Dear m*rder*r (1947)

[bunniefuu]

Anybody at home?

Temple Court.

Mr. Fenton?

Yes?

Could I speak to you for a moment, please?

Is it a business matter?

Well, it's rather urgent.

Oh, all right. Come in.

Thanks.

In here?

That's it.

Do sit down.

Thanks.

I don't think I know you, do I?

No, we haven't met officially

but you must have noticed me quite a lot recently.

Really? Where?

On the mantelpiece.

I've been there for some time now.

I was there watching you every time

you came to make out with my wife.

In fact I should have thought at any moment

a touch of finer feeling

you would have turned me to the wall

or at least covered me away.

You're Lee Warren.

That's right.

I thought that you were in America.

Vivien had a cable from you yesterday.

What will these husbands do next?

I suppose Vivien told you that we've been...

You've been what?

Well, that we've been out together.

Very nicely put.

I didn't mind the going out.

It's the staying in that I objected to.

I don't know what you mean.


Don't you?

No.

Then I'd better tell you.

I've been away for eight months.

During my absence my wife has been spending

a lot of time with you.

I want to know where I stand.

You must ask Vivien that.


I will, of course.

But first I want to know what you're offering.

Offering?

Yes, do you want to marry her?

How can I when she's married to you?

There is such a thing as divorce.

I see.

You don't like the sound of that very much.


Frankly, no.

You mean to say that if I took a sock at you now and saw my solicitor

in the morning it wouldn't exactly enhance your career, would it?

It isn't that so much. It's just that I'm not sure

that Vivien would want to marry me.

That's honest anyway.

But it doesn't get us anywhere, does it?

Well, what do you suggest we do about it?

I'll tell you.

Tomorrow early you can go away.


Take a long holiday.

I can't do that, not right away.

Why not?

I'm a busy man.

Not busy enough, apparently.

What do you do for a living?

I'm a barrister.

Then you're your own master. You can spin a yarn

about your health or something.

I might be able to fix it somehow.


I think you can.

You can write a letter to Vivien finishing the affair

once and for all.

But...

I'd like you to do it now, please.

Very well.

Wait. We'll compose it together.

How do you usually address her?

"Vivien, dear"?

Oh, "Vivien, darling".

"I love you."

You got that?

Yes.

But I realize that whatever your feelings are for me now

you love your husband and always will.

...always will.

Paragraph.

I cannot bear to be near you...

and to know that you...

can never be mine.

And if what I am about to do

may seem cowardly to you...

Cowardly?

Your trip, your running away without seeing her.

All right.

...cowardly to you,

it is the only way out.

So tomorrow I'm going away

on an extended trip abroad.

When I return...

I hope that you will again be happy with your husband

and our friendship but a happy memory of the past.

Love...er...

again, whatever you usually put.

Love, always.

That's right.

Love, always.

How does that strike you?

Well, I think I see what you're getting at,

Warren.

You want all traces of opposition out of the way

so you two can try to get together again.

Exactly. You're very understanding, Fenton.

In other circumstances I could almost like you.

Thank you.

What about a drink now?

I should like one.

Whiskey?

Please.

Was your American trip successful?

Very.

Soda?

Please.

You wouldn't care to settle there, I suppose.

No, my roots are here.

Cheers.

Cheers.

May I?

Of course.

I don't think we could improve on that.

So sorry, Fenton.

That's all right. I'll fix you another one.

It's not the drink I'm worried about,

it's the letter.

It's saturated.

You won't be able to send that.

I'm afraid you'll have to write another.

Now look here, Warren, you can't be serious

about this letter.

I'm afraid I am.

Sorry to be such a nuisance.

All right.

Pretty girl. Who is she?

My sister. Why?

I just wondered.

Are you sure it's not somebody else's wife?

I don't think that's very funny.

No, that's not.

Don't say I'm here.

Of course not.

Hello?

Oh, hello.

No, no, I'm all right.

Yes, yes, of course.

No, not tonight.

I'm afraid I'm just going out.

Yes.

Yes, good night.

Your sister?

No, your wife.

I don't think that's very funny either.

She wanted to bring some friends in for a drink.

What a shock she would have had.

You'd better finish the letter.

Stop, that's enough.

What the devil...

Put your hands behind your back.

Look here!

Do as you're told or I'll blow your guts out.

What the blazes are you playing at, Warren?

Is this a joke?

A joke?

Now you can turn around.

Look here!

Go lie down on that sofa.

What are you playing at?

You have 15 seconds to get onto that sofa.

Now put your feet up.

I suppose you realize you're laying yourself open

to a charge of criminal as*ault.

No. And I'm not interested.

Now, perhaps you will be good enough to explain

your quite extraordinary behavior.

Certainly. That's why I came here.

Did you and Vivien often talk about me?

Not often. I don't suppose you would.

Our marriage obviously didn't mean to you

but it meant a great deal to me.

You probably wouldn't believe this...

but I can remember exactly every detail of every minute

of every day.

Since I knew I was going to America and had to leave her.

I can remember exactly how she looked when I told her.

She was wearing her new black dress.

I didn't say very much until we started the dinner

and the waiter had gone.

Then I said...

Vivien, the firm wants me to go to America.

America?

Yes, they want me to put over a couple of deals...

and make arrangements for a New York office.

Will you go?

No.

Why not.

They say I can't take you with me.

But, Lee, surely you're going.

Do you want me to go without you?

Of course I don't, but if it's your job.

Oh, I get it.

You're not so ridiculously jealous that you're

still thinking about Paul.

There's nothing ridiculous about that.

I promised I wouldn't see him again ever.

And I haven't.

It was only a stupid little lapse.

Surely you can forget that now.

This trip means promotion, doesn't it?

It may.

Then you'd be a fool not to take it.

How long will you be away?

About five or six months.

That's not so very long.

I'll write to you every day.

You will?

Of course I will.

Get on with your soup, darling. It's getting cold.

When Vivien saw me out at the airport

I could have sworn she'd really meant what she said.

And when I got to New York and settled down to work

and her letters really did come every day

just as she had promised

I knew everything was all right.

That I could really trust her at last.

That stage lasted exactly three weeks.

Then this sordid thing began to happen.

Here's the mail, Mr. Warren.

Oh, thanks.

Mail this for me, will you?

Yes, Mr. Warren.

Any mail for me this morning?

Nothing personal, Mr. Warren.

Is that all?

Yes, thank you.

Miss Stern, take a cable, will you?

To Mrs. Warren.

Thanks for long letter. Stop.

Am mailing you bottle of ink and fountain pen. Stop.

Please use it. Stop.

Looking forward to seeing you.

Fondest love, Lee.

Right away, sir.

In the end I couldn't stand it any longer...

so I put in a transatlantic telephone call.

All one weekend I trampled up and down the office

waiting for it to come through.

And when it did...

Hello.

All right, I'll hold on.

Vivien, is that you?

Vivien, what's happened? I haven't heard from you

over a fortnight.

But darling, I wrote to you yesterday and on Tuesday.

I must have forgotten to post it.

I know, Lee, but I've been so terribly busy.

You see, mother's in town. I had to take her out.

I know, darling, but some days it's so difficult.

Really it is.

All right, darling, I'll try.

Yes, I promise.

I miss you terribly, too.

Hm?

No, no, I'll write to you every day from now on.

Yes, I promise.

Hello?

Hello!

We were cut off, but I didn't care.

I had spoken to Vivien, I was happy.

That shows you the sort of fool I was about her.

For a week or two her letters arrived regularly.

Then they stopped again.

This time I didn't trouble to telephone.

Instead I took to haunting a little bar off Broadway.

After a few drinks I was able to persuade myself

that nothing was wrong.

That Vivien still loved me.

But my false paradise didn't last long.

One night I came upon an old tattler someone had left behind

and there, laughing up at me, was Vivien.

Beside her, with his arms around her

also laughing at me, was Mr. Richard Fenton.

I went back to my office to think out what I should do.

I know I sat staring at the picture for hours.

It seemed to me that both of you were mocking me

while I was thousands of miles away helpless.

It was then that I began to plan what I should do.

In every detail.

And it was then that I made up my mind how to k*ll you.

What did you say?

I said I was going to k*ll you.

I warn you!

If you lift your voice I'm going to gag you.

Remember that.

You won't be able to keep your life

with a handkerchief halfway down your throat.

You must be mad to think you can get away with this.

If I'm found injured,

you'll be the first person they'll look for.

If you're found injured.

Look here, Warren, I'll make a bargain with you.

You set me free now and I'll go away tomorrow

and say nothing about all this nonsense.

Or I could proffer charges, you know.

Fenton, you're very dense. This isn't nonsense.

I'm in deadly earnest.

You're just trying to scare me, that's all.

Oh, no, you'll be more scared later on

when I set to work on you.

You're going to die.

You're not going to like it one little bit.

You wouldn't be such a fool.

You can't get away with m*rder. Nobody can.

I'm going to commit the perfect m*rder.

There's no such thing.

Oh, yes there is.

The perfect m*rder is the one nobody hears about...

because nobody thinks it is m*rder.

That's impossible.

I admit it is a little difficult.

But I've got a scheme that is good enough

to take the risk.

I had plenty of time to think it out when I was

in America...

and you were with Vivien.

There's bound to be a hole in it, there always is.

I warn you! I'm a lawyer, I know.

There'll be a flaw in it somewhere.

And that flaw will land you on the gallows

as sure as you're standing there.

Oh, but that is where you're going to help me.

Don't talk nonsense. Why should I help you?

For your own sake. I'm going to tell you

exactly how I propose to k*ll you.

And I promise you...

if you can find one flaw in my method,

one thing that will incriminate me

I'll let you go.

Ad if I can't?

I'm sorry.

You're really going through with it?

Yes.

You're joking, aren't you?

It's a pity you're not a little more subtle for you to appreciate

the situation.

A m*rder*r usually has to act alone.

He can trust no one.

But with my method I have you to help me.

Weighing and considering every detail.

And if you can't find a mistake,

then I have the comfort of knowing that my plan

has been approved by an astute lawyer

Look here, Warren. I don't know whether

you want to fight me or to k*ll me,

Whatever it is you won't gain your objective.

Your wife isn't only interested in me.

There are plenty of others, too.

You can't k*ll them all, you fool!

Shut your mouth!

Very clever of you to get me to lose my temper.

It's true, I tell you.

Let me look at your cheek.

Quite a mark.

Leave me alone!

Lie still.

Luckily it's only a surface reddening.

Take your dirty hands off me.

And leave it till it turns blue on that cheek of yours?

Not after I've taken all this trouble.

Now, that's all right now.

Now you lie still.

I'll show you something really interesting.

Warren! Warren, you can't go on with this madness!

I tell you...

This is your bedroom, isn't it?

This is a little invention of my own.

I'll give you a demonstration.

It's quite simple.

I put the end of this tube in there.

I then put the pillow slip over your head.

O draw the open end tightly around your neck.

Can you hear me?

Then I put the free end of the tubing

into the gas jet over there and turn on the gas.

You get the idea?

Of course you'll be able to breathe quite freely.

Look now, Warren...

Be sensible. Or I won't let you help me.

You can't, Warren... I'll do anything.

I'll leave the country for good.

I'll never come back!

I'll give you every penny I've got in the world!

Only let me live.

You don't understand, Fenton.

I loathe you.

You desecrated the only precious thing I ever had.

Now, listen.

Yes, I'll listen. I will.

I'll help you. I will, I promise you.

Good. Probably you've noticed that throughout all this

I've been very careful not to hurt you or mark you.

That's why I used silk scarves to bind you.

You're going to be a suicide.

When I put your head in this pillow case and turn on the gas

you're going to struggle and strain every muscle in your body.

But I'm not going to k*ll you in this room, oh, no.

I just want you unconscious.

When I strip off the scarves all your blood

is still circulating.

I don't want you to coagulate until I get you to the kitchen

with your head in the gas oven.

Warren...

The I leave the second, the unfinished letter by your side.

You began writing the second letter then I stopped you,

do you remember?

Yes, yes, I remember.

Listen: "Vivien, darling, I love you.

But I realize that whatever your feelings are for me now...

you'll still love your husband and always will.

I cannot bear to be near you and know

that you can never be mine.

If what I am about to do may seem cowardly to you

it is the only way out.

That's where I stopped you.

Any suggestions?

Let me think.

You must give me time to think.

Nobody could make m*rder perfect.

There must be a flaw in it somewhere.

There must be!

Go ahead, think.

I can't.

Do you see anything wrong?

Come on, come on.

What will you say you were doing this evening

if they question you?

Why, that's easy.

I arrived in London by air. I reported to my office,

telephoned Vivien, she was out.

So I dined alone and went straight to bed.

Anyway, a man can't be forced to put his head

in a gas oven, can he?

Don't forget you're not bruised.

And they won't find any drugs in you

when they open you up.

Fingerprints.

Gloves.

Motive.

I never met you, I never heard of you.

No one knows that I found out about you.

Somebody must have seen you come in here.

If I hadn't taken care of that I shouldn't be here now.

Marks... on my wrist.

Silk scarves. Any other suggestions?

Well, good bye, Fenton.

You're a bit of a failure as a lawyer.

I'm glad my life didn't depend on your arguments.

Give me that key and we'll find out.

d*ck!

d*ck!

You see? There's nobody here.

Darling, relax.

What I don't see is why you've got a key to his flat

when there was really nothing between you.

It's no use my pretending, Jimmy.

You're right. There was something between us.

But it's all over now.

I haven't seen him or spoken to him since I met you.

And you expect me to believe that?

You must, Jimmy, because it's true.

Do you think I'd come up here tonight if it wasn't?

You wouldn't have come at all if I hadn't made you.

Of course not.

I was going to try and cover it up, naturally.

I didn't want you to know.

If I hadn't found that key in your bag you wouldn't have told me.

Would you?

Do you blame me?

No, I suppose not.

I'm glad you know the truth now.

I don't want there to be any secrets between us.

It's far too important to me for that.

Anyway, it's not a crime to have had an affair

and then find out that you've made a mistake.

Is it?

You know why I wanted to be certain

there was nothing between you and Dickie?

No.

Because I wanted you to divorce your husband and marry me.

And now?

I want you more than ever.

Darling.

You will marry me as soon as you get your divorce,

won't you?

I don't know what to say.

This is all rather sudden.

Get me a drink, Jimmy.

I don't want to touch his drinks.

Well I do. I need one.

And so do you.

And make it strong, darling.

It isn't every day one gets a proposal.

Don't laugh about it, please. I'm serious.

I want to cable your husband tomorrow and tell him the news.

You are a quick worker, aren't you?

I'll get some ice in the kitchen.

Jimmy, come and sit down here with me.

It won't take a second.

But darling, I don't want any ice.

I want you.

You can have both.

I say, can you smell gas?

Darling, come here.

It's this, isn't it?

Careless of him. It's only half turned off.

I'll open a window.

Stop rushing about.

Now what's the matter?

I can't kiss you here.

Not in his flat.

Well, let's go somewhere where you can.

Where would you like to go? A bubble party?

Can't you think of anywhere more private?

Yes, I suppose so.

Darling, we are going to be married, aren't we?

Yes, but...

Do I have to write you a letter, Mr. Martin?

You can't k*ll them all, you fool.

Well, we'll see about that.

Then you still love me?

Should I be here with you tonight if I didn't?

I bought you a little present today.

You shouldn't have done that.

It's only a little signet ring I came across in the junk shop.

But you just read what's inside.

Till death us do part.

Vivien.

Will you wear it?

Till death us do part.

Darling.

What was that?

What was what?

I thought I heard a door close.

It's only Rita coming home. She's very discrete.

Oh. Excuse me, Madam.

It's all right, Rita.

I thought you said she'd gone to bed.

You needn't worry about her.

She knows how to hold her tongue.

Yes, but, darling...

Stop worrying. And say good night.

Lee!

Oh, I thought I heard you come in.

Lee, darling. When did you arrive?

How long have you been here?

I've been here for hours.

You poor darling.

Why didn't you phone me when you landed?

I did. No answer.

So I came on home and went to bed.

Why didn't you wait up for me?

I'm dog tired. I had a rotten crossing.

And there was no one in anyway.

Poor Lee. What a homecoming.

And just the one night I'm out.

You must tell me all about your trip.

Was it successful?

Lee, I've been so miserable without you.

What time did you turn in?

Oh, about ten.

Did you have something to eat?

I didn't want anything.

Let me get you something now.

No, thanks.

Why didn't you write to me, Vivien?

It won't take a moment.

Why didn't you?

But I did, darling. Dozens and dozens of letters.

But you said every day.

But, darling, that was only a figure of speech.

You know I was thinking of you every minute

and missing you dreadfully.

But I couldn't just go on saying that over and over again,

could I?

It would have been so boring.

And I've never bored you yet, have I, Lee?

Not until now.

But, Lee...

You see, I don't believe you, darling.

Were you on duty last night?

Yes, sir.

Did anyone ask for Mr. Fenton during the evening?

No, sir.

Did you see anyone strange, anyone other than the usual tenants

come in or go out?

No, sir, I can't say I did.

Did Mr. Fenton often have visitors?

Not many, no.

Any ladies?

Sometimes, yes.

One particular lady?

Not so's you'd notice.

All right, thank you.

That will be all for you two just now.

Won't you want me anymore?

Not for the moment, thank you.

Oh... all right.

Only I found him, remember?

Yes, thank you. We're very grateful.

There's a lady here to see you, sir.

She's Mr. Fenton's sister.

Oh, yes. Ask her to come in, will you?

Yes, sir.

This way, please.

Come in, please, Miss Fenton.

Sit down, won't you.

What's the matter, Inspector?

Why did you send for me?

I've got some bad news for you.

Has something happened to my brother?

I'm afraid so, Miss.

He... he isn't dead?

How did it happen?

He was found this morning in there...

with his head in the gas oven.

You mean he committed suicide?

I don't believe it.

d*ck would never do such a thing.

He's not that sort of a person at all.

A man can't be forced to put his head in a gas oven,

Miss Fenton.

But d*ck wasn't like that.

You better read this.

But I don't understand.

There's something strange about this.

In what way?

"I realize you love your husband and always will."

But he knew perfectly well Vivien didn't love her husband.

Who is this Vivien? Do you know her?

Of course, it's Mrs. Warren.

And your brother had an affair with her.

Yes.

And there was trouble with Mr. Warren?

No. He's in America.

You say your brother knew that Mrs. Warren

didn't love her husband.

We both knew.

How?

Because the man I was engaged to give me up for her

a fortnight ago.

Are you quite sure about that?

Perfectly.

And what was the name of your young man?

Martin. Jimmy Martin.

I see.

And you suggest that he took your brother's place

with Mrs. Warren.

I know he did.

And she took your place with him, is that it?

Yes.

Excuse my asking so many questions,

but it is a bit complicated, isn't it?

It's all very sordid and unpleasant.

And it's all her fault.

Yes, I'm sorry.

Now, if you wouldn't mind giving me

this Mr. Martin's address?

Why? Are you going to see him?

Just give me the address, if you don't mind,

and I'll decide about that later on.

Yes, of course.

He lives at number 7...

Aren't you going to the office this morning?

No.

Why not?

Anxious to get rid of me?

Not at all.

I turned in my report, now I'm taking a few days off.

To put some private affairs in order.

What private affairs?

Oh... private affairs.

Where are the other papers?

They're over there.

Good morning!

Mr. Martin!

Mr. Martin!

Hello, there!

Thank you, very much!

My favorite flowers.

How sweet.

I... I beg your pardon.

Not at all. Make yourself at home.

By the way, I didn't quite catch your name.

Vivien, introduce us.

Jimmy Martin, my husband.

How do you do, Mr. Martin?

How are you?

Have you known my wife long, Mr. Martin?

I...

Of course he hasn't.

Only during my absence, I take it.

I think I'd better go.

No, I think I'm entitled to some sort of explanation.

It isn't every husband who comes home to find

a handsome young man calling on his wife with flowers...

...and at breakfast time too.

Do sit down, Mr. Martin.

By the way, have you had your breakfast?

Yes, thank you.

I think you'd better go, Jimmy.

Yes, of course.

And I think he'd better stay.

Lee, don't be ridiculous.

Do sit down, Mr. Martin.

Have a cigarette, will you?

I don't know what you hope to gain by this behavior, Lee.

Mr. Martin, tell me. Is it a habit of yours to call on my wife

so early in the morning?

Certainly not.

But this morning you just thought that you would.

Is that it?

You may as well know it. I'm in love with Vivien.

Well, at least you're honest.

He's a likeable lad.

Have you quite finished, Lee?

Nearly.

Tell me, Mr. Martin, does my wife return your love,

do you happen to know?

Yes. I think so.

Is that true, Vivien?

I refuse to take part in this ridiculous charade.

But you're terribly curious, aren't you?

You're not missing a word.

Please go, Jimmy. I can't stand any more of this.

You must forgive my wife. She's not usually so inhospitable.

But then, of course, you know that, don't you?

That's a fine place to park a car, now,

isn't it?

Keep your mind on the job, Fox,

we've got more important things to do.

You wait here, I shan't be long.

Good morning, I'd like to see Mrs. Warren, please.

What name shall I say?

Inspector Penbury.

Will you come inside?

Thank you.

Excuse me, sir. There's a policeman calling.

Inspector Penbury.

Who does he want to see?

Mrs. Warren.

Has he brought any flowers?

No, sir.

Then show him in.

Will you come this way, sir?

Thank you.

Good morning, sir.

Good morning.

I'm Inspector Penbury, Mr. Warren?

Yes, can I help at all? My wife is dressing.

It's about a friend of your wife's, a Mr. Fenton.

Do you happen to know him?

Fenton? No, I don't think I do.

What about?

He was found dead this morning.

Oh? What's that got to do with my wife?

We found this letter near the body.

It's addressed to Vivien.

I think that's your wife's name.

Yes, it is.

May I read it?

If you wish.

Thanks.

I'm sorry to have to inflict this on you, sir.

Did you know about your wife and this Mr. Fenton?

No, I've been away for eight months.

I only got back from America yesterday.

Oh, really, sir?

Then I expect this must come as a bit of a shock top you.

Well, yes and no.

Yes and no?

There's no point in beating about the bush.

I came back from America earlier than I expected

because I was worried about my wife.

She hadn't written for several weeks and...

I'd heard that... well... she was going about

with other men.

Now it looks as though I misjudged her.

You mean this letter makes it quite clear.

Yes.

Did you say anything to your wife

about Mr. Fenton last night, sir?

How could I? I didn't even know he existed.

Oh, of course not, sir. Silly of me.

But you did talk to her, I expect.

Not very much. She didn't come in until quite late.

Didn't she come to meet you then?

No.

Bur she must have known you were coming home.

As a matter of fact, no.

I thought it would be more of a surprise

if she didn't.

I see.

Do you mind telling me what time you arrived back, sir?

We landed about five. I came by air.

Ah, yes... and after you landed?

Look here, what have my movements

have to do with all this?

You may as well know, sir.

There was another man in Mr. Fenton's flat last night.

We found his fingerprints.

For a moment I thought it might have been you.

If I had known of his existence

it very easily might have been.

You mean you might have taken the law into your own hands?

Yes.

It's a good thing you didn't, sir.

Darling, this is Inspector Penbury.

How do you do, Inspector?

He wants a word with you.

May I ask if you knew a Mr. Richard Fenton?

I did, yes.

Why do you say "did", madam?

Well, I haven't seen him for some time.

Have a cigarette?

No, thank you.

What's all this about?

Mr. Fenton was found dead in his flat this morning.

Darling, let me get you a drink or something.

No, I'm all right, thank you.

Do you mind if I ask you

one or two more questions, madam?

Of course not.

Thank you.

Were you friendly with the deceased?

Did you know him well?

We went out two or three times together

if that's what you mean.

Did your husband know him, or of him?

No. He was someone I met just recently.

When did you see him last?

I... I haven't seen him for, well...

since dinner with the Saunderson's two weeks ago.

Did he ever say anything that made you feel

he might take his own life?

No. That's why it's so terribly unexpected.

I hope you will excuse me, Mrs. Warren,

but I have to be more explicit.

Did the deceased...

Please don't use that word.

Did Mr. Fenton ever...

well, you know, if he was fond of you?

I suppose he must have been in a way.

Otherwise he wouldn't have wanted to take me out.

I don't mean that exactly.

Did he ever tell you he loved you?

I'm sorry, Lee.

But if I don't tell you now

I expect our friend will ferret it out somehow.

I couldn't help it. I never encouraged it, but he did.

He told me he loved me.

He even suggested I should divorce you.

Of course at first his flattery turned my head.

That's why I didn't write you.

Then I realized how stupid I'd been

and how very much I loved you.

And I said I wouldn't see him again.

But I still couldn't write you because I didn't know

how to explain why I hadn't done so for so long.

You do understand, don't you, darling?

More than ever now, my precious.

I was going to try and tell you this morning but you...

I'm glad you have, because Fenton left a letter.

A letter?

And what you said just now explains perfectly

what he wrote.

Doesn't it, Inspector?

It does, indeed.

What did he say?

Just one more question first.

What did you do last night, madam?

I went to a theater with a Mr. Martin.

He brought me home about a quarter to twelve.

Did he come in for a while?

Of course not.

He saw me to the door, said good bye and left.

Thank you, madam.

Here's the letter.

He k*lled himself...

for me.

But how terrible.

Terrible.

Don't take it like that. He k*lled himself

because you were faithful to me, didn't he?

Yes, but...

No one can blame you for that.

You won't want to ask any more questions now,

will you, Inspector?

No, I'd better be going.

Inspector...

If there's anything else,

please don't hesitate to ask me.

However badly I may feel about this,

it's not myself I'm worried about.

It's my husband.

Your husband, madam? I don't quite understand.

Well, you know how people talk.

And that letter, it looks so awful.

Must it be published?

That's for the coroner to say, madam.

I'll do what I can.

Thank you, Inspector.

Thank you, madam.

You've made things much easier for me.

Good day, Inspector.

Good day.

Lee, darling.

Yes?

Nothing.

Hello?

Oh, hello.

I can only talk to you for a second.

Lee's in the other room.

Jimmy, listen.

d*ck Fenton's committed suicide.

Who told you?

Oh, is she there?

Well, be careful what you say.

Jimmy, listen...

the police have been here asking all sorts of questions.

They wanted to know where I was last night

and I had to tell them.

If they ask you, say that you saw me home.

And whatever happens don't let out

that I was at d*ck Fenton's flat last night.

No, don't worry, I wouldn't.

No, of course not.

All right, I'll watch my step.

Bless you, darling.

And be careful.

Goodbye.

That was her, wasn't it?

Yes.

Does she know?

Hm-hmm.

I can just hear her gloating.

Dickie k*lled himself for me, you know.

Isn't it too touching?

No, she's not like that.

Isn't she? First she lets her husband down.

Then she lets Dickie down.

Someday she'll do the same to you.

No, I don't believe she will.

Anyway, I'll take a chance on it.

Do you really love her?

Yes.

Is she coming here?

No, it's all right. Calm down.

I'll go and see who it is.

Good morning. Mr. Martin?

Yes.

I'm Detective Inspector Penbury.

Could I see you for a moment?

Yes, of course, come in.

Thank you.

Through there.

I believe you know Miss Fenton.

Yes, we met this morning.

I'd like to speak to alone, Mr. Martin.

Perhaps I'd better come back later on.

It's all right, Inspector, I was just going.

I'll see you to the door.

Well, Inspector?

I suppose you've heard of Richard Fenton's death.

Yes, his sister was telling me about it.

No, thank you. Just a few personal questions,

Mr. Martin. Do you mind?

Not at all.

How long did you know the deceased?

Since we were at school.

You were engaged to his sister, I believe.

I was. We broke it up some time ago.

Oh, I'm sorry.

So far as you know, had Mr. Fenton any

financial or business worries?

He was a successful barrister. They don't have that sort of worry.

Sit down, won't you, Inspector?

Thank you. Any suggestion as to why

he should take his own life?

None at all.

You think there might have been an unfortunate love affair?

Not that I know of.

A drink, Inspector?

No, thank you.

You can't think of anything in that line?

No.

When did you last see the deceased?

At a party about ten days ago.

I see.

Perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me your movements

last night.

I went to the theater.

Alone?

No, with a Mrs. Warren, a friend of mine.

Dropped her off at her flat and came on home.

Can someone confirm the time you arrived back?

I'm afraid I can't help you there.

I have no maid and I saw no one.

Well, thank you, Mr. Martin.

I hope I haven't caused you any inconvenience.

No, not at all. Before you go, Inspector...

may I ask you a question?

By all means.

Was it really suicide?

I haven't the foggiest idea.

Good day, Mr. Martin.

Hello, what do you want?

I've got something I'd like to show you here.

And I've got something to show you. Look at this.

Where was this found?

In a wastepaper basket in Fenton's flat.

Roberts turned it in just after we left.

It's the same as the other. The one by the body.

The same, only different.

Look at that.

What do you think it means?

He changed his mind or someone changed it for him.

m*rder?

I shouldn't wonder.

And what have you got?

This.

Where did you get it?

Mr. Martin's car.

What is it?

Thought you might know.

Something he cleans the car with, I suppose.

That's what I thought at first.

But it's too clean for that.

Stuck out a mile among the other stuff in the boot.

And what's this for, anyway?

I don't know and I don't have time

for playing guessing games now.

Fox, smell that.

Smells like the back of a cab.

Anything else?

Gas.

Gas is right.

Give it to me.

What is it, do you think?

I don't know.

Gas.

Oh, it's you. Come on in.

Just a couple more questions, Mr. Martin.

Reinforcements?

Yes.

Sergeant Fox, my assistant.

Going away?

Just for the weekend.

Mr. Martin, are you quite sure your answers to my questions

this morning were correct?

Of course.

Then before I ask you this final question I must warn you

that anything you say now may be taken down

and given in evidence.

What is all this.

Just a formality.

Are you quite certain you didn't visit Mr. Fenton's flat last night?

Quite certain.

Then how do you account for your fingerprints being found there?

Fingerprints?

They must have been left from the last time I was there.

When was that?

About two or three weeks ago.

Do you think Mr. Fenton would have left

a whiskey glass on his table for three weeks?

No, of course not.

Then perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me what really happened.

Very well, I went there for a drink.

When was this?

Well, I dropped Mrs. Warren off at her flat

at about 11:30.

Then I thought I'd go round and see Dickie.

He wasn't in so I had a drink and left.

If he was out, how did you get in?

I had a key. You must have found it.

I left it on the table by mistake.

So you arrived just before midnight.

Hm... about that.

The doctor puts the time of Fenton's death

a few minutes either side of midnight.

So you see, Mr. Martin,

it looks as if Fenton was in his flat when you called.

But I swear to you he wasn't.

Now wait a minute, I didn't look in the kitchen.

You mean he could have been lying in there

and you wouldn't have known anything about it.

It's possible.

You didn't go to the kitchen for water, or soda, or anything?

No.

Then how do you explain your fingerprints being found

on the kitchen doorknob?

What? Oh, yes, I started to go to the kitchen

but I couldn't find the light switch and...

I just didn't bother.

I'm sorry, Mr. Martin, but I don't believe a word you're saying.

I can't help that, I've told you the truth.

We found the oven gas jet still on this morning.

If the deceased had been lying in the kitchen

when you were there you must have smelled the gas.

I did, I remember now, I said...

I mean, I thought it was a leak.

What's all this about anyway?

It was a suicide anyway, wasn't it?

You asked me that before, this morning.

Remember?

Yes, but Miss Fenton was telling me that he left a letter.

Well, what makes you think that letter showed

he intended k*lling himself?

If you let me read it, I'll tell you.

Here's a copy.

It's pretty obvious, I'd say.

He explains everything.

Not quite everything, Mr. Martin.

The deceased found it difficult to write a letter

giving up the woman he loved.

Anyone under those circumstances

might have written dozens of letters.

We know for a fact that he wrote two.

You've just read one.

Now I'll show you the other.

You mean the letter found by the body

was to have ended the same way as that one?

Precisely.

He couldn't write a letter like that at the first attempt.

Who could? So he threw it away.

The m*rder*r interrupted him while he was writing another...

k*lled him...

then finding the half completed letter on the desk

realized that there was the final link to make it look like suicide.

He didn't know about the full letter in the wastepaper basket...

waiting to put the noose round his neck.

But I didn't do it.

Didn't you?

No, and I can prove it.

How?

He was found with his head in the oven, wasn't he?

How could I make him do that?

Why, it's ridiculous.

Come on, d*ck, old chap, stick your head in the oven,

I'm going to turn the tap on?

We'll come on to that now, if you like.

You see, Martin, you were very clever and you know it.

But one or two things are going to trip you up.

Like the letter, and this.

Well, what is it?

I was going to ask you.

I've never seen that thing before.

When we searched your car we found this thing in the boot.

I've never seen that thing before.

Someone must have put it in my car.

Anyway, why should I want to k*ll Dickie?

Because he was in love with Mrs. Warren, too.

Nonsense!

Is it?

I'll tell you this, Martin.

In the whole of my experience I've never seen a cooler,

more carefully planned and premeditated m*rder.

I've already cautioned you and I shall now arrest you

for the willful m*rder of Richard Fenton.

You're making a great mistake, Inspector.

Take him away, Fox.

I'll be over in a few minutes.

That young man of yours seems to be hitting the headlines.

Who?

See for yourself.

Jimmy didn't k*ll him.

He couldn't have.

Of course not.

Because you were with him all the time,

weren't you?

I don't know what you mean.

Don't you?

Good morning, Rita.

Good morning, sir.

Thank you.

You know Jimmy didn't k*ll Fenton

because he never left your side all the evening.

How do you know that?

Because I happened to be there.

Where?

In Fenton's flat.

But you couldn't have been.

Unless you...

Go on. Unless I k*lled him.

No... no, you couldn't.

Why not?

How could you have done it

when you didn't even know about him?

I found out. The rest was easy.

In fact I made only one mistake.

What was that?

I thought Fenton was the only man in your life.

He tried to tell me there were others

but I didn't believe him.

Until you came in with Jimmy, then it was too late.

You know what Fenton said?

He said, "You can't k*ll them all, you fool."

Well, he was probably right.

But Fenton and Jimmy in one day is a pretty good start,

isn't it?

Now what is it?

The post has just come.

Put them over there.

No, give them to me, will you, please?

Thank you.

You don't expect me to believe any of this, do you?

I don't see why not. It's all quite true.

I worked out a foolproof plan for k*lling Fenton.

When Jimmy turned up I replanned things a little.

Putting the pillow slip in the back of his car, for instance,

instead of destroying it.

If we don't pay the telephone bill in seven days

we're going to be cut off.

You mean to tell me you were in Fenton's flat that night?

That he was dying there

while we were talking in the next room?

Exactly.

I don't believe it!

Oh, you don't, eh?

Do I have to write you a letter, Mr. Martin?

Remember?

I see.

Your mother wants to come and stay with us.

Why she always writes to me I don't know.

Perhaps she thinks I'm kinder-hearted than her daughter.

After you and Jimmy had left I fiddled around Fenton's flat.

The more I fiddled, the blacker things began to look for James.

You wouldn't really let an innocent man suffer for something you did.

I suffered for something he did.

That's different.

Not to me.

I made up my mind to get my own back

and I'm getting it.

You're mad, you must be.

You love Jimmy Martin very much, don't you?

Yes, I do.

And you'd do anything to save him, wouldn't you?

Yes.

Well now you're going to be in the interesting position

of knowing that he's innocent and that I'm guilty

and that you can't do anything about it.

You're going to suffer, slowly and exquisitely

and I'm going to enjoy watching you squirm.

Rita!

Rita, are you in bed?

When did Mrs. Warren go?

This afternoon, sir, about three.

Where did she go, do you know?

No, sir, she just called a taxi and went.

Did you hear the address she gave the driver?

No, sir. She left a note for you, sir.

Yes, I know.

Anything else, sir?

No, you better go back to bed.

I want to speak to Mrs. Warren, please.

Warren. W-A-R-R-E-N.

You say she's not staying at the hotel.

Thanks.

Is that the Dorcester? Could you tell me if Mrs. Warren

is registered with you, please?

Yes.

Oh... she's not there.

Thank you.

Is that Maidenhead 365?

Riverside Hotel?

Could I speak to Mrs. Warren, please?

She isn't? Are you sure?

Thanks.

Mr. Martin, sir.

Thank you, Fox.

You and Grey wait outside, will you?

Yes, sir.

Sir down, Mr. Martin, please.

You know Miss Fenton.

Hello.

Mr. Martin, I want to ask you some questions in a moment

but there's something I must check up on first.

You won't mind waiting, will you?

Haven't got much options, have I?

No you haven't really, have you?

Excuse me.

I suppose you arranged this.

No... yes, partly.

What good did you think you could do coming here?

I don't know. I just thought I wanted to find out

if there was anything I could do to help.

Well, there isn't.

I know you didn't do it.

So do I. But it happens the police can prove

to their satisfaction that I did.

Jimmy, do you love her very much?

No, I don't think I love her at all.

Then why shield her?

Because if they can hang me on the evidence they've got

they can hang her just as easy as an accessory.

The significant thing is that pillow slip being in my car.

Someone must have put it there deliberately.

Whoever it was had a grudge against two people,

Dickie and me, and hated us both enough to want to k*ll us.

Oh, Jimmy...

Oh, excuse me.

Look, I'm sorry but something very important has come up

on another case.

Would you mind very much if we postponed our talk

to another day?

No, Inspector, of course not.

Thank you very much.

Oh, Grey, take Mr. Martin downstairs will you?

I want you, Sergeant.

Is there anything wrong, sir.

No. That's what's worrying me.

It's all too neat and tidy. It all adds up perfectly.

Too perfectly.

Don't you think that's just because you were lucky enough

to come across the evidence quickly, sir?

Maybe. I was wondering whether we were meant

to come across it.

You mean you believe the boy when he says

someone else put the pillow case in his car?

I don't know.

All I do know is that whoever planned this m*rder

was a clever man.

Cool, calculating, ruthless.

Clever.

Does that sound like Jimmy Martin to you?

You can never tell with those quiet ones.

He may have committed half a dozen other crimes

for all we know.

That's right. Perhaps he's Hitler in disguise.

He's about the right height.

Enjoying the view, Mr. Warren?

Good evening, Inspector.

No, I was just taking a walk.

Long way from home, isn't it?

As a matter of fact I'm not sleeping very well.

So I've taken to going for a long walk before I go to bed.

Do you usually come and look at Fenton's windows?

No, why?

Oh, I see what you mean.

The criminal returning to the scene of the crime

and all that.

I didn't say so.

No, I should hope you wouldn't.

Pity about young Martin, losing his head like that.

Yes, isn't it?

Nice boy.

Yes, I understand.

Well, remember me to your wife, won't you, sir.

If you don't mind, I don't think I will.

She doesn't like being reminded of unpleasant things.

Good night.

Did you take the tablets I gave you?

Yes, two the first night, three the second,

and four the third.

No effect?

None at all.

Haven't slept a wink for over a week.

It's getting me down, I don't mind telling you.

Have you suffered from insomnia before?

No.

Appetite all right?

So, so, nothing to speak of.

Any unusual business worries, anything of that sort?

No.

Nothing you can think of to account for it?

No.

I'll give you another prescription and see what that does.

But go easy on it. Only take them if it's absolutely necessary

and not more than two.

Let me know how you get on.

Thanks, doctor.

Hello.

When did you come back?

About half an hour ago.

You might look as if you were pleased to see me.

You suppose I am?

I thought you might be by now.

Give me a light.

Why did you go off like that?

I told you in my note.

Your hand's a little shaky, isn't it?

Yes, I haven't been sleeping very well.

You know you do look a little the worse for wear.

You don't seem very worried yourself.

I'm not.

You're tougher than I thought you were.

Not tough. Just logical and sensible.

You see, Lee, I thought the whole business out

quietly and reasonably.

And I've discovered two very important things.

What are they?

First that I love you, and second that you love me.

What makes you think that?

Why else should you be so jealous of every man

who so much as looks at me?

Why else should you k*ll d*ck and Jimmie?

To make you suffer something of what I've suffered.

But darling, that's silly, surely.

I never loved them the way I love you.

Is that true?

Of course it's true.

Why did you think I came back?

Why did you?

Because I was worried about you.

Why?

In case you might do something silly.

Why should I do that?

Because the responsibility for that boy's death

is getting too much for you, isn't it?

Yes, it is. I don't know what to do about it.

I can't think straight.

It's all my fault.

I should have made you see that nobody means anything to me

except you.

But what about Fenton and Martin?

They never meant that much.

But why did you...

Only because you weren't there and I was so bored

without you.

Vivien...

is that true?

Absolutely.

Glad I came back?

Yes.

Yes, I am.

But you're not completely happy, are you?

No.

You're still worrying about Jimmy Martin.

I can't let him hang now.

He's not going to. I'm going to prevent that.

No.

Yes, I must say that I was there.

No, that would drag you as an accomplice.

There must be some other way, some loophole,

if only I could think of it.

Yes, Lee, that's right.

There must be something you've forgotten.

No crime is ever perfect.

This one is.

Too perfect.

I saw to that.

I didn't know I was going to want to undo it all again.

But there must be something you've forgotten.

There must be.

Lee, try to think.

Please, try to think.

Oh, Fox.

Sir?

Mr. Warren's been telling me the real story

behind Fenton's death.

See what you think of it.

Do you mind, Mr. Warren?

But I've already told you.

Would you mind telling us again, for Sergeant Fox?

He's been working on the case with me.

I'd like him to hear it from the beginning.

Very well. As far as I can remember it was like this.

On the day that I arrived back from America

I reported at my office then rang up my wife.

She wasn't in, so I put in my reports,

cleared up and went on home.

I got to the flat at about 7 o'clock.

As my taxi drew up outside

I saw my wife getting into Martin's car.

I was naturally curious to know what was going on.

Wouldn't you have been?

So I waited until they were safely in the car.

Then I told my driver to follow them.

They went to a restaurant then to the theater.

When they came out after the show

I was there waiting for them.

I followed them again,

this time to a flat at Temple Court.

Of course I thought then that Martin was the reason

why Vivien hadn't written to me

and naturally I thought the flat was his.

So I waited outside for about ten minutes...

Wouldn't a normally jealous husband have broken in on them

right away?

I wanted to be certain. Cigarette?

So while I was wondering what I could do

they came out again.

I just had time to dodge around the corner out of sight.

They were laughing and talking

and I tried to catch what they were saying.

All I picked up was the man's name: Jimmy.

Oh, Jimmy..

And I didn't very much like the way she said it,

I can tell you.

After they'd gone I tried the door...

Which was conveniently open.

As a matter of fact it was. The catch hadn't dropped.

They often don't, unless you slam the door.

It happens in my flat, I'm sure it happens in yours.

So you went in...

I thought I'd wait and knock out the head off this Jimmy

when he came back.

I looked carefully around the apartment

taking everything in.

Then I went into the kitchen.

You know what I found there.

A man dead with his head in the gas oven.

I turned off the gas and picked up the letter.

It was addressed to Vivien. When I read it

I realized the flat didn't belong to Jimmy.

It belonged to the other poor devil whoever he was.

Then a thought struck me.

I could turn this suicide into a m*rder done by Jimmy.

That meant I had to get rid of every scrap of evidence

that my wife had ever been in the flat. It wasn't easy.

I had to think fast.

I put all cigarette stubs in my pocket.

Then I noticed the wastepaper basket.

It was full of unfinished letters.

I had a look at some of them.

They were all in the same strain.

He'd obviously made half a dozen shots at writing

that farewell letter before he got it the way he wanted it.

That gave me another idea. The best idea of all.

I left the finished letter in the wastepaper basket

and put all the rest in my pocket.

All except one. An unfinished one.

The one you found beside the body, Inspector.

Then I washed the glass Vivien had used

to remove her fingerprints.

How did you know which one was hers?

By instinct?

No. By lipstick.

Go on.

In the same way I got rid of the cigarette

she had been smoking,

leaving traces that only Martin had been there.

Traces that you were bound to discover, Inspector.

And what did you hope to achieve then by all this?

Exactly what did happen.

I knew that when I turned up my wife would have to deny

being in Fenton's flat with Martin.

And when the body was discovered she'd have to stick

to her story.

And when you, Inspector, found Fenton's first letter

and Martin's fingerprints all over the place...

after he'd denied having been there,

well, you were bound to wonder what had really happened,

weren't you?

Undoubtedly.

Of course I was mad and jealous of them,

trying all I could to hurt Martin.

I regret it very much now.

What did you do with all the letters you stuffed into

your pockets?

I took them away and destroyed them, of course.

Then I had to find a way to connect Martin

directly with the fake m*rder.

That wasn't easy. If Fenton had shot himself

there would have been a g*n.

But gas? Then I had a really brilliant idea.

You know, the gas mask thing.

I set to work and made it.

How it could possibly be used in a strong healthy man

even I can't imagine.

But I knew if it was found on Martin

it would make things even worse for him.

You mean to tell me it was never used?

Of course not. I invented it.

Then how do you explain the fact...

That it was impregnated with gas?

Yes.

Because in my thorough way...

I didn't forget to play the gas jet over it.

Very clever indeed, Mr. Warren.

And at the risk of appearing a trifle dense myself,

may I ask how you planted it in the car

of a person you didn't know?

Quite simple. Martin's car was outside my own front door

when I returned from Fenton's flat.

Where exactly did you put the contrivance?

In the back right-hand side of the luggage compartment.

Correct?

So what you're saying is Fenton committed suicide

and you made it look like m*rder.

Is that it?

It is.

Very interesting, eh, Fox?

Yes, sir. Very.

Will that be all, Inspector?

Yes, that'll be all.

For the moment.

They swallowed it. Hook, line and sinker.

You're sure?

Quite sure. Mind you, I was pretty good.

You didn't say too much?

George, a Scotch.

Good Lord, no. Just a few frills here and there, you know.

You weren't nervous?

No, I had a couple of drinks before I went in

just to start me off. After that, all set.

Oh, Lee, I do hope so.

What are you worried about?

Have another drink.

George, a dry Martini. I'll have another Scotch.

Mr. Warren, there's a gentleman to see you.

Oh, thanks.

Sorry to worry you again so soon, Mr. Warren.

That's all right. You've come to arrest me for obstruction

or withholding evidence or something I suppose.

No, we don't want you. We've got Martin.

Surely my confession clears Martin.

That's just it, Mr. Warren. We don't altogether like

your confession, as you call it.

In fact, we're not inclined to believe it.

Unless you can produce a little more tangible evidence

to support it.

Why should I trouble to invent a story like that?

Oh, because you were grateful to Martin

for getting rid of Fenton so conveniently for you.

Or because your wife asked you to.

That's all nonsense.

Everything I told you this morning is the truth.

Perhaps I'm rather dull,

but frankly I don't believe any man could think

as fast as you say you did.

But I warn you that's the evidence I shall give

if you bring Martin to trial.

Do you really think you should?

You're sitting pretty.

Why save him at the expense of yourself?

Because I can't see an innocent man hang.

That isn't what you thought a fortnight ago.

But I found out since then there was nothing

between Martin and my wife.

Your wife told you that?

She did.

And I believed her.

I wish I could believe you, sir, but I can't.

What more do you want?

Just something to convince me that your story is true.

That you really were in the flat that night.

Let me think.

There must be something.

I know. There's a dish cloth over the oven door

to keep the gas in.

Oh, come now. That's the sort of thing you could have read

in the News of the World any time.

Wait a minute.

The kitchen, I've got it.

Someone had knocked the milk over.

There was a pool of milk on the floor.

Is that enough for you?

Hmm.

You know, it almost looks as though you really were

in Fenton's flat that night.

Of course I was.

But I still don't think your story is true.

Now you're being insulting.

I hope not, sir, I don't mean to be.

You know, sir, I learned a great deal about art

in a case once.

It seems that every artist has a certain style.

And often it's not necessary for an expert to see the signature

on a picture.

He can recognize the artist from the style.

What's that got to do with me?

Just this, sir. Your alibi for Martin is too slick.

If he had told me your story,

I'd have been more inclined to believe it.

You see, it has the same style about it as the m*rder.

Good afternoon, sir.

Inspector Penbury, Madam.

Good afternoon.

Good afternoon, Inspector.

What can I do for you?

Well, as a matter of fact, I've come to ask your help.

I can't believe you need that.

Two heads are better than one, you know.

It was your husband's idea.

Really?

Yes. He came to see me today and told me

an extraordinary story.

He said that Fenton really committed suicide,

but because your husband was jealous of Martin,

he arranged things to look as if Fenton

had been m*rder*d by Martin.

I know. He told me all about it.

I said he ought to go straight to you.

I'm afraid it won't work, you know.

I don't know what you mean.

It's quite clear, surely. I don't believe your story

and I'm not going to release Martin.

Well, if that's your attitude,

I don't know what I can do about it.

You could persuade your husband to confess

that he m*rder*d Fenton.

What makes you think my husband k*lled him?

Everything points to it.

You must be joking.

No, no.

If you were to ask me at this moment who m*rder*d Fenton

I should have to say Mr. Warren.

But I can't prove it.

He's been too clever for us so far.

But I can prove it against Martin.

So either you've got to help me or I've got to go ahead

and help hang a man who is probably innocent.

I think you'd better go.

What you're suggesting is insulting and ridiculous.

Very well.

Look, Mrs. Warren, when Martin comes up for trial

you'll be called as a witness.

There will be a lot of dirty linen washed in public.

But if your husband confesses, we shan't have to call you.

You'll make a very attractive widow.

To put it bluntly, don't you think it's a question of which

of the two you prefer? Your husband or Mr. Martin?

How dare you! Of course I prefer my husband.

You rang, Madam?

Yes, Rita.

I've got two seats for the Follies tonight.

We can't go. Would you like them?

It's not my evening off till tomorrow, madam.

That doesn't matter. You take tonight off as well.

Thank you very much, Madam.

I'll leave the tickets on the hall table for you.

Now you go and ring your boyfriend.

Yes, thank you, Madam.

Hello, darling.

Hello.

You're late.

Yes, I am a bit.

Gosh, I'm tired.

Come in here and I'll give you a nice drink.

Thanks.

Had a busy day?

Not particularly.

You've been overdoing it again, you know.

Yes, I suppose I have.

I walked home.

Good heavens, why?

I wanted to think.

Penbury was at the office this afternoon.

He's been here, too.

What did he say?

Don't worry, darling. Put your feet up and relax.

There we are.

I can handle him.

What did he want?

He was just probing around as usual.

I think he knows I did it.

Did he say so?

No, but he kept on hinting.

He said he didn't believe a word of my story.

He said more than that to me.

What?

He said he was quite sure you did it.

There you are.

But he knew he couldn't prove it.

I'm not so sure.

But I am and so is he.

He admitted he hadn't a thing to go on.

Now shut your eyes, darling, and rest up a bit.

Oh, I'm just off, Madam.

Have a good time. You look very nice tonight, Rita.

Thank you, Madam.

What on earth are you doing?

Packing.

I can see that. What for?

We're taking a trip.

Don't be an idiot, Vivien. I can't stand any more tonight.

Listen, Lee. I found the answer to the whole wretched business.

You remember Pierre?

No, who's Pierre?

Pierre Roget. The lawyer we met in Paris.

Well, what about him?

He's back in London. I spoke to him this afternoon.

You didn't tell him anything, about me, I mean?

Yes, I did.

You shouldn't have done that.

Suppose he goes to the police.

He won't. I know Pierre. You can trust him absolutely.

I hope you're right.

Of course I'm right.

Besides, a lawyer is like a doctor, or a priest.

They never repeat anything.

All right. What did he say?

He's very smart, you know that.

And he says the best thing for you to do

is to get out of the country at once.

Not a hope.

We'd be stopped before we got across the Chanel.

Pierre says not.

He says they can't stop you without charging you.

And you know they can't do that.

He's flying back to Paris in the morning.

We can have two seats on his plane.

It'll never work.

It's got to work.

Oh, yes, and there's one other thing.

Pierre said you shouldn't just walk out.

That might look bad, as though you were running away.

He said you should write the Inspector a note...

saying you're going away to avoid the publicity.

I don't very much like the sound of that.

Well, that's what Pierre said.

I'd better telephone.

No, darling, don't do that.

He particularly said not, in case the line is tapped.

Yes, I suppose they might do that.

Now, perhaps I...

Don't move, darling. I'll get you some writing paper.

He said write the note and leave it here.

Then take the car...

Darling.

Then take the car down to the airport in the morning.

All right.

I'll try anything once.

There you are. The envelopes are in there.

Vivien.

Hm?

Do I have to write this tonight?

Darling, the plane leaves at 7:30.

I can't see you doing it in the morning.

I don't know what to say.

Tell them the truth. You're fed up,

you can't stand the publicity so you're getting out.

I wouldn't say too much.

I don't like putting things down on paper.

You never know what people will make of them afterwards.

Please yourself, darling.

I'm only telling you what Pierre said.

Well, I've got to have another drink first.

The only drink you're going to have tonight is hot milk.

I hate milk.

Maybe just a little whiskey in it?

Please.

Don't go yet. Tell me what to say first.

I'm no good at letter writing. That's your job.

You might give me a start.

Darling, I've told you what to say.

You're fed up, you can't stand the publicity

and so you're getting out while the going's good.

Now get on with it.

Finished?

Just about.

Oh, thanks.

May I?

Of course.

I never know whether it's the milk that spoils the whiskey

or the whiskey...

spoils the milk.

You can't have it both ways, darling.

Oh, Ernie!

What's up?

Lost the tickets?

No, I've just remembered I left them

on the hall table in the flat.

Well, that's stolid.

What do we do now?

We have to go back.

We'll miss half the show.

No, we won't. Not if we hurry.

See if you can get a taxi.

That's made me feel really drowsy.

I'm not surprised. I put some of your tablets in it.

Good. How many?

Twenty.

Twenty?

That'll k*ll me.

Yes, dear.

Vivien, I'm serious.

Yes, Lee. I'm quite serious.

But why have you done it?

Just when we're together again...

and we have it all.

I'm afraid that was just a fable, dear.

You see, if I hadn't made you think that I loved you,

and I was ready to go away with you,

you would never have saved Jimmy.

So you do love him.

Yes.

Yes, Lee, I do.

Let me see...

go and get a doctor, please, before it's too late.

Please.

Please.

It is too late, Lee. But you needn't worry.

You won't feel anything.

You'll just get sleepier and sleepier.

Vivien...

for pity's sake.

I don't want you to die, Lee.

But you've got to.

Why?

So that I may go on living the way I want to live.

Good evening. I want to speak to you for a moment.

I was just going out.

I won't keep you very long.

It's about Jimmy.

All right. What is it?

He asked me to give you this.

He said there wasn't any point in his keeping it

any longer.

You're lying. Jimmy would never say that to me.

I know Jimmy.

Do you, Mrs. Warren?

Get out!

Very well. Good night.

Help! Help!

What's the trouble?

Mr. Warren, he's dead.

Tell me. is there a doctor in this block?

Yes, on the floor below.

Go and get him, quick.

Inspector Penbury.

Yes, quickly.

Can I ask him another question?

You can, but it won't do any good.

I'm afraid we were too late.

Vivien...

Vivien...

Have you anything to tell us, sir?

No, madam, Mr. Martin won't see you.

Did you tell him who it was?

Did you say it was Mrs. Warren?

Yes, I told him. And he still doesn't want to see you.

But I must see him. It's very important.

I'm sorry, madam.

But you don't understand, it's very urgent.

Mr. Martin was most definite.

He said there was nothing he had to say to you.

She's here, sir. In the lift.

Please, Inspector, not again.

As you say, Mrs. Warren. Not again.

I think this is the last time.

Have you seen my husband?

Yes, madam.

Mr. Warren is in the bedroom. He died a few minutes ago.

We were too late to save him.

But we were just in time to learn how helpful you'd been

in effecting his release.

I don't know what you mean.

Don't you, Mrs. Warren?

Then you'd better come along with me to the station

and I'll explain more fully.

Yours, madam?

Till death us do part.