Original subtitles

[ Siren wailing ]

[ Laughter ]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

[ Horn honks ]

Aw, geez.

[ Sighs ]

[ Silenced gunshot ]

[ Knocking on door ]

Cody: Jack?

Jack?

Jack, this is important!

Cody, give me a minute,

and then I'll kill you.

Good crack last night?

Probably unforgettable.

Jack, there was a murder last night

near the Spanish Arch.

[ Urinating ]

Young fella got capped in the brains.

No witnesses.

Apparently, the victim's a local lad, a Damian Flood.

Damian Flood?

[ Toilet flushes ]

Isn't that one of Brendan Flood's sons?

Who's Brendan Flood?

Used to be a Guard, a good one, till he got religion.

Right.

I reckon we start by interviewing family.

Then we need to focus on a motive for the murder.

Jack: Easy, Batman.

It's not a charity.

We've got a living to make.

[ Sighs ]

But this looks like a big case.

It could make our names.

"Taylor and Cody crack Galway murder case."

More like "Taylor and Cody

get their heads cracked by the Guards

for butting in to a murder case."

Where are you going?

To make a living.

Jack Taylor.

Maggie McCarthy.

An old, stone building used to stand here.

Magdalen laundry.

One of the clergy's brighter ideas.

If naughty girls clean enough dirty laundry,

some of the detergent's bound to rub off on their sinning souls.

Would you imprison someone for stealing a loaf of bread,

for misbehaving, for being raped?

I'm sorry.

I'm still...

[ Horn honks ]

It's only been a week since we buried our mother.

There's no need to apologize.

It was a relief, really, in the end.

She didn't have an easy life -- Mam.

Manic depression, self-mutilation, violent rages.

Herself and Da eventually broke up.

[ Sighs ]

I moved up north with him.

My brother stayed here with Mam.

When she died,

we thought that there would finally be some closure,

but going through her belongings,

I found an old diary.

I'd never seen it before.

It certainly explained a lot.

Six years she spent in there,

1960 to '66,

and every day was a torture.

It was a bad place.

There was one nun in particular.

Mam never mentions her by name in the diary,

but the girls called her "Lucifer."

Sounds appropriate.

She's the one who took my mother's life.

I want you to find this Lucifer.

Find out who she is.

Will this be enough?

You're paying me to find someone, not bump them off.

You mentioned a diary.

That's private.

I take this case on, nothing is private.

The only thing she left me.

I'll guard it with my life.

That's a promise.

Okay.

[ Smooches ]

I trust you.

Jack: The last time I heard those three words

followed by my name,

a young boy ended up getting killed.

I was in half a mind to run back and shout,

"Lady, don't be a fecking eejit.

Nobody trusts Jack Taylor, and neither should you."

Garda Noonan, I see you have four weeks left

of your probationary period.

That's correct, sir.

Clancy: Well, you've worked hard, extra hours, overtime,

and D.S. Kavanagh has put in a good word for you.

- Has he? - Clancy: And in my view,

you've demonstrated your ability to return to full-time duty,

so I'm reinstating you as and of today.

Thank you, sir.

Clancy: And, Noonan, if you value your career on the force,

stay away from Jack Taylor.

Yes, sir.

Kate.

D.S. Kavanagh.

Dave, please. My name's Dave.

What's the deal with you putting in a good word for me

with Clancy?

Uh...

Kate: What are you after?

I'm not after anything.

So you just did it out of the goodness of your heart.

Look, uh, we got off on the wrong foot.

It was a big case for me, and I was, well, overeager.

In the end, you were right, and I was...

Well, let's just say I don't blame you for what you did.

Anyway, glad to see you back full-time.

Thank you.

What do you know about the Magdalen laundries?

Mad nuns, unhappy girls, tons of washing.

I've seen the film, like.

What's going on, Skip?

I want you to go into church records,

dig up every file you can find on the St. Monica's laundry

in Galway, 1960 to 1966.

They're bound to have a list of nuns who worked there

as well as the girls.

Church records.

Ah, you know, sure, they're worse than the CIA.

They'll never let me into their files.

Well, that's where your clever disguise comes in.

Clever disguise?

Fuck's sake, Cody, make something up.

Young Single Catholic?

Never heard of it.

Ireland's number-one religious website.

Last month, we streamed the Pope's speech

straight from the Vatican.

Streamed?

Ah, bit of a techie yourself, I hear?

At the moment, we're doing a piece

on the religious history of Galway,

which is why I'm here.

You'll have to fill out these forms.

Your application will take three weeks to process.

Could I not look at the files first

and fill out the forms after?

No.

[ Clears throat ]

Father Malachy: [ Coughs ]

Father.

Father Malachy: [ Mutters ]

[ Telephone rings ]

Church records.

Man: [ Coughing ]

Hold on there, you brazen pup, you!

[ Coughs ]

Who are you?

Why are you suddenly our number-one fan?

Fuck you, Jack.

Eloquent as well as handsome.

Whoever you are, lay the fuck off.

Anything broke?

No.

She's fine.

Jack: Gone?

Every record for St. Monica's in Galway

the period 1960 to 1966 vanished.

And the period after that?

I didn't get that far.

And, believe me, they'll let Ian Paisley in there

before I get in again.

Filing disaster or someone protecting Lucifer?

Smells like a conspiracy to me, Skipper.

An early winter smells like a conspiracy to you.

Now, I want you to dig around,

find some of the old Magdalen girls.

One or two are bound to still be around Galway.

Gotcha.

Oh, and, uh, about earlier with your man...

cheers.

[ Gasps ]

Where did you get it?

Traded it from your man, the gardener.

Traded for what?

What do you think?

Did you -- Did you let him touch you?

Don't get sniffy with me, Louise.

You yourself would do anything to get out of here

if you had the chance.

God will have mercy on us.

He'll see us through and get us out.

I'm not waiting around for God to make up his mind.

I'm getting out of here myself.

And how will you do that, Mary?

I'll find someone to marry, become a proper lady,

have a house, have children, and a car.

People will greet me when I walk down the street.

I'll bake cakes for the communion.

I'll go to church every day.

- [ Both laughing ] - What?

Eejits.

[ Laughs ]

Mmm!

Mmm!

Woman: Mother of God.

[ Cane snaps ]

♪ Be Thou my -- ♪

[ Gasps ]

More feeling, girls.

♪ Lord of my heart ♪

♪ Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art ♪

It's no surprise to catch you two whores

engaging in lewd activities,

but poor Louise -- that was a disappointment.

[ Sobs ]

[ Shivering ]

I found the poor creature outside.

She'd probably tried to run away,

then changed her mind and couldn't get back in.

[ Sobbing ]

Jack Taylor.

Nice wheels, Bill.

Have you got insurance for that?

Still chasing lost cats and lost causes, huh?

You know me, Bill, always playing the big-time.

Heard you had a new case.

Jack: News travels fast.

I want you to drop it.

Or else what?

You'll run me over with the wheelchair?

Use your imagination, Jack.

I don't take kindly to threats, Bill.

Maybe it's time you learned, huh?

[ Coughing ]

Oh, and, Jack,

I want that diary.

What diary would that be, Bill?

Casey here has been like a son to me.

What you did to him,

most people would have their faces ripped off.

But you and I go back, Jack,

so I let it slide just this once.

[ Coughing ]

That fella -- I've seen him before.

Bill Cassell.

Runs the drug trade in town.

Cassell. Right.

I've heard stories about him.

He's the one that pushed a guy's face

in the deep fat fryer, right?

Nah. That's a myth.

He never put his face in the fat.

Never believed it anyway.

It was his balls.

[ Laughs ]

Ho ho!

Job interview or -- or are you just trying to impress me?

How'd you get on?

Right. I had a chat with some of the old fellas

living near the laundries their whole lives.

They don't recall any names for the penguins.

Kept to themselves, they did,

had their own little church, own little graveyard,

rarely left the premises.

Right cozy setup.

It seems weird, though.

This nun Lucifer, she'd have lived here for years,

but none of the oldies know who she was or what happened to her.

Wall of silence, Cody.

That's how this country worked.

Right, well, I'll try and track down some of the girls

who were there, but it'll take time.

This case doesn't make any sense.

Why is Bill Cassell, the biggest drug lord in the West,

protecting scum like Lucifer?

Did somebody pay him to?

No. Bill's loaded. He doesn't need the money.

If it's not about money, then what is it about?

Religion?

Yeah, that's it!

Maybe Bill's doing the Church a personal favor.

He helps them to cover for Lucifer's crimes,

and they'll make sure

he doesn't end up in Purgatory for his sins.

Drag your arse back to planet Earth, Cody.

It was just a theory.

Why is Bill after the diary?

Maybe there's something in there

that can reveal Lucifer's real identity.

Something else, something which incriminates Bill personally.

What, a 50-year-old diary?

"What lies behind us and what lies before us

are tiny matters

compared to what lies within us."

What?

Not what, but who.

Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Who?

Oh, forget it.

I'll catch you later.

Woman: [ Sobbing ]

Jack, thanks very much for coming.

I'll just take your flowers.

God knows I've seen too many young people die

in my lifetime,

but this one got me where it hurts.

Ah, Brad and Angelina.

I never thought I'd live to see the day.

What day would that be, Mam?

You in an ironed shirt with a tie.

Is that a compliment I feel sticking from my back?

I try my best.

Your best, Jack, isn't worth a penny.

Useless and worthless, just like your father.

What are you up to, Jack?

Why is your lackey nosing around Church records?

Just brushing up on history.

No worries.

Okay.

Thousand welcomes to you, too.

Taylor.

"Taylor"? What happened to "Jack"?

I'm just off probation,

and Clancy made it very clear that fraternizing with you

could be seriously hazardous to my career.

Ah, the career.

Fuck you, Jack.

My job's very important to me.

It's everything to me.

Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry.

So, any leads?

[ Sighs ]

It was a professional hit, no doubt.

The kid had no criminal connections,

so no reason why anyone should want him bumped off.

Mistaken identities, though.

Most likely.

Wrong place, wrong time.

Woman: Final judgment.

Final judgment. No one can escape. No one.

[ Sighs ] She has a point.

Well, get this over and done with, huh?

[ Indistinct conversations ]

- Seamus. - Jack.

Brendan.

I'm so sorry for your loss, Brendan.

Jack.

Thank you, Jack.

Thanks so much.

[ Sobs ]

Aw, Jesus.

Mrs. Bailey: Dear God!

Jack: I'm sorry, Mrs. Bailey.

Burglars.

I'll pay for the damage.

Hack away, Mr. Taylor.

The insurance will cover it.

You have insurance?

No, but I always wanted to say that.

What on Earth could they have been looking for?

You heading out?

Just about.

Fancy a quick pint?

I'm busy.

Oh.

Some other time, then.

It's Bill's man Casey.

No doubt about it.

Are you bringing formal charges against him for the break-in?

Of course not.

He wouldn't have left any traces.

So why tell me?

Jack: Pull Cassell in for questioning,

rattle his cage a bit.

I need you to keep him off my back for a while,

buy me some time.

You know I can't do that without reasonable cause.

Why? This is Galway, not L.A.

Just make one up.

That what you used to do?

Listen, I put everything on the line for you last time, Jack.

This time, you're on your own.

You missed a bit, dear.

You'll need to do it all over again.

[ Footsteps approaching ]

Happy birthday, Mary Catherine Kerrigan.

[ Sighs ]

[ Echoing ] Happy birthday, Mary Catherine Kerrigan.

Jeff: You all right, Jack?

Jack: Yeah.

Yeah, I'm fine.

Jeff.

Jeff: Yeah, yeah.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

It's impossible, Skip.

All the young girls who used to be in the laundries --

they must have done a runner or something.

I can't find a single one.

Don't worry. I have.

Really?

Who?

I'll handle this on my own, Cody.

[ Horn honks ]

[ Doorbell rings ]

Father Malachy: Ah, Jack.

Didn't recognize you without a pint in your hand.

Was there something you wanted, Jack?

Can't a son visit his own mother?

Never acted the son in all your life.

She never acted the mother.

I've been doing some interesting reading lately.

You always were a devil for the books, like your father.

Well, this book has three main characters in it.

Their names are Geraldine, Louise, and Mary.

That's nice.

The fourth character --

Well, we never find out her real name.

But the girls call her "Lucifer."

That's a shame.

Jack: [ Chuckles ]

After 40 years, finally something we can agree on.

[ Chuckles ]

You called at a bad time, son.

I'm about to turn in.

You can see yourself out, Father.

Good night.

What was her name?

Good night, son.

Jack!

Jack: Why didn't you tell me you were in there?

Why didn't Da?

I know you were in the Magdalens.

Mary Catherine Kerrigan.

The Magdalen girls were there for a reason.

They were whores.

Are you calling me a whore, son?

I never said that.

The nuns did those girls a service by taking them in.

Those whores deserved everything coming to them.

What was her name?

Tell me Lucifer's name.

Get out of my house.

Jack.

Try to understand.

You can't imagine what your mother's been through.

I know exactly what she's been through.

She needs time to get over it.

She's had 50 years.

For some, a lifetime isn't enough.

[ Bells tolling ]

How do I look?

It was nice of them to send someone to see you.

The Taylors are old friends of the family.

Since they live in Galway,

they had to send someone to visit me at least once.

They didn't have to. They could have just left you.

No.

They want to see the Kerrigans' fallen woman and gloat about it.

Geraldine: Do you know who it is that'll be coming?

[ Door opens ]

Wait!

Mr. Taylor, there will be no tobacco,

no alcoholic beverages, and no dancing.

You have one hour.

Father Malachy: All I know is he didn't find out

from Church records.

I removed the Magdalen files years ago.

Nobody noticed 'cause nobody cared.

Besides, all that is so much water under the bridge

right now.

It never goes away, Father.

Do you want me to stay, Mary?

I don't know what my life would have been like

without you, Father.

Since Patrick's passing, you've been like a rock to me.

Nonsense, Mary.

For you, I'd do it.

I think I'd like to be alone, Father.

God bless.

He pulled back the chair for me.

Can you believe it? Me, the sinner?

Sounds like a decent fella, this Paddy Taylor.

Too decent by half. I started to cry

and told him all about how they treat us here.

He nearly fell over.

He had no idea what to do, poor...

Mary!

But he didn't turn tail.

He handed me his hankie, and he agreed to see me again.

Paddy Taylor's gonna be my way out of here, Geraldine.

I'll marry him if it's the last thing I do.

Do you even like him?

He'll do.

He works the railway, smells of oil.

That's not fair on him, Mary.

Fair?

Is this fair?

I'm getting out of here.

I'm having a life if it kills me.

Woman: No talking, girls.

You've been staring at your pint for over an hour.

You coming down with something?

Nothing I didn't already have.

Any good?

Henry James, "Turn of the Screw."

Oh. That's a good one.

My dad was mad for the books.

Cowboy books.

There was always a battered Zane Grey in his jacket.

I had no time for the things myself back then,

but he started passing them on to me,

you know, told me to stick with it.

And for my 10th birthday, he gave me a library card.

I remember the library.

Used to be on top of the courthouse, right?

Books above, court below.

Every time I went in there,

I'd gaze in awe at the Gardaí below,

every day after school.

As soon as I got a few pennies scraped together,

I started buying books of my own.

Jeff: You had this enormous bookcase.

Practically filled one wall.

My dad built that bookcase.

He scrounged leftover timbers, varnished it,

pieced it all together.

Oh, he was no carpenter.

I never saw him making anything with his hands ever again.

But, man, that bookcase.

[ Chuckles ]

It was my very own little library.

And what did Mam say?

"I don't suppose you can tell me how you can eat books.

I'd like to see them books buy a loaf of bread."

Geraldine: "I write to you every week, Mary,

but there's never a reply.

I don't expect one either.

The sisters read all our mail,

and I know Lucifer would never give me the pleasure

of a letter from you,

but I don't care.

Our friendship is stronger than that.

It's stronger than anything.

It's the only thing that keeps me going, dear Mary,

knowing that one day, I will get out of here.

And then I will see you again, I promise."

Jack: When I came back that Christmas, the books were gone.

She'd sold them,

chopped the bookcase up for firewood.

Dad just sat there, his feet in front of the blazing fire,

newspaper in his hands.

It was his way of coping with her.

He never said anything, never got angry.

That night, I walked out.

I never lived in that house again.

Hey!

Geez, Bill, have you stopped taking your vitamins?

You look like shit.

You're not looking so rosy yourself, Jack.

But you're right.

I don't have much time left.

Death on wheels, eh?

I want that diary, Jack.

Over my dead body.

I meant that metaphorically.

Sorry, Casey. Big word.

Aw, come on, Bill.

You're not that stupid.

A gun fired in here would be heard all over the neighborhood.

The Guards would be in here

before you can say "Special Olympics."

Listen, Bill.

[ Gun clicks ]

Jesus fucking Christ, Bill, will you stop that?

Look, I just need time.

Huh? Bill?

[ Gun clicks ]

Fuck's sake, Bill, will you -- will you listen?

You're a lucky man, Jack.

Sure, everybody's luck runs out sometime, huh?

Hey, Bill, come on.

Come on.

[ Gun clicks ]

For fuck's sake, Bill, stop that.

Let's make a deal. Bill.

All right, all right, you can have the bloody diary.

I'll get it for you. I'll get it.

Not as stupid as you look, Jack.

This better be the real deal, Taylor.

What the hell was that about?

Shot, now.

That bad, huh?

Worse.

Fuck it.

I made a promise.

Jeff: What are you doing, Jack?

Something I'll probably regret.

Aw, Taylor, you're gonna die slow.

Left knee, right knee.

[ Grunting ]

[ Gunshot ]

[ Groaning ]

Fuck.

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck.

[ Clattering ]

[ Dog barking ]

[ Silenced gunshot, glass shatters ]

[ Child shouting indistinctly ]

There you go.

Are you all right, Mr. Taylor?

Oh, yeah, I'm grand.

It's -- It's just the usual, Mrs. B.

No, it isn't.

You've been through the wars.

Good, strong coffee would sort you out.

For a start, Mrs. Bailey.

Hey, Mrs. B., could I get some, uh...

What's the story with her?

Why does she never serve me?

Maybe she just doesn't like you.

What's not to like?

Calling her "Mrs. B.," for starters.

Well, that's just a joke.

Shh!

Woman: Good morning, Galway.

There were two murders in the city last night.

A body with gunshot wounds was found in... Lane

off Dominick Street.

The victim has been named locally as Casey Meehan...

Casey. That's Bill Cassell's fella.

The Gardaí are treating the death as suspicious.

In another incident,

the body of a young man in his late teens

was found in a children's play area near the cathedral

in the early hours of this morning.

The victim's name is Lorcan Flood

of 40 Atlantic Heights Salthill.

Asked if there was a connection with the recent murder...

You okay, Skip?

Lorcan Flood would be alive today

if I hadn't been so fecking blind.

There was no way you could have known he might be targeted.

His brother's murder looked like a case of mistaken identity.

Damian Flood's murder was professional, clean, neat.

Professionals don't make beginners' mistakes like that.

If I had my head screwed on straight,

I would have copped on.

I am gonna find whoever did this,

and I'm gonna nail his arse to the wall.

Now, if you want to bail, Cody, do it now.

Kate: Should have expected you to turn up.

I'm like the rain, Noonan.

So, any leads?

Jack, your timing is...

This vagabond bothering you, Garda Noonan?

I heard Clancy had a new lapdog.

Well, the position was vacant after you... left.

I'm sure you've made it your own, D.S. Kavanagh.

My reputation precedes me.

Jack: If you can call it that.

Reputation, I mean.

Kavanagh: Funny guy, huh?

Mr. Saturday Night. That's me.

This is a crime scene, Taylor. Move on.

I'm just chatting with a mate.

You're obstructing the Garda Síochána

from carrying out their duties.

Get a move on.

Come on, Jack.

We got things to do.

Lapdog.

[ Cellphone rings ]

Do you want a cup of tea, Auntie?

Thank you, Seamus.

Seamus.

Jack.

Jack: Brendan.

Brendan: Jack.

Brendan, I'm so sorry.

Brendan: Why, Jack?

They were good lads. They never hurt anyone.

Why, Jack?

I don't know, but I'll find out.

I swear to you, I will find out.

Brendan: [ Voice breaking ] God's punishing us.

What sin have we committed?

Why is he punishing us?

You haven't done anything.

Brendan: What if Seamus is next?!

I know he's next! I can feel it!

What can I do, Jack? How can I stop it?!

I won't let that happen.

[ Sobbing ]

Jack.

Love to stay and discuss the weather,

but I am late for me yoga class.

Your mother wants to see you.

She'll have to stand in line.

You'll be the death of her, Jack.

Can I have that in writing?

It's about the -- the thing you mentioned the other night.

Jack: What do you want?

You mentioned Geraldine last night.

That's right.

Is she still --

No, no. She's gone.

How?

She took her own life.

Did she...

Did she have a family?

She married,

had a son and a daughter.

Good.

They, uh, didn't have a good time of it.

No.

None of us did.

Being in there, I can't imagine what that must have been like.

Do you ever shave, son?

[ Children laughing ]

Mary: Here. Take it.

[ Chuckles ] And these.

I won't be needing these.

Don't worry about me. I'll be grand.

Why aren't you in the laundries, Geraldine?

Sister Imelda gave me permission, Sister.

I'm sorry.

I don't have a farewell present for you, Mary Catherine.

That's all right, Sister.

But I'll think of something.

Isn't that funny, now?

If I caught you with tobacco last week, Mary Catherine,

well, you know the punishment.

But you'll be a married woman soon.

It's time you were treated as a grown-up, eh?

Sure, go on.

Thank you, Sister.

Thank you, Sister.

Inhale deeply now.

There's a good girl.

Go on. Don't be afraid.

Enjoy it.

[ Exhales sharply ]

You think you're getting away, don't you?

I know your plan.

You'll get married,

have a house, have children,

and you'll make sure there's nothing ever to remind you of me

or of your time in here.

Maybe.

But, you see, I'll always be with you,

because you let me in here.

And that's where I'll stay.

Now, about that farewell present...

- Aah! - [ Sizzling ]

[ Sobbing ]

Grow up so fast, don't they?

What have you got?

Same M.O. as the earlier murder.

Single bullet, back of the head.

Preliminaries suggest they came from the same gun.

No shit, Sherlock. I could have told you that.

Obviously, the first murder

wasn't a case of mistaken identity.

Neither boy had any criminal connections.

But the boy's father, Brendan, is an ex-Garda.

Plenty of criminals he's put away who could bear grudges.

So most likely, someone's trying to get back at Brendan Flood.

They've succeeded at that.

So far, no leads, no fingerprints,

no DNA traces, nothing.

There's got to be something.

There's always something.

You know what, Jack? There is.

Not for this particular murder.

What you on about, Noonan?

There was another murder that night.

You hear about that?

Vaguely.

Casey Meehan, known associate of local drug lord Bill Cassell.

Single gunshot wound to the heart.

Ah, gang wars, huh?

This was found close to the body.

A button from an old-style Garda greatcoat,

the kind they don't make anymore.

What the fuck were you thinking, Jack?

Now, listen, Kate, it's a long story.

Try me.

Come on!

Yes! Thank you!

Whoo! [ Laughs ]

Why didn't you turn yourself in right away,

show you had nothing to hide?

Oh, come on, Kate.

You know as well as I do that Clancy will crucify me

given half a chance.

Anyone found out you had a sealed Garda evidence bag

in your pocket,

you'd be suspended on the spot.

Don't you think I know that?

So, what should I do, Jack,

put the evidence back where it belongs, lose it?

If I'm caught, I'll never work as a Guard again, ever.

Do your duty.

Hand it in.

But give me two days.

Give me 48 hours.

Just give me that.

You'll get 36.

Cody: Chuck us the ball there, will you?

I thought we were all on the same team here.

[ Breathing heavily ]

Hey, Jack, I know this great little pizza place

on Dominick Street.

Birds love it.

What?

You and the Rose of Tralee over there.

I've seen you two check each other out.

"Check each other out"?

First of all, Noonan is young enough to be my daughter,

and second of all, she's a royal pain in the arse.

Must be love, so.

Gobshite.

Fuck me.

They've got witnesses to both the Flood murders.

Find out everything you can.

There's bound to be someone who saw something.

Got it.

Cody, work fast.

Right, Skipper.

Oh, and just one question.

Huh?

Galway United are playing next Friday.

I thought maybe we could, you know...

What?

Uh, no rush.

You don't have to decide now or anything.

You're probably busy Friday anyway.

Yeah.

Right. I'm off.

[ Drill whirring ]

Mrs. Bailey, what are you doing?

You wait weeks for tradesmen these days.

Now, I know how precious you are about your books,

so I left them for you to sort.

[ Sighs ] You -- You really didn't have to.

I found that on the floor while clearing up.

[ Doorbell rings ]

Hello.

Clearing up is he.

I'll get him for you.

Ah, there you are.

Mr. Taylor, have you any news?

[ Sighs ]

Mrs. McCarthy, I'm sorry. This'll have to wait.

You found her, haven't you?

It may be nothing.

I'll have to check it out first

and get back to you in the morning.

I'm coming with you.

I don't think that's a good idea.

I do.

Number 24.

Thank you, Mr. Taylor.

You've done what I asked.

Your job is done.

It's only just starting.

[ Doorbell rings ]

Yes?

Miss Monroe, my name is Maggie McCarthy.

This is Jack Taylor.

May we have a word?

Monroe: What about?

Maggie: It would be better to discuss inside.

Step in.

What's this about?

It's about my mother, Geraldine.

I don't know any Geraldine.

St. Monica's Magdalen Laundry, 1960 to 1966.

I'm afraid my memory isn't what it used to be.

I'm forgetful these days.

My mother wanted to forget, but she couldn't,

and in the end, the weight of those memories was too much.

I'm afraid I can't help you.

Can't or won't?

Was it a sexual kick?

Excuse me?

Torturing those girls,

did you get a sexual kick out of it?

You were married to God, but, sure, let's face it,

he's no great shakes in the sack, is he?

You hated those girls 'cause they had something you didn't --

love, loyalty, sex.

That's what you wanted to destroy.

Mr. Taylor, please!

How many lives did you ruin?

Did you keep tally?

Have you got a little black ledger somewhere

that keeps you warm on cold winters' evenings?

You want to kill me.

I can see it in your eyes.

Don't tempt me, bitch.

It would be a relief.

I always knew my day of reckoning would arrive,

that he would punish me for my sins.

But I never thought it would happen this way.

My nephews.

You're right, Mr. Taylor.

I never did care for anyone.

These boys were different.

They were special.

I had no sons of my own,

and they gave me something to live for

after I left the Magdalens.

Now God is punishing me

by taking them away from me.

Bathing me in the blood of innocents,

leaving me with nothing.

[ Chuckles ]

You want to kill me.

I want to die.

Mr. Taylor.

Mr. Taylor!

What do you intend to do about her?

I know what it's like to lose someone.

First, Mam dies,

and now my brother's in hospital with cancer.

You only need to take one look at that woman's face

to know she's living her punishment.

You mean you're not gonna do a thing?

No. And neither will you.

[ Dog barking ]

What the hell is that?

You look so long in the face,

I thought you might fancy trying something new.

[ Clears throat ]

So, this, uh -- this psycho penguin

is related to the murder victims?

It makes you think whoever killed those boys

was not out to get Brendan Flood, but Rita Monroe.

Revenge for the Magadalens?

But who?

Maggie McCarthy?

No. These murders are too calculated.

There's a cold heart behind them.

I turned up feck all from witnesses to the Flood murders,

but I finally found a list

of some previous inmates of the Magdalens.

A few are still living in Galway.

Good work, Cody.

One of these is behind it all. I'm sure of it.

Now, talk to them, get a sense of who they are,

how deep their hate runs.

Right, Skip.

Jeff, we got a troublemaker in the no-smoking zone.

It's your mother, Jack. She's had a stroke.

The right side of her body and her face are paralyzed.

She hasn't recovered her speech.

She's been disarmed, so.

Only time will tell

whether she will make a full recovery or not.

You're welcome to go in.

Mam?

I got your message.

Thanks.

[ Groaning ]

You want some?

I got it.

Aw, look at you.

[ Mutters ]

She can't hear you.

She never did.

[ Horn honking ]

[ Doorbell rings ]

So, what I wanted to ask you about specifically,

Mrs. Connell,

was time you spent, um, in St. Monica's Laundry

and experiences you might have had while you were there.

Um, one name that's been popping up

from the head nuns who was there

who was known, um, by the name of "Lucifer."

She was so cruel.

People getting their heads shaved and beaten

and deprived of food, and it was just...

Evil, vindictive.

She'd take her shoe off, and she'd wallop you.

You didn't question the Church.

They'd be pulled out of their beds in the middle of the night

and dragged down --

It's the eyes that stay in my memory --

the cold, black, no emotion.

[ Speaking indistinctly ]

No, I shouldn't remember.

[ Sobs ]

Can I have one of those?

Christ, those poor women.

I won't sleep a wink for days.

Any of them calculated enough to bump off Rita's nephews?

Well, they all have plenty of anger and plenty of hate,

but they've moved on.

No, I don't think so.

This is bullocks, Cody.

We're missing something, something obvious.

Ahh.

How is she? I mean your mum.

Doing jigs and reels.

She's had a stroke. What do you think?

You want to talk about it?

I'm an Irish male.

I've got one coping mechanism -- repression.

You're a trouper, lad.

Go home. Get some sleep.

See you in the morning, Tom.

[ Door closes ]

[ Knock on door ]

This official or social?

We agreed to 36 hours. You still have 10 left.

No, thanks. I'm on duty.

Brendan Flood's house is under police guard.

You dropped in for a friendly visit?

I heard about your mam, Jack. I'm sorry.

Bad things happen to you when you get old.

[ Train whistle blows ]

I ever tell you about my dad?

He was an accountant -- not very good one.

Thing I remember most about him is he had five suits,

all identical,

and he took the same train to work every morning,

8:05 from Athenry to Galway.

Anyway, he worked without promotion till he was 50.

Mam nagged him ferociously.

Then, when I was 9, he lost his job due to drink.

Mam lost the rag, kicked him out.

So he took his suits,

he moved out...

...and he stepped in front of the 8:05.

Mam withered away.

She missed the muck.

She loved him, 'cause she had no one left to hate.

She got cancer and, uh, dropped five stone in a month.

Jack?

Jack, are you even listening to me?

Christ.

Kate: Oh, I'm sorry for cutting in on your drinking time.

[ Telephone rings ]

Hello.

Jack: Maggie, it's Jack Taylor.

Jack.

[ Sighs ] What do you want?

Your mother's full name -- what is it?

Maggie: Geraldine Joann McCarthy.

I mean her maiden name.

Cassell. Why?

And your brother, the one in hospital with cancer --

his name's Bill, isn't it?

Maggie: Yes.

When my parents separated, he took my mam's side,

stayed here in Galway with her, took her last name.

Do you know Bill?

We used to go to school together way, way back.

Oh.

He took a turn for the worse yesterday.

He's in intensive care.

They say he doesn't have long.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Maggie: Bill doesn't have many friends left.

Maybe seeing an old schoolmate might bring him some comfort.

Consider it done.

Bill Cassell?

Yes. Are you family or friend?

A friend, definitely.

[ Wheezing ]

Bill, what's the crack?

You didn't think they were for you, did you?

You were a dead man, Taylor. [ Coughs ]

And you are?

[ Coughs ]

Casey was a good boy.

He was gonna take over for me.

He was like a son.

Speaking of family, Bill,

I'm just after having a chat with your sister.

Your mam was everything to you, wasn't she?

But she was damaged goods.

You always blamed your da,

but after she died, you and your sis found her old diary,

and you realized there was only one person to blame --

Lucifer.

What would you have done, Jack, if it had been your mother?

It took awhile, but I found her.

Dying was too good for Rita Monroe.

If you really want to torture somebody,

make them suffer,

then take away what they love the most.

Her nephews, the Flood boys.

You had me fooled, Bill.

Thought you were trying to protect Lucifer.

But the real reason was you didn't want me digging around,

finding a connection between you and Rita Monroe.

[ Coughs ]

Most of all, you didn't want your sweet, innocent sister

finding out the monstrous revenge her brother was taking.

Maggie is a good woman.

She knows I'm not exactly an angel,

but I didn't want her tainted by any of this.

She had a mind of her own,

wanted to find Lucifer same as you.

Only you were one step ahead of her

and had Casey do your dirty work.

Not Casey.

I didn't want him involved.

I hired a fella from Dublin.

He was my sword of vengeance.

Vengeance being the murder of two innocent boys.

Two? [ Laughs ]

I hired him to do all three.

I'm expecting good news any minute, Jack.

And when the third Flood boy is gone, it'll be your turn.

You'll pay as well, Jack!

[ Coughing ]

[ Indistinct conversation ]

So, finally get to have that drink with you.

Cozy place you picked.

Not up to your high standards, D.S. Kavanagh?

The first rule about making tea --

never use tea bags.

Always leaves.

You scald the pot thoroughly before pouring the water in,

allow it to fuse for five minutes,

and never, ever [chuckles]

pour milk in after.

[ Laughs ]

Jack, what's going on?

Jack.

Yeah, no, I can't sleep.

I just don't want to be awake.

[ Cellphone rings ]

Hello.

Kate, call for backup.

He's coming...

[ Static hisses ]

What? I can't -- You're breaking up.

Someone's coming for Seamus.

[ Groans ]

Hello?

Oh, my God. Is he okay?

Jack? Jack?

Christ, Jack.

I didn't see him.

- Problem? - Bad line.

[ Siren wailing ]

Cody: Jack?

Jack?

No, don't move!

An ambulance is coming.

How long was I out?

Seconds.

We need to get to Brendan Flood's house now!

You drive!

[ Engine turns over ]

That's my car.

[ Door creaks ]

Brendan: It's just Seamus.

I'll go and check.

[ Footsteps approaching ]

Seamus?

It's all right, son.

Just checking.

You don't need to keep checking on me, Dad.

I'm fine.

Wait, wait, wait. It's Jack.

Kavanagh: What the hell is he doing here?!

Kate: Jack, wait!

Taylor!

No, stay back. He's got a gun.

Jack: Where is he?!

Man: Police!

Put down your weapon!

Taylor?

[ Monitor beeping ]

[ Cellphone rings ]

[ Alarm beeping ]

[ Flatline ]

Thank you.

Thank you for coming, Jack.

Bill would have appreciated it.

Don't know about that.

Man: Maggie.

Rita Monroe's funeral.

She was found dead in her house the same night that Bill died.

A strange kind of justice.

He hated her.

You knew about that?

When we found the diary, it was all he could think about.

The rage was choking him.

I needed to find Rita Monroe before he did.

I knew what Bill was capable of.

But at least he died with a clear conscience.

Let their hatred be buried with them.

Thank you.

Jack: Not doing double duty?

May that Magdalen bitch rot in hell.

That's not very Christian of you, Father.

Neither was what she did to your mother.

Jack: One way or another,

we all end up paying for our sins.

Geraldine: Is -- Is your mother home?

Paddy: Who is it, Jack?

Good morning.

May I help you?

Are you from the housing site?

I'm sure we could spare a few eggs and milk

if you wait a moment.

Jack, go on, little boy.

Mary: Who is it, Paddy?

[ Chuckles ]

Can I do something for you, miss?

Paddy: She's from the housing site.

Jack's fetching some eggs.

That won't be necessary.

This girl has the wrong house.

Mary.

This is a family of good standing.

There's no place for girls like her here.

Paddy: Now, hang on a second, Mary.

Stop whining, Paddy, and get back inside.

Now!

[ Door opens ]

Good boy. There you go.

Go on, go on.

Go on, Jack.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Bring back anything with an umbrella in it, you're dead.

How's your mum?

Silent, for once.

You haven't gone to see her?

I was busy getting shot.

I was busy myself, doing my duty.

Something you're not familiar with.

It might not effect what my duty is,

but I know what your duty is

as a sworn member of the Garda Síochána.

The 36 hours you gave me have been up for a while now.

I can count.

Processing evidence,

matching up prints on the button with mine

takes no more than a few hours.

Wow.

With that kind of reasoning, I'm amazed you never made super.

Well, to make super,

you got to play by the rules, like you, Kate.

Who says I do?

Man: Kate, you're up.

Duty calls.

[ Irish folk music plays ]

♪ The water is wide ♪

♪ I can't cross o'er ♪

♪ And neither have I wings to fly ♪

♪ Give me a boat that can carry two ♪

♪ And both shall row, my love and I ♪

♪ Love is gentle, and love is kind ♪

♪ The sweetest flower when first it's new ♪

♪ But love grows old and waxes cold ♪

♪ And fades away like morning dew ♪

♪ And fades away like morning dew ♪

[ Applause ]

[ Whistling ]

Mam.

It's me.

Your son.