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I said I'd handle Freddie!

Talk!

Give me the knife.

Charlie. Give me the knife!

No.

Talk. Stop.

Talk!

OK. Stop. Stop. You're gonna fucking kill him.

What should we do then?

You're dead.

We get the fuck out.

You conniving minge!

Whoa. Careful.

Don't upset the coffee.

I was dreaming.

I'd hate to see your nightmares.

Hey, you know what?

I'm gonna help you start breakfast this morning.

You don't have to.

Well, I want to.

And if you want to get a job,

whatever it is you want,

I'll support you.

Jesus, what's got into you today?

Maybe it's th-this Whelan fella.

What's that?

Well, you know, he had two daughters in England?

Really? Yeah.

He's over here in some shite hotel with a prostitute

doing God knows what.

And then he gets himself killed.

And what for?

And these post-mortems, Shell, they know what you ate last.

They weigh your heart. And they weigh your brain.

But really, they don't have a clue what's going on deep down inside.

Right.

Derek!

Derek, let's go. Come on, breakfast.

What the... Caitlin, Niall!

What's happening? Nothing.

What are you doing?

I'm making breakfast.

Hey, do you know how much water goes into this muck?

Hey, hey. No, no, no, no.

Oh. No, I'll get that. I'll do that.

Got it. Why is Dad cooking breakfast?

Uh, your dad wants to join us today.

Really? Yeah, is that so unusual?

Kind of is.

Never happened before.

Ah, Niall, what day is it?

Uh, babe? Tuesday.

Babe, the... the hobs are a wee bit high.

No.

I'll get Niall's things, you do the fry-up.

OK. Did you get sacked?

Because you didn't solve the case?

You got sacked?

I did not get sacked, OK?

This... this case, like all other cases, will get solved.

Many cases don't get solved, except for traffic violations.

Is it always like this?

They're just warming up.

Here, come on.

Are you not well?

Yeah, I'm starting to wonder. Did you take your pills?

OK, everybody, take a seat. Breakfast is served.

Dad, can we get plates? I'm not having breakfast.

I'll have an apple. You're having breakfast today.

I'll be late if I don't leave now.

You will not be late, OK?

You're gonna have breakfast with us.

Then I'll give you a lift to school. There are no plates.

But you don't have to.

It's settled, OK?

I'm giving you a lift. I board to school.

For fuck's sake. Did you hear a question there?

Get a plate and have some breakfast.

There are no plates.

Hey, Niall, come get your medicine.

Sorry.

You did that on purpose!

Ryan!

Come on.

You twos are dead.

I like you.

You fight with your brain.

Can I have a lift from Dad too?

Not today, Cait. Go on, go brush your teeth.

What?

Is he my dad?

The one next to you.

No, no, no.

Dad is your dad.

He was just... my boyfriend for, like, a minute.

I was very young.

I was careless, a little wild.

I got pregnant.

We're off.

Next time I offer to do breakfast, don't let me.

Ta. Be safe.

Does Dad know? Of course.

We know everything about each other.

You know, when I f-found this the other day,

it made me really sad.

Where's your baby?

She, erm...

She'd be about 20, I guess.

But I lost her.

Lost?

How do you lose... A miscarriage.

You know, sometimes, when there's something wrong or...

..when the baby's sick, a woman's body just knows.

And the pregnancy ends.

You lost her?

A girl?

Yeah.

That's why I was so thrilled when I got you.

That's a sad story.

Yeah.

Hi. You're so perfect.

So, what's the craic?

Hey!

What? So, what's the craic?

Nothing.

Well, you know you can, um...

Uh, well, you can talk to me, yeah?

Man to man.

I hear you fancy a girl and...

Are you and Shelly getting divorced?

What?

Now, where did that come from?

Divorced my mum.

Yeah, but that was different.

You cheat on her too?

I...

I was very young when I met your mum.

You're not young anymore.

Relationships are complicated.

Alright? Shelly and I are not divorcing.

Till death do us part.

All I'm trying to say here is Shelly loves you.

She loves Niall and Caitlin.

I remind her too much of you.

You OK, love?

Can a girl ask someone to the dance?

Of course.

Girls don't need to wait to be asked.

We have made some progress.

But what if the other person doesn't go to my school?

I think that's fine, as long as it's OK with his parents.

Who is it?

It's...

..Emma.

She says in Wisconsin, girls ask girls all the time.

Oh.

Do you... do you like Emma?

Why would I ask someone I didn't like to the dance?

No, I know you like Emma.

But do you, you know, do you f-fancy her?

Can I not ask a friend to the dance?

Of course. Of course.

We'll, uh, we'll have to get you a new dress. Or pants.

Trousers.

Or whatever. Whatever.

Yeah. OK.

Detective Uba.

"Detective Uba"? You being held hostage, Jason?

I'm just dropping my son off to school.

We, uh, found Mariama.

Do you mind just holding for a second?

Who's Mariama?

What are you doing?

You'll have to board the rest of the way.

Seriously? I'm already late.

I've got to follow up on this.

If anyone questions you at school, you just tell them that.

Yeah, that my dad has his head up his fucking hole. Prick!

Ah, Derek.

For fuck's sake.

What happened? She drown?

Martin does not deal in speculation.

But she was found in the water, her neck was broken.

Most likely dead before the tide took her.

Jesus. So...

Some kid found her bag at the edge of the cliff walk.

So, she fell from the cliff?

Suicide?

Sure.

What? You think she was pushed?

I think she was probably thrown like a bag of rubbish.

We've secured the walk and the overlook, looking for any clues.

I thought you'd want to see this.

Property of Measle-fuck.

Still think she killed herself?

And what's this on the calf?

Is that another magpie?

Maybe, abstracted?

Well, you're the bird expert.

Ornithologist?

I'm not expert - enthusiast.

Ornithophile.

Hold on. I'll get a photo.

Go ahead.

There's a new twist in the UK man

found murdered in Ireland last week.

A source inside the police force confirmed...

A source inside the police force confirmed that the victim,

Mr Philip Whelan of Newcastle, was, in actuality,

the fugitive Mr Charles Lynch, with ties to the London area.

Mr Lynch was a petty thief and drug dealer,

who disappeared shortly after the brutal murder

of Freddie Vance, a Northern Irish gangster in the late 1990s.

The deceased was the older brother

of the New Labour Party's tough-on-crime candidate,

Mr Rory Lynch.

Blah, blah, bloody fucking blah.

Are you going to read the Times to me every morning, sir?

"The source spoke on condition of anonymity,"

"as they were not authorised to speak publicly."

They spoke on condition of anonymity, sir.

I identify as she/her.

I identify you as a bloody fucking slag

who doesn't know she/her fucking place in this organisation!

I don't care if Rory Lynch was the second coming of Jesus himself.

His brother and his lot murdered my CI to stop him

from revealing names of corrupt officers

within the London police force.

This will not end well for you, Crichett.

It began well enough.

I, Gwendolyn Crichett of the London police force,

do solemnly and sincerely declare and affirm

that I will well and truly serve the Queen

and preserve and prevent

all offences against all people and property.

And while I continue to hold said office,

I will discharge all duties thereof faithfully according to law.

Bloody Christ, Ames.

Are you a fucking house elf?

Garret deserved that lashing, ma'am, for assuming...

I am the anonymous source.

Top bleeding drawer, ma'am.

Yeah, well, I never crossed a bridge I didn't want to burn.

I've wined and dined you.

What are you gonna do for me?

I'm gonna fuck your brains out.

So, you run everything out of here?

Drugs, money, toys.

Aye. The whole shebang.

The MDMA you bring from Amsterdam,

another girl brings cocaine from Colombia,

another smack from the Turks

and cannabis from Jamaica.

Freddie's harem.

You, my little minx, are but a small cog in a big machine.

When am I gonna see your big machine?

What the fuck?

What the fuck, Charlie?

I had a plan!

You'll be wanting to thank me now.

I feel like I'm always thanking you.

Mmm. Preliminary forensics analysis discovered mystery DNA

on a few of Whelan's items.

Matched with your Shelly's.

I didn't use her name, obviously, just a reference number.

But that curry drop-by almost cost us the case.

You're welcome.

Wait a second. You can't be back here.

Thanks. EILEEN: Don't touch me!

Sorry, ma'am, come back this way, please.

Sorry, ma'am.

Sorry. We're back this way.

Don't touch me!

Uh...

You said you'd help.

It's OK, Pat. Help who?

Zelma.

What happened to Zelma?

They took her children.

Yeah, that's not our call.

Bollocks.

You're a liar!

We'll look into it.

We did nothing wrong.

What the bloody hell was that?

Apparently, the Albanian's children have been removed from their home.

Zelma. The Albanian has a name.

I'll go talk to Eileen.

It's been almost a week.

OK, I want an update on your case by the end of business.

Yes, sir.

What? Uh, nothing.

Uh, just you didn't... you didn't say goodbye this morning.

It felt odd.

Listen, you didn't...

You didn't take a knife from the kitchen, did you?

Why would I take a knife?

Uh, no, just, maybe it's in your room?

I didn't want to go in without checking.

No, I didn't take a knife.

I believe you.

Your dad probably put it someplace weird.

Everything alright?

Look, uh, gotta go.

There'll be other girls.

I promise.

I'll see you tonight, yeah?

Yeah.

Right.

We gotta stick together, yeah?

End of the road for me, love.

Thanks for going so far out of your way.

Not at all.

I could still ring the missus, get her to fix up the spare room.

You're very kind, but I...

My... my boyfriend's expecting me, so...

Right.

Any of these lorries will be catching the ferry

to Hook of Holland.

When are you due?

A couple of months, I think.

Well, prepare to have your life changed forever, for the best.

For the most part.

Good luck to you, Deirdre.

Bye.

Hey.

Hello?

Oh, hi, Moya.

Is everything OK?

Did you really?

Oh, that's fantastic!

Miss me?

Shell?

Shelly?

What is it? What happened?

The... the woman.

The housekeeper, the Albanian.

Zelma. They've rounded up her kids.

I said I'd help her.

And, uh, well, the thing is, I did nothing.

You did your best.

It's not your fault.

And, um... and Mariama, the sex worker.

They found her on the beach a couple of hours ago.

I'm sorry, Shelly.

What for?

All of it.

Everything.

Taking you and the kids for granted.

I wish I could get a do-over.

Do you... do you need me to come to you?

I gotta go.

OK.

Sorry, sir.

Pat.

I didn't mean to bother you, sir, but...

There's a message on the main voicemail left yesterday from a lady

who thinks that she recognised the woman in the sketch.

Good man, Pat.

So, you're a Times subscriber?

Gonna assume that you were not the unnamed source of this story.

I'll try to limit damage on my end, but...

Quiet the source.

This isn't Belfast in the '90s.

I'll do what I can.

Do, Garret, or I will.

Bloody Crichett.

Yes?

DS Mohan. I'm looking for a Miss Flaherty.

Mr Mohan.

I'm one of Niall's physios.

R-right.

Um, Aelish. Yeah.

Yeah, sorry, I didn't make the connection.

That's OK. Uh, come in.

So, you called the station?

Uh...

Well, you did call the station, right?

About the woman in the sketch.

Oh. Erm...

Sorry.

You're alright, Aelish.

I told her I was a terrible liar.

Who?

Told who you were... It was herself.

Herself who?

Hi, Mrs Mohan. Hiya.

It's just in here. OK.

Thank you so much for doing this.

Here it is.

This is it, brilliant.

It's all in here, the whole shebang.

And it's only three years old.

A young lad out in Westport, well, uh, no longer needs it.

So, I spoke up for it right away for you, for Niall.

Aelish here today?

She took a personal day.

Oh, right.

Well, we all need a day off.

And the instruction manual is here.

And I've checked it over.

The vest is very clean.

The air-pulse generator is in grand shape.

Do you want me to go over things with you?

Oh, no.

Our Niall will have that figured out before we get it out of the case.

That one's very clever.

Is cash OK?

I broke the piggy bank.

As long as you didn't rob a bank.

Sorry I couldn't get you a better price.

This model sells new for 15,000 euro.

No, honestly, you're grand. Thank you so much.

This is a lifesaver, literally.

Niall won't have to depend so much on me.

Well, then, I'm really glad that I can help.

Have a good day. You too.

Thank you. Bye.

Jason?

Jason?

Hey, girl. Where's Jason?

I'm right here.

Where?

Oh, hey.

Listen, I know you've had a day,

but they found one of those vests for Niall.

It cost hardly anything... Were you with him?

Niall?

No, he's at school.

Not Niall.

Your fella.

What fella?

The fella you were riding last Wednesday at the Glencara.

Don't fucking lie to me.

Aelish told me she saw you, sneaking around.

Who is he?

Who is he?

I'm not gonna say.

Is it the yank?

Matt?

God no.

Who then?

Is it my brother?

Do you even hear the shite coming out of your mouth?

Well, I want his name.

Do you want to give me the names of all the women you've shagged

since we've been married?

You can skip Fiona.

Ah, so she's why you've done this?

Done what?

Shagged someone in a fucking manky hotel.

Maybe.

Maybe?

Why do you do it?

Hmm?

Why do you go with other women?

'Cause I'm fucked up.

Shell, right? I'm fucking stupid.

OK.

Are there others?

No.

Never.

Well, then why?

Why?

Maybe I wanted to know what it felt like, to do whatever I want

with whomever I want wherever I want.

Not worry about the shops and the physio and the GAA

and the fact that your teenage son had his heart broken.

Well, I talked to him today.

Oh, OK.

So, you made one breakfast, drive him to school,

and once again, you're the hero.

Will you see him again?

No.

Does anyone else know?

Aelish.

Fuck Aelish.

Besides bloody Aelish.

Did you tell anyone?

Who would I tell?

If O'Connor finds out that you, my wife, was at the same hotel,

on the same fucking floor...

Now, I'd ask you if you knew anything about who killed your man

in room 223, but I'm assuming you were too busy fucking

to notice anything.

Fuck you, Jason!

Fuck YOU!

Fuck.

Prick!

This news comes as much of a shock to myself

as to all of you.

I last communicated with my older brother almost 20 years ago

when he rejected our middle-class upbringing and chose instead a life

of drugs, crime and violence.

Your brother was accused of murdering Freddie Vance.

Have you spoken to his brother?

Adam Vance and I have never spoken.

He swore that he would hunt down and kill those

who murdered his brother.

Do you think he had anything to do with this?

I offered my condolences to Mr Vance on the death of his brother

all those years ago.

How have these revelations impacted your anti-crime candidacy?

I'm on the ballot, not my brother, not my family.

I trust the voters.

Our campaign is about breaking cycles of violence

by holding criminals accountable for their actions.

My regret is, because I thought he was long dead,

I was unable to assist the authorities

in bringing my own brother to justice.

I now ask for privacy and continued prayers.

What was your brother doing in Ireland?

Will you drop out of the race?

Well, I find it hard to believe that an 11-year-old boy

should be in a Garda car by himself.

You need to calm down.

My solicitor will be calling you.

Katie, what happened?

Herself here to laugh at me?

Is that your Billy in the... with the guards?

It must be grand to have a perfect family, Shelly Mohan,

the perfect life.

I want to speak to your superior immediately.

Do you guys know what happened to Billy Ryan?

Um, he brought a knife to school.

A knife?

A knife, did he?

In his backpack.

Uh, someone saw it and, you know, reported it.

It was scary.

This morning, he said he was gonna kill us.

Is it true, Niall?

Mm-hm. That's... that's what he said.

He's always bullying Niall, pushes and trips him.

Has Billy Ryan been bullying you?

Every day on the bus.

None of the other kids do anything about it.

What about Mr Sweeny, the driver?

He doesn't get paid enough to get involved.

Billy won't be on the bus anymore.

He got expelled.

Come on, let's go.

It's a Sankofa. Mariama's bird tattoo.

I googled. It's an African symbol.

A Sankofa.

Still, could be a magpie.

It's not.

It's just a coincidence it resembles Whelan's tattoo.

Yeah, but that's just your opinion.

Alright, what's going on?

Well, here's what I've been thinking.

Whelan wasn't Whelan.

So, maybe Mariama wasn't Mariama.

We don't know who Mariama was.

How can we speculate on who she wasn't?

Exactly.

Yeah.

And, erm, they met each other twice,

so that suggests they already knew each other.

Is this some creative writing prompt?

No, hear me out.

So, maybe... maybe they were involved in the drug trade back in the day.

And Mariama got away from it.

And she was hiding out over here.

As a corva?

Yeah, yeah, because she couldn't get papers.

And then Lynch tracked her down, called her to his room.

And there was nothing stolen,

because... because it wasn't a robbery.

And she kills him because?

Well, why does anyone kill anyone?

Well, they usually have a reason.

And the only two people who know were in that room.

And now, both Lynch and Mariama are dead.

What happened to the witness that saw our mystery white woman?

Nothing.

No, she'd never seen her before.

Couldn't even say for sure if it was the same woman.

So, another dead end?

It would be.

Go-karts, waterslides, animal parks.

It's so cool.

You seriously have to come.

The deers come right up to you.

Deer. What?

Uh... uh, deer.

Uh, deer came up to you. Deer is plural.

That must be an Irish thing.

Where is this place, Emma?

The Dells, it's so cool.

They have this humungous pyramid of people and go zipping

around the lake.

It's so crazy insane.

My grandpa Max has a log cabin on a lake.

You have to take a boat to get there.

He lets you use tools and build retaining walls.

You have to come.

Can we, Mum? Can we go to Wisconsin?

It's hilarious how you say 'Mam'. Why not?

Bye. Bye.

This phase of the investigation is over.

We believe the woman known as Mariama was not a random escort,

but was, in fact, known to the victim.

Now, the nature of their relationship is speculative.

But given Lynch's past and Mariama's decision to kill him,

we believe it was connected to the drugs trade in London

in the '90s.

What makes you believe that there was a personal connection,

Detective Sergeant?

Well, sir, the similarity in these two tattoos here,

I believe to be magpies.

DG Uba tells me that magpies mate for life.

And we think Lynch threatened to expose her,

and that is why she shot him.

And the mystery woman?

We followed up on two separate leads,

but neither of which had any connection to the case.

So, we suspect it was merely a guest using stairs.

The gun used in the murder?

Still has not been recovered.

Yes. Now.

Our prime suspect, known only as Mariama, died following a fall

from a 35-metre-high cliff.

Well, uh, technically, she expired from the sudden impact

at the bottom of the cliff.

Blunt force trauma.

The post-mortem revealed

simultaneous double-cervical fractures.

And liquid absent from the lungs would indicate

that she died instantly, before the tide took her.

And lacking any physical evidence to the contrary,

we believe Miriama either accidentally fell or jumped.

Now, we have no witnesses.

Uh, she may well have deemed suicide the only option,

given how close we were to actually finding her.

So, in summation, we believe Miriama killed Lynch.

And this investigation is now closed.

As a result of this murder investigation,

we have successfully shut down an illicit sex-for-hire operation

at the Glencara Hotel.

Nice work, Detective Sergeant.

Thank you, sir. It was a team effort.

Right.

Onward.

Uh, Detective Garda Uba, a word with your boss.

He's all yours.

Neatly tidied up, Acting Inspector Mohan.

I like the sound of that.

Well, it's not a guarantee, but I'll be making the recommendation

to start the process.

Thank you, sir.

Fiona.

I don't even think Shelly's yank writer could polish that shite.

Maybe we were overcomplicating it.

So, you oversimplified it?

Whatever your man was doing in that manky fuck hotel,

he got himself killed.

So, let's ignore the facts and blame the corva from Africa.

She was a sex worker.

What?

You... you think she circled 'prostitution'

when asked what she wanted to do after the senior cycle?

It's arseways, I get it.

OK, and she was probably tricked.

Yeah, more likely kidnapped and raped.

She was branded.

Operation Quest are already after Mizlov.

Alright, it's terrible, but...

It's a fucking tragedy.

You're very welcome to Ireland.

But it's all we've got.

It's all you've got.

Let's grab a pint.

Just a pint.

Thanks. I'm going home to shower all this off me.

Sounds fun.

You're most of what I'll be showering off, Inspector Mohan.

We interrupt this program with breaking news

in the Glencara murder investigation.

A Garda spokesperson has confirmed that the main suspect,

a Nigerian national, was found dead earlier today,

effectively closing the case.

♪ The rest just fades to black

♪ You're only lonely on your own

♪ You're only lonely holding on

♪ Hold on to what we've got

♪ You're only lonely on your own

♪ You're only lonely holding on

♪ Hold on to what we've got

♪ Let go of what we're not... ♪

You still here?

Just, uh, dotting some 'i's here.

I was thinking of grabbing a few pints. What do you say?

I promised the wife I'd be home for the dinner.

Right.

I was gonna leave you a note.

There's a message from a DCI Crichett from London.

Oh, what did he want?

She said you hadn't responded to her emails or messages.

Right.

So, London comes calling,

and we're just expected to drop everything?

Apparently.

800 years, yeah.

Ta.

Good luck, Pat.

You have three unheard messages. First message.

DS Mohan, it's DCI Crichett from London police.

It's regarding the murder of Philip Whelan ...

AKA Charles Lynch.

I will email you as well with a computer-enhanced photo

of Maggie Gallagher,

who probably is living under an assumed name.

Gallagher should be considered your prime suspect in Lynch's murder.

Come back to me ASAP.

We believe she may be living in the Wicklow area.

She may have a tattoo or a scarring from an old tattoo,

which was also her nickname ...

Magpie.

Now, say something.

Ahhhhh.

Mehhhhh.

You sound like a sheep.

You know what would be class, is if we set up a stand outside

and charge people a euro to use it.

Fantastic idea.

That's a terrible idea. It's not a toy.

It's soooo fuuuun, Mum.

That's because you don't need it to breathe.

Have you done a session yet?

Just got it set up.

Can I caaaall Emmaaaa?

Noooooo.

It's almost bedtime.

Take it off. Niall, give her a hand.

I'll give you a head start.

You're all done.

Fuck this. Let's just go.

Come on, let's go.

I'll hunt you, catch you,

and flay you open like a sow.

That's it.

That's a good girl.

Cut me loose.

Mum?

Mum?

It's Dad.

Caitlin, go to bed.

You.

You weren't having an affair.

No.

Never.

I could have.

If you'd let me.

You could have what?

Magpie.

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