All language subtitles for heartbeat_s14e21_rustlers_and_hustlers

Heartbeat, why do you miss when my baby
kisses me?

Heartbeat, why does a love chip stay in
my memory?

What can I get for you, Sergeant?

At this time of night, Mr. Blaketon.

You've only just gone time, Sergeant.

It went time five minutes ago, young
lady, according to my watch.

Well, I can only assume that our clock
must be slow then.

And how often did you hear that when you
were a copper?

Only most of the landlords that I know,
the responsible ones at any rate, keep

their clocks five minutes fast in order
to avoid embarrassing little moments

like this.

Are you going to do us for it, then?

Not this time.

Just make sure there isn't a next time,
eh?

Well, Bellamy, you have my deepest
sympathy.

Having to work under that overbearing,
officious, pompous prat.

It isn't easy, Oscar.

Believe me.

I'm sure it isn't.

I don't know what's happening to the
modern police force these days. I really

don't.

Breaks my heart.

Having said that, mind you, he does in
many ways remind me of a certain

we both used to work under once upon a
time.

I wonder who that would be. I wonder.

Bedford? You don't know his name's
Blaze.

It's what I call him anyway.

And I'm going to ride him today.

No, Patsy, you mustn't.

Oh, look!

I see my red door.

I just haven't been hit last.

Easy now.

Is Blaze all right?

Blaze? The pony.

I told her not to ride him. Never mind
about the pony. Are you all right?

My shoulder hurts.

Your shoulder... OK, nothing else?

Don't think so.

Right, well, look, can you wait here for
me? I'm going to call for assistance.

But what about Blaze?

Your pony, is it?

No, we just found him.

All right, well, er... Don't worry about
Blaze.

He's not going anywhere.

I'll get somebody to pick him up as
well.

Back at it.

In you go.

Dr Trent.

Constable.

This is Patty and Sheila.

Patty here's had enough deform.

Oh, dear.

Where does it hurt?

My shoulder.

Have you alerted the parents?

Yeah, their mum's on the way.

It's all right if I use the phone and
call the RSPTA.

Of course.

Now, then, let's have a look at this
shoulder, shall we?

Phone.

Here you go, Peg.

Well, that's me. I'm off, then.

Oh, well, have a good time.

Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

That gives me plenty of scope.

Hey, cheeky. See you at the weekend.

Ta -ra.

Where's he off to, then? He's gone on a
golfing trip to Scotland for a week.

Oh, can't be bad.

I've played golf once.

And where was that, David?

Royal Birkdale or St Andrews?

It was Blackpool.

I lost me ball.

That can happen to anybody playing golf,
David.

Yeah, not crazy golf, though.

We got stuck down one of those...

And the owner, he got really cross with
me, especially because I got my club

stuck as well, trying to wiggle it out.

Let's just think, though, Gina.

But for that early setback, we might
have had another Tony Jacklin on our

Oh, incidentally, I believe you rent out
that upstairs room for functions

sometimes. Yeah, we do.

Only, you see, when I lived in Filey, I
used to work at the holiday camp and I

had a lot of mates among the Red Corps.

Did you?

Yeah, and every so often we have this
little reunion, like, only to play

and that, and I was wondering if we
could use that room upstairs.

Of course, I know you'll be short
-handed with Mr Blaketon being away, but

wouldn't be any trouble, and I'm sure
David would volunteer to wait on,

you, David?

Oh, yeah, yeah, sure.

Well, I can't see there being a problem
with it. Right.

Would Wednesday night be all right,
then? Yeah, fine.

I'm going to get you.

I didn't know that you worked at Filey
Holiday Camp, Auntie Peggy.

There's many things you don't know about
me, David.

And many things you're better off not
knowing.

All right, thanks, Mr Snape. I'll call
round later.

Make sure you've found him, OK? Bye.

So, will she live? I think she'll just
about make it through the day.

Not really to be recommended, though,
Patty, riding a strange pony.

Especially without a saddle.

He would never have bolted if that man
hadn't shot at us.

A man shot at you?

Yeah, with a shotgun.

That's what spooked him.

Not actually at us.

Just into the air.

Hmm.

All right, why don't you two sit there,
wait for your mum, and we'll deal with

that later.

How are you today?

Fine.

You? Yeah, fine. Good.

Good.

Can I see you tonight?

I can't make it tonight, I'm afraid.
I've got a meeting at the hospital.

Tomorrow, then?

Tomorrow night would be fine, yes.

Good.

In fact, why don't you come round here
about eight today?

Eight?

I'm Mrs. Riley, their mother.

What happened, Doctor?

Nothing to be alarmed about, Mrs. Riley.
Why don't you come in?

Thank you, Constable.

All part of the service, Doctor.

Put one in the box.

Three left. One goes in this file.

My name's Jarrett, Mrs. Yes, madam. How
can I help you?

I'd like to talk to a constable.

I'm a constable. I mean a proper
constable.

Some sort of problem, is there, Mrs.
Jarrett?

I'd like to report a smell.

And which smell would that be?

The smell from the place at the end of
my road.

Right. And what sort of smell is this
smell?

Horrible. And there's the noise.

Noise. A lorry, coming and going at all
times of the day and night.

And this is happening near your house,
is it? Just down the road, I told you.

The point being, madam, that smells
aren't a police matter, they're a civic

Yes, I'm well aware of that.

So the people that you need to talk to
are down the town hall.

Well, thank you very much, Sergeant.

Of course, if it was Lord Muck out at
Ashfordly Hall having trouble, I'm sure

you'd be out there like a shot, wouldn't
you?

What does she mean?

A proper constable?

Probably one that started shaving, I
should think.

You had no problem in finding him, then?

No, right where he said he'd be.

Is there anywhere in the area he's
likely to have strayed from?

Well, he could try Heatherlands, I
suppose.

Heatherlands? Yeah, it's a sanctuary for
retired horses.

A room by a chap called Hornby. Ned
Hornby.

Ah, not very far from where I collected
them, actually.

Well, thanks, Mr Snape. Oh, and if
anybody does come forward to claim

Ah, yeah, yeah. You'll be the first to
hear. Right.

Who... who you are?

Rinder! Gotcha.

You never talk straight to me, so pardon
me.

The sense in what you talk about I can
never see.

Rinder!

That is me.

Listen, I've found us a venue for that
little reunion we talked about.

Yeah.

Wednesday night at the Aidensfield Arms.

You'll tell all the others, will you?

Good. Hey, and tell them not to forget
to bring the wallets with them.

They're going to need them.

See you there, then.

Mr. Hornby. That's me.

Ethan Walker, Aidensfield Police.

Yes, Constable.

A pony was found wandering near here
earlier today.

Not one of yours, is it?

What sort of pony?

A chestnut, about three years old, four
white socks and a white blaze on its

face. No.

Practically all mine are ready for the
knack of the yard, to be honest.

Apart from a couple of horses riding
myself.

Besides, my poor old things wouldn't
have the energy to wander.

Or the inclination.

Well, the children who found it also
claimed that somebody fired off a

What, at them? No, not at them, but
still a bit of a fright.

I'll bet. Nobody was there to help.

Fortunately not.

Well, thank God for that, anyway.

Well, look, if you do hear of anyone
who's lost a horse, answer in the

description. You'll give me a bell,
yeah? I most certainly will.

Oh, what can I get you, gentlemen?

Come see Mrs Armstrong.

Peg Armstrong.

Oh.

You'll be the redcoats, then.

What? My friends from the holiday camp.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. There you are!

Ringer!

So the gang's all here, then, is it?

Just about.

Well, in that case, this way, lads.

Straight through and up the stairs.

Erm... I'll send David down with an
order as soon as I find out what they're

having. I'll come up with them if you
like while we're quiet. No.

No, that won't be necessary.

Oh, David will see to it.

Well, who are they when they're at home?

Friends of Peggy Armstrong's. Red coat
she knew from when she lived at Filey.

So she says.

Hayden, Phil, please.

Phil.

Are they sure it's their pony?

Oh, that is good news.

Have you let the RSPCA know?

OK, no problem. I'll pop round there in
the morning and let them know

somebody'll be round to collect it.

All right, cheers, mate.

They've still not done anything about
it.

I'm sorry?

The smell.

The smell.

I'm not Gaga, you know.

Sorry, it's... Jarrett, Mrs.

I was just on my way out, so... Dilly,
you'd better come in.

Right, gentlemen.

Laugh.

Let a gentleman see.

Just about nice. A dame you can be.

I know the way you've treated other guys
you've been with.

But must be a lady with me.

David, be a good lad, will you?

And get us another rounding.

You're not playing with that, Peggy.

That's poker.

Ooh.

Very observant of you, David.

Mr. Blaketon will be right, please,
that's all. Yeah, but Mr. Blaketon's not

going to know, is he?

Not unless somebody tells him.

And I won't, if you won't.

He's not in here, is he?

In fact, at this moment, he's probably
propping up some golf club bar somewhere

and paying twice as much as he should be
for a glass of whiskey.

So off you go, then.

There's a good lad.

Go on.

It really is the most terrible stench.

All right, Mrs. Jowett. If you leave
that with me for now, I really am

bit late.

I'll get on to it first thing tomorrow
morning, if that's all right with you.

Well, after all, it'll have to be, won't
it?

Thank you, David.

Some idiot left a rake in one of the
bunkers and I didn't see it and tripped

over it.

That's awful.

Well, it was pouring down most of the
time, so I've not missed much.

What's going on upstairs?

That's the $64 ,000 question, Oscar.

We've got a party and a reunion of old
redcoats.

Redcoats? Butlin's redcoat.

Friend of Peggy Armstrong's from her
days at the Faliolity camp.

If they're redcoats, Billy Butlin must
be desperate for staff.

I reckon that I recognise one of them as
a friend of ours. All right.

Do you remember Ringer Redknapp?

We did him for fixing races at Ashfordly
Dog Track.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, his speciality, if I remember, was
tiring the paws of the favourite to

make it go a bit slower.

That's him.

Well, you're not telling me he's
upstairs, are you? Well, if it's not

his twin.

I'll see you. What with? Beer, Matt?

You'll take my marker, won't you?

Oh, go on, then.

Two pair.

Full house.

Oh, no.

Aces and aces.

Well, well, well.

If it isn't the local chapter of the
Dark Town Poker Club.

Mr Blayton, you're in Scotland.

Well, so you thought, obviously, David.

Right, you lot, you've got two minutes
to finish your drinks and get out of my

pub. The time starts now.

No, I've been keeping a close eye on
you.

No, sir.

Give this lot an inch and they'll take a
mile.

I see that.

You'd think that a retired thug would
have more regard for the law.

Heaven knows how he managed to run a
police station.

Why, you lot, get back inside, now.

In. Back.

Now, stay in here till I tell you
otherwise, right?

There you go.

Everything under control, Gina?

Oh, yes, Sergeant.

Very quiet tonight.

Now, Blaketon, I heard you were off
golfing.

Ah, yes, well, I was, but as you can
see, I've had an accident.

Nothing too serious, I trust? No, no,
no.

Just a small sprain.

That's why I came home early.

Very wise.

After all, I suppose a golfer with a
sprained wrist is about as useful as a

-legged clog dancer, eh?

Just a social call, is it, Sergeant?

We were passing by, thought we'd pop in,
make sure you were all behaving

yourselves.

Well, it's very nice of you to keep an
eye on the place.

It's what we're here for.

Right, see you again.

Soon, I expect.

Always a pleasure to see you, Sergeant.

You know that.

Is there a problem, then? Just get your
friends out of here, fast.

And as for you two, you can consider
yourselves barred from these premises

die.

Barred? Sine what?

Die, David. That means forever. So get
out of my pub now.

Sorry I'm late. Got nabbed, though,
bleeding.

Look at Joey's, erm... It's all right.

Cheers. Cheers.

So, do you want to go out and get
something to eat, or...? I've already

actually. Oh, I see.

Well... I just thought we should talk,
really.

Fine.

You see, what happened the other night?

Well, it happened, one of those things.

But I think we should leave it at that.

I see.

Was it something I said or did?

No. No, nothing like that.

I like you, Rob.

A lot.

It's just... What?

Well... I just feel there's too much at
stake.

For both of us.

If Matthew finds out, he could contest
the divorce.

Cite you as a co -respondent.

What would that do for your career
prospects, or my position around here,

that matter?

Look, Helen... No, you listen, Rob.

We can still be friends.

I hope.

But no more than that.

At least not until I get my life back
together.

Sorry.

Yeah, so am I.

Poor David. Why did you have to be so
harsh on him?

For the record, Gina, poor David and his
auntie from hell could have cost us our

licence. He wasn't playing poker. He was
just serving the drink.

Well, a fat lot of weight, that would
have carried in court.

Frankly, I'm amazed at you, Gina,
believing a story in the first place.

Yeah, well, that's probably because I
don't have a nasty, suspicious mind like

you have, Oscar.

Never haven't been a cop of meself.

Just finish the washing up.

I'm sorry, Mrs Jart, I can't smell a
thing.

Well, you wouldn't, would you?

Why not?

Because it doesn't smell today.

Oh, I see. It doesn't happen all the
time, then, just certain days. That's

right. Any particular days?

Mondays? Wednesdays? No special day.

Only on the days when it happens.

Right, this smell, does it come from any
particular direction?

Somewhere up there.

Right.

What's it all about?

Alfie.

Alfie.

Oh, for goodness sake, lad. Cheer up.
You're beginning to depress the

Even the one lying in the chapel of
rest.

It's all right for you. You haven't been
banned, have you?

Sin die!

Look, it's just a pub, so why don't you
go for a drink?

Yeah, well, it's not just a pub, though,
is it?

Not to me, any road.

That happens to be my local.

Go and tell Oscar you were just there to
serve the drinks. You weren't playing.

Yeah, I've already done that.

What did he say?

He said it didn't matter.

As far as he was concerned... I was,
and, et cetera, before and after the

whatever that means.

Honestly, Mr Scripps, I could strangle
Aunt Peggy sometime. I really could.

You could fill Wembley Stadium with
people who cheerfully do that.

Looking for me?

I just wanted to let you know we've
managed to trace the owners of the pen.

Chris? Writing school in Thirsk.

Apparently, there's been quite a few
horses nicked from this part of

over the past six months.

After that?

Yeah.

Anyway, the owners will be around later
to collect him.

Right. And, by the way, his real name's
Reuben, apparently, not Blaze.

I think I prefer Blaze.

Yeah, I think I do, too.

Blaze.

Well, though I say so myself...

Not a bad night's work.

Honestly, playing poker with that lot's
like taking toffees off kids.

Now all we need to do is get Ringer to
redeem that marker of his and then we'll

get a few bottles in and celebrate.

Well, come on, then.

Where are we going?

I've just told you. To go and see
Ringer. To collect the money he owes me.

Why did he need to come along?

To provide the muscle, of course.

Muscle? Well, in case it proves
difficult.

Ah, yeah, well, it's not something I've
ever been very good at, you know,

physical violence.

I mean, you can get hurt getting
involved in stuff like that. All you've

do is stay in the truck, put these dark
glasses on and look menacing.

I'll do the talking. Now, come on,
before he takes off to the Costa del

somewhere with my money.

Yeah, but...

If the horse has been returned to its
rightful owner, that's something, I

suppose. Still doesn't solve the mystery
of what it was doing there in the first

place, though.

And then there's this business with the
bloke who fired the shotgun.

If the horse didn't belong to him, why
do that?

Unless it was him that nicked it in the
first place.

That's what I thought, Sarge.

Were the kids able to describe the
bloke? To be honest, I was more

with getting the injured girl to a
doctor at the time. In that case, I have

another word.

They might just remember something
useful.

Right, Sarge.

remember what I said.

Put your sunglasses on and look like you
were weaned on a pickle.

Ah!

Just leaving, were we, Ringer?

Oh, Peg, it's you.

Who are you expecting?

Marilyn Monroe?

Yours, if I remember rightly.

And it does.

unless my roomy old eyes deceive me, say
that you owe me 40

smackers. I will pay your pay. God, at
least we're agreed on that at any rate.

It's just, I'm having a bit of a
liquidity problem at present.

The liquid in question, in this case,
being your blood.

Unless I get my money.

Look.

Can you see him over there?

Sitting behind the wheel of my truck.

Oh, that.

That's David, isn't it? The lad who
served his drinks.

Yeah, but better known in some circles
as the leg -breaker.

And not because he bowls for Yorkshire,
neither.

I mean, you might feel able to terrorise
and take advantage of a poor,

defenceless, weak old woman like me, but
I wouldn't like to think what he would

do to you if I let him off the leash.

But it's the truth, Peg. You really
cleaned me out last night.

Oh, dear.

Well, you see, because when he's roused,
well, he's like a

mad dog, you know.

Well, having said that, I could pay you
in kind, like. In

fact, I could put you in the way of a
real little gold mine, if you're

interested.

Go on, then.

I'm listening.

Now, can either of you remember anything
else about the bloke who shot at you?

Was he old, young, what?

Well, a bit older than you, I think.

But younger than me mum.

And what was he wearing? Can you
remember that?

Well, he had a flat cap on.

Oh, that narrows it down a bit.

Can't be many of those in Yorkshire, men
in flat caps.

And a sheepskin jacket.

Dead expensive one.

Really?

Right, well, thanks, you girls. If you
remember anything else, you'll let me

know, yeah?

Of course.

Right, inside you two.

Why? Because you've got to look on your
faces, the pair of you, and I want to

know why.

Oh, sure.

Well, I think I'm all fit, then.

Give them some sort of mobile chip shop
or... Just be patient, David.

And soon all will be revealed.

Mrs Riley?

Come in.

That won't be necessary.

It's just that these two have so much to
tell you.

Something they should have told you a
couple of days since, if they'd not been

so frightened after doing what they did.

Well, go on. Tell him what you told me.

Patty!

Well, it's... It's just... We didn't
really just find the pony like... Like

said we did.

Oh.

We were in this field with all these
other horses, like...

Only she had to show she could ride him,
didn't she?

And she opened the gate.

You were the one who left it open.

Can you show me where this field is?

Yes. OK.

Right.

Let's go.

So, we'll start it over here, right?

So it won't interfere with the normal
running of the garage like.

Oh, that's very nice of you.

Then what were you planning to do, sit
on the steps and tell poor Jews?

What we'll do, clever clogs, is we'll
hit Mr. Blaketon where it hurts most.

Where's that, then?

In the wallet, of course, because we'll
be offering sandwiches much cheaper than

the ones he's selling across the road.
I'll drink.

And getting me bands in ADA.

It's well into the process.

Are you a man or a mouse, Bernie
Scripps?

None of your business.

This is the field.

But they've got the horses that were in
the fields when we were here.

These are all dead old.

Really? You're quite sure about that?

Oh, yeah.

And unlikely ever to be if I've got
anything to do with it. Oh, yeah.

You do realise you're going to need a
proper licence for this, do you? And

needless to say, I'll oppose your
application in court.

Then may the best man win, long as it's
a woman.

Yes.

How long's the one we've been taking in
old horses, then?

Oh, about six months.

Is he charged for the service?

I don't think so.

Must be an animal after that.

Well, I suppose he must be.

After all, even old horses need feeding.

And then there's no vet bills to be
paid.

He's seriously interested in keeping the
old beggars alive, I guess.

Right.

Can I help you?

We'd like to talk to a police officer.

I'm a police officer.

So, uh...

How can we help you?

My name's Costello.

Me and my brother here have a travelling
affair that's set up on Axley Common

this week.

Oh, yeah?

We'd like to report a theft from there
last night.

Of, uh, what exactly?

One of our trailers we use for
dispensing black peas and drinks and the

We parked it there last night and found
this morning it vanished.

Right.

Well, if you could just...

Give my young colleague here a few more
details.

So, can you describe this vehicle, sir?

Of course I can.

It's bright green, another side that
opened into a counter.

Hang on a minute.

Tell me what I see.

So what are you suggesting? That
Hornby's involved in these horse thefts?

be a possibility, Sarge.

Still, difficult to see if we can take
it any further with the strength of what

two kids told you.

Well, they also reckon that on the day
it happened, all the other horses in

field were young ones like Blaze.

But when we called round yesterday, all
the ones there were on their last legs.

Well, perhaps he shifts them around a
bit.

Gives them a change of scenery.

When I talked to Hornby the other day,
he assured me the only young horses he

has is a couple he rides himself.

So you reckon this sanctuary is a front,
perhaps?

The perfect front, I'd say, Sarge. But
why steal horses, anyway?

Bit risky, isn't it?

I mean, if you're nicking them for
retail, it's only a matter of time

somebody recognises one and reports it.

Unless you were selling them on the
continent, Sarge. And Hornby's place

be certainly well situated for that,
being so close to the port.

All right.

Worth a sniff, I suppose.

For starters, go on to the Port
Authority and find out if anybody's been

shipping horses in any sort of numbers.

If they have, you might be on to
something.

Sarge.

Nice trailer.

Yeah. In fact, it reminds us of a
trailer we used to have.

The resemblance is quite uncanny.

Why? Right down to the number plate.

Oh.

Well, now, there's two things we could
do here.

We could call the police, let them sort
it out, or you could just look the other

way while we check it.

Right. And, just to show there's no hard
feelings, you can chuck in a free tank

of petrol as well.

For all the inconvenience you've caused
us.

Right, I'll just...

You

look like somebody who's come up on the
travel chance.

I forgot to post this coupon.

How did you get on in Whitby?

The only horses I've had through there
over the past few months have been a

couple of showjumpers. Oh, well.

Can't win them all, eh?

You know, I still think Hornby's got
something going on over that sanctuary

his. Hornby?

Well, that's the name of the bloke who
owns that building you asked me to make

inquiries about.

The one who's been bugging our friend
Mrs. Jarrett.

Really?

Well, did you find out what the place is
used for?

Nobody seems to know.

Some sort of warehouse, do you reckon?

Bought the place about seven or eight
months ago.

But why does he need a warehouse miles
away from his farm?

Especially one that looks more secure
than Fort Knox.

Perhaps you should ask him.

Or perhaps I will.

No!

Thank you.

Well, that's what he's up to.

You mean they just took it and you just
stood there and let them?

I was there, they reckoned.

Anyway, they were bigger than me.

Oh, I'll murder that little weasel
ringer next time I bump into him, and

before I get me £40.

Anyway, probably never would have got
him.

Lie, I think, not with Blaketon opposing
it. Here.

Here's ten bucks.

Go and get us a few bottles, then.

All right.

Well, it's not the same, is it, drinking
at home?

Well, no.

Not when you're drinking with somebody
with a face as long as that, no.

Then again, any port in a storm, eh?

A slaughterhouse?

Yes, Sarge.

It isn't horses he's been exporting, but
horse flesh.

Having first slaughtered and packaged
the meat over here, it seems there's a

market for it over there.

It could be licensed, of course.

Why be so secretive about it, then?

I'll have to find out when the next
shipment's going through.

Already in hand, Sarge. If Mrs. Jowett's
half as sharp as I think she is.

The Mrs.

Jowett? You've met her, have you?

Our paths have crossed, yes.

Very, um, formidable lady, don't you
think, Sarge?

Oh, probably one of the people who
helped build the British Empire.

And then cost us it.

Aidensfield Police.

Well, you took your time.

Mrs. Jowett.

So, what's going on? There's lorries.

Coming and going.

And horses.

And that smell again.

Really?

All right, Mrs. Jowett. Well, you stay
inside and we'll be on our way.

Ashfordly, please.

Geoff, it's Rob here.

Mrs Jowett's just been on the phone.

We've got the green light.

Oh, Rob.

Right,

I'll round the troops up right away.

Block the gate.

Can I help you, gentlemen?

Sergeant Miller, Ashfordly Police.

You'll be Mr. Hornby, will you?

That's right.

So is there a problem, Sergeant?

This is your slaughterhouse, is that
right?

That's right.

You are fully lightened? Of course.

But the animals you slaughter are
horses, is that right? There's a law

that. Well, it all depends, Mr. Holmby,
on whether the horses you slaughter have

been stolen or not.

That's ridiculous.

Come.

So, how are the bruises now?

Don't ask.

I'm impressed.

I didn't know you could ride like that.

Didn't I tell you I used to be in the
Mounted Police?

I didn't know that.

Well?

We've come to apologise for any
embarrassment we might have caused you

night.

Right.

And as a token of our good faith, I
wanted to tell you that I've got rid of

trailer and I've abandoned my plans for
setting up in competition with you.

Very wise.

So, uh, does that mean that the ban's
lifted, Mr Bladeson?

I'll think about it.

Oh, for heaven's sake, Oscar, don't be
so miserable.

He'll get over it. What are you both
going to have?

There's a shooting incident up at
Ashfordly Hall.

My lad's been injured and you come here
suggesting that I'd put him in danger?

Well, it's not every day you get held
hostage by a vicious young thug.