Affair in Trinidad Page #6

You don't understand her.

I understand her only too well.

Now perhaps you can explain to me

why you returned tonight.

Because I found out your man was captured

trying to get into the United States.

Now how do you intend to proceed?

My government is tired

of all these endless delays.

If your government isn't satisfied,

it can go elsewhere.

But we pay you tremendous sums of money.

- You made an investment.

- And we don't intend to lose it.

What possessed you

to bring those people into the house?

The young man is already suspicious.

He recognized Huebling.

He saw Bronec gibbering like an idiot.

Bronec leaves tomorrow.

His work is finished.

He's in no condition to leave.

The man is on the verge

of a mental breakdown.

I said his work is finished.

As for his condition, that will be corrected.

- And Mr. Emery is my concern.

- Very well.

But I warn you, if anything goes wrong,

you will be held responsible.

Remember that.

Walked out again.

I believe it's a national characteristic.

Coming up to see me, Max?

I'm feeling much better, thank you.

Could I have a nightcap?

What did you say

in front of that young man?

Nothing, Max. Nothing.

How do you know,

since you were practically unconscious?

I was there, Max, every minute.

- You took care of everything in Jamaica?

- Yes, everything.

I bought the land in my name,

just as you said.

You told them

you were an impoverished noblewoman?

- Yes.

- And that you were looking

for a piece of land

on which to settle down quietly

with your sick husband?

- Yes, Max. That's what you told me to say.

- And you think they believed you?

Of course they believed me. Ask Franz.

Why shouldn't they?

Because impoverished noblewomen

don't go about wearing strings of pearls

worth $50,000.

- My pearls!

- I told you to leave them here.

Please, Max. Veronica, leave them.

I'll get them for you.

And don't look to me for help

when your visa expires.

I'm through with you and your drunkenness.

- Max, you can't.

- You go to the guesthouse and help Bronec.

He must finish his work tonight,

you understand?

Yes, Max.

Well?

Oh, Max, please.

Good night, sir.

Okay, you can tell your boss.

We didn't even hold hands.

I think we could have gotten along

without that last remark, don't you?

Well, I wouldn't want Mr. Fabian

to spend a sleepless night.

All right, Steve,

you've been saving it up for hours.

Say it.

No. I'm waiting to hear how you'd say it.

- You're a trusting soul, aren't you?

- Not any more. Not after tonight.

Why didn't you tell me

you had a date with Fabian?

I meant to, but I forgot.

You forgot a lot of things.

You forgot to tell me he was

a friend of yours as well as Neal's,

that he bought Neal's paintings.

Did you also forget to tell me

he bought Neal's wife?

The rain woke me.

Get you up, too?

Yes, the rain.

I'm leaving tomorrow.

Leaving?

Yeah.

You won't have to put up

with any more of my insults.

Steve, the things you believe about me,

- they're not true.

- Forget it.

You don't have to account to me

for anything.

But I want to.

Then why didn't you tell me about the crest,

about Fabian, about everything?

What is it between you and him?

There's nothing between us.

Is that why he looks at you

the way he does?

Like he can't wait

to get his arms around you?

I can't help how he looks at me.

But his arms have never been around me.

Nobody's arms.

Not for a long time.

Not even Neal's?

Not even Neal's.

Well, weren't you in love with him?

I was once,

but love is something

that has to be kept alive,

and it wasn't.

Oh, Chris.

Oh, Steve, Steve.

Every time he looked at you tonight,

I could have... If anybody looked at you...

Oh, Chris.

Come back to the States with me.

But I can't now, Steve.

- Why not?

- Don't ask me. I just can't.

What's wrong, Chris?

Nothing. Nothing, but...

I'll come to you later, if you want me to,

as soon as I can.

What is this, another of those phony stalls

I've been getting since I come down here?

Oh, you know it isn't.

How do I know?

Steve.

Very interesting. Very.

But what exactly do you expect me

to do about this?

I expect you to do your job.

Look at the date on that letter.

That was written on the day

my brother died, on Fabian's stationery.

And he said he hadn't seen him for weeks.

Look, what's the matter? You guys have to

have a bomb go off under you

before you do anything?

Mr. Emery, there has been

a thorough investigation of all the facts.

What facts?

You mean the ones at the inquest?

Back home, they ask more questions

when a dog's run over.

Why don't you go up

and look around Fabian's house?

The place is crawling

with phony characters.

And that job my brother wrote about,

how do you know that wasn't for Fabian?

He has a private plane.

Mr. Emery, you have a decided flair

for the dramatic.

Twenty or thirty wealthy residents

have private planes.

You can't arrest people for being phony.

As for this stationery,

your brother could have got it

from Fabian's house at any time,

not necessarily on the day of his death.

You've got an alibi for everything,

haven't you?

Well, maybe you can alibi the way

Fabian acts around my brother's wife.

Frankly, I consider that

an item for the gossip columns,

not for Her Majesty's police.

What's the matter?

Fabian got you in his pocket, too?

I must caution you, Mr. Emery,

that libel is a very serious matter.

So is murder.

I think you'd be wise to go home

and leave this to the authorities.

You'd like that, wouldn't you?

Yeah, too many of you guys

want me to go home.

Give me that. I'll keep that, if you

don't mind. I wouldn't want it to disappear.

- I certainly wish we could tell him.

- So do I. But I have my orders.

Until he's cleared, we can tell him nothing.

Don't worry, Mr. Anderson.

We're checking on him.

We should be hearing very soon.

At the moment, I'm much more concerned

with Mr. Fabian's houseguests.

- Yes, sir?

- Get me Mrs. Emery.

And that's the man

who was working in the guesthouse.

Bronec. Peter Bronec.

Bronec. Bronec. Yes, here he is.

Peter Bronec,

electronics and radar specialist.

Quite a brilliant one.

Huebling and Bronec.

What can Fabian want with those two?

If you could only get into that guesthouse.

But how?

Well, perhaps the night

of the birthday party.

There'll be quite a lot of people

milling about, and you might...

But I couldn't possibly get in.

It would be locked.

- Yes?

- Bronec's leaving. Pan-American, 11:00 A.M.

- Oh, he is? Good.

- We've got it confirmed.

Bronec's leaving on the 11:00 plane.

We'll have to hurry.

I want to have a talk with him.

He seems to be in quite a state.

Perhaps I shall be able

to get something out of him.

But what about Steve? Mr. Emery?

I've got to tell him something.

Call me this afternoon.

I may have some word for you by then.

I know, but I'm worried.

He may get into trouble.

Just be patient, Mrs. Emery,

for a little while longer.

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