Half Moon Street

Watch where you're going,

you silly cow!

Jesus Christ.

Welcome to London,

Dr. Slaughter...

and to the Institute for Middle

Eastern Strategic Studies.

Dr. Slaughter has

a Ph.D. from Harvard...

and comes to us after

3 years fieldwork in China.

Now, I don't have

to remind you...

how important it is

for our institute...

to maintain its

special relationship...

with the Arab world.

We're dependent upon

its good will...

and its generosity...

for the funding of all

our research projects.

So think of yourselves

as ambassadors...

bridge builders...

friends.

You owe me the money,

Nigel, and I want it.

Ask me nicely, then.

Why should I?

We bought the house together.

Everything is in

the lawyer's hands.

The divorce papers

are going through.

Nigel, I have to pay my rent.

If you can't afford it,

get something smaller.

Smaller?

It's a bed-sitter, Nigel.

It makes our place in Peking

look like a palace.

You used to say

your surroundings...

didn't matter

as long as I was around.

Did I? Well,

I must have been in love.

Don't worry.

It won't happen again.

Julian, I know it's very

un-British to ask this...

but how do you manage?

Manage?

On $150 a week.

You mean you're living

on your Institute salary?

What are you living on?

My father has a small

merchant bank, actually.

Well, bully for you.

What about the rest of us?

Grants, scholarships.

Lauren, it's considered

to be a good job.

Julian, where I come from...

a good job is a job

that pays well.

Why don't you apply for

the Kuwait field trip?

What's that?

Well, every year

the Kuwaitis select...

someone from the Institute

to do field research for them.

First-class travel,

limitless expenses...

and a little extra money.

Sounds too good to be true.

Why haven't you applied?

I have.

Last week's car bombing

of yet another...

Libyan exile in London,

Halfif Hassan...

has underlined

the dangerous mood...

of the unpredictable

Arab leader.

Because of the rising tide

of terrorist violence...

Lord Bulbeck,

Britain's leading expert...

on Middle Eastern affairs,

has stepped up his contacts...

among the moderate Arab states.

Lord Bulbeck,

the international lawyer...

has been asked by

the Prime Minister...

and several

interested parties...

to come in as an impartial

negotiator and observer.

Lindsay!

-Lindsay, come here!

-What is it now?

This place is really

falling apart.

Calm down, Lauren. Ill fix it.

Lindsay, that will only hold

until my next shower.

You know, I do this twice a day.

Why don't you just call

a goddamn plumber...

and really fix it?

No money for a plumber,

and you owe me two weeks rent.

You bloodsucker, Lindsay.

You could hock that video.

And you, Doctor,

you could hock your ass.

Just call the plumber,

Lindsay...

or you'll have another

Notting Hill riot on your hands.

A white one!

You didn't touch your quail.

l don't eat dead animals.

Do you eat them alive,

Dr. Slaughter?

Im a vegetarian.

I guessed as much.

I don't smoke, either.

What do you do, Mr. Van Arkady?

Oh, Im one of these

boring bankers.

Anglo-Arab Investment Trust.

All those boring petrodollars.

What do you do?

Obviously, you're not a banker.

Right now, Im lobbying

like hell...

to get on a field trip

to Kuwait--

care of the Middle

Eastern Institute.

That's where I work.

Im impressed.

Don't be. We're only

paid $150 a week.

-That's not much.

-No.

If there's anything I can do--

that's what bankers are for.

China? Now,

that really scares me.

Nine hundred million people

breeding like rabbits.

You're wrong, Lady Newhouse.

What do you mean, Im wrong?

There are over a billion now.

That's official.

You're both wrong.

There are only

2 people in China...

and I know both of them.

2 people in China? I love it.

OK. If there are

2 people in China...

how many are there in the world?

There are 5,000 people

in the world.

That's it--5,000.

And I suppose, Mr. Van Arkady,

that you've met them all.

Five thousand?

That's all that counts?

What about

the starving millions?

A million isn't a number

in any real sense.

There's murder in nature.

Millions are dying right now--

starved, bombed, in camps.

Nobody gives a damn.

You may deplore it,

but it's a fact.

Those 5,000--who are they?

How many of them are...British?

Forty-five.

-German?

-Sixty.

African?

None, and more Arabs

than you might think...

but they're all here in London.

I suppose the rest are American.

And naturally, Mr. Van Arkady,

you're one of the 5,000.

Bien entendu.

Tell me, how many are women?

-Interested, aren't we?

-Very.

Well, since we're on

the subject of women...

shall we go and have our coffee?

Im going to miss you.

Im not going anywhere.

You don't understand.

You're being summoned.

Ladies to the loo

and baby talk...

whilst we men pass the port

and smoke cigars.

That sucks.

That's London, my dear.

Julian, have you heard anything

from the Kuwait Embassy?

They keep giving me

the run-around.

-About the field trip?

-Yeah.

It hasn't been decided yet.

About that Kuwait trip...

shouldn't I write and

confirm your travel dates?

I suppose, yes.

I didn't know it was so soon.

Well, just draft a letter,

and Ill sign it.

Well...

Good news.

-Good night, Lauren.

-Good night, Julian.

Dr. Slaughter.

This came for you.

Special delivery.

Thank you.

This young woman

earns $200 an hour.

Her takings for a single week...

might be several

thousand pounds.

She is one of a growing

number of young women...

who work in London's

newest industry...

the escort service...

grossing several million pounds

monthly, most of it tax-free.

The Jasmine Agency

has been operating...

for 3 years from their

offices on Pont Street.

It dispatches dozens of girls...

to wealthy customers

all over London...

every night of the year.

Do you take credit cards?

What's that sh*t

you're watching?

I don't believe this.

He has been a mercenary

in the Congo...

Sounds like it's pretty funny.

More than you think.

This is Madame Cybele.

Her last known employer was

the Hotel Bristol, Beirut...

though her duties there

were somewhat obscure.

Oh, no.

Lindsay!

Get out--get out of the way!

I was expecting to get there...

...was sentenced to 6

years for manslaughter...

and 2 years for

disposing of the body.

What can I get you, Love?

Nothing. Lindsay,

I can't take it anymore.

You've got to fix that shower.

Why should I fix the shower?

Its your shower, too.

You fix it.

Lord Bulbeck, well-known

international jurist...

whose services have

been used before...

was a surprise visitor

to number 10...

But I don't have any money.

I mean, I don't have any money.

But you've got this ritzy job

at some institution.

Institute. Ritzy, my ass.

Look at this.

''The Future of Opec,

by General Sir George Newhouse.''

-I wrote this article.

-It don't say that.

He took my piece,

he changed 3 lines...

and he put his name on it.

Look, man, at least you're

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