All language subtitles for [SubtitleTools.com] Crime.S0205_British [English] (SUBRIP)

I'm sorry, Moira.

Why do you feel it's
your responsibility to avenge?

I was ten. I was raped.

I see a nasty, spiteful wee whore

who'll do anything to get
to where she wants to be.

The theatricality of the killings.

Someone doesnae just want these men dead.

He wants to expose them. Why?

I've had a shit day.

I could do with some company.

I don't think that Norrie's
who he says he is.

He drove to the warehouse
where Gulliver's body was found.

Why would he go there?

It's time to find out.

We need to bring
Norrie Erskine in, eh.

You tether yourself
to one person, to one city,

like the dock of a port.

But it could be any dock, any port.

And you see them all slide past --

The faces of the women
you've made love to,

the men you've locked up forever --

And you realise that it all
has nothing to do with them.

It's all about yourself

and the struggle for control of that self.

Sort this the fuck out.

Yeah.

Amanda, last night, I'm...

I'm -- I'm sorry. Er --

I expected more
from a senior professional.

Well -- Well, I...

I'm joking. You were very good.

Lighten up, Ray.

Aw, no.

Norrie, you daft bastard.

Where is the fucking path tent?

We've got a body in the middle
of a fucking public park!

We're having to get a spare, boss.

A fucking spare?

It's -- It's my fault, sir.

I borrowed it to go camping.

It blew away.

I'm going to replace it
as soon as we get back.

What fucking idiot goes camping

with a fucking crime-scene tent?

There's been a mur--

Homicide.

There's one coming from Fife.

And they will think that
we are amateur fucking

Mickey Mouse wankers...
With good reason.

My office, this afternoon.

...And dragged.

Evidence of hood
with marks 'round the neck

and the bounds around
the wrists and ankles.

Signs of a struggle.

The fatal injury is in the groin area.

So exactly like Gulliver,
except one thing --

The eyelids have been cut off
with surgical scissors.

Fuck sake.

And then, of course, there's this.

Can we not give the man
a bit of dignity, eh?

Carried out post mortem.

How can we no get a fucking tent?!

Fuck.

Eh?! Eh?!

He was lying to us, boss.

Gulliver...Durie...

Piggot-Wilkins.

A working-class weedgie
like Erskine doesnae fit.

He lied about his whereabouts

on the night of Ritchie Gulliver's death.

CCTV proved he abandoned his post.

He drove to the warehouse where
Gulliver was later murdered.

Why? Erskine's eyelids were
removed with surgical scissors.

- What did he see?
- Who was Norrie Erskine?

We need to know everything about him.

He was the victim here.
We should remember that.

He lied to us.
We should remember that.

I'd swear in church on a stack of Bibles

singing "Kumbaya"

that I never observed
Norrie doing anything

that was remotely
Princess Michael.

Can't say that about everyone.

The weapon in his glove box
would suggest otherwise.

The message carved on to him --
"And then there were none" --

Suggests he was the last victim,

like we speculated about Gulliver.

I want Norrie's movements last night.

Sophie, follow up on the CCTV
of Erskine's route

to the warehouse,
Gill, split the team up,

look into Erskine -- phone,
flat, bank card, everything.

A wee heads up, Ray --
It's, er...

It was probable that the last
person to see Erskine alive

was your brother-in-law.

We hit the pish last night
after dining in his bistro.

He teamed up after a wee stay back.

I left them early doors, but I --

I think they might have been
bound for the pubic triangle.

Right. Thanks.

I'll call him in.

Angus Ross?

I'm DI Drummond.

Wait. Ray's partner?

- Mm-hmm.
- Wow.

No wonder he's kept you a secret.

You're married to DI Lennox's sister?

22 years.

But you didn't know DS Erskine.

I only met him last night
with Tommy Stark.

My restaurant, Gustronomic,
is close by here.

I'm always on at Ray to come by,

but these are the first Serious
Crimes officers to use it.

Traffic's another matter.

- Some of my best customers are --
- I'm gonna --

I'm gonna need you to focus.

You were with Erskine last night, right?

Aye.

Where did you go
and when did you leave him?

We stayed back at mine,
and then we hit a few pubs.

Bannerman's, Whistle Binkies.

Norrie suggested the triangle,
but I held out for CC's.

I met an old mate who had some ching

Norrie and I partook in.

It wasn't the --

No. No.

The drugs weren't a factor in his death.

What was his mood?

Melancholic.
He tried to keep things light,

but you could see he was
going through something heavy.

Could you elaborate on that?

Maybe women troubles.

What was the strip club he went to?

I don't know.

I do remember he said

that the girls knew him as Uncle Norrie.

- You alright?
- Aye.

Poor guy.

We were both a bit depressed last night.

We spoke about art and love.

I don't know when it happened,
but at some point,

Jackie just stopped loving me.

I know she's sleeping with someone, Ray.

I've known for some time.

Er, it's no my business.

I've never had affairs.

Jackie thinks I have, but no way.

I might have considered it,
but I've never done it.

Again, that's your business.

I've had Fraser on the blower.

He knows he's really pissed you off.

Aye, well, you have to deal
with it. He's my nephew.

I love him, but I want him
out of my flat tonight.

Aye.

So, Ray's brother-in-law

confirmed you left them after CC Blooms.

Maybe they went to church after,

said a wee prayer.

What?

The church. The pub.

Both full of muppets from wank school.

You pays your money,
you takes your choice.

Gill's getting the CCTV from CC Bloom's.

Let's try and follow Erskine's
likely route from there.

Aye. Comes in here a lot.

Sometimes with other men,
I think cops,

but, er, mostly alone.

- Was he here last night?
- Might have been.

He had a quiet relationship
with some of the girls.

Liked massages.
Seemed an observer, a voyeur.

- Did they find him creepy?
- Lindy?

Uncle Norrie?

Soap dodger?

Aye. He liked to watch you

have sex with your boyfriend.

- Record you on his phone?
- No. No tapes.

Never did nothing,
like touch me or Allister,

just watched and wanked.

How did Allister feel about this?

Allister's an accountancy
student at Heriot-Watt.

They were cash transactions.

He wanted me to declare them
to Revenue as expenses, but...

- You never did.
- Nah. That was down to me.

Allister always advised us to,

but...am I gonna get any bother?

No from us.

You've been helpful. Thanks.

What were they like,

these other cops that he came in with?

The usual sleazy,
ferrety-looking bastards.

We're gonna need your CCTV
from last night.

Course.

Thank you for your
cooperation, Mrs. Manderson.

What's this?

Er, I heard you'd broken up with Celeste.

Are things any better?

No.

Well, time is a great healer.

Listen, I actually need you
to take a look at something.

Fort Knox.
Taking no chances.

Some of this stuff's vintage.
He's quite a collector.

Creepy fuck.

A weird transition from actor to cop.

He failed as an actor.

It doesn't look like
he was massively successful

as a cop either.

Look at this.

Maybe concentrate on finding something

that connects him to Gulliver,
Durie, or Piggot-Wilkins, eh?

Like his voracious
sexual appetites, for instance?

- Voracious. Sexual. Appetites.
- It's a link.

Do you really believe they're
unique in those appetites?

Ray?

This can't be.

The sick bastard.

Fuck sake.

Fuck sake.

Look at the way he's labelled
them and reviewed them.

That is the mind of a...paedo...

Well...

Fucking Erskine.

A short eyes.

Is this what links all four men?

Gulliver was sexually deviant,

but we never found anything like this.

They'd have flung away
the fucking key for this stuff.

He is dead to me now.

Fuck.

Jesus. Fuck.

"Your eyes are bigger
than your stomach, Erskine,

and considerably shorter."

"A man of dark secrets.

Your colleagues will be interested

to know the real you."

Someone was taunting Erskine
over his porn collection?

Erskine was a hunted man in his last days.

These postcards
arenae just about the porn.

Someone's got something over him.

Bingo.

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot?"

"Auld Lang Syne,"

all these New Years
that they spent together.

Let's go and have another word
with Moira Gulliver, eh?

Let's go.

Hello, Ray.

Your sister has been an absolute rock.

Glad to hear it.

I'm just planning
for his order of service.

Does the name Norrie Erskine
mean anything to you?

I don't know him at all.

We need you to think
about the last New Year

- your family spent together.
- Can this not wait?

No really.

Can you remember when and where it was?

We'd go somewhere different every year.

Okay. When was the last time?

We've, er, reason to believe
that these murders are

about something that happened
on one of the holidays.

Moira, we really, really
need you to think about this.

Ray, come back later.

We're in the middle

of a multiple homicide investigation.

No. It's fine.

Let me see.

Okay.

Okay.

Yes.

This seems to be the last time.

The Adrey House Hotel.

Big, old, stuffy place out in the country.

30 years ago? You're sure?

Well, I've nothing later.

Okay.

He looks like a man there.

A year earlier, they were just boys.

Funny things happen when boys become men.

Why did it end?

I can't tell you, Ray.

Because I wasn't there that year.

I was away skiing.

Let's just say it wasn't really working

for any of the women by the end.

She's a lot posher than you.

Jackie? Always was.

Fucking embarrassing
when we were kids in Oxgangs.

Like she was prepping for the law chamber

and the New Town right from birth.

What were you prepping for?

Ray?

This.

I was preparing for this.

Evidence found in Norrie Erskine's flat

gives us reason to believe

that he was being blackmailed
in the last days of his life.

Blackmailed about what?

He was housing a large collection

of...illegal porn.

The knife in his car suggests

he was preparing to defend himself.

Which makes sense, of the lies,

on the night of Gulliver's death.

He went to the warehouse
to confront the killer.

Couldn't exactly fucking arrest him, eh?

But we can only assume that
he couldn't go through with it.

What connects him to Gulliver,
Piggot-Wilkins and Durie?

Maybe the porn.
We'll find out.

But let's start with confirming
the connections that we have.

Moira Gulliver told us the last time

their families were together.

We need to find out where
Erskine was on Hogmanay of 1992,

specifically if he was anywhere
near Adrey House Hotel.

- Can someone get on that now?
- Yeah.

Erm, boss. There's something
I think you should see.

I've been tracking
Erskine's route

from Gulliver's house to the warehouse,

and look.

Is he following that car?

Not in every shot,

but it appears enough to make us think

Erskine was following someone.

Right.
And as he didnae call it in...

It makes sense of the idea

that he planned to kill that night.

Is there a clearer image of the driver?

Yeah.

I've cross-referenced this
with the restaurant footage.

It's the same man.

I've traced his reg.
Unbelievably, it's his own car.

His name's Victor Maslow.

Parents are dead, and he hasn't been

at his last registered address for years.

- Ray?
- I've seen him.

Where?

I don't know, but I've fucking seen him.

- Everybody!
- We've got a suspect.

His name is Victor Maslow.

We've got a name, we've got a face.

No excuses. Where is he?
I want Maslow!

You're not gonna believe this,
Ray, 'cos I fucking don't.

I called the Adrey House Hotel.

I got their records from December 1992.

But we've already got them.

Norrie Erskine requested them yesterday.

One of our own.

The media will paste us.

What have I done to deserve this?

Ah.

These interviews tomorrow
for the Chief Super job.

Do we need to postpone them?

No.

No, go -- go ahead.

Well, at least pretend
to give a shit about this.

This message on Norrie's chest --

"And then there were none,"

what if -- what if it really
is the last death

and Maslow just slips off into the sunset?

It looked like it was family connections,

and then -- then he fucking kills Erskine.

All this social justice warrior bullshit.

I mean, I'm sure he wants
to believe that this homicide

is doing some greater good, but it's no.

It's revenge.

Just not sure what for.

Norrie Erskine worked at Adrey House Hotel

between October 1992 and March 1993.

He was there at the same time
as Ritchie Gulliver,

William Durie
and Christopher Piggot-Wilkins.

Let's go.

It's about an incident
that might have occurred here

30 year ago.

Does the name --
Does the name Norman Erskine

mean anything to you?

It was obviously before your time,

but he worked here back then.

I've only worked here
a couple of years. You know,

my brief was to come in
and modernise the place

but retain that classical feel, you know,

shabby chic.

I'm sure you've been very successful.

But Norman Erskine?

Speak to our catering manager, Michelle.

She's worked here for years.

You'll find her downstairs

in Jurassic Park, as we call the kitchen.

Ah, that busy legal life --

Oh, get off!

Oh, it's you.

Moira? What the fuck?

Angus?

What the fuck?

You can't just burst in.

What's all this?

You don't live here anymore.

Is this taramasalata made from scratch?

Angus, I've told you how things are now.

Please respect that.

Respect?

And what respect have I been shown?

I'm going to give you two
some space to talk.

Thanks.

I'm really sorry for your loss.

Thank you.

How can I help you?

We've got a few questions
for you about Norman Erskine.

Worked here 30 years ago.

Oh!
Norrie Erskine?

The panto guy.

Christ I remember him alright.
Do I now.

Couldnae keep his hands to himself.

Anything specific?

Well my tits and arse for one.

That was how it was in them days.

How did that make you feel?

To be honest, it never bothered me.

Five brothers but ay.
Water off a duck's back,

and I gave as good as I got.

But some people
might have found it offensive.

Oh, aye, there were some
poor lassies it got to.

Can you tell us more about that?

Hospitality back then
was about tits and teeth.

If you werenae comfortable with
that, you wouldnae last long.

So we'd a fair turnover.

Anything specific spring to mind?

Anyone tha Erskine may have upset?

I remember this waitress,

she wasnae here long,

a student on Christmas cover.

But she accused a group of guests

of sexually assaulting her.

And she pointed the finger
at Norrie Erskine, as well.

- What happened?
- It was a long time ago,

but these were regular guests
and they paid big money.

Young guys.

Thought that money meant they
could do whatever they wanted.

You know the type.

And she was just a young lassie.

Why do you remember this girl?

I kent by her face,

something terrible had happened.

Oh, I believed her, awright.

What was her name?

Do you know, I cannae mind.

Sarah something, I think.

But I might have a photo at home
on one of our staff piss ups.

I always take a lot of photos
at the Christmas bashes here.

I could look them up tonight
for you if it'd help.

That would certainly be
a huge help. Thank you.

We've both known this
marriage is over a long time.

Maybe you did.

I gave up the rat race
so you could keep going.

Oh, not this again.

You gave up

because you wanted to fanny
about with food.

I thought...

If I was happy, then we'd be happy.

Well, Angus, now we know that my happiness

isn't contingent on yours,
nor should yours be on mine.

I get it.

I've been a big disappointment to you.

It's hardly been a disaster.

We've got two great kids.

One of whom barely speaks to us

and the other can't stand to be
in the same house as me.

Murdo, he acts all tough,

but he's just trying to brazen that out.

And Fraser thinks
he's Billy Big Bollocks, but...

He's just our wee boy.

And he needs us.

They're both...
They're lost, Jack.

Let's get Gill cross-referencing

the staff records, looking for any girl

matching that description who
worked back then with Erskine.

We also need the guest records,
too, if they go back that far.

So Maslow is avenging an abused woman,

sister, wife, mother?

And as you said,
the social vengeance stuff

- just doesnae fit.
- Yeah.

He's toying with us.

Sexual assault claim
makes sense of the M.O., but...

But the killer is a man.

What does that mean?
What does that mean?

The display of the bodies
suggests he believes

they're sexual predators
hiding in plain sight.

You have come a long way,
Inspector Drummond.

All thanks to you, Ray.

Last night, it was...

It's complicated.

If you wanted to try it again

and see if it feels less complicated...

I'll let us both down.

I know -- I know that I-I crossed a line.

You're a difficult man,
Ray Lennox.

Can you, er, can you drive me somewhere?

I-I need to go and see someone.

I just wanted to apologise.
For the kiss.

I was upset.

I just didn't think
you'd want to see me again.

Come in.

You know, those --
Those things I told you,

I've never told anyone before.

Is that why you felt compelled to kiss me?

I needed...

I needed to feel something good.

One of my colleagues...

Was found murdered today.

And then I discovered he was a nonce.

Do you think sex is at the root
of everything we do?

Maybe.

Tell me about your colleague.

Did he deserve to die?

We're supposed to protect
people fre pain and horror

of somebody like Norrie.

It's the only thing
that scares me, is that...

I really understand this killer.

He's shaming us and

he's the one
that's making the world safer.

Was your colleague's death
a just act of revenge?

I don't know.

I know about revenge.

It obsesses me.

Those...

...Fucking monsters in the tunnel.

I look for them constantly.

I mean, I was...

I was just a kid.

Those moments when we're frozen...

Is it fear or weakness?

I resisted.

- I resisted.
- I resisted.

- They were men. There was...
- Three of them.

- They g-- They got Les.
- They got Les.

40 years, this has held you.

You've held yourself in this moment.

Who's damaged you more,

them or you?

No.

I'll bring them to justice.
I'll bring them to justice.

You've no evidence.

How will you feel when they walk free?

What then?

Will you take it into your own hands?

Yes. Yes.

And then what?

Your life's over, thrown away

because you can't take
responsibility for your pain.

Pack it up...and move on, Ray.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I can lead you to a conclusion.

But you have to look back
if you're to help yourself,

and you can't do that.

Again and again,
You fail to do that.

I do look back.

I do. I do look back.

No, you need the taste of blood.

An eye for an eye.

The terrified child in you
never walks free till you do.

Look into the eyes of that terrified child

and tell me who's betrayed
that child the most.

Is it the abuser
or is it you who imprisoned him

in that moment, for four decades?

I'm trying.

I'm trying...
To do the right thing.

Grow up, Ray.

Whether sex workers are exploited women

or liberated, empowered women.

It's a question that divides feminists.

You must not succumb to the devil's wrath,

for he wants you to burn with him.

Let every person be quick
to hear Lord speak.

And...

I hear Tommy Stark's
coming on the show again.

Yes, I'm gonna record later.

What about you?

You'll do the show?

I've been thinking about it, and, yes...

...On one condition.

I'm a police officer.

And as such, I'm telling you

that you are
in the deepest. Possible. Shit.

We don't know what you're talking about.

We live our lives in accordance
with the scriptures.

- Aye?
- Oof!

Pay attention to yourself.

"If your brother sins
against you, rebuke him.

And if he repents, forgive him."

Confession.

That's your repentance.

Or I fucking rebuke big time.

You've come from Amanda --

We've only taken what's rightfully ours.

We deserve compensation for
the trauma she put us through.

My girlfriend shouldn't
be forced to view such filth.

She can't take it.

What sort of filth are we talking about?

It was porn.

Sending that stuff without
the consent of both parties

was a criminal offence.

Keep. Fucking. Talking.

Amanda. She --

She manipulated him.
It was the devil's work.

Made him do things with her.

I went into therapy to recover.

Oh! Fuck.

Look, please.
We can give her money back.

Let me see that fucking tape.

I'm trying to help you.

Hmm. The sisterhood.

Us working together to expose
the likes of Tommy Stark.

Well, yeah.

But you're not a sister.

You're a cop, just like Stark.

Why should I help you?

What have the likes of you ever done

to help the likes of me,
DI Drummond?

What do you want me to say?

What I want is for you to stop acting

like you've come here on a white horse.

I've had this bullshit from cops forever.

So don't insult the both of us

and just admit that you're only
here because you need something.

Right. You've made your point.

Not entirely.

My point is, don't take the piss.

Now, what exactly do you need?

Well, now...

I take a very dim view of fellow officers

indulging in such activities.

You see, like you,

I consider myself
a disciple of Jesus Christ.

You do realise that blackmailing someone

over a pornographic tape is a sin?

Has the gospel taught you nothing?

I told you this would be a fucking mess.

Don't give me that.
The blackmail was your idea.

You wanted to bring
that fucking Jezebel down

- as much as I did --
- Shut it! The pair o' yous!

Now...forgiveness.

That is the very essence

of the Christian faith, is it not?

What was it the Bible says?

Aye, as Christians,

it is your duty. To. Forgive.

Aye?

For if you forgive other people
when they sin against you,

your...

Heaven-- Heavenly Father
will also forgive you.

That's Matthew 6:14.

Very nice.

What are you going to do?

Forgive.

I don't want to arrest you.

And I don't want your money.

How can we expect
to maintain law and order

with sinners such as that
wee fucking whore Drummond

in the police?

Eh?

I want everything.
You've. Got. On. Her.

And you...

You. Need. To. Be.

Brought. Back. Into.

The. Faith.

Still fighting the good fight?

My life is shit with alcohol in the mix.

But not always great without it, eh.

I'm trying to solve the multiple murder

of the worst scum
I can think of.

I've let so many people down.

You're doing an impossible job.

And you're actually doing it quite well.

Four men are dead.

Any drinks?

Erm, just a black
Earl Grey, please.

No.

I thought I was ready to be back.

I'm ready for nothing.

Don't talk like that, Ray.

I think my therapist was right.

I'm letting old patterns creep back in.

Therapy traps you,

holds you in your trauma.

If I'd continued therapy, Lauren
wouldn't be sitting here today.

It's a difficult thing to leave
something behind,

even if it's caused you the most pain.

She's been a life belt for me -- Sally.

She's -- She's -- She's all
that's kept me afloat.

Has she fuck. Those people
won't help you, Ray.

Look at me.

You say you want to know who you are?

Well, who you are is
the best man I have ever met.

And you need to set yourself free.

There's a look in their eyes, you know?

Just for a beautiful split second.

When all their stupid vanity
stares them in the face

and laughs right back at them.

In exactly the same way
they laughed at others.

Where do you think
these delusions come from,

these ideas of grandeur?

I saw you with Lennox last night.

Ray Lennox is a client.

That's all.

Well, the person who protects the monster,

who undermines
what you're trying to build,

they become the monster themselves.

That person must be stopped.

Er, I tidied up, Uncle Ray.

Hoping it -- it's better now.

The match is on telly.
Shall we watch it together?

You should go home.
Thanks for tidying up.

- But, Uncle Ray, what is it?
- I just need my own space.

Are you sure you're okay?

You're not going a bit, you know...

Like last time?

Just get the fuck.

You self-indulgent little fucking clown.

Fuck off!

Fuck off!

Fraser.

The fuck do you want?

A wee word about tomorrow's interviews.

Don't. Bother. Turning. Up.

I know men like you, Stark.

Look. We have to work together.

Whether one of us gets the Chief
Super job or neither of us do.

Oh, I know all about you.

The sex tape.

You. Filthy. Wee. Fox. Churchy.

You're no slouch
in that department yourself.

Vice?

Where the fuck do I begin?

Oh, yeah.

That was --

Come on. Come on.
Don't stop. Don't stop.

Where the fuck did you get that?

A Serious Crime police officer fucking

witnesses to serious crimes cases.

Not divulging this interest

is not only a disgrace, it's jail time.

Awright, Drummond.

No one needs to see those tapes.

I agree.

A pact.

If you get the Super job...

...I transfer quietly.

And if you get the Super job,

it'll be a fucking pleasure
for me to transfer quietly.

Men like you, Stark, you'll get yours.

Might be sooner than you think.

My fucking family,

they're all as bad as each other.

Armando.

There you go, Vic.