All language subtitles for Toten Augen von London-Eng-subs

You crazy fool!

Idiot!

It's nothing.

THE DEAD EYES OF LONDON

No doubt about it.
Richard Porter from Melbourne.

Australian - wool merchant
66, and single.

-The Police fished him out the Thames.
-Cause of death?

Drowning.

-Any doubts, Doctor?
-None. A foggy night, accidents happen.

And if I don't agree?

I'm a doctor, not a detective.
I only determine the cause of death.

I value your experience highly, Doctor.

Whether or not it's murder,
I leave to you.

-Are these his personal effects?
-Personal effects?

They found �300 in his wallet.
-Porter was a millionaire.

And he wore glasses.
What's this?

A scrap of paper.
It was in his pocket.

Been in the water a long time.
Looks like parchment.

And these raised dots...

Doctor, this is...

This is Braille.
-Yes, it is.

-The death certificate is in order.
-So his insurance must pay up.

Just like Mr. Lennox from
Cape Town. Drowned.

And Mr. Berengari from
Bombay. Drowned.

They can't all be accidents, Sir John.

Always foggy nights.
Always men wearing glasses.

Always rich men from abroad.

If you had any evidence, Larry.

But you haven't.
All you have to go on,

is a suspicion.

What's that?
-A reason for my suspicion.

It was wrapped around Porter's legs.

-Could have happened in the river.
-Indeed, Sir John.

But you can hang me with it,
if this wasn't murder.

Don't do it. We need you.

-We need to translate that Braille.
-You can do that now.

I have called in a specialist.
If you get along there,

he is waiting in your office.
-Ah, right.

Thank you, Sir John.

-Good day.
-Good day.

-I'm Inspector Holt.
-My name is Nora Ward.

You're different to what I expected.
-Oh? In what way?

Older.

-You're a surprise, too.
-How?

Younger.

So, you read Braille?
-Yes, I was a nurse for 2 years

in a home for the blind.
-Unusual for someone your age.

My parents did not worry about me.
I've fended for myself since I was 16.

-Shall we get to work.
-What? Ah, yes.

Here...

-This won't be easy.
-It was in the Thames for some time.

Not all the words
are legible,

but the word "crime"'
is very clear.

And then:

Murder!
-Yes, go on!

How odd.

''The blind monster...

and his master.''

It sounds like 'The Dead Eyes
of London''.

''The Dead Eyes of London''?

A gang of blind beggars who
commit crimes in the night.

And in fog, when they
have an advantage over others.

Come in.

Sgt. Harvey, my assistant.
Everyone calls him Sunny.

Miss Ward.
-Pleased to meet you.

Not since the lady who killed her husband,
have we been honoured by such beauty.

-How gallant!
-I told you: Sunny!

Have you discovered anything?

-Do you knit?
-Why not, Miss Ward?

-It calms his nerves.
-I am currently knitting

two jerseys that I'll need this year.
-Really!

And I also knit for charity.

-Nothing for me.
-All in good time!

-Let's get down to cases.
-I know everything, Sir.

-Quite a boast... For example?
-Mr. Porter had a life policy

with the Greenwich Company.
-Greenwich? Never heard of it.

A small family business.
Highly thought of in the City.

The owners are two brothers.
One of them is...

dead.

-Mr. Strauss, you should have gone...
-To the bank.

He has. I've been waiting for
your secretary to leave.

Ah!

-Flash Fred.
-As ever, Mr. Judd.

-You know, of course, why I'm here.
-I can imagine.

You want to discuss the weather.
-Very amusing

-You still object to cheques?
-Yes. My weakness is for ready cash.

It's no good peeking.
I don't usually keep cash here.

Only if I have to pay
extortion money to you.

If ugly words could kill,
I'd drop dead on the spot.

Unfortunately, you don't!

-Don't bother counting it. It's correct.
-I didn't mean to, Mr. Judd.

Sentimental nonsense,
giving you money.

It wasn't my fault your brother
and my woman ran off to Scotland.

Merely a rich man's whim.

Really? Why did he stay there so long,
hiding behind a false name?

Was it because he was waiting
for a large cheque in that name?

David had gambling debts
that I had to pay.

Anyway, he is now dead!
-But the company still uses his name.

What would happen, do you think,,
if I were to reveal

that David Judd, who was buried
with all honours...

Swine! You filthy pig!

David was the best man who ever breathed.
For a miserable slug like you...

Take it easy, hothead.

Calm down.
-Can I be of help?

Well, Flash Fred. What's the news
from the Sanatorium?

Are you insuring jewellery, or your life?

I know both are important to you.

Nervous?

lnspector Holt. Can I assist you?
-No, Inspector.

We were discussing a policy
and couldn't agree terms.

Quite so.
The Greenwich has fulfilled its contract.

Regards, gentlemen.
-Next time, I'll give you insurance!

But you won't like the premiums!

Thank you, Inspector.
You arrived at an opportune moment.

He is one of my clients,
but difficult to satisfy. Take a seat.

I am here about Richard Porter, of
Melbourne. He drowned in the Thames.

He had a policy with you, didn't he?
-Yes. Our 3rd such case in 4 years.

If we hadn't re-insured,
we would have been ruined.

As it is, there are rumours that
my company is in difficulties.

I have had to carry the whole burden...
since the death of my brother.

-Your brother David, am I right?
-Yes. I still can't believe he's gone.

Heart failure. Business pressures
were too much for him.

Cigarette, Inspector?

I'll get it.

-Hello.
-Club member?

-No, but I'd like to be.
-Got any references?

Sure.

I know Inspector Holt
from Scotland Yard.

Is that enough?

Ten on the red...
and this on 12, 27 and 36.

-Today is my day.
-Are you sure? 2nd dozen.

No more bets.

To what do I owe the honour?

Just one question: Why is Stephen
Judd paying you money?

Read your tea leaves. They might help.
Why come to me?

I'm no information bureau. You
don't have an arrest warrant, do you?

-Not yet.
-17 black, odd and low!

Damn!
I lost and you won.

I envy you.
-That's a good idea.

You still haven't answered my question.

-And why should I?

What can you tell me about
''The Dead Eyes of London''?

-You mean Blind Jack?
-Why not?

Why don't you say something?

-Blind Jack does what his master tells him.
-I know, I know.

Perhaps I'm his master!

-What's going on? You leaving?

A fine place this is.
You allow anyone in here.

-Scotland Yard?
-Scotland Yard here.

This is Holt. Connect me with
Investigation Branch.

-Investigations. Who is it?
-Holt.

Dig out everything we have on
a man known as "Blind Jack"!

''Blind Jack''?
We'll get on it.

I'll be right over.

-I've been waiting for you.
-I'm flattered. Why?

I always wait for winners.
How about a bottle of champagne?

-Perhaps another time.
-Another time is OK.

But perhaps you'd like to gamble
with me. I always bring good luck.

Then you should gamble for yourself.

I'd like to, but I can't.
I have no money.

Such a sad story.

You could sell this bauble.
-I'm not that hard up.

Besides, it was a gift...
-I know, from the Shah of Persia.

I suppose.
-Silly!

He was a real gentleman,
if you know what that means.

The finest man I ever met,
but he passed away.

And I am forced to live like this.
-Fanny!

Do not pester the guests.
We are a respectable club.

Don't leave a bad impression with Scotland Yard.
-Scotland Yard?

-Well, yes. Sorry.
-Oh, pardon me, Sir.

I got in the wrong boat.
-Yes, this one is in dry dock.

Here.
A little present...

from Scotland Yard.
-Thank you.

The girl interests me.

She is called Fanny Weldon.
She was Flash Fred's girlfriend.

Till she picked up with
a big man in Insurance.

By the name of David Judd.

But he has since died.

-Good evening, Inspector.
-Ah! Good evening, Miss Ward.

Glad you could come.
We can go now.

A little late for
an invitation to dinner, isn't it?

-To dinner?
-A white lie, Sir. My apologies.

Forgive his grotesque humour.

We have a clue
that needs chasing up.

And what is my involvement?

I have to make a visit
and need your professional help.

Sunny, read us the report.
-Here it is.

Jacob Farrell, alias ''Blind Jack'',
lost his sight when 2 years old.

Age: about 50. Height: 6' 4". Occupation: beggar.
Exceptional strength and very violent.

Intelligence of a child.
Last known address: 25, Blossom Lane.

-Seems they are all asleep.
-Yes, looks like it.

-Good evening. May I speak
with the Director? -Visitors!

The Reverend will be overjoyed.
We almost never have visitors.

-Who is it?
-Visitors, Reverend!

-Visitors? At this hour?
-Forgive the disturbance.

Inspector Holt of Scotland Yard.
Miss Ward and my assistant, Sgt. Harvey.

Scotland Yard?

Yes. We are looking for a blind peddler
in connection with a murder case.

I hope it's none of my flock.
When I became Director here,

it was known as a shady haunt.
But I believe that I've succeeded

in my efforts to improve matters.
-I am looking for a Jacob Farrell.

Alias ''Blind Jack''. Is he here?
-The name is not known to me.

We only admit people who
will not bring trouble with them.

-Our files show this as his last known address.
-I used to know Blind Jack, Reverend.

-Is that you, Lew Norris?
-Yeah.

-Then tell all you know.
-Blind Jack lived here,

before the Reverend came.

Where does he live now?

He hasn't been around,
for a long time now.

-What's the matter?
-Here.

-Braille.
-One of the blind men, Sir.

-Can you decipher it?
-Yes.

''The Dead Eyes'' are at work

Some nights we are visited
by Blind Jack.

But the Reverend knows nothing of it
-One of the blind men knows!

But he's afraid to speak out.
-But which? There are a couple of dozen!

We must identify him
and speak to him alone.

The janitor might help us,
he can see.

Nora, I have an idea.

But it requires your help.
Given your experience with the blind,

ask the Reverend if
he would let you help him.

I understand.

-Will you do that for me?
-For you - yes. For Scotland Yard, maybe.

Thank you.

I'll sign the correspondence later.
I'll drop by with it tonight.

A Mr. Gordon Stuart is waiting outside.
He wants to speak with you.

He is insured in Canada.
-Show him in.

If you please, Mr. Stuart.

Good day, Mr. Stuart.
Please take a seat.

Hello?
Yes, it's Edgar.

He's coming back tonight.
His car will be parked out back.

A white Mercedes-Cabrio.
Registration number DUL---.

I'll do my best.

Flash Fred chickened out once
he saw that C.I.D. Inspector

chatting with your boss.
-I'm not surprised.

It's up to you now, Fanny.

Your policy is in order, Mr. Stuart.
I see you have no family.

Everything goes to charities.
-No, I would like to change that!

I want everything to go to my daughter.

-Your daughter?
-Yes, please note her name,

Eleanor Finlay.
She is my illegitimate daughter.

I am sorting matters out, and
I'm seeing a lawyer this afternoon.

As you wish, Mr. Stuart,
but this decision is so sudden...

We are talking about at least �100,000.
-It might surprise you.

But I only discovered my daughter
was still alive about an hour ago.

-And the address of Miss Eleanor Finlay?
-I haven't found that out.

I only know she is still alive.

You wouldn't believe
the difference it makes to me...

Even today - with all this fog...

Yes, the fog is thick today.
I hope you can find yourself a taxi.

-This damned fog...
-What have you got against fog, Sir?

London has more than
40 days of fog every year.

-And who will be tonight's victim?
-We have no cause for alarm.

I have checked the visitor lists.
And millionaires are thin on the ground.

Ask hotel porters
what they're getting in tips.

Come in.

Well, well.

Come right on in, Fred.
-The poor sinner comes to confession.

-No, I've come for a lesson in knitting.
-You're too sticky-fingered for knitting.

-A comedian.
-What's on your mind?

This came in the Post today.

-Take a seat.
-Today is my birthday.

-Congratulations.
-From all at Scotland Yard.

Thank you.

I thought it was from an old girlfriend.
I keep on good terms with them all.

It's the way I am.
-Very wise.

I unwrapped it and my dog
grabbed the first slice.

He swallowed it, shivered
and dropped down dead.

Poor thing.
-It shouldn't happen to a dog.

Such sincerity.

Sunny, take this to the laboratory.
-At once, Sir.

Fred, give me some names
who might have done this.

To tell the truth, Inspector.
I don't know where to start:

There is no love between humans.
If I only knew who was driving that van...

-What van?
-A couple of days ago

I was almost run over
and sent to the land of angels.

It was a deliberate attempt to kill me.
You have to help me!

It is your sworn duty...
-Yes, I know, Fred!

Even for you. But you must
give me something to go on.

Could it be Blind Jack?
-All I know is that it was

a white delivery van,
maybe from a laundry.

Left-hand drive.

Is there anyone there?

-Good evening, Mr. Judd.
-Who are you?

I am Fanny Weldon
your brother's lover.

-My brother is dead.
-I know that.

I loved your brother.
I believe,

I miss him more than you do.
-So you say.

What do you want of me?

-Flash Fred took you for a lot of cash.
-And?

He won't be getting any more!

Why don't we take a little drive?

-Good evening, Miss Ward.
-Good evening.

-Is that you, Lew?
-It's me, Reverend.

Oh, Miss Ward!
How nice of you to visit.

I was so happy when you called.

-It was hard getting here in this fog.
-Yes, I can smell the fog.

So much more gratifying
that you came out in it.

-Good evening.
-Good evening, Miss.

My friends!

Miss Ward will visit us
now more often,

to assist us during our free time.

We are about to enjoy our musical
evening. Beethoven... Fifth!

Conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham.

With your permission, we'll start.
We like to be punctual.

They all are waiting.
-But one is missing.

-How observant you are.
-I don't know his name.

The little man who said he knew Jack.
-She means Lew. - Lew Norris.

Quite right.

-It's not easy to forget his face.
-Lew did not come to dinner.

When you came, I thought it was him.
Please, take a seat.

May I help?

If you like.

No Jack,... don't do it!
I can't take any more!

I can't bear it.
I can't sleep at night.

I can't see their faces,
but when I dream,

I see them staring at me.

I can't help you anymore!
Let's put a stop to it!

I'll go to the Police. Yes.

You'll be going nowhere.

-Where are we?
-I don't know. I'm lost.

What do you know of my brother?
-Ah...

David lived in Scotland
under a false name.

He called himself Lennox.
-People often use false names

on romantic adventures.

If you think I was merely
a romantic adventure, you are wrong.

One day, the postman delivered
a large money order for Mr. Lennox.

Which David cashed on the strength
of his false documentation.

Flash Fred knew about this, and
you've been paying him ever since.

So, it's blackmail, is it?

-Out of the car!
-What? Here?

Out you get! I am no longer responsible
for my brother's mistakes.

And how would you feel if you
were headline news in the tabloids?

Very well.

I don't understand you,
but my brother was good to you.

So, if this helps...
Take it.

Now, who put you up to this?
-A friend.

-Flash Fred.
-No. Not Flash Fred.

-Who then?
-Someone you wouldn't even suspect.

Well, now.
Aren't you Mr. Judd's secretary?

A bit early to call on Fanny Weldon.
-I don't know you, Sir.

But I know you,
and your criminal record.

Two years for fraud,
wasn't it, Mr. Edgar Strauss?

I'm on probation,
Inspector.

So, you know me now.
-Will you tell Mr. Judd...

about my record, Inspector Holt?
-Why? I have nothing against you.

Only against Fanny Weldon.
Mr. Judd has complained. About blackmail.

-It seems she's not in.
-Or she is hard to wake up.

The door wasn't locked.

Her last visitor left in a hurry.

Fanny!

Most peculiar, Sir!
Nothing stolen from the flat.

Except for a ring,
a gift from David Judd.

-Enter.
-Good morning to you both.

-Good morning, Chief Inspector.
-Larry, this morning...

we fished another body out the Thames.
-But it's not the fishing season!

Official version: accident.
Another elderly man, and thick fog.

A millionaire from Canada,
he was wearing glasses...

-My theory again, Chief Inspector.
-Yes. I don't believe it was an accident.

Here. Exactly as before!
Caught around the legs of the victim.

And now I know why.

A weight was tied by this rope
to the corpse - to drag it

to the bottom.
-But then it wouldn't have risen!

The killer must have wanted the body
to be discovered.

That's it. To make it look
like an accident in the fog!

Only then would the insurance pay out!

The weight must have been...

something that dissolves in water!

Sir!

Sugar!

Or salt.

No, Inspector,
I didn't see Mr. Stuart go out.

I thought he had gone to bed.
-And you say this door was left open?

Just a little. You don't think that
he climbed out over the balcony?

Hardly likely. May I help you?
-Thank you.

-Did the last one burn out?
-Yes, and it was less than 2 weeks old.

The floor was covered in splinters!
-But when a bulb burns out,

it just stops working.
It doesn't explode!

Someone smashed it!
-Did you know Mr. Stuart was rich?

I never thought so.
But he was an elegant man.

I'm good at sizing people up.
-I'm sure you are, Mrs. Brooks.

Can you tell me why
he chose to stay with you?

-Yes. Because he had stayed
here before. -When?

When he was last in London
22 years ago. He often told me...

that some of his loveliest days had
been spent in this room.

-Sounds very romantic.
-What do you know of him?

Who visited him? Any phone calls?
-But, Inspector!

I don't spy on my guests.
But he had no visitors.

A taxi called every morning for him.

-Where did he go, Mrs. Brooks?
-Where? I wouldn't know.

Here is where I brought
the old chap you described.

-To the cemetery?
-Yes! Over there.

Where those men are.

-Good day, gentlemen!
-Good day!

-Are you in charge? Tasty?
-Yes, thanks.

A beautiful stone
you are placing there.

But 22 years is a trifle late.
-Better late than never, they say.

-Who ordered the stone?
-Elderly gent. I didn't know him.

He mentioned a childhood sweetheart.
-Did he give his name?

Of course. He paid by cheque.
His name was Stuart.

-Gordon Stuart?
-Yes. How funny...

-In what way is it funny?
-Less than an hour ago

another chap asked me the same
questions. -What did he look like?

Difficult to say...
Slim. Like you.

Perhaps a bit older. About 40.
-How was he dressed?

A raincoat. Like his. But no hat.
-And his face?

Yes, his face...

-Pardon?
-There was nothing to see.

His sunglasses covered everything.
-A-ha. Then, thank you.

-Not at all. Goodbye.
-Goodbye.

-Goodbye... maestro!
-Goodbye.

Let's think about this, Sunny.
22 years ago.

Gordon Stuart & a certain Miss Finlay...
-...loved each other passionately.

Just so. And the result of this love?
-A daughter, Louisa. Who died at birth

along with her Mother.
-Correct. Now, when you can identify

the man in the sunglasses, you might
get your long-awaited promotion.

Thirteen, black,
odd and low.

Well, Mr. Strauss.

Do you need some more cash?

-Mind your own business.
-With the peanuts you make with Judd...

you can't afford this for long.
-Know anything better?

Sure. You have the key, don't you?

-What key?
-The key to Fanny's flat.

-I don't know what you're talking about.
-The Police are looking for it everywhere.

Her last guest must've had a key.

-She never gave me one.

Wait a moment...

One time, when she was tipsy,

she spoke of a death.
Of a great love affair.

And of a key.
If I only knew who she meant.

You mean you don't know?
Use your head.

Think it through.
You're not being too clever.

-David Judd.
-Yes.

Since it was after his death,

his brother must now have the key.

This is our chance,
we should take it...

Blackmail Judd, do you mean?

Don't you go.
Sit there and place your bets.

And remember:
The first law of survival.

All you have to do is win.
I will handle the negotiation.

Who's speaking? Flash Fred!
I thought I'd made it clear:

I don't want to be bothered by you!
-Why so unpleasant, Mr. Judd?

I have some information for you.

The Police are looking for the man
with the key to Fanny Weldon's flat.

Take your choice. Be bothered
by me or by the Murder Squad.

Don't be so hasty, my friend.

How about we discuss the matter
more calmly?

Let's say, my office - in an hour.
-Fair enough.

Good. I'll wait for you.

-Why did you bring us here?

You wanted to see all the places
the old gent went.

Yes, but here?

I was surprised myself,
but that's where he went.

Then, Sir, we should follow.

-Inspector Holt!
-Miss Nora!

-Why are you here? Are you looking for me?
-No. I'm surprised to find you here.

I want to talk with the proprietor.
-My Aunt is out,

she was lured away this morning
on a false pretext. Come in, please.

Your Aunt is the proprietor?

She isn't really an aunt.
I am an orphan and she brought me up.

Since I've been independent,
I only come here once in a while.

I was looking forward to seeing her...
And I'm so worried about her!

-What happened this morning?
-A man came in a car, and said...

I'd been in an accident
and was in hospital.

-In hospital? -She became
upset, and left with him.

I've not heard from her since.
-Did anyone see the car?

-Miss Brown, who works for my Aunt.
-What kind of vehicle took her away?

-It was a delivery van.
-And what did the man look like?

-Slim. He wore a light raincoat.
-And his face?

Half hidden. He wore glasses
- large sunglasses.

-The man from the cemetery!
-Without a doubt.

Nora, did you Aunt ever mention
the name Gordon Stuart to you?

-I don't think so... Who is he?
-A rich Canadian,

who drowned in the Thames.
And one of the last places

he visited was here.
That's why I'm here now!

Sunny, please see to it
that Miss Ward gets home safely.

With pleasure, Sir.!
With pleasure!

No signs of violence.

All the indicators suggest
that this was an accident.

Medically speaking.

But, based on our previous cases,
it looks like murder to me, Doctor.

That's why I called you, Larry.

Here. This was found
in his passport.

-Braille.
-Precisely.

Who would benefit from this
man's death? Any relatives?

Gordon Stuart only had
an illegitimate daughter.

And she died 22 years ago.

Thank you, Sunny, nice of you.

It's not every day
I get such a delightful task.

-I would like to ask you in for tea.
-Oh, yes indeed.

But, after all that's happened,
I think I'd like to be alone.

I'm sure you've other things to do.
-Not as pleasant as sharing a pot of tea.

Why don't you get married, Sunny?
-No time! And I'm rarely at home.

And Scotland Yard has no Registrar.
-And Larry?

He's sent many away for life sentences,
but he's avoided it for himself.

-Good night, Sunny.
-Good night, Miss Ward.

-You still need to free me.
-Pardon, I almost forgot!

-Would you hold my hat, please?
-What are you looking for?

-The key!
-Now where can it be?

How stupid of me!

Why do these things happen to me?
So, there we are.

I hope you will forgive
my clumsiness.

-Once more. Good night, Miss Ward.
-Good night.

Scotland Yard!

Is someone there?

Nora! Nora!
I'm coming!

-Nora! What happened?
-Larry!

It was the blind monster!

He got away!
In a white delivery van.

I couldn't read the licence number,
but it was probably false anyway.

Splinters from the light bulb.

Well, Nora. If we can't trace where
Blind Jack hides himself,

we won't know where your Aunt is.
-First my Aunt, and now me...

My God, Larry, if you hadn't
come in time...

-But why are you here?
-Here.

This piece of paper
probably saved your life.

I must know what the message says!
-It's not much better than the first one.

But I can read this bit:
''No accident...

but murder.''

-Are you sure?
-Yes. This bit is quite clear.

Nora, any idea which of the blind men
could have written this?

Seems to me: it's the little man
with the scar, Lew Norris.

Please wait outside, Sunny.
If I need help, I'll call you.

-Very good, Sir.
-Good evening, Inspector.

-'Evening, Jones. Anything new?
-No, the chap hasn't shown up.

-He might still come.
-Let's hope so.

-So, Mr. Jones, how are the wife & kids?
-Fit and well, thanks.

Good evening, Miss Nora..
Should I tell the Reverend you are here?

-Thank you, it's not necessary.
-Is there another way into this house?

No, this is the only entrance.

-Reverend Dearborn?
-Yes?

-It's me, Nora Ward.
-Oh! Welcome, Miss Ward.

Forgive the late visit, Reverend.
I must speak urgently with Lew.

-Lew? Not Lew Norris?
-The little man with the scar.

-I'm sorry...
-Is he ill?

I don't know.
He hasn't been home for days.

I notified the Police this evening.
I hope nothing has happened to him.

Time will tell...
May I use your telephone?

-Yes. Of course.
-Thank you.

Morgue, please...
Hello, Doctor. This is Holt.

Do you have a man
about 5' 5",

with a scar on his left cheek?
-Yes, but so far...

we haven't identified him.
-His name is Lew Norris.

Address: 25, Blossom Lane.
What was the cause of death?

Hit-and-run.
But we'll be able to trace the driver:

We are analysing paint chips
on the victim's coat.

White?
-Yes. -How did you know that?

There's more!
This was no accident,

it was murder.

Too late, again.

What you just said...
is terrible, Inspector.

-Not a place to walk through alone.
-I agree.

Decidedly, most unpleasant!
Come along, Mr. Jones!

-Good night.
-Good night, Miss Nora.

-Oh, one thing, can you write in Braille?
-No!

Why?

Never mind... Good night. Sunny!
-Sir!

-See you again, Mr. Jones.
-'Bye.

-Good night, Mr. Judd.
-Good night.

Pardon.

-Good evening, Mr. Judd.
I am Matthew Blake. -So?

Your secretary, Mr. Strauss,
has a large gambling debt at my Club.

He says you will settle them for him.
-The man is mad!

It's sheer nonsense!
-He told me about a key...

The key to Fanny Weldon's flat.
-I've no idea what you're talking about.

But if you come with me,
you can talk to Inspector Holt.

-Ah, Inspector!
-Good evening. I've been waiting for you.

-I'm sorry for being a little late!
-Inspector...

-Matthew Blake! Did he delay you?
-Sorry, but I don't know the man.

Follow me.

He got into the lift with me.
I didn't like the look in his eye!

Little wonder. His left eye is glass.
He lost it in a knife attack

when he was in Dartmoor.
-Horrible.

-Come in, Inspector.
-Thank you.

-Oh, where is your secretary?
-Mr. Strauss no longer works here.

I had to dismiss him.

-Can I take your coat, Inspector?
-No, thanks.

Please then, be seated.

So? What can I do for you? You want
to ask about Flash Fred's accident?

Accident?
I'm sure it was murder.

-Flash Fred had many enemies.
-Including yourself, Mr. Judd.

But you have an alibi.
-I was entering the building at the time.

I was lucky on that occasion.
-I'm here about Gordon Stuart,

who drowned in the Thames.
He was insured in Canada

and you acted as the agent.
-These drownings have been my ruin.

The large companies no longer
want to cover our commitments.

You are the first person I've told:
I'm bankrupt, Mr. Holt.

I will have to close the Greenwich.
-I wouldn't rush into doing that.

Not as long as the Stuart claim isn't paid...
-But it has been paid!

The death certificate was clear!
Accidental death.

I was in no position to block payment, and
the beneficiary collected the cheque today!

-The beneficiary?
-Yes! Miss Eleanor Finlay.

The illegitimate daughter of the deceased.
He'd had her name certified before his death!

Here!
-It doesn't make sense!

His daughter was called Louisa
and she died 22 years ago.

She was alive when she came here
for the cheque. Here's the receipt.

With signature and address.

12, Hartford Avenue?

This is quite a joke, Mr. Judd.
-How so?

I live at 12, Hartford Avenue!
And I'm the sole tenant!

I'm sorry, Chief.
It wasn't my fault.

The girl escaped you twice!

You used to obey my orders!
-And I'll do so in the future!

You can rely on me!
I'm not like Lew! I won't squeal!

If Scotland Yard get you,
you'll sing all right!

No, Chief! I wouldn't say a word!
They could cut out my tongue!

I would rather die.
-So be it!

No, Chief, don't kill me.
I don't want to die.

Am I dreaming or is it you, Nurse Nora?
Come in, please.

You're a hard man to find, Mr. Blake.

Are you still nursing?
I'll never forget

the way you cared for me
after I lost my eye.

-It's good to see you looking so well.
-You never treated me like a convict

all the time I was in your care.
-Do you remember what you promised me

when you were discharged?
-Yes, it still applies today!

Anything I can do to help
with my contacts...

What can I do?
Answer me this.

Where is Blind Jack's hideout?

-But, Miss Nora...
-I need to know.

But this man is wanted by Scotland Yard.

Not any more.
They have found him.

-Blind Jack? Where?
-On a rubbish dump. He was shot.

I recommend you keep well out of this.

These are all the laundries in London.
I have checked them all.

It was hard work, but...

I'm sorry! Thank you for your efforts.
Any results?

-Not a thing.
-As I thought.

Any laundry actually in business
would be of no use to them.

-And their vans?
-Almost all the same, Sir: white.

Yes, white as a fresh sheet of paper.
We're back where we started.

But, if we ever figure this out...
it'll mean promotion for both of us.

-I hope Miss Nora comes with the rise.
-What did you say, Sunny?

-Nothing, Sir. I was thinking aloud.
-What were you thinking?

If you make Chief Inspector,
perhaps you might think about...

Marriage. Is that what you mean?

Why not get back to your knitting?
Very small jerseys.

using very soft wool.
-Gladly, Sir! Just one thing,

blue or pink?
-Let's have one of each, hm?

Sir!

-Mrs. Holt!
-What?

Miss Ward.

I'm delighted you called.

I'll pass you across.

Hello, Nora!

What?

What did you say?

Ella Ward?

Who is there?

Who is there? Oh, please!
Let me out of here!

For God's sake! What are you doing?

Help! Help!

Don't worry! We'll get you out!

-Get into the corner, quickly!

-Ladder!

Come with me, quickly!
Get out of here!

Mrs. Ward, Who is Nora exactly?
Who are her parents?

She was born out of wedlock.
Her Mother's name was Finlay.

Catherine Finlay.

Finlay?
But that can't be!

She died in child-birth
along with her daughter Louisa.

Both are in the Beverly Manor cemetery.

True. I attended the funeral.
But Catherine had twins.

Louisa died with her Mother,
but the other daughter, Eleanor,

survived.
I adopted her and brought her up.

She took my name, Ward.
-Yes, so...

Then Nora is...
-Eleanor.

-And her Father was...
-Gordon Stuart, a Canadian.

22 years ago, he left
Catherine and went back home.

6 months later the babies were born.
But he knew nothing about it.

Until recently,
when he returned to London.

He located me, and I told him
that he has a daughter living.

Mrs. Ward, I must tell you
something very sad.

Gordon Stuart has been murdered.

Murdered?

An unknown woman,
claiming to be Eleanor Finlay,

collected his insurance money.
-At least that's what Stephen Judd says.

I think this good man
might not be so good after all.

I want a closer look into
that insurance company of his.

I'll do it tonight.
-You probably won't find him there.

So much the better.

Hands up!

Hands up!

If you turn around,
you're a dead man!

Go to the cabinet!

Open it!

Open the cabinet!

Open it!

Open the cabinet, or I'll shoot!

Who are you?

What do want of me?

I... I've always obeyed orders,
done what was demanded of me!

But I know nothing!
I know nothing!

That is still too much!

Don't worry about your Aunt.
She has guards protecting her.

-Inspector Holt should be back now!
-Yes, but...

Something is wrong?

-Sergeant Harvey speaking.
-A fatal accident, or murder.

At the Greenwich Insurance offices.
-Who is dead?

-Not known, as yet.
-Larry!

Larry?

Don't think such a thing, Miss Ward.

The Inspector would never
sacrifice his pension so easily!

-Where are you going?
-With you.

-No! I cannot take the responsibility.
-I can't stay at home on my own.

I have to know where Larry is.
I could be of some help.

Then, go to the Blind Home.
And watch the janitor.

There's more to him than meets the eye!
-The janitor, you say?

Is this another of your jokes?
-Miss Ward.

If I ever felt like playing a joke on you,
this would be a highly inappropriate time.

-Guards are watching the place.
-I'm not worried about me, only Larry.

I understand.
As soon as I find him, I'll let you know.

-Good evening, Reverend.
-Miss Ward! Come in, my dear.

Isn't the janitor here tonight?
-No, this is his night off.

But what is going on?
You were so upset on the phone.

Larry Holt has disappeared.
I don't feel safe at home on my own.

Forgive me for disturbing you.
-You aren't disturbing me in the least.

I'm pleased that you've come
to me for support.

-No-one knows where the Inspector went?
-Yes, he went to search an office.

A man died there. But it's not known
if it's an accident or murder.

We are looking for Stephen Judd.
Send his description to all ports,

airports and railway stations.

-Sergeant Harvey, I believe?
-The very same, Sir.

Why wasn't I told
about this investigation?

Inspector Holt didn't want
Scotland Yard to be compromised.

-What does that mean?
-What he was doing was illegal.

He entered the property without a warrant.
-I insist on adherence to the rules!

How else can we operate efficiently?
-Yes. Just as you say.

-Sir!
-What is it?

I've found a hidden safe!

-Break it open!
-Sir.

You may stay as long as you want.

Try and rest.
Perhaps get some sleep.

Sleep! If I only could!

My head is bursting...

Just try.

Now then, Nora!
Undress, if you wish!

Where are you speaking from?

Who are you?

You don't need to answer.
I know who you are!

-Who am I then?
-The only man who can see!

The janitor!

How else would you know
I was starting to undress?

Criminals
always give themselves away.

Just as you did!

Come out of your hiding place.
I'm not afraid of you.

Show yourself!

Good evening, Miss Ward.

-I heard you talking....
-No need to carry on with your pretence.

The Police are outside! In a matter
of minutes, you'll be arrested!

-I don't know what you're talking about.
-Of that!

You were watching through that hole.
And you betrayed yourself!

You were an accomplice of Blind Jack!
And you killed Lew Norris!

You took advantage of the blind
to further your criminal schemes!

But there's no escape for you.
Your time is up!

What a pity, Miss Nora.
You made it necessary!

-You?
-Yes, me!

All this time!
You are not blind!

No, I'm not blind.

And you're not a Reverend!
-No.

Sorry to disappoint you.

Here you will stay, Nora Ward,
unless I decide to free you.

The Police can't help you either.

-What are going to do with me?
-Nothing serious, my dear.

Nothing serious. I'm going to marry you.
-Marry me? Are you mad!

Why? You are an attractive woman,
no-one can deny that.

And, in Canada, there are $500,000.

No doubt you've been told you
are the daughter of Gordon Stuart.

Murderer! You killed my Father
just to get his insurance money!

-A meagre �100,000...
-You are worse than Blind Jack!

Without doubt. Perhaps you now
realise I brook no disagreements.

This night you will be my wife.
-Never!

-Don't do anything foolish!
-Not another step!

Larry!

The Reverend!

Such a charming couple!

Lovebirds of the Year.

Too bad, that you are
coming to such a messy end.

-Burning flesh makes such ugly corpses.
-Do with me what you want,

but let the girl go!
-Let her go?

You're both ending the same way!
You had only to say "Yes"

and I would have married you.
-What do you gain by killing me?

Your Will, Eleanor Finlay.
Already signed by a notary.

You are leaving everything
to the Home for the Blind.

I will never sign it!

Yes, my dear, but I'm sure you will.

Do you see that laundry vat?
It can be used to bathe, or to drown.

Without any trace of violence!

So died Lennox, Berengari, Porter...

-and my Father!
-Exactly.

Soon you will suffer the same fate
if you don't obey me.

My faithful brother!
He thinks of everything.

We drown the noise of the
water pumps with the music...

-Your brother?
-Stephen Judd!

The Reverend is David Judd!

-But David Judd is dead!
-Not dead. Only buried.

We put the body of an old tramp
in my brother's coffin.

I donated the Home for the Blind,
to which my brother devotes his efforts.

-Poor Stephen Judd, the bankrupt.
-The Greenwich is finished.

But don't worry, Inspector.
Our personal assets are secure.

In South America. Our insurances
have paid out in full.

By the way...

You lost this in my office.
May I return it to you?

Empty.

It's time, David! Our plane is waiting.
Have you got Miss Finlay's signature?

Never! Never!

Once you sign, they will kill you!

That's enough from you, idiot!

-Sergeant Harvey!
-That's me.

You're working with Inspector Holt
on the ''Dead Eyes' case?

Did you know Stephen Judd owns
the Home for the Blind?

What?

Here is the deed of sale between
the agent and Greenwich Insurance...

relating to 2 properties at
25 and 27, Blossom Lane...

including their grounds.
-The Blind Home, plus #27 next door?

What is it used for?
-27, Blossom Lane...

It's vacant. But it used to be a laundry.
It closed 5 years ago.

Beg pardon. Beg pardon. Beg pardon.

Sir!

Sir! 27, Blossom Lane!

-I couldn't have done it alone.
-Too bad we don't have Jack anymore.

-Now will you persuade her to sign!
-Never!

Your stubbornness could be a problem.
But we have a way of fixing that.

Larry! Larry!

Larry!

Can you hear, Inspector?
Your bride is calling for you!

And you'll both be called
by the London hangman!

Just a matter of time now.

Let me out of here!
Please!

-Will you now sign?
-Never! Never!

Larry!

Look out, David!

Round the front!

Miss Nora!

-Thank you, Sunny!
-Nothing, Sir!

Well done, Sergeant!
In this light & at that distance.. great shot

Sgt. Harvey is the best pistol shot
in England. Haven't you heard...

about his three Gold Medals?
Not to mention his Silver.

Take 'em away!

-Thank you, Sunny. You are a hero!
-Say not another word, Miss Nora.

Sergeant, this fell out of your pocket.
I expect you're knitting some handcuffs.

The World's full of jokers, Sunny.

So you like a laugh, do you.
Listen to me.

There is no better method
for keeping hands exercised...

than knit two, purl two!
Now you can shut your mouth.

Good night.

I have taken the liberty of
anticipating a happy event...

Pink for the lady,
and blue for the gentleman!

-Thank you, Sunny!
-All your own work?

Just so, Sir.

I see you are all here.
Miss Ward...

Please be seated.

Miss Ward, Larry...

I congratulate you on your engagement.

Thank you, but we
only decided last night...

Scotland Yard, thanks to its efficient staff,
is always fully informed about everything.

By the way, Larry, your
promotion to Chief Inspector

in recognition of your handling of the Judd case
is confirmed. You'll get word this week.

-Many thanks, Sir John.
-And you., Inspector Harvey...

-Pardon, Sergeant Harvey.
-No, Inspector Harvey for the last hour.

Inspec...

Thank you very much, Sir.
This is all so unexpected!