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something to me something that simply mystifies me Tell me why should it be you have the power to hypnotize me Let me live 'neath your spell Do do that voodoo that you do so well For you do something to me that nobody else could do Let me live 'neath your spell Do do that voodoo that you do so well For you do something to me that nobody else could do You do something to me that nobody else could do In olden days a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking now heaven knows anything goes Good authors too who once knew better words now only use four-letter words writing prose anything goes The world has gone mad today and good's bad today and black's white today and day's night today when most guys today that women prize today are just silly gigolos So though I'm not a great romancer I know that you're bound to answer when I propose anything goes The world has gone mad today and good's bad today and black's white today and day's night today when most guys today that women prize today are just silly gigolos So though I'm not a great romancer I know that you're bound to answer when I propose anything goes Ah. Good evening, sir. I was beginning to think there was no one at home. Indeed ? And who might you be ? Detective Inspector Doppler, sir, of the Wiltshire County Constabulary. I'm sorry to be calling so late, but I need to have a few words with you... on a very important matter. - Well, you better come in. Wiltshire County Constabulary, you say ? That's right, sir. I'm normally based at Salisbury, but, uh, your local man here asked me to pop over and give him a hand. Those were the days, sir. Tunes you could hum. It was a time for humming, Inspector. Would you care for an aquavit ? - No, thank you, sir. I've had my supper. - Oh. Perhaps you'd prefer a brandy ? Or are you gonna tell me you never drink on duty ? Oh, no, sir. I always drink on duty. I can't afford to in my own time. - Caviar. So that's what that looks like. - Yeah. I've often wondered. I can't say I care for it all that much, sir. Tastes like fish eggs. Fancy. Now, let me take that nasty taste away with a splendid brandy. Do follow me, won't you, Inspector ? These old antiques, sir-- very interesting, sir. You have, uh, quite a collection of toys. Automata, Inspector, and they all work. I wouldn't have thought there's much point in having 'em if they didn't, sir. And now, as the cliche has it, what can I do for you, Inspector ? I am investigating the disappearance... of a Mr. Milo Tindle. Do you know him, sir ? Vaguely. He walked out of his cottage late last friday afternoon, and hasn't been seen since. Really, I'm afraid I'm not very much interested... in the migratory habits of hairdressers. So you do know the gentleman then, sir ? Well, I know his profession. I think my wife has mentioned he had a shop in london. When did you last see Mr. Tindle, sir ? Oh, some months ago. I wouldn't remember exactly. - I'd have no reason to, really. - That doesn't quite accord with our information. I wonder if you could put some water in this brandy for me, please, sir. In fact, two nights ago, he told Jack Benn, the licensee at the white lion, he was on his way up to see you. Barmen are notorious opponents of exactitude, Inspector. Vinous gossip is their stock and trade. "Vinous" as pertaining to wine, I assume, sir. Very good. Then I was wondering if there was something else you could correct for me, sir. What is that ? The impression, gained by a man... who happened to be passing your house on friday night, that shots were fired in here. - Shots ? - Three, our man thinks. - Car backfire. - Oh, no, sir. I'm afraid that only comes in-- saving your presence, sir-- detective stories. No, these were shots from a gun. Our man is positive. I see. May I ask... why you've taken two days to come round and ask me about all this ? Well, sir, uh, these things... always take a little longer... to check out than you think. Your local man wanted to be sure of his facts... before calling me in and before troubling a gentleman like yourself. Facts ? What facts ? Well, after, uh, our informant... had reported the incident, we thought we'd, uh, better have a word with Mr. Tindle, see if he could throw any light on the subject. And could he ? The way to turn that off is to press that stop in, Inspector. Oh. I'm sorry. Thank you. He wasn't at his cottage all day saturday, nor all day today. We must have called there at least half a dozen times. By Jove, sir, Merridew would have been proud of you. Ahh. Your detective, sir. Oh, that's praise indeed, sir. I'm a great fan of his Lordship. Are you really ? Well, you must tell me which is your favorite. I myself have always had a special affection for... the Case of the Crucified Communist. When we stepped inside Mr. Tindle's cottage... to make sure that no harm had come to him, we found this, sir. "Urgent we talk. Come on friday evening, about 6:30. Wyke." May I ask, is this your handwriting, sir ? - Yes, it's mine, all right. - So Mr. Tindle was here then, sir. - He was. - And was there an incident two nights ago... as a result of which shots were fired ? Uh, in a manner of speaking. It was a game we were playing. Game, sir ? What kind of game ? It's called "burglary." Burglary is not a game, sir. Isn't it about time you told me... I don't know the seriousness of my position ? A man comes here. Shots are heard. He has disappeared. Now, what would you make out of that if you were me, sir ? An open-and-shut case. But things aren't always what they seem, Inspector. Why, in the 'Mystery of the Drowned Dummy', your favorite, Lord Merridew-- I am waiting for an explanation, sir. Oh. Well, Tindle arrived about 6:30 and left about an hour and a half later. - I have not seen him since. - And nor has anyone else, sir. Oh, but this is absurd ! You're not suggesting I killed Tindle ? "Killed" Tindle, sir ? I never mentioned the word "kill." Oh, come now, Inspector. You can't pull that old one on me. "Garroted, sir. May I ask how you knew... her ladyship had been garroted ?" "You told me so, Inspector." "No, sir. I never mentioned the word 'garroted.'" I'm sorry you find us so comic, sir. On the whole, what we do is necessary. "You're just doing your job" is the overworked phrase, isn't it ? Possibly, sir. Very possibly. "The overworked phrase." I like that. Your wife and Mr. Tindle have been associating closely for some time, sir. Yes, I thought you'd know about that. - You can't keep anything quiet in a small village. - Perfectly true, sir. You're not suggesting a crime passionnel, I do hope. Not with Marguerite. Oh, God ! That would be like knifing somebody... for the sake of a tablespoon full of cold rice pudding. I'm very partial to rice pudding, sir. I find it a great standby. That's perfect. "'All of you had either the means, motive or opportunity,' "said Inspector Doppler, as he thoughtfully digested... "another spoonful of his favorite pud. 'But only one of you had all three !'" Exactly so, sir, and that person is you. That is divine. Well, I suppose I'd better tell you what happened. - That would be helpful, sir. - Perhaps another drink would be helpful too. I'd love another drink, sir, but I think you'll find that the bottle is empty. Quite right, Inspector. That too can be corrected. Do come with me, won't you ? Now, as you seem to know, Tindle was having an affair with my wife. Now, I belong to that rare breed of men... who genuinely don't mind losing gracefully... to a gentleman who plays the game by the same rules. But to be worsted by a flash, crypto-italian lover boy... who mistakes my indifference for inadequacy... is altogether too much ! You mean, you couldn't bring yourself to accept the situation, sir ? Is that what you're saying ? - I mean, it was the situation I refused to accept, Inspector. Playing the game is very important to you, is it, sir ? Playing the game and games-playing. Yes, Inspector. - I'm not quite sure I see the difference, sir. Oh, it's perfectly simple, Inspector. Playing the game is what every gentleman does, but playing of particular games is my special passion. In a way, my whole life. That sounds a bit sad to me, sir. Like a child not growing up. What's so sad about a child playing, Inspector ? Oh, nothing, sir, if you're a child. Let me tell you, Inspector, I have played games of such complexity... that Jung and Einstein would have been proud to have been asked to participate in them. I have achieved flights of the mind and flights of the psyche... unknown in ordinary human relationships, and I've had a very great deal... of not-altogether-innocent fun. Is there nothing you would not consider a game, sir ? Duty ? Work ? Even marriage ? Oh, please, Inspector ! Don't include marriage. Sex-- sex is the game, marriage the penalty. Round and round we jog towards each futile anniversary, pass "go," collect 200 rows, 200 silences, 200 scars in the deep places. Are you saying, sir, that because of your indifference to your wife, you had no motive for murdering Mr. Tindle ? I'm simply saying, Inspector, that in common with most men, I want to have my cookie and ignore it. It was rather witty, I thought. And what have we here, sir ? That's just an old dressing-up basket, that's all. A traditional place... of concealment, I'm sure you'll agree. Only of the identity, Inspector. The game. Shall we go ? - Shall we go ? - Oh, yes, sir. Coming. Anyway, I thought I'd teach young master Tindle... a lesson for his presumption, test his mettle, as it were. You may not agree with this, Inspector, but take it from me: the shortest way to a man's heart is through humiliation. You'll soon find out what he's made of. Oh. And, uh, how did you plan to go about this humiliation, sir ? To begin with, by convincing him... that as my wife had expensive tastes, and he was virtually a pauper, and he could solve that problem by stealing some valuable jewelry, which I had in my safe. I further persuaded him to take off his clothes and wear a disguise. Appropriately enough, he chose, out of that basket you examined, the costume of a clown. In that ludicrous outfit, he broke into the house and blew open my safe. The jewels were in this box. Good thinking, Inspector. Bravo. - And where are they now, sir ? - I put them in the bank yesterday. - On a saturday ? - Yes, Inspector, on a saturday. I drove over to Salisbury and put them in the night safe. How very provident, sir. May I ask what you did after he blew the safe open, sir ? Tindle pocketed the jewels, we struggled convincingly around the house as part of the game. He was about to make off when I turned nasty and revealed the true purpose of the evening. This was, of course, that I had maneuvered him into a position... where, by pretending to mistake him for a burglar, I could legitimately shoot him. When you, uh, revealed your intentions, sir, what was Mr. Tindle's reaction ? Electrifying ! He swallowed my story hook, line and sinker. He fell to his knees, pleaded for his life. but I was implacable. I put the gun against his head and shot him... with a blank cartridge. You shot Mr. Tindle... with a blank cartridge, sir ? Fainted dead away. My game was over. It was the most gratifying win. You actually... put a gun to his head... and pulled the trigger... as a game ? Call it his initiation test, if you like. He came here aping the gentry, hoping for acceptance. But he had to be taught. You don't join just like that. There's such a thing as breeding ! The quality that breeding brings... cannot be acquired. Of course, he failed his test abysmally. He may well have done, sir, but he also must have been put in fear of his life. Such irresponsible action... warrants a serious charge of assault. I suppose that's marginally better than the charge of murder... you were contemplating a few minutes ago. - I still am contemplating it. - oh, come on, Inspector. I told you what happened. After a few minutes he came to his senses, realized shrewdly that he wasn't dead after all, and after only a few too many brandies lurched off home. I'm sorry you appear to find this all quite so funny, Mr. Wyke. We may not take quite the same attitude. Now, look here ! Why can't you see this from my point of view ? In a sense, Tindle was a burglar. He was stealing my wife, wasn't he ? Which justified your torturing and then murdering him, sir ? Of course not. Don't you see ? It was a game. Just a bloody game ! - Bloody indeed, sir. I achieved what I set out to do, and that was all. - You may well have achieved murder, sir. - No ! - I believe so, sir. - No ! I've told you everything that happened. Would you mind if I had a look around, sir ? Crawl about on all fours, if you like. Get out your envelope and imprison hairs. Gather ye blunt instruments while ye may. Now, I ask myself, if I wanted to conceal Tindle's body, where would I put it ? In my good friend Jolly Jack Tar, the sailor. Very amusing, sir. May I ask how you did that ? No. Jolly Jack and I have our little secret. Then may I ask how you made those holes in the wall ? That one over there, and this one over here. - They look like bullet holes to me, sir. - Quite right, Inspector. So they are. Oh, I understood you, sir, say that you used a blank. Two live bullets to set up the trick, and one blank to complete it. I had to persuade Tindle I was in earnest. Oh, I see, sir. One blank. Then would you just show me please, sir, where Mr. Tindle was when you killed him ? Pretended to kill him, you mean. Quite so. Then would you show me... exactly where he was when the bullet hit him. I keep telling you, it was not a real bullet ! So you do, sir. So you do. Very well then. Where was he... when the blank cartridge was fired ? He was standing, or I should say kneeling, or more accurately cowering, here. - About here, you say, sir ? - Two steps down. - That's it. - Were you close to Mr. Tindle when you fired the gun ? Oh, very. I was standing over him, in fact, with the gun against his head. You see, it was the actual feel of the gun, coupled with the noise of the explosion, that did the trick. The traditional tool of your trade, Inspector ? Joke blood, sir ? I don't think I quite follow, Inspector. Here, on the bannisters, and underneath the carpet. - It's dried blood, sir. - Blood ? Where ? Don't touch it. That's dried blood, all right. There's some more over here. Someone's been rubbing the carpet. See that ? Deep in the pile. That's blood, sir. It's still damp. Will you explain to me how that got there ? I have no idea. Tindle wasn't wounded or hurt in any way. Well, you must believe me ! With real bullets... and real blood, Isn't it about time we stopped talking about games, sir ? Look ! Look at the window ! There you can see the pane of glass he cut out in order to break in. And down there, the imprint of the ladder in the flower bed... and the size 28 boots, or whatever the hell it was he was wearing. Look, I can show you ! - Over the years, my eyes have been adequately trained to see things for themselves, sir. I'm sure they have, Inspector. I'm just trying to point out a few facts... to substantiate my story, like the blown safe I've shown you in the study... and like the dressing-up basket you found in the cellar. You say that Mr. Tindle disguised himself as a clown. I saw no such costume in that basket ! Nor have you pointed out... that mound of earth in the garden, have you, sir ? Mound of earth ? What mound of earth ? That one over by the far wall... in the shade of that cedar tree. - I can't see anything. - Well, it's there, all right. I saw it before I rang your bell. I think we'd better go and have a look at it. Together, sir. Here we are, sir. Now, would you say that had been freshly dug, sir ? How do I know ? Probably something that the gardener's been doing. Ask him. You'll find him somewhere, maundering about, aching for an opportunity to slander his employer-- they all do. All for my part, I've always found... that gardeners make excellent witnesses. They're slow, they're methodical, and they're positive. Inspector, I've had just about enough of this farce. Do you really think I'd be fool enough to bury Tindle out here in the garden... leaving all that newly-turned earth for everyone to find ? If you weren't expecting us, sir, yes. In a couple of weeks, with a little grass seed or a few bulbs, it'd be very difficult to tell it had ever been disturbed. We in the Police force know just how fond... murderers are of their backyards, sir. One's as near a murderer's heart in a garden as anywhere else on earth, eh, Inspector ? - Excepting the bedroom, sir. I think you'll find that's still the favorite. There's no mistaking whose room this is, eh, sir ? My wife showers. I bathe. Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. Clothing all screwed up... on the floor of the wardrobe. That's not like you, sir. Oh ! Here's an interesting monogram-- "I-W." Or have I-- Oh, I've got this the wrong way up. Aha. "M-T." Let me see that. "Made by owen and tan credy of Percy Street... for Mr. Milo Tindle, November 12." Tell me, sir, when Mr. Tindle "lurched off," as you put it, did he lurch naked ? And did he subsequently lurch naked through the streets of the village ? He changed back before he left into these clothes. Do you still maintain, sir, that Mr. Tindle changed into the clown's costume in the cellar ? - Yes ! - Another part... of the humiliation process, I suppose. Then someone must have carried his clothing... up from the cellar and placed them in this wardrobe. - I did. - Why ? Because I felt they'd be better off in a wardrobe than in a dusty old cellar. More convenient. All screwed up on the floor of a wardrobe ? Why ? I didn't think it'd be long before he'd be changing back-- it's all so baffling. Not at all, sir. You threw those clothes on the floor of the wardrobe... because you knew that Mr. Tindle would not be needing them again... Ever ! That's right, sir, isn't it ? - He changed back before he left... and wore them when he went away ! I think you started this... exactly as you say you did-- as a game in order to play a diabolical trick on Mr. Tindle-- but that it went wrong. Your third shot was not a blank, as you had supposed, but a live bullet that killed Mr. Tindle stone dead, spattering blood on the bannisters in the process ! Then, when you realized what you'd done, you simply panicked, like a thousand murderers before you, and buried the corpse in the garden. It was very silly of you... not to clean the blood properly off the bannisters and burn his clothes. I swear, Tindle left here alive ! At the risk of appearing facetious, sir, you had better tell that to the judge. Look, there's only one way of dealing with this. If you think Tindle's out in the garden, for Christ's sake, why don't you go and dig him up ! - We don't need to find him, sir. If Mr. Tindle is not beneath that newly-turned earth, it will merely go to indicate that in your panic, you first thought of putting him there, changed your mind, and buried him somewhere else. - Where ? - Oh, that's not important, sir. He'll turn up sooner or later. And if he doesn't, it scarcely matters. We have your note summoning Mr. Tindle here, shots were heard, bullet holes made, blood is on the bannisters and the carpet, his clothes were hidden in your wardrobe, and he had disappeared. Who needs a body ? Sir, come along, then. It's time to go. - No ! I can't believe-- I'm afraid-- I'm afraid, sir, that I must insist. There is a Police car at the end of the driveway. I don't care if you've got a fleet of Police cars ! I'm not bloody well going ! Now, let's have no problems, sir. Please don't make it difficult. - Christ ! You're hurting my arm ! You give me no alternative. If you'll just come quiet. Can't I get my lawyer ? It's my right ! We can make a call from the Police station. We wouldn't wanna do anything unconstitutional. Come now, sir. Don't despair. You may get off with as little as seven years. Seven years ? Seven years to regret the playing of silly games that go wrong. Spare me the sentiment ! It didn't go wrong ! It all went bloody well right ! You think so, do you, sir ? We real-life policemen... are not as stupid as we are sometimes portrayed... by writers like yourself. We may not have our monocles... or our orchid houses or our deerstalkers... or our shovel hats, but we are reasonably effective for all that, sir. You seem to know a hell of a lot about detective stories, Inspector ! Yes. I have read quite a few in my time, sir. And in recent years, I have come to believe that the detective story... is the normal recreation of noble minds, sir. Who or what the hell are you ? Detective Inspector Doppler, sir. It is spelled like "Dopple," which, as I'm sure you know, means "double"... in German. And for those whose minds... run to these things, it is virtually... an anagram... of the word "plodder." So... Inspector Plodder... becomes Inspector Doppler, if you see what I mean... sir. - Milo. - The same ! You shit ! Grazie mille. You all-time, knockdown, champion bastard, Milo ! You're too kind. I'm not saying it wasn't well done. It was extremely beautiful. It was very-- it was brilliant. Incidentally, you forgot to take out your left eye. Now he knows I'm funny. "Do have a drink, Milo." Mmm. I'm sorry. Do help yourself. I'll have a wash first. I'm covered in makeup and spirit gum. - Use the kitchen. - No, I prefer the master bathroom. Your very good health, sir. Cheers. I must say, I must congratulate you, Milo. It was first class. You sure had me going there for a while. For a while ? Well, it was quite a while, I concede. But I got a bit suspicious towards the end, you know ? You did go on a bit, I thought. What did you think of my performance ? The anguish of the innocent man, trapped by circumstantial evidence. - It wasn't a performance. - Of course it was. It had to be convincing. Apparently, I succeeded. You just don't know how to lose at all, do you, Andrew ? All that crap you gave old Doppler... about the gentry losing gracefully. Jesus. Why, I told you, you-you did well. It was really good. I loved your Inspector Doppler. I'm glad you view... the trifling masquerade in that light, sir. Your makeup was damn good-- first-class. You didn't do that yourself, did you ? I am a hairdresser, don't forget. I do have friends in the, uh, arts. I suppose you, uh, sneaked-- slipped in here yesterday while I was in Salisbury. - Yes. - Dumped your clothes into my wardrobe... and sprinkled a little sacrificial blood onto the bannisters, hmm ? It wasn't my blood, I know you'll be relieved to hear. I got it from a pig's liver. I suppose you could've used almost any dago wine. - Oh, I'll have that drink now. - Of course. - Gin and tonic, I think. - You richly deserve it, my dear fellow. Come along. You know, I haven't congratulated you yet... on your, uh, game. - Oh ? - It was jolly good. You really think so ? Good. I must say, I was rather delighted with it myself. I say, did you really think... your last moment on earth had come ? Yes. You're not cross, are you ? Cross ? I don't understand. That's one of your words. Look, as I explained to you, when you were playing Doppler, I had to test your mettle to see if, as I suspected, you really were my sort of person. A games-playing sort of person ? - Exactly ! - And am I ? There's no question about it. Compare your experience this weekend, my dear Milo, with any other moments in your life. Now, if you're honest with yourself, you'll have to admit... that you lived more intensely in my company than in anybody else's. Now, even with Marguerite. Now, we know what it is to play a game, you and I. That's so rare. Two people brought together, equally matched, having the courage... and the talents... to make of life a continuing charade of bright fancies, happy invention; to face out its emptiness... and its terrors by playing. By just playing. Haven't you forgotten the jumped-up pantry boy... who doesn't know his place ? We are from different worlds, you and me, Andrew. In mine, there was no time... for bright fancies and happy inventions. No stopping for tea. The only game we played was to survive... or go to the wall. If you didn't win, you just didn't finish. Loser lose all. You probably don't understand that. Understand or not, nothing you've said disproves my point. Look at the way you chose to get back at me-- by playing Inspector Doppler. Simple revenge. Paying back in kind. Every wop knows about that. - Well, is honor satisfied ? Score even ? One set all ? "Honor" ? That's another one of your words. I know... that you've stripped me... more than naked. I know... that you actually... terrified me to death. I stood on those stairs looking down... and realizing that my-my coat sleeve button, the bannister, the nail on my fourth finger... were absolutely the last things I was gonna see... ever. Then, I heard... the sound... of my own death. Now, that changes you, Andrew, believe me, and I still owe you for that. It'll pass. It's shock, my dear fellow. Here, let me give you-- I don't want an even score ! And don't you give me any of that one-set-all, it's-enough-to-take-part crap. My father just took part, and his father, and his father. Losers, as far back as you can go ! Well, it stops with me ! With me, the Tindles start winning ! And others start losing. You, for example. Me ? Lose what ? A new game-- My kind, my rules, played my way. And to start it, I have killed someone. - You've killed someone ? - Murdered someone. Committed murder. - You're not serious. Deadly. It's a real game and a real murder. There's absolutely no point in playing another pretend game. Isn't that right ? - Absolutely. - We're past pretending now. We'll leave that to the amateurs-- the gentleman players like you. Uh, look, Milo, I think perhaps another time-- - It can't wait ! - All right. All right. We'll play your game. Now, whom did you kill ? "Whom" ? "Whom" ? Who, besides yourself, is the closest to being someone you care about ? Would it be your girlfriend, Tea ? Possibly. Why ? - She's the one. You killed Tea ? She, whose cobalt eyes... were the secret forest pools of Finlandia. I closed them. - You-- - Yes, I strangled her, right over there on that rug. I strangled her. And-- oh, yes, I screwed her first. You raped and strangled-- No, not rape. She wanted it. - You're lying ! You can't take me with a crude game like this. Honestly, Milo, I gave you credit for better sport. When I was here yesterday... planting the blood and clothes for old Doppler, Tea showed up looking for you. So I "pitched her a little woo," as you would've said in your day, and we danced cheek to cheek to those cornball, big-band oldies of yours. I mean, who but you would have them ? Anyway, it worked. She got itchy, and I had to scratch, didn't I ? And afterwards she got sleepy, and that's when I did it, old boy. I wrung her neck. She was under that freshly-dug mound of earth... that old Doppler took such a fancy to. - "Was" ? She's not now ? - No, I moved her. - Where to ? The flooded gravel pit ? Fu Manchu's abandoned glue factory ? It doesn't matter where to. The Police will find her in due course if they haven't found her already. - The Police ? - Yes. I phoned them about an hour ago... and asked them to meet me here at 10:00. They should arrive in about 15 minutes. I'm sure they will too. Led, no doubt, by intrepid, downy Inspector Doppler. - Nope. It'll be a real cop, all right. Detective Sergeant Tarrant Is his name. Check it, if you like. I told him a lot about you, Andrew. I said I knew you to be a man obsessed with games-playing... and murder considered as a fine art. Your life's great ambition, I said, of which you'd often spoken... was to commit an actual, real life murder, hide the body, then leave clues linking you with the crime scattered about the house, convinced that the poor, simple minded Police... would never recognize 'em for what they were. "Please, sir, Andrew wyke can't rest until he's committed a real murder, but he's gonna make fools out of all you coppers." Honestly ! Tell that to the average desk Sergeant, and you'll find yourself strapped right into the giggle jacket. Not so, in fact. I told them that if they didn't believe me, one look at your books and the furnishings of your house... would confirm what I said about your obsessions. Go on. I also told them that two days ago, your girlfriend came to my house in great distress, saying that you suspected her... of having affairs with other men and threatened to kill her. I bet they believed every word of that ! In the end, yes, they did. My dear boy. I do appreciate that in spite of your denials, you've been captivated by the spirit of games-playing... and the need, as you see it, to win at any cost. But frankly, you are trying too hard... to be a big boy too soon. Hello-- hello, Joyce ? It's Andrew. Can I speak to Tea ? She-- what ? Been strangled-- Well, where was this ? When-when was it ? Where was she found ? What ? Uh, Joyce, uh, I can't understand what you-- Do try to control your-- What ? The Police... asked-- Oh, my... God. You should've believed me. Now, we're gonna play the game. In a little over 30 minutes, the law will arrive. It's going to be your giant brain... against their plodding ones. Concealed about this room... are four clues incriminating you... as Tea's murderer, including, as a final expression of your contempt for the Police, the murder weapon itself. Now, are you ready ? You can't make a game out of real murder. We'll see. Now, remember: four objects. Those that you don't find, be sure the Police will. And they are all in plain view. And the first object is... a crystal bracelet. - Not the one-- - Yes. I tore it off her wrist. It's, uh, it's inscribed-- All right, all right ! I know how it's inscribed. - Would you like some help ? - Yes, damn you ! Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. So soon. Now, where's my list ? - Oh, God. - Here it is. "For any man with half an eye, what stands before him he may spy. "But optics sharp it needs, and clean, to see what is not to be seen." You said everything was in plain view ! Well, aren't I the shifty old sly boots then ? You're not giving me anything for a chance, you bastard ! Now, think, think, think. It's in plain view yet not to be seen, and optical tricks involved. To see what is not to be seen by the naked eye. It's-it's microscopic ! Only a fragment of it is showing ! That's it ! The traditional tool of your trade, Inspector. Why don't you ask yourself... how your man "Merridick" would go about the search. Merridew ! St. John Lord Merridew ! Calm. Keep calm. Now, think. What are the problems of crystal ? Hard, brilliant, transparent. Look through it, but you don't see it. That's the trick ! Now, the only place to conceal transparent things... so as to make it invisible and yet leave it in plain view... is on or in another transparent thing like-- like-- Clear as crystal. But I-- I don't need to destroy this, do I ? She could've left it here any time. - True. - Go on. What next ? - Ah. The next object is much more incriminating. Here's a little riddle which I'm sure... one of your nannies must have taught you. Two brothers we are great burdens we bear on which we are bitterly pressed. The truth is to say we are full all the day and empty when we go to rest. I know that ! I know that. Uh, just a minute. "Full all the day, empty when we go to--" I know ! It's a pair of shoes ! In this case, one lady's left black shoe, size six. The other, I need hardly add, is on Tea's foot. God ! Poor Tea. Poor Tea, eh ? That's better. Do you know that's the first sign of sorrow you've shown... since you heard of her death ? You wouldn't put it here anyway, or even upstairs among Marguerite's shoes. It's too obvious. - Such grief is touching. You really are the salt of the earth, you know that, Andrew ? By the way, that's a clue, if you're interested. "Salt of the earth" ? Earth ? It's buried ! No, better the other. Salt. Salt. Salt and pepper. saltpeter. Salt water. Salt cellar. It's in the cellar ! You're really turned on, aren't you, Andrew ? Even though the game you're playing... is for your own life, you're practically having it off. Shoe ! Shoe. I ask myself, "if I was a black shoe, where would I hide ? If I was as black as your hat-- If I was as black as the ace of spades-- If I was as black as--" - Coal ! That's it ! Bastard ! Dirty son of a bitch ! You're getting warmer... and blacker. Must be quite a new experience for you. I don't suppose "blacks" play much of a part in the books you write, do they ? Except for the odd, eyeball-rolling darkie... to take his place alongside the swarthy yid, the oily lebantine, and others. Oh, I'm sorry it's so messy. It's only earth... from Tea's first grave in your garden. Not so bad. We're up on the clock, I think. - Barely. Well, what's next ? What do you find so damned amusing ? What the hell are you laughing at ? - You sure you're all right ? - Yes, I'm all right, Jack. Jack ? You simple minded twit ! You've been handing me the clue all along ! It's Jolly Jack Tar ! It's on the sailor ! True ! That's where it is. But this time, I am not going to tell you... what it is. All right ! He looks disappointed in you. But then, it's no laughing matter. Or is it ? Do that again. My God, he's never winked at me before ! I suppose the other lash is on one of poor Tea's eyes. She won't miss it. They're both closed. How much more time ? You've got about five minutes. Hardly enough, I'd say. There's one more thing left, I think-- the murder weapon. You strangled her over there with what ? Rope ? A belt ? A scarf ? - It bit into her neck very deeply, Andrew. I had to pry it loose. You'll pay for that, I promise, you sadistic, bloody wop ! I hope I didn't hear that correctly. You're certain to need more help. I'd hate to have to start giving you difficult italian clues... full of treachery and double meaning. All right. All right ! As several wops have remarked from time to time, non e oro tutto che scintilla. Is that a clue ? Say the damn thing again, then. Non e oro tutto che scintilla. No. Once more, please. Non e oro tutto che scintilla. Que hora ? What's the time ? No, uh-- Oro. Oro. Gold ! Gold ! Oro tutto. All gold. Uh, scintilla. Scintilla. Scintillare. Uh, gold scintillates-- g-g-glitters-- All that glisters is not gold ! There will always be an England. You strangled her with something golden and scintillating. What-- what's that ? A musical clue. Right. Now, um, golden, uh-- Golden notes. Golden scale. Golden-- golden chord. It's a chord ! You strangled her with a golden cord ! And like everybody does, you hid it behind the bell pull ! No, damn it, you didn't. "Anything goes !" In olden days-- In olden days a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking-- Stocking ! Where would you put stockings ? Up the-- on legs. Legs-- the golden legs ! There's not a golden leg in the blasted house. It-- is it in this room ? Non capisco. Oh ! Bastard ! In olden days a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking Now, heaven knows anything goes The world has gone mad today and good's-- I-I think I can hear something. Andrew ? Andrew ! - What ? - They're here. The Police are here. It looks like you've had it. They're coming up the drive. - Keep them out ! - Keep the Police out ? It's just not done, old boy. But still, I'll try. Just one more minute ! Stall them somehow ! Please ? Remember: "In olden days, a glimpse of stocking." Mr. Tindle. - Olden days. - I wasn't expecting to find you here, sir. - Good evening, Sergeant Tarrant. - A glimpse-- In olden days. Before tights, what ? Nylon. Before nylon, what ? Silk. Then what else ? What... else ? Clock. Stockings had clocks. In olden days. A glimpse. Now you see it, now you don't. Why don't I have a go at it ? Just let me tell him you're here. - Andrew. - Hmm ? Is it all right if I introduce Detective Sergeant Tarrant and Constable Higgs ? Oh, yes, of course ! Come in, gentlemen. come in. Do. I'm-- Or should I say, Inspector Plodder and Constable Freshface. Thank you, Sergeant. We won't be needing you after all. That's all right, sir. Better to be safe than sorry. That's what I always say, sir. Good night, Sergeant. Good night, sir. Good night, Constable. Good night, sir. First, I suppose you'll want to know about Tea. She did call yesterday while I was setting up the Doppler scene, and I told her about the trick that you played on me with the gun. She wasn't a bit surprised. She knows only too well the kind of games you like to play-- the kind of humiliation you enjoy inflicting on other people. I explained to her that... I wanted to play a game and get even with you, and I asked her to lend me a stocking, a shoe, a false eyelash, and that bracelet... that you bought her. And she was happy to help, and so was her flatmate, Joyce. Would you like to phone Tea ? She'll talk to you now. But then, you wouldn't have very much to say to her, would you ? She's not really your mistress, is she ? She told me... that you and her haven't made it together... for over a year. She also told me... that you are practically impotent. Not at all, in fact, the selector's choice for the next Olympics. I warned you, Andrew. I don't play games for the sport ! Particularly not... games of humiliation. I know too much about that. Where are you going ? I'm going to get Marguerite's fur coat. She's not coming back ? No. I live... as I want to live. You know, I've been thinking of that writer you told me about, and it is my opinion... that your detective stories are the normal recreation... of snobbish, outdated, life-hating, ignoble minds. I'll get that fur coat now. You'll see. You'll see. Inspector, I was working in my study... when I heard a noise in here. So I took my revolver... and I came in here... to investigate. Here was this young man... running down the stairs... with my wife's fur coat over his arm. I shouted for him to stop, but he wouldn't pay any attention, but ran on towards the door, hoping to make his escape. Naturally, I fired. I aimed low. Believe me, Inspector, I did. The most appalling thing happened. I shot him dead. That's all right, sir. Don't distress yourself unduly. A thing like that could happen to anyone. I can't let you go now. What do you mean ? Going about... Telling everyone, it's just not possible. Who--whom would I tell ? Who'd be interested ? One person would be too many, even Marguerite. Especially Marguerite. What are you gonna do then, Andrew ? Shoot me down ? Play that old burglar game again ? - That's right. - It wouldn't work now. No. Why not, I wonder ? Because of what really happened after I left here last friday night. Oh. What really happened ? I did lurch home... dazed, dirty and humiliated. And I sat up all night. And in the morning, I went to the Police station... and I told them what you'd done to me. And one of them, Detective Sergeant Tarrant-- Oh, yes, he's real-- he took me into a little room and we had a long chat, but I don't think he paid very much attention... to anything I said. So I thought to myself, "he's not gonna do anything about this." No. Why not ? You know the answer to that just as well as I do. In his eyes, I'm just some common little git... who's been screwing the wife of a local nob and got what he deserved. So perhaps the Police won't come by as I said they would. But even if they don't, they'd never believe that burglar story of yours. Not now. So, you see, you've lost. You can't fool me anymore, Milo. I haven't believed a single word you've been saying. It's the truth. - Liar. - Phone Sergeant Tarrant if you don't believe me. You come here and announce your intention... to steal away my wife, you pry into my manhood, you lecture me on ignoble minds, and you mock the creation of my life, St. John Lord Merridew. Well... They're all real bullets this time. The game's over, Andrew. I'm going home now. Milo, you do see... I'm not really a very good games player. I mean to say, never play the same game three times running. Andrew... Don't forget: be sure and tell them... it was just... a bloody game. |
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SG1 4x16 2010 Stargate SG1 4x17 Absolute Power Stargate SG1 4x18 The Light Stargate SG1 4x19 Prodigy Stargate SG1 4x20 Entity Stargate SG1 4x21 Double Jeopardy Stargate SG1 4x22 Exodus Stargate SG1 5x01 Enemies Stargate SG1 5x02 Threshold Stargate SG1 5x03 Ascension Stargate SG1 5x04 Fifth Man Stargate SG1 5x05 Red Sky Stargate SG1 5x06 Rite Of Passage Stargate SG1 5x07 Beast Of Burden Stargate SG1 5x08 The Tomb Stargate SG1 5x09 Between Two Fires Stargate SG1 5x10 2001 Stargate SG1 5x11 Desperate Measures Stargate SG1 5x12 Wormhole X-Treme Stargate SG1 5x13 Proving Ground Stargate SG1 5x14 48 Hours Stargate SG1 5x15 Summit Stargate SG1 5x16 Last Stand Stargate SG1 5x17 Failsafe Stargate SG1 5x18 The Warrior Stargate SG1 5x19 Menace Stargate SG1 5x20 The Sentinel Stargate SG1 5x21 Meridian Stargate SG1 5x22 Revelations Stargate SG1 6x01 Redemption Part 1 Stargate SG1 6x02 Redemption Part 2 Stargate SG1 6x03 Descent Stargate SG1 6x04 Frozen Stargate SG1 6x05 Nightwalkers Stargate SG1 6x06 Abyss Stargate SG1 6x07 Shadow Play Stargate SG1 6x08 The Other Guys Stargate SG1 6x09 Allegiance Stargate SG1 6x10 Cure Stargate SG1 6x11 Prometheus Stargate SG1 6x12 Unnatural Selection Stargate SG1 6x13 Sight Unseen Stargate SG1 6x14 Smoke n Mirrors Stargate SG1 6x15 Paradise Lost Stargate SG1 6x16 Metamorphosis Stargate SG1 6x17 Disclosure Stargate SG1 6x18 Forsaken Stargate SG1 6x19 The Changeling Stargate SG1 6x20 Memento Stargate SG1 6x21 Prophecy Stargate SG1 6x22 Full Circle Stargate SG1 7x01 Fallen Stargate SG1 7x02 Homecoming Stargate SG1 7x03 Fragile Balance Stargate SG1 7x04 Orpheus Stargate SG1 7x05 Revisions Stargate SG1 7x06 Lifeboat Stargate SG1 7x07 Enemy Mine Stargate SG1 7x08 Space Race Stargate SG1 7x09 Avenger 2 0 Stargate SG1 7x10 Birthright Stargate SG1 7x10 Heroes II Stargate SG1 7x11 Evolution I Stargate SG1 7x12 Evolution II Stargate SG1 7x13 Grace Stargate SG1 7x14 Fallout Stargate SG1 7x15 Chimera Stargate SG1 7x16 Death Knell Stargate SG1 7x17 Heroes I Stargate SG1 7x19 Resurrection Stargate SG1 7x20 Inauguration Stargate SG1 7x21-22 The Lost City I n II Starship Troopers (Special Edition) Starship Troopers 2 Story Of A Kiss Strada La Strange aventure de Docteur Molyneux Street Of Love And Hope (Nagisa Oshima 1959) Street of shame (Akasen chitai) Streetcar Named Desire A Style Wars Suicide Regimen Sukces 2003 Summer Tale A 2000 Sunday Lunch (2003) Super 8 Stories Superman IV - The Quest for Peace Surviving the Game Swedish Love Story A (1970) CD1 Swedish Love Story A (1970) CD2 Sweetest Thing The (Unrated Version) Swept Away Swordsman III - The East is Red Sylvester - Canned Feud (1951) Sylvester - Speedy Gonzales (1955) Sylvester and Elmer - Kit for Cat (1948) Sylvester and Porky - Scaredy Cat (1948) Sylvester and Tweety - Canary Row (1950) Sylvester and Tweety - Putty Tat Trouble (1951) Sylvester and Tweety - Tweetys SOS (1951) |