All language subtitles for Der Todesracher von Soho (1972) [BD25].en

I'd like my suitcase packed.

Tell the girl upstairs.

Maid! Come over here, quick!

I don't understand, Mr. Woods'
suitcase was already packed.

Strange.

He's freaking out.
He seems pretty scared.

Scared? Scared of what?

Lo'!

Put that away and call a cab
for Mr. Woods! Go on!

Hurry, you idiot!

A cab, please.

On it's way.

My suitcase is packed,
the cab's on its way...

Did my bill get paid by any chance?
Should I take the suitcase?

Yeah.

I have to disappoint you.
You'll have to pay it yourself.

We're not a bank.

Thank you very much, Sir.

Your cab's waiting.
Have a nice trip.

What happened?

What's going on?
Tell me what happened.

I can't picture it. You've been
holding me out of the picture

and I'd like to get into it, to put
my finger on the pulse of London.

Thank you, Sir,
thank you so much.

May I?

Thank you.

THE CORPSE
PACKS HIS BAGS

Sgt. McDowell speaking,
hurry please.

Did you find Inspector Redford?

Not yet, I've been searching
half of London for him.

So get going! These murder cases need
to be solved as quickly as possible!

Yes Sir!

Yes, McDowell speaking.

Evening!

Darling!

How are you?

Lola, honey, what are
you still doing here?

Longing for you...

And your fianc�?

We split up!

And your career?

Gave it up!

You're crazy! You're
a very promising artist!

That show with
the bunny ears

that was really something!

You're all the audience
I need, darling!

Better think about it.

Please let it ring!

I still have to think
about my career!

Redford.

What?

I'll be right there!
Sorry, gotta go.

I'll open it!

Hold it, you want to
open the door like that?

Want me to take it off?

Am I interupting something,
Mr. Redford?

That depends!

I found the model. An old Spanish
hunting rifle with a sawed off barrel.

Thanks, it'll be a big help.

Lord Salisbury was killed with such
a weapon while leaving Parliament.

It's got enormous stopping power.

And I thought you wanted
to shoot the Inspector.

No!

At least not right now!

Lola, meet Mr. Barton.

Nice to meet you!

Are you the Charles Barton,
the famous thriller author?

Here, Pay Up Or Die!,
The Stocking Strangler,

and Deadly Flight To Rio.

Yes, those are mine.

Are you his new secretary?

Well... listen, Barton,
I just got some news.

The knife thrower struck again.

Strange, always on a week-end.

Yes, and if I'm not at the crime scene
in half an hour, I'll be in trouble.

Better get going!

The gentleman in there is a doctor
who took care of the victim, Inspector.

How do you do, Sir?
I'm Inspector Redford.

My name is Bladmore,
I'm a doctor.

But there was nothing I could do.

The dagger went right
through his heart.

Who called you?

No one Inspector, no one.

I just happened to walk by and
saw the man drop to the floor.

From a distance, it looked like the man
had a heart attack or something like that.

Something like a knife-attack,
a.k.a. murder.

And who might you be?

That's none of your business!
I'm a photographer.

One of those brilliant creators
of images roaming the globe

looking for truth and
justice for all mankind!

Here I am now, entangled in
the fight against the underworld,

a witness of dramatic events!

Aren't you from Glasgow?

Yes.

Then you're Andy Dickens!

My name is Pickwick!

Who was that guy
always confusing it?

Ah now I remember, crazy
Ruppert Redford! Am I right?

Old chap! How wonderfully fate
happens to play out its hand!

What have you been up to?

Twenty years as a brilliant reporter
around the world spinning yarns,

summarizing, explaning, orienting,
exploring, documenting etc. etc. etc.

Stop that nonsense,
you shot pictures of the murder?

Indeed, are you going to arrest me?

Don't talk so much, join me.

Alright.

Where's the suitcase?

The suitcase is gone.

What?

Hands up!
Not one false move!

Very slowly.

What do you want
with my passport?

I wanted to find out if you're
really Charles Barton Benedett,

from Templeton in Texas.

What's it to you?

I spent 10 years in a very
uncomfortable hotel

whose only advantage was free room and
board courtesy of the state of Texas.

And I shared that fancy cell
with Charles Barton Benedett.

It's strange you don't
look like him at all.

And what are you
trying to tell me?

That you're using a false name.

I'm in a bad spot, financially.

But you're doing pretty good and
could afford losing a bill or two.

If you don't--

What if I don't?

Scotland Yard might take an interest in
the fact that famous writer Charles Barton

is running around with
a dead guy's name.

How did you find this place?

Do you think I'm stupid?

I read your name a bunch of times.

And I always knew
something was rotten.

And the proof is your passport.

Don't believe that means you
already won this game, buddy.

You're lucky Inspector Redford
wants to pay me a visit.

If you like, we could both
tell him our side of the story.

If you prefer running away, I suggest
you go back to where you came from

and never show your face again.

And if you're not reasonable,
I'll just shoot you dead

and the police wouldn't even
doubt I acted in self-defense.

So get lost!

I promise you, we'll meet again!

Please come in, gentlemen.

How are you doing,
my dear Barton?

I took the liberty of bringing a friend.
This is Mr. Picnic.

Good appetite!

Pickwick with a W.

Like I said.

Andy, this is my friend,
Charles Barton.

He became world famous with
one of his thriller novels.

I heard something about
three million copies.

You're exaggerating a little!

Without you as consultant,
I wouldn't be here today.

Let's get to the reason
for my visit.

When the murder took place last evening,
Andy happened to be on the scene.

Since he's a photographer,
he took a few pictures.

Don't you have
your own photo lab?

I wouldn't call it a
real photo lab.

From the darkness of your darkroom, the
unexpected will see the light of day

you won't believe your eyes!

Take Mr. Pickwick down to the photo lab,
I mean, darkroom, of course.

Yes.

Well, let's hear it, Redford.

The third murder in a
period of two months,

it always happens on week-ends.

It's strange. A man finds his bag packed
and moments later, he's murdered.

And in all cases, a dagger
was the murder weapon.

We found out it was thrown
from a great distance.

A curved oriental blade
in every case.

The culprit is an exceptional
talent in his field,

hitting the heart
with deadly precision.

There's no doubt this criminal
possesses a macabre sense of humor.

Why does he pack
his victims' bags?

He's giving them a hint they're about
to get killed, but why does he do it?

Maybe he wants them to panic, but why
does he have to pack the bags?

Why announce the
crime beforehand?

After the murder, there's nothing but
the simple fact that the bags are there.

This time, there was.

The bag disappeared.

Alright gentlemen, the case is solved!
Come on! Come on! Watch your step!

Come on, come on and see. It's clear
as day. The cab driver is the killer!

Here's the moment when the bag is stolen.
But there's only the thief's hand.

Circumstancialities for the D.A.

Let's see. The man
wore black gloves.

The hands on the negative
are as white as the bag.

Look here, this is
Dr. Bladmore.

A very transparent personality,
yet very mysterious.

Possibly. There's only a black glove
on the pictures, maybe it was his?

Yes?

How do you do?

How can I help you?

You could start by marrying me.

Sorry, I have a
tight schedule today.

Besides, it's my quark diet day.
I never get married on quark diet.

Oh, let's keep that door open!

Leave before I call the police!

That won't be necessary, my dear.

The police are already here.

That's different of course,

how was I to know a policeman
could be so funny?

Well, see? Even Scotland
Yard has a heart!

Is that so? And what's
the sweetheart longing for?

I'd like to speak to Dr. Bladmore.
Is he your father?

Oh no, he's my boss, and
nothing else. Come in.

At your service.

Doctor? A gentleman from the police
would like to talk to you. - Come in.

Ah, Inspector Redford,
what brings you here?

I'm sorry, Inspector, I thought
you were a simple...well...

I like to keep rank and
authority under the radar.

Stay! You can listen to what
Dr. Bladmore and I have to discuss.

Let's get started.
Please have a seat.

Did you see a black suitcase?

When?

Today.

I don't think we had a patient
with a black suitcase today.

Not a patient. You're the
one with the suitcase.

Dear Inspector, if you don't express
yourself more clearly, I won't be able--

We'll see about that, Doc,
so one more time,

did you see a black suitcase,
or didn't you?

Believe me, Inspector,
I have nothing to hide.

May I see your gloves?

But of course!

One moment, let me
get them for you.

They're black, aren't they?

How do you know that?

Strange pair of gloves.

They're very practical gloves.

You know inspector, my hands get
cold quickly. It's very annoying.

But with these gloves, I can
take out my medical instruments

or stuff my pipe but my
hands are still protected.

I see.

And a practical bag too.

Yes it is.

Then I think I'll be
leaving you now.

Are you disappointed?

No, why?

Well, because you just found out no
burglars or murderers inhabit this place.

Point for you, but better get
ready for my counter-attack.

I told you I'm not disappointed, I'm
just not sure if you're lying or not,

and are maybe hiding a
black suitcase around here.

Point for me. It's a draw.
Good evening.

Excuse me, I'm looking for Fisher St. 22,
is this the right place?

Yes, I'm the receptionist.
Who do you wish to see?

I was called by a certain... Ferencz.

You've come to the right place,
he's expecting you.

The poor man is terribly ill, he's on
the 3rd floor, just go up, it's open.

Come in, please.

Come closer! Closer!

How do you do?

You have to help me!

Of course, that's
why I came here.

You have to give me an
injection, Doctor, at once!

Right...

Stop it! I don't need
to be examined!

Well why did you call me then?
After all, I'm a Doctor.

One of my friends, his
name's Bart, once told me

if I ever need an injection,
just to call Dr. Bladmore.

Bart said that?

Yes, listen, I really need
that injection badly.

I need to hurry! I need to leave!
Didn't you hear of the knife-thrower?

What?

The one packing the bags?

Yes!

How are you involved?

I know I'm next! I need to leave this
filthy town! I have a wife and two kids!

But without an injection,
I won't be able to get up!

Well alright. Please relax and
pull up your sleeve.

Thank you. Thank you
very much, Doctor.

Thanks Doctor, I feel
better already.

I wouldn't have made
it much longer.

Oh, but the injection couldn't
even have had any effect yet.

Is this enough, Doctor?

Yes, yes, more than enough.

Get well, and have a
safe trip. Goodbye.

Goodbye, Doctor.

Please, can you take me to the
harbor? I need to board my ship!

Someone is after me!
I'm not going to the harbor!

Is the man dead?

And you saw the
man leave?

No, I didn't see him leave.
He didn't leave at all.

No one came down those
stairs after the Doctor left.

What Doctor?

Do I have to answer to
everyone around here?

You do to him, he's an
Inspector and my boss.

I thought he's a reporter,
and I can't stand them.

Why?

I can tell you, young man. I once put up
a classified add in the papers saying:

Mrs. Gurley, that's my name,
looking for errand boy.

And do you know
what they printed?

Mrs. Gurley, looking for deviant boy!
Now let me ask you, did I pay good money

to get some filth like that written
about me? That's the truth!

Like I said, Inspector. That Doctor was
the only one who came down the stairs.

How old was the man, 50?

Tall, with a moustache?

Was it him?

Have you lost your mind?
Put that filth away at once!

The merry broads of Windsor.

Pardon.

Was that him?

Yes, that's the one!

Answer at once!
Maccaroni or Spaghetti?

Spaghetti, even if you hold it against
me in a court of law. I like them better.

Chose your next answer carefully,
defendant, fish or meat?

Meat your honor. I hope you won't
send me to the gallows for that.

You're charming.

The way you say it makes it sound like
your interest is of personal nature

even though it really
is professional.

Are you ready to order?

May I suggest the Ravioli or
Cannelloni for starters?

Cannelloni.

Followed by Saltimbocca or
I can recommend the Pizzaiola.

Two of the last one, please.

You already selected your wine?

Yes, yes, thank you.

And now?

What do you mean?

Please tell me the truth.

I don't believe you invited
me here by accident.

Do you know what I'm thinking? There's
something you want to ask me.

And why here, of all places? Because
you're thinking that a good wine

might loosen my tongue a little bit,
even though I'm not sure why.

Unfortunately, you're wrong.

I selected this place because my friend,
the thriller author Charles Barton,

eats here every night, and
I'd like him to have dinner with us.

You're scared of being
alone with me, right?

Oh yes, very much so!

Since Barton is like a colleague, I wanted
him to be present during our conversation.

Because you were right about one thing,
Helen. I want to ask you something.

Well then go right ahead and ask.

Your boss has been seen twice with
the victims of the knife thrower.

Once at the hotel where
he helped Woods and

one more time, barely three hours ago,
when the knife-thrower killed again.

Dr. Bladmore visited the victim
only minutes before his death.

It's a little strange, but it could just as
well be a harmless coincidence, right?

Good evening, Mr. Barton.

Good evening.

They're expecting you, Mr. Barton.

Thank you.

Thank you.
Thank you very much.

So, Patakes, how's business?

Satisfied?

Come on, let's hear it.

Why shouldn't I be satisfied?
What I need, I get.

The Flamingo club.
That's the place to be.

How nice.

Good evening, Mr. Barton.

Good evening.

How are you doing?

Fine, and yourself?

Fine as well, thank you.

Do you want a private
booth with Millie?

Yes.

May I bring a bottle of champagne?

Yes, please do.

There. I hope you like it.
Please have a seat.

Yes.

Charles!

Hello, darling.

I thought you had
forgotten about me.

Come, sit down.

I thought you'd never
show up again.

It could've been that
you... kicked it.

No, no. I just can't do it.

What do you want?

I heard a scream and thought--

Are you from the Salvation Army?
Get lost!

It's none of your business!

Listen, she needs a doctor!

Buzz off!

Do you want to let her die?

Are you hard of hearing?
I told you to get lost!

But the girl is sick! You have to
stop her from taking drugs again!

Maybe you'll keep your dirty nose out
of other people's business now. Get out.

Come on, Charles.

Who's that girl?

Her name's Olga,
why do you ask?

No one can help her, she's
gone crazy from the stuff.

Yes, we're all going to end this way.
Every day, we need a stronger dose.

Until our brain fries and we even get
horrible nightmares in broad daylight!

And then we'll end up dying a
whimpering death in the gutter!

No! No! No! No!

Leave her alone, Charles!
Leave her alone!

Stay where you are!

Freeze!

She threw herself down.

Careful or this thing'll go off.

Close the door from the
outside, Millie. Right now!

What's wrong, Celia?

This guy has already
been here a few times.

Everytime it looked like
he was snooping around.

Tonight, he was in a
private booth with Millie.

He meddles with things
that don't concern him.

He walked in when the girl
jumped out the window.

So he's a snooper?

That's a dangerous occupation.
Very unhealthy.

You're right. At the moment,
you're the stronger ones.

So Mr. Barton, what is it
you're looking for here?

Your two sweethearts can confirm
I'm a client of your establishment.

I came here to get mescadrin,
just like every evening.

As a writer, it's in my
nature to be curious,

so when I heard screams, I came
over to look what's going on.

That's all.

I might even believe
you, Mr. Barton.

But be warned. I can get very unpleasant
when people meddle with my affairs.

Especially when they pretend a drug like
mescadrin can be purchased at my place.

No, Mr. Barton, it's a principle of mine
to stay out of these kinds of things.

Of course not. And the girl jumping
out the window was just a coincidence.

You'll end up talking yourself
into real trouble, Mr. Barton.

My friends will have a talk with you
now, so you can get a little preview.

Celia, handle it the usual way.

Let's go, Mr. Barton.

Taxi!

Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!

Stop here! Stop here!

Happy fishing!

Help! Help! I can't swim! Help! Hel--

What do you want? What do you want
from me? I haven't done anything!

All done.

That was your 24th sneeze.
Maybe you'll break world record.

Where's the man
I wanted to save?

I'm sorry...

...but we didn't find him.

Very nice weapons,
really excellent.

Where do these knives come from?

Based on the shape, I'd say they
could've been made in North Africa

but the weight of African daggers isn't
as precisely balanced as these.

So what's your opinion,
Mr. Gonzales?

Well, I used to work with
Turkish knives a while ago.

First class weapons. I'd say
these come from that region.

Definitely oriental, then.

Most certainly.

Your opinion is very important to us.
You heard of the knife thrower, right?

Yes, of course.

In most cases, the murders were commited
from a distance I'd call unusually big.

But each time, the killer hit his
target at the precision of a millimeter.

You couldn't shoot more precisely
with a gun. What would you say,

are we talking about a
professional knife thrower?

Without a doubt.

And about a better one than me,
or anyone I have ever met.

Thanks again.

You don't need to thank me. But if you find this man, I'd like to meet him.

He may be a murderer to you.

But he's also a brilliant
peer to me.

Gentlemen.

We're still completely
in the dark.

You're right. The whole
damned case is like a puzzle.

I asked you to accompany me to
demonstrate how difficult this case is.

A certain Durand from Paris, a German
from Frankfurt, this Woods from Hong Kong,

and now Ferencz, when he
tried to leave London.

Men of different professions, travelling
a lot, and who didn't know each other.

They're all on the same list now, because
they've been killed by the same man.

I need to get some fresh air, I feel
like bees are buzzing in my head.

Hello, Inspector!

I've looked for you everywhere!

Everywhere? Did you
fall in love with me?

I need to be careful. There's someone
who knows me sitting over there.

I found the suitcase!

What?

Yes. This morning, I wanted
to select a few dresses

and I found it hidden in a
compartment above the wardrobe.

I opened it. Clothes were in it,
and a package with syringes.

Based on the stickers, they're
filled with Papaverine.

Harmless nerve medicine. But I found
out it contains mescadrin instead!

The strongest drug won from opium.
Five times stronger than heroin.

Something else...

I know the doctor is keeping a
large amount of sample phials

of this so called Papaverine
in his office.

I took one and tested the
contents: Mescadrin!

And where was the doctor
during all this time?

I don't know for sure, but I
think he was making house calls.

But then, I heard a noise
outside by the door.

If the doctor had found me there, I...
What should I do? I'm desperate!

Now, now, crying
won't solve anything.

Sorry, but I'm terribly nervous.

I'm almost thinking you're
in love with the doctor.

Nonsense! I'm just starting
to understand everything...

...the connection between this story,
and what happened to Bennett.

Who's Bennett?

Bennett...

He was my husband. He was an
FBI agent. We lived in Houston.

He worked on a case involving
drugs. Mescadrin as well.

Somehow an unbelievable rumor started,
saying he was working with the criminals.

Proof was found, he was convicted
and sent to St. Louis prison.

He escaped from prison
and managed to get a car.

He died while crashing this car.
He burned to death

and couldn't even be identified.

When did your husband die?

It was about four years ago.

Was that the reason you
decided to come to Europe?

Yes, but not only that.

One day after Bennett's death,
I got a call from an unknown.

He didn't seem to know of Bennett's death
and asked: "Are you Bennett Reeds's wife?"

"Tell your husband to go to London.
To Dr. Bladmore." That's all he said.

I immediately went to London and got a job
with Dr. Bladmore to find out the truth.

But during one year, nothing
suspicious happened at all.

I don't understand you. At first you
hope and wait for something to happen

and now that the moment arrived,
you're crying like a little girl.

How could you understand? Everything
I wanted to forget just resurfaced!

Alive! I can't stand it anymore!

Are you ready to testify everything you
just told me in front of a judge?

Yes.

Good, follow me to Scotland Yard.

Have a seat here.

Be good and wait for me.

To the car boys!
The hunt is on!

To Bladmore's apartment!

It's my specialty.

That stuff will even
knock out an alcoholic.

Then it's just right for me!

I'd be careful, If I were you.

Here. There you go.

Thank you.

Hello?

McDowell speaking.
No trace of Bladmore yet.

Well, like I thought,
keep looking.

Really a nice, quiet evening.

Pickwick, on her Majesty's secret service!
Nice to meet you. The case is solved.

Charming. Your sister?

No, no. The bride of Messina.

And the truck driver
is the killer.

Who's that?

The one shady country folks
tossed into the water.

Did you see who it was?

The winding paths of your brain
are strange and unfathomable.

If I captured his optical likeness,
I'd have to have seen him, right?

That's Charles Barton!

Barton?

Right! Barton!

When did you take that picture?
Where's Barton now?

After the waves swallowed him, I leapt
into the wetness, but find him, I did not.

Uh-huh.

Redford. Could I speak
to Mr. Barton?

No, I'm sorry, Sir.

Do you know what
happened last night?

It is my principle not to get involved
in Mr. Barton's private affairs, Sir.

He's still alive?

Judging by his call
half an hour ago. Yes.

Didn't he tell you where he is, or
something else that could help me?

No, I'm sorry, Sir. Wait!
I did notice something.

He did sneeze an awful lot.

Thank you.

The car is here.

And what about me?

I'll take a few pigeons along to keep
you updated, Andy. Goodbye.

Oh, did you prepare
the bed for Helen?

Should I change her
diapers as well?

Nonsense!

Wait! How long will she stay?

As long as she wants.

Little affair?

No, the love of my life.

You don't even need
to come back!

Yes? Yes, one moment please.

McDowell speaking!
-I need to contact FBI headquarters.

I need all files about an FBI agent called
Bennett Reeds, who died four years ago.

Yes Sir!

We also need to ask Interpol in Turkey
who could've manufactured the knives

and if they've been
manufactured there at all.

If possible, they should give us the
name of the person who ordered them.

Yes Sir.

Oh, by the way. Your girlfriend
packed her bags and left.

What's that nonsense?

She left the following pamphlet for you:
"You can go to hell for all I care - Lola."

Free at last!

No, you're wrong.
Helen is still there.

She's sleeping as if she made
your place her castle.

Say, Mc Dowell, any news about
the disappearance of Bladmore?

No, Inspector, nothing. Looks
like he vanished into thin air.

Oh well, goodbye, lad.

Salve, my emperor.

What's wrong, Inspector?

Would you explain
how you got in here?

I mean, your behavior
is quite unusual.

I came in through the window.

You better call the police.

Coming!

You probably want to live
a little longer, right?

I...

May I ask for your arm?

But...

Sorry, but I doubt you'll be
talking to me voluntarily.

What do you want?
I don't know anything!

Now...

Either you talk or I'll light this
match and throw it on your bed.

And if you scream...

...I'll light the match too.

What...?

What do you want to know?

I want to know where you
get the mescadrin from.

I don't know what
you're talking about!

It's easy. I want to know who sells you
the mescadrin, and how it gets to you.

I don't know!
I swear I don't know!

If you don't answer before I burn my
fingers, I'm gonna do what I told you.

I swear I don't know anything.
You have to believe me!

You have about
two seconds before I...

Wait! I'll tell you what I know!

The truth, and hurry!

I don't know where the mescadrin comes
from, but I know how it gets to us.

It's a different vehicle every time.

One time it's the beverage truck,
another time the cleaner's truck.

When's the next shipment?

Tomorrow!

And who's bringing
it this time?

They told us yesterday. It's always
the same voice. It only said

the car bringing the pastries will
bring our merchandise at 4 o'clock.

That's 4 a.m. of course.

Mescadrin and whipped cream, hmm?

Wait! You can't leave me--

Do what I tell you and
you won't get hurt.

You'll stop in front of the Flamingo
club and drop the package at the door.

Which...which package are
you supposed to deliver?

When you dropped it off, you immediately
return to the truck and drive away.

The gun is always pointed at you. Give me
any trouble and I'll end you right there.

You know what to do!

Keep driving!

What else do you want?
Is it still far away?

No.

You can stop for all I care, so
I can bash your skull in more easily

and bury you where
no one will find you.

What do you want from me?

What have I done to you?

Tell me who manufactures the stuff!

I don't understand.
The Simson bakery.

Are they baking mescadrin cakes?

Tell me who you work for!
Tell me who sent you!

I have nothing to hide.
I'm just a small-time driver.

What's in the packages
is none of my business.

But one thing's your business:
You're getting paid to be a driver.

Yes, by a shipping company working for
different clients. Cleaners, flower shops.

Who owns the company?

A certain Smith hired me--

I heard the owner is a certain Cronsdale.
A Lord or something like that.

That's all I know, even if you beat
me to death. I'm just small-time!

Oh I know that!
A charming, innocent boy!

Here at Barton's.

Could I speak to Mr. Barton?

Well, I don't know...

Listen, tell him it's
about Bennett Reeds.

One moment please...

Yes, hello?

Mr. Barton?

Yes, what is it?

Listen carefully.

I want to meet with you in St. Benedict
church, sit down in the last row.

It'll be interesting to you.

I'm not convinced yet.

You will be, I'm the
widow of Bennett Reeds.

Bennett!

Come on, we can't talk here.

The situation is confusing, for the
following reasons, listen carefully.

On my way to you, I saw Helen leave your
fortress and followed her, courageously.

I now stand in the shadow of St. Benedict
church, where Helen secretly met a man.

The man is Barton.
What, are you crazy? Barton?

Stay where you are,
I'll be right there!

Oh, I'm sorry, Sir!

Any progress, Redford?

I either solved the case soon, or
I'll willingly jump into River Thames!

Andy, are they still there?

Look, they're standing over there!

Thanks ol'chap, you really
helped me out here.

You're welcome, good luck!

Need a cab, my dear?

Come on!

Don't worry, I don't bite.

What are you doing here?

Are you following me?

Yes, I'm the jealous type.

What's the connection between
you and Barton?

Did you see us?

Yes.

Oh, stop crying...

Stop the car at once!

Are you offended now?

I sure won't stop the car!

I'm not your friend, but Inspector
Redford who has a damned case to solve!

Alright, Inspector. Barton is my husband.
We talked on the phone, and then we met.

And why didn't he
call you earlier?

I don't understand it eith--

So Charles Barton's real name is...

Yes, his real name is Bennett Reeds.

He got the papers with the name Charles
Barton from a convict. I don't know why--

And he won't tell you voluntarily!
But why didn't he call you earlier?

I'm sorry, I don't know.

Maybe he's involved in something terrible
and was afraid I would betray him.

Come on, stop crying and tell me
the whole thing from the beginning.

I told you everything I know.

He called me this morning
and talked to me,

as if it was completely normal to be
back from the dead after two years.

Now he's alive and it's all even worse. I
wish he really burned to death in the car.

What did he want?

He asked me to leave London.

He wants to stop me
from seeing you again.

I don't know how, but he somehow found
out you got his files from the FBI.

I see, he's afraid the case
will be re-opened.

Please, Inspector, I'm telling you what
I know but he can never find out!

He's capable of killing me.

Don't you worry. Go back to
my place and don't leave.

Yes. Thank you. You've
helped me a great deal.

Helen!

Now that you have him back,
do you think you still love him?

No.

Where is my niece?

She went horseback riding this morning,
Sir, but should be back soon.

I already am, Archibald!

How are you today?

Getting up in the morning becomes a
greater sacrifice with every passing day.

Only the music makes
it all bearable for me.

Archibald, you may go now.

By the way. Someone put
a bomb in front of the club.

How much damage?

Nothing major, as far as I know.

Well then it's no big--
what's this piece of paper?!

Who put it there?

I don't know, uncle.

Stop that nonsense!

We're alone, you don't need to
call me uncle! Come here!

But, aren't you my real uncle?

More than that, I hope.

Durand, Schultz, Woods, Ferencz?

Lord Cronsdale is next?

Who brought this?

Archibald!

Who brought this?

I don't know, sorry Sir.

Who put it on my desk?!

Who put this here?!

I swear I don't know, Sir!

We won't need you
anymore, Archibald.

We better get out of this business.
Your Helen got us in real trouble.

Yes. But... Why did she analyze
the Papaverine phials?

I know why. Because she's
working with the police.

Go to her. Bring her here!

That's it. Come on.

Did you hear that?

It must've been something
on the road.

You should see a
neurologist, my dear.

Did you crap your pants again?

I really needed that...

Of course we investigated it.
Hold the line, please...

McDowell speaking. What?
Impossible, he's locked up in Dartmoor.

Hello? Yes?

Yes, I'll take care of--
Anything new?

No Sir, no news from the Inspector. The
entire world is calling and I'm compl--

Yes, hello? No!
What can I do?

We're all sitting here, waiting
for the Inspector's call.

I'm starting to think
he left on a vacation.

Well...

No, Sir, I haven't.

Oh, Sir, we have an answer from Turkey.

Really?

From Interpol. A weaponsmith from
Anatolia manufactured 12 daggers

for a circus-artist.
The man is called Ponco.

He came to England two years ago, started
working at a circus and quit soon after.

I spoke to the director and he
told me Ponco is in London now.

We also got a Telex from the
FBI in Washington.

A convict named Charles Barton
died years ago

and Bennett Reeds's body
was never identified.

He was burned beyond recognition.

Someone's playing tricks on us.

You're no too hard to trick.

We need to find this man,
no matter what.

Even if I have to turn the
British Islands on their head!

Our goldfish has arrived.

Oh...

I don't feel like it...

You take care of her. I'll be
in the lab. See you later.

Listen Celia...

I've decided to give up
the Flamingo club.

This turf is becoming too
risky for our business.

But I intend to open a
new establishment in Rio.

There, we will increase
production a hundred percent.

My niece, you, and Roger are leaving the
day after tomorrow to set it up, alright?

Well, how are we feeling?

Not too well, after
all you've done, I imagine.

You started something that
may end up killing you.

Did you want to take
over the business?

Well of course not. Looking at you,
I wouldn't think so either.

It was quite stupid of you to
get involved in something like this.

You'll die for your stupidity. We can't
allow you to tell the police what you know.

What a waste. A pretty girl like you
could've done so much with her life.

You can't just
kill me like that.

Yes we can, my child. You chose to mess
with us, and now you're getting burned!

Do you think we're stupid?

Your life means nothing to us.
Silencing you is all that matters.

But first, you'll tell me what you know.
What the Inspector knows.

I don't know anything!
You have to believe me!

I have ways of making you talk, kid!

I...!

Talk!

Open your mouth! I'll rip the skin off your
face in ribbons! Believe me! Now talk!

I'll torture you until you'd rather
die! You better think about it!

Thank you, Sir.
Thank you so much.

I hope you didn't forget what
is supposed to happen tonight.

How could I forget, Sir?

My night. My big chance.

When it all turns out
the way we expected, then...

...then I won't be a
poor man anymore.

Very smart.

So do what you have to do.

I will, Sir. You can count on it.

Redford?

Thank heaven for reaching you!

Wait, where are you? Home?

No, but in good hands.

You know, I'm with a
good samaritan in Kensington.

A fair maiden. You won't
believe what took place!

While I slept, a man and a woman
abducted Helen from your apartment.

Did you recognize them?

No, but in the darkness...
-What?

I climbed on top of the gangster
couple's car. - Keep talking!

And well... I fell off.
- That is so like you.

Give me the address.

Where am I, fair child?

At the King's Crown in
Kensington, sweetie.

The King's Crown in Kensington.
A not quite aristocratic establishment.

Pretty much at the rear end of town.

Alright, I'll pick you up
right away.

In the meantime, think about
where they could've taken Helen.

Oh, and thank you.

Should I come along?

No.

Should I do anything else?

Sure! Have a big drink
on my health!

Yes! Thanks!

I faintly remember
you promising me

you'd jump into the River Thames
if you don't solve the case.

Better put on your swimming trunks.

The case will be solved today, Sir!

Linda!

Linda!

Archibald!

Let's go to the back!

Helen!

At last! I will destroy this drug,
just like it destroyed the people!

Freeze!

Freeze, Barton!

Stop!

Stop, Barton, give up!

The game's over.

And you lost it.

Once and for all.

We used to be friends, Barton.

I don't want to kill you.

Don't come any closer.

I'm warning you!
I'll shoot without mercy!

Go away!

Go away!

Drop the gun, Barton.

It's useless.

You had your revenge, Barton.

Your goal was to destroy the men
who ruined your life with mescadrin.

And you reached it.

But it's over now!

No, you won't get me. I'll kill
every last one of you first!

I need a gun!

Listen, they're outside!

Ah, Sergeant, come in, please!

Let's go, people!

What's wrong? Pickwick stands for
precision. Almost like the knife-thrower.

Just almost, thank God!