Original subtitles

Oh!

Thank you.

That was a scream.

You're not leaving me here, are you? We'd better look into this, Elsie. I'm

afraid we don't want any trouble, Morton. Yeah, well, we'd better see if

we can help the girl, whoever she is.

Oh, God.

What are you doing?

Well, nothing, officer.

We were over there and... Are you all right, miss?

I heard a scream. It wasn't her, officer. Yeah, of course I am.

It came from over there. We were about to look into it.

You'd better come along with me, then.

Norma who?

Norma who? Look, what was the woman's surname?

Brent.

Norma Brent.

Why did you murder Opechowski?

Murder? I didn't murder Norma.

Well, you were found by this officer kneeling over Norma Brent's body,

holding both ends of the cord which strangled her.

There are two witnesses who'll testify to this.

Now, who was Norma Brent?

Why did you kill her?

Lewis? Lewis, are you there?

Lewis, wake up.

It's your wife.

What are these for?

Forever. The flat, the car, the liquor cabinet.

The story of our marriage summed up by three pieces of metal.

Where did that bruise come from?

A collision between your fist and my face. And it's the last time you'll do

that, Lewis.

Oh, my God, last night. I'm so sorry.

Three nights ago, and your feelings no longer interest me.

Three? Three.

I've been hunting you down for two days.

Here you are at last.

I've instructed Mr. Hemming to start divorce proceedings.

And I've moved in with my sister.

Look, Alicia, if only you could listen to me.

Don't beg my forgiveness.

Don't ask me to come back to you. And please don't promise to turn over a new

leaf. I didn't mean to hit you, Alicia. Honestly, I didn't mean it. The perfect

epitaph for you. I didn't mean it.

I hate clichés.

But I have given you the best ten years of my life.

I want the rest for myself.

Alicia.

Alicia, am I expected to come running after you?

Please don't. I can no longer stand the sight of you groveling.

Preston here.

Oh, that's all right, Inspector.

My wife has found me. Now she's out getting herself lost.

Oh, I'm sorry. I thought... Vyshelsky. Now, wait a minute. Vyshelsky,

Vyshelsky, Vyshelsky, Vyshelsky.

Oh, yes, yes, I remember. John Vyshelsky. Yes, I defended him rather

successfully once on an assault charge.

He was charged this morning with the murder of Norma Brett.

I'd have charged him last night when he was too drunk.

The arresting officer and the two witnesses swear they saw him murder the

woman. Well, they found him kneeling by the body, holding both ends of the cord.

Is there ever some water about?

Are you feeling faint?

No, thirsty.

Wachowski and the woman were living together.

According to the neighbours, the local publicans, several others, he was given

to frequent drunken rages.

There were violent arguments, and he beat her often.

Thank you.

Now then, they shared, among other things, a cottage in Hampstead just off

the Heath.

Well, it's little more than a two-room shack, Mr. Preston. It's best described

as a hovel. But Chelsky collects and sells junk.

A very meagre trade at best.

In the backyard, we found a lot of old draperies and curtains.

And some curtain cords.

Exactly the same as the ones used to kill Norma Brent.

You're building up quite a case against my client.

Appears to be building himself.

Who was Norma Brent?

She's a former showgirl, quite some time ago.

Must have been very beautiful.

Beautiful hardly describes her appearance last night, Mr Preston.

Inspector Murray, have we met before?

Not that I recall.

And yet you find me offensive.

Only by reputation.

When I defended Vyshelsky about five years ago, I think he was living with a

young girl then.

Well, Norma Prank could scarcely be called a young woman.

Well, perhaps she was a sort of mum to him.

Look, I'm a police inspector, Mr Preston.

Not a psychologist.

Thank you.

Damn things never work in this office.

Well, then you wouldn't know if mum's the word.

Would you like to see Wachowski now?

Yes. Yes, I would. Thank you.

What bloody difference does it make if this room is suitable or not?

It's your help I need.

Mr Preston, I'll get you a fee together somehow.

You might pay me off in old drapery courts.

I didn't kill Norma.

On my mother's honor.

Let's not look too closely at your mother's honor and begin with last

night.

Now then, it's agreed that you've been drinking heavily.

I had a few.

Then Norma came home with a bottle of gin.

She'd been drinking as well, but she wouldn't say where.

Wouldn't say where she got the bottle of gin either.

Well, that made you angry and you struck her.

No, not then.

Later. Why?

Well... I accused her of going out with Amos Colfax.

She taunted me, said I was... Who's Amos Colfax?

Oldest bloke that lives in the high street.

Profession?

Certified public accountant.

Works in the town hall.

Part-time job.

Sorting census forms, things like that.

Sounds quite industrious.

He's a pig.

They got out skylarking while I was trying to scrounge up enough for

tomorrow's meal.

Did Norma admit she'd been out with Colfax?

He never said.

She just told me she was planning to pull out.

And go where?

Resume her theatrical career.

Poor old thing.

Every day she'd look herself in the mirror and she'd see herself as she was

25 years ago.

Not that she was so bad.

I mean, when I took up with her four years ago, she had her way with her.

Most people didn't understand us, Norma and me.

But if you'd known her like I knew her, then you'd understand what it's all

about.

I'd prefer to know what last night is all about.

He started this row about her pulling out.

When she sees me getting angry, she applies the salve.

You know what I mean.

She says I'm not to worry, as now she'll be my lady Bountiful.

Then she insists we drink a toast to her big comeback.

Then I ask her where's the money coming from? You know, for her clothes and

everything.

She says, I'm coming into my inheritance.

Inheritance, I laugh.

What inheritance?

She winks, does a little dance around the table and says, me to know and you

to find out.

But it's a lot of money, more than you and me has ever seen.

So I accuse her of planning to run off with Kovacs. And she says, he's more of

a man than you are. And what's more, he smells better. Hit her for that.

She starts screaming and throws something. I forget what it was, but it

didn't get me.

She's cursing and telling me how much more of a man Colfax is, even if I'm

younger. I was blazing angry. I grabbed her. She hit me and ran out of the

house. I went after her, but I fell over something.

A chair, I think it was.

I must have knocked myself out because I don't remember anything.

And then when I came to, I went outside to look for Norma.

But there wasn't a sign of her.

I ran towards the heath.

thinking she must have gone out there to hide.

I got to the heath, I heard her screaming.

I yelled, Norma, Norma!

Then she screamed again.

And then it was cut off, sort of sharp, like she was choking or something.

All I remember is finding her and kneeling beside her and untying the

thing around her neck.

How much time would you say elapsed between her screams and your finding her

body? I'm not sure.

Five, ten minutes. It had to be something like that.

Is what you've told me approximate to the same statement you gave to the

police? Yes, Mr. Preston.

How long had Norma and Colfax known each other?

Did I know of three or four months?

Do you think they've been having an affair?

What else could I think?

The way she compared us.

Where's his office?

Mr. Kelfax?

My name is Louis Preston. I'm a solicitor. I represent John Wyschelski.

I've already been interviewed by the police.

Well, may I join you? This won't take very long.

Another half, please.

I suppose you're convinced Wyschelski is guilty?

Is there anyone who isn't?

Wyschelski? Look, I said this wouldn't take very long, and so I'll come

straight to the point.

Mr. Koufax, John Wyschelski insists that you and Norma Brent were lovers.

We were.

I didn't expect you to admit that quite so readily.

Why not?

She tried on several occasions to break away from Wyschelski, but he kept on

threatening her life.

Did he ever threaten her in your presence?

Not only did he threaten Norma, Mr. Preston, but he threatened me.

That's why she decided to stick to Wyschelski until her inheritance came

through.

Then we planned to go away together.

Have you any idea as to the nature of this so-called inheritance?

Are you insinuating that this was a figment of Norma's imagination?

The police can find no trace of any relatives, and with Norma's death, the

Brent line ended.

Now, doesn't it seem strange to you that Norma never mentioned the origin of this

inheritance? No.

Nor would you, Mr Preston, if you'd heard her talk of it in the way I did.

No one could believe as deeply as Norma did in something that was non-existent.

Wasn't she given to fantasies about a great many things?

I'm talking of lucid moments with Norma, Mr Preston.

In my company, she had no need.

You're obviously a man of intelligence, Mr Colfax, an accountant. Your service

is employed at the town hall.

Were you never curious as to where the money might come from?

Norma would never say.

Norma would never say.

Well, that does it for me.

By the way, how's business?

Um, holding steady?

Should I have offered to buy your drink?

I'm always curious about other people's affairs, Mr. Koufax.

Well, it has its ups and downs like any other business.

And for the downs, Norma's inheritance would have been helpful?

We were going to be married, Mr. Preston.

Anyway, I have other sources for getting the finance I need.

Very convincing performance.

And she was already dead when you came up on Vyshelski, kneeling beside her.

That's right, sir.

Yeah.

Mr Bray, was he holding the cord as loosely as you are now?

As well as I can remember, sir. It was a bit of a shock at the time.

This is about the way he was holding it, wasn't he, Elsie? Looks about right to

me. He kept saying, Norma, Norma, over and over.

Well, that gives us a pretty clear picture. Thank you very much.

Vyshelski and Norma Brent have been on first-name terms for quite some time,

you know.

Yeah, I was aware of that.

We'd better get a move on, Morton. We're being interviewed on television tonight.

All right, thank you, love.

Well, now, could you direct me to that hovel Michelski and Miss Brent shared?

I'll take you there myself, if you like.

Norma Brent was a very poor housekeeper.

We've been over the place with a fine tooth comb, you know.

Yes, so I gathered, but I thought I'd better come and have a look for myself.

For my client's sake, of course.

I suppose the reporters have already helped themselves to these photographs?

No, there's been a 24-hour guard on the place. Oh, well, then perhaps I could

have this one for my investigations.

Well, Miss Norma Brent was certainly well acquainted with the celebrities of

her time.

Look, here's one with Gypsy Rose Lee.

And one with Jack Buchanan.

And one with Jackson Delacorte.

To my darling Norma with all my love, Jackson.

Whatever became of him?

Jackson Delacorte's very much alive.

That was quite a look of affection he had on his face in that photo with

Norma. Oddly enough, something came in about him this morning.

What, in connection with this case?

It's a complaint filed by Miss Melanie Anderson on behalf of her uncle, Jackson

Delacorte.

Somebody's been signing bills, passing dud checks in clubs and restaurants

using Delacorte's name.

Now, why should anyone want to masquerade as a man who's been out of

the public eye for, oh, what's your guess, 20 years?

Oh, it's more, isn't it?

Delacorte's last appearance in the West End must have been before the war. Some

sort of accident made him retire.

Do you by any chance know whether he's kept in touch with Norma since his

retirement? No, Delacorte's unavailable for questioning. He's ill.

According to whom?

According to Miss Anderson, a quite formidable young lady.

You might want to speak to her.

Yeah, this is where she lives

Miss Melanie Anderson?

Well.

Oh, very friendly.

I'm Louis Preston. Could I see Mr. Jackson Delacombe, please?

My uncle is indisposed, Mr. Preston.

Oh, but if you could just spare me a few minutes.

He can't see anyone.

Just a moment.

Here is my card. If you perhaps could let me know when he's well enough to

grant me an audience.

It's about this matter concerning Norma Brent. I'm sure you've seen the

newspapers and I...

She kept in touch with Delacorte. She never told me.

Norma obviously told you very little.

Here, you better finish this. I believe the food's terrible here.

Who were Norma's friends, besides yourself and the industrious Mr. Colfax?

Any women?

You used to see Nell Pretty every so often. Nell Pretty?

Both was May Pretty.

May Pretty and Norma Brent used to be in a lot of shows together.

They were great friends once.

May Pretty.

Now, when did she die?

Oh, years ago, when Nell was just a baby.

May was in a car crash, killed.

How do I get in touch with Nell Pretty?

She runs a Soho club, one of those French places where they play records.

Discotheque. Huh?

Discotheque.

What's the name of it?

It's a pretty place.

Excuse me? Yes, dear?

Which one is Nell Pretty?

The one over there in the pearly dress.

Thank you.

Pretty, I'm Louis Preston. Does it hurt?

Very funny.

I'm a solicitor.

Michael. Michael, this is Mr. Preston. He's a solicitor.

A criminal lawyer, dear. You know trial by jury.

You've been through that.

But I was framed. Yes, dear, framed. But never harmed.

Mr. Preston, Michael Oates. Oh, how do you do? How do you do?

Michael drives an E-type and he's a model.

Not sure what all, but he's a model.

Would you like a drink?

Oh, yes, thank you. Whiskey and water.

What are you going to have?

I've only just told you a whiskey and water.

Michael, don't be tiresome. Go and get Mr. Preston his drink like a good boy.

Well, I want one too.

Oh, have one.

Oh, yes.

Now, come along, Mr. Preston. Sit down and tell me all your troubles.

I represent Mr. John Wyschelski.

Who's he?

Do you ever read the papers?

Not often.

Now, who is Mr. John Wyschelski?

Well, he's the man the police think may have murdered Norma Brennan.

Your drink.

Michael, do you think you could find something or someone to play with for

ten minutes? I've business to discuss with Mr.

Preston. Oh.

Well, I suppose I could go to the bar. Lovely. The bar's over there with the

bartender behind it. I'll run along with a good boy.

Now, why should that man want to murder poor Norma?

I don't think he did.

Well, of course you don't. You're defending him.

Poor old Norma. She was like a second mum to me.

Did you ever... Have you ever seen my mother on the stage, Mr Preston?

I don't think I'm getting through to you.

Oh, when did you last see Norma?

Oh, I ran into her a few weeks ago at the Edwardian Club.

But that's a gambling club, isn't it?

People do gamble in this wicked world.

She was playing chemise.

I did give her what for, I can tell you.

You see, every so often I was doling out small sums of money to her just to sort

of help her along. She was a friend of my mother's.

And I didn't really fancy her, you know, wasting it at the shamey table.

You've got lovely eyes from her.

Oh, thank you.

Who was Norma with?

Oh, yes.

Rather a handsome gent.

White hair.

Fifty-ish, I should say.

Was his name by any chance Amos Perlpe?

Well, Norma didn't introduce us.

She was that flustered of running into me then.

But you did tell me she'd be paying me back every penny I'd ever lent her.

Out of her inheritance?

How did you know that?

I'm a practising clairvoyant.

Oh, witty with it.

Now tell me, who will that money go to now that she's dead?

The widows and orphans, I should think.

Well, I'm an orphan.

I know.

It's very sad.

I might need your help again, Miss Pretty.

Mel.

Mel.

Am I free to call on you?

I'm always available.

Yeah, that's her.

She looks a bit older now.

I thought she seemed familiar when I saw the papers.

She was with that bloke who was passing himself off as Jackson Delacorte.

Delacorte? Yeah. Ah, yes, now that's it.

Well, now, what did this bloke look like? Can you remember?

Oh, can I?

He's tattooed on my memory.

He included my tip in his dud check.

I can say goodbye to that forever.

Yes, let's see now. He's tall, white-haired, early 50s, I reckon.

Distinguished sort of bloke.

Good-looking?

Yeah, not bad for his age. Do you know him?

I rather think I do.

Well, you better inform Scotland Yard, didn't you?

Amos Colfax. Oh, you know already.

And here was I thinking I was way ahead of the police.

Well, you're not.

The Colfax is. I issued a warrant for his arrest, but he's disappeared.

Well, I assume you've got a call out for him.

Yes, yes, we have. Let's just hope he answers.

Incidentally, your client's found himself a benefactor to the tune of 500

pounds. Cash?

Came this morning with an unsigned note.

A contribution to Mr. Wachowski's defense.

Sorry, what did you say?

I said, did you know that Norma was once a great friend of Jackson Delacorte's?

Of course. Oh, silly, she met him through my mother.

Didn't you know my mother was once married to Jackson Delacorte?

Delacorte's your father, then?

No, my father was a chorus boy.

When Mum told him I was on the way, he disappeared.

Charlie.

After I was born, she met Delacorte at some party or another.

They had a whirlwind courtship, and they got married.

From what I can gather, just about a year after they promised to love, honour

and obey, Jackson disobeyed and dishonoured, went off with another

woman. Who was the woman? No idea.

Did your mother... Did your mother and Delacorte ever get a divorce?

No, never.

They were planning to, but the accident at Brighton settled things too hard.

Whatever was he doing in Brighton?

He was living there.

Mum's new show went to Brighton before going to the West End. You know how they

do.

Delacorte went to the theatre to discuss the divorce with her.

So she went for a drive with him so they could talk in private.

That's when the accident happened.

What accident?

The accident in which my mother was killed and Delacorte badly injured.

Look, could you stop at the next telephone box?

Pardon, darling?

No, darling.

I'd like to send a telegram.

Who to?

Mr. Jackson, Delacorte.

Yes, come in, Mr. Preston.

If you'd like to wait here, Mr. Preston, I'll tell my uncle you're here.

Mr.

Preston, my uncle will see you now.

Good afternoon, Mr. Preston. It was very good of you to see me, sir. I couldn't

resist your telegram. It was so rich in melodrama. Your assistance urgently

needed in John Wachowski's defense.

Eliza crossing the ice with the bloodhounds nipping at her rear.

I was so disappointed when it was signed merely Louis Preston. I rather fancied

it deserved a signature like Hercule Poirot or perhaps Mrs.

Dale.

Forgive me, I've been...

Suffering from the bad cold, I'm afraid. That's why my niece turned your way

yesterday.

Well, what can I do for you?

Do you think John Wachowski is innocent?

I'm not sure if he is, Mr. Preston, but from the newspaper accounts, I felt he

deserved a decent defense.

How well did you know Norma Brent?

Dear foolish Norma, we met many years ago.

Had you any occasion to see her recently?

I see no one, Mr. Preston. I rarely receive visitors. I never leave this

house. I'm a complete recluse.

I have only Melanie to lighten my darkness.

Would you like some tea in the garden?

Thank you.

Mr. Delacorte, are you familiar with the name Amos Colfax?

Should I be?

He was a friend of Norma's.

I thought you'd enjoy having tea in the garden.

What a lovely garden you have here.

Thank you so much.

Oh, Melanie.

Yes, Father?

Isn't Carl Fax the man the police suspect having impersonated me?

Yes. I believe he played a charade in Norma's company. She probably put him up

to it.

I'm sure it was all a game to Norma.

She took a childish delight in games.

Won't you please sit down, Mr. Preston?

Thank you.

Now, Mr. Preston, is there anything else?

I've seen an old photo of you and Norma. It gave me the impression that you and

she were more than just good friends.

Now, why would an old photo cause that assumption?

It was the inscription.

To my darling Norma, with all my love, Jackson.

Me in love with Norma?

Really, Mr. Preston, I've written that on many photographs.

Wasn't it rather convenient that May Pretty was killed on the very day you

went to discuss the divorce?

And wasn't it also rather a coincidence that you were with her when it happened?

You're a hard man, Mr. Preston. That day is always on my mind. It haunts me and

will do until the day I die. I'm sorry, Mr. Delacorte, but on the face of it...

Oh, I know what you're thinking, but should you care to examine the police

records at the time, you will see that they were quite satisfied it was an

accident.

Thank you.

I understand from Nell, your stepdaughter, that you deserted her

mother to some other woman soon after your marriage.

Mr. Preston, I'm quite prepared to answer questions that may help your

client, but not questions which concern my private life.

Norma told several friends that she was expecting an inheritance.

You know anything about that? I know nothing of the intimate details of

Norma's life. As I said before, I hadn't been in touch with her for years.

Really, Mr.

Preston, your questions are extremely trying. But, Mr. Delacorte... My uncle

is extremely tired.

I'm sorry, but the interview is closed. But... I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'll have

to ask you to leave.

Good afternoon.

Thank you, sir.

Don't worry, I'll let myself out.

Did you forget something?

Yes, I forgot to say goodbye to you.

Goodbye?

You say goodbye as if you were about to burst into song.

I told you not to see him. There are some things, Melanie, that are

unavoidable.

Norma was never married.

Then forgive this next question.

Did she have a child?

Well, did she?

She may have.

Much as she liked to talk about the past, especially when she was drunk,

there were certain periods in her life she wouldn't discuss.

Such as the time when May Pretty was killed.

She never discussed that.

Even when she was drunk.

Yes?

Mr. Preston, Inspector Murray would like to see you as soon as possible.

They found Agnes Colfax.

It's been a nightmare to me, Inspector.

Norma put me up to masquerading as Jackson Delacorte.

She said we could have a jolly good time together at his expense.

Didn't you consider the risk?

Of course I did. But Norma said, don't you worry your head about that.

If they try bringing charges against us, Jackie Boyle will see that they're

dropped quick as that.

She must have had an awfully good reason to be that sure of herself.

Why did you run away?

Why didn't you come to me with this explanation?

With Norma dead?

What assurance had I now that Delacorte wouldn't prosecute?

Well, I've spoken to Delacorte's niece.

Her uncle won't press the charges as long as you promise to refund the money.

Dear God. But it still remains a criminal offence.

However, I'll take the matter up with my superiors. In the meantime, you're free

to go. But if you run away again, sir, you'll be caught and prosecuted.

I won't run away, Inspector.

I'll refund the money.

There are one or two things I'd like to ask Mr. Colfax, Inspector, on behalf of

my client.

Do you have any objections?

Well, don't take all day about it, will you?

Do you know of anyone other than Vyshelsky ever threatening Norma's life?

No one.

Yourself, perhaps?

I was in love with Norma.

I see.

Did she promise you money for signing those cheques?

Did she ever promise you money, Mr. Colfax?

Yes, yes, she promised me money.

Mr. Colfax has already explained that his accounting business had its ups and

downs. The downs obviously outweighed the ups.

And when you'd served your purpose, she told you to get out.

No, she never did that.

We were in love with each other. We were going to be married.

Your what against whose?

Norma's?

They could have quarreled.

He could have followed her home and waited for his moment. I didn't kill

Norma. I didn't say you did.

All I said was you could have waited for your moment.

Good day, gentlemen.

I'm sorry, Michael, darling. You'll just have to take a cold shower.

That was Michael, darling.

How would you like an excursion to Brighton tomorrow?

Brighton? Whatever for?

I've got to ferret out some information.

What sort of information?

Now, don't you be a nosy little girl.

Do you want to come or not?

I haven't been there for years.

It doesn't hold many happy memories, knowing my mother was killed there.

I'm sorry, Nell. I should have thought of that.

But I'd be very happy if you would come with me.

Sometimes you can be really rather nice.

Do we go by train, or shall I drive?

Oh, my God. There's all that to face again, isn't there?

I've never had an accident in my life. That's the first time for everything.

There's where it happened.

And Jackson Delacorte survived?

He was thrown from the car before it fell over the cliff and crashed onto the

rocks here.

My mother's body was still behind the wheel when they recovered the car.

I'm beginning to feel rather morbid. Let's go.

Strange. I find it rather peaceful here.

My mother found very little happiness during her lifetime.

Baby.

Female.

Surname?

Delacorte.

Christian name?

Melanie.

Mother's maiden name?

Brent.

Melanie. Melanie.

It has a nice lilt to it, don't you think?

It's lovely.

Don't you think so, Nell?

You can't be serious.

I've told you before, don't be a nosy girl.

Do you mind if I'm a nosy girl?

In my eyes, madam, you can do no wrong.

I must ask you for the mother's Christian name.

Norma.

Norma Brent.

Oh, the poor creature murdered on Hampstead Heath.

Are you an investigator?

I'm the solicitor for the defense.

Father's name?

Jackson Delacorte.

Look,

I've told you before, I'm a practicing clairvoyant.

Next question.

My aunt in Weymouth always said she was a clairvoyant.

Really? Yes.

Can you tell us the year of the baby's birth?

I need a little more practice.

When was your mother killed, Nell?

1939.

1939?

That long ago.

Oh, dear, that is a challenge.

But I do love a challenge.

Wait one moment and I'll plunge right into the files.

Do you think she's been challenged often?

Lewis, have you gone nuts? Dad never got a divorce from my mother.

But he wanted to.

Agreed, but he didn't. So how could he and Norman... Clairvoyance.

Well, that's a fairly good piece of detective work, Mr Preston.

You think, Miss Pitts?

Miss Pitts?

Lady at the Brighton Registry Office.

She loves a challenge and has a clairvoyant aunt in Weymouth.

Don't you think there's a visit we should make together?

Good idea.

Send a car round, would you?

Hello? Hello?

Oh, give me a good old Victorian police station every time.

Send a car round, will you?

Good morning.

I'm Detective Inspector Murray.

Can I have a word with Mr. Delacour, please?

He can't see anyone. He's not well.

Yeah, well, it is rather urgent, I'm afraid.

He should have rung in advance.

Would you rather I obtained a warrant?

Melanie!

Let the man in.

Well, how would you do, Miss Anderson?

Come this way, please.

Inspector Mine. And Mr. Preston. Please sit down, gentlemen.

I apologise for intruding. I loathe polite trivialities, Inspector.

Get on with it.

I wonder if you'd just examine this document, sir. May I? Melanie, give it

to me.

Would you please leave us, my dear? I'd like to talk to these gentlemen in

private.

Inspector, I can only assume that you consider this document has some bearing

on Norma Brent's murder.

Indirectly, yes, we believe it has.

Mr. Preston has a theory based on some information he's gathered, which I agree

might be quite logical.

What is your theory, Mr. Preston?

Well, first of all, you are Melanie's father.

That certificate proves it.

Does she know that Norma Brent was her mother?

Damn you, no!

Melanie only knows that she was orphaned as an infant and came to live here

because of my friendship for her dead parents, and that is all she must ever

know. Yes.

Yes, of course.

Mr. Delacorte, forgive the impertinence, but was Melanie born when you were

married to May Pretty?

I had a brief affair with Norma, much as you may well gather to my regret.

When Norma told me she was pregnant, I was practical enough to suggest she do

something about it. But Norma was far more practical than I.

She intended to have the baby, and the baby was to have my name. If not, she

threatened a scandal that would have ruined my career.

Surely no one would have taken it that seriously.

Mr Preston, in those days, not so long ago really, people were far more

sensitive to that sort of thing than they are now.

In those days, I was the romantic idol of the West End Theatre.

She could have ruined me.

So? So, to solve a hopeless situation, I entered into a form of marriage with

poor Norma.

That was bigamy.

Correct.

I was a fool, Mr Preston.

Norma knew that she'd forced me to commit bigamy, and her hold on me was

complete.

I'd hoped to resolve the whole thing by going to May, my wife, and begging her

to divorce me.

I told her the whole story. There was quite a scene.

To calm May down, I agreed to take this drive with her. I think she had every

intention of killing us both.

Fortunately, perhaps unfortunately, I survived.

Father, don't tell them anymore.

Oh, Melanie, my dear, I never wanted you to know all this. Father, I knew. I knew

all the time.

Why do you have to come and wreck our lives like this? Quiet, quiet, my

lovely. I must tell them the whole story.

They'd find it all out in the end anyway.

I was still in hospital when Melanie was born. Norma came to see me demanding

money. She threatened to expose my bigamous marriage to the papers, which

would have made the accident of May's death look very different to the police.

I told her to go to hell. I said I'd arrange for Melanie's support and that

would be the end of it.

Dear sweet Norma had a counter-proposal. She made an offer to go to Australia.

Rather large sum of money, she would give up all claim to Melanie.

And you accepted this?

Yes, my dear.

I paid Norma. She went to Australia.

I looked after you.

We moved to the country, and thanks to the war, we were completely forgotten.

We basked in anonymity until she came back to England.

She would never have found us if it hadn't been for that damn Colfax working

at the town hall and coming across our census forms.

And so the web began to tighten.

Norma wrote asking for assistance.

That quite unnerved me. Yes, I knew what was happening, and I so wanted to help

you. Miss Delacorte.

If you knew your real identity, why didn't you tell your father?

I couldn't. He'd been hurt enough.

I knew that he wished to keep all this from me, and I respected his wishes.

How did you find out who you really were?

I was turning out some old papers once.

Melanie.

Yes, I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have read them.

I was about 15 at the time, and it all seemed very romantic to carry on with

the pretense.

The longer I kept it up, the more impossible it was to tell you.

Thank you, my darling.

It would have been a great shock, had I known.

Mr. Delacour, will you please tell us what happened between you and Norma

Brent? What happened between Norma and me?

It's very sordid.

She started to threaten again.

But today... Oh, I know, Mr. Prescott.

Today, nobody would have cared about my past.

But I would have cared, sir.

I'm a proud man.

I wanted the public to remember me as I was.

Why else have I hidden myself away?

I don't want people who once saw me playing love scenes with some of the

most beautiful actresses in London to see me like this.

I was once considered the handsomest man on the stage.

I would have done anything rather than let the world know what had happened to

me. Or to let them know that Jackson Jellicoe had been forced to commit

bigamy by a scheming slut.

Before her death, Norma Brent spoke of an inheritance she expected.

Inheritance.

Extortion is the word for it.

She demanded a flat sum of 50,000 pounds.

Where did you pay her?

August, the police.

There was another problem.

Nell, my stepdaughter, Nell Pretty.

What about her?

Well, Inspector, Norman became very friendly with her.

She threatened to tell Nell how I deceived her mother.

Would that have mattered?

Yes, it would.

Pride again, you see.

I didn't want her to know.

I see.

Mr. Delacorte, why did you persist in concealing Melanie's identity from her?

In case there was a scandal, I wanted her to know as little as possible.

Somehow I would have protected her.

A scandal may have upset your daughter.

But John Wyschelski faces a possible death sentence for a crime he did not

commit.

I don't see the connection, Mr Preston.

There undoubtedly is one, Mr Delacorte. A contribution of 500 pounds towards

Wyschelski's defence.

I sent it.

I wanted to try and help as much as I could.

I didn't want you to come here bothering my father.

I thought if I sent the money it would...

Mr. Delacorte, I think I'd better tell you that Mr. Preston has asked that

subpoenas to appear at the trial be presented to you and your daughter. You

can't do that. My father must not appear in public. He must be remembered as he

was. Yeah, I'm afraid that's impossible.

Well, surely there must be some way... It's all right, dear. There's no point

in continuing our game of cat and mouse, is there?

Melanie, I'm afraid these gentlemen know the identity of Norma Brent's murderer,

as I suspect you do too.

I had an idea that Melanie hadn't taken her sleeping pill the night I finally

left this house and murdered Norma Brent.

Norma threatened to tell a life story to the Sunday newspaper, exposing me as a

bigamist and saying that Melanie was her daughter by me.

She gave me a reasonable amount of time to meet the price of her silence.

Gentlemen were all familiar with the psychology of blackmailers.

They can rarely be silenced.

Precisely. On the night of the murder, I left this house to find Norma.

I'm not sure if I really intended to murder her then.

So sorry.

Would either of you gentlemen like a drink?

No, thank you, sir.

Not at the moment.

I knew exactly where to find her.

I didn't have to wait long before I saw Norma and Mr. Colfax leaving the pub.

They were in extremely high spirits.

Or extremely high spirits were in them.

Norma was carrying a bottle of gin.

I followed them, hoping for an opportunity to get Norma by herself.

I was determined to settle the matter once and for all.

I had rather a good story prepared.

I never got the chance to put it to her.

Colfax left her outside her home and she went in.

So I made my way over to the window and got there just in time to hear her

drunken altercation.

with Wachowski.

I gathered that once she'd received her inheritance, she'd leave Wachowski for

Colfax and her comeback.

I knew then there'd be no reasoning with her.

Wachowski struck Norma.

All hell broke loose.

Norma struck Wachowski and fled.

He fell over a chair.

I thought he'd knocked himself out.

And here was my opportunity.

I chased Norma onto the heath and caught her. I was right.

There was no reasoning with her.

I strangled her.

If, as you say, you didn't plan all this, where did you get the cord with

which you strangled her from?

Cord? Surely that's obvious from around her waist.

No, sir, there was a cord around her waist when we found her.

Where did you get the cord you strangled her with? Well, Inspector, it's a long

time ago now. I must have picked it up from somewhere. Oh, come, sir, you must

remember. Well, I... Where did you get it? I can't... If you killed her, where

did you get the cord?

Inspector, my head, I... The cord, sir. Please. Where did you get it? No,

please. Stop it!

Stop it.

I got the cord. Melanie, don't! I got the cord, Inspector, from Father's old

wardrobe. I killed her. It was difficult.

I know what I'm doing, Mr Preston.

I've planned it for years.

Melanie, what do you mean?

I'd always planned to kill her if ever she made you unhappy.

I love you, Father.

I know she was my mother, but I love you.

When she started again, oh, I heard her. On the phone extension and by

eavesdropping. I knew what to do. I must warn you, Mr... There's no need to,

Inspector. That night, you're quite right, Father. I hadn't taken my

sleeping pill.

I followed you, dressed in some of your old clothes.

I saw you spy on them.

I heard you reason with Norma.

And I heard her refuse to give up her plan to ruin your reputation.

Then without even raising your voice, you just left her.

It was then that I killed her.

I heard a scream.

I thought it was probably some prowler who was... It was impossible for me to

go and help her.

I might have been seen. I might have been questioned.

I thought it was a stroke of providence until I got home.

Melanie was out.

Some of my clothes were missing.

I guessed.

How? Call it a father's intuition, Mr. Preston.

Miss Delacorte, I must ask you to come with me.

You'll be charged with the murder of Norma Brent.

My father must be kept out of this, Inspector. I must have your word for

that.

I can't give it to you, Miss. But, Inspector... Oh, Melanie, you're my

daughter.

I must do everything I can to help you.

Well, Mr Preston, now that Mr Vichovsky will be set free, you're without a

client. My daughter tells me you have rather an unsavoury reputation.

Oh, I've been trying to create a new image for myself. Have you?

Well, then, would you be interested in preparing my daughter's defense?

I'm not inexpensive.

What is in this worst of all possible worlds?

Well, Melanie, I've long been thinking it was time I stepped back into the

limelight.

What a sensation.