Clean Sweep (2023): Season 1, Episode 3 - Find Her - full transcript
After Lynch's true identity is revealed, a twenty-year-old case tied to Shelly and Charlie with political implications is reopened by DSI Crichett in London.
♪♪ Bring it back to me
Oh, please ♪
♪ It's making me feel so weak ♪
♪ Feeling like a puppet
controlled by some strings ♪
♪ And everywhere I go
is the wrong place to be ♪
♪ Bring it back to me
Oh, please ♪
♪ It's making me feel so weak ♪
Fuck's sake.
Hi there.
Charlie here.
I can't come to
the phone right now, so...
Where the fuck are you, Charlie?
Here I am, fat as a cow,
having to make my own way home.
I'm gonna kill you
when I see you.
Nightmare?
Jesus!
Jason, what's the craic?
It's Saturday morning.
No rest for the wicked.
Gotta find her.
If I find this... this
working girl,
O'Connor will think the sun
shines out of my arse again.
Then I'll get a raise.
And then we'll catch up.
Shall I make you breakfast
before you leave?
No, I'll get something later.
I'm meeting Fiona
at the Glencara.
We're a good team.
You and Fiona?
Me and you, Shell.
You holding down the home front
and me catching the bad guys...
or gals.
What is it with you lately?
You're always out of sorts.
And me the one
under all the pressure.
Sympathy stress, I guess.
Caitlin's game is at 12:00.
So, I figured we'd just
do a Saturday-night chipper.
I won't make it to the shop.
Still strange to think
you were there
at the same time
as our dead fella.
At the shop?
Unless some place else
I'm unaware of.
I'll call you later, yeah?
Wish me luck!
Mag... Maggie!
Further along on the M11,
it's slow approaching
junction 5 Bray North.
And it's moving pretty well
into Kilmacanogue.
Wicklow's weather, mostly dry
with sunny spells today.
Chance of scattered showers on
the coast by this evening.
- It's 7:00.
- This is Seapoint FM.
I'm your weekend host,
Rose Dempsey.
Our top story is still
the mystery murder
at the Glencara hotel,
in which a man...
♪♪ There's nowhere to go ♪
♪ Sting like a bee ♪
♪ When I'm tangled
in a mess of things ♪
♪ And all the trouble
that living brings ♪
♪ Won't go down on my knees ♪
♪ And let it ride over me ♪
Niall, Cait, Derek, breakfast!
Jesus, Niall!
Don't sneak up on me.
- Can I wee in the garden?
- What? No!
Caitlin locked herself
in the loo.
- So use ours.
- Dad doesn't like us to.
Dad isn't home. Go on!
♪ Yeah, I was born
with a wishing heart ♪
♪ No matter what life brings ♪♪
Caitlin, you getting dressed?
Cait?
You OK?
- Don't come in!
- I'll be down in a minute.
Niall, breakfast!
Derek!
I'm meeting Luke
over at Westside.
What, you won't come
watch your sister's match?
It's all right.
Dad said I didn't have to.
Remember what we talked about.
How could I forget, Mom?
- I'm serious.
- Yeah, you're always serious.
I'll have an apple.
What did you talk about?
Nothing.
So, all the bits are in here?
What bits?
Beak, feathers...
Niall, fix this.
It's simple, Cait.
Eggs are just eggs,
unless they're
fertilized by sperm.
What's sperm again?
- Splooge.
- Derek!
Later, losers.
Don't be late.
We're doing the chipper tonight!
Cait, eat something.
You need the energy
for your match.
We'll get this nasty port
out soon, love.
Until the next infection.
Cait, can you
eat something please?
Mmm... there!
I need you both dressed
and ready by 11:00.
Nymeria!
Atta girl.
At least someone
appreciates my cooking.
- Dad doesn't like us to feed...
- Dad isn't home.
Martin, what did
the ballistics tell us
about the weapon used?
Not to be an a-hole,
detective sergeant, but...
Here we go.
Ballistics is the study
of the motion of a projectile.
What bollocks are you
on about, Martin?
Firearms identification does
not directly involve ballistics.
Well, let me ask you
another way, Martin.
What kind of fucking gun
was used?
.35 caliber with no matches
on our system.
You might have led with that.
- I just want...
- What about the bible?
No prints, latent or otherwise.
The good book
is as clean outside as in.
Right.
Well, let's get
everything we don't know
over to our colleagues
in England.
Baxy, you stick on the CCTV.
O'Neill and Gee, you go back
to the surrounding neighborhood.
Keep pounding on doors.
OK, let's go!
This case isn't
gonna solve itself.
Hello?
Mrs. Whelan?
Mrs. Philip Whelan?
- Not in donkey's.
- So, I'm not interested.
Ma'am, I'm detective
inspector Yeates,
Northumbria Police.
Detective?
Special Crimes?
Come in.
What was he doing in Ireland?
I don't have details.
It only just happened.
Is there a new Mrs. Whelan
to talk to?
No, unless he did it in secret.
We've been divorced 9 years.
Other next of kin?
Our daughters.
Daughters?
Wendy and Laurie, 16 and 14.
Did they have contact with him?
They haven't seen him
in a couple of years.
Phil was a shite dad.
My new husband, Jack,
is the girls' real dad.
Did you have a good divorce?
Is that like a good cancer?
Did you kill your ex,
Mrs. Overton?
Go all the way
to Ireland to kill Phil?
No, I'd have done it right here.
Other next of kin?
Siblings or parents?
Phil was orphaned young.
Spent time in foster care.
Never wanted to talk
about his past.
Did he have a flat
or a house somewhere?
This is the address
he had in his passport.
He used to talk
about London some.
I think he lived in Luton once.
You'll need to speak
with the embassy in Dublin
to make arrangements.
The body, it'll need
to be shipped back.
Ex says he used to spend
some time in London.
Go ahead and send
Whelan's prints to HOB.
It's a single injection
like Narcan,
but this shot would unclog
the arteries of stroke victims.
A blood thinner?
No, uh, this would
dissolve the clot.
So, you're pitching
an emergency injection
of drain cleaner, Ames?
Well, I'm not a chemist, but...
But you've unclogged
drain pipes?
DCI Critchett.
DI Yeates, Northumbria.
Switchboard said you were
the one who'd want to know,
it being a cold case.
Know what, DI?
Who Whelan is... was.
- Sorry, Whelan?
- Aye.
Should be on your FINDS alert.
We ran his prints
through the national database.
They matched.
Fuck me sideways.
Figure of speech, James.
Get me up to speed, DI Yeates.
Let's go.
Why aren't you dressed?
I'm not going.
My stomach hurts!
It's like a stitch.
You have to run through it.
Exercise will do you good.
It'll release endorphins.
What are endorphins?
Uh...
Happy hormones.
What if I leak?
I'm gonna bleed
all over my uniform.
My shorts are white!
Ah!
Cait...
Look, we'll put an extra pair
of cycling shorts underneath.
I'll get you painkillers
for the cramps.
And you'll be grand.
Look, I know this feels
like a big deal.
And it is.
I don't mean to undermine that.
But nothing changes.
You keep going onwards.
I don't want to have a baby.
What? No.
Look, sex and
all that stuff can wait.
Sex is gross!
We... Uh, kind of.
Look, we'll... we'll put
your kit on here at home.
No one will know.
You'll be fine!
OK?
Come here.
Where were you?
Hiya, Mags.
Oh, enjoying a tin, are you?
- Look...
- I don't need to look.
I can see.
Have a beer.
I want a bump.
- OK. OK.
- Whatever you want, Mags.
- Don't "Mags" me.
- Why didn't you pick me up?
I heard that bird again.
The narc bird?
Chirp, chirp, chirp.
Trained to smell drugs,
they are.
Thems the drugs
eating your brain, Charlie.
I left the flat to come get you.
And then, "Chirp, chirp, chirp,"
he was following me.
And by the time
I gave him the slip,
it wa... it was late, so...
So you left me alone
like this to make my own way?
You look very cute
like that, fuckable.
Then what are you waiting for?
Do me.
OK.
I want to meet
Freddie face-to-face.
Oh, he's a psycho.
I'm not afraid of narc birds
or Freddie fucking Vee.
But I am tired of taking
all the risk
while he gets rich.
And if you won't do it, I will!
That's my magpie!
Fuck you, Charlie.
Love your fire!
You'll be grand.
No one's gonna know.
What if...
It won't.
Just play your normal self.
You'll be fine.
Knock them dead, kiddo!
I think he wants something.
Hmm?
That's Emma Wilson's dad.
Oh, hi!
We have to stop
meeting like this.
You keep talking shite, we will.
Emma says there'll be
some sort of rumble,
girls with bats?
Uh, hurls.
And you're about
three quarters of an hour early.
Ah! You staying?
Uh, no. But we'll be back.
Slán.
Ah...
How do you know him?
Uh, we baked cupcakes
for the fundraiser.
What are you laughing at?
Dads never bake cupcakes.
They're Yanks.
Can you picture
your dad in an apron?
Well, it's herself...
Bloody Mary.
That's brilliant.
Yeah!
And if the Garda comes...
we can just eat the evidence!
Doireann's on the pill.
How do you know?
She told me.
How'd she say it?
She said, uh:
"Come to mine Sat night.
"Parents are gone
to a christening in Donegal.
I'm on the pill."
Jesus.
Take this.
Johnny?
But she says she's on the pill.
So she says.
Or maybe she wants a baby.
She's 16.
Subconsciously, you know,
like, her ovaries
are running things.
Like our bollocks are
controlling us.
Ha! You're mad.
Besides, the pill
is only 99% effective.
You know what 99% means,
don't you?
It means I'll take my chances!
One baby for
every hundred shags.
We have, what, 5 million Irish?
Couple million shagging
at any given time?
That's hundreds of
"I'm on the pill" babies.
Wear the Johnny.
It's Doireann.
"See you later."
Don't tell me
I threw your back out.
Saturday night,
what's it gonna be?
Homemade pizza?
- Chipper.
- Mmm!
You're giving her the night off.
She doesn't work for me.
Doesn't she?
Are we gonna solve this?
This? Us?
The case!
The fucked if I know.
How many thousands
of drivers do we prosecute
while most gun murders
go unsolved?
Jesus, Fi.
This one is gonna get solved.
Far as we know,
your man doesn't
know anyone local.
Except a curva.
Well, then,
let's go find our curva.
Let's.
How are you?
We're looking for the manager.
Tha-that's me.
Uh, well,
I'm the assistant manager.
But I wasn't here
when that guy got killed.
Where's the other fella from
yesterday and the day before?
Sean McNair.
Sean McNair, he called in sick.
Normal like,
I don't work Saturdays.
What's your name?
Sean. Uh, we're not related.
Right.
Do you know her?
Um...
Here's the thing, Sean,
we know that she's a sex worker
and we just want to find her.
You'd have to ask Sean.
The other Sean?
He offered certain guests,
uh... luxury duvets.
Would you be needing
any luxury duvets?
Knock, knock.
Keep going with your acapella.
Just one.
Who's there?
Alec.
Alec who?
Alec-tricity.
Ah, Niall!
That is terrible.
So terrible, I'm gonna go.
Back in a sec.
I just need to speak
to Maya out front.
Keep going!
Mrs. Mohan?
I was just wondering
if you had any luck
on the vibrating vests?
The airway clearance vest?
Yeah, ah, since he
saw it on YouTube, it's...
That girl in America.
Well, those devices
are very dear,
15,000 euro or more.
And not recommended
treatment in Ireland.
So, my son's quality of life
is not worth 15,000 euro?
What is it worth, 10,000, 5,000?
I don't make HSE rules.
You'd be buying it yourself.
15,000 euro?
Oh, sure, I'll just put that
on my shopping list.
Aelish? Is, uh, Niall done?
Couple of minutes.
Did the Gardai talk to you
about the murder
at the Glencara?
Uh...
They were going door to door
looking for witnesses.
What are you doing here,
Mrs. Mohan?
Uh, no.
Um, did you see anything?
No. Well, I mean, you...
but nothing suspicious.
Did you?
No.
I suppose
you'd tell your husband
if you saw something.
Of course.
Scary, though.
What's the world coming to?
I don't know, Aelish.
Uh...
Did you, um, did you
tell them you saw me?
You?
Oh God!
I suppose I should have.
- Ah, no, you're grand.
- You're grand.
I'll tell Jason that, uh,
I was in the area
and that we spoke
and neither one of us
saw a thing.
Thanks a million!
Oh, no worries!
Well, Whelan's been
all over CCTV.
Nothing from the car park?
Sixteen workable angles
from the inside,
but outside, shite.
More interested in
crisp-knickers than car jackers.
Other Sean lives 30 minutes
east of here, near Arklow.
Grand.
Let's go pay a visit
to the other Sean.
Imagine coming out here
and not even paying a visit
to Dalkey Castle
or the Sugarloaf.
- Pretty boring visit if you...
- Holy shite!
Pause this one.
Who is that...
in front of Whelan?
Her.
Isn't that your missus?
Go on, Cait!
Come on, Cait!
Jesus. Is that woman
everywhere I am?
You made it back
in time for the mayhem.
How is this sport not banned?
"Cross between
hockey and murder."
Ken Bruen.
When my wife said
we were moving to Ireland,
I devoured
the Jack Taylor books.
Well, I think it looks like fun.
It is!
It's good for the head,
good for the heart.
That's our Cait, there.
Pass to me! Here.
Niall, why don't you take
Emma closer to the action?
Go on.
Go on.
Your, um, wife's not here?
Nope. Work.
No rest for the wicked.
So, you do know my wife?
Mom! It's Dad!
You made it!
Fiona.
Mrs. Mohan.
Where's Cait?
Uh, there.
How's she doing?
It's early, Jase.
She's mostly just jogging around
hoping and praying
the sliotar doesn't find her.
When she's on the pitch,
she's gotta be on the pitch.
She's a bit out of sorts.
Female trouble.
Congratulations.
What?
She got her period yesterday.
Oh, why didn't you tell me?
Well, I...
Get in, Cait! Come on!
Get in the fight!
CCTV from your Supermarket
came in.
My Supermarket?
I wish it was,
the amount I spend there.
Well, the funny thing is,
the CCTV shows our victim,
Mr. Whelan, following you.
Following me?
Well, not following,
so much as he was near you
a couple of times.
But maybe, you might have
noticed him talking to someone?
Are you here for work
or for your daughter?
Well, two birds, Shell.
We were on our way.
We were passing
on the way to Arklow.
You didn't recognize him
in the photo we had.
I didn't.
But when you didn't
see him in the supermarket,
he had a beard.
Our sketch man added a beard.
Would you like to take a look?
I never seen him
before in my life.
You didn't notice him
standing right beside you
at the butcher's counter?
- No, that was yours, Cait!
- Get in there!
There's another bit.
Looks like he's waiting
for you to leave.
Hey, Shelly, I think
your daughter's team scored.
Oh!
Look, I wish I could help.
But I'd like to watch the match.
Bloody Mary!
Get off me! Get off me!
Come on, girls!
We better roll, Jay.
You can't stay for
the half-time whistle, Jason?
Can't.
We've got this thing in Arklow.
I'll see you, Cait!
Yeah, later, yeah?
Your husband's not staying?
Uh, he's working... a case.
He's a cop?
Mmm!
Everything OK?
Yes, grand.
You want to come
to dinner tomorrow night?
And your husband, the kids,
dog or cat if you have one.
I'll throw burgers
on the barbecue.
Uh, t-tomorrow, um...
actually, we're going
to a barbecue
at Jason's brother's house.
There'll be a bonfire.
You should come.
B-bring Emma and...
- Lighter fluid.
- Your wife.
- You bitch!
- Oh!
Who's bloody now?
Aargh! Bitch!
Fight, fight, fight!
Caitlin Teresa MaryAnn Mohan,
what on Earth got into you?
Sinéad.
- She called me...
- She called you what?
Bloody Mary.
Well, she's just jealous, love.
She's just a bitch!
Well, that's as may be.
But you can't just
go attacking people.
Come on.
What's her name, other Sean?
Look, a... a... a fella
wants company,
I... I... I call a number.
That's all I know.
We have her
slipping you 20 euro.
That makes you a pimp,
maybe even a sex trafficker.
What? No!
I... I... I... I think herself, um...
Mariama, I think her name was.
"Duvets." Cute.
- Can I go now?
- Nope.
But what about what...
Well, we gotta find
your Mariama first.
B-but what about my mom?
We'll let herself know
that you're staying
the night with us.
There.
It's not the Glencara,
but we'll find you a nice kip.
What you're telling me
is a man who's been presumed
dead for nearly 2 decades
is now confirmed dead?
Murdered.
It's an open case
in Ireland, sir.
It's a bleeding cold case
from a dark time.
No one cares.
Can you even murder a dead man?
Charlie Lynch
and his accomplices were...
Killed a murdering drug dealer.
I know the case.
1999 was a lifetime ago.
Frankly, Lynch and his lot
did London a favor.
I'd like to
interview his brother,
see if they were in touch.
Are you out of
your fucking mind?
There's an election on.
Unless, maybe you think
Rory Lynch had
his brother murdered.
"I got rid of
my own tosser brother.
Think what I can do for Luton."
We still haven't found
Margaret Gallagher.
This is the only
known photograph
taken some time before
Alfred Vance was killed.
As far as we know,
she's out there too.
Or she was chopped up
and stuffed into a barrel
20 years ago.
Their victim,
Alfred Vance, was my CI.
I put him in that situation.
His death is on me.
If the press asks about it...
Freddie Vance was
a low-life drug dealer.
His death is on him.
Let it go, Crichett.
I'm not hungry.
Caitlin, you have to eat some...
We have
to stop meeting like this.
Go on, eat in front
of the telly.
Seriously?
Go, before I change my mind.
Serviette.
Hello?
Did you know
your brother was alive?
You there, Rory?
I'm here.
Do you know
who you're talking to?
Judging by your accent,
I can guess you're
a relative of Fred Vance.
He'd be my younger brother.
So, did you know
about your brother?
Until a month ago,
I assumed you and your lot
had done Charlie years ago,
like you did Doyle.
I had fuck all to do with this.
So, who did then?
- Don't know.
- Don't fucking care.
Then why are you calling me?
Your brother
leads to my brother.
Neither you nor I need
the press to dig up the past.
My brother and I
have lived different lives.
Explain that to the voters.
If you didn't do this...
if you didn't know
he was living as Philip Whelan,
then how do you know
Charlie was killed?
I have ears.
Your brother's dead.
My brother's dead.
Let's leave the past
where it is.
That didn't take long.
I assume you're calling
about Philip Whelan.
I won't ask how you knew
he was your brother.
And I won't ask how
a politician from Belfast
found out before me.
I had no idea
my brother was alive.
And you had no idea
what he was doing in Ireland.
It's not a question.
If you do know,
keep it to yourself.
I'll handle this end.
You just get yourself elected.
Esmé?
It's Gwen Crichett
from the London Police Force.
We met a couple of years ago
when you did that piece
on the Tower Bridge stabbings.
I'm working a cold case
from the 1990s.
What if it involved
Rory Lynch's brother?
I'm unable to comment.
But Rory Lynch might know.
Cheers.
Fucking stepmom.
I swear she has
Spidey-sense or something.
Didn't know you were a virgin.
I'm not.
Your lady-o-the-palm
don't count.
You should probably go.
Maggie.
Ah, come on, babe.
Fuck you, Charlie.
I'm tired of taking
all of the risk
for none of the profit.
I'll talk to Freddie.
Yeah, right.
Open the door.
Let me come in!
Why am I the only one
with balls in this relationship?
What's got you
all riled up, Mags?
We've got a good thing going.
OK, look, it's Saturday night.
Let me nip around
to the chipper.
That always cheers you up.
Back in 5!
How did it feel?
How did it feel?
What's wrong, love?
What's it like...
feeling a baby in you?
Oh, it's, um...
weird...
wonderful...
scary.
I don't want one.
Ah, Cait!
No.
Look, I know people say,
"You're a woman now,"
when you get your period,
but you're still
just a little girl.
My little girl.
You're way too young to be
worrying about this stuff.
How old were you?
Um...
Well, I... I was
with your father, so...
You've had a long day.
Why don't we talk
about this tomorrow?
I'll answer
all your questions then.
Go on, go to bed, love.
Ah, bollocks!
Did you not eat something out?
I forgot to.
Were you sleeping?
Big day.
Here.
Thanks.
Ah...
OK, so, spill it.
(Groaning
Well, our Cait got red carded.
Raging hormones and mean girls,
not a good combo.
Jesus.
- So, it's starting.
- Mmm!
I handled it.
But you may have to have
the talk with your son.
The talk?
Mmm!
- Sex?
- Mmm!
How old is Niall?
Derek.
Oh, between what I've already
told him and the Internet,
I'm sure he knows the basics.
Well, he fancies a girl.
Unless you want
to be a granddad soon,
I suggest you have the talk.
Yeah, it's... it's late.
Well, not now, you idiot.
Besides, he's staying at Luke's.
That's if he's not lying.
He didn't ask.
He texted me,
and then he switched
off his phone.
I'm not letting him
treat me like that.
Well, like what?
Like a teenager?
He's being a complete
dickhead to me again.
Well, you're not his mom, so...
Mmm!
Maybe he should go
and live with Grainne then.
She still acts like a teenager.
They'd get along grand.
I didn't mean it
to come out like that.
Derek's just being Derek.
And then there's Niall.
- What about him?
- You know the breathing vest,
he wants the one
he saw on the girl?
HSE won't cover it.
Maybe he doesn't need it.
Maybe it would help.
How much does it cost?
15,000 euro.
We could sell the car.
No.
I'll get it.
How?
Where? When?
Soon.
That's why I need
to solve this case.
So, you know Philip Whelan?
- Hmm?
- Our dead fella.
Get this...
he wasn't Philip Whelan.
Uh, what do you mean?
Who was he?
So, it will be
in the news tomorrow.
His actual name was Lynch.
And he's been missing in the UK
for 20 years, presumed dead.
Oh...
What was he doing here?
That is
the million-euro question.
God, chips don't
microwave for shite!
What happened in Arklow?
Did you make an arrest?
Mmm!
Tomorrow, touch wood.
Yeah, can't wait to see
O'Connor's face.
He never believed in me.
Mmm!
And then he'll have
to make me detective inspector.
And with the salary increase,
maybe we can get
Niall's fancy vest.
Mmm! Mmm!
All right.
Why don't you go on up to bed?
Ah!
Ha! A red card, huh?
Mmm!
Category 3, one-game suspension.
Now, what did our Cait do?
She dragged her teammate
around the pitch
by her ponytail.
- Her teammate?
- Mm-hmm!
Red carded against
her own teammate?
Fair play to her.
I shouldn't laugh,
but what that girl
said to our Cait...
You'd have done the same.
I'm gonna shower
and hit the hay.
- Ah, Jesus!
- What?
Kevin's barbecue thing
is tomorrow.
I completely forgot.
I remembered.
Hmm.
You're dead.
I'll give you a head start.
But I'll hunt you,
catch you and flay you
open like a sow!
You conniving minge!
That's a good girl.
Oh, please ♪
♪ It's making me feel so weak ♪
♪ Feeling like a puppet
controlled by some strings ♪
♪ And everywhere I go
is the wrong place to be ♪
♪ Bring it back to me
Oh, please ♪
♪ It's making me feel so weak ♪
Fuck's sake.
Hi there.
Charlie here.
I can't come to
the phone right now, so...
Where the fuck are you, Charlie?
Here I am, fat as a cow,
having to make my own way home.
I'm gonna kill you
when I see you.
Nightmare?
Jesus!
Jason, what's the craic?
It's Saturday morning.
No rest for the wicked.
Gotta find her.
If I find this... this
working girl,
O'Connor will think the sun
shines out of my arse again.
Then I'll get a raise.
And then we'll catch up.
Shall I make you breakfast
before you leave?
No, I'll get something later.
I'm meeting Fiona
at the Glencara.
We're a good team.
You and Fiona?
Me and you, Shell.
You holding down the home front
and me catching the bad guys...
or gals.
What is it with you lately?
You're always out of sorts.
And me the one
under all the pressure.
Sympathy stress, I guess.
Caitlin's game is at 12:00.
So, I figured we'd just
do a Saturday-night chipper.
I won't make it to the shop.
Still strange to think
you were there
at the same time
as our dead fella.
At the shop?
Unless some place else
I'm unaware of.
I'll call you later, yeah?
Wish me luck!
Mag... Maggie!
Further along on the M11,
it's slow approaching
junction 5 Bray North.
And it's moving pretty well
into Kilmacanogue.
Wicklow's weather, mostly dry
with sunny spells today.
Chance of scattered showers on
the coast by this evening.
- It's 7:00.
- This is Seapoint FM.
I'm your weekend host,
Rose Dempsey.
Our top story is still
the mystery murder
at the Glencara hotel,
in which a man...
♪♪ There's nowhere to go ♪
♪ Sting like a bee ♪
♪ When I'm tangled
in a mess of things ♪
♪ And all the trouble
that living brings ♪
♪ Won't go down on my knees ♪
♪ And let it ride over me ♪
Niall, Cait, Derek, breakfast!
Jesus, Niall!
Don't sneak up on me.
- Can I wee in the garden?
- What? No!
Caitlin locked herself
in the loo.
- So use ours.
- Dad doesn't like us to.
Dad isn't home. Go on!
♪ Yeah, I was born
with a wishing heart ♪
♪ No matter what life brings ♪♪
Caitlin, you getting dressed?
Cait?
You OK?
- Don't come in!
- I'll be down in a minute.
Niall, breakfast!
Derek!
I'm meeting Luke
over at Westside.
What, you won't come
watch your sister's match?
It's all right.
Dad said I didn't have to.
Remember what we talked about.
How could I forget, Mom?
- I'm serious.
- Yeah, you're always serious.
I'll have an apple.
What did you talk about?
Nothing.
So, all the bits are in here?
What bits?
Beak, feathers...
Niall, fix this.
It's simple, Cait.
Eggs are just eggs,
unless they're
fertilized by sperm.
What's sperm again?
- Splooge.
- Derek!
Later, losers.
Don't be late.
We're doing the chipper tonight!
Cait, eat something.
You need the energy
for your match.
We'll get this nasty port
out soon, love.
Until the next infection.
Cait, can you
eat something please?
Mmm... there!
I need you both dressed
and ready by 11:00.
Nymeria!
Atta girl.
At least someone
appreciates my cooking.
- Dad doesn't like us to feed...
- Dad isn't home.
Martin, what did
the ballistics tell us
about the weapon used?
Not to be an a-hole,
detective sergeant, but...
Here we go.
Ballistics is the study
of the motion of a projectile.
What bollocks are you
on about, Martin?
Firearms identification does
not directly involve ballistics.
Well, let me ask you
another way, Martin.
What kind of fucking gun
was used?
.35 caliber with no matches
on our system.
You might have led with that.
- I just want...
- What about the bible?
No prints, latent or otherwise.
The good book
is as clean outside as in.
Right.
Well, let's get
everything we don't know
over to our colleagues
in England.
Baxy, you stick on the CCTV.
O'Neill and Gee, you go back
to the surrounding neighborhood.
Keep pounding on doors.
OK, let's go!
This case isn't
gonna solve itself.
Hello?
Mrs. Whelan?
Mrs. Philip Whelan?
- Not in donkey's.
- So, I'm not interested.
Ma'am, I'm detective
inspector Yeates,
Northumbria Police.
Detective?
Special Crimes?
Come in.
What was he doing in Ireland?
I don't have details.
It only just happened.
Is there a new Mrs. Whelan
to talk to?
No, unless he did it in secret.
We've been divorced 9 years.
Other next of kin?
Our daughters.
Daughters?
Wendy and Laurie, 16 and 14.
Did they have contact with him?
They haven't seen him
in a couple of years.
Phil was a shite dad.
My new husband, Jack,
is the girls' real dad.
Did you have a good divorce?
Is that like a good cancer?
Did you kill your ex,
Mrs. Overton?
Go all the way
to Ireland to kill Phil?
No, I'd have done it right here.
Other next of kin?
Siblings or parents?
Phil was orphaned young.
Spent time in foster care.
Never wanted to talk
about his past.
Did he have a flat
or a house somewhere?
This is the address
he had in his passport.
He used to talk
about London some.
I think he lived in Luton once.
You'll need to speak
with the embassy in Dublin
to make arrangements.
The body, it'll need
to be shipped back.
Ex says he used to spend
some time in London.
Go ahead and send
Whelan's prints to HOB.
It's a single injection
like Narcan,
but this shot would unclog
the arteries of stroke victims.
A blood thinner?
No, uh, this would
dissolve the clot.
So, you're pitching
an emergency injection
of drain cleaner, Ames?
Well, I'm not a chemist, but...
But you've unclogged
drain pipes?
DCI Critchett.
DI Yeates, Northumbria.
Switchboard said you were
the one who'd want to know,
it being a cold case.
Know what, DI?
Who Whelan is... was.
- Sorry, Whelan?
- Aye.
Should be on your FINDS alert.
We ran his prints
through the national database.
They matched.
Fuck me sideways.
Figure of speech, James.
Get me up to speed, DI Yeates.
Let's go.
Why aren't you dressed?
I'm not going.
My stomach hurts!
It's like a stitch.
You have to run through it.
Exercise will do you good.
It'll release endorphins.
What are endorphins?
Uh...
Happy hormones.
What if I leak?
I'm gonna bleed
all over my uniform.
My shorts are white!
Ah!
Cait...
Look, we'll put an extra pair
of cycling shorts underneath.
I'll get you painkillers
for the cramps.
And you'll be grand.
Look, I know this feels
like a big deal.
And it is.
I don't mean to undermine that.
But nothing changes.
You keep going onwards.
I don't want to have a baby.
What? No.
Look, sex and
all that stuff can wait.
Sex is gross!
We... Uh, kind of.
Look, we'll... we'll put
your kit on here at home.
No one will know.
You'll be fine!
OK?
Come here.
Where were you?
Hiya, Mags.
Oh, enjoying a tin, are you?
- Look...
- I don't need to look.
I can see.
Have a beer.
I want a bump.
- OK. OK.
- Whatever you want, Mags.
- Don't "Mags" me.
- Why didn't you pick me up?
I heard that bird again.
The narc bird?
Chirp, chirp, chirp.
Trained to smell drugs,
they are.
Thems the drugs
eating your brain, Charlie.
I left the flat to come get you.
And then, "Chirp, chirp, chirp,"
he was following me.
And by the time
I gave him the slip,
it wa... it was late, so...
So you left me alone
like this to make my own way?
You look very cute
like that, fuckable.
Then what are you waiting for?
Do me.
OK.
I want to meet
Freddie face-to-face.
Oh, he's a psycho.
I'm not afraid of narc birds
or Freddie fucking Vee.
But I am tired of taking
all the risk
while he gets rich.
And if you won't do it, I will!
That's my magpie!
Fuck you, Charlie.
Love your fire!
You'll be grand.
No one's gonna know.
What if...
It won't.
Just play your normal self.
You'll be fine.
Knock them dead, kiddo!
I think he wants something.
Hmm?
That's Emma Wilson's dad.
Oh, hi!
We have to stop
meeting like this.
You keep talking shite, we will.
Emma says there'll be
some sort of rumble,
girls with bats?
Uh, hurls.
And you're about
three quarters of an hour early.
Ah! You staying?
Uh, no. But we'll be back.
Slán.
Ah...
How do you know him?
Uh, we baked cupcakes
for the fundraiser.
What are you laughing at?
Dads never bake cupcakes.
They're Yanks.
Can you picture
your dad in an apron?
Well, it's herself...
Bloody Mary.
That's brilliant.
Yeah!
And if the Garda comes...
we can just eat the evidence!
Doireann's on the pill.
How do you know?
She told me.
How'd she say it?
She said, uh:
"Come to mine Sat night.
"Parents are gone
to a christening in Donegal.
I'm on the pill."
Jesus.
Take this.
Johnny?
But she says she's on the pill.
So she says.
Or maybe she wants a baby.
She's 16.
Subconsciously, you know,
like, her ovaries
are running things.
Like our bollocks are
controlling us.
Ha! You're mad.
Besides, the pill
is only 99% effective.
You know what 99% means,
don't you?
It means I'll take my chances!
One baby for
every hundred shags.
We have, what, 5 million Irish?
Couple million shagging
at any given time?
That's hundreds of
"I'm on the pill" babies.
Wear the Johnny.
It's Doireann.
"See you later."
Don't tell me
I threw your back out.
Saturday night,
what's it gonna be?
Homemade pizza?
- Chipper.
- Mmm!
You're giving her the night off.
She doesn't work for me.
Doesn't she?
Are we gonna solve this?
This? Us?
The case!
The fucked if I know.
How many thousands
of drivers do we prosecute
while most gun murders
go unsolved?
Jesus, Fi.
This one is gonna get solved.
Far as we know,
your man doesn't
know anyone local.
Except a curva.
Well, then,
let's go find our curva.
Let's.
How are you?
We're looking for the manager.
Tha-that's me.
Uh, well,
I'm the assistant manager.
But I wasn't here
when that guy got killed.
Where's the other fella from
yesterday and the day before?
Sean McNair.
Sean McNair, he called in sick.
Normal like,
I don't work Saturdays.
What's your name?
Sean. Uh, we're not related.
Right.
Do you know her?
Um...
Here's the thing, Sean,
we know that she's a sex worker
and we just want to find her.
You'd have to ask Sean.
The other Sean?
He offered certain guests,
uh... luxury duvets.
Would you be needing
any luxury duvets?
Knock, knock.
Keep going with your acapella.
Just one.
Who's there?
Alec.
Alec who?
Alec-tricity.
Ah, Niall!
That is terrible.
So terrible, I'm gonna go.
Back in a sec.
I just need to speak
to Maya out front.
Keep going!
Mrs. Mohan?
I was just wondering
if you had any luck
on the vibrating vests?
The airway clearance vest?
Yeah, ah, since he
saw it on YouTube, it's...
That girl in America.
Well, those devices
are very dear,
15,000 euro or more.
And not recommended
treatment in Ireland.
So, my son's quality of life
is not worth 15,000 euro?
What is it worth, 10,000, 5,000?
I don't make HSE rules.
You'd be buying it yourself.
15,000 euro?
Oh, sure, I'll just put that
on my shopping list.
Aelish? Is, uh, Niall done?
Couple of minutes.
Did the Gardai talk to you
about the murder
at the Glencara?
Uh...
They were going door to door
looking for witnesses.
What are you doing here,
Mrs. Mohan?
Uh, no.
Um, did you see anything?
No. Well, I mean, you...
but nothing suspicious.
Did you?
No.
I suppose
you'd tell your husband
if you saw something.
Of course.
Scary, though.
What's the world coming to?
I don't know, Aelish.
Uh...
Did you, um, did you
tell them you saw me?
You?
Oh God!
I suppose I should have.
- Ah, no, you're grand.
- You're grand.
I'll tell Jason that, uh,
I was in the area
and that we spoke
and neither one of us
saw a thing.
Thanks a million!
Oh, no worries!
Well, Whelan's been
all over CCTV.
Nothing from the car park?
Sixteen workable angles
from the inside,
but outside, shite.
More interested in
crisp-knickers than car jackers.
Other Sean lives 30 minutes
east of here, near Arklow.
Grand.
Let's go pay a visit
to the other Sean.
Imagine coming out here
and not even paying a visit
to Dalkey Castle
or the Sugarloaf.
- Pretty boring visit if you...
- Holy shite!
Pause this one.
Who is that...
in front of Whelan?
Her.
Isn't that your missus?
Go on, Cait!
Come on, Cait!
Jesus. Is that woman
everywhere I am?
You made it back
in time for the mayhem.
How is this sport not banned?
"Cross between
hockey and murder."
Ken Bruen.
When my wife said
we were moving to Ireland,
I devoured
the Jack Taylor books.
Well, I think it looks like fun.
It is!
It's good for the head,
good for the heart.
That's our Cait, there.
Pass to me! Here.
Niall, why don't you take
Emma closer to the action?
Go on.
Go on.
Your, um, wife's not here?
Nope. Work.
No rest for the wicked.
So, you do know my wife?
Mom! It's Dad!
You made it!
Fiona.
Mrs. Mohan.
Where's Cait?
Uh, there.
How's she doing?
It's early, Jase.
She's mostly just jogging around
hoping and praying
the sliotar doesn't find her.
When she's on the pitch,
she's gotta be on the pitch.
She's a bit out of sorts.
Female trouble.
Congratulations.
What?
She got her period yesterday.
Oh, why didn't you tell me?
Well, I...
Get in, Cait! Come on!
Get in the fight!
CCTV from your Supermarket
came in.
My Supermarket?
I wish it was,
the amount I spend there.
Well, the funny thing is,
the CCTV shows our victim,
Mr. Whelan, following you.
Following me?
Well, not following,
so much as he was near you
a couple of times.
But maybe, you might have
noticed him talking to someone?
Are you here for work
or for your daughter?
Well, two birds, Shell.
We were on our way.
We were passing
on the way to Arklow.
You didn't recognize him
in the photo we had.
I didn't.
But when you didn't
see him in the supermarket,
he had a beard.
Our sketch man added a beard.
Would you like to take a look?
I never seen him
before in my life.
You didn't notice him
standing right beside you
at the butcher's counter?
- No, that was yours, Cait!
- Get in there!
There's another bit.
Looks like he's waiting
for you to leave.
Hey, Shelly, I think
your daughter's team scored.
Oh!
Look, I wish I could help.
But I'd like to watch the match.
Bloody Mary!
Get off me! Get off me!
Come on, girls!
We better roll, Jay.
You can't stay for
the half-time whistle, Jason?
Can't.
We've got this thing in Arklow.
I'll see you, Cait!
Yeah, later, yeah?
Your husband's not staying?
Uh, he's working... a case.
He's a cop?
Mmm!
Everything OK?
Yes, grand.
You want to come
to dinner tomorrow night?
And your husband, the kids,
dog or cat if you have one.
I'll throw burgers
on the barbecue.
Uh, t-tomorrow, um...
actually, we're going
to a barbecue
at Jason's brother's house.
There'll be a bonfire.
You should come.
B-bring Emma and...
- Lighter fluid.
- Your wife.
- You bitch!
- Oh!
Who's bloody now?
Aargh! Bitch!
Fight, fight, fight!
Caitlin Teresa MaryAnn Mohan,
what on Earth got into you?
Sinéad.
- She called me...
- She called you what?
Bloody Mary.
Well, she's just jealous, love.
She's just a bitch!
Well, that's as may be.
But you can't just
go attacking people.
Come on.
What's her name, other Sean?
Look, a... a... a fella
wants company,
I... I... I call a number.
That's all I know.
We have her
slipping you 20 euro.
That makes you a pimp,
maybe even a sex trafficker.
What? No!
I... I... I... I think herself, um...
Mariama, I think her name was.
"Duvets." Cute.
- Can I go now?
- Nope.
But what about what...
Well, we gotta find
your Mariama first.
B-but what about my mom?
We'll let herself know
that you're staying
the night with us.
There.
It's not the Glencara,
but we'll find you a nice kip.
What you're telling me
is a man who's been presumed
dead for nearly 2 decades
is now confirmed dead?
Murdered.
It's an open case
in Ireland, sir.
It's a bleeding cold case
from a dark time.
No one cares.
Can you even murder a dead man?
Charlie Lynch
and his accomplices were...
Killed a murdering drug dealer.
I know the case.
1999 was a lifetime ago.
Frankly, Lynch and his lot
did London a favor.
I'd like to
interview his brother,
see if they were in touch.
Are you out of
your fucking mind?
There's an election on.
Unless, maybe you think
Rory Lynch had
his brother murdered.
"I got rid of
my own tosser brother.
Think what I can do for Luton."
We still haven't found
Margaret Gallagher.
This is the only
known photograph
taken some time before
Alfred Vance was killed.
As far as we know,
she's out there too.
Or she was chopped up
and stuffed into a barrel
20 years ago.
Their victim,
Alfred Vance, was my CI.
I put him in that situation.
His death is on me.
If the press asks about it...
Freddie Vance was
a low-life drug dealer.
His death is on him.
Let it go, Crichett.
I'm not hungry.
Caitlin, you have to eat some...
We have
to stop meeting like this.
Go on, eat in front
of the telly.
Seriously?
Go, before I change my mind.
Serviette.
Hello?
Did you know
your brother was alive?
You there, Rory?
I'm here.
Do you know
who you're talking to?
Judging by your accent,
I can guess you're
a relative of Fred Vance.
He'd be my younger brother.
So, did you know
about your brother?
Until a month ago,
I assumed you and your lot
had done Charlie years ago,
like you did Doyle.
I had fuck all to do with this.
So, who did then?
- Don't know.
- Don't fucking care.
Then why are you calling me?
Your brother
leads to my brother.
Neither you nor I need
the press to dig up the past.
My brother and I
have lived different lives.
Explain that to the voters.
If you didn't do this...
if you didn't know
he was living as Philip Whelan,
then how do you know
Charlie was killed?
I have ears.
Your brother's dead.
My brother's dead.
Let's leave the past
where it is.
That didn't take long.
I assume you're calling
about Philip Whelan.
I won't ask how you knew
he was your brother.
And I won't ask how
a politician from Belfast
found out before me.
I had no idea
my brother was alive.
And you had no idea
what he was doing in Ireland.
It's not a question.
If you do know,
keep it to yourself.
I'll handle this end.
You just get yourself elected.
Esmé?
It's Gwen Crichett
from the London Police Force.
We met a couple of years ago
when you did that piece
on the Tower Bridge stabbings.
I'm working a cold case
from the 1990s.
What if it involved
Rory Lynch's brother?
I'm unable to comment.
But Rory Lynch might know.
Cheers.
Fucking stepmom.
I swear she has
Spidey-sense or something.
Didn't know you were a virgin.
I'm not.
Your lady-o-the-palm
don't count.
You should probably go.
Maggie.
Ah, come on, babe.
Fuck you, Charlie.
I'm tired of taking
all of the risk
for none of the profit.
I'll talk to Freddie.
Yeah, right.
Open the door.
Let me come in!
Why am I the only one
with balls in this relationship?
What's got you
all riled up, Mags?
We've got a good thing going.
OK, look, it's Saturday night.
Let me nip around
to the chipper.
That always cheers you up.
Back in 5!
How did it feel?
How did it feel?
What's wrong, love?
What's it like...
feeling a baby in you?
Oh, it's, um...
weird...
wonderful...
scary.
I don't want one.
Ah, Cait!
No.
Look, I know people say,
"You're a woman now,"
when you get your period,
but you're still
just a little girl.
My little girl.
You're way too young to be
worrying about this stuff.
How old were you?
Um...
Well, I... I was
with your father, so...
You've had a long day.
Why don't we talk
about this tomorrow?
I'll answer
all your questions then.
Go on, go to bed, love.
Ah, bollocks!
Did you not eat something out?
I forgot to.
Were you sleeping?
Big day.
Here.
Thanks.
Ah...
OK, so, spill it.
(Groaning
Well, our Cait got red carded.
Raging hormones and mean girls,
not a good combo.
Jesus.
- So, it's starting.
- Mmm!
I handled it.
But you may have to have
the talk with your son.
The talk?
Mmm!
- Sex?
- Mmm!
How old is Niall?
Derek.
Oh, between what I've already
told him and the Internet,
I'm sure he knows the basics.
Well, he fancies a girl.
Unless you want
to be a granddad soon,
I suggest you have the talk.
Yeah, it's... it's late.
Well, not now, you idiot.
Besides, he's staying at Luke's.
That's if he's not lying.
He didn't ask.
He texted me,
and then he switched
off his phone.
I'm not letting him
treat me like that.
Well, like what?
Like a teenager?
He's being a complete
dickhead to me again.
Well, you're not his mom, so...
Mmm!
Maybe he should go
and live with Grainne then.
She still acts like a teenager.
They'd get along grand.
I didn't mean it
to come out like that.
Derek's just being Derek.
And then there's Niall.
- What about him?
- You know the breathing vest,
he wants the one
he saw on the girl?
HSE won't cover it.
Maybe he doesn't need it.
Maybe it would help.
How much does it cost?
15,000 euro.
We could sell the car.
No.
I'll get it.
How?
Where? When?
Soon.
That's why I need
to solve this case.
So, you know Philip Whelan?
- Hmm?
- Our dead fella.
Get this...
he wasn't Philip Whelan.
Uh, what do you mean?
Who was he?
So, it will be
in the news tomorrow.
His actual name was Lynch.
And he's been missing in the UK
for 20 years, presumed dead.
Oh...
What was he doing here?
That is
the million-euro question.
God, chips don't
microwave for shite!
What happened in Arklow?
Did you make an arrest?
Mmm!
Tomorrow, touch wood.
Yeah, can't wait to see
O'Connor's face.
He never believed in me.
Mmm!
And then he'll have
to make me detective inspector.
And with the salary increase,
maybe we can get
Niall's fancy vest.
Mmm! Mmm!
All right.
Why don't you go on up to bed?
Ah!
Ha! A red card, huh?
Mmm!
Category 3, one-game suspension.
Now, what did our Cait do?
She dragged her teammate
around the pitch
by her ponytail.
- Her teammate?
- Mm-hmm!
Red carded against
her own teammate?
Fair play to her.
I shouldn't laugh,
but what that girl
said to our Cait...
You'd have done the same.
I'm gonna shower
and hit the hay.
- Ah, Jesus!
- What?
Kevin's barbecue thing
is tomorrow.
I completely forgot.
I remembered.
Hmm.
You're dead.
I'll give you a head start.
But I'll hunt you,
catch you and flay you
open like a sow!
You conniving minge!
That's a good girl.