All language subtitles for Silent.Witness.S22E07.Deathmaker.Part.One.1080p.HDTV.x264-KETTLE

It's my turn. Watch out!

I'm too fast.
I'm going to get you!

No, you're not! Oi!

Rebecca, Danny, come on.
Stop it.

Right, folks, dinner's served.

Mmm... Not now.

Did you stop for a kebab
on the way?

No, no, no. Food's fine.

Just... Just not much of
an appetite, that's all.

I hope you're not coming
down with something. No.

Can I get you anything, Pat? Do
you want to lie down? - No, he's fine.

Aren't you?

Yeah.

Fine. Fine.

That's the lot.

Are you OK, Mum?

Yeah. I'm all right.
I'm all right.

- Mum, you're crying.
- I'm OK. I'm just tired.

It's just... everything
is so complicated.

OK. What is?

We want dessert!

- Now back to the table, please. Now!
- It's all right.

Come on, children.

Let's see if we can find where your
daddy has stashed the ice cream.

Is it in here?

It's been a pleasure.
Thanks for having me.

Thanks. You're welcome.

See you soon. Night.

Thanks for dinner.

You're welcome.

I'll drive. I've only had two
glasses. You've had three.

What, you were counting?
You certainly weren't.

- I know when I've had enough.
- So do I.

Oh...

Dad?

Sorry, Leslie. Sorry about that.

You know if you ever need to
talk to me about anything... Les...

I'm always here for you.

Where are the kids?

They're upstairs.

Come on, back here.

Jack Hodgson.

DI Quint's expecting me.

Thank you.

Thank you. Thanks.

According to DI Quint over there,
no-one's claimed responsibility.

Nor does the deceased's
background show any indication

of a terrorist connection.

Any secondary devices detected?

No, none.

SCD's decided a homicide team
should carry out the investigation.

No pedestrians around,
other than the family.

The only fatality is the driver.

We're just waiting for
the final go-ahead.

Right, let's go to work.

According to the family,
the bomb went off

when she opened the door.

The blast threw the victim
3 metres 42 centimetres.

The victim is female.

Severe burn damage
to most of the body.

Skin and flesh torn off in pieces.

Death would have been instantaneous.

She never knew what hit her.

The centre of the blast

seems to have been directly
beneath the driver's seat.

Looks very much like an
improvised explosive device.

Damage to the wall, the trees,

combined with the wide
blast radius

indicates quite a powerful
explosion.

Any idea what kind of bomb it was?

Too early to tell.

The DSTL officers must locate every
scrap of the device they can find,

then we piece it together bit by bit.

Thank you all very much now
for coming here this morning.

I'm very proud to announce
the opening of two new offices

on behalf of the Lawson Advisory Group.

We're talking about the
creation of nearly 200 jobs.

One of the offices will
be here in London,

and the other office will
be in Belfast,

and I'm pleased to say that the
Belfast office will be headed up

by my daughter Geraldine.
- Thank you, Dad.

Although we advise banks and
financial institutions worldwide,

Northern Ireland is where we're from.

Has the current economic
situation in Northern Ireland

affected your decision in any way?
- Only in a very positive way.

We're a British company, and proudly so.

Thank you all very much. Thank
you for coming. Mr Lawson!

Mind if I smoke, Mr Lawson?

Hmph! You don't have
to ask every time, Craig.

OK. We've a 7:30 with
the fiscal committee

and then at 9:50... We
may win a battle...

but eventually we will lose the war.

What are you talking about, Dad?

Ah, nothing.

Just the rumblings of an old man.

When old men rumble, I listen. Hmm...

These last 20 years...

business has grown.

Borders have just disappeared.

Everyone, including me,

has been so busy getting on...

as to forget the past.

Forget the dead.

Nothing has been forgotten, Dad.

Sometimes I wonder...

have we settled for peace too soon?

Don't worry. Grandad's fine.

We'll all be downstairs in a bit, OK?

We appreciate the shock
you must be feeling,

but we will need to ask
you some questions.

Did Mrs Walsh have any enemies?

No, none.

No-one who might want
to do her harm?

Is that some kind of a joke?

My mum was a primary school teacher.

Who'd want to blow her up?

Mr Walsh?

Your wife normally drive, or did you?

I did. But not last night?

She said that I had one too many.

In other words,
under normal circumstances,

you would have been the one
behind the wheel? - Wait a minute.

What are you trying to ask here?

We're just trying to
establish the facts, Mr Walsh.

This is insane.

My mother was just murdered.

In front of our eyes.

Why are you not out
there trying to find them?

I can't breathe in here.

Sir, you can't be in here.

Oh...

Of course. I'll get out of your hair...

Steady.

Steady. Are you all right?
Oh... Thanks.

Is that a Belfast accent I detect?

Aye.

What's left of it.

You take the accent out of Belfast...

You find anything?

You know who might have done this?

DI Quint will be in touch as
soon as we know anything more.

I'd like you to think back to the
evening before the explosion.

Did anything unusual happen?

Anything out the ordinary?

It was just... a
normal Sunday dinner,

and then...

Oh, God.

It's all right.

Mum and Dad did
seem a bit on edge.

Why was that?

Just making a big deal
out of nothing.

I did see Mum crying
in the kitchen.

Did she tell you
why she was crying?

But, you know, I know them both.

Something wasn't right.

Excuse me.

Mr Walsh?

Has he gone?

No way that old fella could
climb over that, could he?

Oh, no...

Something's happened to him.

Any idea why your father would run?

He's not running.

He's confused.

Anybody would be
after what just happened.

I'll need DNA samples
from you and your children.

What?

Seriously?

You think we're involved?

Purely for purposes of elimination.

Issue an alert for Patrick Walsh.

Ping his mobile for a
possible location.

Hello?

Who got to you?

Right, you little bastard,
let's find out who you are.

Goody.

I love puzzles.

Personally, I'm more of
a Pictionary man.

Oh... Found this near the house.

Initially, I thought it was the
receiver of the detonation signal.

Then it'd be even more damaged.

Disintegrated, even.

It could belong to the victim. Hmm.

Morning.

Comparisons with
antemortem dental records

confirm the victim is
indeed Olivia Walsh.

Torso, arms and legs
charred due to burn damage.

The skin is intact in
some places, but...

Fractures of the ribs,

ruptures of the eye globes.

Oh! Want to have a look at this?

See what you think.

Looks like a crystal of some sort.

Any idea what it is?

No.

We don't know.

Get it tested.

Nikki, do you have anything? Yeah.

The lungs show areas of contusion.

So does the liver.

Transection of the aorta.

Yeah.

Lamellar haemorrhages of the colon.

Tears of the mesentery.

All consistent with
characteristics of blast injury.

Any idea what it is yet?

Crystallised ammonium nitrate.

Part of the explosive?

Semtex is often used as a
booster for ammonium nitrate -

and the making of nitrates was
severely restricted in the mid-'80s.

Bomb-makers used the technique

of extracting nitrates
from fertilisers.

Nitrates that have been subjected
to this extracting method

crystallise in a certain way.

The nitrate fertiliser method

is a recurring feature of
handmade IEDs.

Semen was found on Olivia
Walsh's intimate swabs.

Pat Walsh's DNA doesn't
match the sample.

She was sleeping with
someone other than her husband

within the last three days.

Da, it's me.

What brings you here?

Does a son need a reason
to see his father?

- No, but my son does.
- Uh-huh.

- Who died?
- Nobody died.

Nobody we know.

A case today brought
back some old memories.

Good or bad ones?

Both, I guess.

How old would she be now?

She was, what, eight
years younger than you?

This morning, when I saw
that blast scene...

it all came back
like it was yesterday.

I'm sorry, Da. I didn't... 62.

She'd be 62.

Her birthday's March the 21st.

Yeah. I know.

- How long have we got to stay here?
- Until forensics have finished

examining the house and surroundings.

- When will that be?
- I will tell you as soon as I know.

If you need anything,
if you'd like to talk,

or if you think of something
that might be pertinent,

I'm here for you. Thanks.

"Pat Walsh here. Leave a message."

This isn't like Dad.

Something's wrong.

Men like your father,
they're old school.

He probably doesn't want to
share his grief.

He wants to be left alone.

What's he going to do without Mum?

When she went in for
appendicitis last year,

he was so worried he
practically stopped eating.

Your dad is tougher than you think.

I should go round to their house.

Maybe he's there.

Can you wait till the evening,
when the kids have gone to bed?

None of this makes any sense.

None of it.

It's OK.

It's all going to be all right.

Any progress on the phone?

The SIM card was severely damaged,

but it does belong to Olivia Walsh.

Her service provider's given
us a list of calls

and text messages.

Most of it is just shopping
lists and chatter,

but three weeks ago,

a new number enters the picture.

"Nice to meet you today.

"Hopefully we can have
another chat soon."

And did they?

Two days later.

"Had a lovely time."

Sounds innocuous to me.

But it's signed kiss, kiss, kiss.

What about the number
that sent the text?

It's registered to the
Hyde Park Mini-Marathon -

an annual charity race.

I'll tell Quint.

They have a few phones
allocated to volunteers.

Any records of who would have
this phone on the day in question?

No, but they do have a list of
people who volunteered that day.

Let's split up. Door-to-door time.

- Got anything?
- No, sir, not yet.

- Three left.
- OK. Let me know.

"Hello?"

Mr Alex Harris? Yeah.

I'm DC Anderton.

- Can I have a word, please?
- Yeah. Sure.

Hi. Mr Harris,
do you know this woman?

That's Olivia.

Is she all right?

Can I come in and
ask you a few questions?

- Sure, but I've got...
- It won't take long.

Yeah. Come on in.

Sir, I've located the user of the phone.

Mr Alex Harris.

I met Olivia in the park.

I run there regularly, so
I see her all the time -

and occasionally, I volunteer for
the Hyde Park Mini-Marathon.

Mr Harris? Oh...

Yeah. So I suggested
that she take part.

What kind of relationship do
you have with Olivia Walsh?

I just told you, didn't I?

If you agree to it, Mr Harris, I'd
like to take reference mouth swabs.

I'll agree to it if you tell
me what this is about.

Olivia Walsh is dead.

She was murdered.

H ow? Her car exploded.

The car bomb that was on
the news this morning?

No rush, Mr Harris.

Put out your tongue.

I can tell you what
you're going to find.

We had sex.

Maybe three times.

She was lonely and she had issues.

What kind of issues?

No idea.

Olivia initiated the affair.

Although she didn't seem
to really enjoy herself.

I know it sounds bizarre.

It was almost as if she was doing
it because she felt she had to.

She felt compelled to
have sex with you?

I know it seems strange.

When was the last time
you had sex with Mrs Walsh?

Three days ago.

After, she said it would
be the last time.

Mr Harris...

where were you on the
night of Sunday the 15th

between the hours of 6pm and 9pm?

I was in my office working late.

I run an architectural
firm, so I often work late.

Alone.

We're going to need your mobile,

and to check your offices.

Yeah.

Yeah, sure.

Dad?

Dad?

Oh!

Thanks.

Where's the body?

It's not been located yet.

The amount of blood loss and
the blood trail by the door,

I think it's highly unlikely
the victim walked away.

Signs of a struggle.

Which moved to here.

The appearance and
distribution of the blood

could suggest impact spatter from
some form of blunt-force trauma...

with the victim probably
in a standing position.

Possible arterial bleeding,

the victim close to the floor.

No...

Looks like expirated spatter.

Then the victim is moved across the floor.

Yeah...

but only as far as here.

What then?

Victim's lifted from the floor,
transferred into or onto something?

There was a second car.

Five-year-old dark-blue hatchback.

Neighbours said they saw
the car drive away

and return yesterday
afternoon. Take a look? Come on.

What's wrong, Dan?

I want to go home.

I know, but we've just got to
stay at the hotel a little bit longer.

I'll never see Polar Bear.

Polar Bear is going to
be waiting at the house

nice and safe when you get back.

No, he's not,

because we're never going home
again. Of course we are, baby.

How about, when we get back the hotel,

you get to pick a cool film to watch,

and he will be there when we get back, OK?

I want to see Polar Bear...
I know you do.

How's it all coming along?

The DNA profiles obtained from the
blood samples in Pat Walsh's house

all match Pat Walsh himself.

Toxicology?

Toxicology shows presence of
gemcitabine and capecitabine

in Walsh's blood.

GemCap?

Cancer drugs? He was seriously ill.

Also presence of warfarin,

so maybe blood clots or
a heart condition as well.

His GP might have more
information. I'll check it out.

This assault on Walsh...

it feels different
from the bomb attack.

It feels savage. Impulsive. Personal.

Whereas the bomb attack was
meticulously planned and executed.

At a distance from the victim.

Might suggest two
different perpetrators.

Anything? Nope.

Car's just been cleaned,
it's spotless.

Clarissa. Jack.

The stain inside the suitcase
was blood. Pat Walsh's blood.

So the suitcase could have
been used to transport the body -

but where to?

And why return it to the house?

They also found the
remnants of packing tape

impacted on the wheels
of the suitcase.

The tape has a distinctive
green and white logo on it -

it looks like company branding.
So I ran a few searches.

Any results?

Yesterday afternoon? Uh-huh. Around four?

No idea, I'd have to check.
Do you need proof of identity

to rent a storage unit? No.

So, theoretically, you can rent
under the name of Muhammad Ali?

Who's he?

Does this man have a unit
rented with you?

Well, I wasn't on watch, but I can
check with Zach tomorrow morning.

Or, um... I can do it now.

Now is good.

Looks like the same suitcase as the
one from Walsh's house. Mm-hm.

Exits ten minutes later.

So...

you bring a suitcase and you're
not dumping anything in the unit...

Taking something from the unit.
Boom-boom. What, though?

Crate of cold lager?

Wrapping of some kind.

Trace of a serial number, maybe?

He's heartbroken.

How could we have forgot
his polar bear?

- I'll go get it. - You will not.
We don't know what's going on.

Whatever it is, has to do
with Mum and Dad, not us.

Les, you're not going. I'm
going stir crazy here, Marie.

I'll be OK.

All right, really.

Pat Walsh's GP confirms he was
a sick man, pancreatic cancer,

advanced stages. He was receiving
chemo and radiation therapy.

Well, that explains the GemCarb.
What about the warfarin?

That's where it gets interesting.

Apparently, Walsh also had
stomach ulcers -

warfarin would be contraindicated.

So why is it present?

Well... Was Walsh endangering
his own life? Possible.

Maybe someone was giving it
to him without his knowledge.

I'm, er, I'm Mr Walsh. It's
my house. just need to pop in.

Sorry, sir, no-one's allowed in.

Um... look, it's my son's favourite toy.

It's kind of an emergency,

I'd just really appreciate it...
I'm sorry, sir.

OK, yeah.

Thanks.

I measured some of the
trajectories of the blood spatter

on the walls. I estimated
from the impact spatter

that the initial assault was
about a foot from the wall,

approximately six foot from the floor,

Pat Walsh's head height.

We then have what looks like
arterial bleeding down here,

potentially suggesting
a change of weapon.

Then, the coughed-up blood.

This could correlate with
suggested injuries sustained.

Now, although there
were signs of a struggle...

there were no bloodstains
between these two areas,

so, from the couch
to the living room door,

from the living room
door to the front entrance,

he left no blood trail,

despite sustaining an
arterial bleed. Not impossible.

No, but it's very unusual.

Right, so I analysed
the plastic fragment

retrieved from the fridge
found in Walsh's storage unit.

I found a possible source.

A blood bag? Correct.

So, Walsh possibly stores
bags of blood in the fridge?

Why?

Whose blood?

Blood stored in blood bags needs
an anticoagulant of some sort.

Toxicology found the presence
of warfarin in the blood

in Walsh's house.

Warfarin is a potent anticoagulant.

So, Pat Walsh secretly stores
bags of his own blood? Yeah.

Yesterday, Pat Walsh goes to
his storage unit with a suitcase.

He transports the blood bags in
the case back to his own house,

where he sprays the blood
all over his walls.

Bastard staged his own death.

What is going on?! Do you
know how upset we've been?

I mean, losing Mum was bad
enough, but for you to just disappear...

What's wrong?

You OK?

Yeah... I'm fine.

What's wrong?

Cancer.

Pancreatic.

I don't have much time left.

Is this why Mum was upset
the other night?

Yes. I need your help.

- We have to do this together.
- Do what?

Find the people who killed your mother.

That's up to the police.

You should get to a hospital.

I'm going to ring Marie, she'll
pick up... She was my wife.

She was your mother.
Now she deserves justice.

Text Marie.

Tell her you are going to take a
few days away from the family.

No, I can't lie to her.

She needs me - and
so do the kids.

She'll never believe me.

Make her believe.

The police and whoever is after
me think that I am dead now.

Now, that buys us time.

Now come on.

Come on.

The spiral is one of the oldest
symbols of justice in the world.

Thought to belong to the
earliest settlers in Britain...

This could be just random
scratchings from the explosion.

Yes, it could be. However,
back in the '80s and early '90s,

this was the unofficial symbol
of a Loyalist organisation

that went by the name of The Guild.

Hm, The Guild supposedly consisted
of a group of powerful politicians,

police officers, members
of the business community

who allegedly sanctioned
political assassinations.

Its existence was never proven.

Investigative reporter Orla Flanagan

wrote several articles about
them, citing an inside source.

No names were ever mentioned,

and the group was reportedly
disbanded years ago. Bloody hell.

I'll follow up on it.

The wheels are turning in
Hodgson's head. That obvious?

Can practically hear them
whirring. What's on your mind?

I, er, just remembered, I've got
to meet up with an old friend.

I know that look, you're up
to something, Jack Hodgson.

And what might that be,
Clarissa Mullery? I don't know.

But I'm sure I'll find out
over the nice cold G&T

that you are buying me.

Jack Hodgson! You haven't changed a bit.

Orla Flanagan, you have! For the better!

Still full of charm and flattery, I see!

Not to mention rugged good looks.

Tell me about it! The crush
I used to have on this fella!

Never got anywhere with
Mr I-have-to-study. All right.

Clarissa Mullery,
I'm a colleague of Jack's.

Nice to meet you, Clarissa.

Orla...

Ah... Orla...

we need to pick your brain
about something.. Pick away.

It's about The Guild.

Can I assume this is
something to do with your work?

And you're going to say
we can't talk about it...

If it has a bearing on a case,

why am I talking to two forensic
scientists and not the police?

You may well get a visit from the police,

but this here now is just two
old mates having a drink.

What do you want to know?

Do you think it's possible
it might be active again?

I've not heard anything
that would suggest that, no.

You had an inside source. Jack...

you know better than to ask
a reporter to reveal her source.

I'm not asking you to reveal anything.

All I'm asking is... might it
be possible to re-establish

contact with that source, to find out?

I know The Guild has
personal meaning for you...

but I was getting phone
calls threatening to put

a bullet in the back of my head.
I know.

You think it's too dangerous,
don't do it.

I don't mind the danger...

but if I'm to go opening up doors
again that nobody wants opened,

I need a better reason than
a favour to an old mate.

I think what Jack's trying to say,

in his graceful, understated way...

is that the information
that you provide

might potentially save lives -
that is a good reason, isn't it?

She's good.

Hi, this is Les Walsh.

"Please leave a message, I'll get
back to you as soon as I can."

When you were growing up back in Belfast,

did people ever talk about The Guild?

Talk? It's Northern Ireland,
people never stop talking.

And you believed that it
existed? I believed a lot of things,

not all of them turned out to be true.

What about your family? Your dad?

Where exactly are you
going with this, Clarissa?

I'm just wondering if there
are any personal insights

into The Guild that you could offer.

Mm... Well, my personal
insight is this...

Go to bed, I'll see you in the morning.

"I'm really sorry, but I
need some time on my own,

"don't worry, I'm fine."

I will issue an alert for
your husband and the car.

Try not to worry.

There is also something
you need to know, Marie...

we think your
father-in-law might still be alive.

All that blood - I thought...

Pat may have been in
touch with your husband.

I don't understand. Why?

We don't know, but we
will monitor your phone,

in case Les rings again.

Mummy? Hello, you. Let's go
in. When's Daddy coming back?

Mummy? Hello, you. Let's go
in. When's Daddy coming back?

Orla Flanagan. I checked up on
those articles she wrote on The Guild.

Interesting reading. Aye,
Orla knows her stuff.

You know her?

Um... we were college mates.

Well, Flanagan refers to
a source in her article.

If The Guild is active agin,
that source might know.

You'll have to ask Orla.
Hell will freeze over

before a reporter reveals
her source to a police officer.

However, if an old friend were to ask...

I had a drink with her last
night. What did you talk about?

Just asked the same question you did.

Whether Orla establishes
contact with her source or not

is entirely up to her.

So, the thing is, if China
is interested in financing...

in Belfast, that's the
sort of contact we need.

We'll only be about an hour, Craig.

Right, Ms Lawson.

Because the level of finances
that they're talking about...

Hello?

Hello, who is this? Hello, Orla.

What's so urgent that it can't wait?

Were DSTL able to determine provenance?

OK, hang on, let me talk you through this.

So, the detonation trigger is
radio-controlled

instead of the modern
preference of mobile phone.

Also, I detected RDX,
a Semtex ingredient

of a variety widely used by
bomb-makers in the 1980s.

Enough detail to pinpoint an
individual bomb-maker's signature?

Well, the way the wires are
tied and the red electrical tape,

are both characteristic of IEDs
made in South Armagh in the '80s.

Added to that... these tool
markings are like fingerprints.

DSTL could match them up
to the individual tools used -

however, without those tools,

it's a like having a bullet but
no gun to match its ballistics.

So, in answer to your question -

the best they could do
was narrow it down

to these seven possible candidates,

known to have operated in South Armagh.

Looks like Patrick Walsh.
Well, I'll be damned. Exactly.

Taking care of yourself, I see.

Somebody's got to do it!

Still single?

I don't know if you are
being creepy or endearing.

Bit of both, I suppose.

I heard a rumour... that they're back.

I'm long out of the loop.

You're Ken Lawson's chauffeur.

He might pretend to be a businessman,

but we both know he's a
political lobbyist.

Even if I knew anything, I
have no reason to talk to you.

You did, before.

I did, before, because I
wanted our people to know

that justice was being served.
- And now?

Times are different.

Maybe.

For how much longer?

People are scared, no
matter which side they're on.

When people are scared, they
revert to what they know.

Are they back?

I've driven Mr Lawson to a
number of meetings recently.

Some familiar old faces.

Who, exactly?

Doesn't matter.

If the killings start, there's
nothing you can do about it,

you can only stay out of the
way. That's not my style, Craig.

I don't want you stirring
up shit again.

Just leave it alone.

Who are we waiting for?

The less you know, the better.

Dad, I want to help you, but I
am not going in to this blindly.

He's an old friend from back home.

What's his name?

It's better you don't know.

Well, why do you want to see him?
Does he know who did this to Mum?

Maybe.

Dad, this is all so crazy. Why would
anybody want to kill her - or you?

I don't understand it.

I don't know who did this.

We'll find out.

Won't be long.

I don't want you involved
any more than need be.

Oh, Dad... Whoever's behind
this, they are dangerous people.

Yes, I need your help...

but I don't want to
draw you or your family in

any more than need be.

I want you safe.

Niall Molloy - joined the IRA in '76...

first IED attributed to him
went off in County Antrim in '79.

Since then, he was involved
in a total of 12 bombings,

killing more than 60 people,
many of them civilians.

Had a reputation as a
master of the art.

Earned him his nickname:
Deathmaker.

Do you think I could get
a shot of that inhaler?

Yeah! Of course. You're a life-saver.

Several Loyalist paramilitary groups

had Molloy at the top of their hit list,

including the group known as The Guild.

June of 1991 - rumour has it
that Niall Molloy wants out.

IRA hierarchy won't let him.
A few days later - he vanishes.

Now, acting on an anonymous
tip, the RUC find traces of blood,

along with a bloodstained
knife, in an old farmhouse.

Oh, my God. It was established the
blood on the knife matched Molloy's.

But no group claimed responsibility
for Molloy's disappearance,

and that was the end of the
matter. Except, it wasn't.

This is a photo of the real
Patrick Walsh.

According to Irish records, a
Patrick Walsh died in 1989

of natural causes... in County Kerry.

So, hang on, a former IRA
bomber's wife is blown up

with a device which
bears all the hallmarks of...

the bomber's own device,
right down to the detail.

So, either Pat Walsh was
trying to kill his own wife...

Or someone was trying to
make a very clear statement.

What's his name? Rocky.

Does he pack a punch? Aye, sure.

He's a dote.

Slainte. Slainte.

Is this what we're reduced to?

Drinking Irish whiskey
wrapped in a Union Jack?

At least we're alive.

True.

Niall, it wasn't me.

I didn't talk. Then who did?

I don't know.

You know...

there was a time when I
thought it might be our old mates

come back for their pound of flesh...

but, no...

why would the IRA go
to all the trouble

of making and planting a bomb... when
a bullet in the back of the head

would do the trick just as well?

Take your hand out of your pocket.

What?

Niall... the beatings I took
for you in the old days...

I was tortured, I never gave you up!

Yeah...

but this time?

You caved in after three
broken fingers.

Who was it?

I didn't see his face.

Accent?

I don't know.

It was a Brit. He was waiting for me.

Wanted to know if Niall
Molloy was still alive.

Where he lived.

Was he acting on his own,
or did someone send him?

You going somewhere, Mac?

Please... Niall..

Somewhere safe, maybe?

I know you have a bolthole, we all do.

Write it down.

Look...

I won't say a word!

You know that!

I know.

Please... you don't
have to do this!

Niall... I'm begging you!

Please...

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