Original subtitles

Is that you, Mr. Randall?

Good morning.

Forgive me, I'm feeling rather frail.

- I sometimes do myself. - It's not a hangover.

I have heart trouble - not the romantic kind.

What's your news?

Hasn't dear John got a surprise coming to him?

There's nothing that tycoon of mine can do.

He can't fix the divorce courts.

Losing the firm will really break his heart!

Why should he?

My father founded Steelpressers. I'm the major shareholder.

I control it.

Some impartial advice, Mrs. Sorrensen -

don't mix your marriage with business.

- I didn't hire you for advice. - It's free.

Free advice is rarely good.

Good advice is rarely taken.

Good morning, Mrs. Sorrensen. I'll send my account.

We'll talk when you've cooled down.

I've been cool for a long time. Funny you never noticed it.

You can divorce me, but you can't take the company.

Can't I? I've had expert advice.

- Then you're quite determined? - Yes.

Your nasty, bulldozing methods'll get you nowhere.

- You underestimate me. - Meaning?

0... 6...

7... 6...

7... 5... 0...

'0676750.'

Sorry, I was calling 9948000.

'Were you? What's your number?'

Vincent 7542.

'Stay there. We'll ring you back.'

Yes?

- 'You called 9948000?' - That's right.

- 'Who gave you that number?' - A friend.

- 'What do you want?' - Your usual service.

- 'We like our fees in advance.' - So I understand.

'Be at Hanover Square in 15 minutes. Do you wear a hat?'

- Yes. - 'Good. Bring an umbrella.

- 'Do you own a pocket watch?' - Yes.

'Wait with the hat on the umbrella

'and consult your pocket watch three times.'

Mr. Randall isn't in. Can I help? I'm his partner, Marty Hopkirk.

I'd like him here at 10am to meet my solicitor.

I'm afraid he'll be out of town.

Hang on a minute.

It's all right, I can come myself.

I can give your solicitor all the information.

Good. See you at ten, Mr. Hopkirk.

Good night, my dear.

You are early, Mr. Hopkirk.

I'm always five minutes ahead of my appointments.

Madam is not down yet.

I'll wait for madam, then.

Madam! Are you all right?

She's not answering.

- You're too late, I'm afraid. - No...

Sit down, Mr. Sorrensen. We tried to reach you.

My poor baby girl.

- Her heart? - Yes.

- Look, I'll get you something. - No, thanks. I'll be all right.

Are you sure?

Er, yes, quite sure, thank you.

Who are you?

Oh, Hopkirk. Marty Hopkirk. You must be Mr. Sorrensen?

- Sorry about... - What's your business here?

I had an appointment with your wife.

You're the gentleman who's been meddling in my affairs!

Excuse me, Mr. Sorrensen.

Mr. Sorrensen? Sorry, I have to leave now.

- You're all right? - Quite.

I've filled in the certificate...

- Certificate? - The death certificate.

- Oh, yes. - I'm deeply sorry.

You still here?

Doing the accounts. I'm worried.

When weren't you?

This business is falling apart.

It's the time of year.

I lie awake worrying about the future.

I've no savings. If anything happened what would Jeannie do?

She'd have 50% of the business. Don't be morbid, Marty.

Oh, did you collect from Mrs. Sorrensen?

- No. - Why not?

- She's dead. - She's what?

Weak heart.

That's very convenient for Sorrensen.

I wouldn't be surprised if he'd given her a hand.

How?

It's nothing that can be proved...

Randall and Hopkirk.

Jeannie! How are you?

Listen, I never see you. Next time you're up, drop in.

He's here.

- Jeannie, you all right? - Of course.

- 'Sure?' - Quite sure.

Good. I'm on my way, right now. See you tomorrow, Jeff.

Sure. Ciao, Marty. Does your man ever relax?

- Really, I never see you. - I'm pretty busy.

Not that busy. Have I offended you?

No, of course not. It's just that...

Well, Marty gets jealous, that's all.

Of me? You're joking?!

He's like that.

No, no, you don't understand. This is it, I'm home.

- Home and beauty. - Eh?

Back to your nice warm nest.

I think you've killed him! Oh, no, you don't!

- Turn around. Go back! - Shut up.

Look out!

- Now, do as you're told. - All right. What?

- Keep driving. - OK, where?

Straight ahead.

- Did you see it? - Is he all right?

No, he's dead.

"Give us this day our daily bread.

"And forgive us our trespasses

"as we forgive them that trespass against us.

"Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Amen.

"Glory to the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Amen."

Yes, Mr. Randall?

No more calls tonight. I'll have enough trouble sleeping.

I understand, sir.

3864 - Randall.

'So, back at last. Come down here right away.'

- Marty! Where are you? - 'Where do you think I am?'

- Who is this? - 'Me, of course. Marty.

'I know it's a shock but I've got to talk to you.'

I don't know who you are but I don't find this very funny!

Yes?

'Jeff, sorry I scared you, but I must see you right away.'

Now, listen to me. Marty Hopkirk was my friend. Don't call again.

- Yes? - 'Jeff, you idiot, it's Marty.'

- Marty who? - 'Marty Hopkirk.'

Oh, yes, you want to meet me. Where, exactly?

'Jeff, at the cemetery, of course.'

Whoever you are, I've recorded this conversation.

You're committing an offence, but I'll overlook that.

'Jeff, please listen, it's vital.'

Look, the joke's over. Don't bother to ring again.

All right, all right...

Sid, some nut's bothering me.

Do as I ask, will you? No more calls.

What's he on about?

'Jeff, be sensible...'

- Yes? - Why did you put that through?

- What call? - You left my line in!

I did not. And I haven't put any calls through tonight!

Yes, Mr. Randall?

No calls, right?

- Yes, that's right. - Listen to this.

'Yes?

'Marty who?

'Oh, yes, you want to meet me. Where, exactly?

'Whoever you are...'

I thought I'd check. You are OK, aren't you, Mr. Randall?

Fine. Just fine.

Sid...

Would you come in a minute?

I don't know how to say this... I've been hearing voices.

Voices? What voices?

- Marty Hopkirk. - Oh, I see.

- You got any tranquillisers? - I think so.

- Take a couple. Get some sleep. - Sleep?

Fat chance of that.

You and Mr. Hopkirk were... very close.

It's been a bad shock. It's only natural.

You have some sleep and you'll feel fine.

Good night, sir.

Sid!

All right. Good night, Sid.

Good night.

Jeff!

Jeff, I'm sorry, I never thought you'd be so scared!

You're not dead? Then who's in...

- Of course I'm dead! - You're a ghost?

I suppose I am. Pull yourself together. It's only me.

It's not happening.

I'll wake up in a minute.

- I'll wake up and... - You are awake.

- I am... Ow! - See?

Why don't you stay dead?

How can I lie in my grave while my murderer's free?

- Murder? It was an accident. - Cold-blooded murder.

Maybe dangerous driving...

He swung right across the road! The car was a black saloon.

Tell the police it was murder.

- On what evidence? - Eye-witness evidence!

On the evidence of my dead partner? They'll like that.

- Let me touch you. - You better not.

You're scared enough. So my murderer gets away with it?

- There was no witness. - Hit-and-run is it?

Yes, they've found the driver. A girl named Happy Lee.

- It wasn't her. - You saw the driver?

I was blinded by the lights. Fine friend you are.

- Who'd want to kill you? - I don't know. Sorrensen?

Sorrensen? Anyway, why do you want my help?

- With your... connections... - I haven't reported yet.

Once I do, there's no coming back.

Listen, Jeff, you must talk to Sorrensen, then.

Hello. I must go.

- Why? - It'll be light soon.

"Afore the sun shall rise anew,

"each ghost unto his grave must go."

- See you tonight. - I'll do my best.

What'll happen to Jeannie now I've gone?

- You mean now you're back! - She won't see me.

- Nobody will. I only chose you. - Thanks.

Apart from the odd manifestation,

nobody will see me.

Besides, it'd frighten her. No, you're the only one, Jeff.

I chose you...

I very much resent your firm's interference

in my private affairs, Mr. Randall.

It's quite possible the distress you caused my wife

by your unnecessary revelations caused her final attack.

Don't expect me to pay your account.

You can whistle for your money.

I didn't come for the money,

I came to ask you some questions.

Good morning, Mr. Randall.

Minos!

I'd like to take a look at your black saloon car.

I don't have a black saloon car.

Then where were you on Wednesday at 8.30?

Might I ask why?

My partner's death was no accident.

He was murdered.

Oh, really? Murdered?

I imagine it's an occupational hazard in your business.

Ah, Minos. Please show Mr. Randall the door.

Incidentally, on Wednesday evening,

I was addressing the Scottish Steelmasters Association,

at exactly the time you mentioned.

- Miss Lee? - Yes.

I'm Randall. Marty Hopkirk was my partner.

I see. I'm sorry.

Come in.

Thank you.

Drink?

No, thanks.

I didn't run him down, if that's what you're asking.

No.

I did drive past the place about the time of the accident.

It must have happened after. Someone saw me and reported it.

- Did you have anyone with you? - No.

I'd come off the motorway and saw this sad-looking beat.

I felt kind of sorry for him with his battered guitar case.

I'd come from Manchester and wanted someone to talk to.

He had plenty to say. He was beginning to get tiresome.

So I said I wanted some coffee. I stopped,

he got out and I took off without him...

- right where it happened. - Then he's a witness?

The police think I invented him.

Why? Has he disappeared?

They'll find him if they want to. I gave a description.

He said he lived in Paddington.

Next thing, the police stopped me about the bump on my wing.

I hadn't even SEEN it till then.

That must have sounded pretty feeble. They didn't believe me.

They think I'm lying but they can't prove it.

What do you think?

Hello?

Yes.

Yes.

Right.

The police want to see me again.

There's been a further development.

- A development? - Uh-huh.

- Can I come along? - Please yourself.

I have a photograph here, look at it very carefully.

- Do you recognise him? - That's the beat I picked up.

- You sure? - Positive!

Can I go now?

I don't suppose the police have ever apologised?

Ah, Mr. Hendy, have you ever met this young lady?

- I wish I had. - Cut the funny stuff!

Have you seen her before?

- I wouldn't have forgotten her. - Yes or no?

- No. - He's lying!

- You're mistaken, miss. - I'm not. He's lying!

Mr. Hendy wasn't in that vicinity on Wednesday.

But that's him. That's the man!

- Oh, it's you, Jeff. Come in. - Thanks.

Sorry I let you down, but I've been following this beatnik.

- He's booked into a hotel. - Hungry?

- I'll eat later. - Don't be silly.

Ta.

- Oh, it's raining. - Elementary, my dear Watson.

Help yourself to coffee. And take off those wet shoes.

Yes, Mum.

There's a pair of Marty's slippers. They should fit...

If I can find them.

Oh, yes, here they are.

Sit down.

That's Marty's chair.

Sit down, Jeff.

Thanks, Jeannie.

How are things?

Oh... I miss him.

Funny, but I... I even miss the way he used to worry.

He was always worrying about something.

Yes, mainly about me.

Funny, I thought I'd locked those.

Sorry I let you down today. It'll be 0K tomorrow.

Fine, where shall we meet, then?

Jeff?

What's the matter?

She can't see or hear me. I told you, Jeff.

- So you did. - What?

Nothing. Nothing.

We've got work to do.

I've got to be going, Jeannie.

Jeff? What's wrong?

Well, I'm dead beat and you need some sleep,

and I think I'll go and get some kip. I'll see myself out.

All right...

- Good night. - Good night.

Jeff, are you sure there's nothing wrong?

Nothing.

- Don't let me down tomorrow. - I'll do my best.

- OK. Good night. - Good night.

- What was that? - What?

You're making yourself at home.

My chair, my slippers... That's not proper respect.

- You're daft. - I'm not cold yet.

Don't say that. I don't like it.

What's this date tomorrow? My wife!

- We're seeing the stone. - Getting engaged, are you?

The gravestone!

Oh. Really?

What's she got in mind?

Something in white marble.

- No, on it. - Name, inscription.

What inscription?

She was thinking of "faithful until death".

Yes, that's nice. I like that. Nothing else?

- Lilies. - Oh, no.

- Not lilies? - They're morbid.

If Jeannie catches me talking to myself, we're in trouble.

- I saw Sorrensen. - Get anywhere?

No. I spoke to the girl.

- Which girl? - The one the police suspect.

- Why waste time on her? - I didn't.

She said there was a beatnik who thumbed a ride.

She dropped him where the acc... murder took place.

Ginger whiskers and guitar? I spoke to him.

He said he was someplace else Wednesday night.

- Must be the wrong fella. - No, she recognised him.

I've been trailing him. He's throwing money about.

Question is, where did he get it?

He sees the car and squeezes the driver to keep his mouth shut.

Could be.

Yeah. Let's see our friend with the whiskers.

Evening.

You've brought the cold in.

- You have a Mr. Hendy here. - Have we?

- Which room? - Dunno, they never give names.

Got a room?

Two pounds a night.

In advance.

Ta.

Now, which room? You better find out.

Me? How?

Well, glide through the walls.

- Glide? - What kind of ghost are you?

Try, at least.

I imagine you have to believe you can do it.

Try again.

- Useless. - You're not trying.

Right.

- See? - Fantastic!

What?

You went through that wall backing up.

- Honestly? - Yeah.

- Did I? - Uh-huh.

A new system, and it works!

- Was he in there? - No.

- Anyone? - Two old men. Come on.

Terribly sorry, madam.

- Get a move on. - Can you do better?

This is the one. He's in there asleep.

Hello, Jeff. He's standing behind the door with a bottle.

Oof!

- Don't hit me! - We'll see.

The accident on Wednesday night, tell me all about it!

Yes, anything you say!

0pen this door!

- Get rid of him, Marty. - Right. How?

I don't know! Get rid of him.

- Rid of him? - Yeah.

- I suppose you think I'm crazy? - No... no.

You're gonna answer a few questions.

Ask them, just ask them. Please!

Come on, open up! Come on!

0pen this door!

What's going on in there?

What's all the noise?!

He talked his head off.

He climbed in with the driver and got �500 to keep shtoom.

- Naughty ginger. - Mm-hmm.

See, Marty, it's death by misadventure - no motive.

The most he'd get would be manslaughter.

That's nice... for me.

Anyway, the address is Fulham Road, Tower House, 2B.

Or not to be.

He's not at home.

I'll check and make sure.

Hold on a minute.

I can smell gas.

That won't bother me.

Sorry I spoke.

It's safe, Jeff.

You can come in now.

This must be the driver, the man who killed me.

I've seen him before. The electrician outside Sorrensen's.

- The suicide note? - Yeah, a forgery.

His pals must have found out about Hendy.

- And decided to do without him. - Sorrensen thought I knew.

He killed his wife... No, had her killed. I was a loose end.

Murders Incorporated.

You have to scare Sorrensen enough

so he arranges another death.

- Mine. - Right.

- And we'll be ready. - Tomorrow.

I can't work by day. Tonight.

What do you mean by waking me at this hour?

You didn't have to see me - conscience troubling you?

Conscience?! What do you want?

I'll get to that.

First, I'll tell you what I've got.

When your wife said she'd throw you out of the company,

you contacted a certain organisation.

For a large sum of money, they agreed to kill your wife,

in fact, murder her.

Later you discovered my partner Marty Hopkirk suspected you,

so you arranged to have him done away with as well.

- Fantastic! - Isn't it?

We both want to keep the police out of this.

That's the nice thing about being rich,

these things can be arranged.

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

Marty left me a note about the electrician.

That's why I'm here.

We could go to the law. I've nothing to lose.

You'd be taking all the chances.

- What sort of arrangement? - 25,000.

Draw it from the bank first thing, deliver it at noon.

Either I collect or I do my duty and go to the police.

Be seeing you.

- '0676750.' - I was calling 9948000.

- 'What is your number?' - Vincent 7542.

They're meeting in 20 minutes.

To arrange for my demise.

They gave him a number to contact -

- 0YR 877F. - Sounds like a car number.

- Oh, no! - What?

- I forgot, the sun's coming up! - So?

I daren't stay! The old rhyme!

"Cursed be the ghost who dares to stay

"and face the awful light of day."

I don't care! You're leaving me to the mercy of Sorrensen's men!

Well, what is this curse?

Um, the awful light... he shall not... I can't remember it.

With you, I've a chance. You go, I'm dead.

It can't be helped, Jeff.

- What about Jeannie? - J-Jeannie?

You're right.

And here he is.

All right, I'll stay, for Jeannie's sake.

Anyway, the sun is coming up.

I must call the police, give them what we've got.

0YR 877F.

It's empty. Hello, he's talking.

Short wave, maybe? Get over there, quick.

- Eh? - Hop it, Hoppy!

'He's expecting me to pay him.'

- Give me a description. - He's six feet tall,

lean, clean-shaven, medium brown hair.

You're right, short-wave radio. They must be nearby.

- A dark grey suit? - Yes.

They've got shooters!

What are you doing here? It's daylight.

The rhyme was right. I couldn't get in. The grave rejected me.

Look at her. Look at Jeannie. How she loves me.

- What are you gonna do? - Come and help you.

- That'll help her. - Is this curse forever?

- No, not forever. - How long?

I've remembered the rhyme.

"He shall not unto the grave return

"until a hundred years be gone."

- A hundred years? - A hundred years.

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