Layer Cake Page #5

Drinks are on me.

Drinks for everyone.

Champagne.

F***ing good gear and all.

But I've come unstuck in my attempts

to provide a spectacle for my chums.

Jimmy, as usual

on the lookout for tidbits...

... has met the development minister

of some tin-pot republic.

They're trawling the West

for investments.

They have vast natural resources.

Quite an investment for the right man.

They've sent in men from Timbuktu

explaining all the details.

Profits, shares, long-term

investments, short-term investments.

They've even made him

an honorary citizen.

Even made him one of the tribe.

What we didn't know,

until it all ended in tears...

...was that the hardline

communist insurgents...

... who control the country

outside the mining areas...

Bad news about our little venture, Jim.

The communists have broken through.

Heading for the capital

with little resistance.

What the f*** are you on about?

I got word they were

planning a push.

The final coup de grce.

I told Jimmy.

- It's all over.

- F***'s sake!

- Keep your voice down.

- Get my money out quick, now.

As if it was some little kiddie's

piggy bank.

I explained that wasn't possible. We

thought we'd bought a government.

Maybe someone made a better offer.

Forget about it.

You win some, you lose some.

How much are we talking?

It's only a cheeky half-mil, Jim.

- It's much more than that.

- How much?

- Thirteen.

- Thirteen what?

- Thirteen million pounds. I'm f***ed.

- Have you gone f***ing mad?

Thirteen million pounds!

How could you be

so f***ing stupid?

You've been right grafted,

royally turned over.

Like some Yank buying

London Bridge.

Don't talk to me like that.

He accused me of instigating it.

It's no coincidence

I met them at your tournament.

Are you f***ing demented?

Asked me to fly to Zurich

to see the minister...

...still parked up in La Maison Grande,

still eating well.

Big fat f***er.

On little Jimmy's nest egg.

Jimmy thought he'd keep

Charlotte hostage...

...while you went to get his money.

Little Jimmy was so stupid,

he thought he couldn't lose either way.

I'm sorry, what?

If you find Charlotte,

he's got his hostage.

If I find you trying to find her,

I do his dirty work.

- I'm still not with you.

- Your lives are inextricably linked.

I've found out something

very interesting about Jimmy...

...something I've long suspected.

But I'll let Jimmy explain.

You follow me.

You've no doubt suffered...

...Jimmy's "CID was geezers you

was at school with" routine?

The other chap's Albert Carter.

Another twisted bastard

from the old neighborhood.

Member of the Regional Crime Squad.

Sit back, relax, enjoy.

It ain't like your lot in the old days.

- They've all gone squeaky.

- Tell me about it, Jim.

I have to box clever with those

college boys from Anti-Corruption.

- F***ing dogs. Slags. Ten grand?

- That's the going rate, Jim.

Ten K. Hardly seems

worth the bother.

Well, there's only so much

in those informer funds.

What about Gene?

Does he suspect anything?

What? About me working

for the old firm? Listen. Gene...

...is too loyal for his own good.

- I don't f***ing believe it.

- You better believe it.

- Because it's f***ing happening.

- Where did you get this?

Mr. Troop made it for me.

- It's one of his little hobbies.

- I don't f***ing believe it.

Don't you wanna hear

what Jimmy has to say about you?

I've got one for you.

Plucked and ready for the pot.

- Just give us a name, and he's gone.

- In time.

I don't want a bunce.

I want him out of the way.

Flash young runt.

One of the new breed, ain't he?

Reckons he can just waltz off

into retirement.

I want him away for 12.

If he's got a kilo of class A,

he's looking at double figures.

- I'll put it there myself.

- Sounds personal.

He's got a few quid.

He'll come in handy.

I set him up with that slippery

accountant in the first place.

F***ing rag-head let slip, didn't he?

"You will miss him when he's gone,

Mr. Price. "

Is that you, the flash runt

who thinks he's retiring?

You'd no idea what

Jimmy was up to?

How do you think these f***ers

earn a living?

I would've thought a smart young man

like you would know that already.

- Can I have that?

- Mr. Troop.

Thank you.

This looks like you, son.

Smart part of town.

I'll keep an eye open. Must dash off.

Get home. Wash and brush up.

Opera tonight.

The Damnation of Faust.

Man sells his soul to the devil.

All ends in tears.

These arrangements usually do.

One more thing, young man.

Always remember, the art of good

business is being a good middleman.

Bye-bye.

F***!

- I've got him.

- Got who?

Sidney, remember?

Yellow Range Rover?

Seems they sent our friend out

for something to eat.

Good. Tell Morty.

- So, what do we do now?

- Call Morty.

Shut up and listen.

No more insults, no more games.

If I do not get my cargo back,

you're a dead man.

Dragan, I've been doing

some checking.

- I've found out who you represent.

- Good.

I can point you towards

your boss's merchandise.

- Come to my hotel...

- Look...

...Id rather meet you

in a public place.

You have nothing to fear.

I'm a reasonable man.

That's not what I've heard.

I'll meet you at...

I'll meet you

at Greenwich Park Observatory.

- Any taxi will drop you off.

- I can read a map.

- Tomorrow. Midday.

- Tomorrow at 12.

I'll be there.

That's rude, Mr. Dragan.

Condition's red down there, pal.

They're didgy as f***.

They haven't moved from that lockup.

Have a look at the geezer

at the front, on the door.

I know him from somewhere.

This could get messy.

What about the blokes in red?

Mechanics.

They got a ringing coup going on.

The lorries come in one color,

go out another.

But they're nothing to do

with the Duke.

- F*** me, look who it isn't.

- Who's that?

It doesn't matter. I've got work to do.

- Stay here. Those pills move, call me.

- You got it.

- Day and night, Terry.

- What do you mean "night"?

- I've been here all day. Get Clarkie.

- Day and f***ing night. Got it?

Hello, young man. Thank you

for coming at such short notice.

I hope you didn't feel too summoned.

How are you?

I'm in the best of health, Mr. Temple.

Thank you for asking.

- How are you keeping?

- I'm very well.

- How was the performance of Faust?

- Complex.

No wonder it took him

How's the family?

What is this? A vicar's tea party?

You do sometimes take

your conversations away with you.

Being a clever bastard, are we?

- How do I know you're not wired up?

- Well, I'm not.

Then we'll have to trust each other,

won't we? Sit down.

I've been thinking, after

our chat the other day.

Your pills. How much for the lot?

No, I've already got a buyer.

Nearly took my hand off.

He's putting the money together now.

I told you, lah. I'm still thinking.

It's only been three days.

What's the f***ing hurry?

- What's he paying?

- It's confidential.

Don't be an idiot.

Let me match his offer.

Rate this script:3.0 / 1 vote