The Saint (1962–1969): Season 1, Episode 7 - The Arrow of God - full transcript

At a house party in the Bahamas, Floyd Vosper, an odious, muck-raking journalist, is murdered by an arrow, the arrow of God, according to Astron, a fake Indian mystic who is another guest. However, since Vosper had uncovered unpleasant secrets of almost everyone present his death seems to be anything but Divine intervention.

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(Bongo drums)

(Simon) "Come to Nassau."
That's what it says.

And I came, and it is sensational.

Swimming, sailing, perfect climate.

Beautiful girlsmeverything.

Unfortunately, like 161 other
newspapers in the western hemisphere,

the Nassau press is infected
with Floyd Vosper.

"Polo-playing Hubert Winfield
is in a psychological tizzy

"now that Bobo Hamilton's divorce
is imminent."

Very tricky lad, this Vosper.

He's found out
that most people like reading dirt.



So three times weekly,
his column dishes it up.

By mixing a few grains of truth
into a mess of innuendo and smut,

Floyd Vosper pretends to report
the low-down on celebrities.

I don't know how you feel about him,

but to me he's like a...

a dirty kid scrawling filthy words
on a backyard fence.

(Knocking)

Come in! Excuse me.

- Good morning.
- Your pressing, sir.

Drop it on the bed. Thanks
for getting it back so quickly.

Land's sakes!
You're welcome, I'm sure.

It isn't every day
a gal gets a chance to press a jacket

belonging to the famous
Simon Templar.

(Knocking)



Come in.

Mr Templar, Major.

Major Fanshire,
my favourite police officer.

- Mr Templar, how are you?
- Bubbling over with good spirits.

Meaning you're as comfortable
in a police station as I am.

Why not? Like yours, my conscience
is as clear as the summer sky.

Mm-hm.

Though I did have a momentary twinge

when your police sergeant called
to say you wanted to see me.

However, it was only momentary.

- What are you doing here?
- Sailing, swimming, relaxing.

Have you any...immediate plans?

- For what?
- Causing trouble.

None.

I'm going to the Wexalls'
for the weekend, then...

The Wexalls?

- You mean Herbert Wexall?
- Yes.

Oh, and Lucy, of course.

I presume they've invited you?

Major, would I be going otherwise?

You've been to places
uninvited before.

Lucy begged me to come.

Mmm... She has a lot of
expensive jewellery.

AND silverware.

Yes.

- So long as you know that we know.
- I do now.

Nassau is quiet and peaceful.

I thought you might like to know
I intend to keep it that way.

I promise I shall cooperate
to the best of my ability.

- I'm deeply touched.
- I thought you would be.

Am I free to go?

- Give my regards to the Wexalls.
- Of course.

- Hello, Maria.
- Hello, Mr Templar.

You're in the blue room.
I'll take up your bag for you.

- Thank you.
- Mrs Wexall is in the drawing room.

(# (Iha-cha music)

- Simon, how nice!
- Hello, Lucy.

I'm so pleased to see you.

- You look marvellous!
- So do you.

- Turn that off.
- Not on my account.

This is my sister, Janet Blaise.

- Simon Templar.
- How do you do?

She's a mistake
from my parents' middle years.

I'll fish Herbert out.

He's in conference with Mr Gresson.

Conference my foot! They're telling
dirty stories. Fix Simon a drink.

What can I get you?

I think your basic reasoning
is very sound, Mr Gresson.

I'm glad you feel that way,
Mr Wexall.

I admit the investment required
is large,

but the profit potential is enormous.

Herbert, Simon Templar's here.
Come and say hello.

(Sighs)

- Excuse me a moment, will you?
- Certainly.

Miss Stone will look after you.

Fine.

Obedient, isn't he?

Polite. It's a virtue
we English rather admire.

I'm sorry, I think a great deal
of Herbert. It was just a silly joke.

Very silly.

You're what Americans call
a smart operator, aren't you?

I've heard so much about you,
I'm glad you could come.

Let's go out on the patio.

You go ahead, I'm not quite through.

Incidentally, Lucy, I've asked
Floyd Vosper for the weekend.

- You've what?
- It's only two days. You'll survive.

Floyd Vosper's absolutely sickening.
He'll ruin the whole party.

Not in front of Mr Templar.

Don't mind me. Go right ahead.

I wish you'd consult me
before inviting people.

I asked him for very important
business reasons

and I wish you'd be pleasant to him.

(Sighs) Well, it won't be easy,
but I'll try.

Thank you, darling.

Mr Templar, I'll join you
on the patio as soon as I'm through.

Floyd Vosper... Eurgh!

What do you know of his background?

I mean... Where does he come from
originally?

From underneath a stone in London.

Then he went to the States
and was educated at Harvard.

Harvard?! And he writes
a column like that?!

Yes, it is pretty poisonous.

It's a sewer sheet,
it gets worse every day.

Meaning you never miss it.

I hate it, but I can't resist it.

I wonder what Herbert meant
by business reasons.

- Maybe he wants some publicity.
- I suppose so.

He's cooking up some oil deal
with Gresson.

By the time Vosper's finished
with them, they WILL be cooked.

This geologist, is he reputable?

(Gresson) He was with
British Petroleum for 15 years.

And if I come in for £50,000,
you'll still need...how much?

Another 40.

What about your sister-in-law?
She might be interested.

- Janet?
- I understand she's pretty well-off.

Yes, Lucy's father left his fortune
equally between the two girls.

But Janet's money is tied up until
she's 30...or until she marries.

- This is my fiancé, john Herrick.
- How do you do?

- I saw you play tennis. You're good.
- Thank you.

- John, fix me a gin and tonic.
- Sure. Mr Templar?

Not for me, thanks.

- Lucy, where's Astron?
- Meditating down by the pool.

- Who's Astron?
- Not who, what!

Don't be unkind, Janet.
He's an Indian mystic.

I met him in New York and I asked him
to spend the winter with us.

Oddly enough, he didn't want to come.

He felt he'd be uncomfortable
among too much luxury.

He hates materialism,
he's writing about it.

Floyd Vosper will tear him to pieces.

Sounds like a cosy weekend.

Lucy, did you say Floyd Vosper
was coming here?

It's not my fault,
Herbert invited him.

We shall have nothing but snide
remarks and nasty cracks all weekend.

Thank you. But I tell you, if Floyd
Vosper steps one inch out of line,

you've my permission to kill him.

You too, Simon.

Me? I'm on holiday.

It is infuriating. Floyd Vosper
for 48 interminable hours.

Yeah, but Vosper,
he's the last one...

I don't like him any more than you,
but he's powerful.

His column is carried
in exactly 161 newspapers.

If he's on our side,
we'll be fighting the backers off.

I suppose you're right. But the wrong
kind of publicity...it could be bad!

Don't Americans say there's no such
thing as the wrong kind of publicity?

That's not strictly accurate.

Just the same, Vosper can make
or break this whole operation.

You're so right.

I'll go and change. Have we got time
for a swim before lunch?

You go ahead. I'll finish up here.

All right, I'll see you later.
Miss Stone.

What's the matter, Pauline?
You haven't said a word all morning.

Does it matter?
You're obviously going ahead.

I have to go ahead with it.

I wish I could convince you
that I don't care about the money.

All I want is to be married to you.

Darling, I want that too.

- Do you?
- Mm-hm.

- Well, you convinced?
- No, but I won't argue.

Oh, darling, do be patient.

Can't you see
Gresson is a heaven-sent opportunity

to get rid of Lucy
for once and for all?

Poor Lucy, I feel sorry for her.

I don't.

I don't feel sorry for her at all.

Then, after Rome, we had two weeks
in Paris and then we flew back here.

- Sounds wonderful.
- Oh, it was divine.

Herbert liked it too. He said
it was like a second honeymoon.

(Car horn blaring)

Oh, dear,
I wonder if that's Floyd Vosper.

- Let's go for a swim.
- Yes, let's.

(Iowa rds!

- Anyway, you'll stick with me.
- To the end.

Just pretend we're glad to see him.

But I warn you, don't make him mad.
He's a very dangerous man.

(Bell)

I've met a few in my time.

- Lucy, darling, how are you?
- Hello, Floyd, how are you?

It's been ages.
Let me look at you.

My! You've put on a few pounds!

A few?!

(Vosper) I really must talk to Herb.

You're obviously overeating
because you feel rejected.

It's still Miss Stone, I presume?

You certainly do. This is
Simon Templar, Floyd Vosper.

Well, well. The Saint, no less.
I know a great deal about you.

- I'm flattered.
- Don't be.

I follow your exploits
with extreme distaste.

That article about you
in The Times last Sunday

was the most nauseating thing
I've seen in print.

- Tried reading your own columns?
- A parry! Splendid!

- Defenceless people are such bores.
- Would you like to change?

- Why?
- No particular reason...

if you don't mind swimming
in your clothes.

My, but we're witty today.

I'd rather be a court jester
than a professional stinker.

- I'll fix some drinks.
- Arsenic on the rocks.

(LUCy laughs)

What a dear social
barrel of lard she is.

Floyd... How nice to see you.

Nice to see you
and the beauteous Miss Stone.

Is he still working you
as hard as ever, darling?

Hello, Mr Vosper.

Simon, you haven't met my secretary,
have you? Mr Templar, Miss Stone.

- How do you do?
- Hello.

I'm glad you could come.
I want a long talk.

Have you Lucy's permission?

Mr Vosper, just for this weekend,
could we cut out the nasty cracks?

You're asking the impossible, dear.
I enjoy watching people squirm.

I'll tell the others you're here.

(Vosper) They'll be thrilled!

Poor Herbert's a walking monument to
the hideousness of unskilled labour.

Lucy must have bought him in a sale.

Does your brand of cheap insult take
practice or were you born this way?

It takes work.
I've been working on a dossier

of the international set for years.

I checked the house-list
against my files. It's all here.

You stick close to me, I'll promise
you the most grotesque discoveries.

Well, well,
my old friend Arthur Gresson.

Oh, hello, Floyd.

- So you're promoting oil this time?
- This is strictly on the level.

- I'll bet.
- My word of honour.

Does Wexall know about your run-in
with the New York DA's Office?

That was a long time ago.

They keep files, you know...
on embezzlers.

Listen, you louse up this deal
and I'll break your back, so help me!

Keep your hands off me,
you tinhorn promoter...

or I'll tell Wexall
you've got a record.

He'll throw you out so fast
you won't believe it.

If there's two things I hate,
it's frauds and phoneys.

And you're both.

- Feel better?
- Much.

Mmm, this climate gets you,
doesn't it?

Sunshine, the palm trees,
the ocean...

- Sure does.
- john, is something wrong?

No.

You've suddenly gone all moody
and serious.

I'm sorry. just a bit depressed,
that's all.

What about?

- My past, my future...
- You'll breeze through Wimbledon.

In two months you'll be
world's champion tennis player.

What's depressing about that?

Look, Janet, I'm 30 years old.
This can't go on forever.

There must be more to life
than just playing games.

Mr Herrick, the secret of happiness
on this earth

is to live purely
for the service of God.

Astron, I wouldn't know how to do it.

You serve God
by sewing your fellow man.

You mean john should go in
for social service -

delinquent kids and that?

Miss Blaise, he is saying himself

he's wanting more from this life
than the playing of games.

I do, you know.

Oh, john, all I want
is for you to be happy.

I'll do anything you want,
go anywhere you want.

- I love you, Janet.
- I love you, too.

Uh-oh, we've got company.

Floyd, I think you know my sister,
Janet Blaise.

- We've met.
- Yes, you were combing Palm Beach.

And this is her fiancé,
john Herrick.

Ah, the terror of the Catskills.

- How are you?
- How do you do, Mr Vesper?

What's this about the Catskills?

- I played there at one time.
- And beautifully too.

- How's your game?
- Not bad.

Huh, not bad?
He's entering Wimbledon this year.

Are you, now?

- He's going to be world champion.
- I'm absolutely thrilled.

For heaven's sake, cut it out.

If you say so.

- Let's go get some lunch.
- All right.

- We're going in.
- Fine, see you.

What's Simon Templar doing here?

He happens to be a friend of mine.

I don't believe you've met Lucy's
latest addition to the menagerie.

He won't acknowledge
the introduction.

- Then, don't make it.
- I really don't intend to,

but this house has everything,
including live-in bats.

- And guests with no manners.
- Touché!

Mr Templar, I expose frauds
and Astron here is a beaut!

He's a nature boy who's concluded
a very successful season in New York.

That turban covers a hole
in his head.

He happens to be the first sincere
man I've ever met.

He's honestly trying to find
the meaning of life.

Lucy, darling, I know this squirrel.

Sure, he's searching for
the meaning of life...

inside your safety-deposit box.

Why don't I give this nasty
little boy a spanking?

Mr Templar, the blasphemer's words
are as dust in the wind.

Quaint, isn't he?

What's this?

Sherwood Forest in Nassau?

It's John's, he hunts sharks with it.

- How clever.
- He had it specially made.

He's the only one strong enough
to use it.

A distinction
of the most pathetic merit.

I think I'll have a drink before
lunch. It might relieve my boredom.

- Happy to meet you, Mr Templar.
- Nice meeting you.

- Sorry about that, Astron.
- It is of no importance.

Someone should punch him on the nose.

- Somebody should kill him.
- Somebody will.

His mockeries will be silenced
by the Arrow of God.

Herb, it's just possible
you're on to something.

I believe in it -
enough to invest £50,000.

Of Lucy's money.

Floyd, a few plugs in your column
would mean a great deal to us.

We'd have to fight the investors off.

- I'll read this carefully.
- Yes, you do that.

Mind you, if I do promote you
with my 50 million readers,

you can hardly expect me
to be satisfied

with a few meals,
a bed and some brandy.

No, we'd, erm...
take care of you, Floyd.

I'm sure you would.

I'll read this tomorrow
and then we'll talk.

No case for discarded husbands.

Floyd, I would just appreciate
your help.

In pursuit of wealth,
or the nubile Miss Stone?

Since you brought the subject up...
Yes, I do happen to love her.

Ha! That word(!)

- Well, it's true.
- I suppose it's mutual.

- Yes, I think it is.
- Oh, you think so.

You mean you've observed
the proprieties?

Yes!

- How very British.
- Floyd, I think you've said enough.

What chance would you have
of prying £50,000 out of Lucy,

if she knew about your
extra-curricular activities?

She'd throw you out!

If you want to tell her, go ahead.

Why should I?

I expect to make a considerable
profit out of this for myself.

Nassau's Robin Hood.

You try it.

Aw, please!

Archery's such an accomplishment
in this day and age.

It should enable you
to keep a wife and 10 children.

But money won't be a problem

once you've anted up
for that plain gold band.

- You know, Vosper...
- Yes, I do, don't I?

I could disqualify you at Wimbledon
with one word - "professional".

Only for one season in the Catskills,
I was broke!

I know the details.

- I've regretted it ever since.
- Come, come, you didn't rob a bank.

But I am ineligible for Wimbledon.
Sport's the only thing I do well.

Just for once, before I quit,
I'd like to succeed at something.

I think I can win at Wimbledon.
I'd like the chance.

You'd like a chance at Janet's money
too, wouldn't you?

I'm sorry,
I shouldn't have done that.

Keep your hands to yourself,
you muscle-bound oaf!

You'll be sorry.

What's Janet going to do
when she finds out?

Think she'll keep you like Lucy
keeps Herb, like a tame butler?

Forgive me Astron,
do you mind if I talk?

Please.

- Lucy thinks a great deal of you.
- And you do not approve.

I neither approve nor disapprove.

- You have an open mind.
- I try.

Are you really thinking
I am capable of robbing Lucy?

You tell me.

I am poor, she is rich.

She is worshipping materialism,
I despise it.

But we have one
very important thing in common.

We are both trying to learn
how we can best fit into the world.

- The world as it is now.
- It's a hard lesson.

But the only truly worthwhile one.

Do you think Floyd Vosper
will ever learn it?

He is not living long enough.

You mean he'll be struck down
by the Arrow of God?

Sometimes, Mr Templar, God is placing
his arrow in the hands of a man.

I think I'm for a swim.

- Did you talk to Astron?
- A little.

- What do you think of him?
- ls Vosper asleep?

_ I'm trying-
_ Very.

My dear Lucy, your wit is almost
as sharp as your figure.

- Why don't I throw him in the pool?
- I don't want a scene.

He's insulted everybody in the house.

Yes, but he is our guest.
I'm going to look for Herbert.

Be sure to leave no stone unturned.

I thought as puns go,
that was rather neat, didn't you?

Isn't Lucy going through enough
without you throwing it in her face?

Poor Lucy. She's so dumb, she could
pass for a ventriloquist's dummy.

One of these days you'll get
what's coming to you.

Oh, please, two resident prophets
in the house is more than enough.

While you're up,
I'll have another brandy.

Don't hold your breath.

Vosper, Gresson -
what does it all add up to?

I love YOU - not Lucy's money

or Gresson's promises
to make you a tycoon.

You talk like a child. How long would
we last in a one-room apartment?

At least we'd have our self respect.

Oh! Love on a shoestring(!) You don't
know what you're talking about.

Poverty isn't ennobling, you know.

It's the smell of cabbage water
and the despair of peeling wallpaper.

- I'm not afraid.
- Maybe you're not, but I am.

I want a simple answer
to a simple question.

When are you going to ask Lucy
for a divorce?

- Well, if the deal...
- Never mind the ifs!

- But, Pauline, I can't...
- Always ifs and buts.

To me that spells out
being strung along.

So if you don't mind,
I'll leave at the end of the month.

All right, I'll go
and have a talk with Lucy now.

- Lucy, I want to talk to you.
- Darling, I've been looking for you.

Floyd Vosper's being simply hideous.
I want you to ask him to leave.

Never mind him. I've something much
more serious to talk to you about.

In private.

- About Pauline?
- Lucy, please!

Not here.

Oh, I'll talk to you later.

(Sighs)

Pauline.

How serious is this,
between you and my husband?

- Let's not have a scene.
- The truth. There'll be no scene.

Lie, and I'll tear your hair out.

I love him.

Unfortunately, I do too.

- Lucy, he wants a divorce.
- He'll never get it.

What can you gain
by holding him against his will?

Pauline, I love him very much.

He's getting older.

Some day, when he realises how much
I care for him, he'll reciprocate.

Astron taught me that.
Love creates love.

That's why I want you to go now.

- If I go, he'll come with me.
- You mustn't let him.

Oh, Pauline, please. You're young
and beautiful and I'm not.

If you leave now,
I'll give you $5,000.

NO, Lucy!

10,000, if you go right now...
tonight!

That won't be necessary, Lucy.
I'll leave for nothing.

Pauline!

Pauline!

Pauline!

That was the
leave-my-husband-alone bit.

You put the most unpleasant
interpretation on everything.

I give out facts, others interpret.

Facts or cheap insinuations?

You're sick enough to be dead.

But instead you go on living
and infecting everyone else.

- Are you defending these people?
- They're unhappy and afraid.

My dear man, what absolute drivel.

Astron is a money-grabbing fake,

Herb WexalUs a weakling
and a kept man,

and Janet is a love-sick sap
chasing a muscle-bound jerk.

And Lucy... Hah!

Lucy has a mother complex
and the instincts of a killer shark,

as any psychiatrist will tell you.

Why don't you turn it off, Vesper?

You've got the original
garbage-can mind.

Expose the crooks and gangsters
all you want,

but leave the people
in this house alone.

They're hurting nobody
but themselves.

It's the little frauds
that spread the corruption.

The fake promoters,
their small-town grafters -

the adulterers and gigolos
we have down here.

I expose the rotting face behind
the smug mask of respectability.

- With gossip.
- No, with facts.

I've got a file card
on everybody in this house.

- Why?
- Because it's my business.

Let me remind you,
I've never been sued for libel.

Get your fingers out of me
and keep them crossed.

I don't have to cross anything,
the truth is a solid defence.

What's more, a libel suit
would spread your muck

across the front page
of every newspaper in the country.

That's not my affair.
You know, quite suddenly, I'm bored.

So am I...

and nauseated.

Maybe it'll settle your stomach
if I go lie on the beach.

I wonder if I'll come across dear,
feeble Herb

comforting Miss Stone
amongst the sand dunes.

(Simon) Thank you.

- John, please.
- Oh, I'm sorry, Janet.

I'm late for martinis
as usual, but...

Hey, what is this? Grant's tomb?

We're all reflecting
on the beauty of life in Nassau.

(Laughfi)

Hey, ah...where's Miss Stone?

I've... I've no idea.

- A very pretty girl, that.
- Very.

Hey, ah...did Vosper read
the brochure?

He's got it, whether he's read it
or not, I don't know.

- Gresson, which clan?
- Huh?

- The tartan.
- Oh!

I don't know. I had a Chinese tailor
make it for me in San Francisco.

Dinner is sewed, Mrs Wexall.

Thank you, Maria.

Where's dear, loveable Floyd?

He wasn't in his room just now.

- I mean, his door was open.
- Do we really need him?

Speaking personally...no!

The last time I saw him,
he was planning a nap on the beach.

Simon, be a darling
and go and look for him, will you?

It'd be my pleasure.

- Pauline, what are you doing here?
- Thinking.

I looked for you this afternoon.

I went for a walk, a long one.

- Where are you off to?
- Lucy's sent me to find Vosper.

He was asleep on the beach
when I came in.

Mind if I come? I don't much feel
like facing people tonight.

My pleasure.

Oh, over there.

- Vosper!
- He's still asleep.

No wonder, he was supping brandy
all afternoon.

- OK, doc, it's all yours.
- Thanks.

- You're welcome.
- Get him in the ambulance.

Dr Rahn, Major Fanshire
wants to know the time of death.

Between six and seven, I'd say.

(Ian you be more accurate?

My report states 6:30.
It isn't accurate, but it's average.

Whether Major Fanshire will figure
that out, I don't know.

Maybe the autopsy
will be more specific, sir.

Three stripes and you're already
an expert in forensic medicine(!)

An autopsy determines
the cause of death.

That, as you saw,
was sticking out front and back.

- Are you sure about that?
- Yes, sir.

That's all right, carry on.

Hmm.

All right.

As you all know,
Mr Vosper was found on the beach

with an arrow through his chest.

Since suicide with a bow and arrow
is out of the question,

we must conclude Mr Vosper
was murdered.

The time of death,
as accurately as we can ascertain,

was approximately half past six.

I would like to know
where each of you was at that time.

Mr Templar, would you care to start?

- I was in the garden, Major.
- Miss Stone?

I went for a walk. I was on the beach
about a mile beyond the point.

And, um...Astron?

I was working -
in my mind, you understand.

Geographically, I was in my room.

M rs Wexa ll?

I was dressing...in the bedroom.

Mr Gresson?

I was in my room,
getting some figures...

We'll omit the motivations.
Mr Wexall?

- I was on the roof.
- The roof?!

Yes. I was looking for Miss Stone
with binoculars.

I knew she'd gone for a walk and I
wanted to know in which direction.

- Miss Blaise?
- I was taking a bath.

And finally, Mr Herrick?

I was in the library, reading.

- Anybody with you?
- No.

Hmm. All of you, then, were alone.

The fact that not one alibi can be
confirmed makes things difficult.

(Knocking)

Come in.

The staff are much more cooperative.

It'd appear that since five, not one
has been out of the other's sight.

You must have a very large kitchen,
Mrs Wexall.

Let me approach it this way.

Did any of you have any specific
reason for wanting Mr Vosper dead?

- I'll answer that.
- Yes, Mr Templar.

We all did. Every single one
of us despised him.

- Would you care to elaborate?
- Why not?

Floyd Vosper was one of the most
unpleasant characters I ever met.

He made a speciality
of needling everyone

with unfortunate items
from their past.

Including you?

For the moment we will leave
the question of motive and abeyance

and look into the problem
of physical possibility.

To drive an arrow through a man's
chest requires extraordinary strength

and an extremely powerful bow.

Mr Herrick, does this belong to you?

Yes, sir. But I had
nothing to do with this.

- Tell him, john.
- Tell me what?

I'm sorry to have to say this...

but he's the only one
strong enough to use that, Major.

I can imagine.

Anything egg;?

All right, I'll tell him.

I'm...

I'm entered for the men's singles
at Wimbledon this year.

Actually, I'm ineligible.

I played professional tennis
for one season in America.

- Vosper knew this?
- Yes.

He threatened to expose me
in his column.

But I didn't kill him, Major.
I swear it!

But his body was found with one
of your arrows through his chest.

(Simon) Major.

I hate to tamper with justice and
I certainly don't want to interfere.

However, I think I can help.

Please do.

Herrick's bow never fired that arrow.

(Majw) How do you know?

If you bring the bow and arrow
outside I'll prove it.

All right.

You will all remain here, please.

Major, this is a terribly
clumsy weapon.

Remember the arrow was absolutely
vertical in Vosper's chest.

Now, to shoot an arrow into a man's
chest, lying on his back...

the bow would have to be held
at this angle.

May.
?

Even Harry couldn't
have got enough leverage

to drive an arrow
into a man's chest at that angle.

Suppose Vesper had been standing up'?

When a man's hit by an arrow
travelling at 80 miles an hour

he doesn't lie down and go to sleep,

he keels over
as though he'd been poleaxed.

You're absolutely right.

I'm satisfied that your bow was not
the murder weapon, Mr Herrick.

Impossible!

The arrow wasn't fired
from Mr Herrick's bow.

- It was an accident?
- The Arrow of God.

I'm sorry, Astron, this is nothing
more nor less than a sordid murder.

Any suggestion of divine intervention
is ridiculous and in bad taste.

How do you explain that?
Did he fall on it, or something?

(Janet) He was pretty drunk
this afternoon.

Pretty drunk? He was stinking.
Nearly a whole bottle of brandy.

- Major, may I ask a question?
- Go ahead.

Does anyone in this room have a gun?

I have a revolver.

Could we see it, please?

- Of course, it's in the trophy room.
- I'll get it.

Janet, would you take
a handkerchief to handle it?

Don't get your fingerprints
on the gun.

Mr Templar, I don't quite follow.

I only asked if anyone had a gun.
I'd like to see it before I explain.

You know I have a gun, Fanshire,
you gave me the permit for it.

I don't see the point of all this.

Neither do I.

Give it to him.

Thank you.

Colt .38 special.

Fully loaded. Fired recently.

- Herbert, I'm so very sorry.
- So am I.

Could we have it checked for prints?

Why, what's the point?

If you'll step outside, I'll try
and fit the last piece in the puzzle.

Sergeant.

Check it for prints.

Handle it carefully, Sergeant,
it's loaded.

Is there someone watching
the place where we found Vosper?

- Of course.
- Would you walk down with me?

Mr Templar,
I hope you're not wasting my time.

I presume it isn't against the law
to have a drink in my own house.

No, ma'am.

- John, would you mind?
- Sure.

- Martini?
- Mm-hm, fine.

- Mind if I mess this up a bit?
- Go ahead.

I was right.

A fired .38.

And it'll match WexalUs gun.

Well, if you've finished,
we'll go back to the house.

- Find anything, Sergeant?
- No, sir. There aren't any prints.

- Typical police blundering.
- I beg your pardon?

I fired that gun myself today...
twelve times.

I was shooting at the jellyfish
on the beach.

There were a lot
before the breeze came up.

I shot twelve, then reloaded the gun
and put it back in the trophy room.

Was anybody with you
on this little hunting expedition?

No...but my prints
should be all over that gun.

I don't care what anybody says, sir.
There aren't any prints.

- Of course there aren't.
- (Lucy) Why not?

That gun killed Vosper
and the killer wiped it clean.

We found this bullet in the sand
underneath where Vosper's body was.

I saw him myself
lying face down on the beach,

as much passed out as sleeping.

With the wind and the surf,

it was easy for the killer
to creep up and shoot him.

- But what about the arrow?
- That was an inspiration.

The killer turned Vosper's body over

then he took one of Herrick's arrows
and drove it through the wound.

This sewed two purposes.
It obliterated the original wound

and everybody accepted the arrow
as the cause of death.

Major, I hate to usurp
your authority.

- Please, go on.
- Let's get back to motive.

Vosper told me
he'd been building up a dossier

on the international set for years.

He checked Lucy's guest list
against his files

and made up cards on each of us.

Where did you get those?

I took them from his room
before you arrived.

Read the one on yourself first.

"Simon Templar, known as 'The Saint'.
Investigate thoroughly."

- That all?
- Oddly enough, yes.

Unfortunately, there's quite a bit
on the rest of you.

I don't like giving away
other peoples' secrets.

Go ahead, Mr Templar.

"Lucy Cartwright Wexall.

"Divorced Ralph Jennings Cartwright
in Mexico, 1952.

"Divorce invalid in New York State.

"Investigate possibility
of bigamy conviction

"under British law in Nassau."

Is that true, Lucy?

Yes, it's true.

I'm not sure whether I'm legally
married to Herbert in Nassau.

I was afraid to go to a local lawyer
in case it got back to him.

Did you know that Vosper knew this?

"Arthur Granville Gresson.

"Promoter. Long history
of selling phoney stocks.

"Arrested - fraud in California,
1948. Acquitted.

"Arrested - embezzlement, New York,
1953. Served seven years."

(Simon) How about it, Gresson?

Templar...

I admit I made mistakes
in my life, but I never...

A yes or no will do.

Yeah.

And you knew Vosper
had this information?

Yes.

"Janet Blaise.

"Check Photostats for copy
of register of Ritz Hotel, Paris

"for the week of June 6th, 1959."

Do you know what that means, Janet?

Yes. I offered Vosper money for it
in Palm Beach.

I'm sorry.

"Herbert Winfield Wexall.

"Living on wife's money. Formerly
a book-keeper for her father.

"Several affairs with women
in Miami and the French Riviera.

"Admitted US hospital
for drug addiction,

"Lexington, Kentucky, July, 1948.

"Discharged eight months later."

I don't want to discuss it.

You knew Vosper knew this?

I've never tried to hide it.

Except from me.

John Herrick we know about.

Professional tennis players
don't go to Wimbledon.

"Pauline Stone.

"Born to Mary Christine Cooper..."

You don't have to read it.
I'm illegitimate.

It's not my fault
and I have no shame or guilt.

Why should you?

"Astron, born India - deported
as an undesirable alien from the US,

"June 1962.

"Religious fake."

Mr Templar, it is not I
who am out of tune with the world.

The world is out of tune with me.

You may be right.

I apologise for dragging out
the skeletons.

I'm afraid all of us have things
in our past we'd rather keep hidden.

This malicious gossip
is Floyd Vosper's stock and trade.

The threat of a scandal
could easily be a motive for murder.

But add to the threat of exposure
a financial loss...

and the motive becomes intensified.

Are you following me, Gresson?

Why wouldn't I?

You shot Vesper.

You're crazy.

- He threatened you.
- No!

He was going to print the damning
fact that you sewed time, right?

- He didn't say so.
- Didn't he?

No.

Is this yours?

I don't know.

The initials AGG are yours,
aren't they?

Yes.

You wiped the gun with this,
didn't you?

No.

And a lab report won't show traces
of oil and gunpowder?

You don't know
what you're talking about.

Your room is the only one
with a clear view of the beach.

You saw Vesper. You went
to the trophy room, you took the gun.

You went down to the beach
and shot Floyd Vosper.

That's ridiculous.
Why would I want to kill him?

An oil expert went over
the whole of my plans

and they were 100% on the level.

But if Vosper had exposed
your police record,

no one would have invested a dime,
would they?

- Am I right, Wexall?
- Yes.

You did do it, didn't you, Gresson?

Yes, I did.

Don't anybody come near me.

I'm not going to prison again.

I'm gonna walk out of here and I'll
shoot anyone who tries to stop me!

Templar.

I've killed once and I'll kill again.
So just keep away from me.

Give me the gun, Gresson.

(Gun clicks)

Give me the gun, Gresson,
I unloaded it.

Jacob.

You won't be wanting these,
will you, Major?

Gresson's, perhaps.

The rest of you can keep your,
er...amateur status.

Thank you.

Are we free to go, Major?
I'd like to fly to London tonight.

That is a problem between you
and the airlines, Miss Stone.

- I'll drive you to the airport.
- I'll be packed in 20 minutes.

I suppose the lesson
to be learnt from this

is that nobody who isn't
absolutely clean

can fight a man like Vosper and win.

As he said himself, the truth is
a pretty solid defence against libel.