Original subtitles

Will I sit here?

Just there, thanks.

We'll check your mic now.

Keep your eyes on me.

Sabine was very talented.

She was working on that the week she died.

She'd promised it to a friend.

She never even got to sign it.

I never knew who to give it to.

MURDER ON THE BOG

Less of the husband. He's not the focus.

I never thought I'd wish it was you who died in the accident,

until now.

I wish it had been me and not Danny that night.

Fuck you!

You're an Ó Súilleabháin!

You do whatever you want and you get away with it!

I had no choice.

-I couldn't get hold of you. -I didn't want you to!

I thought you could help me... with everything.

Bullshit.

If I had known anything that time, I'd have told you.

You only wanted me to come back here so that I'd be as miserable as you.

I'm going to wring Barry's neck.

Any particular reason?

I got a hit on Ian Coyle's passport.

He's cleared off to Thailand on a one-way ticket.

And..?

And he was in Lifford until last week

before Barry accessed his file on Pulse.

Leave it to the Inspector, Cathal.

You know well that he passed that address on to Conall,

and now Conall has scared Ian off.

Sounds like Coyle doesn't keep good company.

The assault could have been a coincidence.

Same type of coincidence

that has Conall behind the attack on Martin Ó Tuairisg as well?

Conall's trying to shape his alibi.

It's a theory.

-But the Inspector-- -Has her own agenda.

A robber who doesn't take the money? Come on.

You know that Conall wiped Sabine's phone first chance he got.

We can't prove it.

My money is on the psychopath son.

You wanted to speak to me, Inspector?

What's this?

I want you to write down every bit of information

you gave Sergeant Ó Súilleabháin since his mother's body was found.

If you have compromised my investigation, you'll regret it.

They're going to show the reconstruction in the pub,

I want you two there.

You never know what the informants will suddenly remember.

And afterwards, I want surveillance at Art's house

- that's where Conall's staying -

and at Ray's house.

You won't catch any fish here!

Ah, stop!

I'm waiting for the weather to settle.

You'd want to see Alaska when the salmon are running.

It's just incredible.

Even I could catch one.

Listen...

Conall wasn't thinking straight, ratting you out to ICE.

-Let him off. -You've all the gossip!

Ah well...

I keep my ear close to the ground.

You're worse than Gráinne in the shop!

Are you settling back in?

No.

I'm cramping Iarla's style.

I'll be heading on soon when I get my new passport.

Do you think the cops will catch Sabine's killer?

Honestly, I don't think so.

The latest rumour is that she had a fancy man.

-And he did it? -That's the rumour.

I can't... Don't ask me about the investigation again...

Yeah? Gimme...

Okay.

-What are you doing here? -The Inspector knows.

-Knows what? -That I gave you Ian Coyle's address.

And?

And you beat the living shit out of him. He's gone to ground.

Have there been any developments?

You're not listening, Conall.

I can't talk to you anymore!

If Ian presses charges against you, I'll be implicated and sent to jail!

Barry, he won't press charges.

Don't ask me about the investigation again.

A dog wouldn't eat this muck.

-Where are my keys? -You can't drive.

You might be a Garda...

but you're not my jailer.

Look, we have to talk about you.

Your situation.

What's this?

A nursing home.

No way.

You need help.

Your mother would be proud.

You went wandering again last night.

I can't watch over you 24/7.

You're sick.

Put a bullet in my head...

and be done with it.

You've all the answers.

Except the important one.

Are you any closer to finding out who killed your mother?

I'm working on it.

And at 12.15, we'll have the best of country music on Glór Tíre

which will feature, among others, Mike Denver and Trudi Lalor.

I tracked down two executive chefs, three more galleries,

a hair salon and a gym.

Everywhere Sabine visited the last week she was alive.

No sign of a lover. I've hit a wall.

If that's what I think it is, I'll have to take it into evidence.

Thank you.

-You ordered without me? -I'm back on duty soon.

That's chicken!

I know.

But right now, a special programme live from the newsroom:

Murder on the Bog.

This isn't a game.

I've got a book going.

Do you want to stick a tenner on anyone?

Pint for me.

Listen, I've a delivery for you later on.

-Just a Rock Shandy. -A fiver on Art!

Lock the doors in case the murderer is in here!

Actually, leave them open if Barry is the one protecting us.

-Aren't they a little-- -Shh!

I hear you're celebrating.

Word is you're taking up a job in the six counties.

We should have a whip-round

to get you a going-away present.

A new coat maybe.

A turncoat.

Watch your mouth.

Sabine Uí Shúilleabháin was a talented artist and hotelier

who suffered a bloody death

within the walls of this fine house in Carricknanaul, West Donegal,

on Good Friday 2009.

Her body was finally found three weeks ago on the bog,

500 yards from her house.

Tonight, we are hoping that you can help us find

the person who murdered Sabine.

The Garda phone and text lines are open.

If you have any information, anything at all,

please pick up the phone.

I'd forgotten how beautiful she was.

Yep.

..while she was a student of Celtic Studies, learning Irish.

Go on the Ray!

Shut up!

I was the first one from Carricknanaul to lay eyes on her.

She was standing on the step.

I'd never seen anyone like her.

Short hair and...

a miniskirt.

She was like something off Top of the Pops.

And where was that?

Oh, outside the house.

My mother was keeping students at the time and...

Sabine was looking for a place to stay.

That was the summer of '85.

I was in events before I built the hotel.

I'd organised a dance.

One of the local young lads brought her to the dance

but I knew...

that she'd be leaving with me.

It was love at first sight, was it?

Ah, my heart breaks for you, Ray.

How did you end up working for the fella who stole your girl?

Shush now!

You don't reckon Ray was Sabine's fancy man, do you?

Their son Conall was born 18 months later,

and it wasn't long before the hotel and Sabine

were truly at the heart of the community.

Sabine did all the buying, firing and hiring up at the hotel.

There you are now, love!

As a business woman, I can tell you that's a hard thing to do!

I don't really look that old, do I?

Careful how you answer that, Gerry.

You could have at least changed out of a tracksuit for the telly.

Sure, that was the cleanest one in the basket.

Had it come out of the wash or was it going in the wash?

Going from Art Ó Súilleabháin's trusted driver

to the night porter.

Some might call that a demotion.

MURDER ON THE BOG

Thought you might need some moral support.

But you're still a dickhead.

Yeah.

Be warned...

it could be the same bottle we topped up with milky coffee years ago!

Still more than I deserve.

-Well... -Drink?

And maybe a towel?

Ignore him. He's lost his manners lately.

I'm well used to you from the hotel. Aren't I, Art?

I remember how cranky you used to be every Thursday, on payday.

We used to call you Scrooge McDuck.

I brought you a towel too.

Sláinte!

Inspector Patsy Sweeney was the local sergeant here in Carricknanaul

at the time of Sabine's disappearance.

I knew Sabine well.

She literally vanished without a trace.

Her phone, wallet and keys were on the table,

and there was some meat in the slow cooker.

It was just like she was in another room.

Suicide would be quite a common occurrence in these parts -

was that the thinking?

No.

But there was no sign of any forced entry or disturbance at the house.

Are you saying you suspected foul play early on?

I most certainly did.

There was someone in the community

with an unhealthy interest in the victim.

You weren't so full of theories back then.

Someone with a long-suspected link to crimes over the border.

Someone connected to the hotel.

It was a different time.

This place was thriving.

All other pubs for miles around were closed on Good Friday 2009

but the Curlew Hotel was known to turn a blind eye to the rules

for the locals.

Sabine would have taken a large amount of cash home that night.

So you were thinking Sabine lost her life as a result of a robbery?

A robbery gone wrong.

The border counties were suffering through a spate of crimes

linked to terrorist groups across the border at the time.

And this remains one of our active lines of enquiry.

We can't ignore the possibility that this could be the motive

for the botched robbery that saw Sabine murdered.

This is a close-knit community.

We know that people of Carricknanaul know more than they have told us.

We've looked at the facts,

and our conclusion is one that is going to be difficult

for the people of Carricknanaul to accept:

this was this an inside job.

What's this shit? "Inside"?

-Ray? -A terrorist?

Bluster and rebel songs is all he is.

For sure.

Another drink, Ray?

Not for me.

-Help me with the drinks, love. -Right.

If you did it, tell me now,

because the odds on you are going down by the minute.

Be quiet.

I'm only havin' the craic.

Follow me.

That delivery you have to make, it's to be moved.

-Over the border? -No. Listen...

That treacherous bitch is jumping ship to the PSNI.

You're going to deliver a goodbye present.

The following is a reconstruction.

Breathe.

Some viewers may find this content distressing.

Sabine went into the shop on the morning of Good Friday

to buy Easter eggs for her students in the Saturday art class.

Is that meant to be me?

She was later seen dropping off a painting at the local library

for an upcoming charity auction.

Then she made her way home to make lunch

for her son and his friends who were visiting from college.

She spent the rest of the day painting

and spoke with her husband who was abroad,

at around 6 p.m. from her studio.

That evening, she started preparing for Easter Sunday celebrations.

We know that she drove to the hotel

to collect the night's takings from the bar at around 11.30 p.m.

She had an argument with her son

before she left the hotel with the cash just before midnight.

CCTV FOOTAGE

This was when Sabine Uí Shúilleabháin was last seen alive.

She had the takings in her possession.

That's Ray at the door.

The most worrying aspect of this crime

is that the murderer was clearly someone who Sabine trusted

and was a close friend of hers.

All of the hotel workers knew that she kept the takings in her house

until she went to the bank, usually on Monday mornings.

The would-be robber gained entry to the house

but was startled.

They're trying to say Ray did it.

Sabine defends herself.

She wasn't going to let them take the money without a fight.

We know that an attempt was made

to stem the flow of blood, which leads the Gardaí to believe

that this murder happened by accident.

The body was very carefully handled.

She was wrapped in a tablecloth.

And that's how a woman,

for whom there was great affection in Carricknanaul, was killed.

We will leave you with the words of a community that is broken.

Please phone the numbers onscreen

if you can help the investigation.

The Gardaí are waiting for your call.

I wasn't expecting that.

I have no idea what to think.

I'm off.

I never even considered Ray.

And I've thought of everyone over the years but never Ray.

A finger pointed,

and another person in the frame

for Sabine's murder.

Balor? Surely you don't believe this shite?

She has it in for me, and she set me up.

You were working at the hotel that night.

Tell him I was there. All night!

He was still there when I left.

You left around midnight.

You can't know where he was after that.

Fake news is all it is.

Fuckin' fake news!

You sure about that?

Why did Sabine demote you?

Cop yourselves on.

This is Ray we're talking about.

Ray... I'll see you out.

We won't settle this tonight.

-I didn't do it! -I know, Ray. I know.

Well, I want them to know that!

If it wasn't Ray...

then who?

Wherever Conall goes, you go. Understood?

Yeah.

No sleeping.

Listen, Martin. We haven't got much time.

They're still on me.

Listen, you come the back way and I'll meet you out there.

Who's she?

She's the podcaster.

-Ciara-Kate Ní Bhraonáin, writ-- -Yeah, yeah. Right.

-Is he okay? -Yeah, he's upstairs...

convincing himself that Ray did it.

I gave him a sleeping tablet.

And you?

I just need to talk to Ray alone.

That's not the answer right now. Think it through.

Let the Gardaí do their job. Sleep on it.

I can't!

I'm sorry. Just...

I just can't think straight.

What is it?

Balor...

It's me.

You can tell me anything.

I know.

Are you alright?

The lad who followed you home that night...

Ian...

he spiked your drink.

But I drank it.

It was ketamine.

I blacked out.

It can make you do bad things.

You can't think like this.

I've done bad things, Anne Marie.

I know.

I know.

You got me deported, you bollox.

If Ray didn't do it...

then it was me.

Conall...

you couldn't have.

You didn't hurt your mum.

But how do you know?

Because I know you.

I've always known you.

There you go.

Are you not afraid of me?

I think you're more likely to give me E. coli than to stab me.

Besides, the perceived danger will boost the downloads.

Tell me your story, in your own words.

I will, but first...

I'll just grab a few biscuits.

I'm sitting in Ray Lipsett's living room.

The tattered wallpaper,

the worn carpet and...

what's this I'm staring at?

A painting by Sabine Uí Shúilleabháin.

There is no doubt that Sabine and Ray were connected.

A decent, friendly man.

A pillar of the community in Carricknanaul.

But... did he murder her?

Have you changed the plates?

No improvising, do you hear?

Stick to the backroads.

Ray, forget about the bisc--

Leave no trace. Phones off. Both of you.

Sorry.

Give her a good scare, okay?

She'll get what she deserves.

She will indeed get what she deserves.

Ray?

Just not tonight.

Is that clear?

Ray?

No biscuits.

But I got you some crisps?

They're open.

Yeah, but...

they're delicious!

Is that a pressure plate? He said just to scare her.

It'll mess her up but it won't kill her.

I dunno.

Press record.

Run!

Let me be clear.

I'm an innocent man.

My arm!

Get down!

Come on.

Do you believe me?

Prick.

Inspector?

Christ! Are you hurt?

No. We've been on him since the pub.

He's been with that podcaster since.

Sure.

Okay, bye.

Get up!

Breaking news...

tragic news coming out of Donegal this morning.

There are reports of a car bomb

outside Ardanragha village last night.

Nobody was injured in the incident.

Gardaí say that the scene has been sealed off

pending a forensic examination.

Gardaí are appealing for the public's assistance,

especially from anyone who may have camera footage from last night.

Terrible business altogether.

-Good morning. -Morning.

-James? -What?

Lies. It's all lies.

Oh yeah? You reckon?

Ray?

Ray?

Ray?

Ray?

Ray!

I need a word.

Go ahead.

Look...

this isn't easy but... the board had a meeting last night.

In the light of, well, the investigation,

we believe it would be

in the best interests of the club--

Are you giving me the sack?

Not the sack, no.

We'd like you... to step aside.

Over a ridiculous TV show?

If they thought it was me, they'd have hauled me in by now.

It's just until things settle down.

I didn't lay a finger

on Sabine Uí Shúilleabháin.

We're a family club.

Some fuckin' family!

Mam?

Fuck.