Spellbound Page #3

as one can tell by the mustard

on her right forefinger.

I would say hot dogs

on the state highway.

Would you really? Your diagnosis is,

as usual, wrong, Dr. Fleurot.

Not hot dogs, liverwurst.

I'm very sorry, I have to leave

this nursery. I must see Mr. Garmes.

It looks as if we have Casanova himself

at the head of Green Manors.

Did you notice her blush

every time we mentioned his name?

It's very late.

I was going to read your new book again.

I would like to discuss it. I have never

discussed an author's work with him.

Of course, at school, we had

several literary professors,

but that was quite different.

I sound rather nervous, don't I?

Not at all.

I thought I wanted to discuss

your book with you.

I'm amazed at the subterfuge.

I don't want to discuss it at all.

I understand.

It's quite remarkable to discover

that one isn't what one thought one was.

I mean, I've always been entirely aware

of what was in my mind.

And you're not now?

It's quite ridiculous.

It was stupid of me to come in here

like a distracted child.

You're very lovely.

Please don't talk that way.

You'll think I came in to hear that.

I know why you came in.

Why?

Because something has happened to us.

But it doesn't happen like that,

in a day.

It happens in a moment sometimes.

I felt it this afternoon.

It was like lightning striking.

It strikes rarely.

I don't understand how it happened.

- What is it?

- It's not you.

Something about your robe.

My robe? I don't understand.

Forgive me. Something struck me.

I've been having a rather bad time

with my nerves lately. Your robe...

- I mean, the dark lines.

- You're ill.

I'll be all right.

Hello. Yes, Dr. Edwardes.

Yes. Yes. What? Where is he?

I'll be there right away.

Mr. Garmes, he's run amuck. Tried to

murder Fleurot, then cut his own throat.

- Is it bad?

- I think so. He's in surgery.

I'll be right along.

He's lost a lot of blood,

but I think he'll pull through.

- What's the pulse?

- 140.

It's going down.

- Why are the lights out in the corridor?

- What do you mean?

It's dark. That's why he did it.

Because the lights are out.

Turn them on!

Doors, unlock them!

- You can't keep people in cells.

- Dr. Edwardes.

Fools babbling about guilt complexes.

What do you know about them?

He did it.

He told me he killed his father.

Put the lights on. Quick!

It's dark. It's dark.

- He's in collapse.

- He's ill.

He didn't look like a heart case.

Not heart, shock of some sort.

Must be brought about by exhaustion.

Take him up to his room.

I'll take care of him.

I'm sorry.

I suppose I made

quite an exhibition of myself.

Who brought me down here? You?

It's rather a mess.

Going to pieces in surgery.

Who are you?

I remember now.

Edwardes is dead.

I killed him and took his place.

I'm someone else, I don't know who.

I killed him. Edwardes.

I have no memory.

It's like looking into a mirror

and seeing nothing but the mirror.

Yet the image is there.

I know it's there.

I exist, I'm there.

How can a man lose his memory,

his name, everything he's ever known,

and still talk like this,

as if he were quite sane?

- Are you afraid of me?

- No. You're ill.

Loss of memory

is not a difficult problem.

Yes, I know, amnesia.

A trick of the mind for remaining sane.

You remain sane by forgetting something

too horrible to remember.

You put the horrible thing

behind a closed door.

We have to open that door.

- I know what's behind that door. Murder.

- No!

That's a delusion you have acquired

out of illness.

Will you answer me truthfully

and trust me?

I trust you, but it's no use.

I can't think. I don't know who I am.

I don't know, I don't know.

Who telephoned you yesterday?

- Telephoned me?

- Yes. There in the office.

Yes, I remember.

What did she say?

She said she was my office assistant.

She was worried about me, hadn't heard.

You mean she was Dr. Edwardes' assistant

and hadn't heard from him.

What else did she say?

She didn't recognize my voice,

that I wasn't Dr. Edwardes.

- You hung up in anger?

- I was confused.

My head ached.

- Was that your first doubt?

- First doubt?

The first time you became confused

as Edwardes?

Did anything else happen before that?

Yes.

When I was in the hotel room

packing to come here

I found a cigarette case in my coat.

It frightened me.

I didn't know why it should.

Here.

The initials J.B. See them?

When I saw them in the hotel room,

they made my head ache.

Well, they're probably your initials.

J.B., J.B.

You must sleep. When you wake up,

you'll be able to tell me more,

- if you trust me.

- I trust you.

It's late. You'd better get

some sleep yourself. I'll be all right.

I'm sure there will be no police inquiry

for a few days.

We'll talk about it

and straighten everything out

before anything happens.

I'll come in in the morning

and report you too ill for service.

I have been in Dr. Edwardes' office

for five years,

and the man who spoke to me

is not Dr. Edwardes.

He let me have my vacation

when he left on his.

I was very worried

when I didn't hear from him last week.

Then I thought he might have just

come here without reopening his office.

- That's why I telephoned.

- Show them the picture.

Yes.

- That's a different man.

- He was taking a chance.

Somebody might have known

what Edwardes looked like.

You never saw the real Edwardes?

No, I never met him.

But I felt something was wrong

from the moment our man appeared.

He didn't impress me as a scientist.

Last night when he collapsed,

I became actually alarmed.

What do you think made him break down

last night?

It's obvious now. Garmes.

Our impostor, I'm almost certain,

is an amnesia case.

Garmes brought him back to reality

for an instant.

Being unable to face the truth

of who he was, he collapsed.

- You think he may have killed Edwardes?

- There's no question of it.

He killed Dr. Edwardes and took

his place in order to conceal his crime

by pretending the victim

was still alive.

This sort of unrealistic act

is typical of the shortsighted cunning

that goes with paranoid behavior.

We're wasting time, gentlemen.

His room is upstairs.

Oh. Uh, this is Dr. Petersen.

- These gentlemen are from the police.

- The police?

- What has happened?

- Nothing to be alarmed about.

Our Dr. Edwardes turns out

to be a paranoid impostor.

He's very likely guilty

of having murdered the real Edwardes.

He's disappeared.

He is not in his room?

- You left him in his room, miss?

- Yes.

Did he say anything about himself,

about why he broke down?

No. He was not himself.

He was unable to speak coherently.

You don't seem very surprised to learn

that this Dr. Edwardes is a fake

and may be guilty of murder.

I'm used to such surprises in my work.

You suspected something then?

No. I thought his collapse

due to mental strain.

That's a funny diagnosis for a fellow

who's supposed to have

just come from vacation.

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