The Last Appointment (1954) - full transcript

(projector whirring)
(haunting music)

(stately music)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(vigorous music)

- (plodding music)
- And unless our client

receives a satisfactory
reply within 10 days,

proceedings will be commenced,
(telephone ringing)

to recover the...
(typewriter clacking)

Yes, Mr. Hartnell?

I'll tell her.

Miss Robens, will you go in
to Mr. Hartnell right away?



[Robens] Yes, Mr. Barratt.

(comical music)

Look, how much longer do I have to wait?

I've waited two hours already!

I'm sorry, Mr. um, Billings,

but I did explain when you arrived,

that one cannot expect
to walk un-announced,

into a firm of solicitors and see

the senior partner at once!

- You must appreciate the diff...
- Yes, yes, I know!

I only want 10 minutes, five would do!

Miss Robens will call
you when Mr. Hartnell

can spare a few minutes.

(door tapping)



Well these are the
papers of the trust brief

that Mr. Staples is
working on Mr. Barratt.

Ah yes, I'll go through them right away.

Are you Mr. Billings?

That's right, and you
I hope are Miss Robens.

Mr. Hartnell can spare you a few moments

before his next appointment.

Oh, thanks.

Oh Miss Robens you
might give Barratt a hand

with that trust brief will you?

- Sit down Mr. Billings.
- Yes Mr. Hartnell.

(sighs) I'm sorry you were kept waiting.

It's a little unusual in this practise

for people to, drop in.

Yes, so you're here, talk to me.

You won't think me discourteous
if I ask you to be brief?

Not at all.

It's um, it's a rather
delicate matter Mr. Hartnell.

Oh we're accustomed to
dealing with delicate matters.

I feel that I should explain
that my visit is concerned

with the uh, larger aspects of justice.

One does tend to regard
one's own legal difficulties

as a reflection of the law as a whole,

what is your particular, trouble?

Not my trouble Mr. Hartnell, yours.

- Mine?
- I understand you've

been receiving threatening letters.

- Go on.
- I represent the Sunday Star,

a paper that could be
of great help to you.

- You are a reporter?
- That's right.

With your cooperation, we may
be able to expose the writer,

- and uh...
- And in the process,

spread or smear my name
across your front page

for the benefit of your
scandal-hungry readers!

- Now look...
- I'm afraid you're

wasting my time, now get out of here.

- Hey wait a minute!
- Incidentally,

how did you know about those letters?

Well the police of course.

But I haven't informed the police.

(sighs) Well uh,

we have our own sources
of information, you know.

I'm sure you have.

I understand there's very little
sacred to a newspaper man.

You've got it all wrong Mr. Hartnell,

sometimes the end justifies the means.

Our paper has always run
a crusade against crime.

Now if I could just have a
brief statement from you!

By all means.

You may quote me as saying
that if you show yourself

in my office again, I most
certainly will inform the police.

Now will you, please go?

Goodbye Mr. Billings.

(door thumping)

(footsteps tapping)

There's only one man in the force

with hands bigger than his
feet, Inspector Corcoran.

Well, and what might you be here doing

in these judicial surroundings, eh?

Uh, just going about my lawful business.

Now don't tell me you've actually

managed to pinch somebody?

We're always pinching criminals Mike,

in spite of what people think
after reading your paper!

Oh, so you read the Sunday Star?

That doesn't mean I like it!

Why don't you go about
your own business Mike

and leave the police to attend to theirs?

Well, we have to keep Scotland
Yard on its toes you know,

besides it's good for circulation!

Not for mine!

Think of the credit side,

I've given you a few tips
in my time haven't I?

Yeah, and a few dud ones.

Oh well, we can't be lucky all the time,

I've just had proof of that.

Uh, been sticking your nose into

where it doesn't belong again?

Oh I wouldn't say that,

just a lead that didn't come to very much.

But don't worry about your Sunday reading,

I'll try and cook up
something else for you!

And if your inspiration fails you,

there's always the Unsolved Murder's file.

These victims are dead
but their cases live on!

What are the police doing, yah-cha!

Hey, that-that's not a bad idea!

Thanks Corky!

(typewriters clacking)
(faint chattering)

Busted hearts to mend, tell Aunt Agatha.

Oh, bust your head one of these days!

Oh...

Two years ago I was in love with a man

but I refused his offer of marriage.

I have since been out with other men,

but as none of them measure
up to my first love,

I decided to return to him,

only to fin him courting another girl.

Dear Aunt Agatha, will you please advise

on a course of action as I'm
sure I'm going into a decline.

PN, Birmingham.

Percy did I ever tell you that I came here

to be a journalist and not to play a...

Lots of times, Jenny.

Then why don't you
do something about it?

I'm only a humble Features Editor,

the boss upstairs, he
makes all the assignments!

Anyway what are you beefing about,

he-he likes the work you're doing!

Well, I can soon fix that!

Nah, n-n-n-now wait Jenny!

Now, Jenny, be a good girl now will you?

I, I'll put in a word for you!

All right, but it had better be soon!

(sighing)

Look uh, see anything of Mike lately?

He's down in the Cuttings
Library doing some research.

Eh, why, is he onto something?

My fiancee is deeply
engrossed in his work,

and very secretive, he
never tells me anything.

Now now tell me, was he
enthusiastic, or was he,

was he sort of groping, eh?

He looked like a man
who'd won a sweepstake,

and lost the ticket.

Uh-hmm.

Ah, how sweet!

Dear Aunt Agatha, I have taken your advice

and proposed to my chief who accepted,

because he can take me off his income tax.

I am now more in love than ever.

Well and I didn't
think you cared anymore.

Yeah, what the heck have you got there?

There's the Unsolved Murder file.

But, but I thought
you were working on a,

on a man called Hartnell?

Nah, dead loss,

he told me never to darken his door again.

Eh, you got something else?

The astrology page.

Astrolo...

Astrology, look, we've got
a crime campaign, remember?

Wish someone would switch me to crime.

You're too young and innocent, my sweet.

Well hardly the prime qualifications

for writing Aunt Agatha's Column.

For instance, I bet that's
never happened to you.

(rustling)
(tearing)

Hey Percy, how's this
for fate in the stars,

significant dates and all that?

Henry Richards, murdered
July the 10th 1951,

David Hughes murdered July the 10th, 1952,

Robert Farel found dead, open
verdict, July the 10th 1953!

Yeah with only 365 days
to choose from you'll find

that quite a lot of people must
have died on the same date,

in consecutive years.

But not with this link Percy!

Each of the obituaries state,

a distinguished career,

as an officer in the second World War.

Eh, War Office please, Public Relations.

I want to speak to Mr. Harold Williams.

They might even have
belonged to the same unit.

Oh, a blood pact!

(chuckles) Eh, brother
officers in the same unit

agree to bump each other off by numbers,

the last one to commit hari-kari!

(chuckles) Hello Harold?

Mike Billings, how are you?

Do me a favour will you Harold?

I want you to check back on
some army list bag numbers.

Yeah, I want the units.

Right, Henry Richards, died 51.

David Hughes, died 52.

Robert Farel, died 53.

Oh, well what about records,

could they give it to you right away?

That's fine, thank you
Harry, that'll be grand.

You'll ring me back?

Good, buh-bye!
(telephone clattering)

All right Percy I'll take your bet.

Three shillings to 300.

You're on!

For a long-shot like that you
deserve to lose three bob!

(chuckles) Let's see that,
what's that, three shillings,

uh (mumbles) fiver, multiply
by uh, 15 quid, 15 quid,

and the original bet.

(Percy chuckling)
Eh, 15 quid, 15 quid,

(telephone ringing)
I'll teach you (mumbles)

a bad thing here Percy.

Hello there.

All right, what's the news?

(Percy chuckling)

(Percy laughing)

No, you sure?

No thanks, you've been a great help.

(telephone clattering)

All right, artillery,

signals, infantry.

Hmm, (sighs) ah you'll never get rich!

(typewriters clacking)
(faint chattering)

Having trouble dear?

Losing my touch, Jenny.

Oh, not you Mike.

No one can generate so much
indignation per paragraph.

You're a sweet.

I really am in trouble on this uh,

here, one colonel and two majors,

they've cost me a bob apiece already.

(Jenny chuckling)

Colonel Richards,

- Hmm.
- ...he was murdered a

- couple years ago.
- Yeah, three to be precise.

I met him during the war.

What was that you said?

You met him?

Yes, I was in the
DJAG's office in Cairo.

He came in to see about some
papers for a court-martial.

He was to be the Presiding Officer.

Court-martial eh, hey wait a minute!

Gimme Harold Williams again!

Who's Harold Williams?

Oh, Public Relations
Officer, War Office.

Do you know Jenny this could be it?

Yes, (mumbles) don't forget this wa...

Sh, sh, Harold?

Oh Mike again!

Look old man those three names,

could you find out if
they ever served together

on a court-martial at any time?

Certainly old boy!

I'll make a note of it, ring you tomorrow.

Huh?

Yes I know it's a newspaper
office but dash it all

you can't go streaking about here!

Big brass would wonder what's hit them!

Half an hour?

Oh no no, it can't be done
I, I-I'm terribly busy!

Oh very well if you insist
I'll ring you back in an hour!

(telephone clattering)

How many Mr. Williams?

In triplicate please.

One, two, three.

Oh, call for you Mr. Billings!

Thanks!

Hello, Billings here, that you Harold?

Yeah I-I I know, I mean I-I'm very sorry.

(sighs) But of course I appreciate,
but what have you found?

But that, but that's terrific!

Thank you very much,
thanks a million, bye!

(telephone clattering)
Percy, they all served

together on the same
court-martial in Cairo!

Do you still think it's a coincidence?

Thousands of officers served on

thousands of court-martials.

And I suppose they all got
murdered on July the 10th!

Why July the 10th?

Is that the date of the court-martial?

But of course, why
didn't I think of that?

Get out of my way!

Uh, give me the War
Office please, Mr. Harold...

Yes, that's right.

What was the date Jenny,
(stammers) you were there?

But there were dozens, I can't
remember one in particular!

Percy if this works out the way I think,

we're gonna call that bet null and void!

H-Hello?

Harry?

Oh Harry old man, yes it's me.

Uh uh uh about those three,

(sighs), Harry it'll only take a minute,

you must still have
the files on your desk.

Well what is it then?

Exact date of court-martial?

Well, all right, here it is then.

(typewriters clacking)
(faint chattering)

Oh no are-are you sure?

(sighing)
(telephone clattering)

December the 1st, 1945.

Do you mind if I get on with some work?

This is no good for my blood pressure!

War Office please, Mr. Harold Williams!

Hey, what do you think you're up to?

Helping you out with a
little feminine intuition.

(mumbling)

So you can put that up

your tunic and...
(mumbling)

- Eh?
- Mr. Harold Williams?

- Huh?
- Hello?

Oh I, I say I, I'm most terribly sorry!

Oh, that's quite all right Mr. Williams.

Uh this is Jenny Drew of the Sunday Star.

I wonder if you'd kindly help me?

You would, oh that is sweet of you.

You Public Relations officers
do such a wonderful job!

That court-martial that Mr.
Billings rang you about,

I wonder could you tell
me what was the name of

the Prosecuting Officer?

Yes.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

(telephone clattering)

- Well?
- Well you can thank

your Auntie Agatha for your lead.

The name of the Prosecuting
Officer was a Major RK Hartnell.

Hartnell, yeah...

Hartnell!

Well, well, well!

(glass thumping)
(patrons chattering)

Ah, there you are.

I don't know whether to buy you a drink

or pretend I haven't seen you.

I haven't time for either.

Today's the 7th of July,
Saturday will be the 10th!

- You amaze me.
- On the 10th of July

a murder's gonna be committed.

Good, yours I hope.

I've got four men
linked by a court-martial.

Three have already been killed
and the fourth is lined up.

Do me a favour Mike,
save your fairy stories

for the children's page, huh?

I'm serious, Corky!

I happen to know that the last man

has already received threatening letters.

Ever heard of Hartnell
and Staples, solicitors?

- Can't say I have.
- Well you're going to now.

Come on, I'll tell you all
about it on the way over!

Oh, will you tell Mr. Hartnell that...

I'll deal with this.

Mr. Hartnell gave instructions that if

you came here again I
was to call the police.

- (typewriter clacking)
- I'll save you the trouble.

Oh.

Yes Inspector, I'll tell Mr. Hartnell.

Right away.

By the way, how did you know
he received those letters?

Oh a little bird told me.

Stool pigeon variety?

- Inspector Corcoran?
- Oh hello Miss Robens!

Nice to see you again.

Will you come this way please?

Thank you.

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon, Inspector.

Mr. Billings has given
me some information

about some threatening letters
you received, Mr. Hartnell.

Then he had no right to.

I think it would have been wise

if you had reported them to us.

I really don't see why.

Just some fool, trying to get
his name in the newspapers.

(drawer clattering)

There were three.

I threw the others away.

I'd like to keep this if I may?

If it amuses you.

This may be more than a practical joke

- you know Mr. Hartnell.
- It's a little too

melodramatic to be anything
else, don't you think?

You were in the Judge
Advocate General's department

in Cairo during the war weren't you?

Yes, I was.

You were also Prosecuting Officer

at a court-martial on
December the 1st, 1945.

Was I, I don't remember,
there were so many.

I can give you the
names of the other members

of that court-martial, Colonel Richards,

Major Hughes, Major Farel.

Uh yes I do seem to recall

- the names...
- Mr. Hartnell in the last

three years, all those
men have been murdered.

Each on the same date in
consecutive years, July the 10th.

You are the last remaining
member of that court-martial,

that's why you must attach
significance to those letters.

- Yes, but good heaven's...
- Mr. Hartnell,

the 10th is ringed in red ink.

(clattering)

(button clicking)

Uh, yes Mr. Hartnell?

Miss Robens, my calendar
is ringed, for the 10th.

Do you know why?

It's Saturday, the day I
leave to start my holiday.

You asked me to mark it to remind you

to get my work up to date.

Oh yes of course, I'm sorry (chuckles).

Thank you.

Inspector might I suggest you,
check, Mr. Billing's story?

Imagination isn't uncommon
among members of his profession.

Now look here Mike.

I've had about as much
from you as I can take.

Now hold on Corky, you
know I get my facts straight,

Hartnell's just being
(mumbles) that's all.

Well anyway if there's anything in this

the press will be informed
through the usual channels!

Oh no, on Saturday
the 10th we go to press,

and if there's anything in
this case it's gonna break then

and I'm gonna be here to pick
up those pieces exclusively!

- I'm making no promises.
- All right, we'll give it

to the evening's tonight.

It's gonna be more interesting when

the murderer finds out
what he's up against!

And incidentally, you
wouldn't be trying to

cross-check me at the
War Office would you?

You wouldn't be trying to
find out who the prisoner was

at that court-martial, and if you do,

you wouldn't be trying to keep
it to yourself, would 'ya?

Of course not!

Well, that seems to be everything.

Better give me those
sentences again Mr. Williams.

Corporal George Martin, five years.

Private Lessing five years.

Private Alfred Vickery, 18 months.

Hmm, they'd all have been out
four years, with remissions.

Here's something that
might help on Lessing.

An Australian Army request
for his record in '52.

Probably tried to join up in Sydney.

Hmm.

Perhaps I'll drop into Australia House.

In the meantime you see what
you can get on the other two.

- Right sir.
- Thank you very much

Mr. Williams, I'm most grateful.

(traffic rumbling)

So you see Inspector,
Lessing was aboard ship

as a state assisted migrant on
the date you mention in 1951.

And as their passports are withheld

in Australia on arrival...

Sorry I can't help you more.

But you have helped me.

By elimination.

(telephone ringing)

- Hello?
- Corcoran here.

- Yes sir.
(mumbling)

No sir, nothing on George Martin yet,

but we've got a line on his brother Tom.

Apparently he's got a tobacconist
shop down near Fulham.

I was just going down there.

No you keep after Vickery.

I'll deal with Martin.

(traffic rumbling)

(pedestrians chattering)

(metallic slamming)

(door clattering)
(doorbell ringing)

[Man] Morning.

- (door slamming)
- Good morning.

(thumping)

- Mr. Tom Martin?
- Yes, that's right.

- What can I do for you?
- I'm a police officer.

- Oh yes?
- We're making inquiries

about your brother George Martin.

We'd like to have a few
words with him if we may.

If it's trouble, that's his middle name.

But I'm afraid he's got a cast iron alibi.

Would you like to come this way?

Come in Inspector.

I'd like to show you something.

They uh,

they sent me this about four years ago.

- A death certificate?
- Yes they must have

found out that I was the next of kin.

Did you follow it up in any way?

No, I'm afraid my bother and I

didn't get on very well together.

Well when did you last see him?

Well, before the war we ran

a business together in
Preston Road, Liverpool,

until I found out he
was fiddling the till.

We had a stand-up fight about it and,

a couple of months afterwards

I was called up and I joined the Navy.

- Cigarette?
- No thank you.

Ever heard of a man named Alfred Vickery?

Vickery?

Vi, no, can't say that I have.

He was court-martialed
with your brother.

Court-martialed.

I always knew they'd catch up with George

one way or the other.
(match hissing)

Well, thank you Mr. Martin,

I'm sorry for having troubled you.

Not a bit Inspector,

anytime you think I can help, do come in.

(traffic rumbling)

[Driver] They've located Vickery sir,

(mumbles) market area.

Okay let's go!

(metallic slamming)

(engine revving)

(pedestrians chattering)

(brassy street band music)

(birds chirping)
(cheerful street band music)

Hey just a minute!

- Who me?
- Is your name Vickery?

Look gov, I know nothing
about that Lewisham job!

Thanks, I'll pass the information on

to whoever's working on it.

You mean you're not...

Hey you want to be careful
what you say about people,

there's such a thing as
defamation of character you know!

Your character with five
convictions in four years?

Mistaken identity, every one of them.

Not that I'd pay you (mumbles) mind you.

Good, then we can have a chat.

- Do you live here?
- Uh, yeah but I'm

- afraid I'm...
- Come on open up!

(lock clicking)

(clock ticking)

- (door slamming)
- I-It's a bit untidy in

there governor, do you
mind if we talk out...

(latch clicking)
(clock chimes ringing)

Nice little clock isn't it uh,

I'm looking after it
for a pal of mine, Fred,

you don't know him, do you?

He's away for, six months, holiday.

I see.

Can't stand the TV
(mumbles) can you governor,

I'm looking after that for an aunt,

poor old saw going blind.

And I suppose your
uncle's going deaf, is he?

- Oh now look Inspector...
- Okay let it pass,

what do you know about
a man named Hartnell?

Hartnell, Hartnell?

Can't say as I ever heard of him.

Where were you at this time last year?

Last year, uh the beginning of July uh,

m-me and the missus went
to the seaside for a week.

I see huh, tell me,

what days was that?

Well uh, which one you interested in?

The 10th.

Oh a lovely day we went for a paddle.

Very (mumbles), huh?

Tell me when did you last
see Colonel Richards,

or Majors Farel and Hughes?

(chuckles) Oh, don't be silly,

(chuckles) the only reason
I got to be a private

was 'cause there's nothing lower.

They were members of the court-martial

that sent you up for 18 months in 1946.

Oh them, busybodies,

what we never got no formal introduction.

No manners some people.

And I suppose you don't know

that they all met violent death

in the last three years, huh?

Oh really?

(chuckles) What a shame, ha!

Well you don't think I had
anything to do with it, do you?

No I don't, you haven't
the guts to begin with.

(sighing)
Why didn't you get

five years like the others?

Well it was there racket see,

I was only doing a little bit of carrying.

George Martin was number one,

he swore to get everyone one of them

when he heard the sentence.

Why don't you go and see him?

He's been dead four years.

No, really?

I wonder which way he went.

His brother's got a
tobacconist's shop in Fulham,

- do you know him?
- No, I heard him

speak about him though,
loved him like poison.

Well, if that's all Inspector, perhaps...

For the moment.

I want to see you in the morning,

shall we say, 10 o'clock?

- What for?
- I want you to meet

an old acquaintance of
yours, Mr. Hartnell,

the Prosecuting Officer at the trial.

Oh him, there's a right one for you.

Hasn't anyone thought of doing him in yet?

- Yes.
- Who?

That's why I want you
to see if you recognise

anybody at the office or
if anybody recognises you.

Oh, it's like that is it?

Uh, w-where do I go, Inspector?

Oh don't worry, we'll pick you up.

Oh, do you have to give
the place a bad name?

(cuckoo clock singing)

(telephone ringing)

- Hello?
- Mr. Corcoran?

- Yeah?
- I have a call for you.

- Yes Corcoran here.
- Hello Inspector,

Mike Billings!

So you did get around to seeing my friend

at the War Office did you?

Now look, I don't want
you to kill yourself

with gratitude Inspector but I'd like

to now what's going on.

All right then but not a word goes

into print until I say so!

You know you can trust me.

There were three men
convicted at the court-martial

for stealing army equipment.

George Martin, Morris
Lessing and Alfred Vickery.

The first two got five years
apiece, Vickery 18 months.

Martin's dead, Lessing's in Australia,

and I've seen Vickery this morning.

I've also seen Martin's brother.

Huh, what's that about Martin's brother?

Ah well he couldn't help very much,

the two of them parted
after a row before the war,

and that's the last
they saw of each other.

You don't think that hate
could be a blind, do you?

Well it occurred to me and I've checked,

it's on the records all right.

Well Inspector what's the next move?

Are you gonna take Vickery along
to Hartnell's office to uh,

see if he recognises anybody?

That's my business.

I haven't thought about it yet and,

don't you try to do my thinking for me!

(telephone clanging)
(chuckling)

- Well?
- It's a golden egg, Percy.

Golden egg, all we've got to do is

to sit on it just a little longer.

Well let's hope that
what you're sitting on is

a golden egg and not a lemon.

Still clutching his scoop to his bosom?

Yeah I don't know the place exactly

but he's still clutching it.

- (Mike laughing)
- Think he's got something

to hide, some black-eyed beauty
who's holding out on him.

Black-eyed beauty, oh yeah.

Black-eyed beauty?

(clattering)

Jenny, you're a genius!

- Thanks!
- Get me Hartnell and Staples,

will you?

Mike what's going on?

They're a firm of
solicitors, Middle Temple.

Mike I said

- what's going on?
- Sh, this is business Jenny!

Eh, funny business.

Uh Hartnell and Staples?

Oh good, Miss Robens, please!

Miss Robens, my my!

You worked much faster
than that when we were new.

(sighs) Eh, Miss Robens?

Oh good, that's fine, uh
this is Mike Billings here,

you remember me, don't you?

Uh uh no, no, Mike, Billings, Sunday Star.

(chuckles) Yes, that's right, um,

now you may think this
is a little unusual,

Miss Robens, but uh...

Oh, I'm sorry about that, but um,

I'd, I'd rather like to see
you this evening if I may.

Well, I always knew
newspaper men had a nerve, but,

if you think I've nothing better

to do with my evenings than...

What?

Uh, what about Mr. Hartnell?

How do I know this isn't just a line?

All right then.

Say, seven o'clock?

Oh, where?

All right.

Goodbye.

Anything that concerns me, Miss Robens?

Uh, no Mr. Barratt, just personal.

Oh.

Right, all right!

And apart from all that I suppose

it hasn't occurred to you that you have

a date with me this evening!

- Oh no!
- Oh yes,

but don't let me spoil your fun!

(stammers) Oh darling, I'm so sorry,

I completely forgot!

You must realise that that-this is just...

- Business!
- Hmm.

- Hmm.
- Yeah.

I tell you what, I'll (mumbles)

lunch at the Morocco tomorrow!

How's that?

(typewriters clacking)
(faint chattering)

Percy what do you do
with a man like that?

Why don't you write to Aunt Agatha?

(paper crumpling)

- (pleasant music)
- No but seriously Miss Robens

I regard this as anything but a joke.

That's why I was at your office

yesterday with Inspector Corcoran.

I gather Mr. Hartnell
was still not impressed.

- The police are.
- Then why not

leave it to them?

If we wait for them to
start asking questions

and one of your staff is in on it,

he's gonna have plenty of
time to think up an alibi.

You really do believe in this don't you?

In two days time it may
be made abundantly clear,

by Mr. Hartnell's death.

- Mr. Billings...
- My name is Mike.

Here's to our cooperation, Miss uh...

Laura.

(pleasant music)
(patrons chattering)

Well, what do you want to know?

Have there been any strangers
at your office recently?

People Mr. Hartnell wasn't
particularly pleased to see?

Well, you, for a start.

Oh yes, fine, (sighs) apart from me.

You see, he knows all
the people he deals with.

- Hmm.
- Any new clients

are handled by Mr. Staples.

Staples oh, he's the partner, isn't he?

Yes, but, uh...

Yes, go on.

Well there is one person
who has cause for disliking

- Mr. Hartnell.
- Uh-hmm?

Mr. Barratt.

Oh, why?

When Mr. Hartnell
came back after the war,

he found that Barratt had been mishandling

the property account funds.

How is it he's still there?

Mr. Hartnell's practise is

an old and very well established one,

naturally he wanted to avoid any scandal.

- Uh-hmm.
- So he put the

money back himself,
several thousand pounds.

Barratt has been paying
it back ever since.

Must be a bit irritating.

Tell me, does he often
leave the office to uh,

visit clients, or...

Occasionally.

Why?

This may be a very long shot Laura.

Could you find out what he was doing,

July the 10th, last year?

And the year before that if you can?

I don't know about it being a long shot,

but it's certainly a tall order.

Anyway I'll try, if you
think it's important.

I do, good girl!

Who knows, there may be
a thread leading back

to the Vickerys and Martins of this world.

(tense music)

(door clattering)

(latch clacking)

(drawer clattering)

(paper rustling)

(drawer clattering)

(suspenseful music)

(dramatic music)

(grandfather clock chiming)

(grunting)

(rotor whirring)

(telephone ringing)

Hello, yes?

Corcoran speaking.

Mr. Martin?

What can we do for you?

I know this might sound
funny to you Inspector,

but you know the death certificate

I showed you the other day?

I suppose it is genuine.

(chuckles) Of course not but I'd,

feel more assured if
you could look into it.

(chuckles) I'm sorry to bother
you like this but eh, uh...

What?

You'll send around to pick it up?

Thank you.

Goodbye.

(telephone clattering)

Personally I can't
share your concern at my,

projected murder.

We're beyond the personal
stage, Mr. Hartnell.

Those letters you received
are sufficient grounds

for reopening three unsolved murders.

Did the victims receive letters?

- We don't know.
- Then I fail to see why

you should link me with them!

You're working to theories
Inspector, not facts!

Mr. Hartnell, I've brought a man along.

I want you to allow him to
get a good look at your staff.

By all means who is he?

One of the men you
sentenced, Alfred Vickery.

- Oh really.
- He's outside now.

Well then he'll have seen my staff.

That is all except,
Barratt and Miss Robens.

And they're working in Mr. Staples office.

In that case perhaps
you can find a reason

to bring them in, then we can
see if he recognises them.

(sighs) All right.

So you're Vickery.

Mr. Vickery if you don't mind.

You remember Mr. Hartnell.

I'll say, I see he hasn't
broken himself of the habit yet.

- Habit?
- Breathing.

That's enough of that.

How 'bout the people outside?

Never seen any of 'em before in me life.

And even if I had, I'm
not sure I'd squeal.

- Not for this one.
- I'd be careful, Vickery.

Okay.

[Barratt] Yes Mr. Hartnell?

Barratt, bring that trust
conveyance in to me will you?

- Yes Mr. Hartnell.
- Conveyance?

Going for a ride are we?

Save the comedy stuff,
take a good look at him,

that's all you've got to do.

(typewriter clacking)

Thank you I'll,

send it out for copying
when I'm finished with it.

Yes sir.

[Hartnell] And Barratt, you might ask

Miss Robens to come in.

Very good sir.

Well?

I wouldn't like to be in the same

knitting circle with him!

- Why not?
- I just don't like the

look of his pan, that's all!

You wanted to see me Mr. Hartnell?

Yes Miss Robens, I've
arranged for Mr. Staples

to take over the Witworth negotiations,

the documents are all in order.

You might take them to him
straight away, will you?

- Straight away?
- That's what I said, yes.

Yes Mr. Hartnell.

- (door thumping)
- Well?

- Smasher, isn't she?
- Ever seen her before?

No, worst luck, she wasn't in my unit!

You were looking at her rather closely.

Well you weren't exactly
ignoring her yourself!

I'd like to have a word
with your partner if I may.

I'm sorry, Mr. Staples isn't available.

- Isn't available?
- No, he's away.

He had a touch of flu, he's convalescing,

he should be back in a day or so.

Ah, Inspector, something fishy here!

- He just sent the girl...
- All right Vickery.

It may seem odd to you
Inspector but I told Miss Robens

to take the documents to
Mr. Staples, not into him,

that was why she was
surprised at being sent.

Of course, I understand.

Was he in the army with you?

No, no, he carried on the
business while I was away.

Well, thank you for your
cooperation Mr. Hartnell.

- Goodbye Inspector.
- Goodbye.

See you in court sometime!

(door slamming)

(footsteps tapping)

Fresh air smells good
after that, doesn't it?

Well, see that you continue to enjoy it.

I may want to see you again later.

My time's your time Inspector.

Don't worry, I'll see to that.

Why Inspector, fancy meeting you!

My name is Mike Billings.

How are you Mr. uh...

Mr. Billings is a newspaper ferret.

Oh, one of the clever boys eh?

(chuckles) That's right.

At present I'm trying
to save some poor devil

the inspector's trying to pin a murder on,

I think his name's uh, Vickery.

Hey what's this?

You said you wanted me to take a look

at the crowd in the office!

Thanks very much Mr. Vickery!

- Eh?
- If I was after you

I'd have kept you in yesterday,

now hop it.

Uh wait a minute!

Did you recognise anyone in there?

I've got nothing to say to the press.

Perhaps uh, you have
something to say to the press?

I could try Vickery
with a carrot, you know.

Now look here Mike, I'm serious now.

If you start bribing police witnesses,

it'll take more than the Sunday Star

to keep you out of trouble.

(clucks tongue) That's
a fine way to talk.

I thought we promised
to share information?

Well what have you got?

I've got a table for two at the Morocco.

I'm sure Jenny wouldn't mind much

if I take you to lunch instead.

Come on.

(footsteps tapping)
(traffic rumbling)

(faint chattering)

Thank you, very much.

Uh, to commence with monsieur,

may I suggest a little hors d'oeuvre

or (speaking foreign
language), or pate maison?

And t-to follow just a

(speaking foreign language), hot or cold.

For fish, something like uh, like uh,

scampi, or (speaking foreign language).

Now we come to the
(speaking foreign language).

We have lamb croquettes
(speaking foreign language),

a steak (speaking foreign language),

or would you like a bird?

If so, may I recommend the
specialty of the house,

(speaking foreign language)!

Hmm, (clearing throat) well
have what you like old man,

it's-it's all on the house.

Well some eh, pate
(speaking foreign language).

The pate (speaking foreign language).

Eh, Chicken Marengo.

- Check Marengo!
- And eh,

crepes suzette with
(speaking foreign language).

With (speaking foreign
language), certainly monsieur!

(comically irritated music)

And why didn't Miss
Robens tell me all this?

Hmm, maybe you didn't ask her?

Hmm, so Barratt is repaying Hartnell

out of his salary, is that it?

Uh-huh.

And since no court order
or official record,

Mr. Hartnell's disappearance
off the face of the Earth,

will be very fortunate for Mr. Barratt.

Hmm, I see what you mean.

And that's about all for my end, Corky.

How 'bout you?

Well you may as well know
we drew a blank with Vickery.

What?

You mean to say that you're getting

all this under false pretences?

Well not entirely.

I had a check made on George
Martin's death certificate.

Uh-uh, fake?

No it's genuine all right,

but there's one thing I
hadn't noticed before.

What's that?

The date of his death
is July the 10th, 1950.

Uh-hmm, that date again eh?

You know I must be crazy.

I'm chasing a murder that
hasn't been committed yet,

with threatening letters

that haven't even been
officially reported,

and a case of embezzlement where
the victim won't prosecute.

Oh don't forget Barratt, on the motive.

Yeah, but how does he
tie in with the others?

Maybe Laura's found
out something about that.

Ooh, it's Laura now is it?

And tell me how is

- ...Jenny these days?
- Hmm?

Oh she, she's fine, fine.

Oh.

The understanding type.

(Mike sighing)
I hope.

(typewriters clacking)
(hat thumping)

(thudding)

All right so you're mad at me.

So I apologise.

- (paper crumpling)
- That's all right!

I like sandwiches!

Jenny, Jenny, I-I had to
send the inspector a lunch,

he won't talk unless he's well nourished!

I thought you were
getting your information

from a black-eyed beauty?

Yes, well I'm working on her too!

I'll bet you are!

Jenny, Jenny darling look here!

I don't have to look
anywhere to know what sort of

a man you are, you're
selfish and thoughtless and,

- and a rake!
- Huh, a rake?

You children certainly do
your courting the hard way.

Oh Jenny, Jenny darling,
I-I-I'm sorry about lunch,

I know I should have phoned!

But I-I will make it up to you!

How about a show tonight eh?

There's a good new musical
on, I, I know you'd like that.

Okay (lips smacking)?

- Yeah?
- All right.

But you'd better be there, that's all!

Oh I will, promise!

(telephone ringing)

Oh!

Hello yes?

Oh hello!

About that date you
mentioned, July the 10th.

Well I found out that,
(latch clicking)

I'm afraid Mr. Hartnell's booked up sir.

Booked up what?

Oh I get it.

Listen you don't need to talk now,

I'll meet you tonight.

Eight o'clock.

I'll meet you at...

- Taxi sir?
- Yes, please.

Sorry I couldn't trace
back more than a year, Mike.

But I do know Barratt was on
holiday on that date last July.

All right it's something anyway.

Do you think Mr. Hartnell
will be in any danger tomorrow?

Well not at the office,

even Barratt, supposing it is him,

would hardly be fool enough
to start anything there.

Unless, what about the
windows, are they overlooked?

Never taken much notice.

You know it might be
as well to find out,

the general layout a little better.

You got your keys?

Yes, but I couldn't!

[Man] Your taxi sir.

Come on.

(church bells ringing)

(footsteps thumping)

(keys jingling)

That's odd, it's open.

You get up there out of
the way, leave this to me.

(smacking)
(groans) Oh...

(footsteps thumping)

Mike!

Mike, are you all right?

(sighs) I'm all right, I think.

Well come and sit down.

Thanks...

Who was it, did you see?

Yes, it was Barratt.

Barratt?

(sighing)

Wonder what he's doing
at, this time of night.

(sighs) Where's your phone?

Oh, it's on the desk, here.

(telephone clattering)

This should interest the inspector.

(rotor buzzing)

(door slamming)
Where to Laura?

Oh, 10 Bolton Place.

Uh, 10 Bolton Place, please.

Look, are you sure you'll be all right?

Mm yes, yes I'll, I'll
be all right, don't worry.

Now don't forget Laura,
not a word about Barratt,

at the office, it's a,
(mumbles) see you tonight,

- look after him.
- All right.

Goodnight Mike, I'll call you tomorrow.

Yes, goodnight.

(engine revving)

Just a minute gov.

Oh it's you.

What do you want?

- 500 pounds.
- (sighs) So do I.

I've got some information
your paper'd pay very well for.

For that much we'd want an exclusive

solution of the entire case.

Well supposing I could give it to you?

All right, let's have it.

What, just like that?

What do you take me for?

I'll spill the beans when
I see the shape of the 500.

Hey wait a minute!

Wha, where-where could I get
that kind of money tonight?

Well you can get it in
the morning can't you?

And I'll call up the
office and do my talking

while you're sitting on it.

Goodnight.

(wincing)

[Jenny] So, you finally turned up.

I've been waiting here
since seven o'clock!

- Hello Jenny.
- Four hours!

Plenty of time to do some pretty straight

thinking about the male animal!

And I've come to the
conclusion that there is

nothing lower on the face of this Earth!

I've had about all I can stand from you,

I've a jolly good mind to...

Mike, what's the matter?

It's my head, it's...

She must be quite a girl.

Please I've, had all the punishment

I can stand in one evening!

- (tender music)
- Mike you're hurt!

(Mike wincing)
Oh it's nasty!

Look, sit over there, I'll clean it out.

Thanks darling.

Certainly glad you stayed.

It's more than you deserve.

Yes I know, you're an angel.

- Who did it?
- Hmm?

Our friend Barratt.

Oh.

Why?
(wincing)

I'm sorry.

Yes, come here.

- (winces) Ooh!
- There, won't be long.

How is it?

It looks wonderful.

(sighing)
(tender music)

I think it'll be all right.

I'm sure it will.

Oh Mike...

(faint clattering)

(latch clicking)

(metallic clattering)

(clock ticking)

(clattering)
(chimes ringing)

(latch clicking)

(scuffling)
(thudding)

- Hello George.
- What the blazes

are you talking about,
my name's Tom Martin!

What's the big idea of
breaking into my place?

Eight years and a shaved off moustache

don't make all that difference.

I'm Vickery, remember?

Oh nevermind, perhaps you don't want to.

I've been watching this place George.

For the last time my name's Tom,

my brother was George and he's dead!

Yeah, that's what the inspector told me.

What's that got to do
with me, come on, get out!

Could have a lot to do with you.

I could have sworn I saw George at

a football match not so long ago.

Perhaps it was me, we
look very much alike.

Now come on, get out!

Must have made a mistake.

It's a pity though, 'cause the Sunday Star

was gonna cough up 500 quid,

if I could prove that George
Martin was still alive.

What are you getting at?

I thought we might talk this over.

Like business friends.

If it was true,

I figured it might be worth
uh, say 1000, to keep quiet.

I'd settle for 700 George.

George is dead.

People can change,

but there's one thing that never changes.

Oh?

Fingerprints.

They took ours in Cairo,

right after the court-martial, remember?

Why you dirty

- little rat!
- Now George don't...

(scuffling)
(clattering)

(grunting)

(footsteps thudding)

(scuffling)
(clattering)

(bottles rattling)
(scuffling)

(paper rustling)
(scuffling)

(grunting)

(paper rustling)

(door bell ringing)

Hello Mr. Martin!

Hello Fred!

Anything wrong?

No.

I just came downstairs without
a light for some fags and,

bumped into the counter.

[Fred] A tobacconist
without any matches?

(chuckles) Funny isn't it?

By the way, do you know
you left your door open?

No, I didn't Fred.

Sorry.

Forget me own name next.

Well goodnight Mr. Martin.

And, lock the door.
(door bell ringing)

- Goodnight Fred.
(door clattering)

(footsteps pounding)
(faint chattering)

Percy, did you get that
money I (mumbles) the boss?

Yes, yes, it's here, but the boss said...

All right, all right, we'll

double-check Vickery before
anything's handed over!

Yes, but when is he due?

Any minute now!

Hold him here till I get
back, I'm gonna see Corcoran!

But what about your story?

You'll get it, the
biggest scoop in years!

May I remind you this is Saturday

and that we go to press in five hours!

[Mike] I know!

- (telephone ringing)
- All right, I'll get it!

(typewriters clacking)

- Hello?
- Could I speak to

- Mr. Billings, please?
- Who is it calling?

Laura Robens.

Mr. Billings isn't here, I'm afraid.

[Laura] Oh I see.

Can I help you Miss Robens?

Well, it was personal.

Personal?

Oh yes?

Perhaps you could give
him a message for me?

But of course.

Well just say I was
inquiring about his head.

Oh it's much, better.

How did you know about his head?

I was with him when it happened.

Hello?

Hello?

Are you there?
(telephone clattering)

Why the jumping Jupiter
don't you take notice

of what I say, I warned you
not to interfere with Vickery!

Now, keep your shirt on,
it was his idea, not mine.

All right, then I want any information

handed over (mumbles) he gives it.

There's not much time left you know.

All right.

What about Barratt?

He got the wind up about
my visiting the office,

thought it might lead to his exposure.

He was collecting the account books

that showed his false entries
when you knocked into him.

A correction, when he knocked into me!

When I cracked his story he started

squealing about Staples.

Staples?

He's in this too is he?

Yeah it was he who
started it apparently.

Barratt found out, thought it
looked easy and followed suit.

Nice people.

Does Hartnell know, about Staples I mean?

Oh yes, he's repaying
too the same as Barratt

only on a larger scale!

I certainly wish Hartnell
would be more cooperative.

Yeah...

You giving him protection?

No he won't hear of it.

He's safe enough in daylight, I think.

I'm putting a couple of men in his house

after dark whether he likes it or not.

Uh.

I must be getting back, wait for Vickery.

(telephone ringing)

Yeah?

Yes, Corcoran here.

What?

No identity?

I see.

I'll be right over.
(telephone clattering)

- Huh?
- The river police

have just fished a body out of the river.

They think it might be a friend of ours.

You better come along.
(rotor whirring)

Mr. Hartnell please.

Yes Miss, Detective Sergeant Smith.

(matches rattling)

(match hissing)

Mr. Hartnell?

Yes that's right.

Inspector Corcoran asked me to call you.

No no, he's out at the moment.

We found out who sent you those letters.

He wants me to call
and see you personally.

But that's ridiculous,
why can't you tell me now?

Half an hour?

But it's Saturday, we
close the office at 12:30!

(sighing)

Well of course I do...

All right I'll wait in until one o'clock.

Thank you Mr. Hartnell, I'll be there.

(telephone clattering)

You bet I will.

(rustling)

(engine revving)

(sea bird screeching)

(tyres screeching)

(ship's horn blowing)

There is severe head injury sir.

I'd say he was dead before
he was put in the water.

Vickery.

We'll never know what he had to sell, now.

- (sea birds squealing)
- Try and trace his

movements last night Sergeant,

find out who were the
last people to see him.

Right sir!

I was one of 'em.

Now, don't look at me like that, Corky.

Sometimes I wouldn't put
(ship's horn blowing)

even that past 'ya.

Well, where to now?

There's one person has me beat,

the elusive Mr. Staples,
have you ever seen him?

- No.
- Neither have I,

neither has Vickery.

It's time somebody did, let's
go down to Hartnell's office.

- (sea bird singing)
- Right.

(engine revving)

(car rumbling)

Hey wait a minute Corky!

Today is Saturday, if Staples
is convalescing from flu,

he's hardly likely to go to the office

for half a day, is he?
(Corcoran sighing)

Well we an always go down there first

- and find out.
- It's a waste of time,

they close down at half past 12,

it's more than that already.

Staple's home is his best bet.

- You know where he lives?
- Yes, I've got

his address somewhere it's,
it's in Golder's Green.

Okay make it Golder's Green!

(engine revving)

Well that seems to be
everything Miss Robens.

We should manage without
too much dislocation

while you're away.

Good heavens I've kept you late!

20 minutes won't make much difference

of a fortnight's holiday.

The rest of the staff gone?

- Yes.
- Well you get along too,

leave those, one of the
girls can do them on Monday.

Oh thank you.

- Miss Robens?
- Yes?

I'm afraid I've been
rather on edge lately.

That's all right, I know
you've had a lot on your mind.

Yes I have, the press in particular.

Publicity sometimes isn't a good thing

in the legal profession, I'm sorry.

I understand.

Well be sure you have a good time.

- I will!
(knocking)

(door clattering)

Sergeant, Smith, is it?

I hope I'm not late Mr. Hartnell?

No not at all, do come in.

(door clattering)

There's no need for you
to stay, Miss Robens.

I'd rather she did, if you don't mind.

Not at all.

Well I'm sure that won't be necessary.

You may need her to take some notes.

(door slamming)

(lock clicking)

Why are you doing that?

Your life's in danger.

I've already told Inspector Corcoran

what I think of his ridiculous theories.

Those letters were
written in deadly earnest.

[Hartnell] You say
you know who sent them?

Yes.

Where does that door lead to?

[Hartnell] Well that's
a private waiting room.

Is there a backdoor?

- Yes.
- Is it locked?

Yes, I locked it myself.

Now look here, I've had enough of this!

Either you, come to the point
or I'll call the commissioner!

(Laura gasping)

You don't remember me, do you?

I've changed quite a bit.

My name is Martin.

George Henry Martin.

(telephone clattering)

Is this your idea of a joke?

Colonel Richards didn't
think it was funny.

Nor Major Hughes, or Farel.

But Corcoran said, Martin, was dead?

Yes, that's right, he is.

My brother Tom.

The only decent thing he ever did for me.

I saw him die in a cheap
Manchester lodging house.

The doctor put down the name I gave him

on the death certificate.

You'd be surprised how easy it was!

I swore I'd get you for those five years

in that stinking prison!

You're the last one Hartnell!

The date is the 10th!

The day George Martin saw his
own death certificate signed!

Keep away from that door!

Martin, Miss Robens had
nothing to do with this.

Perhaps not, but she's seen me.

It's a pity but...

But you can't, kill us...

In cold blood is the expression.

- Can't I?
- Oh my goodness.

(gun firing)

(fist smacking)
(grunting)

(scuffling)
(grunting)

(thudding)
(dramatic music)

(wincing)

- Mr. Hartnell, your arm!
- No, it's nothing!

Excuse me, but is it always
like this on Saturdays?

I don't know who you
are, but it was providence

that put you in that waiting room!

No, no, oh it was the office boy,

he put me in there two hours ago.

I came to see Miss Robens
but he said she was busy.

To see me?

But why?

I came to have a look at the opposition.

(traffic rumbling)

(footsteps thudding)

Sorry we couldn't
contact you earlier sir,

they said you'd gone to Golder's Green.

Oh...

Jenny, what are you doing here?

Do you know the full story?

- Uh-hmm.
- You do?

Well stand by and I'll give you to Percy!

Taking Martin to the station sir.

- Is it bad?
- No no no.

Inspector, I owe you an apology.

- And Billings, too.
- Uh, Percy?

Mike, all right Percy this is it!

(chuckles) Why the story, of course!

(sighing)

Yes, that's right, Martin.

Eh, huh?

Oh, how do you mean, Percy?

(sighs) Percy, what are you saying?

Yes Percy.

He says I can put my name on it too,

and he's taking me off the agony column,

so there'll be a vacancy there (chuckles).

- (sighing)
- How do you like that?

First my scoop, then my job.

Now what do I do?

Short of marrying the girl, nothing.

(chuckling)

Marry...

Jenny, Jenny!
(suspenseful music)

- Yes Mike?
(triumphant dramatic music)

(pleasant peppy music)