All language subtitles for The Paradine Case 1947 720p BluRay x264 SiNNERS

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Dinner will be ready
in 15 minutes, madam.

Thank you, Lakin.

Inspector Ambrose is here, madam.

- Show him in, will you?
- Yes, madam.

Good evening, Inspector.

Good evening, Mrs. Paradine.
I don't think you've met Sergeant Leggett.

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

I must say, I'm rather surprised
to see you again, Inspector.

I can't imagine there can be anything else
that you want from me.

I know, Mrs. Paradine.
I'm aware of what you've been through

but I've been sent here to arrest you.

It's incredible.

I'm sorry.

Then you want me to go with you?

Yes.

I'll tell them I won't need dinner.

Will you ring?

The bell is over there, beside the picture.

Do you like the picture?

It was finished a week or two
before he died.

I think the artist has caught
the blind man's look quite wonderfully.

Mrs. Paradine, I have to use
some formal words at this point.

Lakin, ask Ellen to give you my black
lamb coat and my black handbag.

I suppose that if I need other clothes,
they can be brought to me?

Yes, ma'am.

Well?

I have a warrant for your arrest

and it is my duty to warn you
that you need not say anything,

but what you say will be taken down and
may be used in evidence upon your trial.

The warrant charges you
for that on May 6,1946,

you did willfully administer
or cause to be administered

some poisonous substance
to one Richard Patrick Irving Paradine

and did murder him.

Lakin, I shall probably not be back
this evening.

Very well, madam.

Tell cook I'm sorry about the dinner.

Yes, madam.

- Good night.
- Good night, madam.

Yes, I know the country very well.

The trouble is
it's so difficult to get there.

We can't go by car, of course.

In here, sir.

I hope you'll forgive my being late.

The fact is, I was just dressing for dinner
when your call came.

I took it in a bath towel.

This is Chief Inspector Ambrose.
Sir Simon, my family solicitor.

Yes, we're old friends.
How are you, Inspector?

Well, thank you, Sir Simon.

We don't often see you here, sir.

No, you must excuse
an old man's foibles.

The fact is, I'm not
very keen on this place.

We'll get out of it as soon as possible,
Mrs. Paradine, won't we?

As soon as possible.

When you're ready, Sir Simon,
we'll make the formal charge.

- Do you want to go into another room?
- It's not necessary.

Just give me a couple of minutes here.

Now, my dear, let's not waste words.

You don't have to tell me
the police are making a terrible mistake.

We mustn't despair.
Above all things, we mustn't despair.

- You're not despairing, are you?
- No, Sir Simon.

Now, let me see.
They'll read the charge over to you

and then ask you
whether you've anything to say.

I think you'd better say, "No."

Just like that. Quite simply, "No."
Is that understood?

- Yes.
- All right, then.

Maddalena Paradine, the charge is

that you, on May 6,1946,

did willfully murder
Richard Patrick Irving Paradine.

Do you wish to say anything
in answer to the charge?

I have nothing to say.

That's all we can do at present.

I'll look in and tell your maid
to put together some of your things.

You're allowed a few things at this stage.

Who is to defend me? You?

At the trial? Dear me, no. Of course not.

I'll get you one of
the distinguished leaders of the Bar.

- Do you know Mr. Anthony Keane?
- I've heard of him, of course.

He's very good in this sort of thing.
Full of charm and cunning.

But the juries like him. So do I.

- Won't it be difficult to get him?
- We'll see. We'll see.

At the moment, he's on a case in Lincoln.

I'll get my daughter to run me down
and have a talk with him.

You'll like him.

That's not as important as his liking me,
is it?

I think he will. Good night.

Good night.

Good night.

Will you come this way, please?

- Think it over, Keane.
- I will, Simmy, I will.

- Good evening, Baker.
- Good evening, sir.

- Tony.
- Yes, my love.

I knew it.

I knew you didn't have an umbrella
or raincoat. Oh, darling.

You're wet through, Tony.

Baker, will you please bring up
the cocktails from the study?

- You might ask me if I won my case?
- You always win your case,

even though you don't have enough sense
to come home dry.

Simmy's car. It leaks.

Come take your things off, darling,
and have a hot shower.

I'll make your drink strong.
With luck we may pull you through.

Simmy wants me to take a case for him.

Mrs. Paradine.

I don't believe she did it.

Do you mind telling me why?

As her defending counsel,
I might be able to use any bit of evidence.

Well, nice people don't go about
murdering other nice people.

So you think she's nice?

Her photograph looks nice.

And anyone who wasn't nice wouldn't
have married that poor blind man.

Here you are.

- Just right.
- Good.

So it's your opinion that nice people
never murder their husbands?

Well, I suppose there are circumstances.

It's amazing how 11 years of wedlock
with the greatest realist in the country

haven't altered a single one
of your lovely delusions about nice people.

I'm glad you're defending her.

Why?

Darling, your hair's still wet.
Let me rub it.

Not so hard.

It's nice to be married to someone
who can help others.

- Even save their lives.
- Watch it.

But you have changed, you know, darling.

Eleven years ago you wouldn't
have taken on this Paradine case.

Nonsense. I never turned down
a thumping big fee then

any more than now.

You'd have taken it on.

But only after sneering for weeks
at the decadence of the rich.

I hardly recognize my lost ideals.

I remember the first time you called on me

with two tickets for the first night
of that Shaw play. Do you remember?

You'd forgotten to dress.

The look of horror on Mother's face
as we left the house.

It took you five years
to forgive that parting look.

It took her 50 years to perfect that look.

You seem reasonably dry now.
Better get dressed.

Darling, I'm not really mental.

I know you're not. But if I didn't pretend
you were, now and then,

I couldn't possibly live
with so wonderful and brilliant a man.

I use that sort of talk only on juries.

- Does it actually work?
- Come here.

No, darling,
the Drydens are coming to dinner.

Come here.

No, Tony, darling, please.

You'll find her a strange woman,
with an almost mystic calm.

How do you do, Sir Simon.

Well, here's the great man himself,
Mrs. Paradine.

May I present my colleague, Mr. Keane?

- How do you do?
- How do you do, Mrs. Paradine?

You may take heart now.
We've got the Royal Marines on our side.

You're going to defend me?

The Royal Marines look forward
to very little trouble.

A brief skirmish,
and you'll be lunching at the Savoy again.

Really? I haven't been thinking
about lunching at the Savoy again.

I know what you've been thinking.

- Do you?
- Yes.

Wild, dark thoughts such as,
"Death, where is thy sting?"

"Grave, where is thy victory?"

I keep hearing them all the time

saying I married a helpless blind man
for his money

and then killed him for his money.

And what will they say of Dickie?
It makes him out such a fool for loving me.

We'll have answers for whatever they say.
You loved him and he needed you.

You know that?

- Weren't you his eyes?
- I was, of course. I had to be.

"Had to be," Mrs. Paradine? Had to be?

Dear, dear. You must mind your verbs.

Sir Simon means
it was a piece of voluntary service.

You devoted your whole life
to this splendid fellow freely, gladly.

Yes, I see what you mean.

It was a sacrifice. A sublime sacrifice.

Yes, I think it would be better
to regard it in that light.

It was the more tremendous
that Paradine could not understand...

Could not possibly understand
the sacrifice you were making.

He'd never seen you.

He'd never, as I say, seen you.

Yes, yes, quite so. Quite so.

I'm not sure whether Mr. Keane
will put you

in the witness box or not,
but if he does...

I don't think we need trouble
Mrs. Paradine with all that at this stage.

When shall I be seeing you again,
Mr. Keane?

Just as soon as I've gone over the details
with Sir Simon.

Thank you, deeply.

- Well, good afternoon.
- Thank you for bringing him.

Until the next time, then.

Come along, Keane.

So you think Tony
was taken with her, Father?

Let's not go
on one of your fishing expeditions.

All right, don't tell me.

Tony may be as good a lawyer
as you think he is,

but how he loves anything dramatic.

Do hold still if you ever want me
to get this thing tied.

The impertinence of young people today
is simply appalling.

- If it's one thing I can't abide...
- I know, I know, it's impertinence.

Can't you just see Tony giving another
of his great performances?

Riding to the rescue of beauty in distress.
How he must relish this.

If the case comes up before Horfield,
he better not try one of those performances

or he'll be sat upon,
and properly.

Good gracious, we're late.

Let's hurry, or Horfield
will take it out on poor Sophie.

And let's not miss a single word
of His Lordship's reminiscences.

If I hear once more of his gay times
in Deauville with Lady so-and-so...

Remarkable old girl, Lady Millicent.

We used to have great times together
at Deauville, back in the '20s.

I persuaded her to go in swimming at 70.

I watched her frolicking in the surf
and had sad thoughts

about the impermanence of beauty.

My dear, have you swallowed
a plum stone or something?

No, Tommy, I'm all right.
I only... I mean...

I thought perhaps...

Don't be too long, you men.

I always think this is
so terribly antiquated.

I mean, the ladies, but he likes it.

I shan't let him keep us away from you
too long.

Give me a call, Father, if the conversation
takes an interesting turn.

I see that you haven't forgotten
my deaf ear.

Keane is too good a barrister
to have forgotten that.

Sometimes I wonder
how good you really are, Keane.

Good enough or lucky enough.

Come, come, come, no false modesty.

There are not many better, shall we say?

Perhaps, perhaps,
but I am a legalist myself.

You, my dear chap, have this habit
of overcharging yourself with emotion

when facing a jury.

I'm bound to confess
that it does not particularly appeal

- to my sense of what is proper.
- Oh, come, come.

Keane is not all that emotional.

Please, Simmy, I do not like to be
interrupted in the middle of an insult.

- Will you have a cigar?
- Thank you.

You understand, Keane,
that all this is simply my concern for you.

- Will you have a cigar?
- No, thank you.

Tommy has a great opinion
of your husband, my dear.

At least, I think he has.

- Your husband is very clever, isn't he?
- Yes, I think so.

So's mine.
I'm not sure that I like it.

Shall I hurry them up?

They'll be kicking
the good old days around all night

if somebody doesn't ring a bell.

I shouldn't be telling you this,

but I do so dread it
when he has to take a murder trial.

He comes home looking so...

Yes, I can well imagine.

It must be a terrible nervous strain,
trying a capital charge.

Yes. That's it.

That's very comforting.

They were retrying Charles the First,
and Tony got him off.

You've been such a long time.
I've been chattering and chattering.

My dear, I'm sure that Keane and Simmy
would like to see your jade.

Would they?
I have some such pretty pieces.

Very much indeed.

You look very, very appetizing tonight,
my dear.

Charming compliment from
such a gourmet as yourself, Lord Horfield.

Tell me, Mrs. Keane,

I don't amuse you very much, do I?

No, no, I've always admired your wit,
Lord Horfield.

Then you may call upon my wit
whenever you wish.

Life can be very boring for grass widows.

What makes you think I'm a grass widow?

Don't let's be pedantic.

Golf widows, stock exchange widows,
and law court widows,

much the same thing.

That's a charming ruby.

Tell me, did your husband earn all that
whacking away at juries?

Lady Horfield was admiring it, too.

It pleased me so much
because she has such excellent taste

in most things.

Keane, afraid your wife is wearying of me.

Pity, pity.

- Aren't you coming up to bed, darling?
- In a little while, dear.

You'll be tired in the morning.

- A dull evening, wasn't it?
- Yes and no.

I have a murderous day tomorrow.

I should never have let Simmy talk me
into the new case

with all the others I have.

Did you see Mrs. Paradine?

What's she like?

Strangely attractive.

- I'm sure you'd think so, anyway.
- No, I wouldn't.

What do you mean?

She's cost me too much.

Cost you?
What on earth are you talking about?

If you don't remember,
I'm not going to tell you.

The anniversary, and that trip I promised.

We'll still make it, my love.

Maybe before the case
even comes to trial.

It's all right, darling.

I'm afraid your excitement is
always going to be in the Old Bailey

and other musty old law courts.

No, dear.
Honestly, I was thinking just today

how much fun it would be to go to Italy.

Italy? I thought we'd planned
on going to Switzerland.

I know. But Italy somehow seems

so much more colorful.

Might go back to Venice.
You know, get in a gondola.

Oh, darling.

- What's the matter? What's so amusing?
- Nothing.

I can't imagine anything more wonderful
than being in a gondola again with you.

What is it, then?

Well, it's just that you're so transparent.

And for such a devious kind
of barrister, too.

You're pretty devious yourself,
don't you think?

Come on, tell the jury
what's on your mind.

All right.

Mrs. Paradine is strangely attractive.

And isn't Italy colorful? So?

- Of all the idiotic...
- I thought it might please you

to know that I can be jealous.

Well, it isn't that.

How can you think I can be
interested in a woman...

Silly, of course you're not interested.

I hope you're not getting so old

that you can't admire
an attractive woman.

But I want you to know something.

There are lots of men
who find me attractive, too.

Is that so? Who, for instance?

- Well, there's Tommy, for instance.
- Tommy?

Tommy Horfield.

It's getting late, darling.

Time we were in the gondola.

Well, I think that's enough for today.

- Are they treating you well?
- Yes, they're very kind.

Have you all the books you want?
May I send you any?

- No, they have quite a good library here.
- Good. Good.

Very soon, I'd like to talk to you
about yourself.

Before you met Colonel Paradine.

Will that be necessary?

It's one of the more annoying parts
of this business.

The prosecution will
always try to tear down

the character of the defendant.

Naturally, I wouldn't like them
to have the advantage of me.

My past is no affair of anyone
but my husband and myself.

And my husband is dead.

Mrs. Paradine, the character
and background of the defendant

are of grave importance to the defense.
It's my duty to warn you of this.

And how far back will this inquisition go?

Well, as much as I dislike it,
I must advise you to convey to me,

at least, anything that you think might be

embarrassing.

I must say, Mrs. Paradine,

that it's essential
that I have your cooperation.

Forgive me if I'm being difficult.

I shall try.

It will not shock you, I assume,
to learn that I'm a woman...

What would you say?
A woman who has seen a great deal of life.

Mrs. Paradine,
please don't mistake my persistence

for any lack of sympathy.

When I was still at school in Naples,
it began.

I was 16, or so I said.
Actually I was younger.

- Tragic.
- Yes, perhaps.

But I didn't think so then.

I ran away with a man.

Istanbul, Athens, Cairo.

He was much older, of course. Rich.
He took advantage of your youth.

He was married, respected.
I took advantage of him.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it ended.

He wearied of me, I wearied of him.
What difference does it make?

And there were others?

Of course there were others.
We cannot hide these things.

You said we cannot hide them, Mr. Keane.

Let's drag them out.

Let them hang me for the past,
and be done with it.

You mustn't feel that. We won't permit
them to make anything of it.

Poor Dickie.
How he would have hated all this.

He gave me his name. His fine name.
He depended upon me to protect it.

- He knew all about you?
- I kept nothing from him.

He was so good. He trusted me.

He used to sit in the dark,
the eternal dark, and weep.

- The pain never...
- I've tortured you enough.

We'll get you free. Trust me.

I shall. I do.

Why not let the Crown
have the burden of proof of its accusation?

But, Simmy, what possible objection
can you have to our proving suicide?

I think it's dangerous. Remember,
if we have Horfield on the Bench...

You all have such an unholy fear
of Horfield.

What's in your mind, Keane?
I don't understand you.

Blind men have committed suicide before.

We have only
to decide who helped Paradine to do it.

Here, let me show you something.

Have you ever realized what a lot
you can learn from photographs?

The social footsteps of time.

- Notice anything peculiar?
- No, can't say that I do.

And everywhere the Paradines went,
the valet was sure to go.

What's so extraordinary about that?
Latour worshipped him.

Guided Paradine's every step
like a mother hen.

It's after midnight.

My darling,
I know it's after midnight.

In fact, it's after 1:00.
I heard the clock strike.

But I'm not sleepy,
and I have work to do.

- Simmy looks dead.
- Well, he isn't dead.

Quite right, my dear.
I only look dead.

- What about some drinks to revive you?
- That's a good idea.

- Why don't you have Baker bring us...
- Baker's asleep at this hour

like any civilized person.

I'll bring them myself.

That's our man, Simmy.
I'm sure of it.

Our man?
Who? The valet?

Who more likely
to help Paradine out of his misery?

Forget it.
I can't think of anyone less likely.

The devoted, grateful servant
and war companion

who would do anything
to help end his master's agony.

It won't wash, Tony. Let's face it.
This wasn't suicide

and it wasn't assisted suicide.
It was murder.

Are you trying to imply
that Latour might have murdered him?

- I'm not talking about Latour.
- Who, then?

I'm talking about our client.

So you think she killed him?

That's what the Crown thinks,
and will try to prove.

There's no sense going into court
hurling other names into the case.

We have to prepare ourselves
to answer the Crown on Mrs. Paradine.

- I'll have an answer.
- With facts?

To begin with, we have the very simple
and obvious fact

- that Mrs. Paradine is not a murderess.
- Really?

- She's too fine a woman.
- Indeed.

I was of the impression
she'd been a woman of very low estate

and rather easy virtue.

Why, you're an insufferable snob

incapable of recognizing
genuine character.

I only hope the Crown tries
to foul her name once. Just once!

I'm sorry, I hadn't realized the extent
to which she'd impressed you.

I've talked to her for hours,
and I've done more than hear her words.

I've seen the decent,
lovely woman behind them.

And I intend that the rest of the world
shall see her as I do.

As a noble, self-sacrificing human being
that any man would be proud of.

We've run out of soda water.

Well, ordinary water will do.

Shall I pour yours, Simmy?

Please. A strong one.

Latour worshipped the Colonel.
That's true, isn't it?

Yes.

He was alone with the Colonel a great deal,
during the day and night?

- Yes.
- So, if Colonel Paradine,

blind and unable to help himself,
wanted to die,

there was only one person
he could turn to, isn't that right?

- I won't say that.
- You won't say what?

- That André helped him.
- André?

Latour.

You called him André? A valet?

I'm not too well-trained in the more subtle
snobberies of your class.

My class?

I'm afraid you don't know me very well.

I know you.

Always ready to sacrifice some underdog
to win a point.

You seem extraordinarily eager
to protect this man

from even suspicion of involvement.

- What do you mean?
- I mean, you talk about Latour as if...

As if what?

I'm a bit confused. I don't understand
your attitude towards Latour.

You speak his name oddly.

This is truly impossible.

I'll not listen to any more stupid,
vicious innuendos.

You spoke as my rescuer.

Talked about a brief skirmish.

So I did.

I'll try to recover my position
as your champion.

We'll drop Monsieur Latour
for the time being.

No, I think Keane has given up
the idea entirely

of dragging the valet into the suicide.

At least, he hasn't been able
to talk Mrs. Paradine into it.

Has he got a substitute, or is he going
to follow your advice for a change?

I don't know.

- He's turning detective.
- What do you mean?

He's going to Cumberland
to investigate Hindley Hall,

- the Paradine country house.
- But the thing happened in London.

I'm bored with this game.
Let's finish it later.

The adventures of Anthony Keane
are much more interesting.

I don't know how you came by this
decidedly unfeminine interest in things.

Your mother was a simple, old-fashioned
woman who'd shudder at the thought of...

I'm glad you're not going on
with the game, you nearly had me.

- Is Tony infatuated with that woman?
- What?

Where on earth
do you get such insane ideas?

Tell me something. How does Hindley Hall
happen to be still open?

It's not really open.
There's just the housekeeper...

What sort of plot are you concocting now?

- Is that handsome valet still there?
- I refuse to answer any more questions.

If you're not going to play chess,
I'm going to write some letters.

Now go to bed.

I bet you he's going up there
because there's something

between Mrs. Paradine
and that valet.

Valet? Where did you get that notion?

Why are you looking so funny?
Did you have the same idea?

I wondered if Keane could've found out...

That she and the valet...
That's it! And he's jealous.

My heavens,
he's jealous of that valet!

- Come, come.
- Don't "come, come" me.

Have you ever known Tony
to visit jail so often

for any other client?

Tony is still in love with Gay,
and you know it.

And why shouldn't he be?

If he lets Gay down
after all these years...

Such things do happen.

I'm sorry to have to tell you, my dear,
that your education, such as it is,

was paid for by many a broken heart.

- He's in love with that woman, isn't he?
- Get off my lap.

I've never seen it to fail.

Men who've been good too long

get a longing for the mud
and want to wallow in it.

Where did you read that?
Tony's too decent for that sort of thing.

Really?

The best men always end up
with the worst women.

He's after her boyfriend.
That's why he's going to Cumberland.

- That's absurd.
- Don't you think I'm right?

Answer me.

I'll not be treated as a hostile witness
by my own flesh and blood.

Men are such horrible beasts.

I wish I were married to Anthony Keane
for just one hour.

I'd make him jump through hoops.

I wish you were married to someone.

Perhaps he could put up
with your claptrap better than I can.

I hope...

No, I don't hope they hang her.

I don't like breaking pretty things.

But I do hope
they send her to prison for life.

What's she really like?

Fascinating.

Fascinating.

I'm an old ruin,

but she certainly brings
my pulse up a beat or two.

Poor Gay.

- Hello, Tony.
- Hello, darling.

- You're late.
- I told you not to wait up for me.

I wasn't.

I think I'll be off to bed.
Good night, darling.

Tony?-

Yes, dear.

I'm sorry if I don't seem
quite myself, it's...

- I have a headache.
- I'm sorry that you're not feeling well.

I'm afraid I'm a bit
on the ragged side myself tonight.

Tony, couldn't we get away?
Just for a little while?

You do need a rest.
I've never seen you quite like this before.

I'll be all right.
Just a good night's sleep.

Even if it's only for a few days.
For our anniversary. You did promise.

Really, darling. There are some things
more important than anniversaries.

You didn't use to think so.

As a matter of fact,
I may have to go away.

Mrs. Paradine and her husband
used to live a good deal of the time

at a place called Hindley Hall,
up in Cumberland.

I thought I might nose around a bit.
You know, see what I can pick up.

At the same time get a breath of fresh air.

That sounds wonderful.
You won't be busy all the time, we could...

But, darling, it's only for a day or two.

Look, it wouldn't be any fun for you.

You see that, don't you?

Yes, I see.

Might be cold and wet up north.

Yes, I suppose so.

This is the place for you.

Warm, cozy, protected.

I want to keep all this ugly business
away from you.

But can you?

- Can I what?
- Keep the ugliness away?

Haven't I always? What do you mean?

What are you afraid of?

Need I say?

Listen, darling. This settles it.

Nothing is worth this kind
of trouble between us.

I won't go to Cumberland.

I won't go on with the case at all.
I'll give up the brief.

- Tony.
- I mean it.

- Simmy can get someone else.
- What will she say?

What the devil does it matter
what she says?

The case isn't so difficult.
Any one of 50 men can handle it.

Isn't that what you wanted?
We'll leave for Switzerland next Sunday.

- Tomorrow, perhaps.
- Darling.

- What's the matter now?
- Nothing's the matter.

Just thank you.

Thank you for being so good.

I knew my old Tony couldn't have changed
quite that much.

Well, what do you say?
Lucerne or St. Moritz?

No, darling. Neither.

You're going up to Cumberland,
then you're coming back to your office

and then you're going into court.

No, no, I'm tired.
That's what you said, and you're right.

You're not too tired, Tony.
You're not too tired.

There aren't 50 men
who can save her.

There's only one Anthony Keane.

You've always had
such big ideas about me.

No, darling, I haven't.
Besides, I have a stake in this, too.

I don't know what you mean.

I wouldn't like a woman to be hanged,
any woman,

just because my husband
had a rendezvous with her.

In jail.

Gay.

You must go to bed, darling.
No, Tony, not now.

You'll come up
to Cumberland with me.

I'll be waiting here.
Cozy, comfortable, and protected.

- Good night, darling.
- Good night.

- Have I a sitting room?
- Yes, sir, you mentioned it in your wire.

- Would you be wanting to see it?
- Yes, please.

Would you like some cold fish and salad
before you go to bed?

No, thank you,
but any chance of a whiskey and soda?

Okeydoke.

Your bedroom's number 17.
I'll have your bag sent up.

Thank you.

- Are you a detective?
- No, why?

I just wondered.

Why do you ask?
Have you had trouble here?

No, not exactly here, but we don't like
being in the Sunday papers.

Haven't you heard
about the big poisoning case?

That was Colonel Paradine.
He had Hindley Hall.

Mercy me, your fire's going out.

- Yes, I heard about that.
- This chimney won't draw.

We found a dead owl in it last Sunday.

That murder's been the talk of the place.
It was Mrs. Paradine that did it, they say.

That's better.

The sticks were damp,
and the wind's in the wrong way.

- Did you know her?
- Nobody knew her.

She'd ride over here once in a while
on a black hunter.

Pleasant enough,
but she never spoke to no one.

- Did she always ride alone?
- There, that's got it.

Yes. Now I come to think of it,
she always was alone.

Now the poor Colonel's dead
and the house is up to let.

I heard it was.
That's why I came, as a matter of fact.

That's why you're here, Mr. Keane.
I was wondering.

Are you going to see
the house tomorrow?

Yes, I think so.

Well, would you mind going
in a pony and trap?

Our car's all booked up for tomorrow.
It's only about eight miles.

- Fine, fine. Make it about 10:00.
- Okeydoke.

Up there yonder in those trees
is the Hall, sir,

where the poor Colonel lived.

Many's the time I've seen him walking
around here, blind as he was, with André.

- André?
- André Latour, the Colonel's body servant.

A queer one.

Is anyone living at the Hall now?

Only the caretaker, Mrs. Carr.

Maybe André's back from London now.

They say he knows more about
the poor Colonel's death than he'll tell.

He's a queer one, all right.

In what way?

I don't know. He keeps himself to himself.

Perhaps it's because he's foreign.

They never seem quite the same,
do they, sir?

Latour, here's a gentleman from London

come up with an order
to see over the Hall.

- I'm interested in renting the house.
- In renting the house, Mr. Keane?

Will you come in, please?

If you wait here, Mr. Keane,
I'll open the shutters.

- Isn't he coming back?
- He might and he might not, sir.

Will you step this way?

This is the morning room.

It was the poor Colonel's favorite room.
It has a fine view, sir.

He loved to have her describe it to him,
every time the seasons changed.

- Did she...
- I'll show you the upstairs, sir.

And this was her room, sir.

I'm sorry it's so untidy, sir.
I was packing up her things.

If you'll excuse me, sir,
I'll open up the other rooms.

- Latour.
- Sir.

I should like to see the gardens.
Would you take me around?

Very good, sir.

Wait there for me.
I'll be down immediately.

We won't bother about the other rooms.
Latour's going to show me the gardens.

Very well, sir.

What door is that?

It's Latour's room.

Latour? Why wasn't he
in the servants' quarters?

She felt he should be near the Colonel.

I may drop in again. Tomorrow.

- Where's Latour?
- I'm sure I couldn't say, sir.

- But he was to show me the garden.
- He was called away.

All right. Back to the inn.

Can I have a word with you, sir?

Come in.

What can I do for you?

It is not a question very easy to answer.

How did you know that this was my room?

I saw you come up from the lakeshore,
and then this light go on.

You've been watching the inn
for some time.

Yes, I walked over from Hindley.

- To see me?
- Yes, sir.

It came to my mind
it could be well to see you.

Sit down.

Why didn't you come to the front door?

What was your object in coming in
the back way?

They'd all gone to bed, sir.
I didn't want to disturb the household.

- You might have come earlier.
- I didn't care to come earlier, sir.

- Why not?
- I leave that to you, sir.

What is it you want with me?

Beg pardon, sir, but I thought it was you
who wanted to see me.

- What caused you to think that?
- Well, you came to the Hall.

I didn't come to the Hall to see you.

I didn't know you were there.
I came to see the house.

But you asked me
to show you over the garden.

Yes. You said you would, and then
you shot out of sight like a rabbit.

- Why?
- I don't know.

I think first,
"No, I do not want to talk to him."

Then I think perhaps I'm wrong.

Remember this, Latour.

You forced yourself on me.
I didn't seek you out.

You're apparently going to be
a very hostile witness in this case.

You're not one of my witnesses.

And it would be most improper for me

to try to establish contact with you.

- I came on you entirely by chance.
- But you wanted to come on me, sir.

You choose to say so, but it so happens

it is my business, my job,
to save the life of your former mistress.

Beg pardon, sir. She was not my mistress.
Colonel Paradine was my master.

Have it your own way.

I would never have served a woman.
It is not in my character to do that.

I insist upon knowing what was your
reason for wanting to see me tonight.

If you tell me why you came
all the way from London,

I'll tell you why I came here.

So it's to be a bargain, is it?

- Why should I make a bargain with you?
- Call it what you like, sir.

All I say is you tell me,
and I'll tell you.

Seems fair enough to me.

- Cigarette?
- No, thank you, sir.

- You don't smoke?
- I won't smoke, sir. Thank you.

I know why you wanted to see me.

- She sent you.
- She?

Mrs. Paradine doesn't even know
that I'm here.

She has nothing to do with my coming.

It seems I'm wrong, then.

- Why would she send me?
- She might have her reasons.

- I don't know what they might be.
- But perhaps you don't know her as I do.

Mrs. Paradine is my client. I know her
as her lawyer. That's sufficient for me.

You may not think it,
but you're on the wrong side, sir.

And I tell you so.

What do you mean, exactly, by that?
You'd better make yourself clear.

Excuse me, sir. You have only known
Mrs. Paradine since she is in prison.

- Is it not so?
- Yes.

Then how can you know her?
If you did, I should not need to tell you

that only Almighty God
or the black devil himself

knows what's going on
in that head of hers.

I won't hear anything more against her.

I know what I am talking about.
What I say is true.

I know her.

And I will tell you one thing more.

I will tell you about Mrs. Paradine.

She is bad, bad to the bone.

If ever there was an evil woman,
she is one.

Would you mind getting out of here?

I don't want any dirty,
lying sneaks in my room.

- Get out.
- Very good, sir. As you wish.

If you'll allow me, sir,
I'm very sorry for you.

And God help you.

- Here you are, sir.
- Holloway Prison.

- How are you?
- I thought you'd forgotten me.

No, I'd been out of London for a few days.
I went up to Hindley Hall.

Why did you go there?

I thought it might help me
to know more about your background.

I walked on the terrace,
went into the house, into your room.

I saw Latour.

He behaved very strangely.

At first, he avoided me,
then he forced himself on me.

He came to my room at the inn
late at night.

- Why did he do that?
- He wanted to talk to me.

- About you.
- Indeed.

And what did my husband's valet
have to say about me?

Don't, I beg of you.
Don't behave this way with me.

I don't know what you mean.

Latour hates you. You know that?
He hates you most bitterly.

He said you are an evil woman.

Do you know what he meant by that?

This man despises you. Why?

- He despises all women.
- What's the good of telling me that?

It's you he hates, not all women.

The jury will find a reason
why he hates you.

Because of something
that you might have done

- to his master. Can't you see that?
- Of course I see.

You needn't explain these things to me
as though I were a child.

Listen to me.
I want to save you.

I want to fight for you,
but I can't like this, in the dark.

I can't sleep, I can't work,
I can't think...

I don't understand you.

All right.

Is it possible that Latour hates you

because you made him disloyal
to his master?

- That's enough, Mr. Keane.
- What existed between you and Latour?

I will not be treated in this manner
by my own counsel.

I should prefer
that you give up the case.

No, I must save you.
No one else can.

My personal feelings are such...

You must forgive me
if I regard my life as more important.

I apologize. Deeply.

If you'll forgive me,

I shall do my best to defend you.

I am a little tired.

I think you also are a little tired.

Is Tony back from Cumberland?

I'm sorry, Judy. What did you say?

Just making conversation.

I asked whether Tony was back
from Cumberland.

He was due back this morning.

I haven't seen him yet.

Give me a cigarette, will you, Judy?

When did you start smoking?

Just lately.

Poor Father.

I'm afraid he's failed
with me in every way.

What do you mean?

For 20 years, he's been telling me,
"Do not ask questions."

"Leave others to tell you if they choose.
Only vulgar people probe."

You're my best friend, Judy.
Ask anything you wish.

You must know what everyone is saying.

I know it's probably exaggerated.

Would it surprise you very much, Judy,

to know that he wanted
to give up the case?

Surprise me? It would absolutely floor me.
Why didn't he, then?

Because I wouldn't let him.

Suppose someone else
had taken up the case,

it would've been won or lost.

Either way,
the little romance of Gay and Tony Keane

would've been ended forever.

Perhaps so.

Judy, darling. Just because a man,

a husband, fancies some other woman,

you don't treat him as a criminal.

- You don't.
- I doubt if you would, either.

It's very painful,
but it's painful for him, too.

He's very fond of me

and I'd like to keep him so.

Even if it means letting him go?

No.

Simply by not making him suffer too much
for hurting me.

After all, I don't own him.

I only love him.

Hello, Baker.
Mrs. Keane home?

I'm in here, Tony.

Hello, darling.

You're just in time for tea.

Pour me a cup, will you?

- How was the journey?
- Not very interesting.

You're doing your hair a new way.

No, you've seen it like this
hundreds of times.

Would you rather I didn't talk?

What do you mean?

Nothing at all.
It's just that you look a bit tired.

No, there's really nothing
to tell you, dear.

It's a...

It's a big house,

rather what you'd expect.

You know the Lake District.

Oh, Tony.

What is it you want
to know about, dear?

Nothing. Actually...

Shall we dine early,
or would you like to sleep for a bit?

I suppose you hate her, don't you?

Let's not talk about it, Tony.

I'm trying hard. I'm hoping...

You're hoping that I'll lose the case.

I wouldn't blame you, darling,
no matter what you hoped for.

You've been my life, Tony,
and for such a long time.

Do you think I could ever want
anything bad for you?

No. I suppose not.

I won't deny there have been moments
when I've wished the worst for her.

It's not easy
to face the thought of losing you.

We've been really married,
really truly married,

as few people have been.

Yes, I've lain awake alone,
night after night,

and I've been tempted to pray that she'd...

But I've come to a conclusion, Tony.

I want her to live.

I want very much for her to live.

And I hope she gets free,
scot-free, free to kill

or take other wives' husbands

or do anything else that comes
into that beautiful head of hers.

I don't understand.

You can't really care what happens to her.

But I do. I care very much.

Not for any noble reasons.

I do hate her.

But because I want all this business
over and done with,

and an end to your being all mixed up,
part lawyer, part lover.

What nonsense!

Nonsense.

All right, frustrated lover, then.

Yes, and part husband still.
Because you're not finished with me.

You wouldn't have come back home today
if you were.

I've seen your torture, and I've loved you
all the more for letting it torture you.

- I know the depth of your feelings.
- Yes, Gay.

I know it, and I'm counting on it.

All I ask is that she lives,
so the fight can be an even one.

Because if she dies,

you're lost to me forever.

I know you'll go on thinking
that you love her.

You'll go on imagining her
as your great, lost love.

May I tell you something, Tony?

You don't love her.

No, you don't.

I may not be the cleverest woman
in the world.

There are lots of things I don't know.

But there's one thing I know
better than anyone else:

I know you.

- My dear, if only...
- I don't want you to say anything.

But I do ask you for the most brilliant job
of your entire career.

I want you to win this case.

I want you to get her free.

There.

I've made my speech.

What a speech.

That's what comes of being married
to a lawyer.

I'm going up to change now.

- You coming along, darling?
- Yes, in a minute.

Are you ready, Mrs. Paradine?

Silence.

All persons who have anything
further to do before the Lords,

the King's justices of oyer and terminer,
and general jail delivery

for the jurisdiction
of the Central Criminal Court,

draw near and give your attendance.

- Wait here.
- God save the King.

Bring forth the prisoner.

Maddalena Anna Paradine.

You are charged with the murder
of Richard Patrick Irving Paradine

on May 6 last.

Are you guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

But Gay, darling, I don't see
how you can possibly stay away.

No, Tony won't be able to see you.
We'll be in the gallery.

Just two more dim faces.

On the night of May 6,

at a time we may be able to fix
within the compass of a few minutes,

some persons or person administered
to Richard Paradine

a murderous dose of poison.

For at 9:30 he was heard calling for help,

and a few minutes later he died painfully

before he could be reached
by his old comrade-in-arms

and faithful servant, André Latour.

You'll hear that on the night of May 6
a quarrel took place,

in which the participants
were Colonel Paradine,

Mrs. Paradine, and André Latour.

The Colonel, being
in a very agitated state,

shut himself up in his bedroom alone.

The butler took his dinner up to him,

a dinner consisting of roast chicken,

roast potatoes, and cauliflower Au gratin.

Later he asked that a single glass
of burgundy should be put by his bedside

so that he would know exactly
where to feel for it.

A single glass of burgundy,
ladies and gentlemen.

Farrell's off to a good start.

You're aware of the Colonel's character.

He was a man cast in heroic mold.

One looks back on his life
with humility and pride.

He was like a reincarnation from
the spacious days of Queen Elizabeth.

Incredibly daring, illimitably adventurous.

And this man, this man of dynamic energy,

is doomed suddenly to darkness,
and the life of a helpless invalid.

Members of the jury,

we must surely pity this woman,

chained as she was to a ruined giant,

who was burning
with a dreadful resentment.

One could forgive an occasional outburst
or demonstration of impatience from her.

But the odd thing, ladies and gentlemen,

is that outwardly
this woman was a model of patience.

But heaven knows
what sultry fires were banked within.

It would have been a considerable strain
to any ordinary woman, no doubt,

but this woman, the prosecution contend,
is no ordinary woman.

She had patience. She could wait.

This was indeed no ordinary woman.

Now, Lakin,

you've said that after you served dinner
to Colonel Paradine in his bedroom,

he asked you to place a glass of burgundy
by his bedside. Is that correct?

Yes, sir.

Would you call that
a suitable bedtime drink?

- You, as a butler?
- No, sir, I would not.

- But the Colonel...
- Answer my questions, please.

Had he ever asked for a glass of burgundy
to be put by his bedside before?

No, sir. Not that I can remember.

Did he usually drink burgundy?

It usually didn't agree with him, sir.
But sometimes...

That will do.

He's building a suicide motive.

One moment, Lakin.

I think you told the jury

that Colonel Paradine
did not usually take burgundy

because it disagreed with him.
Did he dislike burgundy?

No, My Lord. On the contrary.

He was very fond of burgundy,
but seldom dared take it.

Yes, My Lord, that is correct.

Horfield's killed that point.

How? What do you mean?

By making it clear
there was nothing so extraordinary

about his drinking burgundy.

I was anxious the point
should be clear, Mr. Keane.

Thank you, My Lord.
I'm obliged to Your Lordship.

No questions, My Lord.

Call André Latour.

André Latour.

Take the Testament in your right hand
and repeat the oath.

"I swear by Almighty God
that the evidence I shall give"

"shall be the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth."

- Your name?
- André Etienne Latour.

- Your age?
- Thirty.

You were born, I believe,
in Montreal, Canada.

And you served in the war
with Colonel Paradine?

Yes, sir. I was his manservant
before the war.

And later I had the honor
of serving under his command.

You won the Distinguished
Conduct Medal and Bar

for gallantry in the field?

That is so, sir.

At the time of Colonel Paradine's death,

you were again employed as his valet
and confidential companion?

Yes, sir.

Speak up, Latour,
so that we can all hear you.

You were very much attached
to Colonel Paradine, were you not?

He was the best man
I ever knew in all my life.

Very well, then. At about 8:00,
you heard the bell ringing violently.

You went upstairs to the Colonel's room.

You saw the Colonel and Mrs. Paradine
facing each other.

What happened then?

He looked at me for a minute
in his blind way,

and then burst out with it.

Try to give us his exact words.

He said,

"Do I understand
you're going to leave me?"

"Now when I need you most?"

I asked him who told him such a thing.

He said,

"She did."

Did he say anything else?

He was very angry.
He used strong language.

- Had you any intention of leaving him?
- No, sir.

Do you know of any reason

why Mrs. Paradine should have told
her husband that you were leaving him?

She wanted to get rid of me.

You told us yesterday that when
you went back up to see the Colonel,

you saw Mrs. Paradine in the hallway
outside the bedroom.

- You're certain of that?
- Yes, sir.

Where is that plan?

I have here a plan of the house.

The upper floor.

Is it your impression
that the lady was passing directly

from Colonel Paradine's bedroom
to her own?

Yes, sir.

Thank you.
That will be all, for the time being.

Latour lied like mad about the quarrel.
He's keeping something back.

Does the name of Margaret Wells
convey anything to you?

Yes, sir.

What does that name
convey to you?

I must try to help your memory.

I put it to you that some years ago

you were engaged to Margaret Wells
of Three Rivers, Quebec.

That on your wedding day
she left you at the church door

and went off with a saddler
named Richard Truton.

That is finished. That is in the past.

Your question may be relevant, Mr. Keane.
Its relevance escapes me.

My Lord, I submit
that the witness has shown

in his evidence and also in his behavior,
an almost pathological bias

against not only my client,
but against all women.

I may be stupid, but I fail to understand
what this jilting has to do with the case.

After seeing the witness,
and observing his appearance and bearing

I should be inclined to regard
the young lady's conduct as pathological,

not his.

Silence.

Proceed to your next question.

Very good, My Lord, if I'm not to be
allowed to show one of the reasons

for the witness' hostile attitude
towards my client.

Were you aware
that Colonel Paradine made a will,

in which he bequeathed you
the sum of £3,500?

Come, come. It's a simple question of fact.

Colonel Paradine told me
he might leave me a little something.

But I didn't know about the will, sir.

You mean he told you
he was going to leave you this legacy

- but you doubted his word?
- No, sir. I did not doubt his word.

- Then you believed it.
- Yes, sir.

Believing it, then you knew and believed

that you would receive
such a legacy on his death?

Please answer the question.

I don't know what you ask.

You are being asked if you knew
that you were to inherit £3,500

from Colonel Paradine,
if and when he died.

We never discussed it.
I didn't think about it.

Yes, I knew.

You don't remember very easily,
do you, Latour?

Now, please think carefully
before you reply to this.

And remember that you are on your oath.

When you were in London,

did you or did you not
repeatedly hear Colonel Paradine say

that he wished to be dead?

That he wished he was dead, sir?

That he wished to be dead.

André Latour, on your solemn oath,

do you deny having heard Colonel
Paradine say again and again to you

and in your hearing

that he was sick of life,
and wished to be dead?

He said a lot of things when he was angry
about his blindness.

I got so accustomed to them
I didn't take much notice.

You didn't take much notice?

You did not take much notice.

Very well.

Would you tell the court, please,
exactly what happened along about

8:00 on the evening of May 6?

You mean you want me
to go over my evidence again?

No, Latour, I do not want you
to go over your evidence again.

But did you not stand in that box
and swear by Almighty God

as you shall stand before Him
on the great day of judgment

that you would tell the truth,
the whole truth,

- and nothing but the truth? Did you?
- Yes, sir.

Very well, I put it to you
that your evidence was a tissue of lies.

I put it you that you were trying
to cover up what really happened.

There is another person in this court
who was there

who knew what happened.
Remember that.

Mr. Keane, what is your question?

Do you still wish to allege

that Mrs. Paradine invented
a cock-and-bull story

about your leaving the Colonel's service,
and that this precipitated the quarrel?

Yes, sir, she did.

It would be her word
against yours now.

Yes, sir. So it was then,
with the Colonel.

You are then asking His Lordship
and the jury to believe

that after years of devoted service,
in the field and in the sick chamber,

that you were in this position, that
Colonel Paradine had absolutely no faith

in your word of honor?

I put it you, Latour,
that your story is a pack of lies.

Do you persist in it?

If she says the contrary, she'd better...

What was that you started to say?

Answer the question.

I stick to what I said.

If you don't mind, Latour, I should like
to go over that night with you again,

in case any small incidents
have slipped your memory.

After the butler Lakin
took the Colonel his dinner,

where were you?

In my room.

Did he tell you about putting the glass
of burgundy at the Colonel's bedside?

Yes.

Was that or was that not unusual?

Maybe so.

No maybe about it.
Was it or wasn't it?

It was, sir.

And after he'd told you this,

- then you went upstairs again?
- Yes.

Why?

I had no special reason, sir.

Shortly before, the Colonel
had denounced you in strong language

for deserting him.

And yet you went upstairs
for "no special reason"?

I was unhappy about being on bad terms
with him.

What's that? Speak up.
The jury can't hear you.

I wanted to make it up with the Colonel.

Very well.

You knocked at the Colonel's door
and went in.

I knocked on his door, I did not go in.

Very well, you knocked.
And what happened then?

The Colonel told me to go away.

He told you to go away?

- Without even knowing who was knocking.
- No, sir. No.

He asked who it was. And I told him.

Then he told me to go away.

You're very sharp, Latour.

Tell me, what manner of tone
did the Colonel use?

- Sir?
- When he told you to go.

To get away from him.

My Lord, when Latour gave
his evidence in chief

the words used by him were,
"The Colonel told me to go away."

Not, "Get away from me."

"Go away," "Get away from me,"
what's the difference?

My learned friend
is sufficient of an artist

to appreciate the difference
in shades of meaning.

I prefer that he be accurate
in these matters.

It's a point of no importance.
Make it "go away," if you like.

Mr. Keane, one moment, please.

Counsel for the Crown
is right in his contention.

I agree you should be more careful.

If Your Lordship pleases,
I'll continue the cross examination.

Latour, you used to help the Colonel
get to bed,

- did you not?
- Yes, sir.

Quite a complicated matter,
getting a blind man to bed.

Didn't everything
have to be made ready?

His toothbrush, his pyjamas,
hot water bottle?

Yes, sir.

Yet you did not enter the room.

Not even to see that Lakin had put
the glass of burgundy in the right place

where the Colonel wouldn't knock it over
by mistake when reaching for it?

I wasn't thinking about the burgundy.

Very well.

You were wondering what to do
to make it up with the Colonel

and you were very much upset.
Is that putting it fairly?

Yes, sir, I think so.

You have stated that
you saw someone else in the hall.

Yes, sir. Mrs. Paradine.

- And what was she doing?
- Going into her bedroom.

Mrs. Paradine's bedroom
was directly across the hall

from the Colonel's bedroom.

- Is that correct?
- Yes, sir.

At the moment
when you saw Mrs. Paradine,

had you the remotest idea
where she'd come from?

No, sir.

She might even have come out
from her room,

seen you,
and turned to go back in again.

It is possible.

But she could not have come out
from the Colonel's room

without going around you.

Or through you.

Is that correct?

Yes, sir.

Now, you saw Mrs. Paradine
go into her room and shut the door.

What did you do then?

Nothing. I hung about
for a minute or two...

What was your purpose in hanging about
"for a minute or two"?

I didn't have any purpose, sir. I just...

I just didn't know what to do.
Then I decided to go downstairs.

Tell me, Latour,

have you ever seen anyone die by poison?

No, sir.

Or any animal?

No, sir.

Wasn't there an old dog put away
by poison at Hindley about two years ago?

Yes, sir. I beg your pardon, sir,
I almost forgot.

Yes, so we noticed.

It was killed by poison, wasn't it?

Yes, sir.

It was the Colonel's old hunting dog.
He was sick.

So we put him away. You see...

You mean, you put him away.

Yes, sir.

And what poison did you use?

- I don't know, sir.
- You don't know?

- Did you keep any of it?
- No, sir.

- We got the single dose from the vet...
- Don't keep on saying "we."

- You mean, you did?
- Yes, sir.

It wasn't a big dose?

No, sir. Very small.

And it acted very quickly.

Yes, it did.

I understand what you mean to say.

He's accusing me of poisoning my Colonel.
But I didn't! I didn't!

I must ask the witness
to collect himself...

But it's not true, I tell you.

I didn't do it. How could I?

I must again caution the witness

to confine himself
to answering questions.

He is not on trial.

It is quite unnecessary for him
to make protestations of innocence

concerning actions
with which he has not been charged.

And I think, Mr. Keane, this will be
a convenient opportunity to adjourn.

We will resume at 2:05.

I swear by Almighty God
that I shall well and truly keep this jury

in some private and convenient place

with such accommodation
as the court shall direct.

I will not suffer any person
to speak to them,

neither will I speak to them myself
touching the trial held here this day,

unless it be to ask them
if they are agreed upon their verdict,

without leave of the court.

Tony.

Keane. Keane!

Keane.

- Tony's torn him to pieces.
- It was horrible.

But, darling,
you've got to remember it's Tony's job.

Well, it's gone well for us this morning.
Really well.

Has it?

- Surely you must know that.
- I am not a lawyer.

Good heavens,
you're a clever woman.

Don't you realize
how I shook him?

You have not kept faith with me.

What do you mean?

I did not agree
to what you have done today.

I objected when you wanted
to make it appear

that André had helped my husband
kill himself.

I objected even to that.

And now you make him out
to be a murderer.

No, I will not forgive you
for what you have done today.

Forgive me?

When I have exhausted myself

destroying everything
in an effort to save you?

I did not ask you to do that.

Forgive me? You forgive me?

I was idiot enough
to fall in love with you.

Do you hear that?

If it's true, how could you deceive me
as you've done today?

Look.

The case has narrowed itself down to this,
one of three things:

Either your husband managed somehow
to poison himself,

or Latour did it,

- or you did it.
- As you like.

But I will not
have you making André a murderer.

Are you in love with him?

What has that to do with it?
You're my lawyer, not my lover.

Yes.

Someone else said something
very like that to me recently.

I should like to know whether you intend
to continue with the case.

Yes, of course. I am planning to cut out
all the witnesses except you.

I'm going to rely on your evidence
and my final speech to save you.

I know I can trust you.

I feel it.

Yes, you can trust me.

You will save me.

But not at his expense.

You understand that, don't you?

I suppose that's the only way
to save you.

You are not to destroy him.

If you do,

I shall hate you
as I've never hated a man.

I must go on the way I've begun.
I must act according to my own view.

You can do what you like.
I'm not finished with Latour yet.

After that, I shall put you into the box.
You can say what you like there.

My questions will be mine,
your answers yours.

Now, Latour,

you remember your evidence,

during the quarrel, the Colonel
used strong language with you?

- Yes, sir.
- Did he discharge you?

I... I didn't know what...

I didn't know what to think.

It was all a lie she told
about my leaving...

Yes, yes, we've heard about that.

Did you assume
that you were discharged?

Yes, sir. I suppose so.

Aren't you aware that Mrs. Paradine
is the mistress of Hindley Hall?

Yes, sir.

Let me review things for you, Latour.

You supposed that
you were discharged by the Colonel,

yet you continued in the employ
of the woman

who allegedly lied about you
to your master?

Well, answer me, Latour.

I think I wanted to help take care
of the Colonel's estate.

- There was nowhere else to go, so...
- Yes, yes.

Do I understand, Latour,

that after the quarrel
on the night of May 6th

you never again saw
Colonel Paradine alive?

- Yes, sir.
- But you did see him dead.

Yes, sir.

When?

After Dr. Young left,
I was told to clean up the room.

Who gave you these instructions?

She did.

Whom do you mean by "she"?

Mrs. Paradine.

While you were cleaning up the room,

did you notice the wine glass?

Yes, sir.

Did it still contain the burgundy?

There were only a few drops
in the bottom of the glass.

You say there were a few drops left
in the bottom of the glass?

Yes, sir.

If you were told
that Dr. Young had examined the glass

after he had discovered
that Colonel Paradine was dead...

That he'd examined the glass
and found it to be clean,

that it had been washed and dried,
would you still hold to your statement

that there were a few drops of burgundy
remaining in the bottom of the glass?

Yes, sir.
I still say the same thing.

When did you wash
and dry that glass, Latour?

I never washed or dried that glass.
I never touched it.

I left it just where it was.

You stated that it was Mrs. Paradine
who sent you in to clean up the room?

- Yes, sir.
- That after she sent you into the room,

the glass of burgundy
was not yet washed?

Yes, sir.

Then it could not have been Mrs. Paradine
who washed the glass.

Really, My Lord, all this is most improper.

I simply must insist
these questions be kept within bounds.

Yes, I noticed that the learned counsel
was tending to make points

rather than ask questions.

But I was reluctant to interfere,
knowing how he resents interruption.

Latour, are you aware
of the penalties of perjury?

Answer me.

I've told the truth.

I put it to you, André Latour,

that Colonel Paradine had a reason
for his rage with you that fatal night.

A reason that had nothing to do
with the trumped-up story

that you've told in this court.

Was it at Hindley Hall or in London that
you first gave Mrs. Paradine occasion

to complain about your attentions?

It's not true. She never did.

And was she not at last forced
to go to her husband

and beg him to dismiss you
from his service?

I won't stand here
and listen to these filthy lies.

And was that, in fact,
the cause, and the only cause

of the terrible scene which took place
on the night of Colonel Paradine's death?

No, she can't say that.

The Colonel knew, didn't he?

He knew because she told him.
Isn't that the truth?

- Answer the question.
- I will not answer.

Why? Because you don't want to admit
that he trusted you and you betrayed him?

No, I did not.
She can't put it on me.

She has told you lies,
and I hate her.

Because she told her husband
about you?

No, she did not.
He found out.

Then you mean,

he heard you speaking improperly
to his wife?

Yes.

My Lord, I've finished with the witness.

I didn't want to tell about it.

I didn't want to hurt
his good name.

But you have spoken.

You and she.
Both of you.

So I, too, will speak now.

I am finished with the witness.

Oh, Tony.

It was she
who dragged us both down.

I hated every moment with her.

But God forgive me,

- I couldn't help myself...
- My Lord, this man is a confessed perjurer.

- Must the jury listen to this rubbish?
- Mr. Keane.

He's finally been forced
to tell the truth

and is now trying to involve my client
in his treachery.

Mr. Keane, might I remind you
that this is not the first time

that you have been responsible for an
over-emotional atmosphere in court?

I cannot blame the witness
for his behavior.

My Lord, with all respect,

I submit that a transcript
of this man's evidence

be sent
to the Director of Public Prosecutions

with a view to formulation of charges
of perjury,

which he certainly has committed.

And whether to such a charge
might not also be added

one of murder.

Mr. Keane, you seem anxious to usurp
the duties of the judge in this case.

Proceed, Sir Joseph.

Latour, in testifying as to what was heard
by Colonel Paradine,

are you implying that you engaged

in an adulterous relationship
with Mrs. Paradine?

Yes.

You know now what I did.

I can't live with the memory
of what I've done.

I'm afraid I must ask you
to bear with a few more questions.

Did you avoid the truth because
of your feelings about this woman?

Yes, I lied.

Because I didn't want the world to know
what she was.

His wife, my Colonel's wife.

And also because you cared for her?

I don't know how to say it.

I tried not to, but...

That is all, Latour.

My Lord, that concludes the case
for the prosecution.

Members of the jury,

the woman who is before you in the dock
is a foreigner,

friendless and alone in a strange country,

but a country that, thank heaven,

has always prided itself
on its passion for justice.

I had intended to call before you

numerous witnesses on her behalf

to speak of her character,

of her self-sacrifice,

a sacrifice made cheerfully

by a beautiful woman
while still fascinating and still young

in order to bring
the light of her affection

into the darkness
of a blinded man's life.

But after hearing the case for the Crown,
we find so little to rebut

that we have decided to call no witnesses,
members of the jury,

except the prisoner.

He hasn't lost his nerve,
I'll say that for him.

When she has been heard,

I'm confident the decision of the jury
will be "not guilty."

I will now ask the prisoner
to go into the box,

absolutely certain that when she leaves it

there will be nothing left of the stain
which the prosecution, as I hope to show,

has so recklessly and unjustifiably

sought to place upon her character.

I call the prisoner, Maddalena Paradine.

Hold the Testament
in your right hand and repeat the oath.

"I swear by Almighty God
that the evidence I shall give"

"shall be the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth."

If you wish, you may be seated
while giving your evidence.

No, thank you, My Lord.

What is your name?

Maddalena Anna Paradine.

And you're the widow
of Richard Patrick Irving Paradine?

I am.

What were your circumstances
when you married him?

I was very poor.
My life had been unpleasant

and unattractive.

Truthful, isn't she?

Very clever of Tony, you mean.
He's just disarming the other side.

Had you no fear of the thought
of spending your life with a blind man?

I thought it a splendid opportunity.

Opportunity?

Yes. I thought,
"I will be his eyes."

Did you find it difficult
to care for a blind man?

To take care of him?

No.

He was never unkind to you?

Sometimes. But I understood.

It was terrible for him being like that.

It was easy to forgive him.

On the night of your husband's death,

a quarrel took place at your London home
in your husband's room?

Yes.

Will you tell the jury, please,
what was the cause of that quarrel?

I had spoken to my husband
about his valet Latour.

I asked my husband
to find another place for him.

Why was that?

Answer the question.

I did not wish Latour to stay in the house.

And why didn't you wish Latour
to stay in the house?

I preferred that he shouldn't be there.

- But why?
- I did not like his manner with me.

And what was there in Latour's manner
that you disliked?

I thought it sometimes too familiar.

Will you please explain
exactly what you mean by that?

He took liberties.

Did he try to make love to you?

Please answer.

Did he try to make love to you?

Yes.

And you complained about it
to your husband?

I did.

Now, Mrs. Paradine,

you've heard Latour's version

of the quarrel in your husband's room
on the night of May 6.

What actually did happen when Latour
came into the room?

My husband swore at him and said,

"You have insulted my wife."

And what did Latour say to that?

He broke down and said...

He said that if my husband
would forgive him,

it would never happen again.

Then Latour's version of what took place
is completely untrue?

My Lord, I object. My learned
friend is once more deliberately

putting words
into the mouth of a witness.

I was merely asking a question.

The form was objectionable.

And I am anxious
not to intervene again, Mr. Keane.

Am I being clear?

Your Lordship always makes
his meaning perfectly clear.

Then kindly attend to my ruling

and do not let me have further cause
to repeat it.

I hope I shall always take note
of the ruling of a learned judge,

however much I may disagree with it.

Do not bandy words with me, Mr. Keane.

Kindly go on with your examination
of the witness.

Mrs. Paradine,
after your husband's death,

you sent Latour into the Colonel's room
to tidy it up?

Yes.

Was anyone with you
when you sent Latour into the room?

Dr. Young.

Was Dr. Young still with you
when Latour came out of the room?

Yes.

Have you heard of Dr. Young's deposition,
stating that after he left you

he went to your husband's room
and found the glass washed and dried?

I have heard that, yes.

So then, is it not true
that the only person

who could have washed
and dried that glass is Latour?

- My Lord...
- All right, all right.

Could anyone else have washed
and dried it?

I know what you are trying
to make me say.

You're trying to make people think

that André Latour killed my husband.

Silence.

I asked you whether anyone else
could have washed and dried the glass.

Yes.

What do you mean by yes?

I did.

It is my duty to warn you that
you have made a very serious admission.

Would you like to make
some explanation of it to the jury?

My Lord,

with the utmost respect, I...

I would like to request that...

I be given time to consider
this turn of events.

This piece of evidence
is entirely new to me.

Keane, it is getting rather late,
and we've had a very trying session.

Would it be convenient to you
if we adjourned now?

I would be greatly obliged
to Your Lordship.

Very well, we will adjourn
until tomorrow morning at 10:30.

Are you sure you won't
stay for dinner, Judy?

No, dear, I really can't.
I promised Father.

Good night, dear.

- Hello, Tony.
- Hello.

What the devil are you looking
so sad about?

Nothing.

I was there today.

- Was Gay with you?
- Yes.

- Was that your idea?
- Yes.

I suppose you'll have
your usual expert comment

to make on the conduct of the case.

Yes.

That will most certainly be helpful.

Precisely what I need at this moment.

- If she washed the wine glass...
- She didn't.

I hope the jury agrees with you.

She's trying to cover up
for that dirty swine.

If she did wash the glass,
it's because she knew he killed Paradine.

If I had access to her
while she's a witness,

I'd make her say so tonight.

Tony, you won't get angry
if I ask you something else, will you?

No. Will it make
any difference if I do?

Why are you hammering away
at that quarrel in the bedroom?

That's what made her say what she did.

All right, if you really want to know,
if your father wants to know,

it's because I want to get at the motive.
Latour's motive.

He was in love with her,
and he wanted to get rid of her husband.

What about your motive?

What do you mean?

Well.

You know, and I know, and Gay knows

why it is you think Latour's the murderer.

You wouldn't have handled her that way
in the box for any other reason.

You treated her as though
you were cross-examining

a witness for the prosecution.

- Now, look here...
- Oh, Tony. It's true, it's terribly true.

Somebody's got to show you.

You've got to save this woman,
for Gay's sake.

If you leave me alone,
perhaps I still can.

If you're left to your own devices,
I'll bet you one thing:

Mrs. Paradine will be done for,
and your career along with it.

If it weren't for Gay,

I wouldn't be so sure
that would be a very bad thing, either.

Good night.

My Lord,
I've finished with the witness.

That's funny.

- What do you mean?
- Nothing. I'll tell you about it later.

Mrs. Paradine, did you think
André Latour very handsome?

Of course not. He is a servant.

How could I consider him in that way?

These intentions on the part of Latour
had gone on for some time?

Yes.

Why did you wait until that night
to tell your husband about the matter?

I was ashamed.

Why should you be ashamed?
Was it your fault?

Of course not.

Then why be ashamed?

Was it your modesty that held you back?

Remembering your past,
would you say that?

My Lord, I protest
against that insinuation.

There's been nothing in the evidence
that reflects on the witness' past.

My Lord, there was no insinuation.

I merely tried to convey
that a lady of her,

to use her own words,
"unattractive past"

need hardly have refrained
from appealing to her own husband

on the score of maidenly modesty.

I must ask you, Mr. Keane,
not to interrupt counsel.

I will intervene if I see reason.

Proceed.

Now, I ask you on your oath,
Mrs. Paradine.

Did you not refrain
from complaining about Latour

because you were madly in love with him?

Madly in love with him?

And yet I went to my husband
and asked him to send Latour away?

Is that what you think?

Did you not finally succeed
in your objective

and induce this unfortunate man,
who worshipped his master,

to be false to his trust
and betray that master?

I deny that!

Now, Mrs. Paradine,
is it not the fact

that as soon as you discovered
Latour took no interest in women

you resolved to overcome
that indifference?

No.

Weren't you in love with Latour
all the time he lived at Hindley Hall?

No.

Were you not madly in love with him

all the time that he lived with you
in your house in London?

What you say is not true.

Is anything wrong, Sir Joseph?

My Lord, I'd like
to have an opportunity

to consider what bearing
this has on the case.

I've just been informed

that the witness, Latour,
has done away with himself.

André!

- That does it.
- Oh, Tony.

My Lord.

I submit that this
has great bearing on the case.

It's perfectly obvious
why the witness has committed suicide.

- It bears out my...
- I don't think so.

You recall that the witness himself said
something about not being able to live

with the knowledge
of having betrayed his beloved master.

I suggest that both counsel
recover their equanimity

and remember where they are.

The jury will disregard the statements
of both Sir Joseph and Mr. Keane

and all they've just heard.
None of that was evidence.

Mr. Keane, do you wish to apply
for an adjournment,

so that you may consider your position?

No, My Lord.

On further consideration,
I have no application.

I will, however, have my observations
to make to the jury in due course.

Yes, yes. Sir Joseph,
does this affect the prosecution

to the extent of asking
for an adjournment?

No, My Lord. I only regret
the court has been subjected

to this additional sensationalism.

Then proceed, Sir Joseph.

Mrs. Paradine,
you admitted yesterday that you

deliberately washed the glass
that contained

the poison which killed your husband.

Why did you wash that glass?

Answer my question.
Why did you wash that glass?

You must answer the question.

I'm sorry, I didn't hear.

Counsel has already repeated
the question once.

What does it matter now?

André's dead.

The man I love is dead.

I thought about it day and night

but I didn't know how.

I wanted to do it so that we could be free.

So that André and I could go away
and live together as we should.

But André wouldn't have me.

He and his honor.

I must warn you of the gravity
of the statements you are making.

André knew I killed the blind man.
André knew it.

I didn't tell him, but he knew it.

I think it quite unnecessary
to ask any further questions, My Lord.

Is there anything further
you wish to ask the witness, Mr. Keane?

Mrs. Paradine...

I have nothing more
to say to you, Mr. Keane.

I loved André Latour,

and you murdered him.

My life is finished.

It is you yourself
who have finished it.

My only comfort is the hatred
and contempt I feel for you.

My Lord,

members of the jury,

I've done my best.

This case

has already taken its heavy toll

in the life of Latour,

in its burden on you, and, indeed, on me.

I am more than ever conscious
of my shortcomings.

Everything that I have done
seems to have gone against my client.

But, members of the jury,

you must not confuse

my incompetence

with any of the issues of this trial.

Those are two questions apart.

Two questions quite apart.

Many things have become obscured
in this trial.

Many things have become obscured.

My Lord, I regret
that I can go on no longer.

I request Your Lordship's indulgence

to let my friend, Mr. Collins,
take over the conduct of this case.

Surprising how closely the convolutions
of a walnut

resemble those of the human brain.

I wish you hadn't refused,
I mean, forbidden me to,

of course, you were quite right,
to go to the trial today.

Your coughing, my dear,
might have distracted me.

It was important that I should concentrate
on Mr. Keane's performance.

Of course.

How I shall pray the verdict will be
not guilty.

Must I listen to more of your silly pity

- for every scoundrel, man or woman...
- I do pity her.

Who needs pity more than a woman
who's sinned?

You always forget that punishment
is part of the scheme.

An extremely necessary part of it.

Doesn't life punish us enough, Tommy?
Doesn't it?

Why should we hurt each other?
We've no right to be cruel.

If I'm certain of anything,
I'm certain of that.

You've knocked over a glass.

So I have.

Give it to me.

You've been talking even greater nonsense
than usual tonight, Sophie.

I'm afraid this trial has gotten
on your nerves.

- I suggest you go to bed.
- Yes, I will, Tommy.

I'm sorry.

That poor woman.
Couldn't you do something for her?

How dare you speak to one of His Majesty's
judges like that, silly woman?

The jury decides questions of guilt
or innocence.

I may be silly, Tommy, but I love you.

I've always loved you.

You must've known for years
how terrible it is to love a man who...

Tommy, when you were young,
you were kind.

You can't sit on that Bench and...

As long as I sit on that Bench,
my dear Sophie,

I shall continue to do my duty.

And I have performed a duty today.

The Paradine woman will be hanged
after three clear Sundays.

The next time you'll place your confidence
with more discretion.

I suppose I ought to get out of here.
I've kept you up late enough.

You're more than welcome.

But I do wish you'd at least telephone Gay.

She must be terribly worried.
Worried to death.

Worried for the fear I'll come home,
you mean. No.

The least I can do for Gay is to spare her

the boring job of standing by me.

Now listen to me, my boy.

You're not as wise about everything
as you may think.

And you mustn't despair.

If there's one thing I can't abide,
it's despairing.

What would you have me do?
Hope for a High Court judgeship?

Well, not for a while.

But all this talk about giving up the Bar
is just so much poppycock.

If I know anything about Gay, there's
nothing at all she wants at this moment...

Father.

Where is she?

Hello, Tony.

- Hello.
- What about having some breakfast?

Do you mind? Thanks.

But as a matter of fact,
I was just leaving.

Tony, you really shouldn't have
worried me like this.

I waited up till all hours.

I should've known
you'd be here with Simmy.

I was proud of you today.

Yes, I was.

Darling, it won't be easy.

There'll be those that laugh at you. Sneer.

And I don't think the newspapers
will be very kind.

The worst thing of all
is what I did to you.

Tony, the most important moment
in your life

wasn't when you discovered
what she was.

And it wasn't really even
when you had the courage

to stand up there before the whole world
and confess your own mistakes.

The most important moment...

Look at me, Tony.

The most important moment in your life
is now.

My husband is the most brilliant man
I've ever known.

You can throw away your career
and become a beachcomber

if that's what you want.

Maybe that's not such a bad idea.

Darling, don't you understand?

I want you back on the job
just as fast as ever you can.

And I hope you have a tough case.

Very tough,

so that

it will take the very best you have.

Winning every verdict you're after.
Convincing them.

There you go again, darling,
with all your fancy ideas about me.

Incidentally, darling,
you do need a shave.

-- English --