Shadows on the Stairs (1941)

[bunniefuu]

Is anything wrong, dear?

No... No, nothing.

I thought I had heard something,

but it was just the wind.

- Did you hear a scream?

- Sounded like it came from over there.

What's the matter?

What's the matter?

When that great big man came, I...

I screamed.

You must have had a nightmare.

You go back to sleep, now, Miss Snell.

You'll be all right.

Yes.

And so I ran through the forest just as fast

as my poor little feet could carry me.

But he was such a great strong man

and ran so swiftly...

...that I just knew that I must

be overtaken soon.

At last I felt him right behind me,

his breath upon my neck, then his

arms encompassed me and...

Well... I screamed.

I'm so very, very sorry to have

disturbed you all.

You didn't disturb me, I'm sure.

I slept like a top all night.

I'm so glad. How about you, Mr. Singh?

I'm afraid I'm very hard

to awake, mademoiselle.

In my country one is taught from childhood

how to compose oneself completely.

Both the mind and the body.

- And you, Mr. Armitage?

- Hm?

Oh... No, not at all.

I fell asleep working out

a chess problem.

McKinney's number 40.

No, I slept very soundly,

thank you, really.

I saw in the Times last evening...

...that McKinney's going to give

a lecture at Holms tonight.

Dr. McKinney, the American?

Why, there's no other brain

in the world like his.

I've been wanting to hear

him all my life.

- Then why don't you go?

- Oh, may I, really?

Why, that's splendid!

I might stay the night with old Jerry

Stoddard, too. He lives at Holms.

- Yes, of course.

- Well, then I shall.

I'll check the trains and I'll telegraph

Jerry the moment we've finished.

McKinney's number 40.

I'll ask him to explain it himself.

Well, if you'll excuse me,

I must get to work.

When the post comes, will you bring

my mail to my room, Lucy?

Yes, sir, right away.

Still waiting for word about your play?

Yes. I'm doing another one

in the meantime.

Ah, that's the spirit. Our stage

of today needs new plays, too.

Why, even the pantomime has gone to pots

since Mrs. Armitage left it.

- Now, Mr. Reynolds.

- Oh, I mean it.

Why, I remember seeing Sinbad, the Sailor

in Bristol twenty years ago.

- And the principal boy's legs...

- Oh, please, Mr. Reynolds.

Did you ever do any straight parts,

Mrs. Armitage?

Oh, no, just pantomime and musicals.

That's where Mr. Armitage and I met,

when we were playing Little Red Riding Hood.

Oh, I had no idea you'd been

an actor, Mr. Armitage.

Rather a poor one, I'm afraid,

but, um...

I'd bet I did play once

in Charlie's Aunt.

One of the greatest successes

of all time.

- What part?

- Oh, the aunt, the aunt.

Sylvia, dear, you'd better see what groceries

are needed over the weekend.

Mr. Bromilow will never finish his play

unless you leave him alone.

Pardon me.

And how are things with you,

Mr. Reynolds?

Oh, fairish, I should say.

Only, collections are slow,

and I don't like being kept waiting.

What on earth is the matter?

Nothing, ma'am.

Do you call breaking all those

dishes nothing?

- It wasn't my fault.

- Well, then whose fault was it, may I ask?

Well, has the cat got your tongue?

- I just said it wasn't my fault.

- I don't care whose fault it was.

- It'll come out of your wages!

- No, you can't do that!

It's all I got coming.

It'll be all you ever have coming in this

house. I'm tired of your insolence.

Your month's up tomorrow

and out you go!

Was your remark about being

kept waiting meant for me?

What I meant was you've got to get...

I thought I would never find my book.

It was right under my pillow all the time.

- Have you read it?

- I'm afraid not.

I don't get much time for light reading.

Oh, but this is so deep and fine.

Let me read you just one passage.

Here it is, at the finish,

when he who has known love

but lost it, renounces the world.

"This then, Brother Fran?ois, is dearest."

"Here is peace.

Here, through the window of my cell

comes only the skylark's song...

...to rob my soul of its tranquility."

"Ah, this is peace indeed.

Peace everlasting."

- Exquisite, isn't it?

- Yes, yes, very pretty.

It's sublime.

I have to return it now,

but I'll tell the librarian

to hold it for you.

Very kind of you, I'm sure.

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

- What's the matter?

- I've got to talk to you, Joe, I've got to.

- What is it, Stella, what's the trouble?

- It's my nerves, Joe,

I'm half crazy because I never know

what's going to happen next.

- Well, if that's all.

- All?

It's enough to drive a person mad.

Oh, why won't you tell me what it's about?

Stella, don't start that again.

Surely you know by now that I'm not

going to run into any danger.

How do I know? I don't even know

what happened last night.

Last night?

It was almost dawn when

you came in and...

- You certainly are nervous.

- I can't help it.

I'm sure I'm being spied on. I feel

I'm being followed by unseen eyes.

- Whose eyes?

- I don't know that either.

Oh, Joe, I'm going to break

completely, I'm going...

Steady now, use your head.

Tell me, Stella, how long has it been

since we made this arrangement?

Oh, about ten years, I'd say.

It was you who suggested I should

buy this house in the first place.

Yes, I knew I was through on the stage,

and Tom hadn't any money.

Nevertheless, you turned to me

and I helped you.

All I asked was to have one room to use

whenever it was necessary for my business.

But you really cared for

me then, Joe.

I still care, but I don't think

you do anymore.

Of course I do. Anyway, things have

worked out all right, haven't they?

You've made a bit of money

and I've done fairly well myself.

But it's how we've done it,

that's what worries me.

There you go again.

You know what k*lled the cat.

Oh, it's not just curiosity.

It's fear, I tell you.

When I think that Sylvia's growing up,

I'm terrified she may find out.

I should say she's too busy

making a conquest...

...to bother much about anything else.

Oh, you mean young Mr. Bromilow?

He seems a nice enough chap,

but not very successful.

Hm... But he can still afford to take her to

the theater every Saturday night, can't he?

You mean the cinema.

And they usually get back

about eleven, I believe.

So she'll be out of the way by midnight.

Oh, I knew something was brewing.

I won't stand it, I tell you,

I won't permit it.

- You must, Stella, this is important.

- What is?

This... deal. It's something different,

something big.

And if I put this one over,

it's going to be my last.

Will you promise me that?

I'll give you my word,

if you'll help me.

How?

By seeing that Sylvia and

young Bromilow...

...get to their rooms as early

as possible tonight.

- How about Miss Snell?

- Oh, she's never up after ten o'clock.

- Tom?

- You heard him say.

He's going to that lecture

at Holms tonight.

Splendid. That accounts for everybody.

And you get to bed early yourself.

And sleep as soundly as a kitten, too.

You do trust old Joe, don't you?

- Oh, I try to.

- Give us a kiss.

- What is it, dear?

- I'm looking for Jerry Stoddard's address.

- I've got to send him a wire, you know.

- Well, your address book's upstairs.

- I'll get it for you.

- Is it?

Hm-hmm. What time does

your train leave?

Oh, in about an hour's time.

I ought to be leaving for the station.

So Mrs. Armitage was right.

- You were listening.

- Suppose I was.

I had good reason. I wanted to hear

what you had to say about me.

You flatter yourself.

Why should we discuss you?

- You mean she don't know?

- What on earth are you talking about?

About you and me.

If that's what you thought,

I'll ease your mind.

Mrs. Armitage knows nothing

whatever about you and me.

I thought that was why she

gave me the sack.

Anyway, she did.

So what are you going to do?

What can I do?

I'm only a boarder.

That's what you say.

I think different.

What are you hinting at,

you little fool?

Oh, I don't know. I wish I was dead.

Just imagine how you'd feel if you

were kicked out in the street...

...without even a shilling.

- Hm, unpleasant, I'd say.

- Unpleasant?

Is that all?

Well, let me tell you how I feel.

I'm fed up! I'm sick of being worked

to death and kicked around.

And I'm tired of broken promises too.

- I never promised you anything.

- Oh, yes you did!

Promises I never even asked

you to make.

- So now you've got to help me!

- Stop that row!

I've given you more than

you've deserved already.

But you can't let me down now.

- You don't dare.

- Are you threatening me?

No, I'm telling you.

Then I'll tell everyone else.

Then you'll go to jail for attempted

blackmail.

You've still got a few things

to learn, young lady.

Yes, I suppose I have.

There's something strange about you

and this whole house.

- What's that?

- There's something q*eer going on here.

Now I know you were listening.

- What did you hear?

- Nothing, honest!

I swear I didn't.

If I thought you'd heard,

I'd wring your neck.

I didn't, you talked too low.

Then let this be a warning to you.

Keep your mouth shut about me

and everybody else around here.

- Now get out!

- All right.

I'll get out. But I'll not forget

and neither will you.

Because I'm homeless and desperate now.

And all because of you and

that woman.

So whatever happens, you've only

got yourself to blame.

Get out!

What's the idea of sneaking up on

a man like a blasted leopard?

Why didn't you come up to my room?

I couldn't get away.

Mrs. Armitage kept me.

It was the housemaid I saw

coming out of here.

What if it was?

We've got more important things

to talk about anyway.

Last night, for instance.

I'm still not certain that is

more important.

What are you driving at?

You know our organization's rule to have no

concern with women while engaged in this work.

Don't be absurd. Lucy hasn't got

enough brains to spy.

She has ears and a tongue.

She won't be able to use either

of them here anymore.

Mrs. Armitage has given her the sack.

- Which is just as well.

- Exactly. Now, as to the box.

I can only say that it is in

a safe place temporarily.

That's all I wanted to know.

But it must be brought here tonight.

- How about the household?

- They'll be out of the way about midnight.

And now I'll explain the delay

to Mr. X.

Of course, but I wouldn't explain

to anyone else.

That sounds a bit nasty, Ram Singh.

If you think I tipped anybody,

you're mad.

If you did, it's you who are mad.

I would be. If I chucked away

everything this will mean to me.

Yet, there are always the enemy's

rewards and favors to be considered.

I've never even given them a thought.

Then you are wise.

For once I knew a man who did.

- Yes?

- Yes.

Then one day his wife received

a package.

Its contents so shocked her,

that she lost her mind...

...as well as her husband's.

Hm.

Well, I shan't worry about that

sort of package.

You just arrange for the other tonight.

Well, I'm on my way, Mr. Reynolds.

- And as excited as a child.

- Well, who wouldn't be?

This is the realization of one of

my greatest wishes.

I envy you. It's seldom a deed of one's

own is gratified in this life.

Well, maybe you'd like to come along.

I would indeed, but I have important

business here.

Well, perhaps we can share a cab.

As far as I remember, your office lies

along my route to the station.

I'm sorry, I have an appointment in another

part of town this morning.

- Pleasant journey.

- Oh, thank you.

- Well, goodbye, dear.

- Goodbye.

- Have a nice time.

- Oh, I shall, I shall.

Haven't you done the bedrooms yet?

- I was going to do them now.

- Then go and do them.

And remember, your month's not

up until tomorrow.

And I won't have any shirking,

even though it is your last day.

Primrose Hill 6420.

Hello?

This is Seven, who's speaking.

( In Hindi )

Tonight we try again, at twelve.

Meanwhile, watch Reynolds,

watch his every move from now on.

Tell number nine he's not to be trusted.

Put these in the living room, Lucy.

I'll take up Mr. Bromilow's.

Come in.

Here it is, Hugh.

From Clayton Productions.

Well, aren't you going to open it?

Er... Yes, of course.

But anticipation...

- Or, um... fear of rejection.

- Oh, not fear, I assure you.

Go on, open it.

All right, here goes.

Oh, you can't fool me.

I know, they didn't return your manuscript,

so they've accepted it.

I didn't send return postage.

Oh, Hugh, I'm sorry.

But I've still got hopes, lots of them.

So have I. And faith in you.

We'll just have to begin thinking

about your new play now.

I have been thinking of it for some time.

Good. What's it about?

Oh, you could call it a problem play,

I suppose.

Oh. Do you think the public's interested

in that sort of thing?

They ought to be.

It's good for their minds.

Maybe. But not for their entertainment.

People like mystery, thrills,

and romance.

Plays that take them away from

their everyday lives.

Why the horror is sold out for

weeks in advance.

Rather sticky, isn't it?

Oh, I'll admit there's blood

all over the floor.

But think how much money

it's author made.

Ten thousand pounds I heard.

A man could work a for years

on a play for that price.

And they say Dwight Winston

wrote it while shaving.

- Razor's edge with, I suppose.

- Oh, no, joking apart.

You ought to do a thriller.

As a matter of fact, I've been

thinking so myself.

Splendid! What's it about?

Mystery, m*rder, and sudden death,

of course.

Where will you set it?

Oh, there's no place like home.

Lucy tells me this house is

positively creepy.

Oh, rubbish.

A mouse in the pantry is the

most exciting thing...

...that's happened around here

since I can remember.

But Lucy just told me while

she was making my bed...

Oh, Lucy would say anything.

- Mother just sacked her?

- But do you know why?

Of course. Breaking dishes,

for one thing.

Now, that is definitely not

Lucy's version.

She said Ram Singh made her drop

the tray on purpose.

Well, I can vouch for Ram Singh's

sense of humor.

And it's certainly not that bad.

But he didn't mean to be funny,

that's the point.

Lucy suspects some sinister connection

between Ram Singh and Reynolds.

Both interested in old china, I suppose.

Especially broken sets.

But Lucy said Ram Singh made her drop

the tray to delay your mother.

In heaven's name, why delay Mother?

She never hurries about

anything as it is.

In this case, she was going into

the hall where Reynolds was.

And Ram Singh wanted to see

Reynolds before he left.

Anyway, that's Lucy's story.

Oh, Lucy says, Lucy does,

Lucy thinks.

If she's got an imagination like that,

why don't you get her to write

your play for you?

Come now, I didn't mean it like that.

It just shows how the simplest incident can

be exaggerated and distorted, that's all.

I see by the way your mind's working.

You are going to do a thriller.

Yes, yes, I think I shall.

That is, if you promise me

just one thing.

To say yes if I sell it.

Why, Hugh, I...

Oh, I see, you don't want any

romance in this play.

Yes, of course I do, but I...

Well, I didn't expect it to be

introduced quite so suddenly.

- Then you agree to my proposition?

- Well...

Um, my mother said I never should

play with the gypsies...

...in the wood.

I agree.

I told you to stop slithering up

on me like that.

We shouldn't be seen together anyway.

You said everything was arranged.

It's almost 12 o'clock.

Mrs. Armitage and the old girl

are coming up now.

The maid went to bed hours ago.

- That writer and Miss Armitage?

- They'll be in any moment.

If they are not?

The car can keep on cruising

till you answer its signal.

Oh, my, it's almost midnight.

Not really! And the sunset

is so gorgeous.

Sunset?

Oh, I'm sorry. It's this wonderful,

wonderful book, it's just too absorbing.

Oh, well, then why not take it

up to bed with you?

I think I shall.

Here they are.

You see, Elsa, the heroine,

has been driving the young man

positively mad with jealousy...

...and he suddenly snatches her

in his arms and says,

"You tantalizing little devil,

I've a jolly good mind to...

Oh, dear me, what a sleepy

little girl I am.

Isn't it fortunate that tomorrow is Sunday?

You'll be able to sleep late.

Hm-hmm. And I think I shall be quite

naughty and have my breakfast in bed.

- That'll be nice. Good night.

- Good night.

Good night.

- Why aren't Sylvia and the young man in?

- They said they'd be in early.

When they do come, get them in

their rooms right away.

And if you should happen to hear a bit of

movement on the stairs later on, don't worry.

- What will there be to hear?

- Oh, never mind.

Oh, Joe, I'm so nervous.

You do promise this is the

last time, don't you?

- Don't start all that again.

- All right!

But this is the last time.

I'm going to put a stop to whatever's

going on for Sylvia's sake.

No matter what I have to do.

I don't like your tone, Stella.

If you're trying to frighten me,

you're making a mistake.

Because I...

- Bread and butter.

- Bread and butter.

- Oh, they left the light on for us

- I promised Mother we'd be home early.

Let's turn it off.

She'll think we're in our rooms.

You know, you look very lovely

in the moonlight.

Sounds like a Gilbert and Sullivan song.

No, I mean it. Moonlight softens

and subdues.

Stirs one's emotions too.

Stop that prattle!

Sylvia!

Yes, Mother. Coming right up.

- Good night, Sylvia.

- Good night, Hugh.

- Going to work on your play?

- Not tonight.

I'm not in that sort of mood.

I feel more like...

Strange, she didn't even look at us.

She couldn't help having seen us.

Do you suppose she was sleepwalking?

One hardly puts on a shawl

to walk in one's sleep.

- I wonder if she takes anything.

- What do you mean?

Oh, nothing. I was just thinking out loud.

Maybe she's upset because

she's been dismissed.

- Maybe.

- Poor thing.

I think I'll talk to Mother about it.

- Sylvia, get to bed at once.

- Yes, Mother, right away.

- Good night.

- Good night, Hugh.

He's gone. It's a trap.

Whatever happens, they mustn't get it.

Good morning, Mother.

Oh.

My, you look sour so early,

what's the matter?

Matter enough.

Lucy's gone.

Just walked out, without even

fixing breakfast.

And there's no chance of getting anyone

until tomorrow at the earliest.

- Well, then I'll help.

- Then bring up Mr. Bromilow's tea.

Miss Snell!

I'm afraid you won't be able to have

your breakfast in bed.

Miss Snell! This is Mrs. Armitage.

Mr. Singh!

This is your call. It's 9 o'clock.

- Good morning, Mrs. Armitage.

- Good morning.

Well, I'm really relieved to see

someone about.

I've rung my bell a dozen times

at least with no response whatever.

I daresay that's true.

Lucy's gone.

Oh, that's why my tea

wasn't brought up.

Oh, she's an ungrateful little beast.

But that's not all.

Neither Miss Snell nor Mr. Singh

are in their rooms.

- An elopement, do you suppose?

- Why, it's most peculiar.

Because I know Miss Snell was planning

to have breakfast in bed.

And Mr. Singh always sleeps late

on Sunday mornings.

They're probably both at Gretna Green

right this minute.

Oh, no joking, Mr. Bromilow.

I can't understand it.

I can't get any answer from

Mr. Reynolds either.

- You were certainly knocking loudly enough.

- Do you suppose he's gone too?

- Let's have a look and see.

- I can't, his door is locked.

Let's try my key, maybe that'll do it.

Oh, yes it will. They're all the same.

That makes it simple.

- Maybe it's locked from the inside.

- We'll see.

It's just struck me, how's Sylvia?

Oh, she's all right.

She's bringing up your morning tea.

Oh, Joe... Joe!

Is he...

- Yes, he was m*rder*d.

- m*rder*d, I can't believe it!

Now, there's nothing you can do.

Just try and calm yourself.

No... No, he can't be dead!

It isn't true! No, it isn't true!

- What's the matter, Mother, are you ill?

- There's nothing for you to worry about.

- She had a shock.

- Shock?

- In there, Mr. Reynolds.

- What's happened?

He was m*rder*d.

- Who did it?

- It's not possible to say.

Can you take care of her

while I call for a policeman?

Yes, but hurry. There's usually

one on the corner.

Constable, come here quickly!

I didn't do it! I swear I didn't!

It could have been anybody in the house,

but I didn't k*ll him!

- Where's the body?

- In that room there.

Now see here, Mrs. Armitage, you've just

got to control yourself.

- I didn't do it, I tell you, I didn't!

- Of course you didn't! Now relax!

Relax? How can I ever relax

again, how can I?

m*rder it is and no mistake, sir.

- You've got a telephone here?

- In the living room downstairs.

I'll notify the Inspector.

But remember, you're all to stay

right here where you are.

Did you see the way he looks at me?

I know he suspects me.

How could he, be reasonable!

I am reasonable, that's why I'm afraid.

- And you hurt my wrist, too.

- I'm sorry, but if I did...

He was just trying to stop your

hysterics, Mother.

But you must be calm, because we'll all

have a lot of questions to answer.

Questions? There! I am under suspicion,

and you know it.

The Inspector will be here presently.

While we're waiting, I'll take down

a few particulars. But I'm warning you.

Anything you say now will be

taken down in writing...

...and possibly be used in evidence

hereafter.

Now, then. Who's the head of

this here house?

- This lady here.

- Your name, madam?

Stella Rosabel Armitage.

- Married or single?

- Married.

Married.

- Is your husband here?

- No.

I see. Living apart, eh?

There, I told you he'd jump at

unwarranted conclusions

Nonsense, Mother, he didn't understand.

My father was away at Holms

for the night.

He'll be back this morning.

Sorry, ma'am, my mistake.

But no offense intended.

- You are Miss Armitage?

- Yes.

I live here and help with the house.

We take lodgers.

- Was the deceased a lodger?

- Yes.

How long had he lived here?

Oh, about ten years, I'd say...

on and off.

- What was his name?

- Joe... Joseph Reynolds.

- Business?

- Oh... I'm not sure.

Some kind of broker, I think, you know.

Buying and selling things.

Well, we'll look into that later.

- Had he any relations?

- No. I mean... I'm not sure.

I didn't know much about his

private life.

Well, I'd say you was an ideal

landlady, ma'am.

You know, I had a landlady once?

Only had her for two weeks, though.

She knew all about me. If I had stayed

another week, she'd have had me out.

But not knowing anything about a lodger

for ten years, that's quite a record.

- Do you doubt my word?

- No need for you to get upitty, now.

Now then.

- Had he any particular attachments?

- What do you mean by that?

Well, was there any lady who

might have... well, you know.

Oh, no... absolutely, no.

- Are you sure of that?

- Yes. I mean... I don't know.

I told you I didn't know much

about his private life.

Why do you keep staring

at me like that?

I can't bear it! I can't bear

to hear this!

I'll take her to her room until

she's recovered.

She'll have to see the Inspector

later, you know.

Of course. She'll be all right

in a minute.

Now then.

May I have your name?

Hugh Bromilow.

B-R-O-M-I-L-O-W.

Mr. Bromilow,

one of the requirements of the Metropolitan

Constabulary is a knowledge of spelling.

I beg your pardon.

- Occupation?

- I write stories and things.

Yes.

- Yes?

- Yes?

What do you do for a living?

Just write. Occasionally I sell

something I've written.

Oh, I see.

Occasional employment.

That would be the Inspector now.

No need for you to come along, sir.

I'm quite able to admit the Inspector myself.

- Where's the policeman?

- He's letting the Inspector in.

It is dreadful.

There's so much I don't understand.

- Mother's behavior is so peculiar.

- She's suffering from shock, that's all.

No, it's more than that.

She knows something she won't tell.

That may be true.

But it isn't guilty knowledge.

At least nothing to do with the crime.

No... No, of course not!

Only just stick by her.

In the meantime I'm going to do a little

detective work myself.

- Starting right from the top.

- Hugh, be careful.

I will.

Which is Lucy's room?

- The one at the top of the stairs.

- Right.

I took the liberty of writing down

a few particulars, sir.

You know, names and addresses

and such.

I'll have a look at them later.

This is Miss Armitage, the landlady's

daughter.

Inspector Gregg himself.

- I'd like to see your mother too.

- She's lying down for a few minutes.

Then I'll look over the victim's

room first.

Right over there, sir.

You feel better now, don't you, dear?

Oh, I'll manage to face the

Inspector, I suppose.

Well, you won't be alone.

Everyone will be questioned.

Yes, but where is everyone?

Where's Miss Snell, Ram Sing, Lucy?

I want to see Lucy myself.

- Does she smoke cigarettes?

- Uh... yes.

I've caught her at it several times,

told her off, too.

Then there goes my clue.

- May we come in?

- Please do.

This is Mrs. Armitage, Mr. Bromilow,

and this here is Inspector Gregg himself.

Mr. Armitage is away, I understand.

- Are there any other lodgers?

- Yes, there are two.

- Ram Singh, an Indian student and...

- I'll see him first.

- Oh, no, he's not here.

- No?

- Where is he?

- I don't know.

He was gone this morning. And his bed hadn't

been slept on, which is quite unusual.

- And the other lodger?

- Miss Snell, a maiden lady.

She's always seemd very quiet

and refined, but...

- Of course you never can tell.

- Is she here?

No. And the odd thing about that is

she'd asked to be served breakfast in bed...

...and yet was gone when I went

to call her.

It does seem odd, both of them

disappear at this time.

- Have they latchkeys?

- Yes.

Leap downstairs.

Tell the boys to keep out of sight.

Don't let anyone come in,

but nobody out.

Very good, sir.

Now, how about the servants?

Well, we have just one.

I mean, we had just one.

- You're not saying she's disappeared too?

- Precisely.

I'd given her notice because she was

sullen and insolent.

Oh, that's a story.

She was supposed to have stayed until today

but she was gone before breakfast.

Said she had a headache last night

and went up to bed.

That's the last I saw of her.

There does seem to be something

q*eer about it.

A maid and two lodgers disappear

and a third one's m*rder*d?

Oh, I shall never forget the way

he looked when we found him.

He didn't answer my knock, Mr. Bromilow

came out and we used his key to get in.

- Reynolds' door was locked, eh?

- That's right, Inspector.

I opened Reynolds' door

just as Mrs. Armitage said.

Inspector, I've just been on

the telephone.

That horse that you bet on,

Aspidistra,

He won. Won by six lengths

all by himself.

What did he pay?

Unfortunately he was disqualified,

so he didn't pay nothing.

- You want anything on the fourth race, sir?

- No!

When was Mr. Reynolds last

seen alive?

I said good night to him in the hall

just before midnight.

Then he went to his room.

- Where was Miss Snell then?

- In her room.

- And the Indian gentleman?

- I don't know.

And the maid was in bed.

- To the best of my knowledge.

- Oh, but she wasn't!

Miss Armitage and I both saw her

just at midnight.

- Where was that?

- In the upper hall.

Miss Armitage and I had stopped

to say good night,

Lucy came down from the attic,

crossed the hall,

and went down the stairs.

Where did she say she was going?

She didn't say anything. She was wearing

a shawl around her face...

...and staring straight ahead.

A most peculiar, fixed stare.

She never even seemed to notice us.

Think she might have had a drop

too much to drink, perhaps?

Oh, so that was it. I might have

suspected as much.

That's why she was so sly,

and sullen, and smooth.

Now, Mother, don't jump at conclusions,

we don't know that.

It's enough for me.

She'd been drinking...

...and got to brooding over some fancied

wrong Mr. Reynolds had done her.

And then she k*lled him.

I don't believe Lucy could possibly

do a thing like that.

She'd have been able to see

the knife that was used, too...

...when she was cleaning his room. Because

it always lay at his bedside table.

That may be it.

Nobody but a person under the influence

of licor or drugs,

or with a heart full of hatred

would have been so vicious,

would have stabbed their victim

so many times.

Oh, so many times, I didn't know that!

- How ghastly, how horrible.

- Sorry, ma'am.

I didn't mean to shock you.

I shouldn't have spoken so frankly.

Um, constable.

Circulate a detailed description

of this maid Lucy...

...and the other two lodgers at once.

Someone's coming.

Just a moment, please.

You're Miss Snell, I believe.

Here, you don't seem to understand, miss,

this here's Inspector Gregg.

- You can't do that, you know?

- It's all right, Miss Snell.

It's just that something unfortunate

has happened...

...and the Inspector wants to ask

you some questions.

That's right, miss. Now, if you'll

give me your name in full...

You needn't be nervous, Miss Snell.

Just one or two simple questions.

I'm sure you'll be able to answer

them quite satisfactorily.

It's the law you're trifling with, miss.

- You must answer, you know?

- Unless you're ill.

Is that it? Are you sick?

Has she got an impediment

in her speech?

Not that I've ever noticed.

Quite the contrary!

Maybe she doesn't want to say

her full name.

No, that can't be it. Because her name

is on her cards.

Phoebe Singen Snell.

Yes, but she's got to answer

for herself, miss.

Perhaps this will convince you

how serious it is.

There's been a m*rder committed

in this house.

Mr. Joseph Reynolds was stabbed

to death last night.

- He's lying in his room right now.

- As stiff as a mackerel.

Perhaps that'll make you speak.

We know you have nothing to hide.

She had nothing to do with this awful thing.

Oh, you can't be too sure.

Still waters run deep, you know.

Now, will you answer for the

last time?

If you don't, I'll have to take you

to the station.

- Great Caesar's ghost!

- May she?

Oh, yes, certainly.

- The poor dear.

- What's it all about?

She woke up early this morning...

...and got a guilty conscience because she

hadn't been to church for four Sundays.

- So she decided to go to early service.

- Well? Well, go on!

Well, she got to the church door...

and suddenly realized she had

forgotten her teeth.

- You wish to speak to me, I believe.

- Yes.

Watch out for her now, Inspector,

she's got her snappers in.

- You're Phoebe Singen Snell.

- Actually, it's Phoebe Marcia Singen Snell.

I usually omit the "Marcia".

Too many names seem a bit

pretentious, don't you think?

Inspector Gregg is doing the

figuring around here, miss.

What time did you retire last night?

Just before midnight, which is rather

late for me. But...

You didn't notice anything

unusual last night?

No, nothing at all.

Only...

Only what?

I had such a very vivid dream.

I was bicycling through Spain...

and the Prime Minister, of all people,

behaved so unconventionally that I...

Yes, yes, yes, but nothing that

concerns this case?

No.

Well, did you notice anybody about

this morning when you left?

- No.

- Not the Indian gentleman or...

That may be Ram Singh now.

It is!

Are you Ram Singh?

You were lucky, Mr. Bromilow,

you might have been k*lled.

Landing on top of him broke my fall.

He's coming around.

- Have the boys bring a stretcher.

- Very good, sir.

My leg... it's broken.

You should be glad it wasn't your neck.

Now perhaps you'll answer my questions.

I've done nothing to answer for.

Your actions upstairs hardly support that.

I was nervous. I'm a foreigner and not

familiar with your police methods.

Well, you'll have a chance

to learn now.

- Has Mr. Joseph Reynolds...

- Don't you believe him!

He would say anything to save himself.

He hasn't saved himself.

In fact...

He's trying to though, if he accuses me.

Yet, this was all his idea from

the beginning.

- Was it?

- I can prove it.

I'll tell everything.

I'll turn King's evidence.

Oh, so you do know something about

our laws, anyhow.

Now, then.

Where were you last night?

Here until midnight.

Then, when the box arrived, I...

I went to get Reynolds.

But his door was locked and

he didn't answer.

- Why?

- That's what frightened me.

I thought he'd gone and tipped

you off that the money was here.

I see. And this box?

I took it away again.

You don't think I'd leave half a million

pounds for a rat like Reynolds, do you?

Half a million pounds!

- Where did you get it?

- I'll ask the questions, Mr. Bromilow.

I beg your pardon, only it seems

such a huge sum.

- It does.

- Where did you steal it?

I didn't steal it! It was sent here

to be used for the cause!

Oh, so that's it.

Foreign money.

Bank of England notes and... gold.

That's it, don't you see?

English money drawn from banks abroad.

Because if anyone withdrew that

much here,

it would be reported and the government

would check to see what it was used for.

- Sabotage.

- Exactly!

- That's it, isn't it?

- Let Reynolds tell you.

Reynolds will never tell anything.

He's dead.

Dead?

And he's upstairs in his

room now.

- He was m*rder*d.

- When? How?

Those are details that we expect

you to supply.

I can't.

I never saw him after the box came.

And he never told you about it.

He never told you anything.

You trapped me!

Perhaps I did trap you.

- But you trapped him and k*lled him!

- No!

No, I didn't k*ll him.

I swear I didn't.

That may be true, Inspector.

If he committed m*rder,

would he have returned here?

- Hear, hear!

- I told you to leave the questioning to me.

Sorry.

Now, as to your organization.

I'm through talking.

I just want to know what Lucy

the maid had to do with it.

Nothing.

We don't employ women and we're under strict

orders not to have anything to do with them.

The fact is I had to remind Reynolds

of that yesterday.

Why, Mr. Reynolds could never be

involved in that way, I'm sure.

Nevertheless, Lucy was with him

in here yesterday.

I heard her mutter as she left.

She seemed terribly upset.

She said she'd show him and make

him feel sorry for everything, too.

You shouldn't talk like that about

a man who's dead, Mr. Singh.

He's not talking about him,

he's talking about Lucy!

And now that she's disappeared,

I'm beginning to think...

That's it. Lucy k*lled him.

I told you she was threatening him.

And she seemed absolutely insane.

She always was a sullen sort. Probably had

m*rder in her heart all along.

Oh, come now, you're just

jumping at conclusions.

I'm not jumping at anything. It's as plain

as the nose on your face.

And that's plain enough,

I must say!

How dare you! I won't stay here

and be insulted.

I'll go to my room if I may!

Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Oh, there's other rubbish to get

rid of here too, Mrs. Armitage.

Don't forget the disgusting food

you serve, and the lumpy beds.

And other things I'm too much

of a lady to mention.

As for me, I shall leave this place

as soon as the police will allow.

Now, what could she have meant

by that, I wonder.

It seemed plain enough to me.

It's as plain as the nose on your face.

The surgeon will set your leg as soon

as you get to the hospital.

Be careful now, it's the left one.

Constable, he fell down the stairs

trying to get out of here!

I... I have been knifed.

This is bad!

Who are you?

I... I am Chunteh, a sailor

from the freighter Kubaba Queen.

- Who stabbed you?

- It was Ram Singh.

Ram Singh!

Why did you come here?

I came to collect wages.

- He was afraid I would tell.

- Tell what?

Did he k*ll Reynolds too?

I do not know.

But he would k*ll anyone for...

Take him to the station.

See what they can do for him.

I'm going too!

I'm not going to stay in this...

this slaughterhouse another minute!

Well, we know who k*lled poor

Mr. Reynolds, anyhow.

I'm afraid I can't agree with that.

The sailor was wounded by

a skilled knifeman...

...such as Ram Singh probably is.

But, as I said before, Reynolds

was k*lled by a frenzied novice,

which brings us back to Lucy once more.

I still don't believe she did it.

No woman bent on m*rder would

ever parade around the house...

...and show herself to everyone

who happened to be up.

It just proves she's mentally

unbalanced.

She got past thinking about herself.

And why did she wear a shawl?

Do you think she'd rather

be hanged than catch a cold?

You writers always try to build

a mystery into everything.

- Mr. Armitage is back, sir.

- Show him in.

Dad!

Stella! They told me what happened.

To think I was away when you

most needed me.

It's all over now, anyway, Tom.

But who could have done such

a terrible thing?

- And why?

- Lucy.

Lucy? k*lled Reynolds?

All the circumstances point

to her, Mr. Armitage.

- Poor girl. She must have gone mad.

- Quite.

Now, as to your own movements.

Mere matter of form, of course.

Oh, I stayed the night at Holms...

with a friend of mine, Jerry Stoddard.

- I have to verify that, sir.

- Yes, of course.

You'll find him at 39, Marine Terrace.

Now, Mrs. Armitage, I'd like a more

detailed description of this girl Lucy.

You needn't bother Mrs. Armitage,

Inspector.

- You can judge for yourself.

- What's that?

Just take a look in there.

Lucy!

Dead.

Has been for hours, I'd say.

Oh, how perfectly awful!

How'd you come to look in there?

Oh, I don't know.

Just idly curious, I suppose.

That clears up the case, anyhow.

I'm not surprised she committed

suicide.

I fancied the river.

- You're sure it is suicide?

- Naturally.

She was an hysterical type, we know.

She k*lled a man and she couldn't

bear to think about it.

Read this, Inspector.

It was him made me do it.

I warned him, and perhaps

he's sorry now.

Whatever anybody says, he drove

me to do this awful thing.

Lucy Timson.

Well, we don't need anything else,

that's sure.

The doctor's here, sir.

He's gone up to Reynolds' room.

I'll be right with him.

May we go to our rooms

now, Inspector?

- Certainly.

- Come.

We'll close up this room until the doctors

have a chance to examine her.

May I have a look at that

letter, Inspector?

Trying to make a Sherlock Holmes

out of yourself, are you?

I just want to see the effect of

hysteria on the handwriting.

Go ahead, only hurry.

That's strange. She starts with,

"It was him made me do it."

The word "It" starts with

a small "i".

She was just an uneducated girl.

Didn't know any better.

That isn't the real reason.

Look at this paper. It's half a double

sheet with the front torn off.

What does that point to?

Probably found the paper in the

wastepaper basket.

Tore off the side that was written on.

Are you through?

Would you care for a little drop

of something, Mr. Armitage?

We've all been through a rather

trying morning.

Yes, yes, I'd be glad

to join you.

No more than two fingers,

Mr. Bromilow.

You'll be charging yourself

with the crime.

You know, I think Lucy's note

was only part of her letter.

The last letter of a suicide...

...who wanted to disgrace the man

responsible for her death.

That's quite likely.

Yet, there isn't much point in

disgracing a dead man, is there?

Well, only perhaps to justify

her k*lling him.

Even so, why should she destroy the part

of the letter that named him?

What's your idea?

Someone found that letter

after Lucy was dead,

saw the chance to pin the

m*rder on her,

and tore off a part to make it

read accordingly.

Rather farfetched, I'm afraid.

Especially in view of her mental condition

which you say you noticed last night.

That, I think, Was a deliberate

attempt to mislead us.

To make us think we saw Lucy

getting ready to k*ll Reynolds.

While Lucy was dead at the time.

I don't quite follow you.

I'm afraid, Mr. Armitage,

you don't want to.

What do you mean by that?

Who in this house could have

impersonated Lucy?

Well, there are three women, there's

Miss Snell, Sylvia and my wife, but surely...

I think it was still another person.

Someone who'd played such

a role before.

A role such as Charlie's Aunt.

Are you accusing me?

Before I actually accuse anyone,

I'll ask you to explain this.

I found it on the floor of the

sitting room...

...in front of the cupboard where

Lucy's body was hidden.

You always carry your little

chess set with you.

Even on such a trip as you

took yesterday.

That's true, Bromilow.

It's also true I k*lled Joe Reynolds.

But in heaven's name why?

When I discovered that he and

my wife were in love.

When did you find that out?

Yesterday, just before I left

to catch the train.

- I saw him kiss her.

- Did they see you?

They didn't know I'd seen the kiss.

For a time I managed to

hide the shock.

I carried on as usual, automatically,

mechanically.

- And then the thing got me.

- What thing?

Jealousy! Jealousy!

The monster kept shrieking

to make a k*ll!

Then it softened, and began

to whisper a plan.

I followed it.

I went into a shop...

...and telephoned Jerry Stoddard.

He was a lifelong friend. I knew he could

be relied upon for anything.

- Your alibi.

- Yes.

And then I paced the streets for hours

with that monster always by my side.

Then I came back here.

You were all at dinner.

I hid in the attic across from

Lucy's room.

Hours later I crawled out.

- Lucy was already dead!

- Yes, and that's what gave me the idea.

I changed into her clothes...

...and pulled her shawl across my face.

Then I showed myself to you and Sylvia.

But why after you k*lled Reynolds

did you move Lucy?

Oh, you see,

Lucy died before nine...

...and I k*lled Reynolds at midnight.

I thought perhaps the doctors would be able

to determine the exact hours of their death.

But you knew she would be

found eventually.

I planned to take her away

at the first opportunity.

And even if she were found, I thought

the letter would perhaps cover things.

Oh, it felt like hours carrying

Lucy downstairs.

You see, I'd used up all my strength

on Reynolds.

I felt like collapsing.

But I'm glad I k*lled him anyway!

- No, Tom, what are you saying?

- Dad!

It isn't true, it can't be!

Yes, Stella, I'm afraid it is.

But no one would have ever known

if it hadn't been for Mr. Bromilow.

- Hugh, how could you?

- Be quiet, someone's coming.

Ah, so here you all are.

Just wanted to tell you the case

is all cleared up.

The doctor pronounced the girl

a suicide.

Poison, it was.

And of course, we know she k*lled

Mr. Reynolds.

So that's the formal verdict.

Unless our friend here has made some

new and vital discovery.

Well, speak up, you're not going

to confess you did it, are you?

No, I'm not.

I hope you're not trying to cover

anybody else either.

No, Inspector, that won't be

necessary, because I did it.

- That's the answer to everything.

- Oh, Tom!

What on earth are you saying, man?

Just that I k*lled Joe Reynolds.

And Mr. Bromilow can prove it.

If this is a joke,

I warn you, anything you say may be

used in evidence against you.

I'm taking you to headquarters.

You come along too, Mr. Bromilow.

Yes, sir, I won't be a minute.

Sylvia, I'm sorry.

I'd have given anything on earth

not to have had this happen.

I know, Hugh.

You'd even have protected him

if he'd let you.

But how would it ever have been

possible for you to do such a thing?

That's very easy to explain.

It's just that I had the best

and the sweetest reason in the world.

Oh, Hugh!

And so Hugh turned to Sylvia,

and his smile was as eloquent

as his words.

I think I have the best and sweetest

reason in the world.

Well, that's the story.

Hugh, it's wonderful!

I only hope no one's offended.

I had to dramatize a bit, of course.

Oh, naturally. You certainly made

a very unpleasant character out of me.

Oh, Dad, where have you been?

I've been over at Holms with

Jerry Stoddard.

Hugh's just finished reading us

his latest story.

- It's a shame you missed it.

- Oh.

He made you a terrible k*ller.

He did, did he?

I'd like to k*ll the man who invented

this chess problem.

Hugh made be out quite a lad

with the girls.

How many times did you say

Tom stabbed me?

Twenty-eight. Cut your throat

a couple of times, too.

How does a man smoke with

his throat cut?

And I resent your fiction that

my teeth aren't my own.

So, just to prove it.

Oh!

I must have a cavity.

You'd better go and see my dentist

tomorrow, dear.

And I assure you, sir, that no one is

more loyal to the Empire than I.

It would do me grave injury if my name were

to appear in your book as that of a traitor.

Oh, names will be changed before

publication, I promise you.

I'd like to have my real name

in a real book, Mr. Hugh.

You would, would you, Lucy?

Well, we'll keep it in.

Maybe use your picture

as a frontispiece, too.

What will my young man say?

You didn't give me much to do.

I want to talk to you about that.

- Excuse us?

- Certainly.

Sylvia, do you remember that promise

you made me?

Of course, but that was only

in your story.

I'd like to have you make

it again, now.

- Why not?

- You mean it?

Certainly.

Well, I'll make the announcement

right now.

But wait, there's nothing to announce.

That promise depended on a play,

not a book.

Oh, I know that, but it's going

to be a play.

I only wrote it as a book first because

it gave me greater freedom of action.

But how do you know it'll be produced as

a play just because you sold it as a book?

Because everything Dwight Winston

writes is produced.

Dwight Winston?

- Yours truly.

- You're... Dwight Winston.

But why should such a successful playwright

come to a little lodging house like this?

For two reasons, my dear.

First to get color and characters...

Secondly, to find a wife.

Oh, Hugh!

If you hurry, we've still got time to get a

license before the registry office closes.

But I can't go like this.

Here's your coat.

You don't need a hat.

That's fine, come on.

My, you are in a hurry!

Yes, I am. I guess maybe we should

pause for just one more minute.

Excuse me, governor, but I was looking

straight ahead, sir,

and I didn't see a blooming thing.

May I be forgiven.

Oh, I wish I was fifty again.

It's the bloody meter buddy coming

through the rain...