All language subtitles for Highlander - 6x07 - Unusual Suspects

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Give her a polish, Pierre.

Put her to bed.

Sure.

Ah.

Welcome. Welcome...

to Fitzcairn Manor's
annual grouse shoot
and executive witch hunt.

Why are we all laughing?
It's not as if
it's even funny.

It never was funny,
and it never will be funny.

Just enjoy it.

With a touch of luck,
who knows, we might
never ever hear it again.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,
I would especially
like to welcome...

the three men who made
all our good fortunes possible--

my beloved partner,
Percy Tynebridge--

Cloak, Ernest.

And the finest solicitor
in the whole of Great Britain,
Norbert Drimble.

Last but not least,

this many-sceptered isle's
only honest accountant,

Simon Loxley.

And may I introduce
a special guest for tonight.

Joining us on vocals,
the apple of my orchard,

the fire of my heart,

the woman who makes it
all worthwhile,

my beautiful wife,
Juliette.

Lipstick. Lipstick.

Oh, you're so naughty.

Right.
Two, three, four.

Fiddle dee dee
Fiddle dee dee

The fly has married
the bumblebee

Says the fly
says he
Will you marry me

And live with me
sweet bumblebee

Fiddle dee dee
Fiddle dee dee

The fly has married
the bumblebee

Fitz!

Fitz!
Juliette!

Good God.

- He's dead.

the Highlander.

Born in 1592,
in the Highlands of Scotland,

and he is still alive.

He is immortal.

For 400 years,
he's been a warrior,

a lover,

a wanderer,

constantly facing
other Immortals
in combat to the death.

The winner
takes his enemy's head...

and with it, his power.

I am a Watcher,

part of a secret society
of men and women...

who observe and record,
but never interfere.

We know the truth
about Immortals.

In the end,
there can be only one.

May it be Duncan MacLeod,
the Highlander.

Here we are

Born to be kings

We're the princes
of the universe

I am immortal

I have inside me
blood of kings

I have no rival

No man can be my equal

Take me to the future
of your world

The heart is everything.

When a heart
such as his beats,
it powers the world.

When it stops,
it makes us all
a little smaller.

It gives me
some comfort to know...

that the last thing my dear
departed husband heard...

was my special love song
for him.

It was a song
that brought him great joy,

and it is with those words
that I lay him to rest.

Fiddle dee dee
Fiddle dee dee

The fly has married
the bumblebee

Says the fly
says he

Will you marry me
and live with me

Sweet bumblebee

It meant so much to him.

A dozen lilies?
Too gauche?

Not for you.

Have a little respect
for the dead, laddie.

Oh, it was
a lovely funeral.

Yes. Half a dozen people...

for a man of my stature,
my standing.

You're a personality, Fitz.

It's the first time
in 800 years you haven't
been broke,

and it's made you
a complete jackass.

I'm a late bloomer.
Still, at least you came.

Oh, just to see
what you were up to this time.

- You think I organized this?
- A chance to drop in
on your own eulogy?

I wouldn't put it past you.

True. Yes.
I might have enjoyed it,

had I not been murdered.

Oh, you'll do anything
for attention, won't you?

Excuse me. May I
point out that I died
of a heart attack.

And Immortals
do not die of heart attacks.

Unless they're induced
heart attacks.

Exactly. And the timing
could not have been worse!

Everything I own
has been funneled
into American stocks.

You know, a sort of, uh,
"return from the death" fund,
if you will.

But-- correct me if I'm wrong--
you're a little behind
on your paperwork.

Yes. Details, details.

Problem is I was murdered
before I had time
to create a new me.

- Ipso facto.
- You're broke!

Well, if you want to be
crass about it, yes.

All my assets might as well
be buried with that coffin.

What do you want me
to do about it?

Find the person
that murdered me.

Fitz, I am not a cop.
And besides, it's only money.

No, Mac. Mac.

It's much more.
Oh, is it?

Duncan.

Are you all right?

Oh, I just needed
a moment with my thoughts.

Fitz used to love
to spend time in here.

If you close your eyes,

it's almost as if
he's still here.

I know what you mean.

He meant a great deal to you,
didn't he?

Juliette.

Just a little token
of my affection.

Thank you, Duncan.
Thank you.

God, she's beautiful.

For a grieving widow.
Yes.

Taut muscles,
passion simmering below
the surface...

like a volcano
about to erupt.

Mmm.
She's a lioness
in heat, MacLeod.

And you're dead.

You wouldn't.

Oh, no, no.

Look, if you won't get involved
for my sake, then do it
for the sake of that good woman.

What?

I fear for her safety.

Fitz, you're the one
with the enemies, not her.

She dies, the money
goes to my partners.

You want to leave her
at the mercy of the bastard
that killed me?

take her to America
with me.

We really love each other, Mac.

You've got to find the person
that murdered me,

and you've got to find him fast.

Otherwise the next funeral
you go to will be hers.

And it will be on your head.

Oh, no, you don't.

You did that on purpose.
She dies a lot more permanently
than I do.

Everything concerning
his legal matters.

Apparently not, Norbert.

And I gather this comes
as something of a surprise
to you too, Simon.

And what
are you suggesting?

I believe she's suggesting
that if you'd been attending
to business,

then you would have been aware
that I'd been made sole executor
of Mr. Fitzcairn's estate.

Exactly.

Precisely.

I'm afraid
I can't read the will until
two days after the funeral.

Be serious!
We are busy men.

Apparently.

You cannot expect
us to wait around for two days
on a whim of yours.

This is ridiculous.

I don't have to
put up with this.
Nor I.

Can I get a lift
back to city with you?

I'm afraid you haven't, uh,
understood me, gentlemen.

Maybe I haven't made myself
clear. Nobody has to
put up with anything.

It's just that, uh,
in absence of any Fitzcairns
by blood,

it makes you four
the primary beneficiaries
of the will.

But a codicil
states that...

only those present
at the reading will be
beneficiaries of the estate.

Well, perhaps
I've overreacted.
Quite right.

With this dreadful weather,
it's hardly a good time
to be on the road.

Extraordinary.
How lifelike.

The eyes seem to follow you
everywhere you go.

Amazing paintings.

The artist's genius
actually pains me.

I say it again.
Oh, I must find more of them.
Excuse me, gentlemen.

Loxley.

What the devil
did you do that for?

You want me to help,
then don't interfere.

We're a team.
A team, laddie.
Yeah, some team.

Now that they think
I've got the real will,

how long before one of them
wants to kill me?

You're right.
Damn risky business, this.
Thanks for your concern.

Duncan?

Duncan?
Mm.

Did I hear you
talking to someone?

Uh, no, just myself.

I could have sworn
I heard Fitzy's voice.

Oh. I sometimes think
I hear it myself.

We must be imagining things.

It comes from our grief.

If only I knew
what was in the will,

I'm sure it would take
the sting away a bit.

I'm sorry.
I wish I could help.

My heart is broken.

Can you feel it, Duncan?

Uh, it doesn't feel broken.

That noise.
What noise?

I didn't hear
a voice?

It must have been me.
Oh. Right.

You were going to
tell me about the will.

Uh, no, I wasn't.

Is there something
wrong with it?

The will?
The breast.

Oh, no, no.
It's-- It's fine.

Fine?

Fitzy said that
they were extraordinary.

Well, they-they are,
but, you know, um--

Juliette, I'm sorry.
I can't help you
with the will.

Duncan, I would have thought
that you of all people
would have understood my needs.

Really.

"Fine"?
Mm.

"Fine" is a well-kept motorcar,

a good wine,
decent china.

But "fine" is hardly a way
to compliment
the perfect breast.

Would you try and keep
your attention
to the matter at hand?

Yes, I certainly was.

What's that?
No. Fitzcairn.

Listen. I've got it.

It's definitely Drimble.

He dragged his feet
drawing up
the papers I needed.

Yes. Now there's
a suspicious
character for you.

He's no more suspicious
than anybody else.

And nothing points to him.
Exactly.

Which is why
we need to set a trap.
A trap?

Yes. You have got to
rearrange the grouse shoot.

Are you insane?
Give them all guns?
It's brilliant.

Give them all guns,
and the killer
is bound to shoot you.

Oh, yeah,
that is brilliant.

You'll need this.

I don't think this weather
will hold.

I feel a storm coming.

Tell me, Juliette.
Is this little hunt
your idea?

Me? No. You know
I deplore guns.

Damn.

I say, is he all right?
Of course he's not,
you bloody idiot.

He's been shot.

He's dead.

Are you suggesting
that one of us is a murderer?

Yes, Sherlock,
that's exactly what he's saying.

Oh! Then was my poor Fitzy
murdered too?

Well, two deaths in two days
is more coincidence
than I care for.

Well, I don't mind telling you
that I'm getting a little
on edge as well.

- Then why don't you
find Pierre?
- Pierre?

What I was going to suggest
was that Pierre go down
to the village...

and fetch the local
constabulary.
Oh, yes.

Oh. That's what
I thought you meant.

Maybe not.

Dinner will be served
in half an hour.

Dinner will be served
in half an hour.

Roast grouse.

Poor Fitzy.

Grouse was his favorite,
you know.

Oh, how his face
would light up when he'd tear
their little drumsticks off.

How I miss that...

silly, sweet little man.

Hmm. Would you excuse me
for a moment?

Where are you going, Duncan?

I'm going to see
about the port.

Hello.

Oh, nasty weather.

Marie, right?

Can I call you Marie?
Yes.

the look
that you gave Juliette.
What look?

You can talk to me.

Please, monsieur,
it would get me fired.

Fitzcairn was
my closest friend.

Any confidence will be held
in the strictest privacy,
naturally.

No offense,
but if you were that close,
then you would already know.

Oh, it's that kind
of confidence.

Monsieur Fitzy
never loved that woman.
Yes, well, he did get around.

He loved me, monsieur.
Oh, of course. Yes.

I'm sure he did.
But how can
you be certain?

Because I'm carrying
his child.

We were more than just lovers.

Are you sure
it's Fitzcairn's child?

What are you saying?
Do you think I would
love somebody else?

Oh, no,
I was just suggesting--

Do you think
I would give this body,
this temple to another?

It's just that, uh,

Fitzcairn never
talked to me about a family.

You think what?
The butcher? The baker?

The baker? I didn't know
he had a baker.

The chauffeur?
No.

Mr. Tynebridge?

But only once.

Only once.
Tynebridge.

You make me sick-- all of you.

Get out. Stay out of my kitchen.
Yes. Absolutely.
Yes. Fine. Yes.

I just have one--
Get out.

Okay.

Mon dieu.
A ghost.

Are you all right?

Did you see that?

See what?

N-Nothing.
I saw absolutely nothing.

Psst.

Psst.

Psst. Over here.

Did you see Marie?
Oh, yeah.

Did she see anything,
say anything?

Well, for starters,
she says she's carrying
your baby.

Really?

Is she sure?
Oh, quite.

Oh! Now that's news
worth dying for.

Just imagine it, Mac,

a bonny lassie or a wee laddie
bouncing on my knee.

Yeah. Watching them
take their first steps.

- Riding their first bicycle.
- Teaching them how to swim.

Immortals can't have kids.

The slut!

All this time she's been
cuckolding me
with that damn butler.

Yeah. Maybe the butcher.
No, it was the butler, Pierre.

It's probably the baker.
I haven't got a baker.

Yeah. And once
with Tynebridge.
Tynebridge? He's a married man.

- Yeah, well, so are you.
- But-- But she's my maid.

Look, enough
of these trivialities.

We have got to come up with
some hard facts.

Yeah, well, try this one
on for size.

- Drimble is dead.
- Dead?

- Yeah.
- So I was wrong about him.

We can safely cross him
off our list of suspects.

So it must have been Marie.

I don't think so. She might
have been after your money,
but she'd never murder you.

Yes. Well.

Yes, that was definitely
the old Fitzcairn charm working.

Wait.
I haven't finished yet.

Oh, yes, you have.
No, Mac.

We have got to come up with
a plan to get my money back.
After I've had my dinner.

What about me?
You're dead.
Dead men don't eat.

Ooh. My nose.

Of course.

Of course.

We've been waiting
for you, Duncan.
What took you so long?

I know how Fitz died.

Actually, he was poisoned.

How do you know?

A little rat told me.

You got into Brazil last year
with Fitz, didn't you?

It was a business trip.
I don't see that it matters now.

Get into the backcountry
at all?
So what?

Come across any poisons?

Something that would
kill a man and make it
look like a heart attack?

Something like curare.

We came across a small tribe
of South American Indians.

They put it on their blow darts
to shoot monkeys.

- Shoot monkeys?

Why on earth would anybody
want to shoot monkeys?

I didn't shoot anything.
What are you suggesting?

Well, the Indians eat monkeys.
Draw your own conclusions.

Be careful, MacLeod.
Be very careful.

You ate monkeys?

Not me. Him.

Damn you, Loxley.
Preposterous.

- Monkeys?
- Actually, they're not too bad.
They taste a little bit like--

I found him in the garage,
bludgeoned to death.

He was lying by the car.

Who?
Pierre.

God, how I loved him.

My life is over.

I loved him like a butler.
Like a brother. A brother.
A brother?

Just-- I don't believe this.

Well, I don't think there's
anybody here we can send out
in this storm tonight.

Not on a night like this.

Monkeys.

It's a sign.
We're all going to die.

Well, it's the only way
to keep them until
the storm lets up.

Unless you want them
going off.

A meat locker?

It's getting decidedly
packed in here.

Poor Pierre.
Who could have done
such a thing to him?

Bludgeoning his skull.
Breaking his ribs.

How did you know
his ribs were broken?

Well, he looks like
a man with broken ribs,
doesn't he?

Stop staring at me
like that.

Suspicion is an ugly thing,
Tynebridge, especially
in the face of motive.

I'm not the only one
with a stake in the will.

Oh. It's getting cold
in here.

I'm not hungry anymore.

Yes. Well, I think we should
hang him up later.

We should all go to bed.

That is, make sure
your doors are locked.

It is only my heart...

beating.

Take me now.

Take me.

Hardly cold in my grave.

Both shot monkeys.

Marie had the butler,
the baker, the chauffeur.

Oh, no.

What are you doing?
I knew it.

So damn obvious.
I almost feel embarrassed.

Stay there.

Oh. What was
that awful noise?

I don't know.
More rats?

Oh, definitely.

Where's Loxley?
Well, he must have
slept through it.

Sounds like
an excellent idea.

Well, I'm--
I'm gonna go
and do some reading.

Okay.
Good night, uh,
Juliette.

Good night, Duncan.
Good night.

Right in front of my eyes.

I never did trust that swine
of an accountant Loxley.

Ouch! That's my arm.

Will you shut up?
Or I won't get you out of there.

Me shut up?
I'm the victim here.
The murderee.

MacLeod,
you've got to do something.

- Oh, if I could just let
Juliette know I was all right.

Maybe I should just tell her
that you're an Immortal.

Mac. Mac.
My finger.

The will
is going to be read tomorrow,

and you expect me
to sit around here
doing nothing...

because you can't
come up with a suspect.

I hate to
put this to you, Fitz,
but I believe...

that you were poisoned
by your poor, grieving widow!
Shh!

Oh, my hand.

That's ridiculous. No.

No, no. She loves me, laddie.

If there's one thing
I know, it's women.

No. Juliette is no murderer.

She killed you.

You're wrong.

Not to mention the butler
and Drimble.

She had access to the poison,
she had motive--
your money-- lots of it.

Really.
Stay here.

You're making a habit...

of stating the obvious,
MacLeod.

What are you doing
in his room?
Nothing.

I'm not doing
anything.

I just heard a noise,
and I simply noticed...

that the door
to his room was open.

I think you're lying.
MacLeod.

I have a witness that saw you
kissing Loxley in the hallway.

What do you say to that?
Bad taste doesn't necessarily
lead to murder.

Thank you.
Not to mention...

I think you killed Loxley
and you killed Fitz.

Would you
stop that screeching?
Me?

Kill my darling Fitzy?
Oh, I'm just so glad he's not
alive to hear you say that.

You must be mad, Duncan.
Mad or not, I'm locking you
in your room for the night.

Can't you see what he's doing?
He's the murderer,
and he's trying to set us up.

Us? He's not accusing me.

You'll be comfortable
in your room until I can get to
the police in the morning.

Big, hairy brute.

Unhand me.
I'm innocent.

Funny, she doesn't
look like a murderer.

Yes, well, they never do.

Fi--

Fitz.

Fitz?

Look, I know you think
I'm way off base here,

but you gotta
trust me on this.

Look, if I'm wrong,

I'll apologize
to you and her.

Fitz, she knows
what I think.

It's the only way
to force her hand.

What are you doing?

I'm going to bed.
Mac, I have a plan.

Open this door
and come out here,
or there'll be hell to pay.

And about time, my dear.

About time.

It's disgusting.

Bloody disgusting.

I'm shocked.
Absolutely shocked.

Poor Fitz.

The most wonderful of men
suddenly dies,

obviously by foul means,

and I am not even notified.

I-- Or is it me?

It's definitely you.

Excuse me, sir,
but just who are you?

I am Hugh Fitzcairn, Senior.

Father of Hugh Fitzcairn,
Junior...

and sole heir to his estate.

Hmm. Funny, I don't see
the resemblance.

I can assure all of you--

both of you--

that I will not be kept
at a distance...

in a matter of such
extreme importance to my son.

A man that I consider to be
one of the finest to grace
this fair land.

It's bloody disgusting!

Well.

What the devil's
going on here?

Oh, no. Not this.

Not this.

Two-timing,
adulterous little slut
that he loved so well.

Are you sure?

My God.

She's dead.

I do not believe it!

I ask you here to help me,
and now this happens!

I'm sorry, Fitz.
I'm really sorry.

You're sorry?
My beloved Juliette
is dead,

and all you can say
for yourself is you're sorry?

I know how much
she meant to you.

Oh, no, you don't.

To you, she was just
another one of Fitzcairn's
little follies.

But I loved her, Mac.
Trysts and all.

And you couldn't believe that
when it mattered.

Fitz, I--

And you-- you even
accused her of killing me.

But-- But, Fitz,
I swear-- I swear
I'll find the guilty party.

Oh, yes.
And how bloody difficult's
that gonna be?

Now there's only one
bloody suspect left!

Even you couldn't
screw that up.

Where do you think
you're going?

As far away
from this lunatic asylum
as possible.

Not yet you're not.
Who died and made you king?

You're the only suspect left.
It doesn't take Scotland Yard
to figure that one out.

- You're mad.
- The phone lines
have been repaired.

I'm calling the police.
You're not going anywhere
until they get here.

How dare you accuse me.

The last one standing's
the killer, Tynebridge,
and that's you.

I know I didn't kill anybody. If
there's a guilty party here, as
far as I'm concerned, you're it.

But Fitzcairn was my friend.
Mine too. But the dying
didn't start until you arrived.

And is it merely coincidence
that you control the estate?
I don't think so.

No, but I'm gonna stop you
from going anywhere.

We'll see about that.

He isn't going to need it.

I won't go quietly, MacLeod.

Not like the others!

MacLeod, let me go.

You murderous bastard!

You won't get away with this.
I'm not afraid of you.

You bloodthirsty maniac.
Help. Help. Help!

I'll be right back.

Hello?

Can I have
the North Tidworth
Police, please?

One moment.

Go ahead.
I want to report a murder--
several actually.

How many specifically?
Quite a few
if you count the help.

Very well.
We have your address.
We'll send someone round.

Fine. Thank you.
Right.

Well, Tynebridge,
the Yard is on its way.

Tynebridge.

Looking for me, Duncan?

- You were dead.
- Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk.

Why is it the cute ones
are always so slow?

Of course.

Brazil. You found another
poison like curare--

one that would slow down
the body's heart rate--

I'm impressed.

Yes, you're right.
And it wears off
after a few hours.

Anyone but a doctor
would be fooled.

- I was right.
You killed them all.
- A girl's gotta do.

Yes.
Only it's not quite
all of them just yet.

I'm afraid...

you know too much.

-What about the maid?
-She'll be joining you shortly.

Next life, sweetheart.

You really are
a nasty piece of business,
aren't you?

It was a mistake for you
to come down here.

Fancy killing Fitz,
your husband, for money.

Oh. A man who loved you
with all his heart--

with every fiber of his--
Oh, please.

He loved every woman
this side of the Thames.

- He married only you.
- And I married only him.

Now, say good-bye.

Aren't you, uh,
forgetting something?

Don't you need
to keep someone alive
to take the blame?

Detective, Detective.

Ever since
my dear departed's
heart attack,

everything
just went crazy.

Drimble shot himself
in a hunting accident.

And then Pierre was bludgeoned
to death by Tynebridge...

in a jealous rage
over the maid.

I mean, you know how French
these maids can be.

- How am I doing?
- Surprisingly well.

And MacLeod. Oh.

He always had designs on me.

Killed poor old Fitz's
father in order to keep
the estate intact.

And when he attacked me,
I shot him in self-defense.

What do you think?

It's hard to see
what Fitz ever saw in you.

Harlot!

Whore.

So much for
his side of the family.

But--

No. How?

But--
Blanks.

It's impossible.
It's not fair.

No. No. Oh, Fitz left me
a very rich woman.

I could use someone
to share it with.

I don't think so.
I've gotten used to
getting up in the mornings.

Slut.

Oh, why would
I want to kill you?
Just think about it.

Oh, please.

Oh, Duncan.
Oh, have a heart.

I'm a free woman now.
Mm.

And terribly rich.
You could have anything.

Here you go, boys.
Anything, Duncan.

Careful.
She's a tricky one.
Duncan.

Duncan. Oh, stop.
Come on.

Oh, Duncan. Oh!
The fly has married
the bumblebee

Says the fly, says he
Will you marry me
Duncan!

And live with me
You seamy ingrate!

Fiddle dee dee
Fiddle dee dee

She screams a lot too.

The bumblebee

Fitz! My husband!

Fitz! What are you
doing there?

No! No!
It can't be!

Oh! Let me out!
Let me out! Let me out!

Let me out!
Oh! No! Oh! Oh! No!

Fiddle dee dee
Fiddle dee dee

Fitz, I'll get you
if it's the last thing
I do, you little worm!

Well, it's been
quite a week, Fitz.

Yes. Good riddance.

Will you be okay?
Well, nothing that
a few hundred thousand pounds--

I mean dollars--
won't sort out.
Hmm.

and Hugh Senior
can pick the money up on
the other side of the pond.

God bless America.

Yes. God bless America.

Yes. Thanks, Mac.

My pleasure.

I'm ruined! Mac!

Yes, you're bankrupt.

Wait. Wait.

I have an idea.

Yes.
I think I've got enough time
to get the train to London.

Listen, Mac.
This is a great idea.

I have a much better idea.
There's a position vacant for
a manservant in my household.

Manservant? Me?
It's very nice.

It's going to pay
handsomely.
Two pounds a week.

My idea is--

And here we are

We're the princes
of the universe

Here we belong
fighting for survival

We've come to be the rulers
of your world

I am immortal

I have inside me
blood of kings

I have no rival

No man can be my equal

Take me to the future
of your world

http://DJJ.HOME.SAPO.PT/

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