Man in the Attic Page #6

- Well, Mr. Slade-

Oh, it's all mixed up.

And I'm not supposed to say.

Mr. Harley says

it's just woman's hysteria.

Wait a minute.

- Good evening, Inspector Warwick.

- Oh, good evening, sir.

- You've come for Lily?

- Yes.

Perhaps a nip of sherry

will help us pass the time.

Mr. Harley...

what is this about Slade?

Helen's been at you, has she?

Well, no. As a matter of fact,

Daisy mentioned it.

Look here, old man. Everything about Slade

can be logically explained.

Except one thing.

The dog's suddenly gone sour on him.

Still, that doesn't

prove anything, does it?

You'd better tell me

about it, Mr. Harley.

I tell you this, Lily.

No matter what you say...

I don't believe you ought to spend

too much time alone with him.

Aunt Helen.

Dear, sweet Aunt Helen.

What if I were to tell you that it was

Mr. Slade who was in danger, not I?

Why, Lily!

I think this thing

can be settled tonight.

This is a copy of a thumbprint

the Ripper left in the room...

- of Mary Lenihan, the last victim.

- Thumbprint?

There's a theory that there are no two

fingerprints in the world that are exactly alike.

- I happen to subscribe to it.

- Hmm.

Could you get me something

that Slade has held in his right hand?

A glass or something?

Well, frankly, I don't know.

Mr. Harley, wouldn't you

feel more secure if we cleared it up?

Yes, I suppose so.

The fact is, the fellow's gone out.

We might try

looking about his room.

Well, that would be fine.

I rather hate to, you know.

Prying into a man's belongings.

Mr. Harley.

Yes.

Helen tells me Mr. Slade

frequently reads the Bible.

Murderers don't read Bibles, do they?

There might be some prints here.

I'd like to take something smaller-

something he wouldn't immediately miss.

Oh, this will do.

Now something more.

Locked, eh?

I say, should you do that, old man?

A policeman never knows

what he should do...

until it's proved to be the right thing.

Oh, this probably has both prints.

Handkerchief.

- I say-

- I'll bring it back... and your handkerchief.

Don't fuss, Aunt Helen.

Gentlemen don't mind walting for ladles.

They're qulte used to It.

- What do we do?

- Shh.

- Do you have everything, dear?

- Yes, Auntle. Stop worrylng.

Well, I can't help It.

There's something In the alr tonlght.

She's feeling things again.

I thought Mr. Slade had gone out.

There's a Ilght In here.

- What is this?

- I'm sorry, Miss Bonner.

You've been snooping

through Mr. Slade's things.

Very well. There's been a mystery

about this gentleman...

and I wish to clear it up

once and for all.

I'm quite tired of this.

Why don't you leave the poor man alone?

- He went out early to avold meeting you.

- Oh? Where did he go?

He'll be at the theater later

to see me.

Perhaps you can

hang him there.

I merely want

to ask some questions.

- What did you find ofhis?

- I found this.

- That's his mother.

- His mother?

Of course.

He told me about her.

Poor woman. She died an alcoholic

in the slums of Whitechapel.

What else did he tell you?

He seemed quite confused

about his feelings for her-

love and resentment

all mixed up together.

Please, Paul,

leave the poor man alone.

You defend him with quite a lot

of spirit, Miss Bonner.

I know him better than any of you.

I like him. I feel sorry for him.

As a friend, I should like to respect

your fondness for Mr. Slade...

but I am also a policeman.

You most certainly are.

You needn't bother to take me

to the theater tonight.

Good night, Inspector.

- If I may say so, sir-

- And if I said you may not say it?

Then I wouldn't, sir.

- If I may ask, sir-

- Bates.

If it seems to you I'm in a nasty mood tonight,

you're right, and I have cause.

No, you may not ask.

You may not say so.

You may do absolutely nothing

except breathe quietly.

Yes, sir.

Nothing matches, and every print

of his right hand is here.

- It's not Slade, that's all.

- Sir-

This print couldn't have been made

by the Ripper's left hand.

Not unless every detective

at the yard is wrong.

That's most unlikely,

isn't it, sir?

The victim's cuts show that

the Ripper used his knife...

from right to left across the throat

while attacking from behind.

That means he used

his left hand.

He took his victims like this.

The cut of the knife was like this.

Sir, have you observed

Mr. Slade to be left-handed?

No, I haven't.

But he could still

use his left hand...

if he attacked from behind.

You know, for the first time

it occurs to me...

that the Ripper need not

have attacked from behind.

In which case, he could make the same cut

from the front with his right hand.

- Yes, sir.

- If that's so, we must find a left thumbprint...

to match the print of the Ripper's.

About that portrait, sir-

I have a peculiar memory for faces.

- You do?

- Yes, sir.

I believe that to be

the face of Ann Lawrence.

Even to the mole

on the left cheek.

Bates, you're right. Slade's mother

was the first Ripper victim.

Where is Slade?

Have you seen him?

Yes, he's right down there.

He's gone.

Lovely, lovely.

You were lovely.

- They liked us, didn't they?

- They worshipped you.

Excuse me.

- Am I under arrest, Mr. Policeman?

- Where is Slade?

Inspector Warwick,

I'm very sick of all this.

- He's the Ripper.

- Oh, do go away. You're out of your mind.

Lelah, I don't want you

to let anyone in.

There's a gentleman

in here, Miss Lily.

Hello.

May I... talk to you alone?

I have to make a change.

Uh, there isn't much time.

All right, Lelah.

Please.

Well, how did you like the show?

You are exquisite, Lily.

Good. For a moment, I thought you disliked

the whole thing. You looked so glum.

I hated it. I hated your beauty

being exposed for everyone to ogle.

I hated the looks on men's faces.

Well, without those looks

on their faces, I'd be finished.

You're more wonderful and more-

more sweetly beautiful

than anyone I've ever known.

Everything in my life

has changed because of you.

Help me.

Help me.

You pick the strangest moments.

I need you, Lily.

Only you can save me.

- Save you?

- Come away with me right now.

Come away with me-

anywhere in the world you say.

I want to live close to you

without sharing you.

Close. Close.

I think there's something

you should understand.

I'm fond of you,

but I'm not ready to be taken over.

I Ilke a man wlth passlon, but I don't want

a slave, and I don't want to be one.

Besides, I wouldn't dream

of giving up the theater.

All I've said makes no difference to you.

I didn't say that.

You want to go on exciting men

to wanting you...

go on using your beauty

to corrupt, to degrade.

- Please.

- You're mocking me!

Miss Llly?

The same as my mother.

The same as all of them.

- Miss Llly, are you all rlght?

- Mocking love, living for lust.

You are evil.

Your beauty is evil.

It must be cut away.

No. No.

You said you loved me.

Please.

Miss Llly?

Miss Llly?

Miss Llly, are you all rlght?

Lily!

Are you all right?

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