All language subtitles for Cold.Eyes.Of.Fear.1971.1080p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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(CLOCK TICKING)

(AUDIBLE CLICK)

(GASPING)

(WOMAN WHIMPERING)

No...

(MAN CHUCKLING)

- (MAN ROARING)
- (WOMAN GASPING)

(GASPING)

(WHIMPERING)

MAN:
Get up.

(WOMAN WHIMPERING)

(GASPING)

(MOANING)

(MOANING)

(MAN GROANING)

(APPLAUSE)

MAN: Now, that's what
I call a performance!

- Marvellous!
- Didn't I tell you? Yeah!

There's another one.

You should see the little one, huh?
Two Swedes make love to a midget.

Of course, for me, it, er...

I suppose, for you,
it's something new, the midget move...

- Eh? Cheers!
- Cheers!

MAN: How about we put on
a show of our own, eh?

- (DRINK SPILLING)
- (GASPING)

Oh, I really am so sorry. I...

Idiot!
I paid thirty-five pounds for it.

I, er... A little warm water,
I'm sure, will do the trick.

Well, I, er...

- The ladies' room's this way.
- Sure, sure.

- Oh...
- Bye.

(CAR HORNS HONKING)

- (ANNA LAUGHING)
- Hurry, I think he's caught on.

- Which way?
- This way.

Wait for me, you bleeders!
Anna!

Where is she going,
the silly old bitch?

Anna?

Where the devil are ya?
Anna!

- (ANNA GIGGLING)
- Ssh!

Worthless slut!

I'll wring her little neck,
I will.

Now, look. He's going.
(CHUCKLING)

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Not now. Now, let's go.

Oh, yes, of course.

No, Inspector.

- It's been pretty quiet up till now.
- You're just the man I was looking for.

- Here, just a minute, sir.
- Of course, take your time.

No trace of the car either, sir.
Stopped all suspects.

- INSPECTOR: Thank you. Roger.
- Roger.

You were saying, sir?

I was looking for a short...

She was with me!
Now, I wouldn't want some drunk to...

Anna!

(LAUGHING)
I saw you.

It's all right.
I'll keep an eye out for her, eh?

- You do it.
- Right.

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

- No.
- Oh, all right. Come on.

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

- Now, yes.
- Now, yes? Okay.

Oh, come now, Hawkins.
Don't be such a bore.

I'm sure you must have
some lady friend pining away,

anxiously waiting for you
to rush into her arms.

Yes, Master Peter.
I quite understand, but...

- But you'll do it?
- Er... Don't you think...?

- I'll be right over.
- Oh, no, sir.

I mean, the judge
expects me to stay in.

He's working late tonight, Hawkins.
No need to worry, really.

He won't hear of it, I assure you.
I need to be alone.

- You do understand, don't you?
- Yes, Master Peter, of course. But...

Supposing that your uncle
does hear of it? Then, I would...

- Thanks, old man.
- (CALL CUTTING OFF)

- (SIGHING)
- (DOOR OPENING)

(GASPING)

ANNA:
Hey, what is this?

PETER:
Hang on.

(GATE CREAKING)

Damn gate's always closed.

(CAR DOOR CLOSING)

(CAR DOOR CLOSING)

ANNA:
Mamma mia!

PETER: I think it's best
we go through the back door.

ANNA:
Si, si.

PETER:
Come on.

Through here.

- Ma...
- Ssh!

Where are we going?

Come.

ANNA: Oh!
Whose house is this?

PETER: It's a nice,
quiet place. You'll see.

I think this is it,
through here.

ANNA:
You think?

Listen. Do you know
where you're going, or not?

PETER: Oh, come on, now.
What are you afraid of?

ANNA:
Oh, un momento.

PETER:
Now, let's see...

ANNA:
Hey, is this your house?

I wish it were! But, don't worry,
I have the key, and, er...

that's all that counts, eh?

- ANNA: Yeah.
- (UNLOCKING DOOR)

(FRONT DOOR CLOSING)

ANNA:
Hey, where's the light?

(GASPING)
No! Lasciami!

Stupido! Let me go!

You scared me!

Didn't mean to.

I am sorry.

Er... This way, please.

Make yourself at home.

You want some ice in yours?

Oh!

- (GASPING)
- PETER: Oh, sorry.

- I did it again, didn't I?
- (ANNA CHUCKLING)

Beautiful little house, huh?

Only the owner must be a Scot.
He hides his whisky.

- No!
- Uh-huh.

- (ANNA CHUCKLING)
- One of his many idiosyncrasies.

- Huh!
- Mm-mmm.

Hey, take it easy.

ANNA: Oh, wait.
Be a good boy.

No, later.

(GASPING)

No...

- (ANNA YELLING)
- (PETER GROANING)

- Are you crazy?
- (PETER LAUGHING)

I wasn't kidding when I said
I'd paid thirty-five pounds for this!

You did, eh?

Huh. What do you want?
What's the matter?

- (PETER ROARING)
- (ANNA SHRIEKING)

ANNA:
No!

(MOANING)

PETER:
How do you say "love"?

Amore.

PETER:
Amore.

And how do you say "whore"?

No.

Oh, come on.
Tell me.

Amore...

Mmm?

ANNA:
Putana.

PETER:
Putana.

- Amore putana.
- (ANNA CHUCKLING)

(CHUCKLING)

(DOOR CREAKING)

(ANNA SCREAMING)

- I...
- (ANNA GASPING)

- Hawkins...
- (ANNA SCREAMING)

Ann...

Who...

Who are you?

I... I assure you,
there's no money in the house.

The silver...

is in the dining room.

Take it.

Listen, I...

I'm not armed, and there
are no guns in the house.

And then...

I wouldn't want any trouble.

Now, look here.
What are you doing in this house?

What do you want?

(GASPING)

Sorry, baby.

I hate to interrupt
a professional at her job.

And you are a winner.

That was nice work.

What do you want with us?

What do you want?

Bastard.

Why don't you kill us, too?
What are you waiting for?

Balls.

It can wait.

By the way, mate.

You're still gonna
have to pay her, right?

- PETER: But...
- Get me?

- Listen...
- Shift!

Sit down.
Both of you. Over there.

We've got some waitin' to do,

so keep your cool,
and you'll live a little longer.

- PETER: What are we waiting for?
- Eh? Just take a seat, mate.

Are you Spanish, love?

Italian.

So, what's your game?

A whore in exile?

On a temporary export.

QUILL: Tell you the truth,
I always buy British, myself.

ANNA: (CHUCKLING)
You don't know what you're missing.

You like London?

I don't know.

It's a loo, love.

A great, big, beautiful loo.

You have to walk very carefully.

Around the edge of the pot.

If you fall in the shit,

- you've had it.
- (CHUCKLING)

And where do you think
I am right now?

Sono nella merda, fino qua!

(CHUCKLING)

He's on the edge
of the pot right now.

(LAUGHING)

"Come on," he says.

"I take you to
a nice, quiet place."

(LAUGHING)

That's just what he said.
"Quiet."

And what do I find?

A bastard like you.

Hmm.

- (GASPING)
- (HARD SLAP)

(PHONE RINGING)

JUDGE: What about
my call tonight? Busy?

Er... No, Your Honour.
It's ringing now. Just a moment.

- Hello?
- PETER: Yes?

- Is that Judge Bedell's house?
- Yes, this is Peter Bedell.

Ah, one moment, please.
The judge is calling.

- You're through, sir.
- Oh, thank you.

Hello?! Hello?!

The old man's in
a hell of a temper tonight.

Ever known him not to be?

Peter? What took you so long?
Where's Hawkins?

Hawkins? Er... I don't know.
He's not in tonight.

Probably gone to the cinema.

Hmm! The old fool's gone senile.

Hasn't been to the pictures for years.

Well, what can I tell you, Uncle?
Really...

The truth, blast you.

Did you sent him out by chance?
Come, now. Whom do you have there?

Well... No... No-one, of course.

Ha! Then this is a night for surprises.
What are you doing

home so early?

Oh, there's an awful mess
in town tonight.

Somebody or other's
out protesting again, and...

well, I didn't want to risk
getting caught in the middle.

Besides, I have to go over some papers
for the Enterprise censorship case.

Oh, very likely.

Er... Do you think you could
neglect your strippers for half an hour?

- Well...
- Oh, they won't mind.

You have a way with strippers.

- I need you, my boy.
- Yes.

Hello? Hello? Are you there?

- Of course, sir.
- Good.

Are you at your club?

Er... No, damn it.
I'm still in court.

I'll be home late, but I'm
not likely to tell you when.

I don't like it.

You're turning our house
into a... you know what.

Your tastes are rather coarse, Peter.

What's come up, sir?

That's right.
Let's change the subject.

All hell's broken loose
in the MacLennan trial.

It appears there was
an eyewitness after all.

How can you possibly...?

Tomorrow's the first session.

Well, what the hell do you think
is keeping me here?

I have to re-read the entire case.

Peter, I hope you know
where to put your hands on

those High Court precedent volumes.

I need the Forsyth case.

I think it was in thirty-eight.

Um... Thir... Thirty-eight.
Yes, Uncle, I'll look it up.

Now, call me as soon
as you've found it, eh?

Hello? Hello?
Peter, are you there?

Er... Oh, yes, sir.
Of course.

- Own up, boy. Who's there with you?
- No-one. I told you, Uncle.

It... It's just that...
I was thinking of the, er...

Those books, the precedent volumes
are by the south window, right?

Oh, blast it, Peter,
they are where they are.

Just find them and call me back.

All right.

- Er... I'll call... call you back.
- Good.

When will that lad learn
to have some sense, hmm?

- POLICEMAN: Excuse me, sir.
- Oh, excuse me, Constable.

- The MacLennan file, sir.
- Thank you.

Isn't it his good luck
I've work to do here?

I'd like to be at home now,

to take a look at
those papers he's working over.

All in order here.
Oh, Constable?

Would you be passing Newgate
on your way back, by chance?

It's right on my way, sir.

Excellent. Excellent.

- Might I ask you a favour?
- Certainly, sir.

You know my house?

It's on Kensington Road.

Number 336.

- Yes, I know it, sir.
- Good.

I'd appreciate if you would
hand this over, personally,

to my nephew, Peter Bedell.

Yes, sir.

Thank you.

You're welcome, sir.

(ENGINE STARTING)

You mean you understand
that muck?

I should. I'm a solicitor.

A solicitor?

Then you mind telling me

why was your uncle
talkin' about strippers?

I handle all the legal work for
Enterprise, the studios.

We have a rather naughty series
going on television.

- All the same.
- Television programmes?

All of you legal types.
Judges, the law, it's shit.

And I've had my fill of you.

(CHUCKLING)

Yes, I don't doubt it.

Coo!

The lawyer. The winner.

With his nice
got-ya-by-the-balls manners.

Why does your bloody uncle
want that book, eh?

Researching for a civil case.

What's that mean?

What's that mean, eh, Solicitor?

It's just that...

Just that there's no
crime of violence involved.

So?
Stay there, slut.

Pick it up.

Please.

Hold it there.

Them haughty bastards.

They'd send anybody to jail,
violence or no violence.

So why not blast one of them, eh?

Stop it!

Who are you?

What do you want?
Who knows you?

Why are you so mad for?

It's him.

You don't like him?

Then kill him!

Burn the whole house!

But leave me alone!
Leave me alone!

Stop your shouting.

I won't talk.

I won't tell anyone I was here.

lo...
lo non c'entro, capisci?

I don't even know him.

I don't know nothing!

- Stop shouting!
- Nothing.

I hate shouting!

- (GRUNTING)
- (GROANING)

Bastards!

I'll kill you!

(QUILL TUTTING)

Nervous, love?

Then take a stroll.

Where I can see you, though.

(CAR DOOR OPENING)

(CAR DOOR CLOSING)

Hey.

Let me go.

Huh?

Stow it.

Could I have a drop of whisky?

Please?

(WHISPERING)
Police...

Police...

(DOORBELL RINGING)

(DOORBELL RINGING)

(DOORBELL RINGING)

All right, now get this, Solicitor.

There's nobody
what's comin' in here,

'cause, whoever it is,
I'll kill him.

And you.
And the girl, too.

- (GASPING)
- Now, go on.

Go!

I swear I'll kill you.

Move!

(GASPING)

Good evening, Mr Bedell.

Something wrong?

What?

Ah, no! Er...

What can I do for you, Constable?

I have a letter for you, sir.

(WHISPERING)
There's a killer in there.

He murdered Hawkins, our butler.

- And he's holding a gun.
- It's from your uncle.

Will there be any message, sir?

(LOUDLY) No, everything's
all right as it is, thank you.

(WHISPERING) He's a killer.
Don't you understand?

What are you waiting for?
He's a...

- Anyone else around?
- Nah, nobody.

- But... You can't...
- Later, madam. Later!

- The servant?
- Dead.

- Explain, please.
- His heart, I guess.

Rolled over like a dead fish.

Afraid I'll have to chalk
that one up to old age.

I trust you'll forgive us.

We're sorry, Solicitor.

I don't generally like violence.
Watch them, Quill.

Well, Solicitor,

put another log on the fire
and, er...

let's have a little chat, hmm?

On the fire.

Who are you?

I'm afraid that'll have to be
my secret for the moment.

I'm looking for something,

and I daresay you
can help me find it.

Help you?

What do you mean?

Help you to find what?

(PHONE RINGING)

Answer it very carefully.

- PETER: Hello?
- Ah, Peter.

Did the constable come?

No. I... I mean, yes.

- Did he or didn't he?
- Yes, just now.

I suppose he's given you
my note, then?

No.

Strange. I told him
to give it to you personally.

He just arrived.

You'd do well to read it
and act accordingly.

- Yes, sir.
- Peter, did you find that book yet?

- Hello?
- No.

No, not yet.

Well, hurry, and call me
right back, please.

Er... Yes, Uncle.

Good.

Ah, yes, the letter.

Shall I read it, hmm?

"Dear Peter, I trust
this policeman's visit

"will serve as a lesson to you.

"If you haven't already done so,
throw out the whore th..."

(CHUCKLING) Forgive me,
but that's what it says here.

- Mmm.
- "...throw out the whore

"that you were entertaining
in our house. Your loving uncle."

Do you file your letters, hmm?

Give it here a minute.

Your uncle seemed
very angry with you.

But you don't really care, hmm?

Well, I don't blame you,
at a time like this.

Er... Which was the book
that dear Uncle wanted?

QUILL:
He left it on a table there.

Hmm.

Yes.

Well, do you have to...

Must you read him all this?

No, just a few paragraphs
on the Forsyth case.

You mustn't keep him waiting.

If you don't telephone your uncle,
it will...

It might set him wondering.

And if I don't call him?

Then what?

Maybe he'll become
suspicious, huh?

And send on a policeman.

A real one, this time.

And you may be dead.

Right, then, shall we call him?

- Where's the extension?
- In the hall.

Remember, Solicitor,
I'm relying on your sense of honour.

Don't disappoint me.
I'll, er... be in the hall.

No foolish risks, eh, Solicitor?

(PHONE RINGING)

- Hello?
- PETER: Hello. Uncle?

Ah, Peter.
You're not angry with me, boy?

- No.
- I hope you found the book?

Yes, the Forsyth '38
Shall I read it?

Hold the line a moment.

- (CLICKING)
- Go ahead.

Now, let's see... "The sentence herein
cited with respect to the case..."

Ah! Here it is.

"Therefore, in the opinion
of this High Court of Justice,

"the accused cannot benefit
from the extenuating circumstances

"set forth in Article 56."

Am I going too fast?

Oh, I see. Er... "circumstances
set forth in Article 56.

"And thus this court confirms
the sentence of the second instance

"and the sentences of 1868 and 1914
in the previously cited cases."

"In fact, one reads on page 138

"of the second volume
of Thorp's Civil Claims,

"'The existence or lack of direct
testimony does not impugn the validity

"'of that gathered by
the judicial authority. ' Cicero himself

"in the Third Philippic maintains that

"'Abseti injuria verbis
tamen nec culpa volanda

"'nec homini publico ad publicum." '

Oh, no, sir.
Sorry, I skipped a line.

Uncle, why did you
send round that constable?

Aha! So your conscience
is bothering you, huh?

If it makes you feel any better.

- Go on, keep reading, Peter.
- You have an awful opinion

of me, Uncle.

Sine vestimenta vera
insidia preest.

- That's all.
- Well, then, good night, Peter.

Good night.

Well, Solicitor.

Seems that you are
an honourable man after all.

And Judge Bedell
was a most honourable man.

Incorruptible.

As a magistrate,
he was the very incarnation

of the law's inflexibility.

You're talking about my uncle
as though he were dead.

Oh, really?
I hadn't noticed.

I won't impose my company on you
any longer than is necessary.

How long that is is pretty much
up to you, Solicitor. You see...

I'm looking for a certain file.

QUILL:
What's that? A file?

Did I hear right?

Yes, Quill.

What the hell are we doin' here?

Shut up.

"Shut up"? Where's that
wall safe you told me about?

That can wait, Quill.

You always balls up...

(GASPING)

Idiot.

But, er...

What kind of file is it
you're looking for?

I'm terribly sorry, but they teach them
frightful manners in the Scrubs.

Oh, were you inside, too?

Afraid that's none of your business.

All right, but what happens
to us once you leave?

- What will you do?
- Very tricky question.

Rather depends on you,
I should imagine.

Win this at tennis?

No, I played rugby for Eton.

- I asked you a question.
- And I didn't answer it.

Always was a second-rate team,
as I recall.

What would you do with us?

I'm so glad
you came back to that.

- Ah, you see, my dear solicitor...
- ANNA: Excuse me, gentlemen.

Lemon or milk?
One lump or two?

What is this? A tea party?

- Madam...
- Madam, nothing!

I don't know you, you don't know me.
What do you want?

He just asked you.

Answer him!

Before he does it in his pants.

That'll be enough.
Control yourself, madam.

Control, nothing!
And don't call me "madam"!

- Idiota.
- That will be quite enough.

No!

You can't tell me what to do.

None of you tells me what to do!

- Shut up, you bitch!
- (GASPING)

You know, I admire you, really.

You have courage.

You lack formal schooling,

and, I daresay...

you never played rugger.

Although I'm sure
you're proficient at...

certain other sports.

QUILL: (GROANING)
Oh, Jesus.

My bloody head!

What the hell happened?
Huh?

Oh, you went sleepy bye-byes.
Out cold.

Who did it?

- Our host there.
- I...

No. I...
I didn't do anything of the sort.

- You bastard!
- No...

(GROANING)

(HEAVY THUMPS)

Attento! Look out!

(GROANING)

(HEAVY BLOWS)

(GROANING)

Basta! Stop it! Stop it!

That's enough. Take it easy!

- Cut it. Take it easy. Take it easy!
- All right!

- Let's take the stuff.
- Now, just a second. Not so fast.

Wait a minute.

I was standin'.
He couldn't hurt me!

Well, that's all right, Quill.
We'll take the stuff.

Right after you've moved the car.
It can be seen from the road.

You don't want us
to get caught, do you?

Do go, Quill.

It's an important detail.

All right, Welt, but...

we'll talk later.

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)

JUDGE: (ON RECORDING)
Go on. Keep reading, Peter.

PETER: You have
an awful opinion of me, Uncle.

"Sine vestimenta vera
insidia preest."

- That's all.
- Hmm. Well, then...

JUDGE:
"Vestimenti speris..."

PETER:
...ion of me, Uncle.

- "Sine vestimenta vera insi..."
- (SWITCHING RECORDER OFF)

(CHUCKLING)
Strange.

(REWINDING TAPE)

JUDGE:
Go on, Keep reading, Peter.

PETER: You have
an awful opinion of me, Uncle.

"Sine vestimenta vera
insidia preest."

- That's all.
- Well, then, good night, Peter.

PETER:
Good night, sir.

"Sine vestimenti speris
insidia preest."

"If the habit is false...

"treachery is near."

(CAR DOOR CLOSING)

(ENGINE STARTING)

Come on, try.
Come on, get up.

PETER: (GROANING)
No... I can't. Really, I can't.

I'm sorry. It's my fault.

I got you into this mess.

I'm terribly sorry, really...

- Si, si.
- Forgive me.

But it's too late now.
Come on.

We have to do something.

Hurry up.

He's upstairs now. Look!

(GROANING)

Ne, va ben'.

Go to sleep.

It's too late, anyway.

Get him up!

I need him.

Jesus!

Madam, I think your client
needs a drink of water.

Would you be so kind
as to go to the kitchen

and see if you can
find him some?

There's a good girl.

If you touch the telephone,
I'll kill you.

Hmm. You kill nothing.

WELT:
Plucky girl, isn't she?

I know you.

I know I've seen you
somewhere before.

Really?

I don't think so.

Listen, Solicitor,

I have to talk to you alone,
before they come back.

We're different, you and I.

We have nothing
in common with them.

Oh? Well, er...

Tell me who you are, and, er...

there might be grounds
for talking.

WELT: Oh, I'll set
the conditions, I think.

PETER:
What do you want?

What would you say
if I were to tell you

I was an old friend
of your uncle's?

(CHUCKLING)
I wouldn't believe you.

(ANNA GASPING)

Well, if you don't believe me,
that's your business.

- I can't...
- QUILL: Go on, get in there.

She was gonna make a call.

To the coppers.

And I should have
let this slut call.

- Why did you kill him?!
- Control yourself.

You kill a copper,
and you're screwed.

You are screwed! That wasn't
part of the deal! Jesus!

Easy, Quill. Control yourself.

Look, you always trusted me.
Why don't you trust me now?

You saw what she was gonna do,
and you stopped her.

- QUILL: Why did you...
- Quill, I need you.

You need me.
We need each other.

We've been through
so much together.

You wouldn't want anyone
to call the police now, would you?

Quill?

All right, Welt.
All right.

WELT: What I'm looking for,
Quill, is worth a lot.

(GASPING)

- PETER: Really, I'm so sorry, I...
- ANNA: Idiot... five pounds...

- PETER: if the lady's...
- ANNA: Which way?

MAN:
...for me, you bleeders!

(WHISPERING)
Go and ask.

Go ahead.

The bathroom.

- PETER: This way.
- (ANNA LAUGHING)

Idiota!

You ruined my dress!

PETER:
Oh, I'm so sorry.

PETER: Why did you
send round that constable?

JUDGE: Aha!
So your conscience is botheri...

(SWITCHES OFF RECORDER)

JUDGE:
"Sine vestimenta vera..."

No, "sine vestimentis".

Wonder if he purposely
made that mistake,

so that I'd catch it?

"If the habit is false,
treachery is near."

Whose habit? Who's near?

The constable? And the habit?

Could be his uniform, hmm?

He did mention the constable.

And it was a strange
tone of voice.

The fool!

- Hello! Hello! Officer!
- MAN: Yes, sir?

Ring up my house, would you?

ANNA: Er...
May I go to the toilet, huh?

All right.
You go with her, Quill.

QUILL: You smell of
cheap perfume and whisky.

- You turn my stomach, you do.
- ANNA: You have a weak stomach.

QUILL:
What you doin' with that key?

This way you're sure that

I won't lock myself inside.

Let's make double sure.
I'll come in with you.

Please.

Tell you what, Solicitor,
I'll make a little bargain with you.

What kind of bargain?

Your uncle...

is a very orderly man.

All his cases
are carefully catalogued.

Every document neatly filed
in proper order.

- That's so, isn't it?
- Well...

Then why is the file
for 1955 missing?

It is, you know.
I've looked everywhere.

Now, you tell me where it went,

and I'll tell you who I am.

1955...

Welt.

Arthur Welt.
That's who you are.

But...

But what the hell
are you looking for?

For an act of justice, Solicitor.
Just an act of justice.

Judge Bedell, your uncle,
is about to die.

Officer? Judge Bedell here.

What's taking you
so infernally long?

What? No answer? Impossible.

Try again.

I rang through to
the telephone company, sir,

and they report the instrument's
either broken or off the hook.

What's the matter?
You don't like the show?

Take it easy. Forget it.

He kills and you pay, huh?

Shut up.

Nobody kills a policeman in England.

What are you gonna do?

Will you shut
your big bloody mouth?

Hmm. Very bad...

to kill a policeman.

Mmm?

PETER: How are you
going to kill my uncle?

WELT:
With infinite satisfaction.

PETER:
How, Welt? How?

WELT:
With a bomb, Solicitor.

WELT:
Quite simple, eh?

PETER: You'll never
get away with it, Welt.

WELT:
I know.

He's crazy.

Nobody kills a policeman here.

You know that.

Listen to me, Quill.

Shut your big mouth!

You found money?

No, you found nothing
because there is nothing.

Listen.

Be smart, huh?

You help me.

Then, after we get out,
for the money,

I promise...

I'll help you.

Hey?

We are the same, you and me.

JUDGE: Officer.
It's over a quarter of an hour.

I've asked to speak to Scotland Yard.

Patient? Well, that's all
I've been, man. Seems to me.

What the devil are they
doing at the Yard? Dreaming?

What's that? Oh, good.

- Hello, Inspector.
- Your Honour?

Your people sent me
an urgent file this evening.

Would the constable who brought it
be back at Scotland Yard yet?

I rather doubt it, sir.

All available men have been called out
as reinforcements at Park Gate.

Might I know why you ask?

Well, it's tied in with some doubt
over a legal term in Latin that was

being dictated by my nephew.

He used a phrase which couldn't possibly
be part of the original text.

"Sine vestimentis veris
insidia preest."

That is, "if the habit is false,
treachery is near."

"Habit" in this case
could mean "uniform".

- In other words, a false constable.
- Photostats on these, eh?

Hello? Hello?
Are you there?

- Yes, sir. Go on.
- I realise the situation, Inspector,

but, er... I'm afraid
something might have happened

- to my nephew.
- You did call him?

Yes, only the phone
doesn't seem to be working.

- If you could send...
- Certainly, sir.

We have a radio car
right in that district.

I'll look into it straight away
and let you know.

Oh, good.
I'll be waiting right here in my office.

Don't worry, sir.
Goodbye.

POLICE RADIO:
Panda 44, proceed immediately

to three thirty-six,
336 Kensington Road,

residence of Judge Horatio Bedell.

Telephone doesn't answer.
Check and report immediately. Over.

Roger. 336 Kensington.
Over and out.

Huh! "Telephone doesn't answer."

Why didn't he call
the phone company?

- Why bother one of us?
- Well, you ain't a judge.

(SHOWER RUNNING)

Didn't the solicitor
put you up to this?

Why do you fight it?
Admit it.

He told you to do
a little strippin' for us. Right?

What difference does that make,

since you want to pay
for something you didn't do?

As soon as you get out,
you pull a fast one on me.

Ah, he's crazy.
You know that.

You have to stop him.

And I can help you.

WELT:
It's the first time for me.

- I mean, killing a man.
- My uncle.

No, the policeman.

It's easy, you know.
Incredibly easy.

I realised that after.

In a war, it's different.
You see, it's your duty.

And they teach it to you so well

that you learn to kill
quite naturally.

You follow me?

I follow, all right.

But I honestly don't think
I would have had the guts.

Maybe I would have been frightened,

if I cared about living,

and if I didn't have the hateful thought
of Judge Bedell to sustain me.

(INAUDIBLE)

(INAUDIBLE)

I feel sorry about that fellow.

Hmm.

Quill isn't aware, naturally.

His only interest is your
mythical wall safe.

Do you mind if I
take off my jacket?

And he has very little fear
of getting caught for robbing that.

But the uniform,

you understand, and the...
the police car.

We'll never get away with it.

I know that, you see,

and I really don't care.

Would you mind awfully
bringing me a whisky?

QUILL: I must say, you tried
hard enough, love. (CHUCKLING)

You wanted to get our nerves
and set us against each other.

But I'm not falling
for that one, love.

I have to stick by him.

Even when things get rough.

Why?
Did you marry him?

Never mind that, you slut.

It's time you asked
for a divorce.

Don't you think?

QUILL: What are you doing,
you bitch? Welt!

Welt! She's gettin' away!

(CAR DOOR CLOSING)

(GASPING)

- (GASPING)
- Shut your mouth, or I'll kill you.

- (ANNA GROANING)
- WELT: Shut up!

- (ANNA GROANING)
- WELT: Move. Move, I said!

Wait here.
No sense driving in.

(DOORBELL RINGING)

(DOORBELL RINGING)

(TAPPING)

Evening, Mr Bedell.
May I come in?

Er... Yes. Er...

What is it, Constable?

POLICEMAN: Haven't had
any trouble, have you, sir?

No, as you can see, I'm fine.

I dunno, sir.
It's just that Central radio...

It looks like your uncle
has been trying to call you,

but your telephone
appears to be out of order.

- Really?
- Yes, sir.

Oh, I hadn't realised.

I guess you'd like to check.

Won't you come in with me, please?

Yeah, it's out of order.

It's a bit late to call
the phone company, sir.

Doubt if they'd send
anyone out now.

Anyways, I'll, er...

I'll have Central ring up the judge
and tell him that you're all right.

Oh, good evening, Constable.

Good evening, sir.

Er... Peter?

Is there, by any chance,
some ice?

Yes.

- In the refrigerator.
- Oh, good.

- Excuse me.
- It's quite all right, sir.

- Oh, you have an extension here, sir.
- (ENGAGED TONE)

Fancy that.

It was off the hook.

And it looks like a wire...
there's a bit come loose, too.

Sounds in order now.

I guess you hadn't noticed, sir,
the thing had fallen, and...

No, I...
I hadn't heard it, Constable.

Constable. She...

Oh, yes, sir. It's really...
a very beautiful house, sir.

I think I'd better be going now, sir.

- Well, I'll walk you to the door.
- WELT: Oh, Peter...

I can't seem to find the soda.

Oh. It was nice
meeting you, Constable.

Good night.

Good night, sir.

JUDGE: "Sine vestimentis veris
insidia preest."

"Insidia preest."

"Insidia."

"Insidia."

"Insidia."

Sounds pretty queer to me.

I mean, that girl
on the sofa and all.

Freaked out is what she was.

Doped right up to the gills,
and half naked at that.

Well, seeing as it's a judge's house,
we'd better go easy in the report, then, eh?

I'll just say I put the phone
back on the hook.

No skin off my teeth.

- POLICE RADIO: Panda 44.
- That's us.

You completed Kensington Road?

When they ask that way,
it always means trouble.

Panda 44.
Yeah, go ahead. Over.

RADIO: Riots and looting
on Gloucester Road.

Proceed immediately,
56 Gloucester under Mates Gallery.

This is an emergency.
Priority all calls. Over.

44 proceeding. Well, it looks like
the judge will just have to wait.

You cowards.

And just what do you
think you are?

You put her up to it,
didn't you?

What kind of people are you,
to hit a girl like that?

Ah, shit!

(DIALLING TONE)

Well...

You've been taking the initiative
quite a bit this evening, haven't you?

Whisky.

Lost your tongue for a moment, but,
on the whole, you were rather nervy.

What with offering
to go for the door,

and all your babbling.

And the talk about the telephone.

Not bad at all.

You were hoping he would
arrest me, weren't you?

Eh?

(GROANING)

I'll cool you off,
you son of a bitch!

Here, mate, have a drink!
Put your face in the ice,

and see how you like it!

How do you like that, Mr Bedell?

How do you like that?

- I'll kill you, you cheeky bastard!
- Welt, that's enough. Let go of him!

Come on!

(EXHALING)

Thanks, Quill.

I feel... better now.

QUILL:
What do you want?

Go back to sleep.

(YELLING)

(ALL SHOUTING AT ONCE)

(SIREN APPROACHING)

(POLICE WHISTLES BLOWING)

All right! That's enough! Come on!

RADIO: Regular Patrol 44,
have you reached 56 Gloucester?

Come in, please, Patrol 44.

- Hello?
- Report in, 44. Report in.

(BLOWING RASPBERRY)

(SIREN BLARING)

Officer? Still no news
from that radio car?

Sorry, sir.
They were held up by a riot.

Call! Call right away!
I must know!

Yes, sir.

It's got to be here someplace,
damn it!

PETER: Oh, come now, Welt. You don't
really think you're going to find anything

by turning the house
upside down, do you?

But you don't mind if
I take a look. Right, Mr Bedell?

You can look around as...
As much as you want.

- Only...
- Only what?

If the file's missing, it's probably
because my uncle has it in his office.

Besides, I remember the case.
You were sentenced in 1955.

Yes, in November.
Yes, it, er...

was a rather famous case,
as I recall.

Oh, really?

Yes, and it seemed to me
you had a fair trial.

Although, if I'm not mistaken, I...

I believe you
considered yourself innocent.

I wouldn't say that, exactly.

But I was the only one...

that stood trial.

And why was that, Solicitor?

Well, you can hardly expect me to
know that. Really, I wasn't even...

(LOUD SLAMMING)

Because the others
paid up, that's why.

Your dear uncle,
dear, honest uncle screwed me.

But why?
Why only me, Solicitor?

I...

I wish you would
explain it to me.

I'll explain it to you.

I was a nobody, Solicitor,

and I couldn't come across
with the lolly.

Didn't have any social graces, or...

go to Oxford,

or wasn't a member of his bloody club!

Now, wait. Maybe...
Maybe there was a mistake.

A mistake. Mistake. Some mistake!

My father was a drunk.
Mistake number one.

He didn't belong to any club
like the Right Honourable Judge Bedell.

Just a moment!

You're wrong there,
because I do know

that my uncle is
an honest man, Welt.

Honest, eh?

When I was standing alone in the dock.
Alone, mind you.

Where was the Right Honourable
Philip Henderson, who hired me, Solicitor?

Hired me to put his swindle
into working order.

And Ralph Waterson, OBE.

Where was the bugger while
I was warming me backside in jail?

They were cleared during the hearings,
because they paid up.

They were already rich.
Crawling in money.

Like that phoney bitch
Dame Elvira Perkins,

and a load more, if I care to
waste my breath naming 'em.

Where were they then, eh?

Down at the races,
or at the Queen's Garden Party,

or sitting in the Stock Exchange
counting their fucking money?!

But there's no bloody title
attached to my bleeding name,

is there, young feller-me-lad?
I'm just plain Mr Welt, that's all.

And so your uncle
shoved me the shaft

right up to the top
of me bloody head.

Well, now, fair's fair,
and an eye for an eye.

So, I'm about to do the same...

for him.

(LAUGHING)

(LAUGHTER CONTINUES)

(LAUGHTER CONTINUES)

QUILL:
Welt!

Come here.

I found it.

I suppose you were joking, then.

There was only fifty quid,

and a bunch of papers.

And you knew that. Didn't you?!

- Papers.
- Filthy rotten papers, Welt!

- Watch those two.
- But...

WELT: It's all here.
All the names.

The names of all those sons of bitches
as paid off your uncle, Solicitor.

You're being absurd.

What did you find there?
Signed receipts?

Not bloody likely.

Your uncle was
a bit too clever for that.

And then, at the trial,
he tried to shut me up.

Didn't want me to tell the truth!

But which truth, Mr Welt?
Yours?

Can you tell me, perhaps
what happened to that million pounds?

Oh, I admit I got me share.
I see you know all the details.

I wonder how many times
your dear uncle

talked about the case in his sleep.

Why?
Did you ever ask yourself that?

Well, I'll tell you why.

Because it was on
his bloody conscience!

Mr Welt,

that sentence was exemplary.

But I paid for all of them.
Fifteen years.

- Fifteen bloody years!
- I said "exemplary".

I didn't say that it was fair.

Then you admit it.

You admit that your uncle

had reasons for not stepping
on certain people's toes.

- Go on, say you admit it. Admit it!
- Yes, all right!

All right! Anything you say.

But, still, you were
directly responsible.

You actually committed the crime.

And, according to the law,
it is you who is guilty.

No!

Accordin' to the law...

You are guilty.

- Guilty!
- No.

- Guilty! Guilty!
- No.

No, I'm not guilty. I...

- Guilty!
- I'm not guilty. I'm not guilty!

- Guilty!
- Guilty!

- Guilty!
- No!

And you want me
to tell you more?

All those people
that you were talking about...

got the go-ahead from you.

You can't deny
the extent of your guilt

just because they dumped you
when things got rough.

Hmm.

You can say, then,

that it's the system that's rotten,
and I agree.

But that has nothing to do
with the law, your guilt, or my uncle.

No, no, they're only
words, words, words.

They don't mean a thing!

Why don't you read this, Solicitor?

- Guilty!
- Guilty!

Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!

I'm not guilty. I'm not guil...
I'm not guilty. No!

JUDGE: According to the law,
you are guilty.

WELT:
No! No, no!

- Guilty!
- WELT: No, it's not true! Wait!

- Guilty!
- According to the law, you are guilty.

But, Your Honour, there were others.

I gave my lawyer a list.

There were others.

You have the list, Your Honour.
I wasn't alone.

The case is closed.

You mean I'll have to pay
for all of them?

- All of them?
- The case is closed.

- For all of them?!
- The case is closed.

No! No, it's not fair!

All of them? All of them?
No! No!

I was not alone!

The sentence was exemplary.

It's inconceivable, I tell you.

It's a disgrace!

That policeman couldn't
possibly have vanished.

- We're checking, sir.
- What about the radio car?

WELT: Have you read enough,
Mr Bedell?

Well?

What's the verdict now?

Still "Guilty", Solicitor?

Oh, Welt, I...

I am sorry.

I didn't know.

How could I have known, really?

Don't play the hypocrite with me.

You're not sorry.
You're just like all the rest.

Just like your righteous uncle,
who put me inside,

only because I had the guts
to climb out of the bloody gutter

to share the cake with you lot.

But you won't get away with it.

I've got you all now!

And I'll tell you this, mate.

The whole bloody world's
gonna know.

- I'll tell 'em!
- Welt...

I'll tell 'em what a rotten bunch
of filthy bastards you really are!

When the newspapers
publish the evidence,

they'll have the names!

Philip Henderson, OBE.

- The Right Honourable Ralph Waterson.
- Welt!

Dame Elvira Perkins!

- Welt!
- Hey?

God damn you, Welt!
Shut your fucking mouth!

- But, Quill...
- We're in shit!

- You bitchin' old bastard.
- Quill...

You only came here for revenge,
didn't you?

- No.
- Well, I'm here for money.

You understand?
You bastard, for money!

- Not for your lousy revenge!
- Don't say that.

They don't give a damn about that!

I'm not crazy!
Don't say that!

No, Quill! No, Quill! No!

Fifteen years!
Fifteen bloody years!

QUILL:
Son of a bitch!

- You're crazy! You're mad!
- WELT: No, Quill!

No, no, no, no!

Quill!

ANNA: You don't want to kill him.
He loves you.

Kill me instead. Go on!

I'm not afraid of you.

Hurry up! Shoot!

- Ssh...
- They'll get you.

You'll pay for it anyway.

Quill is right.
You are crazy.

You think because you found
a piece of paper,

it's going to change everything.

Povero fesso!

Cretin, imbecile.

I'm only sorry I won't see
your face when they catch you.

You won't be so big then.

You'll cry like a coward.

You'll sweat and shout,

but nobody will hear you!

Nobody, Welt!

(LAUGHING)
Nobody!

Nobody.

(CRACKLE)

(GROANING)

QUILL:
Welt! Welt!

Where are you, Welt?

Where's the light?

WELT:
Quill.

QUILL:
Who's that?

Make a move and I'll kill ya.

Who is it?

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello? Still no news?

Oh.

Officer, I'm leaving for home now.

Well, Higgins and I are about to
go off duty, sir, in five minutes,

if you'd care for a lift.

QUILL:
You're not gettin' outta here!

You neither, Welt!

(GASPING)

(KETTLE WHISTLING)

(WHISPERING) You must hurry.
The door will be wired with explosives.

If he opens it, it's the end.

No time to waste.
You must tell him.

(GUNSHOTS)

Hello? Hello? Judge Bedell?

(ENGAGED TONE)

Why doesn't he answer?

My God!

POLICEMAN:
Don't open that door!

For the love of God,
don't open that door!

It's been wired with explosives.
Don't open it.

Don't open it.

(ANNA GASPING)

(LOW PIANO NOTE)

POLICEMAN: Hold it there.
Just like that, sir.

No, don't lift the handle up.

Perfectly still, sir.

JUDGE:
What are you going to do?

POLICEMAN:
Detach the detonator, sir.

If I can.

- (CLATTERING)
- (GASPING)

(MIAOWING)

JUDGE:
Toby!

- Toby...
- (DOOR CREAKING)

Help!

- (MIAOWING)
- (DOOR CREAKING)

JUDGE:
Toby!

- Toby!
- (MIAOWING)

- (GROANING)
- (CLATTERING)

- PETER: Bastard!
- QUILL: Welt!

(GROANING)

- (GRUNTING)
- (GROANING)

(WELT YELLING)

(ANNA GASPING)

(GRUNTING)

QUILL:
Choke, you bastard! Choke!

(GROANING)

No!

No!

- (WELT GRUNTING)
- (ANNA GROANING)

(HEAVY THUD)

(YELLING)

(GROANING)

(HEAVY THUD)

(GROANING)

(GROANING)

- (GLASS SHATTERING)
- (QUILL GROANING)

(GASPING)

(YELLING)

(CLATTERING)

(GRUNTING)

(GROANING)

(CLATTERING)

Now...

(GRUNTING)

(SNARLING)

(YELLING)

(YELPING)

(GRUNTING)

You tell...

(RATTLING EXHALATION)

JUDGE:
Peter! Peter!

POLICEMAN:
There's no light, sir.

JUDGE: There's a fuse box
to the right of the door. Peter!

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