Ministry Of Fear Page #3

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You might knock me out.

Go ahead.

It's a good alibi.

But get away from London.

Well, I've never said "thank you"

this way before.

[ Children Chattering ]

[ Bell Tolling ]

[ Phone Ringing ]

Mothers of the Free Nations.

Mr. Neale?

This is Carla Hilfe.

Is your brother there?

No. There's a fte at Bloomsbury.

He wanted to see if there was anything--

anything like Lembridge.

- He told you what happened?

- Yes.

He said the police didn't hold any

of the others. They're searching for you.

[ Chuckles ]

I can imagine.

Where will you hide?

I don't know yet.

I thought I had a place...

but it seems my unknown friends got there first.

Where are you now?

Longacre and Bend?

Wait there for me.

[ Air Raid Siren Wailing ]

[ Man ]

Come along.

Keep off the streets.

Down in the Tube.

There's the entrance.

[ Man ]

Clear the streets, please.

I was afraid you'd be gone.

The air raid.

- I would have waited.

- I know a place.

We can't get through now.

A girl I helped out of Austria...

hid there until I got

her papers straightened out.

Down to the Tube, please. Come along.

We expect them over at any moment.

This way, please.

[ Siren Continues Wailing ]

- It's hot, isn't it?

- Yes.

- Carla.

- What?

I wonder if you realize what it means...

to stand all alone on a dark corner...

knowing that somewhere one person

is coming towards you to help.

Yes.

It was that way the first night

I stepped off the boat...

in England.

It changed things.

I thought at first I could let you help

without telling you the truth, but--

You didn't kill him?

No. Not Cost.

I was sentenced here in London

two years ago... for murder.

What the voice said at the sance.

- Your brother told you?

- Yes.

"Murderer."

Perhaps I was, if thinking of the thing...

for months before you do it makes you one.

Lying awake every night thinking of it...

until at last you go out and buy the drug.

I bought it to kill my wife.

She'd been ill for more than a year,

slowly wasting away.

She couldn't stand the pain any longer...

and the doctors couldn't help her.

We'd come all the way

from her plantation in Africa...

and the doctors couldn't do a thing.

She begged me then, day after day.

I got the drug for her...

carried it home.

Then I couldn't go through with it.

I hid it in a drawer...

and she found it.

I didn't know until just before she died.

The pain was gone then.

She smiled...

and held my hand while she fell asleep.

I sat there for hours holding her hand...

watching the clock.

Then it was dawn...

and there wasn't any more pain.

The court called it a mercy killing.

Sent me to an asylum.

I wasn't mad, you see...

but the law called for it.

I don't know if I was right even now.

Anyway, you know.

Yes.

- It makes a difference?

- No.

I'd still like to help.

What?

He was the one at Rennit's office.

[ Subway Rumbling ]

[ Brakes Screeching ]

[ "All Clear" Siren Sounding ]

All clear.

What time is it?

Almost 5:
00.

Did you sleep?

I thought our friend

with the fingernails might come back.

You won't need to worry where I'm taking you.

Let's leave.

Here we are.

Not a word.

No murder, no Bellane, nothing.

- Why would the police keep it quiet?

- I don't know, but they have.

Probably want to keep me happy.

Ah, Miss Hilfe. Come in.

Come in.

I'm sorry to disturb you

so early, Mr. Newland...

but I had to see you.

You don't visit me often enough.

And who is this young man?

- Mr. Neale. Mr. Newland.

- How do you do?

In trouble, eh?

Come along.

You are very lucky, Mr. Neale...

having this young lady for a friend.

She's always helping people.

- You aren't Austrian?

- No, British.

He has to hide for a few weeks.

He isn't guilty,

but the police are looking for him.

Fine, fine.

The room where Maria stayed, eh?

- Do you mind?

- Not at all.

- [ Carla ] What is it?

- Noticed a book here--

The Psychoanalysis of Nazidom,

by Dr. Forrester.

That's selling very well.

Bring a copy along, if you'd like.

- Thank you. I will.

- Who is Dr. Forrester?

He's a psychiatrist.

Getting quite famous here.

Sort of advisor

to the Ministry of Home Security.

Writes propaganda.

Interesting fellow too.

Purchases books from me now and then.

Here you are.

- [ Bell Jangles ]

- Customers!

Sometimes I loathe people who like to read.

Customers.

"Ministry for Home Security."

That's a nice place to be an advisor--

at the heart of Britain's defense system.

- You don't think he's a--

- He's a friend of Mrs. Bellane's...

and Cost wasn't after that cake

because he was hungry.

But that doesn't make the doctor a spy...

just because he went to a sance,

any more than you or Willi.

I wonder if they're listed in your volunteers.

Oh. Now the Mothers

of the Free Nations....

are turning into a spy ring.

Next you'll have me one.

No. You don't look like one.

Well, you can forget it. Willi and I

have run that office for three years.

And your dear old dowagers.

I know.

But Mrs. Bellane was listed.

Why not some of the others?

Dr. Forrester, Cost,

Newby, Miss Penteel?

The artist?

Was she there?

You know her?

I've never met her, but...

she has a studio in the Old Arts Centre.

She auctioned off some paintings for us.

The volunteer?

Yes.

I'm going back to the office and look

through every card in our files.

- Still angry?

- Of course.

A woman always hates to be wrong.

Good.

Will you have dinner with me tonight?

I'll meet you here.

[ Doorbell Chiming ]

Well, Mr. Neale.

You do get about.

I was just thinking the same.

Aren't you afraid of the police?

When they're nearby, yes.

It'd be a shame if they found you there.

The building has a bad enough reputation.

Won't you come in?

- Going to hold a sance here?

- No.

The last one was quite enough

for a while, thanks to you.

- You don't trust me?

- No.

- Where's Miss Penteel?

- Shopping. It's just as well.

You frightened her to death once already.

Won't you sit down?

Whiskey and soda?

Thank you.

What did you have

against Mr. Cost?

I didn't kill him, and you know it.

You're most attractive when you're lying.

I'd even enjoy hearing you say

you were interested in me.

I am.

How did you know about me?

That microphone, or whatever it was.

I always try to frighten people

the first time they come to a sance.

They love it. I never thought

it would make you start shooting.

How did you know about me?

Your trial testimony was in all the papers...

and my assistants keep

an excellent file on people.

They couldn't have looked me up

as quickly as all that.

You'd be surprised.

You surprise me continually.

Did it ever occur to you

that some women like affection...

even better than conversation?

So do some men...

if they're sure they're not

going to be shot any moment.

Take the bullets out of it if you want to.

I only carry it for protection.

You don't miss much.

I seem to be missing a lot today.

You're a strange person.

I tell you all my trade secrets,

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