Programa de TV: Life on Mars (UK) - 2x4
Sam?
It's your Auntie Heather.
Now then, who's my lovely boy, eh?
Oh, you poor little love.
You'll be better soon.
D'you know, it breaks my heart to see you like this.
Remember, your Auntie Heather will always be here for you.
You've always been my favourite nephew, Sam.
Somebody, please...
Oh.
come on.
Don't do this to me.
Talk to me, somebody, please.
My name is Sam Tyler.
I had an accident and I woke up in 1973.
Am I mad, in a coma, or back in time?
Whatever's happened, it's like I've landed on a different planet.
Now, maybe if I can work out the reason, I can get home.
Nice day for it.
-Woman in her twenties.
-Dead.
Well, I didn't think she was sunbathing, did I?
Who found her?
-That foul-mouthed inbred there.
-Wanker.
Shitbloodyshit.
-Shitwomandead.
Bugger.
Arsehole.
-Charming.
She's not an inbred.
She's probably got Tourette's.
They were playing doctors and nurses and found the real thing.
-Any signs of sexual assault?
-It's hard to tell, really, Guv.
-She's still got her knickers on.
-Christ's sake, Chris!
She's somebody's daughter.
What's that smell?
Dog shit everywhere round here, boss.
No, it's...
So what can you tell from sniffing the victim's hair, DI Tyler?
-Nothing.
It's just...
-We should get her to the morgue.
Then we could all have a good sniff away from prying eyes!
So where'd you meet her?
At the ice rink.
I skated over her thumb.
Take my advice: get a pint of Pernod and black down her, do what you like to her after that.
What are you hoping for?
Upstairs inside?
Don't really know, Guv.
It's got to be inside downstairs, Guv.
What, the first date?
She's not a prossie.
Is she?
No.
No, first date, upstairs inside.
He's not going to marry her.
What's the matter with you?
Cause of death would appear to be a blow to the head, possibly struck against a wall or a kerb.
-Raped?
-Hard to say.
There's evidence of rough sexual intercourse, but nothing to say forced entry.
Would you stop sniffing that poor woman?
She's wearing a very distinctive perfume.
There was one thing that might interest you, DCI Hunt.
-What?
-La fleur de mort.
I once hit a bloke for speaking French.
The flower of death.
I don't believe you.
I had a job getting her fingers open due to the advanced rigor mortis.
But there was a little gift waiting for me.
Five years ago, this was a frightened city.
Five women raped and murdered.
They called him Manc the Knife.
We took a lot of stick, me more than anyone.
-But we caught him.
Terence Finn.
-Yeah, right little pervert.
He was sent down for life and the city breathed again.
Terence Finn died in prison two years ago and not a single tear was shed.
-Annie?
What's happened?
-We were arresting this suspect.
He were a little lad, but he were too strong for Cartwright.
Felt her tits and legged it off down the street.
Yeah, well, he took me by surprise.
-You OK?
-I told you this'd happen.
Fine behind a desk, shit on the streets.
I am talking here!
Right.
Each of the victims had a crushed red geranium in her hand.
Like a calling card.
Well, this morning, the body of a young woman was found.
She had a crushed red geranium in her hand.
So what are you saying?
We might have banged up the wrong bloke.
Don't get me wrong.
Finn was a scrotum.
I don't give a toss.
If we did get it wrong, I want this man caught before he kills again.
This is my city and it will be safe for my wife and my mum to walk around in.
-Is that understood?
-Yes, Guv.
Find who the dead woman was, find out who killed her.
Do it now.
Hold up.
Do it tomorrow morning, first thing.
-Beer o'clock, gentlemen.
-Yeah!
-You OK?
-Fine, thank you, sir.
Buy you a drink?
-No, thank you.
-At least let me walk you home.
Why would I want you to walk me home?
You heard what the Guv said.
There might be a killer on the loose.
Well, are you walking Chris and Ray home?
I don't need your help.
I can walk myself home, sir.
Stay the hell away!
Are you OK?
Yeah, I'm all right, er...
I'm all right.
-Who was driving?
-I don't know.
Look, I'm a police officer.
Who was driving that car?
He just pulled up.
Asked if I wanted a lift.
So you got in the car.
Not very sensible, is it?
-What did he look like?
-Don't know.
Er...
Ordinary.
Average.
You've got lovely hands.
Are you sure you're a copper?
Is that your perfume?
Could be the bins.
Look...
this is serious.
OK?
I'll get us another drink.
There you go, love.
Thanks.
-A Beauvoir Lady?
-I recognised the victim's perfume.
My auntie was a Beauvoir Lady.
She smelt exactly the same.
Her and a thousand other women.
Telephone all the Beauvoir Ladies in Manchester, I guarantee you will find one of them missing.
There was no connection to Beauvoir Ladies five years ago.
-Maybe you missed something.
-Maybe we did.
Just let me do this.
If nothing comes of it, I won't mention it again.
Two hours.
Nobody's done anything wrong.
We just wondered if you had noticed anything unusual.
-Just checking the whereabouts...
-How did it go?
Good.
It'll take me ages to get through this lot.
Don't tell me.
Upstairs outside and you got a slap?
You found my killer yet?
-No, not yet.
-You've got 20 minutes.
Hey, Chris, how was your hot date?
Downstairs outside?
No.
No, I won't be seeing her again.
Never mind, son.
Plenty more slags in the sea.
Just took a call from a man worried about his wife.
Hasn't seen for her 24 hours.
Her name's Sandra Trotman.
She's a Beauvoir Lady.
Our house was always full of women, especially after Dad left.
Me Auntie Heather came over all the time.
She's one of those people that...
as soon as she walks into a room, the world's a better place.
What are you doing?
I miss her.
I miss all of them.
Is this what we're here for, sir?
-Denise.
-Piss off.
Just want to talk to you.
Leave her alone!
Get off me!
Easy, easy.
Why don't you just leave me alone?
We can't do that, Denise.
I have to know who pushed you out of the car, Denise.
I've told you.
I don't know.
A woman died, you know.
She was murdered.
I'm sorry about that, but it's nothing to do with me.
Why are you lying?
Who are you trying to protect?
If I knew him I'd say, wouldn't I?
Did you know the dead girl, Denise?
She was a Beauvoir Lady, too.
Sandra Trotman.
Did you ever work with her?
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God...
Here, drink this, Denise.
I'm sorry, I have to ask you these questions.
Just take your time.
I told Sandra he was bad news.
He...
he runs these parties.
You know, er...
car-keys-on-the-table stuff.
What do you do at these parties?
Serve drinks and stuff in stupid togas.
If one of the blokes didn't fancy the wife he'd been given, then...
then we'd help out.
And Sandra worked these parties with you?
Yeah, the bloke seemed really fond of her.
But almost too fond, you know?
When she didn't ring for a few days, I asked him if he'd seen her.
And that's when he threw you out of the car?
He's a powerful man.
He knows all sorts.
Masons, coppers...
-Who is he?
-If he killed Sandra...
...he'd kill any one of us.
-I need his name, Denise.
Roger Twilling.
44 years old, successful businessman.
Very popular in the business community.
Gives a lot to charity.
I hate people who give to charity.
Lives in Chorlton, where he holds discreet sex parties.
So what happens at these parties?
Well, if you're invited, and he's very fussy who he invites, you all put your car keys in a bowl.
The wives pull out a key.
Really?
What, in Chorlton?
Are you taking this seriously, Guv?
The bloke who murdered those women was brutal, Sam.
Vicious, clever.
-Led me a right merry little dance.
-So let's get him.
The one thing he wasn't was a prat selling overpriced motors.
Well, he's our only lead.
We know one of the victims knew him, possibly intimately.
And we know he's into holding these discreet sex parties.
Hey.
Hang on.
Over there.
Red Lotus.
Denise Williams was thrown out of that car by that man.
So?
He pushed a bird out of a car.
Doesn't make him a bad bloke.
Oh, pull him in, then.
I'll dance the fandango on his head.
He's too clever for that.
How do we get to him, then, Gladys?
It's called surveillance.
-Doesn't sound very manly.
-Manly?
Well, it's not proper police work, is it, spying on people?
I did what you said.
I got a whole load of Pernod and black down her.
-What happened?
-It's the future.
One day, the vast majority of police work will be surveillance.
Gathering information, feeding that information into computers...
I hope I'm dead by the time that happens.
I shouldn't worry too much about that.
Come on.
What happened?
I had a few drinks meself, otherwise it would have been suspicious.
So I've got me hand on her tits, outside upstairs.
-Good boy.
-There isn't a human rights law -restricting unauthorised...
-Would you shut up?
This is making me quite randy.
Well, I went to kiss her and, er...
...it all came out.
What did?
You were sick on her?
Over her face and mouth.
Oh, Chris.
I'm off.
Oh, dear.
Chris, you are a boy.
-Hello?
-Hello.
Hello?
-Auntie Heather.
-I'm sorry, love, wrong number.
Come on.
Talk to me, somebody.
Don't you dare leave me here on my own.
-Boss?
-Chris.
Really interesting stuff, boss, surveillance.
It's cutting-edge.
Thanks, Chris.
Can I help you?
Yeah.
Um...
You know that bird I was dating?
The one you sicked up Pernod and black on?
Yeah.
Well, she's given me another chance.
Blimey.
Good for you.
I was just wondering if you could give me a few pointers, you know, 'cause...
well, women like you.
Er...
I'm a bit busy trying to catch a murderer at the moment, Chris.
Look, just...
be yourself.
You know?
Relax.
Act like you're down the pub with Ray.
What, light me farts?
No, no.
I was only joking.
Go on.
Well, you know, she's a human being, just like you.
She'll be nervous, she wants to be liked, same as you.
Be kind.
Show her some respect.
You were right, boss.
Works a treat.
You people are sick.
Y...
yeah, yeah.
Come on.
Let's show some respect here.
What?
What is it?
The pathologist from the original murders.
Stuart Bator.
Ah, Master Bator.
Remember him well.
What about him?
-He moved, to Brighton.
-Foolish, but not illegal.
Bator was in the market for a second-hand car.
He bought the car from Roger Twilling.
-Go on.
-They become very good friends.
Bator get pissed at the golf club, tells Twilling about the Flower of Death.
You got the right man before, Guv.
This is a copycat killing.
When Twilling murdered Sandra Trotman, he remembered what Bator had told him and used the red geranium to throw us off the scent.
Twilling thinks he's above us, Guv.
He thinks he's untouchable.
He'll rue the day he decided to play copycat with Gene Hunt.
I want him, Sam.
Hurry up, boss.
It's freezing out here.
I don't like this.
Gene Hunt smashes doors down.
He does not pick girly locks.
We can't just pull him in.
He's too clever for that.
At least this way we get hard evidence.
I'll be the laughing stock of the Lancashire police dinner and dance.
Believe it or not, Guv, one day soon something like this will bring down Richard Nixon.
Hard to believe.
Chris, this is serious.
Sorry, boss.
-Where do you want the transmitter?
-Up here.
Chris?
Bend down.
-What for?
-Just do it.
All right.
Up.
Hold still.
-The law, the law!
-Get down, you div!
We ARE the law, you bloody clowns.
God help us.
Sorry.
What have you been eating?
Pedigree Chum?
We don't all have to be in here.
If this is the future, Gladys, we want to learn from the master.
A bird's just gone in.
Could be his missus.
-How was it?
-Not bad.
Wouldn't Nixon notice a van parked outside the White House?
-Shhh.
-I spoke to Barbara earlier.
She said do we want to play doubles at Hanningtons later?
Could do.
Are they coming to the next party?
Maybe we should ease back on the parties, Roger.
-We are not discussing this, Carol.
-Sorry.
-So, are they coming?
-Oh, try and stop them.
Barbara said Trevor learnt things from Mrs Luckhurst that would be illegal in some parts of Wales.
Good girl.
Bloody hell.
That was getting good.
That bloody tart's been hassling me again.
-Ignore her.
-He means Denise.
I don't know anything about her poxy friend.
Turn it down, it's hurting me ears!
Missed it.
-What's Hanningtons?
-It's a tennis club in Chorlton.
Murderers do not play tennis.
Well, this one does.
What about Bator?
Let's have him arrested and shipped up to me.
-Can't do that, Guv.
-Why not?
-He died of cancer last year.
-Damn the man.
But I have another idea.
So we met on the canal footpath.
Spring, 1970.
I was Ionely, I was...
you know, wondering if I'd ever find "her".
-Her?
-Yeah, the one.
You know, the one we're all searching for.
Me dog was struggling.
Thought it was going to drown.
-Terrier.
-Airedale terrier.
You jumped in and saved him.
You were my hero.
-Sure you want to do this?
-We were married a year later.
-Might get a bit dangerous.
-You were never Ionely again.
Annie.
We had a lovely honeymoon in Blackpool.
I was so surprised you were still a virgin.
My husband and I only joined last week.
Everyone's been very friendly.
Pretty lady like you, why wouldn't they be friendly?
I bet you say that to all the girls.
Only the attractive ones.
Does your wife know you're such a flirt?
You can ask her yourself.
Darling, this is, um?
-Cherie.
-Is my husband pestering you?
Oh, he's being very flattering.
-You here alone?
-My husband's here somewhere...
Darling.
Meet Roger and Carol.
Hi.
Tony Blair.
-How do you do?
-Hello.
-So, I hear you're new to the area.
-Yeah, it seems very nice.
It is nice.
Good people.
-Don't need a new car, do you, Tony?
-Roger sells cars.
Luxury cars.
What is it you drive?
Rover, P6.
V8.
-Excellent.
Happy with it?
-Very.
Boys and their cars.
Listen, can I be really, really forward?
-Oh, I love forward women.
-Roger, behave.
Sorry, what were you going to say?
Well, it's just we're new to Chorlton and we don't really know anyone yet.
Why don't we all go out for dinner one night?
I think we can do better than that.
We're having a few friends over at our place tonight.
-Tonight?
-Oh, nothing fancy.
Just some nicely chilled Blue Nun and a few vol-au-vents.
-Er...
maybe some other...
-We'd love to.
Yeah.
Just have a quick knock-up here first and work up a sweat, then we'll come right over.
-Yeah, OK.
-That's settled.
Terrific.
Some nicely chilled Blue Nun and some vol-au-vents.
This is Manc the Knife, is it?
There's something about him.
It's his eyes.
-He invited us to drinks tonight.
-So I heard.
Don't like it, Sam.
Skulking about in a van.
This might be the only chance we get.
-Evidence, you said.
-What's a vol-au-vent?
Got no bugs in his house, we can't hear anything.
Nothing is going to happen.
It's just drinks, not one of those parties.
It's a puff-pastry shell, filled with a savoury meat mixture.
-What if it gets out of hand?
-I won't let it.
Please, sir.
I think we're getting somewhere here.
You mean a pie, then?
Absolutely ravishing.
-Thanks, Rog.
It's a lovely drop.
-Frisky, isn't it?
-It is.
-Pert and frisky.
-Lovely, Roger.
-Here, I'll take that.
I've got a case of this...
Have something to eat, you two.
Now, there's sausage rolls, vol-au-vents and a hedgehog.
-Hedgehog?
-It's not a real hedgehog, silly.
It's pineapple, cheese, silver onion on a stick.
Mm.
Delicious.
Carol.
Hungry people over here.
Yes, dear.
I think that was a real hedgehog.
Behave.
Now what do we do?
-Does everybody like Santana?
-Oh, God.
God, I love Santana.
Try and get in conversation with Twilling.
-I'm going to take a look around.
-OK.
-Be careful.
-I will.
Darling.
-Lucky man.
-Oh, hello.
Thank you so much for inviting us.
Oh, we're always looking for new friends.
Of the right sort, if you understand what I'm saying.
Right sort?
Well, the world is changing, Tony.
My father thought he was lucky with a semi-detached and a packet of Woodbines.
But I want more out of life than that.
Fine wine.
Good food.
Hm.
More even than that.
But to get real pleasure, you need to have the courage to be different.
Don't you agree, Tony?
Yeah.
Actually, I do.
Cherie?
Oh, well, I just sort of do what I'm told.
Nothing wrong with that.
If you'll excuse me.
-Little boys' room.
-Oh, I'll keep her warm for you.
Hi.
Can I help you?
-I was looking for the bathroom.
-And does this look like a bathroom?
Truth?
I was looking for you.
For me?
You're a very attractive woman.
You have a very beautiful wife.
Yes, I do.
Well, my husband wouldn't like you being in here.
Please.
Oh, here he is.
She was fretting about you.
I was not.
I've been well entertained.
-We should go.
-Nonsense, you've only just arrived.
Well, I've got an early start tomorrow, so, er...
Roger's just been telling me about these amazing parties they have here.
Oh?
Well, only for the select few, if you understand what I'm saying.
Oh, I think we all understand each other.
Shall we come to your party, Carol?
I'll look forward to it.
If we're right and this man is our killer, we are in a very dangerous situation.
You don't have to worry about me.
Oh, thanks, Gwen.
Thank you.
Gwen put some aside for me.
What is it with you and women?
Just don't put yourself at any unnecessary risk, OK?
We're here to catch the murderer, not offer him another victim.
-Anything you can do...
-This is not a competition.
You don't have to prove yourself to me, or anybody in this station.
What is wrong with you today?
Do you want the honest answer?
I'm bloody sick of 1973.
Well, don't worry, it'll be 1974 soon.
-You know, where I'm from...
-Hyde.
Yes.
Hyde.
People love me, you know.
They don't want anything from me, they don't want to fight me.
They just love me.
If they're still there.
Oh, never mind.
There's always Gwen.
How's the, er...
treacle sponge, sir?
It's magnificent.
-Mint custard?
-Yes, it's a triumph.
There's a woman to see you.
I put her in the lost property room.
-Who is it?
-Mrs Edith Williams.
She says her daughter's gone missing.
When did you last see Denise, Mrs Williams?
Two days ago.
She was meant to come over for her tea, but never did.
-Did you phone her?
-Mm.
She's a good girl.
She always keeps in touch.
-I wouldn't bother you otherwise.
-It's no bother, Mrs Williams.
Then I read about the dead girl in the paper and that maybe you'd arrested the wrong man all them years ago.
-I met your daughter, Mrs Williams.
-Oh, she's lovely, isn't she?
She is.
Is she in trouble?
We think she might be, yeah.
-Is she dead?
-We've no reason to believe that.
I'm going to make it my personal duty to find her.
OK, remember, listen out for anything that will help us find Denise.
-Let's just hope we're not too late.
-OK, sir.
You hear me say, "Santana" and we're out of here.
You follow me out, no questions, we just leave, OK?
Hope you've got clean Y-fronts on, sir.
I'm serious.
One word from me and we're out of here.
We go to Spain every summer.
Benidorm.
It's beautiful.
Have you ever been to Spain, Mr Blair?
Please, call me Tony.
Only to Barcelona.
I went to see the Gaud�s.
A man of culture.
How exciting.
-Do you like travel, Cherie?
-Oh, I love to lay in the sunshine.
Erm...
I let Tony do the galleries and the churches and I just lay on my back in the sun.
Time for dessert, I think.
So, Roger, how's business?
Oh, these are difficult times for all of us.
The TUC have Heath on the rack and are trying to destroy us all.
But it'll never happen.
I've got a cousin who works at Conservative Central Office and he told me that if Wilson gets back in, there's a secret plan for the armed forces to oust him and put Mountbatten in as head of state.
-Good man, Mountbatten.
-No politics at table.
Now, we have Black Forest gateau and raspberry pavlova.
Delicious.
Thank you very much.
Right, boys and girls.
Let's get this down us and get on with the entertainment, eh?
-Do you think Denise is here?
-Don't know.
Don't do anything you don't want to do.
OK.
Right.
I hope everyone's nice and relaxed.
Gentlemen?
Ladies?
I know I don't need to say this, but it's just a reminder.
Whatever happens within these walls stays within these walls.
Is that clear?
Your keys, gentlemen, please.
Very nice.
Lovely.
Don't be shy, Cherie.
Evening, all.
-See you started without us.
-Who the hell are you?
Didn't you tell 'em we were coming?
I thought you'd chickened out.
Roger, this is my friend, Gordon...
Brown.
And his...
wife.
Suki.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
This is an invite-only party.
He invited me.
I...
I'm sorry.
Sorry, Roger.
I, er...
Gordon's a good friend.
I got overexcited, I must have let it slip.
I love a party.
I'm very discreet.
This is my house, Tony.
I decide who gets invited.
I understand that.
I'm...
I'm sorry.
We should go.
If you go, you go without me.
I'm enjoying myself.
I think Mr Brown should be allowed to stay.
Thank you, er...
Mrs?
Mrs Luckhurst.
Hm.
Right.
You four stay here.
We'll discuss this in the kitchen.
What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?
Your stupid radio stopped working, so I had to find out what was happening in here.
-Who's she?
-Suki.
I let her off an arrest last week for lewd behaviour.
She owed me.
-She's a prostitute.
-I am here, you know.
Well, you didn't think I'd fetch me own wife here, did you?
OK.
This is getting out of hand.
You were right.
We should just pull him in.
No.
He's going to give himself away, I know he is.
Good girl, Cartwright.
At least somebody's got some balls.
Mr Brown?
Your keys.
Come on.
Better than "Mr & Mrs", this.
Luckhurst by name, luck by nature.
God, we're not going to end up with our own bloody wives, are we?
Good girl.
I guess that just leaves you and me, Tony.
You were right about the future, Tony.
Bloody marvellous.
You haven't done this before, have you?
How can you tell?
Don't worry.
You start out shy and nervous, but you'll be a greedy monster in no time.
Greedy monster?
Well, I remember my first time and I looked just like you.
So was this all your husband's idea?
What makes you say that?
Well, he seems to be a very...
forceful man.
He's a remarkable man.
So I take it you enjoy it, then?
I knew you'd take your socks off first.
You're a classy man, Tony Blair.
Do things ever get a bit...
you know...
frisky?
-Frisky?
-Spanking, bondage...
you know?
Violent, you mean?
Well, it must be difficult sometimes to keep things under control.
When people get excited.
Is that what turns you on?
It's my wife's first time, too, so...
you know, she won't want to be hurt.
Oh, well, then she won't be.
My husband respects people's limits.
Don't you ever get jealous, thinking about your husband with other women?
Younger women?
Your concept of marriage is a bit bourgeois, Tony.
Don't you ever worry that one of you would fall in love with someone else?
Falling in love isn't allowed, I'm afraid.
Er...
that's Mrs Luckhurst.
Your friend's never going to see life in quite the same way again.
Kiss me.
Stay down!
Go on!
Stay down there where you belong!
-Annie?
Annie!
-Annie?
-Santana!
-Where is she?
In here.
-Police.
Don't mo...
-What the hell?
-Are you all right?
-We're pulling you in.
Get up.
I had him talking.
He was telling me girls' names.
Nice act, little girl.
Now, THAT is the future of policing.
Tell us about Denise Williams.
We know she attended one of your parties and we know she's now missing.
Perhaps you didn't hear the answer to your previous questions.
My client has no comment.
What about Sandra Trotman?
Another Beauvoir Lady.
Murdered.
No comment.
Don't push me, boys.
I feel the need to expend some frustrated energy.
Are you threatening us, DCI Hunt?
We know you had a Beauvoir Lady uniform in your possession.
And we heard you on our short-wave radio...
Only after you committed a civil offence of trespass.
...talking about "some bloody tart hassling me again".
Who was that girl, Twilling?
Was that Denise Williams?
No comment.
I don't know what happened, Roger.
Maybe a bit of play got out of hand, but you murdered Sandra Trotman.
You bashed her head on the pavement and dumped her body.
No comment.
You have a predilection for sexual violence, don't you?
In his own home, with consenting adults, three of whom were members of the Manchester Constabulary.
-If that gets in the papers...
-Into the papers?
It'll be on the front of every newspaper in the world, if you persist in persecuting my client in this way.
Where is she, Carol?
-I want to see my husband.
-Where's Denise?
Or if she's dead, then tell me where the body is.
She has a mother who's worried sick.
Don't make this any worse than it is.
If you have it in you to let this woman live, then...
If you're not going to arrest me, can I go home, please?
You were quite happy with a normal marriage, weren't you?
You love your husband and I understand you want to protect him.
But this is murder.
Roger isn't capable of murder.
Please...
can we go home now?
-Thanks very much.
-Bye, then.
-Anything?
-Some gorgeous birds, boss.
-I'm not in the mood, Chris.
-Nothing, sir.
Auntie Heather.
Heather?
Are you talking to me?
-Heather?
-Yes?
Do I know you?
You probably won't recognise me, but...
Oh, Heather, it's so good to see you.
Don't touch me.
Um...
Look, I want you to know that we're doing all we can.
I will find him, so...
you know, you'll be safe.
What is wrong with you people?
Steady on, love.
This is a DI you're talking to here.
Little Sammy.
Do you remember little Sammy?
He's your favourite.
Time for a beer, sir.
Don't try your lame lines on me.
Go and find Denise.
Bloody smug bastard.
You should have let me have a pop at him.
I've done something which may be illegal, but I didn't think.
I just saw the car and did it.
But now...
-What is it?
-Untwist your knickers, love.
When we arrested the Twillings, I put a radio transmitter in his car, under the passenger seat.
Look, I promise I won't say anything.
Please, please don't hurt me.
-Where's your car, Twilling?
-My what?
Your car, sir.
-Where's Denise Williams?
-I don't know.
I'll ask you again.
Where is Denise Williams?
Guv.
I really don't know.
I...
I roughed her up a bit 'cause she kept hassling me about Sandra.
-So you killed Sandra Trotman?
-No.
I loved her.
We had an affair and then Carol found out.
-"Falling in love is not allowed."
-You what?
Please don't do this...
Wait.
Can't we talk?
Shut up and walk.
-Carol.
-Where would she take her?
I don't know.
-They're leaving the car.
-Please don't hurt me!
Shitbloodyshit.
Bugger.
Arsehole!
The lady with the make-up.
Where is she?
It's OK.
There's nothing more stupid than a man who thinks he knows everything.
I think she's talking about you, Sammy boy.
You OK?
It's all right.
You took your time, copper.
How did it go with Mrs Luckhurst?
Cartwright, you did well today.
I'll allow you to buy me a whisky chaser.
Sir.
Guv.
Mrs Luckhurst?
I don't want to talk about her.
All right, all I will say is this.
Know that bloke in the Bible who wanted to stuff a camel through the eye of a needle?
-That would be Jesus.
-Yeah.
Well, he had nothing on Mrs Luckhurst.
Guv?
-Good night.
-Good night.
Boss?
-Thanks, boss.
-What for?
I had a date with that bird last night.
Oh.
How did it go?
It was, er...
it was very nice.
Good.
Nice is good.
Annie?
Sir?
Er...
the Guv was right, you know.
You did well.
Well, I learnt from the best.
Listen, can I walk you home?
Oh, I'm going this way.
Meeting a bunch of mates.
Right.
You can come with us, if you like.
No, no, it's OK.
I'm, er...
I'm hoping to meet a...
see someone myself tonight, so...
Well, good for you, sir.
-Night, Annie.
-Good night, Sam.
If you could hear him above the screams... "
Twelfth Of Never".
Let's hope it's sooner than that before we see you up and at 'em again, Sam.
Maybe you can't even hear me.
Well, you don't need to hear my voice to know I'm always here for you.
You've always been my favourite nephew, Sam.
It breaks my heart to see you like this.
Remember, your Auntie Heather will always be here for you.
Now, from one lovely boy to another...
it's Gilbert O'Sullivan and "Alone Again (Naturally)"
It's your Auntie Heather.
Now then, who's my lovely boy, eh?
Oh, you poor little love.
You'll be better soon.
D'you know, it breaks my heart to see you like this.
Remember, your Auntie Heather will always be here for you.
You've always been my favourite nephew, Sam.
Somebody, please...
Oh.
come on.
Don't do this to me.
Talk to me, somebody, please.
My name is Sam Tyler.
I had an accident and I woke up in 1973.
Am I mad, in a coma, or back in time?
Whatever's happened, it's like I've landed on a different planet.
Now, maybe if I can work out the reason, I can get home.
Nice day for it.
-Woman in her twenties.
-Dead.
Well, I didn't think she was sunbathing, did I?
Who found her?
-That foul-mouthed inbred there.
-Wanker.
Shitbloodyshit.
-Shitwomandead.
Bugger.
Arsehole.
-Charming.
She's not an inbred.
She's probably got Tourette's.
They were playing doctors and nurses and found the real thing.
-Any signs of sexual assault?
-It's hard to tell, really, Guv.
-She's still got her knickers on.
-Christ's sake, Chris!
She's somebody's daughter.
What's that smell?
Dog shit everywhere round here, boss.
No, it's...
So what can you tell from sniffing the victim's hair, DI Tyler?
-Nothing.
It's just...
-We should get her to the morgue.
Then we could all have a good sniff away from prying eyes!
So where'd you meet her?
At the ice rink.
I skated over her thumb.
Take my advice: get a pint of Pernod and black down her, do what you like to her after that.
What are you hoping for?
Upstairs inside?
Don't really know, Guv.
It's got to be inside downstairs, Guv.
What, the first date?
She's not a prossie.
Is she?
No.
No, first date, upstairs inside.
He's not going to marry her.
What's the matter with you?
Cause of death would appear to be a blow to the head, possibly struck against a wall or a kerb.
-Raped?
-Hard to say.
There's evidence of rough sexual intercourse, but nothing to say forced entry.
Would you stop sniffing that poor woman?
She's wearing a very distinctive perfume.
There was one thing that might interest you, DCI Hunt.
-What?
-La fleur de mort.
I once hit a bloke for speaking French.
The flower of death.
I don't believe you.
I had a job getting her fingers open due to the advanced rigor mortis.
But there was a little gift waiting for me.
Five years ago, this was a frightened city.
Five women raped and murdered.
They called him Manc the Knife.
We took a lot of stick, me more than anyone.
-But we caught him.
Terence Finn.
-Yeah, right little pervert.
He was sent down for life and the city breathed again.
Terence Finn died in prison two years ago and not a single tear was shed.
-Annie?
What's happened?
-We were arresting this suspect.
He were a little lad, but he were too strong for Cartwright.
Felt her tits and legged it off down the street.
Yeah, well, he took me by surprise.
-You OK?
-I told you this'd happen.
Fine behind a desk, shit on the streets.
I am talking here!
Right.
Each of the victims had a crushed red geranium in her hand.
Like a calling card.
Well, this morning, the body of a young woman was found.
She had a crushed red geranium in her hand.
So what are you saying?
We might have banged up the wrong bloke.
Don't get me wrong.
Finn was a scrotum.
I don't give a toss.
If we did get it wrong, I want this man caught before he kills again.
This is my city and it will be safe for my wife and my mum to walk around in.
-Is that understood?
-Yes, Guv.
Find who the dead woman was, find out who killed her.
Do it now.
Hold up.
Do it tomorrow morning, first thing.
-Beer o'clock, gentlemen.
-Yeah!
-You OK?
-Fine, thank you, sir.
Buy you a drink?
-No, thank you.
-At least let me walk you home.
Why would I want you to walk me home?
You heard what the Guv said.
There might be a killer on the loose.
Well, are you walking Chris and Ray home?
I don't need your help.
I can walk myself home, sir.
Stay the hell away!
Are you OK?
Yeah, I'm all right, er...
I'm all right.
-Who was driving?
-I don't know.
Look, I'm a police officer.
Who was driving that car?
He just pulled up.
Asked if I wanted a lift.
So you got in the car.
Not very sensible, is it?
-What did he look like?
-Don't know.
Er...
Ordinary.
Average.
You've got lovely hands.
Are you sure you're a copper?
Is that your perfume?
Could be the bins.
Look...
this is serious.
OK?
I'll get us another drink.
There you go, love.
Thanks.
-A Beauvoir Lady?
-I recognised the victim's perfume.
My auntie was a Beauvoir Lady.
She smelt exactly the same.
Her and a thousand other women.
Telephone all the Beauvoir Ladies in Manchester, I guarantee you will find one of them missing.
There was no connection to Beauvoir Ladies five years ago.
-Maybe you missed something.
-Maybe we did.
Just let me do this.
If nothing comes of it, I won't mention it again.
Two hours.
Nobody's done anything wrong.
We just wondered if you had noticed anything unusual.
-Just checking the whereabouts...
-How did it go?
Good.
It'll take me ages to get through this lot.
Don't tell me.
Upstairs outside and you got a slap?
You found my killer yet?
-No, not yet.
-You've got 20 minutes.
Hey, Chris, how was your hot date?
Downstairs outside?
No.
No, I won't be seeing her again.
Never mind, son.
Plenty more slags in the sea.
Just took a call from a man worried about his wife.
Hasn't seen for her 24 hours.
Her name's Sandra Trotman.
She's a Beauvoir Lady.
Our house was always full of women, especially after Dad left.
Me Auntie Heather came over all the time.
She's one of those people that...
as soon as she walks into a room, the world's a better place.
What are you doing?
I miss her.
I miss all of them.
Is this what we're here for, sir?
-Denise.
-Piss off.
Just want to talk to you.
Leave her alone!
Get off me!
Easy, easy.
Why don't you just leave me alone?
We can't do that, Denise.
I have to know who pushed you out of the car, Denise.
I've told you.
I don't know.
A woman died, you know.
She was murdered.
I'm sorry about that, but it's nothing to do with me.
Why are you lying?
Who are you trying to protect?
If I knew him I'd say, wouldn't I?
Did you know the dead girl, Denise?
She was a Beauvoir Lady, too.
Sandra Trotman.
Did you ever work with her?
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God...
Here, drink this, Denise.
I'm sorry, I have to ask you these questions.
Just take your time.
I told Sandra he was bad news.
He...
he runs these parties.
You know, er...
car-keys-on-the-table stuff.
What do you do at these parties?
Serve drinks and stuff in stupid togas.
If one of the blokes didn't fancy the wife he'd been given, then...
then we'd help out.
And Sandra worked these parties with you?
Yeah, the bloke seemed really fond of her.
But almost too fond, you know?
When she didn't ring for a few days, I asked him if he'd seen her.
And that's when he threw you out of the car?
He's a powerful man.
He knows all sorts.
Masons, coppers...
-Who is he?
-If he killed Sandra...
...he'd kill any one of us.
-I need his name, Denise.
Roger Twilling.
44 years old, successful businessman.
Very popular in the business community.
Gives a lot to charity.
I hate people who give to charity.
Lives in Chorlton, where he holds discreet sex parties.
So what happens at these parties?
Well, if you're invited, and he's very fussy who he invites, you all put your car keys in a bowl.
The wives pull out a key.
Really?
What, in Chorlton?
Are you taking this seriously, Guv?
The bloke who murdered those women was brutal, Sam.
Vicious, clever.
-Led me a right merry little dance.
-So let's get him.
The one thing he wasn't was a prat selling overpriced motors.
Well, he's our only lead.
We know one of the victims knew him, possibly intimately.
And we know he's into holding these discreet sex parties.
Hey.
Hang on.
Over there.
Red Lotus.
Denise Williams was thrown out of that car by that man.
So?
He pushed a bird out of a car.
Doesn't make him a bad bloke.
Oh, pull him in, then.
I'll dance the fandango on his head.
He's too clever for that.
How do we get to him, then, Gladys?
It's called surveillance.
-Doesn't sound very manly.
-Manly?
Well, it's not proper police work, is it, spying on people?
I did what you said.
I got a whole load of Pernod and black down her.
-What happened?
-It's the future.
One day, the vast majority of police work will be surveillance.
Gathering information, feeding that information into computers...
I hope I'm dead by the time that happens.
I shouldn't worry too much about that.
Come on.
What happened?
I had a few drinks meself, otherwise it would have been suspicious.
So I've got me hand on her tits, outside upstairs.
-Good boy.
-There isn't a human rights law -restricting unauthorised...
-Would you shut up?
This is making me quite randy.
Well, I went to kiss her and, er...
...it all came out.
What did?
You were sick on her?
Over her face and mouth.
Oh, Chris.
I'm off.
Oh, dear.
Chris, you are a boy.
-Hello?
-Hello.
Hello?
-Auntie Heather.
-I'm sorry, love, wrong number.
Come on.
Talk to me, somebody.
Don't you dare leave me here on my own.
-Boss?
-Chris.
Really interesting stuff, boss, surveillance.
It's cutting-edge.
Thanks, Chris.
Can I help you?
Yeah.
Um...
You know that bird I was dating?
The one you sicked up Pernod and black on?
Yeah.
Well, she's given me another chance.
Blimey.
Good for you.
I was just wondering if you could give me a few pointers, you know, 'cause...
well, women like you.
Er...
I'm a bit busy trying to catch a murderer at the moment, Chris.
Look, just...
be yourself.
You know?
Relax.
Act like you're down the pub with Ray.
What, light me farts?
No, no.
I was only joking.
Go on.
Well, you know, she's a human being, just like you.
She'll be nervous, she wants to be liked, same as you.
Be kind.
Show her some respect.
You were right, boss.
Works a treat.
You people are sick.
Y...
yeah, yeah.
Come on.
Let's show some respect here.
What?
What is it?
The pathologist from the original murders.
Stuart Bator.
Ah, Master Bator.
Remember him well.
What about him?
-He moved, to Brighton.
-Foolish, but not illegal.
Bator was in the market for a second-hand car.
He bought the car from Roger Twilling.
-Go on.
-They become very good friends.
Bator get pissed at the golf club, tells Twilling about the Flower of Death.
You got the right man before, Guv.
This is a copycat killing.
When Twilling murdered Sandra Trotman, he remembered what Bator had told him and used the red geranium to throw us off the scent.
Twilling thinks he's above us, Guv.
He thinks he's untouchable.
He'll rue the day he decided to play copycat with Gene Hunt.
I want him, Sam.
Hurry up, boss.
It's freezing out here.
I don't like this.
Gene Hunt smashes doors down.
He does not pick girly locks.
We can't just pull him in.
He's too clever for that.
At least this way we get hard evidence.
I'll be the laughing stock of the Lancashire police dinner and dance.
Believe it or not, Guv, one day soon something like this will bring down Richard Nixon.
Hard to believe.
Chris, this is serious.
Sorry, boss.
-Where do you want the transmitter?
-Up here.
Chris?
Bend down.
-What for?
-Just do it.
All right.
Up.
Hold still.
-The law, the law!
-Get down, you div!
We ARE the law, you bloody clowns.
God help us.
Sorry.
What have you been eating?
Pedigree Chum?
We don't all have to be in here.
If this is the future, Gladys, we want to learn from the master.
A bird's just gone in.
Could be his missus.
-How was it?
-Not bad.
Wouldn't Nixon notice a van parked outside the White House?
-Shhh.
-I spoke to Barbara earlier.
She said do we want to play doubles at Hanningtons later?
Could do.
Are they coming to the next party?
Maybe we should ease back on the parties, Roger.
-We are not discussing this, Carol.
-Sorry.
-So, are they coming?
-Oh, try and stop them.
Barbara said Trevor learnt things from Mrs Luckhurst that would be illegal in some parts of Wales.
Good girl.
Bloody hell.
That was getting good.
That bloody tart's been hassling me again.
-Ignore her.
-He means Denise.
I don't know anything about her poxy friend.
Turn it down, it's hurting me ears!
Missed it.
-What's Hanningtons?
-It's a tennis club in Chorlton.
Murderers do not play tennis.
Well, this one does.
What about Bator?
Let's have him arrested and shipped up to me.
-Can't do that, Guv.
-Why not?
-He died of cancer last year.
-Damn the man.
But I have another idea.
So we met on the canal footpath.
Spring, 1970.
I was Ionely, I was...
you know, wondering if I'd ever find "her".
-Her?
-Yeah, the one.
You know, the one we're all searching for.
Me dog was struggling.
Thought it was going to drown.
-Terrier.
-Airedale terrier.
You jumped in and saved him.
You were my hero.
-Sure you want to do this?
-We were married a year later.
-Might get a bit dangerous.
-You were never Ionely again.
Annie.
We had a lovely honeymoon in Blackpool.
I was so surprised you were still a virgin.
My husband and I only joined last week.
Everyone's been very friendly.
Pretty lady like you, why wouldn't they be friendly?
I bet you say that to all the girls.
Only the attractive ones.
Does your wife know you're such a flirt?
You can ask her yourself.
Darling, this is, um?
-Cherie.
-Is my husband pestering you?
Oh, he's being very flattering.
-You here alone?
-My husband's here somewhere...
Darling.
Meet Roger and Carol.
Hi.
Tony Blair.
-How do you do?
-Hello.
-So, I hear you're new to the area.
-Yeah, it seems very nice.
It is nice.
Good people.
-Don't need a new car, do you, Tony?
-Roger sells cars.
Luxury cars.
What is it you drive?
Rover, P6.
V8.
-Excellent.
Happy with it?
-Very.
Boys and their cars.
Listen, can I be really, really forward?
-Oh, I love forward women.
-Roger, behave.
Sorry, what were you going to say?
Well, it's just we're new to Chorlton and we don't really know anyone yet.
Why don't we all go out for dinner one night?
I think we can do better than that.
We're having a few friends over at our place tonight.
-Tonight?
-Oh, nothing fancy.
Just some nicely chilled Blue Nun and a few vol-au-vents.
-Er...
maybe some other...
-We'd love to.
Yeah.
Just have a quick knock-up here first and work up a sweat, then we'll come right over.
-Yeah, OK.
-That's settled.
Terrific.
Some nicely chilled Blue Nun and some vol-au-vents.
This is Manc the Knife, is it?
There's something about him.
It's his eyes.
-He invited us to drinks tonight.
-So I heard.
Don't like it, Sam.
Skulking about in a van.
This might be the only chance we get.
-Evidence, you said.
-What's a vol-au-vent?
Got no bugs in his house, we can't hear anything.
Nothing is going to happen.
It's just drinks, not one of those parties.
It's a puff-pastry shell, filled with a savoury meat mixture.
-What if it gets out of hand?
-I won't let it.
Please, sir.
I think we're getting somewhere here.
You mean a pie, then?
Absolutely ravishing.
-Thanks, Rog.
It's a lovely drop.
-Frisky, isn't it?
-It is.
-Pert and frisky.
-Lovely, Roger.
-Here, I'll take that.
I've got a case of this...
Have something to eat, you two.
Now, there's sausage rolls, vol-au-vents and a hedgehog.
-Hedgehog?
-It's not a real hedgehog, silly.
It's pineapple, cheese, silver onion on a stick.
Mm.
Delicious.
Carol.
Hungry people over here.
Yes, dear.
I think that was a real hedgehog.
Behave.
Now what do we do?
-Does everybody like Santana?
-Oh, God.
God, I love Santana.
Try and get in conversation with Twilling.
-I'm going to take a look around.
-OK.
-Be careful.
-I will.
Darling.
-Lucky man.
-Oh, hello.
Thank you so much for inviting us.
Oh, we're always looking for new friends.
Of the right sort, if you understand what I'm saying.
Right sort?
Well, the world is changing, Tony.
My father thought he was lucky with a semi-detached and a packet of Woodbines.
But I want more out of life than that.
Fine wine.
Good food.
Hm.
More even than that.
But to get real pleasure, you need to have the courage to be different.
Don't you agree, Tony?
Yeah.
Actually, I do.
Cherie?
Oh, well, I just sort of do what I'm told.
Nothing wrong with that.
If you'll excuse me.
-Little boys' room.
-Oh, I'll keep her warm for you.
Hi.
Can I help you?
-I was looking for the bathroom.
-And does this look like a bathroom?
Truth?
I was looking for you.
For me?
You're a very attractive woman.
You have a very beautiful wife.
Yes, I do.
Well, my husband wouldn't like you being in here.
Please.
Oh, here he is.
She was fretting about you.
I was not.
I've been well entertained.
-We should go.
-Nonsense, you've only just arrived.
Well, I've got an early start tomorrow, so, er...
Roger's just been telling me about these amazing parties they have here.
Oh?
Well, only for the select few, if you understand what I'm saying.
Oh, I think we all understand each other.
Shall we come to your party, Carol?
I'll look forward to it.
If we're right and this man is our killer, we are in a very dangerous situation.
You don't have to worry about me.
Oh, thanks, Gwen.
Thank you.
Gwen put some aside for me.
What is it with you and women?
Just don't put yourself at any unnecessary risk, OK?
We're here to catch the murderer, not offer him another victim.
-Anything you can do...
-This is not a competition.
You don't have to prove yourself to me, or anybody in this station.
What is wrong with you today?
Do you want the honest answer?
I'm bloody sick of 1973.
Well, don't worry, it'll be 1974 soon.
-You know, where I'm from...
-Hyde.
Yes.
Hyde.
People love me, you know.
They don't want anything from me, they don't want to fight me.
They just love me.
If they're still there.
Oh, never mind.
There's always Gwen.
How's the, er...
treacle sponge, sir?
It's magnificent.
-Mint custard?
-Yes, it's a triumph.
There's a woman to see you.
I put her in the lost property room.
-Who is it?
-Mrs Edith Williams.
She says her daughter's gone missing.
When did you last see Denise, Mrs Williams?
Two days ago.
She was meant to come over for her tea, but never did.
-Did you phone her?
-Mm.
She's a good girl.
She always keeps in touch.
-I wouldn't bother you otherwise.
-It's no bother, Mrs Williams.
Then I read about the dead girl in the paper and that maybe you'd arrested the wrong man all them years ago.
-I met your daughter, Mrs Williams.
-Oh, she's lovely, isn't she?
She is.
Is she in trouble?
We think she might be, yeah.
-Is she dead?
-We've no reason to believe that.
I'm going to make it my personal duty to find her.
OK, remember, listen out for anything that will help us find Denise.
-Let's just hope we're not too late.
-OK, sir.
You hear me say, "Santana" and we're out of here.
You follow me out, no questions, we just leave, OK?
Hope you've got clean Y-fronts on, sir.
I'm serious.
One word from me and we're out of here.
We go to Spain every summer.
Benidorm.
It's beautiful.
Have you ever been to Spain, Mr Blair?
Please, call me Tony.
Only to Barcelona.
I went to see the Gaud�s.
A man of culture.
How exciting.
-Do you like travel, Cherie?
-Oh, I love to lay in the sunshine.
Erm...
I let Tony do the galleries and the churches and I just lay on my back in the sun.
Time for dessert, I think.
So, Roger, how's business?
Oh, these are difficult times for all of us.
The TUC have Heath on the rack and are trying to destroy us all.
But it'll never happen.
I've got a cousin who works at Conservative Central Office and he told me that if Wilson gets back in, there's a secret plan for the armed forces to oust him and put Mountbatten in as head of state.
-Good man, Mountbatten.
-No politics at table.
Now, we have Black Forest gateau and raspberry pavlova.
Delicious.
Thank you very much.
Right, boys and girls.
Let's get this down us and get on with the entertainment, eh?
-Do you think Denise is here?
-Don't know.
Don't do anything you don't want to do.
OK.
Right.
I hope everyone's nice and relaxed.
Gentlemen?
Ladies?
I know I don't need to say this, but it's just a reminder.
Whatever happens within these walls stays within these walls.
Is that clear?
Your keys, gentlemen, please.
Very nice.
Lovely.
Don't be shy, Cherie.
Evening, all.
-See you started without us.
-Who the hell are you?
Didn't you tell 'em we were coming?
I thought you'd chickened out.
Roger, this is my friend, Gordon...
Brown.
And his...
wife.
Suki.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
This is an invite-only party.
He invited me.
I...
I'm sorry.
Sorry, Roger.
I, er...
Gordon's a good friend.
I got overexcited, I must have let it slip.
I love a party.
I'm very discreet.
This is my house, Tony.
I decide who gets invited.
I understand that.
I'm...
I'm sorry.
We should go.
If you go, you go without me.
I'm enjoying myself.
I think Mr Brown should be allowed to stay.
Thank you, er...
Mrs?
Mrs Luckhurst.
Hm.
Right.
You four stay here.
We'll discuss this in the kitchen.
What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?
Your stupid radio stopped working, so I had to find out what was happening in here.
-Who's she?
-Suki.
I let her off an arrest last week for lewd behaviour.
She owed me.
-She's a prostitute.
-I am here, you know.
Well, you didn't think I'd fetch me own wife here, did you?
OK.
This is getting out of hand.
You were right.
We should just pull him in.
No.
He's going to give himself away, I know he is.
Good girl, Cartwright.
At least somebody's got some balls.
Mr Brown?
Your keys.
Come on.
Better than "Mr & Mrs", this.
Luckhurst by name, luck by nature.
God, we're not going to end up with our own bloody wives, are we?
Good girl.
I guess that just leaves you and me, Tony.
You were right about the future, Tony.
Bloody marvellous.
You haven't done this before, have you?
How can you tell?
Don't worry.
You start out shy and nervous, but you'll be a greedy monster in no time.
Greedy monster?
Well, I remember my first time and I looked just like you.
So was this all your husband's idea?
What makes you say that?
Well, he seems to be a very...
forceful man.
He's a remarkable man.
So I take it you enjoy it, then?
I knew you'd take your socks off first.
You're a classy man, Tony Blair.
Do things ever get a bit...
you know...
frisky?
-Frisky?
-Spanking, bondage...
you know?
Violent, you mean?
Well, it must be difficult sometimes to keep things under control.
When people get excited.
Is that what turns you on?
It's my wife's first time, too, so...
you know, she won't want to be hurt.
Oh, well, then she won't be.
My husband respects people's limits.
Don't you ever get jealous, thinking about your husband with other women?
Younger women?
Your concept of marriage is a bit bourgeois, Tony.
Don't you ever worry that one of you would fall in love with someone else?
Falling in love isn't allowed, I'm afraid.
Er...
that's Mrs Luckhurst.
Your friend's never going to see life in quite the same way again.
Kiss me.
Stay down!
Go on!
Stay down there where you belong!
-Annie?
Annie!
-Annie?
-Santana!
-Where is she?
In here.
-Police.
Don't mo...
-What the hell?
-Are you all right?
-We're pulling you in.
Get up.
I had him talking.
He was telling me girls' names.
Nice act, little girl.
Now, THAT is the future of policing.
Tell us about Denise Williams.
We know she attended one of your parties and we know she's now missing.
Perhaps you didn't hear the answer to your previous questions.
My client has no comment.
What about Sandra Trotman?
Another Beauvoir Lady.
Murdered.
No comment.
Don't push me, boys.
I feel the need to expend some frustrated energy.
Are you threatening us, DCI Hunt?
We know you had a Beauvoir Lady uniform in your possession.
And we heard you on our short-wave radio...
Only after you committed a civil offence of trespass.
...talking about "some bloody tart hassling me again".
Who was that girl, Twilling?
Was that Denise Williams?
No comment.
I don't know what happened, Roger.
Maybe a bit of play got out of hand, but you murdered Sandra Trotman.
You bashed her head on the pavement and dumped her body.
No comment.
You have a predilection for sexual violence, don't you?
In his own home, with consenting adults, three of whom were members of the Manchester Constabulary.
-If that gets in the papers...
-Into the papers?
It'll be on the front of every newspaper in the world, if you persist in persecuting my client in this way.
Where is she, Carol?
-I want to see my husband.
-Where's Denise?
Or if she's dead, then tell me where the body is.
She has a mother who's worried sick.
Don't make this any worse than it is.
If you have it in you to let this woman live, then...
If you're not going to arrest me, can I go home, please?
You were quite happy with a normal marriage, weren't you?
You love your husband and I understand you want to protect him.
But this is murder.
Roger isn't capable of murder.
Please...
can we go home now?
-Thanks very much.
-Bye, then.
-Anything?
-Some gorgeous birds, boss.
-I'm not in the mood, Chris.
-Nothing, sir.
Auntie Heather.
Heather?
Are you talking to me?
-Heather?
-Yes?
Do I know you?
You probably won't recognise me, but...
Oh, Heather, it's so good to see you.
Don't touch me.
Um...
Look, I want you to know that we're doing all we can.
I will find him, so...
you know, you'll be safe.
What is wrong with you people?
Steady on, love.
This is a DI you're talking to here.
Little Sammy.
Do you remember little Sammy?
He's your favourite.
Time for a beer, sir.
Don't try your lame lines on me.
Go and find Denise.
Bloody smug bastard.
You should have let me have a pop at him.
I've done something which may be illegal, but I didn't think.
I just saw the car and did it.
But now...
-What is it?
-Untwist your knickers, love.
When we arrested the Twillings, I put a radio transmitter in his car, under the passenger seat.
Look, I promise I won't say anything.
Please, please don't hurt me.
-Where's your car, Twilling?
-My what?
Your car, sir.
-Where's Denise Williams?
-I don't know.
I'll ask you again.
Where is Denise Williams?
Guv.
I really don't know.
I...
I roughed her up a bit 'cause she kept hassling me about Sandra.
-So you killed Sandra Trotman?
-No.
I loved her.
We had an affair and then Carol found out.
-"Falling in love is not allowed."
-You what?
Please don't do this...
Wait.
Can't we talk?
Shut up and walk.
-Carol.
-Where would she take her?
I don't know.
-They're leaving the car.
-Please don't hurt me!
Shitbloodyshit.
Bugger.
Arsehole!
The lady with the make-up.
Where is she?
It's OK.
There's nothing more stupid than a man who thinks he knows everything.
I think she's talking about you, Sammy boy.
You OK?
It's all right.
You took your time, copper.
How did it go with Mrs Luckhurst?
Cartwright, you did well today.
I'll allow you to buy me a whisky chaser.
Sir.
Guv.
Mrs Luckhurst?
I don't want to talk about her.
All right, all I will say is this.
Know that bloke in the Bible who wanted to stuff a camel through the eye of a needle?
-That would be Jesus.
-Yeah.
Well, he had nothing on Mrs Luckhurst.
Guv?
-Good night.
-Good night.
Boss?
-Thanks, boss.
-What for?
I had a date with that bird last night.
Oh.
How did it go?
It was, er...
it was very nice.
Good.
Nice is good.
Annie?
Sir?
Er...
the Guv was right, you know.
You did well.
Well, I learnt from the best.
Listen, can I walk you home?
Oh, I'm going this way.
Meeting a bunch of mates.
Right.
You can come with us, if you like.
No, no, it's OK.
I'm, er...
I'm hoping to meet a...
see someone myself tonight, so...
Well, good for you, sir.
-Night, Annie.
-Good night, Sam.
If you could hear him above the screams... "
Twelfth Of Never".
Let's hope it's sooner than that before we see you up and at 'em again, Sam.
Maybe you can't even hear me.
Well, you don't need to hear my voice to know I'm always here for you.
You've always been my favourite nephew, Sam.
It breaks my heart to see you like this.
Remember, your Auntie Heather will always be here for you.
Now, from one lovely boy to another...
it's Gilbert O'Sullivan and "Alone Again (Naturally)"