All language subtitles for otley.1969.720p.bluray.x264-spooks

You know, as landladies go,
you are undoubtedly the most

warm-hearted,
generous and gracious

that I've ever owed rent to.

Three months is a lot to owe.

I'm expecting a cheque.

I've entered this filthy limerick competition
and I'm almost certain to win.

Not to mention
all the things you've lifted.

Hey, you're a naughty boy,
do you know that?

When you moved in here,
this was a furnished flat.

Now everything's on a second-hand
cart in the Portobello Road.

I never did trust your cleaning woman.

And what about the damaged sink?

And the confirmation medal
in the gas meter?

Dearest one, I thought
you came up here last night

to sample my unbridled sensuality,
not take a bloody inventory.

You are a luxury I can't afford, love.

Still, come here.
Come here and give us a goodbye kiss.

- Goodbye? Where are you going?
- Not me. You.

You're being evicted this morning.

I'm being evicted?
After our night of passion?

Well, I felt I had to get something
out of you before you left.

That's definitely rare, that is.
Genuine Queen Anne.

Well, I mean she had to do something
in her spare time, didn't she?

I wouldn't sell a piece
like that to anyone, lady.

- Got a spare bed at your place, Larry?
- Not tonight.

No, it's not often you get
anything like that, you know.

Hey, any chance of a bed?

And you!

Can you put us up
for a couple of nights?

Well, I'm... I'm sure
we can manage somehow.

Not a chance! You know how
pushed for space we are.

Hey, Rollo and Jean are
giving a party tonight, Gerry.

That'll keep you
off the streets for a while.

We weren't going to invite you.

You'd better come round
about, er, ten.

Oh, cheers.
Can you put us up as well?

- No, we can't.
- Oh, just for a couple of nights.

No. Miles is at home
and the dog's on heat.

Well, she's got nothing
to worry about from me.

Look, er... put this, er...
somewhere, will you, Gerry?

- Six quid?
- I'll take five.

Not from me, you won't!

Morning.

Pint of Guinness, love, please.

All right then, are you?

One thing about February, it makes
being indoors so pleasant.

It's nice, isn't it? Peace offering
for the wife for working on Saturday.

What are that lot drinking
through there? Is it hot wine?

- Yes, claret, mulled claret.
- Oh, that's a good idea.

- Oh, let me.
- No, I'll get these. What will you have?

- Er, brandy.
- A little early in the day.

Same again here, please,

I gave eight pounds for this.
Reasonable?

Yes. Yes, that's very good.

These stains will come off
with a bit of polish, won't they?

They were asking ten.

And what are you asking, Lambert?

Ten thousand.

Ah.

- Soda?
- No, thank you.

- Otherwise you go to Hadrian.
- Obviously.

I don't suppose I've got much choice.

You haven't.

I'm very thin, you know.
You'd hardly know I was in your bed.

You've surprised me, Lambert.

In all these, how many is it, seven
or eight years in the department,

you've never done that before.

Was it born out of
initiative or desperation?

I'm tired of British Februarys.

No doubt this is the last
you'll have to suffer.

With all that money
you have coming to you!

It'll look perfect in the den.

How much does eight pounds
work out at in dollars?

A swindle.

Eric, mon brave!

Didn't you notice me disarming smile?

- It means I want a favour.
- Not a chance.

Oh, then I shall assume
my sickly grin.

Look, Eric, about that sofa I got
for you. The Chesterfield.

What about it?

Somebody could easily sleep on that,
for a couple of nights?

Listen, Eric, do you want
to go to a party?

Apparently in Morocco, it's legal.

Of course, they don't have to
tell you out there.

Miles, will you please go to bed!

Oh, all right, but couldn't you
put on some decent records?

I think Marbella's marvellous.

Isn't one rather liable
to meet one's hairdresser?

Funny lot.

Who's the one getting
all the forelock touching?

Oh, that's one of our best customers,
Alec Hadrian.

Or rather Sir Alec Hadrian.

He's getting a knighthood
in a couple of weeks.

Oh, I didn't see the honours list.
Did I get anything?

Are you red or white?

Oh, you're full.

Oh, Albert, you are a pig!

Oh, Jean, this dip's marvellous!
What's in it?

Erm, nothing special,
the Tabasco helps.

I thought there was Tabasco in it.

- The pub?
- The dip. Tabasco.

It was in 1959, I think,

that they showed some of his stuff
at the Kaplan gallery.

Since then his prices have been

three or four times
what they were before.

What's this one?

That's an early Tabasco.
The Dip.

Gerry, have you met Sir Alec?
He's just...

Oh, yes, yes, I heard. Cheers.

Now who's not got drinks?

A lot of cultural fringe here tonight.

I suppose we'd better
discuss Antonioni.

Oh, no, I can't stand
all that Spanish dancing.

Well, who do you fancy here?

Apart from me, that is.

Anyone who can offer me
a roof over me head.

She looks the sort of bird
who'd have a roof.

Ah, yes..

I hadn't noticed her before.

You can't know many people in here.

When I don't know
many people at parties,

I always pretend to be
immersed in LP covers.

I know the whole of the
West Side Story sleeve notes by heart.

Right down to "Do not touch
the grooves with the fingers

"and avoid exposure to heat or dust."

- I brought you this.
- No, thank you.

But this is real chili con carne,

capturing the full, authentic flavour
of Mexican cuisine.

That's no mean feat when
you realise it's canned in Hull.

- I've captured it already.
- Seconds?

Listen, look, if I do want anything more,
I'll let you know, steward.

Madam, I am not the steward,
I am Gerald Arthur Otley.

To you, Gerry.

Nice house, don't you think?

Yes, very.

Yes, he's a
very tasteful fellow, Rollo.

Have you seen his
William Morris lavatory?

Never by moonlight.

Eric, darling!
I'm so glad you could make it.

Let me take your coat.

Excuse me. The very man.

He's either dead or terribly well,
I can't remember.

Eric, mon vieux!

Let me get you a drink.
Red, white or rosé?

It was a good buy, this,
you know, Eric.

Did you a good turn here.

Well, after tonight we're even.

You're a miserable old sod, Eric.

At least you've got
a place of your own.

Mind you, it's all a bit
frayed at the edges.

Like you, with your antique cuff-links
and your drip-dry cuffs.

You are an outstanding success,
are you, Otley?

Eric, you may not be aware
that I was last year's winner

of the Duke of Edinburgh Award
for lethargy.

You see, the thing is, about us
lower middle class

grammar school drop-outs,
we've got nothing to lose.

But you, well,
it must be very difficult,

with your old school tie,

and your family being
something in Rhodesia.

And there are all your
contemporaries cracking it,

all members of Lloyd's
or managing pop groups.

Huh?

I'm going to make some coffee.
Do you want some?

Oh, yes, please.
And, in the morning,

eggs and orange juice

and the News of the World.

I want you out of here
in the morning, Otley.

My Sundays are precious.

Never mind about the coffee.

How did...?

May I have your attention, please.

The charter representative
for flight number DA0231 to Athens

is requested to attend
Dan-Air reception desk number 26.

The charter representative
for flight number DA0231 to Athens

is requested to attend
Dan-Air reception desk number 26.

Could I have a Sunday Express
and the News of the World, please?

- Sorry, sir, no Sundays left at all.
- What?

None left.

But it's only twenty past nine.

Yes, I know, dear,
but it is Monday.

Is Mummy in?

The police have been round here
looking for you.

More toast, Gerry?

And leave your nose alone, Miles.

What sort of things
did the police say?

Well, you know, when we last saw you,
where you lived, that sort of thing.

They want to speak to you,
that's what they said.

They want to speak to you.
Gerald Arthur Otley.

Yes, do you mind?

You might be able to help them
in connection with their enquiries.

Miles, please, be quiet.

Why isn't he at school, anyway?

- 'Cause I've got the chicken pox.
- Miles, upstairsl

You are going to the police?

Yes. I've got nothing to hide.

Come on, upstairs.
You haven't even made your bed yet.

He was making coffee
when I last saw him.

The next thing I know I was
being run down by an aeroplane

at Gatwick bloody airport,
and I'd lost a bloody Sunday.

I was supposed to be playing
football Sunday and all.

Big match. Against Young's Potted Shrimps.

Bet we got hammered.

Door, Jean!

Door!

- Jean?
- Get it for me, would you, Gerry?

- Yes?
- Gerald Arthur Otley?

Not necessarily.

We must ask you to accompany us.

They're here.

About bloody time and all.

Who's "they"?

Shut your face, Wotley.

Otley. There's no 'W'.
It's just 'Otley'.

You can call me Wotley.

I hope this doesn't take long.

I think I've got a cold coming.

In fact I think it's flu.
You can tell.

That draught from that door.

When I get home I'm going to
get straight into a nice hot bath.

- How do you think I feel?
- Shut your face, Wotley.

- Ah, coffee! Good.
- Soup, sir.

- Has he had some?
- No, sir.

Well, I expect you could
do with a nice hot drink, Mr Otley?

Yes, please, sir.

Cheers.

Mmm, oxtail.

Er, could I have my shoes back?
My feet are like ice.

No, not yet.
A few questions.

I'd like to ask you a few questions.
But you ask your questions first.

Thank you.
Were you paid to kill Lambert?

- What?
- You killed Lambert. Who for?

I didn't kill Lambert.
I don't know anything about who did.

I don't know anything since Saturday night.
I was at this party. She was there.

You were there, weren't you?
Then I went back to Lambert's place.

Since then I've been to
Gatwick Airport, lost a Sunday,

I was having a shave,
and he hit me in the stomach.

And... well, you know.

Who do you work for?

I'm not working, I'm out of...
well, I'm self-employed.

Oh, you mean you work for anybody?

- What?
- Do you work for Proudfoot?

- Who?
- Philip Proudfoot.

- Do you know who ICS are?
- I've never heard of them.

Unless you mean the
Ipswich Co-operative Society.

- Well, what do you think?
- I think it's clear.

- Let's leave it at that then.
- I'd better make sure.

- Alone at last.
- Please, no more party patter.

Madam, when I
approached you the other night,

it wasn't your body I was after,
merely a room for the evening.

Will, er... this take long?

It depends on Mr Hendrickson.

Oh, old fleecy-lined?

Thing is, I've got
me driving test Saturday.

- Oh, really?
- Yes, I failed it the first time.

I cocked up the hill start.

Still, I should be all right Saturday.
The test's in Acton.

I mean, there aren't any
hills in Acton, are there?

Right.

All right.

Yes, that was a little bit
careless of you, wasn't it?

Still, it's nice to see some sign
of feminine weakness.

I prefer that to your butch image.
All woman of mystery and frigid poise.

- What's your name, anyway?
- Imogen.

Imogen? Sounds like something
you put on cut knees.

All right, Imogen,
out of the way.

Have you really not got
a driving licence at your age?

What's that got to do with it?
Come on, move!

I don't see why.
You're not going to use that.

Who isn't? Who killed Lambert, eh?

You certainly didn't.

- Move!
- No.

I've got the gun!

Yes, I know.

But you're not going to stand there
and blow holes in my young body, are you?

You're just a learner.

Oh, that hurt!
That bloody hurt!

Satisfied?

Well, you can deal
with him in the morning.

Look, I am aware that in your business
I'm merely a novice,

whatever your business is.

But, speaking as a novice,
it may interest you to know

that for the last three miles
we've been followed

by a beige 3.8 Jaguar.

Four miles, and it's a Daimler.

Come on!

Come on!

Excuse me, are you people members?

- Where are you going?
- This'll do me. You can have the car.

I'm going straight to the police.

Oh, I would if I were you.
ICS might get you next time.

Hey, wait a minute!

I've never driven one of these before.

Where's reverse?

Come on, get a move on,
you great fairy!

I'm not doing it on purpose,
you silly sod!

Daddy's car, is it?

Hello. Who?

Oh, all right,
we'll accept the charges.

- Who is it, Miles?
- It's that fellow Otley.

- Gerry?
- Look, Rollo, is my gear still there?

Yes, yes, I know, I'll explain later,
but is my gear there?

Yes, but so's the law.

They're outside, watching the house.

It's very embarrassing.

This your car?

Certainly not.

Why didn't you wait in the pub?
God, you're a sight.

Quite. That's why
I didn't wait in the pub.

I had to walk all the way here
in profile. Give us the jacket.

What's he doing here?

Chicken pox is infectious, you know.
I've already got pneumonia.

Well, I thought it would
look more natural.

The police thought I was taking him
to the doctor's or something.

But surely they wouldn't
follow you here?

Listen, Gerry, they want to
speak to you very badly.

Have you seen that?

God, is that me?

That settles it.
In half an hour and a shave,

I'll be straight round
to the nearest police station.

Assisting them in their enquiries!

To prove my innocence.

- But that may not be all that easy.
- It should be. After all, I haven't done anything.

Look, where are you
going to go to now?

I'll just nip round to
Lin and Albert's.

- Thanks, Rollo.
- Be careful, Gerry.

...living in this floating slum.

Not my department. If you don't
want it backsliding, tidy up a bit.

Not that you've noticed,
but I happen to be far from well.

You're all right.

I am not all right, I am ill.
I have been ill for over a week now,

and every time somebody rings up
and says "How's Lin?"

You say "Oh, she's fine, lovely!"

Well, that's just what people say.

Look, a bore is someone, when you
ask them how they are, they tell you.

It's just so annoying.

This morning I was being sick
and going out of my mind with this head,

Pauline rings up and you say
"Lin? Oh, she's marvellous."

All right, well next time
she rings I'll say:

"You've just caught her in time. Another
ten minutes, you might have been too late."

Hello, young lovers.
How are you both?

- Oh, fine, fine.
- Good. Good.

What's happened to you?

Have you seen this picture?

- Who is it?
- It's me, you fool.

Not a very good likeness.

- Hey, for the Lambert thing.
- Yes.

When was this taken?

You know, Cornwall, last year.

- You're just off the picture.
- Oh, is she?

Lin, love, could you get me
some hot water for a shave,

- and a bacon sandwich?
- Yes, of course.

- I'll do you some eggs as well.
- Oh, ta.

- It was St Ives, wasn't it?
- Yes.

That little cottage.

Here, wait a minute.
Do you mean they're after you?

Yeah, I'm what's known as
"on the run".

And you've come here?
What a bloody cheek!

Hold that bacon sandwich.
Your lover's leaving.

Come on, Gerry, shove off!

Albert, I thought I could rely on you.
We're in the same football team.

I mean, we're more than just friends,
you know. You're my inside right.

Yeah?
And who didn't turn up Sunday?

- Ten-one.
- Ten? I was missed then.

Look, I don't want the police round.

I've got enough pot in here
to stone an army!

Albert, Gerry is having
something to eat and a shave.

So you can shut your mouth
and keep watch.

Good lad.

You always were good at breakfast.

Oh, the smell of that bacon!

You know, I haven't eaten
for two days.

You weren't all that friendly with
Eric Lambert, were you, Gerry?

No, not particularly.

He was just around,
and I used to sell him the odd thing.

Only the papers are all on
about this Official Secrets Act.

I mean, it sounds as if he was another one
of those bent civil servants.

Eric Lambert a spy or something?

Silly sod.

Well, mind you, Albert's got
this friend, you know, Alan,

who's in Fleet Street,
and he reckons that...

Ah, we know all about
Albert's Fleet Street pub gossip.

It was him who told us the Mafia
were running the Sunlight laundry.

They're coming! They're coming!

I knew it! I knew it!
They're here!

Oh, pull yourself together.

It's all right for you.
I could get six months!

What a waste!
What a bloody waste!

Nepalese, you know.

They're not the police.

- What?
- No, they're more like the other lot.

- What other lot?
- Another day, love.

- Where are you going?
- To the police.

Ten-one, did you hear?

I heard.

Who's this, then?

Who's what, then?

Well, someone's just
arrived in your car.

Ah!
I'm hoping it is a Mr Otley.

Yes, I think it probably is.

Good morning!

Morning.

You'd better run along.

I thought we were going to have lunch.

Another day.

Oh, I'm sorry, er... To...

Otley.

Good. How do you do?

- Have you eaten?
- Almost.

I thought we'd have
lunch together, but,

as your face is all
over the Standard,

we'd better send out for some.

- Doris?
- Yes?

Get Franco to make us something up.

- Ah, well...
- On a tray.

- Oh, but what?
- He'll know!

Oh, Paul is staying with us,

so you won't try anything, will you?

- I doubt it.
- Lovely.

You know, I can never drink
red wine at lunchtime.

It makes me so sleepy.

Like it?

You've got to be careful
with this Persian stuff.

Most of it's made in Paris.

I am... careful.

What do you think of the room?

A bit Baghdad-Hilton for my taste.

Yes.

Well now,

sit down.

Question time.

Look, I've been up all night
answering questions

with somebody called Hendrickson.

I told him and I'll tell you,
whoever you are,

I did not kill Lambert.

Oh, we know that, dear.

No, what concerns us
is there might be other people,

who know what Lambert knew.

Yourself, for instance.

Well, I don't. And if I did,
you could have it. Cost.

Yes, well, you could be lying.

Yeah, but I'm not, am I?

Mmm. Thing is,
I ought to verify that, really.

By all means, verify it.

Mmm. That's the trouble.

That's Paul's job.

And he's so vicious.

He's got a thing against youth.

Now, hang on! That's a bit primitive.

By the time you realise I know nothing,
I'll have taken a hammering!

You're a sophisticated sort of a villain.
What about the drugs?

The truth things,
the old pentathol, then?

Have a go at me psyche,
leave me body alone!

Excuse me.

Proudfoot.

Yes, he's here.

Oh, we were just having a little chat.

Yes, I realise that,
but surely there's no harm in...

...there's far too much at stake
to take any chances. I told you that before.

But there's no need for Johnston yet.

Look, er... just a minute.

Would you mind?

Look, I'd just as soon skip lunch.

Hendrickson?
Let's go over what we know.

Nice piece.

Mind you, you've got to be careful
with this Persian stuff.

Still, I'd give you ten quid for it.

Twelve? Fifteen?

Well, that's it,
get your head under the sheets, snuggle down.

Whatever you're doing,
wherever you may be.

This is Pete Murray wishing
you all a very good night.

Sweet dreams.

- Are you with us?
- You tell me.

- How are you feeling?
- Terrible.

D'you know who I am?

I don't know anything. I don't know
anything about anybody any more.

I just assume somebody slipped
LSD in me Bovril and I'm on a trip.

A London number, please.
Grosvenor 2124.

This is 496.
Thank you.

- I'm Johnston.
- Oh, really?

Do you work for, er... ICS?

On and off, I'm their assassin.

Proudfoot? It's me.

Look, I've just got back here
but there's no package.

No, no. Drove straight off as arranged
and when I got here - nothing.

Well, he must have escaped.

Well, it's not my fault, is it?
You'd better ask your boys.

Yeah? All right,
keep in touch, keep in touch.

Right, goodbye,

- Coffee?
- Er... thank you.

Did you kill Lambert?

Pardon?

Er... did you kill Lambert?

Yes. Yes, I did.

- Do you take sugar?
- Two.

Right.
Yes, yes, I did Lambert.

You were snoring on the sofa,
pissed as a newt,

so I brought you out here
for a day in the country.

- Yes, but why?
- Well, it all helps to confuse the law.

Anyway, no one realised then
you were "in it" with Lambert.

Look, I keep telling
everybody I'm not!

Come off it, son.

It fell out of your
pocket last Sunday.

It wasn't until last night
that I realised what it was.

Otherwise I'd have hung on
to you in the first place.

It's 18th-century English.

For tobacco. Not rare, but rare enough.
About ten quid.

And what are you asking, Lambert?

Ten thousand.

Ah. Soda?

No, thank you.

Otherwise you go to Hadrian?

Obviously.

I don't suppose I've got much choice.

You haven't.

Ten quid?

It's worth ten thousand.
I can use that.

That's why you've escaped.

Now, who is he?

Yes, I know him.

Mmm, I thought you might.

Not because of what you think.

I've only known him since Monday.
His name's Hendrickson.

- Hendrickson?
- And the only reason I had that shoe

is because I whipped it.

Normally go round
pinching things, do you?

Yes, as a matter of fact I do.

It's just as well you do know him.
That's the reason you're alive.

Bet it's Japanese.

Come on, I've got some checking up
to do on our mutual friend.

Meanwhile you can earn your keep.
Friday night is blackmail night.

You're back, are you?
I finished this lot ages ago.

I've been practising meditation
the last couple of hours.

Oh, yes? Do any good?

No, my mind's too clogged up
with sex and football.

Come on then.
You've got a phone call to make.

Well, do you mind?

Just one drink.

Yes, just one drink.
Rémy, and very little.

Not bad, is it?
It's handy when I'm working late

or when Clare and I
are having one of our "do's".

How is your wife?

Oh, she's still the same sweet
gin-sodden bitch that she always was.

- Are you staying here tonight?
- Yes. Are you?

- No.
- Pity. One day.

This is Sir Alec Hadrian's secretary.

Could you please call his office
at nine-thirty tomorrow?

Never stops.

This is Gerald
Arthur Otley, alive and kicking.

Now you'd betterjot this down...

Are you still in touch
with that funny Otley?

Yes. I'm rather afraid the poor fellow
has gone off his head.

You'll be giving all this up, will you,
when you get the money?

I'll give ICS up,
but not the coach business.

We're doing very well.

D'you know, we're offering fourteen days
in the Dolomites for thirty-six guineas?

Well, I hope one day I'll
be able to take advantage of it.

Don't bank on it.

I was a commando in the war.
Commissioned in the field, I was.

Me, an officer!

Then, a few years back, the Congo.
Tshombé's Commando 5.

Then ICS?

Well, it's a thousand quid a job.
Can't be bad.

But they're a news agency.

They also run a market
for information. Classified.

Listen, from what I've seen, ICS and Hendrickson
are on opposite sides of the fence.

Now ICS killed Lambert,

but Lambert was putting the screw
on Hendrickson. I mean, you know...

That's no concern of ours, lad.
The whole world's bent.

I heard you a mile away.

Yes, but there was no need
to use the hosepipe!

You said "I'm going to teach you
unarmed combat"

and you go and use the hosepipe
right in the bloody eye!

Always expect the unexpected.

People you go creeping up on
don't go carrying hosepipes.

I'm sick of this game.

All the games are over now.
Tonight's the night.

You look very cocky about it.

Aren't you worried you'll end up
the same as Lambert?

Oh, I'll be all right.
It's you I'm worried about, son.

Oh, I see, I'll be the one
who's dropped in the...

Again.

Now, listen. Just get it off him
then wait at the bottom for me.

He's on the last tube and there's no
other exit down there, so be sensible.

Anyhow, win, lose or draw, remember I'm the
best mate you've got in this business.

- Makes me warm inside.
- Mind the step.

Last train to Ealing Broadway!

On your way.

There, that didn't hurt, did it?

Here's your bloody case.

Just a minute, son.

Now, you just take that case
down the platform a minute.

What for?

Come on.

That's far enough.

Now open it.

Now, hang on.

Do you mean this might be...

You're joking!

Come on.

- Well, what chance have I got?
- Fifty-fifty.

If you don't open it, none at all.

You're a bastard.

Good. Now the lid.

A rich bastard!

Oh, I see. It's my turn now.

Well, you had a week's grace,
didn't you?

Hell, Johnston, I wouldn't
tell anybody, honest.

I just want to get back
to me own scene.

No, no. You can see it
from my point of view.

Officer?

- What's in this, then?
- Well, it's snuff, isn't it?

Yeah, he gets migraine bad.

- Excuse me.
- Just a minute.

Yes, but...

My doctor prescribed them,

I'm suffering from nervous exhaustion.

- Look, it may interest you to know...
- A minute!

I'm Gerald Arthur Otley,
and I've had enough.

Here's your newspapers
and your toothbrush, sir.

They didn't have those French
cigarettes, but will these do?

- Oh, fine.
- Have you finished with this, sir?

Er... yes. Listen a minute, shouldn't I be
making a statement or something?

I don't know anything about that, sir.

Er... constable?

- The door.
- Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

Is there a draught?

Where were you on the
night of the fourteenth?

Ah!

Sorry to have kept you, Mr Otley.

I was just, er...

Oh, I see you've been diverting all
westbound traffic down Lexham Mews.

Yes, I knew a girl there once
who used to... who used to...

Fine...

Fine.

Good day for the match.

The match?

Chelsea. Playing at home.

Oh yes, yes.
I wish I could be there.

I don't suppose you people
get much opportunity, eh?

Look, Superintendent,

what exactly is going
to happen to me?

Yes, I'm sorry about this, but I think
the delay's been from your people.

Has it?

Excuse me.

Yes? Oh, fine.

Well, I don't think you need hang
around here much longer, Mr Otley.

- They're here.
- My people?

Your people.

Good morning.

What do you want?

What's she doing here?

- I've come to pick you up, sir.
- "I've come to pick you up, sir."

And you're going to let her?

Listen, I've had enough of your lot.
I'm wanted for questioning.

With a bit of luck
I might get fifteen years.

Could I go back to
my cell now, please?

Is everything all right, miss?

He's been under
a certain amount of strain.

Strain? Last night her boss nearly
blew me halfway to the Dolomites!

Well, I expect he had
his reasons, sir.

Listen, I like it here, they're nice people.
I had a marvellous breakfast.

- We are nice people.
- Yeah, but who's we? Who's we?

Well, put it this way: we are the cowboys,
as opposed to being the Indians.

Well, in that case
I'd hate to meet the Indians.

- You already have!
- Have I?

Well, how do you tell,
how do you judge?

- Sir! Sir!
- What?

Oh, cheers. Thank you.

As a late friend of mine once said,
the whole world's bent.

What about Hendrickson then?
What side's he on?

- That's a very good question.
- Is it? Well, I want an answer.

All right. He disappeared last night,

leaving his lovely gin-sodden wife,
two children and a Dalmatian dog.

Now, don't be a drag and get in.

Hello, Gerry,

Miles is head of MI5, isn't he?
That's what M stands for.

Will you do as you're told?

It's very complex, Gerry,
but for your peace of mind,

A, we are the Government.

Oh, well, er... at least we have
the Government's blessing.

And B, ICS are the enemy.

And, um, C, Hendrickson,
formerly with A, is now with B.

Oh, I see.

But Hendrickson used to be your boss,
before he became a peppermill.

Sorry, Rollo.

To put it simply, Gerry,
we're a red herring outfit.

We feed misleading information
to, um, oh, erm...

well, to whoever we wish to mislead.

Consequently, ICS are
very convenient middle men.

That's why we've not shut them down.

We slip them a mixture of
some fairly innocuous real stuff,

and some, erm, absolute rubbish.

At some point Hendrickson went
freelance and made a deal with them.

Then Lambert found out,
but, instead of telling us,

tried to put the screw on Hendrickson.

Who got on to ICS and said
"Solve my problem".

Ah, enter Johnston!
Then he goes freelance.

God, you're a charmless lot!
How do you trust each other?

We don't.
Have you finished with these?

While we're on the subject
of deception, Rollo,

was it you who told ICS
that I was on Albert's houseboat?

What? Oh, no, no, of course not, Gerry.
That would be Hendrickson.

I had orders to phone him
should you get in touch with me.

Oh, I see.

Well, no offence.

Glad that's settled.

I'll be off now.
Things to do.

Erm... there is just one thing, Gerry.

There is something
you could still do for us.

- Oh no.
- It would be a big help.

Look, love, I've just had
the worst week of me life.

Anyhow, A, I don't want to push me luck,
B, your whole scene's sick,

and C, though I'd like to
save the world for democracy,

I've got something on this afternoon.
God Save the Queen.

- Mr Otley?
- That's me.

Would you come this way, please?

Would you be s...

Would you be so good as to read out
the number on the black Ford Zephyr

parked adjacent
to the tree over there?

Yes, of course. Five...

You can distinguish the number, Mr Otley?

Yes, 536 XKE.

Thank you. Which is the vehicle
you're using for the driving test?

Over there.

Right, Mr Otley,
should we start the car, then?

Don't start off,
just start the motor.

Mr Otley, you do know
where the starter is?

Oh, yes. Sorry.

Should we proceed up the road,

taking the second turning on the right,
and then follow my instructions.

Pedestrians!

We must have consideration
for other road users, Mr Otley.

Would you reverse around this corner?

What are you doing, Mr Otley?

Erm... just checking the hubcaps.

Would you turn left now, please?

I said left, Mr Otley.

This exercise is designed
to test your aptitude

in starting off
from a stationary position

while the car is on an upward incline.

Now, if you would just
move off for me.

Once again.

If you could just return to the
Municipal buildings.

I've had just about
enough of this lot!

There's no need to take it personally.

It's this clutch.
I told them about it weeks ago.

Hey!

Why can't the bastards leave me alone?

We all have our jobs to do, Mr Otley.

I'm afraid, Mr Otley, your driving

has not reached the standard
required by the Ministry.

Now, if we could just...

What about that
for an emergency stop, then?

And here's the three point turn,

You failed, Mr Otley.
I'm trying to tell you, you failed.

All right, Mr Otley, you've passed.

Look, look, I'm filling in
the pass form now.

- What kept you?
- We came the long way round.

What is it now?

Our big white chief wanted
to see you. That was all.

Well, you'd think
he could afford a lift.

I am responsible for this section.

I have to answer to
the people above, Cabinet members,

who are none too keen on
allowing an illegal organisation

such as ICS to function with the apparent
blessing of Her Majesty's Government.

And now, with
this Hendrickson business,

well, the situation is very delicate.

We need him back, and quickly.

I'm sure you do. Big hang-up.

You'll have to sign this.
It's all Official Secrets Act nonsense.

Don't bother to read it.
It won't mean a thing to you.

Why do I have to sign that?
I thought I'd just be off now.

I told you everything that happened.

You are in a very
unique position, Mr, erm...

...Otley.

You're an unknown quantity to them,

who's emerged from
one or two nasty situations

with what could be mistaken for
a great degree of professionalism.

They know you're not with us,

but you could possibly be with
another intelligence agency.

There are a number who would like
to have the link we have with ICS.

Especially our American friends.

You see, ICS will know
where Hendrickson is,

and we think that Proudfoot
might well come to, er...

an arrangement with you.

Now, hang on!

I know this is my chance to make up
for getting out of National Service

with a perforated eardrum,

but I'm making a point-blank categorical
refusal to be involved any further.

We will of course compensate you well.

We could hardly expect you
to help us without a fair reward.

Look, Mr Ha...
I mean, Sir Alec,

don't just assume
that I can be bought.

It still needs a very great deal...
How fair would this reward be?

I thought for a moment
that was Gerry Otley.

Oh, hello, Lin, Albert.

Granny's postal order arrived, did it?

Look, can't stop.
Like the harp, though.

Yeah, he's just bought it,
the idiot.

You shouldn't talk to me.
It could be dangerous.

- He's coming on a bit strong.
- Oh, shut up.

You've never been
dangerous to be with.

Good morning. Welcome to
the Playboy Club, I'm Bunny Anne.

- Yes, Mr Proudfoot's table, please.
- Oh, you must be Mr Motley.

Otley. Bunny Otley.

What's this, The Naked Lunch?

I thought you'd like it.
The flesh, I mean.

Well, I'm not sure I fancy a great bare
bosom dangling in my Vichyssoise.

- You've changed your image.
- Well, my cover's broken now.

At least I don't have to go around
as that scruffy layabout, um, er... Otley.

I won't embarrass you
by asking who you do work for.

I know how sensitive about
these things you CIA people are.

You mustn't jump to conclusions.

It's really of no consequence.

What do you want Hendrickson for?

Well, it's obvious, isn't it?

For what he knows of
British Intelligence, what he can tell us.

Incredible. If it had been a Chinaman
or a Czech I'd had hidden away

you wouldn't have cared less.
But because he's British...

And to think that the public assume
that the Western security networks

collaborate.

Well, they're very naïve.

I know a good man for that.

- I'd like to ask you a question.
- Yes?

What would you do if I said no?

We'd close you down.
My people, that is.

In that case,

we're in business.

Good.
Now I'd like to ask you a question.

Yes?

What does
"Saltimbocca alla Romana" mean?

Here you are.
Anything else, Sir?

No, thanks.
Oh, yes, yes.

Er, would you clean
those trousers for me?

Those ones, yes.

Yes, you'll need something
for getting Saltimbocca alla Romana out.

Of course, sir.

Oh, and don't forget about the television,
will you, eh? Colour, remember.

Colour, sir.

Can I do your room, sir?

Give us a chance.
I haven't started me porridge yet.

I don't know how you eat that stuff.

It's you! Not before time!
Two days I've sat up here.

Proudfoot rang last night.

He wants me to go to some
health farm until he contacts me.

Good.

Is it? All right, I might have fooled him
over some expense account nosh-up,

but it can't go on for ever.
I haven't had the training.

I thought at least you'd give me
a crash course in karate

and a Smith and Wesson
under me armpit.

- Well, you've got this instead.
- No, thanks. I had one for Christmas.

- It's a micro-radio transmitter.
- What's that for?

So we know where you are.

We can pick up its bleep
within a fifty-mile radius.

You switch it on like this.

That's all I am to you lot.
A bleep.

While we're on the subject,
Hadrian would like his lighter back.

What lighter?

The one you stole from his office.

I took it in lieu of danger money.

I gather it's just me
going down to that health farm.

I'll write every day.

It's all right for you, Superwoman.

I'm just a normal healthy girl.

Ah, yes. I suppose you share a flat
in Chelsea with a student nurse,

and a nice young man,
works for Lufthansa,

comes over every Friday night
for his hot chocolate.

One thing. How come you're backing
Britain with an accent like that?

I came here as an au pair girl
to a Cabinet Minister,

and he made a pass,
so they switched me to Intelligence.

Now eat your porridge
before it gets cold.

- Perhaps Imogen should be at the health farm too.
- No cover.

I would suggest, sir,
I mean in Otley's case,

- that we keep pretty close to him.
- No cover.

If ICS see us around, it blows
the top off the whole thing.

Off Otley too, come to that.

Brief him by phone and tell him
to do what Proudfoot asks.

You know, dear, I always thought
that colonic irrigation

was something to do with agriculture.

Hmm, yes, of course.

And then he came towards me
with that dreadful thing...

I mean, what I mean is, it's
uncomfortable carrying this around.

This is twice the weight
of my golf clubs.

Trouble is, you're going to
put it back on again.

I mean, it stands to reason.

If you take it off quick,
you put it back on quick.

I don't know what a young man
like you is doing here.

You've got no weight problems.

What do you mean?

I weighed seventeen stone
last Thursday.

Well, gentlemen, stick it out!

You want a massage, Mr Otley?

No, I do not. I had enough
of that bloody nonsense yesterday.

Been working up an appetite?

There's fruit and yoghurt
for you today.

Oh, it's you, Rodney!

Well, of course I was upset.
It was very embarrassing,

in front of all those people.

I mean, violence is all very well
in Grosvenor Square,

but throwing a plateful of spaghetti
and scampi in someone's face at a party

is a little too militant.

Of course I know she's your wife!

I've got feelings too!

- Mr Otley?
- Yes.

Well, is she going to be there?

Well, I don't know, Rodney.

Yes, but...

You said she didn't care.
She certainly seems to.

Well, I do have a sense of humour,
but how would you like it, Rodney,

if someone called you a "middle-class tart"
in front of your mother?

Oh, lovely!

Mmm!

That's good.

God, it's you.

What did you do that for?
I thought it was the dietitian.

Have a chip.

- Enjoying yourself?
- I'm having the time of me life.

I've had four days
of fruit and yoghurt,

and every day I get pummelled to death
by some sadistic Nipponese.

And that janitor
charged me a quid for these.

He must be making a packet.

You are looking better for it.

What are you doing here, anyway?
I thought I was on me own.

I talked it over with Rollo.

We thought it was too risky
leaving you without a contact.

Well, they told me "no cover at all".

- Does Hadrian know you're here?
- No.

Oh, I see.

Well, I'm very flattered at your concern.
Where are you staying?

Here.

I suppose the department has
an official classification for this?

Yes, sex.

Yes, well, this could mark a
significant change in our relationship.

Yes, perhaps it will.
You don't mind?

No, I'm delighted.

It's just that, er... these sauna baths
do rather take it out of you.

Get out and get dressed.

You'll have to try to
explain me away to the chambermaids.

- What?
- The room maids.

You'll have to explain me away.

You'll have to do that, my love.

Gerry? Gerry, what
the hell are you doing?

I'm off to meet

your old mate, Hendrickson.

Have they contacted you?

Gerry, for God's sake, let me out!

Listen, my little flower, Hadrian was adamant
about no cover and then you turn up.

Within the last two weeks I've acquired
a professional mistrust of everyone.

If I'm wrong,
I'll take you out to dinner.

Gerry!

Let's hope you're bleeping
loud and clear.

Gerry, listen to me!

I've passed this way before,
haven't I?

So, you were with Johnston.

Whatever happened to him?

We have our methods.

How are you going
to get him out, Gerry?

I told you. We have our methods.

Huh!

Least I bloody well hope so.

Come on now, I've done me bit.

I only hope the US cavalry's
lurking in that turnip field.

Stupid.

Hendrickson?

Hendrickson!

It's me, Otley.

Yes, I can see that.

Listen, there's no one with me.
I'm on my own, you know.

I mean, I'm not
armed or anything,

I am.

Look, it's not what you think.

I'm here independently.

My people would like
to do a deal with you.

Proudfoot told me all that.

- Oh, did he?
- Do you know what I said?

"Send the little bastard to me.
Alone.

"And let him convince me."

Well, that's what I've
come here to do, Hendrickson.

The thing is, my people...

Who are your people, Otley?

Are they Hadrian? Rollo?
And the lovely Imogen?

Of course, I'm not prepared to say
who my people are yet.

But surely you don't think I can have come
this far without some sort of backing, do you?

I'll tell you one thing, Otley.

This is as far as you are coming.

Now, look here, Hendrickson,

you can't frighten me!

Your people!
You've been a catspaw, little man.

A sheep in sheep's clothing,
and a bloody nuisance!

All right, Otley, let's have you!

My back!

I'm sorry.

I didn't know it was in reverse.

I was only trying to...

Hang on.

No!

I thought you wanted
Hendrickson back.

I thought you wanted an
inter-departmental scapegoat,

not a bloody corpse.

Under the circumstances
I preferred the corpse.

And, not being a
complete idiot, Mr Otley,

no doubt you can work out
just what those circumstances are.

I must thank you for
a good job well done.

Very professional.

I'm learning.

And what have you learned today?

Well, if you wanted to
shut Hendrickson up that badly,

you must have a hell of a lot
to hide yourself.

- I do,
- ICS?

All mine.

So the head cowboy
turns out to be the chief Indian,

Well, you could put it that way.

You took a bit of a risk,
didn't you, using me?

But you did very well.
Proudfoot was the main hurdle,

but you convinced him.

Yes, I did, didn't I?
You want to sack him.

Proudfoot's case is pending.

What about me?
I suppose I'm for the chop now.

No, no, no, no, I don't think so.

You can't harm me, and your death
might be rather hard to explain.

No, as it is,
you fit in rather nicely.

It will simply seem as if you got
the better of Mr Hendrickson.

Oh, and don't worry.

There won't be any
sort of repercussions.

After all, you are technically
one of our operators.

Of course, officially
we would have liked him alive,

but then we'll put that down
to your inexperience.

Like a lift?

Right, listen, and don't you sulk just
because I locked you in the lavatory.

All right, it might have misfired,
but anyhow I did it for the right reasons.

The fact remains that Hadrian,

hours before a grateful nation
is due to give him a knighthood,

has been exposed
by Gerald Arthur Otley.

This... are you ready?
This is a tape recording

of my conversation with
"Sir" Alec Hadrian this afternoon.

Notice the way I cleverly engineer
the conversation to incriminate him.

Just winding it back,

...morning, Raymond. Yes, the answer is
"American-style smoked haddock."

you want one pound...

I forgot to press 'record'.

To receive the honour of knighthood,

Sir Alec Hadrian.

Just for the record,
we do believe you.

Well, who's worried?

The fate of the nation's
no concern of us "little people".

You'll probably see he's been retired
with a thrombosis in six months.

They'll never believe this
in the pub, you know.

So that's it, is it?

I mean, I won't be called upon to smash
some Chinese opium gang on Monday, will I?

Not you, Gerry.
They've already closed your file.

Great!

So now I'm back to reality.
Dull, grey and lovely.

Hey, I owe you a dinner.

I mean, I can see you again, can't I?

Don't be silly, love.

What have you been up to, then?

Oh, nothing much.
I just got back to square one.

Well, at least you've got
a roof over your head now.

- No, I haven't.
- Yes, you have.

Albert's gone up North for two weeks.

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