All language subtitles for Father Brown (2013) - 03x09 - The Truth in the Wine.TLA (HDTV + 720p).English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Shot!

Something to eat, your ladyship?

No, thank you. I'm saving my
palate for the wine-tasting.

And why doesn't that surprise me?

Careful, Anthony! We're
not running the Derby!

Is that the reclusive colonel?

He looks like a hero from
an H. Rider Haggard novel.

In that case, does that make Lady
Edna She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed?

Ladies and gentlemen,

welcome to the launch of
our first official vintage.

If you'd like to follow me to the
winery, we shall begin the tour.

Oh, heads!

Well stopped.

Here it comes!

Not joining us for the tour?

The colonel don't want
the likes of me there.

Enjoy.

Let me introduce Gregoire Bisset,

the rising star of
French viniculture.

Gregoire has helped me transform
our little patch of England

into a vineyard to rival
the finest in Europe,

one of only three wine estates
in the whole country.

And he speaks excellent English,

so we don't have to rely
on my schoolboy French.

Erm...

So here's the press room,

where we extract the juice
from the new harvest.

Et, er...

we grow Seyval blanc which creates
a beautiful white juice.

I show you...

I thought he said white.

This is wrong...

Was it your dog?

It was my son's.

Bacchus was a present
to Tom from the colonel.

Find Tom and keep him away.
He shouldn't see this.

Yes, Mrs Grayson.

Shall I take you back
to the house, Lady Edna?

I think that would be best.

I think we could all
do with some fresh air.

An excellent idea. We shall
continue with the tour.

Tom!

Where's Tom?

Went inside.

Stay away from him.

You'll fill his head with mischief.

He's a young lad. His head's
already full of mischief.

Anyway, he's the only one round
here who don't think I'm scum.

Want some?

Pinched that?

Colonel don't mind. There's plenty
more where that came from.

You'll get in trouble.

I don't think so.

Why don't you come and join me? We
could erm... have a little party.

~ No, thanks.
~ Why not? Huh?

Prefer your men a bit
more continental?

You're drunk.

I just want a cuddle.

Here, see?

~ You're desperate to get your hands on me.
~ No! Let go of me!

What's the matter, eh?

No!

Urgh!

You vicious...

Unfortunately, we must battle
the English weather.

~ I've heard of hair of the dog, but...
~ Shh!

The key is irrigation.

With good irrigation, we can
transform water into wine.

Who would do such a
thing to a poor dog?

It was Henry Gibbs, I'm telling you.

Er, could you excuse me for
a moment? Just carry on.

One second.

Over here we have a... a
small area of Pinot blanc.

Bit of an experiment...

What happened?

Gibbs.

What did he do?

He tried to...

I'm sorry. You're busy.

Tea?

Tea is for gossip. Brandy for shock.

Oh, careful with that decanter.

Wedding present from my late husband.

Oh.

Along with this...

That is beautiful.

Contains the key to his heart.

I must confess to an ulterior
motive in getting you alone.

Oh, forgive me, Father, my
defrocking days are long gone.

More raisin than grape, nowadays.

I wanted to have a chat.

You have not been to Mass for months.

Well, I... lose track of the days.

I er...

And my Anthony's too
busy to drive me.

Hardly surprising, dealing
with a saboteur.

Criminals everywhere.

The country's going to the dogs.

If you'll excuse the pun.

Hmm.

Well, your son is a colonel.
He'll look after you.

Don't you let that
eye patch fool you.

He got that walking behind
his father's horse as a boy.

Anthony was in the...

What's it? The...

The diplomatic corps.

The real army couldn't get
rid of him quick enough.

Would you?

After you...

So kind. I can't wait to taste it.

Let me know if you'd
like to place an order.

Has Mother offended
you? Because erm...

She was a little
agitated, that's all.

She's not been quite herself of late.

Exhaustion probably. She's
having trouble sleeping.

Have you consulted a doctor?

All "avaricious quacks", apparently.

Mmm.

I've tried talking to her but
erm... she doesn't make it easy.

My punishment for spending
two decades abroad.

I'm the prodigal son
trying to make amends.

I have a book that might help.

Priests must be familiar with the
idiosyncrasies of older people.

Shall I drop it round tomorrow?

I'd appreciate it.

Erm... is there anything
else you'd like help with?

The dog...

Ah, I've heard you're
a bit of a sleuth.

No. Erm...

That is a problem I
can deal with myself.

~ Until tomorrow, then.
~ Tomorrow.

What on earth were
you trying to achieve?

I told you. I want a
share of the vineyard.

Half my harvest was in that vat.

There won't be a vineyard
if you carry on like this!

Then give me what I want.

I spilt blood for this country.

I deserve my piece
of it as much as you.

And how would I explain
that to Lady Edna?

That I've given part of our estate
away to a stranger, a labourer.

Not my problem.

Look, I'm trying to help you here.

You're the one who said that
you can't afford to pay me off.

But if you'd prefer to
give me the money...

You've crossed a line.

I want you gone. Today.

You sure about that?

I've tolerated you for long enough.

Don't presume to know what sort
of man you're dealing with.

Leave.

I'll be back for what I'm owed!

Thank you, Father.

So, Father, you got any leads?

Woof! Woof!

That's not funny, Sid! Poor Tom.

First of all, he lost
his father in the war

and then somebody goes
and murderers his dog.

Father...

Don't you want it?

I prefer my wine with
a little less... body.

~ Hmm.
~ Good night.

Henry Gibbs?

Before you say anything, I'm
just here to see the colonel.

Just don't get involved
and don't get in my way.

Have you seen...?

~ Yes.
~ Yes, of course you have.

What do you think, sir?

Two gunshots, only one entry wound.

Bruising to his neck.

So...

Struggle for the weapon.

Gun goes off, hitting the side table.

Gibbs is overpowered by the killer,

shoots him at close range.

And the bullet passes
through the body...

.. before hitting the mirror.

Curious corbelling.

Gibbs was well-built.

So, I'd say our suspect
is probably male,

fit,

possibly with combat training.

Anything else I can do?

Could you offer my mother some words
of comfort when she wakes up?

She was disturbed by the commotion,
found the whole thing very upsetting.

I gave her something to help
her get back to sleep.

Father, if you wouldn't
mind leaving us?

I'd like to check some basic facts.

We told your colleague.

We heard two gunshots in the night.

We all went to my study
and found the body.

~ What more do you need to know?
~ Who arrived first?

I did.

Lord have mercy!

He's dead.

Shall I call the police?

Erm, yes, of course.

~ The police.
~ The labourers' wages are gone!

Oh...!

Your bedroom's nearest the study and
yet you were the last one to arrive.

I checked on her ladyship
first. She was still asleep.

Only, I must have disturbed her

because next thing, she's downstairs

and all screaming the place down.

Lady Edna was
understandably distressed.

Gibbs was killed by a handgun.
Is there one on the premises?

No.

I've ordered a search of the
house and grounds, just in case.

Surely it was just
a burglary gone wrong?

Are you suggesting that
Gibbs disturbed a burglar?

I'm suggesting he WAS one.

In that case, it's hardly
likely that he shot himself.

~ Maybe he had an accomplice?
~ Exactly!

The other fellow shot Gibbs and
then ran off with the money.

Possible. The missing money
wasn't with Gibbs' belongings.

But that doesn't mean the accomplice
isn't someone in this room.

How well did you all know the victim?

Miss Fletcher probably knew him
better than the rest of us.

That ain't true!

He was...after me.

I told him I weren't interested.

None of us knew him.

He came here looking for work and
has been nothing but trouble since.

In fact, I went to see him yesterday
and told him to move on.

Did you indeed?

Well, that'll be all.

The sergeant will take
your fingerprints.

Until we find our killer, no-one
is to leave the estate.

Don't you remember anything?

I think I... had a bad dream.

We had a break-in, Mother, remember?

I er...

.. think I would like
to be left in peace.

Perhaps a breath of fresh air?

Very well.

I'll be back to check on you later.

So, did you meet Gregoire
on your travels?

No, after I came back.

I er...

.. needed help here, so
I placed an advertisement.

Gregoire turned up like
a gift from Dionysus

with a reference from a
top vineyard in Bordeaux.

Do you still have the reference?

Only, the Kembleford Wine
Appreciation Society

would be very keen to know
more about our Gallic friend.

Done.

I'll dig it out for you.

He's a good chap,
take my word for it.

Er, Mrs McCarthy...

.. noticed a hint of romance
between Gregoire and Emily.

Did she now?

He's certainly keen.

As for her, I wouldn't know.

What about Gibbs?

An itinerant labourer.

Arrived a few weeks ago.

First time I'd laid eyes on him.

Inspector! I've found something!

Ah...

Well done, Sergeant.

Good work.

An Enfield No.2.

Standard issue British
Army service revolver.

Mark one double star.

Not in production until 1942.

I was in Africa by then.

Anyway, I've always
preferred the Webley.

Those later Enfields don't
have a safety on the hammer.

Tend to go off if you have
to hit the deck in a hurry.

You seem to know a lot about guns,

considering you're a member
of the diplomatic corps.

One picks things up.

If you'll excuse me?

Still here, Father?

Er...

~ Er, yes. God's work, never done.
~ Mm-hm...

Thank you.

Mrs Grayson, is it true you
have access to the safe?

Colonel and I both have keys.

I've done the accounts since
the old master's day.

For the vineyard as well?

Right now that's just a very
long list of expenses.

The vineyard's not making any money?

Well, it's early days.

I'd like to see the books, if I may?

I'll get them for you when
I've finished preparing lunch.

The Met are on the telephone, sir.
They've got something for you.

Very good, Sergeant.

~ Oh...
~ Hands off!

Must have been distressing...

.. seeing his dead body.

I know what you're
getting at, Father,

but there weren't nothing between us.

Now, please, I'm already behind.

Ah, Miss Fletcher...

~ Would you excuse us, please, Father?
~ Oh, stay.

I know what you coppers are like.

I imagine you do. I've just
had an interesting chat

with a colleague down at
the Metropolitan Police.

You've quite a colourful history.

Trespass.

Theft.

Soliciting.

You try living on the streets,
bombs falling all around,

parents six feet under.

I did what I had to.

Common assault.

Gibbs had a bite mark on his hand.

Oh, he had it coming!

Well...I never shot nobody.

Yeah, I bit him, so what?

I was defending myself.
He was... trying it on.

Trying what on?

Oh, Inspector...

I think we both know
what she means by that.

Did you report this?

I told the colonel. Said
he'd ask Gibbs to leave.

I don't know what took him so long.

Well, Gibbs used to joke that
the colonel would never fire him

because they were old
army buddies, but...

They served together?

I doubt it. Gibbs was a born liar.

Look, the colonel is a good man,

a hero.

He saved my life the
first time I met him.

One night, in Farringdon,
not long after the war,

three lads dragged me down an alley.

The colonel's walking past, hears
me scream and comes running,

scares them off.

He gave me this job to
get me off the streets.

A hero, indeed.

Three against one.

How did he scare them off?

Well, he had his gun, so...

Colonel, I have a few more questions
regarding the murder of Henry Gibbs.

If you'd like to accompany
me to the station...

Anthony...

I'm afraid your son's not here.

Of course not.

I'll never see my boy again.

I'm sure that's not true.

It is!

Would you pray for him, Father?

I will.

And I will do everything I can
to help him, I promise you.

Is there anything else
I can do to help?

Oh, thank you, we'll be fine.

Monsieur Bisset is driving me into
Kembleford shortly. Would you like a lift?

I'm sure your bicycle
would fit in the back.

That would be very kind.

~ Is the colonel to be
expected back for dinner?
~ How should I know?

~ Sorry, I...
~ What have I told you about
wearing your hair down?

~ I lost my ribbon.
~ Well, then, cut a new one.

Shall we see you outside, Father?

Five minutes.

47 seconds.

Always had a thing about fires.

My grandfather told me that, if you
stare at the flames for long enough,

you might catch a glimpse
of the Devil.

Did you?

No. Not today.

We're leaving, so...

Gibbs' military records.

He spent six months guarding
the same temporary base in Tunis

in which you were stationed.

Along with hundreds of
other men, no doubt.

It's mere coincidence that he turned
up in Kembleford? Admit it.

~ You knew Gibbs all along.
~ No.

You asked him to leave. Did he agree?

Reluctantly.

Did you have to threaten
him with your gun?

Like I said, that gun was...

Easy enough to get into
the hands of an officer.

The safe wasn't forced.

Only you and Mrs Grayson have a key.

But she has an alibi.

Gregoire saw her leaving the room
after the gunshots were fired.

How could I have dumped
the gun in the pond

and still been first on the scene?

You could have hidden it, then
taken it to the pond later.

And my motive?

Money.

Get your old army buddy
to help stage a burglary,

claim on the insurance.

The estate accounts.

You're broke.

I'm guessing that Gibbs got
greedy in the last minute,

demanded a larger cut.

There was an argument
and you killed him.

Weak speculation.

I've sent the gun off to
forensics for fingerprints.

Let's see what turns up, shall we?

Could you telephone Lady
Felicia for me, please?

Ask her to speak to her friend
at the Foreign Office

and see what she can find
out about the colonel?

So, do you think the colonel
murdered Henry Gibbs?

My ideas are still fermenting.

Either way, I made a promise to
Lady Edna to discover the truth

and I intend to honour it.

Oh, but where are you off to now?

To the police station.

I'm sure the colonel will need
some spiritual guidance.

Oh, and I nearly forgot, while
you're on the telephone,

please tell Sid I have a job for him.

Thank you.

Why are you here?

Because I promised your mother
I'd do what I could.

A waste of time.

The inspector's determined
to see me hang.

If you're telling the truth, you'll
need to have faith and be patient.

~ Are you?
~ I swear to you, I didn't kill Gibbs.

That's not what I asked.

Do you believe it's
always wrong to lie?

Even if it's for a greater good?

Interesting question.

St Augustine argues that
a lie is never justified

and yet, in the Bible, Rahab lies to
save the lives of two Jewish spies

and is herself spared from death.

What do you think?

I think that if you have
something to confess,

you had better do it now
while you have the chance.

It would be in strictest confidence.

There's nothing to tell.

You have no idea who killed Gibbs?

~ None at all.
~ Because...

You should go.

Very well. But in my experience,
the truth will always out.

I suppose it's a question
of intention.

Are you lying to protect yourself?

Or someone else?

Psst! Father!

What are you doing here?

Well, you told me to follow them.

I wanted you to follow
them in Kembleford,

not loiter around their house.

You've got to see this...

So, when I was in town, Gregoire
or whatever his name is,

goes to get a broken headlight fixed.

I'm thinking, hang about, why's
he got a broken headlight?

Look under the front.

Father?

Father...!

What exactly are you doing?

Well, I've always been
fascinated by cars.

You know, transmissions,

differentials, that sort of thing.

Really?

I got your message.

I understand you found Gregoire's
letter of recommendation.

~ The colonel mentioned
that you wanted to see it.
~ Thank you.

~ Would you like a cup of tea?
~ No, no, no.

I won't trouble you any longer.

I would never have thought that.

~ What?
~ She looks every inch
the respectable war widow.

Sid, what?

Right, the Frog's gone in the garage,
she's popped in the bank.

Oh, and you are acquainted with
a certain young bank clerk.

We may have exchanged
pleasantries in the past.

There you go. Have a bash on that.

Check out her name.

What's that?

Gregoire's letter of recommendation.

Oh, so it's the Frenchman now?

Mrs Grayson gave him an alibi.

Oh...

Father Brown.

Sullivan here. I need you to come
to the police station, Father.

The colonel has just
tried to hang himself.

Right away.

I have to return to
the police station.

You're not going anywhere
until you've heard my news.

I'd been in to see him
a few minutes before.

May I ask why?

We found two sets of
prints on the revolver.

One of them belonged to him.

I told him he was going
to be charged with murder.

Who did the other set belong to?

We don't know yet.

Why have you sent for me?

Yes, well, the colonel wants
to save us the bother

of sending him to the scaffold.

So, for once, our professional
interests coincide.

It's your duty to stop him
committing a mortal sin

and mine to see him stand trial.

I'd like you to talk to him.

Stop him from trying again.

You think he will?

We've taken his sheets

but, as you know, there are many
ways for a man to kill himself.

I'll do what I can.

At least this should
put your mind at rest.

How so?

Always a sign of a guilty conscience.

Forgive me, Father.

I was in a dark place.

Then let in God's light.

Open up your heart.

How did you lose your eye?

A riding accident.

I... I fell and my horse kicked out.

Your horse?

Lady Edna said it was your father's.

I...

You know what her memory's like.

Take off your eye patch.

What?

You told your guests that you
only had schoolboy friendships,

which is puzzling

for a diplomat stationed in Tunisia.

And you were telling the truth
about not knowing Gibbs

until he arrived at the
estate, weren't you?

Whereas Colonel Forbes-Leith would
have seen him a hundred times.

Take it off.

Why?

Because, according
to the Foreign Office,

the real Colonel Forbes-Leith
died in Tunis...

.. in 1945.

Who are you?

Joseph Hawkins,

Sergeant,

25762751.

Pleased to meet you.

I met him in hospital.

The real colonel.

For a month, he kept talking
about this crazy plan

to build a vineyard on
his estate back home.

We didn't even realise how similar we looked
until one of the nurses got us mixed up.

You stole his identity?

Stole?

It was his idea.

He knew he was dying.

He got me to practise his voice,
taught me about his family,

his childhood.

He gave you his life.

Why?

He wanted someone to
build his vineyard,

carry on his name.

He wanted his mother to have a son.

I'm an orphan.

No family to miss me.

It was my chance to become
something better.

Water into wine.

When the fever finally took him,

I got a friend to intercept
the telegram to the estate.

All I needed was his eye patch
and a... spare uniform.

But surely Lady Edna realised
that you weren't her son?

He wrote me a letter to give her,

just in case, explaining his reasons,
but... I never needed it.

And she'd not seen him
for decades, remember?

He was just a lad when he signed up.

Hello, Mother.

She's always been a few
grapes short of a bunch.

It was such chaos after the war,

it was easy enough to
fudge the paperwork.

So no-one in Kembleford knew that
Colonel Forbes-Leith was dead?

It was all going well
until Gibbs turned up.

Knew the colonel, he said.

He was going to spill the beans, so
I offered him a job to keep him sweet.

But it wasn't enough.

I've killed a lot of men, Father.

I can tell you about every one.

But I didn't kill Gibbs.

I heard the gunshots and er...

.. I found him in the study,

already dead.

With Emily.

She was in a such a state.
I told her to hide the gun.

I thought, without it, the
police would have no proof,

not if we kept our mouths shut.

She admitted killing him?

No, she didn't have to. Her hands
were covered in his blood.

And you will hang to protect her?

Gibbs was only there because of me.

She was attacked because of my lies.

No wonder she took matters
into her own hands.

But if she was defending herself...

With her past, nobody'd believe her.

I won't risk it.

Tell the truth. You can
still save yourself.

Are you talking about
my soul or my neck?

Both, perhaps.

Let me tell the inspector.

No.

No, this is what I deserve.

Why are you determined to die?

You said it yourself.

The truth will come out.

The only people who've
ever cared for me

will discover what a fraud I am.

How could I look Lady
Edna in the eye again?

The shame is unbearable.

The shame is because
you're wearing a mask.

Take it off.

Let them know who you are.

But everything I am is a lie.

YOU built the vineyard.

YOU looked after them
all for all those years.

Let them remember Joseph Hawkins.

Can't promise they'll believe you.

That depends.

Where is the letter that Colonel
Forbes-Leith gave you

to give to Lady Edna?

It's in a hidden compartment
at the bottom of the safe.

Same place I kept the gun.

No letter.

~ Father?
~ Requiescat in pace.

~ What are you doing in here?
~ Amen.

Special prayer for the dead.

I wonder if I might have a word
with everyone in the drawing room?

He ain't no colonel?

This is not possible.

He's a charlatan?

Oh, don't be too quick to judge.

You've all sought to
transform yourselves.

Didn't you,

Miss Maitland?

Miss?

You said your old
man died in the war.

My George did die in the war!

But...we were never actually married.

I met him just before
he left for France.

One night together and then...

Father, is there a reason
you wish to humiliate me?

Yes.

Because the truth, in its
entirety, could save that man.

I don't see how. So
I took George's name.

I didn't want everyone judging
Tom for my foolishness.

But I have been entirely loyal
to Lady Edna and the colonel.

Of course you have.

They took you and your son
in when others wouldn't.

And when you saw the chance

of saving their estate
from financial ruin,

you had no hesitation.

The labourers' wages have gone!

Knowing that the insurance
would pay the money back,

"Mrs Grayson"

deposited the money in
the estate's account...

... under "income from wine sales".

But, of course, we know that not
a single bottle was sold yesterday.

I warned the colonel,
or whoever he is,

a hundred times that we were on a
knife-edge, but he wouldn't listen.

~ But this is beside the point.
I certainly didn't kill anyone.
~ No.

But there is a killer in this room.

Isn't there?

Yes, all right.

I confess.

Monsieur Bisset!

But, please, it was an accident.

He just ran in front of the car.

The car?

He just lay there...

What are you on about?

Bacchus.

Tom's dog.

Oh, dear.

I tell you what. Cos I like
you, I'll get rid of the body.

Get that headlight fixed and the
colonel will be none the wiser.

They'll think he ran away.

What will you do with him?

I know just the place.
Pop him on the back.

Then you burned your shirt
in case anybody saw the blood.

The colonel would have fired me.

Please, I love my job.

Nobody would pay me to make wine.

Mmm.

Gregoire's qualifications
were somewhat exaggerated.

I don't think Sergeant
Hawkins speaks French

because this letter appears
to commend your talents

as a reliable delivery driver.

It was a misunderstanding.
I just needed a job.

And I showed the letter
to the colonel and...

He seemed to think that I...

Well... the next thing I knew,

I was his vigneron.

So you know nothing
about making wine?

I found a book in a second-hand
shop. It's been most helpful.

But yours is, perhaps,
the greatest lie of all.

You were first to the
study, weren't you?

I found Gibbs. He weren't breathing.

I told the colonel that
I wanted Gibbs dealt with.

I didn't think he'd kill him.

Get rid of it,

then wash your hands.

Say nothing.

Yes, sir.

So, you agreed to hide the
revolver to help the colonel.

He changed my life.

The colonel, sergeant, I don't care
what he is, I'd still be on the
streets if it weren't for him.

But he thinks you killed Gibbs.

What?!

How would you have known
how to get into the safe?

Still less that the
revolver was in there?

No. It wasn't you.

Two shots.

I think the first shot
was an accident.

Somebody dropped the Enfield No.2

and it misfired.

Somebody frail.

Somebody frightened.

They then managed to pick
the revolver back up

and shoot Gibbs dead.

What's in the locket?

The key to your husband's heart?

Oh!

My little joke.

My husband had the safe installed.

All he really cared about was money.

What happened last night?

I heard a noise. Somebody
breaking in.

So...

.. I went to get the gun.

Anthony...

Oh, Sergeant Hawkins, is it?

.. told me that he kept one in the
safe, to reassure me, I suppose.

But...

.. the gun wasn't the
only thing I found.

I recognised the handwriting
straight away.

Anthony always did funny Hs.

~ Don't worry, I'm just
here for what I'm owed.
~ Get out!

Get out or I'll call my son!

Your son is dead, old woman.

And you will be next unless
you keep your mouth shut!

But, then, you know...

.. I think I always knew

Sergeant Hawkins wasn't

my Anthony.

Perhaps it was easier to go along
with it than to accept the truth?

My son is dead, isn't he?

Yes.

But why didn't you tell
the truth straightaway?

Nobody would have blamed
you. It was self-defence.

I wanted that impostor
to take the blame.

He lied to me!

And he should hang for that?

Shouldn't he?

When you think about it,

Sergeant Hawkins has dedicated his life
to fulfilling your son's dying wish.

He built up his vineyard,
he looking after you.

I do not agree with the deception,

but neither do I think
him an evil man.

Do you?

Rise and shine.

Am I going to court?

Somebody's confessed.

Emily?

No. Lady Edna.

You're not serious?

The second set of prints
on the gun belonged to her.

She's not being charged, either.

Apparently it was
reasonable self-defence.

I'll explain everything later.

But, meanwhile, there are some people
who want to meet Joe Hawkins.

Welcome home, sir.

Thanks, Tom.

Welcome home, Colonel.

Call me Joe.

And er...

.. I was only ever a sergeant.

Congratulations.

I wondered how long it would take.

Thank you, sir.

Nothing to say for yourself?

Forgive me, Lady Edna.

My intention was never to
dishonour your son's name,

only to honour his love for you.

Sentimental claptrap!

Listen, whoever you are,

you've carried me up
and down these stairs,

listened to me wittering on for hours

and kept this old pile
of stones going.

Whatever charade brought you here...

.. this is your home.

But let's have no more
of this sergeant nonsense.

Colonel's much better.

Whoever's going to buy wine
from Sergeant Hawkins?

Huh?