Original subtitles

First day back, uh?

Aye. Tommy Stark, transferred from Vice.

That Drummond girl? She's fucked up.

Gerry was my first partner. My mentor.

He left the polis ten year ago, started a new life as a woman.

This is my friend Gayle's place. She's a vulnerable transwoman.

She's been in a very secretive relationship

with a high-profile sugar daddy.

Someone made Gayle sign an NDA

to say she wouldnae discuss the relationship.

Name's blanked out.

A boy nearly lost his wedding tackle.

And I went and saw the mess at the Landsburgh Hotel.

We need to know who was in that room.

All stories have setbacks,

especially when you factor human emotion into the tale.

Recovery requires us to meet these emotions head-on,

to be alive to them, but not controlled by them.

Easier said than done, when the emotion generated by what you face

is one of unbearable horror.

You don't belong with them.

Based on body temperature and the ambient temperature at the scene,

death was around 4 to 5pm yesterday.

There's a blow to the head, unlikely to be fatal,

probably knocking him unconscious.

Marks on the body suggest the victim was dragged and hung after he died.

Now, the fatal wound is in the groin area.

The victim bled to death.

The unusual entry point and lack of serration around the wound

suggests this wasn't carried out with your average kitchen knife.

What about this?

This flourish was postmortem.

"Hashtag two, the strange case."

What does that mean?

Dr William Durie,

a GP practising for over 25 years in Wester Hailes.

MBE for services to the community, salt of the earth.

Maybe somebody didnae think he was that squeaky clean.

Death caused by slashing the femoral artery in the groin.

Hung from a lamp-post postmortem.

The carving on his chest reads, "The strange case number two."

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

and we have whispers of an attack here.

The Landsburgh Hotel.

A crime we can't investigate. Ray...

What connects the saintly Durie and the anonymous toff?

Tommy, Norrie, grow your source. Find out who he is, who he was with.

Ray, you can't do this.

If we have two-tier policing, democracy's fucked!

Democracy is not our concern.

Following the orders of your superiors is.

Hear that, boys? Better not do it, then, eh?

Understood.

Don't tell me.

Public safety.

There's a serial killer on the loose.

The Establishment is to blame.

Well...

It looks that way, boss.

Two days.

He's been back two days

and you're still spouting the same nonsense

I've been putting up with for years.

William Durie, dead. Gayle Nicholson silenced and then disappeared.

And we can't investigate

because some overprivileged nonce pulls the strings?!

And maybe Gayle disappeared because she left her boyfriend for dead.

Nothing's feeling right, Bob.

Investigate the doctor.

See where it takes you.

Find Gayle Nicholson.

She's our prime suspect.

Play the system.

You can't fight it!

Two attacks in a week, both targeting the victim's groin.

The lover of one disappears without trace.

We've done more with less.

Just one victim?

I'd have said it's a crime of passion.

Lover does a runner, MO points to it being sexually motivated.

But this one, too?

And the lamp-post?

And the message.

Number two, the strange case.

Implies there's a previous victim.

Important thing's to keep an open mind.

You have to be able to see the beast.

They very rarely advertise themselves as such.

Do you ever feel like we're being watched?

All the time, DI Drummond.

Come on. Doctor's waiting.

I usually cover one of the other surgeries.

His regular receptionist had to take to her bed with the grief.

His son Scott's in there just now.

Thank you.

Scott Durie, DI Lennox, DI Drummond.

Sorry for your loss.

Thank you.

Are you looking for something?

Erm, just collecting his things.

This was him.

A life lived here, caring for his people.

Any idea who might've done this?

Isn't that your job?

Any feuds? Enemies?

My father bled compassion, Inspector. Have some respect.

And yet he was brutally murdered and displayed.

What was that? A warning?

Can you think of anyone who might've wanted to harm him?

He was loved.

He gave his all for these people.

It's not the first time a public servant's been brutally cut down.

And hanged for all to see.

What'd he do in his spare time?

My father cared.

No more...

..and no less than that.

We'll need a statement. Let us know if anything strikes you.

He's clearly highly thought of.

I'm struggling to find a connection, Ray.

His body was hung to send a message that Durie is not what he seems.

Get Gill poring over that family, look in the shadows.

Families are always fucked up. Everybody's got something to hide.

Let's find the monster within.

He spent his whole life here.

That's not a man who's out for himself.

Maybe he'd made a mistake.

Got too emotionally involved.

That's him.

All right. Thank you, good people, thank you, thank you.

You, er... You manufacture quite the stir everywhere you go.

Not many people here believe you deserve this platform

and not many institutions would give it to you.

No, but that's down to the media, of course.

I, on the other hand, am a great believer in knowing your enemy.

Democracy should be consensual,

not confrontational.

My politics are inclusive.

I leave nobody out.

Vagrants, rent boys, freaks of nature and science.

BOOING Fuck's he talking about?

I've had encounters with every one of you,

so no-one can accuse me of being revolted by the masses.

So, you're saying that you're a man of the people

because you shag anyone and everyone?

If society is driven by craven, venal urges, and that's all we are,

democracy is about education and opportunities.

Professor Fairchild, that is a lovely notion,

but opportunities do exist for all of us.

What you need to understand is that there's only a few of us

who have the gumption to go after them.

I went after my opportunity, Mr Gulliver.

Seized the gift of living twice.

Two lives, can you imagine that?

In your paltry pursuit of a tired ejaculation?

I know how you feel, I know how she feels.

I've looked deep inside myself

in order to make myself the best version I can possibly be.

I'm not sure about this. We should boost.

A wee peeve off duty?

What could be more innocent?

After all, it's not like any crime was committed here, eh?

Besides, it's your case, and fucking Drummond.

Brian.

Officer Stark.

Need a wee bit of help.

About this toff that almost had his balls cut off.

I don't know anything about that. Your fucking hole.

I'll lose my job if I talk.

You will lose it if the manager here knows that you did time

for the Mark and Samantha Ronson.

When do you finish? Twenty minutes, but I...

Meet us in the pub around the corner.

Be there.

Are you a fascist?

Of course I'm not.

I stand as the messenger for those people left behind.

Those our social engineering has conveniently put aside.

The real people of this country.

Really?

You do nothing for such people except feed their basest prejudices.

I put the people who built this country first.

You're just a mouthpiece for their fears.

Don't you believe that everyone should have the right to vote?

And everyone should be educated to use that vote responsibly?

I believe there are certain people that you cannot level up.

They're the lazy, inadequate, workshy welfare rats,

the sponging interlopers from shit-hole countries.

Do you know why we still have a class system in our country?

Because it works!

Fucking Nazi!

No platform for fascists! Nazi!

Ha-ha, go on, bring it... bring it on.

Pig.

I believe in our blessed King, the Last Night of the Proms,

Dame Judi Dench, the Battle of Britain, Winston Churchill

and Sir Trevor McDonald.

I'm no racist.

Mr Gulliver...

Get the fuck out of here!

Look,

his name is, er, Piggot-Wilkins.

He's got some serious clout.

Must be royalty or some secret service guy.

He's a perv of the highest order.

Brought hookers back to the hotel

and when he got done, his mob came in and cleaned up.

Told us silence or else.

That was good, pal. Not so hard, is it,

when you get the old vocal cords loosened with a Christopher Reeve.

Ray?

Tracking Gayle's movements has given us a few sightings of her

on cameras in the city centre in the last few days.

So Gayle's not missing, she's just keeping a low profile?

Looks that way. Thanks, Gill. Keep tracking her.

Er, that's not all.

There's a woman in reception kicking up a shindy.

I think it's your sister.

'I've been thinking of everywhere Gayle could be

'and not many left spring to mind.'

Can you give us a list of the remaining places?

'No. I'm coming with you.

'I was a cop, remember how these things go down.'

I think you'll find I do know criminal law

as I practise it every day. 'It'll be tonight.'

When?

'Streetwalkers tend not to do much business during the day.'

Pick me up at ten?

Ah.

One moment, madam. Please wait here.

What's going on out there?

Her son was lifted at the uni demo.

She's giving it the big one about being a lawyer.

Nae wonder her boy's in the nick. She's a fucking barm.

She's my sister.

Oh, fuck, sorry, Ray.

Don't be. She is a fucking barm.

I'll get the wee man and his mate out.

He flung paint at Gulliver,

but he's not pressing charges.

He should still get done for vandalism,

but I'll get it dropped. Appreciate it.

Ray, thank God!

How can you work in this den of fascists?!

Dinnae you start.

Fraser and his mate are getting out.

Yes, my colleague Moira - she's Richard Gulliver's sister -

made a call to get him to drop the charges.

Well, they're still getting done for vandalism,

but I've got us to drop it.

Maybe have a word with Fraser, eh?

He never listens to anything I say.

He shows nothing but overt resentment towards me.

What does, er... What does Angus have to say?

The usual dumb, trivial, spineless things he's always said. Useless.

Can you talk to Fraser?

You two were close.

You used to take him to the football.

Er...

Gill, anything of note on the Duries?

Well, he's not such a man of the people, our Dr Durie.

Privileged background, privately educated at Gordonstoun,

but the community loved him.

They're having a get-together. Brilliant.

We'll get someone there.

I need to get away.

My flatmates are doing my head in.

Do you like camping?

Yeah. Yeah, yes.

What are you up to tonight?

Something not involving booze.

I'm gonna shoot for a dry month.

Bummer.

I'm desperate to get totally pished.

Celeste's away in Inverness at her mum's for a few days.

That still going OK?

Oh, yeah, it's great,

and these uniformed cops know how to have a good time.

OK. I don't need to know much more about that, thanks (!)

Amanda? Yeah?

This just came in.

"Tyranny's intonations change, but the voice remains the same.

"You never have to seek out damaged men of power."

"They come to you, driven in their vainglorious way,

"to tell their stories.

"To self exonerate. To connect. This is how they will be destroyed.

"Piggot-Wilkins survived. But we put down a marker.

"I thought you'd like the heads-up, Inspector Lennox.

"We're about to get to know each other very well.

"You'll find me where you least expect me."

What the fuck?!

I've got a name for you, DI Lennox.

What?

DI Lennox.

No. Christopher Piggot-Wilkins.

Fuck me, that's some slip of the scalpel.

I've got a name for you, too.

Irritating fucking prick.

How do we ignore this, boss?

The fucking toffs can't keep it under wraps.

We've got a killer taunting us!

Don't know that.

Bloke's not even dead. Durie is, boss, number two.

Piggot-Wilkins has to talk.

Steady on, my boy. What have we got from Gerry's mate Gayle?

Lauren... boss.

Thank you, Inspector Drummond. So, what have we got from him?

Them? Her... sir.

Yes, exactly.

Gill found Gayle on CCTV.

She's not missing, she's running.

And we need to find out if it's because she's scared or guilty.

And she might be able to shed some light on Piggot-Wilkins.

Lauren thinks she's got a lead, we're chasing up this evening.

Lauren?

Was Gerry, now Lauren, boss.

I've no fucking place in this world any more.

Everything I do and say is wrong.

And now this.

I can't ignore it

and I can't action that.

My fucking goose is cooked.

I knew you'd...

I knew you'd do it one day, though. Thank you, Bob.

Leave me now.

I need time.

Interesting night for you, El Mundo.

Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present in the car.

Aye, well, it's the one yet to come that bothers me.

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

I'd read her as mixed-up, but not dangerous.

You can never know that, not for certain.

I might've changed a bit, but I'll never lose my nose.

Twenty years of polis, always a polis, huh?

Aye.

Pull over here.

So, um, how is my boy to work with, Inspector Drummond?

He's a man.

He's better than most, but he's still a man.

That's not true.

He's what I made him.

When I got him, he was a chicken without a head,

led by his massive balls.

Look at him now!

Empathy, original thinker, courage, heart,

all bound right behind that pretty face...

..made by the woman I became.

He'll tell you, too.

Gayle's not your suspect.

That right, Ray?

We think it's important to keep an open mind.

Well, this is a mixed bag.

Could be an interesting night. Have you seen this person?

She's known to frequent these areas.

Ah, no. She's not done anything wrong.

Grassing-up's so not me, honey.

Especially when I catch the whiff of bacon on youse.

Thought you'd got rid of that stink.

I was wrong. My bad.

Wait!

I get your cynicism,

but I think our girl could be in trouble.

And what are this lot gonna do about it?

Fucking polis,

with such a proud record of defending sex workers' rights?

Get fucked, honey.

You know me, Tilly.

And...

And I trust these two.

Try Degsy's.

Don't mention my name.

Appreciated.

We have a lead, El Mundo.

Yes, indeed, we have a lead.

We have a lead, such is our creed, but let us not succumb to greed!

But obviously we must take care, unless the power we choose to cede.

I'll go in. No, you're not a cop.

Well, they won't let you in.

That's right, we should head back... They'll let me in.

It's Degsy's. Been here afore.

Ray.

If this is polis business,

you can get tae fuck unless you have a warrant.

If it's personal business...

..come and join us.

Personal.

Enter.

Make yourself comfortable, bro.

This pipe is the Tesla of crack cocaine.

Removes all that belching, impure, diesel-tasting smoke.

Smooth.

Smooth.

Yo, Degsy?

Ah, it's good shit. Aye.

Right. Uh-huh.

Do you fancy a cuppa?

Yeah, go on, then.

How nice to have you back, Ray.

When did you find your sea legs again?

Argh!

Ronnie.

Ray.

No. Fuck's sake! I thought everything was solid.

Dinnae look at us like that, Ray, mate.

You've got nae idea how bad it's been. Ray...

Come on. No, no.

No! Come on.

Dinnae help me up, no!

Gayle? Gayle!

No, no, dinnae leave me.

Ah, OK, OK, OK, fuck!

You've gotta get me home. Fuck's sake. Gayle!

Gayle! Wait!

Fuck you!

It's the blind leading the blind.

Hey! Dinnae make strangers of yourselves.

Idiot!

I know you're down here, Gayle.

Come out.

We can help you.

Gayle?

It's OK.

It's OK.

Jesus Christ.

Where's your keys?

Your keys.

In the car.

Oh, fuck! In.

Yeah?

We've got the suspect. Where are you?

Take the car. I've gotta get someone home.

'Who is it, Ray?' It's my fucking sponsor.

How am I supposed to stay sober

when my fucking sponsor's in a fucking crackhouse?!

You fucker! I'm sorry, Ray, mate.

Come on. Yeah.

Ohh, come on.

Come on, you stupid fucking thing!

Oh, fuck.

Yes, you fucking did. I love you!

Dinnae fucking deny it!

Oh, have a chip, have a chip. Fuck your chips.

I saw you! Dinnae fucking deny it.

Go in the house...

Pick on some radge your own size.

What the fuck you doing?!

Aye, you're welcome, doll.

What you done, you ignorant radge?!

Better than a wank any day.

She went and turned the bairns against us,

before she took me to the cleaners.

But fuck her!

And fuck the fire brigade.

I was... I didnae want to tell you, Ray, mate.

You were doing so well.

But these new crack pipes, they're so smooth.

They filter all the bad stuff out.

It's better for you than the foil, aye.

Here you are.

I cannae go inside, Ray, mate.

I cannae let them see me like this!

Well, kip in the fucking car until you come doon.

No, no, no, no! Fuck's sake.

Ray, mate. Ray!

Drew Busby, a weegie,

and one of the last to play for the now defunct Third Lanark.

Signed from Airdrie as a striker,

had a prolific partnership with Drew Jarvie,

converted to midfield at Hearts.

A fan favourite, still managed 55 goals from 178 appearances.

'Drew Busby, a weegie,

'and one of the last to play for the now defunct Third Lanark.

'Had a prolific partnership there with Drew Jarvie...'

Sorry.

Ray? Do we have an appointment?

Er, no.

No, we don't, but I thought...

I wanted to inhale that pipe. I wanted it so badly.

I see.

Seeing Ronnie in that place,

I started to, I started to feel like I was losing my grip.

You felt weak, useless, like the addict in you was back in control.

Yeah, but I didn't succumb, and I think that's important.

Would you like me to tell you the fact you didn't smoke the pipe

is more significant than the fact you were tempted to?

Well, I'm hoping it means something.

I mean, there's times when I'd have done it.

So, what stopped you?

I need certainties in life, fixed point, you know?

Er, I thought the relationship with Trudi would do that, but...

..only the job can.

So, the job keeps you drug-free

until it reaches a certain level of stress.

Then it enables, with a vengeance.

I think that's it, yeah.

But you're only a cop because you want to solve the disturbing cases.

The ones that, ultimately, bring you to your knees.

Maybe.

DI Drummond?

Yes.

Helena Cairns, All Fur Coat podcast.

I wanna speak to a female detective at the coalface of policing.

Not a chance.

But I do like your podcast.

I watch it every week, as soon as it uploads.

Well, here's my card.

If you change your mind.

We know about Piggot-Wilkins.

Your lover, the one who made you sign an NDA.

Did you attack Christopher Piggot-Wilkins

at the Landsburgh Hotel?

What?! No.

Didn't he pay you enough?

What happened to him? Is he OK?

Piggot-Wilkins was brutally assaulted in his hotel room.

He was left for dead.

Did you want Piggot-Wilkins dead?

You were warned to keep away, never to speak of him again.

That must've felt like a slap in the face?

No.

I cared about him. It might've been love. Who knows?

But it was always going to end.

You loved him?

Men like that don't walk around with women like me on their arms.

But he made me happy.

Like me, he knew pain.

His posh school was a factory of abuse.

How do you know William Durie?

I don't know who you're talking about.

Why did you run, Gayle?

What else could I do?

It was heavy as fuck.

If it wasnae you, who do you think assaulted Piggot-Wilkins?

I don't know.

They must've got to him as well.

Same as they did Lauren.

You think it was the same people who warned you off?

Why would they do that?

I don't know.

She's telling the truth, Bob.

Now, I've been out of the force a long time,

but this place hasn't changed a bit.

It's bloody unrecognisable, Gerry, I can't keep up.

Sorry.

Lauren. Of course.

It's OK. Ah...

It's not OK.

This job is about right and wrong.

I used to know the difference.

But now I can't open my mouth without saying the wrong thing.

You're... You're learning.

Society's lost the art of patience.

Revolutions are an education, Bob.

I haven't got the energy.

Every day, I walk the tightrope of being cancelled.

I don't even know how to talk to you.

You can say anything to me!

We've known each other 30 years!

Well, I knew Gerry.

I'm probably saying all the wrong things.

But Lauren and Gerry are not the same person.

You might like Lauren.

You should take a lady out for a pint one night.

Well, I should warn you, it'd be strictly platonic.

I know you!

Do you remember the other Piggot-Wilkins?

Ooh, I do.

Found hanging from his staircase.

All kept fairly quiet in the press.

Like father, like son.

I mean, unless she's a top-class actress,

there's no way Gayle's our killer.

I've checked in with Scott Durie.

The name Piggot-Wilkins means nothing to him.

Ray? Look.

Look at Durie's obituary.

"The good doctor might not be so good.

"Couldn't flush away the number one.

"But managed to do it with the number two."

Taking responsibility for Durie, too.

It's out there for anyone to see.

Why? Why is the killer doing this?

'Eh-up, Lennox.

'Long time, no see.

'Still failing to catch somebody, I believe?

'You lack an imagination, Raymond Lennox, that's your problem.

'You never did find me. I had to come to you.

'And once again, you're looking in all the wrong places.

'Something's going badly wrong in your office...

'..and I'll tell you why,

'if you come and pay me a visit.'

Detective Inspector Raymond Lennox.

You look well.

I didn't think you had it in you.

You still seeing that lady of yours?

What was her name again?

What did you mean, on the phone?

Trudi.

Of course.

Oh, I get the impression she's flown the nest, Ray Lennox.

Fucking bastard!

This isn't a film! You killed those kids, fucking paedophile!

Fucking bastard!

What do you want?

I'm also getting the impression

there is no lover on the scene right now.

Would I be right?

Tell me what the fuck this is about.

You need to open your eyes.

There's been a leak about me. I'm very disappointed in you, Lennox.

I got these, sent through prison mail.

Someone wants to tell your story?

Knows a lot about you.

And you too.

You've been talking to someone.

Or...

..is there a leaky vessel in your station?

He wants a claim for what I did.

As I said before, I'm not letting just any fucker tell my story.

History's only told by t'victors.

Find the bastard, Lennox, do your job.

Why would I give a fuck...

Why would I give a fuck about who wants to tell your fucking story?

Perhaps I am offering you some very sweet inducements

to ensure my story remains my own.

You're a man of the people...

..especially the missing ones.

Cannae find owt on this Dr Strange, this Durie fella.

The boy is Mother Teresa wi' a cock.

Ah, you'll like this.

Not a lot, but...

So, in the interests of accountability,

I'm going to doorstep some former clients.

And next month is a police special.

Police special?

Fucking hell.

Where's Ray?

He's just dealing with some personal business.

Right, everyone, if I can have your attention.

It's been 42 long and weary years

since I decided to dedicate my life

to the policing of this magnificent cesspit.

I thought I might make a difference,

but I'm far too worn in the baws to really believe in all that.

The job has marked me more than I've marked it

and sometimes you have to hear the full-time whistle

and stop running around.

I'm due a lot of leave,

so this will take effect...

..almost immediately, week after next.

Anyone interested in my job...

..please apply now as they are hastily organising interviews.

I want to see some of you putting your names forward.

The future of the policing of this department

lies within the department.

Notice Lennox isnae here?

He's probably on the golf course right now

with the fucking Chief Constable.

It's a fit-up job if ever I saw one.

There's a well in Perthshire, near Killiecrankie,

between two industrial sites on some rough moorland.

Do you know it, Lennox?

Once a beautiful site, now somewhat sullied.

You know what you'll find.

And maybe two birds with one stone, so to speak.

Sandy Gilbert, Scene Evidence Recovery Manager.

The well's been emptied and dried out for decades.

We plan to... Where's my rig?

No, this is a specialist...

I'm the ranking officer on this case, I've been on it for 15 years.

I am going down. I can't advise that.

I've done full abseiling training with retrieval teams.

You're going into a narrow hole in total darkness.

We don't know the integrity of the well.

It's possible this has been compromised

and could subside at any...

I've reason to believe that, in addition to at least two bodies,

there's crucial evidence pertinent to ongoing cases

at the bottom of that well. I am going down, end of discussion.

Get me my fucking rig.

Boss?

Amanda, this stuff with Stark has got to stop,

for both your good.

Tell him!

He's a sexist creep, and he's angry about my promotion.

Just keep your head down.

The old ways are over. You're the rising star here.

I...

I want to get there on merit, boss.

But...

Who ever got anywhere on merit, Amanda?!

I certainly didn't.

I spent my life mouthing dumb platitudes at the Masonic club,

the golf club, hospitality suite at Tynecastle, for years!

But you just...

Look at Boris Johnson, Cameron.

A shit journalist, and a public relations office boy.

Do you think they ever got anywhere on merit?

They went to fucking Eton, Amanda!

But that's them. I want to be secure in the knowledge that I...

Secure? You want security?

In a police job, in a world that is falling apart?

Wise up, Amanda.

I'll give you some advice.

Put your name in the hat for my job.

And where is Ray?

No, don't even try to tell me.

'This radio signal will probably cut out when you get past 30 feet

'and it's around 50 to the bottom.'

Don't send anyone else down. The walls... The walls are crumbling.

'I'm getting you out of there, Lennox. We're winding you in.'

No, that's a fucking order. If you start to pull me up,

I'll remove these fucking harness clips and I'll jump down.

'On your own head, Lennox.

'Fucking Serious Crimes cowboys are gonna cost me my fucking job.'

Francesca Allen, 14, Selly Oak, Birmingham.

Madeleine Parry, 17, Pontefract, Yorkshire.

Alison Sturbridge, 15, Preston.

Juliet Rowe, 12, Luton. Fiona Martin, 14...

..Sheffield, Angela Harrison, 15, Wolverhampton,

Hazel Lloyd, 14, Portobello, Edinburgh.

Valentina Rossi, 14, Dunfermline.

Karleen Holmes, 16, Finchley, north London.

It's not OK. It's not OK.

Fuck!

Oh...

For fuck's sake.

Hazel.

Hazel Lloyd.

For fuck's sake!

I'm so sorry.

I'm so, so sorry.

You poor wee soul.

You poor wee soul.

Ah, you.

Who are you?

Oh, my God.

Get me up!

A "thank you" would be nice.

Boss? 'You heard?

'About me jacking it in?' What?

'I must be crazy,

'because I don't even know where the fuck you've been,

'but I want you to apply for my job.'

Seriously? Like, I mean, I...

'You're a good candidate.

'And Tommy Stark's already applied.'

Good for him.

'Stark's a manipulative, racist, misogynistic, misanthropic alcoholic

'with a short fuse.'

So, a strong candidate?

I fucking knew I was being followed.

I told you I would fucking kill you if you pulled this shit again.

We're OVER!

I need you to meet me tomorrow.

Car park near the castle, eight thirty.

You have to be joking.

It's about the sex tape, Amanda.

You've got more baws than most guys coming here on your own.

A diseased shit-pit.

It's just temporary, likes.

Everything is temporary.

The question is how temporary is this temporary?

Just till I get organised.

What do you want?

What Dougie Gillman was feart of.

I want you on my show.

Fair enough.

All the other people that get to tell their stories,

all that criminal scum with their true crime.

How about me?

Where's the likes of Tommy Stark's 15 minutes of fame?

Glad to have you on board.

Now, I have to love you...

Metaphorically speaking.

..and leave you, physically speaking.

The most dreaded things are not the physical dangers,

but the mental perils we find ourselves in.

Our worst nightmares lie within us, dormant.

Our successes flourish, then fade.

Oh, Ray.

But our failures, oh, how they grow,

like tumours in our weary hearts.