Waking the Dead (2000–…): Season 5, Episode 5 - Subterraneans: Part 1 - full transcript

A millionaire businessman is found dead one year after he disappeared. The team discover that he has been kept prisoner in an underground cellar but the kidnapper made no ransom demands. On first look it appears that the victim committed suicide with pills. However, questions are raised when another male body is found in the same cellar but appears to have been brutally murdered some years earlier, presumably by his kidnapper. Retracing the steps of the two men leads the team to an unlikely suspect. The team know they have their man - now all they have to do is prove it. As they collect the damning evidence, their suspect disappears and shortly afterwards, so does his wife. The team realise that the murders took place in order to prevent the truth of the killer's secret life from reaching his wife. In a bid to prevent her being hurt by the revelations, the killer is going to kill his wife.

'Mary!'

POLICE RADIO:
'Just to confirm location,
the old cement works near Dagenham.

'Negative.
We have sufficient manpower. '

ECHOES OF SCREAMING

Sir.

You're late. Sorry.

What have we got?

Demolition workers found the body -
male, decomposed but not skeletal.

And it's a cold case because?
We got a probable ID from a wallet.

Why didn't you say so? You were a
little busy when I called.

Devotion to duty's
a very sexy thing, Spence.



You just shouldn't do it on your own.
Who is it? Michael Sharman.

Michael Sharman?

It's down here.

'Mary! Mary!'

Weren't National Crime Squad
on that?

They wound it up
last month after a year.

Got nowhere, but spent a fortune.

MUFFLED CRIES

Watch where you're standing.
Yeah, OK.

Poor bastard.
Can you get that covered?

Yeah, sure. Can I go over here?

Yes. Mind the clothes.

What's this?

We'll bag this, Felix, OK?



Where's the new girl?
She should be counting this.

The new girl's been here an hour.
37 days.

You've done it already? Yes.
37 days.

Without food and water, you'd last,
what, four or five? Max.

He had pineapple juice
and cheese slices.

Pineapple juice?
He also had a torch and a pack of
batteries, but they were never used.

Maybe our kidnapper had a heart of
gold. Not with that choice of food.

You want the ransom, keep the
hostage in one piece.
None was demanded.

The dry atmosphere and
through-draught
prevented decomposition

and caused partial mummification.

Also a shallow head-wound. . .

And the rest? Give me a chance.

No, it's OK, I was just. . .

Why are the shoes
and the socks on the hands?

Well, it's behaviour consistent
with the victims of incarceration.

You think your hands are your feet?
No.

When dehydration sets in, there's
this frenzied attempt to escape.

That's when he'll have
torn his clothes off.

ECHOES OF SCREAMING

'Mary!'

Why would you take your clothes off?
He'd have felt confined by them.

When the frenzy passes,

there's this overwhelming
need for comfort and painlessness.

The flesh on his finger tips
is worn to the bone.

Look, you see?

His hands will have hurt,
so he needed to cover them.

With his shoes? With anything.

SCREAMING

Look at this.

Looks like he tried
to hack his way out.

It's resourceful,
but what a waste of time.

Poor man. You'd try anything to get
out of here, wouldn't you?

ECHOES OF SCREAMING

He must have gone insane.

ECHOES OF SCREAMING

The cheese slices had sell-by-date
March 20th and March 31st. . .

. .suggesting that the killer
returned at least twice

to replenish supplies.

I need the files from NCS.

They're being biked over.
Good, and contacts for Mrs Sharman,

I want her to hear
about this from us.

Home address and phone number.

Oh! Thank you. You're on fire today.

New girl anxious to impress.

Give it six months
and I'll be pissed off like you.

I was not pissed off. She put you
in your place there, Spence.

Oh yeah, right. In your dreams.
Are you all right?

Yeah, I need a day to process
and I need more lamps and people.

That's fine. Just do the autopsy.
What's the urgency?

The guy that did this
to Sharman's still breathing,

but if you want more I can give
it to you. Fine. Fine. Thank you.

The first of the National
Crime Squad files.

Sir. . .

Mrs Sharman.

Thanks for coming.

Have you ever been there?

Not to my knowledge.
Maybe driven through, I don't know.

What about your husband?
Did he know anyone from that area?

He had lots of relationships
I didn't know about.

I met Mike when he was 18
and had nothing.

I knew right there what he was,

and decided I loved him
enough to deal with it.

Money changed him. He worried more.

He called it the itch.

How did that manifest itself?

He started doing charity work.

He even became a governor for the
primary school where our kids go.

Your kids. . .go to state school?

"It was good enough for us,"
was Mike's philosophy.

Our philosophy.

Don't you have fingerprints? DNA?

I'm sorry. Mrs Sharman, we're
just starting our investigation.

Could it have been an accident?

Somebody locked him in there.

Why didn't they ask for money?
I don't know.

I would have given them everything.
I'm sure you would have.

I want to see him.

MRS SHARMAN GASPS

'Mary!'

Mary!

Did he suffer? It's too early
to determine the cause of death.

You're trying
to spare me the details.

I want to know how he died.

Mrs Sharman, we're
not in a position. . .

What am I supposed to tell my kids?

How am I supposed to explain this?

You find the person who did this,

you make them explain,

and don't you dare tell me
you'll try your best.

I'll find them.

What's this? It's Michael.

Ahmed, look. . .

Me, me, me, here.

Yes, it's always about you.

Kids, quiet. OK, now.

'Here goes.

'Whatever, whenever -
that's our philosophy.

'If you missed EastEnders on Monday,

'or you fancy watching The Exorcist
at 7.45 in the morning. . .

'But nobody watches. . . !

'I know. Well, some people
fancy watching the Exorcist at 7.45.

'Some people who are nuts,
that's who. Right, here goes. '

'Whatever, whenever -
that's our philosophy.

'If you missed EastEnders on Monday,

'or you fancy watching The Exorcist
at 7.45 in the morning. . . '

'OK. . . Some people are nuts!'

'OK. Are you ready? Good.

'Whatever. . . '

NCS confirm the kidnapper never made
contact, even though Sharman
was worth 3.5 million.

Why was Sharman kept alive
if it wasn't for money?
That is the question.

He was a very rich and
successful businessman.
Yes, he would've had of enemies.

None NCS took seriously.

We can go back and re-interview
his old contacts.

We'd end up spending a fortune.

We're cheaper than the NCS, Spence.

OK. Stella?

March 1st 2004, the last documented
movement of Michael Sharman.
I can't see with that glass board.

This is the exit road
off Heathrow Terminal One.

Where'd he been? A TV festival.
That's how he made his money.

After he left,
he headed for home near Guildford.

Was he picked up on any cameras?

Would have if he'd taken the A3
as normal. According to who?

According to his wife.

Is that in the file? Yes.
So, what happened?

The sat-nav in his car told him it
was busy, so he took the back roads.

That's a clever sat-nav. His car
was found on a lay-by of the. . . B142.

No collision damage,

no trace evidence except for a piece
of glass. Scratch-resistant glass.

OK, scratch-resistant glass.

But that could've been put
there at anytime, right?

A witness saw a grey estate car -
make unknown -

parked behind Sharman's car,
but it was never traced.

OK, Stella. Trace it.

I had an exciting night.

Mummification
made this tough to spot,

but under lights you can make out
large areas of bruising.

So he was beaten?

Well, I considered that,

but I opened up the bowel and found
evidence of portal hypertension.

Portal,
that's to do with the liver? Yeah.

The portal vein carries blood
from the bowel to the liver.

If it gets blocked, the vessels
can rupture in the stomach,

causing a catastrophic
and torrential bleed.

He died from liver failure?
Well, low clotting factors
certainly explain the bruising.

Now, I also found a pool
of dried vomit next to his body.

What are the white bits?
Pills. Pills?

Yep, toxicology will take a week,

but I wouldn't bet
against paracetamol.

He swallowed the pills,
then he was sick,

or made himself sick
cos he had second thoughts?

That's possible.

So he could've been alive
for longer than 37 days,

he just wasn't able
to keep the tally going,

chalk it up on the wall?

ECHOES OF SHOUTING

Not many yellow bits in there.

You know, I also found particles
of glass in his healed head wound,

and this was the glass
that was recovered. . .

From the lay-by, yeah.
I know about that.

. .and the torch that Stella
recovered from the cement factory.

Right, don't tell me. . . It fits?

Voila.

And electron microscopy confirms
that it's the same glass

from his head wound.

So, it's possible that this torch. . .
belonged to the kidnapper?

Hey!

Wait!

Excuse me.

Do you live near here? No.

So, what are you doing around here?

Walking.

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

Stella, yeah.
I'm over here, to your left. OK.

Come on, Grace. What are we dealing
with, a front rack sadist or what?

I'm paid for informed views,
not hunches.

Well, give me an informed view
of the paracetamol.

Oh, OK. I believe that Sharman
was given the option to kill
himself.

Why? Well, either
to be cruel or to be kind.

What a choice -
to perpetuate a living hell or die?

That's the cruel explanation. I'm
racking my brains for the kind one.

To put him out of his misery.
I think that's a perversely
favourable interpretation.

You think that's perverse?

This is the victim's profile,
and it includes his
favourite food and drink.

Pineapple juice? And cheese slices.

We found remnants
of those at the scene.

Yeah, finding out Sharman's
favourite food and drink

shows a grotesque desire
to compensate.

That's the Stockholm Syndrome
in reverse.

Yeah, it's grotesque.

The Eldritch cement works
wasn't always that isolated.

Until '98 there was
a mental hospital nearby.

It was pulled down in 2001.
What's your point?

A list of patients and staff
could be useful.

Don't see how. Sorry,
am I annoying you? Annoying me?

Funny, I thought it was Boyd who'd
resisted replacing Mel.
This has got nothing to do with Mel.

So you just don't like me, right?

Look, I've just got some stuff
on the home front, all right?

What, you got binned
by your girlfriend?

Er. . .excuse me,
the other way around!

Well, sorry and all. . .

but it's not my fault,
and it's definitely not a
reason for snapping at me.

Cool.

Anyway,
after the hospital closed,

some of the former
patients stayed living there.

No food, no heating, no nothing.

Health authority
was so struck with guilt,

they came
and flattened the place.

Oh, my God. Not another one.

Did you make sure there weren't
any more bodies?

We were adamant and progressed
with the autopsy last night.

It frustrates me that I can't be in
two places at the same time,
much as I'd like to be.

OK, he's male, as you can see,
between 20 and 40 years old.

And judging by size 44 trousers
and an extra-large T-shirt,

significantly overweight.

Cause of death,
blows to the skull times six,

any one of which was
hard enough to kill.

An additional blow
resulted in a broken nose.

At some point he broke his left
wrist, but that's an old injury.

Wherever he was killed,

there would've been a lake
of blood and soft tissue.

God. So Sharman gets loo roll
and food and drink of his choice,

and this guy gets
killed six times over.

Right, Sharman was the lucky one( !)

I'm saying the difference in the way
they died could be instructive.

Yeah, the majority of blunt force
killings aren't premeditated.

What else, Felix?

OK.
I found a key in his jacket pocket.

It looks like it opens a house, but
the fob reads something "Motors",

and there's a number on the back.

Ok, all right, thank you. Grace?

So, he's killed twice. Do you think
he's going to do it a third time?

Huh, your guess is as good as mine.

It's the difference in the MOs
that's frightening.

Right now, the signature flourishes
of a serial killer

would be comforting.

Nothing you can profile?

No. . .

but the lengths he went
to suggest he had a plan.

'Let me out, let me out!'

We stopped doing leather fobs
three years ago.

Hard plastic ones only now.

When you did these leather fobs,
who were they available to?

People who bought or rented cars.
Customers. A lot of people.

Mr Barnes, do you remember any
customers who went missing?

Wait a minute.
How many cars do you sell a year?

1,750. 1,750. Is that new cars?

Yep. So over three years
we're talking about 6, 000 cars?

That's a long shot.
It's worth trying. Good luck to you.

Would you remember, Mr Barnes,
a man between his 20s and 40s,
overweight, darkish coloured hair?

Yes, Russell.

6, 000 customers, and you remember
a name just like that?

Russell wasn't a customer.
He used to work here.

Have you found him?

How well did you know him?

We were born the same week,
we lived in the same street.

This might sound
like an odd question,

but do you know if Russell
ever broke any bones?

Yes, his wrist when he was a kid.

His dad did it.

It is Russell, isn't it?

I think there's a good chance
that it is, yes.

How was he killed?
We can't divulge that.

Have you spoken to his dad yet?

His dad used to beat him and his
mum, and the police did nothing.

So you were very close?
Yeah, we were best mates.

I'm nothing special,

but I used to get a lot of hassle
from the blokes at school.

And Russell was your protector?

He had a mouth on him.

He had to. Everyone used to call
him lard-arse when he was a kid.

And when he went missing,
did you report it to the police?

No. No, because I didn't know
he'd gone missing until later.

I had to let Russell go
in early 2000.

He wasn't happy being mates anymore.

He was making Tina's
life intolerable.

I didn't want him
to lose his job though.

I called him up that
Christmas to try and patch it up.

I spoke to his mum, Miriam.

She said that he'd moved
out six months before,

and that she'd not seen him since.

Did she mention
contacting the police?

She mentioned that they weren't
trying very hard to find him. Hey. . .

A fat kid, no job who'd once had a
half-arsed go at topping himself. . .

You're sure it's Russell?

We've matched his DNA to the hair
sample in the missing persons file.

When did you last see your son?

He left home on the 20th of April.

Where did he go? I don't know.

I threw him out.

I was sick of him pining for her,
after she'd lost him his job.

You mean Tina in the showroom?

That bitch wouldn't
have got that job without him.

I told him,
" As if she's ever gonna see you

"as anything more
than a shoulder to cry on,"

but he wouldn't listen.

Erm. . . is there a Mr Tate, Miriam?

John walked out
when Russell was little.

He only ever came back
for two things.

Money and sex,

both of which he'd take
whether they were on offer or not.

Your husband raped you?

I always tried
to keep quiet for Russell.

But then, one night
John was so drunk. . .

LOUD STRUGGLING

'Dad, get off her! Get off her!

'Dad!

'I'm sorry, Dad!
You're sorry? Don't hit me!'

A few days later,

I came home and there were
all new locks and an alarm -

a proper one to the police station.

Russell had been saving up the money
from his paper-round for a computer,

and he'd spent it making us safe.

Does this key fit those locks?

When you kicked him out,
didn't you wonder where he would go?

I was trying to bring him
to his senses.

'Mary!'

TV: 'And now a special
South East News report

'highlighting public concerns
raised by Care In The Community. '

'When successive governments

'closed down mental hospitals
across the country,

'the plan was that patients would
be assimilated into society

'via so-called Care In The Community.

'Today, we can see in the starkest
terms the ruins of that vision.

'Here in Dagenham, East London,

'the former patients
of Argyle Hospital

'continue to live in the shell
of the closed-down building

'where they were cared for
until last December. '

VIDEO SKIPS BACKWARDS

Hello again. Hi. No, no. Not you,
the guy on the screen. Who is it?

A former patient of Argyle Hospital.

I think he still lives near the
cement factory.

That's great. Do you have a name?

Dunno.

We've picked up Russell's father,
John Tate. What've you got?

Freelance truck driver.
Sounds like a right bastard.

Did 18 months for blinding
a prostitute in one eye.

18 months? ! I bet it was
because she was a prostitute.

Wait a minute! Hang on a second.
Don't personalise this, all right?

Stick to the facts.

Yes?

Sorry, sir. Thank you.

So, what does it say in the file?

CV says he's worked
in a number of haulage companies.

He's been a Heavy Goods Licence
driver for 20 years.

His main employment
was Samson Haulage.

Which is owned by. . .

Eldritch Cement.

What did you expect me to do?

Burst into tears?
That is a popular reaction

when we tell people
their child's been murdered.

When did you last see your son?

Dunno.
When he was about 16, I suppose.

You're positive that's
the very last time you saw him?

Yeah. Why's that?

In April 2000, he moved out
of his mother's and we haven't
established where he went.

But we do have a key,

and my guess is when
we find the door that that opens. . .

. .we'll know where he went.

Yep, let's go.

Hold on, let me try the key.

All right, he stayed on my settee
for a couple of weeks.

And after that?

He left. I suppose he went
back to his mother's. So what?

So, he didn't get there.

So, why did you lie under caution

and say you hadn't
seen him since he was 16?

"Cattypee Blacklight"?

Designed by a Milwaukee firm
to locate cat urine, blood, vomit,

but lighter, cheaper
and as effective

as the offically approved
equivalent.

Are you sure about the
"as effective" part?

Forensic tools are like haircuts.

No correlation
between outlay and result.

I can recommend a hairdresser.

It wasn't a cry for help.

Look mate, either charge me

for putting a roof over
my son's head or call me a cab.

Does the name Michael Sharman
mean anything to you?

Are you going to call me that cab?

Sit down, please.

Sit down.

SIRENS OUTSIDE

Bingo.

Told you they were good.

We found blood on a wall
in your flat.

If it belongs to your son,

we'll know in the next 24 hours.

Make sure you keep me posted.

I'll keep you posted. . .

you lying sack of shit.

Oh, God, Boyd.

You didn't just hit me, did you?
Did he?

Yes, I think he did.

I'd like to show you something.

Boyd! For God's sake!

This is your son.

'I'm sorry, Dad!

'I'll give you sorry! Don't hit
me again. Please. I'm sorry!'

Oh, no!

Did you do that to your son? No.

God, no.

We were getting on.
So, what happened?

I hit him.

I know I shouldn't have done,
but I hit him.

Which room were you in
when you hit him?

What have you got to say about this?
What? The phone bill, that's what.

Calls to mobiles, calls to New York.

Who do you know from New York?
I'm sorry.

Sorry? That's not getting the bill
paid, is it? Don't hit me, Dad.

I cleaned him up and I apologised.

Did you take him to the hospital?
No.

No, because you were on parole

after your conviction
for blinding a prostitute.

I did my time. You were still on
parole, you'd have gone back inside.

Russell didn't want
to go to hospital.

Not as much as you
didn't want him to go.

No, no, it wasn't like that.

He wasn't even angry.
I mean, he was apologising to ME.

Maybe he was just trying
to get the hell away from you?

Look, last thing he said to me was,

"It's not your fault, Dad,"
dead calm and composed,

like he knew it was someone
else's fault and he'd just realised.

I've got a feeling
he's telling the truth.

Me too. So let's not get snagged.

"Let's not get snagged"? Caught up.

Caught up.

Let's just charge him with assault
and obstruction, and move on.

OK.

And Boyd, don't ever
put me in that position again.

It's a theory that suggests
criminals

favour locations between their
anchor points. The RAT theory?

John Tate's phone summary.
OK, break it down.

Routine Activity Theory.

Right. Work, home,
significant others? Right.

Michael Sharman's abducted
south-west of the M25.

We follow the M25 eastwards
and we come to. . .

Ah, the cement works?

Just five miles inside, yes.

Then we follow the M25 up again. . .

. .and there is where Russell Tate
worked in the showroom,

just under a mile
from the junction of the M11-M25.

What you're saying is this person
uses the M25 as their familiar route,
either through work. . . Yeah.

It's geographically opposite
where these two men were, isn't it?

They're also socially opposite.
One is rich, married, popular.

The other single, friendless,
unemployed. Have you done that yet?

Yes. Calls to the International
Health Authority in New York,

and the UK office in Cambridgeshire.

And it also seems like
he didn't follow his mum's advice.

Because. . . ?

21 calls, Tina?

Yeah, it was after he was sacked.

He missed me, that's all.

You and Russell, you'd been friends
for a long time, is that right?

Right. So, what changed?

Why did he suddenly want
to become your boyfriend?

He was jealous.
Ah, of someone you were seeing?

I'd had lots of boyfriends
in the past.

Russ always had opinions about them.

This one was different.
Nick was older.

He was serious. We didn't actually
have an affair, we just talked.

So, Russell felt usurped?

Nick was married,
so the way Russ saw it,

he was protecting me
from getting hurt.

Ah, in the same way
that he protected his mother?

Yeah, but I didn't need protecting.

Nick was a good man.
He was a great man.

When I saw you at the car showroom,

and we talked about the death
of your best friend,

you never mentioned this man Nick
at all. Why was that?

You never asked.

How did you meet him? He came in to
test-drive a car, we just clicked.

I don't know, my mum had
just died and he just picked
up on it straight away.

I didn't think I
was showing anything.

Did you fall for him a little bit?

Yeah, a bit.

I think Russell always believed
we'd end up together

if he waited around long enough.

When he saw Nick, he knew
that was never going to happen.

If Nick and you were friends, Russell
was in no position to cause trouble?
No. Was he or wasn't he?

When you test-drive a car,

you're required to give
a home address

and a contact telephone number.
So, he did cause trouble?

He was going to tell Nick's wife
we were having an affair and he
bloody well knew we weren't.

What's Nick's last name?
Henderson. Dr Nick Henderson.

Dr Henderson,
International Health Authority?

Yeah, yeah. How did you know?

Where did he live?

Near Guildford.
I never went to his house.

I really want you to get
the bastards who killed Russell,

but this has nothing to do
with Nick.

We need that address.

Did I say that was delicious?

Three times. That was delicious.

CHILD: More, more, more!

I think we'd better go
and rescue Jonathan from your son.

Ah! You found me.

Aren't you going to kill me now?

What's going on here?

Adam, coat.

Well? Can't decide if it's easier
or harder, seeing yours.

So, she's definitely not
going to take you back then?

Makes everything feel so pointless,
especially work.

What about your beloved patients?

All right, I have some
affection for them, but hey,

it's not as if I'm going to
find a cure for SARS, like Nick.

Well, neither is Nick just yet,

though I am hoping for some
good news at our conference
in Vienna tomorrow.

OK, facetious comparison, but if
you do, you'll go down in history.

And no GP ever went down in history?
Only the ones
that kill their patients!

Well, that's what
you'll have to do, then.

You know, that's a fantastic idea!

Higher! More, more!

Would you be Dr Henderson?

Yes.
I'm Detective Superintendent Boyd.

This is my associate, Dr Foley.

Hello. Hello.

I have some ID,
if you'd like to see it?

No, no. That's fine.

Did you ever meet Michael Sharman?

Er. . . no, I didn't.

He lives just down
the road, doesn't he?

I didn't realise
until I read it in the newspapers.

What about Russell Tate,
Tina's friend?

This is really bad timing.
This is a murder inquiry, Doctor
Henderson, the timing is always bad.

Yes, I know. It's, er. . .

it's just that my wife's pregnant,
that's all. Congratulations.

Tina told us you were close,
but not physically?

That's the truth. So, what happened?

You went in to test
drive a car, then what?

Adam ! Please sit down.

We got on well and, er. . .

we were both at a bit of a low ebb.

Her mother had just passed away

and she was thinking
about going to college,

which I was encouraging her to do.
And you. . . ?

I'm a senior researcher at the
Northern European office of the
International Health Authority.

I have been since 1992.

Sorry, where's that? Cambridgeshire.

Oh, so that's just
a commute from here?

Yes, just round the M25.

Do you mind if I. . . ? No, of course.

Sorry, I interrupted you. Sorry.

The plug had just been pulled
on a series of AIDS trials

that I was overseeing and which were
just beginning to yield results.

I'm sure you've both experienced
the frustration of budget cuts?

Tell us about Russell Tate.

He was Tina's best friend.

He wasn't very comfortable
with our friendship.

He started calling me up,

threatening to tell my wife about
the affair that I wasn't having.

Why didn't you call his bluff?
People are allowed to have friends.

There was something else?

Tina had just sold
her mother's house,

and was looking to invest the money.

Now, because of my position
at the IHA,

I had the inside track
on certain investment opportunities.

"Inside track,"
as in insider dealing?

Well, actually the information
is in the public domain, but. . .

let's just say my superiors
wouldn't be very happy

that I was bringing it
to an outsider's attention.

Why did you?

Adam. . .

do me a favour
and go back to your bedroom. Oh!

How old? Seven years old.

The reason why. . .was because
I wanted to help a friend.

Ah, so Tina told Russell
about the investment offer

and he smelled leverage?

Yes, he told her that either
she'd go to jail

or she'd never see her money again.
What did he tell you?

To end my friendship with Tina,

or he'd bring my offer to the
attention of the IHA executive.

Was this threat made face-to-face
or on the phone? On the phone.

How did you take it?

Very seriously.

I withdrew the offer
and I never saw Tina again.

OK, thanks for your time.
My pleasure.

Can I just ask you, who is that?

Oh, that's me
with Professor George Rosenthal.

Ah yes, Nobel Prize winner?

That's right. He's my boss.

Really? Well, I'm impressed.

I need to know what you were doing

the night Michael Sharman
was abducted.

So if you could check,
it's March 1st 2004.

March 1st? Right, well I'll check
my diary, speak to my secretary.

OK, thank you.

Now, tomorrow I'm in Vienna
giving a lecture,

so apart from that,
I'll either be here or at my office.

I'll just give you my pager number.

Leave me a message, I'll get back
to you within the hour.

All right. Thank you.
Thank you. Right, bye.

I think he's a complete. . .

Oh!

Sorry. What day of the week was it
that Sharman went missing?

It was a Monday. Oh, then, I was. . .
I was, I was at my squash club.

Same partner, same day, same court
for the last 15 years.

OK, well I'll need to speak
to that partner at some point.

Well, actually, you've just missed
him, but it shan't be a problem.

OK, sorry.

Bye. Bye.

Julia, I promise nothing happened.

Stop saying that. It's the truth.

I believe you.

I'm just upset
that you felt the need
to talk to someone else about it.

You mentioned in passing that
the AIDS trials had been cancelled.

I'm sorry.

No, I should've picked up on it.

You're always so bloody modest
and reticent about your work.

It's one of the things
I used to love about you.

"Used to love about me"?

By the way. . .

. . I didn't mention
that you knew Sharman,

or that we bumped into him
that day in the high street.

Why not?

Well, they didn't ask
and so I let it go.

Well, what if they ask me,
or they find out?

I don't think either
eventuality's very likely.

All right.

LOUD STRUGGLING

Right, thank you.

Sir? Yeah.

Henderson and Dr Lynch
have played there every Monday

for as long as anyone remembers.
Shit! What?

His squash thing panned out.

Check his tax, DVLA, anything.

Anything you can get me
on Henderson, all right?

It's not often that I get
a hunch, is it, Grace?

You just don't like him
though, do you?

You're not asking me to personalise
this situation are you?

Sorry. I wouldn't dare, no.

You don't like him though, do you?

No. . . I don't.

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

DI Jordan. Oh, yeah.
Yeah, thanks for getting back.

Mm-hmm.

Gordon Christie?

Right.

Manslaughter?

You heard about Michael Sharman?

Yeah, they've found another
body in the same place.

The weirdest thing's just happened.

It's possible the police might
question you about my movements

the night that Sharman was abducted.

YOUR movements? I know.

Why?

The other person they've found. . .

I knew him, vaguely.

That, coupled with Julia's
connection to Sharman. . .

well, look, the long and the short
of it is I need an alibi for the
night that Sharman went missing.

When? When was that?

It was, er. . .
Monday 1st March last year.

Monday? So, we were here? No.

No, I couldn't make it.

I was in the EU-Africa
conference in Cairo. That's right.

The truth is. . .

. . I flew back that morning.

I messed up.

A 22-year-old lab technician.

Nick. . . Nick! It's not funny.

I'm not laughing, I'm in shock.

YOU playing away. . .

does not compute.

I flew back. . .

. .to accompany her to a termination.

You REALLY messed up.

That night I drove around
for hours and hours.

I just couldn't bring myself
to face Julia or you or anyone.

Do you understand what I'm saying?
I'm not sure I do.

I need you to tell the police
that we played squash that night.

Look, just come clean about it.
Julia will never find out.

I can't risk it.

It was just after her father died,
she'd never forgive me.

But she won't find out. Please.

Please.

I've thought about this.
It's the only way to kill it dead.

Nick, if it comes out I lied,
I'll be struck off.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. Do whatever you want.

I deserve it anyway.

Spence. Gordon Christie,
a clinically diagnosed delusional

with a conviction for manslaughter.

No wonder he didn't want to be
found. I wouldn't say that. Why?

He walked in 20 minutes ago.

You've been checking up on me.

I don't like it. You shouldn't have
run, makes policemen suspicious.

I might know the bloke
you're looking for. Yeah?

We only knew him as the doctor.

He never told us his name.

I was a patient at Argyle Hospital

and when they closed it down,
some of us. . .

most of us. . .weren't up to it -

the big, bad world.

Yeah, I saw
the Amanda Jenkins report.

Good old Amanda.

She really put us
on the map for 10 minutes.

We had goody bags, blankets,

more reporters
than you could shake an axe at,

and a few amateur Samaritans.

HE was one of the latter.

Tell me about this " doctor".

He turned up every day for months,

even set up a little office,
desk, chair.

Told us what to do,
got to know our medical histories.

Well, not me, but the others.

You weren't having it? I told him
he was nuttier than the rest of us,

and he'd better stay out of my way.

What did he say?
He laughed like a drain and said,

"Gordon, in the land of the blind
the one-eyed man is king. "

When did you last see this doctor?

Go on.

Day the demolition blokes turned up.

They brought along a few coppers
cause they figured
we're not going quietly.

And so, we're all looking
to the doctor to make our case.

But the doctor wasn't there?

Climbing out the back window
faster than a speeding nun.

Why do you think it's
the bloke we're after?

I saw him come back last summer
a couple of times.

Did he arrive in a car?
Car. A grey estate. Make?

Sorry, no good with cars.

What about faces?
Photographic. Great.

That's him. Thank you.

"Simon heard something rustling
in the trees.

"He turned to see a terrible
dragon bearing down on him,

"and felt a sharp claw in his arm.

"He tried to flee, but the
dragon's grip was like iron.

"The creature started breathing
fire from his scaly nose

"and Simon knew he was done for.

"Suddenly he woke up,

"and his father was stroking
his forehead and saying,

"'Simon, wake up.
It's time for tea. '

"He hugged and kissed his father,

"and then he ran
downstairs to his mother.

"It had been nothing more
than a horrible dream. "

'Let me out!

'Please!'

You're going to miss your flight.

Nonsense. Did you speak
to the people about my credit card?

They won't speak to me
because it's in your name.

I'll call them from the car. I
packed your brown suit for tomorrow.

Don't wear a tie. Why not?

You're the keynote speaker.
You can afford to be relaxed.

OK, tie shall remain in case.

Tie isn't in case,
in case you're humouring me.

Oh, God! That's a terrible pun.

I'm seven months pregnant. You're
lucky I'm still speaking to you.

Knock 'em dead.

Indulge me, Grace.

OK.

Felix is 99% sure that there is
no sexual element to these murders.

Because the bodies weren't
interfered with? Correct.

But he could have been
standing up there

getting his rocks off over them.

Of course. He could have been
getting his rocks off -

as you so delicately put it -

by his sense of power
over their entrapment,

but the different methods of
these killings indicate that there
was no sexual element to them.

If Henderson killed them,

my guess is that it's the product
of some sort of third life
somewhere.

Not home, and not
the International Health Authority?

And this third life's
got a stage somewhere.

The cement works?

No, I don't think
it is the cement works.

I think the cement works enables
this other life to continue,

but what it is
and what he does there,

I have no idea.

SCREAMING

'Whatever, whenever -
that's our philosophy.

'If you missed EastEnders on Monday,

'or you fancy watching
The Exorcist at 7.45 in the morning,

'or you want to check out
that Ricky Villa's winner

'in the 1982 Cup Final. . . '

So, how's your hotel?

'It's perfect. '

Right in the heart of the city,
but it's quiet as the grave.

I can just see. . .Stephansdom.

Sounds beautiful.

'Well, next time you'll have
to come with me, won't you?'

You've been saying that for
the past 10 years, you terrible man.

Have I?

Sorry.

Get some rest.

Love you. 'I love you too. '

'Mary!'

The fact remains Henderson wasn't
doing anything criminal. Exactly.

It's a reagent blue. It goes
blue when it reacts with blood.

Just look at the pictures!

For five weeks Michael Sharman
was trapped in a cave,

the flesh ripped off
his hands, all right?

Ah, my head. You took a bit of
a tumble, but you'll be all right.

I should see a doctor.

This police visit
is a crude intimidation tactic.

Are you angry with us or with Nick

for making you lie under caution?
What do you mean?

But he won't kill her, will he?

Yeah.

But HE'll think
of it as sparing her.

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