Libel Page #4

And that these petty acts

of spitefulness have culminated

in the publication

of a gross libel

which you do not choose to ignore.

No, I do not.

Thank you, Sir Mark.

I think that's all.

I suggest that ever since April 1945

you've indulged in the unscrupulous

pretense of being an English baronet.

That's a stupid lie.

And most unscrupulous pretense of all

of being entitled to woo

and marry your wife.

You won't make me lose my temper

as easily as that, Mr. Foxley.

We shall see. Now then.

When did you last see Frank Welney?

Whom did you say, Mr. Foxley?

Frank Welney, My Lord.

You at least have heard of Frank Welney?

Yes.

- I was with him in a German prison camp.

- When did you last see him?

Let me help you.

Did you shave yourself this morning?

Yes, why?

Didn't you see him then?

Really My Lord, is it necessary from

my friend to be so deliberately offensive?

I think you must Let him pursue

his own mind, Mr. Wilfred.

- Have he any peculiarities?

- No, he was a very ordinary man.

Wasn't he remarkably like you?

- I never noticed it.

- I see, you never noticed, no...

Well now then I wonder if you know

whether Sir Mark ever wrote to anybody

about this similarity?

Did I? No, certainly not.

Do you recognize the handwriting

on this letter?

- Yes, I do.

- It's yours.

- Of course, it is my signature, right?

- It's signed, Mark Loddon.

It's a page of a letter written by

Sir Mark Loddon

from the prison camp in Germany

and contains pertinent information.

Would you please read it

to the jury?

There are only two other

British prisoners in our hut here.

A chap called Buckenham

from Canada, and a

man called Welney, from

heaven knows where.

Proceed please.

Welney himself says we might be brothers.

He says it makes him feel like

one of the family.

"Feel like one of the family."

Doesn't that letter recall

anything to you?

"One of the family."

Yes.

Yes, it does.

It was a day that Buckenham

was giving out the mail.

Here chap.

Sorry, not you.

Ed.

George.

- Letter for you Andr.

- Merci!

Letter for you, Mark?

Hey, that's not yours.

All right, all right,

you boring Canadian lumberjack.

Just remember you gave it to me.

You know it damn well

because I thought...

Thought I was Mark, didn't you?

Ah, there you are. I'm

frightfully sorry old

chap, our lumberjack

friend made a mistake.

He thought that I was you.

I opened it without even reading it.

You were reading it as quick as

you darn well could.

That's just exactly a kind of remark

I would've expected from you.

Shut up, you two!

I'll hit him if I stay here.

He really is impossible, that chap.

So uncouth.

I just wish we could have have him

transferred to another hut.

Jeff's a very good friend of mine.

If it wasn't for him, I would have been

off my head years ago.

You don't think I was deliberately

reading your letter, do you?

No, of course not.

I'm glad of that Mark.

You don't mind me calling you Mark, do

you? It's rather presumptuous of me.

It's a bit silly after 3 years,

wouldn't it?

Yes.

You see it's so frightfully good

to talk to you Mark.

You understand people.

I'm quite sure that lumberjack

just said that I was...

a little snob sucking up to you.

Oh, don't be silly.

I realize perfectly well

compared to you,

I'm absolute nothing,

I am just a...

provincial actor, small parts.

No background, no standing.

But what's a chap to do?

One can't get on in the theater these days

unless one is in with the right people.

Talent is I am afraid is really,

not all together enough.

And I am quite talented.

Well, perhaps you'll have better luck

when we get out.

I certainly mean to get on.

I assure you that.

Mark, I am sorry about the letter.

It was from your fiancee,

wasn't it?

I saw her name on the envelope.

Or does one say, envelope

in your accent.

I don't think it matters why?

One doesn't want to make mistakes.

Would you give her my regards

when you write?

You and I being so like each other

at least people say we are.

Almost makes me feel like

one of the family.

It just goes to show, doesn't it

how easily some people can be mistaken.

Can they?

I am lucky enough to...

have here an official description

of Welney from the army records,

"Thick, crop of grey hair."

How would you describe yours?

Mr. Foxley, what is

the date of that document?

The year 1939.

Supposing a man's hair had not

been grey then

surely it could have turned grey

after all these year.

I am aware of that, My Lord.

Indeed it hadn't largely disappeared.

It has for so many of us.

But it is also on record that

Frank Welney

has lost the first two joints of the

first finger of his right hand.

Have you? - Would you please hold

up your right hand to the jury?

May I ask how you lost your finger?

- It was shot off during the escape.

- How very convenient.

So that would produce the interesting

result that no one in the prison camp

could remember that Sir Mark Loddon

had lost his finger.

Naturally.

- But I do.

- Thank you.

And so today by another

remarkable coincidence

your body combines all the physical

peculiarities of both Welney and Loddon.

So it would appear.

When did you say you last saw Welney?

I repeat the question.

When did you last see Frank Welney?

It was during the escape.

Was anyone else a party

to the escape?

Yes.

Buckenham.

Would you please tell us

exactly what happened?

Well, we...

we started away from...

from the camp...

We were making our way

to the Dutch border.

Hiding by day and walking by night.

We had very little food,

and not much sleep.

One night we...

we came to the outskirts

of a town.

All right, they have gone.

I could eat a horse.

Better go and find one.

We'd not eaten for 3 days.

And Buckenham...

Yes, Buckenham?

Well there was...

there was a...

a kind of farm across the field.

So we decided

amongst ourselves that...

one of us ought to go

and find something.

And I wanted to...

but you said no, because I was

the only one in British uniform

and anyway you were

the youngest.

You?

Do you mean Mr. Buckenham?

Oh, I'm sorry. Yes.

Then he left us.

And eh...

And then?

Welney and I...

were left to wait for him.

You were alone together.

Yes.

We were alone together.

And then?

And then...

Yes? And then?

There was a mist.

And water moving.

Pulling and waving.

And Buckenham crawling away.

Something... in the water.

- And Welney.

- And Welney?

What about Welney?

What about Welney?

Witness!

What happened to Welney?

I can't remember.

So you can't remember.

How very interesting.

I can't remember!

I've told you. I can't remember

anything after that.

It's not because I don't want remember

because I can't.

I remember a mist.

I remember water.

And Buckenham, crawling away.

That is all!

Silence!

You made a great deal of this

loss of memory.

Even if it isn't so complete.

How is it possible for you to remember

your pre-war engagement,

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