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Evening.
Good evening.

Thank you.

Oh, good evening, Dr Marlowe.

Hmm... I see that fellow Richards
has gone to his maker.

Dispatched this morning
by the public hangman.

I am sure that the world's
better off without chaps like that.

I read all about the case.

Richards was evil,
through and through.

Undoubtedly evil
from his very conception.

No man is born evil.

On the contrary, I think with Rousseau
that men are basically good.

It is only society and circumstances
which makes them evil.

And we have laws to deal with those

who stray from the
straight and narrow path.

- Evening, Enfield.
- Good evening, Charles.

- Hello, Frederick. Lao yon.
- Good evening.

We were talking about
good and evil in man.

Enfield maintains that
some men are born evil.

Dr Lao yon thinks that
men are born fundamentally good,

and corrupted only by society.

I wonder what you think,
my dear fellow?

Every human personality
has two sides.

And, what's more, I think
that they can be separated.

Oh, come, come, now, Dr Marlowe!

Dr Lao yon and I have
discussed this matter before.

It's bad enough you practicing
the ideas of this...

Dr Freud of Vienna.

But your own theories,

they're even more dangerous.

There was no need
to wait up for me, Poole.

I shall be going to the
laboratory for a short while.

- You can lock up for the night.
- Very good, sir.

- Good night.
- Good night, sir.

Suppose that what
Dr Marlowe said were true?

Suppose that, just for a while,

we could let loose the reins,

fulfill our desires,

without restriction,

without control.

- I think I might choose evil.

But surely the essence of
civilization is the restriction

of individual appetites
by the individual himself,

for the good of all mankind?

Hmm. Well, for my part, I...
I don't know.

In old age, temptations are great,

as we see fulfillment of our desires

slip away from us.
—

But then, let us thank Heaven
it is a choice

which none of us here
will be called upon to make.

Nor will Dr Marlowe, I fancy.

- Yes?
- Poole, sir.

Miss Thomas is in the front hall, sir,
and she's most anxious to see you.

At this time of night?

I fear, sir, she says
she must see you.

Very well, I'll...

- I'll see her in... in the study.
- Very good, sir.

I'm sorry to disturb you so late,
but I had to see you.

What can I do for you, Miss Thomas?

- I don't know.

I felt an overwhelming sadness.

The world seemed...

bleak,

hopeless.

I felt I couldn't
live through the night.

That's why I came to see you.

I told you when we started
that the method that I'm using

is something entirely new.

It was discovered by Dr Freud,
some years ago.

The ideas have not yet
been fully worked out, and, er...

its efficiency has not
as yet been fully proved.

But, with some of my patients,

I consider it's worth taking the risk
of trying this method.

May I try to talk to you again?

There's something
I feel I must say.

Perhaps tonight?

Very well.

Please.

It's no good.
There's absolutely nothing.

You must think I'm a fool.

There's just nothing.

You mustn't worry about it.
It happens to lots of people.

But it happens all the time with me.

You wait for me
to say something.

You expect me to
tell you what I'm thinking,

and I can't say anything.

I feel I'm letting you down.

I'm letting my parents down.

They're paying for the treatment.
They expect it to help me.

I know you said
the result depends on me,

but can't you do
anything to help me?

Please?

Miss Thomas,

would you be willing
to try something,

the result of which
cannot be predicted, but...

which I believe sincerely would be
of considerable help to us both?

I'll try anything.

Do you like me?

Yes, I...
I like you, Miss Thomas.

I mean, really like me?

Say it.

Say that you like me.
As a woman.

Mmm...

Do I shock you, Charles?

My dear, respectable doctor.

Can you resist

the body of a woman?

How could I?

I feel so ashamed.

Ashamed of what?

Ashamed of having
thoughts like that.

I don't have thoughts like that.
Believe me, I don't.

But you do.

The drug showed us that.

It shows a part of yourself
that you try to keep from admitting

is a part of yourself.
It shows what you repress.

Because it's wicked.

It's because your parents,
and others around you,

tell you it's wicked
to have such desires.

They disapprove of such feelings.

They're very human desires.

There's nothing wrong
with having them at all.

Seeing them in yourself

is the beginning of
accepting them in yourself.

You won't use your drug
on me again, will you?

No, that won't be necessary.

Are we drinking alone tonight?

If I looked like that, a woman would
be sure to have been the cause of it.

But with our Dr Marlowe,
it's probably only a patient.

- Not exactly.
- What, then?

An idea, really.

Dr Freud maintains
that a great deal of illness

is not physical in origin.

Rather, the result of a patient

trying to repress
in his unconscious

a part of himself that he will
not allow his conscious self to admit.

But supposing a way could be found
of accelerating that process,

by the use of a drug,
physically harmless, of course,

that would break down
the barriers of the unconscious?

Are you trying to tell us
that you have found such a drug?

I'm not entirely sure.

I have experimented with a drug on
some of the animals in my laboratory.

Some of them were scared,
and shrank back in their cages.

They were frightened
of all the other animals,

indeed, of everything around them.

If I had not revived them
with an antidote,

they would probably
have starved to death.

Others that were formerly
quite mild in character

became bold, aggressive,
and ferocious.

And it was impossible to foretell

what the reaction would be
with any one particular animal.

Then it doesn't just break
down the barriers of the unconscious,

it does something else?

Yes.

What?

I don't know.

Have you tried it on your patients?

—Yes'?
- Poole speaking, sir.

Mr Deane is here for his appointment.

Show him in, will you?

I don't know why I come to you.

Perhaps it's because
no other doctor will admit

that, although
your ailments are painful,

they have no physical cause.

You know, you really
have a very easy life.

All you do is listen
to people talking all day.

I make decisions!
Take risks!

Make plans!
Tell people what to do!

It's a hard job, and it takes
a hard man to do it.

So, when are you going to
tell me something?

What the hell do you think
I pay you for? I want results!

- Don't you think we've been getting them?
- No, I do not.

Mr Deane,

there is a way
we can get results.

No, no, not again.

Don't hurt me again.

Don't hurt me. I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to...

I know you know
what's best for me.

I'll be a good boy.

I Will!

I promise you
I'll be a good boy.

Marlowe!

Come and join us.

A double whisky for our friend.

You look as if you need it.

It's... It's this drug
I've been telling you about.

I'm absolutely convinced that
it has a therapeutic value, but

it turns one person
into an angel,

another one into a fiend,

one into a child...

Does it have the same effect
on the same person

a second time?

I don't know.
I can hardly

subject my patients
to endless experiments.

But I'll...

I'll find out.

What's been happening
recently has so disturbed me

that I felt I had to
come and see you.

Here am I, practising as
a healer of minds,

and I'm beginning to discover things
I didn't even know existed.

It's almost as if it were true.

- What is?
- The common factor,

between the drugs
that I'm giving my patients,

and the animals
in my laboratory.

It didn't do
different things to them.

It did the same thing.

Or almost the same.

- And it fits.
- Fits what?

The theories I've been
using with my patients.

The ideas of Dr Freud.

What are the three elements into
which he divides the human psyche?

First,

the primitive drive,
the id, as he terms it.

The part of us that is
unconscious, amoral, unrestricted.

And then, the ego.

Conscious, logical, and realistic.

And finally, the superego.

Moral, critical,

guilt-forming.

Now, suppose the drug destroyed

all but one part
of the personality?

If it destroyed the primitive part...

He would be all superego.

Docile, compliant,

afraid of offending,
well-behaved.

A conscience-ridden child.

And if it destroyed the superego?

Then he would have no conscience,
no guilt, no shame.

He would give way
to every blind impulse,

every repressed desire,
every secret wish.

He would be the most
dangerous human being on Earth.

A monster.

What's the idea, mister?

I want a room.

Come back tomorrow.

I want a room.

Now.

For how long?

For a night.

For a week.

For...

longer.

It's four shillings a week,
paid in advance.

A month in advance.

Oi!

He's all right.

This is strange.

Here's a report on a series
of mysterious crimes

committed recently in Soho.

Robberies, in which
the items were not taken,

but destroyed,

and assaults with
no apparent motive.

Crimes, so far as
the police can see,

committed solely for
the joy of committing them.

There are no such crimes.

I saw something the other day

that I'd call a crime of...

pure evil.

Now, this is where it happened,

three nights ago,

and it's a story with
a very strange ending.

Indeed?

I was coming home from...

oh, some place at
the end of the world,

about three o'clock
of a black winter's morning.

The streets were
as silent as a tomb.

Street after street, empty.
Everyone asleep.

Then, all at once,

I saw two figures.

One was a man,

coming from this direction.

The other a girl,
of perhaps six or seven,

who was running
as hard as she was able,

from the doorway of
that church over there.

The two of them ran into
one another, naturally enough,

at this corner.

But, then came the
horrible part of the thing.

For, having knocked the child down,

the man trampled
calmly over her body,

and left her
lying on the ground.

Good Lord!

Of course, I chased after him,

collared the gentleman,
and brought him back

to where there was already

quite a group
round the injured child.

Well, we ran him
up to a hundred pounds

for the sake of the child's family.

But, at the hundred he stuck.

The next thing was
to get the money.

And where do you think
he carried us,

but to some grimy back door
just round that corner,

whipped out a key, went in,

and presently came back with
a matter of ten pounds in gold,

and a cheque for the balance
on Coutts,

drawn "payable to bearer".

I was curious to see how
the situation would turn out,

particularly for a reason
that I'll tell you in a moment.

So we all went to the
home of the child's parents,

and waited till morning.

Then, we went to the bank,

where the man signed
the back of the cheque,

and it was cashed without question.
I was amazed.

Well, why?

Because the signature
on the cheque

was that of none other
than our friend

Dr Charles Marlowe.

What was the name of the man
who trampled on the child?

Er... Blake. Edward Blake.

Does it mean anything to you?

- Do you know where Marlowe lives?
- No.

There.

But that's the door
I was telling you about!

Yes, and it must lead
into Marlowe's house.

And this Mr Blake?

Well, obviously,
he's a blackmailer.

Otherwise, why should
Marlowe give him money?

If we should inform the police?

That is exactly what Marlowe
must be trying to avoid,

or he would have
gone to them himself. No.

No, not the police.

Dr Lao yon.

I'm afraid Dr Marlowe and I

haven't spoken for some weeks.

Not spoken?

But he's always looked up to you,
admired you.

You're not only his mentor,
but his friend.

Yes, I was. I was.
But we had a quarrel.

Not one, several.

- May I ask...?
- Over that unscientific balderdash

on which he's wasting his time.

A drug,

which he claims can turn a person
into someone totally good,

in the way the world looks at "good",

or totally evil.

Have you ever come across
a protégé of his?

A man called Edward Blake?

No, I... I don't think I have.

- Why do you ask?
- Oh, it was nothing important.

I just wondered.

"In the case of my disappearance,

"or unexplained absence for any period
exceeding three calendar months,

"all my possessions will pass into
the hands of my friend and benefactor,

"Edward Blake, of number 6,
Fleet Chambers, London."

MAN“.
Took your time, didn't you?

- Is Dr Marlowe at home?
- I'll see, Mr Utterson.

- Will you come in, sir?
- Thank you.

Will you wait here
by the fire, sir,

or shall I give you
a light in the dining room?

- I'll wait here.
- Yes, sir.

I'm sorry, sir, but
Dr Marlowe's gone out.

- Poole?
- Yes, sir?

Is there another door
to Dr Marlowe's laboratory?

Er... yes, sir.
It leads to the garden.

And is there another
entrance to the garden?

Yes, sir. There's a door
which leads to the street.

I saw a man go through that door
just a few moments ago.

Why, Mr Utterson, sir,
it must have been Mr Blake.

- You know him?
- Yes, sir. Mr Blake has a key.

Your master seems to repose
a great deal of trust in him.

He does indeed, sir.

We all have orders to obey him.

He told me that everyone in the house
had orders to obey Blake.

- Really?
- This blackmailer has gone too far.

There must be some way
to help Marlowe.

There must be.

Good evening.

Mr Blake?

I've been wanting to
speak to you, Charles,

about that will of yours.

You must think of me as a
most inconsiderate client.

I never knew a man so disturbed
as you were about that will.

- Thank you.
- Unless it was that hide-bound pedant Lao yon,

at what he terms my
"scientific heresies".

But, I can assure you, I knew
what I was about when I made it.

I have never approved of your will,
and I'll tell you so again.

You don't understand
my position, Frederick.

You don't understand it at all!

It's a very strange one.

Very strange indeed.
But, I can assure you,

that I can be rid of Mr Blake
any time I choose.

Then get rid of him, I beg you,
for your own sake.

You led a happy life until
you became involved with this man.

Happy?

How well did you know my father?

Well, I hardly knew him at all.
My father and he were friends.

Like all fashionable doctors,

my father carried
a gold-headed cane.

He used it for other things
besides walking.

Your friend Blake
carries such a cane.

My friend Blake

has discovered the pleasures
of what the world calls "evil",

of doing what one wants to do,
without restraint,

without conscience,
without penalty.

Or rather, without
any penalty but one.

The face of evil is...

ugly to look upon.

And, as the pleasures increase,

the face becomes...

uglier.

Gin.

One for her.

It's not anyone who can
buy me a drink, you know.

Oh, sure, I'm having a hard time.

Only with me it's worse.

It's my head, you see.

It hurts.

I used to work.

Used to earn money.

You try brushing enamel
sixteen hours a day.

Harriet still does.

She's my sister.

She doesn't mind my having visitors.

Just so long as we
don't make too much noise.

But then you're not one of
the noisy type, are you?

Hey, Annie!

I thought you was
walking out with me?

This lady's with me.

- Oh, is she?
- Yes.

What would I be doing
with an ugly thing like you?

Bye!

Oh, it's you!

All right!

All right!

Well,

what are you waiting for?

Excuse me. Move back.

Murder!

Dockland murder!
Read all about it!

Dockland murder!
Read all about it! Vicious killing!

Read all about it!
Dockland murder!

Vicious Dockland murder!
Read all about it!

Read all about it!

- I must see Dr Marlowe.
- I'm afraid... but, sir...

He's in his laboratory, sir, but
he said he wasn't to be disturbed.

Tell him it concerns
Mr Edward Blake.

You've heard the news?

I heard them crying it in the street.
I was in my dining room.

Poor child.

I have reason to believe that
the murderer was Edward Blake.

What reason?

The gold-headed cane
found near the body.

It was exactly the same as
the one Blake was carrying,

the night I confronted him.

There are many such canes,
no doubt.

Not so many men capable
of committing such a murder.

All men are capable
of committing crimes.

Please, Charles.

Provided they are not restrained
by the good that is in them.

That is not the way you spoke
the last time we discussed the subject.

I've...

Changed my mind.

As for Edward Blake,

I have done with him.

I give you my word that

we shall never
set eyes on him again.

You seem very sure of him?

Oh, I am...

quite sure.

I received a letter
from him this morning,

thanking me for all
I'd done for him,

and telling me that
he was leaving the country

for ever.

Do you have the envelope?

I... I burnt it before I knew
what I was at.

It... It bore no postmark,
should you wish to trace it.

It was delivered by messenger.

You... You may show it
to the police,

or not, as you will.

Was it Blake who dictated
the terms of your will?

I knew it.

He meant to murder you.

You've had a lucky escape.

I've had what is

more to the purpose.

I've had a lesson.

Charles...

Goodbye, Charles.

- By the way, Poole...
- Yes, sir?

A letter was delivered
by hand today.

Could you describe
the messenger?

A letter, sir?

There was no letter delivered
by messenger today, sir.

Nothing came except by post,

and only circulars with that.

Very similar.

Is Dr Marlowe at home?

No, sir. He went out
about half an hour ago.

- Did he say where he was going?
- No, sir.

- I'll wait for him.
- Very good, sir.

Ugh!

- Poole.
- Yes, sir?

- I cannot wait any longer.
- Very good, sir.

When Dr Marlowe returns,
tell him I must see him.

Ask him if he'd be good enough
to call on me later this evening.

Yes, sir.
And if Mr Blake should appear,

bar the doors,
and inform the police.

Yes, sir. Good night, sir.
Good night.

Who is it?

"If you value the friendship
we once had for each other,

"you must help me."

I received this letter
from Dr Marlowe.

It asks me to get some items
from his laboratory.

Will you show me where it is?

- Where is Dr Marlowe?
- I don't know.

He says in the letter
that he'll come to see me

after I have obtained the items.

- Will you come this way, sir?
- Thank you.

Who are you?

Where is Dr Marlowe?

What has happened to him?

For God's sake, let me go!

Please.

If you try to leave...

I will try to prevent you.

And, in the struggle,

that bottle you hold so precious,

might easily get broken.

Come, now.

Where is Dr Marlowe?

Very well.

I've pleaded with you
to let me leave in peace,

but you refused.

Just as you refused
to believe Dr Marlowe.

Now, look!

Oh, God!

God!

- Sir...
- Yes?

Mr Utterson was here
earlier this evening,

and Dr Lao yon was here.

- He had a letter, which is...
- Did he give it to you?

- Yes, sir.
- Well, burn it!

As for Mr Utterson,
tell him I'm out.

Whenever he calls in future,
tell him I'm out.

I'm going to the laboratory.
I don't want to be disturbed!

Utterson.

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