MAN: He was there, there, there, there, and there.

MAN: Her name is Sarah Quin.

MAN: How did she die?

Aye.

She was strangled, was she, like those other women?

MAN: She and her husband stayed here several times, first time on their honeymoon.

He's a surgeon in London.

MAN: She used to live here.

She still owns-- WOMAN: Michael darling.

MAN: She owned a house.

We used to come up here time to time.

Whoever we're after is still out there.

Where was that?

What?

What?

Maybe boyfriend brains, just have you?

WOMAN: She is trying to step into Sarah's shoes before the poor girl is even-- Sir, routine house to house.

Cottage the other side of Rexley.

Two PCs are holding a man.

MAN: No, Eddie Brannel.

These items, Edward, how did you come to have them?

I didn't steal that.

I am the owner of the pendant.

The man we've arrested had it.

Michael?

Michael?

MAN: Ronald says he didn't do it.

What?

He thinks he's killed four women, not five.

And he knew Sarah Quin when they were children.

Bitch!

Bitch!

♪ ♪ Hmm.

That solicitor for all he blew, hopeless.

Please say you're guilty.

That'll do for him.

Eddie, Eddie?

They have said things to you.

Told you you'd owned them things.

If I haven't, how did they know?

I know where you were when she were killed.

Now, if we can prove them wrong about that, there's a chance to show they're wrong about two others.

Sarah Quin, the night she died, you were with me.

The other times, was I wicked then?

Try it again.

No reply?

We're returning Mrs. Quin's things.

Ah.

He probably thinks you're the press.

Michael?

Thank you.

I'm sorry.

I thought it was-- The press.

I know.

Banging on the door.

I tried to telephone you.

I can't even answer my own damn door.

It's all right.

It's all right.

This is very efficient.

Hmm.

She's not staying here.

She's got a television.

Hey, now don't start messing about.

I'm sorry.

I tried to telephone.

We're returning your late wife's things.

We just need you to identify and sign for them.

She must have been very fond of this, well-thumbed, Thomas Wolfe.

Well, it's probably a library book.

No, it has her name in it and a bookmark.

She'd underlined the last paragraph.

"To lose the Earth, you know, for greater knowing to lose the life."

Sir, and the clothes?

That's not my wife's.

My wife wouldn't wear something so-- what on Earth would people think?

It's the sort of thing someone who paints their toenails would wear.

That's the second time he's looked, to say the least, surprised when I've shown him some of his wife's belongings.

Thank you.

Separate lives?

I wondered that.

Double room for herself.

Booked a table for two.

I think maybe she did paint her nails when she's not with him.

They've made some mistake.

Don't reinvent her as an angel, Michael.

Catherine, I-- I wanted to say the night you-- the night I had that awful nightmare, it was the tunnel.

Does strange things to one's mind.

I was so grateful to you.

You needed to be comforted.

But it was purely friendship, yes?

The comfort of a close, caring friend but just friendship.

Can I have my medal back?

Mr. Dangerfield, Inspector Masters, sir, local CID.

Would you happen to have met the owners of this house at all?

I know you rented through an agency.

Agency?

Who told you that?

Well, the-- the late owner's husband.

Michael?

Oh, you know Mr. and Mrs. Quin?

Yes.

I've just driven down from London, putting some flowers in the church for Sarah.

You've got the bastard who did it?

Why would Mr. Quin think this place was let through an agency?

Well, Sarah probably told him that.

Michael didn't care for us terribly much.

Seems silly to have to lie about your friends, but that's marriage for you.

Why didn't he care for you?

Oh, Michael is rather proper.

We're arty types.

Dangerous Commies, all of us.

You don't look either.

Sarah and Michael just had different circles of chums.

Some interesting paintings.

Peter Levi, Judith Sayles.

This is her.

That one's a John Stockton, him.

New Year's Eve, 1950, four years and a lifetime ago.

Stockton at three minutes to midnight.

Excellent painter.

Should do more.

An overactive interest in alcohol.

Mind you, so had Judith.

It's quite a collection.

Sarah's.

Came with the house, boxes of stuff.

Picture of Sarah in a nappy somewhere, I imagine taken when she was a child, but she could be eccentric after a drink.

This man, do you-- Jan van de Perre, Michael and Sarah's chum.

What does he do?

Oh, I don't know.

Cheese, diamonds, flowers, something Dutch, Dutchman.

MAN: When was the last time she came here?

Five months ago, my birthday.

With Michael?

With her husband?

No, he's always far too busy being eminent.

Do you think I could see the other photographs you mentioned?

Search the place.

Prepare ourselves for anything the defense may say about her at the trial.

Whether she was a saint or a sinner?

We all have secrets.

I think any delving should be authorized by her husband or a search warrant.

I'd feel I was betraying a trust.

♪ How did you get it?

Edward?

From Sarah.

Policeman says .

You know, everybody thinks you killed Sarah.

I did it.

♪ MAN: Come on, boy.

Why don't you do the coffee and I'll just put the car away?

Back in a jiff.

Hey, what are you doing?

I'm doing naught.

Who's that?

A little night work, is it, Ray?

Well, just seeing if they're running.

A bit out of your way, isn't it?

She used to come here.

Sarah Quin?

Yeah, a lot still do.

How do you know there were a lot?

Watch them, did you, Ray?

We'd sometimes swing round this way.

MASTERS: You and Eddie?

You wouldn't have harmed her, though, would you, Ray?

Because of what's happened between her and the young boy, Joseph.

Just a local lad.

Didn't know how it was at home.

18, wasn't he?

All right.

Old enough to hang.

MASTERS: Was he in love with her?

Oh, he talked like a big Jessie when he talked about her.

You said that to him, didn't you?

She didn't want him.

I told him that.

Must have been a very unhappy young lad.

Left me with the other one to gaze on the rest of me days.

MASTERS: Is that how you see Eddie, the other one?

Many a time I've wished her dead because of your doing.

See what judgment that kind of wishing brings on you?

The other lad's suffering now because of her.

He didn't do it.

But he'll go for it, won't he?

She's done for both of them.

Mr. Fisher?

No, that's the name of the club.

Wyatt, Freddie Wyatt.

You?

Inspector Masters.

I telephoned.

Oh, you spoke to Madge?

She runs this bar.

She said you were looking for-- come in.

Said you're lookikng for Mr. Fisher.

Thank you.

Did Michael Quin put you on to me?

Tell you I was a friend of Sarah's?

No, I've found you in the book.

Michael Quin, no, no, not Michael.

Didn't you like him?

When did you last see Mrs. Quin?

Two weeks before she died.

We had a cup of tea in Lyons.

Would you like a cuppa?

Thank you very much.

She was off on a short holiday.

MASTERS: With her husband?

FREDDIE: No, she went alone.

How long had you known her?

FREDDIE: 15 years.

We met in a cinema queue.

Gone With the Wind.

We cried buckets on each other's shoulders in the three and nines, stayed friends ever since.

Does-- does this photograph mean anything to you?

Where did you get this?

We were a snap happy lot, Johnny Stockton with his bollocks.

Sarah had a Leica, me with my Brownie 124.

That's Edward Brannel, the man you arrested.

I took it.

New Year's Eve, 1950.

We had a party.

I caught him looking in through the window like King Kong.

When did she come back?

FREDDIE: Five minutes before 1950.

They weren't-- Lovers?

No.

Sarah had her moments, but not with him.

No, she just said he was a dear old friend.

This-- this gold chain with a cameo pendant.

Hmm.

Did she wear it often?

Yes, she wore it constantly at one time.

MASTERS: Not recently?

No, it had belonged to her mother.

So not something that she'd give away.

I wouldn't have thought so.

She'd have wanted to keep everything intact to pass on to her children, had she had any.

Her family were very keen on all that.

She did seem very fond of him.

She was crying after she left him.

Tears weren't part of her usual repertoire, more of a Judy Garland.

Always came back singing.

I imagined she was crying for the past.

But perhaps she just had something in her eye.

Sang a bloody good "Old Lang Syne."

Did a very passable conga.

That's how I prefer to remember her.

MASTERS: I don't want to keep bothering Mr. Quin.

He's clearly under great stress.

I don't know how he can go on working.

Michael's the sort of man who runs on nervous energy and cups of tea at the best of times.

We did it in the war.

Quite.

But when you're constantly in a situation where a split-second decision is the difference between a patient coming safely off the operating table or going onto a slab, well, that degree of stress, for any surgeon, exactly like the war.

And has that happened to Mr. Quin, I mean?

We're just talking.

I won't repeat anything.

No, I don't think there's anything I can-- No, I understand.

I'm not trying to pry.

- No, no, no.

I realize, I realize.

But you must understand, this is a place where delicate surgery is carried out every single day.

Well-- You can't save everybody.

Well, no you can't.

And as you've obviously guessed, that happened recently.

To one of Mr. Quin's patients?

Yes.

It was one of those awful things that couldn't be foreseen.

It was no one's fault.

It was just, well, one moment everything seemed fine.

Michael had almost finished, and the patient had a massive convulsion, like someone had thrown a switch.

Well, it shattered Michael.

He couldn't believe it.

He just walked out of the theater.

I tried to talk to him, but he-- he couldn't.

I phoned him that night.

He wouldn't answer.

He was absolutely distraught.

Oh.

Good afternoon.

Thank you .

Catherine tells me you want to know more about Sarah's cameo.

Please do sit down.

I'm sorry to go on about it, sir.

It's just a bit of clarification.

You probably read in the newspapers that the man we've arrested is mentally retarded.

It's difficult to know what's fact and what's fantasy with him.

We're not reading the newspapers.

No, I understand.

But you can imagine it's hard to talk about a murder to a man who has no memory for killing anyone.

Well, if he doesn't know what he's done, then he isn't fit to plead.

He needs help, not-- Not hanging.

Well, they reckon it's too good for him.

They reckon he's just evil.

That man has no more idea of evil than a stampeding animal when it tramples a child.

Sounds as if you've read a little bit about him.

I suppose hanging him will satisfy the public's desire for vengeance.

I do not believe in capital punishment.

Can you remember the last time your wife was wearing this?

You see, the man we're holding has claimed that he had it in his possession before she died.

How?

He knew Mrs. Quin a long time ago, when they were young.

He and his brother and she were great friends.

You didn't know that?

We know that he saw her four years ago, New Year's Eve, 1950.

The party.

He apparently came to see your wife.

You were there, sir.

Didn't she say?

No.

MASTERS: You see, if he did have this pendant before she died, it throws doubt on whether he was her killer.

But surely he killed all those others.

MASTERS: That hasn't been proven in court yet.

Do you think he could have had this?

It had been her mother's.

She wore it often, quite recently.

♪ Go on, tell me.

Five hours, 15 minutes.

Five hours, 8.

I need a drink.

I need a new watch.

Why the rush?

Well, see how quickly you can get in when you really want to.

You see, when she had the cameo pendant, it's vital to the whole-- oh, where is he?

Why is there never a barman when you want one?

I want to get on to the West Yorkshire Police.

Our Ms. Lucas says that she was in Wensleydale when Sarah Quin died.

Let's make sure.

We'll be down to the Hague again about van de Perre.

And HM customs is supposed to be checking out passenger manifests, passport control.

All right.

Perhaps it seems she was getting dressed up for-- where is he?

Maybe.

I don't know what gets the Dutch going.

Perhaps you should get out a bit more.

oh, hello.

Could I have a scotch, please?

And?

Oh, just a bottle of pop, please.

That's the order.

But first, did you see Mrs. Quin wearing this the night she was sitting in the bar?

The night she died?

No, she weren't wearing that.

Would you make that a large scotch, please?

Dressing up, a game.

There's some who might be people need that kind of thing.

And I need to speak to Eddie Randle again before his solicitor gets wind of what's going on.

OK.

Nothing.

Oh, excuse me.

Am I still in charge here or what?

What?

I've just had Michael Quin's solicitor on the phone.

One of your officers is asking questions at Mr. Quin's own hospital.

And then I get a call from a reporter on The Daily Herald.

Is Michael Quin a suspect?

Why have police quizzed husband of dead woman?

Oh, my God.

What are you playing at?

I'm just trying to establish whether Sarah Quin was wearing that pendant thing on the night she was killed.

It's looking more doubtful.

And if she wasn't, well, Brannel couldn't have taken it off her body, now, could he?

He could if she'd been carrying it in her purse from luck, like a-- Like a Saint Christopher.

You said she was superstitious.

Then why was Michael Quin so shocked?

Why did he faint when I asked him to identify it?

That pendant was the only thing that linked Brannel with the scene of the crime, and it's the one crime that is adamant that he did not commit.

I mean, there's just some-- something not right.

Yes.

You!

Look, we've got an open and shut case.

The only reason you keep nagging away at it is you can't accept some ordinary copper just stumbled on Brannel and pinched him.

That is not the case.

After all your months of hard work, it couldn't be that simple, could it?

Anyway, four murders are five.

Don't you think an animal like him deserves to die?

I had no right to say that.

I'm sorry.

Brannel, up.

Did you bring my medal?

We'll get it, Edward.

Will you help me first, like a policeman?

How long to punt from your house to here?

Five minutes?

Take half an hour by road.

Going down to the bridge along the far side past that Murray Griffin Hotel.

Easy half an hour.

And Eddie walked to work at the farm this way, didn't she, Edward?

Easy to step off onto the bank moor there.

There's a farm.

Do you remember being here, Edward?

When I was a boy.

You've been here since you were a boy, Edward.

♪ With a girl.

Does it seem a very, very long time ago?

Quite recent?

Anne Daily, she had a gold compact.

She was walking back from work, going down to the other bridge to get to this side, not long ago.

♪ It's all right.

It's all right.

Wasn't it when I was little?

No, no, you're just helping us sort it all out.

No more doubts.

I'm helping?

I'm helping.

Tales of the bloody riverbank.

Eddie?

What's this, I wonder?

Woodwalks.

Yeah.

Good place for eels, Eddie.

Then get below a weir.

Sluice.

MASTERS: You didn't come here, then?

For mud?

You had no right to do this without speaking to me first.

You're still carrying out a murder inquiry.

My client-- Your client visited the sites of five murders today.

Subsequent to that, he made a full statement-- Not with my-- --in which he-- in which he admitted to carrying out four of those murders.

You understand everything that's been said, Edward?

Is everything written here, that's been read back to you, just what you said and no more?

I helped sort it out.

Much of a challenge, was he?

Can I have my medal now?

No idea.

That hotel, the drive, the place we found Sarah Quin's body, just meant nothing to him.

But the other places did.

There would be no doubt in a jury's mind now that you've got his confession.

Well done.

Are you still certain he murdered Sarah Quin?

Are you really certain?

I want to search a house on the marshes.

All right.

Do it.

There's another picture taken with all her friends, bloke holding a clock.

Take some time after this countdown to the new year.

But I can't remember whether she was wearing this or not.

Do you really think she gave it to Brannel when he came to see her?

MASTERS: Well, if she's not wearing it, it's only minutes after the photograph was taken.

It certainly fits with Brannel's story.

I mean, her husband's the only one who says that he's seen her wearing this recently.

♪ Edward, I urge you, plead guilty to the murder of Sarah Quin.

I didn't Sarah.

Edward, we have no evidence to support that.

If you say you're not guilty of Sarah's murder, you'll be showing the judge and the jury that you're aware of what you're doing.

If you're aware of your actions, we can't say you're unfit to plead to the other charges.

I did harm the others.

I remembered when the man showed me.

I'm very sorry.

Edward, saying you killed Sarah will help us to save your life.

JUDGE: How do you plead to the murder of Wendy Cutforth?

EDWARD: Guilty.

JUDGE: The murder of Maureen Hunter?

EDWARD: Guilty.

JUDGE: Murder of Anne Daily.

EDWARD: Guilty.

JUDGE: The murder of Mary Trent Hyde?

EDWARD: Guilty.

JUDGE: The murder of Sarah Harriet Quin?

I didn't kill Sarah.

I didn't.

I didn't harm Sarah.

I believe you.

But sometimes the truth is-- they're all talking about you up there, you know?

They thought you were gonna say something else.

Are they sorting it out?

She used to read to me.

She was a mum.

Joe was a dad.

I have told the truth.

I know that.

I brought you something.

I'm sorry I couldn't get the chain.

Hey, now, don't tell anybody.

See you again.

Not over.

Uh, what's your name?

Masters, Stephen Masters.

OK. What did he say?

He thinks it's the one she gave to him.

Luckily, all cameos look alike.

Nice thought though, sir.

What?

From the man who got the confessions out of him?

It's the least I could do, the very least.

Now man.

It's your time.

♪ we're getting married.

MASTERS: Children's games.

Everything in Sarah Quin's family was passed down through the female line.

Sarah had no children, so who did she have to pass the pendant onto?

Sarah was the mom.

Joe was the dad.

Eddie was the baby.

But why give it to him?

She was married, young enough to have kids.

Well, her pal Freddie said that she was crying when she came back from seeing Brannel.

Crying for the past or the present?

♪ MAN: Pick that up.

No, it's not a real one.

Should I check guesthouses as well?

MASTERS: Well, I don't think Sarah Quin was at the guest house, so-- Wouldn't she have stayed at her aunt's old place with her friends?

Look, forensics says she hadn't been there for the past five months.

But if all the weekends away from her husband were spent with her lover, well, she must have gone somewhere.

Jan van de Perre just come in.

Travel to this country five times in the past 12 months.

Harwich Ferry.

Had not, however, at the time of Sarah Quin's murder.

And even if he had, he wouldn't be tucked up with her in some cozy hotel hideaway.

Hmm.

No.

It seems unlikely that she'd be getting herself dressed up for him.

Oh, but he'd appreciate it if she did.

Funny old life.

So, for who?

Had any more thoughts, Ray?

Aye, plenty, and give the lad an alibi.

And it's the truth.

But then don't believe me?

I've damned him from the day he were born.

Halfwit.

And the boy never had much love, did he?

And after the night that house was torched, the last hope he had went up in flames.

Didn't it, Ray?

Well, there's something there that could have helped him.

A photograph?

I think it could.

Saved him?

Possibly.

Sure he was telling the truth.

Saved him?

Well, that night's work damned him for all time, didn't it?

And you got him to confess to all .

We'd done that boy proud between us, haven't we?

Hello.

Yes, it is.

It's Inspector Masters, sir.

I think I'm gonna have to speak to you again and your friends about the death of Sarah Quin.

I see.

A gift.

A gift to her.

Yes.

Speaking.

My name is John Stockton.

I think I should speak to you.

What a coincidence.

I just got to you, Mr. Stockton.

She was waiting for you the night she was killed?

Yes.

Your work?

Only the bookmarks.

But you gave her the book?

Yes, she wallowed in it.

Romantic sadness for a time lost but still traveling on in hope.

That hotel, she'd spent her honeymoon there, had she?

Visited its since with her husband.

I couldn't understand why that place, the dress.

To turn heads.

No more hiding.

Do something that Michael could no longer ignore.

She said she was gonna book a table for two in the center of the room, possibly even dance on it.

He didn't want her to leave him, you see?

He knew.

She told him.

The very idea of divorce scandalized him.

Catholic, you see, the sin and shame, guilt.

Michael is a man who'd rather die than live through a scandal.

And that she should choose somebody like me-- will you take?

No, no, thank you.

The flaunting of our affair, the love child, he didn't think she'd go quite that far.

That hotel, we really were gonna try a pilgrimage.

But you didn't go?

No, I went to the Arts Club and got rat-arsed with five hand-picked pals.

Why didn't you come forward when you knew she was dead?

I was ashamed.

I still wouldn't if you hadn't terrorized Freddie and Will Dangerfield on the telephone.

Leave them alone.

There are problems enough being illegal.

MASTERS: Then you should have come forward.

Shame.

You tell someone you love them, you want them.

I did, but I didn't have the guts to see through with her, one thing she wanted more than anything else.

Sarah was desperate to have a child, something to love, something that might truly love her.

Why not children with her husband?

The only child Michael wanted in that house, in that marriage, was himself.

He's so precious, I'm amazed he doesn't have himself polished and locked up at night.

Maybe he does.

Darling?

I have to talk to someone.

I-- I can't.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

Shh, shh, shh, shh.

Michael, Michael, you are so precious.

Michael, you are so valuable.

You don't know me at all.

Yes, I do.

I-- I think I know all of you.

And I'm here for you, Michael.

And I'll be strong when you can't be.

Michael, I'll be everything for you.

I did love her, you know.

It's the idea of children I couldn't-- MASTERS: All Sarah's photographs gone.

Must have been very painful for you living surrounded by photographs taken by her lover.

Yes.

But not as painful as being told that she was going to leave you and go to him and spend their first weekend at the hotel where you spent your honeymoon.

Was she always so cruel?

No.

No, we were very happy once.

MASTERS: But it stopped.

Not for me.

The night your wife died, you didn't leave the hospital at 5 o'clock and come here to sleep.

In your state of mind, you weren't gonna sleep.

Your patient died on the operating table at exactly 3:05.

That's-- I've seen the almoner's report.

You left the hospital shortly before 4 o'clock.

One of your colleagues telephoned you here that evening with no reply.

You weren't here, were you?

The patient's age.

Did you see that?

12 years old.

Her name was Helen.

She lived in a filthy, overcrowded tenement, hardly had a chance at life.

Her parents said they were sure I'd done all I could.

She died because I got it wrong.

I wasn't thinking of anything other than my wife.

MASTERS: In a hotel room with another man.

♪ Sarah, please, I'm sorry.

Oh, God.

MICHAEL: I must talk to you.

No, just leave me alone.

Please, Sarah, darling.

Don't, darling.

Darling?

- I hate you!

You must talk to me, please.

Please, I need you now.

I truly need you.

I need you.

I want him!

I don't want you!

I want him!

Don't touch me.

Listen to me.

Get away from me!

MICHAEL: Listen!

SARAH: MICHAEL: Listen!

Listen!

MASTERS: And the man being tried for his life, Edward Brannel, should he hang for that crime?

That would be the crime.

I loved her so.

And you couldn't bear to lose her?

Michael!

Leave him alone.

Get out.

Go on, get out!

Please, go.

The power to save a life.

JUDGE: Edward Brannel, you have been found guilty of the murders of Anne Daily, Wendy Cutforth, Maureen Hunter, Mary Trent Hyde, and Sarah Harriet Quin.

As punishment for this crime, you shall be taken from this court to a place of execution, where you shall be hanged by the neck until you are dead.

Sir?

Hmm?

Left at the desk.

All right.

Thank you.

"Lest we forget.

JS."

John Stockton.

And I won't forget, Mr. Stockton.

"They came to him an"-- "They came to him an image of man's whole life upon the Earth.

It seemed to him that all man's life was like a tiny spurt of flame that blazed out briefly in an inimitable and terrifying darkness."

♪ He knew his life was little and would be extinguished.

And he knew that he would die with defiance on his lips, and that the shout of his denial would ring with the last pulsing of his heart into the maw of all-engulfing night."

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪