Original subtitles

(Speaks Portuguese )

(Coughs )

- Are you sure it's a good idea? - I've been thinking about it long enough.

- Well, why didn't you tell me? - You never asked.

- Besides, you're always too busy. - Oh, come on. Not for a thing like this.

There's nothing much to tell. I'm selling my half of the business.

I only took it on to please Daddy, anyway.

- Hello, Paul. - This way, please.

- I just want something that's my own. - Well, why didn't you discuss it?

I did. There's Charlie.

- Oh, hello, Susan. Jim. - Hello, Charlie.

Erm... Hey, I say. Excuse me.

All this fancy dress, it's not a bit of good, you know. I mean, it's service that counts.

- It was your idea. - Well, we've got something to celebrate.

- Our Susan here, on the move. - Hey, I'm not going anywhere.

Yes, you are, my dear. Up.

Now, here's to ROSPER International.

What did you have to do with that, Charlie?

Well, just a discreet word

with head office in London.

Not that Susan needed it. She's got all the right contacts for running a personnel service.

They were glad to sell her the concession.

- Now, orange juice, Jim? - Yeah.

- Hey, I say, excuse me. - ..the sensational Makta Makan.

(Oriental flute and drum music)

I have never seen this girl before.

- She worked here. - She has never worked here.

- Good night, madam. - I'm sorry, I am not going.

Please, madam. You are disturbing our guests. Come.

Strictly for the punters, is this place. All fur coat and no knickers.

- Thanks a lot, Charlie. - Direct from the Far East?

She'll have been booked from Wigan Social Club, more like!

- Spanish or Portuguese? - Could be either. Fisherman or seaman.

And this pretty lady. Wife or lover?

Isabella.

- I hope the old man's in a good mood. - Thank you.

Come in.

Sorry, sir. We waited for the path report.

- Sit down, Barney. - Thank you.

Jim.

By the way, we've recovered five of the drums.

- Ah. - Bill's put a helicopter over the area.

- Jack here's got his lads on Sunday overtime. - Don't think we'll find any more, sir.

I can't take that chance. I've been informed that every drum contains enough concentrate

to pollute 8,000 cubic metres of sea water.

- That's right. - What about the press?

Well, they've sat on it for a while.

But what I won't have is panic. Bill?.

Most likely the storm two nights ago.

They could have broken loose from a freighter.

- What about your sailor, Barney? - Asphyxiation.

Some toxic industrial gas. We're not sure what yet.

- What did you say was in the drums? - Dextren-40.

A new pesticide concentrate, with a toxicity of 15 parts per million.

Maybe he was trying to retrieve it and got unlucky.

But we haven't got much on him. A picture of a girl, some cash. Not much else.

- No identification? - No. Probably Portuguese.

We've got a signet ring with an inscription.

''Amo te.'' I love you.

Well, I've been informed that this particular concentrate is banned for sale in the EEC.

So if there's a load of it on this island or passing through it, I want it.

WPC Duvane?

Dextren-40 is produced by the Segoia chemical plant in northern Spain.

They say 50 one-hundredweight drums went missing early last week.

Oh, yeah?

They've got an international reputation and contracts worth millions.

They don't need black market deals or bad publicity.

The plant's situated between San Sebastian and Bilbao.

I've prepared a list of freighters that called at either before docking here during the past week.

I have print-outs of these, with their crew muster and consignments.

''I love you'' in Portuguese, picture of a girl. How much do you blokes need?

You'll have the case cracked in no time.

- Yes, well keep in touch, will you? - It's the PRO's pigeon.

Foreign nationals, boat from God knows where, dodgy cargo.

Talking of cooperation, it might be an idea if WPC Duvane joined us.

I see. Get the Bureau out of the mire again.

On a temporary basis. It'd be good for her.

Uniform seeing the job from the other side.

She could work with Jim.

Over my dead body.

Sorry?

The Rosiana.

Erm... She called at Bilbao on the eleventh,

and San Sebastian on the twelfth.

What's she carrying?

Port wine, olive oil, engine parts.

Morning.

- Is the Master about? - Not here.

Have you got any idea where he is?

Business. Master not here.

Have you got your ship's papers handy?

What goods you've got coming in, where they're going to.

Let go on crane. On quay.

- You've got a list. - List?

We have no list. The ship's seaworthy. We have certificate.

Your ship's manifest.

- Under Section Four, Parts One and Two... - Yes, thank you.

Oi!

Now, we don't want this ship impounded, do we? So tell me, where's the Captain?

- The office. - Thank you very much.

Reading the police handbook is no good. This job is about handling people.

Watch where you're going, you git!

Nearly had you! Keep on your toes, Mr Bergerac.

Bonaparte, you lunatic!

- Are you all right? - Yeah.

Just a joke.

What are friends for if you can't have a joke?

- You haven't got any friends. - Mr Bergerac! That ain't nice.

These didn't fall off the back of a boat, did they?

It's a good job I've got a thick skin, Mr Bergerac.

- What are you doing, poking around here? - Don't tell me you don't know.

I'm looking for some hundredweight drums.

Came in earlier this week.

Chemicals.

- Nasty stuff. - There's nasty and there's nasty, Mr Bergerac.

- Where are you going? - Out.

Well, I know that, but where?

Does it matter?

- Well, what am I going to do? - Come on!

- Well, where will you be? - I don't know.

For God's sake!

You don't know who he is or anything.

Oh, come on, Jane.

How do I look?

Great.

I'll see you, OK?

Enjoy yourself.

Hobson and Young? Can I speak to Miss Susan Young, please?

Oh.

When will she be back?

It's personal.

Yes, very important.

Well, yes, if you could.

Where is that?

Thank you.

- Alex. - Hi!

- Are you all right? - Yes.

- Now, what would madam like to see first? - Hmm, I don't know.

I see you like coppers.

You're scum, Renwick. You and that boat of yours.

Watch your mouth, you old drunk.

Some cargo, no one carries.

Is that right?

Well, you're in it up to your dirty neck. Remember that.

Oh, I don't know, Charlie.

- It's fully fitted, but it's not very attractive. - Aye, it's pricey, too. Watch your overheads.

- (Car horn toots ) - Still, I'm tempted.

It's convenient.

With the concession from ROSPERs, that's not important.

Look, wouldn't you prefer something a bit cheaper, but with more style?

Ideally, yes. But where?

Have you erm... Have you considered York House?

Of course, but there's nothing on the market there.

Not officially, no. But I happen to know there are one or two offices coming up for lease.

Really? Well, might be worth a look.

Good. I'll arrange a visit, tomorrow afternoon.

- No, Charlie, you've done quite enough. - I've got to get you off on the right foot.

- You are sweet. - Not at all.

Excuse me. Susan Young?

- Yes? - Of Hobson and Young?

Have you got a moment?

- Well... - Your office said you might be here.

- I'll be back there in 15 minutes. - No, this is personal.

- I've come over specially. - Look...

From London.

(Jazz on car stereo )

Morning, Sergeant.

Morning.

When I got back to the hotel, she'd packed her stuff and gone.

Maybe she went home on her own.

But I've got her plane ticket. She's never gone anywhere without me.

- You say you rang her father this morning? - Yeah, he's flaming mad.

Uh-huh. What about this Alex character? Do you know anything about him?

- She met him at a disco. - Which one?

- I don't know. - You never met him?

No.

I couldn't find your friend Mr Bonaparte on the computer.

Nickname. He used to skipper the Josephine till he took to booze and lost his master's ticket.

- Kept his sense of humour though. - The docks are full of comedians, Duvane.

Bit like headquarters.

- You will look for her? - Of course.

- She's never done anything like this before. - Don't worry.

A girl gone missing.

- Erm... You know your way? - Girls! Too much money and junk music!

They just want to have a good time.

Their good time is a pain in the backside for everybody else.

Jim, a call for you. I can't make him out.

Hello? Oh, hello, Bonaparte.

Bit early in the day for the bottle, isn't it? Where are you?

Bonaparte?

Bonaparte?

- Something? - Don't know.

Why don't you get on to your lot at HQ? They're supposed to keep us posted. Remember?

The missus, was it?

I warned you, you old soak.

You lost your ship. You're not going to lose me mine.

Hey, you got something to clean him up?

What's it all about, then?

Who did it?

Come on, you've got something, haven't you?

What's the matter? Have you lost your sense of humour all of a sudden?

- That bloody Bonaparte's taken you for a ride. - I'll keep an eye on him.

Put Lomas and Ramsden onto it. And don't leave Maria on her own.

- I haven't got time to be her nursemaid. - She's good.

- Yeah, the fastest print-out in Jersey! - Cut it out.

Look, she's Uniform. It's not fair on her, and it's not fair on us.

- (Knock at door) - Come in.

- The car has arrived for you, sir. - Thank you, Peggy.

Look, I want more cooperation with headquarters.

You keep playing public relations, Barney. The view's a bit different out on the street.

The view's different from this office, as well.

Us and them is no good to the chief, and it's no good to me either.

I seem to remember a Sergeant Crozier saying something else.

Look, I want results on this case, fast.

Hard information and statistics that will solve it.

Not the word of some drunken old sot.

- The picture's in the evening edition. - Got a storage yard, have they? A warehouse?

- There's no need for that, sir. - Erm... Has he got another name?

No, we will contact you. Thank you.

God Almighty! With a father like that, I don't blame her doing a bunk!

So what exactly are you doing?

- ''I want to speak to a senior officer.'' - Willy, I had a call from Radio Jersey.

A listener's called about a missing girl, apparently.

They couldn't make any sense of it, but the caller left an address and number.

- It's the Secret Garden. - Get down there. Make a name for yourself.

Ho, ho, ho.

We've got nothing better to do than run round, looking for his daughter.

Come on, anything could have happened. You've got a daughter yourself.

What are you doing at my desk, Duvane?

Making a list of importers and exporters with storage facilities.

- (Phone rings ) - Give us more than Bonaparte to go on.

(Heavy French accent) Bureau des �trangers.

- Yes. Some woman for you. - Thank you.

- Hello. - Jim?

- Oh, hello, Susan. - I thought I'd call from my new office.

- That was quick. - Quick? It's a bloody miracle.

- Charlie put me onto it. - Fine.

- You don't sound very interested. - Look, I can't talk now, right?

Oh, I wanted you to be the first to know. It's at York House.

- Yeah, I know the place. - Only a five-year lease, but very stylish.

Just right for me. And cheap, too.

- Look, come round for a drink tonight, OK? - Just a drink?

Yeah, erm... round about nine. All right?

I've got to go. I'll see you then. Bye.

He's busy.

Still, you do like the office though, eh?

Just right.

- Thank you, Charlie. - Oh, think nothing of it, dear.

I thought I told you never to come here, Renwick.

What's this?

Payment for 45 drums.

You ordered 50.

I do not pay for what I don't receive.

I've got crew to look after. Bonuses to...

Add to that a penalty for late delivery.

The storm. I lost a day. And one of my crew.

If the shipment had arrived when we agreed, it would be on its way by now.

You take those chances, Hafiz.

No, you take those chances, Renwick.

I've risked enough for you already.

If I don't get any more money, it'll be your face next time.

I'm so glad you've come. She wouldn't ring the police.

She's like that. Nice girl, keeps herself to herself. You can understand.

You're very young to be a detective.

Very clever when she dropped that plate of macaroons.

''Whatever's wrong?'' I said. ''Whatever is it?''

So we rang their number, not yours. Should have done it right away. High time.

Except she's not the sort. But she's all right now.

''It's your duty,'' I said. ''You've done nothing to be ashamed of.''

This is her. Oh, this is she, I should say.

Come on, my pet. He won't bite you. Tell the nice young man all about it.

- Those are the ones with warehouses.... - Not the girl.

- What? - The girl at the caf� isn't Sally Thomas.

- What are you telling me, Pettit? - There's another girl.

Another girl?

The girl at the caf� had a flatmate.

Apparently, a few weeks ago she got a new boyfriend and they scarpered.

- Did a runner. - Are you being funny?

No, guv, no. She just bunked off with him, never been seen since.

She left everything. Money, jewellery, the lot.

You're telling me we've got another missing girl?.

A Gill Marshall.

(Stereo: # Joan Armatrading)

- Oh, thanks. - Ahem!

- Mmm! - Go on, take the whole plate.

Thank you.

Who says I don't care?

Mmm, delicious!

I never said you didn't care.

You were a bit quick off the mark, weren't you?

Charlie's influence.

Well, as long as you're happy.

Personnel's a challenge, Jim.

- Much more than the estate agency business. - And you feel you need it?

Mmm. I do.

Getting involved in other people's lives and careers. Helping them make up their mind.

Hobson and Young was OK, but...

I want to be independent.

You're still just a branch of ROSPERs, aren't you?

No, no, that's the beauty of it. I get a completely free hand in the Channel Islands.

I get to do my own thing.

Huh! The Bureau was meant to work like that.

- Not a good day? - Oh, par for the course.

I played nursemaid to an uppity WPC,

Crozier played chiefs and indians

and my one lead played hard to get.

It's 48 hours. Hafiz wants the drums out and loaded by tomorrow morning.

I'm telling you. The police are sniffing.

Wotcha!

He's in there with the skipper of the Claudette. Docked yesterday from Antwerp.

What exactly have we got on this Bonaparte?

We ought to be in there.

A pie and a pint. Have it on expenses.

Thank you.

(Laughing)

Thanks, love. Nice lunch today.

- I must change jobs more often. - Your house first stop, then, eh?

- What? We're going to see the office now? - Why not?

(Radio ) Bergerac? Do you read me? Come in, Sergeant Bergerac. Over.

Sergeant Bergerac, do you read? Over.

''Do I read?''! Roger, WPC Duvane. Yes, I do read.

Sorry to interrupt your lunch break. I think I've got something. Over.

Carry on, Duvane.

The master of the Rosiana, a Captain Renwick,

was involved in this incident at Rabat Trading yesterday.

One of the import-expert outfits on my list.

HQ just came through with it. It might not mean much, but you never know.

Where is this Rabat Trading?

A place called York House. Run by a man called Abdul Hafiz.

OK.

Good.

- Miss Young! - Who gave you my address?

Reception at York House.

Now, look here, Mrs Rice, I've already told you.

Your daughter left our agency over a month ago.

Her friends, she must have mentioned them.

- There was one boy, Alex. - I don't know.

- He never called for Elaine at the office? - I honestly don't know.

Now I really must be going.

- She used to phone home so regularly. - Have you been to the police yet?

- She was starting a job at the Oasis. - So you say.

- They say they've never heard of her. - Mrs Rice, go to the police.

- I'll call if you like. I've a friend in the Bureau. - No, don't. Please. I can't.

I can't.

- Where are you bound? - Gibraltar, Tangiers.

- How many crew do you carry? - Five.

I'm one down this time.

He never reported at Lisbon.

You've brought in a consignment for Rabat Trading, is that right?

We've been through it all before.

- What was it? - A hundred crates of port wine.

And Mr Hafiz?

What about it?

That dust-up you had with him yesterday. What was that about?

I've already told the police. Hafiz was two crates light.

They couldn't have been loaded.

Or perhaps they got off on the wrong stacker truck, eh?

You can't be too careful nowadays.

My leading hand. Sleeping off too much whisky. Satisfied?

(Woman shouting in Portuguese )

(Speaking Portuguese )

That's the girl in the photograph.

- You! Get off my ship! - Where is he?

- I've told you once, get off! - I not get off!

I want to see him!

OK, OK, please, please. Calm down.

All right? Are you looking for someone, miss?

My Miguel.

(Sobs )

- The other one could end up here, too. - Yeah, he wasn't drunk, that's for sure.

I'll get the MO to look at him. When she's calmed down, see if you can get a statement.

- Yeah. Still only her word against Renwick's. - Let's see what Hafiz has got to say.

Ah!

I'm Detective Sergeant Bergerac from the Bureau des �trangers.

- You are Mr Hafiz? - Yes. I believe we have met at my club.

- I see you got the door repaired. - Oh, please! I've already told the police.

A foolish disagreement.

Tell me. I'm not quite clear what it was about.

What are they always about, these things? Cargo. Late delivery.

Renwick was making a shipment for you, yeah?

- Port wine. - Something wrong with it?

- Erm... Yes. A few crates missing. - How many?

Six.

- Can I see your order book, please? - Certainly.

Thank you.

Captain Renwick said there were two crates missing.

Er... I don't think so.

- Are you calling him a liar? - No.

Your warehouses, lock-ups and so on. I'd like some addresses.

Of course, Sergeant. With pleasure.

And perhaps that will be an end to the matter.

I have written a letter of apology to the other tenants in the building,

and spoken to Mr Hungerford personally.

Mr Hungerford is chairman of the company that owns these buildings.

It's the real McCoy. Natural dyes, finest wool. All hand woven, of course.

- Arabic, is it? - Moroccan. There we are.

It's a present from a client of mine. Now, each carpet is unique, of course.

Now, you see, this one represents Moulay Ishmael's palace at Fez,

and the gate to the kasbah at Rabat. It's all 12th century. And...

The client wouldn't be Abdul Hafiz, would he?

Eh?

- What do you know about Rabat Trading? - Why, what's wrong?

- You haven't put any money their way? - As a matter of fact, I have.

Hey, they're not iffy, are they?

- Casablanca. - Jim!

- It's not Humphrey Bogart, is it? - Look, why is the Bureau interested?

Rabat Trading is reputable, efficient, competitive.

- Like you? Full of the virtues, is it? - And what's that supposed to mean?

Why didn't you tell her you owned York House? Susan. Are you taking her for a ride?

- Now, look here... - Just being economical with the truth, eh?

Take us out to dinner, butter her up.

I am not in the business of ripping anybody off.

Give her a helping hand and sell 300 square feet of office space at the same time, eh?

Perhaps she'll give you a pressie, too.

(Ersatz oriental music)

(Rings )

Hello.

What?

Right. OK.

I'm on my way.

Jim! Up here.

- It's about time. - Sorry.

- Where'd you put the truck? - Where are the rest of your men?

(Clattering)

Get the skipper.

Get an ambulance.

Jim, you know this guy we've been looking for, the Arab chap, Abdul erm...

- Abdul Hafiz, yeah. - He hasn't been seen since yesterday.

We can't locate him anywhere.

Our bird has flown, has, he, Willy? OK.

Right, then. In you go.

Over here.

It's all yours.

What do they want to see me for? I mean, what's going on?

Well, erm...didn't Jim say?

No. The Bureau's got its knife into this company, Peggy.

Well, I'm sorry, Charlie, but I really don't know anything.

I invested in Rabat Trading in all good faith.

- Mmm, yes, of course you did. - And I'm on the law and order committee.

I'm damned if I'm going to have Jim treating me like some common criminal.

Well, erm... You must have done something to upset him.

All right.

You haven't seen the cargo, you didn't know what was in the drums.

Where were you bound?

Hamburg.

Who was going to collect?

Who were you delivering to?

- (Knock at door) - Yes.

Jim?

Got anything yet?

He's not going to talk us to death.

The seaman on Renwick's boat couldn't have been sick. He walked before the MO got there.

He wasn't going anywhere. Renwick had him moved.

Renwick brought that stuff in. The dead man was one of his crew.

It's all circumstantial. Hafiz has gone.

- Well, we've got Bonaparte. - Yeah, in intensive care.

Come on, let's talk.

(Radio news) ..former employees, helping them with their enquiries.

The body of a 45-year-old woman was found underneath her third-floor bedroom window

at the Grantham Hotel earlier this morning.

Police are treating it as suicide.

The woman has been named as Mrs Margaret Rice, from Fulham in London.

Finally, the weather.

Continuing bright, with occasional showers.

And now...

- Sorry. Had to see you. - What is it?

- I just heard it on the radio. Mrs Rice. - Did you know her, then?

Not really. I just... She came to see me, Jim.

I tried to get her to ring you.

She was in a terrible state. I wasn't very nice to her.

I just didn't think.

She hadn't heard from Elaine for over a month. She'd come over especially.

- Who's Elaine? - Her daughter. She was so worried about her.

- I never thought she'd... - What about her daughter?

- Oh, she did some temping for me. - And she was looking for her daughter?

Mrs Rice, she was looking for her daughter, yeah?

Yes. She stopped phoning home after she met this boyfriend.

- Who was that? - I tried to get her to ring you, Jim.

She was frightened. She'd been having Elaine's dole collected while she'd been here.

- Who was the boyfriend? - Someone called Alex.

Leave Renwick and his boat to the Customs boys, Barney.

Get your priorities right if you want to be a senior officer.

Now, I want a dossier on all three girls,

cross-referenced to any girl reported missing in the last 12 months.

- Yes, sir. - This Alex character.

What is he? And where does he live?

What does he look like? Someone must know.

- Find them. Find him. - Right, sir.

We could have three murders on our hands, for God's sake.

Guv'nor, can you hear me?

Inspector Crozier, can you hear me?

- Yes. What do you want? - MO's report on Mrs Rice, sir.

We thought you'd like to know right away. The blow on the head.. inconsistent with her fall.

Four murders on our hands?

Elaine Rice. Tall, brunette, good figure.

Alex.

Sally Thomas. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Girl-next-door type.

-Alex? - Alex.

Gill Marshall, from the Secret Garden Caf�.

Red hair, green eyes, liked a drink.

New boyfriend.

DJ at Roc's thinks he remembers Gill and Sally.

- No trouble pulling the blokes, apparently. - You'd better do some undercover work.

Oh, I can't. They know me down there. But, uh...

- (Weak laugh) - Yeah, how about it, Sarge?

You and me, out on the town!

- No, thank you. - Why not?

- Well, one, it's not my scene. - I'll show you.

- Two, you've no experience. - I'm willing to learn.

And three... Barney'd never agree to it.

You at a disco! I don't believe it.

Under protest, and under orders.

- Barney? - Yeah.

The merest hint of pressure and the man flips.

Can you bop? Can you boogie?

- How long has it been? - Never mind about the funnies.

How do I look?

Eat your heart out, Johnny Travolta!

- Don't let her tire you out, Sergeant. - I can hack it.

- Discos make you deaf, you know. - Pardon?

( # Chris Rea.. Let's Dance )

Welcome to Roc's Discotheque, Jersey's number one disco.

Chris Rea, Let's Dance. Bananarama's smash hit of '88, I Want You Back.

You're sticking out like a sore thumb. Dance!

- This is a waste of time. - What do you mean? It's working.

- I'm being chatted up. - Just stay where I can see you, all right?

# ..suddenly grown cold

# And outside in the street it's raining

# You packed your bags and said goodbye

Oh, thanks very much.

# No, no, no. No, no, no. No, no, no

# Hey, I'm never going to say goodbye, lover

# Whoo, baby, baby

# I'm never gonna say goodbye

# No, no, no. No, no, no

(Terence Trent D'Arby.. Sign Your Name )

# It is much too late to turn away

# We started out as friends... #

# I was only 17 when she looked at me that way

# It seems like yesterday

# I was only fooling round but she stole my heart away

# I've never been the same

# I felt the strangest feeling

# Like a raging fire it burned

# She left, I cried... #

(Clears throat) Would you like to dance?

No.

Right.

# Love makes you fly

# It can break your wings

(Shallow, erratic breathing)

Mr Bergerac...

have you...

Did you have to turn me down?

I'm sorry, but I didn't fancy you.

Oh, thank you very much.

Oh, don't get upset. We didn't come here to dance together, did we?

- Oh, yeah? Look, it's time we went. Let's go. - No, give it another half an hour.

- Now! I told Crozier it was a stupid idea. - It's still the best chance we've got.

The great detective, are we? After six days? For most of us, it takes six years.

# You could be a singer, and that's no lie, weyhey

# Umpteen women, all at the same time

# You never have no money, but you look like the rich

# Poncing all your money off of some poor bitch... #

You wanna dance? What's wrong with you?

- Nothing. I just don't want to dance. - Why not? Come on.

- No, thanks. - I think the lady would prefer a drink.

The lady?

- You have to be careful here. - Yeah.

Erm... Do you want that drink, then?

Yeah, yeah. Well, why not? Come on.

- I saw you earlier. Where are you from? - Bedford.

- Boring old Bedford. I'm on holiday though. - I bet you've got a glam job.

- No, I'm a secretary. - Office?

- Yeah. - I had you down as a model.

Something like that.

- What'll it be? - Er, vodka and tonic, please.

- Two vodka tonics. - Thanks.

- What about you? - Travel courier.

- Oh. - Morocco, Tunisia, mostly.

Oh, brilliant!

I'll tell you something... What's your name?

- Maria. - Mine's Alex.

I'll tell you what. You're wasted in Bedford.

- You'd have it made over there, a girl like you. - What would you know about a girl like me?

- I married one. - Oh? Has she had it made?

All the way to the bank.

I've got the debts and scars to prove it.

- Well, that's the luck of the draw. - Yeah.

- Cheers. - Cheers.

What the hell were you playing at?

- I took her to her car. - Her car's still there.

She's not been home.

(Sighs )

- What about the disco? - Oh, I checked out. Nothing.

Well, she's no fool. She'll phone in.

She'd better. The chief'll have my guts for this, and I'll have yours.

(Switchboard buzzes )

- Yes. - Message for Jim from DC Lomas.

- He's wanted down at the hospital. - All right, Peggy.

She was your responsibility.

- You OK'd the disco operation. - And you screwed it up.

- Tell Mr Bergerac... - Take it easy. We've got the pesticide.

It's not that.

You don't know...

Renwick brought the stuff in on the Rosiana, right?

It's what he takes out on her.

Him and Hafiz, and that...that Alex.

Two, every eight hours.

I've told you, I don't want problems.

You can't win 'em all. Wanted to phone her parents, if you please!

Stand by to cast off.

- What about the other one? - Ah, pushover.

Could have taken our Sally out on a scheduled flight. All set to marry an oil sheik.

- Get a real kick out of this, don't you? - I just chat up the girls and keep 'em happy.

You're the white slave merchant.

They deserve all they get, silly bitches.

- See you next month. - Merchant vessel Rosiana.

Harbour master's office. Stand to your moorings, we're coming aboard.

Repeat, hold your moorings.

All hands, muster on deck.

Open that door.

Get that door open.

- What's going on? - Get up on deck, Sally. You're going home.

Who says?

Take her up, then.

All right, you don't have to grab me.

I'm going to Morocco.

Not any more, you're not.

- I'm sorry. - It's my fault.

A gentleman should always take a lady home.