Ah, damn.
Halt!
Mr Kenneth McIver, I presume?
That's right. Who are you?
Torquil Farquar McFarquar.
International capitalist and at your service. Cigar, sir?
Ashtray, please?
You're not smoking, Mr McIver. That is a Havana.
- Thank you. - It's not the cigar, Mr McFarquar.
Ah, you're confused by all this.
- Yes, I am. - It's very straightforward.
Ava has put the Commandante into a very deep hypnotic trance.
- He let us in, he'll let us out again. - A hypnotic trance?
Ava, Miss Grimm, had a very successful stage act
before she and I became lovers.
But I digress.
Let's talk about you. How long you in for?
- Sorry?
130 years. Less time off for good behaviour.
Ah. You're clearly not a man that's enjoyed the best of luck, Mr McIver.
We all have the odd downturn in fortune.
- Of course we do. - My brother...
All I ever wanted to do was prove that I was better than him
and the way to do it was clearly by material success and quickly.
So I left home with the intentions of becoming a cat burglar
in the playgrounds of the rich and famous.
I read up on safes and, in theory, there wasn't a safe I couldn't open.
But I never gave a moment's thought to dogs.
Dogs?
In the first house I ever burgled, there were these big dogs.
When the surgeons took my leg off, I knew I could never be a cat burglar,
so I spent my time in prison reading up on explosives.
During my next spell in prison I did some thinking
and decided a change in scenery might bring a change in fortune.
Not that I'm unlucky.
- No. - So I came to South America.
I came across this bank.
Well, I cased it and I cased it until I found a way in -
through the air-conditioning system.
The emergency services got me out through the floor of the house above.
When no one answered the door, they broke it in.
But the owner was at home.
The owner was the president and he'd been using the house as a love-nest.
When the story got out, the government fell.
But 130 years, Mr McIver?
My trial judge was the ex-president's brother.
Ah. And, um?
I got that here in the exercise yard.
- A knife fight? - No.
I got a piece of grit in my eye and tried to rub it away.
Oh, the sort of thing that can happen to anyone - with a hook.
I prefer to call it an artificial hand.
Now... Can I ask why you're here?
As I said, Mr McIver, I'm an international capitalist.
But despite my great wealth, I'm as much a prisoner as you are.
Only while you are locked in... I'm locked out.
- Out of where? - Out of Scotland, Mr McIver.
Out of my native land, a land I love as much as life itself.
You see, when I was a lad,
I too was desperate to get that first foothold on the ladder of success
and I did so by embezzling a few million pounds
from the financial institution I worked for.
But I left clues - damning evidence -
and there's been a warrant out for my arrest ever since.
I've managed to compensate for the loss of my homeland.
- How? - By buying things. Things Scottish.
Now, a few days ago,
I had myself a shoe-shine in the capital city of this country
and the shoe-shine boy - one Pepe Gonzales -
spotted me for a Scotsman.
And he told me how there was a fellow countryman of mine in prison -
one Kenneth McIver.
I remember Gonzales.
And do you remember the story you told him?
Of how the Stone of Destiny itself
is hidden near your native village of Lochdubh?
I told Pepe that story.
Could it possibly be true, Mr McIver?
The coronation stone of the old Scottish kings,
the Lia Fáil,
the Stone of Scone, the Stone of Destiny, Mr McIver.
Could it possibly be true?
As true as you and I are standing here, Mr McFarquar.
For half a million pounds - 50 grand up front and the rest on delivery -
could you get me the Stone of Destiny, Mr McIver?
Half a million, Kenneth McIver.
And you get to walk out of here now.
A free man.
Five people share the knowledge of the stone's whereabouts.
Each one was given a line of verse - a clue to the location.
But not me.
I was never told. Oh, no, I was never good enough.
But I can lead you to them. I was there.
I saw it all.
Viva Scotia. Viva.
Sons... and daughter...
Beneath that cloth is a most precious part of your country's regalia.
It was torn from Scotland,
stolen from our blessed soil by the English in 1296,
but brought back here by we five a few years ago.
On with it, Colonel. You're frightening them.
McCrae's right. This is the Stone of Destiny, children.
We brought it back during the war and buried it
till we could decide what to do with it.
- And after much debate... - We've decided on its resting place.
And we all agree that you, our children,
should share the secret of the stone's location.
John McIver.
Lachlan McCrae.
Peregrine Roderick Maclean.
Rory St Campbell
And Anne.
Now commit to memory what you find in your envelope
and never ever, ever, ever...
discuss the contents amongst yourselves or with any other person.
Only when the time is right can the location of the stone be revealed.
Only when Scotland becomes a nation once again. Only then...
Colonel? Maybe they would like to see what they're protecting first.
Is there to be no solemnity here?
Hi, John.
- What are you doing? - I'm just having a bit of a clear-out.
I see.
So where you been the last few days? People are worried about you.
I've been out walking mainly.
What's wrong?
These are things I'd like you to have, Hamish.
There's more for you to give to those concerned when the time comes.
Time?
I'm not with you, John.
I'm going to die soon.
I've felt it for a few days now.
Och... die?
- You been to see Doc Brown? - No. No doctors.
I just feel I'm near the end of my time.
No, I'm sorry. I'm not listening to this. I don't need this.
- Hamish. - Nobody can know that. Nobody.
- I don't want any of this. - Hamish...
I want you back there tomorrow, doing the things that you've always done
and I want no more talk about dying.
Well, of course I'll come in, but it'll make no difference.
What did I just say?
- I'll try not to mention it. - Good.
Very good.
- I'll see you in The Stag, then? - Aye. Right.
- Maybe even cook you dinner. - Dinner?
Aye.
- OK? - Hamish.
It's all psychological, isn't it?
We were all talking about curses and witch doctors in school
and the teacher said you could only die from a curse if you believed in it.
I don't know, Frankie.
I love John McIver like my own,
but if he says he's going to die, he is going to die.
But TV John's steeped in the paranormal
and if we can help him forget about that, then we've solved the problem.
You just get on up that hill and leave the problem solving to us.
- Caster sugar. The finishing touch. - Caster sugar. OK.
- Plum duff on the way then? - Aye.
John McIver loves his plum duff.
Can we not get one off the peg?
It's just not the same, Hamish.
Of course not. Just the thought of all those additives gives me the willies.
- Rory. Are you coming in? - Right away, dearest.
It's all to do with belief systems. What John believes in is the problem.
- He could believe himself to death? - Oh, yes.
What I don't understand is if he's going to die,
- why hasn't he been to see me? - Lachie Junior.
It's never too early to plan for that final journey.
The man himself.
Hello, John!
- Evening, John. - Evening.
Good evening, John.
- Esme. - John, care to join us?
Agnes has been too generous with the coq au vin.
Oh, another time perhaps, Rory.
I'm having dinner with Hamish tonight. God help us.
Missing you already.
Missing you already?
It's an Americanism, dear.
It's like, um, have a nice day.
It has unfortunate connotations, Rory.
Tell me, what do you use those things for, Lachie Junior?
These are for reaching the places other forceps can't, Barney.
Good evening, John.
What can I get for ye?
- Just the usual, Agnes. - The usual?
John McIver, you're a friend as well as a valued customer...
and in recognition of that fact,
Barney and I have decided
that you can have any drink you want. And for free
In fact, we've decided
that you'll never have to pay for another drink in this bar.
Well, that's very generous of you both.
I think I'll have a nip of something around 12 years old.
Just you stay where you are.
These instruments have barely changed since ancient times.
Since the Egyptians discovered mummification techniques.
Mummification? You surely don't?
No, no. There's no demand. I could if I was asked, mind.
It's just a case of knowing which bits to suck out and what to pump in.
Fascinating.
- What's that for? - This is for the pumping in.
Or, if we put it in the reverse, the sucking out.
Fascinating.
- What do you say, John? - Oh, fascinating.
Mind you, you do get your "difficult" corpses.
- "Difficult corpses"? - Oh, yes.
Tall men are especially problematic.
Take a man like TV John here.
There's no coffin to fit a man that tall.
Tall men are torture.
What do you do in the circumstances?
That's when the old rigor mortis comes in nice and handy, Agnes.
You see, the limbs become nice and brittle, easy to break.
- Break? - Just the legs.
Then you tuck them up under the deceased,
pin a shroud to the bottom of the coffin and anybody looking is none the wiser.
In the trade, it's known as the "Toulouse-Lautrec method".
Sounds a bit dire, does it not?
How do you actually break the legs?
There are many methods, Agnes,
but I prefer this myself.
Excuse me.
I think you've hit the spot.
I see Hamish has been talking then.
The man's worried sick. Would you expect him to be any other way?
No.
So you're quite sure about this then?
- Oh, I'm sure. - Do you know when?
Not exactly, but there'll be this smell - you know, the pomade.
Pomade?
Can I say three things while there's still time, John?
Of course you can.
First... I'm going to miss you, John.
And, second, when you get where it is you're going...
...if you should happen to bump into my Mari,
tell her I still love her
and tell her that the boy has turned out well.
And the third thing?
You're not forgetting you've got some information to pass on before you go?
How could I forget that?
I've decided to tell Hamish.
I thought he might be the one.
Please. Let me take care of the luggage.
- You go on inside. - They don't make things like they did.
- If you say so. - Well, they don't.
As for that locker on the plane, how was I to know my duty-free would fly out?
It'll clear up. I'm not concerned. Please just go inside.
Tastes excellent. Thanks, Hamish.
Plum duff's always been my favourite.
It's no problem.
I've been telling myself I need to get more experience in the kitchen.
Be a bit more varied in my approach.
That's no bad thing for a man that's going to be on his own.
Och, John.
Oh, no, I wasn't on about that.
I was talking in general.
No woman in your life, I mean.
Yeah.
It's my one great regret - never having married.
You take it from me, you should grasp that nettle.
- What? - You and Isobel, man.
The world can see that all that's needed
is for one of you to take the initiative.
- Aye, maybe. - There's no "maybe" about it.
- Incidentally, I've a favour to ask. - Yeah. Anything.
I fancy a bit of hill-walking. Will you come with me?
Aye. Sounds fine to me.
Oh, good.
Go on with you. Get back in.
Good morning.
- Good morning. - Have you lost something?
My pendant.
Ah, there it is.
It was my mother's and I'd hate to lose it.
- May I?
- It looks very beautiful. - Yes. I think so too.
Sometimes, when I'm tense...
...I find it helps me to relax if I just sit and look at it sparkling.
Sometimes it's simply so soothing,
I just drift off into the deepest of sleeps.
You can ask as many questions as you like.
A fax from Miss Grimm, sir.
What does it say?
"And the young go to bask in the sun."
"And the young go to bask in the sun"?
- Let's try a piece to camera from here. - Right.
- OK? - Just a second.
- Ready? - Yeah. Ready.
Hold that.
Ah, there we are. It's just a matter of patience.
- It's a fine display, Rory. - It's eye-catching.
Thank you, men. In total, that took me one hour and 20 minutes to achieve.
One hour and 20 minutes...
Well, well, well.
The gang's all here.
- Kenneth? - The very same, brother.
This is Miss Ava Grimm, my business associate.
Ava, this is my brother John and Rory Campbell and Lachlan McCrae...
- I don't know who the brat is. - Brat?
- Quiet, Frankie. - Kenneth...
Well, it's very nice to see you again, Kenneth.
What's left o' him.
He's been on the wrong end of spare-parts surgery.
Frankie. Nice to see you again, Kenneth.
- Kenneth... - You've already said that, brother.
Kenneth...
Let's have no displays of phoney affection.
Phoney?
- It's been 35 years, man. - Has it? I hadn't noticed.
But I wouldn't, would I? Not being as busy as I was.
Busy becoming the success I always said I would be.
Miss Grimm and I are staying at the Lodge.
I would be grateful if you could provide us with supplies for two days.
You can keep the change.
This article can't be your brother, TV John.
TV?
He was the first man in Lochdubh with a set.
That's your claim to fame, is it?
The first man in the village to have a television set.
Oh, I think that is pretty pathetic. Don't you think so, Miss Grimm?
I have no view on the matter.
No? Oh, I think it speaks volumes about this insignificant scarecrow.
And all the hicks that inhabit this place.
Is it any wonder that a man like myself had to leave?
Only a lobotomy could have kept me here.
Well, you were always a smart one, right enough, Kenneth.
- Remember, Rory? - I remember.
I take my hat off to you, Kenneth. You appear to be a great success.
And despite Frankie spotting right off
that your famous bad luck stayed with you...
I have no more bad luck than the next man.
What was it we used to call Kenneth?
What with my lobotomy, it's slipped my mind.
Aye. Jonah, wasn't it?
I am not a Jonah! I am a success!
Look at me. Look at you.
I am a success! I am not a Jonah! I do not suffer from bad luck!
Major?
Major Maclean?
What? What happened to me?
- I wonder if he knows what I know. - Och, John.
Just musing.
- Can we take that walk tomorrow? - Yeah, sure.
Kenneth was always such a bright boy,
but our parents always made more of a fuss of me.
They were very proud of my psychic gifts and Kenneth came to resent that.
Well, that's not uncommon.
You'd think he'd have mellowed after 35 years.
I suspected that Kenneth had psychic powers far greater than my own.
Somehow all the bitterness and...
Is that Isobel?
What is this?!
Look, I had a message!
- Hamish, it said you were seriously ill. - I'm OK. It's all right.
Oh! Look... It said...
Isobel, calm down. There's nothing the matter with me.
- That's what it said. - I'm all right.
- There you go. - Thanks.
- Did you not think to check things? - Check?
I didn't take the call.
The message said you were at death's door.
- Do you want me to paint a picture? - No, no.
I'm sorry.
- Did the caller leave a name? - No.
I just supposed it was someone from here. Someone who knew us.
I was out on a job down by the bridge.
I just dropped everything and left them all in the lurch.
I didn't even ring the office.
I'm sorry it happened, Isobel.
- Hello again. - Miss Grimm. A fine evening.
Yes, it is.
"Look in the place where the monarch soars."
"Look in the place where the monarch soars
"and the young go to bask in the sun."
Place where the monarch soars.
The monarch... soars.
And the young go to bask in the sun.
The young... in the sun.
I'm going mad. Mad.
You're not mad. You've had a bit of a turn, that's all.
He was just standing there, Doctor.
With this vacant look in his eyes.
I'm going mad. I know it.
It was just as if he'd been zombie-fied.
As if all the vital juices had been drawn off him.
What are you doing?
Never you mind, Miss Grimm.
Now... if our little ruse has worked,
Miss Isobel Sutherland should be in the vicinity by now.
- Wouldn't you say? - Yes.
I wonder what she'll have to tell us.
Hamish?
She's very distressed, Doctor.
She was just staring into space. She must have been there all night.
Isobel, what's happened?
I don't know... I don't know.
I've been trying to remember... I just can't. I can't remember.
Isobel, I don't think there's anything to worry about.
The same thing happened to Rory and the Major and they've come out of it.
Where's Hamish? He should be here.
- He'll be here when he finds out. - You can be sure of it.
He should be here.
Time for a brew, I think.
"Look in the place where the curtain roars."
Roars.
"Look in the place where the monarch soars
"and the young go to bask in the sun."
Sun...
"Look in the place where the curtain roars..."
- This is the life, eh? - Aye, it's a grand day, all right.
Are we headed anywhere in particular?
Peep Rock Falls.
Right.
Here's something I'd like you to read.
"Lochdubh invaded by military police."
Well, it was 1942.
They'd come to round up Euan McIver, my father,
along with Fergusson Maclean, Hector Campbell,
Angus McCrae and John Finlayson.
That was Isobel's grandfather.
On account of them being AWOL.
- All on the run at the same time? - That's right.
You see, they'd come up north with the Stone of Destiny.
- What? - I think you heard me, Hamish.
The Stone of Destiny's in Westminster Abbey
underneath the Coronation Chair.
No. No, that's a fake, Hamish.
A copy made by Lachlan's father, Angus.
- You are winding me up, right? - No.
These McCraes can turn their hand to anything...
No, no. I mean this whole conversation.
Then no again.
What happened was, during the war,
the stone was removed from the abbey and hidden.
Then a plan was sent to the Canadian prime minister for safekeeping -
just in case of invasion, you understand?
Well, as luck would have it, there was a young Scots-Canadian officer -
some sort of far-out relative of the Major's on the distaff side.
Well, he saw the plan...
This young man bumps into the Major's father
at some sort of officers' shindig
and suggests that they remove the stone
and replace it with a replica.
Fergusson Maclean then approached my father and the others
who instantly agreed to the scheme.
By all accounts, their objective was easily achieved.
And they found the Stone of Destiny.
My father told me it was a full five minutes before any man could speak.
Viva Scotia.
Viva.
They returned the copy McCrae made
and brought the real thing up here.
Clues to the stone's whereabouts
were put into verse by Hector Campbell.
Old Maclean came up with this grand scheme -
each line of verse would be passed on to the eldest in each family
and they, in turn, would pass it on to their children.
- But no single one of them knew? - Oh, I knew.
My father thought the scheme dangerously complicated
and just came right out and told me where it was.
It's Latin.
Roughly translated, it reads:
"If Fate grew kind...
"where'er this stone is found
"the Scots shall monarchs of that realm be crowned."
Could you give me a hand, please, Hamish?
Oh, my God. It's beautiful.
It's actually very plain, Hamish.
It's like I can hear the thousands of years.
They say it's thousands of years old...
...and that it was brought across Europe by the Celtic peoples.
The Stone of Destiny, Hamish.
The Coronation Stone of the ancient Scottish kings.
Why me?
I've no one else to tell, Hamish.
- What am I gonna do now? - Nothing.
Just pass on the information to your children when the time comes.
The stone can lie here until all the people want it.
You know what I mean?
I know what you mean.
But what about the stone in the abbey?
The fake. What if they decide to give it back?
I think if they'd decided to give it back, I would have known about it.
- So you'll keep the secret then? - What do you think?
Good man.
But just because I'm a bit dewy-eyed here...
...doesn't mean I'm accepting this dying nonsense.
You've made that abundantly clear, Hamish. Come on.
You can come back and see it any time you like.
I don't believe this.
"Look in the place where the monarch soars
"and the young come to bask in the sun."
"Look in the place where the monarch soars
"and the... young come to bask...
"...in the... sun."
"Look in the place where the curtain roars..."
"Look in the place where the monarch soars..."
The monarch.
The king of fish.
Yes. Oh, yes.
Oh, yes. That poor family's relief was palpable
when I arrived on the scene.
Arrived and took charge.
Yes, I am a happy chappie.
I've got Jean and I've got my profession.
Now, I know some people may think it's a bit of a morbid occupation,
but that is entirely the wrong perspective to take.
What I am is a rock,
a shining beacon in that sea of grief.
And that requires a certain quality.
A cool head when confronted by that Grim Reaper.
Are you listening to me?
You haven't said a word since I came in.
Daddy?
Something's wrong with Isobel. Sorry, John.
Oh! 30 years!
I've been working with horses for 30 years
and I've never been bitten before.
Well, there is a first time for everything, Mr Finlay.
You just console yourself while I have a word with my partner.
"Where winter steps can be clumb."
That's what he said. Is that a word, "clumb"?
Who cares, Miss Grimm? I know where the stone is.
"Where the monarch soars" - that's salmon. They swim up waterfalls.
"Where the young come to bask in the sun" -
where we children would swim in hot summers.
"Where the curtain roars" - a waterfall again.
And that dreadful line about winter steps.
When the falls froze, you could climb right up it.
I know where the location is, Miss Grimm. I really do.
- Why four horses? - Because I say so, Miss Grimm.
Now, let's get ready.
I'd better make a move.
- If everything's OK. - Yeah. I'm much better now.
Listen, tell me...
How upset were you when you got that phoney message?
I was... upset.
Aye, I know, but...
More than just, "Oh, poor Hamish"?
More than just that kind of upset?
Isobel...
Yes.
Why wouldn't it be? You're one of my closest friends, Hamish.
One of my closest friends.
That's good to know.
Do you want another drink?
Or we could go to The Stag Bar.
- Or somewhere. - I don't know.
Stag Bar it is. Come on.
- We don't need that. - Oh, yes, we do.
That's it. Of course.
Of course.
- Do you think he'll come out of this? - Probably.
Yes, I'm sure, Lachie. I think I know what we're dealing with here.
- What's up, Doc? - Ah!
Kenneth?
It most certainly is, brother.
Come to collect the Stone of Destiny.
- What? - Stone of Destiny.
Watch my lips. Stone... of... Destiny.
What your brother means, Mr McIver,
is that he's going to sell the stone to my... Oh.
I think you've got a midgie under your eyelid.
They get absolutely everywhere - lips, nostrils, ears.
Everywhere.
But about the stone, brother. Just so you know.
Miss Grimm's gentleman friend has offered me top dollar
for that outsized brick.
You know I can never tell you where the stone is.
Listen to him. He thinks I've come for directions.
I know where the stone is, brother.
"Look in the place where the curtain roars..."
Di-dum, di-dum, di-dum.
Even by Campbell's standards, that's a terrible set of verses.
"Where winter steps can be clumb"? God Almighty.
If you know where the stone is, why have you come here?
Don't you know, brother? Then use your psychic gifts...
...and take a guess, brother.
Take a guess.
- corrected by 7kozlov - www.myfbs.ru