All language subtitles for Dublin Murders - 1x04

What's a jury going to think when
they look at you?

Why should anyone love you
when you're lower than shit?

I was thinking, we should team up again.

I've got a partner.

You know things about me,
no-one else knows, not even Sam.

I think a lot of you. Like, a lot.

I have oyster sauce dripping down my
chin. What you should be thinking is

"Where's the escape route?"

Thank you for
calling the Garda line

in regard to our investigation
into the murder of Katy Devlin.

Do you know who I thought you were?

Someone sent by that plastic
gangster, Johnstone.

Are you still in touch with
Cathal Mills and Shane Waters?

- What?
- Help me? Please?

Sam?

- Get up, and get dressed.
- Cassie, don't.

- Are we OK?
- We're always OK, Cass.

Always.

* Hit me with your rhythm stick *

* Hit me slowly, hit me quick *

* Hit me! Hit me! Hit me! *

Mammy? Daddy?

Mammy? Daddy?

They're dead.

But you've got me, Cassie.
My name is Lexie.

OK, Maddox,
this pretty boy is the target.

Vincent Johnstone.

Runs narcotics, guns, people.

Launders money.

Busy boy and Grade-A shit.

You'll be an undergraduate at
Trinity, where a sizeable amount

of his product is bought. You deal a bit.

Incidents will be arranged
to make sure he notices you.

Work your way up the greasy pole
and into his confidence.

What do I get out of this?

You get job satisfaction.

I want to work Murder.

I do for you, you do for me.

- If I get the job right.
- If you stay alive.

All right, you've had time to prep

your undercover identity.
Who's she going to be?

Her name is Alexandra.

But she never calls herself that.

She calls herself Lexie.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

Taken from her pocket.

Her student card identifies
her as Alexandra Mangan.

The Garda out there says her
friends called her Lexie.

It's quite remarkable, really.

The similarity.

You don't have a twin?

No, it's just me.

Still. Open.

She's been dead for five or six hours.

I'll be more precise
when I've got her liver.

You can get shot of those
paramedics, they're no good to her.

Yeah.

But you're sure she's dead?

I mean, perhaps there's the faintest
pulse that anyone else would

miss, but you, a professional,
you wouldn't miss that.

- Is this a joke?
- The faintest sign of life?

Why would I pretend she's alive?

And how would you explain the, err,
being cold and stiff?

The fact that she is essentially,
a corpse? Hypothermia?

She goes into shock from blood loss,
the body shuts down, I don't know,

Cooper, you're the
expert, make something up.

Every single ethical

- and moral consideration, Mackay...
- That's one of my operatives.

- No, she is not!
- All right, an unknown woman

adopting the identity of one of my
operatives

and pretty much her
spitting image is murdered

with a single stab wound to
the heart, exactly the same wound

Maddox got, so shall
we assume they're connected?

Shall we assume there's a strong
chance that Johnstone's been issuing

orders from the burner phone shoved
up his arse and it's better for us

if this one here, this one,
is still clinging on?

Buys me some time and rattles
the cage of the beast, as it were.

Signs of life, Cooper. Get the
paramedics in here fast

- and I'll brace them up.
- You're doing the paperwork

- on this one, you hear me?
- Yeah.

Holy Mother of God
and all the saints, it's a miracle!

Now, take yourself off for a moment,

let's not confuse the nice medics, OK?

What sort of boyfriend are you, O'Neill?

Go with her, she looks shaky.

Yeah?

I'm in your flat.

Came to wake you up with coffee,
like you asked. Where are you?

Wicklow. A kill.

- Male or female?
- Female.

It's nothing to do with Katy Devlin.

It's... it's on the route for the
motorway, but it's a different MO.

Victim's older.

I think it's to do with Johnstone.
To do with me.

I think he's killed the wrong woman.

She's got my name, Rob.

Lexie's name, I mean.

She looks just like me.

Wait there, I'm coming.
Forget Cathal Mills.

- I'm coming out to you now.
- Sam's here. I'm all right.

Sam's here with me.

I'd feel a lot better with things if
I knew you were jumping

all over Cathal Mills. I'll talk
to you later. I've got to go.

Sam, we're at work!

How does Mackay think he's going to
get away with pretending

- she's alive?
- You let me worry about that.

You know the house, she lives in, right?
Whitethorn House?

You know where she lived?

I went to talk to the owner,
see if they'd been

- asked about selling the land.
- Did you see her?

Of course, I didn't, I didn't see anyone.

Right, well, they're all students,
so they'll all still be in their pits.

You wake 'em up, you tell 'em what's
happened, you that 'em

she's gone for emergency surgery,
you take statements, you search

her room, I want laptop, and I want
her phone. You find out who she is

and who she's been talking to and if
there's any connection

- with Johnstone.
- I just want to get this very clear.

Their friend's murdered and you
want me to tell 'em that she's OK?

Well, not OK.

Hanging on by a thread.

You want to trap some arsehole
in a jail cell, that's one thing.

I'm not lying to a bunch of kids.

Detective O'Neill, someone in
this village identified this girl,

which means she and her little chums have
all been watched,

they're probably still being watched.

So, until we've seen Vincent Johnstone,

she remains in the land of the living.

Those others know she's dead.

The old fella with the dog, who
found her.

No, he stopped in the
doorway, he didn't come in.

The Gardai out there, they called
her in dead. I called her in dead!

Well, you're part of the charmed
circle now, Sammy boy.

And as for the Gardai, I'll just
swing my big dick around

- and they'll do as they're told.
- What if I don't do as I'm told, huh?

What if I don't give a fuck
about your big, swinging dick?

Christ's sake, Sam! Will you just do it!

Please!

We just need time.

Bit of a desk, isn't he?
Bit proper procedures.

What's he doing with you?

All right, I'll go and have a
meaningful and slightly threatening

conversation with the uniforms out there.

Wait for forensics and then
you and me can pop in

on our boy Johnstone, OK?

Police, Cathal Mills?

- Boardroom down the end.
- Thank you.

24/7 looking after your needs, and
when I say you,

I don't mean you as a group...

...each every one of you, individually.

Cathal Mills, I'm Detective Robert
Reilly, I'm investigating

the murder of Katharine Devlin, I
need you to answer some questions.

Get them more coffees and keep them here,

this'll only take a few minutes.

You'd better have a bloody
good reason for marching

into my place of business.

You've been away a long time
with only that little suitcase.

I have a flat in Berlin.

I do a lot of business there.

I only need my laptop, and a few bits.

I have everything I need there.

You left very soon after Katy's murder.

- I had business to attend to.
- You didn't get in touch

with your friend Jonathan,
offer condolences.

We were friends a long time ago.

I would have thought you'd have
sent a card at least.

Even if you'd fallen out with Jonathan.

Who said we'd fallen out?

...We just grew apart, like people do.

- Did you know Katharine Devlin?
- No.

You knew her mother, Margaret.

By sight.

Well, a bit more than just sight.
I mean, it's her testimony

and her testimony alone that places
you and Jonathan

and Shane Waters at the cinema

the night of Peter Savage and
Jamie Rowan's disappearances.

Well, by sight would do it, wouldn't it?

I knew her by sight, she saw us,
it's not hard.

- Were you at the cinema that night?
- Yes.

Now, why are you asking me about this?

- I thought this was about Katy Devlin?
- This is about Knocknaree...

...and your involvement
with the events of 1985.

- I wasn't involved.
- You were questioned three times.

You and Shane and Jonathan. Three times.

That's because those detectives
wanted to look busy,

like they were doing something.

Where would I find Shane?

No idea.

Hospital? Prison?

Most likely, he's lying dead
somewhere with a needle

hanging out of his dick.

No, he isn't any of those, I've checked.

And I've gone through
all unidentified street deaths, too.

I'm like that. Thorough.

Well, I haven't seen him
since I left that shitehole.

Are we done here?

Keep yourself fit.

You got a tracksuit?

- What?
- Your laptop, Mr Mills,

that you take everywhere with you,
if I was to get a warrant

and seize it as evidence,
what would I find on it?

Well, firstly, evidence of what?

And secondly, work.

You'd find my work.

What about pornography?

Do you have pornography on your
laptop, Mr Mills?

Yes. And?

What sort? Ordinary. The usual.

What most men look at it when
they're cracking one out

- at the end of a long day, you know?
- Let's pretend I don't. What sort?

Big, shaved dykes fisting arrogant
Brits until they scream.

Hm. Niche.

Shaved? So, they look like children?

Do you have obscene images of
children on your laptop, Mr Mills?

Underage girls? Jailbait?

Get the fuck out of my office.

Please don't use bad language,
Mr Mills. It belittles us both.

I know you don't have one single
thing on me. If you did,

you'd have a warrant,
but you've got nothing.

I'll be phoning my lawyer about this.

Well, I hope your lawyers advise
you to stay in the country.

Going back to Berlin looks like
you've got something to hide.

He goes anywhere other
than his home address, call me.

Will do, Detective.

Someone else saw the same man I did?

The one in the tracksuit?
Who? Somebody from Knocknaree?

Well, I can't tell you that,
can I, Mr, Donnelly?

Just got some more faces for you
to look at, thrown the net wider.

- You forget to put the bins out?
- It's for Detective Reilly.

He said he wanted to see
everything we found

that's not what we're
looking for. How many are there?

The faces, the men I've got to look at?

I'm not going to lie to you, there's
hundreds of the twisted fecks.

So, we'd better get a wriggle on.

They're clear.

I want to see him on my own.

Fair enough.

What do you want? Come to gloat?

You know what the worst thing is?

I actually liked you.

I really liked you...

...you sly, little bitch.

It's nothing to do with him.

I'm sorry,
I don't recognise the man I saw.

You all right there, Damien?

It's just...

...looking at them...

...knowing what they do.

Damien, this is our main line of
inquiry into who murdered Katy.

I wouldn't be asking you to do this
if it wasn't so important.

Let him have a break. You know a
proper one, fresh air, outside,

chat to him about football or something.

Football?

Films, whatever he likes.
I don't care, take his mind off it

and the first face you show him
when he's back is this.

- Reilly, walk.
- Yes, sir.

Had a complaint about you.

Cathal Mills' lawyers?

I'd expect you to.
Unprofessional, intimidatory...

This is my "Don't piss me off" face.

Cathal Mills likes underage girls.

- Where's this come from?
- A tip.

They don't want to be identified.
But... Jamie Rowan, 13,

Katy Devlin, 13, Margaret Devlin 14,

when she claimed to have seen
the boys at the cinema.

We assumed that just because she
married Jonathan Devlin

- that he'd influenced her, but...
- It could be Mills.

Simone Cameron's known
the family a long time.

I'm going to talk to her
about Margaret Devlin.

Oh, I love this bit.

You know, when you get
the smell of them in your nostrils,

when the hunt is on.
Makes that blood race.

You've spoken to Maddox?
You know what's going on?

A dead woman's been using
her undercover identity.

What a cock-up.

I wouldn't expect anything better
from that streak of piss, Mackay.

He is not going to screw up
this investigation.

Maddox'll be back with us
before this afternoon. Work!

Time of death between 1:00am and 1:30am.

The weapon is a blade about eight
inches long and an inch in depth.

The wound is similar to the one
sustained by Maddox,

but where Maddox got lucky,
when the blade snagged on her ribs

and missed the aortic artery,
this blade did not snag.

Aortic artery severed.

There's no match to DNA
taken from Maddox.

Blood type O rhesus negative.
Tox screen, negative.

No alcohol, no drugs, no fillings,
no sign of orthodontistry.

Some staining from
wine, coffee, cigarettes.

No criminal record,
fingerprints came up with nothing.

No surgical interventions,
so, no medical history,

but there is a kicker.

He has to know.

- Fuck my boots.
- Could we cover her up?

- The hell are you doing here, O'Neill?
- He was at the scene.

He's working my case, not yours.

My case and your case might be connected.

- No, this is down to that bastard psycho.
- No, it's not.

We're still trying to make
a connection with Johnstone.

You're wasting your time.
I told you it's not him.

What did her housemates say?

They're beside themselves.
They want to see her.

- Well, they can't.
- May I continue?

- What was she?
- Student. English faculty. Trinity.

Oh, God. Oh, dear me.

You've really been caught out,
haven't you?

Aren't you supposed to keep alerts open?

Yeah, I do.

Well, then, how did this happen?
How did she sneak

- right in under your nose?
- I'll say this nice and slow,

because we all know you still work
your computer with a foot pedal,

but university registrations
are closed systems.

Tuition had all been paid for.
This could happen easily.

There she is, our Jane Doe,
farting about Dublin,

bumps into an old tutor or some
other student who knew Maddox

back then and so "My God,
Lexie, you're back,

"I can't believe it, heard your
parents put you

"in a rehab in Arizona." Someone
sharp, smart,

they could put together a whole new
identity just by nodding and smiling

while people tell you who you are.

Are yous all on ketamine?
Am I the only one seeing this?!

This is not some straightforward
identify theft

from some random Jane Doe.

Look at them, will you, for
Christ's sake,

with your actual eyes!
They could be twins!

Going a bit red in the face there, Brian.

- Careful you don't have a stroke.
- Don't you Brian me, you arsehole!

When you two are quite finished
banging your little mugs

on the table, I would like to continue.

Right, so. The kicker.

There's a foetus.

She was three months pregnant.

Thanks for coming over, Father.

I appreciate it.

I need to speak to
Father Antony, Cassandra.

You go to your bedroom
and have a little read of your book.

How's the child coping?

Not very well.

She worries me.

They're talking about us.

I know.

I reckon they just want
to get us out the way,

so they can sit there in the nip,
with it all on show.

Their big old bums
and their cabbagey, fronty bits.

Sh, Lexie.

Je t'adore!

Ich liebe Dich.

You're not pregnant.

Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip.

Change of plan.
I've been doing some research.

I want you to be Lexie for a few hours

so her housemates come to see her.

Can you stop that, Rafe?

Detective Mackay, These
are Alexandra Mangan's housemates.

This is Daniel March, Rafael Lahiri,

Abigail Stone, and Justin Mannering.

Thank you, Detective O'Neill.
I can take it from here.

She's, er, she's still with us.

But she's critical.

The next few days will be crucial.

Is she going to make it?

Well, where there's life,
as my mam used to say...

We really need to find her family.

She doesn't have one.

We're her family.

She must have people. You're her friends,

she must have talked about her people.

I don't know how you talk
to your friends, Detective.

I don't feel comfortable pushing
mine on subjects

that they find distressing.

We're her people.

Jesus, that was weird.

Let me tell you
something about Daniel March.

When he was 17, he nearly killed a boy.

Another pupil at his exclusive
boarding school.

Nearly killed him. Was hushed up.

Fuck knows how much it cost his parents

and he was shipped off to some even
more exclusive school.

Prison, really, but with Latin and Greek.

Inherits Whitethorn House from an uncle,

and he makes those three and our
girl Lexie joint owners with him.

All five of them own that house.

So, now you agree with me.

It's nothing to do with Johnstone.

Can Lexie die now?

Don't even think about it.

I think...

I think Lexie should get better
and go back home to her friends.

Take a while, of course.
An injury like that.

- You'd have plenty of time to prep.
- I'm working a murder case, Frank.

- Katy Devlin, remember?
- Gone all desk on me, Cass.

All normal and ordinary and safe.

- So desk. It makes me sad.
- I'm not undercover any more.

Yeah, course you are.

With your boyfriend, your little
routines of dinners out,

and dinners in, going to the films,
trips to the pub,

and walks by the seaside,
your pretend little life.

God, you really have been
watching me, haven't you?

Undercover to the last.
It's a good disguise.

But Rob Reilly's your weak point, Cas.

How does poor Sammy boy not see it?

Come and work with me again.

You know you're only happy
being someone else.

Lexie's your creation.

Don't you want to know who killed her?

I have to go.

Cooking green Thai curry
for my boyfriend tonight.

From scratch.

Then I'm going to throw him on the bed.

Enjoy your microwave burger
and your lonely wank.

Detective Reilly.

I was looking for Miss Cameron.

She's not here.

I mean, that's obvious, isn't it?

Sorry.

How are you doing, Rosalind?

Terrible.

Really terrible.

Why didn't Katy tell me
she'd been followed?

Why didn't she tell me about this
man? I could have done something.

Why did she keep it to herself?

She probably didn't want
to worry you, frighten you.

Why are you here?

I don't mean here right now,
but here... in Ireland?

My dad's family were from Donegal.

He died and I felt the pull, I suppose.

Like me.

I like being here because this is
where I feel close to Katy.

This is where she is.

Rosalind, you have to stop doing this.

Simone doesn't mind. And I help her.

Come on.

I don't think it's appropriate for
you to seek out my daughters

without my permission.

Rosalind is 18, which makes her an adult.

She doesn't need
your permission for anything.

Jessica does.

Yes, but I wasn't actually
looking for either of them.

I wanted to ask if anyone here had
ever seen this man hanging around.

Your old friend Cathal Mills.

He landed back in Dublin this morning.

He's not my old friend,
so it's got nothing to do with me.

Are you sure?

Because if you wanted to take
a moment to think about

and amend any previous statements,
including your statements

from 1985, now would be the time.

Stay away from my daughters.

No! Get off me!

What the fuck are you calling me for?

How did you get my number?

What? You mad? What for?

No. No.

All right, Jesus Christ! All right!

Daddy?

Who was that?

Are your mother
and Jessica packed and ready?

Nearly.

- Are you staying with us?
- I'm dropping you off and coming back.

So, I have to look after them
both on my own?

In a static caravan with a tiny
cooker and no proper bathroom?

Rosalind, just go and finish
packing, yeah?

Just tell me why we're going.
I don't understand!

And who was that on the phone?

Do as you are told.

NOW!

He didn't know 'im. Was he sure about it?

Yeah. He didn't know any of them.

- I want to send him home, he's a mess.
- Fine.

But he comes back tomorrow.
And show him that photo again,

but we'll get something done with
the hair, make it look like

it's... it's scraped back.

You said yourself he's a mess.

Give him a night off
and look at it again tomorrow.

You're the boss.

Jailbait.

Pervert!

Go now.

Go now.

You can't know for certain
that it wasn't Johnstone.

Yes, I can.

He says "It wasn't
me" and you believe him?

He didn't say it. And I just know.
For certain.

Can we just get pizza? It'll be easier.

I'm halfway through now,
might as well carry on.

- They'll find out who she is.
- No, they won't.

She doesn't exist.
I made her up and here she is.

You know, one time,
I was home for my cousin's birthday.

I was in the pub with everyone
and this couple come over.

American. And they go to me, "Oh, my
God, you're the image of our friend!

"The image!" So, they get to
show me photos and, yeah,

I am the image of their friend.
Trey. A firefighter in Boston.

My doppelganger.

This couple take a photo of me,
doing a thumbs up for Trey

and we all have a glass of whiskey,
wish each other a rising road

and go on our way.

What I'm saying is...

...everyone's someone,
this girl is someone.

- She hasn't just appeared.
- Why not?

People disappear all the time.
So, why can't the opposite be true?

- Why can't people just... appear?
- She's someone, Cassie.

Right, she smoked, she drank.

She... she was pregnant.

She existed and they'll
find out who she was.

You didn't make her up.

There's always something
in your family, isn't there?

Birthdays, weddings, christenings,
first communions.

Every weekend,
there's something to celebrate.

There's a lot of us.

How do you keep track of it all?

I don't. It's my mam.

Mam keeps track of it all.

And what are you going to do
when she dies?

Maddox. Yes.

I have drunk too much to drive.

Will you take me to the hospital?

Jesus Christ, Alannah.

It was his family, Cian's family.

Because I grassed on him.

They found me, so you have to move me.

We'll arrest, press charges.

Are you fucking mental?
Do you want me to get killed?

I'm not saying a word against them.

But you have to find me
somewhere else to live,

I can't go home,
so get me somewhere else.

Of course, I'll do everything, trust me.

We'll find somewhere else
for you as soon as we can.

No, not as soon as you can, now!

Now!

Or I'll tell.

I will.

I'll tell how you let Detective
Reilly say I was lower than shit

so that I'd grass.

I know you heard him,
I know you let him say that to me.

So, I don't trust you.

I don't trust you until
I'm in my new place.

So, you get me it.

Now!

I'll make some calls.

OK.

Right.

Cheers.

OK. Emergency accommodation in a few
days and she'll be here until then.

You let him do that?

Rob, to her?

A man was killed. We got a result.

You let a privately educated,
privileged Englishman

tell an Irish girl like that,
with nothing, no privilege,

that she was shit? I don't fucking
care if his granny was born

in some shed out west. He's still
English telling her that she's shit

and you can't see what's wrong with that?

Always the politics.

The politics and the dirty past.

Grow up.

- You got money on you?
- Yeah, why?

Get a cab home.

The reason I know that girl's murder
is nothing to do with Johnstone

is because I used to fuck him.
For a year. His girlfriend.

His piece of wild posh. Do anything.

You get to really know
a man when he's inside you.

You get to know his tell.

Quite enjoyed it, if I'm honest.

Anyway, sleep tight.

Lexie did it.

They sliced her hair off, Rob.

She's lost two teeth.

Our witness.

Thank Christ the baby's OK.

- We'll relocate her.
- Yeah.

We'd better.

It's been such a shit day.

What about that girl,
calling herself Lexie? Are you safe?

Safe as I'm ever going to be.
I've stepped away from it all.

Frank's mess, he can clear it up.

Such a shit day.

Hey.

I told Sam about me and Johnstone.

- Cass.
- Yeah.

- Why would you do that?
- To shock him.

To see his little farm-boy face
crease up. Because I was angry.

Because today's been really, really shit.

- Phelan.
- He is driving, not going home.

On our way.

Cathal Mills is on the move.

Want to see where he's going?

There's a junction coming up,
he's going straight ahead.

Take the junction,
we've got him from here.

- Good work, Phelan.
- Oh, any time, Detective. No worries.

Exploiting his man-crush.

Yeah, fine, I'm
exploiting his man-crush. So what?

Cathal Mills is going to Knocknaree.

That's where he's going.

What have you been saying?

- About what?
- That fucking night!

I told them we were at the cinema.

What about Sandra?

Not that anyone's going to believe
a word out of her slag mouth.

My daughter was murdered, Cathal.

My baby was suffocated to death.

- Shane? Have you seen him?
- No.

It's him painting all that bullshit
all over the place,

you know that, yeah?
It's him, he's off his tits.

He's been following me around,
going on about raising a darkness.

I've been paying the shit to go
away, I've been dealing with this.

You haven't! Now I've got some prick
detective on my case.

My daughter was killed!

My daughter! My baby is dead!

There's blood pissing out of my nose!

You broke my nose, you bastard!

Did you think that we were going to
live normal lives?

Did you really think that, Cathal?
That there'd never be a reckoning?

You're as bad as Shane.
You're as bad as him.

He gets in touch with you, you tell
me, yeah? Cos I'll end him.

I'll leave his bones in a ditch,
I'll think nothing of it.

I got out of this place.
I am not getting dragged back.

We have to find Shane Waters.
He's the key to 1985.

He knows what happened
to Jamie and Peter.

We find that out, we find
who killed Katy.

He might know what happened to you.

What are you going to do about Sam?

Nothing.

It's not like I can explain it, anyway.

Not to him.

He's not a freak, like you.

You understand, but he wouldn't.

That it was never really me
doing all of that.

It was Lexie.

She was always the bold girl.

It was the sort of thing she did.

What was that?

I don't know. Wait here for a second.

Cassie, it's our favourite.

* In the deserts of Sudan *

* And the gardens of Japan *

* From Milan... *

* ..To Yucatan *

* Every woman, every man *

* Hit me with your rhythm stick *

* Hit me! Hit me! *

* Je t'adore, ich liebe dich *

* Hit me! Hit me! Hit me! *

* Hit me with your rhythm stick *

* Hit me slowly, hit me quick *

* Hit me! Hit me! Hit... *

There's a deer!

Mammy? Daddy?

Mammy and Daddy?

They're dead. But you've got me.

You've always got me.

Bollocks.

Sorry, mate.

It was nothing. Whatever it was,
can't have hit it that hard.

Cass.

I'm OK.
I'm all right, I'm OK.

- Morning, Cassie.
- Morning.

- Morning.
- Hey, lads.

Guess who's back on hotline duty.

Damien Donnelly cried off.

His mum's having a bad day,
got to stay home with her.

Where's Reilly and O'Neill?

Reilly's in the basement doing
something weird to a bag of rubbish.

O'Neill...?

You should be looking for Adam.

Ask Adam what he did in the woods.

Hey.

Anything?

What?

Rob, it's just me.

I knew you'd think it was something.

- What's happening here?
- You were crying, Cass.

Crying girls make me hard.

That's it. That's all.

If it makes you feel any better,
you can tell yourself Lexie did it.

Fuck you.

Lexie did it.

There is no Lexie!

There is no Lexie! There is just you!

There's just you!

I know! I know! I know!

I'll do it.

I'll be Lexie for you.

What's the nature of the bond
between you and Cathal Mills?

What's the secret? There isn't one.