The Abominable Dr. Phibes Page #4

Don't say a word, please.

I know just what your feelings are.

The police have reason to believe...

What do the police

have reason to believe, Doctor?

Do you remember assisting me

in an operation four years ago?

Yes.

In connection with that, the police

believe a man is going to try to kill you.

- Kill me? :

- Yes. Within a few hours.

I'm sorry.

I don't know how you expect me

to sleep with this going on.

I suggest you take a sleeping pill.

- Good night.

- Good night

There is one aspect of this situation

we have not yet explored.

Oh, don't worry, sir.

Sooner or later he'll get stopped

by the oldest snag of all: human error.

- Human error won't stop him.

- Why? What do you mean?

He's had years to hide,

to plot this damnable thing.

He's compelling himself to follow exactly

the classic death pattern of the G'tach.

It's a psychic force that holds the man

together, this maniacal precision.

If we could just throw it off,

interrupt the cycle...

then he might be stopped -

by his own inflexible standards.

Three curses left.

Yes...

Of course, the thought does occur,

if you'll pardon the liberty,

that it could be your turn tonight.

I've considered that.

I have a feeling that I'll be last.

After all, I was chief surgeon on the case.

If he keeps to the pattern,

it should be the darkness for you.

Though heaven knows what that could be.

Have you considered

the death of the first-born, sir?

The fact that my older brother is dead

should surely exclude me

from that particular curse.

Well, I am going to remain by your side

until we apprehend this man.

- Thank you.

- Not at all, sir. It...

What about your first-born? :

Schenley:
Take the doctor home, put a

guard on his house and report back here.

The sergeant will take you, sir.

The back door was hanging off.

Lock had been forced.

A struggle upstairs, by the look of it.

The lad's been taken all right.

Stay here with Vesalius.

I'll get back to Trout.

Poor little devil.

- The boy's gone.

- Oh, no:
Any sign of Phibes?

None at all.

We'll check Nurse Allen

and get over there.

- How's he taking it?

- Vesalius? You can imagine.

Open it. Slowly.

Soon, Victoria, soon...

but one world to possess,

there to love and sleep again...

in our own eternal paradise.

We're doing everything we can, sir.

Perhaps a brandy might help.

There must've been some way

I could have prevented this.

Hello?

Who's there?

Nine killed her.

Nine shall die.

Is that you, Phibes?

Phibes? Phibes?

Eight have died.

Soon to be nine.

Nine eternities in doom.

Phibes, I must see you.

Where are you, Phibes? I must speak...

Phibes, where is my son? :

The organ plays till midnight.

The large house in Maldine Square.

Come alone.

I'm going alone.

Perhaps he'll trade my life for my son's.

If you think you can reason with him,

you're as mad as he is: We're coming too.

Your men's presence there could

only accelerate the death of my son:

Sorry, I cannot allow you to go alone.

- My son's life is at stake:

- We'll take every precaution,

but I cannot allow you to go alone.

I am prepared to use force if necessary:

I'm sorry, but you are my responsibility.

All right, Trout.

I'll do whatever you say.

At least there's time

to make a telephone call, I hope.

If you're quick, sir, yes.

Your brandy.

I'm sorry too, Trout.

Good evening, Dr Vesalius.

I have come for my son.

He will die at midnight.

If you must take a life, take mine.

I will have killed nine times in my life,

Dr Vesalius.

How many murders

can be attributed to you?

- None. I did not kill your wife.

- No?

I tried to save her.

With a knife in your hand?

Doctor, I have no faith in your profession.

I was told after my crash

that I would never speak again.

The doctors were, of course, wrong.

For, as you see and can hear, I have used

my knowledge of music and acoustics

to re-create my voice.

You don't have to remind me

of your ingenuity, Dr Phibes.

Where, where is my son?

May I give you one final reminder,

Dr Vesalius?

You will see your son

under circumstances

which may bring back memories to you.

- What is it you want?

- The skill of your hands, Doctor.

I am giving your son

the same chance that my wife had.

You need not be alarmed.

He has already been anaesthetised.

Your wife, no, Phibes.

But you I will kill.

But you can't, Doctor.

I am already dead.

Your son needs you.

Sergeant:

Are you receiving me, Vesalius?

That is an x-ray of your son's ribcage.

You will see from it that a tiny key

has been lodged close to his heart.

It will unlock the halter around

your son's neck and will free the trolley.

If you are wondering

why you need to free the operating table,

then I suggest

you look above his head, Doctor.

In a few moments,

acid will be released into that tube.

It will creep down...

slowly, inexorably.

It will take six minutes

to reach the outlet over his face.

Exactly six minutes, Doctor.

Please hurry.

For God's sake:

Don't cry upon God, Dr Vesalius.

He is on my side!

He led me, showed me the way

in my quest for vengeance.

Not God, Doctor. Look to yourself.

Those hands,

those skilled hands of yours.

You can be his only salvation.

Look above your son, Doctor.

Vulnavia, my work is nearly finished.

Go now, destroy all I have created.

Work faster, Doctor.

The acid is descending.

My wife existed only six minutes

on the operating table,

and then she was dead.

- You murdered her.

- No

Murdered her!

But he will have what she did not.

a second chance.

Perhaps your hands will shake

and he too will die under your knife.

A few remaining minutes are all you have.

Because, when the acid reaches him,

he will have a face like mine.

Follow me, men.

- Vesalius:
Is the boy all right?

- Yes.

Turn that damn thing off!

- We'll need an ambulance for Lem.

- What about?

Right, you two get downstairs

and bring that boy up here.

The rest of you, keep searching the

house. We have got to find Phibes.

Where the hell is he? :

- Where the devil did this come from?

- What comes up must go down.

Brilliant.

No, don't touch it, sir.

Much better leave it to us.

You never know, it could be a trap.

He's gone. Vanished.

That's bloody impossible.

That still leaves the final curse.

Darkness.

Well, he'll be working on it.

Wherever he is.

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