Red Riding: In the Year of Our Lord 1974 Page #2

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It was-it was like Vietnam

or something.

Well, Bill Molloy's got it in

for the gypsies, hasn't he?

You reckon it was the police?

Their style.

That land's earmarked.

New John Dawson development.

Here, don't be late, mate.

The Badger doesn't like

newspapermen.

Into the lion's den you go.

Come on, then, son.

Surprise me.

Well, Mr. Molloy, sir,

I was just wondering

if there were any more news

on Clare Kemplay?

Nothing.

Sweet f*** all.

That poor lass is dead, son.

And Jeanette Garland,

Susan Ridyard?

There are some

similarities there, eh?

I'm thinking about

the A34 murders, Cannock Chase.

What the f*** do you know

about Cannock Chase?

Just that it turned out

it was the work of one man,

wasn't it?

And here we have

Jeanette Garland, Susan Ridyard,

Clare Kemplay-

they all go missing.

You're not the first one

to put that together, son.

You vain little twat.

My senile bloody auntie could.

You haven't got a story, son.

Best we find her body,

and quick.

Check the bins.

See who's got themselves

an early away day.

All right.

Pull in local gypos and paddies.

Have we met before, son?

No.

No, I don't think so.

Good.

You do your digging,

and I'll do mine.

Now f*** off.

[Knocking at door]

Sir.

F***ing plods.

Breaking news...

[Radio static squealing]

[Doorbell rings]

Reporter, are you?

That obvious, is it?

We've seen a few around here.

Ridyards aren't in, love.

Oh, right.

Well, do you know

when they'll be back?

Gone away for a few days.

Can't blame them.

Brings it all back.

And what with them finding that

new one over in Fitzwilliam.

Sorry, what?

Clare Kemplay.

They found her.

Just on the news.

Dumped on a building site.

Eddie.

Aw, thanks for letting me

know, love.

Oh, f*** you, Eddie.

Oh, Jack Whitehead,

the crime reporter of the year.

Fancy you being here.

Oh, glad you could join us,

Scoop.

Boss wants to see you, ASAP.

Early bird and all that.

Is it true you like it

up trap two from Jack?

You're the one

who's f***ed, Scoop.

You couldn't be reached,

so I sent for Jack.

So I'm off the story?

Not at all, not at all, no.

Just sit down a minute, Edward.

Edward, park your ass.

I want a word.

Look, I've got a couple

of other things

I want you to follow up for me,

all right, a favour.

Wha-what? What favour?

I want you to go to Shangri-la.

What?

Shangri-la.

It was a silver wedding present

apparently,

her favourite film.

What are you on about?

Dawson Place.

John Dawson,

the construction magnate.

Right.

Barry's got a theory:

Local corruption.

Barry reckons

that Marjorie Dawson

will corroborate all the stuff

we've dug up on her husband.

Now, look, Marjorie Dawson

is not a well woman.

It is ethically dubious

to bother her.

So I want you to go with Barry

and make sure he doesn't go off

at the deep end.

All right, so what about

Clare Kemplay?

We'll let Jack handle it

for the most part, eh?

You can do the background.

Who found her?

A builder's mate,

a lad from Fitzwilliam.

Now, Edward,

I'm asking you to drop it.

All right.

Good.

So you'll stay away

from Fitzwilliam, then?

[Woman yelling indistinctly]

[Knocking at door]

Hiya. Mrs. Cole?

Edward Dunford.

I'm from the Yorkshire Post.

To see our Leonard, isn't it?

Yeah, that's right.

Just a quick chat.

He's had enough with police.

He don't need

to keep going over it.

Mary, Mary, it's okay.

It's all right.

Hi.

Sorry. I'm Martin Laws.

Pleasure. Edward Dunford.

Sorry about my hands.

I've been working

on the allotment.

Sorry about that. Not a problem.

I'm just here for a quick chat

with Leonard,

if that's all right?

I don't want to bother you.

Put the comic away, Leonard.

All right, Leonard?

I'm Edward Dunford.

I'm a journalist

for the Yorkshire Post.

I just want to ask you

a couple of questions, you know.

Naught to worry about at all.

They thought he'd done it,

you know?

Shut up, Mum.

Hey, you.

The police realized

it was a mistake.

So why did they think

you'd done it, Leonard?

Ask them.

He's a good boy, Mr. Dunford.

He didn't do nothing.

No, I don't...

I can see that.

You might as well get some brass

out of it, Leonard,

and tell us what happened.

It's not about the money,

Mr. Dunford.

It's the truth that matters.

Hmm?

Leonard will show you the place.

She were a lovely little thing.

We were waiting for the gaffer,

but he never come.

Right.

And it were raining, so...

we were just arsing about,

you know?

Yeah.

I went over

to have a wazz, like.

And that's when I saw her.

Down there?

She were lying there.

She had...

She had wings.

What?

Oh, f***!

I couldn't believe it were her.

[Gentle piano music]

On the day she went missing,

Clare was wearing a red cagoule

and red Wellington boots.

When Clare left Morley Grange

Junior and Infants School,

she was seen by witnesses

heading south...

You hard at it, Jackie?

Hello, Scoop.

Just had a chat

with Leonard Cole.

You naughty boy.

Didn't Auntie Hadley say you had

to go home for an early bath?

Heard you were over

at Clare Kemplay's post-mortem.

The police are [Belches]

Withholding exact details.

Haven't you got a family

to go home to?

You keep following me like this,

your friend Barry's

going to get very jealous.

Did you get a look at it?

Your friend

or the post-mortem?

Yeah, I saw it.

- And?

- And?

And that little girl

was tortured, raped,

and strangled

in that order.

Right.

I want all the details.

No, you don't, Scoop.

Jack.

Jack, don't f*** around.

Hey, whatever happened

to all those novels

that you wanted to write,

but you were too scared shitless

to even try?

All right, mate.

All right.

You f***ing tell me.

Eddie.

Eddie, I am pissing on

my trouser leg and yours too.

You are f***ing pathetic.

Just a hack.

Such insight.

- The yellow jester

does not play

But gently pulls

the strings

He smiles

as the puppets dance

In the court

of the crimson king

[Music stops]

A man left this for you, love.

Nice man.

Said he were a friend of yours.

Jack somebody or other.

Mum, I'm working.

"Presence of coal dust..."

Ligature marks.

Tears and bruising.

Swan's wings stitched

into her back.

Stitched into her back.

"4 luv."

Carved into her skin.

Carved into her skin.

[Dramatic music]

Here we are, at Shangri-la.

All great buildings

resemble crimes, they say.

Oh, yeah?

Right.

Oh, f*** Hadley.

I'm going to go and talk

to Jeanette Garland's family.

You still you think

there's a connection

to Clare Kemplay

and t'other missing girls?

Absolutely, yeah.

Good lad.

And, uh, don't go

off the deep end, Barry.

Ha ha ha.

[Gentle guitar music]

New Labour government,

what is being seen

as a resounding victory

for the miners.

Around 260,000 miners

have accepted weekly pay rises

ranging from six pounds to...

[Doorbell rings]

Hiya.

Are you Mrs. Paula Garland?

Yeah.

Hi.

I'm Edward Dunford.

I'm from the Yorkshire Post.

I just wanted a quick chat

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