Pennyworth (2019) s02e01 Episode Script

The Heavy Crown

1
[Mr. Pennyworth] If you could
find a good household.
Do right, you're a butler
before you're 40.
I want to be my own man.
Nobody's their own man, Son. Nobody.
I started up the security firm.
You are way too softhearted
to be a businessman.
- You'll be eaten up.
- Yeah, well, we'll see, won't we?
- [Esme] You were in the army?
- [Alfred] Ten years.
I'll have no more to do with it now.
Peaceful life for me.
[grunts]
- I am so sorry. Thomas Wayne.
- My card.
Pennyworth Security.
Mr. Pennyworth, I'm Martha Kane.
How can I help you, Miss Kane?
[Martha] I have a job for you.
Ten thousand quid.
And she's got plenty more work for us.
What's the bad news?
[Alfred] She's a No Name.
Why is a nice American society girl like
you mixed up with the No Name League?
I could ask the same of you.
[Thomas] I got a distinct sense
they know.
They know I'm CIA.
- Will you marry me?
- [chuckling] Yes. Yes, I will.
Esme!
[Alfred] You knew who killed Esme
and you covered it up.
I don't trust you.
Never have, never will.
[Prime Minister] The Raven Society
want to overthrow the government,
set up a fascist utopia.
My name is James Harwood.
That man tortured me. He has to die.
You. Why aren't you dead?
I've got important friends, me.
[Harwood] Will you come with me?
Well, I have a battle ahead.
I'll need loyal friends.
- My God! James.
- Hello, Frances.
I will destroy my enemies
and lead this country back to greatness.
[Frances] We're starting a civil war.
[cheering]
Harwood is staging a coup.
He's got the army on his side
- and he's abducted the queen.
- Your Majesty.
[The Queen] You must never
tell anyone about this.
Not a soul. Who'd believe me?
You said that you like me.
I find that I like you, too.
[Martha screams]
Thomas!
[Harwood] All is not yet lost.
A great leader
prepares for every possibility.
You have to promise me
that you'll always think well of me,
whatever people might say.
He was upset about
all that Raven Society lot.
Why? He's not one of them.
- Shut it!
- Dad, don't do this.
I'm sorry, Son.
God bless England!
- [crowd gasping and screaming]
- [device beeping]
[gun clacking]
[Harry] Honestly, I really don't know.
They didn't tell me. Why would they?
- I I swear on my children's life.
- [cocks gun]
I don't know anything.
You shouldn't swear
on your children's lives.
Not when you're lying.
I am not lying.
What are your kids' names?
Terry and Sh Sharon.
It's the little one's birthday tomorrow.
Well, the wife will be worried sick.
Please, miss, have a heart.
Do I look like I have a heart?
[breathing heavily]
Yeah, you do.
You look like a good, kind person.
Well, I'm not. Tell me what you know,
or Terry and Sharon
will never see you again.
Well, I can't tell you
what I don't know, can I?
I don't even care about politics.
I never wanted any part of this shit.
I don't know anything.
You can't do this.
I think I can.
Swan's Farm.
Garton Magna.
[exhales, uncocks gun]
Thank you.
[pounding on door]
[man] Union guards! Open up!
She's in here! Help!
[man 1] Oi! Hey! Get her!
[man 2] Come here! Now!
[men shouting]
[male narrator] A year has passed
since Lord Harwood escapes captivity
and began the armed struggle.
How things have changed.
England is once again
a land of hope and glory.
The people of Norwich came out
in their cheerful thousands
to celebrate liberation
by Raven Union forces.
"England, rejoice," declared
Lord Harwood to the happy throng.
"Final victory is near."
The leftist factions will soon be driven
from Manchester and Liverpool,
and then onward to London.
Oops! Look out, Mother!
The littlun wants to join in.
Forward we go, one and all,
marching merrily to victory.
Lord Harwood is a formidable character.
A year ago,
whilst locked up in the Tower of London,
he contrived
to blow up the prime minister
and most of the political establishment,
freeing himself
and sparking a civil war.
He aims to establish himself
as a fascist military dictator
under the flag of the Raven Union.
The Union's opponents,
that is the queen,
surviving moderates,
the old No Name Leagues
and anybody else not fascist
are working together
in what they call the "English League."
Formally, the queen's in charge,
but actual power is in the hands
of a High Council of 20 or so delegates,
led by the prime minister,
Archbishop Potter.
A shitfest.
Yes, ma'am. They're not well organized,
and the Union
have the regular army on their side.
They have tanks, artillery and manpower,
and they're up against poorly armed,
poorly led civilians.
As of now,
the Union controls 90% of the country.
The League still holds London
north of the river,
but they're surrounded and under siege.
Once the Union takes London,
that's the ball game.
They win.
It'll make Arkham Asylum
look like a country club.
Tragic, but inevitable, no?
Well, the US military could intervene,
as I've respectfully recommended
in my addendum.
The Raven Union
are evil sons of bitches,
but they're gonna win, right?
Right.
So, officially, we're neutral.
But we're gonna be nice to them
as discreetly as we can.
You were doing a fine job
over there, Thomas.
We want you to go back
as station chief.
Well, thank you. Um [clears throat]
I'm honored.
If you can't work with the program,
this is where you get
to step out gracefully.
Are you with us?
100%?
Yes, ma'am. 100%.
Then go kick some ass for us.
[jazz music playing]
- [music continues playing]
- [crowd cheering, whistling]
[indistinct chatter]
Tell me what's wrong.
You'll say I'm being neurotic.
Tell me anyway.
Yesterday, I nearly killed
a man in cold blood.
But you didn't.
I'm turning mean and hard, Victor.
I'm turning into somebody I don't like.
You went behind enemy lines
and came back with information
that could change the course of the war.
I like you.
It's just, um
sometimes I I scare myself.
You're being neurotic.
[Union Officer] I beg your pardon.
I said Harwood's a loony old twat, huh.
And what?
- [cocks gun]
- Oh, fuck off, mate.
- [fires]
- [screams]
What the fuck are you doing,
you bastard, huh?
Are you fucking mad?
Good evening, gentlemen, ladies.
The man insulted His Grace Lord Harwood.
Vile obscenities.
I won't have it.
I'll fucking have you, mate.
You're dead.
Shut it, Dobson.
Get this idiot out of here now.
You're dead, mate. Dead.
Yeah? You don't know who I am.
But I do, mate. Don't come back.
- Come on.
- [grunts] Fuck off.
How do you get filth like that in here?
There's a war on, sir.
We welcome everybody, regardless.
Your first time here, I expect?
Our policy is no politics, no firearms.
Everyone rubs along together
and enjoys 'emself.
Sheri
this gentleman
forgot to check his firearm.
Perhaps we'll check it
into the cloakroom for him.
Take care of it.
- Valuable weapon.
- Your weapon's perfectly safe with us.
Oh, yeah. Nice piece.
German engineering, eh?
Crumpets.
- Thanks, Sheri.
- No worries, Alfie.
She'll bring you a ticket.
Very soon we're going to
overrun this little sanctuary of yours.
You'll learn to show
more respect to Union officers.
Respect?
- Madam, gentlemen, enjoy your evening.
- [rock and roll music plays]
[indistinct chatter]
How's your night going?
The man's correct, you know.
You should learn to be more respectful.
Should have thrown him out on his ass.
He was drinking champagne.
Gets one free bullet.
Congratulations, by the way.
I hear you've been promoted
to the League's High Council.
Oh. Poisoned chalice, old boy.
Commiserations would be
more appropriate.
- Um, you have real champagne here?
- Nah.
Chateau Bermondsey.
I have some proper single malt
if you fancy it, though.
Splendid.
If we might repair to your office,
we have business to discuss.
[Martha] For a simple abduction?
That's outrageous.
- That's dollars, mind you
- [Aziz and Martha scoff]
plus expenses.
You asked half that for the last job.
Apples and oranges.
Abducting's much more technical
than blotting.
No doubt. I shan't haggle with you.
10% up front.
That's the people's money.
That could be spent on feeding refugees
or buying arms or medicine.
- Someone woke up grumpy today.
- What will you spend it on?
Fast cars, loose women.
[chuckling]
And the rest of it, he'll squander.
He's teasing you, Martha.
[sniffles]
It's very sad
to see you like this, Alfred.
You used to have moral principles.
I used to have a teddy bear, too.
Toby.
Wore a little hat and a red jacket.
This is the chap.
Colonel John Salt of the Union militia.
More of an admin type
than any kind of soldier.
Ran a chain of groceries before the war.
- Why do you want him?
- Uh, he's available.
Where is he?
Uh, he has a mistress in a place called
Swan's Farm, Garton Magna, in Rutland.
He shows up at random times,
but at least once a week.
- Consider it done.
- Yeah, at your prices, I should hope so.
[door opens]
I like that woman. Fiery.
How are we doing?
[Alfred] Yeah, with this month's takings
and a couple more good side jobs,
we're sorted.
I like the fiery ones.
You know where they're at.
It's the quiet ones.
You don't know what they're thinking.
- What's he on about?
- [Alfred] Women.
[Bazza scoffs]
What does he know about women?
- America, boys. America.
- [Bazza and Daveboy chuckle]
We're on our way.
A fella was telling me it's all lies,
what you see in the films.
Stands to reason they make it
look better than it is.
But if it's half as good as it looks,
it's twice as good as here.
- [Bazza] Oh.
- We'll see.
Stay here if you want, mate.
No, no, I'm coming.
Youse don't get rid of me that easy.
Slangevar.
Cheers.
[theme music playing]
[The Queen on phone]
Hello again, Mrs. P.
[Mary] Oh, hello, Your Majesty.
I'll see if he's in.
[whispering] It's her again.
[whispering] I'm not here. On a job.
I'm sorry, ma'am.
He's not in. On a job, he said.
I see.
Tell him he's a cruel beast
and I despise him.
Yes, ma'am.
She says you're a cruel beast
and she despises you.
Message received.
Third time she's called this week.
Mmm. I'll talk to her next time.
She does go on.
You think
she'd have better things to do.
[Alfred chuckles]
I've a job out of town.
I'll be gone a few days, I expect.
Well, it's good money.
We'll soon have enough to go.
Go?
To America.
[sighs] I was talking to Mrs. Applebaum,
who knows these things.
And she says it costs
thousands and thousands to get a visa.
And then when you get there,
a bottle of milk costs £2.
Don't you worry about money.
I'm sorting that.
[Mary sighs]
Did you look at the brochure I gave you?
What about California, eh?
Now there's a place.
Sunshine, fresh fruit.
We could have a house
in an orange grove.
Very nice
if you like that sort of thing.
- You like an orange.
- I like cabbages, too.
Don't mean I wanna live
in a cabbage patch.
[sighs] America's a big place.
There's every kind of house
you can imagine.
I have a house already.
I don't want to go to America.
You don't know your own mind, Mom.
You'll change your mind
once you get there. You'll see.
- I won't.
- We can't stay here.
[sighs] I don't see why not.
The Raven Union's gonna attack London
before the year's out.
There'll be a proper argy-bargy.
Bombs, tanks, fires, looting, here.
Your father's a big hero
to the Raven Union.
A martyr.
They'll treat me very well, I expect.
Do you really wanna be around
all these sad memories?
What sad memories?
I loved your father.
I like to be reminded of him.
I don't.
This house, this whole city
is nothing but sad memories.
It's where I killed my own father.
[sighs]
It's where Esme died.
I can't stay here, Mom. I have to go.
I'm not saying you shouldn't.
- You should.
- What, and leave you on your own?
That's life.
I haven't got much of it left anyway.
["Here Comes the Night" playing]
The long and lonely night
[guard] Stop!
But she's with my guy
His arm around her
like it used to be with me
Oh, it makes me want to cry
Here comes the long night
Here comes the long night
[panting]
[vocalizing]
[Alfred] That's it. Swan's Farm.
Now we wait.
Let's get the kettle on, Baz.
[soldier] You in the front,
pick up the pace!
Come on, keep it moving!
Come on.
- You can't do this to me. [grunts]
- [indistinct shouting]
[man] Leave him alone. Leave him alone.
[grunts]
- [grunts]
- [indistinct shouting]
[man] Leave him alone!
That's enough, lads. Stand down.
Norfolk's finest, eh?
How are we? All right? Good.
I'm Captain Sykes.
[sniffs]
Have you not heard of deodorant?
Co-op do a good one.
You can't beat the Co-op, can you?
Quality and value.
Now, then, we're charging you with
subversion and conspiring
to commit violent acts.
[all clamoring] What?
I don't care if you're Herman
and his fucking Hermits.
You're here.
It's job on.
You'll be interviewed,
given an opportunity to confess.
If you've nowt to confess
think of something.
Goes easier for all of us.
We keep our quota,
you keep your well-being.
Any questions?
No? Good.
[all clamoring]
[Daveboy] Says here
there's brothels out west
where all the girls are dead ringers
for Hollywood film stars.
Imagine that, eh?
You told us that two days ago.
Worth repeating.
I suspect
you'll be disappointed.
If there's restaurants
that look like dinosaurs,
I don't see why there can't be tarts
that look like film stars.
- Restaurants like dinosaurs?
- Dinosaurs, pal.
Hats, cakes, all sorts.
What's the point?
Once you're inside,
you can't see they're dinosaurs.
Well, I agree,
but it supports
the tarts and film stars proposition.
[scoffs]
[vehicle approaching]
Two Rovers bracketing a Jag,
taking the farm road.
He's our boy. Colonel John Salt.
[Alfred] Nice.
Dark in three hours.
I'll have a kip.
[Vikki] Oh, my poor hero.
You must be exhausted.
- A drink? A bath?
- Mmm.
Dinner?
In that order.
Sherry, please, my dear.
Where would you like your guest, sir?
In the workshop, please, Hobbes.
I'll be along shortly. [exhales]
Sorry to bring work with me again.
There's always more to be done, you see.
No, no, no. What you do is so important.
I don't mind.
It's rather thrilling, actually,
being part of it all.
What do you want for dinner?
We have steak or chicken.
No, I've had my quota
of red meat for the week.
So, chicken.
Then chicken it shall be.
Who have you caught? What did they do?
I never say names. You know that.
Are there cutlets?
I couldn't manage a whole bird.
Cutlets it is.
I'll make that lemon sauce you like.
So, Katie Browning,
how long have you been
engaged in subversive activity?
Haven't. I'm a student.
Oh.
- What of?
- Art.
I like art.
Mother's maiden name?
Don't know.
Why not?
I'm a foundling.
Hmm.
Doesn't know.
Foundling.
I hate these forms.
Don't make the bloody boxes big enough.
Now, let's see.
List the names of all those persons
you know to be members
of subversive organizations.
No.
I said
list the names
of all those persons you know to be
members of subversive organizations.
I don't know anyone.
Do you not? Then think on.
I don't know anyone.
The gaffer wants names.
Best keep him happy.
He's not fond of subversives.
I'm not a subversive.
You're the subversive.
Then I'd be sat in your little room,
wouldn't I?
But I'm not.
You're sat in my little room.
I wouldn't keep anyone in a room.
I'm not a fascist.
Nor me.
Politics, eh? Bloody waste of time.
Why are you here, then?
I'm not allowed to answer
personal questions.
Unprofessional.
Now come on.
Be a love.
Give us some names.
Maybe you just like being mean?
See that little box there.
That's the uncooperative box.
I put a tick in that, not good.
Gaffer gets involved,
then you'll be sent to the labs
in the remedial annex.
- You haven't answered my question.
- What's that?
Why are you here?
I'm here because I'm here.
Same as you.
Now, I've got other folk to interview.
- You have a think.
- You have a think.
[softly] Dad, hide.
There's someone upstairs.
All right, lads?
Who are they?
You tell me.
I thought they were with you.
- What's your name?
- Alfie.
Huh.
That's funny.
I had a son called Alfie
but he died.
[low growling]
[gasps]
[Daveboy] Cheers.
Another bad dream?
Yeah.
Daveboy's mom again.
You should be so lucky.
[George whimpering]
Good evening, George.
Welcome.
I'm honored to have
such a distinguished guest.
Who are you?
Everybody says you're
a very brave man, Mr. Orwell.
What everybody says is usually wrong.
Back in the Raven Society days,
before the war,
I worked at a place we called Room 101.
A torture chamber, really.
One soon discovers
that very few people are truly brave.
Most of what we call bravery
is stupidity or ignorance
or a lack of imagination.
Please, tell me who you are.
My name is Salt.
You write clever books,
so you're not stupid or ignorant.
Which means either you lack imagination
or you're that rare man of true courage.
Mr. Salt, what do you want from me?
I suspect an imagination deficit.
I suspect you sat there
in your ivory tower
and simply couldn't imagine
that your mockery of a noble cause
would have consequences.
When word gets out
that you have abducted me,
- there will be an outcry.
- Mmm.
- An international outcry.
- True.
But Mr. Orwell, suppose for a moment
that word doesn't get out.
Suppose nobody knows where you are.
Suppose you simply vanished.
- Imagine that.
- What do you want from me?
Mmm.
Let's start with repentance.
Repentance?
Fine. You'll have it. I repent.
I'll sign whatever you like.
Just let me go. I repent.
Signing bits of paper is not repentance!
[sighs] Repentance comes
from your heart.
My heart? Christ.
All right, I repent in my heart.
Believe me, in this moment,
I am truly repentant.
Very good.
If you're sincere, I'll let you go.
You have to swear on your honor
that you'll never write another word
against us.
I swear. Not another word.
As God is your witness.
As God is my witness, I swear.
[gulps]
[sighs]
You're lying, Mr. Orwell.
- But I was lying, too.
- [breathing heavily]
Your repentance is worthless.
I just wanted you to confirm
my analysis of your character.
- And you did.
- I'm not lying.
- You're just the usual type of man.
- [screaming]
[choking]
A cowardly hypocrite.
Mmm.
[whistling]
Pardon me, Mr. Orwell.
[George screaming]
[grunting]
[Vikki and Salt moaning]
Hello.
[Vikki screams, gasps]
Oh, my God!
- Oh!
- [grunts]
You gave us a proper fright.
We thought someone
was getting killed in here.
- [Daveboy grunts]
- All clear.
[Daveboy] Thank fuck.
- We thought there was murder afoot.
- I just said that.
When you're ready, mate.
We're in a bit of a hurry.
[Salt] Warm for the time of year.
It is. Muggy, even.
May I ask, why me?
Why not you?
I'm of no importance.
A supply depot wallah.
Your paymasters are misinformed
or incompetent.
Hmm. Happens.
How much are you being paid?
- Who says we're being paid?
- [chuckles]
Enthusiasts? I don't think so.
Whatever you're being paid
to take me in,
I'll pay you more to let me go.
We hear that a lot.
I imagine you're paid well.
Seller's market.
$1,000, somewhere in that range?
I'll pay you $10,000
or the sterling equivalent to let me go.
You name your price.
Why would the Union pay so much
for a supply depot wallah?
No, they wouldn't.
My duties for the Union
require I have personal access
to large amounts of cash.
Hmm.
- You steal from the Union?
- I have claustrophobia.
I can't be a prisoner.
We haven't been formally introduced.
You know my name.
I do.
I confess, I know yours, too
Mr. Pennyworth.
I recognize you from the newspapers.
Your father is a hero of mine.
Hero of mine, too.
You must have very complicated
feelings about him.
[scoffs]
Checkpoint.
["Virginia Plain" playing]
Make me a deal and make it straight
All signed and sealed
I'll take it
To Robert E. Lee
I'll show it
- [man] Oh!
- [men screaming]
Take me on a roller coaster
Take me for an airplane ride
Take me for a six days wonder
[Salt] What sort of man was your father?
Misguided.
Hmm.
We can let time
be the judge of that, eh?
I imagine he was a man of principle.
A man of discipline.
What's it matter to you
what sort of man he was?
- What's it matter to anyone?
- Forgive me.
I don't mean to pry.
I like to know what makes people tick.
- People don't tick.
- Of course they do.
You, for instance,
tick like a taxi meter.
Money drives your wheels.
Tick, tick, tick.
Not at all.
Just a means to an end, chief.
- Means to an end.
- What end is that?
None of your business, really, is it?
Ah, no real plans, then.
Vague dreams.
Well, that's where you're wrong, mate.
[vehicle approaching]
He's all yours.
Goodbye, young man.
Perhaps we'll meet again.
I doubt it.
- Was he any trouble?
- Quiet as a lamb.
Bit of a nosey parker, mind you,
but otherwise a proper gentleman.
Good, good.
Thank you, Alfie.
You've hit a six with this chap.
Always happy to help with a noble cause.
[woman singing]
All right, man?
Cheers, pal.
[continues singing]
[applause]
[knocking on door]
[Martha] I'm not expecting anyone.
[man] Goodie.
Thomas.
I'm sorry I show up unannounced. Your
Your phone seems to be out of service.
Uh, come in.
Boots, Darren, this is Thomas.
He's an old friend.
- [Darren] Thomas.
- [Boots] Hi, Thomas.
Uh, guys, go get a pint.
See you later.
- Who are those characters?
- Oh, they're in my unit.
I'm a lieutenant in the League army.
Well, mostly it's just manning
the siege barricades
and the occasional recon mission.
- Fact-finding kind of stuff.
- Holy smokes, Martha.
- You're a lieutenant. You have a unit.
- [chuckles]
It's been a while, huh?
Where were we?
[Thomas chuckles] Uh
That is hard to forget.
- You all better?
- Good as new.
I'll tell you, the last year has given
me a whole new respect for doctors.
It's the only clean profession.
But, um
how the heck are you?
- I'm good.
- Well, you seem
you seem happy, glowing almost.
I guess I am happy.
This life is very simple.
I like simplicity.
Well, I'm I'm happy that
you're happy, Martha.
[chuckles nervously]
I don't like to be a grinch
but you're preparing to make a last
desperate stand for a lost cause.
How many people get to do that?
We're going to win, Thomas.
They won't take London.
How so?
They'll be coming in with tanks
and Howitzers.
You you have rusty Brownings.
London and the League are doomed.
Still working for the CIA?
CIA, no. I'm a cultural affairs attaché.
When will you people do the right thing
and step in to stop
those fascist bastards?
[clears throat] It's not gonna happen,
I'm afraid.
Then what are you gonna do?
Don't say "you." It's not me.
I'm not the United States government.
We [sighs] They
they are staying neutral.
It's not what I would do,
but I'm not in charge.
[in German accent]
"I was only obeying orders."
Oh, come on, that's not fair.
So, if America's neutral,
then what have you come back for?
To sit and watch?
Yeah, pretty much.
I'm here as an observer, that's
that's all.
[sighs]
I'm sorry. I'm being a hard-ass.
I'll stop.
It's good to see you, Thomas.
It's it's good to see you, too.
I don't
I don't know why
but I do believe that
I actually missed you.
Well, I've missed you, too, Martha.
And I hope that
we can always be friends.
I hope so, too.
That that is to say
the the big news is
I'm engaged.
To be married.
No kidding.
Wow.
Well, congratulations.
Why would we not be friends?
Well, absolutely.
That's that's what I was hoping.
There is no reason.
Who's the lucky gal?
- Betsy Van Wyck.
- [laughs]
I can see her now.
- Well, she is a fine young woman.
- Mmm-hmm.
And it was the right thing to do.
Things just happened
before I was aware somehow.
Oh, you poor sap.
Look, I
I know you deserve
more of an explanation than that,
but, frankly, I don't have one.
- Why do I deserve an explanation?
- I forgot all the constant questions.
- We had a relationship, damn it.
- We made out.
I had your cock in my hand for maybe
five seconds and then you got shot.
That's not a relationship.
That's a funny story.
Names changed
to protect the innocent, I hope.
Hell, no.
[clears throat] So, what's up?
"Up"?
Well, you're a CIA spy
and you didn't come here to get laid.
What do you want to know?
What do you think
you could possibly tell me?
There is a steam-over coming,
and you're standing
in the middle of the road
with your damn eyes shut.
- What else do I need to know?
- Where the door is.
Martha
I'm your friend. I'm worried about you.
Well, as you can see,
I'm perfectly happy.
I know where the door is.
If you need anything
that I can help you with,
I am always here for you.
As a friend.
[Martha sighs]
You be well, Thomas.
We can sit here till next week.
I've nowt else to do.
All your friends have given us names.
- They're not my friends.
- Lone wolf, eh? [chuckles]
Do you smoke?
There's Woodbines in the larder
if you want one.
I don't smoke.
There if you want one.
What kind of art do you do?
- Pictures.
- Of what?
[sighs] You wouldn't understand.
Ride your high horse if you like.
There's been hundreds
of proud little misses just like you
come through here.
Grist to the mill.
Now, for the last time,
give us some names.
I won't.
Do as you like.
If I could do as I liked,
I'd be an air hostess.
You're seeing the world and you're
helping people at the same time.
But no such luck.
I'm here, doing my job.
- Do you see that?
- I see that you're an unhappy woman.
And I forgive you.
Not your place to forgive me, pet.
[door closes]
Alfie, a word.
Have a seat.
Heard about what happened.
Shocking.
- You all right?
- A little deaf.
Any news on Salt?
He was seen back at Union HQ
this morning.
Hard at work, full of beans.
- Who done it, you think?
- That would be my question to you.
As of now,
I couldn't venture a guess, Mr. Aziz.
There's a hundred firms
might have done it.
I'll put the feelers out, obviously.
This sort of malarkey
hurts my business, too.
Whoever they are, they knew
when and where we were meeting.
You've got a loose talker in your ranks.
Large teams like yours, bound to happen.
Who, though?
Who among all those I trust
is capable of such a betrayal, hmm?
I find myself taking it personally,
and I despise people
who take things personally.
[scoffs]
We was here. Ask anyone.
I will.
And I don't like your
high-handed manner, Mr. Aziz.
Who's capable of such a betrayal?
You, mate, for one.
You've done me wicked
on several occasions.
How many poor bastards
have you turned over in your time?
Untold, do I lie?
- Uh
- Well, then.
And if you're fool enough
to move a high-value asset
with one car and two dim plods,
that's what you get, turned over.
You're right.
The fault's mine,
and I'm seeking someone to blame.
I apologize for the accusation.
Think nothing of it.
I'm just extremely disappointed.
Salt was a big fish.
Close to the leadership.
- It's not what you told me.
- No.
Your prices are quite
high enough as it is.
Did he say anything interesting?
Like what?
I don't know. Perhaps he mentioned
something called Stormcloud.
Stormcloud? No. What's Stormcloud?
Probably nothing. Just rumors.
[typewriter clacking]
[woman screaming in distance]
So, this is the silly girl
that won't talk to us, eh?
[Sykes] Yes, sir.
I like to sit down with
our problem cases for a last interview
before they enter the system.
Sometimes a calm fatherly chat
can change minds.
I sense that may be
possible with you, young lady.
- What do you say?
- Fuck off.
Plucky. Jolly good. I admire pluck.
Perhaps a quiet chat isn't the thing.
Take your clothes off.
No.
- Do as you're told.
- What's wrong with you?
Why are you doing this?
Aren't you ashamed?
Sykes, what does
the code of conduct stipulate?
Section 22B expressly allows nudity
during coercive interviews.
[Sutfcliffe] Nothing wrong with us.
It's you that's wrong.
Put the kettle on, would you, Bet?
[Katie gasps]
[sobs]
[fly unzips]
- Tell you what, sir.
- [chuckles]
[both grunt]
Why don't you put the fucking kettle on?
- [Katie] My God, no, stop.
- [squishing]
Please, stop. He's dead.
[grunts] Doctor, are you?
Put the kettle on, Bet, he says.
I'm the fucking tea lady, am I?
I don't think so.
[grunts]
That's Captain Sykes to you.
[Katie whimpers]
Oh. Captain Sykes.
Where are you taking her?
Hard case.
Gaffer wants her in the annex.
Is he still in the interview suite?
I've got invoices here for him to sign.
He's having a snooze.
- Long interview.
- I'll leave him be, then.
[Sykes] Best.
Right, then, you two.
There'll be a scone waiting for me
when I get back,
or I'll know the reason why.
Not one of them shit scones,
mind, one with currants.
[chuckling]
Cheeky.
Best find a bus stop, then, eh?
- [Katie] What the fuck is happening?
- Never you mind.
- [upbeat music playing]
- [crowd cheering]
[Alfred] Hello, Sandra.
Nearly said a penny for your thoughts.
I know you hate it when I say that.
I was thinking how smashing you look.
Is that a new dress?
- Do you like it?
- Mmm.
Dad says it's what pop singers
are wearing these days.
I think I look like a tart.
No, love, you don't. You couldn't
look like a tart if you tried.
[snickers]
Give us a song, would you?
You're sending me away
so you can talk business
with that man coming over here,
- aren't you?
- I am.
Hate it when you do that.
Go on.
- Gully.
- Alfie.
- Please.
- Thank you.
High life, huh?
I'm proud of you, son.
Ah, it's all rented.
Here.
- Lost comrades.
- We should be with them.
- We will be.
- But not quite yet.
Mmm.
There you go.
Nice one.
Any trouble?
Not at all.
Salt paid up fair and square.
- No haggling.
- Odd bird.
Was he? I didn't really get much
of a chance to speak with him.
Turns out he's top brass.
- Oh?
- Close to the Union leadership.
We could have asked
for twice what we got.
[chuckles]
Well, I'll be damned.
Didn't look like top brass, did he?
Catering Corps type. Good luck to him.
Mmm.
Alfie, you and I should
work together again.
Nah.
That was a one-off, Gully.
I've got enough cash now
to get the fuck out of here.
Ah.
Jumping from the sinking ship, huh?
- Aren't you?
- Oh, heavens, no.
You know me. I love a crisis.
[chuckles]
Shame you're going.
It's good to work with
men that you can trust.
I mean, really
trust.
Yeah.
It is.
- [hissing]
- [man gasping]
[man yelling]
[screaming]
[liquid bubbling]
Eleven seconds.
Good job.
But look at his face.
Unsightly.
Consider the visual impact.
If the Stormcloud project
is put into action,
it must seem efficient and humane.
Casualties must look
as if they died peacefully.
Follow me.
[theme music playing]
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