Part 2 Silent Witness

This programme contains some violent scenes and some scenes which some viewers may find upsetting

Over a hundred women are killed every year by a husband or partner.

Jagged depressions on the skin

suggests a blade with a serrated edge.

The knife we found has a flat blade.

The tip of your broken, flat-bladed knife.

Nothing happened! I didn't do anything!

Are you using again?

What?

If Roly Henderson's guilty,

his ten-year-old daughter lost both her parents today.

Think somebody came through there?

What?

Broken shelf under a window.

Four years ago, Eleanor Marshall was bludgeoned to death

at a picnic site ten miles from here.

And her husband, Simon Marshall, claimed that she'd been killed

by a stranger who cut off her finger using a hunting knife.

Somebody did this, and he's still out there.

We had no idea who we were letting into our lives.

That man killed my husband and my daughter.

PHONE RINGS

Here she is.

I hear you took time out of your day to speak to a convicted murderer?

Simon Marshall. That's right.

Was it connected to Joanne Henderson's murder?

That's what I'm trying to establish.

That's not your job.

Well, it's someone's job.

Are you working for the defence now?

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

If it gets out at Henderson's trial that you pursued other

lines of inquiry after he was charged,

the defence will exploit that, don't you get it?

Can I have a word, Detective Inspector?

In private?

How much do you weigh?

What?

My guess, about eight stone soaking wet?

Right, I'm going now.

No way you broke that shelf, Kate.

You found it like that in the cupboard.

I know, cos I went back and found this.

Question.

Why would an able detective suppress evidence of a forced entry?

Answer, because Roly Henderson wouldn't have broken in

through his own toilet window.

Fortunately, I bagged the shelf

-so in terms of the physical evidence nothing's been compromised.

-Good.

Yeah, please don't think for one moment I did that to protect you.

Your Dad's a bully.

I got that in ten seconds of meeting him.

Please don't try and read me, Jack.

Oh, I think I've got the guts of it.

You had some substance issues, your dad threw you a lifeline,

now he's micromanaging your comeback to the point

where you're seriously considering getting blitzed again?

But my guess is,

it was Dad who drove you to the hard stuff in the first place.

Say something.

I'm sorry.

Not good enough.

Nowhere near.

A man's life is at stake, Kate, and you suppressed evidence.

Do you want my head on a block?

I'll settle for total cooperation.

Specifically where Dr Alexander's concerned.

-Jack...

-No.

She's forging a strong case that Joanne Henderson

was killed by a convicted murderer called Alan Lane.

Now, if you don't give this your full consideration then, believe me,

that axe is coming down.

We got off on the wrong foot.

I want to hear all about Alan Lane.

If you really mean that, the person you need to speak to

is former Detective Inspector Anne Percival.

OK.

In fact, I think I'd like to talk to her, too.

Do you, er, do you mind me asking why?

Professional interest.

She sent Alan Lane down for murder without a corpse.

PHONE RINGS

Excuse me.

Yeah?

'Anne Percival?'

'This is Detective Inspector Kate Warren.'

I need to talk to you about an old case.

You're not related to that wanker DCC Warren, are you?

Distantly, yeah. He's my dad.

What old case?

Imogen Lane.

Miss Percival?

I'm here.

-OK, bye, darling.

-Bye.

Why am I talking to a pathologist?

You didn't say anything about a pathologist.

My questions relate to Imogen Lane's murder, if that's OK?

So when did you first meet Alan Lane?

Christmas Eve, 1993.

I suspected he'd murdered Derek MacNeil, Imogen's father.

There is a possibility that another vehicle was involved.

The accident investigators are working on it.

DOOR OPENS

DOOR CLOSES

I just heard. I'm so sorry.

Alan Lane. I'm Imogen's husband.

DI Anne Percival.

Did Derek have any enemies?

Disgruntled employees?

Friends, relatives, that he'd fallen out with?

Derek didn't have an enemy in the world.

Alan's right.

Dad didn't have an enemy in the world.

'Nothing panned out.'

Edith wouldn't talk,

Accident Investigators' findings were inconclusive.

But you got another shot at Lane after Imogen went missing.

When you searched the farm, you found blood in the boot of Lane's car.

Yeah, a lot.

What about the severed fingertip?

Sniffer dogs led us to an old electricity substation

behind the farm.

We found Imogen's bloody sweatshirt, the severed finger

and a knife with Alan Lane's prints on the handle.

Did you find any more blood in the substation?

The pathologist said the finger was cut off posthumously

so that was no surprise.

Did the pathologist offer an opinion as to whether

the substation was the primary crime scene?

No.

No?

Were there any drag marks leading in or out of the substation?

No. But we did find Lane's broken watch,

Imogen's blood and hair snagged on the buckle.

The substation backed onto a wood.

We found fresh mud and pine needles on a spade in Lane's garage

and er, fibres that matched Imogen's bloody sweatshirt.

But no Imogen?

And Lane maintained his innocence from the start?

He was sure if there was no body we had no case.

And I wasn't sure he was wrong.

We found this in a disused substation behind your house.

Do you think you could help us find the rest?

I'm innocent.

There's a very good reason why you can't find a body.

She's not dead.

He's killed again, hasn't he?

Look at you.

Are you..?

I've been to see a Detective Inspector Warren tonight.

The police are linking Alan to a live murder case.

What case?

Your Mum's fine. I made sure of it on the way over.

OK.

You sent her flowers, didn't you?

I didn't use a credit card and I delivered them myself.

That was a crazy risk, Janice.

Your mum's 70th is exactly when he'd expect you to break cover.

But that's why I waited a week until after her birthday...

Oh, yes, and that's such a smart chess move

he wouldn't anticipate it. Get in, quickly.

What the hell did you say to Warren to make her my new best friend?

I impressed on her the importance of an open mind.

What else?

I urged her not to let Dad's influence

limit the scope of her inquiry.

And she was predisposed to listen to you because...?

Because of my sage-like wisdom, I suppose.

Bullshit.

To be continued.

-Night-night.

-Night.

If he's taking revenge on innocent people,

that's blood on my hands.

Our hands.

Police, well, it doesn't sound like they've got much,

but I've no doubt he's guilty.

So you think he's killing these women because he can't find me?

Janice, I'm going to make sure

that he can never hurt anyone ever again.

No.

No, he'll kill you!

We can't meet each other again.

What?

We'll go together. I'll come with you.

Karen needs you.

-Barely, these days.

-She needs you.

Just...

Call me when it's...

Just let me know you're OK?

Hey. Who's there, hmm?

Janice? Or Imogen?

Janice.

Janice.

All thanks to you.

Mr Lane, I'm Detective Inspector Warren.

Imogen Lane's severed fingertip.

Little finger, left hand.

Amputated at the inter-phalangal joint.

Just like Joanne Henderson and Eleanor Marshall.

Except they were missing their fingers. Imogen was missing her body.

The exception that proves the rule?

Maybe not. Back in 1994, judging whether or not a wound

was pre or post-mortem was a science of observation.

-No Leukotriene B4 testing to guide us.

-Exactly.

Now, the pathologist who examined this finger believed that

in the absence of inflammation, it was cut off after death.

Tiny bleeding vessels suggestive of life.

And there's some kind of a translucent coating

to the skin surface.

The fingertip's been preserved so I should be able to identify it.

But is it evidentially important

whether the finger was removed before or after death?

When no body is recovered, it could be evidentially fundamental.

PHONE RINGS

Hello?

'Dr Alexander.'

'You said Joanne's killer might have defensive scratches, right?'

Coppers get it special bad inside.

Still. Character building, in its way.

Hands.

You've charged Roly Henderson. What are you doing arresting this guy?

I'm making double sure Roly's our man.

You're giving his defence a free shot, that's what you're doing.

What's your old man going to say, eh?

No idea, but I'm struggling to see how it's your problem.

Or your business.

I need to photograph your back.

Did you inherit any of your father-in-law's guns when he died?

Derek only had the one shotgun and it was stolen.

So you never used it? Or helped yourself to some of the cartridges?

No. I don't like guns.

What about motorbikes?

Is that a question?

Have you ever owned a motorbike?

Yes, a 750 Suzuki.

But I sold it after I hit a deer in the New Forest.

I was fine, but the deer was pretty mangled.

Blood everywhere. Turned out it was pregnant.

Little wet packages all over the road.

I had to break its neck with my bare hands.

Were you in a pub called The Dove three nights ago?

I drive around a lot.

I mean, I go all over...

Were you in a pub called The Dove in Brasted, Kent, three nights ago?

Not that I recall. But as I said, I'd go all over.

Wherever the mood takes me.

No schedule. No route.

Jack, we have to prove that Lane was in that pub.

You need to print the whole bar and fast,

because Warren has nothing to hold him on.

I was just going on my lunch break.

Oh, Jack!

Relax. Printed the bar and bar stool,

spinning the results through as we speak.

I have to go.

Mr Lane, I'm asking about your movements three nights ago.

I find it hard to believe that you can't recall where you were.

I could check my petrol receipts.

If you want?

I always keep them. No law against that, is there?

Can I help you?

A word.

What are you doing? Bringing in a convicted murderer?

Hedging your bets?

I'm trying to establish the truth.

We know the truth. Henderson killed his wife. End of.

The case against him is a gift. A gift.

Look, there are significant forensics commonalities

that I'm trying to see if...

What? Fingerprints on an old shotgun cartridge wadding

that doesn't even link to your case?

We have three female victims who all had their fingers severed

at the distal interphalangeal joint

and were killed within ten miles of each other.

Dr Alexander, pathologist.

Thank you for your contribution.

Release this man, build your case on Henderson.

This is your chance to prove all your doubters wrong.

It won't come again, Katie.

All my doubters?

Are you one of them?

Thanks, Roger. I appreciate your loyalty.

So I had a word with your old man.

I did you a favour.

Kate.

Just hold him for another hour. Please.

Why?

Jack's looking to see if his prints were at the pub as we speak.

If he finds them, Lane just lied under caution.

It's your case, Kate.

You're free to go.

PHONE RINGS

Jack?

Got them. We have Lane's prints.

On the bar?

No, bar stool.

He was lying. We found his prints on a bar stool.

You need to get him back now.

It's not enough.

It's enough to hold him and that's all we need.

He'll say he had a drink there three months ago

and left his prints then.

What are you, his brief now?

No, I'm merely predicting how his brief will respond.

Roly Henderson is facing life in prison for a crime he didn't commit.

Emma Henderson is being assigned temporary foster parents!

Which is even less your concern than mine. You need to disengage from this case.

-Forget it. Not a chance.

-Goodbye, Dr Alexander.

If Lane walked into Warren's office covered in human entrails

she wouldn't arrest him.

Unless you can change her mind, Jack?

Lane knows that we're onto him.

What's the betting that he tries to relocate?

Pastures new. A fresh supply of victims.

Roly Henderson and Simon Marshall didn't just look guilty

in terms of forensics and pathology.

Roly yelled at his wife in front of the pub full of people

and Simon Marshall beat his wife up.

He's not choosing them at random, he's sourcing them.

Lane was present when the row kicked off between Roly and Joanne.

But how did he know about Simon Marshall?

Simon, I don't think you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I think you were followed by the biker to the lake.

You mean he chose me?

What we need to understand is how, and where.

When you attacked Eleanor, was there anyone else present?

Now you want to see me squirm?

No, I just want to understand why you were chosen.

Eleanor came home from work,

and she started talking about some bloke at the office.

It just set me off.

So it all happened inside your house?

Yeah.

No witnesses?

I came to my senses. I drove her to A&E.

The nurse wanted to call the police, but Ellie wouldn't let them.

So there was a bit of a scene?

Yeah. Everyone was watching, everyone knew what I'd done.

-Did anyone say anything?

-No.

You think he was there, don't you?

Possibly.

Think, Simon. Did anything strange happen between then

and the time that you left?

'When I was walking Eleanor back to the car...'

'I thought someone was following us.'

Can I help you, mate?

'He had his hood up, but I thought I saw him in A&E.'

Could it have been him?

It was four years ago.

FOOTSTEPS

Hello, Anne.

Why are you pointing a gun at me?

I didn't kill her.

But I think you know that.

Where is she, Anne?

She's safe.

Oh!

Where is she? Where is she? Where's my wife?

You're going to die. How much pain you suffer first is up to you.

She's dead. You killed her.

No, Anne, I didn't!

Aaah!

Aaah!

Where's your phone? Where's the phone?

Call her.

Call her!

PHONE RINGS

Hello?

Hello?

Anne?

Anne?

Ah!

'Ah! Ow!'

I thought you'd forgotten about me.

I wanted to take you out before,

I just had to fill out loads of forms before they'd let me.

I'm going to meet my foster parents tomorrow.

I'm worried I won't like them.

Do you want an ice cream?

Her name's, er, Anne Percival. She used to be a detective.

And she's being held by a man called Alan Lane

and he's going to kill her!

Call Detective... Detective Warren.

Yeah, Detective Inspector Warren. She knows everything!

-That one?

-Yeah.

-This one for you.

-Thanks.

That's £2.50, please.

Lovely, thank you. Come on, boys.

See anything you like?

Er, madam?

Sorry, I've got to go.

Emma?

Emma?

What happened to the ice creams?

I'll get them now.

Was it your idea? It was, wasn't it?

No, Alan. It was all hers.

Liar.

Do you honestly think I would've sanctioned a course of action

where she cut off her own finger?

Yeah, that's right, she hated you that much.

I just did my job.

That's how I knew she was alive.

How? How did you find her?

I'm a good detective, Alan.

How did you find her?

The watch. The bloody clothes. The knife. The finger.

Why would you hide Imogen's body so well

and leave such an obvious trail?

SHE COUGHS

Water.

Water, I need water.

No water. Not yet.

I went through Edith's phone records.

There were calls to a caravan park in North Wales

a week before Imogen disappeared.

She and her dad used to go canoeing there.

Go on.

I thought it might have been a holiday fling

she'd kept in contact with.

A man?

Yeah, that's right, Alan. A man. A real man.

But I was wrong.

I'm two months pregnant.

When I told Alan, he just went crazy and said I had to get rid of it.

He said he couldn't share me,

and that if I gave birth, the baby would meet the same fate as Dad.

I will never see my mum again.

Do you think I would've done this if I'd had a choice?

You should've come to me.

He killed my dad and you couldn't touch him.

It wasn't for lack of trying...

Why would it be any different this time?

You see, I didn't just turn a blind eye. I helped her, Alan.

I gave her every penny I could, knock-off ID, everything.

You're in love with her, aren't you?

Love?

You don't know the first thing about love.

You filthy dyke whore!

I love Imogen. I love her with a love this world has never seen.

You're a psychopath, Alan! A monster!

How could you know anything about love?

You think you're so clever, don't you? So superior.

You've no idea what's coming, do you?

What I've done.

I'm almost sad that you won't be here to see it.

Everyone gnashing and wailing, and me and Imogen long gone.

You said you wanted water.

Call came in for you saying Anne Percival was in trouble.

-Mentioned Alan Lane.

-For me?

Anonymous. A woman. Might be nothing.

But as Percival sent Lane down for murder, it might not.

I want armed units out to Percival and Lane's home addresses now.

-Look, Kate, about earlier...

-Now, DS Baron!

Where is she?

Where is she?

-Where is she?

-Never!

Where is she?

Never!

Never!

OK, the house is clear. Still checking some buildings at the back.

She's in the basement.

Initiate an all units action for Alan Lane

and get the media desk to circulate his picture.

Yes, ma'am.

Her hands have been bound,

and the rope has been looped through the back of the wooden chair.

The distal phalanx on the left little finger has been removed.

Bi-colour weave with a drying treatment.

Yeah, Lane sells hiking gear.

His van was well-stocked and immaculate, nothing like this dump.

Some kind of grey powder embedded in the weave.

We've checked the outhouses.

No sign of Lane, but we found a car in the woods.

It's probably hers, I'll process it.

What is that?

Fingertips.

Severed fingertips.

Fingerprint testing revealed that the severed digits

belong to these nine women.

All nine are murder victims killed between 2005 and 2013

in what were believed to be unrelated domestic murders.

Lane was released in 2005.

Two of them we already know about.

With the exception of Roly Henderson, I believe that all these men

will have histories of spousal abuse,

and all of them will have put their partners into A&E

shortly before they were killed.

What makes you say that?

Because that's where Alan Lane found them.

But not Roly Henderson?

I think Lane got cocky and changed his MO.

He fatally misread the Hendersons' row as a sign of an abusive marriage,

and everything unravelled from there.

..I've told you that I don't like her in the bar, OK,

and you just ignore me.

I'm... Do you know what? We're going out.

Me and this, we're going to go out.

Oh, here we go again, yeah?

How you getting on with those fractions there, sweetheart?

All these men were innocent?

Of murder, yes, but not of abusing their wives.

That's how Lane was able to frame them so convincingly.

I'm calling the CPS as soon as we're done.

They're going to be on their knees.

Nine convicted killers walking free in one day.

I don't think we're coming out of this smelling of roses.

I guess that's why Lane kept the fingertips.

They exonerate these men and damn the system at a stroke.

Hello, Mum.

Imogen!

Look, we, we can't stay and talk here, Mum.

We can't stay here another second. We have to go.

Do you remember what Lane said?

"I go where the mood takes me. No schedule, no route."

It wasn't in response to a question. He volunteered it.

Because he does have a schedule and he does have a route?

So three of the women were murdered in North Wales in June 2006,

June 2008 and June 2010.

Three more were murdered in Scotland

in late December 2007, 2008 and 2010.

The other three women,

including Eleanor Marshall and Joanne Henderson,

were all killed in Kent in early January over a five-year period.

He roams the country, but only kills in the same three areas

and at the same time of year.

Edith MacNeil said that Derek and Imogen

used to go canoeing in Wales every June.

Edith lives in Kent...

..and her birthday is in January.

So what happened in December in Scotland?

Edith's husband was Scottish, right? MacNeil?

He died on Christmas Eve 1993, but not in Scotland.

He was buried there. Ardoe, just outside Aberdeen.

If Alan Lane murdered his wife,

why is he visiting places that are meaningful to her?

Because he was looking for her.

I've just found traces of anaesthetic

on Imogen Lane's severed fingertip.

Procaine Hydrochloride,

commonly used in the '90s by farmers on animals.

Now why would Lane care how much pain his wife was suffering

in the middle of murdering her?

I had no choice, Mum. I had to protect my baby. Your granddaughter.

She looks like you.

Does she know that I exist?

No, Mum. She doesn't.

I could've helped you.

You couldn't.

Imogen...

I couldn't involve you, Mum.

I'm your mother. I should've protected you.

What, and end up like Dad?

No-one could protect me from him, Mum.

No-one.

The hair I recovered from Percival's car belongs to Imogen Lane,

and the follicle suggests that it was shed recently.

So Percival was in on the disappearing act.

If Lane knew that, or even suspected it,

that would explain the torture.

He wanted to find Imogen.

So what's the bet that Imogen was the anonymous caller

who tried to tip us off?

It's hard to disappear. I used to work for Witness Protection.

The biggest cause of all dropouts

was people contacting their mums and dads.

Question is, does Lane know where Imogen's mother lives?

He may well have found out.

We should send Armed Response.

Put a call in, but I'm not waiting, I'm sick of bloody waiting.

PHONE RINGS

-My dad.

-Yeah.

Hello?

Can I help you, young lady?

Sorry. I'm just looking for my mum.

Your mum?

Is this your house?

What does she look like, your mum?

Er, she looks like this.

But a lot older.

I live just across the road.

I pop in to see if the old lady's OK from time to time.

Oh, you know what she likes doing sometimes?

Going for cream tea in the Pavilion.

Do you know where that is? It's just down the road.

I could drop you down if you want?

Can't you just give me the directions?

Sensible girl.

I used to be a policeman.

I was always telling young women never to accept lifts off strangers,

under no circumstances.

So how do I get to this tea place, then?

Where is it?

Well, you've inherited her impatience if nothing else.

What?

Yeah, that's his van!

Stop! Stop the car!

Police! Step away from the van. Put your hands on your head.

Put your hands on your head!

Kate! Kate!

PHONE RINGS

DI Warren's phone.

Oh, it's Jack Hodgson. Can I speak to her, please?

No.

No. No, you can't.

She's, er...

She's been shot.

She's dead.

Analysed your grey powder. Unusual type of polyurethane-coated sand.

Mainly used in the construction of indoor climbing walls.

Fits with Lane selling hiking gear, right?

What?

PHONE BEEPS

Oh.

What is it? What is it, sweetheart?

No. No. She's at home. She's safe.

PHONE RINGS

Hello, Imogen.

Please don't hurt her, Alan, please don't hurt her! I'll do anything.

Aren't you going to ask me how I've been?

How've you been?

Heartbroken.

I'm so sorry.

I know you are, I know.

I just want you back. I want my wife by my side.

Doesn't seem too much to ask for now, does it?

So here's what you're going to do, you're going to meet me

in Hewson storage facility in 30 minutes in Ashford.

And I hope it goes without saying that if you're not alone,

Karen dies.

Imogen?

Yes.

I forgive you.

Imogen!

Imogen! You can't go and meet him alone. You can't!

I have to.

-Let's call the police.

-No!

Please.

I told you what he said!

-Help!

-Mum!

She's stealing my car! Help!

Police, stop!

Why did you do that?

I'm not losing you again.

Mum!

I think you need to run a check on Alan Lane's employment history.

See if he's ever worked at an indoor...

'Things have moved on.'

We've found Imogen Lane,

but Alan Lane's holding her daughter, their daughter.

What? Holding her where?

Some storage place. Look, we've got to go.

Got a candidate for the indoor climbing facility.

-A Rock and a Hard Place.

-Jack.

Closed its doors for business two years ago

and it's only ten miles from Lane's house.

Come on, you drive.

Who are you?

Where is she? Where's my daughter? What have you done with my daughter?

Where is she?

I'm just a courier. I'm just...

-OK.

-Armed police, stand still! Stay where you are!

-Who are you?

-I'm just a courier.

Clear.

Fresh tyre marks.

Same tread pattern we found outside Lane's house.

Let's try round the back.

That's it.

That side, let it go.

Same polyurethane-coated sand as you got from the rope and boot tread.

Don't steal my thunder.

Sorry.

I mean, do I start mouthing off about where the Thoracic Vertebrae

meets the Sacrum in the middle of a postmortem?

Hopefully not, as the Sacrum

and the Thoracic are separated by the Lumbar Vertebrae.

I was close, though, wasn't I?

DOOR OPENS

Jack, wait.

It's all right. Come on.

MUFFLED WHIMPERING

Karen?

Karen. Is it Karen?

Don't worry, we're going to get you out of here.

Yeah, I'm on it.

-Stand back.

-Stand back.

Stand back, Karen.

BAR HITS CAGE

Don't worry. It's all right.

Come on. Can you walk?

Well done.

Ah!

Nikki.

Let's go.

GUNSHOT

Jack!

Jack!

Ah!

Get out!

You OK?

And you?

It's all right, darling, we're safe now.

Hey, don't worry.

I'm sorry.

Whee-hee!

Whoa! Oh!

Thank you, Nikki.

My pleasure.

You looked south while everyone else was looking north.

I'd be in prison if you hadn't.

-Hey, was that good?

-Yep.

I'm starving. Can we get pizza?

Yeah, course we can.

Can Nikki and Jack come, too?

Oh, never say no to pizza.

I think we've got to go back to work.

Spoilsport.

I'm sorry.

-Ah, never mind.

-But we'll see you very soon, OK.

OK.

Thanks a lot. Thanks for everything.

-Good luck.

-Cheers, thank you.

-Come on.

-Bye.

-I'll take you up?

-Yeah.

Come on, then. Ready?

I could take you out for a pizza later, if you like?

Kind of feel like I should.

Why's that?

Well, without you, I wouldn't have a functioning oesophagus.

Ah!

This wasn't just misadventure. Apparently, he fell from heaven.

What have you done?

I didn't kill anyone.

There's a lot they don't want you to know.

Ever since then, I've been looking for an excuse to meet you again.

Why do you need an excuse?

Someone knows what's happening, and there's people dying because of it!

Stand your ground! Don't move!

Armed police! Get down on the floor.

This is really going to mess things up.

I told you.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd