Silent Witness

Monsieur Rahul!

Il est la, mon sauveur.

Bonjour.

Merci, Monsieur.

Merci du fond du coeur.

Dieu vous benisse.

Is Mr Okoye ready for the theatre?

Morning. Morning.

Morning.

Morning. Morning.

We're down to ten fentanyl. 200.

What's he doing here?

Have we sent?

What's going on? Where's Mr Sayeed?

Oh, a change in plan.

I'm operating.

I don't think so.

Do you want to take it up with the Medical Director?

First case is a Hickman line.

PHONE RINGS

Mr Rahul?

Take a message. I'll call them back.

He says it's urgent.

Mm.

Yes, I got your little note.

Stay where you are.

Dan, get the on-call anaesthetist to come and take over.

I'm not having this.

DRAMATIC MUSIC

Silencium by John Harles

Go into the hospital and find out

what we can and can't cordon off, realistically.

All right? Off you go. Hey, Steve, you good?

It's Adam.

Dr Yuen? Forensic medical examiner.

Oh, yeah. Yeah, all right.

How you doing, Doc?

Yeah, I heard you got the DI's job. Congratulations.

Are you taking the piss?

Steve Galloway.

Detective Sergeant.

Jack Hodgson, forensics.

Nikki Alexander, pathologist.

Mm.

Our victim is a Mr Arnie Rahul,

consultant surgeon, 48 years old.

And this place is?

It's supposed to be the new operating theatre,

but they got the wiring spec all wrong so they've got to redo it all.

Our taxpayers' money at work.

Blood staining on the clothes suggests penetrating wound

to the chest.

Evidence of a struggle.

No defensive wounds.

Hands are clean.

No abrasions.

Bruising.

He fell, face down, and then moved.

Or was moved.

Smearing on the floor is consistent with this.

The assailant would have had extensive cross-contamination

with the victim's blood.

I'll say.

A lot of blood.

Extensive spatter.

Yeah. Looks like a frenzied attack.

Could be from multiple sources. We'll see.

Right.

All right.

What's this?

Smaller droplets of blood here.

This is different.

Hm. What if...

..he took a swing at his assailant...

Mm-hm? ..hits him in the face, gives him a bloody nose?

The assailant bleeds...

..continues to bleed.

SHUTTER CLICKS

Huh.

Maybe he wipes his nose with his hand,

leaves blood on the door handle

on his way out?

So not the victim's blood?

I don't think so.

Steve?

Oh, look.

Our new Detective Inspector.

Guv.

Hi.

DI Ruth Cracknell.

Hi.

So the victim was about to start an operation in theatre

number 7, upstairs,

gets a phone call, walks out,

never comes back.

And was that the last place he was seen alive?

Mm-hm. We should seal that off, then, too.

All yours, Steve.

Right.

February, March at the latest.

A word.

Emily.

How nice to see you.

Would you excuse us for a moment, please?

Is this anything to do with you?

What are you talking about?

My grant, from the Cancer Research Council.

Five years of research money, gone.

I heard.

Oh, you heard.

PHONE RINGS

Emily, what do you want?

You sit on their advisory board.

You can persuade them to reverse the decision.

That's the least you owe me.

Your funding was suspended because a key member of your team

is a total liability.

That is a lie.

Then prove it, and maybe they'll reconsider your grant.

Don't worry. I will.

PHONE RINGS

So...

..I hear they're floating your little company.

Going to make millions from my research at St Jude's?

PHONE CONTINUES TO RING Look, erm...

..shouldn't you answer that?

RINGING STOPS Listen, we don't have to be at war.

Maybe the Cowley Institute can help. How?

Well, if you've got some good projects ready to go,

maybe our foundation could step in with some funding.

Oh, I get it.

I show you all my data and you steal that as well.

Emily, Emily, Emily.

Your original stem cell work was brilliant.

Brilliant.

But for years you tried and failed to turn it into

a viable cancer treatment.

We made that crucial step.

That's all.

Everyone knows Edison didn't invent the light bulb.

He just made it work.

Edison was an arsehole.

Professor, there's an urgent call for Dr Braithwaite.

CCTV, guv.

There's a clip of him crossing the corridor from the operating theatre.

He's fully scrubbed - gloves, gown.

What's that in his hand?

Looks like a syringe and needle.

Mm. A very big, long, sharp needle.

You all right, Steve? Mm.

Well, that could be the murder weapon.

And the gloves and gown are all missing.

Yeah, we're searching all the bins in the vicinity.

Good luck with that.

Sorry?

This is a hospital.

It produces a ton of rubbish every six hours.

You think you're going to find

a pair of bloodstained gloves in that lot?

What about the needle? You'd put that in a sharps bin, wouldn't you?

Same problem.

There's a finite number of sharps bins.

And they are changed less frequently.

If we found it, we'd get DNA, maybe prints.

It might tell us the assailant's movements.

Steve, you heard the man.

Bag up every sharps bin in this hospital.

What's the time?

Mum, don't get anxious.

I'm not standing for this.

Right, I want interviews with all the staff working with

Arnie Rahul today.

And identify and inform the next of kin.

Be discreet, yeah?

Who's in charge here?

Detective Inspector Cracknell.

You are?

Dr Braithwaite, Medical Director.

I'm afraid you can't just shut down an operating theatre.

Unfortunately, it's now a crime scene and a police matter.

But we have patients needing urgent treatment.

I can get a warrant, Dr Braithwaite.

Can I suggest something?

Sorry. Nikki Alexander, pathologist.

Ah, that we seal off the theatre for...

..what do you think, four hours?

Yeah, that'd work.

Very well.

Four hours.

Not a minute longer.

Hey.

Come on. Shift.

Dr Braithwaite!

Oh! Mum, you all right?

Are you OK?

We've been waiting an hour.

Mrs Fletcher, I-I'm terribly sorry.

Come this way.

Can we get you a wheelchair, maybe?

I'm not dead yet.