All language subtitles for T.R.o.S.H.S01E06.The.Case.of.the.Mirror.of.Portugal.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

In late Victorian London
lived many detectives

who were the rivals
of Sherlock Holmes.

Hmm, hmm.

Oy, yi, yi.

Good day to you.

A day can change suddenly.

- Well, now.
-Yeah?

I don't know too much
about the market.

There, my dear, young sir,
we can agree.

How much can you offer?

I tell you what.

You come back and see me when
you want to sell some diamonds.

But these --

If you'll excuse me,
but marbles I don't buy.

Well, very well.
I shall take them elsewhere.

Please.
It could damage my reputation

to be seen looking
at such rubbish.

Same old Solomons.

You should give me
lessons in being big-hearted.

So, are you buying or selling?
It's a pleasure, I don't think.

I'm merely making
a few inquiries.

You mean I'm not to be
the victim?

In that case,
you're quite right.

Today's an exceptionally
nice day.

It's a good job
I'm not sensitive.

- You want a glass of tea?
- Thank you.

Come.

Go keep an eye on the office,

but, mind you,
don't do no business.

A customer comes,
you send for me.

You really ought to learn
to delegate.

Oh, I should train someone
to do my job.

Oh, yes.
Then what's to become of me?

So, who's in trouble?

No one yet.

- But somebody soon will be, eh?
- With a bit of luck.

Just so long as it isn't me.

Oh, this is kind of you.

And the picture business is
paying dividends already, hmm?

I heard the insurers
was paying you

to get back the Franz Hals
what was stolen.

Which I shall.

Oh, I don't doubt you'll get it.

The question is "Will they?"

You could hurt
a person's feelings.

If such a person
had got feelings.

So, you like I should look
after it for a while, eh?

Huh?

Oh, no!

You're barking up
the wrong tree entirely.

Oh, so convince me.

This is just an old friend
I've been having reframed.

Oy, this is a friend?

A man's best friend.

I haven't got a doggy.

Nor I, but it's a popular print.

- Is this so?
- It's called "Trust."

It should hang on the wall
of your office maybe.

It does.

Now I don't know whether
I should laugh or cry.

Tell me about the French
crown jewels instead.

What crown?

Were any lost
during the revolution?

- What revolution?
- 1789.

1789 I was in business already?

Listen. I'm serious.
Any particular stone?

Like a diamond?

Probably.

There is a legend of a diamond.

Valuable?

Huh. How do you put a price
on history?

The stone was called
the Mirror of Portugal.

Why Portugal?

It's big all right,

but if the legend is true,
it's dangerous.

See, an Indian prince is killed

for it to be brought
to another prince --

Henry the Navigator --
in the days of Portugal's glory.

Later it is pledged to
Queen Elizabeth of England

by Don Antonio, The Pretender,

but before he can redeem it,
what happens?

He is assassinated.

It stays here
till Charles I is executed,

then, by way of
his Queen Henrietta

and Mazarin to the French Crown,

where the mob cuts off
another royal owner's head.

Whereupon it disappeared.

In so far as I believed the
legend at all, so I believed.

Until?

Today.
Have you got it?

- No.
- But you intend to.

Well, it sounds a useful
sort of thing to have.

Unless you are superstitious.

Or royal.
Neither of which applies.

In any case, I don't propose
to hoard it, much less wear it.

How would you dispose of it?

- I hoped you might advise me.
- Uh-huh.

Legally or illegally?

Well, you know me.

I'm always willing to consider
profitable alternatives.

You could offer it to the
French government for a reward.

- Provided I could show title?
- Yes.

And the alternative?

You could have it recut,
I imagine, by an expert.

- Someone like yourself.
- I imagine.

- Into?
- Three, four stones maybe.

- Worth?
- I would have to see to say.

At a guess?

- Together?
- Mm-hmm.

£100,000 maybe.

This is if the rumors of the
size and quality of the original

are anything to go by.

- I won't quote you.
- Thank you.

- Not even to yourself.
- God forbid!

Don't disturb yourself.

Oh, that's all right.
That'll be for me.

You know, for a man who comes
to ask for free advice,

you are a liberty-taker.

Good morning, sir.

Out, out, outside!
Outside.

Little pitchers have long ears.

Quick.

Thanks for the tea!

So...
So, what did they say?

- Nothing.
- Nothing?

Well, they never got the chance.

The big fella just said,
"Little pitchers have --"

"...have long ears."

Yeah, I know, I know,
I know, I know.

"Trust."

Less noise, Farrish!

You'll be getting the place
a bad name.

It is very important!
I have a business meeting!

-You are not allowed --
-Let go of me!

No!

Look!
I said --

Ugh!

- You again?
- Monsieur Dorrington!

Well, you said not to allow him

to show his face around here
again, sir.

Yes, carry on
with the good work, Farrish.

But the fee you demanded!
I have it, you see?!

So you do.

Parrot, Farrish, really.
My dear Monsieur Bouvier.

I can only apologize for a most
regrettable misunderstanding.

So I should hope.

Though,
in fairness to my assistants,

it's easier for a camel to pass
through the eye of a needle

than for a poor man
to enter my office.

However...

It wasn't such a difficult sum
to raise, then.

Oh.
If you knew what I had to do.

Yes, I'd rather not.

So, all's well that ends well,
eh?

Now...what was it you wished
to consult me about?

Don't tell me you have forgot.

I'm too busy to dwell
upon a case

until money has changed hands.

You'll have to remind me.

The diamond!

That's right.

And something about a cousin,
wasn't it?

My cousin Leon.
He is coquin -- a rascal.

Yes, it's coming back.
He runs a café, doesn't he?

The Café des Bons Camarades.

- In Soho?
- You remember.

- Vaguely.
- I told you.

But how did he come
by that diamond?

I remember at the time
that worried me.

Listen.

My father, he was
a charcoal burner at Bonneuil.

My uncle, the father of my
cousin, charcoal burner also.

- My grandfather, his father --
- Yes, yes, all right.

We don't have to go back
to the Book of Genesis.

You come of a family
of charcoal burners.

From Bonneuil,
Department of Seine.

Your pride of ancestry is most
affecting, Monsieur Bouvier.

Is it relevant?

The father of my grandfather
was a leader of the revolution.

Oh, you mean he stole the thing?

I do not say "stole."

Then he went back to
burning charcoal

with this priceless gem

which was handed down
from father to son?

- Until my grandfather.
- Why?

- Pardon?
- Why didn't he sell it?

Who would believe
that a poor charcoal burner

had come honestly
by such a jewel?

Yes, it's plausible.
Ironic, but plausible.

More.

I believe that my grandfather,
he comes to love that stone.

It is very beautiful.

It is the Mirror of Portugal.

You told me you hadn't seen it.

My father did.

Mmm. Before your uncle
inherited it, presumably?

My father swears
it was meant for him.

Mm, that's families for you.

Then...my father died suddenly.

An accident says my uncle.

No accident says my mother.

Then, soon after,
she dies suddenly.

Another accident?

Yeah, another accident, too.

So I am left alone,
a little boy to burn charcoal.

Ohh.

Then comes the Prussian War.

My uncle burning charcoal
no more.

Takes things from the bodies
of the dead besiegers.

Perhaps when he finds them,
they are not quite dead, huh?

Perhaps he makes them so.

Be that as it will,

one dark night,
the Prussians take him outside.

They put him up against the wall
and piff-puff.

What with the streak
of delinquency

and the accident rate
in your family,

it's a wonder any of you
are alive to tell the tale.

My cousin Leon, he is alive!

He has the café
given to him by my aunt.

He has the jewel.

There are no two ways about it.
Life can be unfair.

Shall I burn charcoal
at Bonneuil and starve

while I have a rich cousin
in London --

rich with a diamond
that should be mine?

Not so.

I come to London.

I tell Leon he must share.

He laughs at me.

"There is no diamond," he says.
"You're mad," he says.

Not so!

If you're so sure,
why come to me?

Why not the police?

Aww, the police.

It is one of the crown jewels
of France, you understand.

To go to the police
is to lose it altogether.

Well...

And what do you expect me to do
about it?

Steal it for you?

How can you steal
what does not belong?

I merely require instructions,
not a grounding in ethics.

Then, yes, and soon.

Already he's going every day
to Hatton Garden.

There he has an office.

Perhaps he's getting rid
of the diamond already.

Who can tell?

Who indeed?

What kind of fee do you propose?

Well,
I've already paid your fee.

What, this?

This barely covers
the time I've spent with you.

Get the diamond and there is
one-quarter, 25% for you.

What guarantee have I got
that you're telling the truth?

Oh, it is true, I say.

I don't even know
if the diamond exists at all.

- It is a fortune.
- Yes, that may be,

but you really can't expect me
to take it all on trust

and work for nothing.

I'm a man of business.

I have no money.

You said that before.

I got what you asked for.

Then do so again.

Then we can talk further, hmm?

But I cannot raise anymore!

And I can't afford
to pursue the fantasies

of every Jacques, Dick, and
Harry who knocks on my door!

Oh, do not be foolish!

It seems to me
that I already have been.

You come here.

You try to enlist my services

with as long
and unlikely a rigmarole

as I've ever been bored by,

and then have the gall to tell
me that you can't pay for them?

It is a chance of a lifetime!

I'd be in a poor way if it were.

- But, mon Dieu!
- I'll give you mon Dieu!

I'll have you know
I made preliminary inquiries.

Oh, yes.

I've got my reputation
to think of.

And there's not
the slightest evidence

that this famous diamond
ever existed.

Now, I don't know
what your game is --

I tell you --

No, I tell you
I want no part in it, sir.

Now, you get out!

Or I'll call the constable
this instant

and inform him

that you have invited me to
engage in a criminal activity.

Farrish!

Get this piece of French offal
out of here before I damage it!

Sir.

Now, you show your face around
here again, and I'm warning you.

I'll have you clapped
behind bars!

- And the fee I am paying you?
- Have it back!

I don't do business
with the likes of you!

Sir!
You are a very big fool!

Get out!

Well, whatever did he want, sir?

He wanted me to steal
that diamond.

Good Lord.

He wanted me to do it
for nothing

and give him three-quarters
of the proceeds.

No wonder you were indignant.

In all the time
I've worked for you, sir,

I've never known you
to return a fee before.

I wasn't returning a fee.
I was simply reinvesting it.

In what, sir?

Oh, there are times, Farrish,
and this is one of them,

when I really do despair of you.

What better way could I convince
my would-be client

that I don't believe in him?

- I thought you did.
- I do.

Then your indignation...

Was expressly designed
to suggest the opposite.

Why?

Because, you dolt,
the last thing he'll expect

is for me to go looking
for the Mirror of Portugal now.

And by the time he realizes it,
if he ever does...

You will have found it, sir.

With any luck.

And disposed of it.

And given all the proceeds
to my favorite charity,

which, if Solomons is any judge,

is set fair to benefit
to the tune of £100,000.

I don't think I could eat
another thing.

Coffee? Brandy?

No, really, Uncle.

Alors, l'addition,
s'il vous plait.

Bien, monsieur.

Oh! Leon!

That's le patron.
Come on.

Leon!

Here, here!
Prends le cognac!

I am --
I am coming home.

I am in -- in the alley.

There is a knee in my back,

a cloth over my face!

I choke.
I fall.

There is no more.

Leon, the box?

Mon Dieu.
Gone.

Oh, we are robbed!

Now, be a good fellow, George.
Run and fetch a constable.

No, no.

But, my dear chap,
this is a job for the police.

No, I know who did this.

Well, all the more reason.

- It is Jacques, huh?
- Is my cousin.

Oh, I see.
Well, that does make it awkward.

Very hot on family loyalty,
the French.

I'll say.

Now, what you need
is a private detective.

Yes, yes.
Where to find?

We do not know any
private detectives, monsieur.

Ah, well, as it happens, I do.

There's a firm we've used
from time to time.

Really?

Whether I've got
their address --

Yes, I have.

Here, I'll jot it down for you.

Yes, yes.
I go now.

Are you sure
you're in a fit state?

Oh, there is no time to lose,
monsieur!

Vite!
Leon, go!

Horace Dorrington's
the man you need.

Now, don't tell your mother
about this

or I'll never hear
the end of it.

What larks, eh?

- Monsieur Dorrington!
- Oh, I wish I were.

- Where is he?!
- Do you know what time it is?

I must see him!

Well, you can't.
Look, he went home hours ago.

What?
Still here, Farrish?

Oh, good evening, sir.

Monsieur Dorrington!

The French are taking over,
aren't they?

Yes, I'm Dorrington.

What can I do for you?

Something terrible!
I must speak with you.

Come in and sit down.

Thank you.

What was all that about?
Oh.

Well, well.

I shall have to start
charging you rent.

We were working late, sir.

Ah, a delightful euphemism.

We'll be off, then, sir.

I think not.
You'll await my convenience.

Now, what can I do for you,
monsieur?

I am robbed, Mr. Dorrington.

Robbed by my cousin!
Coquin!

Then you better inform
the police, hadn't you?

I do not wish to damage
my cousin,

thief that he is.

And you don't want the police

asking awkward questions,
either,

do you, Monsieur Leon Bouvier?

You know my name?

There's very little
I don't know about you.

But how?

It's my trade.

You don't believe me?
Let's see if I can convince you.

It's my trade, for instance,

to know
of the Café des Bons Camarades.

It's my trade to know
of a misunderstanding

between a group
of Prussian soldiers

and your late lamented father.

It's my trade, moreover, to know
of your uncle's sudden demise --

an accident, of course --
just like that,

which, shortly afterwards,
overtook his widow.

Oh, yes, and more.

It's my trade
to know of a dispute

between your cousin and yourself

over a property just such

as that which
you have lost tonight.

A diamond -- is that right?

The Mirror of Portugal --

a stone which disappeared during
the great revolution of 1789...

in which it appears one of
your charcoal-burning ancestors

played a leading role.

It's not possible.

A client's affairs are sacred,

and our resources
are at his disposal.

Perhaps you should become
a client?

Yes.

Yes, indeed.

Very wise choice, if I may so.

What the devil?
Farrish!

I'm busy, damn it!

Forgive me, monsieur.

Inspector,
he's very busy. I'm sorry.

It's the police, sir.
They insist.

Tell them to wait!

This won't wait, Dorrington,
I'm afraid.

How dare you, sir?

Who's this?

A client.
Monsieur Bouvier.

I am in professional
consultation.

Inspector Brent
of the Metropolitan Police

is an old friend of mine.

I use the term
in its widest sense.

A bit late to be seeing clients,
isn't it?

That's my affair.
What do you want here?

Mm, well, I don't think
we need to detain you, sir.

On the contrary.

I shall need you as a witness.

I may seek damages against
this outrageous intrusion.

Take a shorthand note
of everything that he said.

I advise you not to obstruct us,
Dorrington.

I'm here in connection

with the theft
of the Franz Hals painting.

No doubt.

Ah, so you don't deny
knowledge of it.

On the contrary.

Since you failed so dismally
to recover it,

the insurance company
has engaged me to do so.

Hmm.
Well, we have found the thief.

Ah, congratulations.

And he tells me
that you've got there first

and made him give
the property to you.

This will put you away
for 14 years, Dorrington.

Have you got that, Farrish?

You're a witness,
Monsieur Bouvier.

I shall issue a writ for slander
first thing tomorrow morning.

Hah. All right, Colson.
You take that side.

Simpson, over there,
and you two in there.

I assume you have a warrant.

Section 3, '61 Act
to search and seize.

Help yourself at your peril,

if you wouldn't mind leaving
a little corner

where my client and I
can discuss an urgent matter.

Oh, very well.
Over there.

Thank you.

Make a note
of any damage they cause.

Now, you've agreed to become
a client.

Yes.

You wish me to recover
your lost property.

Yes!

Well, then, the first thing
is an advance against my fee.

How much?

20 guineas is usual.

This is a large amount.

Large? Nonsense.
It's a bare half-day's expenses.

Besides, a café proprietor

and a diamond merchant
such as yourself...

You know this, too?

It's my trade, I tell you.
20 guineas.

Do I get a receipt?

Between gentlemen?

Ah.
Have you got a license for this?

Unlucky again.

You'll find it
in the same drawer at the back.

Hmm.

Oh, by the way,
where did you keep --

where did you keep
your property?

In a little wooden box
on a cord around my neck.

I mean, always.
Even in bed.

Poor Madame Bouvier.

- Please?
- No matter.

Oh, Dorrington.

I'd like the key
to that cabinet, please.

I'm sorry, Inspector.

You mean
you won't give it to me?

I mean I don't appear
to have the key on me.

In that case,
we shall have to force it open.

I warn you.
It's a period piece.

If you damage it...

Well...

You might have told me
it was empty.

You didn't ask me.

To the damage of one Chippendale
cabinet -- 42 guineas.

No luck?
Oh, dear me.

Dorrington, you needn't think
you've heard the last of this.

Nor you.

I shall send the bill

for the damage you have caused
to your superiors.

Farrish,
show the constabulary out.

Sir.

All right, men.

Now we can talk freely.

Yes.

The little box you kept
around your neck...

Yes.

Tonight when I come to myself,
my collar is broken,

and the stud, you see --

the cord, it is cut,
and all is gone.

And do you think
your cousin has done this?

Who else?
Who else would even know?

Well, we'd best have a look
at the scene of the crime.

Farrish, Parrot.

I'll join you downstairs,
monsieur.

Monsieur.

Going, sir?

I'll be back.
You stay here.

Unless I'm much mistaken,

there will be some work
for you to do

before the night is much older.

And you can clear up
this...mess!

But I'll miss my train!

Oh, dear.

But it's the last one!

You should have
thought of that before.

-But, sir.
- Well?

Miss Parrot, sir.
She'll be compromised.

Then you'll have to make an
honest woman of her, won't you?

Does this serve anyone but you?

No.
No one at all.

- Give me the lantern, madame.
- Monsieur.

Now, if you would stand away,
I'll join you presently.

- Thank you.
- Ahh!

Did you find something,
monsieur?

Nothing to speak of.

Permettez, monsieur.

Madame.

You do not mind if I give Leon
to eat now, monsieur?

Oh, of course not, madame.

Will you join us, monsieur?

I've already dined, thank you.

Oh. Some coffee, perhaps?
Or a digestif?

Well, I wouldn't say no
to a glass of cognac.

Ah, très bien, monsieur.

Your cousin --
has he been ill lately?

- Ill?
- Jacques?

Not that I know of.

He has never been ill
in his life -- that one.

- Voilà, monsieur.
- Merci, madame.

We are -- how do you say --

the constitution as of oxes
in my family.

Yes, you don't seem
to go in much

for death from natural causes.

Santé.

Why do you ask?

Mmm.
Just an idea.

Does he wear spectacles?

- Jacques?
- Spectacles?

- Why should he?
- Not even for reading.

His eyes are perfect --
as good as mine.

Good.
Then listen carefully.

If you see your cousin,
do or say nothing.

Simply act normally,
except in one particular.

You are on no account to go
to Hatton Garden tomorrow.

- Why not?
- I shall go in your place.

Give me the address
of your office.

It is shared.
I have no key.

No matter.

But what will you do there?

That's my business.

But I insist --

And I insist upon doing business
in my way...

- But I have the right!
- ...or not at all.

It's up to you.

Very well.

Ah.
There's a good fellow.

If you could perhaps
just give me a hint.

That I will do.

Where is it
that diamonds are sold?

In Hatton Garden.

As well you know,
and as your cousin knows,

if, as I suspect,
he's been watching you.

Ah!

You think he will go there
to sell it.

And when he does, I shall be
there to intercept him.

- But how?
- That's my affair.

All you need to do

is to stay here at home
until you hear from me.

But you have a plan.

Oh, yes, I have a plan.

On that, you may rest assured.

Which I must now perfect.

- Madame, monsieur.
- Monsieur.

Good night to you!

- Bon soir, monsieur!
- Bon soir, monsieur!

If you can't
keep awake, keep quiet!

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

Well, one of you might take
a bit of an interest!

Sir.

Throw me that trade directory
over, would you?

Meanwhile,
what do you make of this?

It's a chloroform bottle.

Look, I already told you that.

What does it suggest?

That Cousin Jacques has taken
the law into his own hands, sir.

Wrong.
Cousin Leon thinks he has.

I don't understand, sir.

Jacques thinks
that Leon has the diamond,

and Leon thinks that Jacques
has relieved him of it.

I don't propose to disillusion
either of them yet awhile.

Why not, sir?

Because they're both wrong.
Ah.

Then who has got it?

A third party, obviously.

Obviously.

Yes, but who, sir?

In the state you're in,

we'll be here all night
if I have to explain it to you.

As it is,

find out how many druggists
there are in Hatton Garden

and give me a list
by 9:00 tomorrow morning,

by which time
you will have established

whether this gentleman --

I've written his home address
for you on the back --

wears spectacles
or possibly a pair of pince-nez

and furthermore whether
he has had to resort to repairs

or a spare pair of late.

- Clear?
- But, sir, how can I do --

Well, that's simple enough,
isn't it?

Well, yes.

Well, then don't make
difficulties.

He'll be in bed by now, sir.

- Very probably.
- Then how can I go --

Well, you're compromised
already, aren't you?

Cheer up.

The course of true love
and all that.

If only you'd take us
into your confidence and --

Haven't I been trying to do so?

And let's take it again,
slowly this time.

Depending upon the number
of druggists in Hatton Garden

and whether Mr. Hamer,
if he wears them,

has had an accident
with his glasses

or pince-nez or whatever,

why, then, when I call upon him
tomorrow morning,

the chances are
that he'll suffer

from something a good deal
more profitable to me

and more painful to him
than toothache!

- Now do you see?
- Toothache, sir?

Oh, I'm wasting my time.

Just do as you're told.

Be off with you,
the pair of you.

- Good night, sir.
- Good night, sir.

Good morning, Mr. Hamer.

You're early.
Do come in.

How's the toothache?

- Do I know you?
- Oh, you do now.

Chloroform is a capital thing
for toothache, don't you think?

What's your business?

I came to collect a diamond.

Since it doesn't appear
to be here,

I assume you have it with you.

Before you do anything hasty,

let me show you
a chloroform bottle

which was dropped last night.

It's beyond repair, I'm afraid.

Happily, you didn't quite
clean off the label.

Or else I might have had
a difficulty

in establishing the owner.

But, as you see, you left

the first letter of "E.C."
in the address

and the end of "Hatton Garden"
just before it.

And since there's only
one druggist in the Garden,

I was able to establish
that he had, in fact,

made up the remedy for you.

Well?

Yes, as your tone suggests,
there is another matter.

It's best to use a cord
with pince-nez.

It can save a breakage,

should the glasses get knocked
off in certain circumstances.

I see you're wearing a new pair.

I can restore
at least a part of those

which you dropped last night.

Yes, I agree.

It might be best
to shut the door.

We don't want to be overheard,
do we?

But to continue...

As you will perceive,

you're quite unable to hurt me,
and I'm not anxious to hurt you.

My name is Dorrington
of Dorrington & Hicks.

You may have heard of us.
My card.

I'm acting
for a Monsieur Leon Bouvier,

who shares this office with you.

It seems that he was set upon

in the alley outside his café
last night

and robbed of a diamond.

I'm here to take it from you.

What on earth makes you think
that I've got it?

Oh, come, Mr. Hamer,

that's hardly worthy of you.

If you insist, I'll show you
all the cards I hold.

But you're a man of business
like myself.

And since the scene of the crime

is positively strewn
with your possessions,

need we really,
as men of the world,

descend to piffling details?

Very well.

Suppose I have got it and
refuse to hand it over to you.

Oh, you're in no position
to refuse.

I say you're bluffing.

Then you're a slower man
than I took you for.

I've only to take my little bits
of evidence to the police,

and you'd have
an uncomfortably complete case

of robbery with violence
to answer for, wouldn't you?

How is your client
going to explain the fact

that he comes to be
in possession

of a diamond worth
at least £100,000?

If you were fool enough
to go to them,

the police might want to know
that, too.

That's a very good card to play,
Mr. Hamer.

- Where did he steal it, huh?
- Really, a capital card.

I think it takes the trick.

If I preferred my client's
interests to my own, it would.

But suppose -- just suppose --

I don't care
what becomes of my client.

You'd be trumped, then,
wouldn't you?

You mean to grab it
for yourself?

- Did I say so?
- No, never mind.

I think we can come
to an arrangement

now that we understand
each other.

How much do you want?

I want the diamond
which you stole.

Well,
we're in the same position.

So, let us divide.

Our positions could be
hardly less similar.

You're liable to instant
criminal prosecution,

which I can institute
just like that.

I have simply come
authorized by my client,

who bears full responsibility
for his own misdemeanors

to demand the return of a
property which you have stolen.

That is the difference between
our positions, Mr. Hamer.

Now...

do I call a policeman...

or do you give in?

Oh, well.

I give in, I suppose.

Where is the diamond?

At home.

At home?

Mrs. Hamer thought it best
to leave it there

till the hue and cry blew over.

A wise woman.

I thought so, too.

Now I'm not so sure.

Oh?

From the moment I met him,

I realized that Bouvier
was up to something.

He was always talking
about big diamonds

when he was peddling rubbish.

It was obviously a blind.
That's why I asked him in here.

Then I noticed
he was always playing

with this string
around his neck.

Oh, but that we should
take steps --

that was my lady wife's idea.

When we saw it -- Phew!

No wonder I dropped the bottle
and my pince-nez got broken.

It's a wonder I didn't drop
my hat and coat, as well.

You've never seen
anything like it!

I can hardly contain
my impatience.

Shall I wire Mrs. Hamer?

That's not the way.

But how?

We'll go together and take her
by surprise, shall we?

You don't trust me?

Oh, implicitly, so long
as you aren't out of my sight.

Come.
Let's take a hansom.

Is it far?

Bessborough Street, Hammersmith.

You'll find Mrs. Hamer
has a temper of her own, mind.

Well, well,
we all have our failing.

A moment now before we start.
Observe.

You wriggled a little at first.
That was natural.

I know when I'm beaten.

Then know that at the first sign
of another wriggle,

I shall stop it
once and for all.

I understand.

Good.
Then let's proceed, shall we?

Mr. Hamer.

Is your mistress at home, Bates?

Yes, sir.
She's upstairs in her room.

Well, ask your mistress to be so
good as to step down, will you?

Yes, sir.

Mmm.

Nice little place you have here.

Thank you.

I shouldn't like anything
to spoil it.

You've made your point.

Good.

Ludwig,
why have you returned so soon?

Mrs. Hamer.

Well?

A pleasure to make
your acquaintance, mum.

This is Mr. Dorrington
of Dorrington & Hicks,

the private detectives.

How very thrilling,

though I'm sure I can't imagine

in what way we can be
of any assistance to you.

Oh, I like it.

Am I to enlighten her,
or will you?

He wants the diamond.

What? Diamond?

What diamond?

Admirable, really.
She's a treasure.

What do you mean?

No good, my dear.

I've tried everything
I can think of.

Our only comfort
is that we are safe,

so long as we hand it over.

Have you any idea what
my husband is talking about?

Show her the evidence.

Oh, must I?

Nothing I say can convince her.

Oh, how very tedious.

Very well.

Item -- the fragments
of a chloroform bottle,

one of several
supplied to your husband.

Item -- a lens from a pince-nez
belonging to your husband,

dropped last night
during an affray

outside
the Café des Bons Camarades.

You see?

And you let this man
leave your office

with these things
in his possession

after he'd shown them to you?

Oh, now, you mustn't be unfair
on him.

You coward.

You see, I had the forethought
to visit your husband with this.

You might just as well
give in gracefully, Maria.

I have.

Give our guest a whiskey
and soda water, my dear.

Yes, of course.

Thank you, no.
I seldom drink in the daytime.

And not to put too fine
a point upon it,

I couldn't allow either of you
to deprive me of your company

until I have that diamond.

What right does
this man Bouvier have to it?

No good, Maria.

We have to give it to him.

Why?

Because if you don't,
I shall call in the police.

Then we lose the diamond
and everything else, too.

We've got it.

You're bound to give us
at least a half share.

Bound?
Bound by what?

I mean, we're none of us
able to bring morals into this.

And while you may be influenced
by your fear of it,

I certainly don't know
of any law I'm bound by.

In common fairness, then.

Oh, I hate to disappoint a lady,

but I'm here to impose terms,
not to submit to them.

The diamond, if you please.

You will give us something,
surely.

Oh, nothing is sure, mum,

except you'll face the police

if you don't give me
that diamond without more ado.

I shall have to fetch it.

Oh, not again.

I am keeping it elsewhere.

Ah, well, I suppose
the exercise will do me good.

Oh, you needn't
trouble yourself.

Oh, no trouble.

I positively insist
upon accompanying you.

I'll get your hat.

I think we'll let your servant
do that, shall we?

Your mistress's outdoor clothes.

I don't intend to leave you
until this affair is settled.

And as I had to remind
your husband,

argument could be
positively fatal.

Where are you taking us?

Just along here, not far.

And no tricks, madam.

All right.

I give in.

I have been trying to
shake you off.

I admit it.

I see now it can't be done.

I had the diamond with me
all the time.

- What?
- You -- You --

Here.

And there it goes!

Do you know what you've done,
you mad woman?

Yes, I know,
but if I can't have it,

nobody else shall.

What are you going to do?

What can I do?

Locking you up
won't fetch the diamond back,

and killing you won't help me,
either.

Not now I have recovered
my temper.

Now I may as well cut
my losses...

and leave it to you
to punish each other.

Ah, Monsieur Dorrington is here?

- Yes, he will see you.
- Thank you, sir.

Yes?

Two gentlemen to see you, sir.

Show them in.

Don't go, Farrish.

Sir.

- Gentlemen?
- Ah, thank you.

Ah!

Monsieur Dorrington.

- Hello, again!
- Gentlemen!

We are joining our forces.

Oh, I'm delighted to hear it!

It is all a misunderstanding,
huh?

Splendid!

Such a stone is surely big
enough for two cousin to share.

- If you say so!
- Do you have it, huh?

- No.
- Eh?

Well, Jacques has not.

On the other hand,
I know exactly where it is,

and you could get it
as easily as I.

- Mon Dieu!
- Ah! Where?

Well, I hate to introduce
a mundane note,

but there is the matter
of the balance of my fee first.

How much?

Shall we say
a further 80 guineas?

This makes 100 guineas
altogether!

- Between the two of you.
- Ah, don't argue.

Very well.

Seven...

Ah!

80.

Thank you.

Guineas.

Ah. Thank you.

- Now, where? Where?
- Bien.

At the bottom of the Thames.

Approximately in the middle,
I'd say,

where the steps lead down
to the towpath at Richmond Lock.

How do we get it back
from there?

Well, you could buy a boat
and try fishing for it,

but if that doesn't appeal,

you could wait
for some future age,

until the bed of the Thames

is rediscovered
as a diamond field, I suppose.

For this you are charging me
100 guineas?

80 of which,
with my very own eyes,

he is handing to you just now?

100 guineas?

Unh!

Did you see any money
change hands, Farrish?

- No, sir.
- You know very well!

Nor I.

Come to think of it, is either
of these persons known to you?

I've never seen either of them
before, sir.

How can you say that?

We would appear to be
the victims

of a pair of confidence
tricksters, wouldn't you say?

It seems very likely, sir.

I come to see you
about the diamond!

We pay you
to recover the diamond!

Oh, nonexistent diamonds?

Oh, that old one, sir?

Oh, whatever next?

You'd best call a constable.

Right away, sir.

All right, my friend, all right!

But we get even with you.

Oh, that'll be the day.

Who's a big fool now, huh?

Not quite so profitable
as our usual run of business,

but not without its lighter
moments, eh, Farrish?

Yes?

Well, wouldn't you say
that my part in this

went beyond the call
of normal duty, sir?

Yes, Farrish, in all honesty,
I would.

Well, in that case, sir --

Look, I'll tell you what,

I'll overlook your indiscretions
with Miss Parrot, shall I?

Thank you very much, sir.

Oh, not at all, my dear fellow,
not at all.

"Trust."