Dark City: The Cleaner

The weather here in New Zealand is schizophrenic.

30 degrees today, could be 10 tomorrow.

We're a country known for its tranquility, its sheep,

its hobbit on hobbit violence.

But here in Christchurch, we're known for its Gothic architecture,

large green parks and creepy old men exposing themselves at playgrounds.

Some years we voted the friendliest city in the world.

By who? I have no idea.

Probably not those kids in those playgrounds,

and certainly not anybody I've met.

I grew up here in Christchurch, and I love calling it my home.

Right now I'd kill for a beer and some earcon.

Classic Angela, she always sings in the shower after her run.

I think she'd like a bigger house, just for the acoustics.

This guy again. If an orphanage burned down, nobody would hear about it.

All the media wants to talk about is the Christchurch carver.

Four women dead over the last two years that they know of,

and the police are scratching their heads.

Hey, little fluffy.

What's that?

Who the fuck are you?

Oh yeah, I should probably say, this isn't my house.

Well, that wasn't pleasant.

I met Angela at the supermarket when she smiled at me.

Turned out she was smiling at somebody behind me.

But by then I was already hooked.

She was married, but that's not something to shy away from.

It just means learning two people's routines.

Sure, it's an extra effort,

but if you're not 100% committed to a relationship, then what's the point?

Often there can be a gap between the fantasy and the reality.

And even though Angela lived up to the fantasy,

things haven't played out how I wanted.

And I know the disappointments of today will stay with me for a long time.

Even so, I'm not going to let that stop me from trying again.

Everybody deserves to find romance.

Hey Jova, hey Pickle, you miss me?

I must seem like a god to them.

When they eat, what their view is, if they live or die.

People forget goldfish can live up to 40 years,

but I'm going to get 50 out of my guys.

The person you have dialed is not available.

Please leave a message.

Jo, it's your mother.

Where are you?

You said you'd be here for dinner.

Jo, it's your mother.

Jo, it's your mother!

You're not here again.

When are you going to get yourself a cell phone?

I made you that meatloaf you love so much.

Come on, hurry up.

Everyone is fascinated by me, trying to figure me out.

Police, media, podcasters, psychics.

Every week there's another profile.

I'm doing this for that reason, I'm doing that for this reason.

The person you have dialed is not available.

Please leave a message.

Jo, it's your mother.

If you don't call me, I'm calling the hospital.

Truth is, I'm just a regular guy, an average Jo, with a hobby.

I'm not a psychopath.

I don't hear voices.

I don't kill for God or Satan or the neighbour's dog.

I kill for me.

It's that simple.

I like women, and I like to do things to them that they won't let me do.

People always complain the planet has too many people living on it.

Eight billion of us fighting for resources, and half a woman.

So when you think about it, by picking off a couple of them every year,

I'm actually doing the world a favour.

Romance tastes sweeter when it's shorter.

No tears, no late night phone calls, just ships passing in the night.

But sometimes in a relationship, you have to do things you don't want to do.

Angela, please don't make me hurt your cat.

This is your last chance.

People like her think people like me have no morals.

But I love cats.

If Angela had just come out of the bathroom like I asked,

then Fluffy could have watched from the windowsill rather than from cat heaven.

Joe, it's about time.

Sorry I'm late, Mum.

I nearly called the hospitals.

I got busy with work.

Too busy to call your mother.

Too busy to leave me wondering if my only son is dead.

I have every mind not to let you in.

I have every mind to thank her if she doesn't.

Sorry, Mum.

Got you this.

Ah, fuck.

Who gives their mother a rose with thorns?

A bad son, obviously.

Maybe this will make up for it.

Not much of a present if you've already opened it.

I had one earlier.

Hey boss, we found another victim in the car outside.

Is it a cover?

Yeah, it's looking like it.

What do we know about this one?

Martha Harris, 67, lives alone, car's registered in her name.

Is that a gunshot wound?

As far as I can tell.

Great, so that guy has a gun now.

Your father would be rolling in his grave if he knew you treated me like this.

That would be a neat trick since he was cremated.

No need to be so sarcastical.

Sorry, Mum.

Here, these are on sale, so I got you one.

I'm fine.

I was trying to do something nice.

Thanks, Mum.

Just leave me a couple of dollars before you leave.

It's cold, you put yours in the oven.

I wasn't the one who was late.

Late? The late Mrs Middleton does have a nice ring to it.

It's meatloaf, it's your favourite.

Even the fly doesn't want it.

Well, how is it?

It's cold, it's dry, it's overcooked.

Same as always, Mum.

When are you going to get a cell phone?

I worry when I can't get hold of you.

They can track you on those things, where you go, what you do.

Who's they?

The government, cell phone companies, the police.

Why would the government care about when I go to the supermarket?

Maybe they're keen to know what's on special.

I bought a new jigsaw today, down from $30 to $12.

That's great, Mum.

A grisly discovery of two bodies in a peaceful residential neighbourhood tonight

has residents concerned that Christchurch Carver might be responsible for the tragedy.

Crime scene tape surrounds the property where the bodies of two women were found,

but police are refusing to share any further details.

At this stage, it's unclear if there's a connection between the women

or even whether they were killed by the same person or people.

It is also unknown whether an apple core, the Carver's infamous signature, was found at the scene.

But if this is the work of the Carver, it would bring the number of his victims to six.

Actually, you're short.

Katrina Shepard, my fourth kill.

The one they never found, or even looked for.

She's probably a skeleton by now, rotting away in that boot.

Oh, the news. It's always so bad.

When are you going to meet someone, Joe?

I'm looking.

At men?

Told you already, Mum, I'm not gay.

Are you sure?

I'd be the first to know.

Just...

make sure, before you commit to a nice young woman.

Otherwise it wouldn't be fair.

Day one in a world without Angela.

Over time I've found the experience from my relationship sustained me for at least several months.

A good thing, too. Otherwise the world really might run out of women.

Like them.

You're cute.

You're cute, too.

And other times I would start to get to know them better.

But it's too soon.

Hang on.

Where did you come from?

Wow, you're beautiful.

Look at that smile.

You could light up a room.

And the way you move, with such grace.

Well now, maybe it's not too soon after all.

Hm. A definite maybe.

God, I love window shopping.

Hey, Jip.

Officer Sam.

These days the police stationers hustling and bustling with stressed out and anxious detectives.

The day of and following a homicide is when that hustling and bustling are at their greatest.

After all my kills, they still have nothing.

I actually feel bad for them in some ways.

I started working here after I killed a guy by the name of Dan.

Or maybe it was Don.

When the Christchurch Carver investigation was beginning,

and I was spending every minute wondering if the police would break down my door,

I was freaking out.

I had to know what was going on.

So after I made Dan Don the cleaner disappear, I applied for his job.

Now I'm the invisible man who goes where he wants with his broom and mop,

who has every piece of information about the Christchurch Carver at his fingertips.

Okay, listen up.

The cause of death was a single gunshot wound to the abdomen.

We were here later this morning from ballistics.

Detective Inspector Carl Schroeder, leading the task force.

If I told him he could find that ballistics match in my briefcase, he wouldn't believe me.

Martha Harris was at Stonefield Cemetery visiting her husband's grave.

And now she can join him.

Now I'm thinking our guy must have carjacked her.

Close. She caught me stealing it after I'd gone there to visit my dad.

Anything else? We got anything else, guys?

Keys were in with the car. So he must have taken them or dumped them.

Yeah, family said they were on a key ring with a Celtic design.

Unless you're stuffing mum into her red bin, you're not going to find those keys, Robert.

The coroner confirmed Angela's cause of death is she choked on the airport.

They also confirmed she wasn't raped.

I'm not a monster.