All language subtitles for man_in_a_suitcase_s01e16_the_whisper

The master won't be long.

Do you want something, Father?

A drink to refresh you, Father.

Thank you, no.

We want to please you.

You always please me.

Ah, good evening, Father Loyola. Mr.
Spencer.

Hello, Father. Sorry to have kept you
waiting. We've been packing.

Boy. Oh, think of it.

24 hours and then London.

Civilization, sophistication, the
fashion shows.

Oh, to the mercy.

Do you know, Father, I haven't got a
thing to wear.

Ominous words from my wallet.

Well, what's my name?

Can I tempt you? No, thank you, no.

Oh, cheers.

Ah, that's better.

Your stated dinner, of course.

Oh, I'm afraid I've got to get back to
the village. Oh, pity.

Still, it's very nice of you to come and
see us off.

That wasn't exactly the purpose of my
visit.

Oh?

Well, what then?

It's the overtime.

Overtime? Yes, the harvest has been
gathered on schedule.

You will keep your promise.

Are you suggesting that I won?

I don't know. I'm just reminding you.
Well, they'll get their overtime.

Good. I'm delighted to hear that.

Are you really going to pay them
overtime?

It's their due. They've worked very
hard. A great deal to your influence.

What are they going to do when they get
all that money?

They'll get drunk.

I'm sure God doesn't want them drunk.

Oh, he is tolerant.

However, they are impatient.

Can I tell them when they might expect
it?

Yes, I'll deal with it when I get back
from England.

Good, good.

Well, have a good trip.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

Goodbye, Miss Spencer.

Marcus, I'm frightened.

Don't worry.

He's a priest.

Is that how they're supposed to behave?

He was almost threatening you. Don't
worry, dear, don't worry.

The men, they've changed, Marcus.

Don't you notice their hostility?

Everything's changed since he came here.

What's he after?

I don't know.

Are you going to pay the overtime?

We'll see.

It's between Loyola and myself.

Because once you give in... The rock
sets in.

Yes, I know.

We're a long way from civilization
surrounded by them.

I'm frightened.

Spencer Plantation.

I'd call to London to Mr. McGill.

Yes, try it again, will you, please?

Oh, Mr. McGill.

Mr. Spencer.

What can I get you?

Oh, bourbon on the rocks, if you have
it, please.

Well, I've heard many good things about
you.

You couldn't have heard many good
things.

Well, what I've heard has suited me
anyway.

I'll come straight to the point, shall
I?

Why not?

I want you to investigate this man.

He's a priest.

Yes.

Jesuit, to be precise.

Well, why?

Well, let's sit down, shall we?

I own a vast tobacco plantation in
central Africa, which provides

the whole of the African community in
the district.

The owner -labor relationship is
exemplary, quite an unusual feat in our

-torn continent.

I've just sold my latest harvest for a
record price, and I'm very anxious to

share some of the profits with the
workers.

Don't you see, my friend?

The African lacks even an elementary
knowledge of money, so it would be very

silly of me to make direct payments to
them. But on the other hand, Father

Loyola has some very commendable views
on welfare. He'd be the right person to

supervise the funds.

Well, don't you trust him?

I find him a most admirable person.

Deeply loved by the natives, who
incidentally believe him to be a saint.

And don't you believe in saints either?

No, but I do.

Well, then what's the problem? What are
you worried about?

He's a mysterious newcomer.

He could be tempted by the money.

That's quite a lot of it.

Also, I have certain misgivings about
Father Loyola.

I want to be sure about him.

And that's it?

That's all?

No other reasons?

Oh, none, of course.

My wife and I look upon the Africans as
our children, and backward, but our

children nonetheless.

And like all good parents, you're just
checking up on the teacher.

Precisely.

I don't like the idea of investigating a
priest too much.

Oh, come now. It's not all that serious.

My wife's worried about it. I'd like to
set our minds at rest.

I think how happy you'll make us if, as
I imagine, your investigation's proven

to be genuine.

What do you say?

I say it's going to cost you.

Cheers.

Many of our brothers have been killed in
Africa.

Many others have been expelled.

But in any case, no Father Ignatius
Loyola has ever been attached to our

mission.

Do you think you might find anything if
you look through your old records?

I don't need to.

I couldn't possibly forget a man blessed
with the same name as that of our

founder's saint.

Oh, I guess you couldn't. Well, try the
other missions.

I have. It's no deal.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Yeah.

Perfection. Yeah.

Try the Vatican.

You like my legs, darling?

They're okay.

They're beautiful and you can't take
your eyes off.

If I told anyone that you were the
Globe's special Vatican correspondent,

would believe me. I can be serious when
I have to.

But who wants to be serious every
second, every day, every year, every

Besides, I like letting my hair down.

Don't you think I'm lovely with my hair
down? I think you're great, hon, but...

I can't seem to concentrate on it
completely until after you tell me about

Father Loyola.

There is no Father Ignatius Loyola on
missionary work for the Jesuits, nor for

any other mission in Africa.

Then who is he?

I don't know. I checked all the
missions.

I tried the Vatican, and no one ever
heard of him, so I guess he's a phony.

I told you.

He doesn't behave like a priest.

I want a complete dossier on that man
McGill.

Check his whole life. England, Africa,
and everything in between.

It's going to cost you more.

I don't care. I want to know who he is
and what he's after.

When are you flying back?

We're booked to fly back next Wednesday.

No, you go to Paris without me.

I've got to get back to the plantation.

I can't leave it to him.

I don't want to think of you out there
all alone.

It has to be done.

I won't say anything about this to him,
not yet.

Why not?

Because at the moment, it'd be his word
against mine and the Africans.

Love him more than they fear me.

You bring me the evidence, Miguel. Then
I'll take it up with him.

Okay. Be careful.

All right.

Very careful.

Glass of port, Father.

Thank you.

And when will you pay them, then?

Soon. You know how it is. Currency
regulations, clearing checks, it all

time. They should have been paid before
this. Yes, I know, and I'm sorry.

But don't worry, they'll get their
reward.

By the end of this week.

From anyone but a priest, that might
sound like an ultimatum.

Yes, I expect to have the matter settled
by the end of the week.

Good.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

It's nice of you to come.

Thank you for the very enjoyable meal.

Father, can I borrow your Bible?

Of course.

Keep it. I have others.

Penny took ours with her to Paris.

Oh.

I'm very glad to hear that.

Thank you, Father.

Good night.

Good night.

What do you say, Samuels?

Been anybody up lately?

I like you, McGill.

Marry me.

After your divorce comes through.

You'll get a steady job first.

I like security.

Okay, let's forget the formalities.

Are you repaying all favors?

I'm repaying... Yours.

Ours.

Photostat copies.

That's identical.

Two peas in a pod.

Yep.

Now, who is he?

You're a crafty one, McGill.

Really?

After reward, eh?

What reward?

Ten thousand smackers.

Ten thousand?

Buy a pump with that and retire.

Where'd you get the fingerprints?

From the Bible.

Ask a silly question.

Now, what's this guy's name and what's
he done?

Porter. Alfred Porter.

Wanted for fraud.

Arson, robbery, violence, you name it,
he's done it.

Bank job, the last lot.

Ah, that's where the reward comes in.

Which you will not be collecting.

Why not?

Because you're about a year too late, me
old China.

Unless you can raise the dead.

Porter's gone to his maker.

He died in Africa.

Hearing the day of judgment?

Oh, yes, sir. Who wouldn't? A newborn
babe.

You want to know what the future holds
for you?

Well, you've come to the right place.

No, I'm an old friend of Alfred's. In
fact, I just got in from the States. My

son's? Yes, sir. You're Mr. Porter,
right?

Yes.

Yes, well, that's different, isn't it?

I never charge my son's friends.

What do you prefer?

Tara? The Zodiac?

Beans? Tea leaves? Palmistry?

Or spirits?

The dear departed ones.

No, sir, I have no preference in that
area. I'm just trying to locate Alfred.

We had a little business deal going and
I'd like to talk to him. Oh, yes.

Do you have any idea where I might find
him?

Indeed I do.

I talk to him every day.

Oh, great. Spirits can travel all over
the world.

Good for them.

You don't mean Alfred's dead, do you?

How else could I communicate with him?

He's out there in the hereafter.

Well, how did he die?

As a soldier.

While he was in Africa.

Mr. Porter, I believe Alfred's still
alive.

He is, of course he is.

But in the kingdom of God.

Would you like me to get in touch with
him? I could contact him now. I'll

arrange the sales. No, no, no, no, no,
no. Thank you very much. I appreciate

McGill.

Don't be contemptuous.

Nor disbelieve me. I do know things.

Be careful.

I see death when I look at you walking
by your side.

Oh, well, don't worry about him, sir.
We're old friends.

Thank you.

Where are my servants? Where are the
field hands?

Would you care for some breakfast?

Where the devil are they?

They're on strike.

Strike? Yes.

What do you mean, strike? What strike?

By ignorant savages, they're not allowed
to go on strike. They haven't got the

right. Well, it's time they did.

They worked for that overtime.

And you promised me you'd pay it.

Oh, no.

I promised a Jesuit priest, on condition
that he would use the money for their

benefit.

And how else would I use it?

You go out there and call them back to
work.

Immediately. I cannot do that until you
pay them.

Then I'll tell them about you, the
truth, the unholy, blasphemous truth

you.

What is the truth about me? That you're
an imposter.

Am I?

You're not a priest at all.

You're a fraud.

A phony.

I met some Jesuits in my time, not like
you.

What else?

I've checked.

I know what you really are.

You're a crook.

Then I suggest that you go to the
villagers and tell them that.

Bluffing won't help you.

Bluffing? What will you tell them? That
I have no right to wear this habit?

What would that mean to them?

Do you think they care whether I'm
ordained or not?

It could make a difference to us, at
least.

And you never intended to pay that
overtime.

Oh, but I did.

I thought Father Loyola would keep these
savages quiet for a few years.

A little more productivity.

Oh, yes, I'd have paid the money to a
priest, but not you.

Well, then, the strike will go on.

Don't push me.

I built this place. I'll protect it.

I'll call in government troops if I'm
forced to.

I can tell you what happened last time
the government sent the troops in.

Yes, I heard about it. It was a
massacre.

Men from this village were killed.

Not very pleasant.

Not something I want to happen here.

Do you?

Then pay the overtime.

Then call off the strike.

Alfred Porter, 11536, killed in action
while on patrol November the 16th, 1966.

So I remember that.

Messy business.

Then it always is in Africa.

You sure there's no mistake?

Mistake? My dear fellow.

So you recruit criminals for your
mercenary army?

It was a time of emergency.

The situation was very nasty.

Still, that's neither here nor there.

Actually, if you want to know exactly
how Porter died, I think I can supply

with a first -hand report.

I'd really appreciate that.

Yes, my Batman was out with the same
patrol, if I remember right.

Batman?

But they went out with the cavalry.

Perhaps in your army, Mr. McGill.

Come in.

Sir? Stand at ease, Corporal.

Corporal, in 66 we sent a patrol into
the southern province.

The messy one.

Weren't you on it?

I was, sir.

Well, this gentleman is from London.

I'd like you to tell him what happened
on the patrol.

Well, as much as you remember.

He's interested in the mercenary we
lost.

Porter.

Not much to tell, sir. It was a
rebellion against the plantation owners.

Probably instigated by communists intent
on damaging the economy of the country.

We were sent to put an end to it, which
we did promptly and efficiently.

All the known rebels were put to death.

That's efficient.

Very efficient.

That's what I said, sir.

Was Porter killed during that efficient
operation?

Oh, no, sir.

We had no casualties during that.

The rebels were trapped, you see. We
were free to do as we pleased.

Porter died on the way back to HQ.

How?

We ran into an ambush, sir.

A suicidal attack by a bunch of fanatic
rebel sympathizers.

We killed them all, of course.

Lost 12 men, including those reported
missing.

Then Porter was reported missing?

No, sir. He was killed.

And you're sure about that?

Yes, sir.

Could I have a photostatic copy of your
report on that incident?

By all means.

See to it, Corporal.

You are in a black man's location.

Alone.

Not safe.

Have a seat, man. I'd like to buy you a
drink.

Why? Forget the truth.

What truth?

About Porter.

Come on, man. Sit with me.

What are you drinking?

McGill's money.

Matthew Stalinger, Corporal.

16589.

Tell me everything you know about
Porter.

I told you.

But you lied.

No, sir.

Well, he's still alive.

I don't believe in resurrection.

Linger, let's just be straight ahead
with each other.

Porter's in this country right now
posing as a Jesuit priest.

A priest.

That's right. So if you know what you're
doing, okay.

Because it's your problem. And good
luck.

But if you're protecting him for some
reason, he's a criminal, man. Don't

him. Is that all?

Yeah. Unless you can tell me more.

Why should I?

Because he's tricking your people.

That's nothing new.

Selena, help me.

Please.

You ever met Porter?

No.

I first met him when he joined up to
kill for money.

That rebellion we put down, the
massacre.

You should have seen Porter.

Lining them up on their knees.

touching the base of their necks, making
sure the bullets wouldn't bounce off,

and shooting them one by one, changing
guns every sixth shot between steps.

That was Porter, the death collector.

Where were you? What were you doing?

Reloading his revolver.

And that's just about what you're doing
right now.

What do you mean? By not telling me all
you can about Porter. Why is he posing

as a priest?

Don't you understand?

He's dead.

They all... I went for him in the
ambush.

Then he escaped.

I saw his corpse.

How was he killed?

No head.

Decapitated.

The absolute way of death.

Yeah, except that you made a mistake,
Selinger, because he's still alive.

I swear to you. Believe me. I always
believed the white man.

Waiter. I'll tell you.

Okay, now, stop searching for my son.

Why? He's dead.

He's dead? Why are you here?

The old elf is dead.

Drop your search.

If it's money you want, I can give you
some.

Not a fortune.

Please, believe me, let the dead lie in
peace.

I don't want to kill you, but I will if
I must.

I failed him.

You mean you failed him because you
didn't kill me?

No, because I tried to kill you.

It would be marvellous if I didn't lift
you.

Hey, where are the servants?

Here.

On strike.

Strike?

Who's going to carry the luggage?

Well, I guess we're going to have to
carry it all by ourselves, ma 'am.

That's absurd.

How are we going to strike?

We're not allowed to go on strike.

Masakila, come here.

Yes, Father?

Who is that?

Lady Buono.

And another Buona.

Another?

Is he in uniform?

Uniform.

Don't worry about it. Go and play.

So our father Loyola is a fake priest, a
criminal on the run, an ex -mercenary,

and a mass murderer.

And he has the gall to come back here
and tell us what to do. I'm indebted to

you, McGill.

Only till you pay me.

Now, what do you intend to do now?

Tell you what we know.

He'll be off like a rocket and the
strike will collapse.

I'm not so sure.

Darling, Africans are like sheep.

When they find they've lost a leader,
they'll have to turn to you for help.

No, I mean, I don't think Loyola would
go.

I told him he was a fake. It made no
difference. He just dug his heels in

deeper. They'll turn him over to the
Africans.

When they discover that their saint is
covered in blood, the blood of their own

people, they'll tear him apart.

Is that what you want, Spencer?

No, not really.

If they kill one white man, they could
kill others.

No, you take Porter.

Fly him back to England. Turn him in.
Ten thousand pound reward.

What do you say, McGill?

I don't say, not yet.

Oh, really?

Listen, I don't understand why he's
posing as a priest.

I don't know why he came here, of all
places, either, where he could so easily

be recognized. That's a rich plantation.

There are plenty of rich plantations.

He ought to be shot.

Look, he knows he's suspect.

He hasn't run.

Why? I'd have thought that was obvious.
He won't make a move until he's got his

hands on that money. Then you won't see
him for doubt.

Just get him out of here, McGill.

Because tomorrow morning at dawn, I'll
break that strike.

One way or another.

I'm afraid it's not a very good piano.

Well, it's a better piano than I am
pianist.

Mr.

McGill, I want to appeal to you.

Can't you get that man to go away
quietly without any fuss?

I can't sleep for thinking about it.

Wouldn't want you to lose any sleep.

Well, he's upset.

everything and turning everybody against
us.

I fear he used to be so happy and
peaceful.

Please make him go, Mr. McGill. Just
make him go away.

Mrs. Spencer, a man isn't what he was.

He's what he is.

I don't know what Father Loyola is. I
don't care about all that. I don't care

what he was or what he's done. I just
want him to go away.

You will do your best, won't you, Mr.
McGill? I'll do what I can.

Thanks.

I just can't go on living in fear.

Your door was open.

It always is.

McGill's my name.

I was, uh... I was trying to reach you.

And you did?

Well, he hears all of us, of course.

You've come for me?

Yeah.

Father?

In a moment.

You must excuse me. A woman is dying. I
must go to her.

Go to her?

How much do you know about me?

Just about everything.

You police?

No.

The police is dying, Amos.

Will you wait for me?

Will you come back?

Yes. I swear I will.

Wait for me.

You don't need to wait here. Wait up at
the Spencer's.

I'm sorry.

I'm very late.

You sure are.

Shit, Dad.

I know.

You know? How?

I was right behind you.

You followed me?

Yeah.

You must have been pretty good. I didn't
see you.

You didn't?

No, I didn't.

Then why'd you come back?

Come on now, Porter.

You know Spencer's on to you.

And you're after the reward.

In fact, you're after Spencer's money.

What?

Money?

Salvation.

Salvation?

Are you expecting me to believe that?

I hope so.

The man with your past, what kind of
salvation are you talking about?

I've changed somewhat.

In what way?

It's a hard thing to describe. Why not?

There's some things you can't
communicate.

Porter, don't you understand? Spencer's
going to tell the Africans who you are

and that you slaughtered them.

Slaughtered them.

And more than that, much more.

I knelt them down in front of me and I
shot them one at a time, walking and

killing.

And I enjoyed it.

I enjoyed it.

At the end, I looked back at them.

All dead. Clay and blood.

Twisted.

Except for one.

He was staring at me.

He was dead, but he...

He was staring at me.

And he asked me why I'd done it.

He was dead.

It was God, of course, asking me.

And then he told me what I must do. I
must try and help these people that I'd

nearly destroyed.

There was an ambush.

One of our men was decapitated.

I switched identification with him.

One mercenary dead, one missing.

No one to care which was which.

Why, you come back here where you could
be recognized.

God help me.

Why pose as a priest?

Because I felt I had become one.

McGill, I must carry on with this work.

What are all those drums?

Sandaba.

What's that?

Tribal council.

The elders are meeting to pass judgment
on him.

When the drums stop, they will have
reached a verdict on the basis of the

excellent documents you provided,
McGill.

I told you I'd break that strike.

You know what they'll do to you?

Yes.

Look, Porter, why don't you run?

I won't stop you.

I'm sure you won't.

Then get going.

No, I'm staying.

It's your last chance, Porter.

They'll kill you.

If you don't get out of here, your blood
will be on your own head. It'll be on

your head, too.

What do you mean by that?

Listen, you lied to me in London,
Spencer, when you told me the only

hired me was to protect the Africans.

All you want to do is squeeze the last
ounce of work out of them.

Use them, bully them around in their
country. How dare you preach morality at

us? At least we haven't butchered the
beloved savages.

Listen, you were willing to see him
butchered, though, weren't you, ma 'am?

Your job's finished, McGill. Get out of
here.

Get out of here, both of you!

Yes, what is it?

A word, please, with Father Loyola.

There is no father loyal.

Excuse me.

The chief has sent me, father, to ask
you a question.

It is difficult.

Don't be afraid.

I am afraid only of your answer.

The question is this.

Is what they say about you the truth?

Did you kill people from this village
during the massacre?

Now we shall hear the holy man.

The answer, member, is yes.

You will come with us to the chief for
judgment.

Of course.

We'll wait for you.

I've got to.

And I'm going to have to stop you.

What, by force?

You can try.

But I assure you, McGill, that in the
line of violence, I'm at least as good

you are.

I thank you for your concern, but please
let me pass. I can't. It's just

suicide.

When a man confesses to a crime and is
punished, we call it justice.

Then get justice in London where there
are courts.

But from barristers and wigs, no.

My business is here with the people I've
wronged.

Oh, stop this farce, McGill. Let him go.

Now, you shut up!

I said let him go!

You're okay.

They've forgiven me.

They've forgiven me.

So what's wrong?

I'm banished. I'm exiled.

What do you mean?

They don't want me.

They don't want me here anymore.

What are you going to do? Where are you
going to go?

I might as well go back to London with
you.

So quiet.

It's all over.

What do you think happened?

We'll find out soon enough.

He was a thief and a murderer.

Is that all he was?

Yes, of course.

But, McGill, why did he take their side?

He seemed to come to detest us. Why,
Marcus?

Let's not think about it.

It's all over.

You're supposed to knock before you
enter rooms, member.

I'm sorry, sir.

He has a habit in entering nice leftly,
so as not to be noticed.

Ah, member, we've had no breakfast and
I'm absolutely famished.

That is not quite the purpose of my
visit, ma 'am.

Oh, what then?

It is, sir, a question of the overtime
you owe us.

Father! Mr. Keeler.

You can't come with me, Arthur.

I'll see you later sometime.