City Homicide

Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven.

She made a decent job of it.

We're supposed to be Homicide, not suicide.

Yeah, all traffic diverted to May Street.

What's the story?

Her name's Natalie Pierce. That's her husband up there.

He reckons she jumped.

No witnesses? We only just got here.

Do you want to canvass down here? Me and Simon can talk to the husband.

Sure.

We'll do the link over there. Get the building.

Can't you cover her up? The crime team's running late.

Cover her up anyway. Yeah, right.

They're gonna love that.

My responsibility. Matt Ryan.

Bond. James Bond. Piss off!

Mr Pierce. I'm Detective Ryan.

This is Detective Joyner.

We're sorry for your loss.

She jumped.

She jumped out there.

She climbed up on the rail.

I don't know, she said... she said she was sorry and she jumped.

You didn't try to stop her?

How?

I woke up this morning. I was on the couch.

She was already out there on the balcony.

Any idea why sh?

Every bloody idea!

These last couple of months I wanted to do it myself.

Half a dozen times.

We had a fire and we lost both our kids.

I thought Natalie was just starting to get over it.

I come home from work last night she's bloody hysterical.

She's crying.

Why do you think she waited until this morning to, er, jump?

Because there was a bloke here.

Just as I'm getting home from work he was leaving.

I don't know what the bloody hell he said to her.

I was too hurt.

I was too late.

Rita Solomon. Mm-hm.

I live on the fourth floor.

Do you know these people?

Yeah, Natalie was my friend.

I know what happened.

He killed her. Her husband.

What? Did you see it?

No, I didn't have to see it.

That prick killed her.

Well, you didn't see it so how do you know she didn't jump?

You bastard!

You finally got what you wanted! Shut up, Rita! Shut up!

You finally put an end to her. You've got no idea!

You bastard! You killed her!

You made her jump!

Sir.

So, Mr Pierce, this mystery man was coming out of your apartment?

No, no.

He was getting in the lift as I was... as I was getting out.

How'd you know he come out of your place?

Because at the same time, my, my front door was just clicking shut.

And then I turned to... to look back at the lift

and the lift was closing as well.

Ah, you were too late. Again.

What next?

Well, I went inside the flat and Nattie's hysterical.

I asked her what was going on.

I said, "What's going on? What's going on?"

But she wouldn't talk to me.

She just locked herself in the bedroom.

This man you say you saw. I did see him. I did see him.

Mm-hm. What did he look like?

I don't know, it was just a second.

Just... ordinary bloke.

Tall.

Um, dark hair, d-dark... dark-framed su... er... glasses on.

Sounds like Clark Kent.

You a Superman fan, Craig?

Like a what?

Mate, you made this up on the way over here, didn't you?

It's a big mistake - overembellishing.

I didn't kill her.

You were close friends.

What did you talk about?

Oh... about her kids, mainly.

They died in a house fire and he blamed her.

He hated her.

She was miserable all the time.

You said that he blamed her for the children dying. Why was that?

She was having an affair at the time.

Who with?

How would I know? I never met him.

Bloody like to though. Mongrel.

She never told me his name.

But it had been going on for a while, up until the fire.

And, er, she had this guilt.

Because she was with him.

She was with him when my kids died.

So, yes, I blame her! Yes, I blame her!

Did you kill your wife, Mr Pierce?

Oh, I wanted to. I bloody wanted to.

I love my wife.

I love her, you know, even after everything that happened.

It's got to have something to do with that bloke

that I saw getting into the lift.

How about I get someone in here

to help us put together a picture of this man, hmm?

If there's anything you'd like to add to your statement,

you can call me anytime.

OK. Thanks, Rita.

Thanks.

He does look like Clark Kent.

Ah, he doesn't exist, Sarge. Pierce made him up.

No, no. He could be genuine.

No, look, Pierce blames his wife for their kids, right?

She was out screwing her boyfriend

when she should have been looking after them.

So he moves her into the high-rise and he keeps at her.

He keeps playing on her guilt

until she can't take it anymore - it's payback.

That's what Rita Solomon reckons went down.

Good luck proving it.

Hmm. No, Matt's right, the DPP'd laugh us out the door.

Anything else? Any witnesses?

Yeah, uniforms canvassed the occupants

of the surrounding tower blocks, but they struck out.

Hmm. OK.

Get this copied and distributed.

The autopsy report should be in tomorrow.

Jennifer, you can pick that up on the way in.

And, Simon, interview rooms are for interviews.

You want to eat your lunch, go somewhere else and eat it.

Sorry, Sarge.

That'd be fine if we actually got a lunch break.

? Alala, alala

? Would you be kind...?

? Gimme one little more... ?

Oh, my God!

Oh! Oh!

Oh! Oh... my...

...God!

Oh!

Oh.

This would be so much easier in a hotel.

Yeah. Much more traceable.

We'd pay cash.

Why? This is more exciting.

Oh.

I'll pay for the room, Simon. I can afford it.

No. No, your husband will find out.

That's what he does for a living.

He's going to find out anyway,

if I don't get home before he does.

Come on. Quick sticks!

? I'm so worried

? I bought that posh clothing

? But it still looks ugly

? Alala, alala

? Am I stupid

? I'm doing the talking

? But I don't get nothing

? Alala, alala... ?

No pre-mortem bruising.

No sign of a fight or a struggle.

Grazes on the back of both legs

consistent with sliding over a balcony railing.

Looks like a suicide, from all the physical evidence.

Well, physical evidence doesn't tell us

what's going on up here, though, does it?

I'd say it pretty much covers it.

Oh, you think so, do you?

"My wife's gone to the Bahamas."

"Jamaica?"

"No, she went of her own accord."

Did she jump of her own volition,

or did her husband talk her over the edge?

And what about this character? Does he exist?

If so, what is his involvement?

Well, maybe he was an ex-Iover

and he's gone over there to try to resurrect the relationship.

Hmm. Possibility. Anything else?

One thing. We checked her phone records.

The last call she made was to a Dr Patrick Swain - plastic surgeon.

Yeah, she had a boob job. It's in there.

They, er, don't do too well in a fall, apparently. Implants.

No, but they can be dated using serial numbers.

That's, er, in there too.

Natalie Pierce had that operation almost a year ago.

Why would she contact her plastic surgeon after such a long time?

Especially when she's about to commit suicide.

Good question. Maybe you should ask him?

Get your hand off it, Sherlock. It wasn't that big a deal.

You missed it.

Yeah, well, boobs aren't my thing, are they?

I'm more of an arse man.

Right.

I didn't actually speak to Mrs Pierce...

She left a message on my mobile.

Saying what?