15x16 - Judgement Day

[bunniefuu]

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why do you miss when my baby kisses me?

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why does a love kiss stay in my memory? ♪

MUSIC: 'Time Has Told Me' by Nick Drake

♪ Time has told me

♪ You're a rare, rare find

♪ A troubled cure

♪ For a troubled mind

♪ And time has told me

♪ Not to ask for more

♪ For someday our ocean

♪ Will find its shore

♪ So I'll leave the ways that are making me be...

Ah! One large malt. Right, Sir Richard?

♪ What I really don't want to be

♪ Leave the ways that are making me love

♪ What I really don't want to love

♪ Time has told me

♪ You came with the dawn

♪ A soul with no footprint

♪ A rose with no thorn...

Can I give you this, Mr Blaketon?

You know I'm always on the lookout for news stories.

Running a busy pub like this, you must hear of quite a few goings-on.

Perhaps you could let me know any juicy ones.

What makes you think I'll do that, Mr Downing?

Because I pay for good tip-offs. I'll make it worth your while, OK?

OSCAR: He's a nasty piece of work.

He'll be getting no tip-offs out of me.

GINA: Nor me, after what he did to Bernie a few weeks ago.

Er, Park Drive, please.

So, Constable.

What's happening in the great big, wicked world of Aidensfield?

Very little, I hope. Of a criminal nature.

That's the spirit.

Never let a crime come between you and your next cup of tea, right?

Oh, no!

Good God!

I don't know how anybody had time to do it.

I couldn't have been away for two minutes, boss.

I don't suppose you saw anything, officer.

- No, sir. - Well, don't just stand there, man!

Start asking around to see if anybody else did!

♪ Not to ask for more

♪ So someday our ocean

♪ Will find its shore... ♪

Well, nobody over there saw anybody messing about with the car.

- Take me home, Briscoe. - Right, Sir Richard.

I shall expect a full investigation of this matter, officer.

Right, sir.

- Thanks, Gina. - Thanks, Peg. Ta-ra.

Of course, you know who that is, don't you?

Should I?

That is Sir Richard Lonsdale, QC.

Known to the tabloids as "The Tiger of the Old Bailey."

Recently retired, and he and his wife

have moved back to Wetherdale Hall.

Really. I'd better see if anyone here saw anything, then.

Yeah, good idea.

Hello, David. What have you got there, then?

Oh, it's my new radio.

Ooh!

Actually, I just got it at the jumble sale down at the church hall.

- It's a bit battered. - Well, it works, though.

Go on, then. Switch it on.

MUSIC PLAYS

CHANNEL SURFING, THEN MUSIC PLAYS

'Ey, I reckon you got yourself a bit of a bargain there, David.

Yeah, I like a bit of radio myself. For a change.

Morning Story.

And, of course, everything on the Third Programme.

What other stations can you get?

Er...

PHIL: 'Where are you, Rob? Over.'

ROB: 'Just leaving the Aidensfield Arms.'

ROB: 'I wanted to report an incident. Over.'

PHIL: 'Go ahead. Over.'

ROB: 'Someone vandalised a vehicle parked outside,

took a nasty scratch out of the paintwork.'

No, hang on! That's the police!

Well, yeah, they're just outside.

I'd better change the station quick.

No, don't be daft.

Aunt Peg, it's got to be illegal, listening to the police.

But they don't know we are, do they?

Well, what if they find out?

Well, how can they?

It still seems a bit risky to me, though, Peg.

But then it's only by taking risks

that the great fortunes of the world are made, Rosie.

I can't see how eavesdropping on police broadcasts

is gonna make anybody's fortune.

But then that's because you aren't blessed with my imagination,

in't it, lovey?

My gift for literal thinking.

Here.

TUNES RADIO

So, did you report it to the police?

A member of the local plod promised to make a few inquiries.

I'm not holding my breath.

In my experience, they're worse than useless, these country coppers.

So touching, though, Richard, your faith in your fellow human beings.

Will you still be wanting to go for your usual ride, Sir Richard?

Of course. But first, I must make a phone call.

MUSIC: 'But I Might Die Tonight' by Cat Stevens

Can I help you, squire?

I was just admiring the house.

You do realise this is private property?

I'm sorry, I'm afraid I didn't.

Some house, eh?

KNOCK ON DOOR

- You want a word, Sarge? - I do, yes.

I've just had the deputy chief Constable on about you.

He's had a Sir Richard Lonsdale on,

wanting to know the progress you've been making

in investigating the vandalising of his Bentley.

None so far, Sarge.

But you've asked around, presumably.

Yes, Sarge. Nobody saw anything.

Then ask harder, would you?

It seems that Sir Richard has powerful friends at court.

Yes, Sarge.

Pint of bitter, please.

- Hello again. - Oh, hello.

Can I get you one?

Yeah, go on then, yeah. I'll have an half with you.

- And a half, please, landlord. - You see, David,

newspapers pay for tip-offs.

And the way I see it, if we keep tuned in to that police waveband,

well, we're bound to find some things that they'd be interested in.

So tomorrow, me and you are going to pay a visit to the Gazette offices.

Do I really have to come, Aunt Peggy?

It's just I'm not very good at that sort of thing.

We're only going to find out whether they pay or not.

You don't have to say a word.

Just listen and learn.

Somebody had a go at your gaffer's Bentley, I heard.

Yeah, that's right, yeah.

What is it about Bentleys that brings out the worst in people, eh?

So what's he like to work for?

Oh, he's not a bad bloke at all, really.

Yeah, as long as everything's done just right.

- Oh, yeah? - He's a stickler for routine.

He gets up at exactly the same time every day.

And his breakfast has to be on the table waiting for him.

He has to be brought here for one large malt at exactly o'clock.

And when he gets home, he wants his horse ready

within five minutes for his daily ride.

Always the same route, and over exactly the same distance.

Really?

MUSIC: 'But I Might Die Tonight' by Cat Stevens

♪ Because you happen to say so say so

♪ You say so

♪ I don't want to work away

♪ Doing just what they all say

♪ Work hard, boy, and you'll find

♪ One day you'll have a job like mine, job like mine

♪ A job like mine

♪ Be wise, look ahead

♪ Use your eyes, he said

♪ Be straight, think right

♪ But I might die tonight. ♪

HORSE WHINNIES

Briscoe!

Is he all right?

He's still breathing.

I'll get a doctor.

What the...?

Rob, we've had a report of a riding accident at Wetherdale Hall.

Sounds like your friend Sir Richard. Over.

Has Helen been alerted? Over.

PHIL: 'She alerted us. Over.'

ROB: 'OK, on my way. Out.'

Well, David, it looks like we're in business!

HELEN: Stay right where you are, Sir Richard,

until the ambulance arrives.

It should be here any moment.

- How is he? - There's no loss of sensation.

But I'll have to get him checked back at the hospital.

So he must have been thrown, then.

Hardly.

TYPEWRITERS CLACKING PHONE RINGS

PEGGY: So, you're the editor of this paper, Mr, er...

- Pulver. - Mr Pulver. Good.

Well, now, me and my nephew may be able to offer you... a service.

Very interesting.

Now, as I understand it, you pay for tip-offs, right?

As long as they turn out to be reliable.

No problem on that score.

Can I ask you how you obtained this information?

Oh, come on, now! You, of all people, must realise

that we journalists have to protect our sources.

Excuse me a minute.

Fred.

Follow this up, will you?

So... how much do you pay?

What are those two doing here?

Attempted m*rder?

If that rope had caught him full in the throat,

it would definitely have broken his neck.

I presume he's been taken to hospital?

Yeah.

You'd best get yourself over there.

Sarge.

MUSIC: 'Rider On The Wheel' by Nick Drake

I really think you ought to have stayed in overnight, Richard.

They obviously thought you should have done.

If only for observation.

And face one of their poisonous hospital breakfasts? No, thank you.

♪ Round and round we go

♪ We take it fast and slow...

- There. - Sir Richard! Sir Richard!

- Has someone got it in for you? - Where did the rope hit?

- Go to the devil! - We just want the truth.

You heard what he said. Now get lost! Go on!

♪ Rider on the wheel

♪ And now you know my name

♪ But I don't feel the same

♪ But I ain't gonna blame

♪ The rider on the wheel. ♪

Can I have a word, please, sir?

As a matter of fact, I want a word with you.

Sir, have you any idea who might have strung that rope across?

An old enemy of yours, perhaps?

British jails are full of old enemies of mine.

What interests me more, though,

is how on Earth the press got hold of it so quickly.

It could only have come from you people.

I think that's pretty unlikely actually, sir.

Who the hell else would they have got it from?

They had chapter and verse, Constable.

They obviously also knew all about the rope.

The very last thing a retired QC of my eminence needs

is that kind of publicity.

I realise how you must feel, sir,

but the press can be pretty bolshie

about being told what they can and cannot publish.

We'll see about that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lie down.

I don't suppose you have any idea

who might have pulled a stunt like that, Lady Lonsdale?

I'm afraid I haven't, Constable.

Though, as Richard says,

he has accumulated his fair share of enemies over the years.

You're Sir Richard's regular chauffeur, right?

Chauffeur, odd-job man. You name it, I do it.

I don't suppose you've seen anyone hanging around the place, have you?

Funny you mention that. A bloke was looking at the house only yesterday.

And when I bumped into him down the Aidensfield Arms last night,

he were quizzing me about Sir Richard.

- Do you know his name? - No, I'd never seen him before.

What did he look like?

Er... six foot,

short hair, s, sort of lived-in face, you know.

- And you've no idea where he lives? - No.

Right, well, if you bump into him again, let me know, right?

Yeah, I'll do that, yeah.

PHONE RINGS

Ashfordly Police Station.

He is, sir, yes. Just a moment.

Deputy Chief Constable.

Now what?

Yes, sir.

Well, there's no way they were tipped off from here.

Although we did have a reporter call in about it.

Yes, of course. I'll phone the editor right away.

Yes, sir.

This Sir Richard Lonsdale, QC, is beginning to get right up my nose!

You didn't field any questions from the press about this,

- did you, Younger? - No, Sarge.

Maybe somebody from the hospital tipped them off.

They were damn quick if they did.

Anyway, get me the editor of the Gazette on the line, would you?

- Much good may it do me. - Right, Sarge.

Oh, and, Younger, put the kettle on.

g*nsh*t

g*nsh*t

g*nsh*t

MILLER: Yes, yes, of course.

I understand.

Any joy, Sergeant?

They put the paper to bed half an hour ago.

Which is going to make me very popular down at division.

Briscoe tells me they've just collected the Bentley

to have that scratch repaired.

So I'm going to have to borrow your car for a couple of days.

Do you need it now?

Yes, I thought I'd go down to the club.

Have a leisurely steam.

Well, you won't find it very comfortable with that collar on.

I expect I'll manage.

Thank you.

Right, Briscoe. Down to the club...

...in Her Ladyship's car. - Right, sir.

MUSIC: 'The Price Of Love' by Status Quo

♪ Wine is sweet

♪ And gin is bitter

♪ You drink all you can

♪ But you won't forget her

♪ You talk too much

♪ You laugh too loud

♪ You see her face

♪ In every crowd

♪ That's the price of love

♪ The price of love

♪ The debt you pay

♪ With tears and pain

♪ The price of love

♪ The price of love

♪ Cost you more

♪ When you're to blame... ♪

What are you doing?

I'm making sure... that nobody fiddles with this

and we end up losing the police wavelength.

Well, what happens if you want to listen to Morning Story?

Or the Third Programme?

Life's about priorities.

And, at present, our first priority is making a bob or two.

But... SIGHS

So, will you be needing me at all tonight?

No, I don't think so. See you tomorrow.

Hello, Dickie.

Long time no see.

What the hell are you doing here?

That's not very polite.

I can remember a time when you was a bit friendlier.

Those were the days, though, eh? Back in swinging London.

I have to tell you, I was delighted

when I saw you in that Bentley yesterday.

How nice for you that you'd retired to the country

while I was still inside.

If you knew the trouble I went to, to try and track you down...

Still, worth it in the end, I dare say.

Get off my land! Or I'll have someone throw you off!

Now, now, you wouldn't want to make a scene.

Incidentally, that's a very nice country club

you're a member of these days.

Carstairs. I considered joining myself,

but when I saw what they charge for membership...

Way out of my league, I'm afraid.

Mind you, I did wonder what they might think

if they knew what some of their members got up to.

Or what Lady Lonsdale might think, for that matter.

I strongly advise you, Morton, to stay well away from my wife.

LONSDALE: What is it you want, anyway?

Money, I suppose. You usually did.

Well, since you mention it, times are hard.

You stitched me up and you owe me.

You do realise I could call the police.

You can't do that, can you?

After all, what might come out in court if they put me in the dock?

See, I couldn't say too much last time,

not without getting myself into even more serious trouble.

But now, what have I got to lose?

I've done my time, thanks to you.

All right.

How much?

Shall we say two thou to be going on with?

I don't have that kind of money in the house.

That's all right. You can drop it off at my cottage tomorrow.

On Langham Lane, on the edge of the village. It's called Honey Cottage.

Isn't that sweet?

CHEERFUL MUSIC ON RADIO

KNOCK ON DOOR

g*nsh*t

Joe! Get here!

DOG BARKS

BARKS

Now, then, what we really need is a rota.

What are you talking about?

Well, to take it in turns to listen in.

So I'll take the first watch

and then, later on, you can take the second.

Aunt Peg, do you think we really ought to be doing this?

Old Chinese proverb, David, love, never look gift horse in mouth.

Besides, don't you find it exciting?

Not really, no.

And what's the address of this cottage, sir?

Yeah, I know that.

If you wouldn't mind waiting there for me, I'll be five minutes.

MOTORBIKE APPROACHES

Yes, David?

Actually, I just wanted to ask you something, Mr Blaketon.

Oh, aye?

Right, say you had this friend who had this radio, right?

And he discovered that you could pick up police broadcasts on it.

I mean, quite by accident.

Well, could... could he get into trouble for that?

You know, just for listening, like?

Well, not just for listening, he couldn't.

So what's the score, over?

Has to be m*rder, Sarge, he's been shot in the chest. Over.

So when do you reckon it might have happened? Over.

'There's a half-eaten dinner on the table, so I'd say last night. Over.'

I saw you down at the Gazette office, right.

So?

So can I buy you a drink?

No, thanks. I'm very particular about who I drink with.

I'll tell you something else for free.

Me and my Aunt Peggy are going to put you out of business.

- Oh, are you? - Yeah.

Because we've got this radio that picks up police broadcasts, right,

so there's nothing that goes on round here

that we don't hear about first.

Really?

CID are on their way.

I've just found this on the floor, Sarge.

You'd better put it back where you found it.

And look what else I found.

That's Sir Richard Lonsdale and there's Morton.

If you read these cuttings they refer to a case a few years ago

when Morton got four years

for beating up some bloke in a pub in London.

According to one of these, Sir Richard Lonsdale was prosecuting

and they reckon it was the ferocity of his summing up

that gave Morton such a savage sentence.

Well, that gives him a motive.

Is it feasible that he set the ambush up?

It seems a strong possibility, Sarge, yes.

Right. Get over to Wetherdale Hall.

See what Sir Richard has to say about all this.

Sarge.

- DAVID: Hello? - Ooh, David.

David, you'll never believe what's happened.

There's been a m*rder. I heard it on the radio.

Where?

In a cottage up on Langham Lane.

Somebody's been shot.

'Ey, you're not thinking of passing that on to the papers, are you?

Oh, no, no, no. Passing on stuff like traffic accidents and that,

that's one thing, but we don't want anything to do with any murders.

- It's a shame though, really. - Mmm.

I mean, a tip-off like that would certainly be worth a bob or two.

Yes, sir?

Neil Downing, freelance journalist.

I know who you are, Mr Downing.

And what can we do for you, Mr Downing?

It's more a case of what I can do for you actually, Sergeant.

Oh?

You do realise your police broadcasts are being monitored?

Oh, yes. That's not against the law.

The information's being sold on as tip-offs to the local paper.

And that is against the law.

And would you happen to know who might be doing this?

Does the name David Stockwell mean anything to you, Sergeant?

And his famous Aunt Peggy?

- Ah, Mr Briscoe. - Yes, Constable?

The man who was asking questions about Sir Richard the other day,

I'll need you to come to the station to ID a photograph of him.

Why, has there been further development?

We had a m*rder last night.

A m*rder?

- Is Sir Richard in? - Yeah, he's round the back.

g*nsh*t In fact that's him now,

keeping down the rabbit population.

Thanks.

g*nsh*t

PEACOCK CROWS

g*nsh*t

You do remember the case, then, sir?

I remember all my cases, Constable.

This was years ago.

We have reason to believe

that it was Morton who ambushed you the other day.

Well, have you arrested him?

He was shot and k*lled last night.

Really?

Not that I'm surprised, mind you. He was always a nasty piece of work.

Destined to come to a bad end.

He hadn't, by any chance, made any attempt to contact you, had he, sir?

Why on Earth would he do that?

Well, if he was the one who had strung that rope between the trees,

there's every possibility he might have.

After all, according to the cuttings we found in his cottage,

you really took him to pieces in court a few years ago.

I haven't seen him since I saw him being taken down

and I certainly haven't heard from him.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to be getting on with.

Excuse me, sir, your r*fle.

I'm going to have to get it over to ballistics immediately

to eliminate any match with the b*llet.

You're not seriously suggesting

I had anything to do with the sh**ting of that wretched man?

At this stage, I'm not suggesting anything, sir.

Could you also account for your movements last night between, say,

eight o'clock and the rest of the evening?

I most certainly can.

I had dinner, I watched the news on television, then I went to bed.

But don't take my word for it.

My wife will be most happy to confirm it.

In fact, why don't you ask her on your way out?

You'll find her in the conservatory.

- Lady Lonsdale? - Yes.

- PC Walker, Ashfordly police. - Yes, I remember.

Your husband tells us that he spent all last night here with you.

Can you confirm that?

There's obviously been some mistake, Constable.

Or else his memory's playing tricks on him

which, I have to say, is quite unlike Richard.

I was here, certainly, but he was out for the whole evening.

In fact, it must have been well after midnight when he got back.

- Really? - Mm.

Has she gone stark, staring mad?

That's what she tells us, sir,

and she has given us a statement to that effect.

- I'd like to make a phone call. - Of course, sir.

Would that be to your solicitor?

No it'll be to my chauffeur Briscoe.

So, er, what exactly has Miller asked you to do?

About young David, I mean?

Well, catch them redhanded if we can,

which I wouldn't have thought would be that difficult,

neither being what you might call

candidates for this year's Brain of Britain.

You're holding Sir Richard Lonsdale on suspicion of the m*rder

last night, right? - That's right.

I'm here to tell you he couldn't have done it

because he never left the house.

Our information is that he was out the entire evening.

Well, then, your information's wrong.

That information was given to us by Lady Lonsdale herself.

She's mistaken.

She does get confused sometimes,

usually after her first couple of drinks... of the morning.

And how can you be so sure he was in the house?

Well, two reasons. One, because I saw him in there,

through the window, having been in my flat all evening.

And the other reason?

Well, because I only went to bed myself at about . in the morning,

and he never asked me to drive him anywhere.

- Couldn't he have driven himself? - No, he can't..

Drive, I mean.

LONSDALE: I can't believe you are still questioning me, Sergeant.

We've just had a call from ballistics

confirming your r*fle was the m*rder w*apon.

What?

Under the circumstances,

I must request that you remain here until you've had a word with CID.

Take him to the interview room would you, Younger?

- This way, sir. - Take your hands off me, boy.

Somebody's lying.

Could even be Briscoe, to give his boss an alibi.

Hell of a thing to do though, in a m*rder case.

And Sir Richard doesn't exactly strike me

as being the kind of boss who'd inspire that kind of loyalty.

Or me.

So why is his wife lying? If she is lying.

At least we've got the m*rder w*apon, Sarge.

To which Sir Richard had access, as did his wife, presumably.

And Briscoe, since he's living on the premises.

No, it seems to me, Sarge,

that the bit of the puzzle that's missing is the motive.

Why would any of the three of them want to k*ll Morton?

I wonder whether we should have another look at Morton's cottage,

see if we missed anything.

Wouldn't do any harm, I suppose.

MUSIC: 'Into White' by Cat Stevens

♪ I built my house

♪ From barley rice

♪ Green pepper walls

♪ And water ice

♪ Tables of paper wood

♪ Windows of light

♪ And everything emptying

♪ Into white... ♪

How well did you know Morton, Sir Richard?

As far as I was concerned, he was simply another case I dealt with.

But you knew him before then?

Did I?

Didn't you?

We'd met, yes.

So, would you describe yourself as friends?

Possibly close friends?

Hardly.

Only you seem quite close

in this photograph we found amongst his possessions.

I mean, I wouldn't have thought

many people would feel free to call you...

...Dickie.

Especially somebody like Morton.

And the other thing that's baffling me

is how you ended up ripping him apart in court like that,

if you were so close.

Unless there'd been a...

a falling out between the two of you.

I think, Sergeant, I should like to have my solicitor present.

Of course.

ALF: So, come on, whose idea was it? Yours, I suppose.

I'm sorry, I don't know what you're on about.

I'm talking about this new cottage industry

that you've just launched.

Listening in to police broadcasts

and tipping off the local paper for money.

Sorry, I'm afraid I still don't know what you're on about.

Listen, Peggy, I'm trying to do you a favour.

I'm laying my head on the block.

I'm not doing it for your sake, but certainly for his.

You've been reported.

Who by?

A certain journalist who resented you muscling in on his patch.

- Was it Downing? - Who else?

Well, how did he find out?

My information is that a little birdie told him.

Isn't that so, David?

Oh, David!

You didn't!

Well, I didn't mean to.

It's just after what he did to Bernie, I just...

He just got me going, that's all.

It's my own fault, I suppose,

for involving him in this in the first place.

Now listen. Tonight there's going to be a broadcast

about a big job that's coming up.

Only there isn't a job.

It's been set up to catch you two redhanded.

So, whatever you hear on the radio, don't go anywhere near it,

or Miller will have you.

Why did you tell us your husband was out Tuesday night?

According to Briscoe, you were both in all evening.

Well, how would Briscoe know? He wasn't here.

Wasn't he?

No, he was out the entire evening.

Must have been the small hours before he got back.

I heard the car driving up.

My car.

He claims he was in all evening.

His word against mine.

Have you ever seen this before?

No. I can't say that I have.

It was found in the cottage where Morton was shot.

Was it really?

Did many people call your husband Dickie?

Huh! I can't think of anyone who'd dare.

Does it surprise you, then, to see it written on this photo?

It would have done before yesterday,

when Morton called round to see my husband.

And I caught the gist of their conversation...

and realised from that that they were old friends.

Well... rather more than old friends.

You never realised until then?

Well, I had an idea that Richard had some sort of double life,

but I never knew just what it was he got up to.

The amazing thing was how brazen he was when I challenged him about it.

He told me the whole story.

How Morton had picked a fight with the new lover Richard had found.

Someone younger, of course.

And prettier, presumably. He beat him within an inch of his life.

And Richard got his revenge by representing the other boy in court,

giving one of his legendary performances,

which resulted in Morton being given a quite savage sentence.

So was your husband here Tuesday night, or wasn't he?

Yes, Constable, he was here.

Then why did you tell us he wasn't?

I suppose I was taking my revenge.

After all, it isn't every day that a wife finds out

that for the last years of her marriage,

all she's been providing is cover

for her husband's real sexual proclivities.

Right, Younger, there's your script.

At precisely six o'clock, you make your first announcement.

Bellamy, you've got the address?

- Yes, Sarge. - Be there in good time.

Will I get into trouble for lying to you?

Under the circumstances, I'll see what I can do,

but we'll have to see what Sergeant Miller says.

Has Briscoe worked for you long?

Not long, no.

BIRDSONG

PC YOUNGER: 'Attention all units, target is confirmed

as Damson's factory, Monument Road.'

YOUNGER: 'All units start to move into position.'

That's it, David. The dummy broadcast.

You're not thinking of trying to sell that, are you?

What I'm thinking, David, is if there's one thing I can't stand,

it's being bested by the likes of Downing.

And what's more,

I've just had a very malicious idea concerning that gentleman.

Well, what are you going to do?

You said that on the night of the m*rder you were here.

- Yeah, that's right, yeah. - According to Lady Lonsdale,

you were out and didn't get back till the early hours.

Well, she's obviously lying again,

or been hitting the bottle even harder than usual.

Then there's the question of the fingerprints.

What fingerprints?

On the stock of the r*fle.

Which r*fle?

Sir Richard's. You see, we were expecting to find his dabs on it,

but the others, well, they're a bit more puzzling.

I'd like to ask you to come to the station and give me a set of yours.

Right.

I'll get my jacket.

Now, then, here we go.

What's that phrase?

Low down and dirty.

Only, when I'm doing this, I want you to go and get the drinks in.

Preferably next to our friend Mr Downing.

MUSIC: 'Clothes Of Sand' by Nick Drake

♪ Clothes of sand have covered your face

♪ Given you meaning, taken my place

♪ So make your way on down HORSE WHINNIES

♪ To the sea

♪ Something has taken you so far from me... ♪

Are you going somewhere?

David. David.

You'll never guess what I've just heard

coming over the police waveband.

Apparently, there's this big police operation going on

up at Damson's factory.

Some international g*ng, they reckon,

and the police are there now waiting for them.

LAUGHS Ooh!

Why did you do a runner, Mr Briscoe?

I was scared, wasn't I?

I know what coppers are like when you get us inside the nick.

You've had experience of that before, have you?

You weren't perhaps worried about the fingerprints on the r*fle

matching up with yours?

Well, were you or weren't you?

Why did you sh**t him, Mr Briscoe? Did Sir Richard put you up to it?

No, he had nothing to do with it.

Look, that little toad were blackmailing him, right?

Threatening to ruin him.

I couldn't just stand by and let him do that.

Not when I saw how it were affecting Sir Richard.

It hurt me to see how upset he was.

He means the world to me.

I didn't mean to k*ll Morton. I just meant to scare him off, you know,

but then I saw him standing there and the next thing I just...

But Sir Richard knew nothing about any of this.

I did it for him, but it were all my own idea.

You know, it were just to scare him off.

Mr Downing.

Fancy meeting you here.

I was passing. Saw your car. Wondered what was going on.

PC YOUNGER: 'Control to all cars! Control to all cars!'

Seems to be a very peculiar sound coming from your boot.

YOUNGER: 'The foxes are approaching the coop.'

Do you know, that sounds like a police broadcast.

YOUNGER: 'I repeat, the foxes are approaching the coop.'

I never saw that before in my life.

That's what they all say, isn't it, Mr Downing?

So... can I see him?

As you're a material witness in the case, I'm afraid not, sir.

Walker...

I could have sworn that the forensic report said

that the r*fle was clean of fingerprints.

Really, Sarge?

It's a good job Briscoe doesn't get a copy of that report, then.

- GINA: There you go. - PEGGY: I'll get these.

Out of your ill-gotten gains, I suppose.

Now, then, Oscar.

So, who are we drinking to?

Well, how about Mr Downing?

PEGGY GIGGLES

Now then, David, tomorrow me and you are going to do a bit of shopping.

Oh, really? What for?

To get you a new radio, of course!