Colin Raimes? Open the door, please! Police!
Mr Raimes, we have a warrant to search the house
and remove property in compliance with the Criminal Evidence Act.
Smack his face in!
This is gonna look very bad on your arrest report, Colin.
Interview commenced at 11:19 a.m.
The suspect will state his name.
Colin Raimes.
Also present are the suspect's lawyer...
psychiatrist and social worker.
Look at these photos, Colin.
Lauren Chester.
Murdered in November last year.
Kidnapped, no sexual assault...
starved and held for 30 hours.
Strangled with bootlace.
- You're upsetting him. - Bettina Mitchell.
Attacked last Saturday.
You said: "Fight me and you will end up like Lauren."
This is the ID picture that Bettina gave us.
This... is your diary.
We found it in your room.
From the diary, quote:
"I killed her. She's been killed. I'm a killer, an ace killer."
That particular entry is not awash with ambiguity.
Dated November 4th.
The day after the murder.
Colin's a first-rate fantasist.
So let's talk about the night of the abduction, Colin.
November 2nd.
Hold on. November 2nd?
That's correct.
He was at our drop-in centre.
Some kids had thrown fireworks at him. He was distressed.
We brought him to the centre.
I think we're done.
Colin Raimes.
Colin Raimes isn't our man.
We'll go back to our best lead.
The fibres found underneath the fingernails of the victim.
Definitely synthetic.
I think there's more to be had from Raimes.
Let's lean on him.
What, and be sued for harassment of a schizophrenic?
He's a fantasist. It's in his psych evaluation...
Screw his psych evaluation!
You used to believe in gut feeling. What happened?
Nothing.
Sam, what is going on in there?
Look, I can't think about this now. Ok?
I'm gonna stand you down from the case, Maya.
It's not productive, given our personal problems.
Look, forget about us.
I have a theory about Raimes. About why he kept a diary.
I've made my mind up...
Don't you wanna know what I'm thinking? My feeling is...
Look around you. What use are feelings in this room?
Maya.
Why are you shutting me out?
What are you doing?
I'm following my feeling, Sam.
I think there's more to Raimes.
I think he's trying to impress someone.
What if he knows the killer?
Hang on. If social services find out...
Where are you, Maya?
I'm tailing Raimes.
You're breaking up.
Someone's there.
Raimes is heading up toward Satchmore Road. I'm gonna go and...
Maya, no. Listen, I'll send back-up.
- Ah! - Maya!
Preserve the scene, call in SOCO please.
Whoever the killer is, he's taken her.
Charge to 200 Joules.
Stand clear.
Where are you?
What happened?
Did you not see the signs?
Do you remember what happened, Sir?
Sir, can you tell me what happened?
This...
This is not my car. I was...
I was driving a Jeep.
You were driving a military vehicle?
Hang on.
What's going on?
It says here you on transfer from C Division in Hyde.
Detective Inspector.
I'm a DCI.
What the hell are you?
I need my mobile.
Your mobile what?
Phone!
860 to Alpha... Hang on Sir, come back.
860... Sir, come back!
I'll call you back.
DC Chris Skelton.
Plod's bringing in your stuff.
One of the girls will sort out your RTA.
Don't sweat it if you've had a couple of stiff ones.
Blimey, you look like you've taken ten rounds with Big Henry.
Someone needs to take a look at you, boss.
You're as white as a ginger bird's arse.
There's that nice little plonk on the next floor. Cartwright.
- Oh aye. She can kiss it better. - Shut up.
I don't know who the hell you lot think you are...
But this is my office.
Here.
This is a door, right here.
And my desk is here.
Where's my desk?
Chair?
- PC terminal? - Who?
You want a constable up here?
What the bloody hell is going on here?
This is my department!
What have you done with it?
Keep it down, boss.
Too late.
Ok.
Alright.
Surprise me.
What year is it supposed to be?
Word in your shell-like, pal.
Big mistake.
Yeah?
What about this?
They reckon you got concussion.
I couldn't give a tart's furry cup if half your brains are falling out.
Don't ever waltz into my kingdom acting king of the jungle.
- Who the hell are you? - Gene Hunt, your DCI, and it's 1973.
Almost dinner time. I'm havin' 'oops.
It's funny.
I could have sworn I left it here. Remember.
Lock your car. Check the doors, the windows, the boot.
And please, take the keys with you.
Watch out, there's a thief about there.
Operator?
What?
- Operator. - No, I want a mobile number.
- What? - A mobile number.
0770-813...
Is that an international number?
No.
I need you to connect me to a Virgin number.
Virgin Mobile...
Don't you start that sexy business with me, young man.
I can trace this call.
Let's get a second line in.
It's an emergency and cross-match blood down.
He's slipping into unconsciousness. Sam?
Can you hear me? Sam?
Just had a shout.
That bird who went missing a couple of days ago?
She's only been done in down Satchmore Road.
Satchmore? That's where Maya...
- Susie Tripper? - Yeah.
Wrung her neck like a Christmas turkey.
Right.
I've gotta get down the pub and give the papers a statement.
if I don't get a move on, they'll all be half-cut.
So, you're a senior officer, you're in charge.
Boss?
Shall we start?
Susie'd been dead for a couple of hours when she was found.
No sign of sexual assault.
This is what she had on her.
Bloody hell.
So, then, boss?
Anything you wanna...?
Right. Yeah, uh...
Have you...
visited the... the crime scene?
What, where she was found?
Yeah, where she was found.
Have you... preserved the crime scene?
Body's on the slab.
Body should have been dusted for prints on site.
How the hell are you gonna get dabs off skin?
You're so right. How can you?
What's the matter with me?
We did take some prints off a... a shoe, I think it was.
They've been sent down to Scotland Yard,
so we should hear back in a fortnight or so,
if there's a match.
A fortnight?
Motive doesn't seem to be robbery.
There's 27p in her purse, plus a couple of green shields.
Well, he might have taken the notes.
I mean, who's gonna take 27p?
Well, I would.
After pub closing time,
she stayed in the car park with a couple of fellas, but that's cool.
Cool, is it? Why?
Well, we know 'em. Loaders from canal wharf. They're alright.
Now she was in the car park,
and she was giving them Downhill Racer...
So you're not gonna take statements?
It's not them, boss.
Wake up.
He didn't shag her. He didn't rob her.
So what's the motive?
Garrotted with a... thin cord.
No other attack marks,
nothing in or around the mouth.
What have you learnt from the stomach contents?
Well, er...
Chris, have a look.
In the file,
in the post-mortem file.
She wasn't fed for at least a day before she was killed.
And she was found in Satchmore Road.
Come on!
Enough! Come on!
Stop it now! Enough!
Stop! End! Finish! Come on!
Okay!
Walls wet, er...
I can smell the preserving agent,
soap in the tray, er...
Ham sandwich, half-eaten...
I can hear somebody whistling outside.
You need to get some rest, boss.
You just need a large Scotch and a bit of a kip.
It's him.
He's killed before.
We'll er... get a plonk to give you the once over.
No broken bones then.
Do you feel like you're gonna heave up?
I feel a bit nauseous.
You'll do. You've had hangovers worse.
Are you a doctor?
I'm about as qualified as Doctor Kildare.
I'm part of the Women's Department.
- The what? - Don't you have plonks in Hyde?
Go on, sir. Off you jolly well trot.
What now?
What's your name?
- WPC Cartwright. - No, first name.
Annie.
I was four in 1973, Annie.
Hit me.
Don't tempt me.
Go on.
- You've been in an accident. - Hit me.
- Shit! - I'm sorry, sir.
Hey, good girl. Prostate probe and no jelly.
Why don't you call it a day, Tyler? Chris'll drive you to your place.
- My... place? - Yeah, they gave us an address.
Unless, of course, you're...
getting a bit of a taste for it in here, hmm?
This guy kills,
then, what, he waits another thirty years?
Is that why I'm here, because that's when he first struck?
Does that make sense?
Yeah. Loads of sense.
Maya thought that Raimes knew the killer.
Colin Raimes! No, no, he'd still be in nappies.
I can take him home.
Take him. He's yours.
This is Neil.
Sam.
Can you hear me?
Sam?
What?
Do you want me to take you home?
Help me.
This is it.
Oh my God.
It's not so bad, is it?
Mr Enoch Powell has called for an increase in taxation
to deal with inflation.
Mr Powell called for an autumn budget...
I'm not mad. I'm not.
I had an accident.
And I woke up 33 years in the past.
Now, that either makes me...
a time-traveller or... a lunatic,
or...
I'm lying in a hospital bed in 2006 and none of this is real.
33 years in the future?
That's where you're saying you're from?
See, Maya - that's my girlfriend -
she's been kidnapped by the same killer
who strangled Susie Tripper yesterday.
I think you should go to a hospital and ask them to check you for concussion.
He'll hold her for a day, and then...
Don't you see? It's the same killer in both times.
Paranoid delusion, brought about by the accident.
It's not concussion. It's psychological.
Pretty fancy words for a WPC.
I studied psychology at university.
I'm just saying, I think it's a medical thing
and you should sign off sick and see somebody.
What if you're my mind telling me this is real?
You'll have to work this one out on your own.
Thanks.
You know, for...
listening to what I had to say and then not calling the men in the white coats.
DI Tyler,
you don't seem like the rest of them,
and you're clever enough to know that what you're saying can't be true.
Yes, it's beating.
- I have to go. - Where?
What do you care? I'm not real.
As soon as I walk out that door, poof, I'm gone.
Here I go.
Ready, steady...
Get some rest.
In module 3, we noted that the collective pythagorian angles
embedded in our X-to-N ratio could be derived from the simple numenary "A"
as the constant 10 and depicted thus.
But what concerns us most is regulating his breathing.
That is why we have to keep the endotrachial tube in place.
I have to stress to you that Sam is in low responsiveness,
but is not in a persistant vegetative state.
although he has suffered a severe cranial trauma.
But the Glasgow scale does put him at a deep level of coma.
Hey!
You're talking about me!
I'm here, I can hear you, look at me, I'm here!
At times, however, he moves. Murmurs.
Has motor response as though caught up in some sort of...
deep REM sleep from which he cannot wake.
Well, this gives us some hope, despite the brain-stem bruising.
Hey! I'm here!
Look at me, does this look like low responsiveness to you?! I'm here!
Sam?
- I can hear you, I can hear you! - Sam Tyler?
Wait! No!
Wait, don't leave me, I'm in BUPA!
Please don't leave me!
No, please, I'm here!
Don't leave me here!
Please don't leave me!
Bloody hell, I've seen road accidents more cheerful.
Where are you today, here or planet of the Clangers?
Didn't know if you were gonna show, boss.
Where else could I go?
Well, we're honoured.
Right, we've pulled a bird in, Dora Keynes.
She was the last person to see the victim alive.
- Is she a suspect? - No, just a pain in the arse.
OK. Alright.
Brief me in full.
- What do I need to know? - She's a pain in the arse.
What, so you've handed her in to Lost Property?
Well, we could use the canteen, but she's a right mouthy bird, this one.
Hang on.
You're gonna do the interview in there?
Thick walls.
Okay.
You had a drink with Susie the night she died, didn't you, Dora?
I know you. From the picket line.
You put the boot into my old man.
- Oh, happy days. - Sod off.
Can't, love.
This is my esteemed colleague, DI Tyler.
Hi, Dora.
- I want you to call me Sam. - You really a copper?
Possibly.
When was the last time you saw Susie?
In me dreams.
How did she seem, that night?
Did she - did she mention meeting anyone?
She was horny.
Did she get into an argument with a... stranger?
You know the answer.
It's blowing in the wind.
I'm done with this game. Let's play another.
Let's play hopscotch or pin the tail on the donkey. You pick, Dora.
I want a lawyer.
I wanna hump Britt Ekland. What are we gonna do?
Your dad's waiting to take you home.
What the hell did you do to her?
Well, you know. The usual.
Then banged her up for obstruction. Kids, eh?
Where I come from, you'd be looking at suspension.
Really? What, for making a breakthrough?
At 11:20, she saw Susie Tripper heading away from the pub,
followed by a tall bloke with long hair.
The hair under those nails is not human, it's synthetic.
Yeah. Chris told me what happened in the mortuary.
I need a drink.
That's the first sensible thing you've said since you got here.
Haven't uniform got their own boozer?
You have to rubber-eel mine?
Ah, DCI Hunt.
Mon brave.
You catching flies, brudder?
Which part of my subconscious do you hail from?
I like you.
Nelson's a good bloke.
- What're your poisons? - Tan and bitter. Sam?
Diet Coke.
I'm just joking. Pint of bitter.
Give it up then.
Alright.
The man you're looking for
is either wearing thick gloves of some sort,
or he's using... a bag, or something,
made of coarse material, gets under the nails.
You can't know that from one stiff.
I've seen another. Look, I'm telling you...
What does it matter anyway?
None of this is real!
You're just some thug...
who crawled out of some dark little pit in the back of my mind.
Then report me.
See you, Gene.
Give my regards to the id.
Alright! Right now! Let it be now! Come on!
You're new.
And you've got something big crammed up your jacksie,
but don't worry, you'll learn.
I may be the sheriff,
but I'm a deputy to the law. Now, I don't care...
if you want to take a swing for me if it makes you feel good,
but what I do ask is that you don't hide anything from me.
So, have you got a hunch about this case?
With what I know, I could find this killer.
Prove it.
Look for these leads cropping up in any box in the room..
Priority.
Priority. Will call.
So where did you get these names from?
Call it inspiration.
To predict what this killer might do next,
we have to understand what he's thinking and feeling.
Annie?
You're familiar with this case, aren't you?
Yes, sir.
Could you help us out here, please?
WPC Cartwright has a BA in psychology.
Now the victim wasn't gagged.
Why didn't he gag her, Annie?
Forget the mind-reading act.
Let's get down to the strip-tease.
Because he needed to...
He needed to see a mouth.
The lips.
We have to see the things that we value.
Now put yourselves in the mind of this man.
You're lonely.
Every night, you dream of this girl...
and she's got big eyes, and red, ruby lips.
So you go out and you find that girl,
and you bring her home.
But you don't gag her,
'cause you want to see those ruby lips.
But you just can't bring yourself to kiss 'em.
You get embarrassed.
Angry.
You'd start to blame the girl.
It's her fault.
She's taunting him just by being there.
And then one day, you just snap.
Strangle her, using bootlace,
and then the cycle starts all over again, with a different girl.
And this time,
you're positive you're gonna be brave enough to kiss her.
Only you won't be.
I look at your lips all the time, Cartwright.
D'you think I should turn myself in?
I think you'd better trot along now, sweetheart,
before I have to hose this lot down.
Yes, sir.
Thank you.
How would he keep her quiet without gagging her?
I don't know.
Alright.
Maybe this nutter moved to the area recently.
Maybe he's on day release from the loony bin.
Maybe there's a new face in the local boozers.
Let's find out. Let's not wait for another skirt to wind up dead.
And let's just hope we haven't been led up a blind alley.
Sorry sir, I've checked and there's no Maya Roy listed in that area.
Then try the number again.
I have no Maya Roy listed.
Well, just try again!
- There's no need... - Forget it.
Large whisky, please.
Drink ain't gonna fix things.
What am I saying?
I run a pub!
Of course it'll fix things!
I'm lost, Nelson.
Really lost.
You're not lost, pal.
You're where you are.
And you have to make the best of it.
It's all you can do.
Keep it to yourself, eh?
Folks just seem happier with the other Nelson.
Good luck.
Look at this. These are my notes from the real world.
I made them last night.
Films. Music. Wars.
Just check out the detail.
Don't tell me. Atom bombs over Moscow.
Discussing psychology with your little friend?
I want Chris out of the collators den. It's a waste of flipping time.
No it isn't.
Sorry, did that sound like a question?
- I can find this killer. - Do you know what?
I think you're trying to show me up.
You don't scare me, Hunt.
It's an interesting point you raise. Allow me to retort.
Better?
Where are you going?
I can't deal with this place.
So you're just giving up?
Look...
Somewhere out there, Maya needs me.
My mind can only invent so much detail, you know,
so I'm gonna walk until I can't think up any more faces,
or streets.
I mean, this is just...
Just what?
This is madness.
I've got a nephew,
and he fell off a pier,
and he couldn't remember the name of things.
Couldn't tell you what an apple was, or a pencil.
And you know what?
He stopped believing in them.
Then he got better.
And everything seemed real again.
Follow the yellow brick road.
And what will you find?
Mist? A big cliff?
White door?
I don't know.
I used to come here!
I bought my first...
Gary Numan. Cars.
I'm gonna call DCI Hunt.
What's he gonna do?
Throw me down the stairs?
Say I walked into a door?
He don't want me around, and he doesn't need me.
And I certainly don't need him.
Sam?
What are you doing?
He doesn't gag 'em.
He doesn't gag 'em 'cause he wants to kiss 'em, but if they shout out,
he's gonna get caught, in't'e, so what's he gonna do?
Strands of material underneath their nails...
and on their skin.
But it's not wool.
It's rough. Synthetic.
I know where the fibres come from.
Soundproofing!
He's trying to muffle the room to hide the cries.
Dora Keynes' coat was found on rough ground, what, an hour ago?
Yes, guv.
Sleeve was torn.
She was last seen shouting at some bloke loitering in the street, about 9:40 p.m.
So, stuff the collators office, we need to get out on the street
because by your reckoning, we only have a day to find her.
Anything happens to this motor
and I come over your houses and stamp on all your toys, got it?
Good kids.
Hello, love. CID.
We're looking for this woman, Dora Keynes.
Approximately 5'2'', curly brown hair, hazel eyes, fake topaz necklace.
We're looking for a short skinny bird, wears a big coat, lots of gob.
Excellent work, ladies and gentlemen.
Hunt. What?
I need to speak... Tyler... told me to let him know... name from his list.
Chris, move about a bit.
Tell DI Tyler we've found one of his names in the collators office.
We've found one!
It's one of the names you asked me to find. Raimes.
I only found the carbon.
It's a statement she made three months ago.
Woman in her fifties. Mrs Raimes.
Beryl Raimes.
You gave the name Colin Raimes, so I thought there was a connection.
Yeah, she's his grandmother.
Oh, that's lovely. What nice boys you are.
Do you want a custard cream, Mrs Raimes?
- Ooh, ta. - Mrs Raimes.
You made a complaint to the police, about three months ago?
I saw a lady policeman. Nice girl.
No life for them, is it?
You came to complain about a neighbour.
That's why we have a statement from you on file.
The only trouble is, we don't know who it was,
or what it was about because our copy got smudged.
- Have you got Garibaldis? - Chris, Garibaldis!
It's only three months ago, Mrs Raimes. Think back. Please. Think hard.
I forget stuff.
Mrs Raimes, it's very important. It could be vital that you remember
exactly why you came to see us three months ago.
Was it a next-door neighbour who you were worried about,
or somebody in your street, somebody visiting,
someone upset you. They did something bad,
or selfish, or dangerous.
Please, come on, think.
Pink wafers.
I love pink wafers.
You know, all of those packets of wafers you get at Christmas.
Ooh, they are lovely.
- Expensive, mind. - They are, aren't they?
I sometimes get them in for my grandson.
I bet that takes a bite out the housekeeping, eh?
Chris, run down the canteen, see if we've got any pink wafers.
Now, guv?
Hang on. Sorry, is this helping?
- Do you want another cuppa? - Grand.
Don't you go worrying yourself about this neighbour business.
It's not important at all. Sugar, love?
The lad next door. Number twenty.
Oh yeah? What about him, my love?
Oh, he's playing his record player all night.
Bash! Crash! Bam! And he's not even local.
So that's why you came to see us.
To complain about the noise from his stereo.
It did the trick, pet. He still lives there,
but you can't hear a thing now.
Back-up to 20 Kemmel Road, now!
The suspect is an Edward Kramer.
We may need uniformed back-up, have you got that?!
You will tread carefully.
We don't even have a warrant yet.
Pipe lagging.
- Kramer! Police! - Whoa, what you doing?
Dora? Dora?
Dora, it's alright, it's police.
We're the police. It's okay, love, we've got you.
Kramer, come here!
Get inside, Colin.
That's Raimes' house.
Maya was right. He knew the killer.
We were one house away.
Kramer'll never go to trial. You know that, don't you?
- He's certifiable. - Nah.
Jury'll send that creature down forever.
This is a doctor's report. We found it in the house.
It says he is "seriously disturbed".
He's going to a high-security hospital.
What, and be mollycoddled, indulged, be a good boy,
he'll be out in twenty years. He'll still only be forty odd.
You know as well as I do, he'll kill again.
Hang on.
Oh my God.
That's why he doesn't kill for so long.
We put him away in hospital, he gets out in 30 years,
and then he kills.
And then he kidnaps Maya.
What are you on about? Forget the bloody doctor's note.
If the jury know they're trying a cold-blooded killer, it's life.
Look, listen, you told me you were a deputy to the law.
The law is putting bad people away and you wanna show a court that note?
Fine. You got principles.
Hang on.
What, you want another pop at me?
You wanna get me suspended? If you like, you can try your hand.
And as for this note, I'm making it your call.
Welcome to the team.
Thanks, Guv.
I'll get the lights, love.
Are you okay, sir?
Sam.
Can you hear me?
My name is Neil. I'm a hypnotherapist.
I'm speaking directly to your subconscious.
At this moment, I'm sitting beside you in your bed,
in the IC ward of St James's Hospital.
If I am reaching you...
and you can hear me, then I know that you can wake up.
I can hear you.
I'm in a coma, yeah?
You can help me.
Whatever you may be experiencing isn't real, Sam.
You can escape.
You only need to take that definitive step.
Do as I tell you
and you will be waking up with your family and friends around you.
Your mobile hasn't stopped ringing.
Maya is here.
- Maya. - She's safe.
If you can hear me, I know that will give you strength.
I'm coming back.
You tell her.
I'm coming back.
Sam?
Come away from the edge.
It's okay. I know the answer.
I'm in a coma.
I'm gonna take the definitive step I need to wake up.
Neil's my ex.
He did psychology with me.
I told him all about you.
He read all those notes you made.
There was nothing in those notes about a mobile phone.
What?
This is just my mind, trying to keep me here.
He's just playing games with you.
Look down. Carefully!
Please don't jump!
Sorry! I'm sorry! Bad joke!
Please, no, Sam, don't do it!
What you doing?!
We all feel like jumping sometimes, Sam.
Only we don't.
Me and you, because we're not cowards.
This is just my mind.
Maybe you're here for a reason.
To make a difference.
Gimme your hand.
What's that on your hands, is that grit?
Sand.
I was running up here and I fell against the fire bucket.
See, why would I imagine that?
Why would I bother to put that kind of detail in it?
You wouldn't.
What should I do, Annie?
Stay.