Ministry Of Fear Page #4

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and still you don't trust me.

Why did you say you told fortunes at Lembridge?

Why? Because I did.

I was there.

You weren't the one who told mine.

Oh! That female battleship...

with the moons and stars?

- That's the one.

- She was some Lembridge woman.

She wanted to keep the booth open

after I left and practice her palmistry.

Well, she did, and I got the cake.

I suppose you don't know about that either.

Of course.

But how did you get it?

- What was in it?

- I don't know.

Was there supposed to be something in it?

That's the truth.

The lady in the cake booth...

asked me to let her gentleman friend win it.

If someone came to me and said,

"Don't bother about the past.

Tell me the future,"

I was to give him the correct weight.

- Did you say that?

- Something like it.

Oh, well, that explains it.

Now are you happy?

I've got exactly nowhere.

- Neither have I.

- [ Doorknob Rattles ]

Come in, Martha.

Police! Help!

Murder! Police! Police!

- She would.

- I'll keep the gun.

To remember me by?

You might need it.

You should know.

Won't I see you again?

Yes.

[ Door Opens ]

Oh, there you are.

I was worried about you last night.

- That was a pasting.

- I know.

I got caught in it.

What's this?

A housecleaning?

It's going to be.

We've been patriotically

slaving for three years...

to help a spy ring.

What? Oh, nonsense!

Here. Look at these.

"Adamson." Never heard of him.

"Aiken."

Both recommended

by Dr. Forrester.

- "Alpock."

- Dr. Forrester.

- "Cost."

- Newby, Penteel.

All those at the sance.

All recommended by Dr. Forrester.

And he works for the Ministry of Home Security.

- How did these get in our files?

- I don't know.

Get Mrs. Merrick in here.

[ Buzzer Sounds ]

Yes?

Do you know how these cards got here?

"Mr. Aiken." Oh, yes.

I remember filing him.

His name struck me as so odd.

This is one of the batches you mailed me.

- I mailed you?

- Yes, from Kent...

while you were on your holidays last year.

- I've never seen them before.

- Oh, but I'm sure, Miss Hilfe.

They're just as you always send them

from meetings and such.

I, uh-- I may be wrong.

Thank you, Mrs. Merrick.

Oh, not at all.

They even know how we mail our cards.

They're Nazis, Willi. I know it.

The same as they were in Austria.

It's the way they work-- all around you...

knowing about everybody, everything--

where to find you.

- That night they hunted us--

- Carla.

Not the old fear again?

We aren't there now.

- But they're here, in London.

- You're imagining too much.

Something's going on...

but you can't charge people with being Nazis...

just because they belong to a--

to a charity...

especially an advisor to the Ministry.

- The police would laugh at us.

- That is what I told Stephen, at first.

- Stephen?

- Mr. Neale.

He's the one that thought of searching

the cards, and he was right.

I'm going to show them to him.

Wait a minute.

How did you get in touch with him?

He telephoned for you.

He's safe now.

I took him to the bookshop where I hid Maria.

- I wish you hadn't done that.

- Why not? You're helping him.

Yes, I know.

But I'd rather you didn't get mixed up with him.

But why, Willi?

You don't think he killed that man, Cost?

I didn't... then.

I've checked up on him. He was

sentenced for murder two years ago.

He told me.

But it wasn't murder.

Even the court called it a mercy killing.

And you still want to help him?

Yes.

You're not, uh, falling in love

with him, by any chance?

Yes...

very much.

I can go to the Ministry of Home Security...

at least try to tell them.

They'd suspect you before anyone else.

It's your organization. You're aliens.

You can't take that chance.

We took longer chances than this in Austria.

You're not afraid?

- Yes.

- Good.

So am I.

When I left Lembridge,

I told Dr. Morton...

I was coming to London to spend a quiet life.

It's been like riding

down the side of a whirlpool.

From what you say about the Ministry...

Willi and I are only a half turn behind you.

We'll get out of it, all right...

even if I have to drown

some of these Free Mothers first.

- You wouldn't object?

- No.

Someday, when I get back to that quiet life, I--

I want to ask you

if you'd be interested in it too.

Willi asked me

if I was falling in love with you.

And?

I said... yes.

[ Phone Ringing ]

Newland's Bookshop.

Oh, Dr. Forrester.

A pleasure to hear from you, sir.

I've found a set for you.

Oxford Medicine, by Christian.

Nineteen volumes.

Is that correct?

Tonight?

I don't know.

You're quite far out.

Oh, here? Just a moment.

Regal...

Court...

flat...

twenty-nine.

Has the porter a key?

Right. I'll have it there

before blackout time.

Miss Hilfe, did you hear that?

Yes.

Nineteen volumes!

Are you two going out

to get some dinner tonight?

- We'll drop them off for you.

- Would you?

Thank you very much.

A book is all right for mental stimulation...

but if there's anything I loathe,

it's struggling about the streets...

with great quantities of print.

You spoke of the porter.

Won't the doctor be there?

No. He's out at his nursing home.

Has a collection of maniacs he psychoanalyzes.

It's Regal Court, flat 29.

The porter will let you in.

Put them anywhere.

And please don't forget my valise.

Leather's hard to get.

All right.

Thank heaven for youth and strength.

[ Man ]

Twenty-nine? Yes, sir.

Mr. Travers left orders

to let you in.

"Travers"?

But these are for Dr. Forrester.

You must be wrong, sir.

We haven't any Dr. Forrester.

But 29 is right,

and Mr. Travers is expecting books.

We have had some incorrect names, sir,

where a gentleman has a hideout from his wife...

but those gentlemen were not

spending their time with books.

- There you are, sir.

- Thank you.

Not at all, sir.

"Travers," eh?

[ Neale ]

He needs a few books!

Nobody lives here.

No cigarettes, no personal belongings, nothing.

The line's dead.

We'll save Mr. Newland's leather

and get out of this place.

[ Fuse Hissing ]

Awake, eh?

You've been hard to find,

Mr. Neale.

Who was the girl?

- What girl?

- That went into the flat with you.

- I was alone.

- You were when we found you.

- The porter saw her go in.

- That's very interesting.

A mysterious girl.

I don't see her, and you don't...

but the porter does.

Did you kill her too?

You're much better at that occupation...

with your bombs in suitcases.

Oh, now it's my bomb, eh?

Or one of your Nazi friends.

Nazis, bombs.

They shouldn't have let you

out of that asylum, Mr. Neale.

- We ought to have a record of all this.

- I've said all I have to say.

You'll say quite a bit more

before you leave here.

[ Mock Chuckle ]

And just where am I?

Scotland Yard.

- Where'd you think?

- [ Door Opens ]

Inspector.

Stephen Neale.

Questioning by Inspector Prentice.

File number 2H-LJ-14.

Charge:
murder.

I didn't kill him.

- Who didn't you kill?

- Cost, at Mrs. Bellane's place.

We haven't heard about that one.

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