Jack Taylor: The Magdalen Martyrs

Ah, Jesus!

Jack.

It's Cody.

- Jack! This is important. - Cody.

Give me a minute. And then I'll kill you.

- Good crack last night? - Probably unforgettable.

Jack, there was a murder last night.

Near the Spanish Arch by the Corrib.

Young fella got capped in the brains.

No witnesses. Apparently the victim's a local lad.

A Damien Flood.

Damien Flood?

Isn't that one of Brendan Flood's sons?

Who's Brendan Flood?

Used to be a guard. A good one.

- Till he got religion. - Right.

I reckon we start by interviewing family, then we focus on a motive for the murder.

Easy, Batman. We're not a charity.

We've got a living to make.

But this looks like a big case. It could make our names.

"Taylor and Cody crack Galway murder case."

More like: "Taylor and Cody get their heads cracked by the guards

for butting into a murder case."

Where are you going?

To make a living.

- Jack Taylor. - Maggie McCarthy.

- An old stone building used to stand here. - The Magdalen laundry.

One of the clergy's brighter ideas.

If naughty girls clean enough dirty laundry,

some of the detergent's bound to rub off on their sinning souls.

Would you imprison someone for stealing a loaf of bread?

For misbehaving? For being raped?

I'm sorry.

I'm still...

It's only been a week since we buried our mother.

There's no need to apologise.

It was a relief really in the end.

She didn't have an easy life, Mam.

Manic depression, self-mutilation.

Violent rages.

Herself and Da eventually broke up.

I moved up north with him.

My brother stayed here with Mam.

When she died...we thought that there would finally be some closure...

..but going through her belongings, I found an old diary.

I'd never seen it before.

It certainly explained a lot.

Six years she spent in there - 1 960 to '66.

And every day was a torture.

It was a bad place.

There was one nun in particular.

Mam never mentions her by name in the diary.

But the girls called her Lucifer.

Sounds appropriate.

She's the one who took my mother's life.

I want you to find this Lucifer.

Find out who she is.

Will this be enough?

You paying me to find someone, or bump them off?

You mentioned a diary.

- That's private. - lf I take this case on, nothing is private.

It's the only thing she left me.

I'll guard it with my life. That's a promise.

OK.

I trust you.

The last time I heard those three words followed by my name,

a young boy ended up getting killed.

I was in half a mind to run back and shout..

""Lady, don't be a feckin' eejit, nobody trusts Jack Taylor and neither should you. ""

Garda Noonan...

I see you have four weeks left of your probationary period.

That's correct, sir.

Well, you've worked hard - extra hours, overtime,

and DS Kavanagh has put in a good word for you.

Has he?

And in my view you have demonstrated your ability to return to full-time duty.

So I'm re-instating you, as and of today.

- Thank you, sir. - And, Noonan?

If you value your career in the force, stay away from Jack Taylor.

Yes, sir.

Kate.

- DS Kavanagh. - Dave, please.

My name's Dave.

What's the deal with you putting in a good word for me to Clancy?

- Erm... - What are you after?

- I'm not after anything. - You did it out of the goodness of your heart.

Look, er, we got off on the wrong foot.

It was a big case for me and I was, well...overeager.

In the end you were right and I was...

Well, let's just say I don't blame you for what you did.

Anyway. Glad to see you back full-time.

Thank you.

What do you know about the Magdalen Laundries?

Mad nuns. Unhappy girls. Tons of washing.

I seen the film, like.

- What's going on, Skip? - I want you to go into Church Records.

Dig up every file you can find on the St Monica's Laundry in Galway, 1 960 to 1 966.

They'll have a list of nuns who worked there as well as the girls.

Church Records? I dunno, sure they're worse than the ClA.

They'll never let me into their files.

That's where your clever disguise comes in.

- Clever disguise? - Fuck's sake, Cody. Make something up.

"Young, Single, Catholic"? Never heard of it.

Voted Ireland's No.1 religious website.

Last month we streamed the Pope's speech straight from the Vatican.

- Streamed? - Ah, bit of a techie yourself I hear.

We're doing a piece on the religious history of Galway.

Which is why I'm here.

You'll have to fill out these forms.

Your application will take three weeks to process.

Could I not...look at the files first and fill out the forms after?

No.

Father.

Church Records?

I know who you are, ya brazen pup!

Who are you?

Why are you suddenly our No.1 fan?

Fuck you, Jack.

Eloquent as well as handsome.

Whoever you are, lay the fuck off.

Anything broken?

No, she's fine.

Gone?

Every record for St Monica's in Galway, the period 1 960 to 1 966.

Vanished.

And the period after that?

I didn't get that far.

And believe me, they'll let lan Paisley in there before I get in again.

A filing disaster? Or is someone protecting Lucifer?

Smells like a conspiracy to me, Skip.

An early winter smells like a conspiracy to you.

Now I want you to dig around.

Find some of the old Magdalen girls.

One or two are bound to be still around Galway.

Gotcha.

Oh, and erm...about earlier with yer man...

Cheers.

Oh, where did you get it?

Traded it from yer man, the gardener.

- Traded? For what? - A song and a shilling. What do you think?

Did you...did you let him touch you?

Don't get sniffy with me, Louise.

Sure, you yourself would do anything to get out of here if you had the chance.

God will have mercy on us. He'll see us through and get us out.

I'm not waiting around for God to make up his mind.

- I'm getting out of here myself. - And how will you do that, Mary?

I'll find someone to marry. Become a proper lady.

Have a house, have children. And a car.

People will greet me when I walk down the street.

I'll bake cakes for the communion and go to church every day.

What?

Eejits!

Mm.

Mother of God.

# Be thou my vision

More feeling, girls.

# Lord of my heart

# Naught be all else to me

# Save that thou art...

It's no surprise to catch you two whores engaging in lewd activities.

But poor Louise... That was a disappointment.

I found the poor creature outside.

She probably tried to run away, then changed her mind and couldn't get back in.

- Jack Taylor. - Nice wheels, Bill.

- Have you got insurance for that? - Still chasing lost cats and lost causes?

You know me, Bill. Always playing the big time.

Heard you had a new case.

- News travels fast. - I want you to drop it.

Or else what? You'll run me over with the wheelchair?

Use your imagination, Jack.

I don't take kindly to threats, Bill.

Well, maybe it's time you learned.

Oh, and Jack.

I want that diary.

What diary would that be, Bill?

Casey here has been like a son to me.

What you did to him, most people I'd have their faces ripped off.

But you and I go back, Jack.

So I'll let it slide.

Just this once.

That fella, I've seen him before.

Bill Cassell. Runs the drug trade in town.

Cassell. Right. I've heard stories about him.

He's the one who pushed a guy's face in the deep fat fryer, right?

Nah. That's a myth.

- He never put his face in the pan. - Never believed it anyways.

It was his balls.

Whoa-hoh!

Job interview, or are you just trying to impress me?

How'd you get on?

Right, I had a chat with some old fellas living near the laundries all their lives.

They don't recall any names for the penguins.

Kept to themselves they did. Had their own church, own graveyard.

Rarely left the premises. Right cosy setup.

It seems weird that this nun Lucifer should've lived here for years,

but none of the oldies know who she was or what happened to her.

Wall of silence, Cody. It's how this country worked.

Right. I'll try and track down some of the girls who were there, so, but it'll take time.

This case doesn't make sense. Why is Bill Cassell, biggest drug lord in the west,

protecting scum like Lucifer?