All language subtitles for Dirk.Gently.S01E01.Episode.1.1080p.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-BACON

Why do you think it's a bomb?

I didn't say it was a bomb,
MacDuff.

I said it was
a suspicious package.

Well, we should call
the bomb squad.

That's what they do.
They diffuse bombs.

If we think it's a bomb,
we should call the bomb squad.

I think it may have been
the local bomb squad

who sent it to me.

Accidentally kill a man's wife,

and there's a 30% chance
he'll be forever grateful.

Accidentally combust
a man's sniffer dog,

and he'll never forgive you.

You'd like me to get that,
would you?

Hello?

It's Mr. Edwards.

He says he thinks
someone's trying to kill him.

Tell Mr. Edwards we will be
with him shortly.

He says you said
we would be with him shortly

over 24 hours ago.

Tell him this time I mean it.

Mr. Edwards.
Yes. No.

I... Mm-hmm.

Yes. No.

It's just we think someone might
be trying to kill us as well.

We will be with you
as soon as we can.

Okay?

Bye-bye.

What is it?

Why is someone sending you
a Valentine's card in April?

The question is,

who is sending me
a Valentine's Day card in April,

and what are the series
of interconnected events

that have led this woman

to fall completely
and hopelessly in love with me?

Let's go.

Hello?

Mr. Edwards?

Mr. Edwards?

What if someone really was
trying to kill him?

Mr. Edwards!

He seemed pretty convinced.

Impossible.

How can you be so sure?

Because the circumstances
of my first meeting Mr. Edwards

lead me to believe that he is
a paranoid conspiracy theorist.

- Are you following me?
- Yes.

I explained to Mr. Edwards

that I was using a technique
known as Zen Navigation.

There is a school of thought

that says
when you are hopelessly lost,

you should consult a map,

but my own strategy is to find
someone who looks like

they know where they're going
and follow them.

I rarely end up
where I was intending to go,

but I often end up somewhere
that I needed to be.

Wow. That's bollocks.

It clearly works, MacDuff.

The perilous state
of our company's finances

suggested that we were
in dire need of a client,

while it transpires Mr. Edwards

was in dire need
of a private detective.

Mr. Edwards hired us

because he believes the Pentagon
have him under surveillance.

Why would the Pentagon
have him under surveillance?

They are the default setting
of all conspiracy theorists.

It is a case of the grown man
who cried "Pentagon."

It seems Mr. Edwards' paranoia
has now escalated

into the deluded belief that
somebody is trying to kill him,

when, in fact, he has
less chance of being murdered

than you or I.

Oh, Jesus.

Oh, I feel sick.

Something's wrong.

Of course something's wrong,
Dirk.

He's dead.

Someone really was
trying to kill him.

What if he really was
under surveillance?

What if the Pentagon
murdered him?

Tortured him
and then murdered him?

In my experience,
the people who believe

they're going to be murdered
by the Pentagon,

are invariably not the people

who get murdered
by the Pentagon.

He really was
a conspiracy theorist.

I'm a bit freaked out.

Are you freaking out?

Robbing a dead man.

That is cheap, even for you.

If the police find
my business card in his wallet,

they will no doubt hold me
for questioning.

Solving this case while
languishing in a police cell

is beyond
even my investigative abilities.

Of course, there is the small
matter of some unpaid expenses.

When the police are finished

with their fingerprint powder,
forensics, and general bungling,

our investigation into
the interconnected web of events

surrounding Mr. Edwards' murder
can begin in earnest.

Until then,
we must flee the scene.

Very quickly.

Wait.

He might be useful to us.

If he's not,
then we'll kill him.

MacDuff.

MacDuff!

After three days, it seems
the police are finally finished

with their fingerprint powder,
forensics, and general bungling.

We are back on the case.

In case you'd forgotten, Dirk,
our client is dead.

The agency is broke.

We are trying to run a business,
at least I am.

Who's paying us to investigate
this case?

The substantial reward offered

for the apprehension
of the killer

will offer more than adequate
compensation for our time.

It's not just about a reward,
though, is it?

You can't bear to be wrong.

Princess is feeling
a little delicate this morning.

We must coax her back into life.

Mm.

Hello.

Mrs. Edwards I presume.

My name is Dirk Gently.

Your husband hired me.

This is Richard MacDuff,
my assistant.

Partner and co-owner
of the company.

Why did you throw a flowerpot
through my door?

Because I'm investigating
your husband's murder,

and there is not a moment
to spare

in our quest to learn the truth
and identify the killer.

Perhaps we should
continue this conversation

over a nice cup of tea.

I'm very sorry
about your husband.

I can't actually believe
he's dead.

I keep expecting him to walk
through the door.

Um...

Thank you.

The police seemed to have moved
everything around.

In my experience, the police
have very little respect

for other people's property.

Did you know
that your husband believed

that the Pentagon had him
under surveillance?

Do you think it had something
to do with his work?

By his work,
you mean specifically?

The computer software
he was developing.

I am almost certain
that you are absolutely right.

Tea. Excellent.

Thank you.

The police
seem to be getting nowhere.

Unfortunately,
that is to be expected.

Did my husband trust you,
Mr. Gently?

With his life.

Would you be prepared
to continue your investigation?

What was my husband paying you?

Five... six...
seven hundred pounds per day,

plus all reasonable expenses.

Rest assured, Mrs. Edwards,

the web of interconnected events

will undoubtedly lead us
to your husband's killer.

David was a very paranoid man.

Wherever
the software prototype is,

he will have hidden it well.

If you can find it, we might
discover why he was murdered.

We are of the same mind.

Me too.

Thank you, MacDuff.

I don't want to be seen
to be undermining the police.

Can you be discreet, Mr. Gently?

I stake my reputation on it.

In fact, I've been known to be
so discreet

that even my clients doubt
I'm working on their case.

Think it's possible for us
to visit a crime scene

without you treating it
like a one-man buffet?

I believe Mr. Edwards' days
of requiring a mint to suck on

are well and truly behind him.

I'm convinced the answer
to the case

lies somewhere on the wall.

As ever, we are to trust
in chance, randomness, and chaos

to solve the case.

Wherever the dart lands
in this wall

will form the starting point
of our investigation.

It sometimes takes
several attempts

to achieve total randomness.

The accounts are a mess.

That would explain
why Mr. Edwards' check bounced

like a proverbial rubber ball
on a trampoline.

Why would anyone
want to invade Switzerland?

You'd need a pretty good reason.

This isn't the work
of a mad conspiracy theorist.

Isn't it?

It's the basis
of the computer software

Mr. Edwards was working on.

It's genius.

Is it?

Most computer programs
help you arrive at decisions

by ordering and analyzing
all the relevant facts

so that they then point
naturally

towards the right decision.

But what if the decision
which all the relevant,

properly ordered,
and analyzed facts point to

is not necessarily
the one you want?

Then the one you want
is probably wrong.

Since when did anyone care

whether a decision
was right or wrong?

Mr. Edwards knew that,

so he developed
a piece of software

that allowed you to specify,
in advance,

the decision you wish to reach.

The program's task
was then to construct

an irrefutable set
of logical-sounding steps

to link the premise
with the conclusion.

It justifies the unjustifiable.

Don't you see, MacDuff?

If this software were to fall
into the wrong hands,

then no people or nation
would be safe from tyranny.

Not even the Swiss.

The very existence
of the free world is at stake.

From a computer program?

Come on, Dirk.
That's a stretch, even for you.

The software that came up

with the weapons of
mass destruction justification

has been totally discredited.

Wait, that was
a computer program?

Of course it was.

What world are you living in,
MacDuff?

A different one to you,
obviously.

The Pentagon are clearly looking
to upgrade their software.

Renew subscription to Playboy...

send software prototype...

So, your plan to save
the free world

relies on the murderer
shading a notepad?

There is no doubt
the murderer will return

looking for the software.

All they will find
on Mr. Edwards' desk...

is this notepad.

When faced
with a blank piece of paper,

the only option left to them
will be to shade it.

And then they'll come looking
for you and me.

Isn't that dangerous?

Whether we like it or not,

we are now part of the web
of interconnected events

that surround this case.

We must provoke a reaction
from the other elements.

The bait has been set, MacDuff.

I think we're being followed.

Really?

Don't look.

I'm not looking.

They're still there.

Do you think it's the Pentagon?

I think...

it might be.

They're still there, Dirk

Just relax.

I'm relaxed.

Relax more.

We're nearly there.
Just act calm.

Just see if they stop
when we stop.

They're coming for us.

This sort of thing
doesn't happen, does it?

It is imperative
that they don't know

that we know
that they're following us.

We must maintain
the element of surprise.

Oh, God, it's happening.
It's really happening.

Go. Go.
Go, go, go, go, go!

What about Janice?

She'll be all right.

I'm looking for Dirk Gently.

There's a woman here to see you.

- Then show her in.
- What are you doing?

You show her in!

How can I show her in
when I'm already in myself?

Perhaps it would be best
if I showed myself in?

Were you following us?

She wasn't following us,
MacDuff.

She was merely going to
the same place at the same time,

which, in itself,
is profoundly relevant.

Dirk.
Dirk Gently.

Emma Reynolds.

Richard MacDuff.
Partner.

Assistant.

You must tell us
what brought you here.

The very existence
of the free world is at stake.

I think my husband's
having an affair.

Oh, boring.

Please.

What makes you think your
husband is having an affair?

Well, he's been behaving
so strangely.

He's irrational and impulsive.

He stays away for hours,

and then he's all secretive
about where he's been

or he says he doesn't remember.

I just want to be sure.

Yeah.

I need proof.

Yeah.

We'd love to help, obviously,
wouldn't we, Dirk?

But we are...

we're in the middle of
a very big case at the moment.

A murder.

It could have
international implications.

It's big. It's, um...

Well, it's potentially huge.

Um...

Uh... Oh.

Okay.

Oh.

We used to be so happy.

He's changed.

There must be some reason.

I'll take the case.

What? I'm...

What about the free world,
the other case?

I believe that Mr. Reynolds
extramarital activities

are part of an interconnected
web of events

that we must come to understand
in its entirety

if we are to identify
Mr. Edwards' killer.

Thank you.

Quick settlement of my invoice
will be all the thanks I need.

We also need a recent photograph
of your husband

before we commence
what I can assure you

will be
a most intrusive surveillance.

The police
don't seem to have any idea

who killed Mr. Edwards.

That's because they're looking
in all the wrong places.

We should be investigating
his murder.

We are investigating
Mr. Edwards' murder,

but we are doing so
tangentially.

Ooh!

Our pizza.

Excellent.

What's the time?

What time do you make?
What time do you have?

What time do you make it
at the moment?

What time is it now?

Look, it says here
on your thing.

Can you read that?
Can you read that?

That's my pizza.

Their promotional material
clearly states that if the pizza

isn't delivered within the hour,
then it is free.

It probably doesn't count when
you give them the wrong address.

MacDuff, that's him!

That's Mr. Reynolds!

Right.

I'll take the philandering,
soon-to-be-divorced husband.

You take the attractive woman
of Mediterranean origin.

She's on a bike.

Then you will need to run.

Do you need a lift?

Huh?

Where are you going?

Um, where are you going?

Islington.

What an amazing coincidence.

I can smell pizza.

Oh, that's me.
You have a keen sense of smell.

It's very good of you
to give me a lift like this.

It's my horoscope.

It predicted that today
I would help a stranger.

And, well, here we are.

You think our meeting like this
can be explained

by your horoscope?

Well, how else
would you explain it?

It's him.

Terence Brown.

He's amazing.

His horoscopes are so accurate.

It's coming true every day.

It was just little things
to start with.

Now it's everything.

It's like it's taking over
my life.

You're suggesting
that the movements of planets,

billions of light-years away,

are somehow determining
your actions?

You realize
that's completely impossible?

I didn't believe it either
to start with.

But it's really happening.

I was a happily married man.

About a month ago,
my horoscope predicted

that a new romantic possibility
would present itself.

That's when I met...

Maria.

She was struggling
with her shopping.

She'd hurt her ankle
while performing a routine.

She's a pole dancer.

Pole dancer.

Why are you making notes?

Oh, it's professional habit.

You're a private detective.

Mm.

Perhaps I can be
of some service to you.

Mr. Reynolds hired you?

So now we're charging
two clients

to investigate the same case?

That has to go against
our code of conduct.

Do we have a code of conduct?

Of course we don't.
It's you.

They're clearly not the same
case, are they, MacDuff?

Miss Reynolds
asked us to investigate

whether her husband
was having an affair.

Mr. Reynolds
asked us to investigate

why his horoscope
is seemingly coming true.

Now, the two cases
are undoubtedly connected,

as all things are,

but they are not the same case,

as is clearly demonstrated

by the fact
that they have separate files.

And they are both
inextricably linked

to Mr. Edwards,

as clearly demonstrated

by the fact they reside
in the same filing cabinet.

So, what's the connection?

Is there some sort of
professional link?

Is there a personal connection?

What does Mr. Reynolds do
for a living?

I don't know.

If the connections
were that simple,

any idiot
could set themselves up

as a holistic detective.

Oh, really?

Conspiracy theories
and horoscopes

are all a product
of the same ill-conceived desire

to impose order on the world.

What their proponents
fail to understand

is that we must embrace chaos

if we are to come to
an understanding of the world

in all its complexity.

There's some men here.

Oh, that'll be for me.

Hi, guys.
Come on in.

All right.

- Thanks, guys.
- Cheers, mate.

What the hell is that?

I'm your partner.

Assistant.

I need somewhere to work.

Well, now that you're
comfortable, MacDuff,

perhaps you would care
to keep an eye out

for Mr. Edwards' murderer

who has probably shaded
the notepad by now

and may well be stopping by
at any moment.

I can't see anyone.

I suspect they'll wait
until it's dark.

It is dark.

Then I suspect they'll be
paying us a visit at any minute.

Did you know you can tell
a lot about a person

by their handwriting?

Observe the wild loops and
the extravagant down strokes.

Let me guess.

It means
they're completely insane.

You may well be right.

Where are you going?

I'm going to get us a pizza.

We're expecting a murderer
to drop by any second.

You're perfectly safe, MacDuff.

No, I'm not!

The bait has been set.

I'm not going to stand here
alone, in the trap,

while you go get a pizza.

Whoever the killer is,
they're not gonna kill us

until they've got their hands
on the software,

as we haven't got the software,
they're never going kill us.

We're more in danger
of starving to death.

Dirk?

Dirk?

Ow!

What the hell are you doing,
MacDuff?

You nearly made me drop
my pizza!

- Someone attacked me!
- That was me, you idiot!

No. Before that.
Someone else attacked me.

Then whoever it is has fallen
straight into the middle

of my carefully prepared trap.

No, don't worry about me.
I'm fine!

Anticipating that the murderer
would wish to ransack our office

in search of the software,

I had the foresight
to install surveillance.

Dim the lights, MacDuff.

The identity of Mr. Edwards'
murderer will soon be revealed.

Where are you going?

I'm going to get us a pizza.

What? We're expecting a murderer
any second.

I'm Dirk Gently.

It's all interconnected.

My assistant will make you tea.

I was just killing some time.

Dirk?

Right, if you'd told me
there was a camera there,

that would never have happened.

You see, this is why
you need to start treating me

like a partner.

Are you happy now, MacDuff?
Are you?

You stabbed my chair.

You stabbed my...

- What is it?
- Shh!

It appears your chair
was bugged, MacDuff.

Oh, Jesus.

Oh, Jesus.
The Pentagon bugged my chair.

They know everything.

They attacked me!

Dirk.

What if they know where I live?

I'll call Susan.

Susan.
It's Richard.

Listen, I need you to...

No, just go to a friend's house.

Don't... I can't ex...

No, just...

Please just go
to a friend's house!

She's going to go
to a friend's house.

If the Pentagon bugged
your chair,

they will have heard me say

that we are not, in fact,
in possession of the software,

therefore they would have
no need to assault you

and ransack the office.

Well, then, who attacked me?

Someone attacked me.
Right before you did, I mean.

It appears we have
provoked several reactions

from other elements in the web.

We must now try and understand
the connections between them.

- Miss Reynolds.
- Sorry.

I've been calling all day,
but I keep getting stuck

in some sort of automated
answering service.

Yes, yes.
It can be rather stubborn.

Please take a seat.

I had to find out
whether you've made any progress

with the investigation.

Well, it appears the case
is somewhat more complex

than we initially thought.

What do you mean?

Your husband believes
his horoscope is coming true.

Since this is
clearly impossible,

something else is afoot,

and by following the web
of interconnected events,

I feel confident that
we will discover what it is.

But is he having an affair?

Oh, yes, he's having an affair,

with a rather attractive woman
of Mediterranean origin.

She has lovely skin.

Oh.

I'll just get my assistant
to make you a cup of tea.

Mr. Gently,
I have to talk to you.

It's my horoscope.

It says that
a "dark secret will be exposed."

Now, I think that my wife knows.

Emma, why are you here?

I hired Mr. Gently.

Why are you here?

I hired Mr. Gently.

Can I just say right here

we are treating these
as two very distinct cases?

Separate files.

You're having an affair.

No. It's not what you think.

It's not me.
It's my horoscope.

It's Jupiter rising.

Why?

Emma, it's not me.

It's what my horoscope
predicted.

What does it say?

"Life will deliver
a slap in the face."

- Now do you believe me?
- Absolutely not.

And in the morning,

after a good night's sleep
and a hearty breakfast,

and after I have evaded
the Pentagon surveillance,

I will prove
beyond a shadow of a doubt

that these events have
nothing to do with Jupiter,

or any other planet, rising.

What have you done to your leg?

Nothing wrong with my leg,
MacDuff.

I took three tubes and four
different buses on the way here.

Hopping on and off all the way.

I don't think I was followed.
Did you see anyone?

No.

But that doesn't mean
we aren't being watched.

Why are we here?

How is this getting us any
closer to Mr. Edwards' killer?

Well, that's the beauty
of holistic detection, MacDuff.

We're getting closer,

even when it appears
we're moving further away.

Mr. Brown will see you now.
You can go up.

Please take a seat.

I prefer to stand.

Right.

So, what can I do for you,
Mr. Gently?

I'm led to believe
that you specialize

in providing
personalized horoscopes?

Yes, we e-mail them to over
two million people worldwide.

Our client has come to believe

that the predictions made in
his horoscope are coming true.

You sound surprised?

Well, a scientific mind
such as mine can never accept

that the movements of planets
billions of light-years away

are in any way responsible

for determining our behavior.

I'm not sure what it is
you're telling me.

Don't look at me.

I presume
these horoscopes are generated

by some kind of computer program
stored on a server?

Correct.

Mm.

Well, then, it would appear

that this software

is responsible
for my client's distress.

You think our computer software

is somehow victimizing
your client?

It would appear so, yes.

I believe
that's your phone ringing.

Hello? What?

Jesus! How bad is it?

No.
Call a plumber.

I'll be right there.

A pipe's burst in my flat.

The whole place is flooded.

I'm sorry.
I really have to go.

I'm surprised
that your horoscope

wasn't able to predict
such an unfortunate calamité.

Has anyone ever told you
you're an annoying prick?

Yeah.
He gets that a lot.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I really have to go.

No problem.
A burst pipe waits for no man.

We'll show ourselves out.

Oh, God.

Please tell me
you're not about to urinate

on that man's computer server.

Don't be ridiculous, MacDuff.

Oh, no, silly me.

You've simply got a sledgehammer
down your pants.

Unlike our good friend
the astrologer,

I was able to predict that
his flat was to be the subject

of a most unfortunate
act of God.

Hello?

I'm from the water company.

That should do it.

Do what exactly?

Dirk, you're going to get us
arrested!

We are conducting
a scientific experiment

to categorically prove

that our client's horoscope

is not, in fact, predicting
the events in his life.

I think we're being followed.

Right, are we really
being followed,

or is it just someone going to
the same place at the same time?

- We're really being followed.
- How can you tell?

Because they're flashing
their lights at us.

Well, what do they want?

I have no intention of stopping
to find out.

Come on, you beautiful bitch!

Jesus!

- They're coming for us!
- Get down.

Back up.
Put it in reverse.

I can't.
It's disappeared.

What do you mean
it's disappeared?

- It was here earlier.
- Where is it now?

I don't know.

- Just let me do it.
- No!

- Find it!
- I'm trying!

Ah, Detective Inspector Gilks.

What a pleasant
and unexpected surprise.

It has come to my attention

that you may be withholding
a key piece of evidence...

There's not been
any withholding.

There's nothing withheld.

in relation to the murder
of a one Mr. Edwards.

May I ask what has led you

to draw
such an erroneous conclusion?

Well, it appears that
Mr. Edwards wrote a to-do list

shortly before he died.

Uh, look.

"Pick up dry cleaning,"

renew subscription to Playboy,

"send software prototype
to Dirk Gently."

Now, how is that for erroneous?

I see.

Well, as I've not received
any prototype,

I can only assume
it's languishing

in the black hole that passes
for my local sorting office.

Who are you working for, Gently?

I'm not at liberty to divulge
that information.

There is no greater bond
of trust

than that between a detective
and his client.

Arrest him.

I'm working for Mrs. Edwards!

- Ow!
- Really?

Mrs. Edwards?

As in the wife of Mr. Edwards?

Yeah, the very same.

That really is remarkable.

Thank you.

Considering that Mrs. Edwards
was killed in a car accident

in September of last year.

Mrs. Edwards as in the wife
of Mr. Edwards?

The very same.

Well, that is remarkable.

I put my hands up.

You've caught me out
in an outrageous lie.

There is no client.

I'm merely interested
in collecting the reward offered

for the apprehension
of Mr. Edwards' killer.

That's obviously another lie.

Well, I have no intention
of arresting you.

Very wise.

Your incompetent meddling

is more than likely
to get you killed.

And then I shall undoubtedly
have some new leads to pursue.

You are my tethered goat,
Gently.

Why did we assume
she was Mrs. Edwards?

Well, when I startle a woman
tidying her kitchen cupboards

by throwing a large concrete
flowerpot through her back door,

I feel it's safe to assume
she's the lady of the house.

She wasn't tidying
the cupboards.

She was searching them.

That's why she didn't know
where the tea was.

Then it is probably safe
to assume

she, in fact, works
for the Pentagon

and was looking
for the software prototype.

There is only one way
to be sure.

Mrs. Edwards?

Dirk Gently.

There has been
a significant breakthrough

in the investigation.

Perhaps we could meet.

We're probably going to end up
being waterboarded.

If they do torture us,
I'm going to talk.

And I'm going to tell them
this is all down to you.

Perhaps you'd like to cower
in the Princess

like a startled sparrow?

Mrs. Edwards.

I must say you look
remarkably well...

for a dead woman.

She... She...

She's dead.

She must have thought I was
being incredibly sarcastic.

- Where's the front door?
- What?

The front door!
We've got to get out of here.

I thought we were looking
for the killer.

No, we're running away
from the killer.

Are we chasing the killer,
or is the killer chasing us?

Why would we chase the killer?

We have to go to the police

and we have to tell them

that the woman
pretending to be Mrs. Edwards

has been murdered.

You think the police
will protect us?

You heard Gilks.
I'm his tethered goat.

I don't want to be
a tethered goat, Dirk.

Tethered goats die, horribly.

Well, we only appear to be
tethered,

when, in fact, the noose
has slipped from our necks

and we're about to spring
into action.

No, no, we go to the police.

We go to the police,
and we come clean.

We tell them everything.

We don't tell them
about you robbing Mr. Edwards

after he'd been murdered.

That bit
they don't need to know.

We're not going to the police,
are we?

No.
We're following that white car.

Of course
we're following that white car.

In an emergency,
follow a white car.

Why are we following
a white car?

Because it looks like
it knows where it's going.

Zen Navigation!

The goats are untethered
and traveling in some style!

So this Zen Navigation of yours
has led us to the pub?

I believe it will transpire

that this is exactly
where we needed to be.

I think the guy we followed
knows we're following him.

Then I imagine
he's rather paranoid.

Who are you calling?

Our astrology experiment
should have worked by now.

Ah, Mr. Reynolds.
Dirk Gently.

I was wondering if you'd care
to join myself and my assistant

for a drink.

What exactly
is this horoscope experiment

going to prove anyway?

If Mr. Reynolds walks
through that door,

as I expect him to do
at any moment,

wearing some extravagant
head gear

and talking of an encounter
with a rhinoceros,

then I will have proven

that the connections
between events are inevitable

and more often than not
accidental

and are in no way predetermined

by the movements of planets
billions of light-years away.

Mr. Reynolds,
how good of you to join us.

And I see you've brought
a friend.

Yeah.
It was my horoscope.

It said I would have
an encounter with a rhinoceros.

I was walking along the street.

Someone throws him
out of a window onto a skip.

I can assure you

that your horoscope predicted
no such thing.

Huh? Read it.
It says it right here.

I do not doubt what it says,
but that is not your horoscope,

on account of
the computer server

that sends out the horoscopes

having met
with a most unfortunate accident

earlier in the day.

What you have in your hand is
merely an e-mail that I sent you

purporting to be your horoscope.

If I had suggested you had an
encounter with a cast-iron bath

and you were strong enough,

you'd now be carrying that
around with you.

There was a cast-iron bath
in the skip.

There always is.

Your horoscope
was never coming true.

When you started to believe
it was,

it became
a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I found it in the back of
the taxi on the way here.

I can't even remember
when I started to believe

that my horoscope
was coming true.

What's happening to me?

Emma.
My marriage is over.

Your life is been restored
to its natural, chaotic state.

Jesus!

That's my invoice.

The more pressing question

is how this development
relates to Mr. Edwards' murder.

There's been an interesting
development, MacDuff.

Someone has sent me
another Valentine's Day card.

Well, if I'd known
it was this important,

I'd have got here a lot sooner.

The Valentine's Day card
was delivered by hand.

We will soon discover
who has been sending them.

This time, I've made certain

that your chair
would not sabotage me.

You've sawn the back
off my chair?

You cannot deny that it didn't
have it coming, MacDuff.

Why are you obsessing
over Valentine's Day cards

and stuffed fluffy pigs, Dirk?

Our lives are in danger.

I've already told you, MacDuff.

Since we are not, in fact,

in possession
of the computer software

that the murderer is seeking,

we are perfectly safe.

- MacDuff.
- What?

It's a memory stick.

I believe it's safe to assume

that it contains the prototype
of the software.

How can you be so sure?

It says so on the label.

So, if we are in possession
of what the murderer wants,

our lives really are in danger.

Absolutely.

Right, then we take this
to the police right now

and we find ourselves
a nice little old lady

who has lost her cat
or her dog or her husband.

Nonsense, MacDuff.

Things are becoming nicely
out of control.

I have to see Mr. Gently.

That crazy horoscope guy
is here to see you.

Then show him in.

You show him in!

I believe we have
already discussed

my inability to show someone in
when I am already in myself!

Could we please just pay
her wages?

If we pay her wages, MacDuff,

then she will no longer turn up
to work

in the futile hope that one day
we will pay her wages.

Do I have to think
of everything?

I'm going to die.

Well, that makes three of us.

Cup of tea?

"You are nearing
the end of an era."

"It will be a black day."

"You should realize
that life is precious."

"It's time to say goodbye
to the past."

Look, can't you see?
They're all the same.

They're all predicting
that I'm going to die.

Mr. Reynolds,

I believe I've already proven
beyond all doubt

that your horoscope
is not, in fact, coming true.

Do you still have
the rhinoceros?

What are you talking about?
What rhinoceros?

Are you saying you have
no memory of the rhinoceros,

or of our meeting in the pub
yesterday?

What meeting?

Interesting.

What is all this?

Is this supposed to make
any sense?

What is this obsession
with order?

There is too much order!

We must embrace the chaos.

Open your mind!

Embrace the chaos!
Embrace it!

I don't want to die!

Neither did Mr. Edwards.

You think you're going to die
because of your horoscope.

Mr. Edwards believed

the Pentagon
were trying to kill him.

Yes.
You see? Don't you see?

Death is random and unexpected
and very rarely predictable.

If it were,
we would all live a lot longer.

Yes, the Pentagon didn't murder
Mr. Edwards.

So, who was the woman
pretending to be his wife?

What about the bug in my chair?

Well, I have no doubt

the Pentagon wish to acquire
the software prototype

and spread tyranny
across the free world.

But what if Mr. Edwards
wasn't killed for the software?

There must something else,
something else.

These accounts are a mess.

Check bounced.
Mr. Edwards was broke.

I thought he was rich.

Mr. Edwards believed
he was rich.

Money, money, money.
See?

Someone was stealing from him.

What about me?

I would have thought that all
this makes it perfectly clear

that yours and Mr. Edwards'
cases are inextricably connected

by mistaken assumptions

about who or what
is trying to kill you.

So, who or what
is going to kill me?

I believe the answer
is to be found

by investigating the causes

of Mr. Edwards'
precarious financial situation.

Are you sure a piano
or something

isn't going to fall on me?

There is no sign
of falling pianos, tubas,

or any other
musical instruments.

At least, not today.

You will be perfectly safe
cocooned

within the Princess'
magnificent bosom.

I can smell Brie.

It makes a handy,
portable snack.

I find Brie to be among the
least controversial of cheeses.

You could smell my Brie?

Isn't that the guy
we followed to the pub?

Bit of a coincidence.

There are no such things
as coincidences, MacDuff.

Really?

Why is he parked
outside our office, then?

We're about to find out.

We must provoke a reaction.

What the hell are you doing?

I think you have your answer,
MacDuff.

He's come to kill us.

Oh, Jesus!
It's happening!

I can't escape it.

Chaos and randomness
have brought us to this place.

We're on the verge
of a breakthrough.

Dirk!

Nobody move.

- He's come for me.
- He's come for us!

Hand it over.

I'm sorry to interrupt.

- Who are you?
- He's Mr. Edwards' accountant.

Is he?
Are you?

Mr. Edwards' didn't know
he was being stolen from,

only his accountant
could keep that from him.

What do you mean he didn't know?

Mr. Edwards hired you to find
out who was stealing from him.

He was onto me.

- That's why I had to kill him.
- You killed him?

Mr. Edwards hired myself
and my partner

because he believed the Pentagon
had him under surveillance.

Oh, I see.

Now we've got a gun pointed
at us,

I'm your partner
all of a sudden.

Oh, there's no pleasing you,
is there, MacDuff?

- I think it's a bit rich...
- Shut up!

You were investigating me.

You followed me
from outside Mr. Edwards' house

after I killed that woman
who was snooping around.

She was working for you,
wasn't she?

We believe she was working
for the Pentagon.

We only followed you

because you looked like
you knew where you were going.

Yes. I hope
you'll no longer doubt

the value of Zen Navigation.

You cannot deny we ended up
exactly where we needed to be.

Oh, yeah. Oh, no. I think
it's worked out brilliantly.

Will you shut up?

Do you think I'm stupid?

You're lying.

Hand it over.

Perhaps it would help
if you were to tell us exactly

what it is you wish us
to hand over?

The evidence that I killed
Mr. Edwards.

I know you've got it.

I will shoot you.

He's going to kill us.

He's not interested in you!

I'll kill all of you.

If you are to die, it's only
as an innocent bystander.

Has someone been
eating cinnamon?

I had a cinnamon whirl
at the coffee shop.

You were following me!

How long have you had
this acute sense of smell?

I don't know.
I can't remember.

You've got three seconds.

One, two...

All right,
you're absolutely right.

It's all on here,
every incriminating detail.

Mr. Reynolds!
Mr. Reynolds!

Oliver.

Don't do it, Oliver!

Listen, listen,
we can help you, okay.

Just think of your wife.

She loves you.

I can't escape it.

I want to end my life
on my terms.

Oliver, you're not going to die.

You couldn't be more wrong,
MacDuff.

Your erratic behavior.
Your memory loss.

Your acute sense of smell.

These are all common symptoms
in someone with a brain tumor.

It explains everything.

You clearly have
a massive brain tumor.

So my horoscope was right.

I am going to die.

Yeah, probably, but not because
of your horoscope.

It'll be the huge,
tumorous growth

pressing on your frontal cortex
that'll kill you.

Do...

Aah!

It seems we will never learn

who sent me
those Valentine's Day cards.

Where's Oliver?
What happened?

Your husband is fine,
Miss Reynolds.

When I say fine, he has
a multitude of broken bones,

a fractured skull,
and a brain tumor.

Brain tumor?

I believe the tumor
is responsible

for his recent behavior.

The change in his mental state

caused him to believe that
his horoscope was coming true.

The extramarital affair

with the attractive woman
of Mediterranean origin

is just a symptom
of his condition.

Is he going to be all right?

After some rather complicated
brain surgery

and a good deal of time
in traction,

the doctor has assured me
he will be just fine.

Thank God.

Which just leaves the very
small matter of my invoice.

Does this invoice cover
charging myself and my husband

for investigating the same case?

To the untrained eye,

my methods may sometimes appear
somewhat tangential.

It seems we're going to
have to console ourselves

with collecting the reward

for apprehending
Mr. Edwards' killer.

I'm sorry.

They're not going to give us
the reward

when they realize

the only reason Mr. Edwards'
accountant murdered him

was because he hired you.

Ah, but if Mr. Edwards
hadn't hired me,

Mr. Reynolds' brain tumor
may never have been diagnosed,

resulting
in his untimely demise.

I'm merely part of the web

that interconnected
these two events.

We're still not getting paid
by anyone, though, are we?

You're forgetting
we are still in possession

of an extremely valuable
software prototype.

We're going to be rich, MacDuff!

The memory stick.

It was in my pocket.

Sorry.

I believe we are having
the sort of day

that would make even
Mother Teresa kick babies.

We will be requiring tea.

I'm going on an excessively long
lunch break.

Very good.

I forgot my bag.

I was just looking
for a pair of scissors.

MacDuff.

MacDuff. MacDuff.

At 0700 hours local time,

American tanks rolled
across the border into Mexico.

There's been
an interesting development.

overwhelming show of force,

the Mexican Army
surrendered en masse,

and by midday,

the American flag was flying
over Mexico City.

That is very fast,
even for the Pentagon.

surprisingly little protest
from the United Nations.

Even America's staunchest
critics have conceded

that the logic and reasoning
behind the invasion

appear irrefutable.