Mortdecai Page #8

Forty-five, thank you, sir.

45, 50, back on the...

Give me the painting.

What painting?

I see that you have been schooled

in the... fine art of fencing.

Alas,

so have I.

An essential part

of every gentleman's education.

And as a gentleman,

I should warn you...

that my coup d'arret

is still whispered about

in hushed tones to this very day.

I don't like it, I don't like it,

I don't like it, I don't like it!

Twenty-five thousand pounds.

Lot Five. Smiling Woman in a Chair.

Sold for 210,000 pounds.

And now, moving on to Lot Six.

Oh, dear.

I would like to humbly

and unreservedly offer my deepest...

Truce?

Ladies and gentlemen,

if you would please remain calm.

Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please

remain in your seats, I would be grateful.

Where is Mortdecai?

Well, come on, then.

God.

Going on to Lot Seven.

- Colonel Blucher with Hounds near Twineham.

- But quietly. Quietly.

A lovely Sheridan offered

by the Mortdecai estate.

Shall we start the bidding

at 100,000 pounds?

One hundred thousand pounds.

Thank you, Sir Graham.

Fang wants finger.

Must go and bid. Must go and bid.

Must go and bid.

Where is Mortdecai? Tell me.

He's not here, mate. He sent me.

- Where is he?

- It's just me, mate.

Oh, God!

Dear, sweet, heroic Jock.

Two hundred. Very good.

Do we have three?

Three.

Yes, well, in future, if you could

please use your paddles.

I will take your finger.

I couldn't help overhearing

some discussion about your finger.

Oh, don't worry about that, sir,

I've got nine more.

I feel simply awful, man,

but I must get to the auction.

- I'll be all right, sir.

- We need eight million.

Now, can we go to 500?

500, ladies and gentlemen.

There he is. Now don't cause a panic.

Just get him.

Five hundred thousand.

Five hundred thousand.

- Hold. Hold.

- Thank you, madam, 500,000.

Do I have 600? 600,000 pounds,

ladies and gentlemen.

- Bid.

- What?

A bid from Lady Mortdecai, who seems

to be bidding on her own painting.

Just taking the horse for a trot out

to London and back, are we?

- Yeah.

- Very well. 600 then.

I'll make it up to you, Jockie.

Oh, I know you will, sir.

You always do.

Well done, sir.

It is a privilege, Jock.

Are we all done at 900,000?

Go bid!

Fair warning at 900,000 pounds...

from Sir Graham.

Last chance.

- And we are...

- Darling.

Yes, Lord Mortdecai?

Would you also like to make a bid?

Ten million pounds.

Ten million pounds

from Lord Mortdecai himself.

Move!

Come on! Twenty million, you swine!

Twenty-five million.

Twenty-five and a half!

26 and a quarter!

- Thirty million. Final offer!

- Is that our final bid?

Are we all done at 30 million pounds?

Sold.

There you are. 2,642 pounds.

I do beg your pardon.

Maths were never my strong suit.

But there was mention of 30 million,

so you take that.

Less commission, carrying,

handling, and transfer taxes,

left a total of just over

eight million pounds.

Which I am sorry to report has been...

Garnished by Her Majesty's government

in settlement of your tax bill, Charlie.

Can you think of a good reason

why I shouldn't arrest you right now?

I eschew discomfort?

Any blame here should fall on me.

Dear Alastair,

if I led you to believe

there was anything between us,

it was merely to find out

about the case and protect my husband.

Can you forgive me?

Of course, Johanna.

Charlie?

It was a damned good try, old bean.

"Of all sad words of tongue or pen,

"the saddest are these,

'It might have been'."

Thank you, Maurice.

Poor Jock. He was frantic with worry.

But I knew everything

would be all right in the end.

Magnificent.

Do you think the codes

are really there?

They most certainly are, darling.

And I gave them to the authorities.

Anonymously, of course.

We may be flat broke, my darling,

but we are not desperate.

I do hope Romanov doesn't come down

too hard on Sir Graham,

when he finds out

he bought the wrong fake.

Lights.

That is disappointing.

Very disappointing.

Open your balls.

Bollocks.

Now...

tell me about that tramp on the horse.

Oh, my darling, I tried desperately

to be unfaithful to you, I really did.

But I just couldn't do it.

It's a terrible moment

when you find yourself

falling in love

with your own spouse, isn't it?

Now, that is the look that softens

every bone in my body, except one.

Do you mean you are ready?

I see no obstacle to such a course.

My love, surely you recall

I have already been circumcised.

Charlie?

Mrs. Mortdecai, as you well know,

I am a man of few words.

I deeply, deeply love...

my moustache.

But... I have discovered...

that I love you...

more.

Proceed.

Would you really do that for me?

For you,

there is nothing I would not do.

Well, in that case, Mr. Mortdecai,

I should be very pleased

if you would keep it.

Really?

I mean...

Oh, darl...

Your gag reflex.

Try me.

Pookie.

I have never been so...

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