01x01 - Episode 1

[bunniefuu]

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

♪ Looking out from
my lonely room

♪ Day after day

♪ Bring it home, baby

♪ Make it soon

♪ I give my love to you. ♪

They've still got it,
haven't they? Who?

Badfinger.

You do know it's a
cover band, right?

I was wondering.

Hey, er, I seen Micky
Potts the other day.

Yeah, he says CID are
looking at Llandarcy again.

Who at CID?

New boss.

Jackie Roberts, as in Jackelyn.

Have they got new
evidence or something?

I don't know.

Well, has it been assigned yet?

Should've kept my mouth
shut, shouldn't I?

Oh, ta. Cheers.

Thought these might
come in handy.

Life-saver.

Thanks, love.

Wish me luck in the Wild West.

Wild North-West.

What?

I knew you'd forget.

The match.

Neath Rugby Club.

You hate rugby!

That is not true.
That is an untruth.

Name three members
of the national team.

Er, Barry John.

Two to go.

All right, it's a schmooze.

A long, boring but
essential schmooze

if I'm going to climb
the greasy pole.

What time does it start
tonight? Er, be ready by seven.

Here, why don't you get
yourself something, eh?

Don't be late!

Don't be late yourself!

Hello, my friends.
Saturday morning is here.

Five minutes to ten, it's sunny,

and this is Stuart with you live
and ready to start your day.

♪ There she stood in the street

♪ Smiling from her
head to her feet

♪ I said, hey, what is this?

♪ Now, baby, maybe
she's in need of a kiss

♪ I said, hey, what's
your name, baby?

♪ Maybe we can see
things the same

♪ Now don't you wait
or hesitate... ♪

♪ All right now

♪ Baby, it's all right now

♪ All right now

♪ Baby, it's all right now... ♪

What do you want for
your tea, Geraldine?

Something quick.
We're going out.

Quick's not a food I've ever
heard of. Have you, Sita?

No, Mrs H, I can't say I have.

What about your
favourite? Fish fingers?

You can't go out on
an empty stomach!

You tell her, Mrs
H. You tell her.

What I'm saying, Ma'am,

is if you're looking at
the Llandarcy murders,

well, nobody knows
the case like me.

Plus, I'm not exactly overworked

and my boss will second
me in a heartbeat.

That's not much of a
recommendation, is it?

No, seriously, the bottom
line is I'd like in, Ma'am.

Look, I don't deny we're
looking at it again

and so far it hasn't
been assigned.

Truth is, it's the scientists
who are pushing it.

Based on new evidence?

He's not in the system, is he?

And does the DNA prove that
Sandra's k*ller was the same man

that k*lled the other
two? I can't divulge that.

Ma'am, you can trust me...

And nor will I until
I assign the case.

Ahem.

And it's Boss or Jackie,

not Ma'am.

You were CID here at the time?

Very junior.

But, er, one of the good guys.

Look...

Oh, Paul. Paul.

I'm still getting my feet under
the table, and I'll be frank,

I'm more into fresh starts
than raking over past mistakes.

Oh, sure, I understand
that, but DNA is DNA.

I hadn't finished.

I did not get where I am
by taking the easy path.

So if there's a snowflake's
chance we can bring this man

to justice, rest assured I
will give it my best shot.

Thanks for coming in and staking
your claim so fulsomely, Paul.

Thank you, Ma'am. Er, Boss.

Oh, and, er, thank
you for your time.

Hey-hey! There he
is! Go on, Phil boy!

Size isn't everything!

f*cking boring, innit? Rugby?

Not sure this is the
game at its finest, Boss.

You can't fool me, Paul.

Poor Sandra.

If only she'd got
k*lled in Port Talbot,

she'd have a real detective
investigating her case

with a chance of a result.

Not f*cking funny, Tony.

The truth hurts, mate.

Look, we know who it was and
we're going to nail the b*stard.

Oh, yeah? Biding your time, are you?
Waiting for your optimum moment?

It's been three months, boys.

f*ck this.

Let's even the odds!

So, you think you've
found someone for Sandra?

Oh, he's good, isn't he?

He's very good. Silky.

Well? Do you?

Come on, boys.

Sandra's boyfriend.

He's married, he's got form and
he was this close to cracking

when we sweated him.

f*cking solicitor
pulled the plug.

OK.

So this bloke was seeing
her behind his wife's back?

You must have more than that?

You know what I'm thinking, Si?

Solicitors don't
work on Saturdays.

And the ones that
do are tough Mm.

What do you say, Paul? Want
to meet our prime suspect?

Sure.

Price of admission.

Right, let's have some fun.

You coming?

John, meet our colleague
from Port Talbot.

He wanted to make your
acquaintance, didn't you, Paul?

Hop in the car, John.

Don't make us cuff you
in front All right.

I'll get my coat.

Yes, good. Well-timed.

Good stuff. And again,
then. Let's see you.

Phil!

Keep going, I want to see 'em.

All right? Doing your
bit for the community?

How's it going, Paul? All right?

Yeah, can't complain. You?

Oh, hanging in there, you know.

Listen, Phil, I've been
talking to the new boss.

She wants to take a look
at the Llandarcy murders.

Huh?

Yeah, I know.

Why? There's new evidence.

Including DNA.

Bring it! Go on, then! Oi!

f*cking pack it in! Gethin!

You know what I'm going to ask.

Sorry, mate.

Too many ghosts, too painful.

Yeah, but ghosts need to be
laid to rest, don't they?

Plus DNA's not all it's
cracked up to be, is it?

They had DNA on
the Lambert m*rder.

Couldn't solve it, could they?

Nah.

Sandra should've been linked to
the Llandarcy murders from day one.

You of all people know
better than anyone,

that's where the rot started.

Flattery will get you nowhere.

Where are you basing yourself?

Well,

we haven't had the official
green light yet, but, er...

Getting ahead of
yourself as usual?

I need this, Phil.

We both do.

And so do those r*pe victims.

Including your friend, Jane.

I mean, don't get me wrong,

I'm pleased she's
moved on. I am.

But, er, how real is it?

A husband and two
kids real. OK, good.

But when she's in
Tesco buying their tea,

bloke in front of
her might be him.

Bloke behind the till.

How can she be free of anything
while he's still out there,

unpunished?

Unless he's dead.

He's not dead.

You been here before, John?

No. Well, you have now.

This is... Save it, John.

Just point out
where for our guest.

The very spot, if you please.

No, this is
bullshit! Easy now!

I am not confessing to
something that I didn't do.

We're not after a
confession, John.

Just need you to
confirm the facts.

You had glass on your jeans.

Sandra had glass on
her skirt and tights.

We did it in the scrapyard.

The old van with broken
windows... You dirty b*stard...

And then there was blood. It
was glass from the window!

She had her period! How many
times?! At least once more!

Where was she left?

Sandra? Where was she left?

Down there.

f*cking middle of
nowhere. By design.

You could take your time. And
no-one could hear her scream.

I don't own a car.

I can't drive a car.

So how did I get her down here?

Magic carpet?

And there we were about
to offer you a lift home

to the door.

Let's go, Paul.

What? We're just
leaving him here?

You got a problem with that?

Let's go!

Hey!

What's this?

Good behaviour?

I wouldn't go that far.

Slow day, you know?

Right.

I'll, er, put the kettle on.

Slow down.

We're coming up
on Sandra's house.

That's her mother, Pat.

And her dad?

Stepdad. Dai Williams.

Did you look at him?

Alibi.

Out driving his taxi that night.

You miss working here, Pauline?

Don't be daft. What
is there to miss?

Let her answer!

Not really.

There you go. She always wanted
to work in a clothes shop.

I mean, I miss you two.

Having a laugh.

Bit up themselves at
the shop, are they?

Not really.

Just...

..different, you know?

What about that
dress in the window?

The turquoise one?

You said you'd
get me a discount.

She said maybe she'd
get you a discount.

I thought you
weren't allowed out?

I'll sneak off just as
Generation Game starts.

Face the music tomorrow.

They're doing my bloody
head in at the moment.

It's that girl from Neath.

Sandra something.

What girl?

The one who got m*rder*d.

Dad won't shut up about it.

m*rder*d? I...

..never heard about that.

You probably just forgot.

It was ages ago.

People are always getting
m*rder*d in Neath.

They are not, Geraldine...

Come on!

Busy?

Well, I, er...

I didn't want to jinx
it, OK, by telling you.

Jinx what?

They might be
reopening the case.

They might ask me
to work on it again.

There's a lot of "mights".

And you honestly thought
I'd be averse to the idea?

We share everything now, OK?

That's the rules.

Well, that's if
they give it to me.

Of course they'll
bloody give it to you.

You were the one who said
to be ready by seven.

I couldn't get Warren
out of the bar.

Come.

Cheers.

You ready, Mrs Bethell?

Yes.

♪ Baby, if you just say you care

♪ Follow you most anywhere

♪ Roll away the stone
Roll away the stone

♪ And in the darkest night

♪ I'll keep you
safe and all right

♪ Roll away the stone
Roll away the stone

♪ Won't you roll away the stone?

♪ Why be cold and so alone?

♪ Won't you roll
away the stone... ♪

Lovely.

Thank you!

Everything all right?

Yeah.

You're a bloody
awful liar, you are.

Go on inside.

Don't leave me with
them all night.

Promise. Just let
me talk to Phil

and I'll come and
save you, all right?

Hiya, ladies, how are
you? Looking good.

Er, G&T? Yes, please.

Bye.

Hi.

Where the f*ck did you get to?

I had to get a lift with Phil!

Me, in a Reliant Robin,

with Neath CID f*cking
pissing themselves.

Sorry, boss.

Large scotch, darling
- one for yourself.

Thanks for cheering us on!

You win, then? Don't
pretend you care.

I won't!

Look, Phil, I...

I did something stupid.

Really f*cking stupid.

Barman's got his
eyes on you, Pauline.

She's young enough Geraldine!

Are you trying to
get us thrown out?

We'll have one more in here and
then get the bus to Swansea.

Hey, if we're not drinking drinking,
let's just get the bus now.

If you want to get sloshed,
don't let us stop you.

How about we stop here for
the night and forget Swansea?

Oi, you!

Oh, sh*t... You! Out!

What've I said about
hanging around in pubs?

We're not drinking or anything...
I'm not talking to you!

What the hell are you wearing?

They're not looking at
local sex offenders,

they're not even looking
at her stepfather

who was out in his taxi
the night she was k*lled.

And they're not looking at a DC from
Port Talbot to solve it, either.

Well, they wanted my
opinion this afternoon,

let me tell you. Or just an unpaid
driver who'd keep his mouth shut.

Point being, Morgan can't drive.

How does he dump Sandra at
the colliery without a car?

It's not our case,
Paul. Look, you know me.

I don't care about the messenger

as long as the message
gets delivered.

If they're focused
on this Morgan bloke,

the k*ller gets a free pass.

So plenty of time to
find a new victim.

Hello, girls.

Evening, Mr Watkins.

I was saying to my wife,
it's warm for September,

but the nights'll draw
in all the same...

Bye, Mr Watkins.

Have a good night.

You should talk to
Chris Wynne maybe.

He was seconded to
Neath a while back.

He might know something.

Wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait...

Come on, Pauline, let's go! I
can't find my keys, Geraldine!

It was an ongoing case
when I was up in Neath.

Three or four
r*pes, as I recall.

They catch the bloke?

No. But with Griffiths in
charge, I'm not surprised.

So, potentially, the r*pist
could be Sandra's k*ller?

Moving up through the
gears, so to speak?

He's not f*cking talking shop again,
is he? Can't take him anywhere!

Sabrina says you're
neglecting her.

Karina. ♪ Karina. ♪

I'll tell you
something I do know.

Look upon that face.

Look in those eyes.

Clever. Misses nothing.

Chief Inspector by 40, I reckon.

Oh...

Enter Tony Blair, arriving
in Blackpool today

where trade union leaders are
asking for exactly the same,

proof that w*r against
Iraq is justified.

We say, before you
contemplate any w*r anywhere,

show the people the evidence.

Show the people the evidence.

Sandra didn't know
them, did she?

Pauline and Geraldine?

No.

We looked and looked
for a link between them.

You know, club, pub.

Nothing.

Are you still sure
there was a link?

They were k*lled by the same
man, there's no question.

Paul Bethell. Paul,
Jackie Roberts.

Late for a bloody
dinner, so I'll be brief.

Yes, boss.

The Llandarcy job is yours.

In answer to your
earlier question,

attempts to link Sandra Newton
to Geraldine and Pauline via DNA

are inconclusive but ongoing.

Right, I understand.

Good. I need to go.

Thank you.

And thank you for
trusting me with this.

O ye of little faith.

That programme will be
shown again on Thursday

at three o'clock on BBC Two.

Well, it's now just 17
minutes past midnight,

time on BBC One for us to
wish you a very goodnight.

Goodnight.

Ahem.

Bethell house? It's
a bad one, Paul.

We need you in.

Boss? All hands on deck.

Llandarcy woods, off
the Swansea road.

All right, I'll be there now.

Just round the corner, up
the top of the hill there.

Denver!

She's not here.

Well, they must've
stopped at Pauline's.

Local farmer made the discovery.

Walter Watkins.

Admits knowing the girls.

He saw them last
night at the bus stop.

Girls?

Looks like she ran for the road.

Almost made it, too.

Tripped on a bramble.

Whoa! What are you doing, son?!

Bloke says his
daughter's Stop there!

Hang on! Stop
there, please, sir!

Oh! Oh! Oh! Come on, come on.

No! No!

No!

No...!

Want me to, er, come
in with you, sir?

No.

No, thanks.

What's your name?

Er, DC Bethell.

Paul.

Thank you, Paul.

Of all the places!

Tell me about it.

So we've got the k*ller's
DNA, and that's it?

More or less.

And he's not on the database?
They're sure of that?

We're building our own database.

Swabbing men who
lived locally in '73

aged between 16 and 50.

16 and 50?

That's a lot of shoe leather!

Yeah, it is.

Welcome home.

Hello?

So, how big's our team?

Just the three of us for now.

What?!

You said low double figures!

What can I tell you?
I don't know, Paul,

but three is seven
short of double figures.

I asked for 12, I got two.

No, sorry.

You assured me this would
be properly staffed.

And I signed up on that basis.

Hello?

Geraint! In here.

Hey, Geraint, Phil.
Phil, Geraint.

Good to meet you, Phil.

Yeah. Likewise.

I thought this place
shut years ago.

It's an evidence store now.

I see.

Rolling out the red
carpet, are they?

OK, if I grab a coffee, boss?

Erm, later.

Er, I want to get started first.

You serious?

I've only had a sip, man.

LLandarcy today is a
village haunted by fear.

Fear that a maniac strangler
who's already struck twice

could strike again.

It's a place where housewives
double-check their door locks at

night and where young girls
are warned to stay indoors.

k*lled within yards
of each other,

sustaining head wounds
and strangulation...

A proper incident room.

And we ain't going
home till we get him.

Warren said the
postmortem was Yeah?

Have we got the Nope.

They found grass and
mud on their feet.

Under their tights.

These two?

So they got dressed
after he r*ped them.

He let them get dressed.

I don't know.

Maybe he didn't mean to k*ll
them but changed his mind, or...

..lost control and
Geraldine ran for it.

Hey, Paul. Paul.

Where do you think you're
going? Scratching an itch.

Well, scratch it later. We've
got a team briefing at two.

Big boss is coming down.

What do you want? Just a
minute of your time, John.

No, thanks.

Took me over an hour
to walk home last time.

That was Owen and Griffiths. You
were driving the f*cking car!

You going to let me in or what?

What time did the film start?

Er, 9:30.

Ten.

It started at ten.

That's late.

It was like a special showing.

You can check with the cinema.

What was the name of the film?

Er, The Exorcist.

Any good?

Yeah, not bad.

I mean, it's a bit slow
to begin with but, erm...

Er, sorry. What's
this in aid of?

Let's say it's...
in your interests

to provide an alibi for
your movements last night.

The two girls from LLandarcy?

Oh, f*ck off.

He's trying to help, John.

You think the man who k*lled them
is the same one who k*lled S-Sandra.

I think there's a chance, yeah.

Julie Stone.

She's an usherette
at the cinema.

I know her a bit. We were
in a typing pool together.

And she saw you last night?

Talked to us.

On the way in and out.

You're a lucky man, John.

Some of you may have heard that
we're being aided and abetted

by Scotland Yard.

Like all the best
stories, it's half-true.

The Yard did offer to send someone
down to show us how it's done,

but that offer was robustly,
if politely, declined.

Right.

Eyewitnesses,
eyewitnesses, eyewitnesses.

And did I say...

..eye...

..witnesses.

House-to-house is ongoing,

we're working through
the local taxi drivers,

and the hotline's
up and running.

Good. What else?

Fair few sightings of the girls
leaving the Top Rank on Kingsway.

Two more sightings on Fabian
Way, heading east to Port Talbot.

Any local sex pests
standing out from the crowd?

No, Gov.

I think we should consider
a Neath connection, sir.

Neath?

A John Morgan's in the frame for
the m*rder of a young girl up there.

Sandra Newton.

Someone mentioned her at
the start of the meeting,

and I warned against
getting side-tracked.

If you'd been here on
time, you'd know that.

Stymied again.

Sorry, sir.

Point is, Morgan's alibi
checks out for last night.

Point is, not our case, Bethell!

But if one bloke k*lled all three,
he could well come from Neath.

Key word there being "if".

This is a double m*rder, and there
is no room for idle speculation.

All our focus, and I mean all,

stays on Geraldine and Pauline.

Clear?

Yes, sir.

Taxi driver spotted two girls in a
light-coloured Austin 1100 or 1300.

Parked in a lay-by roughly
here between 1.45 and 2.15am.

Now that's a lead.

Ta.

Why wasn't Sandra linked to the
LLandarcy killings at the time?

Given the proximity?

The sexual nature of
Sandra's m*rder was dismissed

because there was
no evidence of r*pe.

But they found semen on her?

Explained away by Morgan
having sex with her

on the night she was m*rder*d.

There was no forensics to prove
more than one source of semen

and no vaginal injuries,

so they dismissed it as
an extramarital affair.

So cos this girl
was sexually active,

they took r*pe off
the table, basically.

Basically.

Which was problematic, because
Geraldine and Pauline's murders

were treated as sexually
motivated from day one.

A link should've been Yeah.

They were looking for a serial
k*ller, they just didn't know it.

Or they didn't want to know.

Depends how charitable
you want to be.

You said our budget will limit
how many men we can swab?

500 max, so we have
to be selective.

No point swabbing blokes not living
locally at the time of the murders.

Or too young to have committed them.
We have to get our man in focus.

What kind of bloke was he?

What age? Possible job?
Did he live in Neath?

That would fit with Sandra
being his first time he k*lled.

He took what he saw every day.

Then he moves further afield.

Don't sh*t where you eat.

So everyone on our list
has to be a contender.

I'll make a start
on the database.

Thanks, Geraint.

If we're tracking back
to when he got started,

how he got started, we
need to be asking...

If he r*ped those girls in
Neath before he became a k*ller?

A lot of evidence
suggests he did.

And there's a lot
says he didn't.

That's true.

But if he did...

..we have potential witnesses.

Victims, Paul, they're victims.

But at the least it
could yield an e-fit.

Question I'm asking is,
why are we doing this?

Honestly? Well, it's
to find the truth.

To get...

..not closure, but
the next best thing.

For us or the victims?

The victims.

And if we fail?

If all we do is
upend their lives

and rip off the scabs that
have helped them carry on,

where's your closure then?

Look, we're taking a risk.

All right, it's a big one.

Good to hear you
acknowledge that.

Look, Phil, right, we
have to look at the r*pes.

We have to.

And that includes
your friend Jane.

I'll order down the
evidence as a first step.

Anything actionable,
we move on to step two.

Fair?

Fair.

Thank you.

These sexual assaults,

they predated
Sandra's m*rder, then?

That's right, yeah.

Want a hand going through them?

Er, no, it's OK, thanks.

Suit yourself.

Do I know everything
there is to know here?

Far from it.

OK. Fair enough.

But if we're going to
be any kind of team...

Yeah, er...

Late '72, early '73,

there was a series of r*pes.

One of the victims, Jane,

she, er...

Well, she grew up on my street.

She was 16, but she didn't
come forward for five years.

That explains a few things.

Neath's a small place.

When Sandra was k*lled,

you'd think it'd be linked to the
r*pes straight away, but, erm...

But prevailing wisdom says a certain
John Dilwyn Morgan was to blame.

Yeah.

And now?

Now I'm keeping an open mind.

I'm sorry about your friend.

All right?

Just spoke to Jane.

She's expecting us
tomorrow morning.

Have you found something?

December '72,
hitchhiker Susan Ferry

was picked up outside
Neath by a man who tied her

with a ligature and r*ped her.

Said her attacker had bushy
hair and stank of tobacco.

That's exactly how Jane described
the man who attacked her.

Right, this
ligature's tied Mm-hm.

The same knot that
was used on Pauline.

We tried to link the murders
to the Neath r*pes before.

Jurisdictional c*ck-up.

Susan was picked up in Neath

but assaulted in a
park in Llangyfelach,

so Swansea got the case.

So it wasn't linked
to the Neath r*pes?

Not at the time, no.

Right, so maybe we should speak to
Susan Ferry before we speak to Jane?

I wish we could. She died
in a car crash in 1979.

This is Paul. This is Jane.

People say, "I remember my
wedding or my first day of school

"like it was yesterday."

Well, I really do remember that
night like it was yesterday.

He must've lain
in wait for me...

..in the trees.

The first thing I felt
was my hair being pulled.

And I mean hard, like he
was going to pull it out.

Then he was grabbing
me and punching me.

He said, "Don't scream
or I'll k*ll you.

"And don't struggle."

He got me down to the ground.

And he tied a rope
around my neck.

He was really quiet
when he did that,

like he was concentrating.

I could feel it just
digging into my throat.

Then he asked me
if I was a virgin.

I was.

I didn't tell him that, though.

I-I didn't say anything.
I was too scared.

Then he r*ped me.

I know it sounds weird,

but my strongest
memory is of his smell.

He stank of tobacco.
I mean, reeked of it.

For years, that smell
would set me off.

I'd walk into a smoky pub,
and I'd just start bawling.

It got so bad, my
mam gave up smoking.

We used to joke at least
some good had come of it.

Afterwards...

..afterwards, he stood up
while I lay there shivering.

I could see a shape.

He was touching himself...

He said, "Don't open
your eyes, girl.

"I'm going to have
this cigarette

"and think about whether
I'm going to k*ll you."

Was that the last
thing he said to you?

No, he told me to get dressed.

And that's when I knew he
wasn't going to k*ll me.

Jane, you said that you remember
it like it was yesterday.

Would you be prepared to
sit with a police artist

and tell them as much as you can

about the man that attacked you?

Jane, if there's anything
Of course I would.

We're pretty certain he's
being shielded by someone.

Could be a woman, could be a
relative or someone close to him.

That Sunday morning, his
shoes must have been muddy,

his clothing could have
been blood-stained.

This man is sick and
needs medical attention.

He could k*ll again..

..unless we can get
him to a doctor.

Let the police know about him...

..before he kills again.

We will look after
him, you have my word.

Hello, Colin.

Yeah, I'm sorry to call so late,

but we've had the
results back on the DNA,

and I thought you'd want to
hear as soon as possible.

You thought right.

Comparative mitochondrial testing
has shown a compelling link

between Sandra Newton and
Geraldine and Pauline.

All three were k*lled
by the same man.

You are dealing
with a serial k*ller

and all that comes with that.

Paul?

Yeah, I'm still here.