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[oom] 3x05 Tape Recorded Notes
[ tape begins ]
First things first. I cannot let my anger, my frustration at this whole debacle cloud my thinking. I thought -- I thought for certain that he had changed. That he was different. But he's not, is he.
He's just like the others. Litton and Bevan. Only his secrets go much deeper, and into far more darker places. My investigation into the death of Sam Tyler has only convinced me that there's a cover-up going on, and he's involved. Keats is sure that he's the villain, but I -- I'm not ready to go that far. There is no evidence to support that theory.
But it damned sure doesn't look good. His behaviour, at every turn, has been abysmal. He flat out destroyed the file I was assembling on Sam. He broke into my desk with a bloody crow bar, and -- he burned it in a barrel behind the station. And he took Sam's coat, as well! Of all the pointless, meaningless...
How can he possibly think I can trust him when he acts like this? How can he think I'll just walk away, turn a blind eye -- especially after seeing how Litton and Bevan expected him to act? I mean, I always knew he'd take backhanders, in the day. Sam mentioned it to me, once or twice. But I thought -- after what all we've been through -- I thought he had changed.
I thought he trusted me enough to tell me the truth.
And he knows, Molly, I can see it in his eyes. He knows that Sam and I are the same. He knows I'm not supposed to be here, that I have to get back. He knows I'm like Sam in that regard.
We were doing well there for a few weeks. We were working side by side, and Keats seemed to be content to let us get on. But the moment a problem arises, he's -- he's like a bloody bull with his head down. He keeps plowing forward, as if he can outlast any threat simply by pretending it doesn't exist.
And Keats is a serious threat. He's determined to see Fenchurch fall apart, or at least it seems like he's convinced that's the path we're on, and nothing he can do or say can save us.
[ an exasperated sigh, and a long pause ]
He still doesn't believe that I trust him, doesn't believe that I'm on his side. After all I've done.
I don't know how he could think any less of me than he does now. I want to know what happened to Sam Tyler. He has flat out refused to deny any involvement, and he has to know how that looks.
[ another long pause ]
And what did he say to Bevan, as he lay bleeding on the ground? What did he say to make him scream and convulse like a man in agony?
He told him the truth.
That much I believe.
Does he think that I'm not strong enough for that truth? Does he think he's protecting me? Or is he protecting something else. His manor, his -- kingdom.
He called me back to this place. He gave me a purpose, a reason to be here. He set me on this path. He certainly can't be surprised when I refuse to give it up. And he certainly can't expect me to sit by quietly while he lets his career, and this station, circle the proverbial drain.
Keats is right. History does repeat itself.
Why can't Gene see that? Why can't he just -- tell me what the hell is going on?
This isn't doing any good. I'm going back to reconstruct those files from memory. Bloody 1983 and its utter lack of electronic back ups.
[ tape ends ]
First things first. I cannot let my anger, my frustration at this whole debacle cloud my thinking. I thought -- I thought for certain that he had changed. That he was different. But he's not, is he.
He's just like the others. Litton and Bevan. Only his secrets go much deeper, and into far more darker places. My investigation into the death of Sam Tyler has only convinced me that there's a cover-up going on, and he's involved. Keats is sure that he's the villain, but I -- I'm not ready to go that far. There is no evidence to support that theory.
But it damned sure doesn't look good. His behaviour, at every turn, has been abysmal. He flat out destroyed the file I was assembling on Sam. He broke into my desk with a bloody crow bar, and -- he burned it in a barrel behind the station. And he took Sam's coat, as well! Of all the pointless, meaningless...
How can he possibly think I can trust him when he acts like this? How can he think I'll just walk away, turn a blind eye -- especially after seeing how Litton and Bevan expected him to act? I mean, I always knew he'd take backhanders, in the day. Sam mentioned it to me, once or twice. But I thought -- after what all we've been through -- I thought he had changed.
I thought he trusted me enough to tell me the truth.
And he knows, Molly, I can see it in his eyes. He knows that Sam and I are the same. He knows I'm not supposed to be here, that I have to get back. He knows I'm like Sam in that regard.
We were doing well there for a few weeks. We were working side by side, and Keats seemed to be content to let us get on. But the moment a problem arises, he's -- he's like a bloody bull with his head down. He keeps plowing forward, as if he can outlast any threat simply by pretending it doesn't exist.
And Keats is a serious threat. He's determined to see Fenchurch fall apart, or at least it seems like he's convinced that's the path we're on, and nothing he can do or say can save us.
[ an exasperated sigh, and a long pause ]
He still doesn't believe that I trust him, doesn't believe that I'm on his side. After all I've done.
I don't know how he could think any less of me than he does now. I want to know what happened to Sam Tyler. He has flat out refused to deny any involvement, and he has to know how that looks.
[ another long pause ]
And what did he say to Bevan, as he lay bleeding on the ground? What did he say to make him scream and convulse like a man in agony?
He told him the truth.
That much I believe.
Does he think that I'm not strong enough for that truth? Does he think he's protecting me? Or is he protecting something else. His manor, his -- kingdom.
He called me back to this place. He gave me a purpose, a reason to be here. He set me on this path. He certainly can't be surprised when I refuse to give it up. And he certainly can't expect me to sit by quietly while he lets his career, and this station, circle the proverbial drain.
Keats is right. History does repeat itself.
Why can't Gene see that? Why can't he just -- tell me what the hell is going on?
This isn't doing any good. I'm going back to reconstruct those files from memory. Bloody 1983 and its utter lack of electronic back ups.
[ tape ends ]