All language subtitles for Dempsey.and.makepeace.S01E01.DVDRip.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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Dempsey.

Yeah.

What time, Joey?

OK.

Sure. I'll be there.

Hey, champ.

Ready for promotion?

This could be the big one.

Now where have I heard that before?

You don't believe me, do you?

Just think of yesterday's boots,
Joey.

Hey, come on, I'm telling you,
this cat turns out fat enough,

us two's gonna face the press.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Hey.
But not like the first time, huh?

- Remember?
- Nowadays, that's an improvement.

Yeah, thanks.

Why did you set this up alone?
We always work together.

We ARE together. Huh?

Come on.
We'll take the truck from here.

- Pick 'em up.
- Nah...

I dropped the bag
when I passed them. OK.

Go by there.

He said the stash
is in a brown paper bag.

I see the bag.

Eddie's gonna go to the man,
say something to him,

hand him the bag...

...then we grab him.

Hope they make a move
before I catch some dumb fish.

He's maybe not here yet.

- What?
- Stay cool.

- Joey, what the hell's going on?
- Why, what's the problem? What?

- You didn't tell nobody else?
- No, nobody, why, what?

- Our boss just drove in here.
- Coltrane?

- Coltrane.
- You're kidding?

In the end,
this don't smell good, Joey.

He's going to Coltrane.

- He's gonna give the bag to Coltrane.
- And Coltrane must be the man.

Get them, get them!

Should've had me, Joey.

Should've had me.

O'Grady, will you listen to me?

Dempsey, your brain's fallen out.
It's Coltrane's word against yours.

Give me 48 hours. 48 hours!

Find that fink, Eddie.

I'll make him sing the truth if
I have to nail him up by his thumbs.

You think you could identify him
once you found him, huh?

No sweat.

Look anything like that?

When did they get him?

Yesterday afternoon.

Do I have to hand in my report?

This is big and nasty, isn't it?

Way beyond Coltrane.

But what the hell?

I might as well go nail Coltrane
right now.

- Hold it! Hold it!
- What have I got to lose, huh?!

I'm next on the list, right?!

If I'm gonna go down,
I'm gonna take Coltrane with me.

Because you feel bad about Joe?

Not as bad as if he'd have shot me.

Now you listen to me good, Dempsey.

We'll get Coltrane,
but the time isn't right.

- And when it is, we'll need you.
- I'm here.

What am I supposed to do,
sit on my butt?

Practise swimming with a bullet
in my head and some cement flippers?

We're getting you out of here.

What? Stay in the precinct,
and they'll shoot you.

Post you anywhere in the state,
and they'll get to you.

You know that.

If the corruption is that big,
we can't hide you inside the force.

Get it?

O'Grady...

...you laying me off?

You're laying me off? Huh?

After all these years?

I haven't even got
a full pension yet.

What am I supposed to do, huh?
GET A JOB?!

I'm a cop.

It's all I know how to do.

It's all I can do.

We found a niche for you, Dempsey.

In London.

England.

England?

England.

3,000 miles from New York,
that's all.

- Have you ever been to England?
- No.

Oh, you'll like it.

My wife and I went there last year,
we liked it.

What kind of niche?

It's an exchange deal
with the English police.

A few guys a year,
they get some of ours,

we get some of theirs.

Bologna swung it
so that they get you.

You'll be attached to, er,
a new outfit they started there.

Oh, it's all undercover,
but UNDERCOVER.

They're not on computer's files,
nothing.

The Brits can get away with that,
unlike us.

You'd be doing the same type of work
as you've been doing here.

Except nobody there
is going to know who you are.

And nobody here is gonna find out.

Apart from you two?

No-one.

Can you get a pastrami sandwich
in England?

If you can't, I'll mail you one.

On rye. Don't forget the pickle.

I'll check on it personally.

This London...

...is it like LA?
Need a car to get everywhere?

Well, you've still got
your department card.

Rent one at the airport
till you find out.

Got an escort, you know.
Forget about it.

If there is a reception committee
waiting for me in London...

Nobody knows
you're going over there.

If there is, I'm telling you,
I'll have them...

...and I'll be back for you
and Bologna.

And Coltrane?

You first.

I'm saving your skin, Dempsey.

Know something, O'Grady?

I think I'm saving yours.

Do you think the limeys
can handle him?

They handled Argentina.

It's a good thing
that guy's straight.

Can you imagine if Dempsey
was a hood?

10,000 man hours' work
went into preparing that.

I'm afraid the Attorney General
himself concurs.

In the current political climate,

the Crown would prefer something
more than a 60-40 chance

of conviction before proceeding.

I'm sorry, Superintendent.

Ah, Spikings,
no joy from C division,

- they haven't any chaps to spare.
- Not of the quality you'd insist on.

If less money was being poured away
on fancy sirens

and plastic riot shields,
we could afford a few...

However, I do actually have someone
for you whom I hear is rather good.

- From what branch?
- He is not in fact one of us,

he's part of, er,
an exchange experiment

we're trying with New York Police.

Are you offering me a bloody Yank?

Thank you, bye-bye.

Hi. I need a car.
Course I need a car.

If I needed pizza,
I'd go somewhere else, right?

Don't mind me,
I'm travelling a long time.

- Do you take this card?
- Yes, of course, sir.

- Great, is there a limit on this?
- No.

What kind of car would you like?

Well, this is for a friend of mine,

his name's O'Grady,
I wanna surprise him.

What's the most expensive car
you've got?

You know, I've got a feeling,
Chaz, old son,

- this just isn't going to be our day.
- Hello?

Yeah, he's here now.

- Governor?
- Who is it?

Smithfield market. Another murder.

OK, I got it. That's pretty easy.

So I just follow this M4
all the way down?

- That's right. Keys.
- Thank you.

Listen, thanks also for the tip on
that apartment, I'll check that out.

It'd be nice to have a place to park this
thing in front of, you know. Brenda Johnson.

- Enjoy, Mr Dempsey.
- I will.

- When did it happen?
- About three in the morning.

Refrigeration, makes it tricky.

There'd be a lot of people
about then.

I've set up a mobile incident unit.

We've got one or two to question
already.

What's this stuff?

Caviar.
There's some more in his pocket.

Just one more, Gov.
Tourist bloke. Sam Johnson. Oh.

Well... what's this information
you have for us, Mr...?

Dempsey. Lieutenant, NYPD.

Reporting for duty.

Where did you get that fancy car
you arrived in?

I rented it at the airport.

How long do you intend to keep it?
Till O'Grady stops paying for it.

When will that be, do you think?

It depends on how guilty
he feels about me.

I will never feel that guilty,
Lieutenant.

I hope not.

And I don't accept threats
from anyone.

Neither do I.

Least of all... Yanks.

About nine months ago,
another porter was killed.

We thought it was an accident.

Then we heard some rumours
about a stolen lorry load of caviar.

- Lorry's a truck?
- Truck.

Funny thing was,
it was apparently uninsured.

At least, nobody came forward
to collect.

Checked with all the insurance
companies?

In London, yes.
If it'd been covered abroad,

- Lloyds would probably have heard of it.
- Mm.

Do you know the retail value
of a lorry load of caviar?

It's more than my per diem.

A 40-ton load
would be 16 million quid.

- What's a quid?
- A pound.

Right. And the truck
just didn't show up, huh?

No, not that we heard of.

If it ever really existed.

That much caviar,
that'd take an oil tanker

full of champagne to wash down.

- Is there that much of that stuff around?
- Good question.

It could've been stockpiled

or smuggled out of Iran
after the revolution.

And the dead guy...

he must have known something
about this, huh?

Up until yesterday evening,
definitely not.

How come?

That's the last time
he contacted me.

He was undercover.

One of my best men.

Sorry to hear that.

What matters now is...
when they tortured him...

did they find out he was a cop?

In New York, pros don't kill cops,
not if they can help it.

Same here.
But I can't take the risk.

I've got another detective
working undercover on the same case.

Sergeant Makepeace, who will now
have to be brought in from the cold.

Makes sense.

Come to think of it...
I'll put you two together.

I mean, since you walked into
the middle of it this, so to speak.

Yes...

Sergeant Makepeace would be
a good detective to show you around.

Suppose we don't get along?

Oh, er...

...I think you'll get along.

Sharon,
be nice to the customers, eh?

Do us a favour, they love
the rough treatment, you know it!

- Can I have a hanky, darling?
- In a moment.

Look, you've got a big hole
in your stocking.

And there'll be a bigger one
in your head

if you don't get out
of my bleedin' way.

Oi!

Six large Bacardi and cokes,

four light ales,

a snowball, a screwdriver...

and six bags of crisps.

- Mm, sex machine!
- Leave off, Phil.

I've got a right smart party
for you to come to tonight, love.

No, thanks.

- Here.
- That don't buy you nothing.

57 Grosvenor Square in the West End.
You'll love it.

Yeah? I've got a husband
who would an' all.

Bring him too. Mention my name.

If you've got a man in here,
let me find him.

- Is he an informer?
- Not exactly.

- What do you lot want?
- Lager.

What about you?

Scotch on the rocks.

Got no bleeding rocks here, mate.

You'll have to make do
with a lump of ice.

Listen, I'm looking
for a man called Harry Mac.

- Do you know who that is?
- What if I do?

- I want to speak to him urgently.
- Who the hell are you?

I'm his governor.

You're Old Bill.
I can spot you a mile off.

If you see him, tell him I'll be
at the warehouse all afternoon.

If I remember.

Hey... maybe this'll help you
remember, sweetheart.

Well, having done a light perusal,

I would say that your man
is not here.

You just spoke to him.

I want a watch kept on that embassy
day and night.

Oh, and, by the way...
any profit you make

selling your horrible carnations
comes back to me. OK?

Harry... Lieutenant Dempsey,
New York Police Department.

Lieutenant?

Lieutenant!

Sergeant Makepeace.

Pleased to meet you.

Hello again.

You heard about Willis?

Yeah. It was all over the bar.

- Anything helpful?
- Well, if you'd let me stay there...

- Your cover may have been blown.
- How?

He was tortured.

I have to get you out.

Can you stop treating me
with kid gloves?

- Every time something gets a bit...
- Sergeant.

Lieutenant Dempsey has been seconded
to work with us for a while.

He knows something
about this investigation,

so I want you to work together
on it.

You can also show him
how we operate.

We might even learn something
from his methods.

In New York,
they think he's hot stuff.

Who knows?
You might even make a team.

Price's is the firm
that Willis was working for.

They didn't know he was undercover,
and presumably still don't.

Two brothers, Dan and Tom Price.

That's Dan,
coming out of The Nugget Club.

Where you were earlier.

Who is this guy?

Phil Parris.

Of all the regulars of the club,
he's the one that doesn't check out.

- Does he work at the market?
- Uh-uh.

But he seems to know all the ones
that do.

There's something about him
that I've never been able to place.

You'd have sworn
he'd have a criminal record.

He was at the club today
before you arrived.

Funnily enough,
he invited me to a party tonight.

- Seemed quite incongruous.
- Yeah?

- Grosvenor Square.
- Maybe you ought to go.

- Can't now.
- Why is that?

Told him I was married.

- Did that put him off?
- Not at all.

- Told me to bring my husband too.
- Smart guy.

Has he ever seen your husband?

No.

Well, how about if I'm your husband
for the evening?

How does that hit you, Sergeant?

We hardly know each other.

Yeah, but what a great way
to find out.

Give me your address,
I'll pick you up around eight.

Hey...

You didn't have to go
to that kind of bother.

Hey, no trouble. You want 'em?

Oh...

Very classy, very classy.

I don't know about the glasses,
though.

OK. If you're ready, let's go.

We'll take my car.
Feel a little better, huh?

- Wait a minute.
- What for?

We have to rehearse our cover.

Here's some biog ideas
I've worked on.

One for you, one for me.

- I'm doing it.
- Doing what?

- The cover. Sam Johnson.
- Sam who?

Your husband. Sam the man!
Didn't know you married a jerk, huh?

- Tell you something else, though...
- What?

Well, either you come on like
that waitress you was playing...

or get back in your designer jeans

cos, er, in that outfit,
talking like you are...

...I find it real hard
to put those two together.

Look, "Leftenant..."

Lieutenant.

Somehow,
I don't think this is going to work.

Why is that?

I mean, how can we carry this off...
if we don't even like each other?

Well, who says
we have to like each other?

Lots of married couples
hate each other's guts.

We could be one of them.
What do you say, Sharon?

Baby?

How come they didn't take
our picture?

We're not important enough.

Sharon.

- Hello, Phil.
- I nearly didn't recognise you.

Is this the husband
you were telling me about?

Yeah. Sam, this is Phil Parris.
He comes into The Nugget.

He's the fella that asked us
to the party.

Oh, yeah. Sam Johnson,
pleased to meet you.

An American?

Hey, he's fast on the pick-up,
huh?

Don't mind him,
he's a bit jetlagged.

- Ah, just flown in?
- Yeah, New York, on a redeye.

- On business, is that?
- Yeah.

- And see the doll here.
- What is your business, Mr Johnson?

Buying and selling, making deals...
What's yours?

The very same.

Well, how about that?

Ta, love.

- What's your first name?
- Philip.

- You know whose party this is, Phil?
- A bloke called Moser.

I'd like to meet him, say thanks.

Well, he'd like to meet you too.
Anyone in the same line of work.

If you'll excuse me,
I'll just go and try to find him.

- It's a lovely dress, love.
- Thanks.

"Lovely dress, love"?

You're right, there is
something funny about that guy.

Question is,
is there something funny about us?

Thought I just saw Big Danny Price
over there. By the pillar.

Yeah, that's him.

Now, what would someone like that
be doing at a party like this?

Thank you very much.

- What the hell was that about?
- Maybe we look glamorous.

That's the same guy
that was on the door.

We weren't important enough before.

I think I'll go and...
powder something.

Let's split up for a while.

Sam.

- Sam?
- Hey.

This is the one
I was telling you about.

Buying and selling.
Sam Johnson, Abe Moser.

- Nice party, Abe.
- Thank you.

Imports and exports?

Yeah, the old in and out.
Right, Abey, baby?

Tell me, er, what kind of stuff,
Mr Johnson?

- Anything with a profit, I reckon.
- Aim of the game.

If you'll excuse me, gentlemen.

Interesting guy.

Oh, yeah, nice young fellow.
Plenty of energy.

Yeah, you could say that again.

You know, I don't think
Buddy Boy Phil is too happy

that I'm here tonight.

Oh?

He's trying to throw a curve
to my little Cockney princess.

- No?
- Yeah!

She ain't gonna catch it, though.
Cos now that I'm back,

I give her all the champagne
and caviar she likes.

By the by, wouldn't be interested
in buying a load of cheap caviar,

would you?

Here, have one more.
I want to make a toast...

- I want to make a toast.
- A toast. A toast!

I wanna make a toast...

...Abe, to my beautiful wife, Sharon.

This is to us. Sam and Sharon!

Sam and Sharon!

They're on a second honeymoon.

They didn't even spend the night
together,

he just got off the plane.

Cos I've been hanging out
with you bums!

- You're drunk.
- You're beautiful.

Tell me, Mr Johnson,
where do you stay when you're here?

I mean, do you rent a flat in London
or what?

- Abe, that's supposed to be a secret.
- Oh, come on.

Ah, it's a surprise.

Baby... it's up to you,
if you don't mind,

I'll tell in front
of all these beautiful people.

- Come on!
- Come on, come on, tell.

All right, all right.

I rented the honeymoon suite
at The Park Lane.

The honeymoon suite!

- Do you want to know the sad thing?
- What?

She don't love me no more.

I'm sure she does!

No, it's true. It's true, I mean...

...since I got off the plane,
after all this time...

...she hasn't even...

Shar...

Come on.

Baby?

Gimme a kiss.

Huh? Come on.

Aw, honey.
Go on.

Baby?

- Come on, baby.
- Come on!

Come on.

You see? You see?

Ay-ay-ay!

Sharon, what's the...?
Hey, Sharon! Hey, baby? Princess?

I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but I'm going
to have to put this in my report.

Put what?

You're drunk.

- You wanna bet, Sergeant?
- Come on.

I had two glasses of champagne
all night.

But I'll tell you,
there's a lot of plants

who are gonna have hangovers
in the morning.

I don't believe you.

Well, then, why don't you bust me,
take me back to the police station

and give me a breathalyser test?

But you'll be blowing more
than that down the tube.

- Why?
- Well, if you look in your mirror,

you will see a car behind us
with two men in it.

They've been there
since we left the party.

X-L-P-7-9-0-S.

Right?

Right.

Pity we're in my car,

otherwise we could have called
the computer and got a fix on it.

- What do we do now?
- What else?

- The Park Lane Hotel.
- That's another thing I wanted to...

Well, I'll tell you about that
spur-of-the-moment genius,

nobody else knows about that but
the people round that pool, right?

- Right.
- So you lose that car,

anybody shows up,
we'll know for sure.

You can have the bed.
I'll have the couch.

Good night, Mr Johnson.

- If you need any help, just call me.
- I will, "Leftenant."

Lieutenant.

You can say that,
can't you, Sergeant?

You just put your lips together,
and you go "ooh".

Freeze, police!

Stay down!

That was your last bullet!

I wanted to take him alive.

Thanks anyway...

Sergeant.

But good job.

"Honeymoon Ends In Hail Of Bullets."

All right?

"Unidentified Killer Gunned Down
By Off-duty Police Officers."

Well, we might be able
to scrape through with that one.

But I don't want the pair of you
to trouble your heads

about what is going to happen
when the hotel group

discover a hoax
and trace the leak back to us.

That's something
I'll have to deal with.

But would you please
just explain to me, the Johnsons.

The tragic and ill-starred lovers.

What the bloody hell
were they meant to be?

They were lures.

Lures?

Yeah, lures.

The guy that ordered the guy
to finito the Johnsons

thought that the Johnsons
knew something,

that the guys that ordered the guy
to finito the Johnsons

didn't think they ought to know.

But the Johnsons
didn't know anything.

Course they didn't,
we were the Johnsons.

I know you were the Johnsons!
My God, I bloody know it!

So? What's the problem?

Let me just ask you one question.

As you were the Johnsons,

you must surely be the best informed
on the subject.

What was it...?

That the guys thought
that the Johnsons knew?

Exactly.

Tell him, Sergeant.

The Johnsons were pretending
that they knew something

about the caviar?

Knew what?

Just something.

Nobody knows. They got shot.

Without even waiting to find out
what it was the Johnsons knew.

- Just hinting about it was enough.
- Same probably happened to Wilson.

Willis. Except he may have found
the caviar first...

- But the Johnsons...
- some of it.

Never knew anything in fact.

- They may have, but...
- You never knew!

- Me?
- Yes, you, the pair of you!

We don't know nothing.
Do we, Sergeant?

Then may I please just make
one tiny suggestion?

Without wishing to interfere
in any way

- with how you go about things...
- Sure, go ahead.

Uh...

Instead of pretending
to know where it is,

why don't you just maybe go out

and start looking for the caviar
instead?

You know something?
That's a good idea.

Is that what you've been getting at?

Trying to, Lieutenant.

OK.

Sergeant, let's go.

According to Company
House, there's no Moser and Co.

No Moser anything.

So I suppose it's down to
good old-fashioned legwork.

Hello.

Miss Harriet. What a surprise.

Hello, Phillpott. Erm...

This is my friend, Mr Dempsey.

How do you do, sir?

The pleasure's mine, Phillpott.

He's an American.

Oh.

Oh.

Phillpott,
I'd like to send Uncle Fred,

you know, Winfield,

some caviar for his birthday.

Half a pound of beluga,
to go on my account?

Very good, your ladyship.

- Um... But there's just one other thing, Phillpott.
- Yes, madam?

- I'd like some information.
- Oh, yes?

About...

caviar wholesalers.

Indeed.

Is it connected with your...
other activities?

It's all right, Phillpott.

He knows about me.

Oh. Good.

Tell me, have you ever heard of
a man called Moser,

- in all your years in the business?
- Moser...

Abe Moser. Cuban.

- Abe Moser? Are you sure it's Abe?
- Yeah.

- Caviar.
- Right.

Yes.

Oh, then he would have to be
the son of Morris Moser.

- Morris Moser?
- Mr Caviar, Mr Morry.

Oh, really?

Yes. I didn't know he had a son,
though.

We used to deal with Morris
before he died.

How long ago was that?

Over 50 years.

But then the brother took over.
Graham Moser.

And then the name of the firm
was changed.

- To what?
- The Star Trading Company.

Well, I don't seem to see it.

- See what?
- 40 tons of caviar.

Why don't you start there,
and I'll start here?

200 tons of olive oil.

Greece to West Germany.

50 government surplus
marine engines.

To Bolivia?

Probably for generators.

Hmm. Versatile, isn't he?

300 sides of Scotch beef

from Price Brothers to Hamburg.

More beef from the Price Brothers.

Here we are. Caviar.

Check export.

50 kilos of caviar...

Bought it for 5,000 pairs of jeans.

What's the date on that?

April.

That must be the stuff
they offered Phillpott.

Sold it all to the Dorchester Hotel,
the whole lot.

Let me see that beef stuff.

This hauling company,
the one with the logo.

Tragg International.

I think I've heard of them.

Prices use the same company
as Moser.

So?

So Price hires Tragg trucks,
so does Moser.

- I got it!
- What?

The caviar is in the beef.

Lieutenant...

Come on!

Wilson works...
Willis.

Willis works with the Prices.

He got his hands on some caviar.

Somewhere.

They killed him for it.

They dumped his body
in some other part of the market.

Nobody searched
the Prices' store room.

Because...

Because we assumed
they were his cover.

The Prices were at Moser's party.

The Prices AND that guy Parris.

With the greatest respect,
Lieutenant,

there are several flaws
in that argument.

Believe me, Sergeant, believe this.

Believe the nose.
The nose knows, I'm telling you.

I've got one too.

Well, don't it tell you nothing?
It all hangs together.

Yesterday morning, Wilson...

Willis...

found the caviar in the beef
in the Prices' store room.

And it's still there.

And if it ain't, it's because
the Traggs shipped it out already.

Tragg International are in it too?

Why not?

- What do you propose to do, then?
- Propose? I ain't proposing nothin'.

What I'm saying is that we go
stake out the Prices right now.

And the next shipment of beef
that the Traggs move out,

we follow it wherever it goes.

That's what you're saying, is it?

Yeah. You want me to make it
an order?

You, order me?

You're damn right.

I'm a lieutenant,
and you are just a sergeant.

WE don't have lieutenants.

You got one now.

Well, I'm not taking orders
from him.

Listen, babe...

Don't you "babe" me!

Sorry.

I would just like to say that
I think it's a hare-brained idea.

No sweat. I'll do it without you.

I didn't say that.

What DO you say, Sergeant?

It's crazy.

Let's do it.

- Look at this.
- What?

Hey, hey, hey. Look at this.

Let me see.

They're loading the beef from
our truck to one that rolled in.

No, they're not.

They're loading it
into both the new trucks.

Let me see.

What the hell...?

I don't know.

Do you really think
it means anything?

It means they're splitting up
the caviar.

Lieutenant, you are now convinced
that it is two loads of caviar?

It ain't any stupider
than one load of caviar.

It's the same hunch.
We're following a hunch.

They split the load in two,
that ain't two hunches.

Am I right, or am I right?

Relax, you're right.

Thanks a lot.

All right.
Now, you get ahead of the trucks.

Then pull the car across the road
like you got some kind of problem.

And then I'll be along shortly.

Thank goodness you stopped.

What the hell do you think
you're doing? You can't do that!

I don't think you understand.
I'm a police officer.

Oh!

What's the trouble, boys?

Hold on. I'm a police officer.

Easy. I'm a police officer.

Police business!
I need your vehicle!

Come on!

You OK?

You picked a funny place to camp.

Come on, let's go.

There they are. We've got 'em!

Right, come on. You're taking over.
Where's the throttle on this thing?

Come on, get in here.

- Got it?
- Yeah.

All right.
Now hold that pedal to the floor.

Just get me as close to that truck
as you can.

Closer! Get closer!

Someone's on the roof!
You've got a gun!

The gun!

Try it!

Argh!

Dempsey! Dempsey!

- You all right?
- Yeah, I think so.

Charlie 5 to control.
Mayday. Repeat, Mayday...

What the hell is that?

It ain't caviar.

Come back from where you are!

Don't try to escape.

You are under arrest.

Put your hands above your heads
and walk slowly this way.

Do not run, or we will shoot.

The missile warhead shipment
was legitimate.

It had full Foreign Office approval
and a Home Office licence.

The arms were arranged
through a well-known arms dealer...

who had full clearance.

His end-user certificates
were totally in order...

and had been double-checked by
the receiving military attache

at the other end.

Tragg International

are a 100%
old, established haulier company,

with long-standing relationships

with royal ordnance factories

and other weapons manufacturers.

Moser is a highly respected
middleman for arms shipments

which need cover during
politically uncertain periods,

with secret allied governments
or approved resistance movements.

The five men you killed, Lieutenant,
were...

...Special Branch officers,

called out by the MI5 department
which watches over

sensitive military shipments
in and out of the country.

If the shipment was kosher,
how come it was hidden in beef?

For protection against subversives,
which you were considered to be.

Damn it, Dempsey,
did you have to kill five men?

Couldn't you have...
killed one and wounded the others?

Are we suspended, now, sir, or what?

Of course you're bloody suspended.

The whole damn department
is probably suspended.

Special Branch
are gonna scream for blood.

MI5 will want a scapegoat.

Well, where do you think
the bloody axe will fall?

I got a familiar feeling
coming over me.

Well, I'm afraid it's a little worse
for you, Lieutenant...

given your problematical situation
in New York.

The Foreign Office
will strongly recommend

your deportation back to the USA.

What was that about you having
a problem in New York? Hm, Dempsey?

- Nothin'.
- Come on.

We're in this together.

Had a little heat on me in New York.

It's nothing I can't handle.

Seems to have been a bit warm
for you here, too.

Yeah, I'm running
a regular temperature.

I think it's big-city fever.
I read about it once.

WHY did we have to go chasing
your stupid bloody hunch?

My hunch was solid!

It was crazy!

It found those missiles. They
had nothing to do with anything.

They're connected.

It was coincidence.

- Everything is connected.
- How?

Don't tap your nose at me again.
I've had it! No more hunches!

It's my hunch.

And they'll finish me for it.
They'll ship me to New York.

But you try one more taste of that
caviar, they'll bump you off.

And you better believe it.

Why do you think Wilson - Willis -
was bumped off?

For finding some caviar?

And who was the hitman in the hotel,
who, incidentally,

no MI5 department
is claiming to have lost?

And who was the skell in the prison
talking to your boy, Spikings?

- I saw him at Moser's party.
- So what?

If the missile shipment was legit,

why would they bother
to bump us off?

I'll tell you why.
Because we were onto, or close to,

something really heavy.

There's no other possible reason.

It's big, and it stinks,
and all we got to go on is caviar.

It's my hunch,
but it's your butt too.

I'm out of ideas. It's your country.

You think of something.

- Hello, Abbott.
- Good afternoon, Miss Harriet.

I'll tell Lord Winfield
you've arrived.

Miss Harriet, sir.

Hello, Daddy.

Harry, my darling.

Thank you, Abbott.

Ready?

Mm-hm.

Sugar?

Oh, no, thanks.

You remember we agreed that you
would never ask about my activities,

and I would never ask about yours?

Well, I'm asking you now,

even though
it goes against the grain,

to help me.

What is it you want?

Information.

What, precisely?

My partner and I were told there's
a department of the Secret Service

which recently arrested
two presumed Israeli agents

suspected of attempted sabotage

of missile shipments
to a Middle Eastern country.

That is a statement.

What do you wish to know?

Simply...

if this particular department
exists.

Not good news, I'm afraid.

The department does exist,

and incidentally, the two suspected
spies were captured alive.

We know that.

I rather thought you might.

The only light-hearted thing
about the whole matter is...

The department in question,
you know,

it does have authority and status.

Come on, Freddie, get to the point.

There's no big secret now,
since he's retiring shortly.

My dear,

the head of this whole department

happens to be none other
than old Commander Duffield.

Uncle Duffy?

But he went peculiar.

Well, yes, exactly.

Well, they couldn't just
abandon him, after all he's done,

so they virtually
created this department for him.

Responsibility for occasional
inspection of the various shipments,

which are really
none of our business anyway,

that we know about
from our surveillance

of the factories that make them.

Hardly even a department, really.

Just old Duffy and some young fella
from the Foreign Office

to lick the stamps.

Abbott?

Abbott!

I almost forgot to thank you
for the old sturgeon roe.

Oh, the caviar? You got it?

Yes, arrived this morning.
Dashed generous of you.

But it's a bit of waste, really.

I've been having rather a lot of it
in recent months.

In fact, passed to me by Duffy.

He hit on a cheap supply,
apparently,

and snapped up a whole stack of it.

Thank you, Daddy.

Thank you.

If you want out... now's the time.

Don't be ridiculous.

Uncle Duffy?

Good gracious, Harriet, it's you!

Come in, come in!

Come in!

I was just passing by, and
I thought I'd drop these in for you.

Well, that's damn sporting of you,
old girl.

Ha ha! Come in, come in, come in!

Oh, yes...

You still look just like
your mother used to.

Now, then, where's, um...
Where's... Mark?

Mark? Mark, old fellow?

Where the devil's he gone?

It's a trifle hectic here
at the moment.

Erm, got rather a lot on.

Secret, of course.
Can't tell you about it.

Follow me. Ah.

It's lovely to see you, my dear.
Cheers. Cheers.

Ah! Mark, my dear fellow.

One of the advantages of age

is that you get good little nieces
like Harriet, here,

dropping in out of the blue.

And just look what she brought me,
eh? Eh?

Yes. How do you do?

Hello.

Mark, old chap, um...

Feeling a little bit pooped.

I was wondering if you'd mind

handling the inspection on your own
this evening?

Not at all. I'll go and chase them up. handling
the inspection on your own this evening?

Not at all.
I'll go and chase them up.

Excuse me.

Uncle Duffy,
are you feeling all right?

Oh, yes, my dear. Just been
rather a long day, that's all.

If you don't object,
I think I shall retire.

Off you go.

Good night.

Good night.

Oh, and, er...

Thank you for the birds.

Station 559.
Special assistance request.

Right away.

Dempsey and Makepeace...

Drop the gun, or we fire.

Drop the gun, or we fire.

Check the explosives.

Well...

Let me see.

I think I'll give you...

...ten minutes.

That should give you
all the time you need

to say whatever it is
you have to say to each other.

Ah!

Oh!

Goodbye, Lieutenant.

Sergeant.

Well, babe, we found the caviar.

That's true.

I'm sorry.

So am I.

How much time have we got?

Eight minutes.

I think I'll go down
and finish them off.

I'm taking off in five.

Get the gun! The gun!

- A little more to the left.
- To the right, surely.

- I meant your left, Sergeant.
- And I meant your right.

OK. Let's start over again.

- Ready?
- Start high.

- Go on.
- Slide it down so I can feel it.

Wait! Not yet, not yet.

Maybe we're doing this
the wrong way round.

- Huh?
- Maybe you should be doing this to me?

Sergeant, this is no time
for old-world humour.

Fire.

Get out! Get out of here!

Swing the thing around! Get it up!

Argh!

Get off!

Get off!

Don't shoot me.

Don't shoot me!

You wanna live, pick her up!
Pick her up!

Or I'll kill you.

Come on! Go for the door!

Come on! Get over here!

- There's the caviar.
- There's your mole.

Alias Mark Savory, MBE.

Who, as well as inspecting
missiles leaving the country,

also arranged to have them bugged,

so that the Russians
could control the fuses

of whichever warhead they chose

simply by tweaking
a gadget in outer space.

It was worth a fortune
to the Russians.

- But the only way they could pay for it was...
- Was with caviar.

- You figure out the rest.
- Dempsey!

I don't remember
the last time I slept.

I gotta lay down soon.

I guess I could check into a hotel
tonight, huh?

Start looking for an apartment
in the morning.

Then, there's always that honeymoon
suite, if it's still available.

Oh, yes, Dempsey, I've been meaning
to ask you about that.

Go ahead.

Well, how come
you'd already booked a suite,

when you told me it was
a spur-of-the-moment idea?

It was a spur.
It was just a different spur.

- Based on the advice of my father.
- Oh, yes?

Yeah. He always said,
"Whenever you check into a new city,

"always reserve
the honeymoon suite."

Even when you travel alone?

Well, like my father said,

you never know
when you might get lucky.

Corrected by 7kozlov
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