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It was in Cairo that I first met Arthur Milton,

only knew him a couple of days and we got married.

It was all a bit of a rush.

You see, the police were after Arthur,

so we spent our honeymoon on the run.

Paris, Cape Town,

Singapore, Hong Kong.

But it really wasn't much fun.

It seems the police wanted Arthur everywhere.

We hid quite successfully in Australia for a while,

almost got to know the neighbours.

Until one night, Arthur committed suicide.

At least that's what the police thought till they found out he was in London.

My dear husband had quite calmly walked out on me.

He thought he could do a certain job in London better on his own.

Of all the stupid things to do.

In London, Arthur was wanted more than anywhere.

The police picked up petty crooks coming out of prison

who might be able to help them find The Ringer.

Oh, that's what they call Arthur, "The Ringer".

I never quite knew why.

Anyway, the police thought this fellow Hackett here might know something.

They soon whistled him up to Scotland Yard.

- Mr. Hackett, sir. - All right, we won't keep you a moment.

No, the assistant commissioner isn't here yet. Right.

- There's this fellow Hackett who... - Listen.

Five, six years ago, I got him 18 months in London session.

A born liar.

What do you think Hackett knows about The Ringer?

Well, he says he'd recognise him.

I'd say anything to create a sensation.

What if Hackett doesn't know The Ringer? Who else is going to identify him?

Well, you for one, that's why you're on the case.

Me? Never set eyes on him.

Had his back turned to me the day I tried to arrest him.

No, The Ringer's clever, I hand it to him.

You don't seem very happy, Bliss.

Mr. Goodall's back in Washington.

Had a soft job there.

Checking scientists for the FBI, eh?

Now you're back to the dull routine. Too bad.

If you'd been to America, Wembury, they'd have kept you there.

They wanted me back at the Yard.

I like your manners, I hate your modesty. Come in, Sam.

Hello, Mr. Wembury.

You're looking bright and healthy. How's the family?

There isn't any family, Sam.

And please forget about it too, eh? Good morning, sir.

You remember Mr. Bliss.

Bliss? Bliss...

Here, you've changed a bit, haven't you?

Where'd you get all the moss from?

But I wouldn't have recognised you.

Straight up, I wouldn't have recognised him.

Oh, uh, this is the man, sir.

- Morning, Mr. Hackett. - Morning, sir.

I nice little pitch you've got around here,

all made out of thieving and murder.

We had a letter from you, Hackett, when you were in prison. Where is it?

Here it is, sir.

Ah, yes, thank you.

"Yes, sir, this comes hoping to find you well

and all kind friends at Scotland Yard."

Yes, well, I didn't know Bliss was back.

"There's a lot of talk about The Ringer here, him that was drowned in Australia.

Yes, sir, I can tell you a lot about him now that he's departed from this life.

RIP.

As I once see him, though only for a second and I knew where he lodged."

- Is that true? - Yes, sir. We lodged in the same house.

Then you know what he looks like.

Oh, well, sir, what he did look like.

I don't recognise him not having his wings.

- Wings? - Yes, uh...

Unfortunately, The Ringer's alive.

Yeah?

- The Ringer alive? - Very much alive.

Well, I'll say thanks very much.

- Good morning all. - Just a minute, Hackett.

What do you know about him?

Nothing, sir. Straight up, without any madam.

- Any what? - Madam, without turning the tail, sir.

In this letter, you expressed your willingness to act as an informer.

Uh, maybe so on a dead man but not on a live Ringer,

not much, not me.

If you can help us, we may be able to help you one day.

Not if I was dead, you couldn't.

You or anybody else, and that's what I'll be if I went nosing on The Ringer.

He's yellow like the rest of his kind.

Always the same story when their own skins are in danger.

Here, you've been closer to him than I have.

He nearly done you once, what's keeping you back?

Come on, Hackett. Tell us what you know. What are you afraid of?

Well, same as he is, sir.

Now, I-- I'm sorry,

I'd been brought up here in what is termed a misapprehension.

I'll say good morning, all.

Don't trouble. Won't be long before we see you again.

Yes, and it's the one thing that will keep me straight, Bliss,

the thought of seeing you again.

All right, Hackett, that's enough, thank you.

Who's this man The Ringer is supposed to be after?

Meister, a Maurice Meister.

Better let Meister know The Ringer's back.

- Right, sir. - What?

The Ringer back and Meister doesn't know it?

That ain't half a laugh, innit, eh?

Oy, you.

- What, you called me? Mr. Meister in? - Are you a friend of his?

Yes, we went to different schools together.

Well, he's busy.

Well, he won't be too busy to see me when he finds out what I'm gonna tell him.

My dear Mr. Bell,

how can I give you advice as a lawyer on a matter which is outside the law?

Please be logical.

Is there anything-- Hello, Hackett.

How do, guv, can I have a word with you?

Sit down, I shan't be a moment. Is there anything else

- you want to talk about? - No, that's about everything.

Shouldn't be any trouble with this job.

You'd appreciate how well organised we are...

Please. Please, don't tell me anything about it. It's no concern of mine.

Pretty concerned with the results, though, aren't you?

My dear fellow, I give you the benefit of my intelligence

- and that is all. - All right, all right.

Santa Claus, have it your own way.

- Didn't know you were out. - Yes, I'm out, boy.

When are you going in?

- People like Mr. Bell don't, do they? - Any jobs going?

Not your class, chum.

I see. Snob stuff, eh?

Not the right accent.

By the way, there is one thing.

There's a night watchman, place of accident, we're counting on you.

You'd find it difficult to remove the absurd prejudice of a jury

against a defendant who killed an elderly night watchman.

There's nothing amateur about the work of our organisation, Meister.

Who should know that better than you?

Bye, Mr. Bell.

When did they turn you loose, Hackett?

- Today. I came straight here. - How nice of you, why?

I've got a bit of information for you, worth a couple of farthings, at least.

Don't tell me you've knocked off the chief warden's wife.

No, I had a good butcher's,

it wasn't worth pinching.

But I tell you I've got something.

- Sir, I beg your pardon. - I've got a bit of information

- that'll paralyse you! - Yes, Lisa?

There are two gentlemen to see you.

Who are they?

They say they are from the police.

Well, show them in, my dear.

All right.

I tell you what, guv, I'll let you have that bit of info for a fiver.

I'm not interested in your nonsense, Hackett.

Well, a couple of quid, then. You'll be sorry.

Blimey, don't you bogies move fast when there ain't no hurry?

- Good morning. - Morning.

Oh, would you take Mr. Hackett next door, my dear,

whilst I speak to these gentlemen?

Bearers of bad news used to have their heads cut off, Hackett, you're lucky.

Lucky? I haven't had a chance to tell him anything yet.

Afraid I can't give you very much time, it's now ten past 11,

I have to defend at Greenwich Police Court.

Things might go badly with my poor client if I'm not there.

But the course of justice might go more smoothly.

That's a matter of opinion.

- Would you care for a drink, gentlemen? - Thank you, not now.

- Have we met before? - I'm sorry.

Chief Inspector Bliss, Mr. Meister.

Mr. Meister is a very successful lawyer with a large practise in Deptford.

Funny district to choose.

He's a kind of a squire, Mr. Meister of Flanders Lane, and behaves like one too.

- How so? - Looks after his people,

defends them if they're in trouble and if they go to prison,

Mr. Meister supports the relatives.

Do I have to be suspect because I help these unfortunate people?

Suspect, my dear Meister? Who would mention the word?

As far as the police are concerned,

Mr. Meister's actions are motivated entirely by kindness.

I've always had a very great regard for the intelligence of the police

- but... - Take a bow, Bliss.

Gentlemen, what can I do for you? Excuse me.

- Why have you called? - We were just coming to that.

There was a girl whom you took into your employment.

Her name was Gwenda Milken,

assisted The Ringer.

She was found drowned.

That is a tragedy I don't care to be reminded of.

Neither should I if I were in your shoes.

What does that mean?

I shouldn't care to have The Ringer as an enemy.

- The Ringer died in Australia. - What makes you think that?

It's common knowledge, my dear chap, it was reported in the press months ago.

Perhaps it hasn't yet reached the ears of the police.

He left his sister in your care.

Why did she end her life?

My dear fellow, why do women end their lives? I don't know.

There's one reason as old as the hills and you know it.

Oh, melodrama, Wembury.

You'd arranged for her to go into a nursing home.

It didn't come out at the inquest.

Nobody knew about it but Scotland Yard and Henry Arthur Milton.

Scotland Yard couldn't do anything about it.

And Mr. Milton is dead.

Afraid we must disillusion you about that.

Mr. Milton is here.

Hasn't it come over the grapevine that The Ringer's back?

It hasn't.

And not a bird moves in Deptford but I know it.

Someone is fooling you, Inspector.

The Ringer's here and he's alive. Get that into your head.

We've come here to warn you.

Warn me, but why?

Look, get out, will you? Do it later.

Warn me, why?

Don't strike attitude, you're not in the police court.

We think he may have an idea he has an account to settle.

- With me? - Who else?

His sister was my secretary and that was all.

Well, you better explain that pretty quickly to him when you meet him.

My dear fellow, why should I meet him?

I've never seen him in my life, I don't know the man.

If he's back here with a life sentence hanging over him, why don't you get him?

Oh, it's so easy to get The Ringer.

Well, get his wife, Cora Ann.

Wherever she is, he is. He's crazy about her.

I mean, he was.

Do you mean to say you're serious about all this?

- Yes. - She's the crazy one.

She followed him to Australia.

Well, whoever follows who,

the one is never very far from the other. Get her and you get him.

We're not worried about her.

You're our immediate worry.

Yes, and Meister, you'd better warn some of your clients we're around.

The last person they want to see is a police officer.

And, uh, don't admit anybody after dark,

never leave the house except with a police escort,

and have some shutters put on those windows.

Shutters, guv?

No good now, you know.

Well, what do you advise?

Nothing short of steel bars.

And another thing, see that the rivets are on the inside.

Stay there.

The day you take him, I'll give 1,000 pounds to the police orphanage.

We don't need money so badly as that.

Well, give it to the Prisoner's Aid Association, guv.

I'll have a look around here for a bit, Wembury.

- Right. - Cover the garden and grounds.

No objection, I take it, Mr. Meister?

Must flatter you to have the police looking after your interests?

I'm tickled pink, my dear fellow.

Now Hackett here is supposed to know The Ringer.

It might not be a bad idea if you kept him on the premises, he could tip you off.

What, me sit in the bullseye? And The Ringer a dead shot?

What do you mean, tip me off?

It surely is the responsibility of the police.

The Ringer is a murderer.

- We couldn't prove it. - But you know it.

Knowledge is not proof, no one should know that better than you, Meister.

The Ringer got rid of a couple of people the police were glad to be rid of.

Yes, you're dead right there, they was.

So the police shut their eyes.

You're an offensive character, Meister. The police never shut their eyes.

You take my advice, you keep this fellow Hackett around.

You want an honest job, Sam?

Oh, no, sir, no qualifications.

Come on, take it, it's easy money for a change.

Mr. Meister would pay you well, wouldn't you, Meister?

Well, this is all very silly game, I must say.

Maybe but I'd take my advice if I were you.

Still, if the police insist...

and if he makes himself useful about the house,

I'm prepared to pay him a few pounds and his keep.

What, me live here?

The house not comfortable enough for you, Mr. Hackett?

Oh, no, too unhealthy.

Come on, Sam, what do you say?

Now look here, guv'nor.

The Ringer might bump him off

before I get my pay packet, see?

Here, I'll tell you what I'll do, though.

You make it a daily rate and I'll chance it.

Now look here, Hackett, I'm a busy man.

Sam, the first thing you've got to do is to make this house burglar proof.

Yes, but you know that's impossible, Mr. Wembury.

Anyway, I'll do my best.

Good. Get a move on, get everything done by tonight if you can.

Good morning, Mr. Meister.

- Sam. - Bye, sir.

Now don't worry, guv.

I don't want to see The Ringer any more than you do.

The police,

they asked for me and my papers.

Uh, yes dear, but, um...

- Don't worry, I dealt with them. - But--

But you told them I wait for Johnny.

- That wouldn't have been wise. - Why not?

Why not? My dear Lisa,

because Johnny is serving a sentence.

Whatever he is in your eyes, in theirs he's a criminal.

Wouldn't exactly commend you to the police

if I told them you were waiting to marry Johnny.

Oh, well.

Johnny was foolish, that's all.

You don't get a four-year sentence just for foolishness.

- He wanted money quickly to marry me. - I know, I know.

And those crooks promised him money. Well,

if you associate yourselves with crooks, you have to be clever.

And Johnny wasn't clever, he gets himself caught,

leaves his girl at the mercy of the world.

What sort of a man is that to pin your faith to, hmm?

Faithfulness, my dear, can be carried too far.

Come, that's ridiculous.

What did you tell the police?

Do they--

do they want to send me out of England?

No, no, no, they won't.

Not as long as you are here under my wing, as it were.

Police have a high regard for me, you know.

Yes, but-- but do they know I'm not a criminal?

Well, did you explain to them how it happened?

That I came in with Johnny on a visitor's permit,

that we were going to get married.

Well, I've done nothing wrong to stay in this country to wait for him.

Nothing wrong?

Remaining in a country after the expiration of your visa...

...my dear child.

But I've seen to that.

I give you protection here, I give you sanctuary.

- What's that? - Sanctuary?

Oh, a roof over your head, food, clothes.

- And, I hope, a little friendship. - But of course.

And I'm very grateful to you for letting me work here.

You're very good at it too, my dear.

I wish you weren't as good at, uh...

...waiting for Johnny.

As if your only role in life was to wait for Johnny.

I'm afraid it is.

It's a role many women like, hmm?

Gives them immunity, untouchability.

- It's also full of tricks. - I have no tricks.

Oh, that would be very boring, Lisa, dear.

Are you sure you wouldn't rather I took a job somewhere else?

But you couldn't get a job anywhere else, Lisa, you have no papers.

But why argue?

You like it here, don't you? And you could hardly call me a slave driver.

- Oh, no, no. You're kind. - Then what are we arguing about?

Look, uh,

run along now, finish your work.

I'm busy this afternoon but I'll see you at dinner.

Oh, Lisa.

Smile.

I said smile, smile a little.

Oh, yes.

Mr. Meister.

I'm just going outside to have a look round, guv.

Here!

I've got a job of work for you.

- I want bars, bars everywhere. - Right?

And I don't mean the kind of bars where you get the old half pint, see?

I want flipping great bars on all them windows.

Here, who are you?

The Minister of Defence, strictly protem,

see?

Four men to guard a crook's house

and the Metropolitan police 2,000 under strength, sir.

Never inquire into the mysteries of Scotland Yard, Carter.

- Oh, morning, miss. - Morning.

My name's Cora Ann Milton.

I'm an American citizen. This is my passport.

Tend to that right away, will you, Carter?

- Oh, right, sir. - I've come to register

my change of address. I'm moving down to this district.

Ah, right, miss.

I wish I didn't know so much about criminology.

I find other books on this subject remarkably unenlightening.

Consequently, I never read them.

But then that makes me wonder whether anybody will ever read mine.

Wembury, will you have a wee nip?

- Carter. - Never become too erudite, Wembury.

Never become an expert.

Life becomes too dull.

You know, the older I get the more I become convinced that

cross examination remains the only art left

to the criminologist,

- will I ever convince you of that? - Sir?

- No. Carter. - Yes, sir?

Do you know anything about this report from B division?

- B division, sir? - Carter.

Keep that woman here, find out something wrong with her papers

and send her in in a couple of minutes.

Oh, right, sir.

- Who is she? - Cora Ann Milton.

Cora Ann.

Cora Ann.

Pretty name. Pretty woman, too.

- Wife of The Ringer. - The Ringer?

A very dangerous customer.

- Yeah, but why do you call him The Ringer? - Rings the changes

- in his personal appearance. - Really? But then don't they all?

Not like this one. He's unique.

In Deptford, they say he can change the colour of his eyes.

- So they turned him into a legend, eh? - Hmm.

What's he look like?

Descriptions?

Several descriptions, all poles apart. No photographs.

We've got this drawing here made by Stuart on a boat.

That's all.

And why this sudden interest in The Ringer?

Well, he's suppose to have died in Australia, but the Yard weren't convinced.

You see, people like The Ringer, they just don't die in Australia.

True.

The Yard had a report that he was here.

We weren't convinced of that either.

At least I wasn't, not till now.

And what complicated process of deduction leaves you

from the presence of Cora Ann Milton here

to the suspicion that her husband's alive?

Well, that's just what I hope to find out in a minute.

Now Wembury, why don't you let me try my hand on her?

Mm, heaven forbid.

The powers of cross examination scientifically applied

should never be underrated.

- Oh, excuse me, sir. - Yes, what is it?

There seems to be something wrong

- with this permit, sir. - All right. All right.

Ask Mrs. Milton to come in.

I was coming in, in any case.

Where my passport goes, I go.

It's one of the things I don't like out of my sight.

Quite right. Won't you sit down?

This is Dr. Lomond, he's quite harmless.

- Hmm, that's too bad. - How do you do?

This isn't your first visit to London, is it, Mrs. Milton?

No, it's all in the book there.

Ah, yes, I see. Now, did you arrive alone?

Except for a planeload of other people, yes.

I mean, essentially alone, you were not accompanied by your husband?

No, sir. Nor my mother or any of my aunts.

That was very careless of your husband.

Do you allow that kind of remark?

Dr. Lomond is our police surgeon, they're not strictly on the force,

but we allow them a little latitude, of course, but not too much.

Well, now isn't that nice? And I'm just dying to talk to somebody.

What's the best show in London, anyway?

The best show in London, Mrs. Milton, is Scotland Yard.

Melodrama without music,

and you, the leading lady.

What am I leading?

- Well... me, for the moment. - Really?

Why, you know, doctor, that I haven't seen my husband in years.

And I'm not likely to see him again.

I thought everybody read that in the newspapers.

Poor Arthur was drowned in Sydney Harbour.

- As if you didn't know, Inspector. - Should I know?

There's nothing wrong with my passport, is there?

You just wanted to talk to me.

Your husband left this country hurriedly two years ago or was it three?

Three.

When did you see him last?

Two, or was it three?

Now let's be accurate, my dear girl.

You saw him in Australia.

You arrived in Sydney about three months after he reached there.

While you were there, you were,

well, shall we say, in communication with him?

You seem to have it all there, so why bother to ask me?

I never saw him and that's the truth.

You never saw him? Hmm.

He was afraid that somebody might be trailing you,

afraid that you might lead the police to him?

Afraid. You don't know what you're talking about.

He wasn't afraid of anything or anybody.

And now you say he's dead, hmm?

Come in, Henry Arthur Milton,

who recently left Australia

with another woman.

Come in, please.

He's not there.

That's a dirty trick.

I'm sorry but I...

don't like the way he kids me along.

Oh, don't let him worry you. He has an unfortunate manner.

I don't know anything and you've nothing on me.

And I certainly don't have to answer any of your fool questions.

It is Mrs. Milton, isn't it?

What does that mean?

Oh, I just thought it might be one of those happy natural liaisons.

It was happy, it was natural and it was legal.

Well, well.

And you can get that bug out of your head about another woman.

There was no other woman ever in Arthur Milton's life.

I had walked down Collin Street

with the police tailing me because he'd rung me and asked me to.

All because he wanted just to look at me.

He risked everything to see me.

I wouldn't recognise him, but he'd be there.

Is that the kind of man who goes off with some other woman?

No, no.

No, but he sounds to me very much like a man who is alive and here in England.

If he is, why don't you catch him?

May I have my passport, please?

I'm sorry you've been detained. Your papers are quite in order.

You met him and you didn't recognise him.

Love is blind.

And you think you would know him if you saw him, Dr. Lomond?

You want us to believe he was so well disguised

that he could walk down Collin Street in broad daylight without being recognised?

I'm sorry, Cora Ann, but it won't do.

On Collin Street. He'd walk on Regent Street.

If he felt that way, he'd come right to Scotland Yard.

You laugh, go on, laugh. He'd do it. He--

He'd do what, Mrs. Milton?

I'm sorry.

What is it?

I'm sorry, but I'm rather nervous today. Anything makes me jump.

Well, I guess that lets me out.

You just try to get me back again.

What's the matter, Mrs. Milton?

What are you frightened of here in the police station?

Well, I tell you, it was--

it was that drawing. I just caught a glimpse of it and it gave me a shock.

You see, I rather liked Arthur.

And say, don't be so darned sure

there's nothing to be afraid of in a police station.

I see you, men.

See that you get them rivets on the inside.

And you, keep your dirty hands off the walls.

Your holder brandy, sir.

Put it there.

Here?

There.

How'd you like my posh accent? All got up to match the tray.

- Have you called Miss Lisa? - It's a nice bit of stuff, too.

Do you mean Miss Lisa or the brandy?

No, the tray.

I'm under police protection, Hackett, that includes my property.

Yeah. You know, taking it all-in-all, guv,

it is a bit of a flipping laugh, innit, eh?

I feel like something out of Madame Tussauds.

I'm not cut out to be a gent's gentleman.

Too flipping familiar, that's what you are.

Draw the curtains, will you?

Here. You got them things far too far apart.

I know plenty of gentlemen with rubber guts who could squeeze through that gap.

Who's giving orders?

Me, that's who. That's what I'm here for.

Expert, eh?

Dead right, mate. On both sides of the fence.

You watch me, keep your eyes and ears open and you'll be all right.

Hackett, please.

Sorry, guv.

It's all this blooming clobber.

Those blokes won't take notes from me in this fancy dress.

Tell them to get on with it and attend to things indoors.

- And fetch Miss Lisa's coffee. - Okay, it's on the hob.

- I like it very black. - Oh, it's as black as silt, miss.

Smells like it too.

I'm afraid I'm not very good at this coffee making lot, though.

- Now if it was char... - That's enough, Hackett.

Oh, that moron gets on my nerves.

He makes me laugh.

He's no good in the house and he talks too much.

I can hardly understand what he says.

A dialect?

- Cockney, dear. - Cockney?

Yes, a gay little language all on its own.

Only slightly connected with the King's English.

Have you typed those things I gave you?

- Oh, yes. - Good, clever girl.

I don't know what I should do without you.

There are plenty of people who can type.

But they don't look like you.

Or smile like you.

Or walk like you.

Why does it embarrass you, hmm?

Cuts across your favourite act, doesn't it?

What act?

Waiting for Johnny.

I-It's not an act.

No, of course not, my dear. I was joking, I'm sorry.

No girl could've kept it up for so long if it were.

No sensitive, intelligent girl like you, I mean.

This house is going to look like a prison.

I'm sorry about all this, Lisa.

- Oh, thank you. - Black enough, miss?

Oh, yes.

Hackett, I'm not going to stand much more of this. Haven't they finished yet?

- They're just putting the alarms in. - Alarms?

Yes, burglar alarms.

I hope you're never in none of them, miss, when you're on the wrong side of the door.

Blimey, the scares I've had.

After that, I set the last trumpet aside and not the penny whistle.

I don't hire the raconteur, Hackett.

Hey?

Go get me two more brandies, will you? If you haven't drunk it all.

What, me drink brandy?

With all that bubbly lying about? Look at him.

You must be the best audience

- he's ever had. He knows it too. - I think he's very funny.

Oh, well, he's all yours, dear.

Drink your coffee before it gets cold.

Now what goes on? Are you going to make much more noise?

I got to connect up the alarm bell with that switch.

Oh, am I in your way?

No, miss, you're all right, stay where you are.

Do you understand those things?

- Should do. - Should do?

Why isn't the electrician here himself?

I mean, the place is lousy with silver trays.

Hackett, we don't want a running commentary on your duties.

Here you are sir, stiffens.

- Lisa. - No, thank you, not for me.

- Come on, it's good for the nerves. - No, thank you.

Take it.

Let's have some light, shall we?

What have you done, you fools!

Give me Scotland Yard.

Hello, hello?

Stop those bells, will you?

Hello? Hello, hello? Shh.

Hello? Uh, uh, 99. Shh.

Well, there you are, Mr. Meister.

You'll have a sore hand for a day or maybe two,

but it could've been worse.

And now I think we could all do with a drink.

Hackett, a drink.

And Hackett.

In future, for your alarm bell's fuse, send for the electricians, not the police.

Well, how was I to know it wasn't The Ringer!

By the simple process of looking, halfwit!

You know, Mr. Wembury, one of these days, I'm gonna do him,

- honest, I will, I will do him. - Sam, behave yourself.

Here, guv. That's a nice bit of stuff, innit, eh?

It would sell well, wouldn't it?

- I wonder what I'd get for it. - About three years.

Is he all right, doctor?

Why, sure, he's all right.

What are you, the factotum?

No, sir, English.

What's your name?

Samuel Cuthbert Hackett.

That's a terrible name.

Would you like to earn an honest five pounds?

I pay on results, I'm from Aberdeen.

Can you tell me something about The Ringer?

Something that I don't know already, hmm?

Well, do you mind if I give you a bit of advice for nothing?

Don't go nosing in on The Ringer.

That is if you value your skin.

They tell me that you're a friend of his.

Well, I'm not saying yes and I'm not saying no.

But I'll tell you this much,

he wouldn't half get a laugh if he could see all this I had you do.

Them bars!

Blimey, they wouldn't keep me out, let alone The Ringer.

Perhaps you are The Ringer.

Please don't make jokes like that, sir, please.

Turn my stomach right over.

Wembury, they're awful dangerous contraptions, these burglar alarms.

By the way,

I was fascinated by your friend, Cora Ann.

Yes, I noticed.

- I'd put that thing down if I were you. - Aye.

- Would you say I had a good approach? - To women?

On the elephantine side, I'd say.

Now, don't depress me, Wembury, I thought I'd made an impression.

Hardly the right one, you were trying too hard.

Are you likely to see her again?

- Not while you're around. - Competition, eh?

Not where The Ringer's wife is concerned, old boy, that would be curtains.

Doesn't the risk appeal to you? The element of challenge, eh? Oh.

What's happening to men nowadays?

Look, Dr. Casanova, lay off The Ringer's wife.

She's a very beautiful girl.

Yes, and you might look beautiful too lying on a marble slab, though I doubt it.

Would you send me lilies?

- Good evening. - Yes?

- He wants to see Mr. Meister. - Is he in?

- Mr. Meister's busy. - I won't keep him long.

I tell you, he's busy, he won't see anyone.

I've got to see him.

Well, give me a message.

Him or you?

All right, Constable, I'll deal with this.

- Well? - Well, my boy's in trouble, see.

He'd been on a job and comes up before the beat tomorrow and...

I promised I'd get Meister there to defend him.

You wait here.

Samuel.

Samuel Cuthbert Hackett.

That's a terrible name. Have you seen this contraption, hmm?

Ah, it's natty, innit?

It's very empty.

- Oh, I got ya. Refill? - Aye.

Come in the dispensary.

Oh, is that where the fuse boxes are?

They're awful elaborate. I used to potter with electricity when I was

a wee lad.

Well?

He says phone him tomorrow.

Look, I don't want any nonsense.

- And nor do we! - He can't get away with this.

- He's got to see me, it's his duty. - Now, now, what's the trouble?

Who are you? No one comes in here without me knowing it.

He wants to see Meister, but Meister won't see him.

Well, that's it, innit, mate?

You phone him tomorrow, he'll talk to you then.

You've got too many police around here.

Well, you know what I'd do?

You might be wasting your time, pal.

Someone has exactly the same idea.

Don't you worry. I'll be back.

Excuse me, if you please.

- Just a moment, madam. - Now look here.

My old man's in there, they just told me down at the station,

so don't you tongue and gammon me.

Got any hidden weapons on you, eh?

If I had them, they're me own private property.

- What's your business, anyway? - I've told you.

I want to see Mr. Hackett and it's very urgent.

- Hackett? What's he up to in there? - How should I know?

That's what I'm here to find out--

Sam Hackett.

- So here you are! - Now, Bella!

I found you at last, have I, you snake...

enjoying yourself while me and the kids can starve.

Put a sock in it. You'll get me fired!

You call yourself a man hiding behind that dickie?

Why don't you come home like you always does?

- Don't shout, I'm not deaf! - We can wait, we can,

while you strut around acting like the dog's dinner.

You're acting above yourself, that's what you are, Sam Hackett.

Well, what you think I'm doing it for?

You and the kids.

- You haven't gone straight, have you? - Don't talk daft.

I'm making contacts, see?

It might raise us up into the mahogany class.

But what about raising a bit of housekeeping money

'cause now that you're out, I'm giving up my job at Woolworths.

All right, all right.

As soon as I touch.

Oh, I know you, Sam Hackett. As soon as you touch,

it's a big noise in the pub until it's all blown.

Hackett, can't you carry on your domestic arguments somewhere else?

The kitchen, perhaps.

And who asked you to push your big ugly mug in?

That's right, go on, get me another six months.

It's only the chief dick from Flanders Lane.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

But it's his fault, you know, he's a lazy good-for-nothing.

Well, why put up with him? Why don't you leave him?

Leave him?

Well, how can I leave him? I'm not married to him.

- Now go on, hop it. - Oh, come home, Sam!

Yes, all right, as soon as the governor's bumped off.

- Well, how long's that gonna be? - Any moment now.

Yes, but Sam...

Don't worry, Bella.

Don't worry, Bella, I'll be home soon.

- Goodbye, Sam. - Look after yourself, darling.

- Don't forget what I told you now. - Yes, all right.

- Look after yourself. - All right, Hackett?

- Yes, I will, bye. - You know this man?

- Yes. - Hello, chum.

I didn't expect

to see you here, Johnny.

What's up? What's all the fuss about?

- What are you all dressed up for? - I got the greatest bit of news for you.

- You'll die when I tell you. - You mean about The Ringer being back?

Where's Lisa?

Here, how did you know? When did you get out?

Oh, blimey, you look welled up, one must be a blooming holiday.

Johnny, Johnny!

- Lisa! - Johnny!

Johnny, but what year is it?

I-I must be all mixed up. Listen,

- you're out too soon. - I'm out, I'm free!

Darling.

Darling, you haven't escaped?

I helped a warder when some damn fool attacked him,

so they remitted my sentence.

Oh, Johnny, open a screw.

Darling.

Promise me one thing.

Don't make any more trouble.

No more trouble ever, no more police.

You swear it?

I swear it.

Why didn't you write?

Well, I didn't know myself till this morning.

Well, well, look who's here.

- Hello, Meister. - Hello, Johnny.

Let's have a look at you.

- How did you manage it? - He saved a warder's life.

One of your ex-clients attacked him, Meister.

We must drink to our little hero, shall we, Lisa?

The boy who makes good. What will you have, Johnny?

- Not for me, Meister. - Lisa?

No, thank you.

Lisa and I are going to be married.

I know, I know. Congratulations.

I'm taking her to my people in Liverpool tonight.

Tonight?

I'm sorry, Johnny, but... you forget she's my secretary.

I can't let the secretary go at a moment's notice.

She knows more about my affairs than I do myself.

I'd be completely lost without her.

But of course in a few days I'd be glad to make arrangements.

Well, that's too bad, but we're, uh,

taking the first train. I want her out of here.

But why?

She's been happy here. Haven't you, Lisa?

Oh, yes. Yes, I like my work.

He asked you, Lisa, whether you'd been happy.

Yes, darling, but...

I-- I think it's reasonable that I should wait for a few days.

Until I clear out my work.

Few days, you talk as if a few days were nothing.

- I've been waiting two years! - Yes, but--

Now don't be hysterical, Johnny.

I'm trying to help you.

Keep your advice for people who pay for it!

My dear boy, you are hysterical.

You have to try and adapt yourself

- to civilised life again. - You should talk about civilised life!

How about Gwenda Milton? I wonder why she committed suicide?

Shut your filthy mouth!

And who came out of the whole thing as innocent as a lamb?

You can fool the law, Meister, because you know every move of the game,

but there's someone around you can't fool,

who's just waiting for an opportunity to take the law into his own hands

- and good luck to him. - Johnny.

What are you so frightened about? Does nobody speak the truth around here?

He comes out of prison and he talks about truth.

It's all right, Johnny, I...

I quite understand. Hello, doctor.

Are you sure I'm not butting in?

- No, no, no, not at all. - I was just away...

Excuse me, I'll get my bag.

Oh, uh, this is a friend of mine, Mr. Lemley.

I'd just been having a wee bit chat with our friend there in the pantry.

Lemley? Hmm.

You're just back from the country, aren't you?

I'm just out of prison,

- if that's what you mean. - Uh-huh.

- Guv. - Yes, what is it?

- There's a party outside wants to see you. - Who is it?

Well, they asked me not to divulge the name.

This party said, "Just say I'm from The Ringer."

A party from The Ringer?

Show him in.

- Doctor, are you mad? - I know what I'm doing.

Show him in.

Hello, Meister.

Remember me?

I'm very sorry, but just for the moment I'm rather at a loss.

Think hard. I'll give you a clue, you knew my husband.

That's a terrible opening to a conversation, "you knew my husband."

Do you mind keeping out of this?

My name's Cora Ann Milton.

Ah, yes, of course. My dear Mrs. Milton, how do you do?

- Prettier than ever. - Oh, shut up.

And how is your husband?

Oh, he's fine, just fine. You'd be pleased to hear that.

- Oh yes, indeed. - I, um...

I brought you a message from him.

- Do you mind if we talk alone somewhere? - If you wish.

Uh, this way.

- You'd excuse us, won't you, doctor? - Certainly.

What's Mrs. Milton doing here?

Blimey, where have you two been, making the beds?

Isn't that like a couple of coppers, eh? Never on the spot when you want it.

Now listen, there isn't much time.

Why don't you go away, out of the country?

Arthur Milton is here in London for one purpose only.

To get you, Meister. It's a mania with him.

Whatever happened between you and his sister, he pinned her death on you.

It's been burning up his mind for two years.

He's got one idea left and that's to get you.

So he's in London, hmm?

You've been listening to the police, Mrs. Milton.

I told the police.

Trying to lead me to The Ringer, hmm?

Very ingenious, I must say.

I leave London, where he would never dare show himself,

and I go, say, to the Argentine,

and he'd be waiting for me there, tipped off by you.

What do you take me for, Mrs. Milton?

You can cut that out.

I wouldn't lift a finger to save you from hell.

Get that into your head, Meister.

And run fast while you still have some breath in you to do it with.

- And run to The Ringer? - From The Ringer, you fool.

It's here in this house you'll meet him and not anywhere else.

You're looking very beautiful today, Cora Ann.

That's more than I can say of you, doctor.

The merry widow, eh?

And cut out the widow stuff, it's too near home.

- The merry grass widow, then. - Not so merry as all that.

Still hankering after that husband of yours?

Isn't it time you stopped worrying?

You're dead right it is, doctor.

You can't still be in love with him.

Love?

I don't know. What's love anyhow?

- I've forgotten. - Love, well...

They say in the books it's where the heart is.

Well, mine's in my mouth most of the time.

That's anatomically impossible, my dear.

It was love that took you all the way to Australia

after him, wasn't it?

Was it? A honeymoon alone in a single berth cabin?

Not my idea of love.

Why don't you forget him, Cora Ann?

- Do you think he wants me to forget him? - I don't know. He-- he might.

Is any man worth what you're suffering?

Sooner or later he'll be caught.

- If he's alive. - If he's alive, aye.

The long arm of the law will stretch out and seize him and the long leg of the law

will boot him into prison.

Oh, will you please stop talking about my husband?

All right, I mean, anything you wish. I mean,

I'm only trying to help you, lassie.

Well, do mind helping me at a distance.

But you attract me, Cora Ann.

What am I supposed to do about that? Cheer?

Dear, if only I was five years younger.

- Twenty-five, you mean. - Can I offer you a wee bit of advice?

- Medical advice? - No, no, no, no. Just friendly.

It'll be a good idea if you were to go right away

and forget all about The Ringer.

Find another interest.

Cut him right out of your mind.

I'm thinking of all the time you're wasting waiting for something to happen

with that heart of yours in your mouth.

You've got some reason behind all this.

Aye, I've got plenty of reasons.

It's your one chance, Cora Ann.

- Who says so, Dr. Lomond? - Aye.

When Arthur Milton says, "I'm tired of you.

I'm sick of you, you're out." Then I'll go.

My way, not your way. Good night.

- Good night. - Oh, excuse me, madam.

But would you mind doing me a favour?

The next time you see The Ringer, would you put in a good word for me?

- Samuel Hackett's the name. - Word in for what?

Well, I'm ambitious, you see.

I want to better myself. I want to get out of the rut.

Well, there's no place like the rut, Sam, at least you know where you are.

Ah, that's just it, madam, you see, a rut's a rut.

And I want to get out of it. A man with my experience ought to get out of the rut.

- Experience, did you say? - Yes, here.

- Have you seen my press cuttings? - No, I...

- Do you mind? There you are, look. - Well...

That's me, with the bracelets on.

I think I'd better start a book on Cora Ann

and forget all about criminology.

Uh, where's my pencil?

There's one on the desk.

Thank you, Mr. Meister.

Tell me something, uh, what's she doing here?

You should know that. It was you she came to see, not me.

What reason have the police to think that The Ringer is here?

I know they have a suspicion that he's here, but...

have they any real reason to think so?

Well, couldn't you get that out of Cora Ann?

She's here,

he's not very far away.

Oh, is that what they've been telling you?

They didn't tell me she was here.

Now what kind of recommendations are those?

- In each one of them you've been pinched. - Yes, I know, but why? Why?

I tell you why. Because I leave my trademark, see?

- Fingerprints? - No, that's the trouble.

No fingerprints, no busted locks, no clues.

So that when they see the perfect job,

they know it's me, Sam Hackett.

The trouble with me, miss, is that I'm the victim of my own perfection.

Excuse me.

All right, Samuel, I'll put in a word for you.

- Good night, Samuel. - Tell me something, Wembury.

What?

How the hell did you get landed with this Scotch comedian of yours?

Who, Lomond?

Oh, he's a nice old boy, really. A bit irritating at times, but...

After all, he's got precious little to do at Flanders Lane.

- I don't like amateurs. - He doesn't do anybody any harm.

When exactly did he start this job here?

Oh, about six months ago to get material for research for that book of his.

He spent most of his life abroad, somebody must've recommended him.

It's a nice, quiet job for an old boy in semi-retirement.

You coming, doctor?

- Aye, in a minute. - Right.

It's warmer in here than out there in the garden.

Don't you think so, Mr. Bliss?

I saw you out there,

setting a trap for The Ringer, weren't you?

Certainly a more practical way of catching criminals than writing all those books

and that anthropological muck that you waste your time on.

Well, that's a matter of opinion.

By the way, Bliss, have you ever noticed your ears?

A typical criminal's ear

and the prognathic process of the jaw suggest a rabid homicide.

Tell me, did you ever commit a murder?

Not yet. But I may any moment.

How you must hate your ears.

They're the most pointed I ever saw. I'll be interested to see what happens to you.

The last time I saw ears like that was in India.

They belonged to a woman who murdered her husband.

Mind, I'm not blaming her poor soul, he was in the native cavalry.

He used to go to bed in his spurs.

You keep your flippancy for another time, Lomond.

We've got a lot on our hands. The Ringer was a very clever criminal.

Ah, there's no such thing as a clever criminal.

That doctrine was inculcated into me when I was a bairn.

I resent that remark.

Take care of that hand of yours, Mr. Meister.

- Good night. - Good night.

Here you are, doc.

Is it full, Samuel?

Is it full? Blimey, it's the first time I've ever measured it by the yard.

Uh, I'll see you later.

You-- you--

You'll have to put up with a lot of things, you know. People will...

whisper behind your back.

"Her husband was in prison."

Well, how will you feel about it, then? Will you wish you'd never met me?

But darling,

if you had never met me, you wouldn't have gone to prison.

You wouldn't have needed that money if it hadn't been for me.

All the things I'd planned to say, I don't know, I--

- I just couldn't. - Tell me them now.

First of all, I wanted to ask you to forgive me

for all the things I'd promised.

Never let it be said that I'm not sympathetic with young love.

No, no, no, no. Don't get up.

I am sorry about my little outburst a moment ago, Johnny.

But you see, where I expected thanks,

it was a little disconcerting to receive abuse.

Well, I've been thinking too much, shut away there.

I understand. It all was a mistake.

Are you still thinking of taking Lisa away tonight?

- Yes. - That's a pity.

I shall miss you, Lisa dear. When is your train?

Eleven o'clock.

Uh, look. Give me two hours of her time to go over what is most urgent, hmm?

- All right? - Well, what about your packing?

That's easy, I haven't got much to pack.

Go and pack now, Lisa. Then you've got everything prepared

and we can run through the work quickly.

Oh, blast.

- What's the matter? - There's a file in my office,

it's important she checks through with me.

I'd get it myself, but I can't leave the house.

I wonder if Lisa... Lisa.

No, don't disturb her. Let her finish her packing. I'll get your file.

Oh, that's very kind of you, Johnny. I'll get you the keys.

It's the top floor of 258 Piccadilly.

If you take a taxi, you'll be there in 20 minutes.

- Here is some money. - Oh, don't worry.

It's a thick green file, you'll find it in the bottom drawer of my desk.

- Right. - 258 Piccadilly.

Who's there?

What's the matter?

What are you doing here, Bliss?

Looking after you like a father, Mr. Meister.

I thought your activities were confined to the outside of my house.

I shan't be troubling you again this evening.

All my men are on duty.

However, if you can't sleep, do give me a ring.

I'll come and read you some bedtime stories.

Good night.

I see.

Two, five, eight...

Piccadilly.

Yes.

- In about 20 minutes. - I see.

- May I have your name, please, sir? - No. No name.

Hello?

Hello, Meister?

Hello?

Meister? Is anybody there?

Hello?

Meister.

Don't move.

What are you doing here, anyway?

Stay where you are and don't you dare!

Right, Peters.

Acting on information, sir, I was at 258 Piccadilly.

I found the caretaker hurt and the office at the top entered into.

Later, we arrested this man who resisted arrest.

What's the charge?

He's charged with being on enclosed premises for an unlawful purpose.

What's your name?

- John Lemley, sir. - All right, search him.

I've seen you before tonight somewhere, haven't I?

Well? Anything to say?

Meister tipped you off, didn't he?

What's Meister got to do with this?

Look, he sent me to his office to get a file.

He gave me those keys, it was a trap.

If it's a trap, as you say,

why not stay and explain it to the police?

'Cause can't you see? I realised I was walking into a trap.

If you're innocent and victim of a trick,

now why should the police hold you?

'Cause I've got a record.

Mm-mm. I see.

I, um...

I came out of prison this morning.

Meister a friend of yours?

So friendly that I landed with a four-year sentence

and look like landing with another one, that's how friendly we are.

That's a pretty fantastic story, Lemly.

Whatever it is to you, it's a real life nightmare to me.

All right, you'll be detained.

Take him away.

All right, put him in number nine.

Look. Can I put a call through to Lisa? I haven't done anything,

I'm not a criminal. All I want is a chance to put things right with her.

You're under arrest, let's not have any nonsense.

Look, if anything happens to Lisa, I'll kill him.

I'm warning you, I'll kill him!

Who's he gonna kill?

- Meister. - Seems quite an epidemic.

I want a gun.

I beg your pardon, sir.

- I want a revolver. - That's right, Sergeant.

Inspector Bliss of Scotland Yard requires a revolver.

What you want it for, Bliss?

- Going ratting? - Yes.

- But you don't have to worry, Wembury. - Thanks.

What do you want a gun for?

- What's that got to do with you? - Oh, quite a bit.

This is my division, you know.

Any reason why I shouldn't have it?

No.

I should sign for it, though.

What's the matter, Bliss?

You seem to be forgetting the routine.

I've been a long time away from this regulation-ridden country.

Good evening, Mr. Bliss.

Evening, doctor. You seem to live here.

- Found The Ringer yet? - Not yet.

You want to write another book?

Perhaps you will.

You know, sometimes I think it's folly to be wise.

I wish he'd ask me why.

Why, sir?

When ignorance is bliss.

Curious the inspector doesn't know station routine, innit, sir?

Everything is curious about Mr. Bliss, Sergeant.

Bliss, I wonder where he got that name from.

Perhaps it was his mother's.

What's Meister's phone number?

Uh, 2140, I think, sir.

- Yeah, that's right, sir. - Yes, I'm worried about that boy's story.

It's Mr. Wembury.

Tell him I'm busy.

You can also tell him there is no need for him to worry about me any longer.

I'm leaving the country tonight.

He's leaving. He's pushing off. Yeah.

For why?

Well, I'll tell you for why, Mr. Wembury.

Cora Ann's seen him.

Yeah. And for all I know, I might've seen him too.

Tell him I'll be over right away, I've got to see him before he goes.

Draw me a gun, Carter, will you?

Oh, right, sir.

What's the matter?

Meister's moving out.

I've got to find out more about that boy Lemley before he goes.

That girlfriend of yours has been up to her tricks again.

You better come along.

You're the only friend she's got around here.

She may need your help if I lay my hands on her.

You're not going to shoot her?

Oh, come on!

Good evening. Mr. Meister?

He's packing, he's going away.

- Are you going away too, eh? - Yes.

I'm waiting for my fiancé.

He's coming to fetch me any moment now.

- Who, Lemley? - Yes.

Too bad.

- What's wrong? - I'm afraid you'll have to put that off

for a bit. He's under arrest.

What has he done?

He broke into what is known as enclosed premises, he's also charged with assault.

But...

But... is he in a prison?

For the time being, he's just being detained.

How serious is it?

Very serious unless his story can be corroborated.

Oh, Wembury, doctor, how nice of you to come and see me off.

Why, Lisa dear, what's the matter?

I'd like a word with you.

What has happened?

Where is Johnny?

- Where do you think he is? - He's been arrested.

- Is that so? - That is so.

Acting on information received, he was arrested this evening.

I'm terribly sorry about this, Lisa dear.

He was arrested in your office, oddly enough.

In my office? What on earth was he doing in my office?

We haven't quite cleared that up yet.

Lisa, what stupidity have you been up to?

Now of all times when...

Don't cry. Look...

I'll do everything humanly possible for him, I promise you.

Oh, what can you do? What can anybody do?

Well, if there is a way out, you can rest assured that I'll find it.

Let me talk to Wembury. Um...

Look, you go up for a while, hmm? Come.

I've never let you down and I never shall.

If by any chance this matter can't be straightened out,

you'll come with me.

You can't stay here alone and you know why.

Why not let her make up her own mind?

But can't I go and see him?

That's not possible, now please go upstairs and wait.

I can settle this matter much better on my own, and time is short.

That is, if you want me to help.

Hackett?

- You've seen Hackett? - No.

Are you here again, Cora Ann?

I might say the same to you.

I just came to bid a fond farewell to Mr. Meister, but...

What's the matter? There's a queer vacant look in your eyes.

The vacancy isn't in my eyes.

I haven't eaten a thing since lunch.

If you like, you can take me out to supper.

Oh, I might miss some fun,

if The Ringer knows that Meister's leaving.

You've got some strange ideas of fun.

Now why don't you take me out to supper?

- Are there any restaurants around here? - Aye, but who'll pay?

I'll pay for it. You can come along as my Scotch gigolo.

Oh, so you think I'm your type now?

You'll do. I'm not feeling at all particular at the moment.

You're really tempting, Cora Ann. It's such an economical proposition

that you nearly make me forget

- why I'm here. - Why are you here?

In my professional capacity in case of accidents.

- Come on, I'm hungry. - Now, Cora Ann.

- Don't lure a man away from his duty. - What duty?

The Ringer might feel that he had something to say

to Mr. Meister before he left.

What, with all this police around?

He wouldn't be such a madman, not even The Ringer.

I wonder how well you know him, Cora Ann.

There's a look in your eyes I don't like, doctor.

I'm not The Ringer's accomplice.

- You want to see him hang! - Now don't be hysterical.

Your husband wouldn't like that.

He might be somewhere around and it would worry him.

I'll give you five minutes, no more.

Doctor.

If you must make love to The Ringer's wife,

you might choose another moment and another place.

It would be more convenient if you went home.

Why?

Because I don't want two tragedies on my hands.

- Mr. Meister. - I'm in a hurry, doctor.

I think I know the reason for your bound hand.

- Is that all? - Aye.

There's an old transformer here. It must've worked the lift at some time.

If the wires had been connected to that...

...it might've prove fatal.

Now, are you listening to me?

How about that anonymous phone call you made at the station tonight?

Oh, Wembury, I'm much too vain a man to impart information anonymously,

you should know me better.

You fixed Lemley, didn't you? For some purpose of your own.

Don't let's argue, my dear fellow, let's part friends, shall we?

At least I'm saving you the trouble and expense of guarding me any longer.

- Good evening. - Mr. Meister?

- What do you want? - I've got your tickets.

- I'll give them to him. - I'm sorry.

I've got to get a signature for them.

All right, come this way.

- Your tickets. - Oh, put them down, will you?

Two.

Will you sign this, please, sir?

Why two?

Why two? Because Lisa is coming to America with me.

Oh, so that's it, is it?

I haven't time to sift your obscure ideas, Wembury.

The fact is that Lisa will decide to be realistic about this boy.

There must be an end even to her patience. Thank you.

Thank you, sir.

So Lisa will decide, eh?

There are moments, Meister, when I wish the police had wider powers.

To carry arms, perhaps, you mean?

Nothing so dramatic. One fist will be enough.

Even the greater pleasure.

Schoolboy stuff, Wembury.

You don't know the world. Go on and fetch me Lisa, will you?

I'm taking this girl away from a petty small time crook...

And lift her into the big time stuff. Strange snobberies you people have.

- I'll give her a new life in America. - Not if she goes with you.

She is going with me.

Do you know something, Meister? I could cheerfully do The Ringer out of a job.

It would make rather an ass of the law, wouldn't it?

Hackett. Hackett, Hackett!

Hey, you.

It'll only get me into trouble.

Good evening, Sergeant.

Look what they're doing to me. Why don't you stop them hauling me down?

- What's the trouble? - I saw this man behind Deptford Broadway

and asked him what he had in his bag.

That's exceeding your duty, Constable. Go on, Sergeant, tick him off.

- He refused to open the bag. - Now that's a lie.

Don't perjure yourself in front of witnesses.

All I said was, if you want the bag, take it.

Shut up, Hackett.

I then took him into custody.

Yes, that's the first true words you've spoken.

Look here. He come up to me and he give me a lot of madam, see?

So I said to him,

I don't want to be seen talking to a bogey at this hour of night.

Then he got the dead needle and pinched me.

Now I ask you, I wouldn't take the liberty in your manner, now would I?

What's in the bag?

That's funny you should mention that.

I was just gonna tell you about it.

Well, the truth of the matter is, see, I was walking down a dark street.

It was very dark, I could hardly see,

when all of a sudden, I trod on something soft, see?

Well, I bent down to have a look.

Well, there was the bag, so I said, "Now what are you doing there?"

And what did the bag say?

If I'm telling a lie, may I be struck down this very minute.

Go on, nobody's heard you.

Well, then I got my second breath, see?

Thought I'd bring it up to the police station when I come to this bogey.

All right, let's have a look at it.

What's that?

A silver teapot.

Well, bless my soul.

If it ain't old Meister's teapot.

Well, what a coincidence, eh?

I was only rubbing it up this morning.

Oh, well, it doesn't matter, after all, he doesn't drink tea.

- Ah. And Meister's cash box. - Yeah.

- And a wad of money. - Yeah.

Oh, bad luck, Hackett.

- Yeah. - Rank bad luck.

Yeah.

Here, that's good luck, that's what I call it.

I ought to get a reward for this.

Here, you count that lot, will you?

I know what them coppers are, be turning up here next week in a brand new suit.

All right, Hackett.

You're charged with being in possession of property

reasonably suspected of being stolen

or unlawfully obtained in contravention of Section 66 of the Metropolitan Police Act...

1839. Old, innit?

All right, it's a fair cop.

Name?

Samuel Cuthbert Hackett.

Samuel...

Cuthbert...

Hackett.

Address?

Buckingham Palace.

Bucking...

No fixed abode.

What was your last job?

- Chambermaid. - Get out of my way,

now, let me pass. I know he's here. I want to see my husband.

- I know my rights. - Truce. Here comes my biggest fan.

Sam Hackett, it's true.

I could hardly believe my ears when they told me.

Please, Mrs. Hackett.

It's no good, Sergeant. She never stops once she starts.

Call yourself an expert being found with the goods on you.

Why didn't you bury the stuff in the back garden and come back later for it?

You're slipping, that's what you are, Sam Hackett.

But I told you I was out of training.

And for a mouldy bit of silver like this.

Here.

Haven't I seen this before?

Didn't you knock this off last time you was out

and then flogged it to Mr. Meister?

Well, I like that, flog it to Mr. Meister and then pinch it back off him again.

That's plain dishonest, you know, Sam Hackett.

Sorry, Mrs. Hackett. We got to take him down now.

Number seven.

Quite a full house tonight.

Come on, ducks, perhaps I'll be home for Christmas.

But it's gonna be a hard grind for me and the kids

until you can get back on the job again, Sam.

I mean, it's not as if we were married, I get no family allowance or anything.

It's gone up three bob now, you know.

Well, look, ducks, I'll tell you what.

As soon as I get out of here and I've done my first job,

we'll make it legal, see.

I'll marry you!

Oh, Sam!

Sarg, there's no one in number nine.

- The door's open. - Number nine?

Lemley!

Are you sure he got away?

Yes, sir. The door in the station yard is open, sir.

Well, get the duty car to go round and warn all patrols.

You can describe the man. When did this happen?

When they took them their meal, sir.

Get onto the night officer of the yard and circulate the description.

Right, sir.

Get onto the yard and circulate Lemley's description right away.

Right, Sergeant.

He threatens to murder Meister, then he escapes.

- What am I supposed to think? - But Johnny doesn't think like you.

He's been in prison for a long time. He thinks everybody's against him.

But there's a reasonable chance I might have been able to help him.

But... but not now?

I don't know. He may have to go back, he may not.

Oh, please, don't tell me one thing, then another.

Please tell me, where is he?

I don't know, probably on his way here to stop you going away with Meister.

On his way here? But--

But I'm not going away with Mr. Meister.

Yeah, well, he seems to think you are.

I'm going to stay here even if I have to break every law there is.

Like Johnny?

Dear, oh dear. I've never seen such a terrible mess

as they've made of these burglar alarms.

It's a mercy they've never been needed. Where is that electrician?

He's gone home, I suppose.

I wish you'd gone home too.

I will when I've tried to disconnect this Heath Robinson contraption.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, this is where we say goodbye.

I hope you have enjoyed my hospitality and that the good times had by all,

but now the silly game is over and I'm locking up.

You'll be glad to be away.

Thank you. Goodbye, Mrs. Milton, thanks for the timely warning.

It's a little secret you will have to keep from your husband, I take it.

Goodbye, Bliss.

I shall watch the English papers for further news of your success.

Goodbye, doctor.

What are you doing there?

I'm just pottering.

Well, stop pottering, I'm locking up.

Aye.

I'm not coming with you.

Johnny is out. He's on his way here.

- Out? Who said so? - He's escaped.

It's a trick, Lisa, a police trick. No one ever escapes.

It's a very cruel thing, Wembury,

to raise hope when you know the situation as well as I do.

Better than you, shall we say.

What does that mean? You--

You tell me things and I don't understand what you mean. Where is Johnny?

The old cat and mouse game, my dear.

If he has escaped, he'll be back under lock and key before the day is over.

If he were free, why don't you produce him, Bliss?

Give us time.

Time? Not much to ask when we've got a couple of minutes only.

Can't you see what nonsense this is, Lisa?

Whom are you prepared to trust?

Me, whom you've known for two years, or the police,

who locked Johnny up and then tried to insinuate there may have been a mistake?

Insinuate nothing.

We haven't yet proved him guilty, that's all.

You will.

Get the luggage into the car.

Now don't be sidetracked by this last minute nonsense, Lisa.

Let's discuss it in the plane.

If you still feel strongly about it, you can always come back.

There is nothing final about you coming with me.

But I should have no peace of mind if I left you here now

under the circumstances. Don't you see?

- I-- - Yes, of course you do. Now we must hurry.

- Where are the tickets? - I think you left them on your desk.

Oh, yes, of course.

I'm afraid there's nothing I can do.

But he just can't be dead like that, man. Do something, quick!

But he is dead. Keep your hands away from that, Bliss, don't touch it!

That's what it is, he's been electrocuted.

I'll-- I'll go and switch off at the mains. Don't you touch that.

Oh, what a terrible thing.

Electrocuted, eh?

The wires must have been touching the tray and acted as a conductor.

- And the tickets were on the tray. - Yeah.

They took him further than he reckoned.

Distilled in Australia, eh?

Why the stethoscope?

It was foolish of the old boy to, uh,

tamper with this thing, wasn't it?

Someone who knows nothing about electricity.

Or for someone who knows a great deal about electricity.

Mrs. Milton.

I'd be grateful if you'd stand just where you are.

What a terrible thing.

Still, you never know.

Perhaps Meister was lucky to die like this.

He might've met The Ringer one day and...

then it probably wouldn't have been so painless.

We think he has met The Ringer.

Now what makes you say that, Bliss?

- Where? - You can drop the accent.

Yes, it's been rather getting on our nerves, doctor.

Harry Lauder made a fortune out of it.

You won't.

I don't have to.

Get the policeman, Wembury, stop this nonsense.

My dear, chap, isn't that my whiskey?

Good heavens, yes.

Really special stuff, you can't get it in this country.

Will you have one? You may never have another chance.

I'll see to that, Dr. Lomond.

So probably shall I, but don't call me doctor, please.

It makes me feel such a fraud.

You see, there was a real Dr. Lomond, a very nice old chap.

He died in Australia while he was treating me for kangaroo bite.

Kangaroos do bite, you know.

He had very excellent credentials, quite wonderful.

Scotland Yard always insists on excellent credentials.

So I borrowed them.

Impersonation and murder.

Murder? You mean this unfortunate accident to Meister?

You'll find it very hard to prove anything else.

My dear Bliss, think again.

Arthur.

Oh, my dear. I'm so sorry, how are you?

You let Lemley out of the cell tonight, why?

My dear Wembury,

he'd no business to be there, you know that as well as I do.

Well, you won't find a good Samaritan ready to let you out once you're in.

And you'll stay there for the rest of your life.

I don't think Arthur would want to live as long as that.

I think you'd better look after the doctor.

Take the car and get some men down here quickly.

Very good, sir.

He's still in the house, that's certain.

Anybody go through this door?

No, sir. Nobody passed me from the time I heard the shot till I came in.

There's a cordon around the house already outside.

They're sending more men down from the station to search inside.

- They'll be here in a few minutes. - Right.

Do you realise where you stand, Mrs. Milton?

Obstructing the law, helping a prisoner to escape.

You're going to be out of circulation for quite some time.

That'll be a nice rest. I've been doing too much travelling lately.

You'd better get her out of here.

Come on. We start upstairs.

There's been an accident.

Get a man to watch Mrs. Milton.

I'll have to take one off the guard outside.

- No, don't do that. - But listen to me, Johnny.

If you want, I'll come to you, but we won't have a chance.

Give me that.

Hello? Lemley?

This is Inspector Wembury speaking.

Now listen to me.

The sooner you realise you're in serious trouble, the better.

No, no, I don't want any excuses.

Look, if I come round, will you promise me that...

And I'm not making any promises!

What?

Well, where are you?

Well, come here immediately.

No. No!

You're gonna have trouble with that young man.

- Who are you? - Tele, sir, F division.

I've come here looking for a man called Lemley believed to be on the premises.

Well, never mind about that now.

Atkins, bring Mrs. Milton out here, will you?

I've, uh, I've seen you before somewhere, haven't I?

Yes, sir. I used to be in your division, sir.

Well, take Mrs. Milton down to Flanders Lane.

You ought to have another man, but we can't spare one.

Don't worry, sir, I can manage.

I'm glad to hear somebody's got so much confidence.

- Uh, Mr. Wembury, sir. - Well, what is it?

I'd like to get back to your division if there should ever be a vacancy.

- I enjoyed working with you, sir. - Did you now?

- Good night, sir. - Good night.

- Where's the driver? - Searching the ground, I think, sir.

Shall I take Mrs. Milton down to Flanders Lane and then come straight back?

- All right. - Right, sir.

Mr. Wembury.

Come here!

- What would happen if I kissed you? - Arthur, shut up.

No, tell me, what would happen?

I'd probably give you away like I nearly did at the police station.

When Bliss came in. Poor old Bliss, they all thought it was him.

Arthur, please.

Now where do you want to go to?

Anywhere, so long as you can get us out of this.

Peru?

Is it warm in Peru?

The sun shines all day and the moon shines all night.

- Let's go there, then. - Right.

Go on, get into the house before anything more happens to you.

Go and ask Lisa to keep an eye on you. Go on!

All right, on your way.

Do you love me,

Cora Ann?