06x06 - Man Overboard – Part Two

[bunniefuu]

We can send a small team to
the UK to work on the case.

'You are to liaise with
Detective Inspector Jack Mooney.'

I think I may have found him.

Like a tiny velociraptor, it was.

Grrr.

Is it good to be back, sir?

You know what, Florence? Yes.

We're in London. So is Martha.

So what do you think you'll do?

Go see her?

Sorry, drive on.

I promised I'd go and
look up my Auntie Lilibeth.

Dwayne?

Running back to your mummy again, eh, boy?

The suspects got the first
flight back to London at 6am.

Good work.

- We've got him.
- Great.

What's going on?

Thank God you're here.

He's dead.

OK, here he comes.

Mike Wilson's jet landed at
City Airport 20 minutes ago.

- So it's happening?
- It's happening.

Dominic, in reception to greet
him, take him up to the roof.

Martin, check the caterers know
what they're doing for the drinks.

And, Steve, he's a cigar man -- nip
across the road to the Whisky Club

- and get a couple of their specials
for after he's signed. - Right.

- Welcome to London, Mr Wilson.
- Thank you.

- How was your flight?
- It was good.

Whisky, please.

'Hello, this is Martin West.
Please leave a message.'

Martin, you're supposed to
be up here now. Where are you?

I'm telling you, I know
what a g*nsh*t sounds like,

and that was a g*nsh*t!

- What the hell was that noise?
- The door's locked!

- Hold on!
- What happened?

Get away from the door.

- Oh, God!
- What's going on?

Keep back.

Argh!

Oh, God!

He sh*t himself!

- What's going on?
- Thank God you're here.

He's dead.

And you're saying the door
to the office was locked

- when you got there?
- That's right.

- Sorry, Miss Baxter?
- Yes?

You're certain there was no-one
inside when the door was broken in?

- I couldn't see anyone else, no. - OK.

Get in touch with head of security.

- Find out who has keys to Frank
Henderson's office, please. - Sir.

Any sign of a key?

Yeah. There was one in
his trousers pocket.

So he could've locked the
door from the inside, but...

Why lock your office door in
the middle of a working day?

Unless you're up to no good, of course.

Yeah, or about to blow
your brains out. Excuse me.

There's something else you need to see.

The single cufflink.

Suggesting that Frank Henderson
m*rder*d Tom Lewis in the Caribbean,

and now he's taken his
own life in remorse.

Clearly not enough remorse
to leave a confession.

"Unknown number." Should we?

Be rude not to.

Hello?

Er, no, he's not at his desk.

Actually, he is at his desk,
but he's, erm... indisposed.

Who's this?

Oh, I see.

No, sorry, that won't be necessary.

Thank you.

- A restaurant in Knightsbridge. - Oh?

Frank Henderson tried to
book a table an hour ago.

They were ringing back with availability.

An hour before taking his own
life, he felt a bit peckish?

So he WAS m*rder*d.

OK, thank you.

Sir, that was the bank's head of security.

There are only two keys to this office.

Their copy, which is still in their safe,

and the key that Mr Henderson has.

In that case, we have a bit
of a problem, because this...

.. was not su1c1de.

This was m*rder staged
to look like su1c1de.

Wait a minute, hang on -- so either
our k*ller m*rder*d poor Frank,

then left the room with the key...

locked the door from the outside...

and then somehow managed to magic

the key back through the locked
door and into Frank's pocket?

Or he committed m*rder, left
the key in Frank's pocket,

locked the door from the inside...

and then somehow managed to magic
himself out of the locked room.

Either way, it's impossible.

What crate number's that?

That's number eight, sir.

There's some kind of
metal box in here, sir.

I mean, it's locked,
but it must be important

if it was hidden in there, you know?

Inspector. Do you have your man?

He was in this room only half an hour ago.

Why would he commit su1c1de?

He didn't.

I'm sorry to say, gentlemen, that
Frank Henderson was m*rder*d.

- What?!
- No! That's not possible!

So, if you can all start
by telling me where you were

when you heard the g*nsh*t.

Well, I was in the stairwell,

heading down from the roof to meet Frank.

He was supposed to be in the
reception, but he was late.

Was anyone else with you?

No, I was on my own.

Mr West?

I'd just been to the toilet on this floor.

Was heading back up to the
party when it happened.

Can anyone confirm that?

No.

What about you, Mr Thomas?

Where were you when the g*nsh*t went off?

I was in this room, trying
to get everything straight

- for the contract signings.
- I see.

So, none of you have an actual
alibi for the time of the m*rder?

But we don't need one, do we?

You didn't get to sign the big
deal, then, after all, did you?

- No.
- Pity.

Can only imagine how much
work you put into that.

Terrible shame.

What was this deal again?

We're supposed to be buying
a property portfolio from

- Mike Wilson's company today.
- Property?

£24 million worth of residential
and commercial units.

- Oh. - Look, whatever happened to
Frank, it had nothing to do with us.

And that's where you're wrong.

Because common sense tells me
that the m*rder of Frank Henderson

has to be connected to
the m*rder of Tom Lewis.

And there are only three people
in the whole world who I can

place both in the Caribbean for
the time of Mr Lewis's m*rder

and here for Frank
Henderson's m*rder today.

You three.

He has a point, fellas.

See, I know one of you is the k*ller.

It's just a question of working out who.

Dwayne, get our three suspects
out of their jackets and shirts.

I want their clothes bagged

and tested for evidence
of g*nsh*t residue,

and I want swabs taken from
their hands as well. Thank you.

Yes, Chief.

The murders have to be linked.

Absolutely, they are,

but trying to connect a huge
property deal in the City of London

with a fishing trip in the
Caribbean... Not going to be easy.

Or working out how it's
connected to smuggling.

Maybe the commissioner and
JP can help us with that.

Where is the key to open this?

Where did you find that?

Amongst the crates of bootleg
rum and the bag of cash

you and Mr Lewis stashed in the
secret compartment of your boat.

It's a little, silver key... on the
main ring of keys for the boat.

I had nothing to do with that side
of the business. It was all Tom.

How very convenient for you.

It's the truth. He wouldn't listen to me.

He said it was harmless.

So, he smuggled tobacco, alcohol?

Sometimes.

It was why Tom went back to the
boat the night he was k*lled.

He was taking delivery on the
crates of rum that you found.

'We'd get 500 if we delivered
them to a bar in St Lucia.'

Ms Boyd, is this the key?

Yes.

It's all there, everything
you want to know --

names, numbers, addresses.

No, no, that's perfectly clear. Thank you.

Now, that's interesting.

If I understood the financial
mumbo jumbo properly,

it seems that Mike Wilson's company
was selling his property portfolio

to City Met to solve a
huge cash flow problem.

Mike Wilson and Frank
Henderson were friends.

Now, the feeling was he'd only
deal with him, nobody else.

So with Frank Henderson
dead, the deal's off?

Yeah, well, that seems to be the case,

but this deal was due to
earn the bank a fortune.

Now, why would any of our
banker friends k*ll him

before it was signed?

Yeah... Is there anything
more on our three suspects?

Well, Chief, I've been
looking through their e-mails,

trying to find any links to the Caribbean,

but nothing at the moment.

I may have found something.
Steve Thomas's HR file.

This is his initial
application to join the bank.

Look -- there's a handwritten
note on the side.

Frank has known Mr Thomas for
years. He's his preferred candidate.

So Steve Thomas knew Frank Henderson
before he joined the bank?

Now, why has he not told
us that, do you think?

That's very deceitful.

Frank was a family friend
when I was a teenager.

How did your family know him?

Well, it was my mum, really.
Er, Frank was our neighbour.

It was years ago now. Frank lost
his licence for drink-driving.

Anyway, my mum was out of work,

so Frank employed her to be his driver

until he got his licence back.

Do you mind me asking, Steve,
how old were you at the time?

14.

And I liked him.

And when I didn't do that great at school,

he offered me a job here and I've
been working here ever since.

I should've told you
this sooner, shouldn't I?

It's just, I didn't think it was relevant.

But you have to believe me, pretty
much everything that is good

in my life now, I owe to Frank Henderson.

Are you sure it was m*rder?

Well, how do you mean?

Only we had to break Frank's
door down to get into his office,

and there was no-one else
in there when we got inside,

so if it was m*rder rather than
su1c1de, how did the k*ller

get out of a locked room
before we'd even arrived?

Yes, it's something of a puzzler.

And it was Frank who was
missing his cufflink.

The one you were looking for.

- How do you know that?
- How do I know what?

That Frank only had one cufflink.

Well, it's obvious, isn't it?

If Frank committed su1c1de,

it would be because he k*lled
that guy in the Caribbean,

for whatever reason.

In which case...

it must've been Frank who left
one of his cufflinks on the boat.

OK.

Thank you very much for your time.

- We've got no more questions.
- I'm free to go?

Yeah, unless there's anything
else you'd like to tell us.

- No, no. I've told you
everything I know. - Thank you.

Slip of the tongue?

Oh, it was that all right.

The question is, whether he
thought it through like he said...

or because he's our k*ller.

I don't know why yet, and
I'm not even sure how...

but I think he's our man.

OK, this is your bail document
relating to the smuggling charge.

We need to know where you're staying
each night until the court hearing.

I understand.

Please, catch his k*ller.

OK, will do.

Well, that was the Inspector.

He's pretty sure we've found our k*ller.

We have, sir? Great!

He wants us to concentrate
on Steve Thomas,

find anything that links
him to the victim,

so I suggest we start working
through Mr Lewis's papers

and phone records.

If the Inspector's right,

- we may find a reference to him
somewhere in here. - Yes, sir.

I'll start with this. You do the rest.

Yes, sir.

OK, financials have come in.

There's nothing suspicious in
Steve Thomas's bank statements.

Has no major debt, as far as I can see.

But there's something interesting
on Frank's bank statements.

Dwayne?

- Huh?
- Are you listening?

Frank Henderson has a standing
order every month of £280

that goes to a company called
Beaumont Street Health Clinic.

I just looked them up and they
offer psychiatric counselling.

He was in therapy?

Maybe Frank wasn't as
together as everyone thought.

You think maybe he did k*ll
Tom Lewis, then sh*t himself?

I'd better tell the Inspector.

Good idea.

OK, thanks, Florence.

Call the clinic, see what
else you can find out.

So what do we do now?

We wait.

Tea, man.

Cheers.

- Are you all right, Dwayne?
- Me? Why shouldn't I be?

No reason. You just seem quiet.

Well, they've got me working
underground like a rabbit,

what do you expect?

Is that all it is?

No, there's also the fact that
it's freezing cold outside.

Oh, I checked -- 14 degrees!
How do people live here?!

It's noisy, it's smelly and the air
is so polluted, you can eat it!

Sorry, Sarge.

Missing home, then?

What do you think?

Maybe you should go see
your Aunt Lilibeth.

That might cheer you up.

I don't think I'll have time, you know.

Sergeant Cassell.

So, er, your daughter... Does she
have any brothers or sisters?

No. Just the one.

- I'd've liked more, but...
- Ah, it's never too late.

Nah, my wife, she was ill
for a long time, you see.

We lost her last year.

I'm so sorry.

Ah, no, don't be sorry, no, no.

No, I was a lucky man, to have
had her for as long as I did.

She was an amazing woman.

Putting up with me for a start.

No mean feat, I can tell you.

That's a great way to think about it.

There's no other way.

She had a good heart, you know?

Kind.

What about you, Humphrey?
You married at all?

Not any more. It's for the best.

Nobody since, no?

One.

Oh?

Sort of a holiday romance, I suppose.

- In the Caribbean?
- Yeah.

She was travelling. She stayed
on in Saint Marie for a while.

She came back here to London,
only a few weeks ago.

Have you been to see her?

Ha! That's everyone's
worst nightmare, isn't it?

Someone you met on holiday
turning up on your doorstep

when you get home? "Surprise!"

Do you love her?

My grandfather told me a story once,

about these two wolves
fighting inside all of us.

And one of them is anger,
envy, self-pity, regret.

The other one is love, truth,
faith, hope, that sort of thing.

And I asked him, which one
of the wolves would win?

And do you know what he said?

"The one you feed."

For all you know, she's thinking,
why would you want to see her?

You know, when you've
got this marvellous life

out in the Caribbean.

Look, if he moves, I'll
call you straight away.

It's a promise.

Humphrey?

Hello, Martha.

What are you doing here?

Do you mean "here" as in
what am I doing in the UK

or do you mean "here"
as in talking to you?

Both! I mean, the second one.

Well, erm...

Erm, look, erm, why don't
you come and sit over here?

I'll... I'll get you a drink and,
erm... Have you... have you eaten?

- No. - Right. Erm, OK, I'll...
I'll sort you some food

and then, when it's quiet, we can talk.

OK. Thank you.

I-I'm sorry, I should've rung,
let you know I was coming.

No, it's all right. It's...
it's lovely seeing you...

even if it is a little unexpected.

There's a case. People from London.

Well, whatever it is,
I'm glad you're here.

Me, too.

I'm so sorry I didn't say
goodbye properly. It was just...

.. difficult.

Have you heard the story
about the two wolves?

I don't think so.

One's full of doubt and regret,

and the other's full of
love and hope and stuff.

And, well, they're fighting and the
one that wins is the one you feed.

Oh.

Does that make any sense?

- None at all.
- Right.

Maybe if you just said it,
you know, whatever it is...

- Without the wolves?
- Probably best. - Right.

When I bumped into you, you'd
just travelled the world,

deciding what you wanted
to do with your life,

and this is what you chose.

The thing is... Or,
rather, the point is...

Or the thing is...

.. I really, very much
hoped you'd have chosen me.

You're right, this is what I chose.

- And, in my heart of hearts, it's
where I want to be. - Excellent.

If things were different,

I would've loved to
have seen where it went,

but I could never ask you
to give up Saint Marie.

It's where your friends are.

Your job.

- Where you're happy.
- Yeah.

So if you're happy there
and I'm happy here...

then anything else will always
have 4,100 miles in between.

That's very precise.

I looked it up.

And we can't change that?

I don't see how.

At least this time I can say to your face

what I should've said last time.

- We can stay friends.
- Yes, of course.

- Go on, you say it first!
- (No, you say it.)

Goodbye, Martha.

Goodbye, Humphrey.

Bingo.

- Good morning.
- Good morning, Chief!

- Morning. - Any news from
Inspector Mooney on the stakeout?

Yes, Steve Thomas hasn't
moved from his flat.

Any joy from the clinic?

No, they won't release their patient
case files without a court order.

- I've applied for one.
- Oh, good. Anything else?

Well, we went through all
the financials last night.

Martin West and Dominic
Green each paid £100,000

to a company called London
Equity Trading five weeks ago.

- And? - I called London Equity Trading.

Mr West and Mr Green gave them the money

to go short on Mr Wilson's company.

I-I'm sorry, Dwayne, what does this mean?

Turns out it means they bet
their money that the share price

of Mike Wilson's company
was about to go down.

They bet £200,000 on this?

- Yep.
- That doesn't make sense.

Cos it was going to go up when
they'd signed the deal, surely?

Exactly, sir.

But since the deal fell through,
the share price of Mr Wilson's

company has collapsed, just like
Martin and Dominic bet it would.

So maybe Steve Thomas
isn't our man after all.

There is more.

Forensics.

The g*n used to k*ll Frank Henderson
was wiped clean, or whoever k*lled

him tried to wipe it clean, but it
looks like they only did the handle.

There were three clean
fingerprints on the barrel.

Belonging to Martin West!

- We'll be in touch.
- Wonderful, thanks very much.

Why don't you say what you came here
to say so we can get this over with?

Very well. Martin, can you tell
us why we found your prints

on the g*n that was used
to k*ll Frank Henderson?

I told you they'd find out.

What is this?

OK, I can explain.

The g*n belongs to me,

although it was my father's, originally,

from the Second World w*r.

I took it into the office years ago,

you know, to impress the lads.

It's been in the drawer
of my desk ever since.

Was it kept under lock and key?

So anyone could have taken it?

Anyone with a motive.

It's interesting you say that,
Mr Green. Detective Sergeant?

You each bet £100,000 that the
share price of Mr Wilson's company

was going to go down, even
as you were putting together

a deal to save his company.

Can you explain that?

OK. Wilson had always said

that he'd never sell any
portion of the company.

Not to anyone.

Martin and I never
thought it would happen,

so we decided to place a little side bet.

And the moment the deal was signed,
you'd both stand to lose £100,000.

So? That's how it goes in the City.

The smart guys always hedge their bets.

That's all that we were
doing. It's standard practice.

And do you really think that Martin
would be so stupid as to use his own

g*n to commit m*rder and then fail
to wipe the prints off afterwards?

Good point.

So maybe the real k*ller used
Mr West's g*n to frame him?

Look, I know that I'm innocent,

so maybe you should be looking elsewhere.

Where?

Steve Thomas.

You know that he's been seeing
a psychiatrist for years.

Is this the psychiatrist Frank
Henderson pays for each month?

Steve said that Frank paid for it.

So why is Steve in therapy?

Why don't you ask him?

Now if you'll excuse us, we've
got to get back to work.

Officer Hooper?

Officer Hooper!

Commissioner!

Commissioner.

I wasn't sleeping on the job.

- You weren't?
- No, sir.

Although maybe I was.

But I came back to the office
yesterday evening and I found

a memory card hidden in the
bottom of Mr Lewis's cashbox.

It turned out that it was a copy of
his old hard drive from the 1990s,

before he fled the UK, when he was
still working in the city of London.

So, erm, I printed out
everything I could find on it.

Yeah, old e-mails, correspondence, photos.

There's even a contacts list.

Any mention of Steve Thomas?

Well, I was going through
it, sir, when I...

Fell asleep?

But we don't need to mention
that on my appraisal.

Do we... sir?

I suggest we cr*ck on. Don't you?

There you go. Thought you might
be in need of a little sustenance.

Oh, that's very good of
you, Humphrey. Thank you.

So. Anything?

Still in there.

I think. He hasn't moved all night.

So how did it go?

Go?

Oh, right, erm...

Er... good. Good.

We got some closure.

I think that was important.

I'm glad I went. Thank you.

There he is!

Stop!

Right, you are under arrest.

It looks like he was
planning to do a runner.

I've also been through his mobile phone.

No calls of any significance
since yesterday --

just a few to his mum, that's it.

So, Mr Thomas...

Where were you off to this morning?

I was just going to get a
train somewhere. Anywhere.

Get away for the weekend.

If it was that innocent, why did you run?

I don't know, I just panicked.

I've done nothing wrong.

Even though you hid the truth of
your relationship with Mr Henderson?

Just like you hid your weekly
therapy sessions from us.

And the fact that Mr
Henderson pays for them.

- Does he?
- Mmm.

Well, that's going to
take some explaining.

Listen, when I first met Frank,

I wasn't just doing badly
at school, like I told you,

I was seriously messed up.

And I just lost it one day.

Couldn't cope.

Took an overdose of pills and vodka.

But it was Frank who found
me and took me to hospital.

He saved my life.

And he's been helping
me with therapy as well.

That's why I'd never harm him.

If it wasn't for him, I
wouldn't even be alive today.

Sir!

Inspector.

The g*nsh*t residue results are in.

There was no g*nsh*t residue found
anywhere on Frank Henderson's hand.

That's not surprising as we
don't believe he k*lled himself.

There was no g*nsh*t residue
on Steve Thomas's hands, either.

Or on his shirt or his jacket

or anywhere on his clothes, in fact.

He didn't fire the g*n?

It gets worse.

There was no g*nsh*t residue on Mr
Green or Mr West's clothes or hands.

None of them fired that g*n.

Can I go now?

- You're not going anywhere except
to our cells. - But I didn't do it!

Dwayne, to the cells. Thank you.

Come on.

How did Steve pull the trigger
without touching the g*n?

How'd he get out of a
locked room afterwards?

Er, Florence, get onto that cleaner

- who was first on the scene. What
was her name? - Katherine Baxter.

Yes. Let's speak to her
again. Go over her statement.

Maybe she'll remember something
about where Steve was or...

- or what he was doing just
before she arrived. - Yes, sir.

And we still need to work out
why Steve Thomas would want to

k*ll the man who once saved his life.

And how on earth that m*rder
is linked to the m*rder of

Tom Lewis in the Caribbean.

Yes!

This is it!

Sir, I just rang Katherine Baxter
on the contact number she gave us

and it doesn't exist.

So I looked up the address
she gave in her statement

and that doesn't exist, either.

- It doesn't?
- No.

So I called the HR department
of City Met Bank and they said

the strangest thing.

Wait.

There's no Kath Baxter working as
a cleaner on the payroll, right?

Thank you, sir. Chief!

- Yes? - The Commissioner's
on conference calling.

- Says he's got something.
- OK, Commissioner.

- Inspector...?
- Yes, sir?

- Are you there?
- Yes, what have you got for us?

It turns out we found a memory card
hidden in a box on Mr Lewis's boat.

Officer Hooper has e-mailed one
particular photo over to you.

Hold on, sir. Let me get that up.

Now, where are we? Where are we?

Have you got it yet?

Hang on, it's Tom Lewis
with his wife and his son?

Not just his one son.

According to his records, he had two sons.

And look who the younger one is.

That's Steve Thomas.

He's Tom Lewis' son?

Florence, can you get hold
of his birth certificate?

Yes, sir.

Because this is it, isn't it?

The link between Steve
Thomas and Tom Lewis

that we've been looking for all this time.

And we know that Frank Henderson
is a friend of the family.

So Steve Thomas is the only link
between these two men. But...

There was no g*nsh*t residue
on Steve Thomas' hands.

He didn't fire the g*n that
k*lled Frank Henderson.

And even if he did,

we still don't know how he
got outside the locked room.

- Yeah. - Assuming, of
course, it was actually...

Oh, my word.

Get away from the door.

Ah!

'You're certain there was no-one
inside when the door was broken into?

'I couldn't see anyone else, no.'

Frank has known Mr Thomas for years.

How does your family know him?

It was my mum, really.

Tom was a brilliant sailor.

But one day, he went out
when a storm was forecast.

And he took his son...

I was seriously messed up.

- Took an overdose.
- When there is no possible way

for something to have
happened, it probably didn't.

But that's not possible, is it?

What?

Er... hang on.

I'm not sure I'm following.

That's it!

What is?

You get it?

Of course!

That's very clever.

That's very devious.

But if Steve Thomas isn't our man,

then what's the best way
of using that information

to bring Frank Henderson's
k*ller out of the shadows?

Exactly.

Steve's phone.

Steve's phone, where is it?

- Shall I?
- Be my guest.

I have no idea what's going on. You?

"Police know everything. Meet me
at the office in half an hour."

I like it.

And send.

Have you got eyeball on our suspect yet?

Yes, Chief.

The eagle has landed.

The eagle has landed.

Ah, Florence!

OK, so what is it you want us to see?

I thought you might be interested
to meet Frank Henderson's k*ller

who is coming up in the lift

right now.

Sorry. Went to the little
boys' room. What's going on?

I don't understand. If
Frank's k*ller's in the lift

and the three of us are already here...

Katherine Baxter,

our mysterious cleaner.

Arrest her, Florence, for m*rder.

So, what's as big as an
elephant, looks like an elephant

and weighs nothing at all?

Well, the answer is,
of course, a shadow --

if it's the shadow of an elephant.

Well, because there's been a
shadow in this case all along.

That was you, Ms Baxter, wasn't it?

Because it was you who
k*lled Frank Henderson.

Why would an office cleaner
want to k*ll Frank?

Well, because, Mr Green...

.. she's not really an office cleaner.

She's Steve's mother.

Here we have all the evidence we need.

Steve's mother's listed as Katherine
Thomas and his father, Tom Lewis.

I suppose you took your mother's
surname after your father

- left the country.
- Yes.

You might want to see this.

- Where did you get...?
- Because it turns out Mr Lewis

couldn't leave his past entirely behind.

But now we can finally understand
why Tom Lewis had to die.

Because back in the day he and
his family were great friends with

a fellow broker, Frank Henderson.

That's when you first got
to know him, wasn't it?

You and your older brother.

Then one day tragedy struck.

I remember Frank made a slip of the
tongue when he told us the story.

And they were both swept overboard.

It sounded like he meant that
both Mr Lewis and his son

were swept overboard.

But what he really meant was
that both Mr Lewis' children were

on board the boat that day and
both of them were swept overboard.

Isn't that right, Steve?

You and your brother
were swept into the sea.

Your father must have been faced
with every parent's worst nightmare.

He could only dive in and
save one of his children.

So who did he choose?

Wasn't you, was it?

Tom should never have gone out that day.

He knew there was a storm forecast.

You're both brilliant sailors.
It's amazing. We're going to go out

as far as we can go.

When it all happened, he tried
to save John, our eldest.

But it was no good.

He drowned.

- Tom thought Steve had drowned
as well... - Steve! Steve!

.. that he'd lost both of them.

Steve was picked up by a
lifeboat a little while after.

Said when he saw Steve
and realised he was alive

he should've been happy.

But he knew what Steve was thinking...

.. that his own father
hadn't tried to save him.

I can't even begin to think how
you felt every time you looked at

your father...

and knowing you were
the one he left to die.

Leave him alone!

I was the one that k*lled Frank Henderson.

You got that exactly right.

I know.

But you k*lled Frank because he
was going to tell us who k*lled

Mr Lewis out in the Caribbean.

Wasn't he?

That person being your son -- Steve.

And in the cruellest coincidence of
all, on an island in the Caribbean,

you recognised the
father who left you to die

but he didn't recognise you.

And once Steve realised who
the local boat captain was,

this man who left them with
nothing, who left him to drown...

.. all those years of hate
boiled up, didn't they?

And later that night you followed
your father back to his boat.

And is that where you saw him
open the secret compartment to

take delivery of the smuggled rum?

You confronted him.

And things escalated, didn't they?

Remember me?

Because if your father was prepared
to leave you for dead all those

years ago, well, then you were
prepared to return the favour.

But once you'd wreaked your revenge

you were stuck with a bit of a problem --

the dead body of your
long-estranged father

and a partner, Sophie, who was
coming back to the boat at any moment.

Which is when, I assume, you
remembered a storm was coming in.

I bet you thought it was fate.

Just as your betrayal had
happened on a boat in a storm,

so your revenge would be the same.

You took the boat out to sea and
when the storm had blown through

you set the scene.

Pulling down the rigging,
dropping the boom.

You dressed your father to make
it look like he'd wrestled with

the storm all night.

But your masterstroke,

absolute masterstroke,

was to do the one thing
that no k*ller ever does.

And that was to stay at
the scene of the crime.

Oh, it's brilliant.

Knowing that if you could hold your nerve,

well, you could employ some pretty
novel accomplices to get you back

to shore.

Namely the Saint Marie Police Force.

Then, once the coast was clear,

just leave at your own convenience.

But you made one mistake.

When you were fighting your
dad, your cufflink tore off.

Which meant we came
looking for you in London.

And the moment Frank Henderson
learned that Tom Lewis had been

the man who'd been k*lled that day...

well, he knew there was only
one person it could've been.

I mean, this was a man who made
a living out of making deals.

I'll wager he tried to convince
you to hand yourself in,

to get a reduced sentence for doing so.

But that's not how you saw it.

It's not how your mother saw it, either.

It... it's just, I think she
then set in motion a plan.

Only to be enacted if Frank
refused to back down, mind.

- Frank's got to see reason!
- Come in!

But unfortunately, Frank
couldn't do that, could he?

You must confess. If you don't confess...

- Look, I can't confess.
- I'm ringing them now.

- No! Don't touch that phone.
- Come on, you're not going to use that.

- I will.
- You won't use it.

I'm not being silly. Touch that...

So you sh*t him dead.

Yeah. In cold blood.

Leaving your son to set the scene
to make it look like a su1c1de.

I imagine that's when Steve
took Frank's cufflink.

But your plan required one final flourish.

After all, why would a
passing cleaner say that

a room was locked when it wasn't?

The door's locked!

And who'd be looking if she
only engaged the lock after...

.. after the door had been bashed in?

Oh, God!

He's sh*t himself.

It was an apparently impossible m*rder.

It only made sense once you
realised the real identities

of the two people involved --

a son who k*lled his father

and a mother who'd already lost one son

and wasn't prepared to lose another.

Well, we got there in
the end, Officer Hooper.

Yes, we did, sir.

You'll maybe want to see this.

What is it?

What is it? Your appraisal.

Oh.

Exceptional?

You were the one who stayed up all night,

who found the memory card, the photo,

who cracked the case wide open.

You didn't give up.

And when you don't give up,
you've always got a chance.

Oh, thank you, thank you, sir!

Thank you, sir. Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Ah, come in, son.

I'm not here to play
happy families, you know.

I don't need this.

Well, I do.

Then let's hear it.

I was six when you left.

No big deal.

A lot of kids have to cope
with their parents breaking up.

Then, what's your problem?

My problem is that you and me

had nothing to do with
you and Mum splitting up.

How could it?

You came to see me every other
Saturday for about -- what --

six months? You remember that?

I remember.

And do you remember us talking about
the dog you were going to buy me?

And what we'd do when I grew up?

You weren't there every
day but I had a dad.

I knew you wanted me because you came.

Then one Saturday you never turned up.

Then three months later you turn
up drunk, shouting and screaming

and asking Mum to sell some of
our furniture to give you half.

I didn't see you again after that, huh?

That was 46 years ago.

You see, old man, that little boy
waiting for his father to turn up

is still inside here somewhere.

I'm here for him -- to tell
you that he didn't need you.

That he grew up,

took care of his family,
buried his mother.

That he's got a home, a life,
friends, people who care about him.

That he survived you.

Is there any food in this
country that isn't fried?

Hi, Dad.

Ah, here she is.

Siobhan, this is Humphrey and Florence.

Very pleased to meet you.

- Hello.
- Dad's told me all about you.

Yeah, only the good stuff.

So, you're Dad's unofficial taxi?

You know, whenever Dad needs
to get home from the pub.

- What'll I get you?
- Lemonade, please.

Not seen him smile like this for a while.

Yes, he told us about
your mum. I'm so sorry.

Bet he didn't tell you
it was only a month ago.

No. No, he didn't.

He thinks if he makes it sound
like it's a long time ago,

people won't feel so sorry for him.

So, how did you end up being
a detective in the Caribbean?

It's a very long story.

With a happy ending, I hope.

I think it's still in the balance.

- Chief, Sarge.
- Where did you get to?

No need to know.

This mine?

- There we are, love.
- Thank you.

Dwayne, this is for you. Rum.

Oh, thank you very much.

So, back to paradise for
you lot tomorrow, is it?

Yes, yes. Yes, it is. Yes.

I'll drink to that!

Although, strictly speaking,
paradise is a state of mind.

You know that, right?

I mean, the dung beetle -- very
different idea of paradise,

doesn't he?

And then you have the dust mite.

You know what, Jack?

You're absolutely right.

I am?

Chief?

I'm terribly sorry, it's my mistake.

Humphrey?

I just wanted to say...

Well, I suddenly realised it's all
a matter of perception, really,

some of us are dung beetles, some
of us are butterflies or parrots.

The thing is, paradise is
very much what you make it

or, more to the point,
who you make it with.

The honest, simple and very plain
truth is that there's no point

me being in the Caribbean if
you're going to be over here.

Because where you are is where
my paradise is and where you are

is where I want to be.

I love you.

Not quite love you or rather
love you, but massively,

heart-pumpingly love you and I'd
like to stay in London with you.

Forever.

If you'll have me, of course.

Did I say I love you?

Yes.

And the staying bit?

I think this is the bit where you kiss me.

You mean?

What about your job?

Don't worry, I've got a plan for that.

Wow! Look at this.

It's amazing.

It's incredible.

Very kind of Humphrey to let
us have his house like this.

I told him you needed a holiday.

Well, I have to say, a change
of scenery is very nice indeed.

- There you are.
- Ah, cheers.

Oh, there's a pet lizard
we should tell you about.

- A lizard?
- Harry.

So, how will we recognise him?

He's green.

Right, that narrows it
down a bit, thank you.

Hello. Commissioner.

Sir,

this is Detective Inspector Jack
Mooney and his daughter, Siobhan.

Inspector Goodman has
told me all about you.

Ah. Humphrey's a great fella.

I was just saying how nice of him
it was to offer us his house for

a couple of weeks.

Though I understand he's not
entirely sure when he'll be back,

so who knows,

you could take a little longer.

You don't know my boss.

He's one fierce individual.

I spoke to Chief Inspector
Harris this afternoon.

Did you? He wasn't rude to you, was he?

I mean, he genuinely is a terrible man.

He spoke very highly of you.

He wasn't drunk, was he?

He said that you should
take all the time you needed.

And if necessary we could call it
some kind of exchange programme.

Really? Well...

That was very considerate of him.

Yeah.

So, on behalf of the Saint
Marie Police Department,

Detective Inspector, Siobhan,

welcome to paradise.

- Welcome to paradise!
- Welcome to paradise.

This festival I keep hearing about...

Saint Ursula's Day.

You drink a lot of rum and
party wildly in the street.

Ay-yay-yay!

I have some very important
information about

a m*rder of Julie Matlock.

You got the wrong person.

Inspector, you answered
the call to arms, I see.

- So what do we do now?
- Reopen the case.

If every police officer looked like
you, I wouldn't mind being arrested.

Unfortunately, Tony, most
police officers look like me.