MAN: When I was a lad,
a journey down the rivers of England was a truly blithe experience.
"Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive," as Wordsworth has it.
Brooklime 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 foreign...
Look!
What is it?
It's a woman!
What's that 'round her neck?
She's been strangled!
MAN 1: Looks like a tie.
MAN 2: Yes, it's a tie, all right.
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? That's what I'd like to know.
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 once,
wrapped in a bit of violet writing paper.
That'll do, Herb. I'm quite sure the lady
doesn't want to hear any more about it.
Or was it a bit of a liver?
I say, it's not my club tie, is it?
FORSYTHE: Cheers, Squadron Leader.
Chin chin.
Good morning.
Look, 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.
Oh, yeah, I'm sure you were.
Well, that's the last drink you're gettin' on this house. Go on. Get out.
I told you I was going to pay for it.
I always pay for my drinks.
Even for your watered-down gin.
Now, don't come the innocent with me, you bastard!
My stocks have been well down this past month.
Now, you watch what you're saying!
What, to 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? Well, I work with him, don't I?
And what else?
What's that supposed to mean?
Look, just keep out of this, will you, Babs? Come on, Blaney, outside.
FORSYTHE: You're fired. BABS: You can't do that.
He never stole nothing in his life.
He puts the money in the till. I've seen him.
A thief or a boozer, it's all the same to me.
I don't need either one as a barman,
quite apart from the fact that half the time
he's pulling your tits instead of pulling pints.
Now, look here... He can't keep his hands off you.
The customers are always talking about it.
And what about you? Always fingering me.
You 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 £10 I advanced you on your salary.
Are you planning to steal that as well?
There you are. You know what to do with them.
You shouldn't let him talk to you like that.
I know.
What are you gonna do, love?
I don't know.
Another pub perhaps.
Are you all right?
You just gave him back the 10 quid you borrowed.
I had to. He didn't think I had it.
Don't worry, I've got a bit left.
Well, 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 wouldn't leave it alone.
He's the boss' brother-in-law, isn't he?
Forsythe? Yeah, 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 have a chat with your ex?
She's doin' all right, isn't she?
I haven't seen her for ages, as you know.
There's no use opening all that up again.
No, I suppose not.
Well, as I say, you can always rely on me.
You're all right for a few quid?
Yes. Thanks all the same.
'Cause 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.
Here you are. 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.
Well, at least you won't starve to death.
(CHUCKLES)
Are you sure you don't need a few bob?
No, I'm okay.
Well, you don't look okay. Anything else the matter?
No. What should be?
I don't know.
Well, 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.
Hey, wait a minute. Here, 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.
Now, this is a four-horse race,
and the other three have all won before.
So she'll start about 20-to-1, maybe more.
20-to-1?
Put your word on it. She can't lose.
A little birdie told me, and my little birdies are reliable.
Well, thanks again, Bob.
Anytime.
Don't forget, Bob's your uncle.
Good morning, Mr. Rusk.
Hello, Sergeant. What's new?
Not much.
This necktie fellow's giving them a bit of a headache, though.
Can't seem to get a line on him.
Have you tried advertising?
Oh, very funny.
Look, you're one for the birds.
Ask 'em all if they've ever had a near miss
with a bloke like that, would you?
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.
Well, don't worry, Sergeant. I'll put the word about.
Thanks, Mr. Rusk.
(PEOPLE TALKING INDISTINCTLY)
A large brandy.
What're you gonna have, Doctor?
A pint and a morsel of cheese'll do me fine.
Let me order us a hot lunch. We have 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, then, 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.
Hmm.
I wouldn't envy the lot of any medical man giving evidence at that trial.
Why not?
Why, 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.
Well, I suppose it's nice to know
that 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,
whose conduct may revert to a primitive, subhuman level 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, you can 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 somehow expect the squares of London to be fog-wreathed,
full of hansom cabs and littered with ripped whores, don't you think?
RUSK: 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.
20-to-1! 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.
20-to-1!
20-to-bloody-1! Christ! Damn it to hell!
BARLING: 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 little efforts here so worthwhile.
You mean, you just don't do it for the money?
(LAUGHING)
Of course, 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?
Yeah. 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.
And there's nothing like a shared interest.
I'm sure we will be. Come on, Neville. Best foot forward.
SALT: I suppose 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?
And by the time he brought me my cup of tea,
which he did punctually 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, sir?
You can inform Mrs. Blaney
that one of her less successful exercises
in matrimony has come to see her.
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.
BRENDA: (ON SPEAKER) Mr. Blaney? Send him in, will you 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 then, Brenda?
You making a fortune?
Things are going very well.
Streets of London thronged with lonely hearts
beating a path to your door?
That's it.
I'm amazed that in an age
where practically everybody considers marriage is hell
that you can find any clients.
Okay, Richard, if you've just come around here to insult me,
I think, perhaps you...
I'm not insulting you, for Christ's sake!
Will 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.
BRENDA: Why do you always come to see me
when you've had too much to drink?
BLANEY: I don't always come to see you when I've had too much to drink.
As a matter of fact, 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 do hope we're not going to have a repeat of that.
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?
I thought tidiness was 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?
Well, 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 that is, as a barman.
And another thing. I was given a very good horse
by a great friend of mine, one Bob Rusk.
And it came in at 20-to-1,
and I didn't have enough cash on me 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.
Well, 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 any more of those, of course.
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.
What you mean is, that you're lucky
you haven't had to rely on me these past two years.
I didn't say that.
But you meant it.
Look, Richard, 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 going fine
till they opened the bloody 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, EFC. Do you remember the citation?
"For inspiring leadership, skill, and tenacity of purpose."
You divorced him. That's what happened to him.
Now, you tell me, what sort of skill
do you need to deal with shopkeepers and interfering bureaucrats?
(SHUSHING) Everyone's listening.
Well, let them.
I'll bet they've never had to tear down
their own livelihood with their own hands.
It's all right 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 all right?
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 all right, 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.
All right, but only for a few minutes, mind.
Okay, thanks. I won't need you.
(MAN 1 SNORING)
(MAN 2 COUGHING)
It just fell out of your pocket, guvnor, 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 a bit quiet, like, so as not to waken you.
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.
Well, I'm having my lunch just now.
If you want an appointment,
perhaps you'll be good enough to see my secretary.
By the way, how did you get in?
Oh, no problem, really.
Just a question of using your head.
I waited in the courtyard till 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.
And 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.
You're not the only matrimonial agency, you know.
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 till they're yours."
Now, that's me.