This is Masterpiece Mystery!

JANE TENNISON: Nothing like being thrown in the deep end.

SERGEANT: Ah, Tennison.

About bloody time.

MORGAN: There's been a murder.

How was she killed?

SERGEANT: You're testing my patience.

BRADFIELD: You shouldn't apologize for asking questions.

Be careful, Jane.

What are you playing at?

TENNISON: When we find the person that killed that girl, it will matter.

A life of crime begins.

That bastard is out there somewhere.

CUMMING: Prime Suspect: Tenniso (thunder) (whimpers) (click) It's 1973.

A 22-year-old blonde joins the Metropolitan Police Force.

It's quite nice to have her around the station.

She's easy on the eyes.

The men are happy for her to bring the tea and do the cleaning up.

Of course, the responsibilities of a grisly murder investigation are too much for a woman... they think.

How little they know.

Prime Suspect: Tennison.

(shivering) ("Can't Find My Way Home" by Blind Faith playing) ♪ Come down off your throne and leave your body alone ♪ ♪ Somebody must change ♪ ♪ You are the reason I've been waiting so long ♪ ♪ Somebody holds the key ♪ ♪ Well, I'm near the end ♪ ♪ And I just ain't got the time ♪ ♪ And I'm wasted and I can't find my way home ♪ ♪ Oooh... ♪ ♪ Come down on your own and leave your body alone ♪ (camera clicks) ♪ Somebody must change ♪ (bulb hisses) ♪ You are the reason I've been waiting all these years ♪ ♪ Somebody holds the key ♪ (siren blaring) Stop the bus!

(bell rings) MAN: You can't jump off a... (car honks) (honking) (car honks) (man yelling angrily) (woman gasping) Stop!

Give me my bag!

(grunts) (yelps) Stop, I'm a police officer!

(thunder rumbling) Are you all right?

Madam?

I need my inhaler-- oh, God.

In my bag.

(wheezing) Just breathe.

Stay calm.

Stay calm, breathe.

(inhaler hisses) Are you all right?

(moans) Thank you, love-- God bless.

Um, did you get a good look at him?

I need to take a statement.

No, no, I don't need the fuss.

There was only a couple of quid in my purse.

Um, madam, I-I need to report this.

Madam?

BRADFIELD: She's young.

Looks late teens.

Strangled?

I haven't moved her yet, but there's a cord around her neck.

There's drag marks on the concrete.

Scuffing on the back of her boots.

So maybe not killed here.

Maybe dragged and dumped.

I'm guessing not many people come down here.

Who called it in?

Male, anonymous.

From a phone box on the estate.

That's not a cord.

It looks like underwear.

Hey, get these people out of here!

(crowd murmuring) Where's Clay?

Twice in three days.

You in love?

You got a message?

I'm reconsidering our arrangement.

Tell him I'm looking for him.

Come on, get in there.

You turn up for duty late, looking like you've just been wrestling a pig.

You're supposed to be making up for last week's traffic screw-up so I have something positive to write in your first probationary report.

But I was trying to help an old lady.

I've written a few details.

Um... Tennison, get your backside into Comms and help Morgan out, now.

Golf-Hotel five-two.

Sorry I'm late.

MAN (on radio): Five-two received, over.

Reported break-in at 14 Bishop's Fields.

Can you attend, over?

Five-two received, will proceed, over.

Thank you, five-two, over.

There's been a murder.

Yeah, I put the call out.

Body found on the Kingsmead.

Young woman.

Horrible business.

(garbled speech on radio) Sorry, say again, sir.

Golf-Hotel to three-nineteen.

22 Darnley Road.

A Mrs. Amos alleging husband assaulted her.

Can you deal, over?

MAN: Yes, over.

I've not been around a murder case before.

(sighs): It's all hands on deck.

Half the station's down at the Kingsmead Estate.

One of you, two teas and biscuits to D.I.

Bradfield's office.

Golf-Hotel to five-nine.

And maybe clean yourself up while you're at it?

(snickers) Yeah, reports of suspicious activity.

(phone ringing) Morning, Jane.

Ta, love.

BRADFIELD: I want uniforms knocking on doors.

Someone knows who she is.

SERGEANT: Right.

Ah, Tennison.

About bloody time.

Four quid still in her pocket, so I'm ruling out robbery.

SERGEANT: The note's been sent to the lab for prints.

BRADFIELD: We need a name for our girl.

That's our priority.

Uh, D.S.

Lawrence noticed track marks on her arms, old ones.

An addict?

BRADFIELD: Former, by the looks of it.

I'll start with drug dependency units, see if they know her.

How was she killed?

SERGEANT: WPC Tennison, you're testing my patience today.

BRADFIELD: It's all right.

If you must know, the victim was strangled.

With her own bra.

SERGEANT: That'll be all.

Yes, Sergeant.

SERGEANT: Tennison.

Am I in trouble again, Sarge?

Not yet.

I need you to join C.I.D.

for the house-to-house at the Kingsmead and Pembridge estates.

Has she done any foot patrol there before?

You worried they'll eat her alive, a posh sort like her?

No, I didn't mean...

I'm sure I'll be able to handle it, sir.

She's sure she'll be able to handle it, sir.

Five minutes, front of station.

Right, D section lads, you're on the Kingsmead here.

Blake, Doyle, Morgan, Tennison, I want you on the Pembridge over there.

Okay, you got the sketch, you know your questions.

Let's get knocking on doors.

Come on, go!

("White Bird" by It's a Beautiful Day playing) ♪ White bird ♪ ♪ In a golden cage ♪ ♪ On a winter's day ♪ Sorry to bother you.

A young woman matching this artist's impression was found dead today.

Do you know her or have you ever seen her before?

No.

♪ White bird ♪ ♪ In a golden cage ♪ ♪ Alone ♪ ♪ The leaves blow ♪ ♪ Across the long black road ♪ ♪ To the darkened sky ♪ ♪ In its rage ♪ ♪ But the white bird... ♪ Police business-- do you recognize this woman?

Yes or no.

If you can't speak, a nod or a blink will do.

No, I've never seen her.

Right, thanks very much.

Sorry to bother you... What are you doing here?

I told you I didn't want to report it.

It was only a cheap purse.

No, madam, I'm-I'm just...

It's all right, Ma, I'll deal with it.

Um...

Sorry to bother you, sir.

What?

Have you seen this woman before?

Nah, never.

Maybe your mother?

No.

No.

(lock clicks) (dog barking) I just got a door slammed in my face.

Welcome to the Pembridge.

I've got a lead.

Old bloke there said he recognized our girl, said she used to hang out at the Greyhound pub.

Staff reckon from the description she was an outpatient, Julie Ann Collins.

Last known address, Kingsmead Estate.

All right, get in.

(car honks) MORGAN: Suzy, don't run!

Not in those heels, love!

Do yourself a damage.

Look, you're all right.

We're not here to bash heads.

(sighs): Do you know this girl?

Looks like Julie.

Why?

It was her body that we found this morning.

What is it?

She's been murdered.

Oh, no.

When did you last see her?

Not for a couple of weeks.

She used to work this patch?

Now and then.

What about any bother?

Any creeps giving her a hard time?

What about her pimp?

I don't know.

She used to hang out with this fella.

Who, that druggie?

No, they just scored together.

No, told me she was sweet on him.

Could you give me a name and description, madam?

Madam?

Be nice, Suzy.

Never knew his name.

White, brown hair, had a bad leg.

Oh, yeah.

He broke it.

She mentioned that.

I think that's why she felt sorry for him.

MORGAN: All right, thanks, girls.

Take care of yourselves, yeah?

Come on.

("Time" by Pink Floyd playing) GIBBS: This is her last known address.

Times were tough.

Hold up, how can you not know about Watergate?

President Nixon?

(sighs): It's none of our business, is it?

It's all over the news!

Stop bickering, ladies.

Looks like half the junkies on the estate have used this place.

Come on.

All right, lads?

You mates of Julie Ann's?

Take that as a yes-- get after them!

PINK FLOYD: ♪ Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day ♪ ♪ You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way ♪ ♪ Kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown... ♪ HUDSON: I've lost him.

Which way did he go?

GIBBS: Come on, stand him up straight.

That's it.

Give us your right hand.

No, the other right.

MAN: Clear the hair.

That's it, turn him around.

All right, up straight, Thin Lizzy.

Looks like you've had a bit more than whiskey in your jar, son.

HARRIS: Wake him up-- oy, oy!

GIBBS: Stand him on the spot, that's it.

Raise your hand, left hand-- left hand.

Give us your left hand.

Look, pens, yeah?

You, sign your name.

Let's go.

Let's help you out, you halfwit, come on.

You make a little mark there, yeah?

Well done.

Right, all done, piss off.

Go on, chop-chop.

You stink, the pair of you.

Concentrate, Eddie.

What were you saying?

Eh?

You were high?

When I turned my ankle.

BRADFIELD: You already told us about your broken ankle, Eddie.

That's not what I'm asking.

Girls like Julie Ann have someone looking after them.

A pimp-- was that you?

(softly): I'm her boyfriend.

Well, who was her pimp, then?

Who'd she score off?

We went to see Oz, on the hill.

Who's Oz?

Julie, is she going to be okay?

How do you feel about your girlfriend shagging other people for money?

I hate it.

It was me that took her to the hospital to try and get her clean.

I tried to help her.

Oh, yeah, you're a real saint.

What have you been up to the last 24 hours?

(stammering) At home, with Billy and my nan.

Yeah?

Who's your other mate, the one that ran away?

Who?

When we picked you up, there was three of you.

Billy, you, who was the other one?

(Eddie groans) I can't think-- I'm really tired.

I don't know what's going on.

(sighs) Give him time to come down, we'll try him again.

BRADFIELD: May 1, Eddie takes Julie Ann to the hospital.

He claims he hasn't seen her since.

That was two weeks ago.

Morgan, this Suzy, she claims Eddie and Julie Ann were lovebirds?

They got high together.

Maybe they had an arrangement, yeah?

Blow for blow jobs.

What a romantic.

Sir.

The prints from the phone kiosk on the Kingsmead.

They don't match Eddie Phillips or Billy Myers.

In fact, we have a couple of missing persons reports for Julie Ann Collins.

Latest was last year, July, reported by a George Collins.

(sighs): She was 17.

Jesus.

Address, 48 Church Mount Road.

George Collins next of kin?

We're checking, sir.

BRADFIELD: I need a uniform presence at a next-of-kin visit.

I haven't done one of those yet.

Well, can you find me another plonk then?

No, I didn't mean...

I'll do it.

(siren blaring) Continue straight on, sir.

You can take your finger off.

We're out of the traffic now.

(siren stops) Can I ask, sir...

When we get there, I know what your role is, but, um... Once we're inside, if the mother cries, do I comfort her?

How would I do that?

(sighs) Sorry if I'm asking too many questions.

No, uh, just... Just do what feels natural.

Grab that envelope from the back seat.

You want me to show this to the family?

No, when I give you the nod, just compare it with any family photographs you see.

But be discreet.

So what part of London are you from?

Maida Vale, sir.

And what brings a Maida Vale girl to the police?

I thought the force could do with more posh sorts, sir.

(laughs) Fair enough.

You shouldn't apologize for asking questions.

It's the only way you're going to become a better copper.

(engine stops) (doorbell rings) Mr. George Collins?

Yes.

Good evening.

I'm Detective Inspector Leonard Bradfield.

This is WPC Tennison.

Do you mind if we come in, sir?

Of, of course.

BRADFIELD: Do you have a daughter named Julie Ann?

Is she in trouble again?

I'm very sorry to tell you that a girl we believe to be your daughter has been found dead.

What?

The body of a young female was found earlier today on the Kingsmead Estate in Hackney.

We are treating it as a murder inquiry.

We need someone to formally identify her as soon as possible.

So you can't be sure that it is her?

Not until she's formally identified, sir, no.

(crying) (faint, echoing voices) What's this about?

I've got an alternative proposal.

It might take a few weeks to put in place, but there's a bookie's on the King's Road I'm looking into.

CLAY: No.

We're doing the bank.

One of my boys bumped into your wife.

She put up quite a fight.

Now, you bother me again, next time, I'll send two of them.

When did you last see her?

Oh.... Not for a while.

Little over a year ago.

(sighs) You know, I tried to help.

She wouldn't listen.

Ran away so often, we just stopped reporting it.

Just, uh... Hoped she'd come back.

Like other parents' kids do.

(sighs) Mr. Collins?

Yes, that is her.

That's Julie Ann.

It's all right, Mr. Collins.

It's all right, I've got you.

(gasps) (weeps) This isn't our fault.

We loved her, gave her anything she wanted, but she... She rejected us.

(weeps) (door closes) TV REPORTER: ...turned out to be taken from the spy novels written by their boss, yet another ex-C.I.A.

man.

Hi, Mum.

Have you been at work all this time?

Yes.

JANE: Hi.

(clears throat) Why are you so late?

Your mum's been worried sick.

A girl was murdered.

I went to the bereavement visit and the D.I.

sent me on the house-to-house.

On your own?

You should've called.

(door opens) Mum, can you knock?

You haven't even looked at your bridesmaid's dress.

Later-- I need to read this.

I found these in your dressing gown pocket.

I didn't know you were on the pill.

(sighs): Mum, it's 1973.

It's not a big deal.

Your sister's not on the pill.

(whispers): Oh, for God's sake.

Jane... You see, this.

This is why I worry.

You come home late.

And you're moody.

And you're effing and jeffing.

I'll try to curb the effing and jeffing.

Look at Pam.

She's happy.

So would I be if all I had to care about was shampoo and clippers.

And a wedding.

How can that make you happy?

Because it matters.

When we find the person that killed that girl, it will matter.

We!

We need the floor plans for the bank.

You look like you've just seen a ghost.

What are you depressing yourself with that crap for?

She was pretty.

Yeah.

Yeah.

(exhales) You know what you got to do?

Yeah.

Just forget about her now, all right?

I'll drop you off and then meet you back home.

Stick to looking at page three, yeah?

(engine starts) All right, you can go in now.

How's my boy?

Oh, nice to see you, too.

Look at the state of you, eyes all bloodshot.

You smoking that crap again?

Mum got mugged.

Is she okay?

Man who done it said it's a message from Clay Whitely.

We're all in danger now.

It was a misunderstanding.

Your old man's sorted it.

John wants the plans.

I told him, tomorrow.

BRADFIELD: Now you're sober, you can tell us more.

I swear, I didn't do it!

You took her to the drugs unit in Homerton Hospital.

Who told you that?

GIBBS: You did.

You moron.

EDDIE: Last time I saw her, she wanted to get onto the methadone, but then something happened and she panicked.

What happened?

She left.

Somebody picked her up.

I don't know who.

Did you see her get into a car?

Yeah.

A red one.

Oh, well, we'll keep our eyes peeled for a red car, shall we?

What sort of red car, Eddie?

A... (gasps) A Jag, a Jaguar.

A red Jag, but you don't know the driver?

(grunts) Night before last, you kipped over at your nan's?

Nancy Phillips?

Yeah.

I'll bet she knows everything that goes on in your estate.

Worth us asking her about Julie Ann?

Leave her out of this.

She's old, she's got angina.

(scoffs) Did you kill her?

Who would want Julie Ann dead, Eddie?

Think.

(retches) Oh, he's going to puke!

Not on my shoes, you little prat!

(groans) Call an ambulance.

Right, Eddie Phillips has given us a lead.

He spotted a red Jaguar pick up Julie Ann from Homerton Hospital on May 1.

I want it found pronto.

JANE: On our way, over.

Morgan, Tennison, get into the guv's office.

Eddie Phillips just puked everywhere, it needs cleaning up.

Open the window as well.

MORGAN: The sarge wants my arrest report.

Just get on with it.

(sighs) Sorry.

(radios squawking) Tennison.

Postmortem, let's go.

Oh, looks like I'm on vomit duty, then.

(laughs) Nervous?

A bit.

Nothing like being thrown in the deep end, a strangled prostitute.

Don't put it like that.

You met her parents.

She was someone's daughter.

Morning, Paul.

Hello, Len.

We didn't find anything else at the scene, just the money that was in her pocket and a cheap beaded bracelet on her right wrist.

These are her white socks and boots.

We did find some red carpet fiber on the soles of her socks and also some on the inside of her boots.

D.S.

Lawrence, I presume you're doing exhibits and photographs?

Hmm.

For the paperwork, you are?

Probationary WPC 517G Tennison, attached to B relief, Hackney, sir.

Just name and number will suffice.

This gruff sod's Professor Dean Martin.

And spare me the Rat Pack jokes.

Right, gather round.

JANE: Oh, no, thank you.

I don't smoke.

It helps block out the smell.

Try not to drop fag ash on my instruments tray, D.I.

Bradfield.

From the hypostasis and rigor examined on the body at the scene I'd estimate she was killed between 6:00 p.m. and midnight on Sunday the 13th of May.

Cause of death strangulation?

The knot on the bra was tied so tight, I had to cut it.

BRADFIELD: And the killer ripped it off her, tied it around her neck?

MARTIN: Possibly.

Excuse me.

If you need to vomit, the toilets are that way.

The bra's strapless, so it might not have been removed forcibly.

Maybe she took it off, beneath her top.

Fair point.

Extensive blue and yellow bruising down the length of the right arm, caused by severe blunt-force trauma.

Right, can we turn the body over, please?

Little lady took an extensive beating to the buttocks and the back.

At the time of death?

No, it's older.

See the difference between the bruising here and the more recent marks on the neck?

I'd estimate ten days old.

BRADFIELD: What caused them?

A narrow instrument with a round edge.

The amount of overlapping injuries suggest whoever inflicted them was in a rage.

WPC Tennison, would you mind crouching down?

Side-on, fetal position, facing me.

And raise your right hand, palm upwards, as if you were trying to protect your head.

Perfect.

She was struck repeatedly on the lower arm and then beaten repeatedly on the buttocks and the back, as she fell and lay prostrate on the floor.

He didn't mean for you to actually do that bit, Tennison.

Right, let's proceed to the fainting part.

Gentlemen, roll her back over, please.

Let's start the internal examination.

♪ ♪ (sighs) This may be another reason your victim wanted to get off the drugs.

A dead fetus in uterus.

Child might have died at the same time as the mother or as a result of the previous beating.

From the size and development, it's very early stages.

I'd estimate six to eight weeks.

("Concrete Jungle" by Bob Marley playing) ♪ No sun will shine in my day today ♪ (on radio): ♪ No sun will shine ♪ ♪ The high yellow moon won't come out to play ♪ ♪ That high yellow moon won't come out to play ♪ ♪ I said darkness... ♪ (music stops) Davey, what have I said about smoking that stuff in here?

It's raining, and the damp makes my legs worse.

Then why were you out in it the night before last?

I wasn't.

Your jacket was hanging over the bath.

I was here all night, Ma.

Whoever she is, she's not worth the bother.

Leave it, Ma.

I'll need you to write up a PM report, on what the professor told us.

Yes, sir.

You did well, Tennison.

That was one of the worst ones.

MAN (muffled): You're just going to have to be patient, madam.

I have explained, madam... Now, who is in charge here?

Oi!

You've put my grandson in hospital!

Can I help, madam?

Eddie Phillips.

He ain't got nothing to do with that tart's murder.

He tell you that, did he?

She got my Eddie beaten up.

She's the one covered in bruises.

I'd say you've got that fight the wrong way round.

Couple of months back, he borrowed money for her.

What?

Yeah.

But he couldn't pay it back, so some thug come and done a number on him.

He smashed his leg.

What are you going to do about that?

Well, he didn't tell us any of that.

And the night before last, was Eddie at yours the whole time?

Yeah, he was.

I think he was asleep all the time I was at the bingo.

Oi, don't you just leave me standing here!

BRADFIELD: So he lied about his alibi, and someone broke his leg when he told us he fell off a wall.

If he lied about that, what else did he lie about?

We've got to bring him back in.

♪ ♪ Eddie Phillips has absconded.

I want all units out there looking for him now.

(siren blaring) (typewriter keys clacking) Bugger.

SERGEANT: Before you go home, pin these to the incident board.

Why do you smell of Dettol?

I was at the mortu... Mortuary.

MORGAN: She's on Smith Street, EC4.

MAN: We're looking for Eddie Phillips.

Check upstairs.

MAN: Eddie Phillips.

Nothing down here.

(footsteps approaching down stairs) Anything?

No.

(laughing and chatting Hello, Suzy.

I'm not sure you should be out working.

It's not safe, love.

"Love" now, is it?

We're looking for Julie Ann's boyfriend.

Have you seen him around here recently?

No.

What was Julie Ann's relationship with Eddie like?

I didn't know him.

Was he violent?

Have you prepared a long list of questions?

Piss off... Love.

Sorry I bothered you.

It makes me sick to my stomach that that bastard is out there somewhere, breathing, eating, living, while Julie Ann is in the mortuary being prodded and poked and sliced open.

Help me help her.

Makes me sick, too.

Not from round here.

Are you?

No.

She didn't belong here, neither.

She wanted out.

That bastard Eddie had her trapped.

I don't want to say no more.

(doorbell rings) Mr. Collins.

I think we need to talk.

They said you'd be here.

Sir, I don't think Eddie Phillips was just Julie Ann's boyfriend.

What?

I went to speak to Suzy and she said... (sighing): Tennison, you shouldn't have done that.

There are protocols.

I know, but... Whatever she said could be inadmissible.

When was this?

Just... Best if you don't tell me.

Same again.

BARTENDER: Sure.

What are you having?

I'll just have the same as you.

There you go.

Cheers.

Cheers.

Eight years ago, we had this young PC, Charlie Hopkins.

He's not much older than you.

He died while doing a routine check on a vehicle with false plates.

The driver deliberately mowed him down.

What Hopkins didn't know was that... (sighs) The driver was on his way to an armed raid of a bookie's.

I got information about a garage that had taken the vehicle in for repairs.

So I broke in, I found it.

Smashed headlight... ...dented bumper... ...blood smear.

I knew I had him.

The driver.

You arrested him?

No.

No, he saw me go in the garage.

By the time I came back with the warrant, he'd torched the car.

No fingerprints, no nothing to connect it to PC Hopkins.

Bastard got away with it.

Sorry...

I, I didn't mean to be... going on about that.

Cheers.

Cheers.

BRADFIELD: Same as you, I trained at Hendon.

JANE: And when was that?

Late '50s... ...early '60s?

Really?

Well, I suppose that explains why you're walking me home then.

Clearly I'm old and doddery enough to warrant a chaperone.

Actually, it's because you nearly fell over coming out of the pub and then you tried to get your car keys out.

I didn't want to see what happened next.

In that case, um...

Thank you for saving my life.

You know, seriously, I'm, I'm very... (sighs) Drunk?

Grateful.

Hmm, no...

Sorry, can't be doing that.

I'm your superior officer, and, uh... we're both very drunk... (sighs) Evening.

(man whistling) I should be going.

Um... Will you be okay getting home?

Yes, I'll be fine.

Uh... well, um... (sighs) MORGAN: All right, early bird.

Morning.

Late one, was it?

Where'd you go?

Nowhere.

Stayed in.

Up late studying, that's all.

(distant sound of men laughing, echoing) Tell me we've found any villains.

Still looking but we'll find him.

Sir, nothing found in Eddie's flat.

Not one print that matches Julie Ann's.

Bollocks.

Any luck tracing the red Jag that Eddie claimed picked Julie Ann up?

That was the last time she was seen alive.

Nothing yet.

MORGAN: Are you going to get started on those red Jag phone calls, Jane?

Jane?

Hmm?

Phone calls?

Yes.

Where did you get up to?

Let's see.

MORGAN: Go from there.

Morgan.

I need a plonk to accompany me to Julie Ann's parents.

Sergeant Harris has posted me on foot patrol covering Five Beat.

Sorry.

Tennison.

GEORGE: There was a matching necklace.

It was part of a set.

I'm sorry, we haven't found that yet.

Well, at least we'll have something of hers for the service.

BRADFIELD: We'll release the body as soon as we can.

There is another reason that we stopped by.

What is it?

We've already told you everything we know.

This may be difficult for you to hear.

Julie Ann may have been trying to kick her drug habit because she was pregnant.

GEORGE: Oh, dear God... BRADFIELD: I take it neither of you knew?

MARY: The newspaper describes Julie Ann as a drug user and a prostitute.

If you speak to the press, will you remind them that she was more than that?

Of course.

The postmortem also revealed that your daughter had injuries consistent with a beating, we think from about two weeks before her death.

Was this the boyfriend, this Eddie?

How do you know about Eddie?

The newspaper describes him as Julie Ann's boyfriend, helping with your inquiries.

("Street Life" by Roxy Music playing) ♪ Wish everybody would leave me alone, yeah ♪ ANNOUNCER (on radio): The news is on the hour, every hour.

Come on, John.

Time to get up.

They've been talking about that poor murdered girl again on the radio.

Ta.

Makes you scared to leave your own home.

Is David back?

He was.

Went straight out again.

He spoken to you?

About?

Just wondered what he's up to.

John?

Is this about some girl he was seeing?

He's fine, Ma.

Here, do us some bacon, will you?

♪ All those lies can be so unkind ♪ ♪ They can make you feel like you're losing your mind... ♪ You got anything stronger?

Do I look like a dealer?

Please, man.

Tell me where I can find Eddie, then.

You're not going to find him.

If you really need something, I can give you an address not far from here.

We're speaking to all Jaguar dealers in the area, looking for the owner of a red XJ series.

20,000 red Jags sold since 1968.

Can we get a better description?

Well when we find Eddie, we'll ask him.

Tennison?

I just found Julie Ann's PM Report lying on my desk.

Yes.

You told me to leave it there, sir.

Yes, but it needs to be in an envelope, with my name on it.

It's sensitive material.

MAN (on phone): Hello, are you still there?

Sorry about that.

Sorry, you said he worked there?

And that's definitely a red Jaguar.

This garage serviced a red XJ6 for a doctor at Homerton Hospital.

So that's Dr. Hussein Pryor.

Thank you, great.

GIBBS: Morgan, you beauty.

MORGAN: Yes!

GIBBS: Come on!

Silas, darling, is that van going to be parked there all day?

Once they've unloaded it, I'll get them to move it around the corner, okay?

And the noise level?

I do hope there won't be any noise.

(metal jangling loudly) Let's hope not-- I will sort it.

You're a treasure, darling.

Hey.

You have to keep quiet.

The busybody next door will complain, and the council will shut me down.

Please move this stuff downstairs.

What do you care if the council shut you down?

Yeah, this time next week, you'll be on a beach, sitting on a big pile of cash.

Ready to roll?

Yeah.

What are you going to do with your share?

Get as far away from here as possible.

Me, too.

Mum'll be all right, won't she?

Yeah.

She'll have Dad to look after her.

Yeah.

Oi.

I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but don't muck this one up for us, David.

I'm not going to.

(engine starts up) PRYOR: She looks familiar.

Julie Ann Collins.

She came here as an outpatient on May 1 to sign up to your methadone program.

She was last seen climbing into a red Jaguar outside here.

Do you own a red Jaguar XJ6?

My wife has the Jag, ex-wife.

She lives in Kent.

We're going to have to contact your wife to confirm this.

Fine.

Have you talked to Theresa?

Who's Theresa?

Theresa O'Duncie.

One of the receptionists here.

I'm sure she knew this girl.

Is Theresa here now?

Ask one of the girls-- they'll have her details.

BRADFIELD: Thank you for coming in, Mrs. O'Duncie.

After I had my appendix out last month, the stitches got infected.

Just take a seat.

I had this shooting pain, right across my stomach.

So they put me on a course of antibiotics.

O'Duncie-- is that with a C-Y?

C-I-E. Well, when I came back to work today and heard about Julie Ann, the pain came back in the same place, right here, so maybe it's an emotional pain.

Not an infection.

Every cloud.

Dr. Pryor said you let Julie Ann use an office phone.

Her and Eddie.

We know Eddie at the unit.

He was always around.

I was never sure about him.

Any idea who she called?

No.

I overheard her asking someone for money-- well, demanding.

But it was an 01 number.

Would anyone have written it down?

Yeah, me.

External calls have to go through the switchboard.

You still have it?

When Julie Ann left, did Eddie go with her?

He asked her where she was going.

But she told him to mind his own business.

He got really angry with her.

I reckon he's done this.

You should speak to him.

Hi, Sheila.

The public phone's always out of order, so I didn't think there would be a problem.

I like to help the poor angels any way I can, point them in the right direction.

That's where I wrote it down, On the pad there.

Before I got this job, I was an outpatient here.

It's a disease, addiction.

Stop.

What are you doing?

Checking for indented writing.

Not by that ham-fisted method.

The forensic document examiner does that.

He's got a bigger pencil.

Come on.

What are you doing here again?

I've been thinking.

I want the same share as John and Danny.

They're doing the manual labor.

It's worked out on merit.

You hardly even know Danny.

He's your cousin-- he's family, too.

And I'm your son.

David!

(chuckling) We're only keeping 40 percent.

The rest goes to Whitely.

The slices are already cut very thin.

Thinner for some than others.

Why has the money become an issue all of a sudden?

You can have five percent of mine.

Ten.

Don't push your luck.

Clifford, mate.

Looked like you was having some family trouble.

A son like that needs to be brought in line.

Don't fill me with confidence seeing you being talked to by a cripple like that.

("Demon's Eye" by Deep Purple playing) ♪ I don't mind... ♪ (door crashing open) ♪ Just what you say ♪ ♪ I'd never hurt you, baby ♪ We're looking for your mate Eddie.

I've not seen him since you last picked us up.

Well, he's your mate.

Has he not dropped by?

No.

Shall we take you in, Billy?

I swear!

Last chance.

What did you put in your pocket as I came in?

Help us out or we take a look.

Try Dwayne Clarke.

Eddie always runs to him when he's in trouble.

MORGAN: This particular car was parked outside Homerton Hospital.

Hello?

Yes, thank you.

And I was wondering if you had a chance to look at the hospital notepad we brought in.

Right, we need to speak to this prick Billy told us about, Dwayne Clarke.

He's hiding Eddie.

Still looking, but we'll find him.

There's nothing so far.

No record, his name doesn't crop up anywhere.

Well, run his name by Drugs and Vice.

Shake some branches.

Hello, lads!

Jesus, you scared the crap out of me.

Well, I didn't realize you drug squad boys got scared.

My gov needs your help.

Oh, yeah?

We need you to I.D.

someone.

Dwayne Clarke, real name Darren Ackroyd.

Believe it or not, but the lad is well connected.

Fingers in lots of pies.

Dwayne's got form-- likes to stomp on heads.

Junkies mostly.

Where can we find him?

You don't.

He's the subject of a long- running undercover operation.

Oh, come on, don't be a jobsworth.

My hands are tied.

This is a murder investigation.

She was 17, for God's sake.

We think he's harboring our prime suspect.

If you don't touch him, we'll agree to a fair exchange of information.

We'll show you ours if... Well, you know.

BRADFIELD: We don't know for certain if there's active surveillance on him, so make sure no one outside this room knows.

GIBBS: Find Dwayne and we get Eddie.

Where do we find him?

Duke let slip that Dwayne has an alias, Darren Ackroyd.

We've got an address and a car registered to him.

(knock on door) Come in.

JANE: Sorry to interrupt.

Sir, the forensic document examiner retrieved a partial number from the pad we found at the hospital.

01-946-03.

I'll need your signature so that the GPO can send us a list of possibilities.

I put it in an envelope with your name on it, sir.

Leave it with me.

(screams) (muffled screams) (crying) Who's the cripple now, then?

You should watch your mouth.

(screams in pain) GIBBS: Don't suppose Dwayne drives a brown Mini?

If he's as smart as Duke suggests, then he's not going to come back to his flat with Eddie, is he?

(police radio chatter) MORGAN (on radio): Golf Hotel to D.I.

Bradfield, over.

Go ahead.

Uniform has spotted a blue Mercedes, listed owner Darren Ackroyd.

(engine starts) MORGAN: Registration Delta Hotel November 5-7-7-Hotel.

Heading north on Talbot Road.

Over.

Tell uniform to take him now.

We don't want to lose him.

(siren blaring) (tires screeching) That's him.

(shouting) MORGAN: Suspect apprehended.

Tell them to keep him there, we're on our way, over.

Where is he?

Did you lose him?

He's over here.

He's a real handful.

Took four of us to pin him down.

Is everyone all right?

Yes, sir.

We've had to chuck him in here.

DWAYNE (pounding trunk): Get me out of here!

You've got nothing on me!

Dwayne?

Yoo-hoo, Mr. Clarke!

Can you hear me?

You're going to pay for this.

Knock once if you can.

You've got no right to do this.

Is he cuffed?

Yeah.

Ready?

Oi, what's this all about?

Get me out of here now!

You got no right to do this.

Good work.

BRADFIELD: Eddie Phillips.

His girlfriend has turned up dead.

He's done a runner.

And we think you know where he is.

So let's see what Mr. Clarke's been up to.

A scuzzy dickhead like Dwayne Clarke can afford a motor like this and I'm on a poxy scooter.

I don't know no Eddie.

GIBBS: We saw you with him, idiot.

So why are you covering for him?

DWAYNE: I'm not covering for that arse.

We found these in the air filter.

It's enough to throw possession with intent to supply at him.

BRADFIELD: If we found in your car that starts with W. I didn't put that there.

GIBBS: Who did then?

Flipping tooth fairy?

Here we go.

Got it.

He kept a tally book.

BRADFIELD: So, in this little book we have a handy list of your customers.

Now, this Tod had quite the party on the 13th.

You supplied him with various drugs on the day that Julie Ann died.

I've never seen that book before.

One of your coppers must have planted it.

You're on thin ice.

Same goes for that bag of weed and the money.

None of that is mine.

I'd like to speak to my solicitor.

BRADFIELD: Tell us where to find Eddie Phillips.

I ain't seen him.

He didn't give us Eddie, did he?

We'll stick him with the possession charge.

GIBBS: What do you tell Duke?

Speak of the devil.

You arrogant pricks.

All right, steady, mate.

DUKE: Six months of surveillance down the drain.

We're building a case against some major players and you just blew it out of the water.

I've got a murdered girl.

I don't give a toss about what long game you're playing.

What's that?

Part of our "fair exchange of information."

Duke, hold on.

Who's that with Eddie and Julie Ann?

DUKE: A new player.

We're still establishing his identity, but he's a regular supplier of Eddie's.

They were taken two days before she died.

All we know is, on the street he's known as Oz.

Thank you.

JOHN: According to the plans the first wall is... Somewhere.

It's there.

Right, let's go.

(jackhammer pounding) Jesus!

JOHN (on radio): Eagle One to Eagle's Nest.

Eagle One to Eagle's Nest, we're done for the night.

You still awake up there?

Eagle One, I'm awake, over.

(sighs) Finally.

Sorry I'm late.

I hope you're not going to wear that on the day.

It'll look like Pam's out on day release.

Please, Mum, I'm missing work for this.

Glad you could make it.

We're at the vows.

You take the bouquet.

What?

Take it, then!

And then when we leave the vestry, you hand it back to me.

Got that?

I think we need to go over it again for my sister's benefit.

(Bradfield clears his throat) (clears throat) Look, I...

I don't usually drink that much.

What do I do if someone asks about the investigation?

Oh, um... Just tell them it's sub judice to discuss it.

(projector whirring) George... Oh, thank you for coming, Detective Inspector.

Have there been any developments?

We are chasing several leads, sir.

Oh, well, that's something.

So sad, George.

So very sad.

Let me get you a taxi, Reg.

Yeah, I think you're right, George.

Tennison, could you call a taxi for this gentleman, please?

Of course.

Thank you, dear.

Would you like to come and say hello to Mary?

Of course.

Hello.

48 Church Mount Road, please.

Oh.

01-946-0365.

Thank you.

(replaces receiver) (murmuring) Cheers, then.

Is everything all right?

I didn't see any ashtrays inside, so I assume Mrs. Collins would prefer I did this out here.

Ah, yes, well, you assumed right.

Sorry, sir.

You had the phone number.

I didn't think it was enough.

It's enough to question him and get a warrant.

Now I trust we won't find your fingerprints all over those door handles?

I didn't touch it.

Where is Gibbs?

It was a good spot.

I don't usually drink that much.

That suspect driver I told you about.

About six weeks later we arrested him for a different robbery.

The bastard gets out this week.

What the hell's this?

Lord knows I have no desire to delay your release, so I've convinced Mikey here to tell the warden he fell down the stairs.

So what?

Ought to tell your dog to be more careful who he bites.

Trust.

That is so important to me, Clifford.

Now, I've invested too much in this job to allow anything to derail it.

Now, you promised me you could do it.

And in return for 40 percent, I don't expect to have to deal with this.

Who do you think you're talking to?

Do you know who I am?

MIKEY: You're a nobody, old man.

You'll return the plans and I'll find someone more obedient.

I was pulling schemes like this when you were still in your nappies.

Now, my boys have already started.

So back off and let us get on with it.

All right.

Untwist your knickers, Clifford.

I've got people on the outside relying on you, so get it done.

Or next time I'll take more than just your wife's purse.

BRADFIELD: Right, you four with me.

Where'd you go for that warrant, Timbuktu?

Wait here.

With me!

All right?

Hi.

LAWRENCE: Make sure nobody goes into the bedrooms before I do.

One of the lads saw you and Bradfield outside the section house the other night.

I didn't think you were a cat stuck up a tree.

Be careful, Jane.

Nothing happened.

Weren't studying, were you?

Come on.

Excuse me.

I am so sorry.

Of course.

GEORGE: DCI Bradfield, what's this?

Is it a change of shift?

I'm very sorry, Mr. Collins, but your guests need to leave.

(stammering): Whatever's happened?

My officers need to search your house.

GIBBS: This is the warrant.

Now?

I already told you that Julie Ann didn't live here.

You also told us you hadn't spoken to her since last year, but we have discovered that's not the case.

She telephoned this house on May the 1st.

GIBBS: The day she was seen leaving the clinic.

All yours, Paul.

I'm looking for anything that can place Julie Ann Collins here in the last two weeks.

Morgan, can you sit with Mrs. Collins, please?

Yeah.

Tennison.

Check the garage, see what you can find.

BRADFIELD: Did you speak to Julie Ann on May the 1st?

She telephoned and we spoke, but not for long.

What did you talk about?

She, she wanted to borrow some money.

I refused-- that was it.

You didn't see her?

No.

So on that same day, outside Homerton Hospital, we have an eyewitness who saw your daughter getting into a red Jaguar.

You have a red Jaguar parked in your garage, George.

On May the 1st at 11:00 a.m., did you pick your daughter up from Homerton Hospital?

I don't even know where that is.

And about two weeks later, Sunday, May the 13th, in the evening-- can you tell me where you were?

I've already told you.

Tell me again, George.

My wife and I went to a dinner hosted by one of the managers at my factory.

We found red fibers on Julie Ann's socks.

Are they going to match the carpeting in your car, George?

Why do you keep using my first name?

You think I'm guilty?

My own daughter?

You think I'm capable of this?

After you picked Julie Ann up from Homerton Hospital, where did you drive her?

Well?

LAWRENCE: We can place her near the car.

She left a nice, clean thumb print on the passenger door handle.

Unless the father talks, it'll be hard for us to prove that was put there in the past two weeks.

Gov.

You need to see this.

We found nothing in the master bedroom or the study.

The spare room's used for storage.

Where's this going, Spence?

It's this room, sir.

GIBBS: There's blood here and here.

The mattress had been turned over.

These fibers seem a good match.

I'll have to check with the lab to be certain.

Sir.

BRADFIELD: Christ.

They locked her in here.

This is a cell.

MARY: George.

George!

What's going on?

MORGAN: Ma'am, please.

(click) Next time on Masterpiece Mystery!

Keep your wits about you, Jane, you'll be all right, okay?

Police, nobody move!

Bloody hell's going on?

Jane, you are not thinking this through.

Oh, for God's sake!

I made a promise.

To pin a hit-and-run on an innocent man?

(mutters): Innocent.

"Prime Suspect: Tennison," next time on Masterpiece Mystery!

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