Veronica Guerin Page #5

- Don't worry.|- I'm not worried.

Right. We've just got you|24-hour police protection.

- OK?|- Grand.

What a way to spend Christmas Eve,|looking at the poxy box.

Mary Poppins. Gone with the Wind.

Next thing you know|it'll be A Wonderful f***ing Life.

The doctor says it missed|the artery and the bone.

Point-blank range|with a .45, and this is all they could do.

- Where's Cathal? How is he?|- He's fine.

Where is he? Oh, yeah. He's with Mum.

- Yeah. He keeps asking for you.|- Yeah?

- ..shooting happened shortly after...|- ..investigations for the...

..warning from a crime gang.

You gonna stop this now?

Nan, look! It's Mum!

- Give me the keys.|- I know what I'm doing, Graham.

- They shot me cos I'm on the right track.|- Give me the keys, please.

- Thank you.|- Would you give me the keys?

No.

Look at the state of you.

Do you think I want to do this, do you?

I don't want to do it. I have to do it.

You're a journalist. You write.|You let the Gards look after this.

Oh, Graham, come off it. The Gards|can't do anything. They'll get away with it.

- 1 4 shootings in 1 4 months.|- You're one of them.

I know who the guys are.|Would you just give me the keys?

No. Tough sh*t.

Come on inside. Please.

They're not getting away with it.|I'll catch a cab, then.

Oh, for God's sake.

Ah, Jesus Christ.

Yeah, hi. It's Veronica Guerin. I'd like a...

Thank you. Come on. Get in.

- Who's driving?|- You can't drive with two good legs.

- You think I'll let you drive with one?|- That's low, that is.

- You drive like an old granny.|- Come on, Hopalong, get in.

Where is she going? She only got out|the hospital a couple of days ago.

I know.

You let me do it.

Look! Veronica Guerin.|Come here. Have a look.

Tommy Mullen?

Fatso Mitchell?

- Yeah.|- This is for you.

Get the f*** out of here. Here!

- Your column's upsetting me mother.|- Ah, you poor fella.

You think I'm a drug dealer, don't you?|Well, I'm no drug dealer.

I've seen family and friends dying|week in, week out because of 'em.

All right. Why did you shoot me?

No, I had nothing to do with shooting you.|I wouldn't have missed.

I'm telling you, he isn't here.

And I have to go. I'm busy.

- How old are you?|- None of your business.

Please, just give this to Traynor.

Are you gonna be OK?|I mean, your leg and all?

Yeah, I'm grand.

Are you gonna be all right?

And I thought... I mean, I've always|believed that... Well, I'm a journalist.

Nobody shoots the messenger.|I mean, a journalist doesn't get shot.

If the bullet had hit an artery,|you could have died.

So why do you do it?|Why do you take the risks?

Well, I'll give her this. It takes some balls|to shoot yourself in the leg for publicity.

- She should have shot herself in the balls.|- Bigger target.

- Shall we?|- Never liked this place anyway.

She can always use the insurance money|for a course in journalism.

Here. Check this out.

..bringing to the attention|of the public generally

a culture that exists in our society|that nobody knows anything about.

Your girlfriend's looking|very f***ing healthy.

Too bad the moron you hired|shot her in the leg.

Now the whole country's watching her,|thanks to you.

She's a real martyr, thanks to you, Coach.

Saint Veronica of the Sunday Independent.

Relax, will you? She's convinced|it was Gerry Hutch that done it.

You better pray she stays that way.

Come on.

Champagne - now.

These letters that you delivered.|What did you say in them?

There was one simple question|on each of the letters,

and it was|''Were you responsible for my attack?''

Mr Gregory?

What are you doing here? How did you get|past Security? You can't just barge in.

I'm sorry. Do you mind if I sit down?

A young woman wounded, on a crutch.|I'd be at a disadvantage. Take a seat.

I've come to apologise,|if I've got it all wrong.

All of you journalists have got it wrong.

You call these guys the Viper,|the Monk, the General.

You glorify them. They're not movie stars.

With respect, I've no option.

I can't name them.|Your libel laws won't let me.

Journalists are going to jail|for doing their job.

Liz Allen, she's facing imprisonment|for exposing these murderers.

I'm not getting involved|in your personal vendettas.

- I'm not here because I was shot.|- Now we know what you're not here for.

Look, I've been writing quite extensively,|in a balanced way, for the past 1 8 months.

You must have missed some of my articles.|On June 1 1th - I just want to clarify this -

I suggested extending|detention periods for drug offenders.

Then on July 1 6th I wrote about|tax officials - I mean, this is ridiculous -

saying that they are paid|only to record declared income,

not to worry about|whether it comes from drugs.

Then on July 23rd|I wrote about the garda.

They can seize drug proceeds but can't|hold them. How frustrating is that?

I don't need you to tell me the fight against|drugs has been hampered, crippled,

by the laws that we have at the moment.

- We're on the same side, Mr Gregory.|- We're on the same side?

I don't like your methods,|and I do not like your paper.

Yeah. It's a rag. But it's a popular rag.

Use it. Get your message out. Use me.

You've got to change these laws|that favour the criminals.

When do we get to the part where|you use me? Or is this just a charity offer?

Well, I'm looking into a guy called Gilligan.|Just take my phone calls.

Gilligan, did you say?

Friend of mine said he rents these|containers out. Seen him about much?

Slightly overweight, like? Bald guy?

We've never seen him here.

- Thanks for the smoke.|- Yeah.

Willy, do me a favour, will you? Find out|how long Tony Gregory'll be in his office.

Hiya. Look, no offence,

but these guys are not gonna talk to me|with the cops hanging about. All right?

- Right.|- Thanks. It's not working.

Gilligan's listed here as living|in a council flat on the dole.

That's just a mailing address.

Those lads go to meetings with their|probation officers in BMWs and Mercedes.

Having money isn't a probation violation.

It is if the assets are illegal.

Now, then I'd like to see a register|of ownership for the following properties,

and this corporation here,|with a copy of the shareholders reports.

And the same for these other companies|run by a man named John Gilligan.

I told you, this office is closed for lunch,

so unless you're on staff or with|the government, it's always closed to you.

Not a problem. I've got a friend|who'd like to talk to you.

Do you know Tony Gregory?

Oh, you're an angel.

- I'm just finishing up.|- You're a bad liar.

Oh, God.|You make the worst cup of coffee.

Here. I'll help you put Cathal to bed.

He's been asleep for an hour.

Of course.

Don't you ever just wanna keep him|in the house? Not let him out ever?

Yeah. But mostly I feel that way about you.

I've got him, Graham. I've got his name.

I'm gonna get this Gilligan bastard.

I am so close, you know. I'm this close.

Do you trust me?

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