"What sort of man, do you think, is committing these murders?" "He's a cool, intelligent, cunning... .. as having a deep hatred of prostitutes." "The killer they call the Yorkshire Ripper." "Brutal murder, wasn't it?" "Oh, yes, it was." "Very brutal murder." "She had very severe head injuries." "Other injuries which I don't wish to elaborate on at this time." "Teeth marks left on her body gave police the valuable information..." "In the past four years, 12 women have died in the very same way." "I'd like to say that I curse him and that I hope he goes rotten from head to foot if the police don't get him first." "You daren't let your kids go out in t'street." "Frightened to go over to the shops now." "Anywhere near the Chapeltown area." "It's very frightening." "We have 5,000 officers in this force and I intend that all those officers, on every day of their duty, will be contributing to this inquiry." "This man has to be caught." "The police services are stretched to their utmost on the investigation." "I've got to admit to the public that we've not been successful up to now." "Hundreds of people are now writing in with information." "Mail is arriving by the sackfull." "Over 3,000 statements have been taken, and 9,000 men have already been eliminated from our inquiry." "We have received letters that we believe to be genuine and we are presently analysing a tape that we also believe comes from someone who we'd very much like to talk to in connection with this inquiry." "I'm Jack." "I see you are still having no luck catching me." "I have the greatest respect for you, but, Lord... you are no nearer catching me now than four years ago, when I started." "Anyone who missed the tape recording can now put a phone call in to Leeds 469111." "Every time the phone rings," "I wonder if it's you." "If I get up in the middle of the night," "I can't help thinking about you." "I feel that I really know you." "But I don't regard you as evil." "They never learn, do they, George?" "I bet you've warned them, but they never listen." "Your voice is almost sad." "To me, you're like a bad angel on a mistaken journey." "And while I would never condone your methods... .. I can sympathise with your feelings." "The inevitable speculation that Laura Baines may be the 13th victim of the Yorkshire Ripper." "We hope and pray there may be no more funerals like this one." ""And while I could never condone his methods, I can sympathise with his feelings. "" "Assistant Chief Constable Bill Molloy on national news last night." "Christ!" "He's lost it." "Badger Bill is retiring." "Philip?" "I've asked Pete Hunter to join us." "I think he's our man." "He's Assistant Chief Constable of the Greater Manchester force." "Married, no children." "A good man." "A steady man." "Squeaky clean." "They're ready for you now, Mr Hunter." "If you'd care to come this way." "Mr Hunter, gentlemen." "Thank you for coming, Mr Hunter." "Philip Evans, Regional Inspector of Constabulary for Yorkshire." "Sir John Marsden, Chief Inspector of Constabulary." "Michael Warren from the Home Office." "As I said on the phone, there's been another." "Laura Baines." "Student nurse. 20 years old." "Leeds again." "It's a farce." "You saw Bill Molloy on the box last night." "What did you make of him?" "I think he's under a lot of pressure." "It's become a personal vendetta." "Can't have that." "There'll be a press conference tomorrow." "Harold Angus will tell them Bill Molloy's out." "Now, there have been calls for outside help, a fresh perspective and so on." "Which is why we've asked you here today." "We want you to head up a covert Home Office inquiry into the Ripper investigation." "Why covert?" "Don't want to go washing our dirty linen in public, do we?" "As far as West Yorkshire is concerned, your squad will be there in an advisory capacity." "Mr Hunter, this goes right to the top." "The Home Secretary is taking a personal interest." "I'm quite sure he is, sir." "You'll handpick your own officers, be based in Leeds and be answerable only to myself." "And the Home Office, of course." "Ask." "Ask what, sir?" "Why you?" "That's what you want to know, isn't it?" "OK, sir." "Why me?" "You've previously been involved in investigations into the West Yorkshire force, haven't you?" "The Karachi Club shooting for one." "With all due respect, sir, that was over five years ago, and failed to reach a conclusion." "Why was that?" "I couldn't continue my inquiry for personal reasons." "These investigations, they make you popular with the West Yorkshire lads, did they?" "No, sir." "What is it they call you?" "Saint Cunt, isn't it?" "Bother you, that?" "No, sir... it doesn't." "Then there's your answer." "DCS John Nolan." "20 years' experience, done two tours with me." "Good man." "Detective Helen Marshall." "Helen Marshall?" "Yes, sir." "These are the best we have." "I'd like them both." "If that's OK with you, sir." "I've been instructed to give you whatever you need." "Thank you." "You made your mind up pretty quickly about doing the job." "Not something I felt I could refuse." "You could have, Pete." "I would have." "It's a job that needs to be done." "It's an honour for the Manchester force." "Let's hope so, Peter." "We're working 24 hours a day, seven days a week, with limited time off." "So if you cannot commit, please say so now." "I'm in." "Thanks, John." "I'll have to get someone to feed the cat, I suppose." "Thank you." "John, me and you'll head over first thing." "Helen, we'll meet you in Leeds Tuesday morning, nine sharp." "Do they know we're coming?" "Brass, yeah." "But not the lads or the press." "We're gonna keep it low-key." "Thank you." "I'll go and clear my desk, then." "See you later, boss." "Thanks, John." "Thank you." "For what?" "Asking for me." "No competition." "'The Yorkshire Ripper has claimed his 13th victim, 'as the West Yorkshire Police confirm the killing of Laura Baines 'bore all the hallmarks of Britain's most wanted man. '" "Bloody Yorkshire." "Yeah." "'.. have again embarked on a hunger strike after the Home Secretary refused... '" "Ladies and gentlemen, last night, an emergency meeting of the West Yorkshire Police Committee was called in light of the confirmation of Laura Baines as the 13th victim of the Yorkshire Ripper." "I would like to announce a number of internal operational changes." "How about your resignation?" "Resign!" "As of today, Detective Chief Superintendent Maurice Jobson will have sole responsibility for the hunt for this man." "Would you comment on allegations that valuable time has already been lost on this investigation?" "Was Laura Baines reported missing as early as...?" "I'm not taking questions on this." "Did she bleed to death while officers failed to respond to calls from her flatmates?" "How do you respond to suggestions that the so-called Yorkshire Ripper tape is a hoax?" "Bunch of fucking bastards!" "Bloody shambles." "Like a fly to shit, you are, Hunter." "Steady, Bill." "And you can fuck off 'n' all," "Detective Chief Superintendent!" "Don't take it personally, Maurice." "He's had a shock." "You didn't tell him he was going." "I've arranged a nice dinner for this evening." "We'll talk things over then." "Nice place." "Good steaks." "Just us." "I'm with John Nolan." "Don't worry about John." "Dickie Alderman and a couple of the lads will take care of him." "'Harold Angus of West Yorkshire announced that a brains trust of senior detectives 'are being drafted in to assist in the hunt for the Yorkshire Ripper." "This super squad... '" "Don't waste any time, do they?" "Sorry there's no red carpet." "Didn't expect one." "That's lucky, then, isn't it?" "You can keep going back for more until they have to roll you out." "Are you sure?" "Whew!" "No, thanks." "You're not on hunger strike, are you?" "How do you mean?" "Well, in sympathy, like." "The Maze." "You're Roman, aren't you?" "I'm not religious." "I heard you were." "No offence." "You do know why I was brought in by the Home Office?" "I know everything, Hunter." "So you understand that to do the job I need unhindered access." "I wouldn't want to limit the scope of your investigation in any way." "I'm going to need to copy all files pertaining to the Ripper Inquiry." "Do you know how many files there are?" "We had to reinforce the floor to support 'em." "Another drink?" "No." "Those files won't mean fuck all without a guide." "Well, if you could supply us with a liaison, that would be a great help." "How's your wife these days, Hunter?" "She's fine." "Heard she hadn't been too good, that's all." "Don't mean to pry." "She's fine, thank you." "I hear the casino's worth a visit." "That's me, gentlemen." "I've had a long day." "I'm going to go back to the hotel." "You're the guest." "Maurice?" "Memorandum." "It's, er... terms of reference for the investigation." ""Terms of reference?" What do you mean?" "I don't like open-ended inquiries." "Joan?" "Have I woken you up, darling?" "I'm sorry." "Go back to bed, darling." "I'll talk to you in the morning." "Yeah." "I miss you too." "Good night, love." "Bye." "Bye." "Bye." "'Police are still appealing for witnesses to a robbery and shoot-out 'at the Karachi Club in Wakefield which claimed seven lives." "'Two police officers were seriously injured in the incident." "'PC Tommy Douglas was shot in the shoulder 'and Sergeant Bob Craven suffered serious head injuries in the attack. '" "It's like the papers say." "Sergeant Craven and PC Douglas are on the mend, but they're not up to questioning just yet." "'Our thoughts go out to the families of PC Tommy Douglas and Sergeant Bob Craven." "'An outside force will be reviewing the actions of the West Yorkshire Police, 'and we, of course, welcome their inquiry. '" "Just as they're about to knock off, Craven and Douglas get the call." "The call was logged at 1.28am, anonymous." "Why does it smell so bad?" "What about the barmaid?" "Looking for her." "Got a name?" "Not yet." "Two shotguns." "One Smith  Wesson, and two MP5s." "Craven reckoned a four-man team." "Well, we've got five guns." "I still can't get this clear, can you?" "I just can't see it." "Something's wrong here." "Big night?" "Oh, building bridges, you know." "You?" "A couple of pints with Dickie Alderman and a few of the lads." "Friendly enough." "Learn anything?" "Yeah." "Morale's low." "Bill going was the last straw." "Our presence doesn't help." "There's no phone line." "They're working on it." "Christ." "Geezer on the way." "Apparently." "Can't be too careful now, can you?" "Detective Superintendent Bob Craven." "Sergeant back then, wasn't it?" "Aye." "You look in a better state than the last time we met." "You don't." "Sorry I'm late." "Right." "I'm going to be your liaison, along with Detective Inspector..." "Dickie Alderman here." "I've been involved since day one." "And we know the case on a personal basis." "Yeah." "Probably forgotten more than most know." "That's a pity, isn't it?" "You know what we mean, Mr Hunter." "Yeah." "OK, here's what we're going to do." "I'm going to give each one of you a year or two of the investigation and 24 hours to get to grips with the files." "I want details of cars sighted, descriptions of all witnesses, suspects, whatever." "And this time round I want them irrespective of blood type." "I want us to forget all previous investigations." "That includes the Geordie accent on that tape." "Bill Molloy was very, very certain that tape was genuine." "Well, Bill Molloy's off the case." "We're starting from scratch." "Right, John." "I want you to do 1974, '75 and '76." "'76 was a very quiet one." "That's favouritism from the boss, I reckon." "What do you reckon?" "Helen, you get the short straw, '77." "Busy boy that Jubilee, weren't he?" "Four in a row." "Why don't I do one of Helen's?" "Here you are." "I'll do this one." "Clare Strachan." "No." "We'll keep it as it is." "You got a problem with that, Helen?" "No, it's fine." "OK." "I'll take '78, '79 and Laura Baines." "OK, listen." "The Yorkshire Ripper's name is in those files." "Trust me." "We've had him in and let him go." "What makes you so sure of that?" "Here's the problem, Bob." "You've been looking for some hunchbacked lorry driver with a Geordie accent, flesh between his teeth and a hammer in his back pocket." "Who do you think we should be looking for, then?" "Before this latest, he was quiet for 15 months." "Makes you wonder what he was doing all that time." "Exactly." "What do you do in your spare time, Bob?" "What?" "What's your hobby?" "I like chewing minge, Mr Hunter." "Why?" "You don't get out as much as you'd like to, right?" "Obviously." "Why's that?" "This job, I suppose." "He's the same." "He's got the same bollocks in his life as we've all got." "Work, the wife, kids..." "Married with kids?" "Oh, right, yeah." "Married." "No kids." "No-one would cover up for him, what he's done." "She doesn't think she is doing." "She doesn't see him for what he really is." "But neither do we." "Sorry to interrupt, Mr Hunter." "Your wife left a message." "She wants to know if you're coming home for dinner tonight." "Thank you." "You'd better hop to it, Mr Hunter." "Don't want winter in the house now, do we?" "Oh, God." "You couldn't get more normal than Laura Baines." "He changed all that, didn't he?" "Laura gets off the bus at 9.29, crosses the road." "He comes up behind her, hits her on the head, drags her over there." "She's got to be the last." "You know, people are gonna talk." "About what?" "You punishing me with '77." "Bob Craven clocked it." "Yeah." "I don't like Mr Craven." "He's a knob." "According to the lads, he hasn't been right in the head since the Karachi Club shooting." "Yeah." "I think they left some bits out when they rebuilt him." "God, that was a mess." "So what's up?" "How do you mean, "What's up?"" "You said you wanted to see me." "That was it." "I wanted to see you." "Helen..." "I'm just finding it a little difficult pretending nothing ever happened between us, that's all." "Well, it didn't, really, did it?" "Well, it did from where I'm standing." "Look, I'm not going to cause a scene, I'm not going to contact the wife." "Helen..." "It was a joke." "Look." "I don't regret anything." "It's done." "Just don't pretend it didn't." "It was disloyal." "It was unprofessional." "And it was unforgivable." "And I do regret it." "Well, that's your problem, isn't it?" "It still happened." "57 times he stabbed her." "77, Mr Hunter?" "Yes, please." "Thank you." "64, please." "Thank you." "Night, then." "I wasn't expecting you home, love." "What's this?" "A Vietnamese baby?" "Not now." "Let's talk another time." "I thought I'd put the tree up." "You're a bit late." "Everything's up in the attic." "It's all right." "I'll get the steps from the garage." "Have it up in no time." "Those lights are so old." "'Shots fired in the private bar of the Karachi Club." "'Sergeant Craven and PC Douglas respond. '" "Down the stairs, eight dead, smoke." "Four blokes in hoods with shotguns." "More shots." "Beaten, left for dead." "Dougie still can't remember a thing." "Bob?" "Well..." "He's in a bit of a state." "Craven and Douglas knew shots had been fired, knew the SPG are on their way, and still they go charging in there?" "'Strange. '" "Hero cops, remember?" "It doesn't quite add up, does it?" "It's your investigation, Hunter." "I want to talk to them." "And you will, but not just yet." "Sorry to trouble you, sir." "Telephone call for Mr Hunter." "It's your wife, sir." "It's urgent." "Joan?" "Oh." "OK." "I'll be right back, OK?" "I'm leaving now." "I'm so sorry." "So sorry." "We can try again." "You been over to the other side, boss?" "No Helen?" "She's on the rag, isn't she." "I do like gravy with my beef." "Don't you?" "Cheers for that, Bob." "Let's get started, shall we?" "Joan Richards." "Found on February 6th, 1976, in an alleyway on the Manor Street Industrial Estate, Leeds." "Structure of the investigation?" "Fish and chip job, as it was then." "They still had Chief Superintendent Jobson on it, though." "You were on this one, right, Bob?" "Yeah, I was." "So why don't you talk us through it?" "Eh?" "It'd be a great help if you could." "Er..." "She had boot prints on her legs, you know." "Wellingtons." "He'd pulled her bra up over her tits, shoved a piece of wood up her fanny, that kind of thing." "Who was running it?" "The Owl were running it." "Jobson." "And two other names that are going to keep coming up..." "Detective Inspectors Alderman and Prentice." "Good team?" "Yeah, good team." "Some of the best men we've got." "And then you came onboard?" "And then I came onboard, Mr Hunter." "Yeah." "And?" "And the pathologist linked it with the other murders, right?" "That's about it, yeah." "Thanks for that, Bob." "Let's take a break, shall we?" "Bob, can I have a word?" "You've been around all this a long time, haven't you?" "Ripper?" "Hmm." "Too bloody long." "In deep, aren't you?" "Eats me up, yeah." "Same for all the lads." "That's not a crime, is it?" "No." "You must have your own theories." "Oh, I do, yeah." "So why don't you share them?" "With you?" "I don't think I will." "We'll catch our Ripper, not you, Mr Hunter." "You're taking your time about it, aren't you?" "Yeah, well, it's not just about the Ripper, is it, Mr Hunter?" "Not for you." "That's not why you're here, is it?" "Not really." "What do you mean?" "You know what I mean." "It's about seeing how many of us you can take down with him." "Why would I want to do that?" "Because it's in your nature, isn't it?" "No." "Like I said, we will catch our Ripper, Mr Hunter." "Not you." "Can I go now?" "Yeah." "You OK?" "Yeah." "Working late. '77." "There's a lot to do." "Yeah." "Can I come in?" "It isn't convenient." "Right." "Right." "I'll see you tomorrow." "See you." "Mr Hunter?" "My name's Martin Laws." "Could I have a word?" "What can I do for you, Mr Laws?" "I've a young man outside." "He's an unsettled lad, but he's desperate to speak to you." "About what?" "A young woman called Clare Strachan." "It'll only take a minute." "You're best getting in that door." "I'll wait out here." "Lock the doors." "It's OK." "What happened to you?" "Occupational hazard, Mr Hunter." "What's your name, lad?" "No names." "Did you come alone?" "You on the run?" "Always." "You knew Clare Strachan." "You're a bit late, Mr Hunter." "She's been dead three years." "Oh, I'm aware of that." "How did you know her?" "She were a friend." "Sister, really." "She didn't deserve what happened to her." "Is that what you wanted to tell me?" "Ask Eric the Pimp if you want to know more." "Her pimp?" "I think you're wasting my time, aren't you, son?" "She had two little daughters." "And she were loved." "That's more than a lot of people, isn't it?" "BJ." "They call me BJ." "Mr Hunter." "I hope that wasn't a complete waste of your time." "But BJ was very insistent." "What exactly is your line of work, Mr Laws?" "Community work." "I work with the sick, the lonely, the dispossessed." "Goodness, I'm not under arrest, am I?" "You don't like the police much, do you?" "No love lost, no." "So, when someone kicks down your front door, kills the dog and rapes the wife, who are you going to call?" "It certainly wouldn't be the West Yorkshire Police." "They'd already be in there, wouldn't they?" "I might want to talk to you again." "I stay in Fitzwilliam." "It's a little mining village not far from here." "I wouldn't think it was your type of place, really." "Take care, Mr Hunter." ""Dear Bill, I warned you and Jack from the Post there's a surprise waiting for you in Preston." ""Whores getting younger all the time." ""Yours respectfully, Jack." "From hell. "" "This letter was received at the offices of the Telegraph  Argus, 13th June 1977." "Helen?" "1977 was a hell of a Jubilee." "The "surprise in Preston" was Clare Strachan." "Convicted prostitute and registered alcoholic." "Clare wasn't immediately linked to the Ripper." "The type of injuries didn't correspond." "She was taken to some disused garages on Frenchwood Street, had sex and then was hit on the head with a blunt instrument." "She was kicked in the face, head, breasts, legs and body." "Her attacker jumped up and down on her chest, causing a rib to puncture a lung and kill her." "She had bite marks on her breasts, and had been penetrated by a variety of objects, twice sodomised." "Once post mortem." "Sergeant Bob Craven was sent to Preston to investigate, but found no evidence to connect Strachan to the others." "Correct, Superintendent?" "Hmm." "Thank you, Mr Craven." "Her pimp was Eric Hall." "Detective Inspector Eric Hall." "This Force?" "Eric Hall was murdered in an unconnected incident." "But before that, he was a suspect." "I think you'll find that the tests later revealed that the killer of Strachan and the writer of that letter were the same person, weren't they?" "Same blood type." "B." "I mean, that's very rare." "But initially you didn't think it was the same man." "At the start, the only links we had was that they were all slags." "Until the letter." "And the sample." "And then Strachan was in." "Yeah." "It felt like I were in court, then!" "Relax, Bob." "You're amongst friends." "Yeah, I know." "Do you want to add anything else?" "No, thank you." "I'm not convinced." "You're not convinced?" "The semen, found in Strachan, the saliva off the letter, the blood group all matched." "That's neat." "No, that's forensics, love." "The point is either Strachan was killed by the Ripper or she wasn't." "And if she wasn't, then that would mean we've got ourselves two Jacks, not one." "Love" "Sorry to disturb you." "What's up?" "Can I come in?" "Yeah." "That was an excellent job you did today." "Do you really think we're looking for two Jacks?" "Well, it's a possibility, isn't it?" "Do you want something to drink?" "I've got tea or coffee." "No." "Someone's just contacted me on behalf of Libby Hall." "Eric Hall's wife." "But it's you she really wants to speak to, apparently." "You know what happened to her?" "I know a bit, yeah." "The things they did to her." "The things they made her do." "They dragged her to the bathroom, tried to drown her." "They left her on the floor for her son to find." "She turned religious after that, like a lot of them do." "Can't blame her." "You'd think she'd have moved." "I hope you don't mind." "I've invited Reverend Laws." "We've already met." "Mr Laws." "Mr Hunter." "Reverend Laws is a comfort." "This is Detective Helen Marshall." "How are you?" "OK." "You work your team too hard, Mr Hunter." "I'll be the judge of that." "Do you want to sit down?" "Thank you." "Mrs Hall, do you mind if we have a word in private?" "There really isn't anything that Reverend Laws hasn't already heard." "All the same..." "No, it's OK." "It's fine." "On you go." "Eric was a suspect on the Clare Strachan murder, wasn't he?" "Yeah." "Until that letter came, supposedly from the Ripper." "You don't think Strachan was killed by the Ripper?" "Eric knew it wasn't the Ripper." "He never did shut up about things, did he?" "He was calling people up, the papers, anybody who'd listen." "So someone put them on to him." "That shut him up." "Eric kept notes, he kept recordings, and everything." "I gave everything to Detective Superintendent Jobson." "OK." "That was three years ago." "And you've heard nothing?" "Just a minute." "I found these in the garage." "Clare Strachan is page 13, I think." "My husband's business interests." "I didn't ask any questions." "Did Eric have any particularly close friends?" "Not really, no." "Only Dougie." "Dougie used to come over and play a round or two with Eric every now and again." "Dougie?" "Tommy Douglas?" "Yeah, and his wife, Sharon." "She was much younger than him." "She was a model, I think." "What would you do if they threw you out?" "I don't know." "He did some bad things, did Eric." "But he didn't deserve what happened to him." "You look tired." "I haven't been sleeping." "Isn't that the worst kind of hell?" "Good night, Mrs Hall." "What did he say to you?" "Nothing, really." "He was just kind." "Kind?" "What do you mean?" "Kind about what?" "He was just friendly, Peter." "You're supposed to be on duty." "Your wife's been calling, Mr Hunter." "And 64." "I'm going up." "Sure you don't want a quick drink?" "No, thank you." "I'd better go and say hello." "Don't forget to call the wife." "Evening." "Want a drink?" "OK, Bob." "I'll have a quick one." "Looks like you've had one of them already." "Steady on, Bob." "That's out of order." "Oh, I don't know." "I fucking definitely would." "Wouldn't you, Dickie?" "Yep." "Get him a drink." "I'll have a bitter, please, mate." "Yeah, well, Eric, bent as a twobob note." "Gets involved with this gang knocking off post offices." "It all goes belly up." "They take it out on him." "Brought it on himself, really." "Yeah, and her." "Poor cow." "She reckoned Eric got done because he kept bleating on about" "Clare Strachan not being one of the Ripper's." "It's not the Yorkshire Post, is it, boss?" "It's part of Eric's stash." "Nice." "My guess is that Eric Hall and Tommy Douglas were running it." "Dougie gets pensioned off, sinks all his compo into wank mags." "Makes sense." "Listen, John, are you OK holding the fort for a while?" "Yeah." "Good place to pause, take stock." "OK, I want to talk to Dougie." "Douglas is fucked." "He's a bitter man." "Take care, Pete, eh?" "She's a lovely looking kid." "You're a lovely looking man." "She keeps me young, does our Karen." "You got any yourself?" "No." "No, just me and the wife." "You came through all right, Dougie." "You think so?" "I'm on three different kinds of painkillers for this useless bugger." "Bastard." "Never found them, neither." "Not likely to, are they?" "Not now." "Least the Force saw you all right." "Bollocks." "All this is on the never never, isn't it?" "Business didn't work out with Eric, then?" "What business?" "Spunk Magazine." "Hello, love." "Who's this?" "Peter Hunter, Sharon, love." "Assistant Chief Constable." "Yeah?" "Ten bloody years he gave you lot." "Come on, Karen." "Let's get some dinner." "It was hard on her and all." "Some cunt tried to kill me." "Can you imagine what that does to you?" "Tell me about it, Dougie." "I never got the chance to ask before." "That night at the Karachi Club." "I don't remember a thing." "What the fucking hell's he doing here?" "Sharon, please." "I'm not fucking having it." "Come on!" "Pete." "Good to see you." "You look well." "You know why I'm here, Maurice?" "Short straw?" "Eric Hall." "Three years, Leeds have had Eric Hall's notes." "Yeah, well, he was always up to his fucking neck in shit, were Eric." "Those notes his wife sent over, they were just ramblings, to be honest." "Ramblings?" "Like the fact that he pimped Clare Strachan?" "Well, nothing was ever proved." "What about this?" "Like I said, he was up to his fucking neck in it." "Maurice, that rag features one of the Ripper's victims." "An occupational hazard, isn't it?" "What happened, Maurice?" "How do you mean?" "When did we start to be on opposite sides of the fence?" "We aren't." "It feels like it, though, doesn't it?" "Whoo!" "Down into the fucking belly we go!" "Is it all right if we smoke?" "Oh, yes." "Right, Detective Inspector Richard Alderman," "Detective Inspector Jim Prentice, I'd like to thank you for coming..." "Have we got any sandwiches?" "Let's get started, shall we?" "Both of you have been involved in the Ripper inquiry from the off, so you both have a tremendous amount of knowledge about the different investigations, the methods and procedures." "You were the senior detectives..." "Still are." "Right." "And the other detective involved was Bob Craven?" "So, I'm interested to know what you feel, given that you've worked under" "Bill Molloy and Maurice Jobson." "What we feel?" "This is my first Sunday off in three months." "Is that your best fucking question, Mr Hunter?" "Sit down." "Sit down, Detective Inspector." "I'd like to know the differences in the styles of operations, if you don't mind." "Everything was different." "This was five years ago." "Much smaller op." "So Clare Strachan wasn't in at this stage?" "Not until after the blood tests and the letters." "Yeah, like you didn't know." "Strachan was in and out for quite some time, wasn't she?" "Initially, yeah." "That's also true of a number of the other murders and attacks." "What's your point?" "My point is, who's in, who's out, and who decides?" "So we go through every unsolved murder in Yorkshire and tell you why or why they're not Ripper cases?" "Just one." "Clare Strachan." "Lucky the Ripper wrote that letter, eh?" "Otherwise Clare would have been just another unsolved." "It wasn't the fucking Ripper." "Shut up, Dick!" "Shut it!" "I'm not having this shit telling me what I can and can't say!" "Come on, John." "Everyone knows." "He's talking bollocks!" "Of course it was the Ripper." "Strachan was knocked up with Eric's kid, wasn't she?" "So he did her." "So what's the Ripper doing, claiming Clare as one of his, then?" "Still should have told me, John." "Yeah, I know." "Sorry, boss." "Jobson's not going to be very happy, is he, the way we've treated his lads?" "Maurice can piss off." "It's a Home Office Review." "You think you're up for all this, Pete?" "How do you mean?" "It's getting dead murky, innit?" "No-one takes the bone off me this time round." "Well, I'm going to get an early night." "See you in the morning, boss." "Night." "Hello?" "'Hunter?" "'Tommy Douglas." "I need to see you right away. '" "What is it, Dougie?" "'I need to see you. '" "Right now?" "'I've got serious information. '" "Concerning?" "'Concerning me, for fuck's sake!" "'Not on the phone." "'I need to see you. '" "Do they know who died first?" "No." "Preliminary postmortem revealed Karen Douglas died of a single stab wound to the heart." "You said Douglas called you." "He had information." "About what?" "We'll never know now, will we?" "Ex-copper and his kid." "Top policeman." "Sniff of the Ripper in there." "A right fucking mess." "Doesn't look good, does it?" "You sound like you're blaming me." "Word is, you've been intimidating Jobson's officers, questioning their integrity." "Well, I've certainly been questioning their capabilities." "There have been threats of resignation." "Oh, good." "Pete, it's a lousy job." "No-one would blame you if you pulled out." "Absolutely not, sir." "No way, not now." "So long as you're not letting it get to you, Peter, letting it get personal." "Mr Hunter, could you comment on the catalogue of bungling and neglect that has characterised this investigation?" "These issues are a matter of concern to us, and are part and parcel of the review, but it would be unprofessional of me to comment any further." "Are you investigating any connection between the murders of Clare Strachan and a vice-detective called Eric Hall?" "Not at all." "So there's no truth that those murders are linked to the recent murder of ex-policeman" "Thomas Douglas and his daughter?" "Absolutely not." "Are you able to confirm or otherwise rumours circulating to the effect that you're about to be removed from the so-called Super Squad due to personal conflicts with senior police officers?" "Interview's over, thank you." "Where's Helen?" "She should have been here." "I thought she would be." "Are you going back to Manchester?" "How does it feel, Mr Hudson?" "Thank you." "Miss Marshall not in her room?" "No, sir." "Not since yesterday." "Oh." "This was left for you, sir." "I heard they're closing all the shops early again, sir." "Because of him." "Thank you." "Hello, Mrs Hall." "Hello." "So sorry to bother you again." "I was just wondering if Miss Marshall had been back here at all." "Helen?" "Yes, she came back last night." "About 9.30, I think." "She wanted to see Reverend Laws." "He's helped me so much." "I'm really pleased that they've become acquainted." "They met after we were here?" "Yes." "Yes, she's become quite the convert." "Really?" "He lives in Fitzwilliam, doesn't he?" "Netherton Close." "I've never been there myself, mind." "Where have you been?" "I had to go home." "What for?" "I was worried about you." "I don't want to talk about it, Peter." "I went to see Mrs Hall." "She said you were looking for Martin Laws." "He's just been very supportive." "About what?" "Just leave it, Pete, please!" "I've got some bad news." "Any of this gets out, and I'm finished." "Is it blackmail?" "Was there a note?" "No, no note." "Then it's just someone trying to rattle you, that's all." "Well, it's worked." "What a fucking mess." "Hey." "Hey." "It'll be all right." "It's nothing." "It's just two people in a park after a rough day." "It's nothing." "We all need a break, Pete." "It's Christmas, isn't it?" "Come on, we should get a drink." "Young couple just got married, right?" "And he comes home on Friday night from t'pub and he says, "I want to try a new sexual position. "" "She says, "Oh, aye, what's that?" He says, "It's called the wheelbarrow." "And what you have to do... you have to get down on all fours." "I'll get your legs." "And I'll slide in and then I'll walk you round. "" "She went, "All right, I'll do it, as long as you don't go past my mum's!"" "To the Super Squad!" "The Brains Trust!" "The Fuckwits!" "Merry Christmas." "Helen?" "That was fun." "Yeah, it was." "I just wanted to say thank you, really." "Thanks for everything." "And I wanted to say I'm sorry." "I'm sorry if I insulted you." "I'm sorry if I hurt you." "Pete..." "I do like you." "Too much." "That's why what happened, happened." "Please, Pete, don't." "I just..." "I wanted to tell you how I felt." "A lot of bloody good screwing the boss did me, eh?" "God." "What a pair." "You have a merry Christmas, Helen." "You too." "Pete..." "I fell pregnant." "What?" "I got rid of it." "When?" "Sunday." "Manchester." "Martin Laws helped me." "I'm sorry." "I'm so sorry." "Why didn't you come to me?" "I want to know what the fuck you're going to do about this mess!" "Let us worry about that, yeah?" "You just keep it together, lad." "I am not going to be the fucking goat!" "There's always a goat." "It ain't gonna be me." "It won't come to that." "Fucking right, it won't." "Is that a threat?" "Are you threatening me, Dickie?" "I am just saying that it's got out of hand." "He's going to rip this whole fucking thing open." "Not a word, Dickie, eh?" "Not a word." "Now, you shut up and you listen to me." "We will take care of everything." "That's what you say..." "You'll do as I say, else I will start fucking about with you." "I'm upset." "We all are." "I can't do time." "I can't take a fall." "You won't have to, huh?" "I'll look after you." "Gentlemen." "What do you want, you fucking poof?" "Out." "Get out." "What's the matter with him?" "Bad day." "Aren't they all?" "Always got to be a goat, eh, Bob?" "You know that, son." "You've had a few, haven't you, Mr Hunter?" "So who's it going to be, then?" "Who's going to take the fall for Dougie?" "Tommy Douglas... was my best mate." "Yeah, a mate with a grudge and a big mouth." "Shall I tell you what I do know?" "Yeah?" "You're fucked." "You're fucking finished." "Merry Christmas, Bob." "8.31 and eight seconds." "I thought Carl was going to have it off your wrist." "Took a shine to it, didn't he?" "They're lovely, aren't they?" "Yeah, they are." "Someone burnt my house down." "My fucking house!" "I know, I know." "What are you gonna do about it?" "Peter." "It was my house." "It could've killed us, could've killed my wife!" "Where's Joan now?" "Are you asking me to trust you?" "What's this?" "Mr Hunter." "Sit down, please." "You heard about the house?" "Yeah, we know." "What's going on?" "Allegations have been made against you that indicate a disciplinary offence." "What allegations?" "We're making a number of inquiries." "Peter, we would like to invite you to take extra leave." "Extra leave?" "What about the Ripper Inquiry?" "Chief Superintendent John Nolan will take over your team." "Is this anything to do with Detective Helen Marshall?" "Can't say, Mr Hunter." "We'd like you to provide us with details of your bank accounts, you know, savings accounts - any credit cards you might have." "I'm afraid I can't give you that information." "Peter..." "The fire took the lot." "Very convenient." "Yeah, it is, isn't it?" "Very convenient." "You think about that, sir." "Take it easy." "Passport?" "We lost everything." "Pity." "Fucking hell!" "It is now my intention to ask you to clear out your office and to leave these headquarters immediately." "You will have to make yourself available for an interview tomorrow two o'clock, Leeds Street." "My office." "I'll give you a hand, mate." "I'm, er..." "Sorry about your house." "This is your mail." "Still on the same side, Maurice?" "Pete..." "How deep does the rot go, Maurice?" "Eh?" "How deep?" "And who stops it?" "Mr Hunter." "Welcome back, sir." "'.. whether Mr Hunter's suspension is linked to 'an apparently hostile report he was preparing into the management 'and practices of West Yorkshire Police regarding the ongoing Ripper Inquiry... '" "Hello, is Mr Evans available, please?" "It's Peter Hunter again." "Yeah, I know that, love, but it's quite urgent." "OK, thank you." "'.. of the man they would like to question in connection with the killing. '" "Pete." "I was worried about you, mate." "John." "I'm OK." "Listen!" "Mate..." "Go home." "I haven't got a home." "Go to Joan's folks, wherever." "Just go." "They're not finished with me, mate." "I've got a meeting with Angus in The Owl at two." "This whole thing is bollocks, isn't it, the whole thing." "Absolute bollocks." "What about you?" "Shouldn't you be getting them all together, back to work?" "Monday week, if we're allowed to." "They're talking about bringing another force in." "I don't even care." "Don't even care." "Aye." "'Yes?" "'" "This is Peter Hunter." "'Oh, yes, I've been watching you on the telly. '" "'Took your time. '" "What have you got to tell me?" "'You have a date in Preston, Frenchwood Street. '" "'Tonight. '" "String the bastard up!" "Is it that Geordie bastard?" "Slow down!" "Back off." "Come on." "What's going on?" "Got him, haven't they?" "What?" "They've caught the fucking Ripper." "The Yorkshire bloody Ripper!" "He's down in the Belly now." "Get back." "Come on." "Back off!" "It's over, Pete." "It's all over!" "I know, I've heard, John." "It's great news." "I think you're in serious trouble, Peter." "They're all in my brain... reminding me of the beast that I am." "You'll feel better now." "I should tell Monica." "Who's Monica?" "Monica's my wife." "Tart pulls this punter - looks like a good-looking Bee Gee, she says." "Luckiest bitch alive." "So I get up there and I remember him saying he needed a slash, going behind the tank." "So that's where I go, and fuck me if there isn't a hammer and a bloody knife on the ground by the back wall." "I says to myself, "I've just caught the Yorkshire bloody Ripper. "" "Well, done, son." "How about that, then?" "Result!" "Well done!" "Cheers." "Right, Peter, I'd like to get straight to who it is we're talking about, OK?" "OK." "Good..." "So, first off..." "Myrtle Thompson?" "I think..." "Yes." "You think?" "I know." "Yes." "Good." "Anita Bird?" "Yes." "Theresa Campbell?" "Yes." "Joan Richards?" "Yes." "Marie Watts?" "Yes." "Rachel Williams?" "Yes." "Dawn Johnson?" "Yes." "Katie Burden?" "Yes." "Clare Strachan?" "Yes..." "No." "Are you sure...?" "I say, I didn't do her." "Elizabeth McQueen?" "Yes." "Doreen Pickles?" "Yes." "Laura Baines?" "Yes." "That's a lot of women, isn't it, Peter?" "Think we've left anybody out?" "Yeah, you have." "You'd best tell us, then." "OK." "I saw her in the Oak." "She annoyed me, probably in some minor way." "I took her to be a prostitute." "So I hit her... on the head... and it was on the head." "I scratched her buttocks with a piece of hacksaw blade." "She was drunk." "She was laughing at me and she said..." ""Come on, get it over with. "" "I said, "Don't worry, I will. "" "And I hit her with the hammer." "She made a lot of noise." "So I hit her again." "She was wearing very strong and cheap perfume." "Then I pushed a piece of wood up her vagina to show how disgusting she was." "She was dirty, she just talked about sex." "I got some filling from a sofa and I... .. pushed it down her throat." "And I held her nose." "She was making a lot of noise and there was a car there." "It drove off while I was hiding her behind the sofa." "I used the Phillips screwdriver, the big one." "I let go of her nose after a while, but she was still breathing, making a lot of noise." "So I held it again." "'I pulled all her clothes off and stabbed her... '.." "I was steaming with anger." "'Her eyes were open." "'She seemed to be looking at me." "So I did the strangest thing," "'I stabbed her in the eye." "'I remember, I put it to the lid 'and jerked it in..." "I said, "I'm sorry,"" "'and I had sex with her." "Her eyes were looking at me." "'She went into the back and I tried to hit her, but I missed." "'I caught the side of the door instead." "'I kicked her. "There's no need for that," she said." "'Then I hit her on the head." "I took her clothes off and I said to her," "'"You can't trust anyone these days. "'" "Clare was just so tired of running." "This is where she ended up." "Not very nice, is it?" "Well, what do you think?" "What do I think?" "Obstruction, withholding evidence..." "Murder?" "I think I'll fucking arrest you." "Arrest me?" "They want BJ dead." "Tell me!" "She wasn't one of the Ripper's." "Why was she killed?" "Was it because of the porn?" "Something to do with that?" "It wasn't because of the porn." "It was because of what she saw." "I just want them to stop!" "Then help me!" "They'll kill me!" "I'll fucking kill you!" "Six years ago." "The Karachi Club." "BJ was there." "And Clare." "She was a barmaid." "There were bad men there " "John Dawson, policemen - Bob Craven, Tommy Douglas." "We saw what happened." "'We saw my friend Eddie come for his revenge." "'Eddie settled his score and then we saw him leave." "'And then BJ and Clare 'saw what came after. '" "Kill the cunts!" "Kill them all!" "Clean it up!" "Now!" "'Men came with guns." "'We heard their voices." "'They were policemen." "'Bill Malloy." "'Men you know." "Kill the fucking cunts!" "Kill them all!" "No eyes." "No questions." "They got Clare." "I'm next." "You're lying!" "Fuck off!" "You're hurting me." "Talk to someone else." "There's nobody else left." "They're all fucking dead!" "Who killed her?" "Tell me." "You know." "You came and you went." "And no-one else asked questions." "My wife had a miscarriage." "I had to leave." "Well, you're back now." "And now you know." "John?" "'How are you doing, mate?" "'" "Are you still with me?" "'Come in." "Be careful, mind." "'You don't work here any more." "Remember?" "'" "Craven's out of control, John." "It's got to stop here." "He's here." "He's down in the Belly." "Like you said, Pete." "He's out of control." "Five men." "Five guns." "Got it clear, now, Pete?" "Not you, John." "Die, you bastard!" "Dirty fucking Ripper!" "He's found peace, Mrs Hunter." "Peace at last."