Brannigan Page #3

You got five envelopes with this tape.

First put 50,000 in each envelope -

get old, used bills.

You make the drop in person. Come to the

mailbox in the middle of Piccadilly Circus

at exactly 11.35am tomorrow morning.

You got that? Next, stay away

from those damn limey cops.

They'll just screw things up.

There's a gun at my head, Fields,

so don't blow this one.

My guys'll tear your heart out.

- Why'd you double-cross him, Fields?

- What does that mean?

Larkin told you

to stay away from the cops.

In Chicago, I would have. But, considering

the reputation of Scotland Yard,

I decided it was in the best interests of

my client to put the matter in their hands.

Oh, you're a real eagle scout, Fields.

- We don't even know it's Larkin's voice.

- Inspector.

Mr Larkin called in to complain

about our surveillance.

The call was routed through Central,

where it was in turn redirected

to the switchboard of our department.

In rather sulphurous language,

Mr Larkin demanded...

Yes, thank you, Mike.

The point is, we taped

Larkin's call, voiceprinted it.

They matched.

Do you think you can raise that money

by tomorrow morning?

That's no problem.

Fortunately Mr Larkin has generous

and influential associates in the States.

- Translation, Commander: hoods.

- A bank draft is on its way.

Mob money, squeezed out of hookers

and skimmed off of casinos.

Yes, well, er, I think we perhaps

better get on with it, Mr Fields.

Commander, what will you be doing?

Well, our interests are mutual -

the safe return of Mr Larkin.

We'll keep you informed.

It's a bit dicey.

Not a copper in sight.

They're down there, all right.

I can smell 'em.

- Morning, sir.

- Morning.

Attention all units.

Rolls-Royce approaching the circus.

Drop completed.

(on radio) Prepare for pick-up phase.

Well, now we'll see.

The mail van's just passed me.

(on radio) Approaching the island now.

It's too damn simple.

- Pick-up completed.

- Right, job completed. Let's go.

We'll take him.

It's a messenger on a scooter.

We're on him.

Right. Get going.

- Like I said...

- Too damn simple.

That's right. Too damn simple.

Don't get too far behind.

- Hold it!

- (splash)

- Can you swim?

- Yeah.

- Go get it.

- Argh!

I'll sink with these boots on!

Oi, give us a hand!

After a few questions.

What's the idea of throwin'

this money in the river?

Money? I don't know nothing

about no money.

Some bloke mailed me instructions

with a 5 note.

- Newspaper!

- What?!

They pulled a murphy!

(messenger) Hey, what about me?

A murphy?

OK.

(Brannigan) Yeah,

they tunnelled from underneath.

(Swann) Yes, of course. And then

they switched envelopes by means of a...

A false bottom.

As simple as that.

A magnet?

Ruddy sewers.

They'll be miles away by now.

I'll be right back.

Hello, Mrs Cooper.

Good afternoon, Mr Brannigan.

- Would you like a coffee?

- Oh, thank you, no.

- Some people are waiting for me.

- Ah.

Oh, Mrs Cooper?

Yes, Mr Brannigan?

- Did I have any visitors today?

- No, I don't think so.

Thank you.

Oh, there was a man here.

Something about the central heating.

- What happened?

- Your central-heating friend left a present.

- We must call the police.

- He is the police.

- You're insured?

- Oh, yes, I am.

- Jim?

- In here.

- What are you doing?

- Well, I'm afraid that the... I'll show you.

- You mean he's put another one in there?

- I mean...

Yes.

Yeah.

Larkin paid 25 grand to get me that view.

- All the usual checks being made?

- Yes, sir.

Ah-ah. All being fingerprinted, guv.

I want a complete report on all sales

of gelignite in the past two months.

And try and trace that damn thing.

- Where is he?

- Downstairs at Mrs Cooper's, sir.

Oh, don't you look nice!

- Thank you.

- I'm sorry I haven't a room available.

- I can make room in my place.

- That's kind but...

- It'd be a pleasure.

- Lieutenant.

We ought to show our visitor

a bit of British hospitality.

- Why don't you take him out for dinner?

- Yes, sir.

Oh, that's very kind of you.

And leave the police work to the Yard.

- Thank you very much, Mrs Cooper.

- Oh, yes, Mrs Cooper, thank you.

Enjoy yourself, Lieutenant.

I will.

(clears throat)

Perhaps you'd care for a cup of coffee.

Come along.

Well...

But it says "for sale".

I can get them to rent it to you,

if you don't mind me as your neighbour.

Why should I?

Puts me closer to my driver.

- It's been a lovely evening, Jim.

- Yeah, pleasant.

And I hate to change the mood.

- Jenny, I want you to do me a favour.

- You shouldn't have that. That's a felony.

- Is that so?

- Yes, that is so.

Commander Swann was not amused.

I had these names run down

by the department.

They all check out except that one.

- Jimmy-the-Bet.

- That's right. You know him?

Yeah. He's a bookie. He's also a grass -

what you call a stoolie.

He's got his eye on every keyhole

in London. Is it important?

Anything that has to do

with Larkin is important.

He's in blackmail, extortion, hard drugs -

you name it, he's in it.

Jenny, I just happen to be working

the other side of the street.

Is that all?

Well, a couple of years ago

I was makin' it tough for him and...

one night he hit back.

Pair of shotguns.

He obviously missed.

But the rookie riding with me

took a blast in his face.

He left a widow and a couple of nice kids.

I'm sorry, Jim.

You must have been close to him.

Well, that'd make a good story.

But that's not the reason.

The truth is, I hated his guts

and he didn't like me.

He had a degree in criminology and...

Well, the hell with that. I...

My job was to keep him alive

until he could get smart enough

or tough enough to take care of himself.

I blew it.

What's that for?

I don't know.

You're just so... damn solid.

Fat, you mean.

- Telephone for you, sir.

- Thank you.

Hello?

Yes, Inspector.

Yes, right away.

He wants us back at the office.

(Swann) Yes, well, there's no doubt

that fingerprint is Larkin's.

Oh. Forgive me for interrupting

your evening, Lieutenant.

Jenny, the artist has a sketch of our mad

bomber in 194. Pick it up for me, will you?

Your theory that Larkin may have staged

his own kidnapping doesn't quite work.

- Is that so?

- Someone sent a contribution from him.

Did you print it?

Of course.

Third finger of the left hand.

And it was accompanied by a demand

for an additional 350,000 quid.

That brings the ante up

to a million and a half dollars.

The additional payment was a penalty

because Mr Fields consulted the Yard.

- These gentlemen play rough.

- And smart.

They certainly made bloody fools of us

in that Piccadilly caper.

In all my years at the Yard

I've never received a finger in the post.

Lord knows what they'll send us next.

Ah, thank you.

That's it. It's based

on your landlady's description.

We've wired copies to Interpol, the Sret

and the FBI. Does it ring a bell for you?

No, but if Larkin has a contract

on me, he'd hire top talent.

Well, I want you on

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