Original subtitles

We've got nothing further to discuss.

Come on!

Oh, no!

Pathetic.

No, no.

Jesus, Mary, and fucking Joseph.

"Got a problem? We'll bang it on the head."

Now, before you start bollocking the bejesus out of me,

let me explain.

Two words, Jack -- sprout business.

- "Sprout business"? - Exactly.

Now, I've put together a small business plan.

The key words are "growth through exposure."

We put up posters all over the country.

We create a Web page. We open a Facebook account.

We get spots on radio and national TV.

Okay, maybe not the TV spots.

Old fella like you is probably nervous around cameras.

I'm getting seriously nervous around you.

We haven't had a paycheck in two months.

We need a case.

Is that you, Jack?

I need your help.

Looks like we have one already.

Called pilfering in the poor box?

I can see this was a mistake.

Easy.

This was put under my door last night.

A priest gets hate mail. So?

There's more to it than that.

Father Malachy asking me for help

was about as likely as the pope leading the gay pride parade.

Something was very out of kilter.

That must be where they found Father Royce's head.

Takes a lot of strength to behead someone.

Or a lot of hate.

That's no way for anyone to die.

May he rest in peace.

Or pieces.

20 years ago,

I was Father Royce's assistant in this church.

He was well respected.

His sermons resonated.

It was an honor to serve with him.

Which is why it was so difficult to do anything about it.

About what?

My church duty finished around 6:00.

One evening, I came in late.

Looks like we have company, boys.

Come in.

When Father Royce saw me, he laughed,

told me I called at a bad time.

Class is over, boys.

He then came over to me.

Shh!

And you kept your mouth shut like a good Catholic.

I did not.

I took the matter to the proper authorities.

But not right away.

I had to make inquiries, interview the boys.

And, frankly, I was scared

of going against somebody like Father Royce.

So the abuse went on.

I acted as fast as humanly possible.

And?

One of the boys' fathers was rich and powerful,

not someone the clergy wants to cross.

We thought it best interest to assign Father Royce to Boston.

Royce's brother died a few days ago.

He came back to Galway for the funeral.

And his own.

What'll the Guards have to say about all this?

Jesus!

You didn't tell the Guards, none of it?

It wasn't my place.

Father Royce's transgressions were a church matter.

You're withholding evidence vital to a murder inquiry.

I answer to a higher law.

Cody.

Please, Jack, find out who sent the note.

You owe me.

I looked after your mother when no one else did.

The two boys.

What were their names?

Girl.

Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming here today.

I know that my esteemed partners would love for me

to talk about the financial and economic impact

that the redevelopment of the docks will have on this city,

the large number of jobs it'll create, the untold benefits.

But I'm afraid I must disappoint them.

For me, this project is as much about family

as it is about business.

This country has lost everything that it once possessed.

Mistakes were made.

Greed ran rampant.

But the one thing we haven't lost

is our sense of responsibility.

If we want to create a better future for our children,

now is the time to start.

Now is the opportunity to begin again,

and everyone deserves a second start.

Your speech was mighty.

Thank you.

Especially what you said about second chances.

You're living proof, after Father Royce and all that.

Who are you and what do you want?

My name's Jack Taylor.

All I want is a good chat.

Jack Taylor?

Yeah, right.

You're the private dick.

So, you're looking into the death of Father Royce,

are you, Jacko?

In a manner of speaking.

Uh-huh. And who's paying your freight, the Church?

Client confidentiality.

I see.

And you want to know did I kill Father Royce?

Did you?

Yeah, I did.

So case closed, huh?

I killed Father Royce many times over.

Shot him, stabbed him, cut his balls off.

In here.

But I moved beyond that.

Years of therapy.

I faced my demons. I moved on. I was lucky.

Some people never get that chance.

Anyone you have in mind?

That's not for me to say.

Your fellow altar boy, Tom Reed.

Do me a favor, Jacko.

If you ever catch the guy who did it, shake his hand for me.

Well, who the fuck told him?

Tom bloody Reed?

Take it easy, Michael.

Royce's death was bound

to bring filth floating up to the surface.

If Taylor knows about the abuse,

chances are he'll find out about everything else as well.

- Then I'm fucked. - Michael.

Michael, look at me.

Look at me.

I'll find out how much Jack Taylor knows

and who's behind this.

I'll take any action necessary. Do you understand?

Yeah. That's better.

And you just go out there and work your magic.

- Okay. - Yeah.

Smug little gobshite.

It doesn't make him a criminal.

No. But there's something off about him.

Sure, he looks the business, talks the business,

but he's got tombstones in his eyes.

Jack Taylor.

The P.I. who strikes fear into the hearts of criminals.

Scary, huh?

You should see my collection of stuffed heads.

Noola Donnelly, freelance reporter.

I'm Cody.

The Batman and Robin of Galway.

Listen, I'd love to give you the opportunity to tell your story.

You know -- What's it like being a private eye,

prowling the main streets of Galway City.

Free publicity!

Sounds tempting, Ms. Donnelly.

However, Cody and me, we're like Greta Garbo.

Just want to be alone?

Shake a leg, Cody.

So, what have you got on him?

He's done time for drugs possession and shoplifting.

Get this.

10 years ago, Reed was convicted for the rape and torture

of a 12-year-old boy, a Christian Tracey.

So Tom Reed, who was abused by Father Royce as a child,

becomes an abuser himself.

Lovely.

Lovely.

Bastard! I'll kill you!

You're not...

Who are you?

Kenya blend, organic.

Smells good.

It's a dark roast, now, mind. Not many can handle it.

Sorry about the warm welcome,

but I get regular visits from those fuckers outside.

Got the TV last night.

Did this to me.

Caught them coming back again for the coffee machine.

Let them try.

What did you say you were selling again?

I didn't.

We're looking into the death of Father Royce.

The beheaded priest.

I heard of it.

We have reason to believe you were once the victim

of prolonged abuse at the hands of Father Royce.

Who told you that?

Still keep in touch with Michael Clare?

You spoke with Michael?

For a while there,

after the bollocks Royce left, we were inseparable.

We drank.

Tried to get on with our lives, failed.

Fantasized about torturing and killing Royce.

Drank some more.

We needed closure, justice, revenge, anything.

Without that, we couldn't move on.

But Michael did move on.

Hey, so did I.

Just in the other direction.

How did you feel when you found out Father Royce was dead?

Sometimes, for variety, he'd stick it in my mouth.

So, how did I feel?

I felt sorry.

Sorry that it was his head that got cut off.

They got the wrong end.

You were convicted for the rape and torture

of a 12-year-old boy, Christian Tracey.

You never mentioned Father Royce's abuse

in your defense.

It would have mitigated your sentence.

What was the point?

Nobody would have believed me, and I couldn't prove it.

Same old story.

Got a fucking problem, Grandad?

No, but you will if you call me "Grandad" again.

Relax, lads.

We just want to talk.

You nick stuff from your man in number 11, right?

Even if we did, do you think we'd fucking admit it to you?

Look, we're just looking for information.

Fella's a regular customer.

He keeps buying these big fucking TVs,

laptops, and game consoles.

We keep stealing them, so we're sorted.

No need to rob anyone else.

Where does he get his money from, drugs?

He's a buyer, not a dealer.

Likes a bit of heroin with his cappuccino.

- Espresso. - What?

Your man drinks espressos, not cappuccino.

- Fuck you, Mike. - Don't fucking hit.

All right, lads. Thanks.

Oh, one other thing.

Aah!

- What the fuck was that for?! - Fucking pricks.

I didn't call you "Grandad" again, did I?

You curse too much.

Tom Reed doesn't exactly look like a workaholic,

yet he wears an expensive watch,

a state-of-the-art coffee machine,

and drinks vintage champagne along with his breakfast.

Dig deeper into Clare and Reed.

Look at that rape case again. How did it happen? Details.

Gotcha. We're singing off the same hymn sheet.

Anyway, I've got to make tracks.

Oh. Where to?

Some of us have a life.

Go easy on the mojitos.

Go visit Reed again in the morning.

I need you sharp.

He doesn't listen to a word I say.

There you go.

I'll have what he's having.

One Coke coming up.

Oh, scratch that. He'll have what I'm having.

Uh, two vodkas straight up.

So, you've got a pass for the night?

Did you come here to talk shop or insult me?

Oh, sorry.

Sorry. Habits.

Nice.

P.I. Cody Farraher, tell me about your first case.

Your speech was mighty.

Especially what you said about second chances.

You're living proof, after Father Royce and all that.

I won't ask you boys to do anything you don't want to.

But sometimes you need a special experience

to help you on the road that you've chosen yourself.

So case closed, huh?

- Michael? - What?

Sorry, Ethna.

I'm just...

Pressure of the last few days. I'll follow you up.

Is everything okay?

Everything's grand, honey.

You go on up.

Okay.

- 1, 2, 3. - 1, 2, 3.

Hey, I'm gonna go for a splash.

Oh, lovely. Glad you shared.

Another round?

Yeah. Why not?

Be back in a sec, okay?

Same again, please.

Bollocks.

You know that reporter yesterday, Noola Donnelly?

Your date last night, I take it?

She's Michael Clare's sister.

I know. I checked up on her.

What? Why didn't you tell me?

Because I wanted to see what would happen

without you getting all self-conscious about it.

She went through my phone. She checked everything.

So? She didn't find anything 'cause we don't know anything.

But if Michael Clare sends his sister to spy on us,

it means he's afraid we will.

Now, that's interesting.

We're supposed to be partners. If I know something, I tell you.

Give it a rest, Cody.

I'm serious, Jack.

Stop treating me like a fucking kid.

All right.

Reed, put down your phaser.

We're coming in.

Aw, hell.

Someone had a fight in here.

Forensics will go orbital

if they find your fibers all over the body.

Cheers, Columbo.

Bruising on his wrists, hands.

Like he put up a struggle.

He was already bruised from the hoodies roughing him up.

I didn't notice these before.

Neither did I.

It doesn't mean they weren't there.

Christ, son. Oh, Cody, you can be a real pain in the hole.

I'm just playing devil's advocate.

Do you even know what that means?

Yeah. I've seen the movie.

Cody.

The espresso machine's still there.

Photo.

Bank statements.

Tidy sums going in.

Interesting.

What is?

What are you doing here?

I was just about to ask you that.

Neighbor saw the door open, reported a body in the bathtub.

So Clancy sends his newest and finest detective.

We're understaffed at the moment.

Good to see you back in action, Kate.

Hmm. I bet.

Come on.

I'm really pleased that you're back on track.

Of course you are.

That explains all the hospital visits, the flowers,

the heartfelt concern as I was recovering.

That's below the belt.

Is there any other way with you?

- Listen up, Noonan. - We'll catch you later, Kate.

Come on, Jack.

I want full statements from both of you.

That's it, then.

He sent the threats.

Poor, young Tom Reed.

Looks like it.

Terrible he should have taken his own life.

So you think he murdered Father Royce?

Possibly.

I'd like to thank you, Jack.

Just one question. What is it?

What do you mean?

There's something you held back on.

I don't know what you're on about.

You didn't become this scared just because of one note.

Do you want this or not?

Thanks, Father.

What is it that Michael Clare is so scared we'll find out,

he uses his sister to spy on us?

And who was sending Reed regular payments, two grand every month?

How far do they go back?

Around 10 years.

That's around the same time that --

Reed raped that boy, Christian Tracey.

Oh, sure. It's all theoretical now.

Don't have a client anymore. Don't have a case.

Yep. Now we should just sit back, have another pint.

Our job is done.

Fuck that for a game of cowboys.

When it comes to leaving well alone,

I'm an idiot and, worse, a stubborn one.

I don't know. Sounds risky, especially in these times.

I'm not going to beg, and I'm not going to threaten,

but I know you, Brian.

I know you can be utterly ruthless and profit-driven

when you need to be,

but I also know that you'd like to leave a legacy

that you can be proud of,

something that you know will make a difference

to a lot of lives.

Your head says no. Your heart says yes.

All your life, you've followed your head.

Now it's time to listen to your heart.

Michael.

All right, damn it. I'm in.

Big hi to Ethna and the kids from me.

Fantastic. Well done, Mike.

Great.

Congratulations.

Come back here.

Your security guard tripped and hit his nose against my fist.

It's all right, Johnny.

Sir.

Oh, nice.

What do you want, Jacko?

Your old mate Tom Reed was found dead this morning.

I'm sorry to hear that.

But Tom was on a path that was only going to end one way.

What path are you on, Michael?

Do you know why we chose the bull

as the symbol for our consortium?

Bull?

An obvious explanation springs to mind.

You're too fond of the obvious and the common, Jacko.

No. There is no creature braver than the bull.

It keeps going, wounded, dying.

It doesn't know when to stop.

Is that how you see yourself?

My partners are aware of what Father Royce did to me.

And considering what I've been through and where I am now,

I'd answer yes to your question.

And you, Jack?

Are you brave?

After about three pints.

Here.

I'll get you started.

Go bury yourself in a bottle.

It's what you do best.

My mouth had been the source of numerous disasters.

So for once, I didn't get in the ring.

What path are you on?

...sometimes you need a special experience...

Is that how you see yourself?

Hey, Michael, everything okay?

No, everything is not fucking okay.

Why doesn't Taylor lay off? What's he looking for?

Calm down, Michael.

Just ring Dr. Andrews. Tell her how you're feeling.

I can handle it, Noola.

Well, it doesn't sound like it.

- Michael? - I'm grand.

I'm sorry to hear about your mother's passing.

You knew her.

We met occasionally at funerals.

Shame about the company she kept.

Oh, Father Malachy?

Priests shouldn't smoke.

They should set an example.

The reason I'm here has to do with a crime

committed against your son 10 years ago.

You can ask any question you like.

You don't sound bitter.

My Christian is studying medicine.

God places adversity in our path so that we may benefit from it.

That's what the Bible teaches.

The Bible and Nietzsche.

I'm not familiar with him.

"That which does not kill us makes us stronger."

He must have been a religious man, so, Mr. Nietzsche.

No, Mum. Mr. Taylor's being ironic.

Hey, uh, I don't know how much you heard just now,

but if I may --

Christian is busy with his studies.

I can answer any questions.

- It's all right, Mom. - No, it's not.

It's out of order.

Christian has exams coming up.

He does not need the distraction.

Really, Mom, I'm fine.

You go up to your room.

Mr. Taylor has no questions for me.

I'll see him to the door.

Mr. Taylor!

Would you be willing to describe to me

what happened that night 10 years ago?

It's not very complicated.

I was 12 years old, coming home from football training.

About 10:00 p.m.,

I was walking along the train track

and saw him sitting there on a rock.

Tom Reed?

Yeah.

He was pissed off his head.

Offered me a drink, and when I said no,

he held me down into the grass.

And what did Michael do?

Look, I just wanted to help you. I don't know anything more.

I spoke to Tom Reed before he died.

He told me everything.

I know about Michael.

I have to go.

I'm not the Guards.

I'm not looking for a signed statement.

This will go no further.

They were both drunk or on drugs or something.

Both probably.

It was Michael who did it.

Tom Reed -- He held me down, made sure I didn't get away.

I could tell Tom was scared.

Michael was stronger.

When I came home and told my mom,

it was like she was paralyzed.

I had to ring the Guards myself.

Before they came over, there was a knock on the door.

It was Michael's sister, Noola.

She offered Mom money

if I would tell the Guards it was Tom Reed, not Michael.

Your mother just took it?

She was a single mother, penniless.

I mean, bring charges of sodomy and rape

against the son of the richest family in Galway?

And you?

What did you think?

I was 12.

I always did what Mom said was for the best.

And now?

Now I'd crucify the bastard.

It would be Michael's word against mine.

And besides, we did take the money,

So it'd make Mom look really bad, and I'd never do that.

Just got a text off Noola Donnelly, Skip.

She wants to meet.

Go.

Tell her we know Michael Clare's little secret,

that he raped and beat up Christian Tracey.

See how she reacts.

Is that for real, Jack?

Is that for real, or is it a bluff?

Jack?

It's real.

Mrs. Bailey?

You got something to say, say it.

Sometimes words

just aren't enough.

Let me guess.

You'd like me to give up the day job, huh,

go somewhere the sun don't shine?

- That's enough. - Aah!

I can see you're getting on.

Probably not as fast as you used to be,

but I believe in you, Jack.

I think you will pull it off.

Pull what off?

Stop!

Aah! No!

All right, let's drop the act.

You found out who I am, right?

I didn't ask you here to get anything out of you.

I just -- I want you to understand.

Understand what?

Michael.

You know, he's a victim in all this.

If he's a victim, then why did he rape Christian Tracey

and cover it up?

Michael got a second chance.

The sin is behind him. Rebuilt his life.

What's the problem still?

Jack Taylor harassing Michael, threatening him.

It's getting to him. It's bringing everything back.

Jack's just doing his job.

Do you honestly think

that Michael would jeopardize his family, his work

for revenge against Father Royce?

Come on.

I don't know yet.

Hmm.

Jack Taylor thinks he does.

He wants to bring Michael down out of sheer spite.

No, no. Jack's not like that.

From what I hear, he's exactly like that.

Yeah?

Now.

I'm truly sorry about dragging you into this mess, Mrs. Bailey.

When you dance with the devil as often as you do, Mr. Taylor,

I'm surprised it hasn't happened before.

Now.

What we need is a strong cuppa and a good night's sleep.

Jesus Christ, Jack.

Who did that to you?

Eastern European accent -- Russian, Polish.

But I know who sent him.

Michael Clare?

Or his sister. How'd it go?

Maybe we're jumping to conclusions.

I like jumping to conclusions. Makes me giddy.

I'm just saying, maybe we should broaden our list of suspects.

What the fuck did that woman say to you?

Who? Noola?

- Nothing. She didn't really -- - Noola?

We'll talk about this in the morning.

Talk about it now.

How did Noola react

when you revealed her brother's little secret?

Does it ever occur to you that sometimes, just sometimes,

you might be wrong, Jack?

All the time. Then I wake up.

What the hell are we investigating?

The murder of a pedo priest that nobody misses?

Junkie suicide that only you think is murder?

I just have a feeling that if we keep pushing,

something really bad is gonna happen.

She shagged you, did she?

Fuck you.

Oh, my God.

You scared the life out of me.

If only.

What do you want?

Take a wild guess.

Are you all right?

Hopping.

Well, hop in here, then.

What happened to you?

Your man hasn't reported back to you.

You think I'm some kind of femme fatale, do you?

No, just an unusually protective sister.

Look, my parents were old-school.

They never admitted to the abuse against Michael.

They just -- They just ignored his pain.

Somebody had to be there for him.

But he's all grown up now.

He can look after himself. Or can he?

Your partner seemed to listen to sense.

Why can't you?

You see, when I sniff something rotten I can't see,

it makes me want to root around.

Like a junkyard dog.

Now you're just being nice.

Why are you doing this to Michael?

Why are you protecting him?

Well, it's complicated.

I do complicated. Try me.

I lost my brother when I was 12.

I thought I'd never get him back, but I did.

I'm not gonna let anyone take him away from me again.

Now, how far would you go, exactly?

Go on! Go ahead!

One of my brighter ideas -- shag a suspect.

Nice one, Jack.

You think it's sick, don't you?

What you feel is what you feel.

Don't you judge me.

Love is hard enough to come by.

Might as well embrace it whatever form it takes.

But anything that you feel that strongly

can lead you to do bad things -- very bad things.

Yeah, who is this?

Good morning to you, too.

What do you want, Noonan?

I have some bad news.

The blade punctured a lung

and went within millimeters of his heart.

Will he make it?

I don't know.

Even if he does, he probably won't want to live.

Why not?

He'd have to give up the fags.

If Father Malachy dies,

my dear, departed mother will rain hail and brimstones on me.

Well, there were no witnesses to the attack,

and it happened out of CCTV range.

Forensics are working the scene at the moment.

The weapon?

Thin, serrated blade.

Could be a kitchen knife. Could be a hunting knife.

Is he alive?

He's stable for now.

What's up with you two?

Nothing.

Yeah, I can see that.

Lovers' tiff?

See you later, Kate.

We need to talk.

20 years ago,

Father Royce abused Michael Clare and Todd Reed.

Father Malachy found out

but took his time doing anything about it.

And Clare corroborated this?

Yes.

Now, eventually, the Church reassigned Royce to Boston.

The abuser was gone, but he left behind two very damaged boys,

and one of them, Michael, became an abuser himself.

One night, he went too far,

raped and almost killed a 12-year-old boy,

Christian Tracey.

But Reed was convicted for that crime.

He took the rap.

Well paid off, and so were the Traceys.

Thanks to the persuasive powers of Michael's sister, Noola.

She also gets Michael to go to therapy to get his act together.

He does and becomes the person we know today.

Go on.

So, here's what I think.

Royce arrives in town.

Michael snaps. All the old hatred resurfaces.

He kills Royce, probably on impulse.

But now he's started,

he can't resist taking some much-delayed vengeance.

He stabs Malachy,

but not before making sure Tom Reed won't ever talk again.

The investigation into Father Royce's murder is being led by

the National Bureau of Criminal Investigations from Dublin.

These guys are meticulous, by the book.

If I bring them an uncorroborated a theory

like this, they'll have a fucking field day.

And Tom Reed's death?

Everything points to an overdose.

Just get Clare in for questioning.

Rattle his cage!

Any action I may or may not take will be at my discretion.

Ah, what's the fucking use?

Wait!

Officially, my hands are tied.

But I understand where you're coming from.

I'll keep my eyes open.

If I find out anything, I'll let you know.

And you do the same.

You're a trouper, Noonan.

Oh, I'm not doing this for you, Jack.

If we crack this,

I get to make the boys from Dublin look stupid.

I'm so glad we have this place, you and me.

Yeah.

I really think you should call Dr. Andrews again,

just to help you back on track.

I'm fine.

Really.

I always know when you're lying.

I know you do.

Well, if you feel you're not in control at any point,

you come to me.

Where else would I go?

I'll be late for dinner.

Of course.

Here.

Bang, bang, bang! Gotcha!

- Die, die! - Bang, bang, bang!

- Daddy! - Daddy!

- You're home. - My babies.

- Did you get us anything? - Hiya.

Hey, baby.

I certainly have.

- Chocolate! - Oh, thanks, Dad.

Hey, baby.

Hey, sweetheart.

Daddy's home.

Mr. Taylor is a private investigator.

He's looking into an attack on Father Malachy.

He says you know him.

Well, when I was an altar boy, yes.

Lovely home you have, Michael.

Such a pretty family,

though I don't see a single photo of your sister.

She's got about, oh, a thousand of you.

Why don't we go to my office? We can talk there.

Why not here?

Got nothing to hide from your wife, do you?

No, I don't.

But I understand that you have a little secret, Jacko.

Go to your room, girls. I'll be up in a minute.

Come on, girls.

Mr. Taylor didn't tell you, Ethna,

but he's Noola's new boyfriend.

Noola tells me everything, Jacko.

Frankly, she told me a little bit too much about last night.

How about we talk about your sex life instead of mine?

Oh, but we find yours interesting.

See, Ethna here and Noola don't get along.

And I have to admit, even though she is my sister,

Noola's clingy and overprotective,

so we're both very happy that she's found someone,

even if it is you.

Speaking of secrets, why don't we talk about Christian Tracey?

You mean the rumor

that I had something to do with Tom Reed's crime?

Vicious lies always circulate

around successful people, Mr. Taylor.

In the last five days,

there have been two deaths and one stabbing.

All these crimes have one person in common -- your husband.

Where were you between midnight and 2:00 a.m.?

I'll gladly answer any questions.

To the police.

Give our regards to Noola Donnelly.

Oh, Michael?

Uh, yeah?

We need to meet again.

Where?

Same place.

Hi.

Hi. Is there something wrong?

No.

Can I come in?

Yeah. Of course.

I just wanted to say, about the other night...

You see, me and Jack were, uh...

Anyway... I'm sorry.

No. I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have misled you.

Is that for me?

Aw. Thank you.

God, you really are something else, Cody.

I'm just gonna get a vase.

Um, I was thinking if you're not, uh, doing anything tonight,

maybe we could grab a pizza.

Yeah. I'd love to.

Cody...

Bloody dinosaur froze on me again!

Jesus. Don't lose your head.

I'm cracking a rib laughing at you, Jeff.

Didn't expect to see you any time soon.

You've got the balls to give out to me

for showing Noola some basic human understanding,

and then you go and --

Yeah. It was a mistake.

Is there anything that you do that's not a mistake?

Oh, stop it.

Stop acting like a jealous boyfriend.

All she cares about is her brother.

Anyone else is just there to be used.

And that makes it all right for you to use her?

Grow up.

It takes two to tango.

You tangoed all night, did you?

Why? You looking for tips?

That means she couldn't have stabbed Father Malachy.

You are her alibi.

She left at some point during the night.

Don't know when.

Only came back early morning.

She still could have done it.

If you'd listened to your instincts

instead of your bruised ego,

you'd realize that Noola didn't kill anyone

and neither did her brother.

You're giving me advice on detective work?

I'll prove it to you.

Shut your face and pour me another.

Ha.

How do?

Jeff.

Slow service tonight, huh?

Want to finish that beer?

Where's Jeff?

Just a knock on the head.

Who hired you?

You're gonna kill me, right?

At least tell me who it is.

All right.

I will.

His name is Bimmer -- BMW.

'07 model, I would say.

I never see faces.

Sometimes I don't even hear their voices.

But I almost always hear their cars --

big cars.

The 4x4 BMW goes like a kitten.

But when it gets going...

...it's got claws.

Great.

Stabbed to death by a car buff.

If you're not going to finish that...

I'm not going to pretend that this...

won't hurt.

Oh, uh...

Oh, it'll hurt, all right.

Ooh.

I'm placing you under arrest for assault and attempted murder.

Anything you say can be used in evidence against you.

He says he doesn't know who hired him.

The person who did drives the same make and model

as Michael Clare.

Quite a coincidence.

You're getting soft, Jack.

Oh?

Michael Clare sent someone to kill you.

I'd have thought you'd go charging right back at him

on some half-assed vendetta.

I was tempted.

But?

If this guy can help you nail Clare,

I don't want any technical glitches

to get him off the hook.

Besides, we had a deal, didn't we?

We did.

I just never thought you'd keep it.

Yeah?

Mm-hmm.

Kate.

His name's Tomasz Kaminski. Polish.

Has a reputation for doing other people's dirty laundry.

Denied everything at first, but backed down when he realized

cooperating would seriously reduce his sentence.

He gave us more details on the person who hired him.

Caught part of the license plate.

It's not much,

but enough to pull Michael Clare in for interrogation

on a lineup.

Fucking knew it.

And, Jack, Father Malachy has decided to rejoin us.

Looks like he's gonna make it.

Oh, great.

Well, I'll buzz you later.

Yeah?

They found something.

I thought I'd speak to some of the folks

that live around the church where Royce got killed --

- see if anybody saw anything. - Uh-huh.

I know the Guards have already gone door-to-door,

but I figure it's worth a shot.

And was it?

Nobody saw anything. Nobody heard anything.

But some of the old folks started talking about Royce,

you know -- reminiscing.

Nobody has a bad word to say except one old lady.

She once saw Royce had a screaming match

with a young nun outside the church.

Didn't think that was very saintly of Royce

A nun. Right.

Now, here's the interesting bit.

The old lady tells me

that just after Father Royce left the country,

this very same nun gave up the habit, and she had a child.

This going somewhere?

And she had a name for the nun.

Jack.

I was dreaming of your mother.

Yeah?

I get those nightmares, too.

Luna Tracey, mother of the rape victim Christian Tracey --

She was a nun.

She knew Father Royce.

Why didn't you tell us?

This will have to wait.

Wait.

I didn't tell anyone,

not even your mother, God rest her.

Sister Mary Joseph had found out about Father Royce's abuse

of the two boys, Michael and Tom,

but she felt powerless to do anything.

She came to me for help.

I won't ask you boys to do anything you don't want to.

But sometimes you need a special experience...

Looks we have company, boys.

Father Royce.

You'll have to pardon the state of me.

Come in.

Come in.

Father, this is not right.

This has to stop.

We will report you, Father.

We will see to it that the Church authorities --

No!

- Sit down, Father. - No!

Sit down and learn.

No!

I was younger than Royce.

Stronger.

I could have stopped him.

Class is over, boys.

You're dismissed.

Father -- Father Malachy, help me.

Now, Sister Mary Joseph --

Help me!

No. No. Stop. Stop. Stop.

No. Stop this!

Shh.

Help me!

I was used to obeying priests every day of my life --

every day.

Do you understand that?

Sister Mary Joseph?

I tried to help her any way I could afterwards.

She wouldn't speak to me.

Eventually, I went to the Church authorities

and complained about Royce.

Didn't mention the rape, for her sake.

But Sister Mary Joseph got pregnant.

Yes, and had to leave the order in shame.

None of it her fault, poor woman.

So Christian Tracey was Father Royce's son.

I may be a coward, but I can keep my mouth shut.

No one knew.

Can you spare one?

Cheers.

You're Eddie Gannon's son, aren't you?

Don't worry.

I won't tell on you.

Started like this myself, actually.

Filthy habit.

I'm Michael, by the way.

You're... Danny?

Peter.

Sorry.

Well, I'd better be off, Peter.

Thanks for the cigarette.

Hey, are you sure I can't offer you a lift home?

Course not.

You're right. Never accept lifts off strangers.

Say hi to your dad for me.

Are you sure, Peter?

Come on. Get in. It's miserable.

You're the first grown-up I've ever met

who listens to Knit Cables.

Well, I liked their first album.

Second one not so much.

Yeah. The second one sucked.

Yeah.

Luna Tracey, Detective Noonan.

Could I have a word, please?

Father Malachy was attacked last night by an unknown assailant.

He told us that you bore Father Royce's child.

I don't have to say anything unless I choose to.

Why would you choose not to?

It's all he talked about, ever since he was a boy --

"Who is my father?"

"A good man," I told him,

"a married man who made me promise on his deathbed

not to reveal his identity."

Christian never completely believed me.

And for a while, he tried hard to find out.

It almost ruined our relationship.

But I knew that telling him would be even worse.

Yes? Can I help you?

Hello, Sister Mary Joseph.

Well, aren't you gonna invite me in?

That's him?

Handsome fella, ain't he?

A chip off the old block.

No. He's not.

I had to see you... to see him.

He doesn't know, does he?

Of course not.

Now, understand...

...I'm dying, Sister,

and I'm not the person I used to be.

Really, I'm not.

I was a selfish man.

Hard. Brutal.

What do you want from me?

Forgiveness and help.

Mom, I'm home.

Please don't.

Mom, what's wrong?

Who are you?

Go to your room. I'll talk to you later.

Go!

Meet me later in our old church.

What happened when you went to see Royce?

I didn't go.

I stayed here.

And so did Christian.

Where's Christian now?

He's at college.

You'll have to come with me to the station

for further questioning, Ms. Tracey.

Justice will visit us all sooner or later.

She was lying about Christian being home that night.

So maybe it's Christian who got into the church that night.

And beheads his own father, who's seeking forgiveness?

Well, it's possible.

Then he goes after Tom Reed,

who held him down when he was being raped,

Father Malachy, who did nothing when his mother was raped.

That only leaves...

Yes?

Come on!

Get in there.

Sit.

Mommy?

What's going on?

Mom, what is going on? I'm scared.

Damn.

What?

I forgot something at the office.

Do you want to go back first?

It's no problem. I'm in no hurry.

Are you sure?

He's not picking up.

I'll try his home.

Call him.

This is Michael Clare.

I can't take your call right now.

Please leave a message, and I'll get back to you.

I don't know where he is.

He always answers his mobile.

Is it him?

No. I don't know. I don't recognize the number.

Answer -- on speaker.

Hello?

Mrs. Clare?

Yes?

This is Jack Taylor. Don't hang up.

Is your husband there? He may be in extreme danger.

Find Michael.

Bring him to me,

or else I slit their throats -- first the wife, then the girls.

If I see the police anywhere near, I'll kill them.

You have 30 minutes.

Christian's holding the family. He wants Michael.

Where the hell do we find him?

His sister. Do you have her number?

Hello?

Where might Michael be

if he's not at the office or at home?

Sorry?

Where does Michael go to be on his own?

Go to the Clares' house.

Stay out of sight and ring me if anything happens.

Jack, he has two little girls in there.

We have to call the Guards.

If Christian Tracey says he'll kill them,

then I believe him.

We need to find Michael.

Then we've got something to bargain with.

Do you work around here?

No.

I just wanted to bring you to a special place first.

Uh, I-I have to go.

Dad will be wondering where I am.

You know, sometimes we have certain feelings

and we don't admit to them.

We're ashamed of them.

Open the door.

When I see someone like you,

I see someone who wants an experience.

Huh?

A special experience...

to make you realize what you've been feeling all along.

What are you on about?

I wouldn't ask you to do anything you don't want to.

I just want to help you along on a road you've chosen yourself.

It's all right, Peter.

You can stop any time you want to, okay?

Good boy.

Peter. Peter.

Peter!

Come back!

Stop it, Peter.

I just want to talk to you, okay?

When Michael comes, he's going to confess

to some ugly things, Mrs. Clare.

Better prepare yourself.

The truth isn't pretty.

He'll make a public statement about his crimes.

His career will be over,

all his pretty little plans out the window.

And you --

Do you want to be married to a pedophile and a rapist?

He's got 15 more minutes --

- Stop! - Put it down.

Put it down. Put it down.

Now!

Where's Michael?

Get over there.

Sit down over there.

Peter.

Peter?

Peter... it's all right.

It's okay.

Where would he be?

There's no need to be afraid.

I know what you're feeling.

I was the same.

It's a strange feeling, isn't it?

On the one hand, it feels good.

And on the other, it feels like...

Please...

Please... don't.

Thing is, Peter, if you contain the monster inside you,

if you can't make it go away --

Michael, what are you doing?

We know you didn't kill anyone.

Christian Tracey did.

And he's threatening to kill your wife and daughters

unless you come with us.

Michael, your wife and kids need you now.

What a sad, fucked-up life you have, Noola.

Michael.

Still obsessed with a brother you can never have.

- Stop. - Always observing.

- Spying. - Stop it.

Filling your home with photos of us.

You could have had a family by now...

been normal.

It's so pointless.

You said it yourself.

You're like the bull.

Doesn't know when to quit.

Even when it's dying, it still goes on,

thinking it can win.

But it never does.

No! Michael!

Michael!

Selfish bastard.

Pick up.

Cody, pick up.

If Michael isn't here in five minutes, she'll go first.

Mother's instinct is strong, isn't it, Christian?

You should know.

Maybe you want to be first.

Was it because of your mother that you killed Father Royce?

You know fuck-all.

I know that your mom protected you.

Maybe you wanted to protect her.

That day when Father Royce came to visit her...

...she finally came clean with you, didn't she?

She told me not to go.

But you had to find out... if you were anything like him.

I had no idea I'd made such a beautiful boy.

I want us to get to know each other, me, you.

You'd be such comfort for an old man.

All those years, she fed me lies about my father.

And now, when she told the truth about Father Royce's abuse...

...about how he raped her, it sounded like a lie.

Your mother never told you how I took her from behind, did she,

or how she screamed or how she bled,

or how much she secretly enjoyed it?

Mom said it wasn't murder.

It was justice.

I just killed the devil.

We've got nothing further to discuss.

I was ready to do it again.

Stand up.

They've done nothing.

Know why Michael and Tom picked me?

I always thought it was just bad luck, but Mom told me.

Class is over, boys.

You're dismissed.

Stop it!

Now, Sister Mary Joseph...

Help me!

If they couldn't take their revenge against Father Royce,

they'd take it against his son.

Stand up.

Stand up!

And turn around.

Please don't hurt them.

Turn around.

Turn around!

No.

Look him in the eye.

I said turn around!

Look him straight in the eye.

You want to be like your father, go ahead and do it.

Shh.

Justice will visit us all sooner or later.

And as a result of the death

of the local businessman Michael Clare,

the recently launched

multibillion-euro dock-redevelopment plan

has been put on indefinite hold.

What do I do?

Come on, Cody. Be a man.

All right, boys and girls. Dublin train leaves in 20.

Get a move on if we're gonna get there before the match starts.

We got you this.

I mean I got you this.

It's extra large.

Maybe it's too big,

but you can always bring it back if you don't like it.

I love it, Cody.

It's great.

Oh, no biggie, Skip.

I wish I had something for you.

Just seeing you wear it will be enough.

Right. We'd better head.

Would you not just try it on?

No rush.

Go on, sir. For luck.

Fuck off, Cody.

I will -- after you try it on.

Happy?

It makes you look kind of fat.

Now you know how it feels.

- Cody? Please. God, no. - Ambulance. Emergency!

Crane, Sea Road -- now!

- What the hell happened? - Don't -- Don't talk.

Don't say anything.

Did I just get shot?

Katherine Noonan calling to report a shooting

outside Crane Bar on the Sea Road.

You'll be okay. Just relax.