"So, what are we looking at?" "Two gunshots to the head." "One." "Point of entry left eye." "And exit... yeah, rear lower right." "Right ear still intact." "I don't think we're supposed to touch the body." "My world... my rules..." "Huh, that's interesting." "What?" "What if he'd been shot, say, from the front passenger seat, all the splatter would be over the rear window." "Whereas, in fact... it's pretty much all around him down here." "So?" "So, given the body position and the line of travel," "I'd say that our friend here took this bullet while he was seated... there." "And while he was looking up at whoever shot him." "And whoever shot him was standing... roughly... where you are now." "Great." "Which would make this shot the second." "As his head fell away." "Entry lower left jaw and exit... yeah... middle right cheek." "But not before it bust up all the crockery, eh?" "Oh, Harvey, you should have taken better care of your teeth." "So, two fast shots." "Probably more in the body but we'll let the brush-up boys find them, eh?" "So, do you want the good news?" "This one's not for us." "Why?" "Why?" "I'm sorry, look like a lovers' tiff to you, does it?" "Robbery." "It could be anything." "Did you check for his wallet?" "It's a contract." "Trust me." "And when it's a contract..." "Mazeltov!" "What are you doing?" "Well, if it was a robbery, he wouldn't have got far with these." "They're all out of date." "What?" "Credit cards." "All expired." "Harvey Wratten." "Harvey Wratten." "I've heard that name..." "Yeah, right..." "Put it back." "What?" "I told you, this one's not for us." "So... put it back." "Where did you find it?" "Left side, inside breast pocket." "You see, the truth, Constable," "the truth, it's like lightning." "Always follows the line of least resistance." "So, what we do, the trick is simple." "All we have to do is find the line and then follow it back up." "And whatever it is," "it's all gonna be sorted within 24 hours." "All neat and tidy." "99% of the time." "But with this..." "With what I see here, well, you try and find the line on something like this and all it's gonna do is fur up your arteries so thick you'll think you're a fucking werewolf!" "So... we just pass it on and then we step right out of the picture." "Because whoever it is has to pick up this sorry rag of rope, it'll sure as shit be the death of them." "Oh, yeah." "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "All right?" "Sure you want to do this?" "Gabriel." "Excuse me, sir, if I could just..." "What?" "Take another look." "Really?" "Yes, please, sir." "Don't be stupid, I just told you who he is." "With the greatest of respect, madam, just because you say it doesn't necessarily make it so." "What?" "!" "It's all about connection, isn't it?" "Not just process." "Oh, that's clever." "You're very clever." "Isn't he clever?" "There is another word beginning with C that also comes to mind." "Want to know what it is?" "I'll give you a clue." "It sounds exactly like the first syllable in country." "Does that help?" "All right, here you go." "Yes, sir, it's the photo, it doesn't really look like you." "Huh." "Well, I've been out of circulation for a while." "Maybe it's an old ID." "Time to get a new one then, sir." "I'll make it a priority." "Thank you, sir." "No, thank you, CUNTstable." "So what is this place?" "Private car park for a bowls club." "He went bowling?" "It's closed this time of year." "Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah." "Looks like it is him, though." "Why?" "Cos it's his car?" "Registered to his home address." "Taxed, too." "Interesting, considering where he's been." "Gloves, please." "And how long he's been there." "Family?" "No-one close." "Except for his nephew." "And we all know where he's been to." "Friends?" "Bloke like that, I'm sure he had millions." "And, clearly... at least one enemy." "Driver's missing." "OK." "And there's no prints been left on the wheel." "Gabriel." "Didn't expect to see you back so soon." "Touch-and-go I was going to make it back at all." "Huh, yeah." "Usually, I get to see a man with a bullet in his head, I'm looking at... him." "Yeah, it's him." "It's Harvey Wratten." "Who's Harvey Wratten?" "'A convicted drug smuggler was released from jail today 'in circumstances described as extremely unusual." "'Two years ago, Harvey Wratten, '62, and alleged head of one of the UK's largest crime organisations, 'was sentenced to 18 years in jail 'for his part in importing over 200kg...' That's Harvey." "What's he doing on telly?" "He's just got out of prison." "'His nephew, Jay Wratten, 28, was also sentenced to five years 'on a lesser charge of conspiracy to supply." "'However, both Wrattens have today been released 'under the Royal Prerogative of Mercy, 'a form of pardon that is so rare 'only the Justice Secretary can grant it." "'The actual circumstances surrounding the pardon have not been made public, 'but, according to legal analysts, speculation is centring around recent significant breakthroughs 'made by the authorities in the so-called War Against Drugs.'" "Doesn't she have funny teeth?" "Why would they give a job to a woman like that?" "I don't know." "Are you going to see him?" "Yeah." "Tomorrow." "Tomorrow." "Yes." "And will he...?" "What?" "I can't remember." "It's..." "It's the phone, it's distracting me." "Where are you going?" "To answer it." "What?" "The phone." "But you're coming back?" "Of course." "Straight back." "Yeah." "Yeah, I've just seen it on the news." "No, I'll be there." "Kirsten?" "It's Joseph." "I'm sorry to call you so late." "Can you come and be with Julie?" "I have to go out." "Thanks." "Get me out of here!" "You all right, Jay?" "Yeah..." "Yeah." "It's just the, er... distance." "Yeah." "You know?" "Yeah, I know." "You spent two years in a 14ft square, and suddenly the whole world's in front of you." "I left my phone." "Wait here." "Don't move." "OK?" "'Fifth floor, doors opening.'" "Are you trying to say something?" "You mean you don't get it?" "What's to get?" "A free pardon, boy." "Isn't that what you and your uncle just got?" "And to get that, you must've been squealing like a pig near a stun gun." "Have you seen anyone get arrested?" "Not yet." "Not ever." "Then why did they let you out?" "Ah... well..." "That would be telling, wouldn't it?" "So, not a pig." "That's right." "Then some kind of a snake." "'Doors closing." "'Doors opening." "'Doors closing." "'Ground floor." "'Doors opening.'" "'Fifth floor." "Doors opening.'" "Shit!" "It's all right." "I know him." "He's one of Bob Harris's." "We do not need trouble." "It wasn't me went looking for it." "I thought you were ill!" "I'm better in dark corners." "Shit!" "You left it in the car." "Oh, no, Mo." "Who's in trouble now, eh?" "Harvey's dead!" "Someone shot him!" "Who did it?" "No-one knows." "Right now, no-one knows much." "Who... did... it?" "No-one knows, Jay." "No-one knows anything." "Well, fucking find out!" "I'm sure that's going to happen." "But if you just calm down..." "Don't tell me what to do." "You never tell me what to do!" "You're not my fucking uncle!" "Fuck!" "Not now, Jay." "Not here." "What the..." "He just gave us the heads-up on Harvey." "He's done us a favour." "A favour?" "A tom-tit?" "The press don't know yet." "No-one knows yet." "And thanks to him, we have a couple of hours before they do." "Who did it?" "I don't know, young man." "But the twists your uncle's been turning of late," "I'm only surprised he didn't shoot himself." "Oh, that's right." "Let him see you." "Let him get a really good look." "What's that?" "Nose bleed." "Pete, get Jay a tissue." "He appears to have scraped his knuckles." "You want to get some Dettol on that." "While I, er..." "sort out the sergeant." "Envelope." "Piece of paper." "Please." "You're not used to this, are you?" "And I'm not looking to get familiar, either." "So who do I talk to from now on?" "Same person you talked to before." "Yeah, but who am I looking out for?" "You?" "Me?" "I'm just a flower man, Sergeant." "So I see." "So... what else are you looking to bring in?" "Fruits, vegetables, you name it." "Something with a little more BITE?" "Or were you waiting on Harvey to set up that particular shipment?" "And what are you going to do now he's dead?" "Here." "Sweetest apple you'll ever taste." "It's still a cut-fruit business, though, isn't it, eh?" "I mean, whatever way you look at it." "Be sure to take some home for your wife." "Oh, dear!" "Oh!" "Sorry, that's a bit tart." "I don't think she's going to like them." "I'd prefer it if you could just post her that." "Me and Prince Charles, we can't carry cash." "Glickman." "You're looking out for Glickman." "Is he your boss now?" "Like I said, I'm just the, er, flower man." "Peachy." "So what are we looking at?" "Wratten's trial notes." "Bullshit!" "That's two years ago." "It's tonight I want to know about." "There's two ways of doing that, sir." "One's to look at his body, the other's to look at his past." "And what have you found?" "A man with an annual turnover of 200 million." "About the same as Arsenal Football Club." "We're in the wrong game." "Here we go." "Huh!" "That's new." "What?" "You never used to hold the door." "I can't smoke in here, can I?" "No, sir." "It's against the law." "Shit." "Shit!" "So, Harvey Wratten." "Regular captain of industry, eh?" "Yes." "If the narcotic import trade was legal." "So what?" "When he went down, the whole thing went down." "He'd have planned for that." "Going down?" "In his world, isn't that inevitable?" "Wow!" "You really think you're that good?" "Amongst themselves." "Ah!" "So does this now mean you're suggesting a relationship between criminality and Darwinian theory?" "Yeah, if you like." "Not really, but I'm happy to take the opportunity to show you that I, too, had a private school education." "It's what they do though, sir." "Kill each other?" "Evolve." "Into what?" "Patterson." "Well, last time into an electrical import business." "He got busted trying to bring it in inside the wiring." "No." "No." "I'll call you back." "There you go - "he got busted"." "Not exactly king-of-the-jungle stuff." "But the bets are, he'll have spent the last two years working out the best way to reinvent himself." "You mean like charity work?" "No!" "You know what I mean." "Fronts." "Fronts." "Somewhere out there, there'll be a new business." "Nothing with his name on, nothing we can trace." "All taxed, all completely legitimate, and all just so Harvey Wratten can open himself up a brand-new line and regain his crown." "And precisely how does getting himself killed play into that?" "I don't know." "Maybe when someone else decided now's the time to take it off him." "Where's Glickman?" "They called him just before they called you." "What did he say?" "Nothing." "Just "thanks"." "No." "Not Glickman." "Him and Harvey, two heads on the same coin." "Then maybe someone's trying to cut them both off." "Jay Wratten?" "The nephew?" "I don't think so." "It was him that got caught trying to bring in the wiring on their last run." "200 kilos Turkish brown." "Customs had a shadow on it, and when Jay realised, he ran straight to his uncle." "A literal home run." "For the other side." "So I doubt he's going to get himself picked as the new team captain." "But whoever is could be looking to get rid of him pretty quick." "Why did the boy have blood on his hands?" "He had a run-in with a man in a lift." "Who?" "One of Bob Harris's." "How did it happen?" "I, er..." "I left him on his own for a couple of minutes, nothing more." "Oh, Maurice!" "Yeah, well, maybe I'm getting too old for this." "Who started it?" "Pete." "Take Jay out of town for a couple of days." "Everything cash." "I'm not going anywhere." "Yes, you are." "No, I'm not." "Feels like I've been away too long already." "He's just trying to steady the boat." "And we don't need you jumping all over it." "We'll have to see what Glickman says about that." "Yeah, we will." "But until he turns up, we need you out of town." "He's right, Jay." "Step out the picture, just for a few days." "Somebody tries to knock you out, we're really in trouble." "It better be five star!" "Three." "Get in touch with Harris." "Tell him we want to meet." "I've sent someone out to Glickman's house." "How come Harvey was driving home alone?" "He wasn't." "What?" "He was picked up." "Who by?" "We don't know yet." "Andy Dixon." "Who?" "They worked at the car firm." "They'd Harvey's car in the garage and put him in it to go and pick him up." "Could he be the one who shot him?" "Little Andy?" "No." "He's just a kid." "He's a good driver but he's a nervous little bugger, uses a puffer." "No prints on the steering wheel and no wipe smears." "So, you got to wonder why he wore gloves." "Andy Dixon." "Didn't he get picked up recently?" "Last year." "Possession with intent." "We spun it on personal use." "He got off on a warning." "We're requesting the tapes of the prison car park where Wratten got picked up." "He'll turn up." "Playing video nasties with your mates is one thing, but seeing your boss's brains all over the back seat?" "That's something else." "No, it was the shock made him run." "Doesn't look good for him, though, does it?" "Got to be top of the list?" "I'm not sure Wratten was shot from inside the vehicle." "Why?" "Well, body position and the rear-left door was open, so it looks like the killer was outside it." "We haven't had pathology on that yet." "So?" "The driver just got up and walked round." "If you're in the vehicle, why not stay there?" "Less noise, less chance of being seen." "Maybe he wasn't thinking straight." "Then why no casings?" "Seven shots." "More than a revolver and no casings." "Whoever shot him had the presence of mind to pick them up." "But she said the driver was wearing gloves." "Seems he had the mind to do that, too." "Doesn't feel right." "That your "feeling", is it, Jonah?" "Yes, sir." "It is." "OK." "You got a desk over here yet?" "Yes." "You do realise Harvey Wratten just got himself a Royal Pardon?" "Yeah." "How?" "Seems he gave Customs the nod on a number of drug drops." "Big fuckers." "Whose?" "They don't know." "And the truth is, we don't need to." "I think I might." "Oh?" "Are you really going to open that one up?" "Yeah, if necessary." "Words like "royal" and "pardon"?" "They're already out there." "But I don't think Her Majesty shot him, do you?" "I don't know." "Look, people like Harvey Wratten, they get thrown into a vipers' pit - who gives a shit which one it was actually bit him?" "He's dead!" "Thank fuck for that." "In fact, whoever's done it has done us a favour." "One less to deal with." "Sir... you asking me to ring-fence this one?" "Absolutely not." "I'm asking you to take it carefully, because that's what we do when we go near a snake pit." "That's our job, though, innit?" "Getting bitten?" "Jumping in." "Tomorrow will be a shark fest for the press, but if we give them nothing, by the end of the week they'll have eaten each other out and there'll be nothing left on the sea bed but a big pile of stilettos" "and a few strips of shiny nylon suit." "You follow?" "I'm not sure THEY will." "You'll be surprised." "One step at a time, Gabriel." "One careful step at a time." "Oh..." "I hear you're off to see DS Delaney's parents tomorrow." "That's right, sir." "With the new commander." "Yeah." "Chance to, er... to draw a line under the past, right?" "And no..." "It doesn't...?" "No." "Well, it's a..." "It's a hell of a thing you've been through." "Still, all the more reason just to go into this one at a gentle trot, eh." "No sudden moves..." "Particularly for a man in your condition." "I'm more than capable of doing my job, sir." "Oh, believe me, Jonah, that's what I'm banking on." "Find that driver." "It's all right, I believe you." "It's OK." "I didn't mean to frighten you." "It's OK." "But if Andy calls you, tell him to contact Joseph Bede." "That's me." "I work with Harvey, and I'm the man he needs to speak to." "You tell him to do it right away." "Is he in trouble?" "That's what I need to find out." "Joseph Bede." "He must call me." "Bob." "You lost something?" "Not unless you've found it." "I would have come to see you." "I like keeping mobile." "Get in." "You ever smoke?" "No." "Well, giving it up, it's murder." "I'm getting lock-jaw I chew so much." "Is your man all right?" "He won't be worrying his wife with any more children, if that's what you mean." "I heard it was him that started it." "Your boy's a hair trigger." "He's not my boy." "Either way, a gun like him, you should lock it in a cupboard." "I'll deal with it." "Shit!" "So, Joseph..." "I've heard a rumour." "Harvey's dead." "Who did it?" "Where's Glickman?" "He'll be here." "He should be here already." "It's him I should be talking to." "He'll be here." "I'm due to make a large purchase off you people." "I know." "And you will." "But it was Glickman who set up the deal, and with him disappeared and Harvey dead, who am I supposed to be buying from?" "Some lunatic kid in a cupboard?" "I don't fucking think so." "I'll look into it." "Look quick." "You leave a party, Joseph, sooner or later someone else will take your seat." "Where's Glickman?" "Not at the house." "It's empty." "Call him." "We have." "Call him again." "That's what we keep trying." "Nothing." "Mobile's dead." "I was this close." "He'll turn up." "This close." "I'm sorry." "So what has just happened?" "We're exploring a number of possibilities." "But is it safe to assume that the Green Lawn Bowls and Croquet Club is not amongst them?" "We do not believe this incident to be being bowling related." "Tanya..." "Yes, Ross." "Thanks." "Jonah Gabriel, um, welcome back." "You're fully recovered, I hope?" "Unfortunately, I still remember you, so maybe not." "Ho-ho-ho." "Do you have a question, Ross?" "Yeah." "What was Wratten doing there?" "We're not sure yet." "Was it a professional hit?" "Or..." "Well, if you're asking if someone was paid to do it, we don't know." "But I'm assuming gang related." "We don't know." "Does it look that way?" "Or..." "We... don't... no." "Michelle?" "Do you think the killing is connected to his release?" "He wouldn't have been there if he hadn't have been freed." "You think it's related to his release." "No..." "No, we are most definitely not saying that." "My colleague was merely making a statement of fact." "Why was Harvey Wratten pardoned?" "That's one for the Justice Dept." "Roger?" "We are unable to offer you details... except to make clear that we are aware both of the huge significance of the pardon and the enormity of what is required for its qualification." "Wratten assisted the authorities in the war against drugs?" "Yes." "A war that is ongoing and, as such, by necessity, the strategies we undertake to fight it must remain secure." "You're not winning it, are you, this war?" "No, but we are still fighting it." "And it's my people on the front line doing it, because that's our job - to keep you safe." "So you have the freedom to sit and wonder if we're doing it right." "Was Harvey Wratten a grass?" "Super-grass." "And is that why he was shot?" "I see no reason to connect the two events." "I mean, even if you drew your last breath on the Titanic, you still woke up that morning to a beautiful day." "Sorry - how does that help?" "I think a little poetry always helps lift the soul, don't you?" "Why was Harvey Wratten pardoned?" "I think Roger's already answered that question." "But, surely, it's in the public interest for them to know." "Them?" "Yeah." "You no longer a member of the public, Mr McGovern?" "You better keep an eye on your colleague - he obviously thinks he's royalty!" "Yes." "Well, OK." "For us, then." "When the operation is concluded, the details of its actions will be made public." "When will that be?" "Ross, if he could tell you that, he'd be a headline act in Las Vegas." "Yes?" "I'm a bit puzzled." "Sorry." "Cos I've been doing a bit of digging and, um..." "We all know how you like to dig." "Well, it's my job - public servant, and all that." "Then why don't you just join a graveyard?" "Maybe I will." "I'd like to know where the bodies are buried." "There's a word for that." "In fact, there's a law against it." "Not that I'm aware of, but I'm sure that wouldn't stop you from bending the rules." "Ooh!" "If you've got a point to make, make it." "OK." "My point is this..." "It appears that there have only been a handful of such pardons granted by the British Government in the last couple of decades, and the overwhelming majority of those were for members of the Irish paramilitary forces, and were therefore seen as political." "Now, is THIS political?" "Are you asking me to comment on the entire history of Anglo-Irish relations?" "No." "I'm just asking for a comment on the political dynamic of this..." "this kind of pardon." "No comment." "Sorry, can I clarify?" "Is that a no comment on a statement of fact?" "Ross, move it on." "You know you won't be given an answer to that." "Yes, I can see that." "Are we going to get an answer to anything today?" "I'd certainly put a fiver on Arsenal for the weekend." "Thank you all very much indeed." "Why do I feel like I've just been at a weigh-in?" "Sir?" "That journalist." "He door-stepped my wife when I was in the hospital." "He wouldn't leave her alone." "She lost a baby." "Ah." "Loosen those lids, Jonah, you'll make your eyeballs go dry." "I haven't seen Mr Glickman in over a month." "You're his book-keeper." "Only for here." "He'll have a hundred others doing exactly the same everywhere else and we wouldn't even know each other at his funeral." "We wouldn't even be invited." "That's the way he ran things." "And it's obviously the way he ran you, too, or you wouldn't need to ask." "Jay!" "You're not supposed to be here." "It's funny." "I've been getting that feeling quite a lot recently." "It's for your own benefit." "Mine?" "Or yours?" "Did you just rough that bloke up?" "No need." "I would have." "I know you would." "You're too loud, Jay." "And people like us, we're not supposed to be heard." "Ever." "Harvey was my uncle." "That doesn't make you my boss." "How come you're the one with your hand on the wheel?" "I spent two years setting my business up." "It's not Harvey's, it's mine." "Boxed, packaged and taxed." "That's the way he wanted it, because that way people don't know where to look." "Yeah, but you still work for him, don't you?" "You're just a front, no matter how it looks." "And I've had to invest everything I own to do it, every penny, so unless you want to pay me back right now, I'm in it... up to here." "How much?" "1.5 million." "I'm not going anywhere." "And you can't make me." "Then turn yourself down." "Understand?" "Go and see Glickman's family." "He's got a son, an accountant, Winchmore Hill." "If he goes with you, he goes on mute." "Where are you going?" "I've got a hospital appointment." "Oh, yeah." "Cracking up already, are you?" "For my wife!" "Ooh..." "What about Little Andy?" "Yeah!" "What about Little Andy?" "'What do you mean, I never used to hold the door for anyone?" "You didn't.'" "You were always too busy steaming ahead to look behind you." "That's a bad thing?" "Couldn't say, sir." "You're the inspector." "I'm just your sergeant." "There!" "Just a kid." "Well, 20, 22." "Old enough." "You've got a clear shot of the eyes there." "Run a facial ID." "You know what?" "That hadn't occurred to me!" "Already on it." "There's no distinguishing features, so it'll take time." "Tax disc?" "It wasn't purchased near Wratten's house so we're running footage from around the post office in which it was." "If the car was being garaged, we may get a fix on where it was being kept." "Good." "Where are you going?" "Delaney's family." "Oh." "Why?" "The new commander." "It's his idea." "What are you going to say to them?" "Nothing that will help." "When did Mr Glickman call you?" "Last night." "It was late." "We were in bed." "What exactly did he say?" "That he was going to have to disappear for a while." "Something had happened to your boss and he was afraid the same might happen to him." "Where would he go?" "I don't know." "I DON'T know." "But he's your father." "So what?" "He won't go anywhere anyone can find him, not if he doesn't want to be found." "He's that kind of man." "What kind of man?" "He compartmentalises." "He what?" "He puts things in boxes... you, me, everything... and only he knows how they all connect." "Which one are you in?" "Me?" "I'm in the one marked "knows nothing"." "I'm just a high-street accountant." "I have never worked for my father, and he made sure I never did, because he knew that one day someone like you would come calling, and when you did, I'd have nothing to say." "What about you?" "Me?" "Which box are you in?" "What?" "Policemen?" "No, no." "They'd make more of an effort." "Get in." "Let them follow." "Then do exactly as I say." "What the fuck do you want?" "We want our fucking money." "So, what are we looking at?" "No, I'd like to know." "Six months, a year." "She's not old enough." "With early onset, the disease spiral, it can be steep." "And as we know, Julie, your mother had Alzheimer's." "Yes." "And she suffered a similar trajectory." "Trajectory?" "This is my wife, not a graph!" "Joseph!" "What about another treatments?" "We've explored all the possibilities, Joseph, and now we're here." "But she was getting better." "Julie... five minutes ago I gave you three words to remember." "What were they?" "It's something you eat." "A piece of fruit." "I'm sorry, Joe." "Apple." "Apple!" "Table." "Chair." "Apple." "Table." "Chair." "Apple." "I think now's the time for you to start making plans." "I'm so sorry." "Listen to me." "Don't be." "Don't!" "You never be sorry to me." "You're my wife." "You've got nothing to be sorry for." "Ever." "What else can you tell us?" "Nothing that will help." "You just woke up?" "Yes." "Three months later." "Yes." "And you can't describe who attacked you?" "No." "Not even his face?" "Or the colour of his skin - black, white, red, yellow?" "Nothing?" "Nothing." "Then what about why were you there?" "I'm sorry..." "Why WERE you there?" "I don't know." "Were you undercover?" "I don't know." "Shouldn't you have had backup?" "Mr Delaney... whatever happened, I was the senior officer." "It was my mistake." "Mistake?" "It cost my son his life." "Your son was killed instantly, Mr Delaney." "No amount of backup would've saved him." "But you also lost a killer." "He got away!" "And no-one even knows what he looks like!" "We'll find him." "How?" "We will." "It's here, isn't it?" "It's in this room." "What?" "The bullet that killed him." "It's in your brain." "Yes." "It, um..." "They can't take it out." "What will it do to you?" "Everything." "Nothing." "No-one knows." "It passed through my son first." "Yes." "He slowed it down." "Yes." "He saved your life." "It should have been you." "So... was that for them?" "Sir?" "This... amnesia." "You think I'm faking it, sir?" "Are you?" "No." "I don't remember." "Don't?" "Or don't want others to know that you do?" "I don't... sir." "Well, if anything comes back to you, anything, you come straight to me, you understand?" "Yes, sir." "I have to be honest with you, Gabriel, I didn't want you back, full stop." "I'm sorry, sir." "It was Patterson who insisted." "He obviously believes in second chances." "Lucky for me, then." "Only if you walk the line, Gabriel." "You do know how to do that..." "don't you?" "May I offer you a lift?" "No... thank you... sir." "How'd it go?" "I've got to go change." "Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd" "E-mail subtitling@bbc.co.uk"