Murder Is Easy Page #8
- Year:
- 1982
- 90 min
- 1,211 Views
had done it.
Why, Bridget,
what's the matter?
Nothing, I'm fine.
Oh, dear,
I've upset you.
What about a nice walk?
Do us both good.
A walk?
Yes, Luke won't be finished
for a while yet.
That should give me
just enough time.
Lord Easterfield looks guilty,
all right.
But then, perhaps that's
precisely what someone is after,
someone who'll find it
profitable
to get Lord Easterfield
out of the way,
even to see him dead.
If there were such a person,
why would they kill
all those people?
Why not just kill
Easterfield?
Too risky.
Especially if the person
were someone
close to Lord Easterfield.
Oh.
Well, then,
perhaps we should, uh...
question Miss Bridget Conway.
I'm sure she'll come up
with some answers for us.
No!
You know,
Miss Waynflete,
you may be
on to something
about Gordon
and the murders.
For some of them must have taken
some quite brilliant planning,
to say nothing of nerve.
Yes, you do see.
Take Amy, for example.
She certainly wouldn't
have let Gordon
put a needle in her arm.
Oh, but there are
other ways
to kill a person
with heroin.
I read up on it.
Afterwards.
Did you?
How very thorough of you.
And, Bridget...
surely it can't have been
a simple matter
in Dr. Humbleby.
Of course, Gordon could have
learned of such things
from his visit
to the laboratory.
She died long before Gordon
went to that laboratory.
Are we to believe
that he really knew
how to poison
those grapes himself?
What grapes?
Why, the grapes he sent
from his hothouse.
You took them
to Lydia yourself,
didn't you, Bridget?
Yes, so I did.
Wasn't aware you knew that,
Miss Waynflete.
You must tell me
what else you know.
[DOORBELL RINGS]
[]
[INAUDIBLE DIALOGUE]
[INAUDIBLE DIALOGUE]
Why so silent,
Miss Waynflete?
I'm waiting
to hear the rest.
I don't know any more.
I don't really know
anything.
It's all just speculation.
Probably quite foolish.
Foolish?
Oh, no, you were
never foolish.
You're quite clever.
In fact, maybe almost
as clever as the killer.
I don't think you realize
what you're saying.
You look foolish enough,
all right.
Proper Miss Waynflete,
in her proper little gloves.
You wear them everywhere,
don't you?
Bridget,
you must stop this.
Why do you walk
through the fields in gloves
O fat white woman
who nobody loves?
[LAUGHS]
Where did I hear that? I can't
remember, but it fits you perfectly,
because nobody does love you,
Miss Waynflete.
Nobody does
and nobody ever will.
Please.
You think Gordon did,
but you're wrong.
You never had him.
You never had anyone
or anything.
Except that cleverness
of yours.
And that cleverness could get
you into trouble.
Couldn't it,
Miss Waynflete?
[BOTH GRUNTING]
Bridget!
Bridget!
Bridget!
Bridget!
You almost made it,
didn't you?
Didn't you?
Or did you already
get Easterfield,
like everybody else?
[LAUGHING]
[SCREAMING]
I say...
What's he doing
to Miss Waynflete?
BRIDGET:
She's admitted everything?
REED:
Admitted it, yes, Miss.
And she wouldn't be
satisfied
till she'd given us
every detail.
Yes, it was awful.
She was so proud
of her cleverness.
I know.
I tried to play on that
to get a confession out of her,
and she was going
to tell me...
just before killing me.
That was to be your final crime,
Gordon, killing me, because...
I was leaving you.
That's why she asked you
to meet her
in the meadow at midday,
I suppose.
You were to be found there
with my body...
And your dagger.
But how on earth did she get
hold of my dagger?
Oh, she stole it
this morning, off the table.
It still had
your fingerprints on it.
Of course.
Her proper little gloves.
Poor Honoria,
those rages of hers.
Do you know, she once killed
her own pet canary,
just 'cause it pecked her.
I simply couldn't feel the same
about her after that.
Then it was you that
broke off the engagement?
BRIDGET:
I told you how tenderhearted he is.
When you reported to me
I knew Miss Waynflete
must be lying...
to make Gordon look guilty.
Smart girl. -It's really
just a matter of knowing
a little about
human nature, Luke.
Perhaps that's why
your famous computer
couldn't come up
with the right answer.
No, don't blame the computer.
I didn't program Miss Waynflete
as a suspect.
Oh, don't feel badly
about it, Mr., um, Williams.
No, she even took me in.
Had me convinced
that the Almighty
was wreaking vengeance
on all my enemies.
It isn't altogether
a bad theory.
But what I don't
understand is this:
How did my Rolls
come to be identified
as the car that
bowled over Miss Fullerton?
BRIDGET:
Because I had the Rolls on Derby Day.
That's why I knew
it couldn't be you, Gordon.
And you bashed the fender?
Miss Waynflete knew
Miss Fullerton was
on to her,
so she followed her
to London.
She saw her chance
and pushed Miss Fullerton
under a passing car.
The driver of the car
failed to stop,
so she simply gave
your license number
to a man in the crowd.
But how did she manage
all the other murders?
Some are obvious,
but what about Humbleby,
for example?
Now, when Humbleby went
to visit her,
Miss Waynflete
ran her scissors
into his right hand
and then insisted on
bandaging it.
But first, she infected
the bandage
with discharge
from Wonky Pooh's ear.
Good Lord.
If you'll forgive me.
BRIDGET:
And the others?
She, uh... She killed
Lydia Horton
with garden spray
on the grapes,
little by little.
And then, the night that
Amy came home from London,
Miss Waynflete...
brought her a nice cup of tea,
loaded with heroin.
REED:
Imagine the old witch doing all that
just because his lordship
jilted her so long ago.
All for revenge.
Yes.
Her one master-passion
swallowed up the rest.
Uh, beg your pardon, sir?
Uh, Essay on Man, epistle two.
Oh, yes.
But it is hard to believe
that so much love
could turn
into so much hate.
Is it?
[]
Excuse me.
I must go to Gordon.
We have returned
to the use of the bicycle
in the interest of economy,
environment,
and, if I may say so, sir,
efficient policing.
Gordon's already
hard at work
on his next series
of articles:
"Famous Female Criminals
Throughout the Ages."
He says he's far too busy a man
for marriage, anyway.
Good.
Does that mean
you're going with me?
How could I possibly
go off with a man
who thinks me capable
of murder?
And loves you anyway.
I guess I just couldn't believe
that I could get that lucky.
To have what I want.
To have you.
Too improbable for you?
Well, at least you know
the worst about me.
That ought to count
for something.
Do I?
No more questions?
No more curiosities?
[SIGHS]
All right.
Where did you go
on Derby Day?
I went to see Johnny.
-Johnny? You're kidding.
I thought he was no good,
He was, he did.
I just wanted to be sure,
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"Murder Is Easy" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/murder_is_easy_14246>.
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