Andy, Terry and Jason were broken men
and they left the firm soon after.
We never did find out who took the heroin,
and I guess there's some cunt still out there
praying that we never do.
So who else is going?
Just having a drink with one of Tony's mates. He's just got out.
What's his name?
Pat Tate. You don't know him.
Is Emma going?
No, she's staying at home like a good little girl.
What, is it full of tarts then?
Darling, you know I've only got eyes for you.
Fucking glad you made it, mate.
Didn't think you was coming.
Well, I had to service the old woman.
I had to give her an oil change. What you want me to say?
You don't have to say nothing, Carlton.
I just hope she didn't wear you out, mate,
'cause this place is wall-to-wall fanny.
Yeah, I can see that.
- Hey, Tony boy! - Hey!
Carlton, this here is Jim Gerenuk.
- How you doing, mate? - We call him Jimmy G.
Hey, it's a fucking great party, Tony.
- You're enjoying it? - Yeah, I'm doing all right.
- See you. - See you, man. Nice to meet you.
- Fucking Welsh cunt. - Yeah.
First thing first, mate. Get this up your hooter.
Yeah.
- Oi oi! - Oi, Tony!
This is Carlton. He's like my fucking brother.
Carl, this is Pat.
- Hello, mate. You all right? - Yeah, nice to meet you.
Don't mind us, we're just having a little reunion.
I was in the nick with these two... Darren, Mickey.
- Carlton. - You all right?
Hello, pal.
Everybody knew who Pat Tate was.
He was a legend in the Essex underworld.
After a "quiet meal"
down the Happy Eater in Basildon...
Pass the salt.
Now cradle my balls.
- You mean like that? - Yeah, but slow down a little.
Don't fucking rush it.
Oi. What's that?
- It's the bill, sir. - Yeah, I can see it's the fucking bill,
but I didn't ask for it, did I?
I just assumed that since you hadn't ordered anything
for the last 20 minutes that you didn't want anything else.
Who are you to assume you know anything about me?
Take it away.
What are you fucking looking at, nose ointment?
- What's this they've charged us for? - Show us.
- What's that? - It's the service charge.
That's very comical, son.
I thought only proper restaurants charged that.
You had the sit-down menus...
Oh, right. So if I stood up and ate,
- you'd have charged me less. - Well, it's policy.
Listen to me, you fucking lowlife jobsworth cunt.
For the last 20 minutes she's had her hand wrapped around my cock,
and every time I get into a rhythm
one of you fucking mugs walks over and puts me off.
Now maybe if I'd have shot my bolt,
I'd have paid the service, but you keep coming over here
- and interrupting me. - Sir, if you don't calm down,
- I'm going to have to ask you to leave. - Get your coat.
Oh, well done, babe.
Shut your fucking mouth!
You, fuck off... now. How much money you got in there?
- What? - How much money you got in there?!
- Pat, don't do that. - How much money you got in there, cunt?
Oh my God!
Shut your fucking noise and get in the car now.
Move!
I'm fucking warning you...
you say a fucking word, all of you get what that cunt got.
Would you mind stopping all that and stepping outside the car, sir?
Fucking hell.
Hiya.
He was gonna get 10 years for it.
10 years for stealing 800 quid.
That's less than 100 quid a year.
But you know what?
Pat had other plans.
Go! Go go!
The police tried to set up a roadblock,
but Pat was too quick. He slipped off to Spain
but was rearrested in Gibraltar visiting friends.
Cor! Fuck me, it's only Tom Cruise.
Mate, let me get a pen and paper,
I want to get your autograph.
My fucking bird would love that.
Hey, Craig, say hello to my man Carlton.
We've met.
You want to tell me something?
No. I'm sorry.
Tony, I didn't know he was a friend of yours.
- If I'd known... - Let me just say to you, fellow,
it ain't a good idea to go out drinking on an empty head, all right?
Are you looking to get hurt?
You've fucked up now, son.
Get the fuck out of here,
you fucking useless muggy cunt!
Fuck's sake!
You ever mouth off to Carlton Leach like that again,
and I swear I'll leave you where I fucking find you.
Now fuck off, cunt!
The thing about Craig was
he didn't exactly have the best start in life.
His mom had been knocking off some toy boy called John,
but she had to put a stop to it when her old man got her up the duff.
It would be an understatement to say the lad took it badly.
I did this to prove how much I love you.
I love you, baby. I done this for both of us.
Poor bastard never stood a chance.
He was a fuck up before he was even born.
Tony paid his mortgage, and in return Craig was his runner.
He took all the risks.
If Tony needed a couple of kilos of puff picked up
or a few hundred pills dropped off,
well, he'd just give him a call.
What the fuck are you cunts looking at?
Tony brought Pat into the firm
and gave him control over a couple of doors
and a legitimate job title to keep his probation officer sweet.
You know, Tony, you've got to forget charging
those scumbags to deal in your clubs.
I mean they pay you a poxy fucking grand a week
and they're nicking 12, 13 large over a weekend.
- That's the way it goes, mate. - No, it ain't. Fuck 'em.
You've got to get into this business proper, mate.
You've got to get them dealers to buy wholesale from you.
Listen. I've got all the contacts sorted out.
You buy the pills at a fraction of the selling price
and you knock them out to the dealers at £6 a pop.
I'm saying we can smash the life out of this and earn a fortune.
Rolfe, you mother's cunt!
- Where the fuck is he? - He's not here, Tucker.
It's truth or violence... your fucking choice.
He's not fucking here. I swear it.
Why not be original and be the first bitch in history to tell the truth?
You lying cunt!
Fucking cunt!
Come here, wanker! Come here!
What are you doing, Tony?
You could've fucking killed me!
I wish I had, you unreliable little cunt!
I've been calling you all fucking day
- and you don't answer! - I was fucked up...
- in bed! - I've had to make two handoffs myself.
Now what if I'd gotten fucking nicked?
I'm sorry, Tony. I'm sorry.
"I'm sorry."
You're a fucking waste of space, Craig.
You're off the fucking firm!
If you want your mortgage paid,
you can whistle out of your ass for it,
you fucking useless cunt!
The firm was Craig's life,
and without it he had no direction,
no purpose.
He wanted to be back inside,
no matter what.
Have a seat, sir. Fancy a puff of that?
No, have you got anything stronger?
I thought you were off the heavy stuff.
Yeah, I am. I have a little dabble now and again,
but basically I'm clean.
Are you sure? It's good stuff, pretty boy.
Don't call him pretty boy.
Why not? He's pretty.
Why don't you just fuck him then?
Look, mate. I don't want to get in the middle of some domestic, do I?
Oh, she's been on my case all day.
Just ignore her, then she might fuck off.
That's fucking charming. Look at the state of her.
All right, mate. Just get over it and let's do some business, yeah?
Right, here's your 20 kilos. So where's the money?
I ain't got no money.
Now why would I bother paying a fucking insect like you?
Who you calling a fucking insect?
What would you prefer?
Ex-scaghead two-bob junkie cunt?
Fucking cunt!
So fucking easy.
Fuck. Come here.
You ain't gonna get far
with 50 mils of Largactil in your beer.
I know you like drugs, Chris.
You've had a right touch.
'Cause tonight...
I'm gonna give you all the drugs
you'll ever need.
Don't look so upset, mate.
It's a freebie.
I know you're a little skint at the moment,
what with you owing Tony two grand.
What are you talking about?
You thought you were gonna swerve him,
but I'm here to fucking collect.
What have you given him?
Ketamine.
Hey, babe, get me a beer.
Yeah, sure. Does Chris want one?
Nah. He's had enough tonight.
Why are we stopping?
Just dropping Chris off, babe.
Yeah, but he doesn't live here, does he?
Get out there, you fat cunt.
You ain't gonna fucking believe this.
He's only gone and killed Chris.
You can say he's a fucking useless spastic shit-cunt,
but if that's not dedication, I don't know what fucking is.
He's a fucking liability, isn't he?
What's he doing going around murdering some kid for two grand?
Tony, it's unnecessary.
No, he's all right, Carl.
Anyway, I already told him he's back in the firm, mate.
# Baby, I need you here with me #
# because I'm trying... #
Along with working together,
me and Tony did a couple of little earners on the side.
Jimmy G had set up a deal for some stolen traveler's checks,
but after four canceled meets, Tony had got the hump.
My time ain't fucking free.
I've been up and down the A13 nine times for that cunt,
and he gobbed off to Emma about me fucking that Chinky bird.
She's been at me all fucking week.
Me and Craig are gonna punish the cunt.
You wanna come?
Look, if you're gonna slap the geezer, just fucking slap him.
What do you need me and Craig for?
'Cause we're gonna do a demolition job on the cunt, that's why.
Oh, look, leave it out, all right?
- You need to calm down, don't you? - You don't want in?
No. No, I don't want in.
- Oi, Jimmy. Hurry up, will you? - What's happening, Jim?
- All right, boys? - How are you, mate? You all right?
- Fuck. - Get the fuck back, Tony!
- I'll fucking kill you. - I'm fucking doing it! I swear to God!
Calm down! I'll fucking hit you!
Come on...
Get off me!
Tony, I fucking love you. Please don't hurt me.
Don't listen to him, Tony!
Think of all the agg he's cause you!
Yeah, all the agg you've caused me,
you fucking shit-cunt!
What do you think, Jimmy?
Craig, take the TV, video and hi-fi
and shove it in the back of the motor.
I'm fining you, Jimmy. Is that fair enough?
- Get off! - Burn him, Tone.
- Burn him. - No, don't burn me!
- Burn the cunt! Burn him, Tone! - No, please.
Tony, no!
Tony! Fuck you! Please! Oh God!
Oh, fuck.
Fuck you!
- No more, Tony. - "No more"? We've hardly even started.
Fuck you! Fuck you!
You cunt!
You bastard!
Craig, what you fucking let him get away for?
I had the CD player in me hands.
Fucking soppy cunt. You're rolling around
on the floor for two minutes, you fucking idiot.
Now get in the fucking motor.
- Yes? - Are you Jimmy's dad?
Yeah, why? What's this about?
- Is he in? - No, why? What's this about?
'Cause we're looking for him, you fucking Welsh cunt.
You fucking tell him to meet us face to face
or I'm gonna come in there
and start cutting your daughter's fingers off one at a time.
- You got that? - Yeah.
I said have you got that? Have you fucking got that?
Yeah, I got it.
Jimmy, don't! Please don't!
You fucking... you fucking cunt!
Oh my God! Oh my God!
Are you all right? Is the baby all right?
- Fucking Jimmy! - Pat!
You fucking cunt! Come back!
You fucking mug! I'm gonna kill you, you cunt!
- I'm gonna kill you! - Pat! Come back!
Yo, Jimmy! Where the fuck are you?
- Jimmy. - Jimmy!
Jimmy's fucking gone.
Jimmy's fucking dead!
Fucking hell! Run!
Fucking...
Fuck you! Come on!
Who's laughing now?
Welcome to the fucking neighborhood!
Evening.
This is supposed to be a hospital, isn't it?
What's the matter with you?
Do you want a line, Carlton?
You lads are taking the piss, huh?
Yeah, fucking right we are, mate.
Here, have a go with Sadie.
- That's Sandy. - Yeah, whatever.
I'm paying her a fucking three-a a day
and she likes to earn her money. Don't you, babe?
- Sucks a fucking blinding cock. - I sure do.
- No, you're all right, love. - Are you sure?
- It's no bother. - No thanks.
You remember Darren, don't you?
- Yeah, we met at your party. - Yeah.
- Yeah, I was with Mickey. - Yeah, the old geezer.
We was all in the nick together.
Yeah well, you'll be back in there if Old Bill turn up here,
see this place. Look at the state you're in.
There's fucking cocaine all over the bed, Tony.
Who in this hospital is gonna grass us up?
I still can't believe it was Jimmy that put you in here.
Yeah? Well, that no-good cunt's
gonna end up in a box when I get ahold of him.
Craig, visiting time is over. Get these others out of here.
- But we've been having so much fun. - Fuck off.
I'll see you later, Pat.
I'll give your best to Mickey.
Come on, babe. Come on, babe.
Here, Darren.
Don't forget to tell Mickey about that little bit of business.
Oh, yeah yeah yeah. Sweet.
Here, Carlton.
I need you to get Jimmy down here.
Tell him I want to sort things out and put an end to this,
but I need you to get him down here and we'll do the rest.
Meaning?
Meaning I'm gonna do him with this.
And I'll get rid of the gun and the body.
Oh, that's a fucking cracking idea.
You're just gonna go and shoot someone in a hospital?
Behave yourself, will you? You're on parole, Pat.
Yeah well, fuck all that. That wrong'un has gotta go
because he's made me and him look like a right pair of cunts.
All right. Well, you just get well
and I'll come see you in Chelmsford nick,
all right?
- Hello? - Carlton, it's Jimmy.
He said they'd rape my sister.
They threatened my dad.
They smashed up my house.
They call me 10 times a day, leaving threats on my answerphone.
Don't cry, son. All right?
It's not gonna help.
I can't believe they turned on me like that.
I shot at Pat because I knew...
I knew there was no other way.
They'll never stop now.
Never.
Until I'm dead.
Let me speak to Tony and I'll see what I can do.
It's too late for that. It's too fucking late for that.
There's only one way to make sure my family stays safe.
I wanna die.
You just slow down.
No, listen. I know you're as harsh as they are, Carlton,
but at least you're always fair. At least you're always fucking fair.
Tony doesn't have a set of rules you can live by.
I need you...
I need you to kill me.
You what?
I'm too scared to do it by myself.
Please...
protect my family...
and shoot me.
You can't ask me that. You can't ask anybody...
I don't know what else to do.
Well, you can start by putting the gun down.
And then you get yourself out of Essex
and you lay low for awhile.
You keep yourself out of fucking trouble
and I'll see what I can do. Do you hear me?
Well, it was bound to fucking happen.
The nurse came in and changed Pat's bed
while he was in surgery and found his gun.
Pat went straight back to prison on violation of his parole.
Couple of days later, Jimmy was picked up with an unlicensed firearm.
Although it wasn't the gun that shot Pat,
it was still enough to put him behind bars for a stretch.
Best place for him, really.
He'd be safer on the inside.
All right, Carlton?
Fuck me. What's this? You ain't on brown as well, are you?
- It's Nubain. - Looks like heroin to me.
- Well, it fucking ain't. - I can vouch for that, Carlton.
You? Don't make me laugh.
I think we'd better have a talk.
What's him and that walking clap doing here?
They make me fucking itch just looking at them.
Can't you just get along with them for me, Carl?
I put up with the cunt. That's about it.
Anyway, I thought you was knocking it on the head now that Pat's inside.
When was the last time you were clean, for fuck's sake?
Fuck clean. I can work 22 hours a day like this.
Yeah, but for how long?
You'll be fucking dead carrying on like that.
What's the story with this kitchen?
I thought you said that geezer would have it done by now.
- So did I. - He's taking a fucking piss, isn't he?
Come and check this out.
I had to teach him not to fuck with me, Carlton.
Definitely something wrong with you.
- Come on! - It had been almost a year
since Pat had gone back to prison.
Tony and Craig were becoming increasingly powerful
in the drug world while he was inside.
Pat wanted to get right back in with them.
You all right, son? You look a bit long in the boat.
Who fucked your mother? Tell us, we'll sort him out.
He's a cunt, ain't he?
How would you like to come on a little deal with us?
Be a good little earner. Tell him, Pat.
Mickey Steele's got a shipment coming in from Holland.
£300 a kilo. Not cheap, I know,
but he reckons there's no fucking chance
- of anybody getting pulled by customs. - And how do you know that?
Because they don't get some fucking mug to bring it in on the ferry.
They bring it across the channel on a powerboat.
They've done it fucking 100 times.
Now Mickey needs 80 large up front to get the gear.
He's in for £15,000. I'm in for £40,000.
Fucking £40,000? You ain't got 40 large, Pat.
Yeah, but I will in a couple of days, won't I?
- How's that then? - Tone, I told you twice.
I've got all these contacts sorted out.
You make me laugh. I didn't spend all my time in the nick wanking.
- Yes, you fucking did. - Yeah, you're right.
"Fucking let me out!"
I don't know. We'll see, all right?
Shut up. What's the matter with you?
Even the fucking dancing monkey's in for £6,000.
Tony, will you fill him in on the rest,
'cause I've got to try my luck with that little blonde tart over there.
- What do you reckon? - Filth, mate.
No, utter fucking filth.
With a little bit of luck, I might get a golden shower tonight.
So what do you reckon, mate?
No, I ain't got the dough, all right?
I've got nothing put aside.
You heard what Pat said,
you're guaranteed to double up your money on this.
Yeah well, his idea of a guarantee and mine are two different things.
I'm just trying to help you out, mate.
Yeah, I know. I appreciate it.
I don't want to fall out over this.
You're my brother, Carlton,
and I fucking love you.
It's good to know someone is looking out for me.
Yeah, always. You know that.
Do me a favor. just be careful of him.
- Get off me! - Go! Go!
Pat was at it again,
and even Tony could see he had become a liability.
In a drug-fueled rage,
he threw the one person who still stuck by him,
Kate Carter, out of his house.
She ran straight to Mickey Steele,
her closest friend while Pat was inside.
Then the dope deal went tits up
when it turned out the gear was moody.
You couldn't even burn it, let alone smoke it.
Mick, listen to me.
You couldn't con a 12-year-old with that gear.
It's shit and I'm down £40,000.
- I'll sort it out. - You fucking will, you slippery cunt,
or I'm gonna come around there and sort you out.
- Jesus Christ, Pat. - Jesus Christ?
Jesus fucking Christ? You'll be screaming that, you mug,
when I come around there and do you with this blade,
you fucking no-good cunt!
Pat may have been a fucking loon,
but this time he was ranting for a good reason.
He'd only gone and borrowed £40,000 off
the most feared criminals in Essex...
the Hexell brothers. The deal was that
in two weeks time he'd pay them back £50,000.
Look, he's been to Amsterdam two or three times,
this time he lost the gear.
I swear on my fucking life I wouldn't dream about having you two over.
Mickey Steele's done this to all of us.
Mickey Steele's your fucking mate. Why would he do that?
Let me get ahold of him, I'll bring him in front of you,
I'll put a blade to his throat and when you're satisfied, I'll do him.
They gave him a month to come up with the goods.
And after a lot of agg, Darren Nicholls and Mickey Steele
went to Amsterdam and recovered the money.
Pat and the boys may have got their dough back,
but that was it. They hadn't made a bean.
They'd had their time wasted,
and Pat, he was still £10,000 short of what he owed the brothers.
It's fucking lovely.
Yeah, a nice bit of kit.
Are you gonna help a girl in trouble, Mickey?
You can stay here as long as you need.
Don't worry about it.
Pat is shouting his mouth off about you to anyone who'll listen.
He said your operation's a joke
and that you ripped him off.
He's a junkie.
He's a fucking steroid freak.
And that don't worry you?
He's out of control.
He says he's gonna kill you.
He's all mouth.
He's a fucking idiot.
I don't know, Mickey.
His threats seem pretty thorough to me.
Look at me.
I don't have a home to go to
and my child
is staying at my mom's.
What sort of a situation is that, Mickey?
- Do you trust me, Kate? - Of course I do.
Then listen to me.
I'm old school,
been around the block a few times.
Mugs like Pat Tate come around every once in a while.
But you know something?
What?
The loud ones never last, Kate.
He'll get what's coming to him.
# Move your body #
Yeah, can I have a 12", please?
What? What do you mean you don't do four toppings?
- It's a pizza shop. - Give me the phone.
What's your problem, mate?
Well, why can't we have all four fucking toppings?
Because it's not on the menu, sir.
What are you talking about, "on the menu"?
We're talking about cheese, you cunt.
Listen. Deliver the fucking pizza she wants,
or I'll come down there and fucking open you up.
Sir, this phone delivery line
is actually only for people over the age of 12.
Now if you'd like to calm down
and get your mommy or dad to phone back,
I'll be happy to send you a pizza.
- Who am I talking to? - My name is Roger Spooner, sir.
- I'm the manager. - Well, Rog,
you do yourself a favor, mate,
'cause this is your last chance for a peaceful night.
Deliver the fucking pizza she wants
or your mom and dad will be down at the morgue at 4:00 in the morning
identifying your body. Do you got me, cunt?
Where's Roger fucking Spooner?
- Where is he? - That's me. Can I help you?
Fucking mug me off down the phone line, you cunt?
If I asked you now for four toppings,
you'd give them to me, you cunt, wouldn't you?
- Yeah yeah. - You'd give them to me, wouldn't you?
- Yes! - Okay.
Anyone got a fucking problem with what I just done? Eh?
You've got a fucking problem?
Fat bollocks, you've got a fucking problem?
Eh?
Pat's continuing war with the fast-food industry
resulted in the geezer giving a detailed statement to the police.
Come morning, he found out who Pat was
and suddenly pizza boy had a bad case of amnesia.
Pat, Tony and Craig were out of control.
They just did whatever they fucking liked.
They robbed who they wanted
and destroyed any cunt that got in their way.
While you're doing that, I'm gonna take the vegetables.
I've peeled them and I'm roughly chopping
the swede, the carrots and the parsnips.
Of course everything's going to be blended up in the mixer at the end.
If you prefer a chunky soup...
That will be your boyfriend.
...and then you can still have the chunky vegetables
left in your soup.
It ain't for me.
- Hello? - Carlton.
Sledge, what do you want?
Have you seen the telly this morning?
Not much. She's got some bollocks on here.
Well, try the news. I'm serious, mate.
I think something might have happened to Tony and the boys.
The bodies of three men
have been discovered in a Range Rover
on a farm in Rettendon in Essex.
It's thought that these were victims
of a brutal gangland slaying.
The police are not divulging much information at present,
but we do know that all three men were gunned down
somewhere between 6:00 p.m. and 12:00 p.m. last night.
We hope to come back to this later in the bulletin.
There were serious clashes between the prime minister
and the leader of the opposition...
- Hello, Paul. It's Carl. - Hello, Carl.
- Have you seen the news? - No, not yet. Why?
Can you pop around Emma's? I've been trying to get ahold
of them all morning. No one's answering. It's just engaged.
- What's going on? - Well, I don't know, mate.
Just do me a favor. Just go around there and give me a call.
- On me way. - All right, mate. Ta.
This is giving me the fucking creeps, this is.
Hello, mate. It's me again.
Listen, mate, can you give me a call back, please?
Well, I'm just getting a bit worried.
So just give me a call back as soon as you get this message.
All right, mate. Ta.
Hey.
- Are you all right? - No, I'm no all right.
I can't get ahold of no cunt.
Something's happened.
Babe, you're scaring me.
Back to the murders in Rettendon.
The police have announced
that there will be a news conference later this evening,
when it's expected that the names of those murdered will be released.
Carlton. Carl?
- Yeah, go on. What's happening? - Emma's fine.
Tony didn't come back last night, but she ain't worried.
- Hold on, mate. - Paul?
Fucking hell, the Old Bill's just turned up.
Emma!
- Paul, talk to me. - Emma!
I'm gonna have to go. I don't know what's going on down there.
Everything's fine as far as I know, but not here.
I'm gonna have to go. Laters, mate.
Police have tonight released the names
of the three men murdered in Rettendon
on the night of the 6th of December.
The victims were 38-year-old Anthony Tucker,
37-year-old Patrick Tate,
and 26-year-old Craig Rolfe.
It's believed that all three men had gangland connections.
When the police informed Tony's dad of his son's death,
he dropped dead of a heart attack
right there in front of them.
After the tears came the questions:
Who murdered Tony, Pat and Craig that night?
- Evening, lads. - Before you start, he wasn't speeding,
the car's not stolen, the fucking tax disc is in date, all right?
I've got some information I'd like to share with you,
ask you a few questions... very informal.
What, now? We're in kind of a hurry... big family dinner.
This won't take long,
but it's dangerous out on these main roads
with this weather. Follow the car.
Whoa whoa whoa. We ain't got to do nothing for you.
No, you don't, but I could always get a search warrant,
search the three of your houses tonight. Really fuck your evenings up.
You'll be on your way in 15 minutes.
- No, Office... - Shut up, shithead. Lead the way.
Sorry about this, lads.
Thanks for the cooperation.
Yeah, blah blah, fucking blah.
What's so important that you had to speak to us tonight?
Trust me, you'll like this.
Why'd you have to fucking bring us all the way down here for?
The traffic... it's dangerous.
Oi. You on fucking drugs?
You got any?
The way we saw it,
the police had stronger motives than anyone.
The rumor was we were all under observation,
so how the fuck could a hit go down right under their nose?
It could have been revenge for several high-profile Ecstasy deaths,
or it could've been they were just getting rid
of three of the most dangerous drug dealers from the southeast.
Either way, it was a paranoid first few days.
for anyone who knew the three was a suspect.
Over the next few days, silence fell on gangland
as hundreds of people were questioned.
One theory was gaining in credibility.
Two names just kept coming up.
- Fucking hell. - Put your hands on the fucking dash!
Whoa! What's this about?
The brothers want a word with you, Pat.
- Tell your bloke to follow that car. - I ain't going...
Makes no difference whether you drive or I drive.
- Do you get the picture? - It's a pretty gory picture at that.
You boys have become a fucking nuisance.
We heard about your little fit down at the pizza parlor, Pat.
We spunked in our pants.
Then we remembered how much money you owe us.
Listen. I'm trying to get all your dough back now.
Whatever problem you've got with Pat
has got fuck-all to do with me.
Fuck off, Tucker. It's got everything to do with you.
You're all involved. All fucking out of control,
ripping off every cunt from here to Hounslow.
Well, it stops tonight. Shoot that cunt.
Please don't shoot me.
Come on, take it like a man, son.
Ain't that bad. All be over in a moment.
- Fuck you, you fucking cunt! - You next, Tucker.
But these were just paranoid theories
being handed out left, right and center.
The newspapers started printing any old shit
from small-time crooks and wannabes.
Apparently half of Essex was an expert on the subject.
And what's this then?
- I have a lot of young lads... - Six months later
Darren Nicholls was nicked with 10 kilos of puff in his boot.
Before anyone thought much about it,
he was busy grassing to the Old Bill about the triple murders.
# Walk away, walk away #
# Walk away now #
# Walk away, walk away #
# Walk away now... #
Mickey Steel has fucked up everything.
I've spent years sweetening up these fucking contacts.
He's made me look like a right mug
and us look like we don't know what we're doing.
I've told everyone I know what a fucking cunt he is.
Okay, shut the fuck up.
He's heading towards our table right now.
Tony, Pat, how's it going?
So what have you got to tell us that's so fucking important?
I've got something coming up...
something big... so big it's gonna make
that last deal look like pocket money by comparison.
Yeah? I hope by that you mean pocket money
and not pocketing our fucking money.
- What's happening, chaps? - Sit down, shut your mouth and listen.
I've been hired by this Dutch firm to do a job,
a job that involves my plane and a shitload of white.
How much?
I'm meant to be bringing over 30 kilos of Columbian pure,
land my plane in a field near Rettendon.
30 fucking kilos?
- How much is that worth? - It depends on the quality.
It's the bollocks. They've already paid me £50,000 up front.
The drugs are standing by in Holland.
They're all set to go. I'm meant to be bringing it over
in the next few days when the weather improves.
- So what's the plan, mate? - Do what you two do best...
rob the cunts.
I'll tell you where and when I'll be landing the plane.
There'll be two others on board with me.
You steam in really strong,
stick guns in our faces...
bish bash... pinch the gear.
Simple as that. What do you reckon?
Well, I won't kid you... if that gear is proper,
we've got to be talking about £100 mill.
- Exactly. - So what do you want out of it?
Bust it up three ways.
A third? You're having a fucking laugh, ain't you?
That's fine. That's a fair deal.
# And did you think that I'd stay #
# In your destructive life? #
# And did you think I'd be okay #
# And someday be your wife? #
# And if I'm here, I live in fear #
# Why'd you go so far? #
# You can see that it's me... #
We'll have to make this look convincing though.
They can't know you're in on it, Mickey.
We'll have to fuck you up a bit, maybe knock a few teeth out.
I can handle a couple of broken teeth for 10 kilos.
This is the big time, Carl.
We're talking numbers with shitloads of zeros on the end.
You're talking like it's already in the bag.
Mickey's assured us it's all going ahead.
- He's already been paid. - Yeah, he's been paid, you ain't.
- Trust me, it's on. - Just be careful, will you?
Pat's running around the whole of fucking Essex shouting his mouth off
and if this gets back to you, you're fucked.
Relax, mate.
You worry too much. It's all good.
I want to tell you something.
I'm surrounded by a lot of people,
but I know they just want a piece of me.
With you it's different.
You just want to be my friend.
You know, you're the only one I fully trust.
- Same. - I want to do something for you.
I'm gonna give you £30,000 out of this.
Don't be silly. You don't owe me nothing.
I know, mate. I also know you'd do the same for me if you had a deal
- like this going down. - Yeah, of course. You know that.
I'm gonna give you money for two reasons, Carlton.
Firstly, you're broke.
All right. What's the other reason?
You never asked me for a fucking thing.
Things are gonna quiet down a lot in the new year.
When this deal goes down,
I'm going into semiretirement.
Do you know what?
That's not such a bad idea.
I'm gonna slip off, all right?
I promised Denny I'd have a family dinner tonight.
- Sounds good, mate. - Yeah.
Yeah, I just fancy a quiet one for a change.
- And thanks. - No worries, mate.
- All right. - Love you. See you, mate.
- Hello? - Hey, Darren.
What are you up to this evening?
- Why? What's up? - Me and Jack need a favor.
Tony, it's Pat. I just got off the phone with our pal Mickey.
- Are we on for it? - No, too much snow on the ground,
but he reckons we're on for the day after tomorrow.
- I can't fucking wait. - Tone, listen up.
Mickey wants to show us exactly where he wants to land his plane.
So are you and Rolfe up for a little meet later?
It's cold, isn't it?
You should've put a coat on then.
Well, I didn't realize the plan was
to sit in the motor and freeze to death.
The plan is we wait for Pat to turn up,
then we drive to where Mickey is landing the plane.
Tell me why again.
Mickey wants you there in the background,
just to make sure everything's all right.
Pat's been unpredictable lately,
in case you haven't fucking noticed.
Listen. I've been doing a lot of thinking about all this.
Why don't we nick all the gear and do Mickey with the others?
I thought he was your pal.
That was before he fucked us over, monkey boy.
I got no loyalty to that cunt no more.
He's the only one who can link us to this robbery.
I'm game.
Okay, let's go.
Right. Drive down the road about half a mile.
You sit tight and wait for my call.
- Where's your phone? - It's in me pocket.
You won't hear the fucking thing ring in there, will you?
Put it on the dashboard.
I ain't gotta ask you if that thing is turned on, have I?
Of course it's turned on. What do you think I am?
Are you sure?
I thought it was on.
Darren, I'm fucking speechless.
I don't know why Mickey puts up with you.
You're a useless cunt.
- Fat cunt. - What?
- What did you say? - Nothing.
And don't go playing that fucking radio either.
It's vital you hear that phone ring.
Can I stick the tape on?
Tape deck, radio... what is the difference?
What's the long-range forecast looking like, mate?
Well, the weather seems to be improving at last,
so I reckon we'll be up for it in the next couple of days.
- 48 hours. - Uh-huh.
48 fucking hours and then our lives are changing!
Craig, you're gonna have to chuck a left up here, all right?
Mick... I've got to say it, son... I fucking love you.
No, I swear, I fucking love you.
You know, that's not what I've been hearing around town, Patrick.
Well, forget all that fucking bollocks now,
'cause we're going to hit the big time.
We are gonna be fucking caked.
Left up here, is it, Mick?
Yeah, that's right, Craig... a left.
Hello?
Hello, babe.
No. Of course I miss you.
You are such a lovely girl and I don't deserve you.
You know that. Do me a favor,
give me a bell back later. I'm with some people.
What?
No, I'm just with Tony and the boys.
Yeah.
Listen. Of course I do.
I love you. Is that good enough?
I love you.
Call me later. Bye.
There's a gate up ahead, Mick.
Do you want me to open it?
No, it's okay, son. I'll get it.
- Shut up, Pat. - No, please!
Mickey! Please, no!
Mate... please, mate.
Please, we're mates.
We've worked far too hard to let a cunt like you fuck everything up.
You take it. Take it all.
What? The 30 kilos of Columbian pure?
You soppy cunt.
You soppy, greedy, gullible cunt.
I'm out, Jack.
- Yup? - Come and get us.
That didn't take long.
Pat squealed like a pig.
Let's fuck off.
Where's Mick?
He's coming.
Turn that fucking light out now.
All right, Darren. Let's go.
This was Darren Nicholl's testimony of what happened.
The only people who really know are in the ground.
It may be that the shooting has occurred
over higher drug dealers
trying to find a greater position of power.
Daddy!
# Heaven knows what life may bring #
# There could be blue skies through the rain #
# And I know I must find my way... #
- Don't listen to him, baby. - # Come on, help me #
# Release my soul today #
# Won't you help me, help me through this pain? #
# It cuts like a knife #
# Burns like acid rain #
# Come on, help me #
# Help me release my soul #
# But nobody knows which way #
# Or which road to go #
# Heaven knows what life may bring #
# Never feel it till you feel the acid sting #
# Help me to release my soul today #
# Help me, help me #
# Help me, Lord, Lord #
# Help me, Lord, Lord... #
There's not a lot of old men in my game.
Paranoia is what keeps me alive.
I'm taking no chances.
Every room in my house is armed.
You break in and I'll bathe in your fucking blood.
And if one day my time is up
let me say to you:
If you think I'm just gonna sit
and beg for my life...
well, then you're some sort of cunt.
# Heaven knows what life may bring #
# There could be blue skies through the rain #
# And I know I must find my way... #
# So come on, help me #
# To release my soul today #
# Won't you help me, help me through this pain? #
# It cuts like a knife #
# It feels like acid rain #
# Help me, help me #
# To release my soul #
# But nobody knows which way #
# Or which road to go #
# Heaven knows what life may bring #
# Never feel it till you feel the acid sting #
# Help me to release my soul today #
# Help me, help me #
# Help me, Lord, Lord #
# Help me, Lord, Lord. #
# Hold on, hear what I say #
# Is a man on a mission #
# Just a man in a cage? #
# If we can hold on #
# To what we believe #
# All stick together #
# Be there for each other #
# Hold on #
# Hold on, hear what I say #
# Is a man on a mission #
# Just a man in a cage? #
# If we can hold on #
# To what we believe #
# All stick together #
# Be there for each other #
# Hold on. #