All language subtitles for Hamish.Macbeth.S01E01.The.Great.Lochdubh.Salt.Robbery.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor_Track04

- I've got two fine fish here.

- Hamish man, for a minute
there, I thought I has myself

a poacher.

I fancy that's alright.

Is somebody wee in the van
here, lady friend maybe?

- No, Mr. Clunie, it will only be Jock.

- Aye, that'll be it.

- Go on Macbeth.

- Probably my man Macnish.

The poachers have got
me knocked fair stupid.

- They're a scourge in
thiy day, hey Mr. Clunie?

- Angus, come here you big idiot.

Bye the bye, did I mention
that Miss Alexandra

is coming up?

- Come on, Macbeth.

Go on.

- You simmer down.

I'm fine.

- Hey Barney?

- Angus?

Any luck?

- Oh it's hardly a matter of luck, Barney.

It's a matter of pure skill.

Here I've got a couple of
really nice ones outside.

30 pounds secures the pair of them.

- Done, here it's on the house.

- Hey shortie, shut that racket up.

- I'm not making a racket, the machine is.

- You're pressing the buttons.

I said cut it out!

Hey we'll
have no rowing in here.

- Look you big idiot, the loudest things

in here right now are that
jumper and that stupid shirt

you're wearing, so why
don't you just piss off?

Find yourself a sympathetic tailor

and get yourself straightened out.

Barney!

- Can you not see he's only a bern.

- Let go, or you'll feel it next.

- Right Barney, you run across
and get Macbeth over here.

I'll keep Mr. Robb
occupied in the meantime.

- Wait, there's no need to
involve the police in this.

Another time, MacIver.

You just watch your
mouth, boy, just watch!

- I was just about to
smack him there, TV John.

You should've let me take him.

- Put something cold on
the boy's eye, Agnes.

I'll go and get you that wee message.

- Two wee messages.

So who started it?

- Big Geordie Robb and finished it.

Young Suitor will have some face on him,

I can tell you.

You can look now.

Young Robb's even worse
than his father was,

and that's saying something.

- I'll talk to him in the morning.

- Oh you can't.

He was heading off to Inverness
on a weeks golfing holiday

according to Barney.

- Well I'll talk to him
when he gets back then.

- How's the book?

- It's alright actually.

She's coming up.

- Oh really?

- Rory.

Hamish.

- My God, that much!

- Aye.

- What about this EEC business?

- EEC?

Behave yourself, boy.

Now listen we are
entrepreneurs Lachie Junior.

What care have we for the EEC?

Barney.

Hamish.

Hi Agnes.

- Hello Hamish.

Beer Hamish?

Aye.

- Fancy some solace with your beer?

I have a very nice salmon patty on the go?

- Well maybe just a wee nibble, Barney.

What's going on over there, I wonder?

- The wheels of commerce
never stop turning, Hamish.

- Good morning Alice.

Can I hash you?

Well as you can see the
farm of McCrae and son

are raring to go.

- You know what's required Lachan,

so I'll let you get on with it.

- Hey Alice I was wondering
is there any chance

that Big Geordi might give
us a hand do you think?

- My son's not back
from the golf, Lachlan.

But, Whiskey Bob's there if you want him.

- Aye, Whiskey Bob will do fine.

You're dealing with a can do
company in McCrae and son,

you know Alice.

Drive on Lachie Junior.

No Big Geordi Robb, better and better.

Onwards and upwards son.

- Let me get young Dr.
Brown in to see you.

- No.

He'll know, as soon as
he sees, he'll know.

I heard the lorry.

- It's the McCraes.

- Dad?

There's a light on.

I can't do it with the light on.

- Right, this requires a bit more nerve.

Are you alright?

Right.

Stockings.

- Stockings.

- No, stockings, women's stockings, tights

for God's sake!

- I'm not going into a shop and asking

for a woman's tights.

What would people think?

What sick images would
flash through their brains?

- Give me that.

Is there holes in that?

- Yeah at the front.

- Give me the jimmie.

Give me the jimmie.

Okay.

Rory, is
everything alright in there?

- Everything's just fine, dear one.

I'll be with you in a jiff.

Lachie.

We've cracked it, boy.

- There you are now.

I wasn't too long now, was I?

- No.

You smell awful nice, Rory.

- That'll be my Chanel.

It's called Pur Homo.

And now Esme, some mood music.

- Shut up!

It's only bloody music.

Rory Campbell's got this place wired up

like a bloody hyper bonnet.

Take that.

- Hamish Macbeth, calling Hamish Macbeth.

This is TV John McIver
calling Hamish Macbeth, over.

I know who it is, John.

What do you want?

Could you go and see the man

at the Lochdubh General Stores, over?

See Rory about what?

- So help me Hamish.

This will have you baffled.

I mean a burglary's one
thing, but this makes

no sense at all.

- You know this must've
made some kind of noise

when it was forced, Rory.

You sure you heard nothing?

- I sleep like a bern,
and I had an ear full

of fiddle music before I turned in.

That's a state of the art
sound system up there.

You'll hear nothing above that.

- Touch anything?

- Nothing.

And, that's the funny thing.

Neither of the two ever robbed me except

for half a hundred weight of table salt.

- And, that's it, nothing else?

- Nothing.

And, as you can see for yourself,

there's whiskey and all
sorts back here, it's--

- Baffling?

- Baffling, right.

I mean what would anybody
want with that amount of salt?

- Baffling.

Well I suppose I should check for labs.

- Oh no, I've got a business to run.

I need access to my stock.

I only called you in to make if formal

for the insurance, you understand.

- Yeah but, there's a damage
to the back door, Rory.

- Well, I'll just batter a
couple of nails in there,

and I'll remember to his the insurance

for a couple of extras, a
couple of crates of whisky say,

and maybe some fags I'll see.

Enough to cover the damage.

- Well I'll keep me ears open anyway.

Crime's a crime and all that, Rory.

- Well you please yourself, Hamish.

I'll see you out, shall I?

Won't be moment, darling.

Just want to see if they've got a bloody,

or whatever.

- It's Alexandra Maclean, Hamish.

- Aye, I can see that.

- Hello Hamish.

- Alexandra.

Heard you were coming home.

- Only for a few days.

- Of course.

Nice Car!

- Isn't though.

Belongs to my publisher.

He's come up with me.

- Has he?

That's nice.

Morning sir, lovely car.

- Thank you.

Would you like to toot
the horn or something?

- Where are my manners?

I haven't introduced you two.

Peter Peterson, this is Hamish Macbeth.

- Hamish Macbeth?

- That's right sir.

- What a super name.

- Look, we'd better get going.

I have to pick up a few odds and ends.

Of course,
you have a nice day sir.

Hamish Macbeth,
I don't believe it.

I thought you were winding me up.

It's too good to be true, Hamish Macbeth.

- Thanks again.

Hamish man?

- Doc.

Yeah it belongs to a
Mr. Peterson, a friend

of Miss Maclean's.

He also thinks I've got a funny name.

- Oh dear.

It's only some bruno henge.

- Aye.

- I could do with a lift out
to the Fish and Game Company,

Hamish.

I have a house call to make.

- Who's sick?

- Lucy Robb.

She fell off a forklift last night.

- Well I've been meaning
to have a look there

about a job there anyway.

Morning Whiskey Bob.

- You say this happened last night, Lucy?

- That's right.

Look I don't want a fuss.

Just some painkillers until
the worst of it passes.

- Passes?

I think you've a couple of
cracked ribs there, Lucy.

I want you to have an x-ray
just to be on the safe side.

And, a couple of days in the infirmary

with proper medical attention.

- Look doctor, I don't think
that's really necessary.

- But, I think it is, Lucy.

Is your husband about?

- I'd appreciate it if you can tell me

when your son does come back, Alice.

- I will.

But, you know Big Geordie Robb, Hamish.

He's probably shacked up
with some tart somewhere.

We need him here.

I'm all but useless with my leg.

Lucy can barely move, and
Whiskey Bob, well he's a good man

when he's sober, Hamish.

But, that's a rarer
sight than Haley's Comet.

- Aye, listen Alice, would you mind

if I stepped across and had
a word with the McCraes?

- Not at all, you get on with it.

- Half a hundred weight of salt

and nothing else was touched?

- You must be baffled,
Hamish my boy, baffled?

- He'll not be baffled for long

if I know Hamish Macbeth.

He'll have the pair of
the rascals banged up

before you can say peas.

- The pair of them?

Now what makes you think
there was two, Lachie?

- Is it no wonder that
I'm proud of that boy.

Now that's nimble thinking.

To deduce that it must've
taken more than one man

to shift all that salt.

That is quick thinking.

- Yeah there could've been three Lachlan,

maybe even four.

- Now I think you're just
nitpicking now, Hamish.

He just made an observation.

You don't expect him to
solve the whole case, do you?

- You're probably right.

If you two hear anything,
you'll let me know though?

No problem Hamish.

- Straightaway Hamish.

- That's right dandy footwear
you're wearing there,

Lachlan.

- Do you like them?

Yes, Big Geordi Robb, he
got himself a new pair,

so his wife Lucy tossed
these over to yours truly.

Yes, it's good quality leather that.

- How was your patient?

- She was telling lies.

- How is it?

- Salty.

Right, start dumping them in.

Mind your fingers though.

- So how long is she
home for then, Alexandra?

- Just a holiday, doc.

- Yowser!

Have you read her book?

I mean it's not gonna make
her a millionaire or anything.

Too full of big ideas
and big words for that,

but it's good.

Always excepting of course that you credit

the short story with being
a valid literary form,

and then there's the
hole post structuralist

debate about the value
of literature per say.

What is the function of the writer?

What is the function of the text?

Are the two interrelated
or in fact do they stand

separately, divorced as it were?

Or indeed to take it further
as the post modernists have?

- Macbeth?

Hamish?

- What is it?

God John, what time is it?

It's just after six.

Have you had anything to eat?

- No.

- Elbows.

Well?

- Lovely.

- Well it's just a wee crab
consume I boiled up at home.

- God I'm thirsty.

- So I see.

Young Doc Brown's been here I take it.

- Aye.

Anybody call around when I was sleeping?

- No.

No calls.

- So I'm saying, "Look Julien,
we can cooperate on this,"

thank you dear, "Or we can be rivals."

- Constable Macbeth, sir.

Thank you, Malkey.

Hamish, some hospitality, please.

- No, I'm fine thanks.

I'm afraid there's been a burglary

at the general store, major.

A half hundred weight of salt was taken.

- Salt?

Well, well, well, well who
would've thought that hey?

- Yes sir.

So I'm just warning everyone just in case

the thieves try and pass on the goods.

I'd appreciate it if you'd
warn your kitchen staff.

- So constable, you're hot on
the trail of a salt seller?

Peter.

- No, your friend is just favoring us

with some metropolitan whit, Alex.

Wasn't that witty, Hamish?

- Effervescent, major!

Did you get my ticket, Mr. Peterson.

Yes, I've had the repair done.

- I told Peter the car
was probably damaged

by some envious adolescent.

- Well envious and
persistent it would seem.

- What do you mean?

- Well he's went and
smashed the other light.

Happen to notice it on the way in.

Evening Major.

Here take it.

- I can't believe it!

How much have we made?

- Plenty, and we'll make plenty more

when we get over to Nothum.

There's a whole untapped
market over there, boy.

Right.

Take us over the Devil's Humpf.

You'll save half an hour then.

- The Devil's Humpf?

Nobody drives over there.

You can barely get three
sheep walking abreast

on that road.

- Look I want time for
a pint at the conclusion

of business.

You know me, boy.

- Talk about the wages of fear.

This is murder.

- Don't talk rubbish, man.

Hey stop the car!

- What is it?

- Just stop the damn car!

- What is it?

That's Big Geordie Robb's car.

- Aye, I know.

Where's Big Geordie.

- Reverse back to Lochdubh,
Lachie, and get Hamish.

Just do it, boy!

Morning sir.

- Who are you?

I'm Macbeth, sir, local man.

- You don't sound local.

- Well the folks moved to
Glasgow when I was very young,

joined the force and
eventually moved back here.

- Couldn't resist the call?

I'm Detective Inspector Bruce, and this is

DS Sandra Macdonald.

- What do we know, constable?

- Well the car belonged
to a Mr. George Robb.

He left home on a golfing
trip about a week ago,

stopped off at a Lochdubh
hotel, and that's

the last time he was seen.

- And nobody recorded him missing?

- Well Big Geordie, Mr. Robb,

he was the wayward type, you know?

Frequently disappeared.

- A married man?

Aye.

- And, when he disappeared,
it was with women?

Maybe other people's women?

- Absolutely sir.

- So he had enemies then?

- Well he wasn't a popular man, no.

Of course it could be that
he injured himself here

and wandered off.

I really don't have the resources

to mount a proper search.

No,
you did the right thing

calling us, constable.

Signs of
blood in the back, sir.

- Well maybe I should say, sir,

that Mr. Robb and his
family own the Lochdubh

Fish and Game Company.

See this car was often used
to carry carcasses of meat.

- You mean it could be
days before we establish

if there's human blood in there?

So I don't know if I'm
dealing with foul play

or a missing person.

Well we better assume he's missing

and start looking for him.

The usual appeals on the
media with description

and photograph.

Aye, you better put in
a request for more men.

- I have arranged for you
to meet a few of the locals

in the Lochdubh hotel,
sir, some of the ones

that last seen Mr. Robb.

- That was very efficient
of you, constable.

- Thank you.

See I also noticed that the car clock

is stopped at 2:20.

Assuming it was working
prior to the crash,

then we know the exact
time of whatever happened.

- Very efficient.

- Listen here now.

Now the big boys from
Inverness are coming.

Hamish is not taking the piss,

and no dumb country yokel acts, right?

- What's that smell?

Smells like bald fish or something.

- Bet it's a staple diet around here, sir.

So what's your name?

- TV John McIver, sir.

- TV what's that, Thomas
Victor or something?

- No, TV's short for television, sir.

I was the first man in Lockdubh
to have a set, you see.

A wee 14 inch pie it
was, so naturally enough

the name stuck.

- Aye, I remember when you managed to get

your aerial up, John.

It just seems like yesterday.

That's Whiskey Bob.

- Well there's no mystery
about that name, is there?

Whiskey, Whiskey?

- I want whiskey.

- Whiskey for whiskey.

Here, stick one of these in it.

Well TV John,

what can you tell me about Mr. Robb.

- Well it's just as Barney said.

Big Geordie gave young
Jimmy there a smack,

and then he left the hotel.

Then when I went out to the carpark

to get a wee message, I saw Big Geordie

doing something at his car.

- Doing what?

- Well he seemed to be
looking for something,

and he was angry at not finding it.

Then he drove off.

Well that was it.

- And you're sure about Robb's clothes,

a blue woolen diamond
jumper and a lemon shirt?

- Positive.

I mean who else but a golfer
would dress like that?

- Everybody's agreed that Robb left

for Inverness at 9:30.

It couldn't have taken five hours

to drive to the crash site, could it?

- Half hour at most, sir.

Must've left here, then
went somewhere else first.

Maybe took a shortcut over the Humpf

to make up for lost time.

- Aye, but where?

She's pretty young
for a DS, Miss Macdonald.

- Young?

That's as old as the hills, son.

She's just oozing with ambition.

Mark my words that's
not long of Inverness.

No sir, it'll be the bright lights

of Perth and Dundee for
Miss Sandra Macdonald.

So what are you up to then?

- Investigating a burglary, sir.

- Aye well on you go, we'll
complete the search here.

Though you could check
the young lad's alibi,

Jimmy Suitor is it?

Just in case Mr. Robb turns up dead.

- Hamish man, I tried to call you earlier.

Look at this.

It's the strangest thing.

It was shoved through my letter box.

Read it.

And, have a look at the PS.

- Dad, dad!

- It's not a bad afternoon now, Hamish?

- Not a bad afternoon
my ass, you're nicked

the pair of you.

- What are you talking about, boy?

- Here's the cash for the salt we took.

We're sorry we were inconvenient to you,

but we had a wee cashflow problem.

PS if you need a new backdoor,

see Dan Macdonald over at Nothum.

He'll do you a big, thick
door for 52 pound 50

plus VAT.

That Dan Macdonald made
one door at that price

in the last three years, and guess what.

That's right, he made it for you two.

Lachlan McCrae Jr. I'm arresting you

under section two--

- Hamish, why don't we talk about this?

- Well you can give me the full story

and the judge might, and
I say might just look

favorably on that.

- Certainly.

We'll cough the lot, boy.

Come on.

- You come here.

- Lobsters.

See we had to change their water you see.

So we had to have the salt.

- I take it these are stolen as well.

Yes.

- Well no, not exactly no.

We were asked to dump them
by the Fish and Game Company.

Whiskey Bob gave them the wrong feed.

Something about EEC regulations.

- They looked perfectly alright to me,

so we set up shop.

Saw a little niche in the market.

- Who bought them?

- Just about everybody
in Lockdubh, Nothum.

- You may have poisoned the whole region.

No, we've been
eating them ourselves, Hamish.

- No, what about long term effects?

Have you thought about that?

I mean in six months time, we could have

women with whiskers, men with breats.

- Breasts?

- Breasts!

- You never said we'd grow breasts.

I'm still a young man.

- Whatever happens you might
not mind asking for tights!

- So what's our next move Hamish?

- Say nothing just now.

We could have a mass
panic on our hands here.

Maybe even a lynch mob.

I'll be sending these to Inverness

for analysis.

- Well, well Mr. Peterson.

I thought you'd never get here.

- Outside, or do you intend hiding

behind that uniform.

- What uniform?

- Look I don't know who you are,

or what this is all about, but
you're making a mistake, sir.

- A mistake?

He's making the mistake.

I was a boxing blue at university.

- A boxing blue?

Well my, my, tremble, tremble.

- Out.

Mr. McIver,
how are you if I may ask?

- Of course you may.

I'm perfectly fine, major.

And, your goodself?

- Oh You know.

- Isn't that my house guest?

He's not dead, is he?

- No, no, he was bobbing when
he should've been weaving.

Is there somewhere I could park him?

- You could put him there if you like.

- What happened?

It was Macbeth.

It was Macbeth, wasn't it?

- Hello.

- Thought you'd might
like to know how Peter is.

I had Dr. Brown take a look at him,

and there's no lasting damage.

He started it.

- Do you have any idea
what you sound like?

A bloody nine year old
on a school playground.

You provoked him.

You've been provoking him--

- I provoked him.

Which way, I'm only here.

He came for me.

And, what about him parading
up and down the street

as if he owned you?

- Don't talk about me
as if I was some prize

to be fought for!

Don't.

God, what did I ever see
in you, bloody neanderthal?

- Maybe that was it.

Just a bit of rough to
tell your pals about

between the soup and the main course,

is that what it was?

- You believe I heard that!

How could you say that?

- I don't know.

What am I supposed to think?

One minute we're perfectly happy,

and the next minute, you're off.

- I have to earn a living.

I explained to--

- That's crap, I make a living.

I could support you.

Just till you make your mark.

- And, if I never make my mark?

- Alex, this is a good place, good people.

What more could you want?

You don't want the city.

Don't tell me you want the city.

Those places just grind you down.

Just chew you up and spit you out.

- But if we were together, we could--

- Alex, you're not listening to me,

I cannot go back to that.

I'm happy here.

I could never leave.

What would I be?

Look you're just angry at me
for what I did to your pub.

You tell me you don't care
for me, and I swear to God

I'll never bother you ever again.

You tell me that.

Can you tell me that?

What?

I'm sorry.

I am sorry.

I'm sorry!

- Did I miss something off the list?

- No.

I was just wondering
why there was no shoes,

no golf shoes.

- Do you think that's why
he was killed for his shoes?

- Look Bruce has got us combing the hills

for a missing person.

It's a complete waste of time.

There's a killer out there,
and I'd like to catch him.

You could make the job so much easier.

Oh really?

- Sure, with your local knowledge.

I think we should work
together on this, Hamish.

- Oh do you, Sandra?

Well I must say I'm flattered,

and I'm sure there's a
lot you can teach me.

- Hamish?

Man, that's cheap scent.

Who was she?

- Macdonald.

What was wrong with your bed?

- Didn't have the hear
to disturb wee Jock.

What's that?

- I don't know it was in
the machine when I came in.

Now why would a detective
sergeant lie down

with a police constable I wonder, Hamish?

- I thought I might need somebody

to dump the credit if my
guess was proved right.

If I go around starting to
solve murders the powers

that be might think
I've outgrown Lochdubh,

and that Bruce is gonna
have me on the next train

back to Glasgow.

- Murders, what are you talking about?

- I want you to find Macdonald, John.

Make sure she sees that, okay?

Alice?

- Hello Hamish.

- I was wondering if I might
have a look in Geordi's

wardrobe.

Why do you suppose he
never took them, Alice?

I mean he's not likely to
have forgotten his new shoes

is he?

- It was Lucy who packed for him.

She always packed for him.

She must've forgot.

- Lucy, aye well that explains it.

It was just nagging at me, you know?

- Aye.

- Ah Jock, why can't people
live like we dogs, hey?

Simple, uncomplicated.

- What's wrong?

What's going on here?

- I'm detaining you under Section Two

of the Criminal Justice
Act of Scotland of 1980

because I suspect you have committed

an offense punishable by imprisonment

namely murder.

- We'll be speaking to Alice as well Bob.

- No, I'm the man you're looking for.

I killed Geordi Robb.

He come back that night
and started on Lucy.

I could not stand by and watch that.

I killed him.

- Hamish, Alice has something to say.

- I killed my son, not Bob.

- Alice.

- Forgot his golf shoes
and came back for them.

He was in a right black mood,

and as usual, took it out on Lucy

just as his father had done with me.

He said Lucy should've checked his bag

before he left.

I thought he would surely
kill her this time.

- Alice come on.

- I told you.

- But, when he fell, he hit the forklift.

I asked Bob to go to the car,

but that's all he did.

Bob and Lucy are innocent.

I'm the one.

I gave that boy life, and I took it away.

He was such a big, lumpy man.

How did you find out, Hamish?

The McCraes did
not dump the lobsters, Alice.

They've been selling them
all over the district.

I thought they may have been poisoned,

so I took a couple for analysis.

They found bits of blue
and lemon wool in the guts.

- That's what Robb was wearing
the night he disappeared.

I saw the fax when it came through,

so I made the connection.

- Do you mean people have
been eating Big Geordi?

- Seems like it.

- It's a wonder they did not choke.

- Well done, Macdonald.

This'll be your ticket out of Inverness.

- Thank you sir.

Well what can I say?

- What do you think'll happen to her.

- Probation most probably.

If it was up to me, I'd
let her go right now.

Goodbye, constable.

- You never know you may
be back this way someday.

What's all this?

- They're buying laxatives.

That Rory Campbell's making a fortune.

- Laxatives, for what?

- Well to get rid of the
lobsters and Big Geordie.

- Serves 'em right.

- Hamish?

- Aye?

- Do you remember that
crab consume I gave you?

- Aye.