All language subtitles for [SubtitleTools.com] Crime.S0203_British [English] (SUBRIP)

The carving on his chest reads
"A Strange Case #2."

This killer is using Durie's
death to make a statement.

My father bled compassion,
Inspector.

- Have some respect.
- And yet he

was brutally murdered and displayed.

You don't think Gayle
attacked Piggot-Wilkins, do you?

I read her as mixed up, but not dangerous.

Ay up, Lennox.
Long time no see.

There's been a leak about me.

I'm very disappointed in you, Lennox.

Why would I give a fuck about

who wants to tell your fucking story?

Perhaps I am offering you
some very sweet inducements.

Hazel Lloyd.

Oh.

Some things grow within you
and never leave.

Events and emotions that no matter

how you try to confront them,

will always have you by the balls.

We're building a safe world
where we can come to no harm.

But as we strive
to eliminate physical threat,

we create conditions
for insidious mental breakdown.

You don't have an appointment.

This is becoming a habit, Ray.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
It's inappropriate. I could go.

What's brought you here?

I, uh...

I put my hand through the
powdered skull of a dead child,

one Confectioner put into a well.

How can you adequately dispense justice

for such heinous crimes?

All my life I've been
asking myself that question.

I need to go.
I have a client waiting.

If you still need to talk,
come back tonight.

Your money's on the table.

I detest you more than you
could ever know.

That's hate fucking.

If we'd have kent that,
we'd have charged you more.

Please, use the money
sensibly for society's benefit.

Massively overdose on the most
toxic poison imaginable.

Ah, we're working on it.

You fucking evil little pansy!

What is this? Enough!

That fucking weirdo almost bit
my fucking ear off!

His ear?!
What is fucking wrong with you?!

He's a meat-headed bully
and she always takes his side.

And he fucking smells.
His feet, his socks.

They're vile.

I want to stay here.

- For a few days, that's all.
- Brilliant.

- Thanks, Uncle Ray.
- But I'm going to have to tell

- your mum you're here, eh?
- Aye.

Aye.

Ray.

Are you okay?

Er...

Pathologists confirmed. The
second girl was Eilidh McIntyre.

She's not historically associated

with the Confectioner, er, case.

Right, but not what I asked.

Are you okay?

It was like I was -- It was
like I was right back there

with Confectioner.

You know, instant recall.

You found two more girls, Ray.

Two more families get to lay
their loved ones to rest.

Fuck's sake, think of the positives.

There's no positives.

The media are going crazy about this.

I'll handle it.

You've got to get your head
back inside this case.

- Thanks.
- Hey. Hey.

Where are we in this case?

Well, we've -- we've got
nothing of any use

from victim number one.

Er, victim number two's dead.

Who knows when victim number
three's gonna turn up.

I'm really struggling to keep
my head in the game, boss.

Well, unfortunately, we've no choice.

That is the nature of the game.

Okay. The tape?

The one you spitefully
sent to my girlfriend.

Yeah. The tape.

I wasn't in a good place back then.

My dad was seriously ill.

People suffer bereavements
without sending sex tapes

to people.

Let's look forward.

- How many copies?
- One.

I erased mine.

Cressida didn't erase hers.

- Gets off on it, does she?
- No.

She's a religious girl.

- She's hurt.
- Sure.

Matthew 7:15.

Beware of false prophets which
come to you in sheep's clothing.

We want to leave all this
behind us and get away.

We've decided to do
VSO work in Senegal.

Let me guess. To do that,
you need money, right?

You caused a lot of pain.

Threatening us. Stalking us.
Cressida wants compensated.

You made that sex tape willingly.

And you sent it to my
girlfriend without my consent.

That's a crime, Amanda.

You're a criminal.

Have you watched it?
Properly watched it.

Of course not.

You should.
You come off very well.

Especially when I do that thing you like.

We didn't do the thing on the tape.

So you have watched it.

Maybe. Once.

Ages ago.

I have another one where we do.

You were begging me.

Er --

Cress warned me you'd be like this.

Still trying to lead me astray.

Come on, Keith.
Where have you gone?

Back to the church.

Every other sin a person commits
is outside the body,

but the sexually immoral person
sins against her own body.

Fuck you. And fuck your church!

There's no reason for this
to ruin your career.

Think about it.

Don't take too long.

Things badly need sorted out
here at Serious Crime.

- You know it. I know it.
- You're the man to do it, Tommy.

Better communication
between Serious Crime and Vice.

Task forces with other constabularies.

Autonomy for units instead
of checking in with control

every five minutes.
Tech-savvy sorts like youse.

It's a shame Dougie cannae be with us.

What the fuck are you trying to say?

Just spit it out.

It's. A. Shame. Dougie.
Cannae. Be. With. Us.

Why do you need
to make that sort of comment

every time
I walk in a fucking room?

I wasnae aware I did.

I think that might be
your conscience talking.

Fuck you, Stark.
You are worse than Gillman.

Worse!
You don't know what he's like.

Briefing. Now!

We have two victims.

One was attacked in a hotel room
and MI5 are covering it up.

The second was killed
and displayed in his community

that he served for years.
Both slashed in the groin area.

- Allegedly.
- Yes. Allegedly.

We also have a killer
who is communicating with us,

but who we can't track down.

He says he's motivated
by correcting injustices.

Injustices.

And we've got a fucking leak.

One of you's is releasing

information about the Confectioner case.

And when I find out who,
I will not fucking miss you.

- What have you all got?
- Ray, I'm --

You've got nothing.

We can't even tap the only witness

who can help us solve this case

because apparently protecting
the reputation of the few

is more important than solving mu--

- Homicides.
- Not to us.

I need you all to listen carefully.

This should be fairly simple.

We need to connect these victims
to find a motive

and thus the killer.

Tommy, Norrie, go down to
the gathering for Dr. Durie.

Find out what you can about the community.

- Community.
- Listen, this repeating

the last word people say
is getting fucking tiring.

Oh, my God.
The killer's online again.

He's hacked a load of Edinburgh
businesses on socials.

Ray, you need to look online right now.

Journalist contact
called about a breaking story.

Several websites have been hacked

by anti-establishment messages.
And the bloody filth

that someone's put up on
the Women's Institute website

and the Cat Protection League.

What the fuck is going on?!

- Gill, I need your help.
- Yeah, of course.

- What is it?
- Erm...

- It's a personal matter.
- Mm-hmm.

I need to...get rid of
something on someone's cloud.

You know what you're asking?

Yeah.

And...if I don't do this,
then I'm finished here.

Well, we can't have that.

I forgot about that one.
He's such a wanker.

This is really quite special.

Wait, just let me get my leg.

How did you get your leg up like that?

- Yeah.
- Wow.

Yeah, we did make quite a few,

but I only sent him the one and the fucker

is using it to blackmail me.

Fucking shite.

He can't get away with sex-shaming you.

Sex tapes are always
weaponised against women.

I'm not ashamed.

A guy wouldn't be ashamed.
Why should I be?

I once stole all my ex's
socks when I moved out.

Yep. I've got no idea why I did that.

Oh, I might've fucked
the promotion opportunity.

I shouldn't have given him
this much power.

Right. That's it.
I've deleted them.

But he could have these videos
saved on multiple devices.

Deleting the cloud
might have not done any good.

You can't keep letting them
hold this over you.

I know.

What's the point in this? It's
a load of religious nonsense.

Load o' pish, mate.
When you're dead you're dead.

Told you that Lennox
was cracked in the head.

Accusing one of us of leaking information.

This Durie voluntarily
hung around for 50 years.

Each to their own.

Deserved to get fucked up
for that, the dingul.

I'd 'ave given one of my balls
to get outa here.

What are they hitting? Update!

Someone has just left
a review of the type of blade

that was allegedly used to kill Durie.

- An Arabian scimitar.
- It's like a long knife.

- Show us.
- "Solid quality,

scares the shit out of them
and gives a clean cut

with limited mess.

Grip could be better, but it did
go in like a treat

when I plunged the bastard."

Ray, there's a message
on the elite school thread.

"Who will be hashtag three?"

Any one of these people who've
been hacked could be the target.

They're planning to kill again.

You were with him for a while.
Anything between youse two?

What are you inferring?

No rumpy pumpy?

Come on, dinnae go all prissy.

We're cops.

We have to investigate relationships.

He was not that kind of man.

Was he cowping
anybody else to your knowledge?

If he was that liked in the community,

there might well have been some younger

- Tony Hatch knocking about.
- He would never!

Never say never when it comes
to the murky waters

of male sexuality.

Piggot-Wilkins is as connected as it gets.

So was his father.

He died ten years ago.

Recorded as a suicide

but found with substances in his system.

Don't you think it's a bit
irregular that the report

doesn't list the substances?

Cat's out of the bag now.

Threat to public safety.
Use this.

- Amanda.
- Where we going?

Can't just sit around waiting for him

to kill someone else, can we?

And then he got the MBE.

Ah, there was a bit
of a kerfuffle around that.

Aw, aye?

Someone vandalised the surgery,

something to do with malpractice.

The family threatened him, the Doctor.

Said they'd ruin him.

What happened?

I came in to find
excrement daubed on the walls.

It was horrible.

And someone had written "fake"

on the wall in their own S-H-I-T.

The guilt ate away at him
until the day he died.

Who could have thought he was a fake?

We need a name.

You've had more than enough.

Right.

Aye.

You should have spoken to me
first, about the leak.

- Confectioner.
- You're right.

- Everything alright?
- Nothing I can't handle.

Are you sure this is a good idea?

No. Come on.

Fraser!

Thought he lived alone.

Trudi must have left it.

We understand you need
to advance this crime, Lennox,

but we have this in hand.

That's all we have to say on the matter.

Are you saying you won't let
the Detective Inspector

ask the questions of a witness

that could protect a member of the public?

Are you saying that privacy
and protection of one person

is more important than the safety

of the people of this city?

What I'm saying, DI Drummond,

is that we have this in hand.

And you and DI Lennox are insubordinately

jeopardising your careers
by even being here.

Piggot-Wilkins Senior.
Ten years ago.

Who puts the word "substances"
in a pathology report?

Ask the pathologist.

Long deceased.
Wonder who got to him, eh?

Before my time.

Yeah. You prefer to protect
the present Piggot-Wilkins.

Why's he so important?

You wouldn't want to do my job, Lennox.

There are some people
who pull the levers of power

and they have to be protected
at all costs.

The less the public know, the better.

Who gives a fuck what those idiots think?

They might be interested to hear this.

Carry on.

What do you think you're doing?

This is released unless you give me

the location of Piggot-Wilkins.

I'm going to give you...

30 seconds to make your decision.

So?

Sophie's working on the breakdown

of voluntary organisations

to find out which sectors
are being targeted most.

What's the story with you and Sophie?

Well, there is no real story.

You involved with someone else?

- I didn't say that. I --
- Hey.

I've got a breakdown of the
voluntary organisations hacked.

- Thanks.
- Thanks.

DI Lennox.

DI Drummond.

- Must have been frustrating.
- Hmm?

The great love you had for him,

but his own only ever going to this...place.

He was devoted to the community.

He didnae look at you
the way a man should look

at a beautiful woman.

What?

What are you saying?

He. Did. Not. Look. At. You.

The. Way A. Man. Should. Look.

At. A. Beautiful. Woman.

You can't say that to me.

I'm old enough to be your mother.

No, you're not.

You're old enough to be my lover.

I'm saying no more.
You're wasting my time.

The person who did this to you
has killed a man.

More lives are in danger.
We've got plenty to talk about.

Your attacker's already
claimed responsibility

in an e-mail to the police.

This story is not going to go
away until they've been caught.

You're hashtag one. Right?

Did you see the face of
the person who did this to you?

His face was covered.
And I'd been drugged.

- Was he alone?
- There was a girl.

- Who was the girl?
- How would I know?

She was bought and paid for.

How did you find her?

I'm afraid that's covered
by the official secrets act.

Can you describe her for us?

She was just a girl.

Just a girl.

Like the others you entertained here.

Like Gayle?

And was this girl involved in the attack?

You don't notice these things
when someone's swinging

a ceremonial scimitar at you, officer.

Does the name William Durie
mean anything to you?

Should it?

This house that we're in,

this is the house where your father met

his untimely end.

What has my father got to do with this?

I think you're clutching
at straws now, don't you?

This Establishment nonsense
has wasted our fucking time.

Piggot-Wilkins' protection is irrelevant.

We've been trying to
unravel levels of bureaucracy

when we could have been solving this case.

Inspector Lennox.
Moira Gulliver.

I know your sister,
and you know my brother.

I knew both of your victims.

You knew William Durie and
Christopher Piggot-Wilkins well?

Well, our fathers were friends.

We all grew up together.

We didn't live near them,

but we would holiday together
once or twice a year.

Do you know why someone
would want them dead?

Of course not.
They were just boys then.

Willie...never fit in with the lads.

He was too kind for his own good.

"Porky" could be cruel.

The joke was always
at someone else's expense.

And Ritchie, he was always
trying to prove himself.

Harmless, really.

But then you know my brother, Inspector.

There's talk of a third victim.

Don't let anything happen to him, Ray.

Well, what do you want?

We believe there's a threat to your life.

It's connected to the attempted murder

of Christopher Piggot-Wilkins
and the murder of William Durie.

We have to take it seriously.

Touched by your concern, my name is Ray

or DI Lennox, delete as appropriate.

But I haven't seen
either of those men for years.

Well, I see Porky at the occasional

civil service bash, but...

Why would someone want them dead?

I don't know.

But I've nothing to hide.

The light has been shed
on all my darkness.

Try it, Ray.
It's incredibly liberating.

Then maybe keep a low profile.

I'm giving the speech
of my fucking career today.

I'm asking you not to give the speech.

No way.

Besides, I'm well protected

by conscientious public servants

like yourself, am I not?

My only concern is for your safety.

Well, I'm concerned about that, too.

But I am giving my speech.

So please make sure no psychotic
malcontents disrupt me.

I didn't expect this to happen.

I've been lonely since Chris walked out.

Do you want to go to my place?

You'll never know how much.

But I can't. I'm on duty.

But what I am going to do

Is I'm going to come to you
when I'm finished.

Then do you know what's gonna happen?

What?

I'm going to kiss these lips.

I am trying to help you.
Believe me.

But I need you to help yourself.

Good at that one way.

Not so good in other ways, unfortunately.

One man has life-changing
injuries, another is dead.

We know that there's a third target.

Is there any reason that might be you?

Something that happened involving

Piggot-Wilkins and Durie?

Which one of us does not have
pesky skeletons

in their cupboard?

But I trust you to get
to the bottom of it,

Detective Inspector Lennox.

You're not fucking dying on my watch.

Thank you, my name is Ray.
I appreciate that.

I really do believe all this, you know.

It's modern politics.

You have to blow things
out of all proportion

to get your voice heard.

The truth is, nobody in this country

is looking after anything
but their own interests.

I genuinely believe
that we can be great again.

You know, your sister
described you as harmless.

She's wrang.

You're a fucking fascist.

Thank you. Thank you.

When I first entered
politics, they asked me why.

Why would any sensible person
delve into this cesspit?

You've delved into
enough cesspits in your time.

The reason in one word --

Britain.

Because of what this country once was,

because of what it has become.

I will chart the course to make
this country great again.

You're a Nazi!

Nazi! Nazi!

So, so -- So here they are,
the real Nazi rent-a-mob

with their attacks on free speech.

And they make their own point for us,

do they not, ladies and gentlemen?

That you can be a total cock
and an absolute fanny.

You know, this country once had pride.

It built an empire,

swatting away the puny
resistance of feeble natives.

We took what our brains, power,
and technology entitled us to.

Nobody back then, there was no whining,

insipid voices in the background
niggled away, telling us,

"Oh, you can't do this,
or you mustn't do that,"

because we knew
we were the United Kingdom.

The message was then,
as it has to be once again,

well, I'm sorry, my coloured
cousins, my paddy pals,

my squeamish yellow-bellied chums,

we do what the fuck we like.

Yes!

Die, you bastard!

Aah!

Oh, my God!

No. Get off me. Stop.

- Get off me.
- Thank you, Ray.

Bloke had murder in his eyes.

It appears that your vigilance
was not unwarranted after all.

Thank you, Officer, er...

I didn't get your name.

Let me go, you...

It looks like you have the culprit,

so kindly leave so I may continue.

Get off me.

There is a war approaching.

We British like the sound
of that word, don't we? War.

Because we've been denied

the opportunity of our forefathers.

The thrill of combat for the poor man,

the opportunity for conquest
for the rich one.

This is who we are.

We're heading back.
You stay with Gulliver.

Surely we could just leave
a couple of uniforms.

Do not let that creepy
psychopath out of your sight.

A public attack. Do you think
this is his curtain call, Ray?

I'm not your man.

Stark.

You don't see women, do you?

I see you, sister.

I see a nasty, spiteful wee whore

who'll do anything,

stomp anyone into the ground,
to get to where she wants to be.

I'm a dyed-in-the-wool,
unreconstructed feminist.

Deal with it.

Oh, I'm dealing with it, alright.

You can rest assured.

You don't agree with Richard
Gulliver's politics, do you?

Agree with the views of a Nazi?

Only a fucking idiot or a bigot would.

So what was the plan?
You were gonna kill him?

The knife wasn't for decoration.

Mm-hmm.

Sophie's asked me to go camping with her.

Looking forward to it?

Well, yes, er...

- Yes.
- I hope you're a wee bit more

- convincing once you get there.
- That's just it.

I've no experience with lassies.

Like, I-I-I-I've never had my ho--

Made love to a girl before.

Right.

I don't know what to do.

I can't ask the boys at work.

You know what Stark and Erskine are like.

Mm.

Ray's never around.

Y-You have got experience,
like, with women.

I'm in a bit of a niche market.

Yeah.

Tell me.

Tell -- Tell me, how would you
make love to another woman.

Fuck sake, shut up, Struthers.

What about Piggot-Wilkins and Durie?

And who the fuck are they?

Hashtag one and two.

I've never seen them before in my life.

So Gulliver isnae number three?

No.

He's a fascist, and he deserves to die.

I've got six months to live.

Killing him would be the most
meaningful act of my life.

So you're a righteous warrior
who thinks it's okay

to take the law into his own hands?

You say you despise Gulliver,
but you're just

another entitled man
cut from the same fucking cloth!

Typical police.
A godsend for those

who want to try and dampen down
class politics.

If I had more time left, there
are other targets on my list.

I think it's fairly obvious
he's not our guy.

I was unprofessional in there.

I don't know what came over me.

Happens. We work in extreme circumstances

with twisted, evil bastards.
This is the job.

It's not the job, Ray.

We have systems, rules and procedures.

It's you who's been fucking me
up with all this emotional shit.

I just want to do my job.

Shall I book him for the knife?

Aye.
And give him a fucking medal.

Ray, your sister's back again.

This time she's got your mum with her.

Do you not have work to go to?
I ken you've no.

How is he, Ray?
Is he making a pest of himself?

Look, Fraser is fine.
He's a good kid.

He's been no problem at all.
Just let me get on with my job.

What's the problem, Ray?
I'm worried about you.

You're my son, Raymond.
When are we gonna sort this out?

There's nothing to sort out.
Can you not understand?

I don't want to talk to you.

Please, I'm at my work.
Just fucking go.

Go!

We'd like to ask you
a question, Mr. Gulliver.

- One moment, please.
- Are you a racist, Mr. Gulliver?

Any updates, Officer?

Uh, no. Nothing yet.

Sir.

Stand back, please.

You've spread toxicity in politics.

Racial assaults, trans batterings,

all increase after your speeches.

How does that make you feel?

Well, those are crimes,
and I suggest you speak

to the perpetrators of them.

But you have captured the
imagination of a broad range

of the British public.

- I shouldn't have agreed to go.
- Mm.

She'll have expectations.

- It'll be fine.
- It won't be fine.

I'm a freak.

Don't say that.

I honestly, I don't think this
is going to make any difference.

Sophie likes you for your big...

Brain.

If she laughs at me,
I don't think I can handle it.

I need to talk.

I've apologised for my behaviour.

But I am telling you
how serious blackmail is.

Please, just drop this now.

But sending depraved
homemade porn through's okay?

Oh, you are such a fucking
insufferable prude.

Keith told me you left the church.

You're doing well in the morality stakes

on your own, then, yeah?

Fuck sake.

You really levelled down when you left me.

This is solving nothing.

Cress, we need to talk.

Congratulations.
Quite a day for you.

I hear you caught your killer.

Ah. It was a crank with a knife.

Not the killer.

Can't place our killer.

There's something
not quite true about him --

Oh!

You alright?

Yeah.

I've got a migraine.

My head is so fucking full.

World is a cesspit.

Beasts are everywhere.

What happened to being a normal cop, Ray?

Well, I think this is being a normal cop.

To loathe people who ruin lives.

Tell me how that feels.

Every time you put one
of these beasts away.

Every time you bring them down,
how does it feel?

It never feels like enough.

Do they earn the right to live?

Should we have to earn
our right to be here?

Why did you go and see Confectioner?

When you know how it makes you feel.

Why not send someone else?

He wouldn't speak to someone else.

No one else in your department

has what it takes to unlock
the secrets of that case.

Is that a God complex?

How do you feel about Confectioner now?

I never want to find out again

that the last thing another kid
saw in their life

were those horrible eyes.

How do you feel?

I want to kill him.

Are you sure about this?

Oh, fuck sake,
I am doing you a favour here.

Don't make me change my mind.
Mm-hmm.

I'm delighted to say
that I have a genuine Edinburgh

Serious Crime cop joining us
on "All Fur Coat."

Welcome, DI Tommy Stark.

Helena, I've been working
with you and your colleagues

in the sex industry
for a number of years now.

I'm happy to debunk the stereotype

associated with women who make
their living in this way.

I've seen the consequences
on many of them, as have you,

from the more oppressive
elements of the patriarchy.

Wow.

Tommy, you've arrested and
hassled many working girls,

and now you're trying to tell us

that you were really on our side
all along?

Come on.

Well, Helena, as you and I both know,

unfortunately, things aren't that simple.

First and foremost,
I'm a law enforcement officer,

and that's my duty.

But we are all human beings in society,

and we have to see the bigger picture.

Yeah. Yeah. That's good.

That's good.

Yeah.
Yeah.

Yeah. Right.

Sit down. Oh.

Yeah.

Okay, so I want you to touch here.

Up here. Go on.

Go on.

That's very good.

Very...good.

If I was to describe myself in any way,

it would be as a dyed-in-the-
wool, unreconstructed feminist.

What the actual fuck?

- Like this?
- Less talking. Less talking.

Gill?

I thought I'd bring you
some of Mum's banana bread.

I really missed you.

Oh-oh-ohh!

I can explain. I'm sorry.
I can explain. I can explain.

She was just helping me!

Shut up!

- Fuck sake!
- Oh, my God.

- Oh, shit.
- Oh, my God.

Ah, shut up.

Hey, Uncle Ray, come join the party.

Just give me a minute.

The boy we lifted, he's not our killer.

So the man we're looking for
is still out there.

Well, then I suggest you find him,

Detective Sergeant.

I'm returning to my flat with a friend.

- Good night.
- You don't remember me, do you?

I'm afraid
I don't have any idea

of what you're talking about.

Now, I really need you to be
a good boy and let me get on.

- But I've been told --
- Ah-ah-ah!

I hear you knocking,
but you can't come in.

So one more time,

good night, defective Sergeant.

Prick.

Sometimes threat is not
where we expect to find it.

We let our guard down.
We expose ourselves.

And once is all it takes
for everything to change.

So I told them, do not get in my way.

I do not like taking the circuitous route

in pursuit of my goals.

I like to go in direct.

You're a good listener.

I like good listeners.