Original subtitles

George Radcliffe, please.

Silence.

I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give...

shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Mr. Radcliffe, you are a citizen of the United States, are you not?

Yes, I am.

And you have been living in London how many years?

About five.

During which you have been and still are...

an executive of the Jason Roote Air Freight Corporation.

An employee, Sales Manager.

Mr. Radcliffe, on the night of Wednesday 1st September...

you were in the offices of Jason Roote's Air Freight Corporation?

Yes.

You had been asked to work overtime?

No, I was doing personal work.

You had not been asked to work overtime?

Employees never worked overtime unless they volunteered.

It was company policy.

Did you know that evening an unusually large sum of cash...

would be turned in by drivers who had made COD collections that day?

Anyone who'd been in the main office during the day could've known.

Anyone? How, anyone?

Daily shipment information was posted on a bulletin board.

And anyone reading that board would've known...

that over *60000 in cash would be on the premises that evening?

Anyone who could decipher the code we use.

The man who posts those listings would have to know the code.

Yes.

Would you tell us who, on Wednesday 1st September...

was in charge of posting?

Donald Heath.

Would you speak a littlle louder?

Donald Heath.

So, on the evening of Wednesday 1st September...

there were three known persons on the premises.

Yourself, the deceased and Donald Heath...

an otherwise disinterested employee...

prone to error and absenteeism who, on that particular evening...

had volunteered to work overtime.

It had nothing to do with money...

I had to try and make it up, I was trying to catch up.

Silence.

Mr. Roote and yourself were aware of one another's presence?

Yes, he dropped in my office.

Did Donald Heath also drop in?

No.

No.

Mr. Radcliffe, you saw Donald Heath at his desk in the main office.

Yes.

Did you speak to him?

No. His desk was at the far end...

and when I passed through, he was bent over as if...

You did not pause as you passed?

No, I went right to my office. I'd run out to get a sandwich.

I knew I wouldn't be gettling home till pretty late.

As I was coming back, I remembered I hadn't called my wife...

to say I wouldn't be home for dinner.

I wanted to call her quickly, to tell her to eat and to apologise.

As I started dialling, I heard Roote call me.

Is that you, Cliff?

It could not have been Donald Heath?

He wouldn't call me Cliff.

Martha, guess who didn't come home for dinner tonight?

I have to work over my market reports from the States.

One of these days you'll lose your pants.

Not me, I use my wife's money.

You Americans have no scruples about your wives going without pants.

I don't know. A couple of hours, maybe less than that.

I always like you to wait up.

Bye.

Had your supper?

I had a sandwich.

I had to wait for those CODs.

Did they come?

Would you like to help me count them?

See how it feels to stand in cash up to your...

Don't rub my nose in it.

Come in and have a drink before you go.

Okay.

Hey.

Hey!

Heath!

Help!

Help, officer!

Stop him, he killed a man!

Officer!

You pursued the man, you caught him.

Thank you, Mr. Radcliffe.

Mr. Radcliffe, when you came upon Mr. Heath...

down in the boiler room, did he have anything in his hands?

Yes.

Would you tell the court?

A bottlle.

He was not holding a satchel containing *60000?

No.

Thank you.

No doubt you've become aware during the trial...

that the boiler room was searched and searched again and again...

but neither the satchel nor the *60000 were ever found.

Yes.

Yet you are certain the man you saw...

run from the office of the deceased, a satchel in his hand...

and the man you came upon concealed in the boiler room...

a bottlle in his hand...

you are absolutely certain that these were one and the same man?

Yes.

Please, think carefully. You could in no way be mistaken?

There was no one else there. The officer and I made sure of that.

I don't know what happened to the money.

Forgive me. I'd no intention of ruffling you.

But do you not think it possible that the man with the satchel...

entered the boiler room and went out through another exit...

while Heath had been down there...

for the whole time of the robbery and the murder?

Might not such an explanation be possible?

No.

Well, you may as well step down.

You didn't have to come, Martha.

The jury is taking a long time.

It's the money that's worrying them.

Even in the Old Bailey you can't get away from money worries.

I wonder what he did with it.

Why doesn't he give it up? It might mean his life.

It's the only thing that could make a man give up that kind of money.

Your shoulder?

Quite a deal. This could be it, Martha.

Who is he?

My future partner.

If nothing goes wrong.

Yes, sir, we have. We find the defendant...

guilty.

No.

No, I swear to God.

You've got it all wrong. Radcliffe!

Radcliffe! God in Heaven, Radcliffe!

Please, tell them the truth. You know I didn't do it.

- You know. - Silence.

Sorry.

Tell them, Radcliffe. It wasn't me. It must've been you.

It was you, Radcliffe!

I didn't do it, it was him. He did it!

You did it, Radcliffe!

It was you, Radcliffe!

Cliff, let's go home.

Martha, if you don't mind, I want to take a look at something. I...

I want you to see it too.

Now, there it is.

That whole string of buildings beginning with the dark one...

all the way over to where that white ship is.

That's what I meant when I said "quite a deal".

It now belongs to International Freight Forwarding...

but if we can pull off this deal...

We?

Morris Brooke, the fellow I talked with in court today.

He's in a position to...

He can take over International, but he needs someone to put up...

Wait here a minute, will you?

What do you want?

Why do you ask?

You were following me. You were in Court.

Yes, I have been following you.

Why?

Simply drawn, Mr. Radcliffe. Irresistibly.

What are you?

That warms it.

It's been years since anyone cared enough about Jerry Clay to ask.

I'm a counsellor-at-law. Take it, it's worthless.

The bar "retired" me.

What do you want?

To thank you for your superb performance in court today.

How admirably you told your tale...

standing there like truth carved in brass.

No. My interest is purely professional.

They can't retire a man's interest. No, that they cannot, Mr. Radcliffe.

Reduce me to earning an honest living, as a handyman...

they can do. But reduce my interest in...

In what?

What does a man do, after he condemns another to life imprisonment?

Does he take tea? Go to church? Make love?

I've this compulsion to watch a man's behaviour at such a time.

You might call me an intellectual peeping tom.

Cliff!

Some kind of a nut! Did you hear what he said?

You looked about to kill him. What did he say?

Nothing.

You're cold?

I'm warm now, with your arms around me.

Are you tired of living the way we live?

No.

You don't mind always going without everything?

I have some things.

We're talking about different kinds of having.

I've never minded being without what you call everything.

I have.

Yes, I know.

It's almost over.

This being without.

Thanks to International and Morris Brooke.

Do you know how long I've been waiting for this chance?

All those years in the States after the war with nothing happening.

Coming over here and more nothing.

That man Brooke.

You said he needs someone with a certain amount of money?

And a knowledge of the freight business.

You have the knowledge.

And the money. I haven't been playing the stock market...

just to be playing with something.

Has something good happened?

I've made a killing.

I've put your plane ticket in your briefcase.

As usual, Mr. Colettle will meet you at Orly.

The conference is at 25 Rue d'Astarge.

I've put it in your notebook, along with some other reminders.

What's this name?

Castor. As in oil.

He's the bandit who's making this air freight sector meeting necessary.

I put "skids" beside his name, meaning put them under him...

before he undersells you and all your competitors.

Good evening, sir.

Thank you very much, sir.

Incidentally, you were dissatisfied with your hotel last year.

No, the year before. Was that just because Mrs. Radcliffe wasn't along?

How do you remember every littlle thing I tell you?

You pay me well. Mrs. Radcliffe isn't going?

I'll just be gone a couple of days.

I didn't leave you a reminder to send her flowers.

You don't have to remind me to do that.

I know.

I have that kind of wife.

She has that kind of husband.

Happy night out, darling.

Well, have I forgottlen one of our anniversaries?

Miss Osborne wouldn't let you.

I gave her a complete list, the very day you hired her.

I add to it from time to time.

You look mighty special tonight. Something on?

No, pure lark. Care to indulge me?

Is that a crow's foot near your left eye?

Take me somewhere elegant and dim and tell me it isn't.

I was kidding about the crow's foot but you do look a littlle...

Are you upset underneath all that finery?

Oh, no. No, no.

I'll wait until you finish up, then we'll go for dinner...

Then ride home. Relax and read about world tension...

I've got to go through this before we leave.

Miss Osborne...

Cliff. Have you read this story?

I haven't seen the news.

They've been talking about it on TV all day.

They've even shown films of the place it was found abandoned.

What was found?

A mailbag, full of lettlers.

One of the bags stolen in that train robbery five years ago, remember?

The bag was untouched.

They assume the thieves hid it and never got back to it.

Do you know what the postal authorities did?

The lettlers were all perfect, unopened.

They simply marked them "delayed" and sent them on.

Very British. Miss Osborne, send a wire to the Merchant Bank...

Cliff.

One of those lettlers was for you.

Did you bring it?

No.

Why not?

Are you going to be angry?

Because you've opened it?

Cliff, I resisted for hours, but there it was...

and the newscasters were drumming about it...

and it was addressed to our old place.

What was it, a bill?

No. No, it was very personal.

Check that, before you claim it's been paid. I may be mistaken.

It was about the murder, Jason Roote's murder.

Where is it?

I threw it away.

Where?

I thought the first thing you would ask is why?

In the waste basket in your room.

Alright, why?

Because of what it said.

What did it say, Martha?

"Radcliffe, you killed Jason Roote.

I have no feelings for Heath, let him rot...

but I do feel for that *60000 you helped yourself to.

My feeling should be worth *30000...

get it to me within 10 days or I will go to the police. "

Signed by Jeremy Clay, Box 211, London.

I think you believe it.

Cliff, don't even joke. It's nothing but blackmail.

Who's the clown that found the mailbag?

He threatened to go to the police if he didn't hear from you...

but you never got the lettler so he couldn't...

and he obviously didn't go to the police.

He didn't write again or call, did he?

This is really bothering you, isn't it?

No, no.

Well, yes, a littlle bit.

I'm not in the habit of gettling lettlers...

saying my husband is a thief and a murderer.

You didn't receive this one.

Anyway, I figured out the dates, they prove that it isn't true.

The trial was six years ago, the robbery, five.

So, the lettler was writtlen a year after the trial.

If this blackmailer knew about you, why did he wait so long?

If he knew I was a thief and a murderer?

Cliff, please! He waited because at the time of the trial...

you had nothing to be blackmailed for!

There was no reason to think you'd stolen the money.

And killed Roote.

Then, he must have read about you and Morris buying out International...

and figured...

And figured I'd mourned Roote...

then used his cash to buy this big plush world we live in.

It was about a year after the trial, wasn't it Martha?

And they never did find the money...

and that puts me smack in the middle of one hell of a coincidence.

Yes Cliff, but that's all it is, isn't it? A coincidence.

A hell of a coincidence.

Dinner at the club all right?

Yes, of course.

Will we have to wait?

Your usual table is...

I'm sorry we didn't expect you tonight.

Would 35 minutes do?

We'll wait in the bar.

Would you care to...

Thank you.

The usual.

You're not going to let a lettler spoil your dinner, are you?

Let's not talk about it anymore.

I threw away the lettler, you got rid of the spool...

I think we'd bettler go home and talk more about it.

Mr. Radcliffe.

The drinks.

Well, hi!

Your old friend Mrs. Harris would love you to join us...

at the dark end of the bar. I'm St John.

Lilly's here.

We were just...

Let's say hello, she'd be awfully hurt...

Shattlered! But never show it.

She shattlers only internally like a mind.

Darling!

Nobody told me you two were free tonight!

How are things in paradise?

Did you meet my Mr. St John?

Manfridi, these are my Radcliffes George and Martha, buy them drinks.

We have...

Manny's my latest young man.

I support him while he writes his ponderous plays...

in return he keeps me from going old...

while my husband does the diplomatic circuit.

Have you heard from him lately?

Only by cheque. Isn't it terrible of me?

I love having everyone suspect everything.

Do you think I do it to feel superior?

Knowing I'm innocent...

and watching all those inferior people suspect the worst.

Suspicious people are inferior, aren't they?

Not all, not to begin with anyway.

Believe it or not, I'm innocent.

I've just been gettling Manny to write...

one of those angry dramas about young people...

fighting out problems on a mussed bed.

I deplore anger!

The most I allow myself is petulance. Admittledly, it's feminine...

but feminine emotions are easier to understand.

Don't you agree, Mr. Radcliffe?

I don't know, my wife doesn't get emotional often.

Be quiet, Manny, buy me a drink.

Should we dine together? Just the four of us?

We were just on our way home.

Just the three of us.

Cliff's going to Paris in the morning.

Your not going?

No.

Well, we'll do a bit of shopping together. I'll call for you at 10.

While we're shopping you can tell me about all this.

Night.

Going already?

Good night, Mr. Saint John.

St John.

Trouble in paradise...

Why didn't you call me as soon as you read it?

Read what, Cliff?

That lettler that accuses me...

Really! I'd forgottlen all about it.

You had the lettler memorised you must've read it over and over.

Why didn't you call me?

I didn't think I should read a thing like that over the phone.

Martha, look at me.

Look. Do you really think...?

Of course not.

You're my husband and I love you. You couldn't be a murderer!

Because you love me?

I couldn't love you, if you were guilty.

You couldn't think I was guilty, if you loved me.

I love you!

Good evening, Betty.

Martha.

The lettler gave you a shock.

If not, you'd have called and we'd have laughed...

Yes, I know.

That's the way I wanted to feel. I'm sorry.

It wasn't funny. If anyone got hold of it...

No one will, let's never mention it again, let's forget it.

No, we won't forget it. Until your convinced that it's a rottlen...

I am convinced. You convinced me.

Martha. This whole business has been dead for years.

Even the fellow who wrote the lettler never followed it through.

It's all dead. You've got to kill it too.

Should I go to the police about it?

Blackmailers have a terrible edge.

Whatever they say, everybody believes it just a littlle bit.

What would that suspicion do to me?

My business, my life, everything...

I'm not going to let it happen. Nobody's going to let that happen.

Understand that.

Martha.

Cliff, you have to be up early.

You know how we are when we start talking.

All at once it's morning.

We never did get around to dinner.

I'm not hungry.

Why don't I bring up some sandwiches we'll sit and talk and...

No. Cliff, please I...

I can't.

I can't believe this.

We've been married too many years, we know everything about each other.

Could a woman live with a man sleep with him...

and not know he's a murderer?

Do murderer's make love differently?

Cliff.

Cliff, I'm sorry.

And your right.

I'd know, somehow.

Come to bed.

If you doubt me now, you've doubted me for a long time.

Maybe, since I made all that money.

Maybe before that, since the trial.

No.

George Radcliffe, please.

What's the mattler, Martha?

Nothing.

Nothing.

I have that work to finish up.

I think I'll sleep in the study so I won't disturb you.

Jeremy Clay. Clay, Clay...

Information? Do you have a listing for a Jeremy Clay?

Thank you for the information. Good night.

You've cut yourself.

Why don't you use an electric razor?

My father gave me this on my 13th birthday.

Did you need it at that age?

I've always more than my share of those male things, hormones.

Yes, I've noticed that often.

Anyone hearing us make this small talk would think we'd slept together.

Are you packed?

Last night.

Didn't you work?

I'll try on the plane.

I didn't go to sleep right away, I almost called you...

but I thought you were working. I heard you on the phone.

You want to know who I called, don't you?

I wanted to last night. I'm not very proud of it.

You're acting like a wife who has just begun to suspect a mistress.

Only your suspicions are worse.

My suspicions?

Aren't you? Suspicious?

I don't know. If I'm acting like I am...

it must mean I am. At least a littlle.

You can't be a littlle suspicious.

It's like virginity, you either are, or aren't.

I'll cancel my shopping and go to Paris. I want to be with you.

No, you need a few days alone to think.

But I don't want to.

Well, do.

And before I get back have it all straight in your mind.

I will, Cliff.

I don't know, but you bettler try.

I don't want to have to prove anything. I want you to believe me.

I don't need proof.

Sometimes, we all need proof.

Even if we shouldn't.

Will you throw that in my bag?

Of course you haven't told me the whole thing, I don't blame you.

Heaven knows, I talk.

But I think the last place in the world to allow a man to go off to...

even when relations aren't strained, is Paris.

Of course, being a woman, all I know about that side of Paris...

is what men tell me. But if I had a husband like George...

If I even knew a man like George, I'd be on the next plane.

George is in that taxi, Martha.

Please don't play pranks.

Pranks?

George is in Paris.

I saw him in that taxi. No Martha, George is not in Paris.

What do you want?

Who gave you the right to come barging in?

I was given this address for Jeremy Clay.

By whom, may I ask?

Someone helpful.

Pity we can't all be that way, helpful.

I can help you.

Follow me.

Thank you.

Jim?

I'm sorry I can't ask you to sit down.

Do you know where I can find Jeremy Clay?

I said I did, didn't I?

Sit on my half of the bed.

You see why my wife left me?

She said she didn't mind going without board...

but at her age, she wasn't going without bed!

Lusty creature!

Look, I'm late...

Bibliomania, that's what I have.

Where can I find Jeremy Clay?

We'll come to that later. I started my collection with Bibles...

and then worked from holy selectivity...

all the way down to what is known as books of an unexpurgated nature.

The kind that nice folk think you can only buy in Paris.

Which brings me to Mr. Clay.

He had a strong fancy for such literature.

When he lived here, he used to pop in and leaf through them.

Where is he now?

Finally married. Not wisely, but fairly well.

The woman who owns a bookshop, the next street across the road.

Lovely hot chestnuts!

You wanted to see me?

I just wondered if Mr. Radcliffe got off all right.

He seemed to.

Was his plane on time?

Yes, I think so.

Did you see him board the plane?

No, I let him off at the check-in.

Oh, yes. Thank you, Jim.

Taxi!

London Airport, quick!

Mr. Radcliffe, calling from Paris.

All right, Betty. I'll take it.

Hello, Cliff.

No, I was awake.

How does Paris feel?

You're the sort who should never go to Paris without a woman.

Yes, of course I miss you tonight. I missed you today too.

It's probably only one of Lily's pranks, but...

she said she saw you in a taxi today, in town.

You think Lily would play a prank?

Are you still on, Martha?

I've got to get this conference started. I'll call in the morning.

Cliff, wait.

I can't seem to simply ask you directly...

if you were in London today.

I'll call you in the morning. Good night.

Yes, Betty?

That gentleman is here, madam, Mr. Radcliffe's associate.

Mr. Brooke?

Yes, madam.

I'm sorry to barge in without calling.

I know you prefer to respect the formalities.

Why are you in London?

Business.

It must be vital to pry you out of New York.

Very vital.

George is in Paris.

I know. Miss, take my bags to the guest room, please.

These jet flights are fast and practical...

but they do tend rather to wind one up.

My hat and coat, please.

Would you care to unwind me, Martha? A drink would help.

When you've aired the guest room would you bring my robe?

Yes, madam.

Some people manifest their chilliness the way others generate their heat.

You're the perfect hostess.

Even if you don't care for a guest, you remember what he drinks.

How did you know George was in Paris?

He told me.

Last night, when he called?

Did he call me last night?

How did you first meet George?

How? I'm not quite sure I remember. Quite naturally, I suppose.

I'm a promoter and George, a gambler.

It was natural we'd meet sometime, someplace.

When?

Do you mean the precise day?

Yes.

The day I had something grand to promote...

and George had something grand to gamble with.

You'd make a very poor witness. You never answer directly.

Am I supposed to be in the witness box?

I bettler go to bed.

What a lovely way to end a conversation.

A perfect hostess would show me to her room.

I'd rather not be perfect.

You can't help it.

Now, please, Morris.

I think you enjoy it.

What?

Treating me with passionate animosity.

You make even animosity sound provocative. Come on.

You needn't fawn over me, but you might show a glimmer of gratitude.

After all, I took George by the hand and led him into the plush life.

I cannot imagine anyone leading George by the hand.

Not now, perhaps. But once, he was a desperate fellow.

You mean before the murder?

Whose murder, dear?

Jason Roote.

There are many ways a woman can show gratitude.

Morris, please stop it.

I'm after a bit of sweetening. My drink, I mean.

You know, if I told Cliff...

He'd smack my hand.

He'd kill you.

George?

Come to think of it, he did once say he wouldn't hesitate to kill me...

if I double crossed him in our deal at International.

But he wouldn't do it over anything as casual as passion.

Excuse me, madam.

Here's your armour.

I thought...

That meeting can be finished anytime.

This has to be settlled now, Martha. Finished.

That's why I came back.

I feel so bad.

Oh, I don't feel so bad now.

I was in London.

I don't care.

I was looking for Clay, to make him...

Don't talk.

To make him admit he was lying.

You know he was.

Admit it to you.

Did you find him?

He wasn't there.

You'd like to hear it from him.

That's the kind of proof that would convince you.

No. I feel convinced, Cliff.

I feel convinced, now.

That lettler wasn't enough to do this to you, Martha.

You've always thought I killed Roote.

No. No, I...

Please, don't move away.

I won't. If you don't want me to.

I love to hold onto you, Cliff.

I love you.

You always have.

I always will.

I promised.

That first time...

when we rented the littlle cottlage in East Hampton.

West.

Was it West?

May I help you?

Would I be permittled to look at the files of a murder trial?

If you give me the details...

This lever will adjust the focus for you.

And to raise the columns, use this dial on the left.

You did not see Mr. Radcliffe return to the office?

No, that part must be like he said. He must have gone past while I was...

While you were doing what, Mr. Heath?

Searching in my desk for a medicine bottle.

You kept medicine in your desk?

Have you a recurrent illness, Mr. Heath?

Yes.

I'm an alcoholic.

And in your medicine bottlle, you kept...?

Whisky. I'm not trying to deny...

No. You seem to be trying to build your defence on your alcoholism.

- You found the bottlle? - Yes.

- And? - I knew Mr. Roote was in his office.

- Indeed. - But, I had to...

I couldn't go on and work my overtime without at least...

I didn't want to be seen by Mr. Roote...

- So I did like always. - Which is?

I slipped out and went down to the boiler room.

Before Mr. Roote was killed.

Of course, no one saw you slip out before Mr. Roote was...

I don't know. Maybe somebody did.

Maybe Mr. Radcliffe did. He saw me at my desk.

Maybe he saw me slip out before the murder.

Mr. Heath.

Throughout my questioning and that of your own counsel...

you have deliberately and blatantly attlempted...

to cast suspicion on George Radcliffe.

He was up in the offices. I was down in the boiler room.

We all know he was in the offices.

We also know that Mr. Radcliffe and a police officer...

pursued you to the boiler room.

Then he was chasing someone else, not me.

Somebody he knew, maybe. Maybe an accomplice.

That must be it. Him and this other man...

Mr. Heath, are you asking this court...

to even consider that George Radcliffe...

could be involved in a plot to rob and murder...

a great friend, and as we heard...

a friendly benefactor?

Mr. Heath. After observing this inhuman, immoral effort...

you're making to save your neck...

I doubt if there remains in court one person...

who can believe in your protested innocence.

I can.

Yes?

Mrs. Heath?

May I come in?

I thought I'd never forget your face. Any of those faces.

Funny how I almost did.

What do you want?

Please, may I?

I thought nothing could brighten this place except Donald walking in.

Free, cleared.

But I was wrong.

You brighten it.

With your clothes, your hair...

your complexion and your jewellery.

Mrs. Heath...

How did you find me?

The... The welfare people.

I didn't live here at the time of the trial.

We had a nice littlle place in Stretham.

Donald's never seen me here.

Would you like your husband to see you in a place like this?

What do you want?

I want...

I want you to tell me something.

As a favour?

No, I'll pay.

What do you want me to tell you?

The truth.

You can't buy that.

I know.

Want some tea?

I always drink tea when I feel like being sick.

Donald tried to keep things down with whisky.

Your husband is in prison. He may never get out...

If you would just tell me...

I mean, if you know...

and believe me when I swear I'll never tell anyone...

If you'd just tell me...

What?

Your husband. Was he...?

Was he what?

I'm sorry, I can't seem to...

Can't seem to be able to say it?

Why can't you ask me that simple question?

Was my husband guilty?

What does it do to you to come here and ask me that?

Does it make you want to be sick?

I'm sorry...

What's going on? Why do you come here asking questions?

Something opened up an old sore?

I have no...

You were in court. You heard everything.

You saw. You saw my husband weep.

Those tears washed away what was left of his manhood.

They also washed him clean. Innocent.

Women know innocence.

Your husband didn't weep. He sweated a littlle.

And sweat doesn't clean.

You knew even then that he was guilty.

Women know guilt too, you know.

You've lived with it all these years, why can't you go on?

It never even crossed my...

mind.

They said they'd review his sentence if he told them where the money is.

Do you think he'd let us live in this garbage pit...

if he had that money? Do you think he likes jail?

If he knew where the money was, if he could touch it...

he'd tell.

Donald would tell.

He's cured, you know, of that drinking business.

He's got a half nice colour to his face.

Like when I first knew him.

Your husband's got a nice colour to his face all the time.

The money he's got.

You can buy sunshine. Even in London.

What are you throwing away, Lucy?

You have to believe your husband is innocent, don't you?

You have to blame someone else.

I blame the rats. Here, look.

Hungry rats always get the bait without gettling caught.

I said you couldn't buy the truth. I meant you could have it free.

Now you've got your truth, what will you do with it?

Drink it down and sleep it away at night?

You think drink will kill it? Or love? Try it.

Lie in his arms, let him love you. Let him touch you with his hands.

Murderer's hands!

Let him kill the truth the way he killed Jason Roote...

and my Donald.

And maybe someday he'll kill you too.

Where've you been? What are you doing in this place?

Martha! What are you doing?

Cliff, I... She looked so terrible, I...

So you wrote out a cheque?

How would this look if it got into the wrong hands?

Listen. Don't you realise, my testimony sent Heath to prison?

Now, I give his wife money. What kind of money?

Conscience? Hush? What kind?

What kind do you have?

This could ruin us.

What kind of money? Tell me, where did you get that money?

We'll talk about this at home.

No.

Right here. Now.

Cliff, where?

I told you, I made a killing.

I know that phrase. Down the years it's made bad dreams.

In the stock market. I explained it to you.

That day, by the river. The day I showed you International.

Yes, I remember, the day of the trial...

you explained. Yes, I know.

You didn't understand?

Yes, I...

No. Oh, Cliff, I don't understand stocks and take-overs.

Did you explain? What did you explain? Tell me.

I have the papers at home.

Notes, receipts... I'll show you how I did it.

Tell me.

I borrowed. I bought. It was a gamble.

I put us in hock for the rest of our lives, Martha...

on a tip from a man I'd never even seen...

I'd only talked to him by phone. I had to take the chance.

Brooke was waving that deal in front of me. I needed a lot of money.

It was a gamble, nothing more.

It sounds so...

Why can't I believe you?

You still can't?

Take me home. Show me the papers, the receipts, anything.

I wish I didn't have to be shown, but...

I hope I can find them.

Maybe they're in my office, in the files.

Then just take me home.

I'll get them tomorrow.

Yes, tomorrow.

Suppose I can't find those papers?

Well, we'll just forget the whole thing, won't we?

Will you?

No.

What will you do?

I don't know.

I know.

You'll go on searching, talking to people like Mrs. Heath...

maybe even the police.

You'll kick up enough suspicion to get the case reviewed.

Nobody can prove I killed Jason...

but while they're trying, I'll be destroyed.

We'll be destroyed.

I just can't let you do that.

I needed that drive.

The old American cure-all, a long drive in the country.

Want to stretch your legs?

Come on, feels good.

No, I'm all right, Cliff.

Stretch them for me.

Come on, Martha.

We never did buy that cottlage in East Hampton.

West.

Remember how we wanted to own it?

A place to run to if we ever had to run.

Let's go home.

There's no hurry.

No, I want to.

We're doing shocking things to your liquor supply. Come and help us.

Hope you saved one for me.

Where's Martha?

Lily...

No, George, you may not come with me.

Cliff?

It's Lily.

Lily. Come in.

Locked bedrooms always make me feel guilty.

Are you all right?

Yes, I'm just tired.

You're not going to bed at this hour, are you?

No, I'm going to soak.

I...

I suppose I didn't see George in a taxi after all.

Did I?

It was George.

You go soak. I'll sit somewhere and we'll talk.

I don't feel like talking.

That psychoanalyst I went to in '35, you didn't know me then...

he always said, when you don't feel like talking...

I don't remember his exact words, but he implied a fear of talking...

had something to do with a fear of giving, sexually that is.

Do you suspect George of giving?

No. Taking.

Oh. Martha, what is wrong?

I don't know. Me, I suppose.

If you're all ready to blame yourself I know exactly what's wrong...

but it isn't necessarily true, you know...

that it's always the wife's fault if the husband strays...

even some unmarried men stray. Are you sure?

No.

You only suspect?

Yes.

Suspicion. The black plague of our middle years.

The things that can make you love men!

What? Oh.

It's just a thing that grows between a man and a woman who live together.

What are you talking about?

His razor. I always wash it for him.

But I left in such a hurry this morning.

Well, there is one consolation.

Eventually, whatever they're doing...

and regardless of whomsoever they may be doing it with...

it's over.

Yes, it must be nice to have it over with.

Do you mind?

You'd like me to go?

You're wonderful, Lil.

I'll call you in the morning.

All right.

Perhaps, even before morning.

Run out of girl talk?

Run along and say our goodbyes to George, Manny.

He's gone. Taken the other fellow to the airport.

You got it straightened out?

Did my best.

Thanks.

So, nothing can hurt us?

Nothing ordinary could hurt us.

Anything out of the ordinary, prevent.

I didn't hear you come in.

Oh, Cliff, help me.

How?

Help me.

How?

I feel in the middle of some place high and empty.

I'm frightened.

I've always been so closed in, Cliff.

I've always had strong arms around me. Even you.

We didn't even know each other and you put your arms around me...

and all these years you've never taken them away...

right from that moment until now.

They're still around you, Martha.

No.

No, I've moved out of them.

I can't find those papers. I must've left them at the office.

Never mind, Cliff.

You don't want to see them?

I don't care.

I don't want to care about anything.

A littlle while ago...

for just a moment...

I even thought I might kill myself.

Stop it!

I know you, Martha.

You couldn't.

That wouldn't make things right and you have to have things right.

You want Donald Heath free and the real murderer put away...

and you think I'm the real murderer.

So you won't slit your wrists, you'll turn me in.

I don't think I could.

Not tonight. Maybe not for a year, but it'll come.

Do you expect me to live with that?

I don't think I could turn you in even if I knew for certain.

I'd find some way to live with it.

Maybe you can live with it, I can't.

Then I'll just have to find out for certain.

How? Asking questions...

raking things up like a ghoul in a graveyard? Forget it.

I can't.

Martha. You don't know about murderers.

Should I?

What if Heath is innocent?

That means the real murderer has got away with it for six years.

Do you think he'll let someone rake it up?

Do you think he'll let you...?

How do you suppose he'll protect his freedom?

He'll kill me.

Yes?

Can I help you, madam?

Mr. Is Mr. Clay here? Jeremy Clay?

In the back. Pay me when you leave.

Thank you.

Come in.

I'm Martha Radcliffe.

We received your lettler.

After all these years, you've decided to do something?

We've only just received it. It was in that stolen mail bag.

I thought he didn't answer because he was brassy...

calling my bluff and all that. He never even received it.

That takes the bun.

It was a lie, wasn't it? Your lettler. Blackmail.

Does he intend doing anything about it?

Somebody has to do something. Blackmail is a vicious crime.

Punishable by law.

But you know what, Mrs. Radcliffe?

I don't think your husband is going to tell on me.

Do you plan to?

Yes.

Then I shall be punished. Not only for blackmail...

but also for withholding evidence.

You see, I didn't come forward at the trial, as the saying goes.

I knew the truth.

I couldn't have attlempted blackmail otherwise, could I?

What truth?

Your husband murdered Jason Roote.

That's why I was afraid to press him.

One is careful about harassing a murderer.

Oh, Cliff...

I admit many times I was tempted to press him.

I could've used the money.

I even strolled by that cosy cottlage of yours in Regent's Park.

I paused by the gate, looking, pettling the brass gargoyles...

Brass. Everything about your husband is brass.

Does he know you're here?

No, he's left.

Left you? Left you alone with all this terrible knowledge?

I don't believe you.

Think clearly.

If I'm arrested for blackmail, he'll be arrested for murder.

I'll tell them everything.

They won't believe you, any more than I.

Everything, in splendid detail. Exactly how he did it.

Exactly how I saw him do it.

You saw him do it?

I'd no right to be there.

I didn't work there anymore.

They were glad of me, at first.

After all, a former lawyer does make a rather elegant handyman.

You were there?

They were glad of me. Until they caught me helping myself...

to that fine store of bourbon whisky Mr. Roote kept in his office...

then they had to let me go.

Now and again, I'd steal back, at night.

Not that I ever drank the stuff.

I merely sold it and spent the money on more exotic vices.

And you let them convict an innocent man?

You'd rather I let them convict your husband?

I did feel a twinge for poor Heath.

He told the truth in court.

Pity the truth always sounds so untrue.

If he hadn't been so mad for a drink, he might've had me for a witness.

As I was stealing up the stairway he was stealing down.

Come in for a drink when you've finished.

Now, what do you do?

I've already thought of killing myself.

It seemed the easy way.

To lie down in burning water...

they say you don't feel the sharp edge.

Now, that is morbid.

Why not forget it all, including my lettler?

I've no heart to rot in jail.

I don't imagine Mr. Brass has either. Be thankful I didn't come forward.

You should have. It would've all been over by now.

But I didn't. And we've all lived happily ever after.

We'll continue to, won't we?

Or won't we?

Mr. Radcliffe, Mrs. Radcliffe called several times.

Get me on a plane to New York. Tonight, if possible.

Mr. Radcliffe, your wife. It sounded urgent.

Yes? Oh, yes, he did, just this moment.

It's Mrs. Radcliffe.

Martha?

And I believe him.

You called me back to say that?

I couldn't not say it, Cliff.

Now Clay has you convinced I'm a murderer...

you think you can live with it.

I want to.

I married all of you, Cliff.

I'll never mention it again.

I'll never even think of it.

No?

I'll put it away, wherever people put things like this...

wherever these things are hidden.

Of course, you'll never tell anybody.

No, never.

Cliff, I swear.

Cliff, stay!

How can a man live with a wife who might turn him...

any time she feels like it?

Cliff. Cliff, I had to believe Clay.

He wasn't lying. He wouldn't admit being there just to build up a lie.

He said he was there?

Yes.

He saw it happen.

That's unfortunate for him.

He bends it into the net! One up to Wolves in the 15th minute.

Hello, Lily.

Lily, I'll call you back.

I came back.

Yes, I knew you would.

I can't leave things like this. There's just too much to lose.

Yes.

You look very tired. Why don't you go to bed?

Have some hot milk, or a pill...

really put you under.

I don't need anything, Cliff.

I'm too tired to resist.

All right.

Good night, Cliff.

Coming up?

Cliff?

Cliff?

Oh, Cliff, I'm so sorry.

It breaks my heart...

Telling you I was there was as good as saying I killed Roote.

Sooner or later, you'd see.

Then where would I be?

Relax. This is the easy way.

Remember? You said, "Lie down in burning water... "

Lord, I wonder if women get naked when kill themselves this way.

Don't tense.

There. I told you too much today.

I always tell too much.

Let me get them underwater...

No pain...

Afterwards, the clothes... Afterwards.

Talk!

I can't.

Talk you...

She knew.

I told her I was there.

I'd gottlen away with murder for years, but I was free.

I never got a penny out of it.

Never a penny, but I was free.

I tried to hide the money.

When you chased me, I threw it behind the boiler.

I threw it, but I missed.

God, I always miss.

The money burnt into ashes...

in the boiler. In the boiler...

I was so sure it was Heath.

I've condemned the wrong man.

So did I.

Ladies and gentlemen, you now know who killed Jason Roote.

Please do not reveal this secret to anyone.