Episode 5 Witless

This programme contains some strong language

-Where is the address?

-Rest assured, I am working on it.

You became a man today. Respect.

It's Appraisal, bruv!

He's just been sitting in his room being weird with a cat.

Wipe your own arse!

-Hi, Jackie.

-Summer's been making some cakes, Sarah.

They're two quid.

I'm ringing because I think we may have your cat.

I wondered if you would look after Charlie Littlepockets for me.

-It's not just

-A

-gun, Leanne. I think it's THE gun.

Adolf Eichmann, one of the most appalling

members of the Nazi regime,

lived comfortably enough in South America until 1960,

when he was captured, and quite rightly, by the Israelis.

Now, nobody's saying it's OK to be a Nazi -

quite the opposite - but from a wit-pro point of view,

you have to be impressed by the way that Eichmann,

and those like him, managed to live undercover for so long.

So, in today's session, we're going to hold our noses and ask...

I'm Detective Wilton, Mrs Pugh. This is my colleague, PC Ferns.

We spoke earlier about the cat.

So, what makes you think it's THE gun?

Think about it. It makes sense. Patrick knows the killer.

Maybe it's his cousin, an old friend, whatever...

But Patrick doesn't live in Bristol

and, as far as we know, is a student nurse

with no direct involvement in criminal activity.

So, you're saying they asked him to hide it?

I bet that's it.

Well, he is loyal. I mean, look how he phoned me back.

But then, he panics.

Maybe the police have been sniffing around?

Who does he trust to look after it?

Someone the police don't know about.

Someone he's had an intimate, though - crucially - fleeting...

-But no less spiritually significant...

-..encounter with.

BOTH: Mystique!

-So, what do we do?

-Well, we've got to take this sucker to the nearest police station.

Tell the police everything. They'll sort this out.

Phew.

Vonne, darling?

I just wanted to say I'm off now. I'm...going.

Number 32's cat. It's been all over the bloody lawn.

So, I just wanted to say goodbye.

Goodbye, darling.

I thought you said you'd put something down for it.

Well, it's not bloody worked! It's attracted it, if anything.

It's like a feline cesspit out there.

Take care of yourself, darling. I...

I love you...

..very much.

It's worse than dogs. At least a dog's ashamed of it.

-Gareth!

-What?!

Get down here now!

Sorry, I just...

I don't understand why a lost cat would be a police matter.

Why?

Never mind why, just get your arse down here!

The cat belonged to Mrs Gladys Hobbs,

who, very sadly, was murdered. Shot.

That's why this is a police matter.

We'd like to ask Gareth one or two questions,

about where he found it, that sort of thing.

Police here, Gaz. Want to talk to you.

-I'm DC Wilton, Gareth. I just...

-FERNS CLEARS HIS THROAT

This is my colleague, PC Ferns.

Mum tells me you've gone and got yourself a cat.

I just wondered how that came about.

Found it.

Round here?

So, far away from its home?

It's not that far away. It's only, like, three streets.

And how would you know where its home is, Gareth?

I'd like to bring Gareth down to the station,

if you don't mind, Mrs Pugh?

To make a formal statement.

Right, stick the gun in your bag.

Get your coat on. Let's go.

You know, recovering the murder weapon would be a

massive part of the case.

Like Cluedo.

In fact, it might even be case closed.

This whole nightmare could be over.

We could be home this time tomorrow.

-Do you think?

-Oh, my God! My new flat!

I could be in there by next week.

In fact, I should really start thinking about furniture.

Question for you -

futons - thrifty chic or shit?

What are you doing?

-Er, just putting a wash on. Colours.

-What?

So, it does while we're out, cos we're going to be packing.

-Well, come on, then.

-I know, I'm just...

Right, let's do this.

-Friend of mine said you should do it professionally.

-Do what?

Open a sorbet shop. Kiosk.

But then it becomes like a job, doesn't it?

Takes all the joy out of it.

No, making sorbet should never be a drudge.

Doesn't have to be. It's so easy.

Finally! 20 minutes late.

-Hello there, gents.

-Where's this address?

I have in my hand a piece of paper,

and I think you'll be rather pleased with its contents.

Yes, it was difficult to get hold of, but I have my ways.

And, after all, when have I ever let you down?

I believe that's what you require.

Without condoning it,

I understand you've got to do what you've got to do.

However, I'd make a late plea for the executions

to be as swift and painless as possible. Now, if you'll excuse me,

I've got a whole heap of paperwork back at the station

that ain't going to do itself.

Sit down.

You ain't going anywhere.

-Say again?

-You're not going anywhere until I get the call that it's done.

I'm meant to be at work. I'm already late.

I've given you the address. What's the problem?

The problem is, Sergeant,

I've got to check that it's legit.

Make sure you're not slipping us a fake,

and doing a runner to a hot country.

Ah, you know what?

Can I just...?

In that spirit, let me just double-check for you.

Don't want to waste your time,

going all over the place,

if I've erred.

Ah, would you look at that?

My bad, as they say.

Honestly, I'm such a bloody...sausage.

Early-onset Alzheimer's, I swear.

No, nothing to joke about. Terrible condition.

A group of us actually did a triathlon earlier in the year

-to try and raise...

-Give us the fucking address.

Yeah.

ENGINE STARTS

Ah, hi.

Not sure what the protocol is for this sort of thing,

but, um, we need to hand in a murder weapon.

Right, OK.

We're not murderers, just FYI.

Oh, no. God, no. We're not murderers, far from it.

I'm a weekday vegetarian.

But, we do have strong cause to believe that

what's in this bag was used to commit a gangland execution.

And which is the offending item? The troll thingy or the...tampon?

Sorry, sorry. It was in here.

Aaaah, I'm such a silly.

I just remembered I took it out.

Rhons, I was going to wrap it in a sandwich bag,

but then we didn't have any. So, then I thought, "Clingfilm?"

But seems a bit weird.

It's a bit kinky, clingfilm, isn't it?

We'll be back. With a murder weapon.

Within the hour.

Or it could be tomorrow. It's getting on a bit.

Maybe Monday, if you're not open. OK, bye.

You did that on purpose.

I didn't. I told you I wanted to put it in a sandwich bag.

I thought it might be helpful if we labelled it.

Patrick, that's it, isn't it? You're trying to protect Patrick.

-No.

-So, you're admitting you did do it?

Yes. OK, so, I'm sorry.

But it's not about that.

I just...

I just panicked because...

..all of a sudden, it's like this was going to end.

Yeah. So?

I mean...

..us living together.

-Oh.

-And I just thought, you know,

would it hurt if we handed it in tomorrow?

Like, one last night together.

Get a takeaway.

It's judges' houses on X Factor.

Mystique and Sarah Penn.

Leanne and Rhona.

OK. I guess one more night doesn't hurt.

And it would be less embarrassing to deal with a different officer

when we go back.

-Can we wear pyjamas?

-Yes.

-Duvet?

-No.

SHE WHINES LIKE A PUPPY

-Oh, go on, then.

-Yes!

I don't need the toilet.

-What?

-I'm saying, I don't need the toilet...

Why are you telling me you don't need the toilet?

No, I'm just thinking...

..I don't need the toilet NOW...

..but, if I do...

..what should I...?

Piss on a tree.

Yeah...

but, what if it's...

..the other one?

Right, if you're ready, then?

Can I have a coffee?

-No.

-I want a coffee.

-We can get you a...

-He don't drink coffee.

You don't know everything about me.

Yeah, so I'm finding out.

Don't make it, he'll only leave it.

We've got a Capri-Sun.

Oh, yeah, he'll have one of those, yeah.

Blackcurrant.

Right, Gareth. If you'd like to tell me, in your own words,

how you came to have this cat.

So, I heard there was this murder...

..and I went to have a look.

You know, in the house.

See if I could see the body.

And there was this cat...

..and it looked hungry and I thought, "Well...

"..she's not going to want it if she's dead, is she?"

Right. So, are we done, then?

There you are.

There's a Texaco garage about half a mile from here.

I humbly submit we go over there and buy a puzzle book.

-RADIO:

-'67969 from 53549.

'67969 from 53549. Over.'

I should really probably answer that.

Stay where you are.

I mean, yeah, I think Simon's house would be more luxurious

but I think Cheryl's house would be a home, you know?

STOMACH GROWLS

What's up?

I don't feel so good.

Washes all the time. Tongue's never off his bollocks.

Get out.

SHE COUGHS

Think it might have been something I ate.

In we go, please.

Please. Leanne, can you hurry up?

Time's fast becoming my enemy.

-I'm trying.

-I need facilities and I need them now.

-Is it number twos?

-Yes, OK? Now, can you please just...?

-Huh!

Uh-oh.

-Oh, my God.

-Ooh, do you want to go outside in the storm drain?

I can stand in front of you and tell people not to look.

No! God.

CRASHING

SHE PANTS

(Or we could do that...)

-Let's go.

-Gareth?

If you decided there was anything more you'd like to tell us,

maybe something you didn't mention because, I don't know,

you're afraid of someone...

..even if you've done something bad, if you tell us about these people,

we can look after you. Make sure you and your mum are all right.

Just something for you to think about.

Come on, then.

-RADIO:

-'67969 from 53549.

'67969 from 53549. Over.'

I can tell them I'm busy, but if I don't answer,

they'll send a car out. It's procedure.

They track the cars by GPS.

Watch your mouth. No dicking about.

53549, this is 67969.

'53549, over.'

Sorry about that, Chris.

I was just dropping the kids off at the pool.

HE CHUCKLES

Argh!

Ooh, fuck!

Oh, shit! Oh, shit!

Argh!

HE PANTS

GUNSHOT

COCKS GUN

CRASHING

'Dropping the kids off, Sarge. Very good.

'I've got a brown dog scratching at the back door,

'if you know what I mean.'

ENGINE REVS

Uh... RUMBLING

HE PANTS

'..Planting a steaming bouquet of brown roses...'

RUMBLING

'I'm stocking the pond with brown trout?

RUMBLING

'You could say, "I was building a log cabin, if you catch my drift."

'Introducing the toilet to the bald man with the cigar.'

HE PANTS

All done?

Bloody Jackie. This is her fault.

I told you, didn't I? You do not

muck around with amateur baked goods.

Ohh, I wish I had the shits, too.

Then we could be shit buddies and go in together.

Now, erm,

I need to tell you something. Please don't shout at me.

It's about where the gun is.

Where is it?

Sorry. I hope it hasn't washed off the fingerprints or anything.

It is on eco, so, fingers crossed.

I'm not going to lie to you, Leanne,

it's not ideal to give vital evidence a 90-minute bath...

..but the important thing is that we've got it.

Oh, we have to wait until the end of the cycle.

There's another 15 minutes on it.

-STOMACH GRUMBLES Oh.

-Uh-oh, more?

Oh, my God! I've just realised that's why they call it the runs.

No, it's because it's runny!

Hm.

HE KNOCKS

All right?

-You coming out?

-Ah...

..can't, mate. I'm up to my eyeballs on GTA.

Come on, mate. Get out the house.

You need some air, you're looking pale as fuck, mate.

Serious.

Well, that sounds like a plausible story to me, Wilton.

I just feel there's more he's not telling us.

I'd like to put surveillance on him for a few days.

Yeah, sure. Fill your boots.

Just remember to stick an IOU in petty cash,

£10,000 for overtime.

-Colin, just listen.

-No, you listen, Wilton.

I just had the Chief Inspector close to tears because we're struggling

to come up with the budget for the police-dog roadshow.

Now, in what universe am I going to magic money

out of my arse to put eyes on some kid because you've had a feeling?

Rhons?

Is now a bad time to discuss takeaways?

-Yes.

-Well, they will get busy if we...

-PHONE RINGS

-Oh, hold that thought.

Hello?

-HEAVY BREATHING

-Hello?

-'Yes, er, hello.'

This is a message for Misses Leanne Stubbs and Rhona Fairburn.

Oh, have we won something?

I need you to listen carefully.

Your location has been compromised.

'You must leave the premises immediately.'

Sorry, who is this?

There is a mole in the police.

Your location has been disclosed

'to your pursuants and you must leave immediately.

'Repeat, leave immediately.

'I'm...'

I'm sorry.

Ooh, Toblerone!

Got to be done.

Shi-i-it!

-What am I supposed to be looking for?

-Take your passport!

Where's your passport! I can't find my passport!

Oh, shi-i-it!

-Just get a move...!

-Found it, found it, found it!

-What are you doing?

-Can't leave without the gun,

that's our ticket home.

There's five minutes left, Rhons, we're going to have to leave it.

We need it, Leanne! Oh, fuck off.

Rhons, go to the loo.

Don't worry, I will get the gun.

Right, I'm going to take you down.

Oh, shit.

Yeah, that's it. Nice.

Ow!

Ugh! You twat!

How's it going, Leanne?

All right. I'll say this, Hotpoint know how to build a washing machine.

Argh! Shit!

Come on, have it, you bitch!

Ahh-ah!

Oww...!

So, mate...

..what's been going on?

Just been chilling.

So, there's nothing I need to know about? You know,

like, from a business point of view?

Nah.

Like what?

Like, I don't know...

..has anyone been round to speak to you about anything?

Nah. I'm dull as fuck, mate.

I couldn't do it.

-WASHING MACHINE BEEPS

-Oh!

All right, come on.

-Rhona, what are we going to do?

-Shh!

STAIRS CREAK

(Go back!) LEANNE SQUEALS

It's weird, mate, cos, er,

I thought I saw the 5-0 outside your house earlier.

Oh, yeah, that.

Yeah, they were giving my mum shit again about not having a TV licence.

What, plain-clothes?

SHE STIFLES HER BREATHING

DOOR HANDLE RATTLES LEANNE GASPS

Shh!

DOOR OPENS FLOORBOARDS CREAK

Yeah, mate. They take that shit well seriously.

THUMPING AT THE DOOR

HANDLE CONTINUES TO RATTLE

GUNSHOT

GUNSHOT, THEY WHIMPER

SLUMPING >

(Oh, God...)

Oh, bums.