All language subtitles for Ministry.of.Fear.1944.CRITERION.Bluray.english

Neale?

- Oh, there you are.
- Come in.

You know, it's interesting to watch
the last minute crawl by...

after so many of them.

I've always meant to have
that thing speeded up.

It's a fine time to think of it.

Free man.

- You're not wasting any time, eh?
- Not if I can help it.

Where do you plan to go?

London.

It's being heavily bombed
these nights.

Don't you think some quiet town at first,
and get employment there for a while?

I'm going to spend the first month
being pushed and jammed...

by the biggest crowds I can find.

I want to hear people
talk and laugh.

After that clock,
a sea of faces will be a good tonic.

Well, I don't blame you.
I'll walk to the gate with you.

One parting thought, Neale:

Don't get involved
with the police again in any way.

A second charge wouldn't be easy.

- A quiet life from here on.
- Well, good-bye and good luck.

Thank you.

- Good evening to you.
- Evening. Ticket to London, please.

Yes, sir.
In the wink of an eye.

- What's happening over there?
- That's our charity f�te.

The ladies are doing themselves
proud tonight.

You might like to have a look at it
and spend a shilling or two.

- It's well worth it.
- May I leave my things here?

Certainly. Put 'em right there
on the bench.

- I'll keep me eye on 'em.
- Thank you.

- Good evening.
- Evening.

- Will you join our party?
- Yes.

The charge is a shilling.
Doesn't seem quite fair though.

It's so late. If you wait five minutes,
you could go in at the reduced price.

- It's all right.
- I always think it's fair to warn people.

We don't want them to feel cheated,
even in a good cause, do we?

No, no.
What is the cause?

Mothers of the Free Nations.

Catch it!

Thank you.

Come, now, children.
Come along.

It's getting toward blackout time.
Now we'll have the treasure hunt.

Go and get your spades and dig,
and mind the vicar's petunias.

Now, run along. Run on.

Young gentleman...

won't you buy a ticket
and guess its weight?

It's a shilling.
Whoever is closest wins it.

- All right.
- Thank you.

Oh, uh, three pounds five ounces.

A very good guess,
I should say.

Your wife must have been
teaching you.

I have no wife.

Now you must try the fortune-teller's.
You really must.

Mrs. Bellane is wonderful.
She told my son...

I was just telling this gentleman
about Mrs. Bellane and my son.

- Eh...
- Oh, I'll see her.

Oh, thanks. How nice.

Oh, isn't he a lovely gentleman?

Sit down...

and cross my palm with silver.

Your hand.

You're up to date here.
Electric light.

First the character, then the past.
By law I'm not allowed to tell the future.

Aha.

You have found true contentment
in a happy marriage.

- I am not married.
- Then you will be, heaven help the woman.

Oh, don't be angry, please. I haven't
had as much pleasure in two years.

- I mean it.
- Really?

Well, then, let's get on with it.

Now the past.

This line that runs here...

You have made one woman happy.

Is something wrong?

No.

Nothing.

Forget the past.
Just tell me the future.

My instructions are these:

What you want is the cake.

You must give the weight...

as 4 pounds 15 1/2 ounces.

- Well, is it the right weight?
- That's immaterial.

Don't I hear any more fortune?

No. You can go now.

Well, thank you.

I'll try it.

- I would like to buy another chance.
- Bravo!

That's a splendid idea!

Splendid!

I would say
4 pounds 15 1/2 ounces.

Lawks!

Anybody could tell
you're a bachelor.

As a matter of fact,
the gentleman has won it.

He's not more than a fraction
of an ounce out.

You'd better not eat too much.

It'll be heavy as lead.

On the contrary.
It's made with real eggs.

There you are.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo!

Will the gentleman
with the cake please wait?

Oh, I've made a terrible mistake
about the weight.

I'm so sorry,
but it wasn't what you said.

The real weight is three pounds
and two ounces...

and the other gentleman won it.

- What gentleman?
- There, with Mrs. Bellane.

- What did he guess?
- Oh, much closer.

Three pounds and eight ounces.

In that case, I still win. My first guess
was three pounds and five ounces.

Give the gentleman this shilling
and tell him you're awfully sorry.

- Good night.
- But...

You don't find
many good cakes these days.

I told you it'd be worthwhile.

Here's an empty one
where you can stretch out and sleep.

There's no reading with those dim-out
lights. And keep the curtains drawn.

- All right.
- The blasted Nazis'll be over in a bit.

The red alert just went up.

I hope our lads give 'em
a proper pasting.

- Well, good night, sir.
- Good night. Thank you.

- Hope they don't bomb the railway.
- I hope.

Is there space here for one more?

It's empty except for me.
Come in.

Here.

- That's right.
- Thanks.

- You're very kind.
- Not at all.

Good to have company.

Going through to London?

Yes. They say the red's up.

So I was told.

It seems strange to hear people...

tell of the blackout.

I guess I'm better off than most...

at getting about in the dark.

I haven't been out much
at night myself.

I hear the bombers
overhead every night.

They pass over my farm
on their way to London.

It's a dread sound.

Yes, it is.

- Would you like some cake?
- Cake?

Yes. I won it
back there at the f�te.

You might as well share it with me.
It's a long way to a London restaurant.

Well, if you're going
to have some...

Here you are.

Ah. Feel how light it is.

Made with eggs.

You'd think it was made with gold,
the way they wanted to hang on to it.

I hear them now.

- What?
- The Nazis.

They must be trying
for the Blackmoor Factory.

Some low buildings about a mile.

That's it.

It's a munitions plant.

Excuse me. There didn't seem
to be anyone here.

- What do you want?
- I'm looking for Mr. Rennit.

I'm Mr. Rennit. You should
have made an appointment.

Evidently you don't want clients.
Good morning.

Now, now, now, now.
You don't want to lose your temper.

I'm a busy man.
There are ways of doing things.

Take a chair,
and we'll both have a drink.

- Not a bad idea.
- It's an excellent idea.

These raids... bad for the nerves.

One must have a little something.

One gets rattled.

You'll excuse a teacup?

I've never objected to stimulants...

as stimulants.

- Your health.
- I may need it.

Now, to business.

- Your name?
- Stephen Neale.

Hmm.

Have you a pencil?

Thank you.

How did you happen
to come to me?

Because I don't like my hotel room being
ransacked while I'm out at breakfast.

I don't like being robbed
on trains or shot at.

Mr. Neale...

this is a respectable business
with a tradition.

I'm not Sherlock Holmes.

A man in my position
doesn't go crawling about floors...

with a microscope
looking for bloodstains.

If you're in that kind of trouble,
you should go to the police.

I don't wish to be
mixed up with the police.

I'm sorry. It would've been worth
�20 to have you come with me.

�20, eh?

- W-Well, let's get on with it.
- I see.

Yes, war plays the devil
with a business like this.

Come on.

You come in if there's trouble.

Yes?

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon.

I'm looking for the address
of a Mrs. Bellane.

No lady of that name works here.

She was helping with your
charity f�te at Lembridge.

Oh, they were
voluntary helpers. I'm sorry.

We can't possibly disclose...

the addresses
of the voluntary helpers.

Well, isn't there some way
I can get it?

A mistake was made. She gave me
a cake that didn't belong to me.

Well, it's against the rules...

but I'll inquire.

Will you come through, please?

Come in, won't you?

I'm terribly sorry...

but I couldn't help it.

People have baked some sad-looking
pastries to sell at our f�tes...

- but was it as frightful as all that?
- "Frightful"?

That you'd come all the way
from Lembridge to give it back.

He hasn't any cake with him.

Have a chair.

You know, my sister has a...
a grim sense of humor.

Well, if it had been any good,
he'd have eaten it.

May I ask your name?

- Stephen Neale.
- I'm Willi Hilfe.

- Carla, Mr. Neale.
- How do you do?

Who was it you wanted?

A Mrs. Bellane.

Bellane... Bellane.

I don't remember any name like that.
We have so many of them.

- Do you know her?
- No. Look in the index.

Well...

You're not supposed to give, uh...
Why do you want it?

We got along quite famously, and
I'd like to see her next time I'm down...

find out how the mix-up happened.

Oh, I see.

You got along famously?

- Yes.
- Didn't her husband object?

Has she a husband?

It sounds like it.

- "Missus."
- Yes, it does, doesn't it?

"Bell"..."Belden"...

"Bellane."

Here she is.
Mrs. Rolf Bellane, a clairvoyant.

- Is that the one?
- Yes.

But she lives here in London.
209 Campden Lane.

Canon Topping
recommended her.

- Here you are.
- Thank you.

Could any of your volunteers be using
this organization as their shield?

- For what?
- Some kind of crime.

Our dear old dowagers?
Oh, no!

He tried to kill you?

There's just one bullet left.

He'd have used that
if the bomb hadn't got him.

But it's... it's... it's fantastic.
The whole thing.

I'd like to investigate
this Mrs. Bellane with you, Neale.

- I'd like to have you.
- Oh, no, Willi. Please.

If they tried to kill Mr. Neale...

something might happen to you.

Nonsense.

If they use our charity f�tes,
I want to find out about it.

- You may be right, Mr. Hilfe.
- Ah.

She's just tired
of getting me out of scrapes.

Got me out of Austria,
as a matter of fact.

Grow some gray hairs, Afferl.
You'll be stunning.

Come on, Neale.

- Good-bye.
- Good-bye.

What do you want?

- I-Is this Mr. Finney?
- No.

No? I didn't think so.

Is Mrs. Bellane at home?

- Who is calling, please?
- Mr. Hilfe...

secretary of the Mothers
of the Free Nations.

Will you come in?

Will you please wait a moment?

- Oh, I see.
- She's not the one.

- Mr. Hilfe?
- I'm Mr. Hilfe.

- Uh, Mrs...
- Bellane, yes.

I've heard many of the ladies
speak of you.

I should have paid a call
at your office long ago.

I would have enjoyed it.

May I present Mr. Neale?

Mr. Neale,
are you one of our group?

By adoption, yes.

Mrs. Bellane?

- Oh, I... I beg your pardon.
- We'll start at once, Doctor.

I have a group
waiting for a s�ance.

Won't you join us?
We can talk afterwards.

Yes, we'd like to.

Splendid.

I want to tell you about our f�te
at Lembridge. We took in over �100.

Oh, uh, were you there?

Yes.

I told fortunes.

I'm so sorry to keep you waiting.
You especially, Mr. Newby.

I know you have
to catch the early train.

Not at all.

Can you make room for Mr. Hilfe
over there, Doctor?

- Certainly.
- This is Dr. Forrester.

Mr. Hilfe.

And you, Mr. Neale, over there.

- Mr. Newby.
- How do you do?

Miss Penteel.

She has extraordinary powers
of painting the inner world.

Colored rhythmic arrangements.

Will you please form the circle?

Now, if you will all join hands...

before the lights fade.

We mustn't break the circle.

The lights will...

Oh, Mr. Cost.
I didn't think you were coming.

Always those customers
at the last moment. May I?

May I present our newcomers?
Mr. Neale, Mr. Cost.

- How do you do?
- It seems we've met before.

I'm sorry.
I don't believe I recall it.

This is Mr. Hilfe, secretary
of the Mothers of the Free Nations.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

The lights will fade now.

Yes?

Yes?

I can't hear you.

One of you won't...

let her come through.

Someone whose motives are evil.

You can speak.

There is no enemy here.

I had to find you.

I watched it too, Stephen.

Stephen, you sat there...

watching the clock.

I know.

You waited for me to die.

Was the poison strong enough?

The clock stood still.

You killed me. The poison!

The clock stood still.
You murdered!

Who speaks?
Who said that?

- Don't break the circle!
- Who told you that?

- Turn on the light!
- Turn on the light! The light!

Cost! Look at Cost!

What happened, Doctor?

Look after her, will you?

A doctor's no good, I'm afraid.

There's only one thing to do:
call the police.

He did it! He broke the circle!
All our hands were locked!

I didn't kill him.

- You have that revolver.
- But I didn't fire it.

There was only one bullet left.
It's still there.

You hold him here, Mr. Hilfe.
I'll ring up the police.

I'll not be drawn into this. You will
excuse me. I have to catch my train.

I'd advise you to stay,
Newby. The police will want all of us.

Well, I'll not wait in here,
with him.

Then go into the library.

Wait for me, Mr. Newby.

You have to believe me, Hilfe.

I've only your word for it
that there was one bullet.

It's the truth!

I'm done if the police arrest me again,
and someone here knows it...

- knows all about me.
- But why would they kill him?

I don't know.

He's the one who came
to Lembridge for the cake.

Oh, I see.

Give me a chance to find out, Hilfe.
I'll never clear myself behind bars.

I'd like to, Neale...

but I'd be in trouble myself
if I let you go.

I'm an alien.

You know what?

You might knock me out.

Go ahead.
It's a good alibi.

But get away from London.

Well, I've never said "thank you"
this way before.

Mothers of the Free Nations.

Mr. Neale?
This is Carla Hilfe.

Is your brother there?

No. There's a f�te at Bloomsbury.

He wanted to see
if there was anything...

anything like Lembridge.

- He told you what happened?
- Yes.

He said the police didn't hold any
of the others. They're searching for you.

I can imagine.

Where will you hide?

I don't know yet.
I thought I had a place...

but it seems
my unknown friends got there first.

Where are you now?

Longacre and Bend?

Wait there for me.

Come along.

Keep off the streets.
Down in the Tube.

There's the entrance.

Clear the streets, please.

I was afraid you'd be gone.
The air raid.

- I would have waited.
- I know a place.

We can't get through now.
A girl I helped out of Austria...

hid there until I got
her papers straightened out.

Down to the Tube, please. Come along.
We expect them over at any moment.

This way, please.

- It's hot, isn't it?
- Yes.

- Carla.
- What?

I wonder if you realize
what it means...

to stand all alone
on a dark corner...

knowing that somewhere one person
is coming towards you to help.

Yes.

It was that way the first night
I stepped off the boat...

in England.

It changed things.

I thought at first I could let you help
without telling you the truth, but...

You didn't kill him?

No. Not Cost.

I was sentenced here in London
two years ago... for murder.

What the voice said
at the s�ance.

- Your brother told you?
- Yes.

"Murderer."

Perhaps I was,
if thinking of the thing...

for months before you do it
makes you one.

Lying awake every night
thinking of it...

until at last you go out
and buy the drug.

I bought it to kill my wife.

She'd been ill for more than a year,
slowly wasting away.

She couldn't stand
the pain any longer...

and the doctors couldn't help her.

We'd come all the way
from her plantation in Africa...

and the doctors
couldn't do a thing.

She begged me then,
day after day.

I got the drug for her...

carried it home.

Then I couldn't go through with it.
I hid it in a drawer...

and she found it.

I didn't know
until just before she died.

The pain was gone then.

She smiled...

and held my hand
while she fell asleep.

I sat there for hours
holding her hand...

watching the clock.

Then it was dawn...

and there wasn't any more pain.

The court called it a mercy killing.
Sent me to an asylum.

I wasn't mad, you see...

but the law called for it.

I don't know
if I was right even now.

Anyway, you know.

Yes.

- It makes a difference?
- No.

I'd still like to help.

What?

He was the one at Rennit's office.

All clear.

What time is it?

Almost 5:00.

Did you sleep?

I thought our friend
with the fingernails might come back.

You won't need to worry
where I'm taking you.

Let's leave.

Here we are.

Not a word.
No murder, no Bellane, nothing.

- Why would the police keep it quiet?
- I don't know, but they have.

Probably want to keep me happy.

Ah, Miss Hilfe. Come in.

Come in.

I'm sorry to disturb you
so early, Mr. Newland...

but I had to see you.

You don't visit me often enough.

And who is this young man?

- Mr. Neale. Mr. Newland.
- How do you do?

In trouble, eh?
Come along.

You are very lucky, Mr. Neale...

having this young lady for a friend.

She's always helping people.

- You aren't Austrian?
- No, British.

He has to hide for a few weeks.

He isn't guilty,
but the police are looking for him.

Fine, fine.
The room where Maria stayed, eh?

- Do you mind?
- Not at all.

- What is it?
- Noticed a book here...

The Psychoanalysis of Nazidom,
by Dr. Forrester.

That's selling very well.
Bring a copy along, if you'd like.

- Thank you. I will.
- Who is Dr. Forrester?

He's a psychiatrist.
Getting quite famous here.

Sort of advisor
to the Ministry of Home Security.

Writes propaganda.
Interesting fellow too.

Purchases books from me
now and then.

Here you are.

Customers!

Sometimes I loathe people
who like to read.

Customers.

"Ministry for Home Security."

That's a nice place
to be an advisor...

at the heart
of Britain's defense system.

- You don't think he's a...
- He's a friend of Mrs. Bellane's...

and Cost wasn't after that cake
because he was hungry.

But that doesn't make
the doctor a spy...

just because he went to a s�ance,
any more than you or Willi.

I wonder if they're listed
in your volunteers.

Oh. Now the Mothers
of the Free Nations...

are turning into a spy ring.

Next you'll have me one.

No. You don't look like one.

Well, you can forget it. Willi and I
have run that office for three years.

And your dear old dowagers.
I know.

But Mrs. Bellane was listed.

Why not some of the others?

Dr. Forrester, Cost,
Newby, Miss Penteel?

The artist?
Was she there?

You know her?

I've never met her, but...

she has a studio
in the Old Arts Centre.

She auctioned off
some paintings for us.

The volunteer?

Yes.

I'm going back to the office and look
through every card in our files.

- Still angry?
- Of course.

A woman always hates
to be wrong.

Good.

Will you have dinner
with me tonight?

I'll meet you here.

Well, Mr. Neale.
You do get about.

I was just thinking the same.

Aren't you afraid of the police?

When they're nearby, yes.

It'd be a shame
if they found you there.

The building has
a bad enough reputation.

Won't you come in?

- Going to hold a s�ance here?
- No.

The last one was quite enough
for a while, thanks to you.

- You don't trust me?
- No.

- Where's Miss Penteel?
- Shopping. It's just as well.

You frightened her to death
once already.

Won't you sit down?

Whiskey and soda?

Thank you.

What did you have
against Mr. Cost?

I didn't kill him,
and you know it.

You're most attractive
when you're lying.

I'd even enjoy hearing you say
you were interested in me.

I am.

How did you know about me?

That microphone,
or whatever it was.

I always try to frighten people
the first time they come to a s�ance.

They love it. I never thought
it would make you start shooting.

How did you know about me?

Your trial testimony
was in all the papers...

and my assistants keep
an excellent file on people.

They couldn't have looked me up
as quickly as all that.

You'd be surprised.

You surprise me continually.

Did it ever occur to you
that some women like affection...

even better than conversation?

So do some men...

if they're sure they're not
going to be shot any moment.

Take the bullets out of it
if you want to.

I only carry it for protection.

You don't miss much.

I seem to be missing
a lot today.

You're a strange person.

I tell you all my trade secrets,
and still you don't trust me.

Why did you say
you told fortunes at Lembridge?

Why? Because I did.
I was there.

You weren't the one
who told mine.

Oh! That female battleship...

with the moons and stars?

- That's the one.
- She was some Lembridge woman.

She wanted to keep the booth open
after I left and practice her palmistry.

Well, she did,
and I got the cake.

I suppose you don't know
about that either.

Of course.
But how did you get it?

- What was in it?
- I don't know.

Was there supposed to be
something in it?

That's the truth.
The lady in the cake booth...

asked me to let
her gentleman friend win it.

If someone came to me and said,
"Don't bother about the past.

Tell me the future,"
I was to give him the correct weight.

- Did you say that?
- Something like it.

Oh, well, that explains it.

Now are you happy?

I've got exactly nowhere.

Neither have I.

Come in, Martha.

Police! Help!

Murder! Police! Police!

- She would.
- I'll keep the gun.

To remember me by?
You might need it.

You should know.

Won't I see you again?

Yes.

Oh, there you are.
I was worried about you last night.

- That was a pasting.
- I know.

I got caught in it.

What's this?
A housecleaning?

It's going to be.

We've been patriotically
slaving for three years...

to help a spy ring.

What? Oh, nonsense!

Here. Look at these.

"Adamson." Never heard of him.
"Aiken."

Both recommended
by Dr. Forrester.

- "Alpock."
- Dr. Forrester.

- "Cost."
- Newby, Penteel.

All those at the s�ance.
All recommended by Dr. Forrester.

And he works
for the Ministry of Home Security.

- How did these get in our files?
- I don't know.

Get Mrs. Merrick in here.

Yes?

Do you know
how these cards got here?

"Mr. Aiken." Oh, yes.
I remember filing him.

His name struck me
as so odd.

This is one of the batches
you mailed me.

- I mailed you?
- Yes, from Kent...

while you were
on your holidays last year.

- I've never seen them before.
- Oh, but I'm sure, Miss Hilfe.

They're just as you always send them
from meetings and such.

I, uh... I may be wrong.
Thank you, Mrs. Merrick.

Oh, not at all.

They even know
how we mail our cards.

They're Nazis, Willi. I know it.
The same as they were in Austria.

It's the way they work...
all around you...

knowing about everybody,
everything... where to find you.

- That night they hunted us...
- Carla.

Not the old fear again?
We aren't there now.

- But they're here, in London.
- You're imagining too much.

Something's going on...

but you can't charge people
with being Nazis...

just because they belong
to a... to a charity...

especially an advisor
to the Ministry.

- The police would laugh at us.
- That is what I told Stephen, at first.

- Stephen?
- Mr. Neale.

He's the one that thought of searching
the cards, and he was right.

I'm going to show them to him.

Wait a minute.
How did you get in touch with him?

He telephoned for you.
He's safe now.

I took him to the bookshop
where I hid Maria.

- I wish you hadn't done that.
- Why not? You're helping him.

Yes, I know.

But I'd rather you didn't get
mixed up with him.

But why, Willi?

You don't think he killed
that man, Cost?

I didn't... then.

I've checked up on him. He was
sentenced for murder two years ago.

He told me.
But it wasn't murder.

Even the court called it
a mercy killing.

And you still want to help him?

Yes.

You're not, uh, falling in love
with him, by any chance?

Yes...

very much.

I can go to
the Ministry of Home Security...

at least try to tell them.

They'd suspect you
before anyone else.

It's your organization. You're aliens.
You can't take that chance.

We took longer chances
than this in Austria.

You're not afraid?

- Yes.
- Good.

So am I.

When I left Lembridge,
I told Dr. Morton...

I was coming to London
to spend a quiet life.

It's been like riding
down the side of a whirlpool.

From what you say
about the Ministry...

Willi and I are only
a half turn behind you.

We'll get out of it, all right...

even if I have to drown
some of these Free Mothers first.

- You wouldn't object?
- No.

Someday, when I get back
to that quiet life, I...

I want to ask you
if you'd be interested in it too.

Willi asked me
if I was falling in love with you.

And?

I said... yes.

Newland's Bookshop.
Oh, Dr. Forrester.

A pleasure to hear from you, sir.

I've found a set for you.

Oxford Medicine, by Christian.

Nineteen volumes.
Is that correct?

Tonight?

I don't know.
You're quite far out.

Oh, here? Just a moment.

Regal...

Court...

flat...

twenty-nine.

Has the porter a key?

Right. I'll have it there
before blackout time.

Miss Hilfe, did you hear that?

Yes.

Nineteen volumes!

Are you two going out
to get some dinner tonight?

- We'll drop them off for you.
- Would you?

Thank you very much.

A book is all right
for mental stimulation...

but if there's anything I loathe,
it's struggling about the streets...

with great quantities of print.

You spoke of the porter.
Won't the doctor be there?

No. He's out at his nursing home.

Has a collection of maniacs
he psychoanalyzes.

It's Regal Court, flat 29.

The porter will let you in.
Put them anywhere.

And please don't forget my valise.
Leather's hard to get.

All right.

Thank heaven
for youth and strength.

Twenty-nine? Yes, sir.

Mr. Travers left orders
to let you in.

"Travers"?
But these are for Dr. Forrester.

You must be wrong, sir.
We haven't any Dr. Forrester.

But 29 is right,
and Mr. Travers is expecting books.

We have had
some incorrect names, sir,

where a gentleman
has a hideout from his wife...

but those gentlemen were not
spending their time with books.

- There you are, sir.
- Thank you.

Not at all, sir.

"Travers," eh?

He needs a few books!

Nobody lives here.

No cigarettes,
no personal belongings, nothing.

The line's dead.

We'll save Mr. Newland's leather
and get out of this place.

Awake, eh?

You've been hard to find,
Mr. Neale.

Who was the girl?

- What girl?
- That went into the flat with you.

- I was alone.
- You were when we found you.

- The porter saw her go in.
- That's very interesting.

A mysterious girl.

I don't see her, and you don't...

but the porter does.

Did you kill her too?

You're much better
at that occupation...

with your bombs in suitcases.

Oh, now it's my bomb, eh?

Or one of your Nazi friends.

Nazis, bombs.

They shouldn't have let you
out of that asylum, Mr. Neale.

- We ought to have a record of all this.
- I've said all I have to say.

You'll say quite a bit more
before you leave here.

And just where am I?

Scotland Yard.

Where'd you think?

Inspector.

Stephen Neale.
Questioning by Inspector Prentice.

File number 2H-LJ-14.
Charge: murder.

I didn't kill him.

- Who didn't you kill?
- Cost, at Mrs. Bellane's place.

We haven't heard
about that one.

But the police were there
when we had the s�ance.

There's been
no such murder reported.

A friend of mine saw them.
They questioned him.

What friend?

You wouldn't know him.

- They must have posed as police too.
- Who?

The people at the s�ance,
the ones who tried to kill me.

They're enemy agents... Mrs. Bellane,
Dr. Forrester, the psychiatrist.

Forrester?

Not the advisor to the Ministry?

Yes. He telephoned Newland
at his bookshop to kill me with that bomb.

Have the doctor give him a sedative.
I'll talk to him later.

Wait. You asked for the truth,
you listen to it.

I have all their names.
Look at the cards in my coat.

There weren't any cards in your coat.
Spies, s�ances...

You've been very careful
not to mention George Rennit.

- Rennit?
- When you're ready to tell me...

what you did to him,
let me know.

I didn't do anything to him.

No, I didn't think so.
Of course you didn't.

He left his office with you.
Wasn't seen again alive.

His body was found near
Battersea Bridge. He was bludgeoned.

You are charged
with his deliberate murder.

I don't know what happened to him.
I didn't even know he disappeared...

until I got back to his office.

Well, that's better.

You were with him, then.

Yes, I retained him to find out
why they tried to kill me.

They were after something
hidden in a cake that I won.

Cake?

I know I sound insane.

You are, without doubt.

Inspector, wait, please.

I know my record.

You can send me back
to the asylum on any charge.

I don't care what you do with me.
But you can't take it on yourself...

to say that German agents
aren't working here in London.

You saw that bombed apartment.
I tell you, they did it.

- I ask you for one fair chance to prove it.
- Name it.

It's a long chance,
but it's the only one I have.

There's a bomb crater
at Blackmoor Factory near Lembridge.

I want to search it to see if there's
any trace of what was in that cake.

There was a cake.

Where was he standing?

Here, by the corner.

Here.

Cover every bit of ground.

Here is a coat.

Or what's left of it.

- The blind man's?
- Yes.

It's the piece from that gun.

- Rather convenient for you to find it.
- At least I was here.

It might be your gun
that you used on him.

There's nothing about spies on it.

- Inspector, is this anything?
- The cake box.

Or part of it.

- Where was it?
- The edge of the crater.

A bird was pecking away at it.

Where did he find it?

It must be here somewhere.

If we could sift this dirt...

Drive over to the factory.
Get some screens and shovels.

Yes, sir.

He was ruddy well
scattered about.

That does it, sir.

Satisfied?

- Pack up.
- Very good, sir.

I never used to like birds.

What is it?

Drawings or something.

We'll ask the Ministry.

Watkins, turn it off.

I don't know how they could
have been photographed.

I assume full responsibility.

They've only been out
of the vault twice...

for the Saturday conference...

and yesterday.

They would have killed more than
one man to recover these, Mr. Neale.

They're the new embarkation plans
and our Channel minefields.

- We've been a great help.
- Mr. Neale can identify some of them, sir.

With your permission,
I'll get along with arresting them.

- They might still have prints.
- I doubt it...

or they wouldn't have gone
to such lengths to recover the negative.

I don't think we can take it for granted
that the charts are safe.

I don't either, sir. I think someone
came here and photographed them...

again yesterday.

You said that they were
out of the vaults again.

- Yes.
- This Dr. Forrester...

He hasn't been here for two weeks.

He's done splendid work
for the Ministry, Inspector.

- Hard to believe that he's involved.
- Perhaps not, sir.

Were any of his friends
here both days?

Not that I know of.

That tailor he recommended
was here again yesterday.

Measured Parkins for a suit.

Mr. Travers?

- May I speak, sir?
- Surely.

Someone named Travers
leased that apartment...

where Inspector Prentice
found me.

- Could you tell me his firm, sir?
- Travers and Brathwaite.

May I use your phone?
Thank you, sir.

Would you get me
Travers and Brathwaite, tailors?

Are you there?
This is Mr. Pauling.

Would it be possible to be measured
for a suit this afternoon?

5:30. I'll be there.
Thank you.

With your permission, sir.

Mrs. Bellane,
209 Campden Lane.

Miss Penteel, Old Arts Centre.

She keeps yelping for the police
every time she sees me.

Newland, Newland's Bookshop.
That's all.

Bring 'em in.

Yes, sir.

Why are you protecting that girl?

- There wasn't any girl.
- And that friend you mentioned?

I've told you everything I know
that can be of help.

My friends have nothing to do with it.
I don't want them involved.

That's a fair answer.

Follow me in five minutes.

- Good afternoon.
- Oh, good afternoon.

- What can we do for you, sir?
- I'd like to see Mr. Travers, please.

Certainly, sir.
Won't you please take a chair?

I'll tell him you're waiting, sir.

The gentleman over there, sir.

One moment, Mr. Pauling.

- Good tweeds here, Travers.
- Thank you, sir.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Travers.
- Good afternoon.

You wish to see me, sir?

There's no one I'd rather see.

I don't understand.

Excuse me one moment.

Hello. Mr. Macklin?

This is Travers and Brathwaite.

Your suit was dispatched
an hour ago, sir...

I trust in time for your journey.

Thank you very much, sir.
I felt very satisfied myself...

at the last fitting.

Oh, yes, sir.
I think when you've worn it once...

you'll find the shoulders will settle.

No, sir.
I find we'll not be able to...

repeat the trousers.

Oh, it isn't a matter
of coupons, sir.

The manufacturers have
no more of the pattern.

Personally,
I have no hope, sir.

No hope at all.

Prentice!

Police!

He's Cost, the one at the s�ance.

Excuse me.

- There's Travers.
- That's Travers, huh?

Hello?

Hello?

Is anyone there?

- Oh.
- Oh.

- Why didn't you deliver Mr. Macklin's suit?
- I did, guv'nor, just before I came here.

- You must've gone to the wrong address.
- No, sir.

46 Prince Consort Mansions,
like it had on the box.

That's all right, then.

Mr. Travers was quite put out.

Oh.

Neale.

Why, Carla said...

Come in here, man.
We thought you'd been killed.

Not quite.

Carla took me back to that apartment.
You disappeared. What happened?

- Is she here?
- Yes.

Carla.

Finally saved up enough coupons...

to buy a decent suit.

Carla.

Yes?

He isn't a ghost.
You'd better tell her.

- Why did you come here?
- Why not?

The man saved your life.
Aren't you going to thank him?

He'll kill you, Stephen!

He's the one who tried
to kill us with that bomb.

He gives the orders,
not Dr. Forrester.

There wasn't much else to do.

You were both finding out too much,
and you wouldn't stop.

It was too good
a charity to lose.

And you'd kill
your sister to save it?

You killed your wife.

People do such things
under the strain of necessity.

We've always been very close.

I was really happy
when I found her alive.

Put your hat and coat on.
We're leaving.

Vorw�rts!

The trouble with me is
I like people too much.

I liked you at first.

That's why I tried
to frighten you out of London.

I was quite happy
letting you hit me on the jaw.

I'm fond of that memory myself.

But you're
a persistent man, Neale.

If I had known that you were
going to keep on messing about...

you would have never left
Mrs. Bellane's alive.

Are you ready, Carla?

- Yes.
- It's a pity, Neale.

You could have led
a very peaceful life.

The films are sewed up
in that suit, aren't they?

Oh, yes. Cost said
the shoulders would settle.

Killing me won't get you
out of England, Hilfe. You're through.

Give me the gun, Carla.

Give me the coat.

You wouldn't shoot
your brother, Carla.

Come.

They're on the stairs.

- Can you make it?
- Yes.

Come on!

Put out the lights down there!

- Are they coming?
- I don't know.

Get the other magazine
out of the coat.

I've always dreamed
of having a church wedding.

We'll have music,
flowers, and a big cake.

Cake?