01x05 - Episode 5

[bunniefuu]

Clemency Johnson, this is Rudy Jones.

Has he been drinking?

He keeps a bottle in his car.

I'm granting you leave to come back before me Wednesday morning to argue about whether or not your client is competent to die.

It's not your job to tell the State Department in Washington we've appointed a Chief Prosecutor who doesn't listen to anything we say.

I want the man who caused Michael's death put on trial and sent to jail.

Take the hit.

Who are you?

All you need to know is I wasn't here.

Not then, not now.

There's a new witness - scared and careful, which is a good thing.

Who's the witness?

Abigail Strickland.

No!

That's the woman I saw with Nick.

She didn't exist, this woman.

Why not?

Tell your wife you've been having an affair.

The journalist won't dig deep because private pain is private.

Whatever any of them try and say now, Abigail Strickland was a good police officer.

Dad.

Yes.

What happens on mile five on your run?

Press ups.

But it says you stop for seven or eight minutes sometimes.

Are you looking for a family member?

Yes.

You should probably check the register of deaths.

What's the name?

Nicholas Johnson.

He wouldn't even have been eight when he d*ed.

This programme contains some strong language and some scenes which some viewers might find upsetting.

(Panting)

(Faint music from headphones)

Erm, call when you can, OK?

Er.... I love you.

Mum?

Text from Dad.

Do you want to know what he says?

What does he say?

"Look after Mum."

(Hospital equipment beeps)

'Hello. It's me. Erm... everything's fine here. Dan is doing press-ups like his life depends on it and Ella is practising some very serious dance moves. You left without saying goodbye, babe. I...I understand I get it, and I'm... I'm so, so sorry. Look, I just wanted to say call when you can, OK?'

Mum!

'I love you.'

Mum?

Yeah, coming, I'm coming.

They're ready.

For 20 years, we had a relationship based on truth and integrity.

Everything we said to each other had the nuance and deep understanding integral to all relationships that endure.

We had trust, we had great seriousness, we had wild laughter.

I talked, he listened.

He talked, I heard him.

I spoke with him so I could speak for him.

Ours was a language never diminished by cliche.

He understood how short life is and therefore how wonderful.

He taught me how it was possible to find beauty in an eight foot cell.

The play of light, the geometry of shape, the music in prison sound.

But not any more.

None of this now.

He can't talk to me so I don't know what he thinks or who he is.

Your honour, Ricky Ray Rector had an IQ of 69.

The State of Arkansas ex*cuted him despite an appeal made precisely on the same basis as this appeal.

Not competent to die?

Rudy Jones is in way better shape than Ricky Ray.

Your honour, Bill Clinton was Governor of Arkansas slap bang in the middle of his first campaign for president and he came home to Little Rock to consult with his conscience, his wife and his God before deciding not to grant clemency to a man with a reading age of four.

I think we'd all...

Ricky Ray helped the execution team find a vein.

Clinton could never be called soft on crime again.

The k*lling of Ricky Ray Rector was sickening political opportunism.

I'm sure that this court will have none of that.

I think we'd all prefer to be guided by God than a sexually incontinent Democrat and his wife.

God said, thou shalt not k*ll. Do you know why?

He doesn't need DNA testing to know that one in nine men on death row are exonerated completely.

Who do we think we are?

Do we think we've earned the right to k*ll people?

Do we think we're grown-up enough to play God?

Miss Cobbina doesn't believe in God so maybe she should confine herself to the issue here which is simple and narrow.

The State contend the petitioner is competent to die.

Competent?!

He's a child.

I cannot take instructions from a child.

An old friend of yours was released from prison yesterday.

Goes by Big Ray.

Word is he might be interested in finding you.

It goes without saying, we've got your back.

But you're telling me anyway.

We might have some people on him and on you for the next few days.

So don't get jumpy. They're friends.

So I'm satisfied he understands he's been sentenced to death and he knows what it means to die.

Thank you, Doctor.

What does it mean to die?

Heaven or hell, I guess.

Where's my client going?

Hell.

What happens in hell?

Suffering.

What kind of suffering?

Burning.

What does that feel like?

You see, the thing about the pain of hell is that it cannot be imagined.

That's the power, you see. Nobody knows.

Heaven is more beautiful than any one of us can imagine, but, hell, that's way beyond our understanding.

How many visits did you make to examine Rudy?

Only needed the one.

Tell me about it.

Real thorough.

How long were you there for?

About an hour.

Do you want to think about that answer?

No.

When a God-fearing man like you swears on the Holy Bible to tell the whole truth, it's a meaningful act, right?

Right. Do liars go to hell?

You bet.

Make your point.

The witness is lying, Your Honour.

Miss Cobbina, this is a medical expert...

I treat all lying witnesses the same, expert or not.

How can you know it's a lie when you claim your client's too far gone to know the time of day, let alone when he was with a doctor?

Because I was there.

Now, if that were true, don't you suppose the doctor would have noted your presence?

The doctor was too far gone to know the time of day, let alone who else was in the room with him.

Excuse me?

The doctor was drunk.

(Shocked gasps)

I doubt that.

We can't both be telling the truth here, can we?

So I'm asking you for a finding of fact on this, Your Honour.

Which of us is going to burn in hell?

Him...or me?

Moving on, Miss Cobbina.

In my opinion, Rudy Jones suffered damage to his brain that severely limits his understanding of this process.

He doesn't know that he's going to die.

I'm not even sure he understands the difference between life and death.

Thanks.

Dr Ambrose.

Do you believe in the death penalty?

No, I don't.

Well, what if it were a member of your own family who were m*rder*d?

Same answer.

Really? No retribution? No feelings of revenge?

That's why I do this work.

Excuse me?

15 years ago, my mother was r*ped and beaten in her own home.

It took three days for her to die, during which time, she regained to consciousness once for a few minutes.

In those minutes, she spoke once.

"Forgive those who trespass against us", were her only words.

They found the man who k*lled her.

I spoke at his sentencing hearing.

The state tried to stop me, but I did it, anyway, and asked for my mother's last wishes to be respected.

The jury decided the accused should live.

The judge overruled the jury.

My first execution was my mother's k*ller.

Witnessing it gave me no feelings other than... revulsion and shame.

Call Joshua Roberts.

Dad?

Mm-hm?

I want to come running with you today.

That's not a good idea, Dan.

We run at different speeds.

But you promised.

I don't think I did, Dan.

You told me when I was 18, I could come running with you.

How old were you when I said that?

Seven.

(Nick sighs)

Look, er...sometimes...

Was it a lie?

In a way.

Have you lied to me about anything else?

No.

Daddy, swear on Rocco's life.

I swear.

And on my life.

I swear.

(OK.)

Er...I've been with him since he got back to the facility.

Kind of like a special detail.

And have you managed to observe the petitioner?

You mean the prisoner?

Yes.

Well, it's my job.

And what have you observed?

I've observed an improvement.

How would you characterise this improvement?

How would you characterise this improvement?

Sneaky.

I'm sorry?

He don't talk and he don't move none when it's doctors and lawyers.

When they're gone, he talks.

It's a miracle, or it's a lie.

Which do you think it is?

What do I know? I'm just a prison guard.

Any which way, seems he don't think us boys important enough to worry over.

All this talking you say he does in front of you, it's...it's uncorroborated by independent witnesses.

Or in plain English, it never happens when anyone else is in the room.

Slipped up one time.

When was that?

I don't...I don't like to say.

I'm afraid you're going to have to.

It's my understanding they'd never met before, but he was real pleased to see her.

Who?

Pretty girl, up close.

He couldn't help himself.

I'm no expert, but don't look like brain damage to me when a man gets roused up by a young lady.

Your Honour...?

You saw it. I saw you see it.

"Clemency Johnson, meet Rudy Jones", you said.

Putting a tear in your eye and a smile on his face.

There she is, sat right there.

Hi, Dad, it's me. It's...it's Clem. Um...

Something just happened.

(Birdsong)

In summary, therefore, I've heard unchallenged evidence of the petitioner's response to a young lady who came into his presence.

Which is clearly commensurate with mental competence.

There's been a lot of talk about heaven and hell in my courtroom today, so it's sort of fitting that the quality of this evidence feels like it was sent from up above with a special and particular meaning.

Some kind of profound and greater justice has visited us today.

I'm more than satisfied that the petitioner's competent to be ex*cuted.

The stay is lifted.

The execution will be carried out as directed by the warden of the state penitentiary 48 hours from now.

All rise!

Clem?

(My darling girl.)

It's not your fault. You know that, don't you?

It's not you, it's them. Yes?

Yeah.

OK?

This is Vernon Early.

Yes! Yes, it is! Hello!

Yes.

And I heard what they did to Rudy.

Is, er...is this OK?

I mean, we all right?

I-I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean.

When I testified for the state against Rudy, they...they told me not to talk to nobody else. Made it like a warning.

There's no property in a witness.

I don't understand.

Nobody owns you.

You're free.

To talk to whoever you want to, whenever you want to.

You sound like Michael.

Michael?

Antwi.

You knew Michael?

Yeah. I shook his hand, heard him speak.

Felt like I knew him all my life. Invited him for coffee.

I...I heard him speak just before he d*ed.

Is that right? What'd he say?

He said it was time to...to stand up, that he'd had enough of peaceful protest.

Yeah. "You come for my brother, we're coming for you."

He talked about an alibi witness for Rudy who changed his evidence after a visit from the cops.

Wasn't Rudy k*lled Mayor Anderson.

How do you know?

He was with me, fixing up the truck.

Are you sure about the time?

Yeah. Cops went by on the road outside of my place.

And an ambulance. There and back.

Rudy and me stood and watched them.

Where were they going?

Mayor Anderson's place, for the m*rder.

How long was Rudy with you before the police went by?

All morning.

So, he couldn't have been at the Anderson house when he was k*lled?

Two places at one time.

Seems like n*gg*r*s and the devil only two know how to pull that trick.

See, the jury voted for the death penalty. You know why?

White politician k*lled by a black man, an all-white jury?

Sure. But that wasn't the real deal-closer.

What the jury hated most was that Rudy had tried to fix the evidence.

Mm-hm.

That he'd tried to make a good man lie on his behalf.

"The good n*gg*r white folk's been calling me ever since.

"And my people?

"What they calling me?"

Would you like to talk about this some more?

(Yes.)

In court?

I like that.

No property in a witness.

Seem like the law got some poetry in it after all.

Excuse me.

Sorry.

See you later.

Hey. Hey! It's going to be OK.

What? How?

Vernon Early is going to tell the truth.

You look tired.

I'm fine.

(Phone vibrates)

Are you getting enough sleep?

Yes.

Hey, it's Clem!

Well, I've got some good news!

We want everything she tells you about Rudy Jones.

Why?

Dad!

Who are you?

I'm a friend of a friend of your father's.

You must be Dan.

When was that?

Maybe 15 years ago.

Yeah, must be.

(Nick chuckles)

My God! And how tall were you then?

Ha!

What's funny?

Sorry.

There's nothing funny.

So, how are you, Dan?

I'm happy now, but I was sad before.

Sad? Why sad?

Because my sister left home to go to Oxford.

But now she's in America with Mum because she has epilepsy.

They're trying to stop them from k*lling Rudy.

They tried to execute him once before, but it didn't work.

Oh, but now they've found a man who can prove Rudy didn't do it.

That's good news. What's the name of the man?

Vernon Early.

And Daddy's been lying to me.

That's the other reason why I was sad before, by the way.

Lying about what?

It's nothing, mate. I should, er...

It's not nothing!

I always thought you told the truth.

You told me how important it was never to lie.

But you've been lying to me my entire life.

There are lies and there are lies.

I don't understand.

It's been good. I'll explain it on the way home, yeah?

Is this where you do the press-ups?

Er...yeah.

Show him, show your friend.

Er...Dan, look, the press-ups...

It's true, isn't it?

You can do eight minutes?

Yeah.

Yeah!

Ready?

Yeah.

(Nick exhales)

OK. And...go!

Right, so we file with the Supreme Court for a stay.

Will they grant it?

With evidence like this, they've got no choice.

Then we go to Washington and we just blow them away with Vern and everything they did to him.

You OK?

Yeah.

Thank you.

(Nick breathes hard)

(It's Carter...)

Come on, Dad.

You like him, I can tell.

Mum!

I was watching you.

(Clem giggles)

You could end up living here.

I can't have that!

What would I do without you?

Tell me, Mum.

What is happening?

(Phone vibrates)

Hello?

What?!

When?!

(She sighs)

Oh, God!

OK, yeah.

Yeah, OK.

They've arrested Vernon.

What?!

For perjury.

How did they know?

He only talked to us.

You didn't tell anyone?

Only Dan.

Was he with Dad?

Why?

Mum?

Who is that?

Dunno. Can't find him.

The cars?

My man in Swansea can't trace the owners.

I've never had that.

What does that tell you?

They're good.

It's big.

Nick is into something very dark.

But on which side of the fence?

(He chuckles)

Is there a fence any more, hm?

The police spy on the Lawrence family, the royal family quite liked h*tler, so, where's the fence?

Our national treasures include the Kray twins and the Great Train Robbers.

So, who are the bad guys and who's good?

I do know that this is a big story.

She's your best friend.

Our DPP.

Yes.

Mm.

My question is, when it comes down to it, which would you put first?

The truth, or friendship?

The story, or Maya Cobbina?

Who are you?

Where are you from?

Auchtermuchty.

Um...she's in America.

And him?

Dropped your pen.

We've taken out an insurance policy...on the whole family.

(Barking)

Are you...are you all right?

Yes.

What...what is he?

He's a dog.

Huh!

He's called Rocco.

Aw! He's got a beautiful coat.

So have you.

Thank you.

You're white.

Really white.

I suppose.

Do people laugh at you?

No.

I...I have to go now.

OK.

I don't know your name.

No.

My name is Lola.

Please can we meet again, please?

Sure.

Here, in an hour.

Oh, well, I've got stuff to do, but...Monday?

Yes. OK.

Great.

Right here, this bench, same time on Monday.

OK.

Bye.

(Music plays through headphones)

Oh, hey!

Er...where's Clem?

Maya...?

I went to Highgate Cemetery.

What, just now?

Why?

George Eliot... Karl Marx... Nicholas Johnson.

Aged eight.

A dead child, Nick.

With the same date of birth as you.

The same place of birth... on his death certificate.

Somebody's...dead little boy.

Please!

Please!

Say something.

Oh!

Oh!

(She quietly sobs)

(Sweetheart...?) NO!

Mum?!

(OK.)

Mum?

Mum, what's wrong?

Um...M-Mum had a fit.

(She sighs)

I stopped because of you.

I fell in love with you.

So I stopped.

Then they came for me again.

You were spying on me...the first time you said you loved me?

(She sighs)

When Clem was born?

When our little baby girl nearly d*ed?

You've stolen my life!

Maya, you can't tell the children.

How will I explain that you don't live here any more?

HE SIGHS OK.

OK.

Dan? Dan, mate?

Coming, Daddy.

When he comes in, tell him.

Tell him everything I've told you.

Er...Mum's got something she wants to tell you.

I love you.

I know.

Hm!

(Door closes)

See, you can't do it, can you?

You love him too much to hurt him.

That...that...that's what it's like.

It's exactly the same for me.

You gave them Vern!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No, Maya.

Please, that wasn't me.

All right? I was with my handler, Dan was looking for me... Christ!

Yes, he was looking for me and he found us!

And then Dan just said it, I couldn't stop him!

Why do they care about Rudy?

(She sighs)

It all connects.

Where are you going?

No, no, no, no! No, Maya, you shouldn't be driving!

What?

You have epilepsy and you're not taking any medication.

Come on, it's...it's not safe.

Maya, I don't want you to die.

Get out of my way!

I'll be right outside.

He's right by my side.

Who is?

Jesus Christ.

Can I ask you about Michael Antwi?

Jesus wants to ask you something first.

What does he want?

Can he have a look at your breasts?

Then he'll let you ask about the golliwog.

Can you speak to me without Jesus interrupting?

Can you do that?

(Can you give me five minutes?)

(Yeah?)

Yeah.

You pleaded guilty to manslaughter.

He told me to.

Who did - Jesus?

My QC.

That would be unethical.

I don't know about that, but I can quote you what he said.

He leant forward, spoke very quietly.

"The evidence is very strong, the offer's very good. If you fight this, there's a high chance you'll go down for m*rder, which means life imprisonment. My advice is to plead guilty to manslaughter. Of course, it's entirely a matter for you."

Here I am, 20 years later.

You're a violent r*cist.

You hate me because of the colour of my skin.

The chances of me feeling sorry for you are very, very small.

But here you are, 20 years later.

I love v*olence.

And to be good at it, you have to be committed.

You can't hold back, you have to get in fast and hard, shock the f*ck out of people.

Argh!

Then they go down quickly and easily.

It's the surprise that counts.

The look on people's faces when they get hit by me is never pain, it's amazement.

That didn't happen with your boy in there, it was a faceoff.

'Then it was a fight.

'Neither of us was surprised when it happened.'

Yargh!

What are you saying?

What I'm saying is he gave as good as he got.

What...are you saying?

(Ask Jesus.)

What are you...what are you saying?

Show him your breasts and he'll tell you.

Hm.

When they pulled me out of the cell and took me away... your n*gg*r boy wasn't dead.

I failed.

You failed?

They told me to k*ll him.

I had him on the march and then some big sh*t co*n stepped in!

Nick?

Hm?

Um...why did they want him dead?

Why did they want Michael dead?

Jesus saved me from them.

Saved you from who?

From the ones who told me to k*ll him!

Who?

The CIA!

(She exhales)

(She exhales)

(She sobs)

(She exhales)

Where is she?

(Low chatter)

Are you all right?

Yeah.

You wanted to meet, but you haven't said why.

You don't know where she is, do you?

She's...got more cautious.

It's harder to get to her.

Makes my job harder.

What are you saying?

You've got to let me know more.

You have to let me in so I can ask the right questions.

What happened to Michael Antwi that night?

You don't need to know.

Do you know?

No.

Come on! That doesn't...that doesn't work any more.

What?

How do you know what to ask me if you don't know what the truth is?

Are you losing it, Nick?

Like you lost it the last time?

No.

You have to trust me.

Just hold your nerve.

What do you want?

I want the truth about what happened that night.

I know he didn't die in the cell.

There's something you don't know about me.

I'm dying.

I have six months.

What, you think I'm going to talk to you because they can't hurt a dying man?

I have six months life left in me.

I am not going to spend it with you, trying to explain the past.

I could witness summons you.

You could, but you're a decent human being.

You won't do that to me.

OK, just forget that I'm a lawyer and that you're a police officer.

Just the truth now.

No-one else, just you and me.

They pulled him out the cell.

Go, go. Just get in there, get him out!

Go! Go! Go!

Get him off! Get off!

Hold him! Hold him down!

Get his legs! Hold him! Stay still!

Argh!

Stop struggling!

Stay still! Hold him!

We got him, we got him!

Stay still! It's fine. Hold him. Stay still!

Who put Michael in the cell with Peter Mackie?

It starts with a mistake.

Good people make a mistake.

But the mistake isn't it. That's not the story.

You've been trying to prosecute the mistake when you should be going after what happened afterwards.

Trimble put them in a cell together, but he'd be the wrong man.

Start with the wrong man.

Thank you.

That's how he d*ed.

He was alive when he came out of the cell.

The police officers who pulled him out, they thought he was fighting them.

He was struggling to breathe and they took his struggles for resistance.

So, the held him down, his chest pressed hard against the floor.

Positional Asphyxiation is the term.

Justice. Finally.

No.

I need to ask your permission for something.

Yes?

Not to prosecute the men who did this.

Why?

Because there are bigger fish.

Much bigger, much more dangerous, untouched by guilt or remorse.

Those are the people that should pay for Michael's death.

You are like a daughter to me.

I lost a son and gained a daughter.

The answer is yes.

Thank you for seeing me, Mr Trimble.

I know why you're here.

I've been waiting for this.

There's a tape.

Right. Do you know where is it?

It's here. I've got it.

Can I have a look?

I don't understand. I can't hear what he's saying.

There's no sound.

"Take the hit," he says. The Scotsman.

And I did.

Who is he?

I don't know. I mean, I can't find him.

He was there on the day and I thought he must be the Duty Inspector.

You've looked for him?

Of course - for 20 years. There's nothing.

Take the hit for who?

Well, I don't know.

I can't find the Scotsman, so I can't find anything else.

Take the hit for what?

He put Michael Antwi and Peter Mackie in the cell together.

Are there any other tapes?

All gone.

They're pawns - Mackie, Rose, Trimble.

They're all foot soldiers, all three.

Well, why have you come back here?

I don't trust anyone else.

You could go home...

Have you got enough on them?

I could prosecute them all tomorrow - the broken man, the dying man, the man who doesn't know who he is unless Jesus or the CIA tells him.

How did he get like that?

How did you get like this?

Who's responsible?

Julia?

'I need to see you. It's really important Maya.'

Where did you get this?

A colleague took it.

The Scotsman.

What? Who's the Scotsman?

Can I take this?

Yeah, yeah. It's a copy.

What's happening, Maya, hm?

Mum?

Hello.

I waited up for you.

Aw!

You found him.

What are you talking about?

What is Dad doing with him?

Where did you get this?

Who is he?

The man who found Rocco.

He was here in the house?

Yeah. Obviously.

Mum?

You r*ped me.

What?

No.

Yes.

No, Maya, I...

Stop saying my name.

You are a r*pist.

I gave my consent...

I fell in love with someone who isn't you.

Who are you?

I can't tell you about that.

That is a choice. You've chosen them over me.

No, no, no. It's not a choice.

It's always a choice.

They'd k*ll me if they knew I'd disclosed to you!

But you tell them everything about me. Isn't that right, Nick?

Nothing held back.

What have you told them about Michael Antwi?

Nick?

Abigail Strickland was found dead two minutes away from where I was supposed to talk to her about Michael Antwi.

She was coming to see me.

Was that you?

Huh?!

Who's this?

Where did you get this?

What's his name?

They k*lled her.

You k*lled her.

An ex-cr*ck addict overdosing on heroin down some shitty alley?

Couldn't they do better?

You're still doing it, aren't you?

You tell them everything and you tell me nothing.

You have chosen!

What kind of a monster are you?

This, this is what I have done for you.

Because I love you so much and I could not bear to see you hurt.

What's this?

I loved him.

You would have loved him. He was a great man.

The children would have had a grandfather.

And I didn't even go to his funeral.

I loved him so much. This is all I've got left.

Maya, they forced me to come back.

They threatened me. They blackmailed me.

Nobody can know the truth.

That is not for you to decide.

All right, well, this is what will happen if it the truth gets out.

I'm not listening to you, I... I can say this! I'm allowed to say this!

Shut up! I'm allowed to say this. I'm allowed.

They're my children too!

It will be the end of the Antwi investigation.

It will be the end of Rudy, cos they will make damn sure they k*ll him a second time round.

It will be the end of our family - Dan, Ella, Clemmie, destroyed.

You've imagined this and you've rehearsed it.

Yeah, of course, I have.

I have lived in fear of this moment happening for all our time together.

The more I've loved you, the bigger the fear.

I've looked at the smiling faces of our kids and I've been terrified, that they would find out.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Nothing uncontaminated.

You cannot let this out.

Oh!

I'll never trust you again.

I will never sleep in the same bed as you again.

You will never touch me.

But you're right... we have to stay together.

You have trapped me.

Mark?

What?

Hold on.

Vernon Early is dead.

He d*ed of a heart att*ck in a police station.

Another black man, another heart att*ck.

You did this.

Who's next, Nick?