Original subtitles

- Look at that, I can't even say the place names up here.

Harry, what are we doing here?

We should be heading south for Glasgow, not north to Oslo.

- The roads to Glasgow are going to be blue

with police out looking for us, Francie.

How many times do I have to say it?

- Good afternoon.

- Hello.

- Can I help?

- No.

It's finished.

- Aye.

Oh, a Westie.

I've got one myself, he's called Jock.

- This wee one's called Jock, too.

- Well, I suppose it's a common enough tag for a Westie, eh?

I'm Hamish Macbeth.

- Rose Hart.

- What a beautiful name.

- I'm afraid we'll have to go in now, Hamish.

To Lochdubh.

- I'll give you a lift back.

Is there a, luggage or anything you'd like to take?

- No.

- Good dog, you're a fine wee dog.

Stay in now, wee Jock.

- That's just a tad over the half pound there, Esme.

- Well then, let me pay you for it Mr. Campbell.

- Pay, she says.

I'm sure what's a tad to a grocery tycoon like myself.

- Well, if you're sure, Rory.

I mean it does like look top quality bacon.

The kind that will crisp up nice for breakfast.

- Oh, I'm sure it will, Esme.

- Can I see you out, Esme?

- Thank you, boys.

- There you are.

Oh, my, isn't that just a grand vision

of womanlihood there, Rory.

What do you reckon, Rory?

- I've just had a warning.

- Did you see anybody you recognized?

- No.

I heard a car, as clear as I'm hearing you,

but there was nothing there.

- Right, Rory Campbell, you can get me my messages

my boy and I would prefer to be home

before what's going to happen happens.

Here boy, here Wee Jock, come here!

- Watch your dog.

- I can see it, I can see it.

- Yeah, I'm just saying.

- Stay, stay, Wee Jock.

- Oh, no, no!

- You aimed straight for it, I told you

and you aimed straight for the dog.

- I thought I saw the boy for a second.

I saw the boy.

- What boy?

Harry, that's not possible.

Now, come on get us out of here before the police come.

- It's Wee Jock, TV John.

They drove straight at him.

I tried to shout, but Jock wouldn't stay.

- It's happened.

- It's Wee Jock, Hamish.

- They ran straight at him, Ham.

- What am I going to do?

Maybe Doc Brown can save him, Hamish.

- I'm afraid I'll hurt him.

- Well, young Lachie's got a gentle way

with the beasts, don't you?

- I'll get, I'll get him, Hamish.

- Use your jacket, come on.

Put it on there.

Gentle.

- What's that?

- It's Wee Jock, Doc.

God, I know that sounds really stupid,

but it is.

- Come away in.

- I'm not a smug man, Harry,

but I have to mention you are...

I did see, we needed petrol!

That's it.

That's the same Francie, that's the one.

- It's a road sign, so what?

- That's the sign that the voices told me about.

It's a starting point.

- The starting point for what?

- For our new lives of devotion and prayer Francis.

Out there in the wilderness.

We're going to be monks.

You and me.

We're going to build our own little monastery.

I mean we do have a lot to repent for Francie.

We committed a great sin you and me, what we did.

- I know, I know Harry, I don't need reminding.

But, out there, we'll never survive out there.

What we going to eat?

Drink?

Live in?

- We'll be in the midst of His abundance, Francie.

We'll dine on the fruit from the trees.

We'll drink the sweet water from the pure, clear streams.

And as for a roof, we'll use the forest pines

and a mud floor under our feet.

Are you going to repent with me Francie?

Or do you intend going south?

Straight into the arms of the police

that's sure to be waiting for you.

- Away you go now.

What's happened?

He's got run over, he's got run over.

I saw a woman in the Land Rover.

Who was she?

- Her van broke down,

I gave her a lift and that's it, I don't know.

Did Jimmy see who did it?

- Aye, he said there were two men.

They seemed to be dressed alike

and one of them had white hair.

- I've had to give Jock a wee injection Hamish.

There was nothing could be done for him.

- It was Wee Jock's time Hamish.

I had a warning.

- Don't!

Don't give me any warning, nonsense

about warnings and premonitions.

Wee Jock was killed by men

in a machine.

He'd be still...

He was killed by men.

As soon as I find out who did it they're going

to wish they'd never been born.

- What would you like done with Wee Jock's remains, Hamish?

- What?

- Aye, we've had a bit of a warm spell lately, you know,

it's been up to 17 degrees Celsius, you know.

- Well, what do you want done with all this stuff?

- Take what you want for yourself

and dump the rest, I don't care.

Oh, John.

You could do me one favor.

- Suddenly in Lochdubh High Street,

Wee Jock Macbeth, friend and faithful companion

of Hamish Macbeth, police constable.

His passing brings such deep sorrow.

- Yes, I heard about the tragedy Mr. McIver,

but Wee Jock, we haven't had this before.

- Oh, well, he's never been dead before Mrs. McLeod.

- But, creatures, Mr. McIver, I imagine the editor

might object to having a dog in the deaths column.

- John, what brings you here?

- It's Wee Jock Macbeth, he's been killed.

And they want it in the deaths column.

- Oh, I'm so sorry.

And Hamish?

- Oh, bereft Isobel.

- And there's the matter of rates.

- Is he at the station?

- Oh, I'd leave him be just now if I were you Isobel.

- Yes.

I'm sure Constable Macbeth will pay

whatever's necessary Flora.

Put the notice in, will you please?

- If you say so, Miss Sutherland.

But I will not be answerable to the editor.

You're just a reporter yourself, after all.

- From Big Eric Campbell and his boys,

with deepest sympathies.

- Aye.

- That's a lot of sympathy.

Are you sure you'll manage it?

- I'll manage.

- Testing, one, two.

Good evening everybody, or should I say, howdy partners.

I'm Freight Train Jackie Dallas

and this here's my good woman Dale.

And we'd sure appreciate it if you was to give us

a big howdy to make us feel at home.

So just you holler good and loud,

howdy Freight Train, howdy Dale!

- Howdy Freight Train, howdy Dale.

- Yes, did you hear that, Dale?

- I did Freight Train, go for it darling.

- Now you good folks, just listen up now.

'Cause old Freight Train's got a song to sing.

A sad and a very lonely song.

- God, you're not that bad.

- Hamish, Mr. Freight Train meant no harm.

- I know, I know, I just wanted to explain what happened.

You see, Mr. Freight Train.

- There's a white dog barking in the darkness.

There's a white dog.

What's the matter with him?

- It's one of his turns he'll be alright in a minute.

- Stay and sing for a minute.

Isobel try and get 'em back down, eh?

Sing them a song.

And a bark.

What did he mean, John?

A white dog in the darkness?

- Well that man's got the Satan's sight, Hamish.

I doubt if he understands it, but he's got it.

Something's happening, Hamish.

Something's happening.

- Oh, rubbish.

- Harry,

maybe we should just give ourselves up.

I mean,

it's not working out just right.

Is it?

- Do you trust in Him?

Trust me then.

After a good night's sleep,

come a new morn

it will be okay.

Trust me, trust me!

See in the morning, we'll be skipping over

that heather like a couple of young bucks.

Harry Dobbs won't let his old great Francie down, friend.

You just cuddle yourself down here

and get yourself some sleep, okay?

- You'll not let me sleep in, will you Harry?

- I'm sorry, but I did knock.

- I thought you'd left or something.

- No, no, I went for a walk.

- So I see, you're soaking.

- I'll be alright.

I hate troubling you, under the circumstances.

- Aye.

Where's your dog?

- Oh, he'll find me when he wants to.

Do you know who?

- Two men in a gray car.

- I saw a gray car,

and two men running up on the hillside.

- Did one of them have white hair?

Come on, did one of them have white hair?

- Yes.

One of them had white hair.

- Now where exactly did you see the car?

- Five miles north of the village.

- Go away.

Leave me in peace!

Leave me alone!

Hamish, no!

- Jock!

Jock!

It was Wee Jock's time.

You can't do this Hamish.

Hamish, no!

Now put it down into second.

It is.

- Into third, now into third.

Top foot, clutch, your clutch, clutch boy.

Are you fit, Rory?

- I'm ready.

- So, we're just waiting on TV John, then.

- Aye. - Aye.

- Man, I just cannot believe this premonition business.

Are we really saying Macbeth is going

to execute the men that killed his dog?

- Why not, he dearly loved that dog.

- Well if you don't believe in premonitions

maybe you can tell us where Macbeth is, Doctor?

Or how come the official revolver's missing from the safe,

along with the official ammunition?

- But we don't even know where they went.

- They were driving north and Hamish knew that.

- Macbeth wants them to himself Doc, we have to stop him.

- Clutch, clutch, get your clutch, your clutch, boy.

- Did you catch anything?

Were there any birds?

- Aye, millions, and they landed everywhere but my loop.

I'm sorry, Harry, but I just ran out of patience.

What are we going to do?

- Say a prayer with me, Francie.

God,

Francie and me are in dire need of some nourishment here

and I was just kind of wondering

if there was any...

What?

- I said ask him for a can opener.

- Lord, Francis has just pointed out that we might need a...

- Bet you never guessed that manna came in 57 varieties.

Great.

- Let's get after them, then.

- So, what are you two boys doing all the way out here?

Did you get hit by a ward's scheme is it?

- Ah, that's a good one, that one is there.

But, no.

In actual fact, Francie and me we're corporate executives.

You know, the initiative course thing.

They stick you in the middle of somewhere

and see how you fare or not.

- What you doing out here?

- Well, I love it here, Mr. Dobbs.

Didn't fancy what passes for life in society these days.

So I packed up, moved out here.

- You mean you just tramp the hills and stuff?

- Yeah, sometimes.

When I get fed up tramping I fly about the hills Mr. McGill.

What, you're saying you can fly, Mr. Macbeth?

- No, I'm saying if you two are corporate executives

then I can fly, Mr. McGill.

Now, now, see I reckon that's

prison gear you're both wearing.

And I reckon you left before you

paid your full debt to society.

- Just what exactly do you intend

to do about that Mr. Macbeth?

- Depends what you were in for, Mr. Dobbs.

- Robbery.

- Well, as I've nothing much worth stealing

I guess you're no threat to me.

- You're absolutely right, Mr. Macbeth.

You have nothing to fear from us.

I mean, why would we want to harm what the Lord sent?

I mean do you actually think in

this vast expanse we bumped into each other?

No, no.

You were sent, Mr. Macbeth.

- For what, Mr. Dobbs?

- To show Francis and me the way of the wild.

And then after that to point us

in the direction of trees and forests.

- Trees?

So what you wanting trees for?

- We need the timber.

Build us a little monastery.

You see we're exactly the same as you, Mr. Macbeth.

We're heart-sick of society.

It's all grief back there.

- Well, I could stand the company for a day or two.

Teach you's what I can.

- God bless you, Mr. Macbeth.

What's your first name, by the way?

As we're going to be traveling companions.

- It's Hamish.

- Harry.

- Francie.

- Well, I suppose I could start

by showing you how to build a wee fire.

Brew you up a cup of tea.

- Now you're talking.

- Hey, aren't these his shoe?

Aye, that's Macbeth's tracks all right.

He was running hard.

- How far ahead is he, TV John?

- How the hell would I know that?

- Well I just thought you could tell that kind of thing.

I mean, in the pictures those Indian scouts can just scrunch

up some droppings in their hand and tell you everything.

- Well, I'm happy to say, Lachie Junior,

that Macbeth hasn't left us any droppings.

But if he does you can do the scrunching up.

Now let's get a move on.

- You know the boy was driving, eh?

I tell you Hollywood's got a lot to answer for about it.

- Hollywood, eh?

And here's me thinking it was genetic.

- Rory Campbell, would you like a fat lip?

- Take it easy, Lachlan.

Here have a suck on this.

- No, I'll pass on that if you don't mind.

- I don't mind.

- Can you feel it?

- Aye.

- Do just like I showed you.

Whap it out.

- I did it!

I did it!

I caught my own fish!

Hamish, that was wonderful, man.

- That was fancy.

Well, he's caught up with them,

there were three of them here.

- Well then, I was right, not a cadaver in sight.

Macbeth must be taking them in.

- Where to?

John o' Groats?

They're heading north.

- If I had murder in mind, Doctor,

I'd lead my prey to where they'd never be found.

Macbeth's picking his spot.

- Well, there's plenty hours of daylight.

I suggest we march on at the double.

- Tell me, Francie, you do know your pal's not well?

- Aye, I know he needs serious help.

But what can I do?

And he is my friend, Hamish.

Thank God, me and Harry grew up together.

Sailed for our playing at ships together,

getting me redundant together.

I cannot desert him now.

I'm just hoping he comes back to his senses.

And we can go back home.

If not home, we could go back to the nick.

- Aye.

Will we catch him in time, John?

- Well, I'm banking on my vision being accurate.

The scene of the crime was very, very specific.

It wasn't just wilderness.

If we can intercept Macbeth before he reaches that spot.

- Has anyone got tamata?

- Tamata?

It's tomato.

What have I told you about speaking properly, boy?

You're in the company of educated people here, you know.

- Who?

- Well, the doctor, there.

You're letting yourself down something awful.

Do you know that?

- And what about the way you speak?

- Me?

- I'd tread wary now, Lachlan.

It is a known fact that the linguistic development

of offspring is crucially affected

by the parental use of language.

- Aye, I can pass myself off with any company, boy.

You'll not catch me asking for a tomata.

- I wasn't asking for a tomato.

I have tomato.

What I was about to ask for, before I was interrupted,

was if anyone without tomato was happy to exchange,

I would be willing to part with a tomato for, say, a banano.

- No, what you are asking for is a slap in the chops.

- Oh, well that's nice talk, isn't it?

And in front of the Doctor, too.

- Boys, boys!

We shouldn't be squabbling on a night like this.

With full bellies and a raging fire we should be

engaging in a spot of male bonding.

- I'm for that, Rory.

- Aye, aye you're right, Rory.

Sorry, boy.

What, um?

Aye?

- What did he mean?

- What?

- Male bonding?

- Well, it's, you know, it's what men do on the trail,

round the campfire.

They sort of let their feminine side come out, you know.

That's right, Doc, isn't it?

- Something like that, Lachlan.

- Yeah, goodnight.

- Goodnight.

- What?

- Harry.

What is it, man?

Harry!

- The boy, Francie!

- The boy, are you sure?

- As clear as the day as we killed him.

- Harry.

Look, look there's nothing.

It was a dream, Harry.

It was just a dream.

There.

You're alright, you're alright.

He's sleeping.

- You lied to me.

You told me you were robbers, not killers.

I'll not travel with killers.

- We're no killers, Hamish.

What Harry's talking about, it was an accident.

- Well, you better tell me about this accident.

So I can make my mind up.

You've still got a lot to learn.

You've got no hope of surviving out here.

I'm not telling you another thing til I get the truth.

I mean it, Francis.

- Seven year ago

we robbed a warehouse.

Got a load of VCR's.

Was early Sunday morning.

It went like clockwork.

We were driving the van along this quiet road

when

this wee boy

he just stepped out.

Harry tried to stop.

He hit the brakes so hard

I nearly went through the windscreen.

I was KO'd, Hamish.

Harry telled me what happened next.

It was clear the boy was dead.

Harry was sure we hadn't been seen.

So he put his jacket over the boy

and put him in the back of the van.

By the time I came to my senses it was too late.

Harry had dumped the van,

with the boy inside.

- I take it the boy was never found?

- No.

Harry panicked.

With a van load of stolen goods,

you're talking a lot of jail time.

He panicked because we're no killers.

You can see what it's done to him.

- To him?

What about the parents?

The boy's family?

What's it done to them?

He could have contacted them anonymously,

told them where he was.

- No, we couldn't.

Harry left his jacket in the van

and there was something in it that could identify him.

- What?

- A bloody laminated bingo card,

that's what.

The boy is dead, Hamish.

Nothing can bring him back.

I always told myself, as long as the boy's family

didn't know the truth, that at least they could hope.

I had to tell myself something.

No, we couldn't tell anybody where the boy was.

We'd have been branded as murderers.

- Right, are we fit then?

Let's get going.

- Hamish!

- It's no use, John, we'll have to stop.

- Aye, he's right, John.

- How about you, Lachie Junior?

- I could run for miles yet.

- Then you go on.

When you find them come back here.

Now they're still heading north so keep the sun

on your right shoulder and you'll not go far wrong.

- I'll find them, TV John.

- Aye, you're back.

- Francie was worried that you'd

went away and left us, Hamish.

- Ah, no, I went to get us some breakfast.

Fish again.

- Fish will be fine, Hamish.

I'll get the fire going.

- Aye, let's get moving.

- Any sign of the boy, yet?

- None.

- We should have asked the Doctor to go, TV John.

- No, my boy will pull through.

Any minute now he'll come tearing over that hill there.

- Daddy, daddy,

daddy, daddy!

- Tearing over that hill, will he?

He's been running round in circles.

- It went and clouded over.

Macbeth's going to kill those men.

I saw the gun, TV John.

I saw it clear as day.

- It's just a piece of string, Hamish.

- I know it doesn't look much,

but it's strong enough.

Cross it all the time.

Well, you wanted forests, Harry.

There they are.

- Hey, hey.

Hamish, what is this?

- Uh, Hamish, you were sent.

- I wasn't sent Harry, I came for you.

You boys have caused a lot of grief.

Time to put things right.

- My God.

He's done it.

Oh!

- I had a wee dog, you know.

Remember all his life consisted he was eating, sleeping,

doing his best at giving me constant affection.

And you two,

you two took him away from me.

- If you're going to kill us, will you get on with it?

Because Francis and I will not crawl,

if that's what you think.

- What do you think, Francis?

- Harry's right.

But all I'll say is, I don't want to die, Hamish.

But I don't believe you'll kill us for a dog.

- Believe it.

They're just like children.

- Hamish, this is not right,

they're human beings!

- Hamish, man, you can get grief counseling,

I'll get you the top man from Aberdeen.

- Stay out of this!

- Can't shoot us now, right?

There's witnesses there they'll testify.

- Not when I tell them what you did to the wee boy.

This is for him as well as for Wee Jock.

- Wait!

Hamish,

is there anything I can do or say to save my life?

- You?

- I beg your pardon?

- I'm sorry, I'm Hamish Macbeth.

- I'm Susan Graham, Mr. Macbeth.

Please, come in.

Robert,

this is Hamish Macbeth.

My husband Robert.

- It was good you came all the way down here, Mr. Macbeth.

We wanted to thank you personally for what you did for us.

- Aye.

- I'll get some coffee.

Then we can talk.

- Mr. and Mrs. Graham, I'd just like to say that,

you know the man who killed your son,

well it was a genuine accident.

And I tell you there's no amount of punishment can cause him

more suffering than his own conscience already has.

- We're not looking for revenge Mr. Macbeth.

All we ever wanted was to have our son back.

Or at least to know what happened to him.

- Now we do, thanks to you.

- Aye.

Mrs. Graham, do you have a sister?

Or some relative who maybe looks like you?

- I had a sister called Rose.

Why do you ask?

- Well there was a woman who...

Rose is dead, Mr. Macbeth.

- I'm sorry.

- She was looking after my son when he disappeared.

I often felt she held herself responsible

for what happened to him.

- If you don't mind me asking, when did she die?

- Six years ago,

in a climbing accident.

- Who was this woman?

- Just someone I met.

Westies.

I've got one,

I had one myself.

- Yes, we know.

They told us.

- I buried him up on Ben Ben.

A lovely spot.

My friend John's making him a wee stone

that we'll place there when I get back.

He was called Jock.

- That's a common enough tag for a Westie.

This wee one's called Jock, too.

- Jock's the last of Judy's litter.

And, well, Susan and I were wondering if you'd.

- Oh, me?

- Who's this?

- Isobel, this is Jock.

- Hi, you.

- Now Jock, too.

Take us in, will you?

- And I'm telling you it was all meant to be.

I had a warning.

- Ah, I thought you might.

- Well think about it.

If those men hadn't killed Wee Jock

you would have never gone out after them alone.

If the police had caught them you'd have never known

anything about the wee boy, would you?

- What if I'd have killed them before they told me?

- Ah, you wouldn't have done that, would you?

What will I play, Hamish?

- Play something sad, Johnny.

Play something sad for Wee Jock.