Lovejoy (1986–1994): Season 1, Episode 5 - The Judas Pair - full transcript
A famous gunsmith made thirteen sets of flintlock dueling pistols during the Regency Period, and his last set has carried with it an unsavory reputation over the succeeding centuries. It certainly proves unlucky for its current owner, who is murdered and the set stolen. However, what the obsessive collector did not know is that the set was incomplete. Two matched screwdrivers especially made for the set are missing, and Lovejoy knows where they are. Unfortunately the murderer knows that he knows.
Who'll start me at 100?
100 for a start.
100 I'm bid. 100 I'm bid.
Who'll give me 10, who'll make it 110?
I'm looking for 110.
110? 110 I'm bid. 110?
Who'll make it 20?
Come on, gentlemen, who'll make it 20?
120 I'm bid. It's with you, madam, at 120.
Do I hear 50? 150 anywhere?
Come on, gentlemen, that's a genuine antique.
They don't come up every day. 150?
150 I'm bid.
Come on, gentlemen, I'm looking for 350.
350 anywhere?
Don't lose it, madam,
don't lose it for another 50.
350 anywhere? 350 I'm bid.
At 350. Who'll make it four?
I'm looking for four.
Any more? At 350.
Are you all done? At 350? At 350...
Lovejoy.
My shot, I believe,
Lovejoy, as I won the toss.
Do your worst, sir.
Oh, beautiful, Michael.
The French and the Spanish
made some superb examples,
but the ultimate
in exquisite, murderous precision
comes from the dear old peace-loving Brits.
Mint, cased,
flintlock duelers.
1770-something?
- Yes.
- Manton?
Yes. You know as much
about these things as I do.
No, nobody knows as much about flinters
as you do, Michael.
What's the game, Lovejoy?
Some fellow in Cambridge, he wants a pair of
flinters traced. I said I'd see him tomorrow.
Well, of course, if you turn up anything
interesting... you'll come to me first?
Oh, I see, I see.
What are you two getting up to?
Is this fair on me or your husband?
I'm making money.
An activity of which you heartily approve.
Jane's tarting up one of the cottages
for me. I want to lease it next summer.
Speaking of which, let me see if I can find
you some wellies and we'll walk over there.
- Good to see you, Lovejoy.
- Thank you, Michael.
- What are you up to?
- I'm doing some homework.
- Oh?
- Fancy a jaunt to Cambridge tomorrow?
Check out the dreaming spires.
Or is that Oxford?
Being a redbrick man, I always forget.
All right, might be fun.
I could do some buying.
Great.
OK, see you, then.
I suppose it was just chance that Jane was doing
up a cottage while I was chasing flinters.
I should have seen the trouble coming.
Who is this person you're going to see?
His name is Ronald Field.
Tinker was in a bar after an auction last week,
overheard some fellow asking about dealers,
so nipped in, plugged me.
"Best in the business,
brilliant but cheap," et cetera, et cetera.
And he wants you to trace flintlocks.
Don't know what the story is. It's all
because of something that happened.
We're not sure exactly what happened.
But we do know my brother was killed
for those pistols.
Whoever has them is the murderer.
- Was he killed by the guns?
- The forensic people assume so.
He was shot in the eye at close range.
Course, without the
guns, they can't be 100%.
What makes you so certain that the guns
were the only things the killer was after?
They were the only things missing.
Muriel, that's my sister-in-law,
took an inventory.
She's positive nothing else was stolen.
Do you know
if they were very valuable?
I imagine they were. I must admit,
I'm not terribly versed in antiques.
Except first editions.
However, the last time I spoke to James,
he was in a highly excitable state
about a pair of flintlocks he'd acquired,
said they were made by
someone called Durrs.
Durrs? That makes them valuable.
James referred to them as the Judas Pair.
Oh, Mr. Field,
the Judas Pair does not exist.
In the antique trade, they're known as
a myth, a legend. There's no such guns.
They do exist,
and my brother was killed for them.
Oh, Durrs was a genius.
He came to London in 1770-something
to make his fortune,
which he did by inventing
a very lethal air gun.
He then proceeded to lose it all by making
a flying machine called the Flying Dolphin.
Kept it in a hangar in Knightsbridge.
- And his dueling pistols?
- Well, the story is, he made only 12 pairs.
The legend is that he made a 13th pair
and something terrible happened.
- No! What?
- Nobody knows.
He supposedly made the last pair
and they were never heard of or found.
Well, any antique dealer, if you ask him
about the Judas Pair, he'd die laughing.
I thought all this was supposed to be
celebrating a commission to find them.
Well, isn't that dishonest,
if they don't exist?
No. Not that I'm against
a little dishonesty,
it's just that I told Ronald Field I'd check out all
the existing Durrs and hopefully find the killer.
Isn't that what the police
are supposed to be doing?
Janey, we're talking about antiques. It
takes someone like me to track them down.
OK, can I help on this one?
- Absolutely. In fact, you can start now.
- Great. How?
Well, Field's advance was a check.
So?
Would you pay for the punt?
We have to assume
we are looking for mint, cased Durrs,
so Tinker's getting down
most of the dealers,
and you, Eric, are gonna check
out any sales or moves in Durrs.
That's why I want you to go through
all those catalogs.
What a totally boring job.
Investigative research, young man,
is vital intelligence.
- We would be better off with a computer.
- A computer?
You're talking to somebody who comes from a
generation of multiplication and long division.
Yes, a generation that despises
decimalization and the metric system,
and desperately misses sweets in jars.
All right, all right.
I'd still prefer to be doing something
more exciting, like following people.
Could we have a little milk?
Please?
- Is this Muriel Field's house?
- It is. And who's asking?
Lovejoy. And you?
Detective Superintendent Paris.
Super. Must be serious.
- Is Mrs. Field OK?
- Yeah.
Cleaning woman found that the house
had been broken into.
There was a murder here recently. That's
why we didn't just send a wally on a moped.
- Lovejoy. Antique dealer, right?
- So?
Ah, knew the name. Pops up
on the police computer now and then.
Really?
Perhaps we'd better go inside, then, sir.
Have a nice cup of tea.
Computers.
Michelangelo's Goliath,
Napoleon's woodcuts,
Excalibur, Prince John's
necklace from the Wash,
Friar Bacon's perpetual clock.
The antique trade is full of myths. I would say
your Judas Pair are on a par with that lot.
We haven't flipped our lids, Mr. Seymour,
we just want to trace
the Durrs that do exist.
Lovejoy figured you might give us a lead
considering it was your speciality.
Thought you might know
where the 12 pairs were.
Ten.
- Excuse me?
- You only have to trace ten pairs.
I have two pairs myself.
I see.
Oh, Tinker.
If by some magical chance that 13th pair
should prove not to be a myth,
I'd want those too.
Ronald told me who you are.
- He said he trusts you.
- He trusts me?
When he offered you money to find the Judas
Pair, he said you tried to talk him out of it.
I imagine he considers
that makes you honest.
I am on your side, Mrs. Field.
My cleaner and her daughter
are going to help me clear up.
And Ronald's on his way
over from Cambridge.
- Was very much stolen?
- No.
They were a day late.
My husband's antiques, his valuable pieces,
went to the saleroom.
- I was fortunate, I suppose.
- Oh.
The things were scheduled
to be picked up today,
but as I wanted to stay
in London last night -
I had last-minute tickets
for Covent Garden -
I had them come yesterday instead.
That could mean that whoever stole the flinters
didn't get everything he wanted and came back.
Did many people know that you were putting
James's things into a saleroom?
Friends, the solicitors...
and lots of antique people who've been
calling endlessly since the funeral.
I'm sorry I had to be one of them.
So it looks like the thief was after
something specific, right?
But he was a day late
and that something went off to the sale.
- Where?
- Gimberts, Thursday.
Well, why don't we ask Charlie Gimbert
to let us scan the lot beforehand?
Could do. It'd give him a hint
of what we're after.
With his mouth,
it'll be all over town in a flash.
Then if the villain we're after doesn't
show at the sale, he might come after us.
It would force his hand.
Here, hold on, Lovejoy.
This guy's a desperate killer.
We might be in danger.
He complained his job was too boring.
Are we on the trail of flinters?
We are. Tinker got an interesting lead.
Fellow in Norfolk exchanged a revolving
percussion longarm for a flinter last month.
Sounds like a serious collector,
name of La Grange.
La Grange? What a splendid name
for a villain. Don't you think?
Ooh, definitely, got a very
suspicious ring to it, La Grange.
Oh, you must mean Dr. La Grange.
He was in quite recently,
bought a pistol flash.
Does he live near here?
Er, not anymore. He has a house, er...
Just let me fetch my invoice book.
Becky.
Morning, Doctor.
Good morning. Can I be of any help?
Sorry to intrude,
came on the off chance, really.
Really?
Yes, I'm sound in wind and limb,
so they tell me.
It's about guns.
- Can I offer you something?
- Oh, that's very kind of you.
I was in the antique shop in Blakeney.
I was enquiring after a part and the
lady told us of your interest in guns.
A part?
Yes, I'm trying to complete a set of
accessories for a pistol I have in a case,
- a pocket Adams revolver.
- Oh, percussion.
Yes, but it's almost mint. There's a
nipple replaced and a trace of repair.
- I'm afraid, er...
- Lovejoy.
Mr. Lovejoy, I'm afraid I have
no real interest in percussion.
Flinters?
As it happens, yes.
I know nothing about flinters.
I'm just after a flash.
A flash more appropriate
to percussion, surely.
Sorry, but I can be of no help to you.
Have we met before?
I've seen you somewhere.
Yes, you were just leaving Mrs. Field's
as I arrived.
James Field and I were very good friends.
I try to visit Muriel as often as possible
to lend solace.
- Yes, I was there.
- Yes, Muriel told me why you were there.
Because of your knowledge of flinters.
Ouch.
Careful.
Morning, Charlie.
- You're a bit previous, aren't you?
- First-Look Lovejoy, I'm known as.
Now, look, I did you a favor
letting you case that Field stuff,
so I don't want you rubbishing it.
Some nice pieces in there.
Nothing I was really looking for.
Had hoped there'd be some flinters.
Oh, yes, I heard that was your new interest
in life. Bit high-price for you, Lovejoy.
At this moment in time, so are ashtrays.
- How was Norfolk?
- He was a doctor, would you believe?
You got anything new?
Of the auctions we've checked,
three sets of Durrs have gone,
two pairs of holsters -
one Durrs, one Joseph of Piccadilly -
and a Durrs blunderbuss.
We're working on a couple
of private tickles.
The word's out about a bloke from Rutland.
Checked him out. Retired colonel
with an arthritic hip. Highly unlikely.
- Michael Seymour's here.
- So?
Everyone knows that James Field had
a pair of grade-A flinters,
so Seymour's hoping something else
may show up. He's a collector, right?
Only a man with the quirks of a collector
would kill for a pair of bloody guns.
Come on.
I'm gonna take photographs
of everyone there.
Well, everyone who looks a bit dodgy.
Like at a Mafia funeral.
- Like a what?
- The Feds always take secret photographs
at Mafia funerals so they know
who all the hoodlums are.
I don't think a Polaroid's
a terribly secret camera, Eric.
I think one rather needs a longer lens.
- Are these things all in the Field sale?
- Hm? What?
Yes. Nothing to get the
old pulse racing, though.
This is rather nice. What is it?
That's an apothecary's box.
Nothing very special but they're often
worth more than their price.
Family's used them as medicine chests.
- Lovejoy.
- Hello, Michael.
- Jane.
- Hello.
- How's things at the cottage?
- Oh, fine.
I'm staying there tonight.
Got some tiles being delivered first thing.
In that case, why don't you come over
for dinner? You too, Lovejoy.
OK. Then you can show us what you bought.
What, here? Oh, just browsing, old son.
Just browsing.
Lovejoy...
- do you really have much hope for this?
- It's worth a shot, Mr. Field.
We're checking out all the collectors, and you
might just see a face, or recognize some...
someone.
Now, there's Dr. La Grange,
who we know collects flinters.
- Uh-huh.
- And there's Michael Seymour, who's rich,
powerful, and has a collector's passion.
- And there's Ronald and Muriel.
- Ronald and Muriel?
Perhaps they're just
too ordinary to be true.
The people who bought things
from the Field sale seemed ordinary too.
- So was most of the stuff.
- I rather liked that apothecary box.
I thought of getting it for the cottage.
Lovejoy!
Lovejoy, this is my car!
Open up!
I've forgotten something!
Come on! Open up!
- What?
- Lovejoy!
Something was nagging me. I couldn't think
what, and then you reminded me of the box.
Bless you.
I'd like to know what I'm
taking the credit for.
You said the box was full
of auctioneer's junk.
It wasn't. The screwdriver,
it was case-hardened.
- It was what?
- It means it was old.
Nobody puts a screwdriver in a
felt-lined case for a century.
- It was the guns' turnscrew.
- Turnscrew?
The vital part that completes the set,
the piece the killer still needs.
Well, the box hadn't
been sold when we left.
I've got to know if it's still there,
and if it is, I have to have it.
- Tomorrow.
- Tomorrow they're closed, and the day after.
Now come on.
There shouldn't be any trouble, but if there is,
honk the horn and get the hell out of here.
All right, miss?
Burn rubber, sweetheart.
- You see? The peculiar effect?
- Oh.
Like the sheen of petrol on water.
That's what a metallic object acquires
if it stays in a case long enough.
That's what we call case-hardened.
That's exactly what I'm becoming,
running around with you. Case-hardened!
Oh, it's the dynamic duo.
You got any booze?
I think the last tenant
left some down here.
Where?
What's this?
- It's a priest hole!
- Hopefully with some decent plonk.
Try and find some while I freshen up.
- You're staying here tonight, aren't you?
- Might as well.
As we're having dinner at Michael's
and I've got to make such an early start.
I guess I should too. Well, I'll probably
drink too much, and I haven't got my car.
- Then we'll get you a taxi.
- That's not what I meant, Janey.
What the bloody hell is that noise?
Oh. Here you are.
Ooh, to gracious living.
Well.
Well, you look desperate.
That's because rich people like Michael
Seymour can afford very good claret.
Yeah, well, you must've sank a few
to leave the house all open.
I wasn't that legless. Was I?
Hey, somebody's been here.
Why didn't you wake me?
Lucy?
Hello. Yes, I'm sorry,
I said I'd phone you earlier.
Hang on a minute.
Hello? Is someone there?
Lovejoy, is that you?
Hello?
Lucy? Yes, OK, just let me give you the info
and you can make a start on the fabrics.
Someone's really turned the shed over.
Janey.
Bye.
- What happened?
- She'll be all right.
- What, Janey...
- She will be all right, I promise.
- What, is she hurt?
- Just...
shock and concussion.
They've taken her to hospital.
But she was lucky. The driver forgot
her signature and came back.
- Probably saved her, I would think.
- Somebody attacked her?
Mm. They didn't get him.
Well, blow me, you get about a bit.
I'd better give my super a bell.
Please come in, sit down.
I'll organize some coffee.
Oh, that would be very welcome, sir.
- And many thanks for the use of your house.
- Not at all.
It's the least one can do
under the circumstances.
And I would like to get to the hospital.
Don't get in a lather, Lovejoy.
Your friend, Lady Felsham,
was found with a sash cord around her neck.
She wouldn't still be with us if
that tile bloke hadn't shown up.
- So?
- So we're not here on a trivial matter,
are we?
I'm sorry, OK, OK, OK.
OK.
She's all right.
So this case will be better served
by you and me having a chat
rather than you waiting
down at the outpatients.
Well, whatever happened to her
is connected with James Field's death.
I figured it must be
when I saw Lovejoy's face, sir.
Go on, Lovejoy.
Well, the killer stole the flinters but
didn't realize there was a piece missing.
That's why he went back to Muriel's. He did my
place last night and came to the cottage today.
Did you have it?
Yes.
It's called a turnscrew.
Is this turnscrew all that important?
Oh, to a serious collector, yes.
It might be hard for you to understand
but he must be in a terrible state.
Imagine, he's got this amazing possession
but it's a vital component short.
Well, where is it?
- It was at the cottage.
- Is it missing?
Yes.
You don't have to see him.
I can tell him you're sleeping.
No, I'd like to.
I'm up to it, really.
You know, a person like Lovejoy
spends his entire life courting disaster
or flirting with danger.
If you insist on being his friend,
this sort of thing is bound to happen.
I'm sorry to be such a worry.
I've never pretended to understand
your friendship with Lovejoy
but I do know it's important to you both.
I'm sure he feels very badly
about what's happened.
Alexander, you're a very good man.
I'll get Mrs. Cameron to make some tea.
It was open.
- You'll stay for tea, of course.
- Oh, thank you, Alexander.
How are you?
I'm fine.
- Sweeties.
- Oh.
I'm sorry, Janey, I shouldn't have left
the turnscrew at the cottage.
Who could have known it was there?
Anybody.
Look, I made quite a fuss
when we got back to the auction rooms.
- Yes.
- Yes, well,
there were still plenty of people about,
and if anybody was keeping tabs on me,
they'd have seen me get in,
and then assume that I'd either left
the turnscrew at home or at the cottage.
How much have you told the police?
I've told them most things.
Filled them in on the background.
What do you mean, most things?
I know you, you'll make this
a personal vendetta.
This would never have happened
if you'd let me stay the night.
I wish I knew what you were up to, Lovejoy.
We're wasting valuable drinking time.
- Get in.
- Ow.
- What is this?
- A priest hole.
Killer never found it, nor did the police.
- And the turnscrew's down here?
- It is.
Now, wait a minute.
Even in my customary befuddled
state, Lovejoy,
I remember you saying that you told
the coppers that it was missing.
Yes, Tink.
And when tomorrow's papers come out,
I hope to God they mention it.
If they don't,
the killer will still know I lied.
Yes, but he'll know that he hasn't got it
and he'll know that you have.
- That means he'll be coming for you!
- Yes.
I'm sorry, Lovejoy, it's over.
I've talked it through with Muriel, and we wish
to release you from any further obligation.
- What do you mean, it's over?
- It's in police hands.
Please let them handle it.
I've involved you and caused Lady Felsham
considerable distress.
- She might have been killed.
- Which has to be answered,
- same as your brother.
- By the law, not by ourselves.
- Ronald.
- I must get back to Cambridge.
I'll send you a check for your... efforts.
Muriel, I'll come down at the weekend.
I'll see you out, Ronald.
- Is this what you want?
- You must realize how confused I am.
I feel so responsible.
I'm not giving up.
There's more to this than my fee.
I don't know if it helps...
but I know who my husband
bought the guns from in the first place.
I had to go through all James's things.
I found a receipt.
So it was La Grange sold him the flinters.
Yep.
But, look, if you're lunatic enough
to kill for a pair of flinters,
you're hardly likely to sell them
in the first place.
I reckon we can strike La Grange
from our list of suspects.
I don't know, Tink.
I don't know why Ronald Field
was so eager to get me off the case.
I mean, when he put me on this case...
Finish the thought, lad.
It's really irritating
when you get mysterious.
Well, what does he really want?
His brother's killer
or the Judas Pair for himself?
The contemplation of that question requires
another bevvy, and it's your shout, Lovejoy.
All right.
I'll tell you one thing, mon brave,
I'm beginning to believe
in the Judas Pair myself.
I just paid lip service to the idea at the
start, kept up a blissful pretence. Now...
I think they're out there.
Morning, Eric.
Ah. Morning, Lovejoy.
Has she gone, then?
- Has who gone?
- I know you had someone here last night.
And the night before.
It's your district nurse.
- Have you been sniffing the furniture restorer?
- Course not.
Then what makes you think I've been
having sex with a district nurse?
District nurses go round on bikes, and
the last few mornings I've seen one here.
Still not with you.
Look, I went to see this band in Ipswich -
Torn Limb. Ever heard of them?
Amazingly, no.
Well, they're a bit like Def Leppard
but without selling out.
Well, anyway, I'm staying at my cousin's,
and on the way back I pass this place,
and each time I've seen this bike
at the end of your lane. So, I reckon...
That I've been having passionate sex
with a district nurse.
Well, or a midwife. It was a woman's bike.
I only caught a glimpse,
but definitely no crossbar.
You mean you weren't having it away?
Are they them? Are they the Judas Pair?
They are Mortimers. I've had them for ages.
Never leave a fingerprint
on a mint flinter.
Ruins the browning and precipitates rust.
- What does it do, Eric?
- Er, ruins the rust...
- Ruins the browning and precipitates rust.
- Ruins the browning and precipitates...
- Ruins the browning and precipitates rust.
- Ruins the browning and precipitates rust.
- You got a light?
- What?
- A light.
- Er, yeah, sure. What are you gonna do?
Gonna melt some lead
and make two round bullets.
When they're cool, you're going to
polish them until they're very shiny.
Then I'm going to pop them down the
barrels, and all will be lovely.
Lovely for what?
Blowing some bastard's brains out.
Hello, Doctor. Long way from home.
I was called in to see the police again.
I gather you too have been assisting them
in their enquiries.
Duty calls.
I gather you've also been
pestering Mrs. Field.
I'd like to think I'm helping her.
What Muriel needs is a chance to forget
this whole ghastly business.
As an old family friend,
I have her interests very much at heart.
And they won't be served
by you making a nuisance of yourself.
I phoned your house, Mrs. Cameron said
you were here. I couldn't believe it.
Why? I still have a commission to finish.
You were almost killed.
Aren't you frightened?
Well, I wouldn't have stayed after dark.
Now you're here...
Now I'm here what?
- We might as well tile the bathroom. Come on.
- Ohhh...
Janey, let's go.
I'm taking the last of the wine.
We've earned it.
- Are we ready, then?
- Shh.
What is it?
Keep away from the windows.
How can you be so certain
someone's out there?
He knows I've got the turnscrew
and he was bound to show his hand.
- What?
- Sorry.
- Never told you I still had the turnscrew.
- Oh, Lovejoy...
I swear Alexander will never let me
see you again.
Oh, this is madness.
Keep down, Janey.
It's dead.
What is it?
Final demand, turnscrew or else.
Or else what?
It didn't say.
- Are you all right?
- Yeah, I'm fine, I'm OK. You?
He's got a crossbow.
The bastard's got a crossbow.
No noise, so no one will hear.
He'll hear me.
Come on.
Oh!
Reload. Go on.
Get down!
Oh!
It's all right, it's OK.
- Shh. What's that noise?
- What?
Shh! Shh! Listen.
It's the thatch.
He's set fire to the thatch.
- We have to get out.
- We're dead as soon as we step outside.
We're dead in here!
The priest hole.
Take these. I'll get some water.
Don't worry, someone will see the fire.
Oh, it's getting hotter.
Stay still.
And breathe slowly.
Oh, God.
Janey...
hold this.
There.
I don't at all object to my wife's
friendship with you, Lovejoy,
it's just that I'm always afraid that she'll end
up dead, imprisoned, or sold to white slavers.
Oh, Alexander, I swear, there's no one
in the world I'd want to harm less.
Careful, darling.
Perhaps. But every time she involves
herself with one of your little escapades,
she imperils her life or her reputation,
so no more adventures for a while,
all right, Lovejoy?
Cross my heart, no more heroics.
Good.
No, it's the, er...
quiet life for me from now on.
Bullshit.
- You all right?
- Mm.
- Is Jane all right?
- Yeah.
I do seem to have brought you
the most appalling bad luck
ever since the day you came
to talk to me about flinters.
You never told me it was
such a dangerous pastime.
Well, it used not to be.
But of course that was before
all this nonsense about the Judas Pair.
There's a killer who
doesn't think it's nonsense.
I thought it was you, Michael.
Well, I was convinced it was you.
What made you change your mind?
Oh, the fire burning down the cottage.
Because it's my property?
I have it handsomely insured.
No, no, because you knew there was a priest
hole, there was a chance of me surviving,
because it was you who phoned the fire
brigade instead of waiting till dawn
and raking through the
ashes for the turnscrew.
- Do you know who did it?
- Mmm.
Are you gonna tell me?
Lovejoy.
I read in the evening paper you've been
involved in a frightful accident, a fire.
It wasn't an accident. That's why I'm here.
Philip should be back shortly.
Dr. La Grange, he's been staying here.
I know. Philip La Grange is a murderer.
He killed your husband and almost killed
Lady Felsham and myself.
He killed your husband for the Judas Pair.
But...
- Philip sold them to my husband.
- He was broke.
Your husband didn't tell you because of Philip's
pride and because you were all friends.
La Grange stole them back but he didn't realize
that the turnscrew was not in the case.
Oh, it can't be true.
Please, it can't be true.
Sorry.
It must have broken his
heart to part with them.
You've no idea how
obsessive collectors can be.
He had to get them back.
You can understand that, Lovejoy.
Just as you can understand
how I had to have the complete case.
- No.
- It's true. Everything he says is true.
Would you like to see them?
He did kill James, he's just admitted it.
Admitted what?
A man forces himself into the house
carrying a loaded gun
and accuses me of murders, burnings,
robberies I've never heard of...
surely anyone would try to humor him
into reasonable behavior.
What did you bring?
Mortimer.
Hmm.
Thank you.
I don't think we shall put too many finger
marks on such lovely surfaces. Do you?
We?
I'm sure you wouldn't
kill me in cold blood, Lovejoy,
and a duel will provide superb irony
and the perfect resolution.
I offer you the privilege
of the Judas Pair.
Philip, you're mad.
Muriel, consider the benefits.
Should things go right for Lovejoy,
he'll have the satisfaction of knowing
that justice was done.
And whoever wins,
no one can be blamed afterwards.
I'll tell the police that I was made
to fight a duel by this maniac here.
But alternatively, Lovejoy will
have the proof that I killed James.
Call the police, Muriel.
I'm disappointed.
Don't be.
They are beautiful.
Identical twins.
I'm afraid the room's not quite 60 feet.
Where would you like to choose your ground?
I would like us both to sit at the table.
- Isn't that a trifle unusual?
- Oh, there are precedents.
Please, answer. Please.
Thank you.
Lovejoy?
Lovejoy?
It's all right, Muriel.
Just wait for the police.
- Does that chime?
- Yes.
At the chime, then.
I'm dead the minute I pull the trigger.
You don't even have to fire at all.
I... don't know what you're talking about.
I know how James Field died.
It's all right, it's all
right, he's only fainted.
The firing mechanism
looks perfectly normal,
except that when you pull the trigger,
the bullet comes out backwards
along a concealed barrel.
In other words,
you line it up against your eye,
you take aim...
and you blow your own bloody brains out.
I always thought dueling
was an affair of honor.
Somebody had those
flinters made deliberately?
Some Regency buck was dashing around
bold as brass
- knowing he couldn't bloody lose.
- Yes.
And that someone forced the world's greatest
gunsmith to make a pair of guns that way.
Oh.
What is it?
Either of you speak Latin?
Rex me fecit.
- The king made me?
- Could have been George III.
He was mad as a hatter. Or the Prince
Regent - he was a wencher, a gambler.
So there was a Judas Pair,
and the king made them.
No, no, no, no, no, not the king himself.
No, one of them, George III or the Prince
Regent, forced old Durrs to make them.
- Oh.
- But he had to explain it.
That's why he made the inscription, hoping
that someone someday would know what he meant.
And that someone was you.
King made me.
You know, if I didn't know you
better, Lovejoy,
I'd say that's brought tears to your eyes.
100 for a start.
100 I'm bid. 100 I'm bid.
Who'll give me 10, who'll make it 110?
I'm looking for 110.
110? 110 I'm bid. 110?
Who'll make it 20?
Come on, gentlemen, who'll make it 20?
120 I'm bid. It's with you, madam, at 120.
Do I hear 50? 150 anywhere?
Come on, gentlemen, that's a genuine antique.
They don't come up every day. 150?
150 I'm bid.
Come on, gentlemen, I'm looking for 350.
350 anywhere?
Don't lose it, madam,
don't lose it for another 50.
350 anywhere? 350 I'm bid.
At 350. Who'll make it four?
I'm looking for four.
Any more? At 350.
Are you all done? At 350? At 350...
Lovejoy.
My shot, I believe,
Lovejoy, as I won the toss.
Do your worst, sir.
Oh, beautiful, Michael.
The French and the Spanish
made some superb examples,
but the ultimate
in exquisite, murderous precision
comes from the dear old peace-loving Brits.
Mint, cased,
flintlock duelers.
1770-something?
- Yes.
- Manton?
Yes. You know as much
about these things as I do.
No, nobody knows as much about flinters
as you do, Michael.
What's the game, Lovejoy?
Some fellow in Cambridge, he wants a pair of
flinters traced. I said I'd see him tomorrow.
Well, of course, if you turn up anything
interesting... you'll come to me first?
Oh, I see, I see.
What are you two getting up to?
Is this fair on me or your husband?
I'm making money.
An activity of which you heartily approve.
Jane's tarting up one of the cottages
for me. I want to lease it next summer.
Speaking of which, let me see if I can find
you some wellies and we'll walk over there.
- Good to see you, Lovejoy.
- Thank you, Michael.
- What are you up to?
- I'm doing some homework.
- Oh?
- Fancy a jaunt to Cambridge tomorrow?
Check out the dreaming spires.
Or is that Oxford?
Being a redbrick man, I always forget.
All right, might be fun.
I could do some buying.
Great.
OK, see you, then.
I suppose it was just chance that Jane was doing
up a cottage while I was chasing flinters.
I should have seen the trouble coming.
Who is this person you're going to see?
His name is Ronald Field.
Tinker was in a bar after an auction last week,
overheard some fellow asking about dealers,
so nipped in, plugged me.
"Best in the business,
brilliant but cheap," et cetera, et cetera.
And he wants you to trace flintlocks.
Don't know what the story is. It's all
because of something that happened.
We're not sure exactly what happened.
But we do know my brother was killed
for those pistols.
Whoever has them is the murderer.
- Was he killed by the guns?
- The forensic people assume so.
He was shot in the eye at close range.
Course, without the
guns, they can't be 100%.
What makes you so certain that the guns
were the only things the killer was after?
They were the only things missing.
Muriel, that's my sister-in-law,
took an inventory.
She's positive nothing else was stolen.
Do you know
if they were very valuable?
I imagine they were. I must admit,
I'm not terribly versed in antiques.
Except first editions.
However, the last time I spoke to James,
he was in a highly excitable state
about a pair of flintlocks he'd acquired,
said they were made by
someone called Durrs.
Durrs? That makes them valuable.
James referred to them as the Judas Pair.
Oh, Mr. Field,
the Judas Pair does not exist.
In the antique trade, they're known as
a myth, a legend. There's no such guns.
They do exist,
and my brother was killed for them.
Oh, Durrs was a genius.
He came to London in 1770-something
to make his fortune,
which he did by inventing
a very lethal air gun.
He then proceeded to lose it all by making
a flying machine called the Flying Dolphin.
Kept it in a hangar in Knightsbridge.
- And his dueling pistols?
- Well, the story is, he made only 12 pairs.
The legend is that he made a 13th pair
and something terrible happened.
- No! What?
- Nobody knows.
He supposedly made the last pair
and they were never heard of or found.
Well, any antique dealer, if you ask him
about the Judas Pair, he'd die laughing.
I thought all this was supposed to be
celebrating a commission to find them.
Well, isn't that dishonest,
if they don't exist?
No. Not that I'm against
a little dishonesty,
it's just that I told Ronald Field I'd check out all
the existing Durrs and hopefully find the killer.
Isn't that what the police
are supposed to be doing?
Janey, we're talking about antiques. It
takes someone like me to track them down.
OK, can I help on this one?
- Absolutely. In fact, you can start now.
- Great. How?
Well, Field's advance was a check.
So?
Would you pay for the punt?
We have to assume
we are looking for mint, cased Durrs,
so Tinker's getting down
most of the dealers,
and you, Eric, are gonna check
out any sales or moves in Durrs.
That's why I want you to go through
all those catalogs.
What a totally boring job.
Investigative research, young man,
is vital intelligence.
- We would be better off with a computer.
- A computer?
You're talking to somebody who comes from a
generation of multiplication and long division.
Yes, a generation that despises
decimalization and the metric system,
and desperately misses sweets in jars.
All right, all right.
I'd still prefer to be doing something
more exciting, like following people.
Could we have a little milk?
Please?
- Is this Muriel Field's house?
- It is. And who's asking?
Lovejoy. And you?
Detective Superintendent Paris.
Super. Must be serious.
- Is Mrs. Field OK?
- Yeah.
Cleaning woman found that the house
had been broken into.
There was a murder here recently. That's
why we didn't just send a wally on a moped.
- Lovejoy. Antique dealer, right?
- So?
Ah, knew the name. Pops up
on the police computer now and then.
Really?
Perhaps we'd better go inside, then, sir.
Have a nice cup of tea.
Computers.
Michelangelo's Goliath,
Napoleon's woodcuts,
Excalibur, Prince John's
necklace from the Wash,
Friar Bacon's perpetual clock.
The antique trade is full of myths. I would say
your Judas Pair are on a par with that lot.
We haven't flipped our lids, Mr. Seymour,
we just want to trace
the Durrs that do exist.
Lovejoy figured you might give us a lead
considering it was your speciality.
Thought you might know
where the 12 pairs were.
Ten.
- Excuse me?
- You only have to trace ten pairs.
I have two pairs myself.
I see.
Oh, Tinker.
If by some magical chance that 13th pair
should prove not to be a myth,
I'd want those too.
Ronald told me who you are.
- He said he trusts you.
- He trusts me?
When he offered you money to find the Judas
Pair, he said you tried to talk him out of it.
I imagine he considers
that makes you honest.
I am on your side, Mrs. Field.
My cleaner and her daughter
are going to help me clear up.
And Ronald's on his way
over from Cambridge.
- Was very much stolen?
- No.
They were a day late.
My husband's antiques, his valuable pieces,
went to the saleroom.
- I was fortunate, I suppose.
- Oh.
The things were scheduled
to be picked up today,
but as I wanted to stay
in London last night -
I had last-minute tickets
for Covent Garden -
I had them come yesterday instead.
That could mean that whoever stole the flinters
didn't get everything he wanted and came back.
Did many people know that you were putting
James's things into a saleroom?
Friends, the solicitors...
and lots of antique people who've been
calling endlessly since the funeral.
I'm sorry I had to be one of them.
So it looks like the thief was after
something specific, right?
But he was a day late
and that something went off to the sale.
- Where?
- Gimberts, Thursday.
Well, why don't we ask Charlie Gimbert
to let us scan the lot beforehand?
Could do. It'd give him a hint
of what we're after.
With his mouth,
it'll be all over town in a flash.
Then if the villain we're after doesn't
show at the sale, he might come after us.
It would force his hand.
Here, hold on, Lovejoy.
This guy's a desperate killer.
We might be in danger.
He complained his job was too boring.
Are we on the trail of flinters?
We are. Tinker got an interesting lead.
Fellow in Norfolk exchanged a revolving
percussion longarm for a flinter last month.
Sounds like a serious collector,
name of La Grange.
La Grange? What a splendid name
for a villain. Don't you think?
Ooh, definitely, got a very
suspicious ring to it, La Grange.
Oh, you must mean Dr. La Grange.
He was in quite recently,
bought a pistol flash.
Does he live near here?
Er, not anymore. He has a house, er...
Just let me fetch my invoice book.
Becky.
Morning, Doctor.
Good morning. Can I be of any help?
Sorry to intrude,
came on the off chance, really.
Really?
Yes, I'm sound in wind and limb,
so they tell me.
It's about guns.
- Can I offer you something?
- Oh, that's very kind of you.
I was in the antique shop in Blakeney.
I was enquiring after a part and the
lady told us of your interest in guns.
A part?
Yes, I'm trying to complete a set of
accessories for a pistol I have in a case,
- a pocket Adams revolver.
- Oh, percussion.
Yes, but it's almost mint. There's a
nipple replaced and a trace of repair.
- I'm afraid, er...
- Lovejoy.
Mr. Lovejoy, I'm afraid I have
no real interest in percussion.
Flinters?
As it happens, yes.
I know nothing about flinters.
I'm just after a flash.
A flash more appropriate
to percussion, surely.
Sorry, but I can be of no help to you.
Have we met before?
I've seen you somewhere.
Yes, you were just leaving Mrs. Field's
as I arrived.
James Field and I were very good friends.
I try to visit Muriel as often as possible
to lend solace.
- Yes, I was there.
- Yes, Muriel told me why you were there.
Because of your knowledge of flinters.
Ouch.
Careful.
Morning, Charlie.
- You're a bit previous, aren't you?
- First-Look Lovejoy, I'm known as.
Now, look, I did you a favor
letting you case that Field stuff,
so I don't want you rubbishing it.
Some nice pieces in there.
Nothing I was really looking for.
Had hoped there'd be some flinters.
Oh, yes, I heard that was your new interest
in life. Bit high-price for you, Lovejoy.
At this moment in time, so are ashtrays.
- How was Norfolk?
- He was a doctor, would you believe?
You got anything new?
Of the auctions we've checked,
three sets of Durrs have gone,
two pairs of holsters -
one Durrs, one Joseph of Piccadilly -
and a Durrs blunderbuss.
We're working on a couple
of private tickles.
The word's out about a bloke from Rutland.
Checked him out. Retired colonel
with an arthritic hip. Highly unlikely.
- Michael Seymour's here.
- So?
Everyone knows that James Field had
a pair of grade-A flinters,
so Seymour's hoping something else
may show up. He's a collector, right?
Only a man with the quirks of a collector
would kill for a pair of bloody guns.
Come on.
I'm gonna take photographs
of everyone there.
Well, everyone who looks a bit dodgy.
Like at a Mafia funeral.
- Like a what?
- The Feds always take secret photographs
at Mafia funerals so they know
who all the hoodlums are.
I don't think a Polaroid's
a terribly secret camera, Eric.
I think one rather needs a longer lens.
- Are these things all in the Field sale?
- Hm? What?
Yes. Nothing to get the
old pulse racing, though.
This is rather nice. What is it?
That's an apothecary's box.
Nothing very special but they're often
worth more than their price.
Family's used them as medicine chests.
- Lovejoy.
- Hello, Michael.
- Jane.
- Hello.
- How's things at the cottage?
- Oh, fine.
I'm staying there tonight.
Got some tiles being delivered first thing.
In that case, why don't you come over
for dinner? You too, Lovejoy.
OK. Then you can show us what you bought.
What, here? Oh, just browsing, old son.
Just browsing.
Lovejoy...
- do you really have much hope for this?
- It's worth a shot, Mr. Field.
We're checking out all the collectors, and you
might just see a face, or recognize some...
someone.
Now, there's Dr. La Grange,
who we know collects flinters.
- Uh-huh.
- And there's Michael Seymour, who's rich,
powerful, and has a collector's passion.
- And there's Ronald and Muriel.
- Ronald and Muriel?
Perhaps they're just
too ordinary to be true.
The people who bought things
from the Field sale seemed ordinary too.
- So was most of the stuff.
- I rather liked that apothecary box.
I thought of getting it for the cottage.
Lovejoy!
Lovejoy, this is my car!
Open up!
I've forgotten something!
Come on! Open up!
- What?
- Lovejoy!
Something was nagging me. I couldn't think
what, and then you reminded me of the box.
Bless you.
I'd like to know what I'm
taking the credit for.
You said the box was full
of auctioneer's junk.
It wasn't. The screwdriver,
it was case-hardened.
- It was what?
- It means it was old.
Nobody puts a screwdriver in a
felt-lined case for a century.
- It was the guns' turnscrew.
- Turnscrew?
The vital part that completes the set,
the piece the killer still needs.
Well, the box hadn't
been sold when we left.
I've got to know if it's still there,
and if it is, I have to have it.
- Tomorrow.
- Tomorrow they're closed, and the day after.
Now come on.
There shouldn't be any trouble, but if there is,
honk the horn and get the hell out of here.
All right, miss?
Burn rubber, sweetheart.
- You see? The peculiar effect?
- Oh.
Like the sheen of petrol on water.
That's what a metallic object acquires
if it stays in a case long enough.
That's what we call case-hardened.
That's exactly what I'm becoming,
running around with you. Case-hardened!
Oh, it's the dynamic duo.
You got any booze?
I think the last tenant
left some down here.
Where?
What's this?
- It's a priest hole!
- Hopefully with some decent plonk.
Try and find some while I freshen up.
- You're staying here tonight, aren't you?
- Might as well.
As we're having dinner at Michael's
and I've got to make such an early start.
I guess I should too. Well, I'll probably
drink too much, and I haven't got my car.
- Then we'll get you a taxi.
- That's not what I meant, Janey.
What the bloody hell is that noise?
Oh. Here you are.
Ooh, to gracious living.
Well.
Well, you look desperate.
That's because rich people like Michael
Seymour can afford very good claret.
Yeah, well, you must've sank a few
to leave the house all open.
I wasn't that legless. Was I?
Hey, somebody's been here.
Why didn't you wake me?
Lucy?
Hello. Yes, I'm sorry,
I said I'd phone you earlier.
Hang on a minute.
Hello? Is someone there?
Lovejoy, is that you?
Hello?
Lucy? Yes, OK, just let me give you the info
and you can make a start on the fabrics.
Someone's really turned the shed over.
Janey.
Bye.
- What happened?
- She'll be all right.
- What, Janey...
- She will be all right, I promise.
- What, is she hurt?
- Just...
shock and concussion.
They've taken her to hospital.
But she was lucky. The driver forgot
her signature and came back.
- Probably saved her, I would think.
- Somebody attacked her?
Mm. They didn't get him.
Well, blow me, you get about a bit.
I'd better give my super a bell.
Please come in, sit down.
I'll organize some coffee.
Oh, that would be very welcome, sir.
- And many thanks for the use of your house.
- Not at all.
It's the least one can do
under the circumstances.
And I would like to get to the hospital.
Don't get in a lather, Lovejoy.
Your friend, Lady Felsham,
was found with a sash cord around her neck.
She wouldn't still be with us if
that tile bloke hadn't shown up.
- So?
- So we're not here on a trivial matter,
are we?
I'm sorry, OK, OK, OK.
OK.
She's all right.
So this case will be better served
by you and me having a chat
rather than you waiting
down at the outpatients.
Well, whatever happened to her
is connected with James Field's death.
I figured it must be
when I saw Lovejoy's face, sir.
Go on, Lovejoy.
Well, the killer stole the flinters but
didn't realize there was a piece missing.
That's why he went back to Muriel's. He did my
place last night and came to the cottage today.
Did you have it?
Yes.
It's called a turnscrew.
Is this turnscrew all that important?
Oh, to a serious collector, yes.
It might be hard for you to understand
but he must be in a terrible state.
Imagine, he's got this amazing possession
but it's a vital component short.
Well, where is it?
- It was at the cottage.
- Is it missing?
Yes.
You don't have to see him.
I can tell him you're sleeping.
No, I'd like to.
I'm up to it, really.
You know, a person like Lovejoy
spends his entire life courting disaster
or flirting with danger.
If you insist on being his friend,
this sort of thing is bound to happen.
I'm sorry to be such a worry.
I've never pretended to understand
your friendship with Lovejoy
but I do know it's important to you both.
I'm sure he feels very badly
about what's happened.
Alexander, you're a very good man.
I'll get Mrs. Cameron to make some tea.
It was open.
- You'll stay for tea, of course.
- Oh, thank you, Alexander.
How are you?
I'm fine.
- Sweeties.
- Oh.
I'm sorry, Janey, I shouldn't have left
the turnscrew at the cottage.
Who could have known it was there?
Anybody.
Look, I made quite a fuss
when we got back to the auction rooms.
- Yes.
- Yes, well,
there were still plenty of people about,
and if anybody was keeping tabs on me,
they'd have seen me get in,
and then assume that I'd either left
the turnscrew at home or at the cottage.
How much have you told the police?
I've told them most things.
Filled them in on the background.
What do you mean, most things?
I know you, you'll make this
a personal vendetta.
This would never have happened
if you'd let me stay the night.
I wish I knew what you were up to, Lovejoy.
We're wasting valuable drinking time.
- Get in.
- Ow.
- What is this?
- A priest hole.
Killer never found it, nor did the police.
- And the turnscrew's down here?
- It is.
Now, wait a minute.
Even in my customary befuddled
state, Lovejoy,
I remember you saying that you told
the coppers that it was missing.
Yes, Tink.
And when tomorrow's papers come out,
I hope to God they mention it.
If they don't,
the killer will still know I lied.
Yes, but he'll know that he hasn't got it
and he'll know that you have.
- That means he'll be coming for you!
- Yes.
I'm sorry, Lovejoy, it's over.
I've talked it through with Muriel, and we wish
to release you from any further obligation.
- What do you mean, it's over?
- It's in police hands.
Please let them handle it.
I've involved you and caused Lady Felsham
considerable distress.
- She might have been killed.
- Which has to be answered,
- same as your brother.
- By the law, not by ourselves.
- Ronald.
- I must get back to Cambridge.
I'll send you a check for your... efforts.
Muriel, I'll come down at the weekend.
I'll see you out, Ronald.
- Is this what you want?
- You must realize how confused I am.
I feel so responsible.
I'm not giving up.
There's more to this than my fee.
I don't know if it helps...
but I know who my husband
bought the guns from in the first place.
I had to go through all James's things.
I found a receipt.
So it was La Grange sold him the flinters.
Yep.
But, look, if you're lunatic enough
to kill for a pair of flinters,
you're hardly likely to sell them
in the first place.
I reckon we can strike La Grange
from our list of suspects.
I don't know, Tink.
I don't know why Ronald Field
was so eager to get me off the case.
I mean, when he put me on this case...
Finish the thought, lad.
It's really irritating
when you get mysterious.
Well, what does he really want?
His brother's killer
or the Judas Pair for himself?
The contemplation of that question requires
another bevvy, and it's your shout, Lovejoy.
All right.
I'll tell you one thing, mon brave,
I'm beginning to believe
in the Judas Pair myself.
I just paid lip service to the idea at the
start, kept up a blissful pretence. Now...
I think they're out there.
Morning, Eric.
Ah. Morning, Lovejoy.
Has she gone, then?
- Has who gone?
- I know you had someone here last night.
And the night before.
It's your district nurse.
- Have you been sniffing the furniture restorer?
- Course not.
Then what makes you think I've been
having sex with a district nurse?
District nurses go round on bikes, and
the last few mornings I've seen one here.
Still not with you.
Look, I went to see this band in Ipswich -
Torn Limb. Ever heard of them?
Amazingly, no.
Well, they're a bit like Def Leppard
but without selling out.
Well, anyway, I'm staying at my cousin's,
and on the way back I pass this place,
and each time I've seen this bike
at the end of your lane. So, I reckon...
That I've been having passionate sex
with a district nurse.
Well, or a midwife. It was a woman's bike.
I only caught a glimpse,
but definitely no crossbar.
You mean you weren't having it away?
Are they them? Are they the Judas Pair?
They are Mortimers. I've had them for ages.
Never leave a fingerprint
on a mint flinter.
Ruins the browning and precipitates rust.
- What does it do, Eric?
- Er, ruins the rust...
- Ruins the browning and precipitates rust.
- Ruins the browning and precipitates...
- Ruins the browning and precipitates rust.
- Ruins the browning and precipitates rust.
- You got a light?
- What?
- A light.
- Er, yeah, sure. What are you gonna do?
Gonna melt some lead
and make two round bullets.
When they're cool, you're going to
polish them until they're very shiny.
Then I'm going to pop them down the
barrels, and all will be lovely.
Lovely for what?
Blowing some bastard's brains out.
Hello, Doctor. Long way from home.
I was called in to see the police again.
I gather you too have been assisting them
in their enquiries.
Duty calls.
I gather you've also been
pestering Mrs. Field.
I'd like to think I'm helping her.
What Muriel needs is a chance to forget
this whole ghastly business.
As an old family friend,
I have her interests very much at heart.
And they won't be served
by you making a nuisance of yourself.
I phoned your house, Mrs. Cameron said
you were here. I couldn't believe it.
Why? I still have a commission to finish.
You were almost killed.
Aren't you frightened?
Well, I wouldn't have stayed after dark.
Now you're here...
Now I'm here what?
- We might as well tile the bathroom. Come on.
- Ohhh...
Janey, let's go.
I'm taking the last of the wine.
We've earned it.
- Are we ready, then?
- Shh.
What is it?
Keep away from the windows.
How can you be so certain
someone's out there?
He knows I've got the turnscrew
and he was bound to show his hand.
- What?
- Sorry.
- Never told you I still had the turnscrew.
- Oh, Lovejoy...
I swear Alexander will never let me
see you again.
Oh, this is madness.
Keep down, Janey.
It's dead.
What is it?
Final demand, turnscrew or else.
Or else what?
It didn't say.
- Are you all right?
- Yeah, I'm fine, I'm OK. You?
He's got a crossbow.
The bastard's got a crossbow.
No noise, so no one will hear.
He'll hear me.
Come on.
Oh!
Reload. Go on.
Get down!
Oh!
It's all right, it's OK.
- Shh. What's that noise?
- What?
Shh! Shh! Listen.
It's the thatch.
He's set fire to the thatch.
- We have to get out.
- We're dead as soon as we step outside.
We're dead in here!
The priest hole.
Take these. I'll get some water.
Don't worry, someone will see the fire.
Oh, it's getting hotter.
Stay still.
And breathe slowly.
Oh, God.
Janey...
hold this.
There.
I don't at all object to my wife's
friendship with you, Lovejoy,
it's just that I'm always afraid that she'll end
up dead, imprisoned, or sold to white slavers.
Oh, Alexander, I swear, there's no one
in the world I'd want to harm less.
Careful, darling.
Perhaps. But every time she involves
herself with one of your little escapades,
she imperils her life or her reputation,
so no more adventures for a while,
all right, Lovejoy?
Cross my heart, no more heroics.
Good.
No, it's the, er...
quiet life for me from now on.
Bullshit.
- You all right?
- Mm.
- Is Jane all right?
- Yeah.
I do seem to have brought you
the most appalling bad luck
ever since the day you came
to talk to me about flinters.
You never told me it was
such a dangerous pastime.
Well, it used not to be.
But of course that was before
all this nonsense about the Judas Pair.
There's a killer who
doesn't think it's nonsense.
I thought it was you, Michael.
Well, I was convinced it was you.
What made you change your mind?
Oh, the fire burning down the cottage.
Because it's my property?
I have it handsomely insured.
No, no, because you knew there was a priest
hole, there was a chance of me surviving,
because it was you who phoned the fire
brigade instead of waiting till dawn
and raking through the
ashes for the turnscrew.
- Do you know who did it?
- Mmm.
Are you gonna tell me?
Lovejoy.
I read in the evening paper you've been
involved in a frightful accident, a fire.
It wasn't an accident. That's why I'm here.
Philip should be back shortly.
Dr. La Grange, he's been staying here.
I know. Philip La Grange is a murderer.
He killed your husband and almost killed
Lady Felsham and myself.
He killed your husband for the Judas Pair.
But...
- Philip sold them to my husband.
- He was broke.
Your husband didn't tell you because of Philip's
pride and because you were all friends.
La Grange stole them back but he didn't realize
that the turnscrew was not in the case.
Oh, it can't be true.
Please, it can't be true.
Sorry.
It must have broken his
heart to part with them.
You've no idea how
obsessive collectors can be.
He had to get them back.
You can understand that, Lovejoy.
Just as you can understand
how I had to have the complete case.
- No.
- It's true. Everything he says is true.
Would you like to see them?
He did kill James, he's just admitted it.
Admitted what?
A man forces himself into the house
carrying a loaded gun
and accuses me of murders, burnings,
robberies I've never heard of...
surely anyone would try to humor him
into reasonable behavior.
What did you bring?
Mortimer.
Hmm.
Thank you.
I don't think we shall put too many finger
marks on such lovely surfaces. Do you?
We?
I'm sure you wouldn't
kill me in cold blood, Lovejoy,
and a duel will provide superb irony
and the perfect resolution.
I offer you the privilege
of the Judas Pair.
Philip, you're mad.
Muriel, consider the benefits.
Should things go right for Lovejoy,
he'll have the satisfaction of knowing
that justice was done.
And whoever wins,
no one can be blamed afterwards.
I'll tell the police that I was made
to fight a duel by this maniac here.
But alternatively, Lovejoy will
have the proof that I killed James.
Call the police, Muriel.
I'm disappointed.
Don't be.
They are beautiful.
Identical twins.
I'm afraid the room's not quite 60 feet.
Where would you like to choose your ground?
I would like us both to sit at the table.
- Isn't that a trifle unusual?
- Oh, there are precedents.
Please, answer. Please.
Thank you.
Lovejoy?
Lovejoy?
It's all right, Muriel.
Just wait for the police.
- Does that chime?
- Yes.
At the chime, then.
I'm dead the minute I pull the trigger.
You don't even have to fire at all.
I... don't know what you're talking about.
I know how James Field died.
It's all right, it's all
right, he's only fainted.
The firing mechanism
looks perfectly normal,
except that when you pull the trigger,
the bullet comes out backwards
along a concealed barrel.
In other words,
you line it up against your eye,
you take aim...
and you blow your own bloody brains out.
I always thought dueling
was an affair of honor.
Somebody had those
flinters made deliberately?
Some Regency buck was dashing around
bold as brass
- knowing he couldn't bloody lose.
- Yes.
And that someone forced the world's greatest
gunsmith to make a pair of guns that way.
Oh.
What is it?
Either of you speak Latin?
Rex me fecit.
- The king made me?
- Could have been George III.
He was mad as a hatter. Or the Prince
Regent - he was a wencher, a gambler.
So there was a Judas Pair,
and the king made them.
No, no, no, no, no, not the king himself.
No, one of them, George III or the Prince
Regent, forced old Durrs to make them.
- Oh.
- But he had to explain it.
That's why he made the inscription, hoping
that someone someday would know what he meant.
And that someone was you.
King made me.
You know, if I didn't know you
better, Lovejoy,
I'd say that's brought tears to your eyes.