Grievous Bodily Harm (1988) - full transcript
A schoolteacher (John Waters) becomes obsessed with the idea that his wife (Joy Bell) did not die in a car accident, as everyone else thinks.
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
EDDIE: Hey!
MEDIC: There's one.
(EDDIE COUGHING)
EDDIE: Get me out.
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
EDDIE: Help! Help!
Come on,
let me out.
MEDIC: Take it easy, mate.
You'll be all right.
(SIREN WAILING)
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
(MEN CHATTERING ON RADIO)
(HORNS HONKING)
MAN ON RADIO: Car into
a truck, confirmed
persons trapped.
There is a police vehicle
at the scene.
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
EDDIE: No,
mind the leg!
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
MEDIC: What's that mean?
Get that
light in here!
(SIREN WAILING)
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
Come on,
let me out!
That's good.
Open the clutches.
MEDIC 1: Done.
MEDIC 2: Thanks again.
Keep that
generator going!
Move it!
Move it!
More light.
(CHATTER ON RADIO)
MAN ON RADIO: There was
an armed hold-up in the
city earlier.
EDDIE: Hey!
(EDDIE COUGHING)
Get me out!
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
Not the leg!
MEDIC 1: Well, we got
the door and the clamp.
MEDIC 2:
Steady now.
Don't move him.
MAN: Hey, get on the radio,
we're going to need
a heavy duty...
STEWART: Agos, tell me
what we've got?
AGOSTINO: Yeah. Come
and give us a hand.
Anybody we know?
Yeah, Eddie Weaks,
Phillips, too,
but he's gone.
Well, keep him talking,
Tom. We don't want him
nodding off.
Righto!
MEDIC: Come on,
get it over here!
Nice driving,
Eddie.
Wait till they find
out you haven't got
a license.
It's no joke,
Stewart.
Come on, Eddie,
hang in, you'll
be all right.
Not this time, mate.
MEDIC: Get that light
in here, come on!
Under my seat.
Give it to Suzie.
MEDIC: Don't try to
move, we'll have you
out in a second.
Suzie, right?
Right, Eddie,
she'll get it,
I promise.
You'd better.
MEDIC: Get these
people out of here,
come on.
Hang in there, now.
Got enough shots
of this?
PHOTOGRAPHER:
Yeah, don't worry.
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
MICK: Is he
all right?
STEWART: No, he's not
going to make it.
Tom, been promoted
to car accidents?
No, Ray, demoted
to bank robbery.
Where to?
You know Artie
Wincer's place
down on the beach?
Yeah.
There in a hurry.
I've got to call home,
the kid's sick.
Sure, do it when
we get there.
Thank you for your concern.
(SIREN WAILING)
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
(BUZZING)
SUZIE: Hello?
Hello, Suzie. It's
Tom Stewart here.
I think you
might remember me,
I'm the journalist.
Ah, listen, Suzie,
I have to talk to
you about Eddie.
(BELL BUZZING)
Look, love, they
would have thrown
the book at him.
He wouldn't have
seen daylight again.
Suzie.
(CLEARS THROAT)
Eddie wanted you
to have this.
SUZIE: Traceable?
(LAUGHS)
Knowing Eddie,
I wouldn't think so,
would you?
What, there could be
10, 15 grand there?
Tide you over
for a bit,
wouldn't it?
Well, I want
an exclusive on him.
You bastards are
all the same.
Nah, we liked Eddie.
I don't want to
tip a bucket on him.
I just want to
tell his story.
Look at it
this way, Suzie.
A big page one sendoff.
You right, Mick?
(CLEARS THROAT)
First time I met Eddie...
Hang on, hang on.
The first time
I met Eddie...
MICK: Your methods
are getting worse,
Thomas.
Yeah, I like
to think so.
Comes from your
warm sense of
charity, does it?
Look, mate, I promised
Eddie I'd give her
the money.
I can't believe
your bloody gall.
Don't worry about it.
Don't worry
about anything.
Just forget it.
MORRIS: Stewart had
overcome many obstacles
through his experience,
initiative and guile...
So although
this is a novel,
in a very real sense,
it also is not.
Do you know
what I mean?
Let's have a look
at what Stewart's done.
He's taken a real
criminal case
and he's turned it,
very cleverly,
into an indictment
against a system
that he believes
discriminates
against the underprivileged
in our society.
Check out the title.
A Killing for the Crown.
Now this seems
to suggest
that justice has become
some kind of a blood sport,
as opposed to a real
assessment of the truth.
Although since publication,
some doubts
have been cast
upon the authenticity
of Stewart's information.
Don't you think, Natalie?
Sir?
MORRIS: Natalie?
Please.
Mr. Prentice.
Do you think Stewart's
book is responsible
for the retrial
and acquittal
of James Edward Hodges
or do you think
it was misled?
I don't know.
No. Of course you don't.
But then you don't
know much, do you?
Since your mind rarely
raises itself above
belt level.
Anyone we know?
(STUDENTS LAUGHING)
Well, Prentice,
since you seem intent
on discussing the
artistic merits
of this particular work,
I suggest you take
it directly to the
headmaster.
Oh shit, no!
Oh, shit, yes!
It's not mine.
Quit hassling me.
I believe we were
discussing Stewart's
use of non-fiction
as a weapon
against social injustice.
(BELL RINGING)
(STUDENTS CHATTERING)
HEADMASTER: Morris,
this business with
young Prentice...
I assure you, it
won't happen again.
Well, that's very
gratifying to hear,
but I don't think I can
let the matter rest there,
for all concerned.
You know how
deeply sorry
we all feel
about Claudine.
Look, Morris, the
holidays will give
you a chance to relax.
However, today's actions
are totally unacceptable,
and if it
happens again...
Thanks for your
support, Harry.
(TRAIN HORN BLOWING)
(PLANE ENGINE HUMMING)
What's happening?
Bloody hopeless.
Tom Stewart isn't
back there by any
chance, is he?
Yeah, I think so.
Get him.
(MEN CHATTERING)
Stewart.
Yeah?
Detective Sergeant
Birch wants a chat.
Aren't I lucky.
Come on, Mick!
Not you.
Bit of strife, Ray?
Tried everything,
want to talk to him?
Not especially.
Your scoop.
Yeah, my ass, too.
Derek, get everyone
out of sight.
He's got a shotgun,
so stop where I
tell you.
POLICEMAN: Right,
everyone back!
Oh, thanks, Ray.
You'll be all right.
I want everyone
out of here.
Right out.
Behind the car,
come on!
Everyone out of
here. Come on.
That's far enough, Tom.
POLICEMAN: Behind
the car, come on.
BIRCH: Leslie.
I know you don't
want to talk to us.
But the gentleman standing
out there is a reporter
by the name
of Tom Stewart.
You've probably
heard of him.
He wants to hear
your side of the story.
What do you say?
Les.
I don't want to
pry into your
personal affairs.
Whatever reason
you've got for
doing this,
I'm sure is
a good one
in your eyes.
Look.
All I want to do
is talk to you
and get your
side of this.
Maybe take
a photograph.
That seem fair?
What about the coppers?
They just want to
wrap this up, go home
and have a beer.
They don't want blood.
They're just doing their job.
Well, I'll think about it.
I'll think about it.
(TRAIN HORN BLOWING)
(RIFLE FIRES)
POLICEMAN: Keep
down, everyone.
(FIRING GUN)
Derek will bring
your mate up. Coming?
Detective Arno
will look after you.
Just wait here
a minute, please.
...shot first.
Three counts of rape,
two attempted murders,
he wouldn't have
let that girl go.
Yeah, stops
overcrowding
the jails, Ray.
Get real, Tom.
Don't do me
any more fucking
favors, all right?
There were two shots.
Leslie fired
first at you
and I saved your life.
You do understand
how the story will
read, don't you?
By the way, great
exclusive on Eddie
Weaks' girl.
I don't know
how you do it.
I really don't.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
Ladies and gentlemen.
Austen Tayshus.
(PEOPLE CHEERING)
Thank you so
much. Thank you.
Wonderful to be here,
really wonderful.
The date is December 24th
in the year zero.
The place, Palestine.
(AUSTEN WHISTLING
TWILIGHT ZONE THEME)
(PEOPLE LAUGHING)
The scene, a dusty road,
the road from Nazareth.
How the fuck did I know
it was named after a band
that had a number one
hit, Love Hurts?
Okay, we look up
at the sky and
what do we see?
A big bright star
shining down on the
tiny village of Bethlehem.
Astrological science informs
us today, of course,
that this was undoubtedly
the earliest recorded
manifestation
of Halley's comet.
The real one.
Not the hazy fucking
fuzz-ball we got this
time around.
So Joseph, right,
the poor but
humble carpenter,
comes schlepping down
the road leading a donkey.
And on the donkey
sits his wife Mary
and three children,
Ezekiel, Eli...
(PEOPLE LAUGHING)
Sorry.
Claudine!
Mary is heavy with child
and the child is not his.
Claudine!
(CAR HORN HONKS)
MICK: My God,
don't you ever
give up?
A favor I've
got to get out.
Seems I didn't see
what I actually saw.
And the moral is?
Keep your contacts...
(TYPING)
...and just write the story.
OPERATOR: The number
you have called is
not connected.
Please check the number
before calling again.
I repeat, please check
the number before...
(PHONE RINGING)
Vivian Enderby.
MORRIS: Viv?
Morris?
Is Claude there, Viv?
Oh, Morris.
Tell her I'm
getting lonely.
No, no, Morris,
not tonight, please.
Back at four,
she said in
the note.
You drink too much.
If she's not with you,
I'll have to start calling
the hospitals.
It's Morris on his
hospital rounds again.
I'll go over.
He should have pulled
himself together by now.
Would you if
you lost me?
It really is
Morris, is it?
(SIRENS WAILING)
DEREK: Wait!
BIRCH: Problem?
The word is Pellegrini's
not impressed with
your report
on the shooting
at the warehouse.
For Christ's sake,
I get fucking results,
don't I?
Yeah, it's just that
I've got to front up
in the morning
and answer
some questions.
Just tell him
the truth, Derek.
Leslie was about
to shoot.
He was an evil
little bugger
who would have
killed the girl
and the bloke anyway.
I mean, what do those
pricks upstairs know?
They've forgotten
what it's like out here.
Just leave the high-minded
stuff to the likes
of Stewart, okay?
Have a look
at those proofs.
(SIGHS)
And I'll have a Scotch
on your royalties check.
Yeah.
$11.60.
They just sold
my 173rd copy.
Ah! Don't get maudlin,
mate. The book was good.
The book was bullshit.
He was guilty and every
other bastard knew it.
You were set up.
I was set up.
Not to mention
the publishers,
your friends
who backed you,
me, the typist,
the barman.
His wife.
His children.
(CHUCKLES)
Drinks for everybody.
Except him.
VIVIAN: You said
you'd wipe these.
MORRIS: She's
so beautiful,
isn't she?
You promised.
Why should I?
Because it's the past,
and Stephen's paranoid
about his patients
finding out.
To say nothing of
the medical tribunal.
Leave it.
Then destroy it
as you promised.
I never did understand
your obsession with
recording everything.
Where is she, Viv?
You're wearing us
all out, Morris.
I saw her again.
When?
Tonight.
Morris,
Claudine is dead.
Yes, I know,
you've told me.
Take your hands away.
No.
Please.
I think you've been
keeping something
from me.
We were so smart
and smug and
sophisticated.
We exploited her.
(MOANS)
You're not supposed
to do it that hard.
You taught me.
I thought you liked it.
You look lovely.
(SIGHS)
I can only stay
a little while.
Coming in?
No, I've got
to get home.
Don't fuck around,
Derek, I'm offering
you a drink.
Look, I'm pushed
for time, maybe
tomorrow.
You know, you don't
have to work with me.
Come off it, Ray.
I really have
to get home.
Yeah.
(CAR DOOR OPENING)
Fucking weather.
(THUNDER CRASHING)
VIVIAN: What do you want?
Hmm?
(SIGHS)
VIVIAN: You've got
too many things
on your mind, Morris.
You got to start
enjoying yourself.
You're not exactly
the first person
it's ever happened to.
Morris, are you dead?
It really isn't
a big deal.
Morris!
You good at names?
That's my book.
Both of them?
Let's see.
Seker. Pfiefer.
What is this?
I did see her,
you know, Viv, tonight.
She got away,
but she left
her handbag.
She's Jennifer
Reynolds now.
Did you know that?
Morris!
Plenty of books like
that around, Morris.
Yes, I'm sure.
Names, addresses,
men mostly.
What's that?
In you.
Morris, don't
be ridiculous.
You lied.
Don't...
(GASPING)
(WOMAN EXCLAIMS)
Bloody idiot, Ray!
Ray!
What do you
think of that, eh?
(SCREAMING)
You won't let another
man in here, will you?
Will you? Will you?
You little bitch!
(SOBBING)
(WOMAN SCREAMING)
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
(SIGHING)
BIRCH: Good day.
Ray.
Any problem?
Nah, nah,
no problem,
just dropped in
for a friendly chat.
On your own?
And what do you
want to chat about?
I thought you might
need some advice
from someone
who knows the traps.
That'd be you, Ray!
(CLEARS THROAT)
Kill for a drink.
(CHUCKLES)
I believe you would.
You know, you're
pretty smart for
a young fellow.
Oh, I'm glad
you think so.
But you lack
one thing.
Oh, yeah,
what's that?
Edge.
Edge?
Yeah. Take that
book of yours.
How did you feel
when my old mate Hodges
told you that he
really had murdered
his sister-in-law?
It wasn't hard to
persuade him to tell
you, you know.
That was a pretty
good set-up, Ray,
I never did
thank you for it.
Well, it's
not too late.
Oh, I'll write
the story, all right.
I wouldn't worry, Ray,
I'm not stupid.
Nah. I know
you're not stupid.
But you are a mug.
Tell me why?
You could have
made a fortune
with your book.
Not here, it's
too late, granted.
But overseas,
they lap that
shit up.
Sells the conscience.
And that's where
you lack edge.
You don't
follow through.
You see, Ray, money's
not that important to me.
Don't kid yourself.
Look, Tom, you've still
got a bright future,
if you remember
who your mates are.
How could I forget?
Got any good tapes?
(PHONE RINGING)
(PHONE RINGING CONTINUES)
(DOOR OPENING)
(PHONE RINGING)
(DOORBELL RINGING)
Where is she?
Good morning,
long time no see.
Was Vivian here
last night?
Oh, I don't know.
Was she here
or wasn't she?
I told you,
I haven't
got a clue.
I was pissed
as a fart.
Did you phone
her last night?
I was just
reminiscing,
actually.
You said you'd
destroyed all those.
Hmm. I lied.
I want any with
Vivian or myself
in them destroyed.
Yeah, I'm not surprised.
Hardly the sort of thing
for a leading surgeon
to be doing, is it?
Dear Christ.
How did Claudine
ever put up with you?
Amazing how one's
friends change over
the years, isn't it?
Rather tragic, actually.
And quite repellant.
You're a failure
in every respect,
aren't you, Morris?
We're all fed up to the
eye teeth with you and
your absurd fantasies.
Vivian and
myself especially.
Oh, please, do try
and forgive me.
Ray.
What have you got?
It seems that Eddie and
Phillips got away with
quite a bit the other night.
Well, how much?
The trouble is nobody
appears to have been
keeping records,
so they can't
tell us just yet.
Bloody marvelous.
Not even
a rough idea?
Only that it's a lot.
What the fuck's
a lot, Derek?
Twenty thousand,
a hundred thousand,
a million?
A lot! Just a lot.
A lot.
Thanks, Bill.
Tom Stewart here,
I believe there's
a call for me?
See you, Tom.
Yes, Neil.
I'll be right there.
The body of a naked woman
in the boot of a submerged
car over at Kernel.
Come on.
It'll never
get you to New York.
It will if I can prove
she did it herself.
(CHATTER ON POLICE RADIO)
Who is she?
Bloke over there's
wife, Enderby.
Well, you got
what you want?
No, not quite yet.
Well, all right,
I'll go and get this
developed at the lab.
The Herald bloke's
giving me a lift.
Righto, Mick,
see you there.
No problem.
STEWART: Come on, Ray.
Don't give me that
classified information
rubbish.
Give me a lead.
BIRCH: Enderby says this
guy, Morris Martin
could've been the last one
to see her alive. That's it.
That's enough.
I'll find him.
(DOORBELL RINGING)
(CAT MEOWING)
Shit!
(SIGHS)
Hello there.
Did you want something?
Yeah, I wanted
to see Mr. Martin.
He's not there.
He left after the
policeman came.
Did Mr. Martin say
when he'd be back?
He came over this morning
and talked to Mummy.
He'll be coming
back tomorrow
morning, he said.
What I'm saying,
Ray, is
things don't work
the way they used
to anymore.
And what way
was that, sir?
The story we've
got, Birch,
is that the guy went down
after the first shot,
not the second.
You must know
what it's like
out there, sir.
Maybe you don't.
There were a lot of
things happening
that day.
Wouldn't be difficult
for things to get distorted
in people's minds.
Tell me, exactly
who was it, Mr...
Stansfield.
Mr. Stansfield,
that saw it this way?
That'll be all
for now, Birch.
Very good, sir.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
Hello. My name
is Morris Martin,
I am looking
for Mr. Seker.
I'm afraid Mr. Seker
is not available,
Mr. Martin.
May I help you?
I was hoping to
locate my wife.
I have reason to
believe she's been
living in the area.
I'm sorry,
I haven't
seen her.
It's a small community,
I would have known.
I see. Thank you.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
Mr. Seker?
What do you want?
You can help me.
I think not,
Mr. Martin.
And you're looking
for your wife?
I've seen
the pictures.
That's trespassing.
Tell me about them,
about how you came
to know her.
I advise you
to get out.
(SCREAMING)
(DOORBELL BUZZING)
(DOG BARKING)
Are you ill?
STEWART: Never felt
better in my life.
Your timing's bad.
So, how have
you been?
Fine. I'm due at
the hospital in
20 minutes.
Annie, can I ask you
a really big favor?
Ah, this'll be good.
Would it be all
right if I stayed
here for tonight?
I won't be
here till 5:00.
That's all right,
I won't wait up.
Ah, you won't have to
because you'll be in
the spare room.
Great. I'll just
put this in there.
Can't thank
you enough.
All right.
Been strangely quiet
about Eddie Weaks'
little haul.
I thought you might
be able to help.
I'd like to, Sarge,
but nobody's heard
a thing.
Strike you as odd?
Very.
Meaning?
Meaning it must
have been outsiders
involved.
Or they dumped it
before the crash.
Very good, Jimmy.
They rob a bank,
know they're gonna have
a smash, so they bury
the money.
You're gonna have to
do better than that,
officer.
(DOOR OPENING)
Good morning.
What are you
doing in here?
Reading a book.
Tom, we're divorced.
Ah! That was ages ago.
Was it?
So, how's work?
Shithouse.
You know, at the risk
of repeating myself,
this really is the
asshole of the world.
Yeah, I think
I've heard that
somewhere before.
So, it's still
New York then?
Fuck New York.
Then, what
do you want?
No. No.
Hmm.
No, no, no, no.
Don't.
No, no, no.
No, come here, please.
Listen to me. Sit.
(SIGHS)
We should
have had kids.
And have them
end up like you?
You've got a point.
God, I liked you once.
I even liked
me, too, once.
(DOORBELL RINGING)
Tom Stewart.
(CHUCKLES)
MAN ON TV:
Detective Ray Birch,
who in turn was
promoted through
these investigations
was able to establish...
You made the whole
thing yourself?
Yes.
It's a sort of
hobby of mine.
I really admired
your book very much.
That's why I used it
with the kids.
I don't suppose
you'd mind
uh, maybe, writing
something on it
for me?
By all means.
Thanks.
What can I say?
(CLEARS THROAT)
I take it all that stuff
about fabricated evidence
was just a smear tactic.
No. Not entirely,
Morris. Um...
The truth of the matter
is that he actually did
do it.
He told me so
after the second trial.
You had no idea?
There was a
sneaking suspicion,
but it didn't stop
me writing it.
Thanks.
Another drink?
Never say no.
You see, I'm working
on the Enderby murder
and if you could help me
with a couple of questions,
it might give me
a clearer line
on the story.
Sure.
Well, first off,
I understand that
Dr. Enderby said
you rang his wife
the night she was killed.
Yes, I know,
the police told me.
In fact, I hadn't seen
or spoken to Viv for,
I don't know,
about a month.
It's odd, isn't it,
that he'd say
you were the last
person she spoke to?
Well, we've been friends
for a long time and...
Well, the truth is Vivian
is rather fond of other men,
if you know
what I mean.
I don't know if Stephen
would put quite such
a fine point on it.
So, she used a mutual
friend as an alibi?
That sort of thing, yeah.
I see.
Do you mind if I ask
a personal question, Morris?
No.
I understand your
own wife died six
months ago.
Yes.
She died in Paris.
A car accident.
That's her there.
A very beautiful lady.
There was never anyone
more beautiful.
I'm sorry.
MAN ON TV:
The well-known artist
Laslo Seker
and his housekeeper
Madeleine Kovitch.
Police are baffled by
the ferocity of the attack.
And now, the weather...
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
Carrot juice?
Scotch.
Of course.
I'll join you.
Good to see you.
You like?
It's different.
To Vivian.
It was bound
to happen.
Do you want to
talk about it?
Barb, did Claude go back
to what she used to do?
What?
Look, I tried
all the travel agencies,
every single one of them.
Nobody's ever heard of her.
It just doesn't make sense.
Could she still be
alive? Do you think
that's possible?
No, darling. I don't
see how she could be.
But you'd tell me,
wouldn't you,
if you even
suspected anything?
All I know is that
a year before she died,
she was working for
some woman called Spicer.
So she only
pretended to go overseas.
Morris, it's passed.
She loved you and only you.
Leave it at that.
I need to talk to
this Spicer woman.
Why?
Barbara, please.
It won't do
you any good.
Spicer. Eve.
What if I told
you I'd seen her?
Seen Claudine.
What would you say?
I only wish I could
believe you had.
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
All right,
ladies and
gentlemen,
turning to crime
as we all should have
done ages ago.
Ken, I want you to
work up something
on the Seker murders.
Mist-shrouded house
in the mountains,
that kind of crap.
(CLEARING THROAT)
Neil, could I grab that one?
Ken won't mind,
will you, Ken?
All right, Tom,
as long as you
don't turn it into
a book again.
(ALL LAUGHING)
Now, Carol, I've got
something here for
you as well.
(BUZZING)
You all right?
I'll see you back
in the car, Mick.
Mick, you got
your Polaroid
with you?
Yeah.
Give it to
me, will you?
Be careful with it.
You bet.
Hey, out.
This area is
off limits.
What's wrong?
You wouldn't believe it
if I told you.
Back to the
paper then?
Yeah, I'll go
on from there.
(PHONE RINGING)
EVE ON ANSWERING MACHINE:
This is Eve Spicer speaking.
I'm unable to come
to the phone at the moment,
but if you'd care
to leave your name
and number...
(DOORBELL RINGING)
(DOOR CLOSING)
(CAT MEOWING)
STEWART: No, I'm sure
it's the same girl.
How old?
I can't tell ages,
late twenties, I guess.
Is she pretty?
Yes, she is. Very.
I thought you said
she was dead?
EVE: If the matter is very
urgent, you may like to try
360-1448. Thank...
(PHONE RINGING)
WOMAN: Yes,
may I help you?
Eve Spicer, please.
Out of town this
evening, she'll be
back in the morning.
Any message?
Don't worry,
I'll call back.
STEPHEN: She was
a delightful person,
warm, intelligent
and beautiful.
A rare creature.
STEWART: What sort
of a job did she
have, Doctor?
She was an
overseas tour guide.
Oh, yeah, who with?
I've no idea.
She wasn't ever
a model, was she?
An artist's model?
Not to my knowledge.
Look, I'm sorry, Stewart,
but I promised I'd
look in on a patient.
Sure.
Thanks for the drink.
(CAR DOOR CLOSING)
(CAR ENGINE STARTING)
(DOOR OPENING)
(DOOR CLOSING)
Satisfying your insatiable
curiosity, Stewart?
In a way.
Actually, I was looking
for the tapes you took
from Morris Martin's house.
I suppose it's
a bit embarrassing
to leave that sort of
stuff lying around.
I'll thank you not
to pry into my
personal affairs.
Well, given the
circumstances,
there might be a bit of
public interest here.
By dragging my name
and that of my late wife
through the mud, is that
what you're implying?
No, I'm not
implying that.
I just want to find
out what's going on.
You have no private
life, then, I take it?
No personal secrets,
no habits you prefer
not disclosed
in lurid detail on
the front page of
your newspaper?
Weren't we discussing
your situation?
No, no,
we're discussing yours.
If you don't leave me
alone, you'll find
yourself in prison.
That a threat, Doc?
Yes.
I thought so.
Oh, Mick,
can you make out
a post-mark on this?
The dark glasses help?
MICK: Twenty-eighth
of December?
Not October, is it?
I don't think so, why?
Hmm.
It doesn't matter.
Drink?
Can't. Gotta go.
Well, where you
gonna be?
Out.
Then either back here
or round at Annie's.
You two friends again?
Never enemies, mate,
just incompatible.
Thirsty?
They were marvelous
times, Mr. Stewart.
Unconventional times.
We were all
very close.
Was Morris ever in love
with Vivian Enderby?
In love?
If you mean by that,
did Morris ever sleep
with Vivian,
the answer is yes.
But then, so did
we all at various times.
You mean,
Stephen and Morris...
And Vivian and
myself, yes.
Didn't Stephen explain?
No, he didn't.
Well, he must
be a little
shy these days.
Wasn't Morris married
to a Claudine...
Vargas.
Yes.
No, he was
married to me.
I don't quite understand.
Claudine was an
English girl we
met in Spain,
San Sebastian, actually.
You see, we even
used to take our
holidays together.
She and Morris
fell in love.
You realize
what she was?
No.
She was a whore,
Mr. Stewart.
A very beautiful
and highly paid whore.
She was utterly
charming and captivating
and in a very real
sense, we were all
in love with her.
(BELL BUZZING)
EVE: Yes?
Mrs. Spicer,
my name is Martin,
you were
recommended to me.
It's the top floor,
Mr. Martin.
(BELL BUZZING)
(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)
Mr. Martin?
Won't you
come through.
Tell me.
Do you think it's possible
that Claudine Vargas
is still alive?
Well, what an
extraordinary question.
Is it?
I understood it
was Vivian you
wanted to discuss.
I think it's
all connected.
Do you really?
Is that Claudine?
Yes.
Awfully commercial,
don't you think?
The sculpture at Morris
Martin's house, I suppose...
I did several of her,
if that's the question.
Is she alive or not?
You've been
listening to Morris.
You're looking for
a mystery, Mr. Stewart,
and there isn't one.
Claudine's dead. It's as
simple and as sad as that.
(HORN BLOWING)
And then there's Sascha,
I'll show you a photograph.
What about you?
Me?
Unless there's really
a Mr. Spicer, of course.
There is,
but you're at liberty
to choose whomever you like.
Then I choose you.
I'm very flattered.
When are you free?
Tonight could be
reorganized.
For dinner?
Lovely.
I really wanted to
ask you something
rather private.
A specialty?
Well, not exactly.
I want to know
if my wife worked
for you.
Her name's
Claudine, but
I think you might
have known her as
Jennifer Reynolds.
I don't know anyone
by that name.
I'm sorry.
I think you do.
If you'll excuse me
just for a minute.
She did work for
you, I can tell.
I don't know her.
Where?
I don't know who
you're talking about.
I want to
know where.
Let me go.
Where is she?
Let me go!
Where?
Let me go!
Where is she?
(CHOKING)
I know who she is.
Tell me. Where?
See, even poor Barbara
still thinks she's dead.
But she's not.
She's alive!
STEWART: Well, at least
clear something up for me.
There's a
postcard, right?
It's dated two months
after Claudine Martin
is supposed to have died.
I gave you some advice
when you broke into my
home, Stewart.
Yeah, sure.
You seem to have
forgotten it or
ignored it.
Now, look,
if she's alive,
she could be in
serious danger,
do you understand?
Look, is she
alive or not?
Prick!
(BELL DINGS)
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
MAN: Mrs. S.
I've come to do the carpet.
STEWART: Mick, my boy.
Ah!
Bradshaw's looking
for you, you said
you'd be at Annie's.
Yeah, I know.
Listen, do me
a favor, will you?
Telex London,
ask them to check
on the death of
a Claudine Martin.
She was a
British citizen,
supposed to have
died in Paris about
six months ago.
Had a maiden name
of Vargas.
Come on, mate, it's
not my job, ask one
of the girls.
Ah, don't be a turd,
do me a big favor,
I haven't got time.
What do I say
to Bradshaw?
I don't know,
tell Bradshaw
what you like.
Hello, boss!
Where the hell
have you been?
I've been
working my ass off.
Well, there's been
another murder.
It's at this address
and they've jammed
the lid down tight.
Find out what
it's all about.
On my way.
Rita!
Hi, Tom.
(EXHALES)
No press.
Ray!
Media is not invited.
(COUGHS) Not your
territory, is it, Ray?
Everything is my
territory, son.
Bit late to stop
trusting me now,
isn't it?
BIRCH: Let's
take a look.
STEWART: Sure.
POLICEMAN: Okay, we
just need a couple
more details.
Any theories?
A rival operation?
Maybe.
Or just some nutter
who hates women.
Client, you mean?
Speaking of which...
(CAMERAS CLICKING)
Take a gander at that.
Special clientele.
Keep it to yourself.
I don't suppose you'd
recognize any of these?
On my wages?
Don't put your daughter
on the stage, huh?
MAN: Here's some
more, Ray.
BIRCH: Hmm.
Thousand dollar
bracket, this lot.
Lot of bucks to get
your end in, isn't it?
You know her?
Nah.
Classy.
Well, be sure
to let me know
if that fertile mind
of yours comes up with
something, won't you?
By the way,
you remember the night
Eddie Weaks and his
mate got killed?
The word is that they
didn't get a chance
to drop the money.
What about
the paramedics?
A rare breed, them.
Honest as the day
is long, like me.
Get much?
Some.
Beats me.
Yeah, a real mystery.
Yeah, I know how
much it costs, Phil,
just make the
arrangements, okay?
PHIL: Yeah, all right.
And remember, use the
name Neil Bradshaw,
you got that?
Neil Bradshaw, yeah.
Right.
What the hell
is this?
Well, what is it?
Well, it's stolen,
I'm using it.
For what?
I don't know,
balance the books, maybe.
What do you mean,
with Ray Birch?
Well, I wasn't going
to keep it, was I?
Why not?
(PHONE RINGING)
It might be for me.
Hello.
MICK: Tom?
Mick?
London says
there's no
Claudine Martin.
What, no record
of her death?
No, no record
of anything.
No Claudine
Vargas either.
Yeah, right,
thanks, Mick.
That all?
Yeah.
Annie, I've got to split
for a couple of days.
You leaving
your things?
Oh, come on.
Don't be like that.
Look, can I leave
the money here?
There's a lot happening.
I just need a couple
of days to put things
into place.
Of course you do.
(BUZZER SOUNDING)
MARJORIE: Yes?
Mrs. Klein,
Neil Bradshaw here.
Of course,
Mr. Bradshaw.
Thank you.
Hello, Mr. Bradshaw.
Hello.
This is a pleasure.
I'm Marjorie Klein.
How do you do?
Do come in.
Inga, a marvelous choice.
Hello, I'm Inga.
So this is your first
visit here, Neil?
He knows you're alive,
and he's killed
people to find out.
You're Claudine Martin,
aren't you?
I don't know what
you're talking about.
I'm Tom Stewart
and I'm a reporter.
Morris must have
found out about this
place by now, too.
Listen, you've got
to let me get you
out of here, and quick.
Believe me, please.
Come on.
I saw a painting of you
at Seker's place,
so I put two
and two together.
What about the police?
I don't think
they've even got
to first base yet.
(PHONE RINGING)
I hear internal are
really out for your
blood this time.
So what's new?
Tell me, do you know
if the paramedics saw anyone
close to Eddie Weaks
before he died?
DEREK: Only Stewart and
his photographer mate.
Stewart was jollying him
along, trying to keep
him awake.
It's probably
what killed him.
I thought you knew.
No. No, I didn't.
I want you to find
Eddie's girl for me,
Suzie what's-her-name.
Quick!
Right.
(HORN HONKING)
(HORN HONKING)
You all right?
I'll go and find somewhere,
get some help. I'll call
the police.
Look, he was
trying to kill us.
Please, let's go.
(PHONE RINGING)
Ray Birch.
Jimmy here.
Yes, Jimmy.
Eddie's haul was
over 270,000.
Say that again.
You heard, Sarge.
Two hundred
and seventy thousand.
Okay, thanks, Jimmy.
Keep it under your
hat, will you?
Eddie's girlfriend Suzie
just come back from a holiday
in Bali with some young stud.
Seems she came
into some money.
Question is, Derek,
old son, just how much?
(PHONE RINGING)
BIRCH: Tom Stewart, please.
Not here at the moment.
Ray Birch here,
where is he?
Oh, no idea, Sergeant,
some private project.
Just tell him
I want a chat.
Hit a roo, eh?
Yeah, a big one.
Christ, it didn't
give in easy.
Rammed me
into the bank.
Front end's the problem.
No worries.
You and the missus
need a bed for the night?
I think we might.
Fix that, too.
(GASPS)
See you.
You drink whiskey?
Yes, straight.
I need a bit of water.
Tea's on the table, Bert!
Coming, Ma.
Not saying much,
are you?
No.
Mind if I ask you
a stupid question?
That's your job,
isn't it?
No, I'm just
curious, really.
The sort of work
you do, uh...
Why do you do it?
Why do you do it?
Delusions of grandeur,
I think.
Well, I'm not like you,
I like what I do.
Come on,
the money's great.
Buy you a lot
of freedom?
Not always.
So, you want to tell me
what this is all about?
Just interested
in Suzie's welfare.
And?
And how honest
our reporter friend is.
Will you be all
right in there?
I'm used to
taking care
of myself.
How'd you get
involved with a bloke
like Morris, then?
At the time I really
needed someone to
look after me.
And he was it.
And then he got
so jealous and
possessive.
It was suffocating.
Are you doing this
just for the story?
Yeah, I suppose I am.
Bad habit, that.
DEREK: So, that's the stud.
Didn't take her long
to forget about Eddie.
BIRCH: Amazing what
a little money can
buy, isn't it?
We off, then?
No. No.
I'll handle this one
on me own.
Just let them
settle in a bit,
I think.
(MOANING)
(SUZIE EXCLAIMS)
Okay, lover boy, out!
Out!
How much money
did Stewart give you?
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Suzie, trust me.
A few grand.
How many grand, exactly?
(COUGHING)
Aren't you tired?
I should be,
but I'm not.
Thinking up some
more questions?
You know,
all I ever do
is think up questions.
Are you married, Tom?
Hmm?
You married?
Yes, I was.
I'm divorced.
What happened?
I was a prick.
And I didn't respect
what I had.
Most people don't.
Well, they should.
You know something?
It might not
be too late.
(DOOR RATTLING)
All right, young Tom,
what have you done
with it all?
(CAR MEOWING)
I want Stewart.
I want his ass,
wherever it is.
Do you want
to tell me why?
No.
That's clear enough.
So you never
were a tour guide?
No, that was just
a story I used to
get away for a while.
So I could breathe.
And Enderby, he just
happened to be a partner
at the Ravenshead place.
Great mix of careers,
prominent surgeon,
brothel owner.
And what did you
do when that idea
didn't work?
Well, Vivian came
up with a plan that
I should die.
Ironic, isn't it?
She said if I
just disappeared
that Morris wouldn't
stop until he found me.
Look, Bert said there's
a bike in that old shed.
I'll ride over and see
how the car's going.
Maybe we can
get out of here.
I won't be long.
(HAMMER TAPPING)
How's the car going?
Some roo you hit.
Sure was.
Tell me, does
that phone work?
It did yesterday.
Good one.
OPERATOR: News desk.
Neil Bradshaw, please.
(PHONE RINGING)
Hello?
Call for Neil Bradshaw.
Mr. Bradshaw.
Yes?
Hello?
Hello?
So, how much longer
with the car?
Another few hours.
Right, I'll be
back then.
Okay.
(GROANING)
Did they find Morris?
No, Bert would have
said if they had.
Did you phone
the story in?
No, I didn't.
(CAR DOOR OPENING)
Bert?
Tom?
Whatever happened,
it doesn't matter.
Stop.
Long way from home,
aren't you, old son?
(SIRENS WAILING)
(CHATTER ON POLICE RADIO)
Nice old mess
we got into,
didn't we?
Look, the
girl exists,
and she must
have killed Martin.
Because I bloody
well didn't.
And why the fuck
can't I see my
lawyer?
Take it easy.
All in good time.
Ray, we both know
I didn't kill anybody.
Do we?
(BELL DINGS)
Well, what's
the go, Ray?
Still no sign of
your mystery woman.
What fucking mystery?
Oh, come on,
cut the bullshit.
There's only a few
places she could be.
Look, if you pull
your finger out,
it's not hard to
find her, you owe
me that much.
I owe you nothing.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
(METALLIC CLANGING)
(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)
(METALLIC CLANGING)
Well, we found her.
Where?
Barbara Helmsley's place.
Helmsley's?
Mmm-hmm.
Good.
Charge her
and let me go!
Pardon?
Charge her
and let me go, Ray.
What with, Tom?
Ah, come on, Ray,
Morris wasn't even
going to hurt her,
let alone kill her.
Morris was a lunatic.
So?
He's supposed to have
murdered four people.
Perfectly simple, old son,
self defense.
Your story, however,
still doesn't add up.
My story?
How does it go again?
She pushes you
out of the way,
grabs the wheel,
drives Morris
off the road.
Yeah.
Very thin, mate.
Ray, what are
you saying, exactly?
I'm saying, shut up.
And you can
walk away from here.
Start playing
reporter again
and you'll end
up in the shit.
There are still unsolved
murders out there
and you've been
a regular observer.
Could be made
to look pretty bad.
Are you serious?
Do you think anyone's
going to believe that?
Tom, go home.
I've run out of favors.
Annie, you home?
What are you
doing to me?
What?
Ray Birch was in my
home, treated me
like a piece of shit
and took all your
precious money.
Oh, no!
Annie, when
was he here?
Look, I don't need to be...
When was he here?
When was he here?
Yesterday.
Oh, shit.
Annie, I'm sorry.
I really am, but
I've got to go.
Tom!
I'll be back, Annie.
You are so
fucking irresponsible!
I'm sorry.
(SIGHS)
Where's Birch?
He's not around.
You know where he is?
No idea.
Stewart.
I'll let you in
on a little secret.
And what's that?
It's over for him.
Internal want him
for a scapegoat.
You serious?
Ray's had it
and he knows it.
Thanks.
Where is she?
Mr. Stewart.
You're too late,
she's on a flight
to New York today.
She wouldn't be
on her own, would she?
(PHONE RINGING)
MICK: Hello?
Mick, you got to meet
me at Circular Quay
in about 20 minutes.
Now don't fuck around,
you be there, all right?
All right,
I'll be there.
Don't bother,
Mr. Stewart.
CLAUDINE: Hello, Ray.
Excuse me.
Hey, Ray.
Tom.
I suppose you know
what's happening here.
I think I finally
tumbled to it.
So where do we
go from here?
Do me one favor, Ray.
Don't come back.
What are you
going to do?
Nothing.
Nothing?
What should I do?
Chase my ass round
in circles for the
rest of my life?
It's not worth it, Mick,
it's all bullshit.
MICK: So you're gonna
let him get away
with it, are you?
Mate, they deserve
each other.
And that's it, is it?
Maybe.
I told you
I'd be back.
Annie.
I know you've heard
all this before, but
I am sorry.
What happened with Birch?
He just made a
very serious mistake.
One that was
meant for me.
Are you serious about us?
You bet I am.
There's a passbook here,
and it's got
$150,000 in it.
For us.
I knew there was
a reason liked you.
(TYPING)
EDDIE: Hey!
MEDIC: There's one.
(EDDIE COUGHING)
EDDIE: Get me out.
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
EDDIE: Help! Help!
Come on,
let me out.
MEDIC: Take it easy, mate.
You'll be all right.
(SIREN WAILING)
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
(MEN CHATTERING ON RADIO)
(HORNS HONKING)
MAN ON RADIO: Car into
a truck, confirmed
persons trapped.
There is a police vehicle
at the scene.
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
EDDIE: No,
mind the leg!
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
MEDIC: What's that mean?
Get that
light in here!
(SIREN WAILING)
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
Come on,
let me out!
That's good.
Open the clutches.
MEDIC 1: Done.
MEDIC 2: Thanks again.
Keep that
generator going!
Move it!
Move it!
More light.
(CHATTER ON RADIO)
MAN ON RADIO: There was
an armed hold-up in the
city earlier.
EDDIE: Hey!
(EDDIE COUGHING)
Get me out!
(EDDIE SCREAMING)
Not the leg!
MEDIC 1: Well, we got
the door and the clamp.
MEDIC 2:
Steady now.
Don't move him.
MAN: Hey, get on the radio,
we're going to need
a heavy duty...
STEWART: Agos, tell me
what we've got?
AGOSTINO: Yeah. Come
and give us a hand.
Anybody we know?
Yeah, Eddie Weaks,
Phillips, too,
but he's gone.
Well, keep him talking,
Tom. We don't want him
nodding off.
Righto!
MEDIC: Come on,
get it over here!
Nice driving,
Eddie.
Wait till they find
out you haven't got
a license.
It's no joke,
Stewart.
Come on, Eddie,
hang in, you'll
be all right.
Not this time, mate.
MEDIC: Get that light
in here, come on!
Under my seat.
Give it to Suzie.
MEDIC: Don't try to
move, we'll have you
out in a second.
Suzie, right?
Right, Eddie,
she'll get it,
I promise.
You'd better.
MEDIC: Get these
people out of here,
come on.
Hang in there, now.
Got enough shots
of this?
PHOTOGRAPHER:
Yeah, don't worry.
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
MICK: Is he
all right?
STEWART: No, he's not
going to make it.
Tom, been promoted
to car accidents?
No, Ray, demoted
to bank robbery.
Where to?
You know Artie
Wincer's place
down on the beach?
Yeah.
There in a hurry.
I've got to call home,
the kid's sick.
Sure, do it when
we get there.
Thank you for your concern.
(SIREN WAILING)
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
(BUZZING)
SUZIE: Hello?
Hello, Suzie. It's
Tom Stewart here.
I think you
might remember me,
I'm the journalist.
Ah, listen, Suzie,
I have to talk to
you about Eddie.
(BELL BUZZING)
Look, love, they
would have thrown
the book at him.
He wouldn't have
seen daylight again.
Suzie.
(CLEARS THROAT)
Eddie wanted you
to have this.
SUZIE: Traceable?
(LAUGHS)
Knowing Eddie,
I wouldn't think so,
would you?
What, there could be
10, 15 grand there?
Tide you over
for a bit,
wouldn't it?
Well, I want
an exclusive on him.
You bastards are
all the same.
Nah, we liked Eddie.
I don't want to
tip a bucket on him.
I just want to
tell his story.
Look at it
this way, Suzie.
A big page one sendoff.
You right, Mick?
(CLEARS THROAT)
First time I met Eddie...
Hang on, hang on.
The first time
I met Eddie...
MICK: Your methods
are getting worse,
Thomas.
Yeah, I like
to think so.
Comes from your
warm sense of
charity, does it?
Look, mate, I promised
Eddie I'd give her
the money.
I can't believe
your bloody gall.
Don't worry about it.
Don't worry
about anything.
Just forget it.
MORRIS: Stewart had
overcome many obstacles
through his experience,
initiative and guile...
So although
this is a novel,
in a very real sense,
it also is not.
Do you know
what I mean?
Let's have a look
at what Stewart's done.
He's taken a real
criminal case
and he's turned it,
very cleverly,
into an indictment
against a system
that he believes
discriminates
against the underprivileged
in our society.
Check out the title.
A Killing for the Crown.
Now this seems
to suggest
that justice has become
some kind of a blood sport,
as opposed to a real
assessment of the truth.
Although since publication,
some doubts
have been cast
upon the authenticity
of Stewart's information.
Don't you think, Natalie?
Sir?
MORRIS: Natalie?
Please.
Mr. Prentice.
Do you think Stewart's
book is responsible
for the retrial
and acquittal
of James Edward Hodges
or do you think
it was misled?
I don't know.
No. Of course you don't.
But then you don't
know much, do you?
Since your mind rarely
raises itself above
belt level.
Anyone we know?
(STUDENTS LAUGHING)
Well, Prentice,
since you seem intent
on discussing the
artistic merits
of this particular work,
I suggest you take
it directly to the
headmaster.
Oh shit, no!
Oh, shit, yes!
It's not mine.
Quit hassling me.
I believe we were
discussing Stewart's
use of non-fiction
as a weapon
against social injustice.
(BELL RINGING)
(STUDENTS CHATTERING)
HEADMASTER: Morris,
this business with
young Prentice...
I assure you, it
won't happen again.
Well, that's very
gratifying to hear,
but I don't think I can
let the matter rest there,
for all concerned.
You know how
deeply sorry
we all feel
about Claudine.
Look, Morris, the
holidays will give
you a chance to relax.
However, today's actions
are totally unacceptable,
and if it
happens again...
Thanks for your
support, Harry.
(TRAIN HORN BLOWING)
(PLANE ENGINE HUMMING)
What's happening?
Bloody hopeless.
Tom Stewart isn't
back there by any
chance, is he?
Yeah, I think so.
Get him.
(MEN CHATTERING)
Stewart.
Yeah?
Detective Sergeant
Birch wants a chat.
Aren't I lucky.
Come on, Mick!
Not you.
Bit of strife, Ray?
Tried everything,
want to talk to him?
Not especially.
Your scoop.
Yeah, my ass, too.
Derek, get everyone
out of sight.
He's got a shotgun,
so stop where I
tell you.
POLICEMAN: Right,
everyone back!
Oh, thanks, Ray.
You'll be all right.
I want everyone
out of here.
Right out.
Behind the car,
come on!
Everyone out of
here. Come on.
That's far enough, Tom.
POLICEMAN: Behind
the car, come on.
BIRCH: Leslie.
I know you don't
want to talk to us.
But the gentleman standing
out there is a reporter
by the name
of Tom Stewart.
You've probably
heard of him.
He wants to hear
your side of the story.
What do you say?
Les.
I don't want to
pry into your
personal affairs.
Whatever reason
you've got for
doing this,
I'm sure is
a good one
in your eyes.
Look.
All I want to do
is talk to you
and get your
side of this.
Maybe take
a photograph.
That seem fair?
What about the coppers?
They just want to
wrap this up, go home
and have a beer.
They don't want blood.
They're just doing their job.
Well, I'll think about it.
I'll think about it.
(TRAIN HORN BLOWING)
(RIFLE FIRES)
POLICEMAN: Keep
down, everyone.
(FIRING GUN)
Derek will bring
your mate up. Coming?
Detective Arno
will look after you.
Just wait here
a minute, please.
...shot first.
Three counts of rape,
two attempted murders,
he wouldn't have
let that girl go.
Yeah, stops
overcrowding
the jails, Ray.
Get real, Tom.
Don't do me
any more fucking
favors, all right?
There were two shots.
Leslie fired
first at you
and I saved your life.
You do understand
how the story will
read, don't you?
By the way, great
exclusive on Eddie
Weaks' girl.
I don't know
how you do it.
I really don't.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
Ladies and gentlemen.
Austen Tayshus.
(PEOPLE CHEERING)
Thank you so
much. Thank you.
Wonderful to be here,
really wonderful.
The date is December 24th
in the year zero.
The place, Palestine.
(AUSTEN WHISTLING
TWILIGHT ZONE THEME)
(PEOPLE LAUGHING)
The scene, a dusty road,
the road from Nazareth.
How the fuck did I know
it was named after a band
that had a number one
hit, Love Hurts?
Okay, we look up
at the sky and
what do we see?
A big bright star
shining down on the
tiny village of Bethlehem.
Astrological science informs
us today, of course,
that this was undoubtedly
the earliest recorded
manifestation
of Halley's comet.
The real one.
Not the hazy fucking
fuzz-ball we got this
time around.
So Joseph, right,
the poor but
humble carpenter,
comes schlepping down
the road leading a donkey.
And on the donkey
sits his wife Mary
and three children,
Ezekiel, Eli...
(PEOPLE LAUGHING)
Sorry.
Claudine!
Mary is heavy with child
and the child is not his.
Claudine!
(CAR HORN HONKS)
MICK: My God,
don't you ever
give up?
A favor I've
got to get out.
Seems I didn't see
what I actually saw.
And the moral is?
Keep your contacts...
(TYPING)
...and just write the story.
OPERATOR: The number
you have called is
not connected.
Please check the number
before calling again.
I repeat, please check
the number before...
(PHONE RINGING)
Vivian Enderby.
MORRIS: Viv?
Morris?
Is Claude there, Viv?
Oh, Morris.
Tell her I'm
getting lonely.
No, no, Morris,
not tonight, please.
Back at four,
she said in
the note.
You drink too much.
If she's not with you,
I'll have to start calling
the hospitals.
It's Morris on his
hospital rounds again.
I'll go over.
He should have pulled
himself together by now.
Would you if
you lost me?
It really is
Morris, is it?
(SIRENS WAILING)
DEREK: Wait!
BIRCH: Problem?
The word is Pellegrini's
not impressed with
your report
on the shooting
at the warehouse.
For Christ's sake,
I get fucking results,
don't I?
Yeah, it's just that
I've got to front up
in the morning
and answer
some questions.
Just tell him
the truth, Derek.
Leslie was about
to shoot.
He was an evil
little bugger
who would have
killed the girl
and the bloke anyway.
I mean, what do those
pricks upstairs know?
They've forgotten
what it's like out here.
Just leave the high-minded
stuff to the likes
of Stewart, okay?
Have a look
at those proofs.
(SIGHS)
And I'll have a Scotch
on your royalties check.
Yeah.
$11.60.
They just sold
my 173rd copy.
Ah! Don't get maudlin,
mate. The book was good.
The book was bullshit.
He was guilty and every
other bastard knew it.
You were set up.
I was set up.
Not to mention
the publishers,
your friends
who backed you,
me, the typist,
the barman.
His wife.
His children.
(CHUCKLES)
Drinks for everybody.
Except him.
VIVIAN: You said
you'd wipe these.
MORRIS: She's
so beautiful,
isn't she?
You promised.
Why should I?
Because it's the past,
and Stephen's paranoid
about his patients
finding out.
To say nothing of
the medical tribunal.
Leave it.
Then destroy it
as you promised.
I never did understand
your obsession with
recording everything.
Where is she, Viv?
You're wearing us
all out, Morris.
I saw her again.
When?
Tonight.
Morris,
Claudine is dead.
Yes, I know,
you've told me.
Take your hands away.
No.
Please.
I think you've been
keeping something
from me.
We were so smart
and smug and
sophisticated.
We exploited her.
(MOANS)
You're not supposed
to do it that hard.
You taught me.
I thought you liked it.
You look lovely.
(SIGHS)
I can only stay
a little while.
Coming in?
No, I've got
to get home.
Don't fuck around,
Derek, I'm offering
you a drink.
Look, I'm pushed
for time, maybe
tomorrow.
You know, you don't
have to work with me.
Come off it, Ray.
I really have
to get home.
Yeah.
(CAR DOOR OPENING)
Fucking weather.
(THUNDER CRASHING)
VIVIAN: What do you want?
Hmm?
(SIGHS)
VIVIAN: You've got
too many things
on your mind, Morris.
You got to start
enjoying yourself.
You're not exactly
the first person
it's ever happened to.
Morris, are you dead?
It really isn't
a big deal.
Morris!
You good at names?
That's my book.
Both of them?
Let's see.
Seker. Pfiefer.
What is this?
I did see her,
you know, Viv, tonight.
She got away,
but she left
her handbag.
She's Jennifer
Reynolds now.
Did you know that?
Morris!
Plenty of books like
that around, Morris.
Yes, I'm sure.
Names, addresses,
men mostly.
What's that?
In you.
Morris, don't
be ridiculous.
You lied.
Don't...
(GASPING)
(WOMAN EXCLAIMS)
Bloody idiot, Ray!
Ray!
What do you
think of that, eh?
(SCREAMING)
You won't let another
man in here, will you?
Will you? Will you?
You little bitch!
(SOBBING)
(WOMAN SCREAMING)
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
(SIGHING)
BIRCH: Good day.
Ray.
Any problem?
Nah, nah,
no problem,
just dropped in
for a friendly chat.
On your own?
And what do you
want to chat about?
I thought you might
need some advice
from someone
who knows the traps.
That'd be you, Ray!
(CLEARS THROAT)
Kill for a drink.
(CHUCKLES)
I believe you would.
You know, you're
pretty smart for
a young fellow.
Oh, I'm glad
you think so.
But you lack
one thing.
Oh, yeah,
what's that?
Edge.
Edge?
Yeah. Take that
book of yours.
How did you feel
when my old mate Hodges
told you that he
really had murdered
his sister-in-law?
It wasn't hard to
persuade him to tell
you, you know.
That was a pretty
good set-up, Ray,
I never did
thank you for it.
Well, it's
not too late.
Oh, I'll write
the story, all right.
I wouldn't worry, Ray,
I'm not stupid.
Nah. I know
you're not stupid.
But you are a mug.
Tell me why?
You could have
made a fortune
with your book.
Not here, it's
too late, granted.
But overseas,
they lap that
shit up.
Sells the conscience.
And that's where
you lack edge.
You don't
follow through.
You see, Ray, money's
not that important to me.
Don't kid yourself.
Look, Tom, you've still
got a bright future,
if you remember
who your mates are.
How could I forget?
Got any good tapes?
(PHONE RINGING)
(PHONE RINGING CONTINUES)
(DOOR OPENING)
(PHONE RINGING)
(DOORBELL RINGING)
Where is she?
Good morning,
long time no see.
Was Vivian here
last night?
Oh, I don't know.
Was she here
or wasn't she?
I told you,
I haven't
got a clue.
I was pissed
as a fart.
Did you phone
her last night?
I was just
reminiscing,
actually.
You said you'd
destroyed all those.
Hmm. I lied.
I want any with
Vivian or myself
in them destroyed.
Yeah, I'm not surprised.
Hardly the sort of thing
for a leading surgeon
to be doing, is it?
Dear Christ.
How did Claudine
ever put up with you?
Amazing how one's
friends change over
the years, isn't it?
Rather tragic, actually.
And quite repellant.
You're a failure
in every respect,
aren't you, Morris?
We're all fed up to the
eye teeth with you and
your absurd fantasies.
Vivian and
myself especially.
Oh, please, do try
and forgive me.
Ray.
What have you got?
It seems that Eddie and
Phillips got away with
quite a bit the other night.
Well, how much?
The trouble is nobody
appears to have been
keeping records,
so they can't
tell us just yet.
Bloody marvelous.
Not even
a rough idea?
Only that it's a lot.
What the fuck's
a lot, Derek?
Twenty thousand,
a hundred thousand,
a million?
A lot! Just a lot.
A lot.
Thanks, Bill.
Tom Stewart here,
I believe there's
a call for me?
See you, Tom.
Yes, Neil.
I'll be right there.
The body of a naked woman
in the boot of a submerged
car over at Kernel.
Come on.
It'll never
get you to New York.
It will if I can prove
she did it herself.
(CHATTER ON POLICE RADIO)
Who is she?
Bloke over there's
wife, Enderby.
Well, you got
what you want?
No, not quite yet.
Well, all right,
I'll go and get this
developed at the lab.
The Herald bloke's
giving me a lift.
Righto, Mick,
see you there.
No problem.
STEWART: Come on, Ray.
Don't give me that
classified information
rubbish.
Give me a lead.
BIRCH: Enderby says this
guy, Morris Martin
could've been the last one
to see her alive. That's it.
That's enough.
I'll find him.
(DOORBELL RINGING)
(CAT MEOWING)
Shit!
(SIGHS)
Hello there.
Did you want something?
Yeah, I wanted
to see Mr. Martin.
He's not there.
He left after the
policeman came.
Did Mr. Martin say
when he'd be back?
He came over this morning
and talked to Mummy.
He'll be coming
back tomorrow
morning, he said.
What I'm saying,
Ray, is
things don't work
the way they used
to anymore.
And what way
was that, sir?
The story we've
got, Birch,
is that the guy went down
after the first shot,
not the second.
You must know
what it's like
out there, sir.
Maybe you don't.
There were a lot of
things happening
that day.
Wouldn't be difficult
for things to get distorted
in people's minds.
Tell me, exactly
who was it, Mr...
Stansfield.
Mr. Stansfield,
that saw it this way?
That'll be all
for now, Birch.
Very good, sir.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
Hello. My name
is Morris Martin,
I am looking
for Mr. Seker.
I'm afraid Mr. Seker
is not available,
Mr. Martin.
May I help you?
I was hoping to
locate my wife.
I have reason to
believe she's been
living in the area.
I'm sorry,
I haven't
seen her.
It's a small community,
I would have known.
I see. Thank you.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
Mr. Seker?
What do you want?
You can help me.
I think not,
Mr. Martin.
And you're looking
for your wife?
I've seen
the pictures.
That's trespassing.
Tell me about them,
about how you came
to know her.
I advise you
to get out.
(SCREAMING)
(DOORBELL BUZZING)
(DOG BARKING)
Are you ill?
STEWART: Never felt
better in my life.
Your timing's bad.
So, how have
you been?
Fine. I'm due at
the hospital in
20 minutes.
Annie, can I ask you
a really big favor?
Ah, this'll be good.
Would it be all
right if I stayed
here for tonight?
I won't be
here till 5:00.
That's all right,
I won't wait up.
Ah, you won't have to
because you'll be in
the spare room.
Great. I'll just
put this in there.
Can't thank
you enough.
All right.
Been strangely quiet
about Eddie Weaks'
little haul.
I thought you might
be able to help.
I'd like to, Sarge,
but nobody's heard
a thing.
Strike you as odd?
Very.
Meaning?
Meaning it must
have been outsiders
involved.
Or they dumped it
before the crash.
Very good, Jimmy.
They rob a bank,
know they're gonna have
a smash, so they bury
the money.
You're gonna have to
do better than that,
officer.
(DOOR OPENING)
Good morning.
What are you
doing in here?
Reading a book.
Tom, we're divorced.
Ah! That was ages ago.
Was it?
So, how's work?
Shithouse.
You know, at the risk
of repeating myself,
this really is the
asshole of the world.
Yeah, I think
I've heard that
somewhere before.
So, it's still
New York then?
Fuck New York.
Then, what
do you want?
No. No.
Hmm.
No, no, no, no.
Don't.
No, no, no.
No, come here, please.
Listen to me. Sit.
(SIGHS)
We should
have had kids.
And have them
end up like you?
You've got a point.
God, I liked you once.
I even liked
me, too, once.
(DOORBELL RINGING)
Tom Stewart.
(CHUCKLES)
MAN ON TV:
Detective Ray Birch,
who in turn was
promoted through
these investigations
was able to establish...
You made the whole
thing yourself?
Yes.
It's a sort of
hobby of mine.
I really admired
your book very much.
That's why I used it
with the kids.
I don't suppose
you'd mind
uh, maybe, writing
something on it
for me?
By all means.
Thanks.
What can I say?
(CLEARS THROAT)
I take it all that stuff
about fabricated evidence
was just a smear tactic.
No. Not entirely,
Morris. Um...
The truth of the matter
is that he actually did
do it.
He told me so
after the second trial.
You had no idea?
There was a
sneaking suspicion,
but it didn't stop
me writing it.
Thanks.
Another drink?
Never say no.
You see, I'm working
on the Enderby murder
and if you could help me
with a couple of questions,
it might give me
a clearer line
on the story.
Sure.
Well, first off,
I understand that
Dr. Enderby said
you rang his wife
the night she was killed.
Yes, I know,
the police told me.
In fact, I hadn't seen
or spoken to Viv for,
I don't know,
about a month.
It's odd, isn't it,
that he'd say
you were the last
person she spoke to?
Well, we've been friends
for a long time and...
Well, the truth is Vivian
is rather fond of other men,
if you know
what I mean.
I don't know if Stephen
would put quite such
a fine point on it.
So, she used a mutual
friend as an alibi?
That sort of thing, yeah.
I see.
Do you mind if I ask
a personal question, Morris?
No.
I understand your
own wife died six
months ago.
Yes.
She died in Paris.
A car accident.
That's her there.
A very beautiful lady.
There was never anyone
more beautiful.
I'm sorry.
MAN ON TV:
The well-known artist
Laslo Seker
and his housekeeper
Madeleine Kovitch.
Police are baffled by
the ferocity of the attack.
And now, the weather...
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
Carrot juice?
Scotch.
Of course.
I'll join you.
Good to see you.
You like?
It's different.
To Vivian.
It was bound
to happen.
Do you want to
talk about it?
Barb, did Claude go back
to what she used to do?
What?
Look, I tried
all the travel agencies,
every single one of them.
Nobody's ever heard of her.
It just doesn't make sense.
Could she still be
alive? Do you think
that's possible?
No, darling. I don't
see how she could be.
But you'd tell me,
wouldn't you,
if you even
suspected anything?
All I know is that
a year before she died,
she was working for
some woman called Spicer.
So she only
pretended to go overseas.
Morris, it's passed.
She loved you and only you.
Leave it at that.
I need to talk to
this Spicer woman.
Why?
Barbara, please.
It won't do
you any good.
Spicer. Eve.
What if I told
you I'd seen her?
Seen Claudine.
What would you say?
I only wish I could
believe you had.
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
All right,
ladies and
gentlemen,
turning to crime
as we all should have
done ages ago.
Ken, I want you to
work up something
on the Seker murders.
Mist-shrouded house
in the mountains,
that kind of crap.
(CLEARING THROAT)
Neil, could I grab that one?
Ken won't mind,
will you, Ken?
All right, Tom,
as long as you
don't turn it into
a book again.
(ALL LAUGHING)
Now, Carol, I've got
something here for
you as well.
(BUZZING)
You all right?
I'll see you back
in the car, Mick.
Mick, you got
your Polaroid
with you?
Yeah.
Give it to
me, will you?
Be careful with it.
You bet.
Hey, out.
This area is
off limits.
What's wrong?
You wouldn't believe it
if I told you.
Back to the
paper then?
Yeah, I'll go
on from there.
(PHONE RINGING)
EVE ON ANSWERING MACHINE:
This is Eve Spicer speaking.
I'm unable to come
to the phone at the moment,
but if you'd care
to leave your name
and number...
(DOORBELL RINGING)
(DOOR CLOSING)
(CAT MEOWING)
STEWART: No, I'm sure
it's the same girl.
How old?
I can't tell ages,
late twenties, I guess.
Is she pretty?
Yes, she is. Very.
I thought you said
she was dead?
EVE: If the matter is very
urgent, you may like to try
360-1448. Thank...
(PHONE RINGING)
WOMAN: Yes,
may I help you?
Eve Spicer, please.
Out of town this
evening, she'll be
back in the morning.
Any message?
Don't worry,
I'll call back.
STEPHEN: She was
a delightful person,
warm, intelligent
and beautiful.
A rare creature.
STEWART: What sort
of a job did she
have, Doctor?
She was an
overseas tour guide.
Oh, yeah, who with?
I've no idea.
She wasn't ever
a model, was she?
An artist's model?
Not to my knowledge.
Look, I'm sorry, Stewart,
but I promised I'd
look in on a patient.
Sure.
Thanks for the drink.
(CAR DOOR CLOSING)
(CAR ENGINE STARTING)
(DOOR OPENING)
(DOOR CLOSING)
Satisfying your insatiable
curiosity, Stewart?
In a way.
Actually, I was looking
for the tapes you took
from Morris Martin's house.
I suppose it's
a bit embarrassing
to leave that sort of
stuff lying around.
I'll thank you not
to pry into my
personal affairs.
Well, given the
circumstances,
there might be a bit of
public interest here.
By dragging my name
and that of my late wife
through the mud, is that
what you're implying?
No, I'm not
implying that.
I just want to find
out what's going on.
You have no private
life, then, I take it?
No personal secrets,
no habits you prefer
not disclosed
in lurid detail on
the front page of
your newspaper?
Weren't we discussing
your situation?
No, no,
we're discussing yours.
If you don't leave me
alone, you'll find
yourself in prison.
That a threat, Doc?
Yes.
I thought so.
Oh, Mick,
can you make out
a post-mark on this?
The dark glasses help?
MICK: Twenty-eighth
of December?
Not October, is it?
I don't think so, why?
Hmm.
It doesn't matter.
Drink?
Can't. Gotta go.
Well, where you
gonna be?
Out.
Then either back here
or round at Annie's.
You two friends again?
Never enemies, mate,
just incompatible.
Thirsty?
They were marvelous
times, Mr. Stewart.
Unconventional times.
We were all
very close.
Was Morris ever in love
with Vivian Enderby?
In love?
If you mean by that,
did Morris ever sleep
with Vivian,
the answer is yes.
But then, so did
we all at various times.
You mean,
Stephen and Morris...
And Vivian and
myself, yes.
Didn't Stephen explain?
No, he didn't.
Well, he must
be a little
shy these days.
Wasn't Morris married
to a Claudine...
Vargas.
Yes.
No, he was
married to me.
I don't quite understand.
Claudine was an
English girl we
met in Spain,
San Sebastian, actually.
You see, we even
used to take our
holidays together.
She and Morris
fell in love.
You realize
what she was?
No.
She was a whore,
Mr. Stewart.
A very beautiful
and highly paid whore.
She was utterly
charming and captivating
and in a very real
sense, we were all
in love with her.
(BELL BUZZING)
EVE: Yes?
Mrs. Spicer,
my name is Martin,
you were
recommended to me.
It's the top floor,
Mr. Martin.
(BELL BUZZING)
(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)
Mr. Martin?
Won't you
come through.
Tell me.
Do you think it's possible
that Claudine Vargas
is still alive?
Well, what an
extraordinary question.
Is it?
I understood it
was Vivian you
wanted to discuss.
I think it's
all connected.
Do you really?
Is that Claudine?
Yes.
Awfully commercial,
don't you think?
The sculpture at Morris
Martin's house, I suppose...
I did several of her,
if that's the question.
Is she alive or not?
You've been
listening to Morris.
You're looking for
a mystery, Mr. Stewart,
and there isn't one.
Claudine's dead. It's as
simple and as sad as that.
(HORN BLOWING)
And then there's Sascha,
I'll show you a photograph.
What about you?
Me?
Unless there's really
a Mr. Spicer, of course.
There is,
but you're at liberty
to choose whomever you like.
Then I choose you.
I'm very flattered.
When are you free?
Tonight could be
reorganized.
For dinner?
Lovely.
I really wanted to
ask you something
rather private.
A specialty?
Well, not exactly.
I want to know
if my wife worked
for you.
Her name's
Claudine, but
I think you might
have known her as
Jennifer Reynolds.
I don't know anyone
by that name.
I'm sorry.
I think you do.
If you'll excuse me
just for a minute.
She did work for
you, I can tell.
I don't know her.
Where?
I don't know who
you're talking about.
I want to
know where.
Let me go.
Where is she?
Let me go!
Where?
Let me go!
Where is she?
(CHOKING)
I know who she is.
Tell me. Where?
See, even poor Barbara
still thinks she's dead.
But she's not.
She's alive!
STEWART: Well, at least
clear something up for me.
There's a
postcard, right?
It's dated two months
after Claudine Martin
is supposed to have died.
I gave you some advice
when you broke into my
home, Stewart.
Yeah, sure.
You seem to have
forgotten it or
ignored it.
Now, look,
if she's alive,
she could be in
serious danger,
do you understand?
Look, is she
alive or not?
Prick!
(BELL DINGS)
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
MAN: Mrs. S.
I've come to do the carpet.
STEWART: Mick, my boy.
Ah!
Bradshaw's looking
for you, you said
you'd be at Annie's.
Yeah, I know.
Listen, do me
a favor, will you?
Telex London,
ask them to check
on the death of
a Claudine Martin.
She was a
British citizen,
supposed to have
died in Paris about
six months ago.
Had a maiden name
of Vargas.
Come on, mate, it's
not my job, ask one
of the girls.
Ah, don't be a turd,
do me a big favor,
I haven't got time.
What do I say
to Bradshaw?
I don't know,
tell Bradshaw
what you like.
Hello, boss!
Where the hell
have you been?
I've been
working my ass off.
Well, there's been
another murder.
It's at this address
and they've jammed
the lid down tight.
Find out what
it's all about.
On my way.
Rita!
Hi, Tom.
(EXHALES)
No press.
Ray!
Media is not invited.
(COUGHS) Not your
territory, is it, Ray?
Everything is my
territory, son.
Bit late to stop
trusting me now,
isn't it?
BIRCH: Let's
take a look.
STEWART: Sure.
POLICEMAN: Okay, we
just need a couple
more details.
Any theories?
A rival operation?
Maybe.
Or just some nutter
who hates women.
Client, you mean?
Speaking of which...
(CAMERAS CLICKING)
Take a gander at that.
Special clientele.
Keep it to yourself.
I don't suppose you'd
recognize any of these?
On my wages?
Don't put your daughter
on the stage, huh?
MAN: Here's some
more, Ray.
BIRCH: Hmm.
Thousand dollar
bracket, this lot.
Lot of bucks to get
your end in, isn't it?
You know her?
Nah.
Classy.
Well, be sure
to let me know
if that fertile mind
of yours comes up with
something, won't you?
By the way,
you remember the night
Eddie Weaks and his
mate got killed?
The word is that they
didn't get a chance
to drop the money.
What about
the paramedics?
A rare breed, them.
Honest as the day
is long, like me.
Get much?
Some.
Beats me.
Yeah, a real mystery.
Yeah, I know how
much it costs, Phil,
just make the
arrangements, okay?
PHIL: Yeah, all right.
And remember, use the
name Neil Bradshaw,
you got that?
Neil Bradshaw, yeah.
Right.
What the hell
is this?
Well, what is it?
Well, it's stolen,
I'm using it.
For what?
I don't know,
balance the books, maybe.
What do you mean,
with Ray Birch?
Well, I wasn't going
to keep it, was I?
Why not?
(PHONE RINGING)
It might be for me.
Hello.
MICK: Tom?
Mick?
London says
there's no
Claudine Martin.
What, no record
of her death?
No, no record
of anything.
No Claudine
Vargas either.
Yeah, right,
thanks, Mick.
That all?
Yeah.
Annie, I've got to split
for a couple of days.
You leaving
your things?
Oh, come on.
Don't be like that.
Look, can I leave
the money here?
There's a lot happening.
I just need a couple
of days to put things
into place.
Of course you do.
(BUZZER SOUNDING)
MARJORIE: Yes?
Mrs. Klein,
Neil Bradshaw here.
Of course,
Mr. Bradshaw.
Thank you.
Hello, Mr. Bradshaw.
Hello.
This is a pleasure.
I'm Marjorie Klein.
How do you do?
Do come in.
Inga, a marvelous choice.
Hello, I'm Inga.
So this is your first
visit here, Neil?
He knows you're alive,
and he's killed
people to find out.
You're Claudine Martin,
aren't you?
I don't know what
you're talking about.
I'm Tom Stewart
and I'm a reporter.
Morris must have
found out about this
place by now, too.
Listen, you've got
to let me get you
out of here, and quick.
Believe me, please.
Come on.
I saw a painting of you
at Seker's place,
so I put two
and two together.
What about the police?
I don't think
they've even got
to first base yet.
(PHONE RINGING)
I hear internal are
really out for your
blood this time.
So what's new?
Tell me, do you know
if the paramedics saw anyone
close to Eddie Weaks
before he died?
DEREK: Only Stewart and
his photographer mate.
Stewart was jollying him
along, trying to keep
him awake.
It's probably
what killed him.
I thought you knew.
No. No, I didn't.
I want you to find
Eddie's girl for me,
Suzie what's-her-name.
Quick!
Right.
(HORN HONKING)
(HORN HONKING)
You all right?
I'll go and find somewhere,
get some help. I'll call
the police.
Look, he was
trying to kill us.
Please, let's go.
(PHONE RINGING)
Ray Birch.
Jimmy here.
Yes, Jimmy.
Eddie's haul was
over 270,000.
Say that again.
You heard, Sarge.
Two hundred
and seventy thousand.
Okay, thanks, Jimmy.
Keep it under your
hat, will you?
Eddie's girlfriend Suzie
just come back from a holiday
in Bali with some young stud.
Seems she came
into some money.
Question is, Derek,
old son, just how much?
(PHONE RINGING)
BIRCH: Tom Stewart, please.
Not here at the moment.
Ray Birch here,
where is he?
Oh, no idea, Sergeant,
some private project.
Just tell him
I want a chat.
Hit a roo, eh?
Yeah, a big one.
Christ, it didn't
give in easy.
Rammed me
into the bank.
Front end's the problem.
No worries.
You and the missus
need a bed for the night?
I think we might.
Fix that, too.
(GASPS)
See you.
You drink whiskey?
Yes, straight.
I need a bit of water.
Tea's on the table, Bert!
Coming, Ma.
Not saying much,
are you?
No.
Mind if I ask you
a stupid question?
That's your job,
isn't it?
No, I'm just
curious, really.
The sort of work
you do, uh...
Why do you do it?
Why do you do it?
Delusions of grandeur,
I think.
Well, I'm not like you,
I like what I do.
Come on,
the money's great.
Buy you a lot
of freedom?
Not always.
So, you want to tell me
what this is all about?
Just interested
in Suzie's welfare.
And?
And how honest
our reporter friend is.
Will you be all
right in there?
I'm used to
taking care
of myself.
How'd you get
involved with a bloke
like Morris, then?
At the time I really
needed someone to
look after me.
And he was it.
And then he got
so jealous and
possessive.
It was suffocating.
Are you doing this
just for the story?
Yeah, I suppose I am.
Bad habit, that.
DEREK: So, that's the stud.
Didn't take her long
to forget about Eddie.
BIRCH: Amazing what
a little money can
buy, isn't it?
We off, then?
No. No.
I'll handle this one
on me own.
Just let them
settle in a bit,
I think.
(MOANING)
(SUZIE EXCLAIMS)
Okay, lover boy, out!
Out!
How much money
did Stewart give you?
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Suzie, trust me.
A few grand.
How many grand, exactly?
(COUGHING)
Aren't you tired?
I should be,
but I'm not.
Thinking up some
more questions?
You know,
all I ever do
is think up questions.
Are you married, Tom?
Hmm?
You married?
Yes, I was.
I'm divorced.
What happened?
I was a prick.
And I didn't respect
what I had.
Most people don't.
Well, they should.
You know something?
It might not
be too late.
(DOOR RATTLING)
All right, young Tom,
what have you done
with it all?
(CAR MEOWING)
I want Stewart.
I want his ass,
wherever it is.
Do you want
to tell me why?
No.
That's clear enough.
So you never
were a tour guide?
No, that was just
a story I used to
get away for a while.
So I could breathe.
And Enderby, he just
happened to be a partner
at the Ravenshead place.
Great mix of careers,
prominent surgeon,
brothel owner.
And what did you
do when that idea
didn't work?
Well, Vivian came
up with a plan that
I should die.
Ironic, isn't it?
She said if I
just disappeared
that Morris wouldn't
stop until he found me.
Look, Bert said there's
a bike in that old shed.
I'll ride over and see
how the car's going.
Maybe we can
get out of here.
I won't be long.
(HAMMER TAPPING)
How's the car going?
Some roo you hit.
Sure was.
Tell me, does
that phone work?
It did yesterday.
Good one.
OPERATOR: News desk.
Neil Bradshaw, please.
(PHONE RINGING)
Hello?
Call for Neil Bradshaw.
Mr. Bradshaw.
Yes?
Hello?
Hello?
So, how much longer
with the car?
Another few hours.
Right, I'll be
back then.
Okay.
(GROANING)
Did they find Morris?
No, Bert would have
said if they had.
Did you phone
the story in?
No, I didn't.
(CAR DOOR OPENING)
Bert?
Tom?
Whatever happened,
it doesn't matter.
Stop.
Long way from home,
aren't you, old son?
(SIRENS WAILING)
(CHATTER ON POLICE RADIO)
Nice old mess
we got into,
didn't we?
Look, the
girl exists,
and she must
have killed Martin.
Because I bloody
well didn't.
And why the fuck
can't I see my
lawyer?
Take it easy.
All in good time.
Ray, we both know
I didn't kill anybody.
Do we?
(BELL DINGS)
Well, what's
the go, Ray?
Still no sign of
your mystery woman.
What fucking mystery?
Oh, come on,
cut the bullshit.
There's only a few
places she could be.
Look, if you pull
your finger out,
it's not hard to
find her, you owe
me that much.
I owe you nothing.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
(METALLIC CLANGING)
(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)
(METALLIC CLANGING)
Well, we found her.
Where?
Barbara Helmsley's place.
Helmsley's?
Mmm-hmm.
Good.
Charge her
and let me go!
Pardon?
Charge her
and let me go, Ray.
What with, Tom?
Ah, come on, Ray,
Morris wasn't even
going to hurt her,
let alone kill her.
Morris was a lunatic.
So?
He's supposed to have
murdered four people.
Perfectly simple, old son,
self defense.
Your story, however,
still doesn't add up.
My story?
How does it go again?
She pushes you
out of the way,
grabs the wheel,
drives Morris
off the road.
Yeah.
Very thin, mate.
Ray, what are
you saying, exactly?
I'm saying, shut up.
And you can
walk away from here.
Start playing
reporter again
and you'll end
up in the shit.
There are still unsolved
murders out there
and you've been
a regular observer.
Could be made
to look pretty bad.
Are you serious?
Do you think anyone's
going to believe that?
Tom, go home.
I've run out of favors.
Annie, you home?
What are you
doing to me?
What?
Ray Birch was in my
home, treated me
like a piece of shit
and took all your
precious money.
Oh, no!
Annie, when
was he here?
Look, I don't need to be...
When was he here?
When was he here?
Yesterday.
Oh, shit.
Annie, I'm sorry.
I really am, but
I've got to go.
Tom!
I'll be back, Annie.
You are so
fucking irresponsible!
I'm sorry.
(SIGHS)
Where's Birch?
He's not around.
You know where he is?
No idea.
Stewart.
I'll let you in
on a little secret.
And what's that?
It's over for him.
Internal want him
for a scapegoat.
You serious?
Ray's had it
and he knows it.
Thanks.
Where is she?
Mr. Stewart.
You're too late,
she's on a flight
to New York today.
She wouldn't be
on her own, would she?
(PHONE RINGING)
MICK: Hello?
Mick, you got to meet
me at Circular Quay
in about 20 minutes.
Now don't fuck around,
you be there, all right?
All right,
I'll be there.
Don't bother,
Mr. Stewart.
CLAUDINE: Hello, Ray.
Excuse me.
Hey, Ray.
Tom.
I suppose you know
what's happening here.
I think I finally
tumbled to it.
So where do we
go from here?
Do me one favor, Ray.
Don't come back.
What are you
going to do?
Nothing.
Nothing?
What should I do?
Chase my ass round
in circles for the
rest of my life?
It's not worth it, Mick,
it's all bullshit.
MICK: So you're gonna
let him get away
with it, are you?
Mate, they deserve
each other.
And that's it, is it?
Maybe.
I told you
I'd be back.
Annie.
I know you've heard
all this before, but
I am sorry.
What happened with Birch?
He just made a
very serious mistake.
One that was
meant for me.
Are you serious about us?
You bet I am.
There's a passbook here,
and it's got
$150,000 in it.
For us.
I knew there was
a reason liked you.
(TYPING)