What are you doing?
I'm using the power of coffee and tequila
to make George Clooney walk through that door.
Yeah... I think he's got other plans.
Maise, what was that?
The locals are invading.
Right.
I feel sick.
Lizzie!
Hello?
Lizzie?
Lizzie! Lizzie!
Lizzie!
No, no, no, no. Lizzie?
Lizzie!
Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.
It was just a... weekend, you know? A girls' weekend.
Just the three of us, the middle of nowhere.
It was Lizzie's treat.
Hm. That's very generous.
It's how she was.
When did you arrive? Yesterday.
And you say you heard gunshots last night?
Yeah. Coming from across the field, I think.
What was going on, do you know? No. No.
Did she have any boyfriends at the moment?
But you were close?
She was me best friend.
Could I get a glass of water? Yeah, sure.
Don't mind my asking, but...
how could she afford all this on a physio's salary?
Ah, um, this weekend... it was a present.
From one of the patients she was helping for back pain.
Whiplash.
Very nice. Was that typical?
For Lizzie.
She was one of those people...
You just want to open up to her, you know?
Do you have a name for this patient?
Ah... Corinne... Somebody. Corinne?
We'll have it at work. Yeah. Thanks, though.
What will I do without her?
Billy?
There's a shotgun cartridge full in the chest.
No open coffin for you, pet.
Time of death? Half one to two am.
I might pare that down a bit back at the ranch.
What's this?
Well, it's a nice little bolt hole, this.
Thought I might scan the literature.
Hey!
Okay, so how are they doing with the house-to-house?
A young family in the house there think they heard gunshots.
Kid thought it was fireworks, dad thought it was a car backfiring.
Any idea when? 1:38 was the last one.
The dad was in bed, he saw the clock.
There's our time of death. They didn't see anything?
Not a chance. Look.
"All units individually designed to guarantee..."
"...the peaceful privacy of guests." They might want to rethink that.
This used to be wetlands, as far as the eye can see.
Sir?
I've a right to be here. I own these properties.
If there's a problem... DCI Stanhope.
Step over here, Mr. I'm fine where I am.
Just wait, love. Get back in the car.
Has somebody been hurt? Aye, a young woman.
This house?
And you are...?
Tim Hopkins. Is she Okay?
She was shot dead, sir.
Right.
So um... w-what happens now?
We'll need to take care of this, I have to let people know.
That's all in hand. Her friends were with her.
Her friends? And her husband?
Not married.
Oh, right.
I'm sorry.
It takes a minute. My wife just picked me up off the train.
There are reports that there were gunshots in these fields last night.
I'd hope not.
Local thugs, I expect, Saturday night.
I can't believe it'd run to all this.
Do you have a card?
Contact details?
Might need to talk to you later. Of course.
Thanks.
Joe. Come on, sir, this way.
Let's go.
Bloody lampers.
Sorry, who or what are lampers?
Oh, Kenny, kindly inform our guest from the city.
The folk that go about by the light of the moon.
Plus torches, headlamps, shooting nocturnal creatures. Pests.
What have badgers ever done to anyone?
They get TB, they pass it on to cattle.
Allegedly.
Now we're going to need a full search of that field.
See if we can get a ballistics match between the lamper's shotgun
and the weapon that killed our victim.
Ask in the village. Someone local's got to be organising shooting sprees.
Ask in the farms, shops, local pubs.
And Kenny?
Pay for your own drinks.
Sir!
Robert Doran?
Aye, who wants him?
This is DCI Stanhope, I'm DC...
Look, I've got to be at the quayside in half an hour.
Very dapper.
Hot date?
An online thing.
Put her on ice, Mr. Doran.
Search warrant for the premises.
Excuse me, sir. Kenny?
Robert Doran, you do not have to say anything.
It may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned...
Come on, then, open up.
Robert Doran. He's got form.
He went down for...
GBH, eight years back. If you say so.
Listen, mind if I sit this one out?
Suit yourself.
So last night, early hours of this morning,
you were...?
Hm?
We have evidence puts you in the field up near that new development.
Evidence? Ah, I hoped you'd bring that up.
Cigarette butts were recovered from the field.
Now, thanks to your previous conviction...
Yeah, you've got my DNA. Right.
Imperial Rolled tobacco.
Ee, you have my sympathy.
Hard times if you're smoking those.
I could've been there any time.
I was there two weeks ago.
We've seized the shotgun held under license to your pal Jackson Fisher
smothered in your prints. Any chance of a coffee?
The gun you fired into some poor defenceless little beast...
'Aw.' ...we found that and all,
and with your tyre prints all over the field, like figures of eight...
Okay. Thank you.
Is this a regular thing, this lamping?
You may not like it.
People don't complain.
They thank me. Oh.
And those weekenders down at Meadow Pond, up for a bit of fresh air?
I'm no bother to anybody.
Anybody with you last night?
I was on my own.
Ah, that's a pity.
Cos this young woman was also killed with a shotgun,
600 yards from the badger.
Do you know her?
How would I know her?
Sorry, what's my client being charged with?
Use of a weapon? Or... That's up to him.
There were other people with you last night.
Aye. Names.
Did you see anything, hear anything, while you were in that field?
A car, maybe. Right, colour, make of vehicle.
Sorry, I dunno. Some mechanic you are!
If you saw - I didn't see it!
I might have heard a car.
Might have? Aye.
Driving up the lane.
So what? It could've been any one of the other guests.
Any tyre prints we can't account for?
Too many. They use the lane as a cut-through down to the coast.
See my point? Some car? Could've been anyone.
Okay, ballistics.
Was Lizzie murdered with the same shotgun?
Different cartridges.
But it's feasible it could've been fired from the same gun.
Or Doran's got a second gun stashed away that we don't know about.
We'll get a report by lunchtime.
Ah! PC Mark Edwards.
Detective Constable.
Ah, well, welcome to CID.
So what's the word on Doran's two comrades-in-arms?
The two brothers.
Come on, Jim and Jackson Fisher. Right.
Confirmed Doran's story.
The brothers went shooting with him Saturday night. Okay.
But they left Doran in the field with the gun,
which I told them was against the terms of the license.
Doran then returned the gun to them a couple of hours later that night.
What time? Sorry?
What time did they leave him in the field with the gun? Oh. Um...
Uh... just shy of 1:30 Sunday morning.
So... ten minutes before our time of death.
Which is very convenient for the brothers.
No, they've got an alibi.
They stopped for petrol at 1:41, at Junction.
Good work, Detective Constable.
Ta, thanks very much.
So we have Robert Doran on his own, in the field, gun in hand.
It's him. He fits the profile,
he's got the form. But why?
What reason would he possibly have for shooting a woman he's never met?
So. Robert Doran.
Hey, don't start.
What? I'm just making conversation.
I've been in how many interviews with you? I know how this works.
Oh! Go on, I'm all ears.
Never give up too much information,
never speak so loud you forget to listen,
and never ask a question you don't already... know the answer to.
Okay.
So go on, then. What do you know about me and Doran?
Joe Ashworth, still wet behind the ears...
When was this? Eight years ago.
Closing time, two fellas outside a pub in South Shields.
In the blue corner, fractured skull.
In the red corner, Robert Doran, hardly a scratch on him.
You talk to the landlord, the wives, the girlfriends.
In the end you've only got their word for it. So you go with what you see.
He went down for 18 months.
Jury convicts, not some DC. Yeah, I know that.
But he sent me this letter. You did nothing wrong.
Hey, I'm Catholic, born and bred. You work it out.
Hm, hm.
You still got it, this precious letter?
Yeah.
Can I see it? Nope.
He broke that man's skull.
No use blaming yourself, is there?
Where are we off to? Corinne Franks,
see if she can tell us any more about Lizzie.
Andrew Franks?
Such a Godawful waste.
It's hit her quite hard. Corinne!
Down in a bit.
I mean, I never met her myself,
but I know Corinne thought the world of her.
Lizzie helped your wife with her back, is that right?
Oh, yeah, big time.
It's nuts. This poor dead girl. Mm.
It makes you feel a little responsible.
Why, because your wife gave her the weekend as a present?
No... Well, that as well.
No, we designed all the holiday units.
What, you were the architect of...? Meadow Ponds, yeah.
All our fault, I'm afraid.
Well, right...
Well done.
What's this?
Nothing, it's mine.
Corinne, this is er... DCI Stanhope. DS Ashworth.
Er... it's a cathedral. Well, it's meant to be.
We were students at the time. Castles in the air.
They let you dream back then.
Oh, I don't know. I don't know why I hang on to it.
It's a little reminder, isn't it?
Why we got into it in the first place. Uh, right.
You knew Lizzie well?
Oh, not well.
But I liked her.
She never talked about man problems or...
this fella?
Um... nope.
But she wouldn't have done. She wasn't the sort to dump on anyone.
I, I just...
can't see how anyone would want to hurt her.
Not... Not Lizzie, not deliberately.
Was it quick?
I mean, um... No, I know what you mean.
She died instantly.
You're not just saying that? No.
You have my word.
Kenny? 'Ma'am, we've got him.
'Robert Doran and the victim.
'There is a connection.
I'd like another word, please.
Robert? Not him.
Alright, wait in the car. I won't be long.
So, how's the world of online dating, hm?
"GBH seeks GSOH."
And maybe a bit of washing-up.
Don't touch that, please.
You and Lizzie were at school together.
Bickmore Comp. She was in the year below you.
Well, if I was, I never knew her.
Hm.
Look, are you done? I need to get off to work.
Do you know what? I've been up half the night, wracking my brains.
The smell in this place. Odour, I should say.
Once savoured, never forgotten.
Oh aye, and what's that?
Trichloroethylene, pet.
Used to strip meat from small mammals.
What are you after?
I grew up round a smell like that, on account of me dad.
He had more than a passing interest in birds of prey.
Ooh, it got right into your pores.
Put paid to my love life, I tell you that.
See, even if no one else could smell it, I could.
And your hands - scrub, scrub.
"Out, damn'd spot."
- If your online lasses get a whiff. - Alright.
So what are you? Birds, mice?
Take a look.
Sell them to art colleges when I can.
Still lives and that.
Lizzie.
I've not seen her in years.
She was Beth back then.
She was not pretty, like in this.
Acne, big braces, thick glasses.
I was a bully. Mm.
I was the worst of the lot.
But I wouldn't have touched Lizzie.
She had a way of... I dunno.
People were always around her, always talking to her.
Well, if I knew what I was looking for...
Ah, no enemies, never a crossed word, couldn't meet a nicer woman.
We get that a lot, don't we? It's only good manners.
Don't speak ill of the dead.
But this woman, this Lizzie...
I mean, even your new friend Robert speaks well of her.
What do you see?
Motion-detector lights. Mm.
Not working.
Right, door opens, Lizzie steps out...
Well, he couldn't see her.
What if he thought she was someone else?
Call Kenny.
Get him to round up the two lasses who were with her that night.
Maisie, was it? Maisie Jones and Tina Robson.
Aye, if one of them was the target...
He's killed once, he could try it again.
What about Doran? No change. Surveillance.
Hello?
Just wait somewhere public.
No, I'll come and collect you.
There's a pub across the way, the Ship Inn. Shall I...
'Yeah, I know it. Wait for me there.
Yeah?
Okay, that's great.
Cheers, thanks.
Tina's at home in her flat. Uniform's with her.
And the other one, Maisie?
Kenny's on his way over. Good.
Yeah, good.
They weren't meant to be there.
Lizzie, Maisie, Tina.
The cottage was a treat. It was booked in that couple's name.
The Franks, the architects. Want me to give them a call?
I want you to get over there!
Billy said she was hit at speed.
So the vehicle comes down the road at speed,
mounts the pavement at speed,
hits at speed...
and drives on.
A joy rider, stolen car?
Well, look at the road.
Yeah, there's no skid marks and brake.
The street lights were all working.
They could have seen they were heading straight for her.
Even a joy rider's gonna start pumping the brakes at that point.
Alright, so not a joy rider. I think she was targeted.
And not Robert Doran. He was playing pool all night.
Surveillance watched him the whole time.
Right.
So who, then?
The husband? Andrew Franks? Where's the motive?
Kenny said he was in bits when he spoke to him.
He nearly lost his wife ten months ago in that car crash.
Now he's lost her for real.
Anyway, he gave a statement and the alibi checks out.
Is he still there at the Franks', Kenny?
I think so. Why?
Ma'am.
Will do.
Mr. Franks, we just need to check something.
Your wife's car accident last year.
Was anyone injured other than herself?
It wasn't Corinne's fault.
The other driver came out of nowhere.
The coroner said so.
Maggie Bishop, 43.
Nine months ago, missed a give-way sign,
shot out of a junction straight into Corinne Franks' car.
The coroner ruled accidental death, but said.
Mrs. Bishop's failure to give way was a major contributing factor.
God, would you look at that? Wafer-thin bloody nonsense.
Shave a pig, call it ham?
It ought to be an of fence.
The husband was gonna challenge the coroner's decision.
Yeah, I was coming to that.
Ever since the inquest into his wife's death,
he's been knocking on doors, chief coroner's included,
trying to get the original findings reviewed.
What does he think happened? That's what I'm going to ask him.
DCI Stanhope, Northumberland and City Police. Mind if we come in?
Thanks.
If it's trespassing or climbing, they'll have a job proving it.
Sorry?
Those gorillas the council farm out their security to.
The ones who escort me out of the council offices
everytime I ask a question no one wants to answer.
I trust it was them who sent you.
Nobody sent me, pet. Perk of the rank. Nobody would dare.
No, we just wanted to, ah, talk... about the accident.
Talk?
Yeah, you know, find out what happened.
You wanna know what happened to my wife?
This.
Well, I'm not sure what I'm looking at.
No. That's the point. Nor was she.
The approach to the junction where Maggie was killed.
The same junction after the council finally cut back the greenery.
Look at that.
Look at that and tell me the crash was Maggie's fault.
But the coroner said accidental death.
He said accidental death for which my wife was to blame.
What about the other driver?
What about her?
The coroner didn't think she'd done anything wrong.
Do you?
Dad, can you give us a hand, please?
Police. About the accident.
I'll give you a call when tea's ready.
My wife was a cleaner at the hospital.
Corinne Franks was an architect.
Professional class, like the council lawyers,
like the courts, like the coroner.
If she had done anything wrong, I doubt we'd know about it.
The professional class looks after its own.
Mr. Bishop, where were you last night between 9 and 11pm?
Out. Why?
Out where?
Out with friends, drinks after work?
I went for a walk. It helps me sleep.
What my sergeant's asking is,
is there anyone who can confirm your whereabouts?
An alibi? You're asking me if I've got an alibi?
Well, have you?
No. Why, who's dead?
Corinne Franks.
No alibi.
- He certainly has a motive. - An eye for an eye.
It'd be quicker to list people he doesn't blame for his wife's death.
But there's no hard evidence to link him
to the deaths of either Corinne Franks or Lizzie Faulkner.
Maybe there is something in this paperwork of his.
Oh, pff... No, seriously.
I looked at it. He keeps details of everything,
every meeting, conversation, medical records...
What must it be like to be his son?
He's just lost one parent,
and he has to watch the other one turn into an obsessive.
Still, look on the bright side.
We've got a new suspect.
You won't have to see Robert Doran any more.
A couple of beers and an opening like that,
it's all going to come spilling out? What?
It's a wonder you ever got anything out of anyone.
I'm just saying, get it out in the open, talk.
It might help.
Cos that's what you would do, isn't it, share?
I might!
Listen, I'd better go.
Thanks for the drinks.
What we don't have
is anything to put Justin Bishop in contact with Corinne Franks.
And as there's insufficient grounds for a warrant to search his place,
we're gonna start looking at the other end. Hm?
Now, Joe, Corinne Franks' computer.
Emails, files, anything to, from or even mentioning Justin Bishop.
Kenny... Not the phone records.
Phone records, mobile.
Gary, Fran, landline. There's two, home and work.
Anyone wants me, I'm with Andrew Franks.
Call if anything turns up.
I know she's dead.
I do know that.
I just can't seem to make it stick.
I keep turning round to tell her what's happened.
Mr. Franks, is there any reason you can think of
why anyone would have wanted to harm your wife?
I told your colleague. No. No.
But when Lizzie Faulkner was killed, she was where Corinne should've been.
We didn't even book the cottage.
We won it in a raffle. It was a champagne weekend.
That was a bit of a busman's holiday, seeing as you designed them.
Is that why you passed on it?
I wanted to keep it.
The accident was awful for Corinne,
I think even more than I realised.
And Lizzie had helped make it better.
After the accident,
did Corinne have any contact with Maggie Bishop's family?
Yeah, she went to meet them.
I thought it was a bad idea, but she felt compelled,
thought it might help. And did it?
I think it was difficult for all of them.
There was a son - not a little boy, but still.
Corinne found it hard, him having lost his mother.
She met them just the once?
Like I said, it was difficult for all of them.
But she'd have told you? She wouldn't have held back
for fear or worrying you?
Corinne and I, we were a friendship long before we were a romance.
We talked.
We're a good partnership.
We were good.
Joe... Joe, take a look at this.
You never told me you'd met Corinne Franks.
You didn't ask.
She wanted to make herself feel better,
visiting the poor and afflicted.
Did you have any further contact with her after that visit?
Why would I want to? Mr. Bishop,
this is a murder investigation. If I have to keep repeating myself,
we can finish this little chat down at the station.
No, I never had any further contact with her again.
Can I use your computer? No.
Not finished the campaign handouts. You'll have to wait.
I never met her again, I never spoke to her again,
I never laid eyes on her again.
Ma'am!
We got something.
Same pattern every week to ten days,
an incoming call from a number that's never appeared before.
Corinne answers. The call lasts a minute. In the next couple of days
the same number calls, several times a day. She never picks up.
Soon as she knows who it is, she stops answering.
But at some point...
a new number shows.
She doesn't recognise it, answers it...
and it all starts again.
That wily bugger's changing his phone.
Where's he buying them?
All these calls are from cheap pay-as-you-go phones,
activated for a week, then never used again.
I haven't managed to trace all the phones,
but those I have were bought within 10 miles of Justin Bishop's house.
How far does this go back?
It starts around the time of the crash that killed Maggie Bishop.
And it doesn't end until Corinne Franks is dead.
How many times did you say you met Corinne Franks?
Once.
How many times did you talk to her? Once.
The same once.
Did you ever contact her on the phone after that?
No.
Ever try? No.
Have you got a car, Mr. Bishop?
I did have.
It was stolen.
When was that? Three days ago.
I went to take Sam for a driving lesson, it had gone.
Hm. Did you report it stolen? No, I'm rolling in it, me,
wouldn't notice the loss of a car
of course I bloody reported it.
Cos a car...
did this.
She hit the bonnet and then the windscreen and then the road.
And you don't have an alibi, you were out walking...
on your own...
Mr. Bishop.
I didn't wish her harm.
Joe's confirmed the car was reported stolen.
This was found burnt out this morning.
Forensics are trying to rescue all they can
but don't hold out too much hope.
Which brings it back to us to keep on digging.
Anything that puts Justin Bishop in recent contact with Corinne Franks.
Or anything to tie him in to the murder of Lizzie Faulkner.
We still treating that as a case of mistaken identity?
Oh yes, but here's the thing. We've been assuming
that if there was contact between Corinne Franks and Justin Bishop,
it was hostile on his part.
Let's not forget that these two are linked by a traumatic event.
And that scenario can play out in all sorts of ways.
Are you serious? Mm.
Corinne Franks was a good-looking woman.
Justin Bishop is a sad wreck.
Oh, and here you are, Kenny, two marriages behind you,
which proves anything is possible.
All I'm saying is, keep an open mind.
I don't want us to miss a connection
just cos it doesn't look like we expect it to. Joe, with me.
Where are we going? Andrew Franks'.
Please tell me we're not taking this to him.
His wife and Justin Bishop? No.
Andrew Franks told me the accident was awful for Corinne...
even worse than he realised,
as if he was starting to sense maybe...
More was going on than he knew. Right.
Like what? Exactly. Like what?
My wife is dead, and you come here insinuating...
I'm not insinuating anything, Mr. Franks.
I just want you to help us find whoever did this by asking yourself,
is it possible there was something your wife wasn't sharing with you?
If she was threatened, for example? If she was, she would've told me.
I don't know what sad grubby world you live in, but it isn't my world.
And it wasn't Corinne's.
I trust you to see yourselves out.
You're right. He's scared of something he doesn't know.
Charity raffles.
Where do they get their prizes?
They're donated usually, aren't they?
How come you got involved with the hospice?
My mother spent her last months at Clarewoods.
I've been organising the raffle ever since.
Oh! That's nice.
Not really. It's just a matter of providing a prize
and chivvying or shaming other local businesses into doing the same.
But yours is the biggie, right?
The champagne weekend.
Apart from the year someone donated a chihuahua.
I don't know I'll be doing it again, though.
It seems a bit tasteless after what happened.
Mm.
Where are the winners announced?
I mean, who would know that Corinne and Andrew had won?
Anyone who was interested.
It's on the hospice website, in the local paper.
It's as much about publicity as raising money.
What did you think of Corinne and Andrew...
as a couple?
That a worse thing couldn't have happened to nicer people.
It was the kind of relationship
you look at and think, "That's how it should be done."
There was no sniping, no resentments.
No silly games.
No secrets? No.
Wasn't their style.
Poor sorry sod.
I don't know how he's gonna manage without her.
Does your boss like her milk hot or cold?
She thinks she's done well if it's not come out of a carton in chunks.
Hey, ten minutes outside.
Then you can choose an ice cream from the freezer. Yes!
Come on. Come on, you've been inside all morning.
There you go.
Come on, let's go.
Is she asking him about Corinne and Andrew?
Don't worry if you can't say.
They knew her.
We haven't told them how it happened.
Sorry.
Was she a friend?
Not really.
My job's the kids, this place.
She had her career.
But we used to talk sometimes.
Before the crash, I mean.
After that, she got...
darker.
When I heard, I first thought she'd done it herself, you know?
Deliberately.
Like throwing yourself in front of a train.
When you say darker...
Oh, before the crash she was always laughing.
Teasing Tim that he was turning the countryside into a theme park
for people who loved the views but not the smells.
And this place.
Tim's big project.
She used to call it Hopkins Towers.
She took the work, though.
I don't suppose she had much choice.
She and Andrew were struggling before Tim came along.
Is there a chance...
that she did it herself, I mean?
I'm afraid it's a murder investigation.
What sort of a world have we made for them?
There was clearly a big change after the accident
enough to make Mrs. Hopkins think
Corinne may have thrown herself in front of that car.
You think guilt, cos she was having an affair with Justin Bishop?
Maybe.
Or maybe we're just back at the start, and he was hounding her.
Either way, she came out of that car crash with the devil on her back.
Ma'am, Corinne Franks' bank records.
Ma'am, you need to look at this.
IPad, iPod dock, speakers...
She's been spending like a sailor.
She could have bought them for herself.
Designer boxer shorts, Chanel aftershave?
But here's the real goodies.
Cash withdrawals,
all made within streets of where Justin Bishop lives.
And small amounts.
Swipe card, no PIN.
All in a caff, ten minutes' walk from his house.
Right, Kenny, get over to that cafe.
I want a positive ID on both of them. Ma'am.
Let's bring him back in.
Am I under arrest, or what?
Not at present.
But I should warn you that this interview is being recorded,
and an arrest may follow.
Someone needs to tell my son where I am.
His mother drove out one day and never came home.
He worries.
Hm?
For Christ's sake don't send a uniform, or he WILL think I'm dead.
Mr. Bishop, in a previous interview,
you told me you'd had no further contact with Corinne Franks
after your initial meeting.
Do you still hold to that answer? Yes!
Gifts? Why would I have been getting gifts from Corinne Franks?
Joe?
Those coffees near Justin Bishop's house.
What time of day were the transactions?
They're all around the same time, 3:30, 4:00.
After school.
Hello?
Ma'am, it's Kenny from the caff.
Joe, she was meeting him after school.
It's not the father, it's the son.
Stop! He's heading towards Renfrew Street.
Stop, son!
Come here.
Alright.
So what do you want to know?
You met Corinne once, twice a week, after school?
So?
Did Dad know?
What else?
Ooh.
Very nice birthday present.
Who bought you that?
Love, it showed up on her bank statement.
Corinne came to the house,
and Dad gave her one look and thought,
"Spy. She's spying on us." He wasn't ready.
What about you? Were you ready?
Oh, yeah, she was a godsend.
Did Corinne pay for this lot?
Personally, I don't get the whole designer label thing.
Obviously, anything catches your eye, help yourself.
Well, why accept it if you don't like it?
Oh, you asked her to buy this for you, did you?
It's called retail therapy. Made her feel better.
Didn't bring your mam back, though, did it,
all this, mm?
And then what, when you'd finished emptying her pockets? What then?
Get fed up in the end, did you, turn on her,
the woman who killed your mam?
No.
Monday evening. I told you, I went out.
In the car? I hear you're doing great guns with the driving lessons.
Boring.
Saturday night, early hours of Sunday morning.
I was in me bed.
Anyone vouch for you? What do you think?
Come on, we'll go for a drive.
Move!
I've been looking at the coroner's report on your mam.
Where was she going in the car?
She was in a hurry, running late.
Busy wife and mother,
a full-time job.
Oh, she was picking you up from school, was she?
Mm. Couldn't you have just got the bus?
I'd missed it.
Well, wait for the next one.
Oh, mm.
Yeah, six in the evening, late October.
She didn't want you coming home in the dark.
She was over-protective.
How come you missed the bus?
ICT suite at school.
Lose track of time?
Yeah.
It was the third time that week.
Your poor mam.
So who called who?
I texted.
Did she text back?
Yeah.
What did she say?
"On my way. One of these days you'll have to stand on your own two feet."
And you texted back? Yeah.
And what did you say?
"Can't wait."
And maybe if she hadn't been so bloody angry with you...
Maybe... Maybe she wouldn't have missed that sign.
Hm?
Your fault.
Ee, an idea like that...
once it gets inside you, there's nothing anyone can say.
So maybe it's what you do now that counts.
Yeah, that's what she said.
Who, Corinne?
Dad's off crusading against low-visibility road signs,
in walks Corinne, no bairns of her own,
and after Sam's done hating her, she's still there, waiting to listen.
So? So maybe Sam's not to blame here.
Maybe this poor kid just lost his mam twice over.
Or? Or what?
This poor kid has just turned 18, right?
Did he own up to all the unanswered phone calls to Corinne's phone?
No, not yet. No.
So maybe he was soft on her.
Or maybe...
she's soft on him.
'Ma'am, Franks is at Hopkins' house. I'll meet you there.
I'm just asking, were you aware your wife was friendly with Sam Bishop?
What you saying now, that she was screwing this... What is he, 16?
Not at all, but this was an intense friendship.
Intense? This is insane.
It all sounds like some tabloid euphemism...
Let me tell you.
My wife... My wife...
we were solid.
We had everything - love, work, marriage, no walls.
Okay, Mr. Franks, we just wanted to establish if you knew.
No, I didn't know, because there was nothing TO know.
She was over that accident.
That's not how you put it this morning.
Well, it's how I'm putting it now.
She was walking, she was smiling, she was over it.
You people.
We were trying to give him a night off.
We were trying to forget about all this.
Andrew Franks.
What's his alibi again?
You're looking at it.
A friend in need.
Will you read this?
Who's this from?
Robert Doran. Remember him?
When was this? It was years ago.
He was banged up in Acklington Prison at the time.
Is it true, do you think, what he says?
Yeah, I think it probably is.
'Ey, now. Hang on.
Did you show this to madam? Who, Vera? No.
Oh, well, I am honoured.
Thing is, Joe, where I used to work, if somebody made a mistake,
it meant ordering in more staples or printing ink.
You know, fur flew that day, but...
in your world, if something goes wrong, then...
Do you think less of us? No, you prat.
The fact that you hung on to this is why I hang on to you.
It makes you what you are.
Bet your sock drawer's full of these.
I get you... He gets what?
Look, you are not to blame.
Come here.
I'd better go.
Talk to him.
Thanks, love. You're welcome.
Mm. So what am I?
Candy for the kid or espresso for the old?
You're both.
I saw it in a film.
It's called affogato.
I figured if I blew enough cash on stuff you didn't want,
maybe you'd actually talk to me.
It's actually pretty good.
Now, you and Corinne... Look, I've told you...
we were friends. I know. That's not what I'm asking.
Listen. You remember she said something like,
um, "If you feel you've done something wrong",
it's what you do next that counts."
Yeah, it's called contrition. Is that how she felt? Contrite?
For something she'd done?
Look, you were friends, Sam.
Come on. She's dead. Help me out here.
I'm trying.
Were you keeping a secret for her?
Something like that.
So, Okay, the car accident.
She wasn't speeding, your mam came out of nowhere,
so how's that Corinne's fault? It wasn't her fault.
But she felt she was in the wrong, hm? She was bad?
Something on her mind. Distracted.
She was distracted?
She wasn't on the phone. We'd have picked that up from the log.
She was driving down the lane, on her own. Your mam...
Wait.
She wasn't on her own?
There was someone with her?
There was someone else in the car with her?
Yes.
Corinne wasn't alone in the car when she crashed!
She lied to the police. She lied to the coroner.
Whatever killed Lizzie, killed Corinne, is inside that crash.
I want to know who was in the car. Okay. I'm on it.
Is Joe with you? 'No. I saw him this morning.
Well, tell him to turn his phone on.
What?
Do you mind if I come in?
I kept it. Aye? What's that?
The letter.
What? I wrote that?
Yeah.
What did I say?
Uh... well, your wife had just visited you in prison...
and she was moving on.
And your son. Right.
Aye, well...
he's a bit older than that now, of course.
That guy I hurt.
We stepped out of the pub,
he's waiting in the street, threatened my wife.
He threw the first punch. I was defending myself.
We appealed for witnesses. For about 30 seconds.
It was a pub full of people. But nobody came forward.
No, you were in that much of a hurry you just cracked on anyway.
And then... in court, when the jury called it, do you know what you did?
Eh?
You turned to your buddy, raised your hand, went, "Hey! High five!"
Hey...
High five.
Now, go on.
I was too young.
Aye, me too.
Hey, you caught your killer yet?
You got lucky. This was meant to go off to the breakers months ago.
It was only the widower complaining about the coroner's verdict...
Nice of you to turn up.
The evidence got glued up in the system.
Here we have it. Exhibit A.
Corinne's car?
We'll need you to run it for prints and fibres.
You didn't want to see the other effects?
Mrs. Franks was meant to come and collect.
We sent her that many reminders.
Sometimes people just want to forget.
Oh, well, yeah, right.
So where was this found? Boot of the car.
Right. Thanks, Derek. Ah.
Hm.
Overnight bag. Dirty weekend...
So what's with the teddy?
What's with the passport?
I think she was leaving him.
I think she was running away.
Hello?
Right. It's for you.
Hello.
Yeah, Okay. Um... half an hour?
Okay.
It's Robert Doran.
So I gather.
Well, he wants a word. Okay.
You hear that?
Listen! You hear it?
It's a... It's a fault in the turbo engine.
It's not terminal, just a job to fix.
Well, I was working... and I realised...
the car in the lane...
The one you thought you heard the night Lizzie was shot?
Aye. It has the same fault as this one.
Same whine in the engine.
So you think this is... No, this was left here over the weekend.
I just...
I just thought it might help.
Anyway... Thank you.
For Beth.
Okay, everyone, stop what you're doing.
I want to know about any pending jobs
for vehicles with reported turbo problems.
Alright? You can start with garages in the Tynemouth area
and then spread out.
So come on, let's get cracking. Come on.
Yes.
You can't just take him and not say when he'll be back!
I'm not under arrest. I haven't been charged.
They just need to rule me out. Can you mind the paintwork?
This is ridiculous! Mrs. Hopkins, please.
Hey, get back inside.
Excuse me.
Kirsty, you need to calm down.
You need to go back inside, phone the solicitor and stop worrying.
Corinne Franks.
We pulled her car out of dry dock. You know, the one she crashed in.
It should have been scrapped by now but sometimes we get lucky.
Your prints are on the dashboard.
I imagine they would be. I got a lift several times.
They're on the dashboard, the seats, the windows - all over.
And not just prints. Traces of...
"genetic material", I think they call it.
Delicate lot, forensics.
Me, I like to call a spade a spade.
Were you having a sexual relationship with Corinne Franks?
I didn't kill her. That's not what I asked you.
Mr. Hopkins, we can wait
until Forensics confirm that what they found matches your DNA,
or you could save us the trouble. Yes. We had a...
We were seeing each other. An affair.
That makes it sound temporary and squalid.
Whereas having sex in the back of a car with someone else's spouse...
Love.
We were in love.
Andrew know?
Your wife?
Kirsty's world is the kids.
So you and Corinne decide to run away together, mm?
Her with her little escape pod in the boot?
Clothes, toothbrush, passport.
And then suddenly - wham!
Someone else's world crashes right into yours
and everything changes.
Recognise these numbers? Telephone numbers.
She wouldn't answer if she knew it was me.
What happened to love?
There was a moment in the crash...
a revelation, she called it, that...
if she was gonna die, I wasn't the man she wanted by her side,
not the man she wanted to die with.
Mm.
So she went back to her husband.
And you hounded her with phone calls.
And when that didn't work - ooh, the raffle.
Did you fix the raffle for her and Andrew to win?
Hm? Reeling her back in.
We made love in every room in that house.
If being there again didn't bring her to her senses...
A shotgun to the chest would?
I didn't kill that girl.
I didn't kill Corinne.
Yet here you are, the jilted lover,
with a motive,
and, as Forensics have just confirmed,
the car that killed Corinne Franks.
What do you mean Forensics have just confirmed it was my car?
What are you talking about?
Traces of Corinne Franks's blood on the front bumper.
Brain tissue on the windscreen.
Where were you the evening she was killed?
I was... with her husband. I was with Andrew.
When Lizzie Faulkner was shot?
I was away... on business.
And your wife?
Mr. Hopkins, where was she?
She couldn't have known about Corinne.
It's the kids. That's all she sees, is the kids.
Come on. Where are we going?
We're going to play a game.
Yes or no. Did your wife have access to a gun?
Her father had an old weapon.
Where's it kept? In a cabinet under the stairs,
under lock and key. Who has a key?
We both do. Joe.
Hey, I thought we were waiting. We are waiting.
I'm just going to take a little peep. You stay where you are.
Joe. It's Okay. The gun's still locked in the cupboard.
But we'll need to...
Ma'am?
Hold on, love.
Kirsty?
Are the kids with you, love?
Kirsty?
Love...
Come on.
Pick up.
Kirsty, love.
We just want to know that you're alright.
'Well, we're not.
Vera!
'What's that man doing?'
What man's that, love? Vera!
Ma'am.
Come down, love.
We're not coming down, are we?
We're not leaving this house.
Tim's going spare over you lot.
Oh, he puts on a good show, that man.
He has no feelings for any of us.
Does he?
Hm? Mum...
Shh.
It's Okay.
Hey, Kirsty, I'm interested.
Um...
How did you find out about your husband and uh...
Corinne?
I kept finding all these phones he had.
'He only ever called one number.
Tell that man not one more step.
Joe.
No one wants to hurt you.
Yeah, they do. Here they all come.
It's absolutely too late. You see that, don't you?
I'll tell you what.
You're a wonderful mother to those two bairns.
But don't you see? That's just it.
If I go, who'll look after them? How will they manage?
They'll be taken care of.
No.
It's me they look to.
Always have done. Ever since the minute they came into this world.
If I go...
Well, you see?
They have a father.
'He may have lost sight of you for a minute, but...
they mean all the world to him.
More than her? 'More than anything.
I don't think so.
He'll be there.
And one day, somewhere down the line...
so will you.
Mum, there's a man.
Come on, please. Give them a chance.
Come on. There we go.
Ma'am, it's Okay. I've got the kids.
No, Kirsty!
You'll wait for them! I know you will! I know that's what you want!
'Why?'
Because when I called you just now...
you answered the phone.
Kirsty!
Joe?
It's the taxi, love.
Joe.
Joe, love. Taxi.
Come on. Meter's running.
You been smoking?
Don't be daft.
Really?
Right. I'll see you. Yeah. Night, love.
Night-night.
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