01x01 - Millie

[bunniefuu]

This is just another story

about Jamaica.

It won't add up.

It won't make sense.

But like every story

about this country,

this is a ghost story.

A ghost is a chill you can't trace.

A memory you can't shake.

Some spirits are not even dead.

Call the girl, Millie Black.

She is me.

Call the boy Orville Black,

my brother.

Ghosts move into a space

that somebody's left for good

like our house when Daddy took off.

The girl and the boy

fill their empty space

with songs, with magic,

and with secrets.

The Mama?

She filled her emptiness with rage.

Dirty little f*gg*t.

How many times?

The girl stopped count.

But this one time something kicked

inside her like a horse.

Mama made one phone call to England.

One taxi ride

and she never saw her brother again.

It didn't matter

if she tried to write or call,

Mama made sure

the brother slipped away.

Welcome to the UK.

Are you staying with relatives?

Yes.

I knew bad news was coming

when Mama finally called.

Yeah.

It's your mother.

Is Orville there with you?

Mama please,

you have to let me talk to him.

No way to say it but to say it.

Your brother

He ran away to the Gully.

They had one of those riots there.

Millie, he's gone. He's dead.

I wish he was in Heaven,

but that's not

where God's sending him.

She was wrong.

Orville wasn't in hell.

Hell was living with her.

But Orville's spirit wasn't at peace.

Neither was mine.

I could feel him, on my back,

chasing after me when I chased

after men doing children wrong.

Metropolitan Police. Open up.

He looks like my brother.

If you didn't know me you'd say

I was just doing my job.

Nobody knew I was paying

an unpayable debt

to a ghost.

But on the day Mama dropped dead,

who should raise up like Lazarus?

One flight later, I left

freezing rain for scorching heat.

Lookin' for my once dead brother.

You know how it feels,

when it's the living that haunts you?

But this ghost story

needs a beginning.

So let's start here.

Right here.

General.

Empress.

One special, coming right up.

We should get married.

Next week look good.

Well,

are you working?

Because, I want to be a housewife.

I work for my Daddy

and my piggy bank is half full.

Boy, get your raas to school.

Blessings.

Curtis.

What, you sleep late?

Breakfast.

That a man smell?

Hey Millie,

my boyfriend playing detective

in your sex life again?

No, I'm just asking about

her date with the bartender.

I saw his d*ck,

but I don't know his star sign.

Is that a date?

Come on, you're driving.

Take his half-Trini a*s

to the office.

I'll see you guys there later.

This estate agent

has been bugging me

with unsolicited offers.

What? Good offer?

It's not for sale.

The house is done with you, my girl.

Flip it and sell it.

Get yourself a fresh start.

Hibiscus hasn't seen it yet.

You mean she doesn't want to.

You've been back from London a year.

And the house is finally ready

for her to move in.

I just need her to see it.

Look, you offer her a roof, she's

going to choose the Gully every time.

No way you two going to share -

Yeah ok maybe, but she's my sister.

I owe her even if she wishes

I stayed in London.

Not the only one.

Boss.

Superintendent Barracat.

Black. You running

on Jamaica time now?

I want updates on this one.

Busy morning. And that nun's

getting on my nerves.

Sorry, Sister?

Agatha. Convent of Grace High School.

Sixth form plotting a coup by now.

Oh, on Pechon Street.

Oh you know us. Past student?

No, I went to

Our Lady the Immaculate.

Where she learnt her uptown ways.

Janet Fenton. Two weeks now

since anybody's seen her.

Pickney bum school all the time.

No. Janet is a straight-A student.

She'd never miss a day from school.

She even volunteer on our literacy

program for underprivileged kids.

How come nothing from her parents?

Father's gone and mother's

barely a mother.

Some kids have

to raise themselves, Detective.

Mother's name?

Ruth Fenton.

Blond weave and tight clothes.

I telephoned and all she has to say

is 'I ain't seen Janet neither.'

What, two weeks

and still you're the one here?

Was anything off

when you last saw her?

Janet usually

catch the number 33 bus.

But one day I see a car

come and pick her up.

You know, most of these boys,

they borrow their mothers' cars.

But this one was something else.

Come from a world that I know

Janet don't come from.

You didn't catch a plate?

Well, that would make me

the detective and you the nun.

But she was chatting up

the driver like she knew him.

Ah, have you ever seen her

with a boyfriend?

Boyfriend?

No.

Remember what I said.

Sometimes it's the living

that haunt you.

Not dead, but gone.

This crime story is old.

But people make it new every day.

Ruth? Ruth Fenton?

Hey.

Hey stop.

Help!

Just relax, just relax.

We are the help, Mrs. Fenton.

Didn't realize you were police.

Yeah, right.

Is there any reason why you haven't

reported your daughter missing?

Janet? She comes and goes

as she please.

It's a long time

since I fussed over that.

What, even though

she's skipped school two weeks?

You know neglect qualifies

as child abuse, right?

She's not a child.

Wow, usually it's the neglect part

people deny.

She sent rent money just last week.

How can she be missing?

But why the raas is your 16-year-old

daughter paying your rent?

For all she costs me,

that's the least she can do.

Who's the boyfriend?

Mrs. Fenton, who's the boyfriend?

Who's not her boyfriend?

No. You know what we're not gonna do?

Descend into this 'my daughter

is a wh*re' bullshit,

because then I would have to conclude

that you are in fact, her pimp.

Inside. Come on, her room. Now.

Hot Pinky.

Sounds like a club. I'm on it.

In this country

nothing haunts like history.

Pick something ugly, bigoted,

hateful, shameful, violent,

and you see a shadow

reaching back 400 years.

I came back

to find my brother Orville.

Instead I found

Hibiscus.

Batty boy.

Charged with prostitution again.

Bis. Are these bruises

from the police or a trick?

Hey, settle up.

Pencil him in for next week, huh?

f*ck off.

Dropping him off at the Gully?

Hold on. What did your batty boy

detective friend just say?

Hey do I look like

a batty boy to you?

I know this b*tch knows my pronouns.

She.

You get the Hot Pinky details?

It's out on Harbour Street.

One of those go-go clubs.

Run by a lady named Alicia Bonnet.

List of priors.

You use your digital forensic

background for that?

Google. Try it sometime.

Dropping me off?

At the Gully?

Not a chance.

Those boots are sick, my girl.

It's wicked, ain't it?

Would look wickeder on me.

Alicia Bonnet?

Go by Hit Girl.

Detective Millie Black,

Kingston Central CIB.

Janet Fenton?

Underage girl

working your pole, perhaps?

People come here for the wine.

Grape juice sell down the street.

She don't work here.

But you know her.

I'm done talking.

Do you like your license, Hit Girl?

I like the judge who gave it

to me even better.

Looks like your friend check out.

Pretty girl.

Watch it. That's my sister.

Hopefully you start to feel chatty

before I start to feel nosy.

Shitty f*cking day shift.

Hey, you know this girl?

Why are you asking me?

She looks older

out of her school uniform.

Always here with the landlord.

He seems to like

the barely legal look.

Who is the landlord?

His name is Freddie Somerville.

Freddie f*cking Somerville.

What, you know him?

Rich boy, who love f*cking

ghetto girls,

especially all the underage girls.

Never once seen a jail cell, 'cause

the Somerville name is like grease.

Sticky but nothing sticks.

That family has houses

all over Kingston.

He could be anywhere.

Let's start with his parents.

And just like that, we took

a downtown problem uptown.

Blink too quick

and behind every old, white family

is the ghost of a sl*ve.

Detectives Hamilton and Black,

Kingston Central.

Plenty other girls would

have this job, you know, Marva.

Yes, Mrs. Somerville.

Mrs. Somerville?

We're looking for your son.

As are we, officers.

And all of this

on his daddy's birthday.

Please excuse me.

Police business

and party business don't mix.

Maybe pop back later, hmm?

Later won't cut it.

Freddie is connected to a girl

gone missing, Mr. Somerville.

Freddie? You looking for Freddie

and you come uptown?

Best bet is him slumming somewhere

with some ghetto trash.

Well the 'ghetto trash' he's

'slumming' with has gone missing.

Your superiors know that you're

out here harassing good people?

One call, you know, and I'll -

Get your face in a mugshot?

You're trespassing.

Heywood.

Need security to escort you?

Barracat's not gonna like that

phone call from Mr. Somerville.

Yeah, I could have

handled that better.

Raasclaat. You think so?

Investigating a crime

or demanding reparations?

Hold that thought.

You're not supposed to be back here.

I don't work for them, Marva.

Well, that means only

one of us in here can get fired.

That doesn't mean she can talk to you

like you were born behind a cow.

She damn near spit in your face.

Two can play that game though.

So.

Pretty girl.

Have you ever seen her?

She could be in trouble.

Same thing I thought when

I saw them carrying around

a shopping bag from

Bonnie's Baby Boutique.

You think she's pregnant?

You're the one who said

she's in trouble.

This month, Marva.

Most people would call

this place a sewer.

My sister calls it home.

Mama's ghost has

kept Hibiscus out here.

Look, Hibiscus is back.

Girl, she ever text you

what happened?

Babylon picked her up

trickin' last night.

Sister bailed her out again.

This one is a miracle b*tch.

Bis.

I thought some man

left you in a ditch.

And still I rise.

Cardi B?

Maya Angelou, girl. What the f*ck?

I'm glad you're home.

You've seen the new dance?

It got a hundred likes on TikTok.

Proof, baby girl, proof.

Corsica.

They let you outa that London prison?

Hit Girl. You look amazing.

You look like you sh*t away

two thirds of yourself.

Long time.

Drink?

Whisky. Neat.

You do business

with Freddie Somerville?

He owns this place, right?

His property.

But this here club is my business.

Mine is finding Freddie.

And the little Black b*tch

he's f*cking.

Wish I could help you.

Everything's kriss.

Freddie'll come around

sooner or later.

Leave the bottle

and send over some p*ssy.

Who that?

Used to f*ck about Kingston,

fixing horse races mostly.

Just came out of a UK prison.

He's in here looking for Freddie

same day Babylon

looking for Freddie's girl, Janet.

Sounds like trouble for them.

Trouble for the landlord

could be an opportunity for us.

Follow him.

The team is putting together

a list of Somerville houses,

and we'll go to Bonnie's

first thing in the morning.

I'm just worried about Janet.

Teenage girl, possibly pregnant,

mixed up with this Freddie?

She's been missing two weeks now.

One more night's not

gonna make a difference.

'Kay.

Bis.

Thanks for the goodbye earlier.

I had to get back to the Gully.

My sisters were worried.

I'm your sister. I worry.

What happened this morning?

Occupational hazard.

Bis, I told you to stop tricking.

And I told you to take your head

out my panties.

Well, at least you never flaked

on dinner like last week.

Oh, so this is a weekly date?

The way I see it,

when I'm not around you,

at least someone's

sorting out your front.

Bis.

I don't blame you, chile.

This bartender's full of

very big d*ck energy.

The room will soon suffocate.

Move and g'way.

His name is Richie.

Thank you.

You should come see the house now.

Put it on Instagram.

I've gotten rid of all

of Mama's things.

It's our house.

You're the one who moved back.

I've no reason to set foot

back in that house.

Plus I have to be somewhere

with my sisters tonight.

I'm your sister.

And the Gully is not safe.

A transwoman was jumped and r*ped

just up the way from you

two weeks ago.

I survived all these years just fine

without you, Millie-Jean.

Take your head out my panties.

Oh no. Oh come on, eat your food.

I said I don't want any more

of this f*ck food.

Oh Jesus Christ, Orville. f*ck.

You're still calling me that name?

No. Bis, I didn't mean to do that.

Bis. No, it was an accident honestly.

Millie.

Home invasion with spice bun.

You alright?

See you later.

You getting the royal treatment.

I'll call.

Usually you hook up at their house so

you can leave before they're awake.

Just because the honeymoon's over

for you and Daniel,

don't mean you can faas

in my business.

Look, come, check this hickey

and tell me if the honeymoon's over.

Right there.

You know you're confessing

to a crime, right?

We started the day thinking

Janet had run away

with her rich boyfriend

who'd gotten her pregnant.

We didn't know. We just

didn't know.

Can I help you?

We are looking for a girl.

Shopped here two weeks ago?

I remember her.

She wasn't our usual kind of shopper.

We think she might be pregnant.

She didn't buy for baby.

She buy older.

For boy, eight to ten.

She buying for kids' outreach?

Underprivileged demand new wardrobe?

Your security camera works

as well as your air-con?

That's Freddie Somerville.

That's her. That's Janet.

Stop. Zoom in.

Looks like they're fighting.

What the hell are they doing

buying kids' clothes?

Scene of crime.

CIB to 13 Walsingham Court.

Property belongs

to Frederick Somerville.

One male victim found

dead on arrival.

Standard response unit on scene.

sh*t.

Heckle and Jeckle,

what the raas you doing here?

We are working

a missing persons case.

Tell you what; if the body

disappears, we'll call you.

Who is it?

Freddie Somerville.

Don't touch nothing.

Don't need you bitching up

my crime scene.

I think he just called you a b*tch.

Damage to the front door, locks

And in addition to the heavy trauma

sustained by the face and head,

we've got abrasions on the left

side of the body here

and here right?

Lacerations on the hand and forearm.

Check to see if anything

obvious is missing,

TVs, electronics

Did he have a safe in here?

sh*t.

If so, why she buying eight to ten?

Body has defensive wounds,

clear sign of forced entry.

Armed robbery is on the rise

in this neighborhood.

And Freddie Somerville's name

is on the deed.

I'll make the call to his father.

Get ready for a shitstorm.

If he's Somerville,

why is the intruder

coming in barefoot?

Look. Everything's pointing to

a robbery gone bad.

Feel free to make sh*t

out of nothing.

Pregnancy test says Janet was here.

The question is,

before or after this?

Well, let's just hope she's not

the collateral damage

in whatever 'this' is.

Would guess all the blood

around the room is his

but given that he died instantly

he's not the one that spread it.

This can't be Freddie.

Superintendent Luke Holborn

of Scotland Yard.

Hi.

Detective Millie Black.

You come to colonize our case?

Please, you were listing the reasons

this is not Freddie Somerville.

I came all the way

to Jamaica for him.

Would love to know

I still have a case.

The scratch marks, here and here.

Bruises. Fingertip pressure.

If you come in to sh**t someone,

you don't try

and strangle them first.

I mean, in the - in the picture

down there,

Freddie had an earring

in his left ear.

There are no piercings

on the deceased.

Freddie may have been the target,

but he turned the tables on this guy.

k*lled his assailant.

Panicked, tracked blood all over,

and fled.

Scotland Yard pissing

all over the case.

I hear it rains a lot over there.

Why do I feel like

I'm playing catch up?

You suggesting I explain

myself to you, officer?

This isn't even your crime scene.

No, but you gave me a missing girl

case and it led me here.

There is no APB on Freddie

so I am guessing he's a witness,

not a suspect.

And whatever he witnessed

nearly got him k*lled.

There is a hit out on the only son

of one of the richest families

in Kingston.

Janet Fenton's life is in danger,

and your order is really

just to fall in line

for the white boy investigation?

Yours is not to try any f*ck with

me you'd never try with a male boss.

You have a case, I believe.

Find the girl.

You're not even sweating.

Should I be?

For this heat? Sure.

You know what I think?

Whatever you're bringing

is hotter than this.

So, Janet Fenton.

Freddie's girlfriend?

All depends. Does that make

you care more or less?

Picking up a witness is a job

for a subordinate, not a super.

But the case he's helping us

with is important.

Couldn't risk corruption

in the local police force.

My memory of the British police

is you've never been short

on corrupt coppers.

So that's why you left Scotland Yard?

Too clean for us?

Only so much shitty weather

and institutionalized racism

I could take.

Should we stick to the subject?

Look, this case is a major target

and Somerville is about

to deliver us a bullseye.

So to hell with the girl.

Why's Freddie testifying?

What have you got on him

that his daddy can't get him out of?

I really can't say.

A crime on UK soil?

Or Jamaican? Or?

Is this a Pavlovian thing?

The questions?

You'll let me know

if you get a lead on Freddie?

Say jump?

Jump.

How high, Scotland Yard?

Our girl's in the firing line

and the Yard won't give a sh*t

as long as they get their boy

safe back to the UK.

So we in a race against a hit squad

and Scotland Yard?

Yeah, let's check those

other addresses.

Corsica.

- Yo, Boss, we found him.

- What's going on?

Freddie's at his house in the hills.

What the bloodclaat

you doing here? Eh?

Go, go.

Waa gwaan, mi linky?

I have my eyes on Corsica.

The crew's going after Freddie.

They're heading up some hill.

Try follow?

No. Too risky.

Leave it to me.

I'm gonna find you a nice preacher's

son to grind on you, Shortie.

You have to sin to get saved.

Excuse you. Shortie is a lady.

Excuse yourself. We are all ladies.

Yes, Deltreece but you're also a h*.

Hole is hole, my girl.

Mi tired.

Can't do this with you again.

f*ck.

f*cking f*ggots.

Run.

Go.

Yo.

Judgment come, c*cksucker.

Please.

Deltreece?

Does the name from the envelope,

Carson Wray, give us anything?

I keep drawing a blank.

Bis?

No, Hit Girl. You find her?

Janet?

Not yet.

Well if she's with Freddie,

I hear he's up in the hills.

Yeah, go on.

Hit Girl. She says

Freddie's in the hills.

That's all I know.

There are no Somerville

properties in the hills.

Wray. Well, that's Mrs. Somerville's

maiden name. Henrietta Wray.

What's Freddie's middle name?

Frederick Carson Wray Somerville.

How about that?

Five properties registered

to Frederick Carson Wray.

Frederick hates his daddy.

Any in the hills?

Luke Crescent.

Confirming 128 Luke Crescent is

registered to Frederick Carson Wray.

Will you be requiring back up?

Yes.

Alright, dispatching officers.

We need to wait for back up.

You think whatever

is coming for Janet

is going to stop

and wait for back up?

She is sixteen, Curtis.

I should have worked

this case better. Solved it quicker.

Opened my eyes wider.

Because Jamaicans see sh*t

nobody else sees.

Janet Fenton?

We need to get you out of here now.

No. I'm waiting for my boyfriend.

Freddie'll soon come.

There's already been

an attempt on his life.

"I'm gonna grab a few things,

then I'll come get you,"

that's what he told me.

So you're talking to him.

Where is he, Janet?

We need to know what's going on.

He said we was

going on a trip to England.

A quick trip, he said.

He says I look like Meghan Markle.

Curtis.

Curtis.

We see breathing down our back

how this new story

will turn out to be

the oldest one we tell.

Officer down. 128 Luke Crescent.

Repeat, officer down.

And how the spirits behind this sh*t

wanted a hell of a lot more

than a dead Janet Fenton.