"We know the body had been there for some time." "I might say for a considerable period of time." "Yeah." "Possibly several months, if not several months." "Possibly several months." "Possibly." "God, I hate this." "Do I look all right?" "You look fabulous." "How many months do you reckon it was there?" "I don't know." "If I knew that I would be a rich man." "We know this is the body of a male." "Man." "Male." "He was most probably white European in appearance, aged between 35-50 years." "Can we not be more specific?" "No." "We believe he was around 5 foot 3 inches in height." "So he was short, very short, short in the leg but I can't say that." "Say five foot... three INCHES." "Then leave a pause." "They'll get it." "The great British public?" "Try it." "Five foot... three INCHES... in height." "That works." "See?" "God, I bloody hate cameras and press." "Perhaps most significant is the fact that he suffered from some form of congenital disorder affecting his legs." "Good." "Yeah." "You sound like you know what you're talking about." "The result was..." "I do know what I'm bloody talking about." "Good." "I was just... saying." "The result was that he would have walked with a limp." "I would appeal to the public." "If these details ring any bells, if they fit someone you know, I would ask you to get in touch with us immediately." "This was the horrific murder of a vulnerable adult" "Boss, the press are ready when you are." "Why would you tie a dog collar round someone's neck and set fire to them?" "If you're a psychopathic murdering nutter, why wouldn't you?" "Do you worry that this job will turn us into weirdoes with no sense of normality?" "Yeah, of course, but, having said that," "I wouldn't want to be doing anything else." "Me too." "Which would suggest that we were barmy to start with." "That's what I love about you." "You're so bloody reassuring. 'Night, kids." "She's mad." "Bonkers." "So that's what we've got to look forward to." "Um... yeah." "Hiya." "Jesus." "Couldn't do us a brew, could you?" "I stayed a few nights at our Alison's when I got out." "Did she not tell you?" "I was on the settee so, you know, wasn't ideal for 'em wi' t'kids." "So er..." "You've done all right for yourself." "I have now." "You look really well." "Look..." "I er..." "I wouldn't have come knocking, Rach, but um..." "I couldn't stomach another night in the rain." "Have you got any dry clothes?" "Just..." "Right, get them off." "Go and have a bath." "I'll put everything through the washer." "Um... can I... sleep..." "Yes." "OK." "Hiya." "It's on now." "Have you got it switched on?" "Hello, love." "OK, see you tomorrow." "All right." "'Night." "The body is believed to have been there for up to six months and, as yet, has not been identified." "We know that the body had been there for a considerable period of time, possibly several months." "We know that is the body of a male." "He was most probably white European in appearance." "Aged between 35..." "Look at Andy." "Looks like a spare prick at a wedding." "What's a prick?" "Is Gill's hair different?" "No, I don't think so, Mum." "Didn't it used to be longer?" "Yeah, about 15 years ago." "The result was that he would have walked with a limp." "She's got lovely teeth." "Can you shush?" "If these details ring any bells..." "Isn't she dignified?" "She wasn't dignified this afternoon when she was bollocking Rachel." "Why was she bollocking Rachel?" "She puts food in the fridge doesn't eat it, it goes mouldy and, being Rachel, it never actually occurs to her to chuck it out." "What fridge?" "THE fridge." "Our fridge." "The fridge in our office." "Why do you need a fridge?" "Do you keep body parts in it?" "Yeah, that and Rachel's elevenses." "Are you lying?" "Me, lie?" "Right..." "So we missed all that." "Well done, ladies." "Why aren't these two in bed?" "Because somebody phoned saying that Gill was going to be on TV." "Oh." "Right, come on, you two." "I'll be up in a minute." "Come on." "What about you, Mum?" "Are you ready for bed?" "You want to dress more like Gill... then perhaps you'd get promoted." "Do you think that's what it is?" "Alison said you were just doing murders now." "The major incident team." "So what is that really?" "It's the bee's bollocks." "And I'll tell you what, in ten years time I'm going to be a DCI in charge of my own syndicate." "You've done well." "What pisses me off, Dominic, is that you could have done everything I've done." "You always had more about you." "You made choices." "I made choices." "I want to change." "I want things to be different." "I could've dossed with the old crew but I don't want to go back there." "I've got an NVQ." "I want to find a job in a kitchen." "I just need... to be able to look clean and tidy for five minutes and for someone to give us a chance." "If my boss knew that my brother was a convicted armed robber and I had him living here in my house she'd..." "Sack you?" "No, no, no." "No." "No, she'd think things." "You look for a job, you find one, you work hard, you stay away from those evil scumbags and... you can stay here for as long as you like." "But you don't pester me at work." "And you don't get nicked for anything." "Is that clear?" "Yeah." "Good." "I'm worried about Adrian." "Worried about him?" "I don't think he wants me here." "Course he does." "I seem to annoy him... effortlessly." "No, you don't." "Is he always this irritable?" "Um... yeah, more or less." "He seems to take offence at the slightest thing and I'm really trying to keep out of the way and not annoy anybody." "Mum, you're here to relax and recuperate." "I don't want you worrying about annoying people, not that you are." "It would be easier if you weren't always home so late." "I know." "I can't help it." "I..." "I know." "I know." "If I was Gill I wouldn't get home until after midnight every night nearly." "So you think on." "Night-night, love." "Goodnight, Mum." "What?" "Did I look like a complete tit on the telly last night then... or not?" "Or what?" "No." "Good." "Not that it matters." "Of course not." "Got the point across." "Yeah." "So that's good." "Morning, boss." "Morning." "Morning." "Boss." "Morning." "Hiya." "Hello." "How's your mum?" "Oh, God, she's funny." "She doesn't half wind Ade up." "It's a joy." "Morning." "Morning." "16 phone calls." "Half of them as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike." "A number of them identify our victim as Darren Rigby, 37 years old, living in Rochdale." "One of the calls was from his brother who tried ringing him first, no response." "He went to his flat, let himself in." "There's post going back four months." "The place stinks." "Flies everywhere." "That's when he rang us, just gone 11 last night." "He's in this morning." "He's in at..." "Now, in fact." "So can someone talk to him?" "Before they do can we make sure" "Darren Rigby isn't in hospital or prison or custody?" "Yeah." "Then we'll think about getting CSIs into his flat." "We hadn't been close." "Not for... years." "And all that stuff... in the paper about how he died." "I mean, is that..." "We don't know that the dead man is Darren yet, Mr Rigby." "But it is... in't it?" "Do your parents have any contact with Darren at all that you're aware of?" "They're both dead." "OK." "So um... what we'd like to do, with your consent, is take a sample of your DNA." "The problem that we've got Mr Rig..." "Um, can I call you Patrick?" "Course." "The problem that we've got, Patrick, is that as it said in the paper, the dead man had been subjected to fire." "So he's not in a condition where we could ask you to make a visual identification, even if you were willing to face that." "If we take your DNA we can establish whether or not there is a genetic link between you and him and rule in or out within 24 hours whether or not this really is Darren." "OK." "Thank you." "What about dental records?" "Can you not..." "Normally, yes." "But the dead man has had some damage to his mouth." "What... what sort of..." "Patrick, please don't imagine that we're going to keep anything from you at all if we find out that this is Darren." "But what I don't want to do at this stage is upset you unnecessarily." "He was in three, four times a week." "I didn't think owt about it when he stopped coming." "People come and go." "But..." "Actually, I do know when it was." "Yeah, cos we'd had somebody kicking off in the vault." "And we'd rang 999." "When would that be?" "Four month since." "And he was in here that same night." "Definitely." "Definitely." "Had his little dog with him." "Oh, he was with that fat bitch." "What's she called?" "She's huge." "She's like a wall." "She's like a wall with a perm." "What's her name?" "She's scary." "The boss tried to bar her once over..." "But, I'm telling you, she's the sort if she says it's Wednesday, it's Wednesday." "Nadia Hicks." "Do you know her?" "So if it did kick off and we were called, can we find out who attended?" "Cos it'll be logged so it'll give us an exact date and they could have taken CCTV from the area that could help us." "This could be our last known sighting of him." "Can you follow that up?" "Yeah." "Nadia Hicks." "Tell me more." "Darren left the pub, he thinks, the barman, with Nadia Hicks, after it kicked off in the vault." "She's got a conviction, she's got several, for supplying and assault, prostitution." "She's currently on probation." "Address?" "37 Brunswick Road, Werneth." "Should we see if she'd like to talk to us?" "Isn't it your birthday next week?" "Is it?" "Are you doing anything?" "Nope." "How old are you going to be?" "What's it to you?" "Ooh, Miss Sensitive." "Do you think we're wasting our time?" "Yeah, looks like it to me." "Do we have a mobile phone number for her on the box?" "Great minds." "Seriously, what are you doing?" "Do you want to come to ours for tea?" "Aw, aren't you sweet?" "Can we have jelly?" "The girls would like it." "They think you rock." "Children with taste and discernment." "I think they need their heads examined but..." "Oh." "Hello, Nadia." "I'm Janet Scott, a detective constable with the Manchester Police Major Incident Team." "I'd like a few minutes of your time." "You may be able to help us with an inquiry." "If you could ring me back on this number or pop in and see me at Oldham police station," "I'd be grateful." "Thank you." "Don't you hate being polite to shitbags?" "I do, yeah." "I thought you liked being polite to everyone." "Oh, how we laughed." "If she is on probation..." "She'll have a probation officer who she visits once a week." "She won't be expecting us to turn up there." "Right." "Let's work up a cunning plan and hope she's got the foresight to get in touch with us before then." "If um..." "Can I..." "I'm sorry?" "Can I bring my brother to my birthday thing?" "Tea, whatever it is, next week at your house." "You've got a brother?" "You never mentioned him." "No, well, he's a twat." "Well, of course you can bring him." "No, I mean he's all right." "He just needs to get himself a job and get settled." "Rachel, it was an accident." "I just went to the loo and I thought I turned the heat down, off, down and I mustn't have done." "Shit, Dom." "I'll pay you back." "Will you?" "What with?" "I ju..." "I just wanted to cook something nice for you." "I'm sorry." "Don't." "Dom, don't do that." "Look, it doesn't matter." "Ssh, ssh, ssh, ssh." "Ssh." "Have you had a good day?" "No." "Oh, dear, why's that then?" "If your mother gives me one more piece of unsolicited advice about bringing up children..." "Oh, Ade." "She's just trying to be helpful." "She isn't." "She's not." "If she was trying to help she'd just shut up." "She nearly got a kebab skewer through her ear hole at tea time." "Ooh, don't say that." "I nicked someone for that once." "They got 14 years." "What, to their mother-in-law?" "She just wants to be useful." "Look, I don't know if I can handle another three months of this." "She's only been here two weeks." "Look, come on." "She's had a big operation." "Look at how she rallied round you and the girls last year when... when I got stabbed." "I know, I know, I know." "It's just me." "I'm being entirely unreasonable, aren't I, as usual?" "Of course she's got opinions about bringing up kids." "She was a teacher for 40 years." "Can't you just see the funny side?" "Janet, I am getting so far rapidly beyond that stage." "Right, well, I'll speak to her." "I'll ask her to wind her neck in." "When?" "Soon." "Yeah, when?" "Tomorrow." "Breakfast time." "Right." "Done deal." "Thanks." "Ta-ta." "DNA result." "Definitely Darren Rigby." "Who's telling his brother?" "Don't know." "Is that her?" "Nadia, is it?" "Nadia Hicks?" "I'm Detective Constable Janet Scott, Manchester Metropolitan Police" "Major Incident Team." "We'd like to ask you a few questions if you've got a few minutes." "Won't take long." "Can you pop over to the station with us?" "I ain't done owt." "We're not arresting you." "You might be able to help us with something, that's all." "Come on." "You can have a cup of tea and we'll drive you home afterwards." "Darren...?" "Rigby." "Did you know him?" "No." "Do you ever go to the Queen's Hotel on Chester Road?" "Now and again." "We've got CCTV of you sitting in there having a drink about four months ago with Darren." "Let's see if I can jog your memory." "Darren walked badly." "He was disabled." "Does that ring any bells?" "Yeah, yeah, I know who you mean." "So you do remember him?" "I didn't know that was his name but..." "So can I take you back to that evening four months ago." "There was a scuffle, a fight, in the pub." "It's always kicking off down there." "And during the course of the evening, it's on CCTV, you and Darren left together." "Can you tell me where you went after you left?" "Nowhere." "This is important, Nadia." "I probably just went home." "It's important because this is our last known sighting of Darren and at the moment, as far as we're aware, you're the last person who saw him alive." "How well did you know him?" "I didn't." "Yeah, but you sat chatting to him for over an hour, didn't you?" "Probably a bit pissed." "Talk to anyone, me, when I've had a few." "Can you remember what you were talking about?" "No." "Did he seem upset at all about anything?" "Did he say anything to that effect?" "Do you remember if he had a dog with him?" "Nadia, we've just told you that this man that you spent time with is dead and you don't seem particularly concerned." "You don't even seem, forgive me for saying this, you don't even seem surprised." "I don't get involved me." "You don't get involved?" "Nadia, this man is dead." "Brutally, viciously murdered, so anything that you can tell us will help." "Am I under arrest?" "No." "Why would you think that, Nadia?" "So can I go?" "Ma'am, I've got DCI Dodson from Syndicate 3 on the phone." "Ooh." "Hiya, Slap." "I am lying next to a hot, steaming body." "Oh, good God, woman." "Keep your dirty sexual fantasies to yourself." "It's the only excitement you get this side of Christmas." "Excuse me, lady." "I've got a toy boy." "Oh, yeah, we've heard about this." "Your mother's paying him to go out with you." "Is that the acrid stink of jealousy I detect?" "No, love, it's pity." "That was you looking like a knob on the news, wasn't it?" "You're so funny I've just fallen over laughing." "How's Kevin?" "Still writing with crayons?" "No, no." "He's come on since he got away from your syndicate." "What is he?" "Head of tables and chairs?" "Officer in charge of paperclips?" "How's his mental furniture, still in storage?" "Can you trust him with sharp objects yet?" "What do you want, anyway, you fat-arsed bitch?" "Your fragrant presence down here now." "Where are you?" "Rugby Mills." "What have you got?" "Like I said, a hot, steaming body." "Looks very similar to the one you've got." "Really?" "A bit fresher than yours." "It is literally still smoking." "Have you got any other similarities?" "How many do you want?" "It's dead, it's human, it's been set fire to." "I've been instructed to liaise." "Why else would I lower the tone of my joyful existence by ringing you, you mad cow?" "I'll catch up with you in the mortuary in two hours." "How have you got on?" "It would help if English was her first language." "I took her to the toilet." "She tried to dry her hands under the Tampax machine." "She knows more than she's saying though." "Have we missed anything?" "You have." "Boss has gone to look at another burnt body that's turned up." "Another one?" "Yeah." "And Hi-Tech Crime Unit have found kiddy porn on Darren Rigby's desktop." "Oh, God." "They look like cigarette burns but I've incised one of them and, in fact, they're not burns, they're stab wounds." "Made by?" "Phillips-head screwdriver." "I've seen it before on another job." "Oh, here we go." "Brighton wheelchair murders." "Thomas Waterhouse stabbed his victims in the thighs before or after wanking on them." "Once you've seen it you can't mistake it." "Was there anything like this on Rigby?" "No, his feet were toast." "But..." "But did we incise them?" "We had no reason to then." "So can we?" "Sure." "Who did the PM on Darren?" "Scary Mary Jackson." "Will it work?" "It'll depend how deep the burns went and if any stab wounds went any deeper." "Andy, got a missed call from you." "You're going to go ape." "Am I?" "Why?" "A journalist rang asking if it's true that we found kiddy porn on Rigby's computer." "Uh." "Night out, you and me?" "I'll ring the press office." "They can deal with it." "God preserve us from people who'd sell their soul for a few quid." "Uh." "What's up?" "Granny was saying stuff and Dad went ballistic." "He says he's going to live at Grandad Scott's." "It was your fault." "It wasn't my fault." "Jesus." "You went on about his cooking." "It was a joke." "You think this is funny?" "Get lost." "Idiot." "Knob." "Moron." "I was simply pointing out..." "I know what you said, Dorothy." "I was there." "I do think you're taking it to heart in a way that..." "Well, it's like you're deliberately looking for..." "People do take personal comments to heart." "What's going on?" "I'm leaving." "He's being..." "I won't say it." "I'm going to live at my dad's because I cannot be doing with this for another two months." "I'll go." "No, you won't." "What's happened?" "Absolutely nothing." "My spaghetti bolognese is shit, apparently." "And I didn't use that word." "Like everything else that I do, eh?" "What's happened?" "Ade." "Adrian." "You're not leaving?" "I thought you were having a word with her." "If you leave that's it." "You're not coming back." "Don't be so stupid." "It's just till she goes home." "No, I'm not having it." "If you can't live for three months in a civilised manner with my mother when she needs us then..." "It's fine." "It'll be fine." "She'll be fine here and I'll be fine there." "You go, you've gone." "That's it." "She lent us the money to buy this house." "She..." "Who do you think..." "Who do you think...?" "If I'd died, who do you think would have dropped everything and moved heaven and earth to help you bring up those two girls properly?" "Not your flipping dad." "Don't you diss my dad." "He can barely walk." "That's because he spent most of his life smoking himself stupid." "You're making this worse than it is." "Worse than it is?" "!" "You're walking out on me!" "I'm not having this conversation in the street." "And I'm not dragging you along behind me any more!" "I'm sick of it!" "You're a pathetic, petulant, sulky kid." "Dragging me along behind you?" "Go." "Just go." "Sling your hook." "You can correct this now." "No, thanks." "Fair enough." "Following the postmortem on the second body..." "Kevin!" "There'll be a linked inquiry with Syndicate 3." "Yeah, don't worry, I'm in charge cos our inquiry started first so Julie Dodson won't be breathing down your neck but we might borrow some of her staff." "Bitch." "I beg your pardon?" "She tried to get me chucked off MIT." "I don't care." "You don't speak about a senior officer like that and certainly not in front of me." "Sorry, ma'am." "Send him outside, boss." "Make him say a few hail Marys." "The second victim is Keith Fleming." "54 years old." "Married, two children." "A science teacher living in Shaw." "He had a drink-driving conviction three or four years ago so luckily we had his DNA on the database." "He was reported missing by his wife four days ago." "She hadn't seen him for ten days prior to that following a bit of a domestic." "She assumed he was staying at his sister's but he wasn't." "She hadn't seen him either." "The MFH report's here if anyone wants a peek." "The pathologist found stab wounds on both victims made by a Phillips-head screwdriver." "Keith Fleming also had a number of teeth smashed and again signs that the gums were partially healed." "What's becoming apparent is that both these men were held captive for up to a week before they died suggesting that they were... well, tortured." "Yeah, so, what we need to find out is what these two men had in common in life as well as in death." "They would, on the face of it, appear to have moved in very different circles but..." "Did he have a dog collar on, the second one, or anything similar?" "Another thing, Keith Fleming was a biggish bloke, 5'11", so we may find there's more than one person involved." "We're looking for other crime scenes besides where they were dumped." "Has the wife been told?" "Not yet." "Do you want to do this one?" "What we have to do next..." "Mrs Fleming... is build up a picture of your husband's last movements so we can get as close as we can to the person who did this to him." "What are you saying?" "It sounds like he was... tortured." "So what's happening now is our intelligence officers are looking through your husband's finances to see when and where he last used his bank cards." "Our telecoms officers are checking through the activity on his mobile." "What we'd also like to do is take away any computers in the house that he may have used." "Why?" "Well, like I say, it's what we do to build up a picture." "This is how that paedophile died, isn't it?" "The one in the news." "If you mean Darren Rigby... yeah." "There are some similarities with his death, yeah." "So are you suggesting Keith was a paedophile?" "No." "Is that what you're all thinking and not saying?" "No." "Nobody's saying anything, Mrs Fleming." "We know very little about Keith and... that's the point, to build up a picture." "You know he's dead." "Are you going to let people think he was a paedophile too?" "No." "That's what'll happen." "That's what people will think if they show their photos together on the TV, which they will." "I want to see somebody else, somebody in charge, somebody proper." "Yes, we'll..." "Our SIO..." "Your what?" "Our senior investigating officer," "Detective Chief Inspector Murray, will talk everything through with you." "Good." "Well, you'd better leave then." "Now." "I think you've said enough." "Mrs Fleming, nobody is suggesting for a second that your husband was a paedophile." "He's the victim." "We're going to find out who did this to him and when we do that person is going to get sent down forever... hopefully." "And one of the tools that we can use to help identify that person is to access Keith's emails." "The vast majority of people are killed by someone they know." "We are on your side, Mrs Fleming." "'Ey, thanks, pal!" "Sorry." "You could see I was sinking." "Why didn't you wade in?" "She was kicking off." "They do." "She obviously felt guilty because the last time she saw him they'd argued." "Anyway, I'm not your mum." "What's up?" "I um..." "I kicked Ade out last night." "I've been up half the night with Taisie crying her eyes out." "I'm not blaming my mum." "I refuse to." "She's done endless things for us over the years and, you know..." "I know that she can be a bit annoying sometimes but, you know, whose mum isn't?" "And, anyway, I don't care." "I don't give a monkeys." "It's just... the girls." "It's not fair, is it?" "You bring them into the world and that's the deal... a mum and a dad." "I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry." "I'm..." "I'm not telling Gill just yet." "It's not fair." "She's got enough on her plate." "How are you going to manage?" "Don't they have, like, after-school clubs and..." "Well, my mum's there and um..." "I don't know." "I don't know about lifts to and from piano and drama and cricket and..." "God knows what else but um..." "I'll work it out." "People do." "Look at Gill." "Men are just shit, really, aren't they?" "I don't want Andy to know either." "Hiya." "Keith Fleming's bank card was used at an ATM in the Queen's seven days ago." "You're kidding?" "Are you still with the wife?" "No, we just left." "Great, you'll be driving near the Queen's." "Get round there fast." "We need the CCTV." "It's day seven." "If it's on a weekly loop we might lose it." "We're on it." "Hey, that's not everything." "What?" "Fleming's bank card was used seven days ago at the Queen's which is where we're going now so foot down." "But it was also used yesterday morning at DLA Sports in the middle of Manchester when Keith Fleming's body was lying frazzled in Rugby Mills." "Right, I want stills made of the little bastard's face and I want all the CCTV we can get our hands on of where he went next." "Wind it back, wind it back." "There." "Look, he's reading the PIN number off the back of his hand and the twat behind the counter's just stood there watching him." "God." "What planet do these morons live on?" "And what's that?" "It's a dog." "He's got a dog." "It's little white doggy thingy like thingy..." "Darren..." "I want his scalp." "I want those stills and I want his picture everywhere." "Do you want to see Keith Fleming, boss?" "Have you got it?" "Yeah." "So that's him there." "Is he pissed?" "Yeah." "He's definitely looking a bit wobbly, isn't he?" "And then... this fat lad comes up to talk to him." "Hang on, that's not a bloke." "That's Nadia." "Oh, my God, it is." "Are we picking her up?" "Yeah." "Arresting her?" "Oh, yes." "And I want her house searched." "I'll line up the CSIs on standby in case we find anything." "What's this with you and Julie Dodson?" "Oh, God." "Have you met her?" "No." "Bitch from hell." "She makes Godzilla look like Mary Poppins." "No, she does." "And ugly as..." "I'm telling you, if I had a dog that ugly" "I'd shave its arse and train it to walk backwards." "Nadia." "Nadia." "Nadia!" "Sarge, she's legging it." "Down to Roundthorn Road." "She's wearing a grey hoody, jeans and she's built like a brick shithouse." "DS Roper, MIT." "We're chasing a white female." "She's running from Brunswick Road towards Roundthorn Road." "Uhh!" "Ohh!" "Arh!" "You're under arrest, you bitch." "I am arresting you on suspicion of murder." "Rachel." "Are you all right?" "I think you just saved my life, you bugger." "Rachel?" "Sean." "Hey." "Why are you here?" "You transferred to the Met." "I came back." "I couldn't stand it." "Full of southerners." "Are you all right?" "Yeah, I'm..." "Are you CID now then?" "No, I'm MIT." "How's Alison and Dom?" "Yeah, they're good." "You look..." "Come on, let's get you to hospital." "I said I'm good." "Oh, she's like this." "Yeah?" "Is she?" "Have we got her?" "In the van." "Fat bitch tried to strangle Rachel." "Jesus." "Are you all right?" "Yeah, yeah, yeah." "Right, job done." "Thanks, lads." "No problem, pal." "I'll call you." "Same number?" "Yeah." "Do you know him?" "Er, we were at school together." "Oh." "Oh, God." "That hurt." "And thanks for saving my life, Kevin." "'Ey." "Come here." "Ahh." "Are you OK to interview Nadia?" "She refused hospital but the doctor looked at her head." "She's fit to be detained and fit for interview." "Sure." "Best if you didn't ride shotgun, Rachel." "No kidding!" "Why isn't anybody answering that phone?" "Listen, I got your number off the telly." "I need to speak to someone about that Darren bloke." "OK, go ahead." "I need to speak to a police officer." "It's urgent." "It's urgent, really, really urgent." "I'm a police officer." "Can you calm down, love?" "It wasn't just Nadia." "Tell me your name." "It wasn't Nadia." "It wasn't just her fault." "The people that you're after..." "Oh, fuck off!" "Hello?" "Get off me!" "Where are you?" "Boss!" "I need a trace on that call." "A lad just rang." "Sounded like someone's kicking the shit out of him then the line went dead." "Hello, we've just had a call on the public line about the Darren Rigby murder." "I need to know where the number's come from and a location if it's a landline." "What did he say?" "Nothing, he didn't have time." "He said he knew something." "He said it isn't just Nadia, it isn't Nadia's fault." "Thanks." "It's a TK on the Hollingwood Estate, corner of Beech Avenue and Abercrombie." "Thanks." "Tell uniform to go to that phone box." "Tell them not to touch anything." "I want a CSI, I want it fingerprinted and I want to know who made that call." "What are you doing now?" "Getting round there." "Dead?" "Well, that wasn't Nadia, was it?" "That was good then." "Yeah." "It was all right." "Is there someone else?" "No." "Have you got time for a drink or..." "Why don't you want Andy to know about you and Ade?" "I've been seeing him again." "So there's blood in the boot and an empty petrol container." "Are you going to tell me what happened to Darren Rigby, Nadia?" "Whoever did this was shutting this boy up fast." "Anthony Stainfield, Nicky Madden, Liam Welsh." "Next door but one to Nadia's." "Manchester Metropolitan Police Major Incident Team." "What's your name?" "What's your name?" "Have you ever seen this man before?" "No comment." "Do you want to do another?" "Do you want me to get you another one?"