All language subtitles for S02E08.Iris

You've all heard the old saying,
"Dead men tell no tales."

Well, the action of this play
takes place in a funeral parlour,

with one of the corpses
playing a violin.

Who would put up the money
for a play like this?

A man called Rick Lansing.

A fellow who'd sell
his grandmother's scalp for a toupee,

yet would lose thousands on this
without a murmur.

Why? To keep his wife happy.

Well...to keep her.

This play will open and close
in one devastatingly dull evening...

or my name isn't Simon Templar.

- Are you ready?
- This is the craziest thing I ever read!

I don't want you to understand it,
just back it.

- Don't bite my head off.
- I'm sorry.

- Why are you so touchy these days?
- I've got a lot on my mind.

I'm worried about casting. Stratford
Keene isn't an easy director to work with.

- Then fire him!
- Oh, no. He's also very capable.

Iris, listen. If this play is more trouble
than it's worth, forget it.

- I'm only putting up the money for you.
- Yes, I know. And I am very grateful.

- Truly I am.
- Iris...

- It's what you want?
- Yes.

- I'm crazy about you.
- Yes, but let's go now, shall we?

- You're going in that?
- What's wrong with it?

�5,000 worth of mink in this flat and you
go to the theatre in a piece of cloth!

My dear man, there won't be a single
woman in the cast in a mink coat today.

How many women in that cast got mink?

The point is that for the backer's wife
to appear overdressed would be vulgar.

There's always a new animal
hanging in your cupboard.

- If they're vulgar, why buy them?
- I can't talk now.

Iris, listen. I don't care what face
you show the world,

but be honest with me.
The truth is, this is a crazy play.

It's only going on with you in it

because I'm willing to kiss
�8,000 goodbye!

Thanks!

- It sure isn't your talent!
- Well, you wouldn't know!

Come off it!

What do you know about the theatre?
Or anything artistic, for that matter?

- I know this stinks.
- You're being tasteless and boorish.

You get condescending
and I'll knock your head off!

- Don't shout!
- I'll shout as much as I'll want to!

At least I know who I am!

- And so do I!
- Are you ashamed of it?

- No, of course not.
- Well, that's fine.

Otherwise I might tell
your artsy friends the truth.

All I started with was a dishonourable
discharge from the Canadian Army

and I fought and gouged
my way up to this!

Money! That's all you ever think about!

Sure! So do you! Only I admit it!

(She lets out a muffled moan)

- I hate it when you do that!
- That's why I do it.

C'mon. I'll drive you
to that turkey feast you call a play.

Would the theatrical world
fall to bits if you were late?

I wanna talk to Harry Blundel.

It's your car.

Would you like this car, Iris?

- Rick, do you mean it?
- You can have it in a month.

- A month?
- I've ordered a custom-built job.

Genuine leopard upholstery.

(Woman) Murder?
(Man) Oh, lots of murder there.

(Man) I don't know what that is.
(Woman) I'll take this one.

- You'll like that. Two and six.
- OK, then.

- Thank you. Jean. How's the baby?
- Blooming!

- Good. Ta-ta, love.
- Bye.

Well, Harry, everybody's young but us.

Get out of here.

- Harry, be sensible.
- For the last time, no!

You're the only holdout in the area.

I can't help it if everyone else is yellow.

But you're giving
my other customers ideas.

They think if Blundel's can do without
the Protective Association, they can too.

I can't let that idea get around.
You understand.

Nothing against you personally,
it's the principle.

I won't knuckle under to extortion.

If the others like to pay off,
let 'em. But not me.

Well, Harry, if that's the way you feel.

- It is.
- Just don't say I didn't warn you.

I've just been
having an argument with Dad.

- She has, indeed. Hello, Simon.
- Mr Hardy. What's wrong?

I've been trying to explain that Rick
Lansing is the backer, not the producer.

- What's the difference?
- I was Lansing's business partner.

He is thoroughly unscrupulous. I don't
want my daughter connected with him.

- I don't think she will be for long.
- What do you mean?

- This. It's complete nonsense.
- That's what I said.

And just how much do either of you
really know?

Mary, you don't have to be an expert
to know something is idiotic.

Simon, you promised
to come to rehearsal.

See it on its feet. You've nothing else
to do this afternoon, have you?

- Well, no.
- My boy, you're licked.

Mary can talk a man into anything.
I should know.

All I'm asking for
is the benefit of the doubt.

OK. I'm a gambler.

Mr Hardy.

Mark, don't rush it.

Don't forget the abstract element in it.

And you could do with a haircut.

What I suggest is, the last time...

- Ah, Iris, darling.
- Stratford, darling.

- How are you?
- Fine.

Our director, Stratford Keene.
My husband, Rick.

Nice of you to have come along.

Just wanted to see
how you were spending my money.

- What was the name again?
- Keene. Stratford Keene.

May I introduce our leading man,
Mark Belden. My husband, Rick.

- How do you do, Mr Lansing.
- How do you do.

- Is that the set?
- It is a little bare.

- But this isn't a play about furniture.
- What is it about?

To quote the author,
it is "an evening of total pain".

- You're kidding!
- Rick, please...

At 35 shillings a ticket,
you're offering total pain?

Why not hire a couple of extras to move
among the audience with whips?!

- Rick, stop it!
- Mr Lansing,

we don't run the theatre
the way you run your building business.

- Is that why it loses money?
- Theatre is an investment in minds.

- How much am I investing in your mind?
- Rick...

Take your investment back
any time you like.

Pay somebody who'll snap to attention.

- Independent, are you?
- Yes.

I wish you luck, you may need it.

John, we'll start again. I want to have
a word with you first. Excuse us.

(Woman) Darling, spare me
a minute, will you?

Are you trying to embarrass me?

I don't care. He's a phoney.

- Look, Rick...
- I've gotta get to the office.

(Keene) Let's hear that last speech again.

- Mary Hardy!
- Mr Lansing!

- You're in this?!
- I have hopes.

You want to work with these lunatics?

No, don't explain. How is your father?

He's fine. Enjoying retirement.

This is Mr Simon Templar.
Mr Rick Lansing.

- Mr Lansing.
- Templar. I know you.

I know you too.
How's the protection racket?

The name for it is business.

I knew a burglar,
called himself a removal man.

This play needs a clown.
Should I ask 'em to hire you?

I am gainfully employed.

- Doing what?
- Holding Mary Hardy's hand.

Not a bad job, at that. Well, goodbye all.

(Actor) But I always felt she...

Hello, Mrs Lansing. May I present
Mr Simon Templar. Mrs Lansing.

Hello, have you come
to watch us rehearse?

I can't wait.

Well, we'd be delighted
to have your opinion.

Receipts from the Rover Club
are up to 7,000 this week.

Not bad.

Slot machine revenue down 280.

I've got the sole concession
for these machines in England.

Let's get these characters on the ball.

I'll take care of it. Anything else?

I wanna talk to you, without my
secretary.

Daisy, go out and get some coffee.

(Chuckles)
If Daisy could only learn to type!

- You can't have everything.
- No.

Including Blundel's Newsstand.
I dropped in on him.

- And?
- He won't join.

- What do you suggest?
- He's gotta fall in line.

We'd better do a little persuading.

Get Bryce. The three of us
will pay Blundel a visit tonight.

No need for you to get involved.

I make it a rule to do my own dirty work.
Besides...l rather like it.

(Actor) With no such pain,
only the endless meditative comma...

- Coma.
- Oh, I'm sorry. It's a misprint.

The endless meditative coma.

(Keene) I don't think either of you
understands this scene.

The scene? No one understands the
play!

(Whispers) Shh, please!

I must be out of my mind.

You can put up with it
for the rest of the afternoon.

Besides, Iris has asked us for supper.

This just isn't my day.

What do you think of her?

Pleasant enough.
What's with her and Belden?

Why on earth did you marry
a man like that?

Well, it's simple enough.
My family were poor.

Constant back-breaking effort
to make ends meet.

I didn't even have a decent evening
dress until I married Rick.

Now, I've got dozens.

Was it just the money?

No. Not at first.

I hadn't been married six months
before I realised it was a terrible mistake.

Why don't you leave him?

That's simple too. I'm afraid of him.

Frightened of what he might do.

Where does that leave us?

Nowhere. We'll just have to snatch
what happiness we can.

(Keene) Iris, darling, Miss Hardy,
come up on the stage.

You're wanted on the telephone,
Mr Calder.

Thank you.

(Discussion inaudible)

Hello? Look, I thought I told you
not to call me here.

Yes, I know I owe you the money.
I'll pay you as soon as I can.

I don't know when but soon.
Just give me time, will you?

(Keene) Project, please!

Mrs Lansing, could you
do me a tremendous favour?

- What is it, Mr Calder?
- It's embarrassing but...

Could I have an advance of salary?
Today, if possible, it's very urgent.

Oh... I'm awfully sorry but...

My husband issues the cheques,
I don't think he'd cooperate.

(Keene)
Calder! Come over here, please!

Well... Thanks just the same, anyway.

Evening, Harry.

- What do you want?
- You'll see.

- 'Ere, just a minute!
- I told you, Harry.

You try your strong-arm stuff with me,
you'll go to jail.

I told you I couldn't afford
a holdout, Harry. OK, boys.

- What are you doing?
- Just gonna warm the place up a little.

Go ahead! Burn it! I'm insured!

Fine. You'll collect and as soon
as you get the place rebuilt...

- We'll burn it down again.
- Until you join the Association!

If you'd cooperate with me,
things'd be easier. All right, boys.

You won't be able to put this one out.

(Harry) Crooks! Thieves!
(Lansing) Come on, boys!

(Harry) That's all you are!
You'll go to jail for this!

Better not hang around,
you'll get your backside broiled.

(f Mozart: Symphony No. 41 in C major)

Sublime orchestral experience!

Mozart is the symphonist at his zenith!

- What is this, a wake or something?
- Hello, Mr Lansing.

It happens to be
Mozart's Jupiter Symphony.

Beats me! Iris has every twist disc
ever cut and she plays junk like this.

I'll turn it off.

Well...l think we should all...run along.

- Don't break up the party.
- (r Twist music starts)

Actors always lap up turkey and
free champagne. You hungry, sonny?

No, thank you. l...wonder
if I might have a word with you.

Sure. Sure, go ahead.

Since you're the backer...

- Don't ask!
- Ask what?

Never mind. Get some more champagne.
Mark, come and help me.

- What's up?
- Oh, nothing.

No, finish it.

Well, I, er...l thought
you could lend me some money.

Oh? How much?

A lot, I'm afraid. 200 pounds.

What for?

I hate to admit it but l...l lost at gambling.

- Oh? Where?
- The Rover Club.

I left them a cheque and it bounced.

Sonny, let me give you a piece of advice.

No man gambles
if he can't afford to lose. It's an old rule.

Cheer up!
I won't let the Rover Club put you in jail.

Come on, have some bubbly.
Come on, everybody!

I put down 110 bottles of this stuff
at �2 a bottle.

Must you tell them the price?

Iris doesn't like it when I mention prices.
I don't know why.

Price is the only thing
you can't distort. Oh, Templar...

- Help yourselves everyone!
- Mary, have one of these.

What do you think of this nutty play?

- I think I prefer to reserve my judgment.
- I'll bet!

- Confidentially...
- It's crazy.

Yeah. That's what I think.
And it makes me so...mad.

- Why?
- It's phoney. I hate people who pretend.

If Iris hadn't seen the label on that disc,

she wouldn't know the
Jupiter Symphony from Gin Fizz Drag.

- If she'd admit that, I'd quit needling her.
- Was it necessary to be so rude?

When I want a lesson in manners,
I'll ask for it.

Whenever I think you need
a lesson in manners, you'll get it.

Whether you've asked for it or not.
Excuse me.

- Rick...
- What?

When you drove me to the theatre,
you stopped at Blundel's Newsstand.

What about it?

- It burned down last night.
- Really?

Well, that's a shame.

Yes, I can see you're dreadfully upset.

- Is it in the news?
- Yes.

Let me see it.

Come on! Come on!

"Overcome by smoke and fumes,"
it says.

Yes... He's dead.

- I've got to talk to you.
- I thought so. Beat it, Daisy.

Sure, Rick.

- Harry Blundel... He's dead.
- I know.

- Look, we're in trouble.
- No, we're not.

He was overcome by smoke and fumes.
The paper says so.

An old man of 63 dies
in a fire of unknown origin.

- It was an accident.
- I hope you're right.

I'm always right.

Think of the effect on the less
cooperative members of the Association.

We'll never have a holdout again.

Yeah... I suppose.

We're completely in the clear. Forget it!

- (Phone)
- Hello?

- (Simon) 'Mr Lansing, please.'
- Who's this?

'A friend who's interested
in Harry Blundel's accidental death.'

Just a minute.

Could you repeat that?

'Harry Blundel's death wasn't
an accident and I can prove it.

'You started that fire.'

- Who is this?
- 'A friend.'

- How much do you want?
- 'I'm not greedy. �10,000.

'You'll get your instructions
in the post tomorrow.

'If you know what's good for you,
you'll do as you're told.'

(Line goes dead)

- What is it?
- I'm not quite sure.

'Could you repeat that?'

'Harry Blundel's death
wasn't an accident and I can prove it.

'You started that fire.'

- 'Who is this?'
- 'A friend.'

- 'How much do you want?'
- 'I'm not greedy. �10,000.

- 'You'll get your instructions...'
- It's incredible!

- Isn't that Templar's voice?
- It certainly sounds like it.

I can't understand how he could tie me
up with a fire I had nothing to do with.

Does he think I'm going to knuckle under
to a thing like this?

- I don't know...
- He's your friend.

That's not fair! It's nothing to do with me.

Ah, I'm sorry, honey, it isn't.

I'm sorry I yelled at you. Forgive me?

- What are you going to do?
- I'm gonna fix him. Permanently!

Simon Templar, the gentleman!
He's nothing but a lousy blackmailer!

This looks like the one.
It's addressed to you.

- Is it Templar?
- He hasn't the guts to sign it.

"Follow these directions. Place �10,000
in �5 notes in the enclosed envelope.

"Mail it before noon today, otherwise..."
Tss!

It's addressed to Clive Vence, clo
Kensington Post Office Poste Restante.

- What are you going to do?
- Shut up, I'm thinking.

"Otherwise Harry Blundel's death
will take a lot of explaining."

Rick, did you have anything
to do with this?

Of course I didn't!

- Then I just don't understand.
- Never mind. I can take care of myself.

Mr Simon Templar's gonna be taught
a lesson he'll never forget.

Hello, Thatcher? I got it. Now, listen.

Get the cash and come up here.

OK, Rick, will do.

Erm, by the time I get to the bank,
about three quarters of an hour.

Yep. Sure, Rick. Goodbye.

- Take the calls.
- Oh, sure.

All right, gimme the rest of it.

Five.

Ten thousand.

Here. Take this to the Kensington
Post Office and mail it. Then you wait.

- Till someone calls for it?
- Till Templar calls for it.

- The minute you see him, grab him.
- Then what?

- Bring him back here.
- You'll get him.

Why use the real stuff in the envelope?

I'm not taking any chances.
If you slip up or Templar takes off...

If he discovered paper in there,
he'd start to squeal.

We won't slip up.

Rick!

- You killed Blundel, didn't you?
- No!

- But you started that fire.
- All right! So what?

- Blundel had to be brought into line.
- Brought into line?

- Is that what it is?
- We had nothing to do with his death.

Not really. We set fire to his shop
but didn't touch him!

I thought he walked out,
practically behind us!

- Anything happening?
- Not yet.

- You go eat. I'll take over.
- Right.

Wait a minute. I know him.

Stratford Keene.
He's directing that play Rick's financing.

That mean anything?

See what he collects.

If it's our envelope, follow him.
I'll be outside.

(Phone)

- Hello?
- (Woman) 'Mr Templar?

'This is Kensington Post Office.

'We've had an envelope
for you here for several days.

'It's marked "To await collection."'

- For me?
- 'Well, it's addressed to you, sir.

- 'You are Mr Simon Templar?'
- Yes, I am.

I'll be down to pick it up. Thank you.

- That's funny.
- What is?

Who'd write to me,
care of Kensington Post Office?

There's only one way to find out.
Go to the Post Office, get it and open it.

That's brilliant. Cheers.

- Templar. You have an envelope for me?
- One moment, Mr Templar.

- Just sign for it, please.
- Thank you.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

Templar. Keep it calm. I'll take that.

We don't want a nasty shooting. C'mon.

- Where?
- We'll show you.

- Ah. Where are the rest of the guests?
- Siddown! Watch him.

- What happens next? Tea?
- Open it.

It beats me how you thought
I'd give in to blackmail.

You're kidding, of course.

- Paper?
- Rick, it's impossible!

- He wasn't out of our sight!
- My �10,000! How'd you work this?

Tell me what I've been "working"
and I'll tell you.

- Rick, you want me to...?
- In a minute. Talk.

- I don't know what this is about.
- Are you denying you phoned me?

L phoned you?

'Harry Blundel's death
wasn't an accident and I can prove it.

- 'You started that fire.'
- 'Who is this?'

- 'A friend.'
- 'How much d'you want?

'I'm not greedy. �10,000. You'll get...'

- Well?
- It's not me.

- Come on!
- It's not my voice.

- You expect me to believe that?
- Believe what you like. That's not me!

It's a good imitation, in fact near perfect,
but I did not make that call!

And if I wanted �10,000 from you,
I wouldn't walk through a sewer to get it!

I'd simply steal it. Now, excuse me...

- All right, leave him!
- Thank you.

Where are you going?

A man who can imitate my voice that well
is obviously an actor.

And where is the most logical place
to look for actors? A theatre.

Darling, new cue. Mark, cut out

"What's happened..." right down to
"..ask you too."

And then we get back to...

- How's it going, Mr Calder?
- Not too bad.

- Raise that �200 yet?
- No, I'm afraid not.

The Rover Club
doesn't fool around over debts.

No. I just found out why.
Rick Lansing owns it.

Well, that's life.

- Hello.
- Hello. Did you get your letter?

Yes, l...sure did.

- I don't get it.
- Me either.

How did he work it?

- Wait a minute.
- What?

- This is addressed to Simon Templar!
- Let me see.

- The one I left was addressed to...
- Wence. A Clive Wence.

- I've got it!
- Yeah, there were two envelopes.

- Right.
- I dunno what you're on about.

Templar gets two identical envelopes.

He addresses one to Clive Wence and
mails it to me with the note. With me?

- So far.
- The other one he mails to himself.

- That's what he collected.
- He figured we'd watch him.

And we fell for it 100 per cent!

He picks up the dud, we bring him back,
he denies everything and we buy it!

Then he goes back and picks up
the one addressed to Wence.

- With my money!
- Not bad!

Not bad? It's brilliant!

So...what do we do now?

- He'll have collected it by now.
- Let's go to his flat.

Do that. Do whatever you like.

But get back my �10,000!

Sure, Rick.

- ...groaning about a mess they've made...
- Mark, you're superb.

You won't drop your Hs even
in rehearsal. This is cockney!

Well, let's hear you do it, maestro(!)

Number of blokes wot comes 'ere,
groaning about the mess they've made.

Does he do bird calls too?

You don't think it could be Stratford?

Who knows? But I'd like to talk to him.

Let's have a cup of tea, shall we?
Break for tea.

- Hello, Templar.
- Mr Keene?

- What do you really think of this play?
- It's ghastly.

- Then why are you involved?
- Money, I need it.

- Don't we all?
- I bought an option on Randall's play

but until then, I'm stuck with this.

- I hope things work out for you.
- If you don't mind...

- Nothing in the bedroom and kitchen.
- Nothing here, either.

Let's go.

Well...

Brokers' men. I wasn't told this place
was due for demolition.

We know you've got the money.
We figured out exactly how you did it.

You're a genius.

Now, gentlemen...how d'you feel
about a little housework?

Clean it up! All of it!

Er, Rick?

Congratulations. A real sloppy operation.

- You fumbled it!
- Indeed!

- Couldn't help it.
- He hasn't got it.

- At least, it's not in his rooms.
- That's it.

I don't have the money, period!

Now, for the last time, Rick,
I am not the blackmailer.

Any more problems and I'll be forced
to give you that lesson in manners.

You left here and collected that other
envelope, the one for Clive Wence!

You're wrong! I don't know anything
about Blundel except what I heard.

Then why did you go to the Post Office?

Because I had a call too.

They said they had a letter for me.

Your two watchdogs brought me here,
with the coast clear for the blackmailer

to pick up the other envelope.

- Yeah, it makes sense.
- Of course it does.

Oh, feel free to sit down, gentlemen.
You're on home ground.

Now, Rick, why don't you and I
let our hair down, hm?

About what?

I'm as anxious to find your money
as you are.

Someone's using me as a dummy.

So, where do we start?

- What about Harry Blundel?
- I only know what I read in the papers.

Somebody disagrees with you.
�10,000 worth.

It was an accident.
Overcome by smoke and fumes.

But who started the fire?

I've no idea.

- When I find out, I'll let you know.
- Yeah. You do that.

Rick, if it turns out to be you...
there will be trouble.

- By the way, I have this for you.
- What's this?

- A bill for �200.
- For what?

Damages to my apartment!

When you move house,
you leave the rubbish behind.

The anger and the remorse

and the yells of recrimination from
friends who stood by you in good time

and forgot you afterwards.

You can throw them away.
As when you leave this world.

Then you exit very slowly...

And, curtain! Thank you, darling,
that was...quite nice.

That's all for today, sweethearts.
Thank you.

- May I have Miss Hardy for a fitting?
- Mary?

- Will it take long?
- No, only 10 or 15 minutes.

- Are you leaving right away?
- Mm-hm.

If Mr Templar's outside,
tell him I'll be a few minutes.

Of course.

(Rings)

- Hello?
- (Simon) 'Jack Hardy?'

- Speaking. Who's this?
- 'That doesn't matter.

'What's more important
is that phoney prospectus

'you drew up for the Lansing-Bender
Company three years ago.'

Who are you? What do you want?

'If you want to keep your dirty secrets,
it's going to cost you �10,000.

'You'll get your instructions
in the post tomorrow.'

(Line goes dead)

Sorry to keep you waiting.

- Where would you like dinner?
- Any news of our blackmailer?

Not yet. What about you?

- A man asked Calder for money.
- Did he pay up?

I don't know. I was on stage at the time.

You're convinced now
the blackmailer is one of the cast?

Aren't you?

It has to be an actor. And somebody who
knows a great deal about Rick Lansing.

- Without facts, blackmailing won't work!
- I never talked about that prospectus!

- Then how did Templar find out?
- It isn't Templar. It's an impersonator!

- Templar phoned me!
- He didn't!

- Then who was it?
- I don't know! Word of honour!

Honour? Since when?
You're incapable of telling the truth.

- You're beginning to make me mad!
- You've not just done blackmail before!

- That's enough!
- You and Templar are in this together.

- I'm going to the police!
- Fine, go and shoot your mouth off!

See if they'll buy
your holier-than-thou pap!

- But you did issue that prospectus!
- From your cooked-up figures!

- You could've checked!
- I trusted you!

Well, you made a mistake!

So go tell the police the whole story!

Before you climb on the bandwagon for
justice, check your own skirts are clean!

- Good evening, Mr Hardy.
- Get out of here!

- Dad!
- Templar, get out!

- Mr Hardy, I don't understand.
- For heaven's sake, what is this?

For your information, the eminent
Mr Templar is a blackmailer.

- Ridiculous.
- I think I can explain...

I'm not interested.
You phoned me and threatened me.

Well, the answer is no.

Now, get out of here.

This is the second time my voice
has been used for blackmail.

First Rick Lansing, now you.

Simon had nothing to do with this.

I... I don't believe it.

I give you my word. I didn't phone you.

- He's been with me.
- At five to six?

No, I was in the car
outside the theatre, waiting.

Well, it's not exactly an alibi, is it?

- No, it isn't. And the blackmailer knew it.
- How do you mean?

When I was waiting outside, Belden,
Calder and Stratford Keene all came out.

I'd have no way of proving
I didn't use the telephone.

What did the voice say?

It threatened me with exposure over
a prospectus I prepared three years ago.

I'm to receive instructions
tomorrow about how to pay.

- Hmm. How much?
- �10,000.

- I presume you want to fight this?
- Well, yes.

- You haven't clone anything wrong?
- Not legally, but I made a mistake.

- What?
- Rick presented me with false figures.

It never occurred to me
to doubt his word.

I drew up the prospectus,
a lot of people invested.

When I found out the figures were faked,
it was too late.

So I resigned from the company,
never spoke to Rick again.

I'm going to get this blackmailer.

- But I'll need your cooperation.
- You have it.

- May I use the phone?
- Help yourself.

- Who are you calling?
- Scotland Yard.

I'll set things up for the morning.

"Put �10,000 in fivers

"in the enclosed envelope
by noon today.

"Put the envelope in the bin
opposite the entrance

"to the funfair in Battersea Park.
See map."

- Why is it made out of newspaper?
- Papers in bins don't attract attention.

- This will be simple.
- Will it, Inspector?

- Can you get the money?
- Yes, it's about all I have.

I'll take it to the bank.
We'll get the serial numbers.

Inspector, may I make a suggestion?

No.

Well...ask a silly question! See you later.

(I Barrel organ playing)

That's the one.

There's Mr Hardy, right on time.

- That's it.
- Is the road sweeper one of your men?

- It's not that obvious!
- And the fellow on the bench?

There are five others.
They won't get away with this.

They did with Lansing.

- Siddown, I wanna talk to you.
- What about?

Just talk. I never see you any more.

- I can't stay long.
- Where you off to?

- The theatre.
- On Saturday?

- I've got some fittings.
- When will you be through?

- I'm not sure. Why?
- I thought we might have lunch.

Oh, darling, I'm terribly sorry

but I'm having lunch with Stratford.
We've got some problems to iron out.

- Where?
- The Ellington.

- Mind if I join you?
- Oh, Rick! You'd be bored to tears!

After the way you spoke to him,
the atmosphere wouldn't be too cosy!

I suppose you're right. But the man who
pays the bills can ask a few questions.

Yes, of course. Well, goodbye.

Goodbye.

(f Barrel organ)

(Screams)

- Two hours...
- Patience is a virtue.

- The dustman...!
- Didn't you check when they come?

He'll wreck everything!

Blake's putting it back.

- You've been had.
- Why?

Those envelopes were switched. Check
with Sleepy and meet me at the theatre.

- (Door slams)
- Mark!

- It worked.
- You've got it?

We're rich!

Let's get out of here.

Just a moment. Give me a chance
to collect myself. I've been so afraid.

You were wonderful in the park!

�20,000, Iris! I've got the plane tickets.
We'll be in Paris for dinner.

Well, yes, I-l know but...

- Mark, I'm sure Rick knows about us.
- Forget him. You're rid of him for good.

(Simon's voice) You'll get your
instructions tomorrow. Do as you're told!

- (Iris) It's uncanny!
- It is, indeed.

You're sensational as a mimic, Belden.

You're showing promise as
a blackmailer, which irritates me.

- Especially when I'm used as dummy.
- Templar! We can work something out.

- Make me a proposition.
- How much do you want?

- All of it.
- You're mad!

Am I?

Are you really qualified to judge,
Mrs Lansing?

Well! Mimic, blackmailer
and now strong-arm man.

Don't push your luck, Belden.

I'm curious about one thing.

If you'd got away with this, what
were you planning on doing about Rick?

I despise him.

He's common, tasteless and vulgar.

That's too bad.

It had to be you, Iris. You were the one
with access to my papers.

You knew about Hardy and when
you said you were seeing Keene,

I checked the restaurant.
You weren't expected.

Rick, give me that gun.

Keep out of this!
Just tell me one thing, Iris.

I gave you anything you wanted.
Furs, jewellery, even this deadbeat play.

I loved you, Iris. Why did you do it?

Why?

Have you any idea of what it's been like?

- Being married to you?
- Mrs Lansing, cut it out...

- No, go on, say it.
- I loathe you!

I cringe when you touch me!

You're a thug and a murderer!
You and your protection racket!

An old man of 63 refuses to pay you off
and you burn down his store!

I oughta kill you, Iris. You deserve it.

Well, go on! Go on!

Why don't you? Go on! It's the only thing
you understand, violence!

- Well, go on. Go on, shoot me!
- All right, Iris, you asked!

(Gunshot)

(Rick shouts) I'll get you! I'll get you!
You're not shot of me! Iris!

Mr Hardy, there's your �10,000, intact,
along with your reputation.

- Simon, how can we thank you enough?
- We really are very, very grateful.

- Along with thousands of others, I hope.
- What do you mean?

I've saved them from one of the
grimmest evenings in years. That play!