All language subtitles for Remington Steele s05e05 Steeled With A Kiss Part 1.eng

- Nothing happened between Tony and me.
- I assure you...

whatever happened between Shannon and me
was over a long time ago.

I want you to deliver
a package for me.

- Steele agreed.
- If this doesn't work...

I doubt that you'll have
a friend left in the department.

You used me. You only got
close to me to get to him!

I didn't have to get close
to you to get to him.

- I just got close to you.
- My calling card?

- All you have to do is deliver it.
- Archaeology? Immigration?

Now espionage?
You're a multifaceted fellow.

- And if Helmsley doesn't buy this?
- He'll kill you.

- What do you want with my husband?
- I'm here to inform him...

that he's just inherited �1 million.

The earl didn't leave you cash.

- What exactly did he leave?
- A castle. In Ireland.

Why did Helmsley try to kill me?

Obviously your little act
was very unconvincing.

- Somebody tipped him off!
- We're looking for a murderer.

Help me.

Didn't the wire say
someone would meet us?

Well, perhaps they weren't
expecting such a large group.

- I'll get the bags.
- I'll keep an eye on him.

Thank you, Mildred. Don't you
find it the least bit uncomfortable...

having a murderer along
on our honeymoon?

He told us he was set up. I'm sure he'll
give us the full details in due time.

The only details he's given us
for the last four hours...

concerns his career
in minor league baseball.

- Patience is a virtue, Mr. Steele.
- Isn't it just?

- Any sign of our ride?
- Not yet.

- Some royal treatment.
- Excuse me.

- Could you give us directions to Glencree?
- Glencree, is it?

Youse must be after
a spot of trout fishin'.

Uh, no, no, no.
We're trying to get to Ashford Castle.

Ashford Castle?
That's a wee bit north of Glencree.

- Not by way of Glencary.
- Did somebody say Glencary?

We're trying to get
to Glencree.

Ah, you must be after a bit
of trout fishin' then.

No, no, no. We need the directions
to Ashford Castle.

- That's a wee bit north of Glencree.
- We know that.

Glencree is a wee bit east
of Glencaron.

- How do you get to Glencaron?
- Do you see that road over there?

Well, uh,
don't be takin' it.

Glencree. This way.

Mikeline O'Flynn,
majordomo...

head factotum,
chief of staff-

at your service,
Your Lordship.

Terence O'Reilly-
principal chauffeur...

assistant mechanic,
associate senior transportation captain.

A great pleasure it is, sir,
to meet your American Lordship.

It's a pleasure to be met, my good man.
A pleasure indeed. Yes.

You and Mildred could learn a thing or two
from these people, you know that?

- This way, Your Lordship.
- Thank you. Thank you.

Ah, thank you.

This way, Your Lordship.

The new lord and master
has arrived.

Thank you. Thank you.

I think I've found
my true calling, Laura.

- Just don't expect me to call you Your Lordship.
- No, certainly not.

We'll save the pet names
for the bedroom, eh?

Oh!

Your Lordship must be tired
after his long journey.

Would you like me to show you
to your chambers?

Excellent idea,
Mikeline.

Show the other guests
to the east wing.

- We have our own wing?
- This way, Your Lordship.

Laura.

The master bedroom.

- Very nice.
- Yes, very nice indeed.

- It's a bit chilly in here.
- I'll look after it right away.

- Is there anything else you need?
- No, not at the moment.

Thank you very much.
There you go.

You'll be sure to let me know
if there is now, won't you?

Oh, you have my solemn oath.
You have my solemn oath. There you go.

You know, Laura, this place
is beginning to grow on me.

I don't think we should
be so anxious to sell.

I mean, after all,
a man's castle is his home.

It does have
a definite romantic charm.

Yes, it does, doesn't it?
Speaking of romantic charm...

if my memory serves me well, we still have
some unfinished business to attend to.

Oh. Oh.

And what would you be hankerin' after,
you swift-talkin' American?

A magical moment
captured in a worthy setting.

Don't lose the mood.

Oh, Liam O'Malley,
Your Lordship...

the senior steam engineer.

- Steam engineer?
- Well, it sounds a little bit grander than furnace man.

Mikeline O'Flynn was tellin' me
it's heat you'd be needin'.

- Yes, it is a little bit nippy in here.
- I'd be glad...

to stoke up the furnace,
Your Lordship...

if you'd just attend to
this little heating bill.

Huh? Oh, yes.
Absolutely.

�98,000?

Well, there's a lot of rooms
in the castle, Your Lordship.

Yes, well, I'm sure there are,
my good man.

- Here you go. There you go.
- Fifty p.

Yes, consider it a down payment.

There you go.
There you go.

- Trouble in the boiler room?
- Yes, well, I've always liked a brisk castle.

I suppose we could
generate our own heat.

Yes, where were we now?

That's where we were.

Ryan O'Casey, chief butler,
supervising steward, senior chamberlain.

- Congratulations.
- The chef has prepared...

a small repast which awaits Your Lordship's
pleasure in the main dining room.

What the hell.
Let's eat.

- Look what I found in the library.
- What's that?

A book on your castle. This place goes
all the way back to the 12th century.

Is that so?
It gives one pause, doesn't it, eh?

To be an immortal part
of history.

Are you ready to be served,
Your Lordship?

Always ready, Mikeline.
Always ready.

- He said a small repast.
- Must be the appetizer.

I'll see to this.

�87,000 for groceries?

- Lot of stomachs in a castle.
- Why do I get the distinct impression...

that no one's paid a bill around here
for the last 50 years?

Fifty-nine, to be exact.

Tell me this, Mikeline.
If no one's been paid...

for the last 59 years,
why do they stay?

Well, the way we
look at it, sir...

havin' a job
that doesn't pay...

is better than havin'
no job at all.

Yeah. Yeah. Well, that's a-

That's an interesting perspective.

Well, shall we take a tour of the grounds?

- When do we chow down, boss?
- We just did.

A boiled potato?

Nouvelle cuisine. Speciality of the castle.
Mustn't overload the palate.

- Shall we?
- Would you get my sweater, dear?

I left it in the room.
It's under my pink teddy.

Hmm?

Anything for my new bride.

I'm stuffed.
Excuse me.

Most guests prefer
the front door, Mr. Chalmers.

- Linda, what a pleasant surprise.
- It's still Laura.

And what are you doing out here
lurking about?

It's my job to lurk.
Have you forgotten...

I'm chief of security
for the earl of Claridge?

God rest his soul.
When I learned...

the new lord was arriving,
I jetted in post haste.

And you have absolutely no idea
who the new lord is.

I'm sure I'll meet him
soon enough.

The only reason you ever turn up
is to recruit Mr. Steele...

for one of
your hair-brained schemes.

How is Harry these days?

You can forget
the black lung bit.

The sympathy ploy's been tried,
and it doesn't work.

- He's mine now.
- What hold could you possibly have on Harry?

- We're married.
- Really?

For better...
or for worse?

Guess you were pretty sure
you'd seen the last of me, huh?

I must admit I never expected the pleasure
of your company here in Ireland.

Yeah, well, just how far did you go to see
that I wouldn't be around?

There's a nuance here
that escapes me.

Funny thing Helmsley didn't shoot at you.
He shot at me.

You were the master spy.
I was just the messenger boy.

Yeah, but if he found out
he was being set up...

he should have
come after the both of us.

- The luck of the Irish.
- You didn't let anything slip, did you?

- Not that I'm aware of.
- Then how'd he figure out I was onto him?

Intelligence can be
a leaky business at best.

Maybe.
But I'll make you a promise.

If I find out you fingered me,
I'm gonna have to kill you.

Bridgit O'Leary, Your Lordship,
senior domestic coordinator.

Oh. Nice to meet you,
Bridgit.

- Uh, where's my wife?
- Her Ladyship went outside.

- In a hurry she was.
- I see. Thank you.

Before you be rushin' off,
there's a wee matter...

that calls for
your immediate attention.

- �27,000 for polish?
- Lots of silver in a castle.

Try stainless.

The cupboards are bare, chief. What gives?

Cash flow crisis, Mildred.
Listen, tell me this.

How's the real estate market
in castles these days?

Lousy. This joint's
been on the market since 1532.

Mm-hmm. Perhaps it's time
to change brokers, eh?

- Here you go, Mrs. Steele.
- Sean O'Gleeson, Your Lordship...

senior landscape architect.

Have you stopped
to smell the roses lately?

Oh, yes.
A familiar scent indeed.

Uh- Uh-

Well, come along, Mrs. Steele.
Let's not keep the man from his bush.

Now, about
our uninvited guest.

What's the latest crackpot
campaign he's come up with?

The latest is that he
intends to kill me.

Kill you?
Who are you talking about?

- Tony. Who are you talking about?
- Harry.!

Daniel! What brings you
to Ashford Castle?

You do, my boy.
I'm your chief of security.

Oh, yes, of course.
Lots of locks in a castle.

Might I, uh, suggest a tour
of your holdings?

Yeah. Oh, yes, of course.
That's-That's a splendid idea, Daniel.

Um, shall we, Mrs. Steele?

I'll leave you two
to your holdings.

- Don't be long, dear.
- No.

She's, uh- She's turned into
quite a girl, hasn't she, Daniel?

Mmm. They always do
until they get what they want.

- Shall we?
- Mmm.

I understand you've done some settling
down since our paths last crossed.

- Mm-hmm.
- I didn't think you were the marrying kind.

Wedlock has
distinct advantages.

Indeed. I must say I
never could understand...

- your attraction to Linda.
- Laura.

Mmm. Laura, Linda. There've been
so many, it's hard to keep track.

- Remember the contessa?
- Oh, yes.

- The one with the birthmark.
- There. You see?

So many. A shame to tie
yourself down to one.

Oh, Daniel, Daniel, you've always been
such an incurable romantic.

Now, listen, tell me.
About this security job.

Is it on the up-and-up,
or are you intending to, uh...

relieve the castle
of all its treasures?

Oh, it's the straight
and narrow for me, Harry.

Living on the edge can become
a bit trying as a steady diet.

Mmm. Who would have
thought it, eh?

The two of us making an honest
go of it after all these years.

Neither of us is getting
any younger, my boy.

Tell me, if you had to do it all again,
would you change anything?

A few things here and there.

This way, Harry.

Oh! And a good mornin'
to ya, Your Lordship.

Mary Kate O'Danaher
at your service.

Oh, the floor's wet.
We'll come back later.

Oh, no problem, sir.
I don't mind cleanin'up after ya.

You need to save your strength
for the long walk home.

Oh, doesn't she live
in the castle then?

No, she's temporary.
Just, uh, passing through.

Oh, I'll be around
for a while, sir.

There's a lot of work
left undone.

Back from the tour so soon,
you eager beaver?

- Tony?
- If I say yes, would we have to stop?

Mmm!

Let go of me!

Now-

- What have you been doing?
- I'll explain later.

You'll explain now!

I'm looking at 50 to life,
unless I can prove I'm not a traitor.

What makes you think
you can find proof here?

I don't believe this. We take you in,
hide you from the police...

protect you from a murder rap
we know nothing about...

and now I find you tearing our room apart
like a petty thief?

After Steele gave Helmsley
the documents, what happened?

- Why do you want to know?
- I'm trying to save my neck!

We went to the police station.

- After that.
- We came back to the hotel...

packed, caught the train
for the night boat to Dublin.

- You know the rest.
- Did he make any calls?

- No.
- Did he ever leave your side?

- No!
- You mean to tell me he never even went to the bathroom?

Iron kidneys.
Now, what's this all about?

Your husband sold me out
to Helmsley.

- Why would he do that?
- Ask him.

Laura?

Why don't we both
ask him?

Do you really want him
to find us in here, together?

Laura, why is the door locked?

Coming!
Come on. Come on.

Coming! Mmm!

Laura, what took you
so long?

- Good Lord, what a mess.
- Just doing a little unpacking, dear.

Ro- Rolling around the royal bedspread,
Your Ladyship?

- It isn't what you think.
- No need to look so guilty, Laura.

Your honeymoon high jinks
pale in comparison to this.

Good Lord.

How did you find me?

You didn't think I'd give up just because...

you got an attack of wanderlust,
did you?

I was rather hoping
you would.

I have a job to do.

Well, as I told you,
I'd really like to help you...

but something's come up
that demands my full attention.

Fine. Just return
the �25,000 I advanced you...

and we'll forget
about our bargain.

- I'm afraid that won't be possible.
- No 25,000?

- No, flown the coop.
- Quaint way of putting it.

The name of a horse actually.
Unlucky nag.

Cheer up, Daniel.

Look what dropped into our lap.

All we have to do is trade
Mr. Roselli for what we need.

And I know just who
to trade him to.

Oh, blast.

- Oh. Uh-
- The chief electrician asked me to pass this along.

Chief electrician.

�96,000 of electricity?

Lots of lights in a castle,
Your Lordship.

Remind me to look into
solar energy.

No, no. No, you've been
a big help. Thanks.

- Mildred, Mildred, please, the room's ablaze.
- But it's getting dark.

Break out the candles.
Have you seen Anthony?

He knows better than
to get into my line of fire.

- Good thought. Fire.
- What?

Should the castle go up in flames,
accidentally of course...

how much could we claim
on the insurance?

Sorry, boss. They tried that in 1856.

- And?
- And it's stone walls, three-feet thick.

There's no way you're gonna
burn this baby down.

Oh, blast.
Ah, well. Okay.

Oh, from now on, all phone calls
are collect, Mildred.

Heed me.
All phone calls are collect.

Terence, my good man, might you know
the whereabouts of my American friend?

- He was needin' a ride to the village.
- I'll be needin' the same ride.

- But first, your bill.
- Ah!

- Saints be praised for your American Lordship.
- Mm-hmm.

Thank you.

- Mildred, what are you doing?
- The boss likes a dark castle.

- Where is he?
- He left with the chauffeur.

- Any idea where he was headed?
- Beats me.

Oh, but do I have some news
about Daniel Chalmers.

You know that line about chief of security?

It's as phony as
a four-leaf shamrock.

According to the executor
of the earl's estate...

Chalmers turned the job down.

Chalmers?

- Keep a light in the window, Mildred.
- Will you settle for a candle?

Great sound.

They rehearsing
for some kind of a show?

No, just regular folk.

Farmers, tradesmen, the like.

- Then why are they singing?
- They're Irish.

- Hello?
- Tony!

- Good to hear your voice again.
- What the hell are you so chipper about?

My face is plastered
all over the Irish papers.

Well, newspapers do tend
to somewhat run...

behind current events,
especially in our business.

Don't give me a lecture on journalism.
You said you'd clean things up!

Well, as a man of my word,
I have done just that.

We've located the documents.

Helmsley had them
all neatly boxed...

waiting to be delivered
to his Russian contact.

Well-Well, then what am I
doing hiding here in the bogs?

It's safe for you to come home.
Mother forgives you.

Well, that's swell, Mom. Now,
just how do I get out of here?

- Where are you?
- Where am I?

- O'Flanagan's Pub.
- I mean, what city?

Well, it's not exactly a city.

I suppose you could call it
a town.

But not a town
by your standards.

- Well, I guess you'd call it a-
- What's the name of it?

Glencree, of course!

I'm in someplace
called Glencree.

That's good, Tony.
That's fine.

There's a house we used on
an occasion not far from there.

Um, I'll need a few hours
to arrange things.

Look, you give me
your telephone number...

and I'll ring you back as soon
as everything is in order.

The number is 86429.

Tony, although I'm generally
known as a most forgiving man...

don't do anything precipitous.

Because I promise you,
old dear...

if you do, you will be returning
to London in a box.

You!
Where are you going?

We're here to see Secretary Kemadov
about the serving arrangements for tonight.

Secretary Kemadov
is a busy man.

Too busy to waste his time
with that.

That's all right,
Nikolai.

Please.

So, you are here
to make arrangements.

In a manner of speaking.

On the telephone,
you said something about a package.

- Interested?
- Double agents are always valuable.

- I cannot accept damaged goods.
- He'll be alive.

Are you good Marxists...

or do you have a more
capitalist reward in mind?

Two years ago, an American businessman
named Robert Peters...

was arrested for smuggling political
refugees through the Iron Curtain.

I want to know where he is,
assuming he's still alive.

Why this interest in
a common political prisoner?

He's the young lady's father.

Of course, you realize I'm merely
first secretary for Cultural Affairs.

And we are merely domestics.

Officially, I know nothing
about this Robert Peters.

- And unofficially?
- I'll see what I can find out.

Let go!

Well, well.
What a coincidence.

You know this woman?

- Tell him who I am!
- Where's your identification?

- My what?
- Pick up a badge at the front desk...

and get back to the kitchen
where you belong.

- W-Wait a minute!
- Take her to the kitchen.

You can't keep me
in the kitchen forever.

Good help
is so hard to come by.

We have the same problem
in my country.

I think I'll take a walk
around your lovely village.

Stopping by to have a drop of vodka
with your Bolshevik buddies?

Everything's all straightened
out now, okay?

Not as far as
I'm concerned, mate.

Laura trusted you, and you used her
for your own traitorous means.

I used her? You used her
to keep from being deported.

Where I come from,
that's one step lower than a pimp.

Come on.

- A fiver on the lad in gray.!
- You're covered, me boyo!

- How are the odds?
- Even money, me boyo! Even money!

Back off! Back off!

Go on. Break it up, fellas.
Break it up.

Break it up.
Ah, well, now.

I think we found
our Russian bear.

That house-

the one with the red door.

The people in that house
can explain everything.

I promise.
Go ahead, ask 'em!

This better not be a trick.

Given our past differences,
Anthony...

I suggest a strategic
retreat is in order.

Why the hell can't you
just say... run?

Well, Anthony, what do you think
of Ireland so far?

- I think I owe you an apology.
- Accepted.

Now you know I didn't set you up.
Any ideas who did?

The guy that sent me
to that house- Fitch.

Huh. It appears you've dug up two moles
for the price of one.

Yeah, only nobody's gonna
take my word against his.

- High up in British Intelligence, is he?
- Top rung.

Oh.

Ironic.
Only you, me and-

- And what?
- And the Russians know you're innocent.

- Kemadov.
- Obviously not an Irishman.

A spy as high up as Fitch would
only contact one man- Kemadov.

Yeah.

How might we find,
uh, Comrade Kemadov?

Soviet Embassy in Dublin.

If I can get him to point
the finger at Fitch...

I might get out of this
with my skin.

Hey, easy, easy now, bucko.

Seeing as your face is familiar
as Paddy's pig...

don't you think it might be wiser
if I get a lay of the land?

You're saying you're
gonna help me?

Seeing as I'm already on the hook
for harboring a fugitive...

I don't see what difference it's gonna make
kidnapping a K.G.B. Agent.

Look, uh, that crack I made about you
being lower than a pimp?

- I was outta line.
- Yes, you were.

All right. Stay out of sight until
I get back from Dublin.

Lock the door.

- Safe and sound.
- Ah-

- Ah.
- Excuse me, Your Lordship.

- Yes?
- There's a policeman downstairs...

- who'd like to ask you some questions.
- Ah.

- Will I show him in?
- Uh, no, no, no.

Just, uh, give me five minutes,
then show him into the study downstairs.

- All right, sir.
- Yeah.

Love your hydrangeas.
Really.

Detective Inspector O'Brien,
Your Lordship.

Thank you, Mikeline. Thank you.

Come in, Inspector.
Good day to you, sir.

Sean O'Casey.
Shadow of a Gunman.

Always leaves me breathless
Oh. Ah, yeah.

And, uh, what brings you
to Ashford Castle, Inspector?

Well, uh, have you seen
this man, sir?

Mmm. Oh, yeah.
Beady eyes. Yes.

Ah, look at that.
Dishonest scowl.

Obviously a hardened criminal.

- Well, he's wanted for espionage.
- Is he?

And my men think they saw him
headin' for your castle.

Uh-huh. Well, we'll keep a weather eye
out for him, Inspector.

And I'll tell you this, if we get wind
of any Communists up here...

you shall be the first to hear
about it, Inspector, okay?

- Thank you.
- Nice to meet you. Glorious day, isn't it?

Lovely. Thanks again.
You've been most cooperative.

There you go now.
Bye-bye, Inspector.

- Good-bye, sir.
- Bye-bye.

Anybody home?

- Mildred, what's the matter?
- Ghosts.

The boss's castle is haunted.
Here.

"Sir Dennis O'Keefe,
slain in the 14th century...

during the battle of O'Mongan...

roams the castle
when the moon is full...

calling for his beloved Margaret Mary. "

Speaking of free spirits,
has Mr. Steele materialized?

He put on his tux and left.

- What about Daniel Chalmers?
- He put on his tux and left too.

Oh, honey,
what about Sir Dennis?

Tell him to put on his tux
and follow the crowd.

Uh, sorry.
I hate to trouble you...

but, uh, I seem to have dropped
a cuff link just around the corner.

- Could I trouble you for a light there?
- Bien s�r. Apr�s vous.

Bonsoir.

- Your package as promised.
- Excellent.

And now, your end of the bargain,
Secretary Kemadov?

We have no bargain
until he talks.

My dear man, he can hardly
say much while he's unconscious.

Then we will have to wait.

That was not part
of the agreement.

How do I know he's worth anything
till we have a chance to chat?

And what are we supposed to do
in the meantime?

Try the caviar.

- Harry!
- Oh, Daniel.

Rubbing elbows
with our Eastern cousins?

I didn't realize you went in for
these diplomatic soirees.

Late invitation.

I thought I'd see
how the other side lives.

You, uh, couldn't point out
Secretary Kemadov, could you?

- He's upstairs.
- Oh.

Oh, where are my manners?

Countess Inga Olafson,
Mr. Remington Steele...

private investigator
par excellence.

It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Steele.

The pleasure's all mine,
I'm sure.

The countess has graciously
called on me to escort her this evening.

Haven't we met before
somewhere, Countess?

Oh, I'm sure I would remember
a face like yours.

That's very kind of you
to say that.

- But I'm sure we've met somewhere.
- I am a woman of many interests.

Mmm.
And many accents.

I was rather partial to
your Irish brogue, I must say.

Didn't I make a convincing scrubwoman?

- Mmm. You made one fatal mistake.
- What was that?

You were the only one who didn't
present me with a bill.

Tell me, Daniel, what are you
doing here, by the way?

- High stakes roulette, my boy.
- Really?

Damned Russian vodka
sticks in the throat.

- Uh-huh.
- Ah, the Belgian attach�.

Come along, my dear.
Catch you later, Harry.

Easy.

- I thought I told you to lay low.
- I did.

Then why didn't you
stay at the castle?

I walked into my room, and the lights went out.

- Now what?
- Bag him.

Do you always make your security rounds
dressed in black tie?

Even the help gets the night off
every now and then.

Why don't we drop the charade?

I know you're not
the chief of security.

- You turned the job down.
- A minor technicality.

You came here because you knew
he'd be here, didn't you?

The night air
catches in the throat.

If you'll excuse me, I really must
turn in before I get a chill.

It's not the Irish air...

and it's not
the Irish damp.

You have more pills in here
than a drugstore.

Leave it to Linda to dig
until she comes up...

with all the morbid
little details.

I know you and I have had
a strained relationship at best.

We've always been vying
for the same object.

Why don't we take off the gloves
and talk truth for a change?

I don't like the truth.

I've spent my whole life
dancing around its edges.

You want the truth?
Here it is.

I'll take fantasy
any day.

- I'm sorry.
- No need.

Harry will finally be yours...

irrevocably.

Even a consummate artist
of deception...

can't outfox the Grim Reaper.

Does that satisfy
your thirst for the truth?

I found something else.

Pretty tune.

- What are you doing with it?
- A meaningless bauble.

It belonged to the Earl of Claridge.
He meant it to go to his son.

But it was stolen
before his son could receive it.

And then it came to Mr. Steele
with a note which said...

"Your father always wanted you to
have this. Signed, Patrick O'Rourke. "

- The thief gave it to O'Rourke.
- To give it to the thief's son?

A father wants to leave some legacy
to his children, no matter how small.

You still haven't told me what this
is doing among your belongings.

I'm afraid I stole it. Again.

You're the thief?

You've uncovered quite
a Pandora's box, Laura.

As difficult as it may be
to believe...

the man you call
Remington Steele is my son.

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