Episode 6 of MobLand, titled "Antwerp Blues", changes everything we thought we knew about the Harrigan power structure. When Vron Stevenson dies in a car bombing at the end of episode 5, all signs point to Maeve Harrigan as the mastermind, especially after Vron publicly insulted her at Tommy’s funeral. However, in a tense moment at the Cotswolds, it's not Maeve who takes responsibility but Conrad. Calm, collected, and entirely too proud, he claims the decision as his own.
Conrad didn’t kill Vron. But he said he did, and that is what really matters.
That lie reframes the murder and the very foundation of who really is in charge, thus begging the question: was this a desperate attempt to reassert control or a cover for something far more dangerous?
The illusion of power: What Conrad wants everyone to believe
For most of the series, Conrad Harrigan has walked a thin line between reputation and reality. Once known as "Conrad the Dread" and "100 Guns Harrigan," he ruled London’s criminal underworld with an iron fist, or so the stories say.
From the very first episode, though, MobLand makes it clear that the legend no longer fits the man. Behind the bluster is an aging patriarch struggling to maintain his grip on a crumbling empire.
This is why Conrad's taking credit for Vron’s murder matters more than the truth. Even if he's only responding to everyone else's, he has to appear to be in control, calling the shots. Claiming the hit allows him to maintain the idea that he is still in charge and that he is still feared. That the name Harrigan carries weight because of him, not Maeve.
But the cracks are obvious. His wife has been making plays behind his back, his sons are taking sides and his enemies are circling. By saying he killed Vron, Conrad is lying, but not only to others. He's lying to himself.
The real mastermind: Maeve has been pulling the strings all along
If Conrad wants to believe he's still the one calling the shots, Maeve knows better. From the earliest episodes, she has positioned herself as the true strategist of the Harrigan empire. Whether pushing Eddie to take out Tommy Stevenson or manipulating Kevin into protecting the family name, Maeve does not bark orders. She whispers them.
Her influence over Conrad is especially telling. He rarely makes a major move without Maeve first suggesting it, challenging him, or outright provoking his ego. Even the decision to forgive Eddie did not come from compassion but calculation, and that calculation was Maeve’s not Conrad's.
In the case of Vron, all evidence points to Maeve as the one who set things in motion. She had motive, means, and the cold detachment to follow through. Vron humiliated her in public, something Maeve would never leave unpunished. Conrad’s version of the story conveniently omits who actually ordered the hit, and Paul’s quiet corrections in episode 6 further suggest that Conrad may not even know the full truth himself.
Maeve’s game is bigger than revenge. Each move she makes further isolates Conrad, consolidates her control, and removes from the equation anyone who might stand in her way. At this point, she's not just orchestrating violence. She's rewriting the hierarchy of power inside the Harrigan family.
Who really killed Vron? The answer hides in silence and Antwerp
The most brutal detail about Vron’s death is that no one ever confirms who gave the actual order. There is no flashback, no confession, no hitman revealed. Just the aftermath. But if MobLand has taught us anything, it's that silence is often more revealing than action.
And that silence points to Maeve.
Vron publicly humiliated Maeve during her son’s funeral. The next time we see her, Maeve is composed, cold, and not particularly surprised that Vron is dead. Conrad, on the other hand, fumbles through his claim, gets details wrong, and is quietly corrected by Paul. That alone speaks volumes. It suggests that not only did Maeve order the hit, but she may not have told Conrad at all.
Then there is Antwerp.
In episode 6 of MobLand, we learn that Maeve betrayed Seraphina by leaking her location to Richie Stevenson during a ruby deal in Antwerp. It was a calculated, quiet move. No drama. No confrontation. Just another removal of someone inconvenient. That same episode, Vron is already gone, and Conrad is scrambling to look like a man who's still in control.
The title Antwerp Blues is not just a nod to geography. It's emotional and strategic. Antwerp becomes a symbol for how Maeve operates: far from London, far from the noise, where backroom betrayals and silent power plays happen under the radar. In that sense, Vron’s death and Seraphina’s setup are part of the same pattern. Maeve eliminates problems before they grow teeth.
By the end of the episode, it's clear: Vron was never Conrad’s enemy to vanquish. She was Maeve’s problem to erase.
Lying to survive: Why Conrad protects Maeve, even from herself
There is a version of this story where Conrad is simply a narcissist clinging to relevance, but MobLand is not that simple. His lie about killing Vron might not just be about ego but survival.
Conrad knows Maeve is dangerous. Maybe not in the way the world sees him, all rage and bravado, but in the quiet way she reshapes the chessboard. By taking the blame for Vron’s murder, he does more than protect his image. He shields Maeve from scrutiny. He pulls the spotlight toward himself and away from the real puppet master.
Why would he do that?
Part of it may be pride. Part of it may be fear. And part of it might be love twisted into loyalty. Conrad has spent decades beside Maeve. They built this empire together, even if she has been the one holding it upright in recent years. Perhaps he still believes there is something worth preserving. Or perhaps he knows that exposing Maeve would mean losing what little power he has left.
There is also the strategic element. By positioning himself as the executioner, Conrad redirects Richie Stevenson’s wrath. If the war reignites, it will be aimed at him, not her. And in a crime world built on retaliation, taking the heat could buy Maeve just enough time to make her next move.
That kind of lie is not just protective. It's calculated. And it might be Conrad’s last move before he gets wiped off the board.
MobLand: A dying empire and a crumbling facade
Kevin Harrigan says it plainly in episode 6. What they're watching isn't just chaos. It's the slow death of an empire. And Conrad knows it too. The power he once had was built on fear, loyalty, and legacy, but all three have eroded. Now, he's a man performing power rather than wielding it.
Maeve and Eddie made major moves without him. Paul no longer bothers to hide what he knows. Even Seraphina has started building her own alliances. Conrad may still live in the family estate, may still speak like a king, but the crown is already slipping.

That's what makes his lie about Vron so haunting. It's not just a bid for control. It's a last-ditch attempt to stitch together the illusion of leadership, even as everything around him falls apart.
Taking credit for the hit is his way of reminding the world—and himself—that he still matters. That he's still dangerous. That he's still "Conrad the Dread." But the truth is clear. Maeve is the one making decisions. The Stevensons are rearming. And the Harrigan name no longer means what it once did.
By the time the credits roll on Antwerp Blues, we're not just watching the aftermath of a single murder. We're watching the slow, deliberate dismantling of Conrad Harrigan’s legacy from within his own family.
Conclusion: The lie that tells the truth
Conrad didn’t kill Vron, but in claiming that he did, he gave the audience exactly what MobLand thrives on: a glimpse behind the performance.
The power struggle in the Harrigan family has never been about who pulls the trigger. It's about who controls the story afterward. Maeve is the one making the real moves. Conrad is the one scrambling to keep up, clinging to an identity that's been hollowed out from the inside.
His lie is not a slip. It's a strategy. A cover. Maybe even a confession of everything he wishes were still true.
In MobLand, the truth is dangerous. But a lie, delivered at the right moment, can be even deadlier.