Original subtitles

(Gunshot)

In reply to the honourable member's question, I can only say...

Ah!

- Paper, sir? - Yes, thank you.

Thank you.

(Screams)

Mrs Ransom! Where did you come from?

- Up there. - Mumsie, darling, are you all right?

Right as rain. Halfway down, I realised that was not the way out.

Quite right. Down the stairs is much safer.

- What about my blind? - Your blind! Put it on my bill.

(Sobs)

(Sniffs)

(Wails)

(Doorbell)

(Gas hisses)

Open up!

Open up! What the heck's going on in there?

(Banging)

- Where is he? - Gone.

- Gone? Who? - No one. The gasman!

- Wait a minute. The gasman? - The gasman!

Bill, I never expected you, I thought...

Then who are you dolled up for? The gasman?

- Bill! - And why is the door locked?

- What's my picture doing like that? - Oh, why are you always so jealous?

I'm sorry, honey.

I'm sorry. Why do I always blow my top?

- Lord Mayley? - Is His Lordship expecting you?

No one does, but I think he'll see me.

Thank you.

Right, sir... Now, quite still.

Sorry.

What a sight!

- Take your look. - Hmm?

Your position.

Now, quite still...

Thank you very much.

Oh, there you are, Henry. Finished?

- Yes. How do I look? - Very "chick".

- I thought the word was "chic"? - Not when applied to you.

There's a journalist to see you called Dennis. Smarmy creature...

Shh, he might hear you. You know how sensitive journalists are.

I suppose I'd better see him.

- Thank you, Lord Mayley. - Thank you, Mr, er... Mr...

- Mr Dennis. - Good day to you, my lord.

- Good day. Come in. - Is see you're going to a dance.

It's magnificent.

Oh, a joke! Very funny. Take a pew.

Thank you. I'll be as brief as possible.

- The... - Huh?

- No... - Oh, sorry. Thank you very much.

- Have a cigarette. - Thank you.

- Oh, seem to have run out. - Not to worry.

- What's this? - One of those scandal magazines.

The ghastly truth about people's private lives.

- Do borrow it. - How charming of you.

I shall thoroughly enjoy reading this.

Rather naughty, I believe.

Yes... Well, now. Let's get to business.

I am running a modest magazine entitled The Naked Truth.

- Rather a vulgar title, isn't it? - Perhaps, but terribly apt.

Here, we have a short biography of your public life and works.

Very nice.

On the opposite page, we have the real works.

- About me? - Yes, indeed.

- Then why is it titled Guess Who? - Because as British law stands,

the public mustn't be able to identify you

with the naughty hero of this article.

- Naughty? I don't quite understand. - Have you a weak heart?

- No. - Read it, then.

Just to check the facts.

You can't print this. You can't print this!

- It's libel. - It's the naked truth, old lord.

- But no publisher would dare. - I would.

I've been into the legal aspect carefully.

Mr X's amorous incident in Regent's Park...

Shh!

...has no connection with Lord Mayley's charity work.

Of course by judicious word of mouth, the public might connect the two.

You'll go to jail.

- I'll sue you. - Try it.

You'd have to prove Mr X was you, and therefore confirm the story's true.

- Dare you risk that? - This is England.

- There must be a way. - There is.

A cash gift of �10,000 to the Distressed Journalists Association -

of which I am the founder, treasurer and, so far, the only member -

would persuade the editor - myself - to suppress this particular issue.

- Blackmail. That's different. - Of course.

Either way, I make money - by cash or by raking in the royalties.

It'll sell like hot cakes.

Look how keen you were to read other people's secrets.

- Well, that's... - My card.

Pay up in a fortnight or I publish in a month.

- You... - Don't bother to kick me out.

Oh, pardon me. My cigarettes.

�10,000 for a quarter of an hour.

(Music and applause)

Thank you. On behalf of wee Sonny MacGregor,

welcome to the 167th edition of your top TV show -

the show you all enjoy and love, Here's Tae Ye!

Thank you.

Now let me introduce you to the star of the show,

the man who made it all possible, the jack of all faces,

the king of kindness, the ace of good hearts...

Wee Sonny MacGregor!

(Thick Scottish accent) Here's to you!

- Here's to you, too. - Welcome, Sonny.

A great big welcome to all the old folk

and the bonny young lads and lassies.

I can't tell the difference, you know!

I know that you're going to make this show a real sizzling humdinger.

(Applause)

Now, as you know, at this point,

we introduce the winner of last week's talent contest.

Here he is! Ex-Sergeant Ramble!

(Applause)

Here's to you, Walter boy, and here's your prize.

(Applause)

No, no, Walter. That's not your prize.

(Laughter)

How old did you say you were?

No, that's your prize, Walter. That's it, there.

(Laughter continues)

Aye. Now be a good boy, Walter. Be a good boy!

Yes, Walter, that pigskin wallet is for you,

because every week, we give one of these beautiful prizes away free,

but Walter, what use is a pigskin wallet to you if it's empty?

It's no use to you, is it?

- Is it? - (All) No!

Right. So, you know what I'm going to do, Walter? I'm going to fill it.

I'm going to fill it out of my own pocket.

Look at that. Ten beautiful, crisp one-pound notes, all for you, Walter.

(Applause)

Good job I'm not married. The wife might have been doon that pocket!

Now, Walter, did you bring it?

Did you? Well, let's see it, then.

Where is it? Oh!

He's brought it. He has. His penny whistle!

Walter, what ye gonna gie us?

- A bit of Largo's Handel. - Largo's Handel!

(Laughter)

Wonderful! All right, Walter boy,

it's all yours.

(Applause)

(Toots)

(Drops accent) "Largo's Handel"?

Is he trying to pinch my laughs? Stupid old nit.

I've just laid out ten pounds, put in a chit for ten guineas.

- Chief accountant was in. - Make it ten quid, then.

(Toots off-key)

There's a journalist, Mr... Dennis. Wants to see you. Left his card.

Not tonight. I'm too tired. No journalists, thank you.

He's very tenacious and in front.

Is he? Well, good luck to him.

(Laughter)

(Crowd chatters)

- Sonny! - Sonny boy!

I watch you on television. I think you're so funny, mate.

I think he's lovely!

Please, could you put "To Freda"?

Of course I can put "To Freda".

- God bless you, Sonny boy. - God bless you, Ma!

Phone me. Chelsea 1234.

- Could you put "To Mavis"? - I'm sorry, dear. No.

Mr MacGregor? My name's Dennis. I sent you my card.

Oh, yes. I'm sorry, I've no time.

If I mentioned a property in Eastwich, could we have a quiet chat?

Yes.

Look, he signed his name on my hand.

(All cheer)

I rather care for the bit about the star who loves slumming.

So true.

Look, just because I own a little property...

Oh! But what a property.

I doubt that the old folk living in those hovels love their landlord.

If they found out that it's Wee Sonny MacGregor...

But I... I haven't got �10,000.

(Scoffs) Spoken like a true Scot, but where's the bonny accent gone?

Yes... What a nice little house this is.

My home's a leaky Thames barge.

- I can't wait to settle down myself. - Listen, man...

I'll not plead for myself.

I just want you to cast a thought for those thousands of old folk,

poor, friendless old folk.

You see, they look up to me as their guide and comforter.

Right. I'll cast a thought for them,

and you'll cast around for the 10,000, hmm?

Don't bother to consult your lawyers.

I've consulted three. They all say that it's foolproof.

Take your choice. Pay in a fortnight or I publish in a month.

Don't bother to kick me out.

- Don't bite your nails. - Ah, shut up.

Mind your manners.

Well, you have got yourself into a proper pickle.

- You've been listening again. - I'm only trying to help.

Go on. Say it. Say it.

- I'm fired again, aren't I? - Yes!

We can both start looking for another appointment.

It's the end of Wee Sonny MacGregor. Don't bite your nails.

(Gavel banging)

(Host) Mr Chairman, ladies and gentlemen,

pray silence for that wizard of the perfect crime, D Mandeville.

Mr Chairman, ladies and gentlemen,

contrary to a widespread rumour,

I am a woman.

The fact that I write of detection, crime and sudden death

and prefer the title of D Mandeville

to that of my own name of Desiree Minsch

is probably responsible for this misconception.

(Laughter)

We are gathered here for the presentation

of the annual Purity Prize for Literature.

Flora is read by the highest and lowest,

the youngest and oldest in the land.

Never has this coveted award been more deservedly won.

(Man) Hear, hear!

In addition to winning this prize, Flora herself has also been won

and will shortly be embracing the church.

Good old Daddy Batty.

Flora, rise and get it.

Ladies and gentlemen, I do not deserve this.

All I can say is... this is the happiest...

the happiest... (Groans)

- (All gasp) - Flora!

- I confess I am greatly disturbed. - So am I, Daddy Batty.

She has something on her mind.

I haven't worked in a nursing home for all these years

without knowing when someone is... well, on the brink.

Quite. Quite.

- What are you whispering about? - Nothing, my dear.

I was just saying that that window ought to have a railing.

I don't want any questions. It was an accident.

Oh, yes, yes, yes!

I'm sure you'd no more attempt suicide than you'd contemplate...

- Murder? - Precisely.

Yes. I hope no one would suspect me of that.

Ethel, is that old trunk still in the loft?

I think so, Mumsie. Why? Were you thinking of going away?

No... but somebody else may be.

They could publish and get away with it, eh? Oh.

A good idea?! It's absolutely scandalous!

You lawyers ought to be shot.

No, of course I'm not being blackmailed.

It's just that I'm being...

It's... Oh, hell!

Hello? Is that Nurse Hopkins?

Lord Mayley here. I was just ringing up to ask about my wife's father.

Yesterday, it was rather feared...

Sitting up?

Remarkable.

Oh! He's probably fit enough to sign... I mean, read and write.

He is? Oh, good. Well, give him my regards.

Ah, who was that?

My stockbroker.

Lucy, I just had a tip for some shares.

Do you think your father might lend me some money?

I'm absolutely sure...

he wouldn't.

Blast!

(Men singing) # When you flap-a-jack a docker on a Saturday night

# You knock 'em down the Old Kent Road

# When you flap-a-jack a docker on a Saturday night

# You knock 'em down the Old Kent Road, hey! #

(Applause)

Wonderful. What part of Birmingham do you come from, Fred?

I don't come from Birmingham. I come from London.

He's a foreigner!

- Wonderful. What part of London? - Eastwich.

- Eastwich? - Yes. I never want to see it again.

- Right, then. Fine. - It's hell on earth.

- You can have Eastwich. - Shut up.

- I just don't like it. - Shut up about it!

- I'm only voicing my opinion! - Shut up about Eastwich!

- Cut! Cut! - Shut up!

(Phone)

(Man) 'Mr MacGregor? National News here... '

You must do something about yourself.

At this rate, you'll be finished without Mr Dennis.

What can I do?

I really don't know.

Push him under a bus. That's the way to get rid of pests like that.

That's just the sort of stupid remark you would make.

Me, who wouldn't hurt a fly.

Who couldn't...

I couldn't...

but someone else might.

- Who? - Anyone.

Any one of a thousand characters that I can create

and then destroy, just like that.

- What are you going on about, Mr M? - Murder, Potter. Murder.

Murder by person or persons unknown,

by someone who doesn't even exist, a will-o'-the-wisp,

murder by a figment of my imagination.

Oh, no. No, you mustn't.

You'd never get away with it.

I can smile and murder while I smile.

Oh, dear.

I'll drown more sailors than the mermaids shall.

- It's the Old Vic trouble, sir. - I'll play the orator like Nestor,

deceive more slyly than Ulysses could

and like a Sinon, take another Troy!

What's a good make-up to snoop around his barge?

Mr M, the telly's one thing, but real life's quite another.

- You'd only go and overdo it. - Why should I?

- Because you always do. - Charming.

Frankly, you always overact most dreadfully.

- You'll be sorry you said that. - All right, fire me again...

but get this mad idea out of your head.

Too late, my friend. The die is cast.

- Who is it? - Miss Right.

Well, this is an unexpected pleasure. Do come in.

It is wiser to telephone. Please sit down.

Would you like a drink?

I do hope this isn't an appeal to my better nature.

- I haven't one. - No.

You might as well know, my engagement's broken off.

I'll never see Bill again, so it's no good you going on blackmailing me

because I haven't a penny in the world.

This is shocking news. But 16 Texan oil wells shouldn't be thrown away.

That doesn't matter. You wouldn't understand.

I really love him, and I'm nobody without him,

so, please, please, leave me alone.

I'm sorry, but it would still make a good supporting feature.

"Lurid past loses luckless model Texan oil millions."

- (Sobs) - Look, my dear.

You'll be better off trying to win him back

than wasting your time and mine.

What the d...?!

- (West Country accent) Sorry, sir. - What are you doing here?

I beg your pardon, sir, for barging in.

- Get out of here! - I'm trying, sir.

All right, I'll see that you do.

Wait here a minute.

MacGregor...

What the devil are you doing?

- Do you want to know who I am? - Yes, I do.

Well, sir, see, I'm from the London Bureau of Boats, Barges, Brigs,

all tethered bottoms and maintenance of, sir... that's it.

Maintenance? This place is condemned. I'm the last one.

Lucky you are. If you've got wet rot on the top,

you've got dry rot on the bottom.

- What are you talking about? - I'll show you. Look at that.

- What...? - Oh!

I'll see what I can do. I'll put my report in...

and I'll try and get them before they close.

I haven't got a cork with me, so I'll be back later...

Terrible thing, you've got there. Dreadful thing, that.

Terrible mess you've got there, terrible mess.

- Madam? - Some knock-out drops, please.

- Some...? - Knock-out drops.

- You want a pick-me-up? - If I did, I would say so.

No, quite the reverse. Knock-out drops. Surely you've heard of them?

- For knocking out what? - People. Who else?

- You mean a sleeping draught. - I suppose so, but instantaneous.

My dear madam, you're asking for a Mickey Finn.

- Am I? - We have a mild soporific here,

if you're sleeping badly.

I'm sleeping perfectly well, thank you. Mickey Finn... Mickey...

Thank you very much.

Desiree, you are the expert on crime, how would one obtain a Mickey Finn?

Well, I get all dope on drugs from a little crook called Maury Fish.

He hangs around in a pub called the Limehouse Arms.

The Limehouse Arms? Thank you very much.

(Piano music and chatter)

- Yes? - Gin and...

Port and lemon, please.

- Thank you. - One and six.

- You know Maury Fish? - Why?

I want some Mickey Finns. The real McCoy, mac.

- What for? - Ask no questions, eh?

Wait here.

Hello.

Good evening, boys.

- Have you got the stuff? - What stuff?

- The Mickey Finns. - What do you want 'em for?

- Ask no questions, eh? - I'm afraid it's our duty, madam.

- We're police officers. Come along. - (Sighs)

(Footsteps)

My dear Lord Mayley! This is an unexpected pleasure.

Laden with good news, I trust?

- Yes... and no. - Ah... Hmm...

I'm willing to pay but the point is this -

my wife's rich father is on his last legs.

- So? - He won't last a year.

She'll get the lot, I shall be able to extract.

A year? I gave you two weeks, remember?

- Yes but �10,000... - You're an insurance chief.

- You earn a lot. - My wife spends a lot.

- If there's any left, I spend it. - Too bad.

I don't know where I'm going to get �10,000.

- You can do it. I have faith in you. - You...

- You what? - You sw... ine!

- Help! Help! - Hold on! Don't panic!

Don't panic?! I can't swim!

Help! Help! (Splutters)

What the devil are you doing here?

Day and night service. I reported your leaky bottom for you.

- Are you all right? - (Mayley) Yes.

Take him home. He's a valued friend of mine.

- Aye, aye, sir. - Home to a hot drink.

We don't want you getting pneumonia. Good night.

Good night, sir. Come along, my darling.

Don't call me darling!

I'm sorry. I should have thanked you for saving my life.

Half a crown?

It ain't worth it. I'd have done it for a tanner.

(Laughs)

Your moustache...

Oh, yes, sir. I got the creeping alopecia, sir.

It crept all over my lip, it did, sir. Yes, sir.

- Fetch Mrs Ransom. - Yes, sir.

I'm sure Mrs Ransom was after local colour for one of her romances.

Local colour is one thing.

Asking a publican for a Mickey Finn is another.

- I don't know Mr Finn. - Knock-out drops, sir. Drugs.

Oh, my goodness!

Then hurling abuse at a police officer, and giving a false name.

- "Lotus Blossom." - Good gracious.

- She had been drinking. - Oh, never.

No, Mumsie is totally teetotal.

She was on port and lemon tonight, miss.

Well, I'm sure she's very sorry indeed. She's been under stress...

I shall write to my MP!

You haven't heard the last of this, not by a long chalk!

- Flora! - Sit down.

Masquerading as civilians. That oaf who arrested me hadn't even shaved!

Madam, nobody has arrested you. Now please go home.

If you want to know anything about crime, ask the police.

Very well, then. Where would I get a Mickey Finn?

I haven't the faintest idea.

There you are, you see? Come, Cedric.

What are you waiting for? Come along. Ethel, come on!

Sergeant, where would one get a Mickey Finn?

I haven't the faintest idea, sir.

(Creaks)

- Good evening. - (Gasps)

Must you keep jumping out?

You seem to have jumped in. What on earth...?

- I... I got caught in a storm. - It hasn't been raining.

It was raining where I was. Cats and dogs.

- And mud, I see. - Yes, I must brush that off.

By the way, one of your girls has been telephoning.

Really? Which one? I mean... What do you mean?

She had a twangy voice and refused to give her name.

- Never heard of her. - You will. She's in trouble.

Impossible. It must be a mistake.

(Sighs)

A bomb... Yes, a bomb would do it.

A bomb would blow him and his records and the barge to kingdom come,

yet it wouldn't hurt anyone else.

Yes. But where do we get a bomb from?

Well, if you only want a little one you'd have to go to Ireland.

Honestly! Bomb, indeed. Get the whole mad idea out of your head.

Ireland... That's it!

(Irish accent) Ireland!

You remember that old villain at the Dublin show. He was still at it.

Get me a sprig of that stuff they wear in the buttonhole. What is it?

- Shillelagh. - No, shamrock, you twit.

And book me on the first plane to Dublin in the morning, right?

(Sniffles and sneezes)

Henry? Henry?

Please don't ask any more questions about that storm.

An orphan of the storm has just arrived.

- What? - Your girl.

Look, I keep telling you, I haven't got a girl.

- What's she like? - Oh, about 40.

I thought you said she was a girl.

- I wasn't referring to her age. - Eh? Oh.

Poor Henry. It never rains but it pours, hmm?

I've never seen her before. It's a lie.

- What? - Whatever she says I've done.

- Oughtn't you go and find out? - Yes, I jolly well will.

And be careful. You might fall.

- Good evening. Did you want me? - I'm sorry to come like this.

I know you've done something dreadful, too,

but you needn't pay a penny.

- What are you talking about? - That beastly Dennis.

Come here, will you?

...and there were magazines on Sonny MacGregor and a lady called Ransom.

Now I've nothing to lose, I'm going to expose everything.

- To whom? - To the police.

You may have nothing to lose but other people have.

- You don't want to pay him, do you? - I have my reputation to think of.

I can't discuss this with you here. It's most embarrassing.

I'll come and see you tomorrow...

I can't. I've got a board meeting and a charity dance.

I'll come the day after tomorrow. Until then, expose nothing.

- Where do you live, by the way? - 54, Chillingdon Court. You know it?

Yes, I used to have... Day after tomorrow.

- Ah-ah. This way. The firm will... - The firm?!

Yes, the firm will try to straighten out matters.

- We will try and find the man. - Dennis? But I know...

Do nothing till you hear from me. 12:30, the day after tomorrow.

Phew!

54... 54...

Darling... Shall I jot it down for you?

No!

(Silence)

(Irish accent) A drop o' the hard stuff, please.

Right away.

- Three and six, please. - Right, right, right...

- There. - Thank you.

# 'Tis the shamrock in her hair that reminds me of Killarney

# And the little people standing in a row

# And... #

God bless all here.

#... the boys on the stalls and the people of Killarney... #

My name's Lannegan. I'm from across the water.

You'll be O'Toole, and it's right glad that I am to meet you.

I'm descended from the kings in the halls of Tara.

It's like this. We're doing a job in London.

'Tis the Albert Hall at all, and we've run out of the jelly.

So, if you're letting me have some gelignite, I'll be doing the job.

But why are we talking in the cursed tongue, when we have the Gaelic?

Oh... Llanfairpwllgwyngyll...

gogerychwyrndrobwll...

Ilantysiliogogogoch.

He's an Englishman, all right.

Ah! My nose.

(Delirious) His nose has all gone!

F...

F-A... F-A...

F-A-R...

F-I... Fist... Fistula... Flat...

Ethel, how do you spell Finn?

- What? A fishy fin? - No, a Mickey Finn.

Oh, Mumsie. You and these Mickey Finns.

I'll have no peace until I get one from the nursing home.

What did you say?

The doctors use them on the violent patients.

Why didn't you say? Why didn't I think of it?

- Get me some. Plenty of them. - Mumsie, I was only joking.

Wait! Sit down.

Ethel, I have something very important to tell you.

You know how much my reputation as a writer

and as a woman means to me.

You're loved and respected the whole world over, Mumsie.

Till now, yes.

Ethel, many years ago, your father was in China.

Money was short. I was young, beautiful.

It was easy, and so was...

I fell by the wayside.

So, you slipped, darling. So do tons of people.

You found your feet again.

For some months, I lost my head completely.

Ethel, suppose someone found out

and was threatening to expose me to the world.

What would you say?

I... I'd want to kill him, Mumsie.

Splendid. That's exactly what we're going to do.

- Mumsie! - I have it all worked out.

- I've recced his barge. - Wrecked his barge?!

No, Reconnoitred. He lives on a barge.

- But, Mumsie... - Shh!

Hello? Are you that Dennis creature? This is Flora Ransom here.

I have your money. Come and collect it at 7:30 tomorrow night.

Now, you get the pills, I'll prepare the trunk.

"Solder wire to hole marked Z."

And that's that.

- Wonderful. - Whatever's that?

That, my friend, is the bomb completed.

Now for the gunpowder.

Get out my Indian army colonel with the overdraft clothes.

(Doorbell)

Mr MacGregor? My name is Lord Mayley.

- Yes? - We haven't met before

but you're said to be a very decent sort.

- You're very kind. - I'm sure you agree

that we should help each other.

- How much do you want? - No, I want to help you.

Mr MacGregor, if I mentioned the name Dennis,

and that I know that you're being "B"-ed...

- "B"-ed? - Well, blackmailed.

- Look, may I come in? - Wee Sonny MacGregor blackmailed?

- I think you're mistaken. - You're wondering why I'm here.

I know why you're here, friend. You're being "B"-ed, too.

- No, I'm a complete outsider. - I wouldn't say that.

Please, let me explain. A young lady came to see me...

You're a lucky fellow. Good luck to you, sir, and good day.

- Mr MacGregor? - Go away.

You'll regret this.

- How did he find out? - I don't know.

Why didn't you let him talk? He obviously wanted an ally.

The more friends we have now...

Make an ally of that idiot? No, thank you. I'll rely on my bomb.

And now... for the gunpowder.

(Doorbell)

Bill! Oh, Bill!

Honey!

Oh, no! We don't want any today.

- Don't want any what? - I don't know who you are.

- (Whispers) Go away! - Of course you know who I am.

- I don't! (Go away!) - But you asked me here!

You haven't forgotten the other night? You got me out of bed!

Well, didn't you?

Don't, Bill. No! Bill!

Don't, please, Bill! Bill, please! Don't!

Please... Bill! Please, come here!

All right. All right. I'll leave him alone, and I'll tell you for why.

We're through! Finished! Finito! Understand?

Good afternoon, sir.

(Upper class accent) Good afternoon.

I'm having a day's rough shooting and want some bullets.

Cartridges? Certainly, sir. Any particular make?

No, as long as they've got gunpowder in them.

- What bore? - Boar?

No, no. A few rabbits, pheasants, small fry, you know.

No, no, sir. Bore. B-O-R-E.

Bore! (Laughs)

- Hmm? - 12, 20 or 4-10?

Er... Definitely, yes.

Well, which, sir?

Well, the largest you have, surely.

12-bore. How many, sir? 50?

No, I think you'd better make it a thousand.

- A thousand?! - Yes.

But didn't you say a day's rough shooting?

Yes, I did, er... and it may be pretty rough.

On second thoughts, I think you'd better make it 1,500, perhaps?

Right. That's whisky, gin, sherry,

tea, coffee, cocoa - all Mickey Finned.

He's bound to accept one or the other.

Mumsie. Oh, Mumsie! This is stark-staring murder!

Remember, before you pop him in, you must take his keys.

But why should I have to do all the dirty work?

He'd never take a drink from me. He'd suspect foul play!

- I shall be hung! - It's "hanged", and you won't be.

Oh, Mumsie!

I'll go by the service stairs to avoid him. Is everything clear?

Good. I'll be in the car at the front.

The moment he falls insensible, signal from the window.

- You'll have a lot to answer for.

- Mumsie! - It won't be long now. Chin up.

Chin up... Oh!

It's... Mumsie, she...

(Shrieks)

(Doorbell)

Ohh...

Oh. Mrs... Miss Ransom?

Are you alone? May I come in?

Charming. Charming.

- Going away? - No. No.

Yes, Miss Ransom... Hello.

Excuse me.

Mrs Ransom, if I mentioned the name "Dennis" and the word "blackmail",

would this mean anything to you?

Yes? Splendid. What I want to know is are you going to pay him,

or are you going to fight?

I don't know.

Would you like a drug...? A Mick...? A drink?

- Yes, I think I would. - Please.

Wh... Wh...

- What would you like? - Anything, thanks.

Other than tomato juice, of course.

You know, Mrs Ransom, this is a great relief to me.

First, I'd like to introduce...

Whoa! Just a minute. You'll have me passing out.

Could I have a little soda, please?

Thank you. Your very good health.

Mmm! I needed that.

Well, Mrs Ransom, we now come to rather a delicate question.

If the threat of publication is genuine, we...

(Stutters)

I say...

(Mumbles) Oh, dear.

(Sobs)

What, inside already? Bravo! Well done. Keys?

- Come along. Best foot forward. - Oh, Mumsie. No.

We can't leave him in there. He'll suffocate before we drown him.

No, it must look like suicide or an accident.

One, two, three... Go!

That's the way.

- Good evening, Mrs Ransom. - Constable Johnson, give us a hand.

- Somebody going away? - Yes.

- What's in here? A body? - Yes! How did you guess?

- My daughter murdered him. - Poisoned or suffocated?

- Both, I'm afraid. - Very funny.

- Why did you do it? - He was blackmailing Mumsie...

- Ethel! Good night, Constable. - Good night.

Once he's in the pond, we'll go to the barge

and destroy the cabinet's contents.

- Can't we do it without killing him? - Of course not.

He'd just hide himself away and write it all over again.

Of course we must kill him. Whoops! Steady. We mustn't hurt him.

Come along, Ethel. Give us a hand.

Come along! We'll tip him out from here.

Come along, Ethel. Right. Up. There!

Give him a pull. Come on.

Botheration! He's stuck. You'll have to launch him! Come along, Ethel!

Shh! You'll wake him! Shh!

Hurry, girl. Hurry!

(Gasps)

Right, strap the trunk. Come along.

- He looked so happy. So happy! - Splendid. Then everybody is.

Last lap. The barge. Come along.

(Snores)

(Sniffs)

Darling...

What's the time, darling?

(Splutters)

Help! Help! Where am I!

My goodness! Where am I?

(Gasps)

(Ticking)

(Footsteps)

- The silly chump. He didn't lock it. - Don't speak ill of the dead.

Come on. There it is. Come on.

Careful. This is it. Come on. Lift it.

Careful. You'll have it bursting all over the place.

Come on!

Do you realise that the contents of this cabinet

could rock London to its foundations?

And provide very interesting reading, too!

Oh, Henry?

- Oh, my heart! - Yes, that's the trouble.

Another storm? No... Seaweed.

That's it. That's it. Yes, I... I had a dip.

- A midnight dip. - Fully clothed?

Well, I couldn't go in in the nude, could I? Well, could I?

- I fell in. - Well, fall into bed.

- I'll get the doctor. - I'm going out again.

Where to this time? The Serpentine?

(Tuts)

I'll get Maria to lay out your frogman's outfit.

Go and clean up. You look a terrible sight.

(Doorbell)

Oh, good evening. Is Mrs Ransom in?

Yes, but I'm afraid she can't see anyone at the moment.

Then I'll wait.

Please, couldn't you come back tomorrow? Mumsie...

Mumsie won't be in the least surprised to see me.

- Been rather an evening. May I? - Yes, of course... No!

- It's bad! Gone off! Flies! - All right, all right!

- (Door opens) - It's Mumsie.

(Dennis) Good evening.

Well, don't look so surprised. You expected me earlier,

or did more pressing engagements banish it from your mind?

No, no, no... Of course I expected you.

- Won't you have a drink? - No, thank you.

- Your daughter warned me. - Did she?

Ethel, come here. Excuse me.

Certainly.

Oh.

How did he escape?

- Who? - Dennis, girl. Dennis!

- That's not Dennis, Mumsie. - Of course it's Dennis.

- I should know. - Well, it can't be.

Then who was the man in the trunk?

Oh, Mumsie, what have you done?

What have I done?! You have murdered an innocent bystander.

Control yourself.

- Get this back to the barge. - Why?

If he misses it, he'll be suspicious.

Besides, it pointless our taking it while he's alive.

If I nobble him now, we can get it back.

Though why you had to go and warn him...

Hurry! Hurry! Our whole future depends on it.

(Chuckles)

Forgive me. I was getting rid of my daughter.

Getting rid of people seems to be a hobby of yours.

Eh?!

Are you sure you won't have a drink?

Oh, no. For once, I think I won't.

- Oh... - Please sit down.

Business before pleasure.

The keys!

Beautiful evening, Constable. Beautiful evening.

Mr X was then pushed into the pond. I don't know why you did it,

but if that isn't worth double what I asked, I'm a Dutchman.

It was a dummy. We... I was working out a plot.

Pinching a plot, don't you mean?

What would your chum say?

Therefore I suggest a contract

making over 50 per cent of all your future royalties forever.

- Impossible. - Then I'll send an anonymous letter,

telling police to drag the pond and name you as the culprit.

- Mumsie! Mumsie! - Go away!

But, Mumsie, the keys! You've got the keys!

In my raincoat pocket. Hurry.

Don't say there's someone else for the high jump.

What about the money you mentioned?

I couldn't get it. It may be a few days.

Well, the new deal will be �5,000 down in advance of the 50 per cent.

When may I hope to see the cash and contract?

Why, you...! My agent is away.

Come the day after tomorrow evening at nine o'clock.

Well, don't let me down this time.

- No. - Good.

(Footsteps)

(Engine starts)

Beautiful night, Constable. Beautiful night.

Excuse me, sir, you got... Oh!

Oh! You. Mr Creeping Alopecia. No you don't! There's something fishy here.

There'll be something even fishier soon, sir.

We're going to stay here and discuss this very quietly.

"Mystery explosion wrecks peer's car"!

Well, Henry? What's going on? Come on. Out with it.

I'm cheesed off. If it isn't police or reporters, it's you.

Just a couple of minor accidents and a girl I'll never see again.

(Knock on door)

Miss Melissa Right to see you urgently, sir.

So, we're off again. Show her in, Maria.

Show her right in.

Bathing again, or is this a dry day?

Good morning, my dear. How very nice to see you again.

My husband was afraid we'd seen the last of you.

I have a feeling you won't be needing your frogman's flippers today.

- You shouldn't have come here. - I'm...

Shh!

(Whispers) I came to apologise about yesterday.

Is that the only reason you came?

No, it isn't. Now I've really lost Bill.

- I am going to the police. - Please... That's no good.

No point crying over spilt milk.

You don't understand. It's not his money I care about.

I really love him.

So, now I'm getting my own back on that beastly Dennis.

Just a minute. You said you saw a file on that authoress Flora Ransom?

- Yes. - Right! We're going to see her.

I have a few questions to ask that murderous woman.

Excuse me.

- Have a good time. - I am not going to have a good time!

Is Mrs Ransom in?

She's out but we are expecting her back soon. Come in.

Thank you.

My name's Bastable. I'm the lucky fellow she's consented to marry.

She's a widow, you know. This way.

Oh, was Flora expecting you?

- I hardly think so. - Oh.

Let me introduce myself. My name is Mayley, Lord Mayley,

and this is Miss Right.

Oh, congratulations!

No, no. That's her name.

Her name? Oh, how do you do?

Yes...

Would you care for a glass of sherry while you wait?

Yes, please.

Er, has Mrs Ransom been a widow very long?

Oh, yes. Many years.

Yes. Many, many, years.

Her poor husband died out east in rather mysterious circumstances.

- Oh? - Yes. Drowned, poor fellow.

- Oh! - Flora was in England at the time.

Oh.

- (Doorbell) - Ah! That may be she.

She's... (Chuckles) She's apt to forget her keys.

Let me do the talking.

Good morning, sir. Mrs Ransom?

She's out but we expect her back, if you'd care to come in.

Well, I am, sir, aren't I?

- Nothing to worry about, sir. - Oh, I'm sure there's not.

I'm inquiring about a missing cabinet last seen in her possession.

- I don't know if you know anything? - I've no idea. Now, please...

- Well, won't you come in? - Yes, thank you.

This is Lord...?

- How do you do? - And this is Miss, um...?

This is a most genial gentleman from the police.

- Pleased to meet you. - Will you have a glass of sherry?

Well, I'm not supposed to on duty, if you'll pardon the... word...

but a small one for medicinal purposes.

- Splendid. - Yes.

Well, for what we are about to receive...

Oh, Mumsie, need we flee the country? If we made a clean breast of it...

Murdering a stranger by mistake? Go and finish off that trunk.

How you can use that of all trunks?

(Screams)

- Now what? - It's... It's Daddy Batty.

He would come! Get rid of him. We're going on holiday, remember?

Well, let me in.

He seems to... Well, he has...

- a female. - A female?!

Cedric! Why, you brazen hussy!

- Good heavens. They're asleep! - Mumsie, look!

Sergeant...

The police, they found out!

They've doped themselves. We may still get away.

- Mumsie, look! His moustache! - They're onto us all right.

He's a plain-clothes brute disguised as an ordinary policeman.

We must get an earlier plane. Stand guard while I finish packing.

- What's this for? - To crown him with if he wakes.

- No! - In for a penny, in for a pound.

(Screams) No! No!

Another?! Who is he?

- It's him! - Him?

- It's him! It can't be but it is! - Him who?

The one we drowned!

- He's come back! - Ethel, stop it! Are you sure?

Back from the dead and still so happy! (Shrieks)

Stop it! Control yourself!

Here. Drink this. Here.

Mumsie...

- You... - No!

- You! - No, Ethel!

Ethel! Oh!

Ohh!

(Distant chatter)

...tomorrow night is my deadline.

I beg your pardon.

Quite a congregation.

Oh, am I interrupting something?

Yes, Cedric. We're working out a plot.

That's curious. It's dark already.

- I seem to have... - Dropped off? Yes, Cedric.

- Ethel will find you a taxi. - Taxi? Oh, thank you very much.

Before I dropped off, didn't you have a moustache, Sergeant?

Yes, Cedric. That dropped off, too. Away with you.

Well, good luck to your endeavours.

Thank you. We'll need it.

Oh, dear. Oh...

- Now, where were we? - My plan.

I'll polish him off but I'll need an alibi from you.

Just a minute. I object to violence.

That's handy after hours of discussion(!)

I never said I'd do anything. I consider murder rather un-English.

One's got to draw the line somewhere.

What's your alternative? The police? Go on. I don't mind.

I never did like you, not even on television.

Look, Dennis is coming here at nine tomorrow night.

I can get on the barge. I'll see you at eight. Get a tape recorder.

- Thank you so much. - Henry?

Delighted to meet you, Mr MacGregor. I'm a fan.

Is my husband giving you some comic ideas?

- Well, some ideas. - If I could only say,

the things that happen to him in his private life!

Mr MacGregor and I have insurance matters to discuss.

- We mustn't be disturbed. - Really!

Right. Take a pew.

Now, did you write up some insurance dialogue?

- There you are. - Right.

Incidentally, one day, I might really take out a policy with you.

I wouldn't insure your life for tuppence... or mine.

- Ready? - Mm-hmm.

"Here are the figures, MacGregor. Have a look."

"I get all that with such a small premium?"

(Mayley) 'Here are the figures, MacGregor. Have a look.'

(MacGregor) 'I get all that with such a small premium? '

- That detestable little man again. - He saved your miserable life.

Half a crown! Huh!

(MacGregor) 'I get all that with such a small premium? '

We'd better record 15 minutes' worth of that.

- How long do you think you'll be? - Depends on when he goes to sleep

but I hope to have finished the job by midnight.

(Footsteps)

(MacGregor) 'The personal risk clause interests me.'

(Mayley) 'Here are the figures, MacGregor. Have a look.'

(MacGregor) 'I get all that with such a small premium? '

(Footsteps)

I'm sorry I'm late, love. Mother would go on so.

We can say we spent our holiday cruising.

Yes, cabin class. Come on, we'll be late.

- You don't want that! Come on. - Oh, all right.

What the dickens are you doing here?

Morning, sir. I were looking for you, sir, about your top and bottom.

No need. I've let the barge to a young couple.

So I gather, sir. Yes. Yes.

Oh, just in case. Where are you removed to?

To the country. As you're here, you can help carry my luggage to the car.

- I say! Mr Dennis? - Yes.

I'm a police officer. Who are you?

Er, I'm from the West London Bureau of Barges, Brigs, Boats...

Buzz off. Mr Dennis, I've got a warrant for your arrest

on the charge of demanding money with menaces from Wilfred Aintree.

Anything you say may be used in evidence.

I won't say anything but if I'm to go down, I'll blow them sky-high...

- Oh. All right, let's go. - In here first, please.

You won't find much in here.

(Clock chimes)

(MacGregor) 'The personal risk clause interests me.

'Supposing some frightful disaster happens to me? '

(Doorbell)

(Mayley) 'Here are the figures, MacGregor. Have a look.'

(MacGregor) 'I get all that with such a small premium? '

- Oh, good morning, Lady Mayley. - Good morning.

Good morning, yes. Erm... I, er...

- Yes? - Well, I, er...

I'm sorry to trouble you at this hour but is your husband there?

(Sighs) Not all there, I'm thinking.

Sorry.

- Henry? - (Mayley) What?

Do you and Mr MacGregor want breakfast?

- Just a minute. I'll ask him. - No, I'll ask him.

He's out here with me.

You know, I have come back to clear up one small point.

Do you mean to say I really get all that with such a small premium?

Excuse me.

(Locks door)

Dr Wilson.

Dr Wilson... Dr Wilson...

Nigel! I can't believe it.

And Virginia. Can't believe that.

Mario. I can believe that.

I say. You were a bit of a lad, weren't you?

All lies.

Pleased you got the file.

What's the use? He won't forget our names. Sky-high, he said.

"I'll blow you all sky-high."

And he will, the cad.

- So, we're sunk. - If he talks.

We might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.

- MacGregor? - Hmm?

Dennis must not be brought to trial.

So, are you going to break into jail and kill him?

No, break into jail and get him out.

- What?! - He must be saved at all costs

and taken out of the country.

Are you crazy?! We've been killing ourselves trying to murder him.

And you failed dismally. Now I'm taking charge.

Get on the telephone to that Ransom woman. Come on.

- We'd never get away with it. - WE wouldn't...

but we've got hundreds of allies here from every strata of society.

Look. Pilots, ship owners, doctors, politicians. Everybody we could need.

- For what? - For the greatest escape in history.

- Get on the telephone! - Yes...

Yes, we'd have the police running in circles.

Hundreds of loyal allies welded together in a common cause.

Good Heavens! Sir Hatton Aysbrook. He's on the board of my directors.

He'll have to go. We can't employ disgusting people like that.

- Come on! Get on the phone! - Yes, yes.

Brickwell, to fetch the prisoner.

He phoned - they are using the Wolseley!

Right, come on!

Help!

Police! I'm being attacked!

F-F-Four men. Third floor, 14, Stretton Street, WC2.

14, Stretton Street, WC2.

Hello, 70G. Hello, 70G for George.

'Woman attacked, 14, Stretton Street.'

Hello. 70G for George. Message received. Over.

(Siren)

(Screams)

Help! Police! Odeon Cinema!

Police! Quick! Gang fight!

Help! He's going to murder me! 10, Lucas Square, SW7.

Hello, 7 A for apple. Frobisher Street, gang fight.

Help! Help! He's breaking in!

(Banging on door)

Where is he? Where is he?

Oh, darling, I'll explain later. I'm so pleased to see you.

Hello, 15B, 15B. Bremnitt Crescent, maniac at large.

(Siren)

- Dennis trial starts today. - OK!

What's this? A jamboree?

I say, old boy. Your tyre's punctured.

Yep!

It's a lovely day for a trial.

Lovely day for almost anything, Mr Dennis. (Chuckles)

- What? You?! - For you own good.

So, you've had a puncture. Well, mend it!

No, you can't have a relief car. We're too busy.

- Everything all right, Doctor? - Yes, and thank you.

We've a long way to go yet.

Bravo! Well done indeed.

Open the door, Doctor.

- I really do believe we've done it. - It's the last lap that worries me.

I'm sorry. This is for your own good.

Oh, well. Whatever that was, it's over.

Prisoner kidnapped on way to Old Bailey.

Bet you a quid to a copper that's another hoax.

I've always wanted to go in a helicopter, Wing-Commander.

Most exciting.

The last lap is likely to be even more exciting.

Probably the death of all of us.

That's for your own good, old man.

- Well, last lap but one. - Don't mention that last lap.

I don't what you're worried about. Admiral Kinley says he's had one leak

in the past 15 years.

Even so, 200 miles out in the Atlantic in a frail craft like that.

- We should have got an aeroplane. - How could we transfer him?

- (Whack) - (Flora) That's for your own good.

He's popped off again.

How are we doing?

- Thirty minutes behind schedule. - We'll be on Skylark in two hours.

(Groans)

Cheer up, skipper. It won't be long now.

I always knew I'd hate this thing.

You know, I've said a lot of rude things about you in the past, Henry,

but I've got to hand it to you,

this has been a magnificent piece of organisation.

Thank you, Sonny. I really do like you on television.

He's coming round.

It's all right. We're not going to hurt you.

- Where am I? - 200 miles out in the Atlantic.

Soon, we're going to transfer you

to a ship bound for South America and safety.

- Why? - Why?

Because of your threat to expose everyone, we decided to rescue you...

- on conditions. - What conditions?

You never set foot in England again or attempt to blackmail your victims.

Three hundred people worked on your escape.

If there's one more peep out of you, you'll get done 300 times.

You did all this

We had to prevent the worst scandal

since Lady Godiva took up horse riding.

But I wasn't going to talk. I had a very good chance of getting off.

Yes, and if my counsel were right,

you destroyed most of the evidence when you took that cabinet.

So, you're in it up to the neck.

If you don't mind, I feel a bit faint.

I think I'll get some fresh air.

(Yells)

The fool! What on earth did he do that for?

He's probably a very good swimmer.

Anyway, what are we worrying about? Whoopee!

(Bang)