Yes?
We were wondering if you had any old furniture you'd like to get rid of?
The only things that I'd be wanting to get rid of
is yourself, you dirty trickser.
Cheating people out of their best belongings!
Clear off or I'll set the cat on you.
(Laughs)
Well, that went well.
- Good afternoon, Mr. Monserrat. - Good afternoon.
Miss Fitzgerald is waiting for you in the bedroom.
Thank you.
- Fáilte. - Oh, hello.
Fáilte is Irish for welcome.
Oh.
- I'm Carrie. - I'm Jane.
But then it's a very welcoming country. It's terrific here.
Anything you want here, Janey, you start in a bar
and then someone phones someone else, then you find yourself in another bar.
And then someone's cousin
who knows the daughter-in-law of that fellow who went to live in Kilkenny...
- How are you? It's good to see you. - Mmm.
You're having a good time, are you?
Well, that's for me to know and you to find out.
- Come on in. - Where are Tinker and Eric?
On the knock. They're not having too good a time.
You think Suffolk's been done to death, Wicklow is not far behind.
(Tinker) That'll help.
(Man) Do you have it?
Yes, I have it.
It's downstairs. I'll give it to you when we leave.
That's good.
It's the only way.
I know.
I know, I just wish it weren't.
It's the only solution, my darling.
So you say, Bertram.
I speak as a friend,
with love.
There's the other part of this, of course.
Very well.
On with the motley then, Mr. Monserrat.
Ah!
Bravo!
(Lovejoy) Fitzwilliam Place by Jack B. Yeats.
We think he did it as a companion piece to A Morning In The City,
which, of course, hangs in the Irish National Gallery.
It's lovely.
Have you always had it?
Well, my grandfather was a Sligo man.
He knew Mr. Yeats since the time he was a boy.
And you've had it properly valued?
Oh, yes, we know what it's worth.
Well, this is taking long enough.
Well, it's... heavy.
- It's a van full of furniture. - Half full.
Ireland's been a deep disappointment to me,
we should've filled it twice by now.
Well, remember Liam O'Grady's.
Liam O'Grady's? I suppose he's going to be another deep disappointment.
- Nice to meet you, Carrie. - You, too, Jane.
- Take care. Have a safe journey. - Thanks, bye.
(Chuckling)
- You take of yourself, Carrie. - You, too, Lovejoy.
(Car starts)
(Jane) I hate admitting this, Lovejoy, but I'm very impressed with you.
How long did Sir Douglas give you to find a Jack Yeats?
Well, I told him it would take at least two or three months.
How long has it taken you?
Three weeks.
It's very impressive.
(Eric) Here we go, then. (Jane) To we four.
- We four. - We four.
Ooh, they're right, it does taste different over here.
Mmm. Now, this man here's done so well,
I thought the least I could do is furnish a memorable evening in Dublin's fair city.
May I invite you all to dinner?
- You may. - Cheers.
Oh, one thing's got to be done first. I suppose you wouldn't...
- No, silly of me. - What?
Well, I know you haven't got a suit
but have you the means of looking vaguely respectable for an hour or so?
- I have. - Yes, Tink, I know.
You always are, more than respectable.
But Lovejoy here's the one with the eye, I'm afraid.
He's a very important dealer.
He wants you to authenticate some watercolors.
I can do that.
- What's all this about respectability? - Oh, he's ludicrously conventional.
Proper, you know.
I just thought... Well, I know I'm being silly.
So what's the sweet old-fashioned soul's name?
Monserrat, Bertie Monserrat.
Pardon?
Bertram Montague Monserrat.
The best-dressed con in Europe when I was a lad coming into the game.
That's a long time ago and it's a long story.
Stitched me up like a kipper.
Really?
Ah!
Well, when I mentioned you, the name Lovejoy didn't seem to ring a bell.
Well, it was a long time ago, Janey.
- Well, if you don't want to do it... - No, no, no, no.
I'll do it. I'll do it.
You know me, I wouldn't deliberately misauthenticate a painting, would I?
So come on, then. What did he do?
Never mind.
Just remember he's a double-breasted scumbag.
Lovejoy, I don't think we can be talking about the same man.
Oh, sure. There are two people called Bertram Montague Monserrat?
Look, well, maybe he's reformed.
Not unless he's had a character transplant.
I just think he charmed the living daylights out of you, didn't he?
No, no, it wasn't that.
Do you know who I mean by Maeve Fitzgerald?
(Tinker) She's Ireland's answer to Peggy Ashcroft.
She lives in Driscoll Park.
(Jane) That's right. 0h, she's very unwell - did you know?
(Lovejoy) The papers are full of it. (Jane) She may not live, they say.
(Tinker) For that, read won't.
(Jane) Well, Bertie Monserrat used to be Maeve Fitzgerald's lover -
well, one of them, actually.
(Tinker) Yes, she was never mean in the physical department.
(Jane) No. She put it about a bit.
Anyway, Bertie is still very much her friend
and he's paying for all her treatment.
- Really? - He is!
- I believe you, Janey. - Good.
I just wonder what's in it for him.
(Reporter) Miss Fitzgerald!
Miss Fitzgerald, this way!
(Reporters shouting)
Mary?
Mm.
Bloody woman.
(Doorbell)
Relax.
If they have to ring the bell, then they can't get in, right?
Himself is out shopping, so just cool it.
Ah! The lovely Lady Jane.
Hello. This is Lovejoy.
- How do you do? - How do you do?
Do you know how long we're going to be? I need to tell my driver.
Oh, I should think an hour would cover it. Depends on you, really.
An hour it is, sir.
You're useless, come on!
Come on!
(Tinker) You'll never catch them.
(Lovejoy) I'd say William Wilde.
He worked in Algiers for some time, didn't he?
That's very encouraging.
Yes, thank you for that.
And this... Erm, have a look at this.
Oh, yes.
John Varley.
- They've lovely. - Mm.
You see the way he's arranged the landscape?
It goes all the way back to old Claude, this.
Perfect.
Middle period Varley, at the height of his powers.
(Monserrat) Good. I'm glad you appreciate it.
Now, something to drink, right?
You see how the color's been laid on, broad, uninterrupted washes?
Copley did this sort of thing.
It's state of the watercolor art.
(Tinker) Oh, dear.
(Sighs)
(Eric) I'm well impressed, Tinker. What do you reckon?
(Tinker) Oh, it's wonderful.
It is also very, very old.
When I was at my monastery, old Father Percival tried to teach me this stuff...
and like a fool, I let the old mead fuddle up my Latin.
We'd better get it back to snotty Monserrat.
Well, not straightaway, eh?
- No? - Well, he ripped Lovejoy off, didn't he?
So it's either a loss-adjuster's reward
or he owes us a fat fee for foiling a major robbery.
We'll hang onto it until we can sort out a method of payment.
Right!
Oh, dear, have you been broken into?
No, no.
Well, in a manner of speaking, yes.
You see, my housekeeper, Mary, she forgot her keys earlier on
and she effected an entrance.
I'm just fed up that she hasn't got the glazier to it yet.
Bad luck.
Oh, never mind.
Have you called the Garda? We can give a description.
- What? - They were too quick for us.
- What are you talking about? - The fellas who robbed you.
That's very good of you but nobody has taken anything of mine.
I would've noticed.
♪ She is handsome, she is pretty
♪ She is the belle of Belfast city
♪ She is courting, one, two, three
♪ Please can you tell me, who is she? ♪
(Cheering)
Thank you very much, thank you.
Thank you.
(♪ Melancholy melody)
Eric was all for chasing after them but he never would've caught them.
But why would Monserrat do that?
Why would he pretend that he hadn't been broken into?
Well, perhaps he didn't want anybody to know
he was in possession of something that had been taken.
You mean, because it had been nicked already?
- Possibly. - Maybe.
Well, what sort of thing could it be?
This sort of thing.
We were saving it for you as a treat,
so you could get your own back on Monserrat.
(Tinker) For ripping you off all those years ago.
Whatever the mystery rip-off was.
I'm very touched.
What is it?
- It's very, very old. - (Tinker)... very old.
And very beautiful.
In fact, I think it's over 1,000 years old.
This has been broken out of a holy book recently.
- How do you know that? - I don't know, I just feel.
Do you remember, one of the auction houses sold a single page, script only?
No illuminated letters.
Nothing fancy, just a script from the Gospel of this period,
for over £200,000.
- What? - Oh, I'd love to fix Monserrat.
I need to show it to an expert.
There was a man from Trinity, Dublin,
star of the document department, fellow of the college, doctorate,
but dropped out, joined the travelers.
We used to drink with him at the old fairs around East Anglia.
I heard he'd come back to Ireland.
- What's his name? - Hennessey.
Brendan Hennessey.
- What do you remember about him? - Henna.
He hennaed his hair - hennaed Hennessey.
There you are. A puce-haired expert on Dark Age manuscripts.
There can't be many of them to the punt.
And you did tell me that in this country all you have to do is go into a pub
and ask the barman and he will tell his cousin
who would ask a friend of a friend...
- Would anybody like a refill? - Mm, yes, thanks, Eric.
(Music, clapping)
♪ As I was going over the far-famed Kerry Mountains
♪ I met with Captain Farrell and his money he was counting
♪ I first produced my pistol, and then produced my rapier
- ♪ Saying "stand and deliver... ♪ - Brendan Hennessey.
- Yes - ♪ Musha ring dum a do dum a da... ♪
Used to henna his hair.
♪ Whack fol the daddy-o, there's whiskey in the jar
(Singer) ♪ I counted out his money...
♪ And it was a pretty penny
♪ I put it in my pocket and I took it home to Jenny... ♪
Yeah, County Meath...
Or? Where?
♪ But the devil take the women for they never can be easy
♪ Musha ring dum a do dum a da
♪ Whack fol the daddy-o, whack fol the daddy-o... ♪
Brendan Hennessey, used to henna his... Where?
♪ Musha ring dum a do dum a da
♪ Whack fol the daddy-o, whack fol the daddy-o... ♪
- Where? - ♪ There's whiskey in the jar! ♪
- Hey! - (Cheering)
(Singer) Thank you.
(Curlews calling)
Ow!
- Ow! - Good morning, campers.
Oh, what time is it?
It's time to sort out Bertie Monserrat.
Oh, what did he do to you, Lovejoy?
I'll tell you when we find Brendan Hennessey.
- Who? - Brendan Hennessey, remember?
- Oh, yeah. - Yeah, well he's living in a ruined castle
in County Wicklow or County Meath.
(Tinker) I wish I was.
Well, you're going to look for him in County Wicklow.
That's where Liam O'Grady lives.
And Janey and I are going to look for him in Meath, aren't we, Janey?
- How many castles is that? - That's 22. Only another ten to go.
Oh!
17 bloody castles.
Yes, well, then I reckon Lovejoy owes us a drink, don't you?
Too right.
Large gin and a pint of stout, please.
I say, are there any ruined castles in the vicinity?
Oh, there is, yeah. It's tucked away up there, out of sight.
Well, we're looking for a man called Hennessey.
Yes, with funny hair color.
Have one yourself.
Please.
Oh, right. That's where you'll find him, right enough.
Well, if he's here, we've cracked it.
In only half a day. Lovejoy'll be pleased.
(Arrows whoosh)
Another pint, please.
- You don't look yourself, sir. - We've just been up to the castle.
Huh! You don't want to be doing that, now.
That man Hennessey is an excitable old fellow.
Excitable? He's a bloody lunatic, the mad bowman.
- Oh, well, that depends, like. - On what?
It depends on your point of vantage, wouldn't you say?
You see, from the man Hennessey's viewpoint,
you're the barbarian horde come to pillage.
Tink and me aren't a barbarian horde. How can we be a horde?
Well, now, the thin end of the wedge of the barbarian horde come to pillage, then.
Hennessey, begging your pardon like, has been a man of culture,
an academic fella to his fingertips - Trinity College, doctorate.
A man of learning but of great shyness, too, you see?
So, he tries to stop you.
That would be the sane thing to do seeing as you're the barbarian horde, wouldn't it?
Only, it's not just you, like.
He won't let a man near the place.
And he never leaves it himself.
Well, how does he earn a living? How does he get crumb or crust?
I said nothing about women and priests and so forth, now did I?
Oh, he'll talk to them, all right.
Anything in a skirt.
Would you care to join us for a drink, Father?
Right.
- A double whistle and I need you. - Mm-hm.
- Right. - A double whistle, right.
Oh, forgive me, Father.
Forgive me, Father! Forgive me.
You're forgiven.
Er...
- Love... - Warm.
There's something er...
- Er, Bungay. - Yeah.
I remember. I told you about St. Columba
and you told me about 18th-century slipware.
We were blasted!
Lovejoy!
(Laughs)
You know something, Lovejoy?
I had a dream.
Things were getting really bad, you know?
I had a dream and in it I was told to come here, to the green of here,
and set up my tent, you see, in the ashes of this castle keep.
So I came.
I've been so happy.
Brother rat, brother hedgehog, brother bee,
brother blackbird.
We are a substantial community.
Wild barley. I make it myself.
I guessed it.
You should patent it, Hennessey.
I should and that's a fact.
That's the fuel of the future.
It helps when the demons come.
- The black wigglies, you know. - Can you say that again, Hennessey?
When the back of your head turns into little black worms
and they try to wiggle round to the front.
Oh, and that's when you go for the potcheen?
Sure.
It helps me, you see.
You haven't got this the wrong way round, have you?
- Isn't it after you drink the potcheen? - No, no, no, no.
They definitely come from the back, round to the front.
Whatever you say, Hennessey.
Ah! Can you guess why I've come?
Sure, you wanted a drink. There's nothing wrong with that.
Ah...
What do you make of this?
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God!
Hennessey...
(Clattering)
Er...
Hennessey...
Hennessey!
Perhaps... Perhaps this is why I was sent here.
What? What?
No, you can't have it, do you hear?
No!
- Hennessey... - It's mine! Do you realize?
- Do you understand? - What is it?
Do you realize where this comes from?
No! Where does it come from?
You can't have it!
Aarrghhhhh!
Hennessey?
You all right?
Banged my bonce a bit.
Oh, what are we gonna do with you, Hennessey?
What are we gonna do with you, eh?
(Groans)
Lovejoy...
those black wigglies I was telling you about.
Yeah?
- Funny thing. - What's that?
They've turned white.
The only man in Ireland who can tell me what I want to know
and his black wigglies have turned white.
Well, I reckon tomorrow's it.
If O'Grady won't show us the cottage, then we should forget it.
What do you mean, we? It's nothing to do with me, mate.
- Hang on. - (Whistling)
That's Lovejoy, isn't it?
Shh!
This could take some time. Go and find Jane, tell her to come and pick me up.
(Roaring)
Shove off.
I've hidden his crossbow bolts but you never know what else he's got.
How are the wigglies?
What are you talking about, you stinking thief.
Calm down, Hennessey, I didn't pinch it.
Somebody did. Somebody stole it.
I know, that's why I'm here.
You're the man that knows where it came from.
I am. By God, I am.
I know. And I want to put it back where it belongs.
1200 years, can't you just see it?
The brambles were just being to smother up the Roman villas then.
The gods of Europe were nothing but a bunch of hairy warriors,
barbarian hordes.
Christianity was flickering in the darkness.
Except here. Ireland was the Byzantium of the West.
Have you ever heard of Bishop Fitzgerald?
- Fitzgerald? - That's the fellow. 16th century.
When that serial wife-killer Henry was dissolving the abbeys,
Fitzgerald was abbot of Clonmel.
He was a powerful man, saved many of the abbey's treasures.
One of them was the book of Clonmel.
It was already 800 years old.
I don't where else this can come from.
Have you ever seen the Book of Clonmel?
Don't be so damned silly.
It was always known as the Lost Book.
Liber amissus.
Well, some stinking thief must've found it, that's all.
Where did Bishop Fitzgerald hide the book?
At Driscoll Park.
- Is this going to work, Lovejoy? - Probably not.
You're unlucky, I'm afraid. Everybody's out.
You're not. Customs and Excise.
Miss Fitzgerald's VAT affairs have nothing to do with me.
- And this is nothing to do with VAT. - I'm just the librarian.
Dr Tuttle from Trinity College? Just the man we want to see.
It concerns the attempt to smuggle a national treasure out of the country.
- What? - The Lost Book of Clonmel.
What? From here?
Impossible. Don't be absurd.
- Why? - Why do you think it's called lost?
It is lost.
If you'd done any research, you'd have come across my article on the subject.
I discovered its hiding place here two years ago, it was empty.
Show us, please.
The pleasure's mine, I assure you.
- What do you mean, it's not over? - It's not over.
What does that mean, Bertie?
It means that nothing is certain.
You can't get rid of a major goddamn artwork at a car-boot sale, you know.
I have to deal with sophisticated people, none of them honest.
Things can go wrong.
And has anything gone wrong?
No.
Not so far.
Well, stop being so damn depressing, then.
I found it in this, in Latin - in code.
These two paragraphs here are coded instructions
on how to find the hiding place of the Lost Book -
liber amissus.
The first is for the house that was here in the 16th century
and the second is for the house when it was remodeled.
The code used is an Italian wheel cipher.
It took me a year to decode it.
Isn't it unusual for someone in the theater to have such a scholarly library?
Oh, it goes with the house.
- It's entailed. - How do you mean?
Whoever owns the library owns the house, not the other way round.
How ingenious.
Colm Fitzgerald set it up that way so the books would always stay here.
Miss Fitzgerald's brother gave her the house to live in
when he entered the Church.
He still owns it.
- And he's a priest? - Monk. Father Xavier.
He was following the ancient family tradition.
He entered the abbey at Clonmel.
Follow me, please.
You see, how the house is built over a very much older structure.
Now...
Watch this.
- (Mechanism grinds) - That's incredible.
There. Empty.
The Lost Book of Clonmel - still lost.
Oh, come on, Bertie. The servants are away today.
- Tuttle's at the house. - He never leaves the library.
The tennis court is one thing but this...
You can't see the lough from the library.
Bertie! I want to!
Oh...
Very well, I suppose.
What are you having?
- Ah, how are you lads? - Liam.
Er, can I get you a drink, Mr. O'Grady?
Oh, that's downright kind of you. Just a pint, that's all.
All right, Tink.
An old man appreciates courtesy in the young, I can tell you.
Especially when they're buying.
Come on, Bertie!
He says, "You don't have to whisper, she's also deaf."
You get on down there and I'll show you the few sticks that I have for you.
- All right? - Right, yes.
Ha!
Stay down, Hennessey.
Ahhh! Come on, Bertie,
you spoilsport.
Whoo!
Come back! This is ridiculous.
Bertie!
Whoo!
Maeve, come on in.
Bertie!
(Laughs hysterically)
Bertie, it's wonderful, come on!
(Whooping and shrieking)
Maeve, come on in.
Whoo!
Look, it's dangerous.
(Monserrat) Come in!
That doesn't look like a woman with a life-threatening illness, does it?
It certainly does not.
On to Clonmel.
I'll reckon we'll get that van full after all.
(Jane scoffs)
"A spokesman for Maeve Fitzgerald said today
"the treatment is tough but Miss Fitzgerald is fighting every inch of the way."
Huh!
Morning. Welcome to you.
- Father Xavier? - That's right, yes.
Er, I don't know you, do I?
No, you don't me, I'm Lovejoy and this is Brendan Hennessey.
A poor scholar fallen from grace, Father.
We came to show you something.
Er, come in, gentlemen.
(Sings to himself)
Oh, this is magic!
Oh, er, I'm sorry I can't turn on the lights.
I'm afraid I got a bit behind with me last bill
and the whores cut me off without a volt to me name.
However, I'm sure I have some candles somewhere.
I think we might be able to do a deal here, Mr. O'Grady.
Ah!
It was most difficult decision of my life.
No doubt you will say that the book is a national treasure.
It is but it's a national treasure which my family saved for the nation.
Which I myself rediscovered and had brought back here, secretly,
to where it belonged.
Furthermore, my sister is probably the only human being that I properly love.
And I would say that she, too, is one of our national treasures
and she is in very grave danger.
Well, no, she's not, as a matter of fact.
I beg your pardon?
Can you get out of here for a few hours?
Careful you don't mark it, now.
There's generations of beeswax in that wood,
not to mention generations of O'Gradys' elbow grease.
Liam O'Grady, here you are then. The governor said he hoped you'd be pleased.
I'm a bit previous with this one. The recession has its compensations.
Eric, I hate to say I told you so but...
- But what? - I told you so.
It's just as well you didn't give him that check.
Mm. Where to, now?
Lovejoy said to meet him at Driscoll Park.
I've come to see my sister.
Maeve!
You may come no further. I'm Miss Fitzgerald's doctor.
He's not a doctor, he's a high-class fence.
What are you doing here?
I'm Xavier Fitzgerald, I've come to pay my last respects, Doctor.
Maeve!
Maeve?
Maeve.
(Weakly) Xavier?
Xavier, darling, you've come to see me.
(Gasps)
I'm better, Xavier. They tell me I'm better.
Will you cut it out, Maeve?
- Oh! - Tennis, is it?
The dying woman plays tennis.
I bet you still have a lousy serve. I've long despaired of your serve, Maeve.
- I don't know why you bother playing. - I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
How dare you, Maeve? How dare you?
I have worried myself sick about you.
Sleepless nights, I've wrestled in darkness with my conscience about that book.
I've had nightmares.
Can you imagine what it was like, huh?
Violating that sacred book. How could you let me do it?
Forgive me.
Forgive me, Xavier, darling, forgive me, forgive me.
I'm not strong like you.
I'm just a poor sinner.
It was money, Xavier, darling, I've run out of the blessed stuff.
I've always had so much of it,
it never seemed like a lot but it must've been.
I know now it must've been now I've got none left.
I hardly ever work now.
I must be the most famous pauper in the country.
I'm so sorry, darling, to have caused you pain.
I was in such distress, I never thought.
You never do, Maeve, you never do.
Now come on, get off your knees, for heaven's sake.
Good girl.
Would you be looking for these?
May I take you back, Mr. Monserrat,
to an evening in your Chelsea house many moons ago.
You were selling a piece of Sheraton.
You showed it to me in the candlelight.
The lights weren't working in the house, you said,
because you'd let the house recently and the people hadn't paid their bills.
It looked beautiful in the candlelight, everything was great.
When I got it home, it didn't look so great, everything was wrong.
I'd been had by you, Bertie.
Come on.
- Now you know, Eric. - Know what?
(Jane) Dr. Tuttle?
I'm sorry to have deceived you in the way that we did
but I think you'll find it will have been worth it.
That would be nice, Lady Jane.
Brendan Hennessey. I thought... Well, I don't know what I thought.
I thought he was dead.
He's had an unfortunate time.
You do know how brilliant he is, don't you?
(Jane) Would you be prepared to work with him?
He needs a little patience, perhaps.
(Tuttle) God, it would be a privilege.
Well, Dr. Monserrat, what do you have to say for yourself?
Nothing.
Do your worst. Every museum in the world connives at looting,
at archaeological vandalism.
This was nothing.
Besides, if I'm punished, so will your sister be.
(Lovejoy) I doubt it. You've seen her in action.
Imagine her in the witness box. She'd destroy you.
I'd like you to leave this house now, Mr. Monserrat.
Bertie...
you'll need these.
Thank you.
Also, I'd get a second opinion on those watercolors if I was you.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, there's something I want to show you.
Dr. Tuttle, if you'll be so good.
(Mechanism whirrs)
Mr. Hennessey, Mr. Hennessey!
Liber amissus.
It has been lost for long enough, Dr. Tuttle.
I believe it should be given back to the nation now.
Keep it safe.
The university would be honored if you would work with us, Dr. Hennessey.
Look at that.
Isn't it stunning?
I wonder what Varley would've made of it.
Or Jack B.