A Prayer for the Dying

Run, Martin.

Jesus, come on.

- Where is he?

- Move!

Is that you, Martin?

Who the f*** you think it was?

Drink?

May you die in Ireland.

Isn't that what they say?

Look...

- I want my passport, now.

- You'll get it.

And no ordinary one.

Pedigree. And a safe berth

on a cargo boat to the States.

When?

And $50,000.

- What would I have to do for all that?

- What you're good at.

- No. There'll be no more killing.

- One more makes no difference.

I said, no!

Just one.

A piece of slime.

You'll be back.

Every policeman is looking for you,

and so are your comrades in Ireland.

I'm all you've got.

You f***ed that up.

Kristou did his best.

And he'll do better.

- Fallon didn't look much to me.

- He's beautiful.

The best.

I want him, Kristou.

Get him back.

How, Mr. Meehan?

You heard him.

Ring the police.

Turn Fallon in?

What if they catch him, Jack?

They won't.

They're not good enough.

Call them, Kristou.

Get out.

Let's go.

- Who you operating for?

- I'm only the driver.

Who you operating for, fellah?

Jack Meehan.

Open the boot.

Go on. Get in.

Where's that idiot, Varley?

You must be Jack Meehan.

That's right.

You've changed your mind.

No. I wanted to see the face.

So I'd know.

Leave him, Billy.

Two of a kind!

You and me!

So, what name is he using?

He's using "Fallon."

Martin?

Up! Come on!

Sit down! Shut up!

Did you see anything?

Nothing here.

Sh*t.

Slow down.

Do you think they got him?

- Ten minutes earlier, it could've been us.

- Well, it wasn't.

- You set me up.

- I had to.

It was the only way I could get you back.

For your own sake, just one more.

How many did you kill over there?

Dozens.

I never killed for money or favors.

Never because I enjoyed it.

There was always a reason.

All for the glorious cause.

That's f***ing right.

Look where it's got you.

Now, even your own people want you dead.

Look at you.

A hunted animal.

Not a living soul who wouldn't turn you in

or put a bullet in you. Not one!

Just one more...

...and you'll be free forever.

His name's Krasko.

Gangster.

Murder, drugs, whores, extortion.

Same business as Jack Meehan.

Now Meehan's taking over.

You'll need another gun.

I don't think so.

Please, Martin.

I once seen some writing

on a wall in Derry...

...that said:

"Is there a life before death?"

They'll make me turn you again, Martin.

I know it.

It's either his life...

...or yours.

All this killing...

...that seems to follow me about.

Excuse me.

For God's sake, no.

"Go forth, Christian soul...

"...from this world in the name of God...

"...the Almighty Father,

who suffered for thee.

"In the name of the Holy Ghost..."

- Is Krasko dead?

- Yeah, but he was seen.

There was a priest there, Father Da Costa.

He saw Fallon plain as day.

But Fallon just walked away, let him be.

- Where's Fallon now?

- At Da Costa's church.

He's going to kill him there, then.

In his own church.

Nice touch.

Sh*t!

Who's there?

You play lovely music.

But that trumpet stop is a reed.

It's out of tune because it's damp.

Try leaving it in.

Have you been playing long?

Not long enough.

The parish priest doesn't mind...

...which isn't surprising. He's my uncle.

Are you waiting for him?

I suppose so.

He's at a funeral.

He'll be back soon.

I hope you're not leaving because of me.

No.

I have to go.

Look after yourself.

I'm sure he used a Ceska

fitted with a silencer.

It's a Czech gun.

Terrorists use them quite a lot.

I was in the military.

Army Chaplain?

No.

Doesn't sound like one of Meehan's men.

Jack Meehan.

Makes him look like St. Francis.

I'll tell you what bothers me...

...Father Da Costa saw his face.

Yes, and he didn't kill me.

- It bothers me.

- It bothers me, too.

It'll bother Jack Meehan when he finds out

there's a witness running around loose.

Excuse me, I have confession. I'm sorry.

Are you sure? That sounds an awful lot.

I must say,

I didn't think it would be that much.

- I'm sorry. That's the way it is.

- The way what is?

Come on, love.

We can't have this.

I thought there'd be some money left

to tide me over.

She's a bit confused, Mr. Meehan.

Her husband just died.

Tell me all about it.

I didn't want him to be buried on the State.

But I didn't know

that it would cost so much.

How much did you give him?

400, sir.

It says 300, here.

And even that's a mistake.

Because it should be 75.

It won't be on the State, will it?

No, it won't.

It'll be the best.

I shall attend to it personally.

300...

...and 25.

You obviously haven't heard

of our special rates for older people.

It comes to us all, Mrs. Orton.

Mrs. Orton will choose some flowers

with my compliments.

And she'll need a car to take her home.

He loved flowers, sir.

God bless you.

He does, Mrs. Orton...

...every day.

Show me the deceased, Mr. Ainsley.

Martin's a top operator.

He used to be.

Now he's a danger to the movement.

Where will you be?

Where will you be?

- Here.

- We'll telephone you.

Remarkable.

Probably the only pleasure

that old lady got out of life.

I can explain everything.

I've put the old lady in a car.

Bonati picked out

some lovely chrysanths for her.

Thank you, Rupert.

- Not on the day, please.

- Yes, Mr. Meehan.

You tried to thieve from Jack Meehan.

That's bad.

But what is worse, you tried to thieve

from that ignorant old lady.

I can explain.

There have been problems at home.

Problems?

You don't know what the word means.

I'll tell you about problems.

Only the poor have problems.

My father cleared off when I was 4.

My mother was reduced

to getting bits of cleaning when she could...

...and when she couldn't...

...she resorted to having sexual intercourse

with strangers...

...up against the back wall of public houses.

Five shillings a time.

Bonati, would you do the honors? Boys?

She fed us, Billy and me. Kept us clean.

She brought us up on her own.

She had pride!

In fact, she was very like that little old lady.

You tried to thieve from her.

No!

Please!

That old lady's earned a little respect.

Just as her old fellow's earned something

better than a State funeral.

I want him back at work tomorrow morning.

The police are going to call for me

after I've taken confession.

What more can you do?

The man was obviously a professional.

They want me to build up a picture of him.

- Do you think you'll be able to do that?

- Yes.

I was only a few feet away from him.

I saw him very clearly.

And he saw me, too.

And yet he let you go.

Yes.

Change your shirt, Michael.

Your flask's on the table.

They missed him.

He was too good for them.

Don't you worry. This town's a sewer.

Some rat'll always tell us where he is.

They didn't get him.

But I'll find him.

What now?

We just wait.

What's our cover? Married couple?

What about the conjugal rights?

No?

Come on, a drink at least.

"May the Lord be in your heart and on your

lips so you may humbly confess your sins."

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

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