All language subtitles for Lovejoy - S02E03 - Bin Diving-eng

(Air horn)

You're in trouble, sunshine.

Don't come close to the vehicle.

Hey, how about this then, fellas,
a bin diver?

What's your brown paper, sonny?

I was just takin' the hat stand, that's all.

You mean thievin' it, don't you?

- It's not thieving, it's in the bin, it's rubbish.
- Rubbish? Are you collecting rubbish?

(Laughs) Hey, fill him up, fellas,
he can have all the rubbish he wants.

- Hey, now hold on a minute.
- No! You hold on a minute, sonny.

It's ours, not yours. You got that?

And what's more, the tottin' rights are ours.

Del's, Ray's, Steve's and yours truly,
Brian Nun's.

- Do I make myself clear?
- I, only...

We don't allow bin diving on our round.

Persistent offenders
usually end up in the fracture clinic.

Is that right, fellas?

(All) That's right, Brian.

All this crap... is ours.

From the porcelain to the parson's nose.

That's our bonus, sonny.

I'm surprised Lovejoy didn't tell you.

Lovejoy never tells me anything.
Oh, no!

Down to rummaging in bins now, is he, eh?

(Laughs) Go on, lad, get stuck in.

Hey, you never know, you might find a bit of
Wedgwood wrapped in a nappy liner, eh?

D'you give a discount for dust?

Now, this'd do me very nicely.

Ah, the King Charles II walnut chair.
Very interesting history, that chair.

Used to belong to Sir Christopher Wren,
the architect of St. Paul's Cathedral.

Legend has it,
when Queen Anne came round to visit him,

she used to sit in that very chair.

Remarkable, isn't it?

I thought the bottom fell out
of that particular market several years ago.

Hold on a minute.

You're trade
and I thought you were a punter.

Well...

I'm tradish.

Betty Morgan. Betty's Bygones.

All I'm trying to do is earn a crust, like you.

- Now...
- I want two grand for it.

Two grand?!

I'll give you 750 cash.

It's the best I can do.

You'd be better off selling fish and chips.
I bought it in for a grand two years ago.

Tell you what.

I think I might be able to manage a thousand.

Get out of here.

(Sighs)

It's the best offer you'll get all day, Lovejoy.

£1,000?
Please, Betty, leave the field to the pros.

I'm staying at the Plough
if you change your mind.

Fat... chance!

And what sort of time d'you call this?

I've been trashed by a crew of bin men.

They reckoned I was nicking their hat stand.

Accused me of bin diving.

Bin diving?

Now, there's an expression
to make you hold your breath.

Known amongst the dusters, sorry,
refuse collectors as scratching.

The art of fossicking around
in putrid, rotting garbage for treasure -

y'know, getting your hand
right down inside the goo,

in case you come up with a silver spoon
that got caught in the liner bin

along with the avocado skins.
"Oh, look, Granny's old whatnot."

God, it's ugly.
Never mind that, could be worth 500 quid.

But you gotta have the eye,
you gotta have the feel

and a stomach like a leather bucket.

We junk half our history every year.
We throw away millions.

But it's there, believe me. Ask any bin diver.

They filled this full of stinking crap
and then threatened to do me over.

What was the name of the bin man?

Uh, guy called Brian, built like a bear.

Ooh, I hope you haven't rubbed Brian
up the wrong way,

I've had some very nice pieces out of Brian.

I thought he wanted to make
some very nice pieces out of me.

(Laughs)

Eric... please.

Who was that woman?

That was Betty Morgan of Betty's Bygones.

Staying at the Plough.
Can't have much cash.

She offered me £1,000
for my Charles II walnut chair.

I mean, I ask you, Eric - pitiful, £1,000!

Oh!

Thank you, Brian.

OK.

No, it's a very nice piece, actually.

Mm?

Sight unseen?

I'd say one and a half.

Come on, Jack, this thing's a foot high.

Yeah, looks like the King of Sardinia,
still in his can.

What?

Got a hat stand, needs stripping, 25.

- 25? It's a freebie!
- Shh!

You're on, Jack.

One and a half. Right.

Right, you, on your bike, you're off.

Where, Lovejoy?

Dandy Jack's.
Collecting one and a half.

- Good morning, Lady Felsham.
- Morning, Lovejoy, morning, Eric.

- No, goodbye, Eric, he was just leaving.
- Oh, I see. Goodbye, Eric.

It's a dog's life. Fetch the stick, bury the bone,
fetch the stick, bury the bone.

(Barks)

Sit down, sit down.

Just a moment.

Now, tea, coffee, pint of gin?

No, thank you, Lovejoy.

To what do I owe this pleasure?

I've come to ask you a very big favor actually.

Don't tell me, you're leaving Alexander
and you want to move into my spare bedroom.

Well, that's pas de problème, madame. I know
I've got some clean sheets here somewhere.

- I'm afraid not, Lovejoy.
- No?

But it was very nice of you to offer.

You know, I can see me giving you
the same spiel when I'm 70.

We'll be too old then, Janey.

- No, we won't.
- No?

No.

The things I like about you
won't go away with age.

Oh!

All right, what's this favor then?

(Laughs)

A friend of mine's husband died
and I suspect she's been left a little short.

She asked me if I knew anyone
who might look over her house,

see if she'd anything
worth putting into auction.

- When do you want me to go?
- How about this evening?

Yeah, all right, I'll do it.

Perhaps you should go,
dressed appropriate for the occasion.

Lovejoy, what are you doing?!

These stockings once graced the legs
of Queen Victoria.

Made for and worn by the British monarch -

you know the fairy tale,
Cinderella And The Glass Slipper? -

well, this is my version, the black stocking.

I suspect you've got the wrong fairy tale,
Lovejoy,

I think these were worn by Widow Twanky.

Anyway,
I want you to go alone this evening.

It's embarrassing enough for her as it is,
having the valuers in the house.

You can pop in afterwards
for a drink if you like.

What's her address?

(Barks)

Oh!

You meatheads!

Never back out onto a main road -
I nearly went under that bloody thing!

Oh, it's the bin diver.
What're you puffin' about?

You almost killed me, you moron.

What a shame.

What you got there -
delivery for the Pasta Palace?

Oh... Oh, look, you've been at it again,
haven't you, eh?

Oh, a Hardy Perfect. Fifty quid.

No, that stuff's mine. I'm delivering it
to Dandy Jack. Gimme that back now.

- Oh, what's this? Ohh!
- No!

Oh, Staffordshire.

King of Sardinia. A Wellington.

That's Lovejoy's, it's worth 150 quid,
I'm taking it to Dandy Jack's - God's honor!

Like hell you are.

You've been scratching again, haven't you?

You know what we do with bin divers,
don't you?

Please, Brian, take the reel,
but the figure belongs to Lovejoy.

He'll sack me.
Well, he'll kill me if I don't deliver it.

Please, Brian, it's the truth.

We are talking three figures here,
aren't we, fellas?

- At least.
- Easy.

Do we stomp on his head or what?

- Yeah.
- No, I think he's got the message.

Look, this is highway robbery!

No, it ain't.

You ain't been inoculated
like what we have.

We've just saved you from catching
typhoid or the plague, that's all.

- You don't know where this stuff's been.
- Yes, I do, it's been at Lovejoy's.

(Laughs) Then we've saved him as well,
haven't we?

- Praise the Lord.
- (All laugh)

And shift that bike,
I'm coming back there in a minute.

(Thunder)

Oh, come in, Mr. Lovejoy.

I said to myself, "What is the point in keeping
a dinner service when I no longer entertain?"

Archie's in Canada, Pru's in Cape Town,
they don't want it.

You see, Mr. Lovejoy,
it was a wedding present, Crown Derby.

Well, it's a bit chipped
and there's a few pieces missing.

Well, it has been to India and back
three times. And East Africa.

Damn servants,
they break everything they touch.

No?

Not worth anything?

I'm afraid not.

Not doing very well, am I?

- May I offer you another sherry?
- Thank you.

Come on, Ben...

Let's get the nice Mr. Lovejoy another sherry.

Sit down, sit down.

Tell me, Mrs. Jaglom,
how much money are you trying to raise?

£10,000.

May I ask why?

Well, it's quite simple, Mr. Lovejoy.

I'm hard up, and the roof leaks like a colander.

Henry, that was my late husband,
was pig-headed.

Against the advice of his broker,
he ploughed his entire pension

into an overseas investment fund...
which didn't survive close scrutiny.

A bit like the Barlow Clowes affair.

Oh, yes, I remember that.

So, now I'm reduced to selling
all my goods and chattels to survive.

Why don't you just buy a smaller house?

We would if we could.

Wouldn't we, Ben?

Unfortunately, the house is owned
by the building society.

We remortgaged it.
Henry blew that away too.

When I die... it goes to them.

No, thank you.

You see, Mr. Lovejoy...

Drastic situations call for drastic solutions,
as Henry would say.

Tell me, honestly, Mr. Lovejoy,
you've got an eye for antiques -

what is the value of all this?

If you were to auction off
the entire contents of the house,

at a pinch, I'd say you'd raise...

- Raise?
...£10,000 and you'd have an empty house.

Follow me, Mr. Lovejoy.

Come on, Ben.

The light's on the left.

Now, where is it?

I know it's here somewhere.

Oh, allow me.

It was to be our nest egg.

Henry wouldn't insure it. He said
we couldn't afford to pay the premium.

And he said
he didn't trust insurance companies...

to keep their mouths shut.

That's why we've never been burgled.

Oh, yes! Mary, Countess Howe,
painted in 1763 by Gainsborough.

My word, Mr. Lovejoy,
you are an expert, aren't you?

Well, the original's
in the Kenwood Gallery in London.

What do you mean,
the original's in a gallery in London?

Well, it's a bit bigger than this.
This is a Victorian copy.

Oh, I'm sorry,
you didn't know that, did you?

- How much?
- Oh, that's irrelevant, Mrs. J!

I mean, as Keats said
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever,

"its loveliness increases,
it will never fade into nothingness."

It just has.

And you didn't answer my question.

This'll be as painful for me as it is for you.

Just tell me, please.

About £1,500.

(Sighs)

You knew, didn't you, Henry?

You stupid thoughtless old buffer,
you knew all along!

Well, all I've got to say to you, Henry, is...
I hope it's bloody hot down there.

I feel much better now.

Ohh!

How about another sherry, Mr. Lovejoy?

(Engine dies)

Oh, Miriam, you bitch!

You inconsiderate bitch!
This is all I bloody need!

(Thunder)

Lady Felsham!

Alexander!

Janey!

Alexander!

Lovejoy, what on earth's happened to you?!

I just popped by for that drink.

Well, she smashed it to pieces
and then attacked the sherry bottle.

I was tramping about for ages.

- It's a jungle out there, Jane.
- (Laughs)

Where is Alexander?

He's not here.
Gone to a conference in Harrogate.

Well, if you think I should leave, Janey...

Well, a friend dropping by for a drink
is no grounds for divorce.

I mean, we are both grown-up people.

Well, at least one of us is.

Let me get you a refill.

There we are.

(Sighs)

(Dog barking)

(Barking)

(Barks)

Who's that?

(Barking)

(Whining)

Who the devil's that?

(Barking)

(Barking)

(Whining)

Oh!

(Barking)

- Come on, Lovejoy!
- Huh!

Wakey, wakey! It's a brand-new day.

Room service.

Jane?

No, we did not!

You were out cold.

Are you sure?

I think I'd be the first to know about it,
don't you?

Not necessarily.

I've called the A.A.
They'll be by your car in half an hour.

Five star rating next year.

Lovejoy, there is just one other thing.

I'd appreciate it if you'd didn't mention
where you spent the night.

You know how close-knit communities
tend to embellish worthless trivia.

Oh, yes.

Whoops!

Well, I can see you're on the go as usual.

Detective Sergeant Bentley
and Detective Constable Hubbard. We're local.

Well, make yourselves at home.

Eric... you haven't offered them
any tea or biscuits.

We wanted this to be amicable.

So, who's stopping you?

Can you account for your movements between
10:30 last night and two this morning?

Why, I'm over 21?

Because, there's a certain Mrs. Jaglom,
whom you visited last night,

who got turned over
and whacked across the head, that's why.

I'm very sorry to hear that.
What's that got to do with me?

Well, you're dark curly hair and a dealer -
fit the description quite well actually.

For your information, the car broke down,
it was pouring with rain,

I had to leg it through the fields.

If you were legging it through the fields,

I'd say your clothing
would be decidedly manky by now.

Wouldn't you agree?

What I suggest is, Lovejoy, that you come down
to the station with us for a chat.

Are you arresting me or what?

Right now I think it falls into
the "or what" category, but you never can tell.

Eric, get my solicitor on the phone. Tell him
to come down the police station right away.

Right, Lovejoy.

I hate hospitals, Ben.

Never been in one in my life.

Anyway, I want to be around...
if those buggers come back again.

Oh, look, how many times
do we have to go over this?

Everything I've told you is the truth.

You've checked it all out.

OK, I did spend the night away from home
but I'm not prepared to tell you where.

It's as simple as that.

Now, my solicitor is outside
and you either book me or I walk out of here.

We've got a score card on you, Lovejoy.

So, what does that make me -
mass murderer, war criminal?

I'm not in the habit
of whacking old ladies over the head.

You've been bolted up before.
Next time it'll cost you.

Go on, on your bike.

Show him off the premises
and watch he doesn't nick anything.

(Sighs)

No, I don't know who did it but I'll find out.

Look, Lovejoy, why don't you just let me
go to the police and tell them?

Because... of the embellishment
of trivia factor, Lady Felsham.

- Oh, Lovejoy...
- Jane, let me do it my way.

(Sighs)

(Bell)

Lovejoy?

- Where are you, Lovejoy?
- In here.

Staffordshire figure or your life, you fat slug.

That was a real sleazy trick
you pulled on my man, Brian.

You should instruct your staff
about lines of demarcation, Lovejoy.

You know the rules about bin diving.

He's taking the bread out of our mouths.

You robbed me.
I could've had you nicked.

From what I hear,
you lot oughta stay well clear of the law.

There y'are.

Oh!

Count yourself lucky.

Who did it, Brian?

I thought you did. (Chuckles)

Well, Bentley's gotta get a result, right?
He's the new broom round here, see?

He used to be C.I.D. In the Met.

He's come up here
to make the local nick toe the line.

Too much of the old laissez-faire
according to him.

How about this, then?

Where did you get that from?

Scratching.

Wouldn't mind the shooters that go with it.

Neither would I. Purdeys.
Shame about the paint, though.

A bit of modern technology'll get rid of that.

We don't stock that here.

Then try turps.

How much?

- Fifty.
- I'm skint, twenty.

I wish I was a pound behind you. Make it forty.

Twenty-five.

See you.

And no more diving, right?

He can't even swim.

(Laughs)

How can you deal with people like that?

Salt of the earth is Brian.
This thing must be worth at least a hundred.

Hey, take a look at this.

That geezer's name's on it.

Well, well, well.

Discover something new every day, don't you?

I've already given the police a list
of what I think was stolen.

Snag is, stupid Henry's accumulated
so much junk,

it's really hard to tell what was taken.

But, did he have
a pair of Purdey shotguns, Freda?

He certainly had guns.

Henry shot anything that moved.

Caused trouble a couple of times in Kenya.

Shot some native bearers.

By mistake.

I think he bought them
just before we went to India.

Any idea what happened to them?

No. Hated the damn things.
Can't remember seeing them for years.

Probably lost them for all I know.

They will catch those buggers, won't they, Jane?

You can count on it.

(♪ Pop on car stereo)

Brian?

What d'you want, Lovejoy? I'm very busy.

- Where'd you get all this from?
- Twenty years on the dust.

It's not for sale, Lovejoy,
not one single piece.

You don't mind if I carry on, do you,
I'm at a very crucial stage with this recipe.

- What are you making?
- Poulet et morel a la Normande.

That's chicken, toadstools and cream
to the uninitiated.

I thought you were more of a pie and chip man.

- Never realized you were a chef.
- Me?! Cordon Bleu.

No, the wife's more of a pie and pint woman

but I like to give her a good meal
when she comes home from work.

She's a midwife, you know.

- I know.
- Oh.

Well, what can I do you for?

The gun case, I got a lead on it,
where'd you find it?

The tip. Spotted it when I was unloading.

- Was there anything else there?
- I dunno, there might have been.

Oh, bloody 'ell, I need some more cream.

Tell you the truth, I'd had enough
of wading through crap for one day.

I was doing an Alexander Dumas salad
that night,

so I didn't want to stink too much,
you know how it is.

Oh, I know how it is.

Could you show me where you found it?

Lovejoy, I'm going critical here!
The cream could curdle at any moment.

- We don't want that to happen, do we, Brian?
- No.

Would you, uh, like a cappuccino
while you're waiting?

- I would.
- Well, sit down there, I'll make you one.

How do you work in all this stink, Brian?

That's perfume, Lovejoy.

This place is a bed of roses. You wanna go
where they're tipping knacker's gear.

No, thank you very much!

It was up here anyway.

- What, here?
- Yeah. Over this.

- Brian, I can't go in all this crap.
- Go on, course you can.

Oh!

It's easy, innit, eh?

- Where do I go?
- Just over that way a bit.

Look out for that cat litter,
it's very tasty is that.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Where does...
Where does this stuff come from, Brian?

If you open some of them bin bags
and mooch around a bit,

you might find a couple of
old addressed labels and envelopes.

- Never thought of that.
- Yeah.

Mind that. Just... There's...

Oh, God!

What are these for?

They're... torturer's tongs.

- Get off.
- No, that's right.

- Aargh!
- What have we got here, then?

Well, I never.

How about that then, Malcolm?

Signs of recent occupation, I'd say.

Well, we're talking shooters here, Eric,
and that moves it up a few notches.

Now, you just take a deep breath,
think hard and tell us where you got it from.

I'm sure there's a very simple explanation.

Come on, Eric, get it off your chest.

I'm sure you'll feel better for it.

It came from the tip.

What crap!
You don't expect us to believe that, do you?

It's the truth.
We got it from a bin man for 25 quid.

- What bin man?
- Oh, well, I can't remember his name.

- You're lyin'!
- No, I'm not, I can't act that good.

Ohh!

I'm gonna count to three.

One...

...two-three.
- Ohh! Brian.

Brian, I can't remember his second name.
Nun. Brian Nun. Ah!

Surprising how there's a direct route
from the fingers to the brain, isn't it?

Ohh!

I phoned Purdeys in London.
Their records go back to the last century.

Major Jaglom did buy a pair of shotguns
from them in 1938.

I've got the number somewhere.

Then I'll just have to find them.

I shall resort to plan B.

Plan B?

That rubbish came from round
the Kiverton area, see?

Don't touch, Jane,
I know where they've been.

Plan B is the free antique valuation scam.

- Oh, you've lost me.
- It's the oldest trick in the business.

You poster up a town,
set up shop in the Women's Institute,

then offer the local punters
free valuation of their antiques.

Well, they're mostly skint,
so you skim the cream off the top.

That's dishonest.

No, it's not. They don't have to sell them
if they don't want.

You go back later with a better offer.

- What's plan A?
- Ah, plan A...

That is the short walk from here to there,
with the woman of my dreams.

Jane?

Jane!

Have you fellas got a boiler plate
between your ears or what?

I'm not puttin' me hand up for this one.

If you wanna nick the geezers
who did old Mrs. Jaglom,

you wanna get on your bikes down to Kiverton.

You know more than you're tellin',
don't you?

I'll tell you one thing.

I work with a crew of three fellas...

and their memories
ain't what they're cracked up to be.

You know what they do?

They sometimes forget to empty bins
on the rounds.

They go for weeks, months even,
without collecting from certain houses.

I don't know why.

It's always been a mystery to me.

You live in Wifford Street, don't you, Sarge?

(Church bells)

Actually, Dorothy, I couldn't care less
if we only get 30 quid for the damn clock.

It's been cluttering up the hall for months now
and I'm fed up tripping over the blasted thing.

My great-grandfather had it
at the Crimean War.

He warmed his feet on it at Balaclava.

Have you any idea how much it's worth?

A thousand pounds?

Fifteen's nearer the mark.

Fifteen thousand pounds?

Well, I never!

Would you like to buy it?

Fifteen pounds, madam, not fifteen thousand.

You're not up to much, are you?
You don't know what you're talking about.

Wasting my time!

Oh, Eric, this is purgatory.

Their idea of antique
is something made last year.

What have we got so far?

Three toffee hammers.

Hm!

(Man) Hi, there!
We hear you're valuing antiques.

(Lovejoy) That's right.

How about, uh, buying them?

Has been known.

Oh.

Is this yours?

Of course it's ours.

It's a rhino horn.

How much is it worth?

- Hard to say.
- What about 50 quid?

Fifty's a bit steep. What do you think, Eric?

You can't give this stuff away. I'd say 15.

Well, how about 20?

Well?

All right, 20.

Just a moment, just a moment,
proof of ownership.

But it's ours.

Sorry, not good enough. Where did you find it?

- Still 20, right?
- Still 20.

- We found it on a tip, actually.
- What tip?

Well, the municipal tip.

When head of house
confiscated the dirty mags,

he said he was gonna burn them

but we knew they'd end up in the bin,
didn't we, Richard?

Hoped we'd find them on the tip.

Drew a blank. Plenty of cat shit, though.
Came up with that instead.

Is that good enough for you?

Yeah, it's good enough.

Pleasure doing business with you...

"Lurvejoy".

(Car horn)

What's the rush, Lovejoy?
Trying to make it back before curfew?

No rush, Sergeant,

and between you and me, young Miriam here
has never reached 70 in her life.

Looks like somebody's been poaching.

Been far, have we?

Kiverton.

Kiverton, eh?

Says Nyasaland here, Lovejoy.

"Major Henry Jaglom, 1950."

Bought it from a couple of schoolboys for cash?

Lovejoy, cabbage-looking we may be,
but green we ain't.

This is on the list
and in my book, that's receiving.

It's not good any way you look at it, is it?

I didn't do it, I had nothing to do with it,
it was pure coincidence

and I want to see my solicitor.

We phoned. He's out of town.

All you've done is trot out your alibi number.

I think your alibi lives in Playboy land
if you ask me.

Nobody's asking you.

Then why don't you get your alleged lady friend
to stand up and be counted...

or does she make her living lying down?

Enough with the cheap insults, Sergeant.

(Sighs)

This is our think tank. You think about it.

(Heavy rock music on radio)

(Motorcycle approaches)

Oh, my God!

Lovejoy in?

No, he's not here, I'm only his partner.

Now, there's no need for any of that.
I've told you, he's not here.

How much?

How much for what?

I've got a pair of 'em, Purdeys, worth thousands.

Oh, well, that's not really our line.

No, I'd try the gun shop.

I'm trying Lovejoy.

A thousand for both of them.
Come on, I haven't got all day!

Look, we don't keep that sort of money
in the house. It would have to be tomorrow.

I'll phone at four o'clock.

Cash, no checks.

A thousand pounds.

A thousand pounds!

Ah, the Plough.

Betty Morgan, please.

Hi, Betty Morgan, Betty's Bygones?

Ah, it's Eric here.

Lovejoy's partner, of course.

I understand you want to buy the Charles II
walnut chair. £1,000, wasn't it?

You will?

Well, tonight seems as good a time as any.

Cash, no checks though, I'm afraid,
if that's all right with you.

Great. Well, see you then.

Yes!

Oh, he's sleeping like a baby.

What's the matter, don't you trust me?

With a rig like this? You must be joking.

Wake him up.

Wake up, Lovejoy.

Come on, shake a leg, it's not a hotel.

Ohh! What time is it?

- I'm not happy with any of this, Lovejoy.
- No?

We're bailing you
to reappear back here in two days' time.

Don't think about heading off to the sun,
will you?

Ohh.

Oh.

I'm determined to nick you, Lovejoy.

I admire people who are big on principles.

Lovejoy, where you been?
I've been phoning all over.

You didn't try cell three at the nick.
Where'd you get all that money?

Betty Morgan.
Sold her the chair, didn't I?

Just making sure she hasn't ripped us off.

How much did you get?

- Got a thousand pounds for it.
- Oh, a thousand pounds!

Yeah, all cash money!

You sold my Charles II walnut chair
for a thousand pounds?

- Yeah!
- I'm going to kill you, Eric.

Say goodbye,
cos I'm the past person you'll ever see alive.

Whatever I've done, Lovejoy, I'm sorry.

It's too late for sorry, Eric. But when you get
to the other side, tap on the table...

I only did it to buy the bloody guns!

Guns? What guns?

The pair of Purdeys.
He wants a thousand pounds for 'em.

I'll make a dealer out of him yet.

(Radio) When you look at what happens
with royals, how hard they work.

When they go along for an hour and a half
or two hours to something, you imagine...

On your bike, you skank.
You're banned.

What're you talking about?

Your man grassed me up over the gun case.

I got dragged in by the Old Bill.

I'm bailed to appear because of him.

Well, if it's any consolation, so am I.
What do you reckon we should do?

Go to Rio or nail this villain once and for all?

I'd like to nail your man
to the war memorial.

Hold onto your hammer for a while, Brian.

The maggot who did Mrs. Jaglom
has come out of the woodwork.

He's offered me a pair of Purdeys for a grand.

What's that gotta do with me?

Well, I might need some muscle when I meet
him, Brian, I don't know who I'm dealing with.

Take your moron with you.
It's what you pay him for, isn't it?

Not really.
Besides, he's locked in the kitchen.

There'll... be a drink in for you, Brian.

It better be a big 'un.

(Brian muttering in French)

Game's up, Lovejoy.

No, it isn't, he'll phone.

(Phone)

Lovejoy Antiques.

Get off the phone, you brick-brain.
No, he hasn't phoned yet.

Just Eric being his conscientious self.

(Phone)

Lovejoy Antiques.

That's right.

So I hear, a grand for the pair.
No, I've got the cash right here.

Where'd you wanna meet?
Do you wanna come up here?

The road leading to Blackwood Lodge,
the end of the lane.

Yeah, I know it.

Seven o'clock?

Yeah, I'll be there.

No checks.

No tricks.

That's it.

See you there.

- Got it?
- Yes, I've got it.

Well, where is it?

I'll show you mine, if you show me yours.

That good enough for you?

The loot.

Put 'em in the back seat.

(Laughs)

- Where the hell were you, Brian?
- Sorry about that, Lovejoy.

I suddenly remembered I needed a coconut
for me rochers Congolais.

Who have we got here?

Well, well, well, it's the toffs.

What will mater and pater say about this, hm?

(Brian) Up you come.

- No!
- Come on, there's a good boy. Up you go.

Get in there.

The best is still to come, boys.

- For God's sake, Lovejoy!
- Get back.

(Both shouting) Lovejoy! Lovejoy! Lovejoy!

Lovejoy! Lovejoy! Lovejoy!

Lovejoy!

Lovejoy! Lovejoy!

All right, lads, get it up.

Come on then, let's have a go.

- What're you doing, Brian?
- You'll like this bit, Lovejoy, it's great.

Are you ready? Drop it down then, go on.

(Laughter)

(Boys) Lovejoy!

Lovejoy!

- You all right, lads?
- Lovejoy! Lovejoy!

- This had better be good, Lovejoy.
- Oh, it's good, all right. Come on.

I want you to listen.

I want you to listen very carefully.

Alistair? Can you hear me, Alistair?

Yes, yes, I can.

Now, Alistair, was it you who broke into
Mrs. Jaglom's and whacked her over the head?

Yes, it was.

For God's sake, stop, Lovejoy,
we're suffocating in here.

Are you sure it was you, Alistair?

Of course it was us.
It was Richard's idea.

- He's her bloody nephew.
- You lying bastard!

You're the one who beat her over the head.

All I wanted was the Purdeys.

Good enough, Sergeant? Hit it, Brian.

You're extracting a confession under duress,
Lovejoy.

Oh, well, do it your way then.

(Alexander and Richard) What's he doing?

Oh, look, a couple of bin divers.

(All laugh)

My, oh, my, a falling out among thieves.

Selling at 1,500.

Colman, 26.

Lot 200, a matched pair of Purdey shotguns,
made in 1938,

together with the original brass-bound case.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,
who'll start me off at 15,000?

15,000 I'm bid.

15,000 I'm bid.

Sixteen.

Seventeen.

Twenty.

20,000 I'm bid.

22,000.

The bid's with you, sir, at 22,000.

Twenty-five.

Twenty-eight.

29,000.
The bidding's with you at 29,000, sir.

Do I hear any more?

Do I hear any more?

30,000.

At 30,000...

Any more at 30,000?

30,000 once...

Pincher, 88.

I should get whacked over the head
every week, Lovejoy.

Once is enough, Mrs. J.

Lot 201, a Charles II walnut chair.

Previously the property
of Sir Christopher Wren,

used by Queen Anne on her visits to him.
Fine condition.

Now, who'll start the bidding at 2,000?

- Come on, the sherry's on me.
- 2,000 I'm bid.

2,100.

2,300.

2,500.

2,700.

Two-nine. 2,900.

3,000.

How much?

Look, I know that look, Lovejoy.