Down Cemetery Road

"Hello, I'm a little lamb. Touch my soft woolen fur."

- Do you want to touch it? - I'm not a baby.

I already know that.

Fucking cold, man.

It's like a joke, isn't it? Having to go after a baby.

We are baby monitor cameras with legs.

Yes or no?

If I wanted to be a bodyguard for kids,

- I would look for a job in that. - Of?

Child protection. There's a lot of money there, man.

Because there are the babies royalty, okay?

And the "celebribebes".

"Celebrababies"? That?

- What do I...? - Go take a shit.

Children of famous people, okay?

Yes.

Are you going?

No, it's your turn. You go, asshole.

Come on. Walk a little.

Fuck off.

And hurry up, I'll freeze.

Mammon.

Stupid.

A little buzz.

- Thank you. - You are welcome.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

Let's see...

Oh, God.

Dinah, will you get up, please?

Okay, that's it.

Oh, God.

Let's go for a walk, okay?

Yeah?

This way, come on, let's go.

Run, run. Come on.

Don't stop, keep going. Very good. Keep it up. Left, left.

I'm sorry, Dinah.

No, with me. With me, come with me.

Peaceful. Okay.

Don't come close. Don't come close.

Uncle Mike!

Are you OK?

I missed you.

CONFIDENTIAL

BASED ON THE BOOK BY MICK HERRON

THE MYSTERY OF CEMETERY ROAD

Yes?

Hello. Who is it?

Inspector Varma. And you?

Inspector Varma, I am calling on behalf of Zoë Boehm.

Great.

The tone is not necessary.

It has disappeared.

As?

I don't want them to trace the call. I'm in a cabin.

What it cost me to find one that it wasn't a defibrillator.

I have an envelope with very important information.

He left a message to call him if he didn't come back.

Okay, yes.

- Very good. - Let me out!

Let's see. The island we are looking for It falls as northwest.

To the northwest of the archipelago.

- OK? - Okay.

I can't...

- Yes. - Wait.

- Northwest heading. - You bitches!

I can't...

There is no trace of any...

no archipelago.

With this you can't see anything, just a lot of salt.

Let me out.

Bitches!

We don't need it.

Cover your ears.

You were here, right?

Give me a second.

Hello.

Can I keep it?

Yeah.

Gracias.

Tracker distance: the 1.9 kilometers.

Any clue?

Beyond the huge arrow What brand that there are dragons?

The mother who...

Are you okay?

Yes. I had forgotten how much I fucking hate going on a boat.

Sorry, boat. I didn't want to offend you.

Shit.

That...?

IN THE IDEA

Be quiet.

Now what happens?

The engine has stalled.

I see it, Captain Haddock.

But has it gone bad? or is he stubborn?

Fuck.

- There is no fuel. - I'm 99% sure...

that I'm going to vomit.

Set your sights on the horizon.

Don't fuck with me.

- Needs fuel. - Don't tell me. Where do you have it?

I won't tell you.

Don't be a mamon.

Fucking newbies.

Zoë, look for a fuel canister.

Or...

We can let it out.

Because I think I've poisoned a lung.

I would have to go look for it.

Okay, okay, okay.

We let you out on one condition. No mansplaining,

to be condescending nor to treat us like idiots. Yeah?

The fuel.

Thank you.

-The engine is underneath... - Yeah, I know.

I'm sorry I had to, well...

lock you up for a while.

We will pay you. You...

Damn, if you're going to pay me.

We could use your help.

We are looking...

this island.

For your honeymoon?

No, but it doesn't come out on current maps.

Because, technically, it doesn't exist.

- Your people stole it from us. - Our?

Yes, the English. The fucking Ministry of Defense.

That's English soil. I don't set foot there.

You don't have to put it in, just leave us there.

Oh right, that's how it starts.

Daughters of perfidious Albion giving orders to a humble Scotsman.

And, without realizing it, a mannered monarchy controls you

that has brought nothing but sadness and bloodbaths since 1707.

It's okay.

That it's not my fault What will happen to Scotland, okay?

I'm sorry...

- I'm going to be honest with you. - OK.

There is someone on the island who needs us urgently.

No, there is no one there. There is nothing. Just puffin shit.

No, it's, it's...

They are. There are people on that island and we have...

We have information that they are doing very bad things

authorized by the English government.

- The English? - Yes.

Are they still the same?

Mammons.

I knew it.

Have told me before.

Were we going in the complete opposite direction?

At the risk of mansplaining, yes.

Also, do you see the compass? She's been screwed for ten years.

Don't fuck with me.

Tracker distance: 132 meters.

Let's go.

Nev. I didn't have to let you suffer.

How unprofessional, huh?

We have to go.

Is he coming for us?

I'm going to cut the signal.

Come on, let's go.

NO SIGNAL

Let's go.

- What do we do? - Take shelter.

Do they come by helicopter?

There is a boat, but it would be exposing yourself.

Is he coming for us?

Hey, I'm going to take you where you can hide.

Come on.

He liked you.

To my late husband.

He almost didn't know me.

Already. He liked everyone. That's what bothered me the most about him.

Have you been there for a long time?

Too much.

Still, not enough.

"When the streetlights They already light up at four

and one more year finds its end,

old toad, I will take you by the arm without mystery

and we will take the road to the cemetery."

You could humor me.

Hadn't you studied Literature? It's by Philip Larkin.

Yes, yes, of course.

Joe knew it by heart, I always cited him.

He was a textbook bloodhound.

What, was he following a trail without giving up?

It was big, wrinkled and leaving drool.

He fell in love with complete strangers,

he moved his tail and tried to solve them unsolvable problems.

He was a good man.

Yes. And, at the same time, a bit of an idiot.

That killed him.

He sniffed out a trail he shouldn't have followed.

You remind me of him.

That? You said he was an idiot.

- And an old dog. - A dog with a bone.

What you're doing with Dinah That's what Joe would do.

I don't know, if you want, cry or scream.

I won't tell anyone.

What I want is to do harm.

AUTOPSY REPORT UNKNOWN