Original subtitles

So, can you use the gun?

Well, I prefer fear.

Who will I be fighting?

Our enemies.

Have you ever been to prison?

Why do you ask?

The terms you're willing to take.

What did you do?

Our powers saw something in a shot window they wanted.

So I drove into it.

It's called a smash and grab. Yes, I know. I do read the papers.

Says here you've recently worked for a film actor.

Yes. As his bodyguard?

Amongst other things.

But before that, in this bookshop.

Why did you leave there?

I didn't care for it. And you're happy with this arrangement?

A book has hit life.

I have mine. It works.

I'm amazed more people don't do it.

I knew him.

Your father. I knew him before the war.

You knew him?

Jack?

How does this... I can't. I can't.

Jack, where are you going?

But your previous employer trusted you? Yes.

Despite your history?

Because of it.

Perhaps.

And should we trust you?

Well, I suppose you'll find out when the next assassin comes.

Laura.

I never did it.

Never did what?

Made shillings out of ice and put them in the meter.

What's all this corrosion then?

That's rust.

Yes, it is.

Cold, isn't it?

We could burn a few.

No, we couldn't.

Not even the Georgette Hayes? No.

Really, Nora, for someone so new to the pleasures of reading, you're fast

becoming a terrible snob.

What is it?

Feels quiet without him.

God bless the waltz again. And all who sail in her.

Oh, God.

Oh, bloody hell.

Do forgive me, my dear. I seem to be in a state of advanced repression. Oh, I

had noticed, Victor. Just stay there.

I'll fetch a cloth.

Here. For him.

Oh, thank you.

Please enjoy.

Not enough lemon juice.

Too much ice.

And I did not like the way you shook it.

Too violent.

Of course.

Excuse me.

They think I'm too violent.

It's a violent art.

Good thing I didn't waste any gin on them, then.

You're a quick learner.

I'm glad you've fallen on your feet.

I had no idea you'd be here. We haven't seen you in weeks. How are you? I

haven't got long.

What do you want?

Oh, Jack.

This is silly.

We miss you.

We both hoped you'd found a safe berth in Archangel Lane.

A home.

Booker me.

Well, our arrangement is unusual, I know, but as I said to you, when we

met... Love is where it falls.

And how does my father fit into all of that?

Yeah.

One of Mr. Book's little dalliances, was he?

Well, Book needs to talk to you about your father properly.

Look, our marriage protects us both.

Don't we have the right to be happy?

Happy?

Well, gallivanting off into the night, in with God knows who and you.

Is that the latest, is it?

The fellow with the moustache?

He's Captain Onion before the war.

Oh, dreamboat of the officer's mess, was he? Hmm.

Something like that.

Lifting slightly now, don't I?

You don't know how to pick them.

Mrs. Pug.

Well, we better not keep him waiting.

Excuse me.

Oh,

come to my room and help me dry off.

I'm a wet woman.

Give me the damn cloth.

Come on. Get your woolly hands off me.

I won't have it. For shame.

Oh, dear, sir.

Oh, you've had a right mess up.

Who's this?

Wet trousers are against the dress code, you know.

It's the Walsingham. So why don't you go back to your room, take the wet pants

off and have a little lay down.

I have never been so insulted.

I'm sure you have been.

Better like you.

Victor Orr.

My old friend, I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?

Bloody girl can't take a juke. Tell.

Can we have a couple of those?

What do you call them?

Water empowered.

For the two ladies.

For their royal highnesses, you mean.

These are on me, ladies. And may I say, you are looking superbly balkan tonight.

I salute the House of Kutari.

Whichever commissar lives in it now.

Take a good look, Trotty.

That's what happens to you when you get dethroned by the Reds.

Oh, dear.

Allow me.

So embarrassing. I do apologize.

Not at all, not at all.

Look after the pennies, and the pounds will look after themselves, what?

I,

uh, had a bit of luck on the horses.

You, uh, you know Ascot?

Very well, sir.

How's the going?

Oh, well.

Good to firm.

After this, shall we... Normally my favourite ellipsis, but I don't

think we should call it a night now, Victor.

Oh, Trotty.

You're no fun anymore.

It's amazing how different things can look without the benefit of the

Here's to Jost Allen's next stroke.

Tinker the Tonk.

Victor!

This is a Deutschmark.

Yes.

This is Chinese.

Oh.

And this is a button.

It's a very nice button.

Nora, have you been taking shillings from this tin?

No.

Remind me, what's the price of a green penguin crime novel?

A shilling.

Ah. That's better.

Ah.

Success.

Oh, it's you.

You ready to commit an affray, miss?

No, Sergeant, she was just, um, browsing. I hate to seem inquisitive,

are you here?

There's a chap been killed at the walls in them.

Poisoned. Dead in a pile of pound notes on the floor of the river bath.

Oh, that's just our sort of thing. Don't get too excited.

The inspector wants a book.

A G -book, Esquire.

There's some foreign royalty involved, it seems.

He says, uh...

Do you have anything on the Balkan rules of revenge?

Specifically, the canon of Qatari?

They're too, too ridiculously obscure.

Do you have it?

Almost certainly.

And 504, he says.

504. Room with a view?

It's all right for some, I suppose.

Mrs Book's already checked in.

Why? Oh, she's one of the suspects.

Trouble in paradise.

He says so.

What a beauty.

Yes. Might be one of those clues.

We like those.

Do you mind? Yes.

Do people really say, what's your poison, when they're at the bar?

No idea.

I don't get out much.

What do you mean? Look, we're at the Walsingham.

Who's he?

Oh, yeah.

Let's get him somewhere more prior.

Not the main entrance, please, Inspector.

I'm sorry we can't be more discreet. May I suggest a service corridor?

Yes.

Thank you, Mr. Kind.

Nothing to stop me reopening the bar tomorrow, I think.

Thank you.

Good evening, sir.

Evening. You have a reservation?

No, my wife does.

Your wife?

Mrs. Brooke. Have you seen her? I'm afraid she may be distressed.

No book.

504, Freddie.

No, I'll keep this one. Thank you.

What's happened, darling? What's this about a corpse? Why have I been scouring

my stacks? It's a Vulcan blood feud. Oh, I'm not proud of myself.

There was champagne.

A date that raised this rigmarole in the 230.

Cocktails, more cocktails than men.

Trotty, we live our own lives.

That was always the deal.

Self -flagellation is never helpful, and not nearly as much fun as someone doing

it to you.

Who was he?

Victor. Or.

Or. With two odds.

Naval captain, married, had met him before.

An air raid, 41.

He, uh, made a pass at me in... In... Where?

Please don't make me say the F word.

Foils. Yes.

Oh, Trotty.

I just fancied a good time.

Well, there was nothing wrong with that.

He turned out to be the most awful bore.

Where is he now?

In the morgue.

One last night on the tiles.

And there's something else.

Look. Thank God you're here.

You ready? For what?

To interview royalty.

It's a little irregular, isn't it? I don't care.

They terrify me. I'm not going in there alone.

Haven't you taken their fingerprints?

I've got Morris to do that.

I may be a coward, but I'm not a fool.

I have our primary text.

The Canoon of Scutari.

Looks expensive.

Will it pay for our suite, Inspector?

Oh, the late captain had taken care of that, Mrs. Bond.

You're in the room next to the princesses. Oh, what are they like?

Oh, they're glamorous in a sort of disappointed and stateless kind of way.

Perhaps it's time I kept a closer eye on them. And an ear, too.

I shall use one of those little glasses they keep by the sink.

So, was it...

Help the point, he'd done it.

It's a book of customary laws for remote mountain communities without a

magistrate or justice.

The village elders consult the text and then tell you how much reiki to provide

for your daughter's wedding, what to do if your bees escape and build a nest on

your labour's land, that sort of thing.

And who you're allowed to kill if somebody kills your cousin.

Well,

what language did you think it was going to be in?

Well, we have three native speakers on the premises, but they're all suspects.

Who's the third?

Oh, he's a rather good -looking cocktail waiter.

Well, don't fret too much. The dutiful Teutonic scholar did publish a

translation of it in the German.

Oh, you certainly speak the German.

In Italy sometimes.

So where is this translation?

Nora's looking for it now. It must be somewhere in the law section or social

science or etiquette or propping open a door.

You said there was something else?

Yes. These princesses have been given gainful employment to one of the

dispossessed.

Oh, yes.

I know.

And there he is.

I'll turn down the bed.

Sergeant Morris will be along soon to take a statement.

Yes, of course.

I'd be grateful, Mrs. Book, if you didn't leave the hotel.

It's perfectly all right, Inspector.

You have to do your duty.

You need to see the royal highnesses.

Enter.

Oh, dog.

Where is it?

Green. Straight green.

Morocco -bound folio with a lot of academic monographs bound inside,

foxed according to the catalogue.

You're no help.

What would I do without you?

Time for a little chat, Mrs. Book.

Poof.

I beg your pardon? I apologize for it.

That we had sung so low.

Remember the great banqueting table, Ruhia, hmm?

Chairs made with birch. As silvery as the snow on the mountaintop.

Upholstered with dumb masks or so. Oh, we've been in more awkward situations

than this, haven't we, Inspector?

That we have, book.

So, which is the policeman?

You or this book?

He's taking notes for me.

Helping with the... Uh, Pittman's shorthand. So useful.

Tall and red -headed.

Like the poppies of our homeland.

I realize that this will be very difficult for your royal highnesses, but

there's any detail you can recall, however small, it may help us discover

killed Captain Orr.

That is easy. I killed him.

So he did what?

It is true. I switched the glasses. He drank the poison meant for one of us.

We have a routine, my sister and I, to cause a distraction.

I believe the house is good, darling.

Whichever commissar lives in it now.

Take a good look, Trotty.

That's what happens to you if you get dethroned by the Reds.

Oh!

No! Oh, dear.

It's so embarrassing.

I do apologize.

Not at all. Not at all.

Look after the pennies, and the pounds will look after themselves. What?

It is a habit.

A necessary precaution.

Like this.

This was the third attempt on our life since we left New York.

There was a steward on the Berengaria. Can I turn over your room? Madame.

So transparent.

And that Salvation Army woman outside the opera.

Shaking her tin box.

She denied everything, of course.

Who do you think is trying to kill you? The communists, of course. Opera?

But they already have your palaces, your estates.

Our summer house on the Adriatic.

There is a lake there.

When the rising sun touches it.

It is like the blush. In the spring, our country was proclaimed a people's

republic. They want... What's the expression?

A big finish.

Hence the bodyguard.

And how are you finding him?

As he failed to prevent an attempt on our lives, I would say he has not

himself in glory.

Don't the communists also have your other sister?

We do not speak of her. Fenie, yes, the youngest. She renounced her title. We do

not speak of her.

Red scum.

She betrayed her birthright, her country, her family.

Take it. Thank you.

Of course, if this does turn out to be the case, then your switching of the

drinks will not be without consequence.

We are used to being pilloried. We will take whatever comes to us.

Right.

Now then, in your statement, you said something about this murder being

about in the Canoon of Scutari.

What does that mean?

It means that a killing like this follows certain customary principles.

It means the first thing you must do is arrest that cocktail waiter.

It smells guzzily. Guzzily.

Guzzily. Guzzily.

Guzzily. Why?

He's from the mountains. These people know the rules of revenge. They are

obsessed with them. You must arrest him.

And you must bring in any others on the staff.

Other mountain men? Yes.

Well, thank you so much.

This has been most helpful.

So you will do as we say?

No, I will not.

Why? Because, Princess, I am not your subject.

And in this country, a man is innocent until proven guilty.

Whatever altitude he was born at.

Sometimes it's better you make me proud to be from the gutter.

I really thought of myself as a Republican.

Well, it's the war book.

Changed us all.

I never really thought of myself as a Jew.

You ever come here during the blitz?

They had to let you in if there was a raid on, even without a tie.

They used to come down to the lower bar.

It's known as the fruit cellar.

That was quite the mixed grill.

You did nothing.

You're supposed to be my boyfriend, and you did nothing.

What do you expect me to do?

Nothing.

Was he the one from this morning?

Yeah. Came at me in a silk dressing gown with everything pointed north.

His name is Captain Victor Orr. Not anymore.

They already gave me a warning.

What? Yeah, apparently shouting at lecherous customers isn't the Walsingham

I'll speak to Mr. Kind.

It was Mr. Kind who gave me the warning.

One more black mark on about my arse.

Please.

You know, I've been doing okay here.

At least I thought I was.

What's the bloody point?

Easy, Anne.

I'm sorry.

You know, my dad was right about you, Ismael.

And I should have listened to him.

Leave me alone.

Careful, officer.

My friend borrows his jazz mags from the maitre d'. You can't shock me, sir.

I've been to the windmill theatre and seen those gents with the newspapers on

their laps and brought a few into the station.

Been jazzing with this one, sir.

Oh, no, that lot put me right off. Oh, you hate your royal family, dear?

not my royal family.

They've been nobody's royal family since 1940.

Ever since they left us with that chap.

Hey, Marco, what was his name?

Mussolini, mate.

I knew you'd know, mate.

Right -o, sir.

Confiscating this is evident.

You enjoy this, don't you?

Just work, sir.

Keep your temper, eh?

I suppose I usually take all that aggression out on the ice cubes.

Book for Mr. Book.

Who?

It's the Canoen of Scutari.

It's Albanian.

Mrs. Book's out of the picture.

You can't be certain of that, sir. I've read a statement, and I'm satisfied it's

nothing to do with her. But, sir... I'm satisfied, Maurice.

Clear.

So, you think it was one of us?

I don't think anything yet.

Signor Barberini?

Okay, well, I've narrowed it down to two.

A royal member of the House of Scutari.

Nafia or Ruhia?

Right -o. Method?

Poison. Something slipped into the cocktail glass after he tried it on with

Rattle. That's the chambermaid, yes? So where was she when Captain Alcoft is

last? Gone already.

Motive? You think of any reason why anyone would want to kill Captain Victor

Orr? Are you kidding?

That captain was always here with different women.

Usually in the same room.

504.

Really? Mm -hmm. City view.

Nice little bed springs.

Duchess rates for favorite patrons.

And that captain has been coming here for years.

Usually once a week. With earthquake?

You're very well informed.

No secrets at the Worthingham, sir. You see all the dirty land?

Because we have to clean it.

Some might say, Mr.

Ghazili, that it's the duty of a Grand Hotel to make sure that the private life

of the guest remains private.

And some might say, Inspector, that in a Grand Hotel, people are usually at it

like cod in a bucket.

So it's a crime of passion, then?

No.

I reckon the captain was something in intelligence during the war.

How do you know that?

They're a type.

Friendly, but tell you nothing.

With a drink.

They'll always have what the other person's having.

So, why would the princesses want to kill a British spy?

Because British intelligence handed over Scutari to the communist partisans.

And the captain recognized the princesses.

Who are they?

Should I know them?

Vulcans. Same to you.

They're fear.

And the Ruhia, princesses of the royal house of Scutari, proposed by the

communists and now drifting around the world like Flotsam.

Very glamorous, Flotsam.

Wasn't there a scandal? They did a flit and the bullion from the National Bank

somehow found its way into their hat boxes?

Something of the sort.

And?

They're drifting our way.

Or your way, to be precise.

Oh, I see.

In the market for a set of dictionaries, aren't they? They're staying at the

Walsingham, just down the road from you.

And, uh, there have been letters.

Threats. Vicious ones.

You should speak to the post office, then.

We'd be ever so grateful if you just kept an eye on them.

Told you.

You're just a bookseller. And I told... I reminded you

that we helped find young Jack.

It wasn't easy, you know.

It's you.

It's me.

Ta for, you know. Ah, don't mention it.

So is that happening at the end, is it?

Comes with a job, doesn't it?

Can I do you now, sir?

I wouldn't have killed him for it, though.

Somebody did.

Yeah.

So?

Which side are you on?

Sorry?

Which side are you on?

Well, what are the options?

Well, there's the management in this hotel who treat their staff like muck

give a girl a mouthful just for standing up for herself.

Right.

Then there's the workers.

OK, well, the workers then. Nice to hear your expression of solidarity, brother.

But it's deeds, not words, that count.

Don't you think?

Right. So why don't you go down there to that taxi stand?

Get me a nice cup of Bovril.

I can't.

Maybe later.

I've got to get back.

To their royal bloody Heinz.

Afraid so.

How does it feel?

Working for those parasites?

Is that what they are?

Well, what would you call them?

Sad. I suppose.

Yeah, a bit sad.

Well, speaking for myself, I'd line them up.

Shoot the boogers.

I can say a proper hello to you now, Edmund Kind.

Good evening.

More than kind, I used to say.

Oh, well, that's too kind.

They closed it, you know, the lower bar. The fruit cellar.

Oh, what a shame.

Yes, for redecoration.

Though when the work will actually start, I don't know.

Seems they prefer it mothballed, the management.

You mean it's all still there, the mural and everything?

Yes.

Well, we could take a look, if you'd like.

I should really be getting back upstairs.

Of course.

I suppose a little peep wouldn't hurt.

Well, the lights worked.

I don't remember there being any.

You never turned them on?

Blackout, I suppose.

I know, it was just terribly unflattering.

Yes, you're right.

Let's turn them off.

It's just a soup song.

These walls could talk.

Kim Strang is dead.

Did you hear? Kim Strang.

He used to keep his Max Factor in a gas mask box.

Well, he'd been in Egypt, hadn't he?

Had to keep that tan up.

What happened to him? He walked into the theatre showroom.

I'm sorry to say.

Somebody had his letters.

Dreadful, really.

Dreadful.

And you're very married, I see.

Very, very married. Congratulations. Thank you.

And thanks for your help with the other matter. Not at all. What does Jack know?

That my wife and I have an arrangement, as I knew his late father.

Nothing more?

He found that difficult enough to take, ran out on us that very night.

Floated here?

Where he is gainfully employed, thanks to you.

And able to keep an eye on the other bodies floating around the regal scutari

ones. Why do you need to keep an eye on those?

It's possible they were the intended victims.

Not the captain.

It's a working hypothesis.

Are you with the police now, Gabriel?

You always were a dark horse.

It makes up a substantial part of my charm. Christ, isn't that dangerous? I

mean, one false step. I'm all too well aware of that, Edmund.

Although I do have a special letter from Churchill.

Still, he probably shouldn't be found in a dimly lit basement bar with... With a

terribly handsome old friend?

No, perhaps not.

Top of the grid.

And the Walsingham isn't connected to the grid. It has its own oil -powered

generators that bring it in by the barrel. Everything depends on it, even

plumbing. And what's a grand hotel without power and hot running water?

Well, I suppose it's just a big building full of people who are rather cold and

rather hungry and very, very rich.

I should go back.

Need to.

No big surprises on the poison front, Inspector. The deadly glass contained

boring old hydrochloric acid.

Can't all be virtue, I say.

Virtue, I see.

There's a thumbprint. Enough for an arrest.

Enough for a hanging, maybe.

Okay, thank you. Bye.

Where's Edie Rethel?

Oh, um, I'll check.

Very good, sir.

Did the blessed sergeant get everything he required from you, dear?

Well, I took him through it in exhausting detail.

Where did you get to?

I've been talking to the staff.

Yes, very nice of you.

The ones who served you cocktails tonight.

Well, it was really only the younger one.

Guzzilli. If you say so.

Apparently, he poured a whole round down the sink, ice and fruit and all.

Could he have tampered with the second round?

Yes. Nobody was looking because of the brouhaha.

Brouhaha?

Yes, one of the princesses dropped her reticule. There was loose change all

the floor.

Yes, I've heard about that. And after the brouhaha?

Well, I dragged it back to the bar. He made a toast.

And then there was the Ferrari.

A brouhaha and then a furore. It was very confusing.

Oh, and there was a woman.

A woman? I've just remembered. She handed me a cloth.

Like St. Veronica on the road to Calvary.

To mop up Victor Orr's trousers.

There was something about the look she gave me.

People were recoiling in pure horror. It was burning his neck out, Book. You

could hear it crackle.

I'm sorry you had a beastly time.

I just wanted to get

stinker and wake up somewhere with clean sheets and three egg omelettes. I

wanted something.

So I wanted him.

I do love you, Mrs. Book.

Ditto.

Book.

Yes?

We never really talk.

Talk?

About the arrangement.

What to talk about?

Well, to see that all's well, that we're both okay. All is well. Look, you left

the light on for me.

I could be making love in this.

In the dark.

Has anyone told Victor or his wife?

It's not like she was expecting him to come home. Do you know who she is?

I don't really know who he was.

Still.

I'm afraid he did get her the night here.

Isn't it marvellous?

No clouds tonight.

Nowhere for the stars to hide.

We never really had a proper honeymoon, did we?

Bit of a diary clash.

The Luftwaffe had their hearts set on Eastbourne too.

The beach was very pebbly anyway. And covered in barbed wire.

Doesn't worry you, though.

Disappoint you.

What? The absence of landmarks, declarations, grand gestures.

Oh, no, book.

In fact, I'm going to make one now.

Who is?

Let's order a bloody huge bottle of champagne.

I've got our papers stamped

and signed.

Tickets too? Can't you do anything discreetly, my love?

We have five minutes till it leaves, platform six.

We're going to be in Paris for breakfast.

There are no Nazis in Paris, but there are quest walls, so it's all going to be

fine.

I can't come with you, Buck.

For the same reason that you must leave.

Oh,

and I must return this to you, my dear

fellow.

I love a good book.

A beautiful book.

And how easy it is to picture myself on some winter evening

in the country lying with this particular book.

It moves me so much.

But I'm afraid I cannot keep it.

I know it's frailties.

And some books get burned, you know.

And I should not like to be responsible for the loss of this one.

Because it is so dear to me that I know it by heart.

Henceforth, wherever thou mayest roam, my blessing, like a

line of light, is on the waters day and night,

and like a beacon guards thee home.

You should read German.

It's the kind. I'm doing the rounds, explaining about the situation.

Be so good as to move around a little less silently. It arouses suspicion.

Forgive me, Your Royal Highness. It's my training, you see. It's mine, too.

An engineer is investigating.

I do apologize for any inconvenience.

We are accustomed to hardship.

What are you carrying? Show me.

This is the canoon. The canoon of Skutari.

Why do you have this? I'm taking it to Mr. Book in the next room.

He's helping the police.

This is most interesting.

Continue.

Well, he's a sort of expert witness, and he's staying here with his wife, who I

believe... Hey, man.

Continue on your way.

Good night.

A book for Mr. Book.

What is it, dear?

It's that book you wanted.

Oh, very good.

The lights were on the blink up here.

An engineer is investigating.

I do apologize for any inconvenience.

Is there anything more I can do for you?

Well, tracking down our champagne would be nice.

Of course.

Extraordinary man.

Smell of night, though.

Gardenia.

Capital. Just what we need.

They're taking their time with that champagne, aren't they?

I think they're having trouble below with the generators.

You don't need champagne, do you, Book?

Just anything with footnotes. And a bibliography.

Maybe an erratum slip.

I used to love this place, you know.

In the war, the rooms were cheap, 35 shillings a night.

Well, the ones nearest the V2s, anyway.

Always plenty of life down in the bar.

A bit too much, sometimes.

And now the Walsingham is listing, like an old ship.

Well, I'd like to smash a bottle against it.

Let me tell the story of an old lady fair, standing sentimental across the

in the city's Bonny Square.

Let me tell the story of the journey down to hell from the dear, dilapidated

Walsingham Hotel.

Some came to stay, to rest, to play.

Some came to labor every day.

Some came to sound the passing bell for the dear old Walsingham Hotel.

But who killed Captain Victor Orr?

Princess, waiter, maid, or more?

Who came to sound the final bell for the dear old Walsingham Hotel?

Well then, that's that.

What was that?

Edith! Edith! Are you okay?

I need help.

I should go to the bathroom.

One more step and I'll...