All language subtitles for Blitz (2011)

Hello, lads.

Fuck off, old man...

Yeah, you old git.

... or I'll smash your head in.

Yeah, give us your
fucking wallet, you cunt.

This lads...

is a hurley, used in the
Irish game of hurling...

a cross between
hockey and murder.

You fuck-

Why don't I carve my
name in your fucking face!

Hold on, hold on.

Fucking kill him!

Is that
a carpet knife?

Jesus wept. I've been looking
for one of these for weeks...

but this carpet
just keeps turning up.

A word of advice, girls.

If you're picking
the wrong fight...

at least pick
the right weapon.

Now, Sergeant, I'd like
you to tell me once again...

about your violent urges.

Uh, I must insist
that you extinguish that.

And you'll do what, exactly,
if I don't? Arrest me?

I'm not sure you realize
the gravity of your situation.

Nice pen.

Sergeant?

Nice pen, I said.

Says a lot about you.

Oh, is that so?
Pray tell.

You like a solid phallic
symbol between your fingers.

Sergeant Brant,
in the last year...

you've been charged with bugging
the Superintendent's office...

beating a felon unconscious
in a billiards hall...

and just last week you assaulted
three innocent youths...

with a hockey stick.
Shall I go on?

My report will be a major factor
in whether you remain in the force.

Ser- Sergeant Brant,
sit down.

The thing is, Doc...

this is the only work l
can do, and if I get bounced...

I'm sure I'll do
something truly reckless.

Hi.

You got a
minute for me?

Yeah. What is it?

I don't know.

I thought two years undercover on the
Drug Squad would help me out, but...

I don't know.

I thought maybe my past
went against me or...

I failed the
Sergeant’s exam.

Everyone fails
the first time.

Did you?

Now you've only been out of
rehab a few months. Give it time.

Falls, go grab some piss
poor tea in the canteen, okay?

You don't wanna believe what
you read in the papers, sir.

It's not what this station needs right now.

You know we can't afford
any more bad publicity.

Imagine you walk
down the street...

and you bump into three blokes
carrying carpeting knives.

Nah, they're not carpet fitters.
They're after your wallet.

Maybe even that gold watch...

that you got for the highest
arrest rate in the Southeast.

One of the rats there even very kindly
offered to carve their name in your face.

Now, would you be more worried about
whether you're gonna have a fight...

than how it looks in the papers?

Well, just keep a low profile until
this little shit storm blows over.

Business is brisk.

Have that, Daniel.

I don't think I can
go through with this.

You'll be okay. It'll be over in no time.

You think I should've
gone for a burial?

No.

You'll be glad.

We're ready for you,
Inspector Roberts.

Go on.

Who got
the flowers?

Owner of a stall in
Streatham owed me a favor.

Does a clean line
in fruit and veg.

It's time.

Got some last words, Gov?

We'll miss you, love.

Coats and Hammond,
as quick as you can.

Let's get you legless.

Where's Fiona?

What?

The urn, Brant.

Where the fuck's the urn?

Someone must've
nicked that.

One of these guys.

Up, up and away.

We need a detective.

All right.

Fuck you, pig.

Brant, are you there?

Brant!

What?

We need you down at
Smithfield yesterday, Brant.

An officer is down.
All hands to the pump...

and don 't go talking
to any fucking journalists.

Sir?

I'm throwing you
a bone, Brant!

The officer
is Sandra Bates-

O h, no. It can't be.

The assailant
is armed and dangerous-

That is some dress.

Yeah, well you
look shitty.

I've been consoling the
Inspector. His wife passed.

Yeah. I heard.

I knew Sandra. We were at
Police College together.

Brant.

Was there something?

Sir? There's a witness.

What? Why
wasn't I told?

I've been trying to tell you
for the past half an hour.

Take his statement.

The dead policewoman
has been identified as...

as 26-year-old
Sandra Bates of Camberwell.

Described as a credit
to her force...

she was shot
at point blank range...

and died instantly.

And now from our
Washington correspondent-

It's Tony, right?

Anthony.
You're Brant, right?

You know me?

Who doesn’t? Last year
at Camberwell billiards...

when that nutter come in with a
crowbar, attacked a couple of mates?

You rocked up,
beat matey to a pulp.

That makes me think
you're a legend.

I'm flattered.
They got names?

That's Posh.
That's Becks.

Posh and fucking Becks?

You're fucking right.

So run the description
by me again.

Ain't you gonna
take any notes?

Do I look
like I carry a pencil?

Morning. I'm
Porter Nash.

Superintendent Brown said to talk
to you about getting a locker.

Due to the recent
death of his wife...

Chief Inspector Roberts
is on extended leave.

I'm therefore promoting
Sergeant Porter Nash...

to Acting Inspector...

and temporary head
of the inquiry.

Sir?

Yes?

Shouldn't we promote
one of our own?

Now, now gents. I don
't need to remind you...

that we're already
the focus of a media circus.

Sergeant Nash comes to us from the
prestigious West London branch...

and it is my opinion that he will
instill a level of professionalism...

hitherto lacking in our
primitive Southeast Division.

I'm coming in.

You look like shit.

Take that hood
off your head.

I'm in trouble.

You got any beers or anything?

You know I haven't.

Sit down.

Talk.

Well, me, Macky and Bowes were

What? Looking for a madness?

I think we killed someone.

Some camel jockey.

Sorry, I mean
an Indian guy.

He weren't moving.

Okay.

Okay, I'll look into it.

Thank you-

Shut up.
I ain't finished yet.

If he's dead,
you're on your own.

Yeah? In fact, I’ll come round
your yard and nick you myself.

Now you go home and you
wait till you hear from me.

It's choice time, John.
If he lives...

you either quit that gang or you quit
coming round here, you understand?

Yeah.

Yeah, what?

Yes, ma'am.

Brant, can l
have a word?

I just need to
have a quick chat.

So what can l
do for you?

I need a favor.

A friend of mine is in trouble.
I need to get him off the hook.

Someone you're riding?

What?
No, nothing like that.

He's a kid.

There's a DI. I used to
know him from way back.

We shared a snitch in Brixton.
He'll be able to help.

Name?

Stokes. Craig Stokes.

Thank you.

Now you owe me one.

Harold Dunlop.

I read your stuff
in the papers.

I've got some information
on the police killings.

All rig ht.
Hang on.

All right. Fire away.

Aw, have some
fucking manners.

I'm offering you information.
You don't even say hello.

It's a pleasure to make your
acquaintance. Is that better?

I detest sarcasm.

Maybe I'll start on journalists
when I've finished my cop quota.

Oh, uh, heh...

Listen fellow.

You and me got off to
the wrong start, didn't we?

So let's try again now.

What's your name?

Oh, Christ. I'm not sure
you're even up to the task.

What task?

Reporting from inside
the police killings?

Where are you on the food
chain? You got any clout?

Well, I'm a staff writer
in the crime department, yeah.

I can make you famous.

Yo there, copper!
Remember me?

Do you want something?

Thing.

What?

It's 'something'
not somethink. '

You should at least
be able to speak properly.

Look, get lost mate, yeah?

I've got a question, yeah?
What would you do...

if I was
to call you a cunt?

Which do you prefer?
Seven or eight?

Eight.

Eight it is.

Hang on. What?
Eight what?

Eight more coppers
to kill. Bye.

What-

Cup of tea
and a biscuit.

Are you as black
as you're painted?

Are you as Nancy
as they say?

Thing is, Brant, if there's a problem,
I'm gonna need to know about it.

There's a problem, all right.

Some sick fuck
is killing policemen...

and he's only just started.

I meant between us.

I know what you meant.

Problem? Not unless you
follow me into public toilets.

So I don't get to be
head boy. Big fucking deal.

Less paperwork for me.

There's nothing, sir.

See if you can get me a
possible match of the bullet.

Yes, sir.

Just keep it open
for me, for now.

Move your right and take your
fucking left hand up and over.

Aw, fuck me.
Not you again, mate.

I'll keep coming back
until you get me a knife.

Keep your right hand up. I keep telling ya.

You're getting caught with your left up.

No, that's not him.

Yeah, please.
That's quite important.

Want me to widen
the area for questioning?

Great, yeah.
Great idea.

The gun was a
9mm semi-automatic.

A SIG or a Glock?

I'll go on
to forensics now.

No?

I don't fucking know.

I don't know!

I wanna know
the name

of every punk
that you sold

a 9 mil semi-automatic pistol
to in the last few months.

He's got his back
turned every time.

He knows where
the cameras are.

Don't make me
come back

and give me
the same

fucking silly
answers, all right?

I'll ring you when I've got something.

I want the name, address
and fucking postal code.

Sarge, come have
a look at this?

We've got no footage of the
killing of the second officer.

There must be more.
Keep looking.

Sir.

You know what I want...

so spill.

Well, I need paying first.

What do you have in mind?

Serious.

Serious money.

Serious money?

Mmm-hmm.

What, like a retirement benefit?

Yeah.

Bony fucker, aren't ya?

You don't have the brains
of a chicken, do you?

I doubt you have any real
Irish blood in you, Radnor.

Me, I'm a wild streak and a
Celt. Makes me unpredictable.

Them Irish. Did you know
they invented kneecap?

It's a nasty business.

They fix you up
as best they can...

but you'll always have a
limp. How does that sound?

Radnor the gimp. How does that go
down in your retirement package?

A brandy here, Paul.
And a large scotch.

Here's what we'll do.

We'll have a nice stiff drink.
Ought to fire us off.

Well, go on, Rad.
Pay the man.

Well, l- I don't
drink brandy.

Yeah, keep
the change.

Okay, tell me.

There's this bloke
at the Peacock Gym.

He set fire
to a police dog.

YouTubed it. Somebody asked
him why he did it. He said...

"Practice."

Well, that's it?

Seriously, he's a nutter.

Fuck, if we pulled in
every wanker who said that...

we'd be up to our
arse in suspects.

What's his name?

Well, I don't-
I don't- I don't know.

But I'm meeting a guy later
who's gonna get it for me.

Don't bother. I'll go to
the gym. Ask the manager.

But you see, l-
Don't I get something?

I left you the rest of my
crisps, you greedy bugger.

What more do you want?

For fuck's sake.

Are you fucking me?

Can I have
my change back, please?

Fuck, I can't walk.

Are you as black
as you're painted?

Disturbing you,
am l?

No, I was just in the middle of eating.

Go ahead.
That's your Tex Mex, isn't it?

Christ, what is that?

Hare Krishna food?

Better put some
meat in you, boy.

A big juicy steak.
Get the blood flowing.

You know,
the Japs had a word...

for this type of
bare look, didn't they?

Minimalist.

Shy is the word
I had in mind.

Can I get a drink, then?

Over there.
Help yourself.

Jesus, no wonder you
stay at home.

So what are you having?

I've got some
water, thanks.

Can I ask you
why you're here?

I need your advice.

Look, I don't give a fuck
about you being a pillow biter.

I don't give a fuck
what people do...

as long as they
keep it to themselves.

I respect you
and there's not many I do.

What's the problem?

I'm losing it.

In what way?

I'm blacking out.

Not often, but enough
to be worried.

Don't wanna talk, eat.

It's actually a huge effort
to drag myself outta bed.

I just stare at the wall.

Just do nothing, you know?

Absolutely nothing.

It's burnout.

What?

Your brain's on meltdown.

A couple of days
doing nothing...

and you’ll
start to come back.

You sound pretty sure.

Yeah, I am sure.
I've been there myself.

You?

Yeah. I could barely
work the microwave.

I was fucked.

We got this pedophile
on the loose in Holland Park.

He was luring
children into his car.

We knew who he was but we just
couldn't catch him in the act.

These kids were too
traumatized to identify him.

He was this big
showbiz agent, you know.

Major connections.

The guys back
at the nick...

they just about put me
on a par with him...

because I was
a queer, yeah?

Wanked off into condoms and
leave them in my locker...

scratched the car,
sugar in the petrol tank.

All the usual shit.

It put me
under tremendous pressure.

I was knocking back
Valium, shots at breakfast...

two packs a day.

So I thought, fuck it.

I thought I'd take matters
into my own hands.

And I broke into the pedophile's
house at 4:00 in the morning...

and I smashed his bollocks
in with a baseball bat...

until they fucking popped.

I took a leave
of absence after that.

I was burnt out.

Came back here,
I shut the curtains.

Pulled the phone out.
Just hid away.

I went back to work
expecting the axe...

but they ended up
transferring me.

Wanker.

Morning.
Want some breakfast?

A coffee,
two sugars.

You had an affair
with me?

I held back.

So any idea who
we're looking for?

A psycho.
Whistles while he works.

Showed up
at Peacock Gym yesterday.

I got the name
of a bloke in Nunhead.

Worth a visit?

You want me along?

Sure. See you there
in half an hour.

Oh, yeah. The other thing, about
you being a good cop. I meant that.

Thank you.

For a poofter.

You replaced me.

You're on compassionate leave.

I 'm back.

Inspector Roberts,
losing a wife is not easy.

You lost your wife?

Well, no-

How would you feel
about early retirement?

We'd miss you, sir.

You know who
else would miss you?

Olga, the 250-pound call
girl you see every Wednesday.

Your wife thinks
you're playing squash.

Well, you are, in a way.

I don't need a fanfare.
I don't need an office.

I just wanna work.

Well, what are
you waiting for?

Fuck off, Roberts.

Go solve some crimes.

Fuck.

Police! Open up!

Oh!

Barry Weiss?

That is me.

Can we come in?

Got a warrant?

It's in the post.

Can I get you anything?

How about a cuppa, coppers?

I know you.

If we'd met,
I'm sure I'd remember.

You know what that is?

Michael Jackson's shit.

It's priceless.

I got it off eBay.

So what was it you were looking
for? Maybe I could help you.

What do you do, Mr. Weiss?

I'm between jobs.

You like torching
dogs, do ya?

I saw your
home movie.

On YouTube, right?

It got over 9,000 hits
before they took it down.

I post
- I posted it, yeah, but I wasn't involved.

Nah, I'm joking.
I love animals, me.

What about police, Barry?
You like them?

"Thank God," I say.

I say "Thank God
for the men in blue."

I remember you now, Barry.

Yeah, you're the piece of
shit from the billiards hall.

Back on your feet,
I see.

Come on, Nash.
Let's get out of here.

What was
all that about?

I had a run in with
him about a year ago.

I might have put
him in the hospital.

Welcome to the liberal
Southeast.

It gets results.

Let's just keep
an eye on him.

You just wait and see.

Yeah?

You wait and see.

What are you fucking
looking at, you fucking perv?

Fuck. Ow!

Weiss. Nice.

B. Weiss, P-23...

Weymouth Parking.
You little bastard.

Who is it?

Satellite TV.

I've come for your box.

What's the problem?
I just paid the bill.

That's funny...

because you
are the bill.

You're not
the usual bloke-

Ugh.

Question two. Which Scottish
music hall comedian-

B! B! B.

A. Jack Milroy

B. Andy Stewart
or C. Sir Harry Lauder?

B.

Come on, you fucking idiot, B.

Yes.

Sweet.

There 's a fire
at Cerinem Point.

In a flat on the 16th floor,
you'll find cop number three.

Oh, I used a new system.

A new system?

Can you be
a bit clearer?

I pulverized
the fucker with a hammer.

Is that clear
enough for you?

I pulverized
the fucker with a hammer.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, shit.

Yeah, I forgot.
I got a name.

A name?

Is there an echo? Stop
repeating everything I say.

It's getting
on my fucking tits.

I'm sorry.

It's "Blitz"
as in "Blitzkrieg."

You got that?

Yeah. That's good. Yeah.

Oh, fuck.

Sarge, you need
to see this.

It's the evening edition.

Bastards!

Where the hell
have you been?

Can't say.

What do you mean
you can't say?

Can't account
for my movements?

Is that
the correct lingo?

You do know another
policeman’s been killed?

Chief Inspector Roberts.

What?

The killer's targets
are in this station.

He used a hammer to kill
Roberts and he torched his flat.

He contacted some hack
journalist at The Post...

called Dunlop. Gave him all the details.

Dunlop you say?

Yeah. Harold Dunlop.
I sent a team over there...

to tap his phone and make
sure his calls are traced.

Do you know him?

I do.

I'm Harold Dunlop
from The Post.

Hey! Get off!

All right! All right!
Bloody hell!

What was
all that about?

I told you,
I know him.

Bastard put my
picture in the paper.

Click.

Hello. Hello. Hello.

Bang. Bang.

Yippity-doo-dah-day.

Hello? Dunlop.

Is this Harold Dunlop?

Yeah. Yeah.

The Harold Dunlop?
The crime reporter?

Can you get me a lattè?

Yeah. Who's this?

Mr. Dunlop, how would
you like to nail The Blitz?

Yeah, I 'd like
that very much.

Oh-ho! Is that it? Perhaps I didn't
make myself clear, Mr. Dunlop.

I know the name
of the cop killer.

I think you're gonna have to work
a little bit harder than that.

It'll be an honor to bring
that maniac to justice.

Yeah. Yeah.

Well, you'll have
a little think...

about how much
you'd be willing to pay.

Come now, Mr. Dunlop.

You didn't think this was a
citizen doing his bit now, did you?

How much do you want?

50k. In cash.

For that, you get
the name of The Blitz...

plus extras.

Extras?
What do you mean extras?

Various assorted
items, Mr. Dunlop.

You'll find out
when I get my 50k.

I'm the master
of the fucking universe.

Hello.

Hey.

The fire pretty much destroyed
anything around the body.

We found that in the bathroom.
The fire wasn't so bad in there.

But did the heat or water
damage any DNA or fingerprints?

I'm afraid so.

Peacock Gym.

Yeah, looks like it.

It's Brant. Check if DI Roberts
was ever a member of the Peacock Gym.

What are you doing?

I told you to wait until you heard from me.

Yeah, well,
I didn't hear from you.

Yeah.
Well, I'm sorting it.

Yeah? I'm trying to.

Look, just go home.

DI Stokes?

You must be Falls.

Yeah. Yeah.

What'll you have?

Tea, please, sir.
Just tea.

Forget the "sir" stuff.
Craig'll do.

Tea and toast
for two!

Coming up, love!

Okay. Well, we've got
two of the kids...

involved in the assault
of Mr. Azziz.

I thought- He's not-?

Dead? Incredibly, no.

Let me see.

John Wells,
known as Metal.

This the one
you wanted to discuss?

Yes.

What is he? A snitch?

Yeah, well, you know...

and I try to look out
for him.

Thank you.

He's a piece of shit.

A thug.

Oh, he's a boy.

Underneath all that,
he's just a scared boy.

So is there
anything you can do?

Anything can be buried.

Will you?

Meet me for a drink tonight.

That's all?

Hey, Roberts and the
Peacock Gym. Never a member.

No, of course not.

Have you got a minute?

Yeah.

Can you work that thing?

Brant, you're
such a dinosaur.

I'm surprised you can even
work your own microwave.

This is women's work. Just like typing.

Right.

So what are
you looking for?

Barry Weiss.
It's the Belfront Towers.

Kicked out of Peacock Gym.

Oh, wow. This guy's
always in trouble.

He's been arrested more times
than you've had WPC's.

You know I'm
not like that.

Right.

It's petty stuff, though.
What do you think?

No, nothing major.

None of that yet.

Have you got my money?

Yeah. I just had to
pull a few strings.

Pick me up outside
Weymouth Street car park.

Stand there.

All right.

There. Steady. There.

Oh, Jesus.

Click.

These are the extras
I was talking about.

Trophies, I believe
is the correct term.

And you know
who these belong to, eh?

Correct.

Right, I showed
you mine.

Perhaps we could have a
little look at yours now.

All right.

Aw.

What?

That's not
fifty grand.

Of course
it's fifty grand.

There's no way
that's fifty grand.

When did you
last see fifty grand?

Don't you trust me?
Go and count it.

It's about
500 quid.

Oh. Go on, then.

I'm gonna count
every bit of it.

Good. Buy yourself
a new suit.

Fifty, fifty,
fifty, fifty, fifty.

You are a fucking genius.

I haven't told him
your name yet.

Relax. I'm not
gonna hurt you.

I only do police. Remember?

How'd you get on to me?

I got your address
from the Peacock Gym...

and I went
through your rubbish.

I found the receipt
for the parking garage.

That's very impressive.

I haven't told him
your name yet.

I haven't
told him your name.

But you're gonna have to help me out, see?

Ah.

I haven't told him
your name yet.

This is a bit
of a tight squeeze.

I haven't told him
your name yet.

No, no, no.

A double Irish.

Can't do, buddy.
I'm closed.

Listen up. I'm only gonna say
this once. I ain't your 'buddy.'

When I ask for a drink, you
say, "Ice with that, sir?"

Now let's begin again.
A double Irish.

You want ice
with that, sir?

Don't be ridiculous.
Who needs ice?

That’ll be five quid, sir.

Like you said...

you're closed.

He went to the toilet.
When he hadn't come back...

I got concerned.
I thought he fell in.

He did.

Then what happened?

Well, I went in there,
didn't l? I found him.

Well, you didn't exactly come rushing
out though, did you, Mr. Dunlop?

The man at the bar says you
was with him for ten minutes.

Had you down as a couple
of George Michael fans.

Hey, I was looking
for the money.

Money?

The paper's money.

We were paying him
for an exclusive.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Can I remind you
that people...

are being killed
here, Mr. Dunlop?

Ah, yeah?

Yeah. Human beings,
with families and children.

There's a car. Yeah.
Oh, God, I forgot.

Yeah. A car. You're not
gonna believe what's inside.

Where is this car?

Weymouth Street car park.
It's a black Jaguar.

Bay 23!

Oy! Am I gonna get
police protection?

Oh, yeah.

We'll be all over you.

Should've been the
other guy had him killed.

What now?

Murder inquiry. I want the
disc for the last month.

Discs are full.

What do you mean
they’re full?

They haven't recorded
anything for six weeks.

It ran out of memory.
They'll fix it Monday.

I don't believe this.

The cameras are really
turned on. It's psychological.

You don't give
a shit, do ya?

It's disgraceful.

So is you eating it.

Hey.

You look nice.

Thanks.

Can I take
your coat?

Yeah.

Thank you.

Have a seat.

You've gone quiet.

I like
listening to you.

Everything all right?

There's got to be
an easier way to do this.

Fuck, Brant.

So how does it feel to
actually need us girls...

for more than just cooking
and cleaning and shagging?

I was sorting a way of listing
all Weiss' arresting officers.

I've seemed to pull up the
first one. It's WPC Sandra Bates.

You're kidding.

I've had
a really nice time.

Yeah.

I'll call you.

When?

When are you
gonna call me?

Tomorrow.

I'll tell you what.
How about this summer...

we'll do a picnic?

Don't you think
I know how this goes?

Man says,
"I'll call you"...

and a woman's waiting
and hoping.

She's a slave
to her mobile...

while he's thinking,
"Well, I'll call her...

tomorrow, some day, Monday. Doesn't
matter. Well, here's a hint, yeah?

It matters.
It matters a lot.

Tomorrow. I'll
call you tomorrow.

No, fuck off.

Hey!

Jesus. Look who else.

Fuck. That's Roberts.

And Falls.

Shit. How could l
be that stupid?

Send an armed response unit
round to her flat straight away.

It's a 19.

Come on, Falls.
We're coming.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

I'm stupid.
I'm stupid.

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

Not-

Doctors have given her a sedative.
She should be out for a while.

Did she get a look
at the attacker?

All she could say for sure
is that he's big and white.

Big and white.

So it's not the black kid
from Different Strokes.

It's Barry Weiss.
I know him.

Should you be
taking her booze?

Well, she
won't notice.

Want one?

Yeah.

Is she all right?

Who are you?

DI Craig Stokes.

I heard someone
got killed.

It's not Falls.

Cop killer
took a run at her.

Some kid jumped in,
a hoodie.

He got his ticket punched.

Were you
with Falls this evening?

Yes. We went for a drink
and I dropped her off.

You dropped her
in it, you mean.

Did it not occur to you
to walk her to the door?

What a gent.

Taxi!

Can you take me
to Bayswater?

It's gonna
cost you, mate.

Hey, Bronski Beat.

Do I look like
the kind of cunt...

who thinks Bayswater is
just around the corner?

Hey, stop here.
Stop here, mate.

There. Dean Court.

All right.

Yeah, all right.

There you go.
Keep it.

1,000 pounds.

And question two. We wanted to
know the post code for BIair Castle.

Don't know how many of you
ever visited Blair Castle.

Is he dead?

What, the little skinhead?

As a doornail.

What's the story
with you and him?

Him risking
his life for ya.

Oh, I've known him
since he was twelve.

He used to live
next door.

When I came out of rehab, he was the
only one around here I wanted to know.

He made me tea.

I don't know.
I thought...

I could help him.

Oh, my God.

Brant.

He definitely
did a bunk.

Find anything?

Nothing incriminating, no.

Used to be a good looking
boy. He let himself go a bit.

Let's go public
with Weiss.

Your call.

At least we'll flush
the fucker out.

Police today released
a picture of the suspect...

they would like to question
regarding The Blitz.

Yeah! I know him!

I dropped the guy off.
He was fucking psycho.

Long time, no see.

Hey.

Jack, this is
Detective Brant.

Hello, mate.

Where's our boy?

Room 7.

Go, go, go.

Fuck!

He's on the move.

Let's go.

Ugh.

We have them on the Great
Western Road.

Head down to Harrow Road. We'll
put him off at the fucking underpass.

Now running west
on the Westway.

Heading towards Paddington.

Suspect entering
train depot...

north of Paddington.
Brant still in pursuit.

All units
head for train depot...

north of Paddington.

Do not let Brant engage.
Repeat. Do not let Brant engage.

What the fuck-

Leave it, Brant.

Brant, calm down.
We've got him.

Get the fuck-

Fuck!

Get this piece
of shit out of here.

Just calm down.
Calm down.

Move! Now!

We've got him.

We've got him, okay? We've got him.

The Metropolitan Police
have just confirmed...

the arrest of Barry Weiss, the prime
suspect in The Blitz killings...

in which three London Police officers
were murdered in cold blood...

after a dramatic chase
through West London-

A t the Paddington
train depot.

Police are refusing
to comment any further-

Just selling
records, yeah?

We're going to record this. Okay, Barry?

I want a lawyer
and a sandwich.

Oh, and I want to update
my Facebook status.

You have exactly
forty-eight hours.

In that time, you either
charge my client or release him.

And he'd like a different sandwich.
He says the bread is stale.

Weiss might be crazy
but he's not stupid.

He's covered
his tracks.

The fire at Roberts' flat
destroyed any forensic evidence...

we might have had. Even the
Peacock Gym link is tenuous.

Well, he's admitted
the Jag belongs to him.

It's been sitting in a car
park for at least six months.

Anyone could've had access
to it. There's no CCTV.

I got ahold of the guy with the dogs,
the one that saw the first murder.

Now he's saying he can't
make a positive I D.

All right, de 's too scared. Same
goes for the barman at the Wellesley.

You didn't find
anything at the hotel?

Nothing.

What about Forensics?

Team stripped
it down, but no.

With what we've got, he'll be out
tomorrow laughing his head off.

We need something solid.

We'd better come up
with something quick.

Otherwise, the killer is gonna
hop, skip and jump out of here.

The only thing he's getting
so far is a caution.

All right, Babe?

Yeah. Yeah, no. I've been
away, but...

I'm back now.

Do you want to come
to my party?

Yeah, like old times.

Can you take care
of me?

Sweet.

What's this?

Moonshine.
Irish moonshine.

Isn't this
stuff illegal?

I fucking hope so.

You drink this poison and then
you wonder why you get blackouts.

I drink this poison
because I get blackouts.

Sláinte.

Cheers.

Say we can't prove anything.
Say Barry Weiss walks.

Where are you
going with this?

Well, you told me once
before about some pedophile.

You couldn't get the bastard
through the regular channels, so...

you took him out yourself.

I thought you were asleep
when I told you that.

I'm not gonna continue
this line of talk.

I don't like
where it's going.

Been a busy couple
of days for you, Barry.

Took a ride in a police car.
Got your picture in the paper.

Highlight of your career.

You know, Barry,
if you were smart...

which I know you're not...

you'd admit to what you did...

because I'm gonna tell you now, you'll
be a lot safer in here than out there.

Were they
friends of yours...

those cops
that got killed?

You see...

I know what this
is about, Barry.

What did those lads
ever do to you, Barry?

Of course, you knew.
How did you react?

Fuck you, pig.

They call that
resisting arrest.

I call it stupid.

I know I embarrassed you.

Since then you've stewed...

and cooked
and simmered over it.

You should've just let it go.

Personally...

I didn't even remember it until I saw you.
Didn't give it a second thought.

It was so insignificant,
I forgot all about it.

Well sure I laughed when I played
the surveillance tapes at the station.

We all did.
But that stuff's silly.

Sergeant Brant
to you.

The point is, Barry...

you're nothing.

No one cares.

No one gives a fuck.

Oh, and another thing.

You, The Blitz.

What the fuck is that?

Don't mean to bomb
you out, bro...

but there's some major
shit going down.

I'm listening.

A cop's ripped off
a dealer.

What?

They're getting
into the products, man.

This dealer is like
serious folks.

You fuck with him and he gets
difficult, even with a woman.

Whoa. Whoa.
Back up a second.

A female cop is ripping off drug dealers?

She a sister, too.

This cop
have a name?

Yeah. Falls.

Brant. It's Stokes.
Listen, I need your help.

I think she's inside.

You crashed
a party, man.

"You crashed a party?" You fucking
- Get him out!

Come here.

Do you like me?
If you like me-

Look at this shit.

If you like me,
you can throw me a party.

What are you doing?
I don't wanna go!

Go back.
He's gonna kill me!

He's gonna kill me!
No! He's gonna kill me!

No!

He's gonna kill me!

What are these?

Tranqs. They’ll
bring you down.

The shower did that.

Just take 'em, Falls.

I'm messed up,
aren't l?

Even when I was
working undercover...

I was a cop
pretending to be a junkie.

But really, I'm just a junkie
playing at being a cop.

He's gonna get away
with it, isn't he?

If we can't protect our own,
what good are we, Brant?

What good are we?

A lot
of press waiting?

Yes, I'm afraid so. There's quiet
a crowd gathered outside the front.

But we can leave through a
different exit, if you prefer.

Fuck no!

I hope it's all there.

Is something
on your mind, Barry?

Well, I guess I'll
see you another day.

I can't wait.

Don't worry. We're having
him tailed around the clock.

Keep him
out of trouble.

We're in position now.
He's going into his flat.

Is Brant still here?

No. No, he left.

It's Roberts' funeral
this afternoon.

Every cop in the Southeast
is gonna be there.

Except you.

In company with Christ
who died and now lives...

may the rejoicing
in Your Kingdom...

where all our tears
are wiped away...

unite us together again
in one family...

to sing Your praise
forever and ever.

Amen.

Eternal rest grant
unto him, Oh, Lord...

and let perpetual light
shine upon him.

into Your hand,
Father of Mercy...

we commend our brother
in sure and certain hope...

that together, all who
have died in Christ...

will live with Him one day.

In nomine Patris, Filii
et Spiritu Sancti. Amen.

Beloved Bruce Roberts, we
give your body to the earth.

Earth Mother,
Root Mother...

Father of soil.

We give You this body
of our beloved Bruce Roberts.

His eyes will never
greet us again.

Return to earth.

We will not kiss these lops.

Return to earth.

What he has been is gone.

What he is now
has passed the gate...

leaving his body
to become soil.

This flesh
to nurture flowers...

these bones
to be roots of trees.

Come on.

Yeah, what's the latest?

Weiss hasn't left
his flat all day.

Fuck.

Brant! Turn around,
you fucker!

I wanna see your face
as your head explodes.

Ugh. Agh.

What? You think
you fooled me?

No chance. I was
just playing along.

Ugh!

Ugh!

Come on, Barry.

What are you
gonna do?

Huh? Call
the cops?

You stupid fucking pig.

Wait till the papers
get a load of this, hey.

I'm gonna sue you.

And you.

And all of you
fucking pig cunts.

I'm gonna make
fucking millions.

You fucking-

Brant?

You fuck.

You can't kill me.

I'm The Blitz.

Are you talking
about that cop killer?

That can't be you, Barry.

We tried to convict you
but you were innocent.

The only thing we do know is he
was partial to people in uniform...

just like the one
you're wearing.

And he used a weapon
just like this one.

Fucking lucky he didn't
shoot me in the head.

Something tells me this
one's gonna remain unsolved.

You're not supposed
to smoke in here.

What you gonna do?

Shoot me?

I'm just leaving
the office now, darling.

Yeah, I'll be back at 7:00.
I love you too, Amanda. Yeah.

There he is.
There's Brecky.

Fuck.

Bon appétit.

Get out! Get away!