01x04 - Episode 4

[bunniefuu]

On answering machine: Hello, this is Caroline Carey. Please leave a message.

Liz: (ON PHONE) Caroline, it's Liz. 5:35 a.m.

Please don't use the Richard story. Call me. It's urgent.

It's Liz again. 6:05.

If you value your contacts here, I urge you to think long and hard about what this story could do. We could talk about other options.

Charles: Right, shall we begin without him?

What's the latest on the coffee shop bomber?

Sharon: We've got hold of some decent CCTV images.

Er...

I think we should release them to the press.

Liz, can we?

Charles: SO15 need 12 to 20 more hours to work on the phone analysis.

Why give the maniac a head start?

Sharon: Because we could get us a positive ID in 20 minutes, not 20 hours, in time to stop him detonating another device and k*lling someone this time.

A grainy photo of man in coffee shop?

The only person who will ID that is the bomber, and he won't be calling Crime Stoppers, will he?

Hello?

He'll accelerate his bombing campaign or just disappear.

Yes it is.

Well, I think we'll need to wait for the Commissioner's view.

What if the Commissioner's view is...

Tom: Oh, no.

..."Why did you sit around on your arses waiting for me?"

Tom: I see.

Thank you.

What is it?

It's... Richard.

He's been... They're saying he's been found.

Liz: Where?

In the Thames.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Finn: I mean, I...

I just can't believe...

Was there a note?

Nothing on the body.

Do we have a time?

I don't think the post mortem's been...

Well, it needs to be.

I'll get on to them.

sh*t.

Sharon: Who's gonna handle the investigation if it turns out...

If there was foul play?

Charles: What are the lines of enquiry? Republican dissidents?

Any other threats?

We don't have anything live.

Finn: We need to put out some kind of a press statement.

(PHONE VIBRATING)

Tom: Can't we take half an hour?

Do you think the national media will be taking half an hour?

A great man is gone. That's your press statement.

But, first, I need to do the knock.

I'm not having Jen find out from some spotty constable or Facebook.

Another suspect package has been found at the coffee stand in the Harrow Road.

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello.

That's the same chain as the Thameside Centre.

Finn: Jesus!

Tom: Right, one second.

It's Number 10.

Er...

Yes. Right.

Sharon, can you do the knock?

Yes, of course.

Can you tell Jen I'll see her as soon as I can.

Uh-huh.

Charles: Liz, as soon as that's done, you need to put a press statement out.

Finn, I'll need you on the bombings.

Thank you, everybody.

Hello, this is Caroline Carey. Please leave a message.

Prime Minister?

It's Liz again. Please call me as soon as you can.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Liz: Whoa, whoa.

I can't... I can't do this.

I just don't think I can do it. The knock.

Okay. What is the problem?

Erm. Oh...

This is going to come as a shock to you, but Richard was a...

He enjoyed the company of women...

Intensely.

He and I...

Oh.

We had a night together, six, seven years ago.

We were in the Hague for a Europol conference.

The Novotel.

It was just a night, although for a while I thought it could have been more than that.

Although it's probably good...

No, it's definitely good that it wasn't.

Well, I've never said more than hello to his wife, but the look in her eye when she sees me...

He must have told her. And I don't think Richard's old flame should be the one to tell his wife her husband's dead.

Okay. He didn't tell her.

Richard wanted to protect Jennifer from...

Everything.

That look in her eye is just...

Your conscience looking back at you.

You are the perfect person to tell her, because you cared about him.

(SHARON SIGHS)

Thank you, Liz.

When you've done it, will you let me know? Because I need to speak to Jennifer.

Okay.

(GASPS)

You didn't sleep with him, did you?

No.

Okay, good.

I mean, not that it matters. I mean, you could have.

It wouldn't make any difference to me.

I just wanted to know where we stand.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(SOBBING)

Everyone's outside. The press release is ready.

I just can't believe this is actually happening.

(SNIFFLING)

Oh. I'm sorry.

If you want we can do this later.

Not that much later, but, a bit.

No, it's fine. It's just very, very sad, you know.

Yes. Yes, it is.

Richard's why I'm here.

Just keep on doing what you do. What you're best at doing.

That's what he would have wanted.

What he wanted was to drown himself.

I'm not sure he was too concerned with PR policy going forward.

We don't know for sure that it was su1c1de.

Yes, we do.

I do.

Richard was having sex with his physio and his sister-in-law...

f*cking hell! ...and the press found out about it.

Caroline Carey.

Richard knew.

Does Inglis know about this?

You've got to tell him. And Finn, you've got to...

I have to talk to Caroline Carey.

I have to...

I have to buy us some time.

I have to talk to Richard's wife and warn her about the article.

Right. Okay.

He called me.

Late last night.

What did he say?

I don't know.

I ignored the call.

I should have answered the call. Maybe I could have...

I'm sure you couldn't.

Not because you're not a very sensitive person and a great communicator, but...

Because no one could.

Okay?

Erm...

(SIGHS)

Listen, I think you should talk to Inglis.

Hi, everyone. Sorry to pull you from your desks, but there's news.

And I wanted you to hear it from me.

In breaking news, the body of London Police Commissioner Richard Miller was found in the River Thames early this morning.

At 7:39 a.m., his body was found by the marine policing unit.

Initial unconfirmed reports indicate it may have been su1c1de.

We'll bring you more details as soon as we have them.

Nobbo: No way was it su1c1de.

Clarkey: What's your theory then?

Strangled by an angry eel?

Poisoned by the Russians.

You serious?

Robbie: See, I reckon he was out on the lash.

Tried to swim to the other side for a bet, and it all went wrong.

Poisoned, then drowned?

Well, belts and braces, innit?

Nah.

I reckon he felt guilty about the bombing.

Maybe he realised how much he'd f*cked up our pension pot and did the decent thing.

Ah, not the pensions again Banj.

Yeah, sorry. I'm thinking about my future.

Is it all right if I do that for a bit?

Sorry, is that so f*cking mental?

It's not mental, mate. It's just incredibly f*cking boring.

su1c1de. It's like a locked room.

I guess that's kind of the point.

Bloody hell.

Don't do it, Clarkey.

He could have been a secret h*m*.

'Cos it does happen, you know. Like them politicians, right, who jump into limos to go to Hampstead Heath to suck off tramps. I've seen it.

I tell you what I don't get about gays though right, I mean, who'd choose a dirty, smelly, stinking arsehole over a lovely, mmm, juicy p*ssy.

I mean, it don't make sense, does it?

Nobbo: Ahh, Jesus!

How long we gonna be guarding an empty coffee shop?

It's not empty. There's a thrill seeker behind you having the world's most dangerous espresso.

(SCOFFS) Hmm.

Waitress: Excuse me...

Hi, how you doing?

Everything go okay with Banjo?

Yeah.

Good. Great.

I mean, poor guy, but... Great.

What about you and Sandy?

Yeah, not bad.

She didn't smash anything.

Apart from my bust of Julius Caesar, but that was a replica, so...

Man on radio: Trojan 131, or any Trojan unit to assist local officers.

b*mb scene. MP over.

MP received by Trojan 131.

Jesus Christ.

About the pussies and the arseholes.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy tiger.

Nina took my f*cking keys again. Stupid bitch.

Oi.

Thing is mate, Tony's gay.

(CHUCKLES) Yeah, right.

What, him and the Black Arrow spend all night f*cking each other with left-handed screwdrivers?

No joke, mate. For real.

Well, he don't look gay.

Yeah, well, they're not all Alan Carr: Chatty Man.

(DOOR BUZZES)

See ya later.

Yeah.

On the bombings, the device was successfully disposed of, and the phone search has yielded a hit.

(MOBILE CHIMING)

I think they've traced the bomber to a houseboat.

Sharon: Specialist Firearms are preparing for a raid.

What the f*ck?

I have to take this.

Finn: "Top cop driven to su1c1de by multiple affairs."

Charles: What's this?

(MOBILE CONTINUES CHIMING)

Is this... Bullshit. What the f*ck's this?

It's not bullshit.

I knew about it. Richard knew about it, yesterday.

Yesterday?

Why didn't you tell us about it yesterday?

I tried to get the story buried.

Richard was in a very difficult situation which I...

Which you completely failed to get him out of.

His sister-in-law.

He was f*cking his sister-in-law. What should I have done?

Flown around the earth and turned back time?

Arranged a private meeting where he could un-f*ck her?

You could have asked for my help.

And you'd have done what, exactly?

I've known Caroline Carey for 15 years.

I could have talked to her. Threatened her, if necessary.

Don't you think I have a file full of dirt on hacks like her?

You wanted to save the world all by yourself.

You couldn't bear to ask your sidekick for help.

And we are where we are. And Richard is where he is.

His sister-in-law and his physio?

What a player.

I didn't think someone his age would have the energy.

She must be a good physio.

Can't believe he thought he could get away with it.

Can't believe he was shagging that many birds but still wanted to k*ll himself.

So, listen, Tone.

I don't know if this was a wind-up right, but...

But Banjo said you're gay.

Yeah. I am, as it goes.

What? Well, you could have told me, man.

I mean, you made me look like a right twat talking about p*ssy and arse and all that sh*t and all that stuff I said about Elton John and the batty men.

So I have to announce that I'm gay so that you don't forget to pretend not to be a h*m*?

Well, yeah, because I ain't one of them, all right?

Right.

So, what's it actually like then?

You know, bumming?

Jesus Christ!

An actual cock up your arsehole?

You ever had a bit of double trouble?

Eh?

Skiing?

Oh, for f*ck's sake.

What?

False alarm.

Phoned in by a rival trainer shop round the corner.

f*cking time-wasters.

And who'd wanna b*mb a shoe, apart from the f*cking Shoe Bomber?

Actually, you know what? Maybe I'd like to b*mb their shoes, teach them a f*cking lesson.

Banjo.

We've only got room for one loose cannon, so we don't need you declaring jihad on sandals, all right?

Yeah?

Hey, what's going on?

Banjo: Ah, it's just pissin' me off. Davs is acting up.

Excuse me, sir.

I have reason to believe you're smoking a marijuana cigarette.

It's a f*g.

That's an unacceptable h*m* expression.

I'm gonna have to arrest you for that.

I ain't done nothing wrong, mate.

All right Marco, don't sh*t your kit, mate.

It's me, innit?

Robbie!

f*cking hell! Robbie, from school.

Don't do that, mate, you proper got me, you little cuntstable, you.

sh*t, Hopwood. Warwick's camera.

Kicking off in Victoria Park, houseboat raid, high-priority.

Roger that. We'll meet you over at the RVP as soon as this location has been secured.

What, you're calling in the b*mb unit?

Will do, yeah, if need be.

Heckler and Koch, MP5 sub-machine g*n with nine mil hollow point a*mo.

Can I have a go?

Mate, I'm a highly trained firearms officer. If you had a "go", you'd probably end up sh**ting yourself in the arse or somethin'.

You mug. sh**t myself!

I'm Prestige Level 10, Call of Duty.

Yeah? Black Ops. (WHISTLES)

Yeah?

Yeah, Warwick's conducting interviews at a rival sport shop, who may or may not have made a hoax thr*at.

Warwick's at another sports shop on his own, and you're just here waiting for him?

That's right, yeah.

Okay, well when Warwick's done with his secret mission, get the f*ck over there, okay?

Yes, sir.

Cheers, guv.

Jesus f*cking Christ.

We need to do something. We need to get him signed off.

What is the long-term plan here?

Cardboard cut-out? Inflatable f*cking Warwick in the back seat?

The long-term plan is we take care of our own.

Unless you're more worried about Hopwood signing off on your sergeant's application?

Oh, f*ck off, Banj.

Oh!

Robbie big balls!

Well, I'm glad you got yourself a big metal d*ck, 'cos last I remember, your real d*ck was like a tiny little worm.

At least that's what Tanya used to tell me.

Do you remember Tanya Tucker?

Look, I'm just looking out for a mate.

What, getting him relieved of duty? How's that looking out for him exactly?

He almost broke his own f*cking front door down this morning.

Is that the guy that you want back on the streets holding a g*n?

Why don't you suck on my big metal d*ck, huh?

How about you suck on that? Go on. How about that. Suck on that!

What you sayin' now? You ain't sayin' much now, are ya?

Hello, sir. I just want to apologise for my colleague's over familiar conduct just then.

Lf you do need to make a complaint...

Yeah.

I'm gonna provide you with a number that you can call, all right?

What the f*ck?

Look, it's cool, I know him from school, innit?

He's a twat, he used to...

I don't care how many wedgies he gave you.

He's an unarmed member of the public and you just threatened him with a loaded firearm.

If you ever do anything like that again, you're gonna be out the child seat, straight down the f*cking disposal chute.

Do you understand me?

Do you understand me?

All right.

ARV Officer 1: Okay. Let me know when you're ready.

ARV Officer 2: Yep, ready boss.

ARV Officer 3: Yep.

ARV Officer 1: Okay, don't get sh*t.

Someone needs to talk to his wife.

Tell her never to switch on her TV or look at her phone, ever again.

The last person Jen needs to speak to is you.

I was doing my job. My job was to protect Richard.

Well, I think we can safely say that isn't your job any more.

Okay, the perimeter's secured and the firearms team is ready to go in.

Sir, I thought you should know a news portal has hacked into the drone feed.

Jesus Christ.

How did they get that?

I don't know.

Well, if it's out there, it's out there.

Well, this isn't meant to be f*cking out there.

If this lunatic smothers his ballbag in nitroglycerin, I don't want his testicles exploding in twenty million faces.

k*ll the feed.

Are you sure?

This is operational.

ARV Officer: Donny team, moving in.

Not public relations.

We don't need that footage. We can fly blind. k*ll it.

Tom: Yes, sir.

(GLASS SHATTERING)

(g*n sh*t FIRED)

(OVERLAPPING SHOUTS)

Officer: Armed police! Armed police, get down...

Officer: Armed police. Armed police. Get down.

Armed police. Get down.

Get down! Get down now!

Armed police.

Fire!

(g*nshots)

Officer 1: Galley clear.

Officer 2: Clear.

All clear. Nothing happening. He's been here but I think he's buggered off.

There was definitely someone here.

ARV Officer: Right, stand down.

Okay. Stand down. Let's get EXPO in.

Well, perhaps the forensics will give us...

For f*cking's sake!

(MOBILE CHIMING)

Hello. One second.

It's the Home Secretary.

Finn: Oh, Christ.

Yeah, we're just trying to locate him now, actually.

Just give it to me.

Charles: Home Secretary?

All right?

Cheers.

There was a call-out today, and, Hopwood came by and we had to cover for you.

Yeah, and we did a sh*t job, so sorry about that.

Yeah, look I...

Think that it might be time to look at getting you signed off.

Signed off?

Yeah, so that you can get some treatment or...

Treatment? What, what you think I'm some sort of nutcase?

No, we just want what's best for you, mate.

Oh, when you tell Hopwood that I can't handle it, do you think he'll be all like, "Oh, that's fine Warwick, "have a lie down, let me get you a cushion."

Or do you think he'll make sure that I never pick up a g*n again in case I sh**t someone's gran thinking they're Jack the f*cking Ripper?

All right.

I think that you just need some proper time off to get your head straight.

This job is who I am.

It's not about the g*ns. It's about the team. It's about us.

I thought we were the f*cking Avengers.

Aren't we?

Course we are.

Aren't we?

Yeah.

Yeah, we are the f*cking Avengers.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(INAUDIBLE)

Issue a lockdown.

A man fitting his description was spotted near the houseboat.

"Bomber on the loose, police in turmoil" all over the front pages. f*cking great.

It'd be a good day for the Queen to come out as gay and set herself on fire on The One Show. Tom, can you arrange that?

Um...

It's a joke.

Look, I don't think this necessarily reflects badly on you.

Some commentators are making a link, that Richard was too preoccupied with personal issues and dropped the ball on the bomber.

Liz: Who wrote that?

I'll issue a rebuttal.

We don't have time to issue rebuttals.

We need to make time.

Look, our job is to support the head of this force.

Yesterday that was Richard Miller, today it's Acting Commissioner Charles Inglis.

We could not save his life, but we can save his reputation.

Charles: What are you going to do with his reputation once you've saved it?

Put a hat on it? Stand it in the corner, ask it to make operational decisions?

The fact is, Richard's affairs, the bomber.

These are situations we inherited.

Liz: Meaning what, exactly?

Meaning you can't libel the dead.

So, we make ourselves look whiter than white while we load up Richard's plate at the salad bar of shame?

I knew Richard better than any of you.

He was one of my oldest friends.

But Finn's right. We've got too much going on to focus on his legacy.

Sharon, I'd like you to personally spearhead the TSG operation at Victoria Park.

I don't want to tread on the Chief Superintendent's toes.

Charles: No, I need my best people on this so...

I'll walk you to your car.

Yes.

Liz, have you got a minute?

So, Charles and I have been thinking.

It might make sense to streamline things at the top of the department.

Streamline?

Yeah.

You and Richard were a great double act, and when great double acts end, going solo's always going to be difficult.

Art Garfunkel, Liam Gallagher, Frankenstein's monster, are just some examples.

Right.

We all know how close you and Richard were.

If you're implying that we were having some sort of relationship, that's total bullshit.

I would never imply that.

I don't need to imply that, because I have Richard's mobile phone records.

This is from last night.

"I need to talk to you," 22:13.

"Call me," 22:16.

Those were not romantic.

Funny how you didn't mention it when he was missing?

The thing is, Liz, I always think it's best to have a policy of transparency.

Are you threatening me?

Are you f*ring me?

Of course not.

The terms of your contract are clear and inarguable.

But, if you were to decide that today was the day to move on, then...

That's a decision the Acting Commissioner would support, with the utmost regret.

Maybe you should go home until this all dies down.

We can say you needed some time off.

Let me know how you want to spin it.

(SOBS SOFTLY)

(SIGHS)

On answering machine: Hi, it's Davina, leave a message.

Look, where are you? What the f*ck's going on?

Call me back.

The agent said if I didn't put down a deposit today it would have gone like that.

You've got to move fast, the market's insane.

What, so you've actually moved out? Like, this is your flat?

Our flat.

Right.

Davina: I mean, we didn't actually decide, but...

I mean, I haven't lived in a flat for like 10 year.

Oh, my God. Did you ram-raid a petrol station?

Sorry, it's an air bed but, the honeymoon suite awaits.

Nice. Although you know my back.

Maybe we should go to a Premier Inn just for tonight?

(PHONE RINGING)

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Hi, it's Davina. Leave a message.

Look, who is it?

Is it one of your exes?

Is it Chris, that slimy piece of sh*t?

Woman on radio: Trojan 131 or any Trojan.

Positive ID on a firearm at a nightclub, E3, MP over.

All received by Trojan 131.

Come on, Banjo.

Call me.

(THUMPING)

(GRUNTING)

(ENGINE STARTING)

Let's rock and roll.

(SIREN BLARING)

Woman on radio: Young IC3, male.

Positive ID on a firearm. Exterior nightclub. Northside, over.

Call received. Over.

Right, so no sh*ts fired. If you see a sh**t, then challenge him. But if you need to deal with it, then deal with it.

If you want you can stay with the Trojan.

What, and look after your thermos?

Piss off, mate, I just...

I'm on it. Serious as cancer.

Rhythm is a dancer.

See? I told you he was good to go.

Sure, mate.

Right, Robbie, go red.

Warwick, cover ahead. I'm gonna go green. Okay?

(CROWD CHEERING IN DISTANCE)

Boy: f*cking hell, bruv! That's a bit heavy!

Clear the f*cking arches!

Boy: Oh, f*ck off.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(MUSIC PLAYING IN DISTANCE)

Got two guys scrapping.

Man: Get out of my f*cking way! Get the f*ck out the way!

I can't see sh*t. Move. f*ckin' move. Move.

(CROWD SCREAMING)

Right, I've got pole position.

Robbie, stay right.

(INDISTINCT YELLING)

In position.

Get back.

Yo, what's goin' on?

I said, get back.

I just wanna get to the club.

I'm not gonna ask you again, all right?

This is an armed incident. Get to the back of the arches.

Leave it out, man.

(LOUD BANG)

Was that a sh*t?

Was that a sh*t?

Warwick: Dunno. Moving in.

(INDISTINCT YELLING)

Warwick, is it a g*n?

(TRAIN CLATTERING)

(SHOUTS) Armed police. Put the w*apon down now.

I've got the sh*t.

(STATIC)

(SHOUTS) Warwick?

What, do you wanna f*cking die?

What the f*ck is that, man?

What's that? What the f*ck is that, bruv?

(g*nsh*t)

(CROWD SCREAMING)

Raver: What the f*ck, man? No.

What the...

Robbie: Apply first aid!

(MUTED RAVE MUSIC)

What the f*ck?

I had to take the sh*t.

You didn't take the sh*t. I had to take the sh*t.

He's f*cked!

Okay, just tell me what happened in your own words.

I was by the car.

We all heard a sh*t.

There was a kid on the ground.

Yeah, you got another kid standing over him about to sh**t.

He had a g*n, but I didn't...

Yeah, Warwick had visual on the g*n. Suspect was about to fire...

You could see that Warwick could see a g*n?

Yeah, he saw the g*n, but he didn't have a clear sh*t.

But I did. I took the sh*t.

After a verbal warning?

After a verbal warning, yeah.

(LOUD BANGING)

Boy: You murdering f*ckers!

(BLINDS OPENING)

(GRANGER CLEARS THROAT)

(SIGHS)

Marmite, marmalade.

The two marms.

It's the English double whammy.

It's bitter, but surprisingly moreish. Like me.

In the big picture, it's just a sidebar.

Everyone's talking about the su1c1de, the sister-in-law.

No one will pay any attention.

No one except everyone who matters.

You could sue.

How long would that take? A year? Two?

It's not going to save my reputation or my job.

Make a clean break of it then.

Didn't the Deputy Mayor offer you a cool job?

Nah. (SCOFFS)

I don't think they'd take me now. I'm toxic waste.

Besides, London Assembly, it's a bit Youth Parliament, isn't it?

If it ceased to exist, would anyone notice for the first 12 months?

It's Boris Bikes. The Olympics.

Tube strikes.

You know, all that great sh*t.

You could always go back to Instagram.

I'm not going back to Instagram.

She was briefly employed here, as a physiotherapist.

Reporter: Is that on the record?

Yeah, of course. I am the bloody record.

(PHONE RINGING)

Can I quote you on that?

Hi, John...

John: Is it true?

Yep, there is absolutely no evidence that the late Commissioner was involved in the bombing other than working hard to prevent it.

(PHONE RINGING)

(SIGHS) Mia Connroy.

Reporter: Is it true that...

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Morning, everyone.

Unfortunately, Liz won't be coming in today, she's not feeling well.

Norovirus. She might be out for a few days. Or a few weeks. Or a few months.

So, if anyone has time perhaps they can organise a whip round for a bottle of Lucozade and some grapes?

(PHONES RINGING)

So, Victoria Park lockdown.

Mia: You need to see this.

What?

Fatal sh**ting outside a nightclub.

For f*ck's sake. Dead Commissioner, dead teenager.

Can everyone please just stop dying, just for a minute?

"Boy sh*t by armed cops." Not great.

No, no, no, no. Look, look.

"Criminal brandishing lethal w*apon taken down by armed officers "using appropriate force to protect innocent members of the public."

That's your headline. There are no "dead boys" in this story.

The photo's just come through.

(PHONES CONTINUE RINGING)

He does look sort of boyish?

"Boy" to me is five or younger.

Has this gone out yet?

No, we need to sign off on it.

Source another photo. A more grown-up one.

Feel free to Photoshop on a beard, or at least some stubble.

I'm sh1tting you.

Right.

Look.

The headline is, "Good guys don't carry g*ns."

Unless they're us.

And see what background you can dig up. We need to give the full context. Yes?

Yes.

Yes.

(PHONES CONTINUE RINGING)

Mia Connroy.

All right, we're gonna go live now to our reporter, Jonah Hull, who's at the scene of the sh**ting.

Jonah, is this turning into the worst week in Scotland Yard's history?

Well, it certainly seems that way.

The Thameside Bomber is still at large, and of course earlier we heard about the Commissioner, Richard Miller's apparent su1c1de.

And now in the early hours of this morning outside this warehouse, a black teenager has been sh*t and k*lled by armed police.

Intelligence from within the force suggests that Karl Jeffries, who had a history of involvement with dr*gs and gangs, was armed and considered dangerous...

They are briefing against the victim.

... may have been linked to an ongoing dispute between rival gangs...

Oh, the gangsta pose.

Why not go all the way and just Photoshop him standing between Tupac and Biggie?

(GRANGER CHUCKLES)

God! Finn is ripping up everything Richard tried to do.

24 hours, it will all be gone.

Ah, don't tell me, let me guess.

Saint Richard, the Sacred Shagger?

Don't.

Acting Commissioner Charles Inglis has yet to make a statement about the sh**ting.

God!

(PHONE RINGS)

Mia Connroy.

Hi, Mia, Sam. Listen, I...

Right, listen.

"A challenging time for us all at Scotland Yard."

Not "crisis," not "freefall," and certainly not "meltdown." Yeah.

Hi, Mum, can I call you back? It's not a good time. Okay.

(SIGHS) Mia Connroy.

Why are you briefing against a dead 17-year-old?

Oh, hi, Liz.

How does Finn think it's going to play out when a few "drug convictions" and "g*ng connections" turns into one caution for cannabis and a few dodgy friends in an area where everyone's friends are dodgy?

Well, I guess the thinking was to limit the damage of the "boy" angle.

Age isn't the angle. It's "black teenager", emphasis on "black".

The tale as old as time, the institutionally r*cist police.

Actually, one of the officers involved was black.

I'm sending you his details.

Maybe that's a good approach? "We are a multiracial police force "and a multiracial team was involved in the incident."

This might sound weird, I'm just, I'm not actually 100% on whether or not he's black.

Well, he's definitely black.

Or mixed race. But I mean mixed race is black, isn't it?

I mean, my gut feeling when I looked at this picture was "black guy."

That's the test, isn't it?

I don't think that's the official UN procedure, no.

Maybe he's Asian? Or Greek? Like Dappy from N-Dubz?

I think if we claimed the Greeks as multiracial we'd get shafted by everyone, including the Greeks.

Can we call him?

And ask if he's black?

Are we allowed to do that?

No, we are not allowed to do that.

Oh, he's Turkish. The opposite of Greek.

The point is, let's not make Mistake 101, "Smearing The Dead Guy"

I'll send you a draught of a new statement.

Okay, but Finn...

Mia...

I have always thought you had big balls.

Now is the moment to grab those balls with both hands.

Right?

Look, just...

Help me do the right thing. Please?

Hi, I'm Matt Coward from Matt Coward Productions.

Is Liz Garvey available? I have an exciting proposal I'd like to show her.

I'm afraid Liz is off sick.

Lovesick?

What? It's in the papers.

Miles: Come to pay your respects, have you?

I'm first in line, matey-boy.

Miles. Great to see you.

Two words. f*ck off.

Three more. Go f*ck yourself.

So, it's a lockdown for three square miles.

All public and private transport is suspended.

We're asking you lot to team up with Specialist Firearms for house to house search.

Must have a good sniff if they're sending top brass to mix it up with the grunts.

Now City Hall are making us sweat. If we don't find him in a few hours, we'll have to lift the cordon.

The guy you're looking for could be a walking b*mb.

So, be careful.

So, beds...

I know lkea's a bit 90's, but it's cheap.

(MOBILE BEEPS)

And everyone loves a Swedish meatball and some mini Daim bars.

It's Banjo.

What's that, call number 20? You need to put up a Chinese wall.

How about we play "First to find the psycho gets to finger Davs"?

So I'll be doing all the work and fingering myself, as per usual.

(PHONE RINGS)

I've got to take this.

Look, I can't really talk at the minute.

Banjo: sh*t a kid.

What?

It was dark and Warwick was...

He was only a kid and I sh*t him.

I k*lled a kid, Davs.

(DOOR BELL BUZZING)

Reporter: A peaceful, quiet East London neighbourhood, which had been enjoying a perfectly normal day, has suddenly become the centre of an intense police manhunt.

(DOOR BELLS RINGING)

(KNOCKING)

Officer: Sorry to bother you. We're just asking a few...

If I leave now, everyone's gonna say that he wasn't right in the head, that he was under emotional strain. Maybe he was. Maybe if I hadn't...

Oh, so it's your fault he pulled the trigger now?

Or is it mine?

No, I'm not saying that, I'm just saying...

No, I'm not saying it's not horrible.

But he's using it to emotionally blackmail you, and it's working a treat.

Clarkey, he's under investigation.

He'll lose his job, he'll lose everything.

Excuse me, sir, you're not permitted to leave the premises.

I need to go to work. Look, I'm late for a meeting.

Clarkey: There's a lockdown on the area.

Davina: Has anyone tried to come to the door, enter the property?

No.

Clarkey: If you see anything suspicious, let us know, yeah?

Look, I know he's under investigation, but can't you see this from my point of view?

Davina: Clarkey, this is really stressful for him.

Can you not see that?

So, what you gonna do?

I don't know.

Boys.

Good man.

Robbie: All right, mate?

What the f*ck's this?

White wine spritzer. I just thought...

What, you thought I'm gay, so I must drink white wine?

Well, it's still a pint, innit?

f*ck off.

What you all gonna say at the IPCC?

All right Banj, you know we're not supposed to consult before the one-on-ones.

We're not consulting. Consulting's like when you see a specialist about your ankle.

We're just chatting over a pint.

No one said you can't have a nice chat.

Warwick: I'm just gonna tell 'em what happened.

I saw him pointing something at the other kid's head, but I couldn't tell if... What he was holding...

What do you mean, you couldn't tell what he was holding?

It weren't a crayon, or a green pepper.

It was a g*n.

Yeah, I saw I saw the g*n. Right in his hand. Definite g*n.

I can't believe I missed it.

You've just got to trust your judgement, all right?

It was noisy, it was dark. But there was a g*n.

That's the headline.

(SIGHS) Look, it's important we stick together. Okay?

You mean tell the truth as we remember it?

Yeah. Which, since we all saw the same thing, means sticking together.

What the f*ck are you doing here?

Why shouldn't I be here?

'Cos I sacked you. Remember that?

Well, who d*ed and left you all the cops? It's a new era.

Why shouldn't I get access?

I earned my access with years of lugging cameras around the North Circular filming tax disc dodgers.

You want a piece of my action? Pay your f*cking dues.

(MOUTHING) What the f*ck is this?

Miles: And get out of my way while I sort out the mess you've made.

It's Finn, yeah?

What the f*ck is this?

It's just a different angle.

It reads like a newsletter of the Karl Jeffries Fan Site.

Look. It's Liz, okay? She just wants...

She wanted what? What?

We're in front of the f*ring line and she wants to clean the barrels and load the b*ll*ts?

She didn't want anything to mushroom.

Look. Liz is sick. Right?

She's so sick, she's dead. Consider this her last will and testament.

This is not an art house movie where everyone gets a point of view, okay?

It's a Western. Black hats versus white hats.

There's no grey in a newspaper headline.

Anything that makes our hat whiter and their hat blacker, that's our job. That's what we do.

And there are no racial connotations to the hat colours.

That's just the colours they come in.

f*ck you!

No f*ck you!

Hey, hey, hey. Hey!

If you two don't leave the building immediately, I'm calling the police.

And I can guarantee you they'll come pretty f*cking quickly.

(SIRENS BLARING)

Reporter: In the last few moments, police have surrounded this house here in the Victoria Park area after a neighbour made reports of suspicious activities.

Policeman: Stop filming! Get back.

We're being told that the bomber is hiding inside.

What we don't know is whether he has any expl*sive devices with him, or to what lengths the police are prepared to go to make an arrest.

(PHONE RINGING)

Sharon: (ANSWERING PHONE) Charles?

What's the situation?

The ARV are calling out the suspect.

That could take hours. We need a result. They need to go in now.

Into a potential b*mb factory?

No, we should be focusing on evacuating the neighbouring properties and facilitating a gentle exit.

Gentle exit? What did you have in mind?

Building him a waterslide from the second floor?

With all due respect, sir, you asked me to personally take charge of this operation.

And that is what I intend to do.

Jesus Christ.

(PHONE RINGING)

Mia Connroy.

I've been trying to get hold of you for an hour.

"Sources at Scotland Yard have refused to quash suspicions "the distractions of Miller's chaotic private life "were a factor in his handling of the bombing."

What are Inglis and Finn going to do next?

Frame Richard for an unsolved paedo m*rder?

And where is our press release on the sh**ting?

Finn spiked that.

Well, unspike it.

Liz, look, I know you're still officially my boss, but the thing is, Finn's here and you're not and he sort of said I'm not supposed to talk to you. Sorry.

Hi.

Finn: Hi.

A tense stand-off has effectively become a siege with no clear end in sight.

Police negotiators are attempting to communicate with the...

Cameraman: Harry! Harry! He's coming out.

Policeman: Get behind.

Negotiator on loudspeaker: Do you need any medical assistance?

This is not a surrender. This is a warning call to capitalists and their armed dogs.

Negotiator on loudspeaker: We understand that, son.

Walk into the road. Do a 360 turn.

Reporter: Assistant Commissioner, you must be relieved that you've managed to arrest the suspect without any further casualties.

Sharon: I'd like to thank the residents of Victoria Park for their co-operation...

Nobbo: Didn't you two search that house?

Yeah, we... Yeah, we did.

Nobbo: So how was it then, Clarkey?

Too busy tryin' to cop a look at Geordie tits to notice a bloke with a b*mb up his arsehole?

Listen. Just because I've got tits doesn't mean I can't do me job and I can do it a f*ck's sight better than you, so f*ck off, all right?

Sharon: We were able to reach out to the suspect's parents.

We felt it was important to facilitate a gentle exit in such a densely populated area...

"Keeping London's Streets Safe."

It's a win.

Oh, yeah, it's a win.

A win for Assistant Commissioner Sharon Franklin.

Sharon: To quote John Rawls, "Ajust system must generate..."

What the f*ck?

Dermot: Let's get straight to it. What is your response to these rumours that you were part...

Can she do this? Is she allowed to do this?

... of Richard Miller's complicated private life?

The Commissioner and I never had anything more than a professional relationship.

And whatever issues he might have been struggling with in his final days, he never let them impact on the decisions he made or the actions he took to keep this city safe.

Richard's legacy for London is something worth fighting for and...

It's a bit written for my taste.

Liz: I guess that's why I'm here to fight for it.

Well, you talk about legacy, is that legacy reflected in the way you've handled today's tragic events?

There are suggestions that your PR department...

Didn't Thatcher do this? Just turn up on the news one day.

Yeah, Thatcher also got ousted because she pissed off everyone she worked with.

Liz: I'm glad that you asked it and I will answer in full.

First, I want to apologise to the family of Karl Jeffries for the way he's been portrayed in certain sections of the media.

The details of the incident are not yet entirely clear, but he is a dead 17-year-old boy, who at this point has not been accused of any crime.

Just because the man who sh*t him was wearing a police badge doesn't mean he did the right thing. He's not infallible.

The Commissioner was not infallible. I am not infallible.

All I can do is...

What Richard did, which is the right thing, even when the right thing is impossible.

Nice. That's nice.

If we try to get rid of her now we are going to look like a r*cist Darth Vader trying to drown Luke Skywalker in a bag with some kittens.

... use this opportunity to announce that Acting Commissioner Inglis has asked me to personally handle all the press on the IPCC investigation...

Oh, have I? That's very nice of me.

Do you think your position as the head of PR is still tenable?

My position was to protect Richard, and I did not do my job as well as I could have.

But I know that he would have wanted me to continue.

And that is what I intend to do with total, unwavering commitment.

Dermot: Okay, well you've got to look, we hear all that...

She can crown herself "The People's Princess" for all I care.

Her little Diana act doesn't mean sh*t.

(MELLOW ACOUSTIC MUSIC PLAYING)

Okay?

Thanks for coming in, Liz.

Dermot: Great to see you again.

Thanks very much, Dermot.

(HIP-HOP MUSIC PLAYING)