Inside No. 9

Oh, God.

Never again.

Vodka and Coco Pops?

Are you serious?

There's no milk.

Do you want me to eat them dry?

You've only just got out of bed.

I know, I'm a walking cliche. What can I tell you?

Fetch me a spoon.

So, is this why they took you off the case?

What, the drinking? Ah...

I can run round for round with any of those plods,

and still not lose my lunch at an autopsy.

You bounce back. -Exactly.

Well, they do call you "Nine Lives Kat".

Do they? -Yeah. Short for Katrina.

Mm! Hear that, Kitney?

I've got a nickname, just like you.

Kitney Spears.

Funny.

I used to have two,

but David Meowie got run over.

That's good.

So, go on, then, why did they take you off the case?

They're dinosaurs.

They can't stand being told the truth by a woman.

Simple as that. My ex-husband is exactly the same.

Erm, ex-husbands.

There's been more than one, remember? -Who's counting?

You know what?

I'll show them.

I will show them you do not need a cock and balls to crack a case,

or stack a dishwasher in the most ergonomic way possible.

You just need...

..a brain and a heart, and guts.

And that's what I've got.

You going to help me, or what?

Of course I am...

..Nine Lives Kat.

OK, bring me up to speed.

So, we've got five suspects who were all seen on CCTV

in and around the area at the time of the abduction.

I'm still in the process of fleshing out their stories,

but it seems two of them have links to the family that could

throw up some interesting leads.

Let's not talk about throwing up.

Not until these Coco Pops have settled.

What about the stepfather? Surely he's our prime suspect.

I'd rather say he's "helping us with our inquiries".

Let's arrange a press conference for this afternoon.

If he breaks down in tears and says, "We just want our angel back,"

we know it's definitely him.

Will do.

I thought you were off the case.

There's a little boy out there tonight who's frightened.

He's trapped, he can't breathe...

..and I'm going to find him.

I'm going to bring him out into the light

and I don't care whose toes I have to tread on to do it.

When you were little and your milk teeth fell out,

I used to take them from under your pillow and leave 50p.

And I'd keep them in a Tic Tac box in the bathroom cabinet.

When the job got too much for me,

or your dad was being difficult...

..I'd empty them into the palm of my hand

and squeeze as hard as I could...

..your teeth in my fist...

..until I felt...blood.

Until I felt...

..alive.

Right, take me through it again.

11.15am, Ashley finishes his karate lesson

and is picked up from the Methodist church by his mum.

11.30, they pull into the retail park,

where Mum goes to McDonald's to buy a Happy Meal,

telling Ashley to stay in the car.

Now, five minutes prior to this,

we have the green Vauxhall Corsa parking up outside Hollywood Bowl

driven by sunglasses man...

Mummy?

Ohhh! God.

Trust you to be here.

Charming!

Have you seen Kitney Spears?

No. She's, er, she's gone.

Ha! Dirty stop-out.

Mind you, I can talk.

So, what have you got for me?

How do you mean? -The missing boy.

Have you checked out the alibis of the five suspects?

That was a long time ago. -What do you mean?

Kat, I haven't seen you in several months.

I saw you two days ago.

What are you talking about?!

Just...give me time to catch up.

Where's it gone? -What?

The entire investigation!

Er, I've still got the notes.

I just didn't think it was good to put it up on the wall.

You have no right to tell me how to run this case.

No right at all! Do you hear me?

I was...I was this close to making a breakthrough.

You're up.

Er, Katrina...

She prefers to be called Kat.

Ah. I don't know what happened last night.

You seemed very agitated.

We'd both had a lot to drink.

But if it's any consolation, I don't think we actually...

Actually what?

Elvis did not enter the building.

Is this guy for real? -Sorry, you are...?

Er, DI Bull. Barnabus Bull.

I'm a colleague of Katrina's.

We have a, sort of, love-hate relationship.

I'm sensing a hate phase at the moment...

Just shut up, Barney! I'm trying to think.

Sure, sure, although, er, strictly speaking, of course,

all thinking is subconscious,

because consciousness is an awareness of thoughts,

not thinking itself, so you can't actually try to think.

Why don't you go and put the kettle on?

I'm not sure it would fit.

No, I mean SWITCH the kettle on.

I think we could all do with a drink. -Oh, yeah, sure.

He's quite a character.

A bit spectrum-y, perhaps.

I'm not shagging him.

I know, I didn't say you were!

It's just an interesting development, that's all.

Look, I know you think I'm taking this case too personally.

But I'm a woman.

And I empathise.

And I know how to fight,

and I know how to dig my heels in.

And let me tell you

size eight stilettos dig in deep.

Now, what have you done with my case notes?

Erm, do you have any loose-leaf tea?

I can't bear the bags.

They never steep in quite the right way.

One second.

Is that really the best we can do?

Jump-scares with a cat?

Why...are you always here?

I don't remember giving you a key.

What happened to the missing boy - Ashley?

What are you not telling me?

I've tried with you, Katrina, I really, really have...

..but I just don't think it's working.

Oh, please do not come in here! I have a system.

I know where everything is. -It's all right, Barnabus.

We can pick this up later.

What's he doing here?

Get out of my bloody house!

It's not your house, Kat.

It never was.

Come on, Katy.

Katy, there's a good girl.

Katy Purry. A bit more contemporary.

I'd written a couple of collections of short stories,

been nominated for a Gold Dagger, pretty healthy sales,

when my publisher decided I ought to write a series of detective novels.

Well, I wasn't that keen,

but I made a few notes, had a brainstorm,

and out of nowhere, I wrote down "Nine Lives Kat".

It's a good title. -It is, yes. Thank you.

So, I tinkered with the idea,

er, made up some bog-standard case

of a missing child just so I could interrogate the character

and see if it added up to anything.

The character...based on me?

No, the character OF you.

Katrina...surname.

Never got that far.

Erm, late 40s, a couple of divorces,

single mum, booze, pills,

clashes with authority.

And what I realised when I read it back was...

..it's all a bit cliched.

I said that. -I know.

I said that on page bloody one!

I know you did and I should learn to listen to that critical voice.

But at the time, I was watching episodes of Cracker and Prime Suspect,

and I thought, "I can write one of those!"

So I tried, and you just turned out to be a bit...

Generic.

Fuck off, Rain Man.

It's all right, Katy! It's all right.

Anyway, I popped you down here in the bottom drawer for a while,

and every now and again, I dig you out,

see if there's anything I could work with.

I do a lot of screenwriting now,

and the streaming platforms are always dying for female-led content.

That and dystopian fucking fantasy worlds, anyway.

You think you're some... patriarchal creator?

God of your own little universe?

Well, sorry. I'm real.

My life is real.

No, it isn't.