State your name for the record please.
Lyle Jennings.
-How's your eye? -I've been hit way harder.
Where? Here?
Here. At school. At home.
-By who? -Depended on the day really.
But we always deserved it.
"We"?
Me and my brother.
-Why'd you say you deserve it? -We were shites.
They worked hard to put food on the table, and we were ungrateful.
-Those are your words? -The words I'm using.
It sounds like something a parent would say.
Well, she didn't really say anything.
-"She"? -Our ma.
Sometimes she'd just stop talking to us for, like, months.
Months?
And we'd always try and figure out what we did wrong, but…
Mm.
…it's way worse than getting hit.
Not as bad as the hyperbar though.
The hyperbar? What's that?
Hyperbaric chamber.
It's what they put divers in if they get the bends.
-Like for scuba diving? -Yeah.
You know, sometimes the divers, they go down, and…
you know, to check on the rigs or whatever,
and if they spend too long down there or they come up too fast,
they have to go in there.
Our da bought an old one for his business--
Uh, and your ma would put you inside this thing as punishment?
Aye.
-For how long? -It was hard to tell.
She'd turn the lights on and off at random hours.
Harry would tell me what time and day it was,
but I just knew he was making it up.
He was tryna keep me calm. I don't really like wee spaces like that.
Harry looked after you.
Yeah, and I looked after Harry.
After he died, sometimes she'd just put us in there
and go and get pissed and forget we were in there.
Put "us" in there? You mean put you in there?
You said, "sometimes she'd put us in there,"
but you were in there alone.
But I wasn't alone.
Harry was with me.
So then, this was after Harry died?
Aye, it was.
So Harry was dead? He… He was gone?
Aye, he was dead, but he wasn't gone. Harry would never leave me.
So then, is he a ghost?
Think I'm a fucking pudding-head?
Harry wasn't a ghost.
He was Harry.
Is he here right now, then?
Fuck off. You're just playing with me now.
I'm not playing with you.
If you tell me to fuck off again, I'm gonna kick you in the other eye.
Understood?
Tell me about Sam Haig. What's up there?
Tell you about who?
Sam. The kid that you've been bothering.
The kid who did that to you, to your face.
Oh, no, that's Harry.
Your dead brother kicked you in the eye?
You don't believe me?
I just want to find out why he would do something like that.
Oh, he was mad at me.
-What for? -For bugging him.
He didn't like it when I followed him around.
Called me a little fucking bampot.
But if I didn't follow him…
he'd be dead.
Lyle, your brother is dead. You know that, right?
You… You said so yourself. You said these exact words.
"After Harry died."
Aye. Okay.
The kid you've been following around isn't your brother.
It's another kid named Sam Haig.
No, that's Harry.
He looks like Harry, but he's not.
Once more, he's named Sam Haig.
I know you understand that.
If you say so.
So where do we think they've got this wee nutter parked up these days?
-I was looking into that. -We know ten years ago he was out.
I found no record of Lyle Jennings
after he was transferred to the EPD unit at Rampton.
-But six years-- -EPD?
Um, Enhanced Personality Disorder. He was there for--
-What is Rampton? -It's a nutter bin.
Carl and I were there to interview--
Will you all shut the fuck up
and let this poor girl finish a sentence for once?
Jesus.
Just a reminder, love, the dark angel's gonna be here soon, okay?
Oh, do I have to?
You go right ahead, Rose. Carry on.
Don't let these arrogant shites be such arrogant shites.
Thank you, Donna.
So…
six years ago, there's an L. Jennings
with an address in Longay, which I found interesting--
-It's right across the way from-- -Let her fucking say it!
Right across the way from Mhòr.
But L. Jennings is no longer living there.
What does "L" stand for?
Everything I found, the address, the lecky, the rent,
was all in L. Jennings's name.
So it could be Lyle Jennings, or it could be Larry Jennings.
But there is a proximity to Mhòr.
There's that, and there's the fact that L. Jennings worked for the ferry.
-How do you know? -Spoke to the landlady.
She remembers him. I'm waiting on a driver's license.
Why didn't you just say that to begin with?
-Oh, right. -Mm.
-Okay, so you're done? -I am, yes.
Okay, so, recap.
We know that Lyle Jennings was at Godhaven with Sam Haig.
We know that Lyle was the brother of Harry Jennings
who robbed the Lingards, attacked William, and died trying to escape.
What we don't know is if L. Jennings is our Lyle.
But if he is, well, we suddenly have a direct link to Merritt.
I do know that whatever deluded reason
this twisted little tit has to hurt Merritt,
she's dead.
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la
Arachnophobia, from the Greek arachne and phobia,
is the fear of spiders
and other arachnids, such as scorpions and ticks.
Individuals with arachnophobia overestimate
the likelihood of encountering spiders.
Sufferers have negative reactions to spiders' webs
and overestimate a spider's size and girth.
This fear and overestimation can cause physical symptoms,
such as dizziness,
nausea,
sweating, shaking,
trembling,
increased heart rate, screaming, and crying.
As for when to seek treatment, you might ask yourself
if your phobia impacts you in the following ways.
Does it make it difficult to go outside?
Does it get in the way of work?
Does it impact your social life?
Does it prevent you from spending time with your loved ones?
Does it keep you awake?
Does it consume your thoughts on a daily basis?
-These are a few of the questions… -Sorry, I did knock.
You wanted to see me, ma'am?
We're still nowhere on Leith Park.
Not nowhere.
We have a solid connection between the victim and P.C. Anderson.
How solid?
We believe P.C. Anderson may have been involved.
Involved in his own death?
Anderson's stated reason for being on scene has become… problematic.
Problematic how?
He claimed to Hardy and Morck
the victim's daughter called in a wellness check.
This proved to be untrue.
She didn't call?
She doesn't exist.
Why am I just hearing this now?
We've only just discovered it. But it's opened up a new line of inquiry.
It… certainly has.
Tell me, Logan. How did you get all of this new information?
My original question stands.
How are you gonna close this one?
We can't just leave it open. Not when three of our own were shot.
I'm not suggesting we leave it open.
Are you taking it away from me?
I don't know. Should I?
You want to give it to Morck?
I don't know. Should I?
He can't investigate his own shooting.
You're right. He can't. But can you?
I absolutely can.
Then fucking do it, or I will give it to someone else.
If you answered yes to any of the above,
you may consider seeing a psychotherapist
or reading the children's book Charlotte's Web.
Ailsa?
Can an old woman no have a wee nap
without some arsehole pounding on her door?
-I brought you this. -You the postman now, John?
Danny said he hadn't seen you for a while, so…
It's not like I'm missing anything.
It's all rubbish.
This is probably just an excuse
for you to nip over and see if I'm still breathing, eh?
Ach, you'll still be breathing long after the rest of us.
But you're right. I'm not here to drop off the mail.
Oh, yeah?
You see, I… I get a record of every 999 call made
from the dispatch center on the mainland.
They had one the other day and pinged it to here.
There a problem?
Well, considering that it was cut off a second after it connected,
I was hoping that you might tell me.
-Me? -The call came from your mobile.
Well, I don't know how that could be, John,
because the only thing I do pretty much all day is
watch Antiques Roadshow and, uh, the Chelsea flower program.
That how you got that bruise, eh? Watching the flower show?
I forgot about this.
-Imagine it looks worse than it feels. -How'd you do it?
It's stupid really. I was carrying the rubbish out to the bin.
Lost my balance and went over.
See, I'm supposed to use the wheelchair when I'm carrying something.
-Mm. -But I hate it.
Makes me feel like an invalid.
-And you called 999? -Can't remember.
-Ailsa. -I mean, uh… maybe I did.
Is he here?
You know it's not safe for you if that boy's around.
He's not a boy.
More's the point. Did he do that?
If he did,
do you think I'd call the polis on my own son
after what youse did to my other one?
I warned him.
I told him exactly what would happen if I caught him round here again.
He's well aware of your warning.
Yeah, well, being aware isn't the same thing as obeying, now, is it?
He's no here.
He's shacked up with some sloppy little whore over in Longay.
Yeah? So you're all on your own then, eh?
I've got my shotgun.
Otherwise, it's just me and the bird shite.
All the same, I'll be coming round more often.
That's fine, John.
You bring the mail, and I'll put the kettle on, eh?
Emergency. Which service?
Why is it so hot?
The hyperbaric chamber will begin to heat up
as pressure increases.
At five atmospheres, or 50 meters depth,
the temperature inside the chamber will be around 32 Celsius,
or 90 degrees Fahrenheit.
The rule of thumb is the deeper, the hotter.
Oxygen will become denser, and it will become tougher to breathe.
A person may start to experience hyperoxia, or…
Help.
Help, help!
Help me!
Help me, help me!
Help me!
…and blurred vision.
I'm… I'm Merritt Lingard.
Please help me!
Boy, tell me I am not looking at what I'm looking at.
Tell me that is not Merritt fucking Lingard.
Tell me.
Oi!
You remembered our deal?
That's the fucker who took me!
Help me! Get me out of here!
Has she been in there this entire time?
It's complicated.
Things didn't happen exactly as, um…
"She fell overboard, John!"
"It was an accident, John."
"Poetic justice, John."
Four years. Nothing.
And now I've had cops over from the mainland
twice in the last week, asking about her.
Help me!
Christ!
Back then, I thought
what's done is done,
that both families had suffered enough.
You've kept her in this fucking oversized iron lung
for four years.
What am I supposed to do now?
Walk away.
Honestly, just get in your car and go, and…
next time you come back here, she'll be gone.
We'll be gone.
Oh, I can't do that.
Not this time.
So… then we're stuck.
Seems so.
Does Ailsa know you've--
Hello, Claire, William.
-Thanks for coming. -Your message was very cryptic.
So…
we want to… show you something.
Please.
This is…
Harry Jennings.
Merritt liked Harry.
He looks like a good guy.
Was he?
Why then do you think
he attacked you?
…quick ball into the…
Da?
Hello?
Harry?
The constable on Mhòr said that Harry had a temper,
that Harry was always getting into fights.
Here's the thing, William.
Harry doesn't have a criminal record.
There's nothing.
But… Lyle Jennings has one.
Lyle was sent to Godhaven right after Harry died.
Right after you were attacked.
Harry, what are you daeing?
I'm so sorry.
No!
Lyle!
All right, stop!
-I think we should st… -Stop!
That's enough!
What are you doing here?
I thought you were gonna leave with the sister.
Go outside and get in the fucking car.
It's a good thing I was here, or you'd be fuckin' dead.
Fuck.
That's enough.
I told you that this was going to be a short interview
and then we were gonna go home.
So it's okay. Then we're… Oh. Then we're going home.
No, it's… it's okay. Leave him. It's fine.
He's not trying to hurt me.
He's afraid.
Is that what happened on the ferry when you hit Merritt?
You weren't angry. You were afraid. Because you saw Lyle on the boat.
You saw this man.
Same person that was in your house on the night of the burglary.
Harry Jennings didn't attack you.
Lyle Jennings did.
Could this also be Lyle Jennings?
What was that about?
William Lingard identified Lyle Jennings as the man on the ferry.
How'd he do that? Thought he doesn't speak.
-He drew him. -Carl--
-You need to call the coastguard. -What for?
To get us to Mhòr
so we can talk to Ailsa Jennings about where her son might be.
-I'm not calling the fucking coastguard. -Then get us a helicopter.
A heli… There's a fucking ferry.
You've been rather public about reopening the case.
I've been rather public?
I'm just saying he has to know we're looking for him.
The sooner we get a handle on his whereabouts, the better.
So go find him.
But when you do, you stand down and call for backup. Understood?
What about the boat?
Sure, Carl. I'll put in a request to get you the departmental speedboat.
There's a departmental speedboat?
Fuck off.
Thank you.
Rose cannot contact the constable on Mhòr, Cunningham.
What do you mean, she can't?
The son is telling her
he hasn't heard from him since yesterday morning.
So he won't know we're coming.
Why do you say this?
The first time we're here, you asked about Harry Jennings.
Yes.
Cunningham never mentioned Lyle, which I find odd.
-Why talk about one and not the other? -I never asked about Lyle.
No, but he described Harry as the troublemaker.
Something about having a temper and getting into fights.
I was pulling that lad off boys in the pub at least once a week.
He had what I would call a foul temper.
But Lyle was the one who went away to Godhaven, not Harry.
A bloke like Cunningham will never admit that he chased the wrong kid to his death.
For many people, the truth is simply what it needs to be.
I wanna write about Godhaven.
What about it?
-All of it. The whole experience. -Why'd you need my permission then?
I don't need it, but… I'd feel better if you were okay with it.
-Why wouldn't I be? -Because of what happened.
-I wanna apologize to you. -For what?
For what I did, mate.
Not a day goes by where I don't think about it and feel like shite.
So a part of me coming to see you is so that I can, you know, make amends.
Fucking make amends? Are you sober or something now?
Sooner or later we all have to pay for what we've done.
That's the second person I've heard say that in a week.
Well, it's true. And it's my turn.
-How did you find me? -Just…
did what I do.
So how do you… do what you do… without getting caught?
How'd you mean?
How'd you get close to someone so you can investigate them?
Not planning on stalking someone?
Not planning on stalking me again?
No. Uh…
Just taking the piss, mate.
The initial approach is everything.
Act like you don't give a shit if they talk.
Be confident, which will be hard for you,
but you've gotta fake it.
I want you to have something.
My mobile. If you need anything, okay?
Okay.
Us G-haven boys gotta stick together, right?
Yeah, absolutely.
I'd best get back to work. Thanks for swinging by.
Aye.
One of these days you and me should go up the Cullen Crag.
Oh, yeah? What's up there?
My temple. I'm a climber.
Rock climber. You ever tried it?
Naw, man. Afraid of heights.
Just taking the piss, bro.
Listen, uh… thanks for being so cool about all this.
Yeah, sure, Sam.
-See you later, eh? -Aye.
Okay, folks, sit down, stay still. We're getting going.
The hyperbaric chamber will begin to heat up
as pressure increases.
At five atmospheres, or 50 meters depth,
the temperature inside the chamber will be around 32 Celsius,
or 90 degrees Fahrenheit.
The rule of thumb is the deeper, the hotter.
Oxygen will become denser, and it will become tougher to breathe.
A person may start to experience hyperoxia,
or high levels of CO2 in their breathing.
These symptoms include trembling, sweating, confusion,
headaches, and blurred vision.
Can I have some more water?
More water.
What's happening up there?
I'm turning off everything, except the pressure.
Hello?
This plastic,
it's strong, even with the crack.
My dad invented it.
So it'll be impossible for you to break.
Why would I want to break the window?
To cause a sudden depressurization.
To kill yourself.
You know, so you don't slowly suffocate to death
from the extreme high pressure.
Rot in hell, bitch.
Harry was an excellent brother.
I know.
But Harry was only ever looking out for me.
And then it was my turn to look out for Harry,
and I did.
What do you mean?
I mean that I kept your brother from hurting my brother.
So… William,
that was you.
No, fuck, no, no.
No, that was you. It was you.
All Harry could ever think about was you.
If he'd never met you, then… we wouldn't be standing here, would we?
So you're guilty, Merritt, and I think you know it.
I think that's why you came back for his funeral. Mm.
And no one ever truly gets away with a crime.
Isn't that what you said?
Sooner or later,
whatever they did always catches up with them.
I firmly believe that those who commit violent crime
don't ever truly get away with it.
Um, the court might set them free,
but be it conscience, karma, or the universe, they are ultimately…
I firmly believe that those who commit violent crime
don't ever truly get away with it.
Um, the court might set them free,
but be it conscience, karma, or the universe, they are ultimately…
I firmly believe that those who commit violent crime
don't ever truly get away with it.
-Do you have it? -Mm.
You gonna tell me how you got a copy of Lyle Jennings's YO's file?
Two copies. And I just asked for them.
They just gave you them?
I asked in the way that you said to ask for anything.
-In the right way. -Aye?
I told them I was Moira's assistant, and she spilt coffee over her copy.
Attagirl. Okay, let's get started.
Did you know the Isle of Mhòr was once the main staging area
of all North Sea oil exploration?
I did not know that.
And that nearly a billion pounds were invested here.
-Where'd you get that from? -Wikipedia.
To have such promise taken away,
a life dangled in front of you, and then…
snatched away from your grasp at the very last minute.
That can really piss people off.
Make them do things they might not have done otherwise.
Most people don't need a good reason to be pissed off.
Take you, for example.
Oh, touché.
My wife liked to say the best answer to anger is silence.
I'd like to meet your wife.
My wife is dead.
Since when?
Since she died. Back in Syria.
-I have told you this. -I'd have remembered.
-Because you are so empathetic. -Okay, whoa.
I told you I have to watch the girls, I am responsible for them,
and sometimes I would be late or even miss work.
I believe your answer was, "I do not give a flying fuck."
Where in that sentence was I meant to infer that your wife was… dead?
You told me you came here because they needed doctors.
This is true.
She wanted our girls to study medicine like her.
But neither is very good at science.
Mina, my youngest, she wants to become a…
TikTok influencer.
How did she die?
She operated on the wrong person.
It seems like Lyle's life went right down the shitter
after his brother died.
I don't know. Have you read his psych report?
"At eight years old, Lyle Jennings was caught killing a neighbor's dog
who barked at him during a holiday parade."
"LJ was suspected in several more animal killings
but never caught and never admitted to any
during evaluation sessions."
"LJ was referred to the examiner."
Seems like Lyle was born bent the wrong way.
First time he got sent to Godhaven was for stalking a boy from school.
The kid's parents found him sleeping on the floor beside the kid's bed.
Lyle broke in during the night. He was 12.
What is that smell?
Despair.
"Lyle Jennings's mother, Ailsa Jennings,
was placed in involuntary psychiatric care for 19 months
following the death of her husband,
leaving LJ and his brother alone on the property."
Can't wait to get her file.
-Where'd you see that? -Uh, page 23.
From another evaluation.
"As punishment,
Ailsa Jennings would regularly lock Lyle and his older brother
inside the hyperbaric chamber on the Shorebird property
for long periods of time."
"LJ had no negative association with these punishments."
"Thought this was perfectly normal."
Looks like she left in a hurry.
Seems like she completely lost the plot just after Harry's death.
"According to Lyle,
Ailsa's behavior towards him following the death of his brother became worse."
"It was following a long absence from school
when the police visited the property
that they discovered what she had been doing,
and was then sectioned."
The father, Clive Jennings, died in a fire, smoking in bed.
14-year-old Lyle was the only other person home.
What, you think Lyle killed his own father at 14?
Be brilliant if he did.
Moira specifically said not to do what you are now about to do.
She said not to go in if we found Lyle,
which will be easier to accomplish if we find a fucking clue.
-So… -You'll do this without a warrant?
-Did you bring one with you? -No.
Then, yes, I'm going in without a warrant.
And without you. Keep you safe.
Shorebird Ocean Systems.
What's that?
It's the father's business. Shorebird Ocean Systems.
SOS.
Would you like me to open that for you?
-Yes, please. -Hang on.
"When he was 15,
Lyle Jennings was accused of coercing another boy
into a decompression chamber on the property."
"He then snuck out and left the boy alone in the chamber."
-Hardy-- -Wait. You have to keep reading.
"Lyle had been increasing the pressure
to see if, at some point, the boy would lose consciousness,
when the local police discovered him."
"This was not long after his mother was sectioned."
So Lyle Jennings kidnapped someone and put them inside a hyperbaric chamber?
It says coerced, not kidnapped.
It's still pretty fucking weird
he locked another kid into the place he was locked into.
Not weird.
It's pathological.
-Rose. -Are you at the Jennings's?
Why?
Lyle Jennings once locked a kid in a hyperbaric chamber for three days.
Carl.
When?
-When he was 15. -15?
It's possible he did the same to Merritt.
You looked inside the buildings and found nothing.
I only looked inside one of them.
The other was under a hazardous material directive
and was closed off.
What kind of hazardous material?
Colin just said the EA closed it off a while ago.
What's a while ago?
He didn't say.
Call him up and ask him.
How about that? I don't fucking quit, bitch.
Oh, there you are.
Yeah.
Colin said it was declared a hazmat site a little over four years ago.
That was the number he gave? Four years?
Interesting, right?
Very. Okay. Sit tight. We'll take a look around.
Uh, Carl,
he said not to enter the premises without an officer from his department.
Tell him this is a crime scene
and he can fuck an officer from his department.
I'm not telling him that.
Has he heard from his father?
No, not yet, but he's phoning him every ten minutes.
-Okay. -Uh, Carl…
is it a crime scene?
I'll let you know.
Watch out for toxic waste.
Yep.
It's okay.
What is that?
Some kind of… deep sea exploration drilling shit.
Not the drilling manifold.
That.
It's Colin Cunningham, the son.
Oh, my God.
Is this live?
I think so.
Wherever this image is coming from, it can't be far
because these antennas are not made for…
long-range distance.
Carl.
Hello, everyone. Um…
-Carl! -There's another door.
…be it conscience, karma, or the universe,
they are ultimately, one way or another, punished for what they've done.
I firmly believe that those who commit violent crime
don't ever truly get away with it.
The court might set them free,
but be it conscience, karma, or the universe, they are ultimately…
Hello?
I firmly believe that those who commit violent crime…
Hello? Hello?
Hello?
Merritt!
I firmly believe that those who commit violent crime
don't ever truly get away with it.
The court might set them free,
but be it conscience, karma, or the universe…
I knew it.
I firmly believe that those who commit violent crime
don't ever truly get away with it.
The court might set them free,
but be it conscience, karma…
How the fuck do we shut this thing down?
…punished for what they've done.
I firmly believe that those who commit violent crime don't…
Other side.
…ultimately, one way or another, punished for what they've done.
I firmly believe that those who commit violent crime…
Shit.
Um, the court might set them free,
but be it conscience, karma, or the universe,
they are ultimately, one way or another, punished for what they've done.
I firmly believe that those who--
The hyperbaric chamber will begin to heat up
as pressure increases.
At five atmospheres, or 50 meters depth,
the temperature inside the chamber…
…32 Celsius, or 90 degrees Fahrenheit.
The rule of thumb is the deeper, the hotter.
Oxygen will become denser, and it will become tougher to breathe.
A person may start to experience…
-I'm fucking looking at her. -Is she in the chamber?
We're trying to figure out how to get her out.
Don't touch anything. I need a second.
-We're not letting her die. -Do not fucking touch anything.
If you open it, you might kill her anyway.
How many atmospheres of pressure is she at?
Uh… she was six on the outside of the hyperbaric chamber downstairs,
and now it's… it's seven and a half, so the pressure's going up.
Nine atmospheres and the oxygen becomes toxic.
You need to do something.
We leave her, she'll die. We get her out, she'll die.
-What the fuck are we supposed to do? -You need to stabilize the pressure.
Once that's stable, it says that the navy or the coastguard
could get her out with a hyperbaric stretcher.
-What's that? -A portable version of the chamber.
So even if the pressure drops,
if you get her into one, you'll have a window.
-What? How long? -Maybe 15 minutes.
Fifteen, okay.
Start looking for something that controls pressure.
There are many controls for pressure.
Are they turned up? It'll look like a lever.
Jesus fucking Christ, can you turn that off?
…will begin to heat up as pressure increa--
We might have one.
Gun!
I firmly believe that those who commit violent crime
don't ever truly get away with it.
The court might set them free,
but be it conscience, karma, or the universe,
they are ultimately, one way or another, punished…
Carl!
What the fuck's happening, mate?
Hey!
Hey, arsehole!
Carl?
Fuck.
We're okay.
Oh, you bastard, you bastard.
Merritt,
I am Akram.
We're going to take you home now.
Oh, fucking hell.
Once you start, you just can't stop.
Yeah, yeah. Like crack or dry-roasted peanuts.
Oh, Jesus.
-All right, Carl? -Hey.
Well, if I'd known you did home visits…
-Shall I pee in a cup? -Only if that's where you normally do it.
-What happened to your arm? -You been shot again?
Funnily enough…
No.
It's buckshot. I'll be fine.
I'm sure you'll all read about it.
Paying me back, are we?
You saw mine. It's only fair I get to see yours.
-That's what I'm talking about. -It's actually surprisingly nice.
-It's got nothing to do with me. -Clearly.
-Carl, what the fuck happened to your arm? -I was a policeman today.
First time in a long time.
-What the fuck does that mean? -Can we do this tomorrow?
We'll have a lovely deep and meaningful. I promise. All the gory details.
Here.
Thank you.
Wimbledon's birthday?
I only meant to leave them on the doorstep.
And now it's a party.
Mm?
Oh, yeah!
Okay. In for a penny…
I just wanted to thank you in person.
I'm told you were the one to push for reopening the case,
and if you… hadn't done that, then…
It was… it was very much a team effort.
I've thanked them already.
Everyone except for Detective Morck. I was hoping he'd be here.
-You've not met him? -Not yet, but I would like to.
Detective Morck took a little time off.
Oh, how much time off?
When it comes to Carl, who can say?
All right, I understand.
I'm leaving myself. For who can say how long.
Where are you going?
I'm gonna take William home, to Mhòr.
Spend some time with my dad.
We've been talking, uh, but there's still a lot left to say.
There usually is.
Well, uh, thank you again for everything.
Good luck, Merritt. I hope you find what you're looking for on Mhòr.
Thanks very much, ladies and gentlemen. I shall see you all tomorrow.
Uh, Marjorie, would you get me the minutes?
-Okay. -Thank you.
Detective Morck.
Lord Advocate.
Did we have an appointment?
Not unless you made one.
I just wanted to tell you I'm not gonna report you
for what happened during the Graham Finch trial.
Though, obviously, I can't promise that Kirsty Atkins will be as forgiving.
-May I? -I would.
You did what any father in your position would do.
I don't think you want to be casting aspersions.
Shutting the fuck up is your best strategy right now, trust me.
You're gonna double my budget,
or more accurately, give me the money
that was originally allocated to my budget.
What else can I do for you?
I'm sure, Lord Advocate, with your weight,
you can get a deserving candidate fast-tracked to the D.I. rank.
I presume you're talking about the Syrian gentleman
whom you introduced as your bodyguard.
He's a political refugee who's here on asylum,
and loathe as I am to admit it,
he's a good copper,
better than most.
I'll see what I can do.
That would be lovely.
Thank you.
Oh, and, um…
I'm gonna need a new car.
And not some impounded piece of shit or some tired pool car.
Any particular make and model?
I don't know.
What do you drive?
A Ford Fuck Off.
-Sorry. -Hey, it's okay.
Prick.
Hardy.
When you get yourself sorted down there, I have something I'd like you to look at.
-A case? -No, a fucking hemorrhoid.
Yes, a case.
Something for me and Carl?
Something for you.
Off you go.
All my nightmares escaped my head
Bar the door, please don't let them in
You were never supposed to leave
Now my head's splitting at the seam
And I don't know if I can
Oi!
What the fuck?!
Welcome home
Here, beneath my lungs
I feel your thumbs
Press into my skin again