All language subtitles for Taggart s06e04 Rogues Gallery [Christmas Special].eng

You bastard!

It's not what you think!

You two -timing creep! Who's that? Move!
I can explain!

Get 20 pence for a cup of tea, hen.

You're a saint, darling.

A saint.

50 grand.

Joe!

Thank you.

Do you want to take a seat?

I'm sorry about this. It's Miss...
Sinclair. Valerie Sinclair.

Right.

So, it was a dark green Citroen
registration G429EXL.

What model?

Oh, God, I haven't a clue.

Citroen XM24 valve, something like that.

It's not my car. It belongs to the boss.

What's his name?

Gallagher. Neil Gallagher.

I was running an errand for him at the
time.

I'll give DVLC a phone and they can tell
me the model.

Do you have a contact address?

Yes, at number six.

Oh, no, the best thing would be the
gallery.

I'm opening a new gallery in Canal
Street for Mr Gallagher.

Here's my card.

Canal Gallery.

Artistic director.

At least I was before today.

I'm sure he'll understand.

Oh, yes, understanding he is.

Don't worry, it happens every day.

Not to me, it doesn't.

If it's joyriders, you might get it back
without a scratch.

Oh, yes.

But I have to warn you that there's been
a spate of executive car thefts.

That's why you have the luxury of the
CID.

I appreciate it.

If it is pros, though, you may have to
wave a goodbye.

I've only been here six weeks and I
might be waving goodbye.

That'd be a pity.

Occupied!

The decorator's in.

Listen, I'll tell you what.

You give me the keys and as soon as I
hear anything, I'll let you know, OK?

That's very good of you, Sergeant.

I know you must be busy.

Never a dull moment.

Uh -huh.

Sure I can't tempt you.

What?

The jumble sale.

To help the lad get a rampory house. I
told you not three minutes to go.

Oh, you go, Jean.

Buy me a wee surprise.

I'm doing nothing for the next three
days except a bit of gardening.

Leash yourself.

I'll be back around five.

Enjoy the gardening.

I will.

Okay, then.

That time again.

Now, you're going to have a drink of
your juice.

There you go.

Oh, yeah.

Filled a bit.

Never mind.

There you go.

Let's get that washing in.

Another enough time.

How are you getting on?

How are you doing?

Have you dropped your pencil?

Have a look.

Well, that's very nice, David.

Lovely.

Yeah, that's fine. You watch her jump, I
knew your mother would kill me.

Hey, everybody.

Well, as I was saying, but I think when
you see Scott's work, you'll agree with

me that he's a Glasgow boy with a great
future in front of him, and it's a great

honour to have his work open my new
gallery.

That's the Canal Gallery.

So, ladies and gentlemen, Scott Kerr.

Well, finally, I'd like to sincerely
thank my girl, Friday, Valerie.

Without her hard work, we would never
have got this all together so quickly.

So it's thanks to her.

Hello, Sergeant.

You shall go to the ball. You found it.

Lying with an empty petrol tank in
Bishop Briggs.

New ignition switch, and it'll be none
the worse.

Thank you for your hard work.

Mind you, it was only least I
discovered.

I'll tell Mr. Gallagher.

Oh, great.

Looks a bit busy.

Probably ordering a curry.

That was Gallagher in Glasgow.

Everything is going according to plan.

I'm not too shy.

I can see the Peruvian influence.

Very good.

I don't know much about art.

But you know what you like.

Yeah, I'd say so.

Hey, my Goddy.

I see myself as a spokesman for
deindustrialization.

A kind of harbinger of man's ultimate
fault and grace, you know?

I like the red coffee pot.

What do you think, Blossom?

Yes, Scott. I've just sold the entire
collection.

Okay, Mike, Chris, get a banner up. Let
them see it. You don't want that. Take

your leaflets from the great... Barfoot
People's Art Show. You could bring your

dog away, missy. Aye. Why pay 10 ,000
quid here?

Come to Barfoot and get your culture
free.

Oh, we're in with the big boys, are we
now, Scott?

What are you on about?

I'm telling you to watch him.

I knew him when he was trying to sell
stolen knickers. Jack, get the man out

here. Jack, Jack, Jack. You know what?
I'll give you champagne. Who sold that

opinion?

Peter Latimer.

He asked us to exhibit some artwork and
Gala deemed it unsuitable. Right, you.

Oh, she's killed her, man.

You out!

Oh! You out!

Oh! You're all just killing me, are
they?

Now, you've made your point.

Now, leave.

Why?

Who's rattled your kids?

Hey, everybody.

Party's just beginning.

Let's play some music.

Clay.

Thanks very much, officer.

No problem.

Sergeant Jordan's found the car.

Oh, great.

Well, I'll leave you in the capable
hands of Miss Sinclair.

I've got to have a word with the camera
crew.

Well, the opening successfully wrapped.

Oh, thank you for your help, Sergeant.

Michael. It's a pleasure.

Well, I'd best be getting back to the
mean street.

Look, I'll give you my number at the
station.

If you ever need any help in the future,
give me a call.

What sort of help?

I can turn my hand to most things.

See you.

I thought you were taking it easy in the
garden, sir.

You know what Flo did?

Stuck a feather up his bum and thought
it was a chicken.

Where have you been?

Returning some car keys.

What are you?

A messenger for traffic?

It's those posh motor thefts.

Forget the yuppies.

We're going to the circus.

previous for a post -mortem steven i'll
advise you to get kind of turd him i'll

take my chance please

Go there, Mr. McGovern.

There's your grand.

Thanks a lot, Mr. McGovern.

Hey, Joe.

A wee bonus for you.

Thanks very much.

Thanks a lot, Mr. McGovern.

I would say that he was killed first and
then dumped in the boot.

I mean, I saw him this tied up. Well, I
think that's what he said.

How did you find him? A bit cluttered.

I got a dog once, but never a human.

And we just found a bullet too, nine
mil.

What do you know about bullets?

Well, I was in the G .A.

A gangland killing, if you ask me.

Mr. Walker, I'm paid to work out the
theory.

Just tell us what you know.

Well, like I said to that Polish, if I
hadn't noticed what I'd noticed, it

have ended up as a set of cutlery.

Look, I'll tell you what you do.

Go and talk to the sergeant here.

He'll write down everything you say.

And Dr Andrews needs a hand to take the
pieces apart.

Like a nice blue button.

And I've got to warn you not to mention
this to anybody.

Soul of distress in me, Inspector.

Mum's the word.

Why?

Will this take long? I've got a booze
match tonight.

How's it going, David?

I found a finger, Jim!

Mommy, Daddy.

matter who's bought them. It matters to
me. Listen, Sonny, I've gone out of the

limp for you.

Where do you think the money for this
exhibition comes from? Six bottles of

plonk and a dozen sausage rolls.

I don't believe this. And I've just sold
all these. Well, I want to see the

check. And the buyer wants to see the
goods.

Goods? That's 18 months of my life
hanging up there.

And they're contracted to me. For the
time being.

There's nothing quite so unedifying as
the sight of a Scotsman make.

Oh, grace, little sod.

I was talking about you.

At least he's got talent.

And what's wrong with you, then?

What's wrong?

I would have liked to have been
consulted about this sale.

You leave the money up to me.

You know, I wouldn't have minded you
just having another woman. Oh, for God's

sake. It's the thought that you gave her
the same bullshit as you gave me. Yes,

well, dear, we all have our little
secrets, don't we?

You really are quite spectacularly low.

You know that?

Takes one to know one.

So we flattened it all out, plotted the
positions in relation to this identical

vehicle. Quite reconstituting sliced
sausage, really.

We put the body back in the boot.

Let's see if I can get this thing open.

There we are.

Now, the tailor's dummy isn't in an
identical position.

We reckon his hands were bound like
that, and a bullet in the back of the

So the guy in the scrapyard was right
after all.

You deserve a medal for this, Stephen.

What's the score with the car?

I was stolen from a car park in Barfoot
three days ago.

Belongs to a retired nurse, Mrs Finn,
65.

Goldier's cracking up about it.

One thing, though, she swears blind if
it was empty.

Well, that means there's a supply to
stop the tide of Mockworth.

It's newspaper binding, isn't it?

Michael's going to check it out.

By the way, Jim, that finger I gave you,
did you get a good clean print?

Thomas James Wilson, Notting Hill.

Stoplifting, vagrancy, two counts,
possession.

All time.

Just a lad, he's suffering.

Possession?

And he is suffering.

It's all a bit crumpled, sir. I'm not
surprised.

Two grams of heroin, £4 .50.

And this.

A return ticket to Houston.

He must have come up about three days
ago.

Why should someone want to kill a small
-time junkie?

Might have been a drug courier.

And someone relieved him of his goods.

Better check with the drug squad. Any
big deals on the go?

I've done it, sir.

There's nothing.

If he was carrying drugs, it must have
been a big one.

Make it worthwhile killing him. Right.

I'll come back to you when I've spoken
to ballistics. Oh, by the way, sir.

At least we got a bullet.

Your usual drugs, Ned, just uses a
shotgun through the teeth.

Good morning, sir. Good morning, Mike.

Good morning, Mr. Britsy. Good morning.

Yeah. Mr.

Britsy?

Yes? You have a call from Glasgow,
Scotland.

I'm Mr. Gallagher.

Right, I'll take it on my mobile phone.
Thank you.

No, look, Enzo, you don't appear to
appreciate the situation, right? I need

readies now.

Things cannot be hurried. I've given you
my word. That should be enough.

I can't confirm until I inspect the
merchandise. That's the bottom line.

Yeah. I understand that. It's just that
I've had a bit of a problem here.

Problem? You know I don't like problems,
Neil.

No, no. It's nothing I can't handle.

I would really appreciate an answer,
right?

Sooner rather than later.

I've given you my word.

Yeah, fine.

Fine. Okay.

Ciao, Neil.

Yeah.

Can't you knock or something?

Sorry.

What do you want?

A cup of tea, Mr Gallagher.

Your man.

I'm reporting for duty, sir.

CID aid, sir.

I've been allocated to this
investigation.

It says so in the mail. All right.

I can read.

Did you drive?

Yes, sir.

Passed my test two weeks ago.

Go drive me.

That's where the escort was stolen.

There's a wee junkie Paul of mine hangs
about here.

He'll know if there's anything in the
offing.

Yeah, there are.

Drive around the corner.

Tonight?

I'm a bit busy, but... The thing is,
I've had this table booked for a couple

weeks, and, um... this friend sort of
let me down.

You'll be doing me a favour, really.

All right.

Eight o 'clock?

Right then.

Sure.

Okay, I'll see you then. Bye -bye.

Bye.

Ballistic.

Mr. Taggart.

Hello, Gary.

The night's a fairly drawn in, eh?

Right, then.

What's wrong with you?

It's nothing.

Yeah.

Uh -huh.

OK, then.

Right, thanks very much. Bye -bye.

Sir.

That was the mate on the phone.

Wilson left you flat early Tuesday
morning.

So he came up here straight away?

And died the same night.

Ballistics reckon the gun was a 9mm
automatic.

Possibly a Browning or a Luger.

A Luger?

We can't confirm.

Is that it?

The bullet was pretty smashed up.

There's no tie -in with any known
weapon.

But they're working on it.

What about the tape?

Oh, a phone forensic.

It's polypropylene.

It's used in industrial bindings. Common
as muck.

Excuse me, sir.

Oh, I'm sorry.

WPC readers attached us for a while.

What pearl of wisdom have you got to
tell us?

Well, maybe it's nothing, but maybe the
tape was used to nick the Cavalier, you

know, in through the window.

Why didn't you think of that, Michael?

Somebody wants a word with you to the
gate, boss.

I'm not my team.

Come on.

Hell to the one.

21.

Do you think they'd mind if I slipped my
shoes off?

They're very broad -minded in here.

I've been on my feet all day.

Selling paintings?

Not selling paintings.

How's that?

Oh, Mr Gallagher says he's filled the
lock.

That's good news, isn't it?

I don't know. He tells me nothing.

In the meantime, I'm running about like
an office junior.

It's like working in a... A police
station. Tell me about it.

I am now a fully -fledged binding tape
expert.

I can give you chapter and verse in 14
different kinds.

Your little black book.

I don't think you'd be interested in the
full, grisly details of a murder

inquiry over your copy.

You can tell me about it later.

It'd be a pleasure.

Strathclyde Police are appealing for
witnesses who may have seen this man,

Thomas Wilson.

They're anxious to trace his movements
between 3pm on Tuesday afternoon at

Central Station and yesterday morning
when his body was discovered in a

Clydeside scrapyard.

Please say all information will be
treated in the strictest confidence.

And finally... And you say he'd no
family?

No one came to collect the remains.

Some mother's son.

Francis, all our wishes.

McGovern.

What?

Flash Frankie McGovern.

His name's come up twice from a couple
of touts.

The word is he was setting up a big deal
in Barfoot.

Pay him a visit.

That's the problem.

We can't find him.

He's disappeared.

Maybe it's coincidence.

I don't like coincidences, Jean.

You know, nine times out of ten, it's
some Ned's big mouth blabbing that gets

them caught.

You see this one?

Nobody's seen the one.

Take care, Tom.

See you later on.

Do something about that hair of yours,
by the way.

I'm off.

Are you a fag for a go?

Aye, just for one.

Need some company?

Who, Disney?

Right. Well, I'll clean up in here.

I'll be round in half an hour.

Money?

Yeah.

Bye.

Valerie?

Peter?

Hello?

Morning.

Where do you think you're going?

Look, I've got to be at the station in
half an hour.

Yes.

Right over there.

I'll let her know.

Bye.

Morning, Jack.

Tracy. Morning, Miss Pinkler.

That was Mr. Gallagher. He won't be in
today, but he would like access to the

gallery tonight for a private viewing.
He can have a private viewing any time

likes. There's nothing happening here.

Tracy, where's Gallagher? You tell me.

Where's Gallagher?

Where's Gallagher?

Bye now. Thank you.

Welcome to Glasgow.

Have a nice day. Thank you, I will.
Thank you. Bye.

I told you he won't be in today at all.
If you don't leave, I'll have to call

the police. I've done 12 years in this
field.

KGs a lot.

Police don't frighten me.

He had that place burned down.

I know he did.

Bye bye, Jack.

Anyone home?

Valérie?

It's very kinky.

I'm sorry.

I telephoned earlier, but there was no
reply. I was out.

Don't blush.

They were dirty, I thought.

You thought I'd been strangled by a
madman.

I broke a heel and fell in some mud.

I've just been to the laundrette.

Mud?

It's dry as a bone out there.

Can't you leave the office behind?

I'm sorry.

What's the matter with your hand?

Oh, it's just a little scratch.

You all right?

I'll live.

I've had a day and a half.

Peter Latimer turned up at the gallery
today.

Again?

What does he want?

Don't you read the papers?

I've got other things on my mind.

Looks like it's getting to be a bit of a
habit, Mr. Walker.

Mer -drugs?

I tell you what, if that boy was small
fry, this is the big fish, eh?

I don't know what to say and why, if you
ask me. You said we didn't scourge him.

I reckon... Mr.

Walker. What?

Mr. Walker, will you please stop talking
for a minute?

WPC Reid will be happy to talk to you,
won't you?

Nothing would give me more pleasure,
sir.

Go over there somewhere. Give her your
statement.

Good afternoon, Michael.

Sorry, sir.

You will be.

You're going to his post -mortem this
afternoon.

The platter.

Sir, this is Mr Greg, the security man.

Hello.

Did you lock up last night?

Yes, sir.

Mr Gallagher left a message he'd be
coming back later, but I never saw him.

How long have you worked here?

Two months.

I don't know what's going to happen now,
though. What's the last you'd loon up

out there?

We had a small incident yesterday, sir.

Involving Mr Gallagher?

Indirectly.

A gentleman smashed a skull.

I did report it to the police, but no
one came down.

What was the gentleman's name?

His name's Peter Latimer, sir.

Peter Latimer?

The ex -lifer?

I think your colleague met him.

At two o 'clock, police have just named
a body found in a Christside scrapyard

as Glasgow businessman Neil Gallagher.

Police say they're treating the death as
murder and are pursuing several lines

of inquiry.

The officer in charge of the
investigation is Detective Chief

Taggart.

Night duty nursing... Latimer has done
time for murder.

He comes here, he threatens Gallagher,
and you don't think it's important?

I didn't connect it, sir.

You didn't connect...

There's a nutter running about in
Glasgow pumping bullets into people,

them up in car boots.

I don't want to give them a third
chance.

What is it with you?

Are you in heat or something?

All right.

Right.

I'll have a word with this one.

She's the one that had the car stolen,
yes?

Yeah, but...

Nothing, sir.

Now, take my car and lift up Latimer.
Take Reid with you. And, Michael,

don't cock it up.

So the guy nicks a four -and -a -half
grand per day, sorts the barrels off and

sticks up the post office for £15 and a
book of stamps?

Oh, sorry, Jackie.

Oh, sorry I spoke.

Then there was Scott Kerr.

He got very shirty about money owed.

So Gallagher had money problems.

Cash flow. This was our first
exhibition.

And all the money was going in one
direction. Out.

So... All these paintings have got soul
stickers on them.

Mr Gallagher was meeting a client
yesterday.

He brought him in after we closed for a
private viewing.

My presence wasn't required.

Did that surprise you?

The deal? No, it can happen.

The dealer sees an outstanding talent
and moves in quick.

Mr Gull has spent the last five years in
America.

I presume he has contacts.

Don't you?

No, not in the States.

Where did you work before you came here?

A private gallery in London.

Before that, I worked in Berlin.

Well, then, you don't have a gun by any
chance.

No, no, I don't.

Um, by the way, where were you last
night?

I was at home, curled up with a
detective novel.

Get in the back.

Come on.

I

believe

you may wish to interview my client.

And further to our meeting last week.

I think you should find the guy.

That's Peter Latimer here, sir.

Good.

Got his lawyer with him, Mr McKenzie.

That Ned.

Listen, we'd better play this by the
book.

Go and get a VEF.

Where's Mike?

Afternoon, gentlemen.

Good day for it. Is my client being
interviewed as a suspect, Chief

Predictable as ever, Mr. McKenzie.
Because if he is, he's got to be

The answer to your question is no.

He's here of his own free will. And to
prove it, he's going to sign a voluntary

attendance form. Now you can leave. Hey,
what's the score here?

Quiet.

I don't want to leave.

Constable, make a note of Mr.

McKenzie's objection to leaving.

Noted.

Yes, sir.

You cannae do that.

You don't have a monopoly on justice,
Daggett.

Justice?

I'll leave that to the man in the gun we
like. He'll take a very dim view of me

being excluded.

Let me show that.

Better what?

Right here.

Let's have a wee later.

Come on, you owe me one. Owe you what?

It's just a wee bash.

A hundred quid's worth of wee bash.

Isn't this?

Yeah, yeah.

All right.

On one condition.

Name it.

Sponsor me in the marathon.

It's for a good cause.

Who's that?

Latimer Searchworth.

Still saying nothing?

Well, his alibi for Wilson's murder is
lying burnt in the mortuary.

And he says he was lying drunk when
Gallagher got it.

I need hard evidence, Jim.

And I need time to establish a link.

The murders are identical. If he did
one, he did the other. Sir, you could

section two. That would give you six
hours.

Get Terry Mason off my bike.

Well, listen, Jackie.

Go and see what you can find out about
this community centre fire.

Latimer said Gallagher taught them.

I'll go and speak to this artist at
Skull Care.

Where's my... Oh, a bit of trouble with
your car, sir.

What sort of trouble?

I'm not very technically minded.

How's the car?

It's smashing, sir.

Right then.

25 ,000.

I'll be in touch.

Peter James Latimer.

I'm detaining you under Section 2 of the
Criminal Justice Scotland Act.

Up yours.

You don't look very happy.

Of course I don't. I'm bloody angry.

I thought I was dealing with Gallagher.

Turns out I'm exclusively contracted to
some company in Boston.

I've never even heard of them.

Meanwhile, I'm accused of selling out
and I'm getting shat on from a great

height by Pete Latimer and his comrades.

That was an awful thing at the community
centre the other day, wasn't it?

I didn't know the lady.

And I don't know how I'm standing
talking to a policeman about fires and

I just paint.

That's all I'm interested in.

Look at me.

Can't even hold a brush for trembling.

Use a lot of this.

Eh? It goes with the job.

What's that supposed to mean?

It's not supposed to mean anything.

It's a discourse on foreign.

I'm a Monarch of the Glen, ma 'am,
myself.

Never a guest.

Listen, you.

One more crack at you, and I'm going to
ask why there's a piece missing from

that Rizla packet.

Yeah?

Listen, it's a bit difficult at the
moment.

I'll call you back, OK?

Don't let me stop you.

Oh, it can wait.

But listen, you better take this.

For forensic?

No, for your coat.

You just sat on my pallet.

You got an ape on you, man? Yeah, huh?

Look, Taggart, you either charge him or
you let him go.

Aye, aye.

Sir, a word.

Where was this?

Under Latimer's bed.

And get this.

Turns out Latimer used to run a day
centre that got closed down because one

his colleagues got caught dealing in
smack.

Flash McGovern.

We've got him.

But charging him's the only way you're
going to get him to speak, sir. And if

doesn't?

We'll have to take a chance, sir. I'll
have to take a chance, Jim.

It's the PF decision.

Don't be so naive.

Do you think the fiscal will go for a
double murder charge without my say -so?

Yeah, but, sir... No buts!

Let him go.

Enquiries are continuing into the murder
of Glasgow art dealer Neil Gallagher,

seen here in some exclusive footage.

at the opening of his gallery in Canal
Street.

Police have just revealed that they've
released a man who was helping them with

their inquiry.

And finally, Scotland's weather. Cold
front effects in the north -west will

bring showers of heavy rain... Come on,
then, David.

Time for bed.

Another rainy day, eh?

Wilson, he comes up here with a
consignment of gear.

He gets tied up, dumped in a car and
shot.

And his gear and his cash are taken.

So why is there no stuff in the streets?

Because Gallagher was sending heroin to
the States and his partners got greedy

again. Cut out the middleman.

So bye -bye Gallagher.

Popped. So Gallagher was exporting?

These art dealers were sending parcels
out of the country all the time. Perfect

front. But where did Latimer fit in?

Could have been framed.

Mudded the waters up a bit. But he's
palm -governed.

Now, who's the guy that's buying all
these paintings?

Sir?

Have you got a minute?

The community centre fire was an
accident.

By investigation, people have confirmed
it.

And look at this.

Gallagher had a bankruptcy order slapped
on him five years ago by customs in

Exxon.

Bankrupt? Yeah, he was claiming bat on
paintings, pretending to export them and

then get rid of them here.

So that's why everything was in Val
Sinclair's name?

What? Oh, I found out that the art
gallery was registered under Valerie

Sinclair. Gallagher had to do that
because he was a bankrupt.

Any theories, Mike?

No, not a fancy one.

I think I'd better go and talk to Val
Sinclair again.

I'll go if you like. No, no, no.

You concentrate on Latimer, and don't
take your eyes off him.

I want to wipe the smile off that
lawyer's face.

Jackie, follow the customs lead.

I know it was five years ago, but I want
to know whose paintings were used in

the court.

Okay, sir.

If we keep the pressure up, Mike,
something's got to give.

I was an employee, that's all.

He made me a director. He did it without
my knowledge or my permission.

A remarkable man, Mr Gallagher.

He makes you a director without checking
your references.

How do you mean?

Well, uh... I phoned a Herr Adler.

That last gallery in Berlin.

You did what?

He got very excited when he heard your
name.

He said you'd been sacked.

Sacked?

Oh, Adelaide, I resigned.

Right.

For criminal incompetence.

I made an error in valuing a painting,
that's all. I told Mr Gallagher the full

facts.

He said it was our little secret.

I see.

This, um, American dealer... Would there
be any drug connection

there?

Drugs? Well, you see, the man that
killed your boss...

Killed a drug courier called Wilson.

And I want to know why.

I don't know anything about drugs or
couriers or anything.

Good look, ma 'am. That's the Gulliver.

I'm not with you.

Well, what I'm trying to say is, was
your relationship strictly professional?

At the time of his death, our
relationship was strictly professional.

And before that?

Oh, Christ.

You just don't let go, do you?

It's not in my nature.

Well, let's face it, Mr. Taggart.

You have to kiss a lot of frogs before
you meet a prince.

There's lots of mamut.

I know Joyce. I came straight home.

Still in there.

You seem a bit edgy, Michael.

You feeling okay recently?

Aye. Got anything to tell me?

No.

I had a very interesting conversation
with Valerie Sinclair.

Oh, aye? About her love life.

Listen, sir. She was having an affair
with Gallagher.

What?

It ended last week over another woman.

What do you make of that?

Do you know, I think our Valerie from
the gallery has upped her sweet little

neck in this business.

Jacqueline, I need your advice.

Oh, I just went to CID, come to the
wooden top.

It's personal, it's... Ditcher.

What?

Ditch her.

You know... Michael, there's only one
man in the station who doesn't.

When they begin, they begin.

Hey,

what's this light doing on?

There's no meant to be any juice on
here.

Hey, Alec.

We've got a couple of sitting tenants
here.

I stand to be corrected, but I reckon
those guys overdosed on pure heroin.

They're that used to adulteration. They
can't take the real thing.

There's about a thousand quids worth of
gear here.

Steaming cash, sir.

I'll take the gun along to Ballistic,
sir. OK, then.

Michael.

Take the tail off that, Emma.

We've got our men now.

So the sheriff says galoshes?

Is that not taking safe sex a bit far?

Here's your drink, sir.

Thank you.

That was Dr Andrews on the phone.

Good news, sir?

That heroin is the purest stuff the lab
has ever seen.

So they did overdose.

Here's to crime.

Two days before Gallagher was shot.

Hello. I believe you're the secretary of
the Argentine Gun Club.

Yeah, I know it's Sunday, but I wonder
if you could help me.

I'm making inquiries into 9mm automatic
weapons.

Yeah.

I need a list of every memory.

The murders were identical.

They must have been committed by the
same person.

Let's say that you wanted to kill
Gallagher and get away with it. Bye

So you find a suitable unsolved murder
and kill him in exactly the same way.

So we've been running about like blue
-arse flies looking for a link between

two murders when we should have been
seeking separate motives for each.

Aye.

Tommy Wilson was knocked off by the
junkies, all right, and then they topped

themselves with their ill -gotten gains.

Gallagher had nothing to do with it.

Exactly. We're back to square one.

Still no luck in the gun club, sir.

Keep trying, Michael.

But how could someone duplicate the
mother so well?

We didn't release any information.

Well, somebody got hold of it, because
that information killed Gullah.

The point is, who had access to the
details?

Let's go through the files again.

Oh, your little black book.

Don't you leave the office behind.

Jackie, cover for me. I've got to go and
check something up.

Look, what will I tell the boss?

Yes, but Michael... Yes, hello, customs
and excise.

Yes, I was speaking the other day, Mr...
Mr Johnson.

Milkman. Where's Michael?

Eh... He's at the keys.

Right, you two, get moving.

Where are we going?

To the woods.

Valerie! I think she's at work.

May I have a pint of creme skimmed?

Can I have a word, Mr. Walker?

I'm in the middle of a match. I'm in the
middle of a murder inquiry.

What do you want?

Did you tell anyone, and I mean anyone,
about what you saw in the tent that day?

No, you told me not to.

I never even told the wife.

Are you sure about that?

Of course I'm sure.

Oh, no.

I tell a lie.

I told the boy's father.

His father?

Aye. He came to see me at the yard.

He said his wife couldn't rest till he
found out what had happened to him.

How he died, like.

Wilson didn't have a father.

He was an orphan.

What did this guy look like?

Well, he's just an ordinary bloke.

I can't remember.

He talked about guilt a lot. Here we go.

Message from customs.

What's this?

It's the name and address of the artist
whose paintings Gallagher was exporting

five years ago.

Mary Hill?

She was five minutes up the road, sir.

Get a full description from him. We're
following this up. Right, sir.

Now...

CID,

get them out of the way.

Would you care for champagne?

Yes, thank you very much.

Where is she?

She's gone to the airport with the
paintings. You've just missed her. Oh,

conniving bitch.

No!

You should watch her temper.

Have you got wheels?

Yes, but... Come on, show me. Come on!

Come on!

But I'm in duty.

So am I.

He got the Rome scholarship, you know.

But he decided to stay here.

Signed the contract for Mr Gallagher,
you see.

Promised the world.

Turned out it bound him hand and foot.

When the paintings were sent away, he
got so depressed.

Went out in his dad's car one night and
got drunk and smashed it up.

Lucky to be alive, really.

You're fine now, though, are you,
darling?

Who's this?

Come on, come on!

Hurry up!

That's my husband, David's dad.

We've taken the accident awful badly,
I'm afraid.

He's been troubled with his nerves ever
since.

Can we speak to him?

Well, no, he's at work.

He's a car park attendant.

On a Sunday?

Is he in some sort of trouble?

Oh, no, you're stupid!

It's all right.

I know a shortcut.

You'd better be right.

Where is everybody?

They've taken all the pictures to the
airport.

Where's Mr Greg? He's gone too.

With the detective.

Mike? Aye, Mike.

Valerie's boyfriend.

Valerie's what?

What are we running here at? A lonely
hearts club?

You get on that phone and stop the
plane.

Which plane?

Any bloody plane.

This doesn't go to the airport.

We're not going to the airport.

All right, all right.

What's this all about?

Those paintings are going nowhere until
they've been searched.

But they've all been checked.

This is Mr Fabrizio.

He's bought all my paintings
legitimately.

I have the documentation right here.

What is the problem?

Sir.

I've just been told.

He's right. We're in the clear.

Turn left.

Here? I'm going to get it all off my
chest.

Hello,

death charges.

Yes, sir. I want armed officers at
Walker's scrapyard now.

One of our officers might be in trouble.

Right, I'll see to that now.

Mr. Gregg, I wish you to make a
statement.

I'm just going to take him into the
office.

What? Oh, for God's sake.

Turn round.

But just do it now.

Hurry up.

So I waited.

Five years isn't long to wait when your
son has a life sentence.

It really would be better if you put the
gun down. Just right.

In some ways, death's a relief.

A blessed relief.

I released Gallagher from his guilt.

And now I can release us too.

I'm not guilty.

Oh, we're all guilty in the sight of
God, my friend.

What's happening?

He's holding Mike inside your office,
sir.

Try the phone.

He's dead.

Damn it.

Jim, what the hell's going on?

No!

No!

Michael?

It's pain.

That's okay. I've got some white
spirits.

Jim? Yes?

Did you ever find that man?

What man?

Frank... McKinvan or something.

Frank McGovern? No, why?

He was just coincidentally disappeared.

Death, I know the fate of like a lover.

Little bear, it's hard to love another
that I found.

This is no meantime.

No means today.

City life is strange. You take your
share of...

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