Original subtitles

- There she is. - Dad!

So, how's she cuttin', darling?

Pure shittily at the moment.

I wouldn't blame ya...

...for going back home, forgettin' all about me.

Forget you?

30 years...

I haven't been able to forget you.

Even when I wanted to.

I couldn't.

And I never give up.

That's my girl.

But I don't know what to do next.

What you see isn't necessarily what's real.

I wish this was real.

Ah, but it is.

Would you like me to prove it?

Yes.

Hi!

Yes! Two bars.

It's so fucking beautiful here.

It's the most gorgeous place on earth.

And there's all this dark shit happening right underneath.

Fiona, let's get you home.

I've been reading some of Una's Irish mythology books.

They're basically horror stories.

Screaming women announcing deaths.

Blood suckers.

Three-headed monsters laying the country to waste.

And while us naive Americans,

we think leprechauns are these little cute

cartoon characters on cereal boxes.

But they will literally murder anyone

who gets near their pot of gold.

Yeah.

I mean, what the hell is wrong with this place?

Why didn't you stay in England?

Well, some people

go all the way west in America to find their fortune.

I only had to pop over to Ireland.

I opened my gym. Got my life in order.

And now... it's home.

Thank you.

♪ I know ♪

♪ Will I always be looking for you? ♪

♪ Oh ♪

I'm gonna find this scum bastard--

And do what, Finn?

I mean, he's threatened to kill Fiona.

And he might come back and finish the job with you

and then I'd have two dead sons!

Declan never should have involved you in this!

But he did.

Have you any idea who it was?

It was the same guy that attacked me in my hotel room.

Well, we'll call the Gardaí, get them to pull some mugshots--

But it was in the middle of the night,

and he was wearing a balaclava.

Then how do you know it was the same man?

He had a very distinctive scar

on his right hand like he'd been burned.

Enough is enough.

Una?

It's alright.

Una?

Una, what are you doing?

My brother was an asshole!

Putting you in danger with that bloody briefcase.

You need to get rid of it, where is it?

It's not here. It's somewhere safe.

What are you doing?

This isn't some game, Fiona!

It's not some come to Ireland

and solve a mystery bloody paperback!

That man could've killed you!

I know.

Well, then please, Jesus, please will you stop...

...exposing yourself to this kind of danger?

And miss the chance--

The chance? What chance? The chance to what?

To-to die an early death?

Like Declan?

They stole him from me and from my mom!

From your mom!

What else could they do, really?

A lot more.

Then let them try.

My dearest Fiona,

I want you to know that I've watched your career from afar.

Google alerts are marvelous things.

The successful lawyer that you've become

is because you're a fighter.

And you have the special ability

to be able to see beyond the obvious.

That's your superpower.

Garda Doherty speaking.

Róisín, are you busy?

Patsy Burgess, small potatoes.

People doing the abducting, generally,

are not the ones calling the shots.

Close.

Patsy would be more likely to auction you off

to the highest bidder, than he would

to put a cattle bolt in your head.

No, we are looking for

our very own Marlo Stanfield.

Who's that?

Head of the Baltimore drug trade in The Wire.

You really love your TV.

Dad...

...which of these things screams,

choose me and I'll lead you to Wicklow's nastiest crime lord?

Well, nastiest, there's a couple.

We have the... Scarrows.

The Cartys...

...and the McIntyres.

McIntyre. That sounds familiar.

Yeah, well, every Irish name sounds familiar,

especially the ones that begin with Mc, or O.

Why is there is a boxing glove in this briefcase?

Well, ya ever seen a boxing glove with holes in it?

No! It's for MMA.

Mixed Martial Arts.

I know what MMA is...

Well, you didn't know what boxing gloves are--

I know what boxing gloves are.

Oh, there's this in here.

Woah. What's this?

Jesus, it's hard as a rock.

Plaster of Paris will do that.

Are there any unsanctioned MMA fights here in Wicklow?

There are, and...

Holy hell, Caoimhin McIntyre.

Of course! He-

An MMA fighter, from the wrong side of Wicklow harbor.

He sanctions a heap of them.

The McIntyres, they have their fingers in everything,

not just illegal gambling.

They are...

...real bad characters.

Okay? So can you get me the address of this

Cow-i-minh...

McIntyre?

- Caoimhin. - Quee-vee.

Caoimhin! Jesus!

Was last night not enough of an adrenaline rush for ya?

What do you wanna do?

Walk up to his house, ring his bell,

say, "Hey, wouldn't happen to know anything

about the murder of my dad, would you?"

How do I get face-time with him then?

That does depend, actually.

How good are you at poker?

King of Spades.

Now the last card is...

...the King of Spades.

Do you call or raise?

I raise 10.

And I fold.

What? Why?

Why?

Because you, young lady... have no poker face.

- But I have a great hand. - Indeed.

But here's the thing, Fiona.

You know the rules of the game.

Now you need to learn the unwritten rules.

Numero uno

is read the other players.

I read ya like a book.

So I folded.

Well, that's not fair.

The sooner you learn that it's not what people say or do,

but what they're hiding...

...you'll be unstoppable.

Is the Gráinne Mhaol on Lonely Planet's Best of Ireland list?

What are you doing here?

I am here, madame, to play poker.

I picture you at a casino,

wearing a white tuxedo jacket,

sipping a martini.

James O'Bond?

No. Far too many pesky rules and regulations

when it comes to legal gambling in this country.

And you?

Oh, I'm here to play poker.

Oh, really? Hmm.

How do ya handle a bad beat?

I'm out.

I'll bet 10.

I see your 10. I raise 10 more.

Hmm, have a good hand there?

Wouldn't be betting on it now if I wasn't, would I?

So, remember...

...keep your cards close.

But your face even closer.

So, Cow-mhin--

- Caoimhin. - Right.

I hear you're a pretty talented fighter.

Yeah, who'd you hear that from?

Declan Murphy.

Happy as Larry, that Declan was.

Never struck me as the suicidal type, you know?

What do you think happened to him?

The man was out of control.

Gambled on everything.

Dumb bastard probably lost one game too many

so he went and cashed in all his chips.

Well, I'd love to see you in action in the ring some time.

- Cage. - Right.

And if I were to bet on you, you're a sure thing, right?

- Haven't lost a fight in years. - That's incredible.

You must really be the real deal.

Meaning what?

Well, nobody goes undefeated

without a little help if you know what I mean.

You implying that I cheat?

No one throws matches for me.

Ever.

Got it?

I stand corrected.

And... I'm all in.

I may be rich, but I'm not stupid.

And that's how it's done--

Show us your cards, love.

Why? It's not a rule.

Show them.

Alright.

Complete hustle, that was.

You scratch your nose.

Your left eye twitches and you have no poker face whatsoever.

And you, Caoimhin--

I what?

Your pecs flex when you're lying.

I think you best run along

to the next stop on your Irish tour.

Thank you.

This was fun.

Go get a round in, will you?

Need to phone Johnny.

Yeah, give him a call.

Hey, Johnny.

Yeah, something dodgy's after going down at the Gráinne Mhaol.

You are lucky you're still in one piece.

But you're gonna need to be able to protect yourself.

- Honestly, I'm fine. - You weren't this morning.

It's just your typical bog rendezvous

with a psycho wielding a bolt gun.

All part of life's majestic pageant.

Okay, focus. Show me what you got.

Okay.

Come on.

Nah! Go on.

Got you.

Now if someone attacked you from behind...

- Mm-hmm. - Don't panic...

- Okay. - Stay calm, alright?

What I want you to do is grab them by the arm.

There you go.

Have you ever done any MMA fighting?

A few guys tried to recruit me from the gym,

but boxing's more my thing.

Mm-hmm.

- From here... - Mm-hmm.

You need to elbow me in the groin.

- Okay. - Go for it.

There you go.

And now my follow up, twist my arm.

- Okay... - There you go.

And then press down... right on my shoulder.

I could break your arm.

Yeah, you could. You could, or...

I could do this.

Don't you think pepper spray would be more effective?

Sure. If it wasn't illegal.

Speaking of illegal,

Caoimhin McIntyre.

Yeah, not so loud.

His cousin, Johnny's a member here.

Hmm. Interesting. I played poker with him today.

And-- - Um, Fiona...

the McIntyres are not the kind of guys

you wanna play go fish with.

Let alone poker.

And when I implied he might cheat at MMA--

- Jesus. It gets worse. - He insisted he didn't.

Musa. His pecs didn't flex.

- Huh? - That's his tell.

They didn't flex because he was telling the truth.

I wanna show you something that I found in Declan's briefcase.

Hmm.

Are these Caoimhin's?

I don't think so.

- There's something in them. - Plaster.

Hmm. Hit someone hard enough with these

you might injure them, badly.

Maybe even kill them.

Mm-hmm.

Do you have any idea who they might belong to?

This gym's been closed down since the 90s.

Ah, so definitely not Caoimhin.

Mm-hmm. Not unless he was doing cage matches

in his Junior Cycle.

Hey there!

Can you run a search for MMA fights in Wicklow

going back to the 90s?

Find any matches that led to a fatality.

Okay, give me a second to work my magic...

Okay, now Fiona, I respect your resolve, I really do,

but when I think of Ireland,

I think of hitting the Guinness factory,

not scary bogs and deadly MMA matches.

Well, you're lucky

that I'm not going to a leprechaun museum.

Thank god for small miracles.

I went to the cottage.

Ooh, and?

I hate that I love it.

Okay, well, you wouldn't be complaining to a Gen Z

about a free house in Ireland now, would you?

It's just that I keep expecting

the other shoe to drop.

Like they'll be termites or...

some ancient Celtic curse on the land.

Okay, well, I will gladly take both

the termites and the curse...

and I think I just found something from 1995.

- Okay. - Sending it to you... Now.

Uhh, got it. Umm...

Wicklow man dies in MMA knock-out.

Tragedy struck an unofficial MMA match

in the third round last night

at a warehouse outside of town limits when Benji Donovan...

24, Benji Donovan. Siobhan's brother.

Okay, just found an obituary...

Benji Donovan. Okay.

Benji Donovan, son of Bran and Doreena Donovan

of Wicklow...

That's him.

Poor family.

Did anyone get charged?

Um... just a sec, sending it to you now.

Okay. Uhh...

Johnny McIntyre...

I take it you know him.

I recognize the name.

Beannacht Ben. - The horse?

Yes! Hold on! Um...

Jonny McIntyre of Wicklow

found the horse and alerted authorities.

That McIntyre name keeps coming up.

Someone's blood is on those wraps.

So you're saying that Benji Donovan's death

wasn't accidental?

Yes.

That Johnny McIntyre murdered him?

Yes.

And these wraps in your dad's briefcase,

came with what?

A note explaining their significance?

Well, no, they--

So there's no actual proof then.

No, but this is a clue.

That's old blood. Probably Johnny's.

Run DNA on these gloves for both of men.

And then anything we find,

we can run a familial DNA test against Siobhan Donovan,

or her parents.

And Johnny McIntyre?

He's just going to...

open wide and let me swab his right cheek, is he?

Don't you think we've tried to take down the McIntyres?

But no, you're gonna stroll in here

with your gung-ho Yank know-how

and show us all how it's really done. Hmm?

Sir, I would be happy to lead--

And I'd be happy to hop in a jacuzzi with Halle Berry.

That's not my future either, is it?

McAvoy!

Whenever you're ready.

Okay.

Claude can't see past the end of his nose.

It's not the first time a cop's let me down.

We're on to Plan B.

Who does Claude think he is? Kojack?

Good man. There you go.

Nice one, man. Good. You want me to what?

Let me break into Johnny McIntyre's locker.

I'll be in and out.

Isn't this all a bit of a stretch?

It might be. But what if it's not?

What if a DNA match on those old wraps could put away a murderer?

Someone who also might have killed Declan?

Alright, well...

...his locker's the one with quite a graphic

anatomical masterpiece.

- Thank you. - Yes, well...

Charming.

Hey, come on Pete, get in here.

I know you have something to add.

- Johnny! - Musa.

Sight for sore eyes.

Even more charming...

What's going on, Musa?

You're here for a workout? I'm free if you'd like to spar.

Always ready to give a... you know, a helping hand

to my most loyal customers.

You know, that'll keep you coming back.

You alright?

Yeah man.

Why you acting so daft?

Am I? D'you know what?

It's been a long day.

Oh,

I know I've been harping onto you about this,

but tomorrow is our private MMA bout.

And if you wanna go up against Caoimhin...

...it'd make for a proper scrap for once.

D'you know, I like where my nose is on my face.

Anyway, look, either way, win or lose,

there's money in it for you.

I'm good.

How many members did you lose

to that posh gym up the road this week?

Seven...

Well, look, if I can sort you out with a loan...

No, I'm okay.

Thank you.

- I'm good. I'm good, Johnny! - I see.

I'm good. Johnny. Johnny!

Johnny, boy!

What Musa? What?

Hello?

How'd this get out of my locker?

I was just, um...

...looking for my dad's locker.

Who's your dad then?

I know most of the members here,

so maybe I can... I can help you out.

Thank you.

Um, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine finding it on my own.

Yeah. You look like a resourceful woman.

I should leave you to change

because this is the men's after all.

Well, gender's merely a construct these days. Isn't it?

I like your towel.

Yeah, it's me.

That Yank won't leave well enough alone.

Scaring her isn't gonna cut it.

So when are you gonna let me do things my way?

Every year, close to 200 Irish people

die in traffic collisions.

Logging in these reports online will help make our roads safer.

Understood.

No job too small.

Stand up. Grab the ball.

I beg your pardon, what?

Little saying I came up with.

When opportunity arises,

you need to grab those balls.

Even the little tiny ones.

Grab those balls

and bounce your way to the peak of excellence.

I bet Olivia Benson didn't have to grab any feckin' balls.

You do know why Sergeant Claude

is gunning for you, right?

Because I had the audacity to be born?

It's all thanks to that Yank woman.

Fiona?

She's onto something.

Our boss disagrees. Why do you care so much?

I've seen what happens when bad people get away with shit.

When they have power.

Oh, well, unless you fancy spending the rest of your days

filling out traffic reports...

...you best start looking out for yourself.

I had his mouthguard right in my hand.

I could try and get you something else from Johnny.

Oh, thank you. No, you've done enough.

And if he's as dangerous as everyone says,

I don't want you putting yourself at risk.

Thank you, for yesterday and for just now.

Of course.

And if you need any help, just let me know.

I mean it.

I'll do anything for...

...Declan.

I'll keep that in mind.

Thank you.

When it comes to fighting,

strategy rules the day.

Like David and Goliath,

David strolls in, packing just a sling and stone.

Looks like he's a dead man against monstrous Goliath.

Fiona, get up.

And do what?

Maybe everyone's right.

I should let the Gardaí figure it out.

But I put my faith in you.

Why?

Because you can do this.

You're smart. You're resourceful.

Come on. Up.

You know, Goliath was a cocky shit.

Totally underestimated the peace-loving shepherd.

Underestimate me at your own peril.

Like I said, resourceful.

For a while, it looked like Goliath was right.

No way the behemoth would fall.

And suddenly, David's stone comes flying.

Straight at Goliath's weak spot.

Find that weak spot, Fiona.

Hello, you.

Hey, Musa. I could really use your help.

You want me to get into the cage with Caoimhin McIntyre?

Tonight?

He's Johnny's cousin, so if we could get a DNA sample,

we could match it to Johnny.

Forget it.

It's too much and I can find another way.

No, no.

Of course.

I'm happy to help.

Really?

I'm there.

Thank you.

You are the best, Musa.

Oh.

Oh, I'm so sorry!

- I'm so sorry. - I'm so sorry.

I...

I just wasn't expecting that.

It's just a surprise.

Yup.

Anyways... um, I'll see you tonight?

Aye aye!

Aye aye?

What are you doing? What the fuck?

Oh, there you are.

Nice hat.

Thanks.

Last thing I need is Bossypants McGobshite

ratting me out for being at an illegal fight.

And that hat keeps your cover?

It's... It's a good hat.

- It's cute. - Thanks.

Hey, bitches.

Oh, okay, that's aggressive.

Fuck off.

I know why he's mad at me, but what did you do?

Probably arrested him, or maybe one of his friends.

Comes with the territory. - Okay.

I wish I hadn't asked Musa to do this.

You're finished!

I don't know why he didn't say no!

Musa... Musa.

For a sharp woman, you are bat blind sometimes.

He's in that cage for you, you know?

Oh, God. That makes it even worse.

First time MMA champion,

Musa Makinde!

Nothing wrong with a holiday hookup.

Musa doesn't feel like a hookup guy.

What does he feel like?

I don't know.

Maybe you are partial to the ol' hump and run, after all.

You have no sense of boundaries, do you?

Boundaries are for normies.

And with all due respect,

you are not normal.

Let's see what you've got, pretty boy. Come on!

Come on, Musa!

Round one, Caoimhin.

Oh shit. Stop, stop, stop. Round's over.

Musa...

I blame your dad. For your problems.

My problems run way deeper

than garden variety daddy issues.

You downplay the impact he had.

A parent abandoning a child leaves a scar.

But...

scars are like badges of honor.

They say fuck you. I survived.

Oh, my god...

Oh...

I thought you were a fighter.

Come on, up you get!

Oh, don't look at that.

Don't... you don't need to look at that bit.

No!

Musa!

Break it up! Break it up! Hey, hey, hey! Come on!

Round's over, back to your corner.

Round two, Caoimhin.

Musa...

Musa!

Oh, God.

Okay, is any of that blood Caoimhin's?

I don't think that man's sweating.

Musa.

You need to step out of the ring now. Call it. Call it!

Where's the fun in that?

You've lost your mind! Get out of there!

Fight!

Oh! Okay!

Yes!

Round three, Musa.

Yes.

Yes.

Thanks, mate.

Thank you so much.

I don't know how to repay you.

Dinner would be good.

Drinks, if you're feeling up to it.

I'd love that.

Where's Johnny McIntyre?

He went into the changing room about 20 minutes ago...

Fiona. - The DNA was a match.

Come on, lads. This way.

So that means...

Johnny McIntyre, you are the father.

Well, in this case, the cousin.

Bollocks!

Musa, you got a car handy? Help out an old mate. Yeah?

Have you got a car?

Go back to LA.

Hello. Who's your dad then?

Let's go. Come on.

It was you in my hotel room

and at the bog.

Did you kill my father too?

There he is. Stay right where you are.

Stop him!

Did you kill my father?

Johnny McIntyre, you are not obliged to say anything

unless you wish to do so.

I'd keep my name out of your mouth if I were you.

With pleasure.

You can't prove anything!

Load of bollocks.

Go, show's over. Go on. Go on, get back to work.

Benji was murdered.

Johnny McIntyre murdered my brother.

In cold blood.

I'm so sorry.

Dear god.

I'm sorry for digging this back up.

No. The truth is more important than anything.

Your father? Did Johnny... do you think he--

I don't have any proof.

Will you go back to America?

Eventually.

I mean, who else is gonna extract a second infinity pool

off of Mrs. Westmiller's ex-husband?

- You mean she only has one? - Mm-hmm.

How does the poor woman survive?

Barbaric, right?

And he's a cheating asshole with three DUI's, so...

Take him for all he's got.

Smug prick.

He looks good with an eye patch, though.

Musa's gonna be here any minute,

so I'm just gonna finish getting ready.

Go on. Go on.

You make yourself beautiful, I'll make myself scarce.

- Okay. - And remember...

Feel your feelings.

And go with the flow.

Or hump and run, if that's the vibe.

Thank you, Dr. Doherty.

Doherty.

Dah-her-tee.

Doherty? Doherty.

Alright.

- Oh, can you get that? - Sure.

Who are you?

I asked you first.

Is that Los Angeles behind you?

Yeah.

I always wanted to see a palm tree.

A real one.

Not like those little piddly ones they have over here.

I'm sorry, is this Fiona Fox's phone?

It is. She's currently getting ready for a smoking hot date

with a hotter than hot hottie

who is so much more than just hot.

And I facilitated that love connection!

Oh, she swipes Tinder with you, now?

Ah, yeah, she won't be needing Tinder

now that I've sorted her out.

I can pass something on.

Um, yes.

She was asking about someone named Johnny McIntyre

and I looked him up.

Ugh, well, we locked him up!

Happy to pass anything on though.

Why did I come in to work today?

Yeah, um, just let her know that Tess videoed or called her.

Whatever.

Will do. Bye, Tess.

It's open.

Do I have the wrong date?

No, you have precisely the right date.

Have fun, lovebirds.

- Hi. - Hi.

You like Chinese, right?

Yes. It's not the cuisine I'd associate with Ireland though.

You'd be surprised.

Nothing better than a man who knows his takeout.

You only love me for my spice bag.

Who would've thought something called a spice bag

would be so delicious?

And of course, you have to travel

all the way across the Atlantic to get them.

Well...

...I think that's a really good reason

to come back to Ireland.

My lip...

What? Oh, I'm sorry.

It's okay.

Where else does it hurt, so I can be more careful?

Here.

Here.

Where else?

And...

Here.

This one is it?

Say hello to the rest of your life Johnny McIntyre.

Wait a second, I know you.

You're Declan's brother, aren't you?

D'you know?

I'd hate for you to walk into thin air the same way he did--

I've got it from here.

Lock him up good and tight.

Aye, Finn. On you go on now.

Bastard.

Here. I have a message I want you to deliver.

Not exactly in a position

to be demanding things now are ya, Johnny?

No.

That's a lovely little terrace house

you and your wife and your two daughters,

Annie and Jenna, live in up in Glenview Road

near St. Mantan's Park...

Did I get that right?

Wanna tell me the position I'm in now, ya prick?

The message.

You tell the boss that I'm stuck here in a clink

and I'm hearing life in prison for murder

all because I followed his orders.

And if I'm to go down, I'm taking him down with me.

You got that? You wanna write it down?

I got it.

Good.

Also, you tell him,

either he sorts it out or I start blabbering.

And let me tell you something.

Once I get going, I won't stop until he loses everything.

And I mean everything.