Veronica Guerin

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Father, look kindly on your children|who put their trust in you.

Bless them and keep them from all harm.

Strengthen them against|the attacks of the devil.

May they never offend you,|but seek to love you in all they do.

May Almighty God bless you,|the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

The Mass has ended.|Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

Good morning, Mary. How are you?

Good morning, Elizabeth. How are you?

Good morning, Bernie.

Father, would you say a prayer|to Our Lady for an intervention?

- What's wrong? Is someone sick?|- No.

I just want us to pray for my daughter|to lose her driving licence.

Case number 37 422: Veronica Guerin.

Almost 1 200 parking tickets.

March 1 0th, speeding ticket.

Just last month another speeding ticket|for driving at 1 04 miles per hour.

Well, now, I think that shows|some improvement by my client, Judge.

I'll alert mothers it's safe|to let their children back on the streets.

I... I deserve to lose this case, Judge.|That's fair enough, you know.

But if I can't drive, I can't do my job. I'm|a journalist with the Sunday Independent.

We all know who you are, Miss Guerin.|That does not grant you immunity.

This is Bernie Guerin. I can't take your call|at the moment. Please leave a message.

Mum, I'm driving!|Can you believe it? He let me off.

He actually let me off.|I love you, Mum. Talk to you.

Ah, no! You're having me on.

No, I swear to God. Just a 1 00 fine|and a warning. I'm behind the wheel again.

- It's your ma, the criminal.|- Hi, Ma.

Well, I hope you've learned a lesson|and reformed your ways, young lady.

- Hey, you're not speeding now, are you?|- No, of course I'm not.

Well, maybe a little.

What did you say to that daft judge?

I told him I was guilty as sin.

And he let you off?|Pleads a great case for judicial reform.

Yeah. Another repeat offender|returned to decent society.

This is Garda detective Chris Mulligan.|Please leave a message.

You didn't get me this time, Chris.|Still got the wheels.

I was fined - you're gonna love this -|1 00 quid. Can you believe it?

You owe me lunch. You said wherever|I want, and I'm expensive, don't forget.

Veronica?

Veronica?

The fucking eagle has landed.

How are you, boss?

Push off, you little scum.

Come on, get your money ready. 5.

How are you?

The name's Veronica.|I write for the Sunday Independent.

May I ask you some questions?|D'you mind?

How much d'you pay for one of those?

A few quid. Anyway, it's cheaper|to rent someone else's needle.

What about the score?

- First one's free.|- Well, I heard 5.

- Where d'you get the cash for all this?|- I just say to some broad like you:

''Give me your money|or I'll inject you with AlDS.''

- How old are you?|- What's it to you?

I'm writing a piece for the paper.|I wanna know where you get the gear.

I'll do your work for you.|Come back when you got some money.

- Fatso, don't be spending that on food.|- I'll check it later.

- Lost, are we?|- Who might you be?

- Neighbourhood watch.|- Yeah, well, better keep an eye out.

I hear there's some dodgy scangers about.

I fucking swear to God...

Ah, Jamey, Jamey, Jamey, Jamey.

You're an awful man, do you know that?

What'd you have to go and shoot|your mouth off to the Gards about me for?

Did you think I wouldn't find out it was you?

You know, I was thinking about killing you.

And then I thought to myself,|people get killed every day,

and nobody gives a shite.

So I've decided|I'm going to have to hurt you a bit.

Actually, I'm going to hurt you an awful lot.

But the good news is that I'm going to|do you meself. Oh, yeah. Personally.

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