All language subtitles for Borderline.2024.S01E06.Hurling.Part.Two.1080p.ITV.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-HiNGS_track3_[eng]

MAN: Male, mid 20s.

Head smashed in, blood everywhere.

Was Conor dyslexic?

No, not dyslexic.

Mirror writing. In love.

LOTTIE: We have a hotel
full of dentists to entertain.

And, God knows, they need some fun
in their lives.

You need to shut your mouth when
the police ask about Conor Byrne.

REGAN:
Murder weapon is a hurley stick.

Great! So now
the whole town's a suspect.

BRADY: This is from a camera
at the rear of the bar.

Finn Walsh appears.
BOYD: What are they arguing about?

That's Finn walking home.

Except he doesn't live that way.

That's the way
to the sports complex.

So, you were jealous?

Maybe. But not enough to kill him.

You sure about that?

YOUNG BOYD PANTING,
GUNSHOT

SCREAMING

GORMAN: I'm sorry for your loss.

But I swear to God,
I didn't kill your father.

'He swore it wasn't him.'

And you believe him?
Aye.

The stolen car used when your father
was murdered was found burnt out.

Our forensics team
found no prints, right?

Right.
Wrong.

These prints,
do they belong to Patrick Gorman?

Yes.
The lying bastard!

If I help you,

you've to do as I say, whether
we're north or south of the border.

Whatever it takes.

Shit.

Bang, bang.

You're dead.
Fuck you, Fitz.

DISTANT SIREN WAILING

All it took was fake number plates

and a lock on your front door
that a blind baby could pick.

Are you trying
to get yourself killed?

I've a lot on my mind.

Clearly, staying alive
isn't one of them.

And that wig won't save you either.
Though, it suits you.

It's a pity you're a lezzie
from Leinster.

Again, fuck you.

Seriously, our friend
has only been out a few weeks,

and we already have intel
that the family are looking for you.

So what?
So we need to move you.

No way. I've moved twice already.

If I have to move again,
I'll tell them myself where I am

and get it over and done with.

So knew you'd say that.
So why'd you bother coming?

Cos I wanted to make fun of you
out here, in the sticks.

All right. Well, you've had
your fun. Now drink up and piss off.

Secretly, I think you like it here.

You've gone native
ever since you started working

with our wee friend,
The Preacher Man.

He's not my friend.

Did you tell him
what I found out about Gorman?

Yeah.
I trust you're not gonna help him

pursue that information
any further, Detective?

No.

Right answer.

You, er, heard from Caitlin
or she from you?

No. I changed my number.
She's no idea where I am.

Anyway, I'm the last person
she'd want to talk to.

Hm. Second right answer.
Three in a row, and you win a prize.

Are you dating anyone out here? Cos
you know that's against the rules.

No, I'm not.

HE MIMICS BUZZER

Oh, you were so close to winning
a holiday for two in the sun.

Mind you, I doubt Orla
would wanna lie on the beach

with someone who might have
their head blown off.

It's not serious.

End it.

# There's a ghost screaming
Over the river

# It's a sound
Only clear to the sinners

# So we know what to do, what to do

# Pay the Devil his due

# Pay the Devil his due. #

PHONE BUZZING

Shakir.
'Sir, I have Conor's phone record.

'I think there's a girlfriend.'
OK.

Better take notes, Constable.

Else, Detective Regan
won't be happy.

Yes, Sir. Where is she?

Not sure.

She texted asking me if I could come
because she had another appointment.

Actually, that's not true.

She said, "You do it. I'm busy."
Sounds like her.

Aye, aye.

Kelly Logan?

Cold in here.

It's, er... a bit chilly in here
for the wee babby, no?

Can't afford the heating.

You can afford a designer suitcase.

It's a fake.
Are you here to arrest me for that?

No. We're here to investigate
the murder of Conor Byrne.

According to his phone records,

he called you on Sunday,
just before the game.

He also called or texted you
every day for the last two weeks,

often several times a day.

Were you two in a relationship?

SNIFFLING: Sorry.

KELLY CRYING

SOFTLY: Sorry.
It's OK. We're here to help.

VOICE BREAKING: He was my boyfriend.

Aye. We found the note
you wrote to him.

He kept that?
Aye.

I loved him.

Is the baby his?

No.
Who's the father?

It's just some guy.
It was just a mistake.

Is this your house?
No, it's... it's my mam's.

And where is she?
She's working.

She's a cleaner.
Aye. And what do you do?

I clean, too.

Where?
In the supermarket.

I-I work nights, and then
my mam looks after the baby.

Which supermarket?

Can we do this another time?

Aye.
EXHALES

Have we met before?

No.

OK.

I haven't seen you here before.

I-I'm new here, madam. Name's Conor.

Yeah. I can read.

Mrs Healy, nice to have you back.
I'll check Mrs Healy in.

Thank you, Conor.
Yes, sir.

Busy week ahead?
The usual.

You know,
I thought meeting face-to-face

had become a thing of the past.

Well, lucky for us, it isn't.

She's been in here all afternoon...

..says she's not doing it any more.

Why don't you stick on the kettle,
make us a cuppa?

What's up, babe?

You know.

I warned you. There's no room
for love in this business.

He wasn't a client.
LOTTIE CHUCKLES

We're all clients
in one way or another.

I'm not gonna do it any more.

Just give the work
to the other girls.

KELLY GROANS
You're hurting me!

Where is the money your boyfriend
stole from my husband?

I told you, I don't have it.

KELLY BREATHES
SHAKILY

WHISPERS: There, there, there.

It's OK, sweetheart.

Look, here's what we'll do.

I have a new client for you tonight.

His name is Mr Lee.
He's totally minted.

You do this one,
and we'll call it quits. OK?

I have one of these.

You can't beat a massage
at the end of a long day.

Really?
It's true.

My friend said, "I bet that chair
will give you a better massage

"than your wanker ex-boyfriend
ever did."

Well, if it doesn't, I'll give you
your money back, Miss, er...

Niamh Foley. Call me Niamh.

OK, Niamh.

How'd you like to pay for this?
Cash. Is delivery included?

It is. In fact,
I'll deliver it myself.

Oh. A real-life celebrity
delivering my chair.

How could I refuse?
Would you like a selfie?

Sure.

PHONE RINGING

Regan.
'Brady, Ma'am.

'Forensics are back on the items
belonging to Finn Walsh.'

Anything?
'Negative on his hurley sticks,

'but on his clothing,
they found traces of Conor's blood.'

All right.

MONTY: Ah, come on. Up, down, no!
MAN: Lads, keep going. Come on.

Nice one, nice one. Well done, lads.
Come on.

Move along.
Pass it right. Come on.

CHATTERING
Come on.

Keep it going. Keep going.

FINN: Fuck are they doing here?

Don't, it'll only make it worse.

You are under arrest for
the suspected murder of Conor Byrne.

You are not obliged to say anything
unless you wish to,

but anything you do say
will be taken down in writing

and may be given in evidence.

I know this lad.
He's innocent, I'm sure of it.

How sure?
MONTY GRUNTS

Yeah, I didn't think so. Come on.

PLAYER: Hey, what's going on, coach?

Go on, carry on.
Mind your own business.

Back to the drill. Go on.

LIAM: Excuse me.
What do you want?

I wanna help
with your investigation.

Yeah, talk to him.

I'm all ears.

I have some video footage
you might be interested in.

Aye, OK.

Send it to me.
OK. Thanks.

MULLEN WHISTLES
Hey, you!

Shite. Gotta go.
I told you, you're barred from here!

The kid's a troublemaker.

Do you know him?
Aye.

He's been hanging around here
looking for dirt on Conor.

I told him there isn't any.
Aye.

Hey, what's going on with him?

You have a good day, Mr Mullen.

He's got nothing to do with it.
Don't you worry, son!

I'll phone my solicitor.

REGAN: Since we last spoke,
we received Conor's phone records.

You didn't tell us you'd texted him
on the night of the murder.

I told you I was drunk.
I don't remember anything.

You remembered to delete the message
from your phone. Why was that?

No comment.

No comment.
It doesn't matter.

Your phone is with Forensics.
We'll find it soon enough.

OK, so, here's how it looks to me.

You and Conor had an argument
in the bar

over the fact
that he wasn't a team player.

Monty was forced to step in
to break things up,

but you had unfinished business.

So you texted Conor to meet you
in the clubhouse

to set things straight.

You're a local,
so you know how to get there

along a path avoiding the CCTV.

When Conor arrives with the hurley
stick to defend himself, you argue.

You snatch the hurley stick off him
and use it to hit him,

just like you hit a sliotar.

That's not true.

You didn't mean to kill him, but
you got a kick out of hurting him.

Then you couldn't stop.

You hated him.

You thought he was gonna steal
your place on the team.

No comment.

What did you do
with the hurley stick, Finn?

The one you smashed
into Conor's head.

Pure speculation, Detective.

Only when you left
the clubhouse afterwards

did the full horror
of what you did sink in.

We tested the puke. It's yours.

Perhaps your delayed response

to the appalling crime
you'd just committed.

Are you a qualified psychologist
now, Detective?

I don't need to be
to know when someone's lying.

May I outline the facts?

I won't ask any questions.

Fine by me.
Finn...

..fact one, you were caught on CCTV

leaving Jack's bar at 9pm
on the evening of the murder.

Fact number two, despite
telling us that you were going home,

you, in fact, headed in the opposite
direction towards the clubhouse.

Fact number three, we know
you were in the vicinity of the club

because you threw up less
than 50 yards from the crime scene,

and we have your DNA to prove it.

Fact number four,

you texted the murder victim,
and you don't remember why.

Fact number five,
you have no alibi.

Fact number six -
and this is the real killer punch -

the blood of the victim
is on your clothing.

Now, I don't know
if there's such a thing

as a collective noun for facts...

A fuckload of facts?
Wait.

I remember now.
Oh, really?

Are you sure about that, Finn?
Yes.

I went to the club
to do his car over,

but I was so hammered,
I only made it as far as the bench,

where I puked and then fell asleep.

I never actually made it
as far as the clubhouse.

So why is Conor's blood
on your clothes?

No comment.

Here's another fact
for your client.

He's going nowhere
for the next 48 hours.

The forensics are damning,

but given the ferocity
of the attack,

surely, there should be
more blood on him?

How much blood do you need?

Enough to convince a jury that
it's not some kind of contamination.

What do you think, Detective?

I believe him when he says he was
so drunk, he can't remember much.

I've been that way myself.

What about the text message?

When we know what it says,
we'll take a view on it.

The case against him
needs to be watertight, Regan,

if you want me
to grant an extension,

which means
you'd better get on with it.

She's right.
Whose side are you on?

It's not about sides.
It's about getting it right.

Finn's probably guilty,
but "probably" isn't good enough.

Ma'am? Sergeant Shakir
is on the line.

She found something interesting in
the video the journalist sent you.

What video? What journalist?
Oh, Liam O'Hagan?

We did ask anyone with information
to come forward.

Yeah, the type of guy you can't
shake off. Reminds me of someone.

'He sent this footage about
an hour ago. Sharing screen now.'

LIAM ON VIDEO: 'Monty,
can you tell us what Conor and Finn

'were arguing about
in the bar earlier?

'Is it true you want Conor
to take over the number 14 shirt?

'There's rumours you're drinking
again, Monty, is that true?'

MONTY: 'If I see your face
near Carrick again,

'I'll smash it in!'

'That's it.'

What time was this video shot at?

'Er, timecode says 10:15pm.'

Monty told us after he left the bar,

he went home,
he stayed there all night.

So... where's he going?

All right, Monty?

MONTY: Go on.

Right, go in.

You told us
after you left Jack's bar,

you went home
and didn't come out again.

Why'd you lie?
Who said I did?

We have video footage.
HE SCOFFS SOFTLY

Liam O'Hagan, right?

Where were you going?

I was trying to protect Finn.

From what?
Himself.

He and Conor had a row in the bar.
What about?

Tactics, who was playing where
for the semi-final.

Don't do anything stupid,
or I'll kick you off the team.

I decide where you play,
not Jack Mullen.

What "stupid" thing
were you afraid Finn might do?

He talked about
vandalising Conor's car.

So I took the dog for a walk
to the car park here

to check if it was OK.

That's when Liam filmed me leaving.

On my way, I...
I found Finn on a bench up there.

He was out for the count,
so I left him to sleep it off.

Did you see anyone
or anything else suspicious?

No.

So, Jack wanted Conor
to play the number 14 shirt

cos he was better than Finn?

Yep.
And there was no another reason?

Jack offered Conor cash
to throw games.

As a number 14,
it's easier to score or miss,

depending on spot betting.

Clever.
And Conor told you this?

I told him to go to the Guards,
but he didn't wanna speak out.

You should've come to us.

I've got my own troubles without
getting involved in someone else's.

And I wasn't gonna make allegations
against Jack Mullen.

Like him or not - and I don't -

he gave me a job
when no-one else would.

Did Conor accept Mullen's bribe?

All I know is, he said he didn't
wanna play any more. Why not?

He was leaving here
with his girlfriend and her baby.

Kelly Logan?
Yeah.

I asked him where,
but he wouldn't say.

He just said,
"Somewhere far away from here."

That would explain why he had
all his stuff packed away in boxes.

Yeah. Did anyone else
know about this?

Liam O'Hagan. He's been working
on this story for months.

Himself and Conor
used to play together

on Conor's old team up north,

until Liam got injured in training
and had to retire early.

The hotel.
What about it?

That's where I've seen Kelly.

It's where she met Conor.

Liam sleeps here,
which isn't really allowed,

but he keeps odd hours,
so I bend the rules.

He's a bit of a loner.

OK. You can go now. Thank you.

Lottie Mullen's no WAG.
She's a pimp.

Aye, and Kelly works for her.

They're all in on it -
Mullen, his wife...

hotel manager.

Gambling and prostitution.

Jeez, it's like Vegas!
Huh.

That must be
why Conor wanted the money.

He wanted to try and save Kelly.

Like he couldn't save his mother.

LIAM ON VIDEO: 'I want my story,
Conor. You owe me.'

My God.

CONOR: 'You still blame me
for your injury?'

'You did it on purpose
to take my place on the team.'

I took your place on that team
cos I was better than you, Liam.

Why won't you admit that
Mullen's paying you to throw games?

It's a great story.

Hurling's golden boy,
Conor Byrne, takes bribes

and then runs off with a prostitute.

Keep Kelly out of this!

I'm only saying
how some people will report it.

If you talk to me, I'll tell
your side of the story and hers.

I'm warning you, Liam.

Yeah, I'm gonna bring Mullen down.

People like him
are ruining this game.

I only care about Kelly, all right?
We love each other.

And we're gonna be together.

And nobody's gonna stop us.

Nobody!

If Kelly wants to talk to me,
that's her choice.

We need to find Kelly.

SIMON: Your receipt, Mrs Healy.

WHISPERS: I don't know
what your boyfriend was up to -

and, frankly, I don't care -

but don't you dare screw up
what we have going here.

LIFT BELL DINGS

DOOR OPENS

Hi. I'm Aoife. Mr Lee?

Come in.

SHAKIR: 'I'm at Kelly's flat, Sir.

'Her mother said
she went to work half an hour ago.'

OK, stay there. Tell Armstrong
we'll meet him at the hotel.

No-one said anything about filming.

Would an extra 200 help?

You'd have to hide my face.
That's no problem.

Er, no, that's not why we're here.

Please... sit down.

What do you mean?
I wanna talk about Conor.

Are you Liam?

Did Conor mention me?

I don't wanna do this.

But you have to.
You're my main source.

I want everyone to know what Conor
Byrne was really like, you know?

He tried to kill me.

SHE BREATHES SHAKILY

Wait! Stop! I just wanna talk!

Simon Mason, you're under arrest

for procurement and facilitation of
sexual services for financial gain.

You do not have to say anything,
but it may harm your defence

if you fail to mention something
which you later rely on in court.

Turn around. Anything you do say
may be given in evidence.

Did this man check in?

CHLOE: Yes.
Yeah? Room number?

Quick!
424.

Regan, I'll go!
You're out of your jurisdiction.

For fuck's sake!
Armstrong, follow her.

You, stay with him.
OFFICERS: Yes, Sir.

Regan!

LIAM: Kelly!

Hey! Kelly, Kelly. It's OK. It's OK.

You're safe, you're safe.
Armstrong, take her.

Liam O'Hagan, you're under arrest
for the murder of Conor Byrne...

You fucking prick! Liam! Come on!

REGAN MUTTERS
Jesus!

Come on!
Regan!

Come on, Boyd, keep up!

Liam, it's not worth it.

Let's just go downstairs and talk.

I was the best player in St Mary's
before he came along.

He injured me on purpose.

What happened
in the dressing room, Liam?

He attacked me.

I was just defending myself.

GASPING

CONOR: Fuck!
GRUNTS

I was better than him.

Ask anyone.

EXHALES SHAKILY

CHILDREN LAUGHING

ROSIE CHUCKLES

OK. I'm coming! I'm coming!

Ah!

ROSIE: Here we go.

Right.
ELLIE: Yes!

DANIEL: Yeah!

Mind you don't give your daddy
a heart attack!

ALL LAUGHING

Er, I have a delivery for Niamh?

Do I look like a Niamh to you?

This is the address I was given.

Wait a second,
are you that fella off them ads?

This is 16 Castle Street, yeah?
Aye.

Wait till I tell my daughter
that I met you!

What is that?
A massage chair.

I could use one of them.

"Sciatica" is my middle name.

How much?
900 euro.

900?!

Don't touch it, right?

Docket says 16 Castle Street.

Aye, check it out.

Whoa!

Hello, Patrick.

BOYD AND CHILDREN
LAUGHING

DANIEL: Yeah!
PHONE RINGING

Phil! It's your girlfriend!

BOYD: You heard?
REGAN ON PHONE: 'What?'

Liam admitted
to trying to frame Finn.

He found Finn asleep on the bench,

and he contaminated his clothing
with Conor's blood.

He also used Finn's phone
to text Conor.

But he's still trying
to claim self-defence.

'No chance.'
Aye.

'Anyway, that's not
why I'm calling.'

STAIR CREAKS

GASPS

PANTING

PANTING ECHOES

GUNSHOTS ECHOING

NANCY: No.

No, no.
Daddy!

NANCY AND BOYD
SOBBING

Daddy!

SCREAMING: Daddy!

FADING: 'Daddy!'

SIGHS DEEPLY

STAIR CREAKS

I believe
you've both met here before.

MUFFLED GROANING

Jesus Christ, Regan. Are you mad?

You wanted answers,
now's your chance.

I didn't mean kidnap him.

"Whatever it takes."
Your words not mine.

You...

We're in big trouble. I, er...

It's your word against his.
No-one even knows he's here.

Find a scar, and then you'll know.
It's up to you what you do with him.

No. No, Regan.
This is like the bad old days, OK?

It doesn't happen any more.
The world has moved on.

Regan, look at me. No.

You know what I think?

I think you're scared of the truth.
Well, guess what, Chief?

I'm not.
Regan, st...

All right. Show time.

W-Where is it? Where...?

Where's the fucking scar?
Jesus Christ!

I'm so sorry.
I had no idea she was planning this.

I told you I didn't do it.
You're both in deep shit!

No, but your... your fingerprints
were on the stolen car.

You were here that night.
I've never been here in my life.

I stole the car.
That's why my prints were on it.

But I didn't kill your da.
Someone else had that pleasure.

What did you just say?

You look just like him.

Come on, Boyd. Just leave it now.
No.

You know who did it. Tell me.

You really have no idea
about your father, do you?

He ran a murder squad on the border.

Shoot to kill -
that was their policy.

He was responsible for at least
two murders and numerous beatings.

The British knew about it
but did nothing to stop him.

So we stopped him instead.
You're making it up.

The Guards knew
what was going on here that night

and turned a blind eye.

You're a liar.

My da was a brave
and respected policeman

who worked hard for his community -
they loved him.

He died for them.
Hundreds turned out for his funeral.

You were too young
to know any different.

Your father was a legitimate target.

That's why he was executed.
Oh, yeah?

Boyd, no!

You murdered my da in cold blood
in this very room,

in front of my mother,
and she was covered in his blood.

Boyd, listen to...
My da, who... who loved me,

whose family worshipped him,

and you have the nerve to tell me
that he was a murderer?

Fuck you.
COCKS GUN

No!
He's telling the truth.

Regan, get out of my way.

There's a file. I can show you.

Regan.

Trust me.

Gorman, I can send your file
to the Department of Justice,

or it can remain hidden, understood?

ENGINE STARTS

Boyd?

My da used to measure me
against this frame.

Back then, you had be
at least 5' 6" to join the force.

I remember being worried sick
about not reaching it.

We were the same.

Now they're so desperate,
they'll take anyone with a pulse.

SOFTLY: Aye.

Why didn't you tell me
about the murder squad?

I just thought knowing
who pulled the trigger was enough.

You didn't need to know the rest.

Thank you, Regan.

You owe me 900 euro
for a massage chair.

Gorman said I look like my da.

So?

Nothing in there. Maybe in his room.

That's him.

Sean?

Patrick.

How are you, son?

I'm good... Da.

I haven't seen you in years.

Is this your wife?

Don't you recognise me, Sean?

Ah, of course I do.

Are they for me?

Aye.
I'll get a vase.

SOFTLY: You have about two minutes.
OK.

She's a wee cracker.
You'll be lucky to keep hold of her.

Who dressed you this morning, Sean?

Your buttons are done up wrong.
Are they?

Aye, yeah. Hey.

Here... let me help you.
Oh.

That's your mother's fault.
She dressed me this morning.

SOFTLY: Aye, yeah.

Don't worry, son.

Everything's gonna be all right.

Aye.

Aye.

SONG ON PIANO:
'Impromptu In G-Flat Major'

PIANO CONTINUES

PIANO STOPS

BUZZING

CHAIR BUZZING

MAN: Found her.

Subtitles by accessibility@itv.com