All language subtitles for The Detectives s04e02 Fur Coat No Knickers

It says in this week's quiz there are 19
different second names for English

football teams.

I hate all that.

Look, we'll just get a newspaper or a
football yearbook or something.

They don't have newspapers yet. Right,
where are we?

The 11th century.

All right, lads?

Yeah, where's the body? In the stone
chamber.

Here, Louis.

Yeah?

Did you get All Socks Memo? Oh, yeah.

How many you got?

Three. Town, City, United.

Three? Is that all?

Well, we've only just started.

I've got eight just standing here.

What eight you got?

I ain't telling you.

You philistine.

Nineteen. Yeah.

According to Allstop's memo, there are
19 second names of football teams in the

English league.

Not including non -league? Yes. Right.

City, town, united, county.

Good. Four.

Four. Well, write them down then. I'm
going to. I'm going to.

So, what's the cause of death?

Well, my doctor, but I think the knife
might have something to do with it.

So, how many you got?

Eleven.

What about you?

Four. We've got town, city, united.

Classified information.

I know the grass is wet.

Yes, I've told the king about me piles.

Well, I just have to make sure when I
die I land on me front, all right?

Billy! Billy!

Oh, Dr Death!

Oh, you'll be right at home here amongst
the blunt, rusty blades and dead

bodies. Oh, do be quiet, Louis.

I brought the initial forensic report.
Single stab wound, massive hemorrhaging,

double -edged ornamental Saxon dagger.

So, how many you got?

How many what have I got?

Second names of football teams in the
English League.

Oh, Louis, do you really think that
Derek Allsob's... pathetic little trivia

quizzes are worthy of the attention of a
man in my position?

No, what's this then?

He's got five.

He's a doctor. Can't read his
handwriting.

Allsop's got a lot to answer for.

You don't have to read his memos, you
know. I glanced at it on the notice

and it's been driving me mad ever since.

Did you try his quiz last week?

What? English teams with an X in their
name?

Hey, we got that one in three days.
Well, I was halfway through scraping out

old brain pan and suddenly it came to me
and I screamed Halifax at the top of my

voice.

I had to explain to the lab assistant
that I'd forgotten to pay my mortgage.

Well, we reckon we'll have this one all
wrapped up by the end of play today,

don't we, brother? Oh, by the way, your
eyewitness is waiting to speak to you.

He's in the tent near the portcullis.

Good morning.

I'm DC Briggs. That's DC Louis.

And you are?

William.

William what?

The Conqueror.

Oh, sorry. Keith.

Keith Hall.

Was it you who found the body?

No, no, no. It was him.

Who are you?

Me? Oh, I'm a Norman.

Norman?

Norman Soldier.

So. So, did you find the body?

Well, it found me.

Did you see who did it?

No, I didn't see a thing.

Oh, yeah.

I wasn't wearing my glasses, you see.

Glasses aren't allowed on the
battlefield.

What time was this?

I don't know.

Watches aren't allowed either.

Funny thing, though.

Hang on.

Have you written down Port Vale?

Oh, I nearly forgot.

I just opened one eye and I could see
just up his kilt, see.

And I swear he was wearing pants.

Underpants.

Waifuns, they were.

Purple.

Well, that narrows it down a bit. Could
be anybody.

Except Sharon Stone.

No, but you see, we're not allowed to
wear pants, either.

Pants weren't invented.

He was cheating, he was.

Hang on. So everybody on the
battlefield, apart from the killer,

coat, no knickers?

You could be blackballed for wearing
pants.

I think we stand a fair chance of being
blackballed without them.

OK.

What's going on here? I wondered when
you were going to turn up. Oh, yes,

I've been outside drilling my Danish
pipe carriers, actually. Oh, really?

one of your Saxons has actually really
killed one of my Normans. How do you

it was one of my Saxons? Of course it
was one of your Saxons. Oh, yes, I tried

the first thing that goes wrong. Blame
the bloody Saxons. I mean, like last

year, when that chip man went on fire.
That was a Saxon. I thought we both

eventually agreed that was a Viking. Oh,
yeah.

Here. Get off!

You French twerp! All right, then. Come
on! Calm down!

You could have someone's eye out with
that, you know.

Riggs, Louis, how are things going,
then?

Oh, well, so far, sir, we could have the
King of the Saxons and William the

Conqueror for threatening behaviour with
offensive weapons.

We've got a bloke called Norman who
claims he didn't see anything.

Uh, my name's Bruce, and...

Can I have my game boy back, please?

Do you have any ideas who did the
murder?

Bloody long -haired Saxon hippie.

What's the matter with you people?

There's families out there who come for
a day out. They haven't come to see you

lot fighting.

Well, they have, actually.

Come on, Nicky, mister.

Dagger, sword, helmet. Three months
minimum.

Do you have a description?

Underpants, sir.

What?

A killer is a purple underpants man,
sir.

You know the type.

Probably drives a Cavalier, badminton on
Wednesdays, that sort of thing.

What do you suggest?

Well, we could line up the entire Saxon
and Norman armies and get them to lift

their kilts.

But if you do that, you might take them
off.

He's right.

I think we'd better keep his underpants
under our hats for now.

How many men are out there?

There's 500 good soldiers out there,
plus assorted camp followers, a dozen

serfs, six or seven lepers, and a
marquee full of French prostitutes.

It's the wives of the lads taking part.
They make the sandwiches.

Right, Fritz, Louis, you talk to the
Saxons and Normans. I'll handle the

prostitutes.

Would you like me to have a word with
the stewards in the Park Rangers?

Great Park Rangers!

That's brilliant.

Now, some of you may already have heard
that around three o 'clock, Peter

Stafford was murdered.

Here.

And all of you were taking part in the
battle in this area at the north end of

the battlefield.

North end?

Preston North End?

Yes!

As I was saying. At the north end of the
battlefield, close to this small wood.

Forest. What?

Nottingham Forest.

Brilliant. Eight.

Excuse me.

What's Nottingham got to do with it?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Nothing at all.

Right.

It seems highly likely that this murder
may just be a case of someone getting a

bit carried away by the drama of the
occasion.

So, we can do this the easy way, or we
can do it the hard way.

Can't we, Bob?

Can't we, Bob?

Lake Norient.

Exactly.

Lake Norient.

That night.

And that is my point exactly.

The old late Norient, Nottingham Forest,
Preston North End set of circumstances

that adds up to one thing.

So, come on.

Who wants to confess?

Accrington Stanley.

That's non -ly. I'm done.

What is it exactly that you're getting
at?

We want the person who got carried away
this afternoon to confess.

Well, how do you know it was one of us
lot?

It could be anybody.

It could be a steward.

Or one of those park rangers.

We've got Queen's Park Rangers. What do
you think, we're stupid or something?

This is hopeless.

Oh. Did any of you know Peter Stafford
to talk to?

What I mean is, do any of you know why
someone would want to kill him? Did he

have any enemies?

Four more, sir.

Four more what?

Four more possible lines of inquiry,
sir. Oh, good, good.

So none of you knew anything about Peter
Stafford at all?

Oh, well, if no -one else has got the
courage to say anything, I will.

Like the fact is, Superintendent, Peter
Stafford had slept with half the women

in his tent.

He'd find out eventually anyhow.

Like the fact is, Superintendent, Peter
had no interest in history whatsoever.

He only came to these recreations for
one reason.

While the rest of the men were out
fighting, he was creeping around the

tent seducing their wives.

Is this true?

So... How many of you had the pleasure
of his company?

Pleasure? One.

Anyone else?

Come on, come on, this is a serious
matter.

You did, I know you did.

It seems he was a bit of a wanderer.

He was the original wild rover,
superintendent.

From the looks of things, he must have
been very athletic.

Yeah!

We've got wanderers. And athletic.

Brilliant. You got something there,
lads?

No, nothing at all.

What's this? List of suspects?

City,

town, county, rovers.

And what's this one?

St Johnston's, sir. It's Scottish. We
had to cross it out.

You know, for one glorious moment there,
I thought you were putting all that

effort and enthusiasm into solving the
crime, instead of which you're doing one

of Detective Cunt of Allsop's pathetic
football trivia quizzes.

He's got you on it as well, I think.
Never mind that, Louis.

You disappoint me, you two.

A man is dead.

Sorry, sir. A human life has been...
Now, we have suspects, we have motive.

We have the full panoply of human
emotion spread out before us. And you

trying to remember the 18 last names of
English football teams.

19, sir.

What's that, Lou? There are 19, sir.

19? I thought there were only 18. No,
no, no, there are definitely 19.

Sir? The chief superintendent here.

Sir?

19.

Ninety. So, lads, what have you got?

Well, the motive looks like jealousy,
sir.

Apparently the dead man was a bit of
a... Rover.

Wanderer. Very athletic.

Why Warren the Panther?

Probably needed all the support he could
get.

Like Charlton.

Millwall. Brighton.

Albion! Albion!

Sucker down!

What do you want about it?

He slept with a lot of the other men's
wives, sir. The men in the historical

society.

That was probably one of them who...
Have you three been drinking?

No, sir.

Right.

Well, what's your M .O.? I thought I'd
conduct a few interviews in the incident

room and Briggs and Louis here could do
a bit of digging undercover.

Lift a few kilts.

OK, Frank.

But I want to see results, quickly.

Yes, sir.

It will require your full attention.

Yes, sir.

You've got till Wednesday.

Sheffield Wednesday!

What about if we did it area by area?
Started in the north -east, worked out.

I've tried that.

Oh, dear.

Wickham Wanderer.

Ah, now we've got wondrous. So, what
think ye of the battle on the morrow?

ye that we will triumph over the Saxon
pretender?

If you mean are we going to win, then I
have to say yes, we will.

I've read the tapestry.

You mean it, Sir Knight. It will be one
in the eye for Harold, eh?

Surely you've heard that gag before.

Speaking of jokes...

It is time that I did make merriment to
ease our fears of battle. Sing, dance,

make of myself a vault.

I shall play thee a pretty song to
gladden your heart on this battle

eve. A song first performed a thousand
years ago.

Good. I like Cliff Richard.

As I strolled out this lovely morn With
a

quip and a quack and a fiddle dee dee I
saw a

young maiden under the...

I hate it when people don't join in.

Spritzer for me.

Point of lager and lime.

Spritzer, lager and lime, and some prawn
-flavoured crisps.

One spritzer, one lager and lime.

Not

exactly

junior master chef, is it, Dave?

Thank you.

Ah, cheers.

Oh, I could kill all of them.

How many more?

We need another five.

You see, the thing to do is not to think
about it.

Use like the Buddhist approach.

And they're good at football quizzes,
are they?

The Buddha?

No, what I mean is the more we try, the
worse it is. What we need is something

to take our minds off it.

We could try some work.

Go on, then.

Finish boys.

How's it going, big boy?

I don't think I can stand any more of
this.

Excuse me, I don't suppose you know of a
bloke in here wearing underpants?

Underpants?

Underpants?

What the hell, that's a foolery, isn't
it? We know not of such a garment, nor

never would we confine us grottics with
a devil's hosiery.

from our land in the Orient to the
King's Crystal Palace. And we are now

against the forces of Albion!

One more!

Eighteen. We've got eighteen.

One more to go and we'll have it. Shh!

What's that word?

I went...

Something on the tip of your tongue.

Oh, hang on.

No, no, no, no. There's a word.

What is it? I nearly had it.

Look, Dave, we've got enough on our
plate without worrying about other

You're right.

Look, we're busy. Bog off.

Hello, sir.

Oh, lads.

How's it going?

Oh, you know...

Not as pleasurable and varied as a day
spent looking up middle -aged men's

possibly can be.

And even if we see anything, it'll only
be circumstantial.

Seen a few of them today, sir.

So, we've just got to keep looking.

Plough on.

Minds on our work.

Applying ourselves fully to the task.
Good. Great. Lovely.

Oh, for God's sake, lads, I can't stand
it anymore.

How many have you got now, sir?

Eighteen.

Same as us.

Sir, we'll show you ours if you show us

yours.

We're missing the same one.

Just one more.

Just one.

This is the difficult bit, sir. Oh, for
God's sake, Louis, don't you think I

know that?

Calm down, sir.

Sorry.

How about our killer?

Hmm?

The murderer.

I've decided to continue the search
tomorrow.

During the battle.

Good idea.

And I've requested reinforcements.

It's a perfectly reasonable request. We
could use another man.

Yeah, yeah.

You don't understand.

I've asked them to send me Alsop.

Alsop? Come in here.

I'm his boss.

Why can't I send for him?

And... You will make him tell us, won't
you, sir?

By God, he'll tell us.

Sir, sir, I think this is him now.

I understand you're picking up the bill,
sir.

It's £19 .95.

Keep the change.

Good to see you, Derek.

What's all the fuss about? I was in bed.

we need you all for.

Badly. Oh, yeah.

It's a good one this week, isn't it, eh?

What do you think of the outfit?

Well, it's what you said, isn't it, sir?

Come dressed as a doorman.

Actually, I said come dressed as a
Norman.

But it doesn't matter.

My fault, Derek. Got a bit of a cold.

The man we're after is wearing purple Y
-fronts. Where did this murder happen,

sir? It happened on the north end of the
battlefield.

Oh, you got that one, then.

Hellish! Tell you what.

For God's sake, Alsop, you know what
this is about.

Eighteen. We've got eighteen. One more
and we can have a decent night's sleep.

So come on, what is it?

Oh, you mean the quiz? Yes, the sodding
quiz.

Only a bit of fun.

Fun? You call this fun?

I thought England players ending in O
was bad enough, but this is mental

torture. All right, all right, all
right. Come on, out with it. Well, you

Palace? Yes.

County? Yes.

Town? Yes.

Rovers? Yes.

Albion? Yes. West Brom and Brighton and
Hove?

Argyle! We've got Argyle!

I bet I know the one you haven't got.

Hey, Portsmouth.

Here, look.

We swear to you, sir, we're going to
kill that old chap.

Not just pretend kill him, but really
properly kill him. Now, calm down.

We've got an arrest to make, for God's
sake. You're blowing this thing up out

all proportion.

Anyway, we'll never find out.

All right, then, I'll give you a clue.

Not Premier League.

This is rather jolly. Come on, then.

Off to work.

Hey, Dave!

Dave, come and look at me!

Dave?

Hey!

Oh, no!

Is that a clue?

With Garth and Villa?

And with them.

His pants!

They're not purple.

They're barren blue.

Well, lads, I think I tidied that one up
very nicely for you.

Right. Tell us now.

Hello, Chief Superintendent.

Good work, all of you.

Good colour.

Thank you, sir.

Yes. Good to see you here, Alsop.

Nice of you to let one of the older
officers have a chance at glory, Frank.

Yes, sir.

Yes, Alsop.

You're part of a great team, one of the
gang, a really valuable member of the

crew.