The Squeaker Page #6

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- Would you tell me...

I will, but later.

Do you mind?

What are you doing?

You...

So you are The Snake!

Help!

Come here, Frank. Have tea with me.

Beryl won't take long getting here.

Thank you. I expect they're still out

shopping, getting ready for their trip.

Oh, you'll excuse my nervous statement.

I have many things to do...

before our departure.

- Will you take sugar?

No, thank you.

- Oh! Well, you did not...

You better just not stir.

Will you tell me what's happening?

- Later. Later.

What's new? ls anything happening?

- The tea has just been served.

Come, please. You know Mr Harras,

I believe. I was the cause...

he was loosing a coup lately.

That gives him the right to be here.

Many thanks, Sir.

And:
fabulous hunting.

A glass of Cognac, Frank?

- I don't know.

What is all this?

- Oh, there is nothing better...

than a good cup of tea.

Don't you think so?

I don't mean to be rude, Mrs Mulford,

but the tea seams rather queer.

Well, Frank. What's important is:

You've managed to drink it.

Whether it tastes

a little queer or not...

is less important.

I feel so hot!

- Aren't you well?

No.

- Wonderful.

The inspector was right!

This stuff works phenomenally!

And now he can't move an inch,

our poor Mr Sutton.

Are you out of your senses?

- Please don't worry.

In an hour Sutton will be fit.

What do you want from me?

Frankie...

You are a swine.

So this is the trouble,

some little gun, huh?

A pistol with which

all of your poor victims are murdered.

And wasn't tonight the night you came

to kill me with it, and poor James...

would find me in the morning

while clever Mr Sutton...

would have flown by then

and he could never be caught!

How does this thing work?

Like this?

Like this?

And like this?

No.

No.

- Yes.

Not an easy death,

the poison of the black mamba.

No.

No... Wait. Don't!

I tell you what you want.

Only... not that!

In that case tell me

who you are, Mr Sutton.

I know, of course,

but I want to hear it from you.

I count up to 3.

Yes...

I'm...

I'm...

The Snake.

Shall we go in, Inspector?

- No. Let the old lady have the moment...

she's been waiting for.

We have plenty of time.

"Mr Paul Mulford!

Better send me the money

that we have agreed upon...

or I shall see to it that your actions

are known...", and so on and so on.

You in fact are the writer

of that letter.

Yes.

You are therefore guilty of blackmailing

my husband! You pursued a man...

you knew was innocent

to the point where he was driven...

to take his own life.

- Yes.

Inspector. I have finished.

She's ready now.

Oh! I was on the point of forgetting.

Have a light.

Amusing. So convenient.

Thank you.

- Please keep it. I think you need it.

Oh, well isn't that...

- Bribery. Absolutely.

Hello? Yes, Lomm.

What's up?

What?

Ah! Aha...

By heaven's sake!

No, no. Here it's all over.

Thank you.

Millie Trent is dead.

Murdered.

She was in his way.

I'd better tell you this.

We found a few more details...

about Mr Sutton's affairs.

He had 20.000 pounds, put aside.

Pretty good, what? It won't do him

much good now, will it?

Yep. So that's the end of the story,

Miss Stedman. That's all.

No happy ending,

but we can't help this.

Anyway, if you should ever need any

good ideas for a book call me, won't you?

Right. You played your hand, Snake.

Ah!

I suppose you'll know

what you're in for? The gallows.

And far as your poor simple friend

Krishna is concerned, the one you used

and misused for your criminal activities,

he'll be under doctor's care! Forever!

Just a second, please!

Don't move! Hold it!

Thank you!

Sir, this will be my kind of story.

How I knew it?

On time as usual!

Oh...

On time as usual.

What have you got to tell me, Inspector?

- Well, just one thing.

You've lost the scoop once more.

By the way, do you know...

Mr Jos!

- What? You are Jos'?

I am, indeed! Josua Harras. Jos!

- You're indeed!

Yes, Sir. Since yesterday

I'm "The Guardian's" chief reporter.

Harras, I'll let you have

what you want! I'll double your salary,

I'll take you on for life.

I'll construct a Ping-Pong-room for you,

an entire sports-stadium! Harras!

Madam!

Paul, Darling...

Please forgive me.

I had to do what I did.

I do hope you will be

pleased with me.

Yes, Nancy.

It was worthy of Edgar Wallace.

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