All language subtitles for penny.s03e04

[light orchestral music]

[bell tolling]

♪ ♪

- [breathing heavily]

[door slams]

Hey, hey.
Uh, I need to see my wife.

I need to know if she's okay.
Please!

Stop!
Please!

[grunts]

[grunts]

[exhales heavily]

[monitor beeping]

[machine clicking]

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- Morning, sleepyhead.

- What are you doing awake
so early?

- I have a photo shoot
this morning.

- Hmm.

Course you do.

You're a big star.

Come back to bed.
- No. No time for that.

Got hair and makeup
coming any minute.

- Hmm.

It's amazing,
what you've done, Sand.

- Mm.

Well, Dad takes
all the credit.

- Course he does.

But this is all you,
you know that.

- They'll be here soon.

- You don't need them.
You're already gorgeous.

- Mm.

- [chuckles]

[door bangs open]
- Morning, Sandra!

- There she is.
- You look gorgeous.

- [speaking Spanish]

- Do you know what
you're wearing today, darling?

- No, I don't.
- No?

- What do you think?
- [gasps] I love it.

I love it.
- Ooh.

- Yeah?
- Yeah, these are perfect.

I would say
maybe red lipstick?

What do you think?

- The red lip.
- The red lip, I think, yeah.

No, this is perfect.

Did you see?
You're on the front page again.

- Oh, my God.

- Terrible what happened,
but look at you, darling.

- Right, I'll be off, then.

- All right, bye, Alfie.

I look tired.

- No. [laughs]

[Procol Harum's
"Something Following Me"]

- ♪ I hear a weird noise ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Take a look up and down ♪

- All right, mate.
- All right, Alfie.

- Thank you.

Cheers.

- ♪ Cause of the commotion ♪

♪ Is right there
on the ground ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Imagine my surprise ♪

- Morning.

This looks much better.
- Oh, thank you.

Mr. Pennyworth,
I've had a few calls

from your mother already.

Apparently there's been
some trouble

at the Wayne house.

- What kind of trouble?
- I don't know.

But she said you have
to call her right away.

[knock at door]

Ah, good morning, sir.

- Good morning, I'm looking
for Alfred Pennyworth.

- You found him.

- My name is Patrick Wayne.

I understand you know
my family.

- Yeah, that's right.

What can I do for you,
Mr. Wayne?

- My son tried and failed
to kill his wife.

- What?
He never.

- Hard to believe, I know,
but, sadly, true.

He's been locked up
in the Tower of London.

I need you to break him out.

[adventurous music]

♪ ♪

He was taken
straight to the Tower,

and there's been
no contact since.

- I presume you've tried
the legal route.

- Our lawyers
are getting nowhere.

I need to know
Thomas is safe.

- And Martha?

- She's in surgery.

A tragedy,
but nothing we can do for now.

There'll be a plane waiting
to take Thomas back to Gotham.

He'll ride it out there

until we get
to the bottom of this.

- There's a chance all of this
will get worked out.

The authorities tend
to look favorably

on families like yours.

And I expect there's
mitigating circumstances,

as they say.

I have a sneaking suspicion
he was drugged.

- Why do you say that?

- Wild guess.

Was he?

- Who knows what happened?

I'm not taking the chance
of having my son rot

in an English jail cell.

I need him out tonight.

- Well, I'm sorry.
I can't help you.

- Is the Tower that tough?

- No, getting him out
would be a doddle.

It's what happens after.

I'd be hanging myself,
wouldn't I?

Rozzers chasing me
the rest of my life.

- Name your price.

- Mate, I wouldn't do it
for a million quid.

- Really?

'Cause that's
a reasonable price.

- Get out.
- I'm serious.

- A million pounds sterling?

- I'm an extremely wealthy man,
and I love my son.

That's £10,000.

An advance.

My son seemed to think
that for the right price,

there's nothing you can't do.

Was he wrong?

- [breathes deeply]

I'll look into it.

See if there's a way.

No promises.
- Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.

You have my family's gratitude.

[dial tone rattling]

- [humming]

[phone ringing]

- Is that Mummy?

- You finish your milk,
there's a good girl.

[ringing continues]

Hello.
- Mum.

It's me.
- [sighs]

- I heard about what happened.
Are you all right?

- Oh, Alfie,
it was awful.

He nearly killed her.

- Are you okay?
- Yeah, I'm fine.

I've got Samantha
here with me.

Poor Martha's in hospital.

It's touch and go,
they say.

He was not right, Alfie.

Something happened to him,
like he was possessed.

I had to bash him
over the head

to make him stop.

- Well, you done him a favor.
And Martha.

- Well, I forgot
me head scarf.

I had to go back for it.

I dread to think what would
have happened if I--well...

- What was he like
before you left?

- Fine,
nothing out of the ordinary.

He was just making dinner,
God love him.

- No idea what set him off?
- No.

But he was not himself.

- Hmm.
- I suppose I shouldn't ask

where you were last night.

- Not now, Mum.

What do you know
about his dad?

- Not much.

Bit uppity.

He's got a younger girlfriend.

She's a right madam.

Asked me to dry clean
her delicates,

can you believe it?
- Listen.

The CIA are involved in this,

and I'm not sure
what they want,

but you need to keep
an eye out.

You still got
that Beretta?

- Well, I don't like it,
but yes, I do.

- Good.
Don't take any chances.

You call the office
if there's any trouble.

- All right, love.
You take good care.

- I'll be around later.

- [sighs]

- Did I hear the Tower...
of London?

- Piece of cake.

The Tower's hardly even
a real prison.

More for show.
- Yeah.

So imagine the embarrassment
to the Crown if you do this

and the inevitable
repercussions.

- Tempest in a teapot.

I'm talking about
a million quid here.

- But do you trust him?
- No, of course not.

But we don't need to trust him
to take his money.

And there's several more
of them

once Thomas is safely
on a plane.

- Still...
the Tower of London.

- Stop saying that.

We have made it, Chadley.

We've finally made it.

The world's our oyster.

Now, I'm gonna go see Aziz
and see if I can't

make this easy.

And where the fuck's
Daveboy?

- [breathing deeply]

[peaceful music]

♪ ♪

[sly music]

[floorboards creaking]

♪ ♪

Oh, fuck.

- Stealing away
before I'm awake?

Terrible.

- I'm just trying
to get out of your hair.

- That was a wild night.

- Aye, it was that.

- Is there somewhere
you'd rather be?

- No, just--
just work, you know?

- I thought you said
you were in the army.

- I was.
Private sector now.

- Oh.

I rather liked the idea
of you in uniform.

So what do you do, then?

- Pennyworth Security.

Missing persons,
bodyguarding.

The government throws us
a few jobs.

- Do you ever meet
any P-dubs?

- [chuckling] Aye.

Too many of the bastards.

- Have you met
Captain Blighty?

- Aye.
Aye, you could say that.

- Oh, he sort of scares me.

- Mm, good reason.

He was a mad bastard
before the enhancements.

- There's a party tonight
at the gallery I work at.

Do you want to come?

I'd love you to meet
my friends.

- A gallery?

- Yes, well,
it's an intimate gathering

before the art show
this weekend.

It'll be amazing.

It's a multimedia critique
of the normative.

It's an exploration
in expanding

the bounds
of the British psyche.

- Get tae fuck.
[chuckles]

Well, of course I'll--
I'll come if--

if you want me to,
obviously.

Always been interested
in the British psyche.

- [giggles]
Wonderful.

It's Green Street,
next to the cobbler's.

Starts at 9:00.
- Right.

I can't wait.

I'll see you there.
- Mm, can't wait.

- Turned out really well.

- Can I?

- Go on, then.

[doorbell rings]

Now, you stay right just there.
Okay, love?

[clock ticking]

[tense music]

- [humming]

- [sighs]

[gun cocking]

♪ ♪

Oh, bloody hell.

- Good morning.
- Who are you?

- I'm Roger.

Roger Hammond?

- What do you want?
I'm not buying anything.

- No.
No, I'm here for you.

Divorcé?

I enjoy bird-watching?

I have a Yorkshire terrier?

From the Lonely Hearts.
- Oh, yeah.

I remember now.
- Yeah.

- Just a minute.

[exhales heavily]

Right.

I'm sorry, Roger,

but I'm not doing
that sort of thing anymore.

Full of perverts,

in my limited experience.

- Oh.

Right.
That's disappointing.

I've come from Plumstead.

- Oh, that is a long way.

- Two buses.

- I meant to cancel, but...

I've had me hands full
over here.

I don't--
- Hello.

- Oh, hello.

Sorry for disturbing
your mum here.

- Mum?
[laughs]

Get away.

I'm her nanny.

Well, you're welcome to come in

and have a cup of tea, Roger,

use the facilities before you
make your way back home.

- I wouldn't want to impose.

- No.
Come in, come in.

Oh, thank you.

- Yeah.
- Please.

Can you find a vase?
Well done, darling.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

[indistinct chatter]

- [exhales heavily]

Alfred, good morning.

- Busy round here today.

- Yes, I'm afraid everyone's
rather distracted

with the Commonwealth Summit.

Preparing to welcome
the great independent nations

of the British Empire.

- Sounds like they want
a bit more independence.

- Can't say I blame them.

What can I do for you?

- Any update on Mrs. Wayne?

- She's in surgery.
No news as of yet.

- You know, I bumped into her
the day before yesterday.

- Is that so?

- At the Inner Peace Ashram.

Martha seemed to think
that the CIA

were testing
a new drug there.

This drug was given
to Jessica Thistle,

and she murdered her parents.

Stands to reason the same thing
happened to Thomas.

- Martha tried
to contact me yesterday.

- Any chance of talking to him?

- Why? What's your
particular interest?

- Well,
just a concerned citizen.

- Hmm!
How very noble of you.

But pointless, I'm afraid.

He claims he has
no memory of the incident.

- He's telling the truth.

You know he's innocent.

- Well, strictly speaking,
he's as guilty as sin.

Besides, the CIA evidently
wanted Thomas in jail,

so that's where he's staying
for now.

- They also wanted
Martha dead.

- Indeed, so she knows
something important.

I'd like to find out
what that is

before further provoking
the Americans

ahead of a global summit.

- Well, yeah, but--
- Stay out of this.

Now is not the time
for you to be meddling

with international relations,
is that clear?

- Say no more.
- Good.

Thomas may not have
done this deliberately,

but he did do it.

The Tower
is the safest place for him,

for his sake and ours.

- Mm.
[line rings]

- Good morning,
Whitehall switchboard.

How may I connect you?

- Yes, I'm trying to reach
Mrs. Martha Wayne.

But I-I keep being--

- Mrs. Wayne is not
available, sir.

Sorry, goodbye.
- Well--

[line clicks, dial tone hums]

[groans]

[phone ringing]

[mysterious music]

♪ ♪

Hello.

- Hello, Dr. Glubb.

How nice to speak
to you at last.

- Who is this?

- I am the answer
to all your prayers.

- How did you find me?

- Just be glad I did.

Shall we meet
to discuss business?

- Who are you?
- Does it matter?

I'm not the CIA, if that's
what you're worried about.

How much longer
do you think

you'll be able
to hide from them?

They are so vicious
and clever.

- Where shall we meet?

- Cheers.

Well, fuck me.

I do not believe that.

Thank God for Mrs. P, yeah?
- Indeed.

- Mmm.

- You're in last night's
clothes again.

You know,
I've said this before,

we should all present
good business decorum.

- Hmm.
Oh.

I went home with a bird
from the funeral last night.

Hmm?
A real smasher.

Posh as fuck.

Proper nice.
- Goodness.

Well, congratulations.

- Nah, I don't know.

There's got to be
a catch somewhere.

She's invited me
to something

at a fucking art gallery,
for fuck's sake,

to meet her fancy friends.

- Why would she want that?
- Exactly.

Why?

- I cannot fathom.

But in future,

please keep some spare clothes
in the office.

Mr. Pennyworth.

- Morning.
- Morning. No luck with Aziz.

He wants to keep
Thomas Wayne locked up.

- Well, that makes sense
after Jessica Thistle.

- Mm.
- We don't know for sure yet

that they're connected.

- Fuck off.

Of course we do.

Thomas Wayne hasn't the balls
to stab his wife.

It was yon CIA.

- Why is the CIA
setting up Thomas Wayne?

- Thomas was the weapon,
not the target.

Martha knew something,

something more than we do,

else we'd be on the wrong end
of the kitchen knife.

So we're still going in.
Tonight.

- [sighs]

- Where?

- The Tower.

We're getting him out.

- Are you fucking joking?

This is not our fight.

Huh, the CIA? The Tower?
Nah.

No, that's deep, dark water
you're wading into.

- His dad's paying us
a million quid.

- A million?

What, a million pounds?

- Sweet, eh?
- I don't know.

That seems too good
to be true, doesn't it?

No one gets a million pounds.
There's got to be a catch.

- Daveboy, do I really
have to say it?

- No, I know, I know.
Who dares fucking wins.

But, Alfie,
a million quid?

- Call Lucius, we're gonna
need him for this one.

- Right away.

- Hey, hold on a wee minute.

We've been sitting here
for ten fucking minutes

eating pink wafers,
and you never thought

to tell me
that we were breaking

into the Tower
of fucking London?

Fuck.

- Can you believe it?

He actually asked me--

- [humming]

- Do you know, I can't tell you
what he asked me.

But they weren't the words
of a gentleman,

I can promise you that.

So I decided I'm not
doing that anymore.

You never know who's on there
or where they've been.

- Goodness.

I'm sorry you had
such an awful experience.

- I just wanted to meet
a nice man

and spend time with him.

Maybe do a bit of dancing.
I used to love dancing.

Do you dance?

- Uh, no.

Two left feet,
I'm afraid.

- Well, you seem
like a nice normal fella.

What are you doing
on Lonely Hearts?

- Well...

My wife left me.

- Terrible business, terrible.

- She ran off
with Clive Vickery, actually.

- Clive Vickery
of "Good Day Britain"?

[gasps]
Oh.

I do actually remember
hearing about that.

- Yes.

Most people did.

Whole thing was...

very embarrassing.

- That's my husband.

God rest his soul.

Arthur.

- Is--but he--

The prime minister.

And almost the queen.

- He got mixed up
in a lot of nonsense.

But he wasn't all bad.
You should know that.

Died twice, you know.

- I'm sorry?

- So what I'm saying is,

you've no need
to be embarrassed.

Not in front of me, anyway.

- Well, no.

Indeed.

- You know, I never trusted
Clive Vickery.

His eyes
are too close together.

[laughter]

[metallic clanging]

- [sighs]

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[grunting]

[keys jangling, lock clicks]

[footsteps tapping]

Please, I'm begging you.

I need to know
if my wife's alive.

I need to know if she--

I need to know
if she's okay.

[door slams]

♪ ♪

[boat horn blares]

- Yes, uh-huh.

- Okay, now,
I need all of this back,

so don't leave anything behind.

- What the fuck is that?

- This here
is a lock-picking device.

- Hmm.

- Once securely fastened
to the keyhole...

Press this lever,

and the door should unlock
within ten seconds.

- Yes, miss, I'll hold.

- Should?

For fuck's sake.

Does it work, or does it not?

- I don't need to be here.

You know?

In fact, I shouldn't be here.

- No, we're very grateful
that you are here.

Shut up, Daveboy.

- Now, you may not know this,

but I'm quite
an avid mountaineer.

And I've been toying
with several ideas

in that regard.

Now, I'll explain--
- Grappling hook gun, is it?

Give her here.

- Uh, yes,

that's--that's exactly
what that is.

How it works--
- You shoot it at your target,

flick the switch on the side,
and away you go.

- Yes.
- Think I got it.

- Well, you've got
a second one of them somewhere?

Well, how do I get up
the bleeding wall?

- When Alfie gets there,

he'll throw down a rope.

You climb up.

- Oh, that's fucking perfect.

- Fantastic.
- [laughs]

- Now, I must emphasize
these are prototypes.

I've only conducted
limited testing,

some more successful
than others.

- Are you fucking hearing this?

- It'll be fine.
- Mm-hmm.

Thank you, madam.

Thankfully Mrs. Wayne is safe.

Out of surgery and doing well.

- How's that for a sign?

Boots on, Daveboy.

- Aye.

[suspenseful music]

♪ ♪

- [groans]

- [panting]

Shit.
[grunts]

Fuck.

Fuck!

[panting]

So, eh, this Sally girl.

- Yeah.

- She--

she asked me
to call her names.

You know, in bed.
Dirty names.

- Did she?

- Do you think that's normal?

- Happens.

- So I called her
a bastard wee hun.

Seemed to do the trick.

- [grunts]

[hook clatters]

Bloody hell, it worked.

- So do you think
that's all right?

- I'd love to stay and chat
about your love life,

but we should crack on, eh?

Now, if I just flip this--

Whoa!

[breathing heavily]

[sly music]

♪ ♪

- Of course.

I'm the one that's
got to climb the bastard.

[grunts]

- [whistling]

- ♪ Tell her how I feel and
maybe get a second glance ♪

♪ Now I got to get used ♪

- Can we turn this off, please?

- ♪ Living next door
to Alice ♪

- It's best to try and relax
on these kind of jobs.

Makes them go faster.

- I can see no reason at all
for relaxation.

- ♪ Carved our initials
in the bark ♪

[radio clicks,
music stops]

- [breathes deeply]

- [grunting]

Fuck's sake.

Not a fucking word.

- [snorts]

- Ugh.

[keys jangling, lock clicks]

[footsteps tapping]
- Watch it, mate.

Now, this is a pickle.
- Alfie.

- All right, let's not
alert the whole Tower.

- How's Martha?
Is she okay? Do you know?

- She's alive.
She's gonna be all right.

- [exhales heavily]
Thank God.

And Samantha?
- She's fine.

She's with Mum.
Now, stand back.

We'll have you out of here
in a jiffy.

- Uh, okay.

- All ready?
Here goes nothing.

[device clicks]

♪ ♪

I fucking knew it.

We should have brought
a bloody blowtorch.

Fuck.

[device buzzes and whirs]

♪ ♪

[cell door creaks]

[chuckles]
Fuck me.

- I didn't do
what they're saying I did.

I was drugged.
I would never hurt her.

- I know that.

Now, if you don't mind,
your dad's paid us

good money
to get you out of here.

- My father came to you?
- Yeah.

Now, give us your hands.

- What's happening?

- We're prisoners,

and Daveboy's escorting us
out of here.

[handcuffs click]

- You hang in there, mate.

- Every bleedin' night--

Hold on.

[cell door bangs]

[alarm blaring]

- Oh, dear.

- It's okay.
What's plan B?

- Plan B, sir?
- Plan B,

for when plan A goes
completely fucking haywire!

There's always a plan B.

- Mr. Pennyworth
was very confident

in his plan, sir.

[machine guns firing]

- Those were machine guns.

- I do see your point, however.

Having a plan B
or, if I may call it,

a backup plan
might have been helpful

at this juncture.
- [gasps]

We're all going to jail.

- But I still think
it's too early

to give up on plan A.

[gunfire]

- This van isn't bulletproofed.

I should have
bulletproofed the van.

That lightweight alloy
I've been developing.

4-, no, 5-millimeter sheeting
all around.

- That's it, sir.
You think about that.

I'll start the engine.
[engine turning over]

- Where are we going?

[gunfire]
[alarm blaring]

♪ ♪

- All right, sir?

- All right, Chadley,
we can go now.

- Jolly good.

[all grunt]

- Jesus.

- Your plan worked.
- Course it worked.

It was a lovely plan.

Have some faith, Mr. Fox.

[gunfire]

- How are you, Thomas?

- Uh, yeah, well,
I've been better, Lucius,

but, um, thanks for this.

- Oh, hey, just high treason.

No big deal.

- Right, if we're done here,

can you drop me off on the way?

I've got a date.

What?

[knock at door]
- Come in.

[door clicks open]

- Sir, Thomas Wayne
has escaped from the Tower.

- [sighs]

Put out an emergency bulletin

for the arrest
of Alfred Pennyworth.

- Yes, sir.

- [sighs]

[phone beeps]
God damn it.

God damn it!
- What's wrong?

Martha is still alive.

And your damn son
just escaped from the Tower.

- Ah.

- Wait a second.

Did you arrange that?

- He's my only son.

I couldn't let him rot in--

[groans]
- Jesus Christ,

I'm surrounded
by fucking idiots.

- But I don't see the harm.

- If the Brits don't have
a culprit to prosecute,

they'll have to dig deeper,

and they'll start
looking at us.

- But the CIA are untouchable,
aren't they?

- I'm not.
They'll throw me to the dogs.

Claim I'm a rogue agent.

- Are you?
- Of course I am.

Wake up, you dumb motherfucker.

This whole operation is rogue.

The System is rogue.

You're the only square idiot
in this whole damn deal.

[touch tones beeping,
line rings]

It's me.
- Mrs. Wayne is alive.

- Yes, I know.

- What would you like us
to do?

- Do what you have to do,

and then we're
shutting up shop.

- Okay.
- That's right.

Scorched Earth.

- Yes, ma'am.
[line clicks, dial tone hums]

- Scorched Earth?
What the heck does that mean?

- Where is Thomas now?
- I don't know.

[groaning]

- Where is he?

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[guns clicking]

♪ ♪

[glass bottle clatters]

[tense music]

- Uh...
- Shh.

[gun cocking]

[door clicks open]
Oh, God.

[door slams]
- Mum?

- [sighs]

For goodness' sake,
you scared me to death.

- Steady on.
You can put that away.

- Alfie, what have you done?

- Business.
Good business.

- I'm sorry for the trouble,
Mrs. Pennyworth.

Where's Samantha?
- She's fine.

She's asleep upstairs.

- Who's this, then?
- Oh, this is Roger.

Never you mind who this is.

- Uh, maybe I should--

- No, you're staying here.

I'm not having Alfie
spoil our evening

with his shenanigans.

- Daddy!
- Sam!

- Daddy!
- Come here, sweetie.

Oh, it's good to see you.

- Me and Mary made a cake.
- You did?

Oh, delicious.
I'll have to have a slice.

[chuckles]

- So is this
your boyfriend, then?

- Shush, you.
We only met today.

- I see.

- Well, don't be giving me
that face.

I can have a boyfriend
if I like.

- Well...yeah.

- I can dance down the street

naked with him if I like.

- Uh, I assure you, sir,

that's not at all
what I had in mind.

- No, no.

It's Liberty Hall here, mate.

You do as you please.

- I better go.

Goodbye.

Nice meeting you, but, uh--

goodbye!

- Is Mummy all right?
[door slams]

- Thank you, Alfie.
Thank you very much.

- I'll give you ten minutes
with Samantha,

and then we'd better get
to the airport, all right?

- Uh, Mrs. Pennyworth,
would--would you mind--

- Yes, of course I will.

Come on, then, darling.

Let's see what's left to do.

- There is nothing.

- Alfie.

I'm not leaving my family.

- Well, you can't help Martha,
can you?

And Sam's safe here with Mum.

You stay in London,
you'll be back to the Tower--

- I'm not going anywhere.
- It's not up to you.

Your dad's paying us
to get you out of the country,

so that's what we're gonna do.

- Fuck my dad.

- That's my favorite towel.

- I think he is responsible
for all of this.

- Do you have any proof?

- Wayne Enterprises
was developing

a mind-control drug
with the CIA.

Operation Lullaby State.

The doctor running it
has gone rogue,

and now he's trying
to sell the stuff

to the highest bidder.

Martha found out.

- And this Lullaby drug
makes people go nuts?

Could he have given it to you?

- Well, I can't remember
anything that happened

after I got home yesterday,

and now Martha
is in the hospital,

and he's trying
to get me out of the country.

- Not conclusive, really,
is it?

- Of course it is.

He tried to make me kill
my own wife.

- Well, be that as it may,

your dad is paying us
a million pounds

to get you on a plane.

What will you pay to stay?

- I don't have a million pounds
to give you, Alfie.

- There's your answer, then.

- Jesus, really?

- Look, I'm doing you a favor.

What are you gonna do here?

You're a wanted man.

And what you gonna do
with your dad?

Kill him?
Arrest him?

- I-I'll find out the truth.
That's what I'll do.

- Oh, bugger the truth.

Who cares about the truth?

Whereas if you get
on that plane,

I am a millionaire.

- Alfie.

[dire music]

♪ ♪

- [sighs]

♪ ♪

- [laughs]

[indistinct chatter]

- Daveboy?

You came.
- Aye.

- What are you wearing?

- It's a--a long story.

- Well, what do you think?

- Very nice.
- Yes.

It is very special,
isn't it?

- Well, it's better
than those tins of soup,

that's for sure.
- [chuckles]

- Well, I like to think so.

- Sally, what have you
brought us?

- This is Daveboy.

Daveboy, this is
Francis Foulkes.

He's the artist.

- Charmed.

- How you doing there, pal?

It's very, uh, nice art
that you have here.

- Where did you pick him up?

- We met
at the Thistle funeral.

- Ah.

So you witnessed

that inspired performance.

Everyone's
been talking about it.

I'm so sad I missed it.

- That was Daveboy.

- You don't say.

Ingenious!
- Well, I didn't mean to--

- You are fabulous.

Look at this face.
[gasps]

Plebeian angst in the flesh.
[sighs]

It's a pleasure to meet you,
Dave...boy.

- Bloody--
[clears throat]

- Sally, I must
do the rounds.

Hello.
- Darling.

- Ha!

- He likes you.

[dark music]

♪ ♪

[door slams]

- Hello.
- Ah. Hello, love.

Sorry, I didn't mean
to startle you.

I, um--I let myself in
to save time.

You must be
the lovely Virginia.

Alfred Pennyworth.

- Hi.
Yes, Virginia Devereaux.

- Nice to meet you.
- Mm.

- Your old man about, is he?

- Uh, yes.

Please, come this way,
Mr. Pennyworth.

Pat, dear, we have a visitor.

- Mr. Pennyworth.
[grunts]

Is Thomas safe?
- Snug as a dormouse,

somewhere over the Atlantic.

- Thank you.
- Let's settle up, shall we?

Do you need an invoice?

- Oh, right.
No.

- £10,000 down,
£990,000 outstanding.

- Are you kidding me?
A million pounds?

- Please, Virginia,
let me handle this.

- You are the dumbest,
softest son of a bitch

I ever saw.

A million to save
that useless trust fund baby?

- It was the right thing to do.
He's weak.

He would have betrayed me,
testified against me.

I couldn't let him do that.
- He was weak?

[chuckles]
- Here, hang on, miss.

Let's get business
out of the way first, shall we?

- Take a hike.
He's not paying you.

- Oh, he'll pay.

Or I'll start talking
about Lullaby.

You wouldn't like that,
would you, Mr. Wayne?

- What? How?
- Don't say a goddamn word.

[door slams]

- Oh, for fuck's sake,
you were supposed to wait.

- Thomas?
- I haven't got

anything out of him yet.
- [grunts]

- Oh.
- You tell me it isn't true.

- It is not that simple, son.
- Tell me you didn't try

to make me kill
my own wife!

- No, no, I didn't!

- You had nothing
to do with it?

- It's complicated.
- My daughter was in the house!

Have you no shame at all?

No morals?
No conscience?

- Wasn't me.
It was her.

- What?
- It was her.

She's CIA.

She's--she's my handler.

She made me do all of this.

- You spineless
son of a bitch.

- Oh, go ahead,
shoot me.

Send me to prison.
I don't care anymore.

I am tired
of this whole goddamn charade.

- You couldn't keep your nerve
for one more day?

- [sighs]

- [scoffs]

[gun cocking]

Sit down.
All of you.

- Well, here's a turnup, eh?

- Why the hell do you have
a CIA handler?

- I made some mistakes.
- Mistakes?

- Errors of judgment.

- Fraud, corruption,

sexual assault.

- It was entrapment.

The CIA wanted our pharma wing.

- And your father
was a weak link.

- Just curious,

why's the CIA messing about
with drugs?

There's easier ways to kill.

- We've barely scratched
the surface

of what we can do
with this drug.

Give it to 5 people,
10 people, 20,

a whole army,
a whole country.

Imagine they all have
the same vision.

A vision controlled by you.

- You sick bitch.
- I'm a patriot and a realist.

And I'm trying to contain
a dangerous

international security
situation.

- Bollocks.

You've cocked up
good and proper.

And now you're trying to save
your ass as best you can.

No shame in that.
But what's the plan here?

Are you gonna shoot us
or something?

'Cause I've got a gun as well

if that's where we're going.
- Try me.

- I'm just saying.
[sniffs]

- We're going home.

You're staying here
for the police to deal with.

- Well, I'll tell them
everything.

- The government
won't want to hear it.

America is an ally.

You guys are
much better culprits.

Patrick, there's
some handcuffs in my purse.

- Dad, whatever it is
you've done wrong,

this isn't the way
to fix things.

- [sighs]
I have no choice.

- Everybody has a choice, Dad.
[door crashes open]

- Police. Hands up.

Drop the gun.

- Drop the gun.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- What are you doing here?

We didn't call the police.

- No, that was me.

I guess I could have mentioned.

- You're all under arrest.

- See, the plan was to get
Mr. Wayne here to confess,

then find out
where this Lullaby was stashed.

Only Thomas here couldn't wait.

Anyway,
turns out, it was you.

- We have done nothing wrong.

These men are fugitives.

- Just following orders, madam.

- Who's the dumb
motherfucker now?

Scorched Earth, my ass.

- Keep your mouth shut.
We'll be out before breakfast.

- Hey, give us a moment.

What do you mean,
Scorched Earth?

Sounds ominous.

- Tell them, Officer Devereaux,
tell them.

You have diplomatic immunity.

- Shut your goddamn mouth.

It's too late anyway.
I already sent them.

I have no way to call them off.

- What's too late?

- She sent men
to finish Martha.

♪ ♪

[guns cocking]

- Good evening, gentlemen.

- Sorry.

Wrong room.

- That was them.

You should have seen
their faces as they left.

Very droll.

- That was them.
She's safe.

They're gone.

I hope we can see
our way past this, Mr. Aziz.

I am the one
who called you lot.

- Yes, we'll see.
- Glad to hear it.

Thank you, Constable.
We can go now.

Million bloody quid
you cost me.

And are you happy now
now you got the truth?

[bright music]

♪ ♪

We get this sorted,
you gents should come

down to Queen Anne's.

We treat plods like you
just the same as anyone else.

Point of pride.

[siren wailing]

♪ ♪

- [moans]
Oh, yeah.

Say it again.

- Oh, you're
a dirty wee gadget,

and you know you are.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

[door slams]
- [chuckles]

- Who the fuck's here?

- Only me.
Didn't mean to disturb.

- Alfie.
- Who is it?

- Alfie, Sally.

Sally, Alfie.

- Nice to meet you.
- Likewise.

- Well, I was just
up to the office,

so don't let me interrupt.

- Nice to meet you, Alfie.

[chuckles]

[laughter]
Here we go.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- [sighs]
Now I'm stuck.

[sniffs]

- Makes two of us.

- Sandra?
How'd you get in here?

- Chadley let me in
to wait for you.

- Huh.
- I went to leave,

but then Daveboy and that girl
were downstairs.

Didn't want to interrupt.

- Right.

Sorry.

- It's all right.

This is nice.

- Hmm.

- You look tired.

- Long day.

Had a bit of a misunderstanding
with the police.

It's all sorted now.

- What?
Were you arrested?

- Detained.

- What did they detain you for?

- For allegedly breaking
Thomas Wayne

out of the Tower of London.

- Uh, did you
break Thomas Wayne

out of the Tower of London?

- Yeah, we did.

- What was
the misunderstanding, then?

- Well, when you put it
like that,

I'm not sure there was one.

- [chuckles]

- Everyone just sort of decided

I'd done the right thing
in the end.

[poignant music]

♪ ♪

- How do you do it, Alfie?

- Do what?

- Get away with things.

It's been years...

and you haven't changed a bit.

- Well...

not like you have.

- No.

♪ ♪

Being round you again,

I feel the same.

- Sandra, I can't--

- I'm not--

I'm not asking for anything.

♪ ♪

- [snoring]

Hello?

Hello?

Is anyone there?

[tense music]

This is not what we agreed!

♪ ♪

- Dr. Glubb, it's so nice
to finally meet you.

I'm a huge admirer
of your work.

♪ ♪

We're going to do
great things together.

♪ ♪