Inside the Bank Job Page #6

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You two have been staring

daggers at each other

since we left the bank

What is it?

Lover's tiff (quarrel)?

I think Martine has got

something to tell us.

Hang on, pal.

That's Princess Margaret.

F*** me...

Where do these come from?

You knew the exact

box this stuff was in, Martine.

You'd better come clean and tell us

what this is really about.

About a month ago I got busted at

Heathrow on a drug charge.

This guy I know said he would fix it

to keep me out of jail,

if I do him a favour.

He knew I knew some villains.

He wanted to set up a robbery

to get these.

F***ing hell!

That would be the bloke

you met in the Player's Club.

Same guy you said was trying

to pick you up in the club, right?

- Yeah.

- Well, so who is he?

He's a guy I met at the Sombrero Club.

He works for some shady outfit

in White Hall.

- Oh no, no. You mean MI f***ing 5?

- Or 6?

We could get seriously

nicked here, Martine!

No, we couldn't.

All Tim wants is the contents

of box 118.

The deal with him is,

we get to keep everything else.

And you believe that?

You put your trust in some prick

we've never even met.

You lied to us, Martine!

We were sitting ducks

right from ther start.

Thank you very much.

You think it's a coincidence

that you get busted for drugs

and your Tim just happens to have

a plan to rob a bank?

This can work out.

We give him the photos and

everything else in that box

and we get to keep the rest

and we're free and clear.

These people are regular cozzers

(bad cops), Martine.

They are above that.

They do things coppers can't.

They think we've seen these photos,

we're expendable as dog sh*t.

You know what?

I've seen our shots

and I don't know...

we're either dog sh*t

or about to beat dog sh*t.

I'm out of here.

I'm not waiting for a load of spooks

and coppers to come cracking my head.

I'm splitting like Guy and Bambas.

It would be better if we

stuck together, Dave.

And why, tell me?, 'cause we've been so

truthful with each other so far?

- Dave, come on...

- No, I'm going home, Kev. See my mom.

And then I'm going far away, as far

as I can get away from you.

We'd better get out of here, too.

In case Guy and Bambas get picked up.

Let's split the lot of this.

There may be someone else in this sh*t

to cause us some more grief.

- One of those, mate.

- Here you go.

- Keep the change.

- Thanks.

- They overheard our radio chat.

- F***in' hell...

"Police last night were trying to home in

on a 300.000 bank raid."

They still don't know

what bank it was.

- 300 grand?

- It's a bit more than that...

More like 3 million.

- Hello?

- Martine Love.

Thank God.

Put us through and then run a trace.

It's me.

What happened?

Where the hell are you?

London.

I know, of course.

I mean, where?

I know what you mean.

Martine, we have to meet.

I agree.

Why don't you come over to my place?

I'll make you a cocktail,

and we'll have a roll in the hay

for old times' sake.

Oh, right. You would have

been there, haven't you?

Probably have your men

keeping lookout for me now.

You're not in a position

to play games, Martine.

No threats please, Tim.

Why didn't you tell me what

it was I was set up to get you?

For your own good.

I care about your safety, Martine.

Right.

I suppose I give you what you

want and we go our separate ways.

That's what I promised.

Ok, today. Tottenham Court Road 2.

Northern isle, northbound platform.

Tottenham Court Road, 10:30.

Good.

"London vaults checked after radio HAM

tunes in to a crime."

Christ, what a fiasco!

And now the particular

bank has been identified,

the story will be all over the news.

We've heard it already is.

If we don't get onto the case quickly

the police will have nabbed

these robbers,

and God knows what will happen to

our photographs.

Philip, get over to the bank.

Take control of the situation.

Gentlemen. I've just had

a conversation with one Martine Love.

Where is she?

Call was traced to a public phone box

on Miller's Court.

Good news is,

she's arranged a meet.

That is good news.

- I'll be better off going alone.

- Yeah.

Tim has agreed to meet.

It's all over the news.

They found the location of the bank.

So what?

Keep the change.

I'm sorry, ma'am,

you can't go in.

There's been a robbery.

We know there's been a robbery,

that's why we're all here.

Everybody that works here.

I need everybody. Speak to him.

Gerald?

You work in robbery now then?

You're a long way off your patch.

Regional crime squad now.

Just went by to see

what all the fuss is about.

Pretty cheeky, that radio bit.

These walkie-talkie robbers

certainly caught your lot on the hop.

Makes us all look stupid.

Yeah, well...

You're pretty chummy with all

the villains around town.

You got any idea who

could have done this?

None of my informers.

We have been waiting here

quite some time,

and so far you people have

told us absolutely nothing.

If you would like to give us an

itemized list

of the content of your boxes,

we may be able to ascertain...

- Are you mad?

- ...what's missing.

The whole point in having

a safe deposit box

is so that people like you

don't know what's in it!

I want to speak to a Roy Given.

Yeah, that's me.

This robbery is now a matter of

national security.

I want everybody out.

This is a police investigation.

Not anymore.

Call your superiors.

Who the bloody hell does he think he is?

Spooks (agents). MI-5 or 6,

I can never tell the difference.

They all got the same tailor

and they all went to

the same bloody school.

Let's get some copies of the...

walkie-talkie tapes

out to the news boys.

Maybe the public can help

identify the villains.

So tell me... Which of the boxes

were ransacked?

The lot.

Oh, we're in a crapper, Jerry.

Both of us.

Both?

Now, why is it my problem?

Accounts have to be balanced

records kept.

And I wouldn't likely keep the books

around here, now would I?

Spell it out, Lew.

Be more specific.

I have a ledger,

a record of every payment

I've ever made to you

and your colleagues.

It was in my safety deposit box,

and I think we can safely assume...

it's now in the possession

of the robbers.

Jesus wept.

And I think you'll agree

we have to find those villains

before your honest colleagues do.

For f***'s sake.

Who is this?

Lew Vogel.

Hold on.

Get up.

Come on, wake up.

What do you want, Lew?

I'm afraid I've got some

potentially bad news for you, Michael.

Your safety deposit box at

the Baker Street bank...

what's its number?

Why do you ask?

Well, because some thieves broke into

the bank vault and robbed it.

So if your box is in the

I'm afraid all your stuff

will be gone.

Mine too, unhappily.

What? How can this happen in London?

Well, I promise you it has happened.

I promise you these thieves will be

found and dealt with.

You can rely on it.

I'll keep you informed.

Thank you.

No-one touches me, follows me

or Martine takes your stuff...

right to Fleet Street, understood?

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