Thorne

They're on their way.

Tom! Breathe, Tom!

Tom.

Breathe!

Tom!

Where are those fuckin' paramedics?!

Can you name the last six prime ministers?

Brown, obviously.

Blair.

Major.

Thatcher. Callaghan.

And...

was it Heath or Wilson?

Eh? Heath or Wilson?

Heath, right?

Come on, Tommy.

It was Harold Wilson.

1974 to '76. Lib-Lab pact.

And all that.

Tom?

Tommy?

Hey. Hey, you're all right. You're in a hospital.

You've been here two days.

What's that?

He was there, Dad.

No, no, no, I can't hear you. Sorry.

I couldn't do anything. Couldn't move.

Oh, you did everything you could, son.

You sent them a text so they knew where to find you.

- Did they get him? - Listen, I'm gonna take you home.

Your mam'll take care of you. She'll soon sort you out.

Tommy, don't try and get up! Don't! Don't!

Jesus Christ! Your heart stopped!

Sorry, sir.

Rest now, please.

You let them catch him, eh? You let them do it.

Yeah. Dr Strohm wants to see you.

Yeah, sure, I'll just scrub up now.

"Dear Tom.

"Sorry.

"They're dead,

"and it's down to me.

"I don't understand it. I never wanted to hurt anyone.

"But they keep breaking.

"I feel like you know me.

"I think about you and it feels special,

"like a sex thing."

Tom.

- Are you OK? - Yeah.

I'm sorry, Tom. He mentions Frank Calvert in the note.

Jesus. You don't know about the note, do you?

"Dear Tom.

"I know about Frank.

"I know all your stories.

"I'd like us to be able to talk about it.

"Can I come and see you, Tom?"

Tom, this changes everything. He's hurt one of us. And we're gonna get this fuck.

Ringside seat this time.

It's great to have you back on board.

I'm just getting this lot up to speed. There's four bodies now. He's after Frank's crown.

Yeah? How did you work that out?

The dead girls are all in white.

Well, doesn't that sound like some sort of copycat to you, Tom?

Frank Calvert killed six gay guys and his three girls.

Whoever wrote that note doesn't want to kill anyone.

He wants them alive. Locked in.

I tell you what, Kevin, if you want to run with this, that's up to you. Knock yourself out.

Yvonne, my office. I want to be brought up to speed on this new profile, all right?

Oh, sorry, have I missed something here?

You've been out for 36 hours, Tom.

Ruth felt that I should...

Where are your shoes, Tom?

You shouldn't be here, Tom.

You can go back to hospital or I'm putting you in a hotel.

The Assistant Commissioner wants you looked after.

Oh, aye? What do you have in mind, then?

Two weeks at Champneys spa or an overnight at the Travelodge? I'm fine.

The hospital said you'd be out for two weeks, rest for six.

I made Tughan investigating officer.

Yeah, temporary.

But I'm back now, aren't I?

Kevin thought you were followed home from Dr Coburn's house.

- He's got Dr Bishop's under surveillance. - Nah.

I interviewed Bishop. I can't see it.

Well, so did Kevin, yesterday.

For a man who wears an expensive watch, he's pretty sketchy on his time.

- What have you got on your feet? - Eh?

Oh, yeah.

I borrowed them.

You need a break. You can have a week in my timeshare in Tenerife.

Kev isn't getting it. This guy doesn't want to kill. He wants to lock them in.

That note as good as said it.

I think you're wrong. I'm not alone.

He's killed four times. That's what he wants. Dead girls. And you'd be dead too.

2:53am. "Send help." Christ, Tom, if you'd not sent that message, where would you be?

I didn't.

He did.

He had no intention of killing me.

- Well, why attack you, then? - I don't know. To show that he could.

Oh, you see, this is you, Tom. You get an idea in your head, and everyone else is stupid.

I want focused, not fixated.

I'm not going anywhere.

DI Thorne would like a role in your investigation. How do you feel about that?

Well, I can use all the help I can get.

Well, you can stay on, but you're taking orders, not giving them.

What?

Dr Anne Coburn to see you, sir.

Is she not dangerous?

- So, here you are. - You shouldn't be here.

You shouldn't be here. You should be lying in a hospital bed.

What is it? Let me see.

Look at me. You... look terrible.

I'm fine.

Wow. Were you robbed as well?

Eh? Oh, no, that was always like that.

- That's very funny. - No, it's not.

You think that's appropriate after what I've been through?

It's very inappropriate, and, um... I'm sorry, Tom. I'm gonna go.

You need to get some rest. Can I get you anything before I leave?

- Do you want a cup of tea? - I want you to stay here.

Tonight. Please.

OK, yeah.

Did I do it wrong?

- Action! - OK.

It probably looked innocent enough,

but perhaps someone saw him talking to her or taking her coat.

Alison had been with her friends all evening...

She does not look anything like me, does she?

I mean, she's at least a ten, and I'm an eight, probably a six by now.

Oh, I love that dress.

Alison, I'm sorry. That is so insensitive. Shall I turn it off?

No. Leave it. We believe she was drunk.

I want to know.

It was only after Alison returned home

- that the assailant came to her door. - I let him in. Stupid bitch.

He used the pretext of returning her coat to gain entrance.

Tom said he found my coat.

The coat was found at her home address.

Alison would have been incapacitated by now.

It may have looked like she'd been drinking too much and he was assisting her.

He touched me, didn't he?

Why can't I remember?

There is always a sexual element to his attacks.

He tends to prey on women in their 20s.

In addition to the horrific injuries suffered by Miss Willetts, this man has killed...

What is Tughan talking about? There was no indication of anything sexual.

- No, it's good. - His last victim was Madeleine Vickery, 24.

He's messing with him, trying to get him to justify himself, make a mistake.

Jane's doing well.

What's with the deep-throat whisper? Oh, I get it. You slapper.

You could have been lying dead in that stupid fucking flat.

No one would have known about it till the Wine Rack on the corner went out of business.

- Yeah, were you worried about me? - Worried about you, Teflon Tom?

Murdered Monday, comatose Tuesday, shagging on Wednesday.

- I thought I was dead, Phil. - Yeah, I know.

And you were worried about me, weren't you? Come on, admit it. Tosser.

Bullshit.

This man is known to frequent bars where young people gather.

God's sake. What are we meant to do, lock them up?

A car was seen, a dark saloon car, possibly a BMW.

Rachel, was that the girl your mum was treating?

Did you see a car fitting this description leaving her building?

If anything you've seen tonight jogs your memory...

Oh, look at him. He's gorgeous.

All calls will be treated with the utmost confidentiality.

Here come the crazies.

Right, if that guy so much as farts in the bath, we've got him.

This man is dangerous and sexually predatory.

It hurt... hurts.

The pattern of his attacks indicates a man

driven by what police psychologists suggest

is a desire to hurt and sexually dominate women.

It...

Leonie, they're lies. This is all lies. I'm trying to save you.

Save you.

Red.

Yes.

- I... I love? - What?

Hold on, hold on.

Yes, "I love." L.

Purple.

O. Yes.

Yellow. N.

Lon. I love Lon.

Pink.

D.

Lon. I love London. I love London.

What's that? Is that something he said to you?

No.

- Is it a T-shirt he had on or... - I'd tell you if I knew.

I don't remember. I'm herding cats in here.

I know it's tough. I know you're scrabbling around for memories.

Anything you've got.

I'm blinking for wheels here, pal, while you're making doe eyes at Dr Love.

I thought she was looking peaky.

Alison, you know these words you've told us, these two,

are they one word or two, huh?

Van. Say. Is it two words or one?

- Huh? - I don't know what it means, Tom.

- I just heard it. - Is it a name or a place?