The first 200 lines.
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Sexy young model, drugs, murder...
The tabloids couldn't have dreamt of a better story.
Straight after the cremations, her ashes are all yours.
What do you say to someone who's suffered a loss like that?
I wouldn't know where to start.
- If this silencer was on the gun... - That's a big if.
- There's blood on it. - It's a hunting rifle!
- How tall was she, Sheila? - Five foot seven and a half.
I can't reach it.
He shot all of them with the silencer on, including Sheila.
Brett! Look at you.
Man, it's good to see you.
Ah, you look amazing.
You look amazing!
Jeremy met him when he was travelling in Australia.
I want to thank the Coroner for giving us back our family.
My mother and father will all be laid to rest as soon as possible.
If them bodies get released, Jeremy Bamber plans to cremate them.
That's evidence up in smoke.
389, 390 and that's 400.
- Pleasure doing business. - What about the medals?
Well, as I said, medals aren't really my area.
Oh, come on, you can on-sell them. Make us an offer.
- I'll give you 50. - No, I think I'd rather keep them.
60.
- 55 and that's my last word. - Done.
He must've been very brave, your dad.
Until probate clears, you'll need cash.
Luckily, Uncle Brett was here to make it happen.
You're a cheeky bastard.
Well, now we can have champagne with lunch.
Jem, you should have said something if you wanted to keep them.
I didn't.
I was just trying to get the extra ten quid out of him.
Oi, Cookie!
- Give us a sec, Fred. - Morning, Stan.
What the hell's this?
Well, it's the Bamber case,
the final test results for the blood in the silencer.
I know that!
The preliminary report had it as Sheila Caffell's blood group.
- This says maybe not. - Well, we were testing for an enzyme,
which would indicate Sheila's blood group was present in the sample.
- And it says here you found it. - But then we repeated the test.
It turns out you get the same reaction
when two different blood groups are mixed together.
- Nevill and June's blood groups. - We'll make a SOCO of you yet, Stan.
But I'd still say it's 90% likely it was Sheila's blood.
But on this test we can't be completely sure.
Fine. What about the hair that was stuck to the silencer?
- There's no mention of that. - Because we didn't find a hair.
- You're telling me you lost it? - Us?
You brought the thing wrapped up in a cardboard roll.
Have you ever heard of evidence bags?
Regardless of what group it is, the presence of human blood
suggests that the silencer was used in the killings.
If the silencer was on the gun when the shooting started,
why would Sheila stop and take it off?
Because, when she came to shoot herself,
- she couldn't reach the trigger. - But it was put away in a cupboard.
You really think she'd do that?
No.
But that's what the defence'll argue, if this ever gets to court.
Hang on a minute, where's this come from?
It's been here the whole time, I think.
When the boys cleaned up the place, they found it under some papers.
- Apparently, it's a spare. - Says who?
Jeremy.
Who keeps a spare phone sitting around?
Jeremy says that the usual kitchen phone is being repaired, so...
If this is a spare, and the usual kitchen phone's being repaired...
...where did this one come from?
A phone jack.
This used to be here, by the bed.
Look, the table's all faded where it used to sit.
And that's why June came to this side of the bed,
- looking for a phone. - But it wasn't here.
It'd been moved downstairs to stop them calling for help.
OK, but Nevill did call for help.
- At least, according to Jeremy. - From downstairs.
Sure. But all this still fits with Jeremy's story.
Does it?
Nevill was shot eight times. Four upstairs, four down.
We know the upstairs shots happened first.
He was bleeding when he came down.
One of the eight shots was to the mouth.
Through his cheek. Nearly severed his tongue.
So how did he talk to Jeremy on the phone?
The shot to the mouth must have happened later,
in the kitchen, after he'd phoned.
OK.
But the four shots in the top of his head, closely grouped,
fired in quick succession.
You're telling me they were fired from here
into the top of his head?
They must have been killing shots, fired downstairs,
after he was beaten.
So the other four shots, including the one to the mouth,
were inflicted up here before he had access to a phone.
So you tell me...
- ...how did he speak to Jeremy? - You're right.
- You've got to go to Taff. - Not Taff. Not this time.
Detective Sergeant, the Regional Superintendent will see you now.
So, tell me.
Well, sir, I feel things may be going awry
with the Bamber investigation.
The funerals are tomorrow, and the bodies'll be burned...
- Cremated. - Either way, they'll be gone.
Along with any forensic evidence they might yield.
Evidence of what?
I mean, you don't believe this rubbish in the papers
- about drug gangs and hitmen. - No, sir.
But you've got your own theory.
There are a number of things which point quite strongly to the son.
Jeremy Bamber.
I've put together a brief, indicating areas of concern.
I'm more than happy to talk you through them,
give you some background.
I feel it's imperative that we do all we can
to prevent the cremations.
He's certainly been getting a lot of sympathy in the media.
- Bamber, I mean. - He has, sir.
And I feel it's misplaced.
I'm told Miss Caffell wasn't drugged,
aside from her regular medication.
Wasn't restrained, wasn't bound, and yet you say...
...that her suicide was somehow faked.
That is a difficult aspect of the case, I'll admit.
- But the evidence I've outlined... - This evidence.
- I take it you've presented it to your DCI? - I did, sir.
But he shares none of your qualms?
Early on, DCI Jones came to the view it was murder suicide.
He's never moved, despite contrary evidence becoming available.
In essence, Detective Sergeant,
you're saying your senior officer is incompetent.
I'm saying he has closed his mind to...
...alternative scenarios.
As it happens, I spoke to DCI Jones, after you requested this meeting,
and he briefed me on the investigation.
I want you to know he has my complete confidence.
He also told me you've been making trouble from the start.
- I don't see it that way. - Don't you?
Well, perhaps you'd better start seeing it that way.
He said six.
Right. It's only a few minutes after.
There you are.
Right, now, you're both going to have to take your food upstairs.
- But I want to hear what the policeman says. - Upstairs, now.
You too, Michael, please, thank you. Off you go.
Detective Sergeant, please, come in, sit down.
Thank you, I'm fine standing.
- Can I offer you a drink? - No, thank you.
- Something to eat? - No, really.
- A nip of whisky, at least. - You should know it's bad news.
The funerals are going ahead.
What?
I'm sorry, it's been given due consideration,
and that is the decision.
What about the new evidence, the silencer?
The forensics on the silencer are inconclusive.
And... And Jeremy's behaviour.
The way he's stripping my aunt's home, selling everything off.
The stuff he's selling, is it yours?
You know it's not.
Then, how is it your business what he does with it?
- You said you'd help us. - I said I'd look into it. And I have.
But the police force is a big machine, I'm just one cog.
Once more, I'm sorry. I should let you get on with your dinner.
I taught my children to trust in the police.
What a mistake that was.
I'll see you out, then.
Ah!
Well, the cavalry arrives, at last!
Yeah, there's more in the car if you want to get off your bum and help.
A quick nip first.
Fortify us for the hard labour ahead.
You know, that's meant for the wake.
Well, we'd best road test it, then, hadn't we?
Wouldn't want to serve inferior grog to those in mourning.
I'd like to propose a toast.
Even on a sad occasion as this, the light of love shines through.
- To the engaged couple. - Engaged?
- I'll drink to that! - Jesus, Brett...
- Oh, my God, I didn't know. - We're not bloody engaged, all right?
- Not even close. - Oh, apologies.
Just my romantic spirit getting away from me.
It's good whisky.
I'm going to bed.
- Hey, Jules... - Hey.
Do you know how much this bloody stuff cost?
So, what of it?
So, we're all going to stay here and we're gonna drink it.
All right?
Lovely night. Fancy a drink in the moonlight?
Yeah. I'll be out in a minute.
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