All language subtitles for Randall & Hopkirk Deceased s01e13 But What a Sweet Little Room.eng

Everything looks beautiful
this morning.

Well, this is it, darling.
My cottage in the country.

I hope you'll like it. I used to
spend quite a lot of time down here.

- Brrr! It's cold in here.
- Do you think so?

Oh, what a darling little cottage.

You take a look around
while I fix the heating.

You won't mind being
buried away in the country?

Didn't you know I was a country girl?

Oh, what a sweet little room!

- Darling?
- Yes?

- The door to the garden won't open.
- I'll be right with you.

Bunny!

Bunny, this door's stuck, too.
I'm locked in!

Bunny?

There's a funny sort of
hissing noise.

It's coming from under the floor.

Bunny! I'm frightened!

Bunny!

- How about that?
- How about what?

The coffee's not doing it.
I'm doing it with my vibrations!

Fascinating.
I'm sure we'll find a use for it.

What have you been doing all day?

Well. I got up, made the coffee...

Come on, Jeff.
We haven't had a case for ages.

It's not my fault
if the husbands are behaving.

Must be the weather.
It's cold for the time of year.

Look at those bills.
We're going bankrupt.

Marty, you've worried yourself
out of the grave.

Do you always talk to yourself?

Only when I'm alone.

- The door was open, I came in.
- I'm very glad you did.

- Coffee?
- No, thank you.

- Are you Randall or Hopkirk?
- Randall. My partner's dead.

I'm sorry. My name is Fenwick,
Julia Fenwick.

Well, now we've met,
why don't you sit down?

Do you trace missing people,
Mr. Randall?

Yes, that's one of our services.
What's his name?

HER name is Anne Fenwick.
I have a picture.

She's my aunt. She left home 12 days
ago and nothing's been heard since.

- Married?
- A widow.

- Boyfriends?
- Auntie Annie disapproves of sex.

Oh, people change their minds.

All kinds of people.

- Have you told the police?
- Yes.

- What did they say?
- Just a missing person to them.

Doesn't give them a yawn.

What's so special about Auntie Annie?

She's very rich.
And I'm her only living relative.

That's special.

That's right, take your time.

Oh, it's you.

The usual charming welcome.

This is Mr. Andrews,
the faithful retainer.

What are you doing here?

We'll talk about it inside, shall we?

Who is it?

It's her.
She's brought a man with her.

Mr. Randall is going
to help us find Auntie.

Why should he be interested?

Because he's an enquiry agent

and Miss Fenwick's
paying him to be interested.

Now. Nobody disappears
without leaving some clue.

Who are Mrs. Fenwick's
closest friends?

- She has none.
- I see.

Before she disappeared, did you
notice any difference in her manner?

Yes. Yes, I did. There was a change.

Yes? What sort of change?

She seemed more cheerful.

She began to care about
her looks again.

- Her clothes, that kind of thing.
- Had she met someone?

If she had, we never saw him.
He never came here.

Where did she go?
Where did she visit?

- Never went out.
- Never?

Only once a week
when she went to Madame Hanska's.

And who's Madame Hanska?

Mr. Randall? Please, come in.

What can I do to help you?

My aunt, a Mrs. Fenwick,
comes to your seances, I believe.

Anne Fenwick? Of course.

A charming lady, I know her well.
Please.

She's had a very
bad time these last years.

She has never got over
the death of her husband.

Your Uncle Charles, wasn't it?

- When did you last see her?
- About two weeks ago.

Why do you ask?

She walked out of her house 13 days
ago and hasn't been seen since.

How very strange.

I suppose many bereaved people
come to your seances.

Of course. That's why I'm here.

- They meet people, make friends...
- It has been known, yes.

Does my aunt have any close friends?

No, I don't think so.

She is very shy.

I wish I could help you, Mr. Randall.

- Perhaps I can.
- Oh?

You are an unbeliever.

There are more things
in heaven and earth

than are dreamed of
in your philosophy.

- Perhaps.
- You're not a bit distressed.

Why do you say that?

I have unusual powers of perception.

Don't try to deceive me, Mr. Randall.

I thought you'd like
one for the road, as they're closing.

I shouldn't, really.
I told you, I've got a car outside.

Yes, I know. Don't you remember?

- I said I'd drive you home.
- You did?

Yes, you gave me your keys.

I'm glad I met you, mister.
That's all right, then, isn't it?

- Bye-bye.
- Good day, gentlemen.

Come on.

- In you go.
- Kemble Street. 48 Kemble Street.

OK, fine.

Just here's fine.
Thanks for the meal.

It made it easier for me to tell you
what little progress I've made.

I didn't expect immediate results.
It must be difficult.

- You will keep looking?
- Sure. If you keep paying.

- I won't give up yet.
- I'll do my best.

I know you will. Goodbye.

Bye, Julia.

Can you identify the body?

Yes, that's her. Julia Fenwick.

Why me?

Found a card of yours in her handbag.
There wasn't anyone else.

- I suppose it was an accident?
- No doubt at all.

A drunken driver.
A salesman, with a wife and two kids.

- What did he have to say?
- Nothing.

When we'd sobered him up,
he couldn't even remember it.

Why was she employing you?

Her aunt disappeared
the week before last.

Well, you can't make anything
out of that.

No.

Not even a yawn.

- Where have you been?
- Hanging about.

- You're supposed to be helping me.
- You don't need me on this case.

I'll wait for something difficult.

Difficult? Well, we've lost a client.

Lost? What do you mean, lost?

She's dead.

Oh, well,
that's the end of that, then.

Is it?

You want to go on with it?

- I've got nothing else to do.
- It won't do us any good, you know.

There's no one to pay the account.

Aunt Annie might, if we find her.

Where do we start?

Madame Hanska. With a name like that,
she's got to be favourite.

Mind you, I've no time for mediums
bringing back the dead,

what a load of rubbish.

- Sorry, Marty, no offence.
- I'll ignore that.

Our missing widow,
is she, uh... is she well off?

- According to the niece, yeah.
- It's obvious, then.

Some fellow's helping her
to spend it.

- Why didn't she tell her family?
- She's not daft.

They're probably
on a beach somewhere.

Always the way. The happily married
are first to go over the top.

Can't wait to find another fellow.

- You believe that, do you?
- What?

Can you see my Jeannie
marrying someone else?

Best thing for her.

Oh, no, it isn't!
She wouldn't, anyway.

Marty, let's face it. You're dead
and she's very much alive.

I know that! She just wouldn't!

Hold on. There's someone out there.

Jeannie! Why don't you come right in?

- I didn't want to disturb you.
- I like you to disturb me!

- I thought you had someone with you.
- Er, no.

- How are things?
- Fine.

- Own up, love, you're depressed.
- Yes, I suppose I am.

Well, I'm putting a stop to all that.
You're coming to dinner with me.

It's my duty to Marty.
I know he'd want me to cheer you up.

Jeff! It's not cheering up
I need, really...

- What?
- I need something more than that.

- What's wrong with that glass?
- Vibration. The traffic.

I need something to occupy my mind.

You're quite right,
you need something to do.

How'd you like to go to a seance
as a wealthy widow?

I am not having Jeannie
going round ogling men!

A widow who wants to contact
her late husband.

- A case?
- Anne Fenwick, a widow. Disappeared.

Didn't you hear what I said? No!

She went regularly to seances
at a Madame Hanska's.

I want to find out
if she was picked up there.

There's always a wolf waiting around
for a nice, fat widow.

It occurs to me...

Jeff, I'm warning you!

It occurs to me that if you put in
an appearance at Madame Hanska's

- posing as a rich, romantic widow...
- Some gentleman makes a pass,

I follow it up and find out
whether he's wolf or lamb.

Vibrations.

We have a new face here tonight.

Good evening, Mrs. Ramsay.

Good evening.

Tonight, we friends
are gathered here...

for our mutual consolation.

We will think of our dear,
departed ones.

Clear your mind of everything else,

and just think of them.

Draw them to us.

I have a message!
A message from Cynthia.

Yes?

You have a secret fear.

You must be brave,

not keep it to yourself.

Things are not always as bad
as we believe.

Oh...

Do you seek a message, my dear?

- Yes.
- Whom do you wish to contact?

My husband. John is his name.

I cannot make contact.
There is no John.

- But Madame Hanska...
- No, I cannot make contact!

- Well, what happened?
- Nothing.

Just a message from Cynthia.
I think it's a waste of time, Jeff.

You'd better call Jeannie
off the case.

Oh.

You know, you mustn't be
too disappointed, Mrs. Ramsay.

You received no message?

No.

When I first came,
I made no contact with my Cynthia.

Not for a month or more.
You must try again.

- Thank you.
- Please, don't be discouraged.

- My name is Elliot.
- How do you do?

Madame Hanska's
changed my whole life.

I'd only been married for eight years
when my wife died.

It was a sudden, terrible thing.

You must be patient.

If you're in no hurry, the
Copper Kettle is around the corner.

Could I offer you
a little refreshment?

Why, thank you, Mr. Elliot,
I should love that.

We won't take the car,
it's just a short walk.

Ah, there's a table over there.

Good evening. Could we have
two cups of cappuccino, please?

- Or would you like something else?
- No, that'll be fine, thank you.

There she is.

That's my Cynthia.

It's three years now.

One day, my turn will come.

I will live again...
and we will be united.

One day you'll find another Cynthia,
Mr. Elliot.

Never.

But I'm being selfish,
talking of my own unhappiness.

You too have lost a dear one.
John, wasn't it?

- Yes, John.
- How long now?

A year.

A whole year. How I do sympathise.

Do you have a picture of him?

Not here, no.

Pity.

Thank you.

He was a handsome man,
I'm sure of that.

- Yes, he was quite handsome.
- I can just see him.

- Tall, dark...
- Oh, no, he wasn't very tall.

And he was fair. Blond, in fact.

Oh...

And this not-so-tall,
blond man, was he an artist?

- No.
- A musician?

No, nothing so romantic.

- He was in plastics.
- Ah! A captain of industry.

I suppose Johnny
could have been called that.

That's right, you talk about him.
There's nothing gives more comfort.

Perhaps you're right.

Do you know, Mr. Elliot...

I really think you're a petfect lamb!

Oh! Why, thank you, Mrs. Ramsay!

- Well?
- Let me get in.

He's not the bloke.

- How do you know?
- Jeannie thinks he's harmless.

- Well, I don't!
- Why not?

Who does he think he is?
You should have let me go in there.

What's the point? She can't see you.

Only I can see you,
and I sometimes wonder why.

Because I'm haunting you.

I don't trust that fellow!

From now on, I'm going to do
the following up - on my own!

Thank you.

- Can I offer you a lift?
- No, thanks. My car's down the road.

Yes, who is it?!

Oh, it's you. Yes, I did.

Name? John Ramsay. Blond,
medium height, pet name Johnny.

No, an industrialist. In plastics.

Exactly a year ago.
Coronary thrombosis.

Canadian. They came here
when he was forced to retire.

I see a figure... only vaguely yet.

He's clear now.

I see he's... blond.

He has... blue eyes.

He would be about 40...45.

I have a message. A message for Jean!

A message from Johnny!

- Is there a Jean here?
- Yes, I'm Jean.

Do you know Johnny?

He was my husband.

He IS your husband!

What is the message?

He worries about
your financial affairs.

He would have made
different provision for you.

He wishes he could advise you.

What must I do?

Arthur. Does that name
mean anything to you?

He is a friend of Johnny's.

Talk to him sometimes.
Talk to Arthur!

Arthur who? What Arthur?

Arthur... de... de Crecy.

Well, where do I find him?

Johnny is fading.

S-Spring...? Spring Bank.

Spring Bank? What's Spring Bank?

He... he's gone.

I could just understand Spring Bank.

Who else is there here tonight,
who'd like to contact a dear one?

You were right!

My nice Mr. Elliot must have passed on
all those lies I told him.

Madame Hanska knew all about
the husband we'd invented!

Good. Did Johnny have any messages?

Oh, yes, he's very worried
about my finances.

But he wants me to get advice
from a Mr. Arthur de Crecy.

- De Crecy.
- Do you know him?

Never heard of him.
Did he say where to find him?

Ah. Well, Madame Hanska
wasn't very clear about that.

All she could tell me was
two mysterious words - Spring Bank.

And then before she could hear
any more, everything faded.

Spring Bank. Springbank.

De Crecy... de Crecy.

Here we are. De Crecy, Arthur.
Springbank House.

It's on the Embankment.

You're phoning him?

And you're going to make
an appointment.

It's ringing now.

- 'Hello?'
- Hello?

Uh... Mr. Arthur de Crecy?

'This is Mrs. Jean Ramsay.'

Mrs. Ramsay, sir.

How do you do, Mrs. Ramsay?

It's very kind of you to see me.

Please, Mrs. Ramsay, do sit down.

I should be delighted
to do anything I can to help you.

But I must confess, I'm having
difficulty in placing your husband.

- Er... John Ramsay, you said?
- That's right, yes.

I, um... I put on my thinking cap
after your call last night,

but I'm ashamed to say
I can't quite place him.

There was a Ramsay in the City.

Oh, no, no, he was Canadian.
We lived in Montreal.

Ah! Now, that rings a bell.

He had interests in several
plastics firms there.

Oh! But of course, now I remember.
Forgive me.

- Care for a cigarette?
- No, thank you.

Johnny Ramsay. Sterling fellow!

Dear Johnny, how sad.
He couldn't have been much over 40.

My dear Mrs. Ramsay, what can I say?

What a sad affair, and you so young.

But... you say your husband asked you
to come to me for advice?

It's a whole year now.
You should've come sooner.

I know. But, well...

I've been attending seances
to try to contact Johnny.

I can see you don't approve.

Well, it seems a harmless way
of wasting one's time.

Oh, but it wasn't a waste of time.

I mean, I did contact Johnny.
It was he who told me to come to you.

Now, really, Mrs. Ramsay...

- Would you like a glass of sherry?
- Oh, yes, thank you.

But if there were nothing to it,
how would the medium know about you?

Yes... Yes, that's true.

Extraordinary! You say the medium
told you to come to me?

Well, her spirit guide
told me, through her.

Remarkable.

I must say, that makes me wonder.

I've never had any time for
that sort of thing, but there we are.

Perhaps I should
start thinking again.

And now, my dear young lady,
what sort of advice could I give you?

- Financial advice.
- Ah, yes.

But your husband
was a very capable man.

I'm sure he arranged
everything soundly.

No. He's worried.

Apparently, things have changed
since... since he...

Yes. Yes, that's true. Very true.

But I've no doubt he named sound
executors to handle your affairs.

The Statton Provincial.

Well, there you are!
Excellent bankers.

You can't do better than that.

Although, of course,
these mammoth concerns

can't always give their full
attention to the individual client.

But I'd have to think twice

before I disturbed any arrangements
that were in their capable hands.

So you would advise me, then,
to leave things as they are?

Yes. Yes, I would.

But, um... If I say yes,

I hope it won't prevent us
from meeting again.

I must confess that
I am a lonely person, too.

Perhaps we should help each other.

Are you free tomorrow afternoon,
Mrs. Ramsay?

Yes, I think so.

Well, come take a cup of tea with me.

If you wish, you could bring
your list of securities.

I'll be able to reassure you.

Thank you very much, Mr. de Crecy.
It's very kind of you.

Well, I must go now,
but I shall look forward to tomorrow.

Until tomorrow, then.

It really was an extraordinary way
of finding me, but I'm glad you did.

Goodbye for now.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye, Mrs. Ramsay.

They're all putty in your hands.

Mmm. Somehow,
I feel she was too cooperative.

Why shouldn't she be?

Nevertheless, I'd like to be
sure of her before we go any further.

- Well, wish me luck, Jeff.
- What for?

It's your securities he's after,
not you.

Good afternoon.

Mrs. Ramsay.

I am most dreadfully sorry,
but I can't keep our appointment.

- Oh. I have the securities.
- A board meeting, you see.

It went completely out of my mind.

I would have phoned,
but I didn't have your number.

Well... can we make it another time?

Yes. Yes, we will.

Perhaps you'd telephone me next week.
I am most dreadfully sorry.

We thought it was time we had a word,
Mr. Randall.

Madame Hanska has many devoted
friends, we're just two of them.

She knows nothing about this.

There's only one way
to deal with your type.

Don't restrain yourself.
Shout as loud as you like!

You ready to talk? Well, listen.

In future,
stay away from Madame Hanska!

We don't want to see any more of you!

You must not be concerned for her.
She is happy.

And she wants you to be happy, too.

There's another message,
a message for someone here.

Concentrate on him. Think of him.

Bring him to us,

bring him into our circle.

We are waiting. Can you hear us?

Yes... Yes, I can hear you.

Oh!

Speak... I can hear you now.

Who... who... What are you?

A departed spirit.

No, Madame Hanska,
they can neither see nor hear me.

Ask them to go, please.

You called me back.

Get shot of them.

The seance is over.
Will you all please leave?

Now!

Get a move on.

Close the door!

That's better. Now we can talk.

Are you really a ghost?

In the flesh, if you see what I mean.

And I brought you back?

All by yourself. Well done.

Success! After all these years!

Why did I have to wait till now?

Oh, I think your double-dealing
has had a lot to do with that.

- Double-dealing?
- Yes.

This de Crecy man.

No self-respecting spirit wants to be
tied up in a thing like that.

Yes, yes, I can see it was wrong.

Wrong? It was against all the rules.

But YOU came...

To save you, dear lady. I don't want
to see you wasting your talents.

Yes! My talents!

Can I ever make amends?

Oh, I think so,
but you must tell me everything.

I will, believe me, I will!

I know you will.

A Mrs. Fenwick came to see you.
Do you remember her?

- Well, that's it. We're off.
- It worked?

Petfectly. It made her day.

She's always thought of herself
as a fake. Imagine how she feels now.

- Fantastic.
- Actually, her aura was good.

- I had no trouble materialising.
- Congratulations.

She talked her head off.

She gets a commission from de Crecy
for every new account.

- Widow Fenwick?
- She was one of them.

- Where did she get to?
- That's the trouble.

Madame Hanska doesn't know.

You'll have to find that out
for yourself.

Get me a whisky, Rawlings.

Cheers. The name's Randall.

Rawlings!

He's taking a little nap.

I want some information.

Ah, I'll help you if I can.

What's become of the widow lady,
Anne Fenwick?

Fenwick? Anne Fenwick?

I never heard of her.

It's very convincing.
But Madame Hanska has told all.

Where is this Mrs. Fenwick?

Mrs. Fenwick, yes.

- You do know her?
- Yes, I do.

And you've helped with her finances?

Yes. It's an unconventional way
of getting business,

but she'll never regret it.

I'm delighted to hear it.
But where is she?

- I'm afraid I can't tell you.
- Oh?

Mrs. Fenwick has asked that her
present address be kept a secret.

- She should have told her family.
- Yes, she should.

But she happens to be
very shy and retiring.

She couldn't bear the thought
of the recriminations,

so she'll let them
find out for themselves.

And now, dear Mr. Randall,
I hope you're satisfied.

I will be, when I've met Mrs. Fenwick.

I'm afraid you can't.
I've promised to protect her privacy.

Well, in that case,
I shall have to call the police.

Uh, no. Not that it matters,

but this sort of thing
could mean publicity.

I have my reputation to consider.

Oh, I quite understand.

Well, let's meet Mrs. Fenwick,
shall we?

- It's a long drive.
- Then we'd better get started.

Right away.

- Is this where Mrs. Fenwick lives?
- Yes.

You can save all your questions
for her, Mr. Randall.

Beautiful here,
isn't it?

I'm a town man, I'd hate to be
buried away in the country.

But, er, she loves it. Mrs. Fenwick?

Oh, she must be out in the back.
Straight on, through the garden door.

Right in it, Jeff!
You walked right into it!

- Well, just don't sit there.
- I'm thinking.

- What's that?
- Gas.

It's coming from under the floor.

- Solid.
- There must be some way to save you.

We'd better think quickly.

He's making funeral arrangements
already!

- There is one thing I can do.
- What's that?

Do you remember the coffee cup
I rattled in the office?

- Fascinating...
- "I'm sure we'll find a use for it."

- Light the lamp.
- With all this gas about?

There isn't enough yet.
And by the time there is,

you'll be in the chest.

I hope you know what you're doing.

Are you sure this is going to work?

If it doesn't, welcome to the club.

Jeff, if you hear a big bang,
it'll be me.

It worked!

Jeff! It worked!
It's all right, you can come out now!

Jeff!

Jeff?

What can I say, Marty?

Have you got any aspirins?

Look out, here comes the landlord.

I want a word with him.

I'm here.

Don't run away out.
There's some more digging to do.

Mrs. Fenwick is out there, I take it?

Thanks again, Marty.

You just wouldn't understand.

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