All language subtitles for [SubtitleTools.com] Crime.S0202_British [English] (SUBRIP)

- First day back, eh?
- Aye.

Tommy Stark.
Transferred here from vice.

That Drummond whore,
she fucked up Gillman.

Jerry was my first partner,

my mentor. He left the police
ten years ago.

He started a new life as Lauren.

It's my friend Gayle's place.
She's a vulnerable trans woman.

She's been in a very
secretive relationship

with a high-profile sugar daddy.

Someone made Gayle sign an NDA

to say she wouldn't
discuss the relationship.

Name's blacked out.

A boy nearly lost his wedding tackle.

An eye witness saw the mess of the fucker

at the Landsburgh Hotel.

We need to know who was in that room.

All stories have setbacks,

especially when you factor
human emotion into the tale.

Recovery requires us to meet
these emotions head on --

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

Easier said than done when
the emotion generated

by what you face
is one of unbearable horror.

You don't belong with them.

Based on body temperature

and the ambient temperature at the scene,

death was around 4:00
to 5:00 p.m. yesterday.

There's a blow to the head,
well, unlikely to be fatal,

probably knocking him unconscious.

Marks on the body suggest
the victim was dragged

and hung after he died.

Now, the fatal wound is in the groin area.

The victim bled to death.

The unusual entry point and lack
of serration around the wound

suggests this wasn't carried out
with your average kitchen knife.

What about this?

This flourish was postmortem.

"#2 The Strange Case."

What does that mean?

Dr. William Durie,

a GP practising for over
25 years in Wester Hailes.

MBE for services to the community.

Salt of the Earth.
Maybe somebody didnae think

he was that squeaky clean.

Death caused by slashing
the femoral artery in the groin.

Hung from a lamp post postmortem.

The carving on his chest reads
"A Strange Case #2."

This killer is using Durie's
death to make a statement.

And we have whispers of an attack here.

The Landsburgh Hotel.
A crime we can't investigate.

- Ray.
- What connects the saintly Durie

and the anonymous toff?

Tommy, Norrie, grill your source.

Find out who he is, who he was with.

Ray, you can't do this.

If we have two-tier police,
than democracy's fucked.

Democracy is not our concern.

Following the orders of your superiors is.

Hear that, boys?
Better not do it then, eh?

Understood.

Don't tell me. Public safety.

There's a serial killer on the loose.

The establishment is to blame.

Well...

It looks that way, boss.

Two days.
He's been back two days,

and you're still spouting
the same nonsense

I've been putting up with...
For years.

William Durie dead,
Gayle Nicholson silenced

and then disappeared,
and we can't investigate because

some over-privileged nonce
pulls the strings?

And maybe Gayle disappeared

because she left her boyfriend for dead.

Nothing's feeling right, Bob.

Investigate the doctor.
See where it takes you.

Find Gayle Nicholson.
She's our prime suspect.

Play the system.

You can't fight it!

Two attacks in a week,

both targeting the victim's groin.

The lover of one disappears without trace.

We've done more with less.

Just one victim,

I'd have said it's a crime of passion.

Lover does a runner. M.O. points
to it being sexually-motivated.

But this one, too?

- And the lamp post.
- And the message.

"#2 The Strange Case."

Implies there's a previous victim.

Important thing is to keep an open mind.

You have to be able to see the beast.

They very rarely
advertise themselves as such.

Do you ever feel like we're being watched?

All the time, DI Drummond.

Come on. Doctor's waiting.

I usually cover one
of the other surgeries.

His regular receptionist had to
take to her bed with the grief.

His son Scott's in there just now.

Thank you.

Scott Durie? DI Lennox,
DI Drummond.

Sorry for your loss.

Thank you.

Are you looking for something?

Erm, just collecting his things.

This was him.

A life lived here, caring for his people.

Any idea who might have done this?

Isn't that your job?

Any feuds? Enemies?

My father bled compassion,
Inspector. Have some respect.

And yet he was brutally
murdered and displayed.

What was that? A warning?

Can you think of anyone who
might have wanted to harm him?

He was loved.

He gave his all for these people.

It's not the first time a public servant's

been brutally cut down.

And hanged for all to see?

What did he do in his spare time?

My father cared.
No more, no less than that.

We'll need a statement.

Let us know if anything strikes you.

He's clearly highly thought of.

I'm struggling to find
the connection, Ray.

His body was hung to send the message

that Durie is not what he seems.

Get Gill poring over that family.

Look in the shadows.
Families are always fucked up.

Everybody's got something to hide.

Let's find the monster within.

He spent his whole life here.

That's not a man who's out for himself.

Maybe he made a mistake.
Got too emotionally involved.

Alright. Thank you,
good people, thank you.

Thank you. You, er --
You manufacture quite the stir

everywhere you go.

Not many people here believe
you deserve this platform,

and not many institutions
would give it to you.

No, but that's down
to the media, of course.

I, on the other hand, am a great believer

in knowing your enemy.

Democracy should be, er, consensual,

not confrontational.

My politics are inclusive.
I leave nobody out --

Vagrants, rent boys,
freaks of nature and science.

Fuck's he talking about?

I've had encounters with every one of you,

so, er, no one can accuse me
of being revolted by the masses.

So you're saying that
you're a man of the people

because you shag anyone and everyone?

If society is driven by craven,
venal urges,

then that's all we are.

Democracy is about education
and opportunities.

Professor Fairchild,
that is a lovely notion,

but opportunities do exist for all of us.

What you need to understand
is that there's only a few of us

who have the gumption to go after them.

I went after my opportunity,
Mr. Gulliver --

Seized the gift of living twice.

Two lives.
Can you imagine that

in your paltry pursuit
of a tired ejaculation?

I know how you feel.

Er, I know how she feels.

I've looked deep inside myself
in order to make myself

the best version
I can possibly be.

I'm not sure about this.

We should boost.

A wee peeve off duty?

What could be more innocent?

After all, it's no like any
crime was committed here, eh!

Besides it's our case.

Not fucking Drummond's.

Brian.

Officer Stark.

Need a wee bit of help.
About this toff

that almost had his balls cut off?

I don't know anything about that.

Your fuckin' hole.

I'll lose my job if I talk.

You'll lose it if the manager here knows

that you did time for
the Mark and Samantha Ronson.

When do ya finish?

20 minutes, but I --

Meet us in the pub 'round the corner.

Be there.

Are you a fascist?

Of course I'm not.

I stand as the messenger
for those people left behind.

Those our social engineering
has conveniently put aside --

The real people of this country.

Really?
You do nothing for such people

except feed their basest prejudices.

I put the people
who built this country first.

You're just a mouthpiece for their fears.

Don't you believe that everyone
should have the right to vote

and everyone should be educated
to use their vote responsibly?

I believe there are certain
people that you cannot level up.

You know, the lazy, inadequate,
work-shy welfare rats,

the sponging interlopers
from shithole countries.

Do you know why we still
have a class system

in our country?

Because it works!

- You're a fucking Nazi!
- No platform for fascists!

Nazi!

Good.
Bring it. Bring it on.

- Pig.
- I believe in our blessed King,

the last night of the Proms,
Dame Judi Dench,

the Battle of Britain,

Winston Churchill,
and Sir Trevor McDonald.

I'm no racist.

Oh!

Get him out of here!

Get the fuck out of here!

Look. His name is, er,
Piggot-Wilkins.

He's got some serious clout.

He must be royalty
or some secret service guy.

He's a perve of the highest order,

brought hookers back to the hotel.

And when he got done,
his mob came in and cleaned up.

Told us -- silence or else.

Well, that was good, pal.
Not so hard, is it?

When ya get the old vocal chords

loosened wi the Christopher Reeve?

Ray.

Tracking Gayle's movements has given us

a few sightings of her

on cameras in the city centre
in the last few days.

So Gayle's not missing, she's
just keeping a low profile.

- Looks that way.
- Thanks, Gill.

- Keep tracking her.
- Er, that's not all.

There's a woman in reception
kicking up a shindy.

I think it's your sister.

I've been thinking of
everywhere Gayle could be.

Not many left spring to mind.

Can you give us a list
of the remaining places?

No. I'm coming with you.

I was a cop. I remember
how these things go down.

I think you'll find
I do know criminal law,

- 'cause I practise it every day.
- It'll be tonight.

- Fine.
- Street Walkers tend not to do

much business during the day.

- Pick me up at 10:00?
- Aye.

Please wait here.

What's going on out there?

Her son was lifted at the Uni demo.

She's givin' it the big one
about being a lawyer.

No wonder her boy's in the nick.

She's a fuckin' bam.

She's my sister.

Oh, fuck. Sorry, Ray.

Don't be.
She is a fuckin' bam.

I'll get the wee man and his mate out.

They flung paint at Gulliver,
but he's not pressing charges.

He should still get done for vandalism,

but I'll get it dropped.

- Appreciated.
- Ray, thank God.

How can you work in this den of fascists?

Dinnae you start. Fraser and
his mate are getting out.

Yes. My colleague, Moira --

She's Richie Gulliver's sister --

Made a call
to get him to drop the charges.

They were still
getting done for vandalism,

but I've got us to drop it.

Maybe have a word with Fraser, eh?

He never listens to anything
I say.

He shows nothing
but overt resentment towards me.

What does, er -- what does
Angus have to say?

The usual dumb, trivial,

spineless things he's always said.

Useless.

Can you talk to Fraser?

You two were close.

You used to take him to the football.

Gill, anything of note on the Duries?

Well, he's not such a man of the people,

our Dr. Durie.
Privileged background,

privately educated at Gordonstoun.

But the community loved him.
They're having a get together.

Brilliant.

We'll get someone there.

I need to get away.

My flatmates are doing my head in.

Do you like camping?

Yeah. Y-Y-Yeah. Y-Yes.

Er, what are you up to tonight?

Something not involving booze.

I'm going to shoot for a dry month.

Bummer.

I'm desperate to get totally pished.

Celeste's in Inverness

at her mum's for a few days.

- That still going okay?
- Oh, yeah, it's great.

These uniform cops
know how to have a good time.

I don't need to know
much more about that, thanks.

- Amanda.
- Yeah?

Oh.

This just came in.

"Tyranny's intonations change,
but the voice remains the same.

You never have to seek out
damaged men of power."

"They come to you, driven
in their vainglorious way,

to tell their stories,
to self-exonerate, to connect.

This is how they will be destroyed.

Piggot-Wilkins survived.
But we put down a marker.

I thought you'd like
the heads up, Inspector Lennox.

We're about to get to know
each other very well.

You'll find me where you least expect me."

I mean, what the fuck?

I've got a name for you,
DI Lennox.

What?

DI Lennox.

No.
Christopher Piggot-Wilkins.

Fuck me.
That's some slip of the scalpel.

Got a name for you, too --

Irritating fucking prick.

How do we ignore this, boss?

The fucking toffs
can't keep it under wraps.

We've got a killer taunting us.

You don't know that.
The bloke's not even dead.

Durie is, boss. Number Two.

Piggot-Wilkins has to talk.

Steady on, my boy. What have
we got from Jerry's mate, Gayle?

Lauren...boss.

Thank you, Inspector Drummond.
So what have we got for him?

- Them?
- Her, sir.

Yes. Exactly.

Gill found Gayle on CCTV.

She's not missing.
She's running.

And we need to find out if it's
because she's scared

or because she's guilty.

And she might be able to shed
some light on Piggot-Wilkins.

Lauren thinks she's got a lead.

We're chasing up this evening.

- Lauren?
- Was Jerry. Now Lauren, boss.

I've no fucking place
in this world anymore!

Everything I do and say is wrong!

And now this.

I can't ignore it,
but I can't action that.

My fucking goose is cooked.

I knew you'd --

I knew you'd do it one day, Ray.

Thank you, Bob.

Leave me now.

I need time.

Interesting night for you,
El Mondo.

Ghosts of Christmas Past
and Present in the car.

Aye, well, it's the one
yet to come that bothers me.

You don't think Gayle
attacked Piggot-Wilkins, do you?

I read her as mixed up, but not dangerous.

You can never know that.
Not for certain.

I might have changed a bit,
but I'll never lose my nose.

20 years a polis, always a polis, eh?

Aye.

Pull over here.

So, erm, how is my boy to work
with, Inspector Drummond?

He's a man.

He's better than most,
but he's still a man.

That's not true.

He's what I made him.
When I got him,

he was a chicken without a head,
led by his massive balls.

Look at him now --

Empathy, original thinker, courage, heart.

All bound right behind that pretty face...

...made by the woman I became.

He'll tell you, too --
Gayle's not your suspect.

That right, Ray?

We think it's important
to keep an open mind.

Well, this is a mixed bag.

Could be an interesting night.

Have you seen this person?

She's known to frequent these areas.

A hard no.

She's not done anything wrong.

Grassing up so not me, honey.

Especially when I catch
the whiff of bacon on yous.

Thought you'd gotten rid of that stink.

I was wrong. My bad.

Wait.

I get your cynicism.

But I think our girl could be in trouble.

And what are this lot
going to do about it?

Fucking polis, with such a proud record

of defending sex workers' rights.

Get fucked, honey.

But you know me, Tilly.

And --

And I trust these two.

Try Degsy's.

Don't mention my name.

Appreciated.

We have a lead, El Mondo.

Yes, indeed. We have a lead.

We have a lead, such is our creed,

but let us not succumb to greed!

But obviously, we must take heed,

unless the power we choose to cede.

- I'll go in.
- No, you're not a cop.

- Well, they won't let you in.
- That's right.

- We should hang back --
- They'll let me in.

It's Degsy's.
Been here before.

Ray, if this is police
business, you can get to fuck

unless you've a warrant.

If it's personal business...

Come and join us.

It's personal.

Enter.

Make yourself comfortable, bro.

This pipe is the Tesla of crack cocaine.

Removes all that belching
impure diesel-tasting smoke.

Smooth.

Smooth.

Degsy!

Ah.

- It's good shit.
- Aye?

- Aye.
- Aye.

Do you fancy a cuppa?

Yeah, go on then.

Nice to have you back, Ray.

You need to find your sea legs again.

Aye.

- Ronnie.
- Ray.

Naw...fuck sake...
I thought everything was solid.

Don't look at us like that,
Raymie.

You've got no idea how bad it's been.

- Come on.
- No, no, no.

- Come on.
- Dinnae help me up. No.

- Gayle? Gayle!
- No. No, don't you leave me!

Alright, okay, okay, okay.
Fuck.

- Get me home!
- Fuck sake.

Gayle.

Gayle, wait!

Fuck you!

It's the blind leadin' the blind.

Hey, don't make strangers o' yourself.

Fucking idiot!

I know you're down here, Gayle.

Come out.

We can help you.

Gayle?

No! No!

It's okay.

- It's okay.
- Jesus Christ.

Where's your keys?
Your keys?

Get in the car.

- Ugh, fuck.
- In!

- Yeah?
- We've got the suspect.

- Where are you?
- Take the car.

I've gotta get someone home.

- Who is it, Ray?
- It's my fucking sponsor.

How am I supposed to stay sober when

my fucking sponsor's
in a fucking crackhouse?

You fucker!

I'm sorry, Raymie.

Come on. Yeah.

Come on.

Come on, you stupid fucker.

Dinnae fuckin' deny it!

- Fucking did, man.
- Have a chip. Have a chip.

Fuck your chips.

I saw yi!
Don't yo fucking deny it!

I dunae care what you're
talking about! You're pished!

So what, I'm pished?!

Pick on some radge your own size.

- What the fuck ye daein?
- Oh, you're welcome, doll.

What ya done tae him, ya radge?!

Better than a wank any day.

She went and turned the bairns against us,

before she took me to the cleaners.

But fuck her and fuck
the fire brigade! I was...

I didn't want to tell you
Raymie, you were doing so well.

But these new crack pipes,
they are so smooth.

Aye. Aye. They filter
all the bad stuff out.

It's better for ye than the foil.

Aye.

Here you are.

I cannae go inside, Raymie, eh?

I cannae let them see me like this!

Well, kip in the fucking car
until you come down.

- No. No. No.
- Fuck's sake.

- Raymie! Ray!
- Drew Busby, a weedgie

and one of the last to play
for the now-defunct

Third Lanark, was signed
from Airdrie as a striker.

Had a prolific partnership
there with Drew Jarvie,

converted to Midfield Enforcer at Hearts,

a fan favourite, still managed
55 goals from 170 appearances.

The Buzz Bomb.

Drew Busby, a weedgie and one of the last

to play for the now-defunct
Third Lanark,

had a prolific partnership
there with Drew Jarvie --

Sorry.

Ray?

Do we have an appointment?

Er, no.

No, we don't. But I thought...

I wanted to inhale that pipe.
I wanted it so badly.

- I see.
- Seeing Ronnie in that place,

I started to -- started to feel
like I was --

I was losing my grip.

You felt weak, useless.

Like the addict in you
was back in control.

Yeah, but I didn't succumb,
and I think that's important.

Would you like me to tell you
the fact you didn't smoke

the pipe is more significant

than the fact you were tempted to?

Well, I'm -- I'm hoping
it means something.

I mean, there's -- there's times
when I'd have done it.

So what stopped you?

I need certainties in life.

Fixed points, you know?

Er, I thought the relationship
with Trudi would do that, but...

Only the job can.

So the job keeps you drug free

until it reaches
a certain level of stress,

then it enables with a vengeance.

I think that's it, yeah.

But you're only a cop
because you want to solve

the disturbing cases.

The ones that ultimately
bring you to your knees.

Maybe.

- DI Drummond?
- Yes.

Helena Cairns.
"All Fur Coat" Podcast.

I want to speak to a female detective

at the coal face of policing.

Not a chance.

But I do like your podcast.

I watch every week, as soon as it uploads.

Well, here's my card.

If you change your mind.

We know about Piggot-Wilkins.

Your lover. The one
who made you sign an NDA.

Did you attack
Christopher Piggot-Wilkins

- at the Landsburgh Hotel?
- What? No.

Didn't he pay you enough?

What happened to him?
Is he okay?

Piggot-Wilkins was brutally
assaulted in his hotel room.

He was left for dead.

Did you want
Piggot-Wilkins dead?

You were warned to keep away.
Never to speak of him again.

That must have felt
like a slap in the face.

No, I cared about him.

I-It might have been love.
Who knows?

But it was always going to end.

You loved him?

Men like that don't walk around with women

like me on their arms.

But he made me happy.

Like me, he knew pain.

His posh school was a factory of abuse.

How do you know
William Durie?

Don't know who you're talking about.

- Why did you run, Gayle?
- What else could I do?

It was heavy as fuck.

If it wasnae you, who do you
think assaulted Piggot-Wilkins?

I don't know. They must have
got to him, as well.

Same as they did Lauren.

You think it was the same
people who warned you off?

Why would they do that?

I don't know.

She's telling the truth, Bob.

I know I've been out
of the force a long time,

but this place hasn't changed a bit.

It's bloody unrecognisable,

Jerry, I can't keep up.

Sorry. Lauren, of course.

- It's okay.
- It's not okay.

This job is about right and wrong.

I used to know the difference,

but now I can't open my mouth
without saying the wrong thing.

You're -- You're learning.

Society's lost the art of patience.

Revolutions are in education,
Bob.

I haven't got the energy.

I -- Every day,
I walk the tightrope

of being cancelled.

I don't even know how to talk to you.

You can say anything to me.

We've known each other 30 years.

I knew Jerry.

I'm probably saying
all the wrong things, but...

Lauren and Jerry are not the same person.

You might like Lauren.

You should take a lady out
for a pint one night.

Mm-hmm.

Well, I should warn you,
it's strictly platonic.

I know you.

Do you remember the other Piggot-Wilkins?

I do.

Found hanging from his staircase.

All kept fairly quiet in the press.

Like father, like son.

I mean, unless she's a top-class actress,

there's no way Gayle's our killer.

I've checked in with Scott Durie.

The name Piggot-Wilkins
means nothing to him.

Ray, look.
Look at Durie's obituary.

"The good doctor might not be so good.

Couldn't flush away the number one,

but managed to do it with the number two."

Taking responsibility for
Durie, too,

Now it's out there for anyone to see.

Why?
Why is the killer doing this?

Ay up, Lennox.
Long time no see.

Still failing
to catch somebody, I believe.

You lack in imagination,
Raymond Lennox.

That's your problem.

You never did find me.
I had to come to you.

And once again, you're looking
in all the wrong places.

Something's going badly wrong
in your office,

and I will tell you why
if you come and pay me a visit.

Detective Inspector
Raymond Lennox.

You look well. I didn't think
you had it in you.

You still seeing that lady of yours?

What was her name again?

What did you mean, on the phone?

Trudi.

Course.

Oh, what I get the impression
she's flown the nest,

Ray Lennox.

Fucking bastard!

Is this is how it felt
when you killed those kids?!

You fucking paedophile!
You fucking bastard!

What do you want?

I'm also getting
the impression there is no lover

on the scene right now.

Would I be right?

Tell me what the fuck this is about.

You need to open your eyes.
There's been a leak about me.

I'm very disappointed in you, Lennox.

Got these sent through prison mail.

Someone wants to tell your story.

Knows a lot about you.

Hmm.

And you, too.

You've been talking to someone.

Or is there a leaky vessel
in your station?

He wants acclaim for what I did.

As I said before,
I'm not letting just any fucker

tell my story.

History is only told by victors.

Find the bastard, Lennox.
Do your job.

Why would I give a fuck...

Why would I give a fuck

about who wants to tell
your fucking story?

Perhaps I am offering you
some very sweet inducements

to ensure my story remains my own.

You're a man of the people.

Especially the missing ones.

Cannae find nothing
on this Doctor Strange.

This Durie felly.

The boy is Mother Teresa wi a cock.

Well, you'll like this.

No a lot, but...

So in the interest of accountability,

I'm going to doorstep some former clients,

And next month is a police special.

Police special?

Fucking hell.

Where's Ray?

He's just dealing with
some personal business.

Right, everyone, if I can
have your attention.

It's been 42 long and weary years

since I decided to dedicate my life

to the policing
of this magnificent cesspit.

I thought I might make a difference,

but I'm far too worn in the baws

to really believe in all that.

The job has marked me
more than I've marked it,

and sometimes you have to hear

the full time whistle
and stopped running around.

I'm due a lot of leave,

so this will take effect...

Almost immediately,

week after next.

Anyone interested in my job,

please apply now,

as they are hastily organising interviews.

I want to see some of you
putting your names forward.

The future of the policing
of this department

lies within the department.

Notice Lennox isn't here.

He's probably on the golf course right now

with fucking
Chief Constable.

Fit-up job, if I ever saw one.

There's a well in Perthshire,
near Killiecrankie,

between two industrial sites
on some rough moorland.

Do you know it, Lennox?

Once a beautiful sight,
now somewhat sullied.

You know what you'll find.

And maybe two birds
with one stone, so to speak.

Sandy Gilbert, Scene Evidence
Recovery Manager.

The well's been emptied
and dried out for decades.

- We plan to --
- Where's my rig?

No. This is a specialist activity.

I'm the ranking officer on this case.

I've been on it for 15 years.
I am going down.

- I can't advise that.
- I've done full abseiling

training with retrieval teams.

You're going into a narrow hole
in total darkness.

We don't know the integrity of the well.

I-It's possible this has been
compromised and could subside --

I have reason to believe that in addition

to at least two bodies,
there's crucial evidence

pertinent to ongoing cases
at the bottom of that well.

I am going down.
End of discussion.

Get me my fucking rig.

- Boss?
- Amanda, this stuff with Stark

has got to stop for both your good.

Tell him.
He's a sexist creep,

and he's angry about my promotion.

Just keep your head down.

The old ways are over.
You're the rising star here.

I want to get there on merit, boss.

Who ever got anywhere on merit, Amanda?

I certainly didn't.

I've spent my life mouthing dumb
platitudes at the Masonic club,

the golf club, hospitality
suite at Tynecastle for years.

- But you just --
- Look at Boris Johnson,

Cameron, a shit journalist and
a public relations office boy.

Do you think they ever
got anywhere on merit?

They went to fucking Eton,
Amanda.

But that's them.

I want to be secure in the knowledge.

Secure?

You want security
in a police job in a world

that is falling apart?

Wise up, Amanda.

I'll give you some advice --

Put your name in the hat for my job.

And where is Ray?

No, don't even try to tell me.

This radio signal

will probably cut out
when you get past 30 feet,

and it's around 50 to the bottom.

Don't send anyone else down.

The walls --
The walls are crumbling.

I'm getting you out of there, Lennox.

- We're winding you in.
- No, that's a fucking order.

If you start to pull me up,
I'll remove

these fucking harness gloves
and I'll jump down.

On your own head, Lennox,
you fucking serious crimes

cowboys are gonna cost me my fucking job.

Francesca Allen, 14,
Selly Oak, Birmingham.

Madeline Parish, 17,
Pontrefact, Yorkshire.

Allison Sturbridge, 15,
Preston.

Juliet Roe, 12,
Luton.

Fiona Martin, 14,
Sh-Sh-Sheffield.

Angela Harrison, 15,
Wolverhampton.

Hazel Lloyd, 14,
Portobello, Edinburgh.

Valentina Rossi, 14,
Dunfermline.

Caroline Homes, 16,
Finchley, North London.

It's okay.

It's okay.

Ugh.

Aw fuck sake.

Hazel.

Hazel Lloyd.

F-For fuck sake!

I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.

You pour wee soul.

You pour wee soul.

Who are you?

Who are you?

Oh, my God.

Get me up!

Thank you would have been nice.

- Boss.
- You've heard?

- About me jacking it in?
- What?

I must be crazy, because I don't even know

where the fuck you've been,

but I -- I want you to apply for my job.

Seriously? Like, I mean, I --

You're a good candidate.

And Tommy Stark's already applied.

- Good for him.
- Stark's a manipulative,

racist, misogynistic, misanthropic

alcoholic with a short fuse.

So, a strong candidate.

I fucking knew
I was being followed!

I told you
I would fucking kill you

if you pulled this shit again.
We're over!

I need you to meet me tomorrow.

Car parked near the castle.
8:30.

You have to be joking.

It's about the sex tape,
Amanda.

You've got more balls than most guys,

coming here on your own.

Aye, it's diseased shit-pit.

It's just temporary, likes.

Everything is temporary.
The question is, how temporary

- is this temporary?
- Just till I get organised.

What do you want?

What Dougie Gillman was feared of.

I want you on my show.

How no?

All these people that get
to tell their stories,

all that criminal scum
w' their true crime.

How about me?

Where's the likes o' Tommy Stark's

15 minutes o' fame?

Glad to have you on board.

Now, I have to love you --

Metaphorically speaking,

and leave you, physically speaking.

The most dreaded things
are not the physical dangers

but the mental perils
we find ourselves in.

Our worst nightmares
lie within us, dormant.

Our successes flourish, then fade.

Oh, Ray...

But our failures --
Oh, how they grow like tumours

in our weary hearts.

Aww, Ray.