Original subtitles

May I help you, sir?

Yes, may I see some hats, please? Headwear?

Certainly, sir.

Mr. Massey?

Ah, Mr. Massey will escort you.

Headwear, Mr. Massey? Yes, sir.

And, Mr. Massey, your carnation is crooked.

Kindly adjust it. Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir.

This way, sir.

Ah,

deed. What a pleasant surprise meeting you here, my dear. I think I'll just

browse around the stock, if you don't mind. Certainly, sir. What do you mean,

pleasant surprise? There I was, deep in thermodynamics. I think a curly brim,

don't you? You'll be wearing a curly brim for a collar unless you tell me

exactly... One of our best agents was murdered yesterday. His name was Moran.

was shot six times in Dunton and Alley.

Ostentatious. Eh?

Six times. Oh, yes.

He was on to something big, but unfortunately we don't know what.

Ah, I think this cut's rather a dash, don't you? If he was dumped in an alley,

what are we doing here? We've only got one lead. This was found in his pocket.

It's a receipt from Pinter.

It's an ordinary store receipt.

Have a look at the date.

And yesterday was Sunday.

Store was closed.

Did you find anything to suit you, sir? Thank you. I'll take twelve of these on

account. Certainly, sir. Oh, and I've got to collect something for a friend of

mine. What department was it, ma 'am?

Nineteen. Through the next department on the right, ma 'am. Thank you.

May help us to find out what Moran was buying.

Did he have any children?

Not so far as I know.

May I help you?

Oh, yes. Is this department 19?

That is correct.

Then it's the right place.

Yes, of course, of course.

This must be a very happy time for both of us. Oh, it's not exactly that. Well,

I wonder if you're buying a cot if I might recommend this one, sir.

Baby will be very happy in it.

I think baby's too big.

Come along, my dear.

Excuse us.

Now, what would he have wanted with a pram?

Perhaps his nanny had a license endorsed.

For reckless pushing.

That's funny.

What?

It isn't Old Bates at all. It's Royal Crichton. That's quite an easy mistake.

Not to anyone with half an idea about China.

Old Bates and Royal Crichton are as different as chalk from cheese.

Someone in this store doesn't know his job.

Perhaps.

Perhaps I need an assistant.

Mrs. Peel?

Yes?

Jarvis.

Hastic.

Detective.

Settling in okay?

Yes, thank you. That's the ticket.

Ever worked in a store before?

No. Well, watch out for those with big shopping bags, the open type.

Especially if they put it on a counter.

Get half the store in a bag like that and never see it go.

Oh, what checks? Don't accept any big ones without I say so, got it?

I think so.

You too.

Oh, um... Don't worry about not knowing the ropes.

None of them here do.

May I have some service, please?

Charming.

I asked the chief predator where to find you, and he said, Our Mrs. Peel is in

ladies' underwear.

I rattled up the stairs three at a time. Mary Quip's department on the fifth

floor, sir.

Our Mrs. Peel? Our?

I've only been working here half a day, already unfolded to the communal bosom.

Find anything?

Yes.

None of the staff here have the faintest idea about running a store.

Whatever they are, they're certainly not salesmen.

Fat? Instinct.

Interesting. What have you been doing?

Pinters were taken over a year or so ago, lock, stock and barrel, the whole

chain of stores, by Horatio Cain.

King Cain? One of the original fathers of industry.

So that's what they meant.

I heard some of the staff talking about the king upstairs.

He's here?

Mm -hmm, living at the top of a building.

A disused department's been converted for him. Really? Where is it? The

Department of Discontinued Lines.

You should fit in rather well.

It's a matter of opinion.

To the top of the building, sir. Up the stairs and beyond the executive staff

restaurant. Extremely simple, I'll be modern. Thank you.

To Wentworth.

Cloudingale here, sir.

I fear there may be an intruder somewhere on the top floor.

Yes, sir. I understand.

Wentworth?

Wentworth?

Who are you?

My name is Steve, sir. John Steed.

I don't know you.

No, sir. My company told me to look for some business. We're efficiency experts.

We step in and try to ginger up any business that may be failing.

Know what you want, go out and get it. That's the way fortunes are made. The

to power.

You think my business is failing?

Well, frankly, sir, I wasn't very impressed before I saw downstairs.

Oh, weren't you now? Weren't you?

Your staff seemed to be a little inexperienced, which in my book is

inefficiency. But don't you worry. My company will put it right if we just

your cooperation, access to your records, and... The Department of

Lines. That's what they call this place.

Discontinued Lines.

Relics of a bygone age, Dean.

Yes, sir.

A glorious age.

Creatures, leisurely, ordered.

A time for many things.

A machine was a thing of joy then.

Built the last man's lifetime.

Now it's out of date before it's left the assembly line.

Brush, tear, grab and grub. That's life today.

Out of date.

That's what they say about me, you know.

They say that this is where I belong.

A discontinued line.

The old man run down at last.

Yes, run down. They say that I live only for the good old days. Try to recapture

them. Well, that's partly true, but it's only half of it.

A man can possess a Michelangelo, can't he, Steed, and still appreciate a

Picasso.

I can't compete anymore, that's what they say.

Haven't got the grasp of modern technique.

Haven't got the grasp.

Well, I'll surprise them yet.

I'll show them that Horatio Cain can still... Yes, sir?

How can you show them?

Efficiency expert, eh?

Yes, sir.

But you were just about to... I'm talking to the wrong man.

I'm just a sick old man.

Foolish sick old man.

Robert Wentworth governs the policy of this store. You'd have to impress him

with your ideas.

That's correct.

I'm sorry about the disturbance, sir.

This man had no right to come up here.

He says his name's Steed.

Thinks he can improve our business. Well, perhaps he can.

After all, he did get up here to see me.

This way, please.

I enjoyed our little chat.

Very enjoyable.

You should have used the proper channels, Mr. Seed.

Written to us.

Made an appointment.

You would have turned me down.

Perhaps.

You see, we have to be very careful whom we allow in to see, Mr. Kane.

He's a frail man these days.

Deceptible.

For many dubious characters, try to talk him into putting up money for even more

dubious schemes. We have to protect him.

Excuse me.

It's not always easy.

Old age can sometimes be querulous.

On the whole, we do a very good job, but once in a while, someone finds a chink

in our armour.

I imagine you use the emergency stairs.

Yes.

We'll post a man there in future.

Well, goodbye, Mr. Steed.

Really,

Jarvis, what this store is coming to, I do not know.

What's up now? Another staff meeting tonight, and again, I'm not invited.

Really, I told Mr Wentworth.

Another one tonight, eh?

The third this week.

Same as before, senior staff only. A selected few.

After all, I am chief window dresser here, and one might think... Never mind,

everything's changing around here since the takeover. It might be just growing

pain. Well, I hope you're right.

Is that usual?

Three staff meetings in one week?

Sometimes more than that. Sometimes every night of the week.

Even Sundays?

Mr Wentworth really believes in working his staff hard round here, doesn't he?

Where do they hold their meetings? In the store?

That's right. And I should get that idea right out of your head.

Staying on to find out what happens.

Now, why should I want to stay on? Be pretty careful about that. They check

store from top to bottom.

I've seen you today, listening in to every conversation, watching every

move.

You didn't come here just to sell ladies' nighties, Mrs Peel.

Look, I'm with you.

There is something odd going on round here.

Well, I could help you.

Nothing much escapes old Jarvis.

Besides, I've got a passkey.

Ministry of Labour.

Not satisfied with the way things are being run round here. Need to know more.

You can reach me.

Here.

Keep my eyes open, let you know.

Good night, Mrs Peel.

Good night, Mr Farthingale.

Just how you feel. Come on, open up.

Go away, I'm not at home.

Mrs. Peel, you can't possibly send me away.

I'm contagious.

I've got beriberi, myxomatosis and hard pap.

But I'm grievously wounded.

Come in.

Five o 'clock. Oh.

Whatever happened to you?

Department of discontinued lines. Wentworth threw me out.

I've got just what you need.

I'm thinking of lodging a complaint against the management.

Proves one thing, though. They must have something to hide.

Jarvis thinks so, too.

House detective.

He's agreed to help.

Cheers. I expected a larger glass.

No.

Really, see, the fuss you make over a tiny bruise. Tiny?

What on earth's that?

It's an exploded molecular construction.

So that's what hit me.

Oh, I feel as though I was sprouting two heads.

Have you room for expansion?

You're supposed to be a ministering angel.

Here am I, grievously hurt.

Bruised. My pride was hurt.

Come now.

Surely you've been thrown out of places before.

Only the best places.

You will survive.

Would you like a drink?

Intravenously.

Well, you didn't waste your time today. You made an ally.

Jarvis. You think you can trust him?

I don't know.

Ah, the corpuscles are beginning to function normally.

Good. Then perhaps you can function normally and get back to work. I have a

paper to prepare on thermodynamics.

A conflict of science and humanity.

Equations, isotherms.

I have a dynamic too, you know.

Very colourful.

Red -blooded. Good night, Steve. You've had a strenuous day.

Oh!

You're quite right.

I broke into Wentworth's apartment earlier today, found this. Makes very

interesting reading.

Well, gentlemen, our campaign is nearing its conclusion.

The long, hard road...

Sometimes a dangerous one, but the end is in sight.

Our main strike area is set up. All that remains now is to trigger off the final

action.

When will that be, Major?

Yes, when is D -Day?

Well, that depends on the Professor, of course.

And on your security arrangements.

Marco, are they all fixed up?

Well, how are you, Professor?

Fit and ready for another night's work?

We're all getting anxious. We'd like to know when the job will be completed.

Oh, come, come now. Surely... Surely you're not going to be stubborn again,

I thought we'd cured you of that.

I'm doing my best.

Working as fast as I can.

What else to expect when I'm cooped up here all the time?

You'll have to work faster, Professor.

Then you won't be cooped up here any longer.

Will you?

Go get your wires crossed.

Hello?

Yes, who's speaking?

It's Jarvis.

Jarvis.

I told you I'd keep my eyes peeled, didn't I?

I found something might interest you.

Ground floor camping display.

I left the side door unlocked.

Make it snappy.

So you left the body there.

I had to.

Couldn't raise the alarm without explaining what I was doing there.

This morning?

Not a sign of it.

Probably dumped in an alleyway by now.

This is for you.

Excuse me.

Quite simple, sir. All you have to do is pull a few strings.

Just like the civil service.

Quick promotion.

From lingerie to space age woman in one big jump.

It's all policy. Move you around.

So even with one man dead, business as usual.

Not quite.

Mr. Glynn was dismissed this morning.

Chief Window Drizzler.

Where is he now?

You might find him just through there.

Mr. Glynn?

Yes? I'm John Steed.

I'm a shareholder in Pintos, and I've been hearing some very disturbing rumors

about the way the store's being run.

Rumors?

Not rumors, Mr. Teed. This store has gone to pot.

Look at me.

After six years of faithful service... Why were you sacked, Mr. Glenn?

Your guess is as good as mine.

All I did was to tell Mr. Wentworth about my ground floor display.

Ground floor display? What about it? Someone keeps changing it. Last night.

And the night before, I set out a display on the ground floor, and then

morning, it's all changed.

Strange things happening here, Mr. Teed.

Six years of faithful service and I won't be the last to go either. Julie

be next.

Julie? Julie Thompson in the food market. She'll be the next. You'll see

isn't. And it isn't her fault about the food. Eh?

The food that disappears during the night.

Good morning.

Good morning, sir.

Cheese. Yes, sir.

Stilton. Port fed, its feet firmly manacled.

Firmly manacled?

You want a very ripe one, sir. Leaping about.

I'll see if I can catch one for you.

Splendid. I take half an ounce.

Will that be all, sir?

Goodness me, no. This is as long as my arm.

One tomato, two egg whites, handful of chives, half an onion, a squeeze of

lemon. It's a recipe.

So I gathered.

Do you want it wrapped?

Except for the squeeze of lemon.

Pour in a pint and a half of burgundy, add three pounds of best steak, and

to marinate.

Hmm, sounds marvellous.

More than enough for two.

We could leave out the half an onion.

Is that a proposition?

More of a fly suggestion.

Where does the food disappear to?

I've been speaking to Mr Glynn. Where do you think the food disappears to?

I've really no idea.

But it does disappear.

Oh, come now, I'm trying to help.

I really haven't any idea.

All I know is that for the past few weeks, food has been disappearing.

During the night?

Seems the only possible explanation.

Any particular kind of food?

Cans of fruit, bread, some ripe silt, and some bumblebees.

Honeyed bumblebees. We import them from Japan.

And all this stuff disappears every night?

Just lately.

It's funny how I come to think of it. Eh?

The honeyed bumblebees.

Why someone should steal them?

I mean, we hardly ever sell any in the store.

As a matter of fact, we only stop them because a customer pays a special order.

What customer?

Mr. Popple.

Well, Professor Popple, really. You know, the one who disappeared a few

ago.

What?

I've got nine and a half minutes to finish my lunch and get back to the

I brought you a bottle of wine to go with your lunch. Lovely.

Specially imported for Pintus.

Do you know Professor Popple?

Popple? Hmm.

Physicist. Expert on nuclear fission.

Atom splitter.

Did he disappear a few weeks ago?

That's right.

He was addicted to bumblebees.

Honeyed bumblebees.

Pintos keep a special stocking for him. Eight minutes, 45 seconds. Pintos and

Popper, do you suppose there's any connection?

Moran was the catalyst.

He was found dead with a receipt from Pintos in his pocket. It was dated on

Sunday. So he must have broken in.

It's worth seeing if it has any special significance.

I should use it when I get the opportunity.

Oh, eight minutes.

Go on with the jigsaw.

Okay.

Discontinued. Senile.

Perhaps. Wentworth?

Pinted strong -arm salesman.

I shall take great pleasure in closing my account there. Seven minutes, Baldy.

Go on.

Jarvis, Flynn, Julie Thompson, Professor Popple, Bumblebee.

All right. Time's up. Have a go.

Bumblebee.

Bumblebee.

Now, who would want to feel some honey?

Bumblebees. Pilfering, Matty.

You know I don't stand for pilfering. No, sir.

It's just for the professor, sir.

He's not a bad sort of chap, sir, and he's not too happy with the grub we're

feeding him, so... Well, I thought... You thought you could disobey my order.

Where's Marco?

Marco, sir? Yes, Marco. He's in charge of the commissariat. Where the devil is

he?

Downstairs, I think, sir.

Trying his luck with a new girl.

Tony Markle. I'm the chief accountant here.

Would you mind checking your documents? Make sure I have all the details for

this.

That's great.

I noticed one important omission. Your telephone number.

I think you have all the necessary details.

We ought to keep all our goods on the top shelf.

Have you nothing better to do, Mr. Markle? I'm open to suggestions. Can you

think of a better way of passing the time?

As a matter of fact, I can.

This receipt doesn't seem to belong to our department. I wonder if you'd mind

checking it for me.

For you?

Anything.

Where did you get this?

I found it.

Why, what's wrong?

Nothing at all. You did right to show it to me.

Mr. Wentworth will want to talk to you about it.

This way, Mrs. Peel.

Would you wait here for a moment?

In the old days, I'd have handled the whole business myself. The whole

This way, it's second -hand.

I'm putting a great deal of trust in you.

It's not Mr. Place, sir, I can assure you. I hope not. I hope not. Excuse me,

sir.

Mark, I want to see you. Not as much as I want to see you.

Take a look at that.

Trouble!

Nothing we can't handle, sir.

Where did this turn up?

That new girl, Mrs. Peel.

Did she say where she found it?

I thought I'd better leave that to you. She's downstairs. I locked her in.

Can I do for you, sir?

Oh, the lady assistant who served me earlier.

Mrs. Peel?

Yes. What about her?

Well, it's nothing really.

She said she might have a drink with me.

Mrs. Peel was dismissed for philandering with the customers.

Mrs. Pinter, you know, sir, we don't stand for that kind of thing here.

No. Why? I'm afraid that Mrs. Peel is no longer with us.

Is there anything else you might require, sir? The store is just about to

Well, uh... No, thanks.

Pardon, Gail? Sir?

Everything secure, Major?

Good. Where have you got Mrs. Peel? Found her at the department, sir. Who's

guarding her?

Matthew.

All right.

Now go check the detonation area. Carry on. Sir.

Good night.

Meanie, meanie, meanie.

Mo.

That's how I like my mummies. Well preserved.

Carpet bagger.

I take it you're not hurt. Only my pride.

Steve, there's a fully equipped laboratory upstairs.

That fits in for a better bottle.

Oh, thanks.

Rudd. Steve.

Store receipts. Feed cards for this computer.

High -pressure accounting.

Let's see, shall we?

Hold on to your hat.

It's a perfect cover. You can feel these programming cards by making them look

like ordinary store receipts.

Moran must have stumbled onto it.

Well, it certainly isn't a shopping list. I told you to hold on to your hat.

think it's the plans for a nuclear bomb.

How can you tell, Madam Curie?

Thermodynamics, Mr. Magoo. The two sciences are correlated.

Bomb! Must stop them!

Got to stop them!

This bomb, is it your invention?

My job is finished.

Where have they got it, Professor?

Where have they hidden it?

In the door.

Down there in the... Just

stop them!

Better start somewhere.

Yeah.

Why didn't you bombs come in anyway?

There could be any ties from this to this.

Oh, let's just look.

Size depends on what they intend.

What would Tintos want with an atom bomb, anyway?

Perhaps they intend mushrooming out, expanding.

You have a kind and considerate nature, aren't you?

You search upstairs.

You press this door from top to bottom and there's not a sign of it.

It has to be here.

What makes you so sure?

Feeling, intuition.

Have a look at that.

Toddlers' toy fair, ladies' underwear, gentlemen's outfitting, large persons,

small persons.

We've been through the lot. It has to be somewhere.

We found our bomb.

We're standing in it.

What have you got to lose?

Inefficient, that's what you said, wasn't it? Inefficient.

Well, what do you think now?

My biggest takeover bid yet.

Yes.

This store is a bomb.

The entire fabric of it. The king.

Nonsense, Farthingale. It can't do any harm now.

Besides, I'm proud of my scheme. I want them to know.

What were you hoping to achieve?

A takeover, Mrs. Peel.

Tomorrow I'm going to take over the entire country, hold it to ransom with

bomb.

It won't work.

They'll agree to your demands, then play for time, locate the bomb and dismantle

it. They won't know where to look, will they?

Only you'll know that.

Suppose they don't believe you. Suppose they... Oh, they'll believe me.

After I've destroyed London, I told you, didn't I, Steed?

Horatio Cain isn't finished yet.

No grasp of modern techniques.

Well, let's see what they think after I've turned their modern techniques

against them.

A demonstration of power.

Tonight, I and my special staff will be on our way to somewhere far from here.

Tomorrow the store will open as usual.

And then, sometime during the day, this store and 50 miles surrounding

it will disappear completely from the map.

That ought to convince them, don't you think?

Sometime during the day?

Surely you can be more exact.

The bomb, this store, will explode with the first customer who buys a

washing machine.

You tell them, Farthingale.

It's really terribly simple.

All bombs need a detonator.

And ours is embedded in the floor of the lift shaft on the northern side.

Yes, I know that lift's been out of order lately.

Alterations, structural repairs.

But that's all been seen to now, hasn't it, sir? All working smoothly again now.

The customers will be able to use it as usual tomorrow.

And washing machines are in the basement.

Sooner or later, a customer will ask to be taken there.

You'll step into the lift. The lift will descend.

Down, down, down, down.

And then, vroom!

Wentworth, is that you?

Yes, sir. Over here in the corner.

You again.

Came for my teddy bear.

Can't sleep without one.

I'm tired of these two Wentworth. You deal with them. With pleasure.

Any last request?

A ride on a tornado roadster?

Or this?

Don't let them reach the door! Go on, after them!

After them! After them, you fool! After them!

What's wrong? They've escaped.

Don't move.

right back up

give me the gun

back up

give

me the gun

Thank you.

Mrs. Peel, you're remarkable.

Come on, brother -in -law.

straight drive to mid -on. It's all in the grip, you know. Really?

It's all over.

Over? They've seen the woman there. They've beaten us.

Over?

No, Wentworth.

Not yet.

No!

The lift.

Are you sure it was all right, Dee, taking these?

Of course, Mrs. Peel. It was a gift for services rendered.

After all, we did save them from the biggest closing down sale of all time.