Original subtitles

From there the gold goes up to brown deck.

That accounts for the armoured trucks sitting on top.

Yes. It's a consignment for the night flight to Zurich.

Pretty cool down here.

Air conditioning.

It's maintained at a steady 60.

Ready? - Yeah, lead on.

This is the first of the pair of doors.

You stand in front of this panel, and the operator inside can see you.

- MAN: All right, Mrs Gale. - I'm bringing Mr Steed in with me.

MAN: Righty-ho.

Now, our pictures are being recorded on film, just in case.

Smart.

- There's another check. - Why?

In case someone slipped in behind me.

- I see. - Mr Groves?

MR GROVES: OK, Mrs Gale.

HE WHISTLES

How much is it all worth?

- Like to guess? - Huh, couldn't even begin.

- Three million pounds. - It's really...

- Be careful. It's heavy. - Yeah.

How many men would it take to remove the lot?

Six.

Are you sure?

Positive. I've got it all planned.

MAN: There's a Mr Steed to see you, Sir.

- Show him in. - Very good, Sir.

JOHN: Thank you.

Mr Spagge, it's very kind of you to see me.

Charming place you got here.

That's good. Mrs Spagge?

- Sit down, Mr Speed. - Steed.

Thank you very much.

JOHN SIGHS JOHN: Throat?

Heart. Angina.

I'm sorry.

Amyl nitrite, you, er, crush it in a handkerchief and sniff.

It's a last resort.

- JOHN: Interesting. - Is it?

I find other people's illnesses a bore.

I've got a proposition for you.

Do you want me to go on?

When I don't say anything, it means go on.

When I've heard enough, you'll be in no doubt.

It's a robbery, large one, very large. Gold.

Three to four million pounds worth.

I need someone to help me, somebody to do the job, really.

I can line it all up and see that

everybody knows what they've got to do, perfectly easily.

I have a contact. She's a woman.

She's a member of the bullion company.

She has free access to the vaults, it's a sitting duck.

HE SCOFFS Only the actual robbery,

that's why I need you, to effect the introductions.

Before that, of course, we will come to some financial arrangement,

Three million!

Well, that'll keep anybody happy, wouldn't it?

She's a Mrs Gale,

employed by the company a long time, years, in fact.

- And Mr Speed, would you press... - Steed.

..the bell?

'Course, yeah.

HE RINGS BELL

- You rang, Sir? - Show him out, Fleming.

This way, Sir.

You're not interested?

What's wrong? It's a sitting duck. - Just one thing wrong, Mr Steed.

- What's that? - You're 15 years too late.

WOMAN ON TAPE: 'Sovereigns have no serial numbers.

'And royal gold bars have mint marks stamped on them.

'Mint marks.

'It's only a few seconds' work to shave them off.

'Because gold and currencies backed by gold

'are the foundation of the international credit,

'we can only tell what the strength of the pound is

'by knowing the amount of backing we have behind our currency.'

CATHERINE: Enter the chancellor.

'The United States has the greatest gold reserve in the world,

'approximately 5,710,000 pounds' worth.

'More than half of this is at Fort Knox.

'The gold is in standard mint bars.'

How much the bars weigh?

Oh, Steed, no one's ever going to ask me that.

You know what they'll ask?

Four hundred troy ounces, and they measure

six and three-quarters by three and a half

by one and three-quarter inches. - Value?

Five thousand pounds. And at Fort Knox,

there are 800,000 of them weighing 8,800 tons.

Satisfied? - Yes.

You're becoming a proper slave driver.

I've got my whip upon the kitchen table.

WOMAN OVER TAPE: 'In 1946 was to restrict gold import

'throughout the Indian sub-continent

'and so raised the price of gold which reflected double its level

'on the free market, exactly double.'

The Bretton Woods managerial agreement

pegged the price of gold at 35 American dollars per ounce, $35.

So with one fell swoop, the Indian government

issued an unwritten invitation... - JOHN: Very smart.

Issued an unwritten invitation to every gold smuggler in the business.

End of tape two. Where have you been?

- Been to see Spagge. - Oh, really?

- JP Spagge. - Good old JP.

- You don't know him? - No.

It's before your time.

It's a little late for flattery.

He calls himself a crime broker.

What do you mean by that?

He's a sort of entrepreneur of crime.

If you wanted to commit a robbery and didn't know how to go about it,

you went to see him.

For a cut of the cake, he fixed it all up for you.

He has a dossier on all the criminals in the country.

After that, he'd get rid of the stuff for you, for another cut.

Naturally.

"Dropping the poppy," as they say.

Nice little racket.

Do you remember the Bloemfontein diamonds robbery?

Oh, yes. Granny used to talk about it.

Well, Spagge was in his element then.

Five years, he was king of the underworld.

- What's he done since? - He's hung up his gloves.

Or so he likes you to believe.

- But you don't? - No.

Has he ever done time?

- Once, and only once. - He must be good.

- Yeah, he is. - Or was.

Well, like a lot of retired people,

he's itching to get back in the harness.

Any of the well-planned ones.

Those could be him, that latest airport do,

the Great Train Robbery, just about his mark.

What was his reaction to you?

He didn't want to know. He said I was 15 years too late.

SHE SIGHS Well, that's that then.

Who do we try next? - Nobody.

What do you mean?

It's got to be Spagge. He's the one we're after.

What if he doesn't bite?

I can't believe that while he's got blood in his veins

he'll resist three million pounds in gold.

He'll bite.

- Well? - Sir?

Now, no quiz games, Fleming. The subject is Steed.

Get on.

The bowler, custom-made, Hemmings and Paul, St James,

beautifully blocked, not a penny under ten guineas.

The umbrella, Bolton and Sons '63 model,

slightly weighted handle, perfect balance,

just right for a man of his height. And the suit, it's a dream.

A fine artist, possibly Frith Brothers.

Definitely Savile Row, 65 guineas, 75.

- Was he carrying a gun? - A gun?

A suit like that, Sir,

he couldn't have carried another fountain pen.

- Get on. - The shirt.

South Sea silk made to measure, ten guineas, impeccably cut.

The cuff links, Cabochon crystal... - Reminds me, I've lost a button.

Very good, Sir.

Charcoal grey silk hose, shoes, handmade, Teele, St James,

slightly antiqued, polished like mahogany,

uppers and ways. Significant that.

- SPAGGE: What of? - Excellent valet service.

And, Sir, the Sargent miniature in the hall.

- What about it? - He recognised it.

- Well, that's good, is it? - Good? It's excellent.

A gentleman of obvious quality.

Shut up. I want to know about the man,

not about the tailors, dummy.

If I might say so, Sir, a more fitting companion

than some of our more recent acquaintances.

I do believe you're a snob, Fleming.

Naturally, Sir. That's what I'm paid for.

Leave me alone.

Russian or China today, Sir?

China, slice of lime.

Very good, Sir.

CATHERINE: So, at Bretton Woods they had this monetary agreement

pegging the price of gold at what? Do you remember?

Thirty-five American dollars an ounce.

It's no point in telling you anything, is there?

You don't concentrate. You just sit there grinning at me.

- JOHN: Any news? - No.

- No calls? - No.

I'm beginning to think you're right about Spagge.

Old JP doesn't seem to be showing much enthusiasm, does he?

I'll give him another day. How about the gold cramming?

It's fine.

I only hope it's not a waste of time.

Never.

Think how few pawnbrokers have had your training.

Ooh, did you find your purse?

No. I went back to the boot shop. They hadn't seen it.

Well, someone will return it.

How did you find the fellow from Scotland Yard?

Inspector Brown? He certainly knows his gold.

He's very good practice for me. DOORBELL RINGS

He's apparently the most knowledgeable fellow in the country.

Hello.

Good afternoon, Sir. Mr John Steed?

That's me.

Er, Superintendent Manley, Sir, Scotland Yard.

Oh, come in, Superintendent.

- Sergeant Westwood. - Sergeant. Come in.

- There you go. - Thank you, Sir.

Sorry to have troubled you, Sir. - JOHN: Oh, it's no trouble.

Want you to meet a friend of mine.

Mrs Gale, these are two gentlemen from Scotland Yard.

Is that, er, Mrs Catherine Gale of 14 Primrose Hill?

CATHERINE: That's right.

It's Mrs Gale we're looking for, actually, Sir.

Oh, why?

MANLEY: Sorry to be so formal about this, erm...

Mrs Catherine Gale, it's my duty to arrest you

on the charge of the wilful murder of Mr John Spagge

at approximately 10am this morning.

It's my further duty to inform you that anything you say

may be taken down and used as evidence.

May I see that, please?

Yes. It was issued about 40 minutes ago, Sir.

But I don't know this man, Spagge.

We had an excellent description of you, Madam, from his butler.

But not only that, in your excitement,

you left your purse behind.

CATHERINE: My purse? But I lost it.

MANLEY: We found it.

CATHERINE: I dropped it somewhere this morning.

- In Spagge's conservatory? - Did you report it?

- No. - Why not?

I thought I'd left it in a shop.

Are you sure it's mine?

Contents, 4 pounds, 16 and 9,

an address card, and a repair ticket in your name

for a pair of leather boots to be re-heeled.

Superintendent, I think there must be some mistake.

I don't think so, Sir.

But I don't know this JP Spagge, I've never even met him.

How did you know his initials are JP?

I said his name was John. - I can explain that.

Not just now, Sir.

MANLEY: Mrs Gale, I must ask you to come along with us.

- JOHN: May I come along, too? - Later, if you don't mind, Sir.

JOHN: Very well.

Hey, don't worry.

I'll make a couple of phone calls and fix everything.

I hope so.

MANLEY: Thank you for your cooperation, Sir.

- Superintendent? - Yes, Sir?

What's happened to Spagge?

He was shot, 25 Beretta.

Ladies' gun if I've ever seen one.

ECHOING: Feeling better, dear?

CATHERINE MOANS Hmm, you'll soon pull out of it.

- Where am I? - WARDRESS: Holloway.

Holloway?

Ooh.

I've been drugged. - Yes.

Oh, the MO gave you a shot of something after...

Afterwards, calm you down.

- Could I have a drink, please? - Yes.

It's them drugs, dear.

Dries your mouth right up, doesn't it?

I had my appendix out once, couldn't spit sixpence.

Chateau Holloway. - Thank you.

How long have I been here? - Oh, I couldn't really say, dear.

I haven't been on this one long.

- What day is it? - Tuesday.

Tuesday.

Well... well, why am I... - Well, you should know. I don't.

Hey, you're not the baby strangler, are ya?

Baby strangler?

Oh, no. No, you don't look the sort.

The bomb on the airliner? Oh, no, they topped her last week.

- Spagge. - Oh, him.

Oh, of course. I read about it in the paper.

What was it now? Crime passionel.

Mm, get away with that in France, they say.

- When's the trial? - Trial?

You're a bit late, love. - What happened?

They found you guilty.

- Guilty? - Hmm.

This is the condemned cell. It's a one-way ticket from here.

How is it I don't remember anything about the trial?

Hmm, search me. It can happen. You crowned that one, didn't you?

Soon as you hear the word guilty, the mind breaks down.

Don't know why, but it does happen.

I can remember being arrested.

I can remember getting into the police car.

Superintendent Manley.

God, and it's a complete blank. - Mm, perhaps just as well.

Who is this Steed you spoke about?

Steed?

He's a friend of mine. How do you know about him?

Well, you mentioned his name once or twice.

Ooh.

Why did you do him in?

- Who, Spagge? - Were there others?

But I didn't kill him.

Oh, it's a bit late to say that now, Mrs Gale.

But I've always said it. I didn't kill him.

Well, according to them, you did.

How can I go through a whole trial and not remember anything?

KNOCK ON DOOR

WARDRESS: This will be the chaplain, dear.

See you later.

- Hello, Mrs Gale. - CATHERINE: Padre.

Looks as though I've inherited the winning position.

I wouldn't be surprised.

Five thousand miles, and I wind up as chaplain to a woman's prison.

There are many ways of serving God.

- Padre... - Yes?

I don't know what I'm doing here. I didn't murder that man, Spagge.

I don't remember any trial.

Perhaps I can help you fill in the pieces.

There was a trial. For that, you'll have to take my word.

Could I see some newspapers?

I'm sorry, Mrs Gale. That's against regulations.

Proof does not have to be tangible, believe me.

"According to your faith be done to you," Matthew 9.

- Mark. - You're right, Mark.

CATHERINE: Why was I supposed to have murdered him?

What was the motive? - There was talk of a robbery.

You and an accomplice needed Spagge's assistance.

They were the rough details as I remember them.

Who was this accomplice, Steed?

You mentioned his name a lot.

Hasn't he done anything to get me out of here?

Does he have influential friends,

contacts in the right places, the police perhaps?

Not that I know of.

Who is Steed?

What does he do?

I don't know him that well.

He's a man about town,

seems to have lots of money, and does precious little for it.

- Was the robbery his idea? - Yes.

I work for a b... I worked for a bullion firm.

I was responsible

for seeing that gold reserves were maintained at a certain level,

and for seeing that demands could be met.

We devised this plan for robbing the vaults.

Perhaps he'll go ahead without you

if he wants to do something about it.

I don't think so.

I was the only one who had access to the vaults.

I see.

- Padre? - Yes?

How much longer?

Eleven more days.

Is there anything else you would like to tell me?

Very well.

I'll see you again tomorrow.

Mr Steed. How are you, Sir?

Where's Spagge?

Sir, if this is a joke, it's in extremely poor taste.

- You stop fooling. Where is he? - Mr Spagge is no longer with us.

I should have thought that you of all people would have known that.

I don't believe you.

The bullet, a .25, went through the heart and right lung,

emerging at the right thoracic wall at the level of the ninth rib

in the middle auxiliary line, resulting in massive haemorrhage.

In layman terms, Sir, he was shot.

I don't believe a word of it.

You're welcome to look under the dust covers, Sir,

if you think he's hiding, but I do assure you, not here.

You'll be in that chair permanently if you don't answer my question.

MAN: Mrs Gale to see the governor.

Ooh, righto. Come on. This is us.

What's it all about?

Well, you don't ask questions when it's the governor.

Now, smarten yourself up.

- In these? - Don't argue.

SHE KNOCKS ON DOOR GOVERNOR: Come in.

EVERYONE LAUGHS

Welcome aboard, Mrs Gale.

- Where am I? - A chair for Mrs Gale.

You wanted to meet some boys who could help hoist your bullion.

Here we are, clean, safe and certified.

EVERYONE LAUGHS

So I didn't kill Spagge.

And the trial and the death cell?

All phony. Beasts, aren't we? EVERYONE LAUGHS

A drink for Mrs Gale.

She looks practically nude.

CATHERINE: But why?

We wanted to know who we're dealing with.

We gave you enough rope to hang yourself six times over.

Now we figure we'll have a closer look,

see if you're on the square.

CATHERINE: Thank you.

Now, introductions.

Manley and Westwood, you have already met,

two of the best men currently not working for Scotland Yard.

BOTH LAUGH How do you do, once again?

That long streak of nothing, that's Peterson.

Fatso Barker.

Gruber.

And Hammond.

He's the one cleaning out the condemned cell.

CATHERINE: You make a habit of using it?

Oh, no. It was a hasty conversion.

Used to be the laundry room.

We're men of many parts, you know, Mrs Gale.

And I'm Abe Benham.

Abe for Abraham, as in Lincoln.

How's the drink, Mrs Gale?

Fine, thank you.

I admire the way you took it. I think I'd have gone off my nut.

EVERYONE LAUGHS I admire the way you did it.

Who was the wardress?

My sister. She's an actress, used to be in rep.

Nice performance.

What happened in the car? EVERYONE LAUGHS

MANLEY: Do you remember the bag of sweets?

I took one, and I offered them to you?

That was it.

Then we gave you an injection.

EVERYONE LAUGHS

I read a little medicine once. I'm a great reader.

We must get some of Mrs Gale's clothes.

Yes. This prison garb is a bit depressing.

We've never had the pleasure.

Tell Peterson what you want and he'll fix it.

Would you like a tub before we get down to business?

Please.

Show Mrs Gale where everything lives, will you?

- Sure. - I'll take your glass.

Oh, thank you.

If you don't see it in the window, just ask.

Right.

Fetch Hammond.

Tell him he can finish up later.

Shh! For the record, I repeat what I said earlier.

I'm no Do-Right Dudley.

But while she's here, she gets VIP treatment.

Understood? - ALL: Yes.

No games to influence anyone's decision.

One thing she is, she's cool.

Yeah. I still don't understand why she didn't crack.

Must have a clear conscience. We should try it sometime.

EVERYONE LAUGHS Here we are, Abe.

You can finish up her place later.

You've all met her.

You all know vaguely what the deal is.

We've heard Spagge's version. - Yeah, but he's an old man, Abe.

How do we know we can trust him?

We know the risks. Now it's up to you. You vote on it.

In, out. The majority takes it.

Any questions?

If she knows the first thing about gold,

I'll be very surprised.

Well, I, for one, Hammond, won't be surprised.

I think she's as talented as she looks, believe me.

That should satisfy everybody.

Yeah, well, we're wasting time. Let's vote.

Agreed.

ABE: If the ins have it, we go right ahead.

If the outs, she goes back home on the next bus.

Out. In.

In. Out. Sounds like a boat race.

EVERYONE LAUGHS

In.

Out.

What do you know?

Three each, and no liberals.

Well, what happens now, Abe?

It's up to you, Abe. You'll have to vote.

I call in most of the shots around here.

Try this on your pianos.

Since we're all divided on this,

then it seems pretty silly for me to vote right off the top.

One way or the other, it would be unfair to half of you.

So, what do you say?

I sound her out some more,

size up her scheme, and then decide.

- Good idea. - Yeah, yeah, that's OK by me, Abe.

The rest of you?

- Yeah. - Yeah.

Right.

This time tomorrow, we are either in business or we ain't.

You're in fine shape for someone who's been dead for nearly a week.

Ah, you've brought the things.

Small suitcase, should be everything she needs.

Where is she, by the way?

She's safe.

- That wasn't the question. - She's staying with friends.

- What friends? - Bullion friends.

When do I get to see her?

You don't.

HE SCOFFS I don't, eh?

Not at all.

- Why not? - Their idea.

What are they trying to do, cut me out?

We haven't got a written agreement. We haven't any agreement.

There's been no agreement between Mrs Gale and myself.

- Trust her. - I think I might join this.

Don't have to.

Look, it was my idea in the first place.

Of course, but then, there's no patent on ideas.

- I could queer their pitches. - Quite easily.

What happens now?

They plan the robbery, they carry it out,

nothing for us to worry about. - Apparently not.

Let yourself out.

Fleming's indisposed.

Oh, you'd better get him to talk more readily.

Be more amenable. - He isn't paid to be amenable.

In that case, he'd go home being indisposed.

Who was she?

That was Marianne. Exquisite creature.

Very expensive, though, weren't you?

Cost me a lot, seven years to be exact.

- She shopped you? - That's right.

She shopped me.

Ah, "Frailty, thy name is woman."

ABE: Don't move! How long have you been in gold?

Years.

Where does Mr Gale come into the picture?

- He's dead. - I'm sorry.

Heavy stuff to carry around, gold.

Very heavy.

They tell me that each bar is worth about, what is it, 3,000 pounds?

Five thousand.

As much as that? Don't move.

I never understood why they didn't use something else

instead of gold.

- Such as? - Silver.

Would take too much.

The current price of silver is nine and three pence an ounce,

the highest since 1920.

Gold is 12 pounds ten an ounce. That answer your question?

All the way. So you'd need about 25 times as much.

Exactly.

Where is all the gold in the world?

- Mainly in America. - Fort Knox.

Also the Federal Mint in Washington

and the Federal Reserve Bank in New York City.

You know what it's all about, don't you?

The acquaintance isn't personal enough. Yet.

Yet?

What sort of percentage deal did you have in mind, Mrs Gale?

Fifty-fifty.

50% for me and my partner, 50% for you and yours.

- And Spagge? - You pay him.

- Reasonable. - That was what I had in mind.

I'm sorry. I don't follow.

That little charade in the death cell.

- What about it? - It's gonna cost you.

Why?

You've had your little joke. Now it's my turn.

5%, 150,000.

Jokes on me come expensive.

- You're crazy. - Take it or leave it.

We didn't even say we'd do the job.

- Keep me posted. - Wait.

You're a smooth operator, Mrs Gale.

It's a pity it took you so long to find out.

You always drive with a foot on the boards?

Always.

Forty-five, fifty-five, and you pay Spagge.

- No. - All right, we'll argue a little.

No.

OK, it's on.

You know, Mrs Gale,

I think I'm gonna enjoy this job.

Yeah, I think you are.

HE CHUCKLES

HE WHISTLES

HE CLEARS THROAT What's that?

Mrs Gale's suitcase.

You get on with your housework, Daisy.

EVERYONE LAUGHS

Anything, Jack?

No. Looks genuine. What about you?

No, nothing yet.

OK.

Put her things back in there nice and tidy

and leave it on the bed. - All right.

And, er, don't you go trying one on, either.

EVERYONE LAUGHS

Out of it.

CATHERINE: What's all this out here?

ABE: A mason's yard.

Oh, so, sculpture's your real business?

That's right. It's also a convenient way of disposing of things.

A bronze of Napoleon lined with gold.

You know the sort of thing, strictly objet d'art.

BOTH LAUGH

- Let's take a look now. - Yeah.

You know, there's only one thing that's worrying me.

I was supposed to be on three weeks' holiday.

- Right. - So if they don't hear from me,

they'll get suspicious. I always write.

What sort of things do you need, postcards?

Yes, "missing you, wish you were here,

"weather fine," that sort of thing. - Who do you send them to?

A couple of colleagues at Central Office.

- I'd have to read them first. - Fair enough.

Where are you supposed to be on this vacation?

Bournemouth.

Look more the Costa del Sol type to me.

That comes after the robbery.

- All right. You'll have your cards. - Thank you.

JOHN: Yes, I'm holding on.

Oh, Inspector Grant, Steed.

Thank you very much for the postcards.

HE LAUGHS You do, eh?

I'm thinking of retiring there myself.

They got it all fixed for Tuesday, six men.

Yes, I thought you would.

See you. Bye.

SHUFFLING ON THE LINE

HE CLEARS THROAT

One of your conversational moods, Fleming?

No, Sir, but I would like to say something.

What are you waiting for, written permission?

- It's about Mr Steed, Sir. - Straight to the point.

He's working with the police.

- Proof? - He's been talking with

Inspector Grant of Scotland Yard, Sir.

How do you know?

I took the liberty of having his telephone instrument tapped, Sir.

Very anti-social of you.

Yes, Sir. But then I'm afraid Mr Steed

has come down somewhat in my estimation, Sir.

Very well, Fleming. We'll take the necessary action.

Sir.

Is there anything you want, Mrs Gale?

No, thanks, Abe.

- Good night then. - Good night.

KEYS TURN IN LOCKS

CLOCK TOWER BELL CHIMES

PHONE RINGS

Hello?

Hello.

JOHN: Hello? - Good night, Mr Steed.

GUNSHOT FIRES

DOG WHIMPERS

Art lovers, fellow artists, Mrs Gale.

This is the moment we have looked forward to

for longer than I care to admit.

I think you can all guess how I feel.

- Show us, Abe, show us. - Bear with me, friend.

I understand how you feel, but bear with me.

ALL CHUCKLE This is a moment

of pride and humility.

Suddenly, I begin to feel quite wonderful.

EVERYONE LAUGHS

Er, friends, I give you my latest offering.

It's called quite simply, "Gold Vault."

EVERYONE APPLAUDS AND CHEERS

Best thing you ever done, Abe. Gets you right, er, here.

EVERYONE LAUGHS

You think they'll accept it, hang it in the Academy?

There'll be a hanging, all right, Abe, if they catch you, huh?

EVERYONE LAUGHS

ABE: Oh, cut the comedy, boys. Mrs Gale, the floor is all yours.

The walls, too, if need be.

EVERYONE APPLAUDS AND CHEERS

Gentlemen, and others present,

in these vaults is two to three million pounds' worth of gold.

We shall need one of your specially strong trucks,

the cross-country type.

The vaults are situated beneath a large remote country house

on the Kent-Sussex border.

Few people know either of its existence or its location.

That's why no one's ever tried to rob it before.

Access to the vaults proper,

and by that I mean the gold depository here,

is impossible unless the guard knows and recognises you.

He knows me. - I'll bet you he does.

I'll bet you... HE SCREAMS

ABE: Hey! There's a lady on the floor.

CATHERINE: Once inside the depository,

I shall overpower the guard and operate these twin doors,

so giving you free access to the gold.

Besides the man who operates these doors,

the vaults are guarded by four other men

based here in the guard room.

They're armed, and they maintain constant radio contact

with the local police and the company staff above ground.

Oh, that's great. So how do we get in?

We have devoted a lot of thought to this.

The vaults are air conditioned. That's the only weakness.

- Only? - Yes.

The construction is of stressed granite,

steel-lined throughout.

It's made up as follows, 700 cubic feet of granite,

Hundred and forty cubic yards of concrete,

twenty-one tons of reinforcing steel and 14 tons of structural steel.

HENCHMAN WHISTLES Right. So,

come to the air conditioning.

Yes, well, here, you see,

is where the fresh air comes in, these gratings here.

You'll see they're spaced at frequent intervals.

The plant supplying the vaults is behind the house.

And, get this, unguarded,

except for a single clasp lock on the wooden door

with screws this big in the hinges.

- A piece of cake. - Cake.

Our intention is to feed in a certain gas with the air

and so put the guards out of action.

An air conditioned Mickey Finn, huh?

- Right. - Wait a minute, wait a minute.

It doesn't kill, does it?

- Knock them out for an hour. - Hey, hold your horses.

If it knocks them out, how come it won't knock us out?

Yeah.

CATHERINE: He's got a point.

- Huh, Christmas already. - Open it.

EVERYONE TALKING AT ONCE

When are we going to do it, Abe?

All in good time, Jack. Finish the briefing first.

Ah, come on, Abe, tell us.

So keen, it's touching.

You'd think he'd never seen a criminal before!

Twelve o'clock, Tuesday. EVERYONE CHEERS

Correction. Twelve o'clock, Monday.

But you said Tuesday.

Me horoscope.

Had to be Monday.

Doesn't change anything, does it?

I hope not.

- Very sad about Mr Steed, Sir. - Very.

Seldom known a man with such exquisite taste.

Perhaps we ought to send a floral tribute, Sir.

- I think not, Fleming. - Surely a small one, Sir, unsigned?

Unsigned ones can be traced, too.

But then, if one shortens a fellow mortal's span,

it seems the least one can do.

Thirty bob in exchange for 40 years.

I'd still like to know how he recognised the Sargent miniature.

HE EXHALES Most discerning taste.

- Perhaps taste didn't come into it. - Sir?

Perhaps he just read the signature in the bottom left-hand corner.

Oh, no, Sir. No. He was above that.

A gentleman with frailties, admittedly,

but a gentleman nonetheless.

Anything else, Sir? - LOUDLY: Dinner!

How much longer, Abe?

- What's the time? - Five to.

- You didn't look. - I didn't have to.

I got a watch ticking in my head. - That could be dangerous.

ABE: Relax, boys, relax.

"Youths and maids enjoy today for naught ye know of tomorrow."

How are you feeling, Mrs Gale? - Never better.

Right. Looks fine.

I'll finish it later.

You think this is a good day for a... a robbery?

I thought your horoscope was favourable.

Of course.

All right, boys, empty your pockets.

Five down for a full house.

MAN: Keep your eyes off my money.

INDISTINCT CHATTER

MAN: Hello, Mrs Gale, back already?

Yes, I couldn't stay away any longer.

HE CHUCKLES Good holidays?

Fine, thank you.

EVERYONE COUGHS

CATHERINE: Hurry. We've only got two minutes.

PHONE RINGS

PHONE CONTINUES RINGING

Hello?

No, it's Mrs Gale, temporary relief.

Oh, yes, Mr Faith.

Right. We'll expect them at three.

It's all right. It's only routine.

MEN GRUNT

MAN: That's the fourth one.

Ah, per doctor's orders, for that I should have

lots and lots of money, preferably gold,

If not, I'll get dull and listless, lose weight.

I should think you'd never need to see a doctor again.

Jack, see that they get the rest stashed away, OK, will you?

And burn the gas masks in the furnace.

- All right. - Now, Mrs Gale,

I figure the only proper time to drink to success is after the job.

There's a lot to be said to that.

- Here's to you. - Thank you.

You didn't mind me changing the day of the raid, did you?

No. Why should I?

Thought you looked a might peeved.

SHE SCOFFS Not at all.

Didn't upset your plans any?

Of course not. There's your proof.

Yeah.

'Course, you can't ever go back there, can you?

Who wants to?

So, why send the postcards?

- Sorry, I don't follow you. - Mrs Gale,

you have been the smart apple around here too long.

You knew you wouldn't be able to go back there.

So, I repeat, why send the postcards?

You're right.

I needn't have bothered.

Why did you let me? - When the cards were posted,

I didn't know how the scheme was gonna work.

There's your answer, neither did I.

Mrs Gale, look at it from my point of view.

A strange lady comes in out of the unknown.

You're making it sound very dramatic.

Mrs Gale, when someone puts you on to three million,

it is dramatic, very dramatic.

Anyway, here she comes with this 24-karat scheme

for robbing the end of the rainbow,

all worked out to the last full stop.

And there she goes sending postcards to people she'll never see again.

Wouldn't you be suspicious?

I would. I agree.

But you know what I'd do? - Tell me.

I'd put on my thinking cap,

and I'd come to the conclusion there was no harm

in keeping everybody sweet till after the robbery.

And then I'd look at the gold, all three million pounds' worth.

And I'd stop being suspicious.

You're a cool one, Mrs Gale.

So you've said before.

What are your plans now?

I've got a flight booked to...

Let's just leave it at that, shall we?

They'll be watching all the airports.

- Not in Southern Ireland. - How do you get there?

There's this fisherman in Anglesey who owes me a big favour.

You've read up on your extradition laws?

I'm an authority.

ABE: Daddy!

So this is Mrs Gale.

Yes. The raid went like a dream.

- Yeah, so I understand. - Y-You should have seen her.

- Kill her. - ABE: What?

You heard me.

- Why? What reason? - Steed was in with the police.

ABE: That's why you wanted the date change...

Now, don't waste time.

HE STAMMERS You can't order...

Suddenly order someone's death

just like it was ice cream in a restaurant!

Why not?

I don't care if Steed was playing footsie with the law.

I tell you, that raid went like a dream.

Would it have done if she was in with the badgers?

I'd like to hear your answer to that, Mr Spagge.

- Fleming? - Oh, no, Sir, not me.

What proof do you have?

- Inspector Grant. - Grant? What about him?

Thought that would make you sit up.

Steed was in touch with him. We tapped his phone.

He'd give a lot to know where you were, Abe,

and the older you get, the more likely you are to talk.

So they say.

I'm sorry, Mrs Gale.

But I did have my suspicions.

CATHERINE: If you ever do that padre act again...

- ABE: Yes? - CATHERINE: It was Matthew 9.

ABE: I knew it.

MAN GROANS

GUNSHOT FIRES

GUNSHOT FIRES

Don't! SHE GRUNTS

GUNSHOT FIRES

Good evening, gentlemen.

HE GRUNTS

Damn it.

Fleming!

Can't see a thing with these damn windows.

Mrs Gale. - We meet again, Mr Spagge.

- Fle... - Sorry, I couldn't be here sooner.

I was writing recommendations for a new bulletproof window.

Fonsonby's, of German Street. They do a good window.

Very smart work, Mr Steed. I congratulate you.

- Glad you approve. - Hardly the word I'd have chosen.

Should have known, all that gold.

Too good to be true. - I thought it might tempt you.

Wouldn't have done, not in my prime, never.

Steed.

Steed, I'm too old to go to prison. My heart wouldn't stand...

SHOUTS: Fleming! Well, where's Fleming?

I think he's resigned.

Don't you let him get away, Steed, he's an accessory.

You can nail him for that.

He's also a very good butler.

I have a soft spot for a fellow who knows the difference between

South Sea silk and drip dry.

I can find a niche for him.

- Don't be long. - What's the hurry?

There's a reward.

- There is? - 10%.

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