Original subtitles

in boy hello old boy you didn't forget did you

Mrs. Vickers isn't in at the moment.

Yes, I'll speak to her and bring her back in the morning.

Yes, of course, I'll... Hello, Joan.

Where's Angie?

Philip!

Where have you been? What's happened to you?

Where's Angie?

She's not here. She's down at the river cottage.

I see.

Still the same crowd?

The same part is.

My thing's still upstairs.

Philip, why didn't you let us know?

And spoil the surprise.

Get yourself a drink, Joan. You look awful.

Oh, and Joan, don't ring Andrew, do you understand?

I'm going down there myself.

They will be surprised, won't they, boy?

It'll be nice to know what your car is doing in my wife's garage.

Seen Angie around?

Angie? Angie Vickers. She's giving this party.

Oh, I haven't seen Angie for a long time.

I'll tell you a secret.

You look for Job Crandall, Bill Salt and Harry Bryce.

She'll be there.

Will she?

Will she really? Come on, darling, let's dance.

Oh, handsome, where'd you come from?

Listen, Crandall, I gave you 48 more hours to think it over. But you know

what'll happen if you don't come to the right conclusion.

And if I get one more threat out of you...

Hello, Job.

Sessions. Vic, we thought you were dead.

Now I'm alive.

But when did you... Now that I found my business manager and chief accountant

together.

How is the old firm?

Naturally, we've taken care of everything while you've been gone.

Business has improved.

Nearly one third.

Fine.

You won't need me back for a while.

You seen Angie around?

No, not since I first arrived.

Thanks.

Now perhaps you'll change your mind.

Turn around, Bill.

Go away, will you?

I said turn around. Say hello, Bill. Welcome me home.

Vickers.

Thank you, Bill.

Maybe you can tell me where Angie is.

I'll see you later Bill.

Thank you.

Can I get good and ready?

In that case, I'll save my questions till later.

Anyway, it's good to see you back, Vic.

This is going to be fun.

You always did have a weird sense of humor.

At least I have one, which is more than you can say.

Unless... Unless what?

Unless you've acquired one in your travels, along with that scar.

You've changed, Vic.

Changed a lot.

Which do you think you prefer, Bill?

You weren't very fond of the old pickers, as I recall it.

I don't like people very much.

Not even the people I like.

I can use about four gallons of that.

Help yourself.

What happened to you, Vic?

He's not talking.

But after four years...

Nobody knew whether you were alive or dead.

You just walk in, not a word to anybody, and scare the living dead. I wonder if

either of you made this much fuss when I disappeared.

Anyone seen Harry?

Oh, Jenny, this is Mr. Philip Vickers.

Vic, this is Jenny, who I'm afraid is not as bright as a penny.

Hello, Jenny.

Hello to you.

Say, by the way, where is Harry?

Vic.

Tell us, what did happen to you?

You were with me, Job.

You and Bill and Harry Bryce.

Perhaps you'd like to tell me what happened.

Sit down, everybody.

What are you having for breakfast?

I'm a bit fake.

I said, what are you having for breakfast?

Almond eggs, that's always easy.

Sit down, Charles.

Hi, that sounds good.

Who's the good Samaritan?

Hello, Vic. Hello, hello.

Vic, what happened to you?

Tell me.

What did they say happened to me? My friends, John, Harry, and Bill.

They didn't know they wired me from Portugal that you disappeared.

Why didn't you send word to me? Why didn't you tell me?

Tell you what?

For three years, I didn't even know my own name.

Amnesia?

One night we anchored in a small Portuguese harbor.

I'd had one highball aboard the boat, but when we went ashore, I was very,

very drunk.

I don't know where we went, what we did, or who went with me.

But I do remember a man's voice saying, turn around, Vickers.

I've waited a long time for this. I want to watch your face as you go down.

I suppose I remember those words because even when you're drugged, you remember a

sentence of death.

I don't know what hit me or how long it was before I came to, but when I did, I

was aboard a Mexican tramp.

I had nothing in my pocket to tell me who I was.

Nothing in my head either.

Except a big hole.

Big.

Maybe now you can understand why I didn't write once I've recovered my

memory.

You see, a corpse doesn't write to his executioner and say, I'm coming back.

But of course, this is all a big surprise to you, isn't it?

Not really.

It's what I've been afraid of.

Afraid one of them had killed me?

Afraid, Angie?

Or glad?

Oh, Vic.

You haven't changed a bit.

But they're here.

You couldn't have been that afraid.

For four years I've been trying to find out what happened to you.

Hey, Vic.

Vic!

What is it?

Vic, they found Harry.

He's dead.

It's crazy.

We were on the terrace, all of us.

We were talking about Harry, wondering where he was.

And then he just seemed to float right out from under the landing.

I called Bill. He must have got caught underneath.

But how did it happen?

You mean, who made it happen?

He was our friend, Vic. It must have been accidental.

We were all friends in Portugal, Job.

All four of us.

What's Portugal got to do with it?

Nothing, maybe.

Maybe a lot.

You'd better go call the police.

And ring Joe and Meryl. Tell her she'd better come down to the cottage.

Right.

You said it was going to be fun.

About that sense of humor of yours... I'm beginning to like it even less than

mine.

Nobody even said they were sorry.

Are you sorry, Vic?

I don't know yet.

Vic!

Did you see Harry last night?

Did I, Bill?

Were you with Harry last night, Angie?

Yes.

But only for a moment.

He was very unpleasant. I told him to go away, and he did.

Were you down there, Vic?

A leading question, but yes, I was.

I saw you going aboard the boat.

There was no sign of Harry then.

Just his cigarette case.

I found it in the boathouse.

Why did you take the boat out, Angie?

I wanted to get away.

Well,

I wouldn't tell the police that if I were you.

Then I won't tell them you were there either.

Do you think I killed him, Angie?

Well, perhaps you heard his voice and it was the same one that you heard in

Portugal. Yes.

Perhaps four years ago you said to Harry, you're going on a long cruise

with my husband.

If by chance anything permanent should befall him, I should be most grateful.

I hope for your sake, Angie, the police have a different theory.

What do you think, Doc?

Look at that.

See the shape of the wound? A round, lacerated area here.

Uh-huh.

The skull is splintered underneath.

Looks to me like a bar of pipe with a lump at one end.

Do you think he was hit?

Sure he was hit. And hard, too.

Could he have done it falling?

He could have done. If he did, he went to a lot of trouble to knock his brains

out. If he hadn't, eh? He doesn't look any too bright.

Men in his condition seldom do.

Check two things particularly.

Could he have done it falling?

And could a woman have done it?

An active woman in good condition.

The sort that sails boats and things. Ah, women.

They're getting too capable for their own good these days.

Hey, Doc, come over here.

He doesn't seem to have bled a lot.

He wouldn't with that kind of wound.

Oh.

And if he was murdered, the killer probably wouldn't have got any blood on

him. Hmm.

Looks as though he lay down for a few minutes and then got up.

It's amazing sometimes how long a chap can live with his skull smashed in.

Then I suppose he fell over the edge.

Somebody might at least have stepped in that puddle so he'd have a nice handy

bloodstained shoe print to check on, not even a sign of a track.

Oh, well, they told me detecting wasn't easy.

It's my own fault.

I'm afraid accidents like this don't just happen.

Of course, there's a faint possibility that he struck his head in falling from

the landing. We'll know better after the autopsy.

But who would want to murder Harry?

He was always such a nice guy.

Go to the sleep door.

That's for the inspector to find out.

Now, exactly what happened here last night?

There was a party.

Uh-huh.

What time did you arrive, Mr. Vickers?

I got here about midnight.

I wasn't focusing too good by then.

What about Harry Bryce? What did he do? Where was he? Who was he with?

I don't know about the rest of them, but I didn't see him all night. Angie

brought him down.

I came with some other people.

Harry and I had a fight.

A fight?

Story of our friendship, Inspector. One long, happy fight.

I didn't care, of course, but I didn't think it looked right for him to be

spending so much time with Angie while he was supposed to be engaged to me.

So, of course, he went right over to Angie's, and that's the last I saw of

him all night.

He was making a nuisance of himself, Inspector.

I drove him down in my car because he was in no condition to drive himself.

But his car is here.

I drove it down.

I see.

You've been missing for four years, haven't you, Mr. Vickers?

Yes.

As I recall it, you vanished during a fishing cruise in Portuguese waters.

Harry Bryce and these two gentlemen were with you.

What happened?

I can see the question's going to get monotonous.

This happened.

I went ashore one night and was knocked on the head. Result, amnesia and four

rather unpleasant years.

Assault and robbery?

Something like that.

You certainly kept the news quiet, Mrs. Vickers. There was nothing to keep

quiet. I said no word that I was coming.

Do you think your sudden return might have had any bearing on what happened?

What bearing could it possibly have?

I've no idea.

That's why I asked you.

One other thing. I want everything in this house left just as it is. That

means wearing apparel, personal effects, the works.

They'll be returned to you as soon as we're through.

I assume that none of you are wearing the clothes you had on last night?

Except me.

I can't let you have them now. I'd feel so conspicuous.

Oh.

All right, but don't have them cleaned or brushed.

I'll send a man to the house to pick them up. That goes for shoes, socks, the

like. Mrs. Vickers.

Would you be kind enough to let me have a guest list? Everyone who was here last

night? Yes. Would you do that for me, too?

May I drive you home, miss?

Well, who am I to argue with the law?

You know, that was quite a party.

You'll be hearing from us, Mr. Vickers.

We'd be most unhappy if we didn't, Inspector.

And now, if you don't mind, you can all leave.

And while you're at it, start covering up tracks and rehearsing alibis.

Somebody's going to need a good one.

Turn around, Vickers!

Turn around, Vickers!

Turn around, Vickers!

Turn around, Vickers!

Morning, Philip.

Any coffee left?

Yes, I think so.

I'm just trying to finish that list of guests, Inspector.

Joan, how would you like to go down to the cottage for a while?

I don't understand.

Angie and I have a lot of years to make up for. We want to be alone.

If the cottage doesn't appeal to you, choose a hotel.

I'd suggest a trip somewhere if it weren't for the police.

If you want to get rid of me, Philip, why don't you just say so?

All right, I say so.

What about Angie?

If you must know the truth, I haven't discussed it with her.

You mean you're just pushing me out?

Let's call it a vacation.

Even social secretaries need vacations once in a while.

Anyway, the social season's over, I'm afraid.

I'll let Angie tell me.

Angie is still asleep, I'm telling you.

That's the way it's going to be, Joan.

I've called for a taxi.

It's a lot.

I see you've talked of everything.

I've tried to.

Even my suitcase.

I'll send the rest of your things on later.

Well, at least let me go and get my hand.

It's in the case.

I've put a check in it. Let me know when you want more.

Wherever she wants to go. Very good.

Hi.

Hi. I'm starved.

Here's your orange juice.

Smells so good.

I'm going to sit down until it's ready.

The house is so quiet this morning. I haven't seen Joan.

She isn't here.

What? I sent her away for vacation.

She's earned it.

I sent the servants too.

But I don't understand.

Why would you do such a thing?

Things have to be worked out.

We've got to be alone.

Breakfast is ready. The phones don't work.

I know. I cut off the extensions. Use the one in my den. Your den is locked.

Is it?

That's funny. I must have done it without thinking.

Why do you want me alone in the house with the only phone in a locked room?

Because I want to stay alive.

Someone tried to kill me last night. They may try again.

Perhaps Harry Bryce knew who it was that time in Portugal. That's why he's dead.

Whoever it is wants you free of me pretty bad. If they think you're in any

possible danger, they'll try to get me one way or another. Well, then call the

police. Let them help you. I need your help, Angie.

I want that somebody to get the impression that I've gone a little mad.

That I've deliberately locked you off from all touch with the past.

And perhaps I even intend to kill you.

Now do you understand?

Why doesn't Andrew call me? There are telephones all over the house. I've

tried repeatedly, but I can't get any answer.

I'm afraid, Inspector.

He's got her there alone in that house, and I'm frightened.

Then I think you'd better sit down and tell me why.

Don't be afraid to say anything you want, Miss Merrill. I'm here to listen.

Inspector, I think Philip Vickers killed Harry Bryce.

Why? Because Harry was in love with Philip's wife.

Was Mrs. Vickers in love with Harry Bryce?

No, I almost wish she had been.

But you're not sure that Vickers believes that?

I'm only sure of one thing. He's got her there alone in that house.

And who knows what may have happened to him mentally during the past four years.

A blow on the head which destroyed his memory could have done so much more.

Yes.

Did Mrs.

Vickers ever mention that perhaps Mr. Vickers' disappearance was not

accidental?

She once said that she wondered whether it could have been murder.

What do you think?

I wouldn't have cared if it was.

You always treated her shamefully.

Never once considered her feelings.

Oh, but I can't imagine any one of those three killing someone. They're just not

the kind of people who commit murders.

I wish I had a week's holiday with pay for every time I've heard that. I

wouldn't have to work again till 1994.

Now you get some rest, Miss Merrill.

Let us do the worrying.

Thank you, Inspector.

Oh, Miss Merrill. Yes?

Wasn't your father financially involved in a corporation that was bankrupted by

Mr. Vickers' company?

And didn't he take his own life shortly afterwards?

If it wasn't for Philip Vickers, my father would be alive today.

Is that all, Inspector?

Yes, that's all, Miss Merrill.

This is Johnson, sir. We've found the murder weapon, I think.

You have?

What is it?

It's a short length of inch metal piping drilled and bolted at one end.

Water's washed clean, of course, and the surface is no good for prints.

Uh-huh.

Could a woman have used it?

Oh, yes. Not too heavy for a woman, sir.

Okay. Keep at it.

I suppose you want to hear my story about what happened on the fatal night.

If you have one.

Sure, I've got two or three. Which one do you want to hear?

Oh, the one you think will keep me from breathing my hot little breath down your

neck?

I was quite a mob around.

Somebody put some atomic energy in my cocktails.

I don't remember anything after Vickers arrived.

Vickers was sober when you saw him.

Oh, yeah, Vic didn't drink.

Not what you call drinking.

But he was drunk that night in Portugal.

Everybody slips up with it sometimes.

Eight on the nine.

Harry Bryce have any enemies?

No, no. Harry was a good boy.

Nobody could dislike Harry.

What about Vickers?

Oh, him you could dislike.

Who hit Vickers over the head?

I thought you'd get around to asking me that.

I don't know. And if I did know, I wouldn't tell you.

Like that?

Look, could have been anybody.

Could have been Harry, could have been Job Crandall.

Maybe even me.

On the other hand, he could have been taken by anybody for just the ordinary

thing, his watch, his money.

Then those silly ideas blew through that hole in his head.

I don't know.

But what I do know is I wish he didn't have Angie up there all alone.

Worried?

Yeah. Inspector Trehearne, just a minute.

Hello.

How'd that do, Johnson?

Got something else for you, Inspector.

A man's handkerchief.

Expensive one, too, with the initial V in one corner.

It's got streaks of what looked like rust on it and something else that looks

like blood.

Not bad, Johnson.

Rush it to the lab and tell them I want to report on it right away, but quick.

Something new?

Maybe. You never know.

What's the news, Brownie?

Nothing. Oh, some reporters came and went away mad.

But nobody's been inside the house or come out of it since the Merrill woman

and the servants left this morning. Okay, driver. Oh, it gets awful cold out

here at night, Inspector.

There's a chill comes up that just bites your... I'll see you get some long ones

sent out to you, Brownie. Okay.

Yeah, thanks.

Now, Mrs. Vickers, when was the last time you saw Harry Bryce?

About 10.30 or 11.

Then I lost him in the mob.

And about midnight you took the boat out?

I suppose it was about that time. I didn't know this, really.

And you saw your wife leave?

Yes, it was shortly after twelve when I saw the launch go out.

Did you know then it was your wife?

Yes, I'd seen her going aboard.

At that distance and at night?

I saw a woman in a light dress.

Even at that distance, a woman's skirts looked different from a man's trousers.

It was my wife's boat and my wife's habit to take it out.

Did you go directly from the cottage to the landing?

Yes, I did.

Yes.

Speaking.

It is.

Okay, I think that does it.

Goodbye.

Don't tell me I can feel it coming. You're about to make an arrest.

This is a funny kind of case, Mr. Vickers.

Only three things stand clear. You came back.

At one time, your wife was down on the landing and Harry Bryce was killed.

I'd like to tell you what happened that night, as I see it.

Mind if I smoke?

Not at all.

Four years ago, a man went on a cruise with three of his friends.

One night, one of those friends tried to murder him, but the job was bundled

because the man lived.

Now, he didn't tell anyone he was alive, which could only mean one thing.

He knew one of his friends had tried to kill him, and he didn't trust his wife.

The night he came back, he found his wife down by the boathouse with a friend

who had tried to kill him.

He waited until his wife had gone, then hit the friend very hard over the head

with a short iron bar.

He consigned the body and the bar to the water.

There was blood and the iron rust on his hands.

So he wiped them clean with his handkerchief, weighted it down with a

stone, and threw it after the body.

Then he went back to the house and played host for the rest of the night.

From the limited data at your disposal, you've concocted an excellent little

plot. It does have some rather interesting aspects.

In a documentary sort of style, it is.

That bit about the iron bar is based on fact, I suppose.

Yes, the murder weapon was found this morning.

The laboratory found particles of blood and hair on it. That's what the phone

call was.

And the handkerchief was a nice piece of follow-through.

On the old story, it doesn't have a leg to stand on.

Good sound deduction, all very logical.

But you know what a smart defense lawyer would do to you in court?

I know.

Except for one thing.

The handkerchief.

The what?

They found a handkerchief not far from the murder weapon.

It had stains on it.

Rust. The same that's on the bar, and blood, Harry Bryce's blood.

Are you trying to tell me you came here to arrest me?

Wait a minute.

I remember something about a handkerchief.

Did Harry Bryce have one when you found him?

No. Well, he asked me for one that night.

So I gave him one of Vick's. It was white, a very fine linen with a hand

-embroidered V in the corner. Is that the one you found?

Yes, Mrs. Vickers, I'm afraid it is.

Well, that helps a lot.

Because if a handkerchief came off the corpse, anybody could have taken it.

Including a woman who wouldn't have had one of her own handy.

I take it you're not going to arrest me, then?

I guess not.

Yet. And may I ask you to get out of my house?

You may.

But I'll be back.

Any time.

Any time at all, Inspector.

Thanks, but you shouldn't have told him that about the handkerchief.

Well, I had to, Vic. It was the truth.

It put ideas into his head.

Well, even if it did, and even if it put wrong ideas into yours, I couldn't just

sit there and watch him arrest you.

No, Angie.

Of course you couldn't.

You know very well that Vickers will discover your little game before he's

been back in the office five minutes.

That's why I'm going to tell him.

He'll give me a chance to pay it all back. Don't be a fool.

I've told you that for £1,000 I'll cover your tracks and keep my mouth shut.

It's cheap at the price.

Do you really expect me to believe that you'll be content with one payment?

I know your kind.

You just go on and on bleeding me.

You can't understand that I'd rather go to Vickers and make a clean breast of

it, can you? And if Vickers goes to the police?

I'll take a chance on that.

Now shut up and get out or I may be tempted to tell them what you're up to.

I'm afraid it's not as simple as that.

You seem to be forgetting something.

What? Angie.

You leave her out of it. It's not what you and she have been up to the past few

years, although I'm sure Vickers would be very interested.

It's what happened the night of the party.

What do you mean? I mean that if you go to Vickers, I go to the police.

I'm going to tell them that I saw you, the two of you, and that you had Harry

between you and were pushing him into the water.

I'm going to tell them that I saw you from the terrace.

I'm going to tell them that I saw you... Get out,

Session.

jargon sort of perspective here.

Where's Angie?

Somewhere about.

Is she alright, Vic?

I've got to see her.

I've got to see Angie.

Why?

If you've done anything to harm her, I...

I killed Sessions.

How did you kill him, Job?

Did you hit him over the head the way you hit me?

I hit him.

I didn't know I was going to. He said something.

I hit him.

I didn't hit you, Rick. I never hit anyone before.

What did he say?

I didn't go down to the boathouse.

He was lying. Why didn't you stop lying, Job?

You committed a murder. Why not tell the truth about me?

I didn't try to kill you, Vic.

And I don't know who did.

Oh, please let me see, Angie.

Hello, John.

You all right?

Of course.

Angie.

I killed a man.

John.

They can only hang me once.

So I'm going to say I killed Harry, too.

I want to do it, Angie.

Murder's wrong, but I know you didn't murder him.

Not the way they mean it.

I know you killed him because you had to.

I wanted you to know so you wouldn't try to save me.

But, Job, what makes you think I killed Harry?

Well, I saw you.

I saw you down on the landing.

I saw your hair and the light dress that you wore.

Harry was with you.

I saw him sort of crumple up.

You tried to catch him, but when you straightened up, Harry wasn't there

anymore. But you don't have to worry.

It's all right now.

I did not kill Harry Bryce. I was not the woman Jobs saw.

I wonder who he did see.

Oh, when will this ever be over, Vic? When can we ever go back to just being

people again?

Well, that rules our job.

He's willing to take on an extra murder. No reason to fight Shire, the one that

didn't come off.

I wonder when Bill will come.

Do you think he will come here?

He's in love with you, isn't he?

That alone will bring him.

Where's Angie?

She isn't here.

Where is she, then?

Joan's taken her somewhere.

Up in the valley, I believe.

What do you have?

Scotch.

Things were getting a little involved, emotionally.

Four years is a long time to be separated.

Thanks. Angie wanted some time to think.

When do you expect her back?

Whenever she's ready.

Traherne didn't mind her just vanishing?

Didn't seem to.

So you've been up here all alone, sulking and refusing to answer the

telephone.

Don't even call up any old pals. Come around and play canasta and lighten the

solitude.

I wasn't that lonely.

You know something, Vic?

I think you're lying.

Listen to me, Bill.

No man can prevent another from being in love with a woman or from trying to

steal her when he's not around.

But Angie happens to be my wife, and I'm getting fed up with the people accusing

me of having murdered her.

Or being just about to do so.

You've got a lot of nerve, Vic.

You resent being accused of murder.

But the other way around, it's okay.

You've accused me of murder.

You've accused Job.

And if Harry was still alive, you'd probably be accusing him.

But you're resentful.

Good old Bill.

You always were the only one with any guts.

Go on.

Oh, I'll go on.

But if you've done anything to Angie, I'll go on till I see you in hell.

I'm beginning to resent you, Vic.

Yes, I can believe that.

Apparently, you all resented me.

We had a right to.

Let me ask you, Vic.

Why did you want us hanging around?

You amused me.

That's your answer.

You didn't have to stay and take it.

Only there was Angie, wasn't there?

She had all the virtues that I lacked.

That's why you tried to murder me in Portugal.

Oh, so now you've made a definite choice.

It's me.

Get up.

Get up, for heaven's sake, and finish your drink.

What makes you think I'd try to kill you anyway, Vic?

You've always hated me, Bill.

You've always wanted Angie.

You're the only one I could ever imagine having enough guts to hit a man with

homicidal intent.

Even from the back.

Well, I might hit you, Vic, with homicidal intent, but never from the

back.

There's just one thing wrong with your logic.

One factor you've overlooked.

What's that?

You.

You got hit on the head, all right.

But the rest is all made up in your own mind.

You had it pretty rough for four years.

That's stamped all over you.

You wanted revenge.

We were the last people you remembered seeing.

So we were it.

But I heard a voice.

I said turn around because I've waited a long time for this.

It said I want to watch your face as you go down.

Now let me hear you say it, Bill.

Imagination, Vic.

Dreams. It spoke to me in English. It called me by name. It was no Portuguese

thief talking to me.

Let me hear you say it.

You're crazy.

It must have been your voice.

Let me hear you say it.

Vic, stop that.

Vic, stop it. You'll kill him. Vic.

Vic.

Thanks,

Angie.

He must be out of his mind.

But he said you were... No, I was waiting in there.

Oh, I see, Vic.

You don't care how you work a deal to try and convince people you're not

crazy.

Look, for your own sake, Angie, you better make him see a psychiatrist.

I think you'd better go, Bill.

Do you want to get out of here?

No.

Thanks. No, I'll call you.

What do you think, Angie? Is he right?

Could be. Maybe I did dream all this.

That would be ironic.

Catching Joan back here to get one confession and getting one from me

instead. I knew the whole thing was a lot of melodramatic nonsense.

Just like you, Philip. An ordinary accident couldn't happen to you, to

anybody else in the world, but not to Philip Vickers.

With you, it would have to be attempted murder with a lot of fancy trimmings.

You don't need a psychiatrist. You need a little sense.

Dickers, did you do this?

Certainly not.

Brownie, is this the man?

I told you I didn't see him.

Well, don't stand there like fools. Bring the man in.

Is there anything I can do? No, thanks. He's not badly hurt.

Who is he?

Don't you know?

No, I don't know.

He's one of my men, been watching the house.

I found him all tied up just now.

Would you mind telling us what you're doing here?

You're under arrest, Mrs. Vickers, for the murder of Harold Bryce.

You can't take her.

Crandall turned himself in.

We questioned him a little on his Bryce confession.

There were a few holes in his story, and he fell right through them.

After that, it was easy.

Were you going to let him take the rap for her?

You answer that yourself, Treherne.

All right, I'll withdraw that.

Thank you.

I was only hoping he'd keep you away from her long enough to find out the

truth.

This looks like a pretty good substitute.

It still isn't true.

Of course, the burden of proof rests with us, but this will do until

something better comes along.

Are you ready, Mrs. Vickers?

I guess so.

Will one of you get a coat, please? No, wait.

You don't want Mrs. Vickers. You want me.

I'm the woman Crandall saw with Harry Bryce.

The woman had black hair, Miss Merrill. I was wearing a black snood. I can show

it to you. Joan, it's no use. You weren't even down there until the next

morning. But I was. You were going to bed when I left, Joan. I was there, I

tell you. You've got to believe me. Look, Miss Merrill, I appreciate how you

feel, but I've had one phony confession tonight. That's enough.

There's nothing you can do now. Why don't you confess? Why don't you

confess? You know you killed him. Why don't you confess?

It's all right, darling. Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to you.

I didn't do it, Vic.

I know.

Let's get your coat and go along.

Not you, Vickers.

It'll work out, Angie. I promise you.

I'll be seeing you, Mr. Vickers.

Meryl, his return was a great shock to you.

No word, no warning.

All of a sudden, there he was.

So you went down to the cottage to try and warn Mrs. Vickers?

Yes.

I don't know how long it took me, but it seemed like hours.

I went the long way around because the shortcut is dark and lonely.

When I got there, I saw the light in the boat house.

I knew that Angie went down there a lot to get away from people she didn't like.

I hoped she'd be there alone.

As I passed the landing, I heard a strange sound in the darkness.

I stopped.

I saw the shape of a man lying in a heap beside the bench. He seemed to be hurt.

It was Harry.

I thought at first that he was drunk, that he'd fallen and hurt himself. I

asked him if he was all right.

Then I saw his face.

Suddenly, he just fell and went over the edge into the water.

A handkerchief had fallen out of Harry's pocket.

I picked it up.

Then I saw the bar.

I was beyond thinking, clearly. I picked it up and threw it as far as I could

into the water.

I waited the handkerchief and threw that in too.

All of a sudden, I became afraid.

Afraid of the murderer.

Next thing I knew, I was running.

And I got in the car.

Go and speak back to the house.

All right, Miss Merrill.

Try to calm down and try to relax.

You'll let Angie go now.

I'm sorry, Miss Merrill.

But it was Philip.

Why don't you arrest him? Philip killed Harry Bryce. You know he did.

What I may or may not know and what I can prove are two different things, Miss

Merrill. But you can't hold Angie now. You only have her because of what Job

said. And now you know it was me he saw. We only have your word for that. Oh,

just how stupid can you get?

It was Philip. He did it. Who else would have any reason for doing it?

You.

Me?

You hate Fickers enough to do anything if you knew it could destroy him.

You'll never stop believing that your father would be alive today if it hadn't

been for Philip Fickers.

Revenge is a strange thing, Miss Merrill.

It'll eat into a person's soul and rot away the insides until there's not one

shred of decency or speck of human feelings left.

You can send in Sergeant Evans now.

Right, sir.

We're holding you for further questioning, Miss Merrill. The only way

I can solve this case is by getting the truth out of all the people concerned,

which I've not been getting from any of them yet. But I'll get it.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do.

Sergeant Johnson.

Yes, sir.

Send for Philip Vickers for questioning.

Then come in here and start making noises like an assistant.

Right, sir.

Well?

We're right back where we started from.

Suspects fall in every time you open the door, but they slip through your fingers

like water.

It's all very sad.

You're getting paid for it, sir.

What happens now?

I'll do a little more questioning, then I'll let them go.

And then?

Somebody will get killed.

This thing isn't finished yet.

No matter who killed Harry Bryce, his death didn't solve anything.

It was just a curtain raiser. Now undress Mabel and get this stuff down to

the lab.

That house and everyone connected with it are going to be watched.

I'm going to make each one of them sweat, figuring out what they've got to

do.

And then they'll go ahead and do it.

They can't wait.

This isn't a murder for profit or convenience.

And it isn't cold-blooded. It's hot and it's violent.

And that kind of murder won't wait.

Do you mind turning a little the other way, sir?

Mabel here, she's the bashful type.

Oh.

Fine. Why don't they let you go? Joan and I came home about 2 o'clock.

How did Trehearne treat you?

He behaved admirably.

He now knows everything about me except how to prove I killed Harry.

I know he's convinced I did it.

What on earth is this?

My clothes.

Here's the inventory.

One man's suit glue, one pair of man's shoes, black and so on.

These things have been put to every test known to modern science and found pure.

No blood.

Trehearne was terribly disappointed.

I know I shall never want to wear my things again. Let's have a drink.

Definitely.

Unless you want anything, Angie, I think I'll go upstairs.

I'll put these things in your room for you, Philip. Don't bother. I'll take

them up when I go.

No bother.

Joan. Yes, Philip?

Thanks for getting Angie out of that.

There's nothing to thank me for.

I know.

I was only trying to be civil.

That's not a sweater she's knitting, it's a noose.

She and her hair are going to fasten it on me together and tie it with a true

lover's knot.

She's been down there since early morning trying to talk me right into

death row. Poor Joan, she's only trying to help me.

Be patient a little longer, darling. I'll talk to her and try to straighten

her out.

And if she won't straighten? Then of course she'll have to go.

Did you invite him to dinner?

Yes, I did.

But I really don't understand.

He was lying last night or I'm off my head.

He came here to do something and then changed his mind. He played the whole

thing off against me.

So now I'm suspected of lunacy and he's got you and Joan as witnesses.

But Vic, how does it help to have him here again?

He's tried twice to kill me and he'll try again.

This time I want to bring him out into the open.

I want him here where I can keep an eye on him.

Don't break.

I suppose you realize the grounds are crawling with cops.

Doesn't surprise me.

Just like old times. I've forgotten what it was like to have a shadow.

You too, Bill?

Sure.

I don't know about you two characters, but I feel like a nightcap. How about

it? You've both had a pretty hard day. You deserve one.

It's a wonderful idea.

I'll get the ice, pour the drinks. I'll even come back and help you drink them.

I can't stand this much longer, Vic.

Neither can I.

It was up to him to make the first move.

I hope it's soon. I don't want to spend the rest of my life playing three-handed

gin rummy.

I thought you'd gone to bed.

Bill, I put a package in your car. Will you leave here? Take it straight to

Traherne. There's a note inside explaining the whole thing to him.

Wait a minute. Just give me that once more. A bit slower.

Listen, I find evidence proving that Philip killed Harry.

It's in your car.

I can't leave it here because I can't leave Angie alone with him. You've got

to take it to the police.

Do you understand?

Sure.

Sure, I understand.

What'll it be, over the rocks?

Over the rocks.

Well, happy night, Cap.

Been a pleasant dream.

So long, Vic. Good night, Angie.

You killed her.

You killed her!

You killed her, you killed her, you killed her!

You're mad.

It was right.

The man.

The man. Let me go!

You were expecting me, Bill.

I've been expecting you ever since you came back.

Move over there, Vic.

I want to call the police.

No need to do that, Bill.

They'll be here soon enough.

They want me for murder.

Murder?

It's all rather hazy.

I woke up with a poker in my hand and Joan was dead.

And you killed Joan?

No, Bill.

You killed Joan.

I killed Angie.

Angie?

Oh, you're lying, Vic.

Why would you want to kill her?

I had a splitting headache and she screamed at me. It hurt my head.

Then she said you were right, Bill, that I was obviously quite mad.

And so?

I still had the poker in my hand. I suppose I did it to stop her screaming

as much as anything.

She really shouldn't have said I was mad.

You're lying, Vic.

You can't needle me that way.

Why should I lie, Bill?

I've nothing to lose.

The way you've worked it out, I haven't a hope.

But use the phone. Check up.

When you're finished, get me a drink, will you?

I feel rotten.

You did that for me, Bill.

Four years of hard labor, you get strong doing that.

Now get up.

Get up!

Did you kill Angie, Vic?

Did you kill her? No, I didn't kill her. She's safe.

But she thinks I killed Joan. I can't expect her to think anything else.

The one thing I can do is stop you taking what you want after I'm out of

the way.

No, I'm not going to kill you, Bill.

You're far too important to me for that.

But I'm going to try to make you talk.

Four years ago, I could have taken you, I think.

I could have given you height and weight, and I could still take you on.

Because your guts were nothing but stuffed feathers.

Now I don't know.

You went down easy enough in Portugal. I was doped.

You're dope now. I know, but I can still see.

Are you quite sure about that, Doc?

There's no possible doubt.

Mrs. Vickers, you'd better come with us.

Come on, Johnson. We really have got our killer this time.

You killed Harry?

Yeah. You killed Joan?

Yes. Will you tell the police?

You wanted my wife.

She needed a man, not a stuffed shirt.

Yeah, I wanted her.

But I couldn't have her while you were still alive.

And you killed Harry.

He was around her too much.

I got down to the boathouse. He was all alone.

There was no way you could prove it wasn't you.

And Joan?

I could fill that in myself.

to go to all this trouble, Vickers.

What do you mean?

Saul's a very smart boy.

He painted a beautiful picture.

He knocked out Miss Merrill in the kitchen, then went back into the lounge

and drugged her drinks.

After he had passed out, he dragged in Miss Merrill, hit her over the head,

then set the stage.

Only one detail was wrong.

Miss Merrill was already dead.

She was under great tension, and the shock of being knocked out stopped her

heart. The medical examiner can prove that she was dead before the time of

Saul's departure and over one hour before you were supposed to have killed

her. You mean that... That's right, Mrs. Vickers.

We came here to arrest Saul.

I'm disappointed.

Yes, and your pride is touched.

To the quick.

I had such a beautiful case against you.

Circumstantial evidence.

Not with your visual testimony, Mrs. Vickers.

Hey, now, do you blame her? She wakes out of a drug sleep and sees me.

Darling, we're interrupting Mr. Trehearne. It's his story. Let him tell

it. Thank you.

When Miss Merrill doctored a pair of your shoes, it gave Saul just the chance

he'd been waiting for.

What could be more convincing than that you discover Miss Merrill had sent

incriminating evidence to the police.

You fly into a rage and you kill her.

There was the motive, the weapon, the fingerprints, and the body.

What more would the police need to convict a man for murder?

Not much.

You'll have to stick around while the usual legal machinery grinds its mess

through the mill.

I take it you weren't planning another sea trip just yet? Not just yet.

Well, thanks for the ride, Gerhard.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

Goodbye.