- What do you mean, you won't let me in? - You're angry again.
Because a woman I hardly know is stopping me from seeing my father.
What's happened to you?
Your father was living with his older brother.
Clive actually used to send me Christmas cards.
We have enough on Grayson and Baildon right now.
Let's put them under some pressure.
What if something happened to me
that meant you had to do it all on your own?
You know the documents for Dean Barton? He changed his surname.
His real name is Dean Quinn.
They're my family, but they're not the kind of people
that I'd wanna bring into your life, or the kids'.
There's a woman at the door. Er, she says she's your mum.
Matthew Walsh died that night, and you then all colluded.
Is there anything you would like to tell us, DCC Baildon?
No comment.
Our object, it's a pen.
This means he definitely was stabbed?
They've got serial numbers,
which might give you the name of the purchaser.
I thought it was an accident.
Otherwise, I would never have covered it up.
Hey, boss... we're getting there.
Hey, Dad, it's me.
Listen, I don't wanna do this on a message,
but can you call me, please? I really wanna speak to you.
All We Do by Oh Wonder
? All we do is hide away
? All we do is All we do is hide away
? All we do is lie in wait
? All we do is All we do is lie in wait
? I've been upside down
? I don't wanna be The right way round
? Can't find paradise On the ground. ?
*CREDITS*
Where have you been?
Excuse me. DI Khan.
I'm looking for a woman brought in. She was involved in an RTC.
What will we say to the kids?
Maybe enough has been said already.
Maybe now we just wait.
- Hello? - Hey, is that Adam?
- Yep. - Hi, Adam. It's Sunny Khan here.
Oh, yeah, yeah! Hey, Sunny.
Er, listen... your mum has been involved in an accident in her car.
She's at Whitford General. You should probably get down here.
Circulation?
Patient stable. Happy to go straight to CT.
- Sue? - Got traction on this fracture,
good cap refill, and I've got a pedal pulse.
OK, pupils are sluggish.
- One, or both? - One.
Let's get her to CT. Could be a bleed.
Where did you go?
I needed some space.
- Hey. - Oh, my God!
Lizzie, what's happened?
You OK?
Do you have any idea of what happened?
No. They've got one witness who was a hundred yards away.
Didn't really see it, just heard the smash.
The other vehicle apparently drove away.
They're checking for CCTV right now.
And she was OK when she left you? I mean, she...
You don't think she could've...? She wouldn't have done this...?
She was fine.
She... She looked tired, she was distracted, but...
OK, OK, OK.
And then, one night,
it was right at the end of my training...
I made a terrible mistake.
It happened in the blink of an eye, but it changed my life forever.
So that...
shame and...
guilt and fear sat inside me for...
nearly three decades.
And it... it stopped me from doing so many things, Jan.
It stopped me getting close to people,
it stopped me living a life,
until, in the end, all I had was my job.
And I'm telling you this...
because I want you to know that you changed all that.
However you did it, you allowed me...
to forget my past.
You allowed me to stop running.
To slow down.
To live.
And to love.
Except now...
I have to tell you who I really am.
- Mr Hughes. - Martin, please. Where is she?
I'll take you up.
- Hey, Adam. - Hey.
OK, can you fast bleep the neuros, please?
Yeah, sure.
I think they're gonna come for me.
Today or tomorrow or the day after, but they'll come,
because the others will be saying it was me.
Maybe they even believe it was.
And I'll fight them.
I'll do everything to prove that I didn't kill anyone...
because I didn't.
But I'm tired, Anna.
I feel like I've been fighting all my life,
and I'm so tired that maybe, this time, I won't win.
Which means that they might, and I'll go to prison.
And, er...
I have to tell you this so that you, or we,
can make a decision based on how things might turn out.
And I'm so sorry for that.
So we're preparing her for surgery right now,
and it's an involved operation.
But we have one of the best neuro teams in the world here,
so she's in absolutely the best place she could be.
Would you marry me, Sal?
You serious?
Completely. Would you?
Yeah.
Yeah, I would.
So, the way I've been feeling, the struggle...
it's about me. Could I be happy?
And I can't rationalise it, but in the last day or so,
when I've thought about him, I have started to feel that.
I know there might be physical issues, maybe serious ones,
and I know there will be times when it is hard, but all kids are hard.
Right now, I've stopped thinking of him
as a baby with Down's syndrome,
and I've started to think of him as our baby.
So, no matter what happens with you...
turns out I've started to fall in love with him, too.
- Hey. - Hey.
- Where is she? - She's just gone in.
- To surgery? - Yeah.
Right, OK.
- Wow. - Yeah...
Hey.
- So, she's out. - Of surgery?
Yeah. Spoke to one of the nurses. So she's on her way up to ICU,
and the nurse thinks it went OK.
- Really? - Yeah.
I mean, he said, obviously, we have to speak to the consultant,
but he thinks it went really well.
- Can we go and see her? - He's just checking now.
I said I'd go back up in ten minutes.
OK.
OK, I'll, erm... I'll let Dan know. He's about to get a flight.
But, sorry, just to be clear - you genuinely think it's possible
one of your suspects might've done this?
Well, I mean, that would be nuts, obviously,
but suspects sometimes do nuts things, so if I were you,
I'd be asking them where they were when she was hit.
I'd be looking at their cars, if it was stolen...
I'd be looking at their prints, clothes fibres, the lot.
I'm on it.
OK, guys, could I have a moment, please?
It's the one thing I can be sure she'd want us to be doing right now,
is carrying on with our jobs...
and doing every thing we can to find Matthew's killer.
And, as ever...
I can see no good reason to go against her wishes.
OK, Fran, what have you got?
Hi. Er, Clive, is it?
Yes.
Hello, Uncle Clive.
We've never met, but I'm your nephew, Jerome.
Dean Barton/Quinn's brother, Stephen Quinn, died in August 1989.
He was four years older than Dean.
Found in the street with a fatal knife wound.
No-one ever arrested, no witnesses,
although the original report suggests the Quinns
had a good idea who was to blame, they closed ranks.
Where did the attack take place?
Ellerfield Road, Colindale, near where they lived at the time.
Why does that ring a bell?
I dunno. It'll come. Anything else?
Oh, just anecdotal stuff from the door-to-doors,
that Stephen was not like the other brothers.
A quiet lad, academic, not a fighter at all,
so it was an odd one.
OK, thank you. Good detail. Er, Murray?
So, Dean Barton has a number of accounts -
three business, one personal joint with his wife.
And three others - bills, current and for savings,
and there was nothing of interest in any of them.
OK.
Then I found one other account listed with his,
but not in his name.
Now, that account is in the name of "Georgie Graves".
Dean set it up, and he's the signatory,
and the account identifier is "godson".
Now, Dean makes regular payments of 40 quid a month into that account,
but that's literally all the activity there is.
Except until nine days ago,
when there was a lump sum payment in,
then quickly out, of 10K.
OK, and where did that money come from?
Er, deposited in cash to a branch in Rochester High Street.
And where did it then go to?
To an account in the name of Grace Williams.
Now, I did a little digging...
and it turns out that that just happens to be the maiden name
of the first wife of Ram Sidhu.
Wow.
Er... how far back did you go with those accounts?
- Five years. - Mm.
- Go back further. - Guv.
I wanted you to know that we absolutely got your message...
and everything is fine.
And as soon as you're better,
we want you to know that everything will be back to normal.
Back to...
street food on a Sunday on the South Bank...
and the B&B at Port Gaverne at Easter.
And you and me and Adie watching the World Cup...
and you always asking when the interval is,
and us pretending that you were serious.
It's all coming back, sweetheart. Promise you.
That... and much, much more.
All of it.
DCI Sidhu, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.
- Hello, DI Khan's phone. - Hi, it's Alfie Birch from the lab.
I have news for you guys on your pen.
So, I've ran various tests...
So we do now have a witness who can identify you by name
as being the young man involved in a fight with Matthew Walsh
in the Ifield Pub three weeks before he died.
- What witness? - The landlady, Suzie Montgomery.
Mm, well, I'm sorry, but she's wrong. It wasn't me.
Except we have another witness who also says that it was.
- Who? - Fiona Grayson.
And Fiona has given us a lot of detail about what happened
between you and Matthew Walsh in the pub,
but also a lot of detail about what happened
the night of Walsh's death.
Do you have anything that you wanna add to what you told us
in our last discussion, Ram?
- Cos this is your opportunity... - What's she told you?
Well, I'd prefer to hear your side of things first.
It was Rob who spotted him. I was half asleep.
It was Rob who decided to pull over.
OK, so you lied before?
It was also Rob who suggested we give him a tug.
- And how did Rob know him? - He was in the pub that night.
There's no recollection by anyone else of him being there.
He was a quiet lad, tended to fade into the background.
- Yeah, quiet and six foot five. - Well, he was there.
It was him who spotted Walsh and got out first.
Oh, so you now admit also that you got out of the car?
I did, yes.
So you lied about that before as well?
So, did you also run after him, after Matty Walsh?
I walked.
You walked after the guy who, just a few weeks before,
had knocked seven shades of shit out of you?
Yes.
OK.
- And then, when you found him...? - I didn't find him.
How do you mean?
I didn't even find Rob or the others after they got out.
I didn't find any of them, so I headed home.
But you were in the car when it got pulled over.
So... after maybe 15 minutes of looking for the others,
I decided to head back to the main road,
hope for a night bus.
About half a mile down the road,
maybe 40 minutes after I first got out of the car, it pulled up -
Rob behind the wheel.
I got in. Everybody seemed a bit weird,
I asked them what had happened. No-one said much.
Then we got pulled over by a traffic cop about five minutes later.
OK. Very different version of events to Fiona Grayson's.
Well, she's gonna save her own back, isn't she?
Blame someone else. They'll all do the same.
As indeed would you, I presume.
Mm. Except I'm telling the truth.
Despite us having three good witnesses, who say they saw
an Asian man chasing Matthew Walsh.
It was dark, I'm dark - a defence lawyer would make mincemeat of them.
"H3-2967."
- Is that what you see? - That's what I see.
- Brilliant. Thanks so much. - Send Cass my best.
I will.
So, six days ago, a phone mast picked up a signal from your phone,
heading down the A3.
I mention it because we also picked up Dean Barton's phone, same day,
coming down from Rochester, and about the same time,
also heading down the B3256 -
this very small B-road in Surrey.
He switched his phone off about a mile down that road.
Did you meet him somewhere down there, Ram?
- No. - No?
No. What were you doing down there, then?
I went for a walk to clear my head.
I've got some personal issues going on in my life.
Mm. Right.
It's a bit of a coincidence, isn't it?
Dean Barton, a bloke that you say that you haven't seen for 30 years,
also happens to be down there at the same time?
Is it?
60 miles from his house, 30 from yours.
But let's agree for now that it was a coincidence.
What isn't one, though, is the ten grand
Dean Barton transferred to your ex-wife's bank account
just nine days ago.
We checked with your ex, Grace,
and she had vague recollection of opening an online account with you
many years ago, but had absolutely no idea that it still existed.
Nor that from 2001 to 2008, three or four times a year,
lump sums of £5,000 were paid into that account
from the same account the 10,000 was sent from the other day.
An account run by Dean Barton.
We also checked your landline calls a couple of days either side
of the recent payment. Can you tell me, DCI Sidhu,
why you called the desk line of an Andy Renfold,
a customs officer at the Port of Fenmarsh,
the day the money appeared in your account?
No comment.
You and Dean Barton clearly have an ongoing relationship
going back many years, involving him giving you money.
With the Fenmarsh customs connection,
and the Barton family's criminal history,
it's not a massive leap to guess that this has something to do with
drug importation and bribery.
- Would I be on the right lines? - No comment.
So I have to ask you, why you, as a serving police officer,
might be susceptible to bribery.
What might Dean Barton hold over you, DCI Sidhu?
I didn't kill him.
I found him on the ground, bleeding from the head...
..next to a wall.
I tried to save him.
Ask the others, they were there. I gave him CPR.
I did everything I could to save him.
I'm not a murderer.
We found that at your desk.
How long have you used a fountain pen, DCI Sidhu?
You know, sometimes, I've felt slightly like apologising to you.
For Mum, I mean, over the last year, cos she's so not been herself.
When she's out of this, when the job's finished,
I just know you're gonna see a whole new side to her.
But here's the thing -
even with all the crap that's been going on in her life,
I can just see how happy you've made her, John.
And will make her.
So, thank you.
No thanks required.
Your mum is a belter.
I won the lottery the day I met her.
Cigne Pens. Good morning.
Hi there. It's DC Kaz Willets, Bishop Street Station.
Oh, how can I help?
I'm just trying to track down the purchaser of one of your pens.
- Come on up. - Thanks.
I'd like to start, Dean, with the night of Matthew Walsh's death,
because the account that you gave my colleague
now differs significantly from what we've since heard
from both Ram Sidhu and Fiona Grayson.
So, is there anything that you'd like to change?
Yeah.
OK, what would you like to change?
So, erm, after your colleague left, I went back over that night,
had a really good think about it,
erm, and it was only then that I remembered that, actually,
I'd slept for most of the journey.
So whilst I said that the car hadn't stopped
before it was pulled over by the police,
it might well have done,
but it's just that I would've had no recollection of it.
OK. Well, once again, that doesn't chime
with what both Ram Sidhu and Fiona Grayson have told us.
What they're now saying is that when it first stopped,
you did, in fact, get out of the car,
you did go after Matthew Walsh,
and then, later, you did help put his body in the boot of the car.
Whoever said that is misremembering or covering their own back.
OK, if... IF somebody stuck a body in the back of the car
whilst I was asleep...
I mean, it's possible, I guess. I knew nothing about it.
So you knew nothing of the events of that night at all?
No!
So, tell me, Dean, how on earth did
you manage to convince Ram Sidhu,
an intelligent and ambitious young police officer,
to become part of your cocaine smuggling operation?
What cocaine smuggling operation?
I am showing the suspect exhibit MB001,
a selection of bank statements from an account set up by you, Dean,
detailing multiple money transfers between this account
and another account linked with Ram Sidhu.
A couple of hours ago,
police arrested a customs officer called Andy Renfold.
Been very cooperative already, apparently.
And over the next few weeks, our forensics finance teams
will be all over your financial history,
and, I suspect, given time, will be able to prove
that you were importing cocaine through the port at Fenmarsh.
So, again, I ask you, was it just coincidence
that your old friend from Hendon was so easily corruptible,
or did you have some unique kind of leverage over him?
No comment.
Did you witness him involved in the murder of Matthew Walsh?
No comment.
- Did you see him stab him in the head? - No comment.
- Did you then help dispose of the body? - No comment.
Let's take a break there.
What is it?
I don't know.
Why didn't he just throw Sidhu under the bus?
Felt weird. Something we're missing.
Oh, and, er, Rob sends his love.
Been in the wars himself.
Remember his teeth thing,
the implants he had done in Budapest?
He had them filed down in the end so he could shut his mouth properly,
and then, last week, one of them fell out
literally whilst he was kissing his new girlfriend.
She almost swallowed it, which, as he said,
"Wouldn't have gone down well, Adie.
"Wouldn't have gone down well at all."
Fuck!
What?
Yardley Crescent, where the Walshes lived - that's NW9.
Colindale, that's NW9.
And Ellerfield Road, where Stephen Quinn was stabbed, where's that?
Er...
- It's... right in between. - Mm.
So how's about Matthew Walsh killed Stephen Quinn?
Two skanky criminal families living half a mile from each other,
what are the chances they were rivals?
High.
The knife wound that Stephen Quinn suffered...
- where was it on his body? - Er...
-
Oh, man... In the head.
So, Stephen Quinn is stabbed by Matthew Walsh
in some sort of territorial dispute?
Yeah, and the Quinns know who did it, or at least they guess,
and they're biding their time for payback.
And then, that night, driving back from the party,
Sidhu sees Walsh, the lad he had a fight with three weeks previously...
Except what no-one else knows is that this is also the lad
that Dean believes murdered his brother.
She'll be proud of you.
Guys... I have got a right result with our pen.
So, the pen was a nice one. Cost north of a grand today.
And pens like that, Dean, they have serial numbers
which can identify who purchased them all these years later.
- Do you know who bought that one? - No.
It was your brother, Stephen.
What, so you think Stephen killed Walsh?
Unlikely. He'd been dead eight months by then.
So? So, Cigne, the company that make the pens,
have, for over a hundred years,
offered purchasers a free engraving service.
Initials, name, up to six letters.
Your brother bought this pen on August 2nd,
a week before your 18th birthday,
and their records show he asked for the initials "DB"
to be engraved on the lid because...
he'd bought it for you, Dean, hadn't he?
A present for a brother he hoped was destined for a better life
than the one that your surname prescribed.
And then, a few weeks later, he was murdered.
The brother you adored, who'd encouraged you to escape.
Your ally.
Stabbed through the eye with a knife by the man,
eight months later, you found unconscious in a patch of mud
on a north-west London allotment.
So, I've spoken to the CPS Homicide Unit, and at this point,
they are very happy for us to charge you with his murder.
This is your opportunity now, Dean, to tell us your side of the story.
I was a young man who'd, er...
who'd grown up...
drenched in violence.
From my father to my mother,
from my father to me and my brothers,
and between all of us and the rest of the world.
I used it. I was...
I was a victim of it every day of my life.
It was like breathing.
Which is why I stayed in the car for so long.
Because I knew.
I've no idea how I, er, how I found him first.
I mean, the others, they got out way before me.
But I did.
He'd obviously, er, tripped whilst he was running.
He'd hit his head on this low brick wall,
and, um, he'd knocked himself out.
And, at first, I just stood there looking at him, just...
trying to... just trying to stop myself, I think.
But, in the end, I couldn't.
Like I say, it was in my DNA.
So, I did it. I did it.
I did what he'd done to Stephen.
I stabbed him.
I pushed it through his wound, and I pushed, I pushed,
I fucking pushed...
Then I saw Ram.
He was coming through the trees, looking for him, so I left.
Came back, like, ten minutes later when...
when he was giving him CPR and the others had caught up.
What I did, it's dreadful.
Unusually... It's just appalling violence.
But it's... it's-it's who I was.
I tried to escape my past.
I failed at the first hurdle.
I can change my name...
try and...
remove myself from my family.
Try and make myself something better.
But we are who we are. I don't...
I don't think you can ever really change that.
For what it's worth, I did always think it was an accident, sir.
Not that that's any excuse, but's it's been exhausting,
running from my appalling mistakes all these years.
And when I come out of prison, I hope I can live a simpler life...
which allows me to help those less fortunate than me.
That goes in some way to making reparation.
So, goodbye, sir.
And, again, my sincerest apologies.
Your reparation has been the last three decades, Liz.
Good luck.
Thank you.
This way, Ma'am.
And you're sure there are no other connections he's concealed?
The kid's a career car thief.
- He's not a hitman. - OK, thanks, Mike. Speak soon.
Er... so, the other car, Range Rover, they now know,
was driven by a 24-year-old car thief.
He'd only nicked it five minutes before.
Tyre marks on the road support his claim that he braked hard.
He said she just pulled out in front of him.
Jesus.
Ramjeet Sidhu, you are charged that on 23rd March, 2020,
while acting as a public officer,
namely a police officer at Twickenham, London,
you did, without reasonable excuse or justification,
misconduct yourself in a way that would amount
to an abuse of the public trust by accepting monies in order to
facilitate the importation of a controlled substance.
You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence
if you do not mention something which you later rely on in court.
Anything you do say may be given in evidence.
Do you have anything to say?
When I was on my knees, over him,
and pumping his chest, and hoping, and praying,
my first thought, my absolute first thought was that...
we had to call an ambulance.
I never for one second stopped to consider
what that would mean for any of us. I just wanted to do the right thing.
And then I saw the way they were all looking at me, and in that moment,
I knew there was only one person they'd ever blame.
They accept that the rest of us didn't know what Dean had done,
but they're going to charge Ram, Liz and me
with preventing a lawful burial.
May or may not get a custodial sentence.
And the other stuff...?
Well... they obviously can't prove I was over the limit now,
so that might go away.
But I told them about the licence forgery,
and my lawyer thinks that's definitely a custodial.
Fiona, I am... beyond stunned by the things you've done and...
so hurt and angry that at no point in 17 years
did you think you could confide in me.
I'm also angry at myself.
For not seeing any of this, for not asking enough questions.
Being too accepting.
But, in the end, the simple truth is...
I don't find myself...
loving you any less.
Much as I feel that maybe I should, I don't.
I don't like who you were, and maybe I love that person less.
But you, here, now?
No.
So... I guess we try to move forward.
Deal with what happens next, as it happens.
Try and help the kids through it all, and just...
keep going.
Dean Calum Barton, you are charged that on the 30th March, 1990,
at Alperton in the City of London, you murdered Matthew Kieran Walsh,
contrary to common law.
You are also charged that on a date between the 22nd March, 2020
and the 24th March, 2020,
you did illegally import controlled substances,
contrary to Section 171
of the Customs and Excise Management Act 1979.
Do you have anything to say to either of these charges?
Tell his family I'm... I'm sorry.
It's a terrible, terrible thing that I did.
And I've regretted it every single day of my life.
So, please tell them that I am, erm... I'm so sorry.
OK. Come with me, Mr Barton.
That's it. Straight down.
What are you waiting for?
Go and tell her we did it. She did it. Again.
So, we knew from our scans that she'd had a bleed on her brain...
but when we opened her up,
it was actually significantly worse than we'd feared.
A substantial subdural haematoma,
which had caused extensive compression and bruising
to her brain.
And someone with that level of damage is,
I'm so sorry to say, very unlikely to recover brain function.
We will, of course, continue to monitor her
over the coming days,
we'll try to see if she can breathe independently, but...
- Grandad... - Martin!
Grandad...
Adam... let him go.
Go and look after your brother.
No...
Hey, Dad, me again.
Listen, maybe I'm not gonna get to speak to you today, so...
Er, I just wanted to say I'm sorry.
Again.
Seem to be spending my life apologising to you.
No excuses, apart from to say...
this job has just...
it's drained me.
It's stopped me from being able to think straight, see straight.
But it's ten-and-a-bit more weeks and then I'm done, and then...
I hope we can get back to normal.
And, of course, I get it, the will thing, and I...
I just feel like a total failure right now.
But I can be better. I will be better, I promise, and...
then, for however many years we'll have together...
we'll try and get back to normal.
Back to...
street food on the South Bank on a Sunday,
and the B&B at Port Gaverne at Easter,
and you and me and Adie watching the World Cup,
and me always asking when the interval is,
and you pretending I'm serious.
All of it, Dad, and much, much more. It'll come back. It will.
Anyway, call me when you get this,
and maybe I can take you and Jen out for dinner, clear the air.
That would be nice, wouldn't it?
I love you so much.
Hey, Dad, me again.
Listen, maybe I'm not gonna get to speak to you today, so...
So we've come together today to say, all of us,
in our different ways, goodbye to our beloved Cass.
It's not my place to talk about her as a mum, or as a daughter,
or as a partner.
I'm here today to talk about her as my colleague.
As a police officer.
And on that front, I can say, without a scintilla of doubt,
that she was the best I've ever met.
And it didn't matter if you were a victim of crime
or had taken the wrong path yourself.
She treated you the same.
Her place was not to judge, it was to pursue the truth,
and she did that affording everyone she interacted with
the same honesty, good manners and unfailing fairness.
Some of that decency was innate,
some of it was learned from the people who taught her,
but what it undoubtedly was...
was precious and rare.
And something that we, as an organisation -
indeed, as a society - need to remember to value.
Because we need more like them.
Because people like Cass Stuart are extraordinary.
So we can be sad that we've lost someone we adored
and who we will miss every day...
but we can also be grateful for the time we did have with her,
and for the impact she had on all our lives.
Cass Stuart was my colleague...
she was my mentor...
she was my friend.
And I loved her.
*CREDITS*