Interview commenced at 3pm on Wednesday the 12th of March
in meeting room four.
- Please state your names. - Sure. I'm Marcus Gallo.
- Jason Brindisi. - Grumio.
DS Attica Mars, conducting. Also present is Officer Leo Vedrix.
So, boys, I've invited you here today
in connection with a missing persons investigation.
- Don't you mean "missing people"? - Excuse me?
Well, the plural of person is people, but you just said "persons".
- I know. That's just what we say. - Huh! Interesting.
- Why is that? - We just do.
Look, can we not get bogged down?
- Have you got any snacks? - No!
So, the missing person is Daedalus Greco, Head of Archaeology
at the Ancient History Museum.
Disappeared 48 hours ago, as did his vehicle.
- I wondered if you knew anything about it. - No. Never heard of him.
Oh, you wouldn't catch us at a museum anyway.
We hate, you know, the past and being told not to touch stuff.
Right. Well, that's odd.
Because the last names in his appointments book
appear to be yours.
Three days ago.
That Daedalus Greco! Yes.
That's right, we did meet him,
at the Ancient History Museum, remember?
Oh, the Ancient History Museum!
I thought you said, "The History Museum."
Yeah, yeah, we went there.
Right. I can see this is gonna take a while.
You might as well make yourselves comfortable.
- I'm all over it, babe. - Now... how about them snacks?
Sync and corrections: minouhse www.addic7ed.com
Maybe start by telling me about the day you met Professor Greco.
Well, it started off like any other, really.
I rolled out of bed, had a stretch, had a scratch
and then headed to the bar for my morning poo.
- Yeah, I don't need to hear about that. - You do, actually.
This weren't any old poo.
This one were highly unusual.
- I've just had a highly unusual poo. - Oh, we don't need to hear about that.
Unusual, how? Was it green? Did it come out pebbly?
It were neither the shade nor the shape that were unusual this time.
It's what I found while I were doing it.
A ladies' brooch.
And in the gents. Highly unusual.
Maybe I can give it to Gloria and pretend that I bought it.
Piss off! Finders, keepers. I'm gonna use it to jazz up my tunic.
Gloria's not gonna want that anyway, is she? It's all knackered and covered in dirt.
- That is dirt, isn't it? - Yeah, from where I dug it up.
You dug it? Why did you dig it?
Cos it was wedged in the ground. It's buried treasure.
Is it? Give it here. Maybe it's worth something.
As if! It's well old.
Exactly, might be antique. We should get it valued.
- What happened to giving it to Gloria? - Yeah, fuck that, obviously.
And what happened to "finders, keepers", more to the point?
It's not a legally binding phrase, Grumio.
He's right about that. I don't see why you should get it either.
Well, I own the bar where it was found, and I also own him.
You own... Sorry, this is your slave?
The guy stuffing his face with his feet on the table?
I'm not saying he's a good slave.
So, in the end, we agreed to split the broach, 50/50.
And then, 50, 50, 50, cos I own the bar, too.
So, that's when we went to see your geeky boffin.
Extraordinary.
And you spotted this in the toilet, you say?
It's where I do my best work.
Well, I can confirm it's an Etruscan filigree brooch,
originally part of a set.
Exquisitely made. Extremely rare.
Rare, as in valuable?
Of course! It's over 700 years old.
From an academic perspective, it's absolutely priceless.
Great. That is old. And how about from a money perspective?
Yes, that too, don't worry.
Of course, it would be worth far more
if it was reunited with the other items of the set.
They were grave goods, you see. Offerings to the afterlife.
You don't know if there's a burial tomb under your toilet, I take it?
It does smell like there might be.
I could have a poke around next time I'm having a clear out.
If you'd prefer a more professional approach,
I could arrange a dig for you with trained archaeologists.
Really? That'll be great. Yes, please.
And any artefacts uncovered would be split between yourselves
and the museum, 50/50.
No, that's not ideal, cos we're already splitting it 50, 50, 50,
so we can't split it 50, 50, 50, 50.
That's not gonna work.
Not mathematically, no.
We'll do it ourselves, thanks.
You most certainly will not.
The city doesn't allow amateurs to conduct excavations.
Without a licence, you'd be arrested and imprisoned.
I see, and where do we get a licence from?
Me. So, would you like my help or not? What do you say?
- And what did you say? - We said, "No, thank you."
We didn't want him digging up our bar and making a mess of the place.
- And you didn't begin your own unlicensed dig? - What?
Absolutely not. No, that'd have been illegal, and that's not us.
- No way. - No.
We forgot all about it and went back to our bland, law-abiding lives.
Okay, look for stuff to dig with.
I can ladle up some earth, I guess.
- Big time! Bagsy spatula. - I'll have the whisk.
What are you gonna do with a whisk? Make a pancake, obviously.
I'm not digging on an empty stomach.
And is it just you three, then, that work in the bar?
- Yep, just us. - And Aurelius.
- Aurelius. - But don't worry about him. He's irrelevant.
- And a knobhead. - He's an irrelevant knobhead.
And he wasn't even there that night, so...
No! No, stop it!
- Stop trying to grab my bell. - It's closing time. Just ring it!
Not yet it's not. There's at least 40 minutes to go.
I need these straggly goons to drink up and leave, though.
Amazing. The one time you actually get customers,
and you want to close early.
Worst businessman ever!
Wrong, actually.
- I'm planning something pretty huge. - Oh, yeah?
What's that? Putting your feet up and necking all your stock?
Really clever.
No, we're doing a secret dig for buried treasure,
so we can't have punters here in case they dob us in.
So, yeah, it is pretty clever, actually.
- In your face! - So, hang on...
Could I dob you in?
You can head home if you want, buddy.
As a reward for your hard work.
- We'll close up. - Nice try, "buddy".
But you can't get rid of me that easily. I know all about your little dig.
And I want a cut of what you find, or I'm telling.
Oh, fine! But that is it now.
Just the four of us. We cannot have anyone else getting in on this.
- Fine by me. - Hit it, then, bell boy.
Time, gentlemen, please.
Down your drinks and up the stairs.
Bell man.
Now I think about it, Aurelius wasn't even in that whole week.
- Is this gonna take much longer? - Why?
Somewhere you'd rather be?
No, I'm clean out of biccies. I need more if we're pushing on.
How have you scoffed them already?
- I know, welcome to my world. - They were only diddy.
Go on, fetch us some more, you big meany!
They weren't free, mate.
I bought them from the canteen with my own money, cos I'm so bloody nice.
If you want more, you can pay for 'em yourself.
Fine. Marcus?
You heard the lady. Give her some cash.
Another pack of biscuits, Vedrix.
This time, maybe some with nuts in. Or raisins.
In fact, you know what, Vedrix, surprise me.
So, I was sitting here, considering what to have for my brekkie, when I...
Oh, no, Grumio, when I said, "Re-enact what happened," I did not mean all of it.
Sorry, it's muscle memory.
- The brooch were over there. - Oh, gross out!
Is he genuinely pooing in front of us?
- It's fine. Ignore him. Let's dig! - Well, hang on.
- We need to establish some ground rules. - Ooh, bonus, an old coin!
That's not fair. You can't just pocket stuff. Marcus, tell him.
He is right. This is why we need rules.
One, we declare everything we find.
Two, we dig in pairs to avoid accusations of snaffling.
And three, we put everything on a designated finds table in the bar.
Thank you. Let the dig commence.
Okay, well, this isn't gonna work.
This soil is hard as dicks. It's gonna take months with this stuff.
And we don't have months. We've got precisely until opening time tomorrow morning.
I suggest we get hold of some big-boy tools, pronto.
Right, and you know some big-boy tool shops, do you, that are open at midnight?
There is somewhere I can try, yeah.
Just as soon as I've wrapped this up.
Does the name Ambrosius Boobo mean anything to you?
No. But it probably means a lifetime of bullying for him, whoever he is.
He's a significant player in the Roman underworld.
A convicted smuggler, drug dealer, kidnapper and a pimp.
From your home address, I see he's also your landlord.
- Landlord, really?! - What's his name, Ambrose what?
Ambrosius Boobo.
That is awesome. Thank you for telling us that.
He's gonna be well cheesed off when we pull that out the bag.
You're friends with this well-known felon, then, are you?
- No. No. - No.
We barely know him.
Only see him to hand over the rent, really.
We don't know his name, and he don't know ours.
Oh, salve, Grumio.
All right, Landlord? Bit of a favour to ask.
Oh, yeah, what you got?
We need some big-boy digging tools, and we need 'em now.
Emergency burial, is it?
I offer a full clean-up and alibi service for a mere 500 dennies.
What? No, nothing like that. It's more of an emergency unburial.
See, it turns out the bar is a bit of a gold mine.
Result! Well, I'll happily provide
my specialist gardening gear, in that case...
Magic! I knew you'd help out.
for a share of the spoils, obviously.
Cos we're already splitting it four ways, and Marcus don't want it going up to five.
It won't. It's going up to six.
Six? What? How come?
You can't have my specialist gardening gear without my specialist gardener!
Mum, grab your tools! We're going on a treasure hunt.
Your biscuits.
With ginger chunks this time.
Oh, Vedrix, you're spoiling us!
So, I have three more questions and then you can go.
- How does that sound? - That sounds great.
- Is that one of them? - No, it's not.
Firstly, can you confirm that your meeting with Professor Greco
at the museum was the last time you saw him?
We can indeed, yes.
Secondly, do you categorically deny you began an unlicensed dig in your bar?
Categorically and unequivocally.
In which case, lastly, could you tell me why,
amongst the coins you just gave me,
there was an old Sulla Denarius from 60 years ago,
coated with fresh...
slightly faecal, mud.
You sly bastard! You said, "Put everything on the finds table."
I mean...
I might need to keep you boys a little longer.
My list of questions has just grown.
You take as long as you like, love.
So, let me get this straight...
You found an antique brooch in the ground,
showed it to Professor Greco at the museum, went back to the bar,
where you did start an archaeological dig in the toilets?
Which sort of spread to the main area. Yeah, we did.
But, and this is a fairly big but,
the dig very quickly stopped being archaeological and became more...
architectural.
Architectural? How do you mean?
That is quite a hole you dug there, Landlady.
Yeah, well, you don't get petunias like mine without a bit of elbow grease.
I found a spoon. Look. Do you think it's Etruscan?
I suspect it's the one from the kitchen I was using to dig with, so, no.
I'll put it on the finds table anyway.
Right...
So far tonight, we have found a button, some bits of plate,
a dead rat, and one of our own spoons.
Not an amazing haul, it must be said.
No, more of a "fuck-haul".
- This old brooch is rather nice, mind. - I've had better digs up my nostril.
'Ello. 'Ello.
- There's something down here. - Oh, that does sound different!
- It's, like, a lid for summat. - The tomb.
- The professor mentioned a tomb. - Yeah, sure, why not?
Treasure! We found the bloody treasure!
Thank Joe for that. I was getting bored out my tits!
Go on, crack it open, then, Landlady. Let's get stuck in.
Yeah, son, pass me the widowmaker.
Stand back, everybody. This thing is bloody pointy.
Ancient Etruscan gods, whatever ye be called,
we pray unto you this day to make us fucking minted!
Now, that...
is a sewage pipe.
- You idiots. - Yes, obviously.
- But we bunged the pipe up with a dead rat. - And a tea towel.
So you fixed it?
Sort of. In the bar, anyway.
And I come in this morning and find the soil pipe pumping liquid faeces
all over the folded laundry.
Oh, no! That is bad luck.
Oh, it's luck, is it? It's luck the pipe suddenly burst?
What? Are you...?
Why would you think this had anything to do with me?
Let's see, shall we? You're never usually in this early,
there were banging noises coming from the bar all night,
and, er, your hands are covered in shit.
Call it an educated guess.
Yes, fair point. We might be responsible somewhat.
Well, then, I will need to be compensated somewhat.
I've lost a day's worth of takings, thanks to you.
And so, what's the nature of your relationship with this Gloria?
Oh, don't! I wish I knew. We're dating.
Well, we've been on a few dates.
Some kissing, with tongues, and fondling.
No intercourse as yet. Hoping that's on the cards.
We're not official, but I think we are exclusive. Does that answer your question?
I just meant, is she your neighbour?
Oh, yes. Sorry. She's our neighbour.
Thank you. Got there eventually. Carry on, then, what happened next?
Nothing. That was it. We decided to pack it in, call it a day.
End of.
Hey, no, hang on a minute... We're splitting it seven ways now?
Yeah, Marcus didn't tell me about the huge number of shareholders either.
I'm sorry, but your pipe is fucked.
It's gonna take 200 denarii for me to fix it.
Right. And would you accept payment in buried treasure?
- Yes, okay. - Make that eight ways.
The plumber's in now? Seriously?!
No. If we get up to ten, the maths will be way easier.
Okay, no, this is bullshit.
New system. Every man for himself. No more splitting. Finders, keepers.
Like I've been saying all along.
- No, hang on... - Yeah, I like it. Let's do it.
But, no, we should work together. All right, fine, let's dig.
Let the dig begin...
again!
Yeah, we just turned in, went to bed,
having learnt some valuable lessons about archaeology and plumbing.
And, most importantly, that crime doesn't pay.
A story with a moral. Excellent.
Yeah, so, seeing as there's no more dirt to dig, as it were,
are we free to go?
Not quite yet, I'm afraid.
I've brought your colleague, Aurelius,
in for a quick chat first.
Aurelius? No, no.
He's a gimp and a chump. Don't talk to him.
Well, I'll tell him you said hi.
I want to speak to my lawyer.
- Do you have a lawyer? - Touche.
Okay, forget that, but you listen to me.
If you think I'm gonna rat out my best buds, you're dreaming.
I'd die for those guys. Not the little one.
Sure, he's odd.
But Marcus and Jason are like brothers to me.
Oh, really? The same Marcus and Jason who describe you as,
"An irrelevant knobhead, a gimp and a chump"?
All right, I'll talk, but you need to protect me.
We're talking new job, new wife, new haircut.
- I mean, you don't need us for that one. - New house, then.
Just tell me what happened after you fixed the pipe.
Well, it's safe to say it was complete and utter chaos.
Stop flinging your dirt in my hole.
Well, it's gotta go somewhere, hasn't it?
Shove it in your gob, then. I'm ladling for two, here.
- Get your hands off my pile! - Your pile?
Everything east of the handle is mine.
This is some crap compensation!
Yes, from now on, I'm cash in hand only.
I made no guarantees. You both knew the risk when you signed up.
All I've found so far is a bit of old bread.
Go on, then, pass it here.
Oh, gross!
Stale, but not unpleasantly so.
Bloody hell. What time is it?
- We can't open up like this. - Hello there! Anybody in?
No! And we're closed anyway.
I'm not a customer. It's Daedalus Greco from the museum.
Hang on, he came to the bar?
Oh, you didn't know that.
Well, well, well...
If you want any more out of me, let's talk relocation.
Have you had any thoughts about where you might...
Sicily. Where I'd like to run a fish stand on the beach
with my olive-skinned wife. I just sell the fish, I'm not catching it.
Maybe I'm in a loose partnership with a fisherman, I don't know.
That's for you to figure out. Oh, and I'm changing my name to Raoul.
Raoul. R-A... O...
So you did see Daedalus again.
- Don't listen to Aurelius. - He's confused.
- And lying. - And probably a paedo, let's be honest.
Maybe. But he's gonna sing like a canary
as soon as I agree to his bizarre witness protection demands.
So why don't you make life easier for all of us
and come clean right now?
All right, fair do's. We'll fess up.
What? Hang on... Will we?
So we did see the geeky boffin again.
Hello there! Anybody in?
No! And we're are closed anyway.
I'm not a customer. It's Daedalus Greco from the museum.
Hello, Professor Greco. What a lovely surprise!
I'm sorry to barge in, but I have some information about your find.
Fantastic. Can we discuss it outside, maybe?
- You're digging... - No, no.
without a licence!
No! We're not digging.
This is an early morning, underground,
soil therapy programme.
No, okay, we are digging.
Well, it's not only illegal, it's also utterly pointless.
Pointless? Why is it pointless?
The rest of the set to which this brooch belongs
has been traced to a dig on the far side of the city.
Evidently, it was stolen from there,
then dropped by the thief in your bar.
There's no tomb down there, I'm afraid.
Terrific! Thank you. We must do this again, sometime
And given that it's stolen property,
- the brooch is no longer rightfully yours. - But, finders, keepers.
- Oh, now you're into it! - I'm taking it with me, I'm afraid.
Marcus, stop him.
Get your hands off it, you old git, it's ours!
And that's when shit turned nasty.
Nasty? In what way?
Well, the boffin whooped his arse, didn't he?
Strong as an ox, he were, probably from a lifetime of digging.
He knocked him to the floor. Spat on his face.
Stamped on his balls, and Marcus were like,
"No, please, help! I'm so very weedy."
He whooped your arse, did he?
This 70-year-old history professor?
He whooped my arse good. It was an old-school arse-whooping.
Then he picked up the brooch, sorta cackled like a baddie, and said,
"I'm gonna flog it somewhere far off, like Egypt or summat.
"And if you ever breathe a word of this, I'll come back and gut you in your beds."
That's why we ain't told you till now.
And you concur with this?
I can. I can-cur. What's "cur" mean?
- You confirm that this is what happened. - I can.
Yeah. I can-firm that.
Okay. Wait here.
I need to report this to my Super.
I'm taking it with me, I'm afraid.
Marcus, stop him.
Get your hands off it, you old git, it's ours!
No, please, it belongs in a museum!
Future generations need to learn about the past!
- Of course they fucking don't! - Just...
You all right mate?
I doubt it. Bastard's dead.
Dead-i-lus.
Amazingly, your story checks out.
It... Does it?
I mean, yeah. Oh, it would, seeing as it's true.
We got a positive ID on a vehicle belonging to Professor Greco,
parked by the port of Ostia.
And there was a boat ticket bought in his name
first thing this morning to Egypt.
We'll try and catch up with him.
Bring him to justice, but the brooch'll be long gone by then.
Oh, that's a shame. It were a lovely bit of bling, that.
His colleagues insist he's a selfless, passionate, historian.
Well, I guess he fooled us all. Anyway, you're free to go.
I'll let the unlicensed dig fly this time, but don't do it again.
No, no! Definitely not.
And you can take your shitty old coin with you.
And we never talk about this ever again, okay?
We might not talk again, full stop.
And I was tucked up in my bed all night, weren't I, son?
Of course you were, Mum. I'm just a plumber.
I mean, he was wrong about there not being a tomb down there.
I wasn't serious about the witness protection thing, by the way, guys.
I mean, for one thing, my life here is just too damn sweet to give up.
So, obvious question, but what the fuck just happened in there?
I know! How lucky was that?
That his cart was by the port and he got a boat to Egypt after he died.
- That's pretty weird, actually. - Yeah, I sorted it.
What? What do you mean, you "sorted it"?
I figured we'd need a cover story, so I let Landlord keep the brooch
in exchange for his clean-up service.
Moving the boffin's cart, buying a ticket, what have you.
Oh, nice one! That is pretty good thinking.
So, hang on, you've been sitting on that story all along?
Yeah. What's your point?
Well, why didn't you tell her right away,
rather than letting us get interrogated for hours on end?
I were enjoying the biscuits.
Sync and corrections: minouhse www.addic7ed.com