Original subtitles

Oh. Hmm.

Oh, Claire.

Are you sure?

Can you afford to pay my fee and question my diagnosis?

Letter for you, Mr. Camrose. Thank you.

Thank you, Ralph. I missed it. See that you make good use of your new voice.

Dr.

Pomerantz.

There really is nothing like a ride in the country.

Blow away the cobwebs. Breaks routine.

Commune with nature.

Hair streaming in the wind.

That's not the only thing that's in the wind.

What else?

Trouble. Indeed, I knew you were holding back on me.

I told you this was a mystery tour. We've got to solve the mystery.

Well... We've been summoned to the present.

Who?

Mothers.

What do you think of that, Steve?

Came in from New York this morning.

What an upset.

What? Gold's down two and a half points.

Not the stock market prices halfway down.

Oh.

Third year nose and throat specialist dies of unknown causes, growing concerns

at top U .S. clinic.

Well, surely that's not our territory, mother.

It is now.

Worldwide epidemic?

A disease that chooses its victims too carefully, for my liking. Find the

antidote before it spreads.

First of all, find the disease.

Precisely. And you won't find it in any medical dictionary.

How can you be sure?

My nose is twitching.

It's never let us down yet.

What hasn't?

Mother's nose.

Doesn't seem to have picked up much of a scent.

That's our department. I'm going to see what I can pick up in Camrose Consulting

Room. And what about the female of the species?

She is to visit an old friend of mine.

Old? It takes time to become an ear, nose and throat specialist.

You might ask him what the connecting link is between the dead men.

Okay. What's his name?

Padley.

When did this arrive?

Just before Mr. Camrose's death.

Curious.

No postmark.

Where's the waste paper bag?

Here.

Thank you.

Do you happen to know who delivered this?

Now. Not quite.

You could have fooled me.

They're different typewriters.

How can you tell? That one has a misaligned L.

You are a great disappointment, Steed. I thought we had a clue.

We have.

What? These envelopes.

They're identical.

Now, don't tell me they're made of antique -laid decolleged vellum

produced from Manitoban rag pulp.

Naturally.

But I think we ought to get it confirmed by an expert, don't you?

Do come in, Mr. Maywell.

Thank you, sir.

Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Maywell. Put him on the desk, shall we? Yes.

What do you want me to do, Steve?

You stick close to Seton and Herrick. We don't want to lose any more of those

ear, nose and throat men. Mother will be very angry.

I see.

I go out and protect the whole medical profession while you stay at home and

have a cozy paper chase.

Bye. Now, Mr. Madewell, you were going to show me your twin plies. Yes, indeed,

sir. A very popular line with the aristocracy.

I can imagine, but I'm a gentleman as yet without a title.

I quite understand.

I might, I suggest, as an interim measure, a discreet monogram embossed on

unique tissue -lined parchment.

You may, indeed.

I force I detected a man of discernment.

How much may I put you down for, sir?

A croix? Two croix?

A ream?

At the very least.

Tell me, is this by any chance one of yours?

I'm afraid to say it is, sir. It's our cream -wove bond.

Well, cream -wove or not, a firm of your reputation.

I am well aware of that, sir. I was saying to Mr. Pugh earlier the other day

that we ought to discontinue it.

Mr. Pugh did approve.

It's our big moneymaker, you see, sir. Low cost to make bulk buying a more

effective proposition.

It's fairly common. In every sense of the word, sir.

As a matter of fact, something pretty uncommon happened about two months ago.

Oh, what was that?

Somebody bought 10 ,000 of those cream -worm envelopes.

And no paper?

I must confess, Miss King, that... although this is my line of country,

never come across anything like it before.

No sign of gas or drugs?

None.

It's funny, Mr. Seaton.

Mr. Padley seemed to be struggling for breath just before he died.

That's what amazes me.

According to what you tell me, he had all the symptoms of acute asphyxiation.

As his partner, you'd certainly know if he had anything wrong with his lungs.

We were not only partners, we were close friends, Miss King.

I've known Henry for 30 years. We were students together. We worked on allergy

research together.

If there'd been anything medically the matter with him, he most certainly would

have consulted me.

Your letter, Mr. Thetan. Thank you.

Healthy man, apparently choked to death in a large, airy room. Well, it's

unbelievable.

Perhaps the autopsy... Just a minute!

I beg your pardon?

It seems there's nothing deadlier than the mail.

Just a theory.

Carry on.

You people are so melodramatic.

Tell me, Mr. Thetan, I thought I heard sneezing from Mr. Padley's room.

Violent sneezing.

Now, what do you make of that?

I don't see how it could have any relevance to Henry's death. It seems to

must have suffered some sort of gigantic muscular spasm that cut off the air to

his lungs.

Collar too tight?

No, all his shirts were handmade.

He never wore anything that didn't fit perfectly.

Come in.

I'm sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Thetan, but you asked to see Lord Nightingale's

x -rays as soon as they came up.

Oh, yes, thank you, Georgina.

If you'll forgive me for a minute.

Certainly.

No!

Here we are.

A 10 ,000 cream -wove envelope delivered on April the 13th to the Anastasia

Nursing Academy.

The what?

Anastasia Nursing Academy.

I thought it was a bit odd at the time.

What would a nursing academy want with 10 ,000 envelopes?

That's a good question.

We have an uninvited guest.

Let's find out the name on the card.

Make sure she doesn't see us.

Make sure you don't lose her, either.

We want to find out who she is.

And then deal with her?

Uh -huh.

Make sure I'm with you now.

Aren't you going to introduce us?

His name's McTavish. What's he doing out of his cupboard?

Oh, he lives here during the exams. So you can bone up on your facts, eh?

Thank you.

Oh, Matron, good of you to see... Good to see you.

Thank you.

I hope I can be of service, Mr... Indeed, you've heard of my foundation,

course. I'm afraid not.

No?

What a ploy at the life you ministering angels lead.

No, my foundation is dedicated to the service of the sick.

I see.

Buying your way to heaven?

With the meek inheriting the earth as the only place left.

We're thinking of endowing an establishment of this nature.

This establishment is unique, Mr. Deed. We pride ourselves in setting the

highest possible standards. I appreciate that. We can only hope to follow lamely

in your footsteps.

What is it you want to know? The secret of your success.

That's simple.

We only accept what we consider will be the cream of the nursing profession.

Much paperwork.

I'm hopeless at administration. I wouldn't like to think that I was biting

more than I could chew.

The amount of correspondence we deal with here is nothing out of the

Letters of acceptance or rejection.

Mostly rejection.

We receive roughly 200 applications a month.

Out of those, only one or two are successful.

I'm delighted to see that you're so selective.

Would you say about 50 letters a week?

Something like that.

Oh, well, I'm sure that would present no problems.

I really am most grateful to you, Matron.

Always glad to meet a genuine philanthropist. I only wish there were

them. Oh, if one's born with a silver spoon in one's mouth, one must see that

feeds as many people as possible.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mr. Steele.

So our little bird comes home to roost.

Will we pay our nest a little visit?

But of course.

With this?

No. We want her alive.

We must find out what she knows and who she's working for.

Hello. Institute of Annoted Diseases.

Could I please speak to Dr. Fawcett?

You'll be able to come over this afternoon, then?

Okay, lovely. I'll be waiting for you.

Thank you, Dr. Fawcett. Bye -bye.

Good afternoon. Market research. We're canvassing for opinions of a new perfume

that's due to come in the shops next spring.

We call it Oblivion. I think you'll fall for it.

Hold on. Hold on!

No. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

I frequently am.

Using curtains like those?

Oh, I rather like them.

Highly dangerous.

22 .3 % of all hay fever sufferers are allergic to velvet.

That's common knowledge, surely.

And a bit of dust.

Breeding ground for all kinds of bacteria.

Where's Miss King?

I haven't the faintest idea, Mr... Faucet.

Dr. Fawcett, Institute of Allergic Diseases.

Am I to understand that Miss King asked you to meet again?

You do.

Four hours and 31 and a half minutes ago.

In connection with the death of Dr. Padley? In connection with Dr.

Padley and Dr.

Seaton's death.

What? Dr.

Seaton died this morning, soon after the death of his partner.

From the same symptoms?

So I gather, yes. Then Tara was on to something. Now, when did you...

That's odd.

Very. What did you deduce from this, Doctor?

That Miss King was here before I arrived? Right, smell that.

Steady. Well, this is chloroform.

I don't like it.

You're not the only one.

When chloroform is exposed to light and air, it oxidizes in two.

Now, would you mind if we postponed our little chat? What's another four hours

to busy man? I have an unpleasant interview ahead. Already I can hear a

saying... Loster?

Lost Tara King?

Disappear. Dirty work?

Trifle unhygienic, I'm afraid.

Scott?

I wouldn't worry too much about you. I'm afraid I don't share your apparent

knack of unconcern.

Practical. Eh?

I'm being practical.

Fill your mind with anxieties about Tara, and you'll be thinking below par,

reducing your chances of finding her. That's one way of looking at it. It's

right way.

Now, what have we got so far?

A puzzle.

Why should a nurse's training college order 10 ,000 envelopes and no writing

paper?

Do you want any help?

One man job. I'm breaking in tonight.

I'm glad to know our plans are going ahead without a hitch.

Keep up the good work. Victory, final victory, looms ahead.

Sincerely, Morris Timothy, Colonel Retired.

What do you know about Colonel M. Timothy?

Timothy, Indian Army, retired, served in two world wars,

wealthy, endowed various worthy causes.

Please.

You see, I've nothing else to do but think. It's my job to know these things.

What do you, uh... What do you know about Tara?

Well, you know what they say. No news is good news.

Lots of good news.

I'm afraid so.

What about Colonel Timothy?

I think he merits a visit.

Mother, have you heard anything of Tara?

Of course.

You'll be the first to hear.

After me.

Ariadne, sir, was responsible for the demise of the cat.

Not to worry, I have eight lives left.

My advice would be, sir, not to throw them away too easily. I rang the bell,

no reply. My card.

Thank you, sir. Would you have the goodness to remove your coat and roll up

shirt, please, sir?

What, fisticuffs?

No, antibiotic injection.

Colonel's orders. No visitors to be admitted without one.

I should have brought my health certificate.

Wouldn't have been any use, sir. The colonel insists on his own form of

protection. Against what?

Other people's germs, sir.

The colonel has enough of his own to contend with.

Infection prone?

Ever since his return from Malaya, sir.

No resistance to Western bacteria.

You do that like a connoisseur.

Practice makes perfect, sir.

Colonel Timothy won't keep you a moment, sir. No white coat or mask?

Unless you brought your own with you, sir.

They're not yet household amenities.

Do you know the only creatures that get cold are human beings and chimpanzees?

Fascinating. There's a lesson to be learned from that.

Safer to walk on all fours. No.

The more civilised you are, the more susceptible.

A disease of the sophisticated.

I got it in one.

Ever thought of going to Malaya?

Well, I... You don't.

Dreadful place.

Take a look at that.

Early Etruscan?

No, not the flask. Inside.

Common cold virus preserved in 76 degrees in dry ice.

I see. That's very stupid of me.

Now then.

What was it you wanted to see me about?

Steed Foundation. Never heard of it.

There's nothing to be ashamed of. I assume you've never had a serious

Mozambique. You must be clairvoyant.

We've endowed three hospitals there. And we're finding a nurse's training

establishment to staff it. Now, you've had experience in endowing the Anastasia

Academy. Do you want my advice? Please.

Don't. More trouble than they're worth.

Anastasia Academy never go near the place.

Boring. Treadfully boring.

Now, if you want to see something really interesting, here.

Got a tiny bit of an headache, have we?

Oh, no.

I just feel the tiniest bit homesick.

If you want to play games, little lady, we must get you a copy of The Room.

Come in.

Coal cure clinic.

My pet project.

Decided if the medical profession couldn't cure my cold, I'd do it myself.

Would you like to have a look around? Nothing I'd like better.

Not much, Chief Jets, you understand. These things take time.

Softly, softly, catchy monkey.

That's the ticket.

Glover.

This is Dr. Glover, my chief of research.

Frank, I'd like you to meet Mr. Steed of the Steed Foundation.

Sounds impressive.

Only if one comes from Mozambique.

Mr. Steed's branching out. Thought we might put him in the picture, show him

shop window, as it were.

Prospective buyer?

Prospective competitor.

Good. This is a field in which competitors are always welcome.

This way, Mr. Seed.

What goes on in here?

Deep freeze rooms.

That one's empty at the moment.

Deep freeze.

To give our guinea pigs artificially induced colds.

Fred should like to see one in operation.

I'd be fascinated.

Follow me.

How do you do?

It's our guinea pigs. That's right.

They do this for fun. For science.

They get free board and expenses.

This room is kept just below freezing point.

Prolonged exposure at such a temperature usually induces a cold within 48 hours.

This case is getting out of control.

No panic. We'll see what medical science can get out of her. Shall I make a

phone call? Not yet.

Delivery time.

And when we get back, we'll bring professional help. And what if that

ineffective? Then it's up to the boss. Then it is pigeon.

Then it's problem.

Now, come along and see how our allergy runs.

How's the weather in there?

Are you employee anesthesia nurses?

All part of the organisation.

Glad I hear insist on it. The best.

Only the very best. I can see that.

This way, Mr C.

75 % of the population have at least one cold a year. 25 % have four or more.

The loss of working hours is staggering.

The mind boggles. So this is where we experiment on antidotes for allergic

diseases. And we're off to complete victory. No use chasing the enemy into

foothills where they can regroup.

Search and destroy while they're out on a raiding party. That's a ticket.

Fight them in the veins and the arteries.

In the cells and in the membranes. In the handkerchiefs. The biggest mistake

they made was to invade me.

That's me.

I intend to fight back with every weapon at my disposal.

I hope you'll join us, Mr. Steed.

The more, the merrier.

That's very good of you, Dr. Glamour. Goodbye.

Carry on the good work. Remember our aim, unconditional surrender.

This is going to be a long campaign, long campaign.

And you're running short of allies.

Eh? Well, Camrose and Padley, they're both experts in their field and both

Oh, did you know them?

I wrote to them.

Neither of them answered.

Perhaps they thought themselves too grand, too good, too brilliant to

themselves in the common cold.

Thank you very much, Colonel. I simply must go now. I'll see you again soon.

Yeah, but look here.

Goodbye.

Special delivery. Get back as quick as you can. We've got our little pet next

door to deal with.

Who is it this time?

Somebody who's likely to become a nuisance.

Urgent? Well, of course we appreciate it's urgent.

Of course we're working on it.

Yes, Grandma.

Yes, Grandma.

Yes, Grandma.

Grandma.

Time's running short, Steve. Four more rear nose and throat men dead in the

six hours.

One in Brazil, one in Australia, and two in Russia.

An absolute mayhem in the medical profession.

Now, what have we got so far?

Three envelopes. Well, that's an improvement. Last time there were 10

Narrowing it down.

And what have you got so far, Tara?

The word's out. The word's out.

She was on to something before she disappeared. She contacted a doctor,

it, allergic diseases.

Does that tie in? Perhaps.

Now, at the Anastasia Academy, they have over, well, about 200 applications a

month. Bully for them. Now, one would expect those applications to be vetted

produce a young woman of the highest caliber and moral stature. Now,

that system was inverted.

Reject all the honest ones.

Retain all the dishonest ones.

You know, that would be the nucleus for a nice, nasty organization.

Possible. Probable.

You know, I think I'll talk to Dr. Fawcett again.

May I use your phone? Help yourself.

Not that one.

Unless you happen to speak fluent Swahili.

Well, the word is out, eh?

Tara?

Control those anxieties, or you'll be thinking below par.

All the same, I hope she's keeping a cool head.

So you still refuse to talk.

are you working for? I think she needs cooling off.

Cassiopeia chlorate explodes under impact.

Either is inflammable.

Something's got to kill.

Was there anything left in there?

Enough.

I'll have to have it analysed, of course.

But my guess is it's a common cold virus powder manufactured for fantastic

concentrations. Virus powder?

Yes. Sounds innocuous enough, but there's enough strength in there to kill

elephant. So the victim could sneeze to death if he didn't choke himself to

death first.

How do you isolate the common cold virus?

By a freeze -drying process.

But how you concentrate it to this extent is absolutely beyond me.

Death by post.

Simple. And effective.

Any unsuspected victim wouldn't really have a chance.

Why are you a nose and throat specialist?

Camrose, Padley, Sinton, Herrick. Look, what have they got in common?

Ah, well, the tragedy of that was that if they had known what was in that

envelope, each would have known how to deal with it.

Why? Because they were working in the same field. What field?

Anti -allergy research.

Common cold allergies.

That's right.

I can't understand why you haven't received one of these envelopes.

because I'm only concerned with virus analysis.

Whereas the dead man... We're all concerned with antidotes.

One of them might have discovered one already, for all I know.

And if they'd lived, they would have been a constant threat.

To whom?

To someone who has the facilities to produce this powder.

Excuse me.

Deeds should be out of the way by now.

Yeah. There were no delivery complications.

He'll have found the envelope, sniffed it, and snuffed it. What next?

A final allergy test.

Then we can start eliminating the rest of the opposition.

What kind of a test?

A very final one.

We need a special guinea pig.

What's the survival risk?

Nil. Then how about you?

Exactly who I had in mind.

Our guinea pig. Just what a doctor ordered.

Take her to the allergy room.

The chief can deal with her.

An Englishman's home is this castle, Mr. Thede.

I'll be long now.

No.

It's a pity to keep her waiting now she's dressed for the occasion.

It's preposterous, ridiculous murder by male deadly dust.

And even if it were true... I think you know it's true. And even if it were true

that you should suspect me.

I don't know why you bother to deny it. You're holding all the cards.

I don't intend to play them unless I have to. I'm not in the habit of

people down in cold blood.

Only by killing them by remote control.

Now, I warn you, Steed, I'm not going to put up with much more of this nonsense.

Now, look here, Colonel, if you're telling the truth, you're likely to

one of these envelopes in the very near future.

Good grief!

I found this letter last thing, sir.

I'm terribly sorry. Of course, I would have brought it up with your breakfast

tray, sir.

Now do you believe me?

Do you mean someone is trying to... Exactly. We've got to find out where

someone is.

We'll start with the standard allergy test.

Find a resistance.

Well, open up for me, please. Better still, I'll come with you.

Nothing like a call to the flag to bring the colors to the jits.

And what's the plan of campaign?

Frontal assault.

And what are we looking for? A tall, attractive brunette.

Who isn't?

She's not allergic to caviar.

Champagne.

Oysters, no. Quail, no.

Ragweed, yes.

Perfect.

A rather plippy analogy, Miss King, but perfect for our purpose.

Which is?

A test of my theorem. A test.

To destruction.

Well, if you're going to destroy me anyways, you can at least tell me why.

Why are you killing off all these men?

The oldest motive, the oldest cliché.

They knew too much.

I've discovered an analogy to which no one is resistant yet.

And presumably one of your colleagues would have eventually discovered an

antidote. Precisely.

Now a little whiff of my dust can destroy an entire population. A whole

And there will be no defense against it. A weapon to be sold to the highest

bidder. A few grains of my powder will make me a rich man, Miss Gaines.

A few grains of powder or a few milligrams of my liquid.

Only one of them inside.

Combined operation.

Indubitably.

Cold for the time of year.

again. Direct attack.

The pincer movement. The subtlety of approach.

Hands above the head. The hands above... High above the head.

The doctor's busy.

Doesn't want to be disturbed.

A few milligrams of liquid.

Prisoners of war, it seems.

Absolutely. Sorry, but we don't take prisoners.

Remember the Battle of Vimy? Who could forget it? Nice strategy.

Copy book. Remember how it began?

Of course.

Diversionary attack. That's it.

Bantai!

Glad to see you haven't lost your grip.

Always keep a hold on this for fear of catching something worse.

Here we are.

There's nothing left to kill the whole clinic.

Drop that gun, Colonel.

Drop it!

Drop it!

That's better.

I'm leaving.

Helpless king. Hate to see a woman hanging around aimlessly.

Lover? I warned you. I know.

But I never could follow doctor's orders.

By the way, you forgot your mail.

Get on tight.

Auntie Oman Foods patent cold cure remedy.

Have you all cleared up in no time?

Aren't you going to have one?

It's a little too heady for this time of day.

Go on, clears up all the sinuses.

Well?

It's quite nice.

It's awfully kind of you, Auntie.

Perhaps I ought to write and take her. That won't be possible, I'm afraid.

Why not?

Poor Auntie Urbantrude, she died.

At an early age.

What did she die of?

Steed?

She caught a cold.

Well, it's a lucky thing I didn't catch it.

Oh.

Well, it just wouldn't do.

You and I both with a cold at the same time.

People might talk.

You'll just have to face it, Steve.

You're hopelessly compromised.