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was riding all the low-life scum

he gets paid fortunes for

to keep out the nick?

Do you want to do that to him?

F***ing hell! Jesus Christ!

Who taught you that technique?

A f***ing cheesegrater?

I've got a good mind to tell your daddy now

anyway after that poor excuse of an attempt.

Please, don't.

That's not f***ing fair!

- She told me she was 18.

- Oh, dearie, dearie me.

It's not the best time to be inside

for riding kids, is it?

I make you right. Still, he's

only gonna do six months.

- Ah, posh fanny, though.

- Fair enough. Two years then.

Problem is, if some law-abiding

officers were to tell a strict

- Freemason screw like Ronnie McArthur...

- Ronnie McArthur.

That the girl in

question was 11 or 10...

Or even eight.

- Hey, come on, now, boys, eh?

- Aye, eight would do it.

Then the poor c*nt's life

wouldn't be worth living, would it?

Straight to the Beast's

wing in Saughton nick.

Aye, but hang on a minute.

Suppose this stoat-the-baw

had certain information

that could help the

law-abiding officers.

- With a murder enquiry.

- Ah, f*** sake.

Nah, I'm not a grasser.

Right, see, Ocky, there's this one guy in

the Beast's wing that they call The Beast.

- The Beast?

- No, no, no, no, not the Beast.

- The...

- ... Beast.

Shouldn't really be inside a

normal prison, to be fair.

No, but the last time

he escaped from a mental institution

the local livestock bore

the brunt of his frustrations.

F***ed a Highland cow

to death, so they say.

Tore the horns clean

off the poor bastard.

Ronnie says the only way

they can keep The Beast quiet

is by putting a new model

in his cell every few weeks.

- A model?

- Aye.

That's what Ronnie and all the boys call

the fresh-faced laddies they send him.

- Supposed to be a big f***er as well.

- F*** off.

You get your f***ing hands off him

and you stand up straight.

6'4", full of muscle

and deaf as a post.

What's deaf got to do with it?

Cos he can't hear you

when you're screaming "no".

- Hung like a Derby winner, so Ronnie says.

- Aye.

Splits them all first

time without fail.

One thing's certain, you'd come out of

there with five new arseholes, pal.

That's if you ever do come out

after an experience like that.

So what's it gonna be, Ocky?

- Grass up?

- Or lock up?

There you go, pal.

You stop smoking, OK?

- Yes!

- That's it.

- That's it.

- Oh, yes!

That's it.

Turn off my gas, Carole. Go.

Go. Go! Go!

Oh, yes!

Did you really mean what you said

about falling in love with me?

You're a f***ing cow,

do you know that?

We have been turning off the gas for each

other and you are a work mate's missus.

So, do you know what that makes you

in my book?

Do ya?

It makes you a f***ing cow.

- Why are you being like this?

- Because... Because, darlin',

you let me in here and

you let me in there.

You don't let me in here.

And that's what love is.

What was all that? What was all that?

What was all that f***ing good stuff, eh?

That was all just games, weren't it?

Sad, silly wee games.

A test if you will. A test which you

have sadly and miserably failed.

Why are you saying all this? And why

did you call me by your wife's name?

You said you loved me, not Carole.

I need you to take a good, long, hard think

about what feelings actually are, OK?

Because, if you want me to fix

your head, easy-peasy Japanesey,

but only you... only you can

get in touch with your heart.

- But, Bruce...

- If you want a f***ing,

if you want a shagging

and a riding, I'm your man.

However, I've got to inform you, I find

all this just a little bit sordid.

And I can only imagine how much

this would hurt poor old Dougie

if he found out.

In his own f***ing bed, Christ!

Bruce, please stay. We need to talk.

No! I am on a murder case here.

That's M-U-R-D-E-R,

which spells S-E-R-I-O-U-S.

So, if I don't get my A-R-S-E in G-E-A-R,

I am in serious S-H-I-T, OK?

You're being so cruel.

Love is cruel, Chrissie.

Love is cruel.

I think she's f***ing somebody else

as well, Robbo.

No, no, no, no.

It's killing me because I can't even

prove it. Some detective me, eh?

Listen, listen, listen.

Your Chrissie is about

as loyal as they come.

- Ah, f*** off.

- Come on, now. Come on.

And cheer the f*** up.

You know you're the favourite

for the Chief Inspector position?

You reckon?

Hey, you're lucky. Carole's great.

She's a real beauty as well.

Aye. I'd say you're right on that.

- You two still as happy as ever?

- Couldn't be happier.

- How old's...

- Seven. Stacey's seven.

Stacey, aye.

- Here are the lads.

- Gus.

Thank Christ.

Come on, sheriff's in town. Give us two.

Just the stuff, huh.

That'll do nicely.

And how's that wife

of yours keeping then?

Every day is Valentine's Day.

- And you'd be Cupid, aye?

- I'm the very boy, Robbo.

- Some man, some man.

- I'm the very boy.

Well, I'd better be

going home then, boys.

Right enough.

Take care of yourself then, pal.

What's up with him?

Never got a good word

to say about anybody, that guy.

Who, Dougie Gillman?

Stab you in the back

without even thinking about it.

Catholic, you see.

Saying that, look at

young Ray Lennox there.

He's as Protestant as

you and I, and yet...

Better no' say anything, actually.

He's... Nah.

- Oh, no, go on, Robbo.

- No, he's a good boy, he's a good boy.

Oh, go on. Go on.

Do you see him in here?

I don't even have to look around

and I know that the answer is no.

It's 3/1, he's in

that deviant wine bar

with the lesbian Amanda Drummond,

cooking up all sorts of shenanigans.

Oh, you're an awful man, Robbo.

What do you think the main topic of

conversation between them is gonna be?

You.

Maybe me.

Promotion. That's what, my friend.

You think young Lennox is running with

the hounds and hunting with the hares?

You said it, Gus.

I better keep a beady eye

on that wee bastard.

Don't want him spoiling

the old promotion chances.

Christ, no.

- Come on, come on, come on the Hearts.

- Are you a big fan then, mate?

- I am indeed, pal.

- So am I.

Let me guess, here comes the bit

about you being one as well.

Ever since your granddaddy

took you as a wee laddie.

Blah, blah, pish and shite.

- Job Centre's that way, Santa sweetheart.

- Merry Christmas anyway, pal.

I heard it's gonna be

a cold one, mind you.

Have a nice day.

Oh, 2-1. You f***ing beauty!

Come on.

- Colin! Colin, come on!

- Oh, for f***'s sake!

- Please help. Somebody, please.

- Out my way, out my way. I'm police.

Hey, what's happening?

Has anybody called an ambulance yet?

- Colin, look at me.

- Has he stopped breathing?

Do something, please. Do something.

Come on, Colin.

Colin. Colin.

Look at me. Come on.

Colin! Colin, come on!

Come on!

Oh, God.

What's happened

to that f***ing ambulance then, eh?

- Oh, God!

- Somebody phone an ambulance!

How have you been since

our last consultation, Bruce?

No problems, I presume, eh?

None.

I trust you're still taking

your medication regularly, yes?

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