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All right, I am exhausted.

Good luck.

I'll see you next.

- Well done. - I'll rush.

- Myself? - Yeah.

[suspenseful music]

See you later, guys.

Bye.

[laughter]

- You, uh, coming over on Sunday?

I will let you know.

I might be going out with Kevin.

- Ah, don't make me do dinner solo.

My mom's doing my head in about dropping out of college.

- That is one of the many drawbacks of still

living with the elders.

- Yeah, but she does me washing, so--

Sure.

- Hey, do you want me to walk you to the door?

I live two minutes away.

I think I'll be safe.

And I love you.

Yeah, yeah.

I'll see you Sunday?

We'll see.

[suspenseful music]

♪

[door squeaks, clangs]

[glass clinks]

[beer pouring]

[loud thud]

[strains]

[theme music]

♪

[car horn honks]

- Maybe you just put your foot on the accelerator

a little bit more.

[car horn honks]

A little more.

[sighs]

[car horn honks]

A lot more?

You have feet, right?

Yes, I have feet!

[car horn honks]

- Get off the road, you fecking moron!

- Fergus, you need to not be scared.

I know.

It's my first time behind a wheel, all right.

I'm getting there.

- Well, you get there fast if you put your foot down.

Fine.

Stop!

[tires screech]

What was wrong?

Nothing.

Just checking your emergency stop response.

Are you having a laugh?

[chuckles]

[whimsical music]

♪

- You're the one that's insisting

on taking an absolutely pointless gap year.

All I'm asking is that you use it wisely.

Well, hang on.

It's not pointless, okay?

It's smart.

The agency is making money.

I want to earn while I can.

- You have a place at Trinity, on my old course.

That's huge.

- And it'll still be there in autumn when I can go there

at the same time as Lola.

Okay?

It'll all be perfect.

Fine.

[exhales] But we are going to get you driving before you

go there.

So tomorrow--

No way am I doing that again.

Look, you know, you're only torturing me because you're

missing Harry B, right?

Bull, so I don't miss men.

- Well, it's been what, four weeks?

Six weeks two days.

Where is he now?

Korea.

Jesus!

First England, then Hungary, now Korea.

What is this case?

I have no idea, really.

He can't tell me anything because of this ridiculous NDA

he had to sign. Anyway, I'm--

Sorry.

Hold that thought.

- Have you forgotten how knocking works, then?

Yes!

There you are, mother.

Ferg.

All right, chief?

Grand.

I was just leaving.

- So you're just coming here in order to leave?

Well, clearly, you have some question you want to ask me,

and you're having second thoughts.

What is it?

Something embarrassing?

Questions about sex?

Something not working between you and Orla?

You can talk in front of him, you know?

He's 18 now.

Jesus, mother.

No, it's not questions about sex.

I need help with a case.

- Well, of course you do, Charlie, dear.

Best we go inside, though.

- I just want you to be a sounding board.

That's it. Nothing else.

A fresh pair of eyes.

You two do tend to have a different way

of looking at things.

I mean, an amateur way, obviously.

- Obviously, though, with a pretty high solve rate.

Mm.

Not that we compare ourselves to the Gardai, although.

Maybe higher percentage-wise.

This was a mistake.

- Oh, Charlie, we're teasing you from the lofty position

of having a better solve rate.

So come on, tell us.

What is it?

Come on. Come on.

It's got to be something important.

- And we're guessing it's something

that's causing you a problem.

Otherwise, you wouldn't have even thought to come here.

Good point.

So get it out.

- You can't tell anyone I've told you any of this, okay?

I could get in a lot of trouble for sharing

this with civilians.

We've managed to keep the link between these murders

out of the press so far, but that won't last forever.

Seven murders over 16 months.

The problem is, no two are alike.

Oh, that's odd.

Serial killers usually have some sort of pattern.

Not this one.

First two murders were in Dublin, then one in Galway,

then back to Dublin, then two in Limerick

before coming back to Dublin once more for the latest.

Someone who travels?

We've thought of that.

We're looking at taxi drivers, truck drivers, train drivers,

sports teams, traveling salespeople,

anyone with a reason to travel around the country.

But the list is very long, and there's no guarantee

our perp's even on it.

He or she might just travel about because, well, they can.

Victims are different ages, sexes.

They were killed in different ways.

The victims and the killings, they

all seem to be totally random.

And the problem with that is that when the killings are

so random, there's very little chance of catching the killer

unless they make a mistake.

- How can you be so sure it's only one killer and not seven

different, unrelated killers?

- Because they do have one thing in common.

All the victims had a coin placed

in their mouths post mortem.

Charon's obol.

Yeah.

Charon's what ball?

- [exhales] It's a practice back in ancient Greece.

People would pay Charon, the ferryman,

to take the dead across the River Styx into the afterlife.

They would place a coin in the deceased's mouth.

- Nothing special about the coins--

only they are the old style.

All have been cleaned, no fingerprints at all.

Can we keep this?

As long as you don't lose it.

I could get severely reprimanded if anyone

finds out I've done this.

Oh, you're desperate then?

I am.

I'm under a lot of pressure from HQ to solve this.

Okay, we'll do it.

You just have to give us a little time

to get our thinking caps on.

Okay.

But absolutely no investigating.

We're agreed on that, right?

Absolutely.

We hear you.

- I can't tell if I've just made a terrible mistake or not.

- Oh, I'm sure you haven't, Charlie, dear.

- We're totally going to investigate, right?

Of course, we are.

[music playing]

♪

Oh, do put her down.

You can get into trouble for doing that sort of thing

these days.

Lola, could you get us some flat whites?

- You know, I was hoping I'd be more

involved in the actual cases.

But it's not what we need.

You know, we already discussed that.

What we need is someone to pick up the phone

and pick up flat whites.

Got it.

- So did you manage to look at Charlie's case notes

last night?

Yeah, yeah, I did.

And to be honest, I can't see where to begin.

The killer could be just about anyone in Ireland.

- Well, it's not me. - Or me.

So there's two off the list.

And I'd wager it's not Lola, either.

What about taxis.

Victims number two and number four

were both seen returning in taxis.

- Yeah, victim number two, Sally Casey,

her neighbor saw her come home in the early hours,

dropped off by a taxi.

And victim number 4, Lloyd Gorman,

was seen getting into a taxi by a friend after a night out.

Sally's body was found at her home.

She had been strangled.

And Lloyd was found on waste ground in Coolmine.

He'd been stabbed.

But I'm guessing there's no point in talking

to Lloyd Gorman's friend because what's

he going to tell us that he hasn't already told the guards.

But what about Sally Casey's neighbor?

I mean, who knows?

Maybe he remembers something, or maybe the guards didn't

ask the right questions.

Yeah.

He's the killer.

Based on?

He's a campervanner.

I mean, he shouldn't even be allowed on the road,

especially not when I'm driving.

- Yeah, very forward-thinking of you.

- You know, there's a special circle

of hell reserved for people who like campervans.

Hello there.

Can I help you?

- I'm sorry because he's definitely the killer.

Hi.

[music playing]

♪

Thank you.

Thanks.

How long have you lived here, Mr. Naughton?

- Oh, uh, well, my wife and I would have

bought this place in 2006.

- Well, you and your wife must love minimalism, then.

- Oh, you mean, the lack of furnishings.

No, no.

No.

Having a bit of a trial separation at the moment.

And Helen, that's my wife, she took a few things with her

when she left, and, well, I didn't see the point

in replacing them because she's just

going to bring them with her when she comes back, so.

- Did your wife see anything the night

Sally Casey was murdered?

The police report didn't mention her being questioned.

No, no.

We had already started our trial separation by then.

- Well, Sally Casey was killed 14 months ago.

That's a very long trial separation.

Yes, I suppose.

She's actually living under the go

with a fella, used to be a neighbor, as it happens.

Well, that's all just something that she needs to get

out of her system, you know?

- [nervous laughter] So, as we understand it,

you woke up in the night, needed a glass of water,

and happened to see Sally arriving home by taxi.

Yep, that about sums it up.

- You were quite specific about the time.

1:36, you said?

Yes.

Well, I remember looking at the clock

and thinking that it was late, and

I knew that Sally would be up for work the next day, so.

Oh, you knew Sally well?

No, not really.

Just a nod to.

She'd only moved in quite recently,

but I like to start every day with a quick 10 miles

up on the bike.

So I used to see her when she was leaving.

- Which window did you see her from?

Because I just noticed when we came in

that your kitchen is at the back of the house,

so you couldn't have seen her from there?

Hmm.

Yeah, I don't think the guys asked that question, actually.

No, no.

I--I came in here.

I was looking for something to read.

At 1:30 in the morning?

- Well, in case I couldn't get back to sleep, you know?

But there are no books here.

- No, it was a cycling magazine to which I subscribe.

- There's no clock in here, so how could

you be so sure of the time?

- No, that's-- [clears throat] that's true.

Ah, I remember.

It was the bedroom.

The curtains weren't properly closed, I noticed.

And then when I went to close them, that's when I saw.

- Oh, well, that explains everything.

Could we take a look up there?

What?

I'd rather not.

I mean, it's--it's rather messy, living alone, you know.

Yeah.

I mean, we should probably call the guards anyway.

- Shouldn't we Harry? - Oh, should, yeah.

- If they hadn't thought to ask Mr. Naughton

that question, they might want to re-interview him.

Absolutely.

- Well, I'd rather not have the guards back actually.

It was quite intrusive.

You know, maybe you could have a quick look.

He's hiding something.

Clearly.

[door creaks open]

Not very messy, Mr. Naughton.

- Well, I shudder to think what your bedroom must

look like, then, young man.

Anyway, there is the clock.

You see?

So, shall we head back down?

- That reminds me of something, Harry--

that soap opera director who had his throat cut.

Yes, I remember.

The tripod from the film camera made the same marks.

Do you have a telescope or a camera, Mr. Naughton?

- No. No, no, no.

No, nothing like that.

[clears throat] But I really do need to get on, so.

Of course.

After you.

[music playing]

♪

Oh.

[tense music]

♪

- I must say, you've been very helpful, Mr. Naughton.

- Of course, a terrible business that.

Where is your--

[tense music]

♪

What do you think you're doing?

- Oh, it turns out, Harry, that Mr. Naughton

here is a peeping Tom.

- Naughty, naughty, Mr. Naughton.

Now, you can either talk to us or you can talk to the guards.

Your choice.

- Did you video Sally Casey coming home that night?

[indistinct chatter]

- You go back--

- Vicky, Cormac. - Afternoon.

Harry, Ferg.

- Cormac, how was the match on Sunday?

We won, easily.

- 161-D-25900.

What's that?

- The license plate of the taxi that brought Sally Casey home.

You investigated, didn't you?

I specifically told you not to.

No, tie it down, Charlie.

It was just a little bit.

- How am I going to explain this?

- I don't know. Anonymous tip?

- You may also want to go back and talk to Colin Naughton.

That's Sally Casey's neighbor.

See, he knows when she came home

because he's a peeping Tom.

He filmed her.

[music playing]

♪

Yeah.

Go back.

Stop.

- License plate is registered to a Barry McGeeney.

Oh, Hello.

He's got a prior conviction for manslaughter,

killed a pedestrian under the influence.

That was five years ago.

Thank you, Harry and Fergus.

You're welcome.

- Just had an anonymous tipoff on the taxi spotted

outside Sally Casey's house.

Driver has a prior.

Go pick him up, bring him in for questioning.

Then find out who did the initial interview

of Colin Naughton and find out why they didn't

discover he's a pervert.

On it, Boss.

[dog barking]

[knocks]

We're here now.

Be on standby.

Barry McGeeney?

Yeah.

Nuh.

Yeah.

I'll get him for you.

[clears throat] Barry, it's for you.

Hey, hey, hey!

Go around!

[chase music]

♪

- Oh, Barry, we're supposed to be at my Ma's.

[chase music]

♪

Stop!

Suspect apprehended.

Send the car around.

We got an alibi.

- My client ran because of a misunderstanding.

He assumed you were there because his taxi

license has expired.

- Less expired and more never existed Mr. McGeeney

drives a taxi illegally.

- On the other matter, my client

has an alibi for all seven dates you've asked about.

For all of them?

- You do realize that's very unusual?

- That so maybe, but nevertheless.

And what are those alibis?

His girlfriend has given him an alibi for all seven murders.

She's lying.

Perhaps.

But we have no physical evidence.

We've got nothing to hold him on.

Have you questioned her?

- She's a proper hard shell, that one.

I like McGeeney for this.

A lot fits, but if we can't prove it--

[sighs] We'll stay on him.

I'll let you know if we get anywhere.

A woman is like a trifle.

You've got your sponge fingers, your custard, cream,

cherries, flaked almonds.

Think about it.

I don't get it.

Take your sponge fingers.

They're hard.

Right?

Soak them in a drop of sherry.

So I should get her drunk?

Oh, no.

No the sherry is just a metaphor.

A metaphor for what?

I don't know.

I lost my train of thought.

Let me start again.

Glenn, wine.

Right you are, Harry.

Malky, don't listen to Glenn.

I just heard from Lenny's.

- Your father shouldn't be allowed to talk to Glenn.

- Very few people should be allowed to talk to Glenn.

- [laughs] - Come here.

Have a look at this.

I think I've found something, some kind of movement.

What is it?

I don't know.

But there is something or someone there.

- I'm not seeing what you're seeing,

but something's moving there.

But--play it again.

Could be anything.

Yeah, or nothing.

[grunts]

Of course.

[dramatic music]

♪

It's about a man, a psychiatrist,

that starts living his life according to the roll of a die.

He doesn't decide anything for himself anymore.

The dice does.

Okay, so what's your point?

- Well, eventually, it leads to murder.

The video, the glint.

Oh my god, it was on the tip of my brain.

But it's so obvious what it is.

It's a coin.

Someone is there watching Sally Cassie's house,

and they flip a coin.

Heads, I kill her.

Tails, I don't.

Jesus!

- And the coin in the mouth, it's the one

that decides their fate.

Now, our killer's more binary than Rhinehart.

Kill or don't kill.

If kill, how?

Stab? Strangle?

Drown?

There's no pattern to it, Fergus.

The very lack of MO is their MO.

Wait.

So hold on.

That means Barry McGeeney's not the killer?

No.

But he may have seen who it was.

[dramatic music]

♪

Mr. McGeeney.

Who are you?

You're private detectives.

It seems unlikely.

- We'd like to talk to you about Sally Casey.

- Yeah, I've got nothing to say.

We don't think you did it.

Tell that to the pigs.

Happily.

Though, we think there's a possibility that you

saw who actually did do it.

Well, I didn't see anything.

- Look, we think the killer was across the road

when he dropped her off.

Didn't see anyone.

Leave me alone.

- The guard that's investigating is my son.

I can talk to him.

I can have him back off of you.

- Can you get him to give me back my taxi license?

- I heard you don't actually have a license, so.

- I just want to make an honest living.

You help us.

We'll help you.

I have nothing to tell you.

Now, piss off.

Now what?

No idea.

I told Charlie our theory, but he was

less than enamored with it.

Do you think they have cameras in that neighborhood?

Too residential?

Oh, well, then we're nowhere.

Hey.

It's been nagging at me, that poor girl

getting murdered like that.

I'm not talking to no guards.

But I didn't see anyone when I dropped her off,

but my girlfriend lied for me, said I went straight home,

but I didn't.

I stayed out another couple of hours.

Look, I don't know if it's any use,

but my actual last fare was from the same neighborhood

right around the corner from where that woman died.

Some fella flagged me down.

I almost didn't stop.

There was something about him.

How do you mean?

I don't know.

He gave me the creeps.

Can you describe him?

Not really.

I didn't see his face.

He was about my height, but, you know, skinny.

He had dark clothes on and a hat over his head.

He kept that on the whole time, but pulled down like.

- How did he pay? Did he use a credit card?

No.

Cash.

But I can tell you where I dropped him, at that all

night café by the Docklands.

What time was that?

Maybe 3:30, just after.

- There can't be that many customers

at 3:30 in the morning.

Maybe the café owner remembers him.

There's one other thing.

He stank to high heaven of cigars.

[dramatic music]

♪

[car horn honks]

You're joking me.

3:30 in the morning is one of our busiest times,

busier than now.

Can I remember who came in?

As if.

- Do you have any security camera footage?

Nah, never felt the need.

- The person we're looking for smells strongly of cigars.

Does that ring any bells?

- Most of the fellas who come in here

smell of something or other, hemorrhoid cream, BO,

and tobacco.

Take your pick.

Now what?

It's not like we can go around smelling everyone.

- Hemorrhoid cream, BO, and tobacco, I don't fancy that.

There is one thing all smokers have in common, though.

Yeah.

Lung cancer.

- They all congregate in the same place.

[upbeat music]

♪

Hey.

Can I bum one of those?

Yeah.

Thanks.

I'm trying to cut down.

You know what I should too.

You know what I really fancy?

A cigar.

Any one of you smoke cigars?

I did when my kid was born.

Occasionally, at Christmas.

- It's not worth it unless you can afford the good ones.

And I can't afford them on what I earn.

- So you don't know anyone who smokes cigars, then?

- Well, there is this one fella that

comes here from time to time.

He's always puffing away.

Well, what's his name?

- Well, I don't know him, never been introduced.

Seen him around recently.

Nah, not for ages.

It's the thing about being a trucker.

Your paths cross, or they don't.

He's a trucker, then, huh?

Why are you so interested?

No, no reason.

It's Roy.

What?

- I know the fella you're talking about.

I just always called him Roy.

He have a last name?

- Mm-hmm.

Orbison.

Oh.

- I don't actually know his real name.

I know he's crazy mad about Roy Orbison.

Who's Roy Orbison?

Youth.

Singer, "Pretty Woman," "Only the Lonely," "Crying."

Yeah, yeah.

You know, he always dresses in black,

always wears dark glasses.

- Well, would you know where we could find him?

I haven't a clue.

He comes in here the odd time, I see him.

Private detectives?

Really?

Call us if you see him.

Okay, that's something.

Well, where does it get us?

I don't know.

A trucker who loves Roy Orbison,

there can't be many of them.

I'll call Charlie.

Hello, Mick.

Yeah, it's Tommy from the café.

Yeah, that's right.

Listen, I don't want to worry you,

but there was a couple here asking about you.

- In other news, the government has

come under fire for the escalating housing crisis,

but has promised a large new build starting in 2015

with the construction process.

The opposition have called it--

Morning, love.

I'm getting ready to go to work if you want a lift.

- No, thanks. I'm good.

I like the walk.

- Just on my way in, and I had a thought.

Look, from everything everyone at the café was saying,

our cigar-smoking serial killer is a Roy Orbison superfan.

So?

- So all we need is some bait, something

no Roy Orbison superfan would ever be able to resist.

Like what?

- I don't know, a pair of sunglasses,

a recording, a first pressing of some record

or something like that.

I don't mean to be an alarmist, but I

think a truck is following me.

Describe it.

It's big, black.

I can't see the driver, but the license plate is 231-WW-89799.

- Okay, well, go somewhere busy and go into a shop

or knock on someone's door.

Sod that, I'm legging it.

[dramatic music]

[screams]

Okay, I think I lost him.

Good.

Now go somewhere where there are people,

and I'll give Charlie a call.

[music playing]

♪

Fergus?

Help!

Fergus?

[intense music]

♪

- I was just--

[clears throat]

Oh my god.

It's okay.

We're good.

- Well, did you check the plates?

Yeah.

It's a fake.

We've got patrols out looking for a black rig.

Can't be that many of them.

I just walked in on Vicky kissing Cormac.

Well, why not?

They've been dating for over a year.

What?

How do you know and I don't?

- Oh, you call yourself a detective?

Boss, you want to see this.

[phone buzzes]

Fergus?

Not Fergus, no.

Have you hurt him?

- Nah, a little bump in the noggin.

He's fine, for now.

But I want to meet with the both of you,

if you want to see your young friend alive again.

I want you to come and meet us, alone, no guards.

Don't be ridiculous.

You'd only kill me, too.

I'm not an idiot.

That remains to be seen.

You know Callery Bog, by the abandoned cottage?

30 minutes.

If I see anyone with you, the boy dies.

[melancholic music]

Tell me how you found me.

Don't lie to me, boy.

I'll know.

It was the taxi driver, okay.

The taxi driver who picked you up after you

killed Sally Casey, he remembered

dropping you at an all-night café

and we asked around for a cigar smoker.

- You told the guards about that place?

I guess I can't go back there anymore.

Damn it.

[loud thud] Damn it!

They do a mean chicken fillet roll.

Right.

Let's get this over with, shall we?

Heads, you live.

Tails, you'll die.

- Just, just-- hold on a second.

Just hold on.

Don't, don't, don't, don't, don't.

Please, please.

Well, that's a bother.

[snarls]

Now, what am I going to do with you?

You stay put.

Maybe we'll toss again when I get back

from meeting your partner.

[grunts, groans]

Come on.

[strains, screams]

[suspenseful music]

♪

Okay.

Okay.

[fast music]

♪

Where's Fergus?

- Alive, for now, but somewhere where no one

will ever find him without me.

[flicks switch, whirring]

[gasping]

Tell me, why do you do it?

Why would I tell you that?

- Well, it must be frustrating, you know,

committing the perfect crime but no one knows?

- They are indeed the perfect murders.

And as such, the guards will never be able to stop them.

And that's not an admission of guilt, by the way,

just in case you're wearing a wire.

We found you.

The guards will sooner or later.

Ugh, please.

The guards are a joke.

They couldn't catch a cold.

No, no, no, no, no.

Shit.

Shit, shit.

Where am I?

Oh, you've got to be shitting me.

[intense music]

♪

[upbeat music]

♪

Do you always wear this mask?

- No, this is just for your benefit.

I thought it was funny.

- The--the coin in the mouth, what's the significance

of that?

- Don't know your Greek mythology?

- So you are ferrying the dead to the afterlife, then?

- Let's just say it's a family tradition.

- If you're worried about me setting you up,

shooting me is quite an admission of guilt.

- Guards would never let it go on this long.

I've read up about you.

I think we're alone.

Don't you?

Let's see if you're as lucky as your young friend.

Heads, you live.

Tails, you die.

[intense music]

♪

Ah.

That's more like it, tails.

[gun clicks]

[gasps]

[siren wailing]

Brake, brake.

Brake, please.

No!

Don't move!

Don't move!

Moving in.

Move in.

You're boxed in.

You have nowhere to go.

Lay still.

- Arms behind your head. - Don't move.

Get him up.

Don't move.

Hands behind his back.

Pat him down.

We're arresting you on the suspicion

of multiple counts of murder.

Well, that'd be the last time you point a gun at my mother,

or anyone else for that matter.

Vicky, read him his rights, make the arrest.

Get him out of here.

You took your time, Charlie.

Oh, you drove.

You drove.

- I think I've worked it up. - Oh, yeah?

Let's hear it.

Okay, so you went from

Ireland to England to Hungary to Korea.

What do those countries have in common?

No idea.

Cabbage.

You're on the trail of a counterfeit kimchi ring.

Am I close?

I'm afraid not.

I could tell you.

- Oh, wait. - Oh.

- Target's on the move. I gotta go.

I'll talk to you later. Miss you.

Miss you.

Bye.

Oh, there she is.

Can't stay long.

- Date night with the old ball and chain?

- Oh, you did something different with your hair, Orla?

- No. Why?

Well, I don't know.

I mean, it's just something different about you.

I like it, though, whatever it is.

Thanks.

I think.

- What did you want to talk about?

- I don't think Mick Brady did this on his own.

Based on what?

He's confessed to everything, has details

only the killer could know.

There's nothing that suggests a second killer.

- But there are inconsistencies.

Look, when he was following Fergus, Fergus ran.

Have you seen him run?

I mean, it's ridiculously fast.

How far did you go?

About a kilometer or so.

- Well, I mean, Mick Brady's a man in his late 60s,

not particularly fit.

Well, he would have had to park that massive truck,

get out of it, and then run off to Fergus, which is unlikely.

That's what he says happened.

- And then, when I asked him about the mask,

he said, I thought it was funny.

No.

He accented the "I," like, as if he thought it was funny,

but someone else didn't.

That doesn't prove anything.

Enjoy your wine.

Get some rest, Ferg.

Oh, maybe you're right.

Yeah, maybe I'm overthinking it.

[suspenseful music]

♪

[door slams shut]

[mysterious music]

♪

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