All language subtitles for Inside.Man.S01E03.1080p.HDTV.H264-ORGANiC

This programme contains
some strong language

and some scenes which some
viewers may find upsetting.

This programme deals with Suicide.

Sorry to have kept you.

A bold admission
from a prison warden.

CHAIR SCRAPES Busy?

Oh, they let me bring my work.

I hope that's OK.
Oh, it's fine, yeah.

I have news for you.

News?

We have a date.

For what?

You.

Oh!

♪ You may run home
for a long time

♪ Run home for a long time

♪ You may run home for a long time

♪ I tell you, God Almighty's
gonna cut you down

♪ Great God Almighty's
gonna cut you down

♪ Go tell that long—tongued liar

♪ Go tell that midnight rider

♪ Tell the gambler, the rambler
the back—biter

♪ Tell them God Almighty's
gonna cut 'em down

♪ Great God Almighty's
gonna cut 'em down

♪ Great God Almighty's
gonna cut 'em down. ♪

You all right?

You need a moment?

So... the 17th?

Three weeks from today. Yes.

You OK?

Are you asking if I'm available?

I now have to brief you
on the exact procedure on the day.

Why?

Don't I have the easy part?

At the very least,
I get to finish early.

Go ahead.

On the day before your execution,

you will be moved
from your current cell

to a holding cell next to...
A holding cell?

Yes.

As opposed to what kind of cell?

Prior to leaving your current cell,

you'll have the opportunity
to clear your belongings.

They don't call it a holding cell,
do they?

Nobody does.

They call it the Death House.

♪ I know

♪ The sun's about to come up

♪ I close my eyes anyway

♪ My mouth is dry
and the sheets are cold

♪ And we'll be still
come break of clay

♪ You call me up
just to surprise me

♪ To hear my voice
See what I'd say

♪ I only whispered then hung up

♪ A whisper
Wait till break of clay

♪ At the break of day... ♪

This has to go to the police.
There are children being abused.

I'm literally
the only person in the world

who can help you get away
with my murder.

♪ But I will share it
with whatever bird will wear it

♪ On her body bare and pink

♪ Now, what do you think

♪ On break—up clay? ♪

Did you sleep?

No. No, of course you didn't.

You were working at your computer.
I heard you.

Yeah. You were printing
something out.

Lots of things. Yeah.

Not just making random
observations,

I'm asking, what were you doing?

It has to be convincing.

What does? I do.

There's all this stuff
on my hard drive.

Edgar's porn.
I downloaded a bit more.

More?! He had some links.
Found some more material online.

Oh, Jesus.

I printed out a few.

A few... Yeah.

Images.

Put them in my safe. Like they
were hidden, like I'd been hiding.

Why? To be convincing.

I have to be absolutely
convincing. No point otherwise.

Can you think of anything else
I should be doing?

You're destroying yourself.

I'm saving Ben.

Me, as well.

You're destroying both of us.

Here's how I think it will go.
Did you hear me?

Both of us.

We release Janice in about an hour.

Let's give it an hour, yeah? Why?
What difference does an hour make?

Breakfast?

It'll be my last one.

Our last one.

Our last normal breakfast
here together.

Once Janice is free,
she'll go straight to the police.

I think that's inevitable.
Of course she bloody will.

The police will come here and Ben...

...will have an uncomfortable
interview.

Do you think?!
When they investigate further,

they'll find nothing
on his computer.

They'll find plenty on mine.

They will have no trouble believing
that a vicar

who has just assaulted a woman
and locked her in a cellar

is also a paedophile.

It's everything people
want to believe about vicars.

And how can you just be OK
with this?

Why don't we just give Edgar
to the police?

I tried. I can't.

He's a vulnerable person.
I have a duty to protect him.

It's the only right thing to do,
so I'm doing it.

I'm doing the right thing.
I have to do the right thing.

I'm a fucking vicar.

And a husband, and a father.

But, oh, now it's all about
that halfwit fairy tale

you pretend to believe every Sunday.

You think I'm pretending?

The thing about
that halfwit fairy...

No, don't. I don't care.

It's the only religion in the world
where God dies at the end.

People say they're Christians.

But you know what?

You never see them
nailed to anything.

Darling, he doesn't die.
He comes back.

That's the hope.

That's the fairy tale.

And Jesus didn't have kids.

Hello.

Me? It mentioned me?

What does it say?

Well, no, no, I didn't.
No, of course not.

I... I understand.
Of course, yes.

Sure.

Two o'clock's fine, yeah.

OK.

OK. Bye.

Who was that?

Edgar's dead.

Hanged himself last night.

But... But you were... That was the
police. They want to talk to me.

But you were with him last night.

He left a note.

And it mentions me.

What? I'm mentioned in the note.

What does it say?

I need to speak to Janice.
You need to speak to me.

I am speaking to you,
and I need to speak to Janice.

Harry!

Is it your fault?
Is what my fault?

That he hanged himself.

I...

I want to die!
Why do they have to stop me?

I want to die.

I don't have time
to think about that.

All right?

Did you manage to sleep?

Something's happened.

It's funny how good you get
at reading faces

when your life depends on it.

Last night, my verger —.

The man I told you about, Edgar,

the one who, in fact,
owned the material you saw,

took his own life.

And he left a note.

What did it say?

If the note is...

...basically confessional in nature

it might clarify...
What did the note say?

I don't know.
The police are coming to talk to me.

Two o'clock.

This could be over at that point.

COULD be.

I don't care what you tell anyone
about me.

Er...

Tell them everything.
That I assaulted you,

I locked you up. All of it.
All I care about is that Ben

isn't blamed for something
that is nothing to do with him.

Everything here is my fault.

What about the agreement?

What agreement?

What we talked about.

Our agreement, between you and me.

Er, we... we never had any.

It's been a long night.

I'm confused, OK?

I'm scared.

I don't even really know
what I'm saying.

The police are coming,
two o'clock today.

If the note is what I think
it has to be,

then this whole nightmare
could be over.

And I'm sorry. I'm sorry
for all of it. OK.

OK. What we have to do now,
we have to be calm.

What did she mean, agreement?

I don't know.
She's confused, I think.

You making more coffee?

Yeah. No. Tea.

I'll make it. It's fine.

I'll do it. I'll bring it out
to you in the garden.

I think there's a chance
this will be OK.

We might have been given a way out.

If the note is a confession...

...then I really think this is over.

Go and sit in the garden.

Dad? Oh.

Are you OK?

Fine. Sorry.

Just forgot that I live here?

You're up early.

Going to Lucy's before school.
Why?

Because she's my girlfriend,
and I like to seem caring.

She's into that.

Um, did Janice come back?

Why would Janice come back?
Well, she left her handbag.

I could take it to her.

Things got weird yesterday.
I'd like a chance to be non weird.

No, she came back for her handbag.
She picked it up.

You said she didn't come back.
Yeah. I forgot.

She was just in and out.
Your mum spoke to her.

OK.

You eating here tonight?

Probably. I think your mum
would like something

a bit more emphatic.

I said probably.

You all right?

I'm a rubbish flyer myself.

I'm fine with flying.

I just didn't expect to be picked up
by a police officer.

Well, there's a bonus for you.

How do you know him? You couldn't
have worked on his case.

Why not? It was in America.

His wife is from Surrey.
So you did work on his case?

No, just pointing that out.

Look in the glove box.

From Mr Grieff. You might want
to familiarise yourself.

Do police officers usually
carry cans of mace?

Oh, that's not for me.

Who's it for?
Anyone who wants it.

Do you want it?

No. Good, then.

So Grieff wants me picked up from
the airport and he calls you?

What's your point?

Why is an English police officer

taking orders from an American
murderer on death row?

I'm not English.

Also, I'm not a police officer.

Coffee?

You coming? Who are you?

Call me Morag. Is it your name?

If you like.

Bring your homework, and the mace...

...if you're feeling nervous.

They'll take you to the holding
cell — you know, the Death House —.

And you'll spend your last night
there. On the morning

of the big event,
they'll give you a chance

to make a written statement and
meet with members of your family.

Yeah, I know.

The warden briefed me.

Yeah, but you probably weren't
concentrating cos, you know,

you're going to die in three weeks.

I still am.

You've had time to adjust.

I've had four hours.

Four hours is a lot of time
when you only have three weeks.

How do you know all this stuff?

Photographic memory.

No. I mean when did you
first hear it?

When I was executed.

Dillon... I know
what you're going to ask.

Yeah, there is a question
that's kind of springing to mind.

Why am I still alive?

Oh, there it is.

Buddhism.

OK. Buddhism. I'm a Buddhist.

I converted in my first year.

OK, you're a Buddhist.

You see, back then,
when I was executed... Dillon.

Yeah? Point of order. Mm—hm?

You were not executed.

Yeah, but back then,
you were allowed a faith person,

like a priest or whatever,
in the chamber with you. You know,

when they... moved you on.

But they didn't have legislation
for a Buddhist.

They had rabbis and priests
and whatnot, but no Buddhist.

I was two hours away from being
executed without the comfort

of a qualified Buddhist
touching my foot.

Your foot? That's all they're
allowed to touch, your foot.

Why? Well, priests,

and you know what I'm saying.

Take it from a former altar boy.

Priests need limits.

OK. Thank you.

Why haven't I told you this before?

We don't share much, do we?

I don't like you.

Oh, yeah. Forgot about that.

Yeah.

I must be very stupid.

Why?

The card you showed me was fake,
yeah? Not fake, no.

I mean, not mine.

I mean, man's name, man's photo.

I wasn't even trying that hard.

How did I not notice?

No—one ever does.
They're too busy thinking,

"Oh, no, it's the police."
Where did you get it from?

Well, from a police officer —.

That's pretty much the only option.

How?
Took it right out his pocket.

Didn't notice a thing.

Which may have been because

I'd just smashed his head
all over the pavement.

And why did you do that?

He turned his back on me.
Didn't consider me a threat.

SHE SCOFFS Everyday sexism.

OK. OK. So you're...

Actually, what are you?

I think we can safely say I'm a
criminal with a history of violence.

Oh, great. Mainly into housebreaking
these days.

Time of life.
Prefer to work indoors.

So why would Grieff want you,
of all people,

to pick me up from the airport?

He wanted you kept safe. He's got
a funny idea of how to do that.

He strangled his wife to death
and mutilated her corpse.

So, yeah, he has.

You read about the mutilation,
right?

He didn't just strangle her.

He mutilated her afterwards.

You know about that?

They kept a lot of it
out the papers.

I think they were still hoping
to find it.

Her head.

I think they were still hoping
they could find her head.

It was mentioned
in the trial coverage,

but people had lost interest
by then.

So that's who
you were sitting next to.

Not a man who lost his temper once —.

A man who hacked his wife's head off
after she was dead,

and hid it,

and won't say where it is.

Oh, he's clever.

And he loves
solving his little puzzles

and talking to little girls like you
about atonement.

But the truth is —
And don't you forget this —

Jefferson Grieff is, was
and always will be a monster.

I know about the head.

I'm not a little girl,
I'm a fucking journalist.

I read everything.

Good, then.

All yours, Mr Grieff.

Thank you, Morag.

Morag just wanted to know
that you were —.

How shall I put this? —.

That you were clear
on my... moral status.

Do you feel clear?
I've always been clear.

That was my impression.
You disgust me.

What you did disgusts me.

I'm in this because of my friend,

and I'm starting to wonder why
I don't just go to the police.

When you leave a phone message
for Janice,

does she get back to you right away?
No, never. It can be clays.

OK. Then, by all means,
go to the police.

But it will be a long time
before they have a legitimate reason

to consider her missing.

Fair point.

OK. When you meet for coffee,
is it always you who suggests it?

Yeah.

And does she always
take a while to reply?

Usually. Looking at her Facebook,

she clearly has minimal
social contact.

I mean, she's currently resisting
the approaches of a personable

young woman who's taking
a flattering interest in her.

Basically... Janice
doesn't make friends.

See the problem?

Well, no.

How can there be anyone
who hates her enough to harm her

if she doesn't have friends?

You have a very strange view
of friendship.

So does Janice.

It could have been someone random.

She could have had an accident.

Yeah, but most of the time,
what happens to people

is other people,

and almost always
people they know.

So let's work on that assumption,
shall we?

Now, if she's alive —.

IF she's alive — she's trapped.

And if she's trapped,

what is she doing right now?

How would I know?
Well, you know her.

She's clever, but afraid.

I think this is a woman
who understands.

And what she understands,
above all, is other people.

Why do you say that?

Because she avoids them.

All it takes to turn
any human being into a hermit

is a keen sense of smell.

I think if you had
a woman like that trapped,

helpless, fierce, clever,

back to the wall, without hope,

I think you could be in for
a lot of trouble.

The police will be here shortly.

I'd like you to hear what they say.

I'd like that, too.

We're working on something.
We have an idea.

You must be terrified.

Why do you say that?
Police in your house

while you've got a woman
locked up in the cellar.

Well, it's not like
they'll be searching the place.

Promise me something.

What?

I'm very scared.
I'd like you to make me a promise.

What promise?
That door's very thick —

I can't hear anything
from down here. OK.

W—What I'm saying is,
I don't think you need to gag me.

Even if I shouted,
I don't think they could hear.

I couldn't bear it.
I'm already chained up.

I'm already pissing myself.

I don't even feel human.

Harry, don't please gag me.

You're right about that door.

I've been down here yelling
my lungs out. So don't gag me.

Please don't. I won't gag you.

Thank you, Harry.

Just... don't shout.
Don't do that again.

No, I won't shout, on my life.

Mary will be with you anyways.

Yeah, she'll keep me in line.

OK. We're just
figuring something out.

Mary will join you
before the police arrive.

Thanks, Harry.

Fuck!

In here?

I think so.

I suppose we need to do it this way.

Yeah, we do.

She has to hear it.

Shelf.

I need something
to put in front of it.

This. Oh, yes. Good.

OK?

OK.

They're here.

Harry's going to talk to them
in his study.

We listen down here.

Oh, I've taped up
the microphone, just, you know...

In case I say anything
and they hear me.

Yeah.

What happened?

Oh, it's nothing.

Your face! Yes.

I—It's nothing.

You're bleeding!
Harry didn't hurt me.

Harry wouldn't do that.

Neither would I.

He's not like that, Harry.

You said you hated him.

We're always falling out.

You know what we're like.

But he would never hurt me.

Why not?

He just...

Well, he wouldn't.

What happened to your face?

I hurt myself sometimes
when I'm stressed —.

It's just, you know, a thing.

Harry knows about it.

He never mentioned it.
Well, he wouldn't, it's personal.

He doesn't usually
keep secrets from me.

I'm sure he only keeps mine.

You should gag me.

I'm sorry? The police are here.

You should gag me
in case I start shouting.

Why are you suggesting that?
Because I might panic and, if I do,

you might... I—I just don't want to
panic, that is all.

Nobody could hear you down here
anyway.

I know, but I'm not completely
rational at the moment,

and I'm nervous that, if I shout out
for help, I might provoke you.

But I—I'm not.

I'm not... You are contemplating
whether or not you have to kill me.

I think you're capable
of hitting me.

Would you like some tea?

I've just boiled the kettle anyway.

That would be lovely.
Just milk in mine. And mine.

Thanks, Harry.

Well, he's the vicar.
Everybody knows the vicar.

Everyone knows Harry.

You gave him the password
to your email account

so he could cancel the Skype call?

Yes.
You suggested the same thing to me.

Yes.

But you said you'd only give me
the password if I did something

for you in return.

Yes.

The trouble with you, Janice...

...is, because you're clever,

you think everybody else
is stupid.

You're playing us.

I'm now supposed to waste time
worrying about what my husband's

doing for you he's not telling me
about, right?

It's up to you what you
choose to worry about, Mary.

If Harry's right,

there could be a way
out of this, for all of us.

That's all I want.

A way out, with nobody hurt.

Well, it's all that I want.

Then listen. Just listen. Please.

There we go. Thank you.

So...

So very sad about Edgar.

Yes, very sad. Poor Ed.

He was always very troubled, Edgar.

Not his first attempt, I'm afraid.

We're aware.

So...

...he left a note.

As I told you, yeah.
And the note mentions me.

As I said on the phone.

What did it say?

Can I just ask, sorry?

When I said that on the phone,
you seemed surprised.

Well,

anyone'd be surprised to be
mentioned

in someone's suicide note.
Wouldn't you?

No. I mean,

not if I was the last person
to see them alive.

Well, yes. I'd be more sort
of worried.

I'd be thinking, "Oh, what did I
say?"

"Was it something I said?"
I am worried, obviously.

Obviously. I can see you're worried.
I am, yeah.

Yes. But why?

I mean, specifically —
What did you say?

Oh, look, someone very close to
me...

...someone whom I felt responsible
for has just died.

Has just taken his own life.
So forgive me if I'm not...

...quite myself.

Of course. Of course. Sorry. Yeah.

I would like, if you don't mind,
to know what he said about me

in his note. Are you able to tell me
that? Yeah.

Yeah, that's why we're here.

So you say.
Specifically why we're here.

Do you have the...?

So what WERE you talking about?

Well, it's personal.

Oh, of course.

Yeah. I think it's in the blue bit.

I know. With the pocket. I know.

Was it amicable?

I'm sorry?
Your conversation with Edgar.

Well, it was... erm...

Yeah.

I'd say it was, yeah, broadly.

Broadly amicable?

Yes. Good.

Yeah.

It was just hard to tell
from the angle.

Angle?
The CCTV footage wasn't clear.

It's never very clear.
I don't know why we use it.

What footage? Just some footage.

You and Edgar in the street.

You were in the car, he got in the
car. Nothing very much.

Oh, right. Yeah. We were just trying
to establish Edgar's movements

after you collected him
from the pub.

Why did you do that, by the way?

Look...

...I don't know how much
you know about Edgar...

Oh, nothing.

Well... complicated story.

As I say, he has a troubled history.

He has...

"arm..."

How shall I put it? Erm...

Erm, he has had, erm...

...certain...

...compulsions, ones he was trying
to control.

And I was...

I was... trying to help him.

Did he contact you
last night to talk?

Yes. We'll have to talk to his
mother, she's very confused.

Confused?

She said you came to the door
looking for him and she directed

you to the pub where he was drinking
with friends.

He left a message earlier
and I assumed that I was meeting him

a—a—at his house.

Was he upset when he left
the message?

He was clearly anxious and... had
things he wanted to discuss.

Upsetting things?

Well, I mean, that's personal.

Personal, yeah.

But I assumed upsetting, yes.

I was aware of, erm... as I say,
his history.

So while he was waiting to discuss
these... upsetting things with you...

...he went to the pub with his
friends?

Apparently.

Or maybe he just forgot about it.

I don't know. I—I have no idea
why he did ever what he did.

Why ask me?

I know he was troubled.

I have some idea of the context.

Erm...

What I want to know, if it's all
right with you, is what he said

in his note.

What do you make of that, then?

"Don't believe the vicar
is a paedo."

"He's protecting someone else."

I've no idea what this means.

Oh, sorry.
It seems quite clear to me.

He thought you were protecting
a paedophile.

Are you expecting me to
explain to you that I'm not?

Oh, no, I wasn't expecting that.

Right, well...

But if you wouldn't mind.

Do you realise who the paedo in
question is he was referring to?

No.

Erm...

Do you know what his friends
call him?

Ask around, they'll tell you.
They called him Paedo.

Oh, do they? Hadn't heard that.

That's who I'm supposed to be
protecting. That's what he means.

It means I'm protecting him.

That's obvious, surely.

Well, no, it's... it's not really.
Yes, it is.

It's obvious. Don't you think?

Well, it's not exactly
obvious, no.

I mean, you're not protecting
him, are you?

You're telling us.

Yeah, but he's... It's...

I mean, he's...

Dead.

No, please!

I suppose a loss like this...

...hits people differently,
doesn't it?

Were you afraid?

When? When they told you.

When they gave you
your execution date.

Are YOU scared?

Well... I didn't expect to be.

I thought this is what you wanted.

No, no.

It's what I deserve.

Any thinking person is afraid
of what they deserve.

Mr Grieff, are you done
with the telephone?

Oh, yes.

Yes.

Thank you.

And could you give
that to the warden, please?

Could you bring it to him, please?

Will do, Mr Grieff.

What's next? What do we do now?
Where do we go?

Depends. On what?

Mr Grieff says you're a journalist.

Yes. A crime journalist.

That's mainly what I write about,
yeah.

Why? People find it interesting.

People?

I find it interesting.

How about car accidents?
Do you slow down for them too?

No.

The thing about crime, speaking as
a long—term practitioner,

it's a really stupid lifestyle
choice.

I mean, seriously, it's strictly
for the desperate.

It's... It's dangerous,

difficult to do well,
the money's shite.

And if you make any mistakes,
there's a good chance they'll

lock you up. Christ, you'd be better
off being a nurse.

So why is a posh wee thing
like you writing about crime?

Do you think it's funny?

I'm not posh.

Do you know what
you should write? Porn.

Why? It'd be a step up!

I'm not writing about this,
I'm trying to help someone.

That better be true.

Or what?

Or I'll develop a wee problem
with your attitude.

Shall we go, then?

You look Mumpy. I look what?

Mumpy. It's just a word I use.

What's wrong with all the words
you've already got? See?

Mumpy.

What's wrong?

Parents.

Yeah, well, your parents are weird.

How are they weird?

Your dad's a vicar.

You mum fucks a vicar.

It's just off the scale.

Coming to mine? Yeah.

No.

You said you were. I will,
later. Yeah.

I have to go home first.

Something wrong? No. Maybe.

I don't know.

Did I do something?

No. No.

Just, I have to go home
and check something, OK?

She gave you her email
password, yeah?

Yeah.

What is it?

It's just "password."

Webmail.

What are you doing?

I can look in from my computer.

I'm cancelling her Skype call.

Then what?

She wasn't lying about her password
anyway.

THEN what?

We don't have a choice any more.

What are you going to do now?

There is no point in your big
confession.

They already think
you're protecting someone.

And the moment that woman leaves
that cellar, she will tell them who.

She'll tell them who.

You don't have a choice.

It's not our fault.

We have to do what we have to do.

What are you doing?

I need to talk to her.

Watch yourself. She's playing us.

She's terrified.

Yeah.
And she's a cold—hearted bitch.

And she's really, really clever.

What happened?

Did Mary do this to you?

It's not her fault.
You're just so stressed.

She was panicking, that's all.

Did she hit you?

No.

Did she? S—She said to tell you
that I did it myself.

She hit you?

Just don't leave me alone with her!

She's going to kill me. I know she
is. She can't control herself.

Harry, please. I know that I'm safe
when I'm with you. I know I am.

J—Just don't leave me alone with
her!

Listen to me. I won't let her
kill you. On my soul,

as God is my witness,
I will not let her kill you.

Oh, I know. I know.

It's cold in the cellar. Cold?

This will warm her up a bit.

Do you think it still works?

We stopped using that...

Yeah... because it leaked.

Don't say it. Sent off the sensor,
carbon monoxide.

You see, you didn't have to...

...say it.

If you use this in a sealed room...

I was hoping that you'd forgotten

and that it would be an honest
mistake.

But, no, you had to say it out loud.

Mary.

She'd just go to sleep.

It would be... painless.

She'd even be warm.

All we have to do is let it happen.

Just let it happen.

What's the alternative?

There isn't one.

There ISN'T one.

Harry, you know what will
happen

if that woman leaves the cellar.

Did you hit her?

No.

That cut on her face, SHE did that.

Harry, she's trying to turn us
against each other.

It's not going to work.

Is it going to work on you?

Did you read it?

Read what? My email.

I'll read it back to you.

Listen carefully, in case
I've made any mistakes.

"Hello, Cath."

She always calls her Cath,
never Catherine.

And she always starts with hello.
I've checked her other emails.

"Do you mind if I skip the Skype
tonight?"

It's always skip —
She's cancelled before.

"I'm in bed already, and so tired."

"Off on a walking trip and
my phone is broken, so I probably"

"won't be in touch for a week."

"Till then, take care. Janice."

What do you think?

She should send love.

She never does,
it's always take care.

Probably the last time her sister
ever hears from her.

She never sends love.

It's not my fault.

This is...

...a thing that is
happening...to us.

No—one will suffer.

Not even Janice.

Harry...

...this is humane.

Must be so much easier.

What must? Not believing
in hell.

I am in hell, right now.

But I think I can see a way out.

You see, that's the problem —.

There never is.

There never is a way out.

Christ.

We're actually
going to do this, aren't we?

Send the email.

Harry?

Harry, have you bolted the door?

I've bolted both doors.
You can't get in.

What are you doing?
Go to Sally's.

Go to your mother's.
Go wherever you like.

Here's your car keys.

You're not coming in here.

Harry... Mary, listen to me.

I'm not going to let you kill her.
It's not going to happen.

Harry. Harry! Now, go.
Just go. Harry...

Harry!

You can leave us.

Yes, sir.

Are you serious?

Perfectly.

All of a sudden, you're going to
tell us, after all this time?

There's a condition. Ah.

Can't be done.

Executions have been rescheduled
before.

Many of them have been delayed
indefinitely.

I'm sure there's a lawyer
somewhere who can do something.

And in return?

And in return, I will tell

anybody who wants to know...

...where my wife's head is.

Gordon and Marie can bury
their daughter whole.

At last.

That's not enough.

That's not all there is.

Once I explain where I buried
the head...

...it will become clear
why I did it...

...and why she had to die.

Then Gordon and Marie will know,

you will know.

And everybody... will know.

But first...

...I want to live.

Somehow, I know I'm going to
be OK with you.

Erm...

...I don't know what to do yet.
I need...

I need to think. I need to go and
think.

Of course you do.

I got Mary out of here
for her sake.

I don't want her to be any part
of this.

Just like I locked you up
for Ben's sake.

I have done bad things,

wrong things, but I did them.

I'm doing them for my family.

Well, you'd do anything for your
family. I know that.

You'd die for them.

More than that, I would
take their place in hell.

Well? You're not saying much.

The fuck is he doing?

What are my parents doing?

Why didn't you ask him?

I—I wasn't expecting you to stay
hiding.

I couldn't.

I don't know, I just...
You froze.

Well, no—one expects to hear their
father talking like that.

What'd he mean, for my sake?

What has it got to do with me?

Ask him.

I'm going to.

Shit.

What's the matter? It's jammed.

He's fucking jammed the lock with
something and I can't open it.

Dad?!

Oh, shit.

Shit!

Dad?

Dad?

Dad?!

Oh, where the fuck is he?

Nocturne Op. 9, No. 2
by Frederic Chopin.

Dad?

Harry!

For God's sake, phone me back!

She fucked us.

She did it on purpose

and she fucked us.

The email. I got it all wrong.

Bloody email.

Dad!

Don't be stupid, Dad.

Dad!

Dad!

Dad!

♪ You may run home for a long time

♪ Run home for a long time

♪ You may run home for a long time

♪ I tell you, God Almighty's
gonna cut you down

♪ Go tell that long—tongue liar

♪ Go tell that midnight rider

♪ Tell the gambler, the rambler,
the back—biter

♪ Great God Almighty's
gonna cut 'em down

♪ Great God Almighty's
gonna cut 'em down. ♪