All language subtitles for The Professionals - 3x02 - Backtrack

24. What?

That's 24 you've lit up
since 5 this morning.

You know, your mouth
must be like an ashtray.

Seen too many Clint Eastwood movies.

Well?

Nothing, sir.

Neither in nor out for
two and a half days.

And no phone calls.

But they're still in there.

Not even a flea squeezed out. Of
course, they could have rumbled us.

They're still sitting
in this stuff, must be.

Yeah, if it was in
there to start off with.

It's in there, all right? Yes, sir.

Whatever you say, sir.

Any chance of a relief team, sir? I
mean, it's been two and a half days now,

you know. Right, then. We'll go in.

Just two of you. Bodie and Doyle.

Bodie and Doyle are going in.

Stand by, cover them. Understood.

Standing by. Okay, move.

Listen, you two, alive.

I want them alive, easy with those damn
things. Clint Eastwood, eh? What? Nothing,

sir, just wishing them luck.

So what are you waiting
for, printed invitation?

Oh, I'm a moot. I'm a moot.

Looks okay now.

We didn't fire a shot,
sir. They just keeled over.

Anyone else? No.

Incendiary and demolition.

One of the new marks. American.

Napalm and HE.

Only they didn't have time to prime it.
They intended to blot out the place. And us.

It's carrying keenness
a bit far, isn't it?

Heroin.

That's a new factor.

Prussic acid.

Looks like they went
out on suicide tablets.

Fanatics. Madmen.

Cheeks of all sorts.

I'll go in there and see
what you can find, buddy.

Well?

Clean as a whistle.

So they didn't use their stuff.

Didn't need to. They had
their cause to keep them high.

Why bring their cause to London?
We're a bargain basement, Paul.

You can buy anything here.
Stop! I was so damn tolerant.

It takes a massacre to
get it off our backs.

Here they are, sir.

Look, Brad, you...

And expensive. Very, very expensive.

If there's more in the other crates,

we're talking several thousand
quids worth in this room alone.

Counter-terrorist
intelligence estimates that

this is only one of
several dumps in London.

What are they trying to do, start World
War III? It's worth a fortune, though.

They're big and dangerous, this bunch.

They're highly organized execution squads.

This stuff doesn't come into
the country in dribs and drabs.

It's a well-oiled operation, massively
financed and papered with untraceable funds.

Hiding in the corner,
expecting to get thumped?

Come on, Sammy, you know better
than that. No problem, your lot.

I was chased by a pair of Arabs. Hello,
Mr Garford. How are you, Gav? Oh, Billy.

Hey, keep it down in there, all right?

Come on, Billy, let's have you. Come on.

Like you, is it? Get
rumbled on the job, good cat man.

They were killers, Mr. Garbutt.

I trod right in it.

Yes, right in it, son.

Buckets full with your form.

Coley.

I see you were. How many dead?
Easy. Well, keep them alive.

And Alex, get Bodie and
Doyle round to my house now.

All right, on my way.

Any idea what the time
is? Try not to think.

Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it.

Yeah. It'd be nice to get eight hours
sleep on the trot for once, wouldn't it?

Not that you'd use it
for sleeping, of course.

Oh, I would.

Nothing I like better than
curling up in bed with a good book.

Glad to hear you've been spending
your spare time so profitably, Dorham.

Good morning, sir.

We'll go in my car.

Where are we going?

A nice trip into the country.

Eccleston Manor.

Oh, champagne breakfast.

There are five Arabs bleeding
all over the lawn at the manor.

So what were they doing after
midnight at an English stately home?

Sounds as if they've been ambushed.
And we've no idea who they might be?

I've got ideas, all right, but no proof.

What I want to find out is where
all these weapons are coming from.

Look, sir, I am very sorry.

I'm only trying to... But
they fall in the drums, do they?

Come on!

I'm going to see my... Don't
put him in the interview room.

Lock him in a cell. Wait for the
inspector. Just because they bought half London,

they think they own the rest.

Now, come on, Sammy.
Let's have a statement, eh?

I'm tired and I'm hungry.

What's the matter with you?

He's an Arab.

Well, I don't know, I suppose
so. What's he been clubbing on?

Drunk and disorderly.

Joking garbage.

What?

Drunk and disorderly, an Arab.

Well, he's high on something. I
don't know. What's he on about?

Hey, come on, you're
wasting time. Sit down.

I'll get another cup of tea.

Right, go.

Now, come on, Sammy, let's get on
with it. You give me a statement,

then I can go home. And
remember, you were caught

on the hop. No argument, no deals, right?

And I'm bloody tired. Tell him, Mr Garvey.

I'll tell an auto-inspector to it.

I've got to see him. It's important.

You're trying to pull
something, aren't you?

Look, you know me as well as you know
Truett. I've pulled you off enough,

haven't I? Listen, you've got
something to say, give it to me. No, wait.

You've got no rank.

All that's something big to
spill. What are you on about?

I want to see Inspector Truett now.

Sergeant.

If Mr Bladen requests an
interview with a more senior

police officer, then
we... Who the hell are you?

...are in our power to
accommodate him, mustn't we?

Who is this man?

My name is Pullman, Peter
Pullman, of Pullman, Sinclair,

Dorset and Pullman solicitors,
and Mr Bladen's legal advisers.

I've spoken to the desk sergeant.
What? You're going to represent him?

Yes.

And now, if I could have a
private chat with my client.

Perhaps in the meantime you could
get hold of Inspector Truitt for us.

I can't afford you. No.

Not in a million years, Sammy.

So what happened to George Mooney?

He always takes care of me. An East End
hack isn't going to be much help this time.

They want to throw the book at you
this trip, won't they? So who sent you?

Who do you think?

Marjorie?

Good old Marge.

She has to look after me.
She has to, doesn't she?

Now, to business.

First off, I don't want to stay here.

With your record, Sammy, bail is not
going to be easy. Oh, don't worry about that.

I'm not safe here.

That's safe.

Oh, I don't think the police
would dare to lay a hand on you. Oh,

don't worry about the cops.

I'm not going down those cells, not here.

You're looking after my welfare.

Well, why, you see to it.

I'm not leaving this room
till Inspector Truitt gets here.

Delta 5, Juliet Delta 5, Channel
5, other cars, Juliet 1, MP over.

That's origin
information at 2-0-2-1, MP over.

9-0 Parabellum.

Looks like new stuff must be with German.

They sprayed enough of their stuff
around, didn't they? Yeah, well,

they're trying to make
a point, aren't they?

I think they made it. The one they
wounded said there were three attackers,

all with submachine guns.

You know, if they're going to argue, why
can't they do it in their own backyards?

Fair enough for this kind of thing
happening across the Irish Sea. You know,

it's going to get worse
before it gets better, isn't it?

Unless we get to the money, mate.

Ah, politics.

Whatever happened to the good
old round table, eh? I mean,

you can't talk and shoot
at the same time, can you?

Whatever happened to the UN and
the good old conference table?

It ran out when 9 mil Parabellum came in.

And that's that.

He didn't tell us
anything we didn't know already.

The usual terrorist battle. Coulter.

What is it?

An Inspector Truett, Met,
South Kent. Another attack?

No, it's information this time. CTI
referred him. He'll only speak to you.

Hello, this is Carly. What is it,
Inspector? Oh, I'm sorry to trouble you, sir,

but I think this could be
urgent. The CTI sent me.

Yes, go on. Well, we picked up an
ex-con last night, name of Sammy Blayden.

He's a cat man. Old school, but still
very good. I've known him for years.

He's cool, professional, and
he's not so cool right now.

Get to it, Inspector. I'm up to
my ears in trouble here. Well,

it seems he's stumbled on some
information. It scared the daylights out of him.

I think he's playing it straight, sir.

He wants to do a deal, of course,

but I believe you might want to do
business with him. All right, what's he got?

Well, I don't think it's wise
to pass it over the phone, sir.

Did CTO tell you what I'm working on?
Yeah, they hinted. And this is relevant?

I'd say so. I'll send one of my
boys. No, sir. Sammy won't have that.

You see, he's read about you and...
What do you mean, Sammy won't have that?

Who the hell does he think he
is? It's big, sir. Really big.

It's worth the effort. It had
better be, Truett. Half an hour.

Alex, check out one Samuel
Augustus Blayden, will you?

Small-time villain,
Londoner, plenty of form.

Oh, and Alex, while you're about it,

get me all the background you can
on Frank David Truitt, T-R-U-I-T-T.

Detective Inspector with the Met.

Right?

If this is a fool's errand... Hang
on, sir, something coming through.

Yeah, go ahead.

Yeah, yeah, got it.

Yeah, thank you.

This is Truett, sir. An old-style cop
who worked his way up from the beat.

Good record. What about
this pet criminal of his?

Samuel Thomas Bladen.

Habitual criminal, been in and
out of the nick all his life.

This is the last bit of fresh air
he'll enjoy if he's wasting my time.

They'll try anything. Yeah,
who goes gunning for a cat man?

Clear-handed metropolitan Nick.

What did Anson get off our two bodies?

Ah, nothing, sir, not a thing.

Clothes from a chain store, labels
turn off, no documents, no papers,

no identification, no rings, nothing.

Lab report just says...

Two males, Middle Eastern origin,
mid-thirties. Same every time. Cause of death,

prussic acid. Either that or they blow
their heads off with a stick of jelly.

They run around armed with an
arsenal of first-class weapons,

involving us and half
the coppers in Europe

in their squabbles,
and we can't nail them.

Nothing, Sammy, nothing. I thought
I saw something falling. Nothing.

Yeah, if you say so. Look,
Sammy, if you're pulling one over me,

I'm sticking my neck
right under the blade.

He's the hard man we're gonna see.

Hard and powerful. Yeah,
so are those two gorillas.

A pair of nightmares.

Complete mis-shooters.

Creeping hell, I lost ten
years of growth last night.

Says you're right.

Here, are you shooting?
Nothing, Sammy. I've been watching.

I've seen him in better moods.

Oh, exactly.

Even if he was due, it wouldn't be the
day to ask him for a rise, would it?

Hey, wait a minute, it is due. Eh?

The rise.

What?

Three weeks ago.

Oh, forget it. I've still got a
month-old expense sheet he hasn't signed yet.

Ah, here they come.

Get down, you fool! Get down!

Over there! Get him!

Alive!

Can you see him? No, he's
got to be high. There he is.

¶¶ Breathe!

You okay?

Did you get a stoppage? It's
always happening with these weapons.

They're supposed to be reliable. Hey.

Thanks.

That's a nice piece of hardware.

Looks purpose-built to me. Take a few
weekly installments to buy this one.

Where you going?

Looks Middle Eastern.

Label's torn off.

No documents, usual story. Well!

Nothing.

And he's dead.

Oh, great!

I should have let him kill you.

The one tangible thing we
know is that Sammy Bladen

had information that cost him his life.

He passed it on to Truett,
and the inspector died too.

A word of burnt-out old lanket,
vital information about terrorists.

He was picked up in a fashionable suburb.
He'd just done a job, maybe several jobs.

Maybe he found something, saw something
in one of the houses he'd just turned over.

An arm's cut?

In a high rental area, if
possible, we're going to find out.

We've got to backtrack. What
did Sammy do? Where had he been?

Who did he see? He's a pro, sir. He's
going to cover his tracks. Go on, cover them.

You took your time.

We've been here ten minutes.

Sorry, sir.

You know, I've got this itch.

And I can't scratch it yet.

You know what that means? It means no
one's going to get much rest till I do.

Attage tells me we might be
on the verge of a real break.

A raid on the Leicester
Road place, the shootout,

Inspector Truett, Sammy
Bladen. That's the route.

Find the links. Backtrack.

Backtrack.

Just there, that's when we picked him up.

It's a muse, dead end.
Did he give any trouble?

No, he never did. He's scared, of course.

But what?

I was going to say, most villains
get panicky when you nick them.

But that wasn't Sammy's form. I mean,
he was more philosophical about it,

regarding being nicked as an
occupational hazard. And this time?

No, it was jittery, dead jittery.

The two beat officers said when they
spotted him, he had his arms over his head.

They said we were going to do him over.

Has he ever done over by you lot?

No.

You know what he means.

Yeah, I know what he means.

Sammy wasn't like that. You
didn't have to use force with him.

I told you, he's more
philosophical about it.

Well, last night was different.

Yeah.

So?

Well, he was definitely more panicky.

Panicky?

Yeah, we had a foreign
geezer in here on a D&D.

He burst into that room
over there and Sammy went

as white as a sheep. What sort of foreign?

Middle Eastern. Arab, probably.

Well, there's a lot of them about.
You still got him? Of course I have,

and he went up before the
beat this morning. Fine 20 quid.

He had a lot of money on him. We'll
need his name, address, fact sheet,

anything you got. Charlie?

Yeah? Get us that file on the D&D.

Which one? The Arab, last night.

That's a pretty classy area. Yeah, a
millionaire's ghetto. Aristocrats,

American businessmen. That's why
we put foot patrols on over there.

Surely someone's screaming by now.
I mean, this is quite good quality.

Someone must have reported a
break-in. Yeah, it's good quality.

It's not exceptional.

I mean, that was Sammy's M.O.

He'd never nick the obvious glittery bits.

He'd get the stuff he could flog easy.

Shouldn't be a tall surprise if the
owners don't even know they've been done yet.

What about his known associates?

No, he was a loner.

How do you know?

Because he had a pad on
the patch I used to work.

Only one other person knew him
better than me. Inspector Truett. Yeah.

Wrong.

Every professional thief's got a
pet fence. Who handled this stuff?

Look, I can't... What?

She's a very valuable grass. One of your
own divisional officers has been killed.

I bloody know that son. I've
just had to tell his missus.

So?

Marjorie Harper.

She looked after all his stuff for years.

All right, let's go and see them.
It's not gonna be easy, I tell you,

not at all easy.
Nothing ever is for us, mate.

Oh, I know this place.

Then leave your hubcaps and
take the car. As bad as it looks.

Up-and-coming area, this is.

You could have told me.

What is it?

Don't know. I think we've been
tabbed ever since we left the station.

You'll have been tabbed, all right.

She'll know we're coming.

Marge!

Marge?

This one here's Elf, and
that one's called Herbert.

Marge's own personal Berlin wall.

Nobody gets past them.

Oh, nice.

Very nice indeed.

Hello, Marge.

These aren't your lot, are they, George?

No, no. Different brand.

What are they after?

Sammy Blayden snuffed it.

I heard.

They want to know who fingered him.

They're keen, you see, very
keen, but muscle-bound with it.

All flesh, no brains.

So you brought them here?

I had to.

Good-looking one, this. I bet the birds
are just putty in your hands, aren't they?

Well, that's Maury's department.

Oh, no.

I mean, you've got something.

I spotted it right
off, and I'm very fussy.

You've got something.

You'd better come in.

Well, I'm off back to the station.

I'll leave you boys to
Marge's tender mercies.

Thanks, George.

Little drink, eh?

How special. I concocted it myself.

Marge is lightning.

Gin rum and green chartreuse.

Very sexy.

Well.

What's your name, sunshine?

I'm Doyle, and he's Bodie.

Do you know my line of business?

Well... I expect Garber to have told you.

I'm a dealer, and I'm not
very fussy who I deal with.

I get busted now and then, but...

I'm very useful to them,
and they go easy on me.

Now, that's public knowledge.

Anything else, and
we've got to come to terms.

Yeah, we need a bit of help, you see.

Oh, I could help you, lover.

Anything for you.

Uh, but you got the one who did Sammy in.

Yeah, uh, but only the
one who pulled the trigger.

I've been dealing with Sammy for years,
and he didn't deserve that poor little runt.

Anyway, he wasn't big enough for it.

Yeah, well, you see,
Sammy discovered something.

And whatever it was, it was
important enough to send a gunman after him,

no matter what the risk.
Something he told Inspector Truett.

Something he saw or heard last night.

Yes, he was working last night.

Do you know where, Maude?

Of course I know.

Of course I know where he was last night.

Difficult life, woman on her own.

I've always had to make my own way,

and I've got through four
husbands in the process.

The third was a ponce.

Very pretty, but,
well, a ponce just to say.

He wanted to send me out onto
the streets to tart for him.

You'd have made a fortune, Marge.

Ah.

That's one of the nicest
compliments that anyone's ever paid me.

I always like to pick my
own gentlemen friends.

You see, I'm very discerning.

What's that?

I'm just making some notes.

No notes.

You know, I haven't made up my mind about
you yet, sonny boy. Pretty enough, yes,

but you've got shifty eyes.

Discerning I may be, but I'm
putting my head on a block for you.

You sure he's all right?

Yeah, yeah, he's all right, lad.

All right, then, but no notes.

No notes.

I set up two jobs for Sammy last night.

Very smart. Sammy
liked doing smart places.

Top civil servants, industrialists,
diplomats' homes. He made a speciality of them.

24, Baymar Terrace.

The London home of Sir Lionel
Labberton. Industrialist. Munitions dealer.

Munitions?

Hmm. Sells everywhere. His wife keeps
some very nice stuff around the house.

Good alarm system, though.

You can see where I've marked all
the wired-up doors and windows.

For a pro like Sammy,
it was a piece of cake.

Where did you get this, Marge?

You mind your own business.

You know, I'm still
not sure about him yet.

Believe me, Marge, you can trust him.

Well, if you say so, dear.

Only if you say so.

What about the second job?

Ah, now that was just around the corner.

It's heavily closed for a diplomat.

You know, they never think
they're going to get done.

They always imagine that
they're immune or something.

Again, good wiring.

But he's got some holes in it. You can
see where I've marked them off to show Sammy.

What have you done on both?

What time has he nicked?

Around 2am.

Oh, yes, he'd have done them both.

Which one would he have done first?

Oh, I've no idea. He
would have pleased himself.

He would have been watching
for the lights to go out.

Oi, clear off, you!

I don't know.

You must be joking.

I mean, why would a big-time
diplomat and a millionaire industrialist

bother to gun down an
insignificant little thief like Sammy?

Why would they go to the bother?

I don't know, Marge, but there's
got to be some connection. Marge.

Better get a rundown on both of them.

You've got troubles, love.

What sort of troubles?

You've got a tail. A couple of very
nasty-looking gents in a car outside.

I knew it.

Well, do you want my boys to fix them?

No, no, Mars, just leave them alone, OK?

All right, if you say so, love.

But if you go the way of
Sammy, I should be very upset.

Thank you.

Nice boys like you are few and
far between. Louts are everywhere.

Go away.

Get back!

Turn the engine off.

What? Turn the engine off
or call the bomb squad.

37 to Alpha.

Sir, Miller's back.

When did he get here?

Arrived at Heathrow
about half an hour ago.

Says he'll meet you as
arranged in 40 minutes.

Right. Out.

Good to see you, Miller.

Hi, Mr. Cowley. Thanks for getting
here so quickly. I appreciate it.

How was Africa? Uh, chaotic as ever.

Profitable chaos for you, no doubt.

Bodie's still alive, then. I wanted
to put money on that a few years ago.

He wasn't working for me then.

He told you what I'm after.
Yeah, no matter it's what you want.

How do you tell me? You're talking
about small arms, right? Correct.

Well, in the last three
months, I've set up three deals.

One for a guy called Joel
McKenzie, a yank. What was in the package?

Machine guns, anti-tank guns.

Anti-personnel mines, mortars. The buyer?

Cuban exiles, guys with
more money than sense.

Another was for Sir Arnold Laverton.

Yeah, I thought that might make waves.

No, even a roundabout sort
of wave. That I can believe.

Big deal, that was.

Mostly 9mm light automatic
stuff. Some heavier shooters,

but mostly 9mm. Who was the other party?

Well, I was just the contact.

Laverton wanted them to
sell to someone else.

He was approached, but he doesn't
manufacture that sort of stuff. He's big league.

But not too big to make a few bobs
on the side, eh? Who is, Mr Cowley?

Who is?

You mentioned three deals, I think.

Arab, Abdi Khalil.

Tell me about Mr. Khalil. I don't
think he's your man, Mr. Khalil.

The guns never came into this
country. Are you sure? Well,

sure as you can be about anything.

I set up the deal with a
Swiss-French consortium.

The arms were shipped
straight out to the Persian Gulf.

I bet money they never went any further.

I see.

And that's it.

Sorry I can't help you any more.

Oh, that's all right.

You'll be very helpful.
Any time, Mr Cowling.

Ah, it's nice to see old London again.

Truett's family?

Yes, sir. I'm godfather to this one.

Sad business.

Yes.

His desk untouched?

Notes, everything?

Yes, sir.

The Arab gentleman, the one
on the drunk and disorderly,

I gather he's disappeared. Yes, he has.

When they locked him up,
any more bother? No, sir,

I just thought he was sleeping it off.

Case notes and Sammy.

Uh-huh.

Peter Pullman.

Pullman, Sinclair, Dorset... Sammy
Solicitor has bid up market for someone like him.

Yeah, I thought that. A lot of villains
come in with fancy lawyers these days.

Look him up. I'd like to know a
wee bit more about him. Right, sir.

Narrow squeak, lads.
Have they saved the car?

Yeah.

Don't think we'll be putting
in for the bomb squad, though.

What have you got from the two
break-ins? Oh, the arms man, Laverton.

He's got a clean sheet, but
there have been suspicions

of sanctions busting
round about deliveries,

the usual fiddles, you know,
buying political influence.

Hmm?

And the other one?

Oh, Kabil Kamami.

Had trouble with that lot
ever since the Yom Kippur War.

All we got on him personally is
he gets around a lot, gambles.

I think he likes the social scene here.

Well, let's hope he'll be
out socialising tonight.

I want you two to do a
Sammy on him, on both of them.

You'll have to get into
both places unofficially. Eh?

You are joking, aren't you?
Sammy's a professional. Yeah,

and Sammy's a bit dead just now. So
you'll just have to be a little more careful.

Breaking and entering?
Just entering. You don't have

to break anything. Oh,
look, I don't think so.

And keep your eyes open.

Oh, it's not as difficult as it sounds.

Your girlfriend will set it up for you.
Wish you wouldn't call her that, sir.

From what I gather, Doyle, Marjorie
Harper won't let any harm come to you.

Look, sir, I do think this is a
job for an experienced catman.

Yes, but unfortunately, I don't
have too many catmen in my squad body.

We have to get into those two houses.

I have to know what it was that Sammy saw.

You have to get in
quickly, quietly, and find it.

I don't think we're the right men for the
job, sir. Yeah, they've rumbled us, sir.

I mean, they tried to splatter
us across London. Absolutely.

Now, they'll be wearing a couple of
tails, sir. They've had one go at us already.

As soon as they find out we're
alive, they'll be after us again.

Now, we can cope with that,
providing we get a clear run.

I'll look after your bombers. I'll run an
intercept squad and keep your back free.

You'll get your clear run.

Very reassuring. Go on.

Go and see Marjorie.

Get it teed up.

Well, I'd just like to say, Brad, don't
go for this at all. I'll make a note of it.

Oh, well, while you're
making a note of that,

perhaps you could find the
moment to sign my expense sheet.

Yes, yes. What are you doing?

Just calling Lewis Marriott,
Interceptor Squad. They're standing by.

They know the routine for
this sort of job. Put it down.

You heard what I said.

They can't go on this caper
with a pair of bomb-happy

uglies on their tail. They have to.

You're setting them up, sir.

You said you'd give them a clear run.

I've got to draw the opposition, Anson.

Draw them right out.

Even if I do have to
set up Bodie and Doyle.

Do you have to take those things?

Afraid so much.

Shooters.

I hate them.

I'm not mad about them myself.

Just you take care of my
boy. Do you hear me, Bodie?

I'll nurse him like his mother.

Yeah, yeah.

Let's just talk about
Sammy's technique, shall we?

Right.

Cupboards and drawers,
that's all he went for.

Don't touch any safes or strong boxes.

Don't lift any pictures or ornaments.
They're mostly wired to the alarms.

Only go through the
windows, I've indicated.

All the others have got
magnetic switches to them.

And look out for pressure
pads under the carpets.

It took Sammy all his
life to learn all this.

Oh, we'll manage. I wish I
had your blind faith, mate.

Do Laverton's place first. They've
gone to the city to a reception.

It doesn't finish till 1.

Yeah, well, let's hope
they don't get bored.

Then do Kamami's.

Well, he's going out too, is he?

Oh, charming.

No, but he's a drinker.

He drinks like a fish. He's
usually senseless by about 11 o'clock,

and then he sleeps like the
dead. All the staff are at the back.

Marge, Muslims don't drink.

Not in public, but in his residence,
this one drinks like there's no tomorrow.

Just our luck for him to
get a conscience tonight.

You know, Sammy was very good. I don't
expect that Labrador to knock them on me,

even though they've been done yet.

I bet that they're not
even... Oh, one of them knows.

It's time.

I hope you boys are
getting well paid for all this.

Sore point.

Come on, hurry up, mate.

What? Marge said Sammy could open
one of these in four seconds flat.

We've been up here a fortnight.

Yeah, well, I'm not Sammy.

I'm not Ruffles either.
This is not my line, you know.

I think they're quite within their
rights to shoot burglars, aren't they?

Cupboard and drawers. OK.

I wish to hell I knew
what I was looking for.

Bloody hell.

What? What is it?

They didn't go to the party.

Is that him?

Yes, sir, that's him. Peter
Pullman, Sammy's solicitor. Had to be.

He's the one who made
you get Inspector Truett.

No, Sammy asked for him first. He
wouldn't talk to me. He asked for Truett.

But Sammy had some information.

He wanted to do a deal.

So he could have talked
to Pullman about that.

Yeah, I suppose he could.

So Pullman could have known
about my rendezvous with Truett.

Yes, he could have done,
but Marge sent him. Did she?

Feed that through the
computer, will you, Argent?

I'm looking for a link
between Peter Pullman and

either Sir Lionel
Laverton or Kabil Kamami.

Yes, sir.

Maybe Pullman's done some
work for one of Sir Lionel's

companies or represented
someone at Kamami's embassy.

I bet my pension they'll
come up with something.

Able 1 to Chaucer, over. Roger,
Chaucer, this is Able 1, over.

Just on the Laverton place, as far as we
can tell, it's all clear. Got it all clear.

Pass that through to Cowley, will you?

Listen, Doyle, I can't do that.

I've lost radio contact with him
for the last 25 minutes. Listen,

don't miss us about Anthony
Terry out here. Straight up, Doyle,

I don't know where he is.

His last message was to proceed
as planned, over. Right, I mean,

that's really great.
Another thing, you're bombers.

The interceptor squad isn't
there. There's no one to cut them out.

Beautiful. Well, don't you cut
out, handsome, over and out.

I don't like the look of that place.

Yeah, well, you know
what they say, don't you?

First one's difficult,
the rest is plain sailing.

Yes, mate. But now we know that that
one's the prize package, don't we? Yeah, well,

let's get it over and done with, shall we?

It's the Arab.

They met four years ago. A
pullman set up a currency deal for him.

It's Kamami's place.

They're already there, sir.
Do we bust in? Can't. Not yet.

Diplomatic territory.

I'm waiting for clearance.
In the meantime, we stand by.

Sorry to drag you away.
It's all right, I've got it.

Not a great business.

Look at this.

Buy a lot of guns with this lot.

Raffles.

Breaking and entering, two nights in a
row, really. It's too bad. You know,

the increase in crime is very worrying.

Even diplomatic residences appear to
be no longer immune from intruders.

They're not when you've got a
dope factory in the pantry.

Finish them. Now. Are you
crazy? It's the logical place.

Not in my house.

I'm sorry, sir, but there
was a disturbance reported.

We thought we'd better come right in.

I told you to look after him.

I'm all right, honestly.

My ambassador will make a
formal protest, I can assure you.

Your ambassador is probably up to
his ears in this business, Mr. Kamami.

He'll be far too busy answering
questions from our people to do any protesting.

But I think he'll leave you and Pullman
to carry the can for this little lot.

About 20 quid a pop in the
open market for this mutt.

That represents a lot of guns
and ammunition for your gunmen.

No heroin, no money, no arms.

Q.E.D., Mr. Kamami.

All nice and businesslike.

Contacts, cover names and addresses.

Our anti-terrorist mob are going
to have a field day, aren't they?

Didn't get far, sir. Got friends outside.

The inimitable Marjorie
Harper. How do you know?

I phoned her earlier.

Wanted to ask her about the
lawyer she got for Sammy Bladen.

She never heard of Pullman,
Sinclair, Dawson and Pullman.

I expect that set her worrying.

Where's Doyle?

I think he's in love, sir.

Rape, baby, you'll bleed.

I know.

Look, I've got to go now.
I've got to make my report.