01x10 - Season 1, Episode 10

Episode transcripts for the 2015 TV show "Spotless". Aired: November 2015 to April 2015.
Set in London, "Spotless" is the story of a troubled crime scene cleaner, Jean, whose tidy life is turned upside down when his outlaw brother Martin crash lands into his world, entangling them in the deadly dynamics of organized crime.
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01x10 - Season 1, Episode 10

Post by bunniefuu »

Previously on Spotless...

I got involved in something bad.

The fear of what these people might do to your family if they're prepared to k*ll someone in front of him.

There no more secrets?

Well, I met Claire today.

You can pick up your stuff from home.

And then leave.

You and I have nothing to do with your husband.

You don't understand the kind of damage this could do.

Have you told him?

He won't thank you for it.

You're only bringing him unhappiness.

He values loyalty.

Do you want this?

Yeah.

Well, live right.

I will.

Is everything all right?

Yeah.

That guy is a k*ller. He's Nelson Clay's brother.

You put the phone down, and get the f*ck outta there.

I will see you tonight?

Did he tell you his wife d*ed?

Yes!

Did he tell you that he k*lled her and f*cked her dead body for a week?

And he did it to other girls too!

That's who you were kissing right now!

No! You know, f*ck you!

I'll k*ll him.

Nelson will k*ll him for us.

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless the vines that round the thatch-eves run;"

It's a poem by John Keats.

About autumn.

Life, and death, leaves and cider.

That's autumn?

Leaves and cider?

That's what my teacher says.

What do you think happens when things die?

They're carried up to Heaven, on a big fluffy cloud, where an old man with a long white beard meets them and gives them chocolate and, computer games and, pretty girls.

You know I'm an atheist, right?

But you're not dumb, you think about stuff.

Yeah, I think about stuff.

Me too.

I'm like you.

I want you to be better than me.

Are you and Mom really splitting up for good?

I remember when your questions were about superheroes and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

I liked you better back then.

Come on. I got a meeting.

I have to dump you like the bad parent I am.

Come in.

If I can just ask, what the f*ck were you thinking?

Both of you.

It was a mistake.

Neither of us intended for...

You don't have to explain yourself.

How dare you ask that question?

You're not exactly Mother Theresa.

And for what it's worth, I don't regret it.

OK, look, Sonny, Nelson looked at me straight in the eye and said that if Victor ever touches another dead woman, he will k*ll him.

Victor only did it one time.

Years ago, when his wife passed.

It was grief.

Well, actually, his wife didn't pass. He k*lled her.

He did it more than one time, Sonny.

Has he had any girlfriends?

Since his wife?

Uh, yeah, I think so.

Have you met them?

No.

But he talks about them.

Well, we know of at least two occasions, recently.

I'm sorry.

Nelson will k*ll him.

That's the idea.

We need your help.

No.

We only need your apartment.

No, I'm not part of what you people do!

You don't have to do anything.

Yes, you are.

How many other places like this do you have?

Show yourselves out.

Take your bottle with you.

Nelson is a thorough man.

If he has good reasons, he'll have this place swept for prints and DNA.

So what now?

We still need to find a location that Victor has access to.

That was the perfect place.

You want to set him up on a date with an attractive recently dead girl, hide in the wardrobe to get pictures?

No, Victor can't know about it.

He can't know.

We could put a supermodel on a platter for him, but what if he doesn't take the bait?

What if she's not his type?

Necrophiliacs have a type? More than just, you know...

Dead?

I don't know.

Do you wanna take the chance?

So we have to k*ll a girl?

No, we're not gonna k*ll anyone!

What are you thinking?

Fabricated.

Setted up.

Making him responsible for it.

There's just one problem.

We need to get hold of some of Victor's sperm.

What?

You heard her.

Nelson is a thorough man.

He'll run a DNA test.

And we still need a location, that's two problems.

And a dead girl.

Three problems.

I can't bear the thought of it.

On top of everything, Mom will wear that... that fake smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

It'll take every ounce of strength for her not to b*at "I told you so", the moment you walk in the door.

"Marrying a dirty little French man!"

Then maybe I should just tell her he's involved with gangsters, and murders, and dr*gs!

Shut up! I'm still your f*ckin' lawyer.

Mom'll love having the kids to stay.

So don't be too hard on her.

And you need to get out of London.

I know.

I just...

You know, I can't seem to get past the notion that he is fundamentally a good man who's just... behaving like a c**t.

A redeemable c**t?

So, what next?

Assuming there is no miracle marital cure?

Life as a single parent.

There.

You said it out loud.

It will get easier.

So how do you know this guy?

He used to be a doctor.

We'd see him at scenes.

He developed some painkillers addiction.

They stuck him down here.

Like Quasimodo.

Except down, not up.

Come on.

We would need the body for 24 hours at most.

She would be returned to you untouched, in perfect condition.

No one would ever have to know.

Still dead.

Thanks for clarifying that.

I need to know more about your plans.

I'm afraid we can't do that.

I take it you've got another one of those.

It's too risky.

You're a greedy little junkie, you know that?

Calm down.

Double it.

You know what?

f*ck you.

Let's go.

OK, wait.

Show me.

Yeah, I don't think she's right for us.

That's all you've got?

This is no f*cking second-hand car you're buying!

I've shown you everybody.

Unless you wanna see the guys, the RTA victims, or dismembered corpses.

I don't think guys or people with one leg do it for us either.

How many dead bodies come through here each day?

If business is slow six or seven.

Business, huh?

Well, we have stuff to prepare, but, if something comes in, we'd be very grateful.

Attractive women in their twenties tend not to drop dead of natural causes, you know.

And if the family is sniffing around...

All right, thanks. Come on.

You just told a lie in there.

"She'll be returned untouched and in perfect condition." She won't.

No, she won't.

And it doesn't bother you?

Yeah, it bothers me.

Like I have acid in my gut.

But right now, we have to look after the living.

I f*cked a girl with one leg once.

Really?

Yeah.

Well keep it to yourself.

Anita.

She could run really fast.

Keep it to yourself.

Sorry.

Hey.

How are you bearing up?

I'm fine, thank you.

They hate me 'cause I left.

'Cause...

I was the baby. I was meant to stay and look after Mom.

And be what they expected.

Who are "they"?

Three brothers, one sister. an assortment of aunties and uncles.

What did they expect?

A good girl.

Respectful woman.

Contained life.

So you got out.

f*ck yeah.

Why are you putting yourself through this?

Because it's family, right?

You know about this stuff.

I haven't made... too many smart decisions lately.

My mom... she was a remarkable woman.

Hey.

Nice run?

Yes. Thank you.

It's just what I needed.

We've made lunch.

I wanted to make the sauce from scratch.

She wouldn't let me.

It's from a jar.

OK, why are you being so nice? It's freaking me out.

Did Dad hurt you?

You're making us leave home. He must have done something.

I'm not making him leave home. It's just... it's a few days away.

It is more for my sake than yours.

You're full of sh*t, Mom.

That's one of the reasons we love you.

Not the only one.

I'm starving.

OK, what are we having?

You've got nerve calling me.

I've got a favour to ask.

What I did with Sonny was wrong.

Tomorrow, I'm gonna see your brother and apologize in person.

He'll k*ll you right where you stand.

And I deserve it.

I'm fine with that.

But all I want to know is that my brother will be protected.

And you're the only one who can guarantee that.

You're taking the piss?

No, man, we drank together.

I told you sh*t I haven't told anybody. I trust you.

But most of all, I trust that you're gonna be king one day.

That's why I wanna talk face-to-face.

Wine bar.

Corner of Tolland Road and Campbell Street, call it two o'clock.

I've got business.

f*cking hell!

How many dead girls do you think you've seen?

Too many.

You know they seem to die more than guys.

I think they die about the same.

Women always get the blame.

Helen of Troy.

Joan of Arc. Virgin Mary.

Hillary Clinton.

Always the woman.

You blame Mom.

Oh sh*t.

But Dad's death, it wasn't her.

I'm responsible.

You're drunk.

The whole town knew she was f*cking that cop.

I know this.

No, you don't! It didn't happen the way you think it did.

You see, when Capoue disappeared, everybody figured maybe Dad had finally grown a pair.

Good job. He deserved it.

He was humiliated.

Why?

He was suddenly a tough guy.

He didn't like it, people talking, staring, asking questions.

So I went to see him.

What are you doing around here?

I'm sorry.

It's done, Dad.

What's done?

The cop.

It's done.

Jean and I handled it.

What are you talking about?

What I'm telling you, Dad, is that... we put an axe in his head.

He's dead.

He's not gonna f*ck Mom anymore.

We made a vow.

Never tell anyone.

I stuck to it, all these years. Not even Julie.

I didn't want to let him suffer.

You're the guy that never tells any lies, right?

Except this.

A tiny omission, don't you think?

The most important thing that ever f*cking happened!

Actually, there's something else.

No, f*ck you!

I don't wanna hear about it.

Don't talk to me.

You steam-rolled me, baby.

Fair and square. I'm proud of you.

I've been taking it easy on you for two years, Dad, but not today.

Why not today?

We're leaving London because of you.

It's just for a couple weeks.

I don't care what you've done, you need to fix things.

Everybody's hurting.

I'm trying.

Try harder.

Hey.

I hope you don't mind, I dropped Maddy and she let me in.

I'd rather you weren't here.

After her game, Maddy asked me to fix things.

Well, that makes me sad.

'Cause you don't want to fix it?

Mm...

'cause our thirteen year old is making please on behalf of our marriage.

I was lying to protect you.

I don't believe you.

You don't believe I was in trouble?

No, I believe you were in trouble.

I just think you f*cking loved it.

What?

In your element.

Pumped full of adrenaline, barely sleeping, always thinking, pushing life hard.

That's not true.

Yes!

Yeah, it is.

Do you know who you've reminded me of these past few months?

You, when we first met.

When you just had your wits and not this rampant f*cking ego.

It's not ego.

Do you love her?

Claire ?

No.

You know, I wish you did.

Ah...

I really did wish But as it is, you're just some guy who couldn't keep his d*ck in his pants.
Hey.

I need you to go.

Your name's Victor.

It suits you.

Um, Michael seemed... seemed wrong.

It's an unusual name.

Old fashioned.

My parents were patriots.

Two boys, Nelson and Victor.

Your brother said you were brought up in care.

Negligent patriots.

That's the English way.

The damage we do to our children, eh?

Are you going somewhere?

Yeah.

Yeah, thought we'd take a little trip.

Family?

Mm-hm.

You can't hide behind family anymore.

It makes them a target.

Your mom and dad, your kids.

They'll find them just to get to Jean.

He's done that to you.

You know, you don't have to hurt us.

I have to hurt him.

'Cause he turned my brother against me.

No.

No!

No, you do not... you do not thr*aten my family!

Mom, are you in the garage?

Just coming, darling, be out in a sec.

I'll have the same as him.

OK.

Still on the whiskey?

Instant adrenaline, mate.

Your friend's hanging out?

He's got an urgent job on.

f*cking Sonny...

You are one crazy m*therf*cker.

That makes two of us.

What's this?

This is being inside the tent, and pissing out.

Right.

Due diligence on Buckingham Gate.

One hundred kilos of paperwork.

This is what makes real wealth unobtainable to the ordinary man.

If you can't afford an army of lawyers, you're not invited to play.

We're crashing the party.

Hey, listen, you know, I don't need all this, right?

I know.

Just us is fine by me.

I know that too.

Let's box this up.

I'm this far away.

From what?

Respect.

I'm saying, real proper respect.

You deserve it.

I'm sorry that you're sacrificed for that.

Truly.

You're f*cking toast.

And I like you.

But you're all victims of friendly fire.

Acceptable cost.

What do you mean, "all victims"?

You all are victims!

But I might be going soft though.

I couldn't go a job today.

I formed an attachment.

I had to send Kevin to do it.

Kevin is... properly f*cked up.

Why don't you leave people alone?

'Cause it's me versus them.

Who's them?

Everybody.

It's my life, I didn't chose it.

Tonight may be my last night.

Let's make it one to remember.

Salut!

Are you OK?

Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?

No reason. Just checking.

Did Jean asked you to check?

I'm not his f*cking message boy.

Anyway, I have to go.

We're about to set off.

OK. Safe trip.

And Julie, I'm sorry.

Was that Dad?

No.

Back in a sec.

Maddy ?

Oliver, is that you?

Welcome.

Hello!

Look at that!

Follow me.

Oh yeah, we will.

Hello, sunshine.

Did you see that?

Yeah.

Is there more like that?

Yeah, upstairs. Go on.

Oh my, that is...

You're having a laugh?

Woah!

This is Geneviève.

Geneviève?

Geneviève.

This is Victor.

I will see you on the other side.

She knows about the condom, right?

She has her instructions.

Good.

Do you think she'll be OK? He's pretty drunk.

Geneviève could suck the chrome off an exhaust pipe.

She comes with a guarantee.

Hello, you've reached Julie Bastière. Please leave a message.

Hey, it's me.

Again.

Nothing.

I can't get anything.

Fifty minutes I've been riding him, and I nearly got locked-jaw.

I don't know what to say. That's never happened before.

Well, maybe she's not his type.

I beg your pardon? Have you seen me?

Come on...

Used condom inside an evidence bag, inside the flask.

We'll never talk about this.

You OK?

I am drunk, I just pulled off a guy who fucks dead people.

How do you think I am?

Don't get too comfortable. Gregor called.

He got a girl.

f*cking...

What the f*ck are you doing?

Spontaneous cerebral haemorrhage.

Could happen to anyone, any time.

In a coma for three weeks.

Passed away last night.

You're in luck, diagnosed on a CT scan.

So no post-mortem required for cause of death.

How old was she?

22.

What about her family?

She was French.

Working in a bar when it happened.

Hospital weren't able to make contact with family.

She's like you, fifteen years ago.

But prettier.

OK, let's do this.

Sign here.

And here.

Thank you.

Victor?

Sit up.

Oh, look... it's the Kardashians.

f*cking piece of sh*t!

Wow, wow, wow, wow! Leave it, leave it!

Get your f*cking hands off it!

Leave it, leave it!

You sick f*ck!

What the...!

What the f*ck are you doing?

He did it again!

No, I didn't!

I did what?

He k*lled a girl and f*cked her in my wife's workshop!

What?

f*ck off!

No, I went to the studio like you asked, but I've done nothing to anyone!

You sent him to Julie?

To commission some pieces.

Help get her business off the grounds.

Little discreet assistance.

Yeah, right. Send a guy who fucks dead people.

I don't do that anymore.

Nelson, I think we should reconvene this at another time.

He's been stalking my family.

He's been in my bedroom!

Hey, whoa whoa whoa! Watch it mate!

Easy, Rambo.

He took pictures!

She invited me there.

Rambo didn't have a f*cking g*n.

He did in the f*cking sequels.

What?

Find your f*cking discipline.

Nelson, we really shouldn't be part of this.

With all due respect, Peter, Shut the f*ck up.

Right.

Show me the girl.

Oh, what?!

She looks peaceful.

She was smothered, with a pillow.

That's why the blue colouring around the eyes.

I've never seen that girl before in my life.

What are you talking about?

You were with her last night.

What?

At the whorehouse.

He was very drunk, bothering women at the bar we were at.

I took him some place I know, with clean girls.

He seemed happy.

I left him there.

No!

No.

You weren't in the mood for companionship?

I was. I did, twice.

When did you bring her here?

Well, I didn't. Shut the f*ck up! I've never seen her before?

But you have been here?

Yes!

Of course, with his wife!

She thinks she's Terence f*cking Conran.

This is bullshit!

It's a set-up!

He's f*cking Sonny.

He is. Yesterday, he came to me for advice, 'cause he was coming to see you, to admit he was screwing your missus and take his punishment.

Do I look like the self-sacrificing type to you?

You leave my wife out of this!

f*ck off. Maggie was your wife!

Sonny's a gold-digger!

He says another word, f*cking sh**t him!

I know my brother.

And this...

This isn't his style.

It's a thr*at.

He knows you're preparing to depart, that he will inherit everything.

My wife, my kids, this... it's a message, that he can get me any time, anywhere.

Why you?

Jean exposed him when he f*cked the dead escort.

Remember, the girl you b*rned.

Until then, he was just a happy little necrophiliac.

Oh... f*ck... you.

I can't just take your word for this.

Come.

Bruises, on her breasts, and lower body, they were made post-mortem.

No, th... that woman was r*ped after she d*ed.

His semen is still present.

It hasn't been absorbed the way it would inside of a warm-blooded person.

Check it.

You're having a f*cking laugh?

Yeah, well this is f*ckin' bollocks! it's a cover-up, 'cause he's screwing your missus.

I can't tell.

God gave you fingers, didn't he?

And you, you think I can't do you damage?

Oh!

I've got his f*cking jizz on my hand!

No!

f*cking f...!

I can have DNA results on this, within days, do you understand?

Would that tell me that is my brother's sperm?

Yes, it would.

No.

No.

Then don't just f*cking deny!

Make it f*cking plausible!

Give an account of yourself.

How did your f*cking juice end up on that dead girl?

I don't know.

If this is true, the responsibility is with me.

You understand?

Me!

I can't look at any more dead girls.

I need some f*cking air.

Bring him.

I gotta tell you something.

I don't think it's the right moment.

Inside the dead girl, it's not Victor's sperm, it's mine.

What?

If he tests it, we're f*cking dead!

I can't just take your word for this.

Did you f*ck my wife?

Did you f*ck my wife?

No.

He's lying! Do it!

Do it!

You said this day may come.

He's my brother.

And something's gotta give.

Call Squire.

Ask her about the k*lling of Veysel Kisa and his wife, ask if there was anything unusual about it.

Call your cop.

You ordered those killings.

Squire will tell you that somebody had sex with the body of the wife after she d*ed.

Nah, she had a f*cking hole in her...

Half her f*cking face was missing, you...

Ask her to pull the case file.

Call her!

Yeah, all right, I f*cked... I f*cked the Turk's wife.

I never touched that girl...

What the f*ck... f*ck!

f*ck.

Help me.

He stays there, he stays up there, as a reminder of my f*cking failure.

This is on me.

I let this sick man continue, because what? Because he's my brother.

I should have broken his neck long time ago.

You know what this is like, don't you?

No, I don't.

We're not like you.

Good for you.

This depravity is on me.

No!

No!

It's not your time, mate.

What about him?

We can't leave a body strung up like that. This is London.

We'll clean the girl.

f*ck! What the f*ck?

Did... you stupid French f*ck!

Geez, f*ck, sh*t me!

It... it just clicked.

* Run from me darlin' *

* Run my good wife *

* Run from me darlin' *

* You better run *

* For your life *

* Run from me baby *

* Run my good wife *

Is everything OK?

You've been f*cking Martin Bastière.

Don't speak.

I k*lled my brother today.

I chose to do it.

My choice.

I'm choosing not to k*ll you.

Again, my choice.

Nelson...

Shh.

* What I love most of all *

Be quiet.

* Your swingin' gaze *

* Run from me darlin' *

* Run from my good wife *

* Run from me darlin' *

* You better run for your life *

I got something to show you.

What's that?

You keep old Christmas cards?

Mom did.

Look at the post marks.

Suriname.

And Belize.

Look...

Lucien Édouard Bastière.

I found this in Mom's bag when I drove her to the hospital.

Look at the dates. One every year.

This one is last year.

I think he's still alive.

I think our father may have faked his own death.

Why would he send cards?

Love?

Guilt?

Well, if he's alive, he stayed away for a quarter century.

f*ck him.

Oliver?

Julie?

They must be at Julie's mother's.

It's still ringing out.

Something's wrong.
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