All language subtitles for Pie.in.the.Sky.S03E04.Doggetts.Coat.and.Badge.AMZN-Hi OFF

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God.
Did I really book this lot in?

...opening and slamming
all the doors

and talking
in different voices...

...these guys that
Charlie´s trying to cuff

that we´ve got 10 police cars
out there, see.

So, there he is,
running around the car,

slamming the doors, talking
in voices, woofing the while,

and he feels this big hand
on his shoulder.

And he turns around,
and it´s the...

Is everything all right,
Mr. Rider?

Food´s lovely.

Hey, miss?
Blondie!

Coo-ee!

Can we have some more wine
over here?

A bloke over there
died of thirst.

I´ll fetch him a coffin, then,
all right?

Oi!

I was tapping him
on the shoulder.

Well, that´s not his shoulder.

You´ll want to see
an optician, mate.

"Mrs. Crabbe."

You know,
like the popular seafood,

only with another "B"
and an "E."

C

No, no, no.

C-R-A-B-B-E.

Hold the line, caller.

Henderson, take this.

Now, if anybody sensible comes
on the line, ask for Margaret.

Don´t I know that tune?

Here, listen.

On second thought, put that down
and wash the pots.

"Eleven spotted dicks."

And one black coffee.

Happy?

No, delirious.

Cooking custard for coppers.
I was put on earth for it.

Ready?

Voilà!

We´ll be doing this
for each other one day.

That´ll be nice.

Bloody hell!

My bum is black and blue!

I´m sorry?

Those retired policemen.
They´re all dirty old men.

Well, they are.

I mean, they´re too handy.
What gets into men at that age?

Bottle and a half of wine and
a couple of large brandies each.

Ah.

-Happy retirement, Tommy.
-Yes.

Where´s Crabbe?

We want the chef!

When you´ve finished in here,
you should come

-into the kitchen.
-I´d love to.

We want the chef!

♫ ...so beautiful ♫

♫ Why was he born at all? ♫

You´ll get me
put out of business.

Tommy, congratulations.
Happy retirement.

Smashing lunch, chef.

Thank you very much, indeed.

Detective Chief Inspector
Doggett.

Henry Crabbe.
How do you do?

I-I thought I knew all of
our Detective Chief Inspectors.

I´m in the Met.

I´m down here in the sticks

with the Regional Crime Squad,
for my sins.

And you -- You´re providing
a service for the community.

That steak and kidney
was magnificent.

Thank you.

Lucky for some.

-That was delicious.
-Thank you.

Is he a regular?

Well, he´s one of our mainstays,
Mr. Rider.

Oh.

So he´s local?

Fairly.

I´m sorry about all that.

Oh, they´re just noisy.

Here. Try that.

Sir?

Uh, no, thank you.

Mm...

-New World.
-Yes.

Muscat liqueur.

Yes.

Yalumba.

-Well done.

Charles Rider.

How do you do?

It´s Fisher, isn´t it?

Henry´s boss?

Uh, yes.

Wine.
It´s my hobby.

You should come
and see my cellar sometime.

Yes, uh, perhaps.

They say you promised them
a discount

because you´re all "in the job."

-Rider.

Doggett. Detective
Chief Inspector Doggett.

Yes?

I know who you are.

Well, of course.
You just used my name.

No, no, no, no.
That´s not what I mean.

I mean...I know who you are.

Drive on, please.

Everything all right?

Perfect.

-Loved the lunch, Mr. Crabbe.
-Oh.

Be seeing you.

Right.

You ever think
of getting him checked out?

-Well, he´s a policeman.
-I meant Rider.

Gary, stick to cooking.

All right?

Push me away from here.

You never know
when one of these old imbeciles

is actually taking it all in.

"Rider," you say
he´s called now?

Yeah.

Has he got it?

Oh, he must have.

Mm, and you´re expecting
a result?

Yeah. He´s gone soft.
He´ll crack.

And if he doesn´t?

Well, I don´t know.

Well, we need
a fallback position.

That´s the first rule
of interrogation.

Number one,
avoid asking questions

to which you don´t know
the answer.

And number two, if you have to,

then make sure that you have
a fallback position.

But that´s the second rule.

I mean, you said
it was number one.

-Yes.

Oh, directories?

Give me the phone number
Her Majesty´s Prison, Talbot.

We´ll go and see Razor Reg.

Look at this.

Shopping from Sainsbury´s,

radios, TVs, community singing,
Desert Island Discs.

This is a ponce´s paradise.

I-I´ve been
in worse holiday camps.

It´s the new regime, gov.

-Fresh start.

Oh, I´ll give them
a fresh start.

Cut off their hands.

That´d stop their violent deeds.

No, there´s no need
for all this mollycoddling.

Cop an eyeful of this pillock.

Shh!
He´ll hear you.

Well, I should hope so.

Oi!
Wake up, cloth ears.

And get out of the way.

Otherwise, we´ll put you
on bread and water for a month.

What do you want?

Razor Reg.

Mr. Costigan does not respond
to that nomenclature anymore.

Mr. Costigan
isn´t expecting visitors.

Well, you tell the slag that
Striker of the Yard is here.

And unless he shows his face
within 10 seconds,

he´ll spend the rest
of his miserable life

in grisly Brisley.

Mr. Costigan says you´ve been
retired from the Yard

for 20 years
and have no power here.

He wishes to inform you
he is a reformed character

and does not wish
to mix with the likes of you.

Good day.

So he wouldn´t want to know

the whereabouts
of Joseph James Webb?

Could you open the shop,
please, Nicola?

Yeah.

Hello?
Um, is that Andover Plaza?

Yes? Could I speak
to Mrs. Margaret Crabbe, please?

She´s auditing there
with the accountants today.

They´re in
the Free Enterprise suite.

-Hold, please.

Mr. Crabbe?

-Hello, Charles.
-Henry.

Have you got a corkscrew?

Mm-hmm.

Oh.
Chateau Cheval Blanc, ´89.

A treat.

Bit early, isn´t it?

Just have a glass with me.

Sure.

What are we celebrating?

Not celebrating.
Talking.

-I have to talk to you, Henry.
-Right.

Well, let´s talk.

Henry.

And, uh...
Mr. Rider, isn´t it?

Can I help you?

Bloody Mary.

And will you be dining with us?

I´m not sure yet.

Nicola is always careful

to conform
to the terms of the license.

Good thing, too.

Huh. Can I have a glass
of your vin rouge, Mr. Rider?

Uh, give him a glass.

Telephone.

Not now, please.

It´s Mrs. Crabbe.

Oh. Excuse me.

Perhaps I will have
that Bloody Mary.

So...

Bow Street Runner.

Keep it.
As a reminder.

Of?

Of what I want from you.

What could you want from me?
We don´t know each other.

Rider...

I know who you are,

and I know what you are,
and I know what you´ve got.

And I want it.

I don´t know
what you´re talking about.

Now, I must go.
I have an appointment.

Does the name "Razor Reg"
mean anything to you?

Nothing.

Well, that´s funny, because
he distinctly remembered you...

when I spoke to him
this morning.

Well, how much longer
will you be?

Oh, Margaret!

Well!

Yes?

I want the boss.

Well, how do you know
I´m not the boss?

Don´t be stupid.

Mar-- Mar-- Margaret, you
just hang on one minute, please.

Yes?

You interested
in buying potatoes?

Are you joking?!

Well, you do buy potatoes?

Out.

What´s wrong with me?

Gary, the cleaver.

Mar--

Ooh!

Margaret, I --

I shall speak to you later.

One Bloody Mary.

I seem to have left my wallet
at home.

Put it on the slate for me.

We don´t normally do slates.

It´s all right, Nicola.

-Not mine.

Where´s Rider?

Had to rush off.

He didn´t give me
that impression.

Things change.

Since you came in,
Mr. Doggett, yes.

What is going on?

Sorry?

Why did you come back here?

I like it here.

Mr. Rider looked
as though he knew you.

All in the mind, Mr. Crabbe.

I never met the man before.

So, what are
the specials today, eh?

Detective Chief Inspector...

I do not like having
the mickey taken out of me.

I may be a country boy to you,

but I know when my leg is being
pulled, and I do not like it.

All right, Henry.

We´re friends.
I´ll tell you.

I´ve got a job on here,
just down the road.

-Exactly.

Anything I should know about?

Regional Crime Squad business.

Uh-huh.
And Rider?

Coincidence.

Like I said before...

-...I never met the man.

Can I order?

Yeah.
On your slate.

I´ve got to go out for an hour.
Can you manage without me?

Yeah, long as a coach
doesn´t pull up.

No, no. Just four diners
and one comedian.

I´ll get changed.

Uh, where´s Henderson?

Oh. Had to rush off.

I´ll bet he did.

Police?

I want to report
some potatoes missing.

This is serious.

This is --
This is a burglary.

Detective Inspector Crabbe.

Have you just logged on
to the Police National Computer?

Um...yes.

Can I ask the nature
of your inquiry, D.I. Crabbe?

Who is this, exactly?

Potatoes. We need the numbers
for the report.

The burglary report.

Oh, and your insurers
will want a copy.

What about
a Scenes of Crime officer?

-Fingerprints.

Fingerprints!

And footprints.

Oh, no.

We´ve walked all over them.

You can tell a lot
from footprints.

And the holes.

We´ll need the dimensions
of the holes.

Nicola? It´s me, Rider.

Oh, hello.

-No.

-I´ll get him to call you.

Well, actually, I just
wanted to ask him to supper.

We´ll have him!

Listen, I´ve got to go.

Bravo Golf on the London Road in
pursuit of a Jaguar motorcar

registration number
Hotel-286-Golf-Papa-Delta.

-Wound him up like a watch.

All we have to do is wait.

You hope.

-Gov.

If he don´t do
what we want him to do...

...will we really give
his address to Razor Reg?

I would crush Rider
as soon as I would swat a fly.

Is that a yes?

Oh, cold feet, eh?

You´d better hope
that Rider caves in.

Right.

Yeah, but you haven´t got time
for philosophy.

Arrangements need to be made.
In Finchley.

Excuse me, sir.

Bravo Golf, Bravo Golf,
awaiting information.

Let go of me!

Let go of me!
You´ve no right!

I have protection.
Ask Freddie Fisher!

You can´t arrest me!

-Ask Fisher!
-Shut up!

Received. Over.

He doesn´t smell of drink.

Let him go.

Are you serious?

-Dave, let him go.

Do you know someone
called Rider?

Why?

We have a bit of a problem
with him.

Does it have anything to do
with running a check on him?

How do you know that?

That´s what inspectors
are made of.

New Scotland Yard?
Commander Collins, please.

Hello, Bunny!

Henry Crabbe.
How are you?

Rider gave my name?

Well, there´s a note on the file
referring it back to you.

Why?!

Well, because
it´s a restricted file, sir.

They always quote a senior
officer in the local area.

There.

Now, in a minute,
that phone´s going to ring

and someone
from New Scotland Yard

is gonna ask to talk
to the person

who entered the name "Rider"
into the computer --

in this case, you, sir.

And that´s what happened
when Cambridge arrested Rider?

No, no, no. It´s what happened
to me yesterday

when I entered the name "Rider"
into my computer.

Some spook rang me.

You could have told me.

But I don´t --

Ah, give it a minute.
It´ll ring.

Well, this isn´t good enough.

I mean, say, this fellow is --
I don´t know --

some sort
of international terrorist.

He can´t go waving my name about
without my knowledge.

I´m gonna talk
to New Scotland Yard.

Uh, f-first, may I, um...

Oh, thank you.

Joseph James Webb.

Born 1st of the 7th, 1939.

That´s who Rider was
before he was "Rider."

Joseph James Webb.

It´s a bit sparse.

Well, perhaps
he hasn´t done very much.

One conviction?

Mm. Burglary. 1958.
Sloane Square.

He was arrested by
a Chief Superintendent Striker,

-Scotland Yard...

...and a Detective Constable
Doggett from Finchley.

Striker of the Yard.

That´s a big cop
for a little burglar.

Well, perhaps
he´s a lot more important

than this file indicates.

But why would a D.C.
from Finchley

arrest a burglar
in Sloane Square?

Oi!

"Oi" what?!

"´Oi´ what, sir."

Where´s the bloody
sports ground?

Sorry, sir.
What bloody sports ground?

The police sports ground
used to be here.

Oh, that.
They sold it for redevelopment.

They´re building
a housing estate on it.

If you want a game of rugby now,
you have to drive

-all the way to --
-Never mind rugby.

I don´t give a toss about rugby.

Where´s the pavilion?

Don´t know.

I think the contractors
burned it down.

What do you think Webb is?

MI5

-A double.

Leading a life undercover,

swanning in and out
of your restaurant.

-Drinking vintage wines.
-Hobnobbing with detectives.

Using my name.

´Course,
he could just be a grass.

Witness protection, all that.

Well, whatever, we need
to get to the bottom of this.

I´ll have to go
to the chief constable.

No, that won´t get
to the bottom of it, sir.

And they´re bound to say
that you lost the paperwork.

I mean, it´s so unfair.
Why choose me?

Because you´re
the assistant chief constable.

I never even heard of Rider

before I met him
in your kitchen.

Well, there´s always the
original officer in the case,

Striker.

Well, he´d be dead now, surely.

I´ve talked to pensions.

He´s 82 years old and living
in a nursing home in Middleton.

Well, come on, then.
We´ll go and have a talk to him.

I´m not having this.

No, you first.

I´m gonna lock this door.

You were wrong
about the phone call, you know.

Can´t win ´em all.

All right, now,
shake a leg, girl,

or you´ll miss the first race.

And what are you, a fireman?

I´m Assistant Chief Constable
Fisher.

That is
Detective Inspector Crabbe.

Well, I know nothing
of chief constables.

I was in the Met.

I´m a bit like
an assistant commissioner.

I doubt it.

What do you want?

Well, um, uh...how are you?

How am I?

I didn´t know we had
a star policeman so close by.

Oh, leave off.
I´m not gaga yet.

We want to talk to you
about Webb.

Webb who?

He was a burglar.

Never heard of him.

You nicked him in Sloane Square
in 1958.

1958?
Are you serious?

How do you know where I live?

It´s hardly a secret.

No.

And it´s only a question of time

before Razor Reg
has your address.

What?

What did you say?

He´s gonna cut you
into little pieces.

Chop. Chop.

Chop.

What does Doggett want
from Webb?

Doggett?

Doggett, yes,
he´s your D.C., your protégé.

He´s just been to see you.
The nurse said.

Oh, yeah.
Doggett.

Yeah, well, I-I-I´m old,
you know. My memory plays me up.

Yeah. Um, what exactly happened
in Sloane Square

that made you two so close?

Well, why don´t
you ask him yourself?

We will.

This man Webb.
What is he?

A spook, a grass,
master criminal?

Look, I´ve told you.
I don´t know any Webb.

I´m an old man,
and it´s time for my kip.

Thank you very much sir.

Ah.

Now, remind me.
Who was Doggett?

Well, according to the files,

he was the second officer
in the arrest of Webb in 1958.

-Well, he´s here, sir.

He´s on
the Regional Crime Squad.

Well, then,
I can just wheel him in

and order him
to spill the beans.

Well, I don´t know
about ordering, sir.

He´s, um, in the Met.

Uh...

haven´t you got a contact
at Scotland Yard?

Yes. Bunny Collins.
He´s a commander now.

He´s the one
who gave me Rider´s real name.

Think he could tell us
who Webb was spying for?

Or on.

But I think supergrass
is favorite, don´t you?

Yeah, yeah.

So, if he was grassing
on someone,

the question is, who?

Perhaps you should ask Bunny.

Yes, sir.

Hang on.

If your friend Bunny

knew this man Webb was in
some sort of protection scheme,

why didn´t he tell you
in the first place?

It´s my impression, sir,

that senior officers
are rarely so direct.

Hello?

Costigan.

Yes?

-I´m a...
-A policeman.

I want to talk to you
about Joseph James Webb.

Has Striker put you up to this?

No, just the opposite.

What about Webb?

Well, what was your relationship
with him?

I haven´t seen him
in over 30 years.

-But you do know him.
-He put me in here.

Oh, yes.

The "Tabard Street Torture"
trial.

But surely
that was Striker, wasn´t it?

I remember the headlines.

"East End reign of terror
smashed by Striker of the Yard."

Webb was Witness X.

Oh, was he?

So, if Doggett and Striker
want to threaten Webb,

they just have to mention
your name?

So they believe.

Is it true, then?

I wouldn´t harm a hair
on his head.

Why not?

I was a wretch,
but now I´m saved.

My religious beliefs
wouldn´t permit revenge

on that dirty
lowlife ratbag, Webb.

What about the rest of the gang?

I can´t be responsible for them.

Well, what would Striker and
Doggett want from Webb, then?

I can´t say.

The medical officer
prescribed this for my heart.

Care to join me in a glass?

Sure.

It´s very good.

No Margaret, still?

No.

Well, come in.

Thank you.

There´s some claret for you.

Oh, thank you.

And, um, here´s the Yalumba,

since you seemed to enjoy it
so much.

Henry, you´re very kind.

No need for introductions,
I´m sure.

Hardly.

No.

I´ll open these, shall I?

Ah, thanks.

Henry, the reason
I´ve asked you here

is because
I´m in a spot of bother.

I think you ought to know
that we´ve learned

you´re a supergrass and
that your real name is Webb.

And I´m entitled
to your protection.

Not against your own crimes
and misdemeanors, you´re not.

Now, where´s the stuff?

What stuff?

Ah, I knew we´d have to do this
the hard way.

How much would you say
that your cellar´s worth?

I don´t know.

£50,000, maybe.

Good.
We´ll start there.

Start what?

See, every time your name
is mentioned,

the word "wine" somehow
seems to float into view.

So I´m gonna go down
into your cellar

and start breaking bottles,

and I shall continue
breaking bottles

until you tell us whatever it is

that Doggett and Striker
want from you.

You wouldn´t.

-Oh, he would.

I haven´t seen a puddle
worth £50,000 before.

When I was a kid,
I was a burglar.

I screwed the Police
Sports Ground in Finchley.

Stole some wine.

Wine?

What, a lorry load?

-A bottle.

It´s special.

What is it?

Chateau Ausone.

Ah.

Chateau Ausone.

Is that good?

No, it´s not good.
It´s great.

It´s a truly great wine.

Well, there we are, then.
Hence the obsession.

Doggett doesn´t strike me
as a wine buff.

It was the last surviving bottle

of a case
William IV gave Robert Peel

to celebrate the foundation
of the Police Service.

Robert Peel´s wine.

That´s historic.
It´s fantastic.

Is it here?

The wine has a history.

It was looted
during the Napoleonic wars,

confiscated by the Duke
of Clarence, who became king.

He gave it to Peel.

Then it was stolen,

ransomed
by some early detective.

Eventually ended up
in Trenchard´s office.

Trenchard was commissioner
between the wars.

Really?

It was evacuated
during the Blitz,

got misdirected,
and ended up in an RAF mess.

Where it was "liberated"
by Striker.

A bottle of wine
of highly suspect ownership.

Striker presented it to
the Police Sports Association.

And you stole it from them?

Yeah.

So it was nicked to begin with.

Perhaps we should to take it
into safe custody.

Why did you take it?

I was put up to it by a bloke
whose gang I was in.

"Razor Reg" Costigan.

My God!

I´m sorry.

Is that...

I don´t think so.

Huh.
That´s the Robert Peel wine.

Chateau Ausone, 1814.

Well, now...
you have it, and they want it.

I think your best course
is simply to give it back.

Over my dead body.

Mm-hmm.

This would look very good
in the trophy cabinet.

Yeah, I´m sorry, sir.

I really think Mr. Rider
ought to hand it back.

You into older men, then?

So...this is it, then?

Yes.

You haven´t changed, with
all your airs and graces, Joe.

You´ve still got
the same mean face, Striker.

How´s your pal, Razor Reg?

Pssh.
Oh, we´re not pals.

You´re two sides of the same
coin. That´s what you are.

Thank you, Nicola.

So...

...is this your wine?

That´s my wine.

Is that the wine?

I expect so.

And you leave Rider alone
if he gives you this?

That is all we want.

Yes.

And will Razor Reg
get his address?

Not from us.

Is that agreeable, Mr. Rider?

Yes.

Good.

So, what are you
going to do with it?

Uh, well,
there´s a slight hitch there.

Hitch?

Well, the sports ground --
where you nicked it from --

has been demolished.

It´s not funny.
That´s our heritage.

Oh, come off it.

Well, since it doesn´t appear
to have a legal owner

and it is Robert Peel´s wine,

I think,
as senior officer present,

I should take it
into protective custody.

You won´t!

Not you, as well.

Maybe Rider should have
this back, after all.

-Oh!
-No chance.

All right, then,
I´ll tell you what.

Henry!

Oi! Uh...

Let´s drink it.

Crabbe...

Have you gone nuts?

This label says
Chateau Ausone, 1814.

So what?

In Robert Peel´s day,
wine bottles were all handmade.

This is a machine-made
20th-century bottle.

This, gentlemen, is a fake.

So...

Here we are,
a roomful of detectives.

And the question is,
what happened to the original?

Now, then, Doggett.
Did you break it?

Me?

When would I
have ever had chance to --

No, perhaps not.
Mr. Rider?

I kept it in a safe
for 35 years.

Yes, and we all saw
how shocked you were

when you thought
the bottle was broken.

So, who does that leave?
Robert Peel?

It would still be a 19th-century
bottle if he broke it.

Mm.

Striker, what about you?

What about me?

Well, you would have been in
the best place to swap it.

Maybe the bottle
never even existed.

Maybe you just turned up
with any old bottle of wine

and claimed it
was Chateau Ausone, 1814.

This isn´t
just any old bottle of wine.

Well?

I had the original bottle
of wine, but, um...

...I dropped it.

You what?

I dropped my kit bag on Waterloo
Station when I was demobbed.

The wine was in it.

You what?

You mean
I-I´ve been chasing this Herbert

for close to 30 years
over a bent bottle of wine

that was so bent that it wasn´t
even what it said on the label?

What´s the matter with you?

When he nicked it,
I could hardly say,

"Oh, no, never mind,
it´s only a fake," could I?

Good Lord.
What wine is this?

Oh, my father gave it to me.

It´s, uh...He got it
from a bombed-out house.

Try to remember.

M--
Scottish name.

Montrose?

Yes.

Yes.

Prewar Chateau Montrose.

I can hardly believe
I have it in my hand.

What was the year?

´34.

One of the great years

of one of the great wines
of the 20th century.

Mmm.

Hello, Mr. Quirke.

Hello.

-Yes.

I asked him to show me
where the boundary is.

-There.
-There.

Yes, well,
would you both please stand

where you reckon your land ends?

This tree stump to there.

You can see.
He planted on my land.

From this tree stump to there.
He dug up my spuds.

I dug up potatoes from my field.

My field!

And he called the cops.

Only after you
tried to sell my spuds,

-coming to my restaurant.

-Well, his restaurant.
-My restaurant.

The restaurant
where I supply the spuds!

You were trying
to intimidate me.

Yes, well,
what you need is a fence.

We had one.
He took it down.

It´s my land!

All right!
All right!

Look! Look.
This is what to do.

The crop that grows
between there and there,

the pair of you
will split 50/50.

Then in the autumn,
you will put the fence back.

-That´s not fair.

I planted the crop!
He gets it for free!

But he has to put
the fence back!

-Yeah.

And no more silliness
in my kitchen.

No.

Well, let that be an end of it.

I´ll be off, then.

Oh...

and by the way

Does the name "Razor Reg"
mean anything to you?

What?
"Razor Reg" Costigan?

Yes.

-That´s him.

Yeah.
Terrible business.

-Yes.

He gets out
in about four weeks...

and he owes me a favor.

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