All language subtitles for Horrors Of The Black Museum

- For Miss Dunlap? Gail Dunlap?
- That' me, all right.

I've arranged this parcel for you.

- Ooh, let's have it.
- Sign here first.

- Thanks so much.
- That's all right, dearie!

- What is it Gail?
- Looks like a present.

- Who from?
- I don't know. I can't recognise the name.

Come on, what's in it?

I can't tell till I open it,
can I, silly!

- Who sent them to you?
- I don't know. No notes, no card.

I know. It's a present from an
unknown admirer

and he wants to take you
to the races.

I do hope you choose the winner.

Beautiful! They must have
cost at least twenty pounds!

- Can I have a look?
- No, no, they're mine.

I'll have a look first.

I wonder who could have
sent them to you?

My eyes!

Now Peggy, try to remember.

- Who were her gentlemen friends?
- I don't know.

I'd be glad to tell you if I knew.

We made it a sort of rule never
to bring anybody home.

It's a small flat and we
always kept it respectable.

Didn't you ever go out with
Gail as a foursome?

Once we did. There were
two travellers from Manchester.

That was nearly a year ago and then...
Oh it couldn't have been them..

Did she ever mention the names
of her admirers?

Only to say, Jim did this
and Effy did that and

we did lots of fun.
It meant nothing to me.

- Ever talk about having any trouble, any threats?
- No.

She said nothing to me.

Mostly we went our separate ways,
minding our own business,

and sharing the expenses of the flat.

That's why we never had any word.

- Did she receive much mail?

Bills, but not too many of those.

Did she receive any presents before?

Oh, at Christmas she got a woolen
sweater from an aunt in the country.

That's why she got so excited
about the binoculars.

She thought she was to
take them to the races...

Yet it was to kill her!

There, there, Peggy.
You try and calm yourself.

You better go back to the flat.
We'll keep an eye on it.

And thank you very much
for coming along.

- Good morning Inspector Lodge.
- Oh, it's you, Bancroft.

I know I'm not welcome, but you
needn't make it that obvious.

Don't you ever wait to be announced before
entering my office, Bancroft?

Supt. Graham, I'd have thought by now
that I'd be welcome in your office anytime.

Ah, these are the binoculars.

I assume they have been
checked for fingerprints?

They have.

- Do you mind if I have a look at them?
- Help yourself.

- Just be careful.
- Thank you for warning me.

Clever. Fiendishly clever.

Ingenious enough to give us the third
brutal murder in two weeks.

- Yes, I know.

Aren't these similar to the pair
you have in your 'Black Museum'?

I imagine that is where the
fiend got his inspiration.

The museum is not open to the public.

We take great pains to keep out
the curious and the morbid.

Yes, I know, but since you've not
caught the murder

how do you know where
he comes from?

It could be someone who had
legitimate access to the museum.

Even a disgruntled police officer
leading a secret life of crime.

Look Bancroft, is that going to be
the tone of your article this week?

I'm sorry if I rub the yard
the wrong way

but just remember,
I don't write for you.

My books, my magazine article,
my column,

all this I write for a large public.

- Without too much conscience.

But with accuracy.

That remains to be seen.

Have I published anything
that isn't true?

Three young women have been killed
in London with the space of two weeks.

Each murder more horrible than the last.

- And the police...

Have done everything possible
to catch the murderer.

Murderer? What makes you
so sure it's a single killer?

Do you have any clues?
Did anyone see him?

- Perhaps the killer's a woman.
- That's it, spread more confusion.

We're quite sure the killer is a man.

Then what will he use next?

Is that going to be the
subject of your next article?

I don't even have to read it.

In my view it will be just a mixture
of conjecture and sensationalism.

You're trying to work the readers
up into a state of panic.

London in terror...
Tripe!

Well, I'm glad my readers
don't seem to think so,

and certainly my editor
disagrees with you.

Not that I enjoy being sordid but
they pay me a great deal of money

for my analysis of crime.

In every war the historian receives
more money than the foot soldier.

Not a bad line.
Do you mind if I quote you?

Graham here.
Yes, sir. At once.

Sorry, we have an important meeting
now with Commissioner Wayne.

Well, give the old man my compliments.

Whenever he wishes,
I'm at his disposal.

You might ask him to consult me.

I'll let you ask him.
Show him out, Lodge.

As you see, I've marked out the areas
where the three murders took place.

It's quite obvious this killer feels safe
in the crowded section of London.

The victims are usually young women
who live alone in London,

their family to ties.

- That's correct, sir.
- Have you been able to get any leads?

No, sir.

- Any information at all?
- Not a word.

I've talked to all my sources.

My stool-pigeon, most reliable, has
been trying desperately. Not a word.

I checked with my undercover
girl, no tips, no leads.

No-one seems to have the slightest
inkling where all this springs from.

No-one holding anything back?

No, sir. I'm sure they're not
shielding anyone.

They feel as badly about these
kind of killings as we do.

How about the sender's name
and address on the wrapping?

Fictitious.

There's no such name in the directory
and the street number doesn't exist.

Also, we checked with the Merrington
post office where it was sent.

No information there.

There's no doubt we're
dealing with a brilliant maniac.

With no apparent motive.

A deranged killer
operating alone,

using weapons similar to those
we have in our Black Museum.

I know it's difficult,
but the public wants results.

Protection, detection, arrest and punishment.

You must run down every
possible clue, everyone on the alert.

I'm leaving it to you two.

- Very well, sir.
- Right, sir.

Yes, yes, Mrs. Jones.

You'll see that Gary takes those
tablets three times a day,

but if he's no better tonight, let me
know and I'll come in and see him.

Yes. Yes, right.
Goodbye, Mrs. Jones.

- Well, doctor?
- Put that away, Bancroft.

Come doctor! This is my only vice.

You're wrong. It's an indulgence.

I'll tell you what
your real vice is-

- What?
- Overwork.

Really?

Yes, Bancroft. You seem to eat,
sleep and drink crime.

I mean, of course, other people's crimes...
and you've been particularly affected by

these three dreadful,
gruesome murders in London.

Do you realise you've been here for
practically emergency treatment

three times in the last two weeks?

It's a curious relationship.

Cause and effect.

After each murder you go into
a sort of state of shock.

- But I come out of it.
- Yes, you do.

I suppose after you've written
about it, analysed it,

you return to yourself.

- Am I myself now?
- Not yet.

Pulse is rapid. Blood pressure high.

Your heart detects strain and tension.

If you continue this way
the results might be fatal.

I'll have to risk it.

- I know I'm sensitive to murder.
- Over sensitive.

You seem to require immediate
help after each of these murders.

I'll tell you what my theory is-

You're involved, I mean vicariously,
and the treatment is clear...

I shall have to put you under sedation.

Bancroft, if you could cut
down on your work

and learn to relax you'd
be as fit as a fiddle.

Not yet.

I can't pamper myself with
tranquilisers and sedatives.

Not while these murders are unsolved.

Why don't you leave it to the police?

Leave it to the police and
they might never be solved!

No, I must concern myself with them,
as you say "eat sleep and drink crime".

I promise you, after these
murders are solved,

I will have a long, long rest.

as your physician, your health
is my responsibility,

but I need more co-operation from you.

you can't go on hunting
down maniacal killers,

writing books about them,
taunting Scotland Yard

and still enjoy normal health.

Doctor Ballan, when the killer is caught
I will become your most obedient patient,

till then, thank you for
telling me that I'll live.

Well Mr. Bancroft,
come to write me off?

Not yet. I don't think
you're vicious enough.

- Although you do look it.
- Thanks for the compliment.

I wish all my customers
were so gallant.

They'd be bringing me
flowers instead of complaints.

Then why don't you
stop cheating them?

I never cheat.

I like to make something to
keep me alive, but

'live and let live'-
that's my motto.

I put something aside for you.

A gift for a young lady-
that's if you have one.

A cigarette box. Open
the lid and it plays music.

Smart and cheery,
don't you think?

Put it away!
I can't stand that!

I don't want that.
Just close it!

Perhaps this.

Caught your fancy, hey?

Where did you get this?

I didn't pinch it, you know.
I came by it honestly enough.

- Like all your things...
- Like everything here.

I buy gold and silver things from
refugees because they need the money,

- and I go to auctions.
- Look, I don't care where you got it.

Have you put a price on it?

I'll let you have it for £3 10s.

I won't haggle.

I'll pay you £2 and pretend
I haven't been robbed.

The way you put things,
literally like!

- I think I can't resist you.
- Take it or leave it.

£2 10s, it's yours.

Settled.

Shall I wrap it up?

Hurry will you.

By the way, Mr. Bancroft, what do
you really think of these killings?

Well, I said it all in my weekly column.

If you can read, you know what I think.

You blame the police.

What do you really think?

Not that I want to make you more
conceited than you are, Mr. Bancroft,

but let me tell you
you have a way with words, you do.

Especially when it's about murder.

It's my favourite subject.

Don't I know!
I read all your books.

I study your articles every week,

but this last group of murders
give give the girl the shivers!

Listen, Maggie, until this murderer
runs out of younger victims

you're safe enough.

Mr. Bancroft, you give a
woman confidence, you do!

- Good afternoon, Mr. Bancroft.
- Hi, Rick.

- Moving along all right?
- Yes sir, almost finished.

- There's quite a bit of research.
- Just make sure you're accurate.

When you're attacking you've
got to be sure of your ammunition.

Yes, sir.

- Would you like a drink?
- I need one.

Any messages?

A few cranks. Even one or two
threats because of the last article.

Let them.

If you're worth your salt as a writer you're
bound to rub some people the wrong way.

I'm sure, sir. I just tell them to
put it in a letter and hang up.

That's it. Any other messages?

Your tobacconist called.
Your cigars have arrived.

- Shall I pick them up?
- Not yet.

And the mail clerk from your paper,
they have a bundle of letters from

your readers for you.
Shall I fetch them?

Later. Now we have more
important work to do.

Let's go downstairs.

Rick, unlock the door.

Add this interesting little item
to our ever-growing collection.

Some day it may serve its purpose.

I'll put it with the small weapons.

Our museum is really growing.

They have nothing like this
in Scotland Yard.

I'm sure ours is better.

You know, Rick, the Black Museum
in Scotland Yard is not really selective.

A great deal of clutter.

A mere little collection of guns and
knives...

Trunks in which hacked-up
bodies were shipped...

Death masks...ropes and neckties
in strangulation...

All-in-all a dead collection
that belongs to the past.

But mine is alive.

Not only does it pay tribute to the
past, but it's part of the present.

And with the new electronic equipment...

- The future too.
- Yes, I know.

And what do their little
weapons add up to?

Failure.

Each one represents some stupid
murderer who was caught.

But I shall demonstrate that my
weapons can be used again and again.

Freely, successfully, and that the
murderer will never be caught.

With her father to be released
from the hospital next Tuesday

and continued treatment
at her own home.

Put the day and date
on this, Miss St right,

and add the following for
the Edmond Bancroft file:

I examined Mr. Edmond Bancroft again
today and found his pulse very rapid.

Over 120, and his blood pressure
200/210.

A very abnormal dilation of the heart.

The pupils of his eyes were
noticeably very small.

Although I am convinced
he does not take drugs.

I'm quite confused over
his entire condition.

As his visits here during the past two
weeks have become very frequent

on each visit he manifests a
high state of unnatural excitement.

While his talk is controlled

I suspect he is the victim
of some aberration

which is driving him from a sane
and normal mental state.

I feel he is in definite need
of psychiatric treatment

and be hospitalised or his
condition might become fatal.

- Did you get all that down?
- Yes, Doctor Ballan.

Right, now, add this to the
pile of Mr. John Garland...

Mr. Garland suffers from a mild...

I'll have one more for the road, Joan,
and leave you to your pretty dreams.

Nightmares would be more like it.

After an evening like this,
what could upset you?

Eddy, I've run out of money.

Again?

Well, I only buy things to
make me look pretty for you.

That's why I'm broke.

In that case you'll have to do without.

- Oh, Eddy, darling...
- And don't call me Eddy! It irritates me!

You do get into a mood fast, don't you?

- I don't like to be used.
- But I must have some money.

Call it a loan, if you like.
You can give me less next month.

£20 would do.

15, if that's all you have on you.

Not a penny.

You might think that
money grows on trees.

It seems to for you.

All you have to do is write
another story about Jack the Ripper

or Doctor Crippen,
or this new maniac.

It's not that easy.

Hard or easy, can I have the money?

No.

Well then, I'll just have to find someone
else to give it to me, won't I?

That's a cheap maneuver,
trying to make me jealous.

Well you don't exactly
own me you know.

Well you can at least try to make
it look that way while I'm here.

Master of all you survey
and all that rot!

You want an awful lot
for your miserable money.

It's not enough that I put up
with you when I have to.

Do you want me to set off
fireworks as well?!

Who do you think you are anyway?

'Cause you're less than an answer to
a girl's prayer, I'll tell you that!

Let's not have an ugly scene.

Ugly is the word all right.

I ought to get a reward
just for being with you.

The way you keep me
cooped up in here,

making on the sly,
never taking me anywhere.

I'm the one who deserves a
medal for putting up with you!

If you had a little surface polish,

some good manners
or could drink like a lady,

I might be able to present you to one
or two of my friends. Take you...

- to a party...
- I wouldn't want to be seen with you!

But when you hang on to me, if we
went into a restaurant or a cinema,

tapping away with that cane
so that the whole world knows

- with a cripple.
- You fiend!

Oh, come on dearie! Show me how fast
you can chase me round the room now!

Give me back my cane!

Not until I've told you everything.

I've been saving it up for you.

Without your cane
you're only half a man!

Without your money
you'd be no man at all!

Acting like a big-shot,
keeping me hidden away here!

You pay my measly food and rent.

And don't forget it's a roof over
your head too when you need it-

with a pretty woman around!

Begrudging me a little money
when I've given you love!

Correction- I bought it!

Well, you've had more
than your money's worth.

There's no more for sale.

And don't come snivelling around
here begging for another chance.

I'll show a real scene, I will,
and it won't be so private.

Give the neighbours a look in, let
them see what I have to put up with!

No. maybe I was a little hasty.

It's too late now, not even
if you made it up to me.

Why don't you calm down?

You know nothing about women, even
if you do know everything about murder.

- What do you mean, everything?
- How you brag in your cups.

In my arms you grow
oh so tall and brave.

You laugh at the police.

They're blunderers. They haven't
a farthing of what goes on.

You, only you know the real murderer.

- I said that? I said I knew the 'real'...
- That's what you said, dearie!

I didn't make it up.

You say lots of things.
You do go on you know.

- Anyway, I'm fed up.
- Where are you going?

I don't have to tell you,
but I'm going out.

I haven't reached the
rocking chair age yet.

I'm going to find myself a man.
A real man!

A whole man.

A man I can do things with.
Things I can't do with you!

You know I haven't danced in months.

We'd look like a fine couple
on the dance floor, wouldn't we?!

Me dragging you around.

Well, at least we'd give
everyone a good laugh.

Here, take your precious cane,
and take yourself out too.

For good!

Come on sweetheart,
why don't you have a drink with me?

Thank you, but I already have
my drink waiting for me.

Maybe some other time, huh?

Come on, honey, let's get away from
the people and the noise

and go back to my flat
for a few drinks.

Yes, that's a very good idea.

Look, why don't you go up there first?
If I don't show up, start without me!

- Don't be smart, honey.

I was just trying to be nice.

If that's the way you want it,
well, that's all right with me.

Give me a whiskey for the road.

It's the first time we've seen
you here in over a month.

Where have you been keeping yourself?

Oh, I've been very busy, Ted,
but now I'm free.

I think I better have one
more before I go home.

I'm going to tell you something.

You really livened my place up tonight.
You certainly made it a lot of fun.

- Here's one on the house, from me.
- Cheers.

Yeah, from now on Ted, I'm
always going to have a lot of fun.

You know it's funny,
I was just thinking

when my mother and dad were alive
they never had any fun.

Really, Ted, they never went out.

They lived in a small joint.

They had seven kids
and stayed home every night.

My mother was always washing,
cooking, darning socks,

making clothes for the kids.

Always working.

And one day, boom!

They both got killed
by a stinking bomb.

You know what? I'm going to have fun.

I'm going to live.
No man is going to own me.

You hear that Ted,
no man is going to own me!

- Goodnight dearie.
- Goodnight, Joan.

Drop in again. real soon.

I'll see you tomorrow night.

Goodnight everybody. Goodnight.

- Goodnight, Joan.
- Goodnight.

Joan, how about one more drink?

Goodnight dearie.
I know when I've had enough.

You scared me, you did.

- Not frightened of the law, are you?
- Of course not.

I'm glad to see you.

With this murderer loose
you're a welcome sight.

Then why are you out alone at night?

You're bound to draw some attention.

I had something on my mind.

Walking home now are you?

Yes. I feel better now
I've had my constitutional.

I have to have a breath of
fresh air before I can sleep.

And something else too, I gather.

A bit stronger than air.

I did wet my lips.

I like to have a nip with friends.

- No law against it is there?
- Not here there isn't.

On a chilly night it cheers a body.

- It certainly does.
- Do you live far from here?

Oh no, only down the street.
Number thirty-one.

We'll walk home with you
if you don't mind.

Not at all. It's not often I get two
handsome escorts to my very door.

Been living long in this place?

About four months or so.

This is the first time we've seen you.

Yes, mostly I keep to myself.

- I read quite a bit.
- Oh, the studious type, hey?

Exactly! And music, I love music.

Sometimes I put the radio on all night.

Low, of course, but every now
and then I just break out!

Bird in a gilded cage and all that.

I understand completely.

Here we are,
and a pleasant walk it's been.

- Need any help to find your key?
- Thank you.

I keep everything in my purse
except a change of linen.

Oh here we are.
I've got the key.

Thank you very much.

If I knew you any better
I'd kiss you both goodnight.

A wave of the hand will do.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight, miss.

- The scream came from in here.
- Miss Bartley?

Miss Bartley?

- Call the police! Call the police!

- Did you get a good look at him?
- I did! I certainly did.

I'll never forget it till
my last day on earth!

- What did he look like?
- A horrible old man.

- So it was. The very face of evil.
- An old man?

The devil himself!

In his fifties I should say,
but he was running so fast.

Well, that's just it. Listen to your own
words, he was running so fast.

He was old. I saw him clearly.
Heaven help me!

He had the speed and the
strength of the unholy.

He did at that! Nearly
knocked me over with a shove.

Pushing everybody out of the
way he ran for the door.

His clothes wasn't old.

That's right. he was wearing one
of them zipper jackets.

You know, the kind all the
teenagers are wearing.

What's his clothes got to do with it?

It's his face I'll never forget.

Old and wrinkled and steeped in evil,
and eyes burning in his head.

And the devilish speed of him!

I ran for the door and screamed and
in a blink he was gone into the night.

Thank you very much.

- Now about Miss ah...
- Miss Bartley. Joan Bartley.

At least that's the name
she called herself.

What do you mean 'called herself'?
Did you know her by any other name?

Oh no, no, she wasn't bad or anything,
but a young woman living by herself...

That's no crime, and please just
tell us what you saw and

let the police draw all the conclusions.

- I'm for that.

- Did you know anything about Miss Bartley?
- No, not really.

She'd only been here a few months.

Rented the flat from
a girl who got married.

Not neighbourly at all
that Bartley woman.

- Did she do any work?
- Can't say you'd noticed it.

- Did she have any callers?
- I think she lived quietly.

Kept to herself.

Put on airs, she did.

Late one night, I'd come
back from a wedding party,

I saw her walk in, a bit tipsy
if you ask me, with a soldier.

An American soldier, I think he was.

Of course when he left I wouldn't know.

I'm going back to the flat.
You remain here.

Thank you all very much,
and I suggest you all go to bed.

- I saw a man knock on her door.
- Oh, you and your stories!

- I did! I did!
- Tell me about it.

Late at night. Mummy didn't hear
me when I tiptoed out of bed.

I opened my door ever so quietly
and there he stood.

There was something
wrong with his foot.

And he had a cane, and he used
it to rap on her door.

What do I get for telling
you all this stuff?

That's what you get and what
you deserve too you naughty girl

for telling fibs.

Always making up stories she is, just
like she was seeing it on the television.

Over excited she is,
ought to be in bed.

Yes, all of you better go to bed.

Don't worry, the house
will be well guarded.

Thank you very much
and goodnight.

- What do you make of it?
- It's the same killer.

Have you got anything?

That's the most gruesome sight
I've ever seen.

- Was it an axe?
- Axe, cleaver blade...It wasn't left behind.

We can't find her head either.

If this was the time of the French
Revolution, I'd say it was a guillotine.

The most horrible murder of my career.

- How about prints?
- Loads. All over the place.

Only hope I can get
some that are clear.

I'll let you have a report
as soon as we develop them.

We should get a lead from all this.
She was entertaining someone.

There must have been a brawl.

Yes, it's a pity.
All this glass shattered.

Oh well, we may end up with
fragments instead of finger prints.

- Any finger scrapings?
- Nothing.

I don't think she had a chance.

News sensation! Woman's head cut off!
Read all about it!

Read all about it!
News sensation!

You're not even safe in her own bed!

Looks that way with
the killer still loose.

This one's like a wild animal.

Cutting heads off.
Knocking people down.

Running faster than the eye can see.

What's the police doing?

Traffic, that's what they're doing.
Traffic.

They'll see old ladies across the street
and write their parking tickets.

News sensation!
Killer strikes again!

News sensation!
Read all about it!

Thank you very much.

Well Supt. Graham, you're the last person
I expected to see at a literary cocktail party.

Especially one given by my
publisher to launch my new book.

- I do read you know.
- Even my books?

Especially yours.

Give the devil his due.
You do know your crime history.

He certainly does.

This book is going to be very popular.

It's what you stir up with
your writing that I don't like.

Surely Supt. Graham you're
not trying to blame me

- for what's going on in London?
- You can have a share in the responsibility.

That's a pretty broad accusation.

Why not blame magazines,
radio, TV or the cinema?

They don't quite slant it
deliberately like you do.

I see, and you'd rather debate
with me than pursue the murderer?

That won't be necessary.

Don't tell me Scotland Yard gave up?

Oh no. Haven't you heard?

We've picked up the murderer
three hours ago.

- That's wonderful.
- What's his name?

Tom Rivers, and that's all I
can tell you about it now.

Thank you, that's quite enough.

While you were taking your
well-deserved bows,

we got a full confession.
All four crimes.

- Congratulations! Remarkable work.
- I knew you'd be pleased.

Public interest and all that.

- I'm sure you'll be around for the details.
- Not really. I don't compete with scoops.

It's what I say in my
follow-up column that counts.

But just the same, thank you for
your offer and my compliments.

You see, I can be just as full of
praise in my column as of criticism.

You relieve my mind.

We don't work for praise.
We're public servants.

I think I'll be getting
back to the Yard.

- The Yard never fails.
- Never, never.

Now that the murderer is safely
tucked away, London can sleep.

Unescorted women can walk
the streets again at night,

sleep soundly in their beds
feeling safe and secure.

Kind of strikes a blow at your title.

- 'Killer After dark'.
- Not a fatal one.

We can always depend on
London to provide another mystery.

- Did you fetch them?
- I told you I sent for them.

- Now calm down, Rivers.
- I can't. It's a matter of life and death.

That's exactly the message I gave them.
That's why they're on the way over.

- Good morning, sir.
- Good morning.

I'm sorry to disturb you
but he's been screaming for hours.

- I thought it might be urgent.
- That's quite all right.

What do you want, Rivers?

I want to confess a few more crimes.

Are you doing this of your own free will?

Yes, and on my conscience.

It gives me no rest.

- I'm tortured day and night.
- What kind of crimes?

Murders. All murders.

- I've never committed lesser ones.
- You sure of what you're saying?

Positive. Names, dates, places,
as if it was yesterday.

I'll tell you everything.

Get me a shorthand reporter.

I want the world to have a complete
record of this in black and white.

Where did these other murders take place?

I'll begin with my first.

You mean before the four
you've already confessed to?

Long before!

I had the urge to kill
when I was sixteen.

It was like a ringing in my head.

- Kill...kill!
- Where did the first take place?

Dover. I worked in a hotel
as a second chef.

There was this little waitress there.

Pretty as a picture,
but she wouldn't talk to me.

Too good for me.

So one night I followed her.

- what did you use?
- What did I use?

Yes, what weapon to kill her?

My hands. They're powerful.

My hands can do it.
I don't need anything else.

On this last one you said
you used a guillotine.

Oh, I felt like it.

Saw a picture of one
in a history book.

It inspired me to build one.
I'm clever with my hands.

I made it and I used it.

- Do you know what I'll use next?
- Tell us.

A death ray. I've been working
on it secretly for years!

It's almost ready.
Nobody will be safe!

I'll be able to shoot a
death ray out of my eye.

I'll kill anyone.

Get me a shorthand reporter.

I have to confess!

Just be still Rivers and we'll give
you a chance to confess to everything.

Poor wretched barney!
He looked it yesterday

but he had all the details
of the four murders.

They're usually very good on details.
They memorise everything.

- Get anything?
- Finally tracked him down, sir.

No police record, but he does have
a medical discharge from the army.

Since the war he's been in and
out of three mental institutions.

- Schizophrenia, but he's harmless.
- Thank you.

I suppose we better have him
committed to a hospital, quietly.

- If you don't mind, sir, not yet.
- What do you mean?

Let's detain him here
and play along with his confession.

Even build it up a bit, but
keep the reporters away.

In the meantime we can
increase the patrols around

those areas at night.
Every available man.

With Rivers in gaol, maybe we
can flush out the real killer,

Yes. Good idea, Graham.

Mass murderer talks,
and talks and talks and talks!

Yes, he confessed to everything.

Enough to make your hair stand on end.

Would they let us photograph
the killer for your story?

It won't be necessary.

- No pictures?
- No.

- Not even an interview?
- No.

Not yet anyway.

Let Scotland Yard and the other
papers gorge themselves on

on this swill.

Tomorrow we'll dig into my files
under the heading 'Unsolved Crimes'.

You better write that down.

I have a record of some beautiful
and harrowing confessions

made by the wrong people.

I’m beginning to understand, Mr. Bancroft.

Some poor souls, when they
read about a murderer get so

worked up they confuse
fact with fantasy.

No, Rick, we'll wait until the so-called
murderer makes a fool of

everyone who believes in him.

When will that be?

We'll just have to wait and find out.

I'm going out for two or three hours.

- Shall I drive you?
- No, I can manage alone.

Besides, you've plenty to do around here.

- You're late as usual.
- I'm sorry dear.

I've told you at least a dozen times to kiss
me first and then make the excuses.

There, that's better, although I do
wish you'd be punctual just once.

Angela, I've told you it's not up to me.

Mr. Bancroft can always find something
for me to do at the last moment.

Then why don't you stand up to him?

Oh, I couldn't do that.

Rick, I know you're thankful and
loyal to him for all he's done for you,

but there's limit even to gratitude.

What sort of a hold does he have on you?

I don't exactly know.

Even when I want to go
against his wishes I can't.

Something stops me.

I feel that I must do
what he says.

Will it always be like that?

You know I've been trying to change
things ever since I met you.

Then you must try harder, Rick,
for your sake and mine.

- You know I love you.
- I love you too.

But we can't keep our love
a secret forever.

You asked me not to say a word
about us and so far I haven't.

But how long?
When can I tell my friends?

They think I've been acting
very mysterious lately.

When can I introduce you
to my parents?

All that soon.
I promise you, soon.

What kind of work detained you tonight?

I've no time to tell you.

I ran out for a little while
but now I must get back.

We'll have more time together soon.

I'll try to tell him about you,
about us.

Yes, I will tell him.

Good evening, Mr. Bancroft.
I've been waiting for you.

Indeed. Why did you think
I would be here tonight?

Because, after each murder,
regular as a clock, I expect you here,

and I prepare for your visit.

You see, Mr. Bancroft, I've
found something new for you.

A pair of ice tongs.

You know Aggie, I think I
could use these in my collection.

- How much do you want for them?
- £1200.

£1200?!

You're out of your mind, Aggie.

No, Mr. Bancroft. Those ice tongs
will cost you £12,000.

And you will buy them.

What makes you so sure?

Because you're paying
off a debt you owe me.

After all, we've been
partners for a long time.

But it's you who has
reaped the profits, not me.

They've paid you a fortune for writing
about the murders here in London.

Would they have happened without
the weapons you've bought from me?

Well, I must say, Aggie, you do run
a bit deeper than I ever suspected.

You must have a devil
tucked away inside you.

I also have eyes in my head
and a brain that can put

two and two together.

For instance, when I sell you a pair
of second-hand German binoculars,

then I see a picture of it in the
newspaper as a murder weapon.

Nonsense! There are thousands of
glasses like that in London.

- But this particular one
had my mark on it.

- You see, I scratch my price in
code on everything I sell.

- Otherwise I might cheat myself
out of a profit and starve to death.

Oh, I know you've polished
them off a bit,

and of course you added
something new to the lens,

like two murderous needles-
long enough to go strike

through the eyes to the brain
and kill a young girl.

I' putt my magnifying glass
on the picture in the newspaper,

and saw my mark.

And of course,

- the chopping off her head
you couldn't use the wide blade

- attached to the Crusader's

Axe I sold you.

With all this information, why
don't you go to Scotland Yard

and tell the police?

In fact, as a good citizen,
it's your duty to report this.

It's also my duty to worry
a bit about myself,

what with old age coming on.

Anyway, I shouldn't like to
spend my last days in prison.

You see, Mr. Bancroft, after
the ways I've served you,

it's too late for me to go to
Scotland Yard.

Then what do you want?

As a starter, my £1200.

It's not much when you think how
wealthy you've become yourself.

Your article, your books,
money and glory besides.

You live in a big house, you have a car,
you're your own master.

well, it's time you thought of me.

I'll let you keep the glory, but you
will have to let me share the profits.

Aggie, you have a very convincing
way about you.

- Then it's a bargain?
- It is.

£1200.

Now, Aggie...

I'm not in the habit of carrying
such large amounts in cash.

Of course I could write you a cheque.

No, I do trust you, but
I would rather have the cash.

Bring it tomorrow, around noon.

Noon sharp.

Noon sharp.

You know Aggie, these are the most
expensive ice tongs in history.

But a bargain for you.

I don't deny that.

A real bargain!

- Read all about it.

- Woman shop keeper murdered.
Read all about it.

- woman shop keeper murdered.

- read all about it.
This sensational murder...

Do you think they'll get
very far with this one?

How can they without any clues?

No motive, no fingerprints.

It'll be fun watching them try.

Shall I wait for you?

No, you'd better get on with
your work. I'll take a taxi home.

Here is the report from the lab.

Good morning, gentlemen.

Or is that the wrong thing to say?

Have you come to gloat?

Believe me Supt. Graham, I haven't.

In fact there's never anything
personal in my visit, it's just

that I have a job to do.

Then I think you'd have gone straight
to the Old Curiosity Shop,

where the woman was killed.

That does sound logical.

All in good time.

I go over the scene of a murder
the way you do, inch by inch.

But first I'd like to have a
chat with Rivers, in his cell.

The man you named as the mass murderer.

What purpose would that serve?

The public, they have rights,
you know.

First you lull them
into safety and then...

You throw them into panic again.

An interview, even if it could be arranged,
would be playing into your hands.

But that's exactly the theme
of my article this week.

The six unsolved crimes-
I could name any number of them.

The Barnsdale case eight years ago when
an innocent man was nearly hanged.

More recently the Gardener case.

A housewife axed to death
in broad daylight.

Blood on the London streets.
Still unsolved.

In fact, with regard to
what is happening now,

my article will only
show what you admit.

Perhaps prepare the public
to understand.

The police are not infallible.

Neither is the murderer.

Until you catch this killer
that remains to be proven.

- May I now see Rivers?
- You're too late. He's been released.

A man you describe as a dangerous
menace to London at liberty?

Not quite.

Rivers has a mental disorder.

Unfortunately we learned about
that too late.

For his own good he's being
confined to a mental institution,

and I am sure the last thing in the
world a psychiatrist would prescribe

for his cure is more publicity.

In that case I understand.

Better luck with the next
murderer you arrest.

- Some one at the door upstairs.
- See who it is.

He says it's a matter
of life and death.

I insist on seeing you, Bancroft,
and no-one can stop me.

- I had to see you today.
- Don't agitate yourself, Dr. Ballan.

I certainly didn't expect you here.

This time I decided to anticipate
your visit.

The one after each murder
and come to you.

Why?

Because I know now something
I should have realised earlier.

You're a sick man, Bancroft.

Dangerously sick.

- Are you trying to alarm me?

- I don't think you frighten easily and that
makes your aberration even more serious..

After each horrifying murder
in London, you go into

a state of shock.

- Why?
- You tell me.

Because you have a close link
with the murderer.

And now I've seen the morbid atmosphere
in which you live and work

things become even clearer to me.

I'm convinced you create murder
so you can write about it.

I've talked to you, read you
books, your columns.

I am convinced you live by murder.

That's quite a diagnosis.

I could have gone to the police first,
but out of consideration for our

relationship, which is a privileged one,
doctor and patient,

I came to you.

I appreciate it, but
what do you want me to do?

I want you to surrender
yourself into my custody.

I'll take you to Scotland Yard.
I'll explain your aberration,

until an accredited psychiatrist
can confirm it.

For your own good, for the good of
society, Bancroft, you must be put away.

Believe me, it'll be easier for you that way.

Well, I must say, that's
quite considerate of you.

Do you actually think
I'm the killer they're looking for?

I believe you're the force behind the
killings, and I know you're mad.

Well, Doctor Ballan, although
I can't agree with your diagnosis,

I must compliment
you on your courage.

Goading the lion, a mad lion
at that in his own den!

I am not afraid.

I've dealt with deranged persons
before and I can deal with you.

Now Bancroft, do what I tell you
otherwise I shall be forced

to notify the police.

You leave me no choice
then I have to go with you.

Yes.

- In that way you still remain in
the capacity of being my patient.

Do you mind doctor if
I just finish my notes?

- won't you sit down.
- No I'll stand, and please hurry.

It's a pit you won't indulge a
madman one moment longer.

Hurry up and finish whatever it is
you're doing so we can get out.

I'll finish right now!

Help me with him.

I said come here
and help me with him!

Remove his wrist watch and ring.
You'll dispose of them later.

What's got into you Rick?

You're slow and fumbling.
Be sharp now!

The door's open!
Go lock it.

Rick?

Put that chain on him.

All around him.
That's it, tight.

Now carry him up.

Rick, lower him in.

I said, lower him in.

Put on the rubber gloves and apron.

Take him out.

Just in time.
The bones are not affected.

Hang him up here.

Remove the chains.

I have an engagement at the
bookshop and then I think

I shall enjoy a quiet dinner.

Why don't you take
the evening off, Rick?

Find yourself some innocent diversion.

Oh, Mr. Bancroft, would you mind
writing a little something in my book?

Like what- 'With undying love',
signed Edwin Bancroft?

Not quite that much. Just say
'To Mara, an old friend'.

- And your signature, of course-
- I'll be glad to.

Thank you.

- Just your autograph will do.
- What ever you say.

All this gush.

I'd like you to know I'm buying this
as a present for my teenage son.

I don't care for your style,
but he gobbles this stuff.

I must say your son has excellent taste.

Thank you, Mr. Bancroft.

Thank you so much, Mr. Bancroft.

Would you believe we've sold
over two hundred copies today?

- It's remarkable for one little bookshop.
- Indeed. I'm quite pleased too.

You know an author lives on his royalties.

And you've earned all you get.

I do hope you have a sequel in mind.

Better than that, I'm in the
midst of writing a new one.

And I believe that this will be my
best and most successful book.

If I'm not too inquisitive,
do you have a title for it?

I do.
'The Poetry of Murder'.

'The poetry of Murder'.
Very good.

in fact, Mr. Bancroft, it's
a wonderful title.

Thank you.

- Rick?

Rick?

Rick!

I thought you were dining out Mr. Bancroft.
I didn't expect you back so early.

This is Angela Banks.

How do you do, Mr. Bancroft?

I haven't had the chance to
tell you about her

but Angela and I lately have been
seeing quite a lot of each other.

Rick was just showing me
around your museum.

Well, I suppose that's one way
to entertain a girlfriend.

In a way, this is something
of a distinction, Miss Banks.

You're the first outsider to see
my...our Black Museum.

Thank you, Mr. Bancroft, and I
certainly hope I can come again.

Some day soon I certainly hope
to become part of Rick's life.

Say no more. Your shining
face tells me the whole story.

In the meantime, Rick, my congratulations.
You've managed

- to keep something from me.
- Mr. Bancroft,

- I certainly hope you won't
hold this against Rick and me.

- But you see, we didn't
want anyone to know

until we were sure.

It's all right.

And let me compliment each
of you on your choice.

You make a very attractive couple.

I suppose in view of your plans
you'll be sharing each other's secrets?

Oh, we do already.

A woman can't begin training a
future husband too soon.

- Rick tells me everything.
- Everything?

- Certainly everything about his work.
Where he goes, what he does.

- Research for you.
The talks with the police.

I want to encourage him
to confide in me.

This way I feel I can help him.

When we get married, which will be soon,
I'm not going to be one of those wives

who stays at home
and keeps the flat clean.

I'm going to stand shoulder
to shoulder with my husband,

and help him in his career.

- A real helpmate.
- Yes, Mr. Bancroft.

And I'd certainly like to know
more about your work.

And so you shall my dear.
I'll have Rick bring you back soon,

and I'll personally escort you on
a tour of our Black Museum.

I look forward to that.

And now Rick, something's
come up and we have work to do.

- Perhaps you'd better take Angela home.
- Oh please no.

Rick and I have a date tonight.

He promised to take me
to the fun fair.

How's this for a compromise, Angela,
just give me half an hour with Rick

he can type out some notes,
I'll dictate it, and I'll finish it alone.

That's very kind of you, Mr. Bancroft.

Angela, why don't you wait
upstairs in the living room?

Play some music if you like.

I promise I won't keep your Rick
for too long.

Instead of music I'll read your book.

I want to absorb all I can.

- Goodbye Mr. Bancroft.
- I'll be along as soon as I'm through.

I do hope Mr. Bancroft you're
not angry with me because I

brought Angela here?

This goes deeper than anger, Rick,
and you know it.

Why did you bring a stranger
down here, you stupid fool?!

My back is turned for
a little while

and you violate our most sacred rule.

You know I never allow any outsider
to snoop round my workshop.

This Black Museum is
our private world.

And now, thanks to you,
it has been invaded.

But Angela's close to me.
I can trust her.

But can I?

I tell you no woman can hold her tongue.

They're all a vicious, unreliable
breed, Angela included.

If you wanted to be with here why
didn't you take her somewhere else?!

She was so insistent, so curious
to see where I worked, where I lived!

- And you, you sop-headed idiot,
fell for that and gave in to her.

What will you do when she become more
insistence, more curious?

How will you appease her then?

Read through those cases and see
how men have been hanged

- because women babbled.

- Read them again and see how
often a careless remark

- a rumour, a false suspicion...
- I'm sorry, Mr. Bancroft.

It was wrong of me.
I see that now.

But if I impress upon Angela
that she must never talk about this...

Then you give her a weapon with
which she can club you to death

and me too!

Don't forget by bringing her down here
you've placed both of us in jeopardy.

The first time she wants
to feel her strength,

the first time you quarrel,

she can start a toboggan
that will crush us!

You're right, Mr. Bancroft,
and I'm wrong.

How can I repair the
damage I've done?

Rick...it's not entirely your fault.

I must share in some of the blame.

I've allowed too much time to
lapse between treatments.

It's like everything else in life,
flowers wither without sun and water,

humans perish without food.

The will to serve unquestioningly,

the gift of true obedience,

these too need to be nourished
and reinforced.

Rick, look at me.

Roll up you sleeve.

Bend your arm.

Does anyone know about
your date with Angela tonight?

- No.
- Not even her parents, her closet friends?

No, sir. No-one.

- You're quite sure?
- Positive.

From the very beginning
we sort of made a pact.

I insisted on it. Not a word
about me. All our dates a secret,

until I found a way to tell you.

Well, you did use some
sound sense there.

Of course I never expected
it to happen like tonight.

Rick, when I command you to do things,
you know it's for your own good.

I understand.

As you know, I have no offspring,
no kin.

Yes, sir.

Some day all this will be yours.

Everything I possess...

My home, my money, my books, my files...
and our private Black Museum.

Yes, Mr. Bancroft.

As an authority on crime
you will go far beyond me.

You are sound of body, fleet of limb
and you have the gift of obedience.

Some day you will go deep
into the black soul of man.

Deeper than anyone on earth
and you will remember that

it was I who sent
you on that journey.

Yes, Mr. Bancroft.

Rick...

to prove how much confidence
I have in you now

I will let you in on something.

Of all the weapons in my museum,
our museum,

this is the most valuable.

It makes reality out of legend,
truth out of myth.

The world thinks that
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

were the figments of a
great writer's imagination.

but no...

I have clearly demonstrated
that it is a fact.

Man is born with a dual nature,
good and evil.

Society tries to suppress evil,
but not I, not you!

Rick, do you remember how it was
the last time and the time before that,

the freedom, the strength,
the black terror in others

but not in you?

- The mastery you shared with me!
- Yes.

All this will be ours once again.

Now listen carefully.

Your futures, my destiny, our very lives
are menaced by Angela

who stands in our way.

One must never put any trust
in a woman.

It was no accident that Satan
was able to tempt Eve before Adam.

- Now this woman...
- Yes, Mr. Bancroft?

Just follow my instructions
and it will be easy for you.

You will leave now
and take her to the fun fair.

- Watch where you're going.
- He didn't do it on purpose.

I don't like being pushed.

But it isn't like you
to be mean.

I'm sorry, Angela.
I lost my temper.

I'll make up for it.
We'll go on everything.

You know, Mr. Bancroft
advanced me next weeks' salary.

Don't you think that's
generous of him?

He may be generous,
but he frightens me.

The way he has authority.

You should see him with
the police, with his publishers.

He likes to get things done fast,
and his way too.

Oh, he makes that clear, the
way he orders you around.

From what I've learned from him
and from what I'll amount to in the end

it'll be worth it.

Come on, Angela,
let's enjoy ourselves.

Try your strength here and separate
the men from the boys.

Show the little ladies who wears
the pants in the house.

Ring the bell here
and you can ring it in the home!

You sir... you sir?
How about you young man?

You got any muscles or is that
just padding in your jacket?

Perhaps you can't lift
this heavy hammer.

Lift it! I can ring the bell!

Now take it easy.

- Don't bite off more than
you can chew.

This hammer's made of iron, you know,
not papier-maché!

We don't want any hospital cases.

Bad for business when they faint!

- I'll ring that bell.
- There's a hard one!

You'll ring the bell, will you?

You ring it and I'll give you the hammer
to take home as a souvenir.

Come on Rick.
Don't let him bully you.

- No, no. I'll show him.
- Now take it easy, lad.

Give yourself a chance.

- Why not for a starter...
- Don't tell me what to do.

Oh, he's done it!

You can keep your hammer!

Well, I'll be!

Rick dear, you're the one
who said to have fun.

If you get angry
you'll spoil everything.

I'm sorry, Angela.
He tried to make me a laughing stock.

I had to show him.

Perhaps it's working for Mr. Bancroft
that makes you so short tempered.

I think it's time you struck out on
your own or got another job.

- I'd like to see you tell him off.
- Leave me alone.

- Forget about my job and Mr. Bancroft.
- Okay.

It's a closed subject for tonight,
but please don't get angry.

Rick, let's go in the Tunnel of Love.

- Come on, give me another kiss.

- Marty, I told you
to leave me alone.

- You always want to come
into the Tunnel of Love.

- Come on, Annie.

- Please, I told you to get
your hands off me.

- You're worse than an octopus.
- Oh come on, Annie. Don't be like that.

- Nobody can see anything in here.

- Cheeky, he didn't think I'd like it.
- Oh, leave me alone will you!

- Go on your own side
and leave me alone.

- You always want to neck.
- Oh, Jimmy.

Well, look what the wind blew in!

His face is worse than ours!

Can I borrow your face,
I want to scare my boss?

There he goes!

Here's a d draft of my article
on unsolved murders.

I thought you might like
to check it before I print it.

That is considerate of you.

Are you concerned about us?

Perhaps we don't have
enough reading matter?

I'm concerned about the truth.

You've accused me of slanting my stuff.

Read this and tell me whether
or not I'm impartial.

Graham here. Yeah. Yes...

Yes, right at once.

They have the monster killer trapped.

Lodge, put out a flash to
all squad and patrol cars

to surround the fun fair at once.

A car with armed men to
leave with us immediately.

He's murdered another girl.

May I go with you?

If you like. Of course
it's your responsibility.

I want to go.
This story I must get first hand.

Perhaps he'll listen to reason.
We'd like to take him alive if we can.

Come down!

- We'll hold our fire if you come down.

We'll give you once more chance.
Come down.

Mr. Bancroft! Mr. Bancroft!

- He seems to know you.
- Kill him. Why don't you kill him?!

The man's a dangerous menace.

- Mr. Bancroft.

Mr. Bancroft, I did what you told me.

What are you waiting for?
Shoot him down!

I said shoot him down.
Kill him!

- This is bancroft's assistant.
- In more ways than one.

Edmond Bancroft...crime expert
and master criminal.

Now it becomes clear how
he could taunt us and delude us.

He created a reign of terror
so he could write about it.

Now the terror is over.

We can consider the case
of the monster killer closed.

Subtitles 2020 Noilly Prat