All language subtitles for A Cry in the Night (1956)

That must have cost him a bomb.

Couple of hundred Gs?
But what's money to Boy Buckley?

- Pop this, Peter.
- Starting without our host?

Boy won't mind.
Anyway, he did say seven, Rupert.

Oh, here comes Stephen Crane.

(Rupert) Closely followed by
the O'Dells, I see.

- I'd better get some more glasses.
- Who else is coming?

Evening, my dears. You do realise
we're taking our lives in our hands?

- Who's gonna steer this thing?
- (Rupert) Boy, I suppose, it's his boat.

Then we'll not get out of the harbour -
the entrance is only a hundred yards wide.

- Champers, lovely. Thank you, Emerald.
- (Tommy ) Hi, fans.

- (Sally) You look wonderful, darling.
- Is this the good trip Lollipop?

- The master mariner isn't here yet.
- We just saw him parking the limo.

- Are we going far?
- Just outside the harbour, Boy said.

- (Emerald) Away from prying eyes.
- Cheers.

I have a feeling
this is going to be quite a night.

Well, I have a feeling
it's going to be an absolute disaster.

- (Stephen ) Oh, my God. Will you look at that?
- Everyone here?

Looks like something out of HMS Pinafore

as performed by
the Balham Boys' Choir.

Sorry we're late.

Boy, that uniform
is really something else.

- You like it!
- Darling, you look utterly edible.

Come here. (Laughs )

It's great to see you all.

Er, Peter, cast off for'ard, will you?

Tom, aft.

Come on!
Let's get this show on the road.

I'm going to sit right here in the middle
where I can't see the water.

Em?

Come up here, kitten.
I'll show you which knobs to pull.

- I think Emerald has been chosen.
- Oh.

Jealous already, Rupert, darling?

(Engine starts )

(Jim ) Rupert Galliers, aged 40.

Missing, presumed drowned.

His wife, we think,
went overboard with him.

- They are trying to pump her out now.
- And nobody saw what happened?

No, according to the statements
they were all down below.

I'm off down to the hospital to see if
Emerald Galliers can tell us anything.

Weekend sailors! How often do we get this?

Yeah, but not too many
in that tax bracket, eh?

(Doctor) We are doing
everything possible, Sergeant.

(Jim ) What's her chances?

Not good. But she's young and healthy,
she might pull through.

The rescue team said her heart stopped twice
on the way in.

(Doctor) The main problem is
she's showing no signs of brain life.

If the brain stem is dead,
there's nothing anyone can do.

Nothing?

In these cases we just hang on
for a few days and hope.

As you can see,
her heart function is fine now.

If there's any change -
you know, any change at all -

give us a ring.

(Drums pounding)

Somebody to...

- You cow! I'll kill you!
- (Screaming)

Please, don't!

- Police?
- Sergeant Bergerac.

That's what I came
to tell you... darling!

- Stupid bitch!
- Hey, hey, hey.

Look what she done.

- Why?
- Just getting his attention.

He's deaf, you see.

Too much bonga-bonga
when he was young.

I want you out of here today, bitch!

- I'd like Miss... It is Miss, yeah?
- Gudrun Olfsberg.

I'd like her to stay until
the investigation is finished.

(Boy ) Investigation?

It was an accident, man.

What the hell do you want, Bergerac?

I want you to come and see a body.

- You're putting me on.
- The coastguards picked it up this morning.

- We want a positive identification.
- For God's sake, why me?

Well, he was your friend,
he fell off your boat,

least you can do, isn't it?

Look, man, I can't stand all that stuff.

Well, if it bothers you,
I'll hold your hand.

(Laughs )

Shut your stupid face!

You all right?

God! He looked awful.

Yeah, well, they...
swell up in the water. Come on.

Don't ever ask me again, Bergerac.
I mean, if they find Em, right?

Emerald Galliers?
Well, she's in hospital.

- Em is?
- Yeah.

Did no one tell you?
She was found almost at once.

- You mean Em's alive.
- Yeah.

Oh, wow, that's really wild, man!
I mean, I'll go and see her.

She's in intensive care.
You'll have to wait for a while.

Oh, sure, yeah.

Er...

Look, man, I'm gonna split, OK?
I can't take these places.

Thanks for coming.

(Jim ) Nice little toy that, isn't it?

(Barney ) He only got it last week.
It was a yacht-warming party.

What, a hundred yards offshore?

His kind don't buy them to sail,
they buy them to be looked at.

(Jim ) What do we know
about this guy, Buckley?

Everything that everybody else knows.

- He made X millions from that pop group.
- He got busted a lot, didn't he?

Just the standard things,
drunk driving, assault...

- All yours, sir..
- Thank you. Drugs, underage girls.

What he pays in paternity orders
would run our department.

- Mere youthful peccadilloes.
- Yes, that's right.

If he's got that kind of record,
why did they let him in here?

How do you keep well-heeled
British citizens out?

People like Charlie Hungerford?

At least Charlie has the virtue of being discreet.

And he didn't bring the Yorkshire mafia with
him, Buckley has a whole gang of hangers-on.

Was Rupert Galliers one of them?

I don't know but he belonged to that group.
The Six Gin Valley lot.

- And that before breakfast, eh?
- (Laughing) Yes.

It's a low rail, Jim,
not difficult to get over there.

Yeah, in a force nine perhaps.
There was flat calm last night.

Remember it was dark
and they must've been all boozed up.

It wasn't dark, it was a clear night,
full moon. Yet nobody saw anything.

And most of them say
they didn't hear anything either.

They were all below.

Galliers and his wife
were alone up here.

- According to the statements.
- Yes, exactly.

And they all cross-check.
There's no mystery.

- Somebody may be lying.
- Why?

Perhaps because it wasn't an accident.
Got to check it.

You'd check on your own mother.

She looks lovely, doesn't she?
Just like she's sleeping.

You say that's got nowt to do
with the bang on the head?

No, that's just
a minor contusion, Mr Osman.

Well, how long is she
going to be like this?

- It's impossible to say.
- She's in a coma, Dad.

- She's going to get better, though?
- I hope so.

We're just keeping
our fingers crossed.

Ah, this is Sergeant Bergerac

of the Bureau Des Etrangers.
Mr and Mrs Osman.

Oh, Mrs Galliers' parents.
You got here quick.

(Jim ) You got somewhere to stay?

Well, no, not yet.
We came direct from the airport.

We can stay here, can't we?
So we can be with her.

We could try to make arrangements,
it's a bit late now.

Really there's nothing
you can do at the moment.

Why don't you let me take you over
to your daughter's house?

I don't know.
What do you think, Dad?

- Do you think we should?
- Well, it might be best, love.

- (Jim ) All right?
- Right.

If you get your things,
I'll meet you downstairs in two minutes.

You know, Dad, I think
she's looking better already. Don't you?

She'll be right
as ninepence tomorrow.

Aye, of course she will.

(Mrs Osman ) Thank you.

Obviously you want something.

Yeah, I'd like to look at
that bruise on her forehead.

(Doctor) Small cut, small swelling.

- Consistent with a blow?
- I'm not an expert.

- You must have seen a lot of those.
- What sort of blow?

- From a fist, with a heavy ring.
- (Doctor) Perhaps.

She could also have
hit her head on a stanchion as she fell.

- Would she have been stunned?
- Probably, it's on the temporal lobe.

- How long would she have been unconscious?
- Impossible to say.

One minute, two minutes?

If I had to guess,
I'd say the shock of hitting the water

would have revived her
within a few seconds.

These are questions one can't answer
with any certainty.

I'm running into a lot of those meself.
Thank you.

Oh, it is a lovely place, isn't it?

Ee, our Jenny is so proud of it.

She's always writing about the things
she's doing, you know Jenny.

- Improvements she's making.
- Jenny was her name?

She called herself Emerald when she turned
professional. Sort of stage name, like.

- I didn't know she'd been an actress.
- Nay, she wasn't an actress.

Our Jenny were British junior
ice-dancing champion.

Well, I've got the keys to the house,
we might as well go in.

New carpet!
She never mentioned that.

- Know what I could do with, lass?
- Nice cup of tea.

Oh, we'll get our things
round to our room first.

- No, let me.
- No, no, no, they're only light.

Didn't pack much.

Ah, there you are.
Well, got me orders. Put t'kettle on.

You've been here before, Mr Osman?

Aye, last Christmas
just for a few days.

Our Jen wanted us to stay longer,
but... I don't know, I thought...

What?

(Mr Osman ) Well, all this,
the friends she made...

not our sort.

We're ordinary people, Betty and me.

What Marx calls
the oppressed proletariat.

Not so ordinary.
Not with a daughter as a champion.

Aye.

It's something she always wanted
from the time she were a little lass.

Course, took a lot of time and money.
We went everywhere with her.

When you'd rather have been watching United?

Oh, it were worth it... I suppose.

- What do you do for a living?
- Barkeeper.

Been at it 20 year.
You fancy a cup of tea?

No, thanks, a bit pushed for time.
Your son-in-law, what did he do?

Owned a stud farm, so he said.
Sold it when he retired.

How the hell anyone could
retire at his age beats me.

Did you like him?

That's a funny question, Sergeant,
the lad just died.

Oh, yeah, of course. Sorry.

I... He...

He weren't the sort of lad that I thought our
Jenny should have wed, if that's what you mean.

That's what I meant.

Ah, there's your keys.

I'll be in touch.

I saw the door open.

I was gonna call the cops
but then I saw your motor.

Mrs Galliers' parents are here.

- How is Em?
- Holding up.

I called the hospital.

- They said she was critical.
- Did they?

- Anything I can do?
- Yes, you can get out of my car.

A car like this, man,
makes you an exhibitionist.

And what does your
white Lagonda make you?

I'm in show business.
I want a police guard, Bergerac.

- A guard? Why?
- My bell's not stopped today.

I'm ex-directory but them hounds
found the number.

They'll be all over
the island tomorrow.

- What are you talking about?
- The press, man!

They'll be sniffing through my trash bins,
looking in keyholes.

I want a guard.

I'm sure you're very used
to handling the press, Mr Buckley.

But if you feel you want
an officer assigned to you,

I suggest you talk to the chief of police.

Don't like me, do you?

I like everybody,
until they're proved guilty.

What?

I said I like everybody,
until they're proved guilty.

I saw you clocking me
down the morgue today.

- Got a real buzz out of that, didn't you?
- Good night.

- No, wait!
- What for?

I want to explain about myself,
about when I was a kid.

Well?.

Ma scarpered when I was nipper,
and I never had no father,

so I lived with me grandad.

He was a porter down Billingsgate
and he stank of fish.

The whole house ponged of it.

Then one day, he didn't go to work,
he stayed in bed

and he died.

I don't remember if he had a doctor,
he just died.

Right, I got that bit.

A neighbour came from down the street
to lay the old man out.

That's how she made her beer money.

After she'd done it,
she took me in to see him.

He had his blue suit on,
a bandage round his chin, pennies in his eyes.

I could only tell it was him
because he still smelt of fish.

You'd be good on Jackanory.

After a while, the smell went away,
just sort of bit by bit.

After a year, you couldn't smell it.

Nothing left.

It was like the old man had never lived.

- Know what I mean?
- Is that it?

Down there today brought it all back.
That's why I cracked up.

(Jim ) I see.

Well, I said it before
and I'll say it again - good night.

- Morning, Charlie.
- Hey! Oh!

There goes one
for the regimental lead fund.

- The what?
- An old army expression.

When were on the rifle range
we used to dig the bullets out

from behind the target, out of the sand.

You can make a useful few ackers
by the end of the week.

(Jim ) Was there ever a time in your life
when you didn't have a fiddle?

I think it all started when I was
milking the school milk fund.

A drop of water and you can soon
make three bottles stretch to five.

It's all going down in the great book,
you'll never get past St Peter.

Anyway, why are you harassing
a private citizen

peaceably practising toxophily
in his own garden?

Rupert Galliers.

- What do you know about him?
- I hear he drowned himself.

- That's the story being put about, is it?
- Well, didn't he?

Well, they usually leave a note.

Not if they want it
to look like an accident.

Then the wife can pick up the insurance.

Did he have any reason you know of
to top himself?

- Several, I should think.
- Give us a few.

Well, he was into the bank
for thousands, so I hear.

You see, he said he owned a stud farm,

but from some papers I saw made me think
he'd been something in the City.

He was with a firm
of stockbrokers, Axell Brown.

- Thought you'd know.
- And if Galliers ever owned a stud farm

you can bet it was
their money he bought it with.

- Like that, eh?
- Mm.

Cost Axell Brown three million,
they went out of business.

- Didn't he get hammered?
- No, they covered the loss

and scandals are bad for the market.

But there's one or two would have
hammered his kneecaps

- given half a chance.
- Thanks, Charlie.

If ever Nigel Dempster retires,
I'll tell them about you.

(Phone ringing)

- Good morning, James.
- No, it isn't.

(Charlotte ) Sorry.

Oh!

Very efficient!

- What's that?
- Path report on Galliers.

I've got some notes about him too
but I haven't typed them up yet.

- Yeah? What you got?
- Emerald Galliers, née Osman,

- skating champion. I think you know all that.
- Yeah.

Married 18 months ago,
she was 21, he was 38.

Divorced his first wife
three years before that, no children.

He was a top racing man and went to all
the meetings on both sides of the Channel.

Used to own a stud in Hampshire.

Man of independent means.
Aristocratic connections apparently.

(Laughs )

(Charlotte ) What are you chortling at?

Aristocratic connections!
It's horsefeathers, 90% of that.

- Ooh, well, thanks.
- Type it out anyway.

You're so nice to work for.

Oh, by the way, Lil called.
She said if you're thinking of dropping in,

the Royal Barge has reporters
like a pomegranate has pips.

- That's out, then, is it?
- Mm.

Oh, Charlotte - don't forget Stephen Crane.

No, sir.

- Have you seen this?
- Yes.

Tss...

(Knocks )

What's all this?
About it being a tragic accident?

The official line, Jim,
from the Chief and upwards,

is that they want this
put on the back burner.

- Why?
- Well you've read the papers.

- They're digging for scandal.
- Well, that's not our problem, is it?

This is a sunshine island
flowing with milk and early tomatoes.

We don't want the News of the Word to make it
sound like Sodom and Gomorrah.

Suppose Galliers was murdered.

We have statements from six people.
They all agree about what happened.

I mean, they're not Murder Incorporated.

Read this.

Found it in Galliers' desk.

"My dear Rupert,
Herewith by my heavenly messenger,

- "a small foretaste of paradise."
- Read on.

"My contact in Lyons tells me
there is some good stuff available"

"but the price, alas, is quite extortionate."

"Let me know your wishes.
Affectionately, SC."

Jim, that could refer to anything.

It's cocaine, Barney.

The autopsy report said that Galliers was
blind drunk and doped up to the eyeballs.

Yes, well, the pathologist said
he couldn't have swam ten yards.

It was a drugs party.

So, they're a bunch of hopheads.
That doesn't make them murderers.

It just makes them more likely
to fall yachts.

You're going to have to do
better than that, Jim.

( ♪ Funk music blaring)

(Music stops )

(Electronic bleeping)

Can you put my ovulation charts
on that thing, Peter?

- Well, theoretically.
- What do you mean, theoretically?

Oscar's my personal computer, Sally.

I'm getting into a very heavy
one-to-one relationship here.

I think he'd find
your ovulation chart intrusive.

Damn it, Peter, it's only a machine.

- Er, sorry to interrupt.
- Please.

Yes, Sergeant Bergerac, Mr Campion.

I'd like to check over
the statements you made yesterday.

Well, really nothing to add.
We've talked about it of course.

Neither of us can understand
how it happened.

Well, it's just routine you know,
something might turn up.

- Erm, can I sit down?
- (Peter) Of course.

Thank you.

Would you like a coffee, Sergeant,
or a drink or something?

No, thank you, Mrs Campion.
Er, Sally Campion, yeah?

Yes. Sarah really.

Now, all your stories
tally on the point

that you were on deck till about 1:00am

and then you all went down into
the saloon for refreshments, right?

Yeah.

So, all eight of you were down
in the saloon, that's the Galliers,

yourselves, the O'Dells,
Mr Buckley and Mr Crane?

No, Stephen and Boy
had zonked out by then.

(Jim ) Oh, yes.

Mr Crane was resting in the main cabin,
after the saloon,

and Mr Buckley was in
the for'ard guest cabin.

And, sometime later, according to the statement,
he thought he heard a cry,

and when he checked the yacht out,
Mr and Mrs Galliers were missing.

Yeah, he came in looking panicky
and said he couldn't find them.

So he and I took the dinghy out
and rowed around for about 20 minutes

yelling and calling
and then we decided to get help.

Did either of you notice when
Mr and Mrs Galliers left the saloon?

We turned the lights down, actually,

and somebody put the music on again.

And around 2:00am, Mrs Campion,

you say you heard a woman cry?

I said I thought I heard something, yes.
I wasn't actually sure.

I didn't take it seriously of course.

I mean, I just thought, "Ooh, lucky thing."

I see. Is this your writing, Mrs Campion?

- No.
- (Jim ) You see, it's signed SC.

Stephen Crane?

Yeah, perhaps.

Well, that's about it,
sorry to have disturbed you.

- Anytime.
- Thank you.

- Bye.
- Goodbye.

- Did you have to say that?
- Obvious conclusion, wasn't it?

If I hadn't drawn it
he'd have wondered why.

- Should we call Stephen?
- Best not.

I don't think we should have any contact
with Stephen till this blows over.

- Mr Buckley.
- Hi.

I'm Betty Osman, Jenny's mother.
We met at Christmas.

Oh, yeah I remember, yeah.
How is she?

She has a lot more colour today
and I saw her eyelids flicker just now.

That's a good sign, eh?

(Mrs Osman ) I think she's trying
to open her eyes.

Great.

Where will I put these?

Oh, they're beautiful.

- I'll ask one of the nurses for a vase.
- Better get two.

Yes, I will. Excuse me.

(Boy ) That was quick.

Yeah, they're lovely.
They must have cost a fortune.

Do you know something?

- You remind me of my mum.
- Do I?

She loved flowers too.

The whole house was full of flowers
when I was little, every room.

- How lovely.
- Oh, yeah.

I grew up surrounded by flowers.

The sweet peas, chrysanths,
roses, carnations.

Mum just loved the scent of them.

But after she died,
nobody bothered, you know.

And, sort of bit by bit,
the smell of them flowers just faded away.

After about a year

you couldn't smell them at all.

I think it was then I realised
that mum had gone forever.

- She's waiting in heaven, you know.
- Yeah. You a catholic?

- Yes.
- Me too.

Are you? Jenny never said it.
She's always writing about you, you know.

It's such a thrill for her
to be living near you.

Smashing kid.

Yeah, it was funny
the way I got converted.

We was all in this big hotel
in Honolulu one night

and it caught fire
two floors up from us.

There was smoke everywhere,
people screaming,

it was like going into the mouth of hell.

And then I saw this little old priest
on his knees in the passage.

I picked him up,

he was like a feather,
he must have been about 80.

And he said,

"Leave me, my son, help the others."

Course, I didn't, I carried him out.

Now I've met you,
you're not at all like what the papers say.

Oh, they tell such lies, Mrs Osman.
They persecute me.

(Boy ) Here, why don't we
say a prayer together?

Yes, I'd like to do that.

Afternoon, Mr Osman.

Oh, hello, Sergeant.

- On your own?
- No, Bett's up with Jenny.

We was down here at seven this morning.

I should've been cutting the grass
in Corporation Park today.

Our Betty thought
just the sound of our voices might...

You've got good soil here, Sergeant.
Things must grow easily.

I couldn't stand
sitting up there for hours on end

just watching that machine pumping away.

I mean, that's all that's keeping
our Jenny alive, isn't it?

The moment they switch that thing off...

It's all right for the missus,

she's a natural born optimist.

Have you ever read
Self-Help by Samuel Smiles?

- No.
- Another bloody optimist.

I won it as a Sunday school prize.

He thought if everybody worked hard,
life would get better. Don't figure.

Our hard work only makes life better
for the capitalists of the world.

You're getting a bit deep
for me there, Mr Osman.

I intended to ask you last night,
is your daughter a good swimmer?

Oh, aye. Well, at least she were as a lass.

It were toss-up between
swimming and skating in those days.

- How about your son-in-law?
- Don't know.

- I couldn't say about him.
- Well, never mind.

Well, thank you, Mr Osman. I hope...

you get some good news soon.

- Sergeant?
- Yeah?

Wasn't an accident, was it?

( ♪ Marching music playing)

- Hey, Jim.
- Hello, Lil.

Barge still full of pressmen, is it?

Yes, but most of them going back
to London today, unfortunately.

- What do you mean unfortunately?
- They've doubled our bar takings.

- What do you want to see me about, Jim?
- Gossip.

I know you've got
the biggest ears on the island.

I'm immune to flattery.

Rupert Galliers.
What do you know about him?

I haven't seen him for over a year.

He used to come in regularly at one time,
before he got married.

What was he like?

Checked suit, little trilby, racing paper,
he used to call me governess.

"Morning, governess,
got anything on today?"

- A wag, was he?
- Tattersalls variety.

- Quite a different type from his friend.
- Who was that?

Runs the art gallery in Beaumont. Very refined.

- Oh, Stephen Crane?
- Do you know him?

No, but he's one of the people
I've got to see.

Crane used to meet Galliers
for a drink several times a week.

Still comes in, but he brings a rather
pretty young coloured boy with him.

- Calls him Norbert.
- (Laughing) Norbert!

It's true!

What about Boy Buckley?

Oh, he's been in a few times.
He was in today in fact.

- He was in today?
- Buying drinks for reporters.

Yesterday, he wanted
a guard to keep them off.

Well, I got the impression today
he's rather enjoying being back in the limelight.

- Have you ever seen him with Crane?
- No, he usually has a girl in tow.

- I think it's part of the image.
- All macho in suede pants, is it?

- You don't like him.
- Don't like any of them, frankly.

That yacht should have sunk
with all hands.

He was a wonderful drummer
all the same.

Well, thanks for your help, Lil.

Jim, have you noticed
that man in the blue car?

- He's been hanging around all day.
- There ought to be law against it.

- Couldn't you think of one?
- I'll go through the book.

- Hey, do you want a lift?
- Oh, thanks.

Norbert, dear,
don't always be so physical.

Don't you see what it says?
With care, fragile.

Don't attack the thing with a hammer.

Go and get a screwdriver
and prise the lid off gently.

OK.

Are we just browsing,
or can I be of any assistance?

- You Mr Crane?
- Yes?

- Sergeant Bergerac.
- Oh, about that nasty accident, I suppose.

No, I didn't exactly take you
for an art lover, you look much too...

I understand that you and Mr Galliers
have been quite close friends.

Isn't that a little
ambiguous these days?

Well, you have been seen together
quite a lot.

Yes, well, that was before
Rupert married.

We were new here together, you see,
so we sort of chummed up.

How long have you known Boy Buckley?

Mmm, about three years.
I've sold him several pieces.

More objets than d'art, I'm afraid,
at outrageous prices.

- Did you know everyone at that party?
- Of course.

They are among my most valued clients,
rich and ignorant.

You see, they all live within
100 yards of each other

- whereas you...
- Live over the shop. Quite.

- Is that Norbert?
- Yes.

Is there somewhere we can talk
without all that?

- Yes, in here.
- Thank you.

You see, that seems
to make you the odd man out.

Yes, I suppose Boy invited me

because of my magnetism and charm.

- As a matter of fact, I very nearly didn't go.
- Why not?

Well, I assumed I was taking Norbert,

and so I phoned Boy to find out what to wear
and he says I wasn't to bring Norbert.

"Why not?" I say.
"Because he's coloured, " he says.

(Laughs ) My God. I very nearly
told him to stuff his rotten party.

- But you didn't.
- No. I decided to pay him back

by scoffing as much of
his beastly champagne as I could.

I mean, quel racist!
Besides Norbert isn't coloured.

Simply a richer,
rather lovelier shade of ivory.

Especially those part of him
on which the sun rarely shines.

In your statement,
you say that about midnight

you went into the main aft cabin
for a rest, right?

Yes, I'm afraid
I got monumentally wazzocked.

About an hour after that you say you thought
you heard a woman cry from the deck?

Er, yes.

- Did you do anything about that?
- No.

And you heard nothing
after that single cry?

No.

This, er... this your writing?

It would appear to be.

Would you mind telling me
what that refers to?

Er, well, Norbert's
my heavenly messenger.

I believe I'd sent Rupert
some snaps to look at.

He was interested
in some antique tapestries.

- (Jim ) Tapestries?
- Yes, in Lyons.

In Lyons?

Why would he be interested
in buying tapestries

when the bank was threatening
to foreclose on his house?

Were they now?

I always thought Rupert
was immensely rich.

Not by the time
of his death, he wasn't.

Well, he always was an intrepid gambler.

He paid his turf account
and his household bills by cheque.

But over the last three years
he's made some large withdrawals in cash.

- Quite the little weasel, aren't we?
- He needed it to buy cocaine.

Really? Well, now you come to mention it,

his pupils always did look
abnormally small.

Was Emerald Galliers on it?

I never looked
very deeply into her eyes.

- Boy Buckley?
- One has heard rumours.

The O'Dells and the Campions?

It was a drugs party
on that yacht, wasn't it?

I do find this minatory
attitude of yours very upsetting.

If you keep on, I shall either faint
or send for my lawyer.

You're probably
going to need him, Mr Crane.

Out.

Now, just what might
your little game be, sir?

Sam Silvers.
You work for that paper, do you?

SS.

My parents must have been the only Jews
with no sense of humour.

I write the showbiz page.

Well, I'm not in show business.
Why follow me?

I like a man who gets around,
I can charge more expenses.

Just routine inquiries, Mr Silvers.

Sergeant, I'm the world's greatest
expert on the back of your head.

If you had bigger ears, you'd look exactly like
a bloodhound on a strong scent.

You'll learn nothing following me.

How well do you know Boy Buckley?

Since he had chocolate round his mouth.

- You've been to see him?
- Not yet.

Time's on the side
of the Sunday newspaper.

Right, Mr Silvers, I'll tell you what I'll do.

I'll meet you tonight in
The Royal Barge. Know the place?

And you can tell me
all you know about Boy Buckley.

And in the meantime,
stay off my back,

otherwise I will run you in.

Tommy, this is Sergeant Bergerac
from the Bureau Des Etrangers.

Ah. Afternoon, Sergeant.
Can I offer you a drink?

Oh, no, course not.

You people don't
when you're on duty, do you?

Well, do sit down.
What can we do for you?

- You want one of these, darling?
- (Linda ) Yes, please.

Well, I'd like to ask you a few questions
about what happened the other night.

Shoot.

Did Mr Galliers seem in any way
different from normal?.

- No.
- He was being pretty foul to Emerald.

That's was normal.
He was always foul to Emerald.

What do you mean?
They didn't get on?

Understatement of the year.

Rupert was obsessively jealous of her.

Though he of course
could do what he liked.

The old double standard thing.

But that apart did he seem worried
or depressed about anything?

I wouldn't have said so.

Mind you, I didn't see much of him
after he went off with Gudrun.

Gudrun Olfsberg?
I didn't know she was there.

Well, she wasn't after about ten o'clock.

She threw a tremendous wobbly
and demanded to be put ashore.

(Linda ) She was drunk, that's all.

- So what happened?
- Oh, she and Boy had a big spat.

And finally Rupert offered to
row her ashore in the dinghy.

I see.

So Mr Galliers took her ashore
and then rowed back to the yacht, yeah?

- Eventually.
- What time did he get back?

Well, I didn't see him again
till almost midnight.

I think I remember
making some remark about it.

A very crude remark.

Well, we all know
what Gudrun's like, darling.

If she were a carpet
she'd be labelled "heavy duty".

Yeah, that's it, good one. And again.

Again. Yes.

OK, fellas. On the bridge.

- So you're friends again, are you?
- Strictly for the press.

Why did you leave the party early
the other night?

You really want to know?

Well, that is why I asked the question, yeah.

Because that pig ignored me.
He was with Emerald... you know.

So Mr Galliers took you ashore, did he?

- What then? Did he drive you home?
- No, I got a taxi.

- He was gone for more than an hour.
- He is a slow rower.

I have to ask you this.
Did anything happen between you?

Sure, we made love!
It wasn't the first time.

Where was this?

In the dinghy.
Difficult but not impossible.

There was a full moon. Didn't it worry you
that somebody might see you from the yacht?

Maybe that's what I wanted.

Did, er, Mr Buckley see you?

Sure. That's why he don't like me no more.

I don't care.

It would have helped if I had
known this sooner, Miss Olfsberg.

Why? This is my private business.
Nothing to do with what happened.

Well, maybe Mrs Galliers
saw you with her husband.

Maybe they had a quarrel.

And maybe that's when
they went over the side.

That's a lot of maybes.

Well, maybe I'll find some more.

- Cracked it?
- Very funny.

- You've wasted two days on nothing.
- I have not.

I am certain now that Galliers' death
was not an accident.

But his wife's the key witness
but she's on that bloody machine.

And there's no certainty when she
comes off it she'll remember anything.

- Stephen Crane.
- (Jim ) Yeah?

- The Met finally came through with the goods.
- Drugs?

He used to run an art business
in Camden Town.

In 1963, he got two years probation
for possessing cannabis.

In '75, a three-year sentence
for possessing heroin.

He was also charged with dealing
but that was dropped.

(Phone ringing)

Anything else?

Yes. He changed his name when
he left prison when he moved out here.

A new life, I suppose.
He's down on the records as Stephen Axell.

Axell?. Thank you, Charlotte.

Hey, we might
not need Emerald Galliers.

Just as well.

That was the hospital.

Another word, Mr Crane.

- Aren't we on overtime now?
- May I come in?

Yes, but you must promise
to be very quiet.

Norbert's having a lie-down,
he's got a dreadful headache, poor boy.

It's from all that hammering, I suppose.

Why did you change your name
from Axell to Crane?

My, we have been
a busy little bee, haven't we?

- Well, that was... that was just a whim.
- A whim, was it?

Yes, I was working in a library
and I came across this novel,

The Red Badge of Courage
by Stephen Crane.

I thought, "What a lovely name,
that would suit me, " I thought.

Prison library, that would be, would it?

Now we're not going to be
unpleasant again, are we?

You call yourself Crane

because you knew Galliers
would recognise the name Axell.

Oh, you do know
rather a lot, don't you?

Your father stood surety for you in 1963.

He was senior partner in Axell Brown.

And he went out of business
because of Galliers.

It killed Mummy.

They had to sell everything,
including the house which she loved.

- She never got over it.
- All right, so what did you do?

Keep Galliers hooked on drugs?

You bled him white
for the last three years, eh?

He bled my father white.

All right, now tell me
what happened on the yacht.

I've already told you. Good gracious!
You don't think I had anything...

- You had the motive and the opportunity.
- Rubbish!

I didn't want Galliers to die like that,
I hated him too much.

- Oh, you admit that, do you?
- God, how I hated him!

Every time I looked
at a picture of Mummy, I...

Sergeant, I wanted to see Galliers
go down into the pits of degradation

and I wanted him to die slowly in torment,
screaming like an animal.

That's how it ends, you know.

Yet you still deal in the stuff?

You peddle drugs to Buckley
and any of his mates that want it, don't you?

- Now that you're going to have to prove.
- Oh, I'm going to prove it.

And this time it won't be
a three-year sentence.

I'm going to put you away
for a very, very long time.

Have a good night, Mr Crane.

So you two finally
got to know each other.

Ah, Lil, this is Sam Silvers,
showbiz correspondent.

Oh, good. Do you want me to play the piano
and sing a ditty?

- I'm covering the Buckley story.
- Isn't he rather passé these days?

Old drummers never die. They simply...

Roll away. Excuse me.

Now I'll tell you what you can do for me...

♪ And I can't heLp myself

♪ I'm a fooL in Love with you... ♪

Here he is, Flying Officer Biggles.

- Sam!
- Hello, Boy!

Man, it's good to see you!

- Hey, tell me what you think of this lot.
- I've seen 'em.

Yeah, but the Strappers
were ten times better, Sam.

Who's arguing?

Now what the hell are you doing here,
you old son?

- You want a scoop, right?
- Always.

We're reforming the group, Sam,
how about that?

I've had a long rap with Charlie Walker
and we're back in business.

Only this time we're going to have
our own studio and our own record company.

No rip-offs.

And I got another idea.
I'm gonna get a plane like old Elvis

so we can fly to all the gigs, you know -
Solihull, Dunstable, Tallahassee.

- What about Wayne Roberts?
- Old Wayne will be OK.

Old Wayne's dead, Boy.

He died in that hotel fire six years ago.

What... was that in Honolulu?

- Vegas.
- Yeah.

We had a fire in Honolulu.

That was just your room when you were
zipping matches at the waste bucket.

Vegas was...500 rooms.

Yeah, well, we'll find a lead guitar.
Charlie will know somebody.

Hey, let me fix you a drink, Sam old son.

- What do you want?
- No.

I've got one down the road,
that's what I came to tell you.

Tell me?

Emerald Galliers is OK.

Her parents want you
to have a drink with them.

What do you mean she's OK?

Well, she's off the machine.
She's going to be all right.

The Osmans are over the moon,
I can tell you.

Yeah?

Well, I prayed for her, you know.
I said a prayer.

Well, it must have worked, Boy.

Anyway, are you coming?

Yeah, yeah.

They're in the lounge.

Bergerac.

I've just been to the hospital.

Em told you it was an accident,
didn't she?

I mean, I never mean to hurt her.

- What did you mean to do?
- Look!

Galliers done it to me first,
he was with my woman.

But Em and me, we were just
faking it when he found us.

We were just winding him up,
it was just a gag.

We never expected him
to go crazy like that.

So there was a fight and he went over.

It was an accident, man!
I keep telling you.

And Emerald was another accident, was she?

You're very accident-prone, Mr Buckley.

She... she started screaming,
and I panicked and I just hit her.

Then you just threw her
over the side, did you?

Come on.

I want a brief.

You can only do me for manslaughter.

If Galliers was killed in a fight

you might just get away with manslaughter.

But Emerald Galliers was murdered.

That's right, Mr Buckley, she's dead.
They turned the machine off this evening.

You conning...!

Oh... ow!

- You having trouble, Jim?
- Not with this, no.

Listen, fellas, I can pay!

- I suppose I owe you an apology.
- Yes, yes, you do.

- (Boy ) You can't do this to me.
- I'm sorry.

- Thank you.
- (Boy ) I got lots of money...

- Hey, Sergeant?
- Yeah?

When, er... when did you start sussing Buckley?

Oh, almost from the off.

As soon as his girlfriend
said he was half-deaf.

A lot of drummers are, it's the amplifiers.

And yet he said
he was in the forward guest cabin.

That's about as far away
from the deck as you can get.

Yet he still says he heard a woman cry.

He had to, so he could waste time
with his phoney rescue act.

Can you hold this back?
We've got two days before we go to press.

- Come on.
- Well, can I have an eyewitness piece?

I Was There, by Sam Silvers.

All right, so long as it's not prejudicial
to the trial, you know the form.

Sure. You know, if Reagan doesn't do anything
stupid in the next couple of days,

I might get the front page lead with this.
Happy ending, eh?

Tell that to the Osmans, Mr Silvers.