Outlaws and Angels Doctors

MUSIC: "Spooky" by Dusty Springfield

I won't be needing those.

That belongs in the library.

Changed my life, that book. You should read it.

Just because you've got a soul-destroying job

doesn't mean you haven't got a soul.

Your spiritual essence has been floating around the cosmos

for billions of years.

I know - pretty mind-blowing.

Load of rubbish!

Not turning into a bleeding-heart liberal, are you?

Apparently restorative justice gives equal weight

to the perpetrator as the victim.

That's just it. Why should the criminal have the same rights?

He sacrificed his rights as soon as he broke into your home.

Only he didn't - because the great British justice system

is more concerned for the criminal than the victim.

-So is that a yes, then?

-Hm?

To my leave request?

Yes.

If you think it's going to help.

You've changed your tune.

Well, I saw the mediator last week

and she thinks it may give me...closure.

It would be nice to think so.

Only, don't expect too much. That way you won't be disappointed.

Waiting for a parcel in palatial splendour?

"Yeah, that'll be 150 quid, please, mate."

Jack, just remember the client's instructions - touch nothing.

Im, you'd be like a pig in poo here.

Loads of objets d'art,

paintings, sculptures...

Hold on.

I'm texting you a bit of retro pseudo-postmodernism.

Or is it post-postmodernism?

'Do you even know what that means?'

I know what I like.

Do not leave so much as a fingerprint.

I mean it. If you do a good job of this,

then he could be a returning customer.

I am the invisible man.

All right, later then.

OH, Denise, how are you keeping?

Not so good, Karen.

Emphysema, angina - got the Grim Reaper breathing down my neck.

Oh, tell him to clear off!

I don't fear death. It only brings me closer to Mickey.

You've coped ever so well.

He's up there, somewhere, looking out for me.

He's been trying to get in touch.

That's what they say.

"They"?

I've been speaking to a psychic.

She says there's something unresolved -

something Mickey's desperate to tell me.

Oh, Denise. It's an 0900 number.

I'm all set up now, for the seance.

But I could do with someone else.

You mean me?

How are you fixed this evening?

Not tonight. I promised Rob...

I haven't got your mobile number.

The thing is,

I don't really go in for the occult.

Mrs Forster?

Now then, she will scare away the Grim Reaper.

He's been in there for over an hour.

The house is registered to a Dr Lionel Meecher.

A founder member of the Church of Cosmic Enlightenment, or something.

Hold on.

I'll call you back.

MUSIC: "Spooky" by Dusty Springfield

# In the cool of the evening

# When everything is getting kind of groovy

# You call me up and ask me

# Would I like to go with you and see a movie?

# First I say no I've got some plans for tonight

# And then I stop. #

MUSIC: "Smooth Criminal" by Michael Jackson

MUSIC STOPS

MUSIC PLAYS Cha'mone!

I've added a few more questions to the list.

Are these questions or statements?

They're questions, aren't they?

Rather closed ones.

They could seem like value judgments,

and we want to avoid that.

So there are no unsuitable answers, only unsuitable questions?

I just want to make sure that you get the answers you're looking for.

You seem a bit on edge.

It was all a bit abstract before,

and now I know it's really happening.

That's perfectly normal.

But if you're uncomfortable, having second thoughts...

No, it's fine. I'm ready...

whenever he is.

ALARM BUZZES

OK, bye.

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

Erm...

Hello, Mickey?

Mickey just rang.

Mickey?

Erm... Denise's dead son.

You just spoke to Denise's dead son?

Well, no. He breathed down the phone at me, then he hung up.

Maybe she knows more than one Mickey.

Or maybe she gave his phone to a friendly...

pervert.

Why would she do that?

I Don't know, Mum. Why don't you ask her?

DOOR OPENS

DOOR CLOSES

Ryan?

You've shot up a bit!

I remember you running round in nappies.

I thought you were still...

I've paid my debt to society.

More than can be said for your son.

Mickey's dead.

So they say.

I wanted to see his death certificate, all the same.

I told him that Harley was a death trap.

Very inconsiderate.

I'd like you to leave now. Before I...

I could've snitched on Mickey, slashed my sentence.

But I didn't. You know why?

He said the money was all mine.

Said he'd hidden it -

somewhere safe.

Only he refused to tell me where.

That was his insurance policy.

Mickey was a good boy.

Not around Securicor vans, he wasn't.

If the driver had pulled off his balaclava and not mine,

he'd be safely locked up.

He never had any money.

He adored you, didn't he?

Yes.

Yes, he did.

Told you everything.

And now...

you're going to tell me.

This must be where the guv'nor hosts his cheese and wine parties.

Please, take a seat.

Thanks for joining us, Mr Brown.

Dr Carter has every hope that this will be really positive.

I'm sure you feel the same way.

Absolutely.

100%

And can I just say

that I'm sorry for all the hurt and grief that I've caused.

I wish I could press "rewind" and undo all the bad things I've done.

I know that coming here can't have been easy for you.

So, thanks. It means a lot.

Just tell me where it is!

You expect me to believe that Mickey had a fortune squirreled away?

He still used to ask for pocket money!

Yes, cos he buried it -

knew I'd kill him if he touched a single note.

Where did he bury it?

-Think !

-How would I know?

I wasn't a mind reader then, and I'm certainly not one...

Of course...

we could always ask Mickey himself.

A psychic told me that his spirit is trying to break through,

convey some sort of message.

You shouldn't mess about with that stuff.

It sends harmful vibrations into the spirit realm.

Since when are you the Dalai Lama?

That's not Buddhism. I belong to the Church of Cosmic Enlightenment.

Oh, yes?

And what have they got to say about illegal firearms?

Got special dispensation. Sometimes the ends justify the means.

What are you doing?

I need to run this by my spiritual advisor!

No.

Oh, no. No!

Oh!

Denise! It's Karen from the surgery.

You forgot your phone.

You didn't call it earlier, did you, from Mickey's old phone?

No.

It's weird, cos forget about that seance -

you've got a hotline to the hereafter right there.

Oh, hello. I don't think we've...

I'm an old friend of Mickey's. The kettle's just boiled.

-Why don't you join us?

-No, thank you...

No, really... I insist.

OK! Lovely.

We could do with someone else - to make up the numbers.

A seance? No, thanks.

Three's a crowd and all that - four if you count Mickey.

I'd ruin it. Best be making tracks.

No-one's going anywhere.

You'd better hope this works.

No, you don't. Give me that.

Best try to set the scene.

A few joss sticks, candles. See what you can do.

KNOCK AT DOOR

You've no idea how pleased I am to see you.

Cheers.

Don't be a stranger!

VASE SMASHES

How are you feeling? Are your injuries, OK?

They're not too bad, thanks.

It only hurts when I laugh.

Which isn't too often in here.

It's a shame you're not a footballer instead.

Sorry?

You gave me a real hammering with the cricket bat.

Is anybody there?

Mickey? Can you hear me, love?

It's me, Mum.

I miss you so much, sweetheart.

Can't bring myself to pack away your things.

Your room's just as you left it.

Apart from those magazines.

A-hem!

I think there's something you want to tell me, isn't there?

I can sense your presence.

Give me a sign.

SHE SNEEZES

I'm so sorry! The joss sticks are playing havoc with my sinuses.

Jack - please, tell me that you haven't broken anything.

I broke something. A vase.

Urgh! I could've trained a chimpanzee to do this job!

I just hope that they don't sue us.

For someone who's supposed to be clever, you are a right dufus,

you know that?!

'Lift going down.'

All right? Where's your mum?

Mrs Forster's.

She's not answering her phone.

She bends my ear about late-night shopping, then goes AWOL.

Don't expect me to push the trolley.

I need to sort out Jack's latest disaster.

Mickey, an old friend of yours is here.

Mrs Holroyd's boy, Ryan.

Remember that time on your 13th birthday?

He almost blinded me with a paper spitball.

Terrible acne.

That's all cleared up now.

Mickey, he says that you need to tell him something.

You need to tell us where you hid the money.

SHE SIGHS

I don't know... The atmosphere can't be right.

The supernatural frequencies are blocked.

Maybe it's your satellite dish mucking up the reception.

You both need to try harder!

Or I'll send your spiritual essence towards its next manifestation.

Maybe it's because there's a non-believer present!

Yeah. I'll get my coat, shall I?

So you're a sceptic?

No, no.

I'm a good C of E girl.

Admittedly, not a regular churchgoer...

You believe in a life after this one?

You believe that death is not the end?

Yeah, totally.

Then say it.

I am sure that there is life after this one,

and that death is not the end.

OK, good. Now get on with the seance.

It's affected me in ways that I would never have imagined.

I have this constant...

unshakeable anger.

And I can't believe that a total stranger would make me feel so...

unlike me.

Yeah. I can understand that.

Can you?

Yeah.

I mean, you're a proper gent, aren't you?

You sort of know how to keep everything buttoned up.

Buy you see, in here,

the guys are animals.

They can't control their instincts.

Violent instincts.

But for your sort, you keep that violence buried deep.

So when a scumbag like me

gives you a chance to feel that deep, primal rage,

I bet it takes you by surprise.

It's moving!

Just keep one finger on the planchette.

Let it move of its own accord.

-"Mickey", it spells "Mickey"!

-He was here all along!

We need to find the folding stuff, Mickey.

Can you tell us where you hid it?

Veg?!

Veg?!

Mickey, what do you mean by "veg"?

I can feel his absence.

So, what does he mean?

He grew his own veg.

At the allotment.

Get in. You drive.

And you - in the front.

MUSIC: "More Than A Feeling" by Boston

My nan. She was the only one that believed in me.

And the worst of it is, I've let her down.

Even she's ashamed of me now.

And who can blame her?

Good, OK.

Heston, is there anything else you'd like to discuss?

Absolutely.

This is it.

Mickey's patch.

You - start digging.

I can understand theft...

the pilfering of valuable items,

but the pointless vandalism

and destruction...

Like I said, I don't know what I was thinking.

-The animal in me took over.

-An animal wouldn't behave like that.

You had nothing to gain by slashing my paintings,

and emptying my bottles of vintage wine.

And you did it, what, out of envy, spite?

Curtis?

I don't know.

I have had enough of this.

Oh!

Oh, hello.

Pull it out - quick!

All right. I wouldn't want you to break a sweat(!)

Stop! You are going to regret that.

Ooh!

That's for the spitball!

You've knocked him out cold!

Fancy a trip to Vegas?

The model ship that you smashed.

A gift from my late father,

one of the most treasured mementoes I have,

ruined in a moment of futile violence.

-And the photo album...

-OK, Heston, I think you've made your point.

..of my son's childhood, also ruined!

Not to mention the very choice fine wines,

carefully selected over two decades.

You mentioned those.

-What?!

-Your "very choice fine wines".

Watch out.

That's my heart bleeding for you on the table(!)

Poor little rich man(!)

Even your girlfriend picked on you, didn't she?

I suggest we wrap things up now.

You bang on about all this sentimental stuff,

when really, what riles you,

is the knowledge that a low-life, like me,

can come into your precious fortress and mess up your stuff!

Trinkets and charms - they make you know how special you are, innit?

How much better you are than the rest of us.

You, sir, make me sick.

I promised the money to my church.

We were hoping to set up a new centre in Sutton Coldfield.

Oh yeah, your mate Dr Meecher.

In a former life, he was Gary Paterson,

twice convicted for mail fraud.

He was more interested in large cash donations

than spiritual enlightenment.

You're lying, aren't you?

You want to pray that the judge takes pity on you.

If you get a good lawyer, you might get out in four years.

Where was my knight in shining armour when I actually needed him?

If you will insist on being abducted by gun-toting criminals,

there's only so much I can do.

Is that all the thanks I get?

-For what?

-Doing your flipping job for you!

You were OK, I suppose.

But then again, you did learn from the best.

Yeah, right(!)

This will to take me quite a while to live down. Thanks(!)

See you back at the ranch, Inspector Hollins!

"There are more things in heaven and earth..."

Not half!

Hey, maybe you could put me in touch with a few of my dead relatives?

I've got a few things to ask.

My Great Aunt Ethel had a bone china tea service.

Where's that, for a start?

I moved it.

-Eh?

-I moved the planchette.

It wasn't Mickey.

So, you knew where the money was all along?

No. I didn't.

Just before Mickey died,

he came out of the coma.

He couldn't speak properly.

He kept making this noise.

It sounded like "Reg", or "veg".

I didn't know what he was getting at.

But during the seance, I finally realised what he'd meant.

And why he'd said it.

I so wanted to speak to him!

Oh, but he did speak to you.

He must've known that lunatic would pay a visit,

and more than anything, he wanted you to be OK.

He was no angel.

I know.

But he's with the angels now.

Best to leave him up there, eh?

Come on, I'll take you home.

I only apologised to lop some time off my sentence.

Oh, come on!

You looked me in the eye,

and lied to me, all afternoon?

Yeah, but now I know what a smug, pompous git you are,

I'd rather keep my dignity.

Dignity?! Is this some kind of joke?

I think we're done.

How are you feeling, Mandy?

Fine, thank you.

-If you want to talk...

-I don't. Thank you.

Flu.

Nerves.

My health is my responsibility

and everything else

is none of your business.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd