Rembrandt Doesn't Live Here Anymore

Terry takes a job as a security guard in an art gallery, which is all the excuse Arthur needs. Other people see paintings. Arthur sees a price tag he can do something about. He finds an artist who can turn out old masters good enough to fool anyone with a cheque book, and for a while it looks like the best scheme Arthur has ever put his name to. The gallery job was supposed to be the quiet one. But a crooked art dealer gets wind of it and decides he wants in. Arthur ends up with a partner he never chose.

The blackmail is the engine of the episode. Arthur can't go to the police and can't call it off. The dealer treats the operation like his own personal pension. Meanwhile Terry stands in the gallery watching the punters, the only one in the building doing honest work. The old friendship-and-greed tension is there, but the setting gives it a fresh coat of paint, with a stripper and a male dancer on the guest list. The art world, it turns out, is no more respectable than the car lot, just better lit.

Dave Humphries and Leon Griffiths wrote it, Tom Clegg directed. George Sewell is Frank, Patricia Quinn is Monica, Ewan Hooper is Rory Quinn, Paul Gregory is the dealer, John Tordoff is Max, Steve Alder is Kevin, and Candy Davis and Roy Pannell are the entertainment. George Sewell as Frank is a reminder of how much weight a good guest actor adds. Dennis Waterman and George Cole hold the middle as ever.

The title is the whole pitch. The old masters are gone, and the only art left in town is Arthur's. Arthur would deny it, but he fits right in with the art crowd. Nobody in it is respectable, least of all the art.