Blind Sherlock

INSPIRED BY TRUE EVENTS

-What's this? -Anyone upstairs?

No, only Gokhan.

Stay here.

-Kitchen is clear. -Fuck.

No, no, no!

Umut! Umut, no! No!

Umut, no. Umut.

-Come. -No, let me go! Umut!

You don't want to see him like this. Let's go outside.

Nico, cop.

Could someone have poisoned him?

Hey.

Last night a man was shot dead in his Rotterdam home.

The victim is 47-year-old Umut T.,

who had been working as an interpreter for the police for many years.

The police are not releasing any further information.

Umut T. is survived by his wife and young son.

And now the weather forecast. Today and tonight it's dry but cloudy

with a chance of some sunny spells.

Hey.

We're assuming Umut was murdered on McCartney's orders.

But we can't prove it.

We're canvassing the neighborhood, but there are no leads so far.

No suspicious vehicles. And nothing to see on the security footage either.

We did find DNA in Umut's house.

It's been sent to the lab. We're waiting for the results.

Oh, we're waiting. Is that all we're doing? Waiting?

No, we're expanding the wiretap investigation.

We're tapping Frank Peeters and monitoring Yaqub.

And he'll lead us to Lennon and McCartney. Don't summarize what I already know.

-I'm trying to… -Should I give you a summary?

You're getting nowhere.

Madam Mayor, I assure you my people are doing…

Mister De Geeter.

Paul. Call me when you actually have something.

Yes, Mrs. Limon.

Well… Back to work, please. Go on.

Thanks.

Where were you? I called.

Can we talk? Privately?

Goddamn it.

You're sure you didn't tell him anything? It's okay, but I need to know.

No, of course not.

Don't talk to anyone about this, not even Meryem.

First we need to find out if he has anyone else in his pocket.

Why didn't you say something sooner?

He said that if I told anyone about it,

he'd hurt Caro. Or the baby.

It'll be alright.

You don't know who it is?

No.

But I know exactly where and when I last saw him.

Later, much later. Fast-forward, come on.

Ah, found him.

We know that guy.

And that's why you're here, and that's why we're here.

So, Andy, you thought, I'm going to work for the police.

Apply for the job. Then I'll be close to the source.

-But that didn't work out. -Yeah, I guess I wasn't dumb enough.

Funny.

And? Is it a thriving business?

Being an information broker for the gangsters?

Who are you selling to?

Why am I really here?

Because of that dead dog of course.

Because of that stupid mutt. Yes, because of that fucking animal.

Fucking asshole!

Can you finally to tell me what's going on?

Who's that guy that was brought in here?

-Why haven't you said anything all day? -I'm not allowed to, okay?

I'll ask one last time. Who are you selling information to?

McCartney?

You really are a bunch of fucking losers. A bunch of fucking losers.

-Who are you selling to? -I don't know anything.

Listen, you sad junkie. I'll leave you to rot in here for 24 hours.

Do you want to go through withdrawal? Come on then, talk.

I sell to Frank Peeters. To Frank Peeters.

Frank Peeters is a member of The Beatles. He works with Lennon.

-Ringo Starr. -Let go of me.

What the fuck?

-What do you know about Frank Peeters? -Nothing. I don't ask questions, I sell.

I only sell.

What the fuck?

We got anything yet?

Anything on Peeters?

No, it's just his wife's nail salon chatter.

Manicure, pedicure, waxing, which nail color…

Anthony. Shut up, keep digging.

Frank is a Beatle, so keep looking. Has Yaqub said anything about McCartney?

No, nothing yet.

Christ, guys, come on!

If you have to, listen to it all again, see if you missed anything.

RECORDINGS YAQUB NOT RELEVANT

No worries.

She said the sauce would be spicy, but it was just sriracha or something.

I knew he would score. Didn't I tell you?

He's an awesome striker.

Yes, I know, but I have to be at the golf club at three.

I get what you're saying.

But the contract is clear.

It's the seller's responsibility to ask for the reports.

Yes.

Yes, we've supplied all the documents. Everything is clearly explained in those.

Yes. Yes, of course.

-Do you hear that too? -What do you mean?

Try to imagine Yaqub's not there.

If you don't focus on him, there's something in the background.

-Okay. -Ready?

Yes.

Yes, we've supplied all the documents. Everything is clearly explained in those.

Yes. Yes, of course.

Stop.

I think I recognized a name. I'll rewind, and we'll listen again.

-Alright? -Okay.

-Try to translate it all. -Yes.

I hardly recognize you anymore. Why are you so worried?

Things are getting out of hand.

McCartney wants to kill that Umut guy to shut him up.

That interpreter?

And he's not the only one.

His patience has run out. He wants to kill Lennon too.

McCartney wants to make a statement.

So that no one else tries to fuck with him.

And who's doing that?

Those bikers. The usual suspects.

Sunday evening.

-In a public place. -Naima?

Call the notary. Beukelaers. And put him through immediately.

What day is today?

Today's Tuesday.

So we have five days to prevent McCartney from killing Lennon. So…

So, just to get it straight:

We don't know the guy behind the hit, nor the target,

and we don't know who those biker hitmen are.

We don't know the place, and if we don't find them,

they'll empty a Kalashnikov on a crowded square.

Something like the recent attack on that girl, Amaya?

We're on a roll, guys.

Yeah, Tess…

Wait a second.

So…

Yaqub. If he's McCartney's right-hand man, they have to talk at some point, right?

Why haven't they been in touch yet? What are we missing?

How do we find Lennon?

Is there really nothing on Lennon in Frank Peeter's wiretaps?

No, nothing. He's very careful.

-He weighs his words, and on the phone… -Noise!

Maybe we should try making some noise.

I'm sorry, but what is noise?

We're going to make Frank nervous.

Leak information so he'll start making calls and lead us to Lennon.

We once made a death list and left it lying around a bar.

Our wiretaps exploded. We were able to arrest around 20 important dealers.

But…

what are we leaking to Frank, and how?

I have an idea.

-Goddamn it! -If you weren't a cop, I'd try my luck.

Shut up. The only thing you need to know is our backstory.

Yes, you're a whore. You're my girlfriend, and Roman is your client.

We pressured him to make him talk, and if he doesn't, we tell his girlfriend.

When you aren't snorting, you're not a complete moron.

I wish I'd had more input in the backstory.

-Now they'll think I pay for… -Dude.

AIVY NAILS VENTILATED ROOM

-So you also do hair removal? -Yes.

That's a nice idea, right? It's nice for your clients as well.

A pretty Brazilian wax. Do you know what that is?

But please leave some hair, she's not a kid. And I'm not a pedophile.

-Yeah, maybe next time. -Ten thousand euros.

For what the blind guy can tell me.

Okay, tell him. Come on.

Come on, talk, or we'll tell your girlfriend everything.

Talk. Good man.

For a few weeks now I've been working at the wiretapping…

I don't care about your life story. Just tell me what I need to know.

I heard that you work with someone called John Lennon.

They don't know who that is.

But he allegedly stole a container of drugs.

And he's about to leave for Dubai with all the money.

Without you. That's all I know.

That seems sufficient for 10,000 euros. Thank you.

See you soon maybe. I might get waxed. Let's go.

Fuck!

That went pretty well, didn't it?

I don't want to brag, but I think I have a knack for this undercover stuff.

Maybe I could come work with you guys, for the police.

I don't have a degree or anything, but neither does he.

And he works there anyway, so why can't I?

Roman!

-What the fuck? -That was for Sam, bastard!

I'm bleeding. What the fuck, dude?

Fuck.

Blind motherfucker.

Hey. Pretty impressive you knew where to hit.

I should be saying that this is out of line, okay?

Sweetie. Sweetie. Sweetie.

-Hey, what's up? -Hey, where are you?

Well… At work.

Rom, I'm waiting for you.