Original subtitles

People ought to be ashamed of themselves,

kicking up all that racket at this time of night.

What is it? Is it a fire?

Well, why can't they knock quietly?

Oh, blast it. We never...

It's about three doors down.

That's where Diana Baring is staying.

I say, there's a policeman coming already.

- Where? - Why, just coming around the corn...

Well, that's funny. I could've sworn.

No, you're right. Look, there he is, coming down the side of the road.

I say, that's Druce that's knocking.

Looks as though he's tight again.

Here. Here, where's my trousers? I'd better go down.

- What's this about, eh? - I want my wife!

- She's in this house here. - Take her home!

What, at this time of night?

My wife, Edna!

We came here to have supper with Diana Baring.

She's up...

Wait for me. I'm coming.

I can't stop now. I gotta see what's the matter with Druce.

What's the matter, Mr. Druce? Anything wrong?

I want my wife!

Will you please take this man away?

Come along now, Druce. There's a good fellow.

No. Stop it.

Here! Open this door, will you?

Open this door!

- Hold on one second. - Open the door!

- Open the door! - Open the door!

Open the door, for the love of God!

Open the door, for God's sake.

One of you run down to the station and ask the inspector to come.

Tell him it's serious.

Is this woman a lodger of yours?

No, but Miss Baring is.

And she had Mrs. Druce to supper with her tonight.

As a matter of fact, it was about...

Well, you see, Mr. Constable, both these ladies are... I mean, were...

We're all members of the company playing at the Theatre Royale this week.

And as I was leaving the theater... You see, I'm the stage manager,

and Mr. Druce here, he's the general manager.

You see, when I left the theater tonight, I was invited to join them.

Wait. Wait a minute, wait a minute. One at a time, please.

Oh, they've killed you, Edna. They've killed you.

Tell me, darling. Who done it?

Did she do it?

You always hated Edna.

Thought yourself too good for us...

with your high-and-mighty ladylike ways.

Now, sir, pull yourself together.

Oh, leave me alone.

Is there any brandy in the house?

You'll find some brandy in the flask on the table.

I was just giving some to Edna, when...

when...

I can't think.

I can't remember.

Why, there's none there. It's empty.

I'll run back and fetch some.

Perhaps you'd like a cup of tea, dear.

It'll warm you up.

I'll go and make it.

I'll give you a hand, dear.

Oh, shall I light this gas, dear?

Please, dear. It's still hot.

It only wants a drop more in it.

Light the stove, will you, dear?

I, uh...

I suppose Mrs. Druce really is dead.

You know, uh...

You know, Diana never did get on well with poor Edna Druce,

and I know they hadn't been on speaking terms for the last seven weeks.

Miss Diana said nothing to me about it.

Well, it's a fact. You can take it from me.

I don't believe she could have done it,

though there's no denying she is headstrong.

I should say so.

Why, she gave in her notice the other day over Edna.

Who? Miss Diana?

Yes, but, uh, Druce didn't want to lose her,

so Edna would've been glad enough to see her go.

Then suddenly...

Suddenly, last night, she changed, asked if they couldn't make it up.

Diana was puzzled, but asked her home to supper.

I can't help feeling now that

she had some reason for getting Diana here alone.

Of course, perhaps, she being hot stuff like she is,

she thought one of her men was getting too keen on Diana Baring

and wanted her out of the way.

What kind of tea did you use, dear?

Oh, my dear, I've tried so many kinds, I don't really remember which this is.

I think it will be all right. Do you mind, uh...

- Open the door? - Yes, if you don't mind.

Here. I say, I've just made tea.

That's all right, Ma. We'll give her some down at the station.

Third act beginners, please.

Your call, Miss Baring.

That's Miss Baring's understudy.

There you are, see? Going on now.

Do you mind answering the door?

Answer the door? Of course he will.

Well, I don't know where we shall go.

Oh, Tom. Tom. Just a minute.

The inspector would like to have a word with you.

This is Mr. Tom Druid, Inspector.

How do you do, sir? It's about the murder, Mr. Druid.

Now, there are one or two points we are clearing up.

I suppose you didn't happen to see Mrs. Druce and Miss Baring

leave the theater together last night?

Yes, I did.

As a matter of fact, I remarked to Fane, our leading man, about it.

- He saw them as well, you know. - Why? Is it very unusual?

Unusual? I should say so.

Unusual? It's an absolute miracle.

As I was saying to my wife,

I said, "Annie, we m..."

Hold on, old boy. My cue.

Say, which of the two women is this?

Mrs. Druid?

No, I'm afraid you're unlucky this time, Inspector.

This is Handell Fane, 100% he-woman.

Mr. Fane's our leading man.

I assure you, Inspector, I'm not the other woman in the case.

I know that, Mr. Fane,

but I understand you saw the two women together last night.

Yes, just before I left the theater.

Then I went straight to my room.

Alone?

Yes. No. Stewart came with me.

He came and wanted to borrow some cigarettes.

He'd lost his case or something.

And after, I went straight to bed.

Say, excuse me. I'm on.

Reginald, darling, has that cat gone yet?

Oh, it's you, Constable, is it?

Don't you dare to try to run away from me.

Come here when I speak to you.

No, no, you don't.

That's the... bathroom.

Come here.

Are you afraid of a poor, weak woman?

He promised to meet here.

Say, who's that man?

Oh, that's our heavy lead, Ian Stewart. Very sound actor.

Is he married?

- How did he get on with the prisoner? - Excuse me, Inspector.

Say, how did he get on with the prisoner, Miss Baring?

Oh, so-so, you know.

Was he popular with the ladies?

Are you talking about Stewart?

He's a bit too popular, if you ask me.

At least, if you could call her a lady.

Now, Doucie. Remember, she's only just dead.

Oh, all right, all right.

I've never heard yet that telling the truth was a disgrace.

And everyone knew about Edna and Stewart anyhow.

And do I take it Mr. Stewart and Mrs. Druce...

Excuse me. My line.

Oh! Don't bother to show me through. I know my way.

This is not the first time, Reginald.

Everything's going splendid...

Well, perhaps I ought not to say "Edna and Stewart" like that.

But, Ted, you know what Edna was.

Anyone she liked the look of had to be roped in.

I can't wait any longer. Quick.

Quick! In here!

Excuse me a minute. Shan't be long. It's their change.

How do you do? No, I'm sorry. He's not here.

- What have they done with her? - Who? Miss Baring?

Why, she's down at the station, I expect.

Did she say anything, do you know?

Is there anything one can do?

Markham, you don't really think she's done it, do you?

Why have they arrested her?

I saw it with me own eyes.

She was with the poker in her hand, or just by her side, anyway.

- Blood. Covered with blood. - Oh, don't.

What's the matter with you?

Blood always makes me feel sick. Even the mention of it.

Well, that's all right. Here's your helmet.

- Here. Hurry up, Markham. - There you are.

Okay. On you go.

Members of the jury,

Diana Baring is indicted and stands charged

with the willful murder of Edna Druce.

To this indictment, she has pleaded not guilty.

It is your duty to inquire whether she is guilty or not.

I need not remind you

that in the eyes of the law, men and women are equal.

The crime of murder, in England, at least,

is judged dispassionately.

Neither beauty, nor youth,

nor provocation can mitigate...

She gave me the strangest look:

half surprised and half angry.

And she said, "How dare you?"

And I don't remember any more.

I-I just don't remember.

Whatever I did must've happened when I was not conscious of myself.

That's all I can say.

Our defense is a complete denial of all responsibility.

You've been able to observe the behavior of the prisoner in the dock

and in the witness box.

My learned friend has referred to her behavior as "hardened."

Gentlemen and ladies of the jury, is there anything so hardy

as the behavior of sheer innocence?

If you're convinced that the story of the defense

represents the facts of the case,

it is your duty to discharge the accused.

I should like to remind you that truth is often stranger than fiction.

If on the other hand, you are convinced that the evidence

is indeed fiction,

then I must tell you in the words of the counsel of the prosecution

that "neither youth, nor beauty, nor provocation

can be held to mitigate the crime of murder."

Go and consider the facts for yourselves.

Well, uh, ladies and gentlemen, we can't talk standing.

Would you ladies like to sit together?

Oh, I say, may we smoke?

Yes. I don't see why not.

Uh, that is, if the ladies haven't any objection.

No. Not at all.

Now, I think the best thing to do, if you agree,

is to allow me to go over the broad facts of the case.

Because after all, I think it's pretty clear,

and I really don't think it'll be necessary for us to examine

all the evidence again in detail.

Now, in the first place, the prosecution.

They say that the girl and the dead woman

were on bad terms.

They make it up.

Edna Druce comes to supper.

They both have a drop too much and begin quarreling about some man.

For instance, you heard how the landlady said

that she heard raised voices.

And the girl admits as much, but won't give the name of the man.

Now, that in itself is fishy.

The girl gets hold of the poker, loses her temper,

and there's an end of Edna Druce.

The prosecution argues that it has proofs.

Practically caught red-handed.

Girl's dress... all over blood, the poker at her feet,

brandy flask empty, and the girl half-silly.

And in addition to that,

no other person was known to have entered the house.

I think that's pretty clear.

I think you ought to mention that the girl comes of a good family.

Yes, but it's those so-called "well-bred people"

who are able to remain so brazen in the face of a thing like this.

Look at the way she behaved in the box.

Half a minute, ladies.

Let's get on.

Now take the defense.

They don't deny she did it,

but argue that their case is

that the thing happened when, uh, she was in a fit or something.

Surely it is clear to you that in the evidence for the defense,

the doctor put forward a theory

that it was due to the independent activity

of the suppressed experience.

In other words, disassociation,

which in this particular form is called a fugue.

So that a person displaying the strangest behavior

for a considerable period of time would be quite unaware of this

when he or she regained normality.

I think the best thing for us all to do

is to write down our opinions on a piece of paper,

and then we can see how we stand.

Whichever are in the minority...

can then give their individual reasons,

and the thing can be worked out that way.

That makes seven "guilty" and three "not guilty."

There are two not in.

I take it you haven't come to any decision at all.

I think the whole business is hateful.

There's too much responsibility put on our shoulders.

Either we've got to let her go free...

That's not fair to the rest of the world if she's guilty...

Or we got to hang her, and that's barbarous.

But if we recommend her to mercy...

Mercy? Is that what you call it?

Twenty years cut out of life...

The best years... And to spend them in hell.

Have you ever been inside a prison?

It takes a civilized community to think out a punishment like that.

I think you exaggerate.

It's no use confusing the issue like this.

People who do wrong have got to be punished somehow.

You can't run the world on sentiment.

No, but that's what we've tried to do. Save the unfit.

Get more children and make glorious wars to be rid of.

The whole world's a reeking pit of sentiment.

Your verdict, Mr. Shackleton.

Guilty, I suppose.

Who's the other one?

You, Mr. Matthews?

Is there anything special troubling you so that you can't make a decision?

No, no.

Well, what is it prevents you making a decision?

Well, nothing, really.

Well, have you made up your mind at all what it's going to be?

Uh, no.

You heard the case for the prosecution.

- That's pretty clear, isn't it? - Oh, yes.

And you know what the defense is, don't you?

Yes. But I don't quite understand

what the lady meant when... When she said no.

When-When she spoke.

My dear man, Mrs. Ward was only trying to tell you

that the defense was that murder was committed

in a fit of daytime sleepwalking.

Yes. But, the murder took place at nighttime.

Can you write?

- Uh, yes. - Well, will you please write down

whether you think the prisoner guilty or not?

Now, that leaves only three for "not guilty."

I'll give you my reasons for "not guilty."

The evidence for the defense by the doctor is to my mind conclusive.

Anyone who's followed the modern trend of psychological investigations

must be aware that any person

suffering from severe mental strain, such as the prisoner may have been,

following on so many rehearsals and things,

may bring about a certain condition

in which the patient is no longer either conscious of

or responsible for their actions.

We've already had evidence

that the prisoner's mind is a delicately balanced one

and quite liable through some hidden flaw in that mind

to become deprived of all consciousness

and readily enter into a state wherein the body is still functioning,

though no longer under the control of the will.

And it is on these grounds that I feel

that Diana Baring must have been the victim of circumstances.

I have no doubt that Mrs. Ward is right.

That being the case, it is quite liable to recur,

possibly with the same result.

Well, that's a point I hadn't considered.

Well, it's really important.

Because with this poor girl, you have to consider

not only this one tragedy

but others that may follow it.

There may be other crimes lying latent in her.

You mean there's a sort of dual personality in her?

One of these persons is violent and cruel, and the other, just an ordinary woman.

Of course. If we set this bad personality free,

we must be prepared to shoulder the responsibility.

Yes.

If we let her go, and anything should happen...

The blood would be on our hands.

Do you wish to alter your verdict, Mrs. Ward?

Now, Mr. Daniels, after all you've heard, does your opinion still remain the same?

Well, you know, I find it very difficult to believe

that a girl of that sort should do such a thing.

After all, she looks a perfectly ripping girl, you know.

Well, you know what I mean?

A sort of girl that one would like for a daughter.

I presume, sir, that an ugly woman would stand very little chance at your hand.

The thing you've got to decide, Mr. Daniels, has nothing to do

with the qualities of the young lady as they appeal to you.

Yes, of course. I know that.

But... dash it all.

Well, you know what I mean. It's...

It's pretty awful and all that sort of thing.

Setting aside the things you're thinking of,

what's your verdict?

Well...

Well...

Oh, guilty, I suppose.

And now we're practically complete.

There's just Sir John.

Well, don't dismiss me as easily as that, Mr. Foreman.

Yes, we mustn't be long.

Time is money, you know.

Time in this case, may I remind you, is life.

If I'm delaying you all, I apologize.

I admit that I am not...

a man of business.

I'm a poor actor.

Oh, come now, dear Sir John.

I repeat, the poorest of poor players.

And my time on the stage would be shortened,

had I not for years trained myself to,

how shall I put it?

To apply the technique of life to the problems of my art.

But today, ladies and gentlemen, that process is reversed.

I find myself applying the technique of my art...

to a problem of real life.

And my art is not satisfied.

In the first place,

I am fairly convinced that Diana Baring was telling the truth

when she said she remembered nothing.

In fact, I've been impressed by her behavior

all through the trial.

- But, my dear sir! - Oh, I say, Sir John.

Oh, please don't think I'm taking the same line

as our friend Mr. Daniels here.

He made a very gallant attempt.

But I assure you my reasoning goes a little deeper.

I am convinced further that she was again telling the truth

when she said she had drunk no brandy.

But you've forgotten the evidence of the police sergeant.

He said she smelled of drink and appeared dazed on arrest.

How do you know that was not the wine she had at dinner?

What about the evidence of Markham, the stage manager?

He found the empty brandy flask right on the spot.

Yes, but...

What about the evidence of the actor, Stewart?

He said the women had been enemies for some time.

Ah, he was the one who said the prisoner was rough

to Mrs. Druce on the stage once.

All pointing to her violent nature, Sir John.

Yes, but that was not altogether borne out by Fane.

You know, the, um... the female impersonator man.

But his evidence was of little use.

He was so obviously in love with the prisoner.

In any case, everything was perfectly clear when the body was discovered.

Why, the woman was actually caught in the room red-handed.

And found with a poker by her side.

And her dress all over blood.

And quarreling over a man.

That's right.

Any answer to that, Sir John?

Think of her personality.

She's not the kind of girl to get drunk.

Brandy in the flask was there.

- She doesn't deny it. - That's right.

Any answer to that, Sir John?

Not at the moment.

Then there is the question of whether anyone else entered the house that night.

- Landlady says not. - Girl says not.

- They were alone. - That's right.

Any answer to that, Sir John?

Not at the moment.

But have we taken it too much for granted that no one else could've done the murder?

- Says they were alone. - Says they quarreled.

- Admits it. - That's right.

Any answer to that, Sir John?

She does not admit it.

She says she doesn't remember.

Is that a guilty woman's answer?

- Red-handed. - Poker by her side.

- And her dress all over blood. - Stand out against all of us.

Make an exhibition of yourself.

- Waste of time. - Waste of money.

- Quarreling. - Brandy.

- Hands all over blood. - Any answer? Any answer?

Any answer to that, Sir John?

Well, now that we're all agreed on our verdict,

I can inform the judge that we're ready.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

have you agreed upon your verdict,

and do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?

Guilty.

Diana Baring, have you anything to say

why sentence of death should not be passed upon you

according to law?

It's absurd, I tell you. It's absolutely absurd.

Oyez, oyez, oyez.

Pray, silence, all of you, under pain of imprisonment

while sentence of death is passed upon the prisoner at the bar.

So the conference adjourned until tomorrow.

The Baring murder trial came to a conclusion today

with a verdict of guilty,

and a sentence of death was passed on Diana Baring.

And that is all the news. But here is an SOS

which has just been brought into the studio.

We've been asked by the commissioner of police to broadcast the following...

The, uh, brandy cocktail you ordered, Sir John.

Right.

Ring up Mr. Bennett, will you,

and ask him to bring me round details of the takings

for the last three nights.

Also to find out what the bookings are.

- Very good, Sir John. - ...kindly communicate at once

with New Scotland Yard, telephone Victoria 7000,

or with any police station.

This is the national program.

Our concert tonight is an orchestral one, given by the Radio Symphony Orchestra.

They start by playing the overture to Tristan und Isolde by Wagner.

Funny, that SOS coming on top of that other.

"Save her soul."

Save her.

If I'd stood up longer, I might've worn them down.

Why couldn't they see the girl as I did...

the rest of the fellows on the jury?

But anyone standing in the dark on a charge like that...

probably looks different from the same person somewhere else.

Ah, amusing, the way she stood up to everybody.

There's no doubt that's the thing that did her a lot of harm.

Yet it was that manner of hers that...

very attractive, I thought.

And I wonder what her feelings are now.

Who drank that brandy?

Why didn't I force that point home to them?

Easy to figure these things out afterwards.

The girl says she didn't drink it...

yet she admits she might have killed Edna Druce.

That's queer.

Why admit a big thing like that and yet be so sure

she didn't do a small thing, such as drink a drop of brandy?

All that, treated lightly today.

I'm sure I was right when I raised that point, and I feel more certain now.

How did we know that someone else didn't drink the brandy?

Perhaps there was someone else. That's the whole thing.

Whoever drank that brandy!

Mr. Bennett has come up to see you, Sir John.

- Hello, Bennett. - Glad you're back, Sir John.

Been reading about it all. Plenty of publicity.

Must've been awful for you, though, you having met the lady before.

Well, she wanted to become a star.

A year ago, that was.

I suppose you can say in a sense that she has.

- A star in a murder... - Bennett, please.

Look here. Get hold of my understudy.

Tell him he'll have to go on again tonight.

Pray though that I get to return to the role.

Oh, and, um, get on the telephone straightaway

to my lawyer, Mr. Rice Sr.

Oh, I can give it to you. Temple Bar... 5993.

Yes, sir.

I want you as well to get hold...

of as many as you can of the members of that company...

You know, the touring company concerned with the murder.

In particular, the...

funny little man, the stage manager.

I forget his name.

I'll see him at the office in the morning.

TEMPLE BAR 5, double 9, 3.

But I thought the trial was over, Sir John.

No, my dear, Bennett, the trial is not over,

by a hell of a long way.

Well, is it a stunt, then, Sir John?

A stunt? This is a lying man's stunt.

Oh, they're engaged, sir.

Oh, very well. I'll try myself later. Don't wait.

No, don't worry, don't worry.

Diana Baring...

Why did I send her away?

Told her it'd be good for her to gain experience in the provinces.

"Good for her."

And now she's come back.

Eh, I think, uh,

boiling it all down, dear, I think perhaps we'd better, uh,

accept Sir John's offer after all, don't you?

Oh, yes. Either that one or one of the other two.

It's all the same to me.

That'll be Sir John himself. I don't think.

Oh, well.

Seems she won't let us stay on here any longer.

That means Lucy will have to go back to her aunt's...

Oh, I mean...

Sophie will have to go back to her Aunt Lucy.

I don't want to go to Aunt Lucy. I want to come on tour with you.

I can't let you go back to Sir John's! Here's a letter!

I really thought you were kidding me! I really did!

What's this?

From Sir John himself.

He'd be happy if we could be at his office at 12:00.

- Can we really do it in time? - I think we can if we try.

Bye, everyone.

Can you let me have the loan of a rub of benzene?

Dear, I don't think...

Petrol will get the shine out of this suit.

There's a job for you! Look sharp about it!

Have you got a nice, clean hankie?

Here, I think so, somewhere.

- Ted? - Yes, dear?

What you done with me nail polish?

I haven't seen it. Here.

I hope this...

hope this smell of petrol goes off.

Oh, well, you can blame it onto the car.

I think we shall just about do it.

I say, my dear, you owe me.

That's all right, missus. I promise your bill shall be paid the first.

I'm not referring to bills. It's two seats I'm after.

- Two seats for the first night! - We'll give 'em to you.

How do you do, Mr. Markham?

Nicely, thanks, Sir John.

Oh. How do you do, Sir John?

- Won't you sit down? - Thank you.

You know, it seems to me, Mr. Markham...

that we artists have a double function.

We use life to create art,

and we use art to...

How shall I put it?

To criticize life.

- You agree? - Oh, certainly, Sir John.

Yes, I knew you would.

Now, Mr. Markham,

between artists...

do we always fulfill our double function?

Are we not so much occupied in using life to create art

that we forget our other function?

I foresee your objection. You're going to say,

"What opportunities does the round of daily life offer?"

I wonder... If you ever saw a problem play I once did...

- Pistols for Two? - Oh, yes.

- You did? - Yes.

What the critics describe as a highbrow shocker.

Now,

when a highbrow shocker occurs in real life,

does the public call in the actor?

No.

Mr. Markham, I read your thoughts.

You know, you're saying to yourself,

"This man is, um, talking to his hat."

- Oh, no... - Oh, of course you are.

Otherwise, you wouldn't be the practical man I take you for.

You're also wondering to yourself why on earth I've brought you here.

Well...

That brings me at last...

to my object.

Now, yesterday and the day before...

I was on the jury at the Baring trial.

You impressed me both as an artist and as a man.

By the way you gave your evidence.

Now, I want from you, if I'm not being too indiscreet...

- Oh, no. - ...the inner history of that case.

What is it that...

See, now, of course...

Bennett talked over with you the question of that engagement?

- Well, sir... - You see, we'd rather...

rather hoped that you'd be free to take on the stage management

when I send off this tour at Christmas of the...

The Green Eye.

I also thought of working out some arrangement of a yearly basis,

but we can easily talk that over later with Bennett, can't we?

Oh, thank you very much indeed, Sir John. I...

Well, I am free at the moment.

And I've had a lot of experience I'm sure will come in very handy.

Oh, that's... Then that's settled, huh?

Uh, yes.

What? What is it, Mr. Markham?

Well, it's my wife, Sir John.

You see, we've always been joint, as you may say, and...

Well, would it be asking too much, Sir John, if...

if a part, I mean, any part that you...

I see. Mrs. Markham acts.

Acts, Sir John?

Well, perhaps it's not for me to say, but...

But my Doucie... Well, you may say I'm prejudiced, Sir John,

but I've been stage manager now for ten years,

and it is a fact that a wife, even a good one,

is not always the right thing to have in a company,

if you understand what I'm getting at.

But my Doucie, my wife,

well, professionally, she's been my right hand.

And there's no one she can't play at 24 hours' notice or less,

from a Gladys Cooper to a Marie Lloyd part.

- I beg your pardon. - No, no, no. Go on, do.

I was going to say she has her off days, of course.

Well, who hasn't?

Yes. I mean, only last summer I had to speak to her seriously about it.

She'd had a quick change-over from a barmaid

to a Salvation Army lass.

And it told on her. There's no doubt about it. It told on her.

After about a week, I said to her straight out,

"Now look here, my dear, this can't go on.

If you can't pull yourself together,

we shall have to go into Shakespeare."

Well, she didn't say much. Not more than was reasonable.

But she thought it over, and for the rest of that tour,

I'll give you my word, Sir John, she was Tallulah.

Pure Tallulah.

- Where is Mrs. Markham now? - She's downstairs waiting in the...

One minute then. Let's... send for her to come up.

Is that you, Bennett?

Oh, no, no. I'm sorry. No.

Oh, Bennett, Mrs. Markham is somewhere downstairs.

Would you have her sent up, please?

Yes. Yes, of course. Up to my room.

Now, Mr. Markham, about this trial.

I confess to feeling very uneasy about it.

You see, I played a part in the thing, the part of a juryman.

And it was not until the curtain was rung down on the death sentence

that I said to myself...

"This is not a play, this is life."

Life can be less kind than your dramatists, Mr. Markham.

Life permits a beautiful and unfortunate girl to go to the gallows.

Unless...

art, for once, can bring its technique to bear.

Good Lord, do you mean to say you think she's...

Innocent, my dear Markham, yes.

It was assumed she was guilty because she didn't deny it.

- Yes, but I saw the... - What did you see?

Diana Baring sitting beside the dead body.

She was dazed, you say. What was the cause?

Drink? She hardly ever touched anything.

Then who did? Think it over, Mr. Markham.

Then there was the pain in her head.

Was she examined by a doctor?

Might he not have found traces of a blow if he'd examined her?

But, no, he didn't. He assumed, like everyone else,

that she was guilty because she didn't deny it.

And there was no further investigation, no inquiry.

Think it over, Mr. Markham.

You know, I feel the most terrible responsibility.

I was one of the 12 people who decided the fate of this poor girl.

I'd found myself caught up

with the machine that makes these things...

Ah, Mrs. Markham, so good of you to come with your husband this morning.

Oh, I was quite glad. Glad of a breath of fresh air.

What a charming place you have up here, Sir John.

And Piccadilly, with all the shops so near.

You'll... You'll stay to lunch, of course.

I find it difficult sometimes to wait to a reasonable hour for my luncheon.

Yes, I must say I feel the same way myself.

It's very rare that I can do without my little

tidbits in the morning, about 11:00.

Oh, Javier, a cocktail at once, please, and serve lunch.

He's engaged us, Doucie.

- Joint. - No!

Yes. I find Mr. Markham is free to join me.

So... please.

So I thought he could...

Oh, we can settle all that later, can't we?

Yes, please.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Oh, one moment, please.

In the meantime, success to our researches.

Your husband and I have been discussing the Baring case,

and we feel that if the murder were approached from another angle...

Oh, sorry.

We shall be able to arrive at a different result.

What?

What, and get Diana off, you mean?

But she can't get away from that poker.

Then you don't share our convictions that Miss Baring is not guilty?

Well... Well, I mean to say,

Diana Baring was such a nice girl.

I never thought for one moment she could've done a thing like that.

Didn't I always say, Ted, that anybody who knew her

never could've thought it for one moment?

Oh, Sir John, have you found anything out?

Are you going to take it up yourself?

Oh, we would be so glad to help, wouldn't we, Ted?

Shall we...

I really don't know where to begin this thing, do you, Markham?

Over there.

Well, uh... Well, yes, Sir John, I...

Oh, I see. Uh...

- Yes. I should say I knew where to begin. - Thank you.

Oh, can I help?

Sir John didn't know where to begin, Ted.

No, no. Let's, um... Let's hear it, Mrs. Markham.

I'm completely in the dark.

If your husband could show the way, I shall be more than grateful.

Go on. What is it, Markham?

Well, Sir John, I should say the best place would be

back at the town where the murder was committed.

Yes.

Do you think you could, um, spare me a day or two of your time?

Yes, of course we could, sir.

If I might suggest it, we could go over the ground.

You could show me one or two places connected with the murder.

But, uh, do you mean it might have been someone else altogether,

what killed Edna Druce?

Well, I don't know. It might've been somebody from outside.

How do you make that out?

Well, I don't know.

Miss Mitcham didn't do it.

And Miss Diana didn't.

So it must've been somebody from outside.

If it was, they'd have to get in,

and they'd have to get out again.

That's clever.

Well, what I mean to say is that

the first thing we've got to do is to

find out who saw somebody, apart from Druce,

anywhere near there at half past 1:00 that morning.

Well, Ted, for a start, there's that chap

we thought was a policeman coming round the corner.

Oh, that was nothing.

Just a minute.

I shall like to hear something about this policeman.

Well, you see, Sir John,

it was like this.

On the night of the murder, when the knocking woke us up,

I was over by the window slipping on my negligee,

and I popped me head out the window to see who was making all that noise.

And I saw the policeman coming round the corner,

so I said to Ted, I said,

"Hello, it's the police."

And then I took my eyes off him

to tell Ted here...

and when I looked again, there was no one in sight.

And then Ted said, "Yes, you're right. Here he comes."

And when I looked again,

it was a different policeman altogether.

- What had become of the first one? - I've no idea, sir.

He must have turned the corner and come back.

Is that the corner down there?

Yes, that's it, sir.

You're sure it wasn't the same man?

Well, it couldn't have been. We only took our eyes off him about two seconds.

Oh, blast.

Uh, is any more here, do you think, sir?

I shouldn't think so.

My God, that's Druce.

He must be crazy.

Here, we better get down.

You are not going in my house tonight.

Take him away, please.

He's done this before. The police have promised to stop him.

Yes, that's all right. Now come along, Druce.

- My wife's here. - Take him away.

Yes, I know, but you're much better off at home. Come on.

She will not see you. Please go away.

Come on. Come on, now.

The street up in arms.

Oh, this is terrible for me, this business is.

I shall have to move. I'm sure I shall.

Yes, well, uh, Miss Mitcham,

we'd like to show this gentleman around.

That is, if you don't mind.

May I?

Oh. Yes, sir. Of course.

Yes, certainly. Will you come in?

Well, Sir John,

that's where they found the body,

right in front of the hearth there.

And, uh,

Miss Baring was sitting just about there.

Oh, by the way, did you ever get your poker back, miss...

Oh, I can't bear to talk about it,

especially with poor Miss Baring being where she is.

Why, you might as well convict "Cleopatria."

Do you think anybody could've got in from the back of the house?

You see, just beyond the backyard, there's an alleyway,

and just beyond there, there's the theater.

Look, sir. The dressing rooms are at the back.

Yes, it'd take quite an athlete to get in that way.

I don't see how anyone could get in here

with this aspidistra filling up the window.

Anyway, without upsetting it. And look at the size of it.

Yes. It's a fine plant.

Unless, of course, it was somebody who knew the room.

But Miss Baring did not have any visitors.

Only Mrs. Markham now and again,

and Mr. Fane and Mr. Stewart to tea,

and Mr... What's his name?

The little man with the squeaky voice.

- Oh, Tom Druid. - Yes. Yes, that's him.

"Squeaky voice." That reminds me.

In your evidence, Miss Mitcham,

you said you heard angry women's voices.

- Yes, sir, I did. - Would you swear to that?

Oh, yes, sir. You can't mistake a woman's voice.

You know, I had known a contralto...

Oh, yes, but this was high, quite high.

Miss Mitcham! Miss Mitcham!

Oh, my God, Miss Mitcham. Where are you?

The kitchen chimney's afire, Miss Mitcham!

That's Alice.

One moment, Miss Mitcham.

Excuse me, sir. I can't stop just now.

That Alice of mine has set the kitchen chimney afire.

- Didn't you hear her calling? - No, no, no. That was me.

Or is it "I"? Do you know, Markham? I never know.

Oh, no.

I'm ashamed to say I played a trick on you, Miss Mitcham.

Now, the high voice you heard that night...

may not have been a woman's.

You've just admitted it.

No. I have not admitted anything.

And I don't hold to playing such tricks.

And I'd like to ask you, sir, what you mean by it.

Brought me out all of a tremble.

And you, too, Mr. Markham, standing there, grinning.

You realize that your evidence as it stands may hang Miss Baring?

Now, I'm not blaming you. Not blaming you, Miss Mitcham.

But you swore that you heard women's voices quarreling.

And I have to prove to them that it might have been a man's voice,

especially a high-pitched man's voice...

just like Mr. Druid's.

Oh! I'd do anything for Miss Baring.

Oh, can't something be done now?

Yes, yes. Now, you're going to help us further.

First of all, could you show us some more of the house?

Miss Baring's bedroom, for example?

Yes. Certainly, sir. This way, please.

I don't think you'll find much in here, sir.

There's a few of her things over there on the windowsill.

I didn't like to send them to... where she is now, sir.

Oh, I think she'd like them.

Well, let me have them, and I'll send them on.

Why, it's one of you, sir.

Lot more places to go to, Sir John.

Thank you.

Thank you very much indeed.

Thank you for doing this.

Yes. Lot more places, Sir John. There's the Stage Door.

And then we'll go round to Stewart's lodgings.

Then we might go to the police station, chat with the inspector.

He knows me. And then, um...

Then we can go across to the Red Lion, have a sandwich,

while we're talking to the proprietor.

And then... Oh! And then if Stevens, the policeman, is still on his beat...

Yes, I think that's about all we can do.

Oh, yes. We'll find out something if it takes us all night.

I thought perhaps, um, a little dinner.

Oh. Oh, that's all right, Sir John.

Don't you worry about Doucie and me.

We've had to go without before, haven't we, dear?

Oh, I should say.

Well, shall we begin, Sir John? This way.

Evening, mate. I've called to see if any of my people left anything behind.

No, nothing, except that there broken basin

in number four dressing room.

That was some of your chaps up to their larks.

And never paid for it neither.

Whose room was that?

Uh, Fane's and Stewart's, I believe, sir.

No, none of our people broke that, mate.

Oh, there is something for you.

This cigarette case left behind in number four.

You'll know who it belonged to.

Oh, righto. When I find out whose it is, I'll forward it.

Can we see that dressing room?

Uh, I'd like to see that broken basin.

I'll take you 'long.

Where does that window look out to?

The private houses round the corner.

I wish I knew who broke that basin.

Uh, lot more places to go to, Sir John.

Here we go, sir.

- Thank you so much. - Good day.

- Did you find anything? - No, nothing much.

Oh, honestly...

Well, here we are, Sir John.

And, uh, I hope you sleep well.

I expect you'll find she's left something cold out for you.

I'll be along first thing in the morning.

I shan't be sorry to... get to bed myself.

I must say, this street gives me the creeps.

Well, good night, Sir John. Come along, dear.

Good night.

I say, Markham.

Markham...

you don't think that I'd better

eat at the Red Lion after all, do you?

Well, that's, uh, just as you like, of course, Sir John,

but, uh, I thought you wanted to sleep at the policeman's house,

so as to be able to find out something.

I mean, that's why I made the arrangements.

I mean, considering we haven't found out very much today, I think that...

it'd be better if you did, sir.

Perhaps you're right.

- Good night, Mrs. Markham. - Oh, good night, Sir John.

- Good night, Markham. - Good night, sir.

You cry, they'll start crying too.

Take it, sir. They'll never know, sir.

Will you have the tray on the bed, sir or shall I pull over the chair?

Leave them things be!

Oh, please don't trouble. Just put the tray down somewhere.

I'll, uh... I'll see to it. I'll dress first.

Oh, don't say that, sir.

I know what you gents like.

"A nice cup of tea and a kipper before I get up,

- and I'm a new man." - Hmm.

That's what my last lodger used to say.

Stop climbing on that rail, Teddy!

Them children!

They follow me about.

"Ma" this and "Ma" that.

On my word, I don't have a moment's peace from morning to night.

What have you two been doing?

That's quite all right, really.

- He's got my Bootsy! - Well, I never did.

Wait till I get you downstairs.

Take this kitten down, and don't you bring it up here again.

Now, please... if you could put the tray on the table

and send me up some hot water at once, I'll get up.

Just as you like, sir, but...

Go downstairs and put on a couple of saucepans. Go on.

Now, why can't you leave him be?

Time and time again I've told you not to mess with the lodgers' luggage.

I'll have your father take you to the police station if you can't stop touching.

- They do keep on touching! - Mm.

Some lodgers don't like it.

For instance, I had a couple of 'em here a little while back,

and one of 'em give him a good slap for doing that.

You know the Baring case? Well, they was in it.

As a matter of fact, it was my husband what found the body.

Did him a lot of good, the Baring case.

Oh, well, I never!

She's taken a fancy to you.

There ain't many she takes to.

You got some of your own, I suppose.

Yes. Oh, yes.

You were saying... about Arthur and the luggage.

Oh, yes. Well, Arthur was messing about

with one of them's luggage when he come across what he thought

was his father's helmet and uniform.

Afterwards, I went up... Mr. Fane, it was... and I said,

"I don't like the idea of your hitting my Arthur.

Just because he found a stage uniform in your bag,

he only thought it was his father's," I said.

I felt a bit of a fool when I finished, because he simply turned round,

and he said he didn't know what I was talking about.

"Well," I said, "If it wasn't you, it must have been

the other one who was lodging with you, Mr. Stewart."

I meant to speak to Mr. Stewart afterwards,

but in the excitement of the murder, I forgot all about it.

Come in, my dear Markham.

I'd like to see you for a minute.

I'll send the hot water up, sir. Come along, now.

Don't encourage her too much, sir. That's right. Run along down.

Here, Arthur. Just come on, come on.

Now go in the street and play.

Don't you get run over. Go on.

That's right, go on.

Doucie may have found out something, Sir John.

Won't you sit down?

Thanks.

You know that cigarette case you found in the theater?

Last night I wanted a smoke in bed, just before I went off, you see?

So I took out that case.

Doucie saw it wasn't mine. Said, "I've seen it before somewhere."

I said, "Whose is it?" She said "Stewart's."

Then she took it. She noticed what I thought was a beer stain on it.

I said, "Better give that a rub-up before you send it back."

She says, "Wait a minute. That's blood on it."

And sure enough... Well, see for yourself, Sir John. Look.

I believe you're right.

Stewart.

Who wore a policeman's uniform in the farce you did here?

Uh, Fane and Stewart, sir.

Stewart had a quick change-over with Fane in the third act,

but Fane had a special uniform made to fit him,

so we had two uniforms in the company, Sir John.

You're an important factor in this case, Markham.

In fact, the most important at the moment.

Well...

we're all here to help, Sir John.

No. The most important factor seems to be a policeman

whom you did not see on the night of the murder.

You remember your wife saw a policeman coming down the street.

You went to the window, and you couldn't see one.

Then suddenly there was a policeman.

Now, Markham...

that policeman was two different people.

And for all we know, the first one

was not a member of the county constabulary.

You mean the first one was a fake, sir?

A chap in policeman's clothes?

Our next job is to find out the name of the man Miss Baring withheld.

Was he a member of the company?

Did he wear a policeman's uniform?

If she still refuses to give the name...

perhaps the cigarette case will help her to remember.

You mean, the name of the man they were calling about on the night of the murder?

This end, please.

Won't you sit down?

Oh. Thank you.

It's very good of you to have come.

But I can't help saying...

I'm extremely surprised.

Well, you see, I...

Naturally, I... I've taken a very great interest in your case...

Don't let's talk about it.

How's your play going?

Oh, pretty fair.

Of course, you know I was away from it some time

because I was on the jury of your trial.

I know.

- I wondered... - My country house is in that district.

As you know,

I can't discuss with you what happened on the jury,

but I do want to tell you...

Is Muriel Heatherly still playing lead with you?

Yes.

I do think she's such a good actress. Don't you?

Miss Baring, you remember our meeting?

- Oh, yes. - You do remember.

Of course. very well.

You see,

if I hadn't sent you away on tour to get experience...

you wouldn't be in this position now.

That's, in a way, why I feel...

a sort of... responsibility.

That's why I've come.

There might be... there must be... Some grounds for an appeal.

I knew that would happen.

I knew someone would try and get me off and think they were doing me a kindness.

Imprisonment for life.

Why, a week of it's nearly driven me crazy.

If they want to do the other thing...

they can.

I've fought it and got over it.

Except at night.

It'll be no worse than the dentist.

And if I have done this thing, in a fit, as they say I have...

I'm better out of the way.

As for the other thing,

if you're a friend to me, you couldn't do it.

Lock yourself up in your own room for one day,

only for one day, and see.

Tell me what I want to know...

I'll have you out of here altogether.

What is there I can tell you?

Tell me the name of the man discussed by you and Edna Druce.

I've said so many times before, he has no connection with the case.

Besides, I didn't quarrel.

I'll tell you now.

Edna Druce tried to say poisonous things about him,

and-and I just put my fingers in my ears and kept them there.

So that you actually couldn't hear a sound.

You couldn't have heard if any other person had come into the room.

No. I suppose I couldn't.

Why wouldn't you listen to her?

Because...

I knew what Edna was trying to tell me.

What was she trying to tell you?

I can't answer that.

It involved... somebody else.

Plenty of other people have been involved in this case.

Markham, Stewart, Druce, Fane.

Why shouldn't this one man's name be mentioned?

There was something...

something he daren't have known.

But which you knew.

Yes.

What was it?

You realize what you're admitting by your silence?

You're shielding this man because you know you're in love with him.

Oh, but that's impossible.

Impossible? Why should it be impossible?

I see no reason why it should be impossible.

Why, the man's a half-caste.

What's that? What did you say?

A half-caste? Black blood.

You've said so much. Tell me the rest.

What was his name?

I won't tell you that, ever.

Will this help you to remember the name of the man you were quarreling about?

Stewart's cigarette case.

That's not Stewart's. It's Handell Fane's.

Fane's?

You mustn't give the prisoner anything here, sir.

And the time for the interview has nearly ended, sir.

Oh, Sir John, please,

for these last few moments, let's talk about something else.

Yes.

There was a photograph of me in your room.

- How did you know? - I went there to make inquiries.

How did you come to get it?

I've always been keen on the stage, ever since I was a little girl.

One has one's heroes.

That's why I came to you for a job.

And I sent you away.

Oh, let's talk some more, quickly.

Diana, I...

Miss Mitcham sent me some of my things,

your photograph with them.

I've got it in my cell now. They let us keep some...

Come. Time's up, please.

Good-bye.

I'm going to find Fane.

- Handell Fane? - Handell Fane?

- Handell Fane? - Handell Fane?

What's become of Handell Fane?

- Any news of Fane yet, Markham? - Not yet, Sir John.

I'm trying some more of the agents, though.

Haven't you found Fane yet, Ted?

I can't bear the suspense. We shall be too late, you know.

Oh, for God's sake.

Hello? Hello? Hello, is that Lamberts, the agents?

Yes. You found Fane yet?

I want him for a most important job, you know.

Yes, at once.

What's that? Gone back to his old job?

What? Trapeze artist?

Under what name? Where?

No, can't stop now.

Got him at last.

Yes, that's him, all right.

Dressed up as a woman, eh? Hmm.

Always was good at that.

An extremely clever way of hiding.

- Markham. - Yes, sir?

I have an idea.

You know your Hamlet?

Every line of it, sir.

Then let me suggest for your consideration

the series of events embodied in act 3, scene 2.

That's the play scene, isn't it, sir?

Yes, the play scene.

Do you remember the title, The Mousetrap?

Yes.

Well, when he comes to my theater to read a part I shall offer him,

there'll be three of us.

Two cats to one mouse.

Yes, but what about the cheese, sir?

The cheese, yes.

The cheese will be a fat part, Markham.

A villain's part in a "blood and thunder"

in a play that I'm going to write specially for him.

A play based on a recent well-known murder case.

I imagine he will play his part,

as I hope we shall convince him...

to the life.

Come in.

- Can you give me a minute? - Certainly.

Oh. Who is that you have with you?

Of course, I remember. This is the gentleman you suggested.

For Armitage, Sir John, Mr. Handell Fane.

Oh, yes. Do come in.

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

- Sit down. - Thank you.

Oh, thank you.

Thank you.

No, Bennett, don't go.

I may need you.

You see, I always conduct these interviews so badly.

I'm just as likely as not to leave out the really important points.

Now, I suppose I'd better begin by an explanation.

I daresay Mr. Bennett has told you the author of the play?

No, Sir John. I understand you wish that to be kept a secret for the time being.

Well, I wrote the play.

That was a simple matter, but it's proving astonishingly difficult

to find the right person for one particular part.

Might I ask you to stand up for one moment?

Of course.

You know, Bennett, he looks it.

He looks it quite perfectly.

Exactly what I've been thinking, Sir John.

Would you mind... Oh, sit down, do.

Would you mind reading one or two lines, just to give me some idea?

- Of course. - I say, Bennett, this is quite illegible.

Tell what's-his-name, Waldren, to bring me in a clean copy of act III.

Thank you.

Sir John, might I ask you...

what kind of play is this exactly?

Well, you may question my taste,

but as an artist, you'll understand my temptation.

My subject, Mr. Fane, is the inner history of the Baring case.

Oh. Thank you.

Really, your... your indifference astonishes me.

Aren't I right in thinking that

you were a member of the Druce company at the time?

Yes, that is so.

Then you knew both women concerned.

Yes, I knew them both quite well.

Now, let's begin.

Oh, by the way, Mr. Fane, I understand you're appearing at present at the circus.

- Would that interfere? - No, it was my old job,

and I've gone back to it

because times have been a little difficult, and...

However, I understand you wouldn't be starting for two or three weeks.

No, I don't suppose so, no.

Let me give you some idea of the scene.

Here is a table in front of a fireplace, more or less as this is.

On the table, there's the remains of a meal

and of course the brandy flask.

You know, Mr. Fane... Of course, you know all the details of the case.

I can't help wondering why nothing spectacular developed

in connection with the brandy.

Thinking as a dramatist,

I can't help feeling that the brandy was not exploited

with sufficient imagination.

Then, of course, the law has no sense of drama, has it?

- No. - No.

Then again... now, let me see.

- I'm afraid I... - I thought it best to begin from a point

just before the actual murder.

There's a short scene between the two women

which turns into a quarrel.

In the middle of it, you make your entrance on the words...

I got this from the evidence...

On the words, "Friends?

I can tell you things about your friends that you don't know."

Just carry on from that point, would you?

Now, how on earth did you know the entrance was from the window?

That's how I've made him enter.

And look, Mr. Fane.

You've forgotten your script.

The script.

Now, where are we? Ah, yes.

"Friends? I can tell you things..."

Wouldn't it be better if I were to pick up the poker

from the back fireplace before I made the entrance to the room?

Excellent idea. I'll put that in.

Thank you.

May I have the poker?

No, I'm terribly sorry. We only have electric fires here.

Would this pencil do?

Very well. We must get on without the poker.

You can use your imagination, eh?

Now, then.

Through the window,

into the room.

You creep through the double doors.

The two women are facing each other.

You come slowly around, taking care not to be heard,

and gradually approach the one whose back is to you.

Now you raise the poker that is in your hand

as the other woman says,

"You fool! Don't you know that he's a half..."

What a pity, Sir John.

The scene isn't finished.

I was getting quite worked up to it.

I thought perhaps, Mr. Fane...

you might be able to collaborate with us.

I'm so sorry, Sir John.

I'm afraid I understand so little about playwriting.

Perhaps later on...

when the script is finished,

you'll allow me to give you another reading.

Find out what time Fane comes on tonight.

I shan't be a moment, Sir John.

How do you do, Sir John?

Markham.

Who'd have thought of seeing you here?

Well, you see, I'm, uh...

I'm working for Sir John now.

Yes. Mr. Markham is helping me with my new play.

I suppose you find brandy steadying for the nerves.

Mine's very nervy work, you see, Sir John.

You never know what may happen.

Hurry up. You're next.

I presume you've come to talk to me about...

that part again, Sir John.

You know perfectly well what I've come here for.

Hurry up, Fane. There'll be a wake if you're not careful.

If it isn't... How are you, Sir John?

Come to see the show?

No, not exactly.

I've really come to see Mr. Fane.

Sir John, if you wouldn't mind coming down to see me after my act,

I shall only be too pleased to talk over that little matter we were discussing.

For God sakes, play something!

Boy, that's it! He's done it on us!

Ah, Fane says he has decided to collaborate

in my play after all.

He says...

"The two women are standing, facing each other in dead silence.

They are so lost in the tension of the moment

that they do not hear the murderer

creep through the double doors into the room.

The murdered woman is at that instant going to speak.

The murderer springs forward.

He hurls the first woman aside.

She's stunned by the fall, but he doesn't notice it.

Infuriated,

he strikes out at the other woman with the poker.

She falls by the fireplace.

She's dead.

He nearly faints at the sight of the blood.

He drinks the brandy.

Then he sees the other woman beginning to stir.

He must get away.

Through the back window, a leap or two.

Finally, a climb into the theater dressing room."

That accounts for the broken basin.

"But how to get home undetected from the theater?

An idea...

The policeman's uniform he wore on the stage."

There's your policeman, Markham.

"He walks home a murderer,

a murderer on an impulse,

to silence the mouth of a woman who knew his secret

and was going to reveal it to the woman he dared to love.

There's a melodrama for you, Sir John."

Well, Markham,

you have it all.

Poor devil.

And Diana Baring...

she knew all the time he was a half-caste.