(Car engine)
(♪ Lively music on church organ)
Lovejoy, don't you dare!
(Spanish accent) In this town, you dance with the man who brought you!
- Where did you learn to dance like that? - More to the point, where did you?!
Bravo! Bravo! Well done indeed!
My God, Janey, after a performance like that, you should both have a go on Come Dancing.
Don't encourage him. The Reverend Harry Nettles, I'd like you to meet Lovejoy.
Pleased to meet you, Lovejoy. Quite a dash you cut there.
Slinging Janey here round in the finest brilliantine tradition,
if you don't mind me saying so.
And I thought the best you fellas could do was Onward Christian Soldiers.
Ah, Lovejoy, when you've been an army chaplain as long as I was,
you tend to have quite an extensive repertoire - I was always popular at Christmas.
Even played a couple of nights at the Top Hat Club in Cairo.
Are you sure the Almighty approves of that kind of music?
Wouldn't be surprised if He was tapping His feet all afternoon.
I need 60,000 more for the roof.
Take a close look at those.
I've got it in writing from the bishop any superfluous God kit can go in the pot.
One of them's actually stamped 1750.
- They've got to be worth something. - Not 60 grand, that's for sure.
- How much? - I'll go mad and offer you 50 quid each.
Lovejoy, you're being terribly mean.
Well, you buy them, Janey. The pewter market's gone bop.
Have you got anything else?
Well, the medieval triptych altarpiece, maybe.
Black Prince's armor, kneecap maybe.
(Laughing) Sorry, Lovejoy.
We're just plain humble St. Jude's,
not Westminster Abbey, but...
I can offer you a cup of tea.
Let's get the sign up. Come on.
Hey, Steve, you got the hammer?
I say! You men there! What the blue blazes do you think you're doing?!
Whatever it looks like we're doing, Reverend.
You're jumping the gun! You're two weeks early. You still don't have planning permission.
I'm getting onto the council right away.
You can get onto the Holy Ghost as far as I'm concerned
but this is still going up and you're trespassing, so hop it!
- Cheek of the man! - What's going on?
Damn council, all but given permission to put a beastly leisure center up.
Disgraceful, absolutely disgraceful!
Why didn't Alexander do anything about it when I asked him, Janey?
Because there was nothing he could do.
This place has been a field since Roman times.
Kids play in it, we hold the village féte in it, not to mention the donkey derby,
and now these beggars are going to dig it up
and ruin one of the finest Roman remains this country has
and plonk down ghastly squash courts and saunas...
If they've got any leisure, let them come to church, that's what I say.
There's no proof about any remains, even Alexander said it's only hearsay.
What proof do they need? All they have to do is dig it up.
Hold on. What's all this about Roman remains?
Come over here.
Henty. The only remains buried here are his legs.
That's all they ever found after he'd been hit by a Boer cannonball.
- What's he got to do with the field? - He was vicar here for six years.
He was also chaplain to the local militia.
Used to spend his free time with a bad-tempered drunken sextant called Rudge
digging up anything that looked ancient.
Now, he and Rudge dug up part of the field and uncovered a beautiful Roman mosaic
which Henty claimed was part of a Roman palace.
He had Rudge cover it with sand and promised to excavate it properly when he came home.
And only two feet of him ever did.
Lovejoy!
How do you know about the mosaic?
Henty wrote a book about it, one of those vanity publication things.
Then all you've got to do is take the book to the council, they'll have to investigate.
Trouble is, Lovejoy, I don't have the book.
My late wife, God bless her, put it in a bring-and-buy years ago.
I need a fairly largish malted milk.
(Groans)
This is damn rubbish.
Just look at it!
Most of it's lumber. I wouldn't give it house room.
Where's your quality stuff?
I was told you dealt in four-figure antiques.
I wouldn't give some of this stuff three naughts and a one.
It might help if I knew what you were looking for, Mr. Um...
Rosenbaum. I'm looking for a golden wedding anniversary present for my wife,
she's a very discerning woman, is my wife.
I must have something of great quality, something to surprise, amaze and amuse her.
Well, how about this three-leaf French painted screen?
It's only just come in.
It's Arcadian landscapes painted by an artist with an incredible eye for detail.
I don't want a painted screen, we've got a castle full of painted screens,
we're falling over painted screens!
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
I must have been wrongly advised. This is Lovejoy's establishment, is it not?
And partner.
Lovejoy and Catchpole. Well, that's me. I'm the Catchpole in the equation.
(Groans)
He had Alexander chasing the chief planning officer for weeks.
There was nothing on that site that would warrant any kind of investiga...
- Lovejoy. - Hm?
Will you stop that, please?
I'm just checking if he has any more surplus God kit, as he calls it.
(Dog barks)
Ah. I bet you've never had malted milk like this before, Janey.
- Say when. - Oh, I'll just have the milk part.
Ah, mm.
- Never like this when I was a kid. - (Dog barks)
Oh, yes. I know. I've forgotten something, haven't I? Yes, yes.
All right, come on. Waldorf, Savoy. Come on, come on, come on.
You got me into this, Toots.
We're witnessing something that happens with increasing rarity.
The Reverend Nettles has just placed on the floor
what appears to be a 300-year-old slipware dish full of dog food.
If it's genuine it could be worth thousands of pounds which he's not aware of,
because it's probably been in his family for so long he believes it has little or no value.
What does this tell us?
It tells us that just because an object's familiar doesn't mean to say it's worthless.
Alternatively, under the circumstances,
perhaps God, in His infinite wisdom, put it here
for me to find and I've found it.
Look, if you're hungry I could probably rustle you up a sandwich or something.
Do you know what this is?
- Doggy Crunches. - No. No, no. The dish.
The dish!
Oh! The dogs' bowl? Been in the family for absolute yonks.
- Always feed the animals off it. - Do you know what it's worth?
- Worth? - If it's genuine, it could be worth thousands.
If it's genuine?
Are you a gambling man, Lovejoy?
- Yes, he is. - Depends.
Look, I've tried everything else.
I'll wager that you can't get the council to dig up the field and prove
if there are remains of a Roman palace and a mosaic down there.
I never tangle with the kind of people you get down at the town hall.
But - if I lose the bet, and you pull it off...
you get to keep it,
which as you expertly point out, could well be worth thousands.
Lead me not into temptation, Harry.
This is not just a clock, Mr. Rosen-bum.
This happens to be an 18th-century walnut eight-day longcase.
With satinwood marquetry
and a very finely engraved face, with flower baskets and garlands,
made by Edward Martin of Dover, and valued at a very reasonable price of...
Does it work?
Work? Of course it works. It works as well as the day it was made.
Let me hear it. I'd like to check the rhythm.
The rhythm is far more important than the clock.
(Ticking softly)
Perfect.
Oh, that is a precise tick-tocking movement if ever there was one.
Do you hear it, Mr. Catchpole?
It's like a virgin's heart when she meets her prince.
(Chuckling)
What's the date?
1780.
- I mean today's date. - Oh...
Er, the 15th.
Splendid.
Who shall I make it to?
Don't you think you ought to hear the price? It's rather a lot of money, Mr. Rowsen-bum.
Rosenbaum. I asked you who I should make it to.
Um... cash.
Cash? And how much is it?
8,000?
Eight thousand pounds.
Now, I can't be bothered with deposits, so I will leave it for the full amount.
There you are.
Don't cash it for seven days, that will give me time to get the money transferred from Jersey.
- Is all that clear? - Very clear, Mr. Rosenbaum.
- One more thing. You do deliver, don't you? - Oh, yes. We'll even gift-wrap it.
(Both laugh)
Yeah, that's a good idea. Don't forget - seven days.
Oh, and put a sold sticker on it, there's a good chap.
Certainly, Mr. Rosenbaum. (Laughs)
Yes!
You can do it, Lovejoy!
- (Barking) - Waldorf, Savoy! Stop doing that!
You know, Janey... I, er, feel a bit guilty about this.
It's never made any difference before.
What do you think it is?
I don't know. Candelabra?
- No, no... - (Clattering)
Don't put those on there!
(Loud clattering)
Where on earth did you get it from?
Well, from someone who found it under a eucalyptus tree in Corsica.
- Don't tell me. You're going to the doctor's? - Wrong.
Got clean knickers on as well, haven't you?
No.
Well, yes...
No, but seeing as I've just rescued this ailing enterprise from almost certain bankruptcy
and put it back on its feet with a firm, fiscal base,
I'm gonna take the day off, all right?
What you're actually trying to tell me, Eric,
is that you've knocked something out to a punter and you're very pleased about it.
Well, I don't blame you. And I think I know what it is.
It's the George IV nipple shield, isn't it?
Ha ha ha!
Ta-da!
Really?
Oh, no. I'm holding on to this one.
All right, suit yourself. Combien, Eric?
Eight grand. Eight grand cash!
Oh, my baby, my baby, I love you, I love you.
Very good, Eric. Why haven't you been down the bank and brought it back in a brown paper bag?
- What? I wanted to show it to you. - Don't show it to me.
Concentrate on the date, Eric.
I guarantee that that check is a full deposit to be cashed in a week or ten days' time. Right?
Well, a week, actually.
Right. Now I suggest you hop on your bike, go home and change.
Now, Lovejoy, I promised! I've accepted this man's check
and in law, that constitutes a legal contract.
Good luck!
Are you trying to tell me this check's worthless?
No, no, no. What I was trying to say was,
sometimes people have a habit of changing their minds at the last minute.
Morning, Lovejoy! Morning, Eric!
Oh! Going to the doctor's, are we?
We've done that one.
Oh. Now, if this is genuine...
Oh, yes. Vicar of St. Jude's. I've got it on a lease-lend-could-eventually-be-mine basis.
Oh, could-definitely-be-yours basis.
Smoke your nose.
- Eh? - You don't know what it means, do you?
Well, no.
When this was made, income tax hadn't been invented,
so Charles II came up with this wicked wheeze to fleece his subjects called the hearth tax.
Cost you a couple of bob a year for every fireplace you had.
This is a 17th-century satire.
It's Thomas Toft's way of saying "Up yours" to the taxman.
How does he know these things, Eric?
I once shared a flat with a potter who was heavily into slipware.
Well, gather round, girls. The hot antique item of the week is a small tome -
that's still a book to you, Eric -
entitled Archaeological Digging Around Kinley by the Reverend John Henty.
Exciting, isn't it, Tink? But if either of you come up with a copy within a week,
not only do we get to keep the dish,
there's also the bonus of a four-course lunch on my account at the Black Horse.
- Oh dear. - Tinker's barred from the Black Horse.
Well, it's just you and me, then, Eric.
(Jane) Why didn't Nicholas think of the British Library reading room?
My experience with libraries is that the book I want is always out.
- Not here, they've got over ten million of 'em. - Do you want to bet?
They've got a copy of practically every book ever printed in the UK.
You wouldn't find Henty's book in the mobile library, you know.
(Inhales) And the vibes in here - incredible!
Why? Does the underground run underneath?
Don't be such a Philistine. Some of the greatest literary geniuses of all time have worked here.
Thomas Hardy, Charles Dickens, George Bernard Shaw.
Look, come here.
Ah.
See here. Do you know who sat here?
Karl Marx.
Where did Chico and Harpo sit?
Archaeological Digging Around Kinley by the Reverend John Henty. Is it you who ordered it?
- That's us. - Terribly sorry, it's not available.
What did I tell you? It's out, isn't it? Has to be out.
We're not a lending library.
Can't take the books from here, they're for reference only. I'm sorry.
Ah! You mean it's here. Someone got here before us.
According to my records, it's being copied.
- Who's copying it? - I'm sorry, I'm not at liberty to tell you that.
Can't take long to copy. When's it due back?
- It won't be available for at least one week. - A week?!
- Shh! - It would take an hour at the post office.
Look, we've come all the way from East Anglia,
are you sure you can't tell us who's asked for it to be copied?
I'm very sorry.
It doesn't say.
All it says it's an academic request.
- What does that mean? - It means exactly what it says.
Sorry. Your journey seems to have been wasted.
- Know any academics? - All the ones I know have been cured.
Where did you get it from? What's its provenance?
Belongs to the local vicar. Reverend Harry Nettles.
Claims it's been in his family for yonks. They use it as a dog bowl would you believe?
Yes, I would.
You have to be very careful with these things nowadays.
There's a man in Yorkshire called John Hudson who makes them.
Quite remarkable to behold.
Is it a copy?
I'm sure it's right, but I want to make a comparison before I commit myself.
Ralph, can I ask...
Julian! Fetch in Catherine of Braganza.
There's another one, you know, in the Stoke-on-Trent City Museum.
I didn't know that. How would?
Thank you, Julian.
That's Catherine of Braganza?
- I never would have recognized her. - I don't think Charles II would have either.
I rather like the rakish angle of her crown.
Toft appears to have struck it on as a kind of afterthought.
We believe she came from a collection of dishes from Chirk Castle in Wales earlier this century.
We actually auctioned them in 1937.
How much is the smoke your nose worth?
Well, considering it's not totally unique...
I'd put a reserve of ten on it.
Would you run that past me again?
A 10,000 reserve.
Would you now?
And Catherine?
Hard to say. I'll tell you what, Lovejoy.
Why don't you get your vicar chappie to pop his smoker in with Catherine
and we'll stick a free color picture in the catalog.
The sale's in May. What do you say?
Ah, it's not as simple as that. It's more complicated, Ralph.
What do you think this is?
No idea. Have you tried ironmongery?
- Ah, well. Suppose we'd better get cleaned up. - What for?
Oh, I didn't tell you. I thought maybe Covent Garden, then a nice dinner.
Drink maybe a little too much wine.
Then back to a hotel for a nightcap, best offer you'll have all day.
Why are you saying this, Lovejoy? You know I can't do that.
Well, why not? Alex is away again. What are you gonna do?
Go home? Wash your hair? Clean out a drawer?
That's unkind!
Look, Janey, now we're here, why don't you just take a deep breath and say, "Yes"?
You've ambushed me, it's not fair.
I can't say yes just like that. You know I can't.
I have to think about it first. There are serious implications.
Like us being together? Like you enjoying yourself?
Look, I'm sorry, Lovejoy. I really ought to get back.
- You made your mind up? - Yes.
- You sure? - Yes.
- Drive you home. - Thank you.
You know who I'm talking about - Rachel.
She's got frizzy hair and a tattoo of King Kong on her bum.
The frizzy hair doesn't ring a bell.
Used to have a stall in the market. Wednesdays and Saturdays.
Bric-a-brac.
You'd know her if you saw her.
Depends which bit. Don't think I would, Rollo.
Nice clock.
Ah, it's sold. Go on.
Well, she gets herself a lockup in Harry's antique market.
Does a runner, doesn't she?
- Are you sure this clock's sold? - Eric says it's sold, it's sold.
- How much? Eight, nine? - Yeah, around there.
Harry's got a private dick after her.
Says he's gonna sue her.
I would have gone to nine, Eric.
Well, funnily enough, Rollo, I haven't cashed the punter's check.
That's handy. 50s do you?
Rollo, it's sold! The punter's paid a full cash deposit, that's the way it is.
- The punter might change his mind... - You entered into a legally binding contract!
- I'm sorry, Rollo. Let me see the stuff. - (Phone ringing)
They're worth 80 each, I'll take two for the lot.
Two? Oh, come on. Tinker'll smell these at 50 paces.
All right, then. One and a half?
You can have that captain's chair.
- The captain's chair! - Done!
- It's Tink. - OK.
If you change your mind about the clock, nine grand.
(Lovejoy) It's sold, Rollo!
Lovejoy, nine grand!
We'd be one grand up on the deal.
Hold on.
Shh!
Yes, Tink.
I couldn't come up with a copy of Henty's book either.
I might just have found the next best thing.
The silk suit over there is Derek Rudge.
Municipal grave digger... and late sextant of St. Jude's.
He's also the great-great-grandson of that Rudge that dug up half the county with Henty,
and just still might have a copy of aforesaid book.
You're a class act, Tink.
Derek!
This is the Lovejoy I was telling you about.
Pleased to meet you, Derek.
Pleasure's mine.
Tinker tells me you're interested in my great-great-grandaddy.
What's a totter interested in him for, I ask myself.
(Crunch)
That's deep enough, Malcolm.
(Creaking)
Gently does it.
Erm, could we go somewhere else and maybe find ourselves a large one?
I wouldn't mind sharing a bottle of Liebfraumilch with you.
That would go down a treat.
Derek, do you know anything of a story
about your grandfather helping a Reverend Henty of St. Jude's
to dig up archaeological sites and a book written about it?
Yeah, I know all about that.
Old Grandad Rudge and Henty dug up half the county.
We Rudges have buried half the county as well.
Wouldn't still happen to have a copy of that book?
Wish I had a tenner for every bugger who asked me that question. The answer's no.
Got thrown on a Guy Fawkes bonfire by mistake years ago.
Have you ever seen a copy?
I did.
When I were a boy.
And?
That's it.
Does the field next to St. Jude's mean anything to you?
Only that they're going to build a leisure center on it.
About time too. There's nothing for the poor buggers around here to do at all.
- Ah! - That's all.
(Chuckles)
I know what all this is about.
You been talking to old Nettles, ain't you? That old soak.
The walking distillery.
He'll try anything to get that leisure center stopped.
There ain't nothin' in that field apart from cowshit, and he knows it.
What do you mean?
Your old famous Roman villa with the mosaic floor he keeps on about,
the one that Henty and my grandaddy found.
It were nowhere near that field, it were miles away.
Was it?
You know the council estate in Kiverton?
Sort of.
Well, they built it slap bang on top of your Roman villa, didn't they?
I remember it being built but I don't remember a Roman villa.
Well, you wouldn't. It were all hushed up.
Terrible embarrassment all round.
Contractors bulldozed the whole lot into the brook at the back.
If you still know where to poke about, you can find bits of those small mosaic tiles.
- Go on, then! - Get off!
- Hang on! - I ain't it!
Used to be tons of the stuff up here when I was a kid.
Used to pick it up by the sackload.
Here we are.
Genuine... Roman... remains.
That's mosaic.
Looks like licorice allsorts to me.
You can dig all you want in that church field. This is where it was and that is where it isn't.
Came across this the other day.
Thought you might be interested.
Here.
Tell you what.
Hundred quid the lot.
- Fifty? - (Chuckles)
- Twenty-five? - (Lovejoy laughing)
So he dug around in the bank a bit and then came up with these.
What are they?
According to Derek Rudge, pieces of the original mosaic.
Well, if that's the gospel according to St. Derek, that puts its authorship seriously in question.
The only way those bits of mosaic could have got there is if Derek put them there.
Well, he sounded pretty convincing to me.
He would, wouldn't he? He's a very low flier is Derek.
Low flier - liar. I learned that when I was in London.
Whole wretched family are the same.
His great-great-grandfather was suspected of being in league with body snatchers.
Well, I've got no ax to grind with Derek Rudge. I just thought he might have a copy of the book.
Can't even read.
Did he tell you why I gave him the bullet?
- No. - Well, he wouldn't, would he?
Because, my dear Lovejoy, about six months ago,
the local constabulary raided a scrapyard down the road,
looking for a stolen car.
Out of luck as far as the car was concerned, but do you know what they found?
Go on.
Couple of sackfuls of lead coffin plates and bronze coffin handles.
Previously the property of dear departed of this parish.
Out of my churchyard, would you believe?
So, I had Rudge open up the graves, put the stuff back where it belonged,
then I sacked him.
There's a Roman villa or palace or something out there. I know it, Rudge knows it.
No one will listen, not even you.
You can't hack it, Lovejoy. Bring Waldorf's dish back, the wager's off.
It's worth £10,000, Harry.
Good, I'll tell the dogs that.
Hello! Nancy Phelan?
- Yeah. - Lovejoy.
- Pleased to meet you. - Pleased to meet you.
Look, I told you on the phone there was nothing more I could do.
I'm really up against it here, I'm sorry.
I have to have all this logged by next Thursday.
All I wanna know
is why you haven't dug an exploratory trench at the leisure center site at Kinley.
Nettles has put you up to this, hasn't he? For a vicar, he's a real headbanger.
- Well, I think he has a right to know. - Right to know what?
Why you and the council haven't investigated his claim that there could be a Roman villa there.
Look, Mr. Lovejoy. Let me just explain one thing to you.
I only have a veto over planning permission
if I believe beyond archaeological and scientific doubt
that a proposed building site covers important remains.
The Kinley site's worth a shot, though, isn't it?
Come up to the office with me, and I will prove to you
why I have absolutely no reason to believe your vicar.
Then you can take the message back to him
and tell him to stop pestering me and the planning department once and for all.
(Nancy) 205.
There we go. Cromwellian helmet neck protector.
Well, Roman it isn't, Mr. Lovejoy.
Let's try a bit closer. 669.
(Tapping keys)
There we go. Brass spade guinea.
(Chuckles) Well, that is George III, not Antonius Pius.
Would you like to try your luck?
All this proves is that nobody's ever looked in that field.
- (Car pulling up) - That's my husband. Excuse me, please.
The Reverend John Henty.
You see, Mr. Lovejoy, even if I was convinced, which I am not,
to put a trench across that field would cost about £450,
that is if the owners would let us,
and we just don't have that money.
Me, I would excavate every building site going,
but times are lean, Mr. Lovejoy -
museums and heritage come pretty low on the totem pole nowadays.
- Who the hell's that? - (She chuckles)
That is a medieval monk.
I have another 36 of them, and they all need a Christian burial.
Hey, now, just a moment.
The council's gonna shell out for 37 coffins,
and you can't afford 450 quid to dig a trench?
37 black bin liners, actually.
- Well, thank you very much for your time. - You're welcome.
Oh, Nancy, by the way, do you know what these are?
I think they're bits of Roman mosaic.
Well, I don't know about Roman, but it's definitely Italian.
It's terrazzo. You can buy that sort of thing
at the Italian marble shop in Bury St. Edmunds.
You don't say.
Do you know what this is?
Oh, my goodness.
No. Do you?
Wonder what the planning office will have to say about this?
(Eric grunting and panting)
Oh, there's the tall chest of drawers.
Why is she lying about the site, Janey?
And the book was in a British Library envelope right on top of her mail.
Maybe she hadn't had time to look at it.
Well, you said yourself she was up to her eyeballs.
Anyway, how can you be so sure that it was in the field next to the church?
When it comes to map reading, you're not exactly Marco Polo.
Found our way back from London all right the other night, didn't I?
- Oh, I'm sorry about all that. - Oh, no, no, no.
Please don't apologize, Janey, I got a takeaway kebab which kept me up half the night,
but then Marcus Green came round and I got a couple of Goya etchings off him.
- Very cheap. Perhaps you'd like to see them. - Mmm.
Upstairs, either side of the bed.
Nancy Phelan fobbed me off.
She knows there's a villa on that site.
You said yourself - Alex told you that leisure company
has a board of professional directors to hide the true owners' identities, right?
That happens all the time. I think you're reading too much into this, Lovejoy.
But what about Derek Rudge's Roman mosaic that you can buy in Bury St. Edmonds?
You're really intent on building this whole thing into some grand conspiracy, aren't you?
- What next? An assassination? - I'll prove it to you. Show you the book.
Oh, I say, this is rather good, the clock.
- Sold. - That's a pity.
I've got 9,500 for a good clock.
- Try again at the end of the week. - Place'll be finished by then.
Where is it?
Where the hell is it?
What are you looking for?
- You didn't steal that book, did you? - Me, steal?
Would I jeopardize a deal by stealing, Janey?
Eric!
I borrow, I intend to return.
- Eric! - What?!
Have you seen an envelope with the British Library written on it?
Er... Oh, that brown one that was with the bills you wanted me to post?
- Yeah, probably. - The one that wasn't addressed to us?
- Wasn't it? - The one addressed to the archaeological unit?
- Yeah, that's it. Where is it? - Well, I put it in the post.
- You did what? - I posted it back.
- You what? - I posted it back!
- You posted it back? - Yes, I posted it back!
- And why did you post it back? - Because it wasn't addressed to us!
- What's that got to do with it? - What am I supposed to have done now?
Oh, what you usually do...
you prat!
Well done, Eric. You're brilliant.
It wasn't addressed to us!
(Growls)
Anything else, Jane?
No, that's the lot from here.
There is the clock, of course. I'm still short of a clock.
(Eric) Well, Rosenbaum's only got two days. Haven't heard from him for five.
But you're still holding his check, aren't you?
Oh, yes, I'm still holding his check,
and I'll still be holding it this time next year, if you ask me!
I don't think tearing your assistant slowly limb from limb
is something I could possibly condone, Lovejoy.
Wilfred!
Look at him. His arms nearly coming out of their sockets.
Not supposed to dabble with this sort of stuff. Fear of the wrath of God and that kind of thing.
Could always just be water, you know.
Water be blown. They're Roman walls.
Then again, you could be right. Could... Could be a bath, Roman bath.
It's worth a lot of money.
I'll bung it in the safe.
Wilfred! Do you think it could be water?
A Roman bath?
Have you tried the '57 Latour, Mr. Catchpole?
It has a little more body than your Lafite.
Er, not that I recall, no.
Oh, you would remember if you had. It's quite an organoleptic experience.
Oh, I'm sure it must have been, Mr...
Hello, Lovejoy. This is Mr. Rosenbaum.
- Oh. - I'm very pleased to meet you, Lovejoy.
Your partner here has been entertaining me with a bottle of your excellent Lafite.
Has he now? Well, I hope it's to your liking.
Yeah, well, Mr. Rosenbaum popped by to say that we can cash his check in two days
and so would we deliver the clock, so I...
- Oh, of course we will, Mr. Rosenbaum. - Thank you.
Well, I must dash.
I'll call you with the address. And you won't forget the gift-wrapping, will you?
- Oh, no, we won't, Mr. Rosenbaum. - Yes...
Yes.
Yes?
No.
Well, that's par for the course, isn't it?
You've entertained Mr. Rosenbaum with about, what...
ooh, about 75 quid's worth of my Chateau Lafite,
I've also had to give back the plate to Nettles because of you, Eric.
Well, we might as well finish this off, mightn't we?
Eric.
- What are you doing, Lovejoy? - Even the condemned man
is allowed a last drink, Eric.
It's crap!
- I've never tasted anything like it in my life. - It tastes all right to me.
Oh, it would. A palate to you is something you stack bricks on.
We've been shafted, Eric.
- Tastes all right to me. - Oh, Rollo.
Eric here may not be Antique Roadshow material
but wine he does know. Don't you, Eric?
Yeah, that's right.
And the nearest that's been to Lafite is being strained through a sock.
I got it off Dr. Moss, and he's a connoisseur.
And he's a lush and a charlatan, and I want my chair back.
- I've taken a deposit for it. - No kidding, Rollo.
Hang about.
You can have that instead.
Ooh, you've had these cleaned up.
Last time I saw these, Derek Rudge had them on offer for 25 quid.
You know where these come from, don't you?
You wanna be careful, Rollo, you could end up with the Black Death.
Lovejoy, if Derek's deal goes down, he'll be able to buy and sell us.
- What deal is this? - The leisure center.
- In the field next to the church? - Sure.
It's his, it was left to him in a will.
His company's applied for planning permission,
and if he gets it, he's gonna flog it to a developer for a mint.
- You're sure about this? - As sure as my arse points downwards.
Thank you, Rollo. Enjoy the wine and enjoy the chair.
- Eh? - Bye, Rollo!
- Bye, Rachel. - (Gasps)
Yeah, bye.
- I didn't think you knew her. - King Kong's a dead giveaway, Eric.
Looks like the game's up, Lovejoy. They don't waste much time, do they?
All this lot and they haven't even got planning permission yet.
String's not run out yet, Harry. I think we should call their bluff.
- With what? - 37 medieval monks.
Sorry? Having trouble with wax. What did you say?
She has to give the mortal remains of 37 medieval monks a Christian burial.
- Ah. - So how much would you charge?
450 quid? More?
- Easily that. - There you are, then.
Claims her department's skint,
so you bury the monks baksheesh, she digs a trench across the field.
Can't say fairer than that, can you?
Can't be fairer than that, can we?
I can give them a very good spot near the wall.
It's very kind of you to offer, Reverend,
but we've been through all this before.
Look, I'm terribly sorry,
but I can't recommend that conditions be placed on the planning permission.
The Rev'll pick up the tab for the monks, the trench'll be for free.
Changes nothing.
I think you're making a very big mistake, Mrs. Phelan.
Try over to the left, Antonia.
Have you ever requested a copy of a book by the Reverend Henty from the British Library?
No. Why should I?
The penalty for a bribe can be pretty severe, you know, Nancy.
How dare you? What are you implying?
Now, Mrs. Phelan, I'm sure Lovejoy didn't mean it.
I know exactly what he meant.
Sorry, diplomacy was never my strong suit.
The Reverend Nettles and Mr. Lovejoy require escorting from this site,
and are never to be allowed back here again under any circumstances.
Vincent!
You know, Lovejoy, I have a feeling I've seen that young woman somewhere before
but I just can't place her. Annoying, isn't it?
I don't think she'd be one of your flock with a name like Phelan.
No, I suppose not. By the way, I had a from with a charming young man
- called Ralph, from Sotheby's. - Oh, no.
Wanted to know if you had any claim on my smoke-your-nose dish,
asked if I was willing to enter it into his sale.
- You didn't, did you? - No fear.
Planning committee meeting's not until this afternoon,
and as you say, Lovejoy, string's not run out yet.
Got it!
Of course.
Now I know who she is. I never forget a face.
I remember that young woman when she was in her teens,
she was engaged to be married to Derek Rudge.
You're kidding.
Banns read out in church, wedding dress made and paid for, reception laid on,
two days before the ceremony dear old Derek jilted her.
- And this is his payoff to her. - Yes.
He gets his planning permission, she gets a nice fat reward at the end of the day.
How corrupt can you get?
You know, Lovejoy, there's an old Egyptian saying about corruption.
- Is there? - Camel get nose in tent...
body soon follows.
Afternoon, Jane. Afternoon, Lovejoy. Everything agreed?
Sure is. Tinker's gonna ask a very searching question.
Let's get going, then. I don't want to miss a second of this.
I'd start striking camp if I were you, boys! It'll be all over soon!
It's all right, Lovejoy, I can manage. You're driving.
Go on, then, read it out to me.
It's not the eve of Agincourt speech, Lovejoy,
I don't have to read it out, I can remember it.
- What was his name again? - Rudge. Derek Rudge.
Is the committee aware of the nature of the relationship
between Mr. Rudge, the site owner, and Mrs. Phelan, the county archaeologist?
Very good, Tink. Now...
OK, Harry. Ask the question when I nod.
- Right? - Right.
(Man)... that we move to an approval. Shall we vote, gentlemen?
Carried.
Now, we'll move on to application 386,
the proposed leisure center in the church field in Kinley.
Now, we have a fairly lengthy officer's report in this application,
we've had a number of objections,
but as the officer clearly states,
he sees no reason why planning permission should not be granted.
So, I suggest to move as the officer recommends.
So shall we vote, gentlemen, please?
E-Excuse me, er, Mr. Chairman, sir.
I'd like to ask the committee a question before the voting starts.
Yes. What is it?
Is... Is the committee aware
of the nature... of the relation... ship...
I'm terribly sorry about this rather eleventh-hour approach, gentlemen,
but very important information regarding the remains of a Roman villa
on this particular site has come to light.
(Quiet chatter)
Now, if you'll all turn to page five,
you will clearly see that there is evidence of an extensive mosaic.
What do you mean, mosaic?
I'll give you a bloody mosaic!
In the light of this new archaeological evidence,
I move that the officer's recommendation must be refused.
In that case, I move for a refusal.
Excuse me.
You took him right to the wire, didn't you, Nancy?
I wanted him to feel that Jaguar steering wheel in his hands before pulling the plug.
Public justice, eh? Tell me, why the rush?
Didn't you hear what he said? We've got to stop him.
- No! No, I... - No, no, no, I insist...
- Now... - No, I...
Oh, very well. Yes, yes, yes. Yes.
Come along, Lovejoy, we haven't got all day!
No, no. No room! No room!
- Come on, Tink. - I'm not getting on that.
Derek!
Stop it, for God's sake, Derek!
- (Derek) Up yours, Nancy! - Stop it!
You wanna see the most beautiful mosaic the world has ever seen?
Well, take a good look, cos it's coming out of this hole like a jigsaw puzzle!
If there is a villa there, Derek, you're in the pound seats.
Get stuffed!
Ever heard of Fishbourne, Derek?
Eighty thousand visitors a year at two quid a head.
Never again, Eric! Never again!
- You moron! - Derek, I beg you,
look, I could have stopped you weeks ago.
It's too late, Nancy! It's too late!
(Engine stops)
I'll bury you, you bastard!
I'll bury you!
Aaaah!
(Grunts)
You're looking at 150 grand a year for life, Derek.
We're so constituted we believe the most incredible things.
Like the existence of Henty's mosaic.
But once they're engraved on the memory,
woe to him who'll try to erase them.
I think St. Augustin put it very succinctly
when he said faith is to believe what you do not yet see
and the reward of that faith is to finally see what you believe in.
Today's events were the culmination of that belief.
There you go. It's yours.
Oh, Harry.
All right, let me see it.
Heh-heh. Right, Mr. Rosenbaum, one big fat check to be deposited.
(Rosenbaum) No, please, let me go!
Now, gentlemen, you don't understand, I have the money, I have the wherewithal,
I'm the richest man in Europe! I could buy and sell you.
You're hurting my arm. Now, please, let me go.
I'm in process of negotiating for a rosewood davenport.
Oh! Lovejoy.
Oh, damn it, I forgot to give you my address, didn't I?
Well, as soon as this little misunderstanding has been cleared up, I... I...
That's a splendid clock.
Oh, I think it's to be... What on earth are you doing?
I deposited the money only yesterday.
I'm sure you did, Mr. Rosenbaum.
Er, Lovejoy, er, that-that-that...
wrought-iron thing, the candelabra thing, I know what it is!
- Well, what is it? - It's a... It's a...
What is it? What is it?
What is it?
(Indistinct yelling)
Blast.
(Sighs)
I hope this is important. I've canceled my chiropodist on your account,
- nearly broke me neck on your gravel. - It's about the smoke-your-nose dish.
Well, what about it? I consider you won the bet. It's yours, you do what you want with it.
Well, that's just the point. I don't want to do anything with it.
- Don't follow. - I want to give it back to you.
Everybody here's a witness. Well, you will accept it, I take it?
Of course, but whatever for?
Ralph'll tell you.
A similar dish by the same maker has just been sold by us
for £70,000.
Good God.
Isn't he just?
- Pay for the roof. - Exactly.
And you should get about 10,000 in change.
I'm very grateful, Lovejoy, thank you.
(Clock chimes)
Nice clock, Lovejoy. Is it for sale?
Yeah, but it's eight grand, Harry.
Make it ten, and I'll take it.
Now, this is very special, Lovejoy.
What is it?