You all right?
You still haven't given me your number.
No.
Mary...
it's the same for me.
- Honestly? - I was just as nervous as you were.
In that bathroom, I was a teenager again.
These things happen.
I didn't plan it.
Any more than you did.
Don't spoil it, please. Come on.
It's all right.
It's all right!
It's all right.
(Tinker) It's gone in, so it's got to come out.
What make is that?
Boeing?
- Keep at it, lads! - Lovejoy, let's go shopping.
(Camera clicks)
Ah! I suppose you want to know what Lovejoy's doing
swanning around the country in a limo and swilling champagne at - what is it? -
11:20 on a Thursday morning? (Tuts)
Well, I'll tell you.
Greg Veitch of Sydney,
that's Sydney, Australia, where the soaps come from and the Ashes go to.
He's up from Oz to buy a few antiques.
Don't knock it. 10% of whatever he buys.
There's so many unscrupulous types about.
You know what I mean. Part of my brief is to make sure he does not get done over.
Or, if he does get done over, it's me that does it.
- Lovejoy! - Greg!
Excuse me.
Look at the patina on that. Centuries of use, regular polishing.
- You like it? - I love it. It's beautiful.
- Talk me through it. - You testing me again?
No, I'm here to learn as well as lighten my wallet.
Silver, George the First,
approximately...
Uh... approximately 28 ounces.
- 28 and a half. - I've failed again.
- So do we haggle? - There's no hurry.
- It's a bargain. - Sure it's a bargain.
I'll tell you why.
- Not the real thing. - You're kidding. What, in here?
- It happens. - But it's got a hallmark, look.
Yeah, sure it has, but look at the space between the hallmark and the base.
The hallmark's been cut from a genuine piece and then put in here.
- Are you sure? - The hallmark's genuine, coffee pot isn't.
Lovejoy, you're an ace.
We're in great trim.
- But I'm still looking for a eureka. - What's that?
Oh, the biggie, the... the great white. I won't know it till I see it,
but we gotta give it a burl. I can't go home without my eureka.
That's what I'm here for.
(Police radio)
Is your husband at home, Mrs. Russell?
No, he's in court.
Identification. May I see some?
Do you recognize him?
- No. - His name is Blaine.
Jerry Blaine.
- Are you sure? - Yes, I'm quite sure.
Ahem.
You...
You had lunch with Blaine last Tuesday.
That's not true.
No.
- Were you following me? - No, we were following him.
Why?
- He has form. - He's got a prison record.
- Recently released from Wormwood Scrubs. - I don't believe it.
It's true. We thought he had a meet fixed with another villain.
- I don't know what to say. - Blaine was killed last night.
He was shot with a small-caliber pistol.
It's what's known as a virginity protector. It's a lady's gun.
- I see. - A known villain with form,
still on parole...
and a judge's wife.
I don't understand.
- Are you accusing me? - Do you have an alibi for yesterday?
Say, late afternoon, early evening, four till nine o'clock?
Yes, I... I think I was here.
- Yes, I was. - Alone?
- Yes. - Can you prove that?
- I... I don't know... - (Phone)
Yes, I think I could. I need...
Excuse me.
60950.
Yes, he is. It's for you.
Shand.
Yes, guv.
Yeah, I'm with her now.
Uh, no, not yet, no.
Yeah. Yeah, will do.
It's the super. He wants a result.
Look, Inspector, if this story gets out...
Yeah, but it's not a story, though, is it?
It will ruin my marriage and damage my husband's career.
Well, he's already had one heart attack.
- This could kill him! - What are you suggesting, Mrs. Russell?
I'm not suggesting anything. I'm...
I'm begging you not to take it any further.
You see, the problem is, you lied, didn't you?
You said you didn't know Blaine.
- I was frightened. - Cliff?
Well, you're the guv'nor.
- You didn't know Blaine was a criminal? - I knew nothing about the man at all.
I believe you.
Now, at this stage, it may be containable.
Your name could be left out the frame for a price.
- Cliff? - Not my decision.
He plays by the rules, does our Cliff.
You see, the trouble is, it's gone higher than us. There's others involved.
- How many others? - The super, the Blaine family brief.
- The police lab that processed the photos. - Us.
I haven't any money!
Mrs. Russell, please!
This is my husband's house.
He handles the financial affairs.
I've got a few shares, a PEP,
and a small amount in a building society.
- That's all! - Then sell off a few baubles.
- It shouldn't be too difficult. - If you move quickly...
- Very quickly. ...we may be able to persuade the super.
(Greg) Did Jameson make all of these? (Lovejoy) Yeah.
- All of them? - What do you reckon?
- They're fun, aren't they? - I think so.
One London dealer bought a lot of them.
Uh-huh.
- Jamie? - Hey, Lovejoy!
- Greg Veitch. - G'day.
- How are you? - Fine.
- How are my lamp brackets? - Ready by the end of the week.
- Bit meat and potatoes, isn't it, brackets? - Nine to 12, work. Two to six, play.
- I'll show Greg around, OK? - Aye, carry on.
- Hear about the Giacometti frauds? - Twenty million quid's worth.
- What happened? - Somebody nicked old Alberto's moulds.
- Copies have been popping up all over. - How naughty.
No chance of us getting hold of any?
No, no, you really should see our place. It's on the beach.
Uh, three stories, view of the ocean from every room.
10,000 squares, six bedrooms, five state-of-the-art baths.
- Oh! A lot of room for two. - We've got Viv's oldest with us.
- Vivienne's your wife? - Yeah. She's my third.
I always marry little women. It takes fewer furs for the coat.
- Was yours a family business? - Lady Jane,
my old man was so dumb, when he died they made him into a stock cube.
He couldn't pour piss out of a boot with instructions on the heel.
Oh, sorry. Being a bit crude there.
(All) Oh...
(All) Ah!
(Man) I say!
- Oh! Absolutely beautiful. - (Applause)
- What's this? Guy Fawkes? - It's someone's birthday.
Oh, it's Mary Russell.
Anybody you don't know?
Excuse me. I must just go and say many happy returns.
(Greg) That's a class act.
Where do you fit in, Lovejoy?
Family friends.
- You never thought of giving Oz a try? - No.
Oh, you should. It's changing fast. Ten years ago they used to joke
what's the difference between Australia and yogurt? Yogurt has a culture.
How can you tell that Jesus wasn't an Aussie?
They searched, they couldn't find three wise men or a virgin.
They don't do those jokes anymore. Just as well.
It wasn't a birthday. It's their anniversary.
Lady Jane, it's time for you to sing for your supper.
Oh, dear.
Well, singing never was my strong suit.
Jane, Lovejoy has worked wonders, but I still need two or three special pieces.
I've got the crown, the pearls and sundries, but I've not got the coal and ore.
- Are you with me? - Mm. Not easy.
If I go home without it, Viv will throw a tantie.
- Oh, thank you, Andrea. - You're welcome.
What about Fairford Hall, Sir Max Spence?
Ah.
- Who's he? - Impoverished aristocracy.
He's just been clobbered with death duties.
Well, if I have another one, you're going to have to stay over
because I won't trust myself to drive you home.
- In which case, don't have another one. - Yeah, I knew you were going to say that.
Well, if you won't do the indecent thing...
Did I tell you, by the way, about this old edition of the Karma Sutra I've been reading?
- You mentioned it. - And this chapter on the Hastini,
- or elephant woman. - Lovejoy...
And this position known as "the twining of the creeper."
- Lovejoy! - Wait till you've heard about it.
- Stop it! - It's to do with honey... and black pepper.
- No. Lovejoy! - Black pepper.
- Something wrong? - I don't know.
What is it?
Silver spoon. Probably the one Alex was born with.
- How did that get in there? - I have no idea.
It's a Carolean sealed top...
initialed with a "W". No, no, I beg your pardon, that's an "M".
I've never seen it before in my life.
It certainly wasn't in my jacket before we went to Andrea's.
It certainly doesn't come from any restaurant.
Somebody has put it in the wrong jacket.
Mm.
- Lovejoy. - Yeah?
What exactly do they do with black pepper?
Janey, Janey, Janey...
Number five was the judge and Mrs. Russell. Remember the cake?
Every calorie, Andrea. You got a number for him?
No, but he's the Honorable Judge Raymond Russell or something.
- Right, two to go. - One couple, table three.
I never saw them before.
- Plastic? - Cash.
- Quaint. - Two fifties, I remember.
Yes, so would I. Right, that's one to go.
One businessman, table one. Mr. Simpson. In the corner.
- He's in your line of business. - Really?
(Speaks Italian)
- Got a number for him? - Yeah.
Bishop's Stortford 658463.
- And he's booked for lunch. - Thank you, Andrea.
Hell of a lot of fuss about a spoon.
I don't like it when people give me things.
(Eric) Hello, Lovejoy Associates. Can I help you?
- Hello, Eric? - 0h, hello, Lady Jane.
Hello. Tell Lovejoy I'm on my way to see Sir Max, Sir Max Spence,
and I'll ask if today's a good day for him.
- This afternoon? - Oh, will that be suitable?
Yes, I'm free.
- Silly sod. I put it in the wrong pocket. - Careless.
- Very. - Why didn't you mention it to Andrea?
I wasn't sure where it happened. I just knew I was a spoon short.
What does the "P" stand for?
Uh... My wife Pat.
- Patricia. - Ah!
- What's wrong? - "P" is an "M".
Ah.
(Tinker) Don't let him see what you're looking at. Move down, Eric.
- It's George the Third. - That's right.
Peter and Anne Bateman, 1790s.
- Isn't it a beauty? - Twenty-odd ounces, I'd say.
Anybody would be thrilled to own something like that.
- It's not my eureka. - No, it's not, but it's worth picking up.
Don't go straight to it. We'll look at something else first.
What's its price, Eric?
- A.B.E.O. - That's a big help.
- Eight hundred. - Start at five.
- You'll be lucky! - Six and they might take you seriously.
Eric, people always take me seriously.
Yeah, of course they do, Greg. Of course they do.
(Mrs. Russell) I put it there.
Why?
Because I needed to know if I could trust you.
- Just ask Jane. - I didn't know how well you knew her.
This could be an expensive way of checking people out.
I was desperate.
Am desperate.
You need help?
I need to sell some spoons and replace them with look-alikes
good enough to fool most people.
Please, sit down.
Ahem.
Including the judge, for example?
And at a fraction of the cost.
- How long have you got? - 24 hours.
Not me you need, Mrs. Russell, it's the Magic Circle - all of them.
- Not a chance. - There are other things.
With respect, there's the Van Der Elst in the hall.
No, the spoons are mine. The other things aren't.
How much cash do you need?
Several thousand.
And you really can't talk to your husband about any of this?
You can talk to me about it.
Will you talk to Jane?
Thank you, James. We won't be needing you again today.
- Thanks, fella. - Thanks, Greg.
Nice doing business with you.
(Tinker sings)
Aha!
- Who is he? - What?
The other man.
- How did you know? - Oh, Janey, please.
Lovejoy, she and Ray are devoted. They're been married for 17 years.
- They've got all this together... - Janey, get to the point.
An indiscretion.
- Well, of course. Go on. - With a crook.
Prison record.
And now, he's been killed.
Is she a suspect?
Two policemen from the Met have offered to help.
How?
By omitting her name from enquiries for a large consideration.
Janey...
this stinks. I don't believe a word of this.
Lovejoy, Alex and I have known them for years. Mary's such a sweet woman.
I'm sure she is, but just because a friend of yours committed an indiscretion...
Yes?
- It's nothing to do with me. - Well...
- I said we'd help. - We?
You.
Thank you, Jane.
It's a vase.
Rare?
Yeah, it's as rare as rocking-horse droppings.
Argy-Rousseau. Cost me 11,000.
That's 22 Australian.
It's a beaut.
No, I just want to know if I need an export license.
Were you going to put them on the policy?
Hang on, just a minute. Can you go a bit further down here?
I'll keep it in the safe and you talk to the airline about shipping.
You got trouble, right here in River City with a capital "T" and that rhymes with "P"
and that stands for..."police."
I'm too young to go to prison, Lovejoy.
And I'm too old.
Tinker, where's your sense of adventure?
I left it behind in the NAAFI in 1953.
Lady Jane will be very upset about this.
- Is she in on it? - Her and Mary Russell, like that.
- Well, you never said. - Didn't think I had to.
Anyway, Jane and I told Mary to stall them, tell them she needed more time.
They were going to call today, you see.
We were going to set up a meeting and we were going to be there.
- We? - We.
To do what?
Surveillance.
Eric is our security expert after all, Tink.
- But he didn't finish the course, Lovejoy. - (Eric) Nearly!
- You want to bug the meeting, right? - Oh, my God.
Well, it's easy-peasy, because I can get one of these electronic briefcases, right?
You open it up, there's a microphone inside...
- Get one! - Wilco.
And after the meet... we tail 'em.
Oh, my God.
- I'm on the Harley, right? - I'm in Miriam.
- Tink, that butcher's van. - Oh, my God!
- Melgrave's. You remember. - That's the one. See if you can get it.
- Must I, Lovejoy? - Well, why not?
The smell of animal blood makes me sick.
Oh, my God.
This was designed by Archibald Knox.
- The Celtic tracery is beautiful. - (Greg) Seen many like it?
Oh, it's very rare.
Uh, Sir Max, what did we decide about the Pugin?
Twenty-five thousand.
- Twenty, wasn't it? - No, twenty-five.
Twenty.
Enameled cabochon.
- What do you think, Greg? - I like it.
- Three. - I'd have thought two.
- Three. - Uh, Greg, a word.
- I make the deals, you sign the checks. - If you say so.
That's the way it works.
- Two grand, top whack. - Oh, I'm not so sure.
All right, then.
Oh, don't be too hasty.
I can live with two.
(Clock chimes)
Oh, Greg.
Excuse me.
Burne-Jones.
- What is it, young fellow? - You can ask Sir Max.
Um, do you have a toilet I can use?
Yes. Straight out and first turn left.
- What do you think, Greg? - That's terrific.
That'll look great over Viv's desk.
(Whispers) Eureka.
You beaut.
No point hanging your noses over that, boys. Not for sale.
- What is it? - Tell him, Lovejoy.
It's a Benin bronze.
The only other place you'll see one is the Berggruen collection.
It's a head for a king's altar. "Oba" they call them.
You know, Benin City was sacked by the Brits in 1897.
Oh, they still make them, but not like this.
- Where's Benin? - Bendel State in Nigeria.
Must be worth a power of money.
- Oh, it's worth a million. - Why won't you sell it, then?
Well, I would tomorrow, but the Department of Trade vetoed an export license.
I can't apply again for seven years.
The Waverly Criteria.
- What's that? - Red tape.
Can't flog things of national and cultural interest, blah, blah.
And knowing that, domestic buyers think they have me over a barrel.
Sod 'em!
- It's stunning. - Yes, it is, indeed.
Well, come on, Lulu.
"Do not go gentle into that good night
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light"
- Lovejoy? - Hm?
Eureka!
Greg, you heard him.
Lovejoy...
I want it.
(Phone)
60590.
Yes, Inspector.
Um, not here. I have the decorators in.
The Green Man.
No, but I'll find it.
Two o'clock.
Yes. Yes, I'll see you there.
Goodbye.
- Well done! - I feel sick.
Leave it to Lovejoy. He'll sort it out.
(Sighs)
Yes, it's terrible, it's terrible, terrible.
(Phone)
Veitch.
Sir Max.
I was just thinking about you.
Cymbidium Rievaulx Hamsey.
It's beautiful, isn't it?
It's not a rare orchid, as orchids go,
but it's a terrible blighter to grow.
The Benin bronze. You wanted to talk about it.
Oh, very direct, Anzacs. Always noticed.
I've been thinking.
And chewing it over.
Metal. I'd rather buy plastics.
There might, just might,
be a way round our problem.
Our problem? I approve.
We needn't bring Lovejoy into it, need we?
- No, I see no reason. - Well, you know what they say,
- a commission saved is a... - Is a commission saved,
split two ways - your way, my way.
The trouble is that it's...
It involves a slight...
How shall I put it?
A slight bending of the law.
Well, what are laws for, Sir Max...
if not to be bent?
(Farmer) Friesians, Hereford...
Oh!
(Indistinct conversation)
Thank you.
The same principle as the Trojan horse.
- I don't understand. - Well, hide it inside something else.
Oh, I see! Right, right.
Is this legal?
Er, well...
not entirely, no.
The damn Department of Trade, they won't grant me an export license.
Dreary farts. Can't appeal again till '99!
- I shall be dead by then. - It is yours, aye?
Of course it's mine!
That has been in the Spence family since the 1890s.
The question is, can you do it?
Oh, aye, I could. Just no' sure that I should.
How much?
- For all three? - Yeah, the lot.
Um, two grand?
Four. I'll give you four.
That help make your mind up?
You got a good look at Shand and the car, right, Tink?
Tink?
- I'm not a baby. - Oh, you look terrible.
I'm not well.
Hi. Sit down.
- Would you like something to drink? - No.
No, thank you.
So where is it?
I haven't got it.
- What? - I need more time.
- I told you... - You didn't give me long enough. Please.
If you haven't got the money then our report has to go in with the photos.
Inspector, please. Just another 24 hours.
Nah.
Listen, I'm selling some silver.
I should have the money by the end of today.
That, plus some shares I'm selling. Well, it'll be enough.
What difference can one day make?
Please!
All right.
- Thank you. - I'll call. Same time tomorrow.
Be ready.
I promise.
The thing is, gentlemen, I can't fire another bronze round it.
Why not? Cos it might crack the original.
(Sir Max) Good point.
So... I'll have to model over it.
Oh...
Plaster!
Yes, why not? That'll do fine.
And then when that's dry,
sculpt it, and then...
special paint.
How much? One, two...
Aye, six coats.
What for?
- Why? - To harden it up.
Give it that coldness. I mean, have you ever kissed bronze?
Doesnae kiss you back, does it?
That's right. Not a problem.
- When can you start? - Whenever.
- Now. - Do I no' get a cuppa tea first?
Must you?
Excuse me.
Do you no' trust me?
I trust everybody.
Once.
- So where are they? - I had to pop off into a hedge.
You're cracking up, Tink.
- Hi, John. - Afternoon, ma'am.
- Thank God that's over. - Oh, darling, how was it?
Awful.
- Did anything go wrong? - Not that I know of.
I just feel so...
so soiled...
having to crawl to him.
Oh, don't tell me.
The smell of blood!
I've got some Scotch in the office.
Scotch!
- Eric's tape. - Tape we hear on the way to the Tower.
(Eric) Surveillance at the Green Man pub.
Field agent E Catchpole. 1400 hours, 17th of the seventh.
(Farmer #1) Seen some of them horses at Hunsdon Mead?
(Farmer #2) Average eat last year was 77 kilos.
(Farmer #1) Those Frenchman, though, they made over an hundred.
(Farmer #2) Your frog always were an hungry bugger.
(Farmer #1) Famous for it.
Your froggie always was an hungry bugger!
I don't like it much...
Marvelous!
Marvelous.
There I am out risking life and limb and here you are having a laugh.
- How did it go? - Have I got news for you.
Where did he take you, you hungry bugger?
(Imitates farmer) Him too fat, he be...
To a council estate on the outskirts of Ipswich.
I thought he was in the Met.
No, that's what he told Mary Russell.
Wasn't really a policeman at all, was he, Eric?
- Well, how do you know? - Instinct. Gut reaction.
Well, he used to be in the job.
Used to be a DI, didn't he? But he got thrown out over three years ago.
How did you find that out?
Well, I don't suppose you ever were a paperboy, were you, Lady Jane?
As a matter of fact, no, I wasn't.
Well, if you ever want to find anything out,
go to the local newsagents. They're like the Ministry of Information.
- Very good, Eric. - Mind you, I had to dig deep.
- How deep? - Well, an ice-cream cornet,
quarter of jelly beans, fizzy pop and a comic.
For a nipper.
No, gentlemen.
This way, please.
- Good afternoon. What a lovely day. - Who the hell are you?
- Lovejoy. Who the hell are you? - Er, what is all this?
Ah, Shand.
I have here some lovely piccies of you and Mrs. Russell at the Green Man.
They're all of you and Mrs. Russell at the Green Man. Plus some background music.
- I need more time. - I told you...
You didn't give me long enough.
Please.
Well, if you haven't got the money then our report has to go in with the photos.
Enough of that.
"After a protracted illness, Detective Inspector Michael Shand
"was declared permanently unfit for police work.
"He will retire on December 23rd, 1988."
"Detective Inspector Shand was suspended from police duty in 1987."
So what do you want?
What's the penalty these days for impersonating a police officer?
All right, Lovejoy, you want to make a deal?
My piccies for your piccies?
Yeah.
And you never bother Mrs. Russell or her husband again.
Shut it.
Shand? Tape.
Wait till they play the rest of it.
Abracadabra!
Fantastic.
Cold, huh?
- All right to lift? - Of course.
It doesn't often happen. I'm speechless.
Lovejoy? Greg Veitch.
This is farewell and goodbye. I had to go back sooner than expected.
Sorry we didn't crack the eureka. Leaves something for next time, eh?
Thanks to you and the boys for your help. You should've got the check by now.
As they say, your blood's worth bottling, sport.
If you get to Sydney, first shout's on me.
Give us a thought when you next get your leg over Lady Jane.
- Lovejoy! - What?
(Squeaks)
Charlene, get me on the first flight out of Nelson.
And listen, have Torchy Jacobson call me from England, will you?
Ah. Jameson?
Sir Max.
How about a couple more bronzes, dear boy?
(Greg) Count the hours, Lovejoy.
What am I talking about?
I'm talking about a Benin bronze. I'm talking about $600,000 Australian.
I'm talking about Sir Max Spence and Jameson and you!
Because you are the bastard who introduced me to them!
The Mafia have a saying, Lovejoy.
"Never hate your enemy, it affects your judgment."
But I'm finding that very hard.
(Knocking)
He's not here!
He must've had a call from Sydney as well and decided to go away for the summer.
Lovejoy, about those few days' holiday you owe me.
Come on! We're going to see Jameson.
- OK, Eric? - Heeey!
(Police radio)
Arson. They reckon the whole place reeked of kerosene when they got here.
- What about Jameson? - No sign of him.
(Phone)
Personally, I'd sooner be dead when I'm cremated.
Lovejoy?
Hello, Lovejoy?
Want to know what happened to Jameson's studio?
I said frighten him and they thought I said "fry him."
Tell Sir Max that's what happens to drongos who cross me.
You're next, Lovejoy.
Janey.
Max!
Oh, Lovejoy.
Ah, Max!
Is anything wrong?
- The Benin bronze. - What?
- What happened to it? - I've no idea what you're talking about.
Sir Max, please.
You made a deal with Jameson, didn't you?
- Fantasy, Lovejoy. - Someone set fire to his studio.
- Who? - Greg Veitch.
- He's gone. - No, he's back, and...
Excuse me, Jane.
...wants your balls on a fork.
Oh, my goodness.
What did you do with the money?
- I spent it. - All of it?
- All. - What on?
I sent it straight to the Inland Revenue. Death duties.
That's great, Max. What about the bronze?
- In Jameson's studio. - There is no Jameson's studio.
What was it doing there anyway?
Come on, Max.
Tell us.
I sold it.
Again?
To a Chinese gentleman.
And a Russian.
And to an awfully charming Nigerian.
(Eric) What have you found?
- I'm not sure. - Could it be?
Looks kinda like it, eh?
Million quid's worth?
(Eric) Are you sure, Lovejoy?
I mean, are you sure you haven't just cooked this up? It was just a thought.
I have an auntie in Lyme Regis pining for a visit.
Your chair, Lovejoy.
It's like a fairy on a Christmas tree.
What's that smell? I've smelt it before, recently.
Kerosene.
Oh, my God.
I mean, what are we going to do? How are we going to get this bloke off our backs?
"If you can keep your head whilst all about you are losing theirs..."
Yeah?
- I've forgotten the rest. - Oh!
Shand.
(Knocking)
- Mr. Veitch? - Yeah.
We're police officers, sir. I'm Detective Inspector Shand. This is Detective Sergeant Redston.
We're making some enquiries, sir, about a fire.
A suspected arson attack at a local sculptor's foundry.
- You look well for a dead 'un, Jerry. - What do you want?
What do you think I want? Half of what Veitch gave you.
And this will be the final farewell performance, won't it, Inspector?
Ahem.
Plus the negs.
- Ta. - Er, Lovejoy.
Your negs. I'll give your love to Mary Russell.
Still thinking of popping down to Lyme Regis, Tink?
Oh, there's no great rush. She can wait till summer goes.
And those days off, Eric?
I don't think so. There's too much to do around here, isn't there?
Oh, there's far too much, yeah.
- Can I ask a question? - Certainly.
- As long as it has to do with black pepper. - No, it certainly has not.
Whatever happened to the Benin bronze?
It melted in the Jameson fire.
Yeah, it's probably stuck to the sole of some fireman's size 12 boot.
- What do you say, Lovejoy? - Being an incurable romantic,
I think it's like the Maltese Falcon. We haven't heard the last of it yet.
- What? - You heard what Jameson said.
But I'm a divvy, I sense these things.
Oh, put the kettle on, Lovejoy!
Ha-ha!