Hey, Vic, you should take a look at this, mate. It's a bullion heist.
Do we have an idea whose gold this is?
Yeah, we do. It's ours.
I'll get them to share that gold, one way or another.
- So, what's going on? - Saul Gold's going on.
He's called a job on.
You pick up my clients,
the Heimels, from the airport.
What else are we transporting other than the Heimels, Mr. Gold?
Diamonds. A fistful.
Where can we have a little fun around here?
What kind of fun are you referring to?
Who's heisted my diamonds?
I don't know yet, Mr. Gold.
I want my diamonds back in 48 hours,
or I will cut off your cock.
Oh Christ.
How we gonna write this shit show up?
Way it happened, Bob, is we burst through the doors
to be greeted by a crew of hopped-up gangsters
blazing lead in our general direction.
What the f...!
It was us... or them.
Right.
Us or them.
Oh. Lads. Looks like we've got a live one.
I'll call in the paramedics.
- What you do that for? - Forty grand, Bob.
Cost per prisoner per year.
Now, say this shithead gets 20 at Her Majesty's pleasure.
You're asking the taxpayer to cough three-quarters of a million quid.
That's unconscionable, mate.
All right.
Let's see what Vic Hill's been up to.
Bingo.
Bang up job, boys.
Gold must be worth millions.
Gonna be front page news.
We'll get commendations for this, gents.
Sorry to be the one to break it to you, Bob,
but there'll be no medals or marching parades for this one.
- Why? - Well...
missus says she'll stop making love to me
if I don't buy her a fur coat.
You make a shit criminal and a shit copper.
What's left for you, Bob?
Sod all! That's what's left for you.
How the hell did Castillo know about the diamonds?
Come on, Charlie. We're talking about loose chat and strippers.
Sonny probably owned the joint. It takes one phone call.
Let's just tell Saul Gold who heisted him.
He'll get the ice back
and redecorate El Flamingo with bits of Sonny's skull.
But Sonny ain't Saul's problem, is it? It's ours.
We guaranteed delivery, so we gotta sort this shit out.
Well, bar selling selective body parts,
we only have two viable options...
either we fence some of the gold and raise the cash...
or retrieve the diamonds.
Retrieval. Lotti Mott.
She can work with us from the inside.
We go in hard, we go in heavy, and we light the place up.
She's a hot mess.
You need to wipe your glasses, pal.
They've come over all misty.
Yeah, son, if you've got any better ideas, then share 'em.
Yeah, we fence some of the gold...
without sparking the enthusiasm
of the local criminal fraternity.
The girl working at Saul's... she's pin sharp.
She knows the business. Chloe Koen is our ticket.
I want those diamonds back.
Let's take Lotti Mott for a walk, shall we?
Everything go to plan?
What's your boy done with my diamonds?
- Come again? - Don't play the innocent with me, Vic.
Your boy says that he got turned over,
which as a result has put me and, conversely, you
a quarter-bar in the red.
My boy wouldn't rip you off, Saul.
He knows what's what. I'll talk to him and get back to ya.
You iron this proper now, Vic...
or your boy will feel the sharp end of my very sharp stick.
Oh! Vic, in the meantime,
all those privileges you enjoy in that shithole
that make your miserable existence
marginally less miserable are revoked.
What did you do, son?
What did you do?
So, you want to raid El Flamingo,
get the stones back,
and you want me to work the thing for you
- from the inside? - That's the short of it.
And what's in it for me?
- Well, we cut you in. - Diamonds?
No, no, no, no. The ice goes back to Saul Gold.
- Then what? - Come on, you know what, Lotti.
I want to hear him say it.
- Gold. - I knew it.
- I knew it! - Will you shut up?
Listen, no word to anybody, all right?
This is some seriously heavy shit.
This is some heavy shit, all right.
All right.
So you up for it or not?
- Equal partners. - No. No.
You're a junior partner. That's it.
Good luck with Saul Gold, boys.
All right.
Equal partners.
Hate 'Em.
Hate 'Em!
- What? - Phone's on the piss.
- You top it up? - Yeah, last week.
- Should be fully loaded. - Well, it's not bloody working.
Mine's gone down as well.
Come on. Come on.
Bingo.
What you got there, Fink? Hmm?
Uhh... fraud case. Luxury goods,
knockoff Harrods hampers.
The Harrods Hamper Caper.
- Yeah. - Just your speed, Bob.
You know, a little birdy told me
you spoke with the armored truck driver.
- Truck driver? - Mmm.
This bullion robbery is strictly Flying Squad business.
- We're on it. - Understood.
You're on it, Teri.
And if I found out that you've been tailing our investigation again,
I'll kick you square in those raisins that you call bollocks.
Message received.
Loud and clear.
Hey.
Good boy.
Hello.
These are staff quarters.
Strictly off-limits. The party's upstairs.
- I'm not here for the party. - You're not?
Uhh... what are you doing?
- Who are you? - D.I. Fink.
Well, will you kindly state your business, sir?
I'm looking for a pair of monogrammed slippers.
Sir, I don't know what you are referring to.
I would like to see proper identification.
Shift.
Oh my gosh.
Hello, gents.
This is what you're up against.
I left something in the safe room.
I can't let you in there, Lotti.
Oh, Manny.
Please do one little thing for me.
You're always there when I need you.
Could you open up the safe room?
Think I left my knickers inside.
We were...
Sonny likes to...
in the safe room... for the cameras.
All the angles, if you know what I mean.
Mmm!
Don't be in such a rush, Manny.
I'll come and find you later and you can fill your boots.
Must've left my knickers somewhere else. Laters!
Thank you for that. That was... that was helpful.
I just gave you the layout to Sonny Castillo's safe room.
Now, what's the plan?
Well, that's something that we need to discuss internally.
Without you.
Your boss is a dick.
Well, he isn't my boss. He's my mate.
- Cheers, bro. - Shut up.
Well, your mate... that bosses everyone around is a dick.
If you want to turn Sonny Castillo over, you're gonna need me.
You're gonna need me in all the way.
I can work this thing from the inside
whilst you lot play silly safe-crackers.
She's not wrong, Al.
And you can keep Sonny distracted, can ya?
What do you think?
Boys, mark this down.
If you're not seen back in here in less than two weeks,
send Brian round and drag him out to 'em yard.
You have to cut your hair regular, you know?
I'm after a fella called...
Windrush... Windrush.
I hear he can help with pest control.
Ooh. Windrush isn't here.
You can take Henry.
Okay.
I'll take Henry.
- Shit.
What you wearing those for?
Lucky slippers.
Relax, boys.
Come on then.
What you done now, Charlie?
Oh, I just forgot my dad's birthday.
Nothing a bottle of scotch wouldn't fix.
We're gonna need a proper safe-cracker.
Yeah, all right. Where we gonna find one of them?
Come through.
Bollocks.
This is medieval, this is.
Now they're depriving us of basic human necessities.
Got a long reach, this Saul Gold, isn't he, eh?
He's not bloody God, Hate 'Em. It's just a coincidence.
Really?
Got a visitor, Mr. H.
A visitor?
Ah, there he is.
The prodigal son.
- You all right? - Well, I'm pressed, Albert,
if you'd like to know. I'm extremely pressed.
Saul Gold, quarter of a bar in rocks,
on our watch. Strike a note?
There were some extenuating circumstances.
We got rolled.
You're a Hill. We do not get fucking rolled!
And you've done 15 years
'cause you didn't pay your council tax, is that right?
You are clueless as to the repercussions
of your extenuating circumstances.
Saul Gold is a murdering bastard,
and you and I are both nose deep in the shitter, Son.
- I'm going to handle it. - Are you now?
I need something from you.
Do you want me to wipe your ass?
I need you to put me in touch with a safe-cracker.
I need the Ace.
Norman Gordon?
Last I heard, he was blasting out gangster tours
on Limehouse Lane for a living.
Oh, is that it? No chat about the football or the weather or...
where is my hug?
I've gotta go. I'll see ya later.
Oi. Don't you go digging that hole any fucking deeper, son.
Oi!
And on this very spot...
just outside the Crown and Anchor Pub,
was the infamous scene of Jack Pot and Regis McLemore's
first scrap with the Old Bill!
This incident led the boys to realize...
Led the boys to realize...
So began a life of crime.
Piss off! Out of the way, Granddad!
Last time I saw you, you had a snotty nose and scabby knees.
Now look at you, Albert.
- All grown up. - Yeah?
Come on, it's been a while since I've had scabby knees.
How's your mom holding up?
Yeah, she's all right. You know Lily, holding it down.
Not easy, being on her own.
Raising a kid and husband locked away...
it takes its toll a marriage.
They... they all right?
Vic and Lily?
Yeah.
Tell me, there been much... demand for your services as of late?
Pfft! What? For an analog impresario in the digital age?
No, I've long been supplanted by the hacker whiz kid.
- Ah. - Effing new school guys.
See... I have an expertise that...
nobody seems to have the patience for.
Yeah, but it turns out I may have a job...
for your specialist expertise, Norman.
- Steady as he goes. - Mmm.
Ah.
I've only got 20 quid on me.
I don't want your pocket change.
Tell me...
where are your slippers, boy?
Slippers? What are you talking about? Who the hell are you?
D.I. Fink.
I know what you did.
I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.
No? Oh...
I think you do.
I don't know about any slippers, but I do know my rights,
so either arrest me or piss off.
You know your rights, do ya?
- What about my rights? - Let me go!
Video clip has a male, 5'10,
wearing the monogrammed slippers of the Cavendish Clan
at the site of an armored truck heist two days ago.
You're Albert Hill's mate,
a wannabe gangster in a little silly bow tie.
I want that gold, boy.
And if you don't bring it to me...
I will come for it.
Eddie? We need more ribbon for the prison orders.
Governor's wife loves the ivory lace.
These bi-weekly palm greasers are hell on inventory.
Oh.
Albert must've bust his chain.
Just this way, sir.
- So sorry. - What happened to you?
Mugger. I fended them off.
- Awful. - Yeah, it was... it was nothing.
Oh, thank God.
Those gold ingots were just enough to cover it.
Oh. You managed to fence them?
Indeed.
- Run into any problems with that? - Out-of-town connection.
- Won't come back around. - Oh. Well played, Ms. Koen.
I'll get this. Business expense.
Oh. Are we... so, we're in business together?
Well, that would depend on if you guys had any more to offer.
What if I told you...
we have substantially more to offer?
Mmm! I like the sound of that.
And Saul?
How would he feel with such an involvement?
I could work as an independent contractor
for this particular commission.
It's on me. Business expense.
Lily? It's me.
- Can you hear me? - Just about.
Sounds like a bus station. Where are you?
I'm on a landline, so mind your "P's" and "Q's."
What's happened to the mobile?
They put a squeeze on my amenities.
Listen, are you still sending the posies
- to those that matter on the inside? - Yeah, of course.
Two bouquets a week. Bleeding us dry.
If my sweeteners aren't sweet enough, maybe we should just call it a day.
You've only got a few months left on your sentence.
You can do that standing on your head.
Oi! You lot!
Can it or I'll stripe the lot of ya!
- You were saying, my sweet? - You're out soon, yeah?
Don't get gate fever.
Head down and behave, yeah?
Understood?
Vic, do you hear me?
Oi! Shut it! Shut it!
- Vic? - Loud and clear, my angel.
Loud and clear.
So, what are you after, Billy boy?
Your job, pal.
It's open.
All right, then.
Oh shit.
Hello, big boy.
What a sweet ass, huh?
I'll leave this one with you
- while I keep Sonny occupied. - Come on!
Lotti!
Bubbles with your bubbles, baby.
What's all this?
We've been fighting too much.
I thought we should make up.
- Come here, baby. - Baby, you promised.
- Games first. - Games first.
Okay, baby!
I'll set up the tiles!
Let's get 'em good, Charlie.
Norman.
Norman. Norman!
What are you doing?
Just a sharpener.
Dials in the fingers.
Right, yeah. Norman, we've got a safe to crack.
I don't think I can, Albert.
Wait a minute. Right. Come here.
Come down here. Come here, Norman.
You're not sure about what exactly?
Who've I been kidding?
- I'm a rusty gun. Past my sell-by date. - Okay.
I thought I had one good one left in me,
but it turns out I am just a mug
flogging two-bob gangster tours.
Come on!
Woo! Come on!
Come on, you little prick! Come on!
- Come on, you pikey! - Come on then!
When I win, I'm gonna eat you like a ripe mango.
If our relationship's going to last,
we need common interests.
Oh, we've got common interests.
Uh-uh. Focus on the game, baby.
My dad used to tell me stories about you when I was a kid.
- Mmm? - Yeah.
He said there wasn't a lock you couldn't pick
or a safe that wouldn't yield to your mastery.
Huh.
You were my hero.
I drew a comic strip about you for my school project.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
"Norman 'The Ace' Gordon," I called it.
"Steady as he goes."
- Norman "The Ace" Gordon. - Yeah, and that's you.
You are Norman "The Ace" Gordon,
King of the safe-crackers,
returning for one last caper.
Now...
go out there and secure your place in criminal folklore... forever.
- Eh? - Let's crack this bastard!
Your will, I say. Come on.
- Another bottle. - Just play the tiles,
and then I'll get you anything you want.
Okay.
- You all right? - I bloody got him.
Fuck me. That's a big 'un.
Right, well, you crack on Norman. I'll be back in a minute, eh?
You see, some fools are always punching above their weight.
And sometimes some wankers never see it coming.
Jesus. Well, help me up.
Told you I had it covered, Al.
You're welcome, Billy.
- Oh. Twat. - Me.
Go on in, drag him out.
How we doing, Norman?
Norman "The Ace" Gordon.
Bollocks!
What is that?
Uhh... piece of cake, son.
Leave it with me.
Wakey, wakey, Johnny boy.
Oh! What?
We've got a problem.
Bananagrams!
What the fuck?
Shit.
Oh bloody hell.
Norman! Norman!
Get out of here, Albert! I'm done for!
Nobody turns over Sonny Castillo!
Run.
Go!
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!
Bastards!
Well, that went well, didn't it?
Why did he try and blow the doors?
I told him... I told him no explosives!
What are we going to do about him?
We'll have to go back in.
- Hate 'Em. - What?
Where's our friendly screw with my hot water bottie?
Should've been here a half hour ago. Do you want me to have a word?
No. I've got this one.
Vic. Vic. Oi! Vic, where you going?
Oi. Oi, oi, oi, oi, oi!
What's the crack then? Where's my hot water bottie?
You forget about me, eh?
Listen, Mr. H. There's been a change in protocol,
a crackdown on liberties. Nothing to be done.
Don't be silly, Bert.
There's always something to be done.
Orders from up on high.
Now, be a chap, take it on the chin,
and get back in your cell sharpish.
I'm Vic Hill!
I own this wing and every slag on it!
Riot squad, feed through.
Tried to warn you, Mr. H.
Prisoner 42718, Hill, return to your cell immediately.
- Or what? - Or we are authorized
to use reasonable force to ensure you comply.
Please, Mr. H. Do as he says.
Jog on, or you'll catch it first.
- Wrap him up, boys. - Come on, you slags!
Come on, slag! I'll kill the lot of you!
Striking a screw! You know where that's gonna send ya!
Come on, I'll kill the lot of ya! Come on! Come on!
I'll kill the lot of ya! Come on! Come on, you slag!
I'll kill ya! Kill them all!
Come on, you slag!
Come on!
Now then, 42718,
contrary to popular belief,
I am a man with a generous and giving nature.
Bollocks to ya!
You just attacked a prison guard, Mr. Hill.
We don't take that kind of behavior lightly.
Now, it's either the Shitter...
in which your punishment will be of the digestive variety.
Or the Sleeper,
in which you will slip into a vegetable state
with your tongue dripping off your face.
Give me the Sleeper, you bastard.
Ah, the Sleeper.
Are you sure? The side effects can be a bit... mental.
Give it to me! Ah!
Sleep tight, dickhead.
Ah, the Sleeper.
Are you sure?
The side effects can be a bit... mental.
Give it to me!
Sleep tight, dickhead.
Who you working with, old man?
You'll never crack me.
Forget about him, boss.
It was Lotti. She tipped 'em off.
- Oh, son. Hello. - Hi, Mom.
- Hello. - Mrs. H.
Hello, hello, hello.
Albert. A moment.
- What's up? - Eddie found...
Found what?
Uh, he found some more plant food, so we're good on inventory.
All right. Good.
- Is everything all right? - Yeah. Why?
Remember, I'm here if you need me, yeah?
Yeah, I know.
- Get him out of there! - He's dead!
Shut up!
We are gonna get Norman out, 'cause a Hill does not leave a man behind.
- All right? - Thank you.
Then I've gotta get straight with Saul,
'cause I'm gonna end up a bloody eunuch.
We're getting squeezed from every direction.
We need find a way to move some of this gold
to raise the cash to pay off Saul.
Actually, I... I can help you with that.
Go on.
- Is this bad timing? - Right on cue.
- What is she doing here? - Just... she can help us out.
I can fence your gold.
How does she know about the gold?
How the hell does she know about the gold, Charlie?
Look, someone had to take action, okay?
You're 24 hours from the pickle jar. Just hear her out, Al.
You know there's not a fence in town willing to take on that kind of heat.
Who said anything about staying local?
Your passports up-to-date?
- Passports? - Where we going?
New York.