Beat the Devil
These are
four brilliant criminals
at the climax of
their most magnificent effort.
This effort began
six months ago in Portoverto,
where we were all
to board the ship for Africa,
and they were my...associates
in a quest for uranium,
an element not one of them
knew the first thing about,
except that they'd heard
you could get dough for it.
Big dough.
Who are-? I mean,
what do you suppose they are?
Businessmen.
Does it matter?
Well, if we're going to be
on a small boat with them
for weeks and weeks.
I only said they might be
fellow passengers.
Harry, we must beware
of those men.
They're desperate characters.
What makes you say that?
Not one of them looked
at my legs.
Good morning, Mrs. Dannreuther.
Good morning, Billy-Boy.
Care to join us
in a stroll?
Stir up the liver,
sweat out the toxins.
Help nature to help you.
Wouldn't dream of it.
Really, Billy,
you mustn't be so offhand
with Mr. Peterson.
If I were to treat him with more
than common politeness,
he'd misunderstand
and try to push me around.
Mr. Peterson is a bully.
- Billy, did you see this?
- Huh?
That man in London
has been killed.
What man?
"Paul Vanmeer,
"a high-ranking official
in the Colonial Office,
"was stabbed to death
early this morning
"by an unknown assailant
outside a club in Soho.
"This is the third crime
of violence
"to occur in that vicinity
within the past month."
What is it, Billy?
In heaven's name, Billy,
say something.
You understand, of course,
that Peterson arranged this.
It seems there's been a lot
of violence around there lately.
Oh, don't pretend to be a fool.
But look, Billy,
this happened
early Tuesday morning.
We'd all left London
well before that.
What about Jack Ross?
What about the Galloping Major?
But he only-
I thought he only stayed behind
to get that phone call
from Mombasa.
If it came through,
he'll be here this morning.
Well?
Don't get so excited.
Don't jump
to unpleasant conclusions.
Jump? They might as well
have drawn a map.
Why was Peterson worried
about Vanmeer?
What made him think
he was dangerous?
He was afraid Vanmeer
wouldn't stay bought.
He was afraid he'd get
the wind up after we'd gone.
He had visions
of him trotting upstairs
to his superiors
and announcing,
"I have certain information
that certain persons
are paid certain sums
of money-"
Don't talk so loud, Billy.
"- to obtain illegal rights
to certain mineral supplies."
That Indian-
That rajah or whatever he was.
- that you worked
for in the old days.
He killed a lot of people,
didn't he?
Ah, but he had a better style.
Besides,
he was out for a kingdom
half the size of France.
What's the difference between
that and millions of dollars?
We must think
of the future, Billy.
This is our big chance.
It may be our last.
Except for Mr. Peterson,
we couldn't even pay
last night's hotel bill.
Where are you going?
I'm going down to the caf,
drink a lot of Pernod,
listen to the band.
You won't make a fuss,
will you?
It doesn't do
to make a fuss.
You have to think
of the main objective.
Naturally,
it doesn't do to be fussy.
It's your move,
Gwendolen.
Gracias.
The luggage is in there.
Bring it up.
Harry, look.
The desperadoes.
Shh.
Not quite
in our contract, Billy.
Hard liquor before noon.
I'm celebrating.
Celebrating what?
The safe arrival of the major.
He came galloping
in a minute ago,
looking tired
but satisfied.
I take it his mission
was accomplished.
Yes. Well, it's getting on
for lunchtime, gentlemen.
I'll see you later, Billy.
Your move, Gwendolen.
Gwendolen,
it's your move.
Oh.
Check.
Blast.
Are you sailing
on the Nyanga?
- Africa-bound.
- So are we.
Oh, my name is Chelm.
This is my wife.
How do you do?
My name is Dannreuther.
How do you do?
Are your friends
sailing too?
The whole kit and caboodle.
You're a very mysterious group,
I must say.
Really, Gwendolen.
How so mysterious?
Well, for one thing
you all appear
to be of different
nationalities.
It's your move,
Gwendolen.
Check.
I have a theory about you
and your friends.
Correction. My associates.
As a matter of fact,
I think you're doctors.
Evil ones, I mean.
You're going
to the heart of the jungle,
where human life is cheap,
to perform ghastly experiments
which require
the sacrifice of thousands
on the altar of science.
You must excuse my wife,
she has
a very lively imagination.
Checkmate.
I don't know how you expect me
to play a decent game
when you keep talking
all the time.
Harry's been
all out of sorts today.
Usually
he's a wonderful loser.
Good morning, Mr. Dannreuther.
I bring you
the captain's compliments,
along with the sad news
that the sailing
of the S.S. Nyanga
has been postponed.
Now, look here.
This boat is definitely,
most definitely scheduled
to sail at 2400 hours.
Scheduled, Mr. Chelm,
but not, I fear,
destined to do so.
Propeller gone
or is the captain drunk?
Oh, of course the captain
is drunk,
but the real trouble
is with the oil pump.
Well, it's not good enough.
Simply not good enough.
Quite right, sir.
But you're putting it
too mildly.
The present oil pump
is no good at all.
How much delay
does this mean?
Oh, to locate, bargain for,
purchase and install a new one
will require, I should say,
more than a day,
less than a fortnight.
Utter hopeless inefficiency.
Probably it isn't
the oil pump at all.
Just making it an excuse
to hang about
and pick up extra cargo.
Guns or opium?
I wouldn't be surprised if
she turns out to be a smuggler.
What a miserable place
to be stuck in.
A squalid fifth-rate port.
Ever been in Portoverto before?
No, I don't know this part
of the world at all.
I thought not. Otherwise
you wouldn't be so upset
about staying.
Magnificent country.
Ruins to visit by moonlight.
Fine stretch of beach.
And back there in the hills,
one of the few spots left
in the world
where you can get
decent food and drink.
It's called the Blue Pavilion.
I insist you give me
the pleasure
of having dinner
with us tonight.
Well, that's awfully kind
of you, but-
Us?
You and your associates?
My wife and me.
The Committee.
Oh, uh, Mr. Chelm, I-
I want you to meet
a friend of mine.
This is the Galloping Major.
The Committee wants you
to toddle 'round.
- Okay.
- Right away.
- I'll be along.
- Toddle.
I said I'd be along.
They don't like
to be kept waiting.
I'll lay on a car.
We'll meet in front
of the hotel at 6.
Arrivederci.
Dannreuther, an American,
I suppose.
Anyway, I-
I quite like him.
Time, 24 hours in a day.
One-thousand-four-hundred
and forty minutes
for somebody else to get busy
on the same idea as ours.
We ought to have got a plane
and flown out,
as I said from the start.
You remember I said it,
O'Horror.
My name is not O'Horror.
It is O'Hara. You hear?
Mr. O'Hara.
Yes, Mr. O'Horror, ahem,
but you remember I said it.
I said we ought
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"Beat the Devil" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/beat_the_devil_3755>.
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