[rock music]
SINGER: I've looked under chairs.
I've looked under tables.
I try to find the key to 50 million fables.
They call me the seeker.
I've been searching low and high.
I won't get to get what I'm after till the day I die.
Were you a bagger, girly?
Because I was thinking you might be
a working man down on his luck.
I was thinking maybe you had a wee bit of dignity.
But if you had any dignity, you'd have
settled your debt with me, eh?
So maybe I was wrong.
Maybe you're just a low-life beggar, trying
to get something for nothing.
Huh?
Is that what you are?
Because if you're not a beggar, you're
just plain taking the fuck.
And I don't need to tell you what we do to people
that take the fuck, do I?
I don't need to tell you what our policy is, do I?
OK.
So, here's a question.
Where's my fucking money?
Nickie-- just listen, now.
I cannot pay you today.
But what I can do-- what I can do--
is arrest you on suspicion of the murder
of Kenneth Sutherland.
And you're right-- I was taking the fuck.
You're getting slow, Nickie.
Or maybe it only works some old folk and [inaudible].
Honey, these, this, um-- this one--
Uh-huh.
These sculptures, yeah?
You're doing well, aren't you?
We can't just leave this.
Relax.
They're loving it.
They don't look it.
That's how I know.
Who's that?
Harry Chambers.
Big shot in the Arts Council.
A year ago he wouldn't have given
me the steam of his shite.
Well, we've a wee bit more ambition now, haven't we?
Where are you going?
To get a drink.
Nickie, it's all right.
You worked for this.
Look-- you made all this.
So, was it because you were in so much turmoil at the time?
Is that how you came up with all these sculptures?
No.
Well, it didn't come from any kind of, uh-- angst thing.
I was more just visualizing stuff from the outside, really.
Oh, right.
I see.
You know, things I wanted around me.
I mean, I never thought it would
end up anything like this.
Ever. This is, uh--
Katrina.
She's an art student.
Hi.
Duncan's about to do his thing.
Aye.
Well, good luck with those exam things.
Thanks very much.
Well, well, well.
What a change.
Oh?
Oh, I don't know.
Suddenly you look every inch the artist.
[tapping]
Hello.
Well, first off, I want to thank you
all for, ah-- for coming here.
[applause]
Personally, I think that this is as good a first collection
as I have seen in recent years.
But we should not shy away from the circumstances
of the artist, either.
I think what this exhibition's existence proves
is that how civilized we are as a society can be measured
not only by how justly we punish,
but also by how fully we forgive.
[applause]
[clapping]
Fancy fucking words.
Craig, would you want to escort this gentleman out?
Call the police.
He is the police.
Landed on your feet, then, Nickie?
How's your cell?
Not too good, to tell you the truth.
My [inaudible] is repeating on me, what
with all this talk of forgiveness.
Now, don't get me wrong, ladies and gentlemen.
I'm all for forgiveness.
But, here's the thing.
Ah. Isn't that shocking?
How could he do that to your work of art?
Well, in 1976, your star here did exactly that
to a 60-year-old woman because her husband
owed his boss 25 pound.
Oh, yes.
I'm all for forgiveness.
May have paid your debt to these fine people, Nickie.
But your own folk have been waiting on you.
I'm sorry.
Don't be.
You love the work.
It's not you who looks at fault. So,
this Keltie-- he's the one who actually arrested you?
And you've not seen him since?
Then what's his problem?
A lot of folk got a problem with me.
Duncan wants to press charges.
I'm not pressing charges.
Come on, Nickie.
He ruined that sculpture.
I don't care.
I'm not having that stuff dug up again.
Listen, Val, all that stuff about the old woman--
that's not what happened.
I mean-- that is what happened.
But that's not the way it happened.
Oh, come on, Picasso.
Hm?
Let's go home.
What are you fucking looking at, you rod?
Do you want a 40?
[inaudible]
[whispering]
[clattering]
Who are you?
You owe me a tenner, you cunt.
Me?
Yeah, well, I'm looking at you, eh?
Now, where's my fucking tenner, huh?
What tenner?
The tenner I gave you on loan, eh?
You never lent me a tenner.
Just give me my fucking tenner, and we'll roll.
I don't have your tenner.
Are you calling me a fucking liar?
Where's my tenner, pal?
Huh?
I'll fucking knock you about, by the way, yeah?
I don't know what you're talking about.
I'll fucking knock you out.
Just give me a little tenner, you old man.
John, just give him some money.
No, I'm not.
I don't owe you any money.
Just--
I don't owe you any money.
Just get me my money, eh?
I've never met you before.
Come on.
Look, pal, I don't know what you're talking about.
All right, OK. I'm sorry.
Give me my fucking money, huh?
Just leave us alone.
Come on!
Flipper, man, come on.
Leave it.
It's not their fault.
Please!
I'm just having a laugh, like.
Fuck's sake!
Please!
Please
Hey, do you want a-fucking-nother, lad?
Does she want another?
Please!
Give us the fucking money, or she gets another!
This is all I've got, man!
This is all I've got!
That's every [inaudible] I've got, man.
That's right.
Who was that cunt, then?
The fuck did you do that for?
I was just trying something out.
And a fucking lassie?
[muffled shouting]
He's livid.
Shh.
Oh, come on, eh?
Get back to your desks.
I, the great Mysterioso, predict a new partner
in Colquhoun's life.
And good riddance to the miserable old prick.
You know he's a prick.
You said it yourself.
MAN: Come back here!
What?
Gary, what did he say?
He says we're supposed to sit by while that bunch
of toffee nosed tits make a hero out of a piece
of shite like Nickie Dryden.
Well, he may be a piece of shite,
but he's the council's golden boy.
I mean, the home office granted a big, fat check
to the rehab unit after his--
Fucking rehab?
Nickie Dryden, nothing has changed.
He's just got smart.
Write a book, marry some stuck up journalist,
suddenly he's a fucking socialite!
Can that shit.
Fuck is this?
I mean, the grumpy old cunt was getting used to having you
around.
You're a grumpy old cunt, sir.
If any nit got you talking like me, son, [inaudible]
to get educated in speaking, and that's
a fucking insult to them.
Fucking am I fucking invisible, or what?
I thought you were getting a wedding
present for your auntie?
- Ah? - No, you're not.
You're just making dinner.
How are you, Susie?
How's your mother?
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, she's a bit better, thanks.
Good.
Glad to hear it.
What the hell are you doing here?
This is police harassment, plain and simple.
Not anymore, it's not.
I've been suspended.
It'll be a lot more than that by the time
my lawyers are finished with ya.
Nice house you got, here.
Out by the water, and all.
Why are you doing this?
You've got a son, have you, now, Mrs. Dryden?
You pray every day he'll be safe.
You worry about the road, about drugs, the walking the streets
at night.
But all the time, the thing you should fear the most
is laying there in bed beside ya.
I mean, how do you do that?
Yeah?
Knowing what he did?
His business?
His so-called policy?
I mean, does that not disgust ya, eh?
As a woman-- as a mother-- I mean, how do
you put that out of your mind?
I mean, I really want to know.
Well, now, Mr. Keltie, we'll play it your way.
Just think about it, Mrs. Dryden.
You ever stop to wonder just who you've married?
You think about the policy, Mrs. Dryden!
You think about that.
Aye. Fucking come on.
All right, then, eh?
You [inaudible].
MAN: See, I-- I never understood this idea
that success was, like, vulgar.
Yeah, we seem to be touching on a recurring theme, here.
Maybe the-- the Scottish working class
obsession with the mentality of the underdog.
Aye.
Exactly.
That somehow, if you're poor, it's, like, your fate?
I mean, pardon my French, but fuck that, you know?
So, do you think these skills would have
enabled you to find success in, let's say,
a different profession?
Well, there's the thing.
I'm sure you've, uh-- you've heard lots of folks saying,
oh, so and so has the killer instinct.
And then may be talking about some stock
broker, or a businessman.
And what they mean is-- is prepared to go that one
step further than the next guy.
To be that wee bit more (ECHOING) cruel.
Well, I was like that.
I was (ECHOING) ruthless.
I had my eye on the goal, and I went for it.
I'm not very proud of it-- but that's the killer instinct.
That's what separates the wolves from the sheep in any business.
Yeah-- yeah, but you say killer instinct,
but in your business that could be literal.
NICKIE: Aye.
People die in these--
Aw, fucking yeah.
Fucking yeah, yeah.
Fucking yeah, yeah, cunt.
Fuck you, you fucking-- bastard.
[classical music]
Nickie fucking Dryden.
Patrolman. [inaudible].
Sucker!
Sloppy barstool.
Fucking whine.
Captain crap.
Oh, jailers?
Really not scared.
Been in jail more times than you.
Scum.
Scummy bastard.
MAN: Better on it, [inaudible].
Hello?
Now, are you watching now?
You put the key in.
You hold to 10.
You get 5 pounds worth on tech.
A little E comes up.
You see?
Ah.
So, what's all this about Scott?
Oh, it's just-- he says he wants to leave college,
and take a year out. Ah?
I said, a year out doing what?
He says, living.
Traveling.
Well, I think he could do this year.
I mean, he's not even giving it a chance.
You want me to talk to him?
Hm. Why not?
Val, he's not an idiot.
Let him make his own mistakes.
Well, it really worked for you, didn't it?
Scott's nothing like me.
The problem with you, Nickie, is
you want all the security of the family
without any of the responsibility.
Aye, Val.
Anything you say.
What was the policy?
What?
You had.
Who have you been talking to?
Keltie came to the house today.
Never mind that.
That cunt to the house?
Just tell me what it means.
Your policy.
You know that.
Tell me again.
When did he come to the house?
Nickie.
Val, it's in the fucking book.
No, it's not.
Well, not in so many words.
We collected debts.
Sometimes we resorted to violence.
Where it all fell down was when we
were dealing with some mad fucker with a death wish.
There was plenty of them, let me tell ya.
Instead of punishing them, we would punish
the folk closest to them.
Friends, relatives, whatever.
It was very effective.
But you know all this.
I didn't know it was a policy.
It's only a word, that's all.
Friends and relatives?
Mothers, and fathers?
And wives?
If I see that fucking Keltie, so help me Christ.
And children, too?
Nickie?
And children, too?
Everybody's somebody's bairn.
Look at you.
You're exhausted.
I hear you, wrecking about at all hours.
You're never done.
Good woman to sort you out.
That's what you need.
Well, I've got one, have I not?
Oh, there you go.
Well, I'll tell you something-- there isn't a house
big enough for two women.
I'll be all right when we get the mansion.
You can have the east wing, I'll have the west.
You and your mansion.
Well, they're taking their time with it.
That's all that gold leaf stuff, you know?
Stop changing the subject.
What about that lassie you're seeing?
Where's the picture you were gonna show me?
You know, it's around somewhere.
I'm not draft, son.
I know I'm holding you back.
A man your age shouldn't be saddled with his own mother.
You really want to see a photograph?
There.
Well, it's awfully wee.
What's her name, again?
Susan.
Susan?
Well, she's a sight better than your usual rubbish.
That's for sure.
Watch for you won't go past you, son.
Got a good price on it.
That's 2, 3, 4, 5.50.
All right?
No bother, it's only money.
Cheers.
Hey, Tony?
Don't have any other work, do you?
Like what?
I don't know.
Uh-- people owe you money, stuff like that?
Half the fucking town.
Why, you going to do something about it?
Let me tell you something.
Stick to what you're good at.
All right?
Flipper, man, come on!
Where are we going?
Shut up.
Where are we going?
Shut up, mate!
It's over here.
You don't tell a fucking soul about this place, right?
All right. All right.
Where are we going?
Fucking [inaudible].
Oh, you fucking beauty.
[splashing]
Yes!
Who gives a fucking shit?
The man should dump the cunt.
Kid's got a van, though.
Get our own van, and we're set.
Do you reckon Donnie's good for that?
Fuck Donnie, man.
He only got where he is because he's running Nickie D's boys.
Look at Dryden, man.
He didn't even work for anybody.
He set up on his own.
Aye, look at the cunt.
Oh.
Fucking [inaudible], doesn't it?
Just got your say on that, your fucking
[inaudible] down at the jail.
I know, man.
I've seen him on the telly.
He's gone straight.
Fucking [inaudible] the cunt.
You can if you're Dryden.
Aye.
Like fuck.
I was just talking to him a little before I met you.
Oh, he's a fucking excellent guy, man.
It's like, me and him, we just aren't the same, you know?
It's like he can see into my head.
You know what I mean?
And yet he'd--
Hey, you bastards!
The pool is for youth. [inaudible]!
Come on, the both of you's!
Fucking shoving--
[laughter]
You'll be soaked!
I've seen your face!
I'll have you for that!
I'll fucking have you!
Bastard!
What are you laughing at?
Huh?
Heya.
[shouting]
Fuck's sake!
Come on!
You're fucking shit up!
That's what he was saying, man.
Some students, and some fucking fat ass, hairy faced Johnny.
Who gives a fuck, man?
[groaning]
[phone ringing]
Hello?
Keltie?
Shh.
Keep your voice down.
Wouldn't want to wake your lovely lady wife,
now, would we?
Now, what's the score--
Nickie?
KELTIE: [inaudible] classier bad guys who've done twice the scum
like you.
I mean, could be the money.
Could be the fame.
But, you know what I think?
I think it's just shagging a murderer turns her on.
Fuck you. KELTIE: It's all in fun, now.
Gab on about if it's right, or if it's proper,
but then they go home to their milk sop husbands,
and dream about a real man.
Someone who--
Nickie, hang up.
Put up with her wee affairs.
Someone who'd [inaudible].
Some knuckle dragging cunt [inaudible] snatches,
or murder if need be.
What does he want, Nickie?
Why is he doing this?
Nickie, I'm scared.
Hey, Sully?
Don't touch the glass, please.
I'll see you Friday.
Aye.
Ah-- give my condolences to the happy fellow.
Why are you following me?
Huh?
Don't say you're not.
Is this something to do with Keltie?
What, the policeman?
How did you know that?
Eh?
Did he put you up to this?
What do you know about Keltie?
I-- I just read in the paper that some policeman
was giving you hassle.
Honest.
So, who are you?
Flipper.
Flipper?
What kind of fucking name's that?
And what's your game, Flipper?
I just-- I just wanted to--
You wanted to what?
I wanted to talk to you.
You wanted to talk about what?
About-- about your sculptures.
Oh, about my sculptures?
I want to buy one.
That's very nice, Flipper.
Good.
The one with the fish.
Well, that'll cost you four grand.
How do you expect to pay for it?
Pay it up off your [inaudible]?
Or maybe you're a private art collector in disguise.
[inaudible] exchange for one of them
Hockneys you've got hanging in the bogs, innit?
Soft-like in a way, yeah?
It's meant to.
Why did you make one out of fish?
Cause that's how I'm called Flipper.
Cause I swam with a fish.
Flipper's a dolphin.
Dolphins are not fish.
[bell ringing] See ya around.
I cannot afford four grand.
Maybe someday, huh?
But I could work for you.
Paying it off.
You could work for me?
Doing what?
Cash collecting.
People needing sorted.
Stuff like that.
They don't call you Flipper on account of your brain size,
do they?
No, Nickie, man.
I know the score.
Listen, pal.
Let me make it fucking plain.
I'm done with all that.
I'm done with being the headbanger's William Wallace.
OK?
Do what you want.
I'm coming, I'm coming.
Just meeting my public, you know?
Nice duds.
I knew you'd look good in a suit.
Oh, aye, your mother's going to love that.
You'll be subversive.
Come on, boys.
Come inside, now.
Come on.
Hurry up.
[music playing]
[cheering]
[music playing]
[applause]
Oh, darling.
There's my wee girl.
Daddy!
Oh, wee sister, that's the last of us.
Thank you.
Where's Nickie?
He's over there.
It's all right, Daddy.
All right, doll.
Oh, I tell you what, I'm knackered.
You're knackered?
On your honeymoon night?
You were.
Oh, come on.
We were in Inverness.
She's going to gay Paris.
[inaudible].
You'd better believe it.
You don't look much like--
Nickie?
Oh, yes.
Ladies and gentlemen.
Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry for this wee
hiatus in what must be a very joyful day for youse all.
I'll just take a few minutes of your time.
What's this about?
Who are these people?
You're the bride's father?
That's right.
Must be quite a day for you.
The day your bairn gets married.
Must set you thinking about life.
About what's passed, and what's to come.
What's going on?
I'd like to introduce youse to Becky Sutherland.
She'll not be seeing her son married.
Won't be having any grandchildren by him.
All the dreams a mother has for her son
won't be coming true for Becky.
Because 18 years ago, that man murdered him.
There's a story for all these people,
and they're not just names.
Their sentences won't end.
Ever.
The man who destroyed their lives is standing right there.
And he's a member of your family.
I wish the newlyweds all the best.
Keltie!
Keltie, you bastard!
I'm telling you, I'll kill you!
Come here, you bastard!
I'll kill you!
Fucking fight me!
I'll kill you!
Nickie!
I'll kill you!
Stop!
Don't!
Nickie!
Don't!
That's right, Nickie!
Still the same murdering animal!
You'll burn for this, Keltie!
You're finished!
I can't do my duty?
Your duty?
You ruined my sister's wedding!
You hounded her in her own house!
What kind of duty do you call that?
The duty invested in me by the state to protect
the people you were exploiting.
And terrorize them, and to leave no stone unturned
in the pursuit of the prosecution
and the punishment of men who have betrayed their country,
and their class!
You said this would only end when you walked
out your sock then, Nickie.
Yours has just begun.
Oh, god.
I'm so sorry.
Hey, Jobbie, man, come on down!
Hey, Job--
What are you doing, man?
Can you come out?
I dunno what, man. Please?
Have you gone fucking ranch?
Do you know [inaudible]?
What?
He's dead.
Fucking Johnny, man.
He died.
Fucking heart attack.
WOMAN: Who's that at the door?
Aw, please-- you gotta go.
You gotta.
[siren]
In there, sir.
[phone ringing]
[radio chatter]
Nickie?
[screaming] No!
Are you all right?
I'm doing it.
No, no.
Just-- just a minute.
Hold on.
Get up.
I'm sorry.
There you go.
[inaudible]
Keltie?
No, you're OK.
You've been asleep.
Oh, I know he's-- I know he's here.
He said he'd punish us.
He said your punishment wasn't over.
He said that just because-- he says just because--
- Nobody knows anything. - No!
I do, I do!
I know!
I know it was Keltie.
I know it was.
Don't cry.
Please.
Come on, Val.
Please.
[crying]
There you go.
[crying]
Oh, my boy!
My boy!
Shh.
Oh, what am I going to do?
What am I going to do?
He's gone!
[music playing]
I take it you heard about Dryden's stepson?
Hm.
You don't sound too upset.
There's a certain irony to it.
His mother might disagree.
Well, nobody forced her up the aisle.
Well, I guess she thought he must have
been given a second chance.
To forgive is divine, and all that?
Easy said when you've nothing to forgive.
So, what have you got to forgive, then, eh?
Me?
Nothing.
Come on, Gary, he must have done something to you?
You'd understand, eh?
Blessed are the meek, eh?
Never mind you broke your back for a bus pass,
and 60 pound a week.
You cannot pay your bills?
We'll have an auction in your fucking house.
Cannot pay for your house?
We'll just take the fucker back.
Never mind your MPs are bent, and your judges are drunks.
Your national heroes are junkies,
and whores, and traitors.
Just keep your head down, and you'll
get your reward in Heaven.
What are you saying?
I'm saying we were supposed to protect the people.
They were counting on us, and we failed them.
We failed them, Colquhoun.
And we were all they fucking had.
MAN: All right, James, you've got a few minutes to cool off,
and do what you have to do.
Where were you the night of the murder, Gary?
Christ, Val.
Listen to what you're saying, here.
What would you have me do, eh?
You don't have to do anything.
If Keltie's involved, I promise he'll go to jail.
Oh, you're kidding.
Pigs don't send other pigs to prison.
You've said so yourself.
You're not thinking straight.
Nobody is.
So, you'll do it for money, you're thinking straight.
Do it to protect your family, and you're insane.
Do it for a few pounds, and that's good business.
But it was your business that got us into this.
It was your sordid fucking business that got Scott killed.
All right, Nickie.
That's enough.
Funny.
You hardly ever see the wee ones these days.
You know, the sparrows.
It's all just pigeons.
Well, you know why that is, don't you?
No, why's that?
They're all doing the mansion.
I'm telling you, that's the place to be.
I don't need any mansion, son.
Somewhere with a wee bit of garden.
That'd do me.
I think I'm going to build a mansion with a wee
bit garden in the back.
We're talking grounds, here.
Lawns.
All nice and tidy, and stretch out for miles.
Like hedges, all cut into shapes, and that.
Pretty flowers.
Any-- [inaudible].
Ah, you should smell them.
Every type of flower that grows.
What about trees, and all?
Every type of tree that grows.
So, who's going to clean all these hundreds of rooms?
Wouldn't even matter, cause once one got dirty,
you'd just move into another.
[laughter]
I would see you tied to the ground.
You'd like to live that that.
Christ, Nickie.
I'd like to help.
But doing a pig?
And to be honest, for the sake of a few spoiled parties.
It's not just that.
My wife's son-- my stepson-- he was, uh--
Aye.
I heard about that.
You think Keltie did it?
All I know is my wife's son's dead,
and this cunt-- this cunt-- came to the funeral just to gloat.
And I cannot have that.
No.
Here.
Come and see this.
Come on.
Oh my god. Look at this.
It's good to have you back, Nickie.
I'm not back, though.
I just need your help.
Have to use somebody [inaudible] form.
Make it look like a mugging.
[knocking]
All right.
Here's a sketch.
This is the guy's address.
Don't speak other than to make sure it's him.
Put the cunt down, break a few rubs, but don't go mad.
Go through his pockets and take anything valuable.
Watch, money, credit cards-- anything.
This is something I'm sorting for an old pal, so no fuck ups.
All right?
Your man's name is Keltie.
Keltie?
And here's the good part-- he's a policeman.
[sigh] - I can't believe it.
Christ Almighty God.
What is it with you and this key thing?
If I've told you once, I've told you 100 times,
you put the key in, you hold it in,
and then the wee thing comes up.
I mean, it's not as if it's rocket sci-- Oh, no.
Oh, no.
Mom!
Oh, Jesus Christ.
Mom?
No, Mom!
Oh, no!
Oh, no, Mom!
Oh, Christ.
NICKIE: Oh, Christ.
Come on.
The room's bare, and no-one will bother you, Val.
I promise you.
Please.
Let your--
[heavy footsteps]
Let's me away to this tattoo thing.
Cannot be bothered, really.
All this VIP stuff.
What time are you here till?
About nine.
About nine, hm?
We can stay later.
No, no, it's fine.
I think we'll be out by nine-ish.
No.
I'll be fine.
I mean, I can stay if you want.
I don't have to--
Nickie.
I'll be fine.
I have to do it some time.
I think what she needs is an early night.
She's taken her pill.
The invitation.
Oh, aye.
Right.
How is she?
Well, she's not doing the gay fucking gardens, is she?
Don't jump to conclusions about who's responsible.
Dryden's all through this like a stick of fucking Castle Rock.
Cause he thinks you murdered the boy?
Well, he's in good company, then, eh?
Even so, I mean, why your mother?
Why not you?
Policy.
Mr. Keltie, would you like to see her for a minute?
Uh, yes.
Yes.
[oxygen pumping]
Mr. Keltie?
[inaudible].
Where are you going?
Ah-- no, you're all right, son.
Just, uh-- I'm just, uh, going for a wee walk.
Yeah, I'm not gonna-- I'm not gonna walk out on her, am I?
Well, do you want me to come with you, then?
No.
Thanks.
Nickie!
It's me.
Flipper, man.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
No, Nickie, I've done the job, man.
Good for you.
I've done it, man!
Listen, I'm not in the mood.
I'm not in the fucking mood, OK?
Nickie, man, I've done killing for you.
Tony asked me to do that job for you, on the policeman.
Keltie.
Fucking mental, huh?
Can you believe it, when [inaudible]?
Cause I know that you--
Hey, shut up!
Just explain this to me.
Tony hired you?
Aye He comes in yesterday, says he's got this job need
doing for a pal of his, right?
And he says the guy's name is Keltie, and I knew it.
I just knew it was you.
He didn't say that, but, you know, with you making
that fish thing, and-- and--
Have you told anybody else this?
No, not anybody.
Right.
It's fucking mad, man.
The way-- I mean, it's like, it's all meant to happen, yeah?
So, what did you do?
Oh, I fucked the cunt, man.
Sweet eyes.
Well, you just gave him a doing, right?
Oh, it was fucking better than that, man.
Look.
Because, like, when I'm in a job, I always think,
like, uh, what would Nickie do, eh?
What would Nickie D do, man?
And then I see's I've got an in.
And it was like, fucking yes.
It's like you said, man, it's what sets us apart, you know?
What is this?
The cunt stays with his old lady, see?
Keltie's ma?
- It's your policy. - You did Keltie's ma?
Is that what you're fucking telling me?
I thought that--
You thought what?
You thought I wanted you to do his ma?
You silly fucking cunt!
Fuck!
Nickie, man, the--
Fuck!
Fuck, man, I'm sorry!
Fuck!
Jesus!
Nickie!
I can do the pig for you!
I know, man!
Whatever you want!
I'll tell you what I want!
For you to get the fuck out of my sight!
Nickie, man! I need to talk to you!
Get away from me, you fucking--
Nickie, talk to me!
Can't you see I'm the same as you?
I'm fucking warning you!
He [inaudible]!
He was just lucky!
I think--
[grunting]
[crunching]
Now look what you've made me do.
Come on.
Up you come. You're fine.
Up.
There we are.
See, you shouldn't have hung onto me.
You brought it on yourself. There we go.
There we are.
Look-- there.
Easy, easy.
There you go.
There.
There you go, all right.
There we go. See?
You're OK, pal.
All right.
Here we go.
Look, look.
There you go.
That's a boy.
There.
You're going to be just dandy.
That's a boy.
Oh, Jesus.
Oh my god.
Eh, you're all right.
You're game, aren't ya?
You're a good boy.
There, you-- you hang in there, OK?
That's it.
Yeah.
That's my boy.
There you go.
Yeah?
There you go.
You stay there, pal.
Hey.
Stay with me, son.
Come on.
Stay here.
Oh, Jesus.
Oh, God Almighty.
Please, son.
Come on, son.
Please.
Stay here.
I don't believe it.
Oh, fuck, I don't believe this.
Come on, come on.
I don't fucking believe it.
This cannot be happening.
I don't believe it.
It's not happening.
Oh, god.
[phone ringing]
Sorry I'm late.
Yes, sir?
If you head upstairs to the left--
Ah!
Scream, and it's the last sound you'll ever make.
[music playing]
Straight through.
Will your, ah, wife be joining you?
No.
No, she won't.
Yeah, just isn't the same without her.
Thanks.
Would you care for a drink?
Uh-- whiskey, please.
Straight.
OK. [inaudible]
Tell me where he is!
[groaning]
I don't know.
Don't fucking lie to me!
I'm not lying.
I don't know.
I don't know!
He went--
Mrs. Dryden, your husband as good as
had somebody killed last night.
A 70-year-old woman.
Battered and slashed to death.
Now, this is the kind of man you are protecting,
so one way or another, you are going
to tell me where he fucking is!
[music playing]
The gallery.
He went to the gallery.
No.
I don't think so.
You see, I know your type, so he's not at the gallery.
So, we are going to try again.
We are going to try--
[shouting]
No!
[shouting]
Just tell me where he is, and I'll be gone.
You'll never see me again.
You have my word on that.
The word of the bastard that killed my son?
I never killed your fucking son!
No, you don't have the fucking guts!
But you know who did.
I'm a policeman, Mrs. Dryden.
I spent my life trying to uphold the law.
Killing doesn't take guts!
Trying to be decent, trying to live a decent life--
that's what takes guts.
Keep away from me.
Keep away!
Oh, that wouldn't interest you, though, would it, now?
Your decency.
Yeah, where's the challenge in that?
Well, it's all right for a while.
You know-- after a while, when you're bored with it,
then what?
What's left to find in a good man?
A good man?
Nothing but disappointment.
Is that you, Keltie?
A good man?
Is that what a good man does?
I'm sure you'll find out, you-- Forgive me!
No!
Just tell me where he is!
No!
Just tell me where he is!
No!
Help!
Somebody help!
Just tell me--
No!
Tell me where he is.
No!
Just tell me where he is. No.
Shh.
I can't--
Just tell me where he is.
Tell me-- tell me where he is.
Tell me where he is!
[crying] Tell me.
Don't [inaudible].
Please don't.
Don't-- Please.
Please don't.
Oh, no-- don't--
Just--
Don't!
Help!
No!
Shh.
No!
Shh.
[crying]
[moaning]
[whimpering]
This-- this is where he is.
The fucking tattoo.
Aw, jeez, why the fuck didn't you tell me?
Why the fuck didn't you fucking tell me?
[music playing]
NICKIE (VOICEOVER): You did Keltie's ma?
FLIPPER (VOICEOVER): It's the policy.
VAL (VOICEOVER): What was the policy?
NICKIE (VOICEOVER): That cunt came to the house?
KELTIE (VOICEOVER): You sentenced
[inaudible] when you walked out of the shark pen, Nickie!
WOMAN (VOICEOVERS): Mothers, fathers, and wives.
KELTIE (VOICEOVER): Yours has just begun!
[music playing]
[beeping]
Police?
[beeping]
Oh my god!
Yes, yes, please!
They're going to kill my--
[beeping]
Yes, yes, please. Please, do something.
Please.
You've got to stop him!
He's going to kill-- Nickie!
Time to settle up.
Oh, Christ.
Get on your feet, you murderin' bastard.
Look, Keltie, that thing that happened to your mother--
I didn't want it to happen.
It was-- I swear, it was supposed to be you.
Well, it wasn't me, was it?
Well, it was for you.
And even worse for your wife.
What do you mean, my wife?
You took from me.
I took from you.
Now we're back where we started.
Two guys with fuck all.
You're done, Keltie.
Your wee dream's over, Nickie.
You've lost her.
All she'll see when she looks at you
is fear, and pain, and loss.
All she'll see is me.
Me, and what we did tonight.
You're lying.
You're a fucking liar.
I know you.
You're all bluff.
Why don't you take a look at what's sticking in your ribs?
Ah!
Where did you get this?
Where do you think?
You liar!
You lying, fucking pig bastard!
Tell me you're lying!
Tell me you're fucking lying!
We can walk away from this.
Go on with our lives.
Get it through your head, Nickie.
Your life has gone.
My life has gone.
20 fucking years, gone.
There's nothing fucking left!
Why, Keltie?
Why did this have to happen?
[gasping]
ANNOUNCER: Welcome the Braves!
[music playing]
[fireworks bursting]
Now, ladies and gentlemen, please--
ladies and gentlemen of the press, my client will not
answer individual questions.
I have here a prepared statement.
Thank you.
Obviously we are pleased that the jury
has seen fit to acquit my client of the murder of Mr. Gary
Keltie.
Mr. Keltie pursued a merciless vendetta against Mr. Dryden,
which has destroyed his marriage,
tarnished his reputation, and left him
in a state of near disability.
So we praise this verdict, which could so easily have
been derailed by prejudice.
Up until this point-- - Val!
Wait!
There has been some speculation within the--
Val!
I have to go.
Just wait!
Please!
She's got nothing to say to you!
What the fuck does it have to do with you?
I'm not scared of you, Dryden.
I just want to talk. Come on.
- Please, this isn't the place. - Come on.
When?
Where?
I don't even know where you are.
Let's move.
Don't let this happen.
He's won if you let it happen.
Why am I being punished for this?
You're not.
Well, that's how it feels to me!
That's what it feels like!
Please, Mr. Dryen.
[papparazi chattering]
You've heard my statement.
I've got nothing else to say.
Please, Mr. Dryden, just a couple of minutes of your time!
Mr. Dryden.
I'm sorry, but it's just that-- could you-- It's a great book.
I've read it twice, now.
That's just brilliant.
Thanks.
Congratulations on the verdict.
All right, then.
Just put it down in here.
There.
That's a bit better.
Well, that's a garden if I've ever seen one.
This is the en suite bathroom over here.
But I presume Mrs. Keltie will need, uh,
assistance with bathing, so there
will be two nurses coming in.
One in the morning, and, uh, one at nighttime.
Could I have a word?
[music playing]