Bergerac (1981–1991): Season 4, Episode 6 - Chrissie - full transcript

A trio of young punks are snatching handbags around the island, their victims including fashion designers Simone and Paul Demoins, whose latest sketches are stolen. Louis, the least cold-hearted of the three robbers, befriends teenaged runaway Chrissie, who has come to Jersey to look for an aunt and who is the nanny to the Demoins' neglected little girl Michelle. Whilst Paul and Simone are in Paris, Chrissie and Michelle go on the run with Louis. Jim tracks them down but there is no happy ending.

Right.

(CARS HONKING)

(DISCO MUSIC PLAYING)

Cowl neck, cut-away shoulders, hip sash.

- No hip sash.
- Oh, you're such a tease.

- Slit skirt, remember?
- Oh!

Patience, my dear Deborah, patience.

Lips are sealed.

- Hello, Jim. Hello, Susan.
- Business looks good?

Yeah, but I do miss The Royal Barge sometimes.

- Well, they say you never forget you first love.
- That as well, Jim.



That's what it's all about, Lil,
putting things behind us.

- Jim.
- Oh, hello, Deborah.

You missed seeing Kim on Sunday.
Flying visit, half-term, you forgot, right?

I put it behind me already.
Years of practice. Join us?

It's all right. I've got a table.

It's Susan, actually.
Someone would like to meet you.

Happy days.

Simone and Paul Demoins,
this is Susan...

Young. Susan Young. Hello.

And Jim Bergerac, my old thing.

Nice to meet you, Susan. And...

- It is, you see, Simone. It is.
- Paul...

Drape crossover, front diagonal seam
to change the line. It's very clever.

Padded shoulders in two colours.
You can't be sure.



- I'm sorry?
- Paul and Simone run the fashion house.

Is this one of yours?

You bought it ready to wear?
Knightsbridge, spring perhaps?

- Yes.
- I'm sorry. Do have a drink with us.

- Well, actually...
- No, please.

- Are you celebrating?
- Almost finished. Just a few trimmings.

Their new collection of haute couture,
Paul and Simone are showing in Paris.

Jim's a policeman, a very busy policeman.

Oh, dear. And I was about to invite a girl
with such fine taste to our little good luck party.

- The Bureau will survive.
- Half an hour, all right?

So, this is your first Paris show,
is it, Mrs Demoins?

He deserves it.
Paul's been knocking at the door for so long.

He's doing his most sophisticated work now.

- Ah, Michelle, stop it!
- That's enough. Michelle!

- What can you do with her?
- Well, I don't know. Looks rather fun to me.

(LAUGHING) Michelle, stop it!

Take her away from here. Oh!

And not one word of argument from you.
Go on.

She wants to show you
some of he paintings, Ms Demoins.

Not now, dear.
You can see I've got all these people here.

Hello. Are you being looked after?
Isn't it marvellous?

Oh, hello, Debbie.
You part of this circus, are you?

- Just helping to get the show on the road.
- She seems a bit on edge, Mrs Demoins.

Oh, Simone, watches him like a hawk.
Scared stiff he'll talk too much.

- About what?
- His designs.

That's what the business
with you dress was all about.

Paul says his design was stolen
when he showed his cocktail range in Milan.

- Stolen?
- Change the handwriting, accessorise,

it can be in the shops in a month
with somebody else's name on it.

There you are.

I'm a great believer in first impressions, you see.
Now then, Susan, isn't it?

Trouser suits are fun.
You have the body to be more daring.

A little bit of naughtiness goes a long way.

- Ah, I'm sorry...
- No, be my guest, Mr Demoins.

Come and meet the team.
The ones who stitch us up.

Have fun.

Hey, Bill!

Hey, you lot, come back here!

Come back here!

Come back, you bastards. Wait!

Come back!

Hey, you!

Come back!

(SHOUTING) God damn you, lads!

Move it! Move that bloody thing!

DEBORAH: Thank you, Thank you,
Can you all hear?

As a friend of Paul and Simone,
I want to ask you, everyone,

to drink a toast to them
and wish them well.

I'm sure you want to thank them
for putting our small island on the fashion map.

It is midway between London and Paris after all,
Paul and Simone.

(PEOPLE APPLAUDING)

WOMAN: Now, this is supposed to be
that tree in the field,

two big bendy branches
and a nest on the top.

Put the nest in, surrounded by leaves.

And two nests and more leaves.

Three nests? All right. No more than three.

- Four, five.
- Don't spoil it now.

- Six, seven.
- That's enough.

- Eight, nine, ten...
- Stop!

-...11 , 12, 13...
- 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Hello, you, too.
- She's shy.

She's wet.

Yeah. I suppose we ought to
get into something else. Come on, Michelle.

- No, it's all right. I didn't mean...
- No, I have to get her changed.

Hey, are you from London? It's the accent.

Yeah, I'm here to look after her for Mrs Demoins.

- I'm a nursery nurse student.
- Oh, bit of pocket money for the summer, is it?

- Chrissie.
- Jim.

Come on, trouble.

It's an absolute disgrace
when you've paid for safe parking.

Mr Carpenter, will you please take a seat?
In there.

Reached right inside the car.
I've never seen anything like it.

Mr Carpenter...

Four of us. Come away together
for the first time in years.

- You got a problem, Peggy?
- Oh, Sergeant Bergerac.

This is Mr Carpenter.
He's been waiting to see someone.

Twenty-five minutes. That's how long.
Nobody here but the secretary.

Mrs Carpenter has been robbed.

I'm tired.

We'll just look along here
then that's it for today.

Okay.

That's how it started off,
at night, with the occasional snatch.

They'e spreading their wings,
two in one night?

- There must be a dozen there at least.
- At least.

- Well, this is a disgrace, Sam.
- Daylight robbery, you might say.

You'll want copies, I suppose?
Here, get these run off.

Of course, eventually,
we shall have ou own research department.

Planning to be a power in the land,
are we, Charlie?

If that's what turns out to be necessary, Sam.

Whatever you and your committee are about,
I get it first, okay?

Don't worry, Sam. I owe you one.

Hey!

Move!

(HONKING)

Move!

You go yourselves to the bank,
with the takings, do you?

Yes.

- In a car?
- Yes.

- Twice a week?
- Mmm-hmm.

With the same briefcase?

How much were you carrying?

A few cheques, credit slips,
very little cash.

- How much?
- What does it matter?

We're not talking about the money. The sketches
were in the briefcase, all our designs for Paris.

Simone.

She was talking them
to the bank for safe-keeping.

Obviously, they were opportunist thieves.

They must have watched you
and worked out when you banked the cash.

You really think so?

Well, you dresses are already made,
aren't they?

Why would anyone wait till now
to steal the sketches?

- You don't think...
- Darling, it can't be anything else.

Look, I'm sorry, but I don't understand
why you've come to me.

I mean, strictly speaking,
this is none of this department's business.

The news mustn't get out.

If it does, if whoever has the sketches
realises just how valuable they are...

Well, that's why we've come to you.
Please, Sergeant, as a personal friend...

Sorry to interupt.
Mr Carpenter is on his way up.

Excuse me.

Ah, Sergeant, I had to call in.

The lad on the motorbike, remember?
We've been thinking.

He was in on it, had to be.

Well, we and the regular States Police,
we've got all the details.

Yes, but I didn't impress on you
the business with the bike.

Plain as the nose on your face
when you think about it.

- Late hunch, is that?
- You're sneering.

Don't sneer, Sergeant, please.

No, no, if you've got anything
to add to your statement.

The lad on the bike was one of them.
I know it.

Yeah, well, we know where to find you
if we get anything, all right?

You're very busy.
You're not in the office at all.

- What did you say?
- My holiday money has been snatched.

My wife's on tranquilisers. The louts that did it
are still running wild and you're fobbing me off.

Just an unlucky punter.

Goodbye, Mr Carpenter.

Couldn't help overhearing.
Boy on a motorbike?

- Deborah.
- Dad, I'm in a hurry.

What's so urgent? Not another party.
Surely it's a bit early, even for you, isn't it?

- I've just called the shop.
- Shop?

- Paul and Simone.
- Oh, them.

I was supposed to meet them for a drink.
I phoned to confirm, they're not there.

- Have a drink with me, then.
- Everyone's being very secretive.

- What do you mean, secretive?
- I think something's happened to them.

- Nothing trivial, I hope.
- I'm serious, Dad.

What on earth can possibly
have happened to them?

I don't know but it sounded
like the police might be involved.

A proper job, that's what I mean.

- Plenty of bar staff wanted. Hotels...
- A job?

We've spent 18 months trying to get one of them.
A proper one.

Seasonal work for peanuts
is what our little Louis means.

- A spot of cheap labour for the holiday season.
- That's what we came out here for.

Don't he ever stop worrying?

All the fat cats here
can afford to shed a few pounds.

Distribution of wealth, it's only Christian.

Got it all sussed right
and Louis'd have us pack it in.

We never touch a car under eight grand.

When you're cast down, brother,
through no fault of your own,

and you pass the wheels of a rich man...

Oh, get off.

(GIGGLING)

- Coke, please.
- That table, Michelle.

(COINS cLINKING)

- Thanks.
- That's all right.

- Motorbikes?
- Yeah, you know, two wheels and a lot of noise.

What sort of motorbikes?

Honda, Yamaha, Suzuki, Kawasaki.
Good old Triumph if we're lucky.

Oh, come on, George,
don't give me a hard time.

(SIGHING)

- Got a couple of hours.
- About all we have got on this one is time.

We'e gonna need all of it, I reckon.

Little Louis is fretting.

Yeah, better give them both a rest.
Him and the bike.

Be a dead giveaway by now.

Yeah, that's right, Charlie Hungerford.

Eh? On the committee.

Yes, that's right, dear.
Chairperson, actually. Thank you.

(PHONE RINGING)

- Oh, hello, is that you, Barney?
- Chief Inspector Crozier here.

I'm sorry to butt in, Barney.

Nothing official. But I was wondering if you could
shed a bit of light on this Demoins business.

- Who?
- You know, Mr and Mrs Demoins,

the fashion folk, friends of mine.
I understand they've had a spot of bother.

What spot of bother are you talking about,
Charlie? Nothing's been reported.

- What do you mean, nothing reported?
- If there had been, I couldn't tell you, could I?

- You couldn't tell me?
- You just said it wasn't official.

So I can't give information on file
to any member of the public.

I'm hardly just a member of the public.
I mean, I'm chairperson...

I can't give information to every
Tom, Dick and Harry who rings in.

I can't help you, I'm sorry.

Every Tom, Dick and Harry?

He's getting a bit above himself
is the chief inspector.

Yeah, well...

We'll just have to see what we can do about that.

(PHONE BUZZING)

- Sam Weller.
- Charlie Hungerford here.

- You know the Demoins, don't you?
- Oh, Demoins, yes, our dynamic design duo.

Yeah, well, something's happened,
and I wondered if you'd heard anything.

No. Nothing a reporter's called.
What sort of something, Charlie?

Well, I just heard the police were involved,
that's all, but now they're denying it.

Well, it's probably nothing.
Look, Sam, just forget I called, will you?

- Thanks all the same.
- Any time, Charlie.

Johnno.

I want you to go round to the Demoins place.

- Thought you weren't coming.
- She can be a pain sometimes, can Michelle.

I look after her for some people.

- You here on holiday?
- Camping. Out round the cove.

- Who's them with you?
- They're just mates.

We're working over here for a couple of months.

Oh, I love the ferries, don't you?

- Oh, you!
- Come on.

- No. Can you afford it?
- Come on.

(GIGGLING) No, wait!

- Ready?
- No, wait, my hair.

- Oh, it's all right.
- I've got no make-up on.

Neither have I.

- Ready?
- No way.

We are handling the car robberies
and that's official.

So can we have results,
not headlines, please?

That's the penalty of having a free press, innit?

- Who told them?
- Your friend, Mrs Demoins called.

Well, you've blown it for them, ruined careers.

No Paris, no international stardom,
the end of civilisation as they know it.

Still, this might help.
Money's all gone but the sketches are still there.

Hey! So the secrets
of the fashion world are safe, are they?

Yes, get it over to her as soon as possible.

Incidentally, Radio Jersey are doing a piece.
They want an interview with us.

- So?
- Your case.

- Oh, thank you very much.
- Police efficiency.

Goods recovered within 24 hours.
We can do with the PR.

LOUIS: You don't spend all you spare time
doing this, surely?

CHRISSIE: A big house it is, right by the sea,
and a tower in the garden, too.

LOUIS: Look it up in the phone book,
your aunt's name, that's gotta be favourite.

- I don't know it.
- You don't know he name?

Not after she got married.

- We've already been along here.
- No, we haven't.

- Waste of time.
- I should be getting back.

- Pushing up daisies is your Aunt Annie.
- No, she isn't.

How do you know if you ain't seen her
since you was a kid?

Look, are you packing this up or not?

- No, I'm not.
- Well, I am.

Well, go on, then.
What are you hanging round for?

Go on, back to your crummy mates.
I hate you!

Oh. I'm afraid Simone
doesn't want to see anybody.

Simone!

We used to come here for our holidays
when mum and dad were...

A real lady, my Aunt Annie.
All her jewellery...

Perfume went to your head when she kissed you.

She married someone Royal once.
A prince.

Look, you don't even know if she's still...

We'd have jugs of lemonade in the garden.

House used to creak at night
as if it was breathing.

You could hear her friends downstairs laughing.

I always tried to guess which one was the prince.
"They're all princes for half an hour," she said.

She always said that.

Did you say a house with a tower in the garden?

- Sergeant Bergerac, you'd know Mr Hungerford.
- Jim.

He'd like to join the discussion
as chairman of the Law and Order Committee.

- On behalf of the people of Jersey.
- Would you have any objection?

Well, of course he wouldn't.
I didn't realise it was gonna be you, Jim.

Yes, the briefcase and the sketches
were handed in.

I mean, we do depend a lot
on the public in these matters.

A lucky find by a man out walking his dog,
but have you caught anybody yet?

I mean, is there anybody assisting you
with your enquiries?

- No.
- Is there likely to be?

Told you. Go on, then.

Go on.

No, not now.

I haven't got time now.
Got to get back.

I'll come back tomorrow
when they've all gone to Paris.

Well, perhaps the Sergeant isn't qualified
to answer all my committee's points.

I must admit, I had expected somebody
a little more senior from the Bureau.

I do hope Mr Hungerford hasn't come here
just to play politics.

I can assure you
I haven't come here to play at anything.

I'm sure we would all
welcome constructive comments,

- genuine proposals from the committee.
- How about some genuine facts, then?

Newspaper reports over the last two weeks.
All thefts from the person inside the car.

Handbags, purses, wallets, bags,
briefcases like the Demoins...

Mr Hungerford, are you saying
the police are sitting on a crime wave?

As a matter of fact, I am.

Sergeant Bergerac, don't you think visitors
to the island should be warned?

Jim.

I want everything on these robberies fast.

It's the last time
we're gonna be made to look stupid.

I know it wasn't your fault.
You fielded well enough.

"I was expecting someone more senior
from the Bureau."

Well, he obviously was.

He's got a nerve, has Hungerford,
I'll give him that.

The fall guy made it easy for him.

- What's that supposed to mean?
- You knew his committee was on the warpath.

- You landed me straight in it, didn't you?
- Oh, nonsense.

- Look, I don't like being made a fool of.
- We've more to worry about than your pride.

Everything on the robberies.

Hey, listen, I bumped into the editor.

I'll give you one guess who tipped him off
about the Demoins business.

Now, Chrissie, you sure you can manage?
Nothing you want to ask me, hmm?

- You know where everything is? What's wrong?
- Time we weren't here, Simone.

Wish us luck. Buck up, dear.

- Simone, we must get a move on.
- Mum, Mum.

- Now, no nonsense, you.
- Can I come see the aeroplane?

- Bye.
- Can I come see the aeroplane?

- We'll bring you something back.
- Mummy.

My hat. Get my hat!

Don't go, Louis.

Aunty Annie?

- It's me.
- Yes, I can see it's you. Whoever you are.

Chrissie.

Aunty?

I've come to see you.

It's a long way just to see me.

My friend, Aunty.
He helped me find your house.

Does your dad know you're here?

No, he can't, dear, passed on.

Another one gone.

You'd better come in, then.

(WHISPERING) Chrissie!

Where's the prince, then?
Hopped it if he had any sense.

- (WHISPERING) I don't like it.
- Shh.

I loved your house.

Loved it letting in the rain.
Loved it dampen your bones.

Here it is! You lemonade jug.

I've only got tea.

I haven't got room to put them up as well.

- No, Aunty, we don't want to stay.
- I've got the number somewhere.

The people back home who took you in.
I'll tell them it's all right.

- Just for the one night.
- No, I don't want to stay.

Oh, it won't take a minute.
Now then, it's here, I know it is.

- Aunty, it's all right.
- Stubborn. Like your father.

I know.

Here we are.

- London.
- You don't need to ring them!

They're keeping me in overnight.
Just shock and bruising, I think.

Not as tough as I thought, Jim.

- You gave us a very good description of them.
- I had to. I know what you're like.

"Did you get a good look at them?
If not, why not?"

It's the first time we've ever had
anything on these jokes.

Oh, from Susan.

- Oh, Susan, thank you.
- Look, I got to rush.

- Go easy on them, all right? See you.
- Bye, Jim.

Just a minute.
Let me see if I've got this right.

The girl turned up, out of the blue,
at her great aunt's house over here.

The aunt checked back
with the girl's foster parents

who had already reported her missing to you.
Oh, I see.

So she was already
on your list of missing persons?
r

Got it. Yes.
Sorry to be so slow on the uptake.

Yes.

And the photograph is already on the wire?

Good.

No, fine, thank you very much. Goodbye.

Are they still flying?

- Are they flying yet?
- Don't be stupid.

Then are they in Paris?

- Bed, now.
- No.

Don't, then.

I'm taking you back there tomorrow,
that creepy house,

with spiders and cobwebs and dark corners.

Gonna lock you in where nobody'll find you.

I'm going now.
Will you come up and see me?

You will, won't you?

Bye.

It's never the same when you go back.
Don't you know that?

I thought you liked me.

- She's told on me, hasn't she, Aunty Annie?
- Are you in trouble?

I've had it. Stop. Stop!

We told you to give it a rest, berk.

The gear's a dead giveaway. We found you,
we weren't even looking fo you.

We're going into property, mate.

Oh, yes.

(WHISTLES) Definitely upper crust.
Excess to requirements without a doubt.

What do you mean, we'e going into property?

- We're going up in the world, Louis.
- No need to meet Joe Public at all.

Oi, what's up?
Someone's got a good look at you, haven't they?

One step ahead of the game all the time, got it?

A waste of time, this.

Like the motorbike check.
They're a bunch of yobbos.

Still, Sergeant knows best, though, eh?

Voice of experience, is that?

They are not yobbos and they're not mugs.

And they must know
that we've got a decent description of them.

- So if they're smart, they'll be off the island.
- Somehow I don't think so.

- Where's our chief inspector?
- Still with the police committee.

- Slowly turning on the spit.
- The missing girl.

This is her. Just over the wire from the Met.

Disappeared July 15th, London. Christine Barker.

Only 14. Never believe it, would you?

- Sergeant.
- Ah, Mr Carpenter.

Sergeant, Bill and myself
have been keeping our eyes open.

- Oh, yeah?
- Fort Regent. There's lad uses it most days.

A lad with a motorbike.

Mr Carpenter,
enjoy the rest of your holiday, please.

- Sergeant, I swear, both of us will swear...
- Not now, all right?

Have you any idea where she might have gone?

Gone bad again. Bad again.

What did she want?

Mrs Charleston, did she say what she wanted?

I didn't like the look of him, either.

- What, there was a man with her?
- How could she do it? How could she?

My money, look.

Gone.

- She took some money?
- It started when her mother left home.

I thought she'd grown out of it.

Have you any idea where she is?

Scooted, she did. Guilty.

Gone bad again now he father's gone.

(POP MUSIC PLAYING)

Right, you little tyke!
This is what you call a citizen's arrest!

- Get him!
- I got him! I got him!

I got him!

Just try it again.

There's a history of instability,
as you can see.

The mother packed her bags and vanished
when the girl was quite small.

There's foster parents,
truancy, theft, vandalism.

She stayed quite close to her father, though.
Used to visit him every single weekend.

Till he died last month. Then she decided
to run away and look up Aunty, right?

Great-Aunty, actually.
Last link with her father.

They're gonna love us
interrupting their Paris debut.

What the hell were they doing
employing a child in the first place?

If she feels she's in a corner,
there's no telling what she might do.

This man she's with, what's he want
with a 14-year-old? All we need is an abduction.

And why take Demoins' daughter with them?
Looks as if they have.

Jesus, we could have
a full-scale kidnapping on our hands.

Oh, I'm never gonna get through to them.
It's a madhouse over there.

Look, they've got to be told,
and we must find out what they know.

All right, get yourself over to Paris.

(AUDIENCE APPLAUDING)

- What the hell are you doing here?
- It's business, Debs.

Where can I find the Demoins?

- You're not serious?
- I didn't come here on a day trip, did I?

- Where can I find them? The backstage?
- Yes.

- Through there? Thanks.
- Yeah.

(AUDIENCE APPLAUDING)

My God, someone copied the designs?
They did copy them?

No, it's about Christine Barker.

- Chrissie, are you sure?
- Can we talk?

Please, Sergeant.
We're right in the middle of...

- She has disappeared, Mrs Demoins.
- Please, Sergeant.

She has disappeared.

- PAUL: Simone!
- Your daughter has gone as well.

- What is this...
- Hold the shoulders, sweetheart.

Hold, swing. Turn. Yes.

Mrs Demoins, you've to be out front now.

- Mrs Demoins, did you hear what I said?
- I can't, Sergeant, not now.

- Did Chrissie come into Jersey with anyone?
- Not that I know of.

- Well, did she make any friends?
- I really don't know.

What about visitors to the house?
A boyfriend, for instance.

She may have met a young man, I don't know.
She had time off.

- Look, I must get out front.
- Did you see anything?

- No.
- Were the girls going anywhere?

Visiting anyone? Listen, have you any idea at all
where they might have gone?

- Oh!
- MAN: Mrs Demoins!

I'm going!

(AUDIENCE APPLAUDING)

(AUDIENCE CHEERING)

- Mrs Demoins.
- Chrissie really is a most capable girl.

She is 14 years old
and she has run away from home.

Are you listening to what I'm telling you?

Chrissie and your daughter were seen talking
to a strange man shortly before they disappeared.

ANNOUNCER: This was the first Paris show
for Paul Demoins.

Ladies and gentlemen,
the special first debut collection

from Paul Demoins of Jersey.

Presque perdu.
We almost lost, most intriguing.

At least we salvaged something
from the headlines.

- Excuse me, Madame Demoins?
- Mmm.

French Vogue. Would you and Monsieur Demoins
be free to do a photo call tomorrow morning?

Yes, certainly, let me get to my husband.

What the hell do you have to do
to get through to her?

Well, to begin with, you choose a better time.

(SCOFFING)

Nothing at all?

She's alone.

She didn't have any friends.
She just answered their ad in the paper.

They know nothing at all about her background.
They never bothered to check her references.

- So, square one.
- Well, not quite.

- Carpenter, I gather you're acquainted with him.
- (CHUCKLING) Yeah.

Well, he's bought in a lad who he swears
was one of the gang who robbed him.

Oh, Carpenter's been dying to nail somebody.

The lad had those on him.

- You put it to him?
- Uh-uh.

He's sweating it out in the cells.

First thing tomorrow, we'll get Aunty
to take a look and then we'll see.

Well?

I told you I didn't like the look of him.

- So that's the missing man, eh?
- He was with Chrissie the day before she vanished.

- Are you gonna tackle him or shall I?
- I think we ought to let him go.

Hello.

- Remember me?
- What do you mean they know?

ROD: Where's the bike?
TRACE: What'd you mean?

- That gear, we've told you!
- Hang on, Rod. Who knows?

LOUIS: The police. They've had me in.
TRACE: You what?

- They let me go. No evidence they said.
- Louis!

Well, well. Beaten up
any defenceless women lately, eh?

Come on, hard man.

MICHELLE: Chrissie, Chrissie.

- Chrissie, Chrissie.
- Go back, Michelle.

- Chrissie.
- No, go back.

Go back.

Wallets, purses, handbags,
assorted tasty bric-a-brac.

- Talk about Aladdin's cave.
- I didn't take anything, honest.

- I knew you'd think it was me.
- It was Michelle we were concerned with, really.

I had to bring her with me.
Couldn't leave her on her own, could I?

Well, they didn't care.
She was all right with me.

- Weren't you, Michelle?
- Yes, I was.

Michelle! Is she all right? Michelle.

(SIGHING) Oh, poor love, come on.

Go on. You've got to.

I'm surprised you could tear yourself away.

You didn't understand how important Paris was.
You just didn't see it, did you?

Oh, yes, I did. Saw all of that.

Chrissie! Chrissie, come on.

(CAR HONKING)

Get on, quick!

No!

So you see how three youngsters, three bored kids
looking for kicks, can make a crime wave.

- You see how easy it is to be alarmist?
- Would you rather we were complacent?

To be alarmist,
to try to damage the reputation of the Bureau.

- Nonsense! My committee would...
- Mr Hungerford, please let him finish.

To frighten the people of the island
with stories about failure of civilised values.

That's not true.

CROZIER: It was just so much hot air,
a lesson in how to get your fingers burnt.

Now, let me tell you something, Chief Inspector.

Watchdogs are never popular with them
they're watching. They get in the way.

CROZIER: The Bureau has never objected
to the committee.

They're inconvenient, but for who, might I ask?
Not for the folk out there.

- Mr Hungerford's being offensive,
- Gentlemen, please!

CHARLIE: Chrissie Baker, a totally innocent
young girl, died as a result of all this.

Well, that's typical, isn't it?
You can't even get her name right.

- Who's being offensive now?
- Her name was Christine Barker.

Gentlemen...