Original subtitles

Mr Devlin, is this your daughter, Katherine?

Yes. I got phone calls. Threats.

- When can we get on with our work? - Who are you?

Mark Hanley, site director.

Have you noticed anything unusual around the site recently?

Mainly I remember the tracksuit.

Blue. French blue.

Any link between this and the three kids in 85? Even a vague one?

What happened to us and Katy's murder, they're connected.

Whatever you were planning, whatever you were thinking of doing, don't.

Who's going to make the association between little Irish Adam

and English Rob?

No more, Lexie, OK. You've been warned.

Help me. Please?

Sandra Sculley, Jonathan's old girlfriend works at the Ballet School.

She says she doesn't know Jonathan and Margaret.

Why would she lie?

Come on, faster.

Keep up, Adam.

Quick, hide, they're coming.

Shane? Shane!

Keep up, I'm not your mammy waiting on you...

There's someone here, Jonny. Someone laughing at us.

- What? Where? - I don't know.

Someone laughing.

I can hear someone laughing.

It's Cathal. Jesus, it's Cathal.

I always have to wait for you. Dragging me down, move.

Let's go.

Just drive, just drive, who cares if you hit her, just drive.

Get out of the way, Alicia.

Where's Jamie? Where's my daughter?

Where's Peter?

What did you do?

Thank you for calling the Garda line

in regard to our investigation into the murder of Katy Devlin.

Please leave any information you have after the tone,

including your name and contact details if you are willing to do so.

Any information will be dealt with in confidence.

It's crowded with trace, noisy with it.

Fibres, hair, skin, saliva, sweat.

And what about Adam's T-shirt, socks and trainers from 85?

Rob, you're not going to hear back about them for a while

and, even then, it's unlikely we'll get any DNA off them,

they're completely degraded, but that's what happens if you

store blood evidence in a paper bag in a damp basement for 20 years.

21.

Can I get some more uniforms up here for the last night?

You getting trouble?

Some dickheads.

The two uniforms we've got up here are useless, a pair of fat arses.

So, I want more while we're wrapping up the site.

It's probably kids.

It doesn't sound like kids, it's freaking out my team

and not doing that much for me, so can I have extra uniforms, yes or no?

Yes, of course, Sophie, I'll call O'Kelly and get them sent up.

I'm ratty.

Been here way too long.

It's fine.

Sandra Sculley is on her way home, we need to pay her a visit.

How much longer?

When are you going to be out of my way?

It takes as long as it takes.

Dr Hanley, a little suggestion.

Just for one day, can you not be such a massive dick?

Thanks so much.

- You should do a self-help book. - I know, I'd be deadly.

I'm a journalist.

I know.

Any time you need me, I'm here, because I know.

Thanks, Alicia.

All right, so I didn't tell the truth but...

What was I going to say?

"Once upon a time, I used to wank Jonathan Devlin off in the woods?"

I was trying to be nice for once in my life, you know.

Discreet.

You clean the ballet school, how could you not have seen

and spoken to him?

I clean when it's closed.

I don't talk to anyone apart from Miss Cameron.

Why did you and Jonathan break up?

Because we were kids.

You fancy each other, then you don't.

Did you know Margaret before she married Jonathan?

No.

Can you remember where you were the night the children disappeared in 1985?

Why are you asking about those poor little bastards?

Were you still going out with Jonathan at the time?

We'd split by then.

I was here with my Ma and Da

and then he went out searching with all the other men.

For all the good it did.

Miss Sculley, did Jonathan Devlin get you pregnant?

That old bitch, Mrs Fitzgerald, right?

Good Catholic woman, my gash.

She's evil and you don't want to believe a single thing

that comes out of her mouth.

If that's it, I have an evening shift in the pub.

I need to get changed.

- That was a bit direct. - She didn't say she wasn't pregnant.

But even if she was, what does that have to do with Katy?

It's the lies, Cass.

The lies have to do with Katy.

God's sake!

What are you doing here, Mr Boyle?

Just saw your car parked up, wondering why you'd be talking to...

Sandra Sculley.

What's the story?

Just background information.

Do you have a suspect yet? A suspect in Katy's murder?

I can be a friend.

Because everyone's being nice right now, but, pretty soon,

if you don't give them a suspect, they'll turn.

You don't want this being another 1985, do you?

I mean, those two detectives got spat at in the street.

Sounds like a threat to me.

And me.

- Are you threatening us, Mr Boyle? - Oh, this is good.

I like this, the way I have to keep turning my head to talk to yous both.

Ooh, I'm dizzy, I can't concentrate, my poor neck!

No... just, not threatening,

just laying out the way it all works, the way we all know it works.

Between us.

Move along, Mr Boyle.

Don't hassle these people.

There's not a chance that someone like that,

someone really bloody minded, could dig around long enough...

To find me?

No, I made sure of that a long time ago.

Alicia Rowan hasn't seen you properly yet.

Not face-to-face.

Why should her seeing me be any different than Jonathan or Sandra?

Because they were teenagers.

You were Jamie's best friend, and women, mothers,

look at children's faces differently.

It'll be all right, Cassie.

This the number that made the alleged intimidatory

phone calls to Jonathan Devlin and threatened Katy.

Basic mobile unit purchased with the sole intention of calling that number.

All day, every day.

It's not like they're going to answer.

The question is, who made the phone calls?

Who had a vested interest in Jonathan Devlin shutting up,

fucking off?

That could be anyone involved in the construction of the motorway.

And that anyone could be...

The man Damian Donnelly saw in the woods.

Described as late '30s early '40s.

The man in the French blue tracksuit.

Assuming he exists and isn't a figment of the imagination.

Donnelly hasn't been able to make an identification, but maybe

he isn't known to us because he isn't on a sex offenders register.

But maybe people know him through the motorway.

See, I don't get what this motorway is doing.

It goes from Knocknaree down through Wicklow and straight through

Glenskehy. Now, there's nothing in Glenskehy, it's all farms.

Take a drive down to Glenskehy, show people that drawing,

see if anyone recognises him.

See if he's approached anyone about selling their land.

Ask if anyone's had threatening phone calls.

Will do.

Quigley, you're up.

OK, so, all the records from the Peter, Jamie and Adam case

are out of chronological order, proper chaos, but

thanks to some stellar police work and a lot of fried chicken,

we have these.

Over the course of three interviews in 1985,

Cathal Mills, Jonathan Devlin and Margaret Byrne,

as she was then, hold their story.

Shane Waters doesn't so much change his story but he cries

and when he asks to go to the toilet, he smacks his face

off the wash basin and has to go to the hospital to get stitched.

Interesting.

This is during the second interview?

Right, but by the third, he's back on track, sticking to the story.

Someone got to him, one of the others put the pressure on.

But what can they do, those two old detectives?

Adam can't identify who attacked him, and did God knows what

to Peter and Jamie, so the three boys and Margaret get shelved.

Shane Waters needed seven stitches.

He wasn't playing.

We'll ask Jonathan Devlin about that, after the funeral.

It's good work.

What happened to Adam after all this?

Do you know where he is?

The family changed their name and moved to England.

Drawn a blank after that because they're not there now.

OK.

Sorry.

We're neck deep in it together, Rob.

Let's try this number again.

Shit!

Come on, get off the phone.

- Hey. - Lexie, where are you?

Yeah, I'm coming. Nearly home.

Jessica.

What's she wearing?

Her favourite practice dress.

The pale blue one.

A white cardigan.

They've taken such good care of her, Rosalind. Haven't they?

Oh, that's lovely.

Simone, that's so perfect.

So perfect.

Who chose that?

I did.

And you chose this.

We did.

Is it lined?

Of course it's lined.

With pink.

Pale pink silk.

No.

It's dark blue velvet.

But that's not right.

They'll have to take her back...

...and do it again because I want pink.

Pale pink silk.

- They'll have to take her back. - Mummy, please.

This is you, isn't it?

Always you.

You stole my daughter.

You were stealing her to go away and now you're stealing her again.

I wanted pink!

What are you doing here?

You shouldn't be here.

You're a thief, and a robber, and I don't want you here...

- She has every right to be here! - It's fine. It's fine.

Don't touch her!

Simone has paid for everything and she loved Katy and Katy loved her!

I should have been consulted.

Why wasn't I consulted?

And why is it blue and not what I wanted, which was pink!

- Pink satin! - I'm pink!

I'm pink! Katy's favourite colour is blue, stupid!

She's blue and I'm pink! Stupid!

It's just her new pills, she doesn't mean it.

It's all right, Rosalind.

I should have been consulted.

You were asleep.

Like you're always asleep.

I'm not asleep.

I'm ill.

Reilly.

The old detective, McCabe, the one that kept

working on Knocknaree '85 pretty much up to his death?

I found this and I don't know what to do with it.

Well, what is it?

"There's something here and it hates us.

"It is malevolence.

"Those children were taken as a tithe. As a reckoning.

"To settle an account.

"We are never going to find them.

"This place is laughing at us."

Well, he had cancer. It must have been the morphine talking.

He wrote this two years into the investigation.

1987.

What do we do with this?

I'm supposed to put anything new into evidence

but it's one of our own sounding like he barks at the moon.

Lose it.

It's not going to do any good.

Lose it.

- No, I meant I'll er... - Gone.

Never saw it.

He keeps his reputation.

Quigley.

It's a waste of your time being down in the basement,

we need you up here.

O'Neill could do with an extra pair of hands.

You'll tell O'Kelly I did a good job, though?

Five-star report.

O'Neill, where are you, you sexy bastard!

He'll wreck your head, you know.

I don't mind Quigley, he's all right.

He makes me laugh.

Listen, at some point, he's going to tell you that

me and Rob are at it.

Like nonstop.

It's standard bollocks, Cassie.

I know it's bullshit.

I know you know, I'm just...

...saying.

What?

I think a lot of you. Like, a lot.

I have oyster sauce dripping down my chin.

What you should be thinking is "Where's the escape route?"

Too soon?

I can wait.

Another beer?

Yeah.

Christ, I hate the country.

And the country hates you, too.

Why does this place even need a motorway, huh?

What the fuck?!

He gets about with his paint pot.

Is it one person, or a group of people doing this?

In sure and certain hope

of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ,

we commend to Almighty God our sister Katharine,

and we commit her body to the ground.

Earth to earth,

ashes to ashes,

dust to dust.

The Lord bless her and keep her,

the Lord make his face to shine upon her and be gracious to her,

the Lord lift up...

You are out of order. Move on.

...and give her peace.

Jesus, she's looking right at you.

And now she's not.

Doesn't know me.

Told you.

There's plenty from the dig here.

No Mark Hanley, though.

Who lives here?

Students, according to this.

Own it.

Students own this?

Well, if your man had been seen round here, they'd remember him.

Why, cos they're students and all clever?

Let's go to the pub.

Buy the locals a few drinks.

No-one's talking to us, no-one wants a drink.

I'll come back another day.

Early morning. Farmer time.

Turn up when they're starting work, know my way round a dairy herd,

they might drop their guard.

Detective and teat-tugger? Multi-talented.

I'm a Renaissance Man. Now, relax, eat your crisps.

Don't come in.

There's a couple of detectives.

They're asking about the land deals.

Shit.

Keeping your head down?

Try and be a bit discreet, Lexie.

We need to identify the man who made phone calls to you.

Can you tell us anything more about his voice? Accent, age range?

Any distinctive vocabulary?

Standard Dublin. Just...

You know, standard.

Look, that man who was seen at the dig, lurking about,

you've got a description of him, why isn't his face all over the news?

We have to be very careful about releasing images.

No-one wants an innocent person beaten to a pulp because they bear

- a vague resemblance to a drawing. - Innocent?

Jesus Christ. You have nothing.

You have nothing and no-one.

What are you doing? What are you actually doing?

Are you still in touch with Cathal Mills and Shane Waters?

What?

No, not for years.

Do you remember Jamie, Peter and Adam?

Of course I bloody do.

During Shane's second interview in 1985,

he smashed his face on a washbasin and had to go to hospital,

- why do you think he did that? - I don't know.

We'd like to ask Shane about it, where would we find him?

Dead, probably.

The last I heard, he was on the needle. What are you asking me

- about them for? - It's just part of our job, Mr Devlin.

And if you think of anything, you let us know.

We should go by the dig.

Remind Damien Donnelly not to give out descriptions of Tracksuit Man,

especially not to journalists,

no matter how important it makes him feel.

Jonathan's lying.

About not being in touch with Shane and Cathal.

I don't think so.

Gut feeling he was telling the truth about that.

What if his campaign against the motorway isn't about land fraud

and corruption? It's because he knows bulldozers will uncover

- Peter and Jamie's bodies. - He supports the dig.

The dig's not a threat to him, it's in the wrong place.

Shit. It's my mum. She wants to see me.

Well, text her back like a good son

and tell her you'll meet her, and I'll come too.

Jonathan?

There was one fairy called Ierla, his best friend was Aine,

who was a fairy princess.

Ierla and Aine played every day.

What did they say?

They asked about the three kids.

I haven't talked to any journalists and I wouldn't, anyway.

You know, you told me not to, so of course I wouldn't.

OK, that's great, thanks, Damien.

Erm, do you want me to look at anyone? Like, in a line-up?

No not yet, but, as soon as we do, we'll get you in.

Well, whenever you need me.

You know? Just want to do the right thing.

You didn't go to the funeral, Dr Hanley. Everyone else went.

I haven't set foot in a church since I was nine years old

and worked out it was bullshit. Power and control.

Nothing more than brain washing and keeping people in their place.

Nothing changes in this country.

Where did you find this?

In the woods.

I put it up as a sort of mascot.

But where in the woods? You must keep a record.

We don't catalogue rubbish.

From here on in, I decide what's rubbish.

Anything you find that's not related to the dig, you give to me.

Found a bobble hat full of human turds, you want a look at that?

Hi.

She made the front page, then.

"Mothers Of Knocknaree."

Brave Alicia.

That was always going to happen, Clare.

She's going to start on you again. I know she is.

She's going to start saying all those things about you again.

There's nothing I can do about that.

There's nothing you can do about it, either.

I was thinking... a letter to the papers, giving my side, our side...

Jesus Christ, no, have you lost your mind?

Playing the heroine, what about what she did to us?

You write some letter giving your side,

you won't just fuck yourself, you will fuck me up, too.

Don't curse at me, Adam.

- Don't call me that. - It's your name.

And yours is Clare Reilly but you changed it to Clare Hogan

so you could come home without people pointing at you.

Rob, stop.

You can't do it, Clare.

I'm sorry, but you just can't.

She's behind everything. The fire-setting,

the stone-throwing, all of it was her,

why should she get away with it?

Because she never saw her child again

and yours is sitting right in front of you.

I should go.

I make him angry.

- No, you don't. - You're a bad liar, Cassie.

Thank you.

Why is this shit so hard?

She's just being your mum, Rob.

She thinks I'm a bad liar.

The state of us.

The only ones to get out alive and trying to work out why.

It's quite common, really. People visiting murder sites

for the purposes of sexual gratification.

He says people, he means men.

Masturbating where bodies have been found,

- especially women and children. - That supposed to shock me?

- It isn't what I was doing. - What were you doing?

- You wouldn't understand. - Try us, Mark.

Dr Hanley.

The DNA sample you were obliged to give us when you came in,

I've got the feeling it's going to match samples taken from the woods.

Strands of hair found by the remains of a campfire

like the one you lit tonight. Would they be yours?

I've slept out there a couple of nights, it's not illegal.

There's also samples taken from the altar. Sweat.

Saliva.

Would yours be among them?

We eat our lunch there sometimes.

And semen.

Is that going to match with trace taken from the clothes

and hair of Katy Devlin? Sweat. Saliva. Semen.

Would they be yours? Mark?

I didn't touch her. I didn't.

Why would I do a thing like that?

I've got no idea, but, you have to admit,

dancing stark-bollock naked covered in cut-price Merlot round an altar

where a murdered 13-year-old girl has been found is not a good look.

Do you know what Knocknaree means?

- It means The Hill of the King. - What king?

What we're looking for is millennia older than the trees

that it's buried under. The diggers are coming in December.

Time is running out.

I sleep in the woods to be close to the place.

To hear its heartbeat, because it's alive.

It lives and breathes.

And I make an offering.

- An offering of what? - Of myself.

To the King. Whoever they are.

Asking for favour, for a miracle...

...because if we don't get a miracle, we're going to lose that place.

The altar will end up in a museum

and the rest of it will get ripped apart,

filled up with concrete, covered in tarmac.

It'll all be lost.

Does this offering include your ejaculate?

- Did you masturbate over a dead girl? - Christ, no!

But you didn't go to Katy's funeral.

Yeah, I already told you why.

- But you know Jonathan. - Yes.

Did Jonathan talk to you about what happened

to the children in the woods? Did he talk to you about Knocknaree 1985?

- Is that why you were at the altar? - What are you talking about?

Where were you on August 24th between midnight and 2am?

Erm, I was at a house party. Everyone was.

According to statements, you left at approximately 10:45pm.

- Where did you go? - Home.

Can anyone verify that?

And where were you between midnight and 7:45am

on the 25th of August when Katy's body was found?

- Home. - Can you prove it?

Interview suspended.

You went for that,

the whole "offerings" speech.

We do the same.

Every new case, don't we?

A glass of whiskey from O'Kelly and a toast to the murder gods,

may they reveal their fucking secrets. He's not so strange.

The night of the 24th and 25th of August, I was with Mark.

In his house.

Why didn't he just say that?

For the benefit of the tape, we are being shown a wedding ring.

I don't wear it at work.

He's a really decent guy and he'd be devastated.

And I have a child.

That's why Mark didn't say anything.

But if you took a DNA swab from him, then you should take one from me as well,

because I'll be all over that altar.

It's that place, it makes you wild.

Is there any way this, me and Mark, could be kept confidential?

Your evidence will be on record but

I don't see the need to interfere in your personal life.

Interview terminated.

Thank you.

Well, there we are.

Oh, guess who just did their online booking.

6:35am flight from Berlin,

landing in Dublin 9:05?

It's our elusive friend, Cathal Mills.

- You want picking up? - Yeah, and bring coffee.

Reilly.

Detective, it's Simone Cameron.

Can you come and meet me?

I haven't reopened yet but I was doing some work

and Rosalind was here, she likes to help out and we were talking.

About nothing, really, and...

Oh, God, my hands are shaking.

Suddenly, Jessica says about this man...

...this man who said that Katy was pretty,

and did she want to see some kittens.

We put on music. It calms her.

Can you and Rosalind get her to tell the story again with us there?

She has to say it in her own words.

We'll try.

Look at me dancing!

- I'm a beautiful swan! - You are very beautiful.

Would you get Jessica to tell the story?

Can you do it?

Why are they here?

They've come to watch us dancing.

- Like Katy. - Like Katy.

Jessica, darling, can you tell us the story of the man again?

It wasn't a story, it happened.

I know, but tell us again.

Oh, Jess, please.

The man said to Katy,

"You're a pretty.

"Come with me, I have kittens." And Katy said we have to go now.

But I wanted to see the kittens but Katy said there aren't

any kittens, we're going home.

Then what did the man do then?

He was behind us.

Katy told me not to turn around.

And then he wasn't behind us any more and we went home.

Jessica, can you remember what the man looked like?

Can you remember what he was wearing?

Running clothes.

Like... he was going on a run

but he was just walking behind us like a lazy man.

Can you remember what colour running clothes?

Jess?

Blue, stupid!

Katy's colour.

They were blue.

The fact that the description comes from Jessica

means we can be certain this man exists.

So what happens now?

We cast the net wider for potential suspects.

It's a significant development, Mr Devlin.

We'll show ourselves out

but we're only a phone call away, if you need anything.

You didn't tell me you were talking to them.

I wasn't.

It was Jess.

It's good news.

Isn't it?

I'll go and check on Mummy.

Test results from Adam's clothes.

Slashes in T-shirt made with very fine sharp blade,

right-handed with a left angled curve. That's as much as I can tell you.

And the blood in the socks and trainers?

No new results. It's A-negative, same as Adam's.

Peter and Jamie were both O-positive,

but it can't be Adam's blood because he didn't suffer any blood loss

and he didn't have a single injury.

OK. Thanks for trying.

I've been doing this a long time,

but I've never seen a blade like the one used to cut the T-shirt.

And I have never seen a situation where blood comes from nowhere.

Blood comes from somewhere. Always.

From someone. Always.

I can't figure this one out. I'm sorry.

Sophie...

...the dickheads in the woods, what noises were they making?

- Forget I said anything, I was tired... - It's important.

They were laughing.

Was trying not to wake you.

I think a lot of you, too, you know,

I'm just rubbish at saying it.

I'll take that.

Now, go and make friends with farmers, Detective.

- Progress the investigation. - Yes, Ma'am.

Drive safe.

- Maddox. - Cassie?

Sam? What, is it? Have you had an accident?

- Cassie. - Yeah, what, is it?

Nothing. Nothing.

Pocket call. Sorry.

Jesus.

- Sam? - Get up, and get dressed.

Frank, why are you calling me?

There's a car outside. Get in it.

Wear something that covers your head. Do it now.

Thank you for calling the Garda line in regard

to our investigation into the murder of Katy Devlin.

Please leave any information you have after the tone.

You should be looking for Adam.

Ask Adam what he did in the woods.

You're going to get all the boys in a few years, Jamie.

What do you reckon, Cathal?

Jailbait.

Stop! Pervert.

Jonathan!

Hood.

Hood, the boss said!

He's in there.

Are you insane? Cassie, don't...

Her student card identifies her as Alexandra Mangan.

This is not some straightforward identify theft from some Jane Doe,

they could be twins!

Someone else saw the same man I did? The one in the tracksuit?

Why didn't she tell me about this man? I could have done something.

I wanted to ask if anyone here had ever seen this man hanging around?

- It's got nothing to do with me. - Are you sure?

Did you think that we were going to live normal lives?

That there'd never be a reckoning?

- What are you going to do about Sam? - Nothing. He's not a freak like you.

Change of plan.