Original subtitles

I'll take you the rest of the way when you've had your drink.

This is a very exotic room.

A very... secret room, too.

Secret?

Because nobody knows it's here.

Especially your wife.

That's right.

I keep it for er... special occasions.

Like this.

After all, when you got into the car...

...you knew you were going to get more than a lift into town.

True.

I was promised a drink.

And so far I have been disappointed.

Hm.

I never allow anyone to be disappointed.

Turn out the light, will you?

Are you ready?

You bet.

Close your eyes.

I'm going to surprise you.

Oh, yes?

Are you ready for this?

Carbon copy, isn't it?

Well, I didn't examine the other body, but the description's certainly the same.

Heart cut out with a bill hook or curved cutting tool.

Tone.

- Hm? - Any sign the geezer was bent?

- No frilly knickers in the cupboard. - Oh, come on.

Photos, letters, club memberships,

- stuff like that. - You think it's a homosexual killing?

You said there were signs of sexual activity.

Yes.

Well, do you think a woman could have clone that?

Well, it's physically possible for a young, fit woman

- or someone in an abnormal state of mind. - There's this one. Dallas Room.

Kind of singles bar, hetero place.

Find out if he was there last night, who he was with,

who his friends are, if he left with anyone. All right?

Tone... keep it quiet.

Yeah.

Well, last week I thought we were dealing with some kind of insane one-off...

...now we've got two of a kind.

...which brings me to my next guest, who must be one of the most beautiful -

no, definitely the most beautiful lady writer we've ever had on the show - Natalie Bell.

But her story, or at least the book she's having published,

could spoil your breakfast, so be warned.

Oh, yes, she was real enough.

I found out quite a lot about her. And her family.

I even traced one of its surviving members.

Extraordinary. How on earth did you manage to do that?

I know what you mean and I'm sure you're going to send a lot of our listeners out

looking round their local bookshops to see what they can find.

Gruesome story. The crazy countess who cut out her lovers' hearts

with a dagger. Ugh!

No such ripping yarns from my next guest.

But before that, to change the mood,

a record for Peter Rawley of Hounslow, Middlesex.

♪ Mellow jazz

Hello. Could you put me through to the production office, please,

on the breakfast show?

Detective Inspector Clifford.

Thank you. We're not releasing any details about the killings.

What I've told you is just between the two of us, but as you can see

they're exactly the same as you describe in your book about the countess.

Well, I wouldn't say exactly the same.

And the countess lived 300 years ago, remember?

Yeah. You said you traced one of her descendants.

- And you decided it runs in the family. - I haven't decided anything.

So, what do you want me to do?

- Introduce you to Mrs Henska? - That's right.

It'll be easier on her if there's someone there she knows.

I'll call her later this afternoon. She usually sleeps after lunch. Then we'll see.

Let me give you some advice. When you talk to Mrs Henska...

I won't be doing any talking.

I'll be listening.

No.

To tell you the truth, I have become obsessed with this ancestor of mine.

Why?

God knows.

I cannot imagine a more monstrous woman.

She seems to have been

a perfectly ordinary, run-of-the-mill countess

until her husband went away to the Hundred Years' War.

His head falconer gave to her a baby eagle.

And, I have to say, this is not all he gave her.

So, when the count returned,

the falconer, not being a courageous man, fled to escape his vengeance.

But for the countess, there was no such escape.

The count punished her infidelity with much cruelty.

He had her dragged on a cart

through the whole valley

and displayed in all the villages,

where the head man gave to her a ritual blow.

And then, at night, by the light of torches,

in front of the assembled people,

she was branded with iron as an adulteress.

But the count had not lost his desire for her.

In fact, the inflicting of this cruel humiliation

seems to have quickened it.

He locked her up in a tower.

But he could not keep away from her.

Every night he visited her.

She submitted to him silently, and waited.

And then, one night, she opened wide

the shutters on the window of the tower.

The moonlight flooded in on the sleeping count

and then, suddenly,

a shadow falls across him - a vast shadow.

And into the room

swoops the countess's eagle. He is fully grown now.

For a second he hovers over the sleeping man

and then there is a fierce rushing sound

as down swoops the vicious beak.

For a second, a split second,

the count wakes before he dies,

his heart ripped out by the eagle.

So...

the countess now rules the whole valley.

She goes out into all the villages and she selects young men to be her lovers, yes?

She takes them back to the tower

but before his night his over,

each one of them dies,

his heart ripped out.

It was not until her death that they discovered all the bodies.

There were 107 of them.

Would you like more tea?

Er... no... no, no, thank you.

Well...

it's an incredible story.

- Is it very well known? - No, as a matter of fact, it is not.

Naturally, it had some currency in our part of the country,

but gradually it dropped out of sight until the 1830s,

when people liked that sort of horror story.

And then it was published in a book of Carpathian folk tales and translated

into German and English and so on.

Which is how I came across it.

Urn... Mrs Henska...

...how many in your family now?

In the family?

Oh...

I am the family.

I am the countess's last descendant.

That is why I was so pleased when Natalie came to see me.

Our family may die out, but our grisly story will continue.

Mmm.

And there's no possibility that there's... a cousin... a grandson?

No.

No, I have no grandson.

I see. Well er...

it's been a tremendous experience listening to you, but I don't want to tire you.

That is very considerate of you.

Urn...

I would like to call again sometime, if I may.

Yes, yes.

Speak to Natalie. She will arrange it.

I'll telephone you.

Thank you.

What are you going to do now?

- I'm going to drive you home. - I meant...

Oh, Well...

Er... I'd like the name and address of your publisher, and the

typing agency you use, and anyone you know of who might have seen the manuscript.

Do you think it could have put the idea into someone’s head?

According to Mrs Henska, the last time the story was current

was the 1830s.

Your book hasn't been published yet so it's a possibility, however remote.

It's an alarming thought. Something I've written may have led to someone’s death.

Well, as I said, it's a remote possibility. But it's one I have to check.

Tadek.

They're gone.

I know.

Why do you cover it?

It's so beautiful.

Sometimes I prefer not to see it.

Tadek.

Are you going out?

Because I... have some work to do.

My name's Andy. What's yours?

I'm not interested in... names.

What a beautiful voice.

You know, you should be doing commercials for caviar.

Oh, yes?

Yes.

I can never resist the challenge of dark glasses.

Would you like me to take them off?

Oh, there's no answer to that.

There, I just bet myself a bottle of Mouton Cadet

I could make you laugh. Now, I've won

and you've got to share it with me.

You want references?

Well, don't look now...

...but check the glamorous lady behind the bar.

She's the owner's wife.

Ask her about Randy Andy.

And er... that's you?

Andy's the name, randy's the game.

Look, I have to be careful.

Oh, OK.

I'll tell you what we do.

I'll go and wait in the car,

you leave it for ten minutes and then come and join me.

It's parked in the mews.

A red Porsche.

- And what then? - Time of your life, sweetheart.

♪ Funky soul music

Ah...

I see a tantalizing glimpse of things to come.

Stay where you are.

I'm on my way.

Anything you say.

Close your eyes,

Randy Andy.

Keep them closed now.

Keep your eyes closed... till I say.

Now?

- You actually saw the lady leave? - Yes.

And she left with a gentleman?

- Ever seen her in here before? - No, never.

This is Detective Inspector Clifford. Mrs Van Lily was behind the bar.

- Over here. - That's fine.

And the killing could have been clone by three different women.

The descriptions were never the same.

I don't think it's possible.

All right, they looked different but that only means a change of clothes, a wig.

Then it could have been a man.

Yeah. Yes, it could.

But it's why that interests me.

What drives anyone to this particular kind of killing?

Wouldn't you say there was some kind of ritual element?

The fact that they all seemed to be identical.

Yeah. But where does the ritual come from?

Somewhere deep down in the unconscious mind?

What I know about the conscious mind you could write on a cigarette paper.

Then you'd better come and see my psychiatrist with me.

It's not for treatment. He's an old friend. He calls in on me now and then.

And you er... help him with his problems?

- He helps me with my research. - Ah, yeah.

- Maybe he can help with yours. - Mm.

Just as the personal unconscious contains buried images and memories

of the early stages of our lives,

so the collective part of the unconscious mind is a great store of material

from the early stages in the life of mankind.

And this is common to all of us.

That's why you or I can dream the same dream as the Australian Aborigine.

We all have buried images of man as the amiable fruit gatherer,

as well as the predatory hunter.

The dark side.

The wolf within us.

Like an iceberg, the unconscious mind is the nine-tenths below the surface.

I don't like that analogy.

It suggests that the unconscious is some dark, destructive force,

lurking below the surface and waiting to sink the unsuspecting Titanic

of our aspirations.

But isn't that what we're dealing with?

- A submerged, destructive force. - Are you trying to say

that Mrs Henska's some kind of Lady Dracula

who survived by devouring the hearts of young men?

Could it be possible for some traumatic event that happened a long time ago

to re-emerge, generations later?

Mm. You mean buried in the unconscious as if in the family vault,

and then, suddenly, under the right conditions, reproduced.

I don't think so. I think you should examine parallel case histories,

thinking in terms of the multiple personality.

- Like the Boston strangler. - Yes.

Someone who, to all intents and purposes, leads a thoroughly unremarkable life

and yet who, at given times, becomes a totally different person

with characteristics wholly unlike his - or her - other self.

In this case, murderous characteristics.

And, of course, each of these personalities knows nothing of the other.

There's no will involved here, but...

But as you said, the wolf takes over.

If you insist on the romantic imagery... the wolf takes over.

Or in this case, the eagle.

Possibly. It would be useful to know more about the family background.

My research notes on the family are pretty extensive. Would you like to read them?

Yes. Yes, I would.

But I ought to be getting back. Could I possibly borrow them?

- They're with my typist just now. - Oh.

Well, thank you for talking to me, Doctor.

Thanks, Natalie.

- Help yourself to a drink. - Thanks. I will.

Cliff...

can you get some time off tomorrow?

Er... tomorrow evening, round about 6:30.

I'll be getting my notes back during the clay.

Oh, well, maybe we could meet for a drink and then have some dinner.

All right.

The pub with the garden, about seven o'clock?

See you at seven.

Is he still there?

He left about 25 minutes ago. Didn't stay long.

I've got the embassy checking for me.

When I find out what they've got, I'll be in touch.

Roger-dodge.

I've got what I need from the embassy. I'll be there in half an hour.

Roger-dodge, I'll still be here.

- Did you get a good look at him? - Better than that.

I had a bit of difficulty getting that one.

But he didn't see me. Do you know who he is?

I've got a fair idea.

- Is that tea? - No, it's coffee.

That'll do.

I somehow get the feeling Mrs Henska's not going to offer me a cup of tea today.

Not an eagle in sight.

Ah, ha, ha. I haven't found the right one yet.

Now...

you want to hear more stories of my family?

Yes, as a matter of fact.

I will tell you the story of how I escaped from the Russians with the help

of an English captain.

I found myself in a displaced persons' camp...

I'd like you to tell me about your nephew.

What nephew? I have no nephew. I told you.

I am the last of the countess's family.

Except for Tadek.

No...

- Which Tadek? Who is Tadek? - Tadek Kuchinsky.

No. No, I won't listen to you.

He was with the Radzinsky Theater Company in Warsaw.

They were having a successful tour of East Germany. He managed to

escape to the West. He turned up in this country last year.

You must go away!

Mrs Henska, there's no point in denying it. It's not going to help

- either one of you. - Don't you think he's suffered enough?

Persecuted by that atheistic regime of Marxist bullies.

He cannot help being what he is.

Yes, he escaped. But he is still surrounded by unthinking people

who do not understand what he is doing.

That is why I have not disclosed his presence.

There has been enough persecution.

Tadek is an artist.

As such, he must be free to express himself.

And how exactly does he do that?

♪ How I wish it was the same with you

♪ Things won't get much better, I suppose

♪ Shouldn't really feel this way, but that's how it goes

♪ Poor unlucky me

♪ But that's the way it's got to be

♪ So tell me, what can I do?

♪ Guess I've got a thing about you

- Mr Tadek Kuchinsky... - Idiots.

I'd like to ask you a few questions.

Now, listen!

All I want to do is have a chat.

You should have said you were police.

You might have lost your temper.

I'm sorry.

I thought you were... a spy.

- Or a journalist. - I'm glad I'm not.

I suppose you are from the immigration.

How did you find me?

Auntie.

My aunt would not give me away.

I promised her I wasn't trying to get you deported.

No?

No.

It's more serious than that. I'm investigating a murder.

Three murders, in fact.

And I simply want to know where you were when they happened.

So, I am suspect.

Now don't get excited, it's only routine.

- All right, I did it! - Come on, Tadek, don't be temperamental.

I'm not temperamental.

What I am is sick of being hunted and pursued and persecuted.

I understand. Things haven't been easy for you.

Auntie told me about your problems and I said I'd try and help. You know...

straighten things out with the immigration people.

You did?

Why not?

I'm not in the business of making life difficult.

People with talent need encouraging. You were very good out there.

Thank you.

I'm not much used to kindness from officials.

But you do have to help.

Of course.

I was working most nights these last few weeks.

I have a very full date book.

When I'm not working, I'm staying with my aunt.

She Will...

how do you say... prove this.

Yeah, well, urn... we're going to have to do better than that, aren't we?

Maybe the best thing

would be for you to come to my office tomorrow morning at the police station.

It would give you time to remember exactly

what you were doing over the last three weeks -

whether you were out of town, working or whatever. OK?

I'm going to need some kind of corroboration. Names of people who saw you,

contracts, that sort of thing. Think you can handle that?

Yes.

That's the way. And remember,

no-one is leaning on you, and I will make sure that they don't,

just as long as you show up tomorrow morning.

I'll be there.

Good boy.

- How did you get on? - Bit of aggravation.

What, with Queenie?

You're thinking in cliches, old son. Tadek's a hard lad. He's also very nervous.

But is he the eagle woman?

Or do you still believe Auntie does her transformation number?

- I don't know. Who's watching the house? - DC Wilson.

All right, I'll take over. And make sure Tadek doesn't know he's being followed.

- He's very excitable. He's liable to... - Let fly with his handbag.

Stop being funny, Sergeant. Now, stay out of sight

or you've got trouble.

Excuse me, madam.

I'm trying to find the Heathcliffe gallery.

You've passed it. If you make a U-turn here,

you'll see it on your left, about 100 metres back.

That's awfully kind, but I must be honest.

The gallery was a pretext. I simply had to speak to you.

Oh, really?

Yes, truly.

I know it's very sexist to intrude on a lady's privacy

just because she happens to be beautiful. What can I say

to commend myself to you?

I'm terribly rich and I live five minutes away.

What is this, a proposal?

Proposition is the word, I think.

Look, why don't you drop round for a cup of tea?

There's an earl living next door.

It's a tremendously respectable neighbourhood. Now, don't let me down.

The moment I clapped eyes on you I said, "I must have that girl, whatever it costs."

I'm busy.

You won't get a better offer this afternoon, my love.

You're probably right.

You don't live here, then?

Not exactly, no. I'm borrowing it from friends.

Jolly pretty, though, isn't it?

I've given the servants the evening off

and the chauffeur's having tea with his mother-in-law, so we shan't be disturbed.

Are you getting ready?

Come and get me.

I want you to lie down and close your eyes.

Are you going to be strict with me?

I'm going to surprise you.

Close your eyes.

Now, are you ready for this?

Yes.

Please, don't touch me. I'll give you anything you want!

Take the money. Take anything you want.

Everything in Tadek's statement checks except the time he was with Mrs Henska.

There's no way we could find out if he was there or not.

Only one of the killings happened when he said he was with Auntie.

And she never left the house.

- Don't you think your theory's looking shaky? - What theory?

I'll call in to let you know where I'll be.

- You're on till ten, aren't you? - Yeah.

It doesn't leave us with anything, though, does it?

Don't you think it's time we went public, released the details?

No. You couldn't play this down. It'd be big news.

Next time you pick up a beautiful girl don't take her to your place, bring her here.

Let's keep it to ourselves for as long as we can, eh?

I'd er... better call the police, sir.

I don't think I'd bother with that, Rowley. After all, she didn't actually take anything.

They'd only ask a lot of boring questions.

Besides, I don't want to run the risk of upsetting my wife if she got to hear about it.

Still, it's pretty serious, sir. I mean, she must be a loony.

Yes, well, we don't want the Thompsons to know I've been entertaining loonies

in their absence, do we?

Listen, er... I live over there.

Do you fancy coming over for some coffee?

Why not?

That's what it's all about, isn't it?

I mean, I fancy you...

you fancy me.

Why mess about?

Come on. I'll carry your bag.

Hang on. You see, I've got to be careful about my landlady.

She's got a bit of a thing about visitors.

Come on.

Tone, I'll be at home the rest of the evening if you need me, OK?

Hold on. Get to Leamington Avenue now. North side of the park. It's another one.

On my way.

- Cliff. - Hello.

I'm sorry about last night.

You'll come in, won't you?

I got completely involved in what I was doing yesterday.

- What was that? - Research for the new book.

It wasn't even research really, just...

thinking about the story and how I'm going to tackle it.

It's always like that, I'm afraid.

Once I get an idea for a story, it seems to take over my whole life.

Well, I was er...

I was a bit surprised when you didn't turn up, but then...

I thought maybe you'd said yes just to be polite.

I wouldn't do that. I'm very clear about yes and no.

That's good.

Now you're here... stay for dinner?

- Er... well, I've come straight from work. - Oh, Cliff,

you don't have to get changed, for goodness' sake.

There's the bathroom, help yourself.

Then you can start reading my notes on the countess's family.

That's an offer I can't refuse.

- Do you want some help? - No, you carry on.

- I'm going out to get something to drink. - I'll get it.

No. It won't take a minute. The shop's only in the high street.

Tell me what you want.

Go on. Risk it. If I get lost, I'll ask a policeman.

Some white wine.

- That's where I'll be. - Roger-dodge.

Is Morgan with you?

Yeah. I've clone everything you said.

Anything else?

No, that'll do.

Are you ready, darling?

Close your eyes.

Stand still, Natalie. Just stand still.

Go on, Morgan, search her.

I'm sorry... but this is the only way.

We know enough now about the killings to have figured out the way she works

and when you didn't turn up yesterday and that fellow was killed, well...

You had to be the number one suspect.

Clean.

- Would you like me to make some tea? - Yeah, that's...

No.

Well...

...thank God that's over.

- Look, Natalie... - Don't speak to me.

Don't look at me.

Get out of here! All of you.

I suppose you think you can justify this with some official jargon or a warrant.

What happened to me in there was filthy.

- It was like being raped. - Don't say that.

You don't want to hear it, do you? You were just doing your job.

I didn't want to do this but there was no way I could avoid it.

I admire your self-sacrifice, Inspector.

- Look... - Don't bother to say you're sorry,

because it really doesn't matter.

Hey, she really gave you a hard time.

Still, you've got your proof now.

Yesterday you hoped it wasn't her, today you know it isn't.

So it's goodbye for ever now, is it?

- Hello. - What now?

- Are you arresting me? - I wanted to explain.

There's no need. I understand perfectly.

I was the suspect, you were the smart cop playing me along.

That's not how it was. I knew Lt couldn't be you, but I'm not Just me.

I'm in charge of the investigation and I needed proof.

You managed to find the most brutal way to get your proof, didn't you?

I didn't want it to be like that. I...

I didn't want to run the risk of spoiling our relationship but, sometimes I have to take risks.

All right, you took the risk. And what you are pleased to call "our relationship"

is spoiled.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be spiteful. I was hitting back at you.

- Do you have the time to talk somewhere? - I'll be amazed if you have.

I'm making the time. This is important.

Yes.

Yes, it is.

My car's over there, why don't I drive you home? Look, look, I've got a better idea.

Why don't I invite you to my place and make you some lunch? I'm an ace cook.

Maybe I can impress you.

I have some more shopping to do.

Give me an hour. I'll be there.

You seem er... different.

No. I've simply decided not to be angry any more.

Good.

Life's too short.

And we shouldn't waste our time.

- What do you think? - I think...

we can eat later.

Do you mean er...

later?

Just er... one second.

What are you doing?

I've got to call in and if I don't do it now I think it may never happen.

Have you no sense of occasion?

No.

I want to surprise you.

You never stop surprising me.

I won't be long.

Natalie.

I'm almost ready.

Close your eyes.

They're closed.

I'm on my way.

Keep your eyes closed.

Hello.

It's good of you to come... after all that business at your flat.

Cliff had a job to do.

I wish I'd been more understanding.

I thought perhaps maybe he would have tried to phone you, put things right.

Perhaps he meant to. I don't know.

Now the story's out we get a hundred crazies a day phoning in

saying they're the eagle woman.

- How did Cliff find her, I wonder? - He didn't tell you?

No. Kept it to himself.

Went off on his own. First time he'd ever done that.

Well...

I'll go and see to the lads.

It was some journalist scum.

He got hold of a photograph of her. Sold it to the television.

Thanks.

She saw her face on the screen

when the story came out.

She got an obsession.

An obsession

that's she's some kind of reincarnation of the countess.

So now she's terrified of sleep...

because she thinks she walks in her sleep and kills.

That's why I have to stay with her.

You're looking after her now?

What else can I do?

Oh...

I've had some spectacular offers.

A tour of the States with my own show.

Jackie the Ripper.

Some producer tried to force me to accept. I break his head!

Auntie, Auntie, Auntie.

You've got a visitor.

It's all right, it's all right. You haven't moved from your chair.

You have been here the whole time?

Of course I have. Don't worry.

Say hello to Natalie.

How are you, Mrs Henska?

Oh...

What have we done, you and I?

Nothing. Nothing.

You're upset because of the news. Of course you are.

But you have clone no-one any harm. You didn't choose

- your ancestor. - But she chose me.

She lives in me.

What am I to do?

It's just your imagination.

You've been on your own too long, with too many gloomy thoughts.

But now you have Tadek to take care of you

you'll be feeling much better, believe me.

Natalie, stay with us.

Even for a few days.

It would be so good to have your company. We could become real friends.

I'd like to, Tadek, but I've begun researching my new book

and it's going to take me a long way away.

- I think she'd make an interesting subject. - Well... she wasn't a sister,

- just one of the nurses. - Did you ever see her?

No, she was before my time.

That would have been 1920-something.

Mind you, my old guvnor saw her.

He saw her, all right.

She used to, like...

flaunt her body, kind of thing, when she was up close to them rich old boys.

A wonder some of them didn't have a heart attack there and then.

Course, they'd ask her to come to their room,

but she always said no. "Wait until you leave," she said,

and then you can take me to a flat.

Well...

these rich old boys was the kind who'd set up a nice-looking girl

in a little love nest somewhere, so that was no trouble.

She'd got them eating out of her hand, so to speak.

Buying her fur coats and cars and diamonds and all that.

Then when they starts to look around for a bit of something new...

She'd strangle them with a silk scarf.

Mm.

Are you going to do a television about her?

A book, actually. I think she'd make an interesting subject, don't you?

Well, it's not much of a job for a lady

but... there you are.

Nor was throttling all them old boys.

She wasn't a sister, just one of the nurses.