Original subtitles

This is a sacred charge you understand that.

I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't think you were ready more than that

but you were the one creature on this earth to whom I could entrust this.

This message must go to Trotty and to no one else. Is that clear?

Is that clear?

Good boy. Off you go.

- Morning. - Morning.

Doc, stay.

Can I help you?

Oh, yes.

With wallpaper that is it's a little early for that.

- For what? - Never mind.

- I'm looking for a Mrs. Book. - You found her.

- Well, that's a crying shame. - What is?

You're married that is.

- Can I help you? - Yeah, yeah, you're

got message from your husband.

Said you were having problems with your alternator.

- My...? - In the car.

It's what I do see, cars.

I see. I missed a book sent for you, did he?

Yeah, yeah. I mean no idea why he didn't go with someone more local, but...

I'll not say no. I'll go where the work is, right?

Right.

Got a light?

Yeah, yeah.

- Somewhere here... - In one minute.

-

Here we are.

So you are a mechanic mister...

Mickey. Mickey Hall.

And yeah, yeah. I've got a garage, my land.

- All yours? - Why not me and the um

Oh yeah, yeah, all mine.

I see.

If you excuse me a moment.

I need to lay my hands on her. Well find my car.

Right, oh, yeah.

Well, I ain't going anywhere, so...

- The very man. - Oh, good morning Mrs. Book.

Ah, morning Eric.

I wonder if you'd be an absolute darling before me, Eric?

- Anything for a lady. - As I recall

Sheila's a proud owner of a rather splendid daimler.

- Yes, she's got a car. - Yeah, is she in?

Can I just pop in to ask to borrow the car?

No need by that. I'm sure she wouldn't mind.

It's just parked around the back. I'll get the keys for you.

Thank you.

- Hello. Hello. - What's up?

Puncture I think, as bald as daddy.

I told him these wheels won't get me to Cambridge.

- I don't suppose you could help me out

It's not really my department. I'm just looking after the place.

I'd be most awfully grateful

Oh yeah, all right. I'll see what Mickey's got.

Thanks ever so.

There must be a repair kit back here somewhere.

I really appreciate this.

Like he puts things in those random places.

Sync and corrections: minouhse www.addic7ed.com

Slow down.

There is nothing wrong with that.

The alternator, I mean you have enough trouble starting it.

He didn't mention it.

- Maybe I should put me specs on. - Maybe.

Well, thank you very much, Mr. Hall.

That was uh that was... was quite a ride.

Yeah, not at all, love.

And uh... anytime you

want to go a bit further...

Sunday maybe?

Hmm, desperately tempting though

that is I find I'm washing my hair that evening.

- Besides... - Besides?

I think perhaps your dance card may soon be a little full.

Quick word Mr. Hall

Well, isn't this nice?

Who are you?

We thought Mr. Hall that it was high time we had a little chat.

Listen, I know my rights.

Straight out of the blocks. Disappointing.

Dear me, Mr. Hall. One point deducted already.

Point? What are you talking about?

- Listen, you can't stick anything on me. - There you go again.

- Ai? - Textbook quotidian.

- Banal. - What?

You see the inspector and I have been through this routine a hundred times.

Thousand.

You have no idea how tedious it is having to listen to the same old stock

responses from gnarly old lags like something from the musical.

Hold your hand out you naughty boy.

Oh, that's probably enough of that.

So here's the question that you would ask were it not for your fear of me,

dinging you why would I want to kill poor Mr. Harkup.

Oh, why would I? I wouldn't hurt a fly.

- I never did it. - But you admit to going to the shop.

Yeah. Yes. All right. I... I went there to talk things through, to reason with him.

Now me and Marula got a little one on the way.

Oh, did you go with the express intention of filching the jade elephant

- and replacing it? - That's a dirty lie.

Oh, bravo. Haven't heard that one in a while.

- Should put copper at the end, though. - What?

That's a dirty lie. Copper is much more effective.

But you ain't a copper, is you?

No. Fair point. No, I ain't,

isn't, aren’t.

But I do have a special letter from Churchill.

So? Anyway, you can't prove that I did that.

No, but it's very probable you'll admit what happened then.

I waited outside the shop.

I knew he'd be in he never goes anywhere except Mondays and Thursdays.

Played dominoes down the ball.

I waited too well after seven but there was no sign of him.

- So he went into the flat. - No sign of him.

- But first she come out. - Who?

The char. Mrs. Dredge.

Coming out of chemist acting all...

- shifty. - Yeah, well, you know all about that.

Yeah, she had something in her coat

trying her best to keep it hidden.

Didn't let her see me, obviously.

When was this?

About six.

Now go on.

Then someone else come.

It's like Piccadilly Circus on your lane, Book.

Couldn't see him properly, what are my eyes and that?

- Oh yes, we've heard all about it. - But it was a him.

I do know the difference, mister.

Your reputation precedes you.

It was all bundled up.

Scarf, overcoat.

After he left,

I went to the flat.

The door was shut, but I know my way around a lock, so...

In I went, and...

that's when I found him.

Marulu's dad, that is. Stone dead.

So naturally you thought you should call the police?

Well, that wouldn't have been a very wise thing to do, would it?

I almost just licked it.

And then I remembered about the ornaments.

The jade figures.

Months ago he told me about how precious they was.

I thought no one was going to miss one of them, aren't they?

Alas for you, that wasn't quite the case.

I had my little chess set with me.

So I swapped one.

Then I took off straight home, I swear.

I never killed Harker, but I never even touched him. He was dead when I got there.

Alright son, maybe you're telling the truth, maybe you're not.

But let me assure you, if you are lying,

if you think you can take Scotland Yard for a ride,

I'll come down on you so hard, you won't be able to see straight till Christmas.

I'll throw the bloody bock at you.

Inspector.

Do we believe him?

Bent as dog's hind leg.

Yeah, but is he a murderer though?

I need to think.

Do you have time to queue?

I'm planning a casserole.

Vicious stopping moaning, love?

Chance would be a fine thing.

Come on Enid, it's sharp now, it's not going to wrap itself.

Here we are.

She's new.

Out away you, we're beer all bleeding day.

Right. You're watching.

Over, over, under, under.

- Here we go lovely. - Thank you.

Bye.

Oi, come in, let's be having ya.

Don't have to turn you vegetarian.

Our cat brought home a pigeon the other night.

And?

Well, Mrs Bliss was sorely tempted.

We had plenty of pigeons in the war.

- Nothing wrong with your bit of pigeon. - Yeah.

Yeah, I know, but now it's all over.

We want to weigh him a bit higher, don't we?

We are all of us in the gutter,

but some of us are looking at the Starlings.

Right, bugger this. All right.

Excuse me. Police business, coming through, coming through.

Police business. Police business, thank you.

Thank you. Sorry, sorry, madam.

- Police business, thank you very much. - Oi.

But you'll bloody turn like the rest of us.

Oh, I'm so sorry, madam. It's an urgent police business.

- One minute. - Oh, madam.

Sorry, I just ask you to take a few steps outside.

Urgent police business.

- Afternoon, Alex. - Afternoon, sir.

- Now, stewing steak. - I've kept it aside, sir.

You are a prince amongst men.

You've got something just there, eh?

Oh, excuse me.

Powdered egg. Bit of a rush breakfast.

- How's Sheila? - Well, sir. Well.

- She's driven up to Sheffield. - A nice family.

Yes.

Terrible about George, Arkup.

- He certainly is. - Mind you, I...

I wager old Basart won't shed any tears.

I never got on.

Many are running during the Blitz.

Arkup was a stickler for the rules.

Always on at Mr. Basart for being too slack.

Blackout curtain, showing light, that sort of thing.

Rub your tick.

Right then. Where are we up to with the murders?

Murders? There's only one, as far as I know.

Oh, yes.

Well, Mrs. Dredge says she saw the chemist at approximately 6pm.

- We have only her word for that. - Yes.

But Mickey Hall did say he saw her leaving the shop around that time

with something in her coat she wanted to keep hidden.

And she has a strong motive now we know she inherits the heart.

So, Arkup appears to have died somewhere between 6 and 10.

According to Dr. Calder.

An awful lot could have happened in those four hours.

Indeed.

Now, we're presuming the killer called around.

No sign of forced entry.

- So, Arkup knew them? - Probably.

I've told you this before.

Hear me out, Mr. Arkup, please.

It's about Marona.

I suppose you'd better come through.

So, he let them in.

There was some sort of chat.

The killer proceeds to pour prussic acid down his throat.

Arkup croaks.

Literally, I should imagine.

But why did he take just the one piece? Why would I grab the lot?

Then it would look like burglary.

Whereas he wanted to make it look like suicide.

There we are, sir.

Oh, bless you, Eric. Oh, anything for dogs?

- I'll spoil you. - You do.

- Would you like it, rats? - No, no, no. He won't mind.

Thank you. Toodle-pip.

- Enjoy your day, gentlemen. - Cheerio.

- Ho-ho, Beryl. - Hello.

Mrs. Dredge has motive and opportunity.

Mickey Hall, motive and opportunity.

What about Marula?

Mickey says the bundled-up stranger is a man.

- Yeah, then he would. - If they were in it together.

Did they know that Arkup was going to disinherit them?

Hello, Jack.

Sir?

Not for you.

What have you done?

Oh, tidied up.

Tidied up?

Oh, dear.

Well, you said you wanted things cataloging.

So, I need to put it in a proper order.

You've only done these shelves so far.

Yeah. Sorry. Takes time, you know.

Thank God. Put it all back.

Put it all back just as it was.

Because I told you I have a system.

- But you said that... - Catalog it, I said.

Not desecrate it.

Christ.

Book.

I'm sorry.

We said soon as men did it, eh?

Well, I think I might have done something right.

- You found something? - Yeah. I have.

It's been cleaned recently.

The residue you can see.

- This remains a silver polish. - Meaning?

Meaning that it got into the ground recently.

Probably dropped.

Or... Something far more sinister.

What are you getting at?

- 1665. Year of the plague. - Yeah.

Very specifically, the year of the plague.

Not a year or two before.

Capital.

Too convenient.

Horribly.

Where better to hide a tree than in a forest.

Eleven skeletons in the plague pit from the 17th century.

And the 12th from 1946.

Oh, bloody hell.

You said earlier. Murders. Plural.

Yes.

Linked?

Oh, I should think so. Top of the class, Jack.

Really, I should give you the afternoon off to go to the pub.

So I will. More specifically, The Bull.

Where the late Mr. Harcup used to play dominos.

- Take Nora. - Nora?

I believe you've met. She's good at this sort of thing.

You could learn a lot.

Something.

Very much something.

What's this?

A list of addresses and a very particular question.

I'd be ever so grateful if you'd go on a little field trip for me.

All right. If you cook tonight.

- I am. Casserole. - Oh, casserole.

Very irregular, this.

Kiddies on the premises.

- I'm not a kid. - You look like one.

Appearances can be very deceptive.

I'll have a drink if that's what you're worried about.

- That would make it worse. - She'll have a lemonade.

Oh, what? And...

- I'll have a bottle of mild, please. - All right?

Thanks.

- You'll have to get these. - What?

I haven't got any money. No.

Ask Mr. Book will advance you with your wages.

- There you are. - Thanks. Take the change.

You were saying, Mr Harkup.

That's right, son. Every Monday and Thursday. Sit just over there.

Mr. Well-beloved, the butcher. Mr. Base Hart, the RP warden.

Mrs. Akers from the junk shop. Mr. Quillen, the tailor.

Just like happy family's.

- Mr. Toovey from the cobblers. - Mr. Harcup.

Oh, God rest his soul.

Yeah.

Are you with the coppers then?

In a manner of speaking.

I mean, I don't mind. I was in the force myself back in the day.

Ah, poor old Harcup.

Didn't seem the type.

You know, to do himself in.

- But then, do they ever. - I know.

We had a teacher. Life and soul.

- Drowned herself in a weary of a man. - How was he? When you last saw him?

Well, that's the thing you see.

I saw Mr. Harcup just the day before.

Very out of character it was.

Yeah, he marched in here in the middle of the day.

He was a man of very regular habits.

So, it did seem a bit queer.

Yeah, seemed like he had a lot on his mind.

Said he was sitting on a secret.

Obviously eating him up a bit.

Did you get it out of him? The secret?

Ah, not at first. No. More than my life's worth, he said.

- He said that? - His very words, son.

And the next day...

Dead.

Did he, erm...

- Elaborate? - Yes, son.

Eventually, he did.

Now, Mr. Harcup was a very upright citizen.

You see, he suspected one of his pals...

was cheating at Spotties.

Spotties?

Spotties.

Domino's.

That was smashing.

Well, Kez's uses.

Better than what you're used to.

Oh, yeah.

So, er, you were saying...

Scarlet Fever?

Well, that's what brought us together. Yes.

We met on the Scarlet Fever Ward when we were, what, both... 12?

And so, what?

You fell for each other right from the off?

Er, it wasn't quite like that, no.

Profitable day?

I'm not sure.

I put my foot right in it.

I tried to tidy Mr. Book's bookshelves.

I mean, I don't think I did too much damage, but...

And then I was out and about with Nora...

detecting.

Well, it certainly put some colour in your cheeks.

So, go on then.

Well, if you didn't fall for each other straight away...

when did you know?

You'll forgive me, my dear, but we'll have to know each other rather better before...

such confidences are exchanged.

Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

- I didn't mean to overstep, but... - No, not...

Not at all. You haven't.

I do hope we'll become fast friends, Jack.

It's complicated.

That's all.

Book and I weren't separable for years.

And then...

Life got in the way.

Love is where it falls, isn't that what they say?

Couldn't trouble you for a lite, could I?

Sorry, I...

I don't smoke.

Sure?

And were things more than formal between you and your employer?

I resent that question, Inspector.

- Nevertheless. - Well, I...

I won't deny there was a degree of...

affection between George...

between Mr Harcup and myself.

If you've been doing for someone all those years...

Well, that's my point, Mrs Trench. Is that all you were doing?

What my friend is trying to suggest, dearly...

I know full well what he's trying to suggest.

What he's trying to elucidate, then,

is whether this affection took any more tangible form.

Well, what's it got to do with you?

Well, the fact is, Mrs Trench, certain new facts have come to light.

Mr Harcup gave the lot to you, love.

Mr Harcup and Goodwill's whole estate. It's all yours.

Never.

I didn't see that coming. Everything?

Everything.

Is your son at home, Mrs Trench?

Oh, he's upstairs, in bed.

- A late riser? - A war hero.

His Wellington came down over Holland, 44.

Oh, I know. I'm sorry.

Nothing to be sorry for. He survived, didn't he?

Given that we don't believe Mr Harcup took his own life,

you can see why that leaves you in a rather difficult position.

Do you never think I topped him?

The fact remains, you're in a rather sticky position, Mrs Dredge.

The new will was properly signed and witnessed.

- Well, I don't know anything about that. - But you could have done.

You could have found a draft when you were cleaning

and decided to, you know, speed things up a bit.

- What, by knocking off Mr H? - Yes.

Balmy. No, it's her you should be talking to.

Marula. And him. Mickey Hall. Have you now, Tim?

He is assisting us with our enquiries.

Oh, well, good. That's something then.

In fact, Mr Hall's been most helpful.

- He has? - Yes.

Yeah, most helpful. In fact, he told us

that he saw you leaving the chemist shop the night of the murder.

There's no mystery there. I told you, I saw him.

Leaving and trying your very best to conceal something.

Bandages. I told you, for elf. I wasn't trying to hide.

He lost a leg, didn't he, your son?

H... H... How...

One of them worn and creased. The other almost completely smooth.

His prosthesis must need constant attention.

And painful, I should imagine. Very, very painful.

- Of course. - Painful enough for morphine.

Why didn't you just ask Mr Harkup to help?

I couldn't.

Alf needs more than he's ever given by the doctor.

So I need some extra.

I didn't think Mr Harkup would notice, but he did.

And he assumed Mickey Hall must have done it.

I couldn't tell him it was me.

He was such a stickler, you see, for the rules.

Well, how could I tell him I'd had away

with drugs from his own shop?

You've no idea what it's like, the pain.

My poor Elf.

So you dropped in on the pretext of getting bandages and instead stole more morphine?

And Mr Harkup was alive when you left him?

I swear on my son's life.

If you'll excuse me.

Yes, of course.

Oh, and, er...

When do I get it then?

Beg pardon?

The money.

Not her then.

No, life has hardened Mrs Dredge, but not to a killer.

- No. - Then who did it?

- Them. Two murders, remember? - Them then.

Oh, look, I suppose it'd be too straightforward for you to just, you know, just tell me.

It would be my... Well, no.

Not my pleasure.

You're going to need backup, Inspector.

What, what, I...

Oh, no, no, sorry, er, we're just...

- Good evening, sir. - Eric.

- Oh, we're just closing, I'm afraid. - That's all right.

How's Sheila?

- Well, you asked me that, Mr Book. - Oh, yes.

She's in Sheffield.

What day did she drive up there?

Oh, it was, um... Thursday. Yes, Thursday.

I see.

Well, if there's anything special I can help you with, sir, you know,

- I've got a lot on and... - But she...

Couldn't have done that. Could she, Eric?

When Trotty borrowed her car...

On Friday.

Come on.

No, then, Mr. Well-Beloved. I didn't mean to do her in.

- Go on. - Things hadn't been right for some time.

Always rowing we were. And then...

I met her.

He...

Ah, an old fool and a old beauty. It's a very old tale.

When did you know, Mr. Book, if you don't mind me asking?

I suspected right away that something was off.

And that was confirmed when I discovered

that some of the bones in the plague pit were newer,

though you'd made an effort to age them.

Gravy browning.

Sheila uses it on her legs.

Couldn't afford to get annoying, aren't you?

Plus, the knife marks on them are very distinctive.

I checked your handiwork.

That bone you gave me for dog.

So, for the sake of a future with Miss Enid Clegg,

you sent your wife to meet her later.

Then found yourself confronting the murderer's oldest dilemma.

Getting rid of the corpse.

Should have been simple for you, not being a stranger

to the notion of chopping things up.

Unfortunately, Inspector, people can tell the difference

between the bones of hogs and homo sapiens.

So, I think that after removing the flesh from your unfortunate wife,

flensing her, you still needed to dispose of her skeleton.

Which is where the caustic soda comes in.

Precisely. Freely available to any chemist.

Getting rid of her body, are you?

Oh, yeah. Yeah. Drains.

It's for the drains, George.

Terrible pulp.

Alkaline hydrolysis.

Was that what you were going for?

I'd read about it, see.

For any of the things you pick up in this trade.

Caustic soda.

Dissolves flesh.

I'd used it before to get rid of carcasses, you know.

It didn't work properly. You know, lots of...

Lots of bones left.

I didn't know what to do. And then...

And then...

Baseheart mentioned the skeletons that he'd found.

Strange to think that if it wasn't for the Luftwaffe,

we'd never have known those poor devils were under our feet all these years.

You told the coppers?

Not just yet.

Well, no rush, I suppose, after 300 years.

I've put a tarp over the crater.

- Yes? - Well, you know what kids are like.

They probably run off with the bones and give them to a dog.

- Anyway, cheerio. - Oh, no.

As I said, where better to hide a tree than in a forest?

Who would notice?

Oh, you.

Then there was this, of course.

Eric here, though exhibiting a lively skill at improvisation,

is not an imaginative man. No offence.

I call for it. My game.

Mate is mate.

You rather overdid it by planting the coin in the plague pit.

That rang an alarm bell straight away.

And so armed with a description of our suspect,

my wife made a short but instructive tour of the local curio shops.

Oh, how do you know he hadn't gone further afield to get the coin?

Unimaginative, remember?

Anyone conceiving so clumsy a clue

would never stray far from their own neighbourhood.

Eric was very much in the frame when I noticed the clincher.

In the queue.

At the butcher's.

Notice what?

Powdered egg.

Oh, you've got something. Just there.

Excuse me. Powdered egg. Bit of a rushed breakfast.

Such an intimate thing to do.

With absolutely no acknowledgement from Mr. Well-beloved.

I thought.

How's Sheila?

Well, sir. Well.

- She's driven up the Sheffield. - A nice family.

I inquired with Sheila's family in Yorkshire.

I know they've seen neither hide nor hair of her, of course.

So, it all looked rosy.

And then?

I've got the note.

I suspected something of a kind.

Some sort of vague threat.

Urgent that we talk.

I don't want to have to take this to the authorities.

I hope we can sort this matter between ourselves.

And you assumed it was about the murder.

Of course.

- What? And it wasn't? - No.

What? Then what was it about?

Domino's.

What?

Mr. Harcup was a stickler for the rules, as we know.

He suspected you of cheating at his favourite pastime.

- That's all it was. - No, no, no, no, no.

No, it had to be a threat.

About Sheila.

What else could it be?

So?

What happened next?

I had no idea I could buy him off.

- With cash? - With beef?

So you went round?

I was scared.

You know, scared of what he might say.

What if he wouldn't listen to reason?

You know, there was poison everywhere, all round.

And... So I kept him talking.

I just need you to tell the truth.

- George, just tell... - Tell the truth, Eric.

And then I took my chance.

I got hold of him.

And then I poured the poison down his throat.

Right.

- You poisoned him, did you? - Oh, yes. Oh, it's horrible.

Nothing else?

Aye?

You see, that's very interesting, Eric.

Because before he was poisoned, George Harcup was struck over the head.

And the weapon left a bloody residue in his hair.

You remember there was blood, but no wound, Inspector?

- Yes. - Dr. Calder analysed it for me.

Cow's blood.

And you would have known that, Eric.

If you'd been the one who'd hit himwith a joint of beef.

No. Yes.

No, no, no, no. I remember now.

- I did hit him. - I don't think so.

So who did?

Enid.

Obviously neglected to mention the part where she clobbered Mr. Harcup.

Was it her idea?

- From the start? - No.

She was...

Enid found me.

After I'd strangled.

After Sheila died,

she just took charge.

Didn't know what to do.

Enid was so...

calm.

Methodical.

And...

We... We reckoned we was gonna be okay until...

What the hell can we do now?

Leave this to me.

Plan to finish the job.

Make it look like suicide.

She poured plastic acid down poor Mr. Harcup's gallant.

Can't we just say that I did it?

Please.

I mean I'll swing, won't I? But Enid?

The law must take its course.

I'm sorry Eric, I truly am.

But I'm even more sorry for George Harcup.

And poor Sheila.

Right, formal charge done. Sign out.

Have you taken to a home of yourself?

Very good of you.

Thank Mrs. Bug.

She said you might be a while.

Quite a tale. Wish I could have sat in on it.

I'm pushing my luck as it is.

What exactly did you do in the war?

It must have been pretty big for you to get that letter from Churchill.

With the inspector to let you have run of the shop like this.

Now, now, Jack, don't be nosy.

Where would the fun be if everyone knew everything, eh?

Besides, I hardly had the run of the place

not with laughing boy there hovering the whole time.

He was just waiting for his chance to collar me.

Slightest malfeasance.

Surely you're a model of respectability, Mr. Book.

You'd be surprised.

They got Ivan a velo for his petrol coupons.

All right, we're out.

All right, you go.

Eric?

Eric.

- Hey. - Hi. No, no, no contact.

Enough of that.

- That's enough, Eric. - Run for Eric.

- I love you. - Run.

- Eric, give me a fool, man. - After him.

Oh, hell's bells.

Eric.

Eric.

Come out, man.

Don't be a fool.

- I think I see him. - Eric.

You two. That way.

- Come on. - Come on.

Where did he go?

There.

The crater.

- This is... - Was Inkerman Street.

Which means...

Mr. Baseheart's fastidiousness has come good at last.

If the ruddy thing's still working.

All right, well beloved.

Come quietly.

See him?

There.

- Eric, stop. - Don't lose him.

I'm trying.

I'm going in.

Let me talk to him.

Where are you going to run to, Eric?

There's nothing to be done.

Where will you go?

Eric.

You can give up today or tomorrow, Eric.

It's inevitable.

The law must take its course.

That's what you said.

You're not stringing me up.

Eric, no.

No.

You shall do that to me.

I've seen beasts go.

It's not always... kind.

Eric, stop.

What about Enid, hmm?

You gotta leave her to face the rope alone.

You're right.

- She did all this for me. - Yes.

All for me.

I can't leave her to face the music, can I?

If we're gonna go...

We go together.

No. No.

For him the hemlock shall distill.

For him the axe be bared.

For him the gibbet shall be built.

For him the stake prepared.

I see him up there with Mr. Book.

And then...

Wallop. He just fell.

Dropped like stone. I mean, he must have broke his neck.

What's that business?

Very sad.

Well, this is a treat. Pineapple chunks.

Haven't had these since before the war.

- So what now? - What do you mean?

We just go back to selling books.

Well, that's the job, Jack. Just Jack.

- Yeah, but that was... - Yeah.

But it was so bloody exciting.

Can't be like this all the time, young man.

And anyway...

Who are you? You haven't really said.

Jack Blunt.

I was brought up in an orphanage. Like I told you.

Made acquaintances with the wrong sort.

- I did time for it. - Oh.

Yeah. Oh.

I was the driver for a smash and grab up Mayfair Way.

They got away with a load of mint coats.

I got away with two years.

I missed the war.

Some of it, anyway.

And then...

I'll get a letter.

From the Prison Reform Society.

An address. For a job.

- This address. - Well, there we are then.

- No need to mention it again. - Yeah, but why me?

Why'd you pick me?

Altruism.

What?

Giving a second chance to someone felt like the right thing to do.

- Yeah, but you don't know me from Adam. - Oh, he was hopeless, wasn't he, Trotty?

Always wandering around the shop in the altogether.

Getting his fig leaf trapped in the till.

I'm serious.

I mean, bloody hell, I am grateful and all that, but...

It's nice here.

It's really nice, but...

Books is a raft on the great turbulent sea of life.

And you mean books are a raft?

No, no. Books. This place. My shop.

Don't dwell on it, Jack. Just accept it. It's a second chance.

But why me?

Why not?

You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.

Shakespeare.

Mae West.

Sync and corrections: minouhse www.addic7ed.com