All language subtitles for The Avengers s04e04 Death at Bargain Prices

May I help you, sir?

Yes, may I see some hats, please?
Headwear?

Certainly, sir.

Mr. Massey?

Ah, Mr. Massey will escort you.

Headwear, Mr. Massey? Yes, sir.

And, Mr. Massey, your carnation is
crooked.

Kindly adjust it. Yes, sir. I'm sorry,
sir.

This way, sir.

Ah,

deed. What a pleasant surprise meeting
you here, my dear. I think I'll just

browse around the stock, if you don't
mind. Certainly, sir. What do you mean,

pleasant surprise? There I was, deep in
thermodynamics. I think a curly brim,

don't you? You'll be wearing a curly
brim for a collar unless you tell me

exactly... One of our best agents was
murdered yesterday. His name was Moran.

was shot six times in Dunton and Alley.

Ostentatious. Eh?

Six times. Oh, yes.

He was on to something big, but
unfortunately we don't know what.

Ah, I think this cut's rather a dash,
don't you? If he was dumped in an alley,

what are we doing here? We've only got
one lead. This was found in his pocket.

It's a receipt from Pinter.

It's an ordinary store receipt.

Have a look at the date.

And yesterday was Sunday.

Store was closed.

Did you find anything to suit you, sir?
Thank you. I'll take twelve of these on

account. Certainly, sir. Oh, and I've
got to collect something for a friend of

mine. What department was it, ma 'am?

Nineteen. Through the next department on
the right, ma 'am. Thank you.

May help us to find out what Moran was
buying.

Did he have any children?

Not so far as I know.

May I help you?

Oh, yes. Is this department 19?

That is correct.

Then it's the right place.

Yes, of course, of course.

This must be a very happy time for both
of us. Oh, it's not exactly that. Well,

I wonder if you're buying a cot if I
might recommend this one, sir.

Baby will be very happy in it.

I think baby's too big.

Come along, my dear.

Excuse us.

Now, what would he have wanted with a
pram?

Perhaps his nanny had a license
endorsed.

For reckless pushing.

That's funny.

What?

It isn't Old Bates at all. It's Royal
Crichton. That's quite an easy mistake.

Not to anyone with half an idea about
China.

Old Bates and Royal Crichton are as
different as chalk from cheese.

Someone in this store doesn't know his
job.

Perhaps.

Perhaps I need an assistant.

Mrs. Peel?

Yes?

Jarvis.

Hastic.

Detective.

Settling in okay?

Yes, thank you. That's the ticket.

Ever worked in a store before?

No. Well, watch out for those with big
shopping bags, the open type.

Especially if they put it on a counter.

Get half the store in a bag like that
and never see it go.

Oh, what checks? Don't accept any big
ones without I say so, got it?

I think so.

You too.

Oh, um... Don't worry about not knowing
the ropes.

None of them here do.

May I have some service, please?

Charming.

I asked the chief predator where to find
you, and he said, Our Mrs. Peel is in

ladies' underwear.

I rattled up the stairs three at a time.
Mary Quip's department on the fifth

floor, sir.

Our Mrs. Peel? Our?

I've only been working here half a day,
already unfolded to the communal bosom.

Find anything?

Yes.

None of the staff here have the faintest
idea about running a store.

Whatever they are, they're certainly not
salesmen.

Fat? Instinct.

Interesting. What have you been doing?

Pinters were taken over a year or so
ago, lock, stock and barrel, the whole

chain of stores, by Horatio Cain.

King Cain? One of the original fathers
of industry.

So that's what they meant.

I heard some of the staff talking about
the king upstairs.

He's here?

Mm -hmm, living at the top of a
building.

A disused department's been converted
for him. Really? Where is it? The

Department of Discontinued Lines.

You should fit in rather well.

It's a matter of opinion.

To the top of the building, sir. Up the
stairs and beyond the executive staff

restaurant. Extremely simple, I'll be
modern. Thank you.

To Wentworth.

Cloudingale here, sir.

I fear there may be an intruder
somewhere on the top floor.

Yes, sir. I understand.

Wentworth?

Wentworth?

Who are you?

My name is Steve, sir. John Steed.

I don't know you.

No, sir. My company told me to look for
some business. We're efficiency experts.

We step in and try to ginger up any
business that may be failing.

Know what you want, go out and get it.
That's the way fortunes are made. The

to power.

You think my business is failing?

Well, frankly, sir, I wasn't very
impressed before I saw downstairs.

Oh, weren't you now? Weren't you?

Your staff seemed to be a little
inexperienced, which in my book is

inefficiency. But don't you worry. My
company will put it right if we just

your cooperation, access to your
records, and... The Department of

Lines. That's what they call this place.

Discontinued Lines.

Relics of a bygone age, Dean.

Yes, sir.

A glorious age.

Creatures, leisurely, ordered.

A time for many things.

A machine was a thing of joy then.

Built the last man's lifetime.

Now it's out of date before it's left
the assembly line.

Brush, tear, grab and grub. That's life
today.

Out of date.

That's what they say about me, you know.

They say that this is where I belong.

A discontinued line.

The old man run down at last.

Yes, run down. They say that I live only
for the good old days. Try to recapture

them. Well, that's partly true, but it's
only half of it.

A man can possess a Michelangelo, can't
he, Steed, and still appreciate a

Picasso.

I can't compete anymore, that's what
they say.

Haven't got the grasp of modern
technique.

Haven't got the grasp.

Well, I'll surprise them yet.

I'll show them that Horatio Cain can
still... Yes, sir?

How can you show them?

Efficiency expert, eh?

Yes, sir.

But you were just about to... I'm
talking to the wrong man.

I'm just a sick old man.

Foolish sick old man.

Robert Wentworth governs the policy of
this store. You'd have to impress him

with your ideas.

That's correct.

I'm sorry about the disturbance, sir.

This man had no right to come up here.

He says his name's Steed.

Thinks he can improve our business.
Well, perhaps he can.

After all, he did get up here to see me.

This way, please.

I enjoyed our little chat.

Very enjoyable.

You should have used the proper
channels, Mr. Seed.

Written to us.

Made an appointment.

You would have turned me down.

Perhaps.

You see, we have to be very careful whom
we allow in to see, Mr. Kane.

He's a frail man these days.

Deceptible.

For many dubious characters, try to talk
him into putting up money for even more

dubious schemes. We have to protect him.

Excuse me.

It's not always easy.

Old age can sometimes be querulous.

On the whole, we do a very good job, but
once in a while, someone finds a chink

in our armour.

I imagine you use the emergency stairs.

Yes.

We'll post a man there in future.

Well, goodbye, Mr. Steed.

Really,

Jarvis, what this store is coming to, I
do not know.

What's up now? Another staff meeting
tonight, and again, I'm not invited.

Really, I told Mr Wentworth.

Another one tonight, eh?

The third this week.

Same as before, senior staff only. A
selected few.

After all, I am chief window dresser
here, and one might think... Never mind,

everything's changing around here since
the takeover. It might be just growing

pain. Well, I hope you're right.

Is that usual?

Three staff meetings in one week?

Sometimes more than that. Sometimes
every night of the week.

Even Sundays?

Mr Wentworth really believes in working
his staff hard round here, doesn't he?

Where do they hold their meetings? In
the store?

That's right. And I should get that idea
right out of your head.

Staying on to find out what happens.

Now, why should I want to stay on? Be
pretty careful about that. They check

store from top to bottom.

I've seen you today, listening in to
every conversation, watching every

move.

You didn't come here just to sell
ladies' nighties, Mrs Peel.

Look, I'm with you.

There is something odd going on round
here.

Well, I could help you.

Nothing much escapes old Jarvis.

Besides, I've got a passkey.

Ministry of Labour.

Not satisfied with the way things are
being run round here. Need to know more.

You can reach me.

Here.

Keep my eyes open, let you know.

Good night, Mrs Peel.

Good night, Mr Farthingale.

Just how you feel. Come on, open up.

Go away, I'm not at home.

Mrs. Peel, you can't possibly send me
away.

I'm contagious.

I've got beriberi, myxomatosis and hard
pap.

But I'm grievously wounded.

Come in.

Five o 'clock. Oh.

Whatever happened to you?

Department of discontinued lines.
Wentworth threw me out.

I've got just what you need.

I'm thinking of lodging a complaint
against the management.

Proves one thing, though. They must have
something to hide.

Jarvis thinks so, too.

House detective.

He's agreed to help.

Cheers. I expected a larger glass.

No.

Really, see, the fuss you make over a
tiny bruise. Tiny?

What on earth's that?

It's an exploded molecular construction.

So that's what hit me.

Oh, I feel as though I was sprouting two
heads.

Have you room for expansion?

You're supposed to be a ministering
angel.

Here am I, grievously hurt.

Bruised. My pride was hurt.

Come now.

Surely you've been thrown out of places
before.

Only the best places.

You will survive.

Would you like a drink?

Intravenously.

Well, you didn't waste your time today.
You made an ally.

Jarvis. You think you can trust him?

I don't know.

Ah, the corpuscles are beginning to
function normally.

Good. Then perhaps you can function
normally and get back to work. I have a

paper to prepare on thermodynamics.

A conflict of science and humanity.

Equations, isotherms.

I have a dynamic too, you know.

Very colourful.

Red -blooded. Good night, Steve. You've
had a strenuous day.

Oh!

You're quite right.

I broke into Wentworth's apartment
earlier today, found this. Makes very

interesting reading.

Well, gentlemen, our campaign is nearing
its conclusion.

The long, hard road...

Sometimes a dangerous one, but the end
is in sight.

Our main strike area is set up. All that
remains now is to trigger off the final

action.

When will that be, Major?

Yes, when is D -Day?

Well, that depends on the Professor, of
course.

And on your security arrangements.

Marco, are they all fixed up?

Well, how are you, Professor?

Fit and ready for another night's work?

We're all getting anxious. We'd like to
know when the job will be completed.

Oh, come, come now. Surely... Surely
you're not going to be stubborn again,

I thought we'd cured you of that.

I'm doing my best.

Working as fast as I can.

What else to expect when I'm cooped up
here all the time?

You'll have to work faster, Professor.

Then you won't be cooped up here any
longer.

Will you?

Go get your wires crossed.

Hello?

Yes, who's speaking?

It's Jarvis.

Jarvis.

I told you I'd keep my eyes peeled,
didn't I?

I found something might interest you.

Ground floor camping display.

I left the side door unlocked.

Make it snappy.

So you left the body there.

I had to.

Couldn't raise the alarm without
explaining what I was doing there.

This morning?

Not a sign of it.

Probably dumped in an alleyway by now.

This is for you.

Excuse me.

Quite simple, sir. All you have to do is
pull a few strings.

Just like the civil service.

Quick promotion.

From lingerie to space age woman in one
big jump.

It's all policy. Move you around.

So even with one man dead, business as
usual.

Not quite.

Mr. Glynn was dismissed this morning.

Chief Window Drizzler.

Where is he now?

You might find him just through there.

Mr. Glynn?

Yes? I'm John Steed.

I'm a shareholder in Pintos, and I've
been hearing some very disturbing rumors

about the way the store's being run.

Rumors?

Not rumors, Mr. Teed. This store has
gone to pot.

Look at me.

After six years of faithful service...
Why were you sacked, Mr. Glenn?

Your guess is as good as mine.

All I did was to tell Mr. Wentworth
about my ground floor display.

Ground floor display? What about it?
Someone keeps changing it. Last night.

And the night before, I set out a
display on the ground floor, and then

morning, it's all changed.

Strange things happening here, Mr. Teed.

Six years of faithful service and I
won't be the last to go either. Julie

be next.

Julie? Julie Thompson in the food
market. She'll be the next. You'll see

isn't. And it isn't her fault about the
food. Eh?

The food that disappears during the
night.

Good morning.

Good morning, sir.

Cheese. Yes, sir.

Stilton. Port fed, its feet firmly
manacled.

Firmly manacled?

You want a very ripe one, sir. Leaping
about.

I'll see if I can catch one for you.

Splendid. I take half an ounce.

Will that be all, sir?

Goodness me, no. This is as long as my
arm.

One tomato, two egg whites, handful of
chives, half an onion, a squeeze of

lemon. It's a recipe.

So I gathered.

Do you want it wrapped?

Except for the squeeze of lemon.

Pour in a pint and a half of burgundy,
add three pounds of best steak, and

to marinate.

Hmm, sounds marvellous.

More than enough for two.

We could leave out the half an onion.

Is that a proposition?

More of a fly suggestion.

Where does the food disappear to?

I've been speaking to Mr Glynn. Where do
you think the food disappears to?

I've really no idea.

But it does disappear.

Oh, come now, I'm trying to help.

I really haven't any idea.

All I know is that for the past few
weeks, food has been disappearing.

During the night?

Seems the only possible explanation.

Any particular kind of food?

Cans of fruit, bread, some ripe silt,
and some bumblebees.

Honeyed bumblebees. We import them from
Japan.

And all this stuff disappears every
night?

Just lately.

It's funny how I come to think of it.
Eh?

The honeyed bumblebees.

Why someone should steal them?

I mean, we hardly ever sell any in the
store.

As a matter of fact, we only stop them
because a customer pays a special order.

What customer?

Mr. Popple.

Well, Professor Popple, really. You
know, the one who disappeared a few

ago.

What?

I've got nine and a half minutes to
finish my lunch and get back to the

I brought you a bottle of wine to go
with your lunch. Lovely.

Specially imported for Pintus.

Do you know Professor Popple?

Popple? Hmm.

Physicist. Expert on nuclear fission.

Atom splitter.

Did he disappear a few weeks ago?

That's right.

He was addicted to bumblebees.

Honeyed bumblebees.

Pintos keep a special stocking for him.
Eight minutes, 45 seconds. Pintos and

Popper, do you suppose there's any
connection?

Moran was the catalyst.

He was found dead with a receipt from
Pintos in his pocket. It was dated on

Sunday. So he must have broken in.

It's worth seeing if it has any special
significance.

I should use it when I get the
opportunity.

Oh, eight minutes.

Go on with the jigsaw.

Okay.

Discontinued. Senile.

Perhaps. Wentworth?

Pinted strong -arm salesman.

I shall take great pleasure in closing
my account there. Seven minutes, Baldy.

Go on.

Jarvis, Flynn, Julie Thompson, Professor
Popple, Bumblebee.

All right. Time's up. Have a go.

Bumblebee.

Bumblebee.

Now, who would want to feel some honey?

Bumblebees. Pilfering, Matty.

You know I don't stand for pilfering.
No, sir.

It's just for the professor, sir.

He's not a bad sort of chap, sir, and
he's not too happy with the grub we're

feeding him, so... Well, I thought...
You thought you could disobey my order.

Where's Marco?

Marco, sir? Yes, Marco. He's in charge
of the commissariat. Where the devil is

he?

Downstairs, I think, sir.

Trying his luck with a new girl.

Tony Markle. I'm the chief accountant
here.

Would you mind checking your documents?
Make sure I have all the details for

this.

That's great.

I noticed one important omission. Your
telephone number.

I think you have all the necessary
details.

We ought to keep all our goods on the
top shelf.

Have you nothing better to do, Mr.
Markle? I'm open to suggestions. Can you

think of a better way of passing the
time?

As a matter of fact, I can.

This receipt doesn't seem to belong to
our department. I wonder if you'd mind

checking it for me.

For you?

Anything.

Where did you get this?

I found it.

Why, what's wrong?

Nothing at all. You did right to show it
to me.

Mr. Wentworth will want to talk to you
about it.

This way, Mrs. Peel.

Would you wait here for a moment?

In the old days, I'd have handled the
whole business myself. The whole

This way, it's second -hand.

I'm putting a great deal of trust in
you.

It's not Mr. Place, sir, I can assure
you. I hope not. I hope not. Excuse me,

sir.

Mark, I want to see you. Not as much as
I want to see you.

Take a look at that.

Trouble!

Nothing we can't handle, sir.

Where did this turn up?

That new girl, Mrs. Peel.

Did she say where she found it?

I thought I'd better leave that to you.
She's downstairs. I locked her in.

Can I do for you, sir?

Oh, the lady assistant who served me
earlier.

Mrs. Peel?

Yes. What about her?

Well, it's nothing really.

She said she might have a drink with me.

Mrs. Peel was dismissed for philandering
with the customers.

Mrs. Pinter, you know, sir, we don't
stand for that kind of thing here.

No. Why? I'm afraid that Mrs. Peel is no
longer with us.

Is there anything else you might
require, sir? The store is just about to

Well, uh... No, thanks.

Pardon, Gail? Sir?

Everything secure, Major?

Good. Where have you got Mrs. Peel?
Found her at the department, sir. Who's

guarding her?

Matthew.

All right.

Now go check the detonation area. Carry
on. Sir.

Good night.

Meanie, meanie, meanie.

Mo.

That's how I like my mummies. Well
preserved.

Carpet bagger.

I take it you're not hurt. Only my
pride.

Steve, there's a fully equipped
laboratory upstairs.

That fits in for a better bottle.

Oh, thanks.

Rudd. Steve.

Store receipts. Feed cards for this
computer.

High -pressure accounting.

Let's see, shall we?

Hold on to your hat.

It's a perfect cover. You can feel these
programming cards by making them look

like ordinary store receipts.

Moran must have stumbled onto it.

Well, it certainly isn't a shopping
list. I told you to hold on to your hat.

think it's the plans for a nuclear bomb.

How can you tell, Madam Curie?

Thermodynamics, Mr. Magoo. The two
sciences are correlated.

Bomb! Must stop them!

Got to stop them!

This bomb, is it your invention?

My job is finished.

Where have they got it, Professor?

Where have they hidden it?

In the door.

Down there in the... Just

stop them!

Better start somewhere.

Yeah.

Why didn't you bombs come in anyway?

There could be any ties from this to
this.

Oh, let's just look.

Size depends on what they intend.

What would Tintos want with an atom
bomb, anyway?

Perhaps they intend mushrooming out,
expanding.

You have a kind and considerate nature,
aren't you?

You search upstairs.

You press this door from top to bottom
and there's not a sign of it.

It has to be here.

What makes you so sure?

Feeling, intuition.

Have a look at that.

Toddlers' toy fair, ladies' underwear,
gentlemen's outfitting, large persons,

small persons.

We've been through the lot. It has to be
somewhere.

We found our bomb.

We're standing in it.

What have you got to lose?

Inefficient, that's what you said,
wasn't it? Inefficient.

Well, what do you think now?

My biggest takeover bid yet.

Yes.

This store is a bomb.

The entire fabric of it. The king.

Nonsense, Farthingale. It can't do any
harm now.

Besides, I'm proud of my scheme. I want
them to know.

What were you hoping to achieve?

A takeover, Mrs. Peel.

Tomorrow I'm going to take over the
entire country, hold it to ransom with

bomb.

It won't work.

They'll agree to your demands, then play
for time, locate the bomb and dismantle

it. They won't know where to look, will
they?

Only you'll know that.

Suppose they don't believe you. Suppose
they... Oh, they'll believe me.

After I've destroyed London, I told you,
didn't I, Steed?

Horatio Cain isn't finished yet.

No grasp of modern techniques.

Well, let's see what they think after
I've turned their modern techniques

against them.

A demonstration of power.

Tonight, I and my special staff will be
on our way to somewhere far from here.

Tomorrow the store will open as usual.

And then, sometime during the day, this
store and 50 miles surrounding

it will disappear completely from the
map.

That ought to convince them, don't you
think?

Sometime during the day?

Surely you can be more exact.

The bomb, this store, will explode with
the first customer who buys a

washing machine.

You tell them, Farthingale.

It's really terribly simple.

All bombs need a detonator.

And ours is embedded in the floor of the
lift shaft on the northern side.

Yes, I know that lift's been out of
order lately.

Alterations, structural repairs.

But that's all been seen to now, hasn't
it, sir? All working smoothly again now.

The customers will be able to use it as
usual tomorrow.

And washing machines are in the
basement.

Sooner or later, a customer will ask to
be taken there.

You'll step into the lift. The lift will
descend.

Down, down, down, down.

And then, vroom!

Wentworth, is that you?

Yes, sir. Over here in the corner.

You again.

Came for my teddy bear.

Can't sleep without one.

I'm tired of these two Wentworth. You
deal with them. With pleasure.

Any last request?

A ride on a tornado roadster?

Or this?

Don't let them reach the door! Go on,
after them!

After them! After them, you fool! After
them!

What's wrong? They've escaped.

Don't move.

right back up

give me the gun

back up

give

me the gun

Thank you.

Mrs. Peel, you're remarkable.

Come on, brother -in -law.

straight drive to mid -on. It's all in
the grip, you know. Really?

It's all over.

Over? They've seen the woman there.
They've beaten us.

Over?

No, Wentworth.

Not yet.

No!

The lift.

Are you sure it was all right, Dee,
taking these?

Of course, Mrs. Peel. It was a gift for
services rendered.

After all, we did save them from the
biggest closing down sale of all time.