Obituary

Wait, is my car mixed up in Ruby's murder?

Oisín's attacker didn't kill Ruby. They leave bodies behind, not people.

Watch your tone, bud. Vivienne, we've printed more retractions than papers.

If you-- I'm just giving you a taste of what it will look like when I'm editor.

Now, hold on a minute. Are you denying it?!

'Let's make it interesting. Get that buffoon in...'

I'll make you editor. Okay. I'm in. Deal.

Still no sign of Oisín Markum.

Before Mallory skedaddled,

she stole a bunch of money from this drug dealer, Albert.

He's gonna chop off all my fingers. You know what he's gonna do

when he's finished them? Cut off your penis. What?!

Done... for!

'Kilraven's mystery man.' Yeah, I heard he had a couple of tattoos,

a chicken and a dog. To my eyes, it's far more likely a pig.

I'm getting out of jail, sooner than you think.

I'm going to make the real killer crack.

See, I've worked out their MO

and I know they can't help themselves.

'They say you need a left wing and a right wing to fly.'

'I don't believe that. Or in 'they'.'

'Or in the left. Or the right. Or in any side.'

'No. To fly, you only need one thing...'

'Hope.'

'I'm Patsy Ruane,

your neighbour, friend

and fierce campaigner.'

'And in case you haven't guessed,

I hope to represent this piece of heaven

we call home.'

'Now, some people say Kilraven's a strange town.'

'Me? I say, it's a great town for strangers.' How's Patsy?!

Our man, Patsy! 'A great town that needs a great politician.'

'Two weeks remain in this election.

So, let's be bold and brave

and not miss this shot.'

'Now, my opponents are hitting me hard.

Claiming my stance on law and order is weak.'

'But ask yourself,

are they pointing the finger in the right direction?'

'And would they have the guts to say something like this?'

'I'm Patsy Ruane, your neighbour, friend and fierce campaigner.'

Cut! When am I gonna get to use my own words?

The stuff I've always wanted to say, not your flowery muck.

I let you write the last billboard, didn't I?

Which ended up on my T-shirt, cos we're broke!

What now?

The Chronicle have just published your complete criminal record.

Right, this puts us back to square one on law and order.

Emerson, the only crime I'm guilty of committing,

is loving Kilraven too much. No, no!

The only crimes you're guilty of are supplying alcohol to minors,

shoplifting, driving under the influence. The minors were the ones driving.

Driving without a licence, burning without a permit, welfare fraud,

illegal fireworks and the timeless classic,. public exposure.

Which, if we're getting all "legal", was changed to public urination.

Of course. You'll make this go away. I'm not a magician!

Sue whoever write it then. Getting info like that is illegal.

It's not as simple as you think.

Why? Who did write it?

You better have a good reason for dragging me here

in broad daylight this early in the morning.

What's all this? The reason why I dragged you here.

You left the house? Do I look that stupid?

Looks and stupidity aren't mutually exclusive.

I got this in the post from my buddy, Denis. He said,

you two know each other, actually, but I don't know, he wouldn't say how.

Albert's dealing all over town.

Class A. Denis followed him,

took pictures, knows his drops, who he's meeting.

And boy, is he meeting some beauts.

And you want me to do what with all this?

Write the story. Once it's published

Albert's gonna have to leave town.

He's in with the cops, Elvira! There is no other way!

And then there's...

.. this one.

She's working as a mule for Albert.

Skin and bone. Barely 20.

To do a bag drop twice a week.

Only, this week didn't go so good.

She must have come up short.

Argh! Bang!

Headbutt, broke her nose.

That's clever.

Telling me about that young woman.

Trying to tug at my heart strings. Is it working?

No.

'Cause my heart has no heart strings.

I've got too much going on to dig into this.

But you promised you'd help.

Come up with something less stupid and we'll talk.

It still makes no sense. I'm not in the sense-making business.

Rose gave Elvira Patsy's records and you let her print them.

So anyone would think you we're trying to sabotage the election.

Do you mean me or Elvira?

And what makes you so certain Rose was Elvira's source?

Oh, because she just can't let anything go.

As soon as she saw those billboards, she had to hit back.

Well, if you ask me, it sounds like both women are doing their jobs.

Look, we go way back.

We met a few weeks ago. So, take my advice.

The gap between confidence and ignorance is nothing.

Quit bitching and fight.

Now, say goodbye, Emerson.

Goodbye, Emerson.

Thanks. (muffled) Look, I know you're mad at me.

Thanks. (muffled) Look, I know you're mad at me. Mad? Me? Never.

Mad? Me? Never.

'So, let's see what's really going on here.'

'A hit piece like that could cost me the whole election.'

Honestly, I thought you'd get a kick out of it.'

'Do I look like I'm laughing?' 'Well, here's an idea.

When the election is over, when Ruby's killer is found,

why don't we leave town?' Is she testing him?

'Aren't you sick of working for obnoxious human migraine?'

Nice touch!

'Done the big city thing.' 'And?'

'I'd rather be somebody here, than a nobody out there.'

Boy, he wants this job bad!

All okay in the land of milk and honey?

Fine. How was your golf?

There was so much sand, I was like Lawrence of Arabia.

Anyhoodle, Hughie?

Yeah, it's been nearly a week. In case I need to prep

for an interview, any idea when you'll know if he's getting out?

Mother's still mulling. She hates Hughie.

Not because he's a murderer but because he stole from her.

So, there's a chance he stays put? Knowing her, every chance.

Of course, she's doing this to spite me.

Any time I ask for something,

she throws a spanner in the works. Well, she is quite ill.

Not ill enough. Sometimes I want to scream,

when will you FUCKING DIE?!

Shit, your whole daddy thing. That's okay.

Good, because I hate saying sorry

and it looked like you were gonna make me.

Well, if that's all, I have a Ruby Conroy press briefing.

Anything new? Just routine.

I'm not sure... Hey, Agnes Dunford?

Former obituarist. Deceased.

Yeah, I'm afraid Agnes has filed her last story

and gone on to the great printing press in the sky.

Okay, thank you.

Hey, before you go. I know a cool way

you can apologise for the Patsy thing without actually apologising.

A bit late for a retraction.

Your James Doe story. I've got a lead.

Anything useful? Nah, just a couple of tattoos.

And you want my blessing?

All you had to do was ask.

Are you sure? Just don't ask twice!

'Press conference will begin shortly, folks.'

Once Detective Mulcahy has concluded her statement,

we will open the floor to questions.

This doesn't feel routine.

Talk is, they've footage of the killer from the night

Ruby was murdered. Somewhere near her house.

This is an ambush. They'll all see me.

Walk, don't run.

Where are you off to?

I wouldn't want you to miss this.

Oh and, er, stick around after. We need to talk, yeah?

As you know, we have been working tirelessly

on the Ruby Conroy case.

Today, I have an important update.

Calm down. Act normal.

Reviewing the facts.

We know the killer stole a vehicle on the evening Ruby was killed.

We also know the killer surveyed Ruby's house... (camera clicks)

well before she was murdered.

They likely practiced driving there and back.

Scoping out the most secluded routes,

leaving no CCTV footage of the car theft,

or its discovery near the crime scene.

At least I got that right. However,

because the stolen vehicle broke down,

we believe the killer was forced to flee on foot.

Meaning everything that happened after that

was not preplanned.

Meaning mistakes. She's the one making mistakes.

Our killer planned this to a T, including fleeing on foot.

Now, before I continue,

does anyone here know what calving cameras are?

'Cause you really need to get out more, lads. (clears throat)

They're surveillance cameras, used to monitor pregnant cows.

This is the feed from the night Ruby Conroy was killed.

Wait a minute, this isn't about me.

Post murder, the killer cut through a field.

Due to car trouble they decided they needed

a different form of transport.

And since it hasn't been recovered yet,

we believe it may still be in their possession.

It's a light grey, emerald back mountain bike

and it has yellow front forks.

One more thing, contrary to certain publications,

this doesn't fit the profile of a serial killer.

Experts have reviewed it and it's likely a one-time occurrence.

So, if we don't catch them soon,

there's every chance we never catch them.