'You're listening to Coast Radio South. It's Friday.
'It's just coming up to five o'clock,
'and the weekend starts, quite literally, here.
'It's nearly home time. We've got news on the hour.
'But before that, we've got a little traffic and weather check...'
It's going to take the whole weekend to get her free of the silt.
Her?
The male skeleton is generally more robust,
and the proportions are different. The hyoid is broken.
The small, U-shaped bone that keeps the tongue in place.
Strangulation? Textbook.
Presence of the wisdom teeth tells us she is over 17.
I'd put her between 25 to 40.
Any idea how long she's been here?
There's evidence of some dental work.
White fillings,
which tend to have been more common over the past three decades.
But there's a cap on one maxillary incisor which looks more recent.
Last ten years, maybe?
Looks like someone's career's going down the sewer, eh?
It's a storm drain for the old Brighton to Kemp Town railway.
It was built to stop water flooding the line.
And nobody knew it was here? Well, that's planning for you.
People forget.
Now, the line links the city's sewerage system,
which discharges a mile or so out to sea.
So if the pathologist is saying foul play,
then, presumably, the killer put the body down the drain
expecting the same thing to happen.
Yeah, but they hadn't considered it not flooding the drain.
Oh, Christ.
Good luck, boss. Here comes Pepe.
Evening, Roy.
Cassian. I wasn't expecting you till Monday.
Allie Vosper suggested I drop by.
Well, it's very kind of her, but, erm...
it'll be slow work until Monday.
You got all the CSIs and search officers you need?
I have. Thank you. No Glenn Branson?
Usually Me And My Shadow with you two, isn't it?
Or is he still on light duties after getting shot?
Wedding anniversary.
I'm sorry you've had a wasted journey.
If you'd given me a call, I could've saved you the bother.
Never a bother, Roy.
Pleasure. Always.
Sergeant.
You know what Hughie Green would've said?
"If you can't spell Cassian Pewe,
"just write down 'pompous shitehawk' and we'll know who you mean."
Unbelievable.
Help!
Hello?
I'm stuck! I'm in the lift!
Help!
Somebody help!
Am I the love of your life?
Mm-hm.
Am I, Grace?
You are.
You're not lying to me, are you?
You're so needy.
You're so boring!
We're on a romantic weekend away,
and you've got your nose stuck in whatever it is.
Annual crime report. It's important.
Oh, and I'm what?
Work, work, work. Read, read, read.
Just so boring, boring, boring!
What's up? Pay attention to me.
Come on, Dobbin. Giddy-up!
Once around the Great Hall. Mm.
"My Sex Pest Hell, by Top Brighton Cop."
Oh... Hey... Hey...
It's OK.
You're OK.
Yeah, sorry. Er...
Do you want to talk about it?
It's not... It's not good to keep it inside.
If not to me, then someone.
Glenn, whoever.
Is it work?
Yeah.
I-I'm OK.
Sorry I woke you. Mm.
DNA samples from the hair and a bone sample from the thigh
have been sent for analysis.
I'm no orthodontist, but four fillings.
Three white composite, one gold inlay.
An all-porcelain bridge from upper right six to four.
But this is interesting...
I might be wrong, but I think lab analysis will tell us
that this is carpet fibre.
Too hard to be from a pullover or a skirt or a cushion cover.
Where did you find it?
Artificial nail. From a nail bar.
A plastic compound, glued on.
Somehow, the nails didn't get to be washed away
while the skin beneath rotted.
The fibre was beneath the middle finger.
It could be that her assailant dragged her along a carpet
and she dug her nails in.
Bit of luck that it didn't get washed away.
So, what did I miss? Anything from the site to go by?
Search is continuing, but nothing as yet.
I wouldn't get your hopes up.
Whatever went in there with her, if there was anything at all,
has long since washed away.
Hey, your old mate Cassian Pewe
gets his boots under the desk today, doesn't he?
That's what's up, isn't it?
You're not right.
Sandy had a tooth capped.
Roy...
Same height. Same build.
It's not her. Same hair colour.
Come on... Same age.
Roy, no. Stop, OK?
You can't keep imagining that every Jane Doe is gonna be Sandy.
You can't do it.
You really think that's not how it is every time I get called out?
Every time the phone rings in the middle of the night?
It's the last thing I think of when I go to sleep,
and the first thing I think of in the morning.
Is today the day? Roy...
Is today the day that I find Sandy? Roy.
Look, I'll, er...
Erm...
Darren's had to... cry off his shift.
Right.
So I'm going to be on call tonight.
Sure.
We should probably talk.
Yeah. Course.
I'm gonna book off for an hour.
I'll see you back on the shop floor.
Hey.
You all right? Yeah.
Yeah, there's just something I need to take care of.
Can you hear me down there?
There. You all right, love? You all right in there?
Don't worry, you're safe, pet.
You've had a weekend of it, haven't you?
Come on.
That's it.
Roy.
I've just been welcoming Cassian to the team.
Since you'll have your hands full with this body in the storm drain,
I'd like Cass to start his time here
by looking through your cold case files.
I have...
quite a particular system in place, Ma'am.
Which you can explain to Detective Superintendent Pewe, I'm sure.
Thank you, Cassian. That'll be all.
Ma'am.
Roy.
The Met is the biggest and most innovative police force in the UK.
I think we can learn something from Cassian. Such as?
Off the top of my head...
how to run an operation that doesn't leave Branson shot
and Boutwood with possible career-ending injuries.
You don't think your methods leave room for improvement?
I don't want a personality clash.
If you two can't get along...
Ma'am.
Last in, first out, isn't it? Traditionally.
You know me, Roy.
I was never one for tradition.
'Hello?' Hi, Mum. It's me.
'Abby?
'Oh, this is a good line. I can hear you ever so clear.
'Where are you? You still in Spain?'
No, Mum. South of France.
You're all right? 'Oh, yes.'
Seen anyone?
'Me? No!
'No-one's been near nor by. Which is how I like it.
'You're all right, are you?'
Yeah, I'm all right. 'How's that fella of yours, Harry?'
Horry, Mum. He's fine.
Nobody's called you?
'Called me? Who's gonna call me?
'I don't know anybody.
'The only calls I get are about a car accident I've never had.'
I tell them I can't drive any more. Doesn't seem to stop 'em.
Nothing outside of that? Nobody asking about me, or anything?
'About you?'
No.
Where are you? You still in Spain, are you?
No, Mum.
South of France.
'And how's that fella of yours, Harry?'
Horry.
He's good, Mum. He's good.
Listen, that Clerwell House I told you about...
They've got a beautiful room with a view of the river coming free.
I've reserved it.
'Where are you gonna get the money for that?'
Don't worry about that. I'm taking care of it.
Once it's all settled, I'll come over and help you move in.
'All right. Well, I won't run your phone up.'
My programme's coming on. Him with the antiques.
OK, Mum. All right, well, I'll call you soon, OK?
You take care. 'Love you.'
Love you, too.
What you got, Nick?
This is a list of all missing persons in the county of Sussex
who fall into the estimated time period of the victim's death.
Everything all right?
Yeah. It's just...
the list includes your wife.
And so it should.
OK, where are we with the sewer and the storm drain?
There's a few entry points.
The council sewer team are drawing us up a schematic.
The outlet goes far enough out to sea to ensure all sewage
gets transported offshore by the current, rather than towards it.
Presumably, that's what the killer was banking on.
Could be an engineer, then? Someone who knows the system.
The storm drain for the Brighton to Kemp Town railway's
not part of the sewerage system, as such.
Most people wouldn't even know it's there.
That line's been out of service for donkey's.
Trainspotters, maybe? Urban explorers?
We'll get a lot further once we've put a name to her.
Miss Jennings? Katherine Jennings?
It's Kevin Spinella, Brighton Argus. Er...
I wanted to talk to you about your terrible ordeal.
Stuck in a lift for the weekend?
No, sorry. I really don't wanna talk about it.
Miss Jennings?
'With regard to the body found in the storm drain on Friday last,
'although we can't be certain as to the cause of death...'
whoever murdered her would probably have had
a good local knowledge of Brighton and Hove.
We're obviously very keen to identify the victim.
'At the time of her decease,
'she would have been mid-to-late 30s.
'Height approximately five foot three inches.
'And her hair colouring was brown.
'Anyone recognising this description...'
as someone they might have known, locally,
who went missing in the last ten years,
can reach me or a member of my team here at East Sussex House.
Thank you.
'Express Send Couriers.
'Jonathan speaking. How can I help you?'
I have a package I need delivered.
'Certainly. Let's just start with a few details.
'What time would you like your package picked up?'
'Around seven tonight, please.'
I sent her dental profile to a number of Brighton practices.
Got lucky.
Her name is - or rather, was - Joanna Welbeck.
Single or married? Married.
She was an actress.
Don't know the full story yet, but they split up,
and she went to Los Angeles to, you know, make her name.
Or so the husband told everyone.
Sounds like we should have a chat with Mr. Welbeck.
That'd be a bit one-sided.
He died in a plane crash seven years ago.
Light aircraft went down in the Channel
on a private charter flight from Jersey.
Although, given the crowd he was running with,
there's talk it might not have been accidental.
Mrs. Balkwill?
Detective Superintendent Pewe, East Sussex CID.
I wonder if I might have a quick word with you and your husband?
It's about Sandy.
I've been brought in from the Met to review cold cases in East Sussex.
And...
I don't think your daughter's disappearance
has been adequately investigated.
In what way?
Well, normally, when a wife goes missing,
the husband is instantly the prime suspect.
But it doesn't seem that your son-in-law
was ever formally regarded as such.
Are you saying that's what you think now?
Not at all.
But I think radical steps need to be taken
to eliminate him from suspicion, and...
I mean to take them.
For everyone's sake.
Would you say Sandy's was a happy marriage?
Well, she had to put up with being on her own a lot.
And being disappointed at the last minute
when he got called out for work.
I mean, you must have a bit of that too.
Oh, I'm not married, Mrs. Balkwill.
We...
don't think that Roy is a suspect.
Y-You mustn't go jumping to the wrong conclusions.
This is merely about closure.
Enabling you and your husband
to move on with your lives.
And, of course, hopefully...
clearing Roy's name, once and for all.
Thank you.
Now, there was very little wreckage recovered,
but what there was indicated
that the aircraft was subject to a sudden catastrophic event.
What do you mean, like... What, like a bomb?
Yeah. Or a lightning strike.
See, it was a very stormy night. But there was no mayday sent.
It was just there one minute and gone the next.
Speculation was that it most likely exploded and broke up in mid-air.
What about bodies?
Never recovered. Ronnie Welbeck, nor the pilot.
Now, they found some personal property,
and a shoe of Ronnie's
that indicated he was on the plane when it went down.
Now, his wife, Lorraine, identified it all as his.
Lorraine? So he... remarried?
Yeah, looks that way.
All right. Well, let's try and track her down.
In the meantime, what information do we have on Joanna Welbeck?
Any family we can talk to? No. Parents are deceased.
Same as Ronnie Welbeck. Yeah, well, Ronnie had previous.
First time on the radar was '97.
He worked for a dodgy second-hand car dealership,
clocking cars and knocking out cut-and-shuts with Sean Klinger.
Sean "The Snowman" Klinger, eh?
Brighton and Hove's very own Escobar.
Yeah, well, him and Ronnie started out working together.
Then they got into a bunch of trouble
over a bunch of clocked cars,
and the business disappeared overnight.
The entire garage burned down, with all the records.
12 months, suspended.
Come on up. Seventh floor.
Nice to see you, Abb.
Not mad about the new look.
'Just a few questions about the late Ronnie Welbeck, Mr. Klinger.'
You were close, I understand.
Well, I knew him. What about Joanna, his first wife?
Yeah, I knew both of 'em. Jo and Lorraine.
What was Jo like?
Ex-lap dancer. Nice arse. But...
volatile. That's the word, isn't it?
I find you often get that, with the highly-sexed sorts.
Dynamite under the duvet,
but an absolute liability in any kind of decent company.
In what way?
She'd let her mouth run away with her in drink.
Ronnie'd tell her to tone it down, next thing it's a screaming match.
Nobody wants that.
Did he ever hit her?
Never saw him give her a proper dig.
Would he have been capable of killing her, do you think?
We're probably all "capable", aren't we?
But it's sort of academic now, isn't it?
And how's that?
Well, when Jo realised that Ronnie didn't have the Midas touch,
she left him. Went off to the States.
Human remains found in a storm drain in the centre of Brighton on Friday
have been identified as Joanna Welbeck.
She'd been there a long time.
I'm shocked.
And you think Ronnie did it? It's an avenue of enquiry.
What about his second wife?
Lorraine? Hmm.
Now, she could have the top off the milk any morning.
Fantastic tits. Sold timeshares abroad.
But Ron and I had kind of dropped out of each other's orbit by then.
What do you mean?
Well, people come and they go, don't they?
Were you in touch with Ronnie when his plane went down?
No. I sent a wreath with my sincere condolences,
but when Ronnie died, I hadn't seen him for a couple of years.
What about the rumour that it might not have been accidental?
That there might have been a bomb on board?
Well, in general, I try not to increase
the sum total of nonsense in the world by repeating baseless rumour.
What was he doing in Jersey? I've really no idea.
Where can we find Lorraine?
Well, you won't.
Unless you've got a boat and a deep sea diving suit.
She topped herself.
Stepped off the Newhaven to Dieppe ferry one night.
About a year after Ron died.
Summer 2016? Round then.
Besides yourself, who were Ronnie's closest mates?
He was pretty tight with a guy called Chad Skebbs.
But he emigrated to Spain.
Anyway, as I said, I only had ten minutes, so...
Sorry.
Now, why would you want to courier old newspapers in a Jiffy bag?
Unless it was to make somebody keeping an eye on you
think you'd sent something else altogether.
Enjoy your weekend?
I thought with you safely boxed up, I'd be able to get into the flat
and give it a proper going over.
But you've got it locked down
tighter than a camel's arse in a sandstorm.
Still...
gave you a little fright, eh?
Where are they, Abb. Hmm?
Nope.
No.
I'm gonna ask you some questions and you're gonna answer.
Yes?
So, are they here?
OK, are they in Brighton?
In a safe-deposit box maybe?
Look what I found.
I wonder if I might have a word about Roy Grace?
Hmm.
Off the record.
You know, in the last seven years, the only officer to review
the investigation into his missing wife is Roy himself.
Now, this is no criticism of East Sussex and, of course,
it pre-dates your appointment but...
that would never have happened in the Met.
What are you saying?
Well, erm, her parents feel that nobody at East Sussex Police
carried out an impartial investigation.
And what do you think?
Well, I just want to make sure we've done everything possible
to put their minds at rest.
Hmm.
So one wife sets off to America,
ends up in a storm drain in Brighton.
The second jumps off a cross-Channel ferry.
Oh, well, I guess some people are just unlucky in love, eh?
According to US authorities, there's no record of Joanna Welbeck
ever having entered the United States on any documentation.
No surprises there, then.
So Ronnie kills her, dumps her in the storm drain,
and then tells everyone she left him and ran off to Hollywood.
Lorraine Welbeck, second wife,
is still officially recorded as a MISPER.
We've a sister for a next of kin. Maureen. Lives in Newdigate.
So Ronnie's death must have come
as a great shock to your sister, Miss Finton.
Lorraine was in a terrible state. Depressed. Suicidal.
Well, obviously.
He left her in a right mess, financially, with his debts.
When did she meet Ronnie? About eight years ago.
He was looking for a place in the South of France
as an investment, and that's where they met.
She sold timeshare, is that right?
Well, it was more just overseas property.
Undeveloped plots of land people could build on.
That sort of thing.
Spain. France.
Jersey? A little bit, I think.
And did they have anywhere abroad, if Ronnie was looking?
Not that I ever knew. What was Ronnie doing in Jersey?
That last trip, do you know?
He had some business there, Lorraine said.
His stamps, maybe. Stamps?
What was that, a hobby?
More of a business, really.
One night in the pub he showed me this stamp out of his wallet
he paid 50 grand for. All wrapped in tissue.
I said, "Don't put that on a letter, will you?"
Was he insured, do you know? Oh, I expect so.
Not that Lorraine saw any of it. His creditors were all over her.
When they cleaned her out, she just sort of retreated into a shell.
Ended up in a wee rented flat down Montpelier Road.
To be honest, I think that's what put her over the edge.
That come-down.
And... losing Ronnie, of course.
So eight years.
Ronnie would still have been married, when he met your sister.
Lorraine said he wasn't getting on with her.
His first wife. Joanna, was it?
He thought there might've been another man.
And then she just walked out on him.
We should talk to the overseas property firm
that Lorraine worked for.
See if Ronnie Welbeck ever did find his investment.
What, you reckon he's got somewhere abroad?
It's possible, isn't it?
If he was trying to keep his finances hidden.
You know much about stamps? First or second class?
Look, I'll have a ring round.
See if we can find any dealers that remember him.
We should check out the life insurance as well.
See how much debt he left her with.
I suppose you think you're very smart.
Lock it all away in a safe-deposit box
that requires iris recognition to open it.
How about I cut your eye out and take that with me,
see if it recognises that?
If not, I'll come back for the other one.
Of course, if that doesn't work, then we're both stuffed.
You'll be blind, and I'll be no better off.
But you know that, don't you? So...
What would get you to play ball?
'That Clerwell House I told you about.
'It's got a beautiful room with a view of the river coming free.
'I've reserved it.'
'Where are you gonna get the money for that?'
'Don't worry about that, I'm taking care of it.'
"Don't worry about the money, Mum."
That's what I like about you, Abb.
You're all heart.
Talk to me.
I'm sorry. It was a bad weekend.
There were similarities between the skeleton and...
Sandy.
The dental work. And the age. And the hair colouring.
And then Nadiuska found the blue carpet fibres...
The bedroom rug is... Yeah, I know. I've seen it.
Come in?
I don't really want a back and forth on the doorstep
like we're in a Richard Curtis.
I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone the way you lost Sandy.
But then... you can't imagine what it's like being with someone
who has lost someone the way you lost Sandy.
If that's still a thing for you, then...
It isn't.
She's gone.
And she's not coming back.
But if she did?
She's not going to.
There were only ever two possibilities.
She can't come back,
or she won't come back.
And if it's the former, then me or somebody like me
will get to the bottom of it.
But I accepted a long time ago
that I might never find out what happened.
And if she won't come back?
Then I'll know that it's me she left
and that no harm's come to her.
And I hope more than anything... that that's the case.
And that thing that you said to Glenn,
about always thinking the next call-out
will be the one that finds her...
There's not really anything I can do about that.
Why didn't you say something?
Because I didn't want...
..something that happened in my life...
..to change...
..how we are with each other.
To let it define whatever comes next.
Then you have to be honest.
Nothing that means anything can ever grow out of secrets.
Try anything clever and your mum's dead. Got it?
Maybe a little smile.
'Southern Deposit Security.' Katherine Jennings.
I want to access my safe-deposit box.
'Of course. Come in.'
Far end, on the right.
Come on, what you doing? I feel sick.
I haven't eaten anything in 24 hours.
I just need to catch my breath.
Wait...
Eastbourne, please.
'I can hear you breathing.'
Better make the most of it.
We are now able to put a name to the human remains
discovered in the New Laines Quarter of the city on Friday evening.
They are those of Joanna Welbeck.
At the time of her disappearance,
Joanna was married to a Ronnie Welbeck,
who died some seven years ago in a plane crash.
Is he your prime suspect in this?
My team are pursuing a number
of promising lines of enquiry,
although, I would urge anyone who knew Joanna to please come forward.
Thank you.
Detective Superintendent, can I have a quick word?
Of course, Mr. Spinella. Er, it's nothing to do with this.
Just something that I thought I ought to mention.
I got a call from a contact with the fire brigade, Monday.
They had a shout to Embassy Court in town for a young woman
stuck in a lift. Slow news week?
Er, she'd been there since Friday night.
Thing is, I felt something wasn't right.
Her building supervisor reckoned that vandals must have
broken in to the lift motor room and tampered with the brake mechanism
and the electrics. He found a couple of syringes in there.
She was unlucky. Sure.
But what he wasn't able to explain was why the alarm system,
which should have rung through to his flat, failed to do so.
Or why her front door was fitted with more locks than Fort Knox.
If I didn't know better, I'd say she was frightened of something.
Or someone.
Katherine Jennings, Flat 120, Embassy Court, Kings Road, Brighton.
I know we're up to our ears,
but maybe swing by, see if everything's OK.
Just to be on the safe side.
I know Spinella's a pain in the arse,
but even a stopped clock and all that.
Could be a domestic issue? Abusive boyfriend.
Yeah, well, if she's in trouble, I don't wanna miss it.
Hi. I've got a step-brother for Joanna Welbeck.
Goes under the stage name of Mitzi Dufors.
Member of Brighton and Hove's thriving and vibrant
LGBTQ+ community.
OK.
We've got cocktails for two this afty.
I spoke to the property company Lorraine Welbeck worked for.
There was a plot of land that Ronnie was interested in at the time,
not too far from Biarritz.
Did he go through with it?
Er no, no, he didn't, but it was acquired shortly thereafter
on behalf of an unknown client from a firm called
Cape Trafalgar Holdings.
The name stuck with the French office, apparently.
I can see why it might. And?
Well, I've asked the locals to take a look,
but from the paperwork I managed to track down,
Cape Trafalgar Holdings was a sole trader outfit.
Its, er, owner was a David Irvin Nelson.
Registered office is a PO Box in St Helier.
Any connection with that and what, er,
Ronnie Welbeck was up to in Jersey?
A friend in the NCA says Ronnie Welbeck was running gear
in and out of the island on behalf of Sean Klinger.
There's talk Welbeck was skimming more off the top
than Klinger might have been prepared to put up with.
So what are we saying, Klinger brought the plane down?
Well, it's certainly the suspicion.
♪ You don't have to stay forever ♪
♪ I will understand Believe me. ♪
♪ Believe me. ♪
Very nice, your Dusty. Thanks.
Do you do any others?
When the wind's in the right direction, I do a mean Ann-Margret,
not that there's much call for her these days.
No, I meant any more Dusty Springfield tracks?
Oh. You're a fan. Who isn't?
Ah, well, Preacher Man, of course. Aye.
Dusty In Memphis is an absolute classic.
You didn't come here to talk about Dusty.
No. No.
You mentioned something about a photo of Joanna.
I'll want it back.
Yeah, course.
When was this taken? Around the last time I saw her.
London Olympics, maybe?
More recent than anything we've got, so...
Um, you're her step-brother, then, is it?
Half-brother.
Our father left my mum to take up with Joanna's mother.
And the old man died when she was ten, so I kept an eye.
Got the odd phone call, maybe at Christmas,
but she had her life and I had mine.
Next thing I heard is she was getting married to Ronnie.
Did you ever meet him? Once or twice.
It was money this, money that.
I just thought he was dodgy. Well, they all were.
Who's all? His mates.
Villains. But she was happy enough.
To begin with, at least.
And then what, it all went off?
I think she was after an out for a while.
And there was this fella sniffing around.
What fella? Pal of Ronnie's.
I can't remember his name. Chas, was it? Chet, maybe?
Right, was she having an affair?
I did wonder if it was him she'd gone off with.
You see, when her mother died,
she left her this little place in Brentwood.
When was that? About six months before she went.
I heard on the grapevine via Ronnie that she'd gone to LA.
So I thought she must've used the money from the house
to fund going to America.
And you didn't hear anything from her after that?
I didn't really expect to. Not if she'd gone off with a new fella.
Yeah, yeah, that's right. So it's mixed roses. Red and white.
And that's delivered to Ari Branson in the Radiology Department.
Yeah. No, this afternoon's great. Cheers.
Thanks a bunch. Thank you. Bye-bye. Bye.
Bit early to be making amends, isn't it?
Haven't you just come back from a romantic weekend away?
Don't tell me you've blotted your copybook already.
You know I said it went fine?
It didn't go fine, did it? Nope.
No, it did not go fine.
I mean, you tell me, what is so wrong with a tandem skydive?
OK, how about, A: you're scared of heights,
and B: you hate flying.
Apart from that, no, yeah, it's perfect.
That's the thing. I'm not.
I'm not scared of heights. Not any more.
Since when? I don't know. But it's just...
It's just gone.
I don't know how to describe it. I mean...
What's that thing that people say?
"Feel the fear and do it anyway."
I mean, once, even just being up high, my legs would just go,
right, just turn to jelly.
Now? Well, now it's like...
It's like I'm, I'm over it.
And that's, that's gotta be a good thing, though, right?
Maybe.
Although, sometimes fear is the only thing that keeps us alive.
In this job anyway. Fools rush in and all that.
Maybe try and lay off the needless heroics for the time being.
Speaking of fools...
..has Cassian Pewe redecorated your office yet?
All right, go on. What is it? What is it with you two?
One time, the Met sent down reinforcements to help us out
with the Labour Party conference in town.
Pewe was a DI.
He ended up nicking a couple of informants
that I'd been cultivating for several years.
He refused to drop charges.
So I took it to Vosper,
and she sided with the blue-eyed boy down from the Smoke.
Never rub another man's rhubarb.
Bella?
The lift mechanism's been tampered with.
Sabotaged, according to the engineer.
Someone interfered with the brake mechanism
when the lift was in operation.
And the alarm and phone cables were cut.
And what did Miss Jennings say? 'Nothing yet.'
She's a new tenant, apparently. Short let.
Lives on her own and only goes out after dark.
Where is she now?
Last seen earlier today leaving the building with a man.
Caretaker says she's single.
Nick about? No.
I did see him talking to old Cassian Pewe at his desk
just before lunch.
What did he want? Your guess is as good as mine.
Did you want him for anything in particular?
Yeah, I asked him to run a PNC on that known associate of Welbeck's
that Klinger mentioned. Chad Skebbs.
He asked me to do it. Full name - Richard Skebbs.
Turns out he's wanted in connection
with an allegation of indecent assault, from 2014.
Didn't Klinger say that Skebbs went abroad?
Spain, wasn't it? 'DS Moy.'
I think you'll find the correct term is "fled".
Roy.
Spinella. Line three.
Says it's important.
Mr. Spinella. We're looking into Miss Jennings.
Thank you for the tip-off,
we've got nothing official to say at this time.
Er, actually, it was you I was calling about.
I wondered if you had any comment about what's going on at your house?
My house?
Well, if you don't know anything about it,
maybe you should get over here.
I'll be outside.
You all right?
I'll be with you in a minute.
What the fu...
Nick...
What the hell is this? GPR.
Ground penetrating radar. I... I assumed you had OKed this.
OKed what?
Nick? I've got a search warrant.
Is this a joke?
Who requested the warrant?
How dare you?!
What, this?
CSI crawling all over my home.
Taking soundings in my back garden
for the body you think I have buried there.
Call it off. Now.
I'm sorry. But having spoken to Margot and Derek...
You spoke to Sandy's parents?
Allie Vosper asked me to take over your backlog.
And Sandy's was the first case you turned up, was it?
She remains a cold case, Roy. You're telling me that?
There isn't a stone I have left unturned.
Psychics? Cranks and mind readers? End-of-the-pier fortune-tellers?
If you'd lost somebody you'd loved,
you would know that there is nothing you wouldn't do to get them back!
No matter how unlikely. How do you know what I'd do?
But I'll tell you this, I wouldn't turn it into a three-ring circus.
I was cleared of any involvement in Sandy's disappearance. Exonerated.
Not to the standard that we would've applied in the Met.
The Met? Really?
Well, as we all know, they're infallible, aren't they?
Ronnie Welbeck's life insurers finally got back to me.
The pay-out was three million pounds.
Three months before she stepped off that ferry,
Lorraine withdrew the entire amount in cash.
She died in poverty, with nearly three million in the bank?
Except the money wasn't in the bank.
Ronnie and Lorraine Welbeck's joint account
shows an ever-increasing overdraft,
with just occasional small amounts coming in.
Yeah, we knew they had money issues.
Yeah, right up until the day he died.
But an account was opened in Lorraine Welbeck's sole name
nine months after Ronnie was killed.
For the life insurance, presumably?
Yeah, but I don't understand how it was paid out that fast.
Well, the insurance company assigned to the case weren't entirely happy,
but the Drugs Squad investigation suggested there was another dealer,
possibly French,
who wanted to give Klinger a message to keep off his turf.
They blew the plane up?
Using Ronnie as collateral.
Well...
that to one side for the minute, is there some sort of pattern here?
Look, Ronnie Welbeck's first wife inherits money,
disappears to the States and ends up in a storm drain.
Then his second wife inherits money
and ends up at the bottom of the Channel.
So what're you saying, she didn't commit suicide?
Somebody killed her?
I'm just what-iffing.
Couldn't've been Ronnie, then,
because he died in that plane crash or bombing
or whatever it was a year before Lorraine died.
Yeah, but what about his mate, Skebbs?
Mitzi Dufors said one of Ronnie's mates was sniffing around Joanna.
Couldn't remember the name, but it was something like Chas or Chet.
Hmm. Not too much of a stretch to Chad, is it?
Well, I've been doing some digging around Richard "Chad" Skebbs.
And it seems that it wasn't in the public interest
to follow him to Europe.
He thought they'd fled to Albania,
but he's last been seen in Spain and southern France.
Keep digging.
I've got a lead on a guy called Hector Hegarty.
He's a stamp dealer, remembers doing business with Ronnie Welbeck.
'My God, it's a nightmare as well.'
Don't get up. Don't get up. What're you doing here?
I thought you were still away. I wanted to surprise you.
Oh, Mum. I've missed you so much.
So much. Ohh!
Detective Superintendent Pewe.
'This is DS Franks from Interpol.'
How can we help you?
'I believe you asked our colleagues in France to look at
'a development sight for you. Is that correct?'
Oh, yes, I did a fair bit of business with Ronnie over the years.
He wasn't the easiest person to deal with. In what way?
Well, you know. To put it crudely,
the provenance on some of his stuff was doubtful, shall we say?
What about his second wife?
Did Lorraine Welbeck ever contact you after her husband's death?
I don't suppose it matters now. But she had me swear to secrecy.
Well, a murder inquiry trumps
any word you might have given, Mr. Hegarty.
She came to see me, spring 2016,
wanted to invest some money in stamps.
Can you remember the sum involved? Not offhand.
But any big order draws attention in the stamp world.
She wanted it done quietly and discreetly.
So I fronted the purchases for her. Spread the money around.
Said I was buying for an anonymous collector.
Can you provide us with a list
of all the stamps that you sold to Mrs. Welbeck?
And the value.
Give me a little time to consult my records.
Could you also give us a list of anyone
who might have been able to afford them,
if she'd wanted to sell them on?
I can give you the dealers, and a few individual collectors
like myself. Course, back then, round here,
there was a chap Ronnie knew well himself, but he went abroad.
Who was that?
Richard Skebbs. Called himself Chad.
Always dealt in big numbers.
Still does, but all done over the internet now.
And did you ever buy from him? Oh, once bitten...
I bought some Spanish Civil War era stamps from him.
Did me right up.
They weren't in anything like the condition he had promised.
When I complained, he told me to sue him.
Frankly, I'm amazed he's still in business.
What's going on, Ab? What is it?
I may be getting forgetful, but I'm not stupid.
You're frightened.
It's just someone who wants me to go out with 'em.
He's trying to get to me through you. That's all.
What's your fella doing about it? Nothing, Mum. He's not here.
Why isn't he? It's complicated.
The taxman's after him.
And if he comes into the country, he could get picked up.
Doesn't sound like much of a boyfriend.
A man ought to take care of the woman he loves.
Hi, I need some new locks at my mum's flat.
'Right.' And a safety chain and a spyhole.
Lorraine Welbeck's name is on a Post-it on my desk.
"DS Franks"?
Ah, yes. This location you've asked the French to take a look at.
What's this?
It's to do with the body in the storm drain, Ma'am.
Remains of an unidentified, pregnant woman
were found in the boot of a car pulled from a lake on the property.
It's been there for some years.
They've obtained DNA from her and the foetus,
but they haven't been able to make any matches on their database.
Where does Lorraine Welbeck fit in?
Lorraine Welbeck is the second wife of Ronnie Welbeck, Ma'am.
She was working for the estate agent
that sold the plot of land in France.
Oh, it's rather more than that, Roy.
The corpse in the boot of the car had silicone breast implants.
Now, you may not know this,
but they're all printed with the manufacturer's batch number.
This particular pair was supplied
to a cosmetic surgery hospital in Woodingdean in 2015.
So I called them.
They matched the implants with the name...
Lorraine Welbeck.
That's excellent.
Don't you think so, Roy?
What are we saying, Lorraine Welbeck swam the Bay of Biscay
with three million quid stuffed between the Devil's dumplings?
Doesn't seem very likely. Probably not, Norman.
But she was four months pregnant.
The French have no paternal DNA match,
but we're checking our database, we should hear back later or tomorrow.
Anything on cause? Strangulation.
Same as Joanna Welbeck.
Did we get any further on the owners of this plot of land in France?
Cape Trafalgar Holdings and this elusive David Nelson?
No. Nothing.
At least we know that Lorraine Welbeck didn't commit suicide.
Run a check on the passenger manifest for the ferry
on the night that she supposedly jumped.
What am I looking for?
Anything out of the ordinary. Chad Skebbs, maybe?
Mitzi Dufors said he was sniffing around Joanna Welbeck.
And she came into money shortly before she disappeared.
So could he have been behind the bomb on Ronnie Welbeck's plane?
So he kills Ronnie Welbeck
and he's waiting to catch Lorraine Welbeck and Ronnie's life insurance.
Yeah, possibly. So, where's the money?
There's not gonna be room for three mil in the bazooka bag
if it's already stuffed with bought-and-paid-for silicone norks.
Did he really just say that out loud?
I don't think it was cash, Norman.
'When Ronnie Welbeck's plane went down, he died leaving massive debts.
'Every penny he left to Lorraine had been taken by his creditors,
'and their house repossessed.
'Before she got on that ferry,
'Lorraine Welbeck converted her husband's life insurance
'into something much easier to transport...
'..and far easier to conceal.'
Oh, my God!
Are you all right?
A man who hates me
is trying to convince the people that I work with
that I killed my wife. So...
You said to be honest.
Hmm. Is there anything I can do?
Unless you're a dab hand with carpet grippers...
Do you want to talk about it?
Do you?
Maybe not tonight.
Maybe tonight is exactly the right time to talk about it.
I'm not about to kick a man when he's down.
If I've got to be honest...
All right.
I just keep thinking...
..what if she walked through the door right now?
Where does that leave you and me?
It's not gonna happen.
See, erm...
..that's not the answer.
The answer is, "It wouldn't matter, Cleo.
"She walked out on me seven years ago. And I'm with you now."
Call me when you're through... with all of this.
Hello?
Mrs. Morton? Yes.
Silverlight Lockworks. Your daughter Abby called.
Come in.
I've just had a phone call from a rather nervous young woman.
She asked if I'd be able to sell a collection of high-value stamps.
When I asked for details,
she described exactly the stamps I purchased for Lorraine Welbeck.
Are you sure? If I hadn't gone through my files today,
I doubt I'd have realised they were such an exact match.
Did you ask her where she got them?
She said she inherited them from a woman she looked after in Spain.
Somebody she'd met at a party there told her
she'd get a better price in the UK
and I was one of the dealers she should talk to.
She's coming in this afternoon to show me the stamps.
What's her name?
Miss Jennings? Police.
Open it.
Miss Jennings?
Nice quiet hobby, eh, stamp collecting.
Mum?
'Abbs. It's me. It's Mum.'
Mum?
Mum, where are.. where d'you get a mobile?
Ricky wants to talk to you. Please do what he tells you.
Hello, Ab. Where's my mum?
Where is she, you bastard? Where is she?
She's fine. So far.
I'm calling the police.
Look, I don't care about anything else any more.
'What're you going to say to them?'
"I stole everything this man had
"and now he's caught up with me and taken my mother hostage?"
What, I stole from you? You and himself, obviously.
Was there any position he didn't tell you to shag me in
to get what you wanted?
This has got nothing to do with my mum, Rick. She's not well.
Look, just bring her here and we'll talk.
No. You bring me everything you nicked and then we'll talk.
Look, I meant what I said.
I'm hanging up now and calling the police.
You do that, and all they're gonna find is a chronically ill woman
who's committed suicide, and her daughter,
a self-confessed thief with a cock-and-bull story
about a man she stole from. Is that really what you want?
Rick!
So I've been going through the passenger manifest for the ferry
that Lorraine Welbeck didn't step off.
It seemed to me, if you're leaving one identity behind,
it makes sense to have another one lined up. Right?
You mean, she got on the boat as Lorraine Welbeck
and stepped off as someone else?
So I went through all the other women passengers travelling
on a single ticket and I compared them
to anyone travelling on from Dieppe.
I found one passenger who got on an Air France flight
within an hour of the ferry docking. Where to?
San Sebastian. Hold on. So she got on the ferry to Dieppe,
and then within an hour she got on a plane from there to Spain?
Why not just fly direct from the UK?
Name? Margaret Nelson.
Only, her ticket was paid for by one David Nelson.
Ah, the same David Nelson of Cape Trafalgar Holdings maybe?
So what're we thinking? Maybe David Nelson is Ronnie Welbeck?
More than maybe.
I also have a David Nelson who got on a flight to Madrid,
then on to San Sebastian from Jersey,
the morning after Ronnie's light aircraft disappeared in the channel.
So Ronnie Welbeck fakes his own death
in order to escape his creditors.
And Lorraine converts his life insurance into stamps
in order to fund her new life in Spain.
Isn't that where Chad Skebbs went off to? Potentially.
But where Lorraine was found just outside of Biarritz,
well, that's half an hour from the Spanish border.
Which is an hour to San Sebastian.
Just two Brighton boys having fun in the sun...
We've got DNA confirmation on the Lorraine Welbeck foetus.
Guess who the father is?
Ronnie Welbeck.
Not bad for a dead guy, eh? The Immaculate Erection.
See?
This is why we can't have nice things.
What about Katherine Jennings? We couldn't find her.
No. I mean, she's here. She's downstairs.
My real name's Abby Morton.
I flew back to England to try to escape my boyfriend.
I thought using a different name would make it easier.
But I was wrong.
OK, Abby, would you like to tell us what's going on?
Everything we need to know about you, your mother,
and the man you say who kidnapped her.
I was left a collection of stamps.
I didn't know anything about them, but I was dating this guy, Ricky,
in San Sebastian, who was in the rare stamp and coin business.
Ricky? As in Richard Skebbs?
Yeah. Yeah, you know him?
Yeah. We know him. Go on.
Well, I asked him to have a look at 'em for me.
See if they were worth anything. I gave them to him.
He gave 'em back a couple of days later.
He said there were a few there that might be worth something,
but most of them were replicas. Collectable, but not valuable.
He said they're worth a couple of thousand euros at most.
But a few days later, I was having a look at one of his stamp mags
and I came across this article about a Plate 77 Penny Red,
went for over 450 large at auction in London.
It was similar to the plate of Penny Reds I had.
Anyway, later that night he was wasted,
so I had a look at his laptop and I found
this bunch of emails to dealers all over the world,
offering stamps that were clearly mine for sale.
He'd broken 'em up so they couldn't be identified as a collection.
And did you confront him?
No.
When I first met him, he told me how easy stamps were to conceal.
How they were a great way to launder money
and transport it all across the world.
Even if you got stopped,
most customs wouldn't have a clue about their value.
'Ricky said the best way to hide 'em was inside a book.
'Hardback. Or anything like that.
'So, I searched his shelves.
'And I found them.'
I packed a bag and flew out on the first flight I could get.
So why didn't you go to the Spanish police, report what he'd done?
I thought he might spin the police a story to get them back.
Or come after me, try and hurt me.
My mum's not well.
I need the money from the stamps to pay for her to be in a home.
Did you ever meet this man?
No. Why? Who is he?
His name's Ronnie Welbeck. He's a known associate of Chad Skebbs.
We're looking for him in connection with a double murder.
Murder?
That's right, the body of his first wife
was found recently in a storm drain in Brighton.
And his second wife, Lorraine, was recovered from the boot of a car
in a pond on land that we believe Welbeck owns in Biarritz.
She was four months pregnant.
Both his wives had just come into considerable sums
before they were killed. You're sure you don't know him?
He may be calling himself Dave Nelson now.
Call himself what he likes, I... I wouldn't know.
I've never met him.
So you say you were left these stamps.
Yeah. That's right. By whom?
Mrs. Jennings. Katherine Jennings.
She was an old lady I was a live-in carer for in Spain.
And where are they now? They're...
they're safe.
You believe her? Not really.
But whatever else she's lying about, I do believe she's frightened.
There's no way she would come and see us
unless she was genuinely scared for her mother's life.
But she's lying about where she came by the stamps.
Almost certainly.
Ronnie was already seeing Lorraine
by the time Joanna came into her inheritance.
So Ronnie rids himself of Joanna, and then ends up with the money,
and Lorraine into the bargain.
Further down the line, he fakes his own death to escape his creditors
and then cashes in on his life insurance.
Which Lorraine collects and converts into stamps.
And then, Lorraine fakes her death, flies under an assumed name to Spain
to join Ronnie and start a new life as Margaret and David Nelson.
And then history repeats itself.
Ronnie meets Abby, the next thing you know,
Lorraine's in the boot of a car in a pond in France.
And the stamps?
Well, I think she's twisting the story a little bit.
So Ronnie gets in touch with his old mate Skebbs
with a view to selling the stamps.
And Skebbs rips him off by replacing the real ones with fake.
And Ronnie sends in Abby to get them back,
and, well, the rest goes down pretty much the way she said.
Yeah, but we'll get to the bottom of it.
But right now, our priority is getting Abby's mum back alive.
And on that score, all we can do
is wait for Skebbs to make his next move.
Ma'am.
Abby Morton, Katherine Jennings, is currently sitting in a hotel,
awaiting instructions from Skebbs
for the handover of the stamps and her mother.
I'd like Cassian on the team. In an observational capacity.
The man has tried to suggest I murdered my wife.
That's an observation. Cassian is an experienced hostage negotiator.
I'd like Skebbs taken alive, with no loss of life,
and no major injury to any of my officers or members of the public.
It's her.
I should probably clear the air.
You should probably clear your desk. I was trying to help.
And what did you find, Cassian?
In your search of my house and garden.
Nothing.
No. And do you know why?
Because I didn't murder my wife.
'Yeah.'
'You're late.' I missed the turn-off.
Where do you want me to go?
'Take a left at the top and a right after the barn.'
'Where's my mum?'
'Safe enough.
But I swear, if I see anybody besides you, she's dead.'
You're not following her? You heard him.
Where's my mum? Where's the stamps?
I want to see my mum. Just give me the stamps, Abby.
Argh!
Shit. What's she doing? Mum?
Abby? Abby! Mum?
Abby, help me! Go! Glen! Go!
Abby! Abby! Help me! Please stop! Mum!
Please stop the van!
Mum!
Give me your hands, give me your hands.
We're going to get out
It's all right. Don't let go.
I just need you to follow me out. Mum, Please.
Get in the van! Give it some extra weight!
Lean on it! Lean on it!
More gas!
Oh, God! Hold on.
Mum. Mum, come on, we need to go. Gonna fall.
No!
Give me your hand.
Floor it!
Mind out, mind out.
More weight! Put your weight on it. I am trying. Go, go!
Cassian, no, it won't take your weight!
Come on. Come on!
I've got you!
Roy! Help! Give me your hand!
Push! Push!
So you think Skebbs got hold of the stamps from Ronnie Welbeck,
then Abby Morton, in her turn, ripped off Skebbs for Ronnie?
Something like that.
So where are the stamps now? With Abby.
We've had them scanned and photocopied, for our records.
And she's agreed to produce them as an exhibit, if necessary.
And Hegarty is certain they're the ones
that he bought for Lorraine Welbeck?
Not so certain that he's willing to testify in a court of law.
None of this brings us a step closer
to arresting Ronnie for Joanna and Lorraine.
We've got two murder victims here, Roy. Two dead women.
Don't want us to lose sight of that fact. I haven't, Ma'am.
Not for a second.
'What about putting more surveillance on her?'
I suspect that Ronnie Welbeck will have long flown the coop
from wherever he's been holed up.
He'll have seen online that we've found the remains of his wives.
He wouldn't risk coming back here. Abby'll go and meet him somewhere?
Put out an "all ports".
She buys a ticket, or someone matching her description
turns up at passport control, hopefully she'll lead us to him.
What are you trying to win?
"A fortnight for two at a luxury hotel in Mauritius."
Mum, you don't even have a passport.
I know, love, but you could easily
get me one if I needed it, couldn't you?
I might be losing my marbles, but I'm not as daft as I look.
I'd love you to get a passport.
I'd love you to join me.
Where?
When I get settled somewhere.
We won't see each other again.
But it's all right.
I'd sooner you remembered me as I was.
Mum...
If you ever decide to have children, just remember.
First, you give 'em roots.
Then you give 'em wings.
I love you.
I know.
Go on. Go quickly, don't look back.
So when will I see you again?
'Soon.'
How soon is soon?
Dave?
I'll be there to meet you at the airport.
You got 'em?
Yeah, I got 'em.
That's my girl. Safe flight.
Roy, Abby Morton, AKA Katherine Jennings,
just checked in on a SpeedyJet's flight to Nice,
leaves at 3:45. Let her run.
'I need to know she's on the plane,
'and for Police Judiciaire to pick up surveillance at the other end.
'We need her to lead us to Ronnie.'
Grace.
'I have information for you regarding Ronnie Welbeck.'
He'll be at Lipa Noi Airport at 11am local time,
waiting to meet someone off Bangkok Airways flight 271.
Who is this?
Miss Morton?
Flight 309 connecting through to Rio de Janeiro.
Put your passport in there.
You lost her.
Yes, Ma'am.
But Ronnie Welbeck, Dave Nelson,
is now awaiting extradition to the UK from Thailand
on suspicion of the murder of both Joanna and Lorraine Welbeck.
And the stamps?
Well, Hegarty's certain that the stuff we photocopied is all rubbish.
And no-one's actually reported the stamps stolen.
Well, couldn't the insurance companies that paid out
on Ronnie Welbeck's life have a claim?
Same problem. Chain of title.
Without Hegarty testifying that they are the same stamps,
how are they going to prove it?
So where do we think she is now?
Lying on a beach somewhere.
'Sipping margaritas,
'and grinning her head off, I suspect.'
Smart lady.
Yeah, I certainly wouldn't want to cross her.
On the upside,
I did hear a rumour from Ground Control.
"Pepe le Pew" has applied for a transfer.
That's right. Back to the Met.
What brought that on?
I think being here was pushing him over the edge.