A Touch of Frost

Well, we seem to be getting into deep water.

- I don't know why. - Don't you?

No.

Leave him!

What about the woman? What woman?

The RSPCA Inspector. She saw us.

Some little shit is dead and he shouldn't be, right?

What matters now is that our son walks away from this without ruining his life.

A crime that happened a long time ago.

A crime that has happened exactly the same way now as it did then.

I've always admired the way animals fight to protect their young.

George.

George! Come here!

Yeah?

I suppose there is no doubt that it was arson?

The Chief Fire Officer thinks so, yes.

But we need Forensics, Jack.

They should be able to get into the reception now. That's where the fire started.

Right.

I suppose you'll want a statement.

Well, you have been conscious for at least ten minutes, so we ought to get started.

No jokes.

Laughing is what hurts.

Hey, come on.

Come on now. You're doing so well.

Unless they're charged, we're going to have to release them.

Mrs. Moorhead is lucky to be alive.

I don't know how she feels now about being the only witness we have.

Ah.

Hello. It's Sophie, isn't it, and Joshua?

I'm Inspector Frost, Jack Frost.

Is she all right, Mr. Frost?

Well, yes, she's going to be fine.

Erm, you guys go and see Mum. I'll catch you up.

- Yes, she's right down the corridor on the left. - Thank you.

- Allen Moorhead. - Oh, how do you do?

I gave the kids an edited version of what happened. Is she all right?

Yeah. She's going to be fine,

but the line between that and what might have been was pretty close.

Was this fire an accident?

Erm...

No, we don't think it was.

I gather you're a friend, as well. Christine won't think that's any of my business,

but we've got two children, whose safety makes it my business.

Yes. Of course.

Well, Christine will fill you in with the details.

I'm afraid that I must be off.

- Nice to have met you. - And you.

Bye-bye.

So, if you'd just like to check through all the details,

make sure it's all correct and sign at the bottom, please.

What do you want, Mr. Salmond?

Don't worry, Inspector. Not you.

My car has been stolen. Last night.

Really?

Well, quite a lot happened last night, then.

Something I should know about?

You judge.

There was a fire at the RSPCA Centre.

The Fire Brigade tell us it was arson.

So, if Mr. Berland hasn't been in touch with you, he will be.

Is that an accusation, Inspector?

Mrs. Moorhead was in the clinic, last night, when it was firebombed.

Now, they called him the Cat Killer.

Not because he killed cats, no, no.

No, because he used cats at least twice to get his victims to stop.

Yes, yes, I know all that, Trigg.

Yes, I'm just cranking up my motor. It's a long time ago, you know, 20 years.

- 22. - What?

It's here. Look.

Daniel Ruckman.

Where's Daniel Ruckman now?

Well, it was another two years before he was caught.

He'd killed two more women by then, though, but that's all I've got on the computer.

Daniel Ruckman. Died 21st April 2003. Broadmoor.

Transferred from Leeds in '98.

Ten years to work out he was barking mad.

Well, it looks like you were right, Trigg.

We've got two crimes that are the same as something that happened years ago.

- Three. What?

If Mr. Trigg is right about the attack on your car and the smashed kitchen window.

Hm.

All right. Get me everything you can on the underpass, the Cat Killer

and the attacks on officers' cars.

All right?

Oh.

And see if there's anything about something being written on a windscreen.

Like what?

Like a death threat.

George! There was a kitten where Philip Headen was killed.

- Where is it? - I don't know, Jack.

Well, find it!

Gerry Berland has been trying to reach you.

No charges against his son or the other boy. They're due for release.

- He wants to know why you're not on it. - That's not all he wants me on.

- I don't want him on my back. - All right.

- Anything on the car, Greg? - No. And I don't have high hopes.

- I hope Berland is paying us a lot of money. - Greg's problem not mine.

But he is a problem. Certainly doesn't do much for the reputation of this practice.

Since when has that been any concern of yours?

Well...

I hope it soon will be, Alice.

Neil! Call over tomorrow.

A party.

The RSPCA.

Berland has an alibi?

His house was burgled.

And he made such a fuss that no-one from CID was turned out.

So his alibi is Georgie Toolan.

Be careful about making it too personal, Jack.

That's a weapon his lawyer will use against us.

Why would I want to make it personal?

Hello.

Hi, Maxine. Christine Moorhead.

Emergency!

Let's say my hair "needs some attention". Can you come to the house?

Oh, great. Oh, you're an angel.

Thanks. See you then. Bye.

He's had someone following my kids, Jack, photographing them.

Berland is not going to get away with this, Christine.

He is not, I promise you.

I made a decision. Nobody would intimidate me out of telling the truth about Brian's murder.

But it's not me I'm afraid for, Jack.

Not now.

All right, Marek?

She shut up, right?

Ah, she shut up, all right. It's a surprise, though, she hasn't been shut up for good.

You remember the brief? Yeah?

A small fire. After the place was empty.

- The job is done. - Yeah.

I think you've been sampling too much of the merchandise, my old son.

You should take a holiday, Marek. Eh?

Poland. See the family.

By the way...

Here's a wee bonus for you. It's one of the Taliban's best.

Knock yourself out.

So, George, we've found Mr. Salmond's pride and joy, then, have we?

Yeah. Someone tried burning it out by the Fernside shopping centre.

They weren't very good at it.

But it's not your average nicked car.

Huh?

The keys...

were still in the ignition.

And this.

50 grams of cocaine found in the boot.

The car also matches the description of a hit-and-run

that's put a four-year-old girl in hospital.

She's in a coma.

That's it. That's the car.

Are you sure?

It was only a moment, but I can still see it now.

You know who did it?

This car was reported stolen the night or the morning before the accident.

Now, we have this car.

If there are any traces of the bike on it, we know it's the one.

It's not just about finding the car.

It's about what was in it.

I'd just bought some coke - quite a lot - and it was in the boot.

Oh.

- You... left it in your car? - I was out of my tree.

- Alice, I don't even remember getting home. - Do I want to hear this?

- If they think the drugs are to do with me... - Why would they?

Criminals steal cars. They...

...use them for crimes.

Well, I would have to prove that I was at home, that night, and that I never went out.

You expect me to lie for you.

I'm not saying they could prove anything,

but, surely, it's better for all of us, if they don't even try.

The question of what I would be doing with that much coke...

A mugging. A murder.

And a bike rider who's into ancient history.

Your ancient history, Jack.

And now a death threat?

Words on a windscreen.

It doesn't put us in a position to make a link, does it?

Well, if we hadn't lost the evidence, of course.

I was in no position to do a forensic examination, last night, was I?

Anyway, whoever is doing this knows a lot about you, you specifically.

And now a man is dead.

What about the RSPCA? Is there any way this could be linked to Berland?

No. No.

Berland is too clever to threaten me.

Trigg is right. If the death threat does connect, it will be with the mountain-bike attacks.

Jenny and I are trying to find a link between the original attacks 20 years ago.

Yeah, but there was no link, then, was there?

They both gave you a hard time.

There was a lot of criticism of CID.

The criminals went on to commit similar crimes.

To kill.

There was a feeling things were missed.

I'm not saying it's true.

Maybe it was.

I mean, it wasn't Denton CID's finest hour, was it?

Or mine, either, come to that.

The attacks on officers' cars was never solved. Not in the same league, but...

Still a failure.

Someone's rubbing your nose in it, Jack. That's the nearest I can get.

No.

It goes deeper than that.

- We're investigating a murder. - I know we are, Jack.