Original subtitles

A brutal murder was committed in the late summer of 1990.

A pregnant young woman was buried on this beach...

and left there to be drowned by the tide.

Your dad wouldn't have like you working on this.

Well, he's dead, Mum.

You weren't there when he died. Are you trying to make up for that?

You're Tom Stilton, aren't you?

- You worked with my dad. - If you have any questions, why not ask him?

He died of cancer a few years ago.

A group is systematically assaulting homeless people...

and posting videos of the assaults online.

They killed Vera. I want the guys who did it.

- Is that why you called me? - You used to be one of my best snitches.

An old cop I met told me that someone they interviewed was an escort.

Jackie Berglund was her name.

I got some pretty scary phone calls when I investigated her.

Look into a girl by the name of Olivia Rönning.

Nils Wendt. He played a recording of a conversation.

- I know you'll stoop low, Linn, but murder? - No one can tie it to us.

Was that conversation so bad?

It would ruin me and the company if it came out.

- This is Linn. - Nice dressing gown, Linn.

Sleep tight.

The Kinshasa military commander is on the line.

Good. Thank you.

- Joseph. - Hallo, Linn. - Hi - How are you?

- I'm fine, thank you. How are you? -Yes, very fine.

- Very good. And how is Jeanette? - She's at the university now and we are very proud of her.

- Great, great, great. - So what can I do for you my friend?

Yes, we have a problem in the Walikale territory with that landowner.

- Okay, call me back when you're done -All right. - And then we can talk more about the children's hospital.

- Now take care now. - Absolutely. Bye.

Right before 11 last night...

He called again? And played the same conversation?

A bit more this time... Then he talked.

- You talked to him? - No, he commented on my dressing gown.

So he was...?

He must have been watching me. Luckily, Bertil was already in bed.

I think we should contact the police.

I don't.

SPRING TIDE

Jelle?

Hammered tramp thrashed.mov

Hi, Jelle.

Let him be.

Ready?

How are you doing?

Want your tatt?

- Now? - Yeah.

Not with a needle, we'll use this for now.

Pull up your sleeve.

There...

Now you're one of us.

CF?

A tattoo I saw on one of those guys who spend their days killing the homeless.

On the inside of his lower left arm.

- What the hell does it stand for? - No idea.

Okay, I'll ask around.

Why the hell do you run up and down the fucking stairs?

Come on, guys, let's go.

Come on.

Listen to me, Acke.

It'll be fun. You'll make some money.

- Hi. What can I get you? - A hotdog with the works.

Vettan!

Minken!

- Hello, sweetie! - Hi.

It's been ages.

How are you?

- Two blowjobs all night, that's all. - What did I say about that crap?

- You don't have a kid to support, do you? - No.

When the bills are paid, I'm lucky to afford a lottery ticket.

How much fun is that?

Right, back to work.

- Take care. - You too.

- Call me if you need anything. - Sure.

Even just to talk. Anything. Okay?

I promise.

You worked for Gold Card, didn't you?

Why do you want to know?

I'm studying sociology at university and doing a study on escort services then and now.

I understand that things were a bit different back then.

You were mainly sophisticated companions invited to events to make things more festive.

Something like that.

- Were there many girls involved? - Quite a few.

Did anyone look like this girl?

Hard to say... Maybe.

Did she happen to associate with a Jackie Berglund?

I've got to get back to work.

Hello, Acke!

Where did that skateboard come from?

I found it in a skip.

Really?

Are you working tonight?

Yes, I'm afraid so. The restaurant is fully booked.

I'll probably be home late.

This is for you.

Where did that come from?

I cashed in on cans.

Good.

So maybe you won't have to go to work?

I'm sorry, son, I still have to.

Can I help you? We're closing soon.

I'm just looking, thanks.

Are you interested in interior design?

No, not particularly.

Right...

Would you like to take a look at my dresses?

I have both new and vintage.

I don't think they're my style.

Olivia...

Rönning, isn't it?

What the hell are you up to?

Acke...

Time to get up.

When did you get in?

Late.

Did you break a glass yesterday?

Yeah, on purpose.

Why?

I'll make you some sandwiches.

Do you want cheese or sliced meat?

What happened to you?

What?

- You're covered in bruises. - It's from soccer.

- Bruises like that? - Yeah, bruises like that.

I want cheese on my sandwich.

- Hi, sweetie. Am I interrupting you? - Not at all.

- You've been hard at work. - Compensating, you mean?

Please, can we forget about that? I know I was out of line.

- I found Tom Stilton. - Really? Where?

In a rubbish room, homeless and looking a wreck.

How incredibly sad! I had no idea it was that bad.

- Do you think you'll be in touch with him again? - Not if I can help it.

Hello, Elvis. Want to hunt mice at the cottage this summer?

- When are you on holiday? - From 1st of July.

- Will you be coming? - Yes, maybe, if I sort all that.

Do'nt forget the people around you.

After all, it's only an assignment. You have all summer to do it.

- Has Lennie complained? - No, not at all.

Good, then maybe let me decide what's good for me.

- Why are you always so prickly? - Because you're always on my back.

That's not my intention. I'm only trying to be supportive.

You never wanted me to be a cop. Dad was the supportive one there.

Don't be unfair, it wasn't like that.

- That's how it felt to me. - I know.

You always put your dad on a pedestal.

- No, that's not true. - You do.

- And it's so terribly unfair. - Why?

Because Arne worked all the time.

Especially when you were a kid and especially on that damned beach case.

For years! And now you expect me to be supportive...

when you get obsessed with the same case.

It seems almost sick to me!

He would wake up in the middle of the night and spend hours thinking.

Or he's cancel a trip at a few hours' notice...

all because he'd "figured something out".

We were on the brink of divorce because of it all.

- I didn't know that. - No, I know.

Now you do.

- Thanks for coming, Minken. - You know you can always count on me.

So what's the problem?

It's Acke. He's got bruises all over his body.

He says it's from soccer.

-All over his body? - Yes.

At first it was just a few on his back, so I thought nothing of it, but...

Now he's covered in them. I mean, completely...

I played soccer as a boy, for years...

And as striker you do take a beating when in the box, but it sounds...

Want me to talk to him?

- Would you? - Yeah, sure.

Of course. Leave it to Minken.

- We'll sort this out. - Thanks.

How did it go with Walikale?

It's fine. I talked to Joseph. We bartered apples for pears as the saying goes.

You got the land, and he...

he loves topaz. He aslo loves the idea of a children's hospital.

So that's good news.

Linn Magnusson speaking.

It's Nils.

Hello, Nils.

- What do you want? - To see you.

- Okay. Why should we meet? - Because I say so.

Where?

The parking complex at Skanstull. On the roof.

- When? - 11 tonight.

Come alone.

- Here you go. - Thanks.

Listen, Acke...

Here's the deal...

Your mum says you're covered in bruises...

that you blame on the soccer. But I think you're lying.

- What's it to you? - Are you lying?

- I'm not lying. - No? Right...

Put it this way, Acke...

I don't give a rat's if you lie to your mum. I get that.

I lied so much to my poor mum, her head was spinning.

I'm with you on that but between you and me, tell me what's going on.

Acke?

I'm with them.

- CF? What's that? - Cage Fighters.

- What's that? Some kind of fighting? - Yeah.

Where do you do this stuff? Where do you go?

Eh? Acke?

Where do you go?

It's underground.

And how's your sis? - Great, fantastic. It's all great.

- Good, good. Send her my love. - Sure. Will do.

Who's that? - A mate. He's cool.

Okay. See that building over there? There's a bomb shelter down below.

See that door over there? It's supposed to be sealed.

Any other way in?

That's the trapdoor over there...

And there's a ladder inside. You climb down to a grating,

and that's the entry to a shaft. - I get it. And that leads to the shelter?

Yeah, but it's a fucking narrow shaft.

- Yeah, yeah. - With a drop of, like, 15 to 20 metres. - Christ...

- Bloody dark, too. - Okay, gotcha.

- You're not going in that way? It's... - Christ, no! Are you crazy?

- Good, because you wouldn't make it. - I believe you.

- Guess what I've sorted. - The drainpipe?

Two tickets to the opera tonight. Hjalle called. He can't go, so I nabbed them.

- What a shame. I can't go. - Why not?

- I have to go to the office for a meeting. - Come on! Just change it.

I'm afraid I can't.

What's the meeting?

It's a prospecting deal. Some bigwigs from Nairobi are in town.

I'm so sorry, but I can't put it off.

Want some coffee?

No, I want to fuck you.

1. Coat? 2. DNA? 3. The boy? 4. Earring? 5. What have we missed on Nordkoster?

The beach?

I keep thinking "This is the last night" or "the next-to-last"...

Or, you know, "Just one more night, then I'll quit"

- You never do. - No, what the hell can I do? How would I get by?

Just get some regular job! Who cares what?

Like you, you mean? Have you ever had a regular job, Minken?

I worked the Katarina lift for a while.

So you did, but you were fired for charging double, weren't you?

Hell, yeah. Damn lift never ran so well!

Sure...

It wasn't the soccer, Vettan.

Acke doesn't fight.

Acke fights other little boys in a fucking underground cage.

They call it "cage fighting".

There's betting.

When you win a match, your ranking increases.

When you're top ranked, you make a fair sum of money. That's what he's after.

He knows what work you do, Vettan.

And he hates it.

He's trying to earn money so you dont have to turn tricks.

Please, no more...

Look! It's the guy who was fucking in the caravan.

Come on.

- Hit him! - Fucking kill him!

Hi, Stilton. How's it going?

Stilton? Hello?

Tom, where the hell are you?

Shit!

My mate's in a hell of a jam. I have to go.

- Are you okay ? - Yeah, I'm okay.

Stilton?

This is no fucking good. You need to get to a hospital.

- No. - What do you mean, "no"?

- You're beaten to a pulp! - Forget it! Take me home.

Forget it? How can I...

Can you move? The taxi's 20 metres away. Come on.

We've got this. Grit your teeth now...

Damn, you're heavy! That's it.

I'll answer it for you.

- Where the hell is it? - In my pocket.

This is Minken on Stilton's phone. Who's that?

My name is Olivia. Is Stilton there?

- Yes, do you know him? - Yes, he's helping me with something.

- Do you have plasters and gauze there? - Yes.

- Can you bring them, now? - Why?

Because he's been bloody badly beaten.

Hello

Where are you?

On the bloody shelf, Minken. The shelf!

Ah, there. Resin salve, is that it? Mutton fat, alum... What is this bloody stuff?

Just bloody apply it!

- Christ, what happened? - Never you mind.

Are you ready? Here it comes.

All right... There, there... Do you believe in this stuff?

- Do you have any painkillers? - Check my bag.

- I need to lie down. - Take this first.

Then you can lie down. But first take this. Okay. There you go.

Hello, Linn.

It's been a while.

You've aged.

Yeah, it happens.

So you recorded our last conversation in Kinshasa?

Here.

- The conversation? - Well, it's a copy of it.

- Go ahead and listen. - The original?

At a location I'm expected to be at by July 1st at the latest.

If I don't get there, it will be sent to the police.

Are you still married to Bertil?

What do you want? Money?

No, revenge.

- On what? - You.

What for?

I think you know what I mean.

Are you homeless too?

No! No, definitely not. I do a balancing act.

- What does that mean? - I have a wide field of activity.

Capital gains, derivatives, large sums in and out.

And in between I deal in art.

The masters: Picasso, Chagall, Dickens, you name them.

Dickens was a writer.

Yes, he was... primarly.

But he also did a lot of really great etchings when he was young.

Not many know about it. But they're bloody great.

Now I need to have a piss.

Later.

Is Minken an old friend of yours?

An old snitch from a past life.

Soon he'll tell you about how he solved the Olof Palme murder.

Among other things...

Can I just ask... Was Jackie Berglund tied to the murdered woman?

We never found anything.

Is this where Vera Larsson lived?

- So this is where she... - Drop it.

Feeling better?

Are you?

- Yeah, I feel like a fucking prince! - Why don't you go and do that somewhere else?

Right. Nice tone...

Put it this way, many of the crimes would still be on the loose if not for me.

You always need a bloke like me to put the last nail in the coffin.

Anf often the bloke was me. I solved the Palme case too, but to no fucking avail. No one lis...

Hang on, everybody. Excuse me! Is this your car?

Yes.

You're kidding! It's a flipping... It's a Thunderbird!

- Mustang. - Yes, didn't I say that?

Hang on now... Now, I've got a bloody brilliant idea. Listen.

I go with you in your car, we swing by my flat...

we share a spliff and see what happens... Eh?

I've got fresh sheets on the bed, and I swear, Minken is surprisingly well hung!

Take a gamble. You won't regret it!

No, you'll have to take the train.

Hello?

Lennie?

Hello?

Lennie?

Hello?

Subtitles SBS Australia 2016 typing and sync by Arcdepluie