Episode 1 The Field of Blood

This programme contains some strong language.

This programme contains some scenes which some viewers may find upsetting.

Brian! Watch what you're doing with that stick!

Anyway, um, what was I saying? Oh, aye.

She's got some nerve, honestly.

She says, "I'm no' havin' that! You cannae speak to me like that."

I says, "Like what?"

Brian?!

Oh, where did he go?

Did you see where he went?

Brian?!

Brian!

Boys, did you see my Brian?

ALL: No.

The wee boy with the blonde hair. He was playing there a minute ago.

No, sorry.

Brian!

Brian!

BRIAN!

BRIAN!

CLOCK TICKS

Shoes! Where's my black shoes?

Watch my folder!

I said watch, will you!

Don't know why you keep all that stuff.

You'll never a journalist.

-I'm no' being horrible.

-Aye, you are.

Let's get downstairs, they'll be wondering where we are.

Are you all right, there?

It's Calum, isn't it? Danny's Calum?

You looking at Granny Jenny's crucifix?

You know what Jesus's last words to his favourite disciple were, don't you?

"I can see your hoose from here."

You should keep it.

I'm sure Granny Jenny would want you to have it.

Hey, Paddy. You seen my Calum? Time I got him back to his mum's.

-Yeah, he's upstairs. I'd give him a minute.

-Right.

How's my wee cousin? I hear you're a journalist now.

Oh, not quite. A copy boy.

-That's good enough for me.

-I run the messages for the real journalists...

-but maybe one day.

-Aye, we've all got our dreams.

I need a drink.

Mum, how are you doing?

Grand.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

Thanks, Sean. Thanks.

Could you not have found something else to wear?

Hope you're not wearing that when the Pope comes to Bellahouston Park.

How could you? Honestly. As if I haven't got enough to cope with today.

It's the only dark jacket I've got.

Where's you sister, what's she wearing?

Never mind, she's just upset.

Thanks for sticking up for me. I've got to get to work.

# ..that you haven't shown

# So keep on moving Moving, moving your feet

# Keep on shuf-shuf-shuffling to this ghost dance beat

# Just keep on walking down never-ending streets

# One day you'll walk right out of this life

# And then you'll wonder why you didn't try

# To spread some loving all around

# Old fashioned causes like that still stand

# Gotta rid this prejudice that ties you down

# How do you feel at the end of the day?

# Just like you've walked over your own grave?

# So why are you frightened Can't you see that it's you?

# At the moment there's nothing So there's nothing to lose

# Lift up your lonely heart and walk right on through. #

MEEHAN!

-Devlin's been shouting you...go, go!

-What's happened?

-Haven't you heard?

-They found the Wilcox boy.

-MEEHAN!

MEEHAN!

-Where in the name of fuck have you been?

-Sorry. Just buried my Granny.

Yeah?

Well, I'll bury you in a minute.

Get me all we have on missing kids found by rivers, canals, mud flats. That type of thing.

-Is he alive?

-Eh?

-Did they find him alive?

Wouldn't be much of a story if they had, would it?

And the Moors murderers, get me everything we've got on those fuckers.

I said pronto, Tonto!

Thanks.

Fourteen quid! From what they're paying you. Taxes.

-Is that true?

-And a fifth.

Found him by the canal.

My man says they've got a witness and chances are, they'll pick him up tonight...

You call me when you can commit, all right?

You two make some calls.

Can I help you?

Is that where they found him, then? In the canal?

You don't need to know that, you're just the tart that makes coffee.

Make mine Irish, will you? That shouldn't be too hard for you.

And this Dempsie case is not relevant. They got the guy who did that. Bin it.

God, he looks like Brian Wilcox.

MEEHAN! Get your arse in here!

Just ignore them. They're a bunch of arseholes.

Flirt, that's what I do.

Give them a semi and they're putty in your hands.

That wouldn't work for me. I couldn't give them a semi-colon, let alone anything else.

That's not true, Paddy, you're cute. How's your diet going, anyway?

It's OK.

It's very scientific.

They worked out that eggs, grapefruit and black coffee

builds up this chemical reaction that will actually burns off fat at a rate of six pounds a week.

So how much you lost?

I'm actually getting fatter.

It's this place, them.

They make you want to eat.

I'm going to London as soon as I can.

-What time do you finish work?

-Er, seven. Why?

I've been invited out in the call car...want to come?

The call car? How did you manage to wangle that?

George McVie said I could tag along.

I'm going to write a piece on him in my poly paper.

But...I need some moral support. He's a right letch.

-Yeah, all right then.

-HEATHER!

We're meeting at the back of the press bar at eight. See you then.

Yeah.

Let me know when he's in custody,

and I'll make sure there's a large whisky waiting for you at the press bar.

Strangled and left at the canal. Happy?

-No.

-You should be, he's just put 100,000 on our circulation.

It's not essential to lose your humanity, but it does help.

-They know who did it?

-Picking up a ten-year-old boy, apparently.

-Where's that canal?

-From Langhill to the canal? That's a bus or a train.

Are you naturally irritating, Meehan, or do you work at it, eh?

-That's complicated for a ten-year-old.

-Do I look like I'm going to chat?

It's not a cocktail party, you get back in your hole.

Me and Heather Allen are going out in the call car tonight with McVie...is that OK?

Just for a few hours, like work experience.

Oh, aye? Well, I'd keep your hand on your chuff if I were you.

Square it with Father Richards first, I don't want you pissing off the unions.

OK, boss.

Come here.

Do me a favour. You let me know if he's drinking, all right?

-McVie, that is.

-Yeah.

He said yes!

FAINT MUSIC

MUSIC AND CHATTER

Ah, here she is, straight from the Union of Catholic Mothers.

Me and Heather's going out in the call car, is that OK?

Why would the union bother about McVie trying to ride two birds at once?

THEY LAUGH

But I'm surprised at you... I thought you're saving yourself till your married.

-What's it to you?

-If you do shag him,

make sure he gets off at Paisley Gilmore Street. Know what I mean?

-You don't want any wee Meehans kicking about, do you?

-Leave her alone.

So I can go, then?

Please yourself. But if you were my daughter, I'd say no.

-Who's the fat lass?

-The copy boy.

Hurry up, Paddy.

She's not coming.

-What d'you mean?

-She's not coming, I'm not a baby sitter.

-Is both of us or nothing.

-And Devlin said for me to come.

Don't talk over the radio and stay in the car.

Right, want to see what this shitty town's all about?

-Jump in the front with me.

-I'm all right in the back with Paddy, thanks.

Here's how it works. This radio is tuned to the police frequency.

So we'll know when the good people of Glasgow start killing each other, same time as the cops.

In some instances, we arrive at the scene before they do.

So with a bit of luck, a quarter of the newspaper will be filled with stories from this car.

RADIO STATIC

That's if some little bastard hasn't snapped the aerial in half...

-'630 to Longeaton...'

-Right.

OK.

Sit back and enjoy the ride, ladies.

Anybody want chips and cheese?

What's your name, anyhow? Meickle?

Meehan. Paddy Meehan.

Are you winding me up? Paddy Meehan? As in the real Paddy Meehan?

I AM the real Paddy Meehan.

Who's the other Paddy Meehan?

Ha! And you want to be a journalist?

-He was a spy.

-Spy, my arse.

He was a hood from the Gorbals that got what was coming to him.

He was framed for a murder by MI5, to discredit him.

That case was a miscarriage of justice if ever there was one.

-And Ludovic Kennedy proved it.

-Ludovic Kennedy, is it?

Is it posh journalist you want to be?

If only life was so glamorous.

-How d'you know all this stuff, anyway?

-Just read about it...

cos we had the same name.

Well, I'd change my name if I was you.

Right, there's F-all coming out of this radio. We'll check the cop shop.

Ludovic fuckin' Kennedy.

Right, stay in the car.

He's a torn-face misery.

Bugger this.

What're you doing?

Hey, Donny, what's new?

Nothing much, George. Just a couple of suicides.

A schoolgirl found in the Clyde...

failed her mock O grades, apparently. Let's see...

a guy hanged himself in the East End.

-Whereabouts in the East End?

-Carridale Street. Not long ago.

-Hung himself from a lamppost.

-Is he still there?

Christ, what do you think we've been doing with him, playing pin the tail on the donkey?

I told you to stay in the car.

The girl who failed her exams sounds like a good story.

You could a do piece on the pressures of being a teenager in the '80s.

Could I? Really? Shut up!

-Boy's name?

-Eddie McKinley.

He didn't live there, did it outside his girlfriend's house.

-McVie?

-Girlfriend's name?

-Er, Penny Telfer.

-McVie, he's here!

-Are you deaf as well as stupid?

-He's here, isn't he?

-Who's here?

-The boy in the Brian Wilcox case.

There's no boy here. You're getting confused, hen.

I just saw a boy. Right there!

He bloody is, don't deny it.

Hey! I'm not answering that on the record.

Well, what's the charge?

Murder.

-And the boy's name?

-I can't do that, George.

What's the family like? Give us something, Donny.

-I've given you plenty.

-Come on, Donny!

He's from the Southside, OK?

That's it.

Good man, Donny, good man. Come on, you.

How old is he? What did he look like?

Er, he's ten. But I only saw the back of his head.

Well, how do you know he's ten?

Devlin told me.

-Devlin?

-Think the men behind it are here as well?

No, if there was an adult involved,

they'd be charging him with conspiracy to murder, not murder.

No, he did it, and he did alone.

Am I leaving you here or what?

Where are we going?

Brian Wilcox's house.

So, you saw him?

Are we talking a scoop here?

I can't believe you got a scoop on your first night out, Paddy!

Scoop, my arse!

Don't make her head any bigger, or it'll be sticking out the bloody roof.

That's the Wilcox house there.

We need to get a comment from Brian's mum.

She might even know the kid's name.

So they think he came here from the Southside, killed Brian, then went home. Alone?

One of yous two will need to speak to her.

Be best if it comes from a girl.

-BOTH:

-I'll do it.

You do it, Heather, you look like a journalist.

Her name's Gina. Speak to her gently.

Act as if you know the kid's name already.

Ask her if they were friends. Does she think he's guilty?

Ease it out, OK?

OK.

What d'you want?

I'm Heather Allen from the Daily News.

-Do you know what time it is?

-Sorry if I woke you.

I just wanted to have a quick chat about the boy who's been arrested.

Do you think I sleep, darling?

Just a quick chat.

Mrs Wilcox?

Knock again!

SHE KNOCKS

Here!

Wash the blood off your hands with that!

It's piss! I'm covered in piss!

Nae luck, eh?

There was absolutely no need for that.

I mean, absolutely no need.

Better get used to it - it's part and parcel.

Look at it as a sort of baptism.

Anyway, you were lucky. she might have needed a shite.

Oh, I think I'm going to be sick!

Can you just drop me home now, please? I need a shower.

And you can keep your eyes on the road.

I'm not some Page Three girl you can drool over!

-Where are you going?

-With you.

No, no. I've got to a story to write up.

-But we got that story together.

-"We"?

-Aye, "we".

-You better give credit where credit's due or...

Or what?

Or I'll tell Devlin about the half bottle in the glove compartment.

Don't worry, I'll put in a good word for you.

You'll make a journalist yet.

You still up?

How did it go?

Fine.

Did you really have to go back to work?

Today?

I'm sorry, it's just the way it is.

I was lucky I got any time off at all.

She was your grandmother.

She loved you.

I know she did.

Away to your bed. Go on.

I can help.

I don't need your help.

-Please don't eat that.

-Eat what?

The boiled egg. I know you've got one.

-I'm starving.

-Maybe you could try another diet?

One without eggs. Just for me.

Where've you been all night? Sean was round looking for you.

I was being an investigative journalist.

Well, he wants you to phone him.

# What do you call that noise

# That you put on?

# This is pop

# Yeah, yeah... #

Could you go and see if McVie's got those photographs he mentioned, please?

What photos?

He managed to get a snap of this boy this morning. The boy they lifted?

Sure.

And well done last night, yeah?

-Word is you got his story for him.

-Is that right?

-Mm-hm.

Oh, and CHUFFS, by the way!

CHUFFS?

Cheer Up For Fuck's Sake.

Nearly done.

You want to take a look at this wee evil pig?

Here, it's coming.

It may be a bit blurred, cos I took it on the move.

Front page?

Not yet. After the trial.

If it's syndicated, ooh! It's a jackpot for me.

Is that definitely him?

Yep. Evil little bastard.

SHE BREATHES HEAVILY

Do you want a ciggie?

You're making me nervous, and I don't even know what's going on.

You need to promise you won't repeat this to anyone.

Cross my heart and hope to die.

I was in the dark room and I saw a photo of the boy in the Wilcox case.

I know him.

-You can do a piece, you can get it syndicated!

-I can't!

But, Paddy, if you get a story syndicated, it's your calling card.

You'll make amazing contacts.

My family would go mental. They'd never speak to me again.

-But...this is your big chance.

-I can't.

My cousin split from his wife, and the boy stayed with her.

Then she hooked up with a guy that got killed in the ironworks.

He's had a miserable life.

Well...that's amazing background, right there.

You should do the story, Paddy. It'd be unprofessional not to.

It would tear the family apart.

-Use the story, Paddy.

-No!

Fine, then. Your mistake.

How's you?

Fine, Dad. Is everything all right?

What?

Has Cousin Danny called?

Eh?

Oh, here we go. What's this balloon up to now?

Hello, stranger.

What are you doing here?

Getting my second tea.

He's been waiting over an hour for you.

Looks like he's survived, though.

-Here.

-Not for me, Mum, I'll have an egg.

-You need to eat.

-I'm hardly going to fade away.

-Don't start going on about being fat again.

-Mum. I am fat. I just am.

-That's puppy fat. It'll disappear in a few years. You'll be as slim as the rest.

Can I speak to you upstairs?

I need to tell you something.

-Am I chucked?

-What?

We were supposed to meet back here last night.

-I waited for you for ages.

-Oh, sorry. I went out in the call car.

See, I wouldn't know what a call car is, I don't work at a newspaper.

It's a car that goes out at night, going to hospitals and police stations, looking for stories.

That's disgusting.

God, Paddy. You are the most ambitious person I know.

-You'd cut me in half for a leg up.

-That's pish!

Look, I'm interested in my job, what's wrong with that?

If you had a choice between me and your job, which one would you...?

Why would I have to choose?!

Oh, Sean. I don't have time for this.

I saw a photograph of the boy who killed Brian Wilcox today.

-Who?

-It's in all the papers!

Oh, right. Aye. So they've got somebody?

It's Calum Ogilvey. Danny's boy.

I looked and looked, hoping it wasn't, hoping it was just somebody that looked like him,

but it was him.

How good was this...photograph?

Good enough.

This is stupid. Somebody would have told us.

-Phoned your da.

-Would they?

Danny might not even know. Calum lives with his mum.

He killed that boy?

They seem to think so.

Look, don't say anything, will you? I don't sure my mum could take any more.

Sure.

I'm really knackered.

I need some sleep. Is that OK?

Pictures. Tomorrow night? We still on?

Can I see how it goes?

You're going to leave me one day, Paddy Meehan. I know you are.

You are, you know you are.

Seanie, you're my wee sweetheart, you are.

I'll never leave you.

Don't worry. I'm sure you're wrong about Calum.

Night.

MUSIC: "At Home He's A Tourist" by Gang Of Four

# At home she's looking for interest

# At home she's looking for interest

# She said she was ambitious... #

BACKGROUND CHATTER

I can't believe you did that!

Wait a minute. I knew you weren't going to use the story. You told me you couldn't.

-So, I didn't see any harm...

-How could you?

My whole family is going to think it was me!

Listen, it can't be all nicey nicey all the time.

I'm not in this business to be popular.

I'm sorry but that's just the game we're in.

-You!

-Hey, what're ya doing?

You lying bitch!

YELLING

Stop it!

Stop it!

Ow! Paddy! Ow!

Paddy, stop it!

Stop it!

Stop it!

MUFFLED CRIES

SCREAMING AND GURGLING

TOILET FLUSHES

You're...finished!

RESTRAINED LAUGHTER

Piss off, the lot of you!

CHATTER CONTINUES

There you go. Get stuck in.

No?

You don't look a stranger to a macaroon to me.

Diet.

So are you going to tell me what happened in the ladies?

-I had an argument with Heather Allen.

-I'll say, you stuck her head down the bog.

Well, she is a wee shite.

I'm not interested in why you did it.

She's been persuaded not to make a formal complaint, so whatever's bugging you, drop it. All right?

No, it's not all right.

Look, she's flavour of the month with editorial, cos she brought in an important story, so it is all right.

And remember who you're talking too. You're a minge hair away from gettin' your marching orders.

It's not her story. It's my story.

Calum Ogilvey is my cousin's kid. I confided in Heather.

Now my whole family is going to disown me when they see that story.

Oh, Jesus.

-Sorry, there's nothing we can do about that.

-It's not right.

I said I'm sorry, but we can't ignore this story, Meehan, we just can't.

It would've been an accident, anyway.

-They would have just been playing, and it went wrong.

-Yeah, sure.

He took him there, strangled him, bashed his brains out, threw him in the canal.

That's a lot of accidents, isn't it? Besides they found that boy's blood all over him.

Somebody could have put that blood there, somebody could have made it look like...

Meehan...

When the coppers went for him, he did a runner, and that was before they mentioned Brian Wilcox.

So you and your family are in, what they call these days, denial.

Take the day off, all right, and stay out of trouble. Go on.

Hey! Don't you go talking to any other newspapers, you understand me?

You still open?

Certainly am, m'lady. Just caught me in time.

Could I have a packet of refreshers, please?

Mon plaisir.

On the house.

Thanks.

Mind if I ask you a question?

Fire away.

You know about Brian Wilcox?

Aye, of course.

Terrible.

They got the wee monster that did it, though.

So I've heard.

You must know a lot of people round here, then?

Like the boy who took him?

Was he from round here?

Who are you? Nancy Drew?

I'm with the Daily News.

I was wondering if you'd seen any new faces around...

anybody looking suspicious?

-You got a name?

-Heather.

Heather Allen.

Well, Heather,

kids come from everywhere for the ice cream van.

Stops just outside the Wilcox house,

over there.

Any of them could have taken that wee boy.

That might answer your question.

Yeah.

Thanks. Bye.

Bye.

It wasn't me, Danny. I didn't write the story.

I wouldn't do that.

You have to believe me.

He wasn't here the day that boy went missing.

He only stays over on a Sunday.

You put that in your next story.

There's no way my Calum did this, Paddy.

I know that.

He couldn't do that.

Hiya, Mum.

CHATTER ON TELEVISION

What are you watching?

Anything good? No?

You'll never guess who I saw walking down Sauchiehall Street today.

The Pope. Him and Saint Theresa.

They were singing Danny Boy and eating sherbet dabs.

Mary Ann, you don't even know what happened.

-Arsehole.

-I'm going to tell Mum you said that.

I'm going to tell Mum you spoke to me.

< Is she up there?

< FOOTSTEPS

I want a word with you. Just what do you think you're playing at?

Where's your loyalty? Family first, everything else last. Have you got that?

-Will it make any difference if I said I didn't write that story?

-I read it! It even sounded like you.

-Who else would know about Danny's ex-wife? And the accident.

-All I did was...

We've just buried our granny,

and in case you hadnae noticed, our mum is grieving, this is the last thing that she needed.

-I know that.

-Oh, do you?

I never thought you'd be such a mercenary little...

Oh, say it.

And don't hang by the thumbs waiting for Sean. He just phoned.

He doesnae want to see you.

It wasn't me.

SHE CRIES

What are you doing up?

Can't you sleep?

Are you allowed to speak to me? Shouldn't you check with Mum first?

Y'know, your mother always circles the wagons in a crisis.

It's just her way.

She'll calm down.

Do you think I wrote that story?

-No.

-Then why are you going along with her?

She's not an easy woman to live with, we both know that,

-but her heart is in the right place.

-Is it?

You should have seen her when she was younger.

Straight off the boat from Derry.

A wee stunner.

But even then, she always told it like it was.

It's just the way she is.

I don't think she likes me.

Paddy, she loves you.

She's scared of losing you, that's all, the last thing she wants to do is drive you away.

She's going about it the wrong way.

-So, what's all this?

-Just some stuff for work.

Dempsie...

-I remember that.

-Do you?

A bit.

I want to find out more about it.

-It might help Calum.

-How?

I'm not sure yet.

The boy in this case looks just like Brian Wilcox.

Same age, same hair, everything.

And a good reporter doesn't just write what people say happened, they try and find out the truth.

See, you and your mother aren't that different.

You both like to tell it how it is.

# I'm walking a line

# I'm thinking about empty motion

# I'm walking a line

# Divide and dissolve... #

OFFICE CHATTER

-Can I talk to you?

-Her legs were that long, you'll need a pilot's licence to pull her knickers down.

McVie!

Listen, mate, I'll let you go. OK, bye.

There was a time copy boys weren't even allowed to look at journalists, let alone speak to them.

Those were the days.

I've been doing some research on the Brian Wilcox case.

I have another angle. I was wondering if you'd help me write a story.

I heard you were related to the little bastard that did it.

I just need someone to help put it together.

Can you get in to see him?

Eh, no, no, I can't.

-Well, you're no use to anybody, then.

-He's only a child. That's part of my theory.

Legal age of responsibility in Scotland is eight.

He'll be tried as an adult.

He doesn't stop being a child just because it suits us!

Premeditated murder.

He hid all the way to the canal on the train, planning it.

-Did anybody see him?

-He'd a train ticket in his pocket.

That doesn't mean anything.

-I bet they don't find a witness that puts him on that train.

-No?

-I don't think he did it.

You would say that, wouldn't you?

I'm not interested.

But y'know, even as an employee of the paper,

they would pay good money for information on your family.

They do do that.

I'm here for Devlin, need a set of clippings.

It's a bit of a rush.

Search words "Dempsie", "Thomas" and "murder".

# ..story of the blues

# First they take your pride

# Then turn it all inside

# And then you realise

# You got nothing left to lose... #

Hi, Mrs Dempsie.

I'm with the Daily News.

I'd like to talk to you about the murder of your son, Thomas.

I wondered when you lot would turn up.

You look a bit young to be a journalist.

Heather Allen.

You can check it at the paper if you want.

High flats.

There's nowhere to hang your washing out.

And if you did, it would get nicked.

Council moved us here after Alfred get the jail.

And everybody knew where we were after you lot published our address.

Before my time.

You said "we"?

Aye, me and the wean.

I didn't know you had any other children?

I had a son

before I met Alfred.

Smoke?

Em, no.

He lives with his dad.

He was in and out of jail himself, but...

he cleaned up his act after Thomas died.

They got on pretty well.

Well, I guess that's something.

Aye, that's something.

Alfred was innocent, y'know.

Only reason he didn't have an alibi was cos he was at pitch and toss.

Nobody wanted to admit to illegal gambling.

Even when he was on a murder charge?

These things were run by gangsters.

People were scared.

Anyway he wasn't a man you'd remember, was Alfie.

He was a good dad, though,

a really good dad.

I lost a son and a husband.

Wankers! They've cut the gas off.

I'm sorry to bring all this up again.

It's OK.

It's with me, anyway. Every day.

I noticed something when I was reading about Thomas.

Brian Wilcox was taken on the same day.

Did you realise that?

I thought that's why you were here?

If Alfred didn't kill your son, who do you think did?

Were there have any other suspects?

Just Alfred.

Why would he take Thomas all the way to the canal?

It didn't make any sense.

The canal? They found him in the canal?

That's right.

I'm sorry, it didn't say that in the other articles.

I'd better get going.

Thanks again, Mrs Dempsie.

When they found him, the fish had got to him.

His eyes were gone.

Take my photograph?

I'm going to be famous.

You kidding? You might crack my lens.

You know what happened in that house, then, do you?

Yeah. A wee boy who lived there was killed a few years ago.

-Thomas Dempsie.

-That's right,

but it wasn't that house, it was a bit further up, so you've been wasting your film.

Thanks.

You don't live round here, then?

-No. I'm working.

-What d'ye work at?

Journalist, Daily News.

Oh, aye.

They don't pay you very much, obviously.

Or do all journalists look like they've just robbed the Army And Navy store?

I'll have you know these monkey boots are a one-off.

Kevin McCorkhill.

Heather Allen.

Yeah. You got a boyfriend, then, Heather?

I might or I might not.

-Who's interested?

-Maybe me.

Maybe you?

Brave boy wearing an earring.

I heard a guy got beat up around here for using an umbrella.

Aye, that was me.

I better be off.

-I'll chum you a wee bit. Like you say, you cannae be too careful round here.

-I'll be fine.

Maybe we'll meet again, Heather.

Maybe we will.

McVie!

Christ, you get fatter every time I see you, Meehan.

-Can I come out with you in the car again tonight?

-No chance. Not after last time.

-But we got a story.

We?

I might be fat, but tomorrow I could be thin. You'll always be a wank!

Devlin's looking for you.

You wanted to see me?

Where have you fuckin' been?

PHONE RINGS

-Hello.

-'Heather Allen?'

-That's right?

-'Do you want to know about Brian Wilcox?'

-Who's this?

-'I said, do you want to know about Brian?'

Erm, what can you tell me about that?

'Not on the phone. Meet me.'

-Name the place.

-'Underground car park at Central.'

'About 11 o'clock tonight. I'll have a Daily News.'

-I'll see you...

-LINE GOES DEAD

..there.

So what, that's it?

This boy Dempsie went missing the same day eight years ago?

Both found in the canal.

Both from Langhill. Don't you think that's a bit of a coincidence?

So what are you saying, they're the same killer?

Cos the coppers know who killed Thomas Dempsie, he died in jail. End of story.

The cops get it wrong sometimes, don't they?

You can't just walk out of here whenever you feel like it, Meehan,

you're not a journalist, your a copy boy!

I could be.

-Sorry?

-I could be.

That would make a funny by-line by Paddy Meehan.

I can live with Patricia.

Why d'you want to be like them, anyway?

Mean-spirited bunch of bastards, every last one of them.

And not just this lot -

worked all over before I came here, you know.

Manchester, London, they're all the same.

Hearts like bone, minds trained to think the worst of everybody.

Is that how you want to end up?

I was eight when the Paddy Meehan story broke.

He'd still be in jail if it wasn't for a journalist.

Sometimes we're a person's last chance, when nobody else

believes them, when everybody has got bored with the story, we can still make a difference.

I don't want to be like them.

I want to be a journalist.

Fuck me, I've just had a Frank Capra moment.

Listen, you.

You leave here without permission one more time and I'll sack you, you understand?

Now fuck off.

DOOR SLAMS AND ECHOES

SHE SIGHS

SHE GASPS

SHE YELLS

SHE SCREAMS

No! No! NO!

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd

E-mail [email protected]

That boy, Ogilvey, your relative.

They'll convict him, sure as eggs is eggs.

Ms Meehan, your colleague is dead.

It'll only take a few minutes.

I just want to know what you told the police.

You have a temper, then.

-I'm sorry I did it now.

-WAIT!

There're links between these cases.

If you won't print it, I'll take it to another paper and they will.

See what you can find, write it up. I'll take a look at it.

I heard you speaking to Devlin.

Are you trying to steal my story?

I want to know if you and me can work together.

-What's going on, Paddy?

-I wanted to go to Pete.

I always thought he was innocent,

I never doubted it.

Can you say the same?