Wild Bill (2019): Season 1, Episode 3 - Episode #1.3 - full transcript
Who needs an app?
This is my life.
How are you two?
Hi.
Proposed redundancies?
Drakes, Cobley...
Me?
Morning.
Jesus...
They're, erm... They're just proposals.
Aren't they?
All right?
What's up?
I'm meant to be taking him for a biopsy.
His name's Ralph.
Ralph Walsh.
He's 87. A nice old boy. I've
been knocking, but no answer.
Ralph? Ralph, it's the police.
We're going to have to break
in. There might be some noise.
Here, pass us that brick, Drake.
Old folk, hey?
Ralph?
Ralph? Are you in here, mate?
Just give us a minute, yeah?
- Ralph?
- Mr Walsh?
Are you all right, mate?
Ralph, it's the police.
Sorry, Sean.
Islands In The Stream, Up
Where We Belong, Don't Give Up.
It's all duets.
Poor sod.
His Dolly Parton departed.
The old boy was RAF.
Right, Ralph, are you in here?
Shit...
He's been robbed!
Tell me about it.
The old loop and tug.
A coat hanger through to
the latch and you're in.
Why don't they fit bloody deadlocks?
Well, when Ralph gets home from
wherever he is, you can ask him.
No wonder the old folks around
here are always getting robbed.
The burglar's left us a present.
We're going to get this little toerag.
'This weekend, the Boston
Historic And Antiques Show,
a celebration of Lincolnshire's past.
Come and see the spectacular...
- things nobody wants or needs any more.
- Grandpa would like it.
You know, it's not too late
to send him a birthday card.
I'll get it.
The last mailing day is Thursday!
600 job cuts over four years.
Do you care to comment, Chief Constable?
Wait... Where did you
get that information?
Your redundancy proposals
were leaked last night.
Hi, Mr Hixon.
Nice jimjams.
Dad, this is Astrid. We're
going to get the bus together.
Unless you have any objections...
Did Grandpa judge your friends, too?
He put some of my friends
in front of an actual judge.
How many beat cops are
going to lose their jobs
because of your DNA thingy?
You've already cut
night shifts by 40%.
The custody suite in Skegvegas
isn't even manned on a Saturday night.
I mean, Saturday night!
You're going to have to speak
to me sooner or later, William.
Muriel, you're going to be
all right. You're still young.
You've got transferable skills.
What about me, hey?
Hey, Ralph Walsh. Old person.
Breaking and entry at Fenmarsh.
He's probably staying
with his sister in Grimsby
or he might be playing hide the Spitfire
with one of the old widow wenches.
What? Even my old dad cleans up
at Fenmarsh. He's an ugly bastard.
- Was there much taken?
- It looks like it, yeah.
Empty jewellery boxes, draws pulled out.
We got a glove, though. The
lab's squeezing it for DNA juice.
- So, we got a DNA hit?
- Do you hear a noise, Muriel?
Sounds a bit like someone
castrating a ferret.
And you'd know exactly what
that sounds like, wouldn't you?
Is it true?
The cuts?
The redundancies aren't finalised.
- This process is going to take a few weeks.
- Weeks?
- So, DNA. Yes? No?
- Yes, Muriel.
The labs say they've got a hit.
Great.
Send it my way. It's exactly what I need.
Ha! I know exactly what you need.
Let's catch this guy quick
and make it a good news day.
Why do you care so much?
It's only a burglary.
- Don't worry.
- Cheers.
I'll see what I can find at Ralph's.
Grandma's frisky, number 60.
Chief Constable Bill Hixon,
serving the community.
You're on a lucky streak.
I got your message. You really want
to talk about police job cuts here?
Yes. And I realise that Lisa
doesn't want a boring story,
she wants a real story.
Like, "Boston pensioners
still going strong."
"They fought a war and they
don't need Bill Hixon."
Print any of them.
"Boston pensioners' safety sacrificed"
"to fund top cop's supercomputer."
Supercomputer? This isn't 1979.
It's a database.
How about this for a story...?
"Octogenarian Ralph Walsh,
home robbed, ransacked."
"Watch 21st-century
tech catch who did it."
What, so you're saying
that your DNA thing,
that that's going to catch the thief?
- Is that a promise?
- Promises are for children, Lisa.
OK, so, Bill...
- Excuse me.
- Rise and shine, 29.
Yes, Muriel. Give me the good news.
Have you got our suspect in custody?
A touch of Chinese whispers.
The DNA isn't on file.
Muriel, I need this.
Cobley said you had a match.
Yeah, well, Cobley says a lot of things.
The best we've got is a partial match
to someone who works at Boston Library.
Excuse me, I'm looking for Alma Smith.
Smith comma Alma.
Chick lit.
Nothing coming up. Sorry.
You're Alma Smith.
I take my laughs where I can get them.
You're... Canadian.
American.
I knew that.
I just don't like insulting
people to their faces.
I'm Chief Constable Bill Hixon.
Are you OK?
I felt amazing at happy hour.
This morning...
not so much.
Hey, hey, Shelley, love.
That plastic shatters.
All right, I'm going to take that.
But I'll give you that.
You're good with kids. Do you have any?
No, it's just me.
No nieces, nephews, nothing.
Not even a cat. Is this leading somewhere?
- Are you all right, Bernie?
- Yeah.
Re-shelf them returns for me, will you?
Sure.
You were cautioned a few weeks
ago about harassing a PCSO.
It was a demo against the library cuts.
And I didn't harass him.
I might have puked on him a little.
This was also after happy hour?
When you were at the station,
your DNA was put on file.
- It's a permanent programme.
- I know, I read The Stump.
So, what have I done now?
It's not you.
But your DNA was a partial
match to a crime scene.
- I don't follow.
- We're looking for your father.
Join the fucking queue.
- Still no sign?
- No.
Is the bedroom down here?
There was this guy, John, Joe maybe.
He used to hang around the
flat when I was little.
And you think he might
have been your father?
He was my dad, but Mum didn't tell
me about him until she was dying.
Too late by then, he was gone for good.
He didn't even leave his
name on my birth certificate.
Actually, you know what?
This...
is pretty much the
last time that I saw him.
Got your work cut out, haven't you,
if he's had a haircut or got lenses?
He could be anyone by now.
So, what's he done, then?
John.
- Or Joe.
- Burglary.
You were expecting something different?
Well...
From the stories I've heard about him,
I was expecting something worse.
- Has anyone checked the garage?
- Not yet, no.
Chest freezer.
No, I'm not opening that.
I've got form with
freezers and body parts.
Jesus...
Give me a hand with all this crap, Drakes.
It's all right, he's not in here.
I know.
You promised the media
that your DNA database
would catch a burglar.
Oops, it hasn't. And now
we're looking for a killer.
It's very cute, you called
The Stump "the media".
Keith won't find it cute.
Pensioners are his core electorate.
He's big at Fenmarsh. You'd better
be on your way to nab the bastard.
Lydia, I'm not really
in the nabbing business.
I promise you, progress
is being made somewhere.
We don't even have a
current ID for this guy.
Father of Alma Smith,
possibly called John or Joe.
No-one's seen him in 15 years.
Er, where the bloody hell are you going?
They're your cuts. Face the music.
I'm letting the music seep in a little.
Nobody likes a song the
first time they hear it.
Well, it's not the first
time I've heard it.
And I still don't like it.
I didn't promise.
Pathology says his heart went.
But what caused it to go?
One more pill, one less,
a hand over the mouth...
I mean, even a good hard shout
in his ear might have pushed it.
But then, where we found him...
Ralph didn't roll himself
up in that carpet.
Thank you for this.
Erm, you knew him from the library?
History and stuff.
Mainly world wars.
It's this way, love.
That's Ralph Walsh.
I think you'd better
find my dad, don't you?
Pre-trial interview terminated.
Time 14:23.
You will be arraigned next Thursday.
Come on, why am I really here, Detective?
Do you know him? Last
seen about 15 years ago.
Old-school housebreaker, a broken
window, coat hanger, loop and tug.
Enjoying this, aren't you, Yeardsley?
I heard about the redundancies.
It looks like I got out just in time.
I'd still rather be me.
You know, walking out of here tonight.
Hixon's a "see you next Tuesday".
He'll end up in Miami
Beach. What about you?
Selling candyfloss on Cleethorpes Pier.
Our friend's impressed with you.
He helps those who help him.
His companies need security advisers,
maybe even a head of security...
Do you recognise him or not?
You've got something Oleg wants.
You took that coffee cup, didn't you?
I went back for it, it wasn't there.
That cup could give me
cause for a mistrial.
Hixon's screwed with evidence.
It could save both our skins.
Wait!
We lifted a loop and tug mid-'90s.
Notorious housebreaker, he was.
No swabs then.
He liked to pick on the oldies.
Check the arrest files for August '94.
Look for Henry Reeves.
Do your homework, Clarice.
I don't think she's
going to press charges.
- It was her sister who hit her.
- We're not here for that.
You want a statement.
I heard about poor Ralph.
Poor Ralph, is it? Come on.
Hey!
I'm Henry Reeves, but that's not me.
Look, I've kept my bib clean for years.
Yeah, well, your signature's all over it.
Old people, a wire coat hanger, the lot.
You've trimmed your beard
and lost your glasses,
but temptation doesn't leave, does it?
Maybe Ralph was already
dead when you broke in.
So you helped yourself. Why not?
And then you called us.
Just tell us what happened.
- It's still not me.
- Prove it.
Once I get onto that system, I'll
never get off. I know you lot.
'999 call, altercation, possible stabbing.
- Look, we've got urgent call-outs.
- I don't care if the whole town croaks.
There's only one way out of here,
Henry. Was it John back then or Joe?
JonJo.
JonJo Ryan.
That's his name.
I knew him.
JonJo taught me all the tricks.
He was a real pro.
So, I got caught, he didn't.
JonJo Ryan?
So you were his accomplice. Funny
you didn't mention it back then.
If you knew JonJo, you wouldn't either.
I ain't seen him since.
So, he's back.
And killing now.
Jesus, what time is it?
I've got to go.
I don't think Grandpa likes me.
That's the first Lord Harborough.
He led Henry VIII's massed troops
against a handful of unarmed monks
who had previously occupied
this area of prime real estate.
So, your family stole this land from God?
When Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries,
only Lincolnshire fought back.
Henry called it "the most brute
and beastly shire in the realm".
Then he never saw Skegness
on a Saturday night.
There is a kind of Harborough look.
If you get rid of the beard.
Nice detective work, Chief Hixon.
Unfortunately, my own origins are
rather more brute and beastly.
Yeah? An illicit affair between
a chambermaid and a 13th Duke?
Adopted.
So, you see, we do have
something in common.
Neither of us quite knows where we belong.
You never seem out of place to me.
You're doing that staring thing again.
Either you're getting a
reflection off that glass
- or you're feeling guilty about something.
- Reading Alma's file.
She was only ten when her mother died.
No dad.
No family.
So, she would have gone to foster care.
What would that look like here?
Well, there are good stories.
- And, erm, not such good stories.
- Yeah.
Dads...
So...
Do we have our killer?
So, this is where they've
been hiding the nightlife?
- Well, it is on Tuesdays.
- Lager.
I just get two for one on spirits.
The guy you arrested.
Has he coughed for it yet?
The right MO, the right age,
the right myopia.
But it's not him.
I didn't think it was.
I know Henry. He drinks in here.
- He's not my dad.
- No, he's not.
And forensics proves it. He's
exactly who he says he is.
A reformed robber.
He knew your dad, JonJo.
They robbed houses together.
I didn't know you were so
young when you lost your mom.
Was I under some obligation to tell you?
No.
Sorry.
You grow up and learn. You...
learn to keep your stuff to yourself.
Have you and your missus got kids?
A daughter, 14.
And the missus...
Is missed.
Yeah, I can tell.
It's good you've got each other.
So...
- What now?
- We got your dad's DNA from the glove.
We'll keep looking.
So, if something happens,
I'll let you know.
- Is that it?
- For now.
Kelsey!
Alma called. What you said
last night jogged her memory.
She thinks there's a recent
death that might be suspicious.
It's out in Fenmarsh,
the same place Ralph Walsh lived.
It might be we've missed another murder.
Welcome to Fenmarsh. Home to
the elderly and housebound.
Which may or may not explain why
the most popular loan every month
is bleeding Pet Cemetery.
This is Nora.
Just tell them, Nora, what
you told me about Stanley.
Well, I came in from Aldi,
and he was lying just there.
All twisted, like.
The report says the attic ladder was down.
They think he tried to climb
it and his heart gave out.
Can I ask, was he buried?
We could do an autopsy, see if
there's anything suspicious.
We burned him.
Six weeks ago, Thursday.
And I baked him into bits and pieces.
I heard it on Loose Women.
It helps you feel he's still with you.
Not those biscuits, though.
At least, I don't think so.
And it was around the time
Stanley died you were burgled?
I think so.
But it's all a bit of a blur,
you know, with what happened.
He never went up there.
No matter how much I nagged him to.
I just don't understand.
Do you think someone did
something to my Stanley?
- What do you think?
- I think it's just what it looks like.
He climbed the ladder, had a heart attack.
Sir... I think you need to see this.
It's the same as at Ralph's.
Classic loop and tug.
Cut the window, stick
a coat hanger through.
Whoever it is is clearly
targeting old folk.
That is definitely not Nora's.
The same MO as Ralph, sir.
Shit.
Forensics from the two
crime scenes match, sir.
The DNA's back from the hair
follicles. It's JonJo again.
Alma's dad.
So, we have two possible victims,
Ralph Walsh and Stanley Green.
Well, so far, sir. Who knows
how many there might be?
It's the tip of the iceberg.
We might have missed loads of others.
Is this really happening, Bill?
Well, I don't know.
In the Sartrean sense or
the Nietzschean sense?
Yes, your size sevens are on my desk.
And, yes, we have a murderer
who's preying on seniors.
Why couldn't the toerag target junkies
or children too young to vote?
What leads do you have?
Well, we know who he is, we
just don't know where he is.
No.
Nobody knows.
In an age of Snapchat,
where I can send pictures of my
genitals to anybody in the world,
we can't find one bearded scrote
in the least populated region of England.
I mean, somebody doesn't completely
disappear just like that, do they?
We do a record.
Bloody ridiculous.
And this is on you, by the way. You
and your bloody stupid promises.
I didn't promise.
- Yes, you did.
- I did not!
You did.
I didn't promise!
Who the hell are you, JonJo?
Every time, Dad.
Every time someone knocks...
you put this on.
Yeah?
- Yeah.
- And...
- double lock.
- Got it.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
- Have you got it?
- Yes!
OK.
I've got to go.
I was told you were back here.
Are you still telling it like it is, Lisa?
What's the headline today?
"Old folks too scared
to go to seniors' bingo"
"after two OAPs murdered
by a night-time raider."
It's not true. Don't write it.
What part?
Two deaths or two burglaries?
Who told you?
You just did.
Or at least you confirmed it.
In fairness, I never doubted my source.
Very few people knew about this.
Who was it, a disgruntled cop?
I never believe a word the police tell me.
Did The Stump pay for that hangover?
Why did you tell them the
old men were murdered?
I thought you'd be out there
getting DNA off everybody.
Finding him.
That's your pitch, isn't it?
Anyone, anywhere.
Sorry.
I'm a bit wrecked.
If you keep drinking, you'll get fired.
Fired? Nobody else wants this job.
You've seen them round here.
In the summer, it's the heat.
In the winter, it's the cold.
All year round, it's the loneliness.
This is England.
We hate our old folk.
We don't visit them.
We don't listen to them.
We cut their fuel allowances.
We sell them broadband when
they don't even have a computer.
And sometimes we break into their
house, thump them on the head,
steal their jewellery
and shit in their beds.
Alma, you knew both Ralph and Stanley
and they borrowed books from here.
Yeah. Maybe I killed them.
I'm just trying to find your father.
You don't think I tried to find him?
I thought you lot would do better.
It stood to reason, he had a record.
He never held down a job. God
knows where he came from.
It seemed like he only turned
up to knock my mum about.
You lot looked for him
when my mum died, but...
he was well gone.
And he left his shitty motorbike.
And my mum sold that for
three bottles of Buckfast.
I hate him.
You're not your father.
You care about people.
But you drink too much.
I get why.
But I wish you wouldn't.
I'm coming, Bernie.
It's not you. It's him.
You left this on my desk.
It's been playing Living In The
Prayer for the last ten minutes.
That'll be my office.
It says "school" nine times.
Excuse me.
A picture paints a thousand words.
Security cameras, a little more.
Sneaking unsuitable boys and
alcohol into school grounds
is not the Queen Anne's way.
I have no choice but to suspend Kelsey.
She is refusing to cooperate
with our investigation.
Investigation?
- We didn't kill the unsuitable boys.
- Kelsey!
I'm so sorry. I don't know
what's gotten into her.
I heard what happened. I
went to Queen Anne's myself.
I sit on the school board.
Astrid's got form.
Then why is Kelsey the
only one who's suspended?
Astrid's parents are Van Dorans.
So, any trouble gets buried
under the new swimming pool
her parents just paid for.
Kelsey wants to leave Queen Anne's.
It's not for everyone.
Should I let her?
I'm not exactly qualified
to give that sort of advice.
I would make a terrible mother.
I'm not...
I'm not sure I've got
that sort of love in me.
Well, I was terrified of
Kelsey when Ruth died.
I just thought Kelsey would
break apart at any moment.
And Ruth was never like that, though.
She would just get in
there and scoop her up.
You said it was a couple
of years ago now, but...
We'd been skiing, just
Ruth and I, and she fell.
Hit her head.
Had a headache, but seemed fine.
Went to sleep that night and...
never woke up.
So, now I've got to learn how to...
scoop up my daughter.
JonJo Ryan, a petty thief,
who disappeared 15 years back.
He's recently resurfaced.
He's still using his old MO,
the classic loop and tug.
He worked with Henry
Reeves back in the day,
but he's now operating solo.
And this time, he has a possible
two murders to add to his name.
He's a loner. Private. Aggressively so.
But he's starting to take chances.
This is what we think he looks like now.
He's cruel.
More calculated, as
opposed to opportunistic.
- He targets the isolated and vulnerable.
- Sounds familiar.
Known victims are old men.
Unresolved father issues,
maybe. The trouble is...
Excuse me. DC Yeardsley, thank you.
Cobley, do you want to
stop sucking on your teeth?
This is a very valuable profile.
DC Yeardsley, thank you for that.
And I can't believe I'm
going to say this, but...
we're not going to find
this guy behind a PowerPoint.
We need boots on the ground,
we need to go door to door.
Let's get his image out there,
let's get it in the public's faces.
That way they're more likely
to work with our DNA swabs,
maybe give us a lead that's actionable.
- It sounds a lot like...
- Overtime, PC Cobley.
You see, I can say the word.
Find him.
Nobody disappears into thin air.
We've got officers taking DNA
in Wrangle, Freestone and Butterwick.
And in South Boston, we're
distributing JonJo Ryan Photofits.
There you go, that's
what I'm talking about.
Hey... You haven't just been
sitting there all day, have you?
Just because you're
suspended doesn't mean...
I think that's exactly what it means.
Suspended in time and space,
like the kale in your smoothie.
Maybe I should talk to the school.
- Grovel a little.
- Because it's the best school?
And the best schools make
the best people, right?
You know what, grab your coat.
There's somewhere I need to be
and you need some fresh air.
Bernie!
This is a library!
Bernie...
Could you tell Alma that Bill
Hixon is here to see her?
No.
This is my daughter Kelsey.
I need to update her on the investigation.
She's having a duvet day. She's sick.
She's sick quite a lot with
her drinking, isn't she?
Alma doesn't drink.
Not alcohol.
Sure.
Can I borrow this, please?
You do not have a library card.
And I hear there's quite a waiting
list for this particular title.
Ralph Walsh borrowed this.
Bernie was right. Alma's sick.
All right, everyone.
Muriel, Sean and, er...
Chewie.
OK, listen up.
What is it, sir?
Dead men do not return library books.
Henry.
Are you OK?
I need a drink.
You do, don't you?
What's up?
I've just come from Skirbeck.
A nice old geezer.
Tony Cobley.
Heart gave out.
I've taken the body down to the morgue,
but the police haven't
been to his flat yet.
They reckon they can't get there
for at least a couple of hours.
Shit.
I'm sorry.
JonJo's your dad.
He didn't say.
Do you want me to tell you
all that stuff about him?
How we used to rob back in the day.
All the tricks of the trade.
- What was that all about?
- I don't know.
I'm sorry.
Never mind.
I'd rather drink alone.
If JonJo is back...
I wouldn't want to meet
him down some dark alley.
Hello?
You...
Henry said you were...
Alma, Alma...
Stop.
We know what you did.
You left us a very good trail.
This is your father's glove, isn't it?
The one you left for us at Ralph's.
You knew we'd find his DNA on it.
But at Nora's you used the
hair from the bike helmet.
It's all I had of him.
- Has she been drinking again?
- That's enough.
She doesn't drink.
She's sick.
I'm dying, Bill.
I know you are, sweetheart.
I know you are.
The only other thing I got from my dad.
HH blood, one in a million.
So, only you would be a
match for a transplant.
Do you know how many HH livers have
come up on the transplant list?
Not one, ever.
I'm sorry.
Bloody Pet Cemetery.
I should have left it on Ralph's bedside.
But you know the waiting
list on that modern classic.
Ralph didn't show up at the library.
- He was never late with his returns.
- You realised he could help you.
Make it look like he'd
been murdered, robbed.
- You wanted us to help you find your dad.
- Stupid.
I didn't think that it would work.
It was a good try...
what you did.
Talking to The Stump.
Nora's house.
You kept us interested.
Don't think I didn't try
everything else to find my dad.
He just...
disappeared.
He didn't want me.
He didn't know you.
The last time I saw him...
it was the middle of the night.
I woke up, he was sitting on my bed.
He seemed upset.
He told me the devil had got his soul.
He's dead, isn't he?
We're going to keep looking for him.
But I think you're right.
Poor Ralph was slumped over the
kitchen table when I found him.
It's a terrible thing to be on your own.
It's terrible.
The news is out.
Some praise, for once.
It won't last.
Not much does.
Yeah, well, Yeardsley, it's not personal.
You're an above-average
detective. Miles above.
You care. Not everybody does.
Thanks.
Well, I did an above-average
check on the server.
- Guess what I found?
- That I leaked the cuts.
It's the best and easiest way to
get the information out there.
And you're fine.
You're young.
Cobley isn't.
The best thing he can hope
for is watchman in Iceland.
It's a shop.
And you don't know I'll be fine, neither.
The governors met this morning
and it has been determined
that Kelsey will serve a
suspension of no less...
Suspensions run in our family.
And quitting, too.
What if we looked at this in a
different light? I'm a man of means.
What if I said that I would pay for
a resurfacing of the sports court?
- Or maybe building a new library?
- Well...
Obviously, we'd have to
look at all aspects of...
- Dad!
- I wasn't going to do it.
I just wanted to see the look
on her face when I asked.
God, we just outsource
everything, don't we?
From our kids to our parents,
who pay other people to do the
things we don't want to do.
Teachers and nurses to wipe
their arses so we don't have to.
It doesn't work. Doesn't work
for them, doesn't work for us.
It works for you.
I mean, look at your
handbag. What does that cost?
2,500 bucks? I was just
at a hospital with a girl.
Five of those handbags would
have bought her a new liver.
It would have saved her life.
That, or a dad who cared about her.
I don't blame you. You're
just a brochure in human form.
But you shouldn't pretend to care.
And we shouldn't pretend to believe you.
Sorry, Kels, I fucked up
another school for you.
Sorry? That was cool.
Let's get out of here.
Don't deceive yourself, Mr Hixon.
Your daughter was the prime
mover in this sordid event.
Her accomplice, Miss Van
Doran, told us everything.
That is the only reason Astrid
is being treated leniently.
I'm sorry, could you say that again?
You let one of them off
for ratting out the other?
You gave us Henry Reeves.
But you knew it was his
accomplice all along, didn't you?
JonJo Ryan, he gave up Henry, didn't he?
I'm willing to bet a few others.
JonJo gave up half the
crims in South Boston.
Out of the goodness of his heart?
Maybe. Maybe he found a conscience.
Or maybe he knew a good
deal when he saw one.
Immunity for information.
Where is he? We know you know.
What's in it for me?
You get to save a girl's life.
No. A girl's life doesn't cut it for me.
What else have you got?
No! Take a walk.
Take a walk, now.
Go fuck yourself.
What about you, hey, Muriel?
What have you got that
might save a girl's life?
Come on. It's just a bloody coffee cup.
How bad do you want JonJo Ryan?
I don't know what made that
bastard Blair change his mind.
Does it matter?
Maybe he found a
conscience, like JonJo did.
Yeah, I'm not a woman, I'm a cop.
Not in the eyes of God, Yeardsley.
Hi.
I called. I'm looking for a JonJo Ryan.
Come in.
JonJo Ryan's dead.
I'm sorry.
I'm not.
He was a nasty bastard.
St Ignatius, the founder
of the Jesuit order,
he'd been a nasty bastard, too.
He believed we had to walk
in the shoes of Christ.
Perinde ac cadaver.
My Latin's a little rusty, but
that's something about a corpse.
It's only when we give up on this life...
can we be reborn in Jesus.
You're JonJo Ryan.
You were JonJo Ryan.
Well, I've been looking for you.
You want to talk about the past. I don't.
What about Alma? Can we talk about her?
I was poison for her.
Yeah. You were.
But you have something that
only a father can give her now.
This is my life.
How are you two?
Hi.
Proposed redundancies?
Drakes, Cobley...
Me?
Morning.
Jesus...
They're, erm... They're just proposals.
Aren't they?
All right?
What's up?
I'm meant to be taking him for a biopsy.
His name's Ralph.
Ralph Walsh.
He's 87. A nice old boy. I've
been knocking, but no answer.
Ralph? Ralph, it's the police.
We're going to have to break
in. There might be some noise.
Here, pass us that brick, Drake.
Old folk, hey?
Ralph?
Ralph? Are you in here, mate?
Just give us a minute, yeah?
- Ralph?
- Mr Walsh?
Are you all right, mate?
Ralph, it's the police.
Sorry, Sean.
Islands In The Stream, Up
Where We Belong, Don't Give Up.
It's all duets.
Poor sod.
His Dolly Parton departed.
The old boy was RAF.
Right, Ralph, are you in here?
Shit...
He's been robbed!
Tell me about it.
The old loop and tug.
A coat hanger through to
the latch and you're in.
Why don't they fit bloody deadlocks?
Well, when Ralph gets home from
wherever he is, you can ask him.
No wonder the old folks around
here are always getting robbed.
The burglar's left us a present.
We're going to get this little toerag.
'This weekend, the Boston
Historic And Antiques Show,
a celebration of Lincolnshire's past.
Come and see the spectacular...
- things nobody wants or needs any more.
- Grandpa would like it.
You know, it's not too late
to send him a birthday card.
I'll get it.
The last mailing day is Thursday!
600 job cuts over four years.
Do you care to comment, Chief Constable?
Wait... Where did you
get that information?
Your redundancy proposals
were leaked last night.
Hi, Mr Hixon.
Nice jimjams.
Dad, this is Astrid. We're
going to get the bus together.
Unless you have any objections...
Did Grandpa judge your friends, too?
He put some of my friends
in front of an actual judge.
How many beat cops are
going to lose their jobs
because of your DNA thingy?
You've already cut
night shifts by 40%.
The custody suite in Skegvegas
isn't even manned on a Saturday night.
I mean, Saturday night!
You're going to have to speak
to me sooner or later, William.
Muriel, you're going to be
all right. You're still young.
You've got transferable skills.
What about me, hey?
Hey, Ralph Walsh. Old person.
Breaking and entry at Fenmarsh.
He's probably staying
with his sister in Grimsby
or he might be playing hide the Spitfire
with one of the old widow wenches.
What? Even my old dad cleans up
at Fenmarsh. He's an ugly bastard.
- Was there much taken?
- It looks like it, yeah.
Empty jewellery boxes, draws pulled out.
We got a glove, though. The
lab's squeezing it for DNA juice.
- So, we got a DNA hit?
- Do you hear a noise, Muriel?
Sounds a bit like someone
castrating a ferret.
And you'd know exactly what
that sounds like, wouldn't you?
Is it true?
The cuts?
The redundancies aren't finalised.
- This process is going to take a few weeks.
- Weeks?
- So, DNA. Yes? No?
- Yes, Muriel.
The labs say they've got a hit.
Great.
Send it my way. It's exactly what I need.
Ha! I know exactly what you need.
Let's catch this guy quick
and make it a good news day.
Why do you care so much?
It's only a burglary.
- Don't worry.
- Cheers.
I'll see what I can find at Ralph's.
Grandma's frisky, number 60.
Chief Constable Bill Hixon,
serving the community.
You're on a lucky streak.
I got your message. You really want
to talk about police job cuts here?
Yes. And I realise that Lisa
doesn't want a boring story,
she wants a real story.
Like, "Boston pensioners
still going strong."
"They fought a war and they
don't need Bill Hixon."
Print any of them.
"Boston pensioners' safety sacrificed"
"to fund top cop's supercomputer."
Supercomputer? This isn't 1979.
It's a database.
How about this for a story...?
"Octogenarian Ralph Walsh,
home robbed, ransacked."
"Watch 21st-century
tech catch who did it."
What, so you're saying
that your DNA thing,
that that's going to catch the thief?
- Is that a promise?
- Promises are for children, Lisa.
OK, so, Bill...
- Excuse me.
- Rise and shine, 29.
Yes, Muriel. Give me the good news.
Have you got our suspect in custody?
A touch of Chinese whispers.
The DNA isn't on file.
Muriel, I need this.
Cobley said you had a match.
Yeah, well, Cobley says a lot of things.
The best we've got is a partial match
to someone who works at Boston Library.
Excuse me, I'm looking for Alma Smith.
Smith comma Alma.
Chick lit.
Nothing coming up. Sorry.
You're Alma Smith.
I take my laughs where I can get them.
You're... Canadian.
American.
I knew that.
I just don't like insulting
people to their faces.
I'm Chief Constable Bill Hixon.
Are you OK?
I felt amazing at happy hour.
This morning...
not so much.
Hey, hey, Shelley, love.
That plastic shatters.
All right, I'm going to take that.
But I'll give you that.
You're good with kids. Do you have any?
No, it's just me.
No nieces, nephews, nothing.
Not even a cat. Is this leading somewhere?
- Are you all right, Bernie?
- Yeah.
Re-shelf them returns for me, will you?
Sure.
You were cautioned a few weeks
ago about harassing a PCSO.
It was a demo against the library cuts.
And I didn't harass him.
I might have puked on him a little.
This was also after happy hour?
When you were at the station,
your DNA was put on file.
- It's a permanent programme.
- I know, I read The Stump.
So, what have I done now?
It's not you.
But your DNA was a partial
match to a crime scene.
- I don't follow.
- We're looking for your father.
Join the fucking queue.
- Still no sign?
- No.
Is the bedroom down here?
There was this guy, John, Joe maybe.
He used to hang around the
flat when I was little.
And you think he might
have been your father?
He was my dad, but Mum didn't tell
me about him until she was dying.
Too late by then, he was gone for good.
He didn't even leave his
name on my birth certificate.
Actually, you know what?
This...
is pretty much the
last time that I saw him.
Got your work cut out, haven't you,
if he's had a haircut or got lenses?
He could be anyone by now.
So, what's he done, then?
John.
- Or Joe.
- Burglary.
You were expecting something different?
Well...
From the stories I've heard about him,
I was expecting something worse.
- Has anyone checked the garage?
- Not yet, no.
Chest freezer.
No, I'm not opening that.
I've got form with
freezers and body parts.
Jesus...
Give me a hand with all this crap, Drakes.
It's all right, he's not in here.
I know.
You promised the media
that your DNA database
would catch a burglar.
Oops, it hasn't. And now
we're looking for a killer.
It's very cute, you called
The Stump "the media".
Keith won't find it cute.
Pensioners are his core electorate.
He's big at Fenmarsh. You'd better
be on your way to nab the bastard.
Lydia, I'm not really
in the nabbing business.
I promise you, progress
is being made somewhere.
We don't even have a
current ID for this guy.
Father of Alma Smith,
possibly called John or Joe.
No-one's seen him in 15 years.
Er, where the bloody hell are you going?
They're your cuts. Face the music.
I'm letting the music seep in a little.
Nobody likes a song the
first time they hear it.
Well, it's not the first
time I've heard it.
And I still don't like it.
I didn't promise.
Pathology says his heart went.
But what caused it to go?
One more pill, one less,
a hand over the mouth...
I mean, even a good hard shout
in his ear might have pushed it.
But then, where we found him...
Ralph didn't roll himself
up in that carpet.
Thank you for this.
Erm, you knew him from the library?
History and stuff.
Mainly world wars.
It's this way, love.
That's Ralph Walsh.
I think you'd better
find my dad, don't you?
Pre-trial interview terminated.
Time 14:23.
You will be arraigned next Thursday.
Come on, why am I really here, Detective?
Do you know him? Last
seen about 15 years ago.
Old-school housebreaker, a broken
window, coat hanger, loop and tug.
Enjoying this, aren't you, Yeardsley?
I heard about the redundancies.
It looks like I got out just in time.
I'd still rather be me.
You know, walking out of here tonight.
Hixon's a "see you next Tuesday".
He'll end up in Miami
Beach. What about you?
Selling candyfloss on Cleethorpes Pier.
Our friend's impressed with you.
He helps those who help him.
His companies need security advisers,
maybe even a head of security...
Do you recognise him or not?
You've got something Oleg wants.
You took that coffee cup, didn't you?
I went back for it, it wasn't there.
That cup could give me
cause for a mistrial.
Hixon's screwed with evidence.
It could save both our skins.
Wait!
We lifted a loop and tug mid-'90s.
Notorious housebreaker, he was.
No swabs then.
He liked to pick on the oldies.
Check the arrest files for August '94.
Look for Henry Reeves.
Do your homework, Clarice.
I don't think she's
going to press charges.
- It was her sister who hit her.
- We're not here for that.
You want a statement.
I heard about poor Ralph.
Poor Ralph, is it? Come on.
Hey!
I'm Henry Reeves, but that's not me.
Look, I've kept my bib clean for years.
Yeah, well, your signature's all over it.
Old people, a wire coat hanger, the lot.
You've trimmed your beard
and lost your glasses,
but temptation doesn't leave, does it?
Maybe Ralph was already
dead when you broke in.
So you helped yourself. Why not?
And then you called us.
Just tell us what happened.
- It's still not me.
- Prove it.
Once I get onto that system, I'll
never get off. I know you lot.
'999 call, altercation, possible stabbing.
- Look, we've got urgent call-outs.
- I don't care if the whole town croaks.
There's only one way out of here,
Henry. Was it John back then or Joe?
JonJo.
JonJo Ryan.
That's his name.
I knew him.
JonJo taught me all the tricks.
He was a real pro.
So, I got caught, he didn't.
JonJo Ryan?
So you were his accomplice. Funny
you didn't mention it back then.
If you knew JonJo, you wouldn't either.
I ain't seen him since.
So, he's back.
And killing now.
Jesus, what time is it?
I've got to go.
I don't think Grandpa likes me.
That's the first Lord Harborough.
He led Henry VIII's massed troops
against a handful of unarmed monks
who had previously occupied
this area of prime real estate.
So, your family stole this land from God?
When Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries,
only Lincolnshire fought back.
Henry called it "the most brute
and beastly shire in the realm".
Then he never saw Skegness
on a Saturday night.
There is a kind of Harborough look.
If you get rid of the beard.
Nice detective work, Chief Hixon.
Unfortunately, my own origins are
rather more brute and beastly.
Yeah? An illicit affair between
a chambermaid and a 13th Duke?
Adopted.
So, you see, we do have
something in common.
Neither of us quite knows where we belong.
You never seem out of place to me.
You're doing that staring thing again.
Either you're getting a
reflection off that glass
- or you're feeling guilty about something.
- Reading Alma's file.
She was only ten when her mother died.
No dad.
No family.
So, she would have gone to foster care.
What would that look like here?
Well, there are good stories.
- And, erm, not such good stories.
- Yeah.
Dads...
So...
Do we have our killer?
So, this is where they've
been hiding the nightlife?
- Well, it is on Tuesdays.
- Lager.
I just get two for one on spirits.
The guy you arrested.
Has he coughed for it yet?
The right MO, the right age,
the right myopia.
But it's not him.
I didn't think it was.
I know Henry. He drinks in here.
- He's not my dad.
- No, he's not.
And forensics proves it. He's
exactly who he says he is.
A reformed robber.
He knew your dad, JonJo.
They robbed houses together.
I didn't know you were so
young when you lost your mom.
Was I under some obligation to tell you?
No.
Sorry.
You grow up and learn. You...
learn to keep your stuff to yourself.
Have you and your missus got kids?
A daughter, 14.
And the missus...
Is missed.
Yeah, I can tell.
It's good you've got each other.
So...
- What now?
- We got your dad's DNA from the glove.
We'll keep looking.
So, if something happens,
I'll let you know.
- Is that it?
- For now.
Kelsey!
Alma called. What you said
last night jogged her memory.
She thinks there's a recent
death that might be suspicious.
It's out in Fenmarsh,
the same place Ralph Walsh lived.
It might be we've missed another murder.
Welcome to Fenmarsh. Home to
the elderly and housebound.
Which may or may not explain why
the most popular loan every month
is bleeding Pet Cemetery.
This is Nora.
Just tell them, Nora, what
you told me about Stanley.
Well, I came in from Aldi,
and he was lying just there.
All twisted, like.
The report says the attic ladder was down.
They think he tried to climb
it and his heart gave out.
Can I ask, was he buried?
We could do an autopsy, see if
there's anything suspicious.
We burned him.
Six weeks ago, Thursday.
And I baked him into bits and pieces.
I heard it on Loose Women.
It helps you feel he's still with you.
Not those biscuits, though.
At least, I don't think so.
And it was around the time
Stanley died you were burgled?
I think so.
But it's all a bit of a blur,
you know, with what happened.
He never went up there.
No matter how much I nagged him to.
I just don't understand.
Do you think someone did
something to my Stanley?
- What do you think?
- I think it's just what it looks like.
He climbed the ladder, had a heart attack.
Sir... I think you need to see this.
It's the same as at Ralph's.
Classic loop and tug.
Cut the window, stick
a coat hanger through.
Whoever it is is clearly
targeting old folk.
That is definitely not Nora's.
The same MO as Ralph, sir.
Shit.
Forensics from the two
crime scenes match, sir.
The DNA's back from the hair
follicles. It's JonJo again.
Alma's dad.
So, we have two possible victims,
Ralph Walsh and Stanley Green.
Well, so far, sir. Who knows
how many there might be?
It's the tip of the iceberg.
We might have missed loads of others.
Is this really happening, Bill?
Well, I don't know.
In the Sartrean sense or
the Nietzschean sense?
Yes, your size sevens are on my desk.
And, yes, we have a murderer
who's preying on seniors.
Why couldn't the toerag target junkies
or children too young to vote?
What leads do you have?
Well, we know who he is, we
just don't know where he is.
No.
Nobody knows.
In an age of Snapchat,
where I can send pictures of my
genitals to anybody in the world,
we can't find one bearded scrote
in the least populated region of England.
I mean, somebody doesn't completely
disappear just like that, do they?
We do a record.
Bloody ridiculous.
And this is on you, by the way. You
and your bloody stupid promises.
I didn't promise.
- Yes, you did.
- I did not!
You did.
I didn't promise!
Who the hell are you, JonJo?
Every time, Dad.
Every time someone knocks...
you put this on.
Yeah?
- Yeah.
- And...
- double lock.
- Got it.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
- Have you got it?
- Yes!
OK.
I've got to go.
I was told you were back here.
Are you still telling it like it is, Lisa?
What's the headline today?
"Old folks too scared
to go to seniors' bingo"
"after two OAPs murdered
by a night-time raider."
It's not true. Don't write it.
What part?
Two deaths or two burglaries?
Who told you?
You just did.
Or at least you confirmed it.
In fairness, I never doubted my source.
Very few people knew about this.
Who was it, a disgruntled cop?
I never believe a word the police tell me.
Did The Stump pay for that hangover?
Why did you tell them the
old men were murdered?
I thought you'd be out there
getting DNA off everybody.
Finding him.
That's your pitch, isn't it?
Anyone, anywhere.
Sorry.
I'm a bit wrecked.
If you keep drinking, you'll get fired.
Fired? Nobody else wants this job.
You've seen them round here.
In the summer, it's the heat.
In the winter, it's the cold.
All year round, it's the loneliness.
This is England.
We hate our old folk.
We don't visit them.
We don't listen to them.
We cut their fuel allowances.
We sell them broadband when
they don't even have a computer.
And sometimes we break into their
house, thump them on the head,
steal their jewellery
and shit in their beds.
Alma, you knew both Ralph and Stanley
and they borrowed books from here.
Yeah. Maybe I killed them.
I'm just trying to find your father.
You don't think I tried to find him?
I thought you lot would do better.
It stood to reason, he had a record.
He never held down a job. God
knows where he came from.
It seemed like he only turned
up to knock my mum about.
You lot looked for him
when my mum died, but...
he was well gone.
And he left his shitty motorbike.
And my mum sold that for
three bottles of Buckfast.
I hate him.
You're not your father.
You care about people.
But you drink too much.
I get why.
But I wish you wouldn't.
I'm coming, Bernie.
It's not you. It's him.
You left this on my desk.
It's been playing Living In The
Prayer for the last ten minutes.
That'll be my office.
It says "school" nine times.
Excuse me.
A picture paints a thousand words.
Security cameras, a little more.
Sneaking unsuitable boys and
alcohol into school grounds
is not the Queen Anne's way.
I have no choice but to suspend Kelsey.
She is refusing to cooperate
with our investigation.
Investigation?
- We didn't kill the unsuitable boys.
- Kelsey!
I'm so sorry. I don't know
what's gotten into her.
I heard what happened. I
went to Queen Anne's myself.
I sit on the school board.
Astrid's got form.
Then why is Kelsey the
only one who's suspended?
Astrid's parents are Van Dorans.
So, any trouble gets buried
under the new swimming pool
her parents just paid for.
Kelsey wants to leave Queen Anne's.
It's not for everyone.
Should I let her?
I'm not exactly qualified
to give that sort of advice.
I would make a terrible mother.
I'm not...
I'm not sure I've got
that sort of love in me.
Well, I was terrified of
Kelsey when Ruth died.
I just thought Kelsey would
break apart at any moment.
And Ruth was never like that, though.
She would just get in
there and scoop her up.
You said it was a couple
of years ago now, but...
We'd been skiing, just
Ruth and I, and she fell.
Hit her head.
Had a headache, but seemed fine.
Went to sleep that night and...
never woke up.
So, now I've got to learn how to...
scoop up my daughter.
JonJo Ryan, a petty thief,
who disappeared 15 years back.
He's recently resurfaced.
He's still using his old MO,
the classic loop and tug.
He worked with Henry
Reeves back in the day,
but he's now operating solo.
And this time, he has a possible
two murders to add to his name.
He's a loner. Private. Aggressively so.
But he's starting to take chances.
This is what we think he looks like now.
He's cruel.
More calculated, as
opposed to opportunistic.
- He targets the isolated and vulnerable.
- Sounds familiar.
Known victims are old men.
Unresolved father issues,
maybe. The trouble is...
Excuse me. DC Yeardsley, thank you.
Cobley, do you want to
stop sucking on your teeth?
This is a very valuable profile.
DC Yeardsley, thank you for that.
And I can't believe I'm
going to say this, but...
we're not going to find
this guy behind a PowerPoint.
We need boots on the ground,
we need to go door to door.
Let's get his image out there,
let's get it in the public's faces.
That way they're more likely
to work with our DNA swabs,
maybe give us a lead that's actionable.
- It sounds a lot like...
- Overtime, PC Cobley.
You see, I can say the word.
Find him.
Nobody disappears into thin air.
We've got officers taking DNA
in Wrangle, Freestone and Butterwick.
And in South Boston, we're
distributing JonJo Ryan Photofits.
There you go, that's
what I'm talking about.
Hey... You haven't just been
sitting there all day, have you?
Just because you're
suspended doesn't mean...
I think that's exactly what it means.
Suspended in time and space,
like the kale in your smoothie.
Maybe I should talk to the school.
- Grovel a little.
- Because it's the best school?
And the best schools make
the best people, right?
You know what, grab your coat.
There's somewhere I need to be
and you need some fresh air.
Bernie!
This is a library!
Bernie...
Could you tell Alma that Bill
Hixon is here to see her?
No.
This is my daughter Kelsey.
I need to update her on the investigation.
She's having a duvet day. She's sick.
She's sick quite a lot with
her drinking, isn't she?
Alma doesn't drink.
Not alcohol.
Sure.
Can I borrow this, please?
You do not have a library card.
And I hear there's quite a waiting
list for this particular title.
Ralph Walsh borrowed this.
Bernie was right. Alma's sick.
All right, everyone.
Muriel, Sean and, er...
Chewie.
OK, listen up.
What is it, sir?
Dead men do not return library books.
Henry.
Are you OK?
I need a drink.
You do, don't you?
What's up?
I've just come from Skirbeck.
A nice old geezer.
Tony Cobley.
Heart gave out.
I've taken the body down to the morgue,
but the police haven't
been to his flat yet.
They reckon they can't get there
for at least a couple of hours.
Shit.
I'm sorry.
JonJo's your dad.
He didn't say.
Do you want me to tell you
all that stuff about him?
How we used to rob back in the day.
All the tricks of the trade.
- What was that all about?
- I don't know.
I'm sorry.
Never mind.
I'd rather drink alone.
If JonJo is back...
I wouldn't want to meet
him down some dark alley.
Hello?
You...
Henry said you were...
Alma, Alma...
Stop.
We know what you did.
You left us a very good trail.
This is your father's glove, isn't it?
The one you left for us at Ralph's.
You knew we'd find his DNA on it.
But at Nora's you used the
hair from the bike helmet.
It's all I had of him.
- Has she been drinking again?
- That's enough.
She doesn't drink.
She's sick.
I'm dying, Bill.
I know you are, sweetheart.
I know you are.
The only other thing I got from my dad.
HH blood, one in a million.
So, only you would be a
match for a transplant.
Do you know how many HH livers have
come up on the transplant list?
Not one, ever.
I'm sorry.
Bloody Pet Cemetery.
I should have left it on Ralph's bedside.
But you know the waiting
list on that modern classic.
Ralph didn't show up at the library.
- He was never late with his returns.
- You realised he could help you.
Make it look like he'd
been murdered, robbed.
- You wanted us to help you find your dad.
- Stupid.
I didn't think that it would work.
It was a good try...
what you did.
Talking to The Stump.
Nora's house.
You kept us interested.
Don't think I didn't try
everything else to find my dad.
He just...
disappeared.
He didn't want me.
He didn't know you.
The last time I saw him...
it was the middle of the night.
I woke up, he was sitting on my bed.
He seemed upset.
He told me the devil had got his soul.
He's dead, isn't he?
We're going to keep looking for him.
But I think you're right.
Poor Ralph was slumped over the
kitchen table when I found him.
It's a terrible thing to be on your own.
It's terrible.
The news is out.
Some praise, for once.
It won't last.
Not much does.
Yeah, well, Yeardsley, it's not personal.
You're an above-average
detective. Miles above.
You care. Not everybody does.
Thanks.
Well, I did an above-average
check on the server.
- Guess what I found?
- That I leaked the cuts.
It's the best and easiest way to
get the information out there.
And you're fine.
You're young.
Cobley isn't.
The best thing he can hope
for is watchman in Iceland.
It's a shop.
And you don't know I'll be fine, neither.
The governors met this morning
and it has been determined
that Kelsey will serve a
suspension of no less...
Suspensions run in our family.
And quitting, too.
What if we looked at this in a
different light? I'm a man of means.
What if I said that I would pay for
a resurfacing of the sports court?
- Or maybe building a new library?
- Well...
Obviously, we'd have to
look at all aspects of...
- Dad!
- I wasn't going to do it.
I just wanted to see the look
on her face when I asked.
God, we just outsource
everything, don't we?
From our kids to our parents,
who pay other people to do the
things we don't want to do.
Teachers and nurses to wipe
their arses so we don't have to.
It doesn't work. Doesn't work
for them, doesn't work for us.
It works for you.
I mean, look at your
handbag. What does that cost?
2,500 bucks? I was just
at a hospital with a girl.
Five of those handbags would
have bought her a new liver.
It would have saved her life.
That, or a dad who cared about her.
I don't blame you. You're
just a brochure in human form.
But you shouldn't pretend to care.
And we shouldn't pretend to believe you.
Sorry, Kels, I fucked up
another school for you.
Sorry? That was cool.
Let's get out of here.
Don't deceive yourself, Mr Hixon.
Your daughter was the prime
mover in this sordid event.
Her accomplice, Miss Van
Doran, told us everything.
That is the only reason Astrid
is being treated leniently.
I'm sorry, could you say that again?
You let one of them off
for ratting out the other?
You gave us Henry Reeves.
But you knew it was his
accomplice all along, didn't you?
JonJo Ryan, he gave up Henry, didn't he?
I'm willing to bet a few others.
JonJo gave up half the
crims in South Boston.
Out of the goodness of his heart?
Maybe. Maybe he found a conscience.
Or maybe he knew a good
deal when he saw one.
Immunity for information.
Where is he? We know you know.
What's in it for me?
You get to save a girl's life.
No. A girl's life doesn't cut it for me.
What else have you got?
No! Take a walk.
Take a walk, now.
Go fuck yourself.
What about you, hey, Muriel?
What have you got that
might save a girl's life?
Come on. It's just a bloody coffee cup.
How bad do you want JonJo Ryan?
I don't know what made that
bastard Blair change his mind.
Does it matter?
Maybe he found a
conscience, like JonJo did.
Yeah, I'm not a woman, I'm a cop.
Not in the eyes of God, Yeardsley.
Hi.
I called. I'm looking for a JonJo Ryan.
Come in.
JonJo Ryan's dead.
I'm sorry.
I'm not.
He was a nasty bastard.
St Ignatius, the founder
of the Jesuit order,
he'd been a nasty bastard, too.
He believed we had to walk
in the shoes of Christ.
Perinde ac cadaver.
My Latin's a little rusty, but
that's something about a corpse.
It's only when we give up on this life...
can we be reborn in Jesus.
You're JonJo Ryan.
You were JonJo Ryan.
Well, I've been looking for you.
You want to talk about the past. I don't.
What about Alma? Can we talk about her?
I was poison for her.
Yeah. You were.
But you have something that
only a father can give her now.