All language subtitles for Highlander s06e07 pects.eng

Give her a polish, Pierre.

Put her to bed.

Sure.

Ah.

Welcome. Welcome...

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

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

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

Just enjoy it.

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

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

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

my beloved partner,
Percy Tynebridge--

Cloak, Ernest.

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

Last but not least,

this many-sceptered isle's
only honest accountant,

Simon Loxley.

And may I introduce a
special guest for tonight.

Joining us on vocals,
the apple of my orchard,

the fire of my heart,

the woman who makes
it all worthwhile,

my beautiful
wife, Juliette.

Lipstick. Lipstick.

Oh, you're so naughty.

Right. Two, three, four.

Fiddle dee dee
Fiddle dee dee

The fly has married
the bumblebee

Says the fly says
he Will you marry me

And live with me
sweet bumblebee

Fiddle dee dee
Fiddle dee dee

The fly has married
the bumblebee

Fitz!

Fitz! Juliette!

Good God.

- He's dead.

the Highlander.

Born in 1592, in the
Highlands of Scotland,

and he is still alive.

He is immortal.

For 400 years,
he's been a warrior,

a lover,

a wanderer,

constantly facing other
Immortals in combat to the death.

The winner takes
his enemy's head...

and with it, his power.

I am a Watcher,

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

who observe and record,
but never interfere.

We know the truth
about Immortals.

In the end, there
can be only one.

May it be Duncan
MacLeod, the Highlander.

Here we are

Born to be kings

We're the princes
of the universe

I am immortal

I have inside
me blood of kings

I have no rival

No man can be my equal

Take me to the
future of your world

The heart is everything.

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

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

It gives me some
comfort to know...

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

was my special
love song for him.

It was a song that
brought him great joy,

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

Fiddle dee dee
Fiddle dee dee

The fly has married
the bumblebee

Says the fly says he

Will you marry me
and live with me

Sweet bumblebee

It meant so much to him.

A dozen lilies?
Too gauche?

Not for you.

Have a little respect
for the dead, laddie.

Oh, it was a
lovely funeral.

Yes. Half a
dozen people...

for a man of my
stature, my standing.

You're a
personality, Fitz.

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

and it's made you
a complete jackass.

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

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

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

I wouldn't put
it past you.

True. Yes. I might
have enjoyed it,

had I not been murdered.

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

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

And Immortals do not
die of heart attacks.

Unless they're
induced heart attacks.

Exactly. And the timing
could not have been worse!

Everything I own has been
funneled into American stocks.

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

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

Yes. Details, details.

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

- Ipso facto.
- You're broke!

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

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

What do you want
me to do about it?

Find the person
that murdered me.

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

No, Mac. Mac.

It's much more. Oh, is it?

Duncan.

Are you all right?

Oh, I just needed a
moment with my thoughts.

Fitz used to love to
spend time in here.

If you close your eyes,

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

I know what you mean.

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

Juliette.

Just a little token
of my affection.

Thank you,
Duncan. Thank you.

God, she's beautiful.

For a grieving widow. Yes.

Taut muscles, passion
simmering below the surface...

like a volcano
about to erupt.

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

And you're dead.

You wouldn't.

Oh, no, no.

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

What?

I fear for her safety.

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

She dies, the money
goes to my partners.

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

take her to
America with me.

We really love
each other, Mac.

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

and you've got
to find him fast.

Otherwise the next funeral
you go to will be hers.

And it will be
on your head.

Oh, no, you don't.

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

Everything concerning
his legal matters.

Apparently not, Norbert.

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

And what are
you suggesting?

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

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

Exactly.

Precisely.

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

Be serious! We
are busy men.

Apparently.

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

This is ridiculous.

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

Can I get a lift
back to city with you?

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

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

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

it makes you four the primary
beneficiaries of the will.

But a codicil
states that...

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

Well, perhaps I've
overreacted. Quite right.

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

Extraordinary.
How lifelike.

The eyes seem to follow
you everywhere you go.

Amazing paintings.

The artist's genius
actually pains me.

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

Loxley.

What the devil did
you do that for?

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

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

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

how long before one of
them wants to kill me?

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

Duncan?

Duncan? Mm.

Did I hear you
talking to someone?

Uh, no, just myself.

I could have sworn I
heard Fitzy's voice.

Oh. I sometimes think
I hear it myself.

We must be
imagining things.

It comes from our grief.

If only I knew what
was in the will,

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

I'm sorry. I
wish I could help.

My heart is broken.

Can you feel it, Duncan?

Uh, it doesn't
feel broken.

That noise. What noise?

I didn't hear a voice?

It must have been
me. Oh. Right.

You were going to
tell me about the will.

Uh, no, I wasn't.

Is there something
wrong with it?

The will? The breast.

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

Fine?

Fitzy said that they
were extraordinary.

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

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

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

Really.

"Fine"? Mm.

"Fine" is a
well-kept motorcar,

a good wine, decent china.

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

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

Yes, I certainly was.

What's that?
No. Fitzcairn.

Listen. I've got it.

It's definitely Drimble.

He dragged his feet drawing
up the papers I needed.

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

He's no more suspicious
than anybody else.

And nothing points
to him. Exactly.

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

Yes. You have got to
rearrange the grouse shoot.

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

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

Oh, yeah, that
is brilliant.

You'll need this.

I don't think this
weather will hold.

I feel a storm coming.

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

Me? No. You know
I deplore guns.

Damn.

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

He's been shot.

He's dead.

Are you suggesting that
one of us is a murderer?

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

Oh! Then was my poor
Fitzy murdered too?

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

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

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

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

and fetch the local
constabulary. Oh, yes.

Oh. That's what I
thought you meant.

Maybe not.

Dinner will be served
in half an hour.

Dinner will be served
in half an hour.

Roast grouse.

Poor Fitzy.

Grouse was his
favorite, you know.

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

How I miss that...

silly, sweet little man.

Hmm. Would you excuse
me for a moment?

Where are you
going, Duncan?

I'm going to see
about the port.

Hello.

Oh, nasty weather.

Marie, right?

Can I call you Marie? Yes.

the look that you gave
Juliette. What look?

You can talk to me.

Please, monsieur, it
would get me fired.

Fitzcairn was my
closest friend.

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

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

Oh, it's that
kind of confidence.

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

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

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

Because I'm
carrying his child.

We were more
than just lovers.

Are you sure it's
Fitzcairn's child?

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

Oh, no, I was
just suggesting--

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

It's just that, uh,

Fitzcairn never talked
to me about a family.

You think what? The
butcher? The baker?

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

The chauffeur? No.

Mr. Tynebridge?

But only once.

Only once. Tynebridge.

You make me
sick-- all of you.

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

I just have
one-- Get out.

Okay.

Mon dieu. A ghost.

Are you all right?

Did you see that?

See what?

N-Nothing. I saw
absolutely nothing.

Psst.

Psst.

Psst. Over here.

Did you see
Marie? Oh, yeah.

Did she see anything,
say anything?

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

Really?

Is she sure? Oh, quite.

Oh! Now that's news
worth dying for.

Just imagine it, Mac,

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

Yeah. Watching them
take their first steps.

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

Immortals can't have kids.

The slut!

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

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

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

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

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

Look, enough of
these trivialities.

We have got to come up
with some hard facts.

Yeah, well, try
this one on for size.

- Drimble is dead.
- Dead?

- Yeah.
- So I was wrong about him.

We can safely cross him
off our list of suspects.

So it must
have been Marie.

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

Yes. Well.

Yes, that was definitely the
old Fitzcairn charm working.

Wait. I haven't
finished yet.

Oh, yes, you
have. No, Mac.

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

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

Ooh. My nose.

Of course.

Of course.

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

I know how Fitz died.

Actually, he was poisoned.

How do you know?

A little rat told me.

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

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

Get into the backcountry
at all? So what?

Come across any poisons?

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

Something like curare.

We came across a small tribe
of South American Indians.

They put it on their blow
darts to shoot monkeys.

- Shoot monkeys?

Why on earth would anybody
want to shoot monkeys?

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

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

Be careful, MacLeod.
Be very careful.

You ate monkeys?

Not me. Him.

Damn you, Loxley.
Preposterous.

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

I found him in the garage,
bludgeoned to death.

He was lying by the car.

Who? Pierre.

God, how I loved him.

My life is over.

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

Just-- I don't
believe this.

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

Not on a night like this.

Monkeys.

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

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

Unless you want
them going off.

A meat locker?

It's getting decidedly
packed in here.

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

Bludgeoning his skull.
Breaking his ribs.

How did you know
his ribs were broken?

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

Stop staring
at me like that.

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

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

Oh. It's getting
cold in here.

I'm not hungry anymore.

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

We should all go to bed.

That is, make sure
your doors are locked.

It is only my heart...

beating.

Take me now.

Take me.

Hardly cold in my grave.

Both shot monkeys.

Marie had the butler,
the baker, the chauffeur.

Oh, no.

What are you
doing? I knew it.

So damn obvious. I
almost feel embarrassed.

Stay there.

Oh. What was
that awful noise?

I don't know. More rats?

Oh, definitely.

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

Sounds like an
excellent idea.

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

Okay. Good night,
uh, Juliette.

Good night,
Duncan. Good night.

Right in front of my eyes.

I never did trust that swine
of an accountant Loxley.

Ouch! That's my arm.

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

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

MacLeod, you've
got to do something.

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

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

Mac. Mac. My finger.

The will is going
to be read tomorrow,

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

because you can't
come up with a suspect.

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

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

Oh, my hand.

That's ridiculous. No.

No, no. She
loves me, laddie.

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

No. Juliette
is no murderer.

She killed you.

You're wrong.

Not to mention the
butler and Drimble.

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

Really. Stay here.

You're making a habit...

of stating the
obvious, MacLeod.

What are you doing
in his room? Nothing.

I'm not doing anything.

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

that the door to
his room was open.

I think you're
lying. MacLeod.

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

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

Thank you. Not
to mention...

I think you killed Loxley
and you killed Fitz.

Would you stop
that screeching? Me?

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

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

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

Us? He's not accusing me.

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

Big, hairy brute.

Unhand me. I'm innocent.

Funny, she doesn't
look like a murderer.

Yes, well, they never do.

Fitz?

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

but you gotta
trust me on this.

Look, if I'm wrong,

I'll apologize
to you and her.

Fitz, she knows
what I think.

It's the only way
to force her hand.

What are you doing?

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

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

And about time, my dear.

About time.

It's disgusting.

Bloody disgusting.

I'm shocked.
Absolutely shocked.

Poor Fitz.

The most wonderful
of men suddenly dies,

obviously by foul means,

and I am not
even notified.

I-- Or
is it me?

It's definitely you.

Excuse me, sir, but
just who are you?

I am Hugh
Fitzcairn, Senior.

Father of Hugh
Fitzcairn, Junior...

and sole heir
to his estate.

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

I can assure
all of you--

both
of you--

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

in a matter of such extreme
importance to my son.

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

It's bloody disgusting!

Well.

What the devil's
going on here?

Oh, no. Not this.

Not this.

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

Are you sure?

My God.

She's dead.

I do not believe it!

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

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

You're sorry? My
beloved Juliette is dead,

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

I know how much
she meant to you.

Oh, no, you don't.

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

But I loved her,
Mac. Trysts and all.

And you couldn't believe
that when it mattered.

Fitz,
I--

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

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

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

Now there's only one
bloody suspect left!

Even you couldn't
screw that up.

Where do you
think you're going?

As far away from this
lunatic asylum as possible.

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

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

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

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

How dare you accuse me.

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

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

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

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

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

We'll see about that.

He isn't going to need it.

I won't go
quietly, MacLeod.

Not like the others!

MacLeod, let me go.

You murderous bastard!

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

You bloodthirsty
maniac. Help. Help. Help!

I'll be right back.

Hello?

Can I have the North
Tidworth Police, please?

One moment.

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

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

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

Fine. Thank you. Right.

Well, Tynebridge, the
Yard is on its way.

Tynebridge.

Looking for me, Duncan?

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

Why is it the cute
ones are always so slow?

Of course.

Brazil. You found another
poison like curare--

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

I'm impressed.

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

Anyone but a doctor
would be fooled.

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

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

I'm afraid...

you know too much.

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

Next life, sweetheart.

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

It was a mistake for
you to come down here.

Fancy killing Fitz,
your husband, for money.

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

with every fiber
of his-- Oh, please.

He loved every woman
this side of the Thames.

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

Now, say good-bye.

Aren't you, uh,
forgetting something?

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

Detective, Detective.

Ever since my dear
departed's heart attack,

everything
just went crazy.

Drimble shot himself
in a hunting accident.

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

in a jealous rage
over the maid.

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

- How am I doing?
- Surprisingly well.

And MacLeod. Oh.

He always had
designs on me.

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

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

What do you think?

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

Harlot!

Whore.

So much for his
side of the family.

But--
Blanks.

It's impossible.
It's not fair.

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

I could use someone
to share it with.

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

Slut.

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

Oh, please.

Oh, Duncan. Oh,
have a heart.

I'm a free woman now. Mm.

And terribly rich. You
could have anything.

Here you go, boys.
Anything, Duncan.

Careful. She's a
tricky one. Duncan.

Duncan. Oh, stop. Come on.

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

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

And live with me
You seamy ingrate!

Fiddle dee dee
Fiddle dee dee

She screams a lot too.

The bumblebee

Fitz! My husband!

Fitz! What are
you doing there?

No! No! It can't be!

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

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

Fiddle dee dee
Fiddle dee dee

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

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

Yes. Good riddance.

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

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

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

God bless America.

Yes. God bless America.

Yes. Thanks, Mac.

My pleasure.

I'm ruined! Mac!

Yes, you're bankrupt.

Wait. Wait.

I have an idea.

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

Listen, Mac. This
is a great idea.

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

Manservant? Me?
It's very nice.

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

My idea
is--

And here we are

We're the princes
of the universe

Here we belong
fighting for survival

We've come to be the
rulers of your world

I am immortal

I have inside
me blood of kings

I have no rival

No man can be my equal

Take me to the
future of your world

Closed-Captioned By
Captions, Inc. Los Angeles

Repair and Synchronization by
Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0