All language subtitles for Victim.1961.720p.BluRay.H264.AAC-RARBG

Thanks, Mrs P.

You're a fine one, Jack, waking me up.
You know I'm on nights.

Just a sec.

Yeah, okay, The Chequers, then?

Yes, I heard... the flat parcel,
back of your wardrobe.

Yeah, I'll find it. Hm.

Look, don't waste
time talking. Yep, bye.

-(Police Officer) Er, Mrs Pascoe?
-(Mrs Pascoe) Yes?

(Police Officer) Er, we're police officers. We'd like a
word about your lodger, Barrett - Jack Barrett.

(Mrs Pascoe)
Oh. Won't you come in, please?

(Police Officer)
Thank you.

(COIN DROPS)

Oh, Mr Melville Farr's chambers?

Can I speak to Mr Farr, please?

Mm? Oh, Barrett; Jack Barrett.

Oh, thank you.

He's quite a giant-killer,
this Major Humphries.

How long's he been running his head
against this particular brick wall?

Three years, Mr Farr; ever since the Rural District Council
designated his land for acquisition as a housing estate.

Well, he's in the right, you know.

It's beyond their powers
under the '57 Housing Act.

He's strangled in red tape.

Do you think we
should take it on, sir?

The Major's funds must
be running a bit low.

-Who are his solicitors?
-Hambury and Wilcox.

I'd let them worry about
that if I were you.

The point is, the Major's right, the Ministry's wrong,
and I should like to make them squirm.

(BUZZER)

-(Farr) Hello.
-Mr Jack Barrett for you, Mr Farr. He says it's very urgent.

All right, William... er, telephone Major Humphries'
solicitors; arrange a meeting some time next week.

Very good, sir.

Put him through.

Barrett?

If I hear from you again,
I shall inform the police.

Do you understand?

That's absolutely final.

Boy's a bit exclusive today, isn't he?

Yes, he doesn't look any too happy.

Is that Barrett coming back?

Yes.

You'd hear a pin
fall on a feather, PH.

Compensation for dead eyes, dear boy.

Two thousand pounds...?

Two thousand three hundred.

All right. But what're you gonna do?

-Did the police come?
-Yes. I had to nip out pretty smartish.

Did you get the parcel?

Yes, it's in your bag, under here.

The point is, what're you gonna do?

Oh, I don't know.

Now, look, just go to a
cinema; sit it out till it's dark.

No, no...

(Eddy)
Well, what, then?

Well, better you don't know,
then you can't tell 'em.

I wouldn't give you away.

(SIGHS)
They'd twist it out of you.

No, they- they wouldn't, mate, look...

I'll be all right, now, Eddy.

Thanks for bringing the parcel.
No, no, you stay and finish my beer.

Well, watch yourself, now.

Yeah.

What's the matter with Boy, Eddy?

Oh, he's all right.

Did you get Barrett?

No, sir.

Gave us the slip.
Sorry, sir.

'Sorry' never arrested anyone, Sergeant.

No, sir.

Find anything in his room?

(Bridie)
Nothing worth a penny, sir.

Clean, tidy, very bare.

(Bridie)
I had a talk with the landlady.

Boy never went anywhere.
Hardly a shirt to his name...

lived out of tins in his room.

This has a familiar ring, Bridie.

Yes, sir.

And when you bring him in,
we shall find the answer.

Send out a general alert.

Yes, sir.

Get on with it, Bridie.

(Bridie)
Yes, sir.

Hello, Farr. I was hoping
I might bump into you.

Oh, yes?

It's about this charity subscription I'm running-

Charles, you've made a fortune for your shareholders.
Why don't you ask them to stump up a bit?

I've tried, my dear fellow,
but they're most unco-operative!

-Hello, Mandrake.
-Charles. Hello, Farr.

I've seen your exhibition. Congratulations. I thought
the industrial photographs were absolutely splendid.

-Thank you.
-Have you seen his show?

-No, I haven't.
-Well, you should, it really is excellent.

Excuse me, m'lord -
telephone call for you, sir.

-Who is it?
-Mr Barrett.

Oh - not in, Thompson.
Want a drink before lunch?

Mm. Better let me get them. You'll need all
your money for Charles' subscription.

Oh.

So you've turned up again, Boy.

Hello, Miss Benham. I want
to see Mr Doe. Is he in?

I'll see.

Ah...

so, the prodigal's returned, Miss Benham!

Looked us up again, eh?

Can I speak to you?

Shall I say ‘yes'?

Or shall I say 'no'?

Please, Harold.

All right. I don't hold malice. Let's see
what you've got to say. Come along.

(Doe)
Why aren't you working?

-Got the afternoon off.
-Very nice.

(Doe)
I'm just going to make a cup of tea.

Harold, I want you to promise
me something. It's important.

Promise?

Well, it's waited six months.
Surely it can wait a little longer?

No, it can't - it's got to be now!

Now?

Are you dictating to me?

Harold, listen, please...

I said 'please' once, Boy.

It didn't have much effect... did it?

But, this is different.

Oh, I see.

You've got to promise me
you'll never tell anyone.

'Tell'?

Have I got anything to tell?

Well, yes... you remember,
back last spring...

when I... when I left...

Oh, that.

Oh, well, there's no fun in gossip
unless you can mention names.

And you never did, did you?

Not that secrets don't have
a horrid way of leaking out.

Did you find out the name, Harold?

Did you? I must know!

What d'you mean, 'must'? I don't
think I'm going to tell you.

Just sweat it out.

I know what horrid imaginings are.
Now you're going to have your share.

You look at me as if you hate me.

That's a very good guess.

For God's sake, get out!

(Doe)
Come back when I'm in a better temper!

No, I'm sorry, Mr Barrett,
Mr Farr has left.

No, I haven't seen him since lunch.

(Charles) ...yes, I agree, but by
inclination we're all individualists.

Every man wants to
own his own business.

But the pressure of modern commerce is gradually
pushing the independent trades out of business.

(HIS VOICE FADES)
Now, my plan is to let them keep their autonomy,

but at the same time have all the advantages the combines
enjoy, through an associated purchasing company.

You haven't heard a damn
word I've been saying.

Yes, yes, I have... it's a fine plan.

It'll help a lot of people.

You only heard because you're trained to
listen with one ear, and look with the other.

You really care about
people, don't you?

Yes... yes, of course I do.

(KNOCKING)

Sorry Phip, I know you don't like
people coming to the showroom.

Not me, old mate - the powers
that be aren't keen on social calls.

Phip, can you drive
me out of London?

Sorry, sport... couldn't have
come at a worse time.

I'm, er, I'm scheduled to deliver a crate out
at, er, Richmond when I'm finished here.

Where d'you want to go?

Kelworth, New Town.

Well, flag a lift from a lorry?

Be all right.

Yeah. Yeah, I'll be all right.

(Mrs Brooks)
Good evening, Mr Farr.

Evening, Mrs Brooks. My wife home?

-She's not back from the Clinic yet.
-Oh.

-Her brother's here.
-Oh, good.

(Scott)
Ah, there you are, Mel.

Hello, Scott, how are you?
Nice to see you.

Felt a bit lonely. Ronnie
went back to school today.

Never mind - only ten weeks till Easter.

(Farr)
Come and have a drink.

What's all this about clinics?
Laura having trouble?

No, no - only of her own making. She's taken a
spare-time job, working with difficult children.

Oh...

Apparently, she's rather good at it.

If you go into court with that rubbish
it'll do your client no good.

Brent's wife will get costs, custody and alimony,
which is exactly what she wants... selfish bitch.

No, I-I- I'd plead discretion; place the whole
of her life on the bench in front of the judge.

Harry Brent won't do that.

Then, I should tell him to find somebody
else to lose the case for him.

-You would, too!
-Yeah, damn right I would.

(LAURA - FROM HALL)
Mel?

Yes, in here, darling.

-Hello, darling. Hello, Scott.
-Hello, love.

(Farr)
And how were the little idiots today?

It's not a lunatic asylum!

-Oh, isn't it? I thought it was.
-Very funny.

Did you get Ronnie off all right?

Yes... miserable.

Why don't you stay and
have dinner with us?

Can't, thanks - I'm just off.
I've got a lot of work tonight.

The Campbell brief fell
into my lap last week.

Lord knows why they call
it a ‘brief'... it never is.

What will you do about dinner?

-Oh, don't worry, I've got some stuff in the fridge.
-Are you sure?

Yes, of course.

-All right. Good night.
-Night, night.

Take care of each other.

-Good night.
-'Night.

(Laura) I worry about Scott, living on his
own with Ronnie to bring up.

He seems lost since Helen died.

I think he ought to get married again.
Ronnie needs a mother.

Why don't you tell him? You're his sister.

I have. He doesn't seem to want to.

Perhaps he's not in love with anybody.

Well, he ought to be.

That's typical feminine logic.

Do you love me?

Yes... yes, I do.

A little reassurance helps.

(CHUCKLES)
Come on.

Thanks a lot.

Frank... Frank!

Hey, Frank! Wait!

Hi, Frank.

-Hello, Jack.
-Hi, Sylvie.

Here.

-(Frank) What?
-In here!

Where have you sprung from, Jack?

-I want to get down to the coast.
-What's stopping you?

Sylvie... if Jack wants to shake
down for the night, he's welcome.

No. I told you last time he came
I wouldn't have him anymore.

(Frank) You're not going to stop me
having who I like in my own house.

Don't quarrel over me - please...

-He's staying, Sylvie.
-Not with us.

Why can't he stick with his own sort?

You can come home, Frank Jeffries,
when you've got rid of him.

I- I never knew Sylvie
felt like that about me.

-What's up, Jack?
-I'm in terrible trouble, Frank.

-Can I help?
-I've got to get out of the country.

I can buy a job as a steward on a
ship if I can get to Southampton.

I need twenty quid, though.

I haven't got it tonight, but... I'll wire
it to you, first thing in the morning.

-Will you?
-Of course I will.

(SIGHS)
Thanks a lot, Frank.

-Er, I- I'm sorry about...
-Ah, no, no, no, no...

I'll... say goodbye, then.

No, no, I'll walk with
you to the coast road.

Get it off your chest.
It'll do you good.

Well, if that's the way of it...
you're in a hell of a mess.

Have you told me everything?

Everything. Now do you
understand why I took the money?

Of course.

I wish you'd stay and face the music.

-No...
-I'd go to the police with you...

No, they'd twist hell out of me!
Make me say why I took it.

-Well, it's bound to come out in the end...
-Look - I know what I'm doing.

I'll be off now, Frank. I'll soon
catch a lift. Goodbye, and thanks.

What, for a measly twenty quid?

No, for knowing me all these years...
and still being a friend.

Well, it used to be witches.

At least they don't burn you.

Good luck, Jack.

You'll never forgive me, will you?

It's not your fault you haven't got
enough brains to understand.

Oh, you have, I suppose?

I feel sorry for him, that's all.

-Sorry, for that?
-Yes.

Jack used to talk to me.

He's very lonely, deep inside...

hasn't got what you
and I have got, Sylvie.

(TELEPHONE RINGS)

Hello?

No, this is Mrs Farr speaking.

What name?

Barrett?

Well, where's he calling from?

Oh, very well, I'll accept the call.

(Operator)
Go ahead, caller.

Mr Farr?

Barrett; Jack Barrett.

It's urgent.

I'll call again at... eight in the morning.

Oh, all right, I'll... I'll give him a message.

Hello. I thought you'd gone to bed.

I had, but I heard the telephone.

Oh, was it someone for me?

A young man, Barrett. He was
'phoning from Kelworth.

He reversed the charge, so I
thought I ought to accept the call.

What did he want?

He'll 'phone again tomorrow
morning, about eight o'clock.

He sounded quite desperate.

This Barrett; is it a case?

It is now.

Never mind... let's go up.

(Inspector Harris) During the last seven
months in your job as wages clerk,

you've been drawing the salaries
of five fictitious workmen.

All told, you've appropriated around
two thousand, three hundred pounds.

Where is it?

You've opened a bank account, a
Post Office savings book, haven't you?

What name did you give?

Isn't it enough that l
said I took the money?

-Your employers want it back.
-Where is it?

Er... I've... I've spent it.

What on, son?

There's nothing new in your wardrobe.

You live cheaply.... eat cheaply...

Who's been putting the squeeze on you?

Come on, open up!

We don't like blackmail
any more than you do.

Look, I took the money...

I stole it, and I spent it! That's all.

We mean to find out what's
behind this, Barrett.

You've got yourself in a real jam, son. Look, far
better come clean and then we can help you.

Och, we're wasting our time, sir.

All right, Barrett. Let's see what a
little solitary contemplation will do.

Get in a sensible frame of mind.
We'll talk to you again later.

Right, off you go.

(Bridie)
Mac!

Put him down.

That boy's not a thief.

More victim than criminal,
if my supposition is right.

I'm always worried, sir, when I find myself
allowing the motive to mitigate the crime.

Yes... our jobs would be much easier if we just
had to deal with the Bill Sykes of this world.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Come in.

The stuff they took from the drain is a scrapbook,
sir, now we've got it pieced together.

You haven't eaten your dinner.

(Sergeant)
Must stoke up, you know.

What's gonna happen to me?

They'll talk to you again later,
when you've had a rest.

Why don't you sleep a bit?

Put your feet up.

That's right. Rest. Shut your
eyes. Sort out your answers.

You'll have to tell the truth in the end.
May as well make up your mind to it.

Fulham Police Station have been on the
telephone, sir; a Detective Inspector Harris.

(Farr)
Well?

He'd like you to drop in, sir.

Well, it's on my way home.
What about?

The Inspector didn't say, sir, but I got the
impression it was a matter of some importance.

Telephone my wife, will you?

-Tell her I'll be a bit late.
-Yes, sir.

-And there's another thing.
-Oh?

A letter from the Lord Chancellor's office.

Don't tell me we've been turned down?

Hardly, sir. Our friends think you
should've taken silk some time ago.

Being a QC can be a
risky business, William.

Many a good junior practice has
failed being in the front row.

I'm not worried about that, sir. I'm
sure we shall be quite at home there.

Well, I'm glad you think so.

(Farr)
These have been in water.

(Harris) Yes. The boy tried
desperately to get rid of them.

(Harris)
We had to have the drain up.

Newspaper cuttings... pictures
carefully preserved in a scrapbook...

and all pertaining to
you and your career, sir.

Do you know Barrett?

Yes, I met him some time ago.

He, er... he thumbed a lift one night; said
he'd missed the last bus to Fulham.

It was on my way home,
so I, er, dropped him off.

-(Harris) Did you see him again?
-Yes.

He was working on a building
site quite near my chambers.

I often used to see him standing down there at the
traffic lights - the Strand-Waterloo intersection.

It seemed churlish not to give him
a lift now and again, so... I did.

Then I stopped.

Oh? Why did you do that, sir?

I came to the conclusion that he was waiting
for me. Wet or fine, he was always there.

I see.

So that was the end of it?

No, he, er... he started writing... telephoning.

I destroyed his letters...
warned him not to call.

We believe that Barrett
was being blackmailed, sir.

He's been stealing from his firm for
months; over two thousand pounds.

There's nothing to show for it. He had less than
half a dollar in his pocket when we picked him up.

Did he give you any hint, any impression,
that he was being blackmailed?

No.

Then this started after
you finished seeing him?

It would seem that way.

Have you any idea what Barrett might
have been paying to keep quiet?

No idea at all.

Er, you knew, of course,
that he was a homosexual?

I had formed that impression.

You know, also, sir, that as many as ninety percent
of all blackmail cases have a homosexual origin?

I follow your train of thought, Inspector.

But I wouldn't know if it applied
in this particular instance.

You can't hazard a guess, sir?

No.

Well, there's no doubt that a law which sends homosexuals
to prison offers unlimited opportunities for blackmail.

Well, thank you, sir. You've
been extremely helpful.

Thank you.

Do you, erm... do you have
any line on the blackmailer?

No, sir. We couldn't get a word
out of Barrett, which is a pity.

Blackmail's the simplest of crimes when we have the
co-operation of the victim; almost impossible when we haven't.

Can I, er... can I see Barrett?

I'd like to talk to him.

That's not possible, sir.

Barrett hanged himself
in his cell this afternoon.

He's dead.

Well, I'm sorry to have kept
you waiting, Mr Stone.

The Inspector's free now -
I'll take you up in a moment.

Thanks.

This way, Mr Farr.

That was Eddy Stone, sir. We
fetched him to identify the body.

Stone?

He works as a ticket clerk at Twofosters
tube station. Friend of Barrett's.

Oh.

Good night, sir.

Did you know your friend
was being blackmailed?

No. I just thought
he was brassed off.

How well did Barrett
know Mr Melville Farr?

Who?

The gentleman I was with
when I saw you in the hall.

I- I don't know. I've
never seen him before.

Boy didn't mention anyone
called 'Farr' to me.

I see.

Your friend was very secretive.

Didn't he confide in you?

No. Why should he?

Look, can I go now?

I don't see why not.

If you do decide to remember
anything Barrett said, let us know.

Blackmail's a serious business.

So's murder.

He's right. This blackmailer as
good as murdered Barrett.

I want him before he
does any more damage.

Did Farr recognise him downstairs?

No, sir.

Nevertheless, whatever the blackmailer had
on Barrett concerned Farr; of that I'm certain.

But Mr Farr's married, sir.

That was our famous last words, Bridie.

He took Barrett into his car...

No harm in giving the boy a lift.

Maybe not. It's the subsequent
lifts that worry me.

Check on Barrett's background.
Find out if there are any relations.

And tell Sergeant Hoey
to get his Sunday suit.

Very good, sir.

If only these unfortunate devils
would come to us in the first place

If only they led normal lives,
they wouldn't need to come at all.

If the law punished every abnormality
we'd be kept pretty busy, son.

Even so, sir, this law was
made for a very good reason.

If it were changed, other
weaknesses would follow.

I can see you're a
true puritan, Bridie, eh?

Well, there's nothing wrong with that, sir.

Of course not. But there was a time
when that was against the law, you know.

Ah... very good, sir.

-Oh, hello, darling.
-Hello darling.

Sorry I'm late... did, er,
did William telephone you?

Yes - he said you had some marvellous
news! He could hardly contain himself.

'Marvellous news'... Oh, yes, er, the Lord
Chancellor accepted my application.

That's wonderful! We must celebrate.

I don't very much feel like celebrating
tonight, if you don't mind.

Mel, are you all right?
Is something wrong?

William said you were so pleased;
what happened on the way home?

He said you had to go to Fulham Police Station.
Were you in an accident, or something?

No, no... I'm all right.

I'm sorry.

I'll go and run your bath.

(Mrs Pascoe)
Is that you, Eddy?

Who else?

Here's your milk.

(Mrs Pascoe) Thanks. And there's
some letters by the phone for you.

When did they come?

(Mrs Pascoe) Monday or Tuesday.
Took 'em in with mine - I forgot.

I hear Farr's taking silk?

That's right. QC at forty.
There's no stopping the blighter.

We'll see him on the bench yet.

Well, he's got a big enough practice.
He'll be able to afford it.

(Eddy)
Mr Farr?

What do you want?

I want to talk to you.

I only see people by appointment.

I think you ought to
see this photograph.

(Eddy) That's what Boy was
paying to keep quiet... you and 'im.

I just found it.

You'd better come upstairs.

-Morning, Mr Farr.
-Morning, William.

If there are any calls, you take them.
I don't want to be disturbed.

Yes, sir. We're in court this morning, sir.

Yes, I know we are.

Well, it's clear enough now.

Boy stole all that money
to pay for the negative.

But the bastards never sent it -
just another print, as a reminder.

How, er...

how could they have taken this?

They were obviously trailing Boy.

Telephoto lens. It's an old dodge.

(Eddy) You were in the car,
you wouldn't ever see them.

Have you shown this to the police?

Well, of course I haven't!

That's what he was trying to prevent.

Don't you see?

Yes, I see.

I see...

Why did he have to go and...

Hang himself?

He knew the police would get
it out of him in the end.

He didn't want to involve you.

You'll be all right.

(Farr)
Yes.

He should've come to you. He wasn't
big enough to be on his own like that.

He should've come to you...

He did.

I thought he was trying to blackmail me.

I wouldn't even talk to him.

Jesus...

Poor old Boy.

He didn't stand much of a chance
between you and the blacky, did he?

No.

Well, I'd better go.

(Eddy)
I... I just thought you'd want to know.

No, Stone, wait a minute.

Do you know who was blackmailing him?

No.

Well, I'm going to find out.

And you're going to help me.

(Eddy)
What for? They'll pack it in now...

(Eddy)
Now that he's dead.

I mean, they're scared of tackling you, otherwise
they'd have done it in the first place.

Why go looking for trouble?

If I hadn't been trying so bloody hard to avoid
trouble, this might never had happened.

But it has. And they're not
going to get away with it.

Well, if you dig this over it could
end in one hell of a scandal.

And it wouldn't only be
you who came down.

I know that.

I... I can't help you.
I don't know anything.

You don't have to know anything. All you
have to do is to watch; watch for fear.

Fear is the oxygen of blackmail.

Barrett was paying,
others are. Find me one.

You're crazy, Mr Farr... you're not thinking...

Stone, are you going to help me, or not?

Okay. I'll listen around.

I'd like to get 'em, too.

Just remember, if you do run 'em down...
you'll bring yourself down as well.

Call me here.

I'll call you.

Bye.

-It should be there first thing in the morning, PH.
-Good.

There they go, PH... homing pigeons.

I hope they come back with
their little beaks bulging.

Let's have a sherry at The Chequers. I love to hear
the chat. They'll all be talking about Boy Barrett.

Who'd have thought he'd go
and do a thing like that?

Who would?

It's shaken me, PH. I wish we
could go back to Cheltenham.

Just a while longer, Mickey.
We'll wind it up soon.

-We cross now, don't we?
-Yes.

I'm ready to go to
the post, Mr Doe.

Mr Doe.

I'm ready to go to the post.

Boy's dead.

He hanged himself.

It's in the paper.

I must go to the post.

Will you please come in the shop?

No.

Close the shop.

Pull down the blinds.

Miss Benham...

...if anyone comes asking
questions about Boy-

I'm not interested in
your affairs, Mr Doe.

I'm just here for
the salary on Friday.

I only meant to teach him a lesson.

I thought he'd come back...

thought he'd come back.

(DOOR BELL JANGLES)

They don't know anything,
except what's in the papers.

Good God, that's enough, isn't it?

Henry the Comb looks
like death warmed up.

Ssh! The Troll's speaking;

she said, ‘Barrett never had a penny to
bless himself with - what happened to the money?'

Well, I could answer that in one.

(Mickey) Phip's moving up now,
Madge is pushing the boat out

(Mickey) Safe for him to
come alongside. (CHUCKLES)

Ah, I've lost them now.

Fill up the glasses, Mickey. Tio
Pepe, please, not this treacle.

Certainly, PH.

Come on - another drink
all round, we'll feel better.

Thanks, Madge - I'll- I'll sink a jar.

I'm flush this week.
Modelling for Mandrake.

Luxury fridges.

Mandrake's good to you.

(Madge)
Mmm... Old Pals' Act.

(Madge) We were in rep together
twenty years ago at Bournemouth.

Not for me, thanks, Madge.
Don't feel like drinking today.

Well, I'm off. Bye, all.

(Eddy)
Bye, Henry.

For a man sitting on a goldmine,
Henry looks pretty miserable.

Henry's sold his goldmine.

-What?
-What did you say?

(Fred) Yes. Bloke over there - he's
the estate agent who did the sale.

Think I'll slide now, sport.

So long, Madge. Have
one on me next time.

That'll be the day.

Fred...

Yeah?

Who's the bloke in the pinstripe?
He keeps looking at me.

(Fred) I don't know. Used to come in
The Wheatsheaf when I was there.

Real lone wolf.

I'd better go.
See you.

-So long, Eddy.
-Yeah, cheers.

I don't know how you can stand 'em.

Who?

Eddy and Phip and the rest of 'em.
All the same, the whole bloomin' lot.

Oh, I thought they amused you?

Oh, they're good for a laugh, all right...

very witty, at times. Generous, too.

But I hate their bloody guts.

Hey!

Well, don't look at me like that.

Well, they're just not quite normal, dear.

What's it matter to you? If they had gammy
legs or something, you'd be sorry for them.

Sorry for 'em? Not me.

It's always excuses - every
newspaper you pick up, it's excuses.

Environment, too much love as kids... too little
love as kids... they can't help it... part of nature.

Well, to my mind, it's the
weak, rotten part of nature.

And if they ever make it legal, they may
as well license every other perversion.

(CHUCKLES) Come on, Mickey,
this place is getting boring.

Let's go and see what
the postman brought us.

Should be a nice bag today. I think our
little efforts might be very well rewarded.

Good day, gentlemen;
good day. Tomorrow, I hope?

Insincere bastard!

Well, what else can
you be in this game?

Eddy... I just saw you passing.

Sold your shop?

Who told you that?

Fred at The Chequers. He
heard through the estate agent.

Why, is it a secret?

No, of course not. But I wish people
would mind their own business, that's all.

Anyway, I'm off on Thursday.

Eddy... I am sorry about Boy.
You'll miss him.

Yes.

If you're sending any flowers,
put a few blooms in for me.

Yes, I will.

Well... goodbye, then.

Yes, goodbye... and good luck.

-Chilly today, sir.
-Yes.

Take a seat, sir. I shan't
keep you a minute.

Well, I'm not sure
it'll lead anywhere...

The chap I know has got a good hairdressing
business... and he's been acting jumpy lately.

Well, now he's suddenly decided to sell up.

Yeah, well, it could be he's
being squeezed as well.

What's his address?

And his name?

I'd like to catch him
just before he closes.

Yeah, well, I must hang up
'cause I've got customers.

Yep, Henry's of Harbourne Street.

Right, bye.

-Thank you.
-Thank you.

Er, Mr Henry?

I'm sorry, sir, we're just closing.

This won't take very long;
it's a... private matter.

I'll be off, then, Mr Henry.

That's all right, George,
I'll close up. Good night.

Good night.

I understand you're selling this place.

Who told you that?

-You're being blackmailed, aren't you?
-What are you talking about?

I don't know what
you're talking about!

But you are selling this place,
all the same, aren't you?

I haven't told anyone where
I'm going... Who are you?

And you're afraid of being followed.
Who's squeezing you, Henry?

I don't know.

Who are you?

-You're from the police?
-No.

I'm a friend of someone
you used to know...

Boy Barrett.

I want to know who killed him.
You can help me.

How do you pay the money?

I don't remember...
I'm not saying anything.

I can't help the way I am, but
the law says I'm a criminal.

I've been to prison four times.

I couldn't go through
that again, not at my age.

I'm going to Canada.

I've made up my mind to be 'sensible',
as the prison doctor used to say.

Don't care how lonely... but sensible.

Can't stand any more trouble...

I'm sorry about Boy Barrett.
But he's dead... finished.

Nothing can help him now.

Barrett's death was murder.

(Farr)
Do you want that to go unpunished?

Who...

who are you?

Melville Farr. I'm a barrister.

The blackmailer can't reach you in Canada.

Tell me how you pay the money,
and let me deal with it.

It wouldn't help.

-Do you know anyone else who's paying?
-No, no!

I think you do.

I'm not saying another
word, Mr Farr.

My number's in the book.

If you change your mind, let me know.

Not a chance. I've
got myself to think of.

Nature played me a dirty trick.

I'm going to see I get a few years'
peace and quiet in return.

You've got a big position;
they'd listen to you.

You ought to be able
to state our case...

tell them there's no magic
cure for how we are.

Certainly not behind prison bars.

I've come to feel like
a criminal, an outlaw.

Do you know what I think, Mr Farr?

I think Boy Barrett's well out of it.

We've never met, Henry,
but we know each other.

You might say that we're pen-pals.

Now, they say that you're going
away without paying your debts.

(TUTS)
Bad show, Henry.

You can't expect to flourish
like the green bay tree.

I, I...

Don't interrupt.

You've been talking to Mr Melville Farr.
What did you tell him, hm?

I didn't tell him anything.

Well, now, think, Henry... what did
you tell that fine, upstanding barrister?

I didn't tell him anything!

You ridiculous old sordid, you.

If you could only see yourself.
You look your age tonight, Henry.

What a funny colour you've gone.

I think we'll have a little privacy.

You know, I could do
a lot of damage here.

Five, ten minutes...

and you wouldn't have much to sell.

(HE SMASHES THE GLASS)

(Sandy Youth)
Do stop gaping.

(Sandy Youth)
There's nothing a little chat won't put right.

(Sandy Youth) All I want is the
answer to a simple question:

(Sandy Youth)
what did you tell Mr Melville Farr?

(GLASS SHATTERING)

Oh, hello, Doctor.

'Evening, Mrs Farr.
You should be off home.

I just wanted to see him finish this.

Hmm... doesn't seem to
be much wrong with him now.

(Laura) No, he's been
working happily all afternoon.

(Doctor) Perhaps this'll help
him sort it out for himself.

Anyway, let me
know how he gets on.

I'll just give him another five minutes.

(SHE SIGHS)

Well, he was all right when I left the place...
making a funny noise in his throat...

Well, it looks like we have
lost a good subscriber.

No. No, I don't think
he told Farr anything.

Yeah... Yes, you're right, Farr
is showing a lot of interest.

I think we ought to find
out what he's up to.

A cop doing his rounds found
the back door unlocked.

Henry was lying there with
the telephone in his hand...

shop smashed to blazes.

Henry had a weak heart.

Did you say... he had
the telephone in his hand?

Yes, that's right.

Stone, do you know anybody
called 'Troy Carraway'?

No, never heard of him.

Is that something to
do with Henry?

I don't know whether it's got
anything to do with Henry...

but there was a rather curious message at the house
tonight, my housekeeper couldn't quite understand it.

She said the caller sounded
drunk, or ill, or something...

but, apparently, he said
'Troy- ' or ‘Try Carraway'.

Could that have been Henry?

'Carraway'...?

Does it ring a bell?

Now, wait a minute... I know a chap
who gets his hair cut at Henry's...

or, he did, but it, it's
not ‘Carraway', but it's...

-What is it?
-...well, it's like it... he's- he's a famous bloke...

Look, you'll know him, I bet,
he's... A Gallery Girl's Delight !

(TROLLEY RATTLES LOUDLY)

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Mm, yah?

There's a Mr Melville
Farr to see you, sir.

Oh, show him in.

Mr Farr, sir.

Ah. Well, how nice to see you.
I didn't know you were in front.

I wasn't; I was too late for the play.

Well, never mind. Take a pew.

Thank you.

I've enjoyed your performances several times.

I saw you and Leigh Hunter defend
Dr Porchester. He should have hung, you know.

There was a moment when we thought
he would - we were all very relieved.

Hmm. Well, what can I do for you?

I've come round to see
if you can help me.

Not another charity matinee?
I've done two this month already.

No, this is something rather
more serious, I'm afraid.

Oh?

This is impertinent...

and I may be mistaken, but...
do you ever receive an envelop

like that containing a
demand for money?

Is this some sort of a joke?

(Farr) Would you tell me how you pay it?

I don't know what
you're talking about.

I think you do.

I have a... a client in
the same situation.

I thought you might co-operate
and help me to put an end to it.

Albert!

-Sir?
-Mr Farr is leaving.

(Farr)
Thank you.

I can find my own way out.

Now, then, can you rustle me
up an Evening Standard?

-Certainly, sir.
-All right. Right away - right away.

(HE DIALS NUMBER)

Hullo, Teddy?

This is Tiny.
Thank God you're at home.

I'll be round in twenty minutes.

All right?

Sir...

there's been a hairdresser found dead in Harbourne
Street. Just came through on the teleprinter.

Shop was broken up;
looks like a murder case.

Harbourne Street... that's West End Central.

Haven't we enough crime in
this division for you, Bridie?

He was a convicted homosexual, sir.

I see.

There might be a tie-up with the Barrett case.
If this hairdresser was paying blackmail, too...

I'm quite as good at guessing
as you are, Sergeant.

Just get me the facts, will you?

Yes, sir.

If just one of them would
come forward... just one.

They're afraid of this
sort of violence, sir.

Yes, of course, they're only little people.

I thought we might have
heard from Mr Farr, though.

Mel?

The boy in the paper... Barrett.

The one that hanged himself
in Fulham Police Station.

Is that the same boy
that 'phoned here?

Yes.

Yes, it is.

You were there yesterday.

Did the police send for you?

Yes.

Why?

Apparently, they'd found a book.

He'd kept, er... a scrapbook.

Press cuttings about me. Pictures.

Why?

Hero worship.

Who was this Boy Barrett?

I gave him a lift occasionally.

You never told me.

No.

Papers say he was a wages clerk.

He'd been stealing from his firm.

How did you come to
meet a boy like that?

Back in the spring.

After a late session, he...
the last buses had gone.

That's only once.

You said 'occasionally'.

I know - I know what I said! Can't we discuss this
without turning the whole place into a battleground?

You stopped seeing him
and he killed himself...

It's Phil Stainer all over again.

No...

it wasn't the same with Stainer.

-Well, Barrett was...
-What was Barrett?

When we were married, we had
no secrets from each other.

I made you a promise then. I haven't broken
that promise, if that's what you mean.

Why did you stop seeing him?

He was getting too fond of me.

Are you sure you weren't
getting too fond of him?

Answer me!

I want to know the truth.

I want to know why he hanged himself.

He was being blackmailed.

-That's why he stole?
-Yes.

Someone found out he was a
homosexual and blackmailed him?

That's it.

It takes two to make a
reason for blackmail.

Were you the other man?

Were you?

Tell me everything - I want to know!

(SOFTLY)
I don't want you to.

I'd rather know than guess!

He'd been paying for months...

to stop copies of this
going round the Temple.

Why is he crying?

I'd just told him I couldn't
see him anymore.

So he knew it was the end.

And so did you.

Look at the picture.

There's as much pain in
your face as there is in his.

You haven't changed.

In spite of our marriage, in your
innermost feelings you're still the same.

It's why you stopped seeing him; you
felt for him what you felt for Stainer.

(Farr)
That's not true!

You were attracted to that boy
as a man would be to a girl!

Laura, Laura, don't go on, for
God's sake, stop! Stop now!

I can't stop! I- I love
you too much to stop.

I thought you loved me.

If you do, what did you feel for
him? I have a right to know!

All right, you want to
know - I shall tell you.

You won't be content until you know, will you?
Until you've ripped it out of me!

I stopped seeing him
because I wanted him.

Do you understand? (SHOUTS)
Because I wanted him!

Now, what good has that done you?

When did it begin?

From the moment I saw him.

You don't call that love?

No.

If it was love, why should
I want to stamp it out?

Why would I do
that if it was love?

His feeling for you? What was that?

(SOFTLY)
I don't know.

Yes, I think, perhaps, for him...

perhaps, for him, it was love.

The only kind of love he could feel.

He died for it to protect me.

That thought will remain with
you for the rest of your life.

I don't think there's going to
be room for me as well.

Oh, yes, m'lord... oh, just
one moment, please.

Lord Fullbrook, sir.

Oh. Thank you, Mrs Brooks.

Yes, Charles?

Well, can't it wait till Monday?

I must say, you make
it sound very dramatic.

Very well...

if you put it on a personal basis.

What address?

Eighteen, Nightingale Mews.

Come in. Fullbrook's waiting inside.

(Charles) Oh, hello, Farr.
Good of you to come.

You said it was a
matter of life and death.

It is, to me.

-You two know each other?
-Come to cases, Teddy; come to cases.

I'm afraid you upset Tiny
at the theatre last night.

Ask him who he's working for, Teddy.

You seem set on stirring up a
lot of trouble. I want you to stop.

What exactly does it have
to do with you, Charles?

Well, the demands addressed to Calloway...

cover the three of us.

I see.

Frankly, I'm surprised.

Why? You're a sophisticated man,
you know the invert is part of nature.

Sherry?

But I've known you for years, Charles.

One is discreet about these things!

What do you want?

Well, I want you to persuade your client to join us.
We'll pay the blackmailer off in one nice, big sum, hm?

Any idea who it is?

No.

It's a filthy thing, extortion.

Where do you leave the money?

At the- (SIGHS) There you are, Teddy,
you haven't have done a damn bit of good.

Steady, Tiny. Listen... our apparently calm acceptance
of this blackmail must seem very extraordinary to you.

But do you ever wonder about the law that makes us all victims
of any cheap thug who finds out about our natural instincts?

Paying blackmail won't alter the
law, it'll only encourage the blackmailer.

We've got to pay.
Tell him, Teddy; explain.

If we don't pay, ten
to one we land in jail,

with our crime - so called - damn nearly
parallel with robbery with violence.

Man-made laws are never perfect.

I'm a born odd man out, Farr...

but I've never corrupted the normal.

Why should I be forced to live outside the
law because I find love in the only way I can?

You're a star, Calloway.
People like you set a fashion.

If the young people knew how you lived,
might they think that an example to follow?

Of course youth must be protected,
we all agree about that.

But that doesn't mean that consenting males
in private should be pilloried by an antiquated law...

and made meat for blackmail.

If you're old enough to vote, you're old
enough to choose your own way of life.

Many of us reach the grave without
arriving at that stage of responsibility.

Do you support the law?

I am a lawyer.

Do you ever hear from the Stainers, Farr?

I was the old man's secretary, that's how
I knew young Stainer killed himself...

while you stayed alive...
shrouded yourself in virtue...

and married Judge Hankin's daughter.

Like an alcoholic takes a cure.

I thought you were unconscionably put out.

Now I see it's the rage of Caliban on
seeing his own reflection in the glass.

I may share your instincts,
but I've always resisted them.

That's what cost young Stainer his life.

He was a neurotic and an hysteric!

'Deny me and I'll kill myself'...
he was always crying wolf.

What did happen to Stainer?

When we were up at Cambridge together

we became very good friends for a while.

He was clever... and amusing...

but quite unstable, and completely possessive.

One night he telephoned to
say he was going to kill himself.

I didn't believe him;
he'd said it before.

But, apparently, this time he meant it.

And that's all there was to it.

All this ancient history
isn't getting us anywhere.

(Calloway)
Did you or didn't you? Who cares?

What you've got to do now is to forget any ideas
you've got about exposing these people.

Bring them down, and we
come with 'em. Just pay.

You pay, Calloway.

I shall make my own decision.

(Farr)
Darling...

Darling, come home. It's cold.

Been awake all night?

Yes, I've been awake.
Looking at myself.

When you told me about Phil Stainer,
it was over, in the past.

I was young; conceited, I suppose.

I thought marriage would make you content.

I was wrong.

That impulse is still there.

There hasn't been a day that
I haven't thanked God for you.

Mel, I'm not a lifebelt
for you to cling to.

I'm a woman. And I want
to be loved for myself.

I do love you.

If he was alive and standing beside
me, who would you choose?

You've had your answer to that.

But he's still in your heart.

I feel completely destroyed.

Have coffee tonight?

There's a real charnel-house atmosphere
in this place today, Mickey.

Ghastly. I shall we glad when
we get back to Cheltenham.

We'll go home after we've
made the last collection. Ssh!

Eddy's on his soapbox again.

Henry paid rates and taxes, and he
shopped, the same as everybody else.

But they knew he couldn't
go out and call the cops.

So he just stood there watching... while
these bastards broke up the shop.

You... you don't know
it happened that way.

It couldn't have happened
any other way... eh, Phip?

I don't like to think
about it, old mate.

No joy there.

-Call for you, Mr Mortimer.
-Who is it?

Some bloke - said, 'Tell him Sunday'.

-Madge...
-What?

Oh, what you drinking?

Oh... no more for me,
dear. I'm working today.

Modelling corsets at
Hobday and Rouse's.

Hope they've kept the studio warm. It's always
the same: mink in August and bikinis Christmas.

Oh, well - that's life. See you.

Yeah, bye.

I don't see how I can.

But how?

It's impossible!

I know, I know.

I said, ‘I know'.

Well, I'll work it... I'll work it.

Yeah... somehow.

Have a snack.
Go on.

No, thanks, Eddy.

You look as if you could
do with a good stoke-up.

How much weight you
lost in the last month?

Be a laugh, wouldn't it... if one of us developed
some guts and turned copper's nark.

Somebody putting the
screws on you, Phip?

-I never said that.
-You meant it.

Fantasia, sport, fantasia!

All right, keep your shirt on.

I'm not suggesting you bash round
the police station and blow the gaff.

Just wanted to be sure.

Don't you mix me in anything,
old mate - I can look after myself.

See you.

Anybody can come and
look at a car... sport.

You can put a penny on the bonnet, sir, and I
promise you the coin won't vibrate one iota.

-Would you drive around the park, Mr Mortimer?
-Very good, sir.

-How d'you know about me?
-Eddy Stone.

Eddy had no right to butt in.
I shan't half tear him off a strip.

Look, why don't you tell
them to do their damndest?

I daren't. Couldn't afford the publicity.

Slightest smell and I'd be
out of the old man's will.

There's quite a little bit coming to me.

What's with you? You're
not here for the ride.

I knew Boy Barrett.

Tragic little sport.

Came to me when he was on the
run. I couldn't do much for him...

I was broke.

You look broke.

You're very realistic.

It's a very realistic situation.

What have they got on you?

Some... some letters, in my
handwriting. They're all signed.

You can't afford to buy those letters.

I can.

What's all this generosity in aid of?

I want to get in touch with them;
they won't get in touch with me.

You tell me when your next summons is, I'll go
in your place and negotiate for both of us.

Wish I had the
guts to trust you.

You can trust my bank balance.

I've had my next summons:

tonight, Smith Place. Eight o'clock.

How many letters?

Five.

Right.

(Sandy Youth)
Over here, Mr Farr.

You bring a policeman?

Not that I care if you have.
You see, my motto is different from yours:

'mens sana in corpore sano'.

My God, you-

Ah-ah... it wouldn't take long for a magistrate to
decide who's got the clean mind in the healthy body.

Ah... I knew the white hope of Cavendish Cars would
blab when I saw him joyriding with you in the park.

Well?

I want to buy his letters, and what
you've got on me - the negative.

I shan't take one without the other.

I must remind you, Mr Farr, that you're
in no position to say what you'll do.

It's a question of policy with us.
We don't usually sell original material.

It won't be peanuts.

I shan't hand over any money until
I see the negative, and the letters.

The question is, how much?

Hmm, now, don't push,
Mr Farr... don't push.

We say when.

Well, we've had this ‘Will he or won't he?'
conversation so often.

Well, I've met him now, and I agree he's
not the subject for continual pressure.

Soft for, oh, one
payment, though - mm.

Mm, well, now, not too greedy...

Yes, he's got a lot at
stake; a wife, career...

Yes, the more they've got the
more they'll fight to keep it.

Huh, now- now- now, that
is a hell of a good idea!

Mm-hm, I'll watch.
I'll make sure she's out.

Oh, it'll only take me a few
moments once I'm there.

A nice salutary warning; ‘See
what'll happen if you blab', hm?

Okay, will do... bye.

Oh, don't bother to close it,
I've got to go back to the clinic.

It's better to.

It's only whitewash. It'll wash off.

What does it mean, Laura?

I don't know. Hooligans.

Nonsense! Too explicit.

This spells oblique blackmail to me.

What's behind it?

I don't know.

Oh, come along.

It's beginning to make a pattern.

How long have you known?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Is Mel ‘queer', as they say?

You'll have to make up
your own mind about that.

I've already done that, my dear.

It's time you had someone to talk to.

You knew nothing about this Boy Barrett,
you didn't suspect anything?

No.

I suppose in the back of my mind
I've always dreaded this, but...

Mel seemed so happy and
satisfied with our marriage.

Successful...

Oh, he's been successful, all right, but what has this
marriage meant for you? Have you been satisfied?

Yes...

yes.

He's very kind and understanding.

That's not what I mean.

Have you found real love, Laura?

Yes, I... I think so.

It's all I've known.

How dared he marry you!

There was nothing he didn't tell me. I married
Mel knowing everything about him.

How could you possibly understand
what it might mean? You were nineteen.

I loved him then.

In spite of everything, I...
I can't stop loving him.

You can't understand that, can you?

No. I don't think I can.

My dear, I've prosecuted and I've defended
this offence. Either way, it brings havoc.

Mel hasn't committed an offence.

Perhaps not; but the rot's still there.

Look how he's behaving now - what's
happened to his integrity?

Mel's to become a QC, Laura;
eventually a judge, even.

Is he going to sit on the bench knowing he,
himself, has covered up a serious crime?

But he's done nothing, I tell you!

The crime I'm talking about is blackmail.

If he doesn't go to the police about
this he'll be covering up blackmail.

But... if he does go to the police... it's the end of
his career - everything he's ever worked for.

It's the end of himself if he doesn't.

He can either go to the police - which,
apparently, he's reluctant to do.

Or he can deal with it himself.

Oh, yes, Mel's clever enough to run them
down, turn their own weapon against them:

'Do as I say or I'll hand you over'.

And what does that make him?
A blackmailer... no better than they are.

You mean he can't avoid being
destroyed whichever happens.

Yes, I do, Laura.

And I don't want you to
be destroyed with him.

You're young enough to start again. Clear off,
leave Mel to fight this battle on his own.

You don't really think
I could do that?

It's not only you I'm thinking of. I've got a son. And I'm not going
to have Ronnie hero-worshipping Mel, knowing what I do.

Think you'd better go.

Perhaps I had.

Well... I'm up the
road if you want me.

A telegram, sir. Miss Hobson sent it over,
she thought it might be important.

Um...

I'm going out.

Er... cancel my lunch date, and, er...

apologise to Mr Canning.

Right, sir.

What does it mean, ‘Contact your wife?'

Has someone been to the house?

No.

What does it mean?

There was something on the garage door.

Big letters, in paint.

What did it say?

I don't want to tell you.

What did it say?

'Farr is... queer'.

What does the rest of it
mean? All these instructions?

Where to take the
money and how to pay it.

The dirty words on the garage door
are a final test of strength.

They're... they're a gentle reminder that you
can be included in this sphere of operations, too.

Are you...

are you going to keep the appointment?

A man who's paying blackmail is
hardly likely to make an ideal QC.

I'm sure your brother
Scott will tell you that.

Oh, never mind what Scott says.

He's a perfect barometer of public morality.

In any case, he's right.

But if I hand the blackmailer
over to the police...

...it won't just be the
end of my career.

It'll be the end of everything.

And our ugly little story will appear in daily
instalments on millions of breakfast tables.

On the other hand, if I pay...

I buy security...

of a sort.

What are you going to do?

For the moment, I'm going up to town.
I've taken enough away from you already.

When I come home I shan't
expect to find you there.

Just leave an address with
Mrs Brooks so that I...

so that she can send
anything on to you.

William.

Come down here
a moment, will you.

(William)
Yes, sir.

Close the door.

I'm afraid you've...

got to prepare yourself
for a bit of a shock.

I'm sorry to worry
you with this, but, er...

I'm not quite sure how this
is all going to end, and I...

I don't want it to
burst in your face.

I see the implication, sir. But this
couldn't be the basis of any charge.

I know.

That's the tragedy of it.

The boy thought it could.

It wouldn't mean anything
if he weren't crying.

As it is, I suppose
it looks everything.

Yes.

It's a very good likeness.

We must get the negatives.

Thank you, William.

I expected at least one question.

Don't you have any?

I've believed in your
integrity for ten years, sir.

I can see no reason
to question it now.

(Farr)
Get me Fulham Police Station.

It's all there. Ask Marylebone to pick 'em up.
Get 'em red-handed when they collect the loot.

Right, sir.

Yes?

Who?

Bridie - listen to this call.

Put Mr Farr on.

No, sir, I'm not really surprised...

I thought you'd be
calling sooner or later.

Yes, Mr Farr... I'm listening.

Six homing pigeons, PH.
Not bad for a last collection.

Very good, my dear.

I say, this one's got a
dollop in its beak...

a cheque for fifty pounds
from that woman in Exeter.

You certainly can pile on the agony!

Don't open them in the street, Mickey!

All right - I thought
you'd just like to know.

And we'd like to know, too.

It's a fair cop, son.

I don't know what you're
talking about. Who are you?

Police officers, making an arrest.

On what charge?

Yes, what's the charge?

False pretences; a system
of writing begging letters.

(Police Officer) Presenting yourselves as widows
and orphans for the purpose of extracting money.

'I was deeply moved by your letter telling
me of your husband's tragic death.

Nothing can ease your grief,
but I hope the enclosed cheque

will help keep yourself and poor
little Wendy out of queer street.'

(HE TUTS)

Come along now. The car's waiting.

You're late to the post, Miss Benham.
You'll get your toes trodden on again.

I'll leave early, if I may, and post them opposite
the flat. There's never a crowd there.

Oh, very well.

Can I help you, sir?

Er, where do you keep the,
er, minor classics, please?

Far shelves.

-May I look?
-Certainly.

Leave that, sir, I'll see to it.

You're Melville Farr, aren't you?

Yes?

Step in here, will you, please?

How dare you come in my shop!

Can't you leave me
to mourn in peace?

I'm very sorry, only...

what have your troubles
to do with me?

You ruined my life.

Boy Barrett was happy here with me.

I'd have taken him into partnership.

He'd have had a home here.

You destroyed all that.

Do you realise what you did?

I realise everything.

Well, Hoey?

The money was taken down and
pocketed almost immediately, sir.

Come on.

There we are, sir. The money's
in the shoulder bag.

Well, you get back to the station,
get out of your Sunday suit.

-No use busting your cover.
-Right.

Are you sure you'd recognise the youth on
the Lambretta without his goggles, sir?

Recognise him anywhere.

Right.

Sandy? Sandy!

(Sandy Youth)
Hi. Don't come in for a minute, Bee.

-Did you collect?
-Yes. All here.

(Sandy Youth)
Okay.

Come in, Bee.

Hmm... look at this.

Fabulous shot!

Astonishing detail for a telescopic lens.
Look at that - sharp as a knife.

Only had half a minute to get it.

How stupid can they get?
Picking up a boy in the park...

Hmm...

It's a pity we're going
on a long vacation.

Still, never mind... we'll keep
the old gentleman on ice.

I'm sorry to be through with Farr.

I'd enjoy making that fine,
upstanding barrister jump.

Ten days and I'm off.

As usual, beautifully timed. A week's notice
to poor old Doe, and no attention drawn.

Er... by the way, are we going
to let our friend off the hook?

We'll give him that impression. I told him
to cover over. Should be here soon.

Of course, when we start our business
again we'll jerk on the line a bit...

show him the photostats... remind
him the hook's still there.

You really are a bit
odd, aren't you?

How do you mean?

Oh, I don't know... a sort of cross between
an avenging angel and Peeping Tom.

They disgust me. When I found out about
Mr Doe and that boy, I felt physically ill.

They're everywhere, everywhere you
turn! The police do nothing! Nothing!

Someone's got to make them
pay for their filthy blasphemy.

(VOICE OF BRIDIE)
We want you, get inside there!

(VOICE OF PHIP) What do you want?
What do you think you're doing?

(VOICE OF PHIP)
This is a private flat! Now, get out of here!

What's the matter?

(Miss Benham)
What is it? What does this mean?

These are marked notes.
You're both under arrest.

You'll be charged at the Station.

(Farr)
He's the one I told you about.

You won't testify to that in court.

Oh, yes, I will.

That'll make a fine swansong to a big career.
'Eminent lawyer's astonishing private life'.

A real ball for the national press.

That's enough.

Very tough, now, aren't we, when
it comes to protecting perverts?

I suppose the police force is riddled
with it, like everything else!

-Shut up.
-On your feet.

You're coming too.

He's all right, he's
one of their victims.

Hah! You hear that,
Phip? You're a victim!

I'm afraid you're barking up
the wrong tree there, mister.

It's a question of dog
eat dog, isn't it, Phip?

It wasn't my fault... I couldn't
pay them any more money...

and then they said,

if I gave the names of my friends, they'd
give me back a letter every time.

What do you think of our little Judas?
Revolting spectacle, isn't he?

-Come on.
-One moment, please.

Shoes.

Coat.

Ready.

It's the ungodly in great
power, all right...

and flourishing like
the green bay tree.

But we'll have our say
in court, though. (TUTS)

On your feet. Move.

Don't charge me under my real name.

I've got money coming to me, quite a bit of money.
I wouldn't mind sharing it, I'm not greedy, I'd sign a note!

I'll walk him downstairs, sir.

They're going to be very vicious
when they do get into court, sir.

Don't worry, Harris,
I shan't let you down.

No, sir.

What do you think they'll get?

With your evidence, the limit.

Barrett's death and that little hairdresser fellow,
Henry, are bound to weigh against them.

Well, I'm glad we've got them... but it seems tragic
that your career has to go west in the getting.

Somebody once called this law against
homosexuals 'the blackmailer's charter'.

Is that how you feel about it?

I'm a policeman, sir.
I don't have feelings.

Well, if you'll come with me now, sir, it'll be
helpful if we can have your statement right away.

Yes.

-Good evening, sir.
-Good evening.

You've just missed Mr Patterson.

Mr Patterson?

(Laura)
Mel?

Mel, I...

I didn't expect to see you here.

What did William want?

He came to tell me
you'd been to the police.

I see.

How long before the
case becomes public?

There'll be a remand at the Magistrates' hearing
tomorrow. I've got about, er, three weeks.

Three days, you mean.

You can't hope to keep
this out of the press.

It's not as though you can go into the
court as ‘Mr X', you're too well-known.

I don't want to.

I believe that if I go
into court as myself,

I can draw attention to
the fault in the existing law.

Knowing it'll destroy you utterly?

Yes.

We're going to need each
other very much, aren't we?

No, no... I'm going to
go through this alone.

I don't want you here
when it happens.

I started this thing; I've
hurt you terribly, I know that.

But I can just get through it to the end if
you're not here to face the final humiliations.

They're going to
call me filthy names.

My friends are going to lower their eyes,
and my enemies say they always guessed.

I don't want you a part
of that Roman holiday.

I love you too deeply for that.

Shall I come back?

You, erm...

must have time to...

you must have time to
decide that for yourself.

(CLEARS THROAT)

If you can...

...if you can bear to...

...afterwards, when it's all over
and the... shouting's stopped.

Because it's then that
I'm going to need you.

I'm going to need
you so desperately.

'Need'?

That's a bigger word than ‘love'.

Suddenly I feel very strong.

Strong enough?

I think so.