[ Horn honks ] All right.

Come back as you are.

That's it.

Straight back.

Come on.

Left hand down a bit.

Left hand down a bit.

That's it.

Straight back.

Straighten out.

Stop!

Stop!

You cross-eyed old trout.

You stupid mare!

Look what you've done.

You've gone and broken his bloody light!

Why didn't you shout "stop," you geriatric bonehead?!

I did, but you're as deaf as a pickled herring!

You couldn't direct rain to the ground, you blind eunuch!

You're in a right mess now.

This is gonna cost you a fortnight's pension.

These things are driven by cavemen.

Do you know that?

I expect they'll try and do us for a twisted chassis.

-Ah, hello, Cyril.

-Hello, ma'am.

-Hello, Lovejoy.

-Hello, Cyril.

Which one's it gonna be, then?

Banker's drafts?

Building society checks?

Postal orders?

-Cash.

-Cash?

Thought you were down on your uppers.

Not quite that far, Cyril.

Janey.

Uh, lot 20, 53, 64, and 111.

-Nobody saw us do it.

-Eh?

Could have been done before we got here.

[ Whispering ] Get in the car.

Don't you think we ought to leave our name and address?

I say, don't you think we ought to leave our name and address?

You leave your name and address.

-LEO: What about the valuation?

-It's been around for 300 years.

Another couple of days isn't going to make any difference.

LEO: Don't go so fast, you stupid old biddy!

[ Horn blares ] ALICE: Look what you're making me do, for God's sake!

We'll drop this off at the stripper's and see you in the pub, Tink.

Don't let them charge you more than a fiver!

No!

Up we go, Eric.

Ah, yes!

Oh, no!

-What's the matter?

-That's the matter!

Ah.

Go and see if anybody's left a note on the windscreen.

-Nothing.

-Oh, that's typical, isn't it?

Now, this blanket box has just cost me 20 quid.

Fiver for the strippers, couple of quid for a new coat of beeswax.

I could knock this out for 80 quid.

Maybe a whole 100 if it wasn't raining.

But, no, some inconsiderate skunk has just put me back about 50 quid for a new light.

Where's honesty, eh?

It's out the window.

Where's integrity?

Down the pan!

All part of a general malaise this country's going through.

It doesn't look much, but I bet they've twisted the chassis.

Eric, I wouldn't have been aggressive.

Cash would have solved the problem -- 100, subject to a mechanic's report, of course.

How do you know it wasn't you?

There was that skip behind you... Oh, of course!

I forgot, didn't I?

-Hey, what day is it today?

-Tuesday.

Yeah, I always try and land myself with a 50-quid garage bill on Tuesdays, don't I, Eric?

50 quid?

You can pick one of those up from Frankie O'Connor's scrapyard for a tenner.

Good thinking, Eric.

Both brain cells working, are they?

[ Dogs barking ] That savage mutt'll bite somebody one of these days, Frankie.

-Wants putting down.

-Putting down?

Old Franco?

Wouldn't hurt a fly.

He only eats raw liver.

I'll give you 180 if it's MOT'd.

ERIC: No, we're not selling.

But have you got a back light for one of these?

There's a motorway wreck down the bottom under a green Cortina.

Right.

200 if it's taxed.

You won't get a better offer anywhere.

Frankie, it's mine, and it's not for sale.

Pity.

What's this I hear about you getting the bum's rush from Freddy the Phone's old place?

Boy, oh, boy.

The old jungle drums work quick around here, don't they?

By the way, Barry said to say hello.

-Barry?

-Barry Flynn.

He's me brother-in-law's cousin.

Barry Flynn.

-You were banged up with him.

-Yeah.

How is he?

Still working odd days at the building society, is he?

In a manner of speaking.

Never understood people's fascination with ex-cons.

Everyone who's been inside wants to forget about it.

Rest of the world wants to remind them of it.

Come on, Eric, haven't got all day.

-Got a date with a stripper.

-ERIC: Right.

-Found it all right, then?

-Yeah, we found it all right.

Looking at a tenner there, Eric.

Hey, Lovejoy, you're a totter, ain't you?

-Excuse me?

-We're antique dealers, Frankie.

You know what they are, don't you?

Yeah, they're always going around goosing one another.

You interested in shooters, Lovejoy?

-Big shooters.

-As in guns?

Certainly wouldn't be as in dried peas.

Frankie, I'm in a scrap heap, I'm not on it yet.

And, no, we don't deal in that type of thing.

Never have, never will.

Strictly taboo.

I always thought you fellas could place anything if there was a couple of quid in it for you.

Oh, well.

Shows you just how wrong a man can be.

Just a look, maybe.

FRANKIE: All right, boys?

Some shooter, eh, Lovejoy?

Yeah, some shooter, Frankie.

Ha.

-Well?

-Where did you get it?

With a whole pile of scrap from this farmer fella.

Where did he find it?

Says he plowed it up out of one of his fields.

Who would that be?

Cor, there's some meat in it, Frankie, eh?

Heh.

Aah!

God.

I wouldn't mess around with it if I were you, Eric.

It's a big ball job if ever I saw one.

Tipped my scales at over a ton, it did.

Oh, I'm gonna lose this bloody nail now!

I'm asking 200 quid for it.

200 quid?

It's scrap iron.

What would I do with it?

And the bottom's gone right out of the cannon market since the Gulf War.

There's a lot of loose ordnance around these days, Frankie.

If it was only bronze.

Yeah, if only.

Oh, well.

Suit yourself.

I'll give you 150 quid for it, though.

I think it might rain.

I'll whack in another tenner for old Barry's sake.

It looks as if I'm forcing you, and I don't want that.

I'll tell you what we'll do.

We'll make it 175 cash and throw in the blanket chest.

-That's 195.

-Eric!

FRANKIE: That's it, Steve.

Steady now.

Here we go.

Coming down.

LOVEJOY: Bring it down now.

FRANKIE: Hurry up there, Eric.

Get out of there!

ERIC: All right, all right!

Stop, stop.

LOVEJOY: Come on, Eric Grab that end.

Right, there you go.

Right.

Straighten her up now when she comes in.

FRANKIE: Are you gonna move them tables, Lovejoy?

LOVEJOY: No, we'll be all right.

FRANKIE: 'Cause once it's down, it's down.

I ain't messing about anymore, Lovejoy.

[ Metal creaking ] Whoa, whoa!

Can I sell you a sack of sand for the front seat, Lovejoy?

Eric'll do nicely.

Thank you very much.

Get in, Eric!

[ Siren wailing ] [ Groans ] [ Sighs ] Ah!

Officers Alcock and Troon.

Well, we've nothing to declare.

What you see in the back is an antique piece of scrap iron.

Looks like a gun to me.

Hope you've got a license for it.

Would you get out of the vehicle, please, Lovejoy?

Stay where you are, Eric.

Are you familiar with the firearms regulations, Lovejoy?

Well, I'm sure I'm not as boned up as you are, but if you want to confiscate it, feel free.

Go ahead, stick it in the boot of your panda.

-What bore is this?

-Pardon?

-Where did you get it from?

-ERIC: Um... -Frankie O'Connor's.

-TROON: Frankie, eh?

You got a receipt for it?

I'm afraid I haven't.

But Frankie will confirm it, no doubt.

ERIC: Oh, no doubt about it.

You realize you're driving a defective vehicle here?

-Oh... -Well, no.

Yeah.

Well, that's why we were going to Frankie's in the first place, see?

To get a replacement for that.

Well, I've got it in here.

Hold on a minute.

What's all this leading to?

You got your driving license, insurance, and MOT handy?

No.

How about popping them into the station within the next couple of days?

Think I can manage that.

I think there might be a number on this.

-[ Metal creaking ] -ERIC: I've got it!

-LOVEJOY: Eric!

-Hey!

Hey!

Oh, no.

Look.

Ow!

I'm sure I'm gonna lose this nail, you know?

It's not Friday the 13th, is it?

It's gonna be bad luck, that thing.

I know it is.

What are you going to do with it?

It's not exactly a paperweight, is it?

Well, no, you can hardly bring it out with the after-dinner mints, can you?

Excuse me, but you're the one who upped the ante by 15 quid and threw in the blanket chest.

It's a crane job.

How are you gonna move it?

I am not gonna move it anywhere.

-Arthur, mine host.

-Yeah?

How about if I leave that old cannon in your car park for a couple of days?

Free of charge, of course.

It might bring in a few punters, eh?

Just for a couple of days.

And there's no comeback if it gets nicked, all right?

Nicked?

Who's going to steal it?

It weighs a ton.

There's some 'round here that'd nick the salt out your crisps given half a chance.

All right, couple of days.

A week at the most.

Right.

You two stay down there and then get that rope off.

Janey, whatever you do, do not get out of the cab.

What are you gonna do?

Me, well, as soon Baden-Powell here gets these knots undone, I'm gonna pull, and you're gonna push.

Okay, give it a try now.

It should just slip off.

On the count of three, okay?

One, two, three!

[ All grunting ] It's moving!

TINKER: [ Groaning ] Come on, Tink, this is no time for amateur theatricals.

What's the matter?

What's he done?

Oh!

I've ruptured a hernia the size of a football!

I'm dying!

Shall I call for an ambulance, Lovejoy?

They'll never be able to stuff it back.

The fog is rising.

So we haven't reached the "Bugger Bognor" stage yet, eh?

Well, if you don't want an ambulance, perhaps I should call a priest.

Shut up, Eric.

Now, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?

-Just let me have a feel.

-Aah!

Tinker, I haven't touched you yet, okay?

Relax, relax.

Now, how does that feel?

I-I-I felt it!

I felt it go "twang"!

It was the tearing of flesh and sinew and muscle.

I-I'd recognize it anywhere, Lovejoy.

I was in the army, don't forget.

Your braces.

You bust your braces.

[ Laughing ] My braces.

My braces!

Don't park in front of the cellar doors, Lovejoy.

I don't want you blocking the way for the brewery lorry!

Whatever you say, Arthur.

Whatever you say.

-Is he all right?

-[ Metal creaking ] -Don't!

-Whoa!

It's best bitter!

A fountain of best bitter!

I am saved!

Salvation gushing from the ground!

Oh, my God!

Lovejoy, you pillock!

I will kill you!

You have totally destroyed my cellar!

Do you see what you've done?!

Will you stop hitting me?

Oh, am I in heaven?!

Oh!

Aah!

-[ Thud ] -Oh!

Pinch me, somebody!

Will you stop drinking my beer?!

Lovejoy, what have you got to say for yourself?!

What have you got to say for yourself?!

I love this day.

Oh, God, I love this day!

Well, we've all heard about things falling off the backs of lorries, but nothing quite as strange as what fell off the back of Lovejoy's pickup truck yesterday and ended up in the cellar of the Royal Oak in Kiveton.

Lovejoy here is a local antique dealer.

Can you tell me exactly what happened?

Well, it was an accident, really.

It's an old cannon.

It weighs over a ton.

I've got absolutely no idea how much it's gonna cost or what the damage has been.

A flipping great thing like that crashing through into the cellar.

In fact, actually, until we get a full structural report from the builder, we can't move it.

But, um, if anybody would like to see it, you're perfectly welcome to pop by the pub.

We do bar snacks and good pub grub.

We have a stripper on Saturday...

Yes, thank you very much.

Lovejoy, where exactly did you find this cannon?

Found it in a scrapyard.

-How much is it worth?

-It's hard to say, really.

A lot less than it was before it destroyed my cellar.

I've got no idea -- None of this would ever have happened if some vandal hadn't backed into my pickup truck, smashed the rear light, and started this whole chain... Alice!

Come and have a look at this!

"No one saw us do it.

Get in the car."

Stupid old... One of my partners is losing a fingernail, the other one's had a partial hernia, the cannon went down the cellar steps, has caused untold damage.

Anyway, as I was saying, if you would like to see the cannon, the Royal Oak at Kiveton's the place, and we do great pub grub... MAN: Yes, thank you, Arthur.

Thank you, Arthur.

What do you plan to do about this, Lovejoy?

Do about it, right.

I intend to track down this vandal, wherever he or she is, find witnesses, get forensic evidence -- I don't care what it takes -- and sue them for substantial damages.

That's what I intend to do about it.

Did you hear that, you stupid old kipper?

It just goes to show that you can't always be sure of what falls out of the sky.

Where is she?

Where are you?!

Nick Palmer, BBC East.

That Lovejoy fella's gonna track us down and sue us for every penny we've got.

And no doubt the pub as well.

And the fella with the rupture!

That's a truss we've got to fork out for.

I knew we should have left our name and address.

They've got to find us first.

Bring these.

I hear you've been applying Newton's law of gravity down at the Royal Oak, eh, Lovejoy.

Ha ha ha.

Very witty.

TROON: Any change of address is supposed to be notified with the DVLC.

Where are you living now?

He rents accommodation from me.

You know my address.

Just put that down.

If you wish, Your Ladyship.

I assume Lord Felsham is aware of this, uh... Toy boy?

The word I had in mind was "arrangement," actually.

I shouldn't think so for one moment, but that's absolutely no concern of yours, Constable.

Apart from that, is everything in order?

Well, there is the question of a back taillight.

That'll be repaired.

And no doubt the front headlight will too.

I'll send you the bill here, shall I?

Well, thanks for saying what you did, Janey.

There was no need to mention Alexander.

Why not?

Everyone knows.

What's the point of pretending?

If it weren't for the fact that I don't really care where he is, I'd report him as missing person.

Will the toy boy drive?

-Only if you'll sit in the back.

-Of course.

You know my fantasy about chauffeurs, don't you?

[ Engine turns over ] ALICE: Don't tell me what to do.

And don't speak now.

LEO: Please, God, don't hit a police car.

ALICE: I'm not gonna hit a police car!

All right, all right.

Tell me that again.

Slowly.

-You see, the thing is -- -Hold on, Alice.

We're old-age pensioners, you see, Constable?

We don't want to get into any trouble with the law.

No, we're a bit worried about our no-claims bonus.

I was a dentist, you see?

I don't think I ever did your teeth, did I?

No, you never did.

Couple of nice crowns you've got there.

Get to the point, Leo.

What is it you want exactly, Mr. Dearbourne?

You see, the thing is, Constable, we'd like this Lovejoy fellow's address so we can go 'round and pay him for his broken back light and get him off our backs, so to speak.

Has he been harassing you?

Oh, no.

No, we've never even met him.

We just want to apologize and pay him and get the whole thing over with, with the minimum of fuss.

I can't do that.

Oh.

Oh, I'm sure you can because, well, you're obviously a very nice and understanding young man.

You see?

You see?

You leave it to me, everything gets done properly.

-All right, all right!

-Never mind this... [ Gasps ] Oh!

Oh, thank you so much.

You just tell me if he causes you any problems, Mrs. Dearbourne.

Oh, I will, Constable.

I will.

Thank you, Constable.

Thank you very much.

Come on, come on.

What did you have to go and mention crowns for?

All right, all right.

Thank you.

And I owe £1,000 for cellar repairs, which means I've got to make at least 1,200 just to break even.

So I need someone to come and give me an accurate estimate and suggest some suitable punters.

Well, that's what you do, isn't it, Gently?

Who?

Major Eddie Turpin?

What?

Hold on.

Yeah.

Go on.

Major Eddie Turpin.

President of the All England Black Powder Society.

Ever so slightly flaky.

Done time for arms smuggling.

That's all I need.

Flaky arms smuggler.

Major Turpin?

-Oh, you must be Lovejoy.

-Yeah.

Now, who was it you said who recommended me?

Alexander Bently, the arms specialist.

Gently Bently, mm?

Know him well, do you?

-I think so.

-Jolly good.

Then tell me something about Gently which very few people know.

Oh, his real name.

Peter Christopher Rabbit.

Right, now... 17th-century nine-foot cast-iron gun barrel.

Probably a demiculverin with a five-inch bore.

both trunnions intact.

Ah, vent blocked.

Good cascabel button there, Clean astragals and fillets.

Signs of being in the ground for some considerable time.

Weight, well, around one ton.

A ton and a half, perhaps.

Yeah, the cross of St. George and the Irish harp denotes that this cannon was probably part of a lot cast for the city of Derry in Northern Ireland.

This artillery piece will almost certainly have been among the ordnance on the city walls.

Now, I know you got it from the scrapyard chap, but how did he come by it?

According to him, it was plowed up in a field somewhere near here.

Plowed up in a field, eh?

Now, that is interesting.

The type of rust proves that, and I think you'll find that it's odds on that this little monster was plowed up on a disused airfield.

How do you know that?

ERIC: There's loads of 'em 'round here.

TURPIN: Yeah, he's right.

Well, during the last war, when this country was on its knees -- in the dark days, that was -- there was a call for scrap metal.

It was brought in from all over the United Kingdom, certainly from Northern Ireland, to central smelting points.

Remember that?

Yes, I remember that.

They took the railings down around the brewery.

They never did put 'em back again.

No.

We gave up our aluminium saucepans, which were melted down to make Spitfires.

Church bells turned into bullets, you know?

That kind of thing.

So?

Yeah, well, not a lot of people know this.

Still a state secret, even after 50 years.

Mega news blackout and all that.

Picked it up when I was working at MoD.

Don't tell me this would have been the only thing left to fight with if the Germans had invaded.

Not even close.

You see, early on in the war, during the RAF bombing campaign of German cities, at one stage we were so short of bombs that rather than let aircraft take off with an empty space in its bomb bay, they would fill it up with anything heavy they could lay their hands on.

Uh, Major, we're in the trade, you know?

You're making this up, aren't you?

TURPIN: Making it up?

Why the hell should I make it up?!

Anything falling on the Krauts' heads is better than nothing.

You know, train wheels, bedsteads, old Austin 7 car engines... Major, can we stick to the business at hand?

You know the trouble with you people?

You deal with antiques, but you've no sense of history.

Well, I find it fascinating, Major.

Oh, you know, they still remember a night in Hamburg which they call Bugeleisen Nacht.

That's "flatiron night."

And half a Wellington load of flatirons made a direct hit on the Rathaus.

Flatirons falling on the Hamburg town hall?

Major Turpin, would you be available for our next Christmas party?

[ Laughs ] You don't suppose that the brass in London would tell the poor sods in Benghazi that we're down to running the war on scrap, do you?

Hmm?

Well, just look at this.

It's the same size as a 1,000-pound bomb.

Leave the same hole when it hit.

Keep a German bomb disposal unit tied up for best part of a week, this would.

Yes, I heard about this somewhere, Lovejoy.

It's not as strange as it sounds.

-Oh, not you too, Tink.

-But it's true!

Truth is weirder than fiction.

-Major, more to the point... -What's it worth?

Oh, well, to be quite honest with you, I'm not really interested in it.

But this thing is over 300 years old.

It doesn't count.

Serious collectors want bronze or more embellishment.

Major, do you want to just make me an offer, see if we're even close?

Well, I don't know, really.

I mean, I suppose I could go to... Well, I don't know really.

I mean, 250?

Considering the mess you're in?

250?

Sure.

And that's if it wasn't still loaded.

Loaded?

I think we've finally reached meltdown, boys.

You owe me a grand you can't come up with, and the major here tells me the thing's still loaded!

Is it dangerous?

Uh, it's hard to say.

If it was my pub, I'd rather see the thing out here than in there.

Will you give me a grand for it?

Oi!

I can lip-read.

It's mine!

You can't do that.

We're your best customers.

We've been coming here for years!

Six months, to be precise!

And only because you were barred from the Black Horse!

I wasn't barred!

I was asked to leave.

What do you say?

I've already told Lovejoy.

I'm really not interested in it.

Arthur, we'll move the cannon, and the major here will make sure the Royal Oak doesn't get blown to pieces, won't you, Major?

Well, yes, naturally.

Subject to my usual defusing fee, of course.

What about the thousand you owe me for the damage?

Pay you 500 on account.

480, 490, 500.

You hung onto your Scottish pound notes as well?

Lucky for you I did.

That's the second time today I've had to bail you out.

How can I repay you?

I could think of half a dozen ways.

One'll do.

You're a very special person.

You mean a lot to me.

Oh, no, don't start buttering me up.

It's probably a leap year, isn't it?

[ Chuckles ] Actually, it is!

-No, it's not.

-Yes, it is.

No, it's not.

Is it?

Right, Frankie.

Bring it up gently.

Very carefully now.

Steady as she goes.

Steady now.

Steady.

Right across, Frankie.

Well done.

There's your 500 on account, Arthur.

-TURPIN: Bring it in.

-You had any offers yet?

ERIC: On the truck, Lovejoy?!

Yeah!

That'll do nicely, Frankie!

Whoa!

Easy, Frankie!

TURPIN: Well done, well done.

Had me worried for a minute there, Frankie, but a lovely smooth extraction.

Wasn't it just!

-Lovejoy... -Yes, Major?

That's another score, by the way, Lovejoy.

Tinker'll see you right, Frankie.

-Oh, thanks!

-LOVEJOY: Yes, Major?

I can't take the ball out here.

I need a stronger rod.

Where are you taking it?

Lady Jane Felsham says we can leave it at her place for the time being.

I think I may have found you a buyer.

Chap who's setting up this Cavalier-Roundhead theme-park thing near to Newark.

Basically he wants pieces which he can fire.

As is fairly obvious, you can't fire that.

I reckon he'll go to around seven.

You know, well, 750 at the outside.

Are you ready, Janey?

Ready when you are, Mr. DeMille.

-Oh, one thing, Lovejoy.

-Yeah?

If that thing goes off, it's pointing at you, so I'd just like to say goodbye.

Bye!

Bye!

Oh, Jane?

Tinker, just remind us how it's gonna go once more.

Yeah, Janey's gonna drive off first, then when I count to two, Lovejoy goes.

So it's Janey, one-two, Lovejoy.

Janey, one-two, then I go.

Okay, Lovejoy, you ready, then?

No, no, shut up.

It's not -- It's Janey first -- I know!

I'm just saying to him, is he ready?

Shut up, Eric!

-Ready!

-[ Engines revving ] -Okay.

Janey.

-They're going!

Janey, one-two, Lovejoy!

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go!

Keep going!

Stop!

Ha ha!

Precision bombing if ever I saw it!

Pity he wasn't so accurate in the Royal Oak car park.

Well done, Janey.

Now all you've got to work out is how to get it back on the truck.

I'm working on it.

Here, Eric.

Here's the soap and plaster of Paris.

I'm sure I've seen this crest before, but I can't think where.

LOVEJOY: Derry?

No, it couldn't have been Derry.

I've never been to Derry.

That's why we need a second opinion.

Thanks, Janey.

-Good morning, Eric!

-Morning.

You've just volunteered to house-sit the cannon while Jane and I go to London.

Oh, thank you very much.

That's very big of you.

Why don't you call in the SAS just to make sure?

Here's the plaster cast.

Still a bit wet.

Nice job, Eric.

And as you'll have very little -- well, almost nothing to do -- may I suggest that you fix the back light and the indicator on my truck?

[ Groans ] The keys to the tantalus up at the big house are under the Yellow Pages.

But I wouldn't even bother because she marks the brandy decanter with a fine pencil line.

-No.

-Yeah.

So buy yourself some lager.

Just get rid of the cans, eh?

-Why can't I come with you?

-Hmm?

-Why can't I come with you?

-Because you can't.

This is where they used to bring them, Janey.

Up the river from Westminster.

The only way out of here was feetfirst and usually minus their heads.

Traitor's Gate.

It's ironic, isn't it?

People who try and ruin a country and fail are called traitors.

Those who succeed are called politicians.

I think the Tower of London's the wrong place for a sudden attack of candor, Lovejoy.

Come on.

WOMAN: [ Russian accent ] Will you tell me what you know about it?

Well, um, I'll try, Miss, uh... Miss "Oolasewitz."

Ulasewicz.

You can call me Natalie if it's easier.

Oh, I'd like that, Natalie.

According to a Major Turpin, Natalie... Would that be Major Edward Turpin?

Yeah, it would be.

This is a 17th-century nine-foot cast-iron demiculverin artillery piece, part of a lot cast for the city of Derry in Northern Ireland and it almost certainly would have been among the ordnance on the city walls.

He also told us this weird story about this stuff being dropped on the Germans from Wellington bombers during World War II.

Also, it's still loaded.

Will you come with me?

I want to show you something.

Both of us?

This piece was dredged up off the Dutch coast.

It went down with a British warship during the Battle of Scheveningen in 1653.

Anything like yours?

Almost exactly like ours.

Considerably less rust.

But what's outstanding about it are the arms, which are the arms of the Commonwealth, which were used by Oliver Cromwell between 1649 and 1660, when this country was a republic.

So it's not from Derry?

This one was used at sea, like yours was.

It's not a demiculverin either.

A culverin.

Possibly a culverin drake.

You look surprised.

We are, rather.

What makes this cannon so rare is that only one other cannon bearing these arms is known to exist, and that's in Barbados.

Yours would appear to be the third.

But surely Cromwell cast thousands of cannons with this crest on.

He did indeed.

But when the monarchy was restored and Charles II was safely on the throne, he decreed that every Commonwealth crest was to be obliterated completely.

And they did such a thorough job that nothing survived.

So what you're saying is that our cannon falls into the "quite rare" category.

I'd say so, yes.

And it's worth considerably more than 750 quid, right?

Well, we are not permitted to discuss values.

Uh, but if it's a genuine Commonwealth gun, off the record, um, I'd say 750 would be about 10% of its true value.

I'd have to look at it first, of course.

I can come up tomorrow if you like.

So tell us about Major Turpin.

Oh, he's an enthusiast.

And a dealer in old ordnance.

I bump into him at the sales from time to time.

He buys mainly for the overseas market.

-And sells it too, I hear.

-I believe so.

How come he made such a mistake with the identification?

Well, he's mainly 18th and 19th centuries.

It's very easy to make a mistake if it's not your period.

But I'll tell you one thing -- If it were mine, I would chain it to something really solid.

Like bedrock.

Yes, can I help you?

We're looking for Lovejoy.

We were told that he lived here.

Well, I'm sorry, he's not here today 'cause he's on a business trip in London.

But I'm the next best thing.

Catchpole's the name, antiques are the game.

I imagine it is something antique that's brought you here.

-Yes, him.

-Ha ha!

Not exactly.

You see, Mr. Catchpole, a few days ago, my wife here had a stupid, unfortunate accident.

It wasn't entirely her fault.

She's had her eyes tested, but the... What he's trying to get out, Mr. Catchpole, is that I'm the person who backed into the truck and smashed the back light.

I see!

So if you would be so kind as to give this check for £50 to Lovejoy as payment for the light, with our heartfelt apologies, we'd be most grateful.

-Well, I'm sorry, Missus...?

-Dearbourne.

Yeah, I'm sorry, Mrs. Dearbourne, but he doesn't accept checks, so thank you very much indeed.

Well, we could shoot down to the building society if you like.

If you want my advice, just forget about it altogether.

Forget you've been here.

Forget you've spoken to me.

'Cause to tell you the truth, he doesn't know who did it, and he never will.

Well, that's all very well you saying that, isn't it, but how do we know we can trust you?

We came here in good faith.

Yes, and I respect that good faith, Mrs. Dearbourne.

But trust me, my lips are sealed.

Dealer's honor.

Dealer's honor?

It's the first time I've ever heard that one.

Well, I think that's most noble of you, Mr. Catchpole.

And seeing as you're an expert, perhaps you'd like to come down and look at something?

Ah.

LEO: It's supposed to be the last palette ever used by Van Dyck.

What do you think?

-Van Dyck, you reckon?

-Yes.

Which one?

What do you mean, which one?

There was only one Van Dyck.

There was only one Rembrandt until they started probing into him.

Then they found out there were dozens of them all over the place.

No, I'm not sure about this.

No provenance, no nothing.

And there's no market in palettes these days.

The recession killed it off.

Still, it is a nice frame.

So I'll tell you what.

I'll give you 15 quid for the frame.

Not today, thank you, Mr. Catchpole.

Fair enough.

I won't waste any more of your time, thank you.

Oh, by the way, how much did the repair cost?

Uh, the... 50 quid.

[ Clears throat ] -Morning, Lady Jane, Lovejoy.

-Eric.

Have a nice time in London, did we?

-You sleep well, Eric?

-Of course not.

I was up patrolling the grounds every half-hour.

Regular as clockwork.

'Cause I used to be in security, you know?

Your sacrifice was not in vain.

The cannon's an almost unique piece, and it's worth at least seven and a half grand.

Ha!

You're kidding!

Not only that, somebody from the Royal Armouries is coming down this afternoon to have a look at it.

Maybe they'll make us an offer for it.

Yeah.

-You got drunk, didn't you?!

-I didn't!

You got into the tantalus, didn't you?!

-I did not!

-Yes, you did!

-No, no, no!

-Went into a coma, didn't you?!

Ah.

Lady Felsham?

Major Turpin.

Hello.

-Need you to do one thing!

-I was there all night!

You can't even do it!

-Morning, Major.

-Lovejoy, Eric.

May I introduce Matthew Belford?

Matthew here is opening the theme park I told you about in Newark.

Come to see your cannon.

Well, you've had a wasted journey.

-There's nothing to see anymore.

-I don't understand.

You said you were bringing it here.

-Yes, yes, I did.

-Well?

It was stolen during the night.

Stolen?!

That's impossible!

You can't just walk away with a ton and a half of iron.

I brought Matthew here to have a look at it.

If you've got another client, Lovejoy, I'd find that bloody unprofessional.

And a shoddy trick to boot, if you ask me.

There is no other client and there is no trick!

It's been nicked!

It has gone!

Eric the Rottweiler here got out of it, and it has walked.

-TURPIN: Oh, come on... -You don't believe me.

Come and see for yourself.

Come on.

I didn't!

[ Groans ] TURPIN: I don't understand a damn thing.

No tracks.

No footprints.

Not even a fag end.

What about a helicopter?

I thought you were awake all night.

Or a hot-air balloon.

They're pretty quiet.

Hot-air balloon.

I'm beginning to ask myself if it was ever here in the first place.

Now, what's that supposed to mean?

Sorry about this, Matthew.

I'll be sending you an invoice, Lovejoy.

For services rendered.

Oh, plus my mileage.

All I can say is, I hope it turns up somewhere.

Goodbye, Lady Felsham.

Matthew.

Goodbye.

Did you know it was a Cromwellian Commonwealth gun, Major?

Cromwellian Commonwealth gun my ass.

ERIC: [ Sighs ] You know, if you were awake all night, Eric... Well, I might have dozed off for a minute.

I don't know.

-You heard nothing at all?

-Not even an owl.

-Where's Tinker?

-I don't know.

-You know, Eric, if you -- -I'm going to inform the police.

Then maybe I can claim off my insurance.

I'll come with you.

LEO: Go faster.

-Don't stop.

-I'm not going to stop.

LEO: Faster than that.

ALICE: Don't tell me to go faster!

LEO: Stop now.

Quick, reverse.

Get out.

Out!

ALICE: Look -- Look... -What price dealer's honor now?!

-Get out!

Quick!

Move!

ALICE: I'm moving, I'm moving.

Reverse.

I told you we should never have come near the place, you deranged gerbil!

LEO: Quick!

Get out of here!

Quick!

-Afternoon, all!

-Hello, Tink.

Hello.

Oh, Tinker Dill.

This is Natalie Ulasewicz from the Royal Armouries.

-Pleased to meet you, Mr. Dill.

-Where's the gun?!

Stolen from under his nose last night.

By the way, where were you last night?

I was poring over dusty tomes.

I finally identified the arms on the cannon.

Cromwellian Republic, making it a Commonwealth gun.

What, you know?

I could have stayed in the pub!

There is something curious about all this.

What?

Well, the impression here in the sand doesn't match up with the cannon in your pictures.

Here in the picture, the distance from the cascabel to the trunnions is much greater than it is in the sand.

I'd say that there was at least eight inches difference.

How does she know that?

She's an expert.

Now, the muzzle, here, is much smaller than it is in the sand.

So whatever it was that made this impression certainly wasn't the gun in your pictures.

So what you're saying is that whoever stole the cannon went to all the trouble of making an impression in the sand.

To make us believe that it had been stolen so they could come back later, steal it themselves when the coast is clear, perhaps.

What are you rambling on about, Tinker -- "Coast is clear"?

I mean, it's not here, is it?

Unilateral thinking, Eric.

-Dig.

-What?

JANE: I think something's here.

-ERIC: It's here!

Look!

-JANE: It is!

ERIC: [ Laughs ] Who'd have believed it?!

LOVEJOY: Well done, Tink.

One Commonwealth gun.

If I'm not mistaken.

Would you be burying that thing or just exhuming it, Lovejoy?

-Oh, I can explain, Constable.

-I think we've seen enough.

Lady Felsham, I assume you won't be making a claim on your insurance company?

Of course not!

Well, there is a small matter of wasting police time to be taken into consideration.

But I'll put that on Lovejoy's account if that's all right with you.

ERIC: Looks incredible.

Couldn't agree more.

It could almost fool me.

Well, to avoid a repetition of last night's fiasco, Eric, you're taking first watch.

-What?!

-I'll relieve you in four hours.

What are you lot gonna be doing?

We are going to reward Natalie for an excellent impression of a Commonwealth gun with dinner.

-Spasibo.

-Pozhalujsta, my dear.

Put the saucepans back in the kitchen, would you, Eric?

And rake the sand.

Bloody great.

[ Owl hooting ] TINKER: [ Hiccuping ] About time.

You are relieved.

There's your supper.

What are these?

Oh, thanks a lot.

I shall take over now.

Ah!

Ah, ah, ah.

Have no fear.

[ Snoring ] No, get out the way.

I've got to have a pee.

Morning, lads!

TINKER: I had a lot to drink last night!

ERIC: Well, more than I did!

-TINKER: Oh!

-Everything all right?

-ERIC: Yeah.

-Yeah, fine, thanks.

Breakfast down the pub.

My treat.

-[ Telephone rings ] -Excuse me.

-Could you, um... -Yes.

-Thank you.

-These are nice.

Hello?

Yes, this is Jane Felsham.

What?

Oh, my God.

Is it serious?

Yes.

Yes, I'll be there right away.

What happened?

Tinker's fallen down the cellar steps at the pub.

Oh, my God!

Oh!

[ Speaking Russian ] Are you all right?

Oh, no!

[ Vehicle approaching ] Damn and blast.

Morning!

-We've come to see Lovejoy.

-He's not here.

Oh.

Any idea when he'll be back?

Tomorrow, day after.

Gone to Dublin.

-What?

-He's gone to Dublin.

You can leave a message if you like.

Hey!

That's the cannon that finished up in the pub cellar.

-Isn't it?

-What, this cannon?

-Yes.

-Oh, no, don't think so, no.

Oh, come on, Leo.

Let's go.

There's no point in staying if he's not here.

Come on.

[ Engine turns over ] [ Vehicle doors close ] [ Crash ] Oh, Christ!

God!

[ Muttering ] You silly old tart.

You pin brain!

Look what you've done to the man's car!

-Look, no, it's nothing.

-Nothing?

These things are meant to take knocks and things.

Just forget it.

There's a good chap.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

Not this time.

Look, now, take this.

Have your bumper rechromed.

No, it's my fault.

I shouldn't be parked like this in the first place.

-Come on, Leo, let's go.

-Stop being hysterical!

Insurance details, please!

Look, would you do me a favor, both of you, hmm?

Just bugger off out of here!

[ Engines revving ] [ Engine turns over ] Well, I'd say that was the galloping major.

I must check the cannon.

And who have we here?

Alice and Leo Dearbourne.

They're the couple who smashed the light on your pickup truck.

Now look here, Lovejoy.

If we hadn't been here this morning, your cannon would have ended up on that back of that trailer.

So you're the two who started all this.

Well, the thing is, we did offer your associate £50, but he turned it down.

Did you really?

Is that right, Eric?

Oh!

Well, Alice, Leo, if I may call you that... Now, the thing is, as you won't accept the cash, we'd just like to say how sorry we are for having caused you all this trouble, and we'd like you to accept something in lieu.

Now, just a minute.

I won't be a second.

I'm just gonna get something out the car.

This is a one-off.

One in a lifetime.

-You'll like it.

-You see, this is worth £50.

It's Van Dyck's last palette.

Yeah, more like Dick Van Dyke's.

I offered 'em 15 quid for the frame.

I can't accept it.

This is all your fault.

She's caused so much aggravation.

-I can tell you, Lovejoy!

-Shut up, Leo.

But why can't you accept it?

It'll more than cover the cost of the back light.

Oh, exactly.

I could probably buy another pickup truck and still have a pile of cash left over.

What?!

It's not Van Dyck's last palette.

It's something more interesting.

Come with me.

When Charles I was executed, Cromwell tried to ban all his pictures.

Now, one way the Royalists could keep faith with the monarchy was in these secret pictures.

Anamorphic pictures, they're called.

The way to see them, the way to break the painter's code, was to put a silver cylinder on here, something that Cromwell's rummage crews didn't carry around with them, right?

But I can use Eric's exhaust pipe.

Right.

Who's that?

Ah!

We haven't seen one of those for a bit.

It's Charles I. Ha!

Isn't that incredible?

Well, well.

I -- I can see his face!

LEO: Who would have believed it?

You can never tell what's looking you straight in the face, can you?

No, well, with you, that isn't surprising.

Oh, we -- we just thought it was some old palette.

Leo took it instead of cash for some dental work he did.

I told you, didn't I?

I knew I was right.

You just didn't trust me one little bit, did you?

No.

How much is it worth?

Depending on the painter, three or four grand.

But Eric was right about one thing.

Frame's worth about 15 quid.

My new carpet.

We're worth a fortune.

I've got it.

I've got it!

No, no, no!

Stay away from that thing!

It's still loaded!

Gunpowder loses its potency very quickly with age.

Well... A cannonball it isn't.

What on earth's that?

A Cromwellian rat.

Ugh!

We're off.

Are you quite sure you don't want the palette, Lovejoy?

Alice, keep it.

We're both a few quid up on the day.

Let's leave it at that.

Oh.

Oh!

Thank you.

[ Laughs ] Thank you, Lovejoy.

You're a gentleman.

-Bye, everyone.

-Goodbye, everybody.

-LEO: Cheers.

-JANE: Goodbye.

-Come on, darling.

-Goodbye!

Well, I think this calls for something French and fizzy, don't you, Tink?

I thought you'd never ask!

[ Crash ] LEO: You boss-eyed old bat!

Look what you've done!

ALICE: Don't speak to me in that tone of voice!

LEO: That's the third one this week!

ALICE: Never mind the third one!