Most thoughts are memories.
And memories deceive.
The walk.
The way he smoked a cigarette.
Laughed.
The dead are dead.
He's gone.
What's left to ever say he was here at all?
Not much.
Fuck off.
You heard from Will?
Not recent.
Months now.
- Used to ring regular. - I thought he'd be back.
He won't be back.
That's a wicked waste.
- Changed. - Well, he would, wouldn't he?
Too long alone does that to you.
I told him. I said, "you go out there with the pig fuckers..."
here will do.
Business or pleasure?
Bit of both.
If Will knew you were turning that stuff, he'd tread on you.
Be good.
Give him my regards if he rings.
Yes?
- I hear you're giving money away. - Davey, you're late.
Devastating.
- Did you get my message? - I'm here.
I was at school with her.
- Money. - She'll do.
- Who's that? - Some yob.
- How much? - One and a bit.
- A bit? - Eleven.
Nice?
- Nine and a half. - Please.
Okay.
You got any brown?
There's another 500.
Are you interested?
I was told you liked money.
It's a cunt's drug.
Boo.
Get him out! Get him out!
Prick.
Please.
You move, he'll have your bastard arm off!
What do you want? Who are you?
I've got a robert calgani in the van.
I got this address from his driving license.
Drunk? Is he drunk?
He's been hurt.
Quiet, barrick. Here, boy.
I seen you around.
You work in the forest.
He should be in hospital.
He should be back in prison.
Don't go.
Not yet.
You from london?
I been there.
Twice.
Frightened me.
It can do that.
Coffee?
Prefer a brandy.
So this modeling then,
good money?
I know a boy who got 20 k for five days' work in japan.
I do love to travel.
Best hotels.
Best food.
All the extras.
Snake bites to the waist?
I don't understand you half of the time.
They love a bit of rough, your sort.
You are not as rough as you act.
What you doing?
I've lost my lighter.
You sure?
I had it in the wine bar.
These should ease the pain.
What do you wanna do?
Go up...
...go down...
...or sideways?
Hey, taxi!
- Brixton. - Brixton?
- Yeah. - Hysterical.
What?
Fuck you very much, mate!
Taxi!
Cunt.
Brixton. Water lane.
Sweet.
Turn it up.
Are you licensed?
Yep.
You're not licensed.
Bit conspicuous, isn't it?
I mean, an orange cab?
How do you mean, "orange"?
The cab.
Is it?
You never noticed?
No.
Fuck.
Fucks! Fucking gearbox! Don't...
fucks! Shit, shit!
Listen. Sorry, cap, but you're gonna have to leg it.
No sweat, mate.
I'm halfway home.
New york.
- What? - Yeah.
Yeah, fuck it, I'm gonna go to new york.
Yeah, get out of this fucking little shitty retread rat hole.
Yeah.
Fuck!
No!
You okay, son?
Are you all right, lad?
Davey. Snake snot, where you been?
- Catch you later, c, yeah? - Yeah, hold up.
Dave.
Oh, god. Don't you never sleep?
Where's that...? What's-her-name? Blondie. Isn't she with you?
Will!
I've...
I've gotta let you go, Will.
I'm sorry.
This new man, he's asked for your details.
You've no cards, no numbers.
It's all numbers nowadays. Fucking computers!
Don't worry about it.
I'll finish this off. Clear up.
Well, I can't afford to lose you. I told him that.
But he don't listen, does he? He's not a listener.
Anyway, your money's waiting for you.
Bit extra for you. A bonus.
Will...
...last night, was there someone up here?
Kids. In a car.
There's blood up there.
When I got there, they were just leaving.
Did you get their number?
No.
Hi, it's sheridan. Don't forget the party tonight.
I've got someone lined up, an old school friend.
She's knitting a jumper, and she needs an ounce of wool.
Don't be late, Davey. You're always late.
Still in your feather?
It's mickser. What, it's half 5.
You still haven't rung me.
You still on for ronnie's tonight? Terence blanchard. Be a blinder.
Ring me, you lump!
She should listen to her mum, yeah? It's like she's right.
- I know. - It's no good.
- She does it all the time. - Yeah.
- What, girls? - Wanker!
Hello, mrs. B.
Sorry to disturb you. Is he in?
Well... well, he was.
- Oh, you've seen him? - About 5.
- What, this evening? - No, this morning.
He come in just as I was going to work.
I've been ringing.
- He might have somebody up there. - Who, cathy?
Cathy?
Oh, I get so muddled. Is she the little blondie?
He's a randy little devil.
Davey?
You up there?
You decent?
Where is he, bird?
Birdie, birdie.
What you doing sitting in the dark?
Davey?
Davey? Davey! Davey!
Davey! Davey! Davey! Davey!
No, no! Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap! No! No!
Frank! Frank! Frank!
- Get up here now! - What's wrong?
Get frank up here now!
Davey?
- Frank? - Outside, in the car.
Davey, you all right, lovey?
There's been an accident.
- That's blood. - Blood, yeah.
He's gonna be all right, ma.
He's just cut hisself.
- Please get frank, eh? - I'll get a towel.
No, no, no, we got towels.
- I'll get a blanket. - No, no. Just get frank!
Outside, in the car, please!
Everything's gonna be all right, eh?
Oh, god.
Oh, no.
Oh, Davey. No, no, no!
No, no!
No! No!
Table eight, josie.
This is hot.
- Top up? - Why not.
Where are you going?
I don't know.
That sounds about right.
Can I come with you?
- We're not open yet, sir. - Where is she?
- Who are you? - You're new.
- Why don't you leave a message. - Why don't you shut your mouth.
Hello, mickser.
I gotta find Will.
It's been three years.
Bring a brandy.
He still writes to you.
He used to.
The last letter was 11 months ago.
We can't bury Davey without Will there.
You may have to.
Why'd he do it?
- Was he selling drugs? - No, he was just playing at it. It was...
...like everything else.
Just dabbling.
Just looking for the soft money.
He was my fifth gear.
What am I gonna do?
What am I gonna do now?
I loved him too.
But I can't help you. I'm sorry.
I don't know where Will is.
Why did he go?
He had a breakdown.
That's shit!
Will Graham was the hardest man I've ever known.
And I've known a few, believe me.
I'm gonna find him.
He's got to know.
Why?
Forty of the usual, ali, please.
Eight-fifty.
That's a rascal of a suit.
What color do they call that?
Eight-pounds-50, please.
Robbery.
When's the funeral?
- We don't know yet. - No, no. Course not.
I understand.
After all...
...funerals are for family.
I'm looking forward to seeing Will.
How long's it been?
Three years?
Take next left.
Things are changed.
Wouldn't you say?
Left! I said, left.
- That was left. - I meant "right."
When I say "left," I mean "right."
Things have changed a lot in three years.
Yeah.
"Yes." not "yeah." yes.
I hope Will understands that.
We can't find him.
So I hear.
I'll leave it to you.
I quite like roses.
Pull over.
Filthy habit.
It's Will.
I'll ring back.
Davey?
Davey, are you there?
This is silk.
Yeah, I'll bring a suitcase for the good stuff, eh?
It's almost new.
What we gonna do with all this stuff?
Well, we'll sling the old gear, and I'll...
I'll keep the rest round my place until Will tells us
what he wants done with it.
I'm sorry I had to let the flat.
Come here.
Don't be daft.
Davey?
Are you there?
I'll keep calling.
Will? Will?
Fuck it.
It's sheridan.
Still in your feather?
It's Will.
I'll ring back.
Davey?
Davey, are you there?
If you're there, pick it up.
Davey?
I'll keep trying.
Come on, blow your candles out. Blow your candles out.
Will, you get over here. You should be over here with him.
- One, two, three. - Come on.
Always hiding behind that camera.
- Speech! - Speech. Come on, give it your best.
- Thanks to Will. - Thank you, Will.
- Thanks to Will. - For everything.
- As always. - You're there all the time...
...for all these lovely people.
Here's to you, Will. Here's to you.
I'll do it. I'll do it. Guys, come on.
- Ah, lovely. - Yeah.
Yes?
I'm looking for Davey.
Davey?
You still got that little rat on a rope you call a dog?
Will. Will, I didn't know it was you.
Where is he?
Davey.
Out?
All right!
Who the fuck are...?
Will?
How did...?
Oh, Will.
Oh, mate, I don't know what to say.
Get away from there now, before I call the police!
I'm seeing the coroner tomorrow.
That was fucking horrible.
They was talking about Davey like he was a lump of meat.
Was there anything that sounded odd to you?
- Odd? - About what happened.
No one knows what happened.
It's a fucking mystery, isn't it?
It's rather technical.
You may not understand some...
how do I arrange an independent postmortem?
- Mr. Graham, I do understand your... - through my lawyer?
It was an incontrovertible suicide.
It's little billy. He's back.
I've just seen him. I've just seen Will Graham.
You sure?
I wasn't at first, but then he went in that banged up old club of his.
Looks like a fucking pikey.
He's come down, frank. He's nothing.
Nothing to worry about.
Who's worried?
Take me to the shop.
Then find al.
Long time.
We thought we'd lost you. Fuck me, look at you.
You been sleeping rough?
Scruffy bastard. Life rough, mate?
Fit as fuck, I'd say. Lost a bit of weight, Will?
That's living out there with all them fucking carrot crunchers
that does that.
I knew you'd be back one day.
What can a friend say, mate?
- I mean... - he was a lovely kid.
I still can't believe it.
- Not Davey. Not that. - Why?
I wanna know why.
No bugger knows, Will.
No one.
That's a fact, as it happens.
What was he into?
He was always into something.
Well, he didn't owe no one.
I mean, no one was putting the hand on him,
if that's what you mean.
- Everyone loved him, Will. - Tell me.
- There's nothing to tell. - Don't lie to me.
He's dead. What does it matter?
It matters.
Of course it fucking matters.
I wanna know why he died the way he died.
I wanna know why he sat in a bath of cold water for 12 hours...
...in his clothes...
...and then cut his throat.
I want the fucking truth now. Talk to me.
He was dealing.
- A bit of coke. - Nothing naughty.
Look, everybody's into a little bit of this and that. They're all doing it.
He's right. I mean, Davey played at it.
You know Davey. You know what he was like, Will.
Was he using?
He had a smoke once or twice. That's the truth, Will.
How much was he turning?
There was nearly 11 grand in that flat.
You don't get that sort of money dealing the odd gram.
He was webbed up with all the beautiful people.
They have more money than sense.
He stiffed them a little.
They didn't have a clue what they were buying.
They get off on a line of powdered fucking rat shit.
That night, he was working.
Eddy dalton gave him a lift. Holland park. I don't drink.
Something happened.
I wanna know what.
Well, you're back, Will...
...but are you back?
That would be something. The fucking wild bunch.
We'll have this fucking manor on its ear.
Anyone gets in our way...
everything's there for the taking, Will.
Frank turner might have something to say about that.
He's a fucking cracked egg.
I hear he's been busy while I've been away.
I hear he's all over everything.
One day,
I'm gonna fuck him where he breathes.
There's a lot of soft money up, Will.
You could have him over, Will. You put your mind to it.
I'm not back for that.
You think you've changed, do you?
You haven't changed.
Not really. People like us don't change.
- Not deep down. - Arnie, you're wrong.
You're wrong about most things most of the time, mate.
You know, all your life, you've raced this city.
It's in your blood.
You think living like a fucking animal in the back of a van
is gonna change that? Do you?
Because nothing changes. Not really.
You look at frank turner.
He's still bad to the fucking bone.
And he's gonna come for you, mate.
He has to.
It's on you, Will.
But you knew that.
You knew that the moment that you stepped back in this city.
You knew that there were gonna be bodies, someone's going to die.
But then, I think that's what you want.
Isn't it, Will?
You want to die.
Maybe you should do what your fucking brother did
and get it over with!
The man doesn't drink.
Hello.
What are you doing here?
Is there somewhere we can talk?
Please.
His brother's back.
Davey Graham's brother. Will Graham.
Asking questions. If he finds out...
what?
What's he gonna find out? What could he possibly find out?
He's killed people.
He's scum, just like his brother.
What happened that night?
I mean, what did you do to him to make him...?
That night...
...i was at home with my family.
- Night, johnny. - Bye, then. See you tomorrow.
I thought I'd never see you again.
Why are you here, Will?
You know why.
- Davey. - No, I mean why are you here?
Here with me now?
I thought...
i don't want to speak.
I'm sorry, I'd like you to leave.
I stopped writing because...
...it wasn't fair.
"Fair"?
Fair? Christ.
You must be able to find a better word than that.
I loved you, Will.
No less for being who you were. I've always known who you were.
What you are.
But I can't forgive you.
Not for leaving me...
...or abandoning me. I...
I've grown to understand that.
It's that shaming difficulty you have of thinking that you're not loved.
Believing that you're not capable of being loved.
Look at me.
Look at what I've become.
I sometimes don't talk to another living soul for fucking days.
Weeks.
I'm always on the move. I trust no one, nothing.
And it's got fuck-all to do with escape or withdrawal or fear.
It's grief.
For a life wasted.
And now there's Davey.
Another fucking wasted life.
And I'm gonna find out why.
Now, you loved him almost as much as me.
I thought that you might be able to help.
I thought you'd want to help.
I don't know how to help you.
The police pathologist's report was quite comprehensive.
The coroner's verdict, of course, inevitable.
- However... - I'm not questioning
the suicide verdict.
I just need to know why my brother killed himself.
To try to surmise why anyone takes their own life...
just say it. Say what you've got to say.
Very well.
Was your brother homosexual?
Or perhaps bisexual?
Was he bisexual?
There was damage to the mucous membrane in his anus.
Internal bleeding.
He'd had anal intercourse some time before his death.
What are you talking about?
That wasn't in there.
He'd been sitting in the water for at least 12 hours.
- It's difficult... - I'm not interested in blaming
or criticizing anyone. I just want the complete facts, the truth.
The fact is, there was anal penetration on the night before he died.
He wasn't bisexual.
I knew a woman who had been married for 30 years.
Her husband was bisexual. She hadn't got the slightest...
i would have known.
Very well.
That leads to one other conclusion.
If your brother wasn't homosexual or bisexual...
...then the act was, to use a legal term, nonconsensual buggery.
He was raped?
There was no semen in the mouth.
Often, in rape cases, there's forced genital-mouth contact.
There was evidence that he ejaculated.
- What the fuck are you saying? - It's not uncommon for victims
to become aroused during the act. Even ejaculate.
This can cause damaging psychological stress.
Lf, and I do say "if," this happened to your brother...
...then it might account for the subsequent suicide.
Of course, none of this would have made any fundamental difference
at the inquest.
The coroner's verdict would have been the same.
I can put you in touch with someone
who can explain it a little better than me.
If you like. If it would help.
If you think it might help.
It's cathy. I'm at work, can you ring me back?
Where were you last night? You are a sod, Davey.
Hi, it's sheridan. Don't forget the party tonight.
I've got someone lined up, an old school friend.
She's knitting a jumper, and she needs an ounce of wool.
Oh, subtle. That's subtle.
But don't be late, Davey. You're always late.
Still in your feather? It's mickser.
What, half 5.
You still haven't rung me. You still on for ronnie's tonight?
Terence blanchard. Be a blinder. Ring me, eh, you lump!
Hello?
- Hello, is that sheridan? - Yes.
I'm a friend of Davey's.
Can we talk?
It's important.
- And he left about what time? - Eleven. Soon after 11.
- Alone? - Yes.
Did you see him leave?
No, but I know he wasn't with anyone.
He wasn't at the party for that. I told you.
Yeah.
Did you notice anyone leave about the same time?
No. It was early.
This girl he sold to...
well, there was... there was one thing.
The guy she was with, I saw him waiting
while Davey and stella were doing their deal.
He had a cell phone. I'd just missed Davey leaving.
Front door was half open, I heard the lift.
This guy was phoning, and he looked nervous.
He'd seen Davey leaving while he was waiting for stella
to come out of the bedroom.
Maybe it's nothing. Maybe he was just nervous
because she was scoring.
- Did you know who he was? - No.
Do you think you could find out?
I could ring her.
Every victim reacts in a different way.
But there are patterns.
Various elements.
Disbelief. They try to switch off. It didn't happen.
Couldn't happen to them.
Shock can and does take all kinds of forms.
Some victims say that they feel strangely calm, unfeeling, detached.
Others feel the need to shout, express hostility, rage.
But sometimes...
...not often, but there are cases, I've known at least three,
where this disgust...
...this...
...terrible anger...
...is turned against themselves.
Are you all right?
Do you want me to go on?
Can I take a drink?
Help yourself.
One of the myths...
...is that rapists, whether they rape men or women,
are highly sexed.
Have insatiable sexual appetites.
The truth is that they are fundamentally inadequate.
They try to prove themselves to themselves.
The rape becomes a sort of symbol of their virility.
Not really interested in sex at all.
Rape is much more about domination, humiliation...
...defiling.
It's a crime of power...
...more than it's to do with any sort of sexual pleasure.
What kind of man am I looking for?
Would the police be looking for?
Well, he's more than likely to be heterosexual, even married with kids.
Could be any reasonable age.
And there might have been more than one.
Often, the others just hold the victim down.
What's the chances that Davey would have known them?
Lt'd be more likely that the attack came from strangers.
But he might have known them. I can't really answer that.
You are going to the police?
Please.
Please let them deal with it.
Never did like you.
I mean, look at you now, like a fucking pikey.
I'm talking to you.
You useless bag of shit.
Message from mr. Turner:
"You bury that brother of yours,
then you fuck off back to where you come from."
Get me...
...Willy?
And you tell those fucking trainspotters you used to run with
if they get any ideas, if they get fucking funny,
they're going down a hole.
She's unbelievable, this bird.
She's phoned this stella up, right. She's got his name, his address,
she's even got his fucking phone number.
Said she's drawing up this guest list
for the opening of a new club or something.
Needs to send out the invitation.
She's quite an item, I tell you.
I mean, I never used to think what Davey saw in them,
but I could certainly oblige that one, I know that.
Will?
- You with me? - Davey was raped.
What are you talking about?
He killed himself because he was raped.
Will, what the fuck are you talking about?
I had a second postmortem done. The police pathologist missed it.
What? Missed...? What?
Davey was buggered the night before he killed himself.
Well, why didn't you tell me straightaway?
Because I knew what you'd be thinking now.
No, no, no.
No, he had more women... he...
- he fucked himself stupid. - Yeah, but you're not sure, are you?
Don't you lay that on me.
Don't you fucking lay that on me. Davey was...
he was not bent.
Fuck you!
What'd he say?
- Nothing. - Nothing?
Ask irish.
That's a fact, mr. Turner.
He ain't gonna give no one no trouble.
Don't ever underestimate Will Graham.
He's a fierce man who'll go the distance.
You should never have left him like that.
It was wrong, Will, and you know it.
He never had no family, no one. He was just a kid.
You was always buying him stuff. Always giving him things.
When you left, we had noth... he had nothing.
So he went for the soft money.
Started dealing, started getting himself whacked up with them wanks, them...
I'm telling you, if Davey was raped, it was one of them who did it.
They're fucking brainsick, that lot.
I'll fucking do the lot of them!
Yes?
It's stella.
Hi.
David myers?
I'm Davey Graham's brother.
All I want is his name.
Are you fucking listening? Are you?
I can't. You don't know him. He'll kill me.
You're fucking dead already.
Do you know what he did to Davey?
All I did was phone from the flat.
I didn't have anything to do with whatever.
- He wouldn't tell me. - He raped him.
That's why Davey killed himself.
Well, this is money around here, isn't it?
These ain't car salesmen's houses.
No, this cunt's wrong.
We might need this.
We?
- Well, I'm coming with you. - No, you're not.
Get out there! Go on! See them off!
See them off! Go ahead! Go on there, boy!
See them off, henry!
Good boy!
Up behind the traps.
And out they go, and it's flashing moment out.
He flashes to the front, and he leads to the bend
from number six, man upset, and jet spray.
Into the second bend, and it's flashing moment.
He's gone three lengths and two and a half lengths in front.
Jet spray and man upset battling for second,
and lid-pal-sammy putting in a big run.
Heading down to the third bend, and jet spray is closing.
There's two lengths in it at the third bend.
But it's flashing moment by two lengths
from jet spray, who is closing.
In third place, number three, lid-pal-sammy.
Off the final bend, and they're coming home, and they're clashing.
And jet spray! Jet spray gets up on the line to win it.
Flashing moment in second, and lid-pal-sammy in third.
Frank?
Frank!
Jesus.
- Take it off. - You're fucking finished, al.
No! Take this thing! Take it off!
- You're fucking finished. - What is it, frank?
- Nothing. - Don't tell me "nothing."
- What's going on? - Get inside.
- I want to know what's going on. - Now, get in. Get inside!
Just come and get him out of my garden.
Then I want you all at the shop. I wanna know who did this.
I wanna see their faces. While they've still got faces.
Arnie ryan, cannibal, big john.
Has to be them.
You don't get a second chance with that crew.
Al wasn't up to it. He was too old.
Like me?
No, not like you. Not like you at all. It's just that...
he was out-of-date.
Oh, he could bang a bit, but that was all.
You need someone younger...
...more useful.
Like you?
No, not like me. I'm just a driver.
My cousin's over from belfast.
He's your man.
He's a bit special. In fact, he's very special.
You're gonna need someone now al's gone.
They're all in there, waiting for you.
This cousin of yours...
...is he discreet?
Oh, yes.
Take me to him.
- Now? - Now.
Turner wants him gone, you know.
I told him to bury Davey and then fuck off
back where he came from.
He can't now, can he?
Not really, no.
No.
That man raped Davey.
You don't understand. How could you?
You never could.
You say you went to see this man?
- Tonight. - What did he say?
I don't know. I wasn't with Will, I just drove him there.
- You didn't ask him? - I did.
He didn't answer.
What do you think he will do?
I don't know.
I really don't.
He's changed.
Has he?
Three years ago...
...he would have shot that sick fucker!
He didn't wanna know.
- I'm sorry. - I'm not here for that.
Go to the police, Will. Don't do anything. Go to the police.
What can they do without Davey's testimony?
That boy from the party, surely he...
all boad has to do is say that Davey consented.
I can't just do nothing.
You left all that behind.
- Three years ago. - Did i?
That's why you went.
Was it?
They'll be talking about him in the pubs and the clubs,
saying what a great kid he was.
Making up stories, lies.
They'll fit him into their fantasy, create the myth.
They'll all be at the funeral, suited and booted...
...singing the hymns.
Messages on the heart-shaped wreaths.
There'll be tears.
Plenty of crying. We love to weep.
Shows how much we care...
...how much we feel. - I don't want to hear this.
Oh, they'll be talking about him, all right.
"Hey, you know Will Graham's brother?
You know he was raped?"
"Raped?"
"Yeah, it was suicide."
"Suicide?"
There'll be one man and his fucking dog.
Get out. Go. Tonight. Leave the city.
Go back where you can breathe. If you stay, it'll destroy you.
You know that.
Forget the funeral.
Don't smoke in my car.
Please.
You got me out of my bed.
I want a suit pressed.
Number eleven.
- Long time no see, mr. Graham. - Charlie.
Housekeeping.
Thanks.
- Hello? - Pack a bag.
I'll pick you up in three hours.
Just like that?
Just like that.
What the...?
Henry!
Henry?
No.
Why?
Why'd you do it?
There's always a reason.
You must have had a reason.
I wanna kill you so badly, I can taste it.
I know who you are.
You're just like he was.
So sure of himself.
So certain of what he was.
I was watching him for weeks, you know.
At the parties, the restaurants, clubs.
He was everything I loathed.
The clothes, the walk, the talk, the lies.
The way he smoked. They way he laughed.
Laughing, always laughing. Mocking.
Everything, everyone.
And the women.
Their eyes, like hands, on him all the time.
I mean, come on, what was he, huh?
Thief, huh?
Drug dealer?
A degenerate?
I wanted to show him what he was.
Nothing.
He was less than nothing.
I wanted him to know that.
I'm gonna kill you.
I am going to kill you.
Not now.
Not tonight.
That would be too easy.
Maybe next week.
Next month.
You'll never know.
Think about it.
One day...
...one night...
...l'll be there.
Most thoughts are memories.
And memories deceive.
The walk.
The way he smoked a cigarette.
Laughed.
The dead are dead.
He's gone.
What's left to ever say he was here at all?
Not much.