(upbeat folk music) (wind howling) (car engine whirring) (ominous music) (car tires squealing) (handbrake clicking) - Look at it!

I can't even say the place names up here.

Harry, what are we doing here?

We should be heading south for Glasgow, no' north to Oslo.

- The roads to Glasgow are gonna be blue with police out looking for us, Francie.

How many times do I have to say it?

- Good afternoon.

- Hello.

- Can I help?

- No.

It's finished.

- (laughs) Aye.

Oh, a Westie!

I've got one myself, he's called Jock.

(clicking tongue) - This wee one's called Jock, too.

- Well, I suppose it's a common enough tag for a Westie, eh?

I'm Hamish Macbeth.

- Rose Hart.

- What a beautiful name.

- I'm afraid we'll have to go in now, Hamish, to Lochdubh.

- I'll give you a lift back.

Is there luggage, or anything you'd like to take?

- No.

- Good dog.

You're a fine wee dog.

Stay in now, Wee Jock!

(car engine whooshing) (gentle mysterious music) - There's just a tad over the 1/2 pound there, Esme.

- Well, then, let me pay you for it, Mr. Campbell.

- Pay, she says.

I'm sure what's a tad to a grocery tycoon like myself?

- Well, if you're sure, Rory.

(chuckles) I mean, it does like look top-quality bacon.

The kind that'll crisp up nice for breakfast.

- Oh, I'm sure it will, Esme.

- Can I see you out, Esme?

- [Esme] Thank you.

- There you are, my love.

Oh, my.

Isn't that just a grand vision of womanlihood there, boy?

What do you reckon, Rory?

- I've just had a warning.

- Did you see anybody you recognized?

- No.

- I heard a car, as clear as I'm hearing you, but there was nothing there.

- Right, Rory Campbell, you can get me my messages.

My boy and I would prefer to be home before what's gonna happen happens.

(car engine revving) (trash can rattling) - Jock!

(whistling) (dog barking) Here, boy.

Here, Wee Jock.

(whistling) Come here!

(dog barking) - Watch the dog.

- I can see it.

I can see.

- Yeah, I'm just saying.

(tense music) - Stay!

Stay, Wee Jock!

- Oh, no, not you!

(car tires squealing) (car engine revving) - You aimed straight for it.

I told you, and you aimed straight for the dog.

- I thought I saw the boy for a second.

I saw the boy.

- What boy?

Harry, that's not possible.

Come on, get us out of here, before the police come.

- It's Wee Jock, TV John!

They drove straight at him.

I tried to shout, but Jock wouldn't stay.

- It's happened.

(car door slamming) - It's Wee Jock, Hamish.

(dog whining) - [Jimmy] They ran straight at him, Ham.

- What am I gonna do?

- [Lachlan] Maybe Doc Brown can save him, Hamish.

- (gasps) I'm afraid I'll hurt him.

- Aye, well, young Lachie's got a gentle way with the beasts, haven't you?

- I'll get him, Hamish.

- Give us your jacket, come on.

Put it on there.

- Right.

- Gentle.

- No worries.

- Come on.

(dog yelping) (thunder rumbling) (bird cawing) - What's that?

- It's Wee Jock, Doc.

God, I know that sounds really stupid, but it is.

- [Dougal] Come away in.

(car engine choking) - I'm not a smug man, Harry, but I have to mention the P-word.

I did say we needed petrol!

- That's it!

That's the sign, Francie.

That's the one!

- [Francie] It's a road sign.

So what?

- That's the sign that the voices told me about.

It's the starting point.

- [Francie] The starting point for what?

- For our new lives of devotion and prayer, Francis.

Out there, in the wilderness.

We're gonna be monks, you and me.

We're gonna build our own little monastery.

I mean, we do have a lot to repent for, Francie.

We committed the greatest sin, you and me, what we did.

- I know, I know, Harry.

I don't need reminding.

But, out there?

We'll never survive out there.

What we gonna eat, drink, live in?

- We'll be in the midst of His abundance, Francie.

We'll dine on the fruit from the trees.

We'll drink the sweet water from the cool, clear streams.

And as for a roof, we'll use the forest pines and the mud from under our feet.

Are you gonna repent with me, Francie?

Or do you intend going south, straight into the arms of the police that are sure to be waiting for you?

(window tapping) - [John] Away you go now.

- [Boy] What has happened?

- [Boy] He's got run over.

Got run over.

- I saw a woman in the Land Rover.

Who was she?

- Her van broke down.

I gave her a lift, and that's it, I don't know.

Did Jimmy see who did it?

- Aye, he said there were two men.

They seemed to be dressed alike, and one of them had white hair.

(door clunking) - I've had to give Jock a wee injection, Hamish.

There was nothing could be done for him.

- It was Wee Jock's time, Hamish.

I had a warning.

- Don't!

Don't give me any nonsense about warnings and premonitions.

Wee Jock was killed by men.

In a machine.

He'd be still...

He was killed by men.

As soon as I find out who did it, they're gonna wish they'd never been born.

- [Dougal] What would you like done with Wee Jock's remains, Hamish?

- What?

- Aye, we've had a bit of a warm spell lately, you know.

It's been up to 17 degrees Celsius, you know.

- What do you want done with all this stuff?

- Take what you want for yourself, and dump the rest, I don't care.

Oh, John.

Uh, you could do me one favor.

(thunder rumbling) - Suddenly in Lochdubh High Street, Wee Jock Macbeth, friend and faithful companion of Hamish Macbeth, police constable.

His passing brings such deep sorrow.

- Yes, I heard about the tragedy, Mr. McIver, but Wee Jock... We haven't had this before.

- Well, he's never been dead before, Mrs. McLeod.

- But, creatures, Mr. McIver, I imagine the editor might object to having a dog in the deaths column.

- John, what brings you here?

- It's Wee Jock Macbeth, he's been killed, and they want it in the deaths column.

- Oh, I'm so sorry.

And Hamish?

- Oh, bereft, Isobel.

- [Flora] And there's the matter of rates.

- Is he at the station?

- Oh, I'd leave him be just now, if I were you, Isobel.

- Yes.

I'm sure Constable Macbeth will pay whatever's necessary, Flora.

Put the notice in, will you, please?

- If you say so, Miss Sutherland.

But I will not be answerable to the editor.

You're just a reporter yourself, after all.

(people chattering) - [Man] Testing, one, two.

One, two.

Testing, testing.

- From Big Eric Cameron and his boys, with deepest sympathies.

- Aye.

- That's a lot of sympathy.

Are you sure you'll manage it?

- I'll manage.

- Testing.

One, two.

Good evening, everybody.

Or should I say, "Howdy partners"?

I'm Freight Train Jackie Dallas, and this here's my good woman Dale.

And we'd sure appreciate it if you was to give us a big howdy to make us feel at home.

So, just you holler good and loud, "Howdy, Freight Train, howdy, Dale!"

- [Patrons] Howdy, Freight Train, howdy, Dale.

- Yes, did you hear that, Dale?

- I did, Freight Train.

Go for it, darling.

- Now, you good folks, just listen up now, 'cause old Freight Train's got a song to sing, a sad and a very lonely song.

♪ Oh, Jake was a dog ♪ (glass shattering) (people chattering) - God, you're not that bad.

- Hamish, Mr. Freight Train meant no harm.

- I know, I know.

I just wanted to explain what happened.

You see, Mr. Freight Train- - There's a white dog barking in the darkness.

There's a white dog.

- [Isobel] What's the matter with him?

- It's one of his turns.

He'll be all right in a minute.

- Stay and sing for 'em, eh?

Isobel, try and get 'em back, darling, eh?

Sing them a song.

(gentle mysterious music) Get 'em back.

What did he mean, John?

A white dog in the darkness?

- Oh, that man's got the second sight, Hamish.

I doubt if he understands it, but he's got it.

Something's happening, Hamish.

Something's happening.

(thunder crashing) - Oh, rubbish.

- Harry!

Maybe we should just gi' ourselves up.

(rain pattering) I mean, it's no' working out just right, is it?

- Do you trust in Him?

Trust in Him.

After a good night's sleep, come a new morn, it will be okay.

Trust me, trust me!

See, in the morning, we'll be skipping over that heather like a couple of young bucks.

Harry Dobbs will no' let his old mate Francie down.

You just cuddle yourself down here, and get yourself some sleep, okay?

(thunder crashing) Argh!

- You'll no' let me sleep in, will you Harry?

(gentle mysterious music) (thunder rumbles) (rain lashing) (electricity zapping) (objects rattling) - [Rose] I'm sorry, but I did knock.

(Hamish sighs) - [Hamish] I thought you'd left, or something.

- No.

No, I went for a walk.

- [Hamish] So I see, you're soaking.

- I'll be all right.

I hate troubling you, under the circumstances.

- Aye.

Where's your dog?

- [Rose] Oh, he'll find me when he wants to.

Do you know who... - (sighs) Two men in a gray car.

- [Rose] I saw a gray car, and two men running up on the hillside.

- Did one of them have white hair?

(tense music) Come on, did one of them have white hair?

- Yes.

One of them had white hair.

(wind whistling) - Now, where exactly did you see the car?

- Five miles north of the village.

(gun clunking) (tense suspenseful music) (rain pattering) (crockery rattling) - Go away.

Leave me in peace!

Leave me alone!

(dramatic music) Hamish, no!

(thunder crashing) (dog barking) - Jock!

(dog barking) Jock!

(gun cocking) - [John] It was Wee Jock's time.

(guns blasting) You can't do this, Hamish!

Hamish, no!

(guns blasting) (John screaming) (John panting) (thunder rumbles) (water dripping) (birds cawing) - [Lachlan] Now put it down into second.

- [Lachie] It is.

- Into third now.

Into third.

- [Lachlan] Top foot, clutch.

Your clutch.

Clutch, boy!

(car horn honking) (dog barking) Are you fit, Rory?

- I'm ready.

- So, we're just waiting on TV John, then.

- Aye.

- Aye.

- Man, och, I just cannot believe this premonition business.

Are we really saying Macbeth is going to execute the men that killed his dog?

- Why not?

He dearly loved that dog.

- Well, if you don't believe in premonitions, maybe you can tell us where Macbeth is, Doctor?

Or how come the official revolver's missing from the safe, along with the official ammunition?

- But we don't even know where they went.

- They were driving north, and Hamish knew that!

- Macbeth wants them to himself, Doc.

We have to stop him.

- Clutch.

Your clutch.

(car engine revving) Get your clutch.

Your clutch!

(tires screeching) (birds chirping) (Harry whistling) - [Harry] Did you catch anything?

Were there any birds?

- Aye, millions.

And they landed everywhere but my loop.

I'm sorry, Harry, but I just ran out of patience.

What are we gonna do?

- Say a prayer with me, Francie.

God, Francie and me are in dire need of some nourishment here, and I was just kind of wondering if there was any- (can thudding) (Francie speaks faintly) What?

- I said, ask him for a tin opener.

- Lord, Francis has just pointed out that we might need a- - Bet you never guessed that manna came in 57 varieties!

(dramatic music) - [Lachlan] Great.

- Let's get after them, then.

(dramatic music continues) - So, uh, what are you two boys doin' away out here.

Duke of Edinburgh Award scheme, is it?

- That's a good one, that, Mr. Macbeth.

But, no.

In actual fact, Francie and me, we're corporate executives.

You know, the initiative course thing.

They stick you in the middle of somewhere and see how you fare and that.

What you doing out here?

- Well, I live out here, Mr. Dobbs.

Didnae fancy what passes for life in society these days, so I packed up, moved out here.

- What, you mean you just tramp the hills and stuff?

- Yeah, sometimes.

When I get fed up tramping, I fly about the hills, Mr. McGill.

- Fly?

(laughs) What, you're saying you can fly, Mr. Macbeth?

- No, I'm saying if you two are corporate executives, then I can fly, Mr. McGill.

No, no.

See, I reckon that's prison gear you're both wearing.

And I reckon you left before you paid your full debt to society.

(Harry sighs) - Just what exactly do you intend to do about that, Mr. Macbeth?

- Depends what you were in for, Mr. Dobbs.

- Robbery.

- Well, as I've nothing much worth stealing, I guess you're nae threat to me.

- You're absolutely right, Mr. Macbeth.

You have nothing to fear from us.

I mean, why would we want to harm what the Lord sent us?

I mean, do you actually think in this vast expanse we bumped into each other?

No, no, you were sent, Mr. Macbeth.

- For what, Mr. Dobbs?

- To show Francis and me the way of the wilds.

And then after that, to point us in the direction of trees and forests.

- Trees?

So, what you wanting trees for?

- We need the timber.

Build this little monastery.

You see, we're exactly the same as you, Mr. Macbeth.

We're heart-sick of society.

It's all grief back there.

- Well, I could stand the company for a day or two.

Teach yous what I can.

- God bless you, Mr. Macbeth.

What's your first name, by the way?

As we're gonna be traveling companions?

- It's Hamish.

- [Harry] Harry.

- Francie.

- Well, I suppose I could start by showing you how to build a wee fire.

Brew you up a cup of tea.

- Now you're talking.

(suspenseful music) - Hey, aren't these his shoe?

Aye, that's Macbeth's tracks, all right.

He was running hard.

- How far ahead is he, TV John?

- How the hell would I know that?

- Well, I just thought you could tell that kind of thing.

I mean, in the pictures, those Indian scouts can just scrunch up some droppings in their hand, and tell you everything.

- Well, I'm happy to say, Lachie Jr., that Macbeth hasn't left us any droppings.

But if he does, you can do the scrunching up.

Now, let's get a move on.

- You know what the boy was driving at.

I'll tell you, Hollywood's got a lot to answer for, boy.

- Hollywood, eh?

And here's me thinking it was genetic.

- Rory Campbell, would you like a fat lip?

- Take it easy, Lachlan.

Here, have a suck on this.

- No, I'll pass on that, if you don't mind.

- I don't mind.

- Can you feel it?

- Aye.

- Now, just like I showed you, whip it out.

(water splashing) - I did it!

(laughs) I did it!

I caught my own fish!

Hamish, that was wonderful, man.

(Francie laughing) - Aye, that was, Francie.

(suspenseful music) - [John] Well, he's caught up with them.

There were three of them here.

- Well, then, I was right, not a cadaver in sight.

Macbeth must be taking them in.

- Where to?

John O'Groats?

They're heading north.

- If I had murder in mind, Doctor, I'd lead my prey to where they'd never be found.

Macbeth's picking his spot.

- Well, there's plenty hours of daylight.

I suggest we march on at the double.

Come on!

(suspenseful music) - Tell me, Francie, you do know your pal's no' well?

- Aye, I know he needs serious help.

But what can I do?

And he is my friend, Hamish.

My God, me and Harry grew up together, served our apprenticeships together.

Got made redundant together.

(sighs) I cannae desert him now.

I'm just hoping he comes back to his senses, and we can go back home.

Even hoping we could go back to the nick.

- Aye.

(wind billows) - [Lachlan] Will we catch him in time, John?

- Well, I'm banking on my vision being accurate.

The scene of the crime was very, very specific.

It wasn't just wilderness.

Aye, if we can intercept Macbeth before he reaches that spot.

- Has anyone got tomata?

- Tomata?

It's tomato!

What have I told you about speaking properly, boy?

You're in the company of educated people here, you know.

- Who?

- Well, the doctor, there.

You're letting yourself down something awful.

Do you know that?

- And what about the way you speak?

- Me?

- I'd tread wary now, Lachlan.

It is a known fact that the linguistic development of offspring is crucially affected by the parental use of language.

- Aye, I can pass myself off with any company, boy.

You'll no' catch me asking for a tomata.

- I wasn't asking for a tomato.

I have tomato.

What I was about to ask for, before I was interrupted, was, if anyone without tomato was happy to exchange, I'd be willing to part with a tomato, for, say, a bonano.

- No.

What you are asking for is a slap in the chops.

- Oh, well, that's nice talk, isn't it?

And in front of the doctor, too.

- Boys, boys!

We shouldn't be squabbling on a night like this.

With full bellies and a raging fire, we should be engaging in a spot of male bonding.

- I'm for that, Rory.

- Aye.

Aye, you're right, Rory.

Sorry, boy.

- [Lachie] What, um- - [Lachlan] Aye?

- What did he mean?

- What?

- Male bonding?

- Well, it's... You know, it's what men do on the trail, round the campfire.

They sort of let their feminine side come out, you know.

That's right, Doc, innit?

- Something like that, Lachlan.

- Yeah, goodnight.

- Goodnight.

(wind whooshing) (fire crackles) (sleeping bag zip rasping) (wind howling) - Oh, God!

- What?

- Ah!

- What is it?

Harry!

- Argh!

- What is it, man?

- Help!

- [Francie] Harry!

- The boy, Francie.

The boy.

As clear as the day we killed him.

Ah!

- Nothing there, Harry.

Look.

Look, there's nothing.

It was a dream, Harry.

Just a dream.

There, you're all right.

You're all right.

(sighs) He's sleeping.

- You lied to me.

You told me you were robbers, no' killers.

I'll no' travel with killers.

- We're no killers, Hamish!

Harry's talking about was an accident.

- Well, you better tell me about this accident, so I can make my mind up.

Well, you've still got a lot to learn.

You've not got a hope of surviving out here.

I'm no' telling you another thing till I get the truth.

I mean it, Francis.

- Seven-year ago, we robbed a warehouse.

Got a load of VCRs.

It was early Sunday morning.

It went like clockwork.

We were driving the van along this quiet road, when this wee boy, he just stepped out.

Harry tried to stop.

He hit the brakes so hard, I nearly went through the windscreen.

I was KO'd, Hamish.

Harry told me what happened next.

(car door clunking) (gentle somber music) It was clear the boy was dead.

Harry was sure we hadn't been seen, so he put his jacket over the boy, and put him in the back of the van.

(water bubbles) By the time I came to my senses, it was too late.

Harry had dumped the van, with the boy inside.

(crying) - Take it the boy was never found?

- No.

(sniffing) Harry panicked.

We'd a van load of stolen goods.

You're talking a lot of jail time.

(sighs) He panicked because we're no killers.

You can see what it's done to him.

- To him?

What about the parents?

The boy's family?

What's it done to them?

You could've contacted them anonymously, told them where he was.

- No, we couldn't.

Harry left his jacket in the van, and there was something in it that could identify him.

- What?

- A bloody laminated bingo card, that's what!

The boy is dead, Hamish.

Nothing can bring him back.

I always told myself, as long as the boy's family didnae know the truth, at least they could hope.

(Hamish scoffs) I had to tell myself something!

No.

We couldnae tell anybody where the boy was.

We'd be branded as murderers.

(gentle mysterious music) - Right, are we fit then?

Let's get going.

(dramatic music) (tense music) (fire crackling) - Hamish!

(birds cawing) (objects clanking) - It's no use, John, we'll have to stop.

- Aye, he's right, John.

- [John] How about you, Lachie Jr.?

- Oh, I could run for miles yet.

- Then you go on.

When you find them, come back here.

Now, they're still heading north, so keep the sun on your right shoulder, and you'll not go far wrong.

- I'll find them, TV John.

- Aye, you're back.

- [Harry] Francie was worried that you'd went away and left us, Hamish.

- Ah, no, I went to get us some breakfast.

Fish again.

- Fish will be fine, Hamish.

I'll get the fire going.

(footsteps squelching) - Aye, let's get moving.

(fire hissing) (footsteps squelching) (river burbling) - [Lachlan] Any sign of the boy, yet?

- None.

- We should have asked the doctor to go, TV John.

- No, my boy'll pull through.

Any minute now he'll come tearing over that hill there.

- [Lachie] Daddy!

Daddy!

Daddy!

- Tearing over that hill, will he?

He's been running round in circles.

- It went and clouded over.

(panting) Macbeth's gonna kill those men.

I saw the gun, TV John.

I saw it clear as day.

(dramatic music) (tense music) - [Harry] It's just a piece of string, Hamish.

- I know it doesnae look much but it's sound enough.

Cross it all the time.

Well, you wanted forests, Harry.

There they are.

(rope creaking) (dramatic music) - Wa-hey!

Hey!

(men yelling) Hey, Hamish.

What is this?

- Hamish, you were sent.

- I wisnae sent, Harry.

I came for you.

You boys have caused a lot of grief.

Time to put things right.

(gun clicking) (gun blasting) - My, God.

He's done it.

(gun blasting) - Oh!

- Oh!

- Had a wee dog, you know.

Remember?

All his life consisted of was eating, sleeping, doing his business, and giving me constant affection, and you two, you two took him away from me.

(gun clicking) (gun blasting) (men yelling) - If you're gonna kill us, will you get on with it?

Because Francis and I will not crawl, if that's what you think.

- What do you think, Francis?

- [Francie] Harry's right.

But all I'll say is, I don't want to die, Hamish.

But I don't believe you'll kill us for a dog!

- Believe it.

They're just like children.

- [John] Hamish, this is not right.

They're human beings!

- Hamish, man, you can get grief counseling.

I'll get you the top man from Aberdeen.

- Stay out of this!

- Ha-ha-ha-ha!

Can't shoot us now, eh?

There's witnesses there, they'll testify.

- Not when I tell them what you did to the wee boy.

This is for him as well as for Wee Jock.

- Wait!

Hamish!

Is there anything I can do or say to save my life?

(crane whirring) (water splashing) (children chattering) (children yelling) (gentle melancholy music) (door creaking) - [Hamish] You?

- Beg your pardon?

- (sighs) I'm sorry.

I'm Hamish Macbeth.

- I'm Susan Graham, Mr. Macbeth.

Please, come in.

Robert.

This is Hamish Macbeth.

My husband, Robert.

- It was good you came all the way down here, Mr. Macbeth.

We wanted to thank you personally for what you did for us.

- [Hamish] Aye.

- I'll get some coffee, then we can talk.

(dog whimpers) - Mr. and Mrs. Graham, I'd just like to say that, you know, the man who killed your son, well, it was a genuine accident.

And I tell you, there's no amount of punishment can cause him more suffering than his own conscience already has.

- We're not looking for revenge, Mr. Macbeth.

All we ever wanted was to have our son back, or at least to know what happened to him.

- Now we do, thanks to you.

- Aye.

Mrs. Graham, do you have a sister?

Or some relative who maybe looks like you?

- I had a sister called Rose.

Why do you ask?

- Well, there was a woman who- - [Robert] Rose is dead, Mr. Macbeth.

- I'm sorry.

- She was looking after my son when he disappeared.

I often felt she held herself responsible for what happened to him.

- If you don't mind me asking, when did she die?

- Six years ago, in a climbing accident.

- [Susan] Who was this woman?

- Just someone I met.

(dog whining) (laughs) Westies.

I've got one.

I had one myself.

- Yes, we know.

They told us.

- I buried him up on Ben Bheinnie.

A lovely spot.

(dog whining) My friend John's making a wee stone that we'll place there when I get back.

He was called Jock.

- That's a common enough tag for a Westie.

This wee one's called Jock, too.

- Jock's the last of Judy's litter.

And, well, Susan and I were wondering if you'd... (dog panting) - What, me?

(Hamish laughs) (children chattering) - [Isobel] Who's this?

- Isobel, this is Jock.

- Hello.

- No, Jock II.

(dog barking) Take us home, will ya?

(men chattering) (wind billows) - And I'm telling you, it was all meant to be.

I had a warning.

- Ah, I thought you might.

- Well, think about it.

If those men hadn't killed Wee Jock, you would have never gone out after them alone.

If the police had caught them, you'd have never known anything about the wee boy, would you?

- What if I'd have killed them before they told me?

- Ah, you wouldn't have done that, would you?

What will I play, Hamish?

- Play something sad, John, eh?

Play something sad for Wee Jock.

(downbeat bagpipe music) (sparse solemn music) (downbeat bagpipe music)