Original subtitles

Emma? Hmm?

It's not a full moon, is it? I shouldn't think so. It's 8 .45 in the morning.

Where do they come from? Where do who come from?

The loonies.

This morning's post is full of them.

There's a letter here from two nudists asking me to marry them.

Oh. Aren't they Christians?

Well, I presume so, but they want me to marry them in the nude.

The nude?

Yeah. Hmm. You or the couple?

In further...

In furtherance of our philosophy, the wedding party, including respective

parents, who also share our views, would be au naturel. Perhaps they want to

save money on dress hire.

Oh, I'll get it.

Well, if a bride wants a white wedding, she'd better keep out the sun.

Ah, Desmond.

God bless the woman of the house. Don't try to talk to me, Desmond. Go through

to the kitchen.

Oh, dear, oh, dear, that sounds ominous.

Hello, Desmond. How are you?

I'm good.

I think I'm in for a rollicking.

Oh, what for?

I don't know. It's about the weddings on Saturday last. Oh, weren't they

beautiful? I wept like a drain.

Sit.

You know the church warden forbids confetti on church premises, don't you?

A wedding's not a wedding without confetti. I insisted on having confetti

wedding. I didn't know you were married, Desmond. It was a long time ago,

Philip. It didn't last.

Oh, sorry.

Hardly surprising, really. My wife had a drink -related problem.

What was that?

Me.

Never mind about your wedding.

One of the choir saw you at the back of the church felling bagged with confetti

at 20 pence a go. Desmond, you weren't. Of course I wasn't, Philip.

Confetti's forbidden. No. It was pages of colour magazines torn up every time.

Desmond, sometimes you make me absolutely furious.

Well, I swept up afterwards, didn't I? Yeah, charge me a fiver for doing it.

You mean he made money making a mess and more money clearing it up afterwards?

Quite. I don't know what all the fuss is about. I thought you'd have been

pleased. Pleased? Well, you're always telling me to use my initiative.

Making more than 15 quid out of a pile of old magazines is pretty good going, I

should say.

Shall I put the kettle on or hit him with it?

Philip, if you feel that I have acted dishonorably in any way, just give me

task you care to mention, and I will work off that fiver to our mutual

satisfaction. All right, you're on. You can help me deliver the parish magazines

around the local estates, and we'll call it quits.

Spreading the gospel, eh? I like the sound of that. You have to collect them

Alec, and he'll give you the address list of all our parishioners. Philip,

I have a word?

Oh, excuse me.

Philip, you can't rely on Desmond to deliver the church magazines.

Sweeping up the church is one thing, but letting him wander around on his own is

quite another.

Emma, you've got to start to learn to trust people.

If more people had believed in Desmond, he might not be in the state he is now.

Oh, Philip, how very true.

You weren't supposed to hear that, Desmond. If my ex -wife had only trusted

before we were married, we might both be a great deal happier today.

Why, what happened? Well, I told her that if she married a hopeless drunk, it

wouldn't last a fortnight, and she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

And? I am.

And it didn't, and she does.

and spin it black.

All right, Vicar.

Are you both in the bathroom?

Aye. Come in, you can scrub our backs.

What?

Don't listen to him, Vicar. We're perfectly respectful. Come on in.

Oh.

Hello.

You weren't in church on Saturday, so I bought you the parish mag.

Very kind, Vicar. Oh, I'm very handy. I always like something to read, Aunt Lou.

You both all right? Oh, yes, Victor.

I would help if Waterborne'd let you check. That's why we couldn't come to

door. What sort of check?

Well, it seems the block of flats have got an air cock.

Lock, Mavis. Air lock.

Air lock, then.

Anyway, they've gone to switch it off at the stop lock.

Cock, Mavis.

Eh?

Stop cock.

Oh, I do wish you'd make up your mind.

Why are you both sitting in here?

Well, they don't know which stock cop's which, see? So we have to wait till

water goes off, and then we have to bang on pipe and let them know they've found

it. Who asked you to do this, Eric? Them folks at Waterboard.

The Waterboard?

Yes.

Lovely chaps they was.

Ever so nicely spoken.

You sure they were from the Waterboard? Oh, aye. One of them had Waterboard

written on his axe.

Is that all?

Well, it was a very official looking axe.

How long have you both been sitting in here?

Not long.

Well, how long?

Half an hour and you didn't smell a rat?

Well, they just asked us to watch water going off. I mean, they never said

nought about rats.

Everything all right, Phil? I'm afraid not, Eric. Those cats are...

and ransacked your place.

Ransacked our place? Yes. Well, that was a waste of time. There's no stopcocks

in there.

I think you ought to call the police.

I don't see much point in that either. I mean, if Waterball can't find it, what

chance have copper's got?

Well, at least turn the taps off.

Turn the taps off?

Does that mean they've found what they were looking for?

Yes, maybe.

I'm rather afraid it does.

Still in the kitchen, Wetherall.

Superintendent, do I keep your voice down? The dimmocks are trying to rest.

They're still a bit shaken.

Not surprising, sir. Most of us only get done over by the water board once a

quarter.

How much longer, Wetherall?

Nearly ready, sir.

What's he doing? Fingerprints? No, making a pot of tea.

Tell me, Vicar.

Do you believe in hell?

Hell? Yes, down there.

as opposed to up there.

Well, it rather depends on how you define it.

Well, you understand, I'm not a religious man myself, but the sort of

had in mind is where you've got eternal darkness, the smell of sulphur,

everlasting hellfire, and the screams of sinners being tortured through all

eternity with red hot tongs and pokers.

Ah, well, if it's the medieval vision you mean, then I'm afraid I don't

it. Pity. Why?

Well, I've always found it rather consoling to picture the scum who pick

people endlessly roasting on a spit with an apple in their gob.

That isn't very healthy, you know. Not to them, certainly, sir. No, I meant

Oh, you mean such thoughts could be harmful to my mental health? Well, yes.

You don't have to worry about me, Vicar.

I'm too far gone.

Where's the rope?

Where's that tea?

Just come in, super.

As a matter of fact, sir, I'm thinking of jacking it all in.

You mean retiring from the force?

Yes, yes.

Taking up something a little less stressful.

Like lion taming.

Take up super? Not before time, please, Matheroff.

Three cups, Wetherall?

I thought the vicar might like a cuppa. Have you ever known a vicar to refuse

one?

No biscuits, I say?

Oh, I didn't like the super.

Why not?

Well, I mean, they're just as if somebody pinched their telly, radio and

books. It's a bit much that they're calling the cops and we pinch their

as well.

You know, I always ask for Wetherall if he's available.

I mean, as far as policing goes, he couldn't catch a germ in a cold research

centre, but he makes a beautiful cup of tea.

You got that list for the vicar?

Yes, sir. What list?

Well, there's a plague of con men in the area. Their victims are usually

pensioners. Now, whether it's the same two in this case, we don't know, but you

ought to alert your parishioners to be less trusting.

Less trusting.

In the last few weeks, we've had thefts from old people committed by teams

posing as men from the gas board, electricity board, window cleaners, MPs.

You mean members of Parliament? Yes, sir.

It's incredible.

Isn't it? I mean, who in their right mind would elect an MP in their house?

Carry on, Wetherill.

Social workers, Meals on Wheels, Jeremy Beedle... Jeremy Beedle.

You know, the bloke with the beard on telly.

Somebody actually posed as Jeremy Beadle. Oh, yeah.

While the husband was out, he called in the old woman and said they were going

to empty the house and photograph the husband's reaction with a hidden camera.

You know, they'd be sitting on bare floorboards still if the wife hadn't

the TV company asking when Jeremy was going to pop in and could they have

furniture back.

What rotten swines.

My sentiments exactly.

Jeremy Beadle, Samaritans, officials of the RSPCA, medical officers, nuns,

firemen and evangelicals. What kind of evangelicals? Well, they claim to be

some new religious sect, the Divine Summoner, rather. One of them persuades

old people to pray with them, and when they're on their knees with their eyes

shut, the other one rifles their handbags.

That's absolutely outrageous.

A bit cheeky, isn't it?

Cheeky? Is that all you can say?

If these commoners are as widespread as you say, why aren't you tracking them

down instead of standing here drinking tea?

I'll make a deal with you, Vicar.

If I don't tell you how to baptise babies, don't teach me how to suck eggs.

I'm sorry, but I find the whole thing quite appalling. I quite agree, sir, but

it's typical of what's happening in this town.

Do you realise there's a man being robbed every five minutes?

Yeah, and he's getting pretty sick of it.

Just pass the sugar, Wetherall.

Is that you, Philip?

Yes. I've just had Alec on the phone.

He was rather reluctant to give Desmond those magazines. He said he'd been

drinking again. So I told him we must learn to trust people.

Well, yes, Emma, but in moderation.

What? Well, of course we have to trust people. Of course we have to trust them.

We have to learn to trust them with the right degree of suspicion.

Trust them with suspicion?

How can you trust someone suspiciously?

Look at that list.

I'm going to pin it up in the church hall.

There's a team of common in the area. We've got to warn all our old people to

on their guard.

Good morning, brother.

We bring you glad tidings from the divine brotherhood of the celestial

Hallelujah.

Hallelujah.

Divine brotherhood of the celestial... What was it again?

The divine brotherhood of the celestial beacon.

Hallelujah.

Hallelujah. Quiet.

What exactly is this celestial beacon?

Well, you realise, of course, that the world is due to end very shortly.

Is it?

It has been predicted down to the last minute, brother.

Oh, really? Well, in that case, I'd be very grateful if you'd give me the exact

date.

Date?

You mean of Armageddon? Well, yes, I think it's something I really ought to

in my diary.

Well, it's not far off, is it, Brother Michael? Indeed it isn't, Brother

Gabriel. We did have an exact date for it, but at the last minute it was

changed.

You mean it's come and gone?

Well, the founder of our sect, the very reverend Casey Ackett... Praise be his

name. Praise be his name indeed.

It was revealed to him in a dream that the darkness whereof we spoke would fall

across the land during the last Olympic Games held in Los Angeles.

Really? Well, as far as I remember, it seemed to have passed off without much

a hitch.

Oh, yes.

But you see, the very reverend Casey Hackett... Praise be his name. Praise be

his name, indeed.

You see, he had had another dream in the meantime, which foretold him it wasn't

going to happen after all.

I see.

Has he, um... Has he a lot of these dreams?

Every night, brother.

Too much cheese at bedtime, perhaps?

Tell me, how do you know that Armageddon was postponed?

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

The dread event was postponed because the celestial beacons had not yet been

built. Oh, yes, of course.

And great shall be their glory. Great shall be their glory indeed.

And great is still the glory of those who buy the bricks thereof.

Bricks? You cannot build without bricks. And bricks cost money, and that is why

we are here. Give, give, give, that the lucre you donate may be purified and

return again unto you multiplied.

Hallelujah. Hallelujah.

I see that I'm going to learn a great deal from you, Gator. A great deal.

But before we go any further, I'd like to ask my wife to bring us some

refreshments.

Most generous.

And blessing shall fall on you as a mantle of snow from the firmament.

Thank you very much. I look forward to that.

Hallelujah. Hallelujah.

Work it, Jeff.

Emma, Emma, make us some coffee quickly.

I've just put the kettle on, actually. Good. Then phone the local station and

tell the superintendent that I have cornered those con men.

What are you talking about?

The bogus evangelicals. They're in my study now.

Philip, how do you know they're bogus? You said this morning the loonies were

out in force. Perhaps they're just two of them.

All right, all right, all right. I'll tell you what.

When you bring the coffee in...

accidentally leave your purse on the tray. I'll make an excuse to leave the

room, and we'll see if they go for it.

All right.

Make sure there's no more than a few pence in it.

These days, there never is.

So, sorry to keep you waiting.

Poppy is on the way.

Now, then, where were we?

Is your friend all right?

You are very privileged, Mr Lamb.

Brother Gabriel here is about to speak in tongues.

Was that it?

You sounded a bit Chinese, didn't you?

It is no known language.

But we of the Brotherhood understand whatever is being said.

How very convenient.

What exactly did he say?

He said...

Beaked.

Shangda. Yes, I know that. I heard that. But what does it actually mean?

He is saying you must help build the great beacons.

For when the great darkness comes, as come it must, and the radio and

stations close down, then only these great beacon towers, designed by our

founder, the Reverend Casey Ackett... Praise be his name. Praise be his name.

And only these great towers with their pinnacles of fire will stand as

so that the faithful can gather at their base and thus be in the right place at

the right time to attend upon the second coming.

He said all that, did he?

Yeah, well, that was the gist of it.

It's a very compact language, isn't it?

Where am I?

It's all right, Brother Gabriel.

Did I go again?

You did, brother.

But it proved a revelation, didn't it, Mr Lamb?

It certainly taught me a thing or two.

Then you laid the Brotherhood in its quest to build the Celestial Beacons.

Ten pounds a brick is all we ask.

A ten?

It's a rather expensive brick, isn't it? Oh, yes.

But the brick shall have your name on it.

Well, frankly, I prefer anonymity in a cheaper brick.

Just bring in coffee.

Oh, this is Emma, my wife, Brother Gabriel, Brother Michael.

All beauty and happiness shroud you in the mystery of the divine faith.

Oh, how very kind.

We shall be holding meetings shortly for all female members of the divine

brotherhood. Perhaps you would wish to attend.

Well, I'm afraid my wife, unfortunately, won't be free.

Perhaps you would like details of future meetings of the female brotherhood.

That won't be necessary, either. Off you go, Emma. We've all got work to do.

Oh, um, yes, of course.

Excuse me. As you can imagine, I make most of the religious decisions in this

particular family.

Talking of which, there's something I forgot to mention to my wife.

Do sit down, enjoy your coffee. I won't be more than a few minutes.

Philip, what's happening?

It's them, Emma. It's definitely them. The moment I left the room, they went

your purse.

What are you doing?

I'm making sure they don't get out till the police arrive.

Is that them already?

I shouldn't think so.

If it is, they're amazingly efficient.

They certainly are. I haven't heard the station yet.

Oh, so it is. Splendid. Come in, come in. What's going on? Go straight through

the kitchen. I want a word with you. Yes, and I want a word with you too,

Shh, shh, shh. Please keep your voice down. Come here.

Now, you remember you told me about those two con men this morning?

I told you about quite a few con men, as I remember, sir.

Ah, good afternoon, Mrs Lamb. Hello. I need the bogus evangelicals. Ah, yes,

yes, you don't have to worry about them anymore, sir. We picked them up when

they were leaving town this morning.

What? Yes, I only heard about it when we got back to the station at lunchtime.

Picked them up this morning?

Yes, that's right. Say, you can strike them off that list we gave you.

Sounds like someone's got themselves locked in somewhere.

Never mind about that, never mind about that.

Suppose there was a whole group of bogus evangelicals.

Well, it is a possibility, I suppose, sir. It's more than a possibility,

Richard. There are two men in my study claiming to belong to an organisation

called, believe it or not, the Divine Brotherhood of the Celestial Beacon.

I don't have any difficulty in believing that, sir. After all, it is a

recognised charity.

What? In fact, they notified us before they began making calls in this area.

It seems a half -baked venture to me, but there's no law against it.

You having building work done, Mrs Lamb?

Shall I let them out? I don't know if it's obviously a mistake.

It is not, it is not. I saw them go for her purse.

Help!

Excuse me, sir.

You wouldn't be detaining them against their will, would you, Mr Lamb? No, of

course not. I probably locked the door and forgot to tell them about it. Then I

suggest you unlock it pretty sharp, sir, before you get yourself into serious

trouble. I will. We'll check the contents of her purse and realise

what they seem.

All right, all right.

Get back!

Get back!

We're coming in.

What happened to the door?

I didn't want you leaving without meeting our friend, Superintendent

the Edendale Police.

All praise and honour to the lawmakers and them that patrol the dangerous

streets. Never mind about all that.

Well, Emma? It's all here, Philip.

You see? What?

Every last penny.

But I saw them go for her purse when I walked out of the room. And so we did,

Lamb. You see?

You're obviously against your wife attending our meetings.

So we put a handbill in her purse that she might peruse at her leisure.

Oh, ye of little faith.

I'm terribly sorry.

Come, Brother Gabriel, let us depart in search of minds less closed than

heretofore. No, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute.

Look, please accept this with my apology.

Five pounds?

Yes, put us down for half a brick.

Hallelujah. Hallelujah.

This is not the only brick you've dropped today, Mr Lamb.

What? If you want to sell your parish magazines around the pubs, you first

to apply for a special licensor.

What are you talking about? If I hadn't been present when my deputy constable

nicked your chap, you'd have had to bail him out.

Chap? What chap?

God bless you!

In here, weather -up!

Selling church magazines round the pub. I was spreading the good word.

It's not all he's been spreading.

Leave him with us, Superintendent.

Come along, Weatherall. Let's get some fresh air.

Don't worry, Superintendent.

We'll give him a good dressing down.

Dressing down?

He needs hosing down.

Desmond, how could you?

How could I what? Philip trusted you to deliver those magazines and you've

been... Telling them round the pubs. Probably drinking the takings.

Philip, that accusation hurts me deeply.

The state you're in, I'm amazed you can feel anything at all. I delivered the

magazines according to instructions.

And then I thought to myself, why shouldn't I flog a few more of these

boozers like the war cry?

So I went back to Eric, got another 30 copies, and flogged them all for 30p

apiece. There it is.

There's the money. Go on. Go on. Count it. Oh, you...

Doubting Thomases.

I'm sorry, Desmond.

We seem to have been mistrusting all the wrong people today. I'm very sorry,

Desmond. Anything I can do to make it up? Well, perhaps if you could just let

off that fiver that I owe you. That's already done, Desmond. You've delivered

the magazine, so we're quit. No, no, no, that's not the fiver I meant, dear

lady. What fiver, then?

Well, you know, there should be nine pounds there.

Well, there's only four.

What? Well, I did tell you to count it.

Philip, I'm sorry, but you should know if anybody does.

What? Spreading the gospel is remarkably thirsty work.