Original subtitles

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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