Speaker 1: Hey, Hello, it's another podcast from Mike Bennett. Bloody hell.
Hello listeners, and welcome to this latest episode of Underwood
and Flinch. I hope you're well and in fine fattle
as i am. I have a bit of news for
you today, and well you may want to sit down
for this. Are you ready? It's TV show news, finally,
says you. But I'm afraid it's not good. After what
it's five years for now, Village roachhow TV has not
renewed the option on Underwood and Flinch. The option was
due to be renewed back at the end of November,
but it wasn't. I would have told you this earlier,
but I didn't want to spoil the you know, the
holiday season, Christmas, New Year. But never mind, I'm telling
you now, Okay, I'm all right, I'm fine. I've not
got my head in the gas of and or anything
drastic like that. I mean, it's just life, right, you know.
But anyway, it's not just Underwood and Flinch that got
canceled over at Village road Show. It seems like Village
Road Show itself is going through some serious changes, and
not good ones, As was reported in Variety in December
I'll just read from this is Village road Show about
to take a major detour. The long standing content co
financier and co producer is suffering cash flow issues, multiple
sources told Variety, forcing the shop into bad standing with
the Writers Guild of America and inspiring whispers about its
viability in show business. Majority owned by Vine Alternative Investments,
the company behind valuable library titles like Joker, The Matrix
and Steven Sunderberg's Oceans Franchise, got a shot in the
arm in twenty eight when well liked industry vet Steve
Moscow took over operations sidebar. This was approximately when Underwood
Flinch kind of entered the frame since twenty nineteen, but anyway,
I digress. Steve Moscow took over operations, rebranded as Village
road Show Entertainment Group. Vine's cash kicked off a renewed
sense of purpose internally and ginder up its relationship with
Warner Brothers Pictures. But after major market contractions due to
the twenty twenty three Hollywood labor strikes, the struggle seems
to be real for v REG Village road Show Entertainment Group,
So that kind of puts things into perspective. Doesn't it. Really,
there's trouble at mill, as they say in England, over
at Village road Show, but there's more ladies and gentlemen.
That notice came from December, and I should quote the
writer on that, shouldn't I? That was written by Matt
Donnelly and in Deadline magazine in January of this year,
Patrick Hypes. Right. Steve Moscow, the CEO of Village road
Show Entertainment Group since twenty eighteen, is stepping down. Deadline
has confirmed the news comes amid apparent financial troubles at
the finance and production company's major owner, Vine Alternative Investments,
though Vine did not comment on Moscow's exit Thursday. Moscow
was hired a CEO in twenty eighteen after a twenty
four year career at Sony and sixteen as spt's boss
as a Village looked to push into TV and streaming
and well, anyway, yadda, YadA, yadda, more bad news for
Village Road Show. Unfortunately. Anyway, it is what it is.
It's a pity, of course. I'm sure you were looking
forward to seeing Underwood and Flinch on your television screens.
I know I was, of course, But it's not to
be so. My thanks to the team at Village Road
Show who put together the Underwooden Flinch project as far
as it went, and to the actors who were cast
and the showrunner. And no, before you ask, I cannot
tell you who they were. I'm bound by a confidentiality
clause in the contract I signed that state I can't
tell you anything about the show that wasn't made public
by Village Road Show or their partners in the project.
And since they didn't announce anything about the show, including
who the stars and writer were, I can't either. However,
I will say, and I don't think there's anything wrong
with me saying this, that the actors cast were or
are quite big stars. I'm certainly a fan of them,
and I wouldn't be at all surprised if you were too.
So on that basis alone and knowing the material as
I do, I think the show would have been a
hit had it been made. But anyway, yes, never mind,
let's put it behind a shall we and move on
to this episode of Underwood and Flinch over at Patreon.
This is Underwood Flinch Underground episode thirty seven. You know,
in case you're thinking of going over there and wants
to know where to begin, so you'd need to start
an episode thirty eight. But if you're staying here, well,
obviously this is season six, episode seven, and in it
we rejoin Claire Redmond as she and her boss Charles
Coleridge head down to Hoburn Underground Station in the wake
of the shooting of Guy Valentine and his colleagues. So
let's hop aboard the escalator, shall we, and descend into
Wood and Flinch Season six in Tannibius. Written and performed
for podcast by Mike Bennett. This podcast is intended for
an adult audience. Listener discretion is advised. Episode seven. Claire
Redmond had worked plenty of murder cases. She was used
to the sight of blood, to the aftermath of violence, fury,
and cruelty, But until tonight, she had never had to
face the murder of someone she knew personally. The victims
had always been strangers to her, and as shocking as
their deaths had sometimes been, that lack of any personal
connection to them had always helped her to remain detached, dispassionate,
able to view the tragedy and horror of violent death
as neutrally as she might view it in the other
crime scene, a tableau of stark facts of questions that
it was her job to find answers to now. As
she descended the stairs into Hoburn's station staff area, she
reminded herself of the importance of trying to maintain that
neutrality when confronted with the scene of Guy Valentine's murder.
She and Coleridge had still been in his office at
Metropolitan Police sub headquarters when he had been called with
the news at five police officers had been murdered at
hobin Two of the dead were British Transport Police. The
other three were directly under Coleridge's command, and included the
man who had been sitting in the chair next to
hers a little over an hour ago. She saw again
Valentine holding up his hand to show her his father's ring,
a gesture of solidarity and perhaps even welcome to the
secret police department of which both their fathers had once
been part. She liked him then, despite their rocky start,
and on some levels she'd felt that they were going
to become friends. Now he was dead. In a room
temporarily set aside for the purpose, she and Coleridge donned
the forensic coveralls, gloves, and shoe coverings required for anyone
visiting an active crime scene. When Coleridge removed his jacket,
Claire noticed he was wearing a gun holstered on his
belt in the small of his back. She looked away
before he caught her eye and returned her attention to
the men who were bringing them up to speed on
what had happened. The station's deputy manager, a full bearded
thirty something called Ellis, and the detective who had been
the first to arrive at the scene, a man named Farrell,
whom she had never met before. Ellis was telling them
how the assassins had arrived in a police van and
in police uniform. Sorry, mister Allis, but these uniforms say
they were wearing. They weren't conventional uniforms, were they, said Claire.
We were told they were wearing combat gear. Yeah, said Alis,
You know, the kind of black jumpsuits with the balaclavas,
army helmets and eye goggles. They had police written here
he pointed to his left breast, and in big letters
on their backs. Surely not real, she said to Coleridge.
Rerigan jagged on CCTV, said cole Ridge, Actually we can't, sir,
said Farrell. They disabled and wiped all CCTV before they left.
What that's where the station manager, mister Albert Shari was
when they killed him. Presumably he was sorting Valentine out
with the recordings he would have asked for relating to
the man he was here the question what about external CCTV?
Said Redmond. Have you checked traffic cams, banks, neighboring shops.
Not yet, I've only been here about ten minutes, said Farrell,
A touch defensively. We'll get someone on it straight away,
said Carlin. We need the number plates of the van
they used asap. Mister Ellis, did you personally see the van? No?
But staff who did say it was black with police
written on it, said Redmond. The muscles around Ellis's mouth
tightened a little. Yeah. Look, are you saying that we
made some kind of mistake in thinking that a van
with police on it, full of policemen arriving at the
scene of a crime was a police van. No, sir,
I'm just trying to clarify things. These men must have
been impostors. But there was no way for you to
have known that. Good because christ he shook his head
in despair. How the fuck? Who were they? These men?
Your blokes were interrogating. That's what we're here to find out,
mister Allie, said Carleridge, as he pulled up the hood
of his coveralls. You're ready, Redmond, Yes, sir, right. He
nodded to Farrell. Let's go. They left Ellis and the
changing area, and Farrell led them down towards the sound
of voices and the click and whine of camera flashes.
They turned into the corridor through which the killers had
made their escape, and where forensics officers were now combing
the floor and walls for evidence. Up ahead, through the
milling white bodies of the bunny suited scenes of crime
officers colloquially referred to by the acronym sockos, Redmond caught
stark glimpses of black and red. The red was blood,
the black the uniforms of the dead Transport police officers
Jesus Christ. Redmond murmured, on seeing Coleridge approaching, the sochos
made way as best they could in the narrow space,
and she saw clearly the bodies of the murdered policemen
where they lay outside two open doors. Each man had
a halo of blood around his head. Farrell pointed to
the rooms. These were being used as interrogation rooms by
Valentine and his men, one suspect in each room. These guys,
he indicated, the bodies at their feet posted as guards outside.
Redmond looked into the first room. The only furniture was
a table and two folding chairs. On the table, the
plastic cup stood beside a numbered yellow evidence marker. She
was surprised to see so few signs of a struggle
walking inside, She said, looks like the suspect in this
room didn't put out much of a fight. People can
be very cooperative when someone's pointing a gun at them,
said Coleridge. Yes, but Redmond's attention was on the scene
before her, staring at it as if trying to see
into the past. But what said Coleridge, I don't know.
It's just the cup. It's empty, light as a feather.
But it's upright, so said Farrell. So if the suspect
was sitting here facing the door, as the position of
the cup suggests, the door opens and he sees masked
men pointing guns at him, dead policeman on the floor,
it's shit himself, said Farrell exactly he'd react fight or flight, fear, panic.
I don't know. It's just that cup standing there. I
would have expected it to fallen over. The killers would
have come in to get him, to make sure they
weren't leaving any witnesses behind the door. And all the
time the cup stays upright. The table isn't disturbed in
any way. Maybe he wasn't sitting at the table when
they came in, said Coleridge. Yeah, said Claire, leaning over
the table to look into the coffee dregs at the
bottom of the cup. But even still, there's not much
room to move in here, any kind of altercation, and
that table would surely have been disturbed. Well, he's saying, Redmond,
that the suspect knew these men were coming. Which possibility,
isn't it. Somehow the killers knew these men were here.
How somebody had to have got the information to them.
Maybe it was this guy, Maybe he contacted them before
he was arrested. Hum. Coleridge scratched his chin, then to Farrell, said, Okay,
let's see this other room, yes, sir. As Pharrell exited,
Redmond caught Coleridge by the arm. He turned to her
under her breath, Weary of the soco still in the room,
she asked, Sir is farreloh see you? Coleridge gave a
brief shake of his head and went out. After a moment,
Redmond followed to find Coleridge standing in the doorway of
the next room. She waited for him to go in,
but he remained rooted to the spot. As conversation inside
the room slowly died to silence, then from within came
a familiar voice, that of Regional District Surgeon Bob Jeffreys,
Nsius Coleridge, Christ Charles, I'm sorry. Coleridge stepped inside, and
then it was Redmond's turn to be momentarily paralyzed. Guy
Valentine sat on a plastic chair, his arms hanging at
his sides and his legs splayed out before him. His
head hung back, face to the ceiling, pushing his chest
out as if he were proudly displaying the single bullet
hole and its bloom of blood. On the wall beyond
him was a spatter of blood, unmistakably that of an
exit wound, but it was too high on the wall
and too concentrated to have come from Valentine. Then, as
Claire came into the room, she saw the other men,
one beyond Valentine in the little kitchen area, and no
doubt the source of the spatter on the wall, the
other on the floor just inside the door. Both play
in clothes police. She reasoned, these must be Whitmore and Sloane.
Coleridge had explained their assignment to her in the car
on the way here. Fucking hell, said Coleridge quietly. He
walked silently round the table, not taking his eyes from
Valentine until he was able to fully see Sloan's body
where it lay sprawled behind him in the kitchen area.
What do we know, Bob Jeffreys scratched his head with
a latex gloved finger, point blank range. In the case
of Whitmore, they shot him as he opened the door.
The others were shot from the same spot, one shot
to the head, one to the heart. Bullet casings mostly
in the hall. Nine millimeter rounds sawed machine guns, according
to staff who saw them come and go. No shots heard,
so probably silenced. You know about the station manager? Coleridge nodded.
He and the officers outside were also shot at point
blank range. Jeff continued, Killer's uniforms would have made them
seem like friendly, so they were able to get up
close and personal. But why, said Coleridge, Who were these
men that Whitmore and Sloane arrested. Do we have anything
on them? Jefferies shook his head. All the CCTV was waked.
We've got some ay witnesses among the staff that saw
that initial chase through the station. See idea conducting interviews
as we speak, and we're confident we'll be able to
lift Prince and DNA from these two rooms they were
held in. What about the third suspect, said Coleridge when
he called in. Sloane said Whitmore was chasing two men,
and a third bit be chasing him. If we had
two in custody, where's the third man, don't ask me.
Jeffries looked at Farrell, who could only scratch his head.
Seems he got away. Most likely made it down in
time to catch a train. According to records, one left
the platform around the time they got down here. First
guy called it, the others didn't, so they had their
little taser high noon instead. But we have eyewitnesses who
saw him. Yeah, well that's something. Coleridge looked around at
his dead men and shook his head. Jesus Christ, this
is a Soco walked past, brushing against him while trying
to avoid bodies and items of tagged evidence. We're in
the way here, said Coleridge. We should give these people
a room to do their job. Pharrell, carry on until
Falcon bridges the id. Get here, Bob, is there someplace
quiet we can talk. Jeffreys considered a moment, then shrugged,
well kind of. He led them outside and down the corridor.
They stopped outside two doors. One bore the Machtick symbol
of a man, the other of a woman. This is
all there is. Take your pick. Coleridge pushed open the
door to the gent's toilet and they went inside. It
was a small room with two urinals and one The
air was pungent with the smell of urine and disinfectant.
Once the door was closed behind them, Coleridge said, all right,
First things first, Bob, I've just recruited Redmond into the OCU. Oh.
Jeffreys began, apparently delighted with this news, but Coleridge went
on without pause. She's not official yet, Jeffrey's mouth clammed shut,
but she knows what we're up against here. Jeffries nodded,
I see well, I can't say I'm surprised that hack
and slash job on the victim we found in the
skip didn't fool you for a moment, did it. Redmond
Claire was surprised to hear this, So you knew that
was a vampire bite on her neck? Hi, but only
about ten seconds before you arrived. I hadn't even had
time to call it into him yet, But as soon
as you were gone, I was on the phontam straight away.
She knows, Charles, I said that Redmund is her father's daughter,
and noor mistake. It's in the jeans. Save it for
another day. Oh, Bob, this isn't the time, and it's
certainly isn't the place. We're up against something the likes
of which London hasn't seen for generations. Not one, but
three o CU agents massacred, five coppers in all, taken
out with ruthless efficiency, and not to mention the civilian christ.
He covered his eyes with his hand. The press are
going to have a field day. Who who the fuck
are we dealing with, Bob? I don't know, sir, said
Jeffreys gravely. This pulls the rug from under everything we've
assumed so far. First we're thinking it's one vampire, then two,
Now it's god knows how many. But are you certain
this is vampire activity? Said Claire. I know I'm mute
to this unit, so forgive me if that's a stupid question.
But where's the proof. We don't know who those men were.
They could have had mob connections for all we know.
It's too much of a coincidence, Redmond said Coleridge. I
told you on the way here that Whitmore and Sloan
were telling the journalist who broke the story, and how
he and the guy he met were discussing this case
and talking about the Mallius. You think that's just a
random coincidence. No, no, I see that, But how does
it fit with what we actually know to be fact?
We know about Lydia? She was asking me about the
church murder, so she's lightly behind the other one, the
body and the skip, and that makes her the more
organized of the two, but only barely. And nothing about
her gave me the impression that she could have pulled
off something like this. More to the point, why would
she Jeffreys held up her hand to call a halt. Wait,
who's lydia vampire led Redmond into a trap and fascinated her,
said Coleridge. I deprogrammed her a short while ago. I'll
see you get a report. Bloody hell. Jeffreys looked back
and forth between Coleridge and Clare. Why, I mean, to
what purpose? Why Edmond? She thought Redmond was still heading
up the case, and when she found out she wasn't,
she programmed her to find out all she could from
Valentine and then report it back to her. Then he
remembered something that had slipped his mind since learning of
the hobe and shooting to Claire. He said, shit, she's
going to call you, isn't she tonight. Claire, who had
also forgotten, nodded, yes she did. She took out her
phone and checked it, but there were no missed calls
and she hasn't called not yet anyway, Or maybe she's
been busy, said Jefferys. If she was behind this, she
certainly has been yet. But that's what I'm saying, said Claire.
I don't think she is. That's not based on any evidence.
It's just my gut feeling. She wanted to know what
Valentine was up to, but not to kill him. I mean,
if that's what she wanted, she could have programmed me
to do it, couldn't she. Well maybe that changed when
she found out Valentine had her men under arrest, said Coleridge.
Your own theory has one of them calling for help
before they were arrested. So Lydia found out about it
and mobilized her people people ay, said Jeffries. Vampires often
have all kinds of people helping them, and I'm not
talking about fascinated people like you. I'm talking about willing helpers. Well,
the only person I saw helping Lydia was a woman
in the fifties, and the pair of them looked about
as capable of organizing something like this as they would
have moon Landing's not her. And it's like I said,
said Jeffries, we don't know how many vampires were up
against here. It doesn't have to be your Lydia or
the other suspected London vampire. There could be another Christ.
There could be dozens, yes, but it could equally have
been a mob thing, said Redmond. All right, colraj intervened
one thing. We do know over sure this wasn't the
work of some new born rogue and for the sake
of argument. That's also except Redmond's feeling that Lydia isn't
capable of organizing it either, So what does that leave us?
To recruit a team of professional assassins to do a
job like this takes time, planning and a ton of money.
But this, this whole thing from Whitmore and Sloan's initial
sighting of the suspects to the blood bath next door,
took only a matter of hours or so. They weren't
hired for this particular job, said Jeffreys. They were ready
to go at a moment's notice. But that's not possible, surely,
said Redmond. That would mean they were either a private
army or or real police. The thought almost made her laugh.
And that's definitely not possible. One bent copper is one thing,
but a team of them ready to gun down colleagues
at a moment's notice. She noticed that this caused Coleridge
and Jeffreys to exchange a look as if each were
silently posing her question to the other. That is ridiculous, right,
tell me, that's ridiculous. Of course it's ridiculous, said Coleridge.
So more likely than its organized crime, they could easily
have had the hardware ready, guns, armor, None of it's
hard to get if you have the right connections and
black vans just a black. Coleridge listened, but his face
showed he was finding it hard to accept. Redmond, what
mob do you know of that would be crazy enough
to do something like this? I mean, if these suspects
had been high profile mob figures, then maybe someone would
have gone to such an extent. But these guys were,
by all accounts nothing special. If they had been high
profile mobsters, Slowan for one would have known it. He
was local Thames Valley. He shook his head. No, but
your comment about a private army is more in line
with my thinking. A vampire with many human helpers, and
among them people who could pull off a prisoner extraction
like this at short notice. Now that's not the territory
of someone new to this. That suggests a long and
well established operation an immortal, said Jeffreys. Coleridge nodded, could
be Redmond frowned. Aren't all vampires immortal? Ay? That might
be what it says on the tin, said Jeffreys, but
most of them don't get to actually achieve it. Yes,
thanks to the Malias, said Coleridge. He turned to Claire.
The immortals is a term we used to use for
the oldest vampires, those who had managed to stick around
for centuries until we finished them off. Part of the
secret of their longevity was often to have a network
of human helpers. They could have dozens of these helpers
in different towns and cities, sometimes even in different countries.
But over the years, the Malleus tracked all the immortals down,
and one by one we destroyed them. He looked at Jeffreys,
or so we believed, Christ on a bike said Jeffries.
An org what original gangster they see it in America.
It's a rap thing. You mean music. Yeah, if we're
dealing with an immortal, they'd be like a vampire or
g Not caring for Coleridge's to proving expression, Jeffries waved
a hand dismissively. I forget it. I was just thinking
olk load. Redmond said, so do you think one of
these immortals may have survived? Much as I don't like it,
I think it's a distinct possibility. Yes, said carle Ridge.
So do you have a list of possible suspects? Well, no,
that's what I'm saying Claire, the Mallly has killed everyone
on the list. So whoever this is, if indeed it
is an immortal, it's someone who wasn't on the list.
Bloody hell, said Jeffries. He went to bite a fingernail,
but on tasting latex glove crossed his arms across his chest,
hugging himself. So it's someone who's managed to evade detection
for possibly hundreds of years, said Redmond. Possibly, yes, said
Carle Ridge. Now I don't know. We're going to have
to go over case files. As he said it, the
enormity of the task hit him. He put a hand
to his head. Oh god, we're going to need more people.
What about Heinrich Volkman, Sir, said Claire. Coleridge frowned. Volkman, Yes,
the vampire you said killed my father. You didn't say
what happened to him. Coleridge seemed to take a second
to process this, as though he were searching his mental
case files. Oh, he was hunted down. The Malius got
him in Germany. Though. You said he spoke with an
American accent. Yes, so he probably learned English in America.
I think unusual in that. No, I just wondered if
perhaps he had actually been an American. I'm sorry, Claire,
we don't know any of his biographical details. Volkman wasn't
taken alive and interrogated. The vampires really are I see.
Coleridge turned back to Jeffreys. All right, well, thanks, Bob,
I'll let you get back to work. Our people from
Falconbridge will be here any minute to take over from
the regular SOCOs. DC Mackay is going to debrief them
and make sure they all know this one's top secret. Obviously,
when you're done, the bodies taken to Falconbridge, Sir, said Redmond,
what you were saying about going over old case files. Yes,
we're going to need a lot more people, but I
don't want you on that, Redmond. You need to get
some sleep. You can catch up with Mackay in the morning. No,
that's not what I was going to say, Sir. I
remember you told me that some OCU case files had
gone missing. You asked me if maybe I had them,
if my dad had taken them. Ah, yes, what about them?
Well do you know what was in them? No, they
were christ It was so long ago. Now. They came
from various time periods, going all the way back to
the foundation of the Malus and the OCU. So might
it be possible then that the information we're looking for
about this immortal is in those files That would explain
why the missing Immortal isn't on your list. Fucking hell,
said Jeffries. And or gee that managed to infiltrate Falconbridge
and take everything we had on him. Will you stop
saying O G said Coleridge. We're not in the bloody hood, sorry, sir,
but what Edmond's saying makes a horrible kind of sense,
doesn't it. Yes, I'm afraid it does. We're going to
have to go over all the historical data we have
with a fine tooth comb. He probably took files relating
to him directly, those where the title names him, or
crimes that he was responsible for, but not necessarily those
that mention him indirectly. There has to be references to
him in the database that he doesn't know about, and
we have to find them, assuming it is a he
said Redmond, Yes, obviously, Coleridge snapped, pardon me for not
using the gender neutral pronoun that doesn't bloody exist. I'm sorry, sir,
I just wanted to point out I know what you
wanted to point out Redmond, but it wasn't necessary. I
may be old, but I'm not a total ass. Sorry, sir, Yes,
well you just forget about it, and you're right, of
course you are. He sighed and rubbed his face with
his hands. God, it's been a long and terrible day.
I need to get some sleep, and I know you
definitely do. Redmond. In the morning, I want you to
report directly to Falconbridge and liaise with Anna McKay. She
had just been assigned to work with Valentine on the
London Van by a case, but now he's well, now
it's your case again, so she'll be your DC. Do
you know her? Claire did, and she didn't like her.
Mackay was in her late twenties, an attractive bottle blonde
who played along with her male colleagues occasional sexist banter
when she should have been reporting it, and from what
Redmond had heard, she was none too diligent to copper either.
But when your dad is a sitting member of the
Metropolitan Police Board. She stopped herself from going down that
line of thought and said, yes, sir, may I ask
does she have actual experience of MS No, it's the
first time she's been called up, but her old man's
oh see you, as was her grandfather. Redmond nodded and
gave a non committal shrug. What well, she wouldn't be
my first choice, sir, Can I suggest we also call
up my ds Larry Beck. I've worked with Larry for
a long time. We have a good chemistry. He'll often
see things that I'm miss and vice versa. You know
how it is. He's not o ceu Redmond. We've been
recruiting some new non descendant people, but they're exceptional. Larry's exceptional, Sir,
just check his record. Yes, I don't doubt he is.
But perhaps it was residual annoyance from their spat a
moment before. But Coleridge abruptly seemed to lose patience. Damn it,
Detective Inspector, you're working with Mackay and that's an end
to it? Do I make myself clear? Claire, who was
inwardly fuming at this outburst, swallowed hard and said, yes, sir,
good now, let's get out of this fucking bog, shall we.
He pushed past her and out of the toilet. Claire
went after him. So what about Lydia? Coleridge stopped in
the corridor, his back to her. Jesus, I yes, yes,
of course, he turned back to her. I'll arrange for
someone from Falconbridge to come home with you. They can
keep guard while you sleep and monitor your phone in
case she calls. But Lydia doesn't know where I live.
You don't know that Redmond. Falconbridge should be here any minute.
If they're not here already, I can assign someone to
you then. And no, not Mackay, before you say anything,
I need her here, Thank you, sir. And what do
I do if Lydia does call? Don't worry. Whoever comes
back with you will know what to do. Oh okay.
Coleridge could see that she wasn't entirely convinced. He sighed
and unzipped his coveralls. Then, reaching inside and behind his back,
he drew out his gun. He came back and handed
it to her. Here take this. Normally we would have
issued you with your own as soon as you joined us,
but today, he shook his head wearily. I don't need
to tell you, do I? But look this'll keep you safe.
It's a Smith and Wesson M and P shield. I've
been carrying it since this ship storm started. But what
about you if I've got your gun. Oh, don't worry,
I've got another one in the car and another at home,
he smiled. I should make it till morning. Claire looked
at the gun. Does it have I don't know, silver bullets,
Coleridge chuckled. No, just regular rounds. Just be sure to
shoot her in their head if it comes to it.
If you hit her anywhere else, she won't go down
and her wounded flesh will start to heal. But if
you get her in the head he tapped the middle
of his forehead, and preferably more than once, that'll stop her.
If the vampire brain can't direct its healing process, if
it's had a couple of holes blasted through it. Oh
and if you do shoot her in the head, said
Bob Jeffries, coming up behind her to rejoin them. Follow
up with the couple to the heart as well, that'll
kill her. It's the historical double tap. The old European
peasants used to stake him through the heart and cut
off their heads. But the invention of the gun has
made things an awful lot easier. Really, it's that easy,
said Redmond. Oh fuck me, Lassie, said Jeffries with a chuckle.
It's not easy, not by a long chalk. These bastards
are fast. Redmond looked to Coleridge, suddenly anxious. Sir, He
gave her a tired smile. You will be fine, Claire.
You're going to be in safe hands. Don't worry. I'm
not worried. I'm just Claire considered the gun, bobbing it
in her hands and feeling its reassuring weight. When she
looked up, she smiled, but there was no hiding her anxiety. Yeah,
I'll be fine, will Lydy you'll be paying a late
night visit on Inspector Redmond? Or will it just be
a friendly phone call. We'll find out in time, because
the night is still young in Underwood and Flinch Underground.
So there we are. That was season six, episode seven,
and I hope you enjoyed it. Now. Last time I
asked you if you had any TV recommendations that you
would like to share with the other listeners, and if
you did, could you please leave them in the comments
at Spotify, which some of you did. Someone else did
message me using some other medium, and I do apologize,
but I can't find that message anywhere so I'm afraid
I can't read it here. However, I did reply to it,
you know, just in case you think I'm a complete bounder.
But yeah, sorry to that person. The problem is, you know,
these days, there are just so many places to leave
messages and so many things to send them with that
it's hard to keep up with it all, isn't it?
You know? However, the one place you can definitely reach
me is Blue Sky, where I'm Mike Bennett dot bsky
dot Social That app at least at the time of
me recording this is still simple. You message me and
I see it. Oh for simpler days, A Listeners, I
feel like Gart Williams in the Twilight Zone episode A
Stop at Willoughby. Do you know that one? It's my
absolute favorite. I've seen it about a million times because
I've always, you know, most of my adult life been
Gart Williams. I'm going to get off. I'm going to
get off at Willoughby, I've always said. But not today, listeners. No, Instead,
let's stay on the train and hear your TV recommendations.
In this exciting installment of have your say, Okay, so
diethy or Deity. I'm not sure how you pronounced that dithy,
I recommend Murdoch Mysteries and Chelmsford one two three. Now
you may not be familiar with those shows, so I'm
googling them for you. Okay. So the Murdoch Mysteries, Detective
William Murdoch of the Toronto Constabulary and his team investigate
the gruesome killings and murders using the most sophisticated techniques
that were unheard of in the late eighteen nineties. So
the you are, that's the Murdoch Mysteries and Chelmsford one
two three is a Channel four UK Channel four series,
a comedic take on the undignified power struggles that took
place between a Roman general and a British tribal leader
in the ancient city of Chelmsford. So that's that. Then,
Breg Bennett says, I went to the movies and saw
the new Wolfman movie. Good movie, but it is someone
else's take and I was not expecting that. The important
thing I realized is to watch the movie with an
open mind and enjoy what they did. Very gory and
good production. That sounds good to me, but was expecting
a story more like the original. That being said, it
is a different take on the Wolfman and I liked it.
I was just surprised. So there we are. Not a lot,
not a lot at all, But thank you to those
two listeners who did contribute. We have what's on my
TV and also what I saw at the cinema, which
is nice as for me, and what's been on my
TV lately. I am totally loving season two of Severance,
having watched the first season three times now, I watched
it twice during the hiatus while I was waiting for
the second season to begin. I was super psyched for
it and I have not I'm happy to say, been disappointed.
Season two has been fantastic so far. We just saw
episode four last night and I thought it was one
of the best hours of television I've ever seen. So
if you're not watching Severance on Apple TV, I do
thoroughly recommend it. And if you don't have Apple TV,
I think it's worth getting, you know, at least for
a while so you can see all the great shows
that they've got there. We also loved Servant on Apple
from Night shamal Aan. We thought that was a really
good series and it's off and overlooked. You know, the
app doesn't really push it at you, but yeah, servant
check it out and Silo. Though here I limit my
enthusiasm to season one. Season two, which was recently released,
I found to be a disappointment. Again. I was really
looking forward to it, but it just didn't work for me.
You know. There were good bits in it, of course,
but there was, in my opinion, a lot of bloat
in there too, you know, like padding, bulking agent. But yeah,
that's just my opinion. You may love it, I don't know,
but anyway, that's it from me for now, my friends. Again,
sorry to have been the bearer of bad tidings regarding
the Underwood and Flinch television show. I wish it could
have been better news. I wish it could have been
made and have been aired on our televisions by now.
But as they say, shit happens, and this is a
case of shit happening unfortunately. But at least we still
have this a this podcast, this book, the original and
now the one and only Underwood and Flinch, and there
is no chance of this being canceled anytime soon. Can
I get a haza? Thank you? And so that brings
us to the end of the show. Listeners There's nothing
left for me to say except The music on the
podcast was Ahmad Ahma by Farried Fadjad, courtesy of Tarnay
Records and our good friend Fabah's al Maloud. You can
stream the track from Spotify and all the other good
streamers out there. I look forward to being back in
your ears again next month, but from me for now,
until the moon rises again over Underwood and Flinch, take
care and farewell.