Obituary

Oh, Dad. You've left me in a pretty awful position.

There are some people in town who think Hughie didn't do it.

The real killer is out there, and I know who they are.

By deadline, I wanna see a story I can't say no to,

or your resignation letter.

I hate living in a world where you're dead

and they're alive, cracking jokes about ya.

I heard the man died happy. Went out with a face full of pussy!

They'll pay.

I'm about to become the chief suspect in a murder case.

And I didn't even do this one!

You look tired.

You with the compliments.

Same thing happened me,

no shut eye after Mam passed, felt like I had

a brain full of razor blades.

Just worried I'll forget him.

How much sleep are you getting? Uhm...

An hour and a bit last night.

Then there's a good chance you saw them. Saw who?

Oh, my car? Where were you last night?

It's about my stolen car, isn't it? Home alone?

Emerson's. Yeah I was awake but no, I didn't see them.

I just noticed it missing around ten.

No doubt you called here? This morning, no answer.

Why would you want...

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

It's in lock up.

I can't disclose where we found it. So the killer used it?

Wow!

'Okay. I need someone who knows what they're doing.'

"Where are you? Oisín?"

"Oisín? Oisín, I need you to listen to me carefully."

"My car is in..." Hello?!

Now?! Make the car look stolen?

How much?

Fuck off. Still fuck off.

Fine. What does the Prim Reaper want?

A ride.

Just be careful, yeah?

Of her? Big paranoid head on ya.

What are you doing? I need to borrow these.

Look stolen. Mad bitch!

This town hasn't seen action like this since the Riedle murder.

It's like these yokels are killing people on purpose.

They're calling it the nation's new murder capital.

What was it known for before? Inbreeding.

Yeah. Guards are stumped, think it's a one off.

I wouldn't bank on it.

Folks, it's buzzing out there. Okay?

I can't believe I could get done for the one murder I didn't commit.

All because this killer decided to come to my patch.

I've got to find them before anyone else does.

Bluntly put, Ruby's death, although tragic,

is a big, fat, big-titted hit for this paper.

We are in the eye of the hurricane,

so much so that by year's end,

I fully intend to present to my mother

projected profits for the first time in five years.

Let's keep those juicy stories coming down the slop shoot.

Emerson?

Yeah, so I wanna start with Ruby's past, her background,

her school friends, old boyfriends-- Woah there jockstrap, no!

You're the only one here who's actually killing it.

Stay in politics. But hold on!

I solved the last murder this town had, and now you're what,

you're suggesting we run the paper without a crime correspondent?

Fine, during your absence you'll be replaced by...

Well, if anyone should do it, it should be Elvira.

Me? Her?

The gulf between crime and obituaries isn't that big.

Emerson's right! Elvira, you're it.

Thanks. Start the minute we wrap.

Now... an announcement!

Nowadays there's this pressure to overshare.

Dealing with your problems in private is somehow deemed inauthentic.

Well bollocks to that, people who don't talk about their struggles

may still struggle, that doesn't mean that they're fruit loops.

I don't have to tell anyone my shit.

I smell a but coming. But...

There it is. That doesn't mean stewing in silence either.

See eh...

Folks, I was breastfed until the age of six.

And then my mother decides to go and get a boob job.

Suddenly... tap goes dry.

Can't even look at a cow now.

Hence, this fab therapist I'm seeing,

and we're practising something called mammary reversion therapy.

And as I talked to her this morning,

she said Ruby's death could be triggering.

To you? To ye!

So you're all going to grief counselling.

Yay!

With your therapist? What? At 600 an hour? Fuck no!

Find out the cheapest one in town. There's only one in town.

Please don't say-- Christine Churchyard.

Uh... sorry, but what if therapy isn't for us?

That's something that crazy people who desperately need therapy say.

Suck it up sweet cheeks, company policy.

"Leave a message, and I might get back to ya. Good luck."

Oisín, you're a tough man to reach.

I just wanted to thank you for last night and see how it went.

I'm heading to the Garda station soon so,

no pressure but maybe give me a call before then, yeah?

"An investigation team at Kilraven Garda Station

is actively pursuing the circumstances

surrounding the tragic murder of Ruby Conroy.

The state pathologist has examined the scene,

and the remains have been taken for further investigation.

Miss Conroy's family is being kept informed of our progress

and we have appointed a family liaison officer.

I urge anyone

with information about Ruby's murder, no matter how small...

to come forward."

There's talk of rain, lads, I'll take questions inside.

Starting with the local press.

Okay, time to see who's smarter, me or her.

I'm betting on me.

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

It's in lock up, I can't disclose where we found it.

So the killer used it?

Wow.

So how was she killed--? Hand me your phone, please.

Do I have a choice?

Slippery of you that, the way you played it.

People who hand over their phones real easy

have something they want you to see.

When they put up a fight they're usually hiding something, but you...

You were right down the middle.

Guess she's smarter than I thought.

I see the call to us but then...

.. these other calls, last night and today, to Oisín Markum?

No crossing of arms, stay receptive. She has nothing.

Oisín is-- A scrote.

A person with a chequered past.

I called him hoping to get some info on my stolen car but nothing.

Look, I'm flat broke.

It's pathetic, but I need that car for work.

Yeah, everyone loves a sob story!

Was there... blood in the car?

Only piss. Piss?

Window was tampered with, car hotwired

and then this... 'thief', took a pretty disrespectful pitstop

in your driver's seat. No way I'm getting it back soon.

'Fraid not. And what about my phone?

That all depends.

Mick? "Hullo?"

Yeah, swing by Oisín Markum's,

his whereabouts last night, take a statement.

As much detail as you can, we're after lies here.

"Right, Siobhán."

You, me and your phone will stay put 'til Mick's back.

If Oisín backs up your story, then all's well that ends well.

Mm..

Shit.

Oisín Markum? Garda!

Oisín, open up.

Control, we need an ambulance down at the caravan park, ASAP.

Hold on there now! Hold on! I got a few words to say.

Man.

If you give me a moment!

As a potential local representative,

I have a duty of care to express...

.. express people's frustrations.

We want this killer dead!

And if the Guards won't do it, we'll do it ourselves!

What's the plan? And what are you gonna do about it?

Um

The matter is still very raw.

So any more I say on it, I'll say at the debate.

Now regarding this debate...

The man likes to talk. Yep.

Some say it'll be his downfall.

And what do you say?

I say if we're gonna work together you're gonna have to do

everything I tell ya. Do you have a plan?

To win the election? To win the debate.

You don't need to win the debate.

I don't? No.

You just need to not lose it.

'Fight for the soul of this town.'

Nice touch peeing on the car seat.

Talk about above and beyond.

Listen,

when you wake up, and you will wake up,

they're going to question you alone.

My advice?

Probably best you have a touch of amnesia.

Induced coma. Took a beating.

So you're saying he'll live?

Sounds like you wanted him to die.

Two murders, technically we can call it a serial killer!

And I want a serial killer, Elvira.

You don't know who attacked him.

Well, if he died no one would know either.

Fear sells. Our readers want to get fucked, not fingered,

which means you...

.. hammering home that this killer

is hiding in plain sight and could strike at any time!

It makes no sense. From what I saw,