Another "Terry Leather Low Mileage" done.
Good you're glad, but have you all sorted out for your wedding tomorrow?
Yeah, of course, Terry.
New suit, two buttons, 9 inch fun flaps.
Nice. Ingrid will like that.
So, you're getting married tomorrow, Ingrid?
I hope so.
Go on, get off now.
Go make yoursef more beautiful than you already are.
If that's possible.
Terry.
Promise you won't get Eddie too legless tonight, will you?
At his stag do?
We're just going round the pub, couple of pints and a sing song.
Oh, fuck...
Fuck it, what are you trying to do to me, eh?
I've got Jessul's money.
The problem is, it's tied up in these cars,
and you wankers want to trash the lot of 'em.
Mr. Jessul doesn't care about your inventory.
Mr. Jessul wants to know that he's getting paid.
Any day, I swear, Perky.
What did you call me?
I called you Perky, Perky!
Everyone calls you Perky, and him Pinkey.
- Pinkey and Perky? - Yeah.
They're fucking cartoon pigs on the telly,
what, people call us that behind our backs?
Well, theyre not gonna say it to your face, aren't they?
Well, you just bloody did!
Yeah well, you got me rattled. I'm very intimidated.
Don't make us come back again.
Not every customer is a satisfied customer.
What are you doing round here, my dear Martine?
What are you doing tonight?
Tonight? Tonight is Eddie's stag do.
Taking him out for a drink. Why?
I've got a proposition for you, Terry.
A proposition?
Can you meet me at the Player's Club before you see the boys?
And I'll fill you in on the details.
Make it 9 o'clock.
- Morning, Gale. - Good morning, Tim.
Top floor? Summoned by the gods?
Something like that.
Got up for your new mistress this weekend?
I don't know what you're talking about, I'm a married man.
What do you think, am I presentable?
Not sure about the tie, darling.
What's this? "Peace and Love"?
Too much of that nonsense and we're both out of a job.
Michael Abdul Malik. Calls himself Michael X,
in homage to Malcolm X, his American counterpart.
The Pinko press would have us believe this Michael X
is a crusading champion of the poor and oppressed.
And the black Robin Hood of Notting Hill.
The richer, whiter and more famous, the more they fall over him
The truth is, he's a slum landlord, a drug dealer
and a vicious pimp who should have been in prison years ago.
Are you not charging outrageous rents to my brothers and sisters, Mr. Brown?
I'm charging the same as your slum-lord friend Lew Vogel.
Ten quids a week is too much for these shitholes.
You know,
I always wanted to meet a white man by the name of Brown.
You know what this is? It's a slave collar.
And a white man made my mothers and fathers wear this
to bend them to his will.
Can I bend you to my will, Mr. Brown?
You sure got a faithful dog now, Michael.
Michael, I don't think we should get our hopes up here.
Kidnappning, extortion,
assault on this man Brown here,
as well as your previous problems with the law, I mean...
You could be looking at 10 to 20 years.
I don't think so. I am smarter and better protected than whitey thinks.
All rise.
It seems Michael X has managed to keep himself out of jail
by threatening to release
damning photographs of a certain... royal personage.
Until we get our hands on these snaps, the police can't move.
The public prosecutor won't move...
and the home office doesn't want to know.
Has anyone actually seen these photographs?
Yes, but at the minute I'm not at liberty...
to say who that person is.
We've had Michael X under surveillance for quite a while.
He keeps a safe deposit box at the Lloyd's Bank...
in Marylebone.
We believe that's where the photos are located.
Seems straightforward enough.
I'll send a team into this bank
and take whatever he's got in this safe deposit box.
That would have to be sanctioned at the highest level,
and that's not going to happen.
Do you see our problem?
There can be no connection to 5 or 6.
So you want me to come up with something
to avoid getting accountability for anyone.
We'd welcome suggestions, Tim.
And if it all goes pear-shaped, I assume it's my arse on the line?
You're young and ambitions, Tim. A chance to make a name for yourself.
Thank you, Sir.
Excuse me there, miss. Can I have a word?
Yes.
- Where have you been? - Morocco.
- I'll have to check your underwear. - Be my guest.
- We found what we're looking for. - Found what?
What were you looking for?
Oh Tim, thank God!
I'm in a spot of bother.
- What have you been up to? - Nothing much. You?
I was in Morocco recently.
- Business or pleasure? - Bit of both.
Drinks are on me.
So, we're gonna sit here all night, making small-talk?
I know you, Terry, and I know your mates.
You've always been looking for the big score,
the one that makes sense of everything.
- I have it for you. - What?
- A bank. - A bank... as in robber?
What would you know about a bank?
I've been seeing this guy who runs his own business.
Security systems.
Next month, they're installing new alarms in a bank at Marylebone.
Seems like the trains have been...
setting off the trembler alarms in the vault
and they've had to turn them off.
So for a week or so, they won't have any.
Now why would he tell you all this?
We were having a laugh about it.
Imagine if half the villains in in London knew about this, he said.
And I thought, I know half the villains in London.
I grew up with some of them.
Look, me and my mates might have been involved in the odd bit of
skullduggery.
Can you see us tooled up,
taking on a bank like the James gang?
This isn't about waving a waterpistol at a cashier's head.
This is about getting into the basement where the deposit boxes are.
Hidden, secret wealth. Money and jewels, they're safe to steal,
- 'cause people won't report it. - Oh, no no no.
You can't talk about this here.
It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Terry.
We can't pass it up.
I didn't expect this from you tonight, Martine.
What did you expect?
I'll have to think about it.
You better get off to your stag party.
Thanks for the drink.
Eddie tells me his brother invited you to the wedding.
- Are you going? - I'll see you there.
Can I get a Campari and Soda, no ice? - Yes, sir.
Thank you.
Well, Tim sweety, what do you think?
- Is he offering? - Maybe.
Cheers, gorgeous.
- So you coming in? - I don't know, it's late.
Do you need to run home like a good little boy?
I guess I've got time.
- What exactly do you do? - Bit of this, bit of that.
How did you and Hakim meet?
I met Hakim in Los Angeles last spring.
He was rasing money for a black Montessori school
and writing his life's story.
And what an extraordinary life it has been.
The book is called "From the Dead Level, Malcolm X and Me. "
I've read the manuscript. Hakim is a poet.
The voice of the black soul.
A friend is throwing a thing next week
to celebrate the launch of Brother Hakim's book,
and you are all invited.
Hakim, tell us more about your book.
It's about being born black in America.
Can any of you imagine what it is like to be born a black man in this world?
Can any of you white women imagine what it would be like
to bring a black baby into this world?
Good evening, sir.
What, you freakhead? Why are we even having this conversation?
We're not-
Here's your beer.
We are not bankrobbers.
Maybe that's why we could get away with it.
It's a bit daunting, isn't it?
You know what scares me more?
Living and dying with nothing to show for it.
You know how old Mozart was when he composed his first minuet?
- No. - Five. Five! A fucking minuet!
And how would you know that fact, Terry?
Because it's tattooed on that stripper's arse, Kevin.
What the fuck's it matter how I know?
It's a fact and you're missing the point, Kev.
What I'm trying to say is,
we stop fucking about and stop...
picking the shit from under our fingernails.
Shtum, lads. Coppers at 12 o'clock.
Damn...
What are you two doing here, personally?
I thought you were way past being a bagman, Jerry.
Your associate Sonia Bern has raised prices at that knocking shop of hers.
- £120 quid up from a £100. - And your point?
A rising tide lifts all ships, mate.
I think we are owed some money.
- Cause even Sonia's can be raided. - Yeah, you would do that, wouldn't you?
You'd kill the goose that lays you golden eggs.
Wouldn't that be dumb, would it?
But then again, everyone knows coppers are dumb.
Now you can do one thing for me.
You stop your collegues from having their boys night out in my clubs.
They're loud, they're lewd and they expect free oral sex.
You know what, that's disgusting. Ya know, most of them have families.
We'll pass the word along.
Lew, you tell your greedy little bobbies...
to find their perks elsewhere.
No one is going to bother me.
My patrons could have a lot of these old coppers put out to pasture.
Well, I'd say, spread the wealth around and keep the peace.
Five quid a week extra.
- It's all it's worth. - I'll pass it on.
- Drysdale. - Urquhart.
Lord Drysdale, can I offer you a drink before your session?
Very kind of you, Sonia.
- Good to see you. - As well, Urquhart, as well.
Good girl.
Tighter! Yes, that's a good girl.
- Everything okay? - Yeah.
Louder.
Louder!
Come on.
We want a kiss, what's wrong with you?
- I just can't. - Come on...
Give her a snogging, babe.
Hello.
Saw you in a magazine the other day.
The Campari ad on the beach. Nice.
Must have been an old one, I'm not modeling any more.
I don't know why. You're still a knockout.
- What are you doing these days, Dave? - Me?
A bit of film work. Extra, you know.
And you, Kevin? You're still snapping, I see.
The wedding photos?
No no, these are just photos for the family.
Fashion is my game. Fashion and passports.
- And the odd snap of a wayward husband. - Thank you, Dave.
So, what's the verdict, boys?
We're interested.
First thing we should do is take a look at the place,
suss it out.
- Maybe open a box of our own. - I've already done that.
We can go and have a look tomorrow.
Tomorrow it is.
Heads up, lads.
- She's adorable, your little one. - She is off.
And what a gorgeous flower girl your eldest made.
Thanks. Catherine.
I do envy you.
- Kev, you want to dance? - Yeah, come on.
It was lovely to see you all.
- Ciao. - Ciao.
- All right, mate. - All right.
She envies me... She's being sarcastic?
I suppose what she meant was, money can't by what we have.
Didn't you use to go out with her?
No love, that was Kevin.
He had this big thing for her.
- And you didn't? - No.
Not like me and you, love at first sight.
Oh yeah...
I remember that night, you were with your mate Audrey at that disco.
I saw this gorgeous little bum in a pencil skirt
and I thought: "Oh, I've gotta have that. "
But that Audrey she already had a bloke, so I pulled you.
Cheeky sod.
Daddy, daddy, come and dance with me. Come on, dad.
Hands off me.
Good morning.
I'd like to access my safe deposit box, please.
- Martine Love. L-O-V-E. - Certainly, madam.
- You're an actor, right? - That's right.
I did a couple of films for you, Mr. Vogel.
Yeah, right.
So what are these films you're in?
Forget about it.
Go on.
Technically, it's what you'd call...
pornography.
- You're joking? - No.
So you've been going around town with a
12 inch mutton dagger hanging down your pants?
That's nothing to be ashamed of.
Nice.
Fake.
For the posh party at the weekend.
This is the one. The lease is available.
Finally.
- How do I look? Good? - Not your best, Dave.
Here we go.
So how come you've got the inside dope on this place, Martine?
She knows this bloke, runs a security company.
Bloke? Is it serious? Are you getting married?
He is married. All the best ones are.
Here we go.
Marylebone Road and Baker Street, on the corner here is the bank,
next door is the Chicken Inn, and at 189, Le Sac.
In the back here is an underground car park
with direct access to the shops' basements.
We can pull in here from Glentworth Street...
into the car park
for dropoffs and pickups without being seen from the street.
We'll dig a tunnel from the basement of the shop
under the Chicken Inn and pop up in the safe deposit vault.
I've got a question.
What do us lot know about digging tunnels?
Nothing.
But I know a man who does.
- So what do you reckon, Bambas? - What do I reckon?
I reckon I know you guys, but I don't know her.
Don't worry about Martine, she's solid.
We go way back.
Terry, you have been up to some mischief in your time
but this, this is serious shit, my friend.
Don't you think it's a little out of your league?
Maybe it's time we stepped up to the first division.
There's going to be reinforced concrete under the vault.
We're going to need a thermic lance, a jackhammer, a generator,
lights, ropes, cables, the works.
It's about 40 feet of digging before we're under the bank.
We can hire some Micks from Camden Town to do the digging
That's brilliant, Dave.
Why don't we just pay their national ensurance contributions?
And then you have to get dirt on your Tommy Nutter suit.
- This way, Michael. One more shot. - This way.
Thank you, that was great.
- What are your plans? - I am returning to Trinidad...
to liberate my brothers and sisters
from the enslavement of the British colonialists.
What about the charges you are facing? How can you leave England?
They are liars and cowards.
If they had anything against me but their fear of me,
I'd be tried and jailed.
See you later, Bambas.
But we gonna need a front man on this,
someone who can sign the lease on the shop and looks the business.
I know someone, Guy Singer. Calls himself "The Major".
But that's a lot of bollocks,
He has got this white posh accent if anyone comes nosing about.
A bit tight under the arms, dont you think?
Traditional fit, sir.
One can't raise ones arms above one's head.
It tends to inhibit any impulsive acts of surrender.
I'll be right back, sir.
What on earth are you doing here?
Got a bit of business for you, Guy. You'll be tempted.
Sit down, luv.
What do you think you're doing?
Taking the E for a test drive.
Tell your boss, he can have his inventory back
when he settles Mr. Jessul's debt.
And it'd better be soon
or we'll be back to tap through his kneecaps.
If I was you two, I was looking for another job.
Lovely.
- Cheers. - Cheers.
So, come on then, what don't I know? Romantic dinner on a Monday night?
Look honey,
I'm going to be working some strange hours over the next week or two, so...
don't ask me what I'm doing, because I don't want to lie to you.
What are you doing?
Look...
I know I've caused us a few problems but those cars aren't selling
All I was trying to do is get ahead of the game.
- This thing's gonna put us there. - OK.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
And a better place.
It's for all of us.
For you and the kids.
And how afraid do I have to be, Terry?
It'd be the best smart thing if you wanted to stay with your aunt,
in case things to custard.
So, we are settled. 25% to run my girls till I return from Trinidad.
It's all right, you don't have to worry.
I'll look after your little flock of birds like they were my own.
As long as you remember they are not your own.
Lew, while I'm back in Trinidad,
I can arrange for shipment of some high grade gunja.
Not interested.
You want my opinion?
I think drugs are responsible for...
the moral decay of this countries' young.
Smut, smut and more smut.
That's my special area of interest.
You should think about it.
With these goodies you can make a lot of dough,
especially the police in your pocket.
I am paying enough bung as it is,
but probably not as much as you're donating
to be permitted to leave our fair shores.
Not a shilling! I have something so special, I don't need to pay anyone.
And what would that be, Michael?
Sorry, Lew.
Well.
Whatever it is, you crafty bugger, I hope you're keeping it safe.
Yes, as safe as it can be. In the place that you recommended.
- You're late. - Sorry.
This is the Major. Major Guy Singer.
Final member of our team.
I don't know this man. Who are you?
None of your business.
No secrets around here. The Major is a con artist.
Usually elderly widows.
There's no need to bring that up.
Now he's the official new owner of Le Sac.
Handbags and leather accesories for the discerning lady.
Nice.
I told the district planner's office about the remodelling.
They gave me the specs for the sewage, drainage, gas and power lines.
We'll have to go deep to miss that lot.
What's this for?
That is the thermic lance. It cuts through concrete and metal.
We're doing this, right? I mean, we're bloody going for it.
Let's see what this thing can do.
Good idea, Kev. Give us a demonstration, Bambas.
Ok, hold this. Hold it. Here.
Kevin, go stand over there by the oxygen.
Here we go.
Turn it off!
Off! Off! Off!
Not good.
They know what they're doing, these people, do they?
Absolutely. Professional criminals.
What's the worst case scenario?
They get caught and go to jail.
No possible connection to us.
What about this model you're screwing?
What promises have you made to keep her in line?
None that can't be broken.
Look, she's our only tie to the bank operation.
If things do go belly up
it'll only take one cut to sever the knot.
What's Gale Benson up to?
I believe she's working her way into Michael X's inner sanctum.
Could you sign that book, please? I've got them finally together.
Daddy!
I am so glad you decided to come.
This is my father, Sir Leonard Plugge.
Always happy to meet Gale's new friends.
Her new name is Hale Kimga.
It's an anagram of the letters of our names:
Hakim and Gale.
- And your name is? - Hakim. Hakim Jamal.
Right.
Excuse me...
Hello, gorgeous.
So, where's the author?
He's over there, signing his masterpiece.
Why don't you both drop by the house this weekend
and introduce Mr. Jamal to mother?
Sorry daddy, can't do that.
We're popping on to the islands for a while.
- Let me get you a drink. - Good luck with your book.
- So you've read this book of his? - You must be joking.
Right. You're probably undercover,
spying on Black Power's insidious threat to the British way of life.
That's very funny.
Tell me, is our little enterprise still shipshape?
We're currently on schedule, Tim.
We're taking over the shop on Friday afternoon.
I know if this stuffs up I'm in poo poo land.
We have a blue Transit van that's just pulled up.
"Clacy Builders" on the side.
And we have one man entering the shop.
Construction crew, for Le Sac.
I've got a question.
What do we do with all the dirt we're gonna dig out of the hole?
That's all been worked out, Dave.
We'll dig another hole over there and put in in that. Over.
If we're to get the job done before the bank opens on Monday morning,
we better get a wriggle on.
Want to do the honours, Martine?
This is it, here we go.
Watch your nails, Martine.
Yeah, yeah.
Let's get this store to rock.
- Some racket there Alf? - Bloody hell! What's going on?
Dave, come on, mate.
Dave, you need a break. I'll take over.
Cheers, Major.
Heads up!
- Where's Dave? - No idea.
Where did you get to?
Just checking the door was locked.
Of course it's locked, Dave. I locked it.
Hang on. What we got here?
A copper.
Christ, he's not going in there, is he?
- I'll go. - Shit! Dave, Dave, get back.
- I only wanted- - Stop! Hold it down!
Someone is knocking. Someone is at the door.
Stop, Stop! There's somebody at the door of the shop.
Bambas!
Hold on!
There's somebody at the door.
- Look, I don't mind going. - It's my job.
Coppers.
It's the Old Bill.
Good evening. You're working late?
Around the clock, officer. Expanding our storage.
Trying to complete renovations for the grand...
If you don't mind, sir.
Excuse me?
You using a jackhammer down there?
Yeah. You had some complaints, officer?
Yeah, from some of your neighbours.
We'll try to keep it down, alright?
Right.
I wonder how they talked their way out of that one.
Tim, Quinn here.
We just had a copper going into the shop.
Not sure why, but he's gone now.
All clear.
We need a lookout, someone on a roof somewhere.
- We've got the walkie-talkies. - What about Eddie?
He's a good lad, we can trust him.
No. Look, we're not cutting anyone else in.
We won't cut him in on the loot.
We'll give him the car lot.
Hopefully I won't need that headache anymore.
- My God, not again. - Get up there, Major.
Cover that up!
It's not the coppers.
- Yes, can I help you? - Delivery for Dave Shilling.
- And what is it? - Chicken and chips.
I see...
- Takeaway for Mr. Shilling. - Thanks.
- You can't be serious. - I was starving.
Radio is in the bag, binoculars as well.
There's a bedsit on the top floor of this building,
paid for the week.
The ladder will get you to the roof.
You're in from Liverpool, looking for work.
I don't have a Liverpool accent.
Then don't talk to anyone, Eddie.
I'm up on the roof, and...
I've got a good view
of all directions, over.
Are you in position, Nightjar? Command HQ here. Acknowledge.
Yeah, I'm in position. I can see the front of the bank,
Marylebone Road,
Baker Street, I can see everything really well.
All clear on the Western front, Guy. Over.
- No names, Eddie. - Sorry, Dave.
Hey you delinquent. What have I told you?
No idle chitchat.
Sorry, T- Over.
Fuckin' hell...
Wakey wakey, gentlemen.
I'll keep an eye on the shop from here on.
You two go down to Glentworth Street.
Guard the parking garage exit.
Okay.
Nightjar here, there's some fellow looking through the window.
Hang on.
Wait, hang on. He's going. He's going.
Yeah, he's gone. Over.
Roger, Nightjar. Over and out.
I want to go to the pub, grab some more smokes.
Do you want anything?
A pack of Seniors.
There you go, sir.
Two packets of Rothmans,
Two Senior Service and 8 bags of crisps.
Okay.
Hello, gorgeous. Are we still on track?
We had a scare last night. The cops came round.
Can't you pull rank and make sure it doesn't happen again?
No, we can't show our hand. We're invisible, remember?
- I wish I was. - How about your friend Terry?
Where is he planning to carve up the proceeds?
Shit.
- A pint of ale, chief. - What's wrong?
I needed to take a break.
Who's that you've been talking to?
I wasn't. He was trying to chat me up.
Does happen, you know.
- Right. - There you are.
- Cheers. Keep the change. - Thank you.
Now, what are you doing here? Are you following me?
No.
- I just wanted a pint. - Then enjoy it.
- Hello, Gale. - Where have you been?
You're rather impressed with our friend Hakim, aren't you?
I know rule #1: "Don't get emotionally involved"
That doesn't mean I can't enjoy my work.
You certainly do.
What does your father think of your consorting with these radicals anyway?
We are not amused.
Of course, if he knew what I was really up to,
he would have a heart attack.
Here you are. Credit cards and cash.
If he does have copies of the photos and negatives there,
they will be hidden.
Find them. Destroy them.
And then get out.
Michael X thinks he's safe, tucked away in Trinidad.
That will all change if we're successful here.
Just remember, Gale: He's a nasty piece of work.
He's a crazy dope-smoking lunatic pimp extortionist, that's what he is.
Everything okay, Nightjar? Anything I need to know?
Yeah, everything's all right, mate.
Listen, what if I want to go for a pee up here?
I don't know. Use your imagination.
Stay off the radio unless you see any Old Bill, all right?
Yeah, all right. If I see any Old Bill, I'll let you know.
I'll speak to you in a bit. Over.
Hey Bambas.
What's all this brickwork?
I don't know, it wasn't on the plans.
Fuck!
Terry? Fucking hell!
Terry! Bambas!
Terry, talk to me!
Terry!
Oh fuck..
Terry, talk to me!
- Are you all right? - I think so, yeah.
What happened?
The floor just caved in.
Bloody hell, Terry. Don't do that to me.
- I thought you was a goner. - Yeah.
Give us a light, Dave.
What's down there?
- It's a pile of skeletons. - You're joking.
Let's hope they're not the last gang who tried to take this bank.
Latin. Roughly translated:
Lamb of God, forgive us our sins.
- How do you know Latin? - Catholic school.
The Bleeding Heart sisters of eternal misery.
Interesting date. 1665.
You all know what year that was, don't you?
The last time West Ham won the cup?
It was the great plague of London.
This must be a burial chamber.
A crypt where they dumped the bodies.
Well, if these poor bastards had the plague,
they could be infectious.
I don't think so, Dave.
This crypt goes all the way under the bank.
It'll put us in the vault quicker.
And how we'll gonna do that?
Concrete.
Floor of the vault.
Time to get paid for all our work.
Right.
If we hit the restaurant by mistake, we'll be knee-deep in fried chicken.
I'll be happy if we don't hit the sewage.
When are you guys going to hit the vault?
I'm freezing my tits off up here. Over.
In the army, soldiers would pull on
their puds to keep their blood flowing. Over
What regiment were you in, the Royal Corps of Wankers?
Over.
Yes, we welcome new members. Roger, over and out.
Emergency operator. Which service do you require?
- The police, please. - Putting you through.
Police here. Can I help you?
Yes. I'm a HAM radio operator
and I think I may be overhearing a robbery in progress.
We're in! Dave, get the ladder.
We're gonna move into the vault after we take a break.
We need to let the fumes clear out.
You're having a laugh, ain't you? Let's go in now.
Dave. Nothing's going nowhere. I can hardly breathe in there.
- Nightjar, are you there? Over. - Nightjar here, over.
We're in. Over.
What, in the actual vault?
Yes, in the actual vault. Over.
Great, great. That's great news. Over.
We're taking a break. We're knackered.
I need to get some sleep.
Getting some shut-eye while the fumes clear out. Over.
Lucky you. My eyes are like organ stops. Over.
We can smell the money now. Over.
Look, money may be your god, but it ain't mine, all right?
I want a warm bath and a cuppa tea. Over.
You'll get your cup of tea. Just your odd time.
Lucky you. My eyes are like organ stops.
We can smell the money now.
I rang 4 other police stations before you,
but nobody took me sriously.
...said it was probably a hoax.
How strong was the signal, Mr. Addey?
I'd say they were within a 10 mile radius.
There must be a ton of banks in that area.
And when was the last time you picked them up?
They've been quiet for about an hour.
What about releasing the tapes to the radio and TV?
Maybe somebody can recognize the voices?
No, no.
If they hear themselves, they'll stop transmitting.
No, we should keep listening.
Maybe they'll reveal where they are.
Alfie, you stay here with Mr. Addey. I am going back to the station.
You call me if you hear anything.
Hi.
You scared the piss out of me.
- What are you doing here? - I couldn't sleep.
Yeah, I'm a bit jangly myself..
I just had to come and have a look. Our future is in those boxes.
So, what are you going to do with your share?
Vanish. Martine Love will cease to exist.
Why, do you think if you vanish you'll become someone else?
At least no one will know who I was.
Why did you pick Kevin and me? You could have found better thieves.
For old times' sake.
Must be old times you spent with Kevin,
not me.
Kevin has it in his mind that we had this passionate affair.
The truth is, it came down
to 4 chinese meals and a roll in the hay.
And that was a long time ago.
All right,
let's make some money.
Look at this!
Look at all this cash.
Fantastic!
Guys? Gold bars.
Diamonds. Diamonds!
Guys, what's going on?
How would your wife fancy a tiara?
Too bloody right.
Get the gas. The gas.
Look at it. Hold it.
- Emerald. - It's like winning the Pools.
Dave. Give us a hand with this one.
- What's so special about this box? - It's my lucky number.
All yours, me lovely.
- There you are. - Cheers.
Holy shit. You know who that is?
It's Princess Margaret.
Terry, anything for the widows and auctions funds?
- Will that do? - God bless you, you're very generous.
Look, we have to have some sort of system.
You don't know what you are throwing or what you are keeping.
Yeah, but we know what money looks like.
We're not throwing that away, are we?
How long does it take to rob a bank?
We're just about to end this job now, yeah?
Not yet.
Have a look at this.
No, nothing.
Still nothing.
Sergeant, what we need is something
that will motivate the robbers to go on air,
- give away their location. - Right..
Bait to lure the fish.
No, they are not there, not transmitting.
They are not there, sir.
Move to the next bank, Sierra Lima 2.
We still get nothing, Sarge.
Ok, unit Sierra Lima 2, move to the next location.
My God, the stuff that some people collect...
What have you got there, Terry?
- '47. - '47?
Sounds like a good year to me.
Will you pass it round?
Come on, Terry. Give us some.
Got it.
Catch!
Oi! Yeah...
Here, Major.
Get it down.
Listen fellows, they are onto you.
Listen, they're onto you. - Fuck.
Coppers are on your doorstep.
Speak to me, Nightjar.
Coppers right on your doorstep.
Listen. Hang on, hang on... they're not going in,
but they are not going away. Wait, wait.
Sergeant, we just heard the thieves' lookout
say that there are police outside the bank right now.
- Which bank? - I haven't got a clue.
We've got patrols outside half the banks in the West End.
Keep listening, we need to pinpoint exactly where they are.
Wait. Hang on.
Guys, a black car just pulled up with some bloke.
He's going up to the front door with the cops.
Guys, he is unlocking the front door.
They are going in. Shit! Over.
Oh no. Shit.
- Where is the vault? - Downstairs.
Follow me.
Looks fine.
Are you sure everything is all right? Yes, yes, it is.
- I want to look inside. - Tell the timelock.
Can't be opened until tomorrow morning.
Well, it isn't my bank that's being robbed.
Sorry for calling you on a Sunday morning, sir.
- Not a problem... - Thank you.
Fellows, I think they are going away.
They are gone.
We should get out of here. They could be coming back.
Yeah, right. We need to let Eddie know.
Nightjar?
No!
Fuck!
Shit. Fuck.
Shit. Shit.
Are you there, Nightjar?
The ambulance reports it's outside the Lloyd's bank on Baker Street.
Nightjar, can you hear me?
You gone to sleep, Nightjar?
Fucking hell...
Nightjar, are you there?
Look, if he's not picking up, something is wrong.
You're right.
So, grab all the cash and the jewels
and get the fuck out of here.
What about our gear?
We cant leave anything that might incriminate us.
We come back for it if we can.
What about all the other boxes?
Doesn't matter, Dave. Put everything in a bag and lets go!
All right, let's move it. Come on!
- There's nothing here, Sarge. - Are you sure?
There's no mention of the ambulance.
Nothing. Move on, Sierra Lima 2.
- Let's go! - Finally.
Come on, let's go.
The van is leaving. We will follow them. Over.
Stop them as soon as possible.
Open the door!
- What have I done, guv'nor? - Open the back door, come on.
Some fella paid me 50 quid to pick up his van
and drop it at Heathrow airport.
Jesus Christ...
- Wher's the van? - Change of plan.
Precautionary measure.
I've organised alternative transport.
- Why? - None of us have met your boyfriend.
He's all go to include you on the back of the job.
Could've set us up.
We bloody well pulled it off.
Done with military precision, hey, major?
Now that I am fiscally secure,
I think I'll promote myself to "Colonel".
You know what I am going to do?
I'm going to buy my mom a new house. Something with a garden.
I thought you would be off to Copenhagen, Dave?
- Why would I go to Copenhagen? - Heavy cock, sure hunt.
You know what I'll do? I'll chop off one more
and then I got one like your little pinkey.
How did you find this place then, Terry?
A bloke and I used to run a...
chop shop here.
He's in the nick now.
How could you lose control of the operation?
I thought you were on top of this thing.
Sir, it worked.
They did the job. They robbed the vault.
And we have no idea where the fuck they are.
You know, an ugly thought has just occured.
Lots of money in that vault, juwelry, bonds.
You and your sweetie haven't cooked up something between you, I hope.
- You think I'd betray you? - There are precedents.
Two of our former colleagues now live in bloody Moscow.
Let's hope they don't have another bidder.
She won't cross us. She knows what we're capable of.
How does she even know who the hell we are?
I'm sure she will contact me when she comes to her senses.
Going anywhere else would be a death sentence.
You better hope she does, Everett.
Or it may be yours.
Here you go, Bambas. That's your lot.
"Never washed after our magic moment. Snookie. "
Hey, Dave. Look at this.
I've seen this bloke on the TV. The old perv.
I have seen this face before. He's an M.P..
Lord... whatshisname, you know. Always wears those poncey bow ties.
Well, on that picture he's not.
I believe this is one of your old movies, Dave.
Piss off, Kev.
Timely suggestion.
I believe I'll take my share and be on my way,
before the bank opens in the morning
and the shit hits the proverbial fan.
I'm with you, Guy.
I don't have to remind you:
Keep a low profile. No buying Aston Martins, Bambas.
The only thing I'm buying is a one-way ticket back to Cyprus.
- I'm never coming back. - We should have a reunion.
- 20 years, the Savoy Grill. - Yeah, right, maybe for you, Guy.
I still wouldn't let us lot in.
- Bambas. - Goodbye my friend.
Take care of yourself, mate.
Major.
Be lucky.
Bambas.
Goodbye, old chap.
Okay, what's going on? You two have been staring
daggers at each other since we left the bank
What is it? Lover's tiff?
I think Martine has got something to tell us.
Hang about. That's Princess Margaret.
Fuck me...
Where do these come from?
You knew the exact box this stuff was in, Martine.
You'd better come clean and tell us what this is really about.
About a month ago I got busted at Heathrow on a drug charge.
This guy I know said he would fix it to keep me out of jail,
if I do him a favour.
He knew I knew some villains.
He wanted to set up a robbery to get these.
Fucking hell!
That would be the bloke you met in the Player's Club.
Same guy you said was trying to pick you up in The Globe, right?
- Yeah. - Well, so who is he?
He's a guy I met at the Sombrero Club.
He works for some shady outfit in Whitehall.
- Oh no, no. You mean MI fucking 5? - Or 6?
We could get seriously nicked here, Martine!
No, we couldn't.
All Tim wants is the contents of box 118.
The deal with him is, we get to keep everything else.
And you believe that?
You put your trust in some prick we've never even met.
You lied to us, Martine!
We were sitting ducks right from ther start.
Thank you very much.
You think it's a coincidence that you get busted for drugs
and your Tim just happens to have a plan to rob a bank?
This can work out.
We give him the photos and everything else in that box
and we get to keep the rest and we're free and clear.
These people are regular cozzers , Martine.
They are above that.
They do things coppers can't.
They think we've seen these photos, we're expendable as dog shit.
You know what?
I've seen our shots and I know...
we're either dog shit or about to be dog shit.
I'm out of here.
I'm not waiting for a load of spooks and coppers to come cracking my head.
I'm splitting like Guy and Bambas.
It would be better if we stuck together, Dave.
And why, Tel?, 'cause we've been so truthful with each other so far?
- Dave, come on... - No, I'm going home, Kev. See me mom.
And then I'm going far away, as far as I can get away from you.
We'd better get out of here, too. In case Guy and Bambas get picked up.
Let's split the lot of this.
There may be someone else in this shit to cause us some more grief.
- One of those, mate. - Here you go.
- Keep the change. - Thanks.
- They overheard our radio chat. - Fuckin' hell...
"Police last night were trying to home in on a £300.000 bank raid. "
They still don't know what bank it was.
- 300 grand? - It's a bit more than that...
More like 3 million.
- Hello? - Martine Love.
Thank God. Put her through and then run a trace.
It's me.
What happened? Where the hell are you?
London.
I know, of course. I mean, where?
I know what you mean.
Martine, we have to meet.
I agree. Why don't you come over to my place?
I'll make you a cocktail,
and we'll have a roll in the hay for old times' sake.
Oh, right. You would have been there, haven't you?
Probably have your men keeping lookout for me now.
You're not in a position to play games, Martine.
No threats please, Tim.
Why didn't you tell me what it was I was set up to get you?
For your own good.
I care about your safety, Martine.
Right.
I suppose I give you what you want and we go our separate ways.
That's what I promised.
Ok, today. Tottenham Court Road Tube.
Northern isle, northbound platform. 10:30 sharp.
Tottenham Court Road, 10:30. Good.
"London vaults checked after radio HAM tunes in to a crime. "
Christ, what a fiasco!
And now the particular bank has been identified,
the story will be all over the news.
We've heard it already is.
If we don't get onto the case quickly
the police will have nabbed these robbers,
and God knows what will happen to our photographs.
Philip, get over to the bank.
Take control of the situation.
Gentlemen. I've just had a conversation with one Martine Love.
Where is she?
Call was traced to a public phone box in Earl's Court.
Good news is, she's arranged a meet.
That is good news.
- I'll be better off going alone. - Yeah.
Tim has agreed to meet.
It's all over the news. They found the location of the bank.
So what?
Keep the change.
I'm sorry, ma'am, you can't go in.
There's been a robbery.
We know there's been a robbery, that's why we're all here.
Everybody that works here. I need everybody. Speak to him.
Gerald?
You work in robbery now then?
You're a long way off your patch.
Regional crime squad now.
Just went by to see what all the fuss is about.
Pretty cheeky, that radio bit.
These walkie-talkie robbers certainly caught your lot on the hop.
Makes us all look stupid.
Yeah, well...
You're pretty chummy with all the villains around town.
You got any idea who could have done this?
None of my informants.
We have been waiting here quite some time,
and so far you people have told us absolutely nothing.
If you would like to give us an itemized list
of the content of your boxes, we may be able to ascertain...
- Are you mad? - ... what's missing.
The whole point in having a safe deposit box
is so that people like you don't know what's in it!
I want to speak to a Roy Given.
Yeah, that's me.
This robbery is now a matter of national security.
I want everybody out.
This is a police investigation.
Not anymore. Call your superiors.
Who the bloody hell does he think he is?
Spooks. MI-5 or 6, I can never tell the difference.
They all got the same tailor
and they all went to the same bloody school.
Let's get some copies of the...
walkie-talkie tapes out to the news boys.
Maybe the public can help identify the villains.
So tell me... Which of the boxes were ransacked?
The lot. 100s through to 400s.
Oh, well we're in a crapper, Jerry. Both of us.
Both? Now, why is it my problem?
Accounts have to be balanced records kept.
And I wouldn't likely keep the books around here, now would I?
Spell it out, Lew. Be more specific.
I have a ledger,
a record of every payment
I've ever made to you and your colleagues.
It was in my safety deposit box,
and I think we can safely assume...
it's now in the possession of the robbers.
Jesus wept.
And I think you'll agree
we have to find those villains before your honest colleagues do.
For fuck's sake.
Who is this?
Lew Vogel.
Hold on. Get up.
Come on, wake up.
What do you want, Lew?
I'm afraid I've got some potentially bad news for you, Michael.
Your safety deposit box at the Baker Street bank...
what's its number?
Why do you ask?
Well, because some thieves broke into the bank vault and robbed it.
So if your box is in the 100 to 400 numbers,
I'm afraid all your stuff will be gone.
Mine too, unhappily.
What? How can this happen in London?
Well, I promise you it has happened.
I promise you these thieves will be found and dealt with.
You can rely on it. I'll keep you informed.
Thank you.
No-one touches me, follows me or Martine takes your stuff...
right to Fleet Street, understood?
You want box 118, Tim.
You have no idea of the danger you and your chums are in, do you?
Is that right? And what would that be?
You've opened Pandora's box, you dumb prick, that's why.
I know what's at stake.
And I know how expendable we are.
Some change in the deal.
- Oh, is that right? - Yeah...
You'll get all your nasty pictures, but here's the twist:
We'll get indemnity, fresh passports, safe passage out of the country.
For the whole team.
And an officially signed document
guaranteeing we won't be prosecuted and we won't be pursued.
You can't be serious?
You can bet your bollocks I'm serious.
I want it signed and delivered by a public figure
of substantial authority.
How about the Prime Minister?
Yeah, he'll do, if you can drag him off his yacht.
You mess with us, Tim...
We can drip-feed pictures like this to the press.
We've got a stack of 'em.
Oh, do you?
You've got until 4pm to confirm that we have a deal.
We'll be in touch.
Some photographs.
Well done, Tim!
Do you have any more?
Apparently there is a whole rogues gallery stored in one of those boxes.
If Lord Drysdale is up to his usual hanky-panky,
that's his problem.
This operation is about recovering the photos from Michael X.
Might it not be prudent to get the committee
to consider issuing a "D notice"?
To protect everyone potentially
embarrassed by this criminal activity.
...Which we instigated.
Very nice. Very nice indeed.
When I came out there were a couple of lads taking some photos.
Buddies of him.
He was standing right outside the bank just a few days before it was robbed.
I thought at the time he looked a bit shifty.
Christ, is that thing real?
I've got it.
Dave Shilling. That's his name.
Tata, mom.
Look after yourself, son.
Go, get yourself inside. You'll catch your death.
- Dave Shilling? - Yeah?
I wonder if we could have a word.
- About what? - About a bank.
I want to tell you something, Mr. Shilling,
because it will save time.
You see,
I have a very jaundiced view of life.
From what I see, most of it is corrupt, venal and vile.
And I am just saying this so that you know
that I don't have a better nature to appeal to,
or a compassionate streak. I mean, you do understand, don't you?
I think so, Mr. Vogel.
Good.
I have a kidney stone,
I dont seem to be able to pass. I'm on painkillers.
I could use a couple of those myself.
You stole from me
and from friends of mine.
- Where is my stuff? - I don't know.
Look, I don't know anything about any bank robbery. Honest.
You're still an unconvincing actor, Mr. Shilling.
I would love to say this is not going to hurt,
but it is.
What are you going to do?
Please, no! No.
Stop. Please.
No.
- Well, they were here. - What are you gonna do?
Why is the door open?
Who are you?
I could ask the same thing.
You better run along, eh?
Get yourselves a cup of tea or something.
We are looking for Terry Leather.
Terry said he would not be coming in this week.
He is supposed to call in.
- So you would be Eddie, right? - Uh, yeah?
Well, you're coming with me!
What are you doing? Leave him alone!
What are you going to do with my Eddie?
- Just relax. - Leave her alone!
We want to talk to him about a bank robbery.
Don't you touch her!
If you want to see your Eddie or his mate Dave again,
make sure Terry Leather calls that number.
Walkie-talkie gang takes it all.
Read all about it.
Walkie-talkie gang takes it all...
- That's great news. Over. - We're taking a break.
We need to get some sleep.
Getting a shut-eye. I want the fumes cleared out. Over.
Lucky you. My eyes are like...
Mommy? Daddy is on the radio.
Don't be so silly, darling.
He is!
Is he?
I want a warm bath and a cup of tea. Over.
You'll get your cup of tea. Just your odd time. Over.
See? It is daddy.
Authorities have released this recording of the walkie-talkie
communications between the robbers of Lloyds Bank in Marylebone
in the hopes that their voices
may be identified by members of the public...
Hello?
Wendy?
We heard you on the radio, Terry. You are famous, you know?
You robbed that bank, didn't you? The one on the news.
Oh God, you could go to jail for years for something like that, Terry.
I couldn't stand it.
No one is going to jail.
I've got everyone under control.
Just stay put. Keep the kids inside.
I love you, Wendy.
I gotta go.
You be careful, Terry.
What's the matter, mom?
Nothing, darling.
- Terry, they took Eddie. - Oh God. Who?
They didn't have fleece on. I don't know, they could have been cops.
They left a phone number for you.
They said, if I want to see Dave or Eddie again,
then you'll have to call.
Listen to me, I swear to you we'll get them back.
Don't you worry, darling.
Have you got a pen?
Yeah.
- 0-1-9-4-6. - Hold on, say it again.
0-1-9-4-6. - Yeah.
Michael? It's Lew Vogel. Yes.
Well, we've identified the villains.
Believe it or not, they're amateurs. Part-timers.
They were put up to the job by a woman named Martine Love.
- Ring a bell? - Never heard of her.
Well, we paid a visit to her flat,
and some chaps from MI-5 were already there.
Pulled rank on my tame copper.
Why do you suppose these people would be interested
in the robbery of a minor neighbourhood bank, Michael?
- I don't know. - I think you do.
And I'm guessing that your box is number 118?
I think what these robbers were really after were photographs.
Photographs of a certain Royal Princess.
How do you know that?
Because on this point, I believe my captive.
No man could withstand the pain we inflicted on him.
So don't take me for a fool, Michael!
You've instigated this calamity
by storing your blackmail materials in this bank.
Which you recommended.
I will not be lectured by the porn king of Soho.
Get my pictures back,
or you will never see a black man on the streets of London
without wondering if he's been sent to kill you!
What are you doing?
Oh, hello Michael. Hakim was looking for a copy of his book.
I know what you've been looking for.
You won't find it.
What are you talking about?
Hakim, I found your book.
You don't understand.
My box and those of my friends
may have been rifled.
Surely you can pull some strings.
You're a minister in the government, for God's sake!
Sonia, I really don't think I am able to help here.
Perhaps you don't fully comprehend.
I have photographs, compromising photographs,
live films of you,
Miles Urquhart, all my regulars,
in this safe deposit box.
You all know each other if that's any consolation.
You've got photographs of me?
You conniving cunt!
You be a big boy.
Now is the time to talk to your White Hall chums,
don't you think?
That's him. Sure that's him.
Guy Arthur Singer, con man and petty criminal.
Did a stretch in the "Scrubs" a few years back.
I thought he was a wanker. Spoke with some poncey accent.
Thank you, sir, very much.
- Hello? - Who am I talking to?
Terry Leather, Kevin Swain, Martine Love, Eddie Burton.
Yeah, Mr. Shilling was kind enough to speak with me about this.
You put Dave on the phone.
Now, I would, but...
he seems a bit indisposed at the moment.
What do you want?
Just a couple of things from what you've stolen.
A ledger with a dark red cover.
And some photos
that I'm sure the MI-5 is interested in.
The "Royal portfolio".
All we got is money and jewels.
Then I suggest you look again.
Speak to your friends.
- Hello, who is this? - Eddie, it's Terry.
Terry...
Terry, fucking hell.
Dave's all messed up,
and they're going to do the same to me, you got to help.
Listen to me, Eddie.
I don't have what he wants.
No? No, you've got to have what they want, you've got to.
You've got to help.
Eddie, what am I supposed to do? You tell him, we don't have it!
- No, Terry. Terry, you gotta- - Eddie,
Tell him I don't have his fucking ledger!
You tell that cunt now!
He doesn't have it...
Right.
Wait...
No! No!
No! They shot Dave!
- Eddie? - Dave is dead.
- Eddie! - They shot him, Terry...
I'll give you one hour to find what I want,
or I'll kill this man.
This is it.
Lew Vogel.
That's what this bastard is.
"Payments made to Soho and West End division officers"
There are weekly payouts. 50 quid here, 20 there.
Probably every bad copper in London.
Nothing like this was supposed to happen.
No one was supposed to get hurt.
It's not your fault, right?
We still got our own exit to think about, and Eddie.
If we give the photos to Vogel, all bets are off with Tim.
If we deliver it to Tim, it's Eddie's neck
and Vogel is still after us.
Either way we are fucked.
Miles, we've got a problem,
a serious problem.
Something Sonia Bern kept in the bank
that was robbed over the weekend.
She is concerned that her safe deposit box
may have been plundered.
I'm afraid her fears are well justified.
Oh my God.
I really thought Sonia was a woman of more discreet character.
So... The genie is out of the bottle then.
- For both of us, ey? - Not quite yet.
My operatives tell me that the thieves
are using the photographs as a bargaining chip.
- Then give them what they want. - Already in motion.
And the committee having done the works
to issue a "D-notice" on the whole business.
To muffle the press. Put a lid on it.
Big pity, wouldn't it?
Well, if your mates abandoned you over a few photographs.
Hello.
You listen to me, Mr. "Vogel" or whatever your fucking name is.
You go ahead and kill him, see if we give a shit.
We got our loot.
Your ledgers and your photos,
you can pick 'em up from Scotland Yard.
We're sending them over.
Don't do that.
Well, if you want your book of payoffs back,
be at Paddington Station in person tomorrow 11 am, platform 1.
There's a newsstand near the statue of the soldier.
Have Eddie with you, hale and hearty.
This is your one and only chance, Vogel.
Don't blow it.
Don't answer it! Catherine!
- Daddy! - How are you?
Come here.
Here. Look, I got you a present.
- You been good for mommy? - Yeah.
I need to talk to mommy about something,
so give us a minute, okay?
- Go on. - Good girls.
So.. you want to tell me what's been going on?
- Some blokes worked over Dave. - How bad?
He's dead.
Oh my God Almighty, Terry.
What have you done to us?
Wendy, I promise, I'm gonna work this out.
And when I do, we're going to leave England.
and it's all going to change for us.
But if anything goes wrong, use this.
There is plenty of cash. Pounds, francs, dollars.
You're going to leave the country,
start a new life for you and the girls.
You can do this if you have to, Wendy. Promise me.
Is that from the robbery, is it?
My share, yeah.
The papers said there was a woman in the vault.
Martine, so was she involved?
Yeah. She brought us the job in the first place.
Oh, and did you sleep with her, Terry?
I did know that from day one. It was the way she looked.
The first day we met I said to my friend Audrey, I said:
"I am gonna marry him. And I am gonna have his kids. "
And I have stuck by you... I stuck by you no matter what!
You bastard!
Fuck...
You can throw me over.
I deserve it.
I brought you more grief than happiness,
but I love you. And the kids.
So the reason I did this was to get us out of this life once and for all.
Mommy, open the door.
Mommy, mommy!
- We have the rest of our lives, - Go play in your room!
...if you'll still have me.
She takes a good picture, eh, Tim?
Lord Mountbatten has graciously agreed to represent
the interest of the crown in this matter.
- Is he high enough up the tree? - Lord Mountbatten.
I always wanted to meet that bugger.
Yes. I am not sure he will be very pleased to meet you, too.
He has to be under the main clock Paddington Station, 11 am, or no deal.
11 am, on the knock,
and with your new passports and documents.
He's gonna hand them over as soon as he sees the photos.
There's another problem.
This robbery's pissed off some local villains.
The guts come with the glory, eh?
One of our mates has been killed.
That's hardly surprising considering the roster of reprobates
that are the banks' deposit box customers.
Listen, Terry. Our committment is for...
the recovery of the royal... portraits only.
The proceeds and the piss-offs are both yours to deal with.
11 am, Paddington Station.
Gale.
Michael wants to see you in the garden.
- What for? - I don't know.
Gale, come. Come and look at this.
Come.
- I want to show you something. - What's this for?
It's for you.
What have I done to deserve this? What have I done?
You're a spy, sent to steal from me.
And nobody steals from Michael X. No-one!
See if it mentions the copper in charge.
Here it is.
"Heading the case is Detective Sergeant
"Roy Given of Marylebone Lane police station. "
Roy Given?
No Roy Given menioned.
Let's hope that means he's straight.
And that he'd be interested in the names of some bent coppers.
Yeah, a bit of a long shot.
Fuck it...
- Nothing in that one? - No.
What, we don't rate a mention. Strike you as strange?
It's kind of scary actually.
If that news could disappear, so could we.
Next stop: Edgware Road.
Well...
Here's to us.
See you, mate.
Look after yourself. Take care.
Good luck, Kev.
So where are you headed? If everything goes to plan?
I'll tell you, if you're coming with me.
Good morning. I'm looking for a Mr. Roy Given.
It's very important.
- Roy Given? - Yeah.
Can I ask what it's concerning?
No, I prefer to tell him myself.
Look, all I'm saying is, if you're interested
in the rest of this book of payoffs,
the author's gonna be at Paddington Station
11 am, platform one.
And how exactly did this come into your possession?
Next stop: Paddington Station. Change here for the Bakerloo line.
Let's hope now he turns up fashionably late.
- There's your friend, Tim. - Good luck.
It's good to see you in one piece.
You were worried for your own arse, Tim, not for mine.
You're a prick, Tim.
You set this whole thing up from the start, didn't you?
Come on, you get to be rich, free and clear.
Isn't that what you wanted?
- You stay here with the car. - Right.
Bloody kidney stone. It's gotta go out soon.
I haven't had this much excitement since the war.
We're a little late, My Lord.
So where is your mate?
There, sir, that one at the newsstand.
Wait. I've seen those two cowboys before at the girl's flat.
- It's a trap, they're MI-5. - Terry.
Terry.
- Lord Mountbatten? - Yes?
You know the arrangements and you agree to our new identities
and immunity from prosecution?
You have my word that the crown will honour this committment.
Your documentation and guarantees
If I were you, I'd keep them in a very safe place.
Yeah, well, you bet it won't be a safe deposit box.
She is a scallywag. Thank you.
Martine.
It wasn't all business for me.
- What happened, where's the book? - Just open the door.
- No! Get in there.
Stay there, or you're dead meat!
Where are you going, old man, eh?
No!
- This one's for Dave. - No...
You fucker!
Not so fucking smug now, are ya?
Oi, you punk!
- Eddie, get out. - That's the one that killed Dave.
Get your hands off me!
Arrest them, they are bank robbers.
- Fuck! - This bloke killed our friend!
- Shit. - No, no, listen...
So, are we seriously arseholed now, Terry?
Well, at least we're not dead like poor old Dave.
Get up, you filthy bastard.
You're under arrest. Take him away.
All right. Come on, you.
Get in the car.
It's all right, mate.
I wonder if that's Roy Given?
Who's he?
I was hoping he was a straight copper.
We've got a nice collar here, Roy.
You know, these two are part of the Baker Street bank robbery gang.
- Place this man under arrest. - Yes, sir.
What are you talking about? They're part of the Baker Street Firm.
I don't know about that.
But I know all about you, you corrupt bastard.
Cuff him. The one over by the wall as well.
But they're the robbers!
No robbers in here.
Watch your head.
Now...
I believe you've a certain Mr. Vogel's book of shame.
Well, if you let me out, I'll go get it for you.
That belongs to me.
Here's your book.
Terry. We were thinking, a smart fella like you
might have kept mementos of the event, just in case.
Case what? Things didn't turn out so nicely?
If they should ever see the light of day
don't think we can't find you.
Out. Go on, piss off.
Aren't you gone?
- How did that happen? - Fucked if I know, just keep walking.
Michael, Michael!
What's going on? What do you want in my place?
What do you want?
- We are placing you under arrest. - What am I charged with?
Conspiracy to import drugs into the United Kingdom, will that do?
But you could still help yourself.
There's a British national staying with you, a certain Gale Benson.
She was here, but she's gone on.
- All right. - Get in the back!
Over here, sir.
Burn the house down.
I want nothing of this place left standing.
- Were you friends of Dave? - Oh yeah.
- Really?
We knew him in a professional capacity.
He was one of our favourites.
See you later.
- Are you all right? - Yeah.
So where are you off to, Kevin?
Anywhere you want to go.
Sorry, I'm doing a solo from now on.
Yeah, well.
It was worth a try.
Do you want another one?
Yeah, go on. One for the road.
Tummy.
I just wish Dave could have seen all this.
Yeah... Here's to Dave.
To Dave.
What do you want, Martine?
I'm sorry I've caused you this upset, Wendy.
Well, apparently we're rich.
I know the business is finished, but are the cars really ours?
Yeah.
They are all yours.
Jessul has been paid off.
I won't lie to you...
I would have gone with him,
and I would have shut you out of my mind,
but he didn't want to know.
I'm sorry.
- Your wife is talking to Martine. - I know, Kev.
I know...
Good luck.
It was always you, Terry.
Daddy!
Hey!
Oh my God, Terry, that's a big one.
Last a few chips though, innit?
- Don't, mom!
- Fish fingers tonight, eh? - What a pretty boy...