All language subtitles for Taggart s14e04 A Few Bad Men.eng

The guard is ready for your inspection,
sir. Thank you, Court Honourable.

Evening, Bar.

Evening, sir.

Good.

Evening, Brooks.

Evening, sir.

Button undone on left arm pocket, Court
Honourable. Yes, sir.

Evening, Jones.

Yes, sir.

Good.

If I could just have your autographs,
too.

What's it called? Where?

I'll check and send you first.

Which way did he go?

Down towards the quarters, sir.

Tell him I'll see him in the morning,
will you?

Right, sir.

Good night, sir.

I

just

want to get to the regiment.

Bored up my skull here.

Don't knock it. There's somebody
shooting at you here.

Two send over.

Two, Roger. Out.

Who's that?

Cardinal Wattenhove. I've seen Corporal
Weir. He's out checking sentries.

He'll be round to the married quarters.

He lives in barracks.

When have you been in the army?

What?

You mean...

Don't move.

Morning, Stephen.

Good morning, Jackie.

Chief Inspector Gardner, no less.

Congratulations, my dear fella.

It doesn't stop me getting dragged out
of my bed at six o 'clock in the

though, does it?

Stand. Through the heart, I'd say death
was instantaneous.

Sometime between four minutes past four
and 4 .45 a .m.

That exact?

Well, he left the garden at 4 .04
precisely, and they found his body at 4

You'll find they do everything by the
clock round here.

He was armed.

Hmm.

Standard issue, semi -automatic rifle.

That's what they're looking for.

Yeah, he didn't fire a shot nor raise
the alarm.

Could have been done from behind.

Unlikely, I'd say.

So maybe he knew he's killer.

But he was killed somewhere else.

No.

This is where he was killed.

Who's he?

Major Graham.

I'm Andrew Graham, City Field Officer.

DCI Jordan, DO3.

Hello. How do you do?

Are you the commander of this unit?

No, that's Colonel Sinclair. He's
waiting for you in his office. I'll take

down there now.

We're just a small holding unit.

Rear party. Thick, lame, lazy.

Few recruits from the training regiment.

Rester in Bosnia.

Where were you when the body was found?
In the mess.

I'd just come back from turning the
guard out. Why had you done that?

It was routine, part of my duties.

I call them out at some random time
during the night just to make sure

up to the mark.

And Corporal Weir wasn't there?

He was out checking sentries.

Lanscombe Hornell took the parade. He's
the guard to IC.

Second in command.

So there were two sentries out? Yes,
Private Wilson and Bell. They found the

body. Is it usual for the guard
commander to go out like that? Yeah.

One of his duties.

Cole Hornell.

Yes, sir.

Colonel Concrary, is that it?

Yes, sir. He's got someone with him,
sir.

Who? Sergeant Renshaw, sir. S .I .B.

What's S .I .B.? Monkeys, love.

Military police.

Special Investigation Branch.

I wonder who invited them.

This is DS3 and... I'm sorry, DCI
Jordan.

Ian Sinclair. I'm in command here.

Have you met Sergeant Renshaw?

We have heard he was abode.

Tom Renshaw, SIB.

I've been assigned to this
investigation.

May I ask by whom?

When the soldier's killed, we have an
interest.

As long as you understand that this is a
matter for Southgate Police.

All the same, this is an army base.
We'll be conducting our own inquiry.

Perhaps you can pool your resources.

We do seem to have an embarrassment of
riches here.

Fine by me?

Either way, you can be assured of our
full cooperation.

I'm assigning Major Graham to look after
you.

He'll be able to help you with any of
our little ways that are not familiar.

I find having an officer along opens a
lot of doors. Excuse me.

Colonel Sinclair?

So, what do you think?

Yes, thank you. Just one moment.

I've got a secure line through to the
regiment, so if you'll excuse me.

The guard has stood down now. We've set
aside the briefing room for interview,

so I suggest we adjourn for breakfast.

As we're going to be working together,
maybe we should drop the formalities on

Andrew.

Junkie. Andrew!

Excuse me.

You stick to them like shit to a
blanket.

And keep me informed.

Colonel.

Thank you. You got anything for me?

It's not what I'm here for.

I need a winner.

Tell me about it.

You know why.

Boss. What?

Sorry if I take five minutes.

Five.

Ten pound each for a challenge plate.

Ten pound each for a challenge plate.
That's 74.

Take it 417. Thank you.

You might try that on the last.

Are you sure?

There are no certainties in this
business. If there were, I'd be a

bookie.

Thought we'd lost you, sir.

Don't look lost, do you?

No.

Find anything?

No. What is this, a wind -up?

Sir?

Well, you know Jardine better than I do.
I mean, I'm the new boy on the block.

Is this his idea of a joke?

Jordan is not much of a one for jokes.

Well, if you're trying to pass
counterfeit notes, you're going to pick

and busier meeting than this one.

This gang have been working all the
Scottish courses.

Well, they're not working this one,
Stuart.

See anything you like to look off?

Annie's lad in the 330.

What is that?

Annie was my grandmother's name.

You're a bookie's dream, son.

They all look the same to me.

So what do you fancy?

Fancy a pint? The bar's over there. I'll
catch you up.

Jakey, how you doing?

Mr Ross, I haven't been... Aye, all
right, Jake. It's all you I'm after.

Looking for a guy in his craft and dodgy
notes. Do you know anything?

No.

Honest.

I'm wasting my time here.

So what else do you know?

You might try Gypsy Rover in the last
race.

What's kidding?

Somebody likes him.

Somebody's in for a couple of grand.

Who with?

A man.

Scott.

Aye, well, maybe...

Take care now, Jakey, eh?

Aye.

Who was that?

Jakey Miller.

Watched one of my bookies.

Did he give you any good tips?

There's certain things you don't do on
duty, Stuart.

Cheers.

You and Private Wilson were patrolling
the perimeter?

Yes, sir.

You don't need to call me, sir.

So, You left the guardroom at 3 .45am.

Yes, sir.

I mean, yes.

And the last time you saw Corporal Weir
alive was in the guardroom.

The next time you saw him, he was dead.

And that was 4 .45am.

Tug, that is Private Wilson, looked at
his watch.

If I set out from the guardroom to visit
the sentries who were patrolling the

perimeter, how long do you think it
would take me to find them?

Ten minutes.

Fifteen marks.

We got a problem then, haven't we?

Sergeant?

Missing half an hour.

Look at me when I'm talking to you.

Forty minutes between him leaving the
guard room and the time you say you

him.

What's that got to do with us?

Good question, son.

You tell me.

We're getting that right going over.

Especially the monkey.

What about?

Where were we? Where was Weir? How come
it took us so long to find him?

What did you say?

I said I didn't know.

About Weir?

Nothing.

I don't know anything.

Well, you're all right then, aren't you?

Bye.

Bye, Rosa.

Did you know Corporal Weir was out
looking for you?

You're kidding.

I'm just a thick city, okay?

I'm going to have to make allowances.

He's checking on his right.

Making sure we're not sitting on our
arses somewhere having a smoke.

Were you?

No. Because if you were, I'd just say,
sir, no one's going to hang you for

Nobody's going to hang me for anything.

When Corporal Hornell got to the murder
scene, he said Private Bell was in a bit

of a state.

He's just a lad.

Whereas you, on the other hand, were
calm and collected.

That's a strange reaction, isn't it, to
what you were just saying?

I've seen dead men before.

But this was a soldier.

Comrades. I've seen them as well.

You're obviously new, Corporal. We're
quite well.

Oh, long nights on exercise or
operations. Sometimes there's nothing

but chat.

After you, Johnson. You all right?

Very far.

We'll see if his documents can shed any
light.

Call Hornell.

Call when his docs turn up, yeah? Yes,
sir.

Thank you.

His name is his next of kin.

It's his sister, Diane Weir.

This was updated last year, so that's
probably the right address.

No mention of his wife?

You don't remember Colt Weir's wife, do
you?

Before my time, sir.

Is there any way we could track her
down?

I'm sure someone must remember her. She
presumably came from Glasgow.

Or Germany, or Northern Ireland, or
Cyprus, or Gibraltar.

We pick them up everywhere we go.

Who was out there?

You were out there.

How come you didn't see him?

I don't know.

Well, maybe you did.

Are you saying I killed her? No one's
accusing you of anything.

Did you?

You just want to establish the facts.

I want an officer here.

Never mind about that. I want an officer
here, and I'm not saying I won't. All

right!

This interview is terminated.

You can go.

We'll let you know if we need to talk to
you again.

And just what was that, exactly?

He knows something.

And that's what all this subtle coaxing
was about?

I know squaddies.

Never tell the truth if a lie will do,
especially to people like us.

People like us?

Well, I'm a police officer investigating
a murder. I don't know what you are!

We obviously work in different ways.

And he's your suspect, is he?

Wilson and the other lad. You and I both
know the last person to see the victim

is usually the murderer.

I think you'll find that's always the
murderer.

I think maybe we'd better work
separately.

That's fine by me.

Naturally, I'll pass on anything I find
out.

I respect no less.

I assume you'll do the same.

After all, we are on the same side,
aren't we?

Well, it's not what I want.

It's what that S .I .B. bastard wants.

One of us for killing Darkie Weir.

What did he ask you?

Where I was.

You've got nothing to worry about.

I'm not worried. I know where I was.

And I know where Darkie was.

Don't worry, I never said anything.

But they'll get to you soon enough.

And then they'll want to know where you
were, Private Donaldson.

Come on then, do it yourself.

Let's hope my sister can shed some light
on things.

When you see DCI Jordan, tell him to be
up on.

Sure. Are you coming back?

I'll have to collect him.

Good. I mean, of course. I'll see you
then. Sir!

We've got a problem, sir. Private
Donaldson. What about him?

He's gone.

Gone where?

Abel, sir. Just taken his Land Rover and
legged it.

We'll quickly get your cat away.

Stand easy.

Is this Donald from the blockhouse?

Yes, sir.

They sometimes like to keep those as a
trophy, I suppose.

I didn't think they were a regulation
issue.

The washing and shaving kit's gone.

They've taken some civvies too, no
doubt.

Let's have a look at these.

Boom.

Boom.

Oh, here we are.

Roshalot.

Intellect, was he?

I don't know.

Bullshit.

You practically live on top of each
other in here, you must know.

Did he have one of these?

I don't know.

I mean... Yes, he had a knife.

Oh, he did, did he?

Your mate must have wanted to have been
a murder suspect when he was a kid.

Thanks for nothing.

I did my best for you.

And better for yourself.

No, as it happens, I haven't got time
for this. This problem isn't going to

disappear. It's in all our interest to
sort it out. It's none of my concern.

I'll be doing what I pay you for.

Do you trust her?

I don't trust anyone.

Look, this may not be your problem now,
but it will be. You're involved whether

you like it or not. I told you I'll help
out when I can.

But I've got problems of my own.

Cheers, Jakey.

He's not our mystery punter, is he?

No. Don't know who he is.

See you, Mr Rose. Aye, right.

Gypsy Rover.

You still sulking?

I suppose he gave you that. Yeah.

You wouldn't have backed it.

I might have.

Not unless your other granny was called
Rover.

Looks like your horse has lived up to
its name.

Gone roving.

There's something not right here.

Excuse me, where's the winner?

The vet's just having a look at him just
now, so he won't be. All right.

Apparently he went lame just as they
were bringing him into the winner's

enclosure. He's waving looks at it by
the vet. Ah, well.

Sir, we're meant to be looking for funny
money, not inquiring into the health of

a horse.

A horse doesn't usually win a race, then
go lame just like that.

Go on, Stuart.

Looking for Gypsy Rover. Members of the
public police.

Where's the horse?

Well, my pleasure. Too late.

The leg was broken.

The coast vet destroyed him a few
minutes ago.

They were just taking the body away.

Where's the vet?

That was him just driving off.

If you can still believe me, of course.

And you are?

Archie Haver, Gypsy Rover's trainer.

It was an unfortunate accident.

Surely not a policeman, mister.

Detective Inspector Ross, Mary Hill.

When a horse with no form wins a race at
long odds and winds up dead a few

moments later, there are bound to be
questions.

Such are.

Did you bet on the horse, Mr Hayward?
Really, Inspector, I don't think that

that... Well, somebody put a very large
bet on Gypsy Rover, was it you? I make

my money training horses, not betting on
them.

Now, unless you have anything serious to
ask, I'm going.

And I have to tell you, Inspector, that
I don't very much like your appetite.

The vet's gone.

I got his number.

His name's Palmer.

He looks happy.

Except he rode with Trina.

I mean, I just put the cap on his
perfect day.

Where was Private Donathan at the time
of the murder?

Off the base.

Nobody knows where.

Nobody up there seems to know anything
where we're concerned.

I didn't find it a problem.

You weren't working with the rain show?

Five seconds with him and they all
clammed up.

Trouble is, he was right.

About Wilson and Bell?

I think so.

They know something.

Don't forget, Renshaw needs it to be a
soldier.

He's out to make his name in this one.

He wouldn't mind beating us to the punch
either.

He's an insider.

He's got a head start.

I'm not so sure.

The soldiers resent us, but they despise
him.

That the official line from Major
Graham, is it?

Just what I heard.

He wants to watch it.

Do I?

Uh -huh.

Diane, where?

Look, I've nothing to say, all right?
I'm DCI Jordan, Maryhill Police Station.

Oh.

You'd better come in, then.

I thought you were the press.

They've been sniffing around all
morning.

Your brother named you as his next of
kin?

I suppose I was all that was left.

We weren't that close.

Do you know if he had any enemies?

I thought this was terrorists.

We don't know.

It may be someone with a personal
grudge.

I've never known much about his personal
life.

He was married at one time.

Did you know his wife?

Eileen?

She's long gone.

We were hoping maybe you could help us
trace her.

She came from Glasgow originally.

God knows where she is now.

Or what she's calling herself.

We don't even have her maiden name.

I was trying to think of it just now.

Completely gone.

It's been a bit of a shock.

Well, if you do remember.

In fact, if there's anything you think
you can help us with, why don't you give

me a call?

Cheers.

He was just an ordinary guy.

Just a squaddie, for God's sake.

Who'd want him dead?

I did need two eggs.

You never heard of health eating?

You need building up.

There you are.

Get yourself outside that.

You see, Paulie, that was it going
around.

The noise I'm used to. This place is a
bit like the grave.

But it's not a complaint.

Any idea yet where you're going?

Give us a chance, man, eh?

You can stay here as long as you like.

I would be glad of the company.

I thought we might go out for a wee
drink tonight.

I don't know.

You used to be fond of a drop.

I think I'm out of practice.

Well, go out and see the sights.

The sights?

I've seen the sights.

You can't stay locked up in here
forever.

There you are.

Ta.

Good day, then.

I've had worse.

Hope it jumps it over.

33 -1.

Lucky you laid that one off.

How much did that guy have on it?

As much as I enjoy our little chats,
I've got a lot to do here.

Right then.

I'll see you later.

Aye.

I thought it was you.

Don't pretend you don't know me.

Jakey Miller.

I work for your father.

So, uh, how was it?

Brilliant.

I'll be back.

Sorry if you're concerned, Jakey.

I'm a dead man.

Just forget you ever saw me, all right?

I should have thought you'd had enough
of that.

I didn't have anything to retract.

If you say so.

I've been thinking.

Perhaps you should go and stay at your
mother's for a few days.

My mother's?

I was there at Christmas and that was
enough.

Just do it, will you?

Look, what is this?

You've been like a cat on hot bricks for
days now.

Mary, in all the time we've been
married, have I ever asked anything of

Have I?

Well, do this.

You've had the proof round?

Of course.

What did you want? What did you tell
them?

The absolute minimal.

They'll find out.

They'll be back.

I'll tell them I was in shock.

I am in shock.

And not the only one.

I thought you were going to sort this
out.

Do a deal. What with?

Are you going to put the money up?

I can't. None of us can.

So? Why us?

We're risking everything here. What are
you risking? It's my brother lying in a

slab.

In case he's forgotten.

Ring me from your mother's.

Take good care of yourself.

You've been on my team less than 24
hours, and I'm getting calls about you

the Deputy Chief Constable.

Don't tell me.

The race course complaint.

I sent you out there to find some
counterfeiters.

I didn't show them.

So you decided to investigate the horse
racing industry instead?

They're cutting bright under our noses.

The horse was destroyed?

Not just any horse.

A rank outsider that came in at 33 to 1.

So?

So that's convenient if anyone was up to
something.

Such as?

I don't know.

Maybe the horse was given something.
Maybe it was a ringer. What, a

Wouldn't be the first time.

According to the race course manager,
the vet said the horse had a broken leg.

Nothing could be done.

Did the authorities have any suspicions?

No, sir.

So you know better than the experts,
hmm?

I wouldn't have myself if I hadn't heard
before the race that someone fancied

this horse big time.

Who told you that?

One of my informants.

He works for one of the bookies.

Look, I want to find out who the punter
was, and I want to talk to the vet who

destroyed the house. There's no evidence
that a crime's even been committed.

All right, but you report to me.

You do not go hearing off on your own.

That's not how we do things at Maryhill.

Message received.

Apparently, Ross took a holiday in Spain
with some nude car dealer who had very

dodgy connections.

As a result of the information he got
when he was over there, they were able

bust a big stolen car right back here.

Four men went down for it.

Good result.

Except the four men convicted were all
rivals of the guy Ross went on holiday

with. What happened?

A big inquiry.

He was on gardening leave for the best
part of a year.

Word of it was touch and go whether he'd
be busted back to sergeant.

So they dumped him on us instead?

See for yourself.

You must be DS Reid.

That's right.

Jackie. Robbie Ross.

Welcome to Maryhill.

How are you finding it?

Yeah, I like what it's done so far.

Sir, we must get together sometime.

All of us, for a drink. Get to know each
other.

That'd be nice.

Jackie Miller.

Excuse me, I'll see you around.

Do you know the new deal?

Only by reputation.

Sounds like a good one to work with.

I don't care, Jackie.

I need that punter's name.

Do I ask you how you did my job?

Right. I'll meet you later on.

Yes, tonight.

Usual place.

Half seven, right?

You pick a horse.

Unremarkable. No real form.

That's gypsy rover.

Did you replace him with a much better
horse?

You could only do it the once.

You'd never get the same odds again.

Even as a one -off, you could make a
good killing.

The bookies had any doubts.

They surely wouldn't pay out.

You have to be clever about this,
Stuart.

Spread your bets.

Do you reckon that's what happened?

I hope Jakey Miller's going to tell me
that.

This is hopeless.

Let's just knock it on the head, eh?

One more place, then we'll call it a
day. You said that an hour ago.

I was hoping we might meet Jakey Miller.

Jakey?

I've seen him for years. Well, he's
around.

According to young Stuart, he was lucky
not to have been thrown out or demoted.

So they did the next best thing, which
is to put him under Detective Chief

Inspector Jack.

I'm probably hoping he'll be so hacked
off with Michael's straight -laced ways

that he'll just leave of his own accord.

So do you think I'd fancy him?

Actually, you might.

He's not bad -looking. He's always got a
sense of humour.

I hope that's me you're talking about.

Jackie, aren't you going to introduce
us?

Of course, Rose. This is Mr. Green from
the barracks. Pleased to meet you,

Major. Andrew, please.

I was just passing. I saw you through
the window.

Thought I'd pop in and say hello.

Are you busy?

No, no. I was just leaving.

Any more like him at the barracks.

I'll call you later.

Thank you.

Nice to meet you.

And you.

You took your time. Sorry. It's been a
hell of a day.

I think I pulled her.

I doubt it.

She seems nice.

She's also terrible gossip.

Evening, sir. Evening, Costello.
Everything all right? All quiet, sir.

Colonel Sinclair takes over command of
the regiment when he gets back from

Bosnia.

What about you?

Still in with a chance.

After him.

Is that a big jump in pay?

I suppose so. Why do you ask?

I couldn't help but notice the car the
colonel was driving earlier.

You know, the private income.

Remembering coffee one morning, he
turned to the paymaster and said, John,

flight problem, I haven't been paid for
three months.

And he hadn't noticed?

Just hadn't missed it.

Evening, sir.

Mum. Evening, Thomas.

I was in love this morning.

And Mum, no.

Because you were with me.

I was with you this morning.

Oh, shit.

Oh, dear.

Hello,

Jackie.

And you eat in here on your own?

At the moment, yes.

Don't you ever find it a bit... Stuffy?

Gloomy.

I don't say it like that.

I mean, all this, the positions and the
colours, the silver, it's all part of

what makes up a regiment.

And...

It's bigger than us. It's more important
than us.

Do you see what I mean?

Yeah, I think I understand.

You know, tomorrow's Alma Day.

Another battle?

One of our better ones.

We're having a dinner.

Small numbers, very informal.

I'd be very glad if you'd come with my
guest.

I normally spend Alma Day with my
family.

I'm sorry?

Oh.

I'm not sure it's my kind of thing.

Well, there's only one way to find out.

You're not worried I might let you down?

Use the wrong knife and fork?

I'll risk it.

Well, OK.

Good.

has jakey miller been in tonight

Good call for an ambulance.

Good!

We thought we'd better wait till you got
here.

Well, I hope it's worth it.

You asked to be notified of any incident
involving automatic weapons?

Yeah. Our neighbour reckons he heard
what sounded like a machine gun a couple

hours ago.

The cows have only been milked.

So, who does the farm belong to?

John McLennan. He's got a wife, Mary.

No sign of either of them.

The dog was chained up and when I let
him go he came straight to the slurry

I found a few of these scattered around
the yard.

I'm no expert.

I'd say they were from a rifle.

Probably army issue.

There's definitely something down there.

Shouldn't have to wait long.

Okay then, let's take a look.

A semi -automatic rifle and nobody hears
a thing.

Give me the city life.

Could he have been alive when he went in
there?

Four bullet wounds, two to the body, two
to the head.

Unlikely, I'd say.

One of the local boys is an ex -soldier.

He reckons he's at army issue.

And you think they could have come from
Corporal Weir's weapon?

It's a strong possibility.

Are you done here, Stephen?

No, I'm going to hang around in case the
wife pops up.

Some guy hadn't come down here. His
boots would never have found him.

Was he dead when you got to him?

Yeah.

A lad everywhere.

Was he a friend of yours?

Jakey Miller.

Didn't have any friends.

But it wasn't just you he worked for.

Oh, no.

Jakey wasn't Fred, you do.

Drugs, squads, social services, CFA.

He'd rat on anyone.

So anyone could have killed him?

I think it was what he was doing for me
that got him killed.

You don't blame yourself, surely?

Too right I don't, Stuart.

Just wish I'd had ten minutes with him
first.

What makes you think McLennan was killed
with Weir's weapon?

It's not the kind of gun that's used by
ordinary men.

Still a hell of a coincidence.

I know, but it looks that way.

They haven't established any other links
between them.

Well, I've looked round the house.

There's nothing obvious.

There is a wife somewhere.

Could she be in... In the bloody pit?
No.

We're checking out the rest of the farm.
Of course, she could be a killer.

Wives don't usually kill their husbands
with a rifle.

I'd dream about it, maybe.

The anti -terrorist brand seems to think
they can rule out terrorist

involvement.

I suppose McLennan could have been in
the army.

Look, I thought I'd let you follow that
one up. We've got close military

connections.

You've been spying on me?

Beg your pardon?

Well, you're referring to my evening
with Major Graham.

Jackie, the man's involved in a murder
inquiry.

He's hardly a suspect.

Because he's an officer?

Because he's an alibi.

Do you want me to tell you exactly what
we were doing last night?

Oh, will you, about the personal bits?

We'll start with a bookie. Go on, then,
Yvette.

What was his name?

Palmer.

Morning, Jackie.

Off to the barracks.

Yes, I am.

And I'll be dining with you this evening
in the company of Major Graham.

As and when more details emerge, I'll
put them on the notice board. And, of

course, there will be a full report on
your desk in the morning.

Major Graham, eh?

So...

Jackie's going out with a Rupert. A
what?

A Rupert. That's what they call them,
Ruperts.

He'll not like that.

Why not?

Well, he'll be thinking, if she can
fancy a buttoned -up boy scout with a

up his arse, why not me?

I don't think he thinks of her in that
way.

Oh, come on, Stuart, don't give me that.
And don't tell you haven't either. Sir,

perhaps there's something that you
should know. Yeah, Ross?

The stabbing last night, I believe you
knew the victim.

J .K. Miller. He's one of our
informants. That's how I came to be on

You were meeting him?

That's right.

Who was he in connection with?

Not your horses.

J .K. was the one I met at the races
yesterday.

Do you remember I told you someone was
backing Gypsy Rover heavily?

J .K. was looking into it for me.

And you think his death may have
something to do with it?

That's what I'm looking at at the
moment.

Starting with John Scott, the bookie.
The one Jackie worked for.

OK.

But from what I've heard, any number of
people may have wanted Mr Miller dead.

Inspector Jardine. Chief Inspector,
rather.

Good morning, Colonel.

No, nothing yet.

Well... No, actually.

Yeah... Yeah, that would be fine.

Seven o 'clock.

Okay, I'll see you then.

Just what I need.

Colonel Pinkler from the barrack.

He's invited me for dinner this evening.

I think he wants to build bridges.

We got off to a bad start.

Would that be at the officer's best?

Yeah, I'll have to look out my DJ.

Do you know where else he's going?

Just a few friends.

Not really my cup of tea.

Oh, I don't know. He'd be quite
entertaining.

J .K. worked for me as a runner on and
off for about three years.

When did you last see him?

He was with me yesterday at the races,
then I paid him off in here about five o

'clock. And you didn't see him in the
evening at all?

We weren't boozing buddies.

And you can't think of anyone who'd a
grudge against him?

He came here, he did his job, he went
away. Apart from that, I know nothing

about him.

What about a hospital gypsy roller?

Came in at 33 to 1 yesterday.

Would have cost me a fortune if I hadn't
laid it off.

How's that?

Someone had two grand on it.

That's a lot of money on an outsider.

Did you not think that was strange?

There are plenty of punters around here
with more money than sense.

It happens.

This one paid off.

That happens too.

So did you know this punter?

I was at the track, but he wasn't one of
our regulars.

But someone here will remember him. I
guess they will.

Roger Freeman, he's my manager.

He'll remember him.

Is this something to do with Jakey?

Is Freeman here?

He doesn't start till 11. I could call
him in now.

No, don't bother. We'll come back.

If you do think of anything... I'll let
you know.

Thanks. See you.

Morning. What's the occasion?

Just been to see Diane Weir.

Duty visit, her being next of kin.

Does the name McLennan mean anything to
you?

Why?

He was killed last night.

Possibly with Corporal Weir's gun.

Rifle.

Whatever.

No, it means nothing to me.

We wondered if he might have been in the
regiment at some point.

If he has been, I've never heard of him.

I'll check him out.

So, our man's back to farming now.

Farmer? MacLennan.

He found him in a clurry pit. If you ask
me, he was lucky.

How'd you work that out?

Well, at least he was dead before he
went in.

Are they all like him?

No. Fortunately, he's a one -off.

Doing his job, you don't expect to be
popular, but he's abusing the privilege.

What's going on over there?

Family's moving in.

When the regiment gets back from Bosnia
in three weeks' time, their loved ones

will be waiting for them.

You coming?

I remember him right enough. No everyday
appears. Fix the odd grand.

And you've never seen him before?

Definitely not one of our regulars.

And none of the other staff here
recognised him?

No. Class region?

By his accent.

What did he look like?

I'd say early fifties, short, bit of a
pot on him. Dark brown hair, breezy,

thinning a bit on top.

And as I say, local accent.

Smartly dressed?

No. Baggy arse jeans, trainers, blue bum
freezer jacket.

What did he say?

Oh, he was talking broken biscuits.

I think he'd been celebrating already.

Anything else about him? No, not really.

Right, well, thanks for your help.

If you see him again, will you let us
know? Aye, sure.

Is Rupert Scott in? There was something
else I wanted to ask him.

I haven't seen him. I think he's gone
out.

Aye. I'll ring later.

One. Two.

Three.

Three what?

Men that fit that description, Stuart.

You just described every sad bastard in
a 20 -mile radius.

Shall we start checking the pubs? Ah,
forget it.

Circulate that for what it's worth, and
we'll go see a vet about a horse.

OK, they're gone.

So what did you tell them?

What we agreed.

I thought yesterday was a fluke, but
they've got their suspicions.

I haven't heard any rumours.

Even so, if someone's making dirty
money, I want to know who.

So come on.

What did this punter really look like?

Thanks. Oh, come on, Stuart.

Surely even you can track down a vet.

I know where he is right enough, but we
can't talk to him.

This isn't important. I don't care what
he's doing.

He's not doing anything.

What? He's dead.

Don't tell me they shot him too.

A car accident.

Driving home last night.

So what's your interest in this, sir, if
you don't mind me asking?

Nah, I just need somebody to go out and
work with.

Well, you've missed your chance.

What happened?

It was about half past eleven last
night. A lad and his girlfriend were

round that corner.

Met this guy in the middle of the road.

Headlights on main beam, going like
clappers.

Or so the lad says.

I know him. He's okay.

Oh, they both swear.

And they ended up over the road there.

He ended up there.

Did you know there was anything odd?

No. It all made sense as it was
described.

They breathalyzed the lad. He was clear.
I'm not so sure about him, though. By

all accounts, Mr Palmer had been going
at it in a pub down the road.

Sounds like he was celebrating.

Looks like he had reason.

Hi.

I got your usual.

So, what have you told the bullies?

Is that less possible?

They're mostly interested in Darkie's ex
-wife, Riley.

They're going to find her.

All right.

And when they do, they'll start making
connections.

What are you going to do then?

I'll worry about that then.

Just pray that by then we get this thing
sorted out.

How are you going to do that?

I've got the lads on to it.

Elliot and Matthew.

They say I can't find them when I want
to.

And when they do...

It's the only way any of us live in
peace again.

And that includes you.

That's what McLennan said.

You saw him?

Yesterday, at the races.

He said he needed money.

I suppose he thought that could save
him.

This is going to be on money.

Way beamed.

I've been looking for you.

Have you now?

You got something to tell me?

Private Donaldson's vehicle has turned
up in the city.

Just abandoned it.

So where have you been?

I've been having coffee at the wives'
club.

Careful. That is the most powerful
organisation in the army.

And the most knowledgeable.

Told me a few things about you.

Did they?

More importantly...

I think I've accounted for Corporal
Weir's missing half hour.

He was in bed.

With a Mrs Donaldson.

While her husband's away in Bosnia.

Exactly.

But his wee brother, Private Donaldson,
was still on camp.

So perhaps he took it upon himself to
uphold a family honour.

I've wondered about Mrs Donaldson.

Wondered what?

Well, you know, she's an attractive
woman.

Bit of a goer, I'd say.

I think you've said enough.

By the way, what did the wise club have
to tell you about me?

That's privileged information.

Sorry, pal. Carry on.

I'm closed today.

Ready? This is killing my business.

It won't be long now.

You say.

How's your mouth?

I'll live.

I thought Jakey had it in him.

I've been thinking.

Maybe I should move out for a bit.

You sick of me already?

Nah, it's... I need a bit of space.

Some fresh air.

What have I been saying?

But not here, though.

You mean somewhere green with maybe a
river running through it?

You still got that?

I was going to sell it, but when I came
to it, I couldn't.

It'd be like admitting that she was
gone.

I'll let it in the summer, but it's
pretty now.

Why don't we both go?

I've never been back.

I never will.

But you wouldn't mind if I... No.

You're doing me a favour.

Not yet.

What a name.

It makes sense.

You were saying?

I was saying he's changed.

That's something to be expected.

Remember what he was like?

You couldn't shut him up.

He doesn't talk much anymore.

Do you blame him?

No.

I don't blame him for anything.

You'll be sorry to have missed you.

It's a pity.

Did he say when he'll be back?

Could be days.

Could be weeks.

So where's he gone?

I can't tell you.

He thinks the Boyles might be after him.
He's got nothing to worry about.

I'm not so sure.

He said, tell no one.

He didn't mean us.

No, no, fair enough.

It's a shame, though.

Why's that?

I'm only here for a couple of days.

If I don't see him now, who knows when
it will be?

We're his mates.

We can't trust us.

Who can he trust?

60 -odd thousand quid. I mean, where did
the vet get that kind of money?

Maybe he's our mystery punter.

Or one of them.

Or maybe he was paid for services
rendered.

You're the racecourse vet on the side.
You're halfway there, eh?

Or maybe... Go on, Stuart.

We don't know a crime's been committed
at all.

You sound like Jardine.

Just be coincidence.

I don't believe in coincidence, but

even if I did, two dead men, one dead
horse and a bag full of cash is one

coincidence to me.

Mrs Palmer.

Yes. I'm D .I. Roy, this is D .C.
Fraser.

You'd better come in.

I've already told your sergeant
everything I know.

We're not from traffic, Mrs Palmer.

Sorry?

I understand your husband was a
racecourse vet for this area.

Yes.

What's that got to do with the accident?

Mrs Palmer.

There was a bag in your husband's car
containing a great deal of cash.

Do you have any idea how he might have
got that?

No.

It's just your husband's office.

Hmm.

Do you mind if we had a look around?

In case you'd forgotten, Inspector, this
house is a mourning.

I have a funeral to arrange.

Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Mrs Palmer.
I know it's not a good time, but, um...

Don't you worry about her. You'll not
know we're here.

What's wrong with you?

I'm not sure we should be doing this.

She gave her consent.

And near enough.

I just feel we could have handled things
with a bit more sensitivity.

With a job like this, there are two
approaches. Either you can do it and

over it, or you can just do it. Now, I
prefer the latter.

So I see.

If you've got any problems with that,
Stuart, feel free to keep them to

yourself.

Yes, sir. Because the last thing I want
is you jumping on my shoulder every ten

minutes like Jiminy Cricket.

Point taken.

Right.

Now then, if he was bent, chances are
she's in on it.

That's why I want to turn this place
over while she's going through the

process.

They found out where he is?

No, not yet.

Tonight.

There isn't any other way.

Look, I've been thinking, why don't you
and I just go away for a couple of days?

Anywhere. Just as long as we're not
around when it happens.

I'll fix that.

OK. Right, pick me up here at 5 .30.

Right?

5 .30, yes.

Won't be long now, Mrs Palmer.

I suppose I cut the tease out of the
question.

Seems to have spent most of his time in
Yorkshire.

Moved up here four years ago.

Ghost dancer.

That was quite a horse.

Since when were you an expert?

It won the Derby, the 2000 Guineas.

You're a bloody phenomenon.

The question is, if someone's run a
ringer, where does it come from?

This was 1984.

Ghost Dancer's probably dead by now.

Even if he isn't, he won't be winning
any races.

They'll have bred from him, pound to a
penny.

We can easily trace his offspring.

If they're racing, they'll be
registered.

What if one of them isn't registered?

How do you mean?

Looks like this guy was working with a
champion stallion.

One squirt from a horse like that and
you've got a paper cup full of liquid

gold. But his involvement with Ghost
Dancer ended when he moved up here.

Our ringer would only be a three -year
-old.

Maybe he took some semen and froze it.

Can you do that?

I don't know, Stuart. I'm not a vet.

But he was.

Thank you, Jamie.

Yes, that's been most helpful.

No, no, no. Leave that to us.

Weir's ex -wife.

Now going under the name of McGiven.

She's running a pub in Glasgow.

That's the address.

I've gone and told her.

Shouldn't we pass this information on to
the city, please?

I take it by that you mean the rather
attractive detective sergeant you've

spending so much of your time with
lately.

I just think we should.

You're quite right, sir.

I'll give DCI Jardiner Ring rise away.

Good. Well, if you'll excuse me,
Colonel, I have things to see to for the

armoured dinner tonight.

Of course.

I don't know about you, son, Renshaw,
but I'm getting a little tired of the

army's dirty linen being washed in
public.

You think it might be better if I find
out what this Arlene McGivern's got to

say before I pass it on?

I think it might.

Don't you?

Corporal Weir was visiting Mrs.
Donaldson at night.

And Private Donaldson, her brother -in
-law, knew of it?

Did he threaten him?

Not exactly.

He said he'd write to his brother.

Still. Gives him a motive for killing
Weir. Good work.

Thanks. Would it be possible for me to
get away early tonight?

I've got a few things to... Yeah, sure.

Gypsy Rover, or whatever its name really
was, might turn up somewhere.

Ask the information room to let us know
if they get any reports involving

racehorses. But the horse that won the
race was destroyed by power.

Ah, can we be sure?

Did we actually see a dead horse?

No. Exactly.

So let's keep an eye out, shall we?

Right.

We'll be on the road by seven o 'clock.

Stars.

Where are you off to?

Sounds the border.

Wetherby. I'll be at a couple of racing
stables.

I'll be off then.

Aye, you do that.

I'm getting early night. You're driving.

Nice, Stuart.

What's wrong with him?

You think I'm a brute?

Is he right?

I think maybe people don't always
appreciate my sense of humour.

And I think maybe I owe you an apology
for this morning.

I don't usually go round biting other
people's heads off.

Oh, forget it.

Right after you when you get back from
Yorkshire.

Remember what your mother told you about
walking out with soldiers?

Let's hope she was right.

Where are we going?

Remember that place on the border?

Remember your birthday? I don't
remember.

It's pretty nasty to remember.

The most important thing is to remember
it.

And it's miles away from here.

What are you doing?

I'm caravanning the sticks.

I'm doing it tonight.

God.

That was worse the other way.

We've been through this.

There'll be a lot of questions no matter
where we are.

Well, the less you know about it, the
better then, eh?

Look, by the time we get back, it'll all
be over.

All we have to do then is just keep mum.

OK.

Go on, take these down.

We'd better use your car, mate, it's not
running too well.

We might break down.

It's in the garage.

Swap them red and I'll be down in a
minute, OK?

Are they looking for him? Yeah, he's
down here.

Are you John?

That's right.

Who are you?

I'm Private Donald.

There you go.

So...

Do you want to make a statement?

Just that I didn't do it.

Why don't we start with where were you
when Corporal Weir was killed? I was

a bird.

Name?

Address? I can't remember.

I was out round the clubs and I just
picked her up along the way. We went

to her place.

God knows where it was.

I can't even remember getting back to
camp.

About your sister -in -law and Corporal
Weir.

How long had you known about that? A
couple of weeks. Look, I come back,

I? That's not the action of a guilty
man.

No. But running away is. I knew I looked
good for it.

Wilson and Bell, the guys I share a room
with, they said you were straight, but

that S .I .B. bastard just wanted a
scalp.

Tell me about McLennan.

Who?

Look, I don't know anybody called
McLennan, right? And I didn't kill

Weir. I had nothing against the guy.

He was screwing your brother's wife.

If I was going to do anybody, I'd have
done her.

And you didn't blame Corporal Weird?

What's a guy supposed to do if he's
there on a plate for him?

Yes, Pet?

Eileen McGiven?

That's the name above the door?

I understand you were married to
Corporal Weir.

Who are you?

Sergeant Renshaw.

You didn't call me Tom.

S -I -B?

I thought somebody'd turn up sooner or
later, but I expected a civic boy.

Yeah, I'm sure they'll get round to you
eventually.

I'm not sure they'll be much here.

I haven't seen him in years.

What is it you want, exactly?

Well, I'm hoping you can fill in some
background for me.

OK. Fire away.

You married Corporal Weir in... 1980.

It was private, Weir, then.

We were divorced in... Must have been
85.

Can you think of anyone who might have
wanted to kill him?

How long have you got?

All the time in the world.

Thank you.

You look fantastic.

Thank you.

So do you.

This old thing, I've had this for years.

I'm not late, am I? No, no, you're fine.

You heard about Corporal Wears' wife?

No. We had a call from the regiment.

I knew someone out there would remember
her.

Anyway, she's apparently called McGiven
now, one of the pub in Glasgow.

When did you find out that?

That afternoon, after you'd gone.

Why didn't somebody tell her?

Well, son, Renshaw was here when the
information came in. He said he'd let

know.

He obviously forgot.

I don't like Renshaw stealing a match
from us like that.

I thought it wasn't a competition
between you two.

It isn't.

Just as long as we win.

Let me take a kite.

Oh, thank you.

I'll just get my drink.

Excuse me.

Jackie. Jackie.

Michael. Why didn't you call me in the
morning?

What is it?

I'm sorry?

You're here as a guest.

Major Graham invited me.

That's right.

I thought something had happened.

I thought you were looking for me.

Actually, I wasn't expecting to see you.

This painting?

The Black Watch at Alma.

Here we are.

Good evening.

Hi.

No need for introductions, then. Good.

Splendid. Chief Inspector.

Michael, please. Glad you could make it.
Sorry it was such short notice.

Come on, let's meet the brigadier.

Why didn't you tell me he was going to
be here?

Why, is there a problem?

The problem is he's my boss.

I thought the police weren't rigid and
hierarchical.

They're not.

But he is.

Well, don't let it spoil your evening.

Have you got any more surprises up your
sleeve?

I don't think so. Because if Sergeant
Renshaw pops out from behind that door,

I'm off.

Probably find Sergeant Renshaw's
arresting the murderer as we speak.

Don't remind me.

The Brigadier seems to have gone to
ground.

Still, while I've got you on your own,
have there been any developments?

You'll probably find out quite soon,
anyhow.

We have Private Donaldson in custody.

You found out? He found out.

So what has he been up to?

He denies killing Corporal Weir.

Who's this?

Private Donaldson.

Excuse me, sir.

I'll be right with you.

Oh, Donaldson's turned up.

Just after you left?

So did Corporal Weir's wife.

What? When?

Sometime this afternoon.

Unfortunately, Renshaw beat us to it.

I feel I should point out there are very
strict rules about talking shop in the

mess.

I'll tell you later.

When in Rome?

Son, Matthew.

Choke, flange, nagel.

Slash.

Ladies. When in Rome, Jackie.

Catching up on regimental history.

Yeah, I've got it bad.

Actually, I think I've found something.

What am I looking at?

This woman in the middle here.

Is Diane Weir?

Apparently looks like her.

Of course it's her.

Diaper 32.

She's probably just out there visiting
her brother.

Read the caption.

Diane Brodie.

Read on.

Diane Brodie congratulates the winners
of the regimental pair's target shooting

tournament. Her brother, Private Weir,
and her husband, Lance Corporal Brodie.

What?

Exactly.

Are you two at it again?

You're supposed to be off duty.

Couldn't help it, I'm afraid.

See?

It's Corporal Weir's sister.

Go on, say who it is.

Except her name's Diane Brodie.

And that's her husband, Lance Corporal
Brodie.

She was married to a man in the regiment
and she never mentioned it.

Dear God! I told you I had a job on. Is
everything ready?

Yes. I'll get changed.

I couldn't believe it when we were
ushered out.

It's a tradition.

It's an outmoded tradition.

Is there any other kind?

Have you enjoyed yourself?

Yeah.

Even though your boss turned up?

That wasn't your fault.

One body badly burned.

You on recognition?

His own mother wouldn't know him.

Is that the cause of death?

That's too early to say.

So why am I here?

Well, there are by now customary signs
of automatic gunfire.

You did ask to be kept informed.

Don't remind me.

There are also the remains of a propane
canister scattered down the bray.

Must have exploded.

Do we know who owned the caravan?

Oh, some old chap from Glasgow named
Guthrie.

Hey, my dear.

A local farmer heard gunfire about 10
.30 p .m., followed by an explosion.

Around about the time I imagine you were
saying your fond farewells at the

officer's mess.

Morning.

What are you doing out about so early?

Hoping I'd catch you.

That man in the photograph last night,
Lance Cobble Brodie?

Well, he became St. Brodie, and St.
Brodie's in jail.

What for?

Murder.

Killed a man in Northern Ireland.

So at a vehicle checkpoint, they'd
stopped the car, and the driver started

giving them some lip, and Brodie just
flipped and shot him.

Was he a terrorist?

A DSA.

Decent Ordinary Criminal.

People that the police asked us to keep
an eye out for. He was a drug dealer. No

great loss.

Ironic, really.

If Brodie hadn't shot him, the boys
probably would have.

Is that meant to reassure me?

Was Corporal Weir there by any chance?

I'll find out.

An old man from Glasgow called Guthrie.

God knows where he fits in.

Right. And you're going over to see this
McGovern woman just now?

OK. Keep me informed.

Thanks, Jackie.

You know, the more I learn about this
case, the less I understand.

Last night I found out that Corporal
Weir's sister was married to a man in

regiment.

Turns out he's in prison for murder.

You think there may be a connection?

You tell me.

That's your province, and welcome to it.

I'm off to mine.

Joe Brodie.

I remember him right enough.

And he was married to your husband's
sister.

Your sister -in -law. We never got on.

She always thought she was a cut above.

When Joe got banged up for murder, she
dropped him like a hot potato.

Last I heard, she was shacked up with
some bookie.

This incident in Ireland was your
husband's death?

I don't think so.

Of course, Darkie and me were divorced
by then.

He had this girl in Cyprus.

Scots. Ran the Garrison Pony Club.

I'd always lived with it in the past,
but this was one too many.

Just my lucky.

Couple years after that, he comes into
money.

A lot.

Where did he get it from?

Some long lost dunk or something.

Anyway, left the army and bought a pub.

Course, that was never going to work
out.

Not with him filling the bar with his
cronies, drinking the profits and

the barmaids as fast as you could shove
them under him.

This girl from Cyprus, was she still
around?

She was long gone.

Do you both remember her name?

Alison.

Alison Guffrey.

She gave me a very nasty end.

Mr Lacey?

Yeah?

OK, well, he seems fine now.

Detective Inspector Ross, Strathclyde
Police. This is D .P. Fraser.

Morning. Strathclyde?

Glasgow.

You do own this yard, sir?

Yes, I do, but I'm pretty sure I've
never been to Glasgow in my life. I

I'd have remembered.

Actually, we were hoping you might be
able to help us with our inquiries about

man who used to work round here, John
Palmer.

The vet?

What's he been up to?

He was killed in a car crash two nights
ago.

Good God.

Well, that's terrible.

Were you any friends?

Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say
that, but we did move in the same

And he was the vet for this yard?

Yeah. For eight or nine years.

So what's your interest in this?

Was there something suspicious about his
death?

Not too early to say yet.

Well, what then?

At the time of his death, he was in
possession of a large sum of money.

Inspector, I haven't seen John Palmer in
a good many years.

I really don't think I can help you.

Looking through his study yesterday, it
appears he was closely involved with a

horse called Ghost Dancer.

Yes, he was.

Well, for several years.

That was some horse.

Is he still alive?

Actually, he is.

He's enjoying an honourable retirement
here at the yard.

Shall we go see him?

You're a beauty, aren't you?

So during Ghost Dancer's glory years,
John Palmer was the vet here?

Yes, as I've already told you.

Then he went up to Scotland and became a
racecourse vet. So I understand.

What is all this about?

A couple of days ago, a complete
outsider won a race at Hamilton at 33 to

Well, it does happen.

So I'm told.

But it won't happen again. Not for that
horse, anyway.

Well, of course not. He won't get
anything like those odds on his next

Well, he'll never win a race again.

Not unless he's inside a greyhound.

Apparently he was destroyed shortly
afterwards.

Oh, that's a shame.

I still don't see what this has got to
do with me.

A small number of people made a great
deal of money from that horse.

Well, I wasn't one of them. Maybe not.

But I think John Palmer was.

And you think he might have been
involved in some sort of scam?

We're looking at a possibility.

Like a ringer?

Yes. Well, a ring is most likely a
registered horse that bears a close

resemblance to the one it's
impersonating.

Or an unregistered horse that's been
bred from a champion, like Ghost Dancer.

Not sure I like the turn this
conversation's taking.

If you're suggesting I or anyone at this
yard had anything to do with this...

I'm just pursuing a line of inquiry,
sir.

Don't insult my intelligence, Inspector.

I don't know how you do things in
Scotland, but down here you're expected

have at least a shred of evidence before
you go making accusations.

Burned out, you say?

I'm afraid we also found a body.

Was someone staying there?

Joe.

Joe Brodie.

Ex -Sergeant Brodie?

That's him.

He'd just gone out there for a couple of
days.

I thought he was in prison.

He got out on parole a week ago.

And why did he come to you?

He used to be my daughter's boyfriend.

Used to be?

She's dead.

Been dead for years.

But Joe and I became friends.

He was my last link with her.

And what was he doing at the caravan?

Lying low.

He thought that lot over the water might
be after him.

The man he killed in Ireland had no
terrorist connection.

They always say that, don't they?

They wanted him.

And they got him.

Did anyone else know where he was?

Just the two lads.

Ian and Jim.

Who are they?

Old army mates.

They came here looking for him
yesterday.

I told them where he was.

I'm going to need their full names.

They're his friends.

They wouldn't hurt him.

You myself.

Jim Elliot.

Ian Matthew.

Were they all in the same regiment?

Aye.

But they're out now, I think.

And there's no one else?

Just the sergeant.

He came later on.

But he was Army too.

Renshaw?

That's my colleague. I'll go and let her
in.

What is it?

I need to speak to Mr Guthrie.

According to Eileen McGivern, Corporal
Wee had an affair with his daughter.

He's not the only one.

It was Sergeant Brodie. It was him and
the caravan last night.

Had he told you about his daughter?

He mentioned it.

Did he mention that she was dead?

Yeah. Did he mention she was murdered?

When did Alison die?

14 years ago this May coming.

And what happened exactly?

They just found her one morning. She was
lying on her bed.

Her neck was broken.

And no one was ever charged?

She had two or three boyfriends at the
time. They were all questioned, but

what's this got to do with Joe?

Well, you just told her that he had an
affair with your daughter at one point.

That was years before.

Do you know if they were still in
contact when your daughter died?

Joe had a wife.

I never approved of that.

But what can you do?

Joe was a good man.

Anyway, he stuck with his wife and
Alison went to England.

And as far as he knew, that was it?

Joe came to see me after she was killed.

Brought some of the pals that had known
her in Cyprus.

Including Elliot and Massey, the guys
that were here yesterday?

Aye, them.

What about Corporal Weir?

Darkie?

I don't remember.

Where was Alison living when she was
killed?

The owner sent me a letter.

Charlton. She's really back.

Alive?

Where is she?

No, no, keep her there. I'll be right
over.

McLennan's wife has turned up. Down in
the farm. That's where I'm off to now.

Find out any more you can about Alison's
murder.

He's just away to find a lap address
now.

Right. Then get down to the barracks. I
want to know exactly where Weir and

Brodie were when that girl was killed.
And find out what Ren shows up to.

That's the address there.

North Yorkshire?

Jardine.

J -A -R... Superintendent.

Not yet. Chief Inspector.

Maryhill Police Station.

I'll give you the number if you like.

I can get the number.

I assure you I shall be talking to Chief
Inspector Jardine within the hour.

Why not get straight to the top? Most of
my complaints go to the Chief

Constable's office.

You're kidding.

You are kidding.

The thing is, we're right there now.

Right there.

No. I'm not.

Look, I'll have to go and speak to Ross.

Now, look, I want you in the meantime
off my land.

Sir. What?

Just had Jackie read in the phone.

I thought you looked excited, Stuart.

She wants us to check something while
we're down here.

Tell her to do her own legwork.

No, no, it's murder.

I'm still not impressed, Stuart. In
fact, it's two.

Do you remember that soldier that was
killed?

Well, there was another one killed last
night.

And they both had an affair with a
Glasgow girl who was murdered here.

Oh, Jackie can come down here tomorrow.
It's a nice enough drive.

She was murdered here.

What do you mean, here?

Right here.

Her name was Alison Guthrie, and she was
working as a stable girl in this yard.

What was the date you were after, ma
'am?

The 8th of May, 1985.

What's this about?

I need to know where Corporal Weir and
Sergeant Brodie were on that night.

Why? What happened?

It's just something we're following up.

Here we are. The main body moved to
Ireland on the 15th of May, 1985.

So they were still on the mainland.

Unless they went with the advance party.

No, here they are.

Patrol platoon moved with the main body.

Patrol platoon?

That was a special unit set up for
Northern Ireland. They did things like

observation posts, night patrols,
ambushes.

And Sergeant Brodie was in this unit?

And Corporal Weir.

What about these two?

Who are they?

His two names that have cropped up?

That couldn't be Sergeant Massey, could
it?

Is he still in?

Yes, he's the pipes hand.

Played in the mess last night.

Here he is, sir.

Private Massey, same initials, also
patrol platoon.

And what about the other one?

Yes, Private Elliot.

I don't remember him. He must have left
since.

I need to speak to Sergeant Massey.

See if you can find him, Colonel, would
you? Hang on, sir.

The last two weeks before the main body
move, patrol platoon were down at

Catterick doing work -up training.

Catterick, that's in Yorkshire, isn't
it?

That's right.

How far is it from Weatherby?

Yeah, this looks promising.

Is it open?

Oh, yeah.

This will do fine.

Don't bother parking.

I want you to check out the locals.

Find out what you can about Alison
Guthrie's killing.

I'm going to sit in there and have a
think.

Have one for me.

Remember what I said yesterday, Stuart?

About what, sir?

About coincidences.

Oh, aye.

No such thing.

Well, either I'm wrong, or we've just
stumbled on the mother and father of all

coincidences. Or else, you, me, Jordan
and Reid will be working on the same

case.

Just been talking to McLennan's widow.
Turns out McLennan wasn't always called

McLennan. Changed his name.

Apparently it was a condition of
inheriting a sum of money from his

died childless.

Another uncle?

What?

Nothing. His original surname was
Leslie, and he was in the army.

Guess what regiment?

I bet I can guess which platoon he was
in as well.

What did you say his name was?

Leslie.

There we are, Leslie.

Patrol platoon.

Special unit set up for Northern
Ireland.

Look at the names around it.

Brodie and Weir.

And Mr Guthrie's visitors, Elliot and
Matthew.

So all these men were on the same
platoon? Same section.

And Alison Guthrie died.

Not only that.

Patrol platoon were exercising on
cataract training area not ten miles

where Alison was murdered.

And now three of them are dead. We need
to find the other two that are still

alive.

Matthew's still in the army.

He was the piper from last night.

They're looking for him now. He seems to
have disappeared.

What about the other guy, Elliot?

He's long gone. Trying to track him
down.

Alison Guthrie.

She's the key to all this.

Any word from Ross or Fraser?

Not as yet.

Diane Weir.

She must know what this is all about.

She's not at home. I've been trying her
mobile number all morning.

Nothing.

No answer.

died of multiple stab wounds to the
abdomen.

She was killed in the car.

You mean the man wasn't?

I'd say he died in the boot.

Massive trauma to the head.

And then someone dragged him round to
the driver's seat afterwards.

Looks as though the killer was someone
with a sense of theatre.

Any idea what time?

Oh, sometime last night before seven o
'clock.

That's when the car park closes.

Right, well, if you'll excuse me, I'm
finished here.

Sergeant Brodie.

Looks likely.

He gets jailed and his wife runs off
with a bookie.

Then who killed Brodie?

Here

you

go.

The ice is melting.

Cheers.

So? Alison Guthrie worked at the yard
for about 18 months.

Right. Apparently she got herself a bit
of a reputation.

Boyfriends? One regular and a couple of
spares.

Anyway, she was found dead on the
morning of 9th of May, 1985.

She was lying on her bed, fully clothed.
Her neck was broken.

Any evidence of sexual assault?

None at all. And nothing was stolen.

She was last seen in...

Well, here, actually.

At closing time on the night of the 8th.

She left in her own car, alone.

That was the last time she was seen
alive.

Presumably these boyfriends were
questioned.

They all had cast -iron alibis.

Her main boyfriend didn't seem to mind
her playing around.

There was no fights, no arguments,
nothing.

What about the people at the yard? What
about Lacey?

All questioned. All ruled out.

Lacey wasn't even here at the time.

He was staying with friends on the other
side of the county.

I feel so perfectly.

The local police assumed that she picked
someone up in the road between here and

the yard and took them back to her room.

Something must have went wrong.

Maybe she changed her mind.

He killed her and legged it into the
night.

Aye. We know things that they don't.

Hello?

Yeah, that's right.

Really?

Where?

Yeah. Hang on.

I'll tell him.

Tell him what? That was the information
room.

Someone's found a racehorse.

The boss first started seeing Diane Weir
13, 14 years ago. She was Diane Brodie

then. Still married.

Bit of a looker.

Then her husband got jailed and she
dumped him.

Smart move.

If you say so.

Setting up with a well -heeled bookie?

You're joking. His arse was hanging out
his trousers.

She had the money.

She did?

Aye, she swam through a few difficult
years, and then when things got better,

they were able to expand.

Did she ever mention her ex -husband?

No, it was like he never existed.

I assumed he'd thrown away the key.

Now, was Mr Scott worried about anything
in the last few days?

Aye, but no about Diane's ex. At least,
I don't think so.

Well, what then?

Well, first of all, there was J .K.
Miller getting done. I mean, the boss

like J .K. Nobody did, but none of my
good while.

Anything else?

Just before that, a horse won a race.
Very long odds.

Did Scott lose by it?

No, he laid the bet off.

But he thought there was something
really strange about it. Wanted to find

punter.

Okay.

What's my position here?

Your position?

I mean, he was the boss. I had to do
what I was told.

Meaning?

I gave a description of the punter to
your man, Roth.

Let's just say it wasn't as helpful as
it might have been.

Forget about what you've done in the
past.

It's now in your best interest to tell
us the truth.

The description I gave could have been
MD.

MD local, that is.

So what was he like?

Above average height, well -dressed,
educated upper -class accent.

Well, it may be nearer to the truth, but
it doesn't get us very far.

Could be this vet, John Palmer.

Could be any number of people.

Any joy with Elliot and Massey?

I thought Massey disappeared.

Absent?

Pipe and drums are in Bosnia, which
makes him a pretty free agent at the

He could be on legitimate business.

What about Elliot?

We're checking.

Right, thanks.

Any chance you can tell me what this is
about?

Try asking Sergeant Renshaw.

If we can find him.

As soon as we get something concrete,
we'll let you know.

Fine.

I'll be in headquarters.

Was that necessary?

Right. What have we got?

Five men, all in the same section.

Three of them are now dead.

Two of them knew Alison Guffey really
well.

And all of them were within a few miles
of her the night she was murdered.

There's something else they have in
common.

At least three of them came into money
at the same time.

For Clennan bought a farm.

Weir bought a pub.

Brodie's wife had money when she set up
with Scott.

Straight after the Ireland tour.

Brodie shot a drug dealer.

Maybe that's where the money came from.

We don't know that they were involved in
that.

Well, they were all involved in
something, all right.

According to Fraser, D .I. Ross reckons
we've all been working in the same case.

I think the D .I. may be right.

I don't understand.

The horse in the field was the winner of
the race. Which horse was shot?

No horse was shot, Stuart.

I suppose injury to the horse's leg was
just a device to get it away before any

possibility of a blood test or whatever.

I mean, if the trainer hadn't told me
I'd been shot, I wouldn't have bothered

following up.

You didn't mind the complaint?

I'm rather surprised to see you back,
Inspector.

I thought I'd made my position clear
last time we spoke.

Crystal clear, sir.

So what's changed?

Well, I've got a dodgy horse race, a
disappointed horse, six dead men, and do

you know what linked them all up?

A dead wee girl called Alison Guthrie.

And that means this yard, and that means
you.

Before I start, I want to say I have no
idea who killed Alison.

And I know nothing about any horse
racing scam.

But?

The night Alison was killed, Ghost
Dancer was stolen.

Why the... Big death.

We've tracked down Elliot.

He left the regiment in 1985.

Here's your dress.

Three after the Northern Ireland tour?

Exactly. Apparently he came to some
money, bought a garage.

Come on.

Thank you. Jackie, what's going on?

I... I can't see right now.

Anything wrong?

No. Jackie!

I'll speak to you later.

I don't know.

I thought I told you to keep me
informed.

Colonel, if they don't tell me, I can't
tell you.

I'm disappointed in you.

She certainly seemed to be very
forthcoming last night.

Are you busy?

You need help.

You can relax now.

It'll be a while yet.

Did you start the weapons?

Broken up and chucked in the river. Have
you spoken to Diane?

I gave her a call, but there was no
answer.

Just up here on the right.

Yes. Right.

You're breaking up.

Is there any way you can pull over for a
minute?

That's better.

Give her the call as soon as we can
speak to Sergeant Matthews.

Right. Thank you.

What's Ross got?

Most of the missing bits.

The night Alison Guthrie was killed, a
valuable horse was stolen from the same

yard. And nobody linked the two.

It was all hushed up.

They paid a huge ransom.

I mean, nobody knew a crime had been
committed, let alone who'd done it.

That's where the money came from.

Ross reckons John Palmer, the vet, was
involved.

He did all the negotiating, handed over
the ransom money.

Where's Ross now?

He's on his way back up. They're going
to visit Palmer's widow.

Oh, Michael.

I'm glad I caught you.

I've got something interesting.

Jackie, that chap in the caravan.

Indications of ligatures on the wrists.

His hands were tied. That's right.

And when we cut away the clothes, we
found the remains of a wallet.

Nothing readable in it, but there was
this.

What is it?

A soldier's I .D. disc.

You can just make out the name.

Good day.

Wrong. Rachel?

Mr. Ross.

Mrs. Palmer.

Not more questions, surely?

I'm afraid so.

Can't it wait?

This has all been rather a shock.

I think you'd better prepare yourself
for another.

Sergeant Massey.

Still there, aren't we?

For the time being.

How's the pain?

I can live with it.

How much do you know?

Pretty much all of it.

We need you to fill us in on a few
details.

Whose idea was it to steal the horse?

Joe's. Joe Brodie.

He was still seeing Alison on and off.

She told him of a goat dancer and what
he was worth.

Well, the IRA took share, Gab, didn't
they?

Only they screwed up.

We didn't. Is that where Brodie got the
idea?

We never asked.

And Alison, was she involved?

She saw us.

Brodie dragged her away.

Came back later and said he'd talked her
round.

A few days afterward, he told us what
had really happened.

Said it was an accident.

Maybe it was.

Joe never knew his own strength.

Who looked after the horse till the
ransom was paid?

We never knew.

Joe led the horse down to the road. It
was loaded onto a horse box and away.

In two hours, we were back in the
training area.

And afterwards?

Ireland. We agreed to have the share out
when we came back.

Only Joe, he'd always been a psycho, but
after Alison, he really lost it.

He killed that paddy and got himself
jailed. So Brodie got out of prison,

knowing that his wife had run off with
his share of the loot.

But he didn't know where to find her.

So he went to the barracks to see
Darkie.

Corporal Weed. Aye.

Darkie played for time, arranged to meet
him again and warned the rest of us.

There was no money to be had.

We were none of his exactly financial
wizards.

It was all gone.

And when Brodie found out Weir was
stringing him along, he killed him?

We knew we'd be next.

We weren't waiting to be bumped off, so
we went after him.

I could have sworn he went up in that
caravan.

The man you killed was a military
policeman.

Sergeant Renshaw.

That S .I .B.

Pratt, what the hell was he doing there?

He reckoned Brodie killed Weir.

Found out where he was hiding from the
same place you did hold Mr Guthrie. Went

out after him on his own.

Big mistake.

Go on.

Tell me about J .K. Miller.

I reckon Joe killed him to shut him up.

J .K. Miller was alive when we left him.

I swear it.

So the vet was in on it? That's right.
When the horse was stolen, John Palmer

hid it whilst the owners came out with
some cash.

He took the chance to extract some semen
from it as a sort of insurance policy.

And the soldiers didn't know anything
about this?

No. It was all done through an
intermediary.

Someone who knew Brodie and his lads,
but mixed in the same social circles as

John Palmer.

That's right.

An army officer.

I'm Brodie.

Not anymore.

Get in.

Look, Brodie, just get in.

The best thing you can do is shut up.

Good evening, sir. Evening call, Wilson.

All well?

Yes, sir.

Wilson, he calls me.

He must be pissed.

Where to?

Don't know.

Inside.

Corporal Hornell?

Mr. D. Connor Sinclair. Is he still
here?

I haven't seen him leave, sir.

Is he just back over there and booking
at the gallery?

Would you mind knocking, Ian?

Sit down.

Brodie.

You think I wasn't coming?

I've been following your progress.

It hasn't been difficult.

Nice of you to take an interest after
all this time.

No one asked you to kill that Irish lad.
That's none of our business.

As for the money, you got your share.

We gave it to Diane.

Ian, would you mind ex... Tell him.

Because it doesn't matter now.

When you go, he's going with you.

It doesn't have to be that way.

Oh, yes, it does.

There's still money.

I've got money.

We've gone beyond that.

Way beyond that.

Admin office.

Aye. It's Corporal Horner here.

Just tell the boss that's the police on
the way up.

Aye, right.

What the hand did to you was wrong, but
it was that of my hand.

That was always you.

Hands clean.

Hands off.

Always somewhere else when the dirty
work needed doing.

Well, not this time, Sinclair.

Come in

Are you all right, sir?

Brody! Don't be stupid!

I'm done taking orders!

Officer class, eh?

Even have to have their own criminal
conspiracy.

One crime for the poor bloody infantry
and a little exclusive one all to

themselves. And there's only one
officer.

Pommel is in it, just to say.

I was thinking about him.

His car crash was a genuine accident,
wasn't it?

Looks like it.

And Jackie Miller was killed by Brodie
to cover his tracks.

And your point is, Stuart?

Well, the two deaths that set us off on
this, they weren't related.

At least not in the way we thought.

You'd almost call that a coincidence.

Right result, wrong reason. Happens all
the time, Stuart.

I was just wondering, sir.

How did this Sergeant Renshaw get
himself killed?

By not being a team player.

Didn't want to share the credit for
catching Brodie with anyone else.

Well, there's a lesson for us all.

Mind you, he did seem to be one step
ahead of you all the time.

The trouble was the rubbish.

He was walking in the minefield.

Someone's come out of this with some
credit.

He'll be a hero.

Michael, hello. Good night.

Chances are he'll be the next commanding
officer.

And he gets the girl.

Well, she'll have to watch her step with
him.

From what I hear, he's a pretty good
shot.

Take your share of...

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