Original subtitles

My name is Ray and I'm an addict.

I want to drink this fucking steady dry.

You two are going to be partners.

You're suggesting Britney is dead at the hands of a serial killer already in

prison? Father is dead and a heart attack.

I can't lose a fucking creepster. You still using the toilet, Uncle Jock? Ray

Lennox? My 11 o'clock appointment, right? I'm Sally Hart.

Meant to spill my darkest, deepest secrets and we walked through them. Now

it's for you to decide what you feel comfortable talking about.

Now you go home. You're on leave till further notice.

Fear. The basic human emotion that tells us whether to fight or run away.

It's good to face up to your fears.

However, doing so doesn't guarantee success.

If it did, it wouldn't be such a big deal.

But facing your fear is not the same as conquering the bastard.

No.

That's a different thing entirely.

We all have to get on with it.

We must opt to live.

The great thing about this country is how we just love a comeback here. I went

as low as it's possible for one to go, and the only way from there is back up.

Well, how low are we talking?

Well, let's not rake over old coals. The good citizens of Henley-upon-Thames have

entrusted me to represent them in the mother of all parliaments.

And your views have changed.

Yes, people know who I am.

that i have nothing to hide and jacinda in parliament i represent them and

that's what matters to the people of this country real people don't care

about personal pronouns and positive discrimination they want food on the

table firing the great and a job that won't be snatched by someone with no

associations with this great country are you talking about refugees again well

let's let's call them what they are immigrants can you believe i used to

think we should send them back home to where they came from so that's changed

Yes. Let's make use of them. Fix the potholes.

Push the hospital trolleys.

Serve the good people of this country.

To what?

No pay, just subsistence meals.

If we are to better understand crime and victimization, we have to consider the

role of gender.

What does a homicide in Leith have in common with elephant seals butchering

each other during breeding season?

Testosterone.

Free, come on in.

You look very well.

Aye, everything's good.

No relapses while you've been away?

Uh... Well, I mean, it's a girlfriend.

I didn't survive the break.

How do you feel about that?

Cop relationships.

Goes with the territory.

You're not sad?

Well, you can only be yourself.

So you have no expectation that any relationship you enter into will last?

The only thing that lasts with me is the job.

But some officers do have long and successful relationships. You mentioned

your own boss.

He's been married for many years, hasn't he?

I mean, if you're an old straight peg, I suppose it can be done.

I know.

First day back at work.

Oh, I'm raring to go. I'm clean. I'm a normal cop.

You weren't a normal cop before.

To me, yeah.

I see.

Recovery requires us to meet our emotions head on.

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

I've been thinking about my emotions.

I don't feel I need this anymore.

Do you really feel that?

Well, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

In my clinical opinion, I'd like us to continue until we see how you get on

with being back at work.

door closing door opening

door closing

door

opening after you first day back eh?

aye

Ray, welcome back.

Thanks. Great to see you.

Morrie Erskine.

Transfer through here for dear old Glasgow Toon on a wee civilising

mission. Wee gee.

Civilising.

I hear congratulations are in order, Inspector Drummond.

Congratulations.

We lost one of our own.

He's not dead.

Tommy Stark.

Transferred here from Vice.

Got a bee in his bonnet about Gilman being fired.

Amen.

Come on in.

You're looking very healthy, boss.

I think it's me, Ray.

I can feel things, you know?

Energy. Right.

Too late now.

You look good.

I wouldn't bet on that.

Oh, I'm fine, boss.

You know, sometimes you have to just leave it all in the park.

You been gone?

Aye. Patchy. Still be good for recovery.

You sure you're ready?

You and Trudy... Never felt better. We're ready to go.

That confectioner case just blew the shit out of you.

There's no blame attached if you can't stomach the stuff anymore.

You could lie on me, Bob.

Well... I may as well...

Thank God you're back, Ray.

It's been chaos.

I knew that.

I've had to put up with such shit.

You know, they put me in the car with Gilman.

Yeah, I'd heard.

It was a nightmare.

Proximity gave him an extremely inappropriate sense of familiarity.

Fuck's sake.

He couldn't keep his hands to himself.

I told him I'd be filing a report unless he behaved.

Recorded every incident.

He stopped.

Then he became verbally abusive.

So he was disciplined?

We were going through the procedure and two other female colleagues came

forward.

It was game over for him.

I didn't want him to lose his job, Ray.

If he couldn't control himself, it was him who lost him his job, not you.

You're the one who got a promotion.

I know that I rode you a coattails on the confectioner case.

No. No, we worked that case together.

We solved it because of you.

Pull over up here. This is where I need to be.

I'm glad you got in touch.

Tried this nettle tea.

It's got a wee bit of a jag about it.

No pun intended, eh?

Anything for the safe buzz.

If my sponsor rates it, I'm in.

It's... It's been tough, eh?

I was hollowed out after the breakdown.

Lacked even the motivation to drink.

That's when I started to feel better, and then...

And then Trudy and I split and... You still been working the steps?

I hope you'll be back at the meetings now that you're home. No, aye, yeah, I

am. Of course. How are you doing?

Me and the missus are back together.

Solid as a rock.

The fire brigade is much the same.

Run by emotionally incontinent bastards.

I still love it, though.

You rain.

You need to just keep on keeping on, pal.

Room service.

I want your essays in next week on the biology theory versus the sex role

theory. Does increased testosterone or the identities we are ascribed during

early socialization have more impact on the likelihood of committing violent

criminal activity?

This is not a binary argument.

For so many years of my life, I was at war.

Every man has a woman inside him and every woman a man.

This has its physiological and social expressions, but I think this struggle

is an unavoidable part of what it is to be human.

When I had my operation and my male organs were removed,

when the man in me finally surrendered,

I hoped I would become the most beautiful woman in the world.

And what happened instead was far more important.

I became myself.

Essays on my desk on Tuesday, please.

Thanks.

It's nearly ready. Just letting the flavours infuse. If you're done in the

kitchen, just sit down, Angus.

Yeah. Are you sure it's all right we're here? I know Ray wouldn't want... Maybe

I should go.

Leave you used to it. Nobody's going, Jock. Sit down. We're family.

Now, what about Raymond? Ray will have to suck it up.

Where's your brother?

He's, uh, getting dressed.

God help us.

Is it that?

Fuck yes.

Dad's ashes.

I'll put them away.

I left them out to remind me to give them to Ray.

Jack, looking good.

What the fuck? You said that he wasn't going to... Never mind what I said.

You'll go in there and make nice. What the fuck is that?

Dad's ashes. They were upsetting, Mum. I'm leaving them here.

You wanted to take them. Aye, but fuck, none of the new.

I'm going home.

Don't be a child, Ray. Child?

Child? Her own fucking lover boy sneaking around behind Dad's back for 30

years, fucking like the... Ah, esteemed brother-in-law of a diner's finest.

Nothing could be finer than to be an old diner in the morning.

Come on in.

I cannae make heed nor tell ye what this is. That's cos you've a mince pie supper

and chippy sauce palate, Jock.

Well, smells good.

This vegan beetroot and springtime furra veg risotto, well, might be a little bit

outside your terms of reference.

Think vegetable curry and rice, Jock.

Best thing I ever did, Avril, was pack in the log, retrain the chef and open

the bistro. You gave up your job cos you couldn't hack it, darling.

That's an idiosyncratic view.

You know, I wish they'd got into the restaurant business earlier.

Right.

Listen up.

Today is about family. And specifically this family. Stuart is

doing well, shooting whatever he's shooting in Hungary. Ray is still

putting villains away.

And I have officially been made partner in the practice.

Oh, you're talking about the...

sanctity of family round this table. Let's just leave this till later, shall

we? Seconded. Can a mother not show pride in her own family?

We're talking about family, and specifically this one. Perhaps we should

be more... upfront.

Very well.

Angus and I are going through...

A rocky patch.

Is that what we're calling it, is it?

But we're working on it. We're in mediation.

Did you not want that nice jacket I bought for you?

Don't you like this, Gran?

Kindly leave the table and return dressed.

Come on, Jack, it's no big deal. It's a man's dress, like a boy. When he came

out of me, they said, it's a boy. More reactionary turf bullshit.

I'm a feminist, and young idiots acting out like this are dangerous stooges of

the patriarchy, attacking women's hard-won rights. I have a right to

choose who I want to be. What's wrong with that? It's a fad. It's trendy.

No, my dad used to... Don't bloody well start. I've had enough of your shit.

Jackie!

In my day, men were men and women were women.

See, you're keeping quiet, Ray.

Maybe we should all try and be a bit more tolerant towards each other.

It's a difficult time.

Things are changing. This is the new world.

The new generation know how to navigate it better than we do.

Cop out.

Jock?

I'm baffled by it all. Now there's a surprise.

There's nothing wrong with being honest instead of trying to impress people by

talking about something you cannot about, son.

I'm not your son, Jock.

I didn't mean to cause a scene, Uncle Ray. It was her.

I'm her wee brother, mate.

She always was a bit my way or the highway.

Tell me about it.

I suppose you're gonna say that I'm making a fool of myself.

No.

Absolutely not.

I don't know my own mind.

I'm a confused youth.

We're all confused youth, pal.

Just get better at covering it up.

But we remain teenagers, we're continually worse than skin.

You guys know how to operate in this world.

We're all just floundering around at the bus stop waiting to get to the next.

I'm experimenting. I'm trying to find out who I am, what I want.

I'd rather not remain emotionally stunted.

Mean your emotions head on.

Being alive to them but no control by them.

Gayle?

It's Gerry McVitie.

Interrupted and intruded last time.

Turned violent.

Asked for you, Ray.

You okay?

Gerry McVitie was my first partner, my mentor.

Even more than Robbo or Ginger.

Okay, it's not a very high bar, but Gerry was blessed with a mystical

wisdom.

He left the Polish ten years ago, started a new life as Lauren.

You, um, keep in touch?

Why, he dropped his former associates when he left.

I've never met Lauren.

Armando! Fuck's sake.

You okay?

Yeah, fine.

I was kept in so they could check me over.

First time you see me as a... as a bird and I look like this.

Lauren, this is Inspector Amanda Drummond.

Hi. Hello, hi.

Um, I don't know who attacked me.

I could have intercepted a random robbery.

But?

But my gut says it was more than that.

Why were you there?

It was my friend Gail's place.

She's a vulnerable trans woman.

She's been in a...

Very secretive relationship with a high-profile sugar daddy.

Man of great appetites.

Only she's been dropped like a hot tatty and warned never even to mention his

name again.

Any idea why?

Well, I advised her to speak to the police.

But now she's gone missing and, well, here I am.

So you don't know who this man is?

Girl didn't say.

Her background's in the sex industry. She's discreet.

I'm worried about her.

Mandy, let's get round to Gail's flat now, eh?

Thank you, Ray.

That drumming whore.

She's fucked up, Gilman.

Who's next on her radar?

You ever miss the old days?

On the beat?

Prancing round in the uniform like a fucking nonce.

Have you seen this?

She's at it again.

Put up a new video.

I'm Helena Cairns.

All For A Cult is a provocative podcast focusing on women's rights, especially

in the sex industry.

We'll be taking a deep dive into the business and the men who use it.

And we will not be shying away from naming local politicians, businessmen

and cops that have all been our clients.

Let's get down to the sauna.

She can't get away with grassing up pole lifts.

This is the last straw.

What do we think?

Are we still looking for someone?

We're trying to send a clear message.

Bold choice.

Spends a lot of time in the lands where it seems.

Looks that way.

Huh.

Check this out.

Someone, I'm guessing her mystery man, made Gail sign an NDA to say she

wouldn't discuss the relationship.

His name's blanked out.

But the lawyers isn't.

Wilberforce.

What the hell?

Ah. All right, doll.

How's the L-O-V-E business?

Talk to the investment consultants here.

Papa Tommy!

I need to see Helena.

She don't work here any more.

She's packed it in now that she's paid off her student debt.

Oh, fuck.

I don't think that Helena would grasp me up.

But if she did, I'd never be promoted again.

I'd end up being the fucking office boy for that snidey wee pump Drummond.

You think promo beckons, big man?

Toll's fucked. He'll be in the Algarve hitting golf balls soon.

Maybe not next year, but within the next three.

This Lennox boy?

He's tapped in the heed.

He'll get farmed out. That leaves me versus Drummond.

If she got that info for that scrubber Helena... Nicky Corby, what the fuck are

you wanting?

Hey, Tommy.

I've got something for you.

Right, OK.

Now, there was a boy in here yesterday, right?

Works for that posh Lansborough hotel.

He says some toff got his tackle sliced off.

Yeah, they came in there the other day.

Right.

Gad was taking a bottle of fizz up to the room and found a total bloodbath.

So?

So... open up the wallet.

Nobody reported it.

The whole thing got cleaned up by some dodgy fuckers who were any of your boys.

Stafford told not to speak about it, but the boy cannae keep his mouth shut.

Please, Tommy.

Stay shut till you say the name.

Now get everyone's attention.

Lauren Fairchild intercepted an intruder in her friend Gail's flat last night and

was attacked.

The intruder got away.

Gail Nicholson, good friend of Lauren's. Oh, um, everyone, this is our new tech

whiz, the amazing Anne Struther Magnusson.

I go by Struthers.

OK.

Thanks, Sophie. Sorry, I just thought it was important.

As I was saying...

Gail Nicholson missing now for six days as a sex worker and has been silenced

about her relationship with a VIP.

Lauren has been asking around looking for Gail and last night found someone

ransacking Gail's flat.

During our search of her flat today, we found an NDA signed by Gail forcing her

to keep quiet about her relationship.

My guess is that's what the intruder was looking for when Lauren interrupted

them. We're taking this seriously. Lauren, one of us.

Tommy, there's no one of us.

Meaning? No longer polis.

I'm not getting the big deal here.

Some band was robbing the place and your mate interrupted.

OK, a wee bit of GBH has taken place, but no real harm done.

Sounds like a load of coincidences to me.

I sat in a car with Jeremy Gavitti for years. His hunches were bang on. If

Lauren thinks there's more to this, then there's more to it. We need to find

Gail.

At the moment, there are two possibilities.

She could have gone to ground of her own accord, done a runner because she got

spooked when Lauren told her to come to the police, but Lauren doesn't think

that feels right.

The second option, the people who told Gail never to speak the name of her

mystery man have disappeared. I want you all to get on Gail's phone, custody

records and the CCTV.

Piece together Gail's last known movements. Find her.

Find her.

Smells like you've been hard at it.

Aye. Got some leads to a real crime.

No offence to your tranny ex.

A boy nearly lost his wedding tackle, involuntary, after some man-hating whore

tried to take it with a blade.

What's this nonsense?

And I went and saw the mess of the fucker. Down to the Lansborough Hotel.

He says we're all hushed up.

So we're off to the lab to check the footage and see if there's anything from

outside the hotel. Then we're right down there. An assault like this and we don't

know about it.

That's exactly what we're saying.

How can a hotel cover up an incident like this?

What sort of person would have to be involved?

Well, Gail's mystery man made her sign an NDA and now she's gone to ground.

Her flat was full of Lansborough goodies. This is true. The boy's got

some serious clout.

Okay, get down to the Landsborough, speak to the staff, but be discreet.

Well, I'll be asked that, because that was our lead. So work it.

Lean on the porter, get him to squawk.

And good work.

This is weird, Ray.

A cover-up like that.

It doesn't make sense.

I think we need to make a detour, DI Drummond.

Where did you get this document?

You do know the status of this? It's pertinent to an ongoing investigation.

I'm not at liberty to say where it came from. So, who's your client?

I'm certainly not at liberty to say that. Your client frequents the

Landsborough Hotel, right?

Why is this anonymity so important?

This is a confidential legal document.

Our democracy is underpinned by civil liberties under which...

My client is entitled to their anonymity. No of your client is of

interest to our investigation.

So stop fucking obstructing us on behalf of rich fucking... Ray, what are you

doing here?

Ralph, the Conway file.

I'm done with it.

Thank you.

I hope my brother isn't giving you a hard time.

Oh, I perish at thought.

No, we were just finishing up.

Thank you.

For your help.

Check these fucking warthog pricks with their noses in a trough of privilege.

Officers, I'm the duty manager.

How can I help you?

DI Drummond, this is DI Lennox.

Hoping to ask you a few questions about an incident that may have occurred here

at your hotel last night.

Of course.

Pull me.

I'm sorry, what you're suggesting is impossible.

An eyewitness claims there was an immediate cover-up.

I have over 100 staff working here.

How do you propose something like that could stay under wraps, Inspector?

We'd like to speak to the staff who were on shift last night and take a look at

your CCTV.

Our CCTV was down for maintenance yesterday.

What room is this alleged bloodbath supposed to have taken place in? Perhaps

we could show you that.

We'll need it back at base.

Sorry I can't be of more help, inspectors.

We'll be in touch.

Ray, Amanda.

Boss?

Good afternoon, inspectors Drummond.

Lennox? Sir Oliver Heathcote. He represents the Home Office.

You flatter me, Chief Superintendent. Nothing so grand.

Boss, the word is you're seeking information regarding the personage

behind a certain injunction.

That's correct.

The person who signed it is wanted in connection with an assault.

We need to know all the circumstances.

That's irrelevant.

The identity of the person who ordered the NDA is immaterial to your inquiries.

You will drop this immediately.

With respect, I take my orders from the Chief Superintendent.

Don't be a smartass, Ray. We've reason to believe this person was involved in a

violent assault at the Lansborough Hotel last night. A violent assault?

Which took place in a respectable hotel with no witnesses, no visible signs, and

everybody telling you that no such event took place.

The ravings of a lunatic.

Wouldn't you agree, Inspector Drummond?

It might be, sir. Don't embarrass yourself.

Must have been some non-existent attack to bring you here. Tory minister?

Royalty? Or just someone who's greased enough of your sweaty fucking palms?

Enough, Ray. Idle speculation devoid of facts, Inspector.

I'm afraid the embarrassment is all yours.

I know where you've come from, Lennox, and you don't want to find yourself back

there.

Not when you've worked so hard.

You fucking arsehole.

Your illusions run away with you.

Again. Nothing took place.

Nothing to investigate.

Is that clear?

Chief Superintendent?

But one thing is certain.

Every sex worker should be a feminist.

What the fuck?

Fucking establishment nonsense.

No chance of any justice until we get them all to fuck.

Raymond, you are ranking officer in this department.

You sound like a semi-literate clown from a polytechnic so low rent that

you've forgot to rename it a university.

Get a grip, man!

Amanda, what have we got here?

I don't think it's a coincidence that we can link Gil to the Lansborough. Who the

fuck was in that hotel room? Heathcote just confirmed the hotel incident by

omission and then we find that dressing gown in Gil's flat?

So Gail is potentially linked to the hotel attack. All roads are leading back

to the Landsborough. We need to know who was in that room.

Boss.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Why me?

It's daily fucking torture.

You find Gail.

Nothing else, mind. Keep away from that fucking hotel.

Get the fu-

Stop messing with my head! Out!

Move, Jezebel!

All Fur Coat, the podcast with a difference.

We represent the folk with the tales you won't hear in the mainstream media.

So we want to hear from you, not just prostitutes, but pimps, johns, vice

cops, everybody involved in this big, beautiful industry.

Hi, my name is Ray and I'm an addict.

I said goodbye to my father today.

Well, I tried to ...

He was a victim of all the vino, self-serving cockroaches that inhabit

our society.

Those people who don't give a flying fuck for anybody but themselves.

I sometimes think it's that which drives me and keeps me straight. No, these

meetings.

We stand together one last time on the hard ground

where we spent so many moments.

Where we bonded.

Where we... You just let her make a fool of you.

And you made a fool of us.

Why?

Why did you not fight back?

Eh?

You lost her, but you still had me.

You still had me. Why did you not see that?

You should have seen me.

I was just a kid.

I was just a kid.

You should have seen me.

You fucking bastard.

You fucking bastard.

I miss you.

Fuck, I love you, Dad.

I love you.

What are you up to? You can't escape the ashes here.

Get the fuck before I phone the police.

Get the fuck.

Fuck off.

You know what?

Burn with a passion to rid society of its vermin and of its liars and its

cheats.

Every gain they make is at the expense of good

ordinary folks.

Those locusts have to consume everyone in their path.

We have to resist them. We must opt to live.

But sometimes that choice is taken from us.

Old fears

can breed new ones.

And the social

contagion rages on.