Half Moon Street

Watch where you're going, you silly cow!

Jesus Christ.

Welcome to London, Dr. Slaughter...

and to the Institute for Middle Eastern Strategic Studies.

Dr. Slaughter has a Ph.D. from Harvard...

and comes to us after 3 years fieldwork in China.

Now, I don't have to remind you...

how important it is for our institute...

to maintain its special relationship...

with the Arab world.

We're dependent upon its good will...

and its generosity...

for the funding of all our research projects.

So think of yourselves as ambassadors...

bridge builders...

friends.

You owe me the money, Nigel, and I want it.

Ask me nicely, then.

Why should I? We bought the house together.

Everything is in the lawyer's hands.

The divorce papers are going through.

Nigel, I have to pay my rent.

If you can't afford it, get something smaller.

Smaller? It's a bedsitter, Nigel.

It makes our place in Peking look like a palace.

You used to say your surroundings...

didn't matter as long as I was around.

Did I? Well. I must have been in love.

Don't worry. It won't happen again.

Julian, I know it's very un-British to ask this...

but how do you manage?

Manage?

On £150 a week.

You mean you're living on your Institute salary?

What are you living on?

My father has a small merchant bank, actually.

Well, bully for you. What about the rest of us?

Grants, scholarships.

Lauren, it's considered to be a good job.

Julian, where I come from...

a good job is a job that pays well.

Why don't you apply for the Kuwait field trip?

What's that?

Well, every year the Kuwaitis select...

someone from the Institute to do field research for them.

First-class travel, limitless expenses...

and a little extra money.

Sounds too good to be true. Why haven't you applied?

I have.

Last week's car bombing of yet another...

Libyan exile in London, Half if Hassan...

has underlined the dangerous mood...

of the unpredictable Arab leader.

Because of the rising tide of terrorist violence...

Lord Bulbeck. Britain's leading expert...

on Middle Eastern affairs, has stepped up his contacts...

among the moderate Arab states.

Lord Bulbeck. the international lawyer...

has been asked by the Prime Minister...

and several interested parties...

to come in as an impartial negotiator and observer.

Lindsay!

- Lindsay, come here! - What is it now?

This place is really falling apart.

Calm down, Lauren. I'll fix it.

Lindsay, that will only hold until my next shower.

You know, I do this twice a day.

Why don't you just call a goddamn plumber...

and really fix it?

No money for a plumber, and you owe me two weeks rent.

You bloodsucker, Lindsay.

You could hock that video.

And you, Doctor, you could hock your ass.

Just call the plumber, Lindsay...

or you'll have another Not-ting Hill riot on your hands.

A white one!

You didn't touch your quail.

I don't eat dead animals.

Do you eat them alive, Dr. Slaughter?

I'm a vegetarian.

I guessed as much.

I don't smoke, either. What do you do, Mr. Van Arkady?

Oh, I'm one of these boring bankers.

Anglo-Arab Investment Trust.

All those boring petrodollars.

What do you do? Obviously, you're not a banker.

Right now, I'm lobbying like hell...

to get on a field trip to Kuwait--

care of the Middle Eastern Institute.

That's where I work.

I'm impressed.

Don't be. We're only paid £150 a week.

- That's not much. - No.

If there's anything I can do-- that's what bankers are for.

China? Now, that really scares me.

Nine hundred million people breeding like rabbits.

You're wrong, Lady Newhouse.

What do you mean, I'm wrong?

There are over a billion now.

That's official.

You're both wrong.

There are only 2 people in China...

and I know both of them.

2 people in China? I love it.

OK. If there are 2 people in China...

how many are there in the world?

There are 5,000 people in the world.

That's it--5,000.

And I suppose, Mr. Van Arkady, that you've met them all.

Five thousand? That's all that counts?

What about the starving millions?

A million isn't a number in any real sense.

There's murder in nature. Millions are dying right now--

starved, bombed, in camps.

Nobody gives a damn.

You may deplore it, but it's a fact.

Those 5,000--Who are they?

How many of them are...British?

Forty-five.

- German? - Sixty.

African?

None, and more Arabs than you might think...

but they're all here in London.

I suppose the rest are American.

And naturally, Mr. Van Arkady, you're one of the 5,000.

Bien entendu.

Tell me, how many are women?

- Interested, aren't we? - Very.

Well, since we're on the subject of women...

shall we go and have our coffee?

I'm going to miss you.

I'm not going anywhere.

You don't understand. You're being summoned.

Ladies to the loo and baby talk...

whilst we men pass the port and smoke cigars.

That sucks.

That's London, my dear.

Julian, have you heard anything from the Kuwait Embassy?

They keep giving me the run-around.

- About the field trip? - Yeah.

It hasn't been decided yet.

About that Kuwait trip...

shouldn't I write and confirm your travel dates?

I suppose, yes. I didn't know it was so soon.

Well, just draft a letter, and I'll sign it.

Well...

Good news.

- Good night, Lauren. - Good night, Julian.

Dr. Slaughter.

This came for you. Special delivery.

Thank you.

This young woman earns £200 an hour.

Her takings for a single week...

might be several thousand pounds.

She is one of a growing number of young women...

who work in London's newest industry...

the escort service...

grossing several million pounds monthly, most of it tax-free.

The Jasmine Agency has been operating...

for 3 years from their offices on Pont Street.

It dispatches dozens of girls...

to wealthy customers all over London...

every night of the year.

Do you take credit cards?

What's that shit you're watching?

I don't believe this.

He has been a mercenary in the Congo...

Sounds like it's pretty funny.

More than you think.

This is Madame Cybele.

Her last known employer was the Hotel Bristol, Beirut...

though her duties there were somewhat obscure.

Oh, no.

Lindsay!

Get out--get out of the way! I was expecting to get there...

...was sentenced to 6 years for manslaughter...

and 2 years for disposing of the body.

What can I get you, Love?

Nothing. Lindsay, I can't take it anymore.

You've got to fix that shower.

Why should I fix the shower?

It's your shower, too. You fix it.

Lord Bulbeck. well-known international jurist...

whose services have been used before...

was a surprise visitor to number 10...

But I don't have any money. I mean, I don't have any money.

But you've got this ritzy job at some institution.

Institute. Ritzy, my ass. Look at this.

"The Future of Opec, by General Sir George Newhouse."

- I wrote this article. - It don't say that.

He took my piece, he changed 3 lines...

and he put his name on it.

Look, man, at least you're getting paid for all of that.

But they don't pay anything.

What?

You mean, you're doing all of that for nothing?

Maybe you're not so smart after all.

Hello, I'd like to speak to Mr. Hugo Van Arkady, please.

Who's calling, please?

This is Dr. Lauren Slaughter...