Dublin Murders

We always think that the ones who get away are the lucky ones.

They must have someone watching over them.

They're blessed.

We're not supposed to think like that.

Sentimental bullshit, that's not for us jaded bastards,

but we do.

And if someone still clings to life,

a flicker of pulse, you think, "Lucky…

blessed, watched over."

But what if the killed are the lucky ones?

The brightest, the most golden, most alive, they're chosen…

and the rest of us aren't lucky at all.

Not blessed,

not watched over by some kind angel.

The ones who get left,

they're just too slow,

too stupid, too muddy, too dull.

The gods don't want them.

They're lumps.

They're rejects.

We all are.

Rejects.

We won't see each other again.

Roger, Control, we've got the whole area sealed off.

["Over and Over" by Hot Chip playing on speaker]

Hang up and try again.

Hang up and try again.

Eye witness is saying they saw someone like me.

Isn't really me though, is it?

I know that, Cian.

But we've got to go through the motions, tick the boxes.

-I was with Alannah all night. -What were you doing?

Do the English even do that?

Heard all the girls have to fake it 'cause they're so shit and repressed.

It's absolutely true.

I don't even go into that shop. It's a shit hole.

Food in there's always out of date.

Wouldn't be seen dead in the kip.

As you've mentioned the word dead.

-She speaks. -Cashier who got stabbed.

Well, he is. Bled out right there.

Poor fella, I'll light a candle for him.

I should be at home. Should be in bed.

And I'm sat here while you lot dick around.

I told you what happened over and over.

He's saying it was you.

What? What was me?

Your boyfriend, Cian, he says it was you.

-He wouldn't. -And you've got a conviction,

possession of an offensive weapon, a serrated kitchen knife.

That was years ago.

I was 14, for fuck's sake, didn't do anything with it.

What's the jury gonna think when they look at you?

You're what, 23 now?

You've already got two kids, that don't live with you,

because of the never-ending car crash of your life.

But despite that, you're having another one,

because you think this time it's gonna be the fairy tale

with a happy ending and it's not, 'cause a man's dead in a pool of blood

and you're the one with the prior conviction,

so you'll go to prison and Cian will find someone new,

because he reckons he can do better

and deep down, Alannah, darling, you agree with him,

because you don't think you're worth anything either.

Why should anyone love you when you're lower than shit?

There is no fairy tale, no happy ending, not for you, not ever.

There is only this moment right here, right now,

and what you do with it.

- -Three, two, one.

Did Cian leave the flat?

Did you get rid of the knife for him?

I put it down the grating

of the drain outside me flat, put it in a carrier bag.

It still had blood on it.

It's yours.

How can you have two sauces in a bacon sandwich?

Red sauce one side, brown on the other, that's the rules.

You're a monster.

-Well done. -

-Ruthless bastard. - Hm.

Detective Garda Cassandra Maddox.

- Here he comes. -

-The good man himself. - Thank you. Thank you.

I know that little prick, that Cian.

He's been a twat since he was in nappies.

-Good man yourself, though. -Well, it wasn't just me, was it?

I've been thinking, we should team up again.

I've got a partner.

Yeah, but we all know she's only in Murder, because of quotas.

-O'Kelly. -What?

All you did was your job, Reilly, no call to look smug.

-It's just my face, sir. -Hm-mm.

-Where's the other one? -She's in court this morning,

her old case, before she was on Murder.

If it's not my squad, I don't give a bollocks.

Get off your ass and go out to the country.

Local garda have called it in, Forensics already attending.

-Piss off. -I'll come with you.

What the fuck are these?

You're the sheriff now?

Are you gonna ride into town and make a giant tit sandwich

out of everything?

No, sir.

Then go back to your desk and do some work and I see that T-shirt again,

I will staple your sorry penis to the wall.

Jesus Christ

Are you trying to give me an aneurism?!

Fuck…

Why haven't you pissed off yet?

I will, when you tell me where the body is, sir.

It was your evidence that helped secure Mr. Johnstone's conviction,

when you were working as an undercover officer.

That's correct.

Mr. Johnstone asserts that, while he accepts his sentence,

it is his inalienable right to maintain contact with his children from prison,

as any other loving father would be allowed to do.

What Mr. Johnstone wants is to know where his wife is.

Allowing him any contact whatsoever with his children

means a clear and immediate threat, to the safety and well-being

of both his children and their mother.

They must remain hidden.

Mr. Johnstone may be in prison but his associates will do the work for him.

Any further questions?

No further questions, Judge.

What have you got?

Twelve-year-old scrote drove a stolen car into his mother's front room,

because he didn't want noodles for his tea.

Fair.

You quality dickhead.

-Ah, that's me nailed. -

See you tonight?

I can't, got a body.

How was Johnstone?

Oh, you know, he'd like my head on a spike.

-Huh. -Pretty ordinary, really.

-Where we going? -Knocknaree.

I didn't know where, until it was too late.

Your boots are in the back.

Is it the woods?

- -

Rob Reilly and Cassie Maddox.

Phelan. This way, Detectives.

Archaeologists, it's a dig.

They've statements and personal details being taken.

Come on, Adam.

Peter, Jamie, wait up.

Her name is Katherine Devlin.

She's 13.

She was registered as missing at 2:47 p.m. yesterday.

I ran a check. The photo of the Missing Persons sent through.

It's her.

She lives up on the estate.

S-- She lived up on the estate.

Have her family been contacted?

No, sir.

We'll do that.

Some bastard had been…

you know, ah… at her.

Apart from killing her, you mean?

Gonna need more presence on the road, make sure no cameras get through,

-before we've got the tent up. -Yeah, on it.

Phelan.

Good job.