Original subtitles

Thank you.

Oh, it's you, Paul.

You really are the most persistent man I know.

But you saw me yesterday.

Oh, no, I'm not having dinner with you alone in your flat.

Are you listening?

Yes, I'm listening.

And I'm not a charming woman left all alone.

Not tonight.

I'm going out with my husband.

Old-fashioned.

I don't think so.

Oh, now, look, Paul, I really must go.

Look, we'll have tea together sometime.

Goodbye. Hello?

Oh, hello, darling.

What?

Oh, but you must. I'm all ready.

Oh,

yes. I know you're a... Very busy man, but I should have thought you could

spend one evening with your wife.

Oh, what's the good of talking about some other time?

It's gone on like this now for months and months.

I'm sick of being left to know night after night.

I don't know what I shall do, and I really don't care.

Good night.

Margaret, this is wonderful.

Come in, my dear.

Paul, I came here because I was... Come and sit down.

Drink? Thank you.

I know. A whiskey and soda.

This is nice.

Thank you, Margaret.

I never liked it better than I do now.

You know, I always knew that I'd see you here one day.

I never thought it would be quite so soon.

Yet I am.

Yes.

That's all that matters.

Yes, I suppose that's all that matters.

To you. Cheers.

You're looking very beautiful tonight, Margaret.

Where did you get this?

I bought it a few days ago to remind me of a compliment you paid me.

Compliment? Yes, look, I marked the page.

Remember my saying that I thought that hat would suit you?

Well, a few days later, you wore it.

You have very good taste.

It's most gratifying to please a man who notices things.

I told you not to come here.

Paul, please. All right, my dear, leave this to me.

You'd better go.

Oh, no.

You know why I'm here.

Will you please go?

You're so silly.

Put that away.

You know what I said? Put that away.

Well, isn't Brookie on that story yet?

Well, doesn't anybody know where he is? Does anybody ever do any work around

here except me? Don't stand there like last year's old man. Go and find

Brookie. Sorry.

Last crash story?

Yeah. Anybody killed?

All right, we'll give it a stick.

Hey, Frank. Yeah.

Here.

Cure water.

Reset the lid with Doric. Box it with a 17 turnover. See him, Brookie? All

right. Hi, Betty. Yeah?

Wash out the order done most recently. There's news that it's gone through on

triplets. I know. Three kids are more of a story than one. See him, Brookie? No,

I haven't. He's mad that I'm there.

Have you got Brookie yet? I'll be spooning for him. Well, we'll have to

try the morgue. We've looked everywhere else.

Here, call me. Did I hear someone ask for Brookie?

Oh, don't, Bill. My nerves won't stand it. Okay, okay. He's on the phone in the

box. In the box? I wish it was a long wooden box. Well, don't stand there

looking at me. Go and get him.

You can't disturb him. He's talking to the chief of police.

Now, listen, Josie, darling. I couldn't help breaking that date.

I had to see a big theatrical magnate.

I was telling him about you.

Will you put me in a show?

Will he give me a part?

Sure. He asked if you played good parts. I said all your parts were good. How

about tonight? I'm free.

Brookie's so girl crazy, it's a wonder he doesn't get that way about you.

What makes you think I'd have him? I use me eyes, ducky. Then take care someone

doesn't poke a hat pin through the keyhole. Don't lose heart.

I want to eat. I'm starving.

I haven't had a bite all day.

What's the matter? Is someone choking you?

I'll call for you in about 20 minutes.

Goodbye, sweet.

LB's shouting for you. Very important call.

The chief of police, blonde or brunette? Bald as a coot. Do you want me,

sweetheart? Don't call me sweetheart.

All right, subbie, let's keep it our secret.

Well, that'll save you ringing the morgue. Copy, boy.

Here asking for me. Well, here I am, chief.

Where the hell have you been?

Now, don't tell me there's no time. Now, listen.

We've left a hole for you.

Get round to Leicester Mews. There's a chap called Grayson. Murdered his

girlfriend. Get hold of Inspector Dodds. He's in charge.

Can't send clear cover. It's my night off, LB.

Night off?

You've got a job of work to do.

Sure, and I've got a life to live. And a right to eat, drink and think outside

this blasted paper.

Boy, what's on in the canteen? The usual.

Sausage and mash.

The record sent Del.

Del? Oh no, it's his night off too.

And he has a right to eat and drink outside his paper.

But his stuff is always front page news.

Mews murder mystery.

Did you say Lester Mews? I did.

Okay. But listen, slave driver.

If Del's not on this job, I'll go straight home into bed for three days.

Alone?

Don't keep her waiting.

Who? The chief of police? Oh, so you don't believe me? He's not exactly your

type. Couldn't be my job if I have to take a girl out, could it? It's not very

flattering to put her down on the expense sheet as a taxi.

Why not? They're both charged by speed and distance.

LB's given you something for tonight.

Yeah. Now, isn't that disappointing for the chief of police?

Oi!

On your job, on your job!

Ah, so you're on the job again.

Yes, and on my night off.

Oh, hard luck, sir.

Any of the other press boys around?

Kesterfield. Inspector Dodds upstairs.

Yes, go straight after. Thanks.

Hello, Inspector.

I see we're on this job together.

Are we? Yes, now warrant for your arrest.

Let's see it. Over in the pub with just the right amount of froth on it. It

breaks me heart that I'm too busy.

Oh, pity. I don't want to hear from the record.

Over the way. Mind if I have a look at the body? Over my body first.

Oh, come on, Dodds. I thought you were a pal of mine. Now, Brookie.

Well, it's your loss. I'll let you know when I found him.

See you later. Thank you, sir.

Hello, boys.

Nice night for a murder.

Ah, our esteemed colleague from the sun.

What are you having, Brookie? Fine. You're beautiful.

You think so?

Well, it's quite a family party. Done around?

Do you ever know a murder when he wasn't? Sure, there's I beat him to.

Where is he? He's on the phone.

It's quick work. Has he got his story already?

I don't know how he does it, but he said the call was urgent.

Cheers. Cheerio, cock.

Now, now, now, sweetheart.

Be a sport.

Just because some other damn fellas let you down, you can take it out of me.

What do you newspaper men take me for?

I've been waiting here for over an hour. I'm fed up and I'm starving.

Blast the thing.

And if you want to take me out, you better step on it.

Where?

I've never heard of it. I'll meet you there in a half an hour.

You bet I'll be there in the tick.

All right, darling. Goodbye, Josie.

So that's your story, and you're sticking to it, eh? Ah, the answer to a

maiden's prayer.

I thought this was your night off. So it was, till you started the same habit. I

see. In other words, palsy-walsy, it'll be Ellington's bit on your tail.

Uh-huh. Well, well, never mind.

Come on, I'll take a quid off you.

If your salary will run to it. Sure, the sun plays its reporters.

You don't say.

Nurse's centre?

Yeah.

Not bad.

What was it, usual story?

Oh, simple. Keeps that for girlfriend. Mine.

Girlfriend calls one evening.

Raoul? Shoots her dead. Charming fellow.

Off? Good shooting.

Yes, twice in the stomach. As you say, charming fellow.

And no fool.

Didn't leave any clues behind.

He'll give himself away. They all would do.

Hey, they've got the charlady.

Oh, match drawn.

Good evening, madam. I'm from the record. I'd like a story from you. How

long have you been working here, madam? Where were you when the shooting

occurred? Did you find the body? Send Mrs. Daly up here.

Take it easy, boys.

Now, boys, give the lady some air.

What about some detail?

What about a story from you, inspector?

I'll get the sack if you don't talk, inspector.

Sorry, boys. Too much work to do.

Why did I buy six tickets for the police orphanage dance?

Might see you later.

This way, madam.

Just wait here a minute, please.

All right, George? Yes, sir. All right, pack up.

Any luck?

Afraid not, sir. Any photographs of Grayson? No, sir.

All right, cover her up.

Bring in the charwoman, will you?

Now, now, don't worry, Mrs. Daly. Everything's all right. Tell me, what

did this fellow Grayson look like?

He was dark, sir.

Dark moustache.

Tall. Ever such a nice man, sir.

Thought you'd dodge me, eh?

Shut up. I'm afraid this is all going to be very unpleasant for you, Mrs. Daly,

but I want you to take a careful look at that body.

Must I, sir?

Oh, yes. If you don't now, there's the inquest, remember?

Very well, sir.

George.

Now, please, Mrs. Daly, can you identify the body?

Poor girl.

I've seen her many a time, sir.

Well, go on.

Tell me all you know about her.

She used to come here often, sir, to see Mr.

Grayson. Crazy she was about him, sir.

They was very happy at first.

Then things altered.

Two days ago, they had a row.

Something terrible.

He threw her out, sir.

Crying bitter she was, sir, when she left.

Do you happen to know what that row was about?

I was just coming to that, sir.

He'd promised to marry her.

And for a very good reason.

I see. Thank you. That explains a lot.

Yes. And that explains it all.

One moment, Mrs. Daly.

Did you see this girl come back tonight?

No, sir. I didn't, sir. But I saw someone else.

Who was it?

A lady. All in evening dress.

Can you describe her to me, her face, the color of her hair?

This is most important.

No, sir.

She was too far away.

But she was a real lady.

Thank you. That's all.

We may have to question you tomorrow.

Here you are.

Thank you, sir.

Blast you, Del!

News editor, please.

LB, it's Brookie here.

I think I've got an exclusive on the Leicester Mews story.

Yeah, Grayson's charwoman says she's seen a society dame at the flat.

Hello, Josie, darling. Sorry I'm late. Not at all. I love waiting.

Especially in a dump like this. Dump? Don't be silly. This is the finest milk

in London, isn't it?

Oh, I'm sorry.

Really, dear, I don't know what to take me for. What's the matter, darling? Is

the plate slipped?

I'm not accustomed to being treated this way. None of my other boyfriends would

dream of keeping me waiting. Now, now, darling, you must make sacrifices for

your art.

You don't want to always be in the chorus, do you, Josie, darling? I have

ambitions, you know. Excuse me, governor, is that your car outside?

What? There's a copper out there taking your number. Oh, hell, just a minute,

darling.

Hello, Josie. Sorry I'm late. I must have caught the minute after you left.

You've about as much idea of time as... Del? Yes, Del.

Anyway, I'm going out with him. Now, listen, Josie.

Del's no good to a lovely, sensitive flower like you.

You shouldn't waste your time with a low-down crime reporter.

Crime reporter?

Sure. What else do you think he was? A crime reporter, and he told me he was

the dramatic critic.

Don't make me laugh.

Now, don't get excited, Josie. Come and sit down.

Dramatic critic? Why, he tells that to all the girls.

For your own sake, Josie, you shouldn't have anything to do with Del.

Put yourself in my hands. I won't let you down.

Now, where shall we go tonight?

Well, um... I might have spotted that policeman's gag.

Who's your assistant?

Nice company he keeps.

Now, Josie, what about coming for a ride?

He can't afford a car. He works for the sun.

You on the level this time? Oh, like that.

Hello. Oh, hello, Anne.

This is Miss Josie Vavasour. This is Anne of the Sun. How do you do? Hello.

Are you on the dramatic section, too?

No, I'm only Mr. Ellington's secretary.

Oh. But then I have a great deal to do with the dramatic section, don't I,

Brookie?

You see, Miss Vavasor, I take a great interest in Brookie's work.

And I think murder's very dramatic, don't you?

Murder? Oh, didn't you know?

Brookie's one of our ace crime reporters.

What is this, a new kind of game? You tell me you cover the shows, and you say

you're the dramatic critic. And you're both going to put my name in the papers.

But, sweetheart, we are newspaper men. Don't sweetheart me.

Newspaper men. Ha!

You put my name in the papers, all right, but I'll have to be a corpse

before you do it.

Three milkshakes, please.

One with a dash of arsenic.

Chocolate?

Hello,

Margaret. Not in bed yet?

No.

You'll be crying.

What's the matter?

What is it?

Tell me.

I'm so worried.

About us?

Oh, I'm terribly sorry. It was all my fault.

A conference had just been called when I phoned you, and then, when I was coming

away, a front-page murder story broke.

Murder?

Yes, why, what's wrong? You ought to be used to that sort of thing by now.

What was this one?

Oh, a girl shot.

Quite close here. Mr. Muse.

Did they get the man?

No.

You heard about it?

Well, I presume it was a man. It usually is.

Yes, Brookie got the story.

A fellow called Grayson shot his ex-girlfriend.

Horrible.

Margaret, what's the matter? I've never seen you like this before.

Oh, it's just nerves. It's being alone so much.

Laurie, you mustn't leave me alone so much.

I'll try not to, my dear.

I promise.

Do you mean it? Do you really mean it this time?

Yes.

I've been wrong.

I've been putting my paper first.

That's going to stop.

Sorry.

When you telephone tonight, I... Let's forget all about tonight.

Accept my promise.

Okay?

Okay.

You're not worrying anymore, are you?

No, Larry.

You look tired out. You must get some sleep.

Gosh, I could do with some too.

Aren't you going to bed?

Yes, in a minute.

Put out the lights, will you?

Good night, Margaret.

Good night, Larry.

Sleep well.

And don't dream about murders.

And now, Mrs. Dean, the night your niece was killed, did you know she'd gone to

Grayson's flat? She said she was going to the pictures.

Then she could have met him without your knowing.

I suppose so.

But I never dreamt she wasn't speaking the truth.

Had he never called here for her?

Never. You see, sir, our Molly didn't bring her friends home. Oh, not that she

wasn't a good girl, mind you. But hadn't you any idea she knew him? Didn't she

ever talk about him?

Not a word.

That was fine. When you told me where you found him, I just couldn't...

Well, I won't worry you anymore now.

I expect we'll be getting in touch with you later.

Oh, by the way, if any of those reporter chaps call around here, you don't have

to answer their questions unless you want to.

Good morning.

Nice view from here.

Good morning, Mrs. Dean.

We, uh... That is, myself and my friend from the record. You see, our editors

wondered if they could possibly help you in your very sad bereavement. It's very

kind of them, but really there's nothing... Well, we also wondered if

you'd give us a few details about your niece.

I'll do my best, sir, but really it's been such a shock. Yes, we quite

understand that, Mrs... Is there a photograph we could see?

Did the inspector ask for one? I asked him if he wanted one, and he said they

got all the photos they needed when the body was found.

Yes, we understand.

I'm sorry.

There is one, sir.

Shall I get it?

It? You mean you only have the one?

Yes, sir.

I'll get it. Excuse me.

Only one. Yes, it's hard luck, a man, isn't it? Here it is, sir.

Oh,

what a pretty girl, Mrs. Dean.

Yes, so like her aunt. Can I take this with me?

Really, Mr. Brooks, I'm surprised at you. Do you mean to tell me that you're

willing to plaster that poor kid's photograph all over the front page of

your newspaper?

Really. Words fail me. Hey, wait a minute.

Now, Mrs. Dean, a picture as lovely as that, it's a shame not to let the public

see it. I'd only keep it a few hours.

I'll let you have it back almost at once.

Thank you.

I'm sorry, sir. It really is the only one, and I must keep it now.

I see.

I, uh, could I just have another look at it? Certainly, sir.

Thanks.

The record.

Photo discovered in Kilburn's shop.

Molly Dean, the murderer.

So Del beat you to it again.

He always was a smart reporter. Smart reporter?

Read his trash, then read my story. I don't care two hoots about your story.

There's only one picture, and Del got it. You didn't. Just because he played a

dirty trick on a poor old woman doesn't make him a better reporter.

It's about time you realize that this is a newspaper office and no place for

sentiment. If your grandmother bumped herself off and it was news, I'd expect

you to write it up with any picture you could beg, borrow or steal.

Yes, I know all about that, L.B. Yes, of course you do. That's what you're here

for.

Now look here, Brookie.

It's the other woman's story I want, and you can get it. You're the only one

around here who can.

Thanks. Look, L.B., I know you've got a nose for these things, but what's so

special about this dame?

She's probably just another blonde.

Perhaps.

This woman may be a nobody, but on the other hand, she may be a somebody.

Well, I'm not taking any chances, because if she is a somebody, I want

that story.

It's all yours, Brookie.

Okay?

Okay. Thanks, Chief.

Ah, I've been looking for you everywhere.

Your sudden attention is very flattering, Mr. Brooks. Oh, hello.

Do you know, I don't think I've noticed you properly before.

A little above you, hmm?

Well, what about coming down to earth for some lunch?

Sorry, I've got a date.

Oh, still mixing with the elite of Fleet Street Society, eh?

As you yourself once remarked, Mr. Brooks, that's my business.

Freedom of the press, you know. So, well, I'd hate to see a poor defenceless

girl take steps in the wrong direction.

Oh, Brookie, come back.

Brookie, please, let me down.

No lunch, no get down. Well, I'm only lunching with Betty.

Oh, well, that's different.

Now, how about it?

I should hate to take a step in the wrong direction.

Why, you little double-crosser. What are you going to do about it? I'll give you

three guesses.

It's dangerous for us to meet.

What's the matter? We've got to be quick.

I must know what to say. I may be questioned.

Rubbish. Who's going to question you?

But they've got a story about me and the son. They've got wind of a mystery

woman, that's all. They don't know anything.

Who you are or where you come from.

Oh, Paul, I'm frightened.

There's no need to panic.

Just sit tight and keep your mouth shut.

But it's the son who's got the story. My husband's paper. Exactly. It's a

newspaper stunt. They're playing up that angle, but they've got nothing to go on.

You don't know, Laurie.

Once he thinks he's on to a story, he'll never give up until he's got it.

If he's after you, so much the safer for me.

Remember, it's my life that's at stake.

And mine.

Well, I'm going, Father.

Paul, what'll happen if they get you?

They won't. They've got nothing to go on. That description in the papers fits

thousands of men.

I never had a photograph taken in my life.

Well, you must tell me where I can find you. What? Just in case.

No, I won't write it down. You'll have to remember it. It's 4 Marshall Street,

Camden Town.

4 Marshall Street, Camden Town.

Now, listen, Margaret.

You're not to come and see me unless it's absolutely imperative.

It's too dangerous for me.

Bye.

Oh, morning, Mr. Brooks. Good morning.

Looking for a flat?

Depends what kind of a flat.

I suppose we shall have to issue a statement, otherwise he'll only find it

out for himself.

Of course. Yes.

On the 15th of June last, Paul Grayson leased No. 5 Leicester Mews. He gave no

references, paid six months' rent, cash in advance.

Scott and Yard are now checking up on all details and expect to make an early

arrest. Stick that in your son and burn it.

Come on, Inspector.

I'll give you a lift.

Morning, Governor. Three for half crown.

Oh, thanks.

Tom, did you always work around here?

Well, it's fine, yes.

Much doing?

Well, parties in the mews, hangovers, sometimes a wedding.

Once there was a funeral.

Do you know who that was?

The one with the black tit for?

Yeah. Sure, I know him. It's the ID.

Has he been having a chat with you?

No, why?

Oh, nothing.

Tom, did you keep your bank negatives?

Some of them.

I'd like to do a little deal with you.

Any objections?

The answer's in the negative.

Okay, where do you live?

Just down there.

Come on.

Here you are. Thanks.

Who's that, Brookie? One of your blondes? She's silly. She's 18 stone and

a brassiere. Here's another one.

Thanks. Hello, what's this?

Looks like a hangover. If I know anything about hangovers, that's one.

How many more, Bill? Only a couple or so.

That's not so good.

Oh, Bill, is that really necessary?

Sure, I'm happy in me work. I love working at the Twilights.

Damned if I do. At least not when Bill's around.

Now, if only Bill would leave.

Hello, what's that?

The man, dark hair, small moustache, about five foot ten.

It's a lousy print.

I think we've got something, though. Bill, go and get Mrs. Daly. Okay.

I bet the poor old girl's in a flat spin out there.

Would you come this way, Mrs. Daly? Oh, Lord, sir, the way you had me whisked,

dear. I'm all of a flutter. Come on, now.

Would you mind fluttering this way?

Here we are. Ah, come in, Mrs. Daly.

Now, sit down.

Get your glasses out.

Take a look at this picture for me.

Now, is that man Grayson?

Don't think so, sir.

Is this him?

No. This one?

No.

Is this it?

No.

Are you quite sure this isn't Grayson? Well, let's have another look, sir.

But this one's so dark.

Well, come over here.

Have a look at it over here.

That's him, sir.

That's the blighter. What a girl.

All

Grayson

himself. His charwoman's just identified it.

Well, she must have damn good eyesight.

It's a filthy print.

I get the scoop of the century and all you can say is it's a filthy print. A

scoop but not the scoop, Brookie. Find the woman who... Don't say it, don't say

it. I can take a hint.

Well, this is a front page picture.

Boy.

Art department.

Yes, sir.

There are lots of stories, LB, but only one picture. As far as I'm concerned,

there's only one story.

Art department.

Art department. I'm sending up an exclusive of Grayson. Okay.

Hello, darling.

I'm through for tonight.

I got a surprise for you.

I'm coming home.

You sound very pleased with yourself.

Is everything all right?

Yes, fine.

Brookie's found a photograph of Grayson.

What's he like?

Darkish hair, dark moustache, about 5 foot 10.

If you see him around, you might let me know.

Well, see you soon. Oh, just a minute, darling.

I've got to go out for a little while.

Must you?

Yes, I promised I'd go around and see Mary Andrews.

No, I'm all right, but I shan't be here when you get back.

You won't stay then?

No, I won't be long.

Okay, darling. See you later.

Goodbye.

Shouldn't have come here. It's urgent.

They've got your photograph.

What?

Nonsense. They didn't photograph me anyway. But there is. The son's printing

it. Laurie telephoned your description.

Let's get away.

Right away.

Why did you come here?

If my name is dragged into this, the scandal will ruin my husband as well.

Nobody's thinking of me, I suppose.

Get right out of the country.

You've got to help me.

Money?

Oh, you're being sensible.

Plenty. But, Paul, I don't know how I can get it. You wouldn't do it if you

could try.

Listen, if you don't do this, I warn you, I shan't keep my mouth shut.

I see.

All right, I'll bring it tomorrow.

But not here.

Waterloo, inside the news theatre, 8 o'clock.

But it's too dangerous. That's your lookout.

You've got to take that risk.

Anyway, they're not going to get me. Do you understand?

Margaret.

Remember, we're in this together.

Here's another one, chaps. A Mr Tweddle of Wapping.

He claims the £500 reward.

Anybody want 500 quid? All you've got to do is to find Grayson.

Why, Dilly, there's a Mr Jones to see you.

Mr Jones? Not the Mr Jones? Yeah, that's him. Okay, wheel him in, wheel him in.

This is the chap that's had a theory on every murder case since Jack the Ripper.

Ah, Mr. Jones.

Nice to see you again. How do you do? Nice to see you, Mr. Dell.

Take a pew. Oh, thank you very much.

Well, I... Allow me. Oh, thank you very... Your hand. Oh.

Well, the... About this Muse murder, I've got a... A theory?

Yes. It seems to me the most interesting study in psychological behavior is...

Ah, our old friend Psycho. Yes, exactly.

By a most curious coincidence, I was standing... At the corner of the street?

No, no, no, no. I was standing... Still?

Yes, yes.

When suddenly something occurred, which, well, I mean, can only happen once in a

lifetime. Don't tell me you've fallen in love.

Oh, no, no, Stadel. Nothing cardiac. Please.

Let me see. Where was I?

Still standing still.

Oh, yes, yes, yes. Well, suddenly, out of the blue, there came... A bird?

No, no, Mr. Burns. Deli, the chief's been asking for you.

All right, all right. Well, Mr. Jones, I'm afraid I must love you and leave

you. We'll talk about old psychos some other time. But this is important. Yes,

I know it is. Don't forget your parachute.

But this is quite different to the other cases. Yes, I'm... Just a minute. What?

I know the very man for your theories.

He knows all about psychological... Behaviourism.

Quite. Now you go along and see him and have a nice little chat with him. Thank

you. Give my love to all the other Joneses. Take you quite a time.

Yes.

Well,

good day, gentlemen, good day.

Quite amusing.

Yes, well, a man came into my shop early this morning.

He wasn't particularly like your photograph of Grayson. No reflection on

your photographer, of course. I mean, he had no moustache and he wore glasses,

but of course I've studied the Bertillon system and bone formation and

anthropometrical and so forth.

He asked for a copy of The Sun.

Naturally. Brookie, give Mr. Jones a chance.

They ought to have nice young ladies like you in all newspaper offices.

I'm fascinated.

Shut up.

Oh, not you, Mr. Jones. Well, I hadn't got a copy of The Sun.

Mr. Jones?

No copies of The Sun?

They were all sold out.

So I offered him the Gazette or the Record, but he wouldn't have either.

Man of taste, whoever he was.

Go on, Mr. Jones. What happened next?

Well, I said, you know, there's not very much between them to choose, you know.

But he said, no, I must have a son.

Not a star?

No, no, no, a son.

I never like to let my customers go away unsatisfied.

Hooray! So I let him have my copy of the son.

And as I handed it to him, there it was.

Right in the front page, Grayson's photograph.

I know. I put it there.

But that doesn't prove that your customer was Grayson. Mr. Brooks, the

man who came into my shop and the man whose photograph was in the sun are one

and the same. I have studied psychological behaviorism.

Brookie, Mr. Jones may be right.

There isn't enough to go on.

Go on, Mr. Jones. Was there anything else? Anything unusual?

Well, let me see.

Yes, he...

Came into the shop. He asked for a copy of the Sun.

He bought a copy of the Psychic News.

Wait a minute.

Did you say the Psychic News?

Yes, the Psychic News.

Grayson seen in London.

Thank you, Mr. Jones.

Well,

you've seen that, of course.

But the record may be wrong.

I'm backing Brookie. Well, I'm not.

Dodds has left for Norfolk. He has?

Where'd you get this? Press club.

Where's Brookie?

I wouldn't know.

Well, get someone to find him. I'll be at home. I'm going now.

Okay.

You must give me more time.

I'll give it to you tomorrow night, not a moment later.

I'll try.

You'll do more than try.

You'll bring that money here tomorrow.

If you don't, well... All right.

Here, half past seven tomorrow.

Better go now.

Hello?

Hello, you're home early.

Living up to my promise.

You going out?

No, I've just come in.

Good, let's have a drink.

Whiskey? Please.

This is the first quiet evening I've had for weeks.

First quiet evening I've had for weeks.

Nice of you to invite me in.

Well, I'm enjoying it too.

You know, you look absolutely right in that setting. More becoming than the

newspaper office.

Brookie, keep your mind on your music.

Impossible while you're standing there.

Come sit here.

Well, go on.

Oh.

All right.

Anne, you know this chasing around after other dames.

It doesn't mean anything.

No other woman in your life, Brookie? No.

Oh, one, of course. You know who that is.

Yes. Have you done anything about her yet? No, I can't get a lead.

It's all very well for Ellington to give orders.

Well, you must admit he knows his job. Oh, sure, he's a damn fine news editor.

But what a hell of a life he leads.

Never has a minute to himself.

A lovely home and a wife, and never sees either of them.

I like Mrs. Ellington.

So do I.

She deserves a better husband.

You know, one day, Brookie, I can hear somebody saying that about you.

Poor Mrs. Brooks. She deserves somebody better than Mr. Brooks.

That's why there isn't going to be a Mrs. Brooks.

Newspaper men shouldn't get married.

But, Brookie, I... Oh, that only applies to news editors. Of course, reporters

are different.

Well, then you'd better stay just as you are.

Oh, dear. Who's that? I'll give you two guesses. Shall I? Yes, please do.

Hello!

Oh, hello.

Brookie, where the hell did you get that story about Grayson being in London?

Oh, a man told me. He came in the office.

Jones. Jones?

Arthur Jones?

Can you believe that lunatic? Have you gone completely crazy?

Yes. No.

Now, look, Elby, leave this to me. I'll get proof of it.

How?

Oh, somehow.

Now, look here. Do you ever read the papers?

The record says that Grayson's in Norfolk. All the other newspapers say

that Grayson's in Norfolk. And Inspector Dodds has gone to Norfolk.

Now look here, Brookie, get me a story. A real one this time. Get me something

on that other woman.

All right, L.B. I'll get on to it first thing tomorrow morning. Tomorrow. Get me

something tonight.

I'm working on that line now.

What do you suggest, L.B.? Now, how should I know?

You're the ace crime reporter.

I'm just the news editor.

There you are, Anne. I thought that'd be a lesson to you.

It's always the wrong people who get murdered.

Now, if only Grayson had fallen for Ellington.

You've got to go.

Yes, I'll be still on about this missing dame. He seems to think I'm a bloodhound

or something. I don't know where else to look.

Well, according to the charwoman, she went to Grayson's flat often enough.

There might be something in there.

Yes, there might have been.

Anyway, it'll satisfy LB that I'm doing something.

Well, darling, I'd better get going. It's only been half an hour. I expect

I'll have to break in. Now, don't go and get yourself pinched. What, me?

The police and I are like that.

Oh.

Thanks.

Pick him up.

Now then, what are you doing here?

I'm a police officer.

You'll have to come with me to Vine Street, where you'll be formally

charged.

I suppose you know it's a criminal offence breaking into private premises.

Ah, officer, you're just in time.

I caught this man breaking in here.

Okay, Newton. I'll handle it.

What, are you from the police? Yeah.

Apparently you already know it's a criminal offense breaking into these

premises. Oh, that's all right. I'm a reporter.

Oh, yeah?

And what else?

Well, I tell you, I am. Look, here's my... Damn it, I left my press pass in

my other suit.

But you can phone Inspector Dodds. He's a friend of mine. He'll tell you all

about me. You can tell that to the magistrate tomorrow.

Reporter or not, you've no business in this flat. Come on. I tell you, it's all

a mistake. Come on. You can't do this to me.

Good morning.

A good reporter keeps in with the police. Yes. He doesn't land himself in

jail.

I don't care if you rob the Bank of England, but bring back a story. Have

you got one?

Well, not exactly a story, but... Look, I found this in Grayson's flat. What is

it, a picture of the other woman?

Well, it's a picture of her hat.

Oh, look, she's marked the page.

But that's no proof that she bought it. There's a chance that she did. If we can

find the woman that's wearing that hat... I suppose it hasn't occurred to

you that there may be hundreds of other women who might have bought that hat?

Oh, yes, I thought of that. Of course, it'll take some time. About two years at

the rate you work.

Now, listen, Brookie, will you do me a favor? Yeah, sure. What is it?

Stop playing the detective and bring me a story.

And if you fall down on this job, you better look for one with a fashion

paper. Yeah, okay, okay.

Good morning, Brookie.

What's good about it?

Yes, I know. You and the police are like that. Oh, forget it. Seen L.B.? Uh-huh.

Well, never mind. In spite of the record, dogs, Norfolk and L.B., I still

think that little man Jones was right. So do I, but you try and convince him.

What's that?

Oh, I picked it up in Grayson's flat.

I thought that hat might belong to the missing girlfriend.

It's funny. I seem to have seen that somewhere before.

Oh, I'm not surprised. There are hundreds like it.

Says who?

L.B. He's quite an authority on hats.

Well, judging from his own, I wouldn't have suspected it.

Whoever wears that must know how to dress. Do you mind if I keep it? It

might help me to remember.

Is it all right for this evening?

This evening?

Oh, gosh, I'd forgotten. What time?

About six.

Yeah, that's all right. Anyone else coming?

Only Betty and a friend of yours.

Who, Josie, the chocolate coon? What do you think?

No, Del.

Now, why go and spoil it? Del's not a friend of mine.

I don't think I'll come. Now, don't be selfish, Brookie. We must have a fourth.

But, Anne, I... No, Del, no dinner.

Okay, you're the boss.

I find I very seldom wear it.

Oh, quite, quite. I understand, Mrs. Ellington.

I'm afraid we can't allow you as much as you paid for it. Of course not.

How much could you allow?

Well, would 200 pounds be acceptable to you?

I think that sounds quite reasonable.

If it's convenient, I'd like to have the money now. Oh, certainly, certainly.

You prefer cash?

Yes. Williams, bring up 200 pounds in notes right away.

I must come in in a few days and look at your new pieces. Oh, thank you, madam.

Is there anything in the cabinet that might interest you?

No, I don't think so, just now. Thank you.

Oh, thank you, widows.

Here you are, Mrs. Ellington.

£150, £5.51.

Thank you so much.

Good day, madam. Good day.

I don't know why we go to all this trouble for a couple of good-for-nothing

reporters. Don't be silly, Betty. You know you're enjoying it. You're not

really so hard-boiled as you pretend.

Well, we mustn't make a habit of it or they'll stop using restaurants.

Brookie's late. He said he'd be here by six. Of course, that's Brookie all over.

Always hurrying to be late for an appointment.

Well, he can't help it. He's keen on his job.

Yes, you're right.

More keen on his work than on anything else.

Oh, is everything set? Come on, let's have a drink while we wait. It's a good

idea. I hope you realize that Brookie's married already.

What? Yes, to his paper.

You could never marry him. It would be bigamy. Well, in that case, I shall have

to arrange for a divorce.

Yeah.

Well, may you never fall for a newspaper man.

It's too late.

Here's to you.

There he is.

Hello. Hello.

It's a birthday present for you. Oh, Brookie, how sweet of you.

But I'm afraid I had a birthday three months ago.

Oh, did you?

Well, none of us are getting any younger.

Hey, Scarlett, isn't it? I'm okay. Have a beer.

Thanks.

Here, let me do it. You'll make it look like an ice cream soda or fizz and

froth.

Betty, put those in water, will you?

Oh.

Well, if you two lovebirds will excuse me, I'll wait and see to the cooking.

What a sport I am. What a sport. Well, Cinderella.

Well,

I'm through with the paper. What?

Oh, only till the morning.

L.B. couldn't fire me. I'm too valuable.

Talking of L.B., I've remembered where I saw that hat before.

Oh, where?

Mrs. Ellington had one exactly like it. Oh, Mrs. Ellington.

So that eliminates one suspect.

Well, that's fine. That only leaves 999 more.

Funny L.B. never mentioned his wife had a hat like that.

You don't suppose he's the sort of man who notices what clothes his wife wears.

I'll bet you he doesn't even know the colour of her eyes.

Gee, that must be terrible to get like that.

It's common enough.

What colour are mine?

Eh? Yours? Oh, they're, uh... They're... Uh, I know what color they are. They're,

um... No, wait a minute, Anne. They're, uh... Why, they're, uh... Yes,

I do. I've just forgotten for the moment.

All right, then. See if you can remember.

Why, uh... Oh, shall I go?

Yes, please do.

Color of eyes and flowers and saucepan lids.

Oh, let's get on with the dinner.

No, we don't want any. They're not fresh.

Did you put the acid out? I did.

Who was that, Bookie?

Oh, it was the wrong number. Oh.

And they're grey.

Uh-oh.

You go, Bethany.

Okay.

Oh, it's you, is it? Yes, it's me. Oh, thank you. Oh, no. Oh, no.

Have I seen those before?

In the cemetery up the road, darling. Thank you.

How's the Haggis?

Honest.

Really, girls, you must be more careful with your servants. That man that opened

the door. Did you get him from the prison reform league? Cut the comedy,

Del. Well, go on. Why don't you give Betty the flowers you brought for her?

Oh, yes, of course.

Why, thanks, Del. This is nice of you. Not at all.

Have a drink?

Oh, thank you. Thank you.

Betty. Me again.

If that's for me, I'm dead.

The funeral's tomorrow.

All welcome.

Hello.

Yes.

It's for you, Brookie. It's for Mr. Jones.

Oh, Mr. Jones.

Why didn't you tell him I wasn't here?

It's a nice way to treat your old friends. Oh, come on. He's still hanging

on. Come on, Brookie. You might as well speak to him.

All right. And tell him to give our love to Mr. Grayson.

Cheerio.

There you are, sir.

Hello, Mr. Jones.

Mr. Brooks, I'm on the trail.

The murderer.

Grayson.

Seen him? Where?

Waterloo? Newsletter?

No, Mr. Jones, I'm afraid I'm too busy.

I'll meet you there in a quarter of an hour.

I shall be awaiting you, Mr. Brooks.

Yes, very interesting theory, Mr. Jones, but I'm afraid I haven't got time.

Probably a case of psychological behaviorism.

I'll consider it, but I'm too busy now.

Now listen, Adam, what about this dinner? I'll have Brookie's share. He'll

be there for life.

I've gone.

Rotter.

Betty, I'm going to have a quick snack and I'm going straight back to the

office. What on earth for?

Brookie's on to something hot and I want to be there when the story breaks.

Oh, where is he?

He's in there. He's in the news theatre.

I'll show you. Quite sure it's Grayson. Oh, yes, indubitably. I've got two

tickets.

You know, the last time I went to the pictures, I saw the birth of a nation.

Yes, it was very interesting.

A remarkable case of psychological behavior, isn't it? Oh, yes.

Oh,

thank you.

There he is, Mr. Brooks.

That's him.

An assignation.

The hat.

Oh, yes. No, not shorts.

Oh, I mean...

Stay

here. I want to get nearer to them.

I'm catching the 925.

You'd better leave in a few minutes.

I'm going to stay here for the last possible moment.

But Paul... Shh, no names.

Jonesy, go and phone Ellington for me. Tell him to hold the front page for the

other woman's story.

The other woman's story? Yes. Do you know the number?

Yes. Go on then, get going.

Listen, I'll watch her.

When you get back, keep your eye on Grayson. Yes. He's catching the 925.

If I'm not back by then, phone Inspector Dodds.

Yes. You've got it?

Yes. Go on then, get going.

Hello,

could I have the news editor, please?

And I'm arranging to send you a supply of press forms.

Your sincerity.

Yes? Who?

Mr. Arthur Jones.

What is it?

Message from Brookie?

He's found the other woman.

Okay. Tell him to phone me as soon as he can.

George, Brookie's found the other woman.

You'll be getting it.

Grant.

Waiting, those feelers come and go.

I'm waiting for someone that I know will

come back for me.

Those waters rise and fall.

Stars glisten, there comes a sudden call.

Why, see, I phoned Mr. Ellington.

I... Hello,

Brookie. Got a story?

Can you give me five more minutes?

Okay.

You're cutting it fine.

Chief, sir.

He's just come in. I'll ring you back.

Well, have you put anything over yet?

What are you standing there for?

Go on, get out and get on with it.

Brookie, what's the matter with you?

There's no story, LB.

No story. I'm the best judge of that. You just give me the facts.

You've had them.

Grayson's in London. That's all I know. I don't care a damn about Grayson. The

police can look after him.

Brookie, you're holding something back.

Nothing you could use, LB.

Are you trying to tell me how to run the paper?

I'm telling you to forget it.

When I want advice from a third-rate reporter who falls down in this job,

I'll ask for it.

Now look here, Brookie. I'll give you one last chance.

You know something.

What are you holding back?

Why did you send that message through Jones?

I thought I had something, but... I guess I just slipped up again.

That's once too often.

Brookie?

You're through.

Sinclair, do your best for the front page.

There'll be no change-up.

Put the paper to bed.

Brookie?

What is it? What's happened?

I'm fired.

But why?

Fell down on my job. That's why.

Brookie, I... Mrs. Ellington.

Brookie, you... Leave this to me.

Have you told him? Of course not.

Told L.B. there was no story and that's all there is to it.

I'm so grateful to you, Brookie. I don't know what to say. You don't have to say

anything, Mrs. Ellington.

Now, get Grayson tonight and that'll be an end of it.

Get Grayson tonight? What do you mean?

They're going to pick him up.

Oh!

You're not in love with this man, are you?

Oh, no, it's not that. Only... I gave him some money to get away.

I had to. He was going to tell my husband.

He's got 200 pounds in notes. They'll be traced to me and Laurie will find out.

Okay. I'll get the money.

But you stay here till I get back.

And look after Mrs. Ellington. I'm going on a job.

Is she the... Yeah.

I must have been mad to go to his flat.

But I was so miserable and upset.

Laurie and I had planned such a lovely evening together.

And then he cancelled it at the last minute.

That sort of thing had been going on for months.

Promising to come home early.

Promising to live a more normal life.

Then when he telephoned, I was angry and hurt.

I felt as if he didn't care about me anymore.

As if he'd lost interest in me.

No, if Brookie doesn't get that money back, I've wrecked both our lives.

You'll get it, Mrs. Ellington.

I know he will.

Yes, Inspector Dodds. He's on the 925.

It's absolutely certain.

Mr. Brooks!

Mr. Brooks!

Mr.

Brooks! Mr. Brooks!

I phoned Inspector Dodds.

Guilford Police Station.

Inspector Dodge. Yes, sir.

Paul Grayson, left Waterloo, 9.25.

Arriving Guilford, 10.10. Have him picked up.

Oh, excuse me.

Are you two ladies going as far as Portsmouth?

I'm only going as far as Guildford.

Guildford? Oh.

Well, as we've been travelling a little far together, may I introduce myself?

She's deaf.

Oh.

Oh, yes, I'm sorry.

Excuse me, have you got a light?

Thank you.

Thank you.

Tickets, please, gentlemen.

Oh, I'm afraid I didn't have time to get mine.

Uh, Guilford Return.

Thank you, sir. How much is it?

That'll be five and eleven, sir.

Thank you.

How do you get a girlfriend?

Ten, ten, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Well, Mr. Grayson, you've got another 30 minutes.

Sit down, Grayson.

I've got a warrant for your arrest.

And don't try and start anything.

I've got men all along the train.

You can't make me talk.

I'm not going to say a word until I've seen my lawyer.

You don't have to. We've got all the proof we need.

Come on, hand them over.

What?

The notes in your wallet.

Come on.

Thanks, reporter.

Now pick it up and get over there.

You might as well put that thing away.

Just hand over the 200 and I'll forget I've seen you.

You're a cool customer.

What's the game?

Blackmail?

Listen, Grayson.

If you're caught, those notes will be traced to the woman who gave them to

you. So that's it.

Now you listen to me.

I don't know what part you play in this, but I'm not going to get caught.

The only two people know where I am.

One certainly won't talk.

And I'm going to see that the other one can't.

You wouldn't have the nerve to use that.

Wouldn't I?

I used one once.

Now get out of the door.

Now either get out by yourself or else...

Darling, keep your mouth shut.

Good evening, gentlemen.

I simply had to get away from those two women. They looked at me so suspiciously

every time I passed a remark or two.

A cigarette?

How well I remember travelling on this train many years ago. All the way to

Portsmouth. I was going abroad.

It was most exciting.

What happy memories.

Yes, what lovely days.

Such a wonderful time.

Another quarter of an hour.

Tonight I'm only going as far as Guildford.

Let me see.

That's only another ten minutes.

How far are you going, sir?

Shut up.

May I remind you that politeness is the

privilege of princes. I wish you a safe journey.

This is where you jump.

And this time you do jump.

Yes, you're right.

Kill it, we'll make the rescue story a top.

Yes.

Rookie, where are you?

What?

Amblin.

Yes.

Grayson's dead.

On a railway track.

A fight?

What? This is a lousy line.

Okay. Well, I don't care what's happened as long as he's dead.

Anybody else got it?

No? That's the stuff, Rookie.

Hold the line, I'll put you through.

Mr. Brooks wants to dictate.

George. Paul Grayson's dead.

What? Killed on a railway track. What a story. Brookie got it on his own.

He's dictating a new intro now. You'll have it in a few minutes.

And if that isn't worth a splash on the second edition, I'm no judge of a story.

Grayson's dead.

Brookie's got a beat. It's not on the tape yet.

Heard about Grayson. He's dead. Blimey.

Grayson killed.

Grayson's dead. Give it a double column lead and let it run.

That's all I have, boys.

Grayson's dead.

That means a rejig on the second edition.

Copy, boy!

And I can't stand it.

Paul's dead. The police are bound to have found the notes. If Laurie's to

find out, I must tell him. Please, Mrs. Aynton, please. No, I can't wait any

longer.

Where is she? She's in there.

Margaret, what are you doing here?

I want to see you, Laurie. I must talk to you. Oh,

I'm sorry, Chief. Good of you, Miss Ellison.

I thought you'd like the rest of the Grayson story. Sure, we're running it

now. But it'll make a good follow-up for tomorrow.

Rookie, you've done a real job of work.

But it's a pity we missed the story.

Yes.

Darling, we're going out.

I like your hat.

And I won't need you anymore tonight.

Oh, but I shall.