All language subtitles for S02E14.The Bunco Artists

"City Sensation."

"During the past seven weeks,
thousands of British housewives

"have been swindled
by crooked stock salesmen."

Now, why is the confidence trickster,
or bunco artist, always with us?

Mostly because respectable people
are fundamentally dishonest.

They are. When they're offered
an outrageous bargain,

does it occur to them that anything that
looks so much like a steal probably is?

They're so anxious to make a fast buck,

they don't care
if the deal is a little shady.

- Well?
- Miss Yarmouth sends her apologies.

But they've asked her to wait.
She'll be another hour.

Another hour? What's going on in there,
an audition or a marathon?

Oh, sir, that is the theatre.

Unpredictable, capricious,
magnificent and tyrannical.

- All the world's a stage.
- All the men and women merely players.

- Haven't I seen you in motion pictures?
- I hardly think it's likely.

I've got it.
You're the famous Simon Templar.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

I haven't booked, but could I have
a room and bath for tonight?

Certainly.
We have no private bathrooms,

but I can give you a room at the back,
overlooking the garden.

- That would be lovely.
- Sign the register, please.

We're not very full at this time of year.
Ours is mostly a summer trade.

Boston? You are a long way
from home, Mrs Wade.

Geographically, yes, but my spiritual
home will always be England.

- Oh, really?
- Mm. Those marvellous old churches.

The one here is particularly lovely.
What's the name of your vicar?

Stone. The Reverend Basil Stone.
May I take your suitcase?

Thank you.
I simply can't wait to meet him.

- Really?
- I'm so impressed by British people.

- Oh, why?
- Well, your historical background.

The way you preserve
your great old monuments of the past.

What I mean is, all you have to do is step
inside the door of Westminster Abbey

and, I mean, don't you simply choke up?

I don't get up to London very often.
Shall I show you your room?

- Thank you.
- This way.

Jean's doing an audition today.

- Oh, really?
- A new play.

All about sex, insanity and murder.

- Sometimes that's life, Sophie.
- I don't see any of it.

Really, Vicar, this suit,
it's been to 12 annual conferences.

- It could get there alone.
- We clothe ourselves in humility.

Excuse me. Do you mind if I look around
your beautiful old church?

By all means. I would show you round,
but I have to catch the London train.

- Don't apologise.
- Mrs Yarmouth is my acting secretary.

She'll be glad to answer any questions.

Thank you, but for the moment,
I'd prefer to look around by myself.

- American?
- Sounds like it.

Well, now, before I go, erm...

Oh, yes. I've signed one or two blank
cheques and put them in the top drawer.

You'll have to pay Creighton
for the plastering.

- I expect the plumber's bill, too.
- I'll see to everything.

As you have done these 20 years.

- Well, is that about it?
- I think so.

Another cheque for the restoration fund
this morning. £11.

At last we're over the 6,000 mark.

Excellent. Well, I must be going.
I'll see you in a week.

- Enjoy yourself, Vicar.
- Oh, Sophie, my dear, I'm so sorry.

- I'll miss your birthday on Saturday.
- Oh, I wish I could miss it.

Don't worry about me. Jean's coming
down from London for the weekend.

Do you think Jean will ever be a star?

I don't know, Vicar. I suppose the
important thing is that she thinks so.

(Chuckles) Bless her.

Simon, I'm sorry
to have kept you waiting.

- It's all right. How did it go?
- I was marvellous.

- Good for you.
- No, really. It's a sensational part.

I go insane in act two.
I yell and scream and carry on.

Then I put three bullets
through my husband's heart.

- Want me to play the husband?
- Shut up.

I think I've got it.
Wouldn't it be wonderful?

Mother will be thrilled.
I'm walking on bubbles.

I'll buy you the best lunch in London
to celebrate. Thanks for the paper.

My name is Henderson, International
Detective Agency in New York.

Do you have
a Mrs Amelia Wade staying here?

- Yes. We have.
- From Boston, Massachusetts?

- Yes, that's right.
- How did she arrive?

- By car.
- How long is she staying?

- Just tonight.
- Is she in now?

She went out. She said something
about wanting to meet the vicar.

- I think she went to the church.
- Oh, no.

- Is something the matter?
- Something is very much the matter.

Do me a favour. If Mrs Wade comes back,
don't mention I've been here

and don't show you suspect
anything is wrong. It's important.

Now, where's the police station?

Turn right. It's second on the left
at the top of the high street.

I'm a representative of
the Silas R Marin Foundation of Boston.

We were set up by the Marin Trust to aid
in the restoration of churches

damaged either by time or war.

For some time we've had our eye
on your church here.

Oh, really?

- You're doing a splendid job.
- Thank you.

The late Silas Marin strongly believed the
Lord helps those who help themselves.

Well, I suppose everybody believes that.

Ah, yes, Mrs Yarmouth,
but actions speak louder than words.

Let me make sure
I have the correct figures.

- Your objective here is £8,000?
- That's correct.

And to date, you've raised 6,000.

It's more than that, actually.
Last month's interest plus the donations.

Wonderful. You've raised over 75%
of your objective and you're eligible.

Eligible for what?

Why, a grant from the Marin Foundation.

Under the rules of the trust, I am
empowered to donate the balance.

Wait a moment, Mrs Wade.

- Am I to understand that this Silas...
- Marin.

...Marin Foundation proposes
to give us £2,000?

- Exactly.
- Why, I can't believe it.

It's true. I'll give you a cheque
as soon as you fulfil our requirements.

Requirements?

I require absolute proof
that you have the £6,000.

I can show you the books.
I made the last deposit yesterday.

Mrs Yarmouth, I'm sorry. The books
aren't good enough, I'm afraid.

- They're not?
- Sorry, but I must see the actual cash.

- But you're not serious?
- I'm afraid so.

Mr Marin himself always insisted
on seeing cash in this sort of a deal.

And he incorporated
that condition in his will.

If you came with me to the bank,

Mr Peebles, the manager,
could verify our balance.

I know it seems strange to you,
Mrs Yarmouth,

but I don't control
the Silas Marin Foundation.

I only serve it. I must obey the rules
and the rules say the actual cash.

- But that's ridiculous.
- I know Mr Marin was an eccentric.

I admit. But then it's not every day you
receive an offer of a gift of £2,000, is it?

I'm sorry, Mrs Wade.
I appreciate your offer,

but I couldn't possibly show you
the actual cash.

I have to consult the vicar
and the church fathers.

I've a lot of churches to investigate,
Mrs Yarmouth, and not much time.

I'm afraid it'll have to be today
or not at all.

- It's quite impossible.
- Oh, I'm honestly sorry you feel like that.

Think it over. If you change your mind,
call me at the Wellington Inn.

I'll be leaving first thing in the morning.

There she goes.

Looks as though you're right, sir.

(Knocking)

Come in.

We'd like to talk to you, Mrs Yarmouth.

- I was just coming over to see you.
- I think I know why.

This is Mr Henderson
of the International Detective Agency.

- How do you do?
- Mrs Yarmouth.

Go on, Mr Henderson. Tell her.

You just had an interview
with Mrs Wade of Boston. Right?

Yes. And she made
the most extraordinary proposition.

- I knew right away...
- Did she ask to see restoration funds?

- Yes. I knew right off.
- Now, let Mr Henderson explain.

Oh. I'm sorry.

Mrs Yarmouth, Mrs Wade is what we call
a bunco artist, a confidence trickster.

Mr Henderson followed her
and came to see me.

I was retained by the Foundation
because Mrs Wade pulled this trick

on four churches in America
and two in England.

It was her plan to relieve you of the cash.

I knew she was a crook.
Charlie, can't you arrest her?

It's not quite as easy as that,
Mrs Yarmouth.

If we arrest her now, we'll find she has
the £2,000 she offered you on her.

To get a conviction
for attempted fraud is difficult.

- We've got to catch her in the act.
- And put her behind bars.

- So we need your help.
- What am I to do?

You turned her down flat, did you?

I'm not a fool, Mr Henderson.

She didn't suggest
you think it over or anything?

Well, yes, she did. She said I was
to telephone her if I changed my mind.

- Excellent.
- Just as you said.

Call her. Tell her
you've thought it over and you agree.

Hand her the cash and we'll arrest her.

- We'll be outside waiting.
- Nab her in the act.

- Can you do it?
- Get the actual cash?

Can you do it?

Well, the vicar did leave me
some blank cheques...

I can come down to the bank with you
and explain to the manager.

If you think it's all right...

Mrs Yarmouth, the Marin Foundation

is offering a reward of £500
for the conviction of Amelia Wade.

- You mean...?
- It'll be all yours.

Oh! I'll do it.

The vicar will be thrilled.

£500 will almost pay for a new church
roof. Jean will never believe this.

- Jean?
- My daughter. She's an actress.

She thinks my life is terribly dull.

Wonderful lunch.

Fabulous part. Gorgeous man.
What more could I want?

The day is still young.

- I can't wait to tell Mother.
- Mm?

About the part.

- By the way, how is she?
- Same as ever.

It's her birthday on Saturday.
I'm going down.

- Would you like me to drive you?
- Are you serious?

Of course.

Would you consider staying
for the weekend?

- I would if I was asked.
- Then you're asked.

Mother will be thrilled. Mind you,
Netherdon is dead. Nothing happens.

The only place in the world where the
dogs chase the cats and they both walk.

I think it's marvellous the way you British
preserve your old monuments of faith.

(Sophie) It isn't always easy.
(Amelia) Of course it isn't.

That's why I'm so proud to help.

- Now, have you got the money?
- Yes, right here.

£6,000.

Thank you.

Oh, well, I needn't count it.
I'll take your word for it.

I know this all seems silly,

but a man as generous as Mr Marin
must be forgiven his little idiosyncrasies.

Oh. Quite.

- £6,000 and here is our cheque.
- Thank you.

- Oh, dear. I've ruined your envelope.
- Oh, it doesn't matter.

But I insist. We can't leave it
just lying about the place.

It will be more convenient
for you to take back to the bank.

Oh, hideous taste.

You think they'd do something
to make glue more appetising.

Now, there's just one small formality.
You must sign our receipt book.

There, if you will. I've written
the name of the church and the details.

Thank you very much, Mrs Yarmouth.

- And I guess that winds things up.
- Not quite.

- Officer.
- Mrs Wade, alias Markles, alias Smith?

What the devil goes on here?

- We've got you, Mrs Wade.
- Thank goodness.

I'm arresting you on charges of fraud,
larceny and theft.

Anything you say may be taken down
and used in evidence.

- Just a minute, you guys.
- May I see that envelope for a minute?

Thank you.

- Paper.
- Exactly.

But how did she do it?
And where's my money?

Well, I'll explain. It's a question
of the hand being quicker than the eye.

This is not the envelope
you saw her put your money in.

But I was watching her all the time.

This is a case used by stage magicians.

It has a false bottom.

The back of the case is spring-loaded.

Press it hard on anything, it collapses.

Your money goes in
and the fake envelope drops out.

How did she know what envelope
Mrs Yarmouth would use?

She didn't have to. She destroyed Mrs
Yarmouth's envelope when opening it.

- That one she provided herself.
- Are you trying to train her?

- Take her to the station and book her.
- Right.

Just a minute.
We need all this for evidence.

We'll need that money of yours,
sealed in the envelope.

Must I?
I can't bear letting it out of my hands.

Surely you trust your own police?

Oh, yes, but...

I took a note of the serial numbers
of those fivers.

It has to be opened in front of witnesses
so we can verify the numbers.

That's right, Sophie.

Would you give Mrs Yarmouth a receipt?

- Yes, sir.
- I'll take the girl to the car.

- Have you got paper?
- Of course.

Now you sign.

Charlie Lewis.

That should do it.

When shall I get my money back?

I'll bring it back myself within an hour.

I'll probably get promotion over this.

Mr Henderson knows the top men
at Scotland Yard.

Just be careful of my money, that's all.

Don't worry. You can trust me.

Mr Henderson?

Mr Henderson?

£6,000.

- What a woman.
- What a husband.

Nice in about 20 minutes.

- Oh, good.
- Why so gloomy?

I was thinking about Mrs Yarmouth.

Don't tell me
you're developing a conscience.

- A bit late for that, I suppose.
- How right you are.

Still, I wouldn't mind
leading a normal existence.

By normal do you mean
I become lawfully employed?

- Other men are.
- What had you in mind?

That I sell tyres from nine to five
at £12 a week?

Richard, it needn't be that dull.

My dear, I have no trade,
very little education

and no experience of anything except
prizing gullible idiots from their cash.

- At which I'm extremely good.
- A rather dubious distinction.

What had you in mind, domesticity?

Cooking cabbage over a hot stove?

I wouldn't mind cooking cabbage
if you ate it.

Darling, you're sweet, but impractical.

We'll have two weeks at the Imperial in
Cannes, hop over to Rome for a month,

sunshine, relaxation and £6,000.

- Sounds rather fun.
- Mm. Heaven.

Right, then forget about Mrs Yarmouth.

And by the time Charlie and I broke the
lock on the door, they were miles away.

- Mother, it wasn't your fault.
- It was.

I was so greedy for the reward money I
could think of nothing else. A new roof...

- What time yesterday did they leave?
- About 3:15.

- So they've had a 24-hour start.
- We shall never find them. Never.

- Do the police have any leads?
- No, I don't think so.

The vicar, he'll simply die. £6,000.

And we'd worked so hard
to raise it, Simon.

All kinds of little people had contributed.
A penny here, a shilling there.

- Simon will think of something.
- But what?

One thing a bunco artist
plans carefully is his escape.

- They didn't have much time.
- What do you mean?

Mrs Wade couldn't have known exactly
when your mother was going to call her

and say she'd changed her mind
about the Foundation.

How they left the country must have
been a last-minute decision.

You mean...they're out of England?

- Probably. No dials in Netherdon?
- (Sophie) No. You call the operator.

- Where is the switchboard?
- In the post office on the high street.

Wait here. I have an idea.

- Where are you going?
- The post office.

Oh, Jean. I've been so silly, so stupid.

I'll never be able to face anybody again.

Don't worry. If the money isn't recovered,
I'll help pay it back.

£6,000. It'll take centuries.

I'm going into a new play next month.

The salary's... It won't take centuries,
only about 50 years.

Oh.

And I never listens to no conversations.

Sorry, Frank. There's no answer.
He's probably in the bar.

But you keep a list
of long-distance calls to London?

Of course. The calling number,
the number wanted and the time.

- Look. See here.
- The numbers don't mean much to me.

That's Joe Simmons
calling his brother in Finchley.

Next is Bill Jarvis calling his office in
Whitehall to say he's sick when he isn't.

And that's the box telephone
on the green calling Air France.

- Air France?
- Yes. Air France.

- You're sure?
- Yes. Quite. Look, the third one down.

- Grosvenor 9030 in London.
- And that's Air France?

Unless they've changed their phone
number in the last 24 hours.

- What time was the call placed?
- I think... Yes, it was.

It was placed in the call box on the green
at ten past one yesterday.

Hm. Do you think you could get me
Air France in London now?

Of course I could.

I called Air France and at ten past one,
they had a reservation to Nice

from a Mr and Mrs Richard Eade.

- And you think it's them?
- It has to be.

- No one else called from here.
- What are you going to do?

How would you like
a trip to the south of France?

- Oh, I'd love it.
- Good. You've got two hours to pack.

Of course I remember you,
Monsieur Templar.

Meeting you is an experience
no policeman can forget.

Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment.

- May I present Miss Jean Yarmouth?
- Delighted to make your acquaintance.

- But the company you keep...
- You mean Mr Templar?

Please. Miss Yarmouth thinks of me
as a sweet, simple, law-abiding boy.

When the disillusionment comes, it will
be agony. And what can I do for you?

We want to trace
a Mr and Mrs Richard Eade.

They arrived on a flight
from London yesterday.

Why? You wish to separate them
from their money?

As a matter of fact,
Richard is an old school friend.

They're on their honeymoon.

Then why do you disturb them
if he is a friend on honeymoon?

- We want to surprise him.
- With a present.

I can imagine.

Colonel, please, as a favour to me,
will you do it?

Mademoiselle, all tourists have to
surrender their passports to their hotel.

The hotel then sends their names
to the local police station.

In this way,
we can keep track of undesirables.

Ooh, France is so efficient
and the police force are so charming.

- You will help us, won't you?
- Mademoiselle, I will help you.

I suggest you go and have some coffee

and if Mr Templar will return in half
an hour, I will have the information.

- Colonel, you are sweet.
- And a gentleman.

Monsieur Templar, I am a policeman.
I suggest you remember that.

- The French police have clone it again.
- Really?

The Eades checked in last night.
The Imperial Hotel in Cannes.

- So we've got them.
- Now we separate them from the £6,000.

- Monsieur?
- I'll have one very dry double martini.

Bien, monsieur.

(Texan accent)
That's what I call serious drinking.

Hiran S Toombs from Texas.
Just call me Hi. Most of my friends do.

- How do you do?
- Pretty good most of the time.

Losing some at the casinos.
Rustling myself a few steers.

- Pardon?
- The two-legged kind.

Picked myself up
a real cute little filly in Paris.

Don't parley no Anglais, but ain't the
conversation that I'm interested in.

- If you get what I mean.
- It's fairly obvious.

- I suppose you're a rancher.
- A what?

- A rancher.
- Oh, rancher.

No. Unloaded most of my land.
Got a few acres still in downtown Dallas.

Got a few oil wells
that keep pumping it in.

- Voilà, monsieur.
- Thank you.

Hey, Louis, bring me
another birdbath Manhattan

and take me and my friend's out of this.

You shouldn't, really.

Well, why not?
Plenty more where this came from.

Joyce, there's a mark in the bar
that must be seen to be believed.

- Oh, now, Richard.
- A Texan. A rich glad-handler type.

- His wallet's bursting with trinkets.
- You swore this would be a holiday.

I know, my darling.

But Hiran S Toombs
is too good to be missed.

Now, listen. Here's how we set about it.

Merci.

- Thank you...
- Now, sit there and shut up.

- Whisky and soda, please.
- Oui, madame.

Good evening, ma'am.

- Are you a Yank?
- No, ma'am, I'm a Texan.

It's the same thing, isn't it?

No, ma'am. You see, the United States
is a country. Texas is a state of mind.

That's plenty.

It only takes a thimbleful to drown it.

- (Dog barks)
- Shut up.

Would you be interested in knowing
how to sell more drink?

- How is that, madame?
- Serve a full measure.

You Frenchmen are all gyp artists.

So there's no tip.

Charming, isn't she?

- (Sighs) It takes all types, monsieur.
- What's her name?

I do not know. She is new here.

- Well, hi there.
- Good evening, Mr Toombs.

- What y'all doing down there?
- The lady you were with dropped this.

That lady was not with me,
but she had that thing around her neck.

- Very interesting.
- It is?

A beautiful stone.
Not these in the necklace itself,

but they're genuine and well set.

Lovely emerald.
Shabby setting but a beautiful stone.

- You mean it's valuable?
- I'd say about 5,000.

- Dollars?
- No, pounds. 15,000 American dollars.

Forgive me being interested, but I'm in
the diamond business. Hatton Garden.

$15,000.
You don't say, Mr...Robbins, is it?

Robbins, yes.

You suppose we ought to be figuring
a way of getting it back to her?

- Don't you know her name?
- No.

- I suppose the simplest thing to do...
- That's mine, thank you very much.

Madame, nobody is denying the fact.

I suppose you were figuring
on a reward if you turned it in.

Ma'am, y'all doing my friend
and me here a grave injustice.

Don't try and fool me. I saw him
looking at it through that glass.

- You were deciding whether to steal it.
- I beg your pardon?

For your information,
the emerald happens to be a fake.

I picked it up at a junk shop for £20.

But the necklace is real
and it's insured for £1,000.

Then you have been
grossly misinformed.

When I want information, I'll ask for it.

- As a professional jeweller, I must...
- So that's your game.

The things some people do
to drum up business.

There.

So you two don't die of disappointment,
have yourselves a drink on me.

- Well, I do declare.
- Extraordinarily unpleasant woman.

What shall we do about this?

We took the insults,
might as well swallow this.

- Louis!
- Monsieur.

- Incredible way to behave.
- What are you gonna have?

- I think a dry martini.
- Make it two. Doubles.

- Deux doubles martinis. Oui, monsieur.
- With lotsa ice.

Mr Robbins, sit over here, shall we?

You couldn't have been wrong
about that emerald?

Not a chance. You have to know
about emeralds in my profession,

especially with these synthetics.

It's genuine. She probably got it from
a junk dealer who didn't know its value.

- It happens all the time.
- You reckon?

I'd buy that this instant for 5,000
and sell it in London for seven.

Fair beats everything, don't it?
Her thinking it's a piece of glass.

That's her right as far as I'm concerned.

Mr Robbins, why don't you go after her
and try buying it?

- My clear fellow, why?
- She'd sell it for 1,000.

- You'd make yourself a nice profit.
- Steady on. I'm in the business.

If I didn't make a fair offer and it came
out, my reputation would be ruined.

- Here's egg on your face.
- Mm? Oh, quite.

Mr Robbins, just supposing,
supposing, mind,

I was to bring you that stone tomorrow,

would you feel bound by professional
ethics to ask me what I paid for it?

If this were an ideal world, Mr Toombs,
I suppose I might be.

But being human
and not being directly involved,

I think I might feel it was poetic justice

for such an unpleasant woman
to be...shall we say, taken.

Meaning you would be willing
to give me £5,000 for it?

Willing? I'd be delighted.

Mr Robbins,
it's a pleasure talking to you.

- Thank you.
- Why, here's my little French filly.

Honey, I want you
to shake hands with Mr Robbins.

- Mr Robbins, Therese Duprez.
- How do you do?

- Say hi, honey.
- Allo.

- That means hi. Hey, Louis.
- Monsieur.

- Bust out a bottle of champagne for us.
- Oui, monsieur. Toute suite.

- Mr Robbins, join us.
- Thank you very much.

Honey, what's
your little old reaction to emeralds?

See what I mean?

Richard, do you realise
it's 3:30 in the morning?

- I most certainly do.
- Well, what kept you?

"Y'all" and his French filly.

Dallas is in the northwest corner
of Grandpappy's cow pasture.

You were wonderful.
You gave a beautiful performance.

- I was rather good, wasn't I?
- Superb.

- Did he bite?
- He's well and truly hooked.

You can reel him in tomorrow.

- I hope you know what you're doing.
- Every single move.

- Uh-uh. Here she comes.
- Is she wearing it?

Relax. She is. Hey, give me that.
French fillies don't read the Tatler.

- Why, good morning, ma'am.
- Oh, it's you.

Why don't you sit down
and give this doggy a rest?

I've just one thing to say to you.

- Before you do, let me buy you a drink.
- No thanks.

Honey, mosey down to the bar
and buy me a drink?

- Sherry?
- No, gin and tonic.

- Gin and tonic.
- And heavy on the ice.

- Lots of glace.
- Beaucoup de glace.

She's the cutest little trick
that came down the pike.

Blast the fool thing.

Ma'am, you go on like that
and you'll lose it.

Oh... It's jinxed, that's what it is.

I should never wear it.
I've lost it twice and had it stolen once.

Each time it cost me money to get it
back. Last night I had to buy you a drink.

My last husband gave it to me
and he was bad luck.

Oh, now the clasp is really broken.

Now, you just take it easy, ma'am.

You know what? I'm going to sell it. If
I can find an honest jeweller in this town.

It occurs to me, ma'am, you might be
interested in selling it to me.

You?

My little French doll has
a hankering after jewellery.

- And you want to buy it?
- That depends.

- On what?
- The price.

- £2,000.
- Last night you said it was worth 1,000.

Last night I had no intention of selling.

£2,000 - that's 6,000 bucks.

OK, ma'am. It's a deal.

A Texas gentleman never haggles
with a lady over price.

I'll sashay down the bank in the morning
and meet you in the bar at noon.

All right. Bar at noon.

But don't think I'll be surprised
if you don't turn up.

Ma'am, a Texan
never welches on a bargain.

The bar at noon. ls my little French doll
gonna be surprised!

She certainly is.

Here. You big Texan ham.

- Thank you, honey.
- That's all right. How'd it go?

- As predicted.
- She bit?

Sure did.

How did it go?

Texas has surrendered!

The point is, Simon, we made this little
junket to recover Mother's £6,000.

- Which we will.
- But how?

By paying Mrs Eade £2,000
for a worthless necklace?

- You'll see.
- I don't understand.

It's the principle you don't understand.

The bunco artist looks for
the fatuous innocence

that I represented
as a glad-handed, rich Texan.

The Eades operate on the theory that
the human is fundamentally dishonest.

Which it is.

Exactly. They know I won't be able to
resist a shady deal with a quick profit.

- How do we get our money back?
- Why don't you leave it to me?

Oh-oh. Here comes
the backbone of Hatton Garden.

Get back into the Parisian act.

Thank heavens he doesn't speak French.

- Good morning, Mr Toombs.
- Hi, Mr Robbins.

Bonjour, mademoiselle,
j'éspere que tu vas bien.

- Say hi, honey.
- Hi.

Mr Robbins,
I'm glad you happened along.

I presume you're serious
about what you said last night.

You are in the market for
that gruesome old bat's pendant.

Don't tell me you've stolen it.

No, but I figure on getting it
at a bargain price.

Don't worry about her.
She don't understand much English.

Just "yep" and "gimme". I just want
to know you're not joking me along.

Mr Toombs, I never joke about business.

- Meaning you'll buy it for £5,000?
- I will. In cash.

I figure on getting it at noon.
When could we get together?

I'm playing golf this afternoon.

What say, about seven o'clock
in the hotel bar this evening?

- Y'all got yourself a deal.
- Good.

Au revoir, mademoiselle.

Well, the fish are biting this morning.

- You'd better hurry. It's five to 12.
- I'm ready.

I'll finish the packing. Our plane leaves
for Rome in one hour and 30 minutes.

- How do we get to the airport?
- You go in a taxi with the bags.

I follow in another with the golf clubs.
Texas can't see us leave together.

When we get to Rome,
can we please have a holiday?

We've got £6,000 from Mrs Yarmouth.
We've got £2,000 from Mr Toombs.

When we get to Rome,
we'll relax and enjoy ourselves.

Do I look sufficiently horrible?

You look hideous and I love you.

Well, this is it.

Good luck.

You actually turned up.
I didn't think you would.

Like I said, ma'am,
I always keep a bargain.

- What can I buy you to drink?
- Nothing. I'm leaving in an hour.

- Did you bring the money?
- Sure did.

It's all there. Four bundles of 500 each.

- And there you are.
- Well, thank you, ma'am.

My, real pretty.

I suppose you'll tell your girlfriend
the emerald's genuine.

I figure that's my business.

Men, they're all the same.
Liars and cheats.

Well, good luck.

Thanks, ma'am. And the same to you.

- That was quick.
- It couldn't have been easier.

Oh, what a beautiful sight.

- Joyce, I'm proud of you.
- Thanks. I'm not.

What's the matter? You all right?
Your conscience is getting fragile.

- Forget it.
- Oh, money, I love you.

We're carrying far too much cash.

- What about traveller's cheques?
- (Knocking)

- Who is that?
- The bellhop for the bags.

I didn't phone down.

- Nothing went wrong?
- No. Answer it.

Hi there, Mr Eade, alias Henderson
of the International Detective Agency.

Oh, no.

- And Mrs Eade.
- You.

Alias Amelia Wade of
the Silas Marin Foundation. Excuse me.

Officer, s'il vous pléit.

Monsieur.

Officer, without intruding upon
your authority,

may I ask them a few questions?

- Proceed, monsieur.
- But your accent.

Assumed. Ashamed as I am to admit it,

I am not a citizen
of the noble state of Texas.

- You phoney.
- Phoney?

Coming from your lips, that's very funny.

Officer, would you tell Mr and Mrs Eade
what you witnessed in the hotel bar?

I saw madame hand you a necklace.
This one.

Well set. Imitation stones,
worth approximately 500 francs.

Then you gave her
an envelope containing money.

- Oh.
- Did you get the serial numbers?

Oui, monsieur.
They are numbered consecutively.

From SR1908630 up.

(Simon) My money, please.

You made a deal
on your own initiative, Mr Toombs...

- The name is Templar.
- What?

Simon Templar.

Now, I would like my money peacefully.

On the other hand, if you want me to,
I will take you and the room apart. Hm?

All right.

Well, thank you.

Now, let's take our minds back
to Netherdon village, shall we?

- Oh, no.
- You can't touch us.

No temper tantrums, please.

Officer, I think you'd better sit down.

This is a long, sad tale
and you may not be able to bear it.

- Merci.
- Je vous en prie.

All over Netherdon parish,
old people, widows, children,

plumbers, bricklayers, carpenters,
ordinary people,

contributed their pennies to
the Netherdon church restoration fund.

- These parasites stole it.
- (Tuts) No.

Yes. £6,000.

Toujours la méme chose
avec les Anglais, n'est ce pas?

Yes. They sabotaged a sacred work

in order to sit around
a luxury Riviera hotel and drink.

Incredible.

- He impersonated a detective.
- Impersonation.

She pretended she was from Boston,
representing a large American charity.

Fraud and using a fictitious name
for purposes of extortion.

I'll take Mrs Yarmouth's £6,000.

- I haven't got it.
- We lost it at the casino.

- That's right.
- You must believe us.

I don't.

How would you like me to hit you hard?

- Are you going to let him assault me?
- I regret that you must not assault him.

- There.
- Just hit him.

Please don't!

Well?

All right.

Is it all here?

All but £50.

I'm waiting.

- I haven't got it.
- Francs will do.

Richard, pay him.

So much for your ill-gotten gains.

Now there's a question
of a few other items.

- Other items?
- For instance?

My little French filly
is really Mrs Yarmouth's daughter.

To fly down here from London,
give or take a few centimes, cost £180.

- This is becoming a shakedown.
- If that's the way you feel about it.

- I certainly do.
- Officer, impound their baggage.

- At once.
- I'll get in touch with Mrs Yarmouth.

She can contact the police
to begin extradition.

- Extradition?
- Why, yes.

So that after you've served
your four or five years in France,

you can be taken back to England
to answer charges

of embezzlement, larceny and so on.

- Go ahead, Officer. They're all yours.
- Richard.

Look, erm...
I think we can straighten all this out.

Really? How?

Well, er...

Your expenses could be taken care of

and extradition proceedings
can be tiresome.

Trials can be lengthy and embarrassing
for all concerned.

It seems that if Mrs Yarmouth gets her
£6,000 back and you get your £2,000".

I'm listening.

Yes, of course.
Something for your trouble.

And?

Yes, of course.
A little honorarium for the officer here.

Are you suggesting
that I will accept a bribe?

- Yes.
- Attempt to bribe a police officer.

- Oh, we're finished.
- How much?

Well, let's see. What do we have here?
10,000 francs...each.

Each? I can't get out of the hotel.

- Oh.
- Shame. Failing to pay a hotel bill.

That's how life is. Go ahead, Officer.

Hey, wait.

All right. It's all there in the suitcase.
Help yourself.

Alors. Madame. Merci, monsieur.

- (Simon) "You cannot assault him."
- Just hit him.

Simon says you gave
a lovely performance.

- I did, considering I had no rehearsal.
- Jim, we're grateful.

Think nothing of it. Oh, about
that 10,000 francs, I don't need it.

I've just finished a movie.
They're paying me a fortune.

- What do you think is fair?
- Renting the uniform cost me 30 francs.

Pay me that and buy me another drink.

(Texan accent) Where I come from, that
sounds a sporting proposition. Gargon!

Talk about instant retribution.

I know. I'm just stunned.

- One moment we're rich...
- And the next minute we're broke.

What am I going to do?

I mean, it looks as if I'll have
to find...lawful employment.

One, two, three, four, five. £6,000.

Oh, I think I'm going to faint.

Not yet. There's 2,000 for the church
restoration fund. Now you can faint.

- Oh, Simon, I don't know what to say.
- Well, don't say anything.

Oh, not to you. To the vicar.

How am I going to explain
a donation of £2,000

without admitting that I was - what's
the expression? - played for a sucker?

- Say it was The Silas Marin Foundation.
- But that's a lie.

You could say it was donated
by Mr and Mrs Richard Eade.

It was, you know,
with a little saintly assistance.

Shucks, ma'am. I'm darned if I ain't
getting to like you better than my horse.