The Lodger Page #3

you'd been. That's what led me to you.

Miss Langley, were you

well-acquainted with her?

Not particularly.

Everybody in the theater knows her.

- What is all this?

- I know. Jack the Ripper's got her.

She stood right

where you're standing now.

Why would the Ripper want to go

after anyone like her'?

I don't know.

It's funny she should have sent this.

You know, I...

I almost don't like to touch it.

- It came just a little while ago.

- It's ever so pretty.

That must have cost Annie

half a sovereign to have made up.

We formed a cordon. The alarm spread through

the district, but we couldn't trace him.

Are the mutilations repeated?

Oh, this is Dr. Sheridan,

the theater doctor.

Oh, yes. Yes, he used his knife

pretty extensively.

They don't call him the Ripper

for nothing.

My beliefs that he's a man of considerable medical knowledge.

- Oh, I'm sure of it.

It's proved by the deadly nature

of his assaults.

In the last case, his first stroke cut...

the sternocleidomastoid muscle

clean through.

And his second stroke divided

the ensiform cartilage.

Does anybody know why

he commits these murders?

The Ripper must have a motive...

but no man alive can even guess

at what it might be.

And the women who could know are dead.

Have you discovered anything yourself...

any clues to him?

One rather odd thing.

Each of the murdered women was

at one time or another on the stage.

Why doesn't somebody shoot him?

It's against the law for anyone

to use firearms, even the police.

And we all get so jumpy down there.

- We'd likely be banging away at one another.

- That'll do, Bates.

- Did anybody see him this time?

- Some of our men thought they saw him.

They couldn't describe him

clearly, but, uh...

they swear that he was carrying

a small black bag.

It says here, "The bag appeared to

be made of shiny black oil cl0th..."

"and was the sort of bag that doctors always

use to carry their tools or their dinner...

and was of a size convenient

to conceal the Ripper's long knife."

Well, what's the matter?

Robert.

Silly, isn't it, but I was thinking...

that Mr... Mr. Slade came here

the night of the other murder.

And all he had with him

was a little black bag.

And he took the bag with him

when he went out last night.

- He did not.

- But he did, dear.

His bag was not black, and he didn't

have it with him last night.

- He did.

- Would you stake your oath on that...

your solemn oath in a court of law?

Not only was his bag not black, but you're

not even sure that he had it with him.

He wasn't home but past 3:00 this morning.

I heard him creeping up the stairs.

Naturally he crept up the stairs.

What do you expect him to do, dance and sing?

Do you want him to wake

the whole house, do you?

You don't even read the news...

and you sit there working up the most

illogical and preposterous suspicions.

Robert.

Police.

All right, Daisy. I'll go.

- Good morning.

- Good morning, sir. Good morning, madam.

L'm sorry to trouble you so early,

but, uh, it's rather important.

Well, come in, but don't leave your bobbies

standing on my doorstep.

- All right. Keep moving, Bates.

- Very good, sir.

Well, what are you doing here,

Mr. Warwick?

I've been reading all about myself

and the gentleman with the black bag.

Did you know that poor woman sent me

some flowers to the theater last night?

Sort of a good-luck horseshoe.

That was my excuse for calling.

- Good morning, darlings.

- Morning, my dear.

I didn't see that till after you'd left.

The stage doorkeeper told the local

constable about it, and he reported it to us.

I want to find out what florist

it came from.

We brought the horseshoe home

if you'd like to look at it.

Thank you for a lovely breakfast, Daisy.

Would you like to see those, darling?

We're tying to trace her movements

after she left you.

- Here it is. It's roses and London pride.

- Hmm.

Here's the box it came in, sir.

The name's on the lid.

I must have this address.

Mr. Slade, he's going out

very early this morning.

He's not going out.

He's coming in here.

Oh, I beg your pardon.

Mr. Slade, I haven't even

started to get your breakfast.

- Good morning.

- Good morning.

I just came down to get the paper.

- Oh, uh, Mr. Wanlvick, this is Mr. Slade.

- How do you do?

Mr. Warwick's from Scotland Yard.

He's engaged on the Ripper case.

My men are hanging around

tying to get a look at Miss Langley.

Your opening performance went well?

- Tremendously well.

- We had royalty there.

- Must have been very gratifying.

- When are you coming to see the show?

Mr. Slade doesn't care

for the theater, dear.

But why not? I must insist on you

coming some evening very soon.

Haven't you enough men

at your feet already?

I didn't intend to intrude.

If I could have a paper.

Oh, uh, they've seen the Ripper again.

- I don't think you'll ever catch him.

- Why not?

White chapel was swarming with police, and yet

you haven't come near laying a hand on him.

You don't know any more about him now

than you did in the beginning.

- We have our theories though.

- Theories?

The favorite one is that he's a maniac

and kills at random.

- Do you think that?

- No, I don't.

Well, he's a bit of a back-alley specialist,

if you ask me.

He never goes after women

unless they're alone and undefended.

Some of us are inclined

to believe that, uh...

he has a grudge against

a particular woman.

When he finds her,

then the murders will cease.

- Do you believe that?

- Mm-mmm.

What is your theory about him then?

Well, if you'd care to come

to Scotland Yard sometime...

I'd be very happy to explain it to you.

If my ideas are right, I'll make Jack the Ripper's

own fingers tie the noose that'll hang him.

I don't know what you mean by that,

but there's a new clue here.

"Ripper. Man with bag wanted."

Yes, they're very excited about that.

If you'll excuse me,

I have some things to do.

One afternoon next week,

I'll show you our Black Museum.

- I shall be most interested.

- Good-bye.

- Good-bye, Mr. Warwick.

- Good-bye.

Oh, Daisy, if that's Mr. Slade's breakfast,

I'll take it up.

Mr. Slade!

What's burning up there?

Don't come up here.

I'm sorry if there's an odor,

but there was something I had to do.

I'll open the window.

Just leave the tray, if you please.

- Robert.

- Uncle.

- We've looked all over the house for you.

- Where have you been?

Uh, I-I went out. I've just come in.

We've something to tell you.

Mr. Slade has burned his bag.

I smelled burning.

I didn't say anything to you at the time.

When I heard him go to his room,

I went up to the attic.

And this is what I found.

It was in the refuse pail.

He was out half last night.

Then he saw this morning's headlines

and burned his bag.

- Very sensible of him.

- Why do you say that?

Nobody can afford

to own a bag like that now.

Look here. A man was mobbed

in Trafalgar Square this morning.

They nearly had his life just because

Rate this script:4.5 / 2 votes