By Tom Morton

A passing knitter muses: “Those are funny looking bullets. Are they suppositories? They look like suppositories.”

If this is true, it explains…not much. But maybe Logan Roy First Blood Rogue Male Cragganmore has a small craft business casting not his own bullets, but suppositories used for…I know! Smuggling drugs! Of course, you’d need a lot of them. And a lot of people to, ah, deploy them. Surely the extraordinary forensic unit run by ancient GP Granny Island will be able to tell if the bullet press was pressing bullets or rectal containers for drugs (or morphine, like in Trainspotting, or possibly illegal salmon farm chemicals)? The information will be available by the end of the day, or programme, whichever comes first.

Meanwhile, Logan’s on the run and breaks into the Kilmuir household so he can wash his face and tell Fraser’s pal Molly his son’s dead. Then he steals the same red car that caused all the bother, trying to run Alex Galbraith off the road back in episode one. It’s been repaired, obviously.

“Cancel the ferries! The isles are in lockdown until we’ve got Cragganmore in a cell!” Peerie Jimenez is excited. Mainland journalists are here to cover Eve Galbraith’s election press conference. “Strand them! Strand the bastards!”

There’s a long period of chatting in the copshop to try and explain what is becoming (becoming?) a completely incomprehensible plot. It doesn’t help. Something about Maurice Ross’ care home fees and the shagging legal secretary with the dodgy consultant husband. Or something.

A knitter comments: “This is totally unrealistic. Nobody’s even knitting.”

It’s been clear from the end of last week’s show that it was Logan who shot Fraser in a frenzy of PTSD and balaclavas, but we’re going to have to put up with more Iraqi flashbacks and some extremely heavy-duty actoring from Stephen McCole. Hell’s teeth, he’s even stained his jumper.

“Someone sent those bastards to my door!” Would you Adam and Eve it, he thinks it’s the prospective MP? No political party named, by the way, but she looks like a Liberal Democrat to me. I mean, to get elected in Orkney and Shetland you really have to be. That haircut, too. But no Lib Dem would do such a thing. He should read the manifesto. It clearly says that No Balaclavas Shall Be Worn and craft suppository manufacturing will not attract HIE grants (might have been different under EU rules; just saying).

Duncan arrives in Hillswick with a bag of DVDs to entertain Donna Killer Killick (as Opposed to Kate Not a Killer Kilmuir). “I borrowed them from Jimmy. He’s got quite strange tastes.” Yeah, we know. He thinks Jaws is the best film ever made (he’s wrong; the original Dumb and Dumber is the best film ever made). Donna wants to go out, though, which considering she’s a convicted murderer and everybody hates her, seems…just a tad unwise

Next minute, or month, or later anyway, Duncan’s in a sweetie shop and a council worker is spitting in her face. It’s a traditional Shetland greeting, but Donna doesn’t realise. Take me home! Dunc makes a cup of tea but suddenly Kate Not Killer Kilmuir arrives to complain about her sister being killed by Killer Killick. I forgive you, she simpers. There’s going to be a tearful embrace! There will be convivial spitting, probably.

Err…no.

“Fuck you Kate and fuck your forgiveness. Your whore of a sister got what she deserved.” Reproduced verbatim. Totally unrealistic as no one ever swears in Real Shetland. Killer Killick then subtly enlists Dunc in assisting her future departure from this mortal coil. He’ll be looking for some of those morphine suppositories.

Billy the Beardie Cop was in Trainspotting, so maybe he knows about suppositories. There used to be a band in Shetland called Suppository Business but they dissolved. Anyway, Cragganmore’s at Hay’s Dock where he’s planning to shoot Eve the Lib Dem, which seems a bit extreme. Effortlessly, he evades the hordes of (well, three) cops who have been moved from MOT and red diesel duties, and teams of vigilante passengers who are furious that the ferry has been cancelled. We’re in the (gorgeous) museum boat hall, but although he aims, he can’t pull the trigger. Pesky PTSD. Maybe it’s dodgy Niven, Eve’s campaign manager, to blame for everything. He runs an engineering company with brother Struan, having been left it by his dad, who was presumably called Farquhar. All traditional Shetland names. I bet they know how to make bullets, but that might just be a supposition. Or a suppository.

A Toyota Hilux belonging to Niven was used in the attack on Fraser and Logan! Proper pickup! Head to Jim’s Garage for great service folks. They’re recommended. Check the model year on Hi-Luxes, though, some of them rust.

Highlight of the week though: It’s the Return of the Primal Screaming Non-Nun. First, at the funny nunnery she gets a card with “Shhh…” written on it. So clearly she knows what the hell is going on. Stop screaming, sister! Then suddenly she’s on her way to Dundee to visit a pal but can’t because of the ferries being cancelled. She’s got a backpack. It is the Burden of Her Immense Sinfulness!

Months pass, because it’s summer. Then it’s not. Then it is. Then it’s Lerwick. Then it’s Greenock. Then it’s Kilbarchan. It’s snowing. It’s raining cats and frogs. Then it’s New Cottage up at Eshaness where Cragganmore is being dropped off by pal Nassir. Characters pile up. Fiona the shagging secretary. The dodgy consultant, her husband. They’re off for a picnic reconciliation at Lunna. Here’s Fraser’s mum. The guy from the dive boat. The chef from the dive boat. Malcolm Ross the mysterious old man with the missing daughter (bet it’s the non-nun). Not Malcolm, Maurice. Not pronounced Mo-reece. Rip it up and start again.

Niven gets a Calor Gas cylinder through his window and much beating up by Cragganmore. Then Logan realises that Eve’s daughter Merryn and her pals have something to do with the attack on his cottage, even though Deep Down He Knows The Terrible Truth.

So we end up at Meal Beach. Jimmy, the entire Shetland police force apart from the Trainspotting guy (four of them), and…Katie Morag and the Big Boy Cousins! Turns out Merryn’s hooliganesque neddy pals were wearing the balaclavas! Everyone goes wild swimming, which is very popular these days. Orcas attack! All are eaten and it’s The End! Phew!

No, I was hallucinating. Those craft morphine suppositories will do that. All survive. A wet Perry and a wetter Cragganmore are soggily saved and back in the cop shop for more Iraqi flashbacks. The donkey jacket is off to the dry cleaners. It was getting a wee bit tight anyway.

So it turns out Cragganmore killed a bad torturing sergeant in Iraq, hence the flashbacks and guilt. And – it’s the end of the day – the forensic results are in: they prove that Fraser was killed by one of his bullet/suppositories. But – get this – even though Alex G was shot with a homemade bullet/suppository too, it was not the same as the ones Cragganmore made. There are two craft suppository makers in Shetland! At least.

Meanwhile, Donnie (and seriously, the Donnie/Tosh relationship is the best written and best-acted thing in this whole series) reveals what we knew all along, that deranged local Sandy (see those frowns!) has leaked the pictures of the Killer Killick killing to the press. What do you mean, you’d forgotten all about that? What do you mean, you didn’t know that in the first place? What do you mean? What does any of it mean?

I don’t care, the Screaming Non-Nun is back, wandering with her Burden Of Sin high on the boggy moors (it’s winter again). She tears off her cross and buries it. She is not screaming, but is clearly now an ex-non-nun. Reverse!