[mellow jazzy music] [Henry knocking] Hello, sir.

They won't be able to resist that little beauty, will they, sir?

Guthrie in position?

I can't get him on his radio or his bleep.

[sighs] If that crew decide to take that lorry right now, we're not going to look very clever, are we?

[knocking] I'm not sure about this idea, Mr. Crabbe.

Most of the lorries were nicked along this stretch of road, Mr. Lees.

Just think of your wagon as bait.

Yeah, well, long as you keep a tight hold on the rod, eh?

Absolutely.

Guthrie.

[players shouting] I've got to go, Coach.

[phone ringing] [metal clanging] Punters?

Can't be.

[suspenseful music] Come on, lads, get a move on.

[Henry] Hey, what the hell is going on?

Sir!

-What?

-There's somebody in there.

[tires squealing] Go!

All right, lads, let's have you lying down on the floor.

Facedown.

Come on.

You just try it.

Who are you?

Troubleshooter Security.

You looked like you needed a hand.

Always happy to help the police.

Sir.

Fowler!

Fisher, sir.

Heard about Ash, did you?

[Fisher] Heart attack, was it?

He was overseeing the football team.

Ah.

[Braithwaite] Think you could do it?

The football team, sir?

Only one game left, but we've got to win it.

Championship decider.

Don't worry.

I've got a bit of a secret weapon for you.

[Man] Come on.

Let's do it one more time, then.

Sir.

Fought your way out of that paper bag, then, did you, Crabbe?

It wasn't a paper bag, sir.

It was a caravan tarpaulin, actually, which is why I wanted to talk to you.

We were on a secret operation to identify a team of lorry thieves.

Cum caravan thieves.

And Troubleshooter Security just happened to have a dozen men in the area.

Which I think is pushing coincidence just a little bit too far.

Operation's finished now.

I've got something else for you.

Think they're any good?

You're asking me?

[whistle blowing] Okay, lads, come on.

Game over.

Let's see you in the showers.

Overhaul security.

Take over the arrangements.

They knew we were police officers, you know.

What else were you gonna be?

We could've been bona fide fast-food merchants, couldn't we?

We could have been having a lover's tryst or something.

Your wife's away, isn't she?

I didn't mean.

Got a bit of room at home, then?

[suspenseful music] -Lads.

-Gentlemen.

Gentlemen.

We're here to see Mr. Lees.

Well, he's not here today.

Well, then, he can expect us tomorrow.

I was hoping to catch you before it was too late.

Consider me gone, sir.

We shall miss you, Charlie.

With respect, sir, I shan't reciprocate that.

They're computerizing.

Ah.

What are you going on to?

Pub, sir.

Cotswolds.

Only a little place.

Beer garden, though, good kitchen.

Oh, you're doing food, then?

[Reeves] Want a job, sir?

Do you know, just now, I really wouldn't mind.

Maybe I could pick your brain sometime.

You know, catering and so forth.

One sec.

About that lorry-watch operation.

How many people do you think knew about that?

Traffic had to be informed, and uniform were told to keep off the plot.

Your C.I.D.

colleagues, the A.C.C.

More a question of who didn't know, sir.

Yeah.

Anything had got out, they wouldn't have turned up, though, would they, sir?

Well, it's more a question of who else turned up, really.

Troubleshooters?

You don't want to get carried away, sir.

If that was a joke, Charlie Reeves- [someone knocking] Sorry, looking for Mr. Fisher's office.

Oh, yeah, right.

Thank you.

Yes.

Follow me.

I like that waistcoat, sir.

Do you mind me asking where you got that from?

The waistcoat?

Ah, inside.

After you.

D.I.

Crabbe, D.C. David Thomson.

[Henry] We've met, sir.

Have a seat, both of you.

Fine here, thank you, sir.

Sit there, Constable.

D.C. Thomson's gonna be working undercover for a few days.

Until Saturday.

Inspector Crabbe has very kindly agreed to put you up.

Uh, undercover sir?

Take this, Crabbe.

I'm fully housetrained, sir.

One celery soup and two carpaccios, please.

Carpacci.

[Sally] What?

One carpaccio, two carpacci.

I knew that.

I just didn't know if you did.

Hm.

Uno, dos, fresh-a-fruit-y-salad.

Dos is Spanish, not Italian.

-No, it's not.

-Yes, it is.

-It's not.

-It is.

I don't want to interrupt anything important, but this is Detective Constable David Thomson.

He'll be with us a couple of days.

This is Gary.

Sally.

Mr. Fisher said this was a caff.

This isn't a caff.

This is a proper establishment.

We like to think so.

Your room.

All found, eh?

Bed and board, Mr. Crabbe.

I didn't realize undercover work required a special diet.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Lean meat, breast of chicken, pasta, bean sprouts, alfalfa.

Can't wait.

I went out with a hurdler once.

He had to eat this sort of stuff.

Well, in my experience, police officers working undercover usually survive on pizzas, coffee, and cheap supermarket Scotch.

Mm.

Healthy combination.

An undercover agent?

Keeping something undercover.

Which means you two saw nothing, all right?

Can I get an orange juice round here?

-In the fridge.

-Thanks.

[Henry] I'm sorry we haven't got any alfalfa, but you're perfectly welcome to anything else on the menu.

No, it's okay.

I ate earlier, thanks.

Be no trouble.

Juice'll do me.

Ahh.

Can I do anything?

[someone whistling] Blimey, someone's hungry.

Is my friend here?

Mr., Mr. Thomson.

I'll just, um.

[suspenseful music] Turkey Kirkie!

-Can I help you?

-No.

It's him I want.

All right, Jim?

Well, let's go, Mr. Thomson.

You're frightening all these people.

Not a natural in the world of undercover work, our Mr. Thomson.

[Sally] At least he's got a bit of life about him.

Bit of life, has he?

Got an advantage over me, then.

That wouldn't be very difficult, now, would it?

I think what Gary's trying to say, Sally, is that Mr. Thomson is a drunk.

That's why he drinks orange juice, is it?

By way of Vladivostock.

He just thinks that anyone that has a drink is a drunk.

No, I just think that anyone who is a drunk is a drunk.

Turkey Kirkie.

You know, it's a really weird nickname, that, isn't it, for somebody called David.

That's 'cause he looks like that Kirk whatshisname, though, isn't it?

You know, he used to play for Man City.

Or was it Sheffield Wednesday.

Oh, you know.

Kirk, um.

Dropped out of the game a few years ago.

Flowerbridge.

Kirk Flowerbridge.

He's a footballer?

Yeah.

Perfect.

I thought it best to have a good look at the team first, sir.

Ah, yeah.

Since they're now under our protection.

Oh, yeah.

It's difficult to see the point in this assignment, sir.

A.C.C.

Fisher's methods are occasionally less than transparent.

They're almost never pointless.

And the point of us sitting here watching the grass grow?

It's 'cause we messed up on that lorry watch, isn't it?

No, no.

No, Mr. Fisher has been told to see the team through to the last game of the season.

Not knowing the first thing about football has made him very edgy.

Of course, if they win the game, he'll be covered in glory.

Mind you, if they lose, he'll be covered in something else.

Yeah, well, we've never beaten them before, sir.

Their goalkeeper's ex-professional.

Is he?

Yes.

Jim Cutler, sir.

He used to be a big name.

Well, till he did something disreputable.

Who is this game against, anyway?

Troubleshooters, sir.

You won't have to watch the grass grow now, Morton.

You'll be able to watch the paint dry instead.

Well, well, well.

Kirk Flowerbridge.

Ex-premiership.

Ex-England under-21 striker.

How are the mighty fallen.

All right, all right.

Mr. Fisher wants you to play football on Saturday, doesn't he?

You'll have to ask him about that, sir.

-What time is it?

-12.

I've got to be somewhere.

Meeting your friend from yesterday?

It was Jim.

That's what you called him, wasn't it?

Jim?

Jim, sir?

Wouldn't be Jim Cutler by any chance?

You know, ex-professional goalkeeper.

I've really got to go, sir.

[shaver whirring] Stand there, Constable.

Was that man Jim Cutler?

Yes, sir.

Does he play for the Troubleshooter team?

-Yes, sir.

-Do I infer from that that he's employed by Troubleshooter Security?

I'm not too sure about that, sir.

Uh-huh.

I'm happy with my security, thanks.

Just look at the list.

That's all your security men, yeah?

The ones marked in yellow are all ex-cons.

Where did you get this?

I'm not saying we're angels.

You wouldn't want angels, though, would you, not when there's a bit of slapping about to do.

Another interesting thing.

-Terry.

-All right, John.

They're not the only ones around here who've seen the wrong side of a cell door, are they?

[Coach] And up!

That's it.

Nice job, lads.

Around we go.

[Henry] Morton.

Just checking the gates, sir.

Never mind the gates.

Look, I want you to go to the reference library.

Find out everything you can about Jim Cutler.

Jim Cutler?

Come on, I'll give you a lift.

[suspenseful music] I'd like to talk to you, sir, about D.C. Thomson.

This football trophy, Crabbe, it's enormous.

Gonna have to get a bigger cabinet.

He's a footballer, isn't he, sir?

Kirk Flowerbridge.

What of it?

You told me he was an undercover officer.

He is undercover.

They've had him tucked away over at Records.

He's coming out into the open on Saturday to win me the league championship.

Shouldn't he be out there training with all the others?

Shock tactics, Crabbe.

Be like a wolf among sheep.

He's a heavy drinker.

How heavy?

Heavy enough to spend most of the day lying facedown.

Why didn't you say so?

I just have.

I can't go to the chief constable with this.

You'll look a complete incompetent.

I appreciate your concern, sir.

I want him in shape, Crabbe.

Off the bottle and fit for Saturday.

Just like that?

Come to me at this late stage, what else do you expect?

Here.

And...

Here.

You'll find that we're worth the extra.

And, of course, we're very discreet.

I'm late for a meeting.

Oi!

Your boss wants a word with you.

Break the news gently.

You'd better make the most of these leisurely lunches, Charlie.

You'll be far too busy once you've retired.

I shall be sitting on a barstool, letting the old lady do the work.

[Henry chuckling] Listen, what do you know about this Kirk Flowerbridge?

Mr. Fisher's D.C. Thomson?

He was a good footballer.

And as a police officer?

He was a good footballer.

-[Henry chuckling] -So this job they've got him down at the Records Office is, uh.

Calling it a job, sir, would be going a little bit too far, I think.

He showed his face two or three times a week, moved a couple of pieces of paper from one pile to another.

And in return, he provides them with his dazzling skills on the football field?

I think that was the original idea, yes, sir.

Yeah.

Oh, just going back on that conversation we had a couple of days ago about the lorry-watch operation.

It's funny you should say that, sir.

Is it?

Well, I had a fax from Records a couple of days before the operation.

Oh, yeah?

Querying the rental of a snack-bar caravan.

And you explained to them its legitimate use as an observation post on the truck route.

I'm afraid I did, sir, yes.

Yeah.

[soft music] [ball thudding] Just like old times, eh, Turkey?

You and me on the same side.

[car door closing] Come on.

Just say what you've got to say, Jim.

Come on.

Come and have a pop.

Maybe your luck'll change.

[Morton] Thought you might change your mind when you saw mine.

Thank you.

[Morton] Cutler was thrown out of the game for match-fixing.

Any mention of Mr. Flowerbridge?

Only on the sports pages.

Promising youngster, lost his form, hints of gambling debts.

He did play on the same team as Cutler for a season.

-Did he?

-Hm.

Took the ball on my knee, let it bounce, just once, saw the keeper off his line, and walloped it.

Read the game in an instant, really.

Watched the ball sail over the keeper's head.

35, 40-yarder.

Most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

[Gary] Yeah.

I remember it.

How was your food, Kirk?

Lovely, Sally.

Yeah, really tasty.

Just had enough, you know.

And now you're a copper.

Well, it's the pressure, basically, Gary.

When you're at the top like that.

At the top?

You drank your way out of a job.

Gary!

You chucked away your one chance at glory.

Now all's you've got left is a macho car you're never sober enough to drive.

Wait a minute.

How do you know how sober I am?

And you're gonna lose that job the same way.

Take it from one who knows.

No one's taken in by that orange juice.

I don't want you hanging around here anymore, Constable.

Tomorrow morning, first thing, you're going into training.

And since the opposition already know you're playing, I don't see any point keeping this secret from your own teammates.

And one more thing.

As long as you're under my roof, no more booze.

Gary, with me.

[somber music] No.

Hang on.

Takes one to know one.

We don't keep the orange juice there, Kirk.

Mr. Fisher's put me to quite a lot of trouble in connection with this game.

He seems convinced that you're gonna win it for him.

So, why did you stop playing?

You heard about the missed penalty?

No.

F.A.

Cup quarterfinals.

Went to a penalty shootout.

Came down to me.

I skied it over the crossbar.

Well, that's hard to bear, but aren't you supposed to take that sort of thing in your stride?

You are, yeah.

But with me, it just started crowding in and gave my confidence a big knock and it affected my game.

So I was substituted, kicking my heels, and I had more time to drink and more time to gamble and... Just lost my confidence, really.

People say to me you were very good.

I was, yeah.

I was good.

Well, you'll have a chance to prove it on Saturday.

I don't think I'll be taking it, sir.

Well, that's up to you.

But it's my job to see you go training.

I'll go training, but I won't be playing on Saturday.

Look, yesterday, I was in charge of an operation that was attempting to catch a gang of lorry thieves in the act along the Middleton Road.

It was pretty common knowledge that operation was undermanned.

And yet, strangely, out of nowhere, a whole battalion of Troubleshooter Security men emerged to help sort things out.

Now, given that Troubleshooter Security Company is presently employed in a pretty aggressive campaign of empire-building, I should imagine that publicity must have come in quite handy.

I imagine it did, yeah, sir.

Yeah, and of course, your mate Jim Cutler is employed by Troubleshooter, isn't he?

What, and you think I told him about your operation, do you?

What time's training?

Eight.

See you at seven.

[Henry sighing] [whistle blowing] [men shouting indistinctly] He doesn't seem to have gone completely to seed.

Somehow I don't think it's thoughts of glory with the Police XI that are driving him on.

Terry Lees.

Probably come to congratulate us for not losing his lorry.

Alfalfa.

Bean sprouts.

Tofu.

Tahini.

Three different kinds of pasta, and fresh tuna.

It's got some different recipe suggestions on there, too.

He's an alcoholic.

He won't touch the stuff.

You could always give him the benefit of the doubt.

You give him the benefit of the doubt.

Hey?

You think he'll eat it, you cook it.

There were 20-odd names on that list.

You don't think he was bluffing?

How did he know about me then?

Yeah.

Yes, on the face of it, looks like he's had access to police records.

You didn't sign the contract?

They start Saturday.

[men shouting indistinctly] [whistle blowing] It's only a practice!

All right!

What's he doing, trying to get his leg broken?

Yes, I know it will have the team's name on it.

I want to know if it'll have my name on it.

-[someone knocking] -Come.

I'll call you back.

What is it?

The Troubleshooters Security business.

There's been a development.

Sour grapes, Crabbe.

Paranoia.

I've told you.

Let it drop.

But I was talking to Terry Lees, the transport contractor.

You have a very simple, very important job at hand.

Make sure Flowerbridge plays a blinder tomorrow.

You can tell him from me it's play up or get out.

Right, sir.

Full pension, plus the wife's pension, plus a little nest egg that we've put by.

You know, I've been trying to retire myself for the past three years.

You've just got to go ahead and do it, sir.

I wish you'd tell A.C.C.

Fisher that.

I might just do that, sir.

You remember that fax you got the other day, you know, the one from Records querying that snack caravan?

Oh, yeah?

I don't suppose you've still got a copy of that, have you?

Filed it away in one of yesterday's big plastic bags.

No point in keeping them, is there, really, faxes.

Just curl up and die, fade away to nothing.

Was it signed?

Squiggle.

[Henry] And you replied?

Just "Re: Your fax of the," you know.

By fax again.

Mm.

Just when you thought you were gonna be able to put your feet up, eh?

Just leave it in the machine if you don't mind, sir.

I think I've just finished my service.

This is Kirk's office.

Right.

His desk's over there.

I'm trying to trace a fax that was sent from this office.

The person it was sent to no longer has his copy.

I think Kirk was the one who sent it.

[clearing throat] Kirk doesn't send many faxes.

Oh, right.

Well, it went to Charlie Reeves in the Local Information Office.

I don't suppose anybody keeps records of what faxes get sent out.

I don't suppose anybody does that anymore.

The machine does.

[machine beeping] It's called the journal.

[phone ringing] Plenty of food for thought there, Mr. Cutler.

Give me a day or two to chew it over.

Anything you want to recap, just give me a call.

Times are changing, Fowler.

Chap there reckons his outfit could relieve us of 40% of our operational duties.

Slim us down, leave us with what we're best at.

Cut away all the dead wood.

At every level.

Right.

You're A.C.C.

Ops, aren't you?

Yes, sir.

Cut you down to size, then, wouldn't it?

[ominous music] What have you got on this Troubleshooter crew?

Sure there aren't any sour grapes or paranoia on your part about all this, sir?

There's a place for this type of outfit, Crabbe, but not within the parameters of my operations.

My sentiments exactly.

If you hadn't let them capitalize on your lorry-watch fiasco, they'd never have come to the chief constable's attention.

We've been seriously undermanned because of all this football mania.

Forget the football, Crabbe.

I want dirt on this Troubleshooter bunch.

[Henry sighing] -Sir.

-Ah, Morton.

Look, would you recognize the fax number of the Records Office on that list?

You can tell by the code, can't you?

Yeah.

No, sir, it's not on this list.

-Are you sure?

-Yes, sir.

Um, is Charlie Reeves about?

Oh, of course.

[crowd conversing indistinctly] Here she comes!

[all cheering] Cheers, Inspector!

Cheers, Charlie.

All the best.

[somber music] I may have been a bit hasty in some of the things I said yesterday.

He's got something over you, hasn't he?

-Who?

-Jim Cutler.

Jim Cutler's got something over everybody.

Pesto a la Sally.

Signor.

Finished, Kirk?

Best meal I've had in ages.

Set you up for the game tomorrow, then.

Best get an early night, too.

[somber music] -[someone knocking] -Kirk.

Kirk, you've got- [phone ringing] We've got an early arrival here, sir.

And it's not just the atmosphere he's soaking up.

You think you can run away from things, but you can't.

Looks to me as though you're running towards it.

This?

I'm not talking about this.

Listen, it's pay or play as far as Mr. Fisher's concerned.

Either you can turn up for the team today and play, or you can pay for it by losing your job.

I'd have lost that sooner or later.

I wish you'd tell me what it is that Jim Cutler's holding over you.

You never know.

Maybe I could help.

[Henry sighing] I come across types like Cutler a lot.

It amazes me how they always manage to get people to toe the line.

It's 'cause they're not challenged.

People just roll over.

And because they roll over, someone like Cutler doesn't have to follow through with his threats.

Sometimes I wonder if there's any substance to them at all.

Well, I've got to go and cook breakfast.

If you've got any kind of appetite.

What is it about a big fry-up on a Saturday morning that makes you feel the whole world's full of promise?

Bacon smells good.

[Henry sighing] Can we have a large pot of coffee, please, Gary?

One day at a time, eh, mate?

[crowd conversing indistinctly] Sir.

Ah, Morton, job for you.

Kickoff's in 20 minutes, sir.

Couldn't have timed it better, could I?

Get in.

[crowd applauding] Don't ever try and get one past me, Turkey.

I've always got it covered.

What department did you require?

Actually, it's you we've come to see, Mr. Harris.

And you're in big trouble.

Yes!

It's okay.

[crowd groaning] Come on, Flowerbridge.

Get over there!

[whistle blowing] [crowd shouting] -[crowd cheering] -[whistle blowing] [Henry] You ever been in trouble with the police before, -Mr. Harris?

-No.

No, no, no.

What did you say, Mr. Harris, when you so helpfully cut us free from that tarpaulin?

I don't remember.

You said you were always happy to help the police.

Well, I am!

Good, good.

But how did you know we were police officers?

No idea?

Maybe I could suggest one.

[crowd shouting] Come on, now, Turkey.

Have a pop.

[whistle blowing] -[crowd cheering] -[whistle blowing] I think you'd better come down the station, Mr. Harris.

Look, look, it's all explainable.

I mean, it's not like... Well, it's just... Look, look.

Constable, you'd better call for backup.

It's not me.

We've just had a little bit of information here and there.

Little tip-offs.

Yes, well, we can see that.

A friend on the inside.

One who's just retired?

Thank you.

[whistle blowing] [crowd applauding] I want a word with you.

What have you been saying?

Get off!

I'm arresting you for bribery.

You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense.

If I go down, he goes down.

For God's sake, Crabbe.

You can't go harassing the opposition goalkeeper at halftime.

I can if he's been bribing Charlie Reeves, sir.

Bribing Reeves?

Has he?

Oh, yes, sir.

Can you make it stick?

I can if we get Reeves on our side, sir.

If he cooperates, he'll keep his pension.

Otherwise, I'll land the lot on him even if we don't get Cutler.

-Right.

-Crabbe, Crabbe.

Wait 'til after the game, hmm?

Lads, lads, come on.

Heads up.

We're only two-nil down.

We can still win this one.

[somber music] I'm arresting Charlie Reeves and Jim Cutler after the match.

Just thought you ought to know.

Of course, Cutler thinks you've been talking about him.

I could see that.

He wanted you to be his inside man, didn't he, now that Reeves is gone.

Apparently it's an offer I can't refuse, sir.

[Henry chuckling] What did he mean when he said he'd take you with him?

It's that missed penalty I told you about.

Cutler took a bribe to lose the match, except it ended in a draw, so it went to a penalty shootout.

So he let in every kick.

Problem was, the other keeper didn't do any better, so it came down to me.

Cutler said he'd give me 10 grand if I missed.

God knows how much he was on.

Well, there was no way I was gonna do that.

So he came across to the spot with me and said that he'd talk to the papers about my drinking and my gambling.

I said he could do what he liked.

So I placed the ball and boom.

You know what I did.

And after I watched the ball go over, I thought to myself, you know, "I might as well have it.

I've lost the match.

I might as well have the bloody money."

If you'd told me this- Biggest mistake I've ever made, Mr. Crabbe.

Now here he is again.

You know, try and make a go of it and he's here again.

He'll be under arrest very soon.

He's not the only one, is he?

You've got two minutes.

[whistle blowing] You're finished, Flowerbridge.

You never had what it took.

You never had the balls.

[men shouting indistinctly] [crowd cheering] Yes!

So, you had your suspicions about the Troubleshooters all along, then?

Well, I thought I'd let Crabbe do the legwork before I mentioned them to you.

Good work, Fisher.

Here he comes again.

-[crowd cheering] -[whistle blowing] [whistle blowing] You missed all the excitement, sir.

Oh, dear.

[Morton] There's only a minute left.

Uh-huh.

[all shouting] [whistle blowing] You all right, mate?

Come on.

You're on a hat trick.

We stick together, we can see this off.

Just put the ball on the spot, Jim.

[whistle blowing] [crowd cheering] [whistle blowing] Think you're better than me now, do you?

[Kirk groaning] You've got your handcuffs with you, Constable?

Good.

[police radio chattering] Think I'll still get to run my pub, sir?

I just don't know, Charlie.

Always been my dream.

Cutler heard me mouthing off about it, said he could help.

That's all right, Constable.

Mr. Flowerbridge can come with me.

He's got to pick some stuff up at my place.

[soft music] Did you get all your stuff?

It's a fair bit lighter than when I arrived.

I thought we could have something to eat before we went down to the nick.

Maybe you could knock me up a cake with a file in it.

It may not come to that, you know.

To be honest, Mr. Crabbe, I'm glad I've got it off my chest.

Make a clean go of it, you know.

Aye, aye, here's Mr. Tactful.

You've gotta be cruel to be kind.

Yeah, well, you enjoyed it anyway.

It was good to have the boot on the other foot for a change, yeah.

It's hat-trick soup.

[Kirk] Ooh.

Well, it's wild mushroom really, but it's the thought that counts.

We just wanted something we could serve in this, really.

We thought it looked like the F.A.

Cup.

Well, it's the closest I'll ever get to it.

Maybe you could go back to football.

I mean, it wouldn't be the first bad boy forgiven, would it?

That's true enough.

You'd have to lay off the orange juice, though.

I'll drink to that.

[glasses clinking] Cheers.

[mellow jazzy music]