All language subtitles for Lovejoy s01e04 Friends Romans Enemies.eng

Who'll start me at 100?
100 for a start.

100 I'm bid. 100 I'm bid.

Who'll give me 10, who'll make it 110?
I'm looking for 110.

110? 110 I'm bid. 110?

Who'll make it 20?
Come on, gentlemen, who'll make it 20?

120 I'm bid. It's with you, madam, at 120.

Do I hear 50? 150 anywhere?

Come on, gentlemen, that's a genuine antique.
They don't come up every day. 150?

150 I'm bid.

Come on, gentlemen, I'm looking for 350.

350 anywhere?

Don't lose it, madam,
don't lose it for another 50.

350 anywhere? 350 I'm bid.

At 350. Who'll make it four?
I'm looking for four.

Any more? At 350.

Are you all done? At 350? At 350...

Lovejoy

I know you're here, Lovejoy.
I can smell you.

I'm gonna have your arse, Lovejoy.

- What do you want, Gimbert?
- I want my rent, Lovejoy. My rent!

Mr. Gimbert's been up all night
in that casino in Great Yarmouth.

Drinking gin
and playing cards, haven't you?

You scored with the gin
but your luck ran out at the tables.

Why do you have to take out
all your pent-up aggression on me?

Because I despise you,
Lovejoy, always have.

You're a deceitful, irresponsible,
little turd who never pays his rent,

who cheated me out of that luscious porcelain
Ting bowl at that auction at Lavenham,

- and who deflowered my sister.
- That was six years ago.

- She was only 15 then.
- Not Amanda, the Ting bowl.

- How long do you bear grudges?
- Years and years.

I'll kill you one of these days, Lovejoy, I
can promise you that. Two sugars, no milk.

Sorry about the rent.

I've, uh... I've been a
bit strapped lately.

Tell me something new, Lovejoy.

I'll tell you what about the rent.

I still have a couple of tea chests
I haven't had a chance to comb through.

- Oh, no, don't ask me to scan them.
- I'm not asking, Lovejoy.

You will scan them. That lets
you off one week's rent.

The other seven, I
want by Friday.

Certainly.

In the antiques business, doing a scan
means going through a job lot of stuff and

sorting out the genuine article from the
shoddy crapology of the modern world.

I only do it when I'm broke.
Which is fairly often.

Well, at least it's a cut above being
on the knocker, as we say.

Translation: going round
banging on the doors,

asking the public
if they have anything old for sale.

A sure sign of impending failure in
the antique game. Did I say game?

Antiques is a lovely but
murderous business

filled with love, fear, greed,
death, loathing and ecstasy.

Well, I've owned up... and I'm the
only one you can trust in this game.

- Motor ready, Brian?
- I told you she was last week.

Running like a dream.

See, all I need... is the readies.

In order to have readies, I need
to work and to work I need wheels.

Ah, well. Catch 22 they
calls that, don't they?

Lovejoy?

Lovejoy?

- Not now, Eric.
- You're avoiding me, Lovejoy.

Yes, Eric, I'm avoiding you.

That's why you found me going down
the middle of Market Lane

taking advantage of the natural cover.

Well, I'm your trainee, aren't I?

Apart from heavy metal music,
you're a piteously ignorant of life

but what is most painful is that
you are completely ignorant of antiques.

- That's why you're teaching me.
- No.

I'm teaching you because your father asked me and
I was financially desperate enough to agree.

Well, I've read those books,
Wills on Victorian glass

and Baines on Brass instruments.

- And did they enlighten you?
- No, they were totally boring, really.

When you teach a beginner about antiques,

you start by seeing if he has a feeling
for craftsmanship, it's everything.

I've been teaching you a month, and you still
think Faberg� eggs are crusted chocolates.

Sorry, Eric, can't do it.

Well, if it's a question of money,
I'm sure my dad will pay extra.

- In advance?
- If you want, Lovejoy.

Mr. Lovejoy,
I'm your teacher, remember?

- These are the coins Mr. Bexon donated?
- Yes.

Roman Aureus, gold Claudius,
centurion engraving.

Donated by finder. Roman
province of the Isle of Man?

We get the oddest conditions appended
to our donations at times.

Of course we know that the Isle of Man
was never colonized by the Romans.

But the donor was insistent
that we adhere to the wording.

Well, perhaps you'd like to see
some of our local Roman antiquity.

Now, you will know, of course...

- Morning, Fred.
- Morning.

I didn't know you could type, Amanda.
Put you to work, has he?

I hate being called Amanda.
I'm bored with my name.

- It doesn't suit me.
- Oh, dear. When did this come on?

I've always hated it
and don't call me Mandy either.

- Or I'll kill you.
- Too late.

Your brother's already offered to do that.

Have you seen him?
He hasn't been back all night.

He's gone over to the Fens to shoot ducks.
Or youth hostelers.

Oh, that's nice, isn't it?

I offered to stand in for his sick secretary
and he buzzes off for a bit of sport.

Never mind, you can take me
for a nice long intimate lunch.

I'm sorry but I've got to collect some
stuff from a house at Stradbroke.

Charlie said the key would be here.

Ah, yes. The late Mr. Bexon's place.
I'll get it for you.

Ah, thank you Mr. Bigelow.

Perhaps you'd like to take Miss Gimbert
for a long intimate lunch.

- Is it valuable?
- Dutch, fake.

But look closely, the lenses.

They're whittled down spectacle lenses
from some flea market in Amsterdam.

Any optician will tell you how it's done.

- So it's not ivory then?
- Made in Taiwan.

They simulated the grain with a wax coating
pitted with a kitchen cheese shredder.

Diluted in phosphoric acid.

Thought as much.

Oh.

It's amazing.

It's amazing.

An old master, isn't it?

A not so old master, Eric,
but a masterful hand nonetheless.

J...

Bexon?

- That's the name of the bloke who died here.
- Right.

Suddenly, Mr. Bexon's become
a very interesting person.

Suppose this Bexon bloke
was a bit of a joker

- and put his name on an old picture.
- No, it's his painting.

Oh, hello, there, uh...
Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.

We tried the bell, it didn't seem to work.

Hi.

We saw your motorcycle outside.

Are you something to do with the auction
or the realtor?

No, we're just cleaning out
some rubbish, actually.

Rubbish? Looks kinda... tidy to me.

If you're thinking of bidding,
have a look around. Feel free.

- Oh, we're not buyers, we're family.
- Mr. Bexon's?

Yeah. Well, we call ourselves family.

But not his, his sister's.
He was our uncle.

I'm Edward and this is Nicole.

Our mother went to the States just after
the war, so we never knew our uncle.

Unfortunately he died just before
we'd scheduled a vacation here.

We thought we'd at least take a look
at the place where he lived.

We kind of figured there may be some
apparently meaningless things around

that might have some
sentimental attachments for us.

Photographs, mail.
You know that kind of thing, Mr...

Lovejoy. No, Mr., just Lovejoy. I doubt it.

I think he left everything
to his housekeepers.

Too bad. Still, you don't mind
if we take a look around?

By all means, just slam the door
when you leave.

OK.

Thanks... Lovejoy.

You're like putty you are, Lovejoy,
when you see a nice bit of skirt.

Nice bit of skirt?

That adorable creature
is the kind of woman men would die for.

Can't you adolescent, headbanging polytechnic
dropouts think of a woman you'd wanna die for?

Cyndi Lauper. Maybe.

- Good morning, Helen.
- Hello, darling.

A little early in the day, eh, Tinker?

I like a little early in the day. I
like a lot more later in the day.

Secret of your charm, Tink. Anything new?
Apart from the pink shirt with the cigar?

Spot of porcelain on the move.
Pinned it for you.

Thanks, you'll have to wait for the cash.

Part of the charm of being your barker,
Lovejoy, is waiting for the cash.

Thank you.

Listen, a fellow called
Bexon died recently.

Do you know where all the stuff went?

Yes, some coins went into auction
and some odds and sods.

I rather think that Gimbert and Dandy Jack
snatched most of it before it got to auction.

Nailed it down before the deceased
was cold in his box.

Typical Gimbert, not like Dandy Jack.

We're dealers, laddie, and as such
are capable of despicable deceits.

Of course we are.
What was I thinking of?

Besides, I can hardly imagine Bexon's place
yielding a cornucopia of antiquities,

manky little house off the Norwich Road.

Yielded this, done by the man himself.

What's that your holding close to your
chest, Lovejoy? Let Helen have a peep.

Now, not everyone gets a chance
to peek at my chest, darling.

I live in hope, sweetie, I live in hope.

She lives in hope.

It's rather lovely.

Show's over. That's all you get.

It's a fake.

Yes, but close to being brilliant.

That's why I wanna scan
the rest of the stuff.

- Find Dandy Jack.
- Chop the deal with me.

How could you even ask that?

Will you row me over the Bosphorous
to the palace of the Sultan?

Lovejoy?

- Hello, Janey.
- Oh, you look awful.

I had a rude awakening this morning.

Better after a shave.

- Where's the husband?
- Oh...

Bangkok or New zealand,
somewhere like that.

Oh, why don't we repair to the manor house
and regale ourselves with dry sherry?

You'll never make the upper classes,
Lovejoy, you're too much of a snob.

- This your latest job?
- Mm-hm.

Former railway station near Saxmundham.

- I'm designing the sitting room.
- Oh.

Used to be the ticket office.

Bet they're from Belgravia.
More money than sense, hm?

I'm happy to say.

Well, tell me about this painting.

Aha.

- It would fool most dealers.
- Aha, but why didn't it fool you?

The dress.

- Mm?
- The colour of the dress.

It's lemon yellow, modern colour.

About 1809, now Bexon the forger,
he must know that.

An expert like that
doesn't get an entire colour wrong.

He creates a superb bloody forgery
then he betrays it, why?

Indeed, why?

I don't know, there might be a reason.

Then again it might be a wonderful,
elegant joke.

I've never seen Lovejoy so excited
as when he saw that picture.

Almost fervent, he was.
Usually he's such a cynical old so and so.

Ah, but not about antiques.
Not genuine antiques.

You see, to Lovejoy and I,
antiques are a way of life.

Especially to Lovejoy,
he's a divvy, you know.

A what, divvy?

A divvy is anyone who knows the right
of a thing, without knowing why.

It's an instinct, a feeling, it springs
from "divining", as in water.

I think I'm a divvy.

Cos I can hear a record...
a new one, like...

and I can usually predict
if it's gonna be a hit.

- The Bexon inheritance.
- Dandy Jack loaned it you?

He charged me a tenner for it.
A tenner too much.

These appear to be diaries.
Nothing titillating, I'm afraid.

This is it?

There's a couple of caricatures,

I told him you'd be around there tomorrow
to look at 'em.

Rubbish.

Tinker's in no great
hurry for his tenner.

Lovejoy. Adore the suit.

It's part of that undertaker's job lot
I bought off you.

I expect that style's all the rage again
in Covent Garden,

one gets so out of touch
in our quiet little rural corner.

What's, um... What's going on?

Strangers in the night. Yobbos
pinched some gold coins.

Probably feeding them into slot machines
as we speak.

I wanna see those caricatures you kept.
Tomorrow, OK?

All right, petal. Bye for now.

Yeah.

Christ, what's with the suit?
Are you in court?

I suppose the jaundiced eye of the law
sees the worst in everyone.

- Goes with the job, boy.
- What happened?

What's it to you?

If I know what's been
stolen, I can recognize it.

When I'm offered it at a third
of the value by some shifty tea leaf.

Then I can report it to you.

Snap it up and flog it
in far off parts, more like.

How can you think such a thing?

It's one of the many reasons why
you're in our police computer, Lovejoy.

Vandals!

- What coins did they get, darling?
- Two gold Aureus.

"Donated by J. R. Bexon."

"Roman province of Isle of Man."

I was a useless runner at school.

Mind you, it does require tenacity,
stamina, courage and character.

All those qualities which
you so sadly lack.

- Did your mother tell you that?
- Probably.

- How is she?
- She's OK.

She's over the guitar lessons,
she's into ceramics now.

What about your stepfather,
what's his name?

He's making a mint.

What about you? Still terribly broke?

What are you talking about?
I pay these school fees, don't I?

And your skiing trip to Zermatt.

I do admit I have the occasional fiscal
crisis but I'm doing fine, Kate, really am.

Mummy says
you don't have a pot to piss in.

I had a superb pot. Porcelain Ting
bowl, Hubei province, circa 1050.

But your mum got that.

Can we, uh... sit down? I
got tired watching you.

- Hang on, I want to hear the result.
- You won.

It's a team event,
if you know what that means.

This year's overall
winner, with 137 points.

Second, Gainsborough, with 128 points.

And Hilliard third, with 110 points.

Thank you.

Well, Kate. You still
Interested in the Romans?

I like Italian waiters.

Seriously,
it was always your pet subject.

- So?
- So, um...

Did they ever colonize the Isle of Man?

I'm speaking of Claudius'
time, Suetonius.

Suetonius was governor
general in Nero's reign.

He spent most of his time chasing druids in
Anglesey while all the aggro went on...

- What aggro?

- You know, Boadicea and the Yceni.
- No, I don't know.

Boadicea whipped together
all these savage dykes.

Kate.

Savage warriors, then.

Anyhow, they went on the rampage
and blew the ninth legion away.

She crucified 70,000 people
and really went over the top

till old Suetonius turned up
a few months later.

From Anglesey?

Mm. I need another drink.

Suetonius was a long time getting back,
wasn't he?

It wasn't as if we were
ripping off his widow.

He left all to a housekeeper
who took off soon after he died.

Just saving the old dear
the bother, weren't we?

Oh, and you have a heart of gold, love!

And Gimbert snatched up
the Carolian yellow lady.

- I could have wept.
- I know how you must have felt.

- It was gorgeous.
- It was a fake.

Really?

Oh, splendid, I am pleased.

- As I suspect these are.
- Nonsense.

Genuine Victorian caricatures.

Burn Jones. Almost certainly.

Almost certainly, Burn Jones' style
but done by the remarkable Mr. Bexon.

Bulls, Lovejoy,
I've already had a sweet offer for this.

- Two Americans.
- Was one blonde and beautiful?

He wasn't exactly gross.

Why didn't you sell them?

Old Lord Rycroft likes
this sort of thing.

He might just up the ante.

Oh, Dandy, do me a favor.
Well, two actually.

Let me photocopy those, and stall
our American cousins for a couple of days.

Why on earth should I?

Because they're not Burn Jones, dear heart.

But only you and I know that.
For the moment.

Just the man I wanted to see.

Oh. You still in the area then?

Sure am, been trying to acquire
some of my uncle's effects.

- Yeah, I heard.
- Oh?

Dandy Jack said you've made him an offer.

Ah, the drawings, yeah.
I thought they were quite attractive.

Looks like I might have to raise
the bidding, though.

Ah, this other dealer, Dandy Jack?

He said you'd bought a chest
of my uncle's belongings from him.

- Just junk, I'm afraid.
- I'd like to be the judge of that.

I'm a pretty good judge of junk.

Said you paid ten pounds for it.
I'd like to buy the stuff.

For nostalgic reasons.

Give you twenty.

Clearly nostalgia ain't
what it used to be.

"I decided to leave them all in the urn."

"I can't face the publicity yet, all these
TV people doing their interviews,"

"they're such barbarians."

"I need to do more research."

Why would he write a diary,
then copy it out, word for word?

Almost like forging his own work.

They're clues. He'd do
that, he'd leave clues.

What do you mean? You never knew the man.

I know the nature of the man,
he'd leave riddles, he'd leave clues.

They're in those diaries, somewhere.

- Is this a clue?
- Mm?

Show me that. It's a work
sketch of Dandy Jack's drawing.

Janey, we're on to something.
I can smell it. Read on.

Does feel awful somehow,
reading people's private diaries.

No, Bexon wanted you to, he wanted
them to be read, especially by

somebody who is as curious and alert
and as completely broke as I am.

Good night, love.

Hello, who is it?

I wanted to speak
to your maniac brother.

- Why?
- Why?!

Because he's wrecked my home, that's why.
Would have had his bloody rent tomorrow.

If you'd just shut your face a minute,
I'm telling you, Charlie's not here.

I see.

Oh, I'm sorry, Mandy.

Still looking for family mementos, eh?

When a guy doesn't play fair
you have to take steps.

Like breaking and entering
here and at the museum.

Careful what you say, Lovejoy.

I wonder what the law would say about this.

There's nothing illegal about what an antique
dealer does in the privacy of his own home.

Of course not.

What were you gonna sign this?
Richard Wilson?

- I think I'll have you arrested.
- The hell you will.

Don't act the wise-ass with me.
I'm warning you.

You could just be stepping
out of your league.

You just stepped out of character.

Me and Nicole, we don't figure
that box of trash you sold me

was all you had of our uncle's stuff.

I don't like being threatened, Edward.

And I suggest you get the hell out of here
unless you want an ear lopped off.

And kindly put that old master
back where you found it.

- Morning, Charlie.
- Hang on.

Nineteen.

I've got one more to go.

I do this every day.

Why don't you put a pool in the cottage?
Then you can raise my rent.

Then you'd owe me even more
every bloody month.

- I brought your painting back.
- Oh.

You've been telling
everyone it's a forgery.

- It is.
- I've already had an offer.

Sight unseen.

- From our visiting American friends.
- That's right.

Bexon's family.

They're trying to collect his stuff
for sentimental reasons.

Thanks.

I'd knock the price down for that Nicole,
I'll tell you that.

What a darling.

What was Bexon's story? Did you know him?

No, not really.

Sold him the house a couple of years ago.

Retired engineer, I think.
Died unexpectedly.

Left the place to Betty Springer,
his housekeeper.

- Do you know her present address?
- Of course I do.

I'm handling the sale, aren't I?

- Well?
- Huh?

Oh, she went back to the Isle of Man.

Amanda!

I've told you before about swimming naked
when there are people here.

Knock it off, Charlie.
Lovejoy's seen me before.

Lovejoy?

Lovejoy?

- Hi!
- Hello.

I just wanted to apologize
for my brother's behavior.

Yeah, he seems to think
I kept some things of yours.

I can't I magine what
would be worth keeping.

- But Eddie's real uptight.
- So am I.

Mind you, it might have been different if you'd
been creeping around my bedroom last night.

I guess that would have been
more fun, too.

Why don't I buy you lunch?

Antiques are everything.

Nothing else exists.

When you hold an antique, you
reach back through centuries.

You touch the hand of genius.

- Do you understand what I'm saying?
- Mm.

When you hold an antique, you love it. Because
the love that made it shines through.

Right. That's why I'm a dealer.

I suppose that's why you and Edward
are dealers, too.

- Is that what you think?
- Mm.

I think you're a couple of normal,
healthy collectors,

ferreting around the English countryside
in search of coins.

Well, you do seem to posses
some sort of higher knowledge, Lovejoy.

Let's suppose you found
a couple of Roman coins

and then you saw the pair that Bexon
gave to the local museum

and thought they were from the same batch,

and being a naturally healthy
pair of collectors, you liberated them.

How am I doing so far?

Best movie I've seen in months.

And being coin dealers, there's
naturally more where they came from

and somewhere in Uncle Jimmy's things,
there might be pointers to their whereabouts.

- Spot of port?
- No, thanks.

If any of this were true,
where would that leave you?

In the hunt.

But not necessarily in the lead.

I think my nose is just in front.

Well then you should pick up
the lunch tab, don't you think?

Certainly.

Shit!

Ah! Quiche, trout, wine, port.
How nice.

I suppose you're hand in glove
with her and her brother now?

- I might reappraise my position.
- I'd talk to Dandy Jack first.

He's in the hospital.
Someone tried to kill him.

What?

The time is eight o'clock,
you're in tune with Radio 223.

This is your tribute hour
in the Breakfast Show.

For starters this morning,
Night For Day by Jimmy Nail.

Lovejoy?

How's Dandy Jack?
Did you see him last night?

He'll live, he's more upset
because his sketches were ripped off.

He lost the deal with Lord Rycroft.
Did you bring the cash?

Yeah, but my dad wants evidence of a
pronounced improvement in my endeavors.

He will have it, Eric. There's a book here.

Biographical memoirs of
extraordinary painters.

You read it before I get back.

Hang on, get back from where?

I'm going up north. Auction.

- That cash is for your rent, Lovejoy.
- I know it is.

Here, are you up to something?
I want in if you are.

Fair's fair.

Drink your coffee, Eric.

Readies, Brian.

Wonders will never cease.

- May I have an invoice?
- My pleasure, boy.

- Mr. Lovejoy?
- Mrs. Springer.

- Yes, how do you do?
- I was just admiring the view.

Please come in.

That's why Mr. Bexon
was always so reluctant to leave.

I can't say I blame him.

It quite shook me, your
phone call, Mr. Lovejoy.

It's been years since anybody mentioned
all that Roman stuff.

Mr. Bexon wrote it all up in a paper

and sent it to professors
at Oxford and Cambridge.

They just laughed at him.

He was a very shy person
and that wounded him deeply.

So after that,
he decided to keep it all to himself.

What did he tell them?

Mr. Bexon's theory was that,
while Boadicea was on the rampage,

the Roman governor Suetonius
had a kind of honeymoon here

with a favorite mistress.

While he was supposed to be in Anglesey
having a hard time with the Druids?

Politics never change.

He said he'd found evidence
of a small Roman presence.

The two coins he gave to the museum?

Yes, but he found a grave
of some kind as well,

this was before
I became his housekeeper.

There was an urn with ashes and coins
and an inscription with the name Ysbal.

It was Mr. Bexon's theory
that they'd been walking along the cliffs

and she fell and was killed.

And Suetonius buried her here and then went back
to the mainland to take it out on Boadicea.

I can imagine what the professors
thought of that.

Yes, they said he'd made it all up.

Well, he was a bit of a faker.
Not to say a joker.

Never malicious though.

Oh, it's become so wild and overgrown.

When I was a little girl,
this was like a train to fairyland.

Down there were pens with sea lions
and polar bears.

It all lit up at night.

What's that?

Oh, that was a cage they
built for the keepers.

Oh, to feed the bears.

I'll make some tea, Mr. Lovejoy.

Thank you.

- Can I help you?
- Mrs. Springer.

How nice to meet you.

Hello, Lovejoy.

Why don't you go and get some
fish and chips, Lovejoy?

If you find treasure or archaeological
stuff, you're surely not allowed to keep it.

No, you can't keep the actual stuff.

The coroner fixes a price with the assessor
and the finder gets the value.

You know, Lovejoy, that this treasure,
if there is such a thing,

wasn't ever intended for you.

It certainly wasn't intended
for Edward or the lovely Nicole.

Mrs. Springer said Bexon never
mentioned a family in the States.

It must have been them who got Dandy Jack.

Edward, Nicole was with me.

Oh yes, the little lunch �
deux in the wine bar.

Oh, please she means nothing.

That's not true, you said she was adorable
and you'd die for her.

Any other tasty titbits
you'd like to impart, motor mouth.

Yeah, Charlie Gimbert's
seen a solicitor about your rent,

and Brian's reported you to the police
for car theft.

Don't you want the haddock?

Be a three-way split now, eh? Fair's fair.

I suppose that's why you
did a runner on us.

No, I didn't. I just didn't want
you two sharing my problems.

Lovejoy!
Can you spare a moment?

Yes, m'lady.

The general plan, I take it, is to traipse round
all the landmarks in Bexon's dreary diary

and hope something pops up.

Do we have a choice?

I would have thought that the sketch of the
Lady Isabella was a much more significant clue.

Well, it probably is
if we knew where the hell it was.

It's a local landmark. And it's been
staring you in the face for two days.

There's no way anyone could hide anything
in or around that wheel.

Besides, most of the year
it must be crawling with tourists.

I wonder how long before Edward
and your adorable Nicole turn up?

I was thinking the very same thing.

Well, how? They didn't get the diaries.

No, but if they did get
the original sketches,

it won't take them long to find out
what Lady Isabella is.

We could be here for ages.

It's five to seven and this is
BBC Radio Four. Good morning...

You're up with the lark, Mr. Lovejoy.

Oh, or didn't you sleep?

I'm really terribly sorry about
the lack of heat, it must be the boiler.

That's all right, Mrs. Springer.

Mr. Bexon was always up at this hour.

And he wouldn't have his breakfast
until he'd had his walk.

Not even a hot drink.

Did he visit the seal pens a lot?

It was his favorite walk.

Lovejoy!

Hey, Lovejoy! How you making out?

Have you found it yet?

- You'd better start guessing right!
- What do you mean?

Guessing where it is.

Take your time.

I can wait.

When you guess right,
I'll come over and haul you up.

- And if I don't?
- You will.

You can have as many guesses as you like.

I'm not afraid of you, Edward.

Help!

Lovejoy?

You ever seen lead shot ricochet?

One shot in that cage and you'll be mashed
like a tomato in a blender.

Well, then you'll know sod all, won't you?

Knock it off!

Where you are is of consequence
of what you know,

what you got from the
old man's little books.

When you're dead, I'll come over there
and have access to both, right?

Maybe we can do a deal.

Whatever there is is
strictly for the two of us.

And what'll she end up with?

"The two of us"?

I do know.

And I'm not sharing it
with some frigid lizard like you!

You think I'm screwing around, huh?

Lovejoy?

Lovejoy?

Lovejoy?

I had to, he was gonna shoot you.

He was like a crazy thing.

- I didn't mean to, I was so afraid...
- It's all right, it's all right.

He was so obsessed by some fanciful idea.

It wasn't fanciful.
There is something, I know where it is.

- You do?
- Like a flash.

It's funny what fear can do to you. Pairs.
Bexon's clues were all in pairs.

Two Roman coins, two sketches,
two Isabella's, two diaries.

Listen, I want you to get back,
find my friends Eric and Jane.

Yes, I know where they are,
that's how we were able to follow you.

Well, wait with them, for me, OK?

Ysbal, original Isabella.

This is where we say goodbye.

- Oh, you wouldn't use that.
- I pushed Edward.

You were saving me.

I would have pushed him sooner or later.

This treasure buys a ticket to a lot of
things and he was never to be included.

- Don't suppose he was your brother.
- No, we were partners.

But he was weak and scared.

You wouldn't have known we'd got the drawings
if he'd finished off that gay dealer.

While we were having our cozy lunch.

- Lovejoy?
- Darling?

You know when you're in prison,
sewing mail bags and eating baked beans,

you'll look back fondly
on our cozy little lunch.

- Lovejoy.
- Yes, sweetheart?

Lovejoy, there's something
I have to get off my chest.

- Oh, I hope it's your sweater.
- No, I'm serious.

And I want you to be. And honest.

What is it?

When we turned over the coins
to the authorities, well...

frankly, there didn't
seem to be all that many.

- I suppose what I'm trying to say is...
- Did I take any?

Well, yes.

I'm taking the share of the value,
which we all are.

Which will pay my rent, my car, and I'll have a
little money left over as a cushion to live on.

That keeps me ahead of the game.
Nose in front.

That's all I ask from life,
I thought you'd understand that.

Sorry.

You're forgiven.

- Any messages?
- Lots of bills.

Lovejoy, are there some
coins in this pocket?

For a rainy day, Eric.

For a rainy day.

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