The Avengers (1961) s04e26 Episode Script

1 [Explosion.]
[Gunshots.]
[Clock chimes.]
[Laughter.]
- You've had too much to drink.
- I'll make the coffee Excuse me.
Steed! Phone for a doctor.
Ronny? Mustn't let it leak out.
It's top security.
[Exhales.]
[Chuckles.]
I'm finished anyway.
No doctor.
Steed listen carefully.
G-George Reed and myself stumbled onto something big, important.
[Coughs.]
Dry.
My mouth's dry.
You and George stumbled onto something.
Ronny F-f-full story, full report, George's room.
- Evidence - Where is George? Dead.
George is dead.
Who did this, Ronny? Who was it? Genie.
Jeannie? Who was Jeannie? Who is she? H-h-honey.
Ronny Westcott, one of the best undercover men in the business.
Jeannie.
A woman called Jeannie.
A good-looking woman.
He said, "Honey.
" Ring Colonel Robertson, tell him what happened, arrange to have the body taken away.
Where will you be? He said there was a full report in George's room.
I'll collect it.
"George Reed.
" Mm-hm.
- And you say the other one got away? - Yes.
Pity.
Still, can't be helped.
The thing to do now is to cover all traces.
You go to his address.
See what you can find.
Right! And Vincent whatever you find, destroy.
[Front door shuts.]
[Sniffs.]
[Glass shattering.]
Well, I never! - Morning.
- Good morning.
Registered package.
Sign here, please.
There we are.
So you left him there? That was foolish, Vincent.
Very foolish.
But I destroyed the files, Mr Arkadi.
I made sure of that.
Nevertheless, there may be a general hue and cry.
You must continue to cover all traces.
The honey shop.
Take Bernie with you.
Yes, Mr Arkadi.
[Shop bell rings.]
Good morning! Good morning, dear lady! Oh, forgive me, I've just been attending to my little charges.
Buzzing around the hive, so to speak.
- Exhausting work.
- But rewarding.
Rewarding.
Bumble.
B.
Bumble at your service.
Yes, most rewarding.
Treat my bees like children, you know.
Happy bees make bumper honey.
Yes, like children.
One of them has a bad knee at the moment.
I may have to operate.
- Well, then, dear lady - I'd like to send some honey to a friend.
- You can arrange that? - Indeed, I can.
Bumble's honey encircles the globe.
Nectar in Nyasaland, syrup in Sweden, honey in the Himalayas.
You just give me the address and I'll dispatch post haste.
- How much did you wish to send? - Just a jar or two.
Which kind? Our six-legged friends are very versatile.
I have 365 different kinds of honey.
Just imagine, breakfast toast for a whole year and never the same flavour twice.
- Except in a leap year.
- Oh, quite so.
Quite so.
I thought this one would be rather nice.
Ah, yes.
Strength three.
Pure syrup without wax.
Two jars you said? Won't keep you a moment, gentlemen.
Now, if you'll put the address on these labels It was sent by a friend, Mr George Reed.
Remember him? Reed? Reed We get so many customers.
It was sent the day before yesterday.
The postmark was on the package.
Ah, in that case, I wouldn't remember and you, dear lady, must be mistaken.
The day before yesterday I was at the Barabian Embassy making a personal delivery of my delicious honey.
And this shop was shut.
Will that be all? Yes.
Thank you.
I'll invoice this and dispatch it right away.
Well, now gentlemen, what can I do for you? You can just keep quiet.
Follow the girl, Bernie.
You know what to do.
Behind the counter.
Come on.
Come along.
[Phone rings.]
[Man.]
'Hello? Hello?' Hello? 'Is that Mr Reed? Mr George Reed?' Er, speaking.
Who is this? We haven't actually met, but I am Ponsonby Hopkirk of the QQF.
Oh, yes! 'You made an appointment to see me at the QQF this morning.
' Well, wonder if you'd mind making it a bit later.
Say, 12 o'clock? - 'That be all right?' - Yes, perfectly.
'Good.
See you later then.
' Mr Hopkirk, it's extremely silly of me, but I seem to have forgotten the address.
Beaver Street, Mr Reed.
'10, Beaver Street.
' How do you do? I'm looking for Mr Hopkirk, Mr Ponsonby Hopkirk of the QQF.
Je vous en prie, monsieur.
Pardon, mon general.
Mon brave general.
Je cherche Monsieur Hopkirk.
- Ah-ha! Mr Reed, isn't it? George Reed.
- Yes.
Hopkirk.
Ponsonby Hopkirk.
Welcome to the QQF.
Doubly welcome.
Sorry, but I'm afraid I'm not ready for you yet.
A little contretemps behind the scenes.
Not in any great hurry, are you? You'll wait? Splendid! Do take off your coat.
Ah-ha! Dinner jacket! I detect a suppressed desire.
Want to be a band leader, perhaps? Or break the bank at Monte Carlo.
We'll see, we'll see.
Would you like tea, coffee? A drink, perhaps? - A drink would be - Right away, right away.
I won't keep you long, Napoleon.
Wellington's just getting his boots on.
[Explosion.]
Well, what do you think of my little genie? - Jeannie? - Of the lamp.
Service with a smile, eh? Er, yes.
Thank you.
All fixed up, then? Mind if I leave you to it? Capital.
Excellent.
If you need anything else, just rub.
Live up to our name, eh? QQF.
- Er, quite.
- Quite, Quite Fantastic.
Now, if you'll just excuse me, I have to go and climb the Matterhorn.
This woman at the honey shop, what was her name? Don't know, but she was talking about Reed.
- Bernie's following her? - Mm.
That was right, wasn't it? Perfectly right, my dear Vincent.
- He knows what to do, of course? - Oh, yes, Mr Arkadi.
He knows what to do.
[Doorbell rings.]
[Gunshot.]
[Gunshot.]
[Hopkirk.]
Goodbye! Goodbye! We'll climb Everest next week.
Now then, gentlemen Napoleon, everything's ready for you.
Waterloo room, end of the corridor.
Mr Prentice, what was it for you today? Indian wars? A stagecoach ride? Of course, Gunfight at the OK Corral.
Third door on the right.
You'll find them all ready and waiting to ambush you.
Mr Reed, sorry you've been kept waiting, but now you have my undivided attention.
So tell me, what can the QQF do for you? I should like to know a little more about it.
You haven't received our advertising literature? Oh, dear.
How remiss of me.
The QQF, the Quite, Quite Fantastic Incorporated, can help you quite simply to satisfy your most repressed desires.
In a nutshell, Mr Reed, we will create your fantasies and let you live them.
- Tea and honeyed muffins? - Honeyed? - Jam or treacle? - No, thank you.
It all began with the Arabian Nights the QQF.
Yes, as a boy, I was fascinated by the tales of the Arabian Nights.
I would dream of living in an exotic era.
Then one day I thought, "Why dream? Why not make my dreams a reality?" After that it was easy.
A matter of the decor, the right atmosphere, a few tricks.
This, for example.
Rubbing it sets up an electronic impulse that rings a bell in the cellar.
My little genie pops up through a trap door in the floor.
Just a theatrical trick, but a very effective one, don't you think? Very.
Then I began to think of the commercial possibilities.
Creating other people's dreams and fantasies and so the QQF was born.
Within these portals, Mr Reed, you can stand beside Nelson at Trafalgar, fight with General Custer, become Genghis Khan, a Roman emperor, heavyweight champion, ruler of the world! A million dreams made to order! Fantasies created with a few simple tricks such as you have already seen.
[Door opens.]
Don't worry, old man.
Better luck next time.
Now, Mr Reed, your own fantasy.
Might I suggest an intrepid trapper or a cavalryman at Balaclava riding into the Valley of Death? Well, I thought that I might Got it.
You're a secret agent.
Yes, indeed.
Ideal for you.
A licence to kill, pitting your wits against a diabolical mastermind.
Make a change from your everyday humdrum existence.
Yes, certainly make a change.
But no doubt you have a fantasy of your own.
- I'd like the same as Ronny Westcott.
- Hm? Ronald Westcott.
He is a client of yours? Mr Westcott Here just the other day.
Haven't heard from him since.
Unavoidably detained, but whatever you've fixed up for him, fine for me.
- I would hardly think that - You did create a fantasy for him? I was working on it, yes, but I wouldn't have thought it was you.
Oh, no, no! Whatever's good enough for Ronny is good enough for me.
Very well.
I'll let you know when it's arranged.
Fine.
What is it to be? The fantasy? What am I to be? Chief eunuch in a harem.
Colonel Robertson? Steed here.
Did Mrs Peel call and tell you about the body in my apartment? She did? Well, will you have it removed right away, please? It's very untidy.
You already have? Hold on, Colonel.
I'm most terribly sorry, Colonel.
It's another body entirely.
Yes, a different one.
I'm not responsible for what happens in my apartment when I'm not in it! Of course I'm not trying to corner the market! And furthermore [Colonel hangs up.]
[Sighs.]
[Peel.]
'Steed, sorry about the body, 'but he was too big to sweep under the carpet.
'Nothing on him to identify him, 'but I saw him earlier today at B.
Bumble & Co.
'That's a honey shop by the way.
'I'll tell you all about it later.
Must buzz back to Bumble's.
'Message ends.
' [Shop bell rings.]
Mr Bumble Mr Bumble! Hey! Well, Vincent? What has happened to Bernie? He should've reported back by now.
He ought to have dropped "He should"? "He ought"? Been better if you had attended to the girl yourself.
We shall give him one hour.
No more.
Then we must presume the worst and act accordingly.
The QQF? - You're due there soon, aren't you? - Mm-hm.
Well, hurry up, my dear Vincent.
You mustn't miss your third fantasy, must you? Well, Mrs Peel, I've given you a general outline of the service I offer.
What can I add? My readers would be interested in more specific cases.
Hm Hm.
This interest from the press is most gratifying.
Most specific cases Well, I suppose my most fantasy to date was the sinking the Titanic.
Several of my staff people had to be resuscitated afterwards.
Then there was Hannibal crossing the Alps, an assassination [Coughs.]
- Riding a Derby winner.
- An assassination? Yes, had several of those.
Very difficult to set up.
How do you go about an assassination? Hm first, we allow our client to select his victim, a real person, a VIP perhaps or an eminent businessman.
Then we provide our client with this, and get him in a position to use it.
We allow him to actually get his victim into his sights and then Then? [Trigger clicks.]
He has a fine photograph to commemorate the occasion.
Camera gun.
Helps him to get something out of his system and nobody gets hurt.
I see.
Now, Mr Hopkirk, if I could know a bit more about your clients - Clients? - Vincent East, for example.
He is a client of yours? Mrs Peel, I'm afraid I'm unable to discuss individuals, ethics of my business, my lips are sealed.
- But surely - I must insist.
- Well, thank you anyway.
- Not at all, Mrs Peel.
And if ever you should wish to join the QQF A fantasy, perhaps? No, thank you, I haven't yet exhausted reality.
Pity.
Hello.
Ah, Mr Vincent! Ready for your third fantasy? In a nice murderous mood, are we? Telephone.
QQF? May I speak to Mr East, please? Vincent, bad news.
Bernie has not returned.
Well, of course I know what that means! You'll have to kill Hopkirk.
- You know what? - What? - We're getting nowhere fast.
- There's the honey.
There has to be a link.
Why would Reed have sent it to you? Because I don't know.
One thing is certain, Reed and Westcott weren't killed for a jar of honey.
- Then there's QQF.
- Quite, Quite Fantastic.
That's turned out to be a dead end.
So what was Ronny doing there? - I can understand the harem bit, but - Harem? That was part of the fantasy Ronny ordered.
Harem And Bumble said something about the Barabian Embassy.
He made a delivery there.
Barabian Embassy, harem, two agents killed.
[Both.]
Snap! [Peel.]
Hopkirk sometimes dreams up an assassination.
[Hopkirk.]
Now let's rehearse it again.
I am the Crown Prince Ali and you, his murderer, are concealed say here.
I am perhaps enjoying a quiet smoke.
You have not revealed yourself yet.
The moment of surprise has yet to come.
You hold your gun at the ready.
The gun, Vincent.
The gun.
Now then you'll choose your moment well.
And then up you pop! No, no, man.
You're not putting enough into it.
You won't get any satisfaction out of your fantasy unless you put something into it.
Think! Think murderously! Your expression, your whole attitude is too bland, too unconvincing.
You wouldn't frighten a fly off a wall.
Get a firm grip on your gun.
Higher.
Point it at me! Here! No, that's not very good.
You won't get anywhere unless you concentrate.
Fix me with your eye and think to yourself, "I am going to kill him.
"I am going to kill him!" Much better! Much more [Gunshot.]
realistic.
[Chuckles.]
Fantastic.
Quite, Quite Fantastic.
Hopkirk, you've arranged another fantasy, haven't you? One too many, I'm afraid.
I mean the assassination of Prince Ali.
When's it to take place? - Tonight.
- How? Too late.
Splendid.
Quite splendidly detailed.
No doubt if we follow these instructions, you'll be able to penetrate the security of the Barabian Embassy and then our task is over.
Hopkirk certainly knows his business.
Knew his business.
As you say, my dear Vincent.
As you say.
Go to the Prince and tell him there's to be an attempt on his life tomorrow.
We can't possibly do that.
You know why he's here? To sign over oil concessions in our favour.
In return for which, we give his country full military protection.
Well? He won't have confidence in our military if we can't even protect him.
One man in our own country? I wonder what weapon the assassin will use? A gun, knife, rope Poison? I was thinking of the honey.
It's important somehow.
Well, he'd have to be within tasting distance to do that.
Prince Ali won't step outside the embassy once he's arrived.
So the killer has to get smuggled in or be there.
But he has to be in the embassy somehow.
And so do I.
I pray pardon for this intrusion, Your Majesty.
[Prince Ali.]
What is it, Grand Vizier? An effendi from the British Government, O High and Most Gracious one.
He begs to be admitted to your most illustrious presence.
Is he to be trusted? His credentials have been checked once, twice and thrice times over, O High and Mighty one.
His person has been searched for offensive weapons.
I, who am a mere speck on the camel's back, a poor, lowly, ignorant toad in your most all-seeing eyes, think he can be trusted.
Let him be admitted.
At once, pearl of all wisdom, with all speed.
Enter with head lowered.
Do not speak until His Royal Highness has addressed you.
Effendi Steed, Your Royal Highness.
[Gong strikes.]
Hat off! Head lowered.
What is your business, Mr Steed? A social call, Your Majesty.
I'm with the Ministry of of Eastern affairs.
We merely wish to ensure that you are enjoying your stay in this country.
We thank you.
You may gaze upon the royal and most noble features.
On behalf of my peoples in my country, I, Ali Mortashan Gubran, Crown Prince of Barabia, defender of the faith, soother of all souls, lighter of dark corners, fountain of wisdom, welcome thee.
Vizier? - I say, do you play cricket? - Yes, I do, but - Bowler or batsman? - A bit of an all-rounder.
Jolly good.
Keep an eye out for the vizier.
Come on! At the double! Mr Steed.
Now Henry, mid-on.
Herbert, short leg.
Flory, first slip.
Ethel, second slip.
Field all right for you, Mr Steed? Thank you, Your Majesty, but I'd prefer Flory at silly mid-on.
Right.
- What'll it be? - Little in leg.
That's just about right.
Thank you, Flory.
Come on, old boy.
Keep 'em coming.
That's a royal command! That's right, my dear.
Keep me cool.
I enjoy the ultraviolet, but not the heat.
Just here and here.
Oh splendid! Quite splendid.
- I'm ready to go.
- Nothing overlooked? No.
Except the payoff.
Hm.
Half now.
Half when the job is finished.
Those were the agreed terms.
Yes.
But when you said half, I expected I thought We must trust one another, my dear Vincent.
We really must.
And take your time about it.
A sure aim.
And one nice, big bang.
[Tuts.]
Well, I think a break for tea is clearly indicated.
- Would you like some tea, Mr Steed? - Thank you.
You summoned me, O Great and High One? I did.
Tea for myself and my guests, Vizier.
Instantly, Your Royal Highness.
Well, that is service.
Oh, we don't stand for any laxness, you know.
If any of them gets idle, we chop off a few of their toes.
Gingers them up no end.
They're a couple of my wives.
That's number four.
Ah, number 33.
Charming girl.
Cost me a bag of salt and four goats.
I've got lots more out the back.
- Goats? - Wives.
Got to have a lot of them.
A matter of status, you see.
- What was it at the last count? - 320, Your Royal Highness.
Ah, I can see your European eyes flashing at the prospect.
But have you ever paused to consider that a man with 320 wives also acquires 320 mothers-in-law? - That's a very sobering thought.
- Very.
Now then, I'll have one of those and, ah, yes, one of those.
Yes, Your Royal Highness.
No discomfort? No, Your Royal Highness.
Not even the slightest twinge? - No, Your Royal Highness.
- He tastes everything before me.
There's always someone trying to pop me off.
Got to be careful.
You, Mr Steed? What'll you have? Well, you don't seem to have any honey.
Honey? Personally, I loathe the stuff.
- But if that's what you want - Please don't bother.
This is fine.
So you don't take to it, honey? Never touch the stuff.
Far too sweet for my taste.
But my wives love it.
I've had to order loads of the stuff while I'm here.
- From B.
Bumble & Company? - That's right.
40 jars of the stuff.
Another three truckloads this afternoon.
Three trucks for 40 jars this size? It wasn't that size, old boy.
More that size.
40 man-size jars.
- Man-size? May I see them? - They're all out there.
Oh, well, in that case, I'm sure Your Majesty won't mind That's quite impossible, Mr Steed.
You can't go in there.
No man can except me.
You see, that is my harem.
It suits you.
Brings out the colour of your eyes.
No! But Mrs Peel, only a woman has a chance of getting into a harem.
I absolutely refuse.
But the assassin will be there, I'm sure of it, hidden in a honey jar.
No, Steed.
Well, if Prince Ali gets murdered, you'll have to go through life thinking, "If only I'd helped, a human life" "Would've been saved.
" Tell me the worst.
The Prince has invited me to dinner tonight.
- And you're taking a guest along? - Well, not a guest exactly.
Tell me, Mrs Peel, what size do you take in Turkish trousers? To the last lace hole.
[Inhales.]
Try now! [Exhales.]
Ah, that's better.
Much better.
Haha! I'm afraid I won't be able to smuggle that in.
The search is too rigorous.
It should be quite a night Quite a night.
For you, because you're my friend and have found favour in my eyes.
Thank you.
It is the left eye of a mountain rat.
A very rare delicacy.
I also have a gift for you.
'Scott Gordon is at the wicket, surveying the field with that marvellous eye of his.
'Fiennes-Barnes bowls, Scott plays a terrific hook.
'And it's gone for six! A six! 'Oh, no he's caught at the boundary.
He's out! Scott's out for a duck!' - Oh - Full commentary of the last test match.
That is kind.
Most kind! We are pleased to accept.
It's a twin track.
Press the other side and you get this.
[ Arabic music playing.]
Oh, that is charming! Makes me quite homesick.
Now quite apart from that, we have some entertainment.
Your Highness, may I present my compliments? Arkadi, nice to see you again.
It was most gracious of you to invite me, sir.
I trust Your Highness is in excellent health.
Indeed.
Do sit down.
Mr Steed, may I present Mr Arkadi? He's a rival of yours, Arkadi.
Mr Steed is with the British Government.
Oh, congratulations.
You beat us to it.
- Oh? - The oil concessions.
My government hoped to obtain them in exchange for our military protection.
Mr Steed was about to arrange some entertainment for us.
So I was.
Your Majesty, with your permission, may I present the lustrous, luminous, star of the East, Emma? [Gong strikes.]
[ Arabic music playing.]
Merhaba, merhaba.
Six veils.
I counted only six.
There's one to go.
She was poorly educated, Your Majesty.
Alas, she cannot count.
- I would speak with this woman.
- Certainly, Your Majesty.
What's your party term? "Giselle"? Shh! We don't want to offend the effendi.
Your Majesty, Emma.
[Speaks Arabic.]
Here, woman.
Sit here.
Excuse me.
[Slurps.]
A shy one.
But not much You say? Retarded, Your Majesty.
Definitely what you'd call retarded.
[Gurgles.]
Nevertheless I offer 12 goats.
Well, it's a great deal for just a woman.
[Slurps.]
But I've taken a fancy to her.
Yes Yes, I will buy her from you.
But Your Majesty, I couldn't possibly It seems, Your Majesty, that the British have no respect for your wishes.
If it were my government Your Majesty, I couldn't possibly accept, well, any goats for her.
Well, not the even the tiniest nanny.
If you like her, you take her.
She's yours.
I give her to you.
You can put her into your harem any time you like.
[Slurps.]
It is agreed, then.
[Coughs.]
Go with him, woman.
I shall be along later.
Your Majesty, tell me more about your camels.
I fear we are detaining His Majesty.
His Majesty is anxious to retire.
- Yes, I - But the evening is young! And so entertaining.
But another entertainment awaits His Majesty.
Hm? Your Majesty, did I tell you about a cricket match I played in Rawalpindi? [Yawns.]
I am rather tired.
- I fear you were right, Arkadi.
- In that case, I'll I think I'll cut along now.
- But Your Majesty, I was going to - No need for you to rush off.
Stay on and enjoy yourselves.
But Your Majesty Excuse me.
Emma? Emma? Little Star of the East? This is Saturday.
Your prince is here, Emma.
Emma Emma! My patience is running thin, Emma! Show yourself, woman! Emma! [Pots shattering.]
The Prince is renowned for his ardour.
[Grunting.]
Get back, woman! It's a man! None must look! No no, it was Arkadi's idea.
Not me.
Arkadi's the man you want.
- Where's Arkadi? - Gone.
- Well? - Don't worry.
I know where to find him.
My friend, I don't know what it's all about, but clearly you've saved my life.
Anything I have is yours, my horses, my jewels, my favourite wife.
Steed I'll throw in a goat or two, as well.
Well done.
[Banging.]
Steed? [Banging.]
It's quite nice.
Though I think I prefer the old automobile.
Ah, the dear old girl, but I can never resist a bargain.
They threw in two-dozen goats, as well.
- Nannies, of course.
- Of course.
And it has extra advantages.
It's very quiet, easy to run, floats way above the traffic jams.
Just one thing, though.
Brakes? How do you stop it? That's a very good question.