Episode 6: Shot While Trying to Escape

Frances and Margaret receive a welcome tip off in their murder investigation, while Chief Inspector Burton has plans for his chief suspect.  

The Greatest Matter was written & directed by Conor Reid

It was Recorded at The Podcast Studios, Dublin and produced by Hilary Barry

Editing, Sound Design, and Original Music by Conor Reid

The show is a HeadStuff Podcast. For more on the network, all the great shows, and details on how you can support the podcast, go to HeadStuffPodcasts.com

CAST

Dramaturgy & Script Support from Peter Dunne

Artwork & Design by Matt Mahon

Marketing & Promotional Support from Claudia Grandez & Hilary Barry

Transcript: Shot While Trying to Escape

SCENE 1

[FX: train sounds from inside train compartment]

FRANCES:                            So, what do you think Diarmuid wants to talk to you about?

MARGARET:                       I don’t know! He just said he’d been talking to an old friend of his and he needed to see me urgently. (Unconvinced) And apparently it was so urgent that it had to be in Kingstown, where he has business meetings today. And not at my house, where he was going to be this evening anyway.

So here we are, on a lovely train trip to the seaside, and not even a chance of a swim.

FRANCES:                            Yes, a bit cold now, even for you. Well look it must be something important.

MARGARET:                       I know, and thanks for coming along by the way. You didn’t have to.

FRANCES:                            Yes, I did. And anyway I love the train!

MARGARET:                       Well, thank you anyway. (pause) Oh, is this us?

[FX: train pulling into the station, doors opening, people, hustle and bustle train sounds]

FRANCES:                            Yes, this is Kingstown. Come on, don’t forget your coat.

MARGARET:                       I’ve got it…oh look there’s Diarmuid, he’s on the platform! (shouting) Diarmuid! Over here!

[FX: Sounds of getting off train, now on platform]                             

MARGARET:                       (now beside Diarmuid)Good morning!

DIARMUID:                         Margie, I’m so glad you made it so quickly. Frances, good morning. I didn’t know you were coming.

FRANCES:                            Morning, Diarmuid. You know I love a trip to the seaside.

DIARMUID:                         Right, well let’s get off the platform. Why don’t we walk down towards the pier?

                                                [FX: they walk away from the platform, background sounds change]

MARGARET:                       Diarmuid, what’s this all about?

DIARMUID:                         Yes, sorry for the dramatic message but I have to be at this meeting later and I thought it would be easier for you to come out here.

MARGARET:                       Ah yes, sure what else would I be doing?

DIARMUID:                         Seriously, Margie, this is important.You know my old friend Matthew Hanrahan?

MARGARET:                       Matt, who was a few years ahead of us in school?

DIARMUID:                         The very one. When I came out of my meeting this morning he was in the lobby of the hotel, said he’d been looking for me. He was hesitant to tell me the full story at first but, Margaret, he thinks you’re in danger!

MARGARET:                       What?

FRANCES:                            In danger? From whom?

DIARMUID:                         WellMatt got promoted recently – he’s a police detective now. He wouldn’t tell me much at first but he said there’s a major investigation underway. Some bigwig from the British army is leading it, and has set up some sort of army special unit working with the police. Matt isn’t involved directly in the case but he said he was coming to me as a friend, to talk about you, Margie. He said your house was searched?!

MARGARET:                       Well, yes, I mean…

DIARMUID:                         Margaret! Why didn’t you tell me?

MARGARET:                       I didn’t want to worry you! Some police came round, had a look, found nothing, and left. They were just trying to intimidate me, because I was asking questions around this murder in the Phoenix Park.

DIARMUID:                         Jesus,Margie, what are you wrapped up in? Frances, are you not even a little concerned for your friend?

FRANCES:                            Well of course I am.

DIARMUID:                         Matt said this case was big, there were serious figures involved, and if you hadn’t already got the message, to get out of this immediately.

MARGARET:                       I will.

DIARMUID:                         Good (relieved)

MARGARET:                       As soon as I’ve worked out what’s going on, and where the story is.

DIARMUID:                         (angry)Margaret!

MARGARET:                       Diarmuid, I know you’re worried, and I appreciate it. But this is a huge story, a major scoop for any journalist. I’m well able to look after mys….

DIARMUID:                         This is much bigger than…

MARGARET:                       I said I’m well able to look after myself, and if it’s getting out of hand, I’ll step away. You know I’m good at this, Diarmuid. Who else would have realised that fraudster ex-wife of yours was stealing from you?

DIARMUID:                         I know, and I’ve told you…

MARGARET:                       Nobody. And you would have been fleeced for everything you were worth, just like her previous victims. The money Dad left to you. Gone.

DIARMUID:                         I know…

MARGARET:                       And do I hold it over you? Have I ever asked you for anything?

DIARMUID:                         (resigned) No.

MARGARET:                       No. I found out the truth, I told you, and I left you to deal with it quietly. So I’m asking you for this. Just leave me be. Frances and I are on to something here, and we intend to find out the truth.

DIARMUID:                         (sighing) Fine. Fine, but I’m going to keep an eye on all this and if it gets too                                          dangerous…

MARGARET:                       We’ll be careful, very discreet, there’s no need to worry. Now, haven’t you meetings to get to? We are going to get some food. Come on Frances.

FRANCES:                            Nice seeing you again, Diarmuid. I’ll look after her, don’t worry.

DIARMUID:                         Don’t you want to know who was killed?

FRANCES:                            What?!

DIARMUID:                         If you’re going to insist on investigating this, I might as well tell you who was killed.

MARGARET:                       What? Who? Did Matt tell you?

DIARMUID:                         Yes, he said it was going to be public knowledge very soon anyway, and obviously you didn’t hear it from him, but it was the Chief Secretary’s son – James Redgrave

MARGARET:                       Oh, shit!

FRANCES:                            (offended at language) Margaret!!  

MARGRET:                          Sorry, but this is big. I knew it was someone important. So it was political then? Another Phoenix Park murder!

DIARMUID:                         Hence the major investigation. Apparently, the Chief Secretary had just got back from London that afternoon – visiting the Queen on some important business – and a few hours later his son was brutally murdered.

FRANCES:                            Fantastic! I mean obviously not the murder, but now we are getting somewhere. That and Lombroso are both definitely leads.

DIARMUID:                         Who?

MARGARET:                       Long story. Listen, Diarmuid, I love you, and I know you have my best interests at heart. So, I promise to be careful and, truly, thank you for the concern. And the inside tip!

DIARMUID:                         You are welcome. I love you too, Margie.

MARGARET:                       Right. Fran. Are we eating or what?

FRANCES:                            Absolutely.Oh,what about that new coffee house we read about?

MARGARET:                       Yes,it’s down by the seafront I think…

[Fade out]

SCENE 2

[FX: heavy door being opened, echoey sounds from underground holding cell]

BRADLEY:                            In here, come on, let’s go.

JOE:                                       (Struggling). Let go of me, I can walk into a room without you manhandling me.

BRADLEY:                            Move! Now, sit down there, the Chief Inspector will be along shortly

                                                [FX: scuffling, moving of heavy chair, Joe is pushed into it. Door opens]

BURTON:                             Joe O’Callaghan, so nice to see youagain.

JOE:                                       Sir,I don’t know what you think I’m after doing but I haven’t been near those Murphy lads since you arrested me that time, and I haven’t so much as….

BURTON:                             (interrupting)Joe, Joe. This is nothing to do with the Murphys.

JOE:                                       Oh.

BURTON:                             (to Bradley). Detective Bradley, you can leave, and close the door please. I need to have a little chat with Joe here.

                                                [FX: Door closes]

(to Joe) Joe, this not about any historic misdeeds of yours. This is about you, covered in blood, walking away from the scene of a very recent murder.

JOE:                                       I don’t know anything about that!

BURTON:                             About what?

JOE:                                       About a murder.

BURTON:                             But you were in the Phoenix Park on Saturday evening.

JOE:                                       Well, yes, but I was just walking through the park, going to the pub.

BURTON:                             Where were you coming from?

JOE:                                       From Chapelizod. I finished up a job – you know I do a few carpentry odd jobs – well I finished up earlier than planned, and decided to get a pint in Nancy Hands. So I walked through the park.

BURTON:                             I see. And then what happened?              

JOE:                                       Nothing! I didn’t murder anyone anyway, I swear! I walked through the park and went for a pint. And on the way, I was attacked by this quare lad – he’s your murderer.

BURTON:                             You were attacked?

JOE:                                       Well, I mean, not attacked exactly, but this lad he comes out of nowhere – I think he was in the bushes – and he’s strange looking and muttering something – very odd

BURTON:                             Strange how?

JOE:                                       I don’t know, it’s hard to describe. Everything about him was…off. He terrified me if I’m honest  – big lad, strong, moved in a funny way. I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. He was half naked, wearing some sort of shawl or something. And he was covered in blood – all over his face and hands and everything

BURTON:                             So, what happened next?

JOE:                                       Well he sort of growled and just shoved me. I staggered back and fell to the ground and he just walked over me, trampled me like some damned juggernaut. I was so shocked at him, and the blood, and that glow and everything, I just got the hell out of there. I kept running, and I bumped into Paddy, a bricky I’ve done a few jobs with. Anyway, we both went to the pub. I’ve never needed a drink more in my…

BURTON:                             Go back a second – did you say a “glow”?

JOE:                                       What? Oh, well….well, I wasn’t going to mention that cos I thought maybe I was seeing things – Paddy wouldn’t believe me and we had an argument about it. I don’t know, there was a kind of a glow or something, coming from him.

BURTON:                             I see. And had you been drinking at that point?

JOE:                                       I’d called in for one or two in Humphreys before walking through the park, but that was it, I swear!

BURTON:                             Right. So, after this attack by a barely-clothed, blood-covered, glowing, odd-looking fellow, you went for your pints.

JOE:                                       Exactly. And I can tell you I needed a few pints after that one. Quarest looking man I’ve ever seen.

BURTON:                             And there’s no chance that maybe you robbed and murdered another man walking through the park, near where you were seen?

JOE:                                       Jesus, sir, no! Murder! Look, you know me, I’ve taken a few, eh…opportunities, where they’ve come up, got my hands on a few things I shouldn’t have. But I’m not a murderer! That job with the Murphy’s, I got caught up with that before I knew who they were working for. (Desperate) Please, I didn’t kill anyone, you have to believe me!

BURTON:                             I do.

JOE:                                       You do?

BURTON:                             Listen Joe, I didn’t think this was you to begin with, and our little chat has only confirmed it. But I’m going to level with you. You’re going to be executed for this.

JOE:                                       What? No, sir, what are you talking about you just said you didn’t think I….

BURTON:                             Joe, calm down!

JOE:                                       (panicking) I swear on my mother’s grave, I had nothing to do with….

BURTON:                             (interrupting him) Joe! Breath for a second. (pause) Let me explain. There are people involved in this who need this case wrapped up now. Your arrest, a confession, and then a swift execution – shot while trying to escape, say – would work nicely….

JOE:                                       But it was, it was that ….

BURTON:                             (Talking over him) …Would work nicely. I happen to think that summarily executing you for a crime I’m all but positive you didn’t commit, is not something that would play well on my conscience. But my hands are tied. I need to execute you, or my superiors will send someone else to do the job.

So I have a plan, and I’m afraid you’re going to have to trust me. There are two other officers here I trust with my life. We are going to arrange for you to be “shot”, but we’ll get you out of here alive.

JOE:                                       I don’t understand what’s going on…

BURTON:                             Do you want to be executed this evening?

JOE:                                       No, I….

BURTON:                             Well then, sit here, shut up, and do what I tell you when I come back later today. Have you any relatives abroad, Joe?

JOE:                                       What? Well, yeah, I’ve some cousins in Liverpool.

BURTON:                             Well, have a think about what you’re going to say to them, because you’re going to be in Liverpool for the foreseeable future. I’ve been told you’re unmarried, no kids, so you’ll be grand. Fresh start.

JOE:                                       (taking it all in) I don’t know if I can, I’ve got…my friends and work and…

BURTON:                             Liverpool, Joe. Or you die tonight. Your choice. I’ll be back later

SCENE 3

                                [FX: street sounds, walking through town]

FRANCES:            Those pastries were magnificent, I’m so glad we went all the way to Kingstown now! A pity the day started with you being warned about your impending doom, but all in all, a very pleasant morning.

MARGARET:       It was a pleasant morning, mortal danger aside. And those thugs can rummage through my house all they like, there’s nothing to find. Or at least nothing they’ll be able to find. Oh, wait, did I tell you I’ve been dictating all my notes for this on that phonograph I got. When the police searched the house, they had no idea there was anything on it.

FRANCES:            Oh, look at you, Detective Malone! Well, I’ve been doing some investigative work of my own. I sent out a dozen letters yesterday to anyone I could think of who might be able to help. I’m hoping some of them will be answered today.

MARGARET:       And I mocked you for the quite frankly ridiculous number of letters you seem to write every day!

FRANCES:            Precisely. It pays to be a thorough and regular correspondent. So, do you want to come in and we’ll plan our next move?.

MARGARET:       Wonderful. Oh, wait, who’s that man standing outside your door up there?

FRANCES:            I don’t know,

MARGARET:       Isn’t that the man from yesterday, Áine O’Dwyer’s husband? What was his name… Simon! What’s he doing here?

FRANCES:            I guess we’re going to find out

(they walk over to him)

                                Mr O’Dwyer, good afternoon. Are you waiting for me?

SIMON:                Well for Ms Malone here but she left this address so here I am. (angry) And you’d better have some god damn answers!

MARGARET:       (shocked by his anger) Woah, Mr O’Dwyer, answers for what?

SIMON:                Áine has been taken into custody.

MARGARET:       Oh, I thought she’d already made her statement to the police. Listen, would you like to come inside and we can have a cup of tea and….

SIMON:                (interrupting) No! I don’t want tea, I want know to why you came snooping around asking questions of my wife in my house, and now suddenly Áine is taken off by the army.

FRANCES:            The army!? I thought you said it was the police.

SIMON:                I said she was in custody. I don’t even know whereshe is being held. Five men barged into my home yesterday, demanding to see Áine. When I tried to ask what was wrong, they shoved some official paper in front of me, and proceeded to escort Áine away. I didn’t know what was happening, Áine was saying she’d already talked to the police, but they said they were conducting a different operation and when I tried to ask where they were taking her, I was pushed against a wall for my troubles.

MARGARET:       Mr O’Dwyer, I can assure you I have no idea what has happened to poor Áine – she seems like a lovely woman and I would never wish her any harm. I was just trying to work out what happened in the zoo. I’m a journalist, it’s my job. Look, I’m sure Áine will be returned safe and sound very soon.

SIMON:                (calming down, taking a breath). Look, I’m sorry I shouted at you, I’m just at my wits end here.

MARGARET:       Of course, of course, we totally understand. Can I ask, you said they were army men?

SIMON:                What? Oh, yes, they weren’t in uniform but, trust me, I know an army man when I see one. My father and grandfather were both in the military, and these men were soldiers.

FRANCES:            And you’re sure you wouldn’t like to come in and sit down and we can see if we can be of any more help to you. I can offer you some tea and scones and we just bought some wonderful gooseberry jam in Kingstown this morning, in this delightful little….

MARGARET:       Fran, I don’t think he cares about the jam.

SIMON:                No, no, thank you, truly. I have a few army contacts I can talk to who might be able to help. I’ve already been to the zoo, and it seems that the others there on the night of the murder are unexpectedly not in today. They seem to be rounding them all up.

MARGARET:       I don’t know what to say, Mr O’Dwyer. Perhaps there was something more to the murder and they are simply bringing in the witnesses again to clarify some points, and they’ll all be home by this evening.

SIMON:                You’re probably right. I’m going to talk to my army contact, see what I can find.

FRANCES             Good idea. And we will let you know if we hear anything at all about Áine.

SIMON:                Thank you.Take care.

                                [FX: Simon walking off]

MARGARET:       (exhaling) That’s a new development

                                [FX: Knock. Bill opens door]

BILL:                       Good afternoon, ma’am. Ms Malone.

FRANCES:            Hello, Bill, we’re back. We are going to work in the study, is the fire lit?

BILL:                       It is, ma’am. There are fresh scones from the oven too if you’d like one.

MARGARET:       Now we can try the jam, Frances. Could you put this on the scones please, Bill?

BILL:                      Of course. And a letter arrived for you, Ms Hunter. Hand-delivered earlier.

                                [FX: walking across hall, footsteps, door open, sound of fire]

FRANCES:            (Collapsing into chair)Oh, I’m exhausted. What a day, and it’s barely past lunchtime.

MARGARET:       So, what do you think is going on with Áine? What are the army doing with her?

FRANCES:            Yes, strange it’s not the police. And all the other witnesses from the zoo taken too. If the murdered man was the Chief Secretary’s son, then surely it must have been politically motivated. Republicans sending a message maybe? I mean Redgrave was fervently against the last Home Rule bill.

MARGARET:       That seems reasonable.So the army are investigating…alongside Burton and his men? Entirely separately? Seems unusual.

And then, lest we forget, Professor Lombroso seems to be connected, or has been dragged into this.

FRANCES:            Actually, before we heard about this army businessI had been thinking about all of this, and there is one angle we hadn’t really followed up on.

MARGARET:       Oh?

FRANCES:            Spiritualism.

MARGARET:       Oh Frances, is this the ghost running through the park again?

FRANCES:            Yes, well no, not really. It was what Dr Williams said to me when I went for that, ahem, very important GP visit.

MARGARET:       How’s your neurasthenia by the way?

FRANCES:            Debilitating, Margaret, it’s a miracle I can move at all.

MARGARET:       (laughing)So Dr Williams, then?

FRANCES:            He mentioned that Mr Lombroso was an ardent spiritualist and was attending séances in Dublin. He was very disapproving about it all – renowned professor tricked by fraudsters and all the rest.

MARGARET:       And?

FRANCES:            Well, it just seemed like something we hadn’t looked at. Remember I said I’d sent out some correspondence, following up on a few of our leads. Well, I sent a letter yesterday to Letitia Fitzgerald – do you remember you met her a few months ago at that dreadfully dull party her husband gave.

MARGARET:       Oh god yes, the one with all the septuagenarian barristers!

FRANCES:            (laughing) They weren’t that old! But yes. Anyway, Letitia and I have a shared interest in theosophy and with my involvement in the Theosophical Society in London for a time, we …

MARGARET:       Oh, not the astral projection again!

FRANCES:            Yes, yes, be quiet. The point is, she is always up to date on spiritualist goings on in Dublin.

MARGARET:       And that’s the letter you just got?

FRANCES:            It looks like it, yes.

BILL:                      Tea and scones!

MARGARET:       Oh thank you, Bill, they look delicious

                                [FX: pouring tea, knife on plate, etc]

FRANCES:            So, let’s have a lookat this letter[opens letter and reads]

                                My Dearest Frances,

                                Thank you for your kind letter. We really must meet soon; we barely had a chance to chat at my recent soiree. Anyway, you stressed the urgency of your inquiry so I’ve quickly put down what I know here and I hope it can be of some use to you.

                                As you know, there has been a marked increase in spiritualist activity in Dublin in recent years and several prominent members of society have been won over to our great cause.

You asked about Professor Cesare Lombroso – he is very well known in the spiritualist community, and especially well connected in Paris and London. We at the Dublin Theosophical Society…

MARGARET:       Wait, they have their own society here too!

FRANCES:            Well, it’s just a few people at this point, but let’s leave that aside for a moment.

                                We at the Dublin Theosophical Society were of course delighted to hear that the Professor was visiting Dublin. From what I have learned he was meeting some important Spiritualists alongside his other professional duties. There was talk of an informal dinner or meeting near the hotel he is staying at (I believe The Gresham?) but I wasn’t able to confirm this.

                                Finally, you didn’t ask about this but it might be important.

                                [chewing] I juth retheived wrth that two… Mmm, that jam is delicious!

MARGARET:       You justwhat!?My god, Fran, finish the scone first!

FRANCES:            (Swallows, sips tea, clears throat) I just received word that two very gifted mediums – one a good friend of mine – were arrested last night. We are, of course, used to scepticism and intimidation from the authorities but these were two very respectable women and, from what I’ve heard, were taken away in a most brutish fashion. One of their husband’s is a prominent Queen’s Council, and I imagine they’ll be hearing from him. I hope he can bring those ruffians down a peg or two.

Well, I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you for now but I’ll be in touch in a longer missive with all the news as soon as I can.

                                Yours, etc

                                Letitia   

MARGARET:       That’s got to be the army, then, with the same aggressive arrest as with Áine.

FRANCES:            Yes, sounds like it. And now we can follow up our other lead.

MARGARET:       Lombroso’s address!

FRANCES:            Exactly. Assuming Letitia is correct, then the great Professore is at the Gresham Hotel, but a 20 minutes stroll from here. I think we have to go talk to him.

FRANCES:            We do. Once we’ve finished these scones.

MARGARET:       Excellent plan.

[FX, fade out, tea, scones etc]

SCENE 4

[FX jail door opening, etc]

BURTON:                             Good evening, Joe. You remember Detective Bradley, he’s going to help me with our little plan. You’ve had some time to take it all in, I hope.

JOE:                                       Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on, but I trust you and if you’re telling me I’m to be shot unless I go along with whatever you’re planning, I’ll go to Liverpool or whatever I need to do.

BURTON:                             Good man, Joe. I’ve organised somewhere for you to stay this evening. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can and I want to get some more details about this man you saw in the park. First, though, you are going to be “shot”.

JOE:                                       (nervous) Right.

BURTON:                             We’ve arranged to transfer you out of the castle. There’s a carriage just outside the gates. When I give you the signal, you’re going to hit Bradley, run, and head towards Ship Street. Bradley and I will make a commotion, shout stop, then I’ll shoot my firearm near you, I won’t hit you. Now this is important: all you need to do is fall down when you hear the shot, and stay down. Bradley here, and another detective who knows what’s going on, will carry your body into the carriage. I’ll deal with the commotion and we’ll get you out from there. Clear?

JOE:                                       But, I just, well, am I not supposed to be killed, sir? Will your superiors or whoever, not want to see a body?

BURTON:                             They will, and we have that covered. Luckily for you, they neither know nor care what you look like. Just leave it to us. So, you understand what you need to do? Hit Bradley, make it look convincing in case there are any onlookers.

BRADLEY:                            Eh, maybe not the face, sir?

BURTON:                             Sorry Bradley, we need this to look right. Joe, Punch Bradley in the face, just give him a black eye, nothing serious. Then run, and fall down when you hear the shot. Simple. Understand?

JOE:                                       Yes.

And, eh, thank you for…not killing me.

BURTON:                             You are most welcome. But I swear to god if I come across you again in connection with anything, I will shoot you myself. And it will be very real.

                                                Now, let’s go. Bradley, grab the door.

[FX: sound of heavy door opening, then footsteps on corridor, another door opening, and then crunching gravel]

BURTON:                             Ok, just across here

                                                [FX: a few soldiers/police walk by chatting]

(To Joe & Bradley) Come on, speed it up a little, lads. The carriage is just outside the gate here.

Constable, get the gate for us there. We’re in a hurry with this prisoner here.

CONSTABLE:                       Yes, sir [FX: gate opens]

BURTON:                             (whispering) Right, nobody around. Run that way, Joe. Wait for it…. Now!

[Fx: Thump as he punches Bradley. Bradley grunts and curses, sounds of footsteps echoing slightly]

BURTON:                             Hey! Prisoner on the run!Stop! Stop or I’ll shoot!

[FX: gunshot and, very quickly afterwards, two more shots. Scream from Joe]

BRADLEY:                            Sir, what’s going on, what happened?

BURTON:                             Did you shoot him, Bradley?

BRADLEY:                            What?! No! That wasn’t…I think…

CONSTABLE:                       (from further away) We got him, sir!      

BURTON:                             Who the hell is….oh Jesus, no. Bradley, check on Joe.

                                                What did you do, Constable?!

CONSTABLE:                       I saw the prisoner run and I wasn’t sure if you had the angle, so I took a shot. I was aiming for the legs, sir, to bring him down.

BURTON:                             Aiming for the legs!? At that distance. I think you’ve killed him!

CONSTABLE:                       He was attempting to escape, sir, you warned him clearly.

BURTON:                             I know I did, but I… (shouting) Bradley? How is he?

BRADLEY:                            (from across the way) Dead, sir. Chest wound.

BURTON:                             (Angry). Shit! God dammit! What’s your name, Constable?

CONSTABLE:                       2^nd Class Head Constable Peter Staines, Sir.

BURTON:                             (Resigned) Right, Staines, get some men to help Detective Bradley here.

(Background: “oh lord! What’s happened? I think that poor man is dead”, etc)

And keep the crowd back. Report to me afterwards, we’ll need a full report on file.

CONSTABLE:                       Yes, sir. (walking away) Oi! Everyone back, this is a police matter!

BURTON:                             (walking away, to himself) Fuck!