All language subtitles for Pie.in.the.Sky.S01E05.A.Shot.in.the.Dark.AMZN

♫♫

Good morning,
Archie!

Good morning.

Hello?

Lovely day
for running out, gov.

Bet you´re glad of a break
from that kitchen, aren´t you?

Get your teeth into
some real police work.

I like nothing more than
a nice fresh corpse

first thing in the morning,
Pinkney.

Sets me up for the whole day.

Why did Fisher pick me
for this job?

Didn´t say, gov.

Bit of a manpower crisis,
I think.

Just like old times, eh?

You and me.

Oh, slow down, slow down,
slow down.

No, on second thought,
better not.

Drive on.

How is
the cookery trade anyhow?

Slow, Pinkney.
Decidedly slow.

What you need is

a bit of a gimmick
to pull in the punters.

Gaff down my way started
doing these theme burgers.

Theme burgers?

Yeah, you know, like there´s
your Aloha Burger

with pineapple
and grated coconut.

Do people really go out
and eat these things?

Oh, what?!

Then there´s your
Zapata Burger.

That´s with
chili sauce and --

Pinkney!

Yes, gov?

Just concentrate
on the driving, all right?

Anyway, what do you mean
manpower crisis?

What manpower crisis?

Don´t know, gov.
Mr. Fisher didn´t say.

Good morning, sir.

Morning, morning.

Oh, get me the Chief Constable
on the phone, would you?

Yes, sir.

Inspector Crabbe.

Parkes, sir.

Crabbe: Good morning.
So, what have we got?

Looks like a burglary
that got a bit out of hand.

Victim is a Guy Featherstone.

According to the partner --
Bentley --

there´s about 200 quid
missing from the petty cash.

You want to watch your
step here.

It´s crawling
with the little buggers.

They´re the edible sort.

Company flies them to France

for a bloke that breeds them
up at Adenfield.

Name of Rosten.

Rosten?

Rosten.

Rings a bell.

Hello.
Henry.

Um...

Time of death?

Sometime between midnight
and 4 a.m.

Midnight.

What was he doing here?

The main gate´s locked at 10:00
apparently, but he had a key.

Shot at very close range,
I´d say.

Handgun probably,
but that´s just guessing

till I get him down
to the shop

for a proper look.

Is it usual

for a burglar to
go after £200

armed with a handgun?

Well, not to say
usual, exactly.

Man: Hello,
this is Chris Bentley.

I´m afraid there´s no one here
to take your message

at the moment, but please wait
for the tone

and leave a message afterwards,
thank you.

Woman: You can´t go
in there!

Calm down!

I´m sorry, I´m fed up
with waiting.

Mr. Bentley?
Who the hell are you?

Detective Inspector Crabbe,
Bostock CID.

Well, why don´t you
get out there

and do something about
catching this bastard?

What a brilliant idea.

I´m going to get
everybody to do that.

But, first, we have
to find out

which particular
bastard that is.

Um, if you don´t mind.

Thank you.

Yeah.
Woman: The Chief Constable
for you, sir.

Right, put him through.

Man: Good morning, Fisher.

Sir, I just thought
I´d let you know

there´s been an interesting
development out at Thaxford.

Bentley´s partner seems to have
got himself shot.

Crabbe: Tell me about
the business.

What do you do exactly?

Flying is always
the main thing, I suppose.

Some air taxi work,
aerial surveying,

freight charter.

Snails, that sort
of thing?

And machine parts,
computer software,

medical supplies.

As long as the check is good,
we´re not fussy.

Look, I suppose there
is a point to all this.

I´m just trying to
get a picture, Mr. Bentley.

That´s all.

A bit like cooking
without a recipe,

if you see what I mean.

First you got to lay out
all the ingredients,

and then you decide
on a dish.

A bit like that.

Also, I was wondering
if your burglar

might have been looking

for something
in particular last night.

Such as?

Well, I have no idea.

But there must have
been something.

Unless he wanted us
just to think there was.

Bentley:
What are you implying?

I mean, what the hell
are you implying?

Darling,
for heaven´s sake.

Did Mr. Featherstone
phone you last night?

No.
Yes.

He rang about 12:30.

You were asleep,
sweetheart.

He was a bit upset.

A bit drunk, I think.
He´d had a row with Liz.

Liz Wynant, his...

well, girlfriend.

They´ve been together
for quite a while now.

I did try calling her
earlier, sir -- no answer.

Bentley: For God´s sake.

You´re not suggesting Liz
had something to do with this?

I´m not suggesting
anything, Mr. Bentley.

Good.

Well, if you´ve got
the picture now,

I mean, if all your ingredients
are sorted,

only my wife just happens
to have a pupil coming.

If you don´t mind.

Sweetheart,
I can´t possibly --

One of us has to.

Unless you´d rather just
give up altogether.

Do you think that´s what
Guy would have wanted?

Yes, I think we can leave it
there for the moment.

Thank you.

I´ve assigned Crabbe to
the case, as a matter of fact.

Crabbe?

Bit of a maverick,
isn´t he?

Well, he has his faults,

but canteen gossip
isn´t one of them.

I´m rather keen we should keep
this to ourselves pro tem, sir.

Yes, does he know
the background?

No, no, no.
As far as he´s concerned,

it´s a straightforward
murder inquiry.

I thought we´d let him work
the rest out for himself.

Cambridge?

What´s she doing here?

Cambridge!

Hello, sir.

I thought you were
supposed to be on leave.

That´s right,
the only thing is

I always quite
fancied flying, so...

You´re
Mrs. Bentley´s pupil.
That´s right, I´m staying

at the Cock and Rabbit in
the village next to the pub.

You´d approve.

Listen, I wonder,
could we...

I´ll see you later then,
Constable.

I suppose she´s never
exactly been

the fortnight
in Marbella type.

No, I suppose not.

Leonard.

Leonard Rosten.

I wonder what the devil
that man´s up to now.

Who´s that then?

What? Oh, Mr. Fisher,
of course.

No.
Sir, I´m not with you.

Oh, come on, come on.

Right.
Where to, exactly?

Adenfield,

where the snails
come from.

Cambridge: Throttle, carb,

heat, mixture.

Trim.

Good.

You´re obviously a quick
learner, Ms. Cambridge.

Thanks.

What did the inspector want,
by the way?

Inspector?

Oh, is that who that was?

He said something like,
"Rather you than me, madam."

Trying to be funny,
I suppose.

Flaps.
Used for?

Increasing lift and drag

to permit
a slower approach

and improve visibility
on landing.

Very good.

I don´t think
my wife mentioned

what line you´re in.

Ah, no.

Well, it´s a rather closely
guarded secret.

Oh?

Well, it´s not
very glamorous --

pest control.

Pest control.

Well, I´m on the management
side, you understand.

I don´t actually...

No, no,
of course not.

Right.

Let´s see what you
remember about takeoff.

Pinkney: This bloke Rosten,
do you know him?

Crabbe: It´s possible, yes.

Well, who is he
then exactly?

Just drop me off and wait
in the car, Pinkney, would you?

Right, gov.

Thank you!

Ah, good morning.

Ah, Mr. Rosten?

Ah.

Yes, hi.

Oh, can you hang on
a second?

All right, Danny,
I´ll go up to 15K.

Didn´t think
you were going to show.

No, no, no way.
15 tops.

I know you, don´t I?

No, it´s just some guy
from the local rag.

Yes, all right.

Sorry about that,
my broker.

I dabble.
That´s nice.

I definitely know you.

Crabbe.

Detective Sergeant Crabbe.

Except it´s inspector now,
isn´t it?

And I heard you retired.

I see you still keep
yourself informed.

Well, you know how it is,

old habits.

Ha.

I get quite a bit of press
interest actually.

You know, local man sells
escargots to frogs.

Ha.

Yeah, but you used to
be into food.

I remember, didn´t you?

Yeah, come on.

Why don´t I
give you the tour?

Oh, thank you.

Rosten: Helix pomatia,

a grove of them.

Beautiful, don´t you think?

Well, I suppose it´s
a question of opinion really.

Oh, I find them
quite fascinating.

They´re hermaphrodite.
Did you know that?

No.

Must make their sex life
rather confusing.

Yeah.

Come on, back you go.

Oh, sorry.

Would you like me to
pack you up a couple dozen?

No, thank you.

It´s no trouble.

I -- I tried some once.

Tasted rather like
elastic bands

that had been marinated
in garlic butter.

Oh, tinned probably.

These are the real thing.

Totally organic,
high protein --

practically fat-free.

You don´t know
what you´re missing.

Well, if it´s all
the same...

Bye, Ms. Cambridge.

Well done.
Thank you.

She´s very good.

Is she?
Yeah.

Hello, Archie.

Want a lift?

No, thanks.

Rosten: Do you know how
all this stuff started?

Crabbe: No.

When I was away...

Ha ha, if you remember,

they had me working
in the gardens.

Acres of cabbages.

I must have been
slaughtering hundreds

of these little
beauties a day.

Anyway, the food in that
place wasn´t too hot.

And suddenly it struck me.

50 million Frenchmen, right?

So, I went to the library,
read everything they had.

I was hooked.

You´re not telling me
this is a hobby.

You´re asking
do I make money.

With production costs
and freight fees,

I´m pulling in around
1,500 a trip.

You always were good
with figures,

amongst your other talents.

I´m just a businessman now,
believe me.

And you still haven´t
told me why you´re here.

No, well...

Actually, I´m
investigating a murder.

A murder?

My God.

The victim was a man by the name
of Guy Featherstone.

I believe you knew him.

Good God.

You don´t think I had
anything to do with this.

Oh, I really don´t know,
Mr. Rosten.

But suppose you tell me where
you were last night

between midnight and 4 a.m.

Inspector Crabbe´s
telephonic apparatus.

Can I help you?

Crabbe´s elsewhere,
I take it.

Uh, yes, sir.
Sorry, sir.

He´s interviewing
a Mr. Leonard Rosten.

Rosten?
That doesn´t ring any bells.

But Crabbe thinks he´s
connected, does he?

I´m not sure exactly.

A bit more on the cuff.

A bit more what, sir?

Pinkney,
I´m in a meeting.

He´s coming over.
Do you want a word?

No, no, it´s all right,
just...

keep me informed, Pinkney --
And, Pinkney...

Yes, sir.

No need to mention
I called, understood?

Pinkney?!

Yes, sir.
Understood.

Who was that?

Wrong number, sir.

Pinkney: You do know
Rosten then?

Crabbe: I used to, yes.

But he was in rather
a different line

of business in those days.

Well, gov?

Yeah, as well as can be
expected, thank you.

No, gov.

I meant, when are you going to
give me the full SP?

Full SP.

Ooh, speaking
in code now, are we?

Pick me up in a couple
of hours, would you?

I just want to know
what´s going on.

What´s going on?

I´m now proceeding with my
inquiries, Pinkney.

That´s what´s going on.

And you can tell
Mr. Fisher that

next time he calls,
can´t you?

It keeps getting worse.

Not even talking
to each other tonight.

I´m sure it´s
not that bad.

It´s like a morgue after
a major air disaster.

You can hear a pin rust.

It´s just a temporary
fluctuation

in the trend cycle,
isn´t it?

Have you been to
IFT again, Steve?

Well, yeah.

It´s the restaurant code,
Margaret.

He likes to keep up
with the opposition.

Oh, do you have to do
so much of everything?

Aye, got to be ready
for the rush.

Two steak pie, one lamb,
two salmon.

And the lady says she knows
it´s not on the menu,

but could she please have two
lightly poached eggs on toast?

Pie in the Sky.
Oh, Mr. Crabbe, hello.

What have you got on
at the moment?

Oh, a nice little
rubber tubing I found.

Oh, well not to worry.
We´ll manage.

Now, that is the sort
of business to be in.

Whatever happens,

people will always need
rubber tubing.

Oh, yeah, right.

Well, I wouldn´t say
slow, exactly.

Won´t work.

Now you come to mention it,
I´d hate to see it.

Mrs. Crabbe,

your husband says
he´s unavoidably delayed.

Well, give him my love,
and tell him

if this keeps up, we will
be bust within a month.

She says that´s fine, sir.

And you´re not to worry
about a thing.

Oh, hello, sir.

Are you all right?

Oh, it´s...

Pie in the Sky, Cambridge.

Oh, it can´t be that bad,
surely.

Why, I keep
asking myself.

Why have all my customers
deserted me?

Oh, I expect it´s just
a slow patch.

Probably isn´t
a reason.

There´s always a reason,
Cambridge.

Nothing ever happens
without a reason.

That´s the detective´s creed,
isn´t it?

For instance,

why have you suddenly
taken to the air?

Oh, well...

that was
Mr. Fisher´s idea.

I´m supposed to be undercover.

Yes, I gathered that.

Why?

Information received really.

Don´t fence with me,
Constable.

No.

Right.

About two weeks ago,
the uniforms

pulled in a bloke
called Ray Frazer.

Very small time actually --
receiving stolen cars.

But it turns out his
brother Archie

is a flight mechanic
at Thaxford.

And he´s been telling tales
about Bentley Air.

What sort of tales?

Oh, just hints about

a regular delivery
to the continent

and how their fuel consumption
doesn´t match up

with their flight logs.

Well, you get the picture.

So, I´m not here because
of what happened last night.

Oh.

An image of sorts
begins to emerge.

Chiefly the look
on Fisher´s face

when he realized
that Leonard Rosten

was one of Bentley Air´s
clients.

He must have been pretty
special, this Rosten.

Indeed, he was.

At his peak, Rosten
had more couriers

coming through Heathrow
than Thomas Cooks.

But what I don´t understand

is why Mr. Fisher
is being so secretive.

Oh, come on, Cambridge.

Interdepartmental politics
are his speciality.

So, this way,
if anything goes wrong,

he can always put his hand on
what passes for his heart

and say to the drug squad

he didn´t know
anything about it.

So, do you think
there´s a link

between Featherstone´s death
and Leonard Rosten?

We started out with
a former dope smuggler

and a bent air taxi firm.

And now we have a break-in
that isn´t a break-in

and a murder with
no apparent motive.

Is there a connection?

I think it´s
a reasonable assumption.

All we have to do is
prove it.

Hello there.

Evening, Sergeant.

Looking after you,
are they?

Yes, it´s quite
a revelation, in fact.

I didn´t know places
like this still existed.

Oh, we like it.

That was the best
leek and potato soup

I´ve tasted in years.

Thank you.

Oh, the Vichyssoise --
good.

We´re thinking of
branching out

as a matter of fact.

Maybe get one of those
microwave ovens.

Well, don´t.

I beg your pardon?
You let a microwave
through that door,

and before you know where you
are, this place will be infested

with fruit machines,
piped music, and theme burgers.

Now, theme burgers

are vile little bits of
reconstituted meat substitute

slathered in pineapple
and grated coconut.

Then the place will fill up

with every half-witted
adolescent moron

from Bostock CID,

and then you won´t be
able to move

in this place for acne.

Now, it´s your decision,
of course,

but that´s my advice.

Very good, sir.

I´ll say you enjoyed
the soup.

Oh, we tracked down
Ms. Wynant, by the way.

She confirms Mrs. Bentley´s
story as far as it goes.

But I didn´t push for details.

I thought you´d want to
speak to her yourself.

Fine.
Thank you.

Ms. Cambridge.

Parkes: She wants to
watch her step.

How do you mean?

Bit of a lad for the girls,
that one.

Ah.

Hi.
Hello.

Do you want a drink?

Oh, brandy and ginger,
please.

Mind you, so was Featherstone
from what I hear.

He seems to be bearing up
remarkably well

under the circumstances.

Yes, sir.

I thought that.

Thank you, Frankie.

Sir.

Could you excuse me
a minute, please?

Yeah.

Sorry.

Damn!

Pinkney: Do you want me
to come with you?

I´ll manage, thanks.

And don´t go back
to sleep, Pinkney.

I want you to get me
everything you can

on Bentley Air --
company accounts,

bank statements,
that sort of thing.

Any problems, and you´ll
have to go through

Mr. Fisher´s office.

So, here´s your big chance
to impress him, right?

Yes, gov.

Don´t look so miserable,
Pinkney.

If you want to
find out about Rosten,

why don´t you look
him up on the computer?

That is what it´s there for.

Oh, yeah, right.

Never thought of that.

Ms. Wynant?

Yes?

My name is Henry Crabbe.

Oh, yes.

I was just...

No point in putting these
things off, is there?

Hello.

Push off.

Don´t be like that.

I´ve got nothing
to say to you, sweetheart.

What, not even
a message for Ray?

That´s not very brotherly.

All I want to know
is when Bentley

is planning his next
little jaunt to France.

Ask him yourself then.

I´m asking you.

I don´t know nothing.

Oh, come on, you service
the planes, don´t you?

You fuel them up.

Ray will be
so disappointed.

Tough.

Lovely.

You know, he said you
were keen on bikes.

You can show me
the log books sometime.

Hi!

I was looking for you.

Crabbe: I´m sorry.

This must be very difficult.

The thing about Guy,

he was one of those men...

He had a wonderful time
in the RAF.

And everything after that was
a bit of a let-down, you know.

I understand he had something
of a reputation.

You´ve been listening
to village gossip.

He enjoyed the reputation,
but that´s all it was.

The only love of his
life was flying.

What did you argue
about that night?

What do you argue about?

He took my car without
asking me, that´s all.

Do you know what for?

He wouldn´t say.

But it sounds trivial,
I know.

But he´d already written off
his own bloody car.

Drunk, probably.

Was that usual?

Just the last few months.

He never used to drink.

He hated drugs
of any kind.

Then all of a sudden...

Look, you mustn´t read
anything into this.

He had this idea that
the Bentleys where cheating him.

They had some sort of
money-making scheme

they were keeping
quiet about.

Something connected
with the company?

He refused to discuss it
in the end.

He would have talked
to Collin,

I imagine --
his uncle.

They were very close.

He used to be the GP here.
He´s retired now.

Oh, God.
He won´t have heard.

Look, I´m sorry,
I need some air.

Collin fishes, Inspector.

Obsessional about it.

Well, that´s sort of
a family trait, I suppose.

He´s got a holiday cottage
up in Speyside somewhere.

Do you have a number
for him up there?

There isn´t one.
It´s pretty basic.

You can leave a message
with the local post office.

I´ve got their number,
if you like.

Do you think...

I mean, did Guy...

It must have been
very, very quick.

I don´t think he knew
anything about it.

But I thought there
was a burglar,

a struggle.

That´s why I couldn´t
understand,

because...

Go on.

It hardly matters now,
I suppose.

And he wasn´t meant to
have it, you see.

Another keepsake
of the bloody RAF.

But are you saying
he had a gun?

He kept it in his
desk at work.

I want you to think very,
very carefully about this.

Who else knew he had the gun
besides yourself?

Chris, of course and...

My God, do you
think that Chris...

Ms. Wynant --

No, please.
I don´t want to know.

I´ll find you that number,
then you better go.

Not bad, Ms. Cambridge.

Really.

Not bad at all.

Tomorrow.

He wants his plane
fueled up and ready by 2:00.

Hello, I´d like to leave
a message, please,

for Dr. Collin Featherstone.

He´s on a fishing holiday.

Yes, he´ll be in -- yes.

My name is Crabbe --
C-R-A-B-B-E.

Detective Inspector Crabbe.

Woman: Robert Fellows

from the TV news
for you, sir.

Fine!

Come!

What is it, Pinkney?

You asked to see
these, sir --

Bentley Air´s
company accounts.

Man: Hello?
Bob!

How´s life
in media land?

Good, good, good.

Listen, Bob, I think I might
have a story for you.

Can you hold the line
for a minute?

All right.

Let´s see what Crabbe
makes of these.

I was wondering, Bob,

that reporter that
did that piece

on the Building Society
robbery -- Sarah Dacre.

That´s right.

Might she be available
at the moment?

Crabbe: What do
you think then?

Well, they´re not going to be
worrying the real BA

for a while, I´ll put
it like that.

As far as I can see,

it´s only these
cash payments

that are keeping
the thing afloat.

What am I looking at?

Two thousand.
Two thousand, six hundred.

No invoices either,
which is a bit odd.

Oh, yeah, I see it.

On the other hand,

if we´re talking
about drugs,

I would have thought the amounts
would have been higher.

Unless the real money
is going somewhere else,

and this is just
what they need

to keep the official business
ticking over.

You´re really very good
at this, you know.

You ever thought of turning
professional?

Chef?

A bit more of
the old vino rosso?

It needs something,
doesn´t it?

Mmm.

Talking of businesses
ticking over...

Oh, must we?

If it were anyone else,

I would suggest
raising your prices.

Never.

Or cutting down on the cost
of your ingredients.

Margaret, really!

But seeing as
it´s you, Henry,

then my professional advice

would be a nice
little fire.

At least then we´d pick up
on the insurance.

Have we got insurance?

Well, of course.

Well, let´s cut back
on that then.

You´re serious,
aren´t you?

Absolutely.

In my experience,
insurance is nothing more than

criminal incitement
to fraud and murder.

Has Featherstone got any
insurance, by the way?

Pinkney: How´s that, gov?

Would anybody benefit
by his death?

The Bentleys for example.

Well, the company´s got
a mortgage protection scheme

on the aircraft.

What´s that?
If one partner dies,

it covers his share
of the payment.

But it´s not much of a motive.

The survivor is
no better off.

We´ve got a customer -- shall I
tell him to come back later?

Certainly not!

Oh, my God!

It´s Rosten!

Hide the papers, quick.

Ah!

Well, I´ve been asking around
about you, Mr. Crabbe.

When I heard about this place,

I just couldn´t resist.

Yeah.

Now, they just had the basic
40 minutes,

low heat, in a light coquille.

What you do with them now
is up to you.

Steve: Well, they look
all right.

No, no,
you go ahead.

Not about to poison you
in front of witnesses, am I?

Ha ha ha!

Oh, my God!

It´s like...

it´s like ox liver.

Oh, but infinitely
more subtle.

Nice texture.

It´s like...

the finest filet steak.

Linda: Gorgeous.

Crabbe: Dill!

I can taste dill!

They won´t touch the dried
stuff, mind you.

Fussy little buggers.

Gov?

Not now, Pinkney!

Gov, can I have a word?!

Oh, come on.

One asparagus, one risotto,
one smoked halibut...

This isn´t right.

I mean, he´s --

Yes, yes, yes,
I know!

I know he´s a suspect
in a murder case.

I haven´t forgotten --

We have got customers
out there.

Not many
admittedly, but --

Shh! Margaret!

Taste this.

Oh!

No, come on.
I insist.

Okay, I suppose.

"Okay, I suppose."

"Okay, I suppose."

Coming from my wife,

that is practically
a standing ovation.

Well, have
I converted you?

You have, and I´m
profoundly grateful.

Just one thing...

I think my constable
is rather anxious

this might be intended
to influence

my handling
of the inquiry.

A corrupt payment
of two dozen

escargot farci
à la Bourguignon.

Well, hardly.

But perhaps knowing my
particular passion for food.

Rest assured, Mr. Crabbe,

the thought never
entered my head.

Good night.

Good night.

Now, that, Pinkney,

is an extremely dangerous man.

Crabbe: Boarding kennels,
are you sure?

Yes, sir.
Absolutely.

This case is turning
decidedly bizarre.

I mean, first snails,
now dogs

It did just occur to me,
if they are bringing in drugs,

they´d need some front for their
distribution, wouldn´t they?

Come on.

The snail farm´s no good.

All the buyers
are in France.

A bit thin, isn´t it?

Well, it did look like
quite a lot of money, sir.

Well...

It would be nice to
tie in Rosten

with the kennels,
or better still Featherstone.

Featherstone?
I´m not with you.

Well, the night he died,

he borrowed his
girlfriend´s car.

I´d really like to know why.

Oh, you think
he might have been

checking up
on the Bentleys.

Well, if he was,

it would be a big help
in the motive department.

Hello, Pinkney!

How are you?!

Fine, thanks, gov.

I´ve got the forensics
on the bullet.

Ah!

What do you think,
scrambled or fried?

.32 caliber,

consistent with
a Browning automatic.

RAF pilot issue sidearm,
like you said.

Cambridge: So, it was
his own gun then?

Scrambled eggs all right
with you, Pinkney?

Lovely.

There was
one other thing.
What´s that?

Was he fond of animals at all --
Featherstone?

No, more of a machine man,
I´d have thought.

Why?

It´s just the lab
found dog hair

on his trousers.

Dog hair?
Yeah, gov.

15 different sorts.

What sort is
the dog?

Um, what sort?

The little dog.

Oh, the little dog, yes.

Um...

Well, it´s a Labrador.

Ah, lovely temperament.

Yes, yes.

Never a cross word.

You do realize our fees.

Oh, well, that won´t be
a problem, I´m glad to say,

as long as Fisher´s happy.

Fisher?

Oh, is that
the little dog?

Yes. Ha ha ha.

Oh, that´s nice.

Uh...

We get them all here --

musicians, TV personalities,
fashion designers.

Really?

And what is that place?

The quarantine block.

Oh.

Looks very...

secure.

Well, we don´t want just
anyone wandering in, do we?

No, no, no!

So, where were we?

Oh, yes.

Any special dietary
requirements?

For Fisher?

No, no.

He´ll eat almost anything,
I´m afraid.

That is the jewel in our
collar, as I like to say --

the exercise paddock.

Crabbe: Oh.

Are you all right, dear?

Uh, I just remembered a previous
engagement actually.

Ahem...

I´ll let you know --
about Fisher, I mean!

Fisher: Rosten, you´re quite
sure it was Rosten?

Crabbe: Oh, yes, sir.
Absolutely.

Well, that´s it then,
isn´t it?

Rosten´s obviously
bankrolling

this place as
a distribution center.

We don´t actually
know that, sir.

Oh, come on.
You said yourself.

All the wealthy clients,

so-called musicians
and TV people.

What more do you want?

Well, a bit of solid evidence
wouldn´t hurt.

I mean, this is supposed
to be a murder inquiry.

Well, that´s all wrapped up,
isn´t it?

Featherstone robbing them,

threatened to blow the whistle,
they killed him.

Simple.

Man: Good morning, sir.

Fisher: Good morning.

Drug squad.

Couldn´t catch a chill.

Who?
Who what?

Who killed him?

Well, Bentley, I presume.

Or his wife or Rosten.

Really, I don´t see why
you´re being so negative.

Besides, the motive
is secondary.

Murder.

Secondary?

Henry...

Henry, you´re a good detective,
I´ve never denied it.

A great details man.

But you got to try to see
the broader picture.

We´re talking about smashing
a major drugs ring.

Chance to show
the public we serve

that the police are worthy
of their trust.

Yes, and a nice chance to get
your picture in the paper.

I will pretend
I didn´t hear that.

Look, sir, let me
question them.

Let me talk to
Dr. Featherstone.

Let me try and find
the murder weapon.

It´s impossible.

Bentley is expected
back later today, right?

Well, then...

Operation Dragonfly is go.

Ah, Ms. Dacre.

It´s good to be working
with you again.

It´s nice to see you.

Fine, usual self, I suppose.

Let´s go!

All right, sir?

What the hell does he
want the helicopter for?

We know where he´s going,
don´t we?

I think Mr. Fisher felt
it might have more impact.

"Impact" is not a word to be
bandied about lightly

in the present circumstances!

Flying doesn´t bother you,
does it, sir?

Man: Inspector?!

Phone call for you
from Scotland.
All right.

Fisher: To be frank,
at this point,

I think I can say only
that the man

we believe at the center
of this operation --

the Mr. Big, if you will --

is a major player
in the drugs world.

The intelligence reports
indicate

that large quantities
of heroin have recently

been entering the country
via France.

Hello?!

Yes?

Yeah, Dr. Featherstone,

I´m afraid I´ve got
some very bad news for you.

All right, everyone, this is it.
Good luck!

Fisher: Crabbe, what the hell
are you doing back there?!

Thank you.

I got a horrible feeling
we´re about to make

complete idiots
of ourselves, Cambridge.

Get him to hang on
a minute, will you?

Sir!

Fisher: For God´s sake, man,
come on!

Sir!

Sir, I think we´re making

a terrible mistake!

Don´t be absurd, man.
Sit down!

Crabbe: Sir!

Fisher: For God´s sake,
Crabbe, what now?!

The Bentleys didn´t
shoot him.

Say again?

The Bentleys didn´t
shoot him!

What?!
They´re innocent!

Featherstone was very ill!

His uncle diagnosed it!

He´d been having tests!

I can´t hear you.

Sit back!

Crabbe: Oh, my God!

Put the box down, Bentley!
You´re completely surrounded!

Are we dead yet?

No, sir!

Well, come on, then!

Crabbe: Sir!

Sir, will you please just
listen for one minute?

You´re honestly not going on

about the state of
Featherstone´s health again.

But that´s the whole
point, sir.

The man was suffering
from MND,

a progressive neurological
disorder.

What´s that got
to do with anything?

I really wouldn´t do this, sir.
I just really wouldn´t do it.

Now then...

Well, get them!

Pinkney, get them to cuff
the nasty --

Pinkney!

Dacre: Police today claimed
a major victory

in their campaign against
the smuggling

of domestic pets from
the continent

after a series of arrests
earlier this afternoon.

Oh, this is one of those
rare occasions

where I wished I owned
a video recorder.

Dacre:
Constable Freddy Fisher,

seen here examining the crates
used by the gang.

Pinkney: It´s no
laughing matter, sir.

Mr. Fisher might easily
have got rabies.

Dacre: ...paid up to
£10,000 per animal...

Chef?
Coming.

Pinkney: Sir?

Have I got this right?

You´re saying Featherstone
committed suicide?

But he wasn´t even sick!

Right, but he did know
he was going to

lose his pilot´s license.

And for a man who´s obsessed
with flying as he was...

Cambridge: Finding out about
the smuggling racket

can´t have done much for his
morale either.

Look at that board.

Isn´t it the most wonderful
sight in the world?

You were right.

Just a slow patch.
There was no reason.

Pinkney: Well, what about
the break

Tell him, Cambridge.

Well, the Bentleys set that up
after they found the body.

Suicide would have invalidated
their insurance.

That´s right.

So, you see, we start out
with a box of snails,

and end up with a bunch
of red herrings.

Pinkney: Oh, yeah.

Good, gov.

Margaret: Henry, when you
have quite finished,

people are starving
to death in there.

Cambridge: One thing that´s
still puzzling me, sir.

What´s that?
If Rosten had
nothing to do with it,

why was he still
at the kennels?

Futures.

Sorry?
Financial futures.

He and Mrs. Purtwee
had a mutual interest

in the money markets.

Coincidence again,
you see, Cambridge.

The police mind
is simply not programmed

to deal with coincidence

whereas the real world
is just full of it.

That´s what life
is about, you see.

It´s just one long string
of random events.

Except cooking, chef.

Ah, yes.

Except cooking.

Nothing at all random
about that.

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