The Wrong Box Page #3

Where's Uncle Joseph? Where is he?

Er... I... was just having a look for him in there.

- Come along.

- Morris...

Do you realise

it's a criminal offence to wear that coat?

I'm not wearing any trousers.

But... but that too is a criminal affair.

Uncle Joseph?

- I hope you don't mind if I take my leave.

- Oh, would you, sir?

Uncle Joseph?

Uncle Joseph?

Uncle Joseph?

Cousin!

Oh... oh, no.

Oh, don't tell me. I can't bear it. Is it him?

- Of course it's him!

- Well, how do you know?

Well, look at his coat. It's his coat.

Is he dead?

What's left of him is very dead indeed.

Are you going to say a prayer or something?

Not at a time like this.

Now, you listen to me, Uncle Joseph.

You may be dead, but you listen to me.

You're a nasty, mean,

spiteful, vindictive old man,

to do this to two little orphans.

Your brother's on his deathbed.

Couldn't you have waited a day?

You stupid oaf!

- Look, I'll get some help.

- What's the use?

Wait. Let me think.

- Into the woods.

- Oh. Right. Yes.

- With him!

- Who?

- Uncle Joseph.

- Into the woods with Uncle Joseph?

Don't stand there.

The tontine - we may still win it.

- But he's dead.

- He's not dead until I say he's dead.

Hey!

Hey, sir!

Ah. I wonder, sir, if you and your fine

bay gelding are heading for London.

- I am, sir.

- And what would you ask a passenger?

- Your company would be payment enough, sir.

- Oh...

Well, thank you.

Hey.

Well, I wonder if you realise how many times

the word "whip" occurs in the Old Testament.

Oh, I see you are impressed.

But that figure is infinitesimal,

when you consider that the Bible contains

And it is a remarkable fact...

Do get on, or we'll be here all night.

Well, a penknife's not the ideal tool, is it?

Anyway, I don't think we ought to do this.

I don't want to go to prison.

Don't start snivelling in that revolting way.

If you can't dig a hole for him,

cover him in leaves or something. Cover him.

But why do I always have to do the dirty work?

Because you are remarkably stupid.

Yes, I forgot that. Sorry.

In any case, I have to look after my hands.

Petal-soft hands are the mark

of a great ornithologist. Now, get on with it!

Morris, I beg of you - let's have done with this.

Let's get an undertaker. He won't be

too expensive and he'll do a professional job.

- We're not burying him.

- We're not?

We're merely hiding him.

- Merely hiding him.

- What we need is a venal doctor.

But uncle Joseph's dead! It's too late.

Not for him, for us. Now, you remember

that chamber maid you got into erm?

- Thing.

- Thing. Who was the doctor who did the er?

Thing. Er Pratt. Dr Pratt.

Was he venal?

I didn't like to ask.

- Well, did he do the?

- Thing. Yes.

- Good.

- But what's he got to do with it?

He's part of the plan.

Now, you and I are the only two people in the

world who know that Uncle Joseph is erm...

- Thing.

- Dead. And we won't tell anyone.

But people are bound to find out sooner or later.

Not quite yet.

Now, Uncle Masterman, at best,

has only two or three days to live.

When he goes, I'll announce that Uncle Joseph

has died of a heart attack

on hearing the tragic news

of his brother's death.

I then go along to your accommodating Dr er...

- Pratt.

- Thing.

He provides me with a blank death certificate

for Uncle Joseph.

I fill in the date and the tontine is mine.

- Ours.

- We'll go into that later.

There come moments in life, cousin,

when every man must find moral courage.

Your moment is about to come.

- It is?

- It is.

I'll go to London, tell everybody

that you and Uncle Joseph have been delayed.

You go back to Bournemouth

and remain there till I send for you.

I see, but erm... what about him?

I'm coming to that.

You must find a suitable box or container,

crate him up and send him back to London.

We shall, after all, need him at the funeral.

Crate him in a box? What sort of box?

Something of suitable size and robustness

for a man in that condition.

If you'll allow me, sir.

I will take charge of the rest of the packing.

All right, Peacock.

But don't lean too far in the barrel.

I say! We've received a telegraph.

It must be from Uncle.

Oh, drat.

No. It's from Lady Pitman.

She's sending back that statue we sent her,

says it's a fraud.

"I am having it crated

and sent back to you at once. "

Was it a fraud, Peacock?

Life is a fraud, Master Michael.

Yes, Peacock.

Well, this is all right, isn't it?

This should fetch a good price at Sotheby's.

Well, if it arrives in one piece, sir.

Well, there's nothing else to sell.

Except the piano.

It's all right, Peacock, I'll answer it.

Michael Finsbury, do I presume?

- Yes?

- I'm your cousin, Morris Finsbury.

- Oh, do come in.

- Thank you.

- Isn't Uncle Joseph with you?

- Alas, no.

My dear uncle, like your beloved grandfather,

is of advancing years and declining health.

Grandfather will be disappointed.

May I take your coat?

No, thank you. No, thank you.

Uncle Joseph is naturally deeply concerned

with his brother's death - I mean, illness.

- Or is he already?

- Oh, no, no, not yet.

What a relief to us all.

I know you are a medical student, cousin,

so I need hardly remind you

that blood is thicker than water.

Yes, five times, as I believe.

Uncle Joseph is valiantly gathering

what remains of his strength

in order to come to London

in the next day or two

to be with his dear brother... at the end.

I do hope he will be in time.

Uncle Masterman is that low?

Yes.

Oh, I am filled with an immense grief...

that that proud and lovely man should...

Oh, my God.

Sir...

Sir, it's me - Maurice.

Oh, look at that noble face ravaged by time,

those eyes filled with pain.

Oh, I should never have forgiven myself,

if I hadn't seen you before.

- Cousin...

- But you shouldn't be out of bed.

- Cousin, this is our butler.

- No need to call him.

I can assist my own flesh and blood.

Who's the butler?

I have that honour, sir.

How dare you embrace me!

Grandfather is upstairs, sleeping.

All right, Peacock, you may go.

Thank you, Master Michael, sir.

Thank you, too, Colonel.

I, too, must be on my way, cousin.

I have some urgent, pressing business.

You will let us know

the moment Uncle Joseph arrives.

As soon as I've got the date.

That is, immediately.

A great pity, cousin, that grief is the agent

responsible for bringing us together

after all these years.

Cousin Morris had no trousers on, Peacock.

If you say so, sir.

For heaven's sake, Julia.

Oh, it's you, Morris. I thought it was

the Bournemouth strangler.

It says in the papers he might be in London.

Do I look like the Bournemouth Strangler?

Well... yes, you could be, Morris.

Why are you wearing that strange coat?

Because it suits me to wear it.

I think you should have it shortened.

Isn't Uncle Joseph with you?

Er... no, erm...

the news in The Telegraph came

as a great shock to him.

He is remaining in Bournemouth

with Cousin John.

And now I must bid you good night.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes