Vera - Twelfth Season

Get off my bus. Now!

Or I'll report you.

Pathetic, both of you.

Lyle!

Gotta go, it's work. It can't wait.

Morning, Ma'am.

Malcolm's in a foul mood.

Oh, nothing new there, then.

The victim's male, looks to be in his 40s.

A lighthouse technician.

Amy Watson saw him on the boat and called it in.

I've left a message with Missing Persons.

- Morning, Jac. - Morning, Ma'am.

Have we got a name for our sailor yet?

No ID was found on the victim or the boat,

but there was a registration number on its radio.

I'll run it through the UK Ship Register.

Great. How about the coastguard? Any distress signals?

No, nothing.

That boat could've come in from anywhere.

Right, come on.

Let's check the tides, see if we can narrow it down. Ma'am.

Ah. And another police officer tramples all over the crime scene.

I'd just prefer it if people didn't stomp all over the evidence.

I'm funny like that

I've never known you to be funny, Malcolm.

So, what can you tell us?

You know the score, DCI Stanhope.

I'll know an awful lot more once I get him back to the lab.

What time of death?

It doesn't look like he died this morning.

Rigor mortis is absent, so the best I can offer you

is some time in the last two or three days.

So Friday or Saturday.

Any clue as to how he died?

At the risk of repeating myself, DCI Stanhope...

Yeah, well, something happened here.

Yes, the injury on his cheekbone was sustained shortly before he died.

There is minor swelling,

but not the colour change I'd expect from an older bruise.

Move.

There's a nastier head injury back here.

Assaulted?

Too early to tell. He could've injured himself on the boat.

Ah, come on, Malcolm, give us something to go on.

Right, well...

See this lividity pattern on the side of his face?

This tells me that he was lying on something very specific

for several hours after he died,

and that pattern doesn't match anything in the vicinity.

Are you saying he's been moved?

Or whatever it was was washed overboard.

Right, thanks, Malcolm.

As quick as you can on this one

cos if he has been dead a couple of days,

could be someone at home needs to know about it.

Don't forget to trample on more evidence on the way out!

- Ma'am? - Oh, tell me you've got a name.

Frank Channing. Missing Persons got back to us.

- He lived in Tritlington. - Oh, so he's local.

Yeah, I checked the electoral register as well

and got his next of kin.

Great work, Jac. Now, when you get back to the station,

make a start on the timeline.

I want to know where he was last week,

what he was doing, and who he met.

Ma'am.

So, who is the next of kin?

Looks like his wife, Julia Channing.

I hate this bit.

Right. Wish me luck.

Dad!

I'm very sorry, Mrs Channing.

What am I gonna tell Lyle?

Er... our, our son.

Just turned 18.

They were tight...

More mates than father and son.

Well, at least they used to be.

I can tell him what's happened, if you want.

Mrs Channing, when did you last see your husband?

She's already said this to Missing Persons.

Don't you lot speak to each other?

The Friday.

He came back for lunch just before one, and...

and then he left almost straightaway.

Said it couldn't wait.

So what was the emergency?

I don't know. He, he didn't say...

What was his job?

Principal licensing officer, Northumberland And City Council.

Why didn't you report him missing on Friday? Why wait until Sunday?

He messaged me Friday.

Said he was going sailing.

He said he'd be back Sunday.

Sunday.

And where would he have launched from?

It varied on the tide.

And then he'd just moor up wherever the fancy took him.

OK, love.

Erm, now, can you let me have your husband's car registration number?

What's that got to do with anything?

Well, presumably, it'll be parked wherever he set sail, love.

Oh, yes, right. Sorry.

Thanks, love.

Was it usual for your husband to go sailing all weekend?

Aye. Weekend, night sailing.

He, he just liked the solitude of being out on his boat.

And he'd normally be back by Sunday?

He'd arranged to meet Lyle.

Him and Frank are doing up a... an old boat.

Working on it together at Hauxley Sailing Club.

And is that where your husband kept his own boat?

Aye. He was a member.

It was practically his second home.

Oh...

It's all right.

Well, that's it for now, love.

Thanks for your time, Mrs Channing.

Mr Allen.

If you told your missus on a Friday you'd be back Sunday,

she'd want to know chapter and verse about what you were doing,

where you were, wouldn't she?

She'd be ringing you up to complain.

'So, what's the next step, Ma'am?'

'Now, Frank was a licensing officer,

'with the Northumberland City Council.'

Some sort of emergency there on Friday, so meet me there.

'Let's see what they can tell us.'

We've only just heard about Frank. Couldn't this have waited?

Er, no, pet, it can't.

How long had Frank been at the council?

Since university, but in licensing... five years?

He was practically part of the furniture.

We know on Friday afternoon,

he was dealing with an urgent work matter...

Oh, no, no, no. That's incorrect.

Frank wasn't at work. He'd taken the afternoon off to go sailing.

Well, is it possible he'd changed his mind

and decided to work instead?

Frank was dedicated to the council and its values,

but he had a good work-life balance.

Where's his office?

His desk is, er... It's over there.

I'll check it out...

Oh, no. I'd prefer it if we went through the proper channels.

I need to inform our legal department, chief exec's office...

We're not looking for state secrets, love.

We're just trying to ascertain what sort of person Frank was.

He was popular with everyone.

So, no problems with disgruntled licensees,

or friction with councillors?

No, nothing like that.

Did he ever talk about his home life?

Frank was professional.

He kept his private life out of the office.

D'you have permission to do that?

Detective Sergeant Aiden Healey, Northumberland and City Police.

- Oh. - Did you work with Frank?

Ever since I left college.

I'm Leonie. Becker.

How did he die?

- Bosses didn't tell us much. - It's too early to say.

But we believe that he may have been handling some kind of emergency

on Friday?

Anything major's flagged up on the staff intranet.

It doesn't look like anything came in.

We don't have major emergencies as such.

You might get a nasty phone call if someone's lost their licence,

but that's it.

OK.

Day to day, what did his job entail?

The usual management responsibilities.

Staff appraisals, inspection regimes.

I can send you a copy of his job description.

That'd be helpful, thanks.

Right, well, if that's everything...

I'm surprised he wasn't running his own department,

having worked so many years at the council.

We both went for this job, head of licensing.

Oh, but you got it?

They liked the work I'd done in procurement.

They wanted a fresh face, fresh ideas.

Being overlooked, though,

that must've been a bitter pill to swallow.

Well, if it was, he never showed it.

Now, I'm gonna need access to Frank's computer

and any other devices he might've used.

Well, I'll have to refer up. We handle sensitive data here.

Oh, well, while you're doing that,

I'll refer up to the magistrate, come back with a warrant.

Maybe get access to everyone's computer?

I'll see what I can do.

Anything useful in that diary?

Cos talking to her was like wading through red tape and treacle.

Endless meetings.

He had one on the Friday morning, but nothing in the afternoon.

Oh, cos he knew he'd be away.

You know, maybe Frank was seeing someone on the quiet.

Aye, that's what I'm thinking.