
Can I just stroll back in
whenever I fancy?"
I'm a little bit surprised,
I have to say.
- I'm furious.
- Look, she's young.
They do whatever the hell
they want.
Life doesn't work like that.
For young people
it sort of does.
I have supported her
throughout this whole thing.
- You have.
- Every step of it.
So, maybe she assumed
you'd get it.
Sarah, Phil MacAfee walked out
of that court room.
He walked out into the city
where she lives.
The man who murdered her mother.
So. She's scared. She's angry.
She bolts.
You can't just run away.
She wasn't thinking straight.
Who is thinking straight?
You alright?
Yeah.
Sweet tea
and luckily for all,
I've brought
some of my scones today.
More now that Emma's gone.
Bad news, good news.
I've got to go.
I've got a scene
out at Loch Lee. Body parts.
No peace for the wicked.
I think it's "no rest"
Wrong. The original,
biblical version is "no peace".
Right.
Kathy, could you run me up
a "Time Allocation Survey"?
- For?
- Me.
So, I can see how you allocate
your professional time.
Say, the week starting
the seventh?
Thanks!
As you were.
- It's just a form.
- No, it's not.
Just breathe. Think of Friday.
You're gonna to be back in time
for your house guest?
That is my intention.
She's got
new pillows.
What size shoe are you?
- Sorry?
- Your first field trip.
We need to find you some waders.
A jaw bone's washed up
out in the sticks.
It's perfect timing
for the study.
I'll pick you up
after the strategy meeting.
Oh, and pack your toothbrush.
It's gonna be an overnight.
No more. 'Cause I've got to be
back, so...
She's scared. She does a runner.
No,
I reckon Phil Macafee
is only got six months
as a free man.
He's got lucky once,
he's still got
the Culp Hom trial to go.
Fiscal says he's got no chance
with that.
I'm just stunned about Emma.
I just feel really
quite toppled by it.
I need to have a word
with myself.
No,
I totally get it.
It hurts.
You were there for her.
So were you.
Yeah.
So, this letter.
You might be lucky.
Get something back from the lab.
DNA? Prints?
Yeah. We're all over it. Yeah...
Kitty recons the author
might be left-handed.
- Your daughter?
- Yeah.
It's all over Twitter.
Or TikTok.
Screen time is way longer
than her sleeping hours.
I'll get that black pill result
to you later today.
Great. Thanks.
Sarah,
about Emma.
She was lucky.
To have you.
Oh, Aye. Dundee Times
are spouting some bullshit
about moral responsibility
to print.
Never mind that far righters
will be retweeting that shit
till Kingdom come.
Apparently some of it's
a Mussolini quote.
The whole thing is a car crash.
He's made us look like clowns.
We don't know the author
of that letter is the bomber.
We don't know it's not.
Still nothing from the lab?
Results any time.
Counter terrorism
are taking apart
the language used in the letter.
They're looking at racist cells.
Alt-right chat rooms.
Recent threats.
Is it from an individual
or a group?
Where are we with Dundeats?
Doesn't physically exist.
No face. No voice.
No contact number. No address.
The whole Dundeats thing
is virtually an algorithm.
So, I finally got through
to a guy
at a call centre in,
well, somewhere,
who could tell me which riders
worked in the area on Sunday
but wouldn't he hand over
the names.
Said the information
was classified.
Oh, please.
So, he's contacting the riders
and they have to,
get this, voluntarily,
come to us.
Great. Now they can
prepare themselves.
Hoover up any gunpowder
lying around
in their Dundeats box.
We need to go to them.
Get out there.
We need to speak
to those riders today.
We need to find out
who collected or delivered food
near the bomb locations.
How long have they worked
for Dundeats.
And did any of them know
Kim and Tam?
Any word on their status?
Legal. Papers are good.
Any family here?
Just each other.
They were friends.
Just friends but good friends.
They grew up
in a children's home in Vietnam,
then moved over here.
No enemies.
That they knew of.
Some of their clients
have written
on the salon's Facebook page.
Nothing but praise.
Wow.
Have you never been out here?
Never been out of the city.
God. I would go insane
if I didn't get out.
You don't live in Dundee?
Outside. In the middle
of nowhere.
Two dogs. No people. Heaven.
- On your own?
- Yup.
- Don't you get lonely?
- No.
It's all I know.
My parents were farmers.
Not entirely by choice.
How do you mean?
It was a mixed race marriage
in Edmonton in the seventies.
Hey, grab my laptop.
We need to prep.
Okay, we wave 'em down.
Flag them.
Do whatever we can
without getting run over.
Keep it light, friendly.
We need these riders to open up.
- Hello again.
- Hey.
The contents of the black pill
confirmed as Prazodone.
It's an atypical antidepressant,
- branded as Serapaxin.
- Brilliant.
Well we'll see if we can get
a warrant.
See who's being prescribed it.
Thank you.
And, I had a thought about CCTV.
Have a look at every
bit of footage you have.
After the bomb.
Police footage.
News footage. Everything.
Spree bombers sometimes come back
to the scene.
- Revel in their work.
- Okay.
That's great. Thank you.
No problem.
See, see you, then.
Yup. Bye.
All of them? Missing?
One of them is 16 I think.
Yeah. 16.
Missing for eight months.
- So weird.
- Happens.
Young men usually,
go missing every year, up here.
They take off into the wilds.
Proving something or
getting away from something.
Don't know the land.
Get into trouble, drink or
slip and fall into a loch.
And with every one
of those photos
- comes a family just climbing the walls.
- God.
I know. It's devastating.
But what I've learned is,
identifying those remains
gives a family so much.
It's an opportunity
to know what happened,
and to lay someone
they love to rest.
That's what we do.
We allow that family to move on.
In some sense.
Afternoon, Charlie.
Over here.
There you go.
So. Easily disarticulated
from the head
if submerged in the water
for a few months.
The structure of the jaw means
it can easily be caught on a root
or low-hanging tree.
Commonly the first part
of a disarticulated body to wash up.
Why is that useful?
- Dental records?
- Good.
This goes straight
to the odontologist.
We may find an immediate match
which'll save
a lot of mortuary time.
Charlie, can we get this
photographed and sent off
- to dental, please?
- Sure thing.
You're in charge
of logging all other body parts.
So, when you find
something, don't pick it up.
Let me do that.
You flag it, measure it, log it,
photograph it
and leave it in situ. Okay?
Trust me. You'll be fine.
Easy for you to say.
This came back from pathology.
Fragments found
in one of the victims.
This is mostly shop window.
The glass is thick.
Straight. Flat.
And these bits
could be from the glass jar,
that contained the bomb.
Curved, thinner.
These pieces were found
between the planter
and the shop window,
so it's possible.
But how do we prove
that this is the actual glass jar
that contained the bomb?
Because that's what a jury needs to see.
They need to see the actual jar.
There's something here.
What's that?
- Not sure.
- Come on.
- Metacarpal.
- Good. Which?
- Don't know.
- That is the third.
Now we look for more.
Okay, I want
their contact details,
I want a photograph of them
and their bikes
And most importantly,
I want to see their reaction
when they see that picture.
No idea.
Nobody recognises
a Dundeats rider.
We all work for everyone.
Dundeats, Chowcart, Deliverdish.
They don't offer any help.
We're not human. We're robots.
I was hit by a car.
- You ring riders' support.
- Half an hour online training...
First question they ask is,
"How is the food? Is the food okay?"
People deal drugs
out of these boxes.
Just because someone has
a Dundeats box on their back,
doesn't mean they're doing
a delivery for Dundeats.
I blacked out my box.
They don't give a shit about me.
So, I'm not going to promote
their company name. No way.
The only reason
you make that call is to keep your job
Can I get some help
over here please?
Here.
What?
I take it all back.
It's not just a lost kid.
Dismembered?
We'll get everything
back to the mortuary and see.
One thing I would say,
if this body went in whole,
this is how it would behave.
But there's still that rope
around those ankles so...
- Suspicious until proved otherwise.
- Yup.
Okay. I'll hold off
on divers for now
and then I'll call the
fiscal and the pathologist.
Great.
So, this is a murder now?
Not necessarily.
But there's rope
around the feet.
Okay. So, obviously a rope
around ankles is not accidental.
But it is not for us
to hypothesize or judge.
Come on. Back to it.
Come and look.
Black on the glass.
I've cleaned away the blood,
leaving two different blacks.
Two layers.
Firstly, we have a thin line
of incinerated condom.
Indistinguishable from the latex rim
we found with the lid.
We also have potassium chlorate
residue from the bomb itself.
Not much left because
everything burns
so hot and fast.
But... Look...
There's another layer.
A third layer of black.
Ink?
Tell the sorters to look for
other pieces of curved glass
like this.
With bits of black.
Well, that gave us nothing.
I mean, a whole lot of nothing,
but still nothing.
- Apart from some deeply unhappy riders.
- Aye.
So, we've got a suspect
that wears a uniform that opens doors
wherever they go.
Who no one recognises.
Kathy?
Hey, look at you.
What are you thinking?
I need to measure but
it looks the same length
as the other one to me.
Okay.
Which might mean?
Go on.
From the other hand?
To be confirmed but good.
Wait... There's something else.
- Oh, my God.
- It's okay. Take a minute.
Stay with me
and think about this, okay.
This is good.
The head has a missing jawbone.
And we already have that.
This is great progress.
This is the best part of the job.
Not the worst. I promise.
Those riders.
They were angry.
What you thinking?
Could be fuelling
something?
A motive?
Right,
what have we got?
Well, we now know that
just because a rider
has a Dundeats box on their back,
doesn't mean
he works for Dundeats.
So, now we need a list of every
food delivery rider
in the vicinity of that nail bar
an hour before
that bomb went off.
We've just tripled our suspects.
So, we got a warrant
for the list of patients
on your anti-depressant,
Prazodone.
Please, God.
Tell me it's a short list.
Nine thousand and fourteen.
What?
Prazodone's supposed to be
atypical.
Compared to your
bog-standard antidepressant,
- it is.
- Nine thousand?
And 14.
How are we supposed to wade
through this? And fast?
And comparing these names
to what?
We're supposed to be coming up
with a profile here,
not staring into the abyss.
- Results back from the lab.
- Finally.
No prints or DNA on the letter.
- What? Nothing?
- Sorry.
Christ.
How can there be nothing?
Because somebody knows
what they're doing.
It's ruined, isn't it?
There's always a chance.
Once you test for DNA or prints
with a bit of ninhydrin.
Your lab has been
pretty thorough.
There isn't a single stroke of
ink that hasn't been drenched
in the stuff.
I can't do any ink analysis
or ink comparisons
on this letter.
Sorry.
Oh. Great.
Have you got five minutes?
I just want to show you
something.
Sure.
Come on. You look like
you need a drink.
So, the eyewitnesses,
outside the nail bar,
what they described,
I thought we could see it
for ourselves.
Wait for it.
How's it going?
I'm just drowning in this stuff.
Just...
getting nowhere.
Have you asked for help?
Yeah, but we know
what that means.
Not this time.
What?
You got me.
Da-dah! I am your new master
of data.
You made
the request.
And you got the best.
That's why I'm here.
Wow.
- Really?
- Yes, really.
That's great news.
Brilliant. Wow.
Yay!
So, what about flooding?
Recent flooding?
According to
this local fishing forum,
the levels have remained
the same.
Oh. Wait.
Let me check something.
There was a landslide up top.
Just there.
Above the loch. Near the falls.
The path was blocked
for a few days.
Fishermen loved it.
No walkers for days.
That is good.
The landslide may have caused
floating body parts to move
from A to B.
Okay, I'm turning in.
Er...
It's a big deal.
Your first day in the field.
It's a lot. To see.
And these things have a habit
of creeping up on you.
So, just so you know,
the support is out there.
Counselling. If you need.
And if you feel spooked later,
just give me a knock.
Thanks.
Okay.
Okay, you are not my
pre-arranged bootie call.
I'm sorry.
Just wanted to say hi.
How's it going?
Found a pair of feet. A head.
How about you?
Jeez.
I can't compete with that.
Oh, no need. How's bomb-land?
Fine. Bit scary.
Yeah. You okay?
Neil, okay?
Yep.
- Oh.
- No, it's just.
I wanted to ask you something.
Oh shit. Er, bootie-calling.
Got to go! Sorry!
Finally! God!
- Hey.
- Hey.
You look good.
So do you.
Oh, I wanted to be post-bath
for this call.
Glistening with skin product but
instead you have me in plaid
and smelling of whisky so.
It's okay.
You packed? Checked in yet?
No.
Oh. Living by
the seat of your pants.
- Kathy.
- Yeah?
I'm not coming on Friday.
What?
I went out last week.
On a date.
Which we said was allowed.
We did.
But...
- You had a nice time. With her.
- Yeah.
I did.
Oh fuck!
- I'm sorry.
- No, I mean, you
do what you want.
You sound...
I'm fine.
- It's okay.
- Is it?
Yeah. It was just a holiday.
Friends, hanging out.
Bit of fun.
Maybe a bit of making out
for old times' sake.
No strings. Or pressure.
That's all.
It, it really is fine.
Okay.
Good bye then.
Okay. Okay. Bye.
Kathy? Are you awake?
I did get a little spooked.
I'm sorry to bother you.
But you said to knock, so...
Kathy?
Kathy? Are you Okay?
Kathy? Kathy?
Shit.
Kathy.
Kathy.
Shit.
- What the...
- Good job.
Think she's fine.
Yeah. Yeah she is.
- I'll...
- Why am I wet?
What's that in my ear?
I was worried
you were a bit... dead.
I thought, God, not you too.
That was quite a night cap.
How many have you taken?
What are you doing here?
Couldn't sleep.
Kept thinking about the head.
Tried to knock,
but there was no answer.
You should try
Diazepam and whisky.
It's a good combo.
You couldn't sleep either?
Just a little bit
of hyperventilation.
My friend erm...
- Pia?
- Pia,
Pia's got a new sweetie.
And she's not me and
I'm an old sweetie.
An old,
old sweetie.
Hey, you.
Oh my God, how are you feeling?
I hope you had breakfast.
You need protein
after that kind of night.
Eggs, particularly,
are like a panacea...
You need your waders.
Quick as you can. We've got a lot to do.
- Sarah.
- I might have something for you.
Ah, music to my ears.
I've been testing the residue
on the curved glass fragments
from the jar
containing the bomb.
Some of it came back
as traces of potassium chlorate.
Some were condom.
But there was another mark.
- Go on.
- It's ink.
- Black ink.
- What?
It's the same kind of ink
as was used on the black pill
- and to write hashtag one.
- It's incredible.
- I'll keep you posted.
- Brilliant.
Oh, er,
some good news.
Er, Azra's on board.
The case. Er, she's taking over
all the data analysis. Officially.
Be working with us.
That's great. That's...
That's great. Azra. Of course.
Just what you need.
Still missing. Number one.
Torso. Then, hips
and all of the upper limbs.
Why are they always males?
Who go missing out here?
Women start low
and work their way up.
Men start high.
Full of expectation and promise.
But there's only one way to go.
It's just how it is.
Easy.
Let's go find
where the landslide started.
Don't touch anything.
You think
this has something to do with...
Yeah. Well, the growth
around the tent kind of makes sense.
Obviously, the water levels
would have been much higher,
so if the body went in here,
it would have travelled
downstream and eventually
reached the loch.
Let's keep going downstream.
We pretty much know
what the timeline is here. Safi.
Father Nkusi has had his
fair share of hate messages.
Listen to this.
"I'm no Ladybird".
That's the username.
"I don't want no Google
in my community centre".
It's a thing.
You know trolls replace
offensive languages
Common words
to bypass the blocking.
It's abusive code.
Lady Bird Johnson
was Lyndon Johnson's wife.
She discouraged
the use of the N-word.
Campaigned for the end
of segregation. So...
- "I'm no Ladybird". Christ.
- Yeah.
"I'm not in favour
of civil rights". Basically.
Hey, look at this.
This looks the same as the one
sent to the Dundee Times.
Go and get the Super. Look.
Look.
Same handwriting as the first
on the envelope.
But look at the letter.
The writing's
completely different.
This isn't a lone bomber.
- So, we're back to a group?
- Maybe.
- Dundee Times got anything?
- They said not.
No. So, this one's just for us.
Pages this time.
Full of racist vitriol.
Eugenics.
Purity of white skin.
Get this tested.
Rush it through.
Tell our lab not
to not to drench it
in ninhydrin this time.
Then we can get it over to Sarah
for ink analysis
Boss.
Get Charlie.
There we have it.
Hash tag two's
written on the bomb
The bomber's telling us
it's a campaign.
There's going to be
a third bomb.
Safi?
So apparently
the police are being helped out
by some top scientists at SIFA.
The Scottish Institute
for Forensics, or whatever.
And they are still
getting no where
finding out who is behind
these two bombs in Dundee.
Guys, what is going on here?
How hard can it be?
Folk's, I'd love to get
your thoughts on this.
You know the numbers,
you know the socials.
You have got my email.
Please let us know
your thoughts,
this show is about you.
Because chemistry tends to be
very male-dominated,
we as female professors
of forensic science,
we're out
on a strange group anyway.
I mean, I'm considered
one of those funny people
that blows things up
and sets fire to things
and works with drugs,
and female as well.
So, which head owns the feet?
No idea. Mortuary day
will sort that out.
Hey, I don't mind,
talking some more, you know.
What?
We're not at work now.
You and Pia.
I'm happy
to be a sounding board.
It must have been a real shock.
You know.
If she was special.
I was very tired last night.
It was a long day.
Nothing else to say.
Thank you. I had a good time.
It was lively.
Even by my standards.
Want to come in?
A drink? Coffee?
I'm late picking up my dogs.
I'll see you tomorrow, Erika.
Boss? That was the lab.
We've got DNA from the envelope
of the second letter
and a name and address.
Yes! Come on.
Anthony Gemmell.
Arrested in 2018
for putting stickers
around Dundee, saying
"Diversity is White Genocide".
Went to court but got off.
Was convicted again
for spitting on a police woman
at an alt-right march in 2019.
Great.
Gemmell is retired.
Used to manage
an electrical showroom.
His wife,
Valerie was a Latin teacher,
now also retired.
Nothing.
Back door.
Thanks,
just going to see Jo.
Out you go.
Cheers.
Hey Kitty, where are you?
Hurry up.