Original subtitles

Peanuts?

I'll make some, and perhaps you'll change your mind.

Drink?

My father thrilled for me.

The song sung by Stevie Jones.

Ever heard of her?

Nobody ever has.

Nobody ever will.

In the light of a holly -colored moon.

Let one sweet hour of love bloom like a flower of love.

Find your eyes and the bright golden light of a honey -colored moon.

A pathway on the sea, shining purple moonlight.

Meant to be a road that I knew.

I was meant with love.

Let the moon above met me for me and you.

And I knew life had become a blur.

Don't touch me.

Don't touch me.

Don't touch me.

Don't touch me.

I was meant with love.

Let the moon above met me and you.

I suppose Tamsi's books are exciting, but of course he can't ride.

He doesn't have to.

He uses a picture for it.

It's a kind of 21st birthday.

What?

Yes, Tamsi's 21st book is out today.

What's it called?

Death Under the Arches.

Any titles they get for these things, Tamsi?

Thanks.

Can I get you a drink?

No, thanks.

I'm just going.

Already?

This kind of party brings a rush of something to my head.

A rush of what?

Apropos.

Really?

Why did you come?

I didn't.

I fell into it.

Maxi dragged me here by the hair almost.

I don't even know who's giving the party,

except I gather it's something to do with her.

Yes, it's his 21st book.

What energy.

What talent.

He was agent of something.

I've just read the last chapter.

It's usual to begin at the other end.

I don't have to.

I can always guess the solution of this kind of thing after reading the first

two or three pages, so I can skip the next 200.

Muddest little thing, aren't you?

Have one of these.

Thanks.

You know, I could write that kind of thing in my sleep.

Really?

Do you know something about these detective writers?

If ever they came across a crime in real life,

their only hope of solving it would be if the murderer tattooed his name at a

dress on the body and his telephone number.

How do you come by this, superior act of yours?

I don't know, act.

You see, I learned my crime firsthand.

Oh, your...

My crime important.

Is your name by any chance penny -certain?

What's yours?

Fancy green.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

This is what they call an awkward moment, isn't it?

Shall I just sleep unobtrusively away?

No, stop.

Just stay and brazen it out.

I think...

I think I could probably learn a lot from you.

Tell you what I'll do.

Next case I'm on, I'll take you along.

Thanks, thanks very much.

Sort of show you the ropes.

Yeah, kind of you.

And I really must be going.

I have to get back to the office.

And that's a lie.

How'd you know?

A shade too glib.

We always used to make it sound more urgent when I was in Fleet Street.

Oh, were you in Fleet Street?

Mm -hmm, six years.

What do you mean?

Crime reporter.

Oh.

Oh, well, now I think I really will be going in.

Good evening.

Next time you take me to a party, tell me where we're going, whose house it is,

and what they do for a living.

Hello?

Hello?

Well, listen, old chap, I'm afraid you've got...

I can't.

I can't.

Why, sure.

Okay.

But what was that number of yours again?

A 175.

Of course.

Pepsi, look after everything here.

Will you see that everybody has drinks and things?

Hold the baby.

Oh, no, you don't.

The last time you went chasing out after a girl...

Who's chasing after anybody?

Now, be a good host, sweetie pie.

Put poison in there and drink.

Anything you like.

Enjoy yourself.

Thanks, pal.

Oh, it's you.

Sorry.

Driver, 175 Greek Street.

Quick as you can make it.

Yeah, this sort of thing may work in your novels, but it's never.

It's in real life.

Okay, Greek Street.

I'm merely taking you at your word.

Listen.

You said the next time you went on a story, you'd take me, show me the ropes.

But I'm not going on a story.

Oh, yes, you are.

At least I am.

I got a phone call.

What a name for me.

A thick, scared voice, afraid of its own sound.

You've been reading death under the arches.

Say?

To come to one's head.

75 Creek Street right away.

There'd been a murder.

You fell for it.

Sure.

Tom, what are you doing here?

Oh, what do you think?

I live here.

I haven't seen you for months.

Well, why don't you come to the club?

I've been too busy.

Haven't come to see me, have you?

No, no.

We're looking for a chap called...

O 'Connor.

Never heard of him.

Didn't you look at the bells?

I couldn't make out the names.

Tell me, what kind of unholy allowance is there in this place?

Thank you.

Well, I've got nobody in here, Tamsi.

You know me, I wouldn't.

I mean in this house.

What goes on here?

Oh, you mean them noises.

Don't ask me.

I got a lease.

But I'm getting out at the end of this week.

You've got to hang on to your hair in this place in case it's lifted right off

the head.

Oh, yeah?

Oh, that's my, uh, brother.

He's just off a boat and was hanging around loose.

I had to take him in.

Yes, of course.

How many floors are there above him?

Two in an attic.

Why don't you come to the club more often, Tamsi?

The girls are always asking, where's Tamsi that he doesn't turn up nowadays?

Oh, your brother's getting anxious.

Yes.

So long.

See you soon.

Goodbye.

Bye.

Well, do we go up, or don't we?

I'm afraid I'll get to know more of your private life.

Come on.

Well, Tamsi, if he never shows up nowadays...

Oh, didn't you know, girl,

Tamsi's just a flying squad since all this time chasing...

Hold on to Daddy, dear.

You'll be all right.

Well?

Oh.

Uh, is this Mr...

Mr.

Robinson's?

No.

Well, where do we go now, up or down?

Oh, I can face anything now.

Jack the Ripper, if you like.

Oh.

Oh.

What is it?

I thought it was a ring.

Let's have a look.

What is a ring now?

You better keep it.

I'm going to.

Mr...

Look, I don't...

I know, Harlem J.

Nash from Idaho, that's me.

Oh, I see.

Well, try the next floor down, or maybe you're the wrong house.

Sorry?

There's nobody upstairs.

Well, thanks for the scoop.

See you at the front page tomorrow.

Sorry.

Let's go back to the party.

I think I have an apology on the way.

You can skip the apology and get me a drink,

but it'll have to be a very special one.

Do you see what I see, or is there a light up there?

You must have made a mistake.

Come on.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Top floor, 175 Greek Street.

Stockings tight from the neck.

Stand by for your story, Penny.

Heaven knows we need it.

We haven't got a darn thing.

The front page is a poultice.

Tom!

Tom!

Take the dutchess that's divorced off the front page and put it where she'll

have to hunt for it.

175 Greek Street.

No!

Nobody told me.

I went there with a girl.

Well, pardon me if I don't see the joke.

We don't joke about murder at Scotland Yard.

I was merely saying...

And listen, Mac.

I don't want to get mixed up in this.

Don't worry.

You won't be.

We're not going to advertise your books at the expense of Scotland Yard.

Where shall I find you?

There's a cafe next door.

I'll be looking after you, then.

If Mac thinks you're anything to do with the press,

you'll shut up back at Clam.

I'll, um...

I'll have to pass you up as a friend.

If you think I'm the type of this, I can put on quite an act for you.

Aren't you gonna show up again at the club, Tansy?

No wonder girls get down here.

Oh, ho, ho.

You're ginger, aren't you?

Yes.

Joey, it tells me you won't have a word with me.

That's right.

Sit down.

Just love one of the family, eh?

And that's all you know.

Smoke me, Bob Gubbler.

Hmm, thanks, Gubbler.

When I've had this, I'll get back to my fingernails.

Cool, what a night.

I like it.

Yes, beautiful.

Visibility practically nil.

Who wants visibility?

Listen to him.

He's always got a bit different to everyone else.

She got you taped, Joe.

Nobody's got me taped.

Look at that fog out there.

Comes down over London as though the Almighty was sick and tired of its noise

and din.

The people creep about the street.

Everything's quiet and sly because nothing's real till the fog goes again.

See what I mean?

Quite.

Thought you would.

Of course, strike me on, fanny round the houses.

Has he always talked back then?

Depends on who's listening to him.

Come on, Ginger.

We're going into 175.

Oh, not in your life, Governor.

Being outside that house gives me the creeps.

Well, those are what the inside would do to me.

Oh, outside?

The noises that come from it.

Strike a light.

You ask anybody in the street.

Come on, Ginger.

Here.

Cool.

Go.

Go on.

Nothing.

Drink it up.

Come on.

Will you stop here?

If anyone looks like you're using the phone, get away in first.

Cool.

Trust me on fanny round the houses.

And don't you be flippant.

You're in on the story of your life.

Not off.

I'm not making it.

Yeah, you're hopeless.

Well, time's in.

I told you.

I went into the room by the surest chance, and there she was,

stretched out like a rug and saw she was dead.

Step as a rabbit.

Who's this?

Ginger Harrison.

He's had to go with peanuts this evening.

She went into 175 with a man.

He could identify her.

Last to see her alive, what?

George, come with me.

He'll stay at the door.

Tell him.

It's in here, Matt.

Oh, Mac, at this moment, you could knock me down with a feather.

I'm sorry, but I haven't got a feather.

She was lying exactly here.

Her head bare, her feet bare, and the stocking round her neck.

Don't worry, Tamsay.

This isn't the first time there's been a murder and no body,

but we all find it all right.

We always do.

Nip down to the yard.

Have a look around.

A yard, sir?

Not Scotland Yard, you idiot.

This yard.

See what you can see.

Might put somebody off their game, sir.

I'll risk there.

Good.

You know, Temsley, murder is comparatively simple,

but it's a very difficult matter to hide the body,

which is what every murderer would like to do.

Sooner or later, it turns up, gives up all its secrets.

There's very little mystery about crime, you know.

Oh, don't say things like that, Mac.

You're striking at the very heart of the crime -writing industry.

I can't help it, my boy.

As a rule,

the body denounces its murderer almost as plainly as if he can speak.

School's me judge my peanuts.

What peanuts?

The ones I sold to her.

Oh, and then she came in here, I suppose.

Yes.

With a man.

That's right.

And he came out about five minutes later,

because I remember thinking of himself.

We're not interested in your thoughts, Mr.

Harris.

No, sir.

I don't suppose they're any more edifying than your peanuts.

No, sir.

Of course.

I've talked about 30 degrees.

What else do you know?

Well, not another thing's shortly, Bob.

Except this is a funny house.

People pop in a murder folk and pop off,

and the screams and corpses will walk out on you.

All right, all right, all right.

Which isn't all right.

It's all wrong if you ask me.

Well, I haven't.

Haven't what?

Asked you.

Will you be quiet?

It's not me.

There's democracy for you.

Did you know this girl?

Whoa.

Just to pass the time of day to.

Did you know her name?

No, sir.

Do you think you could turn the beacon light of your intelligence onto the

recollection of the girl's escort?

What, sir?

The man she was with?

Well, it was about that height.

Not too fat.

No work seen either.

Dark, I think, or a kind of brown.

You must have seen his passport.

Oh, no, sir, I never.

Would he be wearing an overcoat?

Yes.

And a hat?

Yes, pulled down over his eyes.

And a sword and a cloak, I suppose.

Oh, no, sir, nothing fancy.

Well, Tamsi, all we've got to find, apart from the body,

is a man with an overcoat and a hat.

Your friend's got X -ray eyes.

I don't know how fancy he himself.

Didn't ought to be walking on common ground like us, mate.

He ought to be at the top of Nelson's column.

Mind the pigeons.

I'd learn him.

Any acquaintance of yours in here?

No.

And it must be either a woman over 40 or a man.

It's a man?

Over 40, an American.

Gone into his winter sleep.

I've been hated.

Cool.

If only old Fred had had one of those.

Who's Fred?

My brother.

He's in Jug.

Why?

Because he hadn't one of them.

Oh, keeps a room that doesn't sleep in it.

Very ritzy taste in cigars.

Unfamiliar brand, but nice looking tobacco.

Have one.

Not so far.

Oh, I say, look at this.

Nation, Connors, New Yorker.

Well, what about it?

It's not the sort of reading you'd expect from a chap living in a dump like

this.

Not a funny people living so low.

If you're not careful, you'll be joining your brother Fred in my lab.

Cool.

Let's try the floor below.

Well, we'll leave.

things as we found them.

Let me make you sick.

Cool.

Cool.

For heaven's sake stop saying cool.

Come and tell him enjoy a joke if he wants to.

Open up, police.

Blimey, don't half lock himself up for the night.

Oh, we've met before, I think.

Never?

I beg your pardon.

You may have seen me.

I'm not aware that you've ever been presented to me.

You're Mark Stuberg, the actor.

Sir Mark Stuberg.

Arise, Sir Mark, and accept the reward of every great Shakespearean actor.

Alas, poor Yorick.

I knew him.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

Go in, we want to talk to you.

Come in, come in, come in, come in, come in, come in, come in.

Well, well, well, well.

Have you seen or heard anything out of the ordinary tonight?

I always see and hear extraordinary things.

Haven't got a body hidden away by any chance, have you?

Oh, yes.

I've got bodies.

Five of them.

Shh.

Five dramatic critics.

They're not quite dead, but they soon will be.

Quite soon.

Ha, ha, ha.

Shh.

Where are these bodies of yours, Truburg?

Sir Mark, if you please.

I'll show you.

Thou canst not say I did it.

Never shake thy gory locks at me.

Christ.

This is the evening standard critic.

This is the news.

This?

Yes, this is the times.

He's pretty far gone.

That's Iva Brown of the Observer.

This?

This?

James Egan.

He's in a bad way.

A very bad way.

They're mine.

You can't have them.

That's all right.

We don't want them.

Come on.

The want begun.

Thou hast set me on the wake.

Why?

Bobby!

Bobby, look me with that star to him, would you?

A friend of yours?

I've run across him before.

Is he, sir, mine?

Oh, no.

He used to be on the hall.

And he's one of those blokes from the freak memory.

The audience used to ask him dates and things, and he never failed.

He was billed as the great noble.

Then it struck him that he could act,

so he started a repertory company with himself as a star.

Flop lost all his money, and funnily enough, lost his memory, too.

How do you love him?

Oh, he's made himself a bit of a nuisance now and again.

Dangerous?

In what way?

Well, uh, homicidal, perhaps.

And we don't know.

Yet.

Who lives here?

A girl.

She works at the Orange Grove nightclub across the street.

Oh, what do you mean, old man?

I didn't know till tonight that she lives here.

Oh, hello, kid.

Sorry to worry you again.

That's all right.

This is Detective Inspector McKenzie.

What do you think you're up to, Kenzie?

I'm in a hurry.

I've got a date for the Lord.

Well, I wouldn't deprive the aristocracy of its established privileges,

but I'd like a word with you before you go.

All right, come in.

Excuse me, but I'm late already.

That's all right, you carry on.

Do you mind if I sit down, Miss...

Just call me Tanya.

All the boys do.

The Inspector isn't one of the boys, Tanya.

What's your other name?

Smith.

Times, you bet you better explain to Miss Smith.

Well, listen, kid,

tonight I got a call from somebody who mistook me for somebody else.

Why, no, that kind of guy.

I don't interrupt.

This person asked me to come along here, so I came, and I called on everyone.

Including me.

Including you.

And upstairs in the attic, I found the body of a girl.

Body?

Yes, strangled.

But you're kidding, Tamsi.

You mean the strangle's been here in this house?

Probably, but the body's gone.

Oh, you are kidding.

I know.

I'm not going to stay in this house another minute.

It was bad enough before.

How do you mean?

Haunted or something.

The strangest things happen.

You're chilling us.

I'm going now.

Good night, old.

Heard anything out of the ordinary tonight?

Not for not bell ringing and a little chain rattling.

Everything's been very peaceful.

Lummy, this is the queerest house I've ever been in, and no mistake.

That's no mistake.

The queerest people seem to be here.

That's right, mate.

We're here.

I've looked around the yard, so there's nothing there.

Well, nothing's got anything to do with this case.

Well, we'll get on with our inquiries.

I'll let you know, Tamsi, when the body turns up.

Well, where's my story?

My story tonight.

Huh?

The body's gone.

What are you talking about?

Bodies don't disappear.

Except in the thrillers you write.

In this one hand.

What does he expect to say?

Oh, he isn't worried.

Not worried.

No, he says it'll turn up.

Just like this.

It'll turn up.

And in the meantime, I suppose, I have to call up the office and say, sorry,

boys.

No story tonight.

We have to wait for a body.

Yes, dear.

And it does just love being led up the garden, don't they?

Where's that telephone?

Oi.

What?

Nothing.

Oh.

Thank you.

Well, come on.

Let's have your ideas, both of them.

Young girl found dead in flat.

What do you think we're trying to do with the story?

Hush it up.

How about the killer strikes again?

No, no.

That won't do.

I have it.

Soho killer strikes again.

Yes, that's it.

Hello?

Yes, Penny?

What?

But it can't.

It can't, not at this time of night,

why we've held back the third edition for it.

It's no good saying it can't.

It has.

Now, see here, Penny.

She's not going to get away with it.

You're not going to let her get away with it.

She's dead and she's got to stay dead.

Unless she shows up dead by tomorrow morning, you're fired.

You understand me?

Fired.

Put that cow's divorce back on the front page.

Well, who taught you to play like that, Joe?

Nobody teaches me anything.

I teach myself.

Like it?

Yeah, I thought it was pretty good.

I asked her.

Hmm?

Sorry.

Yes, I liked it.

I'll play her some more sometime.

And he thinks this place is a clobbery and he's the star performer.

Who said?

Plonk, plonk, plonk.

Whenever there's any work to do, one of these days I'd bash it over your head.

If you listen to her long enough, you'll know all about me.

Perhaps, perhaps.

Tell me, Joe, have you seen any cars or taxis hanging around here tonight?

Visibility, no.

Have there been any suspicious -looking customers?

Yes.

Two.

They brought a body into the house across the road.

They did.

Well, nothing unusual about that, of course.

It was a drag.

Come on, let's go.

I've got a gas for small.

Good boy, Joe.

There's only two things to do with that kind.

Keep your mouth shut, or I'll shut theirs.

You'll leave it to Joe to know what to do.

I'm smart, me.

Oh, there's your girlfriend, Tanya.

I see.

See what?

So this is the job she was talking about.

Yes.

Yes, I used to come here quite a lot for copies of my books.

You'd be surprised what a lot these girls know.

I'm sure.

I'd, um, I'd like to bring Tanya over here.

Joe, can I support you?

Excuse me.

I can't hear anything.

So I thought perhaps you'd join us and tell us all you know about this house of

yours.

How about the man at Hatter on the second floor?

Oh, him.

He's harmless.

And who owns the place?

Who do you pay your rent to?

Now you've got me on the spot, Tansy, because I don't pay my own rent.

Why, should you?

That's what I think.

There's another man on the third floor about to force you rather bald with an

American accent.

Oh, yes, I've met him on the stairs.

Spoken to him?

No, he kind of made a pass at me, but I sized him up, down and out,

living from hand to mouth.

What I want is security.

When he opened the door to us this evening,

he looked as if he'd been standing behind it.

Maybe he's one of those keyhole guys.

Or any key trouble to look for his own keyhole.

He told us there was no one on the top floor.

He wouldn't know.

Nobody knows anything about anybody else that lives in a house like that.

It's just as well, too.

May I have a pleasure?

Yes, sir.

Nice little child of nature, Tanya.

Innocence, like Mata Hari.

You know, you independent women miss a lot in life.

What?

Well, your rent, for instance.

When I find mine a strain, I'll let you know.

I'll live for that day.

What are you going to eat?

I don't know.

It's been a funny sort of evening, hasn't it?

Even if you didn't get your story, that fried chicken here is very good.

Perhaps I'll have some.

You know, I can't help wondering about that other man, the American.

I wonder just how much he knows.

Or any of them.

That crazy actor bloke, or even Tanya, or the man she said was her brother.

Yes,

but then none of them could have carried the body downstairs and out of the

house.

I don't know.

It beats me.

Yes, I think...

I think fried chicken's a good idea.

Well, here's to murder, with or without bodies.

Hello.

Am I alone?

No, Mac.

My room's full of dancing girls, and I'm reclining on a gold couch.

I wouldn't put it past you.

Can you remember what that girl had on last night?

No, not that one.

No, the one you found on the floor.

A green dress, gold dangle on the right wrist, and a paste brooch.

Yes, and a greener belt and a gold buckle.

I thought you'd like to know that we found the body this morning on the steps

of the Athenaeum Club.

What?

That's not possible.

Only bishops go there.

Possible or not, that's where she was.

You better come round here.

I shall want you to identify the body.

That'll be fun.

Thank you.

Good story, Penny.

I know.

Oh, it's not as good as all that.

They'd like something.

Women can't write about crime with the authority.

Jealous?

No.

But I don't think your line is crime.

What then?

Ways with rice?

Yes.

Or better babies for better mothers.

Have you been telling her that your mother came from Ireland?

Well, we found out something about that girl.

What?

Of course, you're from the press I keep forgetting.

I am the most discreet woman in Fleet Street.

Oh, let us stay.

I'll be good, really.

I will.

I'll take a chance, all right.

The girl's name was Sadie Jones.

Then do you think it was the Strangler again?

Fine.

She was what they called a daughter of joy.

I can't hear anything wide, can you?

Well, judging by all those silver fox capes, they go fleshing around.

Now I should search...

No, no.

Yes, ma 'am?

No,

I was only going to point out that the criminal picked all his victims from the

same class.

Then it was the Strangler.

Go on, Penny.

Under the table.

Sorry.

Any chance of an arrest?

All in good time.

Anyhow, you know the kind of man you're trying to trace.

We do indeed.

All we have to do is to find a man with a kink.

You mean a modern Jekyll and Hyde?

Something like that.

Men of that sort aren't confined to one class.

It might be a rich man, or a fellow like Ginger, or even you, Mac.

So that's how you write your thrillers.

The point is to penetrate his camel flowers.

George, and that requires intelligence.

Rose, one of us out?

Definitely.

There you are, sir.

These will do justice to any film star.

But how do you account for the body being found on the steps of the Athenaeum?

You want to know too much, young woman.

Take a look at this x -ray of the body.

All done after death.

I don't know what it conveys to a thriller writer, but it tells me a good deal.

And I'm taking no chances as to what it may mean to a newspaper woman.

Well, Mac, we'll be getting along.

But we'll keep in touch if we may.

I know, like leeches.

It's very nice of you, and I really am grateful.

Oh, that's all right.

By the way, would you like these?

What are they?

Tickets for a show.

I can't use them.

Oh, it's a new thriller.

Like to come.

Like to.

A deal.

You all right, sir?

Hey.

Thank you very much, sir.

Thank you.

How is it, your drink?

No, thanks, sir.

What has it done?

Tell me something about yourself.

Apart from the fact that you're a tough newspaper woman.

What would you like me to tell you?

I think I'd like you to be an orphan.

Morning, China.

stolen magicism.

It's in the forest?

It's read by chimpanzee.

Working in Fleet Street to keep your foster parents.

In bananas.

An idea of your next heroine.

We ought to collaborate.

I don't like collaboration.

One does all the work, and the other just sits around.

Well, I wouldn't mind sitting around.

Just a minute.

Look at that.

What is it?

Do you remember that cigar band I picked up?

It's up on the stairs, so I kept it.

That's its mates.

What about it?

You're going to breed them or something?

Oh, to be serious.

I think that's the man who told us there was no one in the attic.

Of course, I don't want you to go back and go bored, Mr.

Killlock.

Yeah, well, I am bored.

But I think it's thrilling, and everybody thinks it's thrilling, except you.

It's about as thrilling as performing seals to me.

Now, come on, let's go someplace else.

They're going.

Let's follow them.

Don't you like it?

Yeah, but it sort of sticks in your throat, you know.

I'm sorry, honey, but I got something hanging around my neck.

You know, business worries.

You haven't lost your money, haven't you?

What money?

Your money.

Your fortune.

You know what I mean sometimes as a fashion no no no no nothing like that Last

night he looked like a tramp Lots of days.

I look like a tramp a pair of old flannel bags and a dirty shirt Don't hate it.

I'll hate it when you see me messing around the house whose house Wait a sir

wait a man is feeling a little faint.

She's just had some bad news.

Would you bring some brandy certainly sir at once?

It's you we're going to need the brandy How many yachts have you got mr..

Why only one I Want you a man who had three yeah,

we'll be on English when I know with three yachts in one with scrubs Well sir

do you want to know who that is sitting opposite us down below with a girl in

the black frog writing his cigar madam Yes, right, mr.

Kulev comes here every year from New York mr.

Oscar good art.

You know him right here Oh, yes, he's a millionaire.

He has a villa in Cannes a villa in Capri and a penthouse in New York just a

home But they say he bought the castle in Hungary and transported brick for

brick to his Long Island estate But no yachts.

Oh, yeah, she has the most magnificent job Oh, yes,

they sweeter this alloy So that's mr.

Kulev Why it's got to be the best Jekyll and Hyde story in years a magnificent

story Oh, please let me get in with it first Take me home now.

Will you Tansy?

I'm going to be up the crack of dawn Thought I told you not to show your face

in this office for at least a week.

I know I know Just came in to see how you were That was very thoughtful of you.

I have an idea.

There's a very good story going to break Yes,

you had that idea the other night.

It was a little premature then I've discovered that there's a man in that house

in Greek Street leading a double life.

There's nothing unusual about that.

This is his name there Here is Harham J.

Nash.

Sounds a little bogus to me.

It is bogus.

His real name is Oscar Kuloff.

He has a suite at the Savoy and he's by way of being a millionaire.

Did you look him up in the library?

Nothing in your library.

There never is.

This is all I could find.

Oscar Kuloff, born 1890,

educated privately president of the Electrical Microphone Corporation.

Residences Long Island, Cannes, Capri, has many hobbies.

I could tell them one I don't know about.

Became an American citizen in 1920.

And he has a room in Greek street.

Yes.

When I saw him first, he looked like a tramp.

Checkin' him high?

That's what I said.

Well, I'll cable New York and tell him to get a line on him.

Keep your mouth shut, Penny.

It might be a scoop this time.

It is a scoop this time.

I'll just stick around until you get a reply.

Stick around nothing.

We have a nice little flower show for you to cover.

Who do you think I am?

Beverly Nichols.

Phone your story.

If anything comes in, the boys will let you have it when you ring up.

Thanks for lunch.

It was a good idea of yours.

I like your head.

I thought you would.

It's like we are, too.

Well, how about this flower show?

Oh, I've covered that.

How do you mean?

You haven't been near it.

Oh, but I've got a catalogue.

Huh?

Well, I'm blown.

Hybridizing cinerarias.

That's a very good start.

The sensation of the show was the hybridizing cinerarius.

What's it say about that?

Very free -flowered.

A charming strain of close habit.

In a range of shades with the two unknown.

Oh, here's a nice line.

Brilliant bedding pansies.

That might be misunderstood.

No, please.

The old -fashioned sweet William has upright habits and exceptional purity.

Is that a flower?

Sure.

Sounds more like a man, I know.

Hey, give it the catalogue.

I've blown the story straight through.

I'll be right back.

Sorry, miss.

I didn't get that word.

Oh, cinerarias.

Okay, yes, I've got it.

Oh, just a minute, miss.

I've got a message here for you.

Yes, it's about the American millionaire, Oscar Kuloff.

Yes.

Yes, what's that?

In Greek Street?

Is that a watcher?

No, no, no, miss.

It's not about butcher.

I'm a bloodhound, Charlie.

I've got my nose right on the ground.

Don't you move till I've found my next story.

Yes, but you haven't finished this one, miss.

This flower show.

Oh, tell them to look up last year.

I don't know the difference between a hydrangea and a fire engine.

So long, Charlie.

Missy, isn't the Clarion one of the Camster group of newspapers?

Yes.

I know Lord Camster pretty well.

He was my guest last summer in New York.

Well, what do you want me to say, Miss Sutton?

Well, there's a rumor...

Yeah?

...that you're going to enter British film production.

Oh, heaven forbid.

Why should I?

You're interested in electrical sound apparatus.

There's a whole crop of rumors circling around you.

Around me?

What?

Who knows I'm here?

Why are you here, Mr.

Kewelow?

More justification.

A little business thrown in like any other American.

Now, don't you try to make a mystery man out of me?

You don't like publicity?

I hate it.

You know, you must be very hard of them.

You're trying to whip something out of nothing.

Oh, we are.

The sort of thing today, except that new strangler murder...

in Greek Street.

In Greek Street?

Your birthplace, wasn't it?

Say, how did you get under there?

I looked up your dossier before I came here.

I always do that before an important interview.

Chill, chill.

Well, I wouldn't call this an important interview, in fact,

I wouldn't call it an interview at all.

For two pins I call up Kempster and ask him why the hell I should submit to it.

You could always have me thrown out.

Yeah?

Well, I hope that won't be necessary.

We don't seem to be getting on very well, do we?

I don't like news hawks, Miss Sutton, even if they are as charming as you.

Then it's no use asking you to give me your impressions of Greek Street as it

is today.

That would be interesting.

Greek Street's in the news.

An American millionaire who was born in the street goes back there and takes a

look at it.

In all its squalor, its jostling, its violent life, how's that?

You can have it.

I wouldn't go within a mile of it.

But surely you've been back there?

Yeah, once, ten years ago.

Unhappy memories?

I don't care to discuss it.

Good day to you, Miss Sutton.

Good day, Mr.

Kewlove.

Or is it Mr.

Harum J.

Nash?

Of Idaho?

Well, give me a period of hours.

Well, fancy meeting you.

Ah, isn't it?

Have you been following me?

Following you.

You left me flat in a deserted restaurant.

I might have been swept up with the crumbs.

But you landed in the Savoy instead.

Funny the way one lands in places.

Very funny.

Come and have a drink.

No, I can't, Nancy.

I'm very busy.

Why all this deal?

I wanted the story of my life.

I phoned Mack a few minutes ago.

There's nothing new.

Kewlove just told me he hasn't been in Greek Street for the last ten years.

Well, did you tell him he was lying in his teeth?

Oh, I have my methods, Holmes.

Where were you off to just now?

Just following the line of inquiry.

Leave it to Mack.

Stay and have a drink.

Mack won't write my story for me.

I can't bear this enthusiasm.

Well, goodbye for now.

Penny, Penny, I want to talk to you.

Later.

Well, meet me at the full staff at six.

Neat as I can make it.

So you've come.

You didn't expect to see me.

Did you, Mr.

Kewloff?

Alias, Harum, Jane.

So you discovered my little secret, huh?

Come in.

Have I?

How interesting.

What secret?

About the rich man with many mansions who came back to the little room in the

place where he was born.

Isn't that what you're after, Miss Sutton?

No.

No?

It's a good story.

Not when there's a better one.

Is there?

You see, Mr.

Kewloff, I'm not a sub -sister.

I'm a crime reporter.

Well, what do you know about that?

How about a little drink?

No, thanks.

Not for me.

All right, nonsense.

The wheel's a conversation.

It's kind of cold.

Do you mind lighting the gas fire?

Okay.

I'm sorry I can't offer you no fancy drinks, so I'll have to be scotched.

Anyway, they're all poured out now.

Here you are.

Pick it up.

It's all doped and poisoned.

It says to crime.

Are you trying to add me to your list?

Worklist.

Casualties.

Oh, ridiculous.

It really was doped.

This sort of thing can't happen.

I know all about you.

Not all, young woman.

But too much for my peace of mind.

You all use you, sir?

You get her?

No.

I tried to carry on.

They've been trying to contact her for the past hour.

I even rang up Scotland Yard to see if Mac knew anything, but he hasn't.

Hasn't he?

I guess I should say Penny is trying to ditch you.

She's nearly up now and late.

She cometh not.

She cometh not.

Oh, shut up.

I think I know where to find her.

If she turns up here, tell her I'm at Mars.

Where's she at?

She knows.

Abracadabra.

Abracadabra.

Abracadabra.

Abracadabra.

What was that?

Abracadabra.

Hey, hey, hey.

Hey, hey, hey.

Everything comes to him awaits.

Yes, yes.

A critic wrote.

That the perfect audience for me would be gagged and bound to their seats.

The perfect audience at last.

Wait.

Don't move.

Don't move.

Don't move.

Don't move.

Hello, girl.

Evening.

See Miss Sutton?

No, I've been busy inside.

She's still looking for the Strangler.

What?

Yes.

It's not a bad story she wrote.

You're ready.

I read all the papers.

What, all of them?

Sure, I bought the lot.

To written most of them better myself.

Really?

They're ready with their gloves on.

Making out the one that does them's mad.

Don't you think he's mad?

Mad?

He's clever.

He's got the kind of cleverness we wouldn't understand.

Ordinary chaps like you and me.

The old cabaret turn again, eh?

Never mind about the cafe.

The dish is all stacked up in the kitchen and the customer's waiting to be

served so long as he could play on his old tin can.

Thank you.

Most potent, grave and reverent seniors.

The handkerchief.

The handkerchief!

Now give me the handkerchief.

The handkerchief.

Give me the handkerchief.

Where should a fellow go?

No.

How does that look now?

Oh, you'll start which?

Peel as thy smoke.

You don't like a fellow.

You don't applaud.

You're afraid of a fellow.

You know his reputation.

He is a stranger.

Daily Clarion.

Miss Sutton, please.

Hello, is Miss Sutton there yet?

Well, have you managed to contact her?

That's it.

Thanks.

Ma, I'd like some coffee.

And say, besides, that in a leper once,

where a malignant and a turban -turk beat a Venetian, and produced a state,

I took him by the throat and smote him!

Lust!

I'm on fire!

I'm on fire!

Joe, tell me, what makes you think this spangler chap's so clever?

The way he beats the cops to it, every time.

Get him in the end.

Not in your life, they won't.

He's too big for them.

Big?

Don't be a fool, Joe.

What's big about murdering women?

Look at the sort he picks on.

Slats.

No good.

Not one of them any good.

Better get a kick out of walking around.

Incognito.

The the the the the the the the the the the the Come on.

Come on.

Aah!

Aah!

My audience!

She's down there!

She'll die!

But don't come here!

She's mine!

Aah!

She's mine!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Oh, Mother, what do you think you're playing at?

Oh, no way!

She's mine!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

How about you?

Aah!

My precious things !

Jesus Christ, we can't make the both points.

The points!

You don't shut up.

I'll gag you again.

This is what I'm going to teach them.

This is what I'm going to teach them quickly.

She's mine!

You stole her!

Aah!

Thanks, Val.

Please, give me.

Come on.

Lay on my dust and can't be here.

Yes, yes, I'll see to that.

I'll tell you what I'll do.

Hello.

Hold on.

Well, you two...

We never did it.

You be caught.

It's my story.

Shut up.

I'm busy.

What's all this about?

It's a man called Kuloff.

Kuloff?

Same again, sir?

Hey, how long before we cross the coast?

Not long now, sir.

Something the matter with that bloody number four?

Catch his third double so far.

Looks like he needs them, too.

So you see, everything fits in, and you want to be able to nab him?

Unless, of course, we're too late, and he's got away.

Don't worry, he won't do that.

George, better make the usual inquiries.

Very good, sir.

He won't have got very far.

You see, the whole thing is so different from the sort of stuff you do in here.

Oh, since I had exactly the same situation in death under the arches.

All railway stations and ports will be informed in a full description given of

Culep.

George, you better ring up Croydon yourself.

Very good, then.

That's the most likely route he'll take.

What happens now?

Better go home and change while we're waiting.

When you come back, George will tell you exactly what I want you to do.

Forward, turn back.

Land at left.

They've got the landing lights on.

Hey, what's up?

Couldn't say so.

It's as if they're turned back.

It's as if they're turned back.

People who come in here like lions go out like lambs.

You can't do this to me.

You can't intercept an American businessman.

Oh, we've done it.

Come on in here.

Mr.

Culep, sir.

I'm Inspector Mackenzie.

I'm sorry to put you to this inconvenience.

Don't you sit down.

Cigar?

Oh, thanks.

Or would you prefer one of your own?

Why, yes, if you don't mind.

Thanks.

Thank you.

Yes, they're the same.

Mr.

Kewloff,

I'm sorry to interrupt your journey like this but I'm afraid I must ask you one

or two questions.

Okay, go ahead.

A young woman was found tonight in a house in Greek street Soho, number 175.

She was bound and gagged and the place was on fire.

Jeez, officer, I didn't do that.

Didn't do what?

Set that house on fire.

I thought you said the house was on fire.

And you let it meet your list.

No, I'm still here.

Yes, sir.

Mr.

Kewloff, I'm going to ask you if you wish to make a statement.

I've got nothing to say.

You've got to prove anything you've got against me and you can't do it.

As you will.

But I must warn you that while certain inquiries are being made,

I shall have to detain you.

Is this what you wanted, sir?

Matches exactly.

I found this scrap of cloth.

It was caught in the brooch that Sadie Jones was wearing when she was murdered.

It corresponds with a tear in this coat, which I think is yours, Mr.

Kewloff.

Well, yes, but how did you get it?

I took the liberty of having your luggage searched while we were having our

little chat.

I didn't do it.

I didn't do it, I tell you!

What am I gonna do?

Get me out of here.

So you can't take it.

I want to get to a telephone.

The king against Gullo.

Members of the jury,

you've heard the case for the prosecution and for the defense,

and it is for you to decide between the two.

The accused insists on his innocence,

but he cannot prove it directly because the case for the defense is just as

circumstantial as the case for the prosecution.

Kuloff, now a rich man, was born in Greek Street, perhaps as he claims,

at the very house which was the scene of the crime.

He asserts that it was his desire to buy that house and transplant it brick by

brick to his estate in the United States of America.

The defense makes a great point of the undoubted fact that he did do that very

thing with the castle in Hungary.

You may ask yourselves whether what is true and convincing about an isolated

castle in Hungary is necessarily equally true about a tenement house in Soho.

The defense...

stresses the contention in support of this that the accused placed an

eccentric, or you may prefer to think,

half -mad actor in number 175 Creek Street,

whose mission was to frighten the other residents out so that he could get the

house at what he conceived to be a proper price.

But the one man who could have given definite evidence of this point is dead,

victim of the fire he himself started.

You have heard the story of the Achilles,

that he met the murdered girl in Hyde Park and went home with her.

That, he admits,

he contends that it was an accidental and sympathetic interest in a woman he

recognized to be a fellow tenant living in the room above him.

He alleges, and insists vehemently, that she left him in the killed.

as he would have you infer by someone else who was hiding there and who

escaped.

You will of course pay great attention to the vital clue of the thread of cloth

from the accused jacket, which was found on the brooch of the dead girl's body.

And you must judge for yourselves how much weight to give to his explanation.

His story, and this part is true, is that after finding the body,

he telephoned his solicitor to come at once to Greek Street.

But by mistake rang up someone else.

He then awaited his solicitor, but two strangers arrived.

When he realised that they had discovered the crime, he panicked,

that was his wife, waited till they had gone,

and then went upstairs and threw the body out of the window.

He was not to know, and this is definite,

that the body would fall onto a lolly backing into the yard below,

and eventually fall on the steps of the Athenaeum Club.

In considering this part of the of Q's story,

you must take into consideration his admitted relations with other women,

particularly the evidence of the girl Tanya Smith, who lived in the same house.

The prosecution has made use, unfortunate use, in my view, of the phrase,

Jekyll and Hyde.

I must ask you to remember that this is not a matter of fiction, or effect.

Nevertheless, you must take into account that a man,

admittedly leading a double life...

What were you doing in the park?

The story.

He was in the room with your admission for the number of hands.

The clue of the middle class.

Oh, I'm sorry, but I had to get the last of my copy in on Kewloff.

Get me a drink, will you?

Oh.

When does Kewloff, um...

Day after tomorrow.

And that finishes the strangler story.

Oh, dear me, no.

There's still all the hangover.

Things like my life with Kewloff, vice versa.

Sweet tea number three for the Sunday.

What about that fella and all that?

Oh, something to it, but...

I'm a woman with a career.

All right.

But you'll change mine one of these days.

Oh, no.

I'm committed to crime.

Where shall we eat?

Here?

Cheeser cheese?

Somewhere west?

I think we owe ourselves a celebration.

I've got an idea.

Let's go to Jones.

Jones?

Why, don't you like clean table clothes?

I just thought it might be kind of nice to go there, saying that we sort of...

Start it there.

Sentimental little thing, really, aren't you?

I thought I might get some dope about the local's reaction.

Did you love execution?

Okay.

Just a crime reporter.

My sister's little gal does want your autograph, Miss Sutton.

I was telling my sister about you yesterday.

And up comes little Doris creeling and yelling for your autograph.

My autograph?

That's right.

You tell little Doris to stick to film stars.

Their handwriting's better.

Your story's not so hot.

Better than the others, though.

One of your fans, darling.

What's the matter with my story, John?

Because you and everybody else has got it wrong.

That bloke Kuloff never killed her, nor the others.

Bad luck to him if he didn't.

He's going to be hanged.

What makes you say that, John?

Because he's not clever enough, that's why.

I went round to courts and saw for myself an ordinary guy like that.

Bet the real bloke's clever, though.

I bet he's laughing somewhere up his sleeve and waiting for a chance to start

again.

It's too, too better to mind your own business.

When are you going to learn to lay a table properly?

Oh, he always does it like that.

Your grab's ready.

I'll get it for you.

Joe didn't mean any harm about your story, Miss Sutton.

He's a good boy, really.

He's just a baby.

What's the matter?

It's that case of shock.

Shock?

Did you see the way Joe laid the table?

What about it?

Just a crime reporter.

Do you remember how the table was laid that evening in Sadie's room?

Tapsy.

Somehow I feel that in my bones I've always known it.

Let's go and see, Mac.

Now, they're spoon and fork were great,

but the fork was on the right and the knife was on the left.

That's how they were that night on Sadie's table,

and that's how they were tonight.

And if you think that's just coincidence...

I haven't said so.

Joe knew Sadie.

I have a feeling he knew her better than he'll admit.

A lot of people knew her.

Well, if I had anything to do with this case,

I'd say here was a piece of most important evidence.

Because it's dramatic.

The only difference between you and me, Tamsi,

is that I've learned to mistrust the dramatic.

You think it's nonsense?

No.

No, I wouldn't say that.

Well, what then?

Well, against this, set the proceedings at the Old Bailey.

The sifting of evidence, the weighing up, the verdict,

the whole machinery of the mills of God, which is the law.

I know, but surely if that machinery turns out a man marked guilty,

there's only one thing can happen to him.

He hangs.

Here's a cup of coffee, Joe.

Seen a fine of coffee around here?

Pretty good.

Yes, we do.

I don't like it.

It won't stop, do you?

I hate it.

I don't have a crazy idea.

Now, listen, this is my story and my party.

You're only asked to help.

If you want to back up...

I feel it's a risk.

Risk?

To you.

I don't like it.

I'm not going to be a party to it.

Nobody's asking you, and nobody's stopping me.

Oh, shut up.

I don't know why I even worry about you.

I do.

You like me.

You're not bad at all.

Do you stop?

You'll have to die tomorrow.

I wonder what he's feeling like tonight.

Probably thinking what a great guy he is.

Most of his sort are like that.

Well, his name's all right tonight.

Look at the head -nights.

All London's thinking about him, talking about him.

Why, all the jazzies in Soho are buzzing with...

Kill off.

Kill off.

Kill off.

They'll give him a place in Madam to Soads,

and people will queue up to see him.

You know, people will remember him like, uh, Crippen Smith.

Not like you and me, good, dull citizens.

We'll be forgotten, Joe.

We'll never create, Miss, uh...

You'll take it from me.

Kuloff never done them girls in.

He's a cheat.

That's what he is.

Why, Joe, what makes you say that?

Never you'll mind.

I'm saying it, see?

Laugh if you like.

Maybe there's some folks who laugh the wrong side of their face when the real

guy starts again.

Rub this, Joe.

Kuloff did it, all right?

That's all that knows they got the real man if you don't.

They've had no trouble since they got Kuloff.

Now, if they were another strangling tonight...

Well, that'd be different.

It would, wouldn't it?

More coffee.

Nothing.

Come, Billy.

No, Tamsay.

I'll tell you later.

I'm going to stay here and talk to Joe.

You know, I think there may be something in what he says.

That's right.

I'm talking sense, I am.

OK, I'll wait.

No, Tamsay.

I want to talk to Joe alone.

OK.

I'll be seeing you.

Sit down, Joe.

Have a cigarette.

Thanks.

Please?

No.

Look, Joe, I've got the most wonderful idea, and I want you to help me.

Why, pick on me?

Because I think you're right, Joe.

He couldn't have been too lost.

He hasn't the brain.

He was someone much smarter than him that killed those girls.

Joe, I think there was a third person that night in Sadie's fact.

Well?

Let's go up to the flat and reconstruct the crime.

You know, like they do in France,

we might find something the police have missed.

Not scared, are you, Joe?

Me?

Scared?

I'm sure I'll help you.

Let's go.

I still think it's a silly notion.

He wouldn't leave nothing lying around for you to find.

Come on.

Where'd you get them?

Keys, I mean.

You'd be surprised what Crown reporters can do if they really try.

Now, let's pretend I'm Sadie and you're him.

We'll just have to imagine Kewloff for the moment.

I brought Kewloff home now.

What's the first thing I do?

Oh, I know, of course.

I pay the gun off her.

Now, what's the next thing I do?

I'd like Kewloff to have a cup of coffee.

Something to eat.

He'd say yes.

And I'd go into the kitchen.

Now, this is where you come in, Joe.

I want you to go into the kitchen and stand behind the door.

Oh, come on.

You said you'd help.

I'd leave Kewloff in here.

And then I'd go into the kitchen.

I like the gas.

Remember the kettle was boiling when she was five.

There's still something.

Oh, I know, there's talking.

See, Michael.

Now what?

Oh, what's good?

You see, said he was...

Why don't they fix that record?

I don't know.

They'd stop it if everything was okay, wouldn't they?

Now get a seat.

No!

Pull that taps together.

Teddy!

No, you don't!

Don't!

Now get the hang of something.

You don't need to do this to me.

You don't need to do this to me.

Take him off.

Why are you going to be treated like a dimner?

I'm too good for that.

Take him off, my sherry!

Take him off!

Take him off!

I didn't want to say that he was going to go down.

There's quite a crowd outside.

Try and cut out an end of hand.

Right, sir.

Thank you.

A big crowd and made a sense of attraction, something I've always wanted,

never had.

Well, it was grand while it lasted.

A cigarette.

Wonder what's going on out there?

Say, Ma, it's your Joe.

Is he in trouble?

Joe in trouble?

What is it?

I know.

He's been street betting again.

Well, they can't hang him for that.

That's not a crime.

I must go and see.

Get back there.

Joe!

What are you doing to my Joe?

You can't take my boy away like this for street betting.

You can't treat him like a criminal.

You can't take him away like this, I say...

Madam, this is a murder charge.

He's just confessed.

Well, that's that.

Sorry?

No, glad.

Why?

Well, you know, I've been thinking.

I don't think crime reporting really is my line.

No?

You mean that...

I'm thinking of taking up writing.

You know, collaboration.

Collaboration?

Who with?

Who with?

You.

Darling.

Tamsi, not here.

Under the lights of Bigadilly.

Look at them.

They're more than just lights.

They're a promise that everything's all right with the world.

The Allswell signal.

If they ever go out, we'd have something to cry about.

If they did, they'd come on again.

And we'd be standing here, waiting for you.