03x08 - Immune

[bunniefuu]

In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups the police who investigate crime and the Crown Prosecutors who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.

Can't get enough of that unique blend! What is it? Seven pieces.

I paid for nine.

It was a mistake, that's all.

It doesn't matter.

Bastard ripped me off.

That's not on.

No-one eats nine, anyway.

You throw up after five.

Scientific fact.

Chris.

Chris! Chris! sh*t.

Are you joking right now? For a piece of chicken? Oi! You owe me a Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Get over there! Move! Give me the money! Hurry up! I said over there! You wanna die? What's that? Christ! What have you done? Give me the money! Come on! Quicker! Hurry up! You, get back! You, get back! Get down! Stay down! Come on, come on, come on! Get out of the way! Out! Hurry! Get out of the car! No! Do it! DO IT! You need to put the g*n down.

What's going on? Frankie! Jamie, behind you! Get in the car, quick! You bloody idiot! You sh*t him! Come on, drive or you're dead.

Go! Go! Go! Get inside.

So you didn't get a good look at him, and he never took off the balaclava? No.

I only wanted a couple of pieces of chicken.

Thanks.

What time? It was about two.

Just after the lunchtime rush.

How much did they take? A grand, maybe more.

Anything that you can remember about them at all? He had a g*n.

Anything else? He had a g*n.

Right, thank you.

The blue Astra that's the robbers' car.

We're running the plates.

What about the car they got away in? A silver Omega.

No-one saw the registration, but it was a cab.

Had one of those pre-book-only, private-hire stickers on the window.

Yeah.

And the driver? Hostage, maybe.

Or millstone.

Yeah.

Anything else? Yeah.

Some witnesses said the accomplice got hit by a stray b*llet.

His mate sh*t him? He was holding the g*n like that.

So zero control.

We should be grateful more people didn't get k*lled.

Yeah, well, one's enough.

All right, Pete, what have you got? Gordon McKenzie.

44.

Quantity surveyor.

And according to this, he was on his way to a job interview.

Ended up trying to be a hero.

I'm sure that'll be a big comfort.

We traced the Astra to a Jeff Miller.

Said it was nicked from outside his flat where he left it.

Yeah? Watertight alibi.

At the time of the robbery he was doing the six-two shift at a petrol station.

And he's got proof of that? Yeah.

Three colleagues, eight cameras Thank you.

Ronnie! .

.

and about 250 motorists.

What about the Omega driver any news? Not yet.

Of the driver or the car.

I was afraid of that.

Missing Persons have been alerted.

We're checking all listed cab firms to see if any drivers went AWOL.

Maybe he was going home.

See if there's a worried wife out there.

Yeah.

The b*ll*ts we retrieved from the scene are from a 9mm handgun.

That's the m*rder w*apon we're after.

Chances are they've still got the g*n.

That's right.

We've found the Omega cab firm.

Yeah, Mikey's one of my best drivers.

Always on time.

Always courteous.

Punters love him.

And he never got home today? Well, he had a pick-up at Gatwick.

It was a nightmare.

Plane was delayed, so he'd been hanging around at the airport since the cr*ck of dawn.

So I just told him to drop the passenger off, and then go home and get some shut-eye.

His wife's been calling him on his mobile and getting nothing.

When she's not calling him, she's calling me.

What time was the drop-off? About two.

Where was that? Falkland Road.

That's round the corner from the chicken place.

What chicken place? Has something happened? Michael Coombes.

White male, 43.

Ex-Army, three years in Afghanistan.

The mug-sh*t's from his taxi-driver's licence.

We'll have a better one after we get back from his wife.

No need.

This is Mrs Coombes.

DS Brooks and DS Casey.

I called his work.

They said you'd been there.

Have you found him? We've got a lot of men looking, Mrs Coombes.

He couldn't just disappear.

Someone must've seen something.

And if they did, we will find them.

Yeah.

Take a seat, please.

When was the last time you saw your husband? This morning.

And anything out of the ordinary happen? No.

When he left, it was still dark.

He didn't want to put the light on and disturb me.

He kissed me.

I went off to sleep.

And it was later that I saw he'd forgotten his spare inhaler.

Right.

So he's asthmatic, yeah? Yeah.

Just a minute.

Yes? Please, carry on.

He's had a couple of bad att*cks.

Hospital, ventilators, the whole It came on just after he got back from Afghanistan.

They say there isn't a connection, but he was fine before he left.

Tash, would you mind taking Mrs Coombes for a cup of tea? Thanks.

We'll come and find you in a minute.

Thank you.

They just brought a bloke into Royal Caledonian A&E.

They found him unconscious at King's Cross with 600 quid in his pocket.

So? He's been sh*t.

They found him in the train toilet just before it pulled out.

He'd lost a lot of blood.

Here's what they found on him.

Frank Donovan, who lives half a mile from Jeff Miller and his blue Astra.

And where is he, please? He's there.

They're just about to take him into surgery.

Frank Donovan? What happened to the driver you kidnapped? Not now.

What did you do with him, Frank? You'll have to wait.

Where is he, before it's too late? That's enough.

He needs surgery.

The man he kidnapped suffers from asthma.

He could be in danger.

We need him to tell us where he is.

After surgery.

And if he doesn't make it? Frank Donovan.

He's got form, but low-rent stuff.

He did a stretch for ABH a couple of years ago.

Nothing since then.

He's certainly making up for lost time today, isn't he? Yeah.

You think, if we ever find him, Michael Coombes will be needing that inhaler again? I think this is a robbery that's gone badly out of control.

I think we're dealing with desperate men with sh**t, which is never a good combo.

But I honestly think, until there's a body, Sam, there is hope.

Here we go.

How is he? He'd been bleeding internally for hours.

And the b*llet? Is he awake? He's just out of surgery, Detective.

He's lost a lot of blood.

What he needs Is he awake? Thank you.

Go easy on him.

Nurse? Will you excuse us? Thank you.

Hello, Frank.

Michael Coombes.

Tell us where he is, and you can get some more rest.

Can you pass me that that drink down there? I don't know what you're talking about.

You don't remember the robbery, the sh**ting, the man you kidnapped? See, this is all news to me.

How do you explain getting sh*t, then? It must've been kids, you know? Thank you.

The best you can do, is it, Frank? You think this is the first day on the job for us, do you? How do you explain the money, Frank? I won it on the horses.

What horse? What race? Ask my lawyer.

Miriam Pescatore.

She'll know.

Come on! What is the matter? Can we avoid assaulting the beverage dispenser, Ron? Hello, guv.

Audrey Coombes is ringing me every ten minutes.

The local press have got the story.

What have you got for me? He wants his lawyer.

All right, guv? Sam.

Did they retrieve the b*llet? No.

It was a through-and-through.

It might be in the Omega.

Let's hope so.

So far we're looking a little flat-footed.

Any traces from the Astra? Nothing yet.

No prints, no DNA, nothing to link Frank Donovan to the crime.

Although Mr Donovan doesn't know that, does he? So Michael Coombes where is he? Did you k*ll him too? We've got traces of your DNA, Frank, all over that Astra.

It puts you at the scene.

Where's my lawyer? Robbery and m*rder.

That's right m*rder.

The guy who got sh*t at the scene's dead.

So now there's a mum trying to explain to her two kids why Dad isn't ever coming home again.

It doesn't matter who actually pulled the trigger.

We can get you on joint enterprise.

That means life.

So don't make it any worse than it is, Frank.

Where is he? You know Michael Coombes is a w*r veteran? Do you know that? Time in Afghanistan.

He doesn't deserve this, does he? No.

Do one good thing today? Help yourself, Frank.

Tell us where you left Michael Coombes.

There's only one person helping himself, Detective.

Interviewing my client without legal representation? Naughty.

Well, now you're here.

So where is he, Frank? We need to wake the CPS.

We know what he's after.

Don't give him a thing.

Why don't we hear what he has to say first? Because he lies like other people breathe.

We don't do deals.

Sure you do.

Ever since the Serious and Organised Crime and Police Act of 2005 made provision for an immunity agreement.

But that's a We want a piece of it.

A piece? Do you know what I want a piece of? Sign this, and he'll tell you the whereabouts of Michael Coombes.

Dead or alive? My client swears the last time he saw Mr Coombes he was very much alive.

He'd seen our faces.

So we tied him up to give us time to get away.

And how long were you planning on leaving him? He has bad asthma.

Well, then, it's in your interests to find him before it's too late.

And the name of your accomplice, his address, all you have on him, and you'll turn Queen's evidence against him at trial.

Just sign, and you get it all.

We draw up the contract.

You don't.

Contract? Fine, word it how you like, but it has to include these conditions, and unless I'm happy with it YOU'RE happy? This isn't a negotiation.

'In return for information relating to the whereabouts of Michael Coombes, I Frank Donovan will plead guilty to manslaughter for all crimes related to the hold-up of Chick-Chick Chicken.

' Manslaughter, for k*lling an innocent bystander? Do you want to find him? Shut up! Shut your face.

Why are we even considering this? We charge them.

Isn't that how it's supposed to work? Since when did some lying piece of sh*t get to decide? Sam! Tear it up, then.

If you think it's such a waste of time, let's forget all about it.

The bin's there.

I don't like it.

Nobody likes it.

Then let's not do it.

And if Michael Coombes dies? What makes you think you can trust Frank Donovan? You've only got his word that Coombes was alive when he left him.

Natalie? Give Donovan what he wants now, and if it doesn't work out, throw the book at him.

And set a precedent.

What does that say about us? We're not for sale.

It's not as simple as that.

It is for Mrs Coombes.

If this man dies and we could've saved him, how does that make us look? Who cares how it looks? Watch his widow on The Ten O'clock News, then ask me that.

When was Coombes taken? Around 2pm.

12 hours ago.

So make the deal, and maybe save this man's life.

Only he may already be dead and I'll have granted his k*ller immunity.

Or don't do the deal and pray he doesn't die while we're out looking, assuming that we ever do find him.

Alesha? We proceed as if he's alive.

Jake? I agree.

Draw up the wording.

I need to see it before we make the deal.

You've got ten hours.

We'll sign at noon.

Who lives in an armpit like this? Not Frank Donovan, at least not for a few days anyway.

Yuck.

There's a cure for something growing in there.

Anything? No.

Just junk.

Flyers and stuff.

Ten hours? Ten hours.

What are we, miracle workers? On a daily basis, Sam.

- It's needles and haystacks.

- Rabbits and hats, son.

OK.

Where next? Well, there's only one other address on CRIMINT.

Belongs to his mum.

Doesn't look like somewhere where MY mum'd live.

That's what it said.

Stupid.

Someone's typed it into CRIMINT wrong.

You think? How are we meant to do this? I mean, wait until everyone wakes up? We've got eight hours left.

Right, hang on.

Let's come at it from another angle, eh? Friends and associates? He was in prison, right? Wardingly.

Handling stolen goods.

So he had visitors.

Who had to fill in visitors' orders and give their addresses.

But it's a prison.

They're won't just let us walk in and out.

But I know a man who can.

Come on.

Morning, Ron.

Thanks for coming, mate.

How's the missus? Good as gold, yeah.

I'm not doing this, Ron.

And I appreciate you're not doing it, Pete, thank you.

Right, his mum's address is 23 Landsmere Grove.

Great.

I won't forget it.

Yeah, you will.

But I'll remind you.

Cheers, Pete, thank you.

Samson, shut up! Who is it? Is Maggie there? Who wants to know? The police.

It's a bit early, innit? Oi! Where's your ID? Will you please shut that dog up? You need a warrant.

You're trespassing.

You see, everyone's a lawyer.

Where's Maggie Donovan? Who wants to know? Police.

Whereabouts does your Frankie live, Maggie? Don't tell them anything.

You don't have to.

He is dangerously out of control.

That's a criminal offence.

The Dangerous Dogs Act only covers public places.

Samson ain't in a public place.

Oi, oi! You can't! Hey! Oi, don't put him outside, he gets lonely! Samson! He is now.

So, Frank He's not staying at his own flat, so where else does he stay? What does he mean, Gerald? What's a criminal offence? Gerald? Where does Frankie stop? He's bluffing, Mum.

Shut it, Gerald.

Intimidation, that's what this is.

Really? Does Samson look like a banned breed to you? He's got the right characteristics.

That's two years right there.

Don't listen to 'em, Mum.

So Samson gets destroyed, and Gerald does some real time, unless, of course, Maggie, you tell us where Frankie is actually living.

Come on, Maggie.

Mum, don't say anything.

He sometimes stays with his girlfriend in Whetstone.

He's been straight for years.

He promised me.

God.

He's got his life back.

He's studying and everything.

Studying? He's doing a part-time law degree at Birkbeck.

It's all gone to waste now.

Trust me, it hasn't.

Did you see him at all yesterday? I wish I had.

Then I could've God, how could he have been so stupid? Well, did you speak to him, then? He called me in the afternoon.

Said he needed my van.

I work for the council parks and gardens.

Did he do that often? He borrowed it sometimes.

I do private gardens too, cash in hand, and he helps me with that.

He said he was dropping off some bedding plants and he'd be back in half an hour.

He used the spare keys.

And when were you going to report the van missing? Why would I? He brought it back, like he said.

Nah, nothing.

Too much to hope for, wasn't it? Where are my saplings? Sorry? I had half a dozen saplings in here and a tarpaulin.

All right.

Sam There's blood here.

Can you get forensics? Yeah, will do.

Blood? But I've to get up Totteridge Common.

No.

Not in that van, you're not.

Why would he do that wake up one day and decide to? Frank had an accomplice yesterday.

He carried a g*n.

Does he know anyone like that? No.

I don't think so.

You sure? Think back.

Maybe from the old times.

Maybe who he did time in the nick with or something? Jamie Harper.

Him and Frank were cellmates.

I met him a few times.

He was a right thug.

Frank said he pitied him, said Jamie was unlucky.

Right.

James Harper.

Nasty piece of work.

Four previous for as*ault and possession.

Got the address, just need a warrant.

Two hours left till we agree the deal.

I'll sign it.

Armed Police! Armed police! James Harper? Michael Coombes? Clear! Clear! Clear! Right, lads, quick as you can.

Just check under the sofa for me, can you? Thank you.

We need anything that gives us a clue to Michael Coombes's whereabouts.

Bingo.

Looks like Harper's done a runner.

We're pretty sure Frank used the van to move the hostage, but he was only gone half an hour, which means Coombes must be near.

We need more time.

It's gone 11.

Jake, we're so close.

Give us to the end of the day.

Leave it with me.

This is Mrs Coombes.

Mrs Coombes, would you like to? Is it true you could've rescued my husband by now? That you could've made a deal? Who told you that? I got a call from a Miriam Pescatore.

She's representing one of the men we think are responsible for your husband's disappearance.

She had no business talking to you.

Who cares? Michael could've been safe all We don't make deals with criminals.

That's not how we do things.

Don't you dare talk to me about policy.

This is real! It's my husband all alone out there, and no-one is looking for him.

There are a lot of people looking for him.

But they don't know where he is, do they? And all this time, the answer's there, just waiting to be asked.

Mrs Coombes So ask! Thanks.

Miriam Pescatore has been busy, hasn't she? Audrey Coombes, the 24-hour news channels and most of the newspapers all wanting to know why we don't care if a w*r hero lives or dies.

That's ridiculous.

It's an angle, and it'll sell.

They've closing in.

They've narrowed it down to somewhere near Donovan's girlfriend.

The police need more time.

The deadline was midday.

We tried, Jake.

They've found the Omega.

No sign of a body in there.

They must've transferred Coombes to the van.

And took him where? There's no way they'll retrieve anything.

Right.

Gone 1:30.

I'm sorry, you did your best, but you've got nothing.

Where is he? Can I say? Now you can.

It was Jamie's idea, all right? Turning over the chicken place.

Jamie? James Harper.

It should've gone like clockwork.

We waited till the lunchtime crowd had gone.

We knew the till'd be full.

The place was empty.

Then them two kids came back.

We took the car, hid the driver and then we split up.

Where's Michael Coombes? Edmonton.

Vallance Road.

In a lock-up.

OK, that's great.

Thank you very much.

The blood in the back of the van belongs to Frank Donovan.

He couldn't have got here and back to his girlfriend's in half an hour.

So if he didn't use the van to dump Coombes, what did he use it for? How are you getting on, lads? Come on, then.

Thank you.

In you go, boys.

Armed police! Armed police! Michael Coombes? Michael? - Michael? - Over here, sir.

Is he alive? Paramedics in here, quick! There's no pulse, sir.

- Someone hit him? - Hard.

I'd say that was the cause of death.

And the fact that he was naked? This wasn't a sexual att*ck.

My guess? They burnt his clothes so there'd be no DNA.

Like the Omega.

They knew what they were doing.

When did he die? Body's cold.

Maximum lividity.

And I've got maggots hatching in the mouth and nose.

More than 24 hours? Easily.

But that means Yeah.

Frank Donovan knew Coombes was already dead when he made the deal.

We got played.

So throw it out.

It's worthless.

Just like that? Of course, just like that.

What happened to precedent, worrying about how we'll look? That was before I knew Donovan had k*lled Coombes and left him naked on some filthy floor to rot.

No dignity, nothing.

If the crime's bad enough, different rules apply? He stripped his victim, just to cover his tracks.

He only told us where Coombes was because he saw an angle.

Damn right, the crime's bad enough.

I don't remember reading anything about a sliding scale.

Not now.

If we break this agreement, no-one will trust us.

What happens next time? That's when we'll worry about it.

Now I'm more worried about being sucker-punched by Donovan.

I want you to go into the plea and case management swinging.

Hurt him.

You are Frank Donovan? I am.

You are charged on an indictment which contains two counts of m*rder, one of robbery and one of possession of a firearm with intent to endanger life.

What? I'm sorry.

There's been some sort of mistake, milady.

We have a signed agreement with the CPS.

The charge is manslaughter.

Mr Thorne? There's been no mistake, My Lady.

What? You signed it.

The charges stand, My Lady.

But this agreement It's meaningless.

It's binding.

It's a discussion for another time.

They welshed on the deal? Got Donovan for m*rder, robbery, the works.

Who says the CPS doesn't have a backbone? You did, about an hour ago.

So now we could do with some evidence.

We've got the confession.

That's all we've got at the moment.

Let's give ourselves a safety net.

Start with the witnesses.

See if we can't get someone to pick Frank out in an ID parade.

Just tell us when you recognise any of these guys, please.

No.

2.

No, No.

4.

It might be two.

I'm not sure.

I just caught a glimpse through the window.

Sorry, mate.

It's all right.

Come on.

So none of your witnesses can make a positive ID.

Thank you.

It's been very informative.

What about the kid behind the counter? He never went outside.

He could've got a glimpse through the window too.

An ID parade? But I never saw the other bloke.

Well, it might help jog your memory.

But I didn't go outside.

Why would I? g*ns f*ring.

I'm not that stupid.

Yeah, you are.

Give it a rest.

First rule.

At the end of the lunchtime rush, empty the till, and put the takings in the safe.

Yeah, yeah.

How hard is that? Which you didn't do.

I do my sister a favour, take on her waste-of-space kid who can't hold down a job.

This is how he repays me? I told you, I didn't have a chance.

The place was busy, non-stop.

Well, see if you can't pick him out.

You might surprise yourself.

Yeah, car's just round here, Billy.

It won't take that long.

What? Lying to us is very different from lying to your uncle, Billy.

I'm not lying.

No? All the witnesses said it wasn't busy.

You said it wasn't busy.

Why would I lie? Because you DID put the money back in the safe like you were taught.

After the robbery, you helped yourself to it and claimed the robbers cleaned you out.

No.

Which makes you part of the robbery.

No.

You're kidding.

An accessory after the fact, Billy.

Accessorius post factum, they call it in law.

And unluckily for you, the factum in this particular case is m*rder.

No, no, I didn't sh**t anyone.

You witness a crime.

Somebody dies.

To you that's an opportunity.

Do you know how warm that makes us feel? So be completely honest with us, put the money back and we'll keep what you did to ourselves.

OK? OK.

Now how much did they really take? Is that it? Yeah.

The £600 we found on Donovan weren't his share of the takings at all.

But all of it.

Yeah.

We know Donovan used his girlfriend's van.

The blood in the back confirms that, right? We thought it was to move Michael Coombes's body, right? Yeah.

Until we found him miles away.

What if it wasn't Michael Coombes's body he was moving? You think Donovan m*rder*d Harper? I can't see Harper handing Frank his share to invest wisely on his behalf, can you? No.

All right, so Donovan uses the van to move Harper where? He knew his girlfriend was working on Totteridge Common.

Absolutely.

No-one would question seeing her van up there in the woods It wouldn't take much.

No? No.

Follow the track off the main road.

Just the council working round here, nothing suspicious.

Yeah, I suppose.

Drag the body in and out, maybe ten minutes? Even though he'd been sh*t? If he's bleeding slow enough and he's desperate enough.

Over here! Jamie Harper.

Frank was right.

Wasn't very lucky, was he? This was a signed immunity agreement, My Lady.

Made invalid because Frank Donovan knew Coombes was already dead.

And you have proof of that? He should be prosecuted for the crime to which he has confessed.

But the Crown only got that confession because of the agreement they made, My Lady.

If they are now reneging on the agreement, they cannot expect to benefit from anything gained as a result of it.

My Lady, he lied.

If they are allowed to withdraw the agreement, I respectfully submit that the confession should also be excluded.

She has a point, Mr Thorne.

Frank Donovan confessed Because he believed himself protected by the agreement.

If you honour the agreement, you can keep the confession.

Back out of it, and you lose the confession as well.

Choose which you want.

You can't have it both ways.

And since the entire case is built on this confession, it follows that, should it be excluded, there is, in fact, no case to answer.

My Lady, may I request a moment to confer? Quickly, Mr Thorne.

We're agog.

I need physical evidence.

What have you found? Does Jamie Harper count? Will he give evidence? He's dead.

We just found him Don't tell me.

What? I don't want to know.

My Lady, the Crown withdraws its objections to the immunity agreement.

We agree to alter the indictment to reflect one count of manslaughter and accept the plea of guilty.

The Crown offers no further evidence.

Very well.

Sentencing will be in two weeks.

He kills three people, and gets manslaughter? Well, gotta say, guys, you prosecuted the hell out of that one.

Three? I only know of two murders he was involved in.

Gordon McKenzie at the scene and Michael Coombes.

He k*lled James Harper as well.

And you can prove that, can you? Got any witnesses who put them together the day Harper d*ed? I have.

Frank Donovan himself.

His confession.

Where he admits to being with Harper.

An admission I wouldn't have, if I hadn't also allowed the agreement.

An admission I can use when we charge him with the m*rder of James Harper.

Donovan gets away with the k*lling of the innocent bystander McKenzie, but then goes down for murdering James Harper? Justice is blind.

And sometimes a little bit sneaky.

Not in a million years.

I've got his confession, remember? And I have the agreement.

Which was never meant to cover a situation like this.

I had no idea it was so selective.

t*rrorists, Miriam.

It's there so we can make deals, prevent widespread carnage and save lives.

Not so that low-rent scum like Frank Donovan can get off.

This is the system and it doesn't discriminate.

It doesn't stop just because you don't like it.

Win at all costs, is that it? No.

Just within the law.

And you think that's what Frank Donovan deserves? I think it's what he's entitled to.

You know this is irrelevant.

Really? 'All crimes related to events at the Chick-Chick Chicken'.

This is unrelated.

Crap.

With respect.

Two events.

Miles away, hours apart.

Part of the same crime, and so caught by the agreement.

One's a robbery, the other's m*rder.

Where's the connection? Abuse of process.

You can hear the connection in court.

I needed the money.

Why? I'd borrowed some from someone local.

To pay off my gambling debts.

He wanted it back.

You mean a loan shark? He said he'd break my legs.

So you decided to steal the money.

It was Jamie's idea to do the chicken place.

James Harper, your former cellmate.

Yeah.

He said it was ideal.

There's a school down the road.

It's always busy at lunchtime.

Doddle.

So what happened? Jamie blew it.

He was wired.

I could tell that the moment I saw him.

He went in, panicked He only got, like, 600 quid.

Then he's outside, sh**ting the g*n.

We grabbed the driver, got away.

Jamie's all over the place, shouting and screaming.

And after that? We dumped the driver, torched the car.

By now, I'd found out my share was only gonna be 300.

What good's that? I needed it all.

I tried explaining it to him, but there was no way he was gonna give me his share.

So what did you do? I k*lled him.

Because you needed the money? Yeah.

Which is why you robbed Chick-Chick Chicken in the first place? Yeah.

You k*lled James Harper as a direct result of what happened there? Yeah.

I didn't have a choice.

Let me get this straight.

Donovan confessed to a m*rder to avoid being prosecuted for that m*rder.

How the hell did we get here? The loan shark story pans out.

Reckons Donovan owed him over a grand.

Denies the bit about breaking his knees, of course.

Which makes it part of the same crime.

So by backing down and allowing the immunity agreement to stand, you let Frank Donovan off the hook for James Harper's m*rder.

That wasn't what I intended.

Remind me again.

This is the Crown Prosecution Service, right? For God's sake, I said hurt him, not give him a get-out-of-jail-free card.

It isn't over yet.

If I can prove I didn't know James Harper had been m*rder*d, I can argue I wasn't in possession of all the facts when I decided to let the agreement stand.

But everyone saw you talk to the police before that.

Didn't hear what they said, though.

Tread with care.

Miriam Pescatore thinks she can cry abuse of process? It's not me that needs to tread carefully.

He could avoid the Harper m*rder as well? Not if I can help it.

It's because of that agreement.

If you'd not made it, like we said I can still get Donovan for Harper's m*rder if I can show I didn't know that it was m*rder.

We told you.

Told me what? You stopped us telling you anything.

You knew it might come to this.

It was a possibility.

Slippy.

Legal bollocks.

Which'll put Donovan behind bars.

We'll have to give evidence.

Commit perjury, you mean? No-one's asking you to do that.

No? You're asking us to risk everything, so you don't feel so guilty about making the arrangement in the first place.

You only need one of us to give evidence, right? Probably.

OK.

Tell me where and when.

Doubling up would be a criminal waste of manpower, wouldn't it? I had the briefest of conversations with Detective Sergeants Brooks and Casey.

And they told you what? That James Harper was dead.

Nothing else? You'll remember, My Lady, you were keen for me to keep it brief.

And when you heard that, what was your reaction? I was disappointed.

I was hoping we would apprehend Mr Harper and use his evidence to secure a successful conviction against Mr Donovan.

With his death, any such hope disappeared.

I accepted the immunity agreement as the best of a bad situation.

Did you not think that Frank Donovan had k*lled James Harper? I didn't even know he'd been m*rder*d.

Merely that he was dead.

Thank you.

Merely that he was dead? That's right.

What do you think he d*ed of? Old age? A broken heart? My Lady Rein in the sarcasm, Ms Pescatore.

A violent man dies.

Did you not make room for the possibility that he himself might have d*ed violently? I try to avoid assumptions.

You never know when they're going to trip you up.

You never said James Harper had been k*lled? No.

Even though he'd been sh*t in the back of the head? That is correct.

I'd say that was quite an important aspect of the case.

Do you make a habit of burying the lead? My Lady Nothing further.

Mr Thorne? We have no further witnesses.

Ms Pescatore? As there's one person we haven't heard from, yes.

We call Detective Sergeant Casey.

Detective Sergeant Sam Casey to court No.

1.

'Detective Sergeant Sam Casey to court No.

1.

' I swear by almighty God that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Detective Sergeant Casey, you discovered the body of James Harper in woodland up in Totteridge Common, is that right? Yes.

And it was such a significant discovery that you came down here to the Old Bailey as a matter of some urgency.

I suppose.

So urgent, in fact, that you entered a hearing, so that you could tell Mr Thorne in person.

Yes, I did.

So I'm asking you, DS Casey, after dashing down here from North London, after entering a hearing in progress, did you tell Mr Thorne that James Harper had been m*rder*d? I remind you, you are under oath.

No.

No? No.

I don't believe we did.

You find a man who has been m*rder*d, you race down here to share that information, enter a proceeding to do so, and you neglect to use the word 'm*rder*d'? I didn't think it was necessary.

It was implied.

You IMPLIED that James Harper had been m*rder*d? Yes.

But that's what we do.

Just about every death we're involved in is m*rder.

I thought Mr Thorne would know what I meant.

I was wrong.

He's obviously not as smart as he lets on.

So I suppose it's my mistake.

It's habit.

You just assume someone can tell what you're really saying without having to use the word.

Really? I wonder if you can tell what I'm really saying right now.

I have listened to the evidence given by both the Crown and the defence, and on balance I'm inclined to favour two serving police officers and an officer of the court over a convicted criminal.

I can see no evidence that an abuse of process occurred.

I'm going to allow the prosecution of Frank Donovan for the m*rder of James Harper.

The court will rise.

Got it all sewn up neatly.

Your client's a m*rder*r, Miriam.

He also deserved a fair trial.

Something you tried to avoid.

You sandbagged me.

I'll live with that.

Jake.

Thank you.

I could've got fired because of what I did there.

Frank Donovan'll get life because of what you did there.

Strictly speaking, it wasn't perjury.

We both know what that was.

You did the right thing.

What, the ends justify the means? Sometimes.

The trick is knowing when.

Yeah.

The trick is knowing when.

Not as smart as I let on? Yeah.

I quite enjoyed that.