The Largest Theatre in the World: Heart to Heart Page #6

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Does it look like the sort of place

that would have espresso?

Frankly, no. But it's called

Espresso Continental.

I'm in no mood for your humour

this morning, Mrs W.

It's all right, he's gone.

-Goodbye, Lady Johnson. And thank you.

-Goodbye.

Not at all.

Oh, did you manage to...?

Oh, I forgot, I nearly stole your

autograph book, too. How awful.

It wouldn't have mattered, really.

There's nobody very interesting in it.

Only the Prime Minister

and Lord Boothby.

Oh, do it for me, would you, dear?

-Eh, David.

-Uh-huh?

Lady Johnson would like you

to sign her book.

-With a little message.

-With a little message.

Oh, how charming.

What would you like me to say?

Oh, anything that comes

into your head, Mr Mann.

Oh, I'm afraid my head this morning,

Lady Johnson, is not a receptacle

in which I place the greatest trust.

However, we'll have a go, shall we?

Goodbye, Mr Mann. Thank you so much.

It's been a pleasure.

-I'll be back in a few moments, John.

-Yes, sir.

Well, what immortal message

did you find?

"To Lady Johnson,

who also loves the truth."

You should have put, "To Lady Johnson,

who also loves me."

I can't stand you this morning,

Mrs Weston.

Well, I'm not obsessed with

your charms either, Mr Mann.

-Well?

-Well, what?

How do we go?

I suppose man of the people is the line,

plain honest Stan, hmm?

Not so honest he doesn't

steal from James Thurber.

You noticed that, did you?

Why did you laugh like a ruddy hyena?

Because it was funny. It was funny

when Thurber wrote it.

All right, I'm the ill-read one.

Which crack was that?

"We have cats the way

other people have mice."

Mrs Creeper Weston here split a gut.

When the victim laughs, I laugh,

that's my policy.

I agree, Frank, we got

absolutely nothing to go on,

absolutely nothing at all.

Except, perhaps "coming man

of the party" angle.

But as it's to be an evening

of sweetness and light by order,

I don't see that it matters...

Lady over there asked me

to give you this.

Well, thank her very much, will you?

Thank you. Here.

-Here.

-Read it, Mr Mann.

It'll interest you.

Yes, I'm going to read it, madam,

straightaway. Thank you so much.

Mind you, he's an ambitious one.

That stands out a mile.

And all this "can't write one word

after another", that's a lot of guff.

He's got an excellent degree

at Liverpool University.

Well, I suppose Mrs Weston

will pay the bill as usual

and mark up quadruple

the amount for expenses

-so I'll see you two at the run.

-Sit down.

I think you should read this.

-Must I?

-Well, it's addressed to you.

Hey!

This is a very bad joke, isn't it?

Why don't you ask her?

What if it isn't?

I don't want to get caught up

in some cheap, blackmailing racket.

I'd better tear this up.

Well, then, tear it up.

Well, the date fits,

but, of course, that's easy.

-Would either of you mind...

-Mr Mann is going to tear it up.

It's far better we shouldn't

either of us tell you.

This is a photostatted hotel bill,

Frank.

The Hotel Mirabeau at Cannes.

It's for 257,852 francs.

That's before new francs, remember.

On top is written "Sir Johnson,"

that's a clever touch.

"Sir Johnson and Lady Johnson."

There's a receipt stamp at the bottom,

cashier's signature across.

French-style handwriting.

They've obviously been to

a great deal of trouble.

Yes, but who are "they"?

And why shouldn't the Johnsons

have a holiday

in the South of France if they want to?

Across the bill,

there's a large, bold signature.

What do you make that out to be?

"Manuel Lopez."

Yes. That's how I made it out, too.

-But that's the chap who...

-Exactly.

-There were some grounds.

-Of course, there were grounds.

He was obviously trying to get

the Board of Trade

to fiddle the contract. The

Appleton Commission that proved that.

Yes, but was there anything ever

on Sir Stanley?

Nothing at all.

He came out of it better than anyone,

loyally covering up for his chief.

In fact, tonight when dealing with

the case, I was going to bring that...

Oh, wait a minute!

-I think we've got him here, look.

-What?

"Coiffeur, hairdressing, 25,000."

That's twenty odd pounds in nine days

for hair. Mabel Johnson?

You wait here.

Ah, Mr Mann. Do sit down.

I don't think so, thank you.

Just as you please.

But you'll want to know my name,

won't you?

Not particularly, unless possibly

to give it to the police.

It's Knott. Miss Knott.

I live in Hightower Mansions,

Leinster Gardens, West Kensington.

I'm in the telephone book.

But if Sir Stanley wants

to prosecute me,

he knows perfectly well

where to find me.

I haven't changed my address in 13 years

and for 10 of them, I was his secretary.

Can you prove that?

I have his letter of dismissal.

-Photostatted?

-Oh, no.

There was no point in

photostatting this.

You mean you can't blackmail him on it?

Well, I hadn't thought

I suppose I could, really.

As contributory evidence, anyway.

You notice the sum he offered me to

"tide me over", doesn't he say,

was rather larger than the sum

people usually offer their secretaries

when they sack them.

It eases my conscience just a weeny bit

to be able to tell you

I sent back the cheque.

I'll accept that somebody called

Miss Knott was his secretary,

but how do I know that's you?

Not a very flattering

photograph I'm afraid.

Thank you.

-Where's the original of this?

-At my bank.

So you admit that you stole a document

from your employer.

Oh, no, I don't admit that.

I'm a naughty girl in a hundred ways but

I've never stolen anything in my life.

So your story is that you were

in Cannes with him.

Oh, yes.

I always went on those

sort of jaunts with them.

Sir Stanley didn't ever want to have any

personal contact with Mr Lopez.

So I was always used as a kind of

glorified messenger girl,

running between Mr Lopez's yacht

and Sir Stanley.

Usually carrying large dollops of cash.

And, sometimes, at night, too,

if Sir Stanley had had a bad time

at the casino.

And you know

those terrible, tough, young men

who lounge up and down

the Croisette at night

giving girls those impertinent stares.

Well, sometimes I thought,

when one of them

were staring particularly hard at me,

"Isn't it a mercy?

It's just me he's looking at.

"And doesn't know what's in my bag."

(CHUCKLING)

Once in Capri...

I'm afraid I still happen to think

this document is a forgery, Miss Knott.

-In fact, I know it is.

-Really?

How?

You say you were with Sir Stanley

for 10 years?

Then you must have known

his wife very well.

Oh, yes, very well, we got on

like a house on fire.

Then how could you or your associates

have made such

an unlikely mistake as this.

Hair dressing,

twenty pounds odd in nine days.

Well, that was rather cheap for her.

What? For Mabel Johnson?

Oh! (LAUGHING)

Lady Johnson. (CHUCKLING)

That must have been that charming

young cashier leaping to conclusions.

But it's all right, Mr Mann.

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