All language subtitles for The Gaunt Stranger

[ Doorbell ]

Yes?

Is this Mr Maurice Meister's?
─ It is.

From the Garden Of Flowers.

What is it?

From the Garden Of Flowers.
For you, sir.

Rather premature, isn't it?

Obviously a mistake.
Take the thing away.

Very good, sir.

But .. it is addressed to you, sir.

Mr "Maurice Meister".

Maurice Meister.

Will depart this life ..

On the 17th of November.

Did you say "The Ringer"?

Well, don't be crazy. It can't be.

What?

Lilies?

Just a moment. Sergeant.
─ Yes, sir?

You seen Richards about anywhere?

Try and find Sergeant
Richards, will you.

Very good, Sergeant.

How is Mr Meister now?

I see.

Alright. Well, tell him
I'll be right along.

Goodnight, Wembury.
─ I've a job for you, Lomond.

What .. now?

Can't I ever go home?

Someone has had his life threatened
and seems to be suffering from shock.

Ah, but Wembury I'm not a
doctor, I'm a Police surgeon.

Call me in when he's been murdered.

The threat is said to have come
from your favourite criminal.

The Ringer.

Don't be daft.

The Ringer died two years ago.

He's lying peacefully asleep at
the bottom of Sidney Harbour.

He was shot by one of
the Australian Police.

Of course I know that.
It seems it has upset Meister.

Yes, sir?

Richards, go along to this florist and
find out who ordered a wreath of lilies.

To be sent to Meister. And step on it.
─ Very good, sir.

You will find me down at his house.
─ Right, sir.

Who is he anyway?

He calls himself a lawyer.

He is also an informer.

And the biggest fence in
Deptford only we can't prove it.

A nasty big of work, eh?

Well, that's certainly the type
The Ringer used to go for.

Yes, I admit the men he
killed were asking for it.

So is Meister for that matter.

I'd give my pension to be able
to search that house of his.

Do you want me to give him an
anaesthetic while you do it?

No, I'm going home.

Goodnight.
─ You come along with me.

You ought to meet Meister anyway.

He's worth a chapter in that book on
criminology you say you're writing.

Oh, very well.

Where does he live?
─ In a big house down by the river.

Hello, Mary.
─ Hello, Alan.

I haven't seen you for ages.
─ Well, who's fault is that?

Nobody's fault. Just my misfortune.

Are you late tonight?
─ I'm a hard working secretary.

I can't spend my time gadding
about in limousines like you.

I like that. I'm here on business.

Oh, you mean Maurice?
─ Yes.

Do you know anything about this?

Nothing, I'm afraid.

Except that it's worrying
Mr Meister more than he admits.

A rather gruesome thing
for anyone to send.

Too bad he doesn't need it yet.

Now, Alan ..

I thought we'd finished with that.

I have to earn my living.
You should know that.

I suppose it doesn't matter the
sort of man you work for?

He's always been very kind to me.

Of course. He always is.
That's part of his method.

Must you be insulting?

Goodnight.

Who is the lady in the case?

Mary Lenley, Meister's secretary.

He seems to specialize
in pretty secretaries.

Lenley?

No relation to that ..?
─ Boy I put in jail a year ago?

Yes. His sister.

You do have a queer sort of way
of making yourself popular.

I suppose you have to do it.

Inspector Wembury, sir.

Evening, Meister.

This is a pleasant surprise, Wembury.
─ Dr Lomond, divisional surgeon.

Good evening.

Do you think he is necessary?

Evidently not. You seem to have
made a remarkably quick recovery.

From what?

Your butler seemed to think
you were badly shaken.

My butler is incapable of thought.

That's why he is my butler.

Ah, the floral tribute.

Who sent it, Meister?

That's for you to find out.

You're not being very helpful.

Perhaps I don't intend to be.
─ Then why call us in?

I didn't. My butler phoned you.

He still retains childlike
faith in the police.

I hate to say it Meister,
but you're scared.

Of what, do you think?

You know, you could do
with one or two of these.

They're good for the system.

Some people diet and some take exercise.

But these save a lot of trouble.

I like doctors slightly
less than detectives.

I find neither entertaining.

So perhaps you'll return when you've
found out who sent that thing.

Or better still, write to me about it.

Just a minute, Meister.

Are you quite sure The Ringer himself
hasn't got something on you?

I've never even met the man.
─ But you met his sister, Gwenda Milton.

Your secretary, wasn't she?

For a little while, yes.
─ Long enough to regret it.

In the end, she committed suicide.

Yes. It was very distressing.

You are not suggesting that I
was in any way responsible?

Some people thought so.

Some people thought so.

When Henry Milton was drowned,
I looked after Gwenda like a father.

Gave her work, provided for her.

Oh, it's all very discouraging.

The 17th of November.

That's the date that you're
supposed to die, isn't it.

Does that date convey anything to you?

The 17th? Yes, it's the
day after tomorrow.

And Gwenda Milton killed herself
on the 17th November last year.

Do you know Inspector,
I believe you are right.

That's why you were scared.

When you got that wreath you wondered
if The Ringer might be alive after all.

You knew that if he was,
he'd come for you.

You know, Wembury, you'll never
be a success in the Police force.

You've too much imagination.

Henry Arthur Milton is dead.

Very dead, indeed.

Mr Wembury, I found where the order for
the wreath came from. ─ Where?

From a line at the Baronia
by wireless telephone.

And the Baronia is due in at Tilbury
tomorrow morning. From Sidney.

Sidney?

Sidney.

That seems to ring a bell.

Don't be too scared. If he's alive we'll
try and get him before he gets you.

Come on, Richards.

I'll make you a present of these.
They might come in handy.

What's your hurry? The Baronia
is not due until tomorrow.

There's only one man in England
who can identify The Ringer.

He must be there when she docks.

You sure you can lay your hands on him?
─ That's the one thing I am sure of.

Hackett. Come on.

Hackett! Come on. Hackett.

What an anti-climax.

Come on Hackett, up you get.

Here, wait a minute. I know my rights.

A convict is entitled to 8 hours sleep.
See prison regulations. Go on, hop it.

Stand up, Hackett.

You are wanted in the Governor's office.

He's getting a bit haughty, isn't he?
Serve him right if I wasn't at home.

Come on, get dressed.

What, at this time of night?

I'll look terrible in the morning.

Ah Hackett, sit down won't you.

Would you like a cigarette?

Sam, we want you to help us.

What, help the police, Mr Wembury?

I ain't a traitor to my class.
─ Hackett.

Remember Henry Arthur Milton?

What, The Ringer?

Him that was drowned?
Not half I don't.

You are one of the very few people who
ever got a real look at him. Right?

I lodged in the same
house five years ago.

Just before he married
that American piece.

Do you think you'd know him again?

Well, not after the fishes
have had their way.

Sam, The Ringer may still be alive.

What?

You're kidding.
─ It's just possible.

We're taking you down to
Tilbury to identify him.

Thank you kindly.

Home, Nobby.

What's the matter, Hackett?
─ Scared?

Oh no.

I've always wanted to have my throat cut
since I was a little boy in silk drawers.

Here, listen.

Nosing on a dead man is one thing.
But nosing on a live Ringer is another.

I know a bit about The Ringer.
Not much, but a bit.

And I'm not telling that bit.
─ You'll get police protection.

Don't make me laugh.

He's a killer.

And a Hackett in quad is
worth two in the mortuary.

Sam.

You've still got a year of
your stretch to serve.

Correct.

If anything comes of this you
might get part of it remitted.

Here, wait a minute.

What's the caper?

It might be arranged. This
is a very exceptional case.

Supposing he is alive?

How am I going to recognise him?

Don't they call him The Ringer as
he rings the changes on himself?

Why, in Deptford they say he can
even change the colour of his eyes.

That's an old lag's tale.

What do you know about it?
─ Hackett.

Get him into his own clothes.

I'd perish without an overcoat.

You shouldn't have got
pinched in the summer.

I'll tell you straight,
Mr Wembury, I don't like this.

Do you think he's really on-board?

We'll know soon enough.

Probably too soon for my liking

Why don't you ask his wife?
Little Cora Ann. She'd have known.

She's in Australia.

Crikey, I wish I was.

It's summer over there.

This is all we have to go on. Can you
find out who made this phone call?

The operator will know
who made the call.

Ask him.

Operator? Purse?????r speaking.

A call was made at 3:20
yesterday to London.

Bank 9871.

Trace it please, and hurry.

Whoever made the call may have got into
someone else's room to do it, you know.

In that case we have to search the ship.

Have you a description of the man?

Our friend here may
be able to identify him.

That's right. I'm one of the big five.

Thank you.

The call was booked to Stateroom A61.

Who is occupying it?

A61 ..?

A Mrs Milton.
─ Who?

Mrs "Cora Anne Milton".

That's The Ringer's wife.

Wherever she is, he is.

This is where I alight, gentlemen.

Is she traveling alone?
─ Yes.

Captain's compliments.
Ask Mrs Milton to come up.

Give me A61 ..
─ Let me talk to her, will you.

"Yes? What do you want?"

That was a man's voice.
─ Yes. I think we owe him a visit.

Thank you very much, sir.

Bring Hackett along.
─ Come on.

Here, this is a scandal. I haven't
got my sea-legs yet. ─ Go on.

I'll write to Godfrey Winn about this.
─ Get a move on.

What's the idea?

Do you know anything about this fellow?
─ No. I'll ring the Chief Steward.

Suppose you give an account of yourself.
─ Oh, I should hate to spoil the fuss.

What are you doing in this cabin?

Why? Are you going to
arrest me, Wembury?

Who are you?

I don't forget faces.

Detective Inspector Bliss from Sidney.

Bliss?

Remember me now?

Bliss.

Weren't you at Scotland
Yard five years ago?

That's right. Bliss.

He once got me nine months
at the London sessions.

You've changed a bit, haven't you.
Where'd you get the moss from?

You shut your ugly mouth.

That's more like you.

Speaking of illegitimate
children, how are you?

Shut up, Hackett.

Traveling on business, Bliss?

How on earth did you guess?

Pure intuition.

Following Cora Ann?
─ I followed her aboard at Sidney.

Don't ask me if I've
got a search warrant.

Where is she?
─ With the passport officer.

Bliss, is The Ringer still alive?

I shouldn't be surprised.

But he's not on this ship.
─ How do you know?

I'm reporting to Scotland Yard,
not to Flanders Lane, Wembury

The man I believe to be Arthur Milton

Got in touch with Cora Ann
three months ago in Sidney.

A few weeks later she
left on the Baronia.

If he was The Ringer,
where the devil is he now?

We searched the ship,
accounted for everyone.

He wasn't aboard, sir.
─ I told you that.

Where is Mrs Milton? Is she here?
─ Yes, sir. Waiting next door.

In my opinion that's a mistake sir,
bringing her here. ─ Why?

Sooner or later, she'll lead us to
The Ringer. Why put her on her guard?

You're forgetting Meister.

Tomorrow is the 17th. There's
no time to play a waiting game.

You'll never get the truth out of her.

Dr Lomond might.
─ Who is Lomond?

A police surgeon in Wembury's
division. Acting for Bateson.

He's pretty hot on criminology and a
devil at getting the truth from people.

Do you think it is wise to drag
in an amateur at this stage?

I hope that's not a dig at yours truly.

Come in, doctor.

Thank you kindly.

Still taking those tablets?

Lomond takes pills for everything,
from toothache to a broken leg.

You're the only doctor I've met who
puts his faith in patent medicines.

What are they for?

Oh they're good for the system and ..
─ They save an awful lot of trouble.

If you knew as much about
doctors as I do, young fellow ..

You'd stick to patent medicines too.

So this is our colleague from Australia.

Oh I forgot. Dr Lomond.
Inspector Bliss from Sidney.

So you are Bliss?

You'll be the man that got
The Ringer two years ago.

I thought he was a bit ambitious
thinking he could swim across ..

Sidney harbour faster than
your bullets. But you got him.

Well I thought I had.

He darned nearly got me.

Tell me .. what was he like?

I never saw his face.

Well, you can't tell much from faces.

Look at his.

We've got dozens in our files like that.

Those are typically criminal ears.

Tell me, have you ever
committed a murder?

Not yet.

You will.

So you didn't find Henry
Arthur Milton on the Baronia.

No. He was probably over here already.

Then who made that call from the ship?

His wife. Why not?

Well, you probably couldn't see him
for looking if the man is alive at all.

Tell me, is his wife pretty?
─ Yes, very.

Well, what are we waiting for?
─ Yes, bring her in.

I tell you, you're making
a mistake, sir.

I think we know what we're doing.

Very well. Have it your own way.

If I'm wanted, I'm over in C.R.O.

A queer chap, Bliss.

He seems to have a been in his
bonnet about The Ringer.

I'm not a psychoanalyst, but I should
say he's got an obsession about him.

Well, perhaps you're right.

Anyway, here's his report.
It may help you.

He's a strange character,
Henry Arthur Milton.

A bit Quixotic, I should say.

He had his points. He saved
the hangman a lot of work.

True .. you think you know
enough to question his wife?

Aye. And I can look as
if I knew a lot more.

Which is one advantage
of being a doctor.

If you can get her to admit he's alive,
we should know where we are.

So would Meister.

Mrs Milton.

Come in, Mrs Milton.
─ Just a second.

I want to get the fly's
angle on your web.

It might be worse. Severe but sanitary.

Won't you sit down?
─ Why, thanks.

Wembury said you wanted
to see me. I can't think why.

Tell me, Mrs Milton. Why have
you come back to England?

It is my favourite country.

The Police are so wonderful.

Really? Is that all?

Is something wrong with my passport?

Aye. It describes you as a widow.

That's right. Who are you anyway?

Dr Lomond, Divisional Police Surgeon.

What is this, a medical examination?
─ No.

But I'm very interested in
your husband's health.

Tell me, how did you leave him?

Don't you read the newspapers?
My husband is dead.

I thought everybody knew that.

I wonder.

You know a gentleman
called Meister don't you?

I know a skunk by that name.

I can see that you've met him.

He was friendly with
Gwenda Milton, wasn't he.

She killed herself because of
him. If that's what you mean.

Just so.

And yesterday Mr Meister had a present.

Some very handsome lilies.

With a warning message
from your husband.

Perhaps it was a spirit message.

The order was phoned from
your Stateroom on the Baronia.

Does that surprise you?
─ It certainly does.

Do you still deny that he's alive?

Hey, what are you getting at?

Well, I'll tell you.

If Henry Arthur Milton is dead.

How is it that he was seen in Sidney
three months ago, with another woman?

That's a lie! There never was another ..

Well .. silly of me to
be jealous after so long.

But you see, I kind of liked Arthur.

Can I go now?

I'm afraid ..
─ Certainly.

Wembury, open the door for Mrs Milton.

It is "Mrs" Milton, isn't it?

Of course. Why?

Really, properly married and everything?

Twice. Once on a steamer
and once in a church.

A girl can't be too careful.

You seem to have taken every precaution.

But that didn't stop him going off with
somebody else when he wanted to.

Even though it was the
anniversary of your wedding.

You think so. That's the kind of a
thought a man like you would have.

Arthur thought of no-one but me.

He risked his life one day on King Street
to see me past, and I didn't know him.

So he is alive. And he was in
Sidney three months ago.

Thank you very much.
─ That's enough.

You've got nothing on me. I'm going.
─ Do you expect us to believe he can ..

Disguise himself enough to walk up King
Street and not be recognized by you?

King Street? He's walk
down Regent Street.

If he felt that way he'd come right here
to Scotland Yard and never turn a hair.

You can laugh, but he'd do it.

You could guard every
entrance and he'd get in and ..

Some water.
─ Mrs Milton.

What scared you?

She'll tell us everything in a minute.

Oh, will I?

Wembury, tell them to
get Mrs Milton a taxi.

There is nothing to be frightened
of here. What's the matter?

Well, I'll tell you.

It was seeing him.

You see, he nearly got
Arthur two years ago.

When I saw him here again, it
kind of frightened me. That's all.

Oh, it's just the man's face.

They are getting your taxi.
─ Thank you.

Well I guess that lets me out.
─ Oh, surely.

And listen.

Just stick Meister in cold storage
tomorrow if you want him to stay alive.

And don't be so darned sure
there is nothing to be afraid of ..

At Scotland Yard.

We've been asked to broadcast
the following Police message.

The notorious criminal
Henry Arthur Milton.

Otherwise known as The Ringer.

Is believed to be alive and in London.

"Will any person or persons .."

"Who can give any information
which may lead to his arrest .."

"Or who at any time came
in to contact with him .."

"Communicate with the Chief
Constable at Scotland Yard."

"Telephone number:"

"Whitehall .. 1, 2 .. 1, 2."

"No full description of
Milton is available."

"And he is believed to be
about 30 to 35 years of age."

"And it is known that he lodged in
a house in Rose Street, Deptford."

"During the summer of 1934."

"The police consider it likely."

"He is somewhere in the
Deptford district at this moment."

"Listeners in the area are asked to bring
anything that attracts their attention .."

"To the notice of the
Police, immediately."

"This message will be repeated
in the late news summary."

"That is the end of the news."

Hear that? They think he's in Deptford.

You'd better look under
your bed tonight.

It ain't right, making people nervous.

And them not even
knowing what he looks like.

That's right. Why, it might be anybody.

He might be standing right
next to us this very minute.

So he might.

Sorry to clear you all out like this,
but we're expecting trouble today.

The fewer civilians we
have about the better.

We quite understand, sir.

We'll tell you when you can come back.

Oh and keep quiet about this. We don't
ant it broadcast all over the place.

Now where is Hackett?

Hackett.

Come on.

What's the matter now?

I won't meet my death in this
collar, not for a million pounds.

Now look here, nobody is going to die.

All you have to do is to answer the door
and make a note of anyone who calls.

And if you see anybody that looks
like The Ringer, just signal the police.

They'll be watching.

Very simple, ain't it. I've practically
got nothing to do except risk my life ..

While you all sit around and watch.

No thanks. I've made up my mind.

I'm handing my resignation.
─ But it's Meister he's after.

He's got nothing against you.

No, I'm only going to give
him away. He'll love that.

Ha ha ha.

No thanks, doctor. I've decided.

It's against my better nature.
─ It will bring you a year's remission.

But it ain't honourable. My
ancestors will turn in their graves.

Never yet has a Hackett
been a Copper's nark.

It's a bit late to go back on your word.

A Hackett can always
go back on his word.

Listen now, you may be the
means of saving a man's life.

Who, Meister?

Give my kindest regards to The Ringer.
Tell him I highly recommend rat poison.

I beg your pardon, sir.

These goods want ordering.
─ What?

And this suit is to go to the cleaners.

Here, wait a minute, wait a minute.

That's Mr Meister wanting his breakfast.

You'd better take it up to him.

Here.

Breakfast?

Who pours out his lunch?

So you're going to stay then?

Well ..

I'll stay for breakfast.

This is fantastic. You
can't stop me going out.

Today is the 17th. If you go out,
I can't be responsible.

I'm defending a case at the law courts.

Give your clients a break and stay home.

We're turning the place into a fortress.

Why don't you send for the tank corps?

Your breakfast.

Great heavens. Hackett.

What the devil ..

I warned you we must get
your servants out of the way.

Hackett is taking your butler's place.

You mean to say I've got
to put up with that all day?

Let's get this straight. I'm
doing the favour. Not you, see.

Alright. Get out.

Here .. do you really want
this sent to the cleaners?

I suppose so. Why?

A bit of a waste, isn't it?
This being the 17th.

Still I suppose you'll want
it for the laying out.

That will do, Hackett.

I see he shares a popular superstition.
─ What's that?

That The Ringer is still alive.

So do I.

Then why don't the police
get out and find him?

Instead of staying here and annoying me.
─ We are doing what we can.

It's not very much.

Let him come.

I'll take care of him.

Yes, you'll be a hero by the
time you've finished the bottle.

[ Door knocks ]

[ Door knocks ]

Here mate.

Blimey, you must get
overlooked sometimes.

What do you want?
─ It's a case of whiskey for Meister.

That's what you think.

Just in the nick of time.

Any dead men?

What? Are you psychic?

What do you mean? I want the empties.

Oh .. come round tonight, chum.

I'll have these ready for you.
─ Alright.

Mary.

Good morning, Alan.

I thought I told you not
to come here today.

You expect me to take orders from you?
─ I expect you to use your common sense.

And desert friends
when they're in trouble?

Don't be a little fool.

Thank you.

Ah Wembury, what an extraordinary
power you have over women.

Oh, haggis to you.

Mary.

I didn't hear you knock.

Listen, can't we cut out this scrapping?
I never get a dog's chance.

You never gave my brother a chance.
─ How many times have we been over that?

You must realize I was only doing my job
and anyway Meister was the cause of it.

I'll never believe that.

I don't suppose you will.

So, even if we disagree about that,
we can still be friends, can't we?

Oh, I suppose so.

That's better .. and you'll go?

I certainly will not.

How very logical. Just like a woman.

That's a pretty little weapon.

Is it your own, Bliss?

No, Meister's.

Doesn't believe in taking
any chances does he.

Well, he needs protection.

With so many Police officers about.

Trying out the land?
─ You might call it that.

What are you up to?

I was reflecting that
if we catch The Ringer ..

It will be through
that pretty wife of his.

And I thought I might help the
investigation by taking her to lunch.

Do you think that's wise?

I sometimes think it
is folly to be wise.

When ignorance is bliss.

Hey, what do you mean?

Ah, Bliss.

Come on, let's get out of here.
─ Have you got something, Wembury?

Aye.

He's got a flea in his ear.

Alright, put it on the floor.

How long will you be?

In another half hour even
the daylight won't get in.

Nice work, boys.

Knock, knock.
─ Come in.

Your tea, Miss.

Thank you, Hackett.

How do you like it? Au lait?

Please.

As she comes?
─ Uhuh.

There you are.
─ Thank you.

I brought mine too.
I hope you don't mind.

Of course not.
─ Just for company's sake.

It's been a bit of a lonely afternoon
if you know what I mean.

Sorry, I didn't know you took sugar.
─ Yes, two.

One for me.

Blimey Miss, I don't know
how you can sit here.

When you haven't got to.
─ Surely it isn't as bad as all that.

You haven't been sitting in the kitchen.

It fair makes you creep.

Every time you hear a door bang.

You think it's .. you know who.

You get no peace.

The floorboards creek,
the boiler rumbles.

The tap goes drip, drip, drip.

And old Meister playing that piano.

La .. da .. da ..

All gloomy like.

Why can't he swing it sometimes.

Never mind, Hackett.
It will all be over soon.

That's just what I'm afraid of.

But don't you trust inspector Wembury?

If it wasn't for Wembury, I'd
be safe in jail at this moment.

Instead of risking my neck here.

But you're perfectly safe here.

There is a cordon of Police outside.

And don't I know it.

That's why I'm here.

They won't let me out.
─ And they won't let anyone in.

Even The Ringer couldn't
get as far as this door.

No, I don't suppose he could.

You've put new life into me, Miss.

Blimey, he's done it.

You answer it, Miss.

He wouldn't strike a woman.

Possibly.

Oh ..

Alright, I'll go.

Now you stay here until I come
back and tell you you're safe.

If I come back.

Oh good day. Could I see
the gentleman of the house?

Gentleman?

You've got the wrong address.
─ I beg your pardon?

Here, what's the caper?
Come on .. what do you want?

Well, I thought he might be interested
in our church bazaar on the 24th.

It's no use, chum.

Mr Meister won't be interested
in anything after today.

Oh, I'm sorry.

That's more than I am. Go on, hop it.

I beg your pardon?

Vanish. Fade.

Stand not upon the order of your going.

Oh but ..
─ Go on, scram.

Oh yes, well .. good day.

Good day.

Here you.

What's the trouble?

A fine police guard you are.

Letting him pass. He may
have been The Ringer.

Never mind, Sam.

Even if he had killed you,
we'd have got him.

A comic policeman.

Oh.

Oh ..

Ah ..

It's Johnny Lenley.

Sam Hackett.

It's me alright.

I was expecting somebody else.

You're not him, are you?

In disguise?
─ Not who?

The Ringer.
─ Don't be a fool. He's dead.

He's resurrected his self.

Oh Johnny, I'm glad you're here, boy.

Have you gone completely crazy?

I was crazy alright to take this job.

Johnny.

I've come down in the world.

I'm helping the police.

Well, what are you doing here? I didn't
know you were a friend of Meister's.

A friend? A friend of him?

I'd rather a friend to
a prison governor.

Where does this lead to?
─ Down to the river.

That's where Meister gets his goods in.

I got you.

And a nice line of goods they are, too.

Where is he?

Under the bed if he's got any sense.
There's trouble brewing here, Johnny.

Well you can count me out
of it. I've had enough trouble.

I'm going straight.

Have a drink before
Meister swipes the lot.

What are you doing here?

Come to see your sister?
─ Mary? She's not here.

She works for Meister.

You mean to say you didn't know?
─ I did not.

What's his game?

Johnny. You're a man of the world.

Have you ever seen a weasel
being kind to a rabbit?

Here he comes.

Don't let him know I'm here.
I want to surprise him.

Don't move.

Beauty and industry combined.

And how charming.

Oh Maurice .. how do you
expect me to do my work?

Perhaps I prefer charm to industry.

Meister!

Johnny!

Why didn't you tell me
you were coming back?

Oh it's wonderful to see you again.

Are you alright?
─ Not so bad.

But .. what's happened?

Johnny, you haven't escaped?
─ You don't escape from Dartmoor.

They let me out.
─ But, I don't understand.

We didn't expect you for ..
─ Six months yet.

They remitted my sentence.
I helped a warder some fool went for.

Oh Johnny, helping a screw ..

Clear out, Hackett.

"Mr Hackett" to you.

Alright, I'm going.
I know when I'm de trop.

Congratulations, Johnny.

I needn't tell you how glad I am.

How is it you're working here?
─ Maurice offered me the job.

He's been terribly kind.

It wasn't necessary.
I left enough money.

I'm sorry Johnny, but
there were expenses.

Your defense and so forth.
─ We'll talk about that later.

Of course, of course.

But you are back again now.

And there is nothing to
prevent you starting afresh.

I needn't tell you ..
─ No, you needn't.

Mary, I'd like a word with Maurice
alone on business. Do you mind?

But I'll see you again before you go?
─ Of course.

Meister, what's she doing here?

You heard.

She wanted a job so I gave her one.

Is that all?
─ Of course.

I hope it is for your sake.

My dear fellow, what's the matter?
─ I was thinking of Gwenda Milton.

Surely you know me better
than to believe that story.

I know you enough to believe anything.
That's why I'm taking Mary away.

I hope Johnny you don't
misunderstand my motive.

No, I don't. That's why she's leaving.

How do you propose to support her?

I'll get a job.

I should think so. An ex-convict?

Well, you've got enough money of mine.

By the way, where is it?

Your money?
─ You got the stuff, didn't you?

Oh I got the stuff, yes.
But unfortunately, I still have it.

What?

I wasn't able to get rid of it.

At the time I had too much on my hands.

I've been closely watched
for the last six months.

You'd better leave it
where it is, Johnny.

Besides, I thought you
were going to reform.

Surely, you're not starting your new
life on the proceeds of a robbery?

I've done my time, haven't I?

I've paid for that stuff 3 times over.
What have you done with it?

My boy.

You have a chance now
to start with a clean sheet.

Don't throw it away.
─ That's rich coming from you.

We learn by our mistakes, Johnny.

I am too deep in to change now.

Do you think I don't regret it?

You're stalling, Meister. You sure
you haven't planted the stuff yourself?

Then where is it?

If I tell you .. will you give me
your word not to touch it?

I don't trust you, Meister. Where is it?

Very well.

You know the empty house in
Camden Terrace? ─ Yes.

It is still mine. You'll
find everything there.

Hidden behind the cistern.

What's the number of the house?

Fifty-seven.

You're not going there, Johnny?
─ You'll see.

Think it over. Take it easy, first.
─ I've thought it over.

I'm going now, Mary.

Must you?

I've hardly spoken to you yet.

Is anything wrong?
─ Nothing I can't put right.

Something has happened. What is it?

Don't you worry about
me. I'll be alright.

Goodbye, Mary. And look after yourself.

You'd better go this way.

I'm taking Mary away tomorrow
and don't you try and stop me.

You still doubt my part of the interest?

I should hate to swing for you, Meister.

I don't think you would
achieve that honour.

Since even The Ringer
himself has failed.

The Ringer?

Then it's true.

Oh yes.

He's coming to kill me today.

Well today isn't over yet, Meister.

And remember this.

Any funny business and I'll
get you before The Ringer.

[ Telephone ]

Hello.

Meister.

Hello.

Yes, Wembury speaking.

Is that you, Wembury?

Meister here.

I suggest you put a man on the roof.

Of an empty house in
Camden Terrace tonight.

What's the idea?

You'll find it worthwhile.

Who told you about this?

A little bird sang in the rain, Wembury.

A little bird.

If The Ringer does bump Meister off,
he'll be doing a public service.

Late information again, sir?
─ Yeah.

I wonder who he wants
out of the way this time.

Better tell Atkins to take a couple of
men to the top of 57 Camden Terrace.

Goodnight.

Going now, my dear?

Yes.

Maurice.
─ What is it?

I've been thinking.

I don't see how I can
work here any longer.

Now that Johnny is back.

I thought you were going to say that.

You see how well I know you?
─ Then you do understand?

I'm a very understanding fellow.

But I hope you are not going to let
your whole life be directed by Johnny.

Because ..

Well frankly, I'm worried about him.

Why? What is it, Maurice?

You are the last person
in the world I want to hurt.

You know that.
─ Please, what's happened?

You saw yourself how he behaved.

He's planning something, Mary.

I begged him to go straight
but he wouldn't listen to me.

It looks as though he will
spend half his life in prison.

Where has he gone? I must speak to him.

He wouldn't tell me.

All I could do was to make him
promise to see me later tonight.

He's coming back here?
─ Yes.

I'll try again but I'm
afraid it is hopeless.

If only you could have spoken to him.
He might have listened to you.

But couldn't I? Even now?

Would you?
─ Well, of course.

When is he coming back?

At half past eleven.

I'll be here.
─ Thank you, my dear.

Oh just a minute, I forgot.
The police guard.

But Johnny will be coming the other way.

Perhaps you'd better do the same.

You understand?
─ Yes.

We'll have a little supper together.

Just you and me .. and Johnny.

I'll leave the door open.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

What the devil are you doing here?
─ Looking after you like a father.

Must you always be prying
about where you're not wanted?

What's that?
─ That's what I want to know.

It's addressed to you. I've just taken
it from a messenger on the doorstep.

Another gift from our friend?

Oh it's .. some gramophone
records I ordered.

But what business is it
of yours I'd like to know.

I'm sick and tired of the
police. Clear out.

Our orders are to give
you police protection.

I get no chance to forget it.

We're putting on a double
guard outside tonight.

I may be back later.

Now you understand? You're being
charged with being drunk and disorderly.

And with assaulting Constable
Jones in the execution of his duty.

That's right?
─ Yes, Sergeant.

I .. I'm no drunk.

Here .. what .. what about him?

What did he get for arresting me?

I'll fetch the doctor.
─ Doctor?

Here .. I did not hurt him that bad.

Doctor .. there is a drunk
I'd like you to look at.

Alright.

Huddersfield?

Sunderland.

Sunderland?

Yes, Sunderland.

Huddersfield.

Sergeant.
─ Yes, sir?

Has Richards phoned?

Yes, sir. He's on duty outside Meister's
house. Everything's quiet, sir.

He'll report every 20
minutes like you said, sir.

Heard more about The Ringer?

Not from this side. I had a cable this
morning from the Colombo police

Saying he was rumoured
to be there in June.

Colombo? That's the Indian Ocean.

He may have stepped off on his way from
Australia. But that don't help us now.

That's funny. It's gone.
─ What?

That cable. I put it in here
with the other reports.

Has anyone been at this desk?

Only Inspector Bliss, sir.
While you were out.

Bliss? Where is he?
─ He's gone out, sir. Didn't say where.

Alright, Sergeant.

Don't say anything to him about it.
─ No, sir.

If you don't mind, Doc.

Sunderland.

Get up will you.

I will have you know that the
law presumes a man innocent ..

Until he's found guilty.

Well, that shouldn't be difficult.

Now, Mister ..?
─ McBroon.

Oh, a Scotsman. He looks
alright to me, Sergeant.

What's that?

No, madam. He has not been brought in.

Alright.

A small scotch terrier.

That's me.

Lance Corporal McBroon of the H.R.I.

Heavy jowl.

Short bow legs.

Take those insults back.

No, it's alright. He's
not talking about you.

No? Well it sounded very like it to me.

Answers to the name of "Fluff".

A gentleman dog.

Alright, madam.

We'll let you know as
soon as he's brought in.

Goodbye.

Now, Mr McBroon, can you
say "British Constitution"?

Sure.

What did I tell you?
He's as sober as I am.

But doctor ..
─ Sergeant.

I wouldn't like to say he's drunk.

As a matter of fact you know, a Scotsman
is never drunk while he can breathe.

A lady to see you, sir.
─ A lady?

Why ..?

Cora Ann. Come around, come in.

Only my best friends call me Cora Ann.

I'm the best friend you ever had.

You think so?

You know why I've come?

I have a notion if there's a man in the
world that can ever catch Arthur Milton.

That man is you.

You think I'm a good detective, eh?

No. I've just a feeling
you're naturally lucky.

Hmm .. and what do you want, Cora Ann?

A drink.

Doctor, you're a gentleman.

Come along and have a drink with me.

Bring the wee lassie with you.

So long.

Doctor.

Why not stick to your stethoscope and
let Scotland Yard do its own dirty work?

Why don't you forget
The Ringer, Cora Ann?

You think he wants me to?

I don't know.

But is any man worth
what you're suffering?

Sooner or later we'll get him, you know.

Can't you see that's what I'm scared of?

You are daft, Cora Ann.

Why?

A pretty girl like you
hooking on to a shadow.

It's a dog's life.

Do you really love him so much?

I guess so.

No. It's not a matter for guesswork.

You're old enough to
know where your heart is.

In my mouth, most times.
─ Poor lassie.

I'd like to help you.

Are you being medical or just familiar?

You don't really object.

Forget my Scottish shyness,
but I like you, Cora Ann.

I'm only thinking about
you, waiting, waiting.

Why don't you give him up?

And find some other interests in life?

Myself, for instance.

I've made my choice,
and I'm staying put.

When Arthur Milton tells me
I'm through, then I'll go.

And I'll go my way, not yours.

And where are you off to, Cora Ann?

Just work that out for
yourself, Dr Lomond.

Hold him there.

A C.I.D. charge, Tom.

Where is Wembury? I want to see him.

Fetch Inspector Wembury.
─ Yes, sir.

Acting on information received, I kept
observation on 57 Camden Terrace.

Where I saw the prisoner come up
from the attic and search the cistern.

Lenley, when did you get out?
─ Yesterday morning. I'm on license.

You fool.

You don't have to tell me. Look here ..
─ That will do. What's the charge?

Being on enclosed premises
with intent to commit a felony.

Who tipped you, Wembury?
It was Meister, wasn't it.

You're not obliged
to answer the charge.

But anything you say will be taken down
in writing and be given in evidence.

Take him to the cells.
─ Take your hands off me!

You can't do this, Wembury. I came out
far too soon for Meister, I tell you.

Come on.

Alright, put me in the cells.
Do what you like.

I'll get out and I'll get Meister! He's
not fit to live I say! I'll get him.

Phew.

Good evening.

Just a minute.

Where are you off to?
─ I've been invited away for a weekend.

What have you got in the bag?

Only my golf clubs.
─ Come on.

I think I'd better take that bag.

Has Reginald Foort heard your organ?

"I think I'd better take that bag."

Hello, Meister.

Cora Ann.

Don't worry. I'm alone.

How very indiscreet.

But I rather admire
indiscretion in a pretty woman.

Oh, cut that out.

Where is your dear husband?
─ He's here in Deptford.

Why don't you go away?

Out of the country.
Somewhere he can't find you.

Are you trying to frighten me?

Frighten you? He'll get you,
Meister. I know he'll get you.

My dear girl, you mustn't
worry about me.

Worry about you?

Hey, if I could lift my finger to
save you from hell, I wouldn't.

It's Arthur I want to save. Not you.

Go away, Meister. Give him a chance
to forget he wants to kill you.

I don't want him to swing for you.

He'll swing, but not for me.

He's sent you to get
me on the run, but no.

I'm staying here.

In this house where I'm safe.

If you're killed, it will be
right here in this room.

Where you broke your sister's heart.

Here, you fool.

Not such a fool as
to walk into that trap.

I'm staying here.
─ Alright, stay.

And listen to the ticking of that clock.

And say to yourself ..

That every swing of the pendulum is
bringing you a second nearer your death.

Meister.

Meister.

Are you listening?

Gwenda Milton died a year ago tonight.

She was my sister.

I'm coming for you, Meister.
I'm coming for you.

Hackett.

Hackett!

Hackett.

He can't be here.

I want a gun.
─ Want what?

A gun.
─ That's alright, Sergeant.

Inspector Bliss wants an automatic.
─ Right, sir.

You going ratting?

Yes, but you needn't be afraid, Wembury.

I'll have a gun too, please Sergeant.
─ Right, sir.

What do you want it for, Bliss?
─ What's that to do with you?

This isn't Scotland Yard you know.
It's my division. Flanders Lane.

Any reason why I shouldn't have it?

No, none.

Have you forgotten the routine, Bliss?
─ Eh?

You haven't signed for it.

No doubt they do things
differently in Sidney, eh Bliss?

As a matter of fact, they do.

I bet you didn't sign for the gun
you missed The Ringer with.

I didn't miss him. And I
shan't miss him next time.

Unless of course, you get him first.

Yes. Stranger things have happened.

You've got a theory, eh?

It's almost a conviction.

Well, leave police work to policemen.

Milton is a very dangerous man.

Has a cable come for me?
─ Not yet, sir. Might be at the Yard.

I told them to forward it.
─ Will it be addressed to you, sir?

It wouldn't make any difference
to you if it wasn't, would it, Bliss.

You're becoming quite
a detective, Wembury.

Wembury, did you know Bliss at all
well when he was in England before?

Not particularly.

An you didn't recognise him at
first sight when he came back?

Not at once. Why?

It was just a notion I had.

Ha .. no, you're wrong, doctor.

Bliss had a letter from the chief
in Sidney. I know it was genuine.

Aye, but does he?

What do you mean?
─ I mean is Bliss .. Bliss?

Is he the man who nearly got The Ringer
two years ago, or is it somebody else?

He showed us his scar, remember?

Aye, but they exchanged shots.

The Ringer was hit, too.

I've just remembered something else.

Do you know the exact hour
when Gwenda Milton died?

If I remember rightly, it was
half past eleven, wasn't it?

Look.

You mean Milton will try and
get him at the same time?

Carter, ring Meister's number quickly.
─ Yes, sir.

Get me Deptford 3672.

I'll get questions asked in the House of
Commons about this. You see if I don't.

Hackett!

They can't do this to me, Mr Wembury.

Now as I'm one of you.
─ What is this?

Saw this man on the Bankside at Deptford
and I asked him what he had in the bag.

He refused to open it.

Why should I gratify
his vulgar curiosity?

You know, I've the ear of Scotland Yard.

And then he tried to run away.

I strolled off at a dignified gate.

What's in the bag?

I don't know. I found it.

It was leaning up against a
wall, and I said to myself ..

I wonder what that there is.
Just like that.

What did the bag say?

Mr Wembury, I'm innocent.
Why, I was on my way here with it.

As we're in league with each other,
it's the first thing I thought of.

Let's have a look.

Well, what's this?

Why .. bless my heart and soul.

If it isn't old Meister's silver teapot.

Well, what a coincidence.

Bad luck, Sam.

What do you mean?

I ought to get a reward for this.
─ You will.

Charge him.
─ Yes, sir.

Ah well, I don't mind.

Going back to jail will
be like going home.

You don't know what I've been through.
─ Search him. ─ Come along.

Name?

Samuel Cuthbert Hackett.

Address?
─ Buckingham Palace.

No address. Occupation?

Chambermaid.

[ Telephone ]

[ Telephone ]

How the devil did you get
through the Police guard?

I didn't.
─ What?

Old Meister's got a private
way down to the river.

Holy mackerel.

No reply from that number, Sergeant.
─ No reply from Meister's house.

Keep ringing. Put him through when
you get him. ─ Very good, sir.

That's the way I slipped out.
And thankful I was, too.

And I can tell you something else.

I passed somebody going in.

And a cold hand went
right across my face.

Could The Ringer have
known about that way out?

Don't know about him.
Johnny Lenley would.

If you find him, he may say something.
─ Lenley? I'll get him.

What, is he here?

Duty desk.

No madam, we have not found your dog.

Gone! Door was open. Cell is empty.
─ What's that?

He must have got out through the yard.
─ Lomond, Bliss went that way.

So he did.

It's passed the quarter.

Let's go. I'm thinking we'd
better be going by ambulance.

Ask the Yard to warn all stations
about Lenley. ─ Thompson.

Better get an ambulance round.
─ Make it snappy.

And get hold of Atkins.
─ Right, sir.

I don't know much of that cold hand
was cold feet, but you're coming too.

Bring him along. Come on, Lomond.

Duty desk.

I'm sorry madam, but my attention
was distracted by an irksome trifle.

The Flying Squad reports that
your Fluff has not come to light.

Yes, I could .. I could
make several suggestions.

Supervisor, please.

[ Telephone ]

[ Telephone ]

What's wrong, sir?
─ Meister not answering the phone.

Nobody has been in or out.
─ Come on, Atkins. ─ Right, sir.

Excuse me, sir. This lady
is waiting to see you.

Why, Cora Ann.

You're not going in there?
─ Oh, but we are.

Oh you fools. You're risking your lives.
─ The little lady is right, bless her.

You mustn't go in. Listen, there is ..
─ She's wasting time while he gets away.

Keep an eye on her, Officer.
She's a very dangerous woman.

Stand by there.

Have you seen Inspector Bliss about?
─ Not tonight, sir.

Meister!

Meister!

Clark, break it down.
─ Right, sir.

Blimey, he's dead.

Don't look at me.

He was alive and kicking when
I left. Cross my heart he was.

He's just unconscious.

Booze and the jitters I should think.
His heart is not very strong.

But he'll live.

For a while yet.

I never thought I'd be
glad to see him breathe.

He was frightened alright.

Oh, aye.

Where is the door?
─ Over here.

Here it is.
─ Go on, open it.

Richards, send 2 men to the back of the
warehouse. It's where the passage goes.

Right, sir.

It's as if he's expecting somebody.

Yes. A female.
─ Who?

Cora Ann?

Or Johnny Lenley's sister.

Charming little sewer-rat, isn't he.

He's coming around.

Wake up. Wake up, Meister.

That's it.

You can go home.

Did you hear that?
He's withdrawn the charge.

Ha.

What's the time?

He promised to be here
at half past eleven.

Meister, listen.

Has The Ringer been here?

The Ringer?

The Ringer?

I'm safe from him, do you hear.

Safe from him.

I'm not afraid.

Dead.

Dead.

As his sister.

I give you the toast, gentlemen.

Here is to a beautiful ghost.

Gwenda Milton.

Atkins, see to those lights!
─ Yes, sir.

Richards, stand by Meister.

The door! Somebody is coming.
─ Keep still, everybody.

[ Female scream! ]

I've come for you, Meister.

Meister.

Meister.

Try them now, Atkins.

Where are you going?
─ I think I'm going to be sick.

Oh no you don't.

Lenley.

He's dead alright.

What the devil ..?

It couldn't have been him. I
grabbed him as soon as he came in.

Mary!

We found this young woman sneaking out
the other way, sir. In the warehouse.

Johnny, was it you?
─ No, I didn't do it.

Mary, it was you who screamed?

Meister was expecting you, wasn't he?

No woman's hand ever struck that blow.

Aright Sergeant, you get back.

Richards, take these people into Miss
Lenley's room. I want nothing disturbed.

Very good, sir.
─ Don't worry, Mary.

I'll be getting a stretcher.

Come on.
─ Wait.

Just a minute, doctor.
─ Eh?

I think I know who killed Meister.

You know, but ..

How did he get in and .. what's more to
the point, how did he get out again?

I think I know that, too.
He's still in the house.

You mean ..?
─ Lomond, I know The Ringer.

You do?
─ You are The Ringer.

What the ..?
─ Stand still.

Don't be ridiculous.
I'm Doctor Anthony Lomond.

Doctor Anthony Lomond died in
a hospital in Colombo last June.

Here is the cable I was waiting for.

You let Lenley out and you fused these
lights with a cap of a medicine bottle.

Let me see that bottle, will you.

Alright.

You win.

These will save a lot of trouble.

Here!
─ Too late.

These are not good for the system.

I give myself five minutes.

I've got away from you before and
I've got away from you again.

I've been right under your nose
and you've never spotted me.

Yes, I took Lomond's place when he died.

I killed Meister.

And I'm glad I did.

Did I say five minutes?

Yes, better call the hospital
and warn them to stand by.

Take it easy, boys.

So you thought you were set to put The
Ringer away. You forgot he had a wife.

Who's not afraid to shoot, Bliss.

He's going away alright. With me.

Too late, Cora Ann.

Arthur!

I took my own way out.

Carry on, Bliss.

You shouldn't have done this.
You know we'd have licked them.

I promised you that they'd
never take me alive.

You drove him to this!

What if he did kill Meister?
He deserved it, and you know it.

He was your friend. And you killed him.

Cora Ann, let's get him to hospital.

Please let me go with him.

Alright. Get in.

Bliss, you go inside.
I'll go round the front.

Where's that going?
─ Hospital.

Wait! Wait for a nervous wreck.

Bliss, you look after Mrs Milton.

So you've got him, Wembury.
─ Yes, poor devil.

Bring him in here, quick.

He's moving. Oxygen. Hurry.

Hackett.

Don't look now but
I think he's got away.

Do you love me, Cora Ann?

*** SteveD ***
*
#9-2017#