♪ It's all right It's OK
♪ Doesn't really matter if you're old and grey
♪ It's all right I say it's OK
♪ Listen to what I say
♪ It's all right, doing fine
♪ Doesn't really matter if the sun don't shine
♪ It's all right I say it's OK
♪ We're gettin' to the end of the day. ♪
Remind me why we're doing this?
Basic fitness-level requirements
for all serving officers.
Yes, but there should be an exemption for those of us above average IQ.
Yeah, well,
why not just... pick up the pace?
Yeah, who voted you Mr Motivator?!
Well, "What doesn't kill you can only make you stronger" --
Superintendent Nietzsche!
- Yeah, you tell Nietzsche these are vintage Scottish arteries! - Yeah.
And option one's a distinct possibility.
Yeah, well, fully qualified first responder, expert in CPR...
Oh, terrific(!) No tongues, OK?
Not my type, mate. Alive or dead. See you at the finish line.
I'm liking him less and less.
I'm gone, leave me. Save yourself.
Well, if you're sure?
Oh, shit!
Oh...
Oh! Well, that's what I call... motivation.
Excuse me?
Excuse me, do you know where a guy
can get a decent cup of coffee around here?
- Do all forensic anthropologists bring their work home with them? - What?
Yours, I believe.
Back of the sofa, halfway through Newsnight.
Quite a journey from Serbian war grave
to supporting Danny Griffin's posterior.
- Did you talk to Holly last night? - Yeah, we caught up.
And then we had "the discussion".
About you and me, you know, making this whole thing official?
- How did it go? - Well, it turns out I had nothing to worry about.
In fact, to use her exact words, and I quote, "Go for it, Dad."
Ah... I always liked her.
- And are we? - Are we what?
Going for it?
You know, the whole grown-up, genuine, adult commitment thing?
I'd like that very much.
Me too.
So, I think we should tell her, don't you?
Sarah. I mean, you are still married, we owe it to her.
Of course, you're right, I'll... I'll talk to her.
Do you want me to come with you? For moral support? I know it's not easy.
- No, no, I'll talk to her face-to-face... But thank you. - OK.
- Well, have a good day. - Yeah. Yeah, you too.
- See you later. - Bye.
Yes, sir.
OK, I'll meet you there as soon as I can.
Yeah, they can go on ahead.
What, all of them?
OK, I'll give them the good news.
Morning.
Oh, it's still last night from where I'm standing.
You drinking your own snot now?
Kale smoothie, packed with antioxidants.
Bleurgh!
Only seems like last week I was pushing you around in a wheelchair.
- Yeah, it was. - Oh, have you got any of your, um...
industrial-strength painkillers left?
Yeah, strictly speaking,
those are for people that have just had a bullet surgically removed.
Believe me, right now, that's what it feels like.
- Kitchen cupboard, right? Behind the goji berries? - How do you know?
- Are you ready? - Ah, absolutely.
You've heard of Dr David Hatton?
Home Office pathologist, retired a few years ago.
Something of a professional eccentric, if memory serves.
Actually, he was struck off just before the public inquiries
of the McKenzie case.
He was found to have made multiple errors,
which brought all his previous work into question.
Ah, the hallowed ground.
I truly believe that little green square
is the beating heart of England.
So, what happens here, then?
Really?
Lord's Cricket Ground.
Where do we fit in, sir?
His cases are being reinvestigated, new postmortems where possible.
- Basic box-ticking? - Exactly.
- For some reason, they thought of us. - Hm!
These are from September 2005.
Ajuna Da Silva. Professional cricketer, 26.
Universally known as "AJ".
His younger brother also played for the team -- Sanjeev Da Silva.
He found AJ's body... Apparently drowned in his bath on a match day.
- And Hatton did the PM. - Uh...
Found alcohol and prescription drugs in his system. No sign of foul play.
The coroner passed a verdict of misadventure.
But somebody disagrees.
My son was a great player.
A genuine loss to the game.
The idea that a dedicated professional sportsman
would risk his health and career this way is frankly preposterous.
Prem... um, Mr Da Silva
has always maintained that his son was murdered.
But according to the original PM
there were no other signs of injuries on the body.
Well, clearly that idiot of a pathologist missed them!
I know my son.
Misadventure?
The whole thing is completely out of character.
And as I've assured Prem,
we'll be leaving no stone unturned during this investigation.
- Sorry I'm late, sir. - Ah, perfect timing.
Prem, this is DCI Miller.
Sanjeev, my son.
I understand you found your brother's body?
DCI Miller rarely wastes time on formalities.
Um, it was an away match, and...
the entire team was staying in the hotel.
AJ missed breakfast and so I went to check on him.
- I assumed he'd overslept. - He did that a lot?
Sometimes. Not often.
Um, anyway, I couldn't wake him,
so we ended up getting a passkey from reception.
- And when you entered the room? - Um...
The bed was empty.
I called, but there was no reply. Um...
At first I thought he'd already left,
- but his coffin was still there by the room. - Coffin? - Kitbag.
Cricketers call them coffins
cos basically, they're big enough to hold a...
a... lot of kit.
Uh, I thought maybe
he must just have gone to another room or something.
Anyway, I needed to use the bathroom.
And then you found him?
So, the hotel room door was locked from the inside when you got there?
-- Um, yes. -- And no sign of a struggle?
Um...
We wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.
Um... He was just lying there.
His head was under the water and I knew straight away.
Sorry.
Was there empty bottles? Pill packets, a note?
AJ didn't drink!
He didn't smoke.
He certainly didn't take drugs.
Someone killed my son, DCI Miller.
I want you to bring them to justice.
Look, guys, I'll catch you up.
- Sir... - Mm-hm.
.. with all due respect,
I don't understand why we are investigating this case.
I've known Prem Da Silva for years.
He's never accepted the official line on his son's death.
And when the news about Hatton surfaced,
he immediately came to me and demanded a new investigation.
Prem trusts me. He's been obsessed with this for the last ten years.
If I can tell him myself that his son's death was misadventure,
- I think he'd finally let it go, life can go on. - I understand.
And not that it's relevant,
- but he's also my proposer for membership of the MCC. - Sir?
The Marylebone Cricket Club.
We do this right, and I can fulfil a lifelong ambition.
I see.
- Win-win. - Exactly.
- Below average? - All of us? - Well, except me, obviously.
I-I don't understand.
Six minutes for 1,500 metres is my personal best.
While I salute the achievement of a personal goal,
the fact remains that you all failed the compulsory fitness test.
- But who came top out of us three? - Well, it doesn't matter.
- Believe me, it does. - You all retest in three weeks' time.
Failure is not an option,
which means we've got some serious work to do.
And by we, I mean YOU, which is why I've bought you all these.
Pedometers.
Put them on your wrist
- and they record the number of steps you've taken. - Really?
Or we could always go back to my initial idea --
freestanding desks and a treadmill each?
- No, no. - Great, yeah.
Brilliant.
I've reviewed the new postmortem.
Cause of death remains the same -- asphyxiation.
No cracked ribs or head injuries to indicate any kind of assault,
but the new pathologist has flagged the lack of water in the lungs.
Now, Hatton originally called this as a dry drowning, but nobody...
OK, OK, stop. Translation, please.
Well, when you enter cold water, there's a reflex
that shuts the larynx tight, meaning that you drown,
but the lungs are dry
because the water didn't have a chance to go in.
- But, it is uncommon. - Which suggests he was dead before he hit the water.
- And no clear cause of death. - What about the toxicology?
Well, cocaine and stimulants are all negative.
Uh, hair samples suggest moderate levels of dihydrocodeine,
which is a prescription painkiller.
- Otherwise known as "bowler's breakfast." - Mm.
A daily painkiller's part of the routine for professional sportsmen.
They found alcohol as well.
Mm, approximately three times over the legal limit.
Well, that's hardly rock star excess!
His father said he didn't drink.
And if he wasn't used to it
and mixed it with the pills... Accidents happen.
It's possible, and young sportsmen do die unexpectedly.
Generally after exertion, yes, not in the bath after half a lager.
I knew it!
There was another death, same team, three months earlier. Peter Collins.
Left-arm medium pacer, middle-order bat.
Fell from a fourth floor window, where he lived,
and assumed to be suicide.
I don't remember that.
Well, both cases barely scraped the back pages.
We'd just won the Ashes, remember?
It was all Flintoff and humiliated Aussies.
So, we've got two deaths in the same team in the space of three months,
both fit athletes.
I mean, the odds of that must be...
16,800-1.
By multiplying the baseline death rate
of males aged between 20 and 40,
but obviously, it's just an approximation.
It could still be a coincidence.
Prem Da Silva seems convinced that his son was killed.
The new PM doesn't add up and now we've got another death.
There was an autograph hunter in the hotel, Alan Power.
AJ signed his book at approximately 8pm in the hotel lobby.
- Why don't you two pay him a visit? - All right. - Yeah.
- Yeah? - Mr Power?
Police, we'd like to talk to you.
Wait a second.
Thank you.
Uh...
Oh, I have a licence for that. I'll be happy to show you.
- You take your security very seriously. - Uh, can't be too careful.
This estate's a den of iniquity.
You know how much this collection's worth?
- How much? - £28,643.
Approximately. Tea?
Maybe you should take this one.
- Thank you. - Thank you.
A lot of the top sports teams use the Water Bridge Hotel.
There was a whole squadron of hunters
that went down there on match days.
The lobby is a natural pinchpoint.
But you are predominantly a cricket fan?
Not really.
But... But with autograph hunting, you have to take your chances.
I mean, I don't consider cycling a sport, but I once spotted
Sir Bradley Wiggins in a Little Chef in Towcester.
Got him to sign my bill.
But that year, it was all about the cricket.
The Ashes.
Freddie Flintoff?
KP beating the Aussies.
Well, I remember. Do you still have the book?
- Yep. - Could I?
- Mm. - Thanks.
Uh-ah!
Oh... Sorry.
September 16, 2005.
Water Bridge Hotel, championship team group.
I got the skipper...
Uh, AJ Da Silva, a couple of others, small fry.
We were all really waiting for KP to arrive.
May we keep this?
Uh, I do have a personal message from Sir Steven Redgrave.
"Please don't come to my house again."
Banter.
There's mutual respect there.
Clearly(!)
I'm going to need a receipt.
When you were his coach,
did you know anyone that might have wanted to harm AJ Da Silva?
AJ?!
Take your pick! The whole bloody team wanted to kill him.
Oh, he was a cocky little bastard. They hated him.
The lad wasn't a team player.
He didn't care if we won or lost, as long as he did well.
But you still picked him.
Well, he was a selfish little sod,
but he was the best cricketer we had, so he played, end of story.
Yeah. Best for the team, right?
But it must have caused a lot of resentment.
There were a few scuffles.
What, handbags at dawn or... proper fisticuffs?
They meant it all right.
Well, I took 'em apart, made 'em shake hands and...
all got on with it.
- So, what about his brother, was he a prima donna? - Sanjeev?
Nah, no, he's a nice lad. Pottsy, concentrate on that off stump, yeah?
No, not a patch on his brother, but... he was a good, solid cricketer.
Of course, word was they came as a package --
take AJ and play Sanjeev.
From what I heard from the lads,
Sanj ended up being his brother's minder half the time.
Kick out the girl, clear up the mess. Send the bottles to the recycling.
Prem Da Silva insists his son didn't drink.
AJ?
Spent all his cash on wine, women and song.
The rest, he just wasted.
- OK, what you got? - Um... 1,027.
1,150, get in!
It's not a competition.
The mantra of the eternal loser.
Well, perhaps some of us refuse to be so easily manipulated.
Oh, yadda yadda yadda...
I've left my wallet at the office, could you get these?
- Thank you. - Yeah.
Hi.
Hm.
How bad is it?
Did you do anything about it?
Me and Reedy, we... tore a strip off him every week!
That's Ryan Reed, the skipper?
Yeah, he didn't take a blind bit of notice.
But, when you can pitch up on a Saturday morning,
looking like death warmed up and score a century before lunch, then...
And, of course, you also, well, had another death that year.
Peter Collins.
No-one saw it coming. Least, not that he'd do a thing like that.
You think he topped himself?
Well, it's a funny sort of accident --
falling out of your own bedroom window.
Was he depressed?
Well, his marriage wasn't in great shape, we all knew that.
She was sleeping around and it got back to Peter.
Look, it's not common knowledge, but...
Laura Collins wasn't just sleeping around,
she was sleeping with another player.
One of his team-mates.
AJ Da Silva?
- I'm just surprised you let it get this far. - I overstretched myself.
As long as the pay cheques keep coming in, you...
stay one step ahead.
Until they don't cover the bills any more.
That is the basic flaw.
The divorce cleared me out.
- All right. Well, the first thing we need is a budget. - We?
If I'm going to help you, I need total disclosure, OK?
All assets, income and liabilities. There is a way out of this, Steve.
I don't want the others to know.
OK. Just between you and me.
Right, let's start with the assets.
- Um, property? - Well, there's my flat and...
- .. a mortgage that I can't pay. - Mm, death grip.
- What? - Literal translation of mortgage, from the French?
Look, if I'm going to do the confessional thing,
can you knock it off with the QI bollocks for five minutes?
- Sorry. - Yeah.
- Well, I'd advise you to sell and downsize. - It's my home!
- Which you can't afford. - I've sweated blood for that place.
Well, strictly speaking, you sweated blood for 24% of that place,
- the rest of it is owned by the bank. - I'll live in the kitchen.
Have it your way.
Liabilities?
How long have you got?
'Miller.'
AJ Da Silva was messing about with Laura Collins,
that's Peter Collins' wife.
'Interesting.
'OK, why don't I go and have a chat with this Laura Collins?'
It's a lovely kitchen. I looked at one of these. A bit pricey.
I believe in quality, DCI Miller. You should have treated yourself.
Thank you.
Oh, take one. I'd be happy to sign it for you.
- You're Laura Wilding? - They say everyone has a novel in them.
- Turned out I had 17! - Hm! It's not really my cup of tea.
Well, everyone says that, and yet, they just keep on selling!
- So, how long was your relationship with AJ? - About three hours.
AJ and I had a one-night stand. It was just sex.
Good sex. But just sex, nothing more, nothing less.
But then your husband found out.
That was unfortunate. He wasn't supposed to know.
- No, they never are. - Peter was a serious man. Borderline obsessive.
I married him because I thought he'd be good for me.
He was strong, single-minded.
Also, he had the body of an Adonis.
So, what went wrong?
The silly man killed himself, DCI Miller, over a stupid bloody game.
You'd slept with his team-mate -- you don't think that was a factor?
Oh, they all blamed the slut, of course.
But I know Peter, and I know why he really did it.
The stats don't lie. He was as depressed as his average.
His wife was sleeping with his team-mate, and you really think
he killed himself because he wasn't playing well enough?
You don't know Peter. Cricket was all he talked about.
- And AJ? - It was a distraction, nothing more.
Peter guessed I had my little moments and it worked for us.
Then the rest of the team found out about AJ and me
and the you-know-what hit the fan.
Ryan tried to keep them all together, but it got very difficult.
The team hated me.
Everything that happened to Peter was my fault.
Breaking Boundaries with Ryan Reed is about maximising your potential.
So, remember...
.. running your business is like going out to bat.
The opposition don't want you there.
They'll undermine you.
Try and knock your confidence. Their only desire is to see you fail.
So, here's the positive. You're going to be prepared.
You're going to be tough.
Keeping your eye on the ball and your body in line.
So you can hit the opposition for six... every time.
OK. Time for another exercise.
Break-out groups, please.
I've compared the market and switched all your utilities to the best current deals,
- but you will have to review them every six months minimum. - Six months, right.
I've also deleted your online accounts, your credit cards are here.
Oh, and this... is your new daily budget.
I'll get it laminated.
Now, no more takeaways.
Home-made packed lunches only and a total avoidance of alcohol,
which has added health benefits, obviously.
- Or I could just kill myself right now. - Well, I can't advise that.
At the moment, even basic funeral costs might be a problem.
What, are you telling me I can't even afford to die?
Well, I'd certainly rule it out for the next eight weeks or so.
But if you stick with the programme,
I estimate your monthly saving will be...
Well!
They love it.
I mean, it might mostly be middle-aged guys on the verge of diabetes,
but if at the end of the day you can send them home
feeling like they've scored a century, they're all winners.
That's certainly what they look like.
When I retired, I thought I'd left the game with nothing.
Then I realised what cricket had really taught me.
The ability to motivate a team.
Get under the skin of individuals, see what makes them tick.
And AJ Da Silva. What made him tick?
I'm not going to sugar-coat it.
AJ was lazy, disruptive, arrogant. But he was a great cricketer.
- I deeply regret what happened to him. - So, um...
You have any theory about his death?
He was a young man who pushed things too far and paid the price.
On the night he died, where were you between sort of eight o'clock
and midnight?
In the hotel bar with some of the guys.
Only, we've got some new evidence that suggests that
AJ Da Silva was possibly murdered.
Well, AJ was immature.
He was like a kid who'd been let off the leash for the first time.
He had no boundaries. We all assumed he'd paid the price.
Police seemed to agree with that.
Keith Ainsworth.
He told us that you and AJ used to fight on a regular basis.
AJ had been hothoused by his father since he was seven years old.
He never grew up. I tried to force him to conform but it wasn't in him.
- Basically, whatever he wanted, he took. - Like Laura Collins.
Laura's a...
A slapper?
I've got no problem with Laura.
Peter was a complex guy. Introverted.
I assumed he was dealing with his problems in his own way.
And that was a mistake.
- Thanks for your time. - Not at all.
Glad to be of help.
If I can do anything else in the future, just let me know.
There's one tiny little thing.
Come on! My arthritic old mum could bowl faster than that.
I want the real thing.
It's been a while.
Got your message.
What the hell are you doing?
I always wanted to know what it was like to face a real first-class bowler.
This is probably the only chance I'm going to get.
- That was the slow ball, was it? - Sure you're ready for this?
Yeah. Come on!
I want to feel the heat.
If you've still got it in you.
Does that mean you're out?
Reckon so.
We now know that AJ Da Silva was unpopular within the team.
He was arrogant and selfish.
Well, a lot of people wind up their workmates.
- They don't end up dead in a bath. - But we have a theory.
I mean, there were ongoing fights within the team.
Someone comes to his hotel room, an argument gets out of hand...
And yet there's not a mark on his body.
And he was seen alive at 8pm, I've checked the original investigation.
All the alibis from that time onward are rock solid.
So what about our autograph guy, Alan Power?
I checked his record...
From 2005, he's been a busy boy.
Four restraining orders and one conviction for stalking,
all professional sportsmen.
Doesn't make him a murderer, though, does it?
Yeah, but he broke into their homes.
The only reason he got off with a caution is nobody wanted to press charges.
We know he was at the hotel.
He says he went straight home. We've only got his word for that.
Let's make him sweat and see if he knows more than he's saying.
Oh, I've got something for you.
Three pairs of tickets to the Mums And Dads do this Saturday.
I thought it'd be a great opportunity,
a team-building opportunity.
Um, actually, I won't.
Well, I've booked a table, Danny, I thought
both you and Fiona could come.
It's just our relationship's in a rather delicate phase,
I'm not sure the timing's right for this sort of commitment.
The last time I looked, it was just a party, you know,
bring your partner to meet your work colleagues, that kind of thing.
With respect, I think it's a little naive to call the Mum And Dads
"just a party".
So, how would you describe it?
- Paintballing with vomit? - Terrible food. - Warm white wine.
- Or chilled red, if you choose. - And then, there's the acts. - Yeah.
- Sir Methane. - Sir Methane? - Mm.
He performed renditions of popular songs using intestinal gas.
- Up to and including God Save The Queen. - I hope you all stood up.
- Why is it called the Mum And Dads do, anyway? - I don't know.
It's more of a don't than a do. It's cursed.
What do you mean it's cursed?
Look, everyone knows, if you take your other half along to that dance,
you may as well call your lawyer.
The Mums And Dads has broken up more relationships
than unexplained chlamydia.
Here's my decision.
Cursed, or not cursed, we are going, all of us.
And we are going to enjoy it. And that is a direct order.
Madge and Ben Tanner, the Cavendishes,
Barry Edwards, all broke up.
- Because of the curse? - Exactly.
Not even this is going to help,
and this is the only reason I'm still here.
I'm sorry, this is like I've fallen asleep and woken up in 1947,
a cigarette case? You don't even smoke.
Neither did my grandad or my dad.
That has been a good luck charm for three generations of my family,
right through two world wars
and finally saving my life on the streets of Brixton.
I'm no ballistics expert, but that suggests to me that
the bullet went right through.
Yeah, but it would have been much worse without it.
Didn't it puncture your lung and leave you in intensive care?
I don't think you're getting the bigger picture here, boss.
Look, Ted. I get that you don't want to go, and that's fine,
but you should know that losing Gerry was a big deal.
I know that we don't talk about it because, hey,
that's not how we do things around here.
But that could have been the beginning of the end for us,
the perfect excuse to call time on this unit.
- Surely the record speaks for itself? - Oh, you think so?
We're the awkward squad, Ted.
Do you know that Strickland has to fight for us every single day?
Look, I booked us a table because I wanted us
to feel like a real team, maybe even a family.
Dysfunctional, obviously, but still a family,
and I was hoping that you and Pat might be a part of that.
Curse or no curse.
I could be ill. You could be ill.
We could pretend to get a dog and then say that was ill.
Basically, all I'm saying is we don't have to go.
No, we don't have to, but I want to, Danny.
This is what we're talking about --
being part of each other's lives, going to each other's dreadful
work dos and then laughing about it afterwards. And I like to dance.
- I love to dance. - I had no idea.
East of England Junior Ballroom Champion, 1986.
My waltz was highly commended.
You know this is going to keep happening.
Things about me you don't know. Like the sex change.
Yeah, but you can barely tell.
Apart from the prominent Adam's apple.
- I'm surprised you didn't get that fixed. - Ha-ha-ha.
- So, how did it go today? - Sorry? - Sarah.
You said you were going to see her. How was it?
Do you know, she was fine about it, took it really well.
- What, just like that? - Yep, just like that. Sends her best.
Oh, that looks delicious.
We've got a convicted stalker in the hotel who was the last
person to see AJ Da Silva alive. He's got to be a suspect.
Yeah, but AJ argued with his captain and his coach.
The rest of the team hated him because he slept with Laura Collins.
It seemed that everyone who knew him harboured a grudge.
Not to mention the brother.
We know he was AJ's first port of call when things went wrong.
All the time the father thinks the sun shines out of AJ's proverbial.
Maybe Sanjeev got sick of clearing up after his brother
and just snapped.
So, we've got motives coming out of our ears
but we still don't know how he died,
we've got no injury or... signs of...
Phew!.. restraint bruises.
And of course you can't choke somebody to death without
- leaving a mark. - I agree.
If we could just work out why, we could understand what happened.
Steve and I will go and visit Power again. You two, press Sanjeev.
Find out what he really thought of his brother.
So, Nathan, point, high arm, point, all right?
OK, let's go, lads.
Well done.
Having an ex-professional on the staff
goes down well with the new parents.
I'm even in the prospectus.
You must miss it, though, playing the game?
Not really. The kids are great.
Mostly. After what happened to AJ, I needed to get away.
After he died I couldn't function, let alone play.
The club had connections with the school, offered me a job.
I was grateful.
Truth is, I was never good enough.
Finally admitting that was actually a relief.
Get on with the rest of my life.
Why didn't you tell us about your brother's affair with Laura Collins?
AJ made a mistake. I didn't see it as important.
And my father has no idea about AJ's... proclivities.
I want to keep it that way.
The rest of the team blamed your brother for Peter Collins's death,
didn't they?
Can we talk about this inside?
AJ was never popular, but this was different.
I couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. As if I could fix this.
Did he call on you a lot to fix things?
All he cared about was cricket.
When he wasn't playing, nothing else mattered.
I suppose he got bored, needed a distraction. Drink. Girls.
And you cleared up the mess.
This was in a different league.
- And then the messages started. - What messages?
E-mails, texts, once had a note pinned to his coffin.
Always anonymous, physical threats, abuse, anything you can think of.
- Even racial things. - So, why didn't you go to the police?
Because AJ knew who was sending them, didn't he?
- After he ended it, she just went crazy. - Laura Collins?
Kept trying to contact him, just making things worse.
I begged him to leave the club, he told me had it all under control.
I know it sounds crazy, but I think... he actually liked it.
It motivated him, you know, the hatred.
The more they abused him, the better he played.
Do you think anybody hated him enough to have murdered him?
He called me the night he died.
He needed to see me urgently, something had happened,
something bad. I knew from his voice there was something really wrong.
But...
But it had all happened so many times.
I told him I'd see him in the morning.
And... I never got the chance.
You believe he had something on his mind, something serious?
I believe he needed to talk to me, a cry for help. I ignored him.
Then he killed himself.
And you're absolutely convinced that's how he died?
My brother carried my father's hopes and dreams with him for 20 years.
I believe that night it all finally got too much.
He reached out, for me, I wasn't there...
And now I have to live with that.
What did you make of him?
Eccentric, mostly harmless. Type who lives with his mum.
The state of this place, she's probably buried in there somewhere.
Mr Power, it's the police!
- Shit. - Stand back. - Hey.
Sasha. We need to call this in.
You're wasting your time, the place is like Fort Knox.
- Give us a leg up. - This is a bad idea.
Get down!
For God's sake!
Unconscious, burns to the hands and feet. Significant smoke inhalation.
The place is full of paper, accident waiting to happen.
Yeah, or maybe someone was trying to shut him up,
maybe he knew something.
Maybe. Oh, by the way, boss,
that stunt with the window was pretty damn stupid.
You don't have to prove anything to anybody, you know? Least of all me.
- Do you buy it? - Well, it's possible.
Cricket has an unusually high suicide rate amongst professional sports
but, psychologically speaking, it doesn't seem to fit any profile.
Everything we've learned about AJ suggests a rampant ego
out of control.
Leaving a trail of destruction in its wake, which means pretty much
anyone on the team might have felt they had a motive.
For some it might have been more personal than others.
Ryan Reed and Peter Collins went to the same prep school together.
In fact, they were childhood friends until they left in 1997.
So, AJ sleeps with Peter Collins's missus, right?
And he's Reed's best friend.
Then, two months later,
Collins takes a walk off the top of a building.
Now, is that motive enough for Reed to kill AJ? Doughnut?
Don't worry, she's out, she's out, she's chasing up forensics on our stalker friend.
Handmade by Parisian artisans.
- You're spoiling us, Mr Ambassador! - Indeed.
Don't worry, it didn't cost a penny. It's called freecycling.
Got it from one of those websites you suggested.
I mean, you've no idea how much perfectly edible food they're throwing away every day.
- You mean this is... - It's straight out of the bakery bins.
It's unbelievable, they're literally chucking this stuff away.
Forensics from Powers' flat are back.
- What? - Nothing, something I ate.
Traces of accelerant all over the front door.
- Someone squirted acetone through the letterbox. - Acetone?
Nail polish remover. You can get it from any supermarket.
Yeah, probably from those, those bins.
- Or you're someone who uses it every day. - Laura Collins?
- Where were you this morning between 7am and 9am? - Here.
Is there anyone that can confirm that?
I live alone, why?
Because I'm arresting you on suspicion of attempted murder.
Just another 860 steps today and I've got my quota.
Might have to go round the block.
Can I ask you something?
I wish you would, you've been building up to it for the last 20 minutes.
Your right eyebrow twitches. Never play poker.
- Did you ever lie to your wife when you were married? - All the time.
- And you were comfortable with that? - Well, it depends. - On what?
Well, there's the big lie, the, "Are you sleeping with my sister?" lie.
- Did you? - No, I married a good looking one. Probably my mistake.
- Then there's the little white lie. - Such as?
"Does my bum look big in this?" "Is this skirt too young for me?"
- And they're... all right, are they? - I'd say they're essential!
What if you can't tell which is which?
Look, nobody said this stuff is easy.
But maybe you shouldn't be taking advice from the broke, divorced guy.
Fiona and I are taking the next step.
- There's even talk of a place together in York Road. - Serious stuff. - Quite.
But I promised Fiona I'd tell Sarah all about us.
I am still married to her, despite the... situation.
- How well's she taken it? - I've no idea.
Sarah's condition is neuropathological.
Any emotional conversation can disrupt her.
Even with her new medication, it could put her back months, even years.
Well, maybe the little white lie.
Don't tell Sarah but let Fiona think you have.
It does seem to be the most logical answer.
- You've got the wee voice, haven't you? - The wee voice?
The one that won't shut up
when you're about to stuff everything up big time.
Yes, perhaps.
Well, you know what they say about advice.
A fool won't take it and wise man doesn't need it.
I've always had you pegged as a very wise man, Danny.
This is the place.
Well, somebody's been switching their utilities.
I don't see that it's at all relevant.
AJ slept with your best friend's wife and then your best friend,
- Peter, committed suicide. - Which makes you our new prime suspect.
Congratulations.
And I did this how, exactly?
You've got nothing, have you?
This is just some pathetic attempt to try and frighten me.
Yes, well, it hasn't worked. I'd like you both to leave.
Now.
Thank you.
That was the hospital. Alan Power passed away three hours ago.
We've got evidence of arson,
so the murder squad are picking up the case.
Let's push Collins. Did you speak to Reed?
Yeah, he called our bluff, too.
All we've got on him is the revenge motive, so...
Right. This is from the Intel unit.
They pulled Peter Collins's bank records.
Confirms several large lump sums entered the account between April
and August 2005.
Yeah, but Laura told us that he'd got a new contract.
Which is interesting because we know he was about to be dropped
and these amounts here certainly don't come from the club.
- No, this source comes from an Asian bank. - Exactly. - So?
Well, it all points to one thing. Spot fixing.
There. His foot's about half a yard over the line,
he's made it far too obvious.
That's the only reason he got caught.
- People bet on this stuff? - Mm.
No balls, wides, it's easy to fix.
Doesn't really affect the outcome of the game.
Some players see it as a bonus, like tipping a waiter.
So, Collins is cheating for money?
Well, the writing was on the wall as far his career,
he's got a high-maintenance wife, she'd already strayed,
- you can see the attraction. - And the rest of the team?
Well, I don't know, but I doubt if he acted alone.
So how can we prove it?
That's simple. We can't.
Well, let's face facts, shall we?
We've got a handful of motives but no cause of death.
We've got no forensics to speak of,
and all our suspects have watertight alibis for the time of death.
Even if the entire team were match fixing,
it's impossible for us to prove it.
It's a dead end, all of it. Bloody waste of time!
OK, fine.
I'm here, aren't I?
- Hello. I'm here to see Sarah Griffin. I'm her husband. - OK.
It's Mr Griffin to see Sarah.
.. Yes, OK.
Go through, Mr Griffin.
Thank you.
Hey. 1,500 steps before breakfast. Not bad, eh?
Has it stopped yet?
- Has what stopped? - The wee voice.
- I figured that's where you were going last night. - Yes.
- You were right, thank you. - Hey, no problem.
Always happy to give you the benefit of my years of marital failure.
She just keeps springing surprises on me, Fiona.
I tried to put her off going to the Mum And Dads do.
It turns out she loves dancing, she was a junior champion.
What's the problem?
And... One, two, three...
Now, Danny, will you just try and relax?
I'm tensing up because you're becoming quite rude.
I'm not becoming rude, just, just take it easy.
You're leading me, remember? Right, now... Forward on your left, OK?
And... One, two, three... One, two, three... Let's do the turn, and...
One, two, thr...
Zero!
You know what, Robert, I'm not happy with this line of inquiry.
My understanding was that you wanted this case investigated thoroughly.
Not in order to drag my family's reputation through the dirt.
Sanjeev and I gave you a full statement.
But more relevant information came to light. There's a suggestion
that some of the team may have been fixing matches.
- Ridiculous! - Do you have any evidence for this?
There were payments from unusual sources.
We're going to examine the whole team's financial records.
Do you have any witness statements?
Not yet, but we are still investigating.
You mean you have nothing! This is intolerable.
I asked you to find out what happened to AJ.
Now you're accusing my team of fixing matches.
- No-one's accusing anyone of anything. I'm sure it's just one of many lines of inquiry. - Exactly.
And it's unacceptable. I repeat. I want this stopped.
Now.
How much do we really have?
Alan Power was killed, which means someone's got something to hid.
- And your suspect, Laura Collins? - Denies everything.
I still think there's a case here. I want to see this through.
Instinct?
If you want to call it that.
You'd better be right.
So, Prem Da Silva wants us called off?
All he sees is his golden boy and his county team's reputation.
Yeah, well, with family you see what you want to see.
Say that again.
Well, AJ was the apple of his father's eye,
the boy that could do no wrong.
No, no, you said, "You see what you want to see."
But what about...
see what you expect to see?
AJ's last sighting was the only solid part of this case, yeah?
It provided alibis for all our suspects.
We had an eye witness that placed him in the lobby at exactly 8pm
and the victim even signed his own name.
It's not the same.
- It's not even close. - But Alan Power saw AJ sign the book.
No, no, two brothers, similar age, same build,
both wearing identical team kit. What if it wasn't AJ that signed this?
- What if it was Sanjeev? - Well, it's possible, but why?
- Why would I pretend to be my own brother? - Simple.
To give yourself an alibi.
AJ was already dead because you'd killed him.
You were sick of covering for him, sick of the demands,
sick of the abuse.
And all the time your father is worshipping the ground he walks on.
No, you hated him, didn't you?
That's not true, I loved my brother. I told you, he called me that night.
You told us you didn't help him.
The team were fixing matches.
Three or four players were involved. Peter Collins was one of them.
That day they approached AJ and asked him to get involved.
I think they assumed he was a sure thing.
Well, if you'll sleep with your team-mate's wife,
- what's a little fraud between friends? - But he refused?
Point blank. Wanted nothing to do with it, told them he was going to go to the authorities.
- My brother loved the game. - And that's why he called you?
He was going to go to the press, to the county. I told him not to.
The next day he was dead.
Who else was involved?
I don't know, a few players.
I don't think they had a lot of choice,
not when the skipper gave the orders.
Ryan Reed.
So you think it was Reed who signed the book, not Sanjeev?
Well, it's possible. Sanjeev was right next to him.
All Reed had to do was add AJ's name.
That would mean it was Reed who wanted to create the alibi
- and not Sanjeev. - OK, let's run with it.
We assume our new timeline is correct --
that alters the recorded time of death.
No, no, we're missing something here. AJ Da Silva was an athlete.
How do you murder somebody like that without leaving any trace,
any signs of restraint?
Well, there wouldn't be, would there?
Not if we're in the delicate hands of an expert.
It was Ryan's idea -- revenge.
He told me to call AJ and arrange to meet him in his room.
'I phoned him and told him I wanted just one last time with him.'
'And that's when you tied him up.'
'I knew what he liked. A lot of big egos like that kind of thing.'
Cabinet ministers, even police officers.
And so the skill is in not leaving any marks.
Soft restraints available online.
That way, wives and girlfriends never find out
what their naughty boy's been up to?
And you just left him like that?
That was what we agreed.
'It was all going to plan, he was tied up and he was loving it.'
'I called Ryan as soon as I left.
'The others were supposed to come in and find him,
'take pictures, that kind of thing.
'Look, I wanted to humiliate him.
'When I left, he was still alive.'
I didn't mean to kill him.
When they found him the next day,
only Ryan knew what had really happened.
- So, to confirm, you spoke to Ryan Reed? - He knew it was an accident.
He promised me he'd keep quiet.
He's not going to get into trouble, is he?
It's a great theory. Really imaginative.
There's only one problem.
It's not true.
Peter Collins killed himself because there was no other way out.
You destroyed the game he loved.
But AJ Da Silva was tougher, wasn't he?
He was about to blow your spot fixing ring wide open.
You needed to silence him, and fast. AJ died of asphyxiation.
He was helpless.
You used a pillow so there wasn't a mark on him
but you told Laura Collins that you'd found him like that
and that she'd been responsible for his death. Guaranteed her silence.
As far as she was concerned, it was all a horrible accident.
But you wanted an insurance policy just in case she talked.
A rock solid alibi.
KP. Kevin! Kevin!
Amazing. And you don't have a shred of evidence.
Apart from the handwriting analysis that proves that you faked AJ's signature.
So I faked a signature for a fan -- it's hardly a crime, is it?
True. There's no way we can convict you of AJ Da Silva's murder,
whether it's true or not, not enough evidence.
You drive a red Lexus, don't you?
Registration X667 LBW?
Strange that that same car was spotted on CCTV next to
Alan Power's flat yesterday morning.
Sure you had good reason to be in Peckham.
And that the fire that killed him was started 20 minutes later.
- He's dead? - Trapped inside. Smoke inhalation.
And the evidence you tried to destroy was in our hands the entire time.
Now, if we were to impound that car,
and test it for the acetone accelerant...
Where's my car?
Don't worry, if it's not true, I'm sure everything will be fine.
Boss, you all right?
You all right?
Ryan Reed, I am arresting you on the suspicion of the murder
of AJ Da Silva. You don't have to say anything....
I phoned ahead.
Brains.
Beats the other thing every time.
What I don't understand is why move the body?
If you murder somebody you hated, why not let them be found like that?
Complete the humiliation.
'After he called, I couldn't sleep so I went to see him.
'I found him tied up. I couldn't let him be found like that.
- So you protected him? - He was my brother.
A lot of people didn't like him,
but he deserved a little dignity.
Do we go now?
I think you're next in.
Thank you.
Straight bat!
I think he knows that.
Press it three times and you get the lap time
- and the split time comes after that. - No sign of Ted?
Er, no. He told me he was coming, though.
OK, well, I'll do this now anyway. Three exemptions.
From the fitness test.
- Ah, yes. - Strickland got his tie so I asked him to pull a string or two.
- You can ditch the pedometers. - Oh, yes! - Thank you.
This calls for a celebration. Oh, hey! Drink, anybody? Cheers!
Steve!
- Um, would you like to dance? - Yes. I'd love to.
Sorry I'm late. Um...
Everyone, this is Pat. Pat, this is everyone.
Can I get... anyone a drink?
No, thank you.
- Hi, I'm Sasha Miller. It's lovely to finally meet you, Pat. - Hi.
- You didn't tell them, did you? - They didn't ask.
I told you not to do this again.
I can't believe he's done this again, I'm sorry.
Let me get a round in.
- No, I'm... - Oh, I'll have a single malt. Double.
- Yeah, that sounds good. - You can get your own.
- Mm, not bad. - You should see my foxtrot. - I'll hold you to that.
I'm glad you finally told Sarah. I really want to make this work.
- Me too. And we will, I promise. - I'll hold you to that.
- Well, no farting men so far. All very civilised. - The night is young.
Would you mind if we don't talk? Gets in the way of the counting.
Those two are thick as thieves already.
Yeah, probably the bloody Arsenal again.
I refuse to have the Wenger conversation at home.
Either that or I need to watch my back.
You never know who's in the closet these days.
- Thank you. - What for?
For sharing your life with us.
Well, you're right, families need to stick together,
even dysfunctional ones.
So, how did you two meet?
Look, if we're going to do this,
we'll have to have some ground rules, all right?
Number one, I'd rather take another bullet than do the gay best friend thing,
and number two, I have no special insight
into the human condition, and number three,
more important than all of them, I do not understand men.
No, neither do I.
Believe me, no-one does. Even Arsene Wenger.
I'll drink to that.
Whoever Arsene Wenger is.
♪ It's all right It's OK
♪ Doesn't really matter if you're old and grey
♪ It's all right I say it's OK
♪ Listen to what I say
♪ It's all right Doing fine
♪ Doesn't really matter if the sun don't shine
♪ It's all right I say it's OK
♪ We're getting to the end of the day. ♪