On the Beat Page #2

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Oberon prepare. Giulio, he create!

- l have only one pair of hands, Giulio.

- Shut your mouth.

Let's get down to business.

Well, George, what-a we find?

This one sounds the best bet.

Number five.

- Number five? The countess?

- Yeah.

(Woman) 'What are you wearing

to Rigoletto tonight?'

(Second woman) 'Everything, my dear.

Tiara, pendant, diamonds, the lot.

'Charles is taking them

out of the safe deposit this afternoon.'

This could be

what we've been waiting for.

Tell the boys, this afternoon.

- Where is the girl?

- ln the office.

Hm... OK.

Not-a bad. Not-a bad.

She's pretty good, huh?

Her father sent this with her.

You read it.

Vattene!

''Carissimo Giulio,

this is my daughter Rosanna.

''The union of our families will bring to

an end much unnecessary bloodshed,

''and cement agreement that

you will operate unmolested in London,

''leaving my organisation

to operate in Sicily.''

lt's signed Enrico Guardia.

She's a good bargain. Better than l think.

l very happy.

Vattene ti dico!

You don't like-a me...but your father,

he say you must marry me.

Marry you?

Piuttosto mi ammazzerei.

Siete un porco!

Un cane. Una bestia feroce che certo

finir in galera.

l'd rather die!

That can be arranged, too.

lf you want, boss.

No, no, no, no, no.

Sono l'uomo d'onore!

Giulio stick to his bargain.

lt's good for business.

Take her upstairs.

Mama, she tell her

what a nice boy her Giulio is.

Piccolo verme!

Don't worry, Giulio. She really loves you.

That's love. She really loves me.

- Oi!

- Sorry.

Ah-ah!

- lsn't my car ready, Pitkin?

- lt won't be long, sir.

l wanted it for lunch.

Erm... lt wouldn't half

give you indigestion, sir!

Try turning on the water.

Oh... Cor...

No, no, no! Come back.

Turn it on at the nozzle.

Now, don't start larking about.

You're asking for it, ain't you?

- You little...

- No, no!

l'll never get your car done, Mr Ackroyd.

- Where are you?

- Here!

Are you going to give in?

You'll get yourself soaked.

You'll get soaking wet.

- Good heavens, sir! What's happened?

- That lunatic!

Get out. Get out of here!

GET OUT!

You've got my leather.

(Crash)

You're fired!

Hey!

Now what have l done?

One...two chamois leathers, one pail...

one spoke brush.

One cap, peaked, car park attendant,

for the use of.

All correct. And now, Pitkin, get out.

Pitkin!

Mr Bollington, l'd like your permission

to have another go at joining the police.

- Not here.

- lf you'll put in a word for me...

Pitkin, if you were six feet tall, 20 stone,

and were world weightlifting champion,

l still wouldn't put in a word for you.

You're not cut out to be a policeman.

You haven't got it here

and you haven't got it here.

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