Original subtitles

CONNACHT UNIVERSITY

In Early Irish society,

one's honour price

determined one's status in the community.

In a petty kingdom,

the king, the poet and the bishop all had equal standing.

If a king murdered one of his own family,

his punishment was to lose his status.

He would be set adrift with just some oats,

and his fate would be left in the hands of God.

Okay, that's a good place to leave it.

Oh, and remember Thursday's tutorial

has moved to room G341.

And the meaning of life as told to me in a dream...

What are you filming?

This had better not be related to my podcast.

Idiots!

Morning. There's been a development.

I've decided to engage with the TV people

to help jog everyone's memory.

-A reconstruction? -Yep.

And they'll interview all and sunder

about their memories of that Good Friday night.

-Conall's interview will be short! -We'll see.

I'd like to arrange a visit to Conall today,

to put the new evidence to him.

From our informant.

-Under caution? -Not yet.

Let's get his side first. I'll be away for the afternoon

but available on my phone if there are any developments.

I can get the statement from Conall.

Oh, that's okay, Barry.

I've a much more important job for you.

Sabine took home the night's takings.

Over 10 grand.

A robbery?

Yes, but no sign of forced entry.

Sabine didn't feel threatened.

Who would know that she brought home the takings?

The bar manager, I'd imagine. And the night porter.

R�ona Speer. Ray Lipsett.

Good.

We'll need statements from R�ona and Ray.

Not just them.

The hotel had umpteen creditors.

Lots of final notices,

letters from solicitors.

None of these people were paid

when it went to the wall soon after.

I don't suppose any of them were in the hotel that night?

Well, that's what I have to figure out.

Keep me posted.

We need a proper storage room.

Enjoy!

Sorry I didn't make the funeral.

I left a message on Rip.ie but...

We're flat-out prepping for exams.

That...

Good Friday.

When you came up to the hotel,

what do you remember?

Remember the flirty banter between Ian and your mum?

I remember.

He told me...

that if he wanted to, he could fuck her

and he reckoned she'd let him.

Sorry.

I'm just telling you what he said.

Right.

We were drinking all day.

Pints, and then...

We knew how you felt about drugs

so we didn't tell you but...

Ian had ketamine.

That barmaid who was working.

She was a bit uptight.

She was finishing her shift, and you asked her

to join us for a drink.

And...

Ian seized the opportunity.

You gave her ketamine?

You drank it.

By mistake.

That's why you were so fucked-up.

And then what?

I asked about getting you a taxi.

But the manager said she'd look after you.

I went up to the room,

the room I was sharing with Ian.

I fell asleep.

And then,

a couple of hours later,

Ian came back.

He was covered...

and I mean covered, in mud.

His clothes,

shoes, hands.

Even his face had mud on it.

I have to admit,

when I heard that your mother was found in the bog,

it crossed my mind.

Are you certain about all this?

One hundred percent.

That's when...

He thought I was asleep, uh...

but I wasn't. I was watching him, and...

I saw him taking a shower.

In the middle of the night?

-And that's when... -What?!

You never knew this about me.

Back then, nobody did...

it was basically a secret but, um...

I'm gay.

And...

Ian caught me staring at him...

after his shower.

He started taunting me.

And then...

It's taken me a long time...

and a lot of therapy

to understand that what happened that night

wasn't consensual.

For years, I blamed myself.

I tried to block it out.

Neither of us went back to university after that.

I wanted to tell you but...

you had bigger problems.

Do you know...

Do you know where Ian is now?

This the same scarf from back then?

Yeah.

Find out as much as you can about Ian Coyle.

He was at Connacht University the same time as me.

Sure.

Okay.

Lads!

You grab one end. I'll grab the other.

It's not the bench.

Look.

Is that what I think it is?

Barry has found our missing phone.

Press the phone icon, and see the recent calls.

The green one.

I know.

-Her texts? -Empty.

Everything's been wiped.

It was taken into evidence...

three days after she was reported missing.

Sabine couldn't have done that.

Why would the data be erased?

Who had access to the phone?

They found a scarf with your mum's body.

A Connacht University scarf, with a soccer badge.

They think it was yours.

They think you did it.

PSNI HEADQUARTERS

-Detective Conlon. -Inspector.

We've found the missing phone.

That's great.

Well... not quite.

The data has all been erased.

Can it be retrieved?

We've sent it to Dublin for analysis.

The thing is...

it was erased after it was taken into evidence.

It was erased by one of our own.

Keogh's hunch might be right.

Thank you.

Bye.

Is that what you're wearing on TV?

They're interviewing us today.

-Recording the show. -Why?

This is a good thing.

It'll jog everyone's memory.

Even yours.

There's nothing wrong with my memory.

Great.

Put on a suit, and have a wash and a shave.

-Barry? -No.

It's Detective Keogh.

We need to get a statement from you.

A witness has come forward who claims you had...

"a massive argument" with your mother in the hotel,

hours before her murder.

Can you tell us about that?

I told you everything already.

I have no memory of that part of the night.

Yeah!

You did.

That's not great, is it?

Was there bad blood between you and your mother... for a while?

Are you going to interview me under caution?

We'll see.

Anything else to add?

No.

No.

Oh, and...

Barry found the missing phone.

Your mum's phone.

Someone tried to reset it.

Someone who worked in Carricknanaul station.

I'm scratching my head wondering who.

Well... that's the lot.

Did you get your call sheet?

You and your ol' fella are up...

after lunch.

The interviews are getting samey.

"Sabine was a lovely German woman..." Blah, blah.

So the juicier the better

with your bits to camera, okay?

Sabine was a proper milf.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

You haven't changed since school.

How do you put up with him?

She knows a good thing when she sees it.

Did you ever get the glare from Sabine?

Not really.

Of course not. You and Tara were her favourites.

I never got a go on reception.

You see, the uniforms fitted us.

Are you calling me fat?!

You okay?

That caravan is going to be the death of me.

Art? I'm Aoife.

-Hi Conall. -Hi, how are you?

I'm good. Just through here please.

How have the last few weeks been for you?

Awful.

What?

Remember, my questions will be edited out

so you have to answer more fully.

It'd be brilliant if you could put the question in your answer.

It would help us.

What are you going on about?

How long more will this take?

We'll try again.

In your own words,

how have the last few weeks been,

knowing that your wife's death is now being treated as a murder?

Tough. Very tough.

You just never imagine that this kind of thing...

could happen in your town.

Sabine was loved by all.

She really was.

Who could have done this to her?

Sixteen downloads?

Fuck!

I'm busy, Darragh.

Don't fucking talk to me like that.

Did you hear they're filming a documentary on the murder?

I'm looking at a solicitor's letter here.

A solicitor's letter? For what?

Because you accused Feilim of murder!

I didn't accuse him of murder, Darragh.

I accused him of possibly having sex with Sa--

Oh, it doesn't matter.

Stop this podcast and the investigating right now, you hear?

And if I say no?

I'll send you your P45.

Fine. Send me my P45.

And I expect my holiday pay too, you bollox!

We got there in the end. Great job.

Phones are meant to be switched off!

Hello?

Why are you ghosting me?

Whatever. Look, your mother's lover--

Lower your voice.

I've been thinking of the possible candidates around here.

I can't imagine her with Ray, can you?

Unless she took a toy boy.

How old is that guy... Martin?

Do me a favour, alright? Go back to wherever you came from.

Go back to writing stories about face-painting at kids' festivals.

I've read your articles.

This is a closed set.

Good.

-Get her out of here. -I'm going!

Don't stop until you reach Sligo!

Wanker!

We're ready for you.

Do I look into the camera, or..?

Stay looking at me, not over there.

Anne Marie, isn't it?

Yeah.

I'm Ciara-Kate N� Bhraon�in. I write for The Sligo Voice.

You're the podcaster?

Thanks for listening!

I didn't.

Right.

Listen, I'd love to do a piece about you for the paper.

That must have been very harrowing,

being arrested by ICE,

thrown in prison, and then deported.

I don't want to talk about it.

Well, if you change your mind.

I won't.

And you're not pissed off with Conall?

You're a bigger person than I am.

Could he not have picked up the phone?

Why rat you out to ICE?

I suppose, there's not a day goes by that I don't think of her.

-That's the lot. -Was that okay?

Thanks again and I'm very sorry for your loss.

Thank you.

Ray, have a seat.

You want me to ask him this?

Hey Conall, so your pal Ian...

Quite a few arrests. Drunk and disorderly.

The most recent was last New Year's Eve.

He gave his address as Lifford.

He works in a gym there too.

I'll text you the Eircodes.

Hello?

You can't be back here!

Relax!

Your bosses are over at the shoot.

Yeah, but...

Okay then!

Good man, Barry.

How could you put me through that?

I went to prison!

Prison, Conall.

And you put me there!

You bastard!

-Anne Marie? -Shut the fuck up!

You were Art's driver?

I was.

But I'm confused.

That Good Friday night, you were the night porter?

Well, the night porter job was a new thing.

Like with any business...

staff get moved around

and I was asked to be night porter,

and I said yes.

Going from Art � S�illeabh�in's trusted driver to night porter,

some might call that a demotion.

God no.

To be honest, I preferred it.

There was more craic up at the hotel.

Where were you when you found out that Sabine was missing?

I was outside the church, after Easter Sunday mass.

We called the Garda� but the local station was closed.

We were told they'd send a car from Milford but it never came.

Tuesday... it was Tuesday

before Sergeant Patsy Sweeney returned to open the station.

That was three days, and, well...

by that stage, many people believed

that Sabine had taken her own life.

But you didn't believe the suicide story?

Well, the Sabine I knew wasn't the type to walk into the sea.

An independent inquiry is needed into why this failure happened.

Had Sergeant Patsy Sweeney done her job properly,

Sabine's killer would have been found.

I have no doubt in my mind about that.

How did I end up cuffed when you were the criminal?

Ciara-Kate?

Ciara-Kate?

This isn't funny. Ciara-Kate!

Thank you, God!

Hey Conall, so your pal Ian...

Quite a few arrests. Drunk and disorderly.

The most recent was last New Year's Eve.

He gave his address as Lifford.

He works in a gym there too.

I'll text you the Eircodes.

She didn't seem like the tattoo type, did she?

You can't be looking at this.

On the other hand, he does look like he could kill.

Stop. That's a bad photo.

And a bad attitude and a bad vibe.

He's just... serious.

He clearly joined the Garda� to solve his mother's case himself.

Or cover it up.

Admit it - if you didn't know him

and came across him in a dark alley, you'd shit yourself.

I tend to avoid dark alleys.

What motive could he possibly have?

People don't just kill their mothers for the hell of it.

Parricides are more common than you think.

Delete those photos you took.

Delete them!

All of them.

Thank you.

Sabine?

Sabine?

Sabine!

Were you asked to be in the movie?

Well, it's not a movie but--

I'm up in five minutes.

I did some amateur drama years ago but this is a big step-up!

You'll be fine!

Where is she?

-Who? -Sabine!

I just saw her.

Sabine?

She was here a second ago!

Call Conall.

I'm needed on set.

You'll both have to leave. Please.

Quickly.

LIFFORD

Look, your dad's not well. He was wandering around the village.

I took him home. You need to get back here.

I'm in the middle of something.

Get the fuck back here!

He's your responsibility, not mine!

Oh Jesus!

Art!

Talk to me, Art!

Sabine?

Are you ready?

God, she's the image of Sabine.

Yeah, we had a good casting director.

Those tissues are props.

Talk to me, Art!

I found him like this when I was on the phone to Conall.

I couldn't find a pulse!

Let me.

He's alive. Call an ambulance!

You scared us there, big man! You're going to be okay.

Yeah, hello. I need an ambulance to Carricknanaul.

-How long will it take? -How long will that take?

Five hours?!

Shame on them!

Hang up! Come here and give me a hand.

Let's get him into the van. I'll bring him myself.

Right...

We're going to lift you up, Art. Right?

Lifting you up now.

Good man.

Up we get.

Ray?

I'm bringing your aul boy to the regional hospital.

-Right. -You need to get there.

I can't right now.

Give over! Right now, Balor.

I'm not sure he's going to be alive for much longer.

UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL

Fuck.

They're with him now.

What's going on?

I don't know. They said something about his blood pressure.

I know I should have told you this but...

I saw him at mass last week, and...

he didn't recognise me.

He bluffed his way through it but I could tell.

I went through it with my own mother.

Dementia.

Dreadful disease.

He's down there.

And then...

cut back to him.

Ian came back completely covered in mud.

Are you certain about all this?

One hundred percent.

What the fuck do you want?

Did you kill my mother?

Did you go back to the house that night? Did you see my mother?

Fuck off!

R�n�n told me everything.

Why did you take a shower? Why were your clothes all muddy?

If you don't start talking, I'll promise you two things.

One: I'll kill you. And two: it will hurt.

What are you doing?

Okay, okay, I'll talk!

I followed the barmaid home.

She took a shortcut through the bog.

So I followed her.

I fell in a bog hole. That's why I had a shower.

I didn't go near your mother.

R�n�n sends his regards.

I know.

It's so weird.

I felt the same.

She looks so like her.

Listen, this TV show...

you can expect developments as a result.

Be patient, Conall.

We're close.

It won't be long before we arrest the person who killed your mother.

An arrest?

We're close.

That's all I'll say.

Keogh thinks I did it.

Trust the process.

Trust me.

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