- What's your boy done with my diamonds?
- My boy wouldn't rip you off, Saul, he knows what's what.
- Let's just tell Saul Gold who heisted it.
-I want that gold, boy.
And if you don't bring it to me, I will come for it.
- We're gonna need a proper safecracker.
- Norman Gordon! - I have an expertise
that nobody seems to have the patience for.
- You crack on, Norman, I'll be back in a minute.
- Nobody turns over Sonny Castillo!
- We need to find a way to move some of this gold
to pay off Saul. - I can fence your gold.
- How does she know about the gold?
- Someone had to take action. Just hear her out about it.
- Yep. - We're on for tonight.
-Nice.
Lads... we're on.
-Open it!
Open it!
-Open it!
And the cage!
-Get down!
-Uhh!
- Bob? You dirty son of a bitch.
- Give me a minute with him, okay?
- Two minutes, all right. - Good man.
-You sneaky bastard.
You were supposed to tip us off about the bullion,
not turn us in!
- Where was my cut on the Fanon heist?
-I gave you your bloody cut!
- Five percent? You treated me like a lackey
when I gift-wrapped that one for you, Vic.
You know, all I wanted was just to be appreciated.
You know, just to be one of the boys,
get an invite to a Sunday roast.
-Oh, your feelings hurt?
Did we disrespect your enormous talent
for bribing bank tellers, eh?
- Let's not dwell on the past, Vic, let's focus on the present.
You are looking at a very long stretch away from your family.
Now, I could help make things a lot easier for them.
The gold is gone. Bent coppers with big ideas.
We both got our pants pulled down.
- You put the word on the street, help me find the gold,
and I'll make sure Lily and Albert don't want for much.
- I'll shoot your bloody kneecaps off!
- I'll take that as a no then.
Enjoy the next 15 to life, mate. I know I will.
Take him back to the station and charge him.
- Aye-aye, boss.
-Vic Hill... big man.
- Phone call. I get a phone call.
-One.
Oh, hi, darling, it's me.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm all right, I'm all right.
You listen very closely, sweetheart.
Well... it all went according to plan...
till it didn't.
- 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 are we going?
- New York. - New York?
- New York now! - You guys heard of Nas Stone?
- He's that baller jeweler, right?
-Correct!
- So, what are we doing here, player?
- But not just any baller jeweler.
-Time piece?
- Nas Stone is the Brooklyn Bling King.
-I got it, son.
- New York's jeweler to the stars.
- We going full grill! You gotta make a splash.
See that shit a mile away. Three diamonds... a ruby...
a Brooklyn B... and a motherfucking peace sign.
Now, normally, this shit gonna run you half a mil,
but, uh, you my boy.
We gonna do it for 450 if you blast me on repeat
on Twitter and Insta.
- Look, no offense, right, but I don't know you,
and I trust about as far as I can throw ya,
and that is not across the Atlantic. -We'd be back in 24 hours,
in time for you to make good with Saul.
And not wanting to put too fine a point on it,
he's not gonna give you an extension.
- Sounds like a better idea than, you know, waiting around here
to get whacked by Sonny, heh.
- How much gold is this Nas Stone fella looking to buy?
- He said we'd start off with 250K sterling.
That should take care of your immediate problem.
And then, we'll take it from there if both parties agree.
-All right.
But Charlie and I go with ya.
-Already booked the tickets.
- You're gonna cook like a burrito.
Did you find Lotti?
-Straight-up vanished.
-How about you?
Do you know where my beautiful chica is?
You're not gonna live long enough to regret that.
No one's coming for you, old man.
- Billy, you've gotta find a way of getting Norman out,
'cause he ain't gonna last long with fuckface.
- All right, well, I'll see a man about a dog.
-Good lad.
- Lotti Mott. - Chloe Koen.
-I'm an equal partner.
So, get any clever ideas about blagging my share of the gold,
and I'll feed you to the pigs.
- Pig fodder. Got it.
- I hate to be a downer, but one other thing.
How you getting those past customs?
-May I make a suggestion?
Get along then.
Have one for me.
Oh, the sleeper, you bastard.
- Who are you talking to, Dad?
-Nobody, son.
- Dad, can we go to the funfair this weekend with Billy?
-No can do, Albert.
I'm a bit tied up at the moment.
- But you said we'd go for my ninth birthday,
and we never did.
- Yeah. Sorry about that, mate.
I truly am.
-Who are you talking to, Dad?
-Bloody sleeper.
- But I wanted to go on the carousel.
Carousel's shite.
- How about crazy golf? - That's for kids.
- But I am a kid, Dad. - No, you...
No.
-Nervous flyer.
- And I haven't been on a plane since I was a kid.
- Beer or wine, sir?
- Uh, yeah, let's... Let's do a G and T.
-Certainly, sir.
- Meshes better with the valium.
It's the only way to fly.
- Why did you bring me to this shithole?
- I told ya, I'm here to see a man about a dog.
-A three-legged dog?
-Billy fucking Ayres.
- Tall Paul. - To what do we owe this honor?
- I'm here for a sit-down with Uncle Dean.
- A sit-down with Uncle Dean? Is that fucking right?
- Ah, you shoulda let us know you were stopping by.
I woulda washed me hair for you, now.
And I would've rolled out the red carpet just for you.
- Piss off whilst you still got boots to walk in, pretty boy.
- Now, I didn't come here for a tear-up.
If you wanna go that way, I'll hit you so hard,
you'll wake up pretty.
-Put the brakes on, boys.
Let's move this along, Billy.
- Yeah, well, when you grow a set of knackers,
you know where to find me, Billy boy!
Hey?!
- Move along now with ya.
- Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.
We are about to make our final descent to...
-We still here?
- I'm just giving him a couple minutes, all right?
- Pussy. - Easy.
- Uncle Dean? Open the door!
- What?!
Can't even have a shite without some bas...
Hello.
Well, hello to you.
You are a sweet one, darling.
King Royston's boy? - Yeah.
- Huh. The didicoy.
-That's right.
- I haven't seen you around here in a while.
-Yeah, well, uh...
didn't think I was welcome.
-Where's my dog?
Dog!
Hey, dog!
Dog!
Ooh-ooh-ooh... I put you off, yeah?
- Here you go, Uncle D. - Thank you.
- Hi. - Yourself?
Dog!
What do you want, son?
- A good man is about to get mullered,
and we need your help to get him out.
- Well, a lot of good men get mullered.
Can't save 'em all.
-This was no man's.
I was told it gets me one cooperation.
-Well, now.
Well, these boys won't go to war for anybody.
You're gonna have to scrap for their allegiance.
-Call it on.
Dog!
-You all right?
- I'm fine. Is he?
-Next in line.
-I do the talking.
-Look into the camera.
Four fingers.
Thumb.
Look into the camera.
Four fingers.
Thumb.
-Business or pleasure?
- Pleasure. - Loads of pleasure.
-That's quite a purse.
-Oh, it's the latest Vuitton.
-Looks expensive.
- It's nothing compared to my shoe fetish.
Enjoy your trip.
- Thank you. - Thank you.
-The Big Apple, baby!
Hey, forget about it!
- Cab? - Already booked.
Be a gentleman, would you?
-Ah, milady.
- Smooth. Really smooth.
- 24 hours? You guys gotta check out Goattles.
Stellar goat milk bar in East Williamsburg.
Wanted to invest in the place,
but I got too many other projects.
I do cab for the networking.
You gotta diversify your entrepreneurial ventures
if you wanna make it these days.
I got my screen printing business,
virtual reality app and bike shop I co-own.
That's my main gig.
Ride or Die Cyclery,
largest selection of vintage bikes on the East Coast.
- Yeah, well, you sound like you got your fingers
in a lot of little pies, mate.
- Oh, everyone's trying to make it rich.
You just gotta try harder than the next guy, right?
- Well, sometimes the riches just fall out the back of a truck
and land in your lap.
- How far to Nas Stone? - Not far.
- Nas Stone? You guys ballers or gangsters?
Well, we ain't ballers.
- I'm hearing good things from Saul Gold about you.
You bringing in the business, girl.
-Things seem to be going well.
- Uh, but if I understand correctly,
this is a little something off the books.
- These are my associates, Albert Hill
and Charlie Cavendish-Scott. - Good to meet you, man.
- So... I got a backlog of orders
stretching halfway down the block.
-Charlie, the bag?
-Sorry, the... the what?
-The bag, Charlie.
-What bag?
-The bag.
-The bag!
-Charlie?
- How could you leave the bag in the back
of a fucking cab, Charlie?
- In what part of your warped perception was this my fault
more than it was yours?
- Charlie, the bag is there, sat next to you on the seat.
All you have to do is hold onto it,
carry it out of the cab and into the store, Charlie!
-Bollocks.
Just... it was just bad luck.
Okay, can... can we just please just concentrate
on getting it back now? - Can we?
- Chloe, what did the cab firm say?
- "Thanks for your inquiry, one of our team
will get back to you within 48 hours."
-We don't have 48 hours.
Hello, love.
- I got a bad feeling about this one, Vic.
-About what?
- The heist. The gold.
Spain. - No, no, no, no.
Nothing to worry about. I got it handled.
A week from now, we'll be coastal royalty.
Tapas and sangria for all eternity.
-What about his schooling?
- Oh, well, they got schools in Costa del Sol.
Private schools.
- Well, what about all my friends here?
-You'll make new friends, son.
I'll take you to see Real Madrid at the Bernebéu,
and maybe get you a summer job...
as a bullfighter.
- Cool.
- Stop filling my son's head with your nonsense, Vic.
- You wanna stay in this shithole forever?
This is our shot. Trust me.
-Ah, Eddie Flowers.
The tongueless wonder.
Still playing with knives after what they done to ya?
- Leave him be.
- Lily Hill. - What do you want?
-Well, I was just passing by.
I thought I'd pop in and pay my respects.
-You'd paid 'em.
- Oh. How's life treating Vic?
You know he hasn't written to me.
Not even a postcard.
- I'm sure he'll catch up with you one day.
-Mm.
How's that young lad of yours?
That gang of his?
They're keeping their noses clean, are they?
- As a whistle. - Good.
Good.
-That room's for staff.
- You know, I never could smell the roses, Mrs. Hill.
But I could always sniff out a rotten apple.
- Eddie... show the gentleman the door.
-There's no need.
Send my regards to Albert.
- Right, okay, we need to find this guy.
Now, what do we know? - Just about everything.
He practically downloaded us his life story.
- Goat milk bar. - Screen printing business.
The virtual reality app.
The bike shop!
- Oh, shit. - Where's the bag?
-What bag?
-What do I look like?
- Well, you're 5'10-ish, dark, cropped hair.
Hazelnut eyes. - Do I look like a dick?
- A dick? - Does he look like a dick?
- No. No, I don't think you look like a dick.
- Then why are you jerking him off like a dick?
- Ohh! Okay, okay, okay!
I did have your gold... I mean bag.
But I don't anymore.
-Right, so who has it now?
-I... I put it up for auction.
- Who did you put it up for auction with, who?!
- The Xiang Sisters! - Ohh, not good.
- Who are the Xiang Sisters? They sound hot.
- Black market fences who auction anything
from kidneys to rocket launchers.
- Get me my gold bag. - I can't, I can't, I swear!
- Get me my gold bag! - I swear I can't.
All submissions to the auction are final.
-Oh, but you can get us in.
- Get us in! - Ah, okay, okay!
I can... I can get you into the auction.
-Well... thank you.
- This time... I want Windrush.
I need the best cleaner, nothing less.
-Windrush still not here.
But I can introduce you to the Murphy's Law Lads.
-Right!
A scrap for our allegiance. Mushy!
And... Tall Paul! - Yeah!
Billy here fights for our cooperation!
- Both? - Oh, your dad
would have knocked the shite out of both of 'em.
- Come on, Billy. - Right!
Let's be having ya!
Wait... wait...
-Come on, Billy.
-Do your worst!
- Go on there! Go on!
-Yes, Billy!
Oh, let me have a look at that.
You are King Royston's boy.
We shall break your man out for you, son.
- The number you have dialed is not in service.
Come on, Albert.
Where are you?
Eddie, could you come to the house please, love?
I need you to take a delivery to Father John's for me.
-Let's go.
- Tommy... Tommy, you're gonna be with me, right?
- Right, then. Let's get Norman out.
- You're a game lad, Billy. But we're going in heavy.
So you stay here and look after the lass.
-I'm going in with ya.
-I am not asking you, son.
Good lad.
Lady Carnation, bless us.
Lovely, great.
And now, we are blessed.
- Come on, Dad! - Right.
Let us make some noise, boys.
- Yes.
-Come on!
-What's a didicoy?
I heard Uncle Dean call you that at the campsite.
- A half gypsy. - Oh yeah?
Which half?
-My old man.
He was a traveler from up north.
My mum...
- she was a punk singer from the East End.
He was working as a bouncer at one of her shows
when they met.
Knocked her up.
- Problem was, he was promised the daughter
of another traveler family...
and they didn't take too kindly to him breaking up the wedding
and shacking up with some...
some settler slut.
The night I was born, he had a little run-in
with his betrothed's kin.
Took 12 blades to the gut.
-I'm so sorry, Billy.
-Yeah, well, I'm not.
Never knew the guy.
- Okay, I'm done playing!
-Uhh!
-Who the fuck are you?
-I'm Uncle Dean, pal.
-So you're a single girl.
-Or available.
- Norman, mate. Geez, you all right?
- Those bastards couldn't break me, boy.
- Come here. - Ah. Mm.
-Job done, lads!
-I bloody love Pikeys.
- Aren't you sweet?
You have impeccable taste!
- Private party.
Okay.
-Okay.
-Bandit territory.
- Keep an eye out. - I'll be at the bar.
It's the best vantage point, Al.
- I'm Maggie Xiang, and this is our house.
You are?
- My name's Chloe Koen and this is my client, Mr. Hill.
- And what are your client's interests?
- On this occasion, precious metals.
- Then he won't be disappointed.
-Booth number three.
- All sales are final
and payable immediately after sale.
- In lot four, we have a triple-headed vibrator
embellished with 100 white and pink sapphires,
pearls, and diamonds.
Bidding starts at $100,000.
- What can I get you there, sir?
-I, um...
virgin mojito.
-Sure thing.
- A must-have for every girl in town.
A purse made of solid gold ingots.
Place your bids!
-Motek!
- Heimels! What are you doing here?
- Double tequila shots all around.
- What are you doing here, Charlie?
You're a long way from home, dog.
-International business, fellas.
And you, you got your eye on anything?
- Diamonds, bubba. Always diamonds.
- Wire details for immediate transfer, $350,000.
- What else have you got in there?
- Don't you know it's rude to ask a girl
what she's got in her purse?
- Business is done, Mr. Hill.
Time to relax.
- Well, thank you very much for your hospitality,
but we actually have a plane to catch.
- Stop them!
-Hyuh!
- Looks like you've got problems, Charlie.
-No shit, Abel.
-We do owe you, Charlie.
-This is a robbery!
- Get me that diamond, Balabusta.
-I think this belongs to us.
- Sorry for theshtunk with Saul Gold, Albert.
I hope he didn't pull your trousers down too far.
- Don't worry about it. I'd say we're even.
-Taxi!
- Don't even think about it, Schmeckel.
-Brothers...
-My man!
Mm, mm, mm, mm, mm.
So...
How you want your scrilla?
- Cash.
- If you've trampled my azaleas, you're gonna be sorry.
-Lily, hold up.
It's me, Norman Gordon.
Oh, Jesus, Norman, you could've just rung the doorbell.
I was... hoping not to wake you, love.
-You all right, mate?
-Spot of bother, Lil.
I couldn't go to the hospital on this one.
-I'll get you a glass of water.
- How 'bout a splash of something stronger?
Hmm?
- Well, you won't be winning any beauty pageants, Norm,
that's for sure.
Just to have a shot at entering is all I ask.
-Norman?
Earth to Norman?
Oh, sorry, love, heh.
Must be a bit tired.
Well, you rest up.
- Ow! - Oh, sorry, love.
Can you manage? - Yeah.
Oh, thank you.
-I'll check in on you later.
- What's in there now? - Go on, go on.
-Come on. Come on.
- I figure you'll be wanting what's in this wee pouch?
- And those readies are all yours.
-Well, I was thinking...
about putting some Roman columns outside my caravan.
- You are all right with us, son.
- Thank you, Uncle Dean. - Enjoy.
-Thank you.
We got our diamonds back, baby! - Yes!
- All right, boys, don't stop till you've found it.
- Vic? What happened, mate?
Oh!
Get yourself in there. Mind your head.
Horrible bastards, what'd they do to ya?
- Oh, man, horrible's not the word, Hate 'Em.
Being in the hole is incredibly...
enlightening.
- Anything to declare? - Yeah.
Don't go to New York.