The Coroner Page #4

CLINT:

(GUTTED) Can’t I just call them?

JANE:

No. They’ll evade. There are a half-dozen across the whole county.

CLINT:

That’s…miles.

JANE:

You can go surfing tomorrow.

CLINT:

The swell will be over tomorrow.

JANE:

You’re on my time, Clint, not yours. Keep me posted on what you find.

[JANE UNLOCKS HER CAR, DAVEY FOLLOWS]

JANE (CONT’D):

And Clint? Beware Greeks bearing gifts.

[OUT ON CLINT, PERPLEXED]

CUT TO:

EP2/SC15. INT. MORTUARY. DAY 1. 11:59

JANE, DAVEY

NSE LAB ASSISTANT

[DAVEY OPENS THE MORGUE BODY CABINET AND

PULLS A BODY OUT ON A TRAY. IT’S IN A BODY

BAG]

JANE:

(READING REPORT) Decomposition consistent with immersion at sea.

Extensive PM predation by sea creatures rendering ID impossible at this

stage. Excellent.

DAVEY:

How old was he?

JANE:

Says by the pink teeth thirties or forties.

DAVEY:

Tick. Time of death?

JANE:

Anything up to a fortnight ago.

[OUT OF OUR SIGHT, DAVEY LOOKS IN THE BODY

BAG AND GRIMACES]

DAVEY:

Tick again. Hello. What’s it got on the teeth?

JANE:

Teeth…(FLIPPING THE PAGE)…he’s missing his cuspid on the upper

right -

DAVEY:

And who tends to lose their teeth?

JANE:

Sugar addicts.

DAVEY:

More Sugar Ray Leonards…boxers. Tick, tick, tick. And he’s a big lad

too…

JANE:

Once a body’s been exposed like this you can’t tell how muscly they were.

Especially when they’re this inflated by…(READS) death gasses. Hold on –

DAVEY:

What?

JANE:

Cause of death…

DAVEY:

Drowning.

JANE:

Cause of Death:
Blunt trauma to basal skull and upper cervical vertebrae.

Traumatic basal subarachnoid haemorrhage as a consequence.

[JANE FEELS THE WIND TAKEN OUT OF HER SAILS

IS BLOWING INTO DAVEY’S]

DAVEY:

Burton steals money, gets chased down by heavies who whack him in the

back of a head with a baseball bat and chuck him into the sea. Shuffled off.

JANE:

Still haven’t got DNA.

DAVEY:

You’re grasping at straws.

[JANE CAN’T HELP BUT FEEL HE’S RIGHT]

DAVEY:

That all?

JANE:

Just the personal effects – the watch he was wearing.

[JANE HOLDS UP THE EVIDENCE BAG CONTAINING

A GOLD ROLEX]

JANE (CONT’D):

Pretty fancy for a security guard.

DAVEY:

Not if it’s a fake. They’ve misspelled Rolex.

[HE TOSSES THE WATCH AT HER AND THEN

FREEZES, AS IF HE CAN HEAR SOMETHING…]

DAVEY:

What’s that? What’s that sound? That…sizzling? (SNIFFS) And

that…smell…sounds and smells like a steak…

[JANE HEADS OUT LETTING DAVEY ENJOY HIS

JOKE ALONE]

CUT TO:

EP2/SC16. INT. MORTUARY. CORRIDOR. DAY 1. 12:07

DAVEY, JANE

[DAVEY AND JANE WALK TOWARD THE EXIT]

DAVEY:

Reckon Mick can rustle up a b.arnaise sauce? Peppercorns give me

heartburn.

JANE:

It’s not necessarily murder. Could be a bad gybe. If you turn a boat the

wrong way the boom rips right across it could easily clatter you at head-

height.

DAVEY:

Our bet’s not on whether it’s a murder or not, it’s on whether that’s Kevin

Burton in there benchpressing his coffin.

JANE:

I’m not buying you steak til we get confirmation on the DNA.

DAVEY:

Then let’s pay his Mrs a visit.

[THEY PUSH THROUGH THE EXIT DOORS]

CUT TO:

EP2/SC17. EXT. GRAVELLE’S UNDERTAKERS. DAY 1. 12:08

CLINT:

[CLINT PULLS UP IN FLORENCE (CAMPERVAN). HIS

SURFBOARD IS STRAPPED TO THE ROOF, HE’S GOT

THE WINDOWS DOWN AND IS PLAYING “FLAKE” BY

JACK JOHNSON A LITTLE TOO LOUDLY. FROM HIS

REARVIEW MIRROR, FLUFFY DICE HANG AND IN

HIS WINDSCREEN IS A STICKER FOR HIS BELOVED

PLYMOUTH ARGYLE FC]

CUT TO:

EP2/SC18. INT. GRAVELLE’S UNDERTAKERS. DAY 1. 12:09

CLINT, GRAVELLE

[A BELL TINKLES AS CLINT ENTERS. CAREFULLY

FRAMED PHOTOS LINE THE WALLS SHOWING THE

DIFFERENT TYPES OF FUNERALS ON SALE, ALL

TWEE AND GAUCHE]

GRAVELLE:

Can I help?

CLINT:

(TURNING) You do sea-burials?

GRAVELLE:

Indeed.

CLINT:

Don’t suppose I could have a list of the ones you’ve done in the last month?

GRAVELLE:

Which rag are you from? Which newspaper?

CLINT:

I’m not.

GRAVELLE:

It’s not us, ok?

CLINT:

I’m from the coroner’s office.

GRAVELLE:

(SUDDENLY WARMING) Why didn’t you say, sweetie!? You don’t look

much like a coroner.

CLINT:

How are they meant to look?

GRAVELLE:

Somehow more…wizened and sinewed.

CLINT:

So can I have the records, please?

GRAVELLE:

Perhaps you’d like a drink? Cup of tea or a fruity juice?

CLINT:

No thanks.

GRAVELLE:

A slice of cake? We’ve a gateaux freshly baked; death by chocolate…

CLINT:

Just the records for whatever sea-burials you’ve done in the last month.

GRAVELLE:

Hold the fort.

[GRAVELLE HEADS OFF INTO THE BACK OFFICE TO

RUMMAGE THROUGH A CABINET]

GRAVELLE (CONT’D):

I hope you’ll forgive my tone – we’ve had hell from the press all day.

[CLINT PEERS AT THE PICTURES ON THE WALLS.

GRAVELLE RETURNS]

GRAVELLE (CONT’D):

There are two. Here they are. The last one we did was this morning.

Margaret Crighton; lovely lady.

CLINT:

Thanks.

GRAVELLE:

You will take care of them, won’t you sweetie? And you’ll send my very

warmest to Jane? In fact, why don’t you give her the cake?

CLINT:

I –

GRAVELLE:

Really, I insist.

CLINT:

Ok. Thanks for the files.

GRAVELLE:

Anytime, come again.

[CLINT TAKES THE CAKE BOX AND THE FILES AND

HEADS OUT, SLIGHTLY PERPLEXED]

CUT TO:

EP2/SC19. EXT. DORA’S HOUSE. DAY 1. 12:13

DAVEY, JANE, DORA

NSE HEAVY:

[DAVEY AND JANE WALK UP THE DRIVEWAY AND

RING THE BELL. AS THEY WAIT, THEY SPOT A

BLACK RANGE ROVER WITH A HEAVY AT THE

WHEEL WATCHING THE HOUSE. AS SOON AS HE’S

SEEN HE DRIVES AWAY. DORA APPEARS]

DAVEY:

Can we come in?

[THEY HEAD INSIDE]

CUT TO:

EP2/SC20. INT. DORA’S HOUSE. HALLWAY. DAY 1. 12:14

DAVEY, DORA, JANE

[DORA KEEPS THEIR CONVERSATION IN HER

HALLWAY]

DORA:

You’ve found a body, I’ve seen it on the news –

JANE:

We have found a body but we don’t know who it is.

DORA:

It’s him, right?

DAVEY:

We don’t know.

DORA:

Going half crazy here – phone’s ringing off the hook.

DAVEY:

If you’d like I can organise for a liaison officer to be with you?

DORA:

No, no I’d rather be on my own.

JANE:

We’d like to do a DNA check, would that be alright?

DORA:

What do you need?

JANE:

Best thing is if we could contact his mother.

DORA:

She died 2005.

JANE:

Then who’s his next of kin?

DORA:

Me, I guess.

JANE:

You don’t share DNA with him. Perhaps we could take something of his?

Toothbrushes are best.

DORA:

He took it with him sailing.

DAVEY:

Or if he has a glass he uses, perhaps by his bedside?

DORA:

He hasn’t.

DAVEY:

Could you check?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes