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Sloppy.

Poor bastard was nearly half a mile away,

on a different course.

It's a mistake assuming the only enemy is the one you can see.

Laserlock sight. Try it.

Sir.

- Ah, very impressive. - Couldn't miss.

- Nobody could. - Thanks...

- Well, not with a thing like that. - ...friend.

Well, don't I get a go?

It's not a toy, Bodie.

No, sir.

Seems to have been raining.

Yes, sir.

So, the 180 automatic rifle. You like it?

- Like? - It's lethal.

Guns are.

The very latest thing in American weaponry, a laserlock sight.

Range?

Effective up to a thousand yards, at least.

- The red dot's from the laser. - Thank you, Bodie.

Where the red dot is, the bullets strike.

- Without fail? - So they claim.

Ammunition 0.22 calibre, automatic repeating or single shot.

Rate of fire?

An automatic 900 rounds per minute.

- Fast enough. - Fifteen rounds a second.

They claim it can cut down telegraph poles.

- Nice. - Nasty.

The laser sight could give your position away.

It might, but it can also dazzle and so temporarily blind an enemy.

Yeah, temporarily.

- Nice. - Right, not your type at all.

Doyle? Bodie?

If you've quite finished.

Just a healthy interest, sir.

A natural obsession, that's all.

In that case, you wouldn't want me to keep the young lady waiting.

First interview, sir?

And what's that to you, Doyle?

Me, sir? Nothing, sir.

Are we buying this gun, sir?

Now that's up to you two.

Us, sir?

As of now, you're both suspended from other duties.

Take this gun and test it.

I want to know every advantage and every weakness.

I want to know exactly how useful it could be to us,

and exactly how dangerous it could be if used against us.

That, I wouldn't fancy.

In that case, you'll look after it, won't you, Doyle?

- Careful, sir. - You did put the safety catch on?

Then there's no need to worry.

Guard it, Doyle. Guard it with your life.

- Right. - In the wrong hands,

that gun could create an instant disaster area anywhere.

Oh, thank you, sir.

Well?

Ammunition, sir.

Ammunition. More if you want it.

"Guard it, Doyle. Guard it with your life.

In the wrong hands, this could create an instant disaster area."

Hadn't you boys better go

and do whatever it is you're supposed to be doing?

Oh, dear.

I thought you were getting rid of that geriatric,

putting it out to grass.

Are you talking about my car?

Yeah, well, I think that's what it is, yeah.

That's a classic, that is.

I know. Classics are old.

Well, you'd better get in the back then, hadn't you.

What do I want to get in the back for?

Look after the gun and leave room for Miss Mason in the front.

How do you know she wants to get in?

Look: Cowley's car, my car,

no car for Miss Mason. Ergo...

Ergo what?

Train service round here's horrible.

Thank you, Miss Mason.

We'll be in touch in a few days. Good bye.

Thank you. Good bye, sir.

- Well? - Reaction good.

Organise a full screening on our Miss Mason. Blue list.

Yes, sir.

That's Bodie. We're giving him a lift.

Oh, only if you're going my way, you know.

Hallo, Bodie.

Miss Mason.

- Tea? - Fine by me.

How about you?

What's that for?

He's taking it home. He needs some extra coaching.

Have you two met before by any chance, or am I being obvious?

Not for a couple of years.

At the Yard. Kathie's in C11, Intelligence.

Yeah? Why do you want to transfer then?

To be near me.

Partly. I thought it might be a good way to work off my paranoia.

Oh, yes. What's that?

An expensive way of hating somebody.

Yeah, I know a few cheap ways.

We got a problem?

I don't know. We could have.

Think we might have a tail.

What did you do at the Yard?

Sit behind a desk for five years.

Oh, yeah?

They say it's a great way of broadening your, uh, outlook.

- It's a Porsche. - Yeah.

Shall we give him a quick blast, eh?

Yeah, slice him in two. That'd give him a surprise.

Yeah, go on. Try him out.

All right. Hold tight.

He's sticking.

Yay! Always wanted to be a racing driver!

Shame to spoil his fun.

- Are you two always like this? - Yes.

Certainly not.

We sometimes imagine people are following us, don't we? Tea?

Your place or mine?

Yours.

Shut up, Bodie!

"Shut up, Bodie." Oh come on, where we going?

- His place. - My place.

Woowoo!

Nice day's shooting. Pity it's not the grouse season.

What, with this?

All you'd be left with is a handful of feathers.

Help yourself.

So kind.

- Check. - Check.

Oh, I could do with a shower.

Try walking downwind.

I'll, uh, send someone round to scrub your back.

Me mother caught me out one evening up the West End on a spree.

She said, 'Ere, where you going? But I answered, Don't ask me.

I'm following in Father's footsteps. I'm following the dear old dad.

'E's just up there with a fine big gal,

so I thought I'd have one as well.

I dunno where 'e's going, but when 'e gets there I'll be glad.

I'm following in Father's footsteps, yes!

I'm following the dear old dad.

To dinner up in town last night I went, and Pa went there as well.

'Ow many lemonades we 'ad, ooh my word, I really couldn't tell!

I'm following in Father's footsteps,

I'm following the dear old dad.

'E's staggering on in the front, you see,

and 'pon my word, 'e's worse than me.

She's good, isn't she?

Good. The singer.

Here, have some more wine.

I adore wine.

Must be the wrong year.

Her or the wine?

...following in Father's footsteps. I'm following the dear old dad.

'E's just up there with a fine big gal,

so I thought I'd have one as well.

I dunno where 'e's going, but when 'e gets there I'll be glad.

I'm following in Father's footsteps, yes!

I'm following the dear old dad!

Yes, well, uh, I think I'll leave you two to share your memories.

Yeah, bring her back some cold water.

I think I'll dunk her head in it.

Here's to your second interview.

If I get one.

I'll put in a word for you. No, maybe I won't.

Cowley doesn't like his people getting too involved.

We never were.

We could have been.

I was otherwise engaged.

And now?

Unexpectedly available for weddings and mitzvahs.

'Scuse me.

Let me get you one.

I thought Cowley didn't like his operatives getting too close.

You're not on the squad yet.

No.

Leaves us a few days.

Yes.

It's just that, uh, we haven't got much time.

No.

Shall we?

Have you got to do another number?

I've got to go and change.

Eh? No, don't go yet. Don't run off.

Oh, hallo. You're leaving me, are you?

Yeah. Uh, I think she wants to go home to bed.

I should be so lucky.

Listen, that's his sister back there.

Don't let him tell you otherwise, all right?

- Friend. - Coward. See you.

Goodnight.

I enjoyed that.

Yeah, it was fun.

Policemen used to walk round here in pairs, you know.

Afraid they'd get done up otherwise.

Used to be my patch.

I know. Maurice Richards used to be your DS.

Maurice keeps a pub down here.

I know. He left the Force.

You know a lot.

Wouldn't you, if you wanted to get into the CI5?

Yeah. Yeah, I would.

- Goodnight. - Cheers.

- Same again, all round. - Yeah, yeah, I'll be right with you.

- Not you again. - Hallo.

- A right coppers' place. - Um, I'll be right with you.

What do you want?

- Gin and tonic. - All right.

- Hallo, Ray. - Maurice, how are you doing?

Good to see you. How are you keeping?

Very well. How are you?

- Oh, I'm fine, fine. - You remember Kathie Mason, C11?

Of course I do. Kathie. How are you?

Fine.

Are you still at the Yard?

Afraid so.

What are you now? Inspector?

Sergeant.

Well, keep plugging away. Keeps you young and healthy.

Good to see you, mate! What are you gonna have?

Goodnight, Maurice.

Goodnight, Maurice.

Goodnight.

We can use the lift.

It's all a bit posh, isn't it? How come, rich daddy?

Rich boyfriend.

Ex?

You know, Cowley's going to put a stop to all this.

When are you seeing him again?

Tomorrow.

Got till then. Haven't we?

Can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?

Someone just tried to kill me!

Yeah!

- I thought they hated the car. - Who?

- Well, don't you know? - How should I know?

Tut, tut. You got that many enemies, have you?

I mean, if we were on a case--

Which we're not.

Then why?

Jealous lover, husband?

Oh, no, no, no, no. Married birds, not my scene.

I see. How'd you get on last night?

Well, don't ask me, will you?

Eh? How I got on last night?

How did you get on last night?

Don't ask.

Ah-ah-ah. Watch it, my son.

Oh my God.

Give us the keys. Give.

Thank you.

Well done.

Yes.

Ray?

Cowley's gonna love this.

You're in trouble, mate. Big trouble.

That gun was in your care, Doyle.

- Yes, sir. - So where is it?

- I don't know. - No? Somebody does.

- Who? - Find out, Doyle. Find out fast.

Suppliers knew.

They didn't know you two were testing it, looking after it.

No, sir.

Well, somebody did, and somebody knew where to find your car last night.

The two things aren't necessarily connected.

- Must be. - Well, get out and connect them!

Before I get the pair of you drummed out of CI5 for incompetence.

Can you think of any good reason why I shouldn't?

Yeah. You want us to get that gun back.

Right. I want that gun back.

I don't care what you have to do to get it.

And if you could avoid getting yourselves killed, I'd be grateful.

So would we.

Replacements can be very expensive!

Good bye.

Keep out of my light and don't breathe on a thing.

Oh, sorry. How's it going?

Any ideas?

Ideas? I'm just a scientist. I leave ideas to geniuses like you two.

Thanks.

Besides, you were there. I wasn't.

Funny business, though.

Yes, hilarious.

- A good job, very professional. - So?

So why did he go to all this trouble?

How much trouble, Jack?

Well, he did it in four separate operations.

Four?

One, he loosened the wheel nuts.

Two, he fixed the brakes very carefully

so that they'd fail after they'd been applied

once or twice and not before.

Three, steering.

Loosened the nuts again.

Four?

Four, he used an explosive device under the engine,

and that's what makes it really funny.

Why didn't it go off until after the crash?

That's it. If you wanted to kill somebody with a car bomb,

- what would you do? - Wire it to the ignition.

Exactly. Simple, isn't it?

So why all this monkey business with brakes and steering?

And why a device with an impact fuse?

Designed to go off after the crash.

More than that. Designed to go about thirty seconds after the crash.

Long enough for me to get clear.

Right. Well, I'll let you know if I find anything else.

Maybe he didn't want to kill you. Some kind of joker.

Yeah, great joke. Thanks, Jack; see you.

Anything?

Not so much as a shred of dandruff.

Whoever did this was a real expert.

- Any ideas? - Nothing to go by.

If you'd lifted it yourself, there'd have been more.

Sorry. Take care.

Yeah. Thanks, Malcolm.

Let's have a cup of coffee, eh?

Doesn't make any sense, does it?

No. How did they know it was here?

Somebody told them.

Well, who knew?

You. Me. Cowley. Ruth.

Kathie?

Nah. For all she knew, I could have taken it back to the armoury.

I wish you had.

You remember that car, that Porsche?

Yeah. What, do you reckon, uh...?

I don't know.

Look, let's start at the beginning, all right?

Now, who'd want a gun like that, and why?

Gangs.

No, not unless they had an execution.

And then they're better off with shotguns. Terrorists?

Well, they do well enough with ordinary weapons, don't they?

Yeah. What about a long-distance hit? Assassination from a mile away?

They're more interested in targets than weapons.

Oh, I don't know. Pay-up-or-else kind of job.

The red dot's enough for that kind of message.

You mean it could have been nicked for money?

Yeah.

Yeah, I suppose so. Anybody would pay big money for a gun like that.

Yeah, they'd have to sell it, wouldn't they?

Right.

Where we going?

Where we going?!

Marty.

Bodie, dear chap. Good to see you again.

I like your new offices.

Oh, well. You know me, Bodie:

always feel restricted in four walls. Walls have ears.

And they'd need to be big ears.

Right.

Ray Doyle, my partner. Marty Martell.

Beautiful, isn't it? Amazing to think the Vikings

used to sail up here a few hundred years ago.

- Raid our cities-- - Rob all the women;

rape all the men.

If you like that sort of thing.

Martell's one of the world's leading experts, Ray.

On what?

I specialise in handguns and rifles.

What, sporting?

Depends on what you mean by "sport".

Well, hunting rifles?

If that's what you want, yes.

And if I want something else?

I think we'd better go into my other office.

Remember that consignment of Uzis you wanted

for the Gulf that time, Bodie?

Remember the job we had getting them out there--

and getting the money out of the ruler?

I hope this isn't that sort of deal, Bodie.

Nope, no deal, not this time. I want your help, Marty.

For free, of course.

Naturally. Think of it as good will.

Oh, I will, I will. Well, what do you want?

What do you know about the American 180?

It's a real meanie; you know that.

We know. We've tried it.

You have?

There's one loose in London. Right now.

- No. - Yes.

That's bad; that's very bad.

Heard anything?

Not a whisper. I don't think it can be on the market.

Well, somebody's got it.

Where did it come from?

Us.

I don't believe it.

You better believe it.

The point is, Marty, we'd like it back.

I bet you would. A 180 loose in London is bad news.

Right.

Bad for the business. Not good for our reputation.

Doesn't do ours much good either.

All right. Leave it with me. I'll ask around.

Thank you.

Doyle.

Now what?

Start at the other end, I suppose.

Any end in particular?

Look up a few old friends.

Prefer to wait and see.

Ah, he's a good guy, Martell.

Backfire?

Not on your life.

Your life or mine?

Mine, I think.

He's playing with us. Cat and mouse.

Stringing us along. He knows all the moves.

Well, most of them, anyway.

Let's get out of here. I feel a little bit exposed.

Oh, hallo, uh, Scotland Yard?

Um, I want to contact someone in, uh, CI5.

Yeah, CI5. Yeah, all right, I'll hold.

Oh, hallo? My name is Richards, Maurice Richards.

I'm a former Detective Sergeant.

Look, I want to get a message through to Ray Doyle.

Yeah, I've got some information for him.

Brownie.

Permission to come aboard?

Why not? I thought you packed it all in.

Not quite.

No, but you're not one of the good guys any more--

or, or are you?

Not quite.

What about Happy Joe there? I suppose he's not quite, either.

That's right.

Yeah. I suppose it's not quite a social call.

That's right.

Yeah. Well, if it's business, I can afford to give you a drink.

Business must be very good.

How do you mean?

You get about much, do you?

A bit.

Business?

Not quite.

Across the Channel?

Sometimes.

Must carry a very comfortable cargo.

Purely for pleasure, son. Purely for pleasure.

Nosy little mouse, your friend, isn't he?

Yeah.

What's he sniffing about?

Ah, habit.

Bodie.

So, give over with the lockjaw. What are you after?

- A gun. - Shooters?

Oh, that's not my style.

No, you want somebody like, um, Tinkerbell.

Only he's inside, isn't he?

And he'd spread your guts all over the pavement.

No. We're after one particular gun. A special.

One that's done a big one?

Not yet. Could do any time.

What's so special about it?

Power, distance, and it's got a special sight.

And you've lost it. And whoever found it knew you had it.

You heard anything?

Not a sneeze. You want me to ask around?

It'll cost you.

A couple of favours?

All right, son, I hear you.

A bit of "in good standing" always helps.

Need I say, it's urgent.

Always is.

Oh, and while you're at it, somebody tried to blow me up,

put a couple of pound of gelly under me wheels.

Now, that's not nice. What kind of war are you in?

Where I'm the target.

Hope to hear from you, Brownie.

- I always knew it, you know. - What?

- You're as mad as he is. - Who?

The nutter! Could be anywhere, couldn't he? Eh?

A thousand yards. What's that?

A hit. Easy, couldn't miss.

That's right, but he won't, will he? Well, not yet anyway.

He's teasing me. He's not just a nutter;

he's a sadistic nutter. He's setting me up.

Yeah, and you're just going to sit here and take it like

a traditional nanny goat.

Till he comes out to get me.

And then what?

You'll save me.

3.7

3.7, message for 3.6.

Go ahead.

Please contact Maurice Richards urgently. Message ends.

- Okay. - Thank you.

Maurice Richards?

Yeah, used to be a friend of mine down at the Yard.

Keeps an old pub on the river.

Now where are you going?

Phone.

Yeah, well, watch your back!

You watch it!

Double seven three two.

Maurice, it's Ray Doyle.

Oh, Ray, I've been trying to reach you. You don't make it easy, do you?

Yeah, well, I've been a bit busy, Maurice. What is it?

Well, it's a couple of things.

Now look, um, I can't swear to it,

but when you left here last night-- well, I thought I saw a car follow you.

What sort?

A Porsche. I couldn't get the number, too dark.

Does it mean anything?

Yeah. Yeah, it does. You said a couple of things.

Maurice?

Maurice!

Yeah, that's right.

Look, I couldn't say anything last night, but--

what the devil?

Maurice!

That's it. A 0.22 as fired by the 180 automatic rifle.

Why? How could anyone have known he'd got something to tell me?

Maybe they didn't.

He could have tuned in to the radio.

A possibility, so as from now you're both to maintain radio silence

except in extreme emergency.

Yes, sir.

Next, what did he have to tell you?

First, the car tailing us.

Tailing you. It was here again last night when he was in the pub.

And obviously followed us back to Kathie's place.

And the second?

Oh, well. It must have been something he already knew,

because he got as far as saying it was

something he couldn't tell me last night.

So we've got some related facts. Richards and Doyle, but not you.

Rigging the car bomb could have been a grudge against CI5.

Taking the 180, possible also. But killing Richards,

ex-cop, stalking you, you're Richard's ex-bully boy, ex-cop.

So it's nothing to do with CI5.

This is something out of your past, Doyle, out of your time at the Yard.

Someone who hates you so much he wants to see you

squirm before he brings you to your knees.

And puts a bullet through your head.

Better check through a list of your friends, mate.

And if this goes back to your days on the Force,

that means the killer's had a long time to make his revenge.

- Like a few years inside. - Exactly.

I've got the police and prison service

checking their records to see if anyone Maurice and you

arrested has been released lately. Anyone spring to mind?

Not immediately, sir, no.

We put away a few hard cases, but a nutter like this, no.

Right. Then we'll just have to jog your memory.

While you've still got one left to jog.

You were a busy young copper. The terror of Stepney Green.

Direct orders from the Commissioner: if you want me, call me.

Well, you could always take me out to supper if I get a break.

Hold my hand.

That was last night.

We don't want to make a habit of it, do we?

I am sorry about getting you involved in all that.

But when Cowley got on to me being at the pub,

I could hardly say I was out with my granny, could I.

You might have been safer.

Yeah. Hey. You realise you could have blown it with Cowley, don't you?

I never want a man who doesn't want me.

So, what will you do if you've blown it?

Emigrate.

You are sure about tonight, aren't you?

Quite. Where will you be?

Oh, back at my place, going through these.

Now, if you get hungry.

Perhaps. We don't want you wandering about the streets, do we?

Without Bodie to look after me.

Or me. Ciao.

Ciao.

- So what have you got? - Vibrations.

Oh, what's that supposed to mean? Do you know where it is?

No, but there could be one on the market.

How do you know?

I put the word around that I have a buyer for a 180.

Someone nibbled?

By telephone, claiming to be a go-between.

I confirmed my interest; he said he'd call me back.

I'll arrange to have your phone tapped.

Sorry, Bodie. Friendship doesn't stretch that far.

All right, put a recorder on it then!

I record all my conversations, naturally.

All right, Marty. Look, I won't listen to anything you don't want me to, okay?

Satisfactory.

Look, as soon as you hear anything, you'll let me know, won't you?

Any time, day or night.

Yes, of course. Haven't I done so already?

We're obliged to help each other these days, aren't we, Bodie?

We spiked it a little with brandy to keep you going.

Oh, thanks.

Closed.

Back another month?

Back another month.

Will Doyle be all right?

He'd better be. He's had fair warning.

Hallo.

Good morning, this is your friendly night watchman here.

How about some breakfast?

Push.

Couldn't you find anywhere better to sleep?

Who's been sleeping?

Anyway, I've crashed out in worse places.

I'll bet you have.

Africa!

Africa? Where's that?

Yeah, never mind, where's my breakfast?

What do you think this is, a transport cafe?

Oh, magic. Bacon, eggs, tomatoes, beans, sausage.

What've you got?

That's it. It'll be all right toasted.

- I'm starving, Ray! - Go on, it'll be all right.

Have it.

Hallo?

Kathie.

All right, push.

- Hallo. - Hallo.

Are you all right?

Like you see, except we're a bit hungry.

Morning.

I've got you some breakfast.

- Ah, great. - Angel of mercy.

I know.

By the way, I met your postman as I was coming in. Here.

What's that?

Feels like a book, in a plain brown wrapper.

What have you been buying?

Yeah, Kathie, love, just, uh,

put it down very, very carefully on the table and walk away, all right?

You don't think it's--?

Okay, go.

Bought any good adult books lately?

No.

- Here-- - No!

It was for me.

Kathie, out.

- I-- - Get out!

Go that way.

Wires.

How many?

Two.

Ray.

What?

Go!

Your friend has a sense of humour.

Yeah, we nearly died laughing.

He's made fools of both of you.

It wasn't meant to explode. He crossed the wires over.

- What's he playing at? - You don't know, Doyle?

Another taunt, another turn of the screw.

Don't you know your man yet?

Doesn't this tell you, doesn't it, Doyle?

Names, Doyle, names of every man released from Her Majesty's prisons

in the last six months:

ex-Detective Superintendent Preston and ex-Detective Inspector Montgomery.

- You know them? - Yeah.

They hate you enough to kill you?

You were looking at the wrong files, man.

You didn't work on their case; you were part of it.

Police evidence came primarily from yourself and one other.

Maurice Richards.

Well, find them, lads! Find them!

Preston.

Doyle.

What is he in such a hurry about?

Oh, he always drives like that. No, I just wanted to see how you were,

what you've been up to since your release.

You still in the Force?

No. CI5.

Oh, yes. That'd suit you, Doyle. Congratulations.

Seen much of Maurice Richards since you've been out?

Only what I've read in the papers. I was sorry about that.

It isn't a CI5 job, though, is it?

Where were you yesterday afternoon around 4.15?

Oh, that takes me back a bit. I used to say things like that.

Where were you?

With my probation officer.

Where?

Miles away from Maurice Richards,

if that's what you're thinking. In Greenwich.

I got stuck down there, as a matter of fact.

There was a terrible traffic jam in the Rotherhithe tunnel.

A big truck broke down.

That your car, is it?

Yes, Officer.

What about the night before?

The night before last, you mean?

Yeah.

Uh, I had a drink down the local, then an early night.

With your wife?

Don't make me laugh. My wife left me.

Oh, I am sorry.

There's no need to be; it wasn't much of a marriage, anyway.

Now, you'll have to excuse me, if you don't mind.

I've got an appointment.

With your probation officer?

It's a condition of parole.

You understand, until I get a steady job?

Which could take a long time. Nobody loves a bent copper, do they?

You weren't thinking of coming in, were you?

Without a warrant?

Well, you two don't exactly love each other, do you?

Well, like he said, nobody loves a bent copper.

Well, never mind. Let's try the other one.

No good you ringing that bell, man.

- No? - Mr Montgomery gone away.

- When? When did he go? - Where?

I don't know, man. What you think I am, a Nosy Parker or something?

I mind my own damn business; you mind yours.

Afternoon.

Hallo? Yeah, hallo, Brownie. Have you got something for me?

I think so. Can we meet?

Yeah, when?

Uh, about an hour?

All right, I'll come to the boat.

Uh, no. I'm out East. Tell you what,

you know the old swing bridge, past the moorings?

What are you doing there?

No questions, Ray.

Ah, come on.

It's a big place, Brownie. I'll meet you half way.

No, no. I've got to wait it out.

You'll, you'll hurry?

Yeah, all right. I'll, uh, meet you there in about an hour.

3.6 to 2.4.

2.4. Go ahead, 3.6.

I'm on my way to meet a contact.

Roger, 3.6.

Maintaining radio silence. Out.

3.7 to 2.4.

2.4. Go ahead, 3.7.

I'm at 4.5's place. He's not at home. Any information? Over.

3.6 is on his way to meet a contact. Maintaining radio silence.

Thanks a bundle, 2.4. Do you know where?

Negative, 3.7.

Thank you. Out.

Doyle? Brownie?

Anyone at home?

What?

- 3.7-- - Oh, listen, Bodie.

That missing copper, Montgomery, we've located him.

He's on a fishing holiday with his family in Scotland,

been there for the past two weeks.

Get round to Preston's house. I'll meet you there.

At last, Bodie. I thought we said hurry.

I'm sorry, sir. I had a bit further to come.

Well, come on in, man.

I thought you'd like to know what we found.

Hi, Kathie.

Here.

Plane tickets?

To Buenos Aires.

Two?

Yes, Bodie, that's what we found. And what Maurice Richards knew:

Preston and Miss Mason were married before he went inside. Seven years ago.

You bitch! You set Ray up!

She set us up from the start!

He didn't even have to follow us, did he?

You knew exactly where he was gonna be, and you know exactly where he is now.

You'd better tell me, my lovely.

Because if anything happens to Ray,

I'm going to find your sadistic boyfriend--

Husband.

"husband" and kill him. Very slowly.

And then, to save you the pleasure of spending

the rest of your miserable life in gaol,

I'm going to do the same for you, with great joy.

Did you hear that, Mr Cowley?

I never heard a word, Miss Mason. Not a single word.

His eyesight's not very good, either, you know.

Brownie!

Brownie!

Ray! Ray!

Over here! Ray!

For Christ's sake, Ray! He'll kill me! Ray!

Let him go, Preston!

Ray! Ray! Ray!

Preston!

- Do something, Ray! - Shut up!

He's over there.

You enjoying yourself, Doyle? I am!

Why don't you shoot the bastard?

From this range, I might as well spit at him! Shut up!

Ray, I can't reach!

Look down, Preston! Look down!

Gently now, Preston. Put the gun down slowly.

Don't be a fool, Preston! Drop it!

Well, your fellows cut it a bit fine.

Send us a memo. In triplicate.

Well, it's certainly an impressive weapon.

You can say that again, sir. Half the time, you don't need to use it.

Your man sees the red dot on him, knows he's got no chance, gives up.

Providing he knows what it is, of course.

Well, your mate Preston did, didn't he?

I still want a full written evaluation from you, including its efficiency.

I think Preston proved that, sir.

He shot Richards in his own pub half a mile away across the river.

Yeah, no wonder he packed in when you lined that one up on him.

Yeah, he did, didn't he?

Your arms dealer friend may have some explaining to do.

I want to know how he got hold of a 180 for you.

Oh, didn't I tell you, sir? It's not a real gun, you know.

It's only a dummy.

Just to demonstrate the sight, look.

It's good, isn't it?

Bodie!

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