All language subtitles for Campion (1989-1990) 7 Flowers for the Judge 1

THEME SONG PLAYING...

Murder, that's what
we're good at, Paul!

Or should be!

John, if you just for once...

Anything else is an irrelevance!

Point is, my dear John...

Point is, we are not in the business
of publishing obscure first novels!

By obscure French poets!

You do not seem to be in the business
of publishing up-to-date work of any kind!

Up-to-date... I really do
wonder what that phrase means!

Yes! Oldham... Sit down, Oldham.
Somebody will be with you shortly.

- Louis Tournell...
- Mr Tournell seems to have captivated you!

But I believe I shall contain
myself in patience for his debut

in the language of
Shakespeare. Sit down, Oldham.

There's a good fellow.

Enough of this continental
experiment. Murder.

Gardening a little, autobiographies
by persons of repute!

Curley!

Mr Oldham is from Leeds, or somewhere like
that, he has a manuscript he wishes to leave.

- You are a...
- I am a senior partner in a firm with quite clear

traditions of popular
publishing.

Publishing what was popular
10 or 20 years ago!

- Tea, straight away.
- If you want a popular publisher, Mr Oldham,

you've come
to a very wrong place!

Ah, please do not
encourage the authors.

It's very kind of you to travel
all the way from Yorkshire

with your manuscript, and if you
leave it with us, we'll be in touch

as soon as we've had
a chance to assess it.

But please, do not write or telephone me
to inquire, as it's of no help to anybody.

- Miss Curley.
- Mr John would like tea on a tray sent up to him.

I'm not a parlour maid,
Miss Netley. Goodbye.

I will not suffer this
much longer!

And I will not compromise
the integrity of the firm.

Ha! The integrity of the firm.
That's a very rich joke.

You are an impudent fool!

I am also a full partner!

Yes, Puerto Rico.

Wilson, whom you remember left Lydia
in order to exorcise the hopeless love

he felt, not just for her...

- Yes, now, that part of the plot...
- That's essential!

The love between Wilson and Lydia's
brother, which is not a sexual love.

Where's Brande? I want to
talk to Paul.

- He alone understands.
- As I say, he's in conference.

Mr Barnabas, I'm not a fool.

The book I'm outlining to you
will break new ground,

both for me and this
publishing house.

It will galvanise my readers! It
will be a revolution re-experienced!

Good grief! Is that the time?

The following evening, I
happened to be returning to a somewhat

dank and dismal London after
a brief stay in the West country.

Certainly there were no thoughts
of literature in my mind, when...

- Albert!
- Ah, young Barnabas, how are you, mate?

- How's the publishing world?
- Just bundling one of our principal money spinners

- onto the train to Power stock.
- Change at Maiden Newton.

Shouldn't be a tick.

It's not my author at all. It
should be Brande doing this,

but Friday night, and
no Paul Brande.

Sulking in his tent like Ajax.

- Do you know him?
- Uh, no.

Unpredictable as snow in July!

- Of course, you don't know much about us, I remember.
- Oh, I don't know.

- The sign of the golden quill?
- Not quite enough, dear old Campion.

We're in a mess. Well, not in a mess,
but at loggerheads, that's the word.

Is that the word?

Ah, "You whores on loggerhead,
you were born to do me shame."

- Love's Labour's Lost.
- Yes, that's it.

- And you? How are you?
- I'm just back in town for the weekend.

Is Mr Paul Brande really
the problem?

Not family, of course,
so John hates him.

I think I'd cheerfully
go further than that.

- Really?
- Anyway, must go, lovely to have seen you, old dear.

Bottle Street.

Ah, you're back then!

You have sharp eyes, and a
quick mind, Lugg.

Your sarcasms leave me unmoved.

Post is in the hall.

Lugg.

Lapsang, Earl Grey
or Darjeeling.

I see.

Believe it is usual to offer
a choice. You're out.

At the old girl's charity
concert tonight!

That is why I am here now.

Right then. You gonna cab it?
Or do you want to take the car?

I'll go by cab.

Is that the right answer?

So, the fog's coming down this
weekend.

I beg your pardon.

- Bizet.
- Indeed.

The cab's here.

- Campion! Again! Hi, darling.
- Mike!

Gina, this is an old chum,
Albert Campion.

- With a taste for opera!
- I've been to a charity recital.

I'm so sorry, this is Gi...
Mrs Paul Brande.

How do you do?

Excuse me. Taxi!

Your husband and Mike are
partners I believe, Mrs Brande.

- Gina!
- Here, allow me.

Do you know the firm?

Isn't there a Mr John Barnabas?

Very much so. There's a John,
a Ritchie, and a Michael.

Here, let me help you.

- I say, Campion...
- It's quite all right.

Holborn, please, cabbie.
Horse collar Lane!

- Good night to you both!
- Good night.

Lugg!

Lugg!

What these vicars get up to.

Sunday wouldn't be Sunday
without them.

Yeah. Hey, listen, I have to
follow the news same as you.

- You were in there with your Sunday paper.
- And no coffee.

Keep your shirt on.

Mr Albert Campion's residence!

Hold on. A Gina Brande.

Coffee, please, Lugg.

Mrs Brande. Oh, quiet day.
Nothing too strenuous.

I see. Well, that's very kind
of you. Thank you.

I see. When did anyone last
see your husband?

On Thursday, where?

Are you...

Have you considered phoning
the police?

Oh, heavens, it's nothing like that. Paul
is given to what he calls lightning dashes.

- Forget what I said just now.
- You said you'd mislaid your husband.

Sorry, it's me being somewhat
over dramatic.

He's probably in Paris
or somewhere.

Oh, uh, we live next door
to the office, by the way.

- Should we say 4:00?
- 4:00 will be fine. Thank you for the invitation.

- Will, um...
- Everyone else will be here.

It's a tradition.

We review the Sunday reviews.

The men talk shop. Sometimes
there's a literary guest.

Today, you. I believe
Thackeray came on one occasion.

My word.

Firm of cousins.

All upholding
Barnabas tradition.

With the exception of Paul.

Ritchie
means Paul isn't a cousin.

Hmm, not a Barnabas. Hmm.

- Anyone told you about The Galavant?
- The Galavant?

A play by Congreve,
our finest possession.

Oh, yes.

- John coming today?
- Yes, of course.

I don't want to show my ignorance,
but I take it the Congreve...

Oh, yes. Unpublished.

Said to be unpublishable.

Lewd, you see.
Very frank and daring!

- Of fence to public morals. Smut!
- But genuine?

Hmm. Why do you say that?

His handwriting and so on.

Oh, yes, yes. No
shadow of a doubt.

Written 1697.

A size able chunk
of the firm's equity is

the value placed on
The Galavant manuscript.

- Have you read it?
- No wish to.

- I am tired of hearing about it.
- Is it mentioned every Sunday?

Gina's husband wishes
to have it exhibited.

- Except...
- Ah, not quite accurate!

He was prepared to
have loaned it for exhibition.

Not quite accurate, either.

- It isn't his to offer.
- No, well, can't wait any longer.

Excuses to John. Nice
to have met, Campion.

Yes, I...

I'm afraid the row over
The Galavant business has put

Paul at odds with us Barnabases.

Sounds a storm in a teacup, I know,
but Paul can be a pushy blighter.

There's no
point in beating about the bush.

There's been the most unholy
row about this Congreve thing.

When do you expect your
husband home, Mrs Brande?

When, indeed.

I am getting worried a little.

Could he have gone to one of the
firm's authors, perhaps for the weekend?

Ha! That's a laugh.

Gina! I'm late. I'm so sorry.

I was reading the new thing
by Michael Toft.

- Who is this gentleman?
- Campion, my cousin John, senior partner.

- Albert Campion.
- A friend of Michael's?

I'll make fresh tea.

- Do you know us, Mr Campion? Do you write?
- No, I don't.

Fearful business, publishing.
More cakes than ha'pence.

And in the present climate,
enormous risks.

You get by but only just.

Ritchie was telling me of
The Galavant manuscript.

What of it?

- Nothing in particular.
- Good.

We'll change the subject.
Where is Paul?

- Gone adrift somewhere.
- Oh.

And you allowed this to happen?

I'm hardly in a
position to stop it.

The man is a menace.

I will mention
The Galavant once more.

Mr Brande in his infinite wisdom,
wishes us to, I use his word,

exploit the Congreve manuscript.

And this is a matter
of concern to you?

We're not that sort of business.

The folder of press cuttings
on Toft's last book.

- Where are they?
- In the strongroom, I imagine.

You mind fetching it for me?

Of course. Excuse me.

The strongroom?

Next door.

In the basement.

Lined with tin. Fire, and so on.

We keep the safe there.

You were saying? A tin-lined
strongroom, it's very grand.

- Do you think so?
- More of a glory hole, really.

You've seen it?

Hardly, isn't there only one
key and so forth?

Hmm. I really wonder why perfectly
sensible arrangements that have worked

for generations are looked
upon as comical by the young.

I simply can't imagine.

They say the cinema
will be the death of us.

The death of the book has been
predicted yearly

since I was a child.

Poppycock!

People will always want to read.

What you wanted.

Ah, yes.

You all right? Seen a ghost
or something?

No, out of condition, I suppose.

- Fogs coming down again.
- Put the key back, did you?

Yes, of course.

- Anything the matter?
- No, of course not.

- I must go.
- Must you?

- Thank you for coming, Mr Campion.
- Oh, not at all.

Albert, keep in touch.

Um, your concern about
your husband.

He'll turn up.

Overseas sales, 376.

376

Home sales, four.

Four.

Next, The Care of the Cool
Greenhouse,

by Lady Monica Lowden.

Please, don't use Miss Marchant
to check your figures, Mr Riggett.

- Mr Paul has not arrived...
- Check the sales yourself and then pass them on to me.

What is the name of that?

Miss Marchant, go downstairs
and fetch me the Wilmot-Watson file.

Be off with you, girl,
for goodness' sake!

Where did you learn to stand
like that Miss Netley?

This is not a school for
vamps. Stand up straight.

- Good morning!
- That will be all, Miss Netley.

The file on that Admiral
fellow, what's his name, Curley?

Wilmot-Watson. Miss Marchant
has just gone down for it, Mr Michael.

- Mr Brande in?
- Uh, no, sir.

No?

Miss Marchant.

I had just
unlocked the door, and there he was.

He is quite certainly dead.

Yes. Yes. Lugg?

Yes, of course
the doctor must pronounce, Miss Curley,

but you must alos
telephone the police.

Look under.

Oh, but you must. And nothing
should be moved, nothing whatsoever.

Now, lift.

- This is awful.
- He smells as fresh as a daisy.

- You are?
- Riggett, Doctor.

Wait outside.

How did it happen?
Is it his heart?

Does your firm save money by
investing in such appalling light bulbs?

Can you say if
it's a heart attack?

Riggett, out of the way,
there's a good chap!

This is how he was found?

Of course not. On the floor,
by Miss Marchant.

Have you got any kind of coke-burning
appliance here? A sort of central heating?

Well, naturally!

He can't stay here, of course.

- Fetch Benson. Jump to it!
- Ah, yes, Mr John.

What on earth possessed him
to come down here this morning?

This morning?

He's been here at least
three days.

- Three days?
- Do you mean dead?

Not possible!

No one could have opened
the door without seeing him!

No.

Indeed.

Mr Brande has died suddenly and
must be taken next door. Michael.

Will you...

Go ahead and open the doors.
The back way, I think.

Doctor, if you would
kindly accompany us.

I am not at all...

If we all do exactly
as we are told.

And I am telling you,

you will gain admission when
and only when Mr John permits it.

So, take that silly expression off your
face and contain yourself in patience.

Detective Sergeant Pillow,
ma'am, and you are?

Take a seat, Sergeant Pillow.

Where's the body?

Really! We publish
better stuff than this.

Thank God you're here.
Come see, quick. Next door.

You wait here. Excuse me, sir.

Sir!

Are you the doctor?

Yes, Roe. Dr Roe.

- Well, where's the body?
- In here.

He's dead! He's dead!

Be quiet, you stupid fool!

You are?

Mr Brande's secretary.

What's this?

Miss Marchant!

What's happening?

There's been a death
on the premises.

Brande.

And I am asking you, sir,
what do you think you're doing?

I am taking this gentleman
to his wife, as is customary.

As is customary, sir...

Yes, but I haven't got time.

The man has suffered
a heart attack.

He has not suffered
a heart attack.

- What?
- This is a police matter!

Nonsense!

If he hasn't died of
a heart attack,

what has he died of?

That is for the coroner's
jury to discover.

Not necessary!

Mr Barnabas. I cannot, in the
circumstances, sign the death certificate.

So now, let's stop this charade.

Charade?

What we have here, sir, are
suspicious circumstances.

What sort of boiler do you have?

Coke.

Does it leak?

Do you ever smell
fumes down here?

I'm not the boiler man,
Mr Campion.

No. No, it doesn't.

There's a car out
there in the yard.

Is it green?

It's Mr Michael's.

Mike, my pet! What a lovely
surprise, how nice to see you.

Gina.

What is it?

What's happened?

Come to my office.

Has Mrs Brande been told?

Let's get away from things
for five minutes.

Oh, now, now!

Oh, buck up!
There's a good girl.

This is Mr Campion.

Really a very nice man.

Talk to him.

Miss.

Marchant, sir.

Very good secretary.

Mine. Much valued.

You've had a shock,
Miss Marchant?

Terrible.

It must have been.

Go ahead. She's bright.

You unlocked the door
to the strongroom?

Yes, of course.

What I'm saying is, the strongroom
door was quite definitely locked.

You had to turn the key?

It was locked.

And Mr Brande,
where exactly was he?

You see, Miss Marchant,
so much has changed since...

Was he on the floor?

In a corner, under the shelves?

He was beside the table.

And when you first saw him
what struck you most about him?

His colour.

Go on.

I didn't think he was
dead, you see.

I thought he'd fallen in
a fit or something.

And then I saw he was dead.

He was all swollen up and he was bright
pink, and it smelled really horrible.

And he was stretched out?

On his back?

Now...

Could you have missed him?
I know you saw him, but say

if you were in a hurry,
or thinking of something else?

He was right in the doorway.

You couldn't have missed him?

Now, in the room was a hat,
a bowler hat, and a cane.

Can you remember
how they were placed?

They were beside him.

On the floor?

Not on the table?

And was the hat
brim down or brim up?

Could you see inside it?

It was flat on the floor.

Brim down.

Near his hand or near his head?

Beside his shoulder.

Just when he fell... When...

Good girl.

Enough for now. Run along.
Powder nose.

He looked so lifelike.

Yes. Off you go.

And ask Curley...
Miss Curley, I mean...

To get you a nice, strong,
warm cup of tea.

Thank you for answering
my questions.

Two sugars!

What, then?

At first blush, carbon monoxide.

You need very few parts
to a million, you know.

That would account for the pink
tinge she spoke of in the swelling.

Hm. Boiler. Coke fumes. So on.

Well.

Best say what you
think, Campion.

The room is tin-lined,
I believe.

And what of it?

Mr Barnabas.

No. Ritchie, please.

Thank you.

There's only one key
to the strongroom?

Afraid so...

Old firm.
All that sort of thing.

There cannot be another key?

Ah, well...

Curley is guardian of the thing.

Only one.

Quite so.

You'll have to spell it out.

Something rather terrible
has taken place.

Sergeant!

Good morning.

Get a bag for this, Wilson.

- Who's the owner of this car, sir?
- It's mine.

Campion, I must talk to you.

Yes, indeed.

When I came down here on
Sunday to fetch that damn file,

you have to believe me...

Not now, Mike.

I see they've got old Salley,
your pals.

Salley who?

Mr Peter John Salley, Coroner!

Don't you read the papers?

You're polishing my
coffee pot with it.

I am?
Thought it was yesterday's.

What do you know
about Peter John Salley?

The beast of Bedford Row.

Everybody knows him.

Everybody you know.

Very amusing.

There won't be enough press
benches in that court

when they're hear this one.
I can tell you that.

This is a sex crime you've
got hold of here.

You think so?

I thought you knew enough to
keep yourself aloof from all that.

Lugg, Michael Barnabas
is a friend!

A pound to a penny,
he killed for love.

Lugg, you're risking the sack,
I'm serious!

That is what they're saying!

She hated him,
your pal knocked him off.

That's it!

Look, no of fence, I'm only
telling you what the papers say.

The coroner's jury do read
the papers and all, you know.

And I'll tell you this for nothing. The
coroner, Salley, is a right pain in the...

I'll fetch me jacket.

Mrs Brande.

Inspector Tanner.

We're taking statements,
routine as it were.

Concerning the whereabouts of people
last Thursday between 8:00 and 9:00.

I have already given a
statement to your sergeant.

Just... Just a few more details.

You were here in the flat,
is that right?

Yes.

Your woman that does...

Mrs Austin.

Yeah.

What time did she leave?

A little before 8:00.

And you were waiting
for your husband?

Of course.

Have your evening meal?

- Yes.
- As per usual.

No, we didn't always dine
together. Infrequently, in fact.

- Really?
- Yes, really.

Oh.

So, was there some special...

You're having me followed,
aren't you, Inspector?

- Well...
- Why don't you just tell the truth?

You were waiting
for your husband?

I was waiting to have a...

A conference, a family conference,
if you like, with my husband.

Family conference?

They are definitely
following her.

She's not a fool.

She's very level-headed.

When did they start pinpointing
the hours between 8:00 and 9:00?

Oh, we've all given statements
until we're blue in the face.

I suppose it's the
medical report, is it?

They've pinpointed
the time of death.

I think so.

I'm quite desperate, Campion.

I mean, it's so unfair on Gina.

I mean, the police,
those pests, the reporters.

I have to tell you, Mike.

Friend Lugg and his drinking cronies,
encouraged by the worst of the press,

are pointing to an
affair of the heart.

If you accept Lugg as the man on
the street, that's what's being said.

No!

I am fond of her...

In fact, yes, why not,
I love her!

- Mike...
- But it isn't reciprocated.

Anybody can see that.

She... She hated Paul, but there
was nothing between us, I swear it!

We were friends!

Yes.

I didn't kill him, Albert.

No.

You don't believe me.

When I went to that room
on Sunday, he wasn't there.

The body wasn't there.

Forgive me, Mr Campion,
for bursting in on you like this.

No, come and sit down.

What's happened?

Why can't they just
leave me alone?

Lugg, Mrs Brande is being
followed, perhaps by the police.

I think you might welcome
a drink. Both of you.

That terrible man, Tanner's
been around again.

Concerning the hours between
8:00 and 9:00 on Thursday?

It means nothing, Gina.

As a matter of interest,
where were you, Mike?

Uh, walking.

Just walking?

I was depressed.

Oh, I dunno. Blue.

And you, Mrs Brande?

What did you tell
Inspector Tanner?

I told him the truth.

That you were at your flat?

Alone?

Yes, alone! Of course alone!
I was waiting for Paul.

I had something to ask him.

Yes?

My husband and I were not...

We weren't happy.

He was an arrogant, overweening
pig, if you really want the truth.

I've had a look.

They're rossers, all right.

Right outside of the doorstep.

Thank you, Lugg.

It don't mean nothing special,
ma'am. They's likes their overtime.

Like a mother loves her baby.

Thank you.

You told Tanner you had something
you wanted to ask your husband.

Yes.

And what was that?

I intended to ask him
for a divorce.

You told the police that?

I told them the truth.

Look, we may as well be
very clear about this.

Paul was murdered.

After the coroner's inquest, I believe
police will want to press charges.

You have a lawyer of course?

Scruby, the firm's lawyer.
John's handling that.

Thank God for John
in all of this.

Campion!

Very good of you to come.

I'm a little late.

I had to come out.

The awful cold clarity
of everything.

This man Salley has directed
the jury that if they should decide

that Brande was murdered and
that if they know who did it, then

they should come out
with it and say so.

Halsbury's Laws of England.

Never heard such poppycock!

Clever fellow, this Salley.

But conceited.

How far have things progressed?

The Marchant girl has said
how she came to find him,

our doctor and another fellow have
established the cause of death and the time...

Which was?

Within eight hours of his
leaving the office on Thursday.

They're putting up
Miss Netley next.

I think we should go in.

Campion...

We are a distinguished and
very respected publishers.

I'm grateful to you
for your interest.

There has been some terrible
mistake, of that we can be sure.

If the police should
decide to make charges,

I would wish to engage
the very best counsel.

The hon our of the
firm is at stake.

Mike, of course,
is completely innocent.

Shall we go in?

And in the firm,
what position do you hold?

Secretary.

Miss Netley, I'd prefer you not
to hold your chin on your chest,

we have no need of coy manners.

Please speak your evidence
more directly.

You were the deceased's
secretary, were you not?

Yes, Your Honour.

You worked in an anteroom
of his office, or alongside him?

We each had a desk.

In the same room. Good.

Now, on the 28th
of last month...

Thursday?

You say Mr Brande left the
office at about half past 3:00?

Yes.

That was the last time
you saw him alive?

Yes.

And how do we know it was 3:30?

Because the post comes
up at 25 past.

Mr Brande left immediately after
the arrival of the afternoon post. Good.

Now, again you say here
he seemed to be excited.

Suppose you tell the jury
what you mean by that.

Well.

He just seemed to be excited.

Was he pleased? Worried?

Anxious? Alarmed
about something?

He was just excited.

I could tell he was excited
by the way he walked.

The way he moved.

Could you really?

And could you tell us
why he was excited?

I don't know, I'm sure.

How many letters did he
receive in that afternoon's post?

One.

Good. Now, you saw this letter?

I took it from the post room
boy and gave it to Mr Brande.

It was addressed to him,
marked "personal".

Very well. You gave him the
letter, and he opened it, is that it?

Opened it and read the
contents. Did he say anything?

He got up from his desk in a hurry,
put on his hat and coat, and went out.

Without speaking?

He didn't say, "That will be
all for today, Miss Netley", or,

"I'm off to such-and-such
place"?

He didn't say anything.

What did he do with the
letter and its envelope?

He put them on the fire.

Well, we have come around the houses, but
the burden of your statement seems to be

that at 3:25 or thereabouts Mr
Brande receives a letter through the post

marked "personal", gets up, thrusts on
his hat and coat, says not a word to you,

and leaves.

And you never see him
alive again.

Now, I take you back to
this word "excited".

Might it have been that the contents
of this letter created the excitement

you detected in your employer?

It might have been.

But you cannot tell us what
sort of excitement this was?

Are you hiding anything?

Hiding anything?

What would I have to hide?

You may sit down.

The broken ventilator grill
gives onto the garage yard,

owned and used
by directors of the firm.

In the yard was an 18-horsepower
Lanchester. Registration PJ8516.

The property of Mr Michael
Barnabas.

Upon further investigation,
a length of rubber hosing,

once part of
a shower attachment,

was discovered.

The end intended for the water tap in its
original use was considerably stretched.

It bore traces of what
appeared to be soot.

And there were some signs
of burning.

You concluded that it
had been placed over the exhaust

of this car at some time.

Very recently.

And the hose or pipe might reach
the broken ventilator grill in the wall?

Indeed, yes.

Did you examine that end of
the pipe?

Yes, sir. There were marks on it consistent
with having been wedged in the tines

of the ventilator grill.

And what are tines?

Well, the grill looks like
this, sir.

And the hose was wedged
in the broken bars.

Yes.

And that is the burden
of your evidence?

As to the means by which
the victim was gassed, yes, sir.

The victim was in a locked
room. You examined the lock for faults

and deficiencies?

Yes. It was in full working
order without any signs of tampering.

Since there was no key on
the inside, Mr Brande had been locked in

from the outside?

Yes, sir.

Thank you, Inspector.

This inquest will adjourn
for one hour.

All rise.

This place is like the Cafe
Royal to Lugg and his chums.

I am terrified, Mr Campion.

- Please don't...
- Here we are, miss.

Get one of these inside you.

- Go on.
- Excuse me.

Best in London.

I'll, uh, keep an eye
on the street.

What will happen this afternoon?

I gather the coroner will hear
evidence from a Mrs Tripper.

Do you know her?

Who is she?

Her place overlooks the yard
where Mike's car was parked.

The engine was running at 6:50 and
was switched off a little before 9:00.

But in the time in between, she
was out, probably at a public house.

Mike didn't kill Paul.

He hasn't been charged
with murder yet.

But that's what's going
to happen. He didn't do it.

Well, let's not worry about
a defence at this stage.

When he's arrested
he'll go into custody.

Will I be able to see him then?

That might not be wise.

Now, you say in your statement

you were particularly anxious
to confer with your husband

because you wished to persuade him
to help you to a divorce.

Yes.

And is there anything you wish
to add to that this afternoon?

I don't think so.

Well, now, Mrs Brande, the jury may
wish to know why you were especially

anxious to have this conference.

Paul and I were not in love.

I could not divorce unless
he assisted me in the matter.

Had there been violent quarrels
on this matter in the past?

No.

That night, you ordered dinner for
yourself and your husband for 7:30.

Under ordinary circumstances,
your housekeeper, Mrs Austin,

would have stayed to serve
and clear up.

Yes.

But you released her at 8:00.

My husband was late. I
saw no reason for her to wait.

No, of course not.

Now, at 9:00, or nearly 9:00,

with your husband still
not returned,

you telephoned Mr Michael Barnabas
and suggested that you went out together.

Yes.

You didn't ask him to dinner?

No.

He accepted your invitation.

Where did you go together?

To the cinema.

Now, Mrs Brande, you've been
frank and helpful in your replies.

Were you normally in the habit of
telephoning Michael Barnabas and suggesting

that you went out together?

Yes, I was.

We've been about a good deal
together.

You were great friends?

Yes. We still are.

Are you lovers?

You're not offended by
the question?

Not in the slightest.

The question is utterly
ridiculous.

Hear, hear!

You may step down, Mrs Brande.

Told you it was a heart case.

Fetch her a glass of
water, would you, Lugg?

Is she all right?

She'll be fine in minute.

Good. They've called Mr Michael.

I thought you should know.

Thank you, Miss Curley.

- What happened?
- Just a dizzy spell.

My friend Lugg will take care of you. He's
really awfully good at this sort of thing.

Now, don't budge. When the inquest
is over, you'll come back with us.

We've got the car
at the back of the building.

Now, now,
now, now, now. Chin up.

Lugg will protect you.

I told them the truth.

Yes, of course you did.

Just take a sip, miss.

Can you tell us what
you did from 3:00 on the afternoon of

Thursday 28th last, until you answered
the telephone to Mrs Brande shortly before

9:00 and agreed to go
with her to a picture palace?

I worked in the office
until 5:30.

The secretary was there the
whole afternoon.

When I left I intended to go to a
cocktail party in Manchester Square.

By car perhaps?

It was foggy. I decided to walk.

Then what?

- I changed my mind.
- To what purpose?

It's in my statement.

But the jury has not read your statement,
Mr Barnabas. Kindly answer the question.

I went for a walk.

An evening stroll?

In the fog.

From 5:30 to 8:30?

I walked from Holborn to
beyond Paddington and back.

Aimlessly?

There's a secondhand
jeweller's in Westbourne Grove.

I thought maybe I could...

You walked nearly 4 miles to
visit a secondhand jeweller's?

Was it a matter of urgency?

Of course not.

And when you got there,
did you purchase anything?

By the time I got there
the shop had closed.

And in these
three hours, you saw no one,

or spoke to no one
who might identify you

subsequently?

Did you have things
on your mind?

As it happens, yes.

And would they have
had any bearing on this case?

They were business matters.

Well, you came home at last.

What did you do?

I went to my apartment.

Then to the courtyard.

And...

Yes?

I started up my car.

With what purpose?

I was going out for a drive.

In the fog?

I remembered the keys to the yard gate
were upstairs, and I left the car idling

in neutral to fetch them.

You had been walking and
now you fancied driving?

In the fog?

Something like that.

It says here that while you were upstairs,
Mrs Brande rang suggesting a visit

to the pictures. And that accordingly,
you walked downstairs and switched off

the car engine. How
long had it been running?

I've tried to calculate.

About seven minutes.

- Is that all?
- I will tell you when we have finished.

The following Sunday, you had
occasion to visit the strongroom.

The room in which the body
was found. Is that right?

Yes.

The key was in its usual place.

You took it downstairs. The door was
locked as it should have been, of course.

You opened the door with
the key. What did you see?

Nothing.

- Oh, come now, Mr Barnabas!
- If you mean did I see Paul's body, I did not.

It was not there.

So, when next morning Miss Marchant
found it, how could that have been?

I've no idea.

The body wasn't there on Sunday.

Mr Barnabas, is there a love
affair between you and Mrs Brande?

Of course not.

You realise you're under oath?

Do you wish to add
to your evidence?

I've told you nothing but
the truth.

Thank you, Mr Barnabas.
Step down.

Where's Mike?

He's in there. My dear, this is quite
dreadful, but we shall overcome it.

That boy is innocent.

How long do you think?

I fear it may prove not
long at all.

Mrs Brande.

I want you to stay
close to Lugg.

In a very short time we shall
all leave here and go to my flat.

We'll be safe there, and
we can plan what to do next.

Excuse me.

Don't let her out of your sight.

Ship ahoy on the port bow.

I believe you're Mr Campion.

Yes.

I'm sorry.
I didn't see you in court.

No, I...

This is quite a wrong time to...

- Another time perhaps.
- Miss...

I didn't expect to find
Mrs Brande here. I...

You're going to find me perfectly silly,
but I thought I could catch you without...

It was foolish.

Won't you at least tell me
your name?

I am absolutely in the wrong
place at the wrong time.

Excuse me.

Do you know that woman?

Nope.

Things are looking very black.

In the worst eventuality, would you
and your cousin John field the attentions

of the press?

Well, we'll do what we can.

This sort of thing isn't supposed
to happen to literary people.

I think it comes as a bit of
a shock to anyone.

Gentlemen of the jury.

I have summarized the evidence in this case
and indicated to you your duty under the law.

May I now hear from you that
you have agreed a verdict?

We have, sir.

Who do you find the deceased
was?

We find he was Paul Redfern Brande
of 21 Horse collar Lane of this parish.

How do you find the deceased
met his death?

We find he was poisoned by
carbon monoxide.

Just a moment.

Where do you find that he died?

In the strongroom in the
basement of his place of business.

Do you find how he came
by his death?

Yes, sir.

We find that he was murdered
willfully and with malice aforethought.

I think we might move out of
the way a few steps, miss.

That is the first part of
your verdict.

We now come to a final question.

You have declared that
the deceased was murdered.

If you know who was guilty of
this terrible of fence, it is your duty

to name that person.

Remember it is from certainty, and not
from any suspicion that you must speak.

If you have certainty in your heart,
then it is your bounden duty to speak.

Do you find anyone guilty of the
murder of Paul Redfern Brande?

Yes, sir, we do.

Then will you say his
or her name?

We find that Michael Barnabas...

Mr Campion?

Yes?

Will you make an arrest?

The magistrate is signing the
warrant for the assizes now, sir.

Thank you, Tanner.
May I have a quick word?

I can't see why not, sir.

How is she?

Safe.

It's going to be bad, Mike.

We haven't begun our
side of things.

Will she see me?

Best not at the present. Look.

Don't discuss your situation with
anyone until what's-his-name, Scruby,

comes to visit you.

In jail?

Chin up, old thing.

Believe me, Campion,
we will fight.

And fight!

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