Original subtitles

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Good evening.

This began when someone asked me

if I wanted to go into the advertising business.

I always imagined it had more dignity than this.

Of course, the term "sandwich boards" intrigued me too.

Little did I know that

I would serve as the, uh, bologna.

As for bologna, more of that in a moment.

The possibilities of this type of advertising are limitless.

I understand they are putting advertising

on the inside of reading glasses.

This is excellent for people

who frequently stare off in space.

I know I shall like it, because now I can sit down with a book

without having the feeling I am wasting my time.

Tonight's story is called "Relative Value."

But first, some of that meat I mentioned a little earlier.

*

A hundred pounds?

It's out of the question.

And I'm astonished that you're having the nerve to ask for it,

on top of this.

John, don't you realize

that your signing my name to a check is forgery?

You needn't blame me for that.

I wouldn't have done it if I'd had any alternative.

Alternative, my dear boy?

There are plenty of alternatives.

Settle down to a steady job,

give up this racecourse and nightclub existence

if you really want an alternative.

(knocking)

Come in.

Oh, good evening, Mr. John.

Evening, Betts.

I brought your warm milk, sir.

Oh, Mr. John, there's some cold lamb

and a bit of that Stilton you like, sir.

That was thoughtful of you, Betts,

but I'm just leaving, I'm afraid.

Oh, then I expect we shan't be seeing you for a bit.

Mrs. Betts and I are going on our holiday soon.

Margate as usual?

Yes, sir.

Well, that sounds jolly.

When do you leave?

On Thursday.

Well, who's going to look after my cousin while you're gone?

Oh, Mrs. Simpson of the village

is going to come in by the day, sir.

I see.

Well, have a good time.

Thank you, sir.

I'm sure we will.

Is there anything else, sir?

No, thank you, Betts.

You can turn in now.

Goodnight, sir.

Goodnight, Mr. John.

Goodnight, Betts.

Well, I've just got time to get the last train.

Might as well get back to London.

Might as well have stayed in London, for all your generosity.

Why won't you realize

it isn't a matter of generosity or otherwise?

I simply haven't got the money.

Oh, don't tell me that, Felix.

I saw Uncle John's will.

Yes, you saw the will,

but you didn't see the list of debts that went with it.

Well, perhaps you'll realize, when it all comes to you,

how little is left.

That won't be long now, I expect.

That doesn't work any longer, either, you know.

Trying to play on my sympathy by telling me how ill you are.

You're as well as I am, and you'll probably outlive me.

You seem determined not to believe a word I say.

Well, I suppose it's useless trying to convince you.

Yes, it is.

I see.

Very well.

Listen to me, John.

If there is another check like this, another forgery,

I shall have to prosecute.

Do you understand?

Yes, I understand.

I'm sorry, but you give me no choice.

Good night, Felix.

*

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(frogs ribbeting)

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(whistling)

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(cars beeping)

(knocking)

Hello, Benny.

Mr. Manbridge!

What a nice surprise.

Well, I was just on my way to the city, Benny,

and I thought I'd drop in.

Oh, splendid.

Would you like a cuppa?

Um, no, thank you.

Benny, what are the odds on Lady Jane

at the 4:15 at Sandown?

Oh, they're very good on her, sir.

I can give you four to one.

Well, I'm afraid that's not quite good enough.

Well, perhaps there's something else you fancy.

How about Misty Moon in the fourth?

I can give you a very good price on him.

Yeah, well, I'm not surprised.

He ran wide last time out.

Well, if you change your mind, you can always ring me up.

Yes.

Benny, that...

that check of my cousin's I gave you yesterday,

you've put it through, I suppose?

That's right.

That's what you said, if I didn't hear from you.

Mmm.

Well, you'll know by Thursday if it bounces, won't you?

I'll know tomorrow, sir.

Nothing wrong with it, is there?

Of course not.

The other one was all right, wasn't it?

Yes.

I'd not have taken this one if it hadn't been.

You can be sure of that.

I must say, you, you bookmakers are a very suspicious breed.

We've been made so.

Goodbye, Benny.

Goodbye, sir.

*

(indistinct conversations)

Hello, Tom.

Good evening, sir.

Thanks, Bert.

Thanks a lot.

I'll have a small whiskey, please, Tom.

Right-o, sir.

(indistinct chatter)

Last orders, gentlemen, please.

-There you are, sir. -Thank you.

Oh, by the way, Tom, you didn't happen to find

a small brown paper parcel about the size of a shoebox, did you?

No, sir, not that I can recall.

Oh, it was just a little present for my cousin.

You know Felix Manbridge, I believe.

Oh, yes, sir.

I'm sure you didn't leave it here, sir,

but I'll ask the missus tomorrow to be certain,

but I know if she'd found it, she'd have let me know.

Well, of course she would.

Here, drink up, please, gentlemen.

Time, please, time.

Good Lord, is that clock right?

Yes, sir.

Felix will be wondering what's become of me.

It will take me, what,

three quarters of an hour to walk to his house?

Oh, yes, all of that, sir.

Well, I better be on my way.

All right, come on, gentlemen, hurry up now.

-Goodnight. -Goodnight, sir.

Come on, now.

Drink up, now.

Glasses here.

That's it.

(crickets chirping)

*

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(water splashing)

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(knocking)

*

(crickets chirping)

So that we can say to those of you who have written to ask us,

life insurance is the application of insurance

to loss or injury caused by death.

A contract under which one party, called the insurer,

in consideration of certain stipulated payments

termed premiums, agrees to pay to another

a moneyed benefit upon the happening of a contingency

dependent on the duration of a human life.

The person whose life is the subject of the contingency

is termed the insured,

and the party receiving the benefit, the beneficiary,

while the benefit itself is called the insurance money.

In practice, the contingency involved is either the death

or the continued survival of the insured.

The life or mortality table

from which the premiums must be determined,

is at the foundation of the business.

Such a table, in its simplest form,

consists of the number surviving at each age,

from which the number of deaths

and probability of mortality are readily determined.

The three requisites of such tables, for insurance purposes,

are that they should be safe, properly graduated

and fairly comparable to the mortality to be expected.

The premiums for life insurance are computed

from the risk of death, as shown by the mortality table.

And since the former are usually fixed sums,

while the risk increases with age,

it is necessary to charge more than the actual cost

in the early years, in order to offset the deficiency.

*

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(paper rustling)

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(thumping)

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(books crashing)

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(frogs ribbeting)

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(whistling)

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(knocking)

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Felix, are you there?

*

(whistling)

*

Felix, are you there?

What's going on here?

Who is it?

It's the police, sir.

Oh, Mr. Manbridge.

What seems to be the trouble, sir?

Constable, I'm glad you're here.

My cousin asked me down for the weekend.

I just walked up from the, from the station.

I can't seem to be able to make him hear me.

*

I can't understand it.

I know he's expecting me.

*

You wait here, sir.

I'll take a look around.

*

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(crickets chirping)

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You'd better come in, sir.

(crickets chirping)

Is anything wrong?

Yes, sir, I'm afraid there is.

What is it, man?

For Heaven's sake, tell me.

Well, is he--

Yes, sir, he's dead.

How did it happen?

I don't know, sir.

It's a queer business.

Look at this room.

But, I mean, what happened to him?

Well, that remains to be seen, sir.

He seems to have been dealt a blow.

Maybe he smashed himself on the fender over here.

But it's queer because, you see, I found this note over here.

(paper rustling)

"I, Felix Edward Manbridge, being of sound mind,

solemnly declare that I am dying by my own act."

*

"I have taken poison and--"

*

Well, sir, this was my first day here,

and I didn't know Mr. Manbridge too well, you understand,

but as far as I could tell, everything was normal-like.

Mmm-hmm.

And you saw nothing peculiar about his behavior?

No.

Nothing out of the way, sir.

And you left about 8:30 you say.

-That's right, sir. -Uh-huh.

Well, you can run along now, Mrs. Simpson.

I'm sorry we had to bring you out so late

and thank you for being so helpful.

Oh, not at all, sir.

I'm glad to be of any help.

Mmm-hmm.

-Longdon? -Yes, sir?

You will see Mrs. Simpson safely home, won't you?

Yes, sir.

Oh, no, that ain't necessary.

Thank you very much, I'm sure.

I'll just nip out the back way.

It's only a step to my house.

Goodnight, sir.

Goodnight, Mrs. Simpson.

What about Mr. Manbridge, sir?

Mr. John Manbridge?

Where is he now?

Outside in the entry hall.

We'll let him stay where he is for the moment.

(knocking)

Come in.

Well, how about it?

Well, it was just as he said, sir.

Both the ticket collector at the station

and Mr. Crocket at the Four Feathers

both remember seeing him quite clearly.

He was asking about a parcel,

and he left the Four Feathers with just time to reach

the bridge where Longdon here saw him lighting his pipe,

and it was him, all right.

Oh, here's the match ends that I found, sir,

and they're those little wax kind.

They're not very common hereabouts.

Oh, yes.

And he had a box of them in his pocket.

Well, that seems to give him an alibi, doesn't it?

But, it still looks

very odd to me.

What does, sir?

Well, look about you.

We're supposed to believe that a burglar

or some other mysterious intruder was here.

That Felix Manbridge surprised him,

and in the ensuing struggle

this mysterious visitor killed him with a poker.

Let's try something, hmm?

We don't, at the moment, have the poker, of course,

but these will do.

Now, Sergeant, we'll make you the intruder

because you're the taller.

That'll give you every chance.

Thank you, sir.

Longdon.

Yes, sir.

Turn around, remove your helmet.

Now, Manbridge was killed by a blow

delivered from above and behind.

Very well, go ahead and struggle,

and see if you can possibly deliver that kind of a blow.

My helmet.

Oh, come on, boys, come on.

You can do better than that.

(grunting)

Longdon, Longdon!

Yes, sir.

Well don't make it too difficult for him.

Longdon.

I just don't think it can be done, sir.

I agree with you, Sergeant.

I agree with you entirely.

Now, Longdon, sit down in that chair, will you?

-Yes, sir. -Mmm-hmm.

Now, Sergeant, could you come over here?

Over there.

That way.

That's right, there.

Now, how about that?

Yes, sir.

That would do it.

You mean, he was sitting there like that when he was struck?

He was already dead.

I'm convinced of it.

Yes, but who would do such a thing?

Only someone who thought he was asleep,

had already made careful plans to kill him,

including a careful alibi.

Mr. John Manbridge.

But how could it have been him, sir,

when he didn't even get here until I did?

When I was the one that let him in?

Well, I don't know, but he did somehow,

because he had this letter in his pocket.

It's from his cousin.

It's addressed to him.

It was sealed but not stamped,

so he couldn't have got it in the mail,

but it is dated today.

Which means that he must have been here at least six or seven

minutes before you saw him light his pipe.

What's in the letter, sir?

For one thing, he says his doctors told him

he has no more than three months to live.

He has no wish to prolong his existence in this world

and is hastening on to the next.

He's leaving his life insurance and all his worldly possessions

to his sole surviving relative, his cousin, John,

and he mentions a forged check,

which he has told his bank to honor.

(knocking)

That'll be the coroner's men, I expect.

Mmm-hmm.

Sir, you don't think Mr. Manbridge

might have got in quite innocently somehow,

before I saw him, and found his cousin dead

and found the letter,

and not mentioned it because it might look bad for him?

I don't think there's a chance of it.

He meant to kill his cousin, all right,

whether we can ever prove it or not.

Well, sir, I don't rightly know

what'll be done about it officially,

but I certainly feel a lot easier in my own mind.

I can tell you, when I finished with the telephone

and turned to find Mr. John Manbridge dead in the armchair--

Fancy my giving him a glass of the same whiskey

his cousin had put the poison in.

I was only trying to revive him.

*

Might call it an act of God, mightn't you, sir?

Yes, Longdon,

you might call it just that.

*

That is the fate of anyone so callous

as to kill a man who's already dead.

I wouldn't care if Felix had been living,

but to strike a defenseless corpse

is simply not my idea of fair play.

Speaking of fair play,

I'm afraid it's my beloved sponsor's turn,

but he assures me that I shall have the last word.

On that note of triumph,

we conclude this evening's activities.

Next week, we shall have another story,

and, of course,

more advertisements.

I almost forgot to tell you.

I finally leased the advertising space on my backboard

to my insurance agent.

Goodnight.