Original subtitles

(theme music plays)

It's 4:30.

Yeah, I know.

Are you sure they're gonna come back this way?

They've got to.

Gotta park the car here.

Look, Miss Miranda Loxton

and her appointed bodyguard left here last night

at 9:00, and they're going to a party.

And they're due back any moment now.

They'll come through that door over there,

and they will drive over there,

and they will park their car,

and she will get out of the door of her car.

And then we shall kill Miss Loxton.

Supposed the bodyguard drops her off at the main entrance?

And leaves her alone? Mnh-mnh.

- They'll be coming here. - (car approaching)

(gunshots)

(doorbell rings)

Hello, Tara.

Hello. How...

- Mother? - Tara.

Mother away from headquarters?

You checking a gun? It must be very important.

Very.

Oh, well, of course, if it's such a big secret

that you can't even tell me what it is...

- It is. - Well, almost.

You've heard of Miranda Loxton?

Who hasn't?

Lovely Miranda is the key witness

against Murder International.

When she gives her evidence next week...

If she gives her evidence.

Her car was attacked early this morning,

and her bodyguard was murdered.

She's gone into hiding, refuses to come out

until we guarantee her safety.

And can we?

We can do our very best.

Put her under the wing of a top executive.

He can take her to a hiding place known only to him.

You?

- Me. - (doorbell rings)

Just... the two of you?

Simple but safe.

- Ready, Bobby? - Ready.

Meet Tara King. This is Bobby Cleaver.

Hi.

By the way, you can take my car.

It's a little too conspicuous for me,

and I'll give you three rings as soon as I'm installed

- at Fort Steed. - Very cozy, too.

I must say,

I do enjoy my visits here. (chuckles)

Fort Steed.

And just exactly where is he meeting Miranda?

Hmm? Oh, in a car park on the other side of the town.

I can see her. You ready?

Yes.

How do things look?

Possible raider astern.

- Standby all systems. - Right.

How do you do?

My name is Steed. John Steed.

We should have a nice quiet journey.

Uh, when do you expect him to call?

Who?

Steed.

No idea.

Whenever he reaches safety.

Well, I've got things to do.

Mother, you will tell me, won't you?

I mean, if anything should go wrong.

Wrong?

Miss King, if anything should go wrong,

the whole department will know about it!

Just keep driving.

Don't turn around, and don't do anything.

No need to be frightened now Miss Loxton.

Look, why don't you make yourself comfortable?

Take off your nose.

That's better.

Ooh!

Now that is much better.

There's no need to worry.

Whoever was chasing us is miles away by now.

Get out.

Fat man: Things going well so far.

Thin man: They'd better be. What's the plan?

Fat man: Booby trap. It's already underway.

- Where did they plant it? - In Steed's apartment.

We may have lost Steed, but we'll finish Mother.

It's poetic, too, you'll like that.

How poetic?

Mother's waiting for the telephone to ring three times.

Thin man: I don't see the poetry in that.

The third ring detonates the booby trap.

On the third ring, the bomb explodes.

Nice surprise packet, aye?

It was my idea.

The boss fell for it immediately.

Thin man: Three rings on a phone?

One... two... three.

(laughs)

Third time, unlucky!

(laughs)

Thin man: Poor old Mother.

(glass shatters)

(echoing) For the telephone to ring three times.

On the third ring... Steed's apartment...

Steed's apartment.

One... two... three.

(laughing)

Third time unlucky!

(telephone ringing)

(wails)

Mother...

Mother!

Miss King... Miss King...

No. Don't try to move. You've been injured.

We'll get you to the hospital as soon as we can.

I tried to warn him. Is he all right?

Don't talk now.

Now, you mustn't exert yourself, you've been hurt, badly hurt.

How badly?

Don't know for sure yet.

Are you in pain?

No.

My legs...

my legs are numb.

We must hurry.

But can we move her?

We'll just give her a shot, put her out for a while.

Don't worry.

We'll all take good care of you.

We can move her now, but we must hurry.

Doctor.

Major.

How are you feeling?

I don't know.

My legs.

You're a very lucky girl.

Lucky?

At least according to the doctor here.

Is that right Dr. Wells?

There is no permanent spinal damage.

Spinal...

At least not as far as we can see.

- Oh, what about the rest of... - Easy now please.

You have sustained multiple fractures of both legs

and severe lacerations.

So you must rest.

Both legs broken.

Both legs?

Broken but fortunately not crushed.

That's what I meant by lucky.

In a couple of months, you'll be walking about again.

Mother...

I must warn Mother!

Easy now. Easy.

Go ahead but try not to tire her too much.

Oh, uh, perhaps I'd... I'd better introduce myself.

My name is Firth. Major Firth.

Oh, we haven't met before,

but of course I know all about you from the files.

Do you feel up to answering a few questions?

You've been in delirium for some time

talking about two men who grabbed you,

kidnapped you.

That's right.

Two men.

Any idea who these men were or where they took you?

No.

Yes, I-I should have...

I left... I left there in Steed's car.

It was a house...

a house with grounds.

Well, I must know where the house is...

Firth, don't force her to remember too much too soon.

All right. All right. We'll skip that for a moment.

Now you arrived at Steed's apartment.

Yes, I...

I don't remember how I got there.

I was just suddenly there.

A booby trap.

Three rings on the telephone, and Mother was there.

Oh...

Is that all?

Oh, I don't know. My mind's in such a muddle.

Tara, listen to me.

Your kidnapping, the booby trap,

none of it seems to link up in any way.

We don't know why you were grabbed,

why the bomb was planted.

It's all so... inexplicable.

The only one who can help us is Steed.

But we...

Where is he?

He's away. He's on a secret assignment.

Yeah, that much I do know, but where?

I don't know. He didn't even tell me.

Well, ask Mother. Why not ask Mother?

He's sure to...

I can't ask Mother.

Why not?

Mother is dead.

Thank you.

(chuckles) Fort Steed.

Are we staying?

I can't think of anywhere safer.

To my certain knowledge there are only two people

who know of its existence.

And they won't talk?

Talk?

Stinks Wilkins and Fatty the Gorger talk?

They're sworn to the utmost secrecy

on the solemn oath of last one in's a ninny.

Besides, if they ever did talk,

I wouldn't allow them holler down my rain barrel,

not ever.

We used to play here as a kid.

It's not exactly the Savoy, but, well,

why don't we observe the niceties anyway?

Thank you.

How long do you think I'll have to stay?

Oh, not long.

Just until it's time for you to give evidence.

There we are, oops.

But that's a week away.

Oh, time will fly, don't you worry.

Always did here in the old days.

This place reeks of grand old

British military history.

It does?

Some of the most glorious battles were fought here.

Corunna, Waterloo, Balaclava,

Wellington's run after Napoleon,

General De Clare's ignominious retreat.

There was nothing ignominious about that.

De Clare was forced into impossible terrain.

When De Clare led his troops into...

Oh, he was doing exactly the right thing.

Taking into account the fact that he was outflanked

- on the right?! - He shouldn't have been outflanked

if his third division had got through,

- as they were supposed to. - Supposed to?

My dear young lady, it was an open and shut...

Would you like to reconstruct the battle?

You can be General De Clare.

I'd be delighted.

Good!

Fort Steed. That's all he said?

Tara: That's all.

Fort Steed.

It means nothing to you?

I don't think so.

You don't think so. You're not sure?

I don't know.

- You're not absolutely sure. - I don't know.

Fort Steed. Think, Tara, think!

- Fort Steed! - Gently.

Ah, yes, of course. I'm sorry.

Tara...

I'm sorry.

I don't mean to press you like this.

But don't you see how vital it is that we locate Steed?

He's the key to this whole thing.

- If we don't find him, he's... - (door opens)

- Major Firth. - Yes.

This, you should see this, sir.

Tara: What is it?

Plans for another booby-trap bomb.

We found it near Mother's body.

Obviously dropped by the person who wired the phone.

The explosive charge is put in here

and wired to a gold pencil.

When the button is pressed...

What's the matter?

This pencil is the same as the one I gave Steed

- for Christmas. - Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure. Look at the crown insignia there.

It's the same. It's the same pencil.

Then he's walking around with a bomb in his pocket.

Tara, you must think.

Help us to find out what he meant by Fort Steed.

Help us to find him before this goes up.

Ready?

Right.

You keep score for you...

and I'll keep score for me.

All right.

Let's take it step by step.

Steed has gone to earth.

He'd choose a hiding place he was familiar with.

He'd know every approach, every exit.

That's good training. Good sense.

It'd be some place he used before.

Exactly!

So somewhere, sometime along the line,

he must have given you some kind of hint,

given you some kind of clue.

A hunting lodge perhaps.

An apartment by the sea. A friend's house?

No, I don't know.

Surely, records is the place to look

for that kind of information.

Why don't you look in Steed's file?

- That's the very first... - (door opens)

Sorry, sir, it's almost time.

Oh, yes.

Be with you in a moment.

I shan't be gone long.

An hour at most.

Keep thinking.

Major Firth...

Mother?

Yes.

Take me with you.

Are you sure you're fit enough?

Steed or me, one of us ought to be there.

Please take me.

It's up to you, doctor.

Please.

Very well.

But I'll have to give you a sedative.

Two sedatives.

One to get you there and one to bring you back.

(church bell tolling)

Are you all right?

It was a mistake. You shouldn't have come.

I had to come.

All right, we better go back.

Bobby.

What?

Bobby Cleaver.

He was on the assignment with Steed.

He might know where he is.

Cleaver. You know his address?

25 Cranbrook Road.

HQ? Major Firth here.

I'm on my way to 25 Cranbrook Road

to see a Mr. Bobby...

Cleaver.

Cleaver, he was on assignment with Steed.

He may have something important to tell us.

Have you got that?

He may have something important to tell us.

Man: Message understood.

Over, out.

(engine starts)

25 Cranbrook Road.

Well, let's hope your friend Cleaver's at home.

He could put an end to this business at one go.

(doorbell rings)

Mr. Cleaver, my name is Major Firth.

I w...

You still have...

half a battalion left.

The wise general always tempers strategy

with humanity.

There's been enough bloodshed already.

I capitulate. I offer you my sword.

And I accept.

Don't look too despondent.

I cut my teeth on deployed strategy,

pincer movements, outflanking maneuvers.

(chuckles) My father was a military historian.

Military historian, eh?

Recorded everything, sort of,

from the Battle of Hastings on.

(chuckles) hen he wouldn't know much

about naval battles, then, eh?

No.

So how about fighting...

the battle of Trafalgar?

A sea battle?

Be a nice change for you?

Of course if you don't feel capable...

Oh! I'm willing to learn.

You're the French fleet.

That's the ship of the line.

Ships.

- He's on a ship? - No.

It's a conversation we had once about ships on the river.

Steed said boats go on the river, ships go on the sea.

I don't understand. Boats and ships...

No, no it's the river. The river is important.

It's a conversation we had once about Steed's childhood.

Some place he used to play, a place on the river.

- What river? - Oh, I don't know. He didn't mention it.

But I'm sure he meant the Thames.

- The Thames. - Yes.

Any idea how far it stretches the Thames,

how many houses there are on it?

Henley. Henley. That's where it is.

He used to steal his father's binoculars

and then go across the field and watch the regatta.

Well, that's where they hold the regatta, isn't it?

- At Henley. - Yes, yes, Henley.

It's a big area to cover.

Well, it's something. I mean, it's a start.

If we knew what kind of house we were looking for.

Well, it'd be a big one.

Steed's childhood is simply littered

with grand and stately houses.

Plenty of those in Henley, too.

But Did they ever tell you about it in any way?

Describe it to you?

Oh, he may have.

The only thing I know for sure...

is that it's on the river.

And what do you think you're doing?

My Rear Admiral.

Up to the front of the line, I think.

But... But you can't do that.

Why not?

Well, it's simply not done.

Rear Admiral, he stays at the rear.

That's why it's called a Rear Admiral.

Supposing all the other boats turn round?

Well, then he's at the front of the line, isn't he?

All right. But you'll regret it.

Oh, and it's ships, by the way.

The correct vernacular... Ships not boats.

What are you doing with that?

Covering myself against a surprise attack

- from those. - Oh! Those.

And what leads you to believe that they're gonna make

- a surprise attack? - Feminine intuition.

Poor Nelson, what he had to put up with.

Oh, and what have you got in mind for those?

Oh, I don't know.

They make a rather pretty pattern, don't you think?

Pretty patterns...

- (horn honking) - What's that?

Captain Cleghorn and his foghorn.

He's a local eccentric. He's retired from the sea.

Now lives by the river,

tooting his horn at passing ducks.

He goes to the river then?

It's about a quarter of a mile away across the fields.

The house on the river near Henley,

a big house, almost certainly an old one.

It's a kind of progress, but it's not enough.

There must be something else.

- I'm sorry I... - If Steed told you that much,

he must have told you something else!

A casual remark, a snippet of conversation?

Think, Tara!

I am thinking.

Oh, wait a minute.

Steed once took me to a house in the country.

And he said it reminded him of a similar house,

a house he used to live in.

- Describe it. - Well...

Oh, I can't.

It was surrounded by a wall with urns along the top.

Urns?

Yes, you know, urns, vases in stone,

set at intervals along the wall.

A kind of Rococo Grecian style many of the Victorian affected.

Quite.

Well, now we know what type of house it is... Victorian.

- I'd say early Victorian. - (groans)

Listen, we're only guessing anyways.

The house might not look anything like Steed's,

and he might not even be there.

What about an association of ideas?

What?

You know, the psychiatric trick

for making people remember,

associate one thing with another.

What are you driving at?

Steed's apartment.

If you were to take me there, well,

it might trigger something off,

It's worth a try.

What do you think, doctor?

Another journey.

All this strain and excitement.

It is worth a try.

She's still a very sick girl.

And Steed's a very dead man unless we get to him in time.

Can you make her fit to travel?

Can I take her there?

Very well.

But I must insist on the same conditions as before.

Two sedatives.

One to get me there, and one to get me back.

Firth: Tara...

Tara...

Are you all right?

Are you sure you want to go through with this?

Yes.

Well?

The contents were taken to forensics.

You can see them later if you wish.

Now does that mean anything?

"Model of ship's canon, 1672."

Well?

Is there anything else then that assists

your process of assessing...

Roses! Look!

Roses.

They're carnations.

No, no, no. I mean roses. Roses.

Steed said there were roses around the front door

of the house, a house set in its own grounds.

Gates, he used to swing on the gates.

Iron gates with faces in them, one laughing and one crying.

Two faces. That's good, good.

Anything else?

I don't think so.

Well, it's something. Nurse?

I think it's time we were getting you back to hospital.

I'll have my men start looking for those gates.

It's progress in the right direction.

Any case, the British can't lose the battle of Trafalgar.

Sorry. I think they have.

Unless you'd care to take on my warships with this.

That is awash with survivors.

(chuckles) I don't understand.

Mine was a copy-book attack.

How you managed to...

It was my uncle.

My Uncle Charlie, he was a naval historian.

Oh?

Oh!

I think I better stick to what I know best.

(chuckles)

My uncle...

was a chess grand master.

Any luck?

I've got two teams combing the Henley area,

but a pair of iron gates, however distinctive,

it's like looking for a needle in a haystack.

We've got to try something else.

- Tara? Tara. - Let her rest.

There isn't time!

Tara. Tara, that house.

You've got to remember it.

The name of it for instance, the road it stood in.

I can't...

You've got to... You stay out of it!

I'm her doctor, remember?!

Talk outside.

What are you trying to do, sabotage the whole thing?

- She really does need rest. - She hasn't time to rest!

- If we don't find Steed... - You'll get nothing out of her this way, I promise you.

Let her sleep for a while.

And when her mind's a bit fresher...

- Look I told you... - She genuinely does need to rest.

How long?

An hour or two, no longer.

Very well.

An hour, that's all.

What do you think the chances are?

Depends on your knight.

No I meant about me. Or us.

Is this place really safe?

I can't think of anywhere safer.

No one knows it at the department.

No one?

Haven't breathed a word to anyone, except...

Except?

Well... (chuckles)

she doesn't know enough to find the place.

And anyway, why should she talk about it?

- But surely... - Go on, it's your move.

Mm. Making a game of it, eh?

(clocks tongue)

Comfortable?

Yes. Thank you.

I'm very thirsty.

Yes, I thought you might be.

What's the matter?

Oh, nothing.

I thought you were thirsty?

I am.

- Oh! - (glass breaks)

Clumsy.

I'll mix you another.

Oh, Major Firth.

You wanted something?

Yes, I want to tell you something.

That man standing behind you,

he's one of the two men who grabbed me.

- Are you sure? - Yes.

Don't worry, Miss King.

We'll arrange something.

- Thank you, Major. - Oh, sorry.

Oh! Agh!

One of the men who grabbed her.

She recognized him.

You didn't have to hit him so hard.

- Didn't I? - (running footsteps)

Intruder. Have him searched.

Find out who he is and how he got in here.

- (door closes) - Sorry about that.

When I find out the man who let him in...

Oh, don't worry.

It's all over now. Don't think about it.

A gun. A cannon.

That's what I've been trying to think of.

A cannon-shaped weather vane, it's on top of the house.

It's like a landmark. You can see it from miles.

That's just what we've been waiting for!

Now we'll find that house!

Your uncle was a chess grand master?

Mm-hmm.

I think I ought to warn you.

I had an aunt...

who was a chess grand...

grand...

Mistress?

Mm.

Hold it.

Let us divide the area up, go through it piece by piece.

Go that way.

Steed!

Doctor.

Come to congratulate me on my miraculous recovery?

I think you're about to have a relapse.

A fake.

The whole thing was a fake to get me talking.

And Steed's pen, it doesn't have a bomb in it.

Nevertheless, he will die,

now that you've helped us to find him,

Steed and the witness he's protecting.

Booby trap.

Steed had no one and nothing to fear,

nothing except my stupidity.

I wouldn't... yourself too much.

The situation we created,

helped by drugs, of course...

(elevator whirs)

Checkmate, I think.

That's it.

How about taking me on at...

wrestling?

Oh, any time!

(whistling happily)

No urns, Major.

No weather vane either.

Keep going.

Mwah! Mother.

What a fantastic story.

Dastardly plan, fiendish.

And another thing... It worked.

- Quite. - Well, what are we going to do about it?

- I mean, Firth and his men will be looking for... - (telephone rings)

Looking, he may be, but he hasn't found him yet.

Steed's hourly signal to say that all is well.

For the time being.

Special services.

Now we have a bigger organization than them

if we can use it in time.

I want a prominent house,

one that they can't easily overlook.

Special Services? Mother.

I have a number-one priority job for you

at Henley on Thames immediately.

Yes.

I require...

What do I require?

Oh, Grecian urns, roses, the gates,

the weather vane.

Yes.

Now, I require one dozen Grecian urns.

Two iron faces, one laughing, one crying.

One crate with plastic roses for the door,

and one canon-shaped weather vane.

Ah!

One, two, three, four, five, six!

I knew I'd hit upon your Achilles heel

somewhere along the line.

It's in the blood, of course.

You have an uncle who's world Ludo champion?

An aunt?

Cousin Desmond.

Not Demon Desmond, the world Ludo champion.

Mm-hmm.

Desmond the demon...

dice loader.

Groovy, baby!

Stop!

Look there it is, see?

The weather vane.

Come on.

Oh...

(rattling)

Ah, gentlemen.

I'm afraid you've come to the wrong address.

Game, set, and match.

All that's needed now to complete the tournament

is for Tara to find the real house.

A canon!

C-A-N-O-N.

Steed!

Steed, what's the difference between a canon,

a cardinal, and a bishop?

I haven't the faintest idea.

Do you know, that's what so marvelous.

(knock on door)

Come on in, the door's open.

Good morning.

Good morning. Help yourself to coffee.

Thank you.

What are you doing, planning the western defenses?

More important than that.

What, Operation Overkill?

Tracing my lineage.

That's my family tree, the mighty oak of the Steeds

that has bestrewed this green and pleasant land

for... well, for a long time.

Come have a look.

Mm-hmm.

- Have a look at him. - Who's he?

Steed the Ready.

He dominated three shires in the Dark Ages.

And there, Sir Steedalot.

One of the Knights of the Round Table?

He invented the round table.

He did?

Unintentionally.

You see originally, the Round Table was square.

But Sir Steedalot had a bad habit.

He couldn't resist whittling away with his sword

at any piece of wood that came to hand.

I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!

- Eureka. - What is it?

I proved what I've always suspected.

- Now come have a look. - Yes, what now?

Now, going back on my great-grandfather's side

to my great-great-cousin twice removed

through my great-uncle's cousin's aunt's sister...

On my mother side, that is...

And taking into account my father's, father's,

father's brother who was four times removed

from my uncle's cousin's sister's brother's nephew,

I had an ancestor who was related by marriage

to the brother of the father of the sister

of King Noffin of the Fens!

It's as I always suspected.

I am of royal blood.

(gasps) Your Majesty.

You're knighted.

(theme music plays)