All language subtitles for Cme.S01E06.720p.WEBRip h264

It's your
dad's funeral tomorrow.

Were you and him close?

Tell me about him.

Your dad.

Football.

That was his first love.

1986, the day that
Hearts bottled it.

In Dens Park.

Me and Les were...

You and Les?

Aye.

It was the day before the match.

Give us a gam, then.
Don't be a fucking tease.

No.
- Why no?

You said you would. Come on.

I said no.
give us a gam.

You fucking lesbo.

Les.
- Fuck are you doing, man?

Sorry, what's a gam?

Fellatio.

What do you think made
him so aggressive?

Filled with shame, I suppose.

It's always the shame.

It will happen.

That time in the tunnel.

What tunnel?

You believe that violence
is fueled by shame?

Where else can it come from?

He changed.

Les.

Before, he was just a kid.

Playful,

happy.

Turned him into a bully.

These notepads seem popular.

I suppose so.

Where do you get them?

Probably some stationary
trade catalogue.

Almost everything I say or
do ends up in these pages.

- This tunnel. Is it something-
- No.

No, I can't talk
about that right now.

Another time, maybe, yeah?

It turned Les into a
bully. What about you?

What did you become?

A cop who has to
get back to work.

Is that all?

Les.

What are you fucking doing?

We all get glimpses.

Little fragments of memory,

indicating how a life
went up in flames.

Die, you bastard.

What's this we're getting now?

Does them compulsively.

50 pushups, 50 sit
ups. Rarely stops.

Fitness junkie.

Is he ex-forces?

No. Just the TA.

Classic finishing
school for inadequate perverts.

I used to be in the Terries.

Anyway, I've been going
through some old photies.

Turns out he's an ex-fat
boy. Obviously bullied.

Well, you can't
say that for sure.

No, no, no.

Fat boys are dead
either bully or bullied.

- Sole purpose.
- Thank you for that.

And then he's found some
exercise and diet plan,

raw meat, seeds, all that pish.

Just about the time the
bairns started to vanish.

What are you saying?

Well, I'm not
suggesting that the diet

turned him into a
nonce kidnapper,

but it's just a signifier
that he was getting ready

to wreak his revenge
on the world.

Revenge for what?

For being a fat prick.

Fat boys are aye fat inside.

It doesn't matter how
much coral reef they shit.

And I ken how to hurt fat boys.

Well, we've been
going through his laptop,

but so far, there's nothing.

Not even porn sites.

Well, that's concerning.

Sex offenders are
generally unimaginative.

I mean, if he's
constructing his scenarios

from an imaginative space,

then that's both novel
and it's worrying.

It's not possible
that anyone could do

all that meticulous planning
inside their head, is it?

Of course. The yellow notebooks.

It's in the yellow
notebooks. All the planning.

If we find them,

we find out what happened
to all those missing girls.

Lovely morning.

Are you feeling better?

I was a little under
the weather yesterday.

That's
putting it mildly.

Raymond Lennox, master
of the understatement.

The planning, the
dossiers you mentioned.

You've written it all
down, haven't you?

Where are they?

You'll find out soon enough.

But I assure you, I
am very meticulous.

Can you tell us where-

Sorry, DS Drummond,

but I'm not happy
talking to a lass,

unless I've got my
hands around her throat.

And then I become more

expansive.

DS Drummond leaving
the interview room.

Of course.

Are these the kind of games
you played with your ex-wife?

These are obviously
the kind of games

you play with your girlfriend.

How are you fixed for some
squash? Tomorrow lunchtime?

I've got a funeral tomorrow.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear
that. Anyone close?

Look, I know you
and Estelle are,

or rather were good friends.

You knew we were having, I
suppose you'd call it an affair.

Yeah, well,
at least Estelle

had the decency to resign,

which is exactly
what you should do.

You are a menace to every
single woman in this office.

Yeah, that's right.
You're a fucking pig.

- Arsehole.
You make our lives

a fucking misery.

Arsehole,
Mark. Dick, Mark.

You see this?

This is what happens when
you turn a blind eye.

Well done.

Can't tell
you how many times

he's made me uncomfortable.

The ex Mrs. Horsburgh.
Is she still around?

Yes, I'm suddenly.

She was interviewed
as soon as we got word

you'd arrested her.

All mundane stuff though.

Yeah, no kidding. Too
many unanswered questions.

Ken, can you fix it
for me to meet her?

Tricky.

Yeah, I'll check her out, Ray.

Thanks.

Amanda.

Amanda. Hey.

I was just wondering,

could you ask Ray if I could
come down to Leeds with you?

I just think it'd be a
really good experience.

I'm sorry, Stuart. Peter
Inglis is off sick,

so you're going to have
to work with the IT expert

on Confectioner's laptop.

Oh, okay.

Here she is now. Sophie.

Sophie, Stuart will
look after you.

Won't you?

Yeah.

- Hiya, Stuart.
- Hey.

Yeah, come with me, and
we'll get you settled in.

- Hi, Ray.
- Good, how are you doing?

I'm all right. And who's this?

DS Drummond. Amanda.

Ken Custer.

Feel free to get all the last
stand jokes out of the way.

Like I said, she is
prepared to meet,

but she ain't too
chuffed about it.

You may have to-

All right, Ken?

Hey, how'd your Tinder
date go last night?

Yeah, it went all
right, as it happens.

Seeing her again on Thursday.

So, we have the prospect
of a Custer-fuck? Yeah.

Battle of Little Bighorn.

I'll do the introductions,

and let you get on
with it, all right?

I divorced Gareth
Horsburgh three years ago.

We're strangers to each other
now. Probably always were.

How was it when
you were together?

What do you expect me to say?

He was a boring,
OCD civil servant.

There must have been something
about him in your eyes.

He wasn't my previous boyfriend,

who was an impulsive,
unstable drug addict.

So it was just a kind of
classic rebound scenario.

Did you instigate the split?

Yes.

How was he about it?

He was...

Yeah, he barely
batted an eyelid.

Actually, it was
very humiliating.

He even helped me pack.

What was your sex
life like together?

I have spoken about this.

We're sorry for the repetition,

but your husband
kidnapped and murdered

several, possibly many
girls and young women-

My ex husband of
nearly 20 years ago.

Just when the girls
started to go missing.

What kind of sex did he
like to have with you?

Describe it.

He liked it when I was on top.

Really?

A man whose prey profile is
younger, vulnerable women,

whose mentality is
stalk and take captive,

voluntarily cedes power
to a woman in that way?

You must be hard as nails.

No.

But he was always like
he was somewhere else.

Yeah, very distant.

You've met him.

Yes.

Why?

So you've seen how
he looks at women,

especially the pretty ones.

Did he have any
problems getting it up?

Any malformation?

[Flora Why is this relevant?

How a sex offender
approaches intercourse

can tell us a lot about his
crimes and his motivations.

This information could
become invaluable in court,

but before we even get there,

I need to charge
him with the deaths

of what I estimate to be
at least 15 young lassies.

15?

You were admitted to hospital
on November the 3rd, 2006,

February the 23rd, 2007,

with injuries consistent
with strangulation.

Marks to your neck,
eyelids haemorrhaged.

You said to police
then that he liked

to practise
auto-asphyxiation on you.

It was the only way that, you
know, would make him hard.

I didn't realise that he would.

Oh, there was a young guy
hanging around the stair.

I'm off duty, and that's
not my department.

But he was looking
through your letterbox.

I didn't see much else.
He had a hat and a hoodie.

Stu, Sophie.

What's happening? Did you
find anything on the laptop?

There's nothing on it, Ray.

No notes, no pictures,

no indication that
anything has been erased.

Must be a second
laptop, or a den with a PC.

Stu.

Thanks guys.

You're barra.

See you tomorrow.

Sure.

Ray.

Can I ask you something?

Aye. About that new
lassie, eh? Sophie.

No.

Right, well, aye.

How did you know?

Well, I mean, she's
fit as a butcher's dog,

and you're a young
guy with a pulse,

and we're detectives.

It's just, I am...

You've had a lot of
experience with women, right?

Well, I've had enough
serious relationships,

and a few flings.

You know,

I just get so shy when I'm
around someone I really like.

Right.

You must think I'm weird.

As you know, there's
many paths up a mountain,

and maybe you're
over-thinking things.

Listen, I know this isn't
what you want to hear,

but having a girlfriend
isn't the be-all and end-all,

let me tell you.

Just be yourself.

Right.

It's his funeral
this afternoon.

He was ill for so long,

it was like he was already
in the spirit world.

You mentioned Dundee last time.

Football match.

Aye.

May, 1986.

I was with my mates.

Hearts had gone 27
games undefeated,

and now, on the very
last day of the season,

we were playing for the
championship in Dundee.

I mean, all we needed
was to not lose.

In fact, we could even
afford an hour loss

and still lift a flag.

I suddenly felt guilty I
wasn't there with my dad.

All those games he'd
taken me to as a kid.

It was meant to be the
coronation of champions,

but it all fell apart.

Dundee scored twice in
the last seven minutes.

Albert Kidd.

Albert Kidd.

My dad couldn't take it.

I didn't even see him fall.
Laid out on the bench.

I thought he was dead.

It really was one
of those things

that'll never be the same again.

My dad went from being
the big, strong man

who worked on the
railways to frail, scared,

and old.

In a few minutes,
the world changed.

What did you mean?

It was a moment,
like the crushing

and the striking miners,

but the British state.

Rangers and Celtic
had been challenged,

but Aberdeen and Dundee
United, and now Hearts.

They'd spend to ensure
that never happened again.

The flag was now
purely to be purchased,

with no clubs outside of Glasgow
having the cash to do this.

So, it was emblematic
of the primacy

of money over everything.

Aye.

The neoliberal order.

Football, music,
politics, and people.

All just commodities
to be bought and sold.

And I've been very busy since.

You seem to strongly identify

with the victims
of sexual abuse.

What's my job?

Is it not your job to
append the perpetrators

of sex abuse?

Aye.

They aren't
the same thing.

Don't get me wrong, I'm
not judging you negatively

for caring.

Why do you do your job?

I have boundaries in my role,

like you do in yours.

That's our hour done.

Yeah.

I should say goodbye to Dad.

Hello.

What are you doing here?

I've got a new job.
Here in Old Ricky.

That I'd pop by.

Great.

How do you know where I live?

I just asked around.

Asked around. Who'd
you ask around, Keith?

I thought we might...

Yeah, I'm not that
person anymore.

I think you owe me a
conversation, at least.

You can't just
forget it, Amanda.

Don't push me, Keith.

Leave Edinburgh.
Leave your new job.

Come near me again,
and I will fuck you up.

I will fucking kill
you. Do you hear me?

I will fucking kill you.

Hello, Ray. My wee brother.

You know, I've
always loved you. Oh.

Oh.

Come in.

No, no, I'm just going to...

I'm just going to
go for a wander.

Why?

At least come and
say hello to Mom.

I just need a
bit of time alone, eh?

Ray. My poor, wee
darling, Raymondo.

It's okay, pal. It's okay.

I'll see you later, eh?

Here, if you're going
to exit the freak show,

at least give us a
fucking head's up

so I can join you, eh?

I'll have what he's got.

Thought you were AA.

NA. It's AA minus God,
with more creative types.

My branch was full
of old jakeballs

who literally had nothing
in their life bar peeve.

I mean, why wouldn't
you get wrecked?

So, how goes?

Do you ever get the
feeling everything in life

is totally and
irredeemably fucked?

Every time a casting
director tells me,

"Sorry, you're not quite
right for us, pal."

So yeah, about
three times a week.

Cheers.

Aye.

- Fancy a wee line of ching?
- Fancy a wee line of ching?

Clearing out Dad's
house was embarrassing.

Found Dad's porn stash.

Thing is, poor old fucker
was probably using the porn

to try to get a hoot,

only he told me he wasn't
able to get it up for years.

That's beyond
shit. Poor bastard.

I mean, my cock just
wouldn't feel right

without an orifice of some
description wrapped around it.

We'd better mash.

Relax.

My mate's a driver.

He'll take us straight
there. I'll give him a call.

But we should go with the
official cars though, eh?

Oh, fuck that boring,
ceremonial shite, all right?

I reserve the right
to mourn my way,

rather than through conventions

deemed acceptable by society.

Aye.

Nice.

Where are they?

Where are my boys?

They're on their way.
Stuart just texted.

Here's Les. You mind
a raise, old pal?

All right, Jackie? Mrs. Lennox.

Where's Raymie?

I wish I knew,
Les. I wish I knew.

Why don't we take you inside?

All right?

Huh?

We're cool. This shit's good.

Got it from the big man.

Fuck me, you're
an annoying little cunt.

But I love you.

Fuck me.

Oh.

Are you two doing cocaine?

The Trudemeister.
Fancy a wee bump?

No.

Welcome.

We are gathered here
to mourn the passing

of John McNeil Lennox,

loving husband of Avril,

father of Jacqueline,
Raymond and Stuart.

Granddad of Fraser and Murdo.

John was a family man,

who knew that family
and close relationships

were harbours of
trust and loyalty,

essential sanctuaries in
a cruel, turbulent sea

of lies and treachery.

Uncle Jock's
just using the toilet.

All right, Ma.

Fuck.

Fuck's sake, Ray.

Thanks for leaving me
to talk to every wanker,

rattled out of my nut on coke.

What's going on with you?

Are you not going
to talk to Mom?

Keep her the fuck away from me.

Huh? What?

Raymond. Listen, I-

- Ray.
- Trudi.

Fuck's going on with
you and your Mom?

It's your dad's funeral.

Exactly.

She kens. What youse even
doing here, you sick bastard?

What the
fuck is going on?

That's our Ma and
Da's best mate.

I ken who the
fucking creeps are.

Eh, you still using the
toilet, Uncle Jock, eh?

Eh?

Ray.

I'll go. You see your Ma, eh?

It's all down to me.

Mind when I got
huckled down Haymarket nick

for rowing at Tyney?

That was excruciating.

My mate pulled for
a football pagger.

Aye, you ended up a cop.
Me, a football thug.

Definitely got the
worst of that deal.

You have to let this go.

The tunnel.

I mean, you had
it worse than me,

but can't get past it.

It fucked me up for years, Ray.

They left it all the
time at football.

The reason I became a cop
was to find those bastards.

I wanted access to the
sex offenders databases.

I've been scouring the
mugshots for years.

- Did you find them?
- No.

It's like he varnished
into thin air.

I haven't found them.

I'm stuck.

How do you get past it?

By investing in something
that means more to me

than my own life, huh?

You got a nice girl back there.

Let it go.

Come on, mate.

Come back, huh?

Come back.

Just give me a few minutes, eh?

Aye.

Ray, Ray.

Raymie, for
fuck's sake, man.

Need to get help
with your horse.

Oh, baby, what have you done?

Right,

okay?

Hey.

You need to take one
of these for the pain,

one of these for the anxiety.

- I need to go to work.
- No.

There you go.

There you go. All you need
to do now is go to sleep.

Confectioner, he...

He never asked me.

He never-

Asked you what?

Why. Asked me why.

You just need to sleep, Ray.

We can talk about it all later.

They got me.

I mean, not like they
got Les, but they got me.

I got away.

They got me.

Where's Lennox?

On leave.

First he was away,
now it's leave.

I didn't think I'd
break him so soon.

It's bereavement leave.

Oh, oh dear.

It must be somebody close if
he's forgoing our little bouts.

So, you
have no knowledge

of where you were on
April the 5th, 2011,

when Claire Gorman vanished.

First, they
send in a green young man

who needs a good feed and
a bit of a rumpy pumpy,

and now they expect
me to tell all

to an irrelevant bulldyke.

You have no
recollection of where you were

on the 5th of April, 2011?

Does this ring any
bells? Claire Gorman.

She was strangled
with her own tights.

Does it give you ideas

for your lesbo group activities?

Look at it.

Claire Gorman.

She was a living,
breathing human being.

You look at it and
tell me, and be honest.

Would you fuck her? Eh?

Masturbation injury?

Oh, sorry, you're probably
not in the mood for jokes

right now, are you?

A funeral, I'm hearing.

I'm sure you wish me as
little distress as possible.

Where are the yellow notepads?

I have to confess.

To being a little hurt.

Really? Why?

Because you missed my
first starring appearance

on CCTV camera,

in Edinburgh.

Did I?

Do you hear that, DS Drummond?

That's the sound of your
partner squirming inside.

Is that what you hear, aye?

Sticks out a mile.

Your sinuses are jammed,
probably with cocaine.

The hangover fear is
crushing your bones,

and your piano wire nerves are
stretched to breaking point.

You need days of sleep.

How did I miss your first
starring appearance on CCTV?

The night before I took her,

when she went with
her mam and her sister

to that grotty fast food place.

Yeah, so what?

Well, it were easy
to distract them.

Tess were out
of action the next day.

All right,
darling. Okay, sweetheart?

So guess who
got to walk to school

on her own the
following morning?

Shabby police work, Lennox.

Not thinking to check
the CCTV footage

from night before
her disappearance?

What kind of avenging
angel are you?

Why Britney? Why did
it have to be her?

She was
of no consequence.

If it weren't her, it would
have been somebody else.

I think that we've both
experienced a darkness,

that's consumed us.

I think it defines
our lives, you and me.

No.

Once the beast gets his
claws into you, that's it.

Game over.

You burn with shame.

We are the same.

We just have different
coping mechanisms.

I can smell it off you.

Your wretched,
rotten, vile stench.

Got it all worked
out, haven't you? Huh?

Eh?

You've even got
your wee philosophy

to justify your crimes, eh?

You replay it in your
mind over and over.

Do you fantasise about
your abuser? Hmm?

Don't tell me you don't get
that twinge in your balls,

and feel the blood
surging to your cock.

And so, you have to obliterate
the memory don't you?

With drink and drugs and crime.

Is that what you think?

It's what I know.

And so do you.

I know what you want.

- What do I want?
- You want freedom.

You want the beast to let go.

You're living a
half life, Lennox.

Searching for salvation.

There's no joy
for you, is there,

when you're pumping your
girlfriend. Trudi, is it?

You're not really there.

Are you? Are you?

You're back with him,
feeling his touch on you.

And that's what gets
you off, isn't it?

I'm not you.

Men like us, Ray,

we live in shame.

We're not the same.

The only way-

Ray.

To deal with it,
is to seize back control.

Face it, face the beast.

Come on. Come on.

Let it go. Just let it go.

That's it, that's it.
Just feel the shame, Ray.

Wallow in it.
Wallow in it. Go on.

Let it take over you.
That's it, that's it.

That's it.

Once the beast's got his
claw in you, you're dead.

You look alive, but you might
as well be six feet under, eh?

Floating there forever.

Buried alive.

Little Francesca Allen.

Did you know it was her
birthday when I took her?

Of course you did.

She still had

frosting on her lips.

She's out at Moseley Bog.

Allison Sturbridge.

She's at the bottom
of Egerton Quarry.

You killed them?

Course I did. I killed them all.

Noula Andrews, Stacy
Earnshaw, Britney Hamil,

Claire Gorman, Hazel Lloyd.

There were 15 in total.

But at least I set them free.

I might have kidnapped
their bodies, but

I set their souls free.

I didn't keep them alive

so they could suffer the
shame and the indignity

that you go through
every fucking day.

You know, you're wrong.

All the shit in your head.

In my head and the heads

of everyone out there,

doesn't matter a fuck.

Only weak fools succumb
to negative impulses.

The only thing that
matters is how you behave,

and the choices that you make,

and you have made

weakling's choices, Gareth.

And now you're about to face
the consequences of those.

You're on, Dougie.

We're deep in stoppage time.

You two get to fuck.

You can't. We're meant
to be the good guys.

You're watching
real police work.

I want my lawyer.

Fuck off.

I'll give you a fucking lawyer.

Britney Hamil, though?

This is your fucking lawyer.

We have to
put a stop to this.

Die, bastard.

Nice work, Ray.

Now you go home.

I tried, Bob.

I tried to save those lassies.

Not another word.

Bastard.

You're on leave
until further notice.

Now go.

Is everything okay?

No. But better than
it could be, eh?

Once you've stared evil in the
face, there's no coming back.

You're standing in darkness
and the walls close in.

Those walls of terror.