"In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate, equally important groups:" "the police, who investigate crime, and the Crown Prosecutors who prosecute the offenders." "These are their stories." "It's our anniversary, isn't it?" "Yeah, six months." "Hold on." "Turn-down service." "No, I can't bring my maid's outfit home!" "You already..." "Shot once in the chest." "Maybe a .22." "Murder weapon?" "Well, a man can dream." "Woman next door heard a shot at five." "Thought it was the TV." "And room 606 saw a man in the corridor in a green sweatshirt." "Right." "So, we have Mr Michael Trent, aged 38." "Return ticket to Southampton." "Couple of theatre tickets for tomorrow night in the West End." "40 quid and some receipts." "Oh, and a mobile phone." "Yeah." "That's OK." "No sign of forced entry, so not a robbery." "What's that in the bucket?" "Vodka." "And er..." "What, that's it?" "Just a spare pair of pants?" "Oh, and there's a shirt on the shelf." "OK, so a flying visit?" "Or he just didn't like packing." "Unlike the first Mrs Brooks, who loved packing." "Just quieten down, everyone, please." "Hello?" "It is, yeah." "Yeah." "Come straight up." "Room 603." "See you then." "Mr Trent's guests are on their way up." "Now we've got us a party." "Hello, Jan." "DS Brooks." "You're here to see Michael Trent?" "Who?" "You just rang him on his mobile, didn't you?" "We're here to visit a business associate." "And what business is that?" "It's all legal and above board." "That's not what I asked, though." "Are we under arrest?" "He's chatty, in't he?" "I'd like you to come down to the station, answer a few questions." "Voluntarily, of course." "Why would we do that?" "Because I can get very dog-with-a-bone if I think someone's trying to hide something from me." "You understand?" "What about our meeting?" "It's cancelled." "Kopecky, Radek." "Assault, assault, three counts of ABH, possession of an offensive weapon..." "You know, it's important to master a trade." "Were you planning on practising on Michael Trent?" "Sticking with silence, eh?" "Kopecky, Jan." "Taking without consent, conspiracy to steal." "Busy lad." "Handling stolen goods." "I'm a legitimate businessman going about my lawful business." "Really?" "Well, if I was to check the chassis numbers against the VIN numbers on this little lot, what would I find, Jan?" "What do you want from me?" "Michael Trent." "Why were you taking these photos to him?" "What's it got to do with you?" "He's dead." "You think we do this?" "You think we kill this man?" "No." "But you're our only lead, so why don't we start with how you knew him?" "He called us." "Said he was coming to town and wanted to meet." "Why?" "He buys cars." "We sell them." "You'd never met him before?" "Still haven't." "Did you tell anyone you was meeting him?" "Why would we do that?" "Well, someone knew he was at that hotel." "Maybe you should ask him." "You're not charging them?" "Well, the Kopeckys may carry their biceps between their ears, but not even they are stupid enough to go and meet a bloke they've just killed." "What have we got on that victim?" "Michael Trent led the life of a nun." "Not so much as a parking ticket." "Yet he's meeting the Kopecky brothers." "Lab just confirmed:" "Trent died from a single 22-calibre gunshot wound to the heart." "No signs of a struggle, no murder weapon." "Right, so all we've really got is a bloke in a green sweatshirt." "Michael Trent's bill and credit card details." "Hotel faxed them over." "Thank you, Ange." "You said the door wasn't forced." "Well, Trent has let in whoever killed him." "Or he had a key card." "Find out how easy it is to clone one." "Yeah, we can do that." "What have we got on the victim's phone?" "Pay-As-You-Go." "We're waiting for the numbers from the provider." "If Trent was shopping for motors from the Kopeckys, he'd have brought cash and lots of it." "No." "The room safe hadn't been used." "He did have a hold-all." "Well, there's your motive." "They'd have to know he was wedged up." "Maybe they got lucky." "There's no room service on this bill, so where did the vodka come from?" "Well, where's the nearest off-licence?" "He checked into the hotel at 4:13, so any time after that..." "All right." "There." "Yeah?" "Yeah." "Yeah, I remember him." "A bottle of vodka." "He had this big wodge of notes, and kept waving it around." "I told him to put it away." "There's plenty of crack-heads and hookers who'll have your arm off for less around here." "Believe me." "And did he?" "What?" "Put the money away." "No, he just laughed." "He said, 'Just point me in the direction of the hookers.'" "You reckon he picked up a tom?" "Well, if he did, we haven't found her." "And plus, he was cutting it a bit fine." "He was meeting the Kopeckys at six." "Not unless she robbed and murdered him first." "Repayments to his card are made from a shared account with a Rebecca Bryson from Portswood in Southampton." "Wife, maybe?" "Well, I tried the contact number, but it keeps going to voicemail." "There you go." "This is the calls log from Michael Trent's phone." "Seven calls to other mobiles, three of which are the same, and then one to a dental practice in Portswood, Hampshire." "It was Rebecca Bryson he called three times." "Right before the dentist." "The last call to her mobile lasted seven seconds." "Just enough time to decide not to leave a message..." "And to ring her at work, instead?" "Exactly." "Hi." "Can I speak to Rebecca, please?" "No, it's her next-door neighbour." "I've stupidly locked myself out and she's got my only..." "Oh, OK." "No, no, no, that's fine." "Cheers, thanks." "Becky's taken the afternoon off work." "It's her birthday and she's on her way to London to meet her boyfriend." "Keep calling her." "Meet her off the train." "It's one hell of a birthday present." "Detective Brooks?" "This is DS Casey." "What was so important you couldn't tell me on the phone?" "It's regarding Michael Trent, Miss Bryson." "What about him?" "I'm afraid he's dead." "That's him." "Can I get you anything?" "He knew this day would come." "With his line of work." "Car dealer?" "He was a copper." "Mikey was working for you lot." "But in Southampton." "In fact, you'll need to inform them." "Stat zero." "Er...sorry?" "Code for 'officer down'." "Right." "He taught me all the jargon." "You see, he was working undercover." "He was tracking drug gangs." "Organised crime." "Big stuff, you know." "Michael telling you all this - did that not erm... blow his cover?" "We were engaged." "He trusted me." "And you had a joint bank account." "That's right, yeah?" "He needed somewhere to put all his spare money." "You know?" "Away from prying eyes." "Did you ever meet any of his colleagues?" "Once." "He took ten grand out of the account a few months back." "It was to pay an informant." "Did he ever use any other names?" "There was a letter, for Gary..." "Gary..." "Gary Tully." "He said it was the previous tenant." "But...could've been one, I suppose." "Did he take any money from the account before he came to London?" "He said there was an undercover deal he had to take care of." "It was a big pay-off." "How big?" "250 grand." "Southampton plod have never heard of Michael Trent." "That's quite a scam he had." "Well, you say that, but he was putting money into the account." "Yeah. 90 per cent of the money that was in there belonged to him." "My office, please." "Well, if he wasn't ripping her off, what was he doing?" "Is DI Chandler ever coming back?" "She's looking after her Mum." "You'll get used to him." "What?" "Bonsais and all?" "Well, you know what, mate?" "He may trim tiny trees, but he's still one of the good guys." "Bingo!" "Michael Trent might not be showing up anywhere, but Gary Tully is ringing all the bells." "Did you just say 'bingo'?" "He's wanted by the Family Court for non-payment of maintenance." "So, there's a wife somewhere he owes?" "Yeah." "Has done for years." "Maybe she got tired of waiting." "We're looking for your daughter Lindsey." "Why?" "What's she done?" "It's about her ex." "Found him at last, have you?" "Well, sort of." "He's dead." "How did it happen?" "He was shot." "At a hotel near King's Cross." "He was here?" "In town?" "Last I heard, he was in Glasgow." "No, Southampton." "No, definitely Glasgow." "And before that, Newcastle." "Anywhere but here - you know what I mean?" "I'm not sure if I do." "I'm sorry." "Bastard owes us money." "How much?" "Over ten years?" "Hundred thousand." "Hundred grand's a lot." "So's one hundred, if you haven't got it." "Yeah." "Where were you yesterday evening around 5pm, Mr Donovan?" "Where I always am." "Lugging sacks of dirty tablecloths." "Where can we find your daughter?" "Great Ormond Street." "My grandson, Joe..." "He's got leukaemia." "Gary?" "What about him?" "Maybe we should go outside and talk about this." "Why?" "What's he done now?" "I'm just gonna be outside, hon." "Level three, Mum." "Attaboy." "Gary never even bothered to see Joe." "What, even when he got sick?" "Joe always hoped he'd come." "Just like once upon a time I hoped he'd pay us the money that he owed us." "When we first got married, he was so much fun - you know?" "He always had bundles of money." "But it didn't last?" "At first, I pretended not to mind the overnight 'business' trips." "I tried to ignore the texts and the calls that he'd get." "But it just got a lot harder... especially when the waitresses he was shagging and the girls he'd meet in bars started calling us at the house." "So you got divorced?" "When I got pregnant with Joe." "The day the divorce went through, he emptied all the accounts and left us with nothing." "And what about the CSA?" "Couldn't they help?" "Well, they tried." "But he's very clever." "He claimed he was living abroad, created umbrella companies to hide the money..." "I sold the house, but he'd borrowed so much money against it, there was hardly anything left." "So you moved in with your dad?" "Yeah." "He flogs himself on his rounds while I look after Joe." "I should get a part-time job, really." "There'll be time enough for that..." "..later." "Where were you at 5pm yesterday?" "I was here with Joe." "Where I always am." "I didn't kill Gary." "I just wanted the money that he owed us." "We've got a few like Gary Tully." "He's just an extreme example." "They've got their own websites, moaning about being stitched up by the women they married." "Then they advise on avoiding how to pay." "If an ex-wife posts, calling them on it, they round upon her like a pack of wolves." "Charming." "It's either that or claiming they're the victims." "Some of them are victims." "Not Gary Tully." "He's an expert." "We can't prove how much he's earning." "He's jumping around the country, while claiming he lives in Spain." "He's got several IDs, including Michael Trent, using a string of Pay-As-You-Go phones, so right now, we can't trace him that way." "What about the local police?" "Chasing non-payment of maintenance is not top of their list." "But he deals in used cars." "I mean, you can't hide them." "On paper, he's an employee on minimum wage." "Everything else is cash." "So, there's nothing you can do?" "His kid's got leukaemia." "Yeah, we know all about Joe." "And if there was something we could do, we'd have done it." "It says here Tully's a potential bone-marrow donor." "Lindsey and her dad aren't a match." "And...?" "Closest we came was a couple of months ago." "What happened?" "We found out he was in Southampton, so we sent an officer." "By the time he's got there..." "Macavity wasn't there." "Now, they tracked Tully down to Southampton a couple of months ago." "Yeah." "Didn't find him, though." "Ah." "Except, the collection agent was there about the same time Tully made that ten-grand pay-off." "Right?" "You think the agent's bent?" "Any work I do for the CSA is strictly no collection, no fee." "I don't even charge expenses." "Oh, that's good of you." "Yeah, well, my dad left when I was a kid." "Only, back then there was no-one to go after him." "I know what it's like." "So, Southampton was a dead-end?" "It's definitely him." "Mr Hancock?" "Sorry?" "£10,000, Sainsbury's carrier bag." "Wrong person, love." "What about Gary Tully?" "Couple of months ago." "Does that ring any bells?" "Probably calling himself Michael Trent." "He was lying..." "Why don't we go and get a coffee, eh?" "OK." "So, I found Tully." "He wasn't bothered." "Thought it was a big joke." "Said I was welcome to any cash I could find." "I said, 'Why don't we get the cops to look after you, while I search for it?" "'" "So what?" "Did he make a counter-offer?" "Ten grand, no questions asked?" "What happened next, Mr Hancock?" "Did you get a bit greedy?" "Ask for some more, or else?" "No." "I never saw him again." "Really?" "Where were you Thursday afternoon, then?" "Catford." "Shouting the odds over a repossession, in the street." "Witnessed by about, oh, 20 people." "How did you contact Tully?" "When you went to Southampton." "A mobile number." "Told him I had some Mercs that needed shifting." "How did you get that number?" "Father-in-law." "Philip Donovan." "No, you're barking up the wrong tree." "Phil's a good bloke." "That bloody machine!" "Phil works harder than blokes half his age." "Never complains." "I wish my other drivers were like him." "He does overtime an' all." "All so he can provide for his sick grandson." "Where was he on Thursday afternoon?" "Pentonville Road, Upper Street and Cally Road." "Has he ever missed a pick-up?" "I'd know about it pretty sharpish if he did." "Restaurants don't like dirty tablecloths." "Can we keep that, please?" "And where will we find him now?" "Hammersmith." "So, I had his number." "So what?" "You told us you didn't know where he was." "I didn't." "He could have been anywhere." "Mr Donovan..." "OK." "Look, I got his number from a guy who'd sold him a car." "As easy as that?" "Do you know how many of his old contacts I had to bribe?" "Then what?" "It was a business number, which he never answered." "You had to leave a message." "If he thought it was kosher, he'd call you back." "That way, he only had to turn his phone on long enough to listen - he couldn't be tracked." "That's clever." "Slippy." "I just left a message." "I told him Joe needed a bone-marrow transplant and if he had a shred of decency, he'd get himself tested." "I didn't hear back." "Now, do you mind?" "Notice the colour of his sweatshirt?" "Yeah." "Thing is, Sam, there are plenty of green sweatshirts in London, eh?" "More to the point, if he's sitting on all that dosh, why's he still lugging laundry about?" "Well, maybe the money's not for him." "You see that new iPad the kid had?" "Yep." "That's worth over 500 quid." "So, where did they get the money for that, then?" "You can pick your weapons." "My favourite's the 357 Magnum, with Peashooter as back-up." "Peashooter?" "My gun's nickname." "It's a nice bit of kit." "Granddad got it for me." "Nice of him." "When did he do that?" "Yesterday." "Excuse me." "What do you think you're doing?" "Just admiring Joe's new iPad." "Not any more, you're not." "You do not talk to him without my permission." "Which we would have asked for, if you'd been there." "Ask now." "Your father brought in an iPad for your son yesterday morning." "So...?" "So, it's the day after someone shot your ex-husband and helped themselves to 250 grand." "We sold the last of Mum's jewellery." "It wasn't much, but it's all Dad had left of her." "We told Joe that Granddad had bought it for him." "It's the thing that he wanted most in the world." "We didn't want Joe to know that we were skint." "After all she's been through, now this." "We've still got to ask the question, Sam." "Now, Philip Donovan is Mr Reliable, right?" "Set your watch by him, apparently." "Really?" "Then how did he find the time to go and buy an iPad, and then bring it in here to his grandson yesterday morning?" "I don't know, Ronnie." "Maybe he just got up early." "You reckon?" "Well, according to his roster," "Phillip Donovan on Friday morning is supposed to be making a pick-up at a brasserie round the corner from Tully's hotel." "So, when did he find the time to make that pick-up?" "We spoke to the brasserie manager, and you were there around 5pm, he said." "Was I?" "You changed your route." "Tully would have walked right past you on his way back from the off-licence." "If you say so." "Mr Donovan, you're under arrest, so you're entitled to a brief." "You understand that, don't you?" "I've got nothing to hide." "At this moment, your flat is being searched by experienced police officers who...well, let's face it - they know all the hiding places." "So, if you've got anything to tell us, now's the time." "Why?" "What do you think you're gonna find?" "If you're seen to co-operate..." "It's a pity you didn't make this much effort to get that shit to pay us." "Where were you then?" "No, you haven't got enough, without an admission, which I don't see happening." "Leyton." "OK..." "I'm coming down." "I wanted to see Joe on Friday." "That's all." "Yes, which is why you changed your route." "That's right." "But there was no other reason?" "You bump into Gary, you go up to his room, ask him for the money he owes you." "It gets ugly..." "And I magic the gun up from where?" "For the record, Detective Inspector Leyton has just entered the room." "I'm showing Mr Donovan two rolls of £50 notes." "Found in a packet of frozen peas in your flat." "Do you wanna tell me how you came by the money?" "I won it." "On the horses." "That's lucky." "Which horse?" "All right, then, which race?" "What were the odds?" "Philip, I can't imagine what you, your daughter, your family, your loved ones have been through." "I really can't." "I think now's the time to tell us the truth." "Don't you?" "I saw him." "On the street." "I went up to his room." "And you came by the money how?" "I think maybe it's time for that brief." "Don't you?" "No CCTV of my client, no independent witnesses, no murder weapon, no forensic evidence." "This is going to be fun." "We've got the money, Eleanor." "Some money, Jake, which can't be linked to Gary Tully." "Philip Donovan admits to going up to Gary Tully's room." "And he swears Gary was alive when he left." "Do you have proof otherwise?" "Still a bit new to this, I expect." "We've got motive." "Oh, this is an elderly man who just cares for his daughter and his dying grandson." "And who hated Gary Tully." "Well, so did a lot of people." "Yeah, but they didn't kill him." "Then let's go to court." "I'll tell the story of a man, wrongly accused, who did everything he could to help his family, and the story of the man who did everything he could not to." "Reasonable prospect of conviction?" "Tell him, Kate." "Eleanor's right, of course." "Our case is iffy, at best." "I can put him at the scene." "I've got motive." "I've got the money." "And Eleanor Flint has the sympathy card." "She'll make this about personalities." "Let her." "It doesn't alter the facts." "Which are what?" "You can't prove Philip Donovan was even in the hotel room when Tully died." "You do know round here we do the prosecuting, don't you?" "Philip Donovan is not a criminal mastermind." "He hid the cash in the frozen peas, for God's sake." "He'll have made mistakes." "He has to have done." "That gun must have come from somewhere." "How did he get it?" "And what did he do with it afterwards?" "According to the police, he went back to the depot." "How did Donovan seem that night?" "We didn't speak." "It was late." "I was on my way out." "Anyone else speak to him?" "The place was nearly empty." "Are you gonna put all that back?" "So, Philip Donovan hot-foots it back here from the hotel." "He's scared, confused, and he doesn't want to just throw a gun in the bin, in case someone finds it." "He wants to dispose of it properly." "He stashes the gun, so he can take care of it later." "But unfortunately... ..for Mr Donovan..." "..we arrest him first." "Yeah." "22-calibre?" "What are the chances of that, eh?" "Jake." "The ballistics match." "The gun was wiped down, but they lifted a partial thumb-print." "Philip Donovan's?" "Ah, you're bonding." "That's nice." "Over the ballistic report." "The one that matches the gun to your client." "So, if you want to change your plea, now would be a good time." "It's still not guilty." "We've got his prints, Eleanor." "Which is why I'll be running self-defence." "According to you, Donovan wasn't even there." "New instructions." "They argued." "Tully pulled a gun." "It went off in the struggle." "Tully pulled the gun?" "A copy of the licence." "The gun was Tully's." "So, Gary Tully was armed." "You think he was expecting trouble?" "Maybe that money made him nervous." "It's easier for Eleanor to run self-defence." "She can run what she likes." "It's still murder." "So, sufficient evidence?" "Yes." "And public interest." "How about reasonable prospect of conviction?" "No." "Why not?" "There's no proof of intent." "They met on the street." "Philip Donovan wasn't armed." "It wasn't planned." "On top of that, Eleanor will argue reasonable force." "She'll say that Tully was the aggressor and that Donovan was in fear of his life." "What jury wouldn't agree?" "Is Philip Donovan really the sort to go for someone half his age holding a gun on him?" "Who knows?" "Lindsey Donovan might." "Are you gonna send Dad to prison?" "That's Crown Prosecutor Barker's job, these days." "Doesn't sound right, does it?" "Look, my dad is a good, kind man." "Does he have a temper?" "Only at injustices." "You know, when different rules apply." "Corporate bosses not taking the blame." "Footballers getting away with speeding - that sort of thing." "Ex-husbands not paying their way?" "OK." "What about your ex?" "Would you characterise him as violent?" "Is he the sort who'd pull a gun?" "The day I told Gary I was divorcing him, he decided to return the favour by using me as an ashtray." "Does that answer your question?" "Tell Ms Flint we'll accept a plea to manslaughter." "Loss of control, fear that Tully would use serious violence." "I still think - Let's put this one to bed, Jake." "It's turning toxic." "He's right, Jake." "And manslaughter - I mean, it's something." "It's settling." "How?" "You can't make your case." "Don't you mean 'we' can't?" "Where's the proof?" "Eleanor says they met, they argued, Tully pulled a gun." "Does anyone say different?" "I say it's a hell of a coincidence." "Then try this: a couple of days after he died, the girlfriend says the hospital wrote to Tully." "I checked - he'd made an appointment for a test." "To see if he was a match for his son." "So?" "So, the man was a potential donor." "You really think Philip Donovan was looking to kill him?" "Plead guilty to manslaughter - you'd be out in two years." "Be there for your daughter." "But go to trial, be found guilty of murder?" "You'll die in prison." "Seriously, Jake?" "I'm laying out for your client exactly what he faces." "Emotional blackmail now?" "Your daughter's going to need you." "What help will you be to her inside?" "Two years?" "Or a lifetime." "Or none." "It's your choice." "I begged him." "Philip, I suggest - No, I want to." "I told Gary we were desperate - we couldn't do it on our own." "The cost of looking after Joe..." "He's the best boy in the world." "It's OK." "At first I thought he was gonna help." "He got out this bag of money." "He said: did I really think he was that much of a mug?" "Then he got this gun out." "I couldn't believe it." "It was like a movie." "And I'm thinking: this is it, and he said he was gonna teach me a lesson, and I'm looking at Peashooter..." "I was terrified." "I sort of threw myself at him and grabbed his arm and..." "I don't know." "It...just went off." "OK." "Manslaughter." "I can do this if you'd rather." "No." "I want to." "Eleanor's been calling the shots for too long." "It's my turn now." "Are you Philip Michael Donovan?" "Yes." "You have been charged on an indictment alleging one count of murder contrary to common law." "How do you plead?" "Not guilty." "My client pleads guilty to the charge of manslaughter, My Lord." "Is that an acceptable plea to the Crown?" "No, My Lord." "The Crown intends to proceed on the count of murder on the indictment." "What?" "We go to trial." "A nickname?" "You've hauled us in here for a nickname?" "When the police talked to your grandson, he called his gun Peashooter." "On a game, for God's sake." "The same name you used for Gary Tully's gun." "This is inappropriate and illegal." "I mis-spoke." "Don't talk to him." "Is that right?" "Who do you think you are?" "And I hope you're happy you crossed over." "Proud?" "My sympathies." "I hope the regular pay cheque makes it worthwhile." "This meeting's over." "Peashooter's real, isn't it?" "Joe said it's the name that you gave Gary Tully's gun, the gun he saw in your flat." "Gary never took it after the divorce." "It was in the hotel room because you brought it." "Philip Donovan had the gun." "His daughter gave it to him, for protection." "New instructions?" "Again?" "Tully saw the gun sticking out of his pocket." "He grabbed it." "Tully was still the aggressor." "My client was still in fear for his life." "Nice story." "Pity it isn't true." "Well, let the jury decide." "That's what you want, isn't it?" "Accept the plea, I said." "Did I not make myself clear?" "Henry..." "If you go to trial, this will turn into a beauty pageant." "And Philip Donovan's a lot prettier than Gary Tully." "We won't let that happen." "Juries always do what you want them to?" "He had the gun." "Which his daughter gave him for his own protection." "You want to throw the book at her for that?" "She must know something." "She won't give evidence against her own father." "Fine." "Tell her, unless she co-operates, we'll have her on joint enterprise." "Oh, yes." "That will play wonderfully well!" "A witch hunt for the woman with the dying son." "That's in the public interest!" "He happened to be carrying this gun when he bumped into Tully on the day that he changed his route?" "Coincidence." "I'm a prosecutor." "No such thing." "Look, Philip Donovan changed his route so he could see Joe the next morning, which put him near Tully's hotel that afternoon." "Why?" "Why that morning?" "Why that afternoon?" "Who knew Tully would be at the hotel that afternoon?" "Are you kidding me?" "What?" "Not even a 'Hello, Detective'?" "'You're looking especially dapper today'?" "We've said all we have to say." "If you'd never met him before, how did Gary Tully, or, as you knew him, Michael Trent, know to call you?" "Maybe he Googled us." "Philip Donovan." "Ever heard of him?" "Never." "He wants to buy a car?" "We can make him a good deal." "Right, this is what's gonna happen." "You remember you come to the station with me and we spoke about VIN numbers and chassis numbers?" "Well, in a couple of hours the men from Customs and Revenue are gonna be here, and you know the sort of search and seizure powers they have." "The sort we only dream of." "They'll check everything - paperwork, pesky stuff like VAT..." "OK, OK." "There was a middle man." "He told us about this guy, always on the look-out for classy motors." "So we called him." "Well, why didn't you tell us this before?" "Look, we go to a meeting and a guy's dead." "Maybe we think we've been set-up." "Or maybe you wanted to keep the middle man to yourselves." "So, where can we find this man?" "Or will he be in little pieces somewhere?" "Please." "We are not animals." "His name is Hancock." "He's a collection agent." "I didn't do anything." "But you fixed it so that Tully came to London, didn't you, Mr Hancock?" "And that's illegal, is it?" "Who are you?" "The Stasi?" "Do you really want to go with sarcasm right now?" "You see, we think that the only reason" "Tully was persuaded to come to London in the first place was so that he could be killed." "And if we find out you knew that... then that, my friend, is conspiracy to murder." "You may as well have pulled the trigger yourself." "You can't do that." "It was Philip Donovan." "The plan was to bring Tully to town." "And then what?" "Get him arrested, recover the money." "He promised me a cut, which he stiffed me on." "So, it was all Donovan's idea?" "Yeah, but he never said anything about a bloody gun." "He's lying." "A witness statement from Darryl Hancock that says otherwise." "From a self-confessed liar and cheat." "It says how you got him to have the Kopecky brothers contact Tully, arrange a meet." "That's ridiculous." "Hancock told you where the meeting was, you turned up ahead of it, killed Tully and took the money." "Using the gun you gave him." "Which makes you part of all this." "This has nothing to do with her." "You don't kill a potential donor." "It depends how much you hate them." "It's absurd." "Let's see if the jury agrees." "We knew he wasn't a match for Joe." "Lindsey had some old medical records." "So I got Hancock to bring Tully there." "Why not just have him arrested?" "Recover the money that way?" "You saw how he ran rings around the CSA." "Joe's dying." "How much time do you think we've got?" "So you stole the money." "Yes." "And killed Gary Tully." "Yes." "So, Philip Donovan will plead guilty to murder?" "And hope for a sympathetic judge." "And all without Eleanor comparing Donovan to Tully." "She'd have had the jury wanting to kill him themselves." "Well, he was going to be tested for a bone-marrow transplant." "Wasn't picky where he put his cigarettes out, though." "OK, well, I just wanted to say..." "You were right, Jacob, and I was... less so." "Gracious of you." "It was, wasn't it?" "I don't think getting that test done was such a big deal." "Surely they could have just checked his records, like the Donovans did." "Fancy a drink?" "Yeah, I'd like that." "Jake..." "What sort of records did Lindsey Donovan have?" "I've got nothing to say to you." "I spoke to the transplant team, Lindsey." "I know." "Why you conspired with your father to kill your ex-husband." "Medical records won't tell you if someone's a donor match." "You have to be tested for that." "But they will tell you their blood type." "They will tell you if they're not the father of your child." "Why did Gary change his mind?" "All that time, not caring, and then suddenly he wants to get tested." "It was Dad." "He told Gary that if he got tested... ..we'd drop the CSA claim." "Just like that?" "Dad was so happy." "But you weren't." "I always knew there was a chance that Gary wasn't Joe's father." "But I kept that to myself." "Well, afterwards, Dad wondered why I wasn't jumping up and down." "Because you knew the second Gary found out he wasn't Joe's father, your claim for child support would go up in a puff of smoke." "You'd have nothing." "They told us about this new drug." "Joe's consultant said the early signs are very promising." "You can't get it on the NHS." "Do you know what that means?" "That means that my son's life's not worth saving." "That's a six-week course." "It's £2,000 a day." "They told me it would maybe lengthen Joe's life by a year..." "..maybe two." "Do you have kids?" "No." "I can pretty much tell you the number of nights that I have left..." "..watching him go to sleep..." "..the smell on the back of his neck..." "..his heart beating..." "What have I done?" "You know she's as guilty as her dad." "We can't prove her dad made a deal with Gary to be tested, and Philip Donovan isn't gonna to talk." "So, we build a case." "We speak for the victim, Kate." "Because no-one else does." "There's no way that this does not punish the kid as well." "Well, Tully is not even the boy's father." "He owes them nothing." "Yeah, but Ronnie, if she goes to trial, Joe's gonna die alone." "Lindsey Donovan has to answer for what she did." "And you're OK with that, are you?" "We don't get to ask that one, Sammy." "Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells"