Hello?
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All right? Yeah. Huh?
Whoa! It's OK.
Mmm... Your turn.
Peggy?
No-one's home. Try another flat.
So you'll be here next week?
Assume that I will be, and if I don't turn up,
take it I ain't coming.
You going to get that?
Have a good week.
Top flat's been empty for years. I'm not sure who currently owns it.
Kieron, by the way. Vidya.
And the banging and cursing noises are Michael.
Welcome to Coulthard Street. Thank you.
Is there a keyholder for that flat? Someone who could let us in?
Or we could knock on Joe's door.
He might have access, although I'm sure he's left by now.
Your first? Yes. Very excited. And nervous.
Be good to have a baby around the place.
Hmm. He's a schoolteacher. Usually gone by this time.
Sorry, I really should... Oh, no, no. That's fine. Go.
Thanks for your help. Welcome. Again.
Any joy? Apparently, it's been empty for a couple of years.
Can't find anyone with a key.
Right. Well, that's it. We're going in.
Hello?
Loft.
Michael?
Go downstairs, babe.
What about golf? Golf? You can see me playing golf? Actually, I can.
Diamond-cut jumper, those silly little socks. You'd look quite natty.
Ah! Too many rules.
And they make you tuck your shirt into your trousers.
Like being at school. No, not golf.
Pottery? And before you laugh, if done correctly it can be quite sexy.
I don't think pottery qualifies as a hobby. Isn't it a craft?
Glass blowing?
I know you're taking the piss but that would at least be interesting.
Tell me we've run out of stairs.
Hi, I'm Helen. I'm the Crime Scene Manager.
DI Len Harper, DS Alice Yapp. One P or two? One.
Two for me, thanks.
Neighbours stumbled on some mummified remains
looking for a water leak.
Female, according to the clothes. Hard to put a date on it.
Anything between two and five years is the current guesstimate.
Flat on the back.
Didn't die in pain.
Heart?
Heart attacks have a tendency to fall forward.
Pills? Lay back to sleep, never wake up.
Yeah, maybe.
OK if I take these?
We've filmed, help yourself.
Back in a tick.
Is it her?
Sorry, er, hello.
Detective Inspector Len Harper. And you are?
Vidya Kahn. Downstairs.
You found the body?
My boyfriend, Michael. We didn't know her, if it's her.
What do you think? 25, 30?
Thereabouts.
It's hard to tell when they're a bit overweight.
Oh, it's a baby.
Oh! Congratulations.
Detective Inspector Len Harper.
Hope I didn't get you out of the bath, Miss...?
Markham. Elaine. And it was a shower.
What's happened?
Er, can I ask you if you've lived here long?
Four years, I guess.
Has anyone occupied flat number five in that time?
There was a girl...Melissa?
Melissa Young?
Is she in some sort of trouble? Cos she left years ago.
Do you remember roughly the last time you saw her?
I know it's early but if you could fire up the old grey matter?
Er, maybe a couple Christmases back.
Kieron downstairs, he had a drinks party. I remember her being there.
After that...
She disappeared?
Kind of.
Oh.
So, she, what? She comes up to the loft for some reason.
Hits her head, unconscious, perhaps dead.
The hatch would be open - no-one found her?
Obscured from view. Someone calls out, she doesn't answer.
They close it up.
What about the smell?
December time? Be cold up here.
No insulation on the roof, quite airy.
Maybe you'd get a whiff of it on the top floor, but nothing below.
Let's make sure we're talking about the right person first.
Hi, it's me. Can you check a missper for me?
Melissa Young. Last known address Flat 5, 8 Coulthard Street.
Thanks.
What've you got?
Mild titillation.
I'll take it outside.
Yeah, hello?
Detective Inspector Len Harper.
What do you want, pig?
Is there a grown-up home?
How do you know this ain't my flat? Well, property prices.
Plus the spots on your chin are a bit of a giveaway.
Who's this?
No-one, I'm dealing with it.
Where's mum and/or dad?
Work.
Can I trust you to pass this on?
Be grateful if they could call me. What's this about?
One of your neighbours discovered human remains in the loft.
A body.
You serious? What, like a murder?
I'm not sure yet.
OK then. Yeah, thanks for that. Cheers.
She wasn't reported missing.
After two years?
How's that possible?
Maybe no-one noticed she was gone.
Hi.
Interesting one.
The afternoon update on the police press line includes
a "seriously decomposed" body in a residential property.
"Seriously decomposed,"
is that a medical term?
I think they meant to say severely.
Sounds gruesome, either way.
Er...
OK. Yeah, I'll play.
Get on it.
You can do it yourself when you get home.
'...was to make sure customers could pay back what they borrow.
'And Rebecca Pike will have more on this at 5:30.'
The police were here?
They stumbled on your dirty little secret, Joe.
The body you stashed in the loft. What are you talking about?
Melissa Ann Young, born June 1980.
Owned the flat outright -
inherited it from her mother, who passed four years ago.
No employment since 2005.
Utility bills all covered by direct debit.
No brothers or sisters but yes to an aunt, deceased,
and a solitary living cousin in Aberdeen.
Very much living alone, then.
Someone must have noticed that she wasn't around any longer.
Ten, twenty years ago perhaps. But today?
No, sorry, I don't buy that.
You can have all the internets and headphones and home shopping you like,
people still interact with one another.
That's not a generational thing, it's human nature.
We've searched online, networking sites and found nothing.
Do we have anything that suggests this is an actual crime scene?
Not without cause of death.
We have mummified remains.
So, sorry to disappoint you
but unless the pathologist comes up with a bullet hole,
it's not a murder, Len.
Why would that disappoint me?
Because you're looking for an excuse to extend your leaving date.
Oh, no, Len, please, please don't leave -
not until you have solved this case for us.
Sorry, who is that even supposed to be?
Damn thing!
Thank you.
Evening, Joe.
Is it true?
They found a body?
Apparently so.
Awful business. What was her name again?
Melissa.
Of course, Melissa.
I often wondered what happened to her.
Met the new lot yet?
No. Er...I'd call round, but dinner's on.
Are they nice? Yeah, I've only seen her.
She's pregnant. Interesting.
With any luck that might be enough to drive the lesbians away.
Peg, it's me.
Where the hell are you? It's dark.
Call me back, will you?
Let me know what time you'll be home.
Why didn't you spin it? Washing machine's spraying water.
Everything's shit! Nothing works properly.
Oi...
have a lie down, I'll finish that.
I can't - no bed.
That was my next job.
Whoa!
Hilarious!
Bad taste? Yeah, a little bit.
Little bit.
You look good in a mask.
I mean... No, that didn't sound right.
So...who was she?
No-one really.
I moved in here a few months before she left.
Well, although...
..apparently she didn't...
leave. But it's not really a story.
A neighbour decomposes in your loft for two years
and that's not even worth half a page?
No, it's tragic. It is sad.
But I just... I wouldn't say it's of public interest.
Tell me this isn't what I think it is.
That depends what you think it is.
Are you worried about
property prices, by any chance?
Erm...
All right, well, that's not the reason I don't want to run it.
But if we, if we did and it goes online,
if we ever looked for a house together, you know, a decent one,
your place and this place combined...
..we'd need as much as we could get.
You do realise that this is bordering on commitment?
Well, I'd hate for you to die old and alone.
It's good of you to come in, Mr Sellers.
I would've been happy to come out and visit you at a convenient time.
I'm on my way to work, it's not a problem.
Oh, what's your profession?
Teacher. Maths.
I'm more on the English side, myself,
different side of the brain, apparently.
Some people can do both, not many.
If we can wrap this up in 20 minutes,
I could still make assembly.
How long have you lived at number 8?
15 years.
Oh, so you first met Melissa when she moved in. That was 2008?
Thereabouts. I knew her mother before then.
That's right.
She inherited the flat.
I didn't have much time for the daughter.
How about your wife? Sorry, are you married?
No. I live alone.
Did Melissa have many visitors to the flat?
I'm in the basement, she was at the very top.
If she had company then I...
wouldn't have heard them.
You must've seen her coming and going with people. Friends.
Not that I can remember.
In three years?
All that time and no-one even presses her buzzer?
Perhaps no-one liked her.
That's quite a harsh statement, Mr Sellers.
Why? Because we're not supposed to speak ill of the dead?
I didn't like the girl!
And I don't see why I should pretend that I did just because she's gone.
I think everybody would agree that the house is greatly improved by her absence.
The problem we have here is that there's literally
nothing to work with.
After a month of swelling the gases build up
and the body just bursts open.
Everything on the inside ends up on the floor.
Gross.
Entry wounds will typically be found in the stomach area,
but as you can see that's where she popped.
So she could've been stabbed?
Possible.
There's no bullet so she wasn't shot.
Strangled?
Again, possible. There's no eyeballs to determine suffocation.
We know she hit her head.
I had a good look but there's nothing on the skull.
It might have cut her but it didn't crack her.
She was also on a repeat prescription for alprazolam.
Four milligrams.
Depression?
Anxiety. You can't really OD on it
but mixed with a lot of alcohol it could get you into trouble.
Can we find out what was in her system?
No soft tissue, no toxicology report.
Unless you can find something at the scene to steer me,
I'm not going to be able to tell the coroner very much.
Hold the door!
Cheers.
Mr Sellers?
That's right.
Michael Jenson.
St John's Secondary - you taught me in 2003.
Oh, yes, yes. Michael, hello.
How the hell are you, sir?
I'm very well, thank you.
And you? Are you, you delivering something?
I live here.
We just moved in. Second floor.
Oh. Welcome.
You got the garden flat?
That's so cool.
We really wanted a garden flat but they're rare as rocking horse shit.
Guess I'll just have to play my music so loud it drives you out.
There's that face.
Oh, I remember that face.
I'm just screwing with you, sir. Er, Mr Sellers. Joe.
Which one is it?
Whatever makes you most comfortable, Michael.
See you around, Joe.
Knock if you need anything, yeah?
I'm home.
Right, nightclub shooting.
OK, we've got the same three names coming up time and time again now.
I don't want to pull anyone in
until we're done with the witness interviews,
so that means cracking on with them all day.
If we need extra resources, we can ask for them.
Let's just keep the pace up.
Right, any other business?
Melissa Young?
It's the body in the loft.
I thought we were handing that back to uniform.
Still feels a bit unanswered to me.
Most likely scenario right now is a suicide.
If you're going up into the loft to kill yourself,
you carry a length of rope, don't you?
She was on anti-depressants.
Then she should've been feeling better.
What does the pathologist think?
Well, he can't point us either way.
I just think it's worth having another look in the flat.
Maybe she died there and was moved up to the loft.
If we can prove that, we have a murder.
Did you see the picture of her?
Len, this woman was not carried up a ladder.
I still think there's a little work to do before we shut it down.
I haven't spoken to all the neighbours yet.
Len, you're retiring, it's your last day.
No-one's going to give you anything else to do.
So you can either, I don't know,
go out and buy everyone a nice tray of cup cakes,
or you can scratch your head over this till five o'clock.
It's your choice.
Er, Moss? Flat 2?
Yeah, yeah, that's right.
Detective Inspector Len Harper.
I gave my card to your son, I think.
It's about Melissa Young.
Why don't you go ahead? I'll see you there.
You sure?
Yeah, you go on.
Come on in, Detective.
Have you been here long?
August 2010.
I separated from my wife and I needed somewhere with two bedrooms.
I have a son, Adam, he was 14 at the time.
So you knew Melissa then?
She was very much around when you moved in.
I met her a few times.
Erm, she was quite shy.
Did you ever see anyone with her? Friend? A boyfriend?
Not that I remember.
I'm afraid I'm not the most sociable of people either.
You know, I work, I come home, I go back to work.
You live to work or work to live. Isn't that the saying?
Something like that.
Do you ever go in the loft, Mr Moss?
The loft? Hmm.
I rarely venture beyond the ground floor.
I used to be a crime correspondent.
Dealt with your guys all the time. Cynical bunch.
Usually a lot younger than you, though. No disrespect.
None taken.
So you must be treating this as a murder.
Whenever there's a body, we get called out.
But, I mean, if there's no evidence, no suspicious circumstances,
don't you then pass it on?
Only when I'm satisfied.
Hello?
Oh, it's you, Detective.
There was a locksmith here earlier, they fixed the lock.
I have the new keys. Could I leave you one?
Always good to have a key-holder on site.
Of course.
Come on up.
What are you looking for?
I'm not sure, if I'm honest.
You know what's missing?
A computer.
Young woman, living alone, no computer.
Does that sound right?
I don't know. Maybe not.
She's got one of those boxes, though,
the things that give you Wifi?
A router?
There's no,
no mobile phone.
Which makes it hard to find anyone who even knew her.
I wish I could help you, but we only moved in this week.
That's right, of course you did. Who did you buy from?
That's his email and Skype address. He lives in Canada now.
My dad dealt with it all but I think he spoke to him
a couple of times, when he bought the flat.
Richard Webb.
Thank you,
very helpful.
How much longer?
Eight weeks. If it's on time.
How many do you have?
Kids? None. We never did.
My wife, she died last year.
Not that we were still trying. Too old.
I'm sorry about that.
Could I impose on you for another five minutes?
I have an experiment I want to try.
Help!
There you are. Give me your car keys.
Come on, quickly.
You're coming with me.
Just so I know.
This is the bit where you drive me to some godawful pub
where everyone's waiting to pour drinks down me
and say insulting things in a good humoured way. Yes?
Yes.
Come on, sunshine.
Get the old man a chair before he puts an 'ip out. Come on, mate.
Tah dah!
Mind your heads.
Oh, thank you. I wasn't expecting anything.
Yeah, yeah, yeah! Just open it, you old tosser.
Oh, wow. It's a bow and arrow.
Yeah, we booked you a set of lessons so you can't duck out of it.
OK. I guess I'm going to be an archer.
Len Harper, everybody.
The oldest bastard I ever worked with.
Promise me, you won't hand this back.
Something happened up there.
Someone did that to her.
C'mon.
Look after yourself, Len.
Michael!
I told you we're not supposed to hang it out there.
What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a ghost.
Liz Fletcher.
Luckily they spared me the stripper.
Probably thought I was so old it would've killed me.
Remember that stripper at your leaving do?
She was uncomfortable.
You know, didn't fancy the idea of stripping in a bar full of coppers.
Who would?
Hey, Alex.
Uncle Lenny. Hey. How's Dad?
Oh, pretty good. All considered.
Are you going in?
Yeah, just waiting for Mum.
She thinks he likes to see us together.
I'm sure she's right.
Can you help me out with something here?
Why would someone not have a personal profile on the web?
Loads of reasons.
Data privacy.
Anonymity.
Dodgy past.
Lack of mates.
Wouldn't that be a way to make friends?
Nobody makes friends online.
It's just a place to show them off.
Interesting.
Is this a work thing?
No, no. Just looking to, you know, reach out and...
I'll be your friend.
Careful, I might take you up on that.
It must be the new people in my parking spot.
We're out of black pepper. I put it on the list.
Pick up the phone. Coward.
Pick it up and talk to me.
Alice.
Jesus, Len! What are you doing creeping up on me?
That wasn't creeping.
You came out of nowhere in a creeping fashion.
Sorry. What do you want?
Melissa Young. There's something I forgot to...
We've handed it over to uniform.
Already? Uniform are just going to ignore it.
If they've got any sense, yeah.
No-one's going to kick up a fuss about this woman.
Right. Well, if you think that's...
You've left the force. You shouldn't really be here, Len.
You know that? Right?
You're retired.
Sorry.
Hello?
Mr Webb? My name's Len Harper.
Apologies for contacting you out of the blue like this.
You formerly lived at flat 4, number 8, Coulthard Street.
Is that correct?
Are you a cop or a lawyer?
Is it that obvious?
"Formerly lived at"?
People don't actually talk like that.
32 years' service with the force.
But no accusations, I promise.
It's regarding a former,
sorry, ex-neighbour of yours, Melissa Young.
Yeah, Mel?
What about her?
I'm afraid she's passed.
Christ.
Sorry, one second.
When? I mean, what, what happened?
Well, that's proving a bit tricky to determine at the moment.
I spoke to some of the other residents in the block, but,
they couldn't offer much help.
Yeah, I bet.
Why do you say that?
They're not what you'd call a friendly bunch.
As far as I was concerned, they were the reason she moved out.
I'm not so sure she ever did move out, Mr Webb.
Her remains were discovered in the loft.
She'd been there for quite a while.
What was she doing up there?
Well, that's what I was hoping you could help me.
Did anyone ever have reason to go up there?
No.
Well, every once in a while
someone would try and store bits and pieces up there,
but Joe always put a stop to that.
Joe?
Sellers. Basement flat. Son of a bitch.
Open your window too wide and he'd stick a note through your door.
He and Kieron had a bust-up over the loft.
Kieron Moss? Ground floor?
Yeah he, er, moved in with a tonne of stuff,
he had no room for half of it, so he chucked it up in the eaves.
But him and Joe almost came to blows over it.
They got to the brink of court action and everything.
Did Melissa have any friends in the area that you knew of?
Relationship? Regular visitors?
She wasn't what you'd call outgoing.
If you talked to her on the stairs, she was lovely.
She'd invite you in, do anything for you.
But she wouldn't exactly, what's the word?
She wouldn't initiate anything.
Do you know what I mean by that?
I think I'm beginning to understand.
Miss Khan.
Detective Harper.
I'm sorry to bother you
but I appear to have come out without the keys for Melissa's flat.
That's OK, you can use mine.
Moving in?
Kind of, yeah. For a bit.
You're not Mary's daughter, by any chance?
Melissa. Yeah.
Hi, I'm Richard.
Hi.
I know she'll be pleased to see you.
Mum?
What are you playing at, Len?
Hello?
Come on!
Oi, come back here!
We all present an image to the world.
Most of us smile and say everything's fine when people ask,
especially when it's not.
I'm sorry if we can't help you any further.
I didn't want to threaten anybody.
It all got out of hand.
What if it was someone from here?
From one of the flats?
Why would one of her neighbours want to kill her?
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