All language subtitles for Jack.Taylor.S02E01.400p.ViruseProject

Sarah!

What happened?

An ambulance! Call an ambulance!

Good woman. You broke a personal record there.

Don't we make a grand strolling pair?

My mother seven months into recovery from a stroke.

Me, celebrating six months on the dry.

Friend.

Your father.

Disgusting.

Jack? What have you done?

That?

Greek yogurt.

It's supposed to be good for my stomach.

Yogurt? Fix you?

Could I've a quick word??

Jennings made detective?

Keith Jennings?

And you want his number to congratulate him.

Jennings is hardworking. He's a team player.

Team player. You mean he plays hurling.

And hard working? Jennings has to work
hard just to cover his own fuh... mess ups.

That suicide? The Bradley girl? Where are we?

As well as the fall, there's signs of an overdose.

Toxicology should be back later today.

Look, Kate.

You'll make detective.

You've been a 'buck-shee' for what, four months?

Five. Five months.

I did a year.

Do things by the book.

And be seen to be doing them by the book.

Thank you, Detective Sergeant.

A horrible tragedy. Beyond misery for her family.

But you didn't ask me here to
see if I know any good elegies.

You have a reputation.

A skilled finder of lost things, hidden things, truths.

Easy, Professor. Flattery goes straight to my head.

I become insufferable.

The Guards seem content with a verdict of suicide.

And perhaps they are right. Perhaps.

What about misadventure?

A student gets high on something and, well.

Very temporarily, gets high on something else.

There was a note, wrapped around Sarah's wedding finger.

What'd it say?

Only the Guards know.

Maybe they told the family.

You say Sarah was a drama student?

She dropped one of my Drama courses last year.

As I recall, she didn't have a
particular talent or interest.

Sarah was brimming with self confidence.

I really cannot accept she chose to end her life.

I'm asking you to look into it.

And I'm willing to pay.

The blood tests are due in tonight. We'll know more then.

But it's looking like heroin.

Seriously? Her arms marked up?

A single puncture mark. Must be her first time out.

Not exactly your usual, down home
variety smack overdose, is it?

That's the note that was wrapped around her finger.

This was done on an actual old typewriter.

Holes punched in the paper.

"It is I who am desolate, I, Sarah,
that will not live till I am old."

That's Deirdre.

Who?

It's from Deirdre of the Sorrows
by John Millington Synge.

The line is Deirdre's, it's just been changed to Sarah here.

And the costume. She's a perfect Deirdre.

What? As soon as I left, did the Garda training college

stop teaching the great tragic fairy tales of Ireland?

Jack, you know why I asked you to come here.

I get summoned so often to the apartments
of young ladies, I stopped questioning it.

It's one thing, you seeing a file in passing that,
say like this, I've carelessly left lying around.

But I can't bring you evidence or
make you copies like this anymore.

This about hassle from above, that
new Detective Sergeant? Griffin?

This is about my career.

About trying to do things 'by the book'.

Oh, Jesus. You're kidding me.

- I'll change it.
- Do not.

This is from my day and all that.

The unmissable slow dance set.

Here's how the story goes.

Deirdre was born one of the world's great beauties.

And King Conchubhar of Ulster vowed when
she was of age, he would marry her.

He had her raised safe and deep in a forest where
no lusty warrior could fall in love with her.

That rings a bell.

By the time Deirdre came of age,

the king was a crusty old devil and Deirdre was headstrong.

She fell in love with a handsome young warrior,

Naisi, and they ran off to Scotland together.

Where, for seven years, they lived in bliss.

But Deirdre was too independent to live in hiding.

She insisted they come home to face the old king together.

To demand their freedom.

And?

Hello? I'll be down in one minute.

It's Griffin. He's early.

Anything interesting?

Come on. I told you a story.

And I got you pictures. So, evens?

Blow out the candles. Pull the latch after you.

Oh, what happens? Deirdre of the Sorrows.

They come home to face the king. And?

The king has Deirdre's lover murdered.

And rather than marry the king, Deirdre kills
herself to join her lover in the grave.

So. Deirdre of the Sorrows. Verdict suicide.

So I'm starving and thinking a spicy Thai.

Maybe a fiery Mexican.

But no, Kate Noonan's into hospital food?

We're not here for the hospital.
We're here for the morgue.

And this is the only puncture mark?

The blood tests are unusual.

There was heroin in her system.
But that wasn't the overdose.

Sarah OD'ed on hospital grade morphine.

Enough to kill her, if the fall hadn't.

Morphine and heroin in one injection?

No, only morphine was injected.

But they found traces of aluminium on her lungs.

Ah, God. From smoking off of the hot foil.

How long was she chasing the dragon?

She'd been smoking heroin for probably more than a year.

So.. she decides on suicide and wants to
exit on something purer than street brown.

Only question is how she got hold of morphine.

We could check the hospital for patient prescriptions.

That'll take a court order... OK.

That's not the only question.

The dressing up. The literary note. It feels wrong.

Put heroin in the mix. Lots of
things will stop seeming wrong.

Hi Lynda. Good to see you.

I can say hello to Lynda.

You're looking well.

Likewise, Jack.

And that's the small talk done.

Let's roll. First case in months.

Do you have a leash and a muzzle for him?

For now, you'll have to take him as he is.

See you, Linda.

So I read that play you were talking about.
Deirdre of the... whatever.

Well, a bit of it. Hard going. But I found something.

Look here. Start of Act Two.

"I came in the shower was before the dawn."

And?

I came in the shower! Brilliant.

Great. You already sound like a student.

You're going to attend Sarah's lectures.

Get the measure of her classmates. Her lecturers.

You're sending me to school?

If it helps, think of it as undercover work.

Those and those, open. That, shut.

Professor Gorman. Your client, right?

You know him?

We interviewed him of course.

He doesn't believe that Sarah fell.

Fell? Not jumped?

Aren't the guards still thinking suicide?

That's the line.

And Sarah had a long drug history.

So. If she was alone, how did she
do up all those dress hooks.

Jack, put that away.

Come on. The rosary is about to kick off.

I can feel it.

Professor Gorman. Garda Kate Noonan.

Good to see you again, Garda.

A development. It turns out your
expertise could be of some use.

Perhaps you misremember.

My expertise is dusty Irish literature.

Yes. And we need to talk about John Millington Synge.

Jack, that isn't public.

Have you met Lawrence Doyle?

He taught Sarah before this terrible business.

Jack Taylor and Garda Noonan.

They're piecing together what happened to Sarah.

Personal interest, Mister Taylor?

Just an interest in the truth.

Let me know if I can help.

For now, running late.

So. John Millington Synge?

Visit me whenever you like.

Company is always welcome.

Five minutes Jack, and please.. No funny stuff.

Hello? Yeah I just popped by Sarah Bradley's... OK.

What the hell do you think you're doing?

See a typewriter anywhere?

Out now. There's nothing here.

We already took her smoking stash.

These books. This random collection.

Strange for a student.

Every one of them came from the same shop.

Downstairs. Now.

Griffin's coming by and I can't have him seeing you.

What's he doing here?

I'm a concerned citizen, touched by a local tragedy.

I'm here to pay my respects. Something wrong with that?

I know about you, Taylor.

You're not a journalist and you're not a cop.

What you are, is trouble.

That sounds familiar.

Did you send me a Valentine's last year?

OK, Taylor..

The Guards don't consider this a murder.

I'd hate to think I was
interfering with an investigation?

There are people mourning in there.

Are you coming, Kate?

I told you about doing things 'by the book'

and the next day, I find you giving that crazy

bastard a guided tour of a dead girl's home?

Kate?

Look... I know you go back a ways.

But if you're going to get ahead, scrape that guy off.

At the age of fifty one, compelled
apparently by his horoscope,

W.B. Yeats proposes to Maud Gonne.

For the fourth time.

Failing, he turns immediately to
Maud's twenty-one year old daughter.

No success there?

Within the year he'd proposed to Georgie Hyde Lees.

Wedding bells at last.

Had Yeats invented a new complex
wilder than that of Oedipus?

Are these three women to remain mere
blameless objects in this story?

What do we know of the spells they cast over the man?

Tomorrow, for answers, we look to the master's poetry.

Thank you, everyone take one of these...!

Oedipus was a Greek king who
fell in love with his mother.

He killed his father so he could marry her.

And it's spelled O.E.D.I.P.U.S.

You spying on me or something?

Well, if you're final year English
and you don't know Oedipus Rex,

you probably need someone watching out for you.

Yeah, thanks for that. See you.

So it's obvious you're not a real student.

What is it? Are you here scouting girls?

Are you a pervert? Jesus, you're a pervert!

I'm not a... pervert. Keep your voice down.

The girl who died. Sarah Bradley.

I'm looking into her death.

That is just fucking... Cool like.

So, who's in the frame?

Sarah was a right little bitch, you know.

Kind of disappeared from college, the last few months.

But before that... ladies, lock up your boyfriends.

When the rumour went around that she was smoking heroin.

I was even like, 'good, hope it
kills you, you little witch.'

Oh, God. Am I evil, like?

I've met a few evil people, Sheena.
I don't think you cut it.

Anyway I wasn't the only one thought that stuff.

Sarah Bradley was the uber queen of the bitches.

God rest her.

I think she even had a thing with him.

Doctor Lawrence Doyle.

And now, you buy me two cocktails.

Happy hour for Sheena!

For what? For the info on Doyle?

I work part time in college admin.

I have complete access to all records.

Thank you.

One of the perks of sobriety.

Back behind the wheel. After how many years?

Not counting.

Oh. Oh dear. Poor Sarah.

"And it stretched upon the
gravel will be my bed tonight."

So says Deirdre.

Are you sure that I can't tempt you?

Full disclosure, Professor.

I'm on the wagon. For today.

Well I admire your candour.

Now... What do you have here?

The note from Sarah's finger.

Yes well I think we can
rule out the involvement of
John Millington Synge and say

that this is just an astonishingly good copy.

Jack, how the devil did you get access to these things?

Garda Noonan?

You are an intriguing man.

Stop calling me professor, call me Euegne.

Fine, anyway, the play.

Well the text is suffused with death and murder.

Synge himself died before its completion,

Yates and Molly Allgood finished the work.

Always seemed like the feminist thing to me,

Deirdre always makes her own choices. She's strong...

independent, maybe Sarah was too.

That is one reading. You could also say that

Deidre was a selfush beauty who cared for her own wishes,

and in following them she spread
sorrow and death all around her.

Oh, my wife used to dance around here. I can
still see her disapearing among the trees.

Laughing, appearing again.

Sorry, she passed away?

Ah yes, four years ago. Cancer.

Far too benile an end for a women of her high drama.

You know, at first she despised it out here,

she thought that I had kidnapped
her away from the bright lights.

From the drama of Galway city.

Humour my own inquisition.

Your Garda friend. Kate Noonan?

Did I detect a special relationship there?

No, no... no. Kate's just as you said.

My Garda friend.

Someone once told me, the Guards don't have friends.

Isn't that air just glorious?

Help you, sir?

John Millington Synge.

Irish playwright and poet.

What can you do for me?

I think we're all out.

How much for the typewriter?

Five grand. It belonged to William Burroughs.

- I'll need to try it.
- You'll need to fuck off.

I know who you are. Taylor, isn't it?

You go around playing private
eye and getting people killed.

That's the gist of it, yes.

What about the girl?

She bought a lot of books here.

She jumped off a roof in the college.

Do you think it was something she read?

You really don't look like the
knife carrying type. But me?

I don't have to talk to you.

You're not a cop.

So everyone keeps reminding me.

I know who my students are.

And you're not one of them.

But you been at all my lectures this week.

I'm just interested in learning.

About, you know, Yeats and Oedipus And... the lads.

You got a crush on me?

No! Why is it that because I'm studying
everybody thinks I'm a weirdo?

Fine. Feel free to attend my lectures.

You probably pay more attention than most of them anyway.

But stop tailing me.

And tell Jack Taylor to keep his nose out of my business.

Carol just waits. What's enough to go?

What did you do? Hard enough.

You says he's an old creep, because of he's doing, erm?

Whoa. Jesus...

Oedipus! Didn't you recognise me?

I suppose 'dead girl' is kind of in bad taste.

Considering your investigation.

I was informed you're reliably to be found here.

Professor. Eugene. Ah... a whisky Jeff, please.

And also I realised I owed you your first payment.

Well I admit to a fascination.

The cryptic clues. The femme fatale.

The hardboiled investigator.

More fried than hardboiled right now.

But why here? You don't drink.

- I doubt you're a sporting fan.
- Hey now, I follow a bit of footie.

But the real attraction, Eugene.

The atmosphere.

Fables Bookshop?

The owner... could be a heroin supplier...

But I don't want to scare him
out of business before he can
be shaken down properly.

Shaken down... That's marvellous.

Karen, where're you going?

Come back here.

C'mere for a sec I wanna get a photo... stand there.

Alright big zombie smile...

- Lovely.
- Thank you.

I need you to get me something from college records.

The fella missing an eye.

It's Ronan Myers.

About six months ago, he went on a
spree and beheaded three swans.

I think the last one got his eye out in the process.

Can't believe he's not locked up.

It's a long while men have been talking
about Deirdre; the child who had all gifts.

And the beauty that has no equal.

Give me a break. I'm down to five a day.

And it's a pretty subtle torture.

And suffering Jesus... Jeff!

That muck's been on all day.

Jack?

Do you know him?

Oh, yes. I do. From campus.

Ronan Myers, isn't it?

There was some unfortunate business with swans.

Diagnosed psychotic if I'm correct.

He's on a special program.

You think he's a fit for Sarah Bradley's killer?

I'd like a word with him.

No it's not that...

Oh, it's not even funny anymore...

Who knows...

Karen?

They warned me about you Karen,
they said you'd be like this.

I should have listened to them.

Karen?

Jack! How are ya! You got here finally.

Me and Sheena are an item!

- You're fucking having me on.
- I know, it's unbelievable isn't it?

She's a real catch!

God that's some river, listen to it go.

How's your mother?

How are you is the question. What the hell are you on?

Sheena bought these pills off Ronan
this was hours ago. Just to make sure.

But he's gone now. I think he's done for the night.

So we thought okay, do a half.

You know the way.

I thought it would have worn off by now.
But it's just better and better.

Don't worry, Jack. I'm on!

And I looked into Ronan's file.

He's an outpatient on probation.

Part of a new programme to see if college can help.

Keep his mind active and that.

Ronan!

Ronan!

Ronan! Stop!

Go on ya boy ya!

That's dirty fighting you!

Ronan.

I just want to talk to you.

Aww... aww... fuck! I'm dying.

I just want to talk to you.

I'm slinging a bit of hash and e.

Nothing bigger. No powders or that.

Just for pocket money.

And I don't touch the stuff myself.

I mean I can't.. You know the way.

I'm on good meds. Anti psychotics.

Strong stuff.

You want some hash? Yokes?

Cody. Go on back to your girl
or go home. Whatever you like.

You're not mad at me?

You did good. Go on.

Dirty fighting, you.

I quit the booze after what happened.

Nowhere to hide!

Gotcha...

Jack? What have you done? ...just get out of here.

I'm sorry, you know, the eye.

I never understood why you didn't shot me.

Because you did me a favour, Jack.

You stopped me.

What would I have done next?

You're doing your best to get better, right?

There's no point to kicking yourself.

There's always a queue of
people ready to do that for you.

You won't tell them you saw me dealing.

I didn't tell on you, sure I didn't?

My lips are sealed, Ronan.

I'm supposed to be on a curfew, y'know?

But the window.

They don't know the lock's busted.

Can I ask you about something else?

The dead girl? She was a wild one.

She tried to score heroin.

This is over a year ago. Before...

She was getting it somewhere. Any ideas?

I sent her to the only guy I knew of.

But you didn't hear this from me, okay?

The guy's a total psycho.

Aren't we all...?

- Kate, how are ya? Morning!
- Morning!

Karen Lowe. She's not officially missing.

Her parents were in town last night.

She was supposed to meet them for dinner.

They can't believe she stood them up.

I met them and I can believe it just fine.

Same year and studying the same
subjects as Sarah Bradley.

Yeah... ah she'll probably turn up in
some bed-sit in Sligo. Lost her phone.

Look, start with friends and family.

By the time you're done - Karen will be back...

with no apologies or thanks.

Dealing straight out of the bookshop?

Apparently the password is 'do you have any house music?'

- Bit dated, isn't it?
- That's the idea, I suppose.

You think he could have killed Sarah?

Drugs. Literature. A reputation as a bit of a psycho.

Knife under the desk. It's worth a rattle.

And I thought, after half-blinding
someone on my last citizen's arrest.

Better pass this one to you.

Who's your source?

Pitiful for want of pity.

What?

It's from Deirdre of the Sorrows by Synge.

You know, Synge. One of Dad's favourites.

Not pitiful. Just bad. Pure bad.

Pure bad.

Yeah we thought so too... alright,
let us know when it' in play.

Drug Squad will start surveillance
on the bookshop straight away.

What's straight away?

They'll be in place tonight, maybe the morning

The same year, look... studying the
same subjects just look at them.

I think Karen's in danger.

That's a suicide and a missing
girl; there's no proven connection.

Who's your lead on this bookshop?

They don't want to be identified.

Right.

Karen Lowe, they're saying she's gone missing.

Apparently Doyle had a thing with
her as well as Sarah Bradley.

Gone one day.

Does that even count as missing with students?

He knows we're on to him. He warned me off.

And now you're jumping ahead.

Mum.

Call an ambulance Cody!

Ma... Ma...

It's this hour we're between the daytime
and a night where there is sleep forever,

and isn't it a better thing to be following on

to a near death, than to be bending the head down...

This is Karen Lowe.

Don't miss me as Deirdre of the Sorrows.

One performance only.

She was always giving out about
the availability of private room...

who was getting them.

She'd have loved this.

Taylor! We need to talk.

Fine.

So you know where I want go.

Okay, listen. Maybe you're a guy
who tries to do the right thing.

And maybe you keep fucking up.

It's me... your son.

Pure bad.

You need to stay away from Kate,

both professionally and personally,
you'd be doin' her a favour.

Why?

It's not complicated, just stay away from her.

Fuck!

Fuck's sake!

Find anything you like?

Got any house music?

This way.

What the fuck are you doing here?

My regular guy. They picked him up.

Didn't even get bail. I'm in need.

I just want your help.

If you're really in bad need, I'd love to help.

But I need a little convincing.

Could you think of something you could
do to show me how bad you're in need?

Yeah, whatever you want.

Can you fix me up first.

And then, whatever you want?

I can have skag hag action anytime.

I'll take you straight.

I'll show you goods.

Get you in the mood.

I don't use needles. I smoke.

We can work that too.

Lovely black tar.

There's no reason we can't both enjoy this.

Bitch!

You were right. I really enjoyed that.

How was it for you?

You bitch. What are you? A cop?

Where is she? Where's Karen?

I don't know any fucking Karen!

Where is she?

I don't know! I haven't seen her in a week.

She picked up her usual and left.

You're saying she's a user?

You didn't know that?

This is Karen Lowe.

Don't miss me as Deirdre of the Sorrows.

One performance only.

In the place that bears the name of my author,

'John Millington Synge'.

She said the place that bears Synge's name.

There's Synge Street in Dublin or, what
'bears his name?', Synge's grave?

Also in Dublin. But, Galway?

They've acquired a site for development here

on campus it's going to be called the J.M. Synge Hall.

Jack.

This place is deserted most of the time.

He had as long as he needed.

Yeah and he would have needed time the sick fuck.

What happened to your eye?

Jack Taylor happened.

Why? How?

I gave him a final warning to stay away from this case.

You mean to stay away from me?

While you're on this case, that's the same thing.

Jack received a direct message from the killer

and until now, you insisted this wasn't even a case.

I admit I was wrong about the girls.

You were right and I should have listened to you.

But, Kate...

I know Jack was your lead on that bookshop.

And you could have been killed.

I made an assessment and I found
the degree of risk acceptable.

Well the next time, let me have a
say in that assessment. Please.

I know you had your ideas about Mary and me.

That was more between us.

Perhaps an affair even?

It crossed my mind.

The last thing people seem to expect
from a priest these days is decency.

We were friends, Jack.

We leaned on each other.

And yes, in the most innocent way.

I loved Mary. I loved her.

I'm glad she had that.

And I'm glad for you too.

Thanks.

There's your glass.

Okay. Thanks, Lewis.

What are that pair doing here?

Those are friends of my father.

Knowing they were here, it would mean a lot to my mother.

Cody?

I wanted to say sorry.

About Doyle.

What do you mean?

You had your suspicions early on.

I shot you down.

I should have listened.

The guards have him now.

We'll know soon enough if there's something to it.

You shouldn't be thinking about all that anyway.

Day that's in it, Jack.

I was gonna head off.

You gonna be alright?

If I need your counseling services, I'll let you know.

Do.

Thanks for coming lads.

Allegations of gross moral turpitude.

Is that's what it's called when
a lecture sleeps with a students?

Gross moral turpitude.

That's what it's called.

What do you have to say about the allegations?

What I have to say is, these
allegations were made by Jack Taylor.

These photos were taken the day Karen disappeared.

Those photos were taken by
Taylor's weasel-faced sidekick.

It doesn't matter who took the photos.
It matters who's in them.

One more time, detective, am I being charged?

Nahhh - you're just helping the
Garda with their enquiries.

This was found in your office.

Matches what Karen was wearing when last seen.

You know forensics will show this belongs to her.

Kate, sit down.

I'll save you the forensics.

I tutored Karen. She was in my office all the time.

She must have left it there.

We're going to go through your
home with a comb and a toothpick.

We are going to find Karen's DNA.

On your pillowcase. On your jim-jams.

Somewhere.

So, how are you doing?

There's times. Rare enough.

Just now and again. When it's really easy.

And you?

I get this great feeling sometimes,

when I realise have gone for days, weeks!

With nothing to feel guilty about.

That's good.

It sounds good.

Women and men handle grief differently.

Women can fall apart totally.

Let all the feelings out.

And then just get on with things.

Most men aren't used to handling the intense emotions.

A grieving man can lose his mind entirely,

cos he can't... get to the feeling in his heart.

Is that how you see me?

Is that how you see yourself?

Booze isn't the only way to forget your troubles, Jack.

Oh, God... Lynda... I just want.

I just want to escape everything. Everything.

Just for one night.

Just for even an hour, you know?

Evening.

Times like this, there are men
who have lines, entire speeches.

'Last night, it was very special'.

But... You are a wonderful woman.

But. And they have something to say after 'but'.

Jack. This has been lovely.

And you're, well, you're you.

But you understand, don't you?

I'm not looking for anything.

And praise Jesus. There are
women who have those lines too.

What is it?

Sounds like Cody. Quick.

Jesus!

Jack? I'm sorry Jack.

I know the night that's in it.

But I've found something.

It's important.

Just a minute, Cody. I'm coming!

What do I do?

Jesus. I don't know. Put on a hat?

Mum? Is that you?

Mum?

No way...

Ya didn't Jack..

Cody... Just relax... we're adults right?

Don't... for God's sake.

It's okay..

We're okay, Lynda.

So? What do you have to say that's so important?

Tidy roundhouse you've got there..

I'm sorry I hit you.

Like you said, you're both adults...

and it's not like I'm Oedipus or anything!

Anyway..

So I've been trying to get through the rest of the play.

Seriously. It's not my thing.

It's all - "there are as many ways to
wither love as there are stars in a night."

And Sheena said, let's try the college drama archives.

They have performances of nearly everything.

So this is ten years ago.

The College Drama Sock.

That's short for 'society'.

"Open the door and we'll go forward to the
little cabin between the ash tree and...

Your friend, Lawrence Doyle.

Naisi... Do not leave me, Naisi,
I am Deirdre of the sorrows.

The hottie.

Quite a hit on the Galway theatrical circuit.

She died young.

Her name was Isolde Branigan.

Right.

So you know who she was married to?

I didn't know she was married.

You...

So...

Isolde Branigan's husband..

DNA matches for both girls in your home.

That is not good.

It's not good. It's great.

Okay, listen.

Sarah just happened.

It was two years ago. A fling.

But Karen.

I was in love with Karen.

We were in love with each other.

Until what?

Until ended it when I found out.

Karen was using heroin.

She was smoking.

I wanted her to stop. I wanted her to get help.

But she wouldn't. Or she couldn't.

So I ended it. But I never hurt her.

Sarah was using too.

You have that affect on all the girls?

Sarah? Not when I was with her.

I never knew that.

We seriously can't hold him on suspicion?

You suspect him?

The truth. I think he's an exploitative old dirtbird.

But a killer? I doubt it.

You made some good intuitive leaps
early on and I tried to block you.

I should've listened.

I was wrong...

and I'm sorry.

That's big of you.

The drug squad will go heavy on
how you handled the bookshop.

They reckon you cut them off from bigger fish upstream.

But I want to make sure you're commended on this one.

Not because of any personal, you know?

What do you take me for?

Someone who likes a fiery Mexican.

It's late. Think that place is still open?

Not that late.

I'm sorry for barging down at short notice.

And the hour.

I said you anytime and I meant it, Jack.

Come in. Come in.

Isolde Branigan.

Made the role of Deirdre of the Sorrows her own.

Eugene, why didn't you tell me?

Let me show you something.

I nursed Isolde here.

And now, when I sleep at all, it's here.

I understand your mother passed away.

My sincere condolences.

Thank you.

May I ask, were you with her as she departed?

That is sad. That is a sorrow.

I was with Isolde as she went.

To brush eternity with one's hand.

It is a privilege.

We've had a dream but this night has waked us surely.

In a little while we've lived too long,

- Naisi and isn't it a poor thing
we should miss the...
- Oh, Isolde...

She was such a natural.

You might as well try to direct the weather.

But isn't she every bit as celestial?

Doyle. What a hack.

Really, I could do nothing with him.

Doyle had her. Did you know that?

Oh, yes. He was one of the first.

And I've long since forgiven him.

And there were others.

Many others.

But this Deirdre always returned to her old king. To me.

It's a different narrative.

My narrative.

Toward the end, Isolde grew hostile.

She enjoyed rubbing my old nose in old humiliations.

She told me every detail of what
her young lovers did with her.

With their strong fingers.

With their wet tongues.

Behold the cuckold.

I will never know what was truth and what

was simply made up to torture me.

But I forgot nothing.

Certainly not their names.

Names like Lawrence Doyle.

Names like Jack Taylor.

It was one night, long time ago.

I didn't even know she was married.

Oh, she was. She was.

Did you kill Sarah Bradley and Karen Lowe?

Do you expect me to answer such a blunt and

ugly accusation? Without evidence?

Jack Taylor. Must. Try. Harder.

Hard question to answer...

Well it was pretty fiery.

No... I got sick of Dublin.

Here we are.

Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?

Nice try, Luke. Good night.

Okay. See you tomorrow.

G'night.

G'day.

- Morning.
- Morning.

Karen Lowe's toxicology.

Again, signs of aluminium on the lungs.

But the overdose is hospital morphine.

Again, a sole puncture mark.

Expertly administered.

We have to get those hospital prescription records.

Yeah. I'll get a push on the court order.

Could get it through today.

The writing was probably done with syringe needles.

Blood flow indicates she was still alive...

when it happened.

Professor Gorman for you.

Garda Noonan. It's about Jack Taylor.

I admit the idea of being part
of an investigation excited me.

I'm an old sucker for dramatics.

About last night.

Yes... well, Jack had been drinking.

Whiskey, I'd say. Or speculate.

Anyway he made accusations. Said I was a killer.

I tried to eject him.

He was incoherent.

Shouting about the dead girls.

He was demanding a confession.

By this time I was on the floor.

He said..

I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

He said unrepeatable things about my wife.

Isolde passed away some years ago.

He... He had some kind of gadget.

Is it called a stun gun?

He used it on me and I passed out.

You'll... eh want to press charges.
I'll need a formal statement.

No, no. I'm sorry. I absolutely will not press charges.

Jack is disturbed and his mother
died just a couple of days ago.

What?

Yeah and it has obviously pushed him over the edge.

Just make sure he does no any more harm.

Even to himself.

I didn't lay a hand on him.

Kate, I swear. Believe me.

I've been trying to phone you.

Gorman killed those girls.

And while we're having a chat,
he's getting ready to kill again.

If Gorman's framing you, why didn't he press charges?

And God, I wish he have.

Cos I'd had you locked up by now.

I'd have you fucking sedated.

Ask Gorman about Isolde, his dead wife.

She played Deirdre.

He's obsessed with the play.

She's the whole reason he involved me in the first place.

The whole reason?

Revenge. I slept with her.

It was years ago.

You amaze me. I'm amazed.

How do you keep up with yourself?

Talk to Doyle.

He had a history with Gorman's wife too.

He can back up what I'm saying.

This is simple.

You stay away from the college.

You stay away from this investigation.

And above all, you stay away from Professor Gorman.

Do you think can you manage that??

Gorman confirmed Ronan's absence from

college and the clinic say that he's
missed maybe two day's medication.

And you really think he's a possible for the killer?

Ah it's hard to know for sure until he's back indoors.

In the meantime, with whereabouts unknown.

He's an extreme danger.

Here. You were part of his arrest
for the swan business, right?

Remember this?

"A swan's sorrow at the death of a partner

is one of the most beautiful things in nature."

And then, he goes AWOL the day
a second girl's body is found.

- Come on...
- I'm going to walk.

I've got some thinking to do.

Do you think Gorman kept the girls at his house?

I mean, Jesus, Jack he could have one there now.

- We should get up there.
- The house is isolated.

And I don't think he'd risk that, the
guards could visit routinely. No...

I think he has a special place.

His own little theatre.

I never got a chance to offer
my condolences on your loss.

And I didn't make it to the funeral.

I'm really sorry Jack.

You've been busy, barking up the wrong trees.

I thought you should know. Ronan Myers has gone missing.

They're pursuing him as a possible
suspect in these murders.

Ah now, look. I met Ronan a few nights ago.

He's screwed up. Psychotic, sure.
But he's basically a good kid.

And he's no murderer, Kate.

Go back a bit. You met him? And?

He's been dealing hash. Small time.

He was my lead to the bookshop.

He wanted to help.

You knew Ronan Myers was dealing drugs?

Both of you?

He was your lead on the bookshop.

Just get Gorman in.

Interview him as a consultant.

Keep him on Deirdre of the Sorrows.

He won't crack. But you, Kate, you'll see it.

I wouldn't say it at the station.

But the stun gun.

If Gorman is lying, how did he know about that?

Stun gun?

Cody, I uh...

I blinded Ronan Myers with his own stun gun.

I didn't tell ya... and I I probably should have.

Just talk to Doyle again.

He had a long history with Gorman and his wife.

He might know something.

Doyle's a creep who exploits
young women. He's no use to us.

Look, Jack.

I'm sincerely sorry for your loss. Stay home.

Take the time you need to recover.

You blinded Ronan.

And all this time, you let me believe it was some swan?

You didn't even trust me?

When I trust people, shit tends to happen.

Who's there? Let me out! I'm suffocating.

I was down to five of these a day.

Give you one guess how that's going.

Taylor? You filthy prick. You ruined my life.

I get that a lot.

So, I see your stash there.

What else did you not tell the cops, ha?

Easy tiger. My guess now?

The dead girls, Sarah and Karen.

You introduced them to the joys of chasing the dragon.

I'm losing my job. My tenure.

What more do you want?

They must have thought you were
some sophisticated literary outlaw.

Lord Fucking Byron. So...

the smack?

Okay! Okay! Yes!

I introduced them to heroin!

They were both keen!

Ah fuck it. Go ahead. Smoke up.

I want you to be comfortable.

I'm sick of beating info out of people.

Anyways...

I'm not here to talk about you.

I want to talk about Professor Gorman.

What about him?

You might want that hit.

Gorman murdered the girls.

You're crazy.

He's taking the credit.

With me at least.

Oh, that bastard.

He must have planted Karen's hoodie in my office.

And he hired you to investigate?

That's fucking grotesque.

My life right now. It fits.

Gorman is pulling all the strings.

He's got the cops ready to section me.

Their prime suspect is this kid that I half-blinded.

I buried my mother a couple of days ago.

Sorry for your troubles.

Thanks. Then, my only loyal
friend, I slept with his mother.

And I'm kind of in love with a cop
who thinks I'm a violent psycho.

Kate Noonan? The hard ass?

Is she wrong about the violent psycho thing?

Well. You have your health.

You've known Gorman a long time. You shagged his wife.

So did I. Whatever.

Now I figure he didn't just up and
start murdering girls overnight.

Looking back over the time you've known him.

Is there anything you can think of, any incidents.

Anything off colour.

It was after Isolde died.

Maybe a few months. He was drunk.

He cornered me in the college bar and said he forgave me.

It was the first I knew that he was aware of anything.

Our affair.

He likes an ambush.

He said it wasn't my fault.

He said Isolde was like Deirdre in the play.

A beauty who spreads sorrow amongst men.

And he said there were other women like that

and there was only one way to end the sorrows.

Would you be willing to tell the guards that much?

It could be a start.

Sure.

I'm fucked anyway... and that bastard tried to frame me.

Jack Taylor was one of the names that

Isolde purred in my ear so many times.

When I could absolutely take no more,

I released her with her prescribed morphine.

As she departed the theatre of life, I had a revelation.

Isolde had taken the sorrows with her.

And I was free.

Young Sarah, beautiful, headstrong, sorrows in her wake.

I learned about her addiction.

She was an adequate first rehearsal.

But as an artist, I remained inarticulate.

We can get you help. You don't need to do this.

Shut up! You're here to listen.

And when the time comes, to perform as directed.

Karen was my dress rehearsal.

I was pleased with the effect.

But I came to realise that my role was offstage.

I was the dramatist.

Now... Good girl.

How many more people do I have to identify?

What sort of deal are you offering?

You keep pouring.

I'll say when. We'll see.

Let's look at the college faculty.

Him. He's a regular.

Enough for himself. He doesn't supply.

I don't think.

Doyle? I'm not finished with you.

Yeah? Griffin.

This is your cue to join Kate Noonan in

tonight's performance of Deirdre of the Sorrows.

Alert no one that we are speaking.

And come directly to my home.

Alone. Is that clear?

If you touch her, I'll kill you.

Oh! That's in the spirit of the piece.

Now, Kate has something to tell you.

We've lived too long, Naisi.

Kate. I'm coming for you.

Come on.

And isn't it a poor thing we should miss

the safety of the grave and we trampling its edge?

Kate, now listen.

Luke! Don't come! It's a trap!

The part of a lifetime awaits! Tell no-one.

Fuck.

Detective Seargant...

Not now.

It's important.

The dealer says he's identified another purchaser.

Not now.

He says he bought enough to supply.

But sir...

I'll deal with it.

Kate Noonan.

Where's Kate Noonan?

I've got someone who'll give a statement on Gorman.

The lecturer, Lawrence Doyle.

Gorman spoke to him after his wife died.

Doyle's a heroin addict and a prime suspect.

Where's Kate?

You're going in a holding cell.

If you don't know where she is, it could mean he has her.

Put him in a cell.

Taylor! Get back here!

Hold up!

Come back!

The final act begins.

And Kate awaits the arrival of her king.

Let me speak to her.

Come alone, Jack.

Let's not have an overcrowded stage.

Straight to the cellar.

Come on...

Blinded me. You fucker.

The Professor said the meds were
messing with how I saw things Jack.

He said you owe me. He said, you had to pay.

Turn yourself in, Ronan. You promise me.

I will..

- Promise me.
- I will!

Cody? It's Jack.

You were gifted with beauty, Kate.

And you used it only to spread sorrows and heartbreak.

You mocked the pure hearts of the men who loved you.

And that is why...

You must die.

Come on... COME ON!

I have used all my wife's prescribed morphine.

I'm afraid I only have the crude materials
of the street for your release, my dear.

We are performing a new narrative.

You will choose who dies.

What?

Will it be the young warrior Luke Griffin

or the old king Jack Taylor?

You'll have to kill me first.

No, no, no.

You don't need to say anything.

I'll know it from your lovely eyes.

Who lives? Luke?

Or Jack?

And I believe you've made your choice.

No! No! I didn't choose!

He's here!

Sshhh.. You're all right.

Behind you!

You bastard! You bastard!

Don't do this. Please, stop.

Be still. Struggling will cause complications.

Kate? Are you okay?

Your majesty.

Take the throne.

Take the throne!

Perfection.

She chose you, Jack.

In the end, she chose her king.

And she will die in your arms.

Thank you!

Thank you! ...Finally!

Kate? Stay with me.

Stay with me.

Oh, stop it, Jack. It's over.

I'll stop when you shoot me.

Let her take your sorrows with her, Jack.

Let your hand brush eternity.

And now...

Exit the Dramatist.

If she dies. So help me, if she dies.

Kate? Kate you're alright, that's it... look at me.

Look at me.

Keep breathing, keep breathing love. That's it.

You're okay.

There's a DVD in the computer.

It's relevant.

Gorman had it so wrong.

The sorrows aren't spread by headstrong

beautiful women like Deirdre or Isolde

or Sarah or Karen or Kate.

The sorrows are spread by bastards like him.

By bastards like me.