Did anyone see her there? No.
But her job radio as found there, smashed, thrown in a hedge.
A small quantity of blood was found on it. Witnesses said they'd seen a man hanging round near Debbie's flat.
Yeah, the E-fit on page 12 of your document.
He was never found. It was a complete red herring.
A week after the radio, her epaulet numbers were found...hanging on the railings of her own nick.
He was taunting you - "Look at me. I killed Debbie Britten."
No mystery about cause of death - close-range gunshot. How close?
A few feet away.
See the burning and powder tattooing?
If it'd been hard against the skin, we'd see a muzzle mark bruising.
Bullet? There's a big old exit wound. Yeah.
But look, there were three shots... Boyd.
One in her thigh...yeah?
And...another one in her ankle.
Do you think he chased her? And shot at her twice before he killed her?
One of them ripped through her thigh muscle and the other nicked her ankle. No bullets. Where are they?
Do you know, Mel, 1 in 20 women get stalked in their lifetime?
Half of those will be ex-partners - men who just couldn't take no for an answer.
If she'd known him, surely they'd have traced him.
Well, these have got a lot to answer for.
"Look at my lovely house. Look at my lovely life. Come in, have a cup of tea." Hold on a sec.
OK, so why kill her? Who knows?
But do you know, Mel, she was beautifully wrapped up, she wasn't bundled.
The knots were...secure, but they weren't constrictive.
There was respect there...
like, in a way, he didn't want her to suffer any more.
There's not enough money in this job. No.
Perhaps she was the only one in his life who'd ever been kind to him,
then he'd believe, "She chose me from the crowd. I'm the one."
She wanted him to follow her.
I found this under her fingernails. It's household emulsion.
We're looking for a cream room that used to be lilac.
I'd have worked that out. You might have thought it was a lilac room that used to be cream.
OK. Have you checked for sexual assault? Can't. She's too far gone.
It wasn't sexual assault. For a start, she had all her clothes on and they were intact.
You'll find this hard to believe, but whoever did this cared about her.
I find that hard to believe. Can we get into her flat?
Check the fuse box. Yeah.
Jesus, I can smell cigarette smoke. Frankie, wait, wait, wait.
It's Debbie's mum.
Leave me alone. Just get out of here.
And, Boyd, please put your mask on!
Mrs Jones... I had to be near her,
with her things, see her photos. Come on, take it easy. Round you go.
Boyd, come on, please!
One's missing. How do you know?
It's her wedding album. He took that. Did you touch anything else?
ANSWERING MACHINE CLICKS ON 'Hello, this is Debbie...'
SOBS
Come on, let's get out of here.
I'll need her DNA and yours. Eh? You've taken your mask off. You're breathing everywhere!
Sorry, but you know. It's not just her daughter's flat, it's a potential murder scene.
Can we get some bags in here, please?
Mel, can I have a blanket? You made her your pin-up girl, you put her on show.
When can I have her back? As soon as possible. Just keep warm.
We'll help you with the funeral.
Help me? Last time was a mockery, not a memorial.
If there's anything else we can do for you...
Is she all right? It's not the dead that get to you in the end, it's the people they leave behind.
What do you think?
Not sure. When you stop talking, I get worried.
OK...
..let's just assume he hears her arriving.
He's waiting for her...
..in the dark.
Waiting for the key to turn in the lock.
'Now, what if he took the fuse out?'
Taking the medals and the album makes sense...
..but destroying the photographs doesn't.
He came looking for her, she wasn't here, he got angry and lashed out?
What do people do when they're angry or jealous? Smash up cars, cut up clothes, I don't know. No.
He was far more likely to cut up her underwear, cut up her pictures, not gouge her face off.
We're talking about an obsessive,
somebody who is in total control of their actions,
someone who is more likely to take home their treasures, not trash them.
OK, look, there was definitely another rug overlapping this rug -
the pile's slightly depressed,
and there's the same yellow fibres that were on Debbie's uniform.
So he killed her in this room but on another rug? So the bullets have to be in this area.
Spence, can you...bag this up? Yep.
'So the first shot probably brought her down.'
GUNSHOT
Got it, got it.
That is very...very clever.
Newspaper...varnished over.
I don't blame YOU.
It's been a year and not an ounce of the pain has left me.
Please don't tell me how good they are.
I can't bear to...
think about what they'll do or not do.
Spence, more light.
I think we've got it.
Yep. You OK?
I would never have got this out.
It's really badly crushed, guys. Not much chance of getting a gun type on this.
The other bullets must be in the wall. OK, Mel. Stand over there.
I'm pointing a gun, you anticipate a shot. What would you do?
OK, well, I'd duck down, try and avoid it. Right, if she did that,
then we're looking lower. No, we're only looking for one other bullet.
If she did this, the bullet going through her thigh would have nicked her ankle. Right.
So the bullet that went through her head must be...here.
GUNSHOTS 'This is a partition wall. It would have gone straight through.'
Got it! He's filled it in.
The bullet could have ricocheted anywhere. He wouldn't have had time to search the room.
I'll mine the bullet hole out.
OK, let me just get this hole, Spence, then you mine the hole out,
but be very careful.
Gently...gently...
Easy, Spence. Try and find the path the bullet took through the wall.
Yep.
OK, Mel, beam's on.
Right... Yes, the bullet's ricocheted off the floor!
Stay there. Stay right there, don't move. Where's she going?
Hello, what's going on?
I know it's sad, but some of us try to look lovely at all times.
Now, if I can get this into the same angle as the groove in the metal...
..Bingo!
Spence!
Spence, come here.
Because this one went into something soft, those little striations are as good as a fingerprint.
It was definitely fired by a Smith and Wesson. Now we need a gun.
OK, the first break-in - we know Debbie Britten's medal was taken,
and I'm guessing that's when the wedding album went as well,
because stalkers take souvenirs. Now, the second break-in -
the night she was killed - this is different.
Taking the epaulets and giving them back to the police - a stalker wouldn't do that.
We're probably talking about two different people.
OK, so dumping the radio at the community centre - that was just to throw the police off the scent, yeah?
4pm, Debbie left the police station. We've found bullets in her flat.
We should stage a reconstruction - her last walk home. Yeah, he'll probably come to that.
Oh, come on, Grace! Spence, start listening to me!
That's typical of what they would do. He'd come to the funeral as well.
We'll have to have surveillance and CCTV... Yeah, everything.
And keep a watch on that grave long after the ceremony is over. Promise.
All right, so three months before Debbie died,
somebody broke into her car and left flowers and chocolate.
Now, we're all convinced that it wasn't her ex-husband? That is classic, classic stalker behaviour.
Man with hat? SPENCER: So you think it's him?
Looks pretty scary to me.
We need to find this guy. Let's get on it, Spence. Bit of a mystery.
The glass from the break-in on the night Debbie died
is the same window that was smashed on the previous break-in, BUT... I put all the fragments together,
the night she died, I don't think it was a break-in at all,
because the glass was smashed from the inside out, and made to look it was smashed from the outside in.
She let him in? Maybe he had a key.
She knew him.
If you were on White Horse Road between 6pm and 7pm on October 9th last year, and you saw this man...
would you please come forward and help us.
October 9th was the night of the Arsenal-Spurs match, took place in Highbury, North London.
If you passed on the way to the ground, watch the reconstruction, you may remember something.
GRACE: He must have followed her home.
Do you think he knew her?
She may have bought a paper from him every day and never even noticed.
They can't face that sort of rejection, they feel powerless in the outside world,
which is why they build this fantasy world and system,
so that they don't have to go through it again.
So it's not always a sexual thing? A man without a sex drive? Please!
Debbie was his world. In his fantasy, she was his.
He genuinely believed he loved her,
and that he was the most positive and...best thing in her life.
Then something happened.
But they never even had a relationship. In his head he did.
Often, when the thing you love is threatened,
it's easier to destroy them than watch them being taken away.
Mel, someone's behind you. Get him to take his helmet off. Turn round, Mel.
You OK?
Yeah... She was just another copper going home.
But by the time she got to her front door, she was already dead.
I'll make you a cup of tea.
Sorry, sir. I've got to take them back to forensics. Course.
You OK? Yeah.
Seeing you walking down the street brought it back to me.
Maybe Norma's right - we should have seen it coming.
No-one could have known.
Maybe that's too easy.
I fancied a woman once who worked in a deli.
I knew all her hours, I even followed her home on the tube.
I suppose that was a sort of... stalking thing.
Well, did you chat her up? Yeah.
Then you stopped being an observer, didn't you?
Did you ask her out, casually, so you wouldn't lose face if she said no?
She did say no, but it just made me want her all the more.
I sent her flowers...
I remember hanging around for hours...
I ended up with a fridge full of Dolcelatte and olives.
See, ultimately, you knew when no meant no. No.
Sorry?
I married her.
THEY CHUCKLE
I don't want to see anyone unless you've got something new to tell me.
They need to go back to HQ ASAP.
Oh, and there's a bunch of flowers over there with no card. Sort it out, will you?
So, how many times do you think you might have seen him, Mr...? Bailey.
When I used to use the cashpoint on my way home from work.
How many times?
Four. Three or four. I saw him outside the flat. He moved off
when he saw me waiting.
OK, how's this looking?
Um...thicker hair, I think. Red hair.
You can't miss him, though. He's enormous. Enormous man.
How's that?
Yeah.
Yeah. I'll print that off.
Can I have a copy of the E-fit?
Sorry?
The, er... Can I...? Can I take a copy?
Why didn't you come forward before?
Well, I told you, didn't I? You just stroll in a year later.
This is the first time I've seen it. Right. So where have you been? Out of the country?
No.
Show me your banker's card.
My banker's card? Yeah, the one you used. Show it to me.
I don't have it today. I don't need it today.
I've just come down to help you with your inquiries.
You never went to that bank, did you?
What are you accusing me of? I used that bank. I am here to help you.
If you really want to help us, show me your banker's card. I don't have it. Fine.
Look, um... Maybe you can bring it to the station when you do have it.
Yeah, I'll do that. Thank you very much.
There's one dedication missing. Steve, check all the florists in that area.
And, Frankie! Frankie, the cellophane - fingerprints. Yep.
MOBILE RINGS All right, all right. ..Yes?
OK. Spence, Grace - path lab! Let's go! OK, OK.
When a body is submerged, instead of decomposing,
some of the tissues may be replaced by a waxy substance - adipocere.
It preserves tissue, allows you to find remains of organs
you may otherwise have thought were decomposed.
What Robert is trying to say is that Debbie Britten was pregnant.
What stage? It's hard to be definite. No more than three months.
Yep, and don't even ask. I'll try, but the chemical changes in the DNA will have been massive. We need it.
How else are we going to find out who the father is?
So, Debbie...
now you've fully recovered, why have you decided to get married again?
New boyfriend?
I see.
Your last husband, he was a real scumbag.
He was just torture, wasn't he? And your new boyfriend?
Redford?
Is that his name? The most beautiful man you've ever met, what?
What more handsome than his namesake?
Well, Debbie...
..you deserve it.
I hope you will both...
be very, very happy.
She's pregnant. We know how that happens, don't we? Yeah. We do? OK!
The relationship was probably over. He's never come forward. He must be the one. Doesn't mean he killed her.
Grace, do me a favour! So why was the affair kept secret?
Married, has to be. He gambled on no-one finding that out.
I know I've said it before, but we are looking at two different men.
Whoa! Excuse me! I'm going!
I already issued it. Ah, piss off, you jobsworth.
Before we were married, we used to write to each other every day.
It's time to move on.
Is it true that Debbie used to pay half the mortgage on this house after she moved out?
Is it true, James? She decided to rent the flat, but keep her stake here.
Her idea or yours? It made sense...
..thinking of the future. I thought yours and Debbie's future was over.
We will...
We WOULD...always be friends.
Her life insurance paid off the mortgage
after she died, presumably?
You bastard. You did what you could to keep her connected with you...
No! ..hoping that she'd come back.
She told you she wouldn't.
Hey, come on! That is not helping! ..Spence,
you all right? I'm fine.
You know what's the worst? Everyone looks at me as though I killed her.
Look, I'm sorry... You're not sorry. This is what you do! You just walk into people's lives
and TEAR everything open all over again!
I'd kill the bastard who did that to her.
Take a look at this! I've got five letters and an e-mail,
apparently fan mail from different people,
BUT look at the phrasing, look at the word order. They can't spell "until",
they can't spell "really". They HAVE to be from the same person.
Have you checked the addresses? They don't exist.
Have you traced the flowers? Yeah. The bouquet was for an American woman at the Montpelier Hotel.
The concierge signed for them, she never got them. Prints?
Frankie's on it now. Good. ..Frankie, feed us DNA. It's being processed.
How long? Well, I said 24 hours. We've had 6, so that leaves another 18.
I can't make the machine go faster. Night. Night. ..Where are you going?
Home. I've got kids I never see, and you want me at the funeral tomorrow. But we were talking!
No, I was talking, you weren't listening. I'll get a trace on this e-mail myself.
I'm going home as well.
Yeah, course you are.
No, I am. Night.
Montpelier Hotel...
Concierge signs for the flowers...
..takes them across...
Hello! Hiya. You look good. Nice bag.
Thank you. One of the condolence letters was from DI Maitland's wife.
I didn't know she was friendly with Debbie. Mm-hm. Anyone spoken to her? I'll do it.
Don't you want me to do it? No. Why?
Don't want you to compromise yourself, sir - the Maitlands being friends, and all.
Don't ever question the way I deal with my investigation.
Guys, I know it's not that clear, but I'm positive that this is the guy who came in to do the e-fit.
Sir, sir...
with all due respect... don't talk to me like that again.
I'm sorry. I was out of order.
No problem, sir.
And, er...it's OUR investigation. Mm-hm. Now, Mel's on to something.
The guy who came in to help with the e-fit - Mel's enhanced the picture - it's the guy that laid the bouquet.
Got an address? No, false. OK, get another E-fit.
And, remember, it's a funeral - people are grieving.
LAST POST PLAYS
Steady on the main group. Recording all monitors.
It's crawling with police. No way he'll turn up here.
Go in on the main drive.
That's Maitland's stepdaughter, Anna. That's his wife, Fiona.
Pull out.
Close in on this group.
Oh, what's that? ..No, behind them. No, next to the big tree.
Go in, go in, close in!
That's it, that's him! It's Bailey!
Spence, don't lose sight of him. OK.
He's still there, Mel. Behind them.
Stay on him.
'Can you see him, Mel? Are you near him?
'Just tell me he's not heading for the grave, Mel, please.'
If you hadn't cheated on her, this wouldn't have happened. Fiona! You were her husband.
Mel!
Please! Just leave me alone!
He's leaving, Spence, he's leaving.
'Keep close, but don't let him see you. Are you still with him? Mel? Speak to me.'
Yep. Got him, got him.
GASPING
Breathe.
We were all so close once.
Fiona, I'm Grace Foley.
I'm with...Superintendent Boyd.
It was a stalker, wasn't it? Well, we don't know yet.
Fiona...
I need to know...did Debbie ever talk to you about being frightened?
A few weeks before she died, she suddenly...
Well, it seemed...suddenly...
'Mel, where are you? What are you seeing? Mel!'
Get the car, Spence.
She just never came to the house any more.
Steve couldn't work it out either.
We thought it was us... We thought we'd done something wrong.
Leave my mother alone!
How dare you interrogate her! ..You may have to be civil with these people, but we don't!
Steven...
..was your wife interviewed during the last investigation?
Yes, I interviewed her. YOU did?
DCI Chester was in a bad state at the time. Fiona didn't know anything.
She's had a very hard time. She may be able to help now.
How? Steve, they're waiting for you to take them home. Go on.
Blaming us for the mistakes we made won't help you find the killer. Oh, come on!
Have you SEEN Debbie's mum? Don't you think she deserves better?
She's hiding something. I said I'd talk to her.
RADIO CRACKLES Yes. Mel? 'We lost him.' Where are you? 'Er...hold on.'
OK, did you get the plates? 'No. We hit traffic.' Where are you?
'We're in Kensington. ..Spence? Yes, we're in Kensington somewhere.'
OK, Spence, Mel. Go straight to the Montpelier Hotel.
Check the car park.
No, wait. Wait, wait, wait. Check the STAFF car park.
Got him. Got him.
TELEVISION IS ON
KNOCK ON DOOR Open up, police! Open the door!
Hi, Mr Bailey... or should I say Mr Redford,
because that is your real name, isn't it?
Um, can I help you at all?
What's on the tapes? The tapes?
Just various news articles. Really?
Yes. Interesting.
GRACE: Why do you record everything, Christopher?
Well, I work all the time, so I... I find it very interesting. Oh, I see.
Yes. Is that the same with the newspapers? Mmm.
Now, why did you go to the funeral?
To pay my respects.
Why's she interviewing him? I wanted her to.
He's not under arrest.
Great. Let's sit and wait, then(!)
Is she bloody getting anywhere?
It must have been amazing when Debbie was on TV all the time,
and in the newspapers. When you got off work, oh...
what's that like? It must have been like she was there with you all the time.
And then she wasn't on. They dropped her - the press. They think they're God. So fickle.
Yes, and I bet you missed her.
Yeah, I did.
Ask him how he knew where she lived.
Did you go to any of the meetings at the community centre? Oh, come on!
Boss, wait!
How did you know where Debbie lived?
I didn't. Her street wasn't on her way to work. No, I was just passing through.
What else did you lie about? Look, I saw him! I don't believe you.
Did you ever go to her flat? No.
Are you sure? No, no, no. I never went.
Break in, take a few things? Look, excuse me, I did not do that.
Please! You've never actually seen this guy!
Yes, I did! I saw him put chocolates and flowers in her car.
Did you ever see him with Debbie? No. Why didn't you tell the police that?
When they said that Debbie was missing...missing, presumed dead,
I was devastated. I didn't go to the police cos I knew it'd be like this! What changed your mind?
No, no, I'm going. Let him go. ..I know where you are, Mr Redford...if I need you.
This is good.
I've been looking at these reports Redford made for the hotel. They're completely different word clustering,
immaculate spelling. He didn't write the e-mail. A-level English? Yes.
The night Debbie was killed, Redford was working at the hotel.
He was obsessed with her. He knew where she lived, followed her home.
Yeah, but obsessionists often seek out the unobtainable, so they don't have to put themselves to the test.
But we've got to give ourselves some time - arrest him. What for? Stealing flowers? Boss...
intelligence have traced that dodgy e-mail. Michael Skinner and address.
Search warrant? Yep. You get it on the way. OK. ..Spence, you're driving. I was right!
OK, OK, as soon as we arrest him, the pace clock starts ticking,
so we'll play it nice and gentle
and see what we can get before we make it formal.
There's Mr E-fit. There he is.
'Boyd, Skinner is single and working as a full-time traffic warden.'
What's he doing?!
Over here! You - over here!
Stop!
You never heard the saying, sir? Out the car!
Come on out of the car!
Cheeky bastard! SPENCER: Oi!
What the hell are you playing at?!
His flat's full of police gear. He's got uniforms, books. He's even got a police scanner in his bedroom.
Yeah? And that's not all he's hiding.
I think he knew her, don't you?
My street's like a bloody race track. Kid got run over last week. What did your lot do, eh? Sod all!
Mr Skinner, impersonating a police officer is illegal, d'you know that?
At 40mph, them bastards are killers. I just scare them a bit.
Do you know how many break-ins we get every week?
We're investigating the murder of Sergeant Debbie Britten.
Did you know her? No. No way.
And this...could be anyone. It don't even look like me.
Sir, just found this in his flat.
DC Amelia Silver has entered and is showing Michael Skinner his T-shirt.
I'm sure you recognise this T-shirt. The T-shirt depicts a photograph of Debbie Britten and Michael Skinner.
Any chance of a cup of tea?
Well, er...
Yeah, we, um...
We met at the police-traffic wardens bash. You know,
the we're-all-mates-really-aren't-we? bash. About two years ago. First met?
..You do know her, though?
We've been through EVERY detail of Debbie Britten's life, and guess what?
You were not in it.
Well, we met at the dance. I mean, we didn't give it much of a chance. I was drunk, I was nervous.
How did you feel about that? How would YOU feel? Oh, come on, you know those girls.
They know they're cute, but they don't half make me run around.
"If them puppies are for sale, I'll take the ones with the pink nose."
That's what I said to her!
It didn't go down very well, actually. But you've got to have a go, haven't you?
No harm in trying.
She's dead.
Yeah, not cos of what WE did.
What you did? What did you do?
I don't want to discuss that. It's rather personal.
What did you do? We kissed.
Yeah, I remember now. We definitely kissed, snogged...a lot.
Come on, Michael, you wouldn't forget something like that.
We just snogged!
And it was very... Yeah, it was nice. Very nice.
Yeah... I think she got off on it.
You wrote to her, didn't you? Were you hoping for a reaction?
We traced this e-mail to you. "Debbie, what we had was really special..."
That was a mistake. I said I was sorry to her about that. When?
So how did you know her address?
Oh, come on... You were seen, sitting there, inside her car.
I was delivering chocolates, OK?! And flowers!
Jesus! It's breaking and entering. You cannot break into someone's car
and deliver gifts just when you feel like it, Mr Skinner!
It's a very romantic thing to do...
you know.
I've seen it on the telly.
Sometimes when you meet someone, there's a special charge. Oh, Grace, please! Is that how it was with you?
That's how it was! If you'd seen her again, she might have remembered. Come on!
Listen to her!
CLEARS HIS THROAT
OK, um...
I made a mistake. I, um...
I overdid it.
I couldn't stop thinking about her.
Well, you can't blame me for trying...
but I...
I didn't hurt her.
I wouldn't.
And after that copper came round to my place, I left her alone.
What copper?
He accused me of breaking into her flat. I wouldn't do that! I just left chocolates and flowers in her car.
Did this copper show you his ID? No, he said it was an unofficial visit.
His number?
Rank? Come on, you know about this stuff.
Sergeant. How did this sergeant know your address?
Because I rang Debbie at the community centre.
She never normally took my calls, but she did after the chocolates.
She said she was just going to come round and talk, so I gave her my address.
I cooked a cracking dinner.
Pie...everything.
This is all lies, isn't it, Michael?
The kiss, the dance...
You would have liked it to have happened, wouldn't you?
I wasn't...doing anyone any harm.
Have you...?
Have you never had a fantasy?
You're a liar if you say you haven't. All of you!
Why can't you let us just have a dance and a kiss, eh?
I mean, who knows where it could have led, you know.
It's just...a kiss...
..and, er...
..and it's in my head.
But, er...
you won't even let me have that... will you?
No.
I can't find any record of a visit to Skinner's address by a sergeant.
We've cross-referenced every station in the area. He's a compulsive liar.
What's this police thing about? Power trip boosts his self-esteem.
But if he'd taken Debbie's medal, you'd have found it. We've searched his flat.
He's a police freak. He's got books on how to dispose of bodies, he sent the e-mail. What more do we need?
Evidence. We've got to make this stand up in court. Let him go. Put him under 24-hour surveillance.
I want to know when that creep blows his nose. OK.
Boyd... I'm late. I'm on TV. I've got a result.
The DNA profile for the foetus. That's fantastic!
I can find out the father's DNA from this, right?
Well, it's not that simple, but basically, yeah.
If we run this up on the police DNA database, we can see what comes up.
I can't do that! Coppers have affairs with coppers.
But I couldn't use the police DNA database for this. It's illegal. It's an angle I need to cover.
Coppers only volunteer their DNA because we promise them they won't be tested. Who's gonna know?
Have you asked the DAC? No! Exactly.
It's a big lead. I need to pursue it.
Not at the cost of my career. It's categorically unfair of you. Please!
Please, I have got to, Frankie. Go and make your TV appeal.
Have you seen this?
Aagh!
"How I got under the covers with Debbie Britten,"
by Michael bloody Skinner!
HUBBUB OF REPORTERS
Hello, everybody!
BARRAGE OF QUESTIONS
Yes, mate, she was fantastic in bed!
INAUDIBLE
'The Metropolitan Police say they are closer to finding a suspect on the Debbie Britten murder investigation.
'In charge of the inquiry, Deputy Assistant Commissioner Christie is joined by DS Boyd.
'We are missing vital information. Debbie Britten's body must have been taken from her flat.
'Someone must have seen something.
'Anything you tell us will be in strictest confidence.
'If you have any information...'
that will help us catch Debbie Britten's killer, please come forward.
Spence, wait!
Sorry.
It's OK, Spence, it wasn't him.
God, it's freezing!
Doesn't your newspaper have an office?
Did you bring the money?
Right, how does this work?
I can't tell him, Grace. Don't you understand?
I think you should.
You can't win, really, can you?
Damned if you do and damned if you don't.
He's got to be caught.
Frankie, Frankie, where's Boyd? I can't reach him.
Skinner's given us the slip. Where the hell is he? Where is he?
We're at the same place... where we found Debbie's body.
Yep. Get Boyd.
Boyd!
Hi.
Frankie's on to something. Tell me. Well, it's difficult.
It won't be admissible in court. You and she could be in deep shit.
The police database. I'm not a copper, they can't touch me.
But you must think very carefully. If it helps me nail the bastard... I'd be betraying a confidence. Tell me!
It's not black and white,
but Stephen Maitland can't be eliminated as the father of Debbie's child.
I've just been out for a run.
Come in. Fi will be really pleased to see you. This isn't a social call.
Oh, right. You go through. I'll get a couple of beers.