Gambit Page #7

Many thanks, Ms Puzkoza.

- Hey, Harry.

- Oh, Deane.

They probably think

you're pretty strange too, Lionel,

what with you being a nudist an' all.

What with my being a what?

- A nudist.

- Nothing wrong with that, is there?

Hell, no. I think

it's real relaxing going naked.

What the devil are you talking about?

I understood you to have said once

that you attended the Eden Retreat.

That isn't a nudist gathering.

Somebody's been having you on.

It's one of the most formal gatherings

you could imagine.

Once again, Deane,

you have things arse backwards.

- I understand, sir. I apologise.

- Just forget it.

Deane... we really need

to have a private talk.

There is something

I have to discuss with you.

You boys get your bellies full?

Blast, here they come again.

I would rather not have to talk to them.

- Can't we just do business?

- I can take care of these old boys.

And I shall just pop up

and examine the painting.

Gentlemen.

Found some nourishment, I see.

Have you boys heard of a little thing

called live karaoke?

# How lucky can one guy be?

# I kissed her and she kissed me

# Like a fella once said

# Ain't that a kick in the head?

# The room was completely black

Thank you, gents. That'll do.

Hmm.

Whoo! Let me tell you

a little bit about Texas.

# The stars at night are big and bright

# Deep in the heart of Texas

# The prairie sky is wide and high

Yippee-ai!

# Deep in the heart of Texas

That's my boys!

Deep in the heart of Texas!

Assuming I close this deal,

may we conclude yours as well?

The painting arrived, yes?

Harry told you

he was going to take a look at it.

No, he couldn't have.

My security's on, you see.

Your security?

It's quite an ingenious system.

I dreamt it up myself.

I hope he's not stupid enough

to have gone up there.

Then again,

we are talking about Deane.

Oh. Sh*t.

Go away.

No, there's no need for that.

Now, stop it.

Stop it. Oh!

Harry?

Damn.

OK, Harry,

I'm gonna have to take him down.

Ya! Come on, big boy!

Bad lion! Bad lion! Come on!

Heel! Come on!

To the deal, then.

Banzai!

Oh!

Well, that's that.

- Are you sure he's secure?

- That's a double granny.

He can't work out of that.

Ms Puznowski,

your timing is impeccable.

Thank you.

I can handle anything

that's got four legs.

Once you trip 'em up, they're gravy.

As your momma used to say.

I'm going to get somebody

to deal with him.

Hey, Shabby.

Where on earth have you been?

Well...

God, Deane,

this is so typical of you.

What on earth were you doing larking

about up here creating a nuisance?

More than a nuisance,

a bloody dangerous situation.

PJ could well have been mauled,

and all to no end.

Hardly to no end. It is my job to ensure

the integrity of the collection.

Sorry, Deane, it isn't your job.

Sorry to have to break it to you

like this,

but we're knocking it on the head.

I've got a new man.

It was a bloody chore hiring him.

I had to advance him two years' salary.

- Zaidenweber?

- Zaidenweber.

I am pleased to inspect.

- Fine, but I hardly think you're...

- Stand down, Deane.

How does it look, Martin?

What do you say?

Ja. Almost incredible.

Almost incredible.

But...

Yeah.

The painting is in order.

- It's beautiful, isn't it?

- Hm-hmm.

The brush strokes. The impasto.

Everything is just quite the way

it should be.

And there are certain things

that you cannot phoney up.

Gross depiction, maybe, but

the finer fingerprints of technique, no,

absolutely not, you cannot, no.

I mean, this is, I have to say,

really quite bloody marvellous.

This is authentic.

Now, you can do tests

until your testicles are cerulean blue,

but there is no doubt in my mind.

- Alright, then.

- Bollocks.

- I beg your pardon?

- Bollocks.

Excuse me?

Anyone with an eye can see

that something is amiss here.

What the devil are you...?

Harry!

Fake.

The impasto is a caricature

of Monet's actual brush handling,

which was infinitely more subtle.

And as far as I'm aware,

Monet never painted over

a rather hackneyed portrait of...

Martin.

I'm disappointed.

Imagine how I feel.

Auf Wiedersehen, meine Lieblinge.

And as for you, you're either

rather clever or not clever enough.

Either way, it's clear

that you're of no further use to me.

Speaking of clever, what did you expect?

It was hanging on a wall

in a trailer in Texas.

And besides,

I was never gonna be any use to you.

Well, no harm done.

Just a bit of a waste of time,

that's all.

Well, Deane, against expectations,

you seem to know

what you're on about rather.

You will continue in the job.

- Now, if you'll excuse me...

- I think not, sir.

You think not what?

I think not regarding

continuing in the job.

I'm afraid I can no longer

render services

to a man who'd wilfully insult

the intelligence and moral character

of a woman I have so come

to admire and respect.

You are a boor, sir.

And a bully. And I've had enough.

So I'll just gather my kit...

...and bid you a semi-fond farewell.

Ms Puznowski, may I see you out?

Yes, you may.

Excuse me.

You know, Harry Deane,

for an Englishman, you sure do have

some big old cojones.

They say

you can't put a price on dignity,

but if you could, in Harry Deane's case,

it would be approximately 11 million.

Well, that didn't go

exactly according to plan.

I know it sounds funny coming from me,

but now I wish you'd let him buy it.

I just couldn't help myself, you know?

Hear, hear.

I'll make it up to you, I promise.

No, no, you did your bit.

I owe you your wages.

Here we are.

Well, here we are.

Your tickets.

- I regret that it's economy.

- Unrestricted.

- Well, goodbye, Harry.

- Goodbye.

Come here.

- Major.

- Madam.

Shall we, Major?

No problems, then, sir?

Security was a little tougher

than I'd anticipated.

But you had time

to make the switch?

Oh, yes.

Shabandar will never suspect.

Beautiful work, Major.

- On which one?

- Both of them.

Although I'm afraid I had to destroy

your Dusk to prove it was a fake.

Understood, sir. No hard feelings.

Thoughtful of this gentleman to make

the trip. Saves us going to Japan.

Mr Takagawa.

- Hello, Harry.

- Hello, Charlie.

Hello, Major. Everything alright?

- Everything according to plan.

- Right you are, Mr Deane.

Very good.

Mr Takagawa wants to thank you.

He says he has been waiting 18 years

for this moment.

Not at all. Pleasure to have done it.

Oh, yes.

I'm clever. But look.

Monet.

Inimitable. Though no doubt

your version will satisfy Shabandar.

He assures me

the transfer has been made.

The money should now be

in your Swiss account.

- Excellent.

- Hello?

Major?

It's gone through.

So much better

than having to count it all.

I'd have got it all bollocksed up

before I got to ten million.

- Thank you, gentlemen.

- Thank you, Harry.

Has anyone given you anything

to take on board our flight?

- No, ma'am.

- Thank you.

Oh, Harry Deane.

You'll see

she gets what we owe her?

Certainly, sir.

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