New Tricks s08e02 Episode Script

Last week Peter Offord, a 43-year-old plumber, was arrested on suspicion of a robbery in Wembley but his DNA didn't match any found at the scene.
However it did show a link to a man found strangled on a Tube train, here, in March '96.
The dead man's identity has never been established.
Until now? It turns out Peter Offord was that murder victim's son.
Yeah? How did he react to that? Never knew his dad apparently, he was brought up alone by his mum.
But I don't understand.
If this fella died on the Tube then surely this is one for British Transport Police? Yeah, well, since 2002 the commissioner and the transport police chief constable confer on such cases and it's been mutually agreed that UCOS should take this one on.
What she means, it's been dumped on us.
Any scene-of-crime photos? No.
List of suspects? No scene-of-crime photos, no list of suspects and we don't even know the victim's name.
Well, what happened to him? He was strangled.
Face to face.
What sort of bloke was he? He was a vagrant.
What, a tramp?! Oh, great! The last King's Cross fire victim was a tramp, it took them Yes, because people didn't care enough.
No-one cares about this guy either but it's about time they did You see there was no scene-of-crime photos because when the body was discovered it was assumed he was just another dosser dead from drink.
The train was taken out of service and a Transport Police Inspector ordered the body removed without examining the carriage Which was cleaned up and back on the track within hours.
Thank you very much.
Thank you.
What about the post mortem? Winter.
A lot of old people had died so there was a queue.
It was two days before the pathologist examined our man and realised he'd been strangled.
Who was this Transport Police idiot? She'd only been promoted the day before.
"SHE".
No dental records? The victim had lost almost all his teeth.
He had several broken bones, badly healed, plus the liver of a 70-year-old although as it turns out, he was probably only about 50.
What about missing persons? Well, they made a public appeal but no-one came forward.
One or two tramps who used to travel the Underground were interviewed by the Murder Squad but they were deemed incoherent and unreliable.
Pissed.
Yeah, you see, that is exactly the attitude I'm talking about.
Right, the body was discovered when the train driver was changing shift.
Now, apparently tramps used to ride the Circle Line a lot as it was a great way to keep warm.
They could sit on the train all day long as it went round and round.
Not any more of course What do you mean "not any more"? Well, the Circle Line's not a circle now, is it? Since when? Since last year.
Did none of you know that? I never travel on the Tube.
Not since I retired, no.
That is appalling! Appalling? When was the last time you travelled on public transport? Anyway, I got them to locate the actual carriage which you two can check out, whilst Jack and I go and chat to the plumber.
It was here at Acton where they actually brought the train after I found the bloke.
You say you checked every carriage? Oh, yeah.
Drivers always check each carriage at the end of a shift.
Yeah? Yeah.
Well, you know, in case they find something wrong, left behind or dead.
Not that I needed to see this geezer, I could smell him halfway down the platform.
Really? Yer, blimey, didn't half pen.
I mean, I know it's an occupational hazard but this patch give off a right whiff.
Patch? Patch o' damp - tramp.
The geezer was obviously a wino but he'd sort of messed himself, you know what I'm saying? Dirty, filthy It's quite common for people to do that when they die.
Is it? My mum and dad never did.
Well, presumably they weren't strangled either? No.
No, course not.
Anyway, here is it.
Carriage 5721.
Still in use? Isn't it a bit old? Oh, yeah.
Built to last though, aren't they? Shall we go in? Just through here and it was round here where the bloke was.
Well, how come nobody saw him being murdered? Cos this was empty and because no-one in their right mind would have come in here.
Honestly, if you'd tried, you'd have turned round and gone back out.
The smell, you couldn't even stand it for five seconds.
Well, the murderer did.
Well, he must have had an iron stomach cos it turned mine right over.
I backed straight out and I didn't go near him again.
Now we don't have any photos of the dead man Well, you're lucky then.
No what I mean is, we're not quite sure how he looked.
Not well.
No, I mean, his position.
Oh, his position? Oh, I don't know it's a long time ago, mate.
I can't remember.
Well, try anyway.
Right, OK.
Um, well, I think it was sort of, er, like this.
There was shit and piss leaking down his trolleys onto the floor along Thank you! Thank you, Ken.
No, stay there, stay there.
Hold on.
I never knew him! I never knew my dad.
Yeah? You know what? I think you're making this up.
I promise you, we're not making anything up.
All we want to do is find somebody who might have murdered someone on the Tube train 15 years ago.
Look! Under "Father".
See what it says?! "Unknown"! And that's not because my dad was a tramp.
She knew who he was but she'd never say.
She didn't even want to talk about him.
Do you understand? Your mother never said anything that would give you a clue as to who your father was? Oh, what, about the dad I never had? Who buggered off before I was born, never sent us a penny and left my mum on her own to bring me up?! Take a flying guess.
Look, maybe this tramp was my dad.
But ask yourself this, what makes you think I give a damn? OK, first things first.
Why would Thank you.
Why would anyone kill a tramp in such a public place? Especially as it was only out of sight for a couple of seconds in between stations? Tramp rage? Yeah, but remember, the smell is going to stop almost anyone from getting in that carriage.
Except another tramp - i.
e.
the murderer.
Which is what the murder squad reckoned.
Or someone totally committed to killing this man.
You'd put up with the stink then.
Well, if the post mortem and Ken's memory are correct, then the deceased must have met his killer face to face.
Poor bugger.
I'll say.
You got to be some kind of psycho to strangle someone while looking them in the eye.
I don't think so.
Tramps are usually killed by being beaten or kicked to death.
To kill him this way What, you mean up close and personal? Exactly.
I think it's personal.
Which helps us how exactly? The best way probably the only way to find out who killed him is to identify him.
Great.
Back to square one then.
No all the more reason to carry on.
And actually, can we stop calling him "him" or "the victim"? Let's dignify him with a name or something.
Tom.
Dick.
Harry? Harry.
Bye-Bye.
Thanks very much.
Smashing.
Good night.
See you tomorrow.
Got any spare change? She'll only spend it on drink or drugs.
So what? Well, it's up to you.
What's your name, love? Ta-da.
Leah.
Leah.
Are you all right? Yeah, fine.
You sure? Do your parents know where you are? They don't give a shit, mate.
Got any friends? Yeah, I got friends.
Are they all same age as you? Sorry, I'm not saying this very well.
Do you have any older people as friends on the street? You must be joking.
Anyone old doing this is mad, drunk or diseased.
Me and my mates are just damaged, abused and brought up in care.
So you all lead separate lives, do you? What are you, some kind of weirdo? No, no, I'm not a weirdo, it's just Leah, is there anything I can do to help you? Yeah can you get me a job, a flat and a boyfriend who loves me? Sorry, can't do that, love.
Well, ta-ra then.
Ta-ra.
All right, I give up, what have I done? Eh? You haven't said a word since 9.
47 except to the dog.
Oh, I know, I'm sorry.
I'm just I'm still thinking about this girl, this Leah.
And Harry.
Who's Harry? Well, that's what we decided to call the Tramp.
The deceased.
I feel for them.
Him especially.
Isolated, alone, perceived by everyone as odd, strange weird even.
Imagine what that must be like.
Imagine! Brian, you can't take on all the troubles of the world.
What you can do is find out who killed someone who everyone else thought of as worthless.
Because you can be sure that somebody somewhere knew him and cared about him.
And that someone needs you.
How did someone like me end up with someone as gorgeous and fantastic as you? That's a question I often ask myself.
I checked with London Underground.
After the King's Cross fire they installed CCTV on the Tube, but it was a bit patchy in '96 so the Murder Squad couldn't work out where the victim got on the train.
Or his killer.
Or where he was murdered? Exactly.
Well, we know he was killed in that carriage.
But does it matter where exactly on the line he got done? It could do because the Circle Line has 26 stations, but not many of them have enough distance between them to give a man time to strangle somebody.
Well, how long does it take manual strangulation? Well, it depends on the circumstances.
I'd reckon two minutes minimum.
Anyway, the killer would want as much time as possible.
Maybe he just got lucky.
Or knew exactly what he was doing.
So why don't you just get on a train? Get a feel for the journey.
Take some proper timings.
I've got a stop watch you can use.
Ah, cheers.
Now, I tried to track down those tramps that the Met wanted to talk to.
They've all got weird monikers.
The ones that ride the Tube are called Hoppers.
Did you track them down? No.
After 15 years no-one's ever heard of them.
No way of knowing if they're even alive.
Now, the Offord family might be more helpful.
Now, the mum, Iris the one who never spoke about the dad died in July '95 which is eight months before Harry got killed.
Now, apart from not having a husband, she did have family.
Well, the parents are dead, but there's a sister who's alive and well and living in Esher.
Brian Lane.
And sisters talk to each other, right? What, really? Hang on.
Hang on.
Christine Offord.
She's upstairs, wants to talk to you.
Mrs Offord.
Christine please.
Um, I just wanted to say sorry, for the way Peter reacted when you came round.
You must understand that Peter is very bitter about what happened to his mum.
But beneath it all I know he wouldn't want you not to try and carry on doing what you're doing.
Well, we are carrying on.
And I know that, deep down, he does want to know he needs to know who this man is.
Who his dad was.
That's all I come to say.
Thank you.
Oi! Let go of her! You animal! Ya-a-ah! Are you all right? Yeah.
Here.
Cheers.
Are you all right? Yeah I think I am.
Thanks.
It's OK.
Take your time.
Ah, lovely.
Better? Yeah, much better now, thanks.
So, what was he after? What did he want? Money? My sleeping bag? Dunno.
How can you live like this? Practice.
No.
Come on.
A life on the streets is no life at all for a young Don't start getting moral! No, no I'm not preaching.
That's this country all over! Please! No.
Don't go.
I'm sorry.
Come on, sit down.
OK.
But only if you don't keep going on.
All right.
It's your generation that cocked everything up, not mine.
Yeah, you're right.
We do need helping.
I definitely need help.
And, you know, the funny thing is you're probably the one who can help me.
What are you? Well, I used to be a policeman.
It's all right, I'm retired now.
I work for a thing now called UCOS.
Unsolved Crime and Open Case Squad.
We're trying to find the murderer of a man who was killed on the Tube.
He's one of those men I was talking about.
They're known as Hoppers.
Yeah.
Yeah, there's still some around.
Yeah? I've met a few.
Weird.
And mad.
And, yeah, I know where some of 'em hang out when they're not on the Tube.
Hello, gentlemen.
Mikey! Hello, Mikey! No.
Sorry, My name's not Mikey.
I'm Brian.
Yah! Mikey always having a laugh! Fancy a drop of cider, Mikey? No, thanks, you're all right.
Er, actually I'm looking for Toolbar.
Ah! Toolbar's gone.
Dead and buried.
And good riddance.
What about Danny Pearl? Dead.
A horse ate him.
Did he owe you money? No, no, no.
Jim the Lick? That's three.
That's bad luck.
You've a terrible habit of bringing up the names of dead men.
I'm sorry.
Forgive me.
Where's your can? Can? Drink.
Oh, no, I don't have any.
You don't know if Tony No Ticket's still around, do you? Where did you say your drink was? I didn't.
In fact, I don't drink.
You're a bloody liar! Everybody drinks! Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, mate, but I assure you that I don't.
Don't lie, Mikey.
Please.
Don't do that.
And don't call me Mikey, it's not my name.
You think you can come here without a bottle, bold as bollocks, and just take the piss!? I am not trying to take That's my coat! You nicked my coat! You're mistaken.
It's mine.
I've had it a long time.
Now, please You're a liar.
You nicked it off me in Debenhams.
You're a dirty, lying, thieving No.
No.
I promise you.
He's a spy! He's a spy for the Ruskies! He wants our internal organs! Bloody hell! Hell of a shot, Bill.
There you go, sweetheart.
Janice Pargetter? Can I help you? Detective Superintendent Pullman, This is colleague Gerry Standing, we're from the Unsolved Crime and Open Case Squad.
Really? Could we possibly come in for a few moments? Of course.
How exciting! What is it you've come to talk to me about? We believer that Iris Offord was your sister.
Is that right? I'm sorry, I've no interest in Iris and no wish to talk about her.
Mrs Pargetter.
We're investigating the murder of a man who may have some connection to your sister.
I wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised.
Be that as it may, it is of no consequence to me and I merely reiterate that I have nothing to say about anything to do with Iris.
Perhaps you don't understand.
Of course I understand.
My husband is close friends with the Chief Constable of Surrey.
Is he? Is he really?! No, that's absolutely fine, Mrs Pargetter.
I'll have a word with my boss and get him to the Commissioner who can talk with your husband's friend.
That way it should be easier to bring uniformed Officers and take you to Esher Police station.
Would that be better for you? Wakey-wakey.
Come on.
Get up and get a move on.
It's all right, I'm with the Met.
Hang on.
Oh, my God! Yes, very good.
Now, be a nice lad and on your way.
No, you don't understand Oh, I think I do.
No, what I mean is, they've taken everything away with them.
Not the smell of cider, they haven't.
I have not been drinking! No, of course you haven't! On your bike.
Have you got my bike? Don't try and be clever.
I don't have to I work for UCOS! I'm a former CID detective with 31 years' experience! I won't tell you again.
Get up! Don't talk to me like that.
Listen.
Get up and shut up.
I told you, don't use that tone of voice with me! Stand back! Warning.
Taser firing! You all right, love? Yeah, Yeah.
Are you scared? I used to travel a lot.
On the Tube.
But then I stopped.
Because of 7/7? What? No, no no.
My wife died.
Well, I think you're very brave.
I better get to work.
I removed Iris from my life a very long time ago as did our parents.
Why? Because Iris was a creature of the '60s in its worst manifestation.
Wild, selfish and a complete embarrassment to the whole family.
And where are your family from? Battersea.
My father was a postman and mother was a cleaner.
They sacrificed a lot for us obviously.
And Iris repaid them by embracing all those nonsensical ideas the '60s were full of.
Such as? Socialism.
Hippiedom.
Free love And Iris discovered that free love is not free at all.
Certainly not in Essex.
Essex? That's where she went chasing her god.
David something I don't know his other name.
She met him in London and ran after him like a silly lapdog.
Even got a job in a pub apparently to be near him.
Of course he just used her, she ended up coming back tail between her legs and she was pregnant.
By this David.
Who knows? I assume so.
Anyhow, Iris wanted back into the family fold but Mum and Dad wouldn't have it.
They wouldn't let her in the house.
Talk to her, even.
We never spoke to her again.
Whereabouts in Essex, do you know? Oh, somewhere awful.
Beginning with a B I think.
Basildon, Brentwood? No, no somewhere much worse than that.
Billericay.
Exactly.
Yes, that was it.
How old was Iris, when she got pregnant? Excuse me.
It's Esther.
They Tasered me! He became violent.
I was not violent.
I was vehement! He was naked except for a T-shirt, pair of pants and a single sock.
Those bloody tramps nicked my coat! About time someone did.
I'm sorry you've been put to so much trouble.
I assure you it's very out of character.
Thank you, but it's not the first time this has happened.
Mr Lane has been arrested twice before for being drunk and disorderly.
That was years ago, he doesn't touch a drop now.
At all.
Ever.
Come on.
Thank you.
I have to get my coat back! If you don't shut up you'll be lucky to get your job back.
Thank you, Sandra.
Thank you.
You.
In.
Now.
I feel violated.
Well, you should have more respect for the police then, shouldn't you? I'm talking about my coat! I'm bereft.
It's a filthy, shabby old thing you should have got rid of ages ago.
You don't understand.
That coat has a value and a significance way beyond mere, mere material goods.
It's Oh, go to sleep.
Those bloody tramps.
Oh, what those people you care about so much? Not this lot! These were just a bunch of nasty, thieving Anyway they need that coat a lot more than you do.
According to Broadmoor Bill and Bedknob, most of them were dead and I never got to find out about this Tony No Ticket.
They went very weird when I mentioned him.
Jack, tell us about the Tube.
There's hardly ever more than a couple of minutes between stations on the Circle Line.
Probably no more than about 70 seconds.
But there is this bit between King's Cross and Liverpool Street where there are three stretches with at least two minutes each.
Oh, I got in touch with Missing Persons, see if they had anyone on file, between the ages of 18 and 45 called David who went missing from Billericay in the late '80s.
They're going to get back to us.
Billericay? Yeah, Janice Pargetter said that Iris went to Essex, got a job in a pub and came back pregnant.
Probably not a world first.
Right then, I'm off.
Jack, go with him and make sure he stays out of trouble.
Where's your coat? Your guess is as good as mine, Jack.
Well, apparently if they're not down by the river, they'll be hanging around here somewhere.
Jack! It's me coat! It's me lucky coat! That swine, they've given it to charity.
Hardly given it, they've probably flogged it, or No, it's mine! Jack, look! It's my lucky coat.
No, Brian, Brian.
Look.
That's your coat.
Right, get it off! Eh? That's my coat that you nicked and I want it back! Now, look here, pal.
Coat! Off! Now look what you done.
You made poor old Broadmoor Bill cry.
You knocked me out with a half-brick, you stripped me and left me on the ground next to naked.
Yes.
But it was Sid and Bill who took your clothes.
And it was me who told them to leave you your pants so's you could retain your dignity.
Get it off! Ugh Eau de Thames.
Right, Tony No Ticket.
Where do we find him? You're bad luck.
The angel of death.
Everyone you talk about is dead Or dying.
Like No Ticket.
Dying? Where? In a thingy.
A dying place.
What, you mean a hospice? That's it.
That's right.
A hospital where they put you on ice.
Until Brilliant.
Thanks very much.
Governor, David Allenforth aged 46 from Timworth near Billericay was reported missing in 1989 by his younger brother Charles.
Now we're talking! David? Yes.
March 1996.
We can't be sure of course but No, no, please.
If it was David it would be a relief in all sorts of ways.
But murdered? Well, that's so sad.
We know next to nothing about your brother, so it might help if you could tell us something about him.
You reported him missing in 1989? Yes.
He had disappeared before that from time to time, but he'd always returned.
David suffered from depression.
I was worried he might take his own life.
It's doubly ironic he was found on a train.
I half-expected to hear he'd died under one.
He was mad about railways.
It was his passion.
Did you know anything about this Iris Offord? About her and David? Did you hear that he might have had a son? No, no.
That would be a real surprise.
May I ask, do you know where this man is buried? Yeah, he's in an unmarked grave but I can let you know where exactly.
Please.
If it does turn out to be David, I'd like for him to be brought back here and buried among his family.
I'm sure that can be arranged.
Thank you.
And thanks for coming all this way personally to tell me.
Would it be possible to take a sample of your DNA, just to ascertain whether the dead man is your brother or not.
Of course.
In or out of the bag, your coat stinks.
All right.
I'll not leave it in the car.
Ah, it's from Sandra.
Harry, possibly David Allenforth from Billericay.
Missing since 1989.
Good Afternoon.
Good afternoon.
Welcome to Saint Eleanor's hospice.
Thank you.
Be gentle with him.
He's a favourite of us all.
Tony? Tony Hale? Possibly.
Also known as Tony No Ticket? I've not been called that in ages! But you were when you used to ride the Underground.
Ride it? I used to live on it.
How long? Oh! Years.
Without a ticket.
Almost never with a ticket.
But that was in the good old days when people treated a man like a human being.
Looks like you're being treated like a human being here.
Ah, these are not people they're choirs of angels singing me to my rest.
And the Circle Line did you ride on that? Many a time and oft.
In the 1990s? Oh, yes.
And do you remember another gentleman of the road at the time, who also rode the Circle Line? You mean 'rails'.
Gentleman of the rails.
Only this gentleman was murdered in March I think you can let them take me in.
Thank you.
Come on then.
I take it you do remember the dead man.
The police spoke to you about it at the time.
But they didn't get much sense out of you.
No.
I would have been quite insensible with the drink.
You'd get more sense out of a frog in a cocktail cabinet.
That was one of his sayings the feller you're on about.
You knew him? The Loconaut? He was my guiding light.
A great and gentle man.
Loconaut? Mad about trains.
Any of them.
But the London Underground above all.
He'd a passion for it, he said.
What was his real name? David.
That's all you could get out of him.
He wouldn't tell anyone his surname.
Said his identity was in a previous life he preferred to forget.
To the rest of us he was just the Loconaut.
Or loco nut more often than not.
Why? Because he was mad.
Completely.
Mad, melancholy and very broken at the heart of it all.
Because? Because he had lost the most valuable thing in his life, he said.
What was that? A jewel, he called it.
A lost jewel he could never get back.
He said that he'd been bribed to give it away.
He called it blood money.
The worst thing he ever did in his life.
D'you know what he meant by that? Of course I do.
It was a woman, a woman he loved and his family persuaded him to dump her.
Where was he from? You'd never know from his voice which was cut glass but I recall him saying the letters LNER were engraved upon his heart.
Ah-ha! London and North Eastern Railway! Well, before the grouping in 1923, Essex would have been part of Eastern Railways before it was amalgamated into what became LNER in 1923.
Oh, you and the Loconaut would have got on like a shed on fire.
And a lot more than the snoop who came looking for him.
What snoop? When? Not long after I last saw the Loco.
A Private Investigator he titled himself.
A snoop I say.
Why didn't you mention this to the police this? Because I was pissed.
And did you tell this snoop where the Loconaut was? I did not.
I told him no more than save that he was probably on a train somewhere in England.
Do you remember his name? What was he like? Devious.
Said he was working for the family.
Right.
Right, I'd be very much obliged if you two would bugger off.
I'm getting bored with both of you and I'd like to do a bit more breathing whilst I'm capable of it, if you don't mind.
I think he's dying.
But that doesn't mean he's not lying.
Yeah.
Hang on, where's me coat? Did you want it? Yes.
Excuse me.
I was wondering if you knew anything about Tony before he came here? Oh, I'm afraid I don't know very much at all.
Except that he was in the army for a while.
I'm sorry.
Thank you.
I'm making a call to see if Tony is ex-army.
The labs should have preliminary results on Charles Allenforth's DNA by the end of the day.
OK.
We're going to go and see Christine Offord to find out what she really wanted to say.
Ta-da.
God, I wish they wouldn't always play Vivaldi.
I told you I never ever saw any tramp.
I never met my father or wanted to kill him.
Peter, stop please.
Stop it.
We're not going to get anywhere like this.
I just wanted to say that we haven't been completely honest and that we hired a private detective to track his father down.
When? After his mother, Iris died.
She'd spent her whole life waiting for him to turn up.
She said he was the love of her life and vice versa.
Chrissie please She told us he would come for her that one day he would come back.
Back? From where? She just said he would come.
On a train.
She said he'd arrive by train.
They met on a train.
He kissed her on that train.
Iris said she'd never forgot that kiss.
And neither would he.
And that he would come back.
But he didn't.
No.
In the end it broke her heart.
Years of waiting.
It killed her.
She was 45.
When she died it made me pretty mad.
I wanted to find him and yes, more out of hate than anything else but I never got anywhere.
I tracked down my mum's sister, but she didn't even want to know me Hang on.
You spoke to Janice? Yeah.
That's where I started.
I tried to explain to her but she just said she knew nothing about my mum.
She more or less slammed the door in my face.
That's when we got the Detective involved.
And this would have been in 1996? Yes but that was even worse.
He took a load of money off me and then just vanished.
How do you mean? Well, we never heard from him and when we went back to his office a couple of weeks later, it was empty cleared out.
After that I just gave up.
What was his name? Er Chrissie, what was it? Roger? Yes.
He said he was an ex-policeman.
Oh, yeah, Roger Mc McHugh.
Yeah.
Now I believe you.
Roger the Dodger, remember him? Dodgy Roger McHugh.
Exactly.
Oh, well that puts a whole new dimension to this case.
Yeah.
A whole new lying hound dimension.
Oh, and he's changed his name.
Oh, yeah? Now he's known as Richard Meyer.
Thank you.
Even rhymes with liar.
I checked out an address in Holborn where the Offords claim they met Roger McHugh and the landlord says McHugh left in February '96 owing six months rent.
One month before David died.
Yeah, if it is David.
It is.
Initial DNA results confirm that Charles Allenforth and the dead man are siblings.
Their father was killed in Korea.
Well, Charles has definitely got to be in the frame as then.
Along with Tony No Ticket.
Yeah, well I thought you said you didn't think another tramp could have done it? That was before I found out that this tramp was ex-SAS.
You're kidding? He was a Para for nine years and then the Regiment from 1975 to 1986.
I don't know what he did but that period includes Northern Ireland, the Embassy siege, the Falklands War.
Certainly gives him the know-how.
Yes, but not the why.
How many killings are just spur of the moment.
How many fuelled by drink? My money's still on Peter Offord.
Yeah, especially with Roger the dodger involved.
And we've only got the Offords' word that they never saw McHugh again.
Well, there's only one way to find out.
I think it's time you and Brian renewed an old friendship.
Can't wait! Is this it? Can't be.
It is.
Makes you sick doesn't it.
Don't worry, Mrs Shorey, we'll do our level best to find Andre and the money.
If you could just leave your telephone number, address and credit card details with Antoinette and leave the rest to me and my associates.
Is that ok? Jolly good.
Mrs Sheppard.
Hello Richard.
I'm sorry, have we met before? Oh, yes.
2005.
Only then you were The Triple A Detective Agency.
Roger.
No, no, no, no.
You must have me mixed up with someone quite different I'm afraid.
Oh, unlikely.
And then, as now, we came to see you about a murder.
No.
I am afraid you are completely mistaken.
My name is Richard Meyer.
A young Asian girl in a coma very nasty.
And now it's a man strangled on a train.
Could you, could you hold my calls, Antoinette? Don't worry, everybody, back with you in just a moment.
Just to sort out this terrible misunderstanding.
Now, gentlemen, would you give me one minute? Roger! Roger! Come to Daddy! All right, all right.
You were in the regiment 11 years, Tony.
That's an awfully long time.
Where were you? All over the place.
You must have seen some pretty dark things? Oh, please don't tell me you're trying to link cause and effect.
That would be cod psychology of the most trite variety.
David Allenforth was your friend.
The finest man you ever knew, you told my colleague here.
Now the person who strangled him, did it very quickly and expertly.
Yes, well not being long for this world if I see David in the next, I'll ask him who did it.
You don't know? How could I? I wasn't there.
Listen.
In January 1996, Peter Offord gave you 400 quid to find his father.
You took the 400 quid and legged it! No.
Next question.
Yeah.
Why are you such a liar? Is that a medical condition? I couldn't possibly comment except to remind you both that I, like you, used to be a copper.
You were never a copper like us.
The man Offord wanted you to find was called David Allenforth.
He was found strangled to death on a Tube train less than seven weeks after you were 'hired'.
Yeah right.
He died face to face with his killer, who we think knew him and where to find him.
Now, you were supposed to be looking for him, Roger.
You're not serious? You don't seriously think that I had something to do with the murder of this guy? I can believe anything of you, Roger.
I said I can believe anything of you Richard! Even murder! All right, all right, all right.
I admit that I did meet with Offord and I may have accepted a small sum of money from him.
Thank you.
Which you never paid back.
Things were erm, things were extremely difficult back then.
Were they? Yeah and besides, it was clear that it was a hopeless search.
Soon as I knew he was a tramp Who said he was a tramp? How do you know he was a tramp? His aunt told me.
His Aunt? What, Janice Pargetter? Yeah.
Iron knickers.
Now why would she tell you things she wouldn't tell us? Err, cos I offered her money.
OK.
Then what? Well, then I went on this half hearted search for this tramp called Dave Billericay was it? Yes? And? Did you find him? No.
So? So, then I went to look for a missing person called Dave from Billericay.
And I discovered that there was one and that he had a brother.
So, I went to meet him.
You went to meet him? Yes Posh Charlie.
Posh Charlie? Were you a parrot, were you? In another life? Yeah, posh Charlie.
Minted.
Anyway he said ta very much and that was that.
What d'you mean, that was that? Why didn't you go back to the Offords? They'd have given you more money for succeeding.
But I didn't succeed, did I? All I did was establish who this geezer might have been I never actually located him.
As I say, a waste of time! Janice.
I'm sorry but I've said all I'm going to say about my sister.
Well, that just goes to show how wrong you can be.
Two words Roger McHugh.
Roger who? He was a Private Detective who called on you in 1996.
OK, how about your nephew Peter Offord? He called on you roughly the same time to ask you to help find his dad.
How was I to know who he was? You knew exactly who he was.
So why did you lie to him and tell him you knew nothing about his father? Because I didn't! Or was it because he didn't offer you any money? We're not laughing, Janice.
You lied to your nephew and yet you were happy to sell information to a Private Eye.
And what good would it have done, my giving that information to Iris's son? That his mother threw herself at a man for nothing.
He just abandoned her.
He called you didn't he? David.
No.
No I don't know who you're talking about.
Urgh.
Governor, shall I phone the Surrey Police? No! No!! Lets go inside, Janice.
I didn't think there would be any doubt.
I always knew it was David.
Yes, well, we didn't just come to give you the initial test results, Mr Allenforth.
The fact is, we've tracked down a Private Detective called Roger McHugh.
Now he claims he came to see you in connection with your missing brother.
Back in February 1996.
Yes.
Yes, that's true.
But you didn't think to mention this to Detective Superintendent Pullman.
Can you explain why? Because the man you're talking about took money from me.
And? I didn't trust him at first.
I thought he was working for someone trying to get money out of the family.
Well, he got that bit right, didn't he? He did.
No, I mean he explained about the Offords.
He was very plausible.
So in the end I told Mr McHugh that whatever he was being paid to find my brother, I would more than double it if he succeeded not least because of my anxiety over David's mental state.
Let me get this straight you also hired McHugh to find your missing brother? Yes.
But then after I paid him a sizeable retainer he disappeared and I never saw him again.
I felt a fool for having fallen for what was obviously just a confidence trick.
How much is 'sizeable'? £2,000.
He was thin, dirty, very badly dressed.
Unkempt.
When was this? I can't remember.
Sometime around 1990, something like that.
What did he want? He wanted to find my sister.
Go on.
He said he loved her.
That he'd always loved her and that it had been a mistake letting her go.
That he'd never forgiven himself.
I wasn't impressed.
What did you say to him? I told him what was for the best.
I said that Iris was happy now and she'd moved on.
That she was married.
That was untrue.
I did what was right.
What possible good could have come from him seeing the woman he'd abandoned so many years earlier? Did you tell him he had a son? Of course not.
It probably wasn't even his anyway.
MOBILE RINGS Jack.
Hi.
No, we're done.
Did he? OK, we'll get on to it.
Cheers, bye.
Let's get out of here.
Oh, come on.
This is harassment.
Evening, Roger.
Long time, no see.
Proper Copper.
Listen, I've already chatted with Doc and his mate Dopey here And we've talked to Charles Allenforth, who says he did hire you but you ran off with £2,000 of his.
That's getting to be quite a habit with you, Roger.
I ran off? Did I bollocks! Not true? No.
I'll admit, I didn't get back to Offord, but I did get back to Posh Charlie about his brother.
What, you found David Allenforth? Well, no.
But I knew who he was, so I could work out where he might hang out.
So I phoned posh Charlie and I said, "Listen - your brother's up in London somewhere being a tramp.
"And seeing as how information is the currency of my business, if you want a bit more then "It'll cost ya.
" And what did he say to that? He said it wasn't worth the two grand he'd already paid me and he wanted some of it back.
So I said, "Tough.
" WAS there any more? As it happens, yeah.
Yeah, I found out that his brother used to hang about on the Underground.
He was one of them What d'you call 'em? Hoppers.
Yeah, that's it.
And how did you find this out? I was told it by another tramp.
He said that he was this David geezer's best mate and that they used to spend all day on the Underground going round and round on the Circle Line.
Did this other tramp have a name? Yeah, course he did.
He was, er Bus pass.
Something like that.
No Ticket.
Tony No Ticket.
That's right, yeah.
Tony No Ticket.
Good night.
Anthony, what are you doing? You KNOW you shouldn't be out of bed.
Leave me alone! I'm fine.
I'm fine.
Go on, get out of here.
Tony, this is Gerry.
All right? Yeah, I'm all right, yeah.
Gerry and just I talked to the snoop who came looking for David Allenforth in 1996.
He said that you told him all about David how he was your friend, how you rode the Underground together.
The Circle Line, even.
That's not what you told us.
I forget things a lot.
No.
Tony, that won't do.
Look, I was under the influence.
The drink, see.
So what you did tell this private eye? He plied me with drink.
Yeah, he'd do that.
But afterwards I-I couldn't remember exactly what it was that I'd said.
Except Except what? Except I shouldn't have said it.
I remember him saying the Loconaut's family were worried for him.
Wanting to find him.
And I realised then I'd done the worst thing possible.
What do you mean? I'd put him back in the shit, among the people who wrecked his life.
So I tried to put it right.
Put it right? Yeah, I tried to save him.
You've lost me.
I spoke to the family.
The brother, in particular.
What are you talking about? I tracked him down.
Tracked him down? How? How?! I tracked Colombian drug barons for three months in the South American rainforest, savvy.
I got on a train! What did you say to the brother? I told him to get out of David's life.
To leave his life and leave him alone.
That living on the Underground, like me and David, was better than being dead and buried above ground like them.
Am I right? Scampi! Good boy.
Come on.
Esther? I'm home! Come on, boy.
Esther! Esther! What are you doing? It was alive.
That was my coat! Yes, I know it was.
I bought it for you.
Now I'm getting rid of it.
My lucky coat! Yep, he should be here by now.
Where have you been? Garnering information.
What information? DNA.
I'm an expert now.
What? UCOS.
Brian Lane.
Cheers.
I'm on me way.
Charles Allenforth has arrived.
I'll explain in there.
Sorry for dragging you all the way to London, but Well, we have been up to Essex twice.
We've had the full results of the DNA tests now.
They confirm that the dead body found on the Tube train in 1996 was your brother David.
Ah.
I thought it must be.
We now also know that Peter Offord is definitely your brother's illegitimate son.
Would you like to meet him? Of course.
I'd be happy to.
Do you think you might settle some of the Allenforth estate upon Peter? He being David's son.
Well, my brother having died, any claim by an illegitimate child of a deceased heir automatically fails.
You seem very certain of the law.
There was a lot of legalese for me to look after when David went missing.
Certainly a lot of estate.
When did you first become aware that Peter Offord was looking for his father? I can't remember, specifically.
February 1996.
That would be eight months before the seven years needed to elapse before you could make a legal claim on the family estate.
The heir to an estate having to be missing presumed dead for at least seven years before the next in line can inherit.
That is right, isn't it, Mr Allenforth? I'm sorry, I'm not with you.
We're talking about English law.
You, being the youngest son, would be next in line to the estate.
Correct? What's going on? What's this about? Tony Hale.
His street name, as it were, is Tony No Ticket.
You met him in February '96.
When he told you where your brother was.
Something which, for reasons I can only guess at, you neglected to inform us.
I have no idea who or what you're referring to.
I'm referring to how you traced your brother, Mr Allenforth.
My God.
You mean I'm under suspicion? For killing my brother David? Is that what you're saying? I'm talking about what Tony Hale has to say.
Guv? I need a word.
Urgent.
Excuse me.
This is ludicrous.
Nice tie.
I'm sorry to have taken up so much of your time, Mr Allenforth.
You're free to go.
What are you doing? Should you wish to communicate with me again about my brother's death, I would prefer it if you did so through my solicitor.
Goodbye.
What the hell is going on? Tony No Ticket died last night.
That's it.
No, it isn't.
Mr Allenforth.
Sorry, Mr Allenforth.
Just one more thing.
If you wouldn't mind? One LAST thing.
Give us a minute, will you? We know you murdered your brother.
Oh, not you personally.
I'm sure you always get someone else to do your dirty work But that's not really what I wanted to talk about.
These are the DNA profiles for you, your brother David and Mr Peter Offord.
Fascinating, I'm sure! Particularly when you realise that you and your brother share the same mother but not the same father.
I'm sorry? This morning, I contacted the War Records Office at Kew and the Gloucestershire Regiment your father's old outfit.
Peter David Allenforth was killed at Imjin, Korea on April 23rd, 1951.
You were born When was it? March.
March of the same year.
Now, according to the records, your father was in Korea for before he was killed.
In other words, he couldn't have been here when you were conceived.
Therefore he couldn't be your real father.
Who the hell do you think you are? Oh, I know who I am - that's the whole point.
Now, I can't prove that you murdered your brother.
But I can pass this DNA information on to Mr Peter Offord, who, I suspect, might want to be in touch.
For although he is illegitimate, he is the son of a legitimate heir and I think that trumps you.
John, escort this gentleman off the premises, would you? Look, Jack.
It fits and everything.
Yeah, I like it.
Feels just like my old coat.
Fits perfectly.
Even smells like it.
What's wrong? I don't know.
It won't start.
I don't believe it! The battery's dead.
It's all right, we'll take the Tube.
Taxi!