When I was a lad,
a journey on the rivers of England was a truly blithe experience.
"Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,"
as Wordsworth has it.
Brook lime and flag iris,
plantain and marsh marigolds rioted on the banks.
And kingfishers swooped and darted about,
their shadows racing over the brown trout.
Well, ladies and gentlemen,
I'm happy to be able to tell you
that these ravishing sights
will be restored to us again in the near future,
thanks to the diligent efforts of your government
and your local authority,
all the water above this point will soon be clear.
Clear of industrial effluent.
Clear of detergents.
Clear of the waste products of our society,
with which for so long we have poisoned our rivers and canals.
Let us rejoice
that pollution will soon be banished from the waters of this river,
and that there will soon be no -
- Look! - What is it?
It's a woman!
What's that 'round her neck?
She's been strangled!
- Looks like a tie. - Yes, it's a tie, alright.
Another necktie murder.
Come on. Move out of the way.
Please come away from here, Sir George.
- It's another necktie murder. - What are the police doing about it?
- Why can't they find him? - He's a regular Jack the Ripper.
Not on your life. He used to carve 'em up.
Sent a bird's kidney to Scotland Yard, wrapped in writing paper.
That'll do. I'm sure the lady doesn't want to hear more.
Or was it a bit of her liver?
I say, it's not my club tie, is it?
Cheers, Squadron Leader.
- Chin, chin. - Good morning.
It may come as something of a surprise to you, Blaney,
but in this pub we sell liquor, we don't give it away.
Still less do we expect our employees to steal it.
I was going to pay for it.
Yeah, I'm sure you were. Get out.
I told you I was going to pay for it. I always pay for my drinks.
Even for your watered-down gin.
Don't come the innocent with me, you bastard!
My stocks have been well down this past month.
Watch what you're saying!
- What, you're a thief? - What's going on?
Our friend here says that I've been pinching his booze.
- Ridiculous! He always pays. - How would you know?
- I work with him, don't I? - And what else?
- What's that mean? - Keep out of this. Blaney, outside.
- You're fired. - He never stole nothing in his life.
He puts the money in the till. I've seen him.
A thief or a boozer, I don't need either one as a barman,
And he's usually pulling your tits instead of pulling pints.
He can't keep his hands off you, so the customers say.
What about you? Always fingering me.
Keep your lying mouth shut, Babs, or you can get out as well.
I'm off. Keep the change!
I'll send for my things later.
Just a minute!
There's a little matter of ten pounds I advanced you on your salary.
Are you planning to steal that as well?
There you are.
You know what to do with them.
- Don't let him talk to you like that. - I know.
- What are you gonna do, luv? - I don't know.
- Another pub perhaps. - Are you alright?
- You just gave him back that tenner. - I had to.
He didn't think I had it. Don't worry, I've got a bit left.
This is Covent Garden, not the garden of love.
How 'bout starting work?
Oh, get stuffed!
- Look after yourself. - I'll call you.
Thanks, guv.
- Hello, Dick. - Hello, Bob.
I was just coming over for a quick one.
Why aren't you back there polishing the sausages or watering the gin,
or whatever it is you do there before opening time?
I have just been given the push.
What for? You weren't pissing in the beer again?
- Forsythe and I had a set-to. - Oh, him.
- You duffed him up I hope. - He's a bastard.
He was on my back right from the start.
From squadron leader to barman in one easy lesson!
He's the boss' brother-in-law, isn't he, Forsythe?
I think so.
Brother-in-laws are the worst.
Or should I say, "brothers-in-law"?
- What are you gonna do now? - I haven't decided yet.
Well, if you're in "schtuk," you know where to come.
Thanks.
George!
- That's the last one. - Thanks, Mr. Rusk.
Why don't you go and see your ex? She's doin' alright, isn't she?
I haven't seen her for ages, as you know.
- There's no use reopening all that. - No, I suppose not.
Well, as I say, you can always rely on me.
- You're alright for a few quid? - Yes. Thanks all the same.
- Cos if you're not... - No, no. Really. I just got paid.
Well... have some grapes.
Here you are. I'll get you a box.
Finest muscats, fresh in this morning.
Take one of these back to your girlfriend, Babs.
Get her to peel you one. "Beulah, peel me a grape."
That's what my ol' mum used to say when I was a kid.
At least you won't starve to death.
- Are you sure you don't need cash? - No, I'm OK.
Well, you don't look OK. Anything else the matter?
- No. What should be? - I don't know.
Remember, anything I can do, anytime, it's a pleasure.
Ta.
It won't be the same in the Old Globe now.
- Well, Babs is still there. - Yeah, that's true.
- And she's prettier than you. - A matter of opinion.
- Bye, now. - Wait a minute. Give us your paper.
Here you are. This will make you a fortune.
This afternoon in the 3:00, Coming Up.
Never been out before, but very well-fancied at home.
This is a four-horse race, and the other three have all won before.
- So she'll start about twenty to one. - Twenty to one?
Put your wad on it. She can't lose.
A little birdie told me, and my little birdies are reliable.
Thanks again, Bob.
- Don't forget, Bob's your uncle. - Good morning, Mr. Rusk.
Hello, Sergeant. What's new?
Not much. But this necktie fellow's giving them a bit of a headache.
Can't seem to get a line on him.
- Have you tried advertising? - Funny! You're one for the birds.
Ask 'em all if they've ever had a near miss with a bloke like that.
- Or if any of their girlfriends have. - Sure.
Mind you, half of them haven't got their heads screwed on right,
let alone knowing when they've been screwed off.
Have you met my friend Dick B...
Funny fella.
- Don't worry. I'll ask around. - Thanks, Mr. Rusk.
A large brandy.
- What're you gonna have, Doctor? - A pint and some cheese'll do me fine.
Let me order us a hot lunch. We've plenty of time.
- Hello, Mr. Usher. - What's good today, Maisie?
Stick to the shepherd's, I would.
Right. That's two shepherd's pies, please.
And two pints.
I see our necktie murderer's been up to it again.
I saw the newspaper headlines as we came away from the court.
I wouldn't envy any medical man giving evidence at that trial.
- Why not? - Surely it's easier in these days of...
legally diminished responsibility.
In many cases you may be right.
But not here.
The man who's killing these women is a criminal, sexual psychopath.
And the legal profession has never really known how to treat them.
I suppose you could call them social misfits.
We were just talking about the tie murderer, Maisie.
- You better watch out. - He rapes 'em first, doesn't he?
Yes, I believe he does.
I suppose it's nice to know every cloud has a silver lining.
Oh!
On the surface, in casual conversation
they appear as ordinary, likable adult fellows.
But emotionally they remain as dangerous children,
who may revert to primitive, subhuman conduct at any moment.
- Large brandy. - You mean they'll kill at any time,
- just as the mood takes them? - Exactly.
And, being governed by the pleasure principle,
they're particularly dangerous when their desires are being frustrated.
- Are you deaf? - I distinctly said a large brandy.
There's scarcely enough in that to cover the bottom.
Actually, make it a triple.
I wonder if the police have got any sort of line on this fellow.
Oh, I shouldn't think so.
With psychopaths there's usually no linking motive.
Let's hope he slips up soon.
In one way, I rather hope he doesn't.
Well, we haven't had a good, juicy series of sex murders since Christie.
And they're so good for the tourist trade.
Foreigners expect the squares of London to be fog-wreathed,
full of hansom cabs and littered with ripped whores, don't you think?
Hey, Dick!
What about Coming Up then?
No, I'm afraid I haven't any time. Thanks all the same.
No, Coming Up, the horse. It won by a mile.
Twenty to one! What did I tell you?
- Made a fortune. Thanks a lot. - Anytime.
Hey, wait a minute!
This is my ma. Ma, meet Dick Blaney,
the best pilot who ever pulled a pint of beer.
- Hello, Mrs. Rusk. - Pleased to meet you, I'm sure.
She lives down in Kent, in the Garden of England!
- Still got the grapes then? - Oh, yeah. Keep 'em for later.
You tell her to take the pips out. They're bad for the appendix.
- Ta-ta! - Bye. Thanks again for the tip.
I told you, Bob's your uncle.
Twenty to one!
Twenty to bloody one! Christ! Dammit to hell!
Well, my dears,
I'm sure I can say on behalf of Mrs. Blaney as well as myself,
that it's moments like this that make all our efforts here worthwhile.
You mean, you just don't do it for the money?
Mrs. Davisson, this is a business, and financial considerations prevail.
But our ultimate satisfaction is the making happy of two lonely people.
Nice of you, Miss Barling. Keep up the good work!
Well, it's up to us now, I guess, eh?
Yes. And good-bye, Mr. Salt.
Bye, Miss Barling. Thank you.
It's been our pleasure. And I know you'll both be very happy.
After all, I know you're both mad about beekeeping.
- It's good to share an interest. - I'm sure we will be.
Come on, Neville. Best foot forward.
We should go straight and get the marriage license, my dear.
What's your rush?
Let's go to my place first.
Did you know, Neville, that my late husband, Mr. Davisson,
was up at 5:30 every morning of his life?
By the time he brought me my cup of tea, which he did at 9:15,
he would've cleaned the whole house; and he was so quiet about it,
that in 14 years, he never woke me once.
Not once!
Oh, a neat man, was he, then?
He liked a tidy place. So do I, come to that.
Dandruff. We'll have to get you something for that.
Afternoon.
You're new here, aren't you?
I've been here for over a year now. What can I do for you?
You can inform Mrs. Blaney
that one of her less successful exercises in matrimony is here.
- And who shall I say is calling? - Mr. Blaney.
Or if you preferred it, ex-Squadron Leader Blaney,
late of the RAF and Mrs. Blaney's matrimonial bed.
I see. Is Mrs. Blaney expecting you?
She must be. Everybody expects a bad penny to turn up sooner or later.
Mrs. Blaney, there's a Mr. Blaney to see you.
Mr. Blaney? Send him in, please, Monica.
- Hello, Brenda. - Hello, Richard.
What are you doing here?
I just thought I'd call around.
- Well, come in. Take a seat. - Thanks.
It's good to see you.
You too. You look fine.
I'll be with you in a minute. I've got to finish writing up a few notes.
How is everything, Brenda?
- You making a fortune? - Things are going very well.
Streets of London full of lonely hearts beating a path to your door?
That's it.
I'm amazed that in an age where we nearly all think marriage is hell
- that you can find any clients. - If you've just come to insult me -
- I'm not insulting you! - Please lower your voice.
Why? I don't care if Vinegar Joe out there does hear me.
Why don't you get her married off, by the way?
Preferably to a 700-pound Japanese wrestler.
That should iron out some of her creases a little.
Monica, dear, it's nearly 4:30.
Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off?
I'm sure there's some shopping you'd like to do.
Well, thank you, Mrs. Blaney, if you're sure you don't need me.
I'm quite sure, thank you. Good night.
Why do you always come to see me when you're drunk?
I don't always come to see you when I'm drunk.
I don't always come to see you. I haven't seen you for over a year.
You were half seas over then, and violent.
- I'm not going through that again. - Me violent?
Don't be bloody ridiculous.
Would I raise a hand to the goddess of love?
What Brenda Blaney brings together let no man put asunder!
I didn't say you were violent to me.
But you certainly acted the fool and threw the furniture about a bit.
Just look at the state you're in!
- Really! - Oh, leave me alone.
Bachelors are supposed to be untidy, aren't they?
Isn't tidiness most women's dowry, or don't you preach that here?
Oh, we are bitter today.
- What's the matter? - I'm sorry.
I had a bad day, that's all. I lost my job.
How?
I got fired, that's how. What do you think, I mislaid it?
For pinching a glass of brandy.
My employer thought I wasn't going to put the money in the till.
Till?
I was working, until this morning, as a barman.
And I was given a very good horse by a friend of mine, one Bob Rusk.
It came in at twenty to one, and I didn't have enough cash to back it.
I'm sorry.
Well, these things always go in threes.
I wonder what the rest of the day has in store.
Dinner with me, I hope.
That, of course, would be delightful, but -
I mean, of course, on me. We'll go to my club.
But I must finish these letters first.
Here's the address, in case you've forgotten it.
How will it be if we meet there 'round about 7:30?
Fine.
Thanks for a lovely evening. It was great. I mean that.
Thanks for joining me.
It was a damn sight better than the leftovers at The Globe,
not that I'm in for more of those.
You ought to get married again, Richard.
Oh, no. You ought to know I'm no good at it. How long did we have?
- Nine years, was it? - Ten.
Ah, ten years. It was a good job you got out when you did.
I don't know. I suppose I was lucky the agency worked out for me.
You mean, you're lucky you haven't had to rely on me.
- I didn't say that. - But you meant it.
I suppose some people are good at organization and others aren't.
- That's all I meant. - And I'm not, I suppose.
Rubbish! You know what filthy luck I had.
Was it my fault that the roadhouse didn't go?
- It was OK before the motorway. - I know.
Was it my fault the council tore down the riding stables?
I know. I know life can be very unfair.
But you never used to be sorry for yourself.
Where's the Richard Blaney I married?
Richard Blaney, DFC. Do you remember the citation?
"For inspiring leadership, skill,
and tenacity of purpose.'
You divorced him. That's what happened to him.
Tell me, what sort of skill do you need to deal with shopkeepers
- and interfering bureaucrats? - Shh. Everyone's listening.
Let them. I'll bet they've never had to tear down their own livelihood.
It's alright for you. You just go and build it up somewhere else.
You're like that. You're good at business.
I'll bet they're all good at business here.
I'll bet you're making a fortune out of that agency.
And why not? If you can't make love, sell it.
The respectable kind, of course. The married kind!
Now look what you've done.
- Oh, sir. Let me help you. - Leave me alone!
I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.
Come on. We'd better go.
Will you be alright?
You did say you hadn't enough money to put on that horse.
Don't worry. You've done enough for one day.
- You had a coat too, didn't you? - Yeah. That one there.
Mine's the pink one.
No, no, no. That's not allowed.
Rules of the club.
Thank you.
It's alright, Richard. I've got it here. Thank you.
So, this is it, huh?
Can I come in? I'd like to see where you live.
Go along now. Run along home. It's late.
- You call this late? - It's late enough for a working girl.
Come on, Brenda. I won't be long, I promise.
Alright, but only for a few minutes, mind.
OK, thanks. I won't need you.
It just fell out of your pocket onto the floor.
And I was just putting it back... when you were asleep.
It sort of jerked out like on the floor.
I was putting 'em in quiet like so as not to waken you.
Keep your hands out of my pockets, or I'll break your arms!
Honestly, there's nothing I detest more than someone taking liberties
with a fine gentleman like yourself.
Oh, it's you again, Mr. Robinson.
Yes, I'm afraid so.
I'm having my lunch just now.
If you want an appointment, perhaps you'd see my secretary.
- By the way, how did you get in? - No problem, really.
Just a question of using your head.
I waited in the courtyard 'til I saw her go out to lunch.
- It all seems a bit elaborate. - Yeah, perhaps, but -
You're the one I wanted to see.
I thought I'd already explained to you that we cannot help you.
Oh, come on now. I know that you can be most helpful, when you try.
Look, Mr. Robinson, you want women of a specific type.
How shall I put it?
Certain peculiarities appeal to you,
and you need women to submit to them.
Here we have, I'm afraid, a very normal clientele.
As I say, we can do nothing for you.
Now if you'll kindly let me get on with my lunch.
I don't think you're really trying your best for me.
I mean, if you can fix up a lot of idiots, then why not me? Hmm?
I've explained. You're different.
How so?
I have my good points.
I like flowers,
and... fruit.
People like me.
I've got things to give.
I'm sorry.
I thought matrimonial agencies were supposed to bring people together?
Not people like you.
Somehow I don't think our clients would appreciate
your conception of a loving relationship.
I get on with all sorts of people.
Good. Then you don't need us.
- There are other marriage agencies. - Then go elsewhere.
Not that any reputable agency would service you.
I've been elsewhere.
But... this one, for me, is the best...
because... I like you.
You're... my type of woman.
- Don't be ridiculous. - I'm serious.
I respect a woman like you,
and I know how to treat you as well.
You know, in my trade we have a saying.
We put it on the fruit.
"Don't squeeze the goods 'til they're yours."
Now, that's me.
I would never do that.
You know that, don't you?
Excuse me. I've just remembered a call I've got to make.
There's no need to call the police.
What made you think I was going to call the police?
Just intuition, I suppose.
Oh! English?
Yeah, of course it is.
That's a very frugal lunch you've got there.
Frugal...
and mean.
Certainly not enough to support a lady with your opulent figure.
Rather too opulent, I'm afraid, these days; hence the frugality.
Why don't you come out and have a slap-up lunch with me?
I really can't leave the office just now.
- I'd buy you the best lunch in town. - No, I c-
Alright. It's a deal.
You mean it? You'll come and have lunch with me?
Of course.
Just let me wash my hands. Aah!
- I thought we were going to lunch. - Yes, of course we're going to lunch.
Afterwards.
Aah!
Alright. I know what you want, but not here.
- Let's go back to my place. - But this is your place.
You've got nothing to worry about here.
- My secretary may come back soon. - Really?
How long do you give her to eat her frugal lunch?
Fifteen minutes. She may be here any minute.
The outside door is locked.
She's got her own key.
I don't believe you.
Do you know what happens to wicked girls who tell wicked lies?
Don't worry. Don't worry.
You've got nothing to worry about.
Agh!
Leave me alone. Please!
T-Take the money out of my bag,
but please, leave me alone.
In my bag there's enough money to buy any woman you want. It's yours.
Take it! Just take it!
I don't buy women. It's you I want. You're my type.
You are. Yes.
You are my type of woman.
L-Let me answer the telephone.
If you don't, the caller will come here in person.
I told you, I locked the outer door. We won't be disturbed.
Oh, God!
Leave me alone.
Alright. Alright, I won't struggle.
But I like you to struggle. A lot of women like to struggle.
Please, don't tear my dress.
I'll take it off if you like.
Lovely.
Thou shall not be afraid for the terror by night.
Lovely.
Nor for the arrow which flieth by day.
Lovely.
Nor for the pestilence which walketh in darkness.
Lovely!
Nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.
Lovely.
He shall give His angels charge over thee, to guard thee in all thy ways.
Lovely!
Lovely.
You... bitch!
Women! They're all the same.
They are.
I'll show you.
My God! The tie!
Dear Jesus, help me. Help me.
Hello?
Anyone there?
Brenda, it's Richard.
Hello.
Hello, Globe? May I speak to Barbara Milligan?
Is that you, Blaney? Listen, you've got a bloody nerve
ringin' up here in my busiest time.
I don't know where she is. She's probably in the other bar.
I most certainly will not nip 'round and fetch her. She's busy.
- Hello, Dickie. Is that you? - Hurry up. It's not a singles club.
- Here, guv. Give us a pint. - Yeah?
I'm fine. How are you?
I'm OK. Look, I need my things,
but I don't particularly fancy meeting Forsythe.
Do you think you could put 'em in my bag and meet me this afternoon?
Are you sure? I don't want to mess things up for you.
Don't worry. It's my half day today. Where shall I meet you?
I'll be opposite the Leicester Square Odeon, 4:00. OK?
OK, at 4:00. I've gotta run now. Bye.
Don't start lending him money. You'll never get it back.
Mind your own business.
- He's no good for you, Babs. - And you are?
Hey, guv! Take a whiff of this!
How far from here was the place you had lunch, Miss Barling?
About five or ten minutes.
Good afternoon, sir.
Good afternoon, one and all. This is Miss Barling, sir.
- Would you do the honors? - Certainly, sir.
The murdered woman is a Mrs. Brenda Blaney.
She ran this business, and was found by her secretary, Miss Barling,
on her return from lunch at approximately 2:00, sir.
- Afternoon. - Afternoon, sir.
- Has Miss Barling any ideas? - She certainly has.
She says she saw the murdered woman's ex-husband
leaving the building just as she came back, sir.
I saw him clear as day. It was Blaney, alright.
He came out of the door downstairs and walked down the alley.
The beast!
I'm sorry, Miss Barling. I must press you.
Are you sure it was Mr. Blaney?
Absolutely! I'd know him anywhere.
He came here yesterday afternoon, and was perfectly horrid.
He'd been drinking and insisted on seeing Mrs. Blaney.
- And did he see her? - Yes. She'd never turn anyone away.
- What happened? - Oh, I don't know.
They started having a row almost immediately.
Mrs. Blaney came out and said I might go.
Quite naturally I didn't want to embarrass her, so I left.
I couldn't help overhearing that Mr. Blaney was becoming very violent,
both in his language and his behavior.
- Did he strike Mrs. Blaney? - Yes, I think so.
- There was the sound of a blow. - I see.
Miss Barling, could you describe Mr. Blaney for us?
What he looked like, what he was wearing and so on.
Yes, I think I can.
He was a man in his thirties, about an inch or so under six foot tall.
He had dark hair, green eyes and a moustache.
I estimate his weight at about 155 pounds.
He was wearing a rather old-fashioned jacket
with leather patches on the shoulders and elbows.
In my opinion, it was quite unsuitable for London.
He was also carrying a raincoat.
That's an extraordinarily precise description, Miss Barling.
In my job I've learned to keep a sharp eye on men, Inspector.
Excuse me.
I found this handbag on the desk, and there's no sign of any money.
That doesn't make sense.
I cashed a cheque for 50 pounds for her yesterday lunchtime.
It makes perfect sense to me. Where does she put her money in this bag?
- Sometimes she zips it in the pocket. - Mmm.
Have this face powder identified, will you, Sergeant?
There might be some on the stolen money. We might be lucky.
Alright, sir.
What about fingerprints?
With all the clowns who come in here, there'll be dozens.
Coburg Hotel, Bayswater.
Hey, wait a moment. How can you afford a hotel?
- I'll tell you later. - OK.
- So, what you been up to, Dick? - Well, last night
I allowed myself to be pampered at a Salvation Army hostel.
I tell you, after mixing with some of the types in there,
one's clothing needs fumigation.
- Smell that. - Whew!
- You mean you slept there? - Yeah... spasmodically.
- What? With all the old men? - Yes, that's it.
We had a high old time. The conversation was mature,
the Red Biddy flowed down the odd throats,
and the good fellowship of the open road prevailed.
- Red Biddy. What's that? - Blended red wine.
Half vino, half metholated spirits.
- But why, Dick? - Reasonable terms for bachelors.
- Thirty pence a night, in fact. - I don't understand.
How can you afford the Coburg?
Well, I managed to get some money.
- Since last night? - Yeah.
- I, uh, I collected an old debt. - That was lucky.
Yeah.
OK.
Oooh!
Thank you.
- Double room, please. - What are you up to? Not here!
- Ssh. - Would that be with two singles,
or the, uh, matrimonial-size bed?
The mat... Double bed.
- Please. - Yes. I see.
Three-two-two should suit you. The Cupid Room.
- Really? - Yes. It's very cozy.
- If you'll just sign the register. - Yes, of course.
Mr. and Mrs. Oscar Wilde.
- Now, look here, Dick Blaney! - Oscar, if you don't mind.
- Will you stop playing games! - Excuse me.
That'll be ten pounds, plus service charge of two pounds.
Perhaps you'd care to settle now?
- There we are. - Thank you.
- Room, please? - Three-two-two, Bertie.
Follow me, please.
You've got 322. That's nice.
Yes. The Cupid Room, I think she called it.
Love's little arrows have struck quite a few hearts in there, I can tell you.
Oh, yeah.
Can I get you anything from the pharmacy, sir?
No, thank you.
- Ta. - Thank you, sir.
- Hey! - Sir?
Hang on. Can you send this to the cleaners for me?
- Certainly, sir. - And this. Tell them that it's urgent.
And, uh, might as well take the other half as well.
Tell them that I want them sprayed.
Sprayed, sir? With what?
- DDT, my good man. What else? - Sir?
Death to the lurking roach, porter. Confusion to the insidious louse.
- Get 'em cleaned and pressed, eh? - Yes, sir.
Oh, dear!
Hey, Glad, take a look at this.
Oh! Oh, that poor woman.
It's the jacket I'm talkin' about. The jacket! See what it says?
"The police want to interview a man seen leaving the matrimonial agency
about the time of the murder."
"When last seen he was wearing a tweed jacket with leather patches
on the shoulders and elbows and carrying a raincoat.'
- What an odd way to patch a jacket. - It's meant to be like that!
The party in 322 was wearin' it.
Do you mean... Do you mean Mr. Oscar Wilde?
That's not his real name, silly. Oscar Wilde, indeed!
He's the fellow the police are looking for.
Don't you see? He's the necktie murderer.
And we've got him upstairs at this very minute!
Oh, dear! I only hope that girl isn't wearing a necktie right now.
I can't believe it! Not in the Cupid Room!
You know, Glad, sometimes just thinkin' about the lusts of men
makes me want to heave.
Hello. Will you give me the police, please?
Hello, police? I'm the porter of the Coburg Hotel, Bayswater.
Could you come at once? I've got this fellow you're looking for here.
You know, the necktie murderer?
He came here with a girl.
Come away, Glad. You're not to do anything suspicious.
Open up!
Open up! Police!
They must've gone down the back stairs.
But I ask you, in all conscience,
is it likely I would murder a woman I'd been married to for ten years?
If it was true, it would be horrible.
And rape her... after ten years of marriage? Violently rape her?
I don't know. Perhaps you was jealous of her.
- Of Brenda? Oh, come off it. - I didn't know Brenda. It's possible.
Maybe you wanted to get rid of her.
But I had got rid of her.
We were divorced, remember. We had been for two years.
There was no question of alimony. She earned far more than me.
You got that money from her, didn't you? You never collected a debt.
Well, yes, I did.
But she gave it to me the night before when we had dinner.
- Twenty pounds. - Why lie about it, then?
I suppose I was ashamed to admit it, that's all.
That makes sense, I suppose.
But if Brenda gave you that money, why'd you sleep in the doss house?
You could've afforded a hotel. I didn't realize that I had it.
She slipped it into the pocket of my raincoat.
Oh, go on, Dick. Why don't you pull the other one? It's got bells on it.
But it's true! I suppose she didn't want to embarrass me.
You've got to admit, it is pretty tall.
Not as tall as me sleeping in a doss house with 20 quid in my pocket!
If I knew I had it, I'd never have gone there, would I?
- Maybe. - Maybe! You smelled that jacket!
Would you sleep there if you didn't have to?
It wasn't that bad, that jacket.
I still think it's a bit suspicious, your sending it to the cleaners.
Suspicious of what?
In them sex cases, they always do a lab test on the clothes.
It stank to high heaven!
That's why. You know it did.
Barbara, I swear I'm telling the truth.