01x04 - Weapons of Minor Destruction

[bunniefuu]

(wind blowing)

(animal lowing)

(thunder cracking)

(thunder bellowing)

(clanging)

♪

(rain falling)

(music continues)

(computer game buzzing)

Jesus!

(g*n loading)

Tell him to sit.

He says to sit.

Now, I'm owed.

It may be buttons to him,

but it's a fortune to me.

He says he's owed.

You said you'd have the field

done in a day.

Weather permitting.

It depends on the weather.

f*ck the weather!

You're not getting a penny.

(clicking fingers)

What's he saying?

What's he saying now?!

Tell me what he's saying!

He says that the safety is on.

Daddy won't pay.

Then Daddy should shut his eyes.

(panicked breathing)

(breathing gets heavier)

(thudding, dishes rattling)

(whimpering)

You're even, right?

My trip here tonight?

That's overtime.

I'm keeping your father's r*fle.

That should make us even.

♪

Wait!

(inaudible)

I asked him

if he would've shot me.

No.

He said he would've given me

the g*n,

and asked me to sh**t you.

He said all I had to do, is make

it look like an accident.

And then everything would be mine.

I'm sorry

I'm sorry, I can't hear you.

It's time you learnt to speak

for yourself.

Like I just did.

♪♪

♪ Singing,

Lord, don't bring me down

(Female voice)

Emerson!

Emerson

Emerson

You'll get me kicked out!

(keyboard tapping)

(shower running)

(groaning)

"Ah, yeah"

Sure I can do that.

(whipping) (groaning)

(sinister music)

(music builds)

ELVIRA V/O: Mal looks on the

outside, like I feel on the inside.

'What gives?'

Now! Thank you. Enjoy!

God, that looks good.

Oh, wanna swap?

I'm a vegetarian!

Well

.. you do this every time we go out,

I expect it. Gimme.

I seem to have a habit of eh

stealing what's yours.

'Is she talking about who I think

she's talking about?'

It's just a piece of meat.

Remember,

it's on me, yeah?

Really? I thought it was on

those two auld lads

who left the chip pan on and

burnt their house down? Mal!

(giggling)

I'm joking! You're very good to me.

Yeah, well you're good to me too.

Yeah, right. Course you are.

Okay, then

.. what's the nicest thing I've

ever done for you.

I knew it. There is nothing.

You read my novel.

The girls at school got

their hands on it.

Read one page and took the piss,

but

.. you quoted lines

from the very last chapter.

I liked it.

(chuckling)

It let me into your head.

It was terribly written and

deeply morose.

It made me jealous of you.

You were super smart.

And I was super--

Hot!

Which I was jealous of.

And by the way,

you're plenty smart.

(Mal snorts and sighs)

Smart enough for Emerson?

You two have more in common

than we do.

He thinks your writing is class.

(Elvira chuckles)

Yeah, right.

And ye have journalism.

Whereas we have (derisive snort)

Sex.

Which I'd take over a Pulitzer

any day of the week.

(laughing)

(Mal bangs the table)

'She has no idea what

a Pulitzer is.'

(phone ringing)

(male voice)

"Hughie, where are ya?"

Clive's garage.

"Really?"

It was open.

"Open or not,

what are ya doing in there?"

(sighing) Clive's laptop.

It belongs to the paper.

It's gone from his files.

"And you think I know

where it is?"

(chuckles) You were his solicitor,

Maurice.

You know where everything is.

"Look, a member of your staff

has it. Emerson Stafford."

(whispers) Christ!

And all the work on Maria Riedle,

also with Stafford?

"Uh-huh."

(exasperated sigh) What are you

gonna do with all this tat?

"Will I send it to your records

room?" Ha!

No, no, no, no.

"You said it yourself, Clive's work

belonged to the paper."

"It'd be a sin to see it go to

waste." (phone line cuts)

(computer game jingle)

Here. Finally!

My really rubbish novel. Mmm.

Ah!

What was your favourite part?

This whole novel thing.

Why not call it a book?

Because it's a novel.

What's the difference?

Between a novel and a book?

Well, for one thing,

a novel is fiction.

So why do they call it

the 'Booker Prize'?

(sighs)

'I think Mal needs a win,

so I'll give it to her.'

My favourite part of your

'nov-ell',

was uhm when the little girl

shot that deer.

(small laugh)

(computer g*n firing)

ELVIRA V/O: George Slammon?

The drunk-driving kid-k*ller.

What? No way!

What is it?

He's out!

Yeah

Ten years, did seven.

Good behaviour or something.

Didn't you and him--

Mmm

No, his brother, Leonard.

He stole me smokes

if I let him look at my t*ts.

Ughhh. What a monster.

I never let him feel them!

No! George.

Over there having

the time of his life.

He's a m*rder*r. He deserves

a noose, not arcade games.

Yes! Come on!

Remind me never to make

an enemy of you.

Ah, yes!

(George continues sh**ting,

exclaiming)

ELVIRA V/O: Finding my next victim

has been t*rture.

'And then the world places

a most deserving one

right in front of me.'

'But I need to be sure,

before I k*ll that'

(phone ringing)

Who is it?

(hesitates) Dad.

Checking up on us?

EMERSON: "Cracking up, more like."

"What's up?" I need to bring up

Maria Riedle with Hughie. But--

You can't tell him

I told you he hired her.

"Hence the call.

I'm hoping you'll use

that big brain of yours

"to figure a way around it."

Did I ever tell you I did

an online course once?

"In?" Forgery.

"What"

.. they teach that now?

Yeah.

Maybe I can help you.

♪♪

(Both) I was looking for you!

Snap.

You first.

George Slammon.

Yeah, I heard he'd got out.

I want to do a prison system

piece. Right.

So I had a look at the obits

for that father and daughter

he mowed down.

This Patricia Ripley

who wrote them.

Any chance of a word?

She seemed in the know.

(sighs) Older woman.

(tsks) Never met.

Eh talked via a PO box.

Right. So that's odd,

because,

I found this stuck

to one of those obits.

It's just a bit informal,

for someone you never met.

I don't remember getting this.

But 'M-R' is

.. that stands for Miss Ripley.

Yeah, she signed everything

like that.

Well, whoever she is,

I'd love her phone number.

If you have it? Unless

Unless? Unless she's dead

or something.

(awkward laughter)

Well

(raps desk)

Oh, you wanted to see me.

Ah, it'll keep. Right.

(door opening)

(sinister music)

(beep)

ELVIRA V/O:

Hello, George.

(pulsating music)

(music quickens)

(beep)

(beep)

(beep)

He's nothing if not consistent.

This prison story.

Mmm. What's your take?

It's how good people do bad

things.

Now, I just need

Ripley's phone number,

whenever you have it.

Drop it. Drop what?

You're on Maria Riedle.

You think Buckley didn't do it.

No doubt you're writing

some shitty book.

Well, it's a shitty book I'd love

to keep you out of.

The sticky on that obit.

Maria worked for The Chronicle.

And you were seeing here.

I'm right, aren't I?

Off the record?

If you tell me everything.

I'll want something in return.

sh**t.

There you go.

You have Clive's laptop.

This town is full of little

birdies.

Well, there's something

on it that I need.

So we're both on Maria Riedle?

That's fine.

The more the merrier.

The week she died

.. the Guards did door to doors.

Yeah.

The questionnaires

are on the laptop.

They documented the names of

every g*n owner in the town.

Plus

.. the number of weapons

each owned.

And you want a copy. Why?

Cos the r*fle is the key

to the whole thing.

Give me a reason why I should

give you what you want?

Because I know what really

happened in here that night.

Why Maria went into the woods.

Mallory stole

her bag and passport.

Maria wanted it back.

Sorry, Hughie.

Still a step ahead of you.

This thing is an iceberg.

And you've only seen the tip.

If you want to see the lot

.. you'll give me what I need.

(foreboding music)

ELVIRA V/O: An hour spent typing

and deleting.

'What's stopping me from

going through with it?'

'Don't give me this,

'done his time', horseshit.'

'He deserves it.'

(sigh)

Is work doing your nut in?

It's Emerson. He's doing a thing

on prison reform.

Said I'd give him a hand.

That wee lad leans on you too

much. I think he takes the piss.

I wouldn't worry.

I'm not much help. I mean,

it's not like I've been to prison.

You should talk to your man

George Slammon.

He's just got out of prison.

Ah no, that'd be a waste of time.

Why is that?

Yeah, well people like him

can't be reformed, can they?

I think that's where you and I

differ.

He k*lled a father and daughter.

Technically.

What-- the man was driving.

Under the influence.

Alcohol messes with your

judgement.

People do things that are

completely out of character.

And the last time I looked,

character matters.

Okay.

Dad are you drunk now?

I suppose I could be. Why?

Because it messes with your

judgement.

So everything you've said,

I can ignore, yeah?

It's your call. It's not like

I'm an expert or anything.

Yeah, that's for sure.

But I do know someone who is.

(door opening)

Sorry for the short notice.

It's fine. It's quite around here.

Come on in.

So bereavement counselling.

My mother died the same day

I was born.

I've never really dealt with it.

My dad rarely brings it up.

I think he thinks I blame myself

for her death.

Whereas really

.. I blame the hospital staff.

And by blame, you mean

I want to strangle

each and every one of them.

Do you feel depressed?

Like I'm going through

the motions.

Like nothing really matters

anymore.

And before you say it,

I've tried every pill going.

They gave me blackouts. I've lost

whole chunks of my past.

So I'm working on developing

some coping mechanisms.

That's good to hear.

Grief can be

an overwhelming emotion.

But it's important to know

that you're not alone.

That it's okay to take the time--

Is forgiveness important?

Like how did you do it?

Let's keep the focus on you.

Okay.

Just I came to you,

because you've been through this.

All I want to know is

.. how did you forgive George

Slammon?

Say it. Say I've not forgiven him!

Say every day he's alive,

I'm dead!

(inhales deeply)

True. I

.. became a bereavement counsellor

after what happened.

However, I also earned a diploma.

I'm here because I can help you.

Then help me be happy.

Let's try a different tack.

Name your earliest memory

of being happy.

(exhales)

ELVIRA V/O:

Talk about pound-shop psychology.

(short laugh)

Mad, what's missing from my mind.

Then it seems we have homework.

Next session,

I want you to tell me about

a childhood memory,

that put a smile on your face.

Elvira, you're a writer.

Research your subject,

in this case you.

(chilling music)

HUGHIE: Who'd have thought there

were so many g*ns in Kilraven?

God knows what I'm looking for.

But thank you, Emerson.

Don't thank me, Hughie.

Tell me.

(sigh)

Right. Shut the door.

Okay, look the simple fact is

I k*lled Maria.

(Emerson laughs nervously)

Is that on the record?

Jesus Christ, Emerson!

I loved her!

Do you love Mallory?

Well

Well, could you?

(laughing) You know what you

look like now?

Me on my wedding night.

There's an image.

Well, don't do what I did.

Down tools. And find yourself

someone who you can love

with all your heart,

no matter how mad they are.

Look how well that worked out

for you.

Yeah, you're right.

Maria went into the woods.

Because Mallory stole her bag.

Hughie, I know-- Because I paid

Mallory to steal it.

Ah, Hughie no!

(sigh)

I just wanted to stop her from

leaving.

And instead,

I sent her to her death.

Now, I never thought that

I would have the chance.

But this is why I have to solve

her m*rder.

And why this has to--

Stay between us.

(creaking)

(key locking)

♪

ELVIRA V/O: I need to get to know

George better.

'Then I can decide his fate.'

(latch moving)

'Die or live, George.

You tell me.'

'sh*t. This is worse than prison.'

'Maybe he's still doing his time.'

'Just give me a sign.'

'Something that says you're sorry,

that I mustn't k*ll you.'

'My God.

What type of man are you?'

'Wait. Are you the type

that goes for a jog,

remembers the iron is on and

runs back home to--'

(panting) (sizzle)

(foreboding music)

Hey! Who's there?

Show yourself, you coward.

You wanna k*ll me, is that it?

Pay you back for what I've done?

What are you gonna do,

shrug me to death?

That yokes dangerous, you know.

It's modified.

Do you even know how to use that?

ELVIRA V/O:

Sexist pig! But no, I don't.

'I mean, is this thing even on?'

(nail g*n fires)

(George screams)

(music intensifies)

(nail g*n hissing)

(metal clattering)

(thwump)

Hey!

(birds singing)

f*ck!

♪

(panting)

(music builds)

(phone ringing)

ELVIRA V/O: Missed!

(music quietens)

(g*nsh*t)

Look at you,

getting good at this.

(g*nsh*t)

Doh!

I missed.

I wouldn't be so sure about that.

ELVIRA V/O:

My happy memory.

(anxious breathing)

(undergrowth rustling)

(effort grunt)

(birds chirping)

Oh!

Ahh (grunts)

You don't give up, do you?

(hissing) (effort grunt)

♪

(engine revving)

(music slows)

ELVIRA V/O:

I should be jumping for joy.

'And yet'

'And yet, nothing!'

(opera music playing)

(music continues)

(opera fades)

(sinister music)

(laboured breathing)

Stop any bad guys lately?

Thanks for meeting me.

This might sound odd.

But remember how I covered

your dad for the paper?

His run for the council?

Now, don't get me wrong.

I liked the man.

Tough. Mmm.

Never claimed to be something

that he wasn't.

Yeah. He should've won.

Only for his ties to the 'RA

kept coming up.

I don't hear the word 'allegedly',

Hughie.

(Hughie chuckles)

Well, for one of those articles,

your father brought me hunting.

He brought lots of people hunting.

Before heading out, I was

presented with four r*fles,

and told to pick one.

Now, I hadn't thought about

that for years.

And then I came across something.

Oh yeah? Five years ago--

Let me stop you there Hughie,

right? No.

After the m*rder of Maria Riedle,

the guards went door to door.

Yeah. And they took stock of--

(thwump)

-of every weapon, in this town

and the surrounding areas.

But your father showed

the guards three r*fles,

not four.

Claimed he only ever had three.

Now, I'm not saying your dad

did anything wrong. No.

But my question is

.. was anyone else on this farm

who shouldn't have been?

Somebody who worked here?

Came across a r*fle?

Maybe took it?

No one came onto this farm,

that I didn't know.

So no one came onto this farm,

and took a g*n.

Or r*fle?

What's this really about Hughie,

huh?

I'm trying to right a wrong.

And I'm trying to finish

a day's work,

so if you don't mind?

(sniffs and grunts)

(sinister music)

(sniffs)

(techno music playing)

(clears throat)

Want some? Oh no, thanks.

I'm on the job.

Did anybody ever tell you,

you have a cracking bod?

The head's good

.. but that bod.

You should do more with it.

ELVIRA V/O: He's as disgusting

as his brother.

So, this obituary craic.

You wanna know something

George did? Yes.

Maybe something that

no one else knows he did?

He took it up the hoop in prison.

(dirty laugh)

That's not something I can verify.

Verify?

Okay then.

Verify this.

(zipper opening)

George did that to you?

ELVIRA V/O: I knew it!

He did deserve to die!

No. George gave me a kidney.

Say that again? Kidney failure

since I was a nipper.

(zipper closing) George gave me

the greatest gift there is.

A second shot at life.

'I guess bad people do good

sometimes.'

Shouldn't you be writing that

down?

Hey, do you wanna make

an easy ton?

George's eulogy.

You could write it for me?

I wouldn't know where to start.

I just want to sound good.

'I'm not a f*cking magician.'

Pick a friend, yeah?

Write about her.

I don't have many friends. Great.

Imagine her dead. Then write about

it.

I'll do the rest.

This morning as I made my way

here from the rectory,

I thought about how Jesus, in order

to save the life of a sinner,

declared, 'Let he who is without

sin, cast the first stone.'

Which is ironic really,

considering the first time

I met wee George,

he was throwing

several stones at me.

Letting Leonard speak,

not a good idea.

The man's a header.

He might surprise you.

ELVIRA V/O: In fact, it might be

the best thing I've ever written.

Now Leonard,

George's brother,

would like to say a few words.

(door opening)

(click clack of heels)

Saved by the bell.

(microphone whistles)

ELVIRA V/O: Perfect.

The last thing they hear

before George is six feet under,

is what a monster he was.

George Slammon took it all

from me.

My husband.

My child!

And my life.

He was--

'Tell us what he was.'

-someone I thought about

every day

for the last seven years.

And every day

of those seven years,

I thought about what I would

.. say to him.

And now it's too late.

But if I got the chance

If I could speak to George

.. I would--

'Finally!'

Say

I forgive you.

'Say that again?'

I forgive you, George.

'No you don't!'

Rest in peace.

(applause)

'Sit down, morons!'

'Sit. Down!'

(crowd chatter)

Good man yourself.

How's the girls?

How's yourself, Ward?

What are you doing here?

Good, aren't they?

Who? The working classes,

look.

Throwing a couple of bob behind the

bar when one of their own dies.

Course, it's ironic, the guy that

knocked Slammon down

They found someone?

Yeah. A drunk driver.

There's a few round here

happy about that.

But not you. Two wrongs

don't make a right, love.

George didn't deserve that.

Sorry, excuse me-- I need to get

the f*ck out of here!

Come on. But it's just

getting started.

Jesus, it's a funeral,

not a music festival. We're going.

(glass slams on counter)

Have you ever heard the like!

The man slaughtered her family

and she gets up and says that!

I thought what she said was

lovely. Lovely?!

Are you serious? The man deserves

to rot in hell!

Eh, it's not that simple.

I'll think you find it is. Elvira!

Letting him off like that.

Elvira? What?

Uh, well-- What?!

George didn't do it. Eh, yes he

did! No, he didn't.

He did. I said he didn't!

Don't say anything else, okay?

Not a word.

It was Leonard, Elvira.

No, it wasn't.

(music builds)

He was driving, not George.

When George got home,

he said he'd take care of it!

With Leonard's health,

George knew he wouldn't last

two seconds in jail.

And George took the rap.

Now Leonard swore me to secrecy,

so swear you'll do the same!

Why didn't you tell me this before?

Why should I? Because then

I wouldn't have--

ELVIRA V/O: k*lled him.

Been so cold to him in his obit.

Eh you weren't to know!

It's not your fault.

'A good man died. This is on Mal!'

Still for her to forgive anyone

like that, it's nuts!

You really think that?

Yeah, of course I do.

Then what about me?

What about you?

Say I did something like that to

you, would you be able--

would you forgive me?

Like what? Hypothetically!

Say I did something to you. Awful.

And I couldn't bring myself

to tell you what it was.

If I asked your forgiveness,

would you give it to me?

(hesitates) I'd need to

know what it was.

So you couldn't?

That's not what I said.

What did you do? Okay.

How about this.

Go on. I know, I c*ck you.

c*ck-what?

So take him then, yeah?!

Take who? Emerson!

He's all yours.

Wait, what do you mean?

I mean then we're even.

And I can stop feeling guilty.

Would you listen to yourself!

Do you like him or not?

He's a friend and a colleague.

(Mal snorts)

Mallory, you've lost it.

Just have him, go on.

Then we're even and

I can forget about all this.

Mallory, I don't know

what you did!

Oh please Elvira,

just f*cking forgive me.

I can't forgive you

for something I don't know!

This is your last chance.

Oh is it now? Yeah.

This is how it's gonna be.

I can go home

and tell him to leave.

Or I can go home and do things to

him that'll mean he'll never leave.

Your call.

You know what, Mal?

Go home and do what

you do best.

Okay.

I offered.

Now we're even.

You've blown this out of proportion.

We're going to talk this

down to drink, right?

Talk it down to whatever!

Only get your own damn man!

Just so you know,

the Booker Prize

is named after the company

that sponsors it.

It has nothing to do with books.

(water hissing)

Oi! You owe me money.

(chuckling)

You wouldn't give us a hand,

would ya?

I poured my heart into those words.

Words I never got to say.

Tough titty. I'm not paying.

(voices talking)

The wrong brother died!

We need to talk. No!

We need to laugh.

(door opening)

You're always blabbing about

how fab her writing is. Well

Here's a chance to read some more.

Elvira wrote this? Yup.

It's pretty good.

For a kid.

She was seventeen.

It's awful. Now, read it to me.

(contented sigh)

(clears throat)

'It's ironic. For someone

who loves death,

I can't remember the first one

I witnessed.

Like literally,

I cannot remember my mam.'

(Mal sniggers)

(door banging)

(wood sliding)

Bless me Father, for I have sinned.

Don't be so smart!

That r*fle you stole from Daddy

back then

It has history.

Where is it?

Uh I got rid of it.

I was worried about

my daughter.

Why?

I was scared she was gonna

harm herself with it.

Hughie Byrne is sniffing around.

Jaysus. He knows there was

weapons on our land.

That someone stole a r*fle.

And what did you tell him?

Nothing, yet.

Aye, cos you can't, can you?

Your daddy was ba*ls-deep

with the Provos.

Last thing you want is anybody

snooping around your land.

You'll need to deal with him.

I'm an old man.

An old dangerous man,

remember?

Deal with Hughie Ward,

or I'll deal with you.

'The first two shots hit,

but the third spun from the r*fle

and flew into the dark

and depraved woods,

where it struck a deer.'

'Evelyn was embarrassed.'

'She felt happiness, not grief.'

'Her father had never seen her

this pleased.'

'Yet Evelyn was convinced that this

fleeting feeling would not last.'

'That her life would be spent

chasing it.'

(page rustles)

'The deer still breathing,

her father took his hunting knife

and ended

.. the proud beast's life.'

(paper rustling)

♪

Hunting r*fle.

Hello, Ward.

I didn't think you'd come back.

Most people don't.

I have a lot of lingering questions.

That's why I'm here.

Now, before we start,

I need a favour.

Okay. In your job,

you visit people

who have lost loved ones.

I've had new business cards

made up. Could you maybe

leave one behind after you

called to a house?

(snort of laughter)

I knew it! What you said

at George Slammon's funeral.

It's lies! You don't forgive him,

because you can't!

My God.

You did whole speech thing to

drum up business.

I believe in what I do here.

Your phone has been off

the hook since, right?

I mean,

I'll be able to fix my pain,

but I can fix others.

I gotta know. Just tell me.

I ask the questions.

Were you happy

when Slammon died?

Answer me,

and I'll never ask you again.

He robbed me of my life.

Now he's been robbed of his.

His funeral was

the best day I've had,

in a very long time.

Finally!

If only the wrong brother didn't

die.

So

Your best day.

When you were young.

Oh, uhm

I was 10. I went sh**ting bottles

with my father in the woods.

And? There must be more to it?

The therapy I'm proposing is about

triggering good memories.

How about going back into

those woods?

And sh**ting bottles?

No, I don't--

Wait, I

I already tried that.

Holy sh*t!

You did? When?

I was 19 maybe?

You're remembering this now,

for the first time since?

I I thought it might make me

happy.

But I just felt the same.

I was off my head on meds.

Elvira, take a deep breath.

Inhale through your nose.

I decided

.. cos it didn't work,

I'd k*ll myself.

Think back.

Tell me exactly what happened.

Focus on your breath,

and the feeling of the chair

beneath you.

Close your eyes.

I want you to describe what you're

seeing in your mind's eye.

Let the memories come to you.

(sinister music)

(echoing howl)

(gasp)

(g*nsh*t)

(g*n loading)

(sniffs)

(g*nsh*t)

(music continues)

(urgent, pulsing beat)

(banging, rattling)

(panicked breaths)

Oh, thank God!

Mal saved me.

(music intensifies)

No

(gasp)

No

NO!

(whisper) Elvira

Leave me here. I need to see

what happens next.

Elvira

(music fades)

(half-whisper) So that's what Mal

wants forgiveness for.

What happened?

My friend

Go on

She left me for dead.

And how does that

make you feel?

ELVIRA V/O:

Like k*lling that b*tch, that's how.

♪