Original subtitles

You three were lost in age or death for how long.

You there were my company where the fire was the top of the test.

The stars were our friends.

Where there'd be a burglary, making shelter and a dried stone.

Though from this day my own hands will make a tent for me.

Oh my god.

Is she okay?

It really hurts.

What's happening?

Oh my god.

Sarah, what happened?

She fell.

An ambulance. Call an ambulance.

Oh my god.

An ambulance.

Good morning.

You broke a personal record there.

Don't we make a grand pair?

My mother is seven months into recovery from a stroke.

Me celebrating six months on the dry.

Brad.

Your father.

Disgusting.

Jack, what have you done?

Josh.

Greek yogurt.

Supposed to be good for my stomach.

Look.

Fix you.

I have a quick word.

Jennings way detective.

Keith Jennings.

And you want his number to congratulate him?

Jennings is hard working.

He's a team player.

Team player.

Sweeney plays early.

Jennings has to work hard.

Just recovery zone.

Mess ups.

That's suicide.

The Bradley girl.

Where are we?

As well as the fall there were signs of an overdose.

Toxicology should be back later today.

Look Kate.

You'll make detective.

You've been a book chief for what?

Four months?

Five.

Five months.

I did a year.

I do things by the book.

It will be seen to be done by the book.

Thank you.

Detective Sergeant.

A horrible tragedy.

And a misery for her family.

She didn't ask me here to see if I know any good allergies.

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 the 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 did it say?

Only the guards know.

Maybe they told the family.

You say Sarah was a drama student?

Oh yes.

She dropped one of my drama courses last year.

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

Sarah was brimming with self-confidence.

I really cannot accept that she chose to end her life.

I'm asking you to look into it.

And I'm willing to pay.

Blood tests are due in tonight.

We'll know more then.

But it looks like heroin.

Seriously?

Her arm's marked up?

Single puncture mark.

Must have been 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.

All was punched in the paper.

It is I who am desolate.

I, Sarah, that will not live till I am old.

And that's Deirdre.

Who?

It's from Deirdre the Sorrows by John Millington Seane.

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 at the Garda Training College,

stopped 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, and I stop questioning it.

It's one thing you see in 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.

So it's 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.

That changes.

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.

In Kingcrawher of Osterwald, when she was of age, you would marry her.

He had her raised deep and safe in the 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 across the old devil.

Deirdre was headstrong.

She fell in love with a handsome young warrior, Anisha.

They ran up to Scotland together where for seven years they lived in bliss.

Deirdre was too independent to live in hiding.

She insisted they come home and face the old king together

to demand her freedom.

And?

Hello?

Hi.

It's me.

I'll be down in a minute.

It's Griffin. He's early.

Anything interesting?

Come on. I told you a story.

And I brought you pictures.

Sorry, Evans?

Blow the candles out. Pull the latch after you.

Oh.

What happened?

Deirdre, 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 and joins her lover in the grave.

So, Deirdre, the Sorrows verdict suicide.

Star, I was thinking spicy Thai, maybe fiery Mexican.

But no.

Keating on into the hospital soon.

We're not here for the hospital.

We're here for the morgue.

And this is the only country, Meg?

Yeah.

Blood tests are unusual.

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

Sarah OD'd on hospital grade morphine, enough to kill her if the fall hadn't.

Morphine not heroin in one injection?

No, only morphine was injected.

They found traces of aluminium on her lungs.

Yeah, tinfoil. She was a smoker as well.

How long was she chasing the dragon?

Probably more than a year.

So, she decides on suicide, but wants to exit on something purer than street bread.

Only question is where she put the morphine.

We could check the hospital for patient prescriptions.

It'll take a court order.

Okay.

That's not the only question.

The dressing on, the literary note, it feels wrong.

Put heroin in the mix, a lot of things will stop Saint Ron.

Hi, Linda.

Good to see you.

I can say hello to Linda.

You're looking well.

Likewise, Jack.

That's the small talk done.

Come on, it's first case in months.

Ah, ah, Liam.

Good to see you.

The Adelichian muzzle for him.

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

See you, Linda.

So, I read that play you were talking about.

Deers with a whatever.

But something, it's hard going.

But I found something.

Look here.

Start of Act Two.

Where he came in the shower was before the dawn.

And?

He came in the shower.

Brilliant.

Great.

You already sound like a student.

You can go attend Sarah's lectures.

Get the measure of her classmates or lecturers.

You're sending me to school.

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.

Well?

Not drunk?

Aren't the guards still thinking suicide?

That's the line.

Sarah had a history of drug use, so.

Oh, if she was alone.

How did she do up all those dress hooks?

Jack, put that away.

Let's begin now.

Oh, come on.

Rosary's about to kick off.

I can feel it.

Professor Gorman?

Yes.

Oh, good to see you again, Garda.

The development.

It turns out your expertise could be of some use.

Well, perhaps you misremember my expertise is just the Irish literature.

Yes, and we need to talk about John Millington-Singh.

Jack, that's not public.

Have you met Lawrence Doyle?

He taught Sarah before this dreadful business episode.

Jack Taylor and Garda Noon.

They're piecing together what happened to Sarah.

Personal interest, Mr. Taylor?

Just an interest in the truth.

Well, let me know if I can help.

For now, I'm running late.

Yeah.

So, John Millington-Singh.

Well, visit me whenever you like.

Company is always welcome.

Five minutes, Jack.

And please, no funny stuff.

Hi.

Thank you for coming.

Hello?

Yeah, just pop by Sarah Bradley's.

OK.

What the hell do you think you're doing?

You see a typewriter anywhere?

Out, now.

There's nothing here.

We already took her smoking stash.

See these books?

A 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 here.

What's he doing here?

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

I'm here to pay my respects.

Is there 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.

Now, that sounds familiar.

You sent me a Valentine's last year.

OK, Taylor.

Dead guards don't consider this a murder.

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

There's people mourning in there.

Here come a kid.

Come here.

I told you about doing things by the book, and the next day I find you giving

a crazy bastard a guided tour of a dead guard's home.

Come on.

Kate.

Look, I know you two go way back, but if you want to get ahead, scrape that guy off.

At the age of 51, compelled apparently by his horoscope,

W.B. Yates proposes to Maude Gaughan for the fourth time.

Failing, he turns immediately to Maude's 21-year-old daughter.

No success there.

Within a year, he proposes to Jordie Hyde Lees.

Wedding bells at last.

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

Are these three women to remain blameless objects in the story?

And what do we know of the spells they cast on 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.

Are you spying on me or something?

Well, if you're fine near 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 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 rumors went around that she was smoking heroin, I was even, like, good.

Hope it kills you, you little witch.

Oh, God. Am I evil, right?

I've met a few evil people in my time, Sheena.

I don't think you caught it.

Anyways, I wasn't the only one who taught that stuff.

Sarah Bradley was the uber queen of the bitches.

God rest her.

I think she even had a thing with him.

Dr. 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, dear, oh, dear.

Poor Sarah.

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

So says daddy.

Are you sure that I can't touch you?

A full disclosure, professor.

I'm on the wagon for today.

Well, I admire your candor.

Now, what do you have here?

Oh.

The note from Sarah's finger.

Yes, well, I think we can rule out the involvement of John Millington Singh

and say that this is just an astonishing copy.

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

Garden Unan.

You are an intriguing man.

Stop calling me professor. Call me Eugene.

Fine. Anyway, the play.

Well, the text is suffused with death and murder.

Singh himself died before its completion.

Yates and Molly Allgood finished the work.

Always seemed like a feminist thing to me.

Deirdre makes her own choices.

She's strong, independent.

Maybe Sarah was too.

That is one reading.

You could also say that Deirdre was a selfish

beauty who cared only for her own wishes.

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

My wife used to dance around here.

I can still see her disappearing among the trees, laughing, appearing again.

Sorry. She passed away.

Ah, yes.

Four years ago. Cancer.

Far too banal an end for a woman of her high drama.

You know, at first she despised it out here.

She thought that I'd kidnapped her away from the

bright lights, from the glamour of Gorman City.

Humour my own inquisition.

Discard a friend of yours, Kate Noonan.

Do I detect a special relationship there?

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

My guard a friend.

Someone told me that guards don't have friends.

Isn't this air just glorious, eh?

Is that a gate?

Help you, sir.

John Millington Singh.

Irish playwright and poet.

What can you do for me?

I think we're all out.

How much for the typewriter?

Five grand.

Belonged to William Burroughs.

I need to try it.

You 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, yeah.

What about the girl?

- She bought a lot of books here. - Aye.

Jumped off her roof in the college.

Did 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've been at all my lectures this week.

I'm just interested in learning about Yeats and Oedipus and...

the lads.

You got a crush on me?

No.

Why is it that because I'm studying, everyone thinks I'm a weirdo?

Fine.

Feel free to attend my lectures.

You'd 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.

Karen.

Karen, please wait. What did I do wrong?

What did you do? Not enough.

You're still seeing that old creep, Professor Doyle, aren't you?

Jesus.

Oedipus, didn't you recognize him?

Well, I suppose, dead barely, it's kind of in bad taste.

Consider him in your investigation.

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

Ah, sir. Usually.

Ah, a whiskey, Jeff, please.

And also I realized I owe you your first payment.

You know, I admit to a fascination.

The cryptic clues, the femme fatale, the hard-boiled investigator.

The more frightened and hard-boiled right now.

But why here? I mean, you don't drink.

And I doubt that you're a sporting fan.

I follow a bit of foodie, but no, the real attraction, Eugene.

The atmosphere.

Gosh.

Oh, the fables bookshop, I know.

The owner could be a heroin supplier.

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

Shaken down? That's marvelous.

Karen, wait up.

Come back here.

Here, come here for a sec. Let me get a photo.

Cool.

Stand up.

You're like Big Zombie Smiling.

Lovely.

Thank you.

He needs to get me something for college records.

The fellow missing an eye, it's Ronan Myers.

About six months ago, he went on a spree in bed at three swans.

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

I can't believe he's not locked up.

It's a long while men have been talking of Dadra.

The child who had all gifts and the beauty that has no equal.

Give me a break.

I'm down to five of these a day.

It's a pretty subtle torture.

What suffering changes.

Jeff, that muck's been on all day.

Jack?

You know him?

Oh, yes, I do, from campus.

Ronan Myers, isn't it?

I mean, there was some unfortunate business with swans.

Diagnosed psychotic, if I'm correct.

He's on a special program.

Do you think he's a fit for Sarah Bradley's killer?

I like the world with him.

He's one of the best people in the world.

I like the world with him.

No, it's not that.

Oh, it's not even funny anymore.

What nice.

Oh, I'm hanging on.

Karen. Karen, are you there?

Karen.

They warned me about you, Karen.

They said you'd be like this.

I should have listened.

Karen?

Jack, how are you?

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 the real catch.

God, that's so beautiful.

Listen to her go.

How's your mother?

How are you as a question? What the hell do you want?

Sheena bought those pills off Rowan a few hours ago, just to be sure, like.

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

So we thought, might as well just do half.

You know the way.

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

But don't worry, Jack. I'm on.

And I looked into Rowan's file.

He's an outpatient on probation.

Part of a new program to see if college can help keep his mind active and all that.

Rowan.

Rowan.

Rowan, stop!

Come on, Joe!

I got you. I got you.

Whoa!

I'm sure he's fighting you.

Rowan.

Hey.

I didn't do anything.

I just want to talk to you.

Fuck, I'm dying.

I just want to talk to you.

I'm slinging a bit of hash, you know.

Nothing bigger.

No powder to that.

There's still a bit of parking there.

I don't touch the stuff myself.

I mean, I can't, you know the way.

I'm on good meds, though.

Anti-psychotics.

Strong stuff.

You want some hash?

Rokes?

Buddy.

Go back to your girl or go home, whatever you like.

You're not mad, are you?

You did good.

Go on.

Dirty fighting you.

I quit the boost after what happened.

No more to hold.

Gotcha.

Come on.

Jack, what have you done?

Just get out of here.

I'm sorry, you know.

The eye.

Never understood why you didn't shot me.

'Cause you did me a favor, Jack, you know.

You stopped me.

What would I have done next?

Doing your best to get better, right?

There's no point in kicking yourself.

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

You won't tell them you saw me dealing.

I didn't tell any of those, sure I didn't.

My lips are sealed.

I'm supposed to be on the car seal, you know.

With the window.

I don't know the locks busted.

I asked you about something else.

The dead girl, huh?

She was a wild one.

She tried to scar her on it.

This is over a year ago though, before it all.

She was getting it from somewhere.

Any ideas?

I sent it to the only guy I knew.

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

Guy's a total psycho.

Aren't we all?

Hey, how are you? 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. I can believe it, she was fine.

Same year and studying the same subjects as Sarah Bradley.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

She probably turned up in the bed, said it's Ligo, lost her phone.

Look, start with friends and family.

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

No apologies, no thanks.

We went straight out of the bookshop.

Apparently the password is, "Do you have any house music?"

Dated, isn't it?

It's the idea, I suppose.

You think he could have killed Sarah?

Drugs, literature, reputation is a bit of a psycho.

A knife under the desk is worth a rattle.

Like us.

After half blinding someone in my last citizen's arrest,

I'll pass this one to you.

What's your source?

Pitiful for want of pity.

What?

From Deirdre of the Sorrows by Sing.

You know Sing?

One of Dad's favourites.

Not pitiful.

Just bad.

Pure bad.

Pure bad.

Yeah, we thought so too.

All right, let us know when it's in place.

Drug Squad will start surveillance on the bookshop straight away.

What, straight away?

They'll be in place tonight, maybe in the morning.

Same year, Luke.

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 problem with connection.

Who's your lead on this bookshop?

They don't want to be identified.

Right.

Karen Lowe.

They're saying she's missing.

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

Gone one day.

Is that even Countess missing with students?

He knows we're on to it. We warned me off.

He's our man, Jack.

And now you're jumping ahead.

Come!

Call an ambulance, Cody.

Call an ambulance?

Call an ambulance, Cody.

It's this hour, we're between the daytime and the night,

where there is sleep forever.

And isn't it a better thing to be following on to it?

This is Karen Lowe.

Don't miss me as Deirdre of the Sorrows.

One performance only.

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

Who was getting them?

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I should have loved this.

You need to talk.

Fine.

I'll show you where I want to go.

Okay, listen.

Maybe you're the kind of guy who tries to do the right thing.

And maybe I keep fucking up.

It's me.

Your son.

You need to stay away from Kate.

Both professionally and personally you'll be doing her a favor.

What?

It's not complicated.

Just stay away from her.

Fuck's sake!

Find anything you like?

Got any house music?

This way.

What the fuck are you doing here?

My regular guy.

Got picked up.

Didn't even get bail.

I'm in need. I just want your help.

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

But I'd need a little convincing.

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

You're whatever you want.

Can you fix me up first?

I'm whatever you want.

I can have skag-hag action anytime.

I'll take you straight.

Here.

I'll show you the goods.

Catch you in the moon.

I don't use needles. I smoke.

We can work that too.

Lovely black tar.

You know, there's no reason why we can't both enjoy this.

Bitch!

Come here.

Right.

You alright?

I really enjoyed that.

How was it for you?

Bitch!

Where are you, 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, though.

Don't miss me at Deirdre after Sorrows.

One performance only.

The place that bears the name of my author,

John Millington Singh.

She said the place that bears Singh's name.

Singh Street in Dublin.

What else bears his name?

Singh'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. Singh Hall.

Jack?

This place has deserted most of the time.

Not as long as he needed.

Yeah, and he would have needed time with sick fuck.

What happened to your eye?

Jack Taylor happened.

Why? How?

I gave him a final warrant to stay away from his case.

You mean to stay away from me?

When you're on this case, it'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. I should have listened to you.

Okay?

I know Jack was your lead on that bookshop,

and he 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 there was more between us.

Perhaps an affair, even.

It crossed my mind.

The last thing people expect of a priest these days is decency.

We were friends, Jack.

We leaned on each other.

Yes, in the most innocent way.

I love Mary.

I love them.

I'm glad she had that.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

I'm glad for you, too.

We were friends, my father.

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

Cody?

I wanted to say sorry about Dial.

What do you mean?

You had your suspicions early on when I shut you down.

I should have listened.

Well, the guards have them now.

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

But you shouldn't be thinking about all that anyway.

The day that's in it, Jack.

I was going to head off.

Are you going to be all right?

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

Do.

Thanks for coming, lads.

Allegations of gross moral turpitude.

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

Gross moral turpitude.

That's what it's called.

What do you say about these allegations?

What I have to say is that 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?

No.

You're just helping the Gardaí with their inquiries.

This was found in your office.

Matches what Karen was wearing when last seen.

You know forensics will show this belongs to her.

Kay, 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 toothpick.

We are going to find Karen's DNA.

On your pillowcase. On your Jim Jams.

Somewhere.

So how are you doing?

There are times, rare enough, now and again, when it's really easy.

And you?

I get this great feeling sometimes, when I realise I've gone for days, weeks,

with nothing to feel guilty about.

You know, it's been a while since I've been here.

And you?

When I realise I've gone for days, weeks, with nothing to feel guilty about.

It's good.

Sounds good.

Women and men handle grief differently.

Women can fall apart totally.

Let all the feelings out.

Then just get on with things.

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

A grieving man can lose his mind entirely.

Because 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.

Linda, I just want...

I just want to escape everything.

Everything.

Just for one night.

Just for even an hour, you know.

Good evening.

Hi.

Ronan. Ronan!

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

Last night it was very special, but...

You're a wonderful woman, but...

And they have something to say after a 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.

Jack?

Sorry Jack, I know what I've been saying.

But I found something.

It's important.

I'm coming.

Who?

Jesus, I don't know.

Put on a hat.

Mom?

No way.

You didn't, Jack.

Cody.

Just relax.

We're adults, right?

Liam, don't! For God's sake!

It's okay.

We're okay, Linda.

So...

Well, you have to say this is so important.

Tidy roundhouse you've got there.

I'm sorry I hit you.

Like you said, you're both adults.

It's not like I made you post for anything.

Anyway, so I've been trying to get through the rest of the play.

But like I said, it's not my thing.

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

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

They've got performances of nearly everything.

So this is ten years ago.

College drama suck.

That's short for society.

Your friend.

Lauren Stile.

The hottie.

Quite a hit in the Galway theatrical circuit.

She died young.

Her name's Isolde Brannigan.

Right.

So you know who she was married to?

I didn't know she was married.

You.

So...

Isolde Brannigan'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 I ended it when I found out.

Karen was using heroin.

She was smoking.

I wanted her to stop.

I wanted her to get help.

She wouldn't.

She couldn't.

So I ended it.

I never hurt her.

Sarah was using too.

You have that effect on all the girls.

Sarah?

No, 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 exploited of old dirt bird.

But a killer?

I doubt it.

Aye.

No.

You made some good intuitive leaps earlier.

I tried to block you.

I should have listened.

I was wrong.

And I'm sorry.

What's big of you?

Drug squad are gonna go hard on how you handle the bookshop.

They reckon you cut them off in bigger fish upstream.

But I'm gonna make sure you're commended on this one.

Not because of any personal.

You know.

What did he take me for?

Someone who likes a fiery Mexican.

It's late. Do you think that place is still open?

Not that late.

I'm sorry for barging down a short notice in the hour.

I said any time and I meant it, Jack.

Come in, come in.

De Zalda Brannigan.

Made the roll of deed where the sorrows are on.

Eugene, why didn't you tell me?

Let me show you something.

I nursed De Zalda 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?

Oh, that is sad.

That is a sorrow.

I was with a Zalda, she went.

To brush eternity with one another.

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, Misha.

Oh, Miss Zalda.

She was such a natural.

You might as well try to direct the weather.

But isn't she every bit a celestial?

Doyle, what a hag.

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 Daedra always returned to her old king, to me.

It's a different narrative.

My narrative.

Towards the end, as Zalda grew hostile,

she enjoyed rubbing my old nose into old humiliations.

She would tell me every detail about what her young lovers did with her.

With her strong fingers.

With her wet tongues.

Behold the cockles.

I will never know what was truth or what was said simply to torture me,

but I forgot nothing.

Certainly not their names.

Names like Lawrence Doyle.

Names like Jack Taylor.

It was one night, a long time ago,

I didn't even know she was married.

She was.

She was.

Did you kill Sarah Bradley and Karen Lowell?

Do you expect me to answer such a blunt and ugly accusation

without evidence?

Jack Taylor must try harder.

I had questions to answer.

- Well, it was pretty fiery. - No.

I got sick of Dublin.

Here we are.

So, you sure you'll be all right on your own?

Nice try, Luke.

Good night.

Okay. See you tomorrow.

Good night.

Okay.

- Morning. - Oh. Morning.

Erin Lowe's toxicology.

Again, traces of aluminium found on the lungs,

but the overdose is hospital morphine.

Again, a single puncture mark, expertly administered.

We have to get those hospital prescription records.

I've got to push on the court order.

Shook 'em through today.

The writing.

Probably done by a syringe needle.

Blood flow indicates she was still alive.

I'm going to have it.

Professor Gorman, for you.

God, it's about Jack Taylor.

I'll admit that 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.

He said I was a killer.

I tried to eject him.

He was incoherent, shouting about the dead girls.

He was demanding a confession.

This time I was on the floor.

And he said...

I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

He said unrepeatable things about my wife.

Zolter passed away some years ago.

He had a sort of gadget.

Is it called a stun gun?

Yeah, well, he used it on me and I passed out.

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

Oh, no, no, no, no.

I will absolutely not press charges.

Jack is disturbed.

And his mother died only a couple of days ago.

What?

Yeah, and it really has pushed him over the edge.

And just make sure he doesn't do 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.

Garmin killed those girls.

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

If Garmin was trying to frame you, then why didn't you press charges?

And, God, I wish he had have, because I'd have had you locked up by now.

I'd have you fucking sedated.

Ask Garmin about his Zolter.

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, hmm?

Talk to Doyle. If he had a history with Garmin'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 Garmin.

Do you think he can manage that?

Garmin confirmed Roland's absence from college and

the clinic say he's missed maybe two days' medication.

And you really think he's impossible for the killer?

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

In the meantime, word about it's unknown, he's in extreme danger.

Here.

You were part of the rest of that swan business, right?

Remember this?

A swan's sorrow with 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.

Mum.

I'm going to walk. I've got something good to do.

Do you think Garmin kept the girls at his house?

I mean, Jesus, Jack, you can have fun there now. We should get up there.

The house is isolated, but 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 to offer my condolences on your loss.

And I didn't make the funeral.

I'm really sorry, Jack.

I've been busy barking up the wrong trees.

I thought you should know Ronan Myers is missing.

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

I met Ronan a few nights ago. He's screwed up,

psychotic, sure, but basically he's a good kid.

And he's no murderer kid.

Go back a bit. You met him.

And?

He's been dealing harsh. Small time.

He was my lead on 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 can.

You'll see it.

I wouldn't say this at the station.

But the stun gun?

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

Stun gun?

Hey, I... I blinded Ronan Myers with his own stun gun.

I didn't tell you. I... probably should have.

Just talk to Doyle again.

He has a long history with Gorman and his wife. He might know something.

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

Go back. 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.

Didn't even trust me.

When I trust people, shit tends to happen.

♪ Tense music ♪

♪ Tense music ♪

♪ Tense music ♪

Who's that? Let me out!

I'm suffocating.

I was down to fight with these a day.

Give me one guess how that's going.

You filthy twit! You ruined my life!

I get that a lot.

So I see your stash there.

What else did you not tell the cops, huh?

Easy, tiger.

My guess now.

The dead girls, Sarah and Karen.

You introduced them to the joys of chasing a dragon.

I'm losing my job, my tenure. What more do you want?

They must have thought you were some sophisticated literary outlaw, huh?

Lord fucking Byron.

So...

The smack.

Huh?

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 Garmon.

What about him?

You might want that hit.

Garmon murdered the girls.

You're crazy.

He's taken 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.

Garmon's pulling all the strings.

He's got the cops ready to section me.

The prime suspect is this kid I have blinded.

I buried my mother a couple of days ago.

Sorry for your trouble.

Thanks.

And 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?

You have your health.

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

So did I. Whatever.

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

Look him back over the time you've known him.

Is there any you can think of? Any incidents? Anything off-color?

It was after Isolde died, maybe a few months.

He was drunk. He cornered me in the college bar.

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

He was the first I knew he was aware of anything.

Our affair. He likes an ambush.

He said it wasn't my fault.

He said Isolde was like Deardre and the play,

a beauty who spread sorrow amongst men.

He said there were other women like that

and that 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 theater 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 are 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 realize that my role is off stage.

I was the dramatist.

Come on.

Come on, big girl.

How many more people do I have to identify?

What sort of a deal are you even offering?

You keep pouring, I'll say when.

We'll see.

Let's look at the college faculty.

Em, he was a regular.

Enough for himself. 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 "Dare Drop the Sorrows."

Alert no one that we are speaking and come directly to my home alone.

Is that clear?

You torture her, I'll kill you.

Oh, that's in the spirit of the piece.

Now, Kate Noonan, that's in the spirit of the piece.

Now, Kate has something to tell you.

We've lived too long, Nisha.

Kate, I'm coming for you.

Come on.

That hand, isn't it? A poor thing.

We should miss the safety of the grave.

And we're traveling its edge.

Kate, now listen.

Luke, don't come. It's a trap.

The part of a lifetime awaits.

Tell no one.

Fuck.

Detective Sergeant.

Not now.

It's important.

The dealer says he's identified another purchaser.

Not now.

He says he's bought enough to supply.

Sir.

I'll deal with it.

Kate Noonan.

Where's Kate Noonan?

I've got someone who will do a statement on Gordon.

The lecturer, Lawrence Doyle.

Gordon 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.

Hold him in a cell.

Come on.

Taylor, come back here.

Hold on.

Come back.

Kate!

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, you fucker.

What the fuck?

The professor said the medicine was messing with all his socks, Queen's Jack.

He said you owe me.

He said you had to pay.

Turn yourself in, Roland.

You promise me?

I will.

Promise me.

I will.

Sir.

Cody, it's Jack.

You were gifted with beauty, Kate.

And you used it only to spread sorrow and heartbreak.

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

And that is why you must die.

Come on.

Come on.

I've 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 have to say anything.

I 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.

No.

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

You mustn't.

You mustn't.

Don't do this.

Please stop.

He's still struggling with cause complications.

There's no one here to make a story that will

be shut off with a laughing stock the night he died.

Kate.

You okay, Kate?

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.

Thank.

Fine with you.

Kate, stay with me.

Stay with me.

Oh, stop it, Jack.

It's over.

Oh, 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 all right.

That's it.

That's it, Kate.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Keep breathing.

Keep breathing now.

That's it.

You're okay.

The DVD and the computer, it's relevant.

The DVD and the computer, it's relevant.

The DVD and the computer, it's relevant.

The DVD and the computer, it's relevant.

Garmin had it so wrong.

The sorrows aren't spread by headstrong beautiful

women like Deirdre, Rizalda, Sarah, Karen or Kate.

The sorrows are spread by bastards like him.

By bastards like me.

By bastards like me.

By bastards like me.