_
Mrs. Klein, you should take a seat.
I will bring you a drink straight away.
_
Take this. I'll be right back.
*CREDITS*
I bet you blink first.
I'm not playing.
Come on.
Hey. What's wrong?
I need to tell you about this work thing.
I should have mentioned it before, but...
Oh, sounds serious.
I didn't want to worry you.
Don't then.
We're on holiday.
No work, remember?
Says the hardest-working woman ever.
Yeah.
Excuse me.
You must stay here for as long as you like.
Thank you.
You see, who needs Brighton?
I need to earn a living.
Oh, I keep telling you, give up work tomorrow.
Yeah.
Are you okay?
Whoa. Eric. What's going on?
Eric? Are you okay?
Have you been stung?
Where... Where's your adrenaline pen?
- Can someone help me, please?! - _
How do I... Please help me.
What do I do, Eric?
_
I will leave you in peace for a moment.
I will be back.
_
Oui, monsieur.
_
Danka.
_
Sandy?
It's Roy.
No.
No, no.
P-Please.
Please.
- Mrs. Klein? - Yeah.
Your husband... he requested the use of the hotel safe.
It was more secure than your room.
So I am returning this for you.
Thank you.
I cannot express my sorrow enough.
You've been very kind.
Oh, I just need to confirm your address for the car.
Your husband has given us your Brighton mailbox
as your contact address, but you live in Paris, no?
Yes.
- I'll take you to your car. - Thank you.
What happened to you?
I could ask you the same thing.
Do you remember anything about the crash?
Bits.
Not much.
How did you know I was here?
A friend in Munich Police. He had a tip-off.
You must have quite the story.
So... I'm listening.
Mm.
I can't do this now.
Oh, I can.
I don't know how to...
Sandy, please.
I left.
I left you.
Sorry. What?
You left me? T-That's what this is?
They were dark days for me.
You've no idea.
What happened to talking it through?
You could have come to me.
- Not that simple. - Separation, then.
Divorce, even?
Anything that doesn't involve vanishing
off the face of the Earth.
Was I really such a terrible husband?
You actually wanted me to believe you were dead?
That's why you've been living under this false identity?
Well, here it is.
All the paperwork declaring you legally dead.
So it all went to plan.
It's hard, isn't it?
Living on your own.
Lonely.
I've imagined this moment so many times.
You miraculously alive.
I thought I would feel... joy, relief.
Never anger.
I was accused of your murder.
Tell me where you've been!
You owe me that much, at least.
It became impossible for me to stay in Brighton,
to stay with you, and I couldn't talk to you about it.
- Why not? - Because you were never there.
I was having panic attacks.
Wasn't sleeping.
Found myself just...
driving.
Came to Munich, and I just broke down.
I...
Broke down.
Christ. Was it really so bad?
Leaving was better.
For you.
It was over.
You never told me it was over.
What happened?
This was her choice.
She wanted me to believe she was dead.
Why?
Ah... Can we just go?
I cannot waste another second of my time,
our time, on her.
No. I didn't fly all this way just to hold your hand.
She's not only haunting you, is she?
_
Hello, Sandy.
I'm Cleo.
Roy's fiancée.
I think you have some explaining to do.
How far along are you?
20 weeks.
Are you sick of his long hours yet?
No, but he might be sick of mine.
We both have a job to do.
Well, just try not to isolate yourself
while he's out working and you're home alone
with a crying baby.
Oh, you really can't help yourself, can you? Thank God we never had kids.
- I mean, thank God. - Roy.
Just try and think for a moment
what you've both been through.
The past is done. It's done.
This really isn't my battle to fight,
but I will say this.
Roy is a good man.
He doesn't deserve to be treated like this.
I was broken. I didn't know.
If I failed you, Sandy, I'm sorry.
I am.
But I refuse to believe
that this was your only option.
And this?
I still have a key to our house.
It's not your house anymore, Sandy.
You know that, don't you?
All of this, all of it...
it has to stop now.
I know.
I know it does.
I'm sorry.
I hope you can forgive me somehow.
I hope so, too.
You're gonna have to leave that one with me.
Let's go home.
Shh. Go back to sleep, love.
What time is it, Shelby?
It's just gone 2:00.
Love you.
Ow.
Shelby?
You here, love?
- No more ghosts. - No more ghosts.
I already told you.
I told you. Oh.
I don't have it.
No! I don't have it. Please.
She didn't answer. I don't know where she is.
Please! No!
_
Eric, Eric.
Eric, blackmail does not suit you, my friend.
You need to lay down that sword.
It's too late to get out now.
Oh, but that pen drive of yours needs to be returned to us.
You know, your little insurance policy.
Or we will come and find you.
And your pretty bride.
Cassie, is it?
You've got 24 hours.
No police.
Cameras show the car driving down this road
at 2:57 a.m. last night.
No one followed him. It's just one driver.
Car registered to Shelby Stonor.
How the mighty have fallen.
- What, you know him? - Yeah. Home invasions.
Mainly London targets, high-value.
Then he started getting lazy,
fancied having a go on his own doorstep.
That's when I picked him up.
I thought he was out on license.
Fresh start.
New wife.
What are we thinking? Drugs?
Yeah, at first I thought so, too.
Something certainly caused him to haemorrhage internally,
some kind of toxic shock.
But this isn't your standard drug use.
It's a massive bleed.
And then there's this.
What's that, a needle?
It's larger than the average hypodermic needle wound.
Postmortem's this afternoon, so we'll know more then.
Okay. We'll see you there.
What about traf cam? Anything?
Yeah, so his plate was clocked at 2:44 a.m.
heading in this direction,
it's likely he was en route to the hospital.
His driving was all over the shop.
But here's the interesting thing...
Stonor's wife told uniform that he was at work last night.
Uh, security at a storage unit called Move and Groove
on Platemere Road.
But early last night, ANPR picked up
his plate heading inland
from the direction of the seafront at 1:14 a.m.
So nowhere near Platemere Road.
Nope.
I think we need to pay Mrs. Stonor a visit.
So, how was it? Munich?
Oh, we'll need a pint for that one.
Maybe more than one.
And, uh, Cleo? Is she okay?
She was fearless. By my side the whole time.
You were absolutely right,
I couldn't have done it without her.
Oh, uh, I should warn you, though...
Pewe is on the warpath about Crisp.
Well, I'll look forward to that conversation.
Norman, please stop avoiding me.
We do need to talk.
How long have you known?
Few weeks.
Why didn't you tell me?
I'm worried about you.
There's treatments, you know. It's not all doom and gloom.
I've got this under control.
I promise.
I found all these bloody tissues in the bin.
I thought he'd cut himself. I was worried.
I... tried his phone,
looked up the work number.
No answer there either.
Christ.
I'm so sorry, Mrs. Stonor.
Forgive me. This might seem like a strange question,
but have you ever known Shelby to take drugs?
It's not his thing.
Not in my time, anyway.
His job was at the Move and Groove, uh,
storage unit on Platemere Road?
Yeah. He hadn't been there long.
I mean, it wasn't ideal, it being nights and that.
But he was so happy when he got that job.
Five-minute drive from home.
Fresh start, you know? After everything.
What time did his shift start last night?
8:00 p.m.
He's usually back around 5:00 a.m.
Just weekdays.
Uh, Mrs. Stonor,
we're not sure that your husband was at work last night.
This was taken at 1:14 a.m.
What's he doing outside the pavilion?
We don't know, but wherever he was,
wherever he'd been,
might have something to do with how he died.
So three guesses why he lied to his wife.
- Back on the rob? - I wouldn't put it past him.
He never stayed out of the game for too long.
So what happened?
He stoked up on drugs before a job?
Nah, Angi's right. It was never Stonor's thing.
Pint of Guinness down the Basketmaker's, maybe.
But injecting himself?
And in his ankle, of all places?
No, something's off.
So, Crisp still eludes you?
DI Branson is pursuing the Belgium lead,
the Brussels sighting, but it's as yet unconfirmed.
And meanwhile, I hear you're all guns blazing
over a suspected drugs overdose.
I hope you're not prioritising this
over finding Crisp.
That would be somewhat misguided, don't you think?
Nice day off?
Thanks, yes.
I was in Munich.
I received a call from Detective Kullen.
An ICU patient who was involved in a car accident
turned out to be Sandy.
Sandy's alive?
In one piece.
Conscious.
And, thankfully, not buried in my garden after all.
Hm.
Grace.
Grace, it's Pat Amos. City Police, New York.
I handled the, uh, mafia arrest
on the Tony Robinson case a few months back.
- Pat. Yes, hi. How are you? - I'm good, thank you.
Look, I'm sorry to call you direct,
but I figured it would be quicker
than going through Interpol.
We've got a bit of a situation
that we could use your help with.
Our friends in New York have asked for our help
with finding a misper named Cassie Klein.
Her husband, Eric Klein, originally from New York,
died suddenly while they were at a vineyard in southern France.
Now, Cassie didn't show up at the airport in Paris
to fly his body back to New York.
But this is where it gets interesting.
Two more bodies linked to Eric have since been found...
Nicole Depledge, Eric and Cassie's housekeeper in Paris,
murdered while they were away,
and Pierre Lucca, the manager of the French hotel
where Eric and Cassie were staying.
He was found dead this morning in the back office.
Now, both these kills bear the hallmarks
of a New York mafia hit.
The victims had been blood-eagled.
Sounds like a calling card.
Organised crime, specifically, New York Italian networks.
Mm, "Godfather" territory. Yeah, I love a bit of Coppola.
Cassie is seen here talking to Pierre at the hotel
just before she left.
After this, key sections of the CCTV
either side of Pierre's death have been wiped.
Pierre gave Cassie something.
I'll see if we can enlarge the footage.
How did Eric die?
The coroner ruled it anaphylactic shock,
but in light of the other two deaths,
New York thinks that might be a bit of a coincidence.
They're worried she's a target and needs protecting.
She didn't arrive home in Paris and may have fled to Brighton.
- Why here? - She must have a base here.
Bella, there was a Brighton mailbox address given by Eric
to the French hotel.
Can you see if we can find any of Cassie's contact details?
Uh, Norman, can you check her social media profile?
Certo, Capo.
Okay. Thanks, all.
_
We'll need to wait for specialty toxicology for a definitive,
but we're looking at a possible snake bite
with a single puncture.
So how long would he have?
From being bitten to time of death?
It... It can vary. Depends on a few factors.
Type of venom, fitness of the deceased,
if he was on any medication.
I'll be able to tell you more once we get the bloods back.
On average, without an antidote,
you'd be dead between three and six hours.
A snake bite as a cause of death is a very,
very rare occurrence in this country.
Nobody's died of one in the UK since 1975.
Not drugs then. So how and where
did Shelby Stonor get himself bitten by a snake?
Mrs. Klein, it's Parker,
Eric's lawyer from the New York office.
I've left a few messages now.
There are some... things that have come to light,
and I don't know how much Eric told you.
We really need to talk.
I fear you may be in danger.
Boss, Digital Forensics have pulled a couple of photos
from Stonor's phone the night of the break-in.
Maybe the moment he was bitten.
What's this?
A vivarium. It's used for housing snakes and reptiles.
So maybe Stonor was trying to steal a rare snake for someone.
Nick, check his associates.
And ask Digital to do a dark-web search
for a venomous snake black market in Sussex.
Yes, boss.
Oh, and I wanna know who supplied these tanks.
Specifically, suppliers with customers in the Brighton area.
- Okay. - So, our misper, Cassie Klein.
She last posted on social media eight days ago.
There's photos of her and Eric...
fancy restaurants, exotic hotels.
But nothing about a house in Brighton yet.
Now, details around her husband's death
do make interesting reading, though.
On paper, Eric Klein was extremely wealthy.
But this has just popped up online claiming
that Eric was in well over his head with organised crime.
Apparently, he invested millions into olive oil,
but he was actually getting into bed with the devil...
the most prolific crime family in Italy,
the Cuccinis.
Rumour has it Eric put all his money into a deal
that was draining him dry
and recently was trying to get out.
Roy? I've footage of the shop
where Cassie's mailbox is registered.
This guy was asking after Cassie yesterday.
There. It's just a sliver.
So we're not the only ones who think she's in Brighton.
If Eric wanted out of the deal,
maybe the mafia sent someone round to his Paris residence
while he and Cassie were away,
and that someone killed the housekeeper.
- Yeah, but... but why? - A warning.
Maybe they were looking for something.
Right, and when they didn't find what they wanted,
they went after Pierre.
I mean, it might be linked to what Pierre gave Cassie
on the hotel CCTV.
And now they're after Cassie.
Fast-track all the CCTV from the surrounding area.
I wanna see that man's face.
Yes, I know, but I-I would like the service to be private.
Or as much as possible. Just no fuss. Really simple.
Yeah, I'm talking to the florist this morning.
Yeah. Okay. All right, thank you.
Footage from an ATM machine
near the mailbox address.
There.
Hello, old friend.
Our favourite hitman...
James John Robertson, a.k.a. "Tooth."
Yeah, he's formerly a sniper in the U.S. Army.
I'm guessing someone's paid him
an eye-watering amount of cash to find Cassie Klein.
From our previous experience with him
and the fact that he works for the mafia,
we can probably say that the housekeeper
and the hotel manager killings were his doing.
Maybe Cassie went to Paris, found the housekeeper dead,
fled in fear for her life.
Question is, did Cassie know what Eric was mixed up in?
We all know what Tooth's capable of,
so if we don't find Cassie first,
she could be dead within hours. Let's move.
Here, uh, I'm looking for a friend of mine called Cassie.
I was wondering if she comes in here or you know her?
I don't. Haven't seen her, sir.
Okay. Thank you.
- There we go. - Thanks.
You're doing too much.
Well, it's just been a very draining few days.
There's so much paperwork to do.
There always is. You could have asked for help.
Oh, yeah. Okay, Mr. Cayman Islands.
Not been distracted by the art deal of the century or anything.
No, look, it's fine. Everything sorted...
the flowers, the readings. I know what I'm wearing.
It's all right. Hm?
It'll be perfect.
You always know what to say.
Thank you.
Oh, boss? So there's only three companies in Brighton
that sell the same brand of vivarium
as the one in Stonor's picture.
Let's get a list of customers who might've purchased
that type of tank within the last three days.
And card details.
- Norman. - About 25 hotels down.
312 to go. I've got some news from France.
So, on the night that we think Cassie left Paris,
a taxi driver's saying that he picked up a woman
outside Eric and Cassie's and dropped her at the station
for a train to London.
Now, the French police are looking at the CCTV footage
but no Cassie as yet.
Get them to send the footage.
- This one here, sir. - Thank you.
- I'll see you later.
See you later.
Bye.
So, tracking Cassie Klein on St. Pancras.
At 6:10 yesterday,
she gets off the train from Paris.
It was a very quiet train.
There was only two women travelling alone,
one Patti McGuinness and one Gemma Stokes.
No Cassie Klein.
Well, she got into the country somehow.
What we dealing with here? What, fake passports?
Her husband was in business with the mafia,
so anything's possible. Now, we already know
that Eric gave the hotel a mailbox address.
So maybe he needed to hide.
Pull a bank account request on the cards
used to book those train tickets.
And let's get scans of those passports.
Digital Forensics say there is no dark-web activity
to suggest a black market for snakes down here.
Go nationwide.
A buyer might travel for something that rare.
Okay. We also have the notes back from Eric Klein's autopsy.
Now, it confirms that he did die from anaphylaxis.
But the swelling indicated he might have been stung
on the inside of his throat,
but there's no sting point in there.
The interesting thing is, there's no clear sting
on the outside of his body either.
"Laineway Hotel. 3 nights."
Thank you, Mrs. Klein.
What a gift.
Enjoy your trip.
Have you thought about ingestion?
Sort of like Eric swallowed the wasp?
There was a... a case.
Spanish vineyard, I think.
Somehow the wasps got caught up in the fermentation process,
and someone with a wasp allergy drank the wine,
triggering anaphylaxis.
Oh.
We've got the specialist tox report on Stonor
and a type of snake venom.
It's one of the deadliest in the world.
It's called the saw-scaled viper.
When agitated, it will form a series of c-shaped coils
which, when shifted against each other,
produce a sound like water falling onto a hot plate.
They're so venomous,
there's only a handful of licensed keepers in the UK.
Seems crazy I only get to wear that once.
- Mm. - I didn't want to take it off.
See, I told you it would all be perfect.
Come here, Mrs. Carmichael.
Ah! Mrs. Carmichael.
Hm. Are you really sure about this plan for today?
Yeah. Why, do you not wanna go?
You know I would have taken you to Paris.
Yeah, but I don't wanna go to Paris.
You asked me what I wanted to do
on my first day as Mrs. Carmichael,
and this is what I want to do.
It's going to be fun.
- Come on. Go and get ready. - All right, all right.
Ah. I'm going.
Is this what it's gonna be like from now on?
- Being married to me? - Hm.
- Yes. - Oh, good.
Go on.
A list of all cars hired in the Brighton area
in the last two days.
"James Beam."
Hold on.
Isn't one of Tooth's aliases "George Dickel"?
Dickel like the, uh... like the whisky?
Yeah. Jim Beam... James Beam.
He's using formal versions of whisky names.
Okay, the car's a three-year-old Nissan.
Let's see if we can track his route on ANPR.
- Ready then darling? - Almost.
Just got word that the Nissan hired under the name James Beam
was returned last night.
Tooth parked up and left the keys in a drop box.
He's obviously swapping cars.
We'll need to call every car-hire company in town
and recheck his aliases.
He'll have a new car by now.
You there? Got any news for me?
Not yet. Another small hiccup.
Well, tick-tock.
They're getting a little jumpy.
Oh, I'll find it.
It's time for plan "B."
It's fast.
It's part of my early collection.
Funny little things, aren't they?
"The saw-scaled viper is the smallest member
of the big-four Indian snakes
that are responsible for causing the most
snakebite cases and deaths." There she is.
How do you know it's female?
Because her tail is thinner and shorter than the male's.
Can you see how it just sort of tapers off evenly as well?
That's another sign.
You really know your stuff.
Yeah. I've been obsessed with them since I was little.
- What was that? - What?
- I just saw something. - Where?
Down there. It was quick but I saw it.
- I can't see anything. - Rowley, don't go there.
- It looked like a... - Like a what?
Like a snake. Like a small snake.
Come on, let's go.
They're checking the tanks for any missing snakes.
Okay. Well done, darling.
I mean, what if it was just a...
No, it's not even worth thinking about.
I know what we need.
Glass of warm champagne
and crab sandwich.
I'll have the champagne.
Oh, I, uh, heard back from the vineyard
that Eric and Cassie visited.
Now, apparently, it is feasible
that insect pulp can contaminate wine during their process.
Now, they said that they checked the batch
that the bottle came from.
If venom got into the wine,
that entire batch would show traces of it.
But it's clear.
So how did it get into Eric's glass?
- To us. - To us.
- Oh, wait, wait. Your insulin. - Oh.
Now, what would I do without you?
Ah.
Ah! Good.
And now, to us.
To us.
Boss? Just back from Financial.
So these six people purchased a brand-new vivarium
in the days after Shelby Stonor was bitten...
Charlotte Fenton, Claire Pegg, Mike Budmani,
Thomas Ledge, Kenneth Paterson, and Benjamin Southern.
Cross-reference them with addresses in Bishopsdean.
Let's find out which one of them
was the proud owner of a saw-scaled viper.
Wasps?
No! Help!
Help me, someone, please!
No!
No! Help! Please, someone!
Rowley Carmichael. Male. 57 years old.
Brighton resident.
Visiting Tatewell Zoo in the New Forest
this morning with his wife.
Found bleeding from the ears, nose, and mouth.
Apparently, he'd reported seeing a snake
on the floor of the reptile house during his visit.
Yeah, well looking online, Tatewell's had problems.
I mean, there's loads of re-posts.
"That place is a health and safety time bomb."
There's another one. "Tatewell Zoo is a shit show.
They leave the snake doors open while cleaning out."
Yeah, well, Rowley Carmichael was a millionaire.
Actually, make that multi-millionaire.
He was an art dealer.
Samples have been sent for testing,
so we can't confirm the venom type yet,
but we found the bite.
Just... here.
Can you magnify the marks for us, Christian?
Yeah.
There's no ecchymosis around the bite.
No inflammation, swelling.
Reactions can vary, but this man has possibly been
bitten by one of the world's most poisonous snakes,
and there's no skin reaction around the entry wounds.
It's not unheard of.
Except there is another entry point.
Christian, can... can you go back to his abdomen?
The marks there?
He was a diabetic, wasn't he?
- Insulin user. - Thanks, Christian.
You're welcome.
Rowley had venom in his system,
and it didn't enter the body through the bite wound.
Exactly the same as Eric Klein.
Yeah, there was no sting mark.
Didn't the police reports say
that Rowley was with his wife when he died?
What's Mrs. Carmichael's first name?
Uh, uh...
Charlotte? Yeah, Charlotte.
And South Hampshire police say they were on their honeymoon.
The list of people who purchased the snake tank
the day after Stonor died...
wasn't there a Charlotte on that list?
- What are you thinking? - Both Rowley and Stonor
were found bleeding from the ears and the nose.
What if Charlotte Carmichael is Cassie Klein,
our illegal snake owner,
the owner of the house that Stonor broke into?
If she tampered with Rowley's insulin shot,
then she's more than capable of putting wasp venom
into Eric's drink.
You were right.
Eric Klein's postmortem report shows
that an adrenaline shot was administered before death,
reportedly by his wife, Cassie Klein.
Adrenaline is difficult to measure postmortem
because our bodies produce it naturally.
But if a shot was administered, you'd expect higher levels.
But there was no evidence of that in Eric's system?
It was anaphylaxis from the wasp venom that killed him,
but the French police couldn't detect what wasn't there.
Cassie Klein made sure there was no adrenaline in the pen.
Hidden in plain sight.
Cassie was never fleeing for her life.
She's a black widow.
Dead millionaires wherever she goes.
So what, was she running both men side by side,
ready to marry or kill at a moment's notice?
Quite possibly.
She worked between Paris and Brighton
with very busy husbands,
so it's feasible she could live a double life.
Question now is, did she plan to kill both men all along,
or did she marry Rowley
because she figured out Eric didn't have any money?
Well, neither would surprise me.
Tooth may well have met his match here.
A killer chasing a killer.
We need to find out if there are more victims.
She might not be done yet.
Hello?
Hi, Dad.
Still keeping the key under the mat?
You should watch that. It's a security risk.
- You. - Daddy.
Want to give your favourite daughter a hug?
- What have you done? - Sorry, what do you mean?
Why have you done that to yourself?
Oh, I see. Mm.
Well, it does solve a problem, doesn't it?
It's not reminding you of mummy's little summer of love
in Hastings anymore.
Your mother would be turning in her grave.
- Hope so. - How can you say that?
Your mother and I did our very best.
- Oh, fibber. - We tried to love you.
What do you want? A gold star?
I think you should leave.
Yes, cast me away again.
Okay. Well you're in charge. Oh, there it is.
That's not yours. Wrong address.
Right address.
I didn't have to wait for you after all.
- Who's Heidi Powell? - That would be me.
Enchanté.
Oh.
Roy. Cassie Klein bought the snake tank under the name
of Charlotte Fenton.
Here she is again as Gemma Stokes.
I found a Reptile House owner from Manchester,
a Christopher Doody.
He died eight years ago from a snake bite in India.
He was married to one Cassie Doody,
nee Skevington.
Can we find out if Cassie married anyone
directly before or after Christopher's death?
South Hampshire Police say Cassie made a phone call
to Rowley Carmichael's lawyers this morning,
trying to access his bank accounts.
Apparently, the same lawyer advised Rowley
to move his money into trust just before the wedding.
Ah, so Cassie can't touch any of it.
Bet that wasn't part of her meticulous plan.
Mm. Neither was Eric being part of an organised-crime syndicate.
She hasn't had the most successful
of double strikes, has she?
I found her dad.
Tim Skevington.
Lives near Seaford.
Nice work, Nick. Glenn, shall we?
- It's about Cassie. - Cassie died.
- Sorry? - She died.
Our pride and joy.
Our perfect little princess.
She fell from the cliff right there.
It broke my wife. She never recovered.
The sea will take this house itself soon enough, too.
But I won't leave Cassie here alone.
Mr. Skevington, who's this?
Jodie. Cassie's sister.
And do you still see her?
Not if I can help it.
Why's that?
From the moment Jodie was born,
she was nothing like Cassie,
nothing like me.
My wife had an affair, Detective.
She was careless.
Jodie isn't my daughter.
I tried to be a father to her, to... to love her,
but in the end I just couldn't.
Forgive me. I...
I have to ask...
was Cassie's death an accident, or...?
We don't really know what happened,
how it happened.
They were just kids.
Jodie was the only one who was there.
So, this is Jodie?
It's like looking at a ghost.
This is what Cassie would have looked like,
had she survived and grown up.
What are you saying?
As a child, Jodie always wanted what Cassie had,
always on some twisted quest for approval.
She's had plastic surgery
to make herself look like Cassie.
She was here.
Earlier.
Where do we start? She had plastic surgery
to make herself look like her dead sister.
Yeah, the dead sister who may, or may not have
fallen off a cliff.
This isn't just about money.
Yes, she fits with black-widow profile,
but this is about her dad, always has been.
This is a girl who craves love, acceptance.
The money's just a bonus.
That's why she's targeting these men.
Hello, beautiful.
Freak.
You have two killers on the loose in Brighton
and are no closer to finding either.
We find Cassie, we find Tooth. She has something he wants.
He won't rest until he has it.
You better have a plan, Grace.
Cassie's first victim, a Christopher Doody,
a Reptile House owner. He died of a snake bite.
The second victim was a Rufus Enderby.
Now, he apparently died of a heart attack eight years ago.
So that period was a big financial score for Cassie.
She killed twice, disappeared for eight years,
and then re-emerged and killed Eric and Rowley.
So you think she'll disappear again.
Well, it's a pattern that's worked for her before.
The one thing we have in our favour
is that she didn't make the money
she thought she was going to make from those last two kills.
What are you suggesting?
That we lure her out of hiding
before she vanishes again.
Look, just put me on to the phone to your boss.
No, I want to speak to the senior account manager.
Yes, I am Mrs. Carmichael.
No, no, I know my husband has money in your bank.
I know he does.
The evidence we have on Cassie
is largely circumstantial.
So we need to set a trap.
There's an annual Brighton charity event coming up.
It's the perfect hunting ground for her.
We need someone to go undercover,
pose as a multi-millionaire.
Now, it can't be me or Glenn because Tooth knows both of us.
Right, so you're asking me to spend the evening
with a murdering black widow
who's being stalked by a military-grade assassin?
If Cassie's pattern is she kills twice, then vanishes,
we may lose her forever, and Tooth as well.
This really is our only chance.
Yeah, well, she'll Google me, won't she?
She'll know I'm fake.
No, Digital are very talented.
We'll guide you all the way.
Well, I am the most charismatic member of the team,
and I've been on worse dates.
She's had two major setbacks.
The money will draw her in, I'm sure of it.
Norman, I know you've got a lot going on,
but I would not ask you to do this
if I didn't think you were the best person for the job.
Okay, I'll do it.
Well, I just hope she doesn't fall in love with me,
because they all eventually do, you know.
That's not even funny, Norm.
Look, you know there's difficult things coming down the track,
things that you might not want.
And you might not want me.
So maybe we should just end it right now.
Nice try, but that's not gonna work.
I'm not going anywhere.
But what if you want kids?
I might not be able to give you kids.
I should be saving you the grief.
If we want them, there are ways.
We could adopt.
Think you'd be a great dad.
And how long would that kid have me around for?
This is a high-risk operation
and must be kept discreet, or she may not take the bait.
Glenn will be briefing the Argus on their involvement.
Digital forensics have created an entire online presence
for one J. Paul Cornel,
the Brighton multi-millionaire
who's moving back to his hometown.
We can't rule out that wherever Cassie is, Tooth might follow.
We've arranged to insert Norman as a special guest
at an annual charity auction,
where he'll be donating the star prize.
Money will be flowing. All eyes will be on him.
Including Cassie's, we hope.
New phone.
Credit cards.
Oh, Platinum Treasury. I must be rich.
40 mill in the bank, six race horses,
a villa in Sardinia.
When you're in there tomorrow, use the wire,
it's the only way you should communicate.
If she comes...
She'll come.
- Is it complete? - It looks intact, yeah.
You think she's seen what's on there?
Well, he probably gave her the password,
or she wouldn't have gone to so much effort to hide it.
Then get rid of her.
Of course. She needs to go.
Do it.
Can I get upwards on 34,000?
- 35. - 35. Do I hear once?
Twice? Three times.
Gone to the lady in the front. Well done.
And now our star prize of the day...
a spectacular donation from last-minute benefactor
J. Paul Cornel of one week on his luxury yacht,
fully staffed and catered.
I'm starting at 10,000.
I've got 10. 12.
14. 16. 18.
There. It's her.
20. A snip at 30,000.
40? 50. 55. 60.
We have lift-off.
- 65. - Black velvet dress.
Long sleeves, hair down, shoulder bag.
80!
Do I hear once, twice?
Three times?
Sold to the lucky lady at the back there
for £80,000.
Ladies and Gentlemen, a warm round of applause, please,
for Mr J. Paul Cornel.
Thank you so much, ladies and gentlemen...
That was very generous of you.
Well, it keeps the tax man happy.
I'm sure you keep him or her very happy indeed.
- Heidi. - J. Paul.
- Can I get you a drink, J. Paul? - Sure.
- He's in. - Okay.
Ah!
So I've never seen you at one of these things before.
Oh, I'm not in the UK that much.
And I don't make a habit of chatting to women at bars.
Oh, right. Shall I go then?
No, sorry. No, what I mean is
I'm not that great at these things.
- Mm. - You know, you've got
rich people trampling over each other to be seen.
And it's all just a bit fake. You know what I mean?
I'm all for the charity,
but give me an Italian walking holiday,
- some Puccini... - Puccini.
and ice cream, and I sound like a cliché, right?
Yeah, a tiny bit. But I'm here for it.
Well, you're very kind.
You also look too classy to be chatting to an old boy
like me in a bar.
Well, listen, I'm not that classy, not really.
It's all an act.
So what are you, then?
Um...
A bit lost, I think.
Welcome to the club.
Oh, I'm gonna stop droning on. Tell me something about you.
Uh, well, little bit like you, very picky.
- Mm-hmm. - Married once. Didn't end well.
I'm sorry.
Ultimately, I think I just want to feel...
- What? - No, I can't say it,
'cause it's gonna make me sound like an idiot.
- Sound like an idiot. Go on. - Loved.
Ultimately, I just want to feel loved.
Well, the good half of me, anyway.
And the bad half?
Yeah, it's lurking.
Well, I'd say a 50/50 good-to-bad ratio
is perfectly acceptable.
I would be 75 % bad,
25 % just okay.
I mean we're all messed up, aren't we? Come on.
Oh, my God. Totally.
Do you still, um, believe in true love, or...?
- Well, maybe. - Mm.
Or just Italian ice cream.
Oh, yeah, Italian ice cream. Of course.
Clearly.
Um...
Do you want to get out of here?
Come back to mine?
I can't offer you any ice cream, but, um,
I do have a very fine whisky I can serve.
- Yeah. - Yeah?
Let's go.
Ah, that's a nice little view.
Thank you.
It's a very rare thing
for me to share this place,
with anyone.
I'm going to go and freshen up.
- Don't go anywhere. - Mm.
No, wouldn't dream of it.
Okay, that's front and back unlocked.
You copy?
Loud and clear, Norm.
Oh, yeah.
You know, I could get used to this, all right.
J? Do you wanna make us both a whiskey?
Uh, yep, sure.
Right. We're in position. So far, so good?
For now.
Stand by, keep watch.
He might have been and gone, got what he wanted.
But something tells me that's not his style.
What is it?
It's a rental car.
Company's called HYAMS.
Hello, yes, this is DS Bella Moy.
Norman, is everything all right?
Tickety-boo.
Just serving drinks for a black widow, you know.
Cassie's winning at this game.
She has what Tooth wants,
I think that's the only reason she's still alive.
Okay, thank you.
Car's been rented in the name of one Mark Maker.
Maker's Mark Whisky. It's Tooth.
Norman, eyes in the back of your head.
Tooth is close by.
I would love to spend a week on your yacht.
Well, maybe one day I'll take you.
I'll hold you to that.
So where's she moored? Your boat?
Croatia. Adriatic Harbour.
It's near Split.
And how long is she?
She's 90 metres.
And what's her name?
Bella.
Her name's Bella.
My sister and I dreamt of having a boat.
She'd be the captain and I'd be crew.
She was very bossy.
Well, that's older sisters for you.
Yeah.
I want to show you something.
You have to keep your eyes closed.
You mustn't peep. It's a surprise.
- Keep your eyes closed. - Mm-hmm.
- Okay. - Okay.
- Follow me. - Mm-hmm.
Dear Mr. Tooth,
always request permission to film,
or there will be payback.
Okay, open your eyes.
Yeah, it's... it's not exactly the evening I had planned.
Now, I'd like you to consider these three things.
Firstly, the USB that is currently plugged in
to your device is not the USB that you have been trying
so desperately hard to lay your grubby hands on.
That USB is in my hand.
Secondly, I am so sorry about the faulty glove.
Curiously, there seems to be a hole in it.
I don't know how that got there.
I do hope she didn't bite you.
Thirdly, never underestimate the female of the species.
It won't end well.
Come. Let me show you my favourite girl.
Isn't she beautiful?
Eh. I, uh... I like reptiles.
And, uh, amphibians.
At school I was the lad that used to put frogs
into the girls' bags.
Yeah.
You see how good it could have been?
J, I thought you saw me.
I thought you liked me, even.
I-I do... I do like you.
So disappointing.
But then I suppose it's pot calling kettle black.
Who am I to talk?
My ex-husband had a super-yacht, J.
I know the Adriatic Harbour doesn't accept boats
over 60 metres.
And I never mentioned having an older sister.
- What was that? - Norm?
- Norm, what was it? - Cover's blown.
I'm trapped in a room. I think it's off the garage.
DC Nicholl requesting backup...
Norm. Norman, can you hear me?
You get here when you can, please.
- Keep talking to us. - We're on our way.
Hurry.
Oh, hello.
I'm gonna skin you alive.
Ah! She bit you, then.
I'm so sorry that's happened to you.
The USB.
Which one? This one?
Without an antidote, that bite will kill you.
I can already see that you're bleeding from your nose
and your gums, which does suggest internal haemorrhaging,
and then your organs will start to fail.
I could just stand here and watch.
Norm, we're inside. What are we looking for?
Um, yeah, t-there's a-a button...
- Wait, what? Behind here? - near some shelves.
It'll let you into the room.
I can't see it. Norm, there's no button!
We can't see anything.
Here!
Right!
- Norm? - Yeah.
Do you see it? Where is it?
It went under the sink.
- Trap it. - Give me that.
- There you go. - Norm, be careful.
Now, now!
Bella, Nick. Call for back up.
Copy that.
Hey!
Aaah! Aah!
Get up!
Roy! He's been bitten.
Bella, get a medic!
Copy that.
It's over, Jodie.
Don't you worry.
We'll get the medics to bring the anti-venom.
See, I want you in ship shape
for all that time you'll be serving.
Jodie Skevington, I am arresting you on suspicion
of the murder of Eric Klein, and Rowley Carmichael.
Come on.
Extracting venom from snakes and wasps.
I can think of easier ways to kill people.
Well, where's the fun in that?
I'm not normal, Detective.
I thought we'd established that.
You know we met with your Dad.
Oh, how thrilling for you.
He's not my real dad. Did he tell you that?
Yes. Yeah, he did.
Oh, he did. Some things never change.
I was and am
a constant reminder of my mother's deviance.
Unlike their sunshine child,
the centre of their world.
- You mean your sister? Cassie? - Oh.
Is that why you killed her?
The favourite? Made yourself look like her?
I'm a bit cold
and very tired, and I'm hungry,
I need something to eat.
Of course.
Why snakes? Hm? What is it about them?
They command attention.
You can't ignore a snake.
A master reinventer.
Shed a skin, start afresh.
It's quite of miraculous, don't you think?
Saved from being swept out to sea.
Some key mafia contacts on there, Tooth included.
But little did Cassie know that they'd send
a trained assassin to retrieve it.
So whoever's paid Tooth's wages is not gonna be happy.
Well, we owe you one.
Hey, there he is.
Take care Pat. I've gotta go.
J. Paul Cornell himself.
Don't think I'm gonna give up the day job.
I thought you were pretty convincing.
My heart rate's still coming down.
Whatever it is that you have to say on this, sir,
could we save it for your office?
Quite the contrary.
The mission to apprehend was successful.
I think the entire team should be commended.
So, well done.
Marcel.
I've been trying to get through to you.
I'm so sorry. It's Sandy.
I've had to send you an e-mail.
Roy?
_
Dear Roy, If you're reading this,
then you'll know that I'm gone.
I've tried to see some kind of future for myself, but I can't.
I've been in a dark place for years.
I don't want to go on.
I know you came to see me looking for answers.
I'm not surprised you're angry.
Leaving you like that was unforgivable.
I wasn't the person you thought I was.
You were always so unflinchingly solid.
And loyal.
I was neither of those things.
I was unfaithful
and a coward.
When I left you, I was pregnant.
I had a boy... Bruno.
He's eight now.
What did you tell me in the hospital?
'Thank God we never had kids'?
I nearly told you the truth then.
Roy...
you are Bruno's father.
I've enclosed his paternity results with this letter.
I guess now you know why I had to come back.
I have no right to ask this of you,
but please keep an eye on our son.
It hasn't been easy for him.
He won't have to worry about me anymore.
You and Cleo deserve all the happiness in the world.
And please know this...
I loved you to the end.
Sandy.
*CREDITS*