All language subtitles for When.Nobody.Sees.Us.S01E02.Holy.Monday.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DUAL.H264-FLUX_track7_[eng]

WHEN NO ONE SEES US

BUNGALOWS
MORÓN CAMPING GROUND

CHAPTER 2
EASTER MONDAY

Samuel Navas, 16 years old.

- He was last seen on Tuesday morning.
- Almost a week ago.

- Why did they report it last night?
- His mom thought he was at the shelter.

- They thought he was with her.
- Come again?

He's been in a shelter for a year.

His father ran off.
His mother couldn't control him.

He skipped school, smoked joints...

Social Services
thought it was best for him.

Why did they think he was at his mom's?

They let him spend a long weekend at home.

He was supposed to go back
on Tuesday, but he didn't.

- Who saw him last?
- His brother.

Samuel went to his mom's house
to get a motorbike. That's all we know.

- His cellphone?
- There's no signal.

- Did you speak to Canales?
- Yes.

He's organizing the search.

Ten minutes. You and I
are going to that boy's house.

Yes, Sergeant.

We've divided the area
into three sectors.

The outpost will be here,
in Caleras de la Sierra,

where the boy was last seen.

We'll reinforce the units in sector two.

There are abandoned properties,
olive trees, ravines, ditches, wells...

Places where anyone could easily fall.

The city council
has asked the public to help out.

I want Blázquez, García and Romero
with the volunteer crews.

Any questions?

Let's get to it.

I can't talk now.

- Hello, Emilia.
- Good morning.

I'm Sergeant Gutierrez,
from the Judicial Police.

- How are you?
- We're coping.

- Is there any news?
- It's early days.

We need to look through Samuel's things.

- Any detail can help us.
- Yes, of course.

Come in. Through here.

- Would you like some coffee?
- No, thank you.

It's already made, I was up all night.

I'd like to see your son's room, please.

Of course, come through.

This way.

- My eldest son, Rober.
- Hello, Rober.

Your brother was here at the
weekend, correct?

I imagine you spoke to him.
What did he say to you?

Nothing. He came for the bike.

And where did he go?

Samu does his own thing.

- Was he alone?
- Yes.

Did you do this?

- It's my brother's.
- Samuel draws really well.

He won a competition as a kid.
You remember, Rober?

Show me a photo of your brother,
the most recent one you have.

These were the last he posted.

He's a good boy, deep down.

But I couldn't deal with him.
I swear I couldn't.

No one's judging you, Emilia.

- What's this one?
- He's with his teacher.

Samuel isn't a very good student.

Some years ago, I enrolled him
in a school for private lessons.

- They seem to get along well.
- Yes.

Antonio was the only teacher
Samuel got along with.

He's always worried about him.

- Have a good day, Emilia.
- You too.

Thank you. Goodbye.

- What are you doing, Gran?
- Can't you see?

- Starting the washing machine.
- With sugar?

It's your mother's fault.
She tidies up and moves everything around.

Be careful, Gran.
You've a bit confused lately.

Really? Then how did I find out
you're seeing a boy?

- How do you know?
- Because I'm not a fool.

And you've turned bright red,
like a tomato.

- Don't tell mom.
- Would I tell the Sergeant?

No way. My lips are sealed, look.

But let me tell you,
you'd better watch out.

All men want the same thing,
to mess up our lives.

And you have to be especially careful.

- Me? Why?
- You were raised without a dad.

- So what?
- You've had nothing to compare them to.

Men are a ton of trouble.

But your father wasn't like that.

Good morning, Sergeant.

- Will you come with me?
- Of course.

- Now it's called behavioral disorder.
- And before?

Theft, contempt for authority, truancy...

- Is he absent much?
- Samuel? He's out more than in here.

- How many days does he go missing?
- Depends on how long the money lasts.

One or two days, three at most.

But he's been gone for a week.
It's unusual.

Where does he get money from?

Samuel's a handsome boy.

He's usually seen with an adult.
They give it to him.

- You didn't think to report him?
- What would I report?

That he has older friends?

Last week I called one of them, but...

- Did you know him before?
- I think his name is Antonio.

He has a kind of school

that Samuel attended when he was little,
or so I'm told.

After you.

Here are his things.

SUNDAY, MARCH 24
SAMUEL'S DISAPPEARANCE REPORTED

FRIDAY, MARCH 22
ANTONIO, SUICIDE

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 20
ANTONIO, HOSPITAL

MISSING - SAMUEL NAVAS
URGENT

I can't remember, okay?
I don't remember shit.

Don't worry.

You'll remember the fine
you're going to get.

How long do I have to stay here?

As long as the judge says.

I want to call base.

We did that. And believe me,

your superiors
don't think this is very funny.

My head is killing me.
Christ, give me something, please.

First you tell me who gave you the drugs,

and then I'll give you something
for your head.

I don't do drugs.

- So what is this? Huh?
- Fuck.

Pop Rocks?

Okay. All right.

But I didn't know the guy
who sold it to me.

You didn't know him. But he was a dealer.

Maybe it wasn't the first time?

I just asked some guys in a bar
and they said he could hook me up.

I scored and that's all.

I didn't know that shit
would make my head explode.

So...

You say you
never saw something like this?

Exactly. That's why I took it.

Come on, man, I didn't know
what it was. It looked cool.

That son of a bitch
should be in here, not me.

That's my job, to arrest him.

But I need you to tell me
something about the guy, a description.

Not very tall, dark, kinda stalky.

You must have noticed...

I don't know...

Clothes, hair, a ring... Something else.

The back of his neck was all red.

Like a scratch?

What do I know, man? Just red.

So, are you gonna give me
something for my head, or what?

- Sergeant, got a minute?
- Quickly. I'm going to the court.

I talked to the American.

- You did? Why?
- No one else speaks English here.

- And you do?
- I get by.

Fuengirola in summer is like London.

Of course. Don't you think
you should have informed me?

Before bringing him here,
the police took him to the hospital.

They seized this,
and did a saliva test on him.

And guess what, the guys from the
procession and the soldier took nazarene.

Víctor, we can't make people
lead a healthy life.

It's a new drug that we don't know.
It's dangerous. We should look into it.

- I'm going to talk to the drummer.
- All right.

But I don't want you to go alone.
Take someone.

Cardona's on leave
and the girl's a bit green.

Leiva?

I have Antonio Jiménez's
toxicology report.

- Did I ask you for it?
- It's my professional bias.

I respect people
who decide to commit suicide.

I'm sorry.

I meant that what Antonio did
was very extreme.

Only someone who was wasted could do that.

And was he?

The test only showed
a small amount of Alprazolam,

probably taken 24 hours before.

- Nothing to bear the pain?
- Not even an aspirin.

He was in agony until he died.
And it took several hours.

This is Holy Week.
Pain, passion, the expiation of sins...

No, he wasn't like that.
His house is a Japanese temple.

Hara-kiri, flagellation, ashura...

I know of few religions
that aren't based on suffering.

It's like a feeling of guilt
made him do it.

That's outside the scope of my job.
Guilt has to do with the soul.

I'd like to investigate Antonio Jiménez.

Isn't it a bit late?

Your Honor, you have to agree
that committing hara-kiri isn't normal.

Maybe in Tokyo, but not
in Morón de la Frontera, I assure you.

But that's not for you or I to judge.

Antonio knew the boy
who disappeared from the shelter.

He used his house to teach other kids.

I still don't see anything unusual.

Your Honor, do you remember
the Sergio Liván case?

It's the same profile,
a lonely man with no social life,

looking for excuses to be with children.

He ran a tennis school?

Tennis, boy scouts, football, whatever.
The pattern is the same.

He didn't just teach English,
he taught self-defense.

Do you suspect he was a pedophile?

I just want to be sure

Antonio wasn't involved
in Samuel's disappearance.

Sgt. Johnson's gate log
from the past five months.

He spends most of his weekends off-base.

Is that normal over here?

It's his free time.

Any idea where he goes?

An airman's only obligation
is not to stray more than 60 miles

- and be reachable at all times.
- Of course.

I trust my men
until they prove me otherwise.

Right.

I appreciate the information, sir.

- I haven't found his laptop.
- We have it in custody.

- You can access it anytime you need it.
- I need it.

You won't find much.
We've been through it.

- His personal computer?
- Of course.

It's Air Force property.

Luckily, we confirmed
that he only used it for work.

Which you'll also be able to confirm.

I'm sure I will.

AIR BASE
MORÓN

- Where to, ma'am?
- We're looking for a florist.

I can't imagine Chacón ever going to mass.

Paquito's carried this float for years.
I'm sure we'll find him here.

Come on, straight ahead.

Slowly, gently.

Smaller steps. Come on.

Come on.

Let's stop there.

Gentlemen, stop!

Let's get some fresh air, take a break.

You need something?

Civil Guard.

I understand that Francisco Chacón
is in this procession.

This isn't a procession, it's a dry run.

A rehearsal.

- To see if the guys are in shape...?
- It's been an average Holy Week so far...

- We need to talk to Francisco.
- He's out. Friday was enough.

You mean you kicked him out
of the brotherhood?

Yes, and out of the band.

- He had an ear for music.
- He should have thought of that before.

What he did wasn't right,
but kicking him out is a bit much.

Mr. Hipólito's idea.

Look, in Morón, even the atheists
are brotherhood members.

- And you're not?
- Not anymore.

Christ of Calvary, Our Lady of Sorrows...

I suffer enough with Betis.

- He's a bearer.
- What?

The dealer. He has to be a bearer.

The American said
the back of his neck was chafed.

- Good morning, Sgt. Gutiérrez.
- Good morning, Lieutenant.

Please accept this gift.
You were very kind to me yesterday.

Thank you.

I like them too.
They're hardy and undemanding.

This is Sgt. Andrew Taylor.

- Head of the base's Military Police.
- Nice to meet you.

- So...?
- I have Johnson's gate log.

I need know where he went
and stayed on those days.

- He probably stayed in a hotel.
- And always the same one.

Military folk, we're creatures of habit.

And you lack the authority
to check hotel registers.

That's the cooperation
I mentioned yesterday.

It would give us a lot of data.

Rubén.

You can sit with one of my officers.
He has the authority to do this work.

Give Lt. Castillo and Sgt. Taylor
everything they need.

Yes, Sergeant.

- Good luck.
- Thank you.

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon.

I heard you were looking for me.

Mr. Núñez. Yes, the office said
we could find you here.

I can guess why you're here,
but those two were kicked out.

Their conduct was unacceptable.

The buyers don't interest us,
only the sellers.

And I want to get to the bottom
of this more than anyone.

But it's always good
to get rid of two bad apples.

As brotherhood president,
you have that right.

We'd need a list of the bearers
in the procession on Friday.

Mixing drugs and the brotherhood
is risky, don't you think, Sergeant...?

Corporal. Corporal Víctor Martin.

Sorry, Corporal.

I'm used to dealing with Sgt. Gutiérrez...

- Anyway, give her my regards.
- No problem.

In any case,
we'd appreciate your cooperation.

Of course, you have it.

You'll get a list of all the bearers.
But first I'd like a favor.

This is Holy Week,
and there are many interests at stake.

Unless we treat this with
the utmost discretion, we all lose out.

Nobody wants a scandal, believe me.

How many hectares is it? 450, 500...?

And 80.

It's 580.

Can I ask you the million-dollar question?

- What's that?
- Why did you become a civil guard?

My dad and granddad are civil guards.

Tradition.

Not really.

I was an only child,
and they thought I'd break the cycle.

Especially my granddad.

Your father has female colleagues,
but in your grandfather's time...

You should have seen
the academy graduation in Baeza.

Floods of tears...

What about you?

What about me?

The million-dollar question.
Why did you become a civil guard?

Look, there's the court clerk.

- Start with the office.
- Yes, ma'am.

As you know, under article 588
of the Criminal Procedure Law,

- any seized items must be registered.
- Let me sign.

Sergeant, the phone is locked,
but the laptop has no password.

- Good. Send the phone to forensics.
- There's also a camera.

- Anything else? Invoices, receipts?
- No, nothing.

I found this in a drawer.

Dude, did you have to make me come here?

My little brother's going out
for the first time.

Look, he's so funny.

Come on, let's go outside.

I'll be right back, Dad.

Hey, man, I heard about Samuel.

He'll turn up.
It wouldn't be the first time.

Hello.

- You have what I gave you?
- Some of it.

- Don't tell me you took it.
- Not yet.

Later, when it's over.

- And the rest?
- I shifted a bit.

- Fucking hell, Rafa!
- Hey!

People are climbing the walls.
I had to make the most of it.

- Who did you sell it to?
- The usual.

A little bit here and there.

I have the right to make a living.

And do you have what's left?
Give it to me.

- What?
- Fucking give it to me.

Okay, fine.

But you'll give me back the...?

- Any luck?
- Nothing.

We've checked all the hotels
in a 60-mile radius.

One hundred kilometers.

That's as far as the soldiers
can go from the base.

Airbnbs too,
but nothing under the name of Johnson.

Maybe he stayed
in someone's house around here.

Years ago, maybe, but now it's rare.

Soldiers from the base
tend to only hang out with Americans.

He could have rented
a house on his own.

I know a guy.

Good afternoon.

Sergeant, you're jeopardizing me here.

Pollito, please.
We look like two tourists.

Lt. Castillo, meet Pollito.
Pollito, Lt. Castillo.

- Nice to meet you.
- Likewise.

- You're new around here?
- From Chicago.

My father was from Wyoming.

Or so my mother says.
I was a cultural exchange baby.

Something to drink?

Do you know if Americans
rent apartments in town?

That was before.
Now they stay on the base.

- They have everything.
- She means at the weekend.

When they're on leave.

Well, there's a woman on La Carrera
who rents houses.

- Sure, the apartments on La Carrera.
- No, Ms. Elisa lives on La Carrera.

The houses she rents are on the outskirts.

Ms. Elisa?

Do you recognize him?

Take a good look. Does he look familiar?

Lots of people come here,
and you know what for.

Right. Let me know
if you get your memory back, okay?

Good.

Are you still working on that?

We're meeting up in half an hour.

Your brother-in-law will be there?

Yeah, I guess. My sister's going, so...

Well, let's go do some penance, shall we?

My husband looks worried.

I think something's up
and he doesn't want to tell me.

If it's any consolation,
Hipólito looks the same as ever.

Should we be worried?

- I don't know yet.
- No, we still have funds.

At the moment, yes.

- Nothing?
- The hard drive is empty.

The folders, trash and history.
Nothing in any of it.

But you have the cellphone?

- Yes, forensics are unlocking it.
- I'm sure it's all in there.

Maybe, but this is very strange.

Hey. We don't give up here, okay?

- Any news of the boy?
- A squad's on duty tonight.

We'll resume at dawn.

We're going for a drink at Manolo's.
Come along.

Okay, I'll just finish up.

- Aren't you coming?
- No, I have to study.

Study tomorrow.

My sergeant's exam is in a month.
There's no "tomorrow."

Up to you. But living in the barracks
is like having a family.

If a fellow officer is thoughtful,
you reciprocate.

- Hi. How was your day?
- I'm sick of studying. My head hurts.

I'm taking a paracetamol
and going to bed.

- How's Grandma?
- Watching TV.

- Is she okay?
- Of course. Why wouldn't she be?

- I'm going to bed. Get some rest.
- Good night.

Let's go.

Subtitles: Rodrigo Vaz
plint.com