Everything's fine, Els, I promise. Please don't worry.
My feeling is that we both need a bit of time apart.
- Who is she? - It didn't mean anything. It's over.
The bullet passed through the left lung, exiting here.
If we find the bullet that killed her,
NABIS could even link us to a known offender.
Key information should really come to me first.
When you're in the office, I'll make sure they bring you stuff first.
I've decided I wanted shared custody now.
I'm not thinking I should have a termination.
Does that completely horrify you?
Taking advantage of a woman's inability to say "no"
because she's too drunk is not bloody funny.
I'm arresting you on suspicion of robbery and GBH.
What are you talking about?!
I am sorry.
So I'm giving you one last chance.
Our victim is also our thief.
Her name is Precious Falade. We're looking for a next of kin.
That would be her son or her mother.
We found a body in a house in Hammersmith,
and we believe that it's your daughter.
No!
- You don't recall ever visiting her there? - No.
- It told us what we needed. - Which is what?
That she was lying.
*CREDITS*
I've told you before, I'm not buying you Coco Hoops.
- But why not? - Cos they're not good for you.
They are, Mum. Honestly, I promise.
They're not good for me, then. Right, coats, bags.
There you are.
'Sorry, work's been mad.'
Have you spoken to Mum? Did she tell you what happened?
Yeah, listen, what time do you finish work?
- Can I come meet you? - Yeah, er... maybe six?
But, look, I can't guarantee anything.
I'm right in the middle of a...
'What about that place we went to before we saw Dolly?'
- Er, sure, but.. - I'm running into a meet.
- I'll see you at six? - Debs...
Sunny?
- "Bye, then." - I... um...
Miles away. Have a lovely day.
Erm, we'll talk later tonight, yeah?
- Sure. - Er... Erm, sorry.
I've got to take this. I'll be back home early.
OK? Love you.
Thomas, the plasterboard, what have you got for me?
_
The loneliness, the inequality,
the hostility at the time I was there.
It wears you down, man.
And down, and down.
Till you become someone who isn't you.
Someone you don't even like.
But apart from that...
_
OK, so her friends, her family, any criminal associates.
Where did she live? If she worked, where did she work?
Basically, the more we know about her,
the more chance we have of working out how she died.
So, Murray, let's see if she had a bank account,
ditto mobile phone.
I want to know when everything stopped -
her last phone call, last bank transaction.
Both could help determine date of death.
Ma'am.
Er, any update on the C&C check on the house?
- Coming later today, apparently. - OK.
Er, so, we have now identified her mother
and had a preliminary chat with her.
Er, Karen, anything on Ebele Falade on PNC?
Yeah. Just a bit. Erm...
Multiple arrests.
All apart from one seem to be alcohol-related.
Two D&D convictions, several thefts, several community penalties.
But then, back in 1986, we have an ABH charge
against a doorman of a City stockbrokers' office.
But here's the thing... it involved a firearm.
Any details on it?
Trying to see what we can dig up with the intel team.
And when did the other offences range from?
Early '80s to 2016.
OK. Erm...
So, we also now know that she had a grandson,
erm, Precious's son, Joseph.
Did you get anything more from social services on him, Frances?
Not a lot, Ma'am, erm...
Other than he was born in 1998 in Wales.
OK.
Again, quite a criminal record.
Er, we have various theft charges,
lots of drugs... possession and supply...
and then a gang-related battery charge
for which he did six months
at Prestwythn Young Offenders in 2014.
- No current address for him. - OK.
Let's go back to social services
and see if we can find him through them in Wales.
Am I right in thinking that Precious was transferred
to West London Social Services at some point?
October 2015.
OK, well, let's speak to them, see what they can give us.
Again, check in with PNC and link in with intel.
There's obviously a common thread growing of drink and violence
which may be germane to Precious's death.
- Mm-hm. - OK. Any more for any more?
Just one more thing, Ma'am.
I did actually test the rest of the plasterboard...
..and, erm, it is all from the '60s.
- There's no modern bit. - Right.
So... how does that work, then, given that we now know
that our victim is from 2016 at the earliest?
Well, the tech lab thinks it's been reused
because...
_
Sorry. Hang on.
- _ - Carry on.
Because they've used patches...
bits of, er, scrunched-up newspaper
that were used to fill in the bits that must have come off,
when it was taken down from wherever it was originally.
Why would you reuse plasterboard, though? Costs nothing.
Maybe if you were completely skint?
Maybe if you don't want any trace that you ever bought it?
I guess.
The more interesting thing, though,
is that the newspaper has a date on it.
Which means that if it was patched up when it went up,
then the chimney breast was covered on the 12th of July 2016.
OK, like that.
Thanks, everyone.
Oh, yeah, just one thing.
Can we lose the "Ma'am", everyone?
Just... "Guv" is fine.
"Guv" it is.
- DI Khan. - Sunny, it's Morten at the lab.
We've found blood.
'Lots of blood.'
Showing the suspect exhibit DS1.
It's a debit card in the name of Sophie Coulson,
found in the kitchen of the suspect.
- Do you recognise that? - No comment.
- Well, it's not yours, is it? - No comment.
So, how did this lady's card get there, in your kitchen?
- No comment. - Did you find it in the bag you stole from her?
No comment.
- How else could it have got there, then? - No comment.
OK. Er, now showing the suspect exhibit DS2.
This is CCTV footage
of the convenience store Treasure Corner.
Now... I think that's you there, fella.
No comment.
Because you've got a tattoo on your hand
- exactly just like this one here, haven't you? - No comment.
I can see it on your hand, right in front of me now.
No comment.
This is you, isn't it?
Using her card, stolen ten minutes before,
- half a mile away. Yeah? - No comment.
You find this boring?
- No comment. - I wonder if you'd find it boring
if I told you that the woman you mugged
was four months pregnant and very nearly lost her baby.
Is that boring?
Can I have a cup of tea, man? Fuckin' parched.
Oh...
The things they do to us.
The way they treat us.
How do they get away with it? Just...
How are they allowed to keep doing this?
"They"?
Who did you mean, "they"?
Do you mind?
This is a private moment with my dead daughter.
Can you... please leave?
Who did you mean?
Who do you think? Hm?
Men.
Cos that's who it'll be. A man.
It's always a man, isn't it?
I'll wait outside.
So, the CPS are happy to charge.
If you're cool, we'll get that done, and then we put him before the court
in the morning for a remand application.
- And what about bail? - He's not gonna get bail, Keith.
- Why? - Why d'you think?
His record, the crime, his total lack of any remorse.
He actually is remorseful. He just struggles to show it.
Yeah, well, maybe he can take some acting classes inside, then.
Funny!
Look, I know you're only doing your job, but, really?
You wanna fight for a bloke like that?
And I know you're only doing your job, but, yeah, I do, Phil.
You have literally zero idea of his story.
Yeah, well, I don't care about his story.
I care about the woman who nearly lost her child because of him.
But, hey, go for it, mate.
Apply for bail, and we'll turn it down.
So, 13, 14, 15 and 16, which were here to here.
Is this the amount of pooling you'd expect from a gunshot wound?
Under a prone body, yes.
We also found evidence of smearing between here and the fireplace.
Had anyone made any attempt to clean it up?
Think so, yes.
Because we found traces of cleaning materials,
but the blood had soaked deep into the wood,
so whoever tried to get rid of it,
they just wiped away the surface blood.
Can we test for DNA? Have we got enough material?
Absolutely. We're doing comparison tests with the victim right now.
- Apologies. - No worries.
Guv.
Ebele Falade has agreed to come in for a chat.
OK, wow, so soon.
You couldn't get enough of her yesterday.
'We'll be back at the nick in about 20,
'if you care to join me.'
- 20%? - Yes.
Babe, we were struggling to find a 10% deposit.
I know, but... if we want a baby, we'll need a bigger place, won't we?
So... we'll just need to tighten our belts, won't we?
So, you must think it very strange, my turning up like this.
And, er, in many ways,
I'm not entirely sure why I knocked on your door.
But I just, erm...
I played a game of table tennis with your son a few days ago.
Er, I saw something in him, a...
certain fire in his belly.
Reminded me of myself when I was his age.
Er, and, er, I-I know that life is tough around here, and...
I guess, I just wanted to ask
if there was anything I could do for you, Alaya?
A-And Mus. Your family.
Financially, or in any other way.
I studied economics, Lord Hume, back in Mogadishu.
So I knew who you were even before Mustafa talked about you.
And I am grateful for your kind offer, genuinely.
Mm.
But your money's not what we need. I mean, it might help us...
but what about our community,
our schools, our hospitals, our social care?
In fact, all the things your party de-funded for so many years.
Who sorts those out?
So I am sorry...
..but I suspect money from you
would really be more for your benefit than ours.
So, we're just trying to get as much information as possible
about your daughter,
about the sort of life that she lived...
at the time we think she might have died.
Do you know yet when she did die?
We're now pretty sure it was between
the 4th of June and the 12th of July, 2016.
Here.
OK, so, yesterday, when we spoke, you seemed a little uncertain
about when it was that you last saw Precious.
You thought possibly in 2014 or '15?
It was actually January 2016.
It was her birthday, the 15th. I, er, checked an old diary.
And, er, she'd gone back down from Wales
and was living in emergency accommodation in Shepherd's Bush.
OK, so she was homeless?
- Yes. - She never lived with you?
Hm... She had at various points in the past,
but it was too difficult, with her... issues.
And the last time that you saw her,
her son was with her at that point?
- No, he'd stayed up in Wales. - OK.
And, er, did you ever visit her there?
Once, many years ago.
OK, why just once?
Because of them.
- "Them"? - Yeah.
The cult.
"The cult"?
When she was 15, she was abducted by a cult.
They recruited members in London,
and they found her bunking off school
in a park in Ealing.
And, yeah, they just brainwashed her.
Which cult was this?
The Family Of Blessed Light, they called themselves.
Did you ever report this to the police?
No. She said she wanted to go with them.
Sorry, you... you said she was "abducted".
Right, well, that's what she said...
..a decade later when it was suddenly all my fault.
But, at the time, she said she wanted to go.
When she was 15?
She was a very strong-willed young woman,
very difficult to control,
endlessly suspended and expelled from many schools.
In the end, I thought it might actually be good for her.
Hard work in a remote farm, out of London.
So, this was when... when she first moved to Wales?
Mm. And I should also say
that she was pregnant at this point.
Er... By who?
She didn't say specifically,
but I think it was by him, the leader...
David Bell.
He... was 42 when he met Precious.
And how long did she live in Wales for?
On and off for about ten or 15 years.
She'd sporadically get tired of it
and move back to London for a year or two, and...
be unable to find work, or a place to live, erm...
So she'd steal or do escort work.
And when that failed, she'd move back.
And the cycle was repeated many times.
And she returned to Wales voluntarily?
How do you mean?
No-one came looking for her, the boy's father?
Not that I specifically saw, but he'd call her a lot,
and she was scared of him, definitely.
So he may well have come down on occasion.
Year after year, I...
I tried to help her.
And at a time when I had my own challenges with alcohol.
All long since sorted.
But eventually, you have to take care of yourself.
Help yourself, don't you?
So I, erm...
I cut-cut her off.
So, you cut her off after that last meeting?
Yeah.
And that would have been on her birthday?
Yes.
Was she using at this time?
- Yes. - Just meth?
Not sure.
- Did you know any of her dealers? - No.
And how did her son fit into... into that life?
Well, he didn't, really.
From what I understood from her,
he was raised between the cult and care.
And did you ever help her with him?
No.
OK. One last question. Er...
Can I ask you about your 1986 firearms charge?
I'm sure it's all in your files.
So unless you're gonna arrest me, I think I've answered enough.
Precious had multiple issues.
Drink and drugs, obviously, but her primary issue was her FASD.
"FASD"?
Foetal alcohol spectrum disorder.
Oh, OK. We didn't know about that.
Huge part of her life.
Arguably the cause of most of her problems.
Learning difficulties, problems sustaining relationships,
self-medication, the fractured relationship
with her mother, obviously. I mean, the list goes on.
Yeah, her mother didn't mention any of this to us when we spoke to her.
From what I understood, the mother refused to accept the diagnosis.
Oh, OK.
And what was her general relationship with her mother like?
Terrible. They fought all the time.
- Ah. - Precious carried huge anger towards her,
which, oddly, her mother reciprocated.
What was the mother angry about?
The accusation, I guess.
Er, in my professional experience,
I'd say it was displacement for her own guilt.
- At what she'd done to her child? - Yeah.
D'you know if they ever fought physically?
All the time.
Would you say there was, like, one aggressor, or was it both or...?
I never had any experience of Precious being violent.
Again, from what she told me,
the aggression came entirely from Ebele.
So, what did you think?
I think she really didn't want to discuss her firearms offence,
and I think I wanna know more about the grandson and this cult.
Well...
if you want to grab a coffee, we can kick around some...
- Did the C&C on the house come back? - I'll check again now.
What about the phone and bank records?
Just made the application. Waiting for them to come through.
Where is everyone? Where's DC Willets?
Still trying to identify the relative
who did the security work so had keys to the house.
- And Lingley? - Chasing stuff down, Guv.
Do you guys always work at this pace?
This is fucking glacial.
It takes as long as it takes, Ma'am.
Guv! How many times? Jesus!
- Sorry about that. - Not a problem.
Apparently, Precious Falade was a member of a cult in Wales
called The Family Of Blessed Light.
See what you can find out about them, please.
On it.
Just need to get a couple of signatures from you, please.
- Is that Friesz? - It is.
- Do you like him? - I like Dufy more. Or Derain.
- But Friesz is gully, still. - Right.
- Who got you into the Fauvists? - My dad.
D'you know what it means... "fauvist"?
Erm... "beast" or something, isn't it?
"Wild beast".
Yeah, I wonder why he thought I'd like 'em.
Listen, man, my girlfriend needs help,
with her habit and shit.
Is there any chance you could call my social worker
and ask him to visit her?
Your carriage awaits, sir.
- I'll see what I can do. - Ta.
- Her last team loved her. - Good for them.
And her references are all exceptional.
- Did you check the name at the top? - It's not even been a week.
Each day is worse than the last.
She's rude, she's permanently distracted.
- Unpleasant to my team. - Your team?
I didn't want to ease her in. I did it as a favour to you.
After you turned the job down.
- But these fast-track uni kids... - She's 39.
they just don't have the hours on the clock, Sir.
And when that inexperience impacts on my ability to do the job...
Just give it a bit more...
So I honestly think that Fran should step up.
She's more than capable.
You need to know that, right now,
this really isn't fucking working for me, Sir.
I looked after her from October to Feb,
then I went on maternity leave till early June.
And when I came back, my cover and I shared responsibility for her
till I was back up to speed.
OK, what was the name of your cover, please?
That was Karol Wojski.
- Carol... - No, Karol with a K,
and it's, er, W-O-J-S-K-I.
- Is Karol still here? - No, he left.
- And when was that? - Mid-2016.
So, he moved to another department or...?
No, he left social work completely, I believe.
OK. Does it happen a lot?
Pretty stressful job,
huge responsibilities, zero resources.
- Thank you, Government. - Yeah, join the club.
And so this is the last appointment anyone had with Precious?
- Correct, yeah. - So 26th of June?
- Yeah. - And the address given there
as her new home address is Waterman Road.
- Yeah. - OK. And Karol took this appointment?
- Yeah. - And he details seeing her at the house.
Yes. And these are the brief notes from that meeting.
Erm, these would normally have been written up in detail.
OK.
"Son wants her to go back to sex work.
"I will investigate rehab, Precious is keen.
"Mother assaulted her again." Wow.
So, why weren't these notes written up properly?
Karol resigned the next day.
Be good to get contact details for Karol if you can, please.
Sure.
You keep skirting around things,
but, really, why don't you just say it?
- Say what? - That you don't want a child with me.
Because it's not true.
So why do you keep mentioning money and priorities
and making me feel shit about it all?
I'm really not trying to make you feel shit.
I'm just trying to articulate
some of the very real, practical difficulties facing us.
But, please, if you can see a simpler solution...
I'll work more hours.
You already work too many, as I am.
Between us, we do five fucking jobs, for Christ sakes.
I mean...
I don't want it to be like this any more than you do,
but given he is now going to make me spend money on a lawyer,
that really does have to be my priority.
You see that, don't you?
And I don't need to have a baby with you to prove to myself,
or, I hope, to you, how much I love you.
And what I need...
does that count for anything?
Of course it does.
I know it's incredibly important to you...
but, "I refer the honourable gentleman to my earlier answer."
- You think this is funny? - No.
- Because this isn't a joke to me, Lise. - I know!
- You'd two kids with that baboon and not one with me. - Please.
I mean, am I not good enough?
Is that what this is? The Untermensch?
I cannot believe you just said that.
And if she did do it deliberately...
She didn't do it deliberately.
Why didn't I see it? Why didn't I do more to help her?
Cass's death was not your fault, Sunny.
It was just life.
Random, cruel, life.
Do you talk to Sal about this?
No.
D'you think maybe you should, or someone?
She finds it hard enough as it is.
I know she thinks I should have gotten over it by now.
- I know everyone does. - I don't.
I think about her too.
All the time. It still absolutely winds me.
So if you don't want to see someone about it... talk to me.
I'll always listen. I'm always here.
'OK, so you need...'
It should be on the authorisation request, just the name and address.
'Yeah, I've got it.
- 'What's the number?' - OK, yeah, so it's...
zero, seven, seven, zero, zero.
- 'Yep.' - Nine, zero, zero...
- Guv. - 'Sunny, hi.'
Erm, listen, first up, I'm sorry if I snapped earlier.
It was... It was uncalled for.
Yep.
So, erm, I just had a very interesting conversation
with Frances about Precious's social worker.
How would you feel about a trip to Paris,
where he lives, to speak to him?
Can't we just Zoom him?
We could, yeah, but as of now,
he's the last person to have seen her alive.
And the day after he did, he resigned.
And two weeks after that, he left the country.
'I think you'd wanna see the whites of his eyes.'
Sure. Why not?
Great, thanks.
- Guv. - Yeah?
Erm, so the relative who used to pop round
and check up on her, and the "LA" in the lawyer's notes,
that's Lord Anthony.
- As in Hume. - Tony Hume?
- Yeah. Mm-hm. - The Tory guy?
Man...
My local library was shut down cos of that twat.
Yep, well, it turns out that his wife
is the late owner's younger sister.
And he had keys to the property?
He's the one who changed all the locks.
OK.
And what could possibly connect the Tory Lord and the sex worker?
- OK, get digging on him. - Sure.
Actually, could you find me his address and text it to me?
- Yeah, no problem. - Thanks.
'Hi, this is Debbie, please leave a message.'
Hi, Debs. Look, erm, it's me.
I'm really sorry, I'm gonna have to bail tonight.
I'll talk to you soon.
Hello, love.
- Where are you? - 'Yeah, sorry, I was gonna call you.'
I'm actually on the Eurostar. I've, erm...
gotta speak to a possible suspect in Paris.
I'm back tomorrow, though.
I... I think I'm miscarrying.
Oh, God. Oh, no.
- 'So sorry, Sal.' - I'm heading to my mum's.
D'you need to go to hospital? Shall I come back?
I can come straight back if you want me to.
Hello, Sal?
Sal?
_
Kaz?
- _ - _
_
Yeah?
I was looking for Cheryl, Jay's girlfriend?
What about her?
- Does she live here? - Who wants to know?
I'm Jay's brief.
He was worried about her being on her own.
Tell him she's fine. I'm looking after her now.
Tell him she's fine.
_
I think he's in his study.
Would you like me to...? Oh, hello, darling.
This lady is a detective.
She wants to talk to you about my sister's old house.
- Hello, Tony Hume. - I'm sorry to disturb you so late.
Not at all. Hazel's house, did you say?
Yes. I believe you were a key-holder after she died?
Yes, I was.
Just need to ask a some questions about that period.
Sounds intriguing.
Well, you can at least grill me in comfort.
Thank you.
- How absolutely tragic. - Indeed.
- 34's no age. - No.
And what a way to treat a body.
So, how can I help?
Well, we're trying to narrow down exactly when she died,
and we understand you might have had some access to the house
around May or June 2016?
I did. Some squatters had got into the property,
and a neighbour of Hazel's, who knew I used to visit her,
rang me at my office.
Can you remember roughly when this date was?
Well, I can check my diaries, but, erm... late May, I think.
I have a vague recollection it was during the Whitsun recess.
OK. And what happened then?
Well, I drove down there the day after the neighbour rang,
on my way here, in fact, and, er... basically just knocked on the door.
And someone answered?
They did. I told them who I was,
and that they couldn't be there and, er,
just tried to keep it fairly friendly.
- How many were there? - Two came to the door, and, er...
when they left, I counted five in total.
- Men, women? - Three men, two women.
And what was their reaction to you?
Oh... Hostile, extremely.
They basically told me, in no uncertain terms, to get lost,
and were very threatening.
- Physically? - Yes.
And you thought they looked capable of violence?
I mean, who knows? But, er...
Listen, they looked like addicts to me,
and I've seen enough in my charity sector work.
I know that an addict can be dangerous when they're sick,
so, erm... I was scared.
- So, how did you get them out? - Money. I offered them 500 quid.
- Which they accepted? - No.
They wanted a thousand, which is why I had offered them 500.
- And they accepted that? - Yes.
And left immediately?
- Within an hour or so. - OK.
And could I just ask why you didn't just call the police?
Well, I wasn't sure of our rights,
and, er, I didn't want a long, protracted legal battle.
We were already in the middle of one about the will.
I guessed that money would work, and it did.
So they... they left immediately.
That afternoon, I got a firm of locksmiths in.
The place was Fort Knox by the time they'd done.
- And there were no further problems? - Not as far as I was aware.
And what was the state of the house when you went in?
Disgusting. Damage and filth everywhere.
A lot of original features had been removed.
And the place smelt absolutely dreadful.
Oh, Lord.
She couldn't have already have been there, could she?
Erm... We're not sure, but, sorry, can I just, erm, go back?
What did you do with the new set of keys?
Well, I dropped them round to the solicitors.
- How soon after? - A few days, I think.
Hm.
Oh. Yeah, actually, it was, erm, five weeks later.
Any reason for that delay?
No. Just busy, I guess.
Course.
And finally, can I just show you a picture of the victim?
Does her face look familiar at all?
No.
Didn't see her at the house?
No, not that I recall.
Take a good look.
- No, sorry, I don't recognise her. - Thank you.
I mean, just to reiterate... for what it's worth...
from my encounter with them,
they did look like very unpleasant people.
Capable of anything.
- I'll leave you in peace. - Mm.
- Hello? - 'Hi, is that Karen?'
- Kaz, yeah. - 'It's DCI James.'
Oh, good evening, Ma'am. Guv.
Karen, the neighbour you spoke to,
what did they say the squatters were like?
'Erm, yeah...'
"Nice", as I remember.
"Gentle, polite". "Sweet". I think that was the word.
- "Sweet". - 'Mm.'
Great. OK, er, thanks, Karen. Night.
Good night, Ma'am.
Guv.
'Welcome to the messaging service.'
'I'm sorry, but the person you have called is not available.
'Please leave your message after the tone.'
What did you do?
Call me.
Everything all right?
Do you, er, remember those squatters
that, er, I chucked out just after Hazel died?
Yes.
One of them must have got back in somehow, and...
they think taken an overdose, and then...
very sadly, died.
How awful.
Isn't it?
Anyway... I need a drink. You want one?
Hello, love. It's me again.
Erm, couldn't get through to you at your mum's.
Erm, call me when you can. I hope you're OK.
Lots of love.
- _ - Erm...
_
- Merci. - _
- Yeah? - Oui.
'Bele, where are you?
'We've got the VC meeting tomorrow, and-and now I'm really worried.
'Call me.'
'Please leave your message after the tone.'
You don't know me, but I know you.
My mother was Precious Falade, and I was there that night.
I was there.
And I saw it all.
*CREDITS*