Original subtitles

(JAZZY MUSIC PLAYS)

Evening, Gary, how are things?

Not bad.

You're always the same. Relaxed, content...

Always the same. Wish I knew the secret.

Gotta find out what you most like doing in life and then do it.

But at the top, that's the secret.

I like running this club, but it has its problems.

Mm, you worry to much about details.

Got to be like me, take the broad view.

I ask nothing out of life, except for that.

Go on like this for the rest of my days.

Worry about nothing and you'll be happy, Elvin.

That's good advice, I guess, but...

You see you're worried.

Shall I serve coffee now, sir?

Thank you.

Think I'll take a look around my parish.

(SIGHS)

(FOOTSTEPS)

Gary, will you drink with us?

- With pleasure. - And you too, Mr. Main.

Thank you.

- Any special reason? - To wish us luck.

- Always, what you betting on? - Each other.

Tony and I are engaged.

- Oh, congratulations. - Congratulations.

Ms. March. Mr. Pendleton.

Thank you.

You're the first newspaper man I've told.

Headline.

Model marriage?

That's not bad.

'Cause I'm a model, see darling?

Very amusing.

We dance, darling?

Will you print the story, Gary?

The mighty presses wait hungrily.

So will she.

Young Pendleton hasn't got a farthing.

I guess they'll be happy just the same.

You're a sentimentalist, Elvin Main.

And I tell you, Chadwick.

I wouldn't sell that little plot of land for all the gold in Fort Knox.

Really? How interesting.

We never met, Mr. Chadwick.

May I introduce myself? I'm Gary Bax.

I'm very pleased to meet you.

How do you do.

This is my wife, Eileen.

We have met. I think.

(GARY BAX) At some charity committee.

I do seem to remember.

- How do you do? - Splendidly, thanks.

And this is Mr. J. Foster Green.

Glad to know you, Mr. Bax.

How do you do, Mr. Green?

Am I interrupting a big business deal

or is this just a pleasure trip?

Business is my pleasure.

Hm.

Read my column tomorrow, Mr. Green.

You've just become a quotable notable.

Would you sit down and have a drink?

Thank you.

If there is any news value in our association,

it will be for the city column.

Cigarette?

No, thank you, I'll smoke in my coffee.

I could make a guess, you know.

Something like this.

Quote.

Is millionaire shipowner Rees Chadwick negotiating a sellout

to American interest, represented by financier J. Foster Green?

Last night at the Sapphire Club, the two tycoons banqueted.

The latter's looking as if he swallowed

a shipping line, as well as his supper.

Unquote.

You're right off the track.

Am I? Well put me on it, please.

Care to make a statement, Mr. Green?

I think your policemen are wonderful.

And our night clubs?

As good as anything we have in New York.

Well, I shall have to print something in my column

about your visit here.

After all, you're not regulars.

We're just good friends.

Ouch, that phrase.

The tombstone erected over so many stillborn stories.

Oh, please don't go away, gentlemen.

I'll be back later to conduct a further inquisition.

Thanks for the drink.

That's quite alright.

Now, look, Rees, this deal is very delicate.

Publicity is the last thing we can afford at this stage.

Oh, I don't think he'll publish anything.

Who is this guy, anyway?

The finest columnist in the country.

Daily Gazette.

He calls his page: "A Table In The Corner".

That table.

He writes about the people who come to this club.

What your countrymen call a gimmick, J.

Mmm.

Pretty powerful character.

He's entertaining.

Olive, dear.

You're getting younger every day.

Too kind, Gary. Have a drink?

No, thank you.

Oh, please, just a tiny one to mark our separation.

Tonight's not our separation anniversary, is it?

You should be grateful for it every day.

Are you?

Deeply.

How could I fail to share gratitude so warmly expressed?

You know, I think we three make the best story I'll ever find.

Pity I can't bring myself to print it.

Delicacy, I suppose.

You're right, you know?

(GARY BAX) I just hate to hurt my own feelings.

Or those of my wife.

Thanks.

- Have fun. - We do.

Thank you.

(SNAPS FINGERS) Waiter!

It's so much nicer when everyone's sensible, isn't it?

Continue drinking at this rate, my dear,

and it won't be at all nice when you will become insensible.

Olive, darling.

Don't scold me.

Oh, I'm not, Andy, but you have...

(HITS GLASS)

- Another. - Yes, sir.

You disappoint me sometimes, Andy.

Peggy, my dear.

This is a loveliest surprise of the week.

Cigarette?

Evening, Sheldon.

She new?

New to me, Mr. Main.

Copy for the column?

I don't know her.

Anyway,

I'm not interested in that table.

I'm sorry.

I know I ought to have been in touch

with you by now, but you know how it is.

I'm always so busy, you must forgive me.

Say, who would that be, Rees? A duchess?

Hardly.

Pity.

I sure would like to meet a real live duchess.

Perhaps you can satisfy our guest's curiosity, my dear.

I'm afraid not.

I don't know the lady.

Peggy, my dear, how can you be so cruel?

Won't you leave me something to remember you by?

Something to brighten my dreary old age?

Are you ready?

Right.

Hold it.

Thank you.

Don't worry, my dear.

Everybody worries too much.

Be like me, never worry about a thing.

Come on, I'll see you to your car.

We'll have, um, three.

When will it be ready?

In about an hour, sir.

- Oh, good. - Thank you.

They didn't appear to have formed a permanent attachment.

Unlucky them.

(FOOTSTEPS)

I've telephoned your home, sir.

Thank you.

What's the matter with him?

(LIFTS UP COUNTER)

- Mr. Main! - (GARY BAX FALLS)

(CLUB EMPLOYEE) He seems to be dead drunk, sir.

He's not dead drunk.

He's dead.

(CARD DOOR OPENS)

(CAR DOOR CLOSES)

(MUSIC FADES IN)

(OPENS DOOR)

(CLOSES DOOR)

(TURNS ON LIGHTS)

(DOOR UNLOCKS)

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(CARD DOOR CLOSES)

(CAR STARTS UP)

(CAR DRIVES OFF)

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(MUSIC FADES IN)

Joe.

What are you doing here?

Hoping for a warmer welcome than that from my wife.

(SIGHS)

Hello, you.

Hello, you.

I had a lucky break.

I got my final story before noon, phoned it through

and that nice, kind news editor said to have fun

in Rome for the rest of the day and fly back tomorrow.

(SIGHS)

Why didn't you?

You weren't in Rome, how could it be fun?

Specially today.

Don't you realise? We've been Mr. and Mrs. Sanders for a whole month.

I do.

My favourite sentence.

You look like $900,000.

Why not a million?

I'm just a poor reporter. I can't raise the other hundred grand.

(LAUGHS)

(BREATHS IN DEEPLY)

Where have you been?

Oh.

We went to the new show at the Royal.

Oh.

Had to have a look at the costumes.

Boss wants you to sketch for the magazine?

Yes, we went together.

Well, it's going to work out?

No, I don't think so, too...

exotic.

So is this bracelet.

On you it looks good.

First time I've seen you wear it.

I've been waiting for an opportunity to dress up and

look like

$900,000.

Whoever gave it to you?

The man I love.

He bought it for me in Turkey.

Whatever happened to that character?

Oh...

I married him.

(DOG BARKS)

(YAWNS)

(PEGGY) Good timing, Joe, breakfast nearly ready.

(SINISTER MUSIC FADES IN)

(PEGGY) You're really entitled to a day off today,

seeing as you dashed back from Rome like that.

Why don't you get up before the office get on to you.

It's a lovely day.

I don't need the car, you can have the whole day off.

Joe Sanders, are you listening to me?

Sure.

I always listen to you.

Then what did I say?

You said that you were on the town last night,

so why didn't I do the same today.

Why don't you?

You know.

I'd like to have seen that show at the Royal last night with you.

Joe, you hand't drunk your fruit juice!

I'm not thirsty.

Did your boss take you for a drink after the show last night?

No, why is it important?

Did you go to the Sapphire club last night?

No.

Sure?

Of course I'm sure but I'm not going...

No.

You're not reliable but the gazette is.

Your bracelet, your furs.

You right there in the photo.

You lied to me, why?

Look at me, Peg.

Don't make me tell you, Joe.

I don't want you to know.

I can imagine.

But you're asking the impossible. I've got to know.

Whatever it is, I've got to know.

I wrote some letters to Gary Bax before I met you.

When we married, I didn't want you to find out.

I couldn't do anything about it whilst you were in London.

You went to Rome.

A whole week to get back some letters.

(PEGGY) Wasn't enough.

You were due back today. I had to do something.

So I went to the Sapphire club, last night.

Failure.

Miserable failure.

Just said something about reading them in his old age.

I'd give him every opportunity.

I completely humiliated myself

by going up to that famous table in the corner,

with half London looking on.

So,

was nothing else for me to do.

Got to his flat and

looked for the letters.

No trouble getting in.

I didn't find the letters.

How'd it happen, Peg?

Bax and you.

(MUSIC FADES IN)

(PEGGY) Haven't met you then, Joe.

I didn't know what it was like to really be in love.

Joe, I didn't want to hurt you.

Sure.

Now that the letters have gone.

They'll become public property.

(PHONE RINGS)

(PHONE RINGS)

(PICKS UP PHONE)

Joe Sanders.

Oh, hi, Chief.

Yeah, I just read about it.

Sure, great loss to journalism.

Ok.

Oh, sure, I don't mind. What's a day off, anyway?

Right.

Bye.

(HANGS UP PHONE)

This could be a break, Peg.

They want me to do a story on the late Gary Bax.

Now you still got a chance.

Joe.

If you could get the letters back, it'd be wonderful.

Well, it's worth a try.

I'll go and dress.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC FADES IN)

Well,

I'm right in your hands, Mr., um...

- Sanders. - Mr. Sanders,

you and all the other press boys. I mean, the wrong kind of publicity,

kill my business stone dead.

Just like Gary Bax.

Hey, now, wait a minute.

I liked Gary, who didn't? He was an attraction, an institution.

Well, it's tough on him,to cash in, comparably young,

but it's not my fault he decided to drop dead in the vestibule.

Don't worry, Mr. Main, I'll only print the truth.

Oh, now you really worry me.

INSPECTOR GOWER: Are you frightened of the truth, Mr. Main?

Oh, who are you?

Inspector Gower, Scotland Yard.

Alright, carry on, Dale.

Who are you?

Joe Sanders, European bureau, Globe Magazine.

What's your interest here?

Same as yours.

Are you a crime reporter?

- I don't specialise. - Well, I do. In murder.

Murder?

There was enough poison in Bax's drink last night

to make a cobra sign the pledge.

Well, I...

I don't, I don't get it, how?

Well, can't you make a guess? You knew him well enough?

In public, yeah, but in private others knew him better.

- For instance? - For instance?

Most of the characters that had a drink with him here last night.

Names.

Well, there was Denise March.

What about her?

Nice kid, good fashion model, on the way to the top.

Why should she drink with Bax?

A few months ago they did practically

everything else together.

- What broke them up? - Well, true love.

Alias Tony Pendleton.

(INSPECTOR GOWER) Was he here last night?

MR. MAIN: Sure, he was celebrating his engagement to LaBelle Denise.

What about him?

An ex-commander with no money, loads of charm, though.

Violent temperament?

Inspector, the war is over. He hasn't killed anyone in 12 years.

Yeah, that takes care of one drink.

Who else?

Well, there was Mrs. Bax, Olive.

Was she at Bax's table?

You don't know nothing, do you, inspector?

That's why I keep asking questions, all the time.

INSPECTOR GOWER: Well, go on.

She was sitting right over there, inspector.

With Andrew Crest.

As usual.

Sounds cosy.

People don't even talk about it anymore.

So Bax had a drink with his wife and her boyfriend?

Like you said, real cosy.

Two drinks?

- Sounds like a dull evening. - Oh, no.

No evening is dull with Andrew Crest.

Expensive, though.

For everyone, except Andrew Crest.

Yeah, I know the type.

I reckon you've arrested quite a few in your time.

Lets talk about the people that Bax drank with.

Oh, who else?

Well, there was Rees Chadwick.

Now, you know about him, surely.

Shipping magnate?

Oh, yes.

What was he doing here?

He was having a good time.

Everybody that comes here has a good time.

Was he alone?

Oh, no.

He was with his wife, Eileen.

She's a more the night club type than Mr. Chadwick.

They were entertaining an American guest of theirs, J. Foster Green.

One of our big ship owners.

Was Bax after some kind of story?

Yeah, he was trying to get the dope on a deal

that was cooking between Green and Chadwick.

I don't think he made much headway, though.

That's all, I guess. I can't think of anyone else he had a drink with.

What about this woman in the paper?

I was kind of concentrating on real drinks.

Who is she?

- I haven't the faintest idea. - Can't you describe her?

MR. MAIN: No, not very well.

She had a...

kind of grey fur with tails.

Bracelet, like a knuckleduster.

What do you know about knuckledusters?

Oh, we get the all sorts in here, inspector.

Yes.

But not all of them die here.

Who else saw her come in?

Everybody, anybody. I mean, who'd take notice of yet another

beautiful dame bearing down on the table in the corner.

They buzzed around him all night.

She was the last of a long line of gossip paragraphs and evening gowns.

She sat right there, didn't talk for more than a couple minutes.

While he drank his coffee?

Yeah.

- Then he saw her out. - Then he went out.

Oh, how right you are.

Inspector, this is the waiter who served Mr. Bax, sir.

This woman, did she take coffee?

WAITER: No, sir.

When I cleared there was just

the one cup, Mr. Bax's cup. I do remember that.

- Nothing else? - No, sir.

- You've no idea who she is? - Haven't a clue.

That phrase always gives me a pain.

You didn't even hear anything worth remembering?

I hear some pretty strange things waiting in this club, sir, but

the first qualification for this job is to be able

to forget them, kind of train yourself.

Yes, yes, thank you.

Very much indeed, thank you.

WAITER: Excuse me, sir, there was

one thing I did hear. I remember now.

Not very strange really.

Mr. Bax called the lady, Peggy.

My dear Peggy or...

Peggy, my dear.

Thank you very much.

What ideas have you got, Mr. Sanders?

Call me Joe.

Alright, what ideas have you got, Joe?

So, it's a murder story.

Mind if I tag along on your inquiries?

Well, I like you, Joe.

You're on the ball.

On the case, inspector.

Say, do I have to go on calling you inspector?

My parents had a twisted sense of humour.

You won't get my first name out of me.

How'd you know Mr. Bax had returned before the coffee got cold?

He telephone me every night to say what time he'd be in.

He wrote his column here.

Was that his usual habit?

No, only in the last few weeks.

Used to write at the club.

Told me that way he never got to bed.

This way, writing at home, he got some sleep

instead of staying up all night, in town.

Sounds sensible.

What are you up to, Joe?

Just getting atmosphere, home of the murdered man.

The usual stuff, you know.

So you expected Mr. Bax to return shortly

after you deliver the coffee, eh?

I certainly did.

Was a lady waiting for him.

Lady? What lady?

I can't tell you that, I didn't see her.

(BUTLER) She must've been through there.

(INSPECTOR GOWER) Yeah.

If you didn't see her, how'd you know the visitor was a woman?

(BUTLER) Hm, she left her fur over here.

(INSPECTOR GOWER) What kind of fur?

(BUTLER) Hmm, grey one, with tails.

(INSPECTOR GOWER) You seen it before?

No, sir, but I have since. In the gazette, this morning.

Ok.

Alright, you can go.

Thank you, sir.

What have you found, Joe?

Atmosphere.

Some of the nicest I've ever seen.

Oh.

Huh.

I wonder if any of these babies were addicted to grey fur

or barbaric bracelets.

Oh, or letter writing.

Mmm.

No wonder she came back for these.

What's the matter, Joe? You ought to be proud of yourself.

No, it's just that I'm...

beginning to realise that we're hunting a human being.

Do you want to cry off?

No, no.

After all, you've seen us through means and opportunity,

and now you reveal the motive.

All we have to do now is to hang the three like a fur collar

around the neck of Madam Bracelet.

Must you call her that?

No.

Seeing she signs herself Peggy.

Handwriting does not remain constant.

It is always influenced by mood.

Relaxed or urgent.

Affectionate or antagonistic.

The general structure here is deliberate, calm.

But the underlining insight cannot be hidden.

The contrast between this and the love

letters is thus very clearly marked.

I've got the point.

You may have the main point, inspector.

But perhaps the subtleties have escaped you.

I look forward to reading your report.

(EXPERT) Time, inspector, we must save time.

(EXPERT) Far better if I tell you now.

See how deliberately the i's and the t's have been dotted and crossed?

I would even go so far as to say that

the writer went through this letter after

it was written for that very purpose.

A most telling psychological parallel.

Doting the i's and crossing the t's of her letter,

as well as her situation.

Thank you.

You've given me the clearest possible

explanation of her state of mind

of which I was practically ignorant.

- (PHONE RINGS) - Hello, Joe?

I'm sorry, I thought it was my husband.

No, the model hasn't arrived, yet.

I know it's urgent, I'll do my very best.

Eight sketches cannot be done in that time.

(SIGHS)

We shall have to work through our lunch hour.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

I'll let you know as soon as we're through. Goodbye.

(HANGS UP PHONE)

Joe, did you get the letters?

Peggy, he was poisoned.

It's murder now.

And the Police have found the letters.

At least I got this first.

They may suspect me, but they don't know what I look like.

No.

Were any other pictures taken at the club last night,

with you facing the camera?

I don't remember!

I don't even remember that photograph being

taken, they put it in the newspaper.

Let's get rid of this one first.

Tell me.

Those letters.

Anything in them that could lead directly to you?

Why'd I ever write the letters?

We must be practical now.

Oh.

I don't think there's anything about my job or...

I just signed the letters Peggy.

- Your name for me, Joe. - Never mind that.

- Where did you...? - (DOOR OPENS)

I'm awfully sorry, Margaret.

The most terrible traffic jam. I'll change right away.

- Where did you post them? - Oh, what's it matter?

- Postmarks could be traced. - All in London.

Where?

(SIGHS) I don't remember.

You don't remember things like that, Joe.

You've got to try.

Fleet Street? Where you used to live?

- Or the zoo? Or where? - I don't recall, honestly.

Well, at least the last letter then, think.

Maybe over in Fleet Street.

(SIGHS)

Some other in postmarks, when you could have delivered them

by hand less than a hundred yards away.

Analysis later, Joe. Please don't shout at me now.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for all this trouble.

What are we gonna do, Joe?

Only one thing to do.

I got to find that killer if I have to question everybody

who was at the club last night.

- You going to have a busy day, Joe? - Yes, so you.

I'll send you lunch in for you.

Sandwich's ok for you, kid?

Oh, sure, I always dress like this for meals.

(DOOR CLOSES)

The lettering throughout shows a good sense of design and proportion.

She's probably an artistic type.

Well, what about age?

You'll want to know the colour of her eyes next.

(LAUGHS)

Age.

That's difficult, always difficult.

About... 28? Maybe a little younger.

- I'm guessing, of course. - Oh, anything else?

Oh, yes. There's a bit of slight flaw in the nib.

Unusual pen? Foreign? Expensive?

I'll give it a micro test and tell you

exactly. But I think it's a standard make.

I see.

So all I gotta to do is to wrap the case up is

examine every fountain pen in London under a microscope.

That would do it. Take time of course.

(DOOR OPENS)

What have you got for us?

Maybe the big picture, sir.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(SLIDES ROTATE)

Hm. Unmistakable.

The writing and the drawing. Both from the same pen.

That tiny flaw in the nib. Don't tell me.

This was done on a rough and ready surface.

Uh.

A menu car... No.

The inside of a cigarette packet?

Right.

- We found it in Bax's flat, sir. - Hand me the last letter, please.

Hm.

I'll have to make a thorough check, inspector.

But I think you can take it from me that

this paper is the type used for quick, rough sketches.

(UNLOCKS FENCE)

Very thoughtful of you.

- (HANGS UP PHONE) - (KNOCKING AT DOOR)

(OPENS DOOR)

I'd like to see Mrs. Bax.

Afraid that's not possible.

I...

don't think I know you.

Sanders, World Magazine. I'm running a piece on Gary Bax.

Who are you?

I didn't get your concern.

Ok, Mr. Crest, have it your way.

I happen to be a very close friend of Mrs. Bax and her late husband.

If it's any interest to you at all, I'm rendering her the small service

of answering the many calls of sympathy

which have been pouring in all day.

Ok, Mr. Crest.

Please, don't go on naming me. Alright, I am Andrew Crest.

- Satisfied? - If you are.

Perfectly.

And nothing I can do for you.

(PHONE RINGS)

(PICKS UP PHONE)

Hello?

(MAN) May I speak to Mrs. Bax?

Mrs. Bax isn't in today.

I was shocked to hear about Gary. Will you convey my sympathies?

Yes, I'll tell her. That's very kind of you.

They say she's in a nursing home.

I can't discuss that now.

I shan't visit her there. I just want to send her some flowers.

You don't have to. Not Olive who's dead.

(MAN) What was that?

But my dear fellow, please, try to understand.

If she's at the Grayson, like last time...

I... I can't discuss it now. There's somebody at the door.

(HANGS UP CALL)

Me!

(HANGS UP RECEIVER)

Don't press me to stay. I've another appointment.

My husband lived at the Hilton.

He loved life.

And I think he'd have chosen that way to go

in a split second,

no lingering farewells.

Why do you say "chosen", Mrs. Bax?

You can put suicide out of your mind, Mr. Sanders.

Why are you so sure?

The timing.

Gary's sense of drama.

If he'd wanted to kill himself,

and that in itself is inconceivable,

he'd never have done it without...

writing his column first.

Oh, sure.

Will you pass me my medicine, please?

Certainly, Mrs. Bax.

The pills, the little bottle on the end.

Three.

Who do you think could have killed him?

If you knew him, you'd realise that...

it was either a dreadful accident,

or caused by someone

mentally deranged.

Why are you so positive about it?

Please.

Why are we talking about his death?

It's his life you're going to write about.

Well, the one may be the key to the other.

I...

have to take one of those now.

Thank you.

I have to be rather careful

of a shock.

I shouldn't really be making the slightest effort.

Even to talk to you.

Believe me, I appreciate you're talking to me at all.

Especially if you can tell me about, uh,

Andrew Crest.

Horrid.

But so effective for the nerves.

The latest thing.

Rather like, Andrew Crest, I understand?

You don't have to prompt me, Mr. Sanders.

I'm quite prepared to talk about that.

Off the record.

Ok.

Off the record.

There was a

great understanding between Gary and myself.

You're a journalist, Mr. Sanders.

You'll know that Gary didn't work from 10 till 6

and dig in the garden on Saturday afternoons.

Our lives were not suburban,

in any respect.

He understood about Andrew Crest.

- Huh? - Yes.

I had to understand Gary Bax, too.

We made absolutely no demands upon one another.

It is simple as that.

The world being what it is.

You'll agree, I think, that it's unprintable, as well.

Yes.

Now...

on the record, Mrs. Bax,

what were his last words?

Characteristically.

They were:

Have fun!

Thanks.

I shan't keep you any longer, you look tired.

- Make it a... a nice article. - Sure.

You're alert, keen.

Gary would've liked you. Itś a pity you never met.

Yes.

A great pity.

(DOOR CLICKS OPEN)

Mrs. Chadwick.

I'm sorry to bust in on you like this but

there are one or two questions I'd like to ask you.

I told you before, Mr. Sanders, you're wasting your time.

Mr. Chadwick is at the office,

and Mr. Foster Green is on a sightseeing tour.

I'm afraid I can't help you.

Mrs. Chadwick, I am not interested in your husband's affairs.

Then what do you want, Mr. Sanders?

The answers to a few questions about Gary Bax.

I suppose it's obvious to you that I did know Gary rather well.

You were in good company.

I must appeal to your discretion.

His reputation wasn't exactly

spotless.

And our association could be open to misinterpretation.

I'm sure it could.

Life can be rather dull sometimes.

I met Gary when it was being particularly dull.

We found that we had

interests in common.

He was gay, charming, amusing.

That's sounds just

too good to be true.

It was.

I hadn't seen Gary for over a week.

Expect he'd found some new interest.

Any idea who that might have been?

Who could tell with Gary?

Probably the girl he was with last night.

- Who was she? - I didn't see her clearly.

She must've come in when Mr. Foster Green

was arguing with the club photographer.

You Americans.

When you want something, you go out to get it, don't you?

I heard him offer that club photographer £20

for a perfectly ordinary souvenir photograph.

J. Foster Green certainly wanted that picture,

and wanted it bad, didn't he?

Thank you, Mrs. Chadwick.

What about her?

February.

Oh.

- Her? - March.

May.

What did he do in April? Break his leg?

(MUSIC FADES IN)

Sorry. Wrong guy.

Nice kid.

That's Jill.

Poor kid.

What's her story?

- She worked here. - Uh-huh.

Jill Jameson.

Worked here for a couple of months.

About a year ago.

What did Bax want with her picture?

- Souvenir, I suppose. - Oh.

Tell me more.

(MARCHING BAND PLAYS)

Sorry, terribly sorry.

(MARCHING BAND PLAYS)

Mhm.

- Millionairess, but mean. - Oh.

- Broke but generous. - (CHUCKLES)

Looks like a relative.

Yes, you're right, there is a resemblance.

- You ever seen her? - No.

- Daughter of a jeweler. - Oh.

- Did she ever wear that bracelet? - Nah, she's not your mystery woman.

Nice.

Ah, now this is an interesting one.

You're not telling me the rest of them are dull, eh?

Did she ever wear the grey

fur?

Ah, no, no, she believes familiarity breeds mink.

(CHUCKLES)

Oh, referee, stop that contest.

Mr. Bax was no longer able to defend himself.

No, no fur, no bracelet, she relied on her dress designer.

On a clear day you could see Calais.

(BRIGHT MUSIC)

(BOAT HORN SOUNDS)

MAN: Say, would you mind stepping to one side, mister?

Oh, sure.

Thanks.

(BOAT HORN SOUNDS)

Thanks a lot.

Say!

- You're an American, aren't you? - Yeah, how'd you guess?

(CHUCKLES) Well, put it there. Where're you from?

I'm from Connecticut.

Hartford, oh, I know the place well, great town.

Wonderful community.

But this place, this London.

Boy, it sure shocks you with culture, doesn't it?

- You seen many of the sights? - I live here.

Is that a fact now? Well, isn't that nice.

Well, you know how it is. You live in a place,

you think you've got plenty of time to see all the sights,

you end up seeing nothing.

- Except today. - Huh?

Yeah, yeah, true, true, very true.

Would you mind just standing over there for a minute?

Yeah, that's fine.

Mother of parliaments right behind you.

- Your folks still live in Hartford? - That's right.

Good, well let me take a picture, I'll send one back home to them.

Hey, that's real neighborly of you.

Thanks.

Thank you, Mr. Green.

What? You know me?

Just guessing.

Oh. (CHUCKLES)

Smart boy, huh?

Well, uh,

you don't seem to be carrying any initials.

Who are you?

Yeah.

And I thought you were being just neighborly.

But you had an angle.

Everybody's got to have an angle.

Look, no statement.

Why're you guys so interested in a routine business deal anyway?

I'm interested in photography.

- What, landscapes? - No?

Interiors?

I'd like to see that picture you bought

at the Sapphire Club last night.

Why?

Gary Bax was murdered.

- What? - Yeah.

Police are looking for an unknown woman.

If she's in the background of that picture,

I'd have the biggest scoop of my life.

Look, mister. Take my word for it, will ya?

There's only one lady in that picture,

and she wasn't committing any murder.

Well, if I don't see it, the Police will.

(BOAT HORN SOUNDS)

- Sorry. Wrong woman. - Yeah.

Yeah, you can say that again.

Look it was worth a few bucks to keep that from Mrs. Green.

Um.

You don't have to use this in your story, do you?

Ok, Mr. Green, don't crowd your ulcers.

Thanks. Thanks a lot.

Say, uh, sensational view, eh?

Yeah.

Boy, my missus will really like this.

Full of culture.

Real historical.

(PHOTOGRAPHER) Ready? Hold it.

Now.

Finally. Ok, take a rest. I'll just relight the set.

Darling, I...

Oh, uh. I'm sorry, I thought you were, uh...

JOE: Tony Pendleton? I'm sorry I'm not.

(LIGHTER CLICKS SHUT)

Sanders, World Magazine.

You mean you'll really write about Tony and mein Globe?

Really?

Frankly, your engagement is just a

sideline on the story I'm working on.

Well, who cares so long as it's switched on?

Help me out and I'll give you as much as space as I can.

You're talking my language, Mr. Sanders.

Tell me.

Just how well did you know Gary Bax?

(PHOTOGRAPHER) Ready in a moment, Denise.

Not that well.

Well enough to have a celebration drink with him last night.

I was so happy about my engagement,

I wanted the whole world to have a drink.

Sure, what'd the great man say?

- Just congratulations. - Of course.

- Please accept mine, too. - Thank you.

Is there anything else I can tell you?

- Just who killed him. - Killed?

Poor Gary!

So you did know him that well.

Months ago, yes, but it was all over.

People do make mistakes, you know.

And they're not bound to admit them to reporters.

Or fiancees?

All set, dear.

I'm not a cheat, Mr. Sanders. Tony knows everything.

- When did you tell him? - Before I agreed to marry him.

An hour before Bax was killed?

You can't be suggesting that Tony had anything to do with it?

Not yet.

But I'm beginning to think that maybe your engagement

is more than just a sideline to my story.

Please don't rake it all up again.

It can't be that important to your story.

You're telling him everything, darling?

Well, are you?

(FOOTSTEPS)

- May I see some bracelets, please? - With pleasure, sir.

Have you anything special in mind?

Well, I got a kind of taken with the one in today's gazette.

We don't advertise in the gazette, sir.

This wasn't an ad.

Well, if you have the paper, I... I'll try and match it up.

It's foreign. Oriental, I think.

- Got anything like it? - I doubt it.

This establishment is rather well known for British designs, sir.

- Ever seen one like it? - No.

You might try...

You might try and remember last night.

I beg your pardon?

The Sapphire Club last night, Mr. Pendleton.

You sat at the next table to the woman wearing his bracelet.

Why not try admitting it?

How about telling me who the devil you are?

You know who the devil I am,

surely Denise got to a phone by now.

- What are you talking about? - The murder of Gary Bax.

The name's Sanders, I'm a newspaper man

and it just so happens I'm in pretty close with the police.

You think you can get it reduced to manslaughter for me?

Oh, don't kick it around, pal.

(CAR MOTOR OUTSIDE)

Just talk.

Why did you deny being at the club last night?

What I do in the evenings is...

What so secret about going to London's most famous night spot?

Some of the customers would resent me talking about it.

Ok.

You could tell me.

Did you like Gary Bax?

I hardly knew him.

Well, sometimes it's easier to kill a man you don't know.

I think you better leave.

Did you have any reason to be sore at Gary Bax?

The man you hardly knew.

As a matter of fact, I did.

And if you'll stop firing questions at me?

Ok.

My finger's off the trigger. You shoot.

Mr. Gary Bax was immoral, disloyal, and thoroughly selfish.

My authority for that statement is indisputable.

And highly personal to me.

I calculate there are at least a dozen

other men who feel the way I do.

And any one of them who's half ways decent,

consider that killing Gary Bax was a public service.

Like, clearing a blocked drain.

I'm not a proud person, Mr. Sanders.

But I don't mind telling you, I'm not ashamed of my war record.

Nor the fact that I work for my living behind the counter.

After having been brought up in very different circumstances.

But I am ashamed of the fact that I didn't have enough guts

to wipe the smear of Gary Bax off the face of the earth.

The Police will be quite interested to hear all that.

They were, very interested.

They were here an hour ago.

Now, sir...

Can I show you some bracelets?

MR. CHADWICK: Oh, yes.

I see, you come straight to the point.

Excellent.

Very reasonable in the circumstances.

Is that the view of your partner?

Really?

After all this time.

Well, I don't like partnerships myself.

Mr. Sanders, sir.

I'll be with you in a moment.

(TYPING)

And our expert says this sketch could only have been made

by a competent, professional artist.

Maybe you got a Peggy on the staff who fits the bill.

Yes, there's several.

We've got six, to be exact.

But only two work in the art department.

Fine, we'd like to interview them. Immediately.

What were the last words that Bax spoke to you?

Something about continuing the inquisition.

Oh.

That's what I'm doing now.

Thank you.

You mean, you hadn't met him before?

Even when he wrote about you a few months ago?

What particular piece of gossip writing do you refer?

I read it again this morning in Bax's cutting book.

- You've been busy and thorough. - Well?

He insinuated at that time, you were going to retire to the west indies.

Obviously that wasn't true, you're still very much here.

I want to be helpful to you, Mr. Sanders.

What do you want me to say to that?

Well, uh.

Didn't that story annoy you?

- Why should it? - The company shares went down.

Indeed they did. But they more than recovered their value.

Don't quote the figure, Mr. Sanders. But I personally cleared

£ 8,000 as the result of Mr. Bax's few lines of small type.

I'd welcome bad publicity like that once a week, wouldn't you?

Of course.

Thank you very much, Mr. Davids.

I'm sorry, inspector, those interviews weren't more successful.

And I'm very glad that none of our staff were,

you know what I mean, inspector.

Who's taking over Mr. Bax's column?

Nobody. He's irreplaceable.

Thought it might be a woman, just an idea.

Try another, Dale. That one wasn't very bright.

Well, it's become a big business. Lots of people involved.

Where do you suppose Bax picked up that rumor?

Journalist's sources of information are sacred, Mr. Sanders.

Of course.

You mean you didn't suspect anybody?

Now, really. I'm a businessman.

For every doubtful friend I have, I can count 10 certain enemies.

One has to live with that kind of situation.

And learn to asses when counteraction

is necessary and when it's a waste of time.

In this case the attempt to discredit me misfired so laughably,

that I hadn't the time or the

inclination to worry about its origin.

But you seem to have plenty of time to spare for that purpose.

And I think I know why.

You're an ambitious reporter.

You don't just cover a murder story.

You want to hand the killer over to the Police.

- Well, it... - (PUTS GLASS DOWN)

would make a better headline, wouldn't it?

I'm bound to agree that it would.

But I'm afraid I'm not getting any closer to writing it.

Thank you.

I'm sorry that I couldn't be more helpful.

- Right. - (BUZZARD RINGS)

(FOOTSTEPS)

Joe, you're not going to go out again?

I've got to.

I don't know where but I've got to.

Joe, you've done all you can. Please don't go out again.

But I can't just sit here while the Police build up a case against you.

At least I've got to know what the cops are up to.

At least you've now a cup of coffee. Sit down, go on.

Ok.

You look after me.

Oh, it's the least I can do.

You look after me.

Peg, I've...

tried them all.

Everybody who a drink with that

rat, from the cute little model to the big time ship owner.

Everybody who hates him, says so straight out.

And if they've told it to me, you can bet your last penny

that they told the Police just as well.

Now I'm right back where I started this morning.

Peg...

Yes, Joe?

I have to ask you this, Peg.

When you were going around together with Bax.

Must have exchanged some confidences.

Can't you remember anything about him that

might give me some kind of lead to a possible suspect?

Joe.

Don't you think I haven't racked my brains all day to think of some.

- Sure. - (SIGHS)

The only mystery about Bax is why he didn't divorce Olive.

Yeah.

They were the original sophisticated couple.

That's why I checked up on Olive first on the list.

I thought sure, she'd want to get rid of her husband

on the count of Andrew Crest but.

Joe. No one ever questioned that triangle.

Perhaps now is the time to question it.

Yeah.

Yes, if they were so sophisticated, why weren't they divorced?

Quite!

Peg...

maybe I am right back where I started, right back to Olive Bax.

What have we got to lose by another kind

of a checkup. And I've just got time.

(CAR HONKS)

Nice to see at least one customer, sir.

Can always rely on me.

As long as the drink's good, I don't mind who drops dead in here.

Hi.

Overheard any good phone calls lately?

Made any?

Always ready with a good answer.

- Have a drink. - No, thanks.

That's not a good answer.

Say, how's Olive?

You're the close friend, why ask me?

Been, uh,

too busy.

Haven't had a chance to contact her.

She's ok, I guess. We had quite a chat.

So wonderful how she can talk.

And with a mouthful of pills.

(CHUCKLES)

You know, Crest? I don't like you.

You're in good company.

You'd be surprised how many people live like me.

Correction. I wouldn't be surprised at all.

- Have a drink. - I said no.

Change your mind.

Mix of a variety.

Drinking with somebody you don't like.

Inspector around?

No, no one's around.

I knew this whole affair would be bad for business.

Well, it's still early.

Besides, I found it a bit crowded in the bar.

Oh? Crest. That loaf and no dough.

He told me I'd find Gower here.

Oh, he's due at any time, he's due.

Says he wants to see a copy of every photograph

taken in the club in the past year.

So, we're going to the pictures.

Let's hope it nails the killer.

Well, don't tell me you hand't done that, yet?

I thought every reporter always beat the Police to it first.

Hm.

No, up to now just about even. We both agreed that

a lot of people dislike Gary Bax.

How do you feel about him?

Made this place the club.

Where everybody who was anybody but just had to be seen.

Got a percentage?

He did alright.

Maybe, too well?

Listen, he could bathe in bourbon at my expense

if he was back at that corner table right now.

You're talking money, that isn't everything.

MR. MAIN: No, it isn't.

Who is she?

Hm?

(SIGHS)

Who was she?

Jill.

Jill Jameson. Cigarette girl. 22.

Oh, yeah, there was a snapshot of a cigarette girl in

Bax's women "I have loved" file.

Please don't talk about her that way.

Ok. Talk about it your way.

Well, you might as well know.

I hated his guts.

But never more than over the way he treated Jill.

All these other dames they know how to take care of themselves.

But Jill, well, she was different!

You know, she came from ordinary folk, like me.

Just ordinary folk.

I thought I could protect her.

Didn't stand a chance.

Poor kid.

She really fell for him.

And he treated her as passing entertainment.

What happened to her?

Oh, she ran out of the club one night.

Said she didn't even see the car. Accidental death, they said.

No father, brother,

friend who might have it in for Bax?

No. She was a girl on her own.

Mind you, I should have slung him out

of the club after that but I didn't.

You see, he was my meal ticket.

And I've been hungry so many times

that even that sort of food didn't stick in my throat.

Well... Maybe I should have killed him.

I didn't do that either.

You're telling it better now than

when you made your statement with us.

Hi, Joe.

Still eliminating suspects?

Better than that.

I've isolated one.

Oh, really?

With motif, means, and opportunity.

Ah.

Here are the photographs, inspector.

Thank you.

- Going to be a long job. - It needn't be.

Look.

- Olive Bax is still... - She's cleared.

On what grounds? I've made some inquiries...

Yes, the inquiries you made cost you exactly one schilling.

At Somerset House.

Well,

if you know that why haven't you picked up...

I have about as much interest in Olive Bax

as I have in any other attractive widow

If you'd only listen to what I'm trying to tell you.

If you really want to help me, I'll let

you tell me one thing I don't know.

What's that?

Who's the woman with the bracelet calling herself Peggy or Margaret?

I don't care what she calls herself when she's charged.

You seem to have an obsession that she did it.

You seem to have the obsession that she didn't do it.

Hello?

Oh, darling.

Oh, don't apologize.

MRS. BAX: I know how busy you must have been.

Thank you a thousand times.

I...

Can't hear you very well.

You what?

MRS. BAX: You're just a little tight now, aren't you, darling?

You've had a few.

You don't really mean it, do you?

Andy.

Tell me that you don't mean it.

This is some kind of stupid joke, isn't it?

(DOOR CLICKS OPEN)

(CLOSES DOOR)

Get out!

Now!

Stop snarling.

You're drunk.

You wouldn't have the courage, otherwise.

This sudden attack of independence.

Strike out on your own? Don't make me laugh.

You're too much of a mean, lazy sponger for that!

And don't interrupt me, you spineless weakling.

I paid the piper long enough to call

the whole symphony where you're concerned.

So, listen.

MRS. BAX: You're going to starve, Andrew Crest.

Starve, understand?

And I won't go a step out of my way to

put a mouldy crust in your hands.

But before you do starve, how about you order drinks on me?

For the last time! You're going to need them.

(HANGS UP PHONE)

This is supposed to be a private nursing home.

Well. Have me thrown out.

You're in the mood.

No,

I'm in the mood to talk.

What do you want? A story?

You could put it that way.

Put it this way.

Andrew Crest is a gigolo. Without any money.

Olive Bax is a fool. With too much.

Mmm.

That's libelous.

Oh, don't worry.

He won't sue, he can't afford it.

And I shan't just for the pleasure of killing him.

Socially.

You know, I had a look at your father's will today.

Ah.

That handsome document.

Hm.

The conditions of the inheritance provide

a complete stoppage of your income, should you divorce.

Father was like that.

I was 19 before I finally had to tell

him that the stork didn't bring me.

He died soon after.

Shock, I expect.

What's it to you, anyway?

You know, I don't think any mystery woman killed Gary Bax, at all.

You don't? Why not?

Because there's nothing mysterious about you.

You're an open book.

Read on.

The wife, the husband, the lover, and the will. Remove the husband

the other three live happily ever after.

Remind me to sue you for slander.

And it was all for nothing, wasn't it?

I take back what I said about your sophistication.

You just can't realise it, can you?

That a woman who loved Gary

would be driven to almost anything.

Tears, laughter, hurting him.

- Mothering him but never... - Killing him?

Get out!

Out!

(JAZZY MUSIC PLAYS)

Olive Bax, eh?

Same old obsession.

Gosh, you're a stubborn cop.

The case against her is strong enough

to at least ask a few more questions.

I tell you she's cleared. No interest in fresh evidence?

For instance?

Andrew Crest has walked out on her.

Ah, the not so merry widow, eh? Very sad, how'd you know?

I don't sit around looking at pretty pictures.

Oh, Joe, Joe, Joe, you mustn't be unpleasant, you know?

Maybe more unpleasant in print.

Oh, Globe reporter's findings ignored by police?

- That's the idea. - Alright, we go ahead.

But don't blame me if while you're printing that

all your pals printing police hold Peggy, whatever her name is.

- I'll take my chances on that. - Mhm.

Can't you bring her in and really question her?

But Joe, why drag her out of bed? If I want to talk to her again

I know exactly where to find her, safe and sound in a nursing home.

No, what I'm really interested in is the exactly location of chummy.

Huh?

Chummy, Joe, is police slang for suspect number one.

The mystery woman. Alias, Madam Bracelet.

Alias, Peggy.

And it won't be long before we completed the picture of her.

- I'll be seeing you. - Mhm.

- Bourbon. - Bourbon, sir?

(GLASS CLINKS)

Keep the change.

Thank you, sir.

Oh, I see we've got at least one cash customer tonight.

Two, sir.

Mr. Crest has settled his account.

- Mrs. Bax? - Touch.

Night.

Goodnight, sir.

Maybe it is Mrs. Bax's but not in front of newspaper men, please.

(CAR PULLS UP)

- (CAR DOOR SLAMS SHUT) - (DOG BARKS)

(OPENS GATE)

- (KNOCKS) - (DOG BARKS)

(KNOCKS)

(DOG HOWLS)

(DOG BARKS)

(OPENS WINDOW)

OPERATOR: Hello?

Are you calling?

Hello?

Hello?

Hello? Number, please.

Will you please replace your receiver?

(OPENS FENCE)

(CAR DOOR SLAMS SHUT)

(CAR DRIVES OFF)

Joe, you've got to let the Police know.

We're in a worse spot than we were before.

They must believe you now.

No.

I'll tell you what they'll believe, that

I killed Crest to cover up for you.

Please, please, go to the police, Joe.

Please, just go. I can't stand it much longer.

Just a little more patience, Peg. Just a little more, please!

Must be a way.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

(OPENS DOOR)

Oh.

Did they call?

At least we're not entering via the window.

Detective Gower, Sergeant Dale, this is my wife, Margaret.

Good evening.

Simple facts, simply expressed.

I'll return the compliment.

Crest has been killed.

Patrolling constable saw a car parked by the house.

We've traced that car.

Your wife hasn't changed the

registration number to her married name.

She hasn't changed her job either.

Sketch artist.

Margaret Sanders, known as Peggy.

Ok! But she didn't kill him!

Who's him? Bax or Crest?

Will you listen to me?

Peggy wanted to go to you right from the start, I persuaded her to wait.

Maybe.

What have you got to say, Mrs. Sanders?

Nothing!

'Till she sees a lawyer.

- Alright, take a look around, Dale. - Yes, sir.

You got a search warrant?

I can get a dozen of them within an hour, now take it easy, Joe.

Your turn will come, right now I'm questioning your wife.

Without a caution.

Yeah, Between friends.

Why didn't you both come to me in the first place?

PEGGY: You know why.

I tried to get the letters back.

That was the first delay.

Then things just got worse and worse for me.

I didn't want Peggy involved. Alright! So I took a chance!

Listen, Joe, your wife is capable of writing letters.

She's also capable of making excellent sketches.

I'm sure she can speak for herself.

Now tell me, Mrs. Sanders, quite quietly and

if you please, without any interruption.

Exactly what happened.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

Then

I went home.

That's all.

Ok.

Or are you still accusing Peggy of murder?

Shut up.

I must warn you Mrs. Sanders that I'm still not satisfied.

Now, these are the facts as I see them.

You went to this man, knowing full well

that he would not surrender these letters.

You went determined to get these letters back.

And determined to kill him for the agony of mind he caused you.

No, I did not.

You were alone at the table for two minutes.

Ample time to poison his coffee.

- With what? - Nicotine tablets.

Found them in the kitchen drawer, sir.

Exactly what the post-mortimer revealed.

Used for plants and that's all!

Are you crazy?

Anything else?

The fur and the bracelet are in the bedroom, sir.

Ok, Joe, now it's your turn.

You visited Crest tonight, why?

Why?

To try and complete my case against Olive Bax.

When I got there, he was dead.

What right have you to come in here stringing together accusations?

At least as much right as you have to make a tour of eight people.

Who spoke freely to us. Why'd you do that, Joe?

Because you were desperately anxious

to switch the accusation away from the one

person who didn't speak freely to us!

Whose motive, means, and opportunity were all 100%.

Your wife.

I'm not a fool, Joe.

- I'm not inhuman either. - I don't deny that.

I just deny that Peggy is the killer!

Look, for my money, Olive Bax...

- Olive Bax. - Yes.

Bound by the will.

To live with Bax 'till death do them part.

Then when Crest turned up,

she gave death a helping hand. Crest was scared.

Having his bills paid was one thing but marrying her was quite another.

So when he tried to walk out on her, she killed him, too.

All dramatic conjecture, Joe. Now for the facts.

Olive intended to have a showdown with Crest tonight.

But cooled off, never got there. You did.

There are four witness to the time

that she returned to the nursing home.

It's 10 minutes from the nursing home to that house.

She would have just as much time to kill Crest as

Peggy would to have poisoned Bax.

Look.

Olive Bax is a hysterical hypochondriac.

She had practical and emotional reasons for both murders!

That's the way I see it.

And I think I can prove it with your help.

Now, first of all, I must thank you all

for attending here such short notice.

To help us in the reconstruction of the events immediately prior

to the murder of Mr. Gary Bax.

The results of this reconstruction may also throw some light

On the killing of Mr. Andrew Crest.

Sergeant Dale?

Will you take a seat at the corner table there?

And you can play the part of Mr. Gary Bax.

Oh, Mr. Main, you were also at the corner table, were you not?

MR. MAIN: Yeah.

If you please.

INSPECTOR GOWER: Very well, Mr. Main.

Will you begin?

Well, I spoke to Gary for a couple of minutes.

He said something about wanting to go

on like this for the rest of his days.

Poor guy didn't realise he'd only a few minutes left to him.

Those are the minutes we're interested in, all the same.

Yeah, sure.

Well then the waiter asked if he could serve Gary's coffee.

Gary said ok while he looked around the club.

Where did he go to first?

Oh, not very far.

Just about now,

Ms. Marge asked if he would have a celebration drink

with her and Mr. Pendleton.

Who actually offered the drinks?

I did, and to Mr. Main, too.

Did you pour the drinks, Mr. Pendleton?

(MR. PENDLETON) Yes.

Where were you looking when the drinks were handed over?

- At my fiancee. - INSPECTOR: Oh, naturally.

And that was the way she behaved.

She didn't put any weed killer in either drink.

- Did you? - MR. PENDLETON: No, of course not.

How'd you know the poison was weed killer?

I... I didn't.

It was just a lucky guess.

Unlucky guess.

Well?

What happened then?

MR. PENDLETON: Then they both drank to us.

Bax made some ghastly pun about Denise being a model.

Then we both got up to dance.

- No need for that. - Can we go now?

INSPECTOR: What's the hurry?

We both work for our livings.

I'm sorry, you'll have to wait.

While the youngsters went dancing,

did you watch him?

Yeah, then we talked for a bit.

- INSPECTOR: About them? - Yeah.

- What did Bax say? - Well, do I have to?

Sooner or later.

Next time you'll be on oath.

Well, he he said Mr. Pendleton hasn't got a farthing.

MR. MAIN: I'm sorry.

MR. PENDLETON: Alright, I haven't.

But at least, nobody wants to poison me.

Let me know if ever they do.

Then you went off on the grand tour.

Yeah, to Chadwick's table.

INSPECTOR: You watched him?

Yeah.

Was he steady on his feet?

Oh, sure, that was the first drink he had all evening.

I'd seen Gary drink a Russian trade delegation all the way back to

Leningrad.

That was some night.

What precisely happened here?

I think I can give you the essence of our encounter, inspector,

- without any difficulty. - Please, do.

Mr. Bax introduced himself and we were most interested to meet him.

MR. CHADWICK: That is so.

Mr. Bax tried to get some statement from us

about our business negotiations.

We didn't want to make one and we didn't.

He sat down.

Wake up, Dale.

That's right.

And I offered him a drink.

He tried again to provoke some statement from us.

He rather smilingly suggested what he might write if we didn't talk.

But I called his bluff in much the same spirit.

He then asked you a couple of questions, didn't he, J. F.?

Yes, pretty innocuous, something about

what I thought of the clubs over here.

Then he went away.

He said he'd return to continue the inquisition.

Of course, he never did.

Thank you very much, Mr. Chadwick.

Now, just for confirmation. You never met him before?

To my regret, no.

But he had written about you.

You embarrass me, inspector.

Dozens of people write about me, without ever meeting me.

Did Mrs. Chadwick say nothing during the meeting?

Nothing.

I never interfere with my husband's affairs.

And you never met him?

MR. CHADWICK: Bax claimed to have met my wife on a committee.

But that may have been a ruse to get

into conversation with Green and myself.

Now please, allow your wife to answer.

I'm sorry.

That is the answer, inspector. I really have nothing to add.

Thank you.

Now this drink.

Was it already poured out when Bax arrived at the table?

We all had drinks when he arrived.

Yes.

It was as I showed you just now, inspector. I poured one for him.

Then you offered him a cigarette, Rees.

Hm?

A cigarette, remember?

Oh, yes, of course I...

I offered him a cigarette, he refused.

Said he preferred to wait until he had coffee.

Thank you.

Ok, Dale.

This must be exceptionally painful to you, Mrs. Bax.

- Please, forgive me. I... - Let's get it over with, quickly.

As you wish.

Joe, will you take the place of Mr. Crest?

Yes, of course.

Now, tell me. Am I standing in exactly

the same position as your husband?

- Over there. - Over here, right?

That's right.

Now he had a drink with you and Mr. Crest.

- After we talked. - Oh, what about?

The three of us.

We were such intelligent, sophisticated people.

Or haven't you heard?

Yes, I heard.

The three of us.

And then there was one.

Like the nursery rhyme.

Now, now, now, Mrs. Bax. You must really try to concentrate.

Who gave Mr. Bax the drink?

I did.

No.

Mr. Crest.

Can't you remember clearly?

Yes, Andy.

No.

I'm not sure.

I'm

not well.

I really ought to be back at the nursing home.

So Mr. Crest poured the drink?

Right, Joe?

- Like that? - Like that.

How long did Mr. Bax stay at the table?

Oh. A few seconds.

- He didn't sit down? - No.

How did he look?

Alright.

Are you sure?

He looked alright, I've said he looked alright!

Alright, Mrs. Bax.

Alright!

I've lost the one man in the world I really love.

I'm badgered, suspected, made ill with worry. And you say alright.

How dare you! How dare you!

- Take it easy. - You.

You're the cause of it all.

Don't think I don't know about you and your precious Peggy.

Gary kept that one to himself, I never saw her.

But don't think he was discreet about her because he wasn't.

Not to me.

He told me everything. Always.

She's cheap, stupid, and vicious. I know.

He's just been protecting her, all along.

Trying to put it on me, you, you know that, don't you?

It was she. She killed Gary.

I'm sure of it and so are you!

Why are we having to go through this game when we all know!

And right at that precise moment

Mrs. Margaret Sanders entered the club.

(MUSIC FADES IN)

What happened after your husband left this table, Mrs. Bax?

Andy had a few more drinks.

MRS. BAX: And I was angry at the time.

But not angry enough to stand it 24 hours later.

Now...

I wish I let him get really drunk.

Last time, one more favor.

Joe?

Shall we move on?

Yeah, guess so.

(SIGHS)

Right, Dale.

How long were you at the table before

Mr. Bax returned, Mrs. Sanders?

A few seconds.

Coffee cup in front of you like that all the time?

Yes.

Let's see.

Oh, yes.

Your right hand was nearer to it.

I'm sorry.

That's right. Thank you.

Then what happened?

Then he offered me a cigarette and I took one.

Did he?

Yes.

Oh.

You were very observant, weren't you?

Considering how emotionally disturbed you were.

- Was I? - Yes, you were.

He had a cigarette when he died.

I hope the rest of your story will be as reliable.

- Inspector, do you have to be... - INSPECTOR: Shut up!

PEGGY: Of course it is.

Well, how did the conversation go?

PEGGY: Badly, I didn't really get anywhere at all.

I reminded him about the phone calls.

About the final letter I've written,

asking for the return of my other letters.

He said something about

Peggy, my dear, I should have gotten in touch with you before but

you know how busy I am.

Please, forgive me.

INSPECTOR: Right, go on.

PEGGY: I told him that I would forgive him everything

if he would return the letters to me.

He didn't answer straight away, he just

took some more coffee.

Did he make any comment about the taste of the coffee?

He didn't mention the coffee.

Really, inspector, I cannot make up things just to help you.

INSPECTOR: What did he say then?

PEGGY: He leaned forward on the table.

PEGGY: Trying his old charm, again.

So out came the old charm?

Did you fall for it?

No, inspector, I just told him I thought about him.

I just want him to get out of my sight, I want to be rid of him to

kill him?

No, inspector, no.

What happened then?

I asked him what possible use the letters could be to him.

Blackmail?

I suppose so.

PEGGY: He offered to see me to my car.

I was quite calm and

quite determined to go to his flat and search for the letters myself.

Certain now that you would be free of interruption?

(SIGHS)

I thought he was working here.

Yes.

So you both got up and went out into the foyer?

You were at the club.

Mr. Bax turned to come back to the table,

collapsed, and died instantaneously.

Well, thank you all very much.

Joe?

I think I shall have to ask you and your wife

to accompany me to Scotland Yard.

Not yet, inspector.

You've done fine so far but there's one more thing you've got to do.

Will you take my place in Crest's seat?

And go over all of this again?

I quite agree, inspector.

I have a board meeting on the other side of London.

This won't take long, Mr. Chadwick.

Well, it better work out.

Ok, Dale. Get cracking.

You take Bax's place. And let's get this over with.

There was chat about the business deal

between Chadwick and Green, all very pleasant.

Now remember that.

Standing or sitting, the famous Gary Bax is the focus of all eyes.

JOE: When he stands, all eyes look up to him.

When he sits, all eyes look across to him.

Sit.

- Have a drink, Mr. Bax. - Thanks.

That's it.

Famous columnist, celebrity,

nice to have him at our table.

I reach for this glass near Mrs. Chadwick.

Place it here.

JOE: Pour.

JOE: I push the glass to our distinguished guest.

Offer him a cigarette.

DALE: No, thanks, I shall have first my coffee.

Rees, you knew.

You knew about him all along.

Of course I knew.

And so apparently did most of my friends.

Crest saw you poison him and tried blackmail.

JOE: You pretended to agree and arranged to meet him.

Then you killed him, too.

Story ends.

I was right.

You are an enterprising journalist. Very busy and thorough.

Ok, Dale. Carry on.

Thanks, Joe.

(JAZZY MUSIC)

Thank you.

- Cheers, inspector. - Cheers.

Still have to go on calling you inspector?

(CHUCKLES)

Now, your Joe is good at digging up facts

but my first name remains a secret.

Joe could easily go to Somerset house

and check your birth certificate.

No, I shan't do that.

Everyone is entitled to at least one secret.

- Excuse me, inspector? - Yeah?

I thought I'd find you here, we're

assigned to a new case. Car's outside.

Ugh.

Oh, I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me.

Well, enjoy that dinner.

Bye, Joe.

I'll keep in touch.

So long.

(GENTLE MUSIC)