Clean Sweep

Maggie! Come on!

But I'll hunt you. I'll catch you.

Mum?

What? Well, what's wrong? What happened? What is it?

It's gone.

What's gone?

The blood.

Oh.

Oh, sweetheart, don't worry.

It'll be back.

You'll be OK.

I don't like changing.

Look at me. Change is a part of life.

You OK?

You're fine.

Go. I'll be down in a minute.

Here we go.

Jeez. Could she dress more like a sex worker?

Jason, shut up. What?

OK, O'Neill, take him in. The driver.

- And get his phone, yeah? - Copy that.

Here we go.

Mariama? Mariama? Gardai.

It... it's not her. It... it isn't her.

Fuck.

Leave that. Hands off.

Oh, fuck it.

Can you help us find Mariama?

Fuck.

Niall! Niall! Niall! Niall! Niall! Niall!

Only a few more left. Come on!

Let's go! Come on, Niall! You're nearly there! Let's go!

Let's go, Niall. Let's go. Let's go, Niall. Let's go.

Whoo! Come on, Derek!

Hey, victory! What's happening?

Let's go get waffles. What?

Mum said we're going out for breakfast.

Waffles. What's the occasion?

No occasion.

It's just your dad's working and I'm not cooking.

OK, out of your pjs.

Last one dressed is a rotten egg! Let's go!

No, not fair!

Bunch of fucking mentallers.

Derek, you coming?

Derek, if you're coming with us, you better be ready in 10.

Go. Go. Go. Go. Go.

Right, fuck's sake. Jesus. Who's in charge?

Calm down. Everyone's alright.

We're looking for this woman. Have you seen her?

Mariama? Is Mariama here?

Who's in charge?

Turn the music off. Hey, Hey. Are you in charge?

No. It's a client.

Just us. No-one in charge.

Have you seen this woman? Mariama.

No, no, not in a day or two. Fuck.

O'Neill, take him away.

Explain to him the Sexual Offences Act 2017

and why he's gonna need a top solicitor.

Alright, lads, off you go.

Let these young women put on some clothes

without your leering eyes, please.

Where are your clothes?

No clothes. Only if we have date.

The bastards took their clothes?

I'm sure they took their passports too.

Fuck. I'll be outside.

OK, sorry.

Here, please.

It's OK. OK, girls, come on. Let's go.

You're alright.

Mum, you know Emma? Yeah.

She said at her old school in Wisconsin,

on the last day of school, they had a huge food fight.

It was raining bananas. It's hilarious.

That's terrible. It's cause they never had a famine.

It's funny. If you say so.

I'm starving. Same.

Oh, what is it? Oh, nothing.

Well, it's the Mohans. Ah.

Katie Ryan, what are the odds?

Your Jason any closer?

Any closer to...?

To the Glencara murder?

God, it's scary-like when the guards can't solve crimes

in their own backyard.

Yeah, just trying to enjoy Sunday breakfast with the family, so.

Our food's come! Ah, thank God.

Chocolate special with rashers.

Strawberry supreme? Frozen edition.

Ooh, that looks good.

Oh, to be able to eat all those calories.

Soon enough, it'll head straight to the hips.

Jesus Christ, Katie, let her enjoy her waffle in peace.

Go on, Cait.

Uh, madness? Ah, that's me.

Thank you. And one Mexicano.

So, I got two hot chocolates. And two coffees.

Uh, double shot for me and a single shot for the boy.

You're not afraid it'll stunt his growth?

Have you seen him?

Charles Byrne had loads of coffees in his childhood.

Charles Byrne?

Yeah, the Irish Giant.

He stood 2 metres 31.

He was practically raised on coffees.

Right.

Well, in that case, get the boy a double shot.

Ireland could use another giant.

We'll let you go. Yeah.

Well, see you all again soon.

Ah, you will.

Come on, darling. Drive safe.

Billy, you have two left feet.

Come on.

Is that craic about the Irish Giant drinking coffee true?

Fair play, Niall.

To the Irish Giant.

Slainte.

I'd love to administer a little hurley justice

to the bastard who set this up.

That's sweet.

There'll be three more right behind to take their place.

Yeah, bloody whack-a-mole. Whack-a-male.

Um, hold on a minute.

Can I...? Let... It's alright. Let me see your thigh.

Uh, can we not do this at the station?

Can I...? Let me... Can I see? Sorry.

That's the same tattoo.

What is this? What does it mean?

You don't know or you won't say?

You can tell us.

She's got one too. Can I...?

Hold still.

Got it. Thanks.

What the fuck have we stumbled into?

Listen, Derek, I know I've been a bit short with you lately.

But I really appreciate you looking out for your brother.

Niall's a bit off, but them Ryans are right shites, so.

Hey, do you want to bring your wan to your Uncle Kev's?

Who?

What's her name? Doireann.

What the fuck are you talking about?

Well, don't speak to me... Well, there's no wan.

Why are you always sticking your nose in my business?

Sorry for caring. Well, watch over your own kids.

Do you know what? I am done!

I'm done with your attitude and your shite talk.

Go stay with Luke or your fucking mum or whoever will have you!

Fuck me!

Derek, where are you going? Stuff it.

Why is Derek so mean?

Irritability is the most common side effect from caffeine.

Put your seatbelts on.

During his three short days here on Earth,

he touched many lives and was loved deeply by family and friends.

His life was a brief gift to us.

Let's hope he's a gift to us as well, Ma'am.

Saint Mary's is in Luton. It's on my way north.

We'll take two cars.

Philip was born on March 11th, 1973,

and passed in the arms of his mother.

This is class.

Must have been loved.

Philip Paul Whelan, died March 14, 1973.

Lads, this one will work for Charlie.

Makes him, uh, 26.

Can I shave a few years off my life too?

Jesus, Mags, the poor little shite

was only three days old, so.

It don't feel right-like, stealing from a baby.

Bad karma.

Your karma's already complete shite.

This poor kid didn't get a life. You're giving him a chance at one.

Giving our baby a chance at one.

What? You're preggers?

Whose is it?

You didn't tell your best mate?

Well, fuck the both of youse.

Kenny. Kenny.

Jesus, Maggie!

He'll be back.

Look, maybe we should just talk to Vance.

Tell him his brother was like that when we found him.

For fuck's sake, Charlie.

Do you know what? Forget Whelan's name.

Maybe you can take his balls.

I have to find mine now. Look in the 1980s.

Nothing past '84.

You'll get arrested for knocking up a 14-year-old.

Here he is, Ames - Philip Whelan.

Stealing the identity of a dead child ...

that's what I call bad karma, Ma'am.

I call that a silly notion.

Baby Whelan died in 1973.

Let's assume Lynch and Gallagher are close in age.

Start at '73 and go 5 years on either side.

Yes, Ma'am. But we don't know if this is the right bone yard.

They were in a hurry to disappear.