Sleuth Page #6

no one will suspect murder."

You mean all that steal-the-jewels

stuff was just--

I invited you round here to set up

the circumstances of your own death:

the break-in, the disguise,

jewels in your pocket,

the householder aroused,

grappling with the thief...

and gun going off during the struggle,

and then,

the final, fatal shot.

Knock it off, Andrew, for God's sake.

- It ain't funny no more.

- It ain't, ain't it ?

- Can you find a flaw in it ?

- Marguerite.

- The cops'll trace the connection

between Marguerite and me.

- What nonsense.

They'll know that's why you did it.

How was I expected to know who you were ?

The law will have every sympathy for me.

Property's always been more highly

regarded in England than people.

Even Marguerite will assume that

you were, after all, just an

adventurer after her jewels,

a petty sneak thief who, in the end, found

larceny less burdensome than matrimony.

The way you're finding murder

less burdensome than alimony ?

Ha ! Wit in the face of adversity !

Good !

You've learned something from the English.

Oh, and here's something else--

a sporting chance. Why don't

you make a run for it ?

And give you the chance to

shoot me down in cold blood ?

Hotblood, you mean.

But I'll tell you what I'll do.

I'll close my eyes and

count up to 20 slowly.

That should give you a reasonable

chance. Come on, Milo. Off you go.

One--

One, two,

three, four,

five, six,

seven, eight,

nine, ten,

eleven, twelve,

thirteen, fourteen, fifteen,

sixteen, seventeen, eighteen,

nineteen and twenty.

You left them in that beautiful coat.

- Oh, my God.

- Let's have you out of that car,

shall we ?

Those lovely boots back on again, please.

Now, of course, the only question

left to be decided is where

the Police shall find you.

Of course, you could be lying sprawled

over the desk in the study,

like countless colonels

in countless studies,

or propped up in the log

basket like a rag doll.

Which do you fancy--

early Agatha Christie or

vintage S.S. Van Dine ?

You're talking of a murder, of killing

a real man ! Don't you understand ?

Perhaps I shouldn't use a gun at all.

Perhaps, best of all,

A real 1930s murder weapon,

the Mashie Niblick.

I've got one in my golf bag.

Dear old Mashie Niblick.

I think you'd be found in the

fireplace in a fair old mess.

The body lay on its back, its limbs

grotesquely splayed like a broken puppet.

The whole head had been pulped

as if by some supernatural force.

"My God," breathed the Inspector, blanching.

"Thompson, you'd better get a top yourself."

"Excuse me, sir, but was all this

violence strictly necessary ?"

"I'm sorry, Inspector.

I'm afraid I lost control of

myself when I saw him handling

my wife's intimate garments."

Oh, it's too bloody elaborate.

I tell you what.

I think the scene the Police

find is simply this:

after the fight, you flee up the

stairs back to your ladder again.

Go on, Milo, flee.

Up you go.

Up you go.

I catch you on the landing, and in

the renewed struggle I shoot you.

Nothing succeeds like simplicity,

don't you agree, Milo ?

On the morning of his execution,

King Charles I put on two shirts.

"If I tremble with the cold," he said,

"my enemies will say it was from fear."

I will not expose myself to such reproaches.

You must also attempt

this anglo-saxon dignity...

as you mount the steps to the scaffold.

Look...

I can't give anything back, can I ?

I mean, if it hadn't been me,

it would've been somebody else.

Please.

I'll go away.

You won't never hear of me no more.

Why, Andrew ? Why me ?

Don't snivel.

I wanna know why !

I'm amazed you have to ask.

I hate you.

I hate your smarmy good looks

and your easy manner.

I'll bet you're easy in a ski lodge,

easy on a yacht, easy on a beach.

I knew you'd wear a gold

charm round your neck,

And I'll bet your chest is hairy

and in summer matted with sun oil.

Above all, I hate you...

because you're a culling blue-eyed wop,

and not one of me !

A creeping, hairdressing

seducer of silly women.

A jumped-up pantry boy

who doesn't know his place !

Did you really believe...

I'd give up my wife and jewelry to you ?

That I'd make myself that ridiculous ?

Why not ?

You're not in love with her.

Whether I love her or not,

I found her. I've kept her.

She represents me.

Once... she was in love with me.

And now, she's in love with me.

And that's what you can't forgive, isn't it ?

And after me, there'll be others.

You gonna kill them too ?

You're mad ! You're a bloody madman !

And you are a young man...

dressed as a clown about to be murdered.

Put the mask on, Milo.

- No.

- Put it on.

No, please. Please.

Put it on.

Finally, at your moment of dying,

you are yourself--

a sniveling, dago clown.

Farewell, Punchinello !

Please !

Good-bye now and amen

Here's hoping we meet now and then

It was great fun but it was just

one of those things

You do

something to me

something that simply mystifies me

Tell me

why should it be

you have the power

to hypnotize me

Let me

live 'neath your spell

Do do that voodoo

that you do so well

For you do

something to me

that nobody else

could do

Let me

live 'neath your spell

Do do that voodoo

that you do so well

For you do

something to me

that nobody else

could do

You do

something to me

that nobody else could do

In olden days a glimpse of stocking

was looked on as something shocking

now heaven knows

anything goes

Good authors too who once knew better words

now only use four-letter words

writing prose

anything goes

The world has gone mad today

and good's bad today

and black's white today

and day's night today

when most guys today

that women prize today

are just silly gigolos

So though I'm not

a great romancer

I know that you're bound

to answer when I propose

anything goes

The world has gone mad today

and good's bad today

and black's white today

and day's night today

when most guys today

that women prize today

are just silly gigolos

So though I'm not

a great romancer

I know that you're

bound to answer

when I propose

anything goes

Ah. Good evening, sir.

I was beginning to think

there was no one at home.

Indeed ? And who might you be ?

Detective Inspector Doppler, sir,

of the Wiltshire County Constabulary.

I'm sorry to be calling so late,

but I need to have a few words with you...

on a very important matter.

- Well, you better come in.

Wiltshire County Constabulary, you say ?

That's right, sir.

I'm normally based at Salisbury,

but, uh, your local man here asked me

to pop over and give him a hand.

Those were the days, sir.

Tunes you could hum.

It was a time for humming, Inspector.

Would you care for an aquavit ?

- No, thank you, sir. I've had my supper.

- Oh.

Perhaps you'd prefer a brandy ? Or are you

gonna tell me you never drink on duty ?

Oh, no, sir. I always drink on duty.

I can't afford to in my own time.

- Caviar. So that's what that looks like.

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote