Wild Target

Hello?

The matter has been dealt with.

47?

Half now, half later.

Why do they always have to do that?

-I love you! -Shut up.

Who the hell are you?

Victor Maynard.

I love you!

Hello.

Where are we going?

That wasn't me.

I love you, Victor Maynard!

Victor Maynard, I love you.

Oh, the fucker.

Victor Maynard!

You know, I read somewhere that men who live too long

with their mothers tend toward the homosexual.

Really?

You and I lived together for a long time.

Yes, we did.

You don't... tend, do you, Victor?

I don't think so, mother.

Then what's the problem?

I actually can't stay much longer.

I got your card from Paris with the clipping.

Forty yards, in the street, with a silencer.

Very dexterous. Your father would've been proud.

Opening up the international side ofthings like that.

Well, I'll call in again soon.

Wait. There's your birthday.

But that's not until...

Oh...

You--you shouldn't have.

They're all there.

Right from the first, "Death of an accordionist."

Plenty of blank pages at the end, too.

Quite a career. Quite a legacy.

You're going to be 55, Victor.

I know.

The age your father was when you were born.

Indeed.

I've taken up knitting.

Blue for a boy.

We can hope, at least.

Good-bye, mother.

Someone has to carry on the family business.

These skills mustn't be lost.

I've brought you a present, too.

His name's Roger.

Roger the parrot.

Ah, merci.

Mm! Mm! Mm.

J'aime particulièrement les vins de Bourgogne.

Et vous?

-Wrong side ofthe road! -Wrong way!

Idiot!

Hey!

Oh! (SIGHS)

Rose...

Have you got it?

I'm worried.

I don't want to do this.

-We agreed. -Yes, I know.

But?

Rose, I need you to absolutely swear to me,

that nothing bad will happen to the painting.

Gerry...

I swear.

You know that by doing this, you're making me very happy.

Yeah.

And ifthat's not enough, then just think ofthe money.

Are you thinking, Gerry? Hmm?

Yeah.

-Okay. -Great.

Oh, my God. It's really, really beautiful.

Where's the copy?

That is the copy.

Here's the original.

Still wet.

Don't get them mixed up.

At home, the Minister for Culture, Media

and Sport described as "deeply disappointing"

the sale to a private Russian buyer yesterday of a Rembrandt self-portrait

that had been on loan to the National Gallery since 1956.

She said the painting was an irreplaceable treasure,

but the Gallery had simply not been able to match the overseas bid.

We agreed on 900.

900,000 or I keep it.

All right, fine, you asked for it.

I'm keeping it.

Hey, calm down. Calm down.

I was joking.

I was joking. Ooh.

Perfect, Mr. Ferguson.

without any question.

without a shadow of a doubt.

What did I tell you?

It's breathtaking.

I can't imagine how you came to have it.

Well, you'll have to 'cause I'm not going to tell you.

We may not know how, but we certainly know why.

Barney, the cash.

800,000 pounds.

We agreed 9.

-We said 8. -We said 9.

-8. -9.

8.

All right, 9.

900,000, or I'm keeping it.

-What? -All right, I'll keep it.

Hey, I just said yes to 9. Put it back.

One million.

-You're out ofyour mind. -All right, I'll keep it.

Stop!

My dear, I'm not a gangster.

But I was in real estate for 20 years. I stop at nothing.

Calm down.

I was joking.

-Have that much cash with us? -Yes, captain.

So now... this jewel...

the ultimate record of one man's fearless conversation

with his most profound self, stays with me.

And Mr. Zhirkova goes home with a very good fake.

Which he'll enjoy just as much 'cause he actually can't tell the difference.

But I can. Got a nose for this kind ofthing.

-You've got a-- -Huh?

On your...

What's he talking about?

It's a fake.

It can't be!

It's a fake!

Oh, yes.

Look at the yellow here, and you'll--

She switched it.

You don't say.

Trois, deux, un...

You have a new client.

Look, there's not a mark on it.

Do you know how much trouble I could get into?

Yep, about this much.

-Rose... -What?

Don't push your luck too far.

What could happen to me?

She's completely out of control.

-Hi! -Hello, sweetheart.

-Just gonna change, all right? -Be my guest.

I know. Just so hopeless...

-See anything you like? -Sorry?

Oh, um...

-A drink? -Yeah...

Uh... well...

Bye, sweetheart!

-Bye. -Oh...

At last.

Shit.

-All right? -Mm-hm.

Room 27.

I know. I remembered.

You've got no messages.

-That's the way I like it. -Solitary type, huh?

Well, there's a buzzer by the side ofthe bed

if you, uh, change your mind...

What do you weigh?

Yes.

No.

You've committed the ultimate sin, Victor.