All language subtitles for The Beast Must Die 1x05 - Episode 5 (English)

Are you afraid?

Don't be silly.

They're the ones
that should be scared.

You could thrash every single
one of them if you wanted to.

Arundel House!

Bodiam House!

Come on, let go of my hand.
You'll be Ok.

- Pevensey House!
- Pevensey. That's you.

- Pocket money.
- Dover House!

George!

Did you get hold of his doctor?

No recent consultation.
No underlying health conditions.

Ok. Tell control
we've got an unexplained death

and let the coroner's office know.

What about the painkillers?

- His wife said he had a bad shoulder.
- Whiplash?

She didn't know.

And guess what? They found
his Mercedes at Branstone Lodge.

Fucking timing.

Yeah.

Thanks, Asha.

They're, er, ready to move him.

Before they can do that,
we need a formal identification.

Why are you here?

George's death was unexpected,
and at the moment, unexplained.

- So there's certain procedures we...
- That's not what I'm asking.

Is there somewhere else we can
have a chat? The kitchen maybe?

It's not his house to be giving us
orders. Why are you here?

To question George about the death
of a child in a hit-and-run.

And to search the house
for anything linking him

to the vehicle involved or the place
where that vehicle was left.

On what grounds?

I understand this might be painful,

but still,
we need to search the house.

- You have no right!
- I'm sorry, I don't understand.

What child?

His name was Martie.

He was six years old and the driver
who hit him didn't stop.

- We'll be as quick as we can.
- No.

Yes. Yes. You make it sound like
you think George did it.

There's, um...

something else you should know.

You had a woman staying here
with you recently.

Frances?

She was Martie's mother.

We're gonna need that
identification now, please.

That is my husband, George Rattery.

All right?

Here...

Let's find somewhere to sit down
and have a chat, shall we?

We were involved,
I wanted to finish it.

He picked me up from this car show
I was working at.

I drank too much.

We argued.

And then I fell asleep in the car.

I woke up when my head
hit the dashboard. I didn't see.

I knew he'd hit something.

George said it was nothing -
a pothole.

- And you believed him?
- Mostly.

At first.

Then I read about that little boy.

I...

Some days I'd wake up
and think he was telling the truth.

Other days...

Some days I thought, "What if...?"

Did you know about Frances Cairnes?

Her name's Lane. Frances Lane.

But did you know
that she was the boy's mother?

George told me last night.

I was going to come
and talk to you.

I'll get someone at the station
to take your statement.

If you'd like a solicitor present,
then...

I don't need a solicitor.

The only person that can
contradict your story is dead.

Some people
might call that convenient.

It was George.

- Did he ever let you drive?
- No!

Sit in the driver's seat,
even just for fun?

No.

Good.

Hey, tell them I want prints and DNA
as well as the statement, please.

Sir, we've got everyone's
statements about yesterday -

they're all saying the same thing.

Rattery got home mid-afternoon
and never went out again.

Before that,

he was out on his yacht
with Frances Cairnes.

What happened yesterday?

You know what happened yesterday.

I know what happened after they
pulled you out of the sea.

I'm talking about before.

I tried to kill George.

I thought you knew that. I thought
that's why you were asking.

Kill George how?

On the yacht.

I was going to let the boom
take him overboard...

..and watch him drown.

If he didn't tell you,
why are you here?

What stopped you?

He worked out who I was.

He had a photo of Martie
on his phone.

He showed me.

After that, I couldn't...
I didn't get close.

That's... why you walked
into the sea.

What about today?

How do you feel today?

It's over.

Not for you, of course.

You want justice,
right?

Due process.

I just wanted him dead.

What happens now?

George Rattery is dead.

Took a nap in his office.
Didn't wake up.

They found him this morning.

Oh.

Oh.

She admitted
she wanted to kill him?

Wanted to. Planned to.
Never had a chance.

- Do we have his phone?
- Yes, sir.

See if we can get in touch
with his service provider.

We need a list
of all calls since Easter.

Priority is yesterday
and the hours after Martie's death.

What else did we get
from the house?

Vehicle papers, no car keys,
and a lot of painkillers.

Did she know
where he dumped the car?

He put her in a taxi after
the incident. We followed up.

The story checks out.

Sir, are we treating this death as
suspicious now or just unexplained?

- Procedure's the same either way.
- Yeah, but what are we thinking?

We're thinking we need
the results of that postmortem.

Where have you been?

The police wanted to speak to me.

About your fight with George?
Oh, I heard you.

- And I wasn't the only one.
- Yes. About my fight with George.

It's your fault,
what they're saying about him.

You're the one
who brought her here.

You sound just like him.

Is that a threat?

"You're talking like George
and look what happened to him"?

Are you serious?

I should never have let you
through that door,

you needy little limpet looking
for something to suck onto.

God knows how he stayed
interested as long as he did.

- I get bored just looking at you.
- Then close your fucking eyes.

- People don't just die!
- Yes, they do! They die all the time.

My mum, Frances's little boy...
That's just what happens.

Not to George. Not to George.

This didn't just happen.

Somebody did this.

One of you did this!

He, er...

He hit here...

..and bounced onto the bonnet...

..onto the roof...

..and then...

..onto the road.

What about the prints
and DNA we sent you?

Got her prints all over
the passenger side door, window,

vanity mirror...

- What about the driver's side?
- It's been cleaned.

But whoever did it
forgot to adjust the seat.

It's positioned for someone
around the six-foot mark.

Well, she could have done that.

Got something else
on the passenger side too.

- Yeah?
- Blood, on the dashboard.

I'll get it checked,

but I'll bet you a pound to a penny
it's your girl's.

She wasn't driving. He was.

All right, thanks.

I spoke to the nurse.

She thinks they're gonna
discharge you tomorrow.

I'm gonna need you to come in
and make a statement, if that's Ok.

- What about the car?
- It'll be gone by then.

We have testimony
that George was driving.

And the forensics back it up.

Can I see it?

The car didn't kill him,
the driver did.

The car was just a thing.
The last thing.

The last thing that touched him.

Sometimes he's very close to me.

Certain places.

Certain moments.

Certain things.

He's actually there.

It's like I live
in two worlds at once.

Mine, where he's still here.

And yours, where he's gone.

I don't suppose you get to choose
where you put yourself in that.

Which world did
wanting to kill George belong to?

I don't know.

Lena, is it?

- Hi.
- Nicky the gardener.

Yeah.

I thought you were
supposed to be locked up.

Nah. Not-Not yet.

My solicitor got the case adjourned
for reports into my background.

So, how you doing, eh?

- I heard about George.
- Did you now?

Came out of nowhere, didn't it?

You must not know
whether to laugh or cry.

- Oh, come on...
- Come on, what?

He screwed us both.
Just in different ways.

Still...

..a big tree falling and all that,

ought to make
a bit of a fucking noise.

Yeah.

- Where's your room?
- I've got somewhere better.

12 minutes after Martie Cairnes
was knocked down and killed,

a call was made from your
brother's mobile to this number.

Is that yours?

George and I spoke all the time.

Yes, but on this
particular occasion,

do you happen to remember
what he wanted?

No.

A favour, maybe.

A key... to a construction site.

I'm not answering any more
questions without a solicitor.

- You knew, didn't you?
- I'm not answering these questions.

You knew exactly what he'd done.

I am not answering because you are
not asking the right questions.

Ask why a man who never knew
a day's weakness in his life

would go to sleep one night
and never wake up.

Ask where he's gone.
Ask me what I do now.

Ask the questions that matter,
or don't ask at all.

A woman lost her son.

Did you just choose
not to think about it?

Every man is some woman's son.

George might as well
have been mine.

But men like George
don't count any more, do they?

They're too successful.
Too privileged.

Wrong side of history.

Gonna need you to stay
on the island and stay contactable.

Just until things settle down.

George threw my phone in the sea.

I don't have a purse either.

Ok, well, we can contact your bank
from the station.

Before the station there's
something I'd like to do. Please.

My friend Saima, from school.

That woman would laminate anything.

Is Martie here?

No.

But I wanted to see all this,
so that's good.

Your husband used to sail,
didn't he?

Frances Lane. I looked you up.

That must have been hard.

Such a public death.

It was a circus.

"Hero yachtsman loses life
saving trans-Atlantic rival."

I was still pregnant.

The press couldn't get
enough of it.

Have you ever lost anyone?

Not that mattered... to me.

There aren't that many people
that do.

- Your niece?
- Yeah.

- And her mum - my sister, Kate.
- But that's it?

That must be strange.

Living life just for yourself.

You must wonder what you're for.

Public service.

After I've given my statement, I'd
like to go and collect my things.

From the house.

We can send someone round
to do that.

No.

I'd like to go myself.

What if he's not there either?

Then at least I'll have
a change of clothes.

Ok. We'll get someone
to drop you off.

Your purse, the one you said
you don't have any more,

was it in your rucksack?

I read the witness statements,

said you walked into the sea
with a rucksack on your back.

When the coastguard pulled you out,
you didn't have it on any more.

Yeah. I wanted it to weigh me down.

But it got too heavy, too quickly.

I panicked, so I-I let it go.

Maybe tell the bank that
you left your purse on the beach.

Fewer questions.

Marta? I've made an appointment
with the undertaker. I...

That's better.

Where's Vi?

I don't know what else
you've had in your mouth.

Yes, you do.

You mad fucking bitch!

Get out. Get out.
Get out. Get out. Get out!

Get her out of my sight
and get her out of this house.

It's not even your house!
It's her house now.

She can do what she bloody wants.
Maybe she'll throw you out...

Maybe it'll just be me and her
and you can go fuck yourself!

The two of you, here, raising
George's son? I don't think so.

He's my son too.

And you've never in your life
known how to look after him.

Leave her the fuck alone!

Oh, sisterly loyalty, from you?
God almighty.

I am not leaving George's legacy in
the hands of a hysteric and a slut.

And I will not yield you this house,
and I will not let you have Phil.

All you do is damage.
I hate you, do you know that?

No, no, no!

Just go. Just go. Just get out.
You're making things worse.

Let go of me.

Frances! Stop!

Stop! Wait!

Stop!

Stop. Stop. Stop.

Stop! Stop!

Stop!

Hello, darling, how can I help?

I need to speak to
Detective Strangeways.

Can I say what it's about?

I killed my dad.

I'll just get someone.

Mrs Violet?

You want to eat?

No.

I'm fine, thank you.

I made garlic soup.

It's good for your health.
Good for everything.

My laptop's missing.

There was a house search,
they might have picked it up then.

There's a photo on it.

I'll find out what happened to it.

Just grab what you need,
we'll pick you up a phone

and then we'll get you
set up in a hotel, Ok?

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Be with you in a minute.

O'Brien?

Have you come to offer
your condolences?

No.

You made this happen, didn't you?

You stirred this up.

Look at you.

You're barely even a person,
you're just a husk.

I don't know
why I didn't see it before.

I hope he haunts you
for the rest of your days.

But he won't.

The dead never come back.

They're gone.
They are so completely gone.

Violet?

Oh, God.

Look at the place!
What were you thinking?

- Are you even listening to me?
- Yes, I'm listening.

This isn't gonna work.

- What do you mean?
- This. You.

Well, it's just...
It's just furniture, Joy.

Furniture!

There's a house to keep,
there's a business to run,

there's a child to raise.

You could barely cope
when George was alive.

What are you gonna do
now he's gone?

Learn.

Learn how? Look at you!

I mean, you're like a child
with a box of matches.

You'd burn the house down
if you were left alone.

Well, I know what George would say
if he were here.

Same thing he said
when Phil was born.

"Step in, will you, Joy?

"Just for a while, just while
she gets herself together."

I'll call the lawyer in the morning.
We'll sort something out.

No. No. You do not
need to do that. I'll be fine.

No, Violet. You won't.
You really, really won't.

Help me clear up this mess.

Marta!

This is DI Strangeways.
I will be conducting the interview.

If we could all state our name
for the record, please.

Corinne West, Deepwood Solicitors.

Keith Whelan, Social Services,
Acting Appropriate Adult.

Phillip Rattery.

As it's not usual for a DI to be
present at an interview like this,

I need to clarify for the record
that I'm here at your request, Phil,

and with the agreement
of your solicitor, Ms West,

- and Mr Whelan. Is that correct?
- Yes.

So, Phil...

..tell me about your dad.

I killed him.

Yesterday.

Well, I didn't kill him yesterday.

I killed him the day before,
but he died yesterday.

And was that your intention,
to kill your dad?

Yes.
He was being shitty to my mum.

- In what way shitty?
- Telling lies.

Having sex with other people.
Having sex with her sister.

Is that even legal?

I used to think about
killing my dad.

I wouldn't have known how though.

- How did you do it?
- Painkillers.

I like to steal stuff.

I stole the knife
because I wanted to stab him.

But, um... after I did some
research for Frances's crime book -

I thought that, um,
poison might be easier.

So I stole some of his tramadol.

Ok, we can talk about that.

Before we do, tell me more
about you and Frances.

You mentioned a crime book.

Well, Frances was gonna be
my summer tutor

and I thought I could use that time
by helping her research it.

It's written from the prospective
of the murderer.

You've got to think ahead.
You've always got to have a plan.

For the purposes of the tape,

PCSO Asha James has entered
the room and handed me a note.

Er, I'd like to take a break there.
Interview paused at 18:03.

'What a waste of fucking time.'

Overdose of tramadol, though.
It's what the kid was saying.

It's what anybody who'd been
in the house would be saying.

There's tramadol
in every bloody drawer.

"Whether intentional or accidental
is impossible to infer

"given the deceased's
blood alcohol levels

"and reports that he routinely
exceeded the prescribed dose."

Well, they're certainly
sitting on the fence.

What makes you so sure that
the kid's not telling the truth?

What... What is
Rattery's prescribed dose?

'I put them
in a gin and tonic.'

What, all of them?

- What time was this?
- Three o'clock. Maybe four.

What happened then?

Nothing. Until he went
into to his office after supper.

Right.

Phil, did you kill your dad?

You know, before making a false
confession, you should have checked

how much tramadol someone can take
without just collapsing.

Did you kill your dad?

Phil?

I need you to speak up
for the tape, please.

No.

Why did you tell us you did?

So, you wouldn't believe Aunty Joy
about mum.

Phil, I don't think you need
to worry about your mum, Ok?

Someone'll take you home after
we've done the paperwork, all right?

Hello?

The police just called.

Phil's at the station.

They're bringing him home now.

Well, that does rather
prove my point.

I think you'd be happier
somewhere else, Joy.

I think we'd be happier,
me and Phil,

if you didn't live here any more.

- But I...
- It's my house.

You will be happier.

Frances was here earlier.

I hid.

I always hide
when things are difficult.

I hid from you and George.

If I'd known about
Frances's little boy, I...

..I might have hidden
from that too. But I...

..I hope not.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

I should've stopped him.

I should've stopped you.

- What are you doing?
- Well, I'm trying to move it.

George bought it
and I've always hated it.

I don't know
what I'm gonna do on my own.

Mummy!

It's all right, sweetheart.
It's going to be all right.

- Hello.
- 'Er, this is Saima Majani.'

We met at Frances Cairnes's flat.

Yeah, hi.

'I'm sorry to be calling
so early in the morning,

'but Frances just called me
and basically...'

She's asked me to go to the flat to
check and see if Martie was there.

'She wasn't making any sense,
but she was so distressed

'and I'm really worried.'

Ok, um...

What number did she call you from?

- Can you text it to this phone?
- 'I didn't recognise it.

'It's not her number, but it's
on my phone, I can send it to you.'

Ok. Yeah, text it to me.
Ok. All right. All right.

'Ok, I'll do it now.'

- 'Hello?'
- Yeah, hi. Has Frances left her room?

Well, not while we've been here.

Has she left the room?

- You didn't see her go, did you?
- No.

Ok. Did you check to see whether
she was there in the first place?

Well, the light's on.

'That doesn't mean anything,
it could've been on all night.'

Ah, Jesus Christ.

Frances?

Is he here?

He isn't anywhere any more.

I was just thinking
about how beautiful it'll be

out there right now...

..with the sun coming up.

And the wind.

If you could sail anywhere
right now, where would you go?

I can't sail at all.

If someone else was taking you.

If was taking you.

Phil talked to me yesterday.

He mentioned you two
sailing together.

It seemed to make him very happy.

- Is he all right?
- He told us he'd murdered his father.

We didn't believe him.

So, come on.
If you could sail anywhere?

- I don't know. You?
- Back.

But I'd settle for out there.

Look at it.
I love it from the sea.

That's why I kept bringing
Martie back here.

You know, half that island
runs a rust bucket car

so they can keep
a boat on the water.

That's how good it feels.

What if we'd never come?
What if we'd been a minute later?

What if I'd never learned to sail?
What if?

You can unpick
a whole life that way.

I'm sorry...
that you've lost Martie.

That you can't feel him any more.

I think it's just he doesn't
want to be near me any more.

Because of what you'd done?

I got your bloods
from the hospital.

Couldn't see how you'd get him to
take it without taking it yourself.

That's what was in the rucksack.

That's why you wanted
to get rid of it.

I put it in the brandy.
In a hip flask.

I knew he'd take more
when he got home. He always did.

I checked the dosages online.

What did you think
was gonna happen afterwards?

I thought things
would be different.

I thought I'd feel... different.

You know,
the first time I met you...

..I couldn't...

I couldn't figure out
what was keeping you on your feet.

I thought,
"She's got all the answers I need."

I wish I'd thought a bit harder.

Was it always gonna be tramadol?

Phil's gonna need help
making sense of this, you know?

They all are.

I was gonna drown him
and make it look like an accident.

But when you found out who I was...

I'm sorry.

But I don't think that's gonna
help Phil understand anything.

That thing you said, about...

..Martie not wanting
to be near you.

I don't think that's how it works
with your parents.

In fact, I know it's not.

When you thought
I had all the answers...

..why were you looking?

Someone got shot.

Someone important?

Not to me.

They were to someone
who could be, though.

I just, er...

I don't really know how to do that.

That's not a skill you acquire.

That's a decision you take.

Seriously.

If you're not gonna risk
having people in your life

that you can't bear to lose...

..what's the point?

I'm not the one
you should be feeling sorry for.

I have had so much love in my life.

So much love.

Swim!

Swim!

You don't have to say anything.

I've got three months off work.

- Really?
- That's what I asked for.

Perhaps I should
have asked for six.

What would you like to do?

I don't know.

Sleep, maybe.

I seem to be tired
all the time at the moment.

That sounds like grief.