An Inspector Calls Page #8

- No. No, I don't think you will.

You needn't look at me,

I know I shan't.

I started it.

No, No I don't think we can quite

say that you started it, Miss Birling.

Can we, Mister Birling?

Inspector, I'll... I'll give thousands.

Yes, thousands. - You're offering

money at the wrong time, father.

It isn't only Eva Smith, father.

It's all the other Eva Smiths.

The things we do to people without

realizing it.

Only for once we've

seen the consequences.

Yes, I was rather hoping one of

you would say something like that.

I suppose if we all knew the

consequences beforehand

we'd all be a bit more careful,

eh Missus Birling?

But it's a pity that so often

something horrible has to happen

before we see some things at all.

Do you know that not one of

you is the same person that you were

when I first came here tonight?

Well now... I wonder

where I left my hat?

I think I saw it in the dining

room, Arthur. - Yes, that's right.

Thank you, Missus Berling.

Thank you.

Eric! - Sheila, please! I don't

think I can stand anymore tonight.

I only want to say how sorry I

am about you and that girl. - Thank you.

We've never been much of a brother

and sister before, have we?

Things change, I suppose.

I can change.

Stop drinking, take my punishment

over the money.

Try and pay it back somehow.

Nobody really cares about the money

anymore, it's you I'm thinking of.

Don't let it make you feel bitter about

father and mother. Don't let it Eric.

Alright. But you mustn't feel like

that about Gerald, either.

I don't any longer, not really.

- Because he's in love with you, you know.

And you are with him, aren't you?

I was very much, but...

after hearing about him and that girl...

- That doesn't matter.

Gerald's alright. Well I know he puts on

the grand Croft manner sometimes

but he's alright behind it all.

You know that, don't you?

- Yes.

Good evening, Mister Croft.

Oh, it's you Sergeant.

Good evening.

Everything alright, sir?

- Yes.

Yes, everything's fine.

Taking a stroll before I turn in.

Looks like a change in the weather, sir.

- Yes. Well, I'd better be going.

By the way, Sergeant, what sort of

a fellow is this Inspector Poole? - Poole?

Which division, sir?

Well, here is Bromley.

There's no Inspector Poole in Bromley, Sir.

Are you certain?

- Positive, sir.

You couldn't be mistaken, could you?

I mean, there couldn't be

a new man transferred here

that you didn't know anything about?

Impossible, Sir. I would've heard of it

down at the station.

No, you can rest assured there

is no Inspector Poole in Bromley.

Is the inspector still here?

Inspector? What inspector?

- Oh, of course you don't know, do you.

They're all in the dining room, sir.

Goodbye, Missus Birling.

Goodbye, Miss Birling.

Good night, Mister Croft.

Just a moment, inspector.

Something has happened, and I

must speak to Mr and Mrs Birling.

Do you mind waiting?

Not at all Mister Croft, but it

won't make any difference, you know.

Well, Mister Birling, where

would you like me to wait? - Wait?

Well...

Would you mind waiting in my study?

- Certainly.

Thank you Mister Birling.

Will you take a seat?

You know something?

- That man isn't a police officer!

What!? - Are you certain?

- Absolutely!

But how did you find out?

I met a policeman I know down the road

and I asked him about the inspector

He swore there was no Inspector Poole

on the force here.

By dingle, a fake! - Yes!

I knew a real inspector would

never have spoken to me like that.

Yes, and look at the way he talked to me too,

ordering me about in my own house!

He must've know I was an

ex-Lord Mayor and a magistrate!

I mean, real inspectors

just don't talk like that.

You were right, he wasn't real.

There's no such inspector.

We've been had.

I just can't believe it.

- Well there's no doubt about it.

This makes a difference, you know.

I suppose we're all nice people now?

If you've got nothing more

sensible to say than that Sheila,

you'd better keep quiet.

She's right, though. - Yes, and

you'd better keep quiet anyhow.

You'd better know Gerald,

I stole some money.

And you'll pay back.

Oh, the money's not important,

it's what happened to the girl and

what we all did to her that matters!

Harry's absolutely right. Just

remember what that inspector said.

But he's not an inspector!

- Well he inspected us all right!

What do you make of this business now?

I suppose there are people in

this town who dislike me enough to

arrange a put-up job of this sort.

What on earth are you doing?

I'm gonna phone the police.

- Idiot!

Give me that!

If the man's an impostor we'd better have him

him arrested before he escapes, haven't we?

You keep out of this. And keep

the police out too.

Anyway, he can't escape without

coming out here.

What about the windows?

Impossible, they're barbed.

Just a moment.

I'm sorry Inspector, we shan't keep you

much longer.

Now we've got him.

All we have to do is to settle

quietly amongst ourselves

what to do, and the best

way to deal with him.

We've established he's an impostor.

It's the same rotten story

whether we told it to a

police inspector or somebody else,

what difference does it make?

It makes all the difference between a

lot of stuff like this coming out in private,

and a downright public scandal!

Scandal? What does a scandal matter?

The girl's dead and we all helped

to kill her, that's what matters.

But did we? Who says so?

There's no real evidence that we did.

Of course there is!

- No, there isn't!

Just think! A man comes here

pretending to be a police officer.

Now what does he do?

Very artfully, working on bits of information

he's picked up here and there,

he bluffs us into confessing

that we've been

mixed up in this girl's life

in one way or another.

And so we have.

But how do we know it's the same girl?

We all admitted it anyway.

- No we didn't!

We admitted something to do with a girl,

but how do we know it's the same girl?

- By the photograph.

But how do we know

it's the same photograph?

He was very careful that Eric and I

shouldn't see the one

he showed to your father.

Now just think back.

Did any two of us look at the

same photograph at once?

No.

No. - No. - Precisely.

There's no proof that it was

the same photograph

Therefore, no proof that

it was the same girl.

Daisy Renton was really Eva Smith.

We've only got his word for it and

he may have been lying all the time.

Of course! There were probably 4 or 5

different girls.

That doesn't matter to me.

The one I knew is dead.

Well, we can soon settle that.

- Oh? How?

By ringing the infirmary.

Hello, will you get me the infirmary?

It's urgent. No, I don't know the number.

Either there's a dead girl there

or there isn't.

And if there isn't?

Hello? Is that the infirmary?

This is Mister Gerald Croft speaking,

of Croft's limited.

We are rather worried

about one of our employees.

Have you had a girl brought

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes