Victim Page #4

Why go looking for trouble?

If I hadn't been trying so bloody hard to

avoid trouble, this might never have happened.

But it has, and they're not

going to get away with it.

Well, if you dig this over it

could end in one hell of a scandal.

And it wouldn't only

be you who came down.

I know that.

I:

- I can't help you. I don't know anything.

You don't have to know anything.

All you have to do is to watch

- Watch for fear.

Fear is the oxygen of blackmail.

If Barrett was paying,

others are. Find me one.

You're crazy, Mr. Farr.

- You're not thinking properly.

- Stone, are you going to help me or not?

Okay, I'll listen around.

I'd like to get 'em too.

Just remember, if you do run 'em down...

You'll bring yourself down as well.

Call me here.

I'll call ya.

Bye.

They should be there first

thing in the morning, P.H.

Good.

There they go, P.H. Homing pigeons.

Hope they come back with

their little beaks bulging.

Let's have a sherry at the

Chequers. I'd love to hear the chat.

They'll all be talking

about boy Barrett.

- Who'd have thought he'd do a thing like that?

- Who would?

It's shaken me, P.H. I wish

we could go back to Cheltenham.

Just a while longer, Mickey.

We'll wind it up soon.

- We cross now, don't we?

- Yes.

I'm ready to go to the post, Mr. Doe.

Mr. Doe.

I'm ready to go to the post.

Boy is dead.

He hanged himself.

It's in the paper.

I must go to the post.

Will you please come in the shop?

No.

Close the shop.

Pull down the blinds.

Miss benham, if anyone comes

asking questions about boy-

I'm not interested in your affairs, Mr.

Doe. I'm just here for the salary on Friday.

I only meant to teach him a lesson.

I thought he'd come back.

Thought he'd come back.

They don't know anything

except what's in the papers.

My God, that's enough, isn't it?

Henry the Comb looks

like death warmed up.

Shh. The troll's speaking.

She said, "Barrett never had a penny to bless

himself with. What happened to the money?"

I could answer that in one.

Phip's moving up now. Madge

is pushing the boat out.

Safe for him to come alongside.

I've lost them now.

Fill up the glasses, Mickey. A

tio Pepe, please, not this treacle.

Certainly, P.H.

Come on. Another drink all

round and you'll feel better.

Thanks, Madge. I

- I'll sink a jar.

I'm fush this week. Modeling

for Mandrake. Luxury fridges.

- Mandrake's good to you.

- Mmm.

Old pals act.

We were in rep together 20

years ago at Bournemouth.

Not for me, thanks, Madge.

Don't feel like drinking today.

Well, I'm off.

- Bye, all.

- Bye, Henry.

For a man sitting on a gold mine,

Henry looks pretty miserable.

Henry sold his gold mine.

- What?

- What did you say?

Yes. Bloke over there. He's the

estate agent who did the sale.

Think I'll slide now, sport. So long,

Madge. Have one with me next time.

That'll be the day.

- Fred.

- Yeah?

- Here.

- Hmm?

Who's the bloke in the

pinstripe? He keeps looking at me.

I don't know.

Used to come in the wheatsheaf

when I was there. A real lone wolf.

I'd better go. See you.

- So long, Eddy.

- Yeah. Cheers.

- I don't know how you can stand 'em.

- Who?

Eddy and Phip and the rest of them.

All the same, the whole blooming lot.

I thought they amused you.

Oh, they're good for a laugh,

all right. Very witty at times.

Generous too. And I

hate their bloody guts.

- Hey!

- Well, don't look at me like that.

Well, they're just not quite normal,

dear. What's it matter to you?

If they had gamy legs or

something, you'd be sorry for them.

Sorry for 'em? Not me.

It's always excuses. Every

newspaper you pick up, it's excuses.

Environment. Too much love as

kids. Too little love as kids.

They can't help it. Part of nature.

Well, to my mind it's the

weak, rotten part of nature...

And if they ever make it legal they may

as well license every other perversion.

Come on, Mickey. This

place is getting boring.

Let's go and see what

the postman brought us.

Should be a nice bag today. I think our

little efforts might be very well rewarded.

Good day, gentlemen, good

day. Tomorrow, I hope.

Insincere bastard.

Well, what else can you be in this game?

Eddy, I just saw you passing.

- Sold your shop?

- Who told you that?

Fred at the Chequers. He

heard from the estate agent.

- Why? Is it a secret?

- No, of course not.

But I wish people would mind

their own business, that's all.

Anyway, I am off on thursday.

Eddy, I am sorry about boy.

- You'll miss him.

- Yes.

If you're sending any fowers,

put a few blooms in for me.

Yes, I will.

Well, good-Bye then.

Yes. Good-Bye. Good luck.

- Chilly today, sir.

- Yes.

Take a seat, sir.

Shan't keep you a minute.

Well, I'm not sure it'll lead anywhere.

A chap I know, he's got a

good hairdressing business...

And he's been acting jumpy lately.

Well, now he's suddenly

decided to sell out.

Yeah, but it could be he's

being squeezed as well.

What's his address?

And his name?

I'd like to catch him

just before he closes.

Well, I must hang up

'cause I've got customers.

Yeah. Henry's of Harbourne Street.

Right. Bye.

- Thank you.

- Thank you.

Uh, Mr. Henry?

- I'm sorry, sir. We're just closing.

- This won't take very long.

It's a private matter.

- I'll be off then, Mr. Henry.

- That's all right, George. I'll close up.

- Good night.

- Good night.

- I understand you're selling this place.

- Who told you that?

- You're being blackmailed, aren't you?

- What are you talking about?

- I don't know what you're talking about.

- But you are selling this place, aren't you?

I haven't told anyone where

I'm going. Who are you?

And you're afraid of being

followed. Who's squeezing you, Henry?

I don't know!

Who are you?

- You're from the police?

- No.

I'm a friend of someone you used to know

- Boy Barrett.

I want to know who killed him.

You can help me.

- How do you pay the money?

- I don't remember. I'm not saying anything.

I can't help the way I am, but

the law says I'm a criminal.

I've been to prison four times.

I couldn't go through

that again, not at my age.

I'm going to Canada.

I've made up my mind to be sensible,

as the prison doctor used to say.

I don't care how lonely, but sensible.

I can't stand any more trouble.

I'm sorry about boy Barrett,

but he's dead, finished.

Nothing can help him now.

Barrett's death was murder.

Do you want that to go unpunished?

Who -

Who are you?

Melville Farr. I'm a barrister.

The blackmailer can't

reach you in Canada.

Tell me how you pay the

money and let me deal with it.

It wouldn't help.

- Do you know anyone else who's paying?

- No. No!

- I think you do.

- I'm not saying another word, Mr. Farr.

My number's in the book.

- If you change your mind, let me know.

- Not a chance.

I've got myself to think of.

Nature played me a dirty trick.

I'm going to see I get a few

years peace and quiet in return.

You've got a big position.

They'd listen to you.

You ought to be able to state our case.

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