All language subtitles for Shakespeare.And.Hathaway.Private.Investigators.S02E08.480p.x264-mSD[eztv]

Oh, hello. Yes! Morning.

Nice of you to join us
on this fascinating adventure.

Thank you. You're all heart,
you are.

Anything? No.

She's probably on her way
to the Maldives right now.

Honestly, Frank, I don't know
why you let Marlowe talk you into

doing this sort of stuff, cos it's
always a complete waste of time.

Not always.

Sometimes the fugitive returns
to the childhood home.

We'll get paid either way.

Yeah, not enough to spend
an entire night in the car

with you snoring your head off.

Er, excuse me, I do not snore.

I've never snored, thank you.

Hello.

What's that?

Um, terribly sorry to disturb you.

I was just wondering
if you could tell me where I am?

Er, yeah, you're in Stratford, mate.

Right.

Thank you.

OK.

Ah, look at his neck!

Excuse me? Hi.Hi.

Are you all right? Yes.
Only, you're bleeding.

Can you tell us what happened?

Um, I don't...

..I'm not sure I can.

What's your name?

Absolutely no idea.

Are you sure it was a good idea
to ignore the doctor's advice?

I can't find any answers
from a hospital bed.

Didn't you two say you
were private investigators?

Help has arrived!

Frank, this is my last favour.

Noted.

He's got amnesia, a blunt
trauma to the back of the head.

Yeah, and the doctors can't say
whether it's temporary or permanent,
poor lamb.

No phone, no wallet, no ID.

Just a single key in his pocket.

OK, well, we'll put some feelers
out for missing persons reports.

Joe, can you take a picture, please?

Put the feelers out?

He might be the victim of a crime.

Or he just fell in a ditch.

Sir, if your memory does return,

then please come down to the station
to make a statement.

And if we want to reach you, then?

He'll be with us. What?!

What about some facial recognition?

Oh, come on! We've already
got our hands full

staking out your fugitive.

Oh, sorry, did no-one tell you?

We caught her two days ago.

What are we supposed to do with him?

Find out who he is, of course.

Look, you know I like nothing more
than helping complete strangers,

out of the goodness of my heart, but
what's the golden rule, Sebastian?

Pro-bono is a no-no.

Well, it might not be pro-bono?

Well, look at him.
He's practically homeless.

A hobo.

No, he's posh and he's
wearing expensive clothes.

He could be a millionaire.

Excuse me? Hi, excuse me? Hi.

If you were a millionaire,
how much would you pay us?

Gosh, um...

..a lot. See? There you go.

Find the identity,
find the pot of gold.

What if there is no gold?
Just a big, empty pot?

Nothing but a lifetime of regrets,
failure and penury?

I'm just saying,
we don't know he's rich.

Oh, yes, we do.

Dun-dun-duuun!

Uh, would you like
to come through?

So, what do you remember?

Well, I, um...

..I... Well, he doesn't.
Does he, Frank? That's the point.

OK, what's your last memory?

What were you doing before
you met us?

Walking outside.

Splitting headache.

It was dark.

Cold, without a coat.

And then I saw the sunrise,
it was...

..rather magnificent, actually.

It was, wasn't it? I thought that.
Yeah, all right.

So, you've no idea
when or how you were injured?

No.

I'm dreadfully sorry.

Don't be. Don't be.

Everything about you
is a potential clue.

You know, like why were you
outside without a coat?

Without your phone and your wallet?

Maybe he was mugged,
clumped on the head.

What, and they left
a 20 grand watch?

No wedding ring,
so probably not married.

And you have got a little nicotine
stain there on your finger,

so you might be a smoker.

OK, so, he goes outside
for a cigarette,

and leaves his phone
and wallet behind.

Oh, sorry, these are, um,

I'm doing a disguise
module on my course.

Did you know that most people don't
remember details about faces?

Just remember the big things,

you know, like hats
and haircuts, beards.

Obviously, you'd remember
a beard on me - that would be easy.

Look, we haven't got time for that.

We need to access what's in here...

..somehow.

Oh! I know.

Don't worry, sweetheart,

I used to hypnotise my fellow
students all the time.

Only one psychotic incident,
caused by bad dope.

So, no need to fret.

Are you sure about this?

Yeah, well, you wanted to
jog his memory, didn't you?

Just sit back, relax,
close your eyes.

Concentrate on your breathing.

That's right, in and out.

In and out, good.

Now, I want you to picture
a door to a stairway,

leading down to a basement.

I want you to walk slowly
down the stairs.

At the bottom, there is a door.

Behind that door is a safe place.

I want you to step through the door.

Tell me where you are.

I'm in a meadow.

Springtime, it's beautiful.

Good.

Now, I want you to picture
a table in that meadow.

On it is a book of your life,

going back to the beginning.

I want you to go to the book
and open it...

..and tell me what you see.

It's empty.

The pages are blank.

Wait...

..there's a hotel.

Two lions and a shield,
above the entrance.

Inside is a black and white
striped carpet.

Which leads to...

..it goes to...

..everything's gone blank again.

It's all right,
you've done really well.

But I want you to come
back to us now.

So, when you're ready,
slowly open your eyes.

The hotel with the lions,

I think it's the Duke Vincent.

Good morning, sir.Morning.

Morning, madam. Oh, morning.

Hi.Welcome to the Duke Vincent.

Do you have a reservation with us?

No, we're not checking in...

Checking in, no. I'm Frank Hathaway,
and this is...

..and I'm Luella Shakespeare,
we're private... Investigators.

Could we speak to
the manager, please?

I'm the manager.

I'm Claudia Farrel.

This is my daughter, Izzie.

May I ask what this is about?

Well, we have a client and I would
tell you his name, but we don't know

what it is. He doesn't know.

He's got amnesia.

But we think he might have stayed
here, possibly as a guest,

but we're, we're not sure.

Um, wonder...

..do you recognise him?

I'm sorry, I don't.

Izzie?

No, I haven't seen him before.

Do you recognise him?

Us neither.Right.

Well, thanks anyway.

This is a gorgeous hotel,
by the way.

It really is.

What do you call that ceiling?

Mock Tudor I think.

Mock Tudor! Mock Tudor, yes.

Well, listen, thanks for your help.
We'll see ourselves out.

Thanks, bye.

What was that about,
with the ceiling? Shh.

So, he has been here?

Possibly.

They were hiding something,
that's for sure.

Is that blood?

I think it is, yeah.

They're all the same brand.

Our smoking friend
must've stepped out

onto one of these balconies,
up here.

Fell, jumped, or was pushed

and I'm willing to bet some
of the staff know exactly which one.

A sophisticated redhead?

More like Ronald MacDonald,
if you ask me.

Well, she's not asking you, is she?

Ignore him. You look lovely.

Thanks, Sebastian.

Ring any bells?

That's it.

That's the carpet!

The corridor leads to a door
with a pin code,

5 4 4 5.

Inside, there's a small kitchen,

sofas and a row of lockers.
I go to the one at the far end.

And I'm sorry, that's all
I remember.

That's all right, the pin code's
more than enough.

Just wish you could
remember your own name.

That sounds like a staffroom.

But then why would you be in there
if you were a hotel guest?

An employee, then?

Dressed like that?

This may be a locker key.

We need to get in that staffroom.

They'll never let us in there.

Hey, but if a sophisticated Southern
redhead was to just walk on in there

and say, "Hey, guys,
where's the rest room?"

Hey?

Howdy.

Sorry, it's such a mess.

I never meant for you to get
drawn into this, sweetheart.

Mum, it's not your fault.

Hey!

Who, are you? What are you
doing in here?

Uh, I'm sorry, I thought
the men's room was in here.

Seems I got myself all
turned around.

'Scuse me, ladies.

Mum, it's not your fault.

Hey! Who are you?
What are you doing in here?

And I found this in the locker.

Bertie Crudburke.
What kind of name's that?

Looks like a caretaker.

Who do you think he is?

What, you don't recognise him? No.

At least, I don't think so.
Why do I feel like I know him?

Because maybe you do.

Put that on.

There, look.

See, look at the eyes,
it's definitely him. It's you.

I think you're right.

Hey, you could take some
disguise tips from him.

Right, Frank Hathaway,
50 quid says I will fool you yet.

Make it 100.

Sorry to interrupt, but are you
saying I'm this Bertie Crudburke?

No, we're saying you disguised
yourself as him.

The big question is why?

Why the interest in my caretaker?

It's just a line of inquiry.

Yeah, we're going to talk to
the rest of the staff, as well.

Well, I hired Bertie
a couple of weeks ago.

He was quiet, but worked hard.
Everyone seemed to like him.

And then he didn't turn
up for his shift two days ago.

We haven't seen him since.

As for the rest of my staff,
I'm certain none of them

know anything about this
amnesiac of yours.

But you're welcome to question
whoever you like.

Now, if you don't mind.

You wouldn't happen to have
Bertie's contact details, would you?

I already tried calling,
there was no answer.

If you do speak to him, tell him
that he still has a job here.

We believe in second chances
at The Duke Vincent.

Thank you.

I'm pretty sure she had no idea
Bertie was a fake.

See if that goes for
the rest of them.

In the meantime, let's hope this
address is real, at least.

Hello, again.

I was just thinking, this just
must be so nice

to work somewhere like this.

Hard work, obviously.

It is hard work,
but we're used to it.

And we know how to have fun.

Best job in the world. Right, Leon?

Ah, that's unusual, isn't it,
these days? Happy employees.

Which kind of makes me think -

why did your caretaker,
Bertie, never come back?

Do you know where he is? No.

He was sound.

He liked old cars.

Darren.

It's funny you should
ask about Bertie,

because, uh... somebody broke
into his locker this morning.

Do you know anything about that?

Me? No.

Oh.

Oh, excuse me,
I need to get this.

Hello, Sebastian.

Hello.

Hey, how did you get on
at Bertie's address?

He must've picked it at random,
just some pensioner.

How'd you get on with the staff?

Tight-knit and tight-lipped.

Bertie had them fooled, though.
Oh, and Seb called,

there's no results on that
name check.

So, we're still no closer
to finding out who he is.

No. I'll speak to you later.

Yes, we're going to treat him with
the utmost respect, Mrs Parsons,

I can assure you.

Chief Constable's wife.Mm-hm.

What's in the box?

Yeah, she reckons it was poisoned.

She says she left the Duke Vincent
Hotel yesterday afternoon, when...

Fuzz Ball carked it early
this morning.

The Duke Vincent Hotel.

Well, there's a coincidence.

We think our amnesiac
might've been injured there,

possibly by a member of the staff.

"Think, might've, possibly."

He is definitely connected
with that hotel, OK?

Christina, could you run that photo
through facial recognition for me?

Yeah, I already did. I told you
I'd do you a favour, didn't I?

No match was found.

OK, that's that, then.

Different photo.

Try this one?

This is the CCTV footage
taken two weeks ago,

outside a local newsagent's.

That's definitely him in disguise.

Can you get a close-up
on the number plate?

Yes, I was doing that, thank you.

Moment of truth.

Spare some change, darling?

Sorry, love, I'm a bit short today.

But I'll have £100 soon enough.

Really?!

So, his name's Alfred D'Angelo,
he's 43.

He inherited a multi-million pound
trust fund when he was 18.

Oh, and he happens to be
the owner of the Duke Vincent Hotel.

No! He owns it?

Yeah, there's more.

A dog died from eating
a poisoned steak,

which I suspect was meant
for Alfred.

And the very same day
he took a tumble from a balcony.

Someone tried to kill him
in that hotel.

Twice.

Are they raisins?

Rice Krispies!

Oh.Ugh, no.

Wait for me!

Thank you.

I'm scared, Gloria.

What if I get my memory back
and I don't like who I am?

Darling, "In thy face, I see the map
of honour, truth and loyalty."

Uh, you might want to sit down
for this, Alfred.

Alfred?

We know your name.
And where you live.

Wow.

Maybe, um,
maybe we shouldn't go inside.

I mean, we don't even have the keys.

I came prepared.

Well, I can tell you one thing.

There's definitely no women
living here.

There's not a scatter cushion
in sight!

Hello. Huh!

Well, at least
we know we're in the right place.

This is the hotel. Look.

It's like hidden cameras?

You were spying on them.

Why would I do that?

Maybe you suspected
they were up to something.

That's why you went under cover!
Try and catch them in the act.

Yeah, but in the act of what?

I don't know.

But whatever it was,
it was worth trying to kill him for.

So, the undercover recordings
were made three days ago,

the day before Bertie
fell off the radar.

Though I think Alfred ditched
the Bertie disguise

and checked himself
into the hotel as himself,

to confront someone with
whatever he found.

But who? Well, Claudia told Izzie
that she was sorry for dragging her
into something.

What were mother and daughter up to?

And the doorman and bellboy,
I mean, they would've known Alfred,

but they denied it too.

Are they trying to protect
themselves? Or someone else?

Well, if we go through the footage,
we might find out.

"We?" Stop whingeing. We've got
other things to do,

like going back to see Claudia.
It's time for a shakedown.

Your client is Mr D'Angelo?

Yeah.
We showed you his photo yesterday.

It's a bit strange, isn't it, that
you didn't recognise your own boss.

I've never met him.
As long as the profits roll in,

Mr D'Angelo's always been happy

to leave the running of the business
to me.

I think you're lying,
to cover up the fact

he fell from one of your balconies
two nights ago.

That's utterly absurd.

He's never even stayed here.
Ask anyone.

Mum?

The police are here.

Toadstools?

According to our toxicology report.

It was meant to look like mushroom
sauce, on a steak.

So if the intended target was
one of your guests,

I don't have to tell you how serious
that is. No, of course.

I'll do anything I can to help.
Thank you.

We'll need a list of everyone who
ordered room service that night.

Um, I'd also like to interview
the kitchen staff.

And anyone else who
was on shift that day.

Should keep the staff
busy for a while.

Time to get our hands dirty.

What do you mean by dirty?

A little bit of help would be nice.

The answer's still no.

I mean, what makes you think
he's got any luggage anyway?

There must something in here that
proves he checked in.

Frank. Frank!

This is everyone who had steak.
Thanks.

As I said, I'm happy to assist,

but not if you're going to single
out my staff for harassment.

Excuse me? Darren and Leon are
reformed characters,

and I won't have them
treated like criminals, thank you.

OK, you need to check this list.
See if anyone's fallen ill.

Oh, a bit of leg work, eh?
Chop, chop.

You need to take a shower, mate.
What?

What do you think
she meant by reformed characters?

Yeah, the concierge and bellboy.

They've... both got records.

What for?
Sorry, Frank.

No more favours. Oof!

Hey, stop it.

Why don't you go to the office,
see what you

and Seb can dig up about these two?
Yeah.

In the meantime,
I've got an MG to find.

Oh, look, you might want to
start by looking there.

Hello? Hello.
Did you find the car?

Yeah, and some kind of log book.

How'd you get on?

Right so, Leon Jones.
He's an ex-army mechanic,

er, he did time for GBH.

And he was picked up a few other
times for vagrancy

and drunk and disorderly.

But he's had no trouble
with the police

since he started working
for Claudia Farrel five years ago.

What about the bellboy,
Darren Morgan?

Persistent young offender,
until he was caught burgling the

Duke Vincent Hotel - Claudia dropped
all charges and offered him a job.

Which is why everyone's so loyal.

Good work.

Ooh, wait, there's more. Seb found
something on Alfred's laptop.

Bertie the caretaker.

Cleaning.

Oh, trust me, there's hours of this.

But eventually...

What did he take?

We've tried slowing it down

but that stupid pot plant's always
in the way.

Do you know what he took, Alfred?

I'm sorry, I don't.

Well, on the upside, guys,

I've worked out what you were
keeping your log book for.

You were making a note of how many
hotel rooms were occupied.

Now, there were virtually no
vacancies during the whole time you

were under cover. However, when you
look at the company

books for those two weeks, they say
the hotel was only two-thirds full.

So, Claudia was stealing from you,
and you wanted to prove it.

Here's a question for you -
why would

a multimillionaire go to so much
trouble over a few measly quid?

I don't...

"Rich only to be wretched,

"Thy great fortunes are made thy
chief afflictions."

Are you picking on him?

Because if you are, you shouldn't,
you know,

because he's the victim, really.

He's been losing
thousands of pounds a month.

At least I've earned some of it
back.

Bertie's wages.
Let's have a look, shall we?

That's very generous
for two weeks' work.

And why's half of it in cash?

Maybe Claudia was stealing it from
him and giving more to the staff.

Run that CCTV footage back again.

I know what he took.

We know you've been diverting
money into a second bank account.

If you had any evidence of that,
the police would already be here.

I don't hear a denial.

Mr D'Angelo's making
a handsome profit.

A far cry from
when I first came here,

with miserable staff
offering a shoddy service.

Now the Duke Vincent is world-class,

and that's because my staff
are valued,

whether Mr D'Angelo likes it or not.

That's all very altruistic.

I'm sure you don't keep a big
chunk of change for yourself.

You're welcome to examine the books
Mr Hathaway. I'm sure you'll find
them all in order.

Doctored records don't interest me.

I'm after a missing chip
and pin terminal.

You know, the one from reception?

The one I'm sure you've been looking
for as well.

Great trick.

Hm? Getting a third of your guests
to pay into a secret account

without their knowledge.

Only problem is, every chip and pin
machine has a unique ID number.

Alfred had it with him in his
possession, before the accident.

We find it, we've got you.

Well, it's a
pity his memory's been erased then.

We need to get
you inside that room, Alfred.

It might help you remember.

Can I help you?

Good afternoon.

Oh, right, yes.

I'd like to stay in the room
that... that I was in before, please.

I'm sorry, sir,
what room would that be?

Well, he owns the hotel!

So, I don't know,
the Luxury Suite, maybe?

Izzie, give Mr D'Angelo
the King Lear suite.

I believe it's unoccupied.

I'm with them.

This is the same bed. I know it.

I couldn't be sure before,

but Izzie was here with me
that night.

When you say Izzie was "with you".

Well, we were... we were about to...

Oh! Right.

She didn't seem too
pleased to see you just now.

OK...

I want you to walk me
through what happened that night.

You stepped outside for a cigarette.

Yes.

If Izzie was here, she could've just
walked up behind him and pushed
him...

No. You didn't see
the way she smiled at me.

Blast it, I'm tired of guessing!

I should jolly well
go and talk to her.

Wait here!

You just washed your hands.
Of course.

It was you on the roof just now,
wasn't it?

You tried to kill Alfred,

and you pushed him off the balcony
two nights ago. What?

Only you didn't plan on him
surviving,

so you got your friends to cover
for you.

Why would Izzie want to kill
Mr D'Angelo? Why would anyone?

Because he found out that her and
Claudia

were stealing from him, maybe?

I don't care about the money.

I just want to understand what
happened between us.

Stay away from her.
It's all right, Darren.

Isabel, please just talk to me.

I know that you and I were lovers.

Lovers?

I only went to your room
because you blackmailed me into it.

You said if I didn't sleep with you,

you'd have my mother thrown in jail,
and everyone working here fired.

So I agreed.

I... tried...

But I couldn't, and I left.

I don't know how you fell from that
balcony, and I don't care.

If you died, who would miss you?

There'd just be one less rich,
selfish creep in the world.

Alfred.

Just... let him go.

Go on, then. Take it all off.

How about you take a flying jump?

Isabel.

I remember everything.

And Isabel was right.
I'm not a good person. I never was.

I feel awful, Lu.

So you should.

Well, not that you deserve it,
we'll drop you at A&E.

Get you checked out.

Your brakes have been cut.

Somebody must really want you dead.

Well, if your memory's back,
do you know who pushed you?

I didn't see their face.

But I do remember this.

Well, this'll get
Claudia for embezzlement.

But we still don't know
who tried to kill Alfred.

Claudia's got the biggest motive,
hasn't she?

Although it might have
been Izzie.

She might've just pushed him for
being a slimeball. Can't say I'd
blame her.

Whoever cut Alfred's brakes
knew their way around a car.

Leon's a mechanic.

With a history of violence, and he's
got an undying loyalty to Claudia.

Darren's interested in cars too,
you know. I saw Leon teaching him.

And that's not all he's
interested in.

I think he's got
feelings for Izzie.

How do you mean - teaching him?

Leon was getting someone's
engine started.

Darren just stood there, watching.

He was watching? Maybe he didn't
want to get his hands dirty.

I don't know, Frank.

Oh, come on. I gave you the chip
and pin, didn't I?

That's got to buy me
at least one more favour.

We know who it is.
But that's not enough.

We need a confession.

OK.

Claudia Farrel, you're under arrest
on suspicion of theft and false
accounting.

And Isabel Farrel, we're taking
you in for questioning over

the attempted
murder of Alfred D'Angelo.

You don't have to say anything,
but it may harm your defence

if you do not mention something
which you later rely on in court.

Please let my daughter go.
Please!

Izzie didn't do it! She didn't!

How do you know that?

Because it was you, wasn't it?

You knew that Mr D'Angelo had been
trying to sleep with Izzie.

And you couldn't bear the thought
of him touching her, could you?

Ooh!

I never. Must've jumped.

What? Like the way he had to jump
out the way this afternoon?

I suppose he poisoned his own
food as well, did he?

And cut his car brakes.
But Darren wouldn't do all that!

He's had a hard start,
but he's a good lad.

You tampered with the car before
you went up onto the roof.

I know because I found
motor oil on the door handle.

Just like I'll find in those
nice, clean, white gloves.

No, you won't.

Take them off, then.

Get off. Get off me!

I'm not sorry I tried to kill him.

I'm just sorry it didn't work.

Excuse me, um,

I'd like to say a few words,
if I may?

I have a confession to make.

For two weeks, I've worked amongst
you all,

as Bertie, the caretaker.

And I discovered
how hard you all work.

And how much you care.

You deserve the decent wage that
Ms Farrel decided to pay you.

And I give you my word
I'll honour that.

Now, I know today has been
traumatic for you.

But I know Ms
Farrel would want you to continue

doing your jobs
as professionally as ever.

As do I. So...

Thank you.

I'm so sorry, Isabel.

I'm not asking for forgiveness,
just a chance to put it right.

If I can't get the charges dropped,

I'll find the best solicitor
I can for your mother.

What do you want from me in return?

Just a promise.

That if you do stay,
the accounts will add up in future.

I'll keep my promise
if you keep yours.

Nice to see a rich man
spreading his wealth around.

Speaking of which.
Yes, of course.

I trust this will
cover your services.

Oh, yes...

Thank you both, for helping me
find a better man within myself.

It's just one thing
I still don't get.

Why did you throw the steak
out of the window?

Did you know it was poisoned?
No.

No. I'd asked for it to be rare,
you see.

And it was clearly medium-rare.

What a shame Lu wanted to study
rather than celebrate with us.

I know. But listen, we couldn't have
cracked the case without you two.

And as a token of my gratitude...

..I'll get another round in.
How generous of you.

Oh! Don't worry, darling,

he'll part with some of that money
sooner than you think.

Right I'll have a pint of lager,
a whisky,

and a red wine, please, my good man.

That's no problem.
That'll be £100, please.

£100?!

Oh, ho-ho-ho!

Ha-ha! Got you!