02x02 - Starring the Saint

[bunniefuu]

- Oh, terribly sorry.
- It's all right.

Getting back to London
from any other world capital

is like moving from storm to calm.

The officials are polite and efficient.

And the people, in typical British fashion,
are mannerly, quiet and orderly.

No one ever intrudes on your privacy.

- It's him!
- Mr Templar!

Quiet, please!

Quiet!

Thank you. Would someone
tell me what this is all about?

It was in this morning's paper. Listen.

"Byron Ufferlitz,
the prominent film producer,

"plans to make a picture based on the
life story of the famous Simon Templar."

(Typing)

- Is he in?
- Mr Ufferlitz is in conference.

- Have you an appointment?
- I don't need one.

- The legalities are your problem.
- Yes, Byron, but we're on shaky ground.

- Ufferlitz.
- It's him.

Mr Templar, I'm delighted to meet you.

- I'm not sure it's mutual.
- Ah. The newspaper story.

- Exactly.
- This is David Brown, my attorney.

You may need him. Mr Brown.

- A pleasure.
- Enjoy it while it lasts.

Sit down. Sit down. Sit down.

Mr Templar, I'm just as annoyed about
this premature press release as you are.

You know reporters, anything for a story.

- Apologies from the bottom of my heart.
- All right.

Mr Templar,
I have some wonderful plans.

First a personal publicity campaign.

- We realise you're a celebrity now.
- Publicity never hurt anybody.

And I have
the best press agent in London.

You're jumping the g*n.
We have a great deal to talk about.

Mr Templar, I've had this idea
for quite some time.

It was originally called
Salute To Adventure.

- I planned to make it with Orland Flane.
- He's a fine actor.

He's nothing. Many people have made
pictures about modern heroes,

but this one will be real.

You playing yourself
in The Simon Templar Story.

A composite of your real-life adventures.

David here has drawn up a contract.

- Look it over.
- Contract?

If this is the contract,
how long is the script?

The important clause is £ , a week,
plus % of gross.

(Brown) Very generous terms.

Why, gentlemen,
I may fool you and read this.

We'll make any concessions you want.

- What about the script?
- I've got two marvellous writers.

Vic Lazaroff, Bob Kendricks.

- They'll have a draft this week.
- (Buzzer)

I presume I have script approval.

Oh, completely.

Peggy, this is Simon Templar.
My secretary, Miss Warden.

- We've met.
- Introduce him to Vic and Bob.

- Certainly.
- Come back when you've talked.

- I have plans for tonight.
- This picture will make history.

- And money.
- I'll see you later.

I've got to hand it to you,
I didn't think it would work.

It always works. I know Templar's type.
He's an egomaniac.

Announce a picture about his life,
he beats a path to my door.

- You'd never have got to him otherwise.
- And he thinks I'm charming.

Congratulations.

What did you mean by telling him
we'd make any concession he wants?

You know exactly what I meant.

We give him nothing
and make it retroactive.

How long have you been
in the business?

- About six months.
- Before that?

- An office in Brisbane.
- Your home Australia?

Mm. I came to London
to seek fame and fortune.

- You ended up with Ufferlitz.
- What do you think of him?

- I think he's charming.
- Really?

I also think he's a fraud, a cheat
and a liar. Do you agree?

I'm his secretary, remember?

- In here, second floor, room .
- What are their names again?

Vic Lazaroff and Bob Kendricks.
Watch them.

- Why?
- They're professional jokers.

- Itching powder, exploding cigars.
- Did you say professional or amateur?

I think you can look after yourself.

- This is diabolically bad.
- No understatement, please.

- Who wrote this drivel?
- We did.

Oh. Bob, isn't there a way
we can get out of this?

We're under contract.
Ufferlitz owns us body and soul.

We could break into his house,
cut his trousers off at the knee.

Or his head off at the neck.

- It's him.
- In person.

- But no machine g*n.
- And no halo.

I'm making an inventory of this circus

and I see I've arrived
at the monkey house.

- Welcome to the club. I'm Vic Lazaroff.
- Mr Lazaroff.

- My fellow inmate Bob Kendricks.
- Nice meeting you.

- How's the epic going?
- Fair.

- We've got problems.
- Such as?

- Mostly Ufferlitz.
- Is that his real name?

- It's on his police record.
- Has he had trouble?

- Mostly women.
- It's the way he signs his cheques.

He's no more ignorant than
a lot of film producers without a record.

Have you boys got
the next ten pages ready?

- Thanks.
- This genius is directing your epic.

- Jack Groom, Simon Templar.
- Mr Groom.

- Mm. How tall are you?
- Six two.

Mm-hm.

Can you grow a moustache in ten days?

- Is there a market for them?
- You should have one.

Your hair should be slicked down.
You don't look like the Saint.

- I am the Saint.
- What difference does that make?

- I can see we'll be friends.
- No need.

Has Ufferlitz told Orland Flane
he's no longer in this picture?

- I've no idea.
- Flane is going to blow his top.

- I'm begging you.
- Don't. It's embarrassing.

But I need this picture. I'm broke.

Then you were foolish with your money.

Maybe. Maybe.
But the fact is I counted on this.

- And you promised me.
- I changed my mind.

- You can't do this to me.
- I've done it. Templar's accepted.

- Then I'll sue.
- Don't be stupid.

Look, there's such a thing as
a verbal contract and I've got witnesses.

Are you threatening me? Are you?

Byron, all I want is...

I don't care what you want.
You give me trouble, you'll be sorry.

- All I want is a fair deal.
- Let us get our positions straight.

I remember when you were a talent scout
for a less glamorous business in Rome.

There was a girl
who died rather suddenly.

Now, look, if you want to play dirty,
that's all right with me.

I can remember as far back
as you can, Byron.

I've got a few things on you
and believe me,

when I fix you, you'll stay fixed for good.

I'm sorry. I'll come back later.

No, no, Simon. Come in. Come in.

I'm through with my present business.

- That was Flane, wasn't it?
- Forget him. I have.

I don't like to do anybody out of a job.

Nonsense. I've made a date for you
tonight. It's for publicity purposes.

I've arranged a photographer.

You're dining at the Chateau Marmont
with April Quest.

- Who?
- I want gossip columnists to pick it up.

- The big romance of the year.
- Cooperation goes just so far.

She's not only beautiful,
she can read and write. Here she is.

- Simon, I want you to cooperate.
- What time?

- (Doorbell)
- Come in.

Hello, Mr Templar.

Ah. Hello.

I thought I'd never be ready. The studio
sent four dresses. I had to try them all.

- You nearly missed.
- Would you like a drink?

- Oh, let me. Martini?
- Yes, but dry.

- Of course.
- Lousy way to meet, isn't it?

- I don't know.
- Know anything about me?

Yes. Let's see. Your name is April Quest.

On my birth certificate it's Agnes Quist.

- What else?
- You were raised outside Edinburgh.

Your father's a Scottish laird. You could
play the bagpipes before you could walk.

No. Oh, I was born in Scotland all right,
but my father wasn't a Scottish laird.

- Let's at least start off honest.
- Oh.

Before we haul ourselves off to
the Chateau Marmont, tell me about you.

All right.

To us.

- Thanks, George.
- You're welcome, Mr Flane.

You know what else Ufferlitz said to me?
He said I was flabby.

That's ridiculous, Mr Flane.
You look great.

- Washed up, George. Finished.
- Don't say that.

The way men like Ufferlitz get important
in this business... Dirty, crooked...

Look where he is. George, so help me,
I'll get even with him.

Sure, Mr Flane. Excuse me.

- Good evening. What would you like?
- Two dry martinis.

Hold it, Miss Quest.

Swell. Thanks.

- Byron's arranged all sorts of surprises.
- Such as?

Uh-oh, Simon. Here comes trouble.

Well, our little bird certainly is
in fine feathers tonight.

Careful,
or this little bird will peck your eyes out.

You haven't seen anything yet. Wait till
she brings out the glued-on lashes.

- Watch it, Flane.
- April certainly does glitter, doesn't she?

If you like cheap flash.

And since the old contract
has now expired,

the matter of a guarantee
is up for negotiation.

I suggest we meet for an exploratory
discussion. Yours sincerely...

- (Buzzer)
- See who that is, will you?

- Hello, Peggy.
- Hello, Mr Groom.

- How is he?
- Mm.

Oh. Peggy,
what do you think he'd say if, erm...

- No. No, it doesn't matter.
- What is it?

- No, nothing. Nothing.
- But...

Sorry to interrupt. I'd like to talk to you.

We're finished.
Peggy, type that tomorrow morning.

I won't be at the studio until .
Thanks for working late.

- Take a taxi home on the company.
- Thank you. Good night.

What's your problem, Jack?

I had dinner with the president
of Liberty Productions.

Sid Mayo. How is he?

Oh, he's fine. Fine.

They want me to direct Yesterday And
Tomorrow. It's a million-pound budget.

Biggest picture they've ever made.

But you're under contract to me.

Oh, I know, but I just thought
maybe you'd let me buy myself out.

- Any price within reason.
- Jack, I hate to stand in a man's way.

But I just can't do without you.

That's nonsense and you know it.

- You're too modest.
- This is the opportunity of a lifetime.

You said that when I offered you
your present contract two years ago.

Yes, I know, but things change.

Contracts don't.

- I just can't turn this down.
- I'm afraid you'll have to.

Please. This means everything to me.

I'm sorry.

- Byron, do you sleep well?
- Why shouldn't I?

I just thought your conscience
might keep you awake.

- It doesn't.
- It should.

You use people ruthlessly and then
you throw them on the rubbish heap.

Like Orland Flane.
Do you realise what you've done to him?

- He's a broken man.
- He's a fool.

But he's human.
He's made money for you.

Orland Flane is a washed-up has-been.
I couldn't care less.

Do you care there isn't a single person
on this unit that doesn't hate you?

Not a bit. I pay for work, not affection.

And right now I'm too busy
for a lecture on ethics.

You signed a contract with me which
you were glad to get at the time.

Now you want out because there's
greener grass in another field. Too bad.

Byron, please.

For the last time, let me buy myself out.

In a word...no.

It looks as if I'll have
to put the pressure on.

I was hoping not to have to do this.

Do what?

Remember Trilby Andrews?

- Dumb little broad.
- The papers might want the full story.

- Are you trying to blackmail me?
- In a word, yes.

I never let myself be pushed around.
It's a matter of principle.

I'd blow the whole works,
my career, my life, the lot,

before I'd knuckle under
to that kind of pressure.

All I want from you, Mr Groom,
is the answer to a simple question.

Do you want to live...

or do you want to die?

- Mr Templar, this just came for you.
- Oh, thank you.

- A cabbie delivered it a moment ago.
- Thanks.

- What is it?
- It's from Byron Ufferlitz.

- He wants to see me at once.
- But it's half past ten.

He says it's urgent.

- Can't you come in for one drink?
- Byron wants me.

So do I.

It may be important.
Can I have a rain check?

- For how long?
- I'll be back in an hour.

I'll wait.

The door's open. Don't fall out.

(Rings doorbell)

Oh, Simon! Simon, I found him!
lfound him!

Come on, Peggy, take it easy.
Come and sit down.

Tell me what happened.

When I heard you, I thought
whoever had done it was coming back.

Start from the beginning.

He asked me to work late tonight.

I got here about : .

He hasn't been dead since : .

I left at nine when Jack Groom got here.

Groom was here tonight?

Yes. Byron told me to take a taxi home.

When I got home,
I realised I'd forgotten my dictation book.

- Is it still here?
- Yes.

- Is this it?
- Yes.

Well, go on.

Go on.

When I came in, the door was open.

And then I saw him.

- What time was this?
- Just now when I heard your car pull up.

Oh, Simon, I'm so frightened.

- Have you touched anything?
- No.

- I thought I was going to faint.
- (Car engine)

Come on. Get out of here.

Anybody home?

Sergeant, come quick!

Hey, a bloke's been shot.

- That was close.
- Why did we run? We've nothing to hide.

- Couldn't we have...
- Whoever shot him wants to blame me.

"Come to my house. Urgent."
But this isn't Byron's writing.

I know. You recognise it?

No.

It was very neatly planned.
The police arriving seconds after I did.

Did you notice the photograph
on his desk?

No, I was too frightened.

It was signed Trilby something.

- Mean anything?
- No.

How was Groom's manner
when he arrived? Was he relaxed?

Yes, I think so.

Peggy, the police will see your name
on the calendar pad on his desk.

They'll know you had an appointment.
They'll be at your flat in an hour.

Don't tell them you went back.

- But that's a lie.
- Don't tell them.

All right. If you say so.

Don't say anything about me.
I don't want any police interference.

Yes, OK. Right.

Yes.

The b*llet went through the cerebral
cortex. Emerged under the septal region.

- How about the time?
- I'd say between ten and .

Thanks.

Inspector,
the girl's name's Peggy Warden.

- His secretary. I've got the address.
- Burns.

- Have her picked up for questioning.
- Sir.

So somebody finally k*lled him.

Thanks. I gather you're not very upset.

Upset? It's the best news
I've had in years.

- Did you hate him?
- Along with thousands of others.

- Why?
- He was brutal. He hurt people.

- Including you.
- Look, I don't want to talk about it.

April, have you heard of a girl
named Trilby something?

- Trilby Andrews?
- You know her?

No. I met her once or twice.
She's an actress. Bit parts.

I haven't seen her for months.

- Why?
- Her photograph was on Byron's desk.

Do you know who that girl is,
Miss Warden?

No, I don't.

Apart from Mr Groom, did Mr Ufferlitz
have any other callers?

- No.
- No phone calls?

- He telephoned the Chateau Marmont.
- About what?

- He wanted to arrange photographs.
- Of whom?

You may have read that Mr Ufferlitz was
making a film about Simon Templar.

Oh, yes.

Mr Templar and April Quest
were at the restaurant.

Mr Ufferlitz wanted
a photograph of them.

Did Mr Ufferlitz have any enemies?

I only knew him in business hours.
I knew little about his private life.

- Mr Groom, sir.
- (Teal) That'll be all, Miss Warden.

- We'll drive you home.
- Peggy, what's all this about?

I'll answer that.
My name is Chief Inspector Teal.

- I want to ask you a few questions.
- What about?

Byron Ufferlitz. He's dead.

Could Jack Groom
have written that note?

No. No motive. And we can eliminate
Kendricks and Lazaroff.

I hardly knew them.
So who do we have left?

Who do we have that hated
Ufferlitz enough to k*ll him

and hated me enough
to see me take the rap?

- Orland Flane.
- Right.

Ufferlitz blasted him out of a job
and then hired me in his place.

And tonight you hit him.

And he knew where I was.

Simon, I know Orland's mixed up,
but I can't...

Try this. Flane leaves the Chateau
Marmont, goes to Ufferlitz's house,

kills him and gets a cab driver
to bring me this note.

And then calls the police.

Well, what do you think?

Simon, I just don't know.

- We quarrelled. I've admitted that.
- Quarrelled violently?

- Yes, but I didn't k*ll him.
- It was entirely verbal?

- Yes.
- Nothing physical?

- No.
- What was it about?

It was about my contract.

I'm waiting, Mr Groom.

Liberty Productions wanted me
to direct a picture.

I was contracted to Byron.
I wanted to buy myself out.

The new contract involved more money?

- Yes.
- How much more?

- A lot.
- Mr Groom, I want details.

Byron paid me , a picture.
Liberty were offering me , .

- A large increase.
- Yes.

What is the status of your contract
now Ufferlitz is dead?

- Don't know.
- Was it a personal contract?

I don't know. I'd have
to consult my lawyers about that.

You might have to consult them anyway.

Inspector, I did not k*ll Byron Ufferlitz.

My cab driver will tell you
he was alive when I left.

Mr Groom, believe me,
we'll investigate your alibi carefully.

I'm afraid I'll have
to hold you for questioning.

If you find this cab driver,
he'll swear that.

- We'll find him. Don't worry.
- A lot of people hated Byron Ufferlitz.

- Why don't you talk to them?
- I intend to.

- Burns, take him down the station.
- Yes, sir. This way, please, sir.

- What do you think?
- Hard to say.

April Quest, have you got her address?

- Yes, sir. Want her brought in?
- I think not.

When Simon Templar's
even remotely connected

with a case of mine, it means one thing.

- Trouble.
- I'll let you drive me to Miss Quest's flat.

Mr Templar might appreciate
my saying good night.

(r Soft piano music)

The point is how could
Flane have been sure I'd go?

I could have ignored the note
and called Ufferlitz instead.

- Orland's mind wouldn't work that way.
- Why not?

Well, he'd figure that for £ , a week,

you'd jump through hoops
if Byron told you to.

(Doorbell)

- It's half past one.
- I'll go.

Well, the bloodhound of the Yard.

- Hello, Templar.
- Claude.

April, may I introduce an old friend.

Inspector Claude Eustace Teal
of Scotland Yard.

- How do you do?
- Isn't it past your bedtime?

I won't sleep without knowing
what you did this evening.

Has somebody blown up
the Bank of England?

Where were you tonight?

I had dinner at the Chateau Marmont
with Miss Quest.

- Has he been with you all evening?
- Men are usually with me all evening.

- He brought you home?
- They do that too.

And you've been here ever since?

- Correct. Why all the questions?
- Just interested.

- I'm deeply touched.
- I'm sure you are.

- Well, I'll see you around.
- Inspector, would you like a drink?

No thanks.

- Good night, Templar.
- Good night. Sleep well.

I will...now.

I was pretty good, wasn't I?

You were great. You know, for a round
man, Claude has a very long nose.

Now, what were we talking about?

- April Quest. What a ridiculous name.
- Do you believe her, sir?

I never believe anything about Templar
until I prove it three times.

Even then I'm willing to change my mind.

Before we call it a night,
we'll drop by the Chateau Marmont.

Right, sir.

- Good night, sir, madam.
- Good night.

- Sorry, we're closed.
- I'm from Scotland Yard.

- Is the manager here?
- He's gone home.

- Were you here all evening?
- Yes.

- Did Simon Templar dine here tonight?
- Yes.

- Who with?
- Miss Quest.

- When did they leave?
- : .

- You're very precise.
- That's because of the note.

- Note? What note?
- A note came for Mr Templar.

Well, I looked at the clock.

- What was in it? Do you know?
- Well, sir, I did glance at it.

- And?
- It was from Byron Ufferlitz.

Oh? What did it say?

Mr Templar was to go to Mr Ufferlitz's
house right away.

- It said urgent.
- Oh.

Mr Templar is going to have
a lot of explaining to do.

(Knock at door)

- Hello, Peggy.
- Hello, Simon.

- How are you feeling?
- All right. I didn't sleep well. Sit down.

Teal give you a rough time?

No. Actually, he was quite nice.

I said what you told me to.
I didn't involve you.

- I didn't say I'd been back to Byron's.
- Good girl.

I don't like it. Once you start lying
to the police, anything can happen.

- Suppose Teal asks...
- Peggy, relax.

All right.

- By the way, Dave Brown rang.
- Who? Oh, the lawyer.

He wants everybody
under personal contract to Byron

to be at the office at three o'clock.

All the suspects under one roof.

Except one.
The police are holding Jack Groom.

He didn't do it, Simon. He couldn't have.

(Teal) This is the man
you drove to Ufferlitz's house?

- Yeah, I'm positive.
- Can you remember what time?

- It was about five to nine.
- And he asked you to wait?

- That's right. I did.
- How long?

- Oh, about minutes.
- And then?

This gentleman came out with
the other fella, the one in the morgue.

- Ufferlitz.
- That's right. They were arguing.

The other gentleman told Mr Groom here
to go to blazes and do as he was told.

- Did you see both men clearly?
- Yeah.

- Then what?
- He asked me to take him to Kensington.

(Teal) All right.
Thank you. You can go now.

- Right you are.
- Thank you, driver.

You're welcome. Any time.

I'm sorry you were inconvenienced.

Are you satisfied
that my alibi stands up?

Yes. You're free to go now.

Thank you.

Why don't you just leave it to the police?

Because Byron was m*rder*d with
the intention of having me accused.

But you haven't been accused. Not yet.

- Congratulations, Templar.
- We knew you could do it.

- Vic, please.
- A masterful way of getting rid of him.

- You two are next.
- Peggy, don't look so disapproving.

- Such bad taste.
- Maybe, but Byron was a stinker.

Don't expect any tears from me.
Come, friend.

- They're impossible.
- But truthful.

I get tired
of their slapstick humour all the time.

We're ready, Mr Templar. Can you come,
Miss Warden, in case I have some notes?

I won't comment on
personal aspects of this tragedy.

You're all anxious how Byron's death
will affect you. I can tell you.

Your contracts were all personal ones.
Normally they'd revert to his heirs.

I want to know who's inherited April.

- Could we dispense with the humour?
- Sorry.

Mr Ufferlitz has no heirs,
so legally you are all free agents,

subject to confirmation
when Byron's will is probated.

Your salaries will be paid up to
and including yesterday.

On which date, the estate holds that all
obligations were mutually terminated.

The only difficulty
arises with Mr Templar.

Who is neither here nor there.

You and Byron hadn't actually
signed a contract,

so as his executor I'm offering you
£ , , a week's salary in full settlement.

- Is that satisfactory?
- I'd say it was fair enough.

Very well. It may be a week
before I can get your cheques out

but I'll take care of it as soon as I can.

I think that's all
unless there are any questions.

- I have a question.
- Yes, Mr Templar.

Who knows about Trilby Andrews?

You leave Trilby's name out of this!
She's suffered enough.

You know, it's just possible
that I may fulfil a lifetime ambition.

- Arresting Templar?
- I'm reasonably optimistic.

- I hope you're right.
- Sergeant, I hope so too.

He'll have an explanation,
but with Groom no longer a suspect,

it'll have to be good, very good.

I don't get it. Why won't
anybody talk about Trilby Andrews?

I don't know.

- She's the key to the mystery.
- In what way?

I'm not sure, but there's a connection.

Why was her photograph
on Byron's desk when he was m*rder*d?

And why did Groom storm out
of the room at the mention of her name?

- Claude Eustace, how are you?
- I've never felt better in my life.

I'm glad to hear that. Any reason?

The possibility of you being convicted
for the m*rder of Byron Ufferlitz.

Either you're joking
or you've flipped your wig.

- You had a note from him last night.
- I did?

You did. It was delivered to the Chateau
Marmont restaurant at : .

- It told you to go to his house at once.
- You have been busy.

At : , Ufferlitz put through
a call to the police.

Told them someone was prowling
in the grounds. The police came.

- Did you say Ufferlitz called?
- Yes.

- Did you take the call?
- Of course not.

You can't be sure it was him.
Someone could have said they were him.

Don't confuse the issue.
You went to the house.

- Yes, I did.
- Then why didn't you admit it?

- Inspector, Mr Templar...
- Here's the note.

"Come to my house at once.
Urgent. Byron."

- Naturally I went.
- When did you write this?

I knew you'd ask that. I arrived
at Ufferlitz's house and he was dead.

- The police came. I was being framed.
- It's true.

- How do you know?
- She believes in me.

- Well, I don't.
- Naturally.

If you've nothing to hide, why lie?
Why say you were with April Quest?

You wouldn't have believed me.
Besides, I needed time to think.

- Have you?
- Why don't you talk to Orland Flane?

He threatened Ufferlitz yesterday.

He hates me because he felt
I was taking a job away from him.

He's tough enough to k*ll Ufferlitz

and vicious enough to frame me for it.

- Well...
- Arrest me and the k*ller will get away.

- Simon, don't you think...
- Give me hours.

- I'll hand you the m*rder*r on a plate.
- You can have until midnight.

Simon, I wish you'd let me tell him.

Peggy, when I need you
to clear me, I'll ask.

- Well...
- Trust me, will you?

- I haven't much choice.
- Don't sound so desperate.

- Where are you going?
- To talk to Jack Groom.

I'll pick you up at seven for dinner.

- I want to talk to you.
- We've nothing to talk about.

- I think we have.
- You're wrong.

- Can we go someplace private to talk?
- Why?

- You want to talk about Trilby.
- Yes.

Well, I'm sorry.

I just came within inches of being
arrested. You were held overnight.

Since we had nothing to do with
Byron's m*rder, can't we cooperate?

I'm not interested. I'm in the clear.
I couldn't care less what happens to you.

Jack, what are you running away from?

Nothing.

- You are. Is it Trilby Andrews?
- Yes.

- Who is she?
- She isn't. Not any more. She's dead.

Oh?

She had everything, you know.
Beauty, talent, the lot.

- And you were in love with her?
- We were going to be married.

- What happened?
- I introduced her to Byron.

- Then?
- The usual thing happened.

Beautiful beginner meets producer.
He made promises. Before I knew it...

- He took her away from you.
- I was so jealous.

We had a row. She refused to see me,
even to talk to me.

Then one night
she...took four dozen sleeping tablets.

- What for?
- Who knows?

Loneliness, desperation,
defeat, the usual reasons...

I wasn't there to find out. I handed her
over to Ufferlitz and let him destroy her.

- Did you ever talk to him about her?
- Oh, yes. Last night.

- And?
- He called her a dumb little broad.

Then he laughed.
He thought it was a big joke.

- And now he's dead.
- Yes. The joke backfired, didn't it?

(f Whistles)

I'm in the mood for a big drink.

I'm in the mood to join you.

- Oh, he must have smelled the liquor.
- Moving clay?

The uncrowned kings of the film world
are back on the throne again.

- Meaning?
- Jack's taking us to Liberty Productions.

We're writing Yesterday And Tomorrow
for him.

- Is that definite?
- The contract will be signed tomorrow.

- If we can still hold a pen.
- I know you are a great comedy team

but trying to hang the m*rder
on me was a bit way out.

You wrote the note, called the police,

said something about a prowler
and intended I be caught with his body.

- No, that's not true.
- We'd better tell him, Vic.

- It all started out to be a gag.
- I'm ready to laugh.

Because of the script.
The heavies try to get you arrested.

- We wrote the note.
- And called the cops.

I'm not laughing.

We thought if the star is arrested for
prowling round the producer's house...

- There'd have been good publicity.
- It would have been cleared up.

- You boys are a riot.
- Templar, on my word of honour.

We had no idea Ufferlitz would be dead.
It was a coincidence.

We always do this sort of thing.

We sent a postcard
to the Prime Minister from Spain.

"Darling, I still love you. Beulah."

We had a mental picture of the PM
trying to explain it to the wife.

And just how far
would this joke of ours have gone?

We wouldn't let anything happen to you.

We didn't say anything
when it went sour because...

- We were ashamed.
- Aw.

There's no real harm done. ls there?

No. Well, gentlemen,

never let it be said that Simon Templar
doesn't have a sense of humour.

He hasn't, you know.

Ufferlitz had offered Templar £ , a
week. Why would he k*ll his meal ticket?

- It doesn't make sense.
- (Telephone)

Inspector Teal.

Thanks. They've located Orland Flane.
The Chateau Marmont.

- Good evening, Mr Templar.
- What'll you have?

- Scotch and soda.
- Make it two.

- Yes, sir.
- I see Orland Flane over there.

- Mm. Excuse me a moment.
- Simon, don't fight with him, please.

I have no intention
of fighting with anyone.

Mind if I talk?

Well, the famous Simon Templar.

- Flane, I'd like...
- Going to be a great star, huh?

- Name up in lights.
- Not any more.

It serves you right.
You took the part away from me.

The picture's not being made.
It doesn't matter.

You bet it matters.

That was a dirty trick.

We'd better get a few things straight.

You were out before Byron discussed
any deal with me and you know it..

Yeah.

I guess you're right.
Look, I want to apologise for last night.

- I didn't mean to insult poor April.
- It's OK.

- No hard feelings?
- None.

Shake.

- You're all right.
- Thanks.

Would you tell me
what you know about Trilby Andrews?

Trilby?

She was a cute kid. Nice too.

Kind of unspoilt. Really beautiful.
I met her on location doing The Outback.

- I took her out a few...
- I want to ask you a few questions.

There have been a few developments.

- I'm talking to Mr Flane.
- This is Inspector Teal.

- I'll introduce myself.
- What is this?

I want to ask you
about the m*rder of Ufferlitz. Barman!

- If you just listen...
- Mind your own business.

- Yes?
- I'm Inspector Teal.

- Where can I talk to this man privately?
- The manager's office, through there.

- Wait a minute.
- Go on!

And you keep out of this, Templar.

What's going on?

Claude Eustace is about to make
another one of his famous mistakes.

- You threatened Ufferlitz.
- I didn't k*ll him.

- You tried to frame Templar for m*rder.
- That's not true.

Didn't Ufferlitz fire you?
Didn't Templar hit you?

- Yes, but I deserved it.
- But you were burning inside.

You k*lled Ufferlitz, sent that note
to Templar so he'd take the blame.

What is this?
Are you and Templar trying to frame me?

- I have to take you to headquarters.
- No, you don't.

(Car horn blares)

I'll see you at your place.

(Police bell)

- You're wrong.
- I'm not.

- Flane didn't k*ll Ufferlitz.
- Why's he running?

- Poor devil.
- Yes, Claude.

That clears the Ufferlitz m*rder case.

Congratulations, Claude.
You've done it again.

So the police are satisfied
Flane k*lled Ufferlitz?

- Yes.
- Well, I'm glad that's over.

It's not all over, is it, Peggy?
You k*lled him.

The motive, Trilby Andrews.

Andrews and Warden, they're almost
an anagram and I nearly missed it.

Then there was
the photograph on Byron's desk.

I thought the face was familiar
and it had to be someone.

Then I realised it was like someone.

Like you.

Who was it, Peggy?

My sister. How did you find out?

The likeness in the photograph.

Then I remembered Flane
had told me he had met Trilby

while he was making
The Outback in Australia.

You said you came from Australia.

- Want to tell me the rest?
- Trilby was my younger sister.

She was beautiful. She met Orland Flane
when he was filming in Australia

and got bitten by the movie bug.

She decided to come to London.

She saved her money
and eventually came.

She wrote to me regularly
and then her letters stopped.

She was dead.

I couldn't believe it.

I flew over from Australia, determined
to find out what happened.

I got a job in Byron's office.

Then I found out he was responsible.

- For what?
- She was expecting a child. His child.

I'm sorry. And last night?

I left and I went back.

I pretended I liked him.

I poured him some drinks.
He said I reminded him of someone.

I asked him if it was
the girl in the photograph.

I got him talking about her. He admitted
everything and then he laughed.

I saw the g*n in the drawer of the desk.

And I did it.

- And now what?
- I don't know.

Peggy, the police think
they have their m*rder*r.

Orland Flane, and he's dead,
so the case is closed.

Or is it?

Inspector Teal, please.