All language subtitles for Rebus - 02x01

(PHONE RINGS)

(ANSWER MACHINE BEEPS)

,I. Inspector, this is DS Clarke.
,I. We met yesterday., /I.

,I. Your mobile's off and this is urgent.
,I. I've arranged a car for you., /I.

,I. Um, he's waiting downstairs.
,I. I'll see you there., /I.

Good result for the Jambos... sir!

,I. DS to Alpha 011. Go ahead. Over., /I.

Sir.

DS Clarke...

- What have you got for me today?
- Something a bit exotic, sir.

No, thank you.

- His name's Dr Joseph Devlin.
- I know.

Oh.

His housekeeper found him.

Dr Devlin runs or ran the maternity unit
at Templemount private hospital.

Ran - he's retired.

He certainly is!

Whoever did it opened his veins
and let him bleed to death.

- He had a wife who helped out at the clinic.
- Died three years ago.

I haven't looked at that, Inspector.

The housekeeper prepared a meal
for the doctor and a guest last night.

Do we know with whom the good doctor
shared his final repast?

Sir James Hogarth.

One of the wealthiest men in Edinburgh.

A private banker.

- The super-rich usually are.
- What?

Private bankers.
That is rhyming slang, isn't it?

No, that's what he actually does.
He's a private banker.

Oh.

I want to see that... as soon as.

Of course, sir.

,I. He has to be a psycho, right? /I.

This guy's definitely come under "C".
"C" for "crazy".

- Early thoughts?
- Devlin ran a maternity unit.

The killer left a coffin
with a baby's effigy inside it.

Did Devlin also carry out
pregnancy terminations?

Was the killer a pro-lifer who had
suddenly become selectively pro-life?

Infant mortality has to be another, right?

Devlin must have had his fair share
of dead babies.

Maybe we have a parent
who blames Devlin for their loss.

Possible.

No harm in examining
our possibilities, though.

Especially when it's all we've got.

Where are you going?

Oh, just out.

There were 17 of these found,
1830-something.

That's all that's left.

Nobody knows what they're for.

And I was wondering
if the killer used this for inspiration.

And you felt you had to wonder on your own?

Mea culpa.

But I could've left my phone off
and you'd never have tracked me down.

And I wanted to get a head start.

Why?

That is Miranda Masterson.

She's a curator here and she and I
are having an on-off relationship

which is currently off and I want on.

So, I thought I'd kill two birds
with one stone,

refresh my memory on these coffins
and get Miranda back into my bed.

I think you'll agree that is something
which is best done on a one-to-one basis?

Her and you?

I admit she's a little on the young side,
but she makes up for it in other ways.

She has wit and charm and a profound love
of Hibernian Football Club.

- It's done. Aromatherapy session cancelled.
- Well, maybe not.

Drinks at the Oxford? 8.15?

Yeah, and one minute late and it's a red card
for you and a taxi home for me.

Understood.

Has anybody been showing
more than a casual interest in these?

I've no idea. Why?

I rather hoped that they had.

- Philippa!
...Bye.

Philippa Balfour. She's a student
with us on work experience.

- Hello.
- DS Clarke, police.

Have you noticed anyone paying
close attention to this exhibit?

No. I mean, it's popular, but most people
stand for a minute and move on.

- No-one's asked you any questions about it?
- No, I don't think so.

- Is something wrong?
- I don't know. Thank you.

8.15.

You know, I still can't believe it.
A woman like that?

What? Being a Hibby? I know.
She looks more "rugby", don't you think?

I wasn't talking about her football
allegiance, though that's bizarre enough!

Ah, it's the age question.
So what's so special about younger men?

They tend to have flat stomachs
and breasts that are smaller than my own.

- That is disappointingly shallow, Sergeant.
- I can get even shallower.

- Hey!
- Watch where you're going, Mr Magoo!

Mr Magoo? Me?

Sir James...

Mrs Kollross.

Well, I simply can't take it in.

Can you tell us about last night, Sir James?

I, uh... I dined with Joe
and we discussed his finances.

He was a customer of Hogarth's,
as well as a friend.

And then... about 11,
I called a cab and I came home.

When you left,
did you notice anything out of the ordinary,

anyone hanging around the house?

No. No, I didn't.

Nothing at all unusual last night?

No.

Can you think of anyone
who'd wish to harm Dr Devlin?

- Someone he mentioned?
- No.

Couldn't it be an opportunist crime,
a robbery?

No. It was deliberate and planned.

- In what way?
- We can't say.

- Can't say, won't say?
- Won't... for now.

She's good, isn't she?

We've just become a team.
She's sort of Robin to my Batman.

Thank you, Sir James.

Mrs Kollross. It is still Mrs Kollross, isn't it?

It is. Is it still Inspector?

I'd have thought a man of your age,
Chief Superintendent, surely?

- The face doesn't fit.
- Perhaps your lack of progress

- is more to do with misplaced levity, Batman.
- Maybe you're right.

It's what we call gallows humour, a sort of
defence mechanism used by most policemen,

given the horrible things we see
and dubious people we meet.

- Really?
- Really.

Thanks for your help.

Sorry, Daddy.

What?

You clearly have a history with those people.

Uh-huh.

- This is very impressive, Mr Mayes.
- What is?

Every child mortality going back to 1978.

Well, I like to be thorough.
And the information is all on computer now.

Did Dr Devlin perform abortions?

He would have, yes.

- Would you know if he ever received threats?
- From extreme pro-life groups?

- Or a parent on the list?
- If he was threatened, I'm not aware of it.

You should ask my predecessor, Miss Currie.

She was admin officer here since...
well, the beginning of time, I think.

- Thank you, Mr Mayes.
- My pleasure.

Anything catch your eye?

- Ghosts.
- Ghosts?

"Baby Kollross, male, stillborn,
mother Fiona, father Michael."

Jeez-oh! Was that really 23 years ago?

- Fiona Kollross, as in?
- The very same, nee Hogarth.

You said "ghosts", plural.
Fiona Kollross looked very much alive to me.

Her husband isn't.

- What happened?
- Killed himself.

Because his baby died?

No, he killed himself a few days
before his child was born.

What man would kill himself
with his wife about to give birth?

That's a question I asked myself.

His suicide is a mystery to most folk.

He was young, he was brilliant.

He was a promising surgeon,
he was marrying into money.

He was a golden boy if ever there was one!

A mystery to MOST folk?

I was sure that Fiona knew why he did it.

And Sir James. And his wife.

But I was warned off.

Private bankers, very powerful.

Lot of money, funny handshakes.

Oh, you and the Hogarths, the history!
What made you think they knew?

Oi!

Starts wi' a "P".

Rhymes wi' fish, dish and swish!

This coffee!

Now, these are our millennium babies.

You see here, "2000"?

Girls on the left, boys on the right.

My, there are some bonnie babies here,
Miss Currie!

Have you seen them, Siobhan?
Come and have a look.

Very nice.

I think she's afraid to come too close
in case she starts getting all broody!

You get yourself a man and babies, dear.

Spinsterhood's only plus
is a well-sprung pelvic floor.

Are all the babies photographed here?

Oh, yes. And the families
all received a framed copy.

I started that tradition myself,
so when I retired,

I was presented with my handiwork as a gift.

Have we met?

Yes. Yes, we have.

Yes, I was one of the policemen
working on the death of Michael Kollross.

- We met at Templemount.
- Oh, yes.

Poor Michael, eh?

Tell me, Miss Currie. Do you know,
did Dr Devlin receive threats of any kind?

Threats? Oh, no, no, never.

I'm sorry.

(SOBBING) I'm sorry.

Stick the kettle on, Siobhan, will you?
Milk, no sugar.

Miss Currie?

No milk and two sugars, Siobhan.

I'll away and put the kettle on, shall I?

And do you prefer Rich Tea or Digestives
to dunk, Inspector?

No need for sarcasm.

Hello!

Excuse me.

When I was at Oxford, I became friends
with this boy - David Costello.

After a while, he wanted more than friendship.

When I declined,
he decided to start badgering me.

- I went to the police.
- His flat was covered in photos of Philippa.

He got a suspended sentence for stalking.

- When was this?
- About three years ago.

Tell them about the e-mail.

David left me alone after that

until this morning when he sent me this.

Sit down.

"My little General...

"So it was Edinburgh after all.

"That was considerate of you, Flip.

"Read the papers and see what I've done.

"You hold lives in your hands, Flip.

"Say you'll be mine and you'll save them.

"I'll leave my little coffins,
so you'll know it's me what done it."

Are you sure the e-mail's from him?

My hobby is war games.

He joined the club I was in at Oxford
and as I was forever beating him,

he called me his "little General".

And Flip, he used to call me that too.

What does the reference to Edinburgh mean?

He knew I intended coming here to study.
It made it easy for him to follow, I suppose.

After everything that happened,
I didn't think he'd dare contact me.

What shall we do?

You've done more than enough already.

Oh, Blind Pew!

- You know this man?
- Bumped into him.

- Outside the museum.
- Don't like coincidences. Make me nervous.

Hardly a sane man's wallpaper!
What about the girl?

Moving in to Miranda's.

- Just in case.
- Miranda?

A member of the Easter Road hard core.

Student accommodation
has come a long way.

My parents were wealthy.

When they died... Well...

Waterloo.

What makes a good one? A good general?

Be prepared to take the big risks.

Always confuse the enemy
and always have a Plan B.

- That'll do, I think.
- Is that where you met Costello?

At the War Games Club?

No, joining the club
was part of his pursuit of me.

How did you meet?

I'm involved in children's charities.
David worked for one of them.

My mother died when I was eight.

When my father remarried,
his new wife didn't like me very much

and life became extremely difficult for me.

When I inherited, I decided
to help out kids in similar situations.

Do you think he's after your money?

I honestly don't know if that's it.

- What's he like?
- Like?

A fantasist.

Pure Walter Mitty.

The Lord is full of compassion and mercy,

slow to anger and of great kindness.

,I. As a father cares for his children,
,I. So does the Lord care for those who fear Him., /I.

Hey!

For He Himself knows of what we are made.
He remembers that we are but dust.

,I. Our days are like the grass.
,I. We flourish like a flower in the field., /I.

,I. When the wind goes over it, it is gone
,I. And its place shall know it no more., /I.

Bollocks!

But the merciful goodness of the Lord
endures forever on those who fear Him.

Mary, hello. Good to see you...

I'm so sorry.
I thought you were someone else.

That's Margaret's girl.

(HYMN PLAYING:
"Miserere Mei, Deus" - Allegri)

- Bugger!
- Are you sure it was him?

No.

- Are you OK?
- No.

Inspector Rebus!

- Mr Mayes.
- A lovely service.

Never been as close
to that much money before.

- What do you mean, "money"?
- Sir James Hogarth.

I didn't know you knew Dr Devlin.

He came to Templemount
about... five or six weeks ago.

He seemed like a nice chap, so here I am.

I suppose it's got its downside to it.

- What?
- Money.

Let's hope so.

Thanks.

(MOBILE PHONE RINGS)

Hello?

Where?

He's absolutely certain.
Dressed in black tie as if for a funeral.

What's he doing here?

What's he doing now?

He said Costello knew he'd been spotted.
Didn't care, even smiled.

- Smiled?
- That's what he said.

Then maybe David Costello is arrogant.

Which means
we will most definitely catch him.

But... not tonight,

I'm thinking, not tonight.

Can you get me to the Oxford, please?

- Oh, shit!
- What?

- Flat tyre.
- Oh, no. No, I don't believe it!

- Not now!
- I'll change it, shall I?

- Look, I'd muck... I'd muck in...
- No, I'll get you there.

- Arse!
- What?

- No spare.
- Oh, you're kidding!

Miranda!

- You're too late.
- Miranda!

You're late. I warned you.

We had a puncture.

Excuses! Good night!

- I'll give you my Joe Baker!
- You're lying!

Keep the date. I'll give you my Joe Baker!

How much longer?

Be patient.

(FLICKS SWITCH)

What are you doing?

Three... two... one...

Rebus!

,I. (CROWD ROARS), /I.

Oh, ya dancer!

Forgiven?

Forgiven?

Rebus, if you ever dreamed of scoring
at Easter Road, dream no more.

(SIREN WAILS)

Um, that is a magnificent thought.

Just hold on to that thought.

- (CAR DOOR SLAMS)
- Just hold on to that thought!

(LAUGHTER)

I can't believe he's mine.

Ah, well...

I've still got the Famous Five.

The Famous Five?

Come and have a look.

They're fantastic.

What are you gonna do with them?

Well, I had thought
I might fix them to the ceiling

as a sort of conversation piece,
viewed from the bed.

I mean, how erotic is that?

- Unless you're a Jambo.
- What, in MY bed?

You know, it might just work.

Mrs Hogarth?

Hello!

Stop it! Don't, you're moving. Stop it!

Don't. No, no, no, no, don't.

(BOTH LAUGH)

- Did I say I was going to America soon?
- America?

I do not recall you saying that, no.

Not for ever, I hope?

Six-month exchange.

I just thought you should know that.

So instead of sitting there colouring,
we might use our time more fruitfully.

Fruitfully? I like the sound of that.

(MOBILE PHONE RINGS)

Hey...

Hello?

Well, actually, he's right here. Philippa.

- Hello?
,I.,I. - I've had an e-mail from David., /I.

Just an address this time.

Inverlever House.

(DOOR OPENS)

- That's new.
- What's new?

Bible.

How do you know?

Last time I visited here,
there were pages torn out.

Strewn across the floor.

What were you doing here?

This lady is Jessica Hogarth.

Wife of Sir James, mother of Fiona.

I was investigating the death
of Michael Kollross.

He spent the last days of his life here.

History again.

Michael Kollross came to live
with his mother-in-law? How odd.

I was convinced that if anybody knew
why he killed himself, she would.

- And did she?
- Oh, yes.

I'd already guessed the reason,
but I needed it confirmed.

You guessed?

You said it yourself, Siobhan.

Why would a man kill himself,

knowing that he had a child about to be born?

Unless...

his child wasn't about to be born.

You mean not his?

But then whose?

That's what I never found out.

Inspector...

Another smile. There's something else.

Inside the lid, see?

Numbers. "8, 3, 8, 2."

Better.

Can we make this quick? I'm going out.

I feel bound to say, Mrs Kollross,

you're taking your mother's death
remarkably well.

I last saw my mother
when I was in my late teens.

She's been gone a long time.

Can I ask... why the separation?

My father...

is a very complex man.

She wasn't good with complexity.

They weren't ever happy.

And as she got older,
she retreated from reality.

The Bible became her lens on the world.

And she'd only communicate
through scripture.

Of course, we tried to help, but...

She couldn't see that she was ill.

In the end, she left.

And we let her go.

Sergeant...

You don't mind if I do this, do you?

I'm expecting my daughter
over for dinner tonight.

Of course not. Go right ahead.

Poor Jessica.

I can't imagine who'd do such a thing.

- Oh, we think we know who did it.
- This, uh... Costello?

But what was his motive?

My wife and my best friend.

Why's he doing this?

We're not sure about motive.

He leaves things.

Things?

Tiny coffins.

With effigies inside.

Effigies of smiling babies.

Last time, there was a number on it.

Numbers?

"8, 3, 8, 2."

Sir James?

Nothing.

Just numbers, I'm afraid.

"8, 3, 8, 2..."

No.

Can't say they mean anything straight off.

You're sure?

I've just said so.

There wasn't a wet eye in the house.

Likewise. And the numbers?

- Meant nothing to him.
- Nor her.

It could be a date.

8th of March, 1982.

The day she lost her son.

The day he lost his grandson.

Then again, maybe just didn't register.

She was in a hurry to go out.

Dinner with Daddy is hardly a big deal!

(MOBILE PHONE RINGS)

Hello?

Two people killed because of me.

"My little General, I hope the demise of the
old lady will convince you I mean business.

"Watch this space."

It's possible it's got nothing to do
with you. Costello could be lying.

Lying?

Let's just say the random selection
of victims theory has taken a knock.

Out of a whole city
he picks two people who knew each other.

Then why's he doing it?

I don't know.

- When you mention Miranda...
- Mm-hm?

...the Chief Super kind of tightens.

Why is that?

Girl meets boy,

girl loses boy.

Girl still holds torch for boy.

The old story.

- You and the Chief Super?
- Mm-hm.

But... she's the Chief Super!

Rank comes off with the rest of the kit.

Are they saying anything yet?

There's one thing that keeps recurring.

- I don't understand it.
- And that is?

"I'm not dead," they're saying.

"That's why I'm smiling.

"I'm still alive."

Do you mind? It's pouring outside
and we need some milk.

- I'll go.
- No, it's OK.

Flip!

Agh! Aagh!

Oi!

OK, so that's the Peploe and that for January.

- Hey!
- Hey.

- Are you OK?
- Yeah. It's just my leg.

- You should be at home.
- Yeah, she should.

I'm OK.

Well, I have to get this done.
America, remember?

She borrowed my coat
and David must've thought she was me.

- Are you sure it was him?
- Yeah, he called me Flip.

Do you have a theory about these coffins?

About their significance?

In this context, no.

- Do you want to know what I think?
- Sure.

At the time the coffins were left on
Arthur's Seat, stillbirths weren't registered.

And stillborn children
weren't entitled to a proper burial.

Perhaps mothers left the coffins
as symbolic interments for their children.

That's not bad.

I've got some stuff to do.

Tactful, as well as frighteningly bright.

Ah!

I'm fine.

You know, I was thinking...

This injury... You may have
to cancel the trip to America.

Rebus, are you saying
you don't want me to go?

No, no.

What, are you saying
if I say, "Don't go," you wouldn't?

No.

No, I never said that.

- What do you want?
- To give you this.

And this.

No!

Hello? Sir James?

Help me!

You've had news of your father?

His arm's broken
and shock, obviously, but he's strong.

He'll be all right.

These coffins, first Devlin,
then your mother, now your father.

There has to be a reason for them.

I'm sure you're right,
but they mean nothing to me.

- You arrived shortly after the attack.
- What of it?

Your arrival and Costello's departure
must have been pretty close together.

- You didn't see anything?
- Don't you think I'd say so?

Did you?

No.

Siobhan!

That paint could match Fiona Kollross's car.

Have a look inside.

It's very good of you to co-operate with us,
Mrs Kollross.

I think David Costello... hit your car.

As I said, Inspector...

It happened
while the vehicle was unattended.

As you said.

- (FOOTSTEPS)
- That was quick!

Picture it. There's me and the pointy-heads
with their gizmos... Excuse me.

All going on about how difficult it is
to get round a password

when I say for a joke, "The guy's name
was Costello, so why not try Abbott?"

- That was never it?
- It was.

There were the e-mails he sent to Philippa
Balfour and a draft message he'd yet to send.

He refers to the recipient as "M" and says,
"Messed up on the old man. Will try again."

"M"...Costello's killer perhaps?
Was there an address?

No, just the draft message.

I wonder why he didn't send it?

Maybe we were meant to find it.

Nothing like a bit
of encouragement, affirmation.

And that was nothing like!

- Sir?
- Just put it down there, would you?

This is the camper van stuff.

- There's no doubt the two vehicles collided.
- "G-1936..."

What the hell's that?

It says Costello's prints were found on it,
as well as Jessica Hogarth's blood,

suggesting he wrote it at the murder scene.

Siobhan...

Fiona said her mother would only
communicate through scripture.

"G-1936."

Genesis 19:36?

Genesis...

19...

Sodom and Gomorrah.

The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.

34, 35...

36.

"Thus were both daughters of Lot
with child by their father."

Evidence from Jessica Hogarth's house,

taken the day after Michael Kollross
killed himself there.

6th of March, 1982. 23 years ago.

Two days before his wife had a son, stillborn.

What if Costello's that child?

Uh-huh?

The baby wasn't stillborn?
They gave it away?

And when he grows up,
he wants to know why.

His first two victims died slowly.

Very slowly.

That gives him enough time
to talk to them before they go.

Devlin tells him that Fiona is his mother.

- What can Jessica tell him?
- Daddy's name.

Here we are.

These are pages from Jessica's Bible
scattered all over the floor.

Genesis, Chapter 19, Verse...

36.

"Thus were both the daughters of Lot
with child by their father."

Incest.

If Fiona is Costello's mother,

Sir James is his father,
Jessica knew about it.

That's why she left home.

Sent her mad.

Well, it would, wouldn't it?

So, does Sir James know
who's behind the killings and why?

Well, if he does, he's not going
to come to us and tell us about it!

Fiona's car collided with the camper van.

We know that.
Why is she keeping quiet about it?

Daddy's orders?

Yes. Always.

He was her abuser. He still is.
She'll do what she's told.

We're kept in the dark about the camper van,

Sir James goes looking for it,
finds it, kills Costello.

How did he do that with a busted arm?

- True.
- You have to firm this up.

We've got Costello's DNA.
All we need is Fiona's.

Do you think she'd co-operate?
Would Sir James allow it?

Well, then how?

No! There will be no tricks, John,
no underhand schemes, no subterfuge.

Nothing that is not written in the book.

But we need to be 100 per cent certain.

You're damn right we do, but no tricks.

I won't let anything happen to you.

I know that.

Thank you for coming, Mrs Kollross...
Sir James.

- You did say it was important.
- It is.

It's been confirmed that your car came into
contact with David Costello's camper van.

- So?
- And you can't remember how?

I told you. I don't know.

Well, can you at least tell us
when you noticed the damage to your car?

Look, why is this so important?
Costello's dead.

And I'm trying to catch his killer, Sir James,

and knowing the movements prior to his death
will help me in that endeavour.

- I can't remember when I saw the damage.
- Well, of course, but...

I think that's enough.
Fiona's given you all the help she can.

- (FOOTSTEPS)
- Oh, shit!

- I beg your pardon?
- Nothing.

- I said no tricks!
- It's just a fag end.

I'm your superior officer. I instructed you!

Superior officer?

You are a copper, first and last!

And remember, I could always tell
when you said "no" but meant "yes".

Or maybe I can't tell.

- (PHONE RINGS)
- Rebus?

Yeah. Thank you.

Shit!

Arse... holes!

Fuck!

Better?

David Costello and Fiona Kollross...

are certainly not related.

So, now what?

- I was sure I was right.
- Maybe you were partly right.

What if the mysterious "M" is the lost
Hogarth and Costello was working for him?

If Devlin did switch babies,

it would mean the woman who lost her child
must have been confined

at or about the same time as Fiona Kollross.

So, find her and you find "M".

Put a form in for the phone, will you?

So, Inspector Rebus,
what can I do you for?

Another list. All the women who were
confined at the same time as Fiona Kollross.

- Can you do that?
- Absolutely no problem. Follow me.

All the names are on this list?

You couldn't have missed a file
when you put them onto computer?

Absolutely not. I do not make mistakes.

And no-one else has access to the files.

Excellent, Mr Mayes.

Well, there was Dr Devlin, of course.

What?

I told you at the funeral.

He came in and asked
to have access to a file.

Said he was trying to trace an old patient.

Trying to ERASE an old patient more like!

Just watch that step. That one's
a bit tricky. That's it. Isn't she beautiful?

23 years later,
Devlin alters the records. Why?

He must know
"M" is looking for his real parents.

"M" had been to see him?

"M" had been to see him and he wants
to protect Sir James from scandal.

And himself. Probably himself.

- (NURSE) Smile!
- We'll never know.

(NURSE) Oh, very good!

- There's another list.
- (NURSE) One more just to make sure.

What?

There's another list.

And... smile!

- Boyd.
- Here.

- Jenkins.
- Here.

- Purdie.
- Here.

- Moore.
- Yeah.

- Hold on, you missed one here.
- Hmm?

No, I told you, Inspector,
girls on the left. You said a boy.

This girl's dressed in blue.

- The ultrasound will have said "boy"...
- Balfour.

...and Mum delivered a girl.
It happened. There you are, see.

"Mr and Mrs Balfour, baby Philippa,
born 8th of March, 1982."

,I. So, can I come in? /I.

,I. I'll come back then. Later., /I.

(BUZZES)

(PHONE RINGS)

,I. There's no-one here to take your call.
,I. Please leave a message., /I.

,I. Mrs Kollross? Inspector Rebus. I need
,I. To talk to you. I'll call you on the mobile., /I.

Hello, Mummy. Or is it Mother?

- What should I call you? Fiona?
- Maybe.

(MOBILE PHONE RINGS)

He wants to talk to you.
It'll be about me, I expect.

,I....not available., /I.
- Shit!

- Move over!
- (HORN BLARES)

- Fuck you too, you arsehole!
- Mrs Kollross, I need to talk to you.

Call me when you get this.

She's running circles round us. Costello's not
stalking her. She's giving him bloody orders!

If you want something done,
get someone obsessed with you to do it!

This is nice, isn't it?

I like green tea too.

- What do you want?
- Mugs.

In there.

- What if we'd caught him?
- Who would you believe? Him or her?

Military tactics - take a risk,
but always have a Plan B.

,I. - I'm sorry..., /I.
- Shit!

- As he was no longer useful, she killed him?
- Yeah. Go left!

- How did you...
...did I find you?

I found a photograph.

Me and Mum and Dad at that
Templemount place. The rest was easy.

He made you give me away, didn't he?
No sugar, right?

I don't even know how you like your tea.

No.

Was it terrible, what he did to you?

(SIR JAMES) Who was it?

Fiona? Darling?

- What's he doing here?
- He's here because...

There was a time I thought
it would stop, but I couldn't...

- Fiona!
- I love him.

- No. No, what you...
- Fiona!

- How could you love him?
- What's happening?

- No, that's not right.
- Don't do this.

Keeping you was...
We had to give you away.

No. No, Mummy, tell me that you didn't...

I'm not your mummy. I'm your fucking sister!

(INTERCOM BUZZES)

- Fiona!
- What about me?

What about me?

- What are you doing?
- You vile, sick, disgusting piece of work!

Stop it!

Go away!

- Leave us alone.
- (INTERCOM BUZZES)

What about me?

No!

(DOOR BUZZES)

(FIONA SOBS)

Sit down.

Sit down!

(DISTANT POLICE SIRENS)

(SIRENS GET LOUDER)

Ah! Here we are.

Here we are.

I'm gonna miss you, Rebus.

Aye, but will you stay true to me?

Get real! Kiss?

Ciao.

Safe journey.

OK?

Uh-huh.

No, you're not.

OK, I'm not.

The Oxford then, is it?

You're a mind-reader, Siobhan.

Very handy skill for a copper.