- Amo, amas, amat? - It's Latin. "I love, you love, he loves."
The alpha beta stuff?
You learn all that crap at 11. It never leaves you. Same with the catechism.
He's a Catholic grammar-school boy, same as me. God help him.
It's not a bank or national insurance number. We're still checking out phone numbers.
2-1-1-9-0-2. Any ideas?
Childhood.
Army number?
Army, Navy and RAF. Get onto them.
- Go public - No.
- An appeal from the grieving mother. - No.
Go publicwith "Does anybody recognise him?"
Are you serious? The ID evidence wouldn't be worth a carrot.
You wouldn't need it. Prove to him he did it, and he'll confess.
- You believe that? - Yes.
Then you're a pillock.
- I think he might be innocent. - What?
You didn't even consider that.
You've got a suspect, so you're concentrating on proving he did it.
You could prove he didn't do it, but then what? Classic policing error!
Piss off back to your clinicl
He's never worn a watch.
You ask him the time, he doesn't look like that. He looks at the wall.
I noticed it when I met him.
Three weeks of glorious sunshine and no white mark on his wrist.
So?
The Sweeney takes trains all the time! People who take trains weara watch.
And that's it? That proves he's innoceht?
It proves that he could be.
Go back to your clinic, Fitz.
2-1-1-9-0-2... a number from childhood?
Yeah.
4-3-9-6-2-1. My mum's Co-op number.
4-4-6-6-2-1.
Check the Co-op records. And find the parents!
That's a wonderful idea.
Just through here, then.
- Morning, gentlemen. - Morning.
Rudy. Thank you.
- She's beautiful, isn't she? - She was.
Is.
The wounds look impressive, but this is the one that killed her.
Atypical razor wound. Neat.
I'll show you what it did.
There's a bonus to this job, I keep telling my mother. A belief in God.
Bacteria toiling away in their own little organs...
with no idea of the body as a whole.
For them...
...only the heart exists
or the liver, or the spleen.
The organs themselves,
throbbing away...
convinced that this body they are in is the entire universe.
Andthen one day, a knife, a cut...
and they see with blinding light the world outside the body.
Bin. Thank you.
He's gone right through the trachea and the cartilage.
Totally severed the carotid artery. Death in seconds.
He's done it from behind, cutting from left to right, so he's right-handed.
Wounds to the breasts. Some are from behind. She must have been alive at the time.
Alive and standing.
See the damage to the hands?
She's put them up to protect herself and he's hacked away at them.
Then there's the body, the way it's put together. The intricacy, the genius.
No accident this. It's the work of an Almighty God.
- No? - No.
She was dead when he shaved her pubic hair.
Not so much as a nick.
Tender loving care.
Two blades.
- We're trying to trace a man named Kelly. - Why?
Just routine.
- Thomas. He disappeared. - When was this?
Oh, years ago. The Seventies.
That could be him, yeah.
- Do you know where he weht? - I could guess!
- Holland, then Rome. - So they said.
Take no notice of her. She thinks the worst of everybody.
- He went to be a priest. - He got put away. That's what happened.
He did not get put away, you evil-minded...
- Ask anyone. He had a slate loose. - He was a bit of a Ioner, eccentric
He was round the bloody twist!
After he went they never talked about him, never even mentioned him once.
You don't act that way If your son's gone to be a priest.
Who asked you to stick your oar in, you nosy cow?
You wouldn't be talking like this If they were alive!
Just keep your evil mouth shut! OK?
Does it mean anything to you?
d And preach thee, too, as love knows how
d By kindly words and...
Is this familiar to you?
Yeah.
d... faith of our fathers, holy faith
d We will be true to thee till death
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, amen.
Tha grace of our Lord Jesus...
What is it?
It's in English.
It's been in English forover 20 years.
...to celebrate the sacred mysteries, let us call to mind our sins.
I confess to Almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters...
We've heard from the seminary in Rome.
Thomas Francis Kelly went there in 1974 and left in 1976.
"Doubts about his mental stability."
Tha problem is, there's no national insurance number for a Thomas Francis Kelly,
there is no police record, he's never owned a vehicle
and, as far as we can tell, he's never been in a mental institution.
Has anyone actually identified the suspect as Thomas Francis Kelly?
- No, sir. - Well?
We haven't got enough to charge him, and we can't hold him,
but he has agreed to go into Fitz's care voluntarily.
- Anything else? - Yes.
It's asking a lot, I know.
But i'd like you to make a televised appeal for information.
I'll do it.
- I'd like you both to do it, if possible. - She's not up to it.
That's the point.
Isn't it?
I'll do it.
If I can bury my daughter.
There are certain legal difficulties...
I don't care about that.
I can only take one step at a time.
The flrst step is to bury my child.
You need permission from the coroner.
The accused has a right to an indipendent postmortem.
You mean, I've got to ask his permission?
Yes.
Get Mrs Appleby a glass of water, will you?
This is a copy of the Mental Health Act. I suggest you read it.
Don't take it out on us!
What?
Your boss treats you like a skivvy. Don't take it out on us.
- I need directions. - About here's flne.
- Where are you going? - The dogs.
- How many brothers have you got? - This man was released into your care...
He was not. He placed himself in my care voluntarily.
I'd say four. Am I right?
Three. You're not going in there!
No other sisters, though. You're the only girl, right?
You'll lose him. First chance he gets, he'll do a bunk.
I'll take that chance. But you are the only girl. Am I right?
- Right. - That explains everything.
What? What does it explain?
The chip on the shoulder.
Constant need to assert yourself.
Penis envy.
The boys outside playing football and you're indoors ironing.
Resentful, angry. A classiccase. Penis envy.
Freud. Clement, not Sigmund.
Bye!
Trap 2-Mal Boy
Firecracker. Trap 4...
Come on! Come on, numberthree!
No, no, he's on the inside!
Come on, you bugger!
He's coming up on the outside! Fantastic! Come on, you lazy thing! Move it!
Yes! Get up there, you bugger!
Jesus flaming Christ!
Please, please stop! I know you!
Please! Please!
I won't hurt youl
Please!
Who am I?
DCI Bilborough, please. Quick, yeah.
It's Fitz. Fitz!
The police would like any information, no matter how trivial you think it is.
Do you know anybody who was away from home on the day Patricia Garth was murdered?
Monday May 3rd,
and the day my daughter was murdered, Tuesday June 8th?
Have you everfelt threatened by a man in a railway station or on a train?
If so, please phone 061-8354567.
This man's clothing must have been heavily bloodstained.
Both Patricia and my daughter put up a fight, so it could have been torn, too.
Does that mean anything to anybody?
Monday May 3rd and Tuesday June 8th.
A man with torn, bloodstained clothing.
If so, please,
please contact the police.
This man could be highly dangerous
Finally, do you know this man? Police are anxious to trace his whereabouts.
It's possible he's known as Thomas Francis Kelly.
Police think he comes from the Northwest. He has spent some time abroad.
For 1 or 15 years, he's lived in the South of England...
- Good night. - Good night.
...phone 061-8354567...
Good night.
We'll give you that number again in an update following the news.
As always, a reminder that violent crime really is a rare occurrence.
Tha chance of becoming involved in the type of crime we've...
TV: Please, sleep well, don't have nightmares.
- How many calls so far? - Calls or leads?
- Leads. - 63.
I reckon on 100 by the end of the night.
Yes, madam.
Could you hold the line a second, please, madam?
Trace. Trace line 48, please.
I've got his wife on the line.
That was nice and quick.
Only 35 people in the queue!
Want one?
No, thank you.
- Why do you drink so much? - I like it.
And smoke so much?
I like it.
- And you gamble, as well. - Yes. I like it!
What is it, this sadness, this void in your life?
I'm sorry, I'm sorry. "This void in my life"?
In my life?
When I meet my wife, mine will be fulfilled.
You really think that, do you?
Cherryhill Farm.
That's what they said.
Mean anything to you?
I'll remember it when I get there.
How long have you been married for, did they say?
18 years,
18?
Yeah. Why? What are you thinking?
Nothing.
It is Mr Kelly, isn't it?
I'm sorry.
She saw your picture in the paper. Took a shine to you.
Women, eh?
Suppose we'd shown your face on the telly
and just come right out with it: "This man is suspected of murder."
They'd all have fallen for you, not just the one. They'd phone in their droves.
- Can I have some more? - Sure.
"Dirty Den." Mean anything to you?
East Enders?
No.
Well, I had this idea.
A soap opera and all the actors- not the characters, mind you -
all the actors are convicted murderers.
15 million viewers, all of them women, no problem.
All drooling at the mouth.
Women, eh?
I'm sure she'll come back to you.
d And you sing
d Laura
d On a train that is passing through
d Those eyes
d How familiar they seem
d She gave
d Hervery flrst kiss to you
d That was Laura...
DCI Bilborough, please.
- Who's speaking? - I can't give you my name.
One moment, please.
Soryy, sir, DCI Bilborough's busy at the moment Would you like someone else?
- I know who Sweeney is. - Just a moment, please, sir.
Bilborough.
- He gave a false statemeht? - Yes, boss.
- Well, go round again, embarrass him a bit. - Right.
I'm sorry.
I'm a Catholic priest. This has got to be confidential.
Of course, sir.
Two months ago, a man came to me and confessed to the murder of Astrid Reynolds.
Who was this man, sir?
I'm no crank. I don't know his name, but I'm looking at his picture in the paper.
Which paper, sir?
Evening News, page four, a middle-aged man, a missing person.
You're sure about this, sir?
It's got to be confidential. I heard all this in confession.
Where is Astrid now, sir?
- Promise me it's confidential. - It's confidential.
At the bottom of Clayton Wharf.
You say you knew about this two months ago?
Yes.
It's local.
I'm putting the phone down.
I've promised you confidentiality. Why did you wait this long?
- Are you a Catholic? - No, sir.
Then you wouldn't understand.
You explain, I'll try to understand.
He's killed again, hasn't he? In the same way.
Possibly, yes.
- God forgive me. - Platform 14...
Platform 14.
Platform 14, the 16:39 service to Blackburn.
Over here!
- What do you think? - Female. 20, 25.
- Been dead about two months. - Sweeney?
Probably. I'll tell you more tomorrow.
Let the parents know we've found a body. Take Penhaligon with you.
Get roundto Fitz's. Bring that bastard in.
When's it gonna be ready?
Well?
They asked me to kill the chicken.
I put a sack over it.
- Who's "they"? - It was struggling.
Who's "they"?
I don't know.
I brought the axe down through its neck, through the sack.
It twitched.
Pulsed.
With every pulse, the stain spread.
Blood.
I held it down, dying, pulsing, throbbing.
It's the police.
Will you tell them?
It'll be better for them lfit comes from you.
Mr Reynolds? DS Penhaligon, DS Beck from Anson Road police station.
May we come in, please?
Thanks.
I'm terribly sorry, we have bad news.
We found a body and we think it's yourdaughter.
I'm sorry.
- Hello. - Stand up.
I've reason to believe you're concealing drugs on your person. May I have them, please?
If you confess to a more serious matter, I probably won't bother looking forthem.
You twisted pervert!
Do you understand what I'm saying?
I'm not being too subtle, am I?
I must see him again!
I'm sorry, Fitz. You're wrong about him.
You've been wrong all the way. You're out.
I'll scream.
I'm not after your body, Panhandle.
I want a list of suspects, 35 to 45, who are single and Catholic
I want a car. I want you as my driver, because I need your ID.
- Five, four, three... - You're on it anywayl You'll catch the killer!
You'll get brownie points!
Argh!
- Aaaah! - Your boss is wrong.
I know he's wrong, you know he's wrong. Please do this for me.
- Aaaah! - I'll repay you. I will repay you.
I need...
Please, I need this.
Why?
Just testing.
Multiple orgasms.
He's killed again, hasn't he? In the same way.
Possibly, yes.
God forgive me.
So?
Are you a Catholic?
I think so.
Do you think a priest would lie?
Could you answer rather than shake your head? Do you think a priest would lie?
No.
Than you did it You killed those girls.
Could you answer rather than nod your head?
You killed those girls.
It appears so.
You kill her, she's reported missing. Nobody knows she's dead except you.
You get a buzz out of that. But that buzz wears off.
You want her found, you want it all over the papers.
Next time you leave her where she drops. Third time, an even bigger buzz.
You do it on a moving train, people all around.
What next?
How do you top that?
Do it on stage, sell tickets?
I want to confess.
We're listening.
To a priest.
No.
I wanted you to find another body.
I wanted to prove to myself, to you as well, but mainly to myself,
that I couldn't have done these things.
If another girl died and you were watching me...
you'd know I couldn't possibly have done these things.
And that would be it, the proof needed.
And then I reali sed what I was praying for,
for another human being to die.
So I could be at peace.
And now it's happened.
And another family...
And it proves nothing.
5.18... five furlongs at Lingfield.
Midsummer Blue.
What's this?
It's a bet. Or have I walked into the butcher's by mistake?
I'm not taking this.
- What? - L200 after the off. What is this?
- It's nothingl - It's not on.
- You've taken more. What is this? - Not after the off!
It's a flve-furlong racel
Call your self a bookie and you turn back a lousy L200
I will take anything, if you just give me a bit oftime. That's all I ask, a bit oftime.
That's life.
Well, thank you, Esther!
What we'll do fit's touch and go on who's flrst, then we'll bung you a flve reach.
Otherwise, I can't afford it.
Hold on.
Mum's been.
I can still smell the sulphur.
There's a copper here to see you.
Right, so that's what we'll do.
You've got me for one week.
I had pleurisy once. For two.
Drink?
No.
- Why did you change your mind? - A woman's privilege.
Oh!
Right, no sex. Strictly platonic
Keep your hands to yourself. It's gonna be hard; there's nothing I can do. OK?
Just hands off!
I'll try.
- I thought he was off the case. - You thought wrong.
- If the boss flnds out... - I'll carry the can, OK?
In there.
- Hello. - Hello.
You did it.
I won't bore you with the details.
Sufflce to say, the killer is Catholic, late 30s, single and clean-shaven.
How do I know he's clean-shaven?
He shaves himself with the razor he's just used on his victim.
Look at her.
Look at her!
What do you see? A victim?
Some women out there just ask for it. She's one of them. A victim. Am I right?
Please stop this.
You can read her like a book.
The childhood, the petit bourgeois parents in an area they couldn't afford.
Few friends except other girls who couldn't make friends.
Huddled together for comfort, bitchy, bitter...
Please stop this!
Sitting with her rejects, watching the others.
They always seemed to have more fun. They didn't seem to feel the cold.
They got offered parts in the school play. She didn't.
They got the boys. She didn't, except for that one night.
That first time.
The girl he really fancied wasn't there, but he thought he'd make do,
tried to slope off quickly, didn't want to be seen.
Was it behind the bike sheds?
A knee-trembler up some alley, perhaps? Over in seconds, cold, unsatisfying.
Straight home into a hot bath,
but, oh, the next day, the looks, the sniggers, the remarks.
Everybody knew, the whole school knew!
That's what life's like if you're a bloody victim, isn't it?
Ah. Big mistake.
That's just what you were looking for. A sign of vulnerability.
You'll strike now. You'll kill now, won't you? Huh?
Stop this.
It's your mission in life, women like that. Acting tough, in control, treating you like dirtl
You'll show he rwhat's what, won't you?
You'll put her in her placel
You can read her like a book. She's not tough! You'll put her in herplace for keeps!
Stop this!
You're a killer.
Your picture's been in the newspapers, on TV. Nobody's identified you.
You're nearly 40 years old and nobody knows you.
Is that credible? I think notl
There's only one explanation why people haven't come forward.
You are a killer and they know it. They're terrified to come forward!
You kill, but you don'trape.
You can't rape, so you kill. For you, that's penetration.
Sex is disgusting, women are disgusting. Better to kill than to penetrate.
More moral to kill than to penetrate. You want to kill now, don't you?
I know what's going on in there!
You want to kill, kill, kill, kill!
He told me that he'd only ever loved two women, his mother and the Virgin Mary.
He... seemed calm.
I asked him, did he want a cup of tea.
Whan I got back, he'd gone.
Anything else?
I didn't do it.
I know.
But I know.
I know now.
- Married? - Single.
- Ahything else? - Catholic
Two, travelling on business. Michael Hennessy, Peter Fredrickson.
I had to do that.
I had to do it!
If he didn't do it, how do you explain the phone call from the priest?
It wasn't a priest. He broke the seal of the confession.
That's Number 1 in the top 20 of sins, above buggering the Pope.
He's our killer. He knew Astrid Reynolds was in the canal because he put hertherel
Why?
He thought Kelly was dead, shoved from a train doing 60,
then suddenly he was alive, his picture in the paper.
- Would you slow down, please? - Frightened?
- Yes. - Big mistake.
Never admit you're frightened.
- Tell me more. - He's not married.
This is no Yorkshire Ripperchasing prostitutes. This guy idolises women.
Statues, sculptures, Venus de Milo, Virgin Mary, that sort ofthing.
White, hairless and smooth, hairless being the most important.
Pubic hairshatters all this, so he shaves them.
If you don't slow down, I'll grab the wheel.
There are men who are victims, Fitz, and you're one ofthem. Right?
Why the hair?
At school he was probably either the flrst or the last to grow it himself.
I would guess the flrst. This is where his neurosis comes from.
He saw it grow in himself and not in others and thought it was God's punishment.
If I'm right, he was born in August or September, so he's the oldest...
OK, can we stop now, please?
Mr Hennessy.
- Mr Michael Hennessy? - John. Michael's my son.
- Could we speak to him, please? - He's out.
- Police. May we come in? - No.
We're investigating a murder. May we come in?
Right.
- About that girl on the train, is it? - Yes.
Michael made a statement.
This is just routine.
Had a bit of a late night.
- Where is Michael? - He's at work.
What does your son do?
He's a health inspector. He goes round hotels and he rates them, good, bad, indifferent.
- Travels around a lot? - Oh, yeahl
- Do you want some tea? - No, thanks.
No, thanks.
Promiscuous.
- What? - Five across.
Oh! I don't do 'em.
- Michael's, is it? - Yeah.
- Want a drink? - Don't mind if I do.
- How about her? - I doubt it.
Erm...
'Ere, want a drink?
No, thanks. Your wife's not in?
My wife died a year ago.
I'm sorry.
Do you know where Michael was on Monday, May 3rd?
I don't know where I was on May 3rdl
I don't know where I was last night!
It was the night Patricia Garth was murdered at Oxenholme station. Do you remember that?
No.
They thought they'd have to pull the match.
United against Spurs. It was live on telly.
Right. Yes.
- Did you watch it? - Yeah.
Well, that's all we need to know.
- Is that Michael and his mother? - Yeah.
- You don't go out much since... - No.
Can I use your bathroom?
It's upstairs, yeah.
Cut-throat razors and a phoney alibi.
Phoney?
Claims he saw the game live. He couldn't have. He's not got a satellite dish.
He's catching the 15:20 to Leeds.
15:20? What's that, pre-decimal?
- Control to Oscar Three. - Oscar Three receiving.
What the hell are you playing at?
Fitz is off the case. You let a member of the public interview a murder suspect! Over.
You've already spoken to the murderer, you prick!
The guy who phoned you was the murderer! Think it over.
Over.
Sergeant Penhaligon, I want you back here right now!
Can hardly hear a word, sir. Fault on the radio.
I'm on my way to intercept the 15:20 Manchester to Leeds train. Request assistance.
You'll neverget into the Masons now.
British Raill
- Pardon? - Ten minutes late!
Would you like a sherbet lemon?
No.
I'm too tired, I'm too tired.
I'm too tired.
I'm too tired. I'm too tired, I'm too tired.
I'm too tired, I'm too tired.
That is so oh... that is so oh...
That is so oh... that is so oh... that is so oh...
Yes, yes, yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes.
Yes, yes, yes.
Yes, yes, yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes.
Oh, yes, yes, yes.
Bingo!
It's OK. You're OK!
You are Lobby Lud, and I claim the reward!
- There's a train coming! - What?
I can't hear you, a train's coming!
It's on this line!
Let go of me, you maniac!
All the way with LBJI
What's the matter?
These two guys will look after you. Just take a statement.
Look after her, make sure she's all right.
- Well done. - Thanks.
You didn't even know your parents were dead?
No.
The Falklands, the Gulf, the Berlin Wall, Gazza's belly, all means nothing to you?
You should have stayed in your ivory tower.
Ifl'd have acted differently, she'd still be alive.
That's what you're thinking.
Why are you going back?
I had doubts about my vocation.
I left the monastery to see the world outside.
I've seen it now. And you can keep it
Can we stop here, please?
- Bye. - Bye-bye.
If you wanted to get yourself banged up for life, do a bank job. Do something to deserve it.
I belong in here.
I'll pray for you, Fitz.
Fancy a quick one? I'm talking alcohol, not sex
You must be bloody joking.
- Do you get much? - Tell me about your wife.
- Ever cop off uniform? - What made her leave you?
Know why a uniform turns a woman on? It reeks of death, the finest aphrodisiac.
What made her leave you? Gambling? Drink?
Tha fact that you're an arrogant, misogynistic slob?
Flatterer!
There's a pub on the right
- Take a right - No! Why did she leave?
- Just turn right, will you? - No. Why did she leave?