All language subtitles for Randall & Hopkirk Deceased s01e17 Somebody Just Walked Over My Grave.eng

Mmm...

Jeff!

Not now, Marty.

- It's urgent. It's vital.
- I don't care.

Don't care about what, Jeff?

I've just come from the graveyard.
They're after me. They want me!

Want you? It's unnatural.

- What's unnatural about it?
- Shh.

- They're body-snatching!
- Body-snatching?

And very good you are, too.

Jeff, they've knocked over
my headstone!

Well?

Just a pair of grave diggers.

- You don't believe that, do you?
- Why not?

- At this time of night?
- Sure.

Are you gonna stop them or not?
What are you thinking about?

There's my mortal remains
being raked over by a pair of ghouls.

More likely employees
of the local council.

That's not good enough.
Will you or won't you?

- What?
- Stop them.

Yeah, all right.

What was that?

I'll have a look round.

Thanks, Marty.

Why did you leave me there alone?

- What could I have done?
- At least you would have seen them.

You could say that.
But I wasn't hit on the head.

Oh! You think I imagined it.

Well...

You called me out last night
with some story about body-snatchers.

And I've apologised twice!

- I was overexcited.
- Overexcited?

It's difficult to explain,
but it was my grave.

Near your grave.
Two people were digging.

- You were right the first time.
- First time?

Two grave diggers.
You couldn't have seen what you saw.

- Marty, I know what I saw.
- It was my fault.

You shouldn't have listened to me.

They were just two
ordinary grave diggers.

Ordinary grave diggers do not lay out
people who ask their business.

You could have slipped.

What about the clothes
he was wearing?

All right, Marty.

- Let's go.
- Where are we going?

We'll buy flowers on the way.

It's all as it should be.
They've left it very tidy.

- Doesn't prove a thing.
- Come on, Jeff, it doesn't matter.

I'm not satisfied.

I'm gonna check it at the gate.

All right, then. Please yourself.

Um... thanks for the flowers.

Jeff!

- What are you doing here?
- Hello, Jeannie.

I've just left some flowers.

Oh, that's nice.

You still think a lot about Marty,
too, don't you?

He's not an easy man to forget.

Well, what are you going to do now?

I have to make a call
at the gatehouse.

I'll tell you about it on the way.

Phew, I don't understand
why it has to be so gloomy.

Forget it, Jeff. It's not worth it.

Hey, this takes me back.
Whatever you do, get one that fits.

Madam, sir...
Leonard Dighton at your service.

Mr. Dighton, we were wondering
if you could help us.

May I express my regret
at the necessity.

- No. It's not about a...
- Bereavement.

No. I mean yes.

That is, it's an old client,
Mr. Martin Hopkirk.

- 9074.
- If you say so.

I believe there's some work
going on near his grave.

Near 9074?
No, no. We're full up in that area.

I saw two people
digging there last night.

About half past one, two o'clock.

And what were you doing there
at such an hour, Mr...

Randall. This is Mrs. Hopkirk.

You still haven't
answered my question.

I couldn't sleep. I took a walk.

But what brought you here?

- Marty brought me.
- Marty?

I was thinking about him.
Business worries.

I found myself driving
in this direction.

I do assure you, Mrs. Hopkirk,
you have no cause for concern.

Look, I didn't imagine it.
I got this for my pains.

From a man in a three-cornered hat
and knee breeches.

Jeff, you didn't mention him.

The looks I've been getting,
I thought I'd better not.

Could I have a word with you,
Mrs. Hopkirk?

About 90... About Mr. Hopkirk.

Sure, why not?

Hmm. Please.

I'm easy.
Don't take all day about it.

Mr. Randall seems
a little overwrought.

He's usually very level-headed.

Yes, but ghosts.

Level-headed people
tend not to see ghosts.

It's him, Jeannie!

- What are you doing?
- The bloke who clobbered me,

- he was in the doorway.
- There's nobody here.

He must have ducked down behind
a headstone. He can't be far away.

I better go after him.
It could be that blow on the head.

Marty!

Marty! Where are you
when I really need you?

- Watch it! Don't knock me about!
- I've seen him.

- Who?
- The fellow with the clothes.

Oh, no. You're not still
going on about that, are you?

Jeff!

Jeff!

Jeff!

His name's Randall.

The woman's the widow
of an old friend. 9074.

- He's persistent.
- Isn't he?

- You were right about him coming.
- Naturally.

This further glimpse of you, coupled
with my advice to Mrs. Hopkirk,

might do the trick.

This is no way to show respect
for the dead, young man.

- He's not complaining.
- He may not be, but I am.

- You a friend of the family?
- In a manner of speaking.

I say, that's a nasty gash.

You'd better come with me.
I'll patch you up.

Thanks.

Where are we going?

Be it ever so humble.
What do you call it?

Mandrake Hall.

And this house has been in the
Mandrake family for over 300 years.

There we are.
Think that should do it.

Thanks.

It must be quite something to know
you're descended from all this.

But I wasn't. Oh, no, Mr. Randall.
I'm not even a genuine Mandrake.

I changed my name by deed poll.

From Wortlespoon. Quite
an improvement, don't you think?

Sure, but what
about the ancestral home?

I bought it. Everything.
Lock, stock and barrel.

House. Gardens.
Ancestors on the walls.

Everything.

Right down to the lavender-scented
packets of old love letters,

- tied in blue ribbon.
- You mean you're...

Exactly, Mr. Randall. I'm a fake.

An old phoney.

- It doesn't seem to worry you.
- Would it you?

I see what you mean.

I made me money out of cattle food.

The Wortlespoon Cow Cake Company.

- And in a hundred years...
- All will be forgotten.

You make no bones about it.

Why should I? I'm in
an exalted tradition, Mr. Randall.

You keep a large staff?

No, only Martha, my housekeeper.

She's an extraordinarily
capable woman.

Preserve us from capable women.

Yes, sir?

Martha, just take
these things away, will you?

- Martha.
- Yes, sir?

- Is Harry up?
- Yes, sir.

I took him his breakfast
a few minutes ago.

- Harry's my son.
- Oh.

- Breakfast? Is he ill?
- Permanently.

- I am sorry.
- Harry suffers from,

amongst other things, agoraphobia -
fear of open spaces.

Also, he abhors earning a living.
Would you like to meet him?

- He lives here from choice?
- Mmm.

- And never leaves the room?
- He has everything he needs here.

How does that grab you, man?

Harry...

Harry, this is Mr. Randall.

What's with you?
Trouble with the fuzz, man?

No, in fact some of my best friends
are policemen.

Catch the action, man.

If you don't mind, I dig Rembrandt.

Oh, come on. Rembrandt's a drag, man.
This is the new age.

The age of freedom
and action and... violence!

Violence?

Come, Mr. Randall. You'll find the
rest of the house much more peaceful.

Slow, man. Draggy.
It's that sort of a pad.

This is where it's all happening!

Ha! Like I said, action, man. Action!

Yeah.

I believe two men passed this way.
One with a plaster over his eye.

Oh, yes, miss.
He was with Mr. Mandrake.

- The owner?
- That's right. They're up there.

- Thanks a lot. Sorry to disturb you.
- Not at all, miss.

Well, thanks for showing me
round and for this.

- Not at all. Have a drink.
- Well, I should be going.

No, do have one.
I want to talk to you.

- OK. A whisky.
- With?

- Water will be fine.
- Now...

This detective agency of yours,

does it pay well?

Not by your standards.

How does 100 pounds a week appeal to you?

Regularly.

Well, that, a desert island
with Miss World along,

has been one
of my most cherished ambitions.

Cheers.

Now, you've met Harry.
What do you think he needs?

To shape him into a suitable
son and heir?

I don't know.

I don't seem to be able
to get through to him.

- You've tried, of course.
- Of course.

I mean, what more
could a son want than all this?

Well, from what I've seen of Harry,
he seems to be anti-Establishment.

He sees himself as an artist.

An artist! I ask you.

- Throwing paint at a wallboard.
- It's a school of thought.

It's no background for the
re-founding of the Mandrake dynasty.

I suppose you could say
the same thing about cattle food.

I don't seem
to be reaching you, Randall.

- I'm listening.
- You seem to be taking Harry's side.

Let's just say I can see
both sides of the fence.

Good. Then my offer was very astute.

- The job?
- Exactly.

You're a young man. You can...

You can talk to him. Make him see my
point of view. Communicate with him.

- For a hundred a week?
- Exactly.

What about his agoraphobia?

Well... like its opposite,
claustrophobia,

it's purely a state of mind.

I'd call it an illness.

Call it what you like.
Will you take the job?

- You're not serious?
- Of course I am.

You've a free apartment,
a fat salary and I'll throw in a car.

Well, it's very tempting,
Mr. Mandrake,

but no.

I've got a business
and responsibilities.

It seems you have visitors.
I won't keep you.

Life is very strange, Mr. Randall.

I seem to have the ancestors,
but not the heirs.

Excuse me, sir.
There's a Mrs. Hopkirk to see you.

Jeannie.

Oh, Jeff. At last I've found you.
What have you done to your head?

Oh... Mr. Mandrake
has played Good Samaritan.

- My partner, Mrs. Hopkirk.
- How do you do?

- How did you find me?
- Well...

first I got a lead from the cemetery.

And then one from the gardener there.

- It's him, Jeannie!
- Not again! That's the gardener.

That's Harper.
Who did you think it was?

I must have been mistaken.

This'll do fine. Wait for me here.

Jeff, wait a minute.

You... You did see something
or you thought you did.

Yeah. I'll see you later.

Jeff, please see a doctor.
That bump on your head is...

- Oh, if only Marty were here!
- Marty?

England! England!

Oh, no!

...with a ball that gave Burns
his chance and he took it.

Of course he took it!
It was a mile offside!

The referee's his brother, is he?

- The referee's blown time.
- He should be blown up.

...for the highlights of the game
and now we return you to the studio.

Still got a chance in the
second leg. They're strong away.

They are. They always play better
away and it's only one goal.

Yeah? Can I help you?

Yeah.

You can help me all right.

- What's it all about?
- What's what all about...

sir?

- I want to know what's going on.
- I wouldn't mind knowing either.

It was a shambles. They were robbed.

- Those clothes you were wearing.
- Clothes?

- That hat, those breeches.
- You're still going on about that?

- I don't know what you're on about.
- Neither do I. Come on, let's go.

- Where have you been all this time?
- The International Cup match.

- How'd you get a ticket?
- I wrote in.

- What was the score?
- We lost. Think I'll nip to Germany,

- see the replay.
- Typical! You get me into this,

- then nip off and watch football.
- I'm sorry.

I didn't know
you would start seeing things.

I was not seeing things.
The gardener was in 18th-century rig.

Don't get offended, but I think
you should see a doctor.

- You too.
- Jeannie's been at you?

You should listen to her,
she's always right.

She's had me in bed
even before I've known I've been ill.

Marty! She won't get me
seeing a doctor.

Two separate blows, you say?

That's right. Within hours.

Rough company?

Let's have a look at these.

Not too much there.

This one.

Yes. A little more there.

Quite superficial,
I would have thought.

Good, so I'm all right.

Let him decide.

I never said that, Mr. Randall.

You've gotta face facts,

- however unpleasant they may be.
- Oh, for crying out loud!

I'm sorry, Doctor.
That wasn't aimed at you.

Just came out.

Mr. Randall, would you say that you're
subject to these violent outbursts?

Violent outbursts? Of course not!

- You're behaving like an idiot.
- An idiot?

- Er, have a cigarette, Jeff.
- Jeannie, don't humour me.

I'm sorry. Thank you.

So, I'm all right, Doctor.

Good.

You didn't tell him
about the visions.

Jeff, you've forgotten to ask if
those bumps could affect your sight.

Trouble with your sight, Mr. Randall?

- No!
- Jeff, please.

Perhaps you should tell me.

All right. Could these bumps
make me see things?

Wh... what sort of things?

Like an eighteenth-century figure
in a three-cornered hat and breeches.

Oh, no. Dear me, no.

- That's what I thought.
- Wait!

I mean... Are you seeing things,
Mr. Randall?

No! I mean yes.

Only things that are there.

Like...

an eighteenth-century...

May I have a word with you alone,
Mrs. Hopkirk?

If you've got anything to say,
Doctor, say it!

Jeff.

You're in trouble.
He thinks you're violent.

Wait here for a moment, Mr. Randall.

I'll just get my nurse
to re-dress those wounds

and then we'll have
a quiet little chat about it all.

Will you be all right alone with him?

Of course she'll be all right!

Jeff.

- I don't like the look of him.
- What's he up to?

Leave it to me.

What's he up to? Don't be so
suspicious. You're never like this.

I've never been held up
as a psychopath before.

The doctor has gone to get a nurse.
It's as simple as that.

No, it isn't. He's on the phone now.

"Send me two strong men, an ambulance
and a... funny jacket."

What? I'm off!

Jeff!

Oh, Jeff, what are you doing?

- He's getting an ambulance.
- How do you know?

My dear Mrs. Hopkirk,
what a frightful experience!

He has gone?

Violent. Rambling.

Hallucinating. A dangerous man.

I must inform the police immediately.

Fantastic, isn't it?
Save me from my friends.

What have your friends
got to do with it?

You and Jeannie between you
have got the law after me.

There's only one thing for it.
I'll have to lie low.

I can't move far without
being caught by the police.

So?

So, I'll have to take
the Mandrake job.

I can't tell you
how delighted I am, Mr. Randall.

It's strictly temporary.

You might even grow to love it.

- Shall I tell him or you?
- Oh, I think you should.

It'll come as more of a shock.

You can say that again.

It's just not my scene, man.

- You're no son and heir?
- When's tomorrow?

Why stay?

I need these four walls, man.
And the roof.

Tight. Close. You know what I mean?

Be a good son and heir.
Be a Mandrake.

I see what you mean. You're between
the river and the... ultramarine.

What d'you really want to do?

- Like when?
- Like now.

Like I said, no plans.
When's tomorrow?

If you want to paint,
tell your father.

Waste of time, man!

He has all the plans.
It's all mapped out. Waste of time!

Thank you, Martha.

Anything more, sir?

No, thank you.

You can find your own way
to your room?

- Yes, I think so.
- Good.

- Then I'll say good night, sir.
- Good night, Martha.

Ah-ha! I had a feeling
you were up to something.

I'm surprised you can spare the time.

Did you break that window?

Look, I'm not imagining things.
I saw that gardener again.

He's up to something.

- What are you doing?
- Wait and see.

- OK, what about that?
- Your funny gardener?

Right. Our friend Harper.
Now do you believe me?

- It's a long way down.
- What's it all about?

I don't know. But I aim
to find out. Coming?

Is there room in there for two?

Plenty.

What is it, Jeff?

It looks like some kind
of old drain or culvert, I guess.

Which way do we go?

Well, you go that way.
I'll go that way.

On my own?

Well, you don't have
to walk the whole length.

No, I suppose not.

I'll see you.

- Jeff!
- Yeah?

Never mind.

You'll never guess
where my end comes out.

Let me see...

Where we first saw
those ordinary grave diggers?

Yes, but...

Ah-ha.

- Now we know what it's all about.
- Do we?

Yeah. This is the only way they could
get at Mandrake's son and heir.

I can't move, man. I can't move.

What's the matter with him?

It's being outside. His agoraphobia.

- What?
- Give me your coat.

- We can't leave him.
- Give me your coat.

- Abducted!
- Yes, I'm afraid so.

- What do we do now?
- You wait for the ransom note.

Did you get it?

One ransom note. For delivery.

- I can't take it.
- You can't? Why not?

They know me. I might be seen.

At this time in the morning? For...

Come on, all you have to do

- is put it through the letter box.
- No. It wouldn't be a good idea.

Really, it wouldn't.

My card.

Dighton's Funeral Parlour.

Always at your service.

Good morning.

- Everything all right?
- No, it wasn't.

You'll have to take it.

Who'd pay money for Harry?

You would.
They know you need him.

The whole thing's been
carefully set up.

Down to the phoney costumes they use
to scare anyone who catches them.

- Like you.
- Like me.

- Did you deliver the ransom note?
- Everything went perfectly.

Good, good.

Perfectly?

Martha, make some coffee, will you?

We've got some thinking to do.

Stay! Stay.

Er... sonny!

Um... would you like to earn
yourself a shilling?

Now, you take this envelope

and you put it through the door
of the big house, you understand?

All right, then. There you go.

Oh.

Hey!

Do we just wait
or can we do something?

It depends how far away
they're keeping him.

Well, so far so good, gentlemen.

We've still gotta
get you clear, Harry.

Your father'll turn the area
upside down for his son and heir.

Crazy. How do you get me out?

We've designed
something special for you.

Small, but well-furnished quarters.

Crazy, man. Crazy.

All right, Mr. Randall.
I'll give you twelve hours.

- Then you'll go to the police?
- Mmm. D'you think you can find him?

I do have some
pretty unusual resources.

And certain limitations.

- You mean the police are after me?
- Exactly.

You can forget about that.

I've persuaded Dr. Cholmond
the condition is temporary.

And you calculated I'd be here?

It seemed an even-money bet.

I'm very sorry about your son,
Mr. Mandrake.

So am I, my dear. Though I'm not
worried about his health or safety.

The whole experience will
probably do him the world of good.

Kill or cure for his agoraphobia.

Whatever happens, he'll see
something of the outside world.

- Are you quite comfortable?
- Snug as a bug, man.

Harper, give me a hand.

- Can you breathe?
- Yeah. Crazy.

36 beautifully concealed air holes.

Perhaps you'd better get changed.

- All clear, Marty?
- Yes, all clear.

Not a thing.

There must be something
that'll give us a lead.

Not so much as a torn button.

D'you think Harry's in danger?

Well, Mandrake's got
the ransom note for 5,000 pounds.

That's not very much.

They're not playing for high stakes
so they won't play it rough. Come on.

Crazy, man.

Perhaps you should
call the police in now.

- You're not backing out?
- No, but I'm busy.

- What time's the kickoff?
- Three o'clock.

Come on, we'll get the car.

I can hardly hoot a hearse, can I?

Not a full one, anyway.

- Jeff.
- What?

- The cemetery's back there.
- So?

Why is he driving away
from the cemetery?

Perhaps he's gonna pick someone up.

Why is it covered with flowers
and wreaths?

I don't know, you're the expert.

Come on, let's get past him,
see who's driving it.

- Why don't you let him pass?
- Let him wait.

No respect for the dead.

- What?
- It's Randall.

You were right.
It must be Harper and Dighton.

They seem to have the speed.

What's going on, man?

You're not going?

There's not much I can do here
and it is... five to three.

- Ten to.
- And...

Marty!

Thank 'ee very much, Farmer Giles.

What's the score?

Eh?

It's a lovely day for it.

'Now from Germany,

'the second leg of that close-fought
International Cup.'

'About time, too.
Where've you been?'

'The teams...'

When you run out of leads,
start again at the beginning.

Hmm.

He didn't put up
much of a fight, did he?

Harry? You're joking!

- What's that?
- Plaster, I think.

Jeannie, look at those marks.

- So what? I don't understand.
- Don't you? Look.

The work on this wall
was done from the inside.

- By Harry?
- Who else?

He was in it with them.

To squeeze his dad out of five grand.

Why didn't he just ask for the money?

Well, he had plans, man.
Would have been a waste of time. Dig?

So, Harry was part of it, eh?

I wouldn't have thought
he'd had it in him.

Must be the entrepreneurial blood
in his veins.

You don't seem very worried.

No, Mr. Randall. I'm not.

Surely after what's happened you
can't possibly be happy about...

leaving all of this to Harry?

I don't intend to, my dear.

You've given up any idea
of re-founding the family fortunes?

Not at all.
I have a little news for you.

Martha! Darling.

It will be a very short engagement.

Martha's ambition is to fill
the house with children.

I intend to give her
every assistance.

Hard luck, Harry.

Not a word about it.

That means they haven't
told the police.

I suppose that's a good sign.

We can't live forever
in a parked hearse.

What's this?

- They told the police?
- Worse.

Worse?

"Mandrake, Watson. The engagement is
announced of George Henry Mandrake

"to Martha Watson.

"The marriage will
take place without delay."

You never reckoned with Martha!

Thank you.

My guess is that Harry's day
is very nearly done.

Such an obvious move, I wonder
I didn't think of it sooner.

Pity you weren't there.

- Sorry, Jeff. I was busy.
- Oh, yeah.

It was a hard match.
We only one by the odd goal.

They wouldn't have
done it without you.

- Right.
- Marty?

D'you know that bit
where the German centre forward

had beaten the English defence. It
was an open goal. He shot. It went...

- Over the top.
- Yeah.

- You didn't?
- I did.

- You're as irresponsible as Harry.
- Harry?

Harry Mandrake.

Oh. Did they ever hear from him?

No. But they will.

I don't think so.
I think he's frightened.

He's probably holding a job down.

What? He'd sooner be buried alive.

Free.

Free at last, man.

And with wages.

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