Matt, what on earth are you doing?

Definitely not covering anything up.

Okay. You are shoving documents into a toaster.

Yeah, it's just a new data management system I've developed.

What are you burning slash toasting?

It just looks like a receipt for that sushi place down the road.

Exactly. I can't be seen eating sushi.

My reputation is built on pasties. You book me, you get a guy who eats pasties. If people start thinking I eat sophisticated or modern food, I'm over. I really think you're overreacting. Alice, before the World Cup in 2010, I was pictured eating a falafel and quinole salad. I didn't get any gigs that summer. It was a World Cup summer. Are you sure that's the

reason? Well, look, I didn't get any work, any of the other World Cup summers, but that's

beside the point. Then what are you waiting for? Put it on de-frost.

2012, post office headquarters, London. Ian Henderson rips open the package on his desk, then stops.

His shoulders tense.

The post office has sent him the wrong batch again.

He runs a hand through his grey hair.

Either the whole system is a mess, or he's missing something.

The post office hired Ian to audit the horizon system

and the prosecution's built on it.

But the deeper he digs, the murkier it gets.

Files don't match, go missing, or vanish entirely.

And his patience is wearing thin.

He snatches up the phone, is about to ring CEO Paula Venols to complain when something catches his eye. One of the files looks different

to the others. It's twice as thick. He pulls it out. It's a full legal file, stamped private and confidential.

...