Bounty Hunters (2017–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Episode #1.4 - full transcript

Talked out of avenging his brother's death Angel heads to England, but has no idea how close he comes to the woman whose blood he is looking to spill. Barnaby, Leah and Nina are taken in for questioning at just the wrong moment.

- Blood antiquities

are being looted from Syria
by jihadist militants.

- We are not hiring a bounty hunter.

- Where's Nina Morales?

- Dad's done a
runner from hospital.

- Well, I bet you're surprised
to see me up and about.

- Sit.

- For someone who said
he'd been in a coma,

Nigel had a lot of energy.

- You're a launderer.

- These men are soldiers.

They're fighting a holy war

and God help anyone who gets in their way.

- Dad!

- I shot a guy from a cartel.

You happy?

- Over the bloody moon!

Hey, hey.


- God.

- Who the hell is this Misha LaBois?

- Misha LaBois, he's an actor.

Well, he was.

He was in those superhero films

then had some kind of a breakdown,

started doing performance art.

- He's actually really misunderstood.

- Right, so, the kidnappers
want half a million pounds.

- They wanted 50,000 pounds,
you offered half a million.

- I didn't offer them anything.

- Yes, you did.
- You did!

- Right, don't do that.
- Did, did, did, did!

- Leah.
- Hey, hey, hey!

Do you know what these
jihads are gonna do to my mom

when they start hearing her

drop mazel tovs and mitzvahs.

- Mitzvahs.
- Whatever.

Can we just sell a
statue, please, already?

- What I'm trying to do.

Okay, so, we know LaBois is
willing to pay 450,000 pounds.

Add that to our 50,000 pounds

- 40.

- No, we have 50.

- No, minus my family's airfare.

- 10 grand?

My God.

Did you fly them business?

- First.

Anyway, we get this wacko to fork over 460

and we're all good.

- I can get a better deal, trust me.

I have a client, but I have to go alone.

He's a bit edgy.

- Right, is your client
Black Harry from the pub?

- Black Barry, no.

Baz is doing a cheeky two
stretch for nicking geese.

- All right, that's not happening.

- Okay, I've asked you this before.

Would you please not smoke
marijuana in my bedroom?

- Mind palace, mate.

Sherlock Holmes smoked bare herb.

- Firstly, he took cocaine.

Secondly, he's fictional.

Thirdly, we're not having this.

- All right.

All right, enough.

Sherlock, go get the statue.

Watson, wind up the clown car, let's move.

- Baal, god of thunderstorms.


Probably second century BC.

I sold this to Webb Sherman.

- Mr. Sherman gave us the provenance.

If you would talk us through it.

- Right, well, I bought
this from a gentleman

at a private auction in London

and he inherited it from his uncle

who'd bought the statue from here

a shop in Zurich which shut 30 years ago.

And he bought the statue
in Damascus in the '50s.

- London, 2017.

Zurich, 1983.

Damascus, 1956.

So, how is it that all of these documents

were written on the same typewriter?

Your typewriter?

- Detective Suleiman,

my client discharged
himself from intensive care

and you had a duty to get
him a clinical assessment.

So, did you?

Then your evidence is inadmissible

and this interview is now over.

- One last thing.

Does Webb Sherman know that
you're sleeping with his wife?

- Look at those calves.

- Could've walked right
out of a Caravaggio.

- We may have a problem.

- Careful, this
statue is very delicate.

- Guys, I know how we
can get the ransom money.

People are lining up at
Wimbledon tennis right now.

We can sell them lemonade.

- You're even dumber than you
look and you look real dumb.

- Nina, he's just trying to help.

- I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, baby, you know what?

You go sell them lemonade, all right?

Take Sofia with you.

- What did I do?

- Can I get some money to buy lemons?

- Go, please.

Do you know how to make lemonade?

- No way can he afford a lawyer like that.

- Well, it's
the old boys' network, innit?

Probably on the same Quidditch team.

- Flag him with Border Force.

If he tries to get on a plane,

I wanna put the cuffs on him myself.

- Suleiman, a word?

- Don't let Walker out of your sight.

- Complaint from Nigel Walker's brief.

- Walker, the statues, the Shermans.

Connect the dots

and you've got millionaires
funding terrorism.

- I can't protect you and the unit.

So for our sake, just drop it.

- Can't believe I used
to let Sofia watch this creep

on the Disney Channel.

- My last performance piece, "Penance".

Stood in Times Square and
invited members of the public

to kick me in the testicles.

- Crikey.

- The line went back five blocks.

- Ouch.

- I won't be able to have children.

- I'm more of a "Dogs
Playing Poker" kinda gal.

- Do you know how long
it takes for a testee

to descend from your abdomen?

- Well, we should, um--
- You're with me, buddy.

Come on!

- Do you mind me asking

what you actually plan
on doing with the statue?

- After "Penance", I was
on a shit-ton of morphine.

I had this vision.

Two babes, big fake tits.

American flag bikinis.

Hammering a Syrian statue to bits.

'Cause, like, ISIS and
America, like, the same, man.

And I might just, like, delete the footage

and be, like, "Did that even happen?"

Fake news, man!

- But, I mean, you're
smashing an ancient relic.

- You and me both, buddy.

- What?

No, it's not like that.

- Let's do this deal!

- Go get the
sledgehammer and the bikinis!

I don't think I can go through with this.

- It's art.

- Art is not anything that
happens in a big white room.

- We need to remember why we're here.

You wanna see your mother again?

- Yo, Paddington, catch!

- Show me my statue.

- Leah.

- Hey, what's wrong,?

- I packed these bags once before.

Do you remember?

You abandoned me.

- Um, I was in a coma.

- I cannot trust you, Nigel.

- Monica, I'm sticking
my neck out for you.


If I make this deal...

you and I can make a fresh start.

Just you and me?

Isn't that what you want?

Look, I'm at the hotel in an hour

so why don't I slip out
of your husband's briefs

and pop back into bed for round two?

Don't know why but that
sounded sexier in my head.

- Hello?
- Sofia, it's Foster.

Where are you?

Where's Nina?

- We're in London.

- Jesus.

Listen to me.

Angel Florez is coming to London.

- Sofia, I'm gonna call you back, okay?

All right, bye.

Um, I'm gonna tell you something

and you are not going to panic.

Just try to calm down, okay?

- Calm down!

Nina, my mother is
currently being held hostage

and now, just to crank this shit-shower up

to a torrential downpour

you tell me that you've lost
your game of hide-and-seek

with a bloody cartel!

- We'll burn those bridges
when we get to them, okay?

- I'm not even going to point out

why that is a very ominous
slip of the tongue!

- Do you think that I like running?



- I'm sorry.

That was insensitive of me.

We're in this together.

- Sorry about your car.

- It's fine.

The old G Wiz is a lot
sturdier than she looks.

- Wanker!

- Call Leah.

Tell your hoity-toity,
skinny-ass crack whore sister

that if she don't give that statue back

I'm gonna make her wish she
was the one that was kidnapped.

- I might paraphrase slightly.

- What?

What us it, What?

- That stupid girl used my Uber account.

- I'm gonna die.

In the East End.

- Have faith.

- If Nina wants to find
a needle in a haystack

she'll burn down the barn.

Oy, she was always a terror.

One time, a boy at school, Bobby
Russo, made her sister cry.

Nina held him down in a sandpit.

He swallowed a pound of sand.

They had to pump his stomach.

- Leah was always trying to drown Barnaby

when they were toddlers.

- Toddlers?

Nina was 18.

Bobby Russo was a high
school triple jumper.

- And you've got another daughter?


She was Sofia's mom.

- Is she--
- Don't schvitz over her.

She'll be out there
looking after number one.

Now, my Nina, she's loyal.

- Hello, my name's Barnaby Walker.

I'm looking for my sister, Leah Walker.

Slim, brown hair--

- Sly, feral looking.

Kinda broad you wouldn't
trust with your son.

- We have a room under Nigel Walker.

- So she's taking the statue to your dad.

- Well, at least he's decided to help.

Why didn't they tell me?

- 'Cause they're snakes, Barnaby.

Dirty scheming snakes.

No offense.

- I know it's not a hip thing to say,

but I love a bit of Manilow.

- Jesus!

- Do it!

- Do what?

- Hit him!

Jesus, Barnaby!

- Sorry.

I'm so sorry, so sorry!

- The Magpie wants to
fuck with Los Cardenas?

Big mistake, bitch.

- Who the hell is the Magpie?

- Woo!

- You did it, kid.

- We gotta get him outta here.

- The maids' trolley.

One of us could pretend
to be a member of staff.

I'll turn around if you
want to get changed.

- Because obviously it's gonna be me?

- No, it's just that you're a--

- Second class citizen?

Hey, maybe I could clean
a couple a toilets first.

You know, get into character?

Is that how you want me?

Check your goddamn privilege.

- I just meant a man in a maid's tabard

might look quite odd.

- And now you're gonna lash
out at the trans community?

You are showing your true
colors today, Barnaby.

- I just saved your life.

- Fine, whatever.

But when you have to play
up to your stereotype

we'll see how much you like it!

- Well, if I ever have to
get us out of a situation

by dressing up as a member
of the landed gentry,

I'll take it on the chin.

- Meet me at the service entrance.

You coulda totally worn this!


- I'm meeting the Shermans.

- This way, sir.

- You're late.

- One lobster, two forks.
- I'm famished.

I could murder--
- He's fine.

- You left me high and
dry with those statues.

- We were under suspicion.

- You still are, old boy.

And unfortunately, Detective Suleiman

regards me as her key witness.

- Obviously we'll continue
to pay your legal fees.

- And she'll offer me immunity.

I'd like a little house in Ibiza.

Old Town, naturally.

Little running-away fund.
Enough to keep me in Rioja.

Listen, if I talk, your whole
world comes crashing down.

No more galas.

No more weekends away
with Andrew Lloyd Webber.

And you can kiss goodbye

to those little blue ticks
on Twitter.


The only thing standing
between you and oblivion

is me.

I'll have the turbot.

- Don't worry, I'll get rid of him.

- You mean, like, drive
him to the airport?

God, you're not seriously gonna--

- I got no choice.

- No, Nina!

- Do you have any idea

what these people are gonna do to you?

- Just let me think

for a moment, please.
- They know where I am.

They know who you are.

It's kill or be killed.

- No.
- Yes, Barnaby.

- No, I.

- Barnaby.







I'm not asking you to help, kid.

This is on me.

- You can't kill him.

- Would you keep your voice down.

- Nina, this will
only make things worse.

- What would you like me to do?

Reason with him?

- I don't know, yes.

Reason with him.

- The only reason why I'm in this mess

is because I helped your Judas-ass sister.

- I know.

I know how much you did
for her, and for me.

But this week, it's like
I've lost all of my bearings.

Everything I took for granted.

My dad's a crook, I'm lying to the police.

And now you're asking me to stand by

and let you murder someone.

- Barnaby.

I'm just trying to protect my family.

- I know you are.

But if you kill him, you're
no better than he is.

We don't kill people.

We're the goodies.

- Yeah, we're the goodies.


- Where's Dad?

- Dad?

Swiveling on a dick for all I care.

Hey, what?

- We know he booked this room.

Where is he?

Leah, well?

- I used his card, numb nuts.

- Stop lying to me, Leah.

I am part of this family!
If you are helping him--

- My God, do you really
think he gives a toss about us?

- Start talking, Leah.

- It's not a big deal!



Dad asked me to work with him.


- Maybe a year ago.

Dad was buying those statues

for these creepy twins, the Shermans.

- The two douchebags from the auction.

- Yeah, and then they
dropped out of the deal

and dad went to pieces.

So, it was all on me.

I know this dealer.

- You don't know any art dealers.

- A drug dealer, Rafael Munoz.

Remember him, Nina?

You shot him in the face?

- Don't get smart with me.

- Rafael's cartel was in the shit.

So I make him a deal.

The statues are worth at
least five million dollars.

I said I'd sell them to
the cartel for two million.

- What, they're art
connoisseurs now, are they?

- Collateral, right?
- Right.

It's what dealers do

when they don't have a
lot of cash lying around.

- How do you know about all of this?

- I read it in Vice.

- The mind boggles.

- So the cartel swaps
the statues for coke,

they sell the coke for a profit,

they buy back the statues and pay you off.

- And we're home free.

- So you're the Magpie?

- Yeah.

They love all that shit
with the nicknames.

The other option was the White Swan,

but I thought it sounded
like a gastro pub.

Now I am meeting a dude from
the cartel called Eduardo.

Barnaby, why do you look like you

just followed through on a fart?

- This place is a zoo.

I don't even know what
gate I'm looking for.

I told you to put Walker on a watch list.

I did, ma'am, Border
Force took him off it.

They got the all-clear.

- From who?

- Someone from Special Crime
Command, that's all I know.

- Monica Sherman.

- Sir, Mrs. Sherman's
still not checked in.

- Okay.

- Yield, brother.

- Webb.

I want to come home.

- My lawyers will be in touch
with a reasonable offer.

Take it.

Adultery does not play well in court.

- please make your
way to gate 17 immediately.

- Could be them.

Hey, hey!

- This is the Magpie.

No, the Magpie does not
require a turndown service.

- it's a fantastic sight.

Wimbledon fans watching the
game out on Henman Hill.

Or is it Murray Mound?

I forget.