Bounty Hunters (2017–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - Episode #1.3 - full transcript
To save their kidnapped mothers Nina and Barnaby must raise a million pounds, fast. Nigel tries to distance himself from the mess he has created but is he mad enough to think the Sherman's will allow him to flee?
- Blood antiquities
are being looted from Syria
by Jihadist militants.
- We have a war crime in our kitchen.
- We are not hiring a bounty hunter.
- Where's Nina Morales?
- Barnaby?
Well, we just wait 'til he leaves,
stage the break in, take the money and go.
- It's all there.
- Where's Nina Sofia.
- How do you know my name?
- I need you to pack a bag and get out.
My.
- Someone else was in here.
Mr. Sherman, could you tell me
where you bought the statue from?
Nina!
Nina, why is there a 300 pound
Puerto Rican man in my bath?
- Pancho is takin' a bath?
That's a first.
They were passin' through town.
- They?
- Grandma, did you take my epilater?
- What is happening?
- Yo, last time I checked
I did a job for you
that I haven't been paid for yet.
- What will my mother say?
- She'll say you
struck gold with this one.
We just had a smashing
catch up over some huevos.
That's Puerto Rican for scrambled eggs.
Darling, I've got to visit your father
and Penelope still wants that table.
Fine, I'll fetch it
from the locker myself.
- No, no, no, no, I'll
make him do it, sweetie.
- She's too good for you.
Just drop that table at
the Women's Institute.
- The Women's Institute?
What is that, a titty bar?
- Titty bar?
I told you he's a human trafficker.
I seen a documentary on Fox.
Where's our passports?
Sofia, where's your passport?
- Ma, he's not a human trafficker okay.
Barnaby, this is my mother, Maria.
- Jewish?
You look Jewish.
- He definitely ain't Jewish!
- Do you think I should burn my clothes?
- Yes.
- I didn't mean these clothes.
I meant the ones that I was
wearing at the crime scene.
- Yeah, well those too.
- Dad's done a runner from hospital.
Mum's hysterical.
- Right, I'm calling the police.
- What?
That's not fair, we don't
know dad's side of things.
- Well, I'll explain.
- Barnaby, there's a corpse
drenched in your DNA.
You go to the cops,
you're suspect number one.
- B, remember what I
told you about prison.
With those blue eyes and baby soft skin
you are, to use the
technical term, bitch-nip.
- Yes, I suppose that
might be one of our pens.
- Excuse me, you think
that Jason Bourne over here
killed somebody with a pen.
- As I said, I'm not
accusing anyone of murder.
I want to know why the
victim was in this shop.
- Barnaby, you don't have to
say anything without a lawyer.
- I'm sorry, who are you?
- I'm Barnaby's g-.
- Old nanny.
My old nanny.
She's very protective.
- Nanny, sure.
He used to pee the bed, nightly.
- Ma'am, Nigel Walker's laptop.
- Sorry, I went on one chica website.
- Okay, I wanna see a warrant.
- Look, if you're hiding anything from me,
it's just gonna make things worse.
- Well, as I say, we really
are only minding the shop
whilst my dad is unwell.
- Nigel!
You look terrible.
- I've just taken out my
catheter in the lavatory
of a Burger King.
- We can hide them in the WI.
The police won't look there.
- You know, we need to
vamoose these statues.
We could sell them.
- Nina, those statues have been stolen
from some of the most
vulnerable people in the world.
- All right, all right, relax.
Don't get all high horse and shit.
- It's don't get on your high horse.
It means.
- I know what the fuck it means.
How 'bout you keep an
eye out for our tail.
- Tail?
- Yeah, go.
Go, go, go.
- Okay, yes.
- Jeez, does this thing
even have an accelerator.
- It only does 40.
- Turn.
Don't indicate, we're tryin' to lose him.
- Sorry, is it the police?
- Do you hear a freakin' siren?
Other way, other way.
Stop indicating.
- I'm sorry, it's a force of habit.
- Van, van!
- I'm gonna be sick.
- Don't you dare.
- Bugger, we're
running out of battery.
Come on.
- Sidewalk.
- What?
- Sidewalk.
- Pavement.
If you're going to give me directions,
you will have to do so
in the Queen's English.
- Shut the, move!
- Excuse me, sorry!
- Get the fuck outta the way.
- Sorry.
- Can you go faster?
- It does go any faster.
We're not gonna fit.
Trusty old Gee Whiz.
Good things come in small packages.
- Yeah, you keep telling
yourself that kid.
Who the hell was that asshole?
- We've got to find him.
What if that man was after dad?
Come on Nina, this is what you do.
- What if your father
wants to stay missing.
- Well, how would you track down a?
- Fugitive?
Skip tracing.
I would start with his parents.
- Both dead thank god.
What, they were dry!
- Okay, well, then
I would go to the spouse.
- She has no idea.
- Well then I would ask around.
See if there was any, you know?
Extra-marital.
- No, he's not that type of man.
- Are you serious, Barnaby?
- Shut up, Leah.
- Her name's Monica.
She lives in Chelsea.
- You got an address?
- Sure, I threw a brick through
her window last Halloween
and the Halloween before that.
Kind of a tradition.
- Yeah.
You're gonna sit this one out.
- I'm sorry Barnaby, I thought
you were just doing a mum.
- What's that supposed to mean?
- You know, pretending to be stupid.
- You know, my sister
ran away 15 years ago.
She left me with Sofia, just walked out.
Yeah, sure, I was messed up about it but.
It taught me, you never
really know a person.
- I'm fine.
- Good morning, Monica.
My name is Detective Hall.
- I ask my husband for a divorce.
He refuses.
Keeps me here in our townhouse like a dog.
Nigel and I, we plan to
start a new life together.
Then he disappears.
And yesterday comes
here with a crazy story.
Says he was attacked.
I say by who?
He says he can't remember.
- So you didn't buy it.
- Well, detective, for someone who said
they had been in a coma,
Nigel had a lot of energy.
- So, he comes here, you.
- Make love.
- Yes.
And he still wants to run away?
- Yes.
But I am afraid.
My husband, he is a powerful man.
- Right.
Has Nigel contacted you since?
- Yes, look.
- Did he ever
mention his family?
- He had a daughter.
- Any mention of a son?
- I don't think that's relevant.
- I think it's very relevant
if you're shagging a man
with a family.
- Could you bring us some coffee please?
It's been a very long day.
Okay, quick, you're gonna
text your dad from her phone,
pretending to be her, asking to meet.
- Why can't I just say it's me?
- If he wanted to see you, he'd see you.
- What do I put?
- Keep it sexy.
- You do it.
- I don't have my reading glasses.
- We have to talk.
- No, that's too intimidating.
Say, "I need you inside me."
- Jesus Christ.
I need to see you.
- Do you take milk?
- Yeah, sure!
Yes, if you don't mind awfully.
Darling.
- I need you too.
What do I put now.
- Say that the house is being watched,
where can we meet?
- Catfishing my own dad.
- Monica, did I say milk?
Black please, I'm cutting down on dairy.
- Meet me where our fate's aligned.
What a creep.
Remind me where that was.
- Do you have any biscuits?
I have very low blood sugar.
- "Our eyes met my Rothcoe,
our lips by Matisse,
"and in the lift up to the bar",
I'm not reading that.
He's talking about the Tate Gallery.
- There must be a lotta
room in that elevator.
- All men are
the same, sweetheart.
I bet your Nigel's
at that Women's Institute
tucking your grocery money
down some tramp's panties.
- God.
It's probably those blasted
electricity people again.
They've been chasing us for weeks.
Honestly, will it never end?
- Leave it to me, sweetie.
You gotta be a little assertive.
- We want our money.
- Goddamn it, we got no money.
We can't pay you bozo!
Deal with it!
- My brother Keegan and
I are not collectors.
We are lovers.
- Of art.
But we do not believe in art at any price.
- We were appalled to
learn that the statue
had been looted from Syria.
What were we to do?
We couldn't return it to a war zone?
Therefore.
- Every penny
from this sale will go
to charities dealing
with the European migration crisis
because this statue.
Is a refugee too.
- Smile, big smile.
- Refugees sure do love a fleece.
- I think they get given them.
- Haven't they suffered enough?
- Slippery bastards.
If we stopped the sale by
taking half a million quid away
from refugees.
- Well, seems Nigel
Walker has two email accounts.
- Why?
- Looks like he's havin' an affair.
- Good afternoon Madam, I'm
Detective Inspector Suleiman.
- More police.
- I'm sorry?
- Yes, I already speak to two detectives.
A Hall and Oates.
- This is a weird titty bar.
- I'll be there in half an hour.
- I can cope.
Just concentrate on
moving that stuff safely.
- My bad!
- Leah, what was that?
- Nothing.
- Leah, what's going on?
- Barnaby, hi, wow.
Well, I bet you're surprised
to see me up and about.
- Sit.
- Actually, can't.
I've gotta meet a client.
- I sent those texts.
- Right, okay.
- I know what's going on.
I don't approve of it but
I need to understand it.
Every single detail.
- Well, I don't know what you've heard
about Mediterranean women
but it's all fairly vanilla.
- I didn't mean her.
I meant your business.
The lock up.
- Okay, all right.
Look, a few years ago,
some very important clients
wanted to purchase a piece
with less than palatable history
so they asked me to massage
a couple of documents.
- You're a launderer.
- Yeah, I mean.
You forage the provenance
of one dodgy Monet
and the next thing you know,
you're selling a Sheik Hitler's pajamas.
- Jesus, what have you.
- It's the game.
They're not buying the piece.
They're buying the story.
- Those statues, they're
not just a story dad.
- Yes, I know, and it's thanks to me
they're not smashed to
bits by bloody terrorists.
- Well, I'll be sure to inform
the Pride of Britain Awards.
- Barnaby, it would've all been fine
but my clients got cold feet
and they left me holdin' the baby.
- Smith?
- He's my link to the guys
smuggling this stuff outta Syria.
- Well, he's dead.
- This is what they do.
I wanted out and look what happened to me.
- They tried to kill you?
- I don't know, I can only assume so.
I mean, I can't really remember very much.
- Can't you just explain to them
that none of this is your fault.
- Nah, you don't understand.
The men Smith worked for
are not business men.
They're not gangsters.
They don't want big houses or flash cars.
These men are soldiers.
You can't bargain with them.
You can't negotiate.
They're fighting a holy
war and God help anyone
who gets in their way.
- You need to go to the police.
There is a detective,
Suleiman, she'll understand.
- No, no, no, she can't
help me, no one can.
Nope, they won't rest until I'm dead.
- So you're just going to run away?
- Yeah.
- Were you going to tell mum?
- I think it's better coming from you.
- Asshole at six o'clock.
- Who's that?
- She's with me.
- Move, move!
- What?
- Sofia!
- Dad can't keep up.
- Well, he's got to.
- Barnaby.
- Go!
- Excuse me.
- Get out the way, get out.
- Excuse me.
Would you mind standing to the right?
- Move!
- Out of the way.
- Dad?
- Sorry.
- Follow me!
Barnaby!
- Where is he?
- I don't know.
- There, look.
Dad!
Dad!
- Nigel Walker?
I'm Detective Suleiman.
- Come on!
- God, what are we gonna do now?
- I don't know what you're
going to do but I am out.
- What?
- I don't want Jihads up my ass.
- They're not up your ass.
They're up my ass.
- Barnaby, I like you, but
you're not my priority.
I got a family to look after.
- Nina, I can't do this without you.
- So then go to the cops, okay?
Cooperate, your dad knew
what he was doin' all right?
He can do the time.
- Please.
- Sorry kid.
You're on your own.
- I guess you were right.
You never really know a person.
- Tati Nina, they took them.
Some men came and then took them.
- Sofia, where' ma?
Where's ma?
Answer it.
- Hello?
- We want our money.
- But I gave it to Smith.
It's them.
- 50,000
pounds or the old women die.
- Who are you callin' old
- I promise you, I don't have it.
We gave the money to Smith.
We don't have it!
- Wait.
I took the money.
- You sneaky bloody bitch.
- I'm waiting.
We want our money.
- Couldn't we just give
you the statue back?
Do you have a returns policy?
- They're not John Lewis.
- Right.
Look, they're worth a lot
more than 50,000 anyway.
One like it just sold at Sotherby's
for half a million pounds.
- So give
us half a million pounds.
- Jesus, Barnaby.
- No, that's not what I meant.
- You don't cooperate,
you call the police, the women die.
You have two days.
- Listen to me, you
camel-dick smoking whacko.
I assume you don't have
many women in your life
so do you have any idea
what menopause does to
your sense of proportion?
The shit I am going to do to you
will make Sharia law look
like spring fucking break.
You!
Hello?
They hung up.
- You took our money.
- Yes, I took your money, okay?
I had to get them outta
New York, all right?
Some people were comin' after them.
- Who?
Come on, who?
Spit it out.
- I shot a guy from a cartel.
Ya happy?
- Over the bloody moon.
The cartel, wonderful.
Anything else anyone's got to add?
Maybe someone whacked a yardie?
We could pop down to
Chinatown, firebomb a casino,
get the Triads involved as well.
The more the merrier.
- I was going to give you your money back.
- Well, now I can relax
because obviously you
are a woman of your word.
- Will you guys shut up?
Now, I'd really like to see grandma again
so how's about you stop bitchin'
and start thinkin' about
how you gonna get that money.
- There's a Chinatown here?
are being looted from Syria
by Jihadist militants.
- We have a war crime in our kitchen.
- We are not hiring a bounty hunter.
- Where's Nina Morales?
- Barnaby?
Well, we just wait 'til he leaves,
stage the break in, take the money and go.
- It's all there.
- Where's Nina Sofia.
- How do you know my name?
- I need you to pack a bag and get out.
My.
- Someone else was in here.
Mr. Sherman, could you tell me
where you bought the statue from?
Nina!
Nina, why is there a 300 pound
Puerto Rican man in my bath?
- Pancho is takin' a bath?
That's a first.
They were passin' through town.
- They?
- Grandma, did you take my epilater?
- What is happening?
- Yo, last time I checked
I did a job for you
that I haven't been paid for yet.
- What will my mother say?
- She'll say you
struck gold with this one.
We just had a smashing
catch up over some huevos.
That's Puerto Rican for scrambled eggs.
Darling, I've got to visit your father
and Penelope still wants that table.
Fine, I'll fetch it
from the locker myself.
- No, no, no, no, I'll
make him do it, sweetie.
- She's too good for you.
Just drop that table at
the Women's Institute.
- The Women's Institute?
What is that, a titty bar?
- Titty bar?
I told you he's a human trafficker.
I seen a documentary on Fox.
Where's our passports?
Sofia, where's your passport?
- Ma, he's not a human trafficker okay.
Barnaby, this is my mother, Maria.
- Jewish?
You look Jewish.
- He definitely ain't Jewish!
- Do you think I should burn my clothes?
- Yes.
- I didn't mean these clothes.
I meant the ones that I was
wearing at the crime scene.
- Yeah, well those too.
- Dad's done a runner from hospital.
Mum's hysterical.
- Right, I'm calling the police.
- What?
That's not fair, we don't
know dad's side of things.
- Well, I'll explain.
- Barnaby, there's a corpse
drenched in your DNA.
You go to the cops,
you're suspect number one.
- B, remember what I
told you about prison.
With those blue eyes and baby soft skin
you are, to use the
technical term, bitch-nip.
- Yes, I suppose that
might be one of our pens.
- Excuse me, you think
that Jason Bourne over here
killed somebody with a pen.
- As I said, I'm not
accusing anyone of murder.
I want to know why the
victim was in this shop.
- Barnaby, you don't have to
say anything without a lawyer.
- I'm sorry, who are you?
- I'm Barnaby's g-.
- Old nanny.
My old nanny.
She's very protective.
- Nanny, sure.
He used to pee the bed, nightly.
- Ma'am, Nigel Walker's laptop.
- Sorry, I went on one chica website.
- Okay, I wanna see a warrant.
- Look, if you're hiding anything from me,
it's just gonna make things worse.
- Well, as I say, we really
are only minding the shop
whilst my dad is unwell.
- Nigel!
You look terrible.
- I've just taken out my
catheter in the lavatory
of a Burger King.
- We can hide them in the WI.
The police won't look there.
- You know, we need to
vamoose these statues.
We could sell them.
- Nina, those statues have been stolen
from some of the most
vulnerable people in the world.
- All right, all right, relax.
Don't get all high horse and shit.
- It's don't get on your high horse.
It means.
- I know what the fuck it means.
How 'bout you keep an
eye out for our tail.
- Tail?
- Yeah, go.
Go, go, go.
- Okay, yes.
- Jeez, does this thing
even have an accelerator.
- It only does 40.
- Turn.
Don't indicate, we're tryin' to lose him.
- Sorry, is it the police?
- Do you hear a freakin' siren?
Other way, other way.
Stop indicating.
- I'm sorry, it's a force of habit.
- Van, van!
- I'm gonna be sick.
- Don't you dare.
- Bugger, we're
running out of battery.
Come on.
- Sidewalk.
- What?
- Sidewalk.
- Pavement.
If you're going to give me directions,
you will have to do so
in the Queen's English.
- Shut the, move!
- Excuse me, sorry!
- Get the fuck outta the way.
- Sorry.
- Can you go faster?
- It does go any faster.
We're not gonna fit.
Trusty old Gee Whiz.
Good things come in small packages.
- Yeah, you keep telling
yourself that kid.
Who the hell was that asshole?
- We've got to find him.
What if that man was after dad?
Come on Nina, this is what you do.
- What if your father
wants to stay missing.
- Well, how would you track down a?
- Fugitive?
Skip tracing.
I would start with his parents.
- Both dead thank god.
What, they were dry!
- Okay, well, then
I would go to the spouse.
- She has no idea.
- Well then I would ask around.
See if there was any, you know?
Extra-marital.
- No, he's not that type of man.
- Are you serious, Barnaby?
- Shut up, Leah.
- Her name's Monica.
She lives in Chelsea.
- You got an address?
- Sure, I threw a brick through
her window last Halloween
and the Halloween before that.
Kind of a tradition.
- Yeah.
You're gonna sit this one out.
- I'm sorry Barnaby, I thought
you were just doing a mum.
- What's that supposed to mean?
- You know, pretending to be stupid.
- You know, my sister
ran away 15 years ago.
She left me with Sofia, just walked out.
Yeah, sure, I was messed up about it but.
It taught me, you never
really know a person.
- I'm fine.
- Good morning, Monica.
My name is Detective Hall.
- I ask my husband for a divorce.
He refuses.
Keeps me here in our townhouse like a dog.
Nigel and I, we plan to
start a new life together.
Then he disappears.
And yesterday comes
here with a crazy story.
Says he was attacked.
I say by who?
He says he can't remember.
- So you didn't buy it.
- Well, detective, for someone who said
they had been in a coma,
Nigel had a lot of energy.
- So, he comes here, you.
- Make love.
- Yes.
And he still wants to run away?
- Yes.
But I am afraid.
My husband, he is a powerful man.
- Right.
Has Nigel contacted you since?
- Yes, look.
- Did he ever
mention his family?
- He had a daughter.
- Any mention of a son?
- I don't think that's relevant.
- I think it's very relevant
if you're shagging a man
with a family.
- Could you bring us some coffee please?
It's been a very long day.
Okay, quick, you're gonna
text your dad from her phone,
pretending to be her, asking to meet.
- Why can't I just say it's me?
- If he wanted to see you, he'd see you.
- What do I put?
- Keep it sexy.
- You do it.
- I don't have my reading glasses.
- We have to talk.
- No, that's too intimidating.
Say, "I need you inside me."
- Jesus Christ.
I need to see you.
- Do you take milk?
- Yeah, sure!
Yes, if you don't mind awfully.
Darling.
- I need you too.
What do I put now.
- Say that the house is being watched,
where can we meet?
- Catfishing my own dad.
- Monica, did I say milk?
Black please, I'm cutting down on dairy.
- Meet me where our fate's aligned.
What a creep.
Remind me where that was.
- Do you have any biscuits?
I have very low blood sugar.
- "Our eyes met my Rothcoe,
our lips by Matisse,
"and in the lift up to the bar",
I'm not reading that.
He's talking about the Tate Gallery.
- There must be a lotta
room in that elevator.
- All men are
the same, sweetheart.
I bet your Nigel's
at that Women's Institute
tucking your grocery money
down some tramp's panties.
- God.
It's probably those blasted
electricity people again.
They've been chasing us for weeks.
Honestly, will it never end?
- Leave it to me, sweetie.
You gotta be a little assertive.
- We want our money.
- Goddamn it, we got no money.
We can't pay you bozo!
Deal with it!
- My brother Keegan and
I are not collectors.
We are lovers.
- Of art.
But we do not believe in art at any price.
- We were appalled to
learn that the statue
had been looted from Syria.
What were we to do?
We couldn't return it to a war zone?
Therefore.
- Every penny
from this sale will go
to charities dealing
with the European migration crisis
because this statue.
Is a refugee too.
- Smile, big smile.
- Refugees sure do love a fleece.
- I think they get given them.
- Haven't they suffered enough?
- Slippery bastards.
If we stopped the sale by
taking half a million quid away
from refugees.
- Well, seems Nigel
Walker has two email accounts.
- Why?
- Looks like he's havin' an affair.
- Good afternoon Madam, I'm
Detective Inspector Suleiman.
- More police.
- I'm sorry?
- Yes, I already speak to two detectives.
A Hall and Oates.
- This is a weird titty bar.
- I'll be there in half an hour.
- I can cope.
Just concentrate on
moving that stuff safely.
- My bad!
- Leah, what was that?
- Nothing.
- Leah, what's going on?
- Barnaby, hi, wow.
Well, I bet you're surprised
to see me up and about.
- Sit.
- Actually, can't.
I've gotta meet a client.
- I sent those texts.
- Right, okay.
- I know what's going on.
I don't approve of it but
I need to understand it.
Every single detail.
- Well, I don't know what you've heard
about Mediterranean women
but it's all fairly vanilla.
- I didn't mean her.
I meant your business.
The lock up.
- Okay, all right.
Look, a few years ago,
some very important clients
wanted to purchase a piece
with less than palatable history
so they asked me to massage
a couple of documents.
- You're a launderer.
- Yeah, I mean.
You forage the provenance
of one dodgy Monet
and the next thing you know,
you're selling a Sheik Hitler's pajamas.
- Jesus, what have you.
- It's the game.
They're not buying the piece.
They're buying the story.
- Those statues, they're
not just a story dad.
- Yes, I know, and it's thanks to me
they're not smashed to
bits by bloody terrorists.
- Well, I'll be sure to inform
the Pride of Britain Awards.
- Barnaby, it would've all been fine
but my clients got cold feet
and they left me holdin' the baby.
- Smith?
- He's my link to the guys
smuggling this stuff outta Syria.
- Well, he's dead.
- This is what they do.
I wanted out and look what happened to me.
- They tried to kill you?
- I don't know, I can only assume so.
I mean, I can't really remember very much.
- Can't you just explain to them
that none of this is your fault.
- Nah, you don't understand.
The men Smith worked for
are not business men.
They're not gangsters.
They don't want big houses or flash cars.
These men are soldiers.
You can't bargain with them.
You can't negotiate.
They're fighting a holy
war and God help anyone
who gets in their way.
- You need to go to the police.
There is a detective,
Suleiman, she'll understand.
- No, no, no, she can't
help me, no one can.
Nope, they won't rest until I'm dead.
- So you're just going to run away?
- Yeah.
- Were you going to tell mum?
- I think it's better coming from you.
- Asshole at six o'clock.
- Who's that?
- She's with me.
- Move, move!
- What?
- Sofia!
- Dad can't keep up.
- Well, he's got to.
- Barnaby.
- Go!
- Excuse me.
- Get out the way, get out.
- Excuse me.
Would you mind standing to the right?
- Move!
- Out of the way.
- Dad?
- Sorry.
- Follow me!
Barnaby!
- Where is he?
- I don't know.
- There, look.
Dad!
Dad!
- Nigel Walker?
I'm Detective Suleiman.
- Come on!
- God, what are we gonna do now?
- I don't know what you're
going to do but I am out.
- What?
- I don't want Jihads up my ass.
- They're not up your ass.
They're up my ass.
- Barnaby, I like you, but
you're not my priority.
I got a family to look after.
- Nina, I can't do this without you.
- So then go to the cops, okay?
Cooperate, your dad knew
what he was doin' all right?
He can do the time.
- Please.
- Sorry kid.
You're on your own.
- I guess you were right.
You never really know a person.
- Tati Nina, they took them.
Some men came and then took them.
- Sofia, where' ma?
Where's ma?
Answer it.
- Hello?
- We want our money.
- But I gave it to Smith.
It's them.
- 50,000
pounds or the old women die.
- Who are you callin' old
- I promise you, I don't have it.
We gave the money to Smith.
We don't have it!
- Wait.
I took the money.
- You sneaky bloody bitch.
- I'm waiting.
We want our money.
- Couldn't we just give
you the statue back?
Do you have a returns policy?
- They're not John Lewis.
- Right.
Look, they're worth a lot
more than 50,000 anyway.
One like it just sold at Sotherby's
for half a million pounds.
- So give
us half a million pounds.
- Jesus, Barnaby.
- No, that's not what I meant.
- You don't cooperate,
you call the police, the women die.
You have two days.
- Listen to me, you
camel-dick smoking whacko.
I assume you don't have
many women in your life
so do you have any idea
what menopause does to
your sense of proportion?
The shit I am going to do to you
will make Sharia law look
like spring fucking break.
You!
Hello?
They hung up.
- You took our money.
- Yes, I took your money, okay?
I had to get them outta
New York, all right?
Some people were comin' after them.
- Who?
Come on, who?
Spit it out.
- I shot a guy from a cartel.
Ya happy?
- Over the bloody moon.
The cartel, wonderful.
Anything else anyone's got to add?
Maybe someone whacked a yardie?
We could pop down to
Chinatown, firebomb a casino,
get the Triads involved as well.
The more the merrier.
- I was going to give you your money back.
- Well, now I can relax
because obviously you
are a woman of your word.
- Will you guys shut up?
Now, I'd really like to see grandma again
so how's about you stop bitchin'
and start thinkin' about
how you gonna get that money.
- There's a Chinatown here?