All language subtitles for A The Unholy Four (1954) Drama, Mystery, Film Noir _ Full Length Movie auto

- Subtitles -
Lu�s Filipe Bernardes

Hello, old boy, you didn't forget,
did you, huh?

No, I'm afraid Mrs. Vickers isn't in
at the moment.

Yes, I'll speak to her and ring you
back in the morning.

Yes, of course I'll...

Hello, Joan.

- Where's Angie?
- Philip!

But...

Where have you been,
what's happened to you?

Where's Angie?

She's not here, she's down
at the river cottage.

I see.

Still the same crowd, the same parties?

Are my things still upstairs?

Philip, why didn't you let us know?

And spoil the surprise?

Get yourself a drink, Joan,
you look awful.

Oh and, Joan, don't ring Angie,
do you understand?

I'm going down there myself.

They will be surprised, won't they, boy?

Well, hello, Harry.

It'll be nice to know what your car's
doing in my wife's garage.

- Seen Angie around?
- Angie?

Angie Vickers, she's giving this party.

I haven't seen Angie for a long time.

I'll tell you a secret.
You look for Job Crandall,

Bill Saul and Harry Brice
She'll be there.

Will she?
Will she really?

Come on, darling, let's dance.

Well, handsome, where'd you come from?

Listen, Crandall, I'll give you
48 more hours to think it over.

And you know what will happen if you
don't come to the right conclusion.

If I get one more threat
out of you, I'll...

Hello, Job... Sessions.

Vick!
We thought you were dead.

No, I'm alive.

But... when did you...

Now that I've found my business manager
and chief accountant together,

how is the old firm?

Well, naturally we've taken care of
everything while you've been gone.

Business has improved,
nearly one third.

Fine... the you won't need
me back for a while.

Seen Angie around?

Not... not since I first arrived.

Thanks.

Now perhaps you'll change your mind.

- Turn around, Bill.
- Go away, will you?

- I said turn around...
- Hey, what do you think...

Say hello, Bill, welcome me home.

Vickers.

Thank you, Bill.

Now maybe you can tell me
where Angie is.

No... no!

All right.

I'll see you later, Bill.

Well... are you gonna talk?

When I get good and ready.

In that case, I'll save my
questions till later.

Anyway, it's good to see
you back, Vick.

This is gonna be fun.

You always did have a weird
sense of humor.

At least I have one,
which is more than you can say.

- Unless...
- Unless what?

Unless you've acquired one
in your travels...

...along with that scar.

You've changed, Vick.

Changed a lot.

Which do you think you prefer, Bill?

You weren't very fond of the
old Vick, as I recall it.

I don't like people very much.

Not even the people I like.

I can use about four
gallons of that.

Help yourself.

- He's not talking.
- But... after four years.

We never even knew whether you
were alive or dead.

You just walk in, not a word to anybody
and scare the living daylights...

I wonder if either of you made
this much fuss when I disappeared.

Anyone seen Harry?

Um, Jenny, this is Mr. Philip Vickers.

Vick, this is Jenny, who I'm afraid
is not as bright as a penny.

- Hello, Jenny.
- Hello to you.

Say, and by the way,
where is Harry?

Vick.

Tell us, what did happen to you?

You were with me, Job.
You and Bill, and Harry Brice.

Perhaps you'd like to tell me
what happened.

Sit down, everybody.

- What are you having for breakfast?
- But Vick...

I said, what are you having
for breakfast?

Ham and eggs, that's always easy.

Sit down, Job.

Hi, that sounds good!

Who's the good Samaritan?

Well...

Oh, Vick...

Oh, Vick, I knew you'd come back!

- Hello, Angie.
- Hello, Vick, hello, hello!

Vick, what happened to you?
Tell me.

What did they say happened to me,
my friends, Job, Harry and Bill?

They didn't know, they wired me from
Portugal that you'd disappeared.

Why didn't you send word to me,
why didn't you tell me?

Tell you what? For three years
I didn't even know my own name.

Am... amnesia?

Yes.

Amnesia.

One night we anchored in a small
Portuguese harbor.

I'd had one highball aboard the boat...

But when we went to shore,
I was very, very drunk.

I don't know where we went,
what we did, or who went with me.

But I do remember a man's voice...

...saying, "Turn around, Vickers."

"I've waited a long time for this. I want
to watch your face as you go down."

I suppose I remember those
words because...

...even when you're drunk you remember
a sentence of death.

I don't know what hit me or how long
it was before I came to.

But when I did, I was aboard
a Mexican tramp.

With nothing in my pocket
to tell me who I was...

...and nothing in my head either.

Except a big hole.

Vick.

Maybe now you can understand why I didn't
write once I'd recovered my memory.

You see, a corpse doesn't write to his
executioner and say, "I'm coming back".

Of course this is a big surprise
to you, isn't it?

Not really, it...
it's what I'd been afraid of.

Afraid one of them had killed me?

Afraid, Angie?

Or glad?

Oh, Vick.

- You haven't changed a bit.
- But they're here.

You couldn't have been that afraid.

For four years I've been trying
to find out what happened to you!

Hey, Vick!

Vick!

What is it?

Vick, they found Harry.

He's dead.

It's crazy. We were on the
terrace, all of us.

We were talking about Harry,
wondering where he was.

And then he just seemed to float right out
from under the landing.

I crawled down...
- He must have got caught underneath.

But how did it happen?

You mean who made it happen.

He was our friend, Vick,
it must have been accidental.

We were all friends in Portugal, Job.

- All four of us.
- What's Portugal got to do with it?

Nothing, maybe. Maybe a lot.

You'd better go call the police.

And ring Joan Merrill, tell her she'd better
come down to the cottage.

All right.

You said it was going to be fun.

About that sense of humor of yours.

I'm beginning to like it even
less than mine.

Nobody even said they were sorry.

Are you sorry, Vick?

I don't know yet.

Vick.

Did you see Harry last night?

Did I, Bill?

Were you with Harry
last night, Angie?

Yes. But only for a moment.

He was very unpleasant. I told him
to go away and he did.

Were you down there, Vick?

A leading question, but yes, I was.

I saw you going aboard the boats.
There was no sign of Harry then.

Just his cigarette case.

I found it in the boathouse.

Why did you take the boat out, Angie?

I wanted to get away.

Hm.

I wouldn't tell the police that
if I were you.

Then I won't tell them you
were there either.

Do you think I killed him, Angie?

Well, perhaps you heard his voice and it was
the same one that you heard in Portugal.

Yes.

Perhaps four years ago
you said to Harry,

"You're going on a long cruise
with my husband.

If by chance anything permanent should
befall him, I should be most grateful"

I hope for your sake, Angie,

the police have a different theory.

What do you think, doc?

Look at that.
See the shape of the wound?

- A round lacerated area here.
- Uh-huh.

The skull is splintered underneath.

Looks to me like a bar or pipe
with a lump at one end.

- Do you think he was hit?
- Sure he was hit, and hard too.

- Could he have done it falling?
- He could have done.

If he did, he went to a lot of trouble
to knock his brains out.

If he had any. He doesn't look any
too bright.

Men in his condition seldom do.

Check two things particularly.

Could he have done it falling,
and could a woman have done it.

An active woman in good condition.
The sort that sails boats and things.

Oh, women, they're getting too capable
for their own good these days.

Hey, doc, come over here.

- He doesn't seem to have bled a lot.
- He wouldn't with that kind of wound.

Oh.

Then if he was murdered, the killer probably
wouldn't have got any blood on him.

Hmm. Looks as though he lay down for
a few minutes and then got up.

It's amazing sometimes how long a chap
can live with his skull smashed in.

Then I suppose he fell over the edge.

Somebody might at least have
stepped in that puddle...

...so we'd have a nice, handy blood-stained
shoeprint to check on.

Not even a sign of a track.

Oh well, they told me detecting
wasn't easy.

It's my own fault.

I'm afraid accidents like this
don't just happen.

Of course there's a faint possibility that he
struck his head in falling from the landing,

we'll know that after the autopsy.

But who'd want to murder Harry,
he was always such a... such a nice guy.

Go to sleep, doll.
That's for the inspector to find out.

Now, exactly what happened
here last night.

There was a party.

Uh-huh.

What time did you arrive, Mr. Vickers?

I got here about midnight.

I wasn't focusing too good by then.

And what about Harry Brice, what did he do,
where was he, who was he with?

I don't know about the rest of them,
but I didn't see him all night.

Angie brought him down.
I came with some other people.

Harry and I had a fight.

A fight?

The story of our friendship, Inspector,
one long, happy fight.

I didn't care, of course, but...

I didn't think it looked right for him
to be spending so much time with Angie...

...while he was supposed to be
engaged to me.

So, of course he went right
over to Angie's...

...and that's the last I saw
of him all night.

He was making a nuisance
of himself, Inspector.

I drove him down in my car because
he was in no condition to drive himself.

- But his car is here.
- I drove it down.

I see.

You've been missing for four years,
haven't you, Mr. Vickers?

Yes.

As I recall it, you vanished during a
fishing cruise in Portuguese waters.

Harry Brice and these two gentlemen
were with you.

What happened?

I can see the question is going
to get monotonous.

This happened.

I went to shore one night
and was knocked on the head.

Result amnesia and four rather
unpleasant years.

Assault and robbery?

Something like that.

You've certainly kept the news
quiet, Mrs. Vickers.

There was nothing to keep quiet.
I sent no word that I was coming.

Do you think your sudden return might have
any bearing on what happened?

What bearing could it possibly have?

I've no idea. That's why I asked you.

One other thing. I want everything
in this house left just as it is.

That means wearing apparel,
personal effects, the works.

They will be returned to you
as soon as we're through.

I assume that none of you are wearing
the clothes you had on last night.

Except me. I can't let you have them now,
I'd feel so conspicuous.

All right, but don't have them
cleaned or brushed.

I'll send a man to the house to pick them up.
That goes for shoes, socks, the lot.

Mrs. Vickers, would you be kind enough
to let me have a guest list,

everyone who was here last night?

Yes.
Would you do that for me, Joan?

- May I drive you home, Miss?
- Well, who am I to argue with the law?

You know, that was quite a party.

You'll be hearing from us, Mr. Vickers.

We'd be most unhappy if we didn't,
Inspector.

And now, if you don't mind,
you can all leave.

And while you're at it, start covering
up tracks and rehearsing alibis.

Somebody is going to need a good one.

Turn around, Vickers. Turn around, Vickers.
Turn around, Vickers.

Turn around, Vickers. Turn around, Vickers.
Turn around, Vickers.

Turn around, Vickers!

Hello, old chap.

- Hello, do you want to go out?
- Never mind, I'll do it.

Good morning, Philip.

- Any coffee left?
- Yes, I think so.

I'm just trying to finish that list
of guests for the inspector.

Joan, how would you like to go
down to the cottage for a while?

I don't understand.

Angie and I have a lot of years to make
up for, we want to be alone.

If the cottage doesn't appeal
to you, choose a hotel.

I'd suggest a trip somewhere
if it weren't for the police.

If you want to get rid of me, Philip,
why don't you just say so?

- All right, I say so.
- What about Angie?

If you must know the truth,
I haven't discussed it with her.

You mean you're just pushing me out.

Let's call it a vacation.

Even social secretaries need vacations
once in a while.

Anyway, the social season's over,
I'm afraid.

I'll let Angie tell me.

Angie is still asleep, I'm telling you.

That's the way it's going to be, Joan.

I've called for a taxi.

Run along.

- I see you've thought of everything.
- I've tried to.

Even my suitcase.

I'll send the rest of your
things on later.

Well, at least let me go and get
my handbag.

It's in the case. I put a check in it.
Let me know when you want more.

- Wherever she wants to go.
- Very good, sir.

- Hi.
- Hi.

I'm starved.

Here's your orange juice.

- It smells so good.
- Now go and sit down until it's ready.

The house is so quiet this morning,
I haven't seen Joan.

She isn't here.

What?

I sent her away for a vacation.
She's earned it.

I sent the servants too.

But I don't understand.

Why would you do such a thing?

Things have to be worked out.

We've got to be alone.

I'm going to phone her.

- Breakfast is ready.
- The phones don't work.

I know, I cut off the extensions.
Use the one in my den.

Your den is locked.

Is it?

That's funny, I must have done it
without thinking.

Why do you want me in alone the house
with the only phone in a locked room?

Because I want to stay alive.

Someone tried to kill me last night,
they may try again.

Perhaps Harry Brice knew who it was that
time in Portugal, that's why he's dead.

Whoever it is wants you free
of me pretty bad.

If they think you're in any possible danger,
they'll try to get me one way or another.

Well, then call the police,
let them help you.

I need your help, Angie.

I want that somebody to get the impression
that I've gone a little mad.

That I've deliberately locked you off
from all touch with the past.

Or perhaps I even intend
to kill you.

Now do you understand?

Then why doesn't Angie call me?
There are telephones all over the house.

I've tried repeatedly, but I can't
get any answer.

I'm afraid, Inspector.

He's got her alone in that house
and I'm frightened.

Then I think you'd better sit down
and tell me why.

Don't be afraid to say anything you want,
Miss Merrill, I'm here to listen.

Inspector, I think Philip Vickers
killed Harry Brice.

Why?

Because Harry was in love with
Philip's wife.

Was Mrs. Vickers in love
with Harry Brice?

No. I almost wished she had been.

But you're not sure that Vickers
believes that.

I'm only sure of one thing, he's got
her there alone in that house.

And who knows what may have happened
to him mentally during the past four years?

A blow on the head which destroyed his
memory could have done so much more.

Yes...

Did Mrs. Vickers ever mention
that perhaps...

...Mr. Vickers' disappearance was
not accidental?

She once said that she wondered
whether it could have been murder.

- What do you think?
- I wouldn't have cared if it was.

He always treated her shamefully.
Never once considered her feelings.

But I can't imagine any one
of those three killing someone.

They're just not the kind of people
who commit murders.

I wish I had a week's holiday with pay
for every time I heard that.

I wouldn't have to work
again till 1994.

Now you get some rest, Miss Merrill
and let us do the worrying.

Thank you, Inspector.

- Oh, Miss Merrill.
- Yes?

Wasn't your father financially involved
in the corporation...

...that was bankrupted by
Mr. Vickers' company?

And didn't he take his own life
shortly afterwards?

If it wasn't for Philip Vickers,
my father would be alive today.

- Is that all, Inspector?
- Yes, that's all, Miss Merrill.

Treherne here.

This is Johnson, sir, we've found
the murder weapon, I think.

You have? What is it?

It's a short length of inch-metal
piping drilled and bolted at one end.

The water's washed it clean of course,
the surface is no good for prints.

Uh-huh.

- Could a woman have used it?
- Oh, yes, not too heavy for a woman, sir.

Okay, keep at it.

I suppose you want to hear my story about
what happened on the fatal night.

If you have one.

Sure, I've got two or three,
which one do you want to hear?

Oh, the one you think will keep
me from breathing...

...my hot little breath down your neck.

There was quite a mob around. Somebody put
some atomic energy in my cocktail.

I don't remember anything after
Vickers arrived.

Vickers was sober when you saw him.

Oh, yeah, Vick didn't drink.

Not what you call drinking.

But he was drunk that night in Portugal.

Everybody slips up with it some time.

Eight on the nine.

Did Harry Brice have any enemies?

No, no, Harry was a good boy.

Nobody could dislike Harry.

What about Vickers?

Oh, him you could dislike.

Who hit Vickers over the head?

I thought you'd get around
to asking me that.

I don't know. And if I did know,
I wouldn't tell you.

Uh-huh.

Like that.

Look, it could have been anybody.
It could have been Harry,

could have been Job Crandall,
maybe even me.

On the other hand he could have been taken
by anybody, just the ordinary thing...

His watch, his money.

Then those silly ideas blew through
that hole on his head.

I don't know.

But what I do know is...

I wish he didn't have Angie
up there all alone.

Worried?

Hello.

Yes.

Inspector Treherne, just a minute,

Hello.

Oh, that's you, Johnson.

Got something else for you, Inspector.

A man's handkerchief, an expensive one,
too, with the initial "V" in one corner.

It's got streaks of what looks
like rust on it...

...and something else that looks
like blood.

Not bad, Johnson.

Rush it to the lab and tell them I want
a report on it right away but quick.

Something new?

Maybe, you never know.

- What's the news, Brownie?
- Nothing.

Only some reporters came,
went away mad.

But nobody's been inside the house
or come out of it...

...since the Merrill woman and
the servants left this morning.

Okay, driver.

It gets awful cold out here
at night, Inspector.

There's a chill comes up that
just bites your...

I'll see you get some long ones
sent out to you, Brownie.

Okay.

Yeah, thanks.

Now, Mrs. Vickers, when was the last
time you saw Harry Brice?

About 10:30 or 11:00, then I lost
him in the mob.

And about midnight you took
the boat out.

I suppose it was about that time,
I didn't notice really.

And you saw your wife leave.

Yes, it was shortly after twelve
when I saw the launch go out.

- Did you know then it was your wife?
- Yes, I'd seen her going aboard.

At that distance and at night?

I saw a woman in a light dress.

Even at that distance a woman's skirt looks
different from a man's trousers.

It was my wife's boat and my wife's
habit to take it out.

Did you go directly from the cottage
to the landing?

Yes, I did.

Yes?

Speaking.

It is?

Okay, I think that does it.

Goodbye.

Now don't tell me, I feel it coming.
You're about to make an arrest.

This is a funny kind of case, Mr. Vickers.

Only three things stand clear.
You came back,

at one time your wife was down
at the landing and Harry Brice was killed.

I'd like to tell you what happened
that night as I see it.

- Mind if I smoke?
- Not at all.

Four years ago a man went on a cruise
with three of his friends.

One night one of those friends tried to
murder him, but the job was bungled...

...because the man lived.

Now, he didn't tell anyone he was alive,
which could only mean one thing.

He knew one of his friends
had tried to kill him,

and he didn't trust his wife.

The night he came back, he found
his wife down by the boathouse...

with a friend who had tried to kill him.

He waited until his wife had gone,

...then hit the friend very hard over
the head with a short iron bar.

He consigned the body
and the bar to the water.

There was blood and the iron
rust on his hands.

So, he wiped them clean with
his handkerchief...

Weighted it down with a stone
and threw it after the body.

Then he went back to the house and
played host for the rest of the night.

From the limited data at your disposal,
you concocted an excellent little plot.

It does have some rather
interesting aspects.

In a documentary sort of style, that is.

And that bit about the iron bar
is based on fact, I suppose?

Yes, the murder weapon was
found this morning.

The laboratory found particles of blood and
hair on it, that's what the phone call was.

And the handkerchief was a nice
piece of follow-through.

Only the old story doesn't have
a leg to stand on.

Good sound deduction, all very logical.

But you know what a smart defense
lawyer would do to you in court.

I know... except for one thing.

- The handkerchief.
- The what?

They found a handkerchief not far
from the murder weapon.

It had stains on it. Rust,
the same as on the bar.

And blood, Harry Brice's blood.

Are you trying to tell me
you came here to arrest me?

Wait a minute. I remember something
about a handkerchief.

Did Harry Brice have one
when you found him?

- No.
- Well, he asked me for one that night.

So I gave him one of Vick's,
it was white, a very fine linen...

...with a hand embroidered V in the corner.
Is that the one you found?

Yes, Mrs. Vickers, I'm afraid it is.

Well, it helps a lot.

Because if the handkerchief came off the
corpse, anybody could have taken it.

Including a woman who wouldn't have
had one of her own handy.

I take it you're not going
to arrest me then.

I guess not... yet.

Then may I ask you to get
out of my house?

You may.
But I'll be back.

Any time.

Any time at all, inspector.

Thanks, but you shouldn't have told him
that about the handkerchief.

- But I had to, Vick, it was the truth.
- It put ideas into his head.

Even if it did, and even if it put
wrong ideas into yours,

...I couldn't just sit there
and watch him arrest you.

No, Angie, of course you couldn't.

You know very well that Vickers
will discover your little game...

...before he's been back in the
office five minutes.

That's why I'm going to tell him.
He'll give me a chance to pay it all back.

Don't be a fool.

I've told you that for �1,000 I'll cover
your tracks and keep my mouth shut.

It's the cheapest price.

Do you really expect me to believe that
you'd be content with one payment?

I know your kind.

You'd just go on and on bleeding me.

You can't understand that I'd
rather go to Vickers...

- ...and make a clean breast of it, can you?
- And if Vickers goes to the police?

I'll take a chance on that.

Now shut up and get out or I may be
tempted to tell him what you're up to.

I'm afraid it's not as simple as that.

- You seem to be forgetting something.
- What?

- Angie.
You leave her out of this!

It's not what you and she
have been up to the past few years,

although I'm sure Vickers would
be very interested.

It's what happened the night of the party.

- What do you mean?
- I mean that if you go to Vickers,

I go to the police.

I'm gonna tell them that I saw you,
the two of you.

That you had Harry between you
and you pushed him into the water.

I'm gonna tell them I saw you
from the terrace.

I'm gonna tell them that I saw you...

Get out, Sessions.

Job, I was sort of expecting you.

Where's Angie?

Somewhere about.

Is she all right, Vick?
I've got to see her.

- I've got to see Angie.
- Why?

If you've done anything
to harm her, I...

I killed Sessions.

How did you kill him, Job?

Did you hit him over the head
the way you hit me?

I hit him. I don't know, I was going to...

He said something that... I hit him.

I didn't hit you, Vick, I...

I never hit anyone before.

What did he say?

I didn't go down to the boathouse.
He was lying.

Then why don't you stop lying, Job?

You committed a murder, why not
tell the truth about me?

I didn't try to kill you, Vick.

And I don't know who did.
Please let me see Angie.

Hello, Job.

- Are you all tight?
- Of course.

Angie...

I killed a man.

Job!

They can only hang me once.

So I'm going to say I killed Harry too.

- But...
- I want to do it, Angie.

Murder's wrong, but I know
you didn't murder him.

Not the way they mean it.

I know you killed him because
you had to.

I wanted you to know so you
wouldn't try to save me.

But Job, what makes you
think I killed Harry?

Well, I... I saw you.

I saw you down on the landing.

I saw your hair... and the light
dress that you wore.

Harry was with you.

I saw him sort of trumble out.
You tried to catch him, but...

...when you straightened up,
Harry wasn't there anymore.

But you don't have to worry,
it's all right...

...now.

I did not kill Harry Brice.
I was not the woman Job saw.

I wonder who he did see.

Oh, when will this ever be over, Vick,

when can we ever go back to
just being people again?

Well, that rules out Job.
He's willing to take on an extra murder...

and no reason to fight shy
of the one that didn't come off.

I wonder when Bill will come.

Do you think he'll come here?

He's in love with you, isn't he?

That alone will bring him.

Vick, may I come in?

Why not?

Where's Angie?

- She isn't here.
- Where is she then?

Joan's taken her somewhere.
Up in the valley, I believe.

- What'll you have?
- Scotch.

Things were getting a little
envolved emotionally.

Four years is a long time
to be separated.

- Thanks.
- Angie wants some time to think.

- When do you expect her back?
- Whenever she's ready.

And Treherne didn't mind her
just vanishing?

Didn't seem to.

So you've been up here all alone, sulking
and refusing to answer the telephone?

Not even call up any old pals come around
play canasta and lighten the solitude.

I wasn't that lonely.

You know something, Vick?

I think you're lying.

Listen to me, Bill. No man can prevent
another from being in love with a woman.

...or from trying to steal her
when he's not around.

But Angie happens to be my wife...

...and I'm getting fed up with people
accusing me of having murdered her...

...or being just about to do so.

You've got a lot of nerve, Vick.

You resent being accused of murder.

But the other way around it's okay.

You've accused me of murder.
You've accused Job.

And if Harry were still alive,
you'd probably be accusing him.

But you're resentful.

Good old Bill. You always were
the only one with any guts.

- Go on.
- Oh, I'll go on.

But if you've done anything to Angie,
I'll go on until I see you in hell.

I'm beginning to resent you, Vick.

Yes, I can believe that.

Apparently you all resented me.

We had a right to.

Let me ask you, Vick.

Why did you want us hanging around?

You amused me.

That's your answer.

You didn't have to stay and take it.

Only there was Angie, wasn't there?

She had all the virtues that I lacked.

That's why you tried to murder
me in Portugal.

Oh, so now you've made
a definite choice. It's me.

Get up.

Get up for heaven's sake
and finish your drink.

What makes you think I'd try
to kill you anyway, Vick?

You've always hated me, Bill.

You've always wanted Angie.

You're the only one I can ever
imagine having enough guts...

...to hit a man with homicidal intent.

Even from the back.

Oh, I might hit you, Vick, with homicidal
intent, but never from the back.

There's just one thing wrong
with your logic.

One factor you've overlooked.

- What's that?
- You.

You got hit in the head alright,

but the rest is all made up
in your own mind.

You had it pretty rough for four years,
that's stamped all over you.

You wanted revenge. We were the last
people you remembered seeing.

- So we were it.
- But I heard a voice.

It said "Turn around, Vickers,
I've waited a long time for this."

It said, "I want to watch your
face as it goes down."

Now let me hear you say it, Bill.

Imagination, Vick, dreams.

It spoke to me in English,
it called me my name,

it was no Portuguese thief
talking to me!

Let me hear you say it.

You're crazy.

It must have been your voice!
Let me hear you say it, Bill!

Vick, stop that!

Vick, stop it, you'll kill him, Vick!

Vick!

Thanks, Angie.

He must be out of his mind.

- But he said you were...
- No, I was waiting in there.

Oh, I see, Vick.

You don't care how you work a deal
to try and convince people you're not crazy.

And for your own sake, Angie,
you'd better make him see a psychiatrist.

I think you'd better go, Bill.

- Do you want to get out of here?
- No.

Thanks, no, I'll call you.

What do you think, Angie,
is he right?

Could be. Maybe I did dream all this.

That would be ironic.

Fetching Joan back here to get one
confession and getting one from me instead.

I knew the whole thing was a lot of
melodramatic nonsense.

Just like you, Philip. An ordinary accident
couldn't happen to you.

To anybody else in the world,
but not to Philip Vickers.

With you it would have to be attempted
murder with a lot of fancy trimmings.

You don't need a psychiatrist,
you need a little sense.

- Vickers, did you do this?
- Certainly not.

Brownie, is this the man?

I tell you I didn't see him.

Don't stand there like fools,
bring the man in.

- Is there anything I can do?
- No, thanks, he's not badly hurt.

- Who is he?
- Don't you know?

No, I don't know.

He's one of my men,
been watching the house.

I found him all tied up just now.

Would you mind telling us what
you're doing here?

You're under arrest, Mrs. Vickers
for the murder of Harold Brice.

You can't take her.

Crandall turned himself in.

We questioned him a little on his
Brice confession.

There were a few holes in his story
and he fell right through them.

After that it was easy.

Were you going to let him
take the rap for her?

- You answer that yourself, Treherne.
- All right, I'll withdraw that.

Thank you.

I was only hoping he'd keep you away
from her long enough to find out the truth.

- This looks like a pretty good substitute.
- It still isn't true.

Of course the burden of proof
rests with is.

But this will do until something
better comes along.

Are you ready, Mrs. Vickers?

Yes... I guess so.

- Will one of you get a coat, please?
- No, wait!

You don't want Mrs. Vickers,
you want me.

I'm the woman Crandall saw
with Harry Brice.

The woman had black hair,
Miss Merrill.

I was wearing a black hood,
I can show it to you.

Joan, dear, you weren't even down
there until the next morning.

- But I was...
- You were going to bed when I left you.

I was there, I tell you,
you've got to believe me.

Look, Miss Merrill, I appreciate
how you feel,

but I've had one phony confession
tonight, that's enough.

- There's nothing you can do now.
- Why don't you confess, why don't you con...

You know you killed him,
why don't you confess?

Oh, Angie!

It's all right, darling, don't worry,
nothing's going to happen to you.

- I didn't do it, Vick.
- I know.

We must get your coat and go now.

Not you, Vickers.

It'll work out, Angie,
I promise you.

I'll be seeing you, Mr. Vickers.

All right, Miss Merrill, his return
was a great shock to you.

No words, no warning.

All of a sudden, there he was.

So you went down to the cottage
to try and warn Mrs. Vickers.

Yes.

I don't know how long it took me.
It seemed like hours.

I went the long way around because
the shortcut is dark and lonely.

When I got there, I saw the light
in the boathouse.

I knew Angie that went down there a lot
to get away from people she didn't like.

I hoped she'd be there alone.

As I passed the landing I heard
a strange sound in the darkness.

I stopped.

I saw the shape of a man lying in a heap
beside the bench. He seemed to be hurt.

It was Harry.

I thought at first that he was drunk,
that he'd fallen and hurt himself.

I asked him if he was all right.

Then I saw his face.

Suddenly he just fell and went
over the edge into the water.

A handkerchief had fallen out
of Harry's pocket.

I picked it up.

Then I saw the bar.
I was beyond thinking clearly,

I picked up and threw it as far
as I could into the water.

I weighted the handkerchief
and threw that in too.

All of a sudden I became afraid.

Afraid of the murderer.

The next thing I knew I was running.

Then I got in the car and drove
straight back to the house.

All right, Miss Merrill, try to
calm down and try to relax.

You'll let Angie go now?

- I'm sorry, Miss Merrill.
- But it was Philip.

Why don't you arrest him? Philip
killed Harry Brice, you know he did.

What I may and may not know,

and what I can prove are two
different things, Miss Merrill.

But you can't hold Angie now, you only
have her because of what Job said.

- And now you know it was me he saw.
- We only have your word for that.

Oh, just how stupid can you get?

It was Philip. He did it, who else
would have any reason for doing it?

You.

Me?

You hate Vickers enough to do anything
if you knew it could destroy him.

You'll never stop believing that your
father would be alive today...

...if it hadn't been for Philip Vickers.

Revenge is a strange thing, Miss Merrill.

It'll eat into a person's soul
and rot away the insides...

...until there's not one shred of decency
or a speck of human feelings left.

- Yes, sir.
- You can send in Sgt. Evans now.

Right, sir.

We're holding you for further
questioning, Miss Merrill.

But...

The only way I can solve this case...

...is by getting the truth
out of all the people concerned.

Which I've not been getting
from any of them yet. But I'll get it.

And now, if you'll excuse me,
I have things to do.

- Sgt. Johnson?
- Yes, sir.

Send for Philip Vickers for questioning.

Then come in here and start making
noises like an assistant.

Right, sir.

Well?

We're right back where we started from.

Suspects fall in every time
you open the door,

but they slip through your
fingers like water.

- It's all very sad.
- You're getting paid for it, sir.

What happens now?

I'll do a little more questioning,
then I'll let him go.

And then?

Somebody will get killed.

This thing isn't finished yet.

No matter who killed Harry Brice,
this just doesn't solve anything.

It was just a curtain raiser. Now undress
Mable and get that stuff down to the lab.

That house and everyone connected
with it are going to be watched.

I'm going to make each one
of them sweat...

...figuring out what they've got to do.

And then I'll go ahead and do it.

They can't wait. This isn't a murder
for profit or convenience.

And it isn't cold-blooded, it's hot
and it's violent.

And that kind of murder won't wait.

Um... would you mind turning a little
the other way, sir?

- Mabel here, she's the bashful type.
- Oh.

Okay.

- How are you, darling?
- Fine, when did they let you go?

Joan and I came home about 2 o'clock.

How did Treherne treat you?

He behaved admirably

He now knows everything about me
except how to prove that I killed Harry.

I know he's convinced I did it.

- What on earth is this?
- My clothes.

Here's the inventory.

One man's suit, blue, one pair
of man's shoes, black, and so on.

These things have been put to every
test known to modern science...

...and found pure, no blood.
Treherne was terribly disappointed.

I know I shall never want to wear
my things again. Let's have a drink.

Definitely.

Unless you want anything, Angie,
I think I'll go upstairs.

I'll put these things in your
room for you, Philip.

Don't bother, I'll take it up
when I go.

No bother.

- Joan.
- Yes, sir?

Thanks for getting Angie out of that.

There's nothing to thank me for.

I know.

I was only trying to be civil.

It's not a sweater she's knitting,
it's a noose.

She and Treherne are going
to fasten it on me together...

...and tie it with a true lover's knot.

She's been down there since early morning
trying to talk me right into death row.

Poor Joan, she's only trying to help me.
Be patient a little longer, darling.

I'll talk to her and try
to straighten her out.

- And if she won't straighten?
- Then of course she'll have to go.

Did you call Bill and invite
him to dinner?

Yes, I did.
But I really don't understand.

He was lying last night
or I'm off my head.

He came here to do something
and then changed his mind.

He played the whole thing off
against me.

So now I'm suspected of lunacy
and he's got you and Joan as witnesses.

But think how did it help
to have him here again?

He's tried twice to kill me
and he'll try again.

This time I want to bring him
out into the open.

I want him here where I can
keep an eye on him.

Down three.

I suppose you realize the grounds
are crawling with cops.

It doesn't surprise me.
Just like old times.

I'd forgotten what it was like
to have a shadow.

- You too, Bill?
- Sure.

I don't know about you two characters,
but I feel like a nightcap, how about it?

You both had a pretty hard day,
you deserve it.

It's a wonderful idea.

I'll get the ice, pour the drinks,
I'll even come back and help you drink them.

I can't stand this much longer, Vick.

No, neither can I.

It's up to him to make the first move.
I hope it's soon.

I don't want to spend the rest of my life
playing three-handed gin rummy.

- I thought you'd gone to bed.
- Bill...

I put a package in your car, when you leave
here, take it straight to Treherne.

There's a note inside explaining
the whole thing to him.

Wait a minute, just give me that
once more, a bit slower.

Listen, I found evidence proving
that Philip killed Harry.

It's in your car.

I can't leave it here because I can't
leave Angie alone with him.

You've got to take it to the police.
Do you understand?

Sure.

Sure, I understand.

- What will it be, over the rocks?
- Over the rocks.

Well, happy nightcap.

And pleasant dreams.

So long, Vick.
Good night, Angie.

You killed her.

You killed her! You killed her!
You killed her!

You're mad.

Bill was right, you're mad.

- You're mad.
- Angie!

Let me go.

You were expecting me, Bill.

I've been expecting you ever
since you came back.

Move over there, Vick.

- I'll call the police.
- No need to do that.

They'll be here soon enough.

They want me for murder.

Murder?

It's all rather hazy.

I woke up with a poker in my hand
and Joan was dead.

Then you killed Joan.

No, Bill, you killed Joan.

I killed Angie.

Angie.

Oh, you're lying, Vick.

Why would you want to kill her?

I had a splitting headache and she
screamed at me. It hurt my head.

Then she said you were right, Bill,
that I was obviously quite mad.

And so...

I still had the poker in my hand...

...and I suppose I did it to stop her
screaming as much as anything.

But you really shouldn't have
said I was mad.

You're lying, Vick.

You can't needle me that way.

Why should I lie, Bill?

I've nothing to lose.
The way you've worked it out...

I haven't a hope.

Use the phone, check up.

When you're finished,
get me a drink, will you?

I feel rotten.

You did that for me, Bill.

Four years of hard labor you get
strong doing that.

Now get up.

Get up!

Did you kill Angie, Vick?

- Did you kill her?
- No, I didn't kill her! She's safe.

But she thinks I killed Joan, I can't expect
her to think anything else.

But one thing I can do is stop you taking
what you want after I'm out of the way.

No, I'm not going to kill you, Bill.
You're far too important to me for that.

I'm going to try and make you talk.

Four years ago I could have
taken you, Vick.

I could have given you height and weight,
and I could still take you on.

Cause your guts were nothing
but stuffed feathers.

Now I don't know. You went down
easy enough in Portugal.

- I was doped.
- You're doped now.

I know, but I can still see.

Are you quite sure about that, John?

There's no possible doubt.

Mrs. Vickers, you'd better
come with us.

Come on, Johnson, we've really got
our killer this time.

- You killed Harry?
- Yeah.

- You killed Joan?
- Yes.

- Will you tell the police?
- No.

Now will you tell the police, Bill?

No.

You should be dead, Vickers.
I hit you hard enough.

- You wanted my wife.
- She needed a man, not a stuffed shirt.

Yeah, I wanted her. But I couldn't
have her while you were still alive.

And you killed Harry.

He was around her too much.

I got down to the boathouse,
he was all alone.

There was no way you could prove
it wasn't you.

- And Joan?
- I can fill that in myself.

You didn't have to go to all
this trouble, Vickers.

What do you mean?

Saul is a very smart boy.

He painted a beautiful picture.

He knocked out Miss Merrill
in the kitchen...

...then went back into the lounge
and drugged your drinks.

After you'd passed out,
he dragged in Miss Merrill,

hit her over the head,
then set the stage.

Only one detail was wrong.

Miss Merrill was already dead.

She was under great tension.

And the shock of being knocked out
stopped her heart.

The medical examiner can prove that she was
dead before the time of Saul's departure...

...and over one hour before you were
supposed to have killed her.

- You mean that...
- That's right, Mrs. Vickers.

We came here to arrest Saul.

I'm disappointed.

- Yes, and your pride is touched.
- To the quick.

- I had such a beautiful case against you.
- Circumstantial evidence.

Not with your visual testimony,
Mrs. Vickers.

Hey, now, do you blame her?

She wakes out of a drugged
sleep and sees me...

Darling, we're interrupting Mr. Treherne,
it's his story, let him tell it.

Thank you.

When Miss Merrill doctored a pair
of your shoes,

it gave Saul just the chance
he'd been waiting for.

What could be more convincing...

...than that you discover Miss Merrill had
sent incriminating evidence to the police?

You fly into a rage and you kill her.

There was the motive, the weapon,
the fingerprints.

And the body.

What more would the police need
to convict a man for murder?

Not much.

You'll have to stick around while
the usual legal machinery...

...grinds its mitts through the mill.

I take it you weren't planning
another sea trip just yet.

Not just yet.
Well, thanks for the ride, Treherne.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

Goodbye.

- Subtitles -
Lu�s Filipe Bernardes