Man in the Attic Page #4

- the police were looking for a man with a bag.

- I see.

- Oh, is that all you can say?

- Very sensible of him.

- What?

- I said, very sensible of him.

Nobody can afford to own

a bag like that now.

Come here.

A man was mobbed this morning

in Trafalgar Square. They nearly tore him to pieces.

Why? Because he was carrying

a little black bag. This is my black bag.

I didn't burn it because

I didn't think of it. I just hid it in here.

Anyone who owns such a bag

is under suspicion.

The whole city has become hysterical.

People are flocking to the police

to inform on their neighbors.

Do we have to have this

nonsense in our own home?

If Slade wanted to be rid of his bag...

he wouldn't leave that

around for you to find.

The man isn't a fool.

You're just a little

overwrought, that's all, old girl.

How about a spot of sherry?

I think you better have one too, Daisy.

Oh, I don't mind if I do, sir.

I rather wish we could

talk again sometime.

You've done something good for me.

Then perhaps you will

have tea with me.

- Tomorrow?

- I'd be delighted.

Thank you, Miss Bonner.

Hello, Chief.

We're in trouble.

A meeting has been called.

The high commissioner resigned

this morning, and Her Majesty accepted.

- Resigned?

- Too much pressure on the Ripper case.

If we could find a fingerprint-

Fingerprints?

That won't help.

I know that theory-

No two prints alike.

It's nonsense.

No, we'll have to do better than that, Paul,

or we'll have no jobs.

Perhaps you could

put aside your social life...

and help us do something

about the Rlpper, eh?

Yes, sir.

Must you stop?

If I must choose between music and you,

l- I will choose you.

More tea?

Yes, thank you.

Do you enjoy

Robert Browning's poetry?

Sometimes.

Depends on my mood.

I read this author

or that one as I feel like it.

I like to pretend

that it was all written for me.

Perhaps it was.

Every so often, a woman lives

for whom men do all things.

I'm only a woman

like any other.

Not like any other.

You don't know, Miss Bonner,

about the others.

Are you saying that you like me?

Miss Bonner, it has done me

great good to know you.

It has? How?

Oh, I- I'm afraid it's a long

and very personal story...

and I should dislike

troubling you with it.

I already know.

You are a man very much alone...

and you need to find

those who will love you.

And when you do,

you won't be lonely anymore.

Those who will love me?

Is it really true

that you dislike actresses?

I seem to have touched on

an old wound. I'm sorry.

No!

Yes. I wlll tell you.

My mother was an actress.

She was one of the most angellcally

beautlful women who ever Ilved-

exquisitely graceful,

talented and captivating.

I loved her deeply.

Deeply.

She had the face ofheaven...

and the wretched heart of Jezebel.

For every aspect of beauty

she possessed...

she contained

a double portion of evil.

- I hated her.

- But I thought you said you loved her.

One can love the beauty

and hate the evil.

Didn't you know that, Miss Bonner?

Come.

I will show you.

I didn't mean to do this,

but now I've begun, I will finish.

I will show you this face,

and you will see for yourself...

that there was no way for

my poor father to know...

that she was cunning

and faithless and rotten.

It's not difficult to understand

that my father fell in love with her.

Perhaps she never met a man

she didn't entice.

She knew no love, only lust.

She betrayed my father

a hundred times...

and when she finally left him

for a young, rich Frenchman...

- my father killed himself.

- Oh.

Not with a gun,

with absinthe-

with a thousand

green glasses of absinthe.

Part of my growing up

was spent with a drunken man...

who searched the face of every

passing girl in Paris-

who spent 10 years

dying of a broken heart.

And your mother?

Did you never see her again?

Yes.

Yes, I saw her.

She had become

a woman of the streets.

And it was in the streets

that she died.

Then they must be

In Mr. Slade's room.

Lily.

Excuse me, Mr. Slade.

- Inspector Warwick is here to see Lily.

- I forgot.

I, on the other hand,

did not forget, and here I am.

Mr. Slade.

We're going to the Black Museum

at Scotland Yard. Would you like to come along?

Is it all right if Mr. Slade

comes with us?

I don't believe Mr. Slade

would really enjoy himself.

Do come.

Yes. Yes, I believe

I'd like to come.

I'll bejust a moment.

And these are the death masks

of various murderers.

That one was publlcly hanged

outside Newgate Prison slx months ago.

You can see the rope marks on the neck.

You treat them like trophies-

like a stuffed elk head

mounted over the fireplace.

Yes, a little. But these were

more dangerous than an elk.

- Man, unfortunately,

is the most dangerous of all beasts.

- Man is not beast.

Murderers are beasts.

There are the ropes that were actually

used to hang these men.

To me, it's the noose

that's the wickedest looking.

It hangs so calmly,

making a graceful loop, neatly tied-

a simple deslgn, by which

a man's breath Is caught...

and forfelted for his crime.

I'm afraid I'm making

Mr. Slade a little queasy.

If you'd prefer

to wait for us outside-

It's not the rope. It's your policeman's

philosophy, Inspector Warwick.

Perhaps I'm too used to murder.

I must seem callous.

Miss Bonner, I have

a question to ask you.

Just one?

I have dozens to ask you.

- You too?

- Yes.

For instance,

what was that used for?

Oh, that was used

in the Tufnell Park murder.

And would you come Friday

for tea at my home?

- I'd Ilke some frlends to meet you.

- Hmm, I see.

What was that used for,

Inspector Warwlck?

That is a poker, with which some poor chap

beat his sweetheart to death.

- Why did he do it?

- We never found out exactly,

but my belief at this moment...

is that she failed to answer

some perfectly simple question...

like "Will you come to tea?"

Very well, Inspector. I'll come.

That table is expressly reserved

for one murderer.

The Rlpper?

Those are plctures of the five victims.

Ah, there you are, Paul.

I wanted to pay my compliments

to our distinguished and beautiful visitor.

May I present Chief Inspector Melville,

Miss Bonner.

- How do you do?

- How do you do, Miss Bonner?

- And Mr. Slade.

- Mr. Slade.

I've been to the palace,

Miss Bonner...

where I heard Prince Edward say the most

complimentary things about you.

- Why, thank you.

- Also, I was told that Her Majesty has decided...

that the Ripper can't

possibly be an Englishman.

Now I suppose we shall have to

investigate all foreigners.

Not long ago, we were

to investigate all bachelors...

because he couldn't

possibly be a married man.

Has Paul told you that he's our expert

on Jack the Ripper?

He even clalms to be able to predict

the time of each murder.

There is a strange periodicity

to the Ripper's crimes.

It's as if the need to kill surges inside of him

up to a peak, is satisfied...

and then Is qulet untll the compulsion slowly

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes