All language subtitles for Wild.Bill.S01E06.720p.WEB.H264-DiMEPiECE

[choral humming]

200 grand in debt, this little farm.

I don't want any favours off you.

You've got something Oleg wants.

That cup could give me
cause for a mistrial.

It's inadmissible.

Cross contamination, no probable cause.

[Blair] That's where you came in,

he needed a result and you got him one.

The time was, a police officer cadet

would get two years' subsidised housing

and state-of-the-art leisure facilities

for the duration of his training.

Well, those days have long gone.

Thank Christ.

So, Tredmon Holdings
are going to take this

white elephant off our hands.

They're going to pay
for all the renovations.

And then they rent it back
to us at 56% off market rate.

You can only sell a property once.

25 years, Bill.

We'll be long gone.

I'll be in Phuket and you'll be

in Arizona on the fifth Mrs. Hixon.

Unless you've got a better idea.

Obviously.

[Keith] Obviously.

Why should anybody else take our profit?

I say we sell 160 of these residences

to our own officers and staff,

for a 5% down payment on
a mortgage we guarantee,

giving us the exact same
number you wanted me to cut.

Yeah, by firing cops.

600 salaries off my balance
sheet, you promised me.

But if we do this, we don't
have to cut a single cop.

This is the biggest police
district in the country

with the lowest police numbers.

600 cops isn't fat, it's muscle!

What's happened to you, hey?

I hired an ice-cold assassin.

You've turned out to be
more like fucking Bagpuss!

Why don't you stick to doing
what I hired you to do?

Firing cops, saving me money.

Leave all this complex
stuff to the experts, hey?

Yeah, well, that's the problem.

I've looked behind the curtain
here and there's no wizard.

[curious music]

[fire crackling]

[ominous humming]

Jesus Christ!

[horrific music]

Oh, no, no, no.

[groaning] This is shit!

Fuck!

[Broadbent] We have five victims.

[Bill] Jesus.

[Broadbent] An aversion to death?

Yeah, a healthy one.

I had enough of the smell
of burned flesh last night,

thank you.

The victims are all male,

approximately 30 to 50 years old.

[backlight whirring]

Nails in every one of them.

All in the back of the head.

The medulla oblongata.

They were executed.

[ominous music]

All five bodies are so far unidentified.

None are present on the
police DNA database.

Hey, close that.

We don't need some long-lens

journalist sticking this online.

The bodies were found burning
here at Tointon Turkey Farm.

Eric Tointon and his
family are in the Bahamas.

Well, what else is a turkey
breeder gonna do in January?

Isotopes from hair, teeth and skin

suggest the victims were living

in the UK prior to their deaths.

The presumed murder weapon
is an industrial nail gun.

When did this place become
a gangsters' paradise?

Since someone suggested
cutting police numbers in half.

We have very little time
before this gets out.

Someone out there knows something.

Who were these lads?

Who did this to them?

[door knocking]

Lydia, do you know Tredmon Holdings?

It's a hedge fund that specialises
in property development.

-Are You looking to invest?
-Huh.

I suppose that bonus isn't
going to spend itself.

Great excitement out there, Sir.

Five executions.

You've really brought the Florida swamps

to the Lincolnshire marshes.

I didn't kill them.

The thing is, this isn't Florida.

We don't have executions here,
let alone five in one go.

We don't have the resources
to investigate a serial killer

or a gangland feud or whatever this is.

Especially not now.

[nail gun bolting]

Your mother said I'd find you
in here, your happy place.

So, just an off-the-rack power tool, huh?

They must have modified it.

I mean, to get it to the
midbrain, you'd have to make

some pretty serious adjustments
on the factory's default.

This guy needs to be stopped.

I'm thinking National Crime Agency.

It's your FBI, that's who I'd be calling.

Organised crime's their job.

This is too big for us.

A buck passed is a buck lost.

That's what you've taught me.

I've done the research.

There was 11 nail gun fatalities
in ten years in the US.

There were four in Russia.

But in the UK, seven over nine years.

All traced back to the same man.

Frank McGill.

Born in Dublin in 1948?

He came to Manchester when he was 14.

He was involved in a series
of gang-related killings

in Moss Side, early '90s.

He was convicted in 1997,
three life sentences.

He'll be 71 years old now.

Is he in prison or dead?

Well, that's the gnarl of it, Sir.

There's no death record.

There's no sign of him in
any jail in these islands.

It's like he's disappeared.

You read about him.

What makes you think somebody else didn't?

It wasn't released, Sir.

It was only in police report.

We need to find Frank McGill.

[ominous music]

Prawn cocktail in a potato chip?

I will never understand you,
or the people you come from.

That's a first.

I also had a day of firsts today.

I had to recuse myself
from Her Majesty's bench.

Apparently, a senior
serving police officer

in the East Lincolnshire Constabulary

improperly obtained DNA
from a murder suspect.

You can see why I couldn't
hear the application.

Somehow DS Blair's defence team

got a coffee cup from my desk.

They're trying to discredit you, Bill.

Yeah, well, they'll try anything to

get Blair off, don't worry about me.

Frank McGill.

A nail gun?

Fuck me, who is this man?

A ghost.

He was convicted 20 years ago,

and there's no record of
him serving time anywhere.

He's just disappeared.

Extradited?

He's not on any PNC list.

Then Muriel found that.

Nine members of the Maguire gang,

convicted on the evidence
of an informant in 1997.

So he ratted out his own gang

and he's in witness protection.

Well, good luck with that.

Frank McGill doesn't exist any more.

I'll tell the five guys on the slab.

You could talk to the PPS.

If you convince them
there's strong evidence

he's committed another crime,
they might lead you to him.

But I wouldn't bet on it.

[foreboding music]

What's coming?

Frank McGill was a hit-man

for the Maguires back in the day.

A hit-man, what,

in witness protection
here in Lincolnshire?

Frank turned on them in '97.

He put half the family away.

Three died in jail.

Two are still serving time.

Terence Maguire, [speaking
foreign language],

dying in the medical wing of
Strangeways with dementia.

[groaning]

Nice.

[Sean] Who's the babe?

[Muriel] That's the boss'
missus, the lovely Pauline.

[Drakes] Lucky Terence.

Are you cleaning that
window, or jumping out of it?

You'd like that, wouldn't you?

You've been making inquiries into a man

you shouldn't be making inquiries into.

I've had the Home Office on.

Yeah, Frank McGill's a
suspect in multiple homicides.

Why won't they let us talk to him?

Well, I think that's witness protection.

You know, protecting the witness.

From us?

Who's protecting the
public from their witness?

You can't help yourself, can you, hey?

You can't help but draw attention to

yourself for all the wrong reasons.

Our friend Alex, DS Blair as
was, he's applied for bail.

His lawyers seem to think
that the conviction's unsafe.

Do you know why?

Police malfeasance.

Well, I'm sure it's all bullshit.

Yeah.

And I'm pretty sure that
he'll probably walk.

And if he does, that'll be down to you.

Well, at least I've got my friends.

The thing about friends is, Bill,

they tend to fuck off, you know,

when you start shitting on them.

[imposing music]

[Muriel] Sir.

Someone stole evidence from my desk.

I'm sorry, Sir.

It could be anybody,

the cleaning crew to
the Crime Commissioner,

with my open-door policy.

[Muriel] Maybe you've
made some new enemies.

Enemies in here who are friends

of the criminals out there?

Are you getting anywhere with

the protected person, Sir?

No.

No, and they've made it
very clear that I won't be.

They don't trust us.

We're just the tin hats.

We're on our own, Muriel.

Just you and me.

[Kelsey] I told you, Dr.
Marks, he's a narcissist.

I'm just trying to take responsibility.

For my actions!

For crying out loud, Kelsey,
give the man a chance.

He's come a long way.

Thank you.

A week ago, he was worried about

me finding out about his girlfriend.

Now he's worried that we're
going to get too close.

[Bill] I'm just trying
not to disappoint you.

You're just using me as
an excuse, like always.

I don't--

[Kelsey] An excuse to
move, an excuse to stay,

an excuse to not commit
to the woman you like.

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

[groaning]

All right, I do know what
you're talking about.

But...

you're not the only one who is

trying to live up to your mother.

Right?

It's hard to compete
with somebody who was...

[ethereal music]

Yeah?

You just wait for me to
make a mistake, don't you?

Yeah, I do.

And you so rarely disappoint.

What I'm hearing Kelsey say
is that she feels her father

has a problem with commitment.

It's not me, it's the people in my life.

They either die or try to commit suicide.

Kelsey's right.

You are something of a narcissist.

I don't need to pay to be
insulted, I live in England.

Okay, well--

[beeping]

What are you hoping to
get from gawping at them?

I want to know who they are.

Who they were.

Well, they're pretty rough on the outside.

I'd say they worked outdoors.

Rough on the inside, too.

Three of the livers
show signs of cirrhosis.

So, they're working-class lads who drank.

Sounds like 95% of my Facebook friends.

There is something out of whack.

The SCHAD levels.

Short Chain 3-Hydroxyacyl-CoA
Dehydrogenase.

Wow, you're, like,

one voice box away from Stephen Hawking.

They could speak of high insulin levels.

So, they were diabetic?

Not necessarily.

Abnormal SCHAD levels may just mean

they'd been exposed to extreme cold.

But, they were burned.

Maybe they were frozen first.

So, they could have been killed ages ago.

No, I don't think so.

Pound coin in this fella's shoe, 2019.

Huh.

He freezes them when he kills them

and then burns them
when the freezer's full.

But I think he enjoys it.

A nail gun to the back
of the head's who he is.

Great, so, why'd he show up in my patch?

Lincolnshire is an obvious choice

if you're trying to hide somebody.

Nobody comes round here unless

they want to do a Brexit survey

or run a dodgy medical trial.

Are you house-hunting, Sir?

I mean, you don't seem very interested.

We need to find him.

I think I just did.

1997, East Linc's Constabulary.

They sold one of their
empty residential units.

The only thing, they
didn't pay the stamp duty.

So?

When one Government
agency sells to another,

they don't pay the tax.

Who did we sell it to?

The National Crime Intelligence Service.

They bought Frank a house.

[tense music]

[sirens wailing]

[Muriel] We've got him, Sir.

[crashing]

[Sean] Police!

Stay where you are!

Check the back, over there!

Open that door!

[police yelling indistinctly]

All clear, Sir.

Well, he's long gone.

Now we know why the Home Office
didn't tell us where he was.

They lost track of him a decade ago.

I want this place finger-tip searched.

[police radio chatter]

Fuck me!

Sir!

Muriel!

My hand just went right through it.

And that fell out.

[horrific music]

Frank McGill was under the
witness protection alias

of Patrick Shawcross, for ten years.

He had a library card,
joined a snooker club,

registered with a GP.

The neighbours described him
as unremarkable, that he--

-Kept himself to himself.
-Kept himself to himself.

Until he was paid a visit
by our latest victim,

John Paul Cafferky, a Maguire hit-man.

[Sean] So, Frank murdered this
guy, then he done a runner.

So, if the Home Office can't find him,

how the hell will we?

He'll have gone off the grid, won't he?

So, he'll be sticking to cash,

no cards, no phones in his name.

No links to anyone alive.

And that's exactly how
we're going to find him.

And by we, I mean you, Muriel.

[curious music]

[fumbling]

All right, check his first name, Francis.

He may have kept that

to keep the lie close to the truth.

Check that against population records,

then exclude everybody with a credit card,

phone contract, Netflix account.

26,422.

That many?

Mm, we're rural folk.

Farmers hate banks and credit cards.

They hate utility companies, too.

Well, he's got to live somewhere.

Check the Land Registry, post-2002.

We're looking for isolated dwellings,

a thousand feet away from
the nearest neighbour,

far away from any arterial
roads and major intersections.

[sighing]

7,631.

It turns out it's not
that easy to find people.

[thunder crackling]

[rain pattering]

[animal wailing outside]

[ominous music]

Hello?

[keyboard clacking]

[Frank] Don't move.

Is there anyone else in this house?

No.

[Frank] You're a bad liar,
which is good to know.

It's a little late for an old

man to be out, isn't it, Frank?

[Frank] I was never much of a sleeper, me.

Yeah, too many men on your conscience.

[Frank] Not just men.

You were poking around my old gaff.

Yeah, we thought a nail gun
killer might live there.

And then, lo and behold.

[Frank] That was the last
guy that was looking for me.

You stay away from me.

Don't look for me.

Don't ask about me.

Don't open my file again.

Or I will come for you
and everyone you know.

You think, by scaring me,

you're going to keep the
police away from you?

You had a chance to live a
straight life, you blew it.

[Frank] I didn't have a chance.

My associates would never let me be.

So, when they came for you,

you put the first one in the wall.

Then you lit the other five on fire?

[Frank] What the fuck
are you talking about?

There was one man.

So, there's another nail gun psychopath

lighting men on fire and
leaving them in turkey farms?

[Kelsey] Dad?

Who Are You talking to?

Nobody!

I'm on the phone.

You should go to sleep.

Are you going to work all night?

You need to sleep, too.

I will.

We could talk.

I can't.

It's just, I've been selfish.

If you wanted to talk about Mom?

Kelsey.

Okay, nice talking to you, too.

Now, you touch one hair on her...

[eerie music]

[kids chattering]

So, Alex wanted me to go
to his, after school today.

Yeah.

Yeah, I think That would be good.

Okay.

Kelsey--

No, I get It, Dad.

You don't want to talk, like, ever.

If anything were ever to happen to me.

[school bell ringing]

What?

I mean, it is a dangerous job.

Uh huh, right, like when
a screen falls on you?

How dangerous is a spreadsheet?

Kels?

Kels!

Excuse me, is this yours?

[Bill] Yes, thank you.

You must have dropped it.

[foreboding music]

[electric gate whirring]

Where's Frank McGill?

An outlaw comes onto
your territory, a killer.

And you come to me?

So, you do know him.

Yes, I do my job.

I knew when they placed
him here in protection

and I knew when they lost him.

Where is he now?

Ah, they say he does it like that.

To the back of the head.

[exhaling sharply]

So they don't get to make
their peace with God.

If he's working for you--

Why would I employ a
70-year-old hit-man, huh?

I can hire an Albanian for 120 euro.

Is that all you came for, really?

You don't want to know
who took that little cup,

and gave it to Sergeant Blair's solicitor?

Go on.

It hurts to be betrayed.

[gavel hammering]

[Judge] Mr Blair, you're being released

on bail of £30,000.

Please register your
address with the clerk.

All rise.

Well, that was uniquely humiliating.

Have you got any idea how this
Blair thing makes me look?

Like a dick again.

Have you ever made a mistake,

but you're in too deep to see a way out?

I've got three of them at home,

but they're too big to put in a sack

and throw in the canal.

You've always been very straight with me.

I appreciate your wise counsel.

You've never listened to a word I've said.

No, I know, but I
appreciate you saying it.

Hixon was a mistake.

The yank's got to go.

I've learned me lesson.

Local cops for local crime.

The west of the county
is in the shit as well.

So, I was thinking, maybe
we should pool resources.

Bring it all under one roof.

Are you saying you want me as Chief?

No, I want Joe Watkins as Chief.

He's got a lot of experience, hasn't he?

He's got--

A penis.

Well, yeah.

That is a factor.

I mean, it's not a policy.

But it's a personal preference, yeah.

And that makes it okay?

Look, Joe Watkins will
do what he's always done.

He'll look after the west and he'll

let you run this side of the county.

You'll have complete control.

[ominous music]

[Muriel] Frank McGill came to your house?

That's the fourth time
you've asked me that.

And he claims he didn't do it?

He says.

I wasn't exactly in a
position to argue with him.

Well, it's bullshit, isn't it?

He's lying.

Well, let's keep this
between us, all right?

Until I can figure out what the

fuck is going on around here.

These are different to the one

you're playing with, aren't they?

How did you know that?

Something a little birdie
told me last night.

Well, my old prof used to say,

"Imagine breaking a bar
of chocolate, clean snap."

That's what happened to this fella.

He was alive until this
nail so rudely interrupted

the idle musings of his medulla oblongata.

Whereas these guys, crumbly like fudge.

Dead bone crumbles.

So, these guys were dead before.

The nail didn't kill them?

I've got a pretty good idea what did.

Alcoholic livers, lower body weight.

Significantly lower atherosclerotic grade.

It's what we see in homeless people.

You said they were frozen.

When homeless people come
in, no-one to claim them,

they go in the deep freeze.

So, someone took five
bodies from the deep freeze,

put nails in their head

and then burned them in
a Lincolnshire field?

Frank wasn't lying, this wasn't him.

Someone's working very hard
to make it look like it was.

We've been through this.

All the Maguires are in
jail or in the ground.

Terence and Pauline's
son, Terry Maguire Junior.

He's 24 years old, his
mother was murdered in a

gang tit-for-tat when he was two.

Nice family.

Terry lives in Birmingham now.

He's becoming something of a

player there himself, apparently.

I spoke to the CIO of Snow Hill Precinct.

They say Terry's a nasty little
psycho, but he's no fool.

Terry's built up his own Maguire firm

with some of the lads
he met on the inside.

They're into all sorts.

Armed robberies, drug
distribution, sex trafficking.

And now they're expanding.

So, Junior's trying to accomplish

what his old man never could do.

He's trying to get McGill to break cover.

And it worked, didn't it?

Frank came to your house.

I've seen him before.

[Lydia] Kelsey, your dad's here!

Those two seem to be getting along--

Keith wants You out.

Well, Keith wants a
La-Z-Boy for Christmas,

what do you care?

[Lydia] Well, why did he want you in?

You know.

Yeah, 600 job cuts.

You've gone a bit quiet about that lately.

It turns out we don't
have to cut 600 jobs.

Believe me, it's nothing sentimental.

It's just sound financial planning.

More than sound, actually.

What, and you've told Keith?

'Cause he wants to merge East and West,

bring in Joe Watkins to run both.

Really?

That shit bird?

Well, something stinks.

Yeah, Tredmon Holdings.

Keith has agreed to sell

the whole property portfolio to them.

We don't know who "them" is.

Well, you need to watch your back,

'cause he wants you out.

That's fine by me.

Really?

Because I have a funny notion you're

starting to feel at home here.

Thanks, Lydia.

All right, Morticia,
I'll see you tomorrow.

[Lydia] Not if I see you first.

You two seriously need to grow up.

[foreboding music]

It's mud.

What did you want to know?

Soil content.

Calcides, gypsum, limestone,
basic analytic footprint.

Sure, come back in a week

when I've sent it to the
Forensics Department.

I don't have a week.

Well, send it to your
backstreet boys like last time.

What?

Well, that's what she said
you did with the coffee cup.

What is this?

[mysterious music]

Iron, maybe.

Iron salt.

The only place I can think
of with that salinity,

Freiston Salt Marsh.

Hi, I'm sorry, Sir, traffic was a bitch.

Did she have anything for you?

No.

Sir?

[thunder crackling]

[heavy breathing]

Was I expecting you?

I wanted to see you.

Are you all right?

I'm about to do something very stupid.

I'm going to try to find a
psychopath in a salt marsh.

How about don't?

It's so funny how I trust you.

[laughing]

I mean, I only trust you.

You could always just stay here.

I know.

Bill!

Be careful.

[foreboding music]

[van whirring]

[country music]

[Frank] Hey, Colin,
have you got the stuff?

[Colin] Yes, it's all yours, mate.

[Frank] Let's go.

Cheers.

[engine starting]

[ominous music]

Muriel?

Fuck!

[music climaxing]

[thumping]

[shotgun cocking]

You came here on your own?

You fucking idiot.

Wait, wait!

Someone's trying to frame you.

No, they're not.

They're trying to find me.

Goddammit!

[woodpecker pecking]

I'm not used to visitors.

Yeah, I saw what you did to the last guy.

JP Cafferky.

Is that why you're here, to arrest me?

And how would that play out?

Well, on the one hand, I'm
approaching threescore and ten.

And on the other, I'm me.

The Maguires set you up.

Terence Maguire is dead, or as good as.

Not Terence the father.

Terry the son, he is
looking to set you up.

But I can help you if you come with me.

I have moved 23 times in 10 years.

I am done moving.

I don't want the Maguires
in my territory either.

If young Terence is
anything like his old man,

it'll take more than you to stop him.

Would you stop with the gunslinger shit?

I'm the Chief Constable

of a force of a thousand officers.

In the real world, that's what
we do, we bring criminals in.

I passed a cell tower on my way here.

What's wrong with your signal?

It comes and goes.

[generator purring]

Why did you turn on them, the Maguires?

So I could live in the lap of luxury.

It's not a bad set-up.

You've got your solar for hot
water, wind for electricity,

it smells like you've been
running your van on chip oil.

You remind me of the first lad I killed.

He wouldn't stop talking, neither.

Your file says you killed seven.

Those are just the ones we know about.

I've told you to stop talking.

Why do you kill them like that?

[crashing]

Haven't you heard?

So they wouldn't have time
to make their peace with God.

It's funny, you don't really strike me

as the religious type.

So, what type do I strike you as?

The type that shoots
nails into people's heads.

What makes you a cop, hey?

My dad was a cop.

Oh, old man's footsteps.

On the contrary.

I thought he was an idiot for
risking his life for 25 grand.

So I went the management route.

That's the dumbest thing I ever heard of.

We haven't spoken in five
years, even when my wife died.

Our generation knows that
talking don't cure anything.

Come with me.

We can prove you didn't
kill those five guys,

and the one in your
house was self-defense.

Then you help me find Terry Maguire.

We'll relocate you.

We'll put you somewhere more comfortable.

Sure.

Call your guys.

Young Terry's boys cut the mast.

Clever guy, they're coming.

What are you talking about?

They tripped my perimeter
wire 15 minutes after you did.

[foreboding music]

Where is he?

He's not answering his phone
and he didn't pick up his

daughter from school.

Good things are coming, Muriel.

Great riches.

And you are a part of it.

I'm done.

Take my farm if you want.

I won't work for you.

No-one gave me a chance before him.

Not any more, he's gone.

Where?

To Frank?

You don't even know where Frank is.

But you do know where Terry
Maguire is, don't you?

I imagine he went to kill the
man who murdered his mother.

Frank murdered Terry's mother?

Christ, Bill's going
to walk right into it!

Body armour, are you kidding me?

There's one road into these
woods and one road out.

You can take your chances over the marsh.

So, what's his grudge?

Young Terry has his reasons.

But he was just a baby when you left.

Is it just because you
rooted out his old man?

Terence was the first man who

thought I was any good for anything.

I was on the roof of
his lock-up re-felting.

I'd never seen a rifle,

but I was pretty handy with a nail gun.

Bang!

So, how many?

You said not just men.

I mean, I can't imagine you
sneaking up behind a woman.

Who was she?

The only woman I ever loved.

[eerie music]

Pauline Maguire?

Terence's mom, she was murdered.

Tell me about Pauline, Frank.

Terence Maguire had no
right to be with her.

She was 15 years younger than him.

The only woman you ever loved

and you fell in love with the boss' wife?

Why did you kill her?

Why did you do it?

Did she go back to him?

You couldn't have her, then nobody could?

It's no wonder Terry
Maguire wants you dead.

Terry Maguire, I know where I saw him.

It was out the front of
my daughter's school.

He gave me this.

Shit.

He put a tracker on it.

He's coming to kill you.

[tense music]

[phone ringing]

Sean, I think the Chief's in danger.

Something is going down.

[Sean] Whoa, what are you
talking about, Muriel?

What the fuck's going on?

[ammunition clicking]

[gun cocking]

[Frank] What is it?

It's a feeling I've had since I arrived.

That I was brought here to fail.

Well, as they used to say in The Brothers,

[speaking in foreign language]

"Who benefits?"

They're merging the force.

They're selling all the properties.

Jesus fucking Christ, they're
going to make a fortune,

Krasnov and his friends.

If they get rid of you.

Maybe I'm not the only one
who's meant to die here.

That's what's coming.

[alarm beeping]

100 metres.

Any minute now,

young Maguire will be
walking up to my front door.

[pistol cocking]

Like you said, he has a good reason,

you killed his mother.

McGill!

McGill!

Come out here!

I mean, come on, Frank, 20 years ago,

you wouldn't be sitting here
waiting for the Maguires

to come and get you.

What happened?

What changed?

Pauline happened.

She wanted me to turn myself
in and face the consequences.

You would have gone to prison for her?

I would have gone anywhere
for her, I wish I had.

Terence found out about us.

Terence killed her?

Terry thinks you killed his mom.

You've got to tell him!

That young man is a fucking psychopath.

He put a grenade down a young lad's jumper

and pulled the pin.

You thought the old man was mad--

[gunshots firing]

Come on, Frank, Frank, come on!

Frank, tell him, you can't win this!

Good luck, copper.

When the shooting starts,
head for the woods.

[Terry] Frank, come out!

Come out here!

[gunshots firing]

He won't come out.

Let him have it, lads.

[rapid gunshots firing]

[bottle smashing]

Frank!

[loud firing]

[sirens wailing]

[metallic ringing]

Frank?

Frank?

Jesus, Frank.

[grunting]

[melancholy music]

Frank?

If only I'd got him and
Pauline out of there,

like I promised.

Terry's your son.

I made him.

And I killed him.

I had to.

Before he killed some other mother's son.

What have I done?

He'd come to kill you.

He would've killed me, too.

Terence Maguire did see something in me.

He saw a killer, and he was right.

We tried, it's okay.

It looks bad.

They saw something in you, too.

What was it?

My father told me the day I left home

I'd get what I was worthy of.

Ah well, they were right about

both of us then, eh?

I was happy on that roof.

Who said we had to be something?

The view

was good enough

from there.

[bittersweet music]

[keys jingling]

[police radio chattering]

[Bill] How much money were
you going to make on the deal?

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

I thought Tredmon Holdings

was a perfectly legitimate
corporate interest.

One that was going to line your pocket.

How much was your kickback worth?

You never really got this
place, did you, Bill, hey?

Its ancient rhythms.

You never should have hired me, Keith.

I'll get Krasnov.

And then I'm coming for his friends.

I had no idea anyone was
going to get hurt, Bill.

But it sounds to me like
you had a lucky escape.

Why don't you quit while you're ahead?

You always gave me the impression

that this place was beneath you.

To the contrary.

I kind of like the view.

You can see for miles.

[contemplative music]

So, how do I look?

Alex is a lucky guy.

[groaning] No, not that.

I'm running for the
school's eco committee.

Oh, oh.

You're a true Hixon.

Does it come with a corner office?

[kids chattering]

I was a shitty husband.

You know that, right?

Yeah, you're a shitty dad, too.

But you're my shitty dad.

[sighing]

It's a miserable place, isn't it, Dad?

A miserable place for miserable people.

[smooching]

[folk music]

[choral whirring]