Original subtitles

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Go on, I'll wait here.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,

and welcome to darkest Hollywood.

Night brings a stillness to the jungle.

It is so quiet, you can hear a name drop.

But the savage beasts have already begun gathering

at the waterholes to quench their thirst.

Now, one should be especially alert.

The vicious table-hopper is on the prowl,

and the spotted backbiter

may lurk behind a potted palm.

In order to reach the scene of tonight's story,

our little safari must now move inexorably

and incomprehensively from smoggy Hollywood

to foggy London.

Fortunately, we make this side trip

through the pure, exhilarating air

of commercial television.

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Good evening.

Are you Inspector Brent, sir?

That's right.

Come in, sir, Major Cook-Finch

is expecting you.

If you'll just step this way, sir.

(rain pouring)

-Inspector Brent, sir. -Inspector Brent.

How are you, Major?

Beastly night out, isn't it?

Yes, it's just plain Mr. Brent

these days, by the by.

Yes, it's a bit damp out.

Well, sir, it's good of you to help out this way.

Oh, not at all, matter of fact,

I'm quite keen to learn what's going on.

Yes, of course, but at the moment,

I'd like to see your dining room

and speak to your man, Lane,

I think you said his name was?

Lane, yes, that's right.

If you'll come this way.

Now, the dining room is in here.

Yes, I remember.

Oh, Lane, Inspector, uh, Mr. Brent wants

to consult with you, please make

any arrangements he wants, will you?

Yes, sir, a police officer has arrived,

sir, from Blackheath Station.

Oh, good, I'll speak to him in a moment.

Very good, sir.

Well, I'll decant the wine.

Did you find that particular gas valve

I mentioned to you on the telephone?

Yes, sir, if we turn it nearly off,

the effect we experience is one of a failing supply.

Good, we'll go into that in a moment.

Now, I want you to turn off all the lights

in the study there, except the one by the door.

Very good, sir.

Good of you to let me take over this way, sir.

Oh, not at all, I've only a vague idea

what this is all about.

But you have rather whetted my curiosity, you know.

Yes, of course.

Be pointless to go over

all the details twice, though, wouldn't it?

Yes, I suppose it would.

Exactly, so we wait for Mr. Stone.

He'll probably be along in a moment.

Oh, Lane, where does the major usually sit?

Over there, sir.

Yes, well, that won't do...

You'll have to change it so he sits here.

Oh, but I always sit there.

Yes, of course, but that won't do tonight,

you see, sir, with the ghost appearing over there.

Odd.

I thought he said, "ghost."

-Now, Lane. -Yes.

I shall sit here with Mr. Stone opposite,

and over there, we shall have our guest of honor.

Very good, sir.

(bell ringing)

I expect that's Mr. Stone, now.

Show him in here, please.

(rain pouring)

-Good evening. -Good evening.

Will you kindly step this way, sir?

Mr. Robert Stone.

-Ah, Mr. Stone. -My dear friend.

Let me introduce you to our host, Major Cook-Finch.

Mr. Robert Stone.

-Major, how do you do? -Good of you to come.

I hope you like pheasant and a good claret.

Well, that sounds encouraging, I must say.

We're lucky it's Sunday so Mr. Stone could come.

He's playing in Macbeth now, you know.

Oh, yes, I hear it's a very good play.

I'm afraid, though, that the Tivoli

is rather more my style.

I'm a great admirer of Gertie Gitana, you know.

I daresay.

Disgraceful of you to drag me out

on a night like this, Brent.

You'll have to provide something unique

and engrossing to make up for it.

Well, perhaps I shall.

We're here to investigate a murder.

Really?

Exactly two years ago tonight,

a murder was committed in this house.

In this very room, in fact.

You may possibly have read about it at the time.

Now, Major Cook-Finch is familiar with it, of course,

since--since he took the house.

Yes, I shouldn't have been able to afford it otherwise.

People will shy away from places

after that sort of thing.

Lucky for me, I suppose.

Oh, you're referring to the Blackheath murder, of course.

The murdered woman was an elderly lady,

a Miss Ferguson.

She was apparently attacked

as she sat here eating a cold supper,

which her maid used to leave ready on her Sunday off.

Miss Ferguson was found brutally strangled,

with the meal half finished.

Her little dog, a Pekingese, had been killed, too.

Oh, yes, I remember reading about the dog.

The police seemed to think that the murderer

must have known it, otherwise it would have barked.

Yes, of course, it's not impossible

that he might have caught and killed the dog first,

but it seems unlikely that he could have done it

without so much noise alarming Miss Ferguson.

Well, wasn't there a suspect in the case,

a nephew or something?

Yes, John Bedford.

He was his aunt's sole heir.

But he had a very good alibi

for the time of the murder.

Miles away, in fact.

Oh, it couldn't have been Bedford.

I met him when I took the house.

Besides, he was at Eton.

But didn't I also read the house had been broken into

and some silver stolen?

That would seem to point to her

being killed by the burglar.

Possibly she caught him in the act.

Possibly, but it might simply have been staged

to make it look like a robbery.

But I thought you were retired.

Isn't the case someone else's headache now?

It was my case to begin with

and I don't like it remaining unsolved.

Oh, has Miss Thorpe arrived yet, Lane?

No, sir, not yet.

No, she said she might be late.

She'll come in the side entrance.

Show her into the study when she does.

Very good, sir.

And if we're at dinner then,

be very quiet about it, please.

Yes, sir.

Now, this may seem a little unusual at first.

The Yard would never permit it

if I were still there, of course,

but they'll be happy to get the compliments

if the plan works out.

I intend to produce Miss Ferguson's ghost.

(rain pouring)

He did say, "ghost."

Now, you've seen Miss Thorpe on the stage, I expect.

A superb actress.

She has agreed to be our ghost.

I gave her a copy of this photograph of Miss Ferguson.

She'll be wearing her hair the same way.

And I've seen her in her makeup.

The likeness is absolutely perfect.

Oh, May's a very fine actress, of course,

I never thought her queen in my Hamlet

quite measured up.

But you've still got me thoroughly confused,

dear boy, I wish you'd explain a little bit more.

Why, of course, now, when she appears

in the doorway here,

our last guest will see her, but we shan't.

What, but why not?

We simply look through her, that's all.

Just needs a bit of acting.

Oh, really, now that's all very well for Stone,

but I'm not an actor, you know.

I'm sure I can never bring it off.

Of course you can, Major, and I'm depending on you.

Now, we won't bring her on with the soup,

that would be rushing it.

I'm bringing her on with the pheasant.

All right, Brent, I'll have a go at it.

Good, now let me have a word with Sergeant Balton

a moment, and we'll all be through here.

Gentlemen, this is Sergeant Balton

of Blackheath Police Station.

He's lending us a hand tonight.

Major Cook-Finch, Mr. Stone, Sergeant.

-Mr. Stone. -Good evening.

You're clear about everything now?

-Oh, yes, sir. -Are you quite sure

the little fellow will do his part?

Oh, yes, sir, you can depend on him, all right.

Good.

Well, shall we go into the other room

and have a glass of sherry while we wait?

Yes.

My dear Brent, will you please settle down

long enough to tell us what you're trying to accomplish?

Also, who our other guest is.

I assume you believe he is the murderer.

Well, naturally, and I'd like it

all to seem quite everyday, you understand.

I mean, nothing prearranged.

All right, well, assuming we all act our parts perfectly

and convince the man he sees

Miss Ferguson's ghost, what then?

Well, I can't say for certain.

Naturally, I hope it'll cause him

to incriminate himself someway.

But it's only an experiment, I mean, it may not work.

But if he's really guilty,

do you suppose he'll come here tonight,

the very anniversary of the day he committed the crime?

Yes, I told him I got some new evidence

that I wanted to discuss with him.

It would look bad if he refused, wouldn't it?

(bell ringing)

Well, that must be our man now.

But you still haven't told us who it is.

Why, the nephew, John Bedford, of course.

He was the only one with a real motive.

But he has a girl who's infatuated with him,

and she swears he was with her all that evening.

-We could never... -Good evening.

Good evening, sir.

Now remember, we've only just got here.

Mr. John Bedford, sir.

*

And so, I took a step that wasn't there and...

Well, here I am.

Doctor says it will probably be in this condition

for three or four weeks or something, I don't know.

Spoiled all my golf.

Everything else is just a nuisance.

(audible sigh)

I haven't had a chance to see your Macbeth yet.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I hope it continues for a time.

I shall like to see it very much.

I'm a great admirer of yours.

Thank you, we're playing for another six weeks.

You were at Eton, weren't you?

Not so very long after I was, about 30 years?

Yes, that's right.

I heard about you.

They were still talking about that catch you made

against Harrow when you fell in somebody's veal

and ham pie.

By Jove, Major, those are beautiful birds.

Yes, I was lucky last week.

I bagged a brace of partridge and two pheasant...

at Leadenhall Market.

(laughing)

I should say we're the lucky ones.

And after that soup, too.

I must say, your cook does you proud, Major.

Yes, they do look rather edible, don't they?

Oh, by the way, I meant to ask you

what this new development was

before dinner was announced.

Oh, it can wait till later.

Nothing too significant, as a matter of fact.

I don't know whether Inspector Brent

told you or not, but my aunt was murdered in this house.

Here in this room, in fact.

Not really.

Must be a dreadful shock, a thing like that.

Yes, it was.

It was on a night something like this, as I recall it.

About two years ago, in fact, it was exactly

two years ago, wasn't it?

So it was.

Two years ago tonight.

Two years ago

and you still haven't discovered the murderer.

Really, old boy, no wonder you've retired.

Oh, you mustn't blame the Inspector.

He and his men worked very hard indeed.

I can tell you that.

In fact, they glanced at me once or twice.

I was my aunt's sole heir, you know.

Now, now, my boy, that was purely routine.

One must pursue every possible angle, you know.

That's part of the job.

Yes, of course, I understand.

I don't have to concern myself

with that sort of thing any longer.

Though, of course, I still have an interest in this case.

By the way, what does a retired

Scotland Yard inspector do when he retires?

If I tell you, you'll get a good laugh.

Now you'll have to tell us.

Well, as a matter of fact, I've grown quite interested

in bird-watching.

Not really.

Yes, yes, I have a small place

in the country now, you know,

and a neighbor of mine, a widow,

first introduced me--

Oh, now I understand.

"Bird-watching," he calls it.

No, no, no, actually, you don't understand.

You see, it is not as easy as it appears.

You'd be surprised at the number of people

who become intrigued by it.

(growling)

(barking)

So, a great many worthwhile qualities

are called into play.

Planning, based on knowledge and experience,

a considerable amount of care and stealth.

And the most acute observation

and attention to detail, of course.

(dog growling)

Tell me, have you ever bird-watched?

Uh, no, as a matter of fact, I haven't.

However, I...

(dog barking)

Is that your dog?

Dog, what dog?

Well, didn't you hear one bark just then?

Why, no.

I didn't hear anything.

(dog barking)

I...I must have been wrong.

Well, I'm afraid I could never work up any enthusiasm

for such a strenuous pastime as you've just...

Hello, what's the matter?

Oh, just the gas pressure.

It drops off this way now and again for some reason.

Something wrong with the gas works, no doubt.

I suppose we're lucky it never goes quite out.

Ah, the advances of modern civilization.

I sometimes believe we'd be better off

without these modern conveniences.

The gas seems to be down again, sir.

Shall I bring more candles?

Oh, no, I think not, thank you.

It's rather cozy.

Very good, sir.

But you--you might go and see

what that is, will you?

Yes, sir.

(wind howling)

The front door had blown open, sir.

Really, I can't see why I spend

this time of the year in England.

I'd be better off to pack up and go to Italy,

and let them get on without me.

Oh, come now, what about your public?

Oh, my public is a conglomeration

of self-appointed Shakespearean authorities,

half-witted intellectuals and just plain dolts.

And, of course, I'd absolutely die without them.

Yes, yes, I daresay.

By the way, do you think the caliber of your public

reflects the player, or...

Or would you say it's just the nature of the brute?

Well, that's an underhanded question, Inspector,

and I shan't answer it.

*

You don't play Shakespearean roles exclusively, do you?

Oh, no indeed.

Though I must say, there's been little else

worth doing recently.

I don't see why the writers of today can't do better.

You'd be simply appalled if you could read

some of the things I've been offered.

You've had a long experience in the theater,

haven't you, Mr. Stone?

Well, I've done most things, I suppose.

Toured the provinces.

I've been on the halls, too, for a bit.

That was many years ago, of course.

Is it--would you call it a re--

*

A rewarding life?

Rewarding?

Oh, yes.

The vicious barbs of critics

whose opinions reflect the state of their digestion

rather than an intelligent appreciation of the play.

The irrational antics of leading ladies,

such as the incident which occurred

when we were in rehearsal for Hamlet.

The actress playing Ophelia,

whom we need not name, I think,

refused to start rehearsal on Thursday

because her astrologer informed her that it clashed

with her sign.

She was quite adamant about it.

So, we had to wait until the following Monday.

And she really wasn't worth all the trouble.

She was far too old for the part.

Then there's one's exploitation

by ungrateful managers,

the malicious gossip, lunatic adulations.

Indeed, the rewards are many.

And, of course,

nothing else could ever take its place.

What about those first nights

when the audience stands and cheers you?

When they won't let you go at all

and keep you coming back

for one curtain call after another?

Ah, yes, that's what makes it rewarding, of course.

There's no price too high to pay for just a...

I say, is something the matter?

No.

Nothing, only...

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Now, what is it, my boy?

(rain pouring)

Don't you see it?

See it?

See what?

Are you feeling all right, old chap?

I say, what is it?

I'm all right, thank you, it's only...

*

Can't you see her?

*

Well, what's the matter with you?

Can't you see her when she's right in front of your eyes?

Go away!

Get out!

Get out of here!

You can't frighten me!

I'm not having it, so go away!

Get out of here, do you hear me?

Get out, whoever you are, or I'll kill you again!

*

Oh, so...

So it wasn't a ghost after all.

All right, Inspector, your trick worked.

You may come in, Sergeant Balton.

Mr. Bedford,

it's my duty to arrest you and charge you

with the murder of Miss Eleanor Ferguson.

I must also caution you

that anything you say may be written down

and may be used in evidence.

You'll have to come along, sir.

Here you are, Bedford.

(rain pouring)

Ah, very nice, Miss Thorpe.

I'm sorry, I was delayed.

What do you mean?

I've only just this second arrived.

Am I too late?

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Good evening again.

Following that little presentation,

I'm prepared to continue our safari

through the jungles of Hollywood.

As you can see,

I'm ready to hunt for the really big game.

So I've hired a native guide.

He claims to know exactly where

the big ones are to be found.

In order to flush the game from its hiding place,

we use a pack of fierce autograph hounds.

Just yesterday, they treed a big bore.

And before they could be stopped,

they had torn his dinner jacket to bits.

Now, as an example of the flora and fauna of this area,

we present a motion picture.

This picture was shot under incredible conditions.

We were in constant danger of the heat,

native attacks, and temperamental outbursts.

Five years in the preparation,

a year in shooting,

all distilled into one precious minute.

But I see it's time for me to keep

an important appointment.

I shall rejoin you following this.

It will only take a minute.

His time is valuable.

I'm afraid I must press on

until next week at this same time.

My native bearers are getting restless.

That last commercial frightened them.

Koenga, Macambo.

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