Quirke (2013–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - The Silver Swan - full transcript

I did.

He'd rather be propping
up the bar in McGonagles

than celebrating his father's honour.

Some people are not meant
to have children.

And who decides that, Garret?

I've been awake half the night,
worrying about Phoebe.

You're not thinking about running
away again, are you?

Maybe I'll elope with you.

You have to tell her she's your
child, Quirke.

What do you mean, Delia died?

She died having you, Phoebe.



You gave me away.

I'm sorry.

Quirke
Season 1 - Episode 02

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd
Sync: Marocas62

"The Silver Swan"

Morning, Dr. Quirke.

Ready when you are.

Yes.

The deceased... Mrs. Millican.

Mrs. Millican.

Do you want me to call the morgue
to collect?

No, put her in the cold room until
we find out what killed her.

I've got to go out tonight

so I'll leave you with the
paperwork, all right?



Sarah!

I can't find my dress shoes,
what have you done with them?

-Do you mean have I hidden them?
-Don't be ridiculous!

Try the bottom of the wardrobe.

Damn things take on a life
of their own.

-Phoebe!
-Yes?

You know your father doesn't like
to see you drinking.

Well, he won't have to worry about
that much longer.

I'm going to find a place of my own.

Could I have another?

Hello, Mal, Sarah.

Would you like a drink?

I'm not leaning on the bar
like some farmer.

-Let's sit down over there, shall we?
-Mal, I'm all right here.

It's Phoebe.

This is all your bloody doing,
of course. If you'd left things be,

she'd be back at the
College of Surgeons now

instead of working
in a damned hat shop!

-But you just had to tell her the truth.
-Don't blame Sarah.

-It was my fault.
-Don't give me that.

The pair of you were in it together

and neither of you thought ever to
consult me...

-So that's what all this is about.
-We're all to blame.

The thing is, what are we going to
do about it?

We don't have to do anything.

We just have to show
that we support her.

I mean, she's 20 years old,
she's not a child.

She wants to live her life
and why the hell shouldn't she?

Yes, do nothing.
Always your favourite option.

Quirke!

Dr. Quirke.

Do you not remember me?

I was a student of yours 20
years ago, remember?

-I-I'm afraid I-I don't...
-Come on, Dr. Quirke!

Billy Hunt?

You used to say it sounded like
rhyming slang.

Billy Hunt. Yes, of course
I remember. How are you?

Good to meet you again.

-You used to play rugby, didn't you?
-I still do, for my sins.

Touch old for it now,

but I can still work
up a bit of a trot.

And this is your brother,
I take it?

How do you do?

-This is my wife Sarah.
-How do you do, Dr. Hunt?

No.
Just plain old mister.

I dropped out of medicine, I didn't
have the stomach for it.

I'm in pharmaceuticals now.

Blast Kugelman.

Plenty of travelling,
all over Europe

and good money too,
you'd be surprised.

You have to excuse us.

Very nice to meet you.

Anyway, thought I'd come to this
and look up some of the old crowd.

-Yes. Well, I have to...
-Don't go yet, Quirke.

You've got to meet the wife.
Deirdre!

This...is the great Dr. Quirke,
Deirdre.

-City Pathologist he is now!
-Hello.

-Hello.
-I can see what you're thinking.

Where would an ugly old skin like me
find a beauty like this one?

-He found me in the chemist shop.
-I did.

I did.

And she's not just a pretty face!

There's a good little head on her.

She has her own business,
beauty parlour down on Anne Street.

-Silver Swan we call it.
-Doing very well there, too.

Perhaps your wife would like to come
in and try it?

Well, actually I... I don't have
a wife.

Well, we do manicures for men.

Well, thank you but...

I don't think I'm that kind
of man.

I didn't really think you were.

Look.
It's Tommy Marsh!

It's great to see you, Quirke.
We'll have a drink one day soon.

Yes, we will, Billy.

Tommy!

Goodbye.

All set?

Will I give you a lift to the salon?

No, I'm not ready.

Well.

I best hit the road then, so.

-Do you have your passport?
-I have.

Did you tell them I want to look at
the books when I get back?

I did.

There's nothing to worry about,
Billy.

-We're doing fine.
-Did I say I was worried?

Come on, now.

My little angel.

I wish I didn't have to go at all.

Sure you'll be back soon enough.

Can't be too soon for me.

Mrs. Griffin.

That's fine, take a seat.

Sarah.

Hello.

What are you doing here?

I just didn't want Mal to know.

He takes everything so seriously.

He gets so worried.

Wh-what's wrong?

Oh, headaches...

Really bad ones.

Sometimes so bad that I...

Well, whole days go by and I...

Who have you been seeing?

-Fitzgerald.
-And?

He's running ECGs and...

..X-rays and...

..he says he can't find anything
wrong.

I think...
what you need...

-is a good holiday.
-Yes.

I think we both need a good holiday.

Where would we go?

Rome, Florence?

Verona.

-What would I say to Mal?
-You can tell him you're going to Verona with me.

Sarah...

you know where I am if you ever need
to talk to me about anything.

I know.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Cuffe-Wilkes.

Punctuality is the politeness of
princes, Ms. Griffin.

Yes, Mrs. Cuffe-Wilkes.

But now that you are here,
you can do me a message.

I've run out of rose-water for the
tissue paper.

Keel's rose-water, I'd better write
that down.

Would be a tragedy if I
got it wrong, wouldn't it?

-Hardly that.
-I don't know.

Little things mean a lot.
That's a song, isn't it?

Keel's rose-water.
And your name is?

-Griffin.
-Griffin.

-Miss or Mrs.?
-Miss.

Splendid.
Telephone number?

147-749.

-And is that a daytime number?
-Yes, it's the hat shop.

-Maison de Chapeaux.
-Maison de Chapeaux!

Tell me,
how is Mrs. Cuffe-Wilkes?

She's all right.

I could tell you a thing or two
about that one.

Right, well, we'll give you a ring
very soon.

I'm sure we'll be able to help you
one way or another.

Thank you.

-Goodbye.
-Au revoir.

Who was that?

A Miss Griffin,
very nice young lady

works in the hat shop.

You don't want a nice, young lady,
Leslie, you want me.

Come on.

Let's take the afternoon off.

Dr. Quirke.

Dr. Sinclair.

I used to be afraid of those things
when I was a little lad.

My auntie had one and she'd pretend
to give me a nip with it.

I always thought she'd take off the
end of my nose.

So, any joy?

Carbromal and Bromvaletone
in quantities

that suggest she took an overdose of
sleeping medication.

And...diamorphine, which I can't
really account for.

-That's heroin.
-Thank you, Dr. Sinclair.

See, there's no underlying
pathology,

so I'd say that she wasn't taking it
for pain relief.

We were just looking
for needle marks.

I wouldn't have thought
she was the type.

I don't think there's
any particular type.

See, there's no nasal inflammation,

which means she was taking it
orally.

Suicide or accident, would you say?

Hard to tell.

I mean, with that combination of
drugs, it could be a mistake.

-She was a long way from home.
-Well, if it was me...

I'd lose myself in the mountains,
do it there.

You've thought about it, then?

Haven't we all?

Not me, Dr. Quirke.

So you don't suspect foul play?

It's too early to tell.

I'd like to find out what it is
that she took, though.

Any bottles or pills
found in the car?

If there were,
they'd be impounded as evidence.

Let me look into it.

Bloody hell!

-Do you need a hand with that?
-Hello again!

Yes, thank you.
Bloody door slammed shut

and Mrs. Hunter's gone home,
would you mind?

Keys are in my jacket pocket
just there.

Thank you.

That's the ticket.

Now don't run away.

Dr. Quirke!

Just on my way home.

Where'd you find it?

In the car. I didn't give it to you,
all right?

-It's not proper procedure.
-So why are you?

If I followed proper
procedure in every case,

I'd never get anything done.

It's got no label on it.

But there's some residue left
at the bottom.

This will be very helpful.
Thanks.

-Let me know what you find.
-I will.

I won't take up any more of your
evening, Dr. Quirke.

Inspector...

I was going to go for a drink,
if...

Well,
we've reached a respectable hour.

Right.

So, what's it to be?

Gin and tonic.

Gin and tonic, that's my girl.
Make that two, please.

More tonic than gin, Ms Griffin?

All the vices.

I approve, Ms Griffin.

Phoebe.

Phoebe.

Tell me, Phoebe,

any relation to the illustrious
Judge Griffin?

His granddaughter.

Well.

So what are you doing working in
a shop?

You're not one of nature's shop
girls, I can tell.

Slumming it, are we?

I was studying to be a doctor,
but then...

it's a long story.

Good, I like long stories.

The hat shop suits me fine.

-Phoebe.
-Hello, Quirke.

Lesley White, proprietor of the
Silver Swan around the corner.

And you are?

Quirke.

What's this?

Ms Griffin was kind enough to give
me a helping hand

and I'm repaying her with a drink.
Is that all right with you?

-Let me buy you one.
-No, thanks.

Sarah says that you're leaving home.

What if I am?

She's worried about you.

She's no need to be.

I can look after myself.

Now, if you don't mind, Quirke.

Another time, then.

-Golly, who was that?
-No-one.

A man I used to know.

Leaving home, eh?

Yes.

And where are you off to?

I don't really know.

I haven't found a place yet.

Well,
this might just be your lucky day.

I happen to know of a place that
might suit you,

it's just around the corner as well.
Let me write the address for you.

Friends of yours?

Family.

It's my...

my niece.

Thank you for coming in,
Mr. Millican.

Just through here.
I'm very sorry for your loss.

Now, Mr. Millican.

Dr. Quirke's postmortem
examination

seems to suggest your wife
had been taking sleeping pills

and painkillers for some time.

Did she have trouble sleeping?

Sometimes.
She had...

problems with her nerves.

And why would she have needed
to take painkillers?

I don't know.

She didn't tell me about anything
like that.

Mr. Millican, as things stand,

Dr. Quirke can't tell whether your
wife committed suicide

or died from an accidental overdose.

Anything you can tell us will help
us determine which it was.

Will we be able to avoid an inquest?

I doubt that.

I can't have the coroner putting it
on record

that Geraldine killed herself.

Where did you get them?

She gave them to me.

They're disgusting.

Yes, they are, aren't they?

Who is she?

Just a woman I used to know.

I better not tell you her name,
you'd be shocked.

Awfully good sport, though,
wouldn't you say?

Why did she give them to you,
how could she?

Well, I suppose she's a bit of an exhibitionist
and she thought I might like them.

Of course, she didn't
think I'd show them to you.

Which you shouldn't have.

No, I suppose not.

But you're glad I did,
aren't you?

I am not!

You're terrible, what you've turned
me into.

I used to be a good girl, you know?

I don't believe you've ever been
a very good girl, Deirdre.

Billy thinks I'm a good girl.

Thinks I'm his angel.

If only he knew.

Give us one of your pills, will you?

Don't you think you're getting a little
too keen on those pills, Deirdre?

Well, if I am, we know whose fault
that is.

Come on, Leslie.

Don't tease me.

I don't have any.

You keep taking them all.

I'm sorry.
I just...

I...

I hate the feeling in my hands that
comes to me when I get...

Christ's sake!

I can't stay here all afternoon.

All right.

Go down to Harcourt Street,
number 24, ground floor flat.

Chap called Hakim Kreutz will sort
you out with a little something.

-I don't like until I see.
-Don't be silly.

You needn't be afraid of Hakim.
He's an absolute sweetie.

He'd adore you.

He does spiritual healing as well
and I think in your case

he'll absolutely insist on it.

Good afternoon.

-Dr. Kreutz.
-Yes?

-Leslie sent me.
-Yes.

Come in, please.

Sit down, relax.

This is most...
most pleasant.

And how may I help you today?

I was hoping that...

Do you have any of that relaxant
that you give to Leslie?

-I can pay for it.
-No!

No, my dear, I'm not a drug dealer.

I keep only a small supply
for the purpose of relaxation.

But...

if you like, we might
come to an arrangement?

-What sort of an arrangement?
-No, no. Nothing to alarm.

There is perhaps a small favour
you might grant me.

What?

I would like to take
your photograph.

See, this is my work, on the wall,
yes?

I'm a serious photographer.

And you are a most beautiful woman.

-You mean, nudie pictures?
-Yes, of course.

The body is nothing to be ashamed
of, especially one so beautiful.

And the photographs would be
tasteful, and not for display,

or sale.

Just for my private collection.

-And you wouldn't want anything else?
-No.

I'm a professional man.

And a most serious artist.

So...

perhaps today?

A little something to relax you.

-All right.
-Yes.

And a little water.

I don't want to interrupt you,
Quirke.

I was a bit short with you
the other night.

Meant to catch up with you later,
but you'd gone.

It was all a mess.
What can I say?

Phoebe's taken a room
in Harcourt Street.

Moving in today.

On Harcourt Street?

I worry she has a taste
for the low life...

-Inherited from me, no doubt.
-I didn't say that.

What do you want from me, Mal?

We thought you might keep an eye
on her, she's...

Well, she's not talking to us.

I'll do my best,
but...

she's not really talking
to me either.

Right.

She's the only child
I've ever had, Quirke.

And I worry about the Judge.

-You need to forgive him.
-Forgive him?

He's not getting any younger.

And he's...

he's always asking about you.

Well, he knows where I am
if he wants to find me.

I've invited him round for some
dinner tonight.

Will you do that?
No, I won't do that, Mal. No.

Do it for me, then.

Will you do it for me?

I never ask you for anything,
do I?

-Do I?
-All right. I'll do it.

Good.

We eat at eight.

-Thank you.
-Thank you, Miss.

-Hello.
-Hello.

I'm Phoebe Griffin,
I'll be living upstairs.

My name is Dr. Hakim Kreutz.

You're most welcome, Ms Griffin.

Good to see you, Quirke.

-I hope you're keeping well.
-I'm keeping well.

-Still knocking back the old grog anyway?
-Yeah.

Phoebe sends her love, by the way.

She couldn't join us, unfortunately.

Yes, it's extremely disappointing.

Where is she?

In a flat,
on Harcourt Street.

-A what?
-A flat.

A flat?

That's put me right off my mackerel.

-What do you make of that, Quirke?
-I don't know.

You don't know.
Good answer.

Well, in my opinion,
you've all driven her out

-because of your shenanigans.
-Yeah.

I suppose you're going to sit there
with a pus on you all night, are you?

Because if you think I care what
your opinion is about me,

-what happened in Boston...
-Yeah, well, let's...

Let's agree to differ.

Isn't that right, Maggie?

What's that, Judge?

Families have to agree to differ.

A family would fall apart if they
couldn't agree to differ.

Well, let's... Let's agree what it
is that we differ about.

I don't argue with hypocrites.
Oh, I'm not the hypocrite here.

This mackerel is excellent.

Try cleaning up your own mess
before you muck about with mine.

-Yeah.
-I know you went to the Guards about me.

-Did you think I wouldn't find out?
-I wanted you to find out.

And what happened? Exactly
nothing, just as I predicted.

Well, they closed down that laundry
place, didn't they?

That's the church's decision.

They're perfectly
within their right to.

Well, do you think it's right

to be stealing babies from
their mothers? Do you?

-You think that's right or legal?
-Legal!

You think I sat in a courtroom
for half a century

and didn't know what the law is for?

Well, maybe a little law would have protected
that little girl that you chucked out.

Maybe it would've protected her from
being murdered by that toe-rag!

You know what?
I'm worse

to sit here
and let you speak to me like that.

You're half sozzled, look at you,
I can tell!

-What time was your first one today?
-What's that got to do with anything?

You are guests in my house.

If you can't be civil
to each other,

go somewhere else!

Sarah...

I suggest we'll just
have to agree to differ.

Agree to differ.

-Let's all agree to differ.
-We'll agree to differ.

-You said that.
-Agree to differ!

How many more times are you going
to say "agree to differ"?

I have to go to work in the morning.

I'm so sorry, Sarah.

It's all right.

I think I'll sleep in
the spare room.

Aren't you feeling well?

No.

Compared to other spats when we were
growing up,

that was pretty mild.

Well...

-I just feel like everything's gone wrong.
-Don't be silly.

Phoebe will come back.

When her temper cools down.

You'll see.

Why would she want to come back?

What do you mean?

Just to keep us together?

What?!

Don't let's pretend, Mal.

I'm not pretending anything.

I never thought there was any point
in telling her.

You and Quirke!

No wonder she's annoyed at you.

At me.

Well, what did I do?

Apart from giving her a home?

And loving her.

So did I, Mal.

Don't sleep in the spare room,
Sarah.

You have the big bed.

I'll go.

We're closed!

-Billy!
-There she is.

Oh, I missed you so much,
my little angel.

I thought you weren't back
until Monday?

I finished early.

And...I'm Salesman of the Month
again.

-Well done, you.
-Like I give a bollocks about that.

Here we are.

I got you some of those Swiss chocs
you like.

-You're very sweet to remember.
-And...

this.

Well, go on.

Open it.

It's a dainty gold watch.

You shouldn't have.

What else would I spend my money on?

I bless the day I found you in
Plunkett's Pharmacy.

I do.

I do, I do, I do.

Hakim!

Come on, Kreutzy boy, I know you're
in there.

Jesus!

You gave me a fright.

Why didn't you answer the door
when I knocked?

I didn't know it was you.

Who did you think it was then?

Come on.

Come on, you know why I'm here,

and don't palm me off with
any old rubbish,

that last lot wasn't up to snuff.

Kreutzy boy,
what have you done now?

What do you mean?
I don't understand.

You've done a very bad thing there,
Kreutzy boy.

Did I say you were to do that?

She seemed ready.

I thought you would be pleased.

I don't believe you.

I think you are trying to cut me
out.

No, no, I assure you...
No!

You burnt my hand!
My hands are my living.

Yes, well, it will teach you to keep
them to yourself.

Perhaps I should go to the police?

You wouldn't dare.

I'm taking these and
I want the negatives

before I really hurt you.

Fine.

Let's get your name on them,
shall we?

Credit where credit's due
and all that.

Hakim Kreutz Studios.

Very nice.

Now we won't go to the cops,
will we?

On the road again.

At least it's only Belfast
this time.

Not bloody Bern.

This is grand.

Are you not going to have any
yourself?

I'm not really that hungry, Billy.

I think I've a bit
of an upset tummy.

You can sit down with me for
a couple of minutes at least.

Come on.

Well, you don't look yourself.

Should I call the doctor
before I go?

-No, really, it'll pass.
-Are you sure now?

Is there something you're not
telling me?

It's just an upset tummy, Billy.

You're so sweet to me,
I don't deserve you.

Look at the time.

I've got to go.

My little angel.

You take care.

How did you get these?

What have you done?!

Where did you get them from?

Hakim Kreutz Studios.

That's nothing to do with me,
darling.

You've got to admit,
Kreutz has got flair.

It was you!

I know it was.

How much do you think Billy would
pay Kreutz to keep it quiet, hm?

You bastard!

Did I ask you to go around there
and show him all you've got?

No, you did that all by yourself!

And I must say,
I don't care much for him,

I don't care much for these
pictures either!

Funnily enough, they don't do
a thing for me, not one thing.

It's all a question of timing,
really.

I think we've had our time.

It was nice while it lasted, but
it's over.

Sorry and all that.

-Mr. Hunt, how's it going?
-Not so bad.

-Yourself?
-Not too bad, not too bad.

OK.

All right, if you just step inside and bring
your samples case with you.

-The kettle's on.
-Lovely.

-Back on Wednesday?
-I am.

-It's a beautiful day.
-Isn't it lovely?

What did he say?

He said,

"Well, I stopped playing pocket
billiards when I was 15 years old."

And she said, "I don't care, I'm
still not shaking your hand."

Oh, God, that is so...

Quirke...

Isn't it nice?

I mean, aren't you glad we're past
all that mooning at each other

across crowded rooms like two
teenagers?

Yes. And besides, it's
unbecoming of a woman of your age!

I should brain you.

All that pain and havoc that you
caused me.

Have I?

Once upon a time, yes.

But not any more?

No.

Well, thank God for that.

Yes, thank God.

Phoebe's still mad about you.

You do know that?

Mad about or...
mad at?

Always watch out for her,
won't you?

Yes.

Yes, of course I will.

-Thank you.
-Thank you.

-I'll get this.
-No, no, let me get this, please.

This was my idea.

-You can get the next one.
-All right.

-I like your hat, by the way.
-Thank you!

It's new.

You're very dear to me...

..you know?

To all of us.

In a minute.

There you go.

Well, this is... nice.

-Madam.
-Thank you.

And sir.

Here we are.

Keel's rose-water.

I could have just come into
the shop to collect it.

No.
It's nice to make an occasion of it.

Now, tell me...

..do you always wear black?

I suppose I do.

It's required at the shop and I seem
to have got into the habit.

-Yes, habit's about right.
-Do I look like a nun to you?

No.

You look like a convent girl.

-Were you?
-Yes.

I adore convent girls.

Why?

They have such a
well-developed sense of sin.

And you're what the nuns would have
called a bad companion,

and having coffee with you would
have been an occasion of sin.

Yes.
That's just the sort of thing I
like.

So, Phoebe,
what's next?

Well,
I don't have to go back to the shop,

it's early closing.

We could go for a walk?

-Well, here we are.
-Are you going to ask me in?

Yes, all right.

It's a bit of a climb.

I'm used to it now.

The vigour of youth, eh!

I'm not at all sure I should be
doing this.

It's nice.

It's a trifle spartan but...
it's nice.

How about a drink?

I only have gin.

No tonic, no ice.

-I haven't a fridge.
-Gin will be fine.

Mum and dad?

Yes.

What do they think about you living
down on Harcourt Street on your own?

Chin, chin.

That's...

strong when it comes
straight like this, isn't it?

Here.
Have one of mine.

Quite Balkan.

Very chic.

So, Phoebe...

..are you going to go to bed with
me?

I can't believe this is happening.

I know.

Yes, the nuns would definitely have
something to say.

Scrumptious!

You'll have to...

I'm afraid I don't have much
experience in this sort of thing.

Well, you won't be surprised to hear
that I have rather a lot.

Don't worry,
we'll go nice and slow.

Now, then.

Is this...?

Probably.

What about this?

A mortal sin?

All right?

I need you to confirm, Mr. Hunt, that
this is your wife.

Mr. Hunt, you left home on Monday
morning.

Yes.
At what time, do you recall?

About half past eight.

And you arrived in Belfast at?

Around half 12.

That's four hours.

I was delayed at the border,
it's the drugs.

I have to go through the paperwork
with them every time.

Of course, of course.

And where did you stay in Belfast?

The McKinley Inn,
it's the one I always use.

And they'll confirm that?

Well, of course they will!

Inspector, why are asking me all
this?

I'm very sorry, Mr. Hunt.
I have to do this.

You have our deepest sympathy.

Yes. Of course.

I understand.

I can see what
you're thinking,

where would an ugly old skin like
me find a beauty like this?

-Found me in the chemist shop.
-I did. I did.

I thought she was happy with me.

I thought I made her happy.

How can you really know what they're
thinking?

Any reason she might have felt under
pressure?

-Is there anyone who she...?
-Anyone what?

I don't know, she... She was an
attractive woman.

What, men?

Yeah, she had her
fair share of admirers but,

she was a good girl,
Dr. Quirke.

Yeah.

Although I never liked your man

she got in to help
her manage the shop.

There were times I was sure he was
robbing her blind.

But I could never get a look at the
books.

-Was this Leslie White?
-Yeah. You know him?

I bumped into him, with my niece.

She works in the hat shop down the
street.

Sounds about right.

Apparently, all the women love him.

Good for business, Deirdre said.

But I never liked him.

-Good afternoon, sir.
-Good afternoon.

How may we help you?

We don't very often
see gentlemen in here.

I was wondering if I could take my
daughter away a little early today?

Just for the last half our or so.

Your daughter, really?

What a pleasure it is to meet you,
Mr. Griffin.

Actually, it's Quirke.
Dr. Quirke.

I'm so sorry, how do
you do, Dr. Quirke?

Now, we are rather busy at the
moment,

but in the circumstances, I think
it's a charming idea.

Phoebe, get your coat.

And don't worry. I'll hold the fort.

I would never stand between a girl
and her father.

I've always said, her father is
a girl's first love.

Yes. Yes, of course.

Phoebe, you can tell me to mind my
own business but

-there's something I wanted to talk to you about.
-What?

That chap that I met you with,
the Englishman, Leslie White...

-..how well do you know him?
-Why?

It's just that I've heard he's not
the best company in the world.

-From who?
-From around.

Well,
you can tell "from around"

that Leslie is a very
kind and gentle person

and you're right, it's none of your
business.

You have no rights over me, Quirke.

Whatever right you might have had,
you forfeited years ago.

-I'm your father!
-Are you?

You hid that from me for so long
and you expect me to accept it?

You're not my father, Quirke.

I have no father.

Please, Phoebe!

Phoebe!

Thank you, Maggie.

Thank you.

They're thinking of making me Dean.

Moriarty mentioned it to me at the
management meeting on Tuesday.

That's nice.

It's a lot of extra work.

What would it involve?

Well, principally, of course,

I'd be responsible for the pastoral
care of the medical faculty.

Moriarty says I have an affinity
with the young.

What?

Sarah.

For goodness' sake!

Don't be such a child!

Sorry, Mal.

-Dr. Quirke, can I have a second?
-What is it?

Deirdre Hunt's toxicology is exactly
the same as the Millican case.

No puncture wounds,

but there was still small amounts
of tablets dissolved in the stomach.

Same compound as we found in
Geraldine Millican?

Not exactly.

-No heroin?
-No, there was heroin all right.

Not exactly the same compound
but so similar it must be...

What?

We've been looking for two pills,

but what if it was combined
in the same pill?

-Backstreet pharmacist.
-Exactly.

Well done, Sinclair.

Can you watch the shop for me
while I'm out for a couple of hours?

-Of course.
-Well done.

It's not a secret,

Geraldine had gone off the rails,
I suppose.

Sure all of Dublin was talking about
it.

Who was she getting her drugs from?

Mr. Millican, I have no clear
cut way of knowing whether

Geraldine killed herself

or whether the stuff she was taking
would have killed her anyway.

I can't tell what was going on
in her mind the day she died.

But now another woman has died with
the same stuff in her system.

You have to tell the police whatever
it is that you know.

A few months ago, I received
a photograph through the post.

A photograph?

A photograph...

..of my wife.

-And what kind of photograph?
-Come on, Dr. Quirke,

don't make me spell it out for you.

Blackmail?

I have a position in this city.

I couldn't allow that photograph
to reach the newspapers,

not that they could print such
a thing,

but they could be very clear what
sort of a photograph it was.

Who sent you the photograph?

"Closed for Bereavement"

Are you meddling again?

Possibly.

You should leave all this kind of
thing to the police.

I would except that this chap,
White,

he's been involved with Geraldine
Millican and Deirdre Hunt

and I know that he's got something
to do with their deaths.

But if he did,
it'll probably come out in time.

No need for you to be sniffing
around it.

Well, the thing is that he's started
a sort of...

-..acquaintance with Phoebe.
-Has he?

Well, you tell her she's not to see
him.

You know what she's like, I tell her something
and she'll go in the opposite direction.

No.

I was hoping you might
have a word with her.

Or...

Or maybe a...

Maybe what?

You remember that fella, Costigan?

Get Costigan's ruffians to deliver
a warning, you mean?

You want to go over to the dark
side, now?

Well, well, I'm surprised at you.

Well, I say this... If I do it,

you may never, ever judge me again!

Is there somebody there?

Who's there?

Who is it?

Phoebe!

Leslie!

Oh, my God!
What happened?

Just...
get me inside.

What shall I do?

-Shall I call for an ambulance?
-No, no!

-A doctor?
-No.

Gin, give me some gin,
please.

-Who did this to you?
-I have no idea.

-Were you robbed?
-No.

Listen.
The man who lives downstairs,

he is a doctor, he'll give you
something for me.

-All right?
-Dr. Kreutz?

Yes. Just tell him
that the medicine is for Leslie,

it's very important
that you say that,

that it's for Leslie.

-I don't like to leave you.
-It's fine, just go!

Please.
Please, just...get the medicine.

Dr. Kreutz?

Dr. Kreutz?

-Did you get it?
-I'm sorry, Leslie.

I knocked and I called
and there was no answer.

Bastard.
No, he's in there.

He's in there, all right.
If you need a job doing,

you must do it yourself.
No, don't...

No, you don't understand, I need it!

Come on, Kreutzy boy, I know you're
in there!

Right, then...

Right.
Come on, come on.

Are you all right?
Did you get your medicine?

Just...

Just let me think for a minute.

Phoebe, can anyone know I'm here?

No.

I don't think so.
Why?

Nothing.

It's fine.

Phoebe.

Don't go.

Will you lie with me?

Sarah.

Hello, Quirke.

We were so young.

So foolish then.

I won't leave Mal, you know?

And if you can live with that,

those are my terms.

I'm...

yours.

What is it?

Nothing.

Just, I'm so happy.

Of course, we'll probably both go to
hell.

There's no such place.

Oh, but there is.

Dr. Quirke isn't in the office.

I tried telephoning
but he's not answering.

He must...

I thought you should know,

I did a haemolysis test on the blood
from Mrs. Hunt's heart

and the blood from the left ventricle is
more diluted than blood from the right.

You're going to have to spell it out
for me, Dr. Sinclair.

Right.

Thank you.

-Leslie?
-Phoebe?

Phoebe, where have you been?!

Nowhere, I went to the shops.

-Well, you should have asked me!
-What?!

You didn't tell anybody I was
here?

No, I just went to the shops,
Leslie.

I bought some eggs, you need to eat.

Listen, Phoebe, listen to me.

I'm in a spot of bother,
all right?

And... It's temporary, but I need
to leave town for a bit,

I wonder if I could borrow some
money?

Of course you can,
I haven't much, though.

-OK.
-Just... No... This is...

No, this is no use, Phoebe!

I could get some from the bank.

Really, how much?

-I don't know. About 20,000.
-Phoebe, I'm not joking!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please,
I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry, I'm just a little
overwrought, that's all.

Let's start again, yeah?

-How much money do you have in the bank?
-I told you.

My grandfather died last November,
he left it to me.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Phoebe.

I'm in such a terrible state and
I don't know what came over me.

Can you forgive me?

Good.

Now, which bank?
The one around the corner.

Perfect.

Perfect.

Now let's sod 'em all, shall we?

We can head off to Egypt

and show them all that
we don't give a damn.

I don't think I can do that, Leslie.

Of course you can, Phoebe, of
course you can, why ever not?

My family are here.

Family!

Right, well, go to the bank,

get the money,
there's a good girl.

There you go.

Dr. Quirke.

I've been trying to get a hold of
you but I couldn't find you,

so I went to Inspector Hackett,
I hope that's all right.

What are you talking about?

I went back to the toxicology.

There was something about the
results that didn't sit right

and I did a haemolysis
test on Deirdre Hunt.

Yeah?

She drowned in fresh water,
Dr. Quirke.

What?

She was murdered.

-Quirke.
-Quirke!

I don't know what to do!

I've got myself in a terrible mess.

Who's in the flat?

All right, stay exactly where you
are, don't move, you hear me?

I'm coming over.

Give me the keys.
Stay there.

-I'll go with you.
-I said stay there!

Phoebe!
What are you doing?

Did you get it?

Quirke!
What have you done?

Leslie!

Quirke!

Leslie!

Was that her?

Your niece?

Well, she'll be safe now.

You saw what he did to my Deirdre.

Your lovely girl would have been
next.

I couldn't let that happen.

All right then, Mr. Hunt crosses the
border at 11 on Monday morning.

Thanks very much.

This is him crossing back into the
Republic...

..at quarter past two on
Wednesday afternoon.

And he couldn't have slipped back
past you on the Tuesday?

Now obviously this would never
happen,

but if I wanted to move a
couple of head of cattle

or a parcel of guns late at night,

how would I be able to do that?

Of course, allowing that this could
never happen.

How are you?

Beautiful day, thank God!

-Do you want it filled?
-No, just a gallon will see me right.

Quiet enough about here?

Not a lot of passing trade,
I'm guessing?

Local folk, farmers, the main?

Aye.
Mostly.

I was thinking you might notice
a strange car going past,

especially at night.

Dublin car?

Week or so ago.

Come here till I show you.

-You see that log down there?
-I do.

-That's the border.
-OK.

You're the wrong side of it.

I'm under no obligation

to tell an Inspector of the Gardai
anything, at all.

Even so...

Mal is coming to take you home.

This is my home.

Phoebe...

..I have to ask you this.

Did Leslie ever give you anything to
take?

Drugs, I mean.

Leslie took things.
I don't know what.

But he never offered me any.

Were they pills?

He said it was his medicine.

He got it from the man
who lives in there.

What man?

Dr. Kreutz.

Phoebe!

Thank God you're all right.

Come on.
I'll take you home.

Sir.

-Who found him?
-I did.

He's taken a hell of a beating.
He was probably asking for it.

Pervert.

What do you mean?
Show him the pictures.

Found a whole pile of dirty pictures
in his desk drawers.

There's Deirdre Hunt.

-And Geraldine Millican.
-Drugs too.

All sorts of stuff.

Here's your heroin.

Billy Hunt's company.

Do you recognise this, Mr. Hunt?

Of course.

It's diamorphine.

Where'd you get it?

Does the name Hakim Kreutz mean
anything to you?

Yes, he's a doctor.

He lives in that building,

the flat below your niece.

Used to.

How do you mean?

He's dead, Mr. Hunt, beaten to death.

Did White kill him?

How did you know him?

I told you, he's a doctor.

He's on my list.

And did you know he was struck off
in 1952 for self prescribing?

How much did he pay you for your
samples?

Enough to keep Deirdre in style,
I suppose.

Did you know what he was doing with
them?

He was a backstreet pharmacist,
Billy.

He cut your diamorphine into
sleeping pills

and gave them to
wealthy women in exchange for

pornographic pictures of themselves.

But you know that, don't you,
Mr. Hunt?

Let me suggest something to you,
and correct me if I'm wrong.

Leslie White sent you
photographs of Mrs. Hunt

the morning you went to Belfast,

but I'm guessing you didn't see them
until after you arrived at the hotel.

And you were outraged, of course you
were.

You got straight back in the car
and headed for home,

but the customs post in Killeen is
closed at night, isn't it, Billy?

So you were trapped in
the North until morning,

unless you crossed the border

by the unapproved roads.

When did you realise you had a nice
little alibi?

After you beat Kreutz?

Or when you got home?

Was Deirdre already in the bath,
was she conscious, Billy,

did she look at you?

Was it easy to drown her?

She drowned herself.

-She was found in the sea!
-Yes, she was.

But who was it that put her there?

She was drowned in FRESH water,
Billy...

..not sea water.

And the irony of the thing is,

that if you had simply left her in
her bath, Billy,

we'd not have been any the wiser.

The hell with it.

She got what she deserved.

She was always my little angel.

I thought the world of her.

I could never believe my luck that
she'd settled down with me.

Then I saw the photographs.

-Photographs of your wife.
-Yes.

Of my wife.
Of my wife!

I couldn't get them out of my head.

This world of filth!

This other side to her I knew
nothing about.

I suppose they'll be
sending Mr. Pierrepoint

to Mountjoy to see me off then,
Mr. Hackett?

Strange to think I've
been on this path

since I first laid
eyes on that woman.

It's the women.
Isn't it?

It's always the women.

What they do to us.

What we do to them.

Quirke.

It's Sarah.

What about her, Mal?

She's gone.

Mal, I just want to say that I...

She's dead.

Quirke.

She died.

She just collapsed.

'She said she had
a pain in her head.

She fell down and died.

I got her to the hospital but...

it was no good.

She's gone.

It must-must have been a cerebral
haemorrhage.

I'm...
I'm at the hospital now.

How are things, Mr. Quirke?

You're hell bent on killing yourself
with liquor.

Help me.

I just know something terrible has
happened to April.

-Get off me, Jimmy.
-Watch your step!

You think I don't know
you were carrying on

with your own brother's wife?

-What would you say that is?
-Maybe I should marry you.

I don't need your forgiveness
and I don't need anybody else's.

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