All language subtitles for Nothing But the Night (1973)

♪ Nine green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ Nine green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ And if one green bottle
should accidentally fall

♪ There'll be eight
green bottles hanging
on the wall

♪ Eight green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ Eight green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ And if one green bottle
should accidentally fall

♪ There'll be seven
green bottles hanging
on the wall

♪ Seven green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ Seven green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ And if one green bottle
should accidentally fall

♪ There'll be six
green bottles hanging
on the wall

♪ Six green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ Six green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ And if one green bottle... ♪

GIRL: Sing! Sing loud!

♪ There'll be five
green bottles hanging
on the wall

♪ Five green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ Five green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ And if one green bottle
should accidentally fall... ♪

Noisy little bastard kids.

♪ Four green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ Four green bottles
hanging on the wall

♪ And if one green bottle
should accidentally fall

♪ There'll be three
green bottles hanging
on the wall ♪

Fire, burning me,

burning like a torch.

The coach didn't catch fire.

She's still
under sedation, Doctor.

Fire, burning me!

-Burning like a torch!
-PETER: Must be her mind's way
of releasing

the trauma of the crash.

The wind, blowing the flames.

Red, the door is red.

Intriguing.

-Let me know as soon
as she wakes.
-Yes, Doctor.

Oh, I'm...
I'm sorry, Sir Mark.

That's all right.
I want a word with you
about Mary Valley,

the coach crash.

We were just discussing
that very subject.

This is Colonel Bingham,

Peter Haynes.

-Hello.
-How do you do?

Is the child progressing well?

Physically, yes.

Then what's your problem?

I want to keep her in.

But you can't, unless you have
a very good reason.

Well, there's something very
wrong, something more than
minor abrasions and shock.

She needs psychotherapy.

If her orphanage insists
on her going back there,

then we must let her.
Officially, she's in
their care.

But they must be concerned
about the coach crash.

I think she can help us
find out how it happened.

-You want me to back
your request?
-Well, they'll listen to you.

I can't commit myself
without knowing all the facts.

Then come and see her!

Please.

Very well. Later.

Thank you, sir.

You haven't told me yet
why you're so interested

in the accidental death
of a coach driver.

I may be semiretired,
but I have my reasons.

You still miss your work?

This isn't just
a police matter, Mark.
This is personal.

I don't see how.

Mark, you've heard
of the Van Traylen fellowship.

A highly charitable
organization.

The coach was returning
to the airport from
an outing in London

arranged for the children
of the Van Traylen orphanage.

-A very fortunate escape.
-Not for the driver.

They might all
have been killed.

That was precisely
the intention.

A coachload of children?

I can't believe that.

The children were incidental.

What?

They were accompanied
by three illustrious
and very rich trustees

of the Van Traylen trust.

Who would want to kill them?

During the past nine months,

three trustees have died.

Something here I'd like you
to have a look at.

Naureen Stokes,
extremely successful novelist,

drove her car over a cliff
on a road that she knew
like the back of her hand.

Paul Anderson, textile tycoon.
We worked together

during the war in
military intelligence.
Fell off a top-floor balcony.

-Suicide?
-He was recuperating from a
prostate gland operation.

Hardly the end of the world.
Helen Van Traylen.

Blew out her brains
apparently.

But you don't think she did.

Suicide needs a motive, Mark.

Helen Van Traylen created
the trust and the orphanage.

She was devoted
to the children there.
She was also immensely rich.

All her money and
the full estate
of the other two

is willed to
the Van Traylen trust.

If those three trustees
had died in that
coach last night,

the trust would have
been 5 million pounds richer.

And you think
someone couldn't wait
for natural causes.

-I can prove it,
with your help.
-That's police territory.

I can get temporary
reinstatement with
full authority.

You won't find it easy
persuading the home office
to do that.

Oh, they'll listen to me
and evidence from you,

and they know
of my association
with Paul Anderson.

I want this case.

-Why?
-Paul Anderson was
a very great friend of mine.

Those deaths are
connected, Mark.
I'm sure of it.

You've got my kid here.
Where is she?

Could I have the name, please?

Harb, Anna Harb.
And the kid's name's Mary.

Harb, Mary Harb.

Sorry, madam,
no one of that name here.

But I tell you she's here.

You sure you've come
to the right place, madam?

Look, If you think I'm
leaving here without
seeing my kid, mate,

-you're mistaken!
-Here, just a minute.

Stop her!

-Come along now.
-Let go of me!

I want my girl!
You've got no right to keep...

Let me go, you pigs!
How dare you!

Find out what you can.

Please.

ANNA: You bloody porter,
get out of it!

Take your hands off me!
I want my girl!

You've no right to keep me...

-What's all the fuss about?
-I don't know.

Sorry about that, gentlemen.

Person of the name
of Mrs. Harb claimed
we got her...

-Did you say "Harb"?
-That's right, sir.

-She's the girl's mother.
-How do you know that?

Mary told me.
The trustees had her name
changed from Harb.

It's about a missing kid.

WOMAN: Putting you through.

WOMAN 2: News desk.

I want to report
a stolen child.

Can you give me
some details, please?

Well, of course I bloody can.

She's my kid
and I want her back.

Can I have your name
and address, please?

ANNA: It was your newspaper
that first revealed it
to me, you see?

-Sugar?
-No, thanks.

I recognized her straightaway
from the photograph.

Poor little Mary.

-You've gotta help me
to get her back.

-I can't promise
we'll print the story.
-You will.

Mrs. Harb, plenty of cases
like yours.

But Mary's different.

She's my daughter.
I've gotta help her.

Help her?

She's gotta be better off
where she is than here.

Think you know it all,
don't you?

Look, I'm her mother.

They've got no right
to steal her from me.
She's mine.

Sorry, Mrs. Harb.
It's not enough.

Like my editor said,

what's so special
about Anna Harb?

You tight little hustler.

I don't
like being conned.

What do you mean?

I know about you.

10 years, Broadmoor,
triple killing.

That's why they took
your Mary away.

Yes, I'll hold on.

When I said I'd back you,
I hardly expected you
to go this far.

-I had to have time.
-You had no authority

to hold Mary Valley back
against the wishes of those
responsible for her.

-Well, how else
can I help her?
-Hello?

Lord Fawnlee, good afternoon.

My name is Ashley.

That is correct.

Sir Mark, I was speaking

with a Dr. Haynes
earlier today,

a rather overzealous
young man.

MARK: Oh, yes,
he's the psychiatrist
on Mary's case.

The medical reports
we received spoke only

of slight abrasions and shock.

Dr. Haynes apparently
requires Mary

to undergo fresh tests
and observation.

Is all that really necessary?

I'm sure Dr. Haynes
is only acting in
the best interests

of his patient, Lord Fawnlee.

FAWNLEE: We quite appreciate
his concern.

But the medical facilities
at our orphanage are

of the highest order,
I assure you.

The degree of shock is,
of course, an unknown
quantity.

We're fully equipped to deal
with that sort of thing.

So on the assumption
that Mary will be perfectly
well able to travel...

MARK: Lord Fawnlee,
that recommendation
hasn't been made yet.

Nevertheless,
it will be made, Sir Mark.

So we will arrange
for Mary to be brought back

to the orphanage
as quickly as possible.

But there are
certain formalities.

They will be dealt with.

-FAWNLEE: Goodbye, Sir Mark.

I dislike being
put in my place,

for you or anyone else.

Thank you, sir,
for holding them off.

Don't push your luck, Peter!

My job is to run a path lab,

not stick my neck
out on your account.

But it isn't just for me here.

That child needs help.

The trustees simply
don't understand.

Can you blame them?
She's apparently fit and well.

Physically, yes.

I'm glad you admit it.

And just remember,
she's not here as
a subject for experiment,

or to satisfy your ego.

Now look, I don't care
about myself.

That's painfully obvious.

You seem only too happy to put
your reputation on the block,
and mine as well.

Once you're committed,
you've got to stick
your neck out.

You don't need to remind me
of your past record
in that respect.

I'm just telling you,

I've backed you far enough.

But I've only just
started to get somewhere.

Peter, there are some journeys

we have to make alone.

You said you'd
come and observe
the hypnosis session.

-And what would that achieve?
-Once you've witnessed that,

I'm sure you'll
see it as I do.

You'll be committed too.

Hmm, yeah.

Thank you.

The dean is lecturing
in the States apparently.

And the chairman
of the board of governors
is with a minister.

-Your parish, I think.
-Mmm.

Leave it to me.

The minister
always had a soft spot

for the Van Traylen trust.

-Or to make this chap
Haynes more amenable, eh?

MARK: The postmortem
on the coach driver.

-Anything in particular?
-Burns on the face.

Left-hand side.
Quite inexplicable.

Caused by the crash,
I suppose.

The coach didn't catch fire,

and these burns are
localized anyway.

Pity the driver didn't
live long enough to talk.

There is a possible
eyewitness. Mary Valley.

Haynes seems to think
she can tell us something.

I don't see her as being
exactly reliable

in her present state, do you?

-I'm not in any mood to judge.
-Do what you can.

Oh, for heaven's sake,
Charles!

I get pressure from you
and from Haynes
and from the trustees!

Mark,

if she does know something...

Very well.
I will go to his hypnosis
session with the girl

-and ring you if there's
anything of interest.
-Thanks.

And after that,
I wash my hands
of the whole affair.

Dr. Yeats,
I have met Anna Harb.

She's cheap. She's common.

She has a record
of violence, but she
Mary's mother.

My dear young lady,
we don't deny that.

But you're using
your legal rights
as trustees of Mary

to deny a basic
flesh-and-blood relationship.

YEATS: Our concern is
for the child.

And from what you've told us,
it's quite clear to me

that Mary is far better off
in our care.

FAWNLEE: Mary's such
a sweet child.

Have you met her yet,
Miss Foster?

No, Lord Fawnlee, not yet.

You'll forgive my asking
I know, Miss Foster,

but did Mrs. Harb contact you
in the first place?

Or was it
the other way around?

Dr. Yeats, we don't
invent the news.
We only report it.

FAWNLEE: Impartially,
of course...

Without making any attempt
to stir things up?

Is there anything to stir up,
Lord Fawnlee?

No, there is not.

Not even the brutal denial
of a mother's rights?

Miss Foster, this woman
is a common prostitute
and murderer.

You admit as much yourself.

She paid for what she did
with 10 years of her life.

Now she is entitled
to a second chance.

Why do you think
her child was taken

into official care
and protection

before coming to us?

To twist a cliche,
Miss Foster,

would you let
Anna Harb be a mother
to your daughter?

Will you allow her
to prove her case
in a court of law?

I think you'll find
all the legal aspects

have been properly
dealt with, Miss Foster.

We're checking
into that, Lord Fawnlee.

I presume that means
your paper is prepared
to pay legal costs

in return for Mrs. Harb's
exclusive heartrending story.

Of course. Somebody has to.

Even if it means
inventing rights

no one even dreamt
of before you came along?

I didn't invent motherhood,
Dr. Yeats.

Look, will you allow her
to see the child?

No, we can't allow that,
I'm afraid.

Mary must not be disturbed.

PETER: Mary.

Can you hear me, Mary?

Mary.

-Can you hear me, Mary?
-Yes, Dr. Haynes.

Open your eyes.

I want to talk to Mary.

I want you to tell me
about the fire.

No, I don't want to talk
about it, please.

PETER: I'm trying to
help you, Mary.

No, I don't want the fire.

PETER: Where did it start?

In the wooden hut,

the wind. The wind changed,

and the flames spread
so quickly...

-Go on.
-Across the knocking pen,
and the steers stampeded.

Oh, I don't want to remember
anymore, please.

-You must, Mary.
-But I don't want
to go back there.

Try to remember what happened.

The door, it's locked.

I can smell burning rubber.

The door is red,
bright red and so hot.

The room, what can
you see in the room?

There's a scattergun

on the wall and a safe.

A safe?

-Is there a name on it?
-Yes.

-Read it, Mary.
-The Neatsville
Corporation, Detroit.

Go on, Mary.
What can you feel?

It was so cool at first.

I was all right,
safe from the flames
and the steers

and the screaming,
but the fire came
faster and faster.

The door is red,
bright red, and my
body's burning.

Why don't the men
come and help me?

Oh, help me! Please help me!

-Help me!
-It's all right, Mary.

It's all over now.
It's all right!

When I snap my fingers,

you will wake up
and remember nothing.

Are you my new doctor?
Can I go home soon?

You mean to Inver House, Mary?

Yes, that's right.
Have you ever been there?
It's a wonderful place.

Dr. Haynes, there's
someone to see you.

Thank you.

Tell Dr. Ashley
all about Inver House

and your friends there.
Won't be long.

-Do you know where
Inver House is?
-No.

It's in Scotland
on the island of Bala,
hundreds of miles away.

I'm sorry, Miss Foster.
I'm not making any
statements to the press.

Is that what the
Van Traylen people
told you to say?

It's the policy
of the hospital.

Is it also your policy
to refuse a mother's rights
to see her child?

Mrs. Harb.

You know her?

No, but I'd like
to speak to her.

-Do you know where she is?
-Why do you want to know?

I need her help.
Please tell me where she is.

I can't do that.

But I can arrange a meeting.

-For the three of us?
-When?

This afternoon?
I'll be in touch. Bye.

Auntie Helen
was very nice to me,

but she died.

She said Mary Valley
was a prettier name
than Mary Harb.

-Do you think so?
-I think it is...

Mary, would you like
to meet your real mommy?

When can I go back
to Inver House?

You see,
I was ill last winter,

so we're having
a Guy Fawkes Night
on my birthday next week.

-Hello.
-Hi.

I'm sorry I'm late.

No, you're 10 minutes early.

Exactly where are we going?

To Anna Harb's flat.
She lives just
across the road.

What's wrong
with being early then?

Look, Dr. Haynes,
we play it my way or we
don't play it at all.

-Then try to play it
straight, that's all.
-What else?

Now look, I know it's your job
to get a story,

but it's my job
to make that child well.

And that to me is
the only important thing.

Let's have some tea.

-Must be somewhere
in the market.
-Mmm.

So you think
the shock treatment
would help?

Seeing her mother could
trigger an emotional release

and break her nightmare.

Do you know anything
at all about Anna Harb?

Only that she's Mary's mother.

Thank you, Paula. Ah.

Tea, please, love.

Sorry, mate.

-Uh, tea or coffee?
-Thanks.

-Uh, tea, please.
-Two teas, please.

This... This nightmare,

is it violent?

It relates to
something violent, yes.

-Why?
-Well, Anna Harb was
in Broadmoor for murder.

She had Mary
while she was working
as a prostitute.

Well, why do you
tell me that now?

I thought you ought to know.

Thank you very much.

Would you like
to change your mind
about this meeting?

No, I wouldn't.

-It's all right. Sugar?
-No, thanks.

Have you got any ideas
about heredity

or genetics?

I thought your angle
was the human anguish

of mother and child
torn apart.

Always open to variations
on a theme, Doctor.

A bloodline of depravity?
It won't wash.

Maybe not scientifically,
but it makes great reading.

Oh, I see. The higher realms
of modern journalism.

That's how I make my bread.

Besides, we both know
you're taking a terrible
risk with that little girl.

The meeting will take place
under controlled conditions
in the hospital.

There will be little
or no risk.

And it won't happen
unless I'm certain
that Anna Harb

is completely genuine.

All I want is
an exclusive interview
after they've met.

With the mother,
not the child,
and outside the hospital.

Why, you afraid
I'm gonna make waves?

Anna Harb can
take care of herself.
The child can't.

She's my responsibility
and nothing must go wrong.

Yes, Doctor.

Never burned or scalded,

not all the time
she was with me.

I was a good mother.

JOAN: But she was taken
away from you when
she was seven years old.

Yeah, I was on the game,
wasn't I?

That and the 10 years
in Broadmoor.

-Mind you, that's before
Mary ever happened.
-It still counts.

Why should it?
I've still got a right
to my own child.

You're positive
she was never involved
in any sort of fire?

I told you, didn't I?

Look, why don't you ask
them trustees?

They're the ones
that have had my Mary
these past three years.

And they've taken
very good care of her.

Is that why she's
sick in the head?

Look, It isn't me that's
had her bottled up
on that bloody island.

Just because they're stinking
rich, they think they can
get away with anything

and to hell with
the likes of me.

Well, I'll show them.
I'm gonna teach
them different.

The Van Traylen trust
is a responsible
organization, Mrs. Harb.

Don't you come that with me.

It's their doctors
that took Mary.

And it's doctors like you
that put me inside,

so don't you come that
with me, mister.

Now, Dr. Haynes is trying
to help Mary.

Then make them give
her back to me.

I'm sorry. I have no authority
to do that.

I swear to you,
she'll come to no harm.

She's in trouble
and I can save her. I know it.

How can you tell?
See it in your crystal ball?

It's in me.

And in Mary.

Deeper than you'll ever know.

That's why she's gotta
be back with me.

I can't promise that,

but I can arrange
for you to see her
at the hospital.

Do that and you'll be
forever blessed.

My hope is that
you can help me
break her nightmare.

I'd do anything to help her.
I'd give my life for her.

But if you're lying to me,

if this is some kind
of trick...

I'll kill you.

Aren't you afraid
I'll dirty up your
antiseptic world?

I don't remember objecting.

Besides, you're involved too.

I'm only here for the story.

The dirt's a bonus.

-I'll do what I can.
-Thanks.

But my hospital files,

they're confidential,
I'm afraid.

Sure.

I'm being a rotten host.

What about a drink?

No, thanks.

Coffee?

Fine.

-Biscuits?
- No, thanks.

-All your sexy books.
-Yes.

-They're mostly technical.
-Mmm.

-Peter?
-Yeah.

Is Mary Valley in danger?

These symptoms
are always serious,

especially in a child.

What's your diagnosis?

I'm not sure yet.

But I must explain her morbid
fascination for fire.

A nightmare about a blaze

where she practically feels
she's being burnt alive,

as though she were
a totally different person.

I'm sorry the coffee's
taking so long.

It's all right.

I'm in no hurry.

After you.

Does Haynes know that
we intend to visit the child?

Not yet. He's usually with her
this time of the morning.

No, no, no, don't touch me!
No, get off!

-You devil!
-Leave me alone, no!

No, no, no, leave me alone!

Leave her alone.
Anna, are you mad?

-Leave her alone!
-No, no, no!

-I'll bloody murder you!
-Leave me alone!

I'll make you wish
you'd never been born.

-I'll bloody murder you.
-No, no!

-You devil!
-JOAN: Anna!

-No, no, no!
-JOAN: Anna, leave her alone.

All right, have her!

I'll make you pay
for what you've done to her.

-Is she all right?
-What is it?

Bastards, I'll kill them
for what they've done to her.

I'll show them!

If they think they
can start pushing me around

with all their bloody money,
they're mistaken.

-There, there, Mary,
don't cry.

Nurse will look after you.

-Put her in the private ward
and stay with her, please.
-Yes, Sir Mark.

-And who are you?
-Joan Foster, Daily Echo .

So you're responsible
for bringing that
lunatic in here?

I'm sorry to disappoint
you, gentlemen,

but the meeting was
arranged by Dr. Haynes.

Where is he?

He wanted Mary
to meet her mother.

Well, it's not
a criminal offense.
He's in the ward.

That young man needs
a lesson in responsibility.

Peter!

Peter.

Are you pleased to be back
in the seat of power?

It was inevitable.

Once the home secretary
knew of the circumstances
of Haynes's death.

Oh, yes, here's the path
report you wanted.

Oh, thank you. Oh, by the way,
Foster's statement

to the police confirmed
that the hatpin belonged
to Anna Harb.

You think she's connected
with the other deaths,
don't you?

According to Foster, that
woman hated anybody who came
between her and the child.

Even Haynes,

who wanted to help.

Most of all, the trustees.

And all the deaths
have occurred since
Mary Valley

was taken into
the Van Traylen orphanage
on the island of Bala.

They've taken her back.

-They should be
on their way now.

She ought to be as
safe there as anywhere.

Sister, how are you?

-Oh, Mrs. Alison,
I'm so happy to be back again.
-Oh, it's lovely to see you.

Come on now.

MARY: Fire, fire.

Bodies burning.

Vincent, where are you?
Vincent, help me!

PETER: Mary, what happened
to Vincent?

MARY: He died.

I loved him,

but it was my fault he died.

Poor, poor Vincent.

MAN: "Related deaths,

"Naureen Stokes,
Paul Anderson,
Helen Van Traylen.

"Common factors,
all victims suffered

"mutilating injuries
to the head.

"All deaths could be
accidental or self-inflicted."

-BINGHAM: I was right.
-MARK: Yes.

But what does it prove?

MAN: "All victims
without issue,
all effects bequeathed

"to Van Traylen trust.

"Unrelated deaths
do not conform,

"Victims Haynes
and driver of coach.

"For further analysis,
autopsy doctor required."

-That's all, sir.
-Thank you.

Accidental, self-inflicted

or murder.

And for what reasons?

Suppose the last
surviving trustee
inherits all the money.

The killings are too blatant.

The logical violence
of a vendetta.

-Involving Anna Harb?
-Not by herself, surely.

No.

No, I agree with you.
There must be someone else.

Are autopsy details
available on the three
dead trustees?

No, not yet.

I'll arrange for an
exhumation order immediately.

What about this then?

You must be joking.
It's a Rover 2000
we're looking for,

stolen from Glasgow.

What'll I do with this?
It's not been claimed.

Has it not?

Well, put it ashore,
and I'll check.

Okay.

I'm sorry, pet.
I didn't mean to startle you.

No, it's all right.
Really, Mrs. Alison.

-Just for a moment,
I thought...
-I know.

Now, I brought
you some hot milk
and a plate of biscuits.

You can have them
in here with me

before you go upstairs
to bed and get a good
night's sleep, eh?

Thank you very much.

What's this you're reading?

Woodstock by Walter Scott.

That's Cavaliers
and Roundheads.
Cromwell's time, isn't it?

Yes, it's a very interesting
period of history.

Oh, is it really?

You don't find this
too grown-up for you, hmm?

Grown-up?

Well, yes, a bit.
I found it on the table.

I was just glancing at it.

I expect it's Lord Fawnlee's.

It's rather his cup
of tea, isn't it?

That all right?

-Not too hot?
-Fine, thanks.

Reminds me of the hospital.

They used to give us
hot milk last thing at night.

Poor child.

You've had a dreadful time.

You heard,

everything that happened.

Yes, they told us.

That's why we insisted
you came home at once.

Tried to be brave,

tried to be grown-up about it.

My mother, she came
into the room.

She's like a strange animal.

I couldn't understand her.

I didn't know
what she was doing.

The doctor, he tried
to stop her.

There, there, my pet.
Don't think about it.

-Put it out of your mind.
-But I keep seeing her.

Keep seeing her coming for me.

She's not coming for you.
Don't be afraid.

-She might have
followed me here.
-No, don't worry.

-She's hundreds of miles
from this island.
-Are you sure?

Quite sure.

You must forget all about her.

You're quite safe
here with us,

just like you've always been.

Yes, I do feel safe here.

I wish you were my mother,
Mrs. Alison.

I've left her lying
on the sofa.

Poor child, she's completely
worn out.

How did she seem otherwise?

Remarkably composed
considering what
she's been through.

Even so, we must be prepared
for a delayed reaction.

Well, let's take her mind
off things.

It's her birthday tomorrow.

We must make it
a memorable one.

These are your credentials.
That's all you'll need.

Oh, thank you.

Now what happens
if the trustees
won't cooperate?

-They will.

Yes.

Thank you.

Well, I'll be in touch as soon
as I have something positive.

See you later.

-Mark!
-Yes?

A van registered
in the name of Anna Harb

has just been found
on the Lough Erne-Bala ferry.

-Then she's on the island.
-Exactly.

She must be heading
for Inver House.

But she'll never get there.

The estate's been sealed off
and the chief constable's

put himself personally
in charge.

How much have the trustees
been told?

Only that Anna Harb
is on the island.

We've gotta make sure
that she never reaches
the orphanage.

-I tell you that bloody
woman is never satisfied.

I thought that was
why you married her.

She must have
some spirit, though.

It's her mouth
I'm talking about.

-Maybe that's where you've
been going wrong.
-Ah, get away!

How long will it take us
to get there, Inspector?

A couple of hours, sir.
We'll be in plenty of time
for the press conference.

Arranged, I presume,
by Chief Constable Cameron.

Yes, sir. He's a great one
for keeping people informed.

Everyone except me apparently.

He likes keep the press happy,
you see, sir.

Stops them blowing up things
beyond all proportion.

Malcolm, you see this?

-What is it, Angus?
-Bloody vandals.

-What have they taken?
-Explosives.

-And these.
-Detonators.

-That's serious.
-I locked up last night.
You saw me.

Aye, we best report it then.

"Roadblocks have been
set up at key points
on the island

"and an intensive search
is being carried out

"for the woman known
as Anna Harb.

"We have reason to believe
that she might be able
to help us

"with our inquiries.

Oh, uh. "Further bulletins
will be issued

"as soon as information
becomes available."

Now any questions?

Chief Constable Cameron,

access to the island has
been strictly controlled.

Is this really necessary?

In the circumstances,
yes, it is.

We don't want tourists
and idle sightseers

making the job
of the police more
difficult, do we?

Does this mean that Bala
is officially cut off
from the outside world?

Accredited members
of the press will be
admitted, of course,

but we're asking you
to keep strictly to
the limits set.

The town of Bala
itself, that is.

Chief Constable,
what about Mary Valley?

-Miss...
-JOAN: Foster.

Miss Foster, well now,

Mary is safe and well,
I believe.

-But is she well protected?
-Of course she is.

Security arrangements
are in operation
at Inver House.

How many men would you
say that involved?

Oh, well, most of the island's
police force,

a perfectly adequate
number of men.

Would you say more than 10?

12, I would say.

Which leaves exactly
seven men and two dog handlers

-to conduct the intensive
search for Anna Harb.

Ah, well now, you know
your figures very well,
Miss Foster.

I'm surprised
you find them adequate.

Now look, we are doing
the best we can, woman.

-This way, sir.
-Thank you.

A deliberate attempt
to provoke an
emotional situation,

merely in order that
you can feed your grubby
little circulation figures.

Does that mean that
you refuse to admit
that Mary Valley...

-Is in danger
from this mad woman?
-I refuse to say nothing.

-Ah.
-Constable.

-Chief Constable.
-BINGHAM: Colonel Bingham.

-Thank goodness you've come.
-Sir Mark Ashley, Mr. Cameron.

-How do you do, sir?
-Finish it off quickly,
will you?

Yes, of course.

Well now, ladies
and gentlemen,

I have nothing further
to add at this stage.

Chief Constable, will you care
to brief us on the presence

of Colonel Bingham
and Sir Mark Ashley,
the eminent pathologist?

Are you on holiday, gentlemen?

Or may I presume
a call to duty?

Miss Foster, your undeniable
flair for bad taste

is only succeeding
in wasting everybody's
valuable time.

Colonel Bingham, is it not
true the home secretary's
ordered you

to take over this case?

Will Mary Valley be
taken into hiding, Colonel?

Does this mean
you'll be authorized
to use troops, sir?

As the chief constable
was about to say,

this press conference
is now ended.

-Everything all right?
-Aye, everything's
all right, sir.

Enjoying themselves.

That's it, you come
over here, darling.

Come on with me.

In the middle, love.
In the middle.

That's it, now catch.

That's it. Now come on,
take the ball in.

Come on, hurry up now.
Off you go.

Hey, well done, Sidney.

-You're as good
as the big boys.
-Yes, I am!

Hurry along, miss, please.

I'm sorry I didn't
bring my fishing...

Bala lies over there,

just round the headland.

Less than an hour away.

Blasted reporters.

They never let you
get on with your work.

-See, I want you
to drive me...

I specifically requested
a police launch,

and yet we have to
travel with this brood
of tabloid vultures.

They have their job
to do, I suppose.

May I quote that gem
of appreciation, sir Mark?

Still pursuing your story
to the bitter end,
Miss Foster?

I try to keep up
with the hounds, Colonel.

Well, you'll excuse me.

No comment, Miss Foster.

I don't want you to talk.

I want you to listen.

I don't know what
you have in mind.

But whatever it is,
I'm afraid I'm not interested.

Please.

I must explain to someone.

I know I'm to blame
for Peter Haynes's death.

I arranged the meeting
with Anna Harb.

-I have read your statement.
-Those were the facts.

I want to tell you

what I found out.

I liked Peter

a lot.

We...

Look, if I hadn't arranged
that meeting
with that crazy woman,

none of this
would have happened.

I want to help.

I know I can.

Colonel Bingham would
never understand what
I found out.

-BINGHAM: Mark.
-Yes?

Over here.

Isn't she a beauty?

CAMERON: She belongs
to the Van Traylen trustees.

-MARK: Really?
-It's their personal method
of transport

between the mainland and Bala.

Must be wonderful
for the children.

Oh, I think you'll find that's
typical of these people.

Generous to a fault.
Indeed, there are some locals

who try to take
advantage of the...

Yes.

No, I see.

Yeah, okay.

There were five trustees
on the boat, but no children.

Thank God for that
small mercy.

The first thing is to find out
how it happened.

-Was it sabotage?
-I have a theory about
the sabotage, sir.

Either a simple
timing device or even
a firing mechanism

activated by
the automatic changeover

-to the reserve fuel tanks.
-Makes sense.

There's also been
a reported theft
from a local quarry.

Dynamite and detonators.

-Why the hell
wasn't I told about it?
-It's just been reported, sir,

just before we arrived.

Then it's definitely sabotage.

We need evidence
of the explosion first.

GRANT: I have three
boats out now, sir,
collecting debris.

-Mark, you'll need
somewhere to work.
-I will.

Excuse me, sir, but I've
arranged for itemization
facilities at the quayside.

-Disused custom shed.
-Thank you.

GRANT: And our local GP,
a Dr. Knight,
is available if required.

-He's at the quayside now.
-I'll certainly need him.

It's not a pleasant job.
There'll be little enough
left of those on board.

-Got everything you want?
-As long as I have this,
I can manage.

There is some laboratory space
at the cottage hospital.

Sergeant.

Thank you again, Inspector.

If it was sabotage, it
needed specialist's knowledge.

Not difficult
to come by these days.

Five dead in one go.

Five more dead trustees.

Bala Police Station,
Inspector Grant.

Inspector Grant,

I want to report
a missing child.

It's a little boy.

No, we've searched
all the buildings, grounds.

He's gone.

His name is Sidney Wilson.

Yeah, seven years old.

Tall for his age.

Fair-haired,

and wears a dental brace.

Yeah.

Thank you, Mrs. Alison.
We'll be there as soon
as possible.

Did no one realize the danger
these children were in?

Police have been posted
at Inver House.

Not inside the house
or grounds, sir.

The trustees refuse
to have the children alarmed.

Chief Constable, I want
every available man
from the mainland.

Inspector, you will organize
local volunteers for a search.

-You will need at least
one helicopter.
-Sir.

You will allocate and brief
the advanced sections.

Would you also brief
the party when it arrives
from the mainland?

Inspector, you will set up
your control post outside
the main entrance

to Inver House.

Stay there and maintain
continuous radio contact.

I want every inch
of this island searched
before nightfall.

Thank you, Tango 4. Carry on.

Did you get that, Colonel?

BINGHAM: Yes, Grant.
Is Mr. Cameron with you?

He's gone into Inver House,

trying to talk them
into having a couple
of men inside the house.

Ask him to contact me
in 30 minutes, will you?

-I'll be at the quayside.
-I'll do that, sir.

It's for yourselves as well.

Chief Constable,
we must put the well-being
of the children first.

-Yes, two of my men
inside the house.
-It'll be very disturbing.

Police would immediately
mean that something is wrong.

But the constables
would be in plainclothes.

They would be strangers.

We know the children
and what is best for them.

It's sheer blind stubbornness!

No, Chief Constable,

-it's love.
-And you refuse?

-BOY 1: Look, get out!
-BOY 2: Stop pushing
me around.

BOY 1: Oh, yeah,
you're pushing me around.

Excuse me.

-What is it, young lady?
-You're a policeman,
aren't you?

-Am I now?
-Yes, I know you are.

Those are your men
waiting for you.

Well, what if they are?
What's your interest?

-What's yours?
-Eh?

What's your interest in us?

We're perfectly safe here.
We're not going to
be attacked.

Now who said anything
about being attacked?

ROSE: Mary, dear.

Run along now.
There's Dr. Rose wants you.

-Oh, please wait.
-No, no, you run along.

Mary.

Now if you could report
to me on that.

-Everything arranged, sir?
-They refuse to have us,
Grant. Not even one man.

-Sheer idiocy.
-The message from
Colonel Bingham, sir.

You're to meet him
in 30 minutes at the quayside.

Of course. The boat
with the reinforcements.

By God, we can do with 'em.

The locals have done
wonderfully well so far.

To the quayside.

Tell Bingham I'll be there.

-What were you saying
to that man, dear?
-The policeman?

What makes you think
he's a policeman?

He told me he was.

-Did he tell you what he
was doing here, Mary?
-No.

Shall I tell you?

-Would you like to know?
-Yes, please.

Sit down.

You know that big farm
on the other side
of the island?

Well, the farmer there has
had some of his sheep killed.

He's asked the police
to help find the culprit.

Some local dog, they think.

So, the policemen came
to interview Shelley.

-Do you think Shelley did it?

No.

Anyway, why do they want three
policemen to interview a dog?

Well, I'm telling you,
Donald, she's not here.

I know.

-All right with you, lad?
-Ah, good.

-Here we go.
-Mind that bank there.

-Hey.

-Hello, there.
-Cameron, sir.

Saw you from the road.
You're doing
a grand job, lads.

We appreciate you
saying so, sir.

We'll find them, never fear.
Thanks now.

They'll never find her.
You know that.

Aye, maybe, maybe.

There's still a boy, though.

Jamie, you know what kids are.
He'll be home for supper.

WOMAN: Come on, faster.
That's it, come on.

Hey! You're all very quick.

Well, at least death
was instantaneous.

Aye, I'll take this
to the laboratory
freezer right away

before postmortem
changes are too advanced.

Thanks.
I'll be over there later on.

Sir Mark,
I must talk with you.

Again, Miss Foster?

It was sabotage, wasn't it?

A press statement will be
issued by the chief constable
in due course.

-That will only tell me
what I already know.

Five more trustees died today.

Eight down, four to go.

Is Mary Valley well protected?

Colonel Bingham has
made adequate
security arrangements.

But he can't protect her
from the nightmares
in her mind.

How do you know about that?

A tape recording
made by Dr. Haynes.

I borrowed it.

-Do you intend
to exploit her too?
-Oh, no.

But we can use Peter's notes.

I see.
A posthumous bestseller.

Please believe me.

The tape recording,
it's really terrifying.

At least listen to it.

Even if I listen,
what good will it do?

Thanks very much.

I'll go back
to the hotel and get
the tape right away.

That's it. Pack up.

About time. It's a way home.

Yeah, that first one's
going to taste grand.

Aye, I can't wait.

-MAN: Glory!
-DONALD: Oh!

Hey, Donald...

I tell ya, we'll go down
to the inn tonight.

Aye.

We'll spin a couple of yarns
to those newspapermen.

About the ghost
of Black Douglas.

-Oh!
-Get up, you clumsy clod!

Ashley here.

The boy has been found dead.

But it's no ordinary murder.

He's been stabbed 32 times.

The wounds form
a definite pattern

all over the body.

Sidney was such
a nice little boy.

Friendly, cheerful.

-Why did this have to happen?
-It's all right, Mrs. Alison.

The nature of the killing
points to one thing.

Ritual murder.

-Goodbye, Sir Mark.
-Goodbye.

-Thank you.
-Bye, Mark.
I'll see you later.

Yes.

Can I show you
the grounds, Colonel?

Thank you very much.

YEATS: Colonel, I refuse
to alarm the children.

Their happiness is our
prime consideration.

For God's sake, one
of your children has
already been murdered.

Unless my men are allowed
inside the grounds,

I cannot guarantee
maximum security.

Your men are patrolling
the boundary walls
on those two sides.

Out there is the sea.
Come, I'll show you.

YEATS: Nobody's going
to try this route.

The children are quite safe.

BINGHAM: Have they no idea
what has happened?

None. As you can see,
it's a special treat tonight,

Mary's bonfire party.

How long will the children
be out of doors?

Oh, they'll go indoors
for a hot drink in a moment.

We'll light the fire
in half an hour.

They'll be safely
tucked in bed by ten o'clock.

But will they be
fully supervised?

Oh, four adults to just
over a dozen children.

That's far
from satisfactory, Doctor.

-Just half a dozen policemen
carefully placed...
-No!

-The final responsibility...
-Rests with us.
We accept that.

Our founder Helen Van Traylen
always put the children first.

Never deny the young, Colonel.

It'll be the biggest bonfire
we've ever seen.

-Up!
-MARY: And that old guy
will burn and burn.

MARY: Fire. The fire.
My body's burning.

Vincent, where are you?
Vincent, help me!

-Poor Vincent.
-PETER: Mary,
what happened to Vincent?

MARY: He died. I loved him.

But it was my fault he died.

PETER: What happened, Mary?

Why did Vincent die?

MARY: It was my idea.

We had to destroy
the accounts.

Kerosene, the office
burned like a torch.

PETER: But the wind changed.

MARY: The steers broke out.
We were trapped.

My love, I tried to keep
them back

when I got into
the payroll truck.

They trampled you,
threw you with their horns
into the fire!

Vincent, I'm burning too!

My feet, my wrists,

my poor arms.

Well?

What did that tape tell you?

A nightmare?

It was more than a nightmare.

Something actually
happened to that child.

Not to her personally.

What do you mean?

Look at these.

It's Helen Van Traylen.

JOAN: Look at the long gloves.

She always wore them
to hide the scars
from the fire.

Her husband's name
was Vincent.

He was an American
millionaire.

Everything the child
says connects.

All the American words
she uses like "knocking pen"
and "scattergun."

And "steers" and "kerosene."

The child couldn't
have been there.

Exactly.

Now you're a man of science.

You tell me how a child
can relive something

that happened to
a dead woman 30 years ago.

It's impossible.

Not if the child
has psychic powers,

controlled by her mother?

A psychic link between
mother and daughter?

Oh, I don't know.
I've never done a story
on the occult before.

It's all hocus-pocus,
mumbo jumbo.

I've always believed
in hard facts.

Till now.

Somewhere on the dark side
of the mind,

there must be an explanation.

Could Anna Harb
be using her power

to destroy the trustees
through the child?

POLICE OFFICER 1:
She may never be found.

POLICE OFFICER 2:
Hey hey, there are bogs
on this island

that could swallow
the tay bridge.

Will you have another one?

No, thank you. I'm fine.

Relax, man. We can do nothing
until the morning.

You can hardly
expect me to relax
until that woman is found.

The children and the trustees
are still in danger.

Inver House is well secured.

It's the obvious choice
for the next attempt,
isn't it?

She will have to
get past our patrols.

Well, what if she already has?

Everybody at Inver House
will be around that bonfire.

They will be sitting targets.

Inspector Grant
and his men can be
there in an instant.

By which time somebody else
could well be dead.
I'm sorry, Captain.

You must excuse me.

Hello, Control.
Patrol 3-5, over.

Control to 3-5, report.

POLICEMAN:
All is clear.

When are you expecting
some action?

The children come out
in 10 minutes.

Well, what was it
you wanted, Sir Mark?

I want to examine
the cerebral tissues

from the bodies
collected this morning.

-What, now?
-It's urgent.

-Well, you'll want
the slides now, then.
-Please.

What possible use is there
in looking at scraps
of dead bodies?

Miss Foster,
I am a pathologist.

But it has nothing
to do with what I've
told you about.

Didn't you listen
to anything I've said?

Your theory raises
certain questions.

-I hope this will
give me the answers.

Thank you.

Identification, please, sir.

Thank you, sir.

-Anything happen, Sergeant?
-Nothing, sir.

Except the children, that is.

-What about them?
-You can hear them from here.

They've started a party.

Thank you, Sergeant.

Well, there's no doubt
about it.

No doubt about what?

The trustees
in that boat were dead
before the explosion.

-What?
-Why should their
bodies be destroyed?

To hide the manner in which
they were originally killed?

Oh, that's impossible.
There must be some mistake.

Miss Foster, even Dr. Rose

would never question
Sir Mark's deductions.

MARK: Dr. Rose? What's it
got to do with her?

I'm sorry. After her
retirement, she remarried.

You knew her
as Dr. Laura Tyrrell.

She's now the medical officer
at Inver House.

Laura Tyrrell, of course.

I must admit,
I always wondered why
she should bury herself

in such an out-of-the-way
place as Bala.

And Dr. Yeats as well.

Why, what's so special
about them?

Well, Dr. Tyrrell is
a first-class biochemist.

She's specializing
in the chemical relationship

between the brain
and the personality.

And Yeats?

He's a brain surgeon,
and like Dr. Tyrrell,

the best in his
particular field.

-Go round to the front

and stay there
until you're called.

-Ah, good evening, Colonel.
-Good evening.

They seem to be enjoying
themselves, what with all this
laughing and fireworks,

it'll be a long time
before we get any
peace tonight, sir.

Fireworks... Explosives!

♪ "Oranges and lemons,"
say the bells of St. Clement's

♪ "You owe me five farthings,"
say the bells of St. Martin's

♪ "When will you pay me?"
say the bells of Old Bailey

♪ "When I grow rich,"
say the bells of Shoreditch

♪ "When will that be?"
say the bells of Stepney

♪ "I do not know,"
says the great bell of Bow

♪ Here comes a candle
to light you to bed

♪ And here comes a chopper
to chop off your head ♪

Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!
Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!

Cut! Cut! Cut!
Cut! Cut! Cut!

Don't cut the rope!

Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!

Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!

Mary, I order you.
Drop that knife!

-Get him!
-Get off me! Get off! Mary!

Kick him! Hit him!

Children, stop it! Children.

Stop, let go! Let go. No.

I'm sorry, Sir Mark.
It makes no sense to me.

Just so much scientific
hocus-pocus.

But surely you must
see the implications.

Man, I'm a policeman.
I'm used to dealing
with facts.

Very well.
The trustees are elderly
and immensely rich.

They have an intense
horror of dying.

Show me the man who hasn't.

But they have used their power
and their wealth

to try and achieve
immortality.

You're pulling my leg.
That's impossible.

-How?
-By transplanting the nucleus

of their adult knowledge,
experience,

and personality into the minds
of those children.

Miss Foster,
play the tape, please.

MARY: The fire.

My body's burning.

Vincent, where are you?
Vincent, help me!

Burned your own mother alive.

Yes, she came here
to plead with us,

to prove her innocence.

She knew too much.
I wanted my revenge.

Revenge? But, Mary,
you cannot take the law
into you own hands,

no matter what she's done.

She didn't do anything. I did.

But she killed Haynes
and the trustees.

Trustees aren't dead.

I was their salvation.

Untie me, Mary.

Be quiet, Colonel!
I'm the mistress here.

But good God, man,

they can't be alive.

A part of them is,
the very essence of
their personalities.

But how?

Memory.
A total lifetime's experience

has been transferred
to those children.

So what was on that tape

did not happen to Mary Valley.

I know.

The real Mary Valley
no longer exists.

You are Helen Van Traylen.

-He knows. He knows.
Isn't he clever?

MARY: So clever.

Get the ropes.

Do not condemn Helen, Colonel.

She had a vision,
a gift of life bridged
from one generation

to another,
in physical resurrection.

Be one of us, Colonel,

for we will be immortal.

Like her?
Diseased and corrupt?

Mary's only a child.

She will grow into
a good human being.

She killed her own mother.

What was done was done
for our salvation.

She is evil.

Helen had the soul of a saint.

Her ways are revealed
through this chosen child.

We believe
her purpose is right.

Right? Using the bodies
of these children

to extend your frustrated
aging lives?

-They suffered no pain.
-Those children,

what do they know?

They're dead,

but Helen Van Traylen
lives on in that child,

twisted and insane.

She will live
to be greater than Helen.

Perfect in mind and body.

She will never be young again.

She is using you.
Can't you see that?

BINGHAM: They will lock
those children away!

They will study them
like guinea pigs.

Nobody will find us.
You nearly spoiled
our party, Colonel.

You came uninvited
and you refused the gift
we offered you.

Now you can play
a game with us.

Tug of war.

Paul, Naureen, Michael,
pull him down!

Go on, pull him down!

You're slipping, Colonel.

You're going to die
like the coach driver.

He played with his lighter
and refused to obey me.

So he died too.

So did Dr. Haynes.

He wanted to give me back
to that horrible woman.

So I stabbed him
with her hatpin.

Wasn't that clever?

-But why?
-It was necessary.

He was beginning
to find out the truth,
just like you.

Pull him, pull,
pull him into the fire!

Pull him, pull him
into the fire!

It's no use. You can't escape,

like little Sidney
Molson tried to.

You killed him.

You thought Anna did it,
didn't you?

Little Sidney had
to be taught a lesson,

like my mother when she
came here to destroy me.

She didn't know we can
all be born again.

She didn't know
I could live forever.

You could have been one
of us, you silly man.

Now you'll burn!
You're gonna burn!

Oh, you're
gonna burn. Yes, you are.

You're gonna burn!

MARY:
You've destroyed my dreams!

I curse your cruel God!