Inspector Lewis

We live in a world of information.

Cyberspace is choc-a-block with the stuff.

Half of it is accurate, but boring.

The other half is just plain wrong and useless.

But one per cent of it is of great value.

And one per cent of that one per cent is lethal.

Cheers!

To Jo. It's horrible.

Happy birthday, Jo.

Just what I wanted.

I got a pony for my 21st. She's already got a pony.

I was a sneak thief.

I hacked into the Pentagon,

The Ministry of Defence,

City of London, and other places.

And I had a good look at their dirty underwear.

I tell you, it's not a good way to make friends.

I wouldn't blame them for wanting me dead.

Yes. Yes, I've seen it.

Well, I suppose one should be grateful that the apostrophe's in the right place.

Of course... I have taken remedial action.

Have you picked your first victim yet?

How long a list do you want?

I'm speaking to ex-criminal turned best-selling author, Nicky Turnbull.

Mr Turnbull. Nicky.

Sorry. Nicky. On the cover of your paperback,

you're called "the first of the rock'n'roll hackers." Would you like to elaborate?

We live in a world of information.

Cyberspace is choc-a-block with the stuff. Tosser.

Hi, pet, it's your dad. I got your message. Um...

I'll try again this evening.

Let's try and have a conversation one of these young days,

or one of these weeks. Love you.

Morning, sir. Governor wants a word.

It's all right, I've scrubbed my fingernails.

Does the name Nicky Turnbull mean anything to you?

Celebrity criminal. I happened to catch him on the radio on the way in.

Any conclusions? I wasn't really paying much attention.

He's been getting death threats. His agent telephoned.

Could we keep an eye on him while he's in Oxford?

Baby-sitting?

I'm not utterly convinced about these death threats,

but, on the other hand, I made a discreet call to Whitehall.

Mr Turnbull's not without enemies.

I don't suppose you've read his book? No, it passed me by.

Just out in paperback.

"The astonishing story of how a boy from the wrong side of the tracks on Tyneside

uncovered the deadliest secrets of MI5 and the Pentagon."

The first "rock'n'roll hacker".

Ah! You were paying attention.

Well, that bit sort of sunk in.

He also stole a few million quid from various corporate piggy banks -

including a couple of Oxford colleges

ending up in prison where he learned to be a writer and found redemption.

Warms your heart, doesn't it? I can think of better ways to warm my heart.

He's from your part of the world, so you can talk about whippets, and leeks, and Alan Shearer.

Is that his name? Yeah, that's his name. But he's retired now.

There's the book, and there's a copy of his Oxford itinerary.

Try and keep him alive till four o'clock tomorrow.

And maybe check whether he's really retired.

Noted.

I remember this place when it was a prison.

I suppose it's a compliment to our clean-up rate that it isn't needed any more.

Yeah, that must be it.

Finished that already? I sort of speed-read it.

I see. Any good?

It's exploiting the public's fascination with crime and criminals.

Are we being exploited?

I wonder if this police protection is just a publicity stunt.

I wouldn't bet against it, sir.

What is it about people that wear dark glasses even when the sun isn't shining?

Wow! A formidable police presence, eh?

Your agent says you've had death threats.

We've been ordered to give you protection.

I could have done with yous two when I was in prison.

The old lags give you a hard time? It's all in the book.

Don't suppose you've read it yet, but... No, I've read it.

Oh, he's a good lad, your sergeant. I know.

I haven't read your book, so you'll need to tell me who might like to kill you.

I certainly upset people in the Pentagon.

And in Whitehall, I caused one or two early retirements on full pension.

Then I took a few million from er... a couple of chaps in the City of London.

They do it to each other all the time, like, but they don't like it when it's a lad like me.

"Robin Hood of the '90s. I stole from the rich and I kept it for myself."

That's very good.

I'm quoting your book.

As I said, very good.

Why would any of these people want to kill you now?

This was all years ago. You say you've retired.

Or is it just publicity for your paperback?

Probably the publication of the paperback has reminded them

that I know where some of the bodies are buried.

Hotel security, James.

So, do you get back home much?

Every night. Unless there's a major incident.

No, I mean up North.

Last proper visit, 15 years ago. My Uncle Harry's funeral.

Don't you miss it?

If I did, I'd go up more often.

Howay man! You can take the lad out of Tyneside,

you canna take Tyneside out of the lad.

Sorry, I've never been much of a professional Northerner.

Thank you very much, Mr Webster. Enjoy your stay.

I shall make resolute efforts so to do. Thank you.

Excuse me.

How can I help you, sir?

I was wondering if you could tell me about hotel security.

Security? As in people coming in and going out.

I see evidence of CCTV.

Yes. I suppose... that's the security.

Covering what? The main entrance and the exit to the car park?

Well...

..yes.

Does it run 24 hours? I expect so.

I go off at five. Handing over to...?

His name's Paul. He's a proper hotel person. I'm only part-time.

OK. Well, thanks, Chloe.

Oh, what are you reading? PPE.

Politics, Philosophy, Economics.

Good luck. Have a nice life.

Hi. Mr Turnbull?

Nicky. Nicky.

We are your reception committee.

Caroline Morton, reading English and Union President.

David Harvey, Union Secretary. I wrote the grovelling invitation.

Which I dictated, because I do long words and I schmooze well.

Jo Gilchrist, student journalist.

I'm a rugby player. I mainly do muscle.

Aye. Didn't I see you playing for England? You were there?

No, on the box, like.

You saw the Aussie who jumped on my leg and knackered my knee.

I haven't played since. But we help him with his therapy.

I bet you do.

Stephen Gilchrist, Jo's brother. I'm not on any committees.

I just like to hang around for the free suppers, try to keep my sister out of trouble.

Totally without success.

Now there's a surprise.

But we let Stephen do the money.

He'll be dealing with your expenses.

Well, that's easy, there aren't any.

The cheque'll be in the post tomorrow.

Right.

I'm an old family friend from Tyneside, just passing through.

Shall we sit down and relax?

Anybody object to champagne?

Could we have a bottle of champagne and five glasses?

How do you want to organise this, sir?

Well, for a start, it's not a two-man job. In fact, I don't think it's a proper job at all.

Afternoon shift or evening shift? Take your pick.

Afternoon. I'm doing something this evening, but I can change it if you've got plans.

I very rarely have plans.

Oh, he signed your book.

Oh, I shall no doubt treasure it.

"To Tom, my favourite copper"? Tom?

Tom. James.

Not even close, are they?

Look how he's spelt favourite. The O and the U the wrong way round.

He's supposed to be a writer.

They've got computer spelling machines to do that for you nowadays.

Keep an eye on me, Tom. I might end up killing the bugger myself.

Cheers. Cheers.

See you later. Aye! Gan canny!

Who is he? Special Branch?

I could tell you, but er... I'd have to shoot you.

We've got a present for you. Good. I love presents.

My newspaper.

Jo wants to be a tabloid editor when she grows up.

I've told her she can't do both, but she ignores me.

So who's Sam?

An eminent professor of English literature. But Sam isn't his real name.

And he's got a scam?

Examination cheating, computer-assisted. Sounds good.

And next week we hang him out to dry.

We're also hoping you might give us an in-depth interview while you're here.

We?

Caroline and I work together on these assignments.

Well, you might find my depths a bit shallow, but if you don't mind taking the chance...

We all believe in taking chances.

He's everything I hate. Everything?

Celebrity criminal and professional Geordie.

That's only two things. It's enough to keep me going.

Our speaker tonight is described by his publishers as

"the first of the rock'n'roll hackers".

His book bears the mouth-watering promise, "soon to be a major feature film".

And I know many would-be Oscar winners in this room would like to follow in those footsteps,

preferably without the intervening prison sentence.

So...

we will be listening with more than usual interest to...

..Nicky Turnbull!

Thank you, bonny lass.

If you'd told me when I was a little lad growing up in Byker

that one day I'd be speaking to the Oxford Union, I'd have said, "Don't be daft, man."

And Caroline's right. Stay out of prison.

The food's terrible.

Room service was lousy, and it's full of Chelsea supporters.

I escaped by writing a book.

Let me tell you about it.

We live in an age of information.

Cyberspace is choc-a-block with the stuff.

Half of it is accurate, but boring.