This is Lamb.
If I didn't answer, it's because I don't want to speak to you.
Hello. Got you, didn't I? It's Marcus Longridge. Leave a message.
- Here you go. Enjoy. - Cheers.
This is River. Leave a message.
Hello?
Finally. Someone picked up.
Where are you?
None of your business.
Yeah, well, you're supposed to be at the Chickado.
Why?
Our Christmas party.
We don't have a Christmas party.
And if we did, we'd have it before Christmas and not at a Chickado.
Yeah. Well, maybe you're not invited.
Maybe Lamb only told the elites.
Lamb told you about it though, didn't he?
I asked him where the Christmas party was, and he gave me the details.
Right.
See if you can work out what happened.
Yeah, well, you gotta be in the game to get played, so...
Hello?
At Westacres shopping center.
Confirmed there's a car bomb.
First Desk approaching.
Claude Whelan, First Desk.
- And you are? - Agent Singh.
- Right. - Ma'am.
I mean, something like this, there are-- There are no words.
It's just...
We're confirmed it's a car bomb?
Yes, ma'am. We have it on CCTV.
Driver was in the car, so it was a suicide attack.
On a shopping center. My God.
Car drives up through the pedestrianized area,
people scatter,
he drives straight into the entrance and detonates.
Jesus Christ.
What do we know about the car?
Hired under the name Robert Winters, 28-year-old freelance IT consultant,
but nothing in his background to indicate why he did this.
Track his journey on CCTV. We need to know where he came from.
We checked the address in Leicester he gave to the hire-car company.
Nobody's been there in years.
Neighbors have never seen nor heard of Winters.
Jesus.
So maybe he's a ghost.
Could be this is a one-off.
Or the start of something.
And from talking to people in London, it seems
that a sense of anxiety remains across the community.
In the latest move, armed police have been placed on some trains,
although this feels more of a confidence-boosting measure
than a response to a specific threat.
Do you really think he is part of a network?
I guess the longer it goes without another attack,
the more likely he's just a lone wolf.
I hate the term "lone wolf." Makes him sound edgy.
He's just a murderous prick.
Right. We'll do that again.
We just toasted a murderous prick. Say something else.
To not being in Slough House this time next year.
Yeah. That's unlikely.
Unless we just quit.
You don't actually wanna do that,
do you?
Well, I'm always thinking about it. Yeah.
Great.
Anyway, yeah, there's just been something
that I've wanted to share with you for a while, and, you know,
- I wanted to do it outside of the office... - Okay.
...and I've felt like I could share that with you
'cause we've-- I think we've gotten closer.
- Uh-huh. - And...
I don't want to overstep the mark or anything,
and I get it if you want to keep it to work when it comes to us.
- Oh, River. I'm sorry. - Just--
- I do like you, but-- - But my grandfather--
- What? - No, your grandfather. Yeah.
Yeah, what did you just say?
- I didn't-- No. Go on. Carry on. - What did you think I was gonna say?
- Did you think I was gonna ask you out? - No, I didn't.
- Yes, you did. Yeah, you did. - I didn't. Okay, I did.
But that's because you asked for a drink at lunchtime
'cause you wanted to talk to me about something,
and then you started whanging on about how close
- you felt to me and then-- Yeah. - Whanging on?
- Well, I do. I feel closer to you. - Can we go on to your grandfather now?
Okay.
- I think he's going-- - Going where?
Like...
He's just confused all the time.
Forgets everything.
Isn't that just part of aging?
- He's like, what, 80-something? - No, no.
He thinks he's being watched by stoats.
What are stoats?
It's what his generation call watchers.
He's sleeping with a gun by the bed.
Like...
Do you think that maybe he should be in a home?
Yeah. Yeah, I do. But do you wanna tell him that?
You know, the last time I saw him, he genuinely didn't know who I was
for, like, the first ten minutes.
No idea.
He kept telling me about his grandson River. I can't--
It's horrible to see it.
Well, tough shit.
- What? - He is the one that raised you.
He is the one that looked after you when no one else did.
So now it's your turn.
You need to go and see him. Tonight.
No, I know, I know. Yeah, I know. Yeah.
I just needed you to tell me that.
I know you're there. Come on. Let me see you. Come on.
Come on!
Come on. I know you're there. Come on.
Let me see you.
Come on!
Oh, River.
Can you let me in? I'm getting soaked.
Yes, of course.
Come in.
Why didn't you call? Or maybe you did.
I did call you, but you didn't answer. I'm just gonna run up to the loo.
Traffic was awful. And I'll tell you what, shall I run you a bath while I'm up there?
Looks like you got caught in the rain too.
It's just awful.
Almost ready, Gramps.
You're not my grandson.
Whoa. It's me. It's River.
C-- Please. Can you put the gun down please?
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God. What have I done?
Fuck.
Lamb.
Fuck.
I'll call you when I've got more info.
They were going through stuff, but-- He's just arrived.
I'll call you back.
You're Lamb?
This time of night, I'm plagued by doubts.
I'm Emma Flyte. Duffy's replacement.
Well, you're already an improvement.
On account of not being brain-dead and in a coma.
The grapevine says it was one of yours put him in that coma.
Well, the grapevine says a lot of things, but it's mostly the wine talking.
The guy before Duffy was altogether classier.
Bad Sam Chapman.
That was just a name.
Wasn't that bad.
Except for that bit about losing a quarter of a billion pounds.
Well, I said he wasn't bad.
Didn't say he was perfect.
Want to show me the damage?
You know Mr. Cartwright?
I have an alibi, I was in a sauna with Lady Di.
You can ask her.
Do you know Mr. Cartwright?
- Which one? - Either. Both.
Well, the younger one works for me.
The grandfather gave me a job once.
They're nice shoes.
You get a clothing allowance?
Fucking hell.
You ready?
So, you're in charge of the rejects.
They don't like being called that.
- What do you call them? - The rejects.
Here, love, look. You missed a bit.
It's bad in there.
I've seen bad before.
Someone pressed the panic button at 2103.
Local police arrived 2149.
It's a good job it wasn't an emergency.
The old man pressed the button twice the week before.
Once because he'd forgotten what it was for and wanted to find out.
Those panic buttons are traceable, anyone mention that?
Thanks. I'll make a note.
But I've already traced his particular button to the kitchen table.
Did you look underneath it?
What are you looking for?
Alka-Seltzer.
Not normally a drinker, but I had a sherry before dinner.
This is a crime scene, not a chemist's.
He was shot twice. Once in the chest, once in the face.
Seems excessive.
Though he could be annoying, I'll give you that.
You don't seem too concerned.
- I've lost joes before. - You were an active.
Yeah, when you were still in mittens.
He was carrying this.
- Phone and wallet? - Both Cartwright's.
What the fuck do you need me for then?
Formal identification.
It's a bit of a challenge.
Well, did he have any identifying marks?
He used to have a face. That any help?
- Tattoos, scars, piercings? - Now, how the fuck would I know?
I make 'em wear clothes around the office.
Is it him?
Yeah, it's him.
You're sure?
It's River Cartwright.
- So, where is he then? - Where's who?
The old bastard.
That's what we used to call him.
And he was a bastard. I can guarantee that.
We have no idea.
I imagine you wanna keep this quiet, what with Westacres.
What does Westacres have to do with this?
Nothing.
But a bomb goes off in London, it's an Intelligence Service fuckup,
which ironically describes our young Cartwright.
When this gets out, the keyboard nutters will be joining the wrong dots.
We'll wrap it up before it comes to that.
Well, the next sound you hear will be me expressing confidence.
Impressive.
Can you do that to order?
Why? Do you want another?
You are gross and inappropriate.
I'm working through my grief. It comes out in off ways.
Any idea where Cartwright senior might go?
No. I'm going back to bed.
Would you also consider a shower?
Yeah, it's a tempting offer,
but I don't think that's appropriate right now.
I mean, apart from anything else, one of my team just died.
Come in.
...shows that Winters drove into the venue--
- Claude, I've got s-- - Diana, thank you so much for this.
It'll be my first COBRA meeting, so I was wondering
if you might be able to give me a rundown of what to expect?
- Okay. Yep. Well, I'm-- - Please, if you wouldn't mind.
- I've got a lot going on, so... - Right. Yes.
...I'll just stick to the headlines, if that's all right.
Sure, if you wouldn't mind.
- Keep it short but dense. - Short, dense.
Stress the frailty of HUMINT.
Don't be afraid to say you don't know,
don't say anything that can't be triple-sourced,
and don't tell them anything you don't want leaked.
- Yes, of course. - You can ignore the Defense Secretary,
he'll only want to undermine you to boost the standing of military intelligence.
And I have to warn you, if the PM objects to anything you suggest,
the Home Secretary will put the boot in,
even though she's agreed to everything you have just said,
- but-- I mean, you'll be fine. - Yeah, but thanks--
But I came to tell you that there's been another death.
What, another bomb?
No, no.
A shooting. Unrelated.
- But the victim is an agent. - Oh, no.
River Cartwright, shot by his grandfather, David Cartwright.
David Cartwright?
But he was supposed to be one of our finest, wasn't he?
I mean, I never met him, but--
I'm sorry, why on earth did he shoot his grandson?
Apparently he mistook him for an intruder, but Flyte's got it locked down.
Right. How's she working out for you?
- Good. - Yes. I know she wasn't your choice.
She was my choice.
It was the terms of her choosing that were yours.
Well, I think you'll see the benefits of bringing in an outsider, Diana.
I mean, she's unswayed by any internal politics,
all helps with the accountability drive, you know?
Let's not share this Cartwright incident with the public.
Not until we've found David and we know what the hell happened.
Yeah. No, I can see the sense in that. Tragic. Diana?
Yep.
Was just wondering-- Just wondering whether you might
prefer to attend this COBRA meeting rather than me?
That's a First Desk duty.
But by all accounts, you did such a sterling job
filling in after Tearney.
Given the gravity of the situation and obviously your experience,
I think they'd be a lot more comfortable, you know, with you being present
and reporting back to me. Yes?
Absolutely.
- Yes? Is that okay? Is it o-- Great. - Yes. Yep. Anything you say.
Thank you so much. Thank you.
Right.
Why did you bomb Westacres?
How many are in your network?
What is the next target?
Hey.
What is the next target?
That's how you get a suspect to talk. Just put me in a room with them.
I could've held out longer if I was actually holding something from you.
- No, everyone's got a breaking point. - What was mine?
- Seven seconds. - Is that all?
- Right. Pay up. - Fuck's sake.
- Lovely. - 200.
Yeah, all right.
Now I know what it's like, I reckon I could do a full minute.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
What on earth's been going on here? Do we have a leak?
No. He's been waterboarding me.
Why?
For a bet. Paper clips.
Paper clips are his gambling methadone.
This office is in enough of a state already.
Do dry your hair, dear.
You know, back at the Park,
I was one of the Desk Allocators to the Queens of the Database.
You have mentioned it.
Still not sure what it means.
It means that I was across the management of every office.
I knew who was doing what, when.
And I find running this place more of a challenge.
When are you going to pack up the Christmas decorations?
We flipped for it. Shirley's gonna do it.
No, I'm not. Best of three.
Well, just pack them up before you bring us bad luck.
Our luck can't get any worse.
Blast.
I'm giving you these back from last week.
What, the list of noise complaints to councils?
- They need to be in date order. - Right.
Right, well, Catherine wanted things like this grouped by number of complaints, so...
Catherine's not here, is she?
Whatever.
Pointless however we do it.
Morning, JK. Do watch your footing.
Would you prefer Coe?
Mr. Coe?
- Has he said anything yet? - Not a word.
Which, to be honest with you, I'm pretty happy about.
He just does this?
In between work, yeah, so please give him some work quick.
1.95.
What kind of person blows up a shopping center full of people?
Makes you wonder what's next.
Yes. Jaffa Cakes. That's what's next.
And some Alka-Seltzer.
There you go. Cheers.
You have crushed me.
Wreaked violence upon me.
Only now will I be free.
Two minutes out.
You will suffer for the years I spent imprisoned by your system.
God willing, I will not be the last.
- You will hear from my brothers soon. - Well?
Lamb identified the body as River Cartwright.
That's confirmed, then?
Lamb give you any trouble?
I've dealt with men like Lamb before.
I don't think you have.
- Where's David? - Still missing.
A neighbor heard a car drive off in the middle of the night.
Those bloody Cartwrights.
Why do they have to do this when we're stretched so thin?
Find Cartwright senior.
Shouldn't I be on Westacres?
I heard you traced the bomber back to a flat.
There's an armed unit going in right now.
I want you on the Cartwright murder.
- Two minutes out, ma'am. - Has anyone been in or out of the flat?
Not since we've had eyes on it.
Ma'am, this is Winters setting out just after 1:00 p.m. yesterday.
We've been on it since 4:00 a.m. today. Our drones are up.
Curtains are drawn, so we can't be certain,
but as far as we know, there's no one else in there.
Doesn't mean there isn't. Might be accomplices.
Move those children.
Okay. Move those children.
Hi. Sorry I'm late.
Any activity at the back?
Still nothing, ma'am.
Proceed.
- Police! - Alpha-1 entering the premises.
- Opening! - Police!
Clear.
- Clear. - Clear.
Clear.
- Clear! - Clear!
Clear.
He lived like a monk.
The flat's clear, ma'am.
There's not much to go on here.
Get forensics in there. I want every inch of that flat turned over.
Understood.
Right, boys, let's let the white coats in here to do their science.
Sir.
I found a passport.
It's the same ID he used to hire the car.
He wasn't hiding himself.
Because he knew he was gonna die.
Here come the boffins.
Hope you animals haven't trashed the place.
Nothing to trash.
Swept the whole flat, some spare clothes, boots, sleeping bag.
That's about it, yeah.
Go on then. Fuck off.
Let's shed some light on this place.
Shit.
What just happened?
- I-- - Come on.
- I think there was a booby trap, ma'am. - Jesus Christ. What?
- Ma'am, three dead... - Oh, fuck.
...possibly more injured.
Get them out. Lock it down.
Evacuate the entire block, and get a new team in.
We need to know if there's a second bomber.
Yes, ma'am.
Oh, fuck. This is a disaster.
Absolute bloody disaster.
Claude.
Claude?
I'm sorry. I've just never seen anything quite like this
- in front of my own eyes before, so I-- - Yeah, but you need to shoulder it.
Yeah, you're right.
I suppose I better update the PM again and issue a statement.
No. You have to tell the families first.
They can't find out about this on the news.
Of course.
I don't know what I was-- Thank you, Diana. You're a real rock.
Where's my update?
Evacuating the building now, ma'am.
What a mess.
- Roderick? - Yeah?
What are you doing?
Taking Cartwright's computer.
Why?
Because he's dead.
- What? - What's going on?
What are you doing?
Roddy just said that River's dead.
Sick joke, Ho.
It's not a joke. It's a fact.
- How would you know? - Lamb told me.
Lamb told you what?
What's going on in here?
Cartwright's dead.
- What do you mean he's dead? - Very funny.
Lamb told me Cartwright's dead.
"Will be late in.
Up all night identifying Cartwright's body."
- It's got to be a windup. Come on. - What? Where? What?
He must be having a laugh.
This doesn't make any sense. Have you spoken to Lamb?
- No. - So--
Wha-- So you think he's dead, but you nick his computer?
I'm not nicking his computer. He's dead.
Duty log says shots reported at David Cartwright's.
Body found.
Oh, my God.
Oh, shit. This is my fault.
Oh, my God.
- Oh, my God. I told him to go. - Go where?
I told him to go and see his grandfather, and his grandfather fucking shot him.
- Fuck. Tell me this isn't true. - What?
Tell me this is not happening again.
- No, this is not happening again. - We don't even know the circumstances.
We know he's dead, don't we?
What else do we need to know? He's dead.
Well, in happier news, I have a girlfriend.
You're a fucking prick!
Loui-- Louisa!
Fuck!
Make your peace. You missed your chance.
Counterterrorism police and the security service
in London have confirmed they are following
all potential leads as the investigation into the bombing
of the Westacres Shopping Center continues.
Whilst a spokesperson confirmed they don't know how Robert Winters
acquired the ingredients for the device he used,
it's understood that residents...
...have been assisting police with their inquiries.
Meanwhile 25-year-old Jack Wharton
is the latest victim killed in the attack to be named.
His brother was reportedly injured by the blast.
This means that all the 23 people who died
in the bombing have now been identified.
This morning, armed police patrolled several major...
Jackson, what do you want?
That's a nice welcome. You could have put some feeling into it.
I did, just not the kind you were hoping for.
- Gonna invite me in? - No.
Mind if I come in anyway?
I brought breakfast.
I've already eaten, and that's not a breakfast.
How about a drink then?
Bit early, even for you.
I meant a glass of water.
So, why are you here?
Can't drop in on an old friend?
Unlikely and inaccurate.
I've just come from identifying River Cartwright's body.
I wanted you to be the first to know.
There, you see? Look, breakfast. Got orange in it.
- Fruit. Healthy. - River? How?
Bullet to the chest and a bullet to the face.
Literally wiped the annoying look off it.
- Aren't you going to respond? - This is me responding.
Where did it happen?
In the bathroom.
Just like old times, eh?
And will you tell the others?
Well, I sent a text to Ho.
I expect he'd have spread the word around by now.
You sent a text?
Well, I wasn't gonna tweet it.
Jesus Christ, Standish, a man died.
You know what this news will do to Louisa?
That's why I sent it to Ho. I know how to be tactful.
So-- Well, now that you've told me this terrible news, y-- feel free to leave.
I can see you're busy.
- Aren't you gonna ask whose bathroom? - Whose bathroom?
Sorry, need-to-know.
You're enjoying this.
Well, I'd enjoy it more with a glass of water.
You know how dehydrated you get after an all-nighter.
For God's sake.
Are you alone?
Yeah, I should have asked.
Do I look like I have company?
Yeah. Well, I had to ask, you know.
- It's hard to shake off a reputation. - Well, you should know.
I mean, everyone you've ever met has pegged you as an utter bastard.
But I don't have to put up with you anymore because I quit. Remember?
Well, I tried to. I've written the same letter to HR three times.
Yeah, I know. They keep forwarding it to me.
Something about ratifying the paperwork.
For God's sake, Lamb. What's the problem?
I mean, you spent years goading me, and then I finally did what you wanted.
Just sign the damn papers, and let me get on with my life.
I wanna make sure you know your own mind.
Right, imagine how I'd feel
if you wound up full of regret and had a relapse.
I wouldn't want that on my conscience,
you getting all weepy and hitting the bottle.
Now, they say drunks are just looking for an excuse.
I'm not blaming you, it's a disease.
It was his grandfather's, by the way.
What?
His grandfather's bathroom, not that you asked.
You also didn't ask who.
- Who what? - Who shot River.
Because, like me, you know he's alive.
So stop playing games.
You've just told me you'd identified his body.
Yeah, and you were remarkably incurious about the circumstances.
I'm in shock, okay.
You're in shock at me being here, but you're not in shock
at the idea of River being alive because you've seen him.
What are you talking about?
- That's absolute rubbish. - No, don't.
- Please, Standish. - No--
You're no good at this.
And besides...
his car's outside.
Yes. Okay. He was here,
- but he's not here anymore. - All right, that's better.
Now, please don't pretend
you haven't got the old bastard stashed away in the bedroom.
Jackson. River asked me to protect him.
Happy now?
You know me.
When am I not full of joie de fucking vivre.
Good. Well, perhaps you could leave my bedroom now.
Hey!
Mate.
Where's River?
Who the hell are you?
How much longer?
We aren't far now.