01x03 - One Day a Lemming Will Fly

[bunniefuu]

Bogart at the
end of Casablanca.

No, he doesn't die.

His motive's still pure.

Pure-ish!

Jimmy Cagney,

at the end of Angels
With Dirty Faces.

No.

Come on! Pat O'Brien
asks him to scream.

He says, "Don't do
this to me, Father.

Don't take away the
only thing I have left. "

He screams because
he's frightened.

No, no. He wants them
to think he's frightened,

right,

so they don't copy him
and end up on death row.

He's a Catholic. -So what?.

About to die. Heaven and
hell. It could be true.

OK. So, it's a
million-to-one against.

So, he does what
the priest asks him,

cos it's his only chance left.

Impure motive. He does
it to save his own skin.

God! My all-time favourite movie,
and you've just ruined it for me.

Aaaarghh!

It's Julie.

Are you in bed?.

Tim's there, isn't he?.

Has he left?.

He said he was going
to yours yesterday.

He never got there.

I'll phone you back.

He'll be all right.

Police.

I'll tell you, if Cagney's in
hell, he's watching British movies.

You dirty rat. Room With A
View yet again?. You dirty rat.

Where's Eddie G?.
Where's Bogart?.

Sleep in our bed
tonight, Fitz.

Please.

Evens, spades;, six
to four, hearts;, five

to one, clubs and
diamonds. Any more bets?.

Yeah. 600 to four, hearts.

Diamonds win.

No. A mistake.

I'm sorry.

Yeah. If it's any consolation,
you very nearly got away with it.

It was a mistake.

You owe me a grand.

Aaaarghh!

Oh, Jesus Christ!

He didn't take a coat.

He had no money.

His dad's less than a mile
away, and he never got there.

He hasn't been seen
since last night.

Tim! Tim!

Tim! -Tim!

Tim! -Tim!

Tim!

You didn't think ofringing
to see that he'd arrived?.

He often goes
round to his dad's.

Can you remember
what he was wearing?.

Trainers, black denims,
long-sleeved T-shirt.

It was the last thing
I said to him, actually.

I said, "You're not going out
in that. Put your coat on. "

Police?. -Yeah.

Any news?.

It's my husband.

I don't live here.
We're separated.

I'm DCl Bilborough.
This is DS Penhaligon.

A DCl?.

Oh, Jesus.

They think he's dead.

Sir! Sir!

Mrs Lang, what size
shoe did he take?.

Did he take?.

Does he take.

Seven.

Seven.

Slip of the tongue.

Thanks for being
so understanding!

Yeah?.

Right.

They've found a seven.

I'll tell them.

It means nothing,
Andy. It means nothing!

There could be a perfectly innocent
explanation for this, Mrs Lang.

Get Fitz. -We don't
know he's dead.

Missing two days. Didn't
take a coat or any money.

And we've found his shoe.
Do you think he's alive?.

It speaks volumes
about a person,

Panhandle, the way they
suck a sherbet lemon.

Me, I'm a cruncher.

I like to pop 'em in.
Crunch. An expl*si*n

of sherbet. Instant gratification.

Judith is a roller. She likes to roll
'em around her mouth for ages. Noisily.

You see, as a child,
she got more pleasure

out of making the other kids jealous

than she did out of
the sweetie itself.

I think you're probably
a sucker. Am I right?

I think you probably
like to make it last.

Yeah.

I bet you could suck
that sherbet lemon

wafer-thin before you got
even a hint of sherbet.

Yeah.

Thus indicating a
massive guilt complex.

Stay in the car, Jane.

I want to know why
they're separated, and

why they didn't report it for 24 hours.

Looks like the brother's hiding
something, too. My wife's in labour.

Looks like the kid's dead,
but don't tell 'em that, OK?.

Did you choose
Tim's trainers?.

He chose them.

Does he have any friends?.

Of course he's got friends!

Would you wear these?.

Wouldn't be seen dead in 'em.

Cos your mates would
give you stick?.

Yeah. Tim hasn't got any
mates. -Greg Stephens.

Greg Stephens is
a mental ret*rd.

Did you have a row
with Tim recently?.

Not recently, no.

Why didn't you phone
when he didn't arrive?.

I wasn't expecting him.

Look, we feel bad enough.
Don't make it worse, OK?.

I'm sorry.

Did you have a row
with Tim recently?.

Look, he hasn't run
away. He's got no money.

He left his books
- poetry. It's a load of crap.

If he was running away, he'd have took
them with him, so he hasn't run away.

Mmm.

Would you mind if I had
a look round his room?.

This is my room.

Yeah. Reminds me of my son.

The unmistakeable
whiff of smelly feet.

You know, at Christmas,
he doesn't hang

his sock up
- he just stands it up.

Finished?.

Yeah.

False alarm.

Jesus!

Thank you.

I'm sorry. Hey,
hey. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

You keep your mother out of your room
- yeah?.

Yeah.

But Tim lets her
in here?. -Yeah.

Phew!

When I was his age,
I was into Biggles!

Who's his English teacher?.

You think he's dead?.

In confidence?.

Yeah.

We fear the worst.

Saves me doing it to the kids.

The art of teaching today: just keeping
your hands off the little b*stards.

How's his mother handling
it?. -She fears the worst, too.

Do you know Tim well?.

Hardly know him at all.

Bit of a loner.

Bit effeminate.
Gets picked on.

Do you live alone?.

At the moment, yeah.

I'm thinking about
getting married.

To somebody on the staff?.

Yeah.

If you're watching this,
Tim... please phone.

Whatever it is, whatever you've done,
whatever you're running away from...

we can sort it out.

If somebody's holding Tim...

If anybody watching
this is holding Tim...

If anybody watching
this is holding Tim...

If anybody's...

holding Tim... I'm sorry.

If anybody watching this
has any information...

Police.

...or any information that may be
relevant, please contact your local...

It's really important you
tell me. -Keep her talking.

You wouldn't find this
place unless you knew it.

Come on, boys. -You squeeze
through a hedge. Couples use it.

Could you show us
it?. -No. I'm married.

The man I was with is married.

Yeah?.

She's ringing from home.

Police.

I'll tell them.

Are you sure?. -Yeah.

You've found him?.
- Shall we go in there?.

Mr Lang...

I'm afraid it's very bad news.

He's dead?.

I'm so sorry.

How?.

He was found hanging.

He didn't k*ll himself.

My son... It's early days yet.

...did not k*ll himself.

My son did not k*ll himself.

It's very early days yet.

I'm sorry. -It's all right.

It's not all right.
- It is. It's all right.

It's not all right. It's not all bloody

right. Will you stop
patronising me, right?.

Right. I thought you were
a gobshite in there, sir.

Withholding his name
is a criminal offence.

What's his name?.

He's got a wife
and three kids.

What's his name?.

Did you have sex?.

Mrs Perry, we've got
Forensic at the scene.

If they find anything,
they'll want to know

whether your boyfriend
left it or anyone else.

You understand how
important that is?.

Yes.

Did you have sex?. -No.

So, what's his name?.

I'm not going to
tell you his name.

Here she is, Little Red bleedin'
Riding Hood. -I'm handling it.

I'm going round to your old man right
now to tell him what you've been up to.

Let me handle it. -I'll find
out who this fancy man is,

and tell his missus.

He's got three kids.
- Everything. Every bloody thing.

Three kids?. His kids are
still alive, aren't they?.

We're talking about the
death of a child, OK?.

And you've got the cheek to
fart around, wasting our time!

I want her banged up. Bang her up right
now. Bang her up and throw away the key!

Wasting our time,
withholding evidence! Right?.

OK.

Francis Bates,


Did you get hold of Path?. -He'll be
an hour. He's at a fancy-dress party.

Francis Bates... -I heard. Go
and pick him up, the pair of you.

Then get Fitz. I
want him with us.

Boss...

No offence, right?.

Right.

It's getting so we
can't sh*t without Fitz.

From the bank.

God!

His grammar is atrocious.

Your economics is worse.

I know people who owe more than
this. -Robert Maxwell, maybe.

Well, we've got bigger
problems than that, haven't we?.

Such as?.

Do you know you use
up more calories eating

celery than the stuff
actually provides?.

Such as our marriage. Well, I
want to solve those problems, Fitz.

You don't. You like crisis.

Gives you an excuse
to drink and gamble.

Take away the crisis,
you take away the excuse.

Bullshit.

Bullshit as in "I can't
think of an answer right

now, so I'll just pretend
it's all beneath me"?.

Ten minutes.

Hello?. Ten minutes.

Right. -Right.

I'm going to have to
lay it on the line.

You don't have the right
to lay anything on the line.

And that puts you in a very
powerful position, doesn't it?.

I was wrong, so I've got
to suffer in silence. No.

I don't want half a relationship.
I want us to sleep together.

I want sex. I like
sex, for God's sake.

Yeah, we know that.

Naughty Fitz! You're
supposed to be mature.

House-trained. You
should be able to talk

this through like a
rational human being.

Well, I'm not a
rational human being.

I'm blazing. I'd like to
cut that b*stard's ba*ls off!

Glass ofwine, dear?.

sh*t.

I can give you ten minutes.

Look... I'm a
psychologist. I can help

This way.

How was Moscow?.

You've dragged me
down here for this?.

We think it's m*rder.
- You think it's m*rder?.

What's this?. And this?.

Breaks in lividity.

Caused by?. -Pressure.

He was left face
down after he died.

Bruises to the front and sides of the
throat. None whatsoever at the back.

He's been strangled, left
face down, and then strung up.

He's been dead about


And you're a DCl?. -I knew it was
m*rder. I wanted it confirming.

You've confirmed
it. Thank you.

You can get along
to your party now.

What are you going as?.

A man jogging. That's all.

Your girlfriend didn't
mention a jogger.

She was in the car. I was having
a pee. -Can you describe him?.



It was dark.

Nothing else?.

Tracksuit top with a hood.

I got back into the car, and
we started to mess around.

She took off. I
chased her for a bit.

Chased her?.

She likes that kind of
thing. What kind of thing?.

Rough.

We were just about to... We were
just about to start, when we saw it.

A 13-year-old boy. -I didn't know
who it was, or how old he was.

We just ran.

You left a 13-year-old
boy swinging from a tree.

She's married. I'm
married. I've got kids.

You could have phoned
anonymously. -We did.

She did. 12 hours later.

You left his parents clutching
at straws for 12 hours.

If it had been left up to you,
you wouldn't have phoned at all.

Your missus finding out
about your bit on the

side means more to you
than a child's death.

For Christ's sake, what
kind of a man are you?.

Hey, hey, hey... He
could have been alive.

Didn't that enter your head?. He could

have been alive. You
could have saved him!

We've got what we want. All
right?. -It's human nature.

If a child's in trouble, you don't
go away from him. You go to him!

Human bloody nature!

Otherwise, you're not a human.
You're some kind of bloody animal.

Boss... -We were there.

We were there,
waiting with them.

You tosspot! You prick!
You bloody animal!


and then they told.

You prick!

You...

We don't do a thing
until the full postmortem.

Then we say it's m*rder,
stick the family on telly...

I'd like to speak to them
first, please. -I'm talking.

Appeal to this jogger
to come forward.

Meanwhile, talk to
every kid in the school.

What do you think?.
- I think you should go home.

I'd like to look round
the house in the morning.

The family have
been through enough.

You're putting them on the telly

- is that some sort
of relaxation therapy?.

They like going on the telly.

It's a comfort for
them, isn't it?.

Seeing themselves on telly.

Can I speak to you a minute?.

Shut it.

Don't you ever do that
to me again. -Do what?.

Suggest that my private life's
interfering with my work.

I've seen you in tears,
sobbing your bloody eyes out,

and I didn't say it to you,
so how dare you say it to me?.

I am sorry.

I'll ring her in a minute, see
how she's doing. -All right.

We're not sleeping
- that's why...

She's a week overdue. Her blood
pressure's up and down every minute.

They wanted to take her in and
induce it, but she wanted it natural.

"Natural" means up every half-hour
for a piss, every hour for cramp,

every two hours waiting
for contractions.

I said to the
nurse, "Take me in.

She's only having a
baby - I'm having kittens. "

Have you got a minute, Andy?.

Well, what do you want, Andy?.

Andy!

What are you doing,
bursting into my classroom?.

Come here!

Get him off! Get him off! For
Christ's sake, get him off!

What do you think
you're doing?.

What good can that possibly
do?. Now, calm down.

All right?.

You knew what was going on. You
did nothing. You did nothing!

It's down to you, Cassidy. You and
every teacher in this sh*t-hole.

You knew what was going
on. You did nothing.

He trusted you. He told you
everything. You never lifted a finger.

You want the truth?.

You'll despise the truth.

You would have preferred
it to have been suicide?.

He were always a victim.

m*rder
- he's a victim to the end.

Suicide - well, that's some
sort of choice he's made.

Some sort of
courage he's shown.

I didn't hope. I
didn't pray. I knew.

I knew it wouldn't be suicide.

Because suicide's a b*mb
under the kitchen table,

every member of the
family cut to pieces.

He wouldn't do that to you.

He loved me.

Have you got a
son?. -Yeah. 18.



You'll know, then.

Your son's born.

One day you'll watch him
play football for t'school...

...take him to Old Trafford...

...buy him his first pint.

Not Andy.

Anything I wanted,
he did the opposite.

But that were OK,
cos Tim were born.

I'd do it all wi' Tim.

Tim turned out to be a girl.

Guilt.

They told me it was m*rder.

I felt relieved.

The blame lay somewhere else.

I didn't think about
Tim, what he went through.

I do now, but...

then, when they told me...

...the moment they told me...

...I didn't think about...

his pain and his fear.

I just felt relief.

Guilt?.

I wanted a crisis.

We rowed over Tim.
We separated over Tim.

Just give me a nice
little crisis, I thought...

...and I'll go back and sort
everything out, and everything'll be OK.

Together again.

Well, I've got my crisis.

There's always guilt.

I've spoken to dozens of parents
who've lost their children.

They've all been blameless.
They've all felt guilt.

"If only we'd said this.
If only we'd done that. "

If only you'd made Tim wear his
coat, and delayed him by two minutes,

by two seconds...

he would never have been
at that place at that time.

He would never
have met his k*ller.

May I read you something?.

It's a father talking.

"She was young, vulnerable.

Pictures used to flash before my eyes
- my daughter lying dead in a ditch.

I told myself all
fathers thought that way.

All fathers saw
these pictures.

But then it happened. It's
as if I willed it to happen.

I saw those pictures in my
mind, and I willed it to happen.

You know just what
he means, don't you?.

Well, guilt soon goes.

Grief remains. But
grief is your friend.

It lets you mourn,
remember, cry.

If you want my autograph, you
can form a line. All right?.

This is the brother of the
victim?. -Yeah, right. Thanks.

What's your name,
son?. -Tom Rope.

And your address?. -145
Huntley Road, Hulme.

Come here!

Get him off me! -I
want a word with him.

I just want a word
with the little b*stard!

Put him in a
cell! Number three.

sh*t-head!

Yeah?.

I'm gonna put you in a cell with
Andy. Right?. Just the two of you!

I didn't mean it,
right?. I was lying.

You picked on Tim for years. Now you
can show his big brother how it's done.

I'm scared of him,
OK?. -All right?.

Shut up. Shut up!

You're a big
bully, aren't you?.

Yeah.

And a coward.

Yeah.

"I give this heavy
weight from off my head...

...and this unwieldy
sceptre from my hand...

...the pride of kingly
sway from out my heart.

With mine own tears,
I wash away my balm.

With mine own hands
I give away my crown...

...with mine own tongue... "

No!

In the car.

Why did you go
for those boys?.

Look, I've already
told him why. -Tell me.

They used to pick on Tim.

Tim asked for your
help, didn't he, Andy?.

But you didn't give him any.
Now he's dead, you feel guilty.

Look, it was
happening in school.

His teachers there
- you know what I mean?

They should have
done something.

And they didn't?. -No.

You're lying. -Look,
Cassidy had a word.

Gobshites like that
don't understand a word.

Why didn't you do something?.

I've told you
- it was happening in school!

The teachers should...

Bzzz. Lie.

Look, it's their fault. They
should sort it out. -Bzzz. Lie.

It's not my
responsibility. -Bzzz. Lie.

Piss off! Excuse me.

I've just left your mother.

Ifyou'd helped Tim, you might
have saved her some of that pain.

Don't tell me you don't feel guilty
about her broken heart and grief.

Look, I've got mates.
They took the piss out

of Tim all the time.
He was a little f*gg*t.

Are you saying I should have stood
up for Tim against my own mates?.

Yes. -Well, that's
bollocks! All right?.

Yeah?.

Tell me everything you
know about Mr Cassidy.

This morning, with
Mr and Mrs Lang...

Yeah?.

I thought you were brilliant.

You should hear
my pillow talk.

Are you OK?.

No, I'm afraid of heights.

That's a lie. Nobody's
afraid of heights.

They're really afraid of
themselves, what they might do.

If I do survive this, will
you let me take you out

and get you pissed, and make a
pathetic attempt to seduce you?.

Stay away from me. -I will.

If you come near
me, I'll jump.

I'd much sooner jump in my own
time, so please stay away from me.

OK.


enough, you know.

Why so high?.

Too much time to think.

You might change your
mind halfway down.

Lemmings.

We laugh at lemmings for
throwing themselves off cliffs,

but I have a suspicion that the
lemmings will have the last laugh...

because one day...

What's your first
name, by the way?.

Nigel. -Nigel! God,
I'd be suicidal.

One day, Nigel, a
lemming will fly.

Tim Lang didn't k*ll
himself. He was m*rder*d.

Pigeons did it, you know,
millions ofyears ago.

Threw themselves off cliffs.

Millions of pigeons over
thousands and thousands of years.

Thudding, dead, to the ground.

And then, one day, a pigeon flapped, and
it didn't hit the ground quite so hard.

And then, the
day after that...

...one of them flew...

...because it followed
its instincts, Nigel.

Man suppressed that instinct, which
is why man will never fly, Nigel.

Come on. Let's do it. Come
on. Let's follow our instincts.

Let's fly. I'm gonna do it. Come on
- you do it. Come with me.

Top of the world, Ma!

For Christ's sake!
For Christ's sake!

You asked about his mother.
- "How's his mother handling it?."

Yes.

His mother, not his parents.

Well, his parents
have split up.

How did you know
that?. -I taught him.

Yeah, well, you've
taught hundreds of kids.

Did you know all their
family backgrounds that well?.

No.

So, you knew Tim
particularly well?. -Yeah.

Yeah. So, why did
you lie to me?.

Huh?. I found a book of
Wilfred Owen in Tim's room.

Did you give that to him?.

Erm... I might have
done. -Oh, come on!

You give a book of poetry
to a 13-year-old boy?

That's intimate. You
would remember that.

Look...

I did a stupid thing. I'm sorry.
I'm a bit depressed and a bit drunk.

If you're going to
charge me, then charge me,

but I won't answer more
questions about Tim.

What shall we
charge you with?.

Well, I don't know. Anything. Trespass.
Wasting police time. I don't know.

m*rder?.

You like to keep fit. -Yeah.

Burn off that anger. Stops
you taking it out on the kids.

I was joking.

Do you jog?. -Yes.

Were you jogging
three nights ago?.

Erm...

Were you jogging
three nights ago?.

No.

Where were you?. -At home.

Alone?.

My girlfriend...
she was with me.

Do you believe him?. -No.

She thinks you k*lled Tim.

I didn't.
- Mm-hm.

I asked you if you lived
alone. Do you remember that?.

Yes. "But I'm thinking
of getting married. "

It's true. I am thinking
of getting married.

Yeah, but why
articulate it?. Huh?.

A simple yes or no
would have been enough,

unless you think something's
implied by living alone.

Such as?.

You said, "I was at
home with my girlfriend",

not "I was at home with
Jo or Leslie or Sammy. "

You said, "I was at
home with my girlfriend. "

What is your girlfriend's
name, by the way?.

Leslie. -Leslie!
How did I guess?.

I've no idea.

You wouldn't say, "I was at
home with Leslie", because...

Leslie could be a man,
and that's the very

last thing you'd want
anyone to think. Right?.

You think I'm g*y. -No.
No, you think you're g*y.

Ah! Super-sleuth.

Do you know, this man can fill in
a Sun crossword in under three days.

I'd like you to accompany me to
the station. -We'll bring him in.

The boss said... -No.
We'll bring him in.

You're gonna
wish you'd jumped.

I think that's understandable

- wanting to know what
the police are doing.

I can understand how you're all

feeling, but I'd like
you all to go home.

We pay your wages. Right?. We got kids
- they play in the woods.

We want to know what
the bloody hell you're

doing about it! A bit of
information. Understand?.

Do that once more, and I'll
have you arrested. -Oh, yeah?.

The bloody press know more
than me! My son's been k*lled.

I'm getting information off the press
- that's not right.

Just let me
through, all right?.

All right, all right! We've
picked up a shirt-lifter.

Who is he?. -We're
bringing him in.

Oh, great. Where
does he live?.

Jesus Christ!

Die! Die!

Escort three to control.
Request urgent assistance.

Repeat: urgent
assistance! We're outside

the station, surrounded
by a hostile crowd.

Die! Die!

Oh, Christ! -Die! Die!

Oh, for Christ's sake!
- Repeat: urgent assistance!

Are you OK?.

How was that allowed to happen?. A
crowd like that outside our own door!

You told them he's g*y.

g*y?. A miserable
sod like that?.

Yeah. -I told them
he was a shirt-lifter.

What's going on?.

I was just about to come
in and tell you, sir.

There's a hostile crowd
outside the station.

Get onto Brighton Road nick.
A bit of backup. Discreet.

That's my middle name.
- I'll speak to three of them.

In there, in my own time.
Pick the biggest mouths.

Right. -Why wasn't I
told about this earlier?.

Will you listen
to me?. -I am!

Stay within the law, or
you'll end up in there.

Did Cassidy do it?.

We're conducting our
enquiries with vigour...

Did Cassidy do it?.
- Is that clear?.

Yes! I want to know.

Will you listen to me?. We're
conducting our enquiries...

Are you charging him?.
- We're optimistic...

Are you gonna charge him?.
- I'm not gonna say any more.

I'm gonna take you
upstairs and bang you up...

Your girlfriend's coming down.

She likes trap two, does she?.

Don't turn your back.

He says he was with you.

Yeah, he was.
- You've remembered?.

Yes. -He says you
went to the theatre.

You're lying. He
hates the theatre.

He says he cooked you a meal.

Yes, he did. -What was it?.

I can't remember.
- What was it?.

Chicken. -Just chicken?.

And vegetables.
Broccoli, potatoes, peas.

Wine?. -Yeah.

What kind?. -Dry white.

What then?. -Erm...
we listened to music.

Classical?. -No, it was jazz.

Sex?.

No, thanks. -Did
you have sex?.

Yes. -What was it like?.

None of your business.

What would you say if I
told you he was q*eer?.

I'd say that you were the
one with the moustache.

Do we have to check
all this out, Leslie?.

No, you don't. It's the truth.

You're lying.

That's OK.

But if we have to
prove you're lying, we

will come down on you
like a ton of bricks.

You've been his alibi for
years, haven't you, Leslie?.

No.

He's g*y, but he
won't come out.

That's understandable. He's a
teacher. Clause 28 and all that.

He needs a woman, a
member of staff, to

prove to the whole
school that he's straight.

He talks marriage.
He lets it known that

he's talking marriage,
but it is just talk.

He never names the day.

How long have you known him?.

Three years.

Three years, and all that
time, not one suspicion?.

He tried to k*ll himself.

I know what you're thinking
- you'll have to leave the school.

"Poor old Leslie,
hanging on to Cassidy like

grim death, and all
the time... blah blah. "

Some of them will laugh at you. That's
OK. But some of them will pity you.

And if you lie to us now,
they will despise you.

Were you with him
three nights ago?.

No.

Nigel!

What have they told you?.

Well, it's a pack of
lies! -I'm... I'm sorry.

For Christ's sake,
it's a pack of lies!

They told her you're g*y.

I'm not.

Mmm. She believed them.

I think if you told my wife I
was g*y, she wouldn't believe you.

There has to be suspicion.

Shall I prove it to
you?. Somewhere private?.

What were you doing
three nights ago?.

I stayed in. -With Leslie?.

Yeah. -That's not
what she told us.

I marked books, I jogged,
I marked some more books.

The fancy man.

Bates.

What was he wearing?.

You jogged.
Through the woods?.

On the road.

What was he wearing?. Bob!

You live near the woods, but
you prefer to jog on the road?.

Go in there, and ask her to ask him
what he was wearing when he was running.

There's a good track through
those woods, isn't there?.

So you have used
it in the past?.

A long time ago.

You get a lot of
kids in the woods.

You're a teacher, fair game. They
shout things out. It can wind you up.

You're jogging to try and relax.
That's why I don't use the woods, OK?.

OK.

Now, why did you try
to k*ll yourself?.

I'd had a few drinks,
I was just depressed.

Yeah. What about?.

The Exchange Rate Mechanism.

What were you wearing that
night, when you were jogging?.

Tracksuit, trainers. -Would you
mind if we went to get them?.

I would. Yeah, I would.

OK.

Did you have that on?.

Yeah. -Could I borrow
it for an hour or two?.

Thanks.

Would you like a cup of tea?.

Can I come in?.

The wife's in.

It's about your statement.

You were in the woods with your
girlfriend, and you saw a man jogging?.

Yeah.

Who is it?.

Christian Aid.

Was he going fast or slow?.

Quite fast.

Well, there you are, you
see. -Look, won't this keep?.

No. Jogging.
People think slow.

But he was going fast?.

Yeah. -Running would
be more accurate?.

Running from the scene, yeah.

They just want it accurate.

We want you for an ID parade. You
can change your statement then.

What do I tell my wife?.
- You'll think of something.

I taught the boy!

When you teach kids,
you get close to them.

I've had nits off bloody
kids, never mind bits of fibre!

The thing is, he wore a
shirt and tie at school.

He put that T-shirt on
at 5pm. So between 5pm

and the time of his
death, you touched him.

Another thing about T-shirts.

I have a teenage son, so
I know about these things.

You do not put on your best
T- shirt to go and see your dad.

You save it for copping off.

You wear it to impress
somebody you fancy.

He fancied you, didn't he?.

You were his teacher, and
very properly, you resisted.

But that night, he came to you,
didn't he, in that T-shirt?.

A blond, beautiful
teenage boy.

Those arms, those
eyes, that smile.

I don't blame
you for weakening.

Nobody does.

I marked books.

I jogged.

And then I marked
some more books.

That's all.

Pick him. Pick him, pick him.

This man.

Yes, brilliant!

This man's here because he
taught the boy, isn't he?.

I know him. He
teaches my son an' all.

It is not this man.

It is definitely not this man.

How do you know?. -Sorry?.

That he's not the
jogger Bates saw.

Bates told us he wasn't.

He was lying. Chief witness goes up to

chief suspect. Definitely
not him. Bollocks.

He wants to keep
himself out of court.

Doesn't want some smart-arse barrister
asking what he was doing in the woods.

It's David Bilborough.
I've been ringing my wife.

Could you just see if
the car's there?. Thanks.

Keep away from Fitz. You're
starting to sound like him.

What do you mean by that?.
- You know what I mean.

I don't. I don't know what you mean,
and I'd like you to explain, so...

Hey, hey, hey. -It's nothing
to do with you, OK?. Nothing.

I'd hate to come home
to you in a flat week.

Thanks, yeah.

She's in the garden.

Would you please
explain, sir?.

Do you think he's guilty?.

Yeah.

Do you?. You're gut
instinct. Is he guilty?.

Yeah.

I know he's guilty. Our job is to get
as much evidence as we can against him.

That's our job. No bloody
philosophy, thanks very much.

Whatever's going on between you and Fitz
is affecting the way you do your work.

We expect a result,
we get sweet FA, and

you talk about progress.
That's Fitz-speak.

I get enough of him. I don't
want it from a member of my team.

Don't give me any crap about
keeping my private life separate,

because you obviously can't.

Hello, me again. What's
she doing in the garden?.

I'm bothering you,
I know. Could you pop

across, and tell her
to go in and relax?.

Tell her I said she's got
to go in and relax. Thanks.

Pulling bleeding weeds.

I can't keep my
private life separate?.

I haven't been fussing over
my wife for the last half hour.

I think that's a
bit below the belt.

She's been pregnant before.

They lost it.

I've spoken to some
of the ringleaders, and

have backup standing
by. It's under control.

Can you charge Cassidy?.

Not yet, no.

You know what'll happen if you
let him go?. -I can handle it.

How's the wife?.

No change.

You should be with her, David.

We can hold the
fort for a few days.

Don't do this to me.

He's guilty. It's
only a matter of time

before he coughs. Please
don't do this to me.

Please.

OK.

You're letting him go?. -We
can't hold him without evidence.

You must have had evidence
to pull the b*stard in!

The man is innocent.
I'm sure we're going

to have more questions,
but he's free to go.

You said you had enough!
- You said you were optimistic!

You two aren't! You're not leaving
till Mr Cassidy is safely away.

You're holding us, and
letting that b*stard go!

I have reason to believe a crime
will be committed if I let you go.

Therefore you're staying
in the station. All right?.

I don't believe this.

OK.

The, er, meter ran out.
I had no pound coins.

Is this your
handwriting, Mr Cassidy?.

Yes.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. "

This is Timothy Lang's book.

I know. So?.

Do you remember those Hamlet
cigar ads?. I had a great one.

The guy tried to
gas himself, right?.

Singularly unsuccessful
because it's natural gas.

Right?. So he decides to console
himself by lighting a Hamlet cigar.

He lights it up. Boom!
The whole house goes up.

As the dust settles, a camera goes
in, finds the packet, and it says,

"Smoking can seriously
damage your health".

Oi, Cassidy, you
pervert! -b*stard!

I'll get you, you b*stard!

I'm arresting you on
suspicion of causing

criminal damage and endangering life.

You do not have to say anything,
but anything you do say...

Tell him he's dead!

Cassidy, you're dead, mate!

Put them in the van. -Just
wait till I get hold...

What are you going
to do about that?.

I suggest you spend the night in
a hotel with DS Beck and Fitz, OK?.

Yeah, OK. -We're over here.

Why Beck?.

Sir!

Cos Beck'll keep his mind
on the job. You won't.

As soon as this
is sorted, I'm off.

Yeah?. Where?.

Anywhere. Just so
long as there's not the

faintest chance of
bumping into a copper.

Ah, Moss Side.

I've got two weeks
due. I'm taking it.

With Peter?. -Probably.

I'll miss you.

Can I play the dirty old
man for just one minute?.

You've made a career out of
it. What's another minute?.

Young women are
wasted on young men.

You'll be off on holiday
with Peter, right,

and you'll want him to rub oil on your
back, and he'll be reading or something.

He'll do it, but he
won't want to. Now me, I

would rub oil on your
back until Boots ran dry.

Do you fancy a quick one?.

Can't. -Why not?.

Minute's up.

That's what you'd like,
though, isn't it, Fitz?.

Me on the side, your wife
and your kids to go home to.

Yes.

I think most men would. In fact, if
any man says otherwise, he's a liar.

Answer this. Not a joke, not a
put-down. A straight answer, yeah?.

Yeah.

Will you come away with me?.

What, instead of Peter?.

Yeah.

I know what you're thinking.
- Don't tell me what I'm thinking.

"I've paid the penance. I
might as well commit the sin. "

No analysis, please.

Just a straight answer.

Drop Fitz at the hotel,
and back to the station.

Right.

Is he paralysed?.

The answer is yes.

Yes to what?.

I've asked him to come away, and
roger me rigid for a fortnight, sir.

Are you telling me to
mind my own business?.

Yes, I am, sir.

The station.

This is posh. Bloke
in there with a silver

cane taps your d*ck twice
when you've finished.

Suit you, that job.

Drink?.

No, I'll get my own.

Sauce for Suzy,
or Night of Lust?.

Night of Lust.
Suzy's a l*sbian.

Shall I tell you why I
can't stand lesbians?.

Please.

q*eers are OK. As long as I don't
turn my back on you, you're OK.

Two q*eers doing it, that's
two women going spare.

But two lesbians doing it,
that's two men going short.

You can tell he reads
The Guardian, can't you?.

We don't have the
suspect with us!

Please all disperse! Just go
home. -Who's in there, then?.

Please all go home. We
don't have him with us.

You're not nicking me dad!

These two... These two
men have broken the law.

I can understand why they've broken
it, but to understand is not to excuse.

For the last time,
let me through!

Look, it's my brother m*rder*d,
and you're nicking my dad!

They've broken the law!

And you will all be under arrest...
- You're not listening, are you, w*nk*r!

Get the backup!

Mrs Lang, would you
step aside, please?.

You're breaking my arm!

I want the mob dispersed.
I don't care how you do it.

Disperse the b*stards.

I've done nothing,
you soft sod!

You obstructed a police
officer, sunshine!

In there! Behave!

You've broken my son's arm, you b*stard!
I want a lawyer down here, and a doctor!

It's under control.
I've sent backup in.

It got a bit out of hand,
but it's under control.

Sorted.

You've brought those
men to this nick?.

My officers made the
arrest. Taking them

elsewhere would be bowing
to that lot out there.

You're needed.

Come on, lads. Come on.

Didn't even consider
it, did you?.

I did, sir. -The
effect it would have.

I did, sir. They
were obstructing.

You're not charging
him?. -Yeah.

Go up to the canteen.

I've sent backup in, sir.

You go up to the canteen,
have a cup of tea. Stay there.

Go and have a cup of tea!

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry. " What are you sorry about?.

You're sorry because...?.
- I'm sorry he's dead.

You're sorry because
you k*lled him.

I'm sorry he's dead.

You're lying! You're sorry
because you k*lled him.

I didn't k*ll him.

Explain the fibres
on your watch.

I've no need to
explain anything.

They prove you touched him sometime

between 5 o'clock and
the time of his death.

You touched him.

Did more than touch him.

Oh, for a common or garden
r*pist! Them I can understand.

Sick b*stards like you,
shoving bits of metal into kids!

h*m*. -What kind
of hobby is that, huh?.

What possible pleasure
can you get out of that?.

h*m*
- a morbid fear of...

I know what Fitzophobia is
- a morbid fear

of men who talk through
their arse! Stay out of this.

You were about 14 when
you came over here, right?.

This is the suspect.

New boy in school. Difficult
age to make friends.

The girls would talk to you. A new face
- girls like that.

But the boys...

We've got clout.

When we bang you up, you're going to be

begging for Section


I don't want protection.

The boys ignored
you, didn't they?.

You think the screws will give
you protection?. Are they shite!

I don't want it.

One boy in particular.

You wanted to be near
him, you wanted to

hold him, and touch
him. It bothered you.

Those screws have
kids of their own.

They'll leave your cell door
open, they'll turn their back.

Then the lads will be in, and
they won't be shaking your hand.

You know what I'm saying?.
- You thought you were g*y.

Will you shut it!

You loved that boy.

You are talking crap.

It kept you awake at night.

"Am I q*eer?. Am I q*eer?."

"The girls talk to me.
They must see it in me.

The boys ignore me.

I'll prove I'm not q*eer. "

How do you prove you're not
q*eer?. You pick a fight.

Who do you fight?.

Whose face do you smash to
a pulp?. The boy you loved.

Bollocks!

He's done this before.

He looks in
there, and in there

for something sick,
something twisted.

And because he's felt it, because
he's thought it, he thinks we all have.

Well, we haven't.

Some of us are normal!

Are you giving her one?.

Who?.

Penhaligon.

Where was I before I was
so rudely interrupted?.

Section 43. If we say yeah, you
get it. If we say no, you don't.

And if you don't, you end up in
court with your d*ck in a jar.

Do you understand
what I'm saying?.

Yes.

Yeah?.

Penhaligon, boss.
What are you doing?.

What do you think I'm doing?.

Your wife's gone into labour.

Is the crowd dispersing?.

Just about.

Drive me to the hospital, then get
onto Beck. Cassidy's got to cough.

Right.

Something I ate.

It's your arrogance, Fitz.

A nice young bit of stuff like
that, and you are hanging around her.

I wouldn't even dream of it.

Yeah, well, I've got my
hair in the right place.

Read it, please.

I can't.

I've had this for years.
I'm not shaving it off

just cos a bunch of
q*eers start growing them.

It's beneath me. I'm not that insecure.
Do you understand what I'm saying?.

Keep your hair on.

Read it, please.

No.

Because that's what
made you k*ll him.

"First ice.

Tears on the classroom floor.

I start to grieve.

He opens the classroom door.

He tells me to leave.

First ice isn't nice. "

Why "First ice"?.

It's a...

...poem about a...

...girl in a
telephone box I...

She's been hurt. I read
it to the kids, and...

get them to write about
a time they were hurt.

"He opens the classroom
door, and tells me to leave. "

That's you.

It is, isn't it?.



Beautiful.

More a girl than a boy.

You want to hold him,
touch him, explore.

He's crying.

"It's all right, Timothy.
It's OK, it's OK."

He's screaming.

You've gone too far.

He'll tell his mother. His
mother'll tell the police.

The police'll come
round to the school.

One hand's enough.

Such a delicate throat.

The eyes won't close. You squeeze and
you squeeze, but the eyes won't close.

You turn him over, face down
in the mud. You hold him.

You run. Where?. Home.

You pace the floor. "I've
strangled him. I strangled him. "

A rope!

You go back. He's
still there, cold.

You pick him up.

There's air in the lungs. It gets
squeezed out. Sounds like a groan.

For one terrible second,
you think he's still alive.

I marked books.

I jogged.

People must have
seen me jogging.

And then I came home and
marked some more books.

Good girl. Oh, it's got
a lovely mop of hair.

That's it. Right, come
on. Pant now, love.

Try and relax. Relax.

Relax! Relax! Relax!

Relax now. Pant
now. Pant, come on.

Will you sod off!

Confess.

Plead guilty. It will
be over in a flash.

Deny it, there'll be a trial.

Week upon week,
detail upon detail.

Your mother squirming
and cringing.

You've done this.

My flat, my job,
my mother, Leslie.

All because you
decided I was g*y.

What gives you the right?.

What makes you so bloody arrogant you

can decide that after
five lousy minutes?.

Because I'm right.

You're wrong.

Are you married?. -Yeah.

When was the last time you gave
your wife a good seeing-to?.

When was the last time?.

That's my business.

You've poked your nose
into mine for long enough.

I haven't k*lled somebody.
You have. -I haven't.

Bring her down here. She's
probably gasping for it.

I'll slip her one. You can
ask her what she thinks.

All those times you made love to
Leslie, she faked it every single time.

Why else would she believe
you were g*y?. Huh?.

She felt the need to fake it.

She knew you
needed reassurance.

She knew that deep down,
something was wrong.

I marked books, I jogged...

And then you
marked more books.

Did you ever tell Tim off?.

Of course I told Tim off.

More than the other
children?. -No.

He was special. You'd have to hide that.
You'd tell him off more than the others.

No.

You were standing. He was
sitting down, head bowed.

"Look at me when I'm talking
to you, boy! Look at me!

Look at me!"

Then he'd look up.

Those blue eyes, those
long blond lashes.

More a girl than a boy.

And his eyes were saying,
"Please, stop this.

Please, stop this!
Please stop this!"

How did that make
you feel, Nigel?.

Grey.

What?.

They were more grey than blue.

"See me, Tim. See me, Tim. "
And what, he'd go to your desk?.

I'd go to his. Well, not
just his, every pupil's.

Ah. So, you'd squat?.

You'd be really close.
Touching. Going through his work.

You'd exchange glances.

Be inches away. Inches
away from those eyes, huh?.

That was it, the moment
you'd been waiting for,

the moment that would
get you through the day.

He really was that special
to you, wasn't he, Nigel?.

He disgusted me.

And what were they saying, those
eyes, the last time you saw them?.

"Please, stop this! Please,
stop this! Please stop this!"

You want to atone.

Yes.

That's why you tried
to k*ll yourself.

A life for a life.

Yes.

I don't want that much,
Nigel. Just confess.

I know you want to confess.

You've k*lled a child, Nigel.
That's a terrible, terrible burden.

You want to share it.

I'm here, Nigel. I'm
willing to share your burden.

You're willing to
share my burden?.

Yes.

I won't let you
forget you said that.

I won't forget it.

I k*lled Timothy Lang.

Come on, darling. You're the most

beautiful woman that's
ever lived. Come on.

Argh!

Come on, darling.

Good girl, good girl.

It's a boy.

Hi.

I was thinking of
going away for a while.

On your own?.

Yeah.

You look terrible.
- Well, I haven't slept.

Then sleep.

How often have you wished
me dead?. -I've lost count.

So you could sleep with other
men with a clear conscience.

I've put it to
dozens of couples.

I don't give a damn how many people
you've put it to. You're wrong.

I've had opportunities,
Fitz. More than most.

Men see me. They see
you sitting next to me.

Overweight, pissed, arguing
with someone at the next table,

totally ignoring me until you've
smashed him into an intellectual pulp.

They assume I'm
available. -Yeah, I know.

I enjoy it. -Yes,
I've seen you.

All that effort to impress is wasted,

because they haven't
got a tenth of that,

or a twentieth of that.

I've loved you for 25 years, and
I have never wanted anyone else.

Just a minute! I asked
you all to wait outside.

Listen, the press conference will start
in half an hour. Now, please, outside.

He's coming, he's coming!

Say nothing. Say nothing.

Yeah?.

I was getting sick
of the jokes, right?.

So, I got rid of it.

I was going to keep it, just to
prove I've got nothing to prove.

But I haven't got to
prove I've got nothing

to prove, so I got rid of it, right?.

Could you give us
that again, Jimmy?.

Hey, hey, calm down.

Calm down!

Calm down.

I'm off.

Stay for one, stay for one.

Tell Peter if you
want a tan, he's got to

let you out of the
bedroom now and again.

And don't speak
with your mouth full.

Coffee?.

What do you want?.
- I've come to help you.

I lost my job, my
flat's been destroyed,

Leslie's walked out, and my
mother's being persecuted.

Apart from decapitation,
what else can you do for me?.

You were living a lie.

You're a happily
married man, are you?.

Hm?.

Never thought of adultery, or
just walking away from it all?.

You don't. You go
on living your lie.

You're a hypocrite.

There are worse things, Nigel.

To hell with the
consequences, with who gets

hurt, just so long as
you can expose lies.

Not your own, of course.

Other people's.

That's got nothing
to do with truth.

Just utter selfishness,
you bloody hypocrite.

You're the m*rder*r. Get
out of the bloody pulpit.

You said you were willing to share
my burden. Do you remember that?.

Yes.

I didn't k*ll Tim.

Don't believe you.

I'm not g*y.

I fancied him
because he was a girl.

Nigel, I don't mind you
telling me lies, but come on!

He knew.

He'd talk to me at school.

In the staffroom,
they'd laugh.

"Takes one to know
one", they'd say.

I'd laugh too.

But then he came round to
my flat. He needed to talk.

He frightened me.

In the staffroom,
they'd laugh.

It brought things out in me.

I chased him away.
He died that night.

Are you saying you
didn't k*ll him?.

I as good as k*lled him.

All you saw was guilt.

The same guilt that Andy
felt, that his parents

must have felt, or
anyone who ever knew him.

That's all.

No more.

Tell me you didn't do it!

I did not k*ll Timothy Lang.

What's wrong, Fitz?.

An innocent man's confessed?.
The k*ller's still out there?.

No.

You were wrong.

That's what's bothering
you, isn't it?.

You arrogant b*stard!

If you want to punish
yourself, I'll fix something

up for you, you selfish,
twisted little prick!

But there's a k*ller out there!
He's going to strike again.

Retract your confession.
- I want him to k*ll again.

Retract your
confession right now.

I want him to k*ll again.

You said you'd
share my burden.

That's my burden.

I'm responsible for
the death of a child.

If he kills again, you'll
know what it's like.

You'll be able to share it.

You did promise. Am I right?.

You did promise.

Oh, my God!

Oi! Oi!

Fitz?.

He didn't do it.

How do you know?. -I've just
spoken to him. He told me.

And you believe him?. -Yeah.

Is he going to
retract his statement?.

No.

Then what's the problem?.
- He didn't do it!

We got a result.
It's up to CPS now.

Hey, sarge!

Sarge?.

Will you behave yourselves, the
pair of you?. Will you just grow up!

Look, I don't give a sh*t about
the result. He didn't do it.

It's the truth that counts.
- I've got a press conference.

I got the statement
off that man!

That means I'm resp...
- DS Beck got the statement.

What?. -DS Beck
got the statement.

After shrewd and persistent questioning,
the witness made his statement.

That man couldn't get Edward
the Confessor to cough.

I got the statement...
- Why don't you piss off?.

Jimmy.

Why don't you just
piss off?. -Jimmy!

I've had to put up with you all night,
and the novelty is wearing a bit thin!

Why don't you just
button your baldy lip!

Tell them I'm coming.

If you don't stop this now,
we're finished. I'm out of here.

Have you finished?.

It's the truth that matters,
not the result. The truth!

Here endeth the lesson, yeah?.

Yeah.

If I let him go, what
have we got left?. Nothing.

What do you want me to do?.

He didn't do it!

You told me he did.

I pursued one sole line of enquiry, and

you want me to tell
the boss I was wrong?.

I'd be back pounding
the bloody beat.

You want me to tell
that lot I was wrong?.

They'd lynch me. You want me
to tell his mother I was wrong?.

I'm charging him.

He's innocent! Can you live
with that, because I can't?.

Right. Everyone ready, yeah?.

A man was arrested
this morning in

connection with the
m*rder of Timothy Lang.

That man has since been charged, and
will appear in court in the morning.

That's all. Thank you.

What evidence do you have
for arresting this man?.

Boss? -IShut it, Jimmy.

Any more bodies?. He
can'tjust leave like that!

You're hopeless. It's
like a habit. -So what?.

Keep your nose
out. -I'm serious.

It's either find a job,
or go back to college.

You've got till Christmas.

Under certain terms

- you'll get up when
the rest of us get up,

not spend the whole
morning lying in bed.

I'm sorry. There's nobody
here to take your call.

If you'd like to leave
a message for Fitz,

Judith, Mark or Kate,
please speak after the tone.

Message for Fitz
from DS Penhaligon.

I think you've forgotten
our appointment, Fitz.

College is just crap.

You're beginning to sound more
like your father every day, Mark.

Look, it's a well-known
fact - if you come

from a posh house,
you do well at school.

The posher the house,
the more dosh your old

man's got, the better
you should do, right?.

Well-known fact,
yeah?. That proves it,

then
- Prince Charles is thick as pigshit.

Poshest house in the country, loads
of dosh, and he gets CSE in metalwork!

And as for his brothers! Thick
as pigshit, the lot of them.

What do you call a
one-eyed dinosaur?.

♪ I wanna tell you
the natural facts

♪ That a man don't understand
the good book right, that's all

♪ That's all

♪ He's gotta have religion
now, I tell you, that's all

♪ He can go to the
college or go to the school

♪ But if he hasn't got religion
he's an educated fool, that's all

♪ Oh, well, well, that's all

♪ You've gotta have more love,

♪ more understanding every
day of your life, that's all

♪ People are fine to one another,
and they think they're doing swell

♪ All they want is your money, and
you can go to... woah! That's all

♪ Oh, well, well, that's all

♪ They've gotta have religion
now, I tell you, that's all