1
We're late enough already.
They've closed the doors. So come on.
It's a medical school lecture.
I want to see what the attraction is.
Psychology of crime.
- What?
- Psychology of crime? Come on.
I have a good mind to stay.
Who's the lecturer?
I'd stay if I were you.
He only lectures once a week.
Now you've got to stay.
Up to this point in the
present series of lectures
we've dealt exclusively
with abnormal mentalities.
I emphasize the fact that
in civilized communities
80 percent of our murderers
and violent criminals
are those whose minds
have been conditioned by
exceptional nervous stress
in an unhealthy environment.
Last Friday we dealt with the smaller
group of strictly moronic criminals.
And now we came to that much
more interesting phenomenon,
the sane criminal.
A man who is prepared to pursue
his own ethical convictions
even to the point of murder.
A man whose punishment is apt to weigh
heavily on the conscious of society
because his actions as likely
as not have been inspired by
just as great an integrity as those
of the men who sit in judgment.
At worse, he's an
irresponsible opportunist.
At the best he's a man with
a strong sense of justice,
even of mystic.
I propose to relay the case history
of a murderer of this class,
a perfectly sane,
valuable member of society.
I'd better give him
a fictitious name.
I'll give them all fictitious names
of all the characters in this case.
He was a surgeon.
We'll call him
Mr. Joyce, Mr. Michael Joyce.
He was well thought of
in the medical profession
and had a house ofhis own
inHolly Street.
His marriage had
been an unhappy one,
and he'd livedapartfrom
his wife for several years.
Consequently, he threw all ofhis
energy and interest into his work.
As a brainspecialist, he
operated in three London hospitals
and had developed a technique which considerably
reduced the mortality rate in hisfield.
He was reserved in his personal
relationships and had no close friends.
His only relaxation was to sit
at home and play the piano
or go to an occasional concert.
Otherwise, it was a life
devoted solely to work,
a life thatby normal standards was
unutterably lonely and empty.
But he never recognized this himselfuntil
he met a woman called EmmaWright.
When shefirst came into his consulting
room he hardly even noticed her.
She was just an ordinary
middle-class woman
who happened to have a daughter
who was going blind.
Sit down, Mrs. Wright.
Now, let's have a look
at this head of yours.
I gather it was an emergency
operation after an air raid.
Yes.
Now the eyesight is effected.
The eye specialist said there
was nothing he could do.
Can you see well
enough to read?
Not really.
I have the eye
specialist report.
Early optic atrophy.
This is a fairly serious
condition, Mrs. Wright.
The thingfor us to do is to
take her into the hospital,
make a thorough investigation so
as to establish the exact cause.
You wouldn't mind
that Ann, would you?
Would you?
Will it hurt?
No, we'll take
good care of you.
You want her to
go in right away?
I think she should.
Ann, come over here.
Sit down.
We don't want the atrophy
to become too far advanced.
Now Ann, I'm just going to
look into your eyes.
You see those two figures on the
mantelpiece, keep your eye on them.
My face will get in between
but don't look at me.
The personality
ofthe child's mother
remained at the time being a
matter of no great importance.
But after the child had been
submitted to a series of tests
andX-rays had proved that her trouble
was due to a smallforeign body
lodged arterially
to theoptic chiasma,
it became obvious that afairly
serious operation was necessary,
and the relationship between these
two became inevitably less remote.
Will it be very
dangerous, the operation?
To her life?
Mm-hmm.
There's always a risk
with a major operation.
How great a risk?
Mortality rate with this
operation is 1 percent.
And if you don't operate?
She'll go blind.
Oh, if only my husband were
here he'd know what to do.
I hate to go
ahead without him.
We will consider putting it
offfor a short time
if he's coming home soon.
Notfor seven
months, I'm afraid.
In that case then I
shouldn't advise it.
Every week that we let it go
it gets progressively worse.
I know.
I know you're right, but you
don't think she -
I mean, she couldn't be
in the 1 percent?
In my mind there's
no question at all.
I've met this problem
before on many occasions,
always with complete success.
I wish you felt
you could trust me.
It isn't that.
I'll do what you say.
Well I suggest we leave
Ann here at the hospital.
She's comfortable.
And I'll operate as soon as
it can be arranged, alright?
Alright.
There's nothing to it, Ann.
We give you something nice
to make you go to sleep,
and when you wake up
again it's all over,
and you'll be able to
see properly again.
Oh, Mommy, they want
to cut my hair off.
But darling, it
will grow again.
Oh, must I stay here, Mommy?
Mr. Joyce will take
great care of you.
Oh, don't go, please, Mommy.
How would you like your mother to
stay with you 'til you go to sleep?
Can't you stay with me
until I wake up again?
She can stay with you all
the time, if she likes.
Oh, yes, please, Mommy.
He says you can.
Alright, darling. I'll stay.
I'll see you later, Ann.
I won't be a minute.
For all his air of
quiet confidence,
the surgeon who is about tooperate is
often as nervous as a prima donna.
This was exaggerated in the present caseby
thefeverish devotion ofthe child's mother,
which had conveyed
itselftoMichaelJoyce,
and robbed him of
that cold detachment,
which is a doctor's
greatest strength.
Never before had
he been so acutely aware
ofthe identity ofthe piece ofhuman
material he was working on
as he took the scalpel
and made thefirst incision
and his assistant handed him
the artery forceps.
Stations on.
There were no
complications at all.
The child took the
anesthetic easily,
and the foreign body was located
and successfully removed.
A chiefsufferer, ofcourse,
was the wretched woman who had been pacingup
and down the waiting room for two hours.
She broke down as soon asMichaelJoyce
came in and made his report
and only
pulled herselftogether
when she remembered,
rather guiltily,
the promise she'd made to Ann to stay
with her throughout theoperation.
She was anxious to get back to her
before she came out ofthe anesthetic.
There was another woman
in the room with her,
whom she introduced as her
sister-in-law, aMrs.KatherineHoward,
a rather overdressed young lady
who seemed to have very little
interest in Ann 's welfare.
They had to wait some weeks to
find out whether theoperation
had actually succeeded
in saving Ann 'seyesight.
Meanwhile, they shared the daily
uncertainties and anxieties.
EmmaWright depended more and more on
thefeeling of confidence, which had gave her.
And when it became obvious that
Ann was on her way to recovery,
she was tremendously
grateful to him,
afeeling whichMichael
Joyce did not mistake,
but he knew that his own interest in
her was greater than it should be.
Without admitting
it to himself
he began to dread the day when
the job would be completed,
the day ofthe
final examination,
after which Ann and her mother would
return to their home in the country.
Ann and I went to the
pictures last night.
The first time
for over a year.
It was all colored.
Well, I don't suppose
we shall see you again.
I hope you will.
I hope so, too.
Not professionally, of course.
The sun's come out, Mommy.
We'll go into the
park, shall we?
Goodbye.
Are you really
going to the park?
Yes. Why?
Do you mind if I go with you?
Of course not.
But oughtn't you should tell
someone you're going out?
I'll tell them
when I get back,
and then there can be
no mistake about it.
He should have said goodbye when their
relationship came to its natural conclusion,
but
he couldn 't bring himselfto.
She represented all ofthe things
that were so painfully lacking
from a life devoted to textbooks
andoperating theaters.
She was so simple
and unaffected.
She told him about
Phillip, her husband,
how his work as a geologist had
kept them apartfor years at a time.
And now, he was going to give itup
so that they could be together.
She told him how they'd
hopedfor more children.
Having only one, she had
become all the more nervous
and possessive about Ann.
They went on seeing each other
andfind they have
the same tastes.
They both like music andfell into the
habit of going to concerts together.
Sometimes she'd come and
play the piano at his house.
I feel awfully guilty making
you drive out all this way.
It's alright.
I really should
have stayed in town,
only I hate leaving
Ann alone at night.
I'm relying on you
to show me the way.
I don't know this
part of the country.
Oh, I know the road.
Good.
Wait a minute.
Are we lost?
Oh, it's alright.
That's our chapel.
Your chapel?
Yes, you can see it
from my bedroom window.
Draw up when we come to it.
I must show it to you.
Alright.
There used to be great
ructions in the family about it.
When the wind's in our direction
you can hear them singing.
I rather like it.
The sound drifts across
and, oh, I don't know,
it's rather peaceful.
Some people hate it.
Kate was always trying to get
Phillip to sell the house.
That was before she
was married, of course.
Then after she came back here
after her husband was killed
she started all over again.
She says Clay always
plays out of tune.
- Who's Clay?
- Our gardener.
He plays the organ here.
Kate thinks we ought to get
rid of him because of it.
Why, does it affect
his gardening?
Oh, no.
It's just that Kate thinks that if hadn't
a job he might go into another district
and then there wouldn't be
anyone to play the organ.
Who's Kate?
My sister-in-law.
You met her one day
at the hospital.
Did I?
Don't you even remember
the people you meet?
I remember the important ones,
the ones I want to remember.
That's our house up there.
There's something I've been
wanting to ask you all evening.
- Yes?
- It's just -
are you divorced?
No.
Donna doesn't want a divorce.
Why do you ask?
Oh, no reason. I just wondered.
We ought to be going.
It must be awfully late.
When Emma
cameup to London for the day
she made a habit of
calling in at
Michael's house inHolly Street
after the day's shopping,
and often, they'd have dinner
together afterwards.
- Hello.
- Hello.
I'm sorry I had to
keep you waiting.
I got messed up with my
appointments this afternoon.
It doesn't matter.
Come and listen.
- What is it?
- It's a record Ann's made.
It almost sounds as though
she is a real pianist.
I'm trying to
think of what this.
- ""Madam, Will You Walk?""
- Oh, yes.
It's good. Is that really Ann?
Well, of course it is.
Quite a professional job.
Shh.
Oh, dash. I'll go back.
That was a mistake.
She always goes wrong there.
But we're going to have another
one made without any mistakes.
I'm practicing sorry.
She can play it, really.
This is where she goes wrong.
She used to play very well.
After the accident, of course,
she had to play from memory.
I made her go on practicing.
Emma, do you love
your husband?
Well, do you?
I don't know how to
answer that question.
But you know why I asked.
Yes.
Oh, Michael, I don't
know what to say.
Phillip and I have been
togetherfor so long.
I love you, Emma.
You shouldn't have told me.
If we kept quiet about it we might
have gone on seeing each other.
It wouldn't have worked.
I suppose not.
I wanted you to know.
I did know, Michael.
I've tried not
to recognize it.
I've tried to tell myself that something
would happen to make it alright.
Then I knew nothing could.
It could never be alright.
Neither of us is free
or ever likely to be.
There's nothing we
can do about it.
We won't see each other
again after today.
No.
I'll miss you.
Oh, Michael, so shall I -
dreadfully.
It became more and more difficultfor
them to end their association,
though
neither was happy about it.
Emma's husband was givingup the
work he liked so as to be with her,
and she was torn between
her loyalty towards him
and her love
forMichaelJoyce.
Finally, she decided to
write to her husband
and explain what had happened;
to ask him to release her.
I can't send it, can I?
No, you can't.
It would be too unfair.
It's Ann I'm thinking
of, of course.
Yes. Well, there's your answer.
It certainly wouldn't
be fair to her.
There's only one thing
for us to do, I'm afraid.
Goodbye, Michael.
No, don't come near me.
We must never
see each other again.
And they never did
see each otheragain.
Good morning, Mr. Joyce.
Good morning.
Isn't it terrible
about Mrs. Wright?
Mrs. Wright?
You remember, the mother
of the little girl.
Hello. I have anappointment
for 10 o'clock.
Oh, will you come in.
Will you take a seat
in here, please?
What about her?
Who? Oh, Mrs. Wright.
She fell out of a window
and broke her neck.
It was established
at the inquest
that the fatal fall took place at
about 6 o'clock in the evening.
The only other people in the house at the
time were the child, Ann, and a housemaid,
who testified that earlier in the afternoon Mrs.
Katherine Howard had visited the house.
Did you see Mrs. Howard leave?
Yes, sir. I saw her get
into a car and drive away.
At about what time?
A little before 6:00,
I should say, sir.
And it was some minutes
later that you heard a noise,
as if someone falling?
Yes, sir.
That will be all,
Miss Bond. Thank you.
Repeat after me.
- I swear by Almighty God.
- I swear by Almighty God.
- that I will speak the truth-
- that I will speak the truth -
- the whole truth -
- the whole truth -
- and nothing but the truth.
- and nothing but the truth.
You are Mrs. Katherine Howard?
Yes.
- And your address is?
- I live at the Arcadia Hotel.
Yes.
And what was your
relationship to the deceased?
She was my sister-in-law.
She was married to
my brother Phillip.
When did you last see
Mrs. Wright alive?
About 6 o'clock on the
evening of the accident.
I was with her
for about an hour.
You had an
engagement with her?
Well, not exactly
an engagement,
but she knew that
I might stop by.
Was she actually
expecting you to stop by?
Well, she wasn't
exactly expecting me,
but since my husband was killed
I've been in the habit of popping
in and out whenever I was nearby.
What happened
when you arrived?
Nothing.
Did you talk?
Yes, we chattedfor a while.
About anything in particular?
No, just talk.
Did she seem worried?
On the contrary, she
was very cheerful.
She was lookingforward to
her husband coming home.
Had she been suffering
from ill health?
Not at all.
Then there was nothing in her manner
to suggest that anything was wrong?
Certainly not.
Oh, but she did have a
great fear of heights.
She had a great
fear of heights.
Do you mean that she mentioned
it on this particular afternoon?
Well, no.
Why did you mention
it just now?
Well, it seemed to me the only possible
explanationfor her falling out of the window.
I see.
What was Mrs. Wright
doing when you left her?
She was in her room.
I think she was going to
turn out her stocking drawer.
Thank you, Mrs. Howard.
That will be all.
Come over here by me.
Now, Ann, you understand what is meant
by telling the truth, don't you?
Yes.
It's very important that you do because
I'm going to ask you a few questions,
and I want you to
answer them truthfully.
Tell me, when did you
last see your mother?
It was a little while
before I went to bed.
Where was your mother?
In her room.
Did you go in to talk to her?
I went to say goodnight.
And did you say goodnight?
Yes.
Did your mother seem normal?
Yes.
Tell me, Ann, was there
anyone with your mother?
No.
Nothing happened that
seemed unusual to you.
No.
Thank you. That will be all.
Repeat after me.
- I swear by Almighty God -
- I swear by Almighty God -
- that I will speak the truth -
- that I will speak the truth -
- the whole truth -
- the whole truth -
- and nothing but the truth.
- and nothing but the truth.
- Dr. Reynolds, is your name William Gant Reynolds?
- Yes.
- Do you practice in Gonville?
- Yes.
- Were you called in this case?
- Yes.
What time did you get there?
About 6:30 in the evening.
Was there anyone
with your mother?
No.
Will you be in to
dinner tonight, sir?
No. No, I've got to go out.
Very good, sir.
-You are Mrs.
KatherineHoward? -Yes.
- And your address is?
- I live at the ArcadiaHotel.
""I live at the Arcadia Hotel.""
Is Mrs. Katherine Howard in?
The party's in Mrs.
Deva's suite, Room 29.
Party?
Oh, I'm sorry, sir.
I thought perhaps you were one of the guests.
Um, yes. Yes, I am.
Room 29, second floor.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Oh, I'm so glad you
were able to come.
We're in such a muddle,
everybody seems to be here.
I won't have to introduce you.
Oh, look, there's
Joan Stark-Carter.
Joan, I want you to meet Mr. -
How do you do?
Albert, I can't bear to see people
without anything in their hands.
There.
Thank you.
Oh, dear, I might have
known she'd turn up.
Oh, darling, I'm so glad
you were able to come.
These are the ones
we ought to avoid.
Why, what's wrong with them?
After Jenny Deva's last party,
Judy Hammond went blind.
Permanently?
No, she's over
there somewhere.
There's Kate Howard and
on the day of the inquest.
What's she doing?
Put this down somewhere
for me will you?
Yes.
Excuse me.
You're being very unsociable.
There's someone here you'll adore.
She's longing to meet you.
Sylvia, darling, you
don't know Peter, do you?
- She's dying to meet you.
- How do you do?
Got a drink good. What on earth
is that waiter doing?
Is your name really Sylvia?
What's wrong with Sylvia?
Nothing at all, only
mine isn't Peter.
Excuse me; I must take
this drink to someone.
I just love that hat.
- Hello.
- Hello.
Why hello, doctor.
I never expected to find
you at a cocktail party.
I hardly expected to
find myself at one.
Have you been here long?
No, I've only just arrived.
You're looking very well.
Oh, I'm an absolute wreck.
I've been having
the most awful time.
I expect you read about it.
My sister-in-law,
Emma Wright, you know.
She fell out of a
window and got killed.
Yes, I did hear about it.
I've just come straight
from the inquest.
I wonder if I dare
try one of these.
I shudder to think
what's in it.
Katherine, you poor you dear.
What really happened? Did she
throw herself out, do you think?
No, of course she didn't.
Here's one of those
going begging.
I'll die if I
don't have a drink.
I'm afraid this
belongs to Mrs. Howard.
You might find one
over there though.
Now, don't go away, Katherine.
I simply must hear it all.
You saved my life.
I think you ought to keep moving if you
don't want her to catch you again.
That's a good idea.
Kate, my dear, you must
give me the lowdown.
My husband swears that someone pushed her out
of the window and it's all being hushed up.
Come in the corner
in the quit I can't bear it.
- I can't now -
- Haven't you got to telephone your mother?
My mother?
Oh. Oh, yes, I've got
to phone my mother.
See you later, dear.
Excuse me.
Kate, my dear,
you're not going?
Darling, I must.
They're too gruesome.
You're staying
herefor dinner?
No, don't rely on me.
Oh, quick, there's that awful
woman. See you later, dear.
What a menace.
- Katherine.
- Darling, you haven't got a drink.
No.
Thank you.
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
I'm really not suitably
dressed to be here.
I ought to have
changed, I suppose,
but I've had such
a hectic week,
what with the inquest and everyone bringing
up nasty, silly questions about Emma.
I do sympathize with you.
All I know is she left
me with a load of debts.
Is Mrs. Wright in debt?
Oh, not hers, mine.
Oh.
I wonder if they've
got any potted shrimps.
What's happened to Ann?
Ann?
How do you know Ann?
I operated on her.
Why, yes, of course.
So you did. How silly of me.
You know, I think I had
one too many at that party.
I almostforgotfor the
moment who you were.
Well, what has
happened to her?
Oh, she's gone to Portsmouth.
Emma's mother has
a house down there.
There's a dreary old miser
if ever there was one.
She hates me, as if you cared.
I do care. I'm most interested.
You're just being
very polite and sweet.
Frankly, I'm babbling.
It's fateful to have a
drink at Jenny Deva's.
You never know what she's
going to put in them.
It'll pass over as soon as
you've had something to eat.
Tell me about the house.
What happened to that?
What house?
Mrs. Wright's.
Oh, it's upfor sale.
Already?
Well, we moved Ann out
the night her mother died.
Phillip will never want
to see the place again.
It's empty now.
Do you got any potted shrimps?
I'm afraid not, madam.
- Lobster cocktail?
- Yes, madam.
Would it be veryforward of me to
hope that I shall see you again?
If you'd held your breath a moment longer
I should have suggested it myself.
Well?
Well, are you free
tomorrow evening?
I'll see that I am.
Alright.
Same place, 6 o'clock,
in the bar?
- Wonderful.
- Good.
Goodnight.
Goodnight.
He decided to visit
Emma's empty house.
He had never been
inside her home,
and hefelt that
ifhe could see it
he might, in some way, find an answer
to the problem ofEmma's death.
He looked around the grounds and tried
tofind some way of getting into the house,
but there were no
windows unlatched,
and the place seemed to be completely
deserted, so he had to break in.
This was the room where Emma
hadspent her leisure hours.
Everything was just as it must
have been when she was alive.
Her piano and Ann 's.
He knew he was in Emma's room
as soon as heopened the door.
There was still thefaint
smell ofher perfume.
On the other side ofthe valley
he could see the little chapel
that Emma hadfound so charming.
Who are you?
That's what I should
be asking you.
I didn't know there
was anyone here.
No doubt you didn't,
but that's no excuse for breaking
into other people's houses
in the middle of the night.
You could be had upfor this.
Yes, I suppose I can.
Are you looking
outfor this place?
I'm the caretaker.
Did you take anything that
doesn't belong to you?
No, certainly not.
It's rather
difficult to explain.
It's just that you haven't got a
piano of your own, I suppose.
It's alright. I believe you.
No sensible burglar is going to start
practicing the piano on the job.
Did you know the lady
who owned this house?
Know her? Why I worked
for herfor ten years.
I looked after the garden.
Oh, are you the gardener who
plays the organ at the chapel?
Oh, so you know about me?
Oh, yes.
Look here, there's no point in our
standing out here in the cold.
I've got the kettle on.
Would you like a cup of tea?
There's nothing
I'd like better.
Come down to my room.
I gather that Mrs. Howard didn't take
very kindly to your organ playing.
Mrs. Howard poking her nose
into everyone's business.
Made the poor lady a nice
dance, I can tell you.
Shocking tragedy.
Ever such a nice lady.
I'm usually in
bed by this time.
If I had broken in earlier I might
have played the piano in piece.
If you'd picked the right night you could
have made yourself at home the whole evening.
Oh, really?
Yes.
I always cycle over to
my sister's on Fridays.
It kind of breaks
the monotony.
Thanksfor the information.
If I were a burglar
I could use it.
You're no burglar.
I can see that.
I knew Mrs. Wright.
I wanted to have a look at
the scene of the accident.
Accident?
There were no accident.
The coroner said it was.
And what if he did?
Does it seem likely to you that a
lady would fall out of a window
she'd been looking
out offor ten years,
a lady that was perfectly healthy and
didn't suffer from a fear of heights,
no matter what some people said at the inquest.
Help yourself to milk.
Thank you.
She's a real devil,
that Mrs. Howard.
You seem prejudice.
It's not only me. Doris
would bear me out. Sugar?
No, thank you.
And Cook.
Mrs. Howard lived herefor a time
after her husband was killed,
and she never
let Mrs. Wright alone.
Always nagging and
getting on her nerves.
Mrs. Wright was that softhearted,
she was very easily upset.
Yes, I know she was.
And then there was the
scene about the carpet.
What about the carpet?
Oh, she stole it,
Mrs. Howard did.
Stole a carpet?
Mrs. Wright let on she gave it to her
just to save Mrs. Howard's face,
but we know different.
They say Mrs. Howard
got a tidy sumfor it.
Did she?
I imagine Mrs. Howard
is very well-off.
Oh, she had a lot of
money by her husband, but
that didn't stop
her trying to get more.
Have another cup?
No, thank you very much.
I must be moving.
Yes, tried to get me the sack just because
she didn't like my organ playing.
Are youfond of singing?
It's a long time
since I have sung.
If you want to know what I
think, Mrs. Howard pushed her.
Oh, I'm sure that's not true.
She could do it.
But the maid said at the inquest that Mrs.
Howard left the house before it happened.
Doris would want to keep it
darkfor Mr. Wright's sake.
Well,for Mrs. Howard's
sake I hope you're wrong.
Atfirst he found it hard to
credit the caretaker's accession.
But later, as he got
to knowKateHoward,
he couldn 't entirely
dismiss the idea.
She was a hard,
self-centered, brittle woman,
and it did seem
just possible that
she had had something to do
with her sister-in-law's death.
KateHoward was
delighted with his attentions
and only too pleased
to talk about herself.
Sheappeared to be a
woman with a grudge.
First ofall, when she had
wanted to be a singer
her parents had refused to
pay for her training.
Her husband had been
equally uncooperative.
From the way shespoke ofhim
one would have thought that
he'd chosen to die young solely in
order to keep her short ofmoney.
And then there was
her brother, Phillip.
She had always resented the fact that he
had the lion 's share ofherfamily's money.
There was so many things she'd have liked
to do with her life, she kept telling him.
He tried to draw her out on
the subject ofEmmaWright,
but here, she was
much more reticent.
Ah, but she didfinally come out
with an interesting statement.
Emma had a lover.
No, but that's not true.
That surprises you, I suppose.
How did you know?
She told me.
Did she tell you
who the man was?
No.
I suppose I shouldn't have talked
about her now that she's dead.
Still, you asked, and now you know why I
say that Ann was better off without her.
Where's Ann going to live?
With me.
With you?
Oh, don't look so shocked.
I can't exactly picture
you looking after a child.
Oh, don't be so sure of that.
I'mfull of unfulfilled
maternal instincts.
Are you?
No.
I've arrangedfor her to
go to boarding school.
I don't expect to hear of her
again 'til the summer holidays.
Come and sit down over here.
You're such a long way away.
Is her father satisfied
with this arrangement?
Oh, yes, he cabled me
to make a homefor her.
Would you call sending her
to school making her a home?
Now, don't you start on me.
I've had quite enough
trouble from Ann.
She wants to go down and
stay with Emma's mother.
Phillip wants her to be brought
up by someone younger, hence me.
I see. When does she
start her school?
Monday.
I've got her coming to town tomorrow to
get her teeth fixed before she goes.
Sickening responsibility, but
still, it can't be helped.
I presume your trouble will
not go entirely un-rewarded.
Oh, no.
Phillip's making me an
allowance to take care of her.
I shouldn't have
taken it on otherwise.
Phillip's an awful nuisance.
Poor little Ann.
Don't waste your
sympathy on her.
What time is this
dentist appointment?
Why are you so interested?
I was just thinking that you'll
be free while she's there.
So?
If I were free at the
same time we might meet.
That's quite a thought.
Kate was
completely unsuspecting
when he made anappointment to meet
herfor tea at the Savoy at 4 o'clock.
He never had any intention
ofkeeping thisappointment.
He had to see Ann, and he had
tofind a way ofseeing her alone.
My aunt told me to come and waitfor her
here when I've finished with the dentist.
Come in, will you?
She's having tea somewhere.
She's going to pick
me up afterwards.
Will you wait in here?
I know this room.
Hello, Ann.
Hello.
Did the dentist
give you a bad time?
I was told to wait
herefor Aunt Kate.
Is it alright?
I was expecting you.
Your hair is growing nicely.
Oh, it's awful.
Ann, isn't it about time
you and I had a talk?
What about?
About you.
Do you like the idea of
going away to school?
I don't mind.
Do you like your Aunt Kate?
Yes.
Are you sure about that?
Yes!
Don't you trust me?
Yes.
Not very much.
I don't know why you're
asking me all these questions.
I want to help you.
A long time ago you trusted me
with something very important.
What was that?
Your life, Ann.
Don't you remember?
Yes.
Why did you say at the inquest
that there was no one with your
mother the last time you saw her?
Because there wasn't.
That's not true though, is it?
Oh, I don't know what
you want me to say.
Your Aunt Kate was
with her, wasn't she?
Oh, leave me alone, please.
What happened between Kate and
your mother before the accident?
It wasn't an accident.
It was just the same
as if I'd pushed her.
You.
It was my fault.
How could it have been?
I know it was.
I sided against Mommy.
I don't care what
happens to me anymore.
What did you do, Ann?
You must tell me.
I can't.
You must. It's important.
She made me promise not to.
She said they'll send me
to prison if they find out.
Kate said that?
Yes.
Well, she had no
right to say it.
No one can send you to
prison if you tell the truth.
What happened, Ann?
You've got to tell me.
I went to Mommy's
room to say goodnight.
I'd been playing in the
garden since teatime.
I knew AuntKate
was withMommy,
and as I reached the
top ofthe stairs,
AuntKate was coming
out ofMommy's room.
She was angry, and she talked
in a very quiet voice to me.
She said she had something
very important to tell me.
Then she started.
She said the most horrible things
aboutMommy, aboutMommy and some man.
There was going to be
a divorce, she said,
and I'd have to give
evidenceagainstMommy.
I'd have to tell them in court for Daddy's
sake all the awful thingsMommy had done.
I supposeMommy must have been
listening all the time
because suddenly she told Aunt
Kate to get out ofthe house,
but she wouldn 't go.
Mommy told me to come to her
room with her, but I wouldn 't.
I don 't know why.
I was afraid, I suppose, and I
believed what AuntKate had said.
I believed it then.
It was only afterwards I
saw how wicked she was.
I heardMommy slam the door to
her room when she went back in.
I never saw heragain.
It was all my faultfor
believing Aunt Kate.
No, Ann, it wasn't your fault.
Oh, what in the world
happened to you?
I'm afraid I couldn't make it.
I can see that.
Where have you been?
I got held up.
Well, you could have telephoned me.
I waited for you over an hour.
As it happens I had more
important things to do.
I don't know who
you think you are.
I'm not in the habit of
payingfor my own tea.
Come along, Ann.
I want to talk
to you, Michael.
It's very late.
It won't take long.
What do you want to say?
We can't talk down here.
I realized it was very silly of me to
be so annoyed with you this afternoon.
I suppose you were working
and couldn't help it.
Is that what you came to say?
Yes.
Alright, you've said it now. Goodnight.
You're still angry with me.
Please don't be.
Let'sforget about
it and be friends.
I don't want to see
you again, Kate.
Oh, Michael, just because
of this afternoon?
That has nothing
to do with it.
You can't just drop me
like this. It isn't fair.
It'll be better
for you if I do.
How can you say that?
You'refond of me, aren't you?
Anyway, I'm veryfond of you.
Go home, Kate.
It's silly to punish us both just
because you're angry with me.
Michael, you're not just
trying to end things with me
out of a misplaced
chivalry, are you?
Misplaced chivalry
- what do you mean?
It just occurred to me that you might
think you were being unfair to go on,
knowing that you're not free.
Oh, I see.
You mean I'm trying to drop you rather
than involve you with a married man;
is that it?
Well, isn't it?
I'm asking you
for the last time.
Go home before it's too late.
Michael,
I don't care about
a lot of silly conventions.
I want to be with you
under any circumstances.
Do you, Kate?
Very well, you shall be.
She had madeup
his mindfor him.
That was the endforKate.
He now began to make his plans for the
revenge he'd thought offor so long.
He arrangedfor his junior
to take over his patients
and established at the hospital
that there was a possibility
that he might not be available
for the comingfortnight.
He wanted to be prepared
for every emergency.
Ifsomething should go wrong and prevent
him carrying out his plan at once,
he didn 't
want his absence to be noticed.
He left himselfwith only one appointment
before his meeting withKateHoward.
This was a routine job
ofan educational nature,
which he did irregular
and holds as a sideline.
While he was engaged on it,
his mind was working out the
practical problems which
would be involved with
this plan he hadformulated.
It was a Friday night.
That was going to make
things easierfor him.
He'd arranged to pick her up at a
lonely part of the embankment.
On his suggestion, she told her friends
that she was going awayfor a few weeks.
As they drove out of London she
was full of the usual chatter,
never suspectingfor a moment
his real feelings towards her.
Until they'd actually
arrived at Emma's house
she had no idea where
he was taking her.
The house wasfor sale.
He wanted to see it.
She accepted this explanation.
He knew that no one would answer the bell
because he remembered the gardener telling him
that he always went over to his
sister's place on Friday nights.
The window was still broken as
he'd never it on his last visit.
Shefollowed him upstairs
to Emma's room
and over to the window out
of which Emma had fallen.
He drew the curtains,
threw open the window.
Then he told her that he was
the man Emma had loved
and that he'dfound out that she
was responsible for Emma's death,
and now she was going to die
the same way Emma had died.
He told her to
throw herself out.
At the last moment she started
to scream, then she fell.
This was a murder conceived
in perfect sanity
and faultlessly carried out.
I'm afraid I've taken rather longer
with this story as I'd intended.
I shall have to leave the more general
discussion of the subject until next time.
May I ask you a question?
Yes.
I take it that the murderer
was never suspected.
No.
The police could find no evidence that
pointed to anything other than suicide.
And yet, like all paranoids,
he had to tell someone about it.
I don't quite get that.
Well, he told you, presumably.
Yes, he was a patient of mine.
In a lunatic asylum?
No, he was perfectly sane.
Sane as I am.
You didn't mind my asking?
Not at all.
It was a good question.
Have you been waiting?
I'll take that.
Where are we going?
You'll see.
Oh, a surprise.
You went across a red light.
Did I?
Do you hate women who
make-up in public?
I've never thought about it.
So muchfor that as a
subject of conversation.
Perhaps you'd like to
talk about yourself.
What was your
appointment this evening?
I was giving a lecture
on criminology?
Oh, well, what have you
got to say on that subject?
I told a story about a man who
killed a womanfor revenge.
That's carrying
things a bit far.
Mad, I suppose?
No, he was perfectly sane.
Oh, no, they always have a kink somewhere,
those people who do violent things.
Take my sister-in-law,
for example.
How does she come
into the argument?
She must have been a bit
mad to do a thing like that.
Like what?
Committing suicide?
What makes you say it was
suicide? It was an accident.
What's the matter?
I thoughtfor a moment that was
that awful chapel near her house.
Well, we're going
to her house.
Whateverfor?
You said it was up
for sale, didn't you?
Well, so it is.
I might buy it.
Well, what a time to choose
to go look over a house.
You must be demented.
Out you get.
Oh, do let's come
back in the daytime.
I want to show you something.
It won't take long.
Alright.
Where are you going?
I'm looking to see if any
of these windows are open.
That's not necessary.
The gardener should be here.
He's taking care of the
place until it's sold.
There's a window broken here.
You're not serious.
Certainly I am.
Oh, well, anything to
oblige a criminologist.
Just a minute while
I turn on a light.
No, don't do that.
It will spoil the atmosphere.
Well, which part of the house
do you want to see first?
Upstairs.
I'd better lead the way.
I know the place.
I can't imagine anyone
ever wanted to live here.
I've always loathed it.
I tried to persuade Phillip to sell it
long ago when he first inherited it.
This was her room.
That's right.
How did you know?
I've been here before.
When?
What really gave you the
idea that she had a lover?
She told me so.
Now tell me the truth.
Alright, I overheard them
talking on the telephone.
I listened on the extension.
Didn't you recognize
the man's voice?
No.
But you do now.
You evidently thought
you were safe,
that when she was dead that
was the end of the matter.
Did you really imagine that
I'd accept her death
without making every effort to
find out how it happened?
Come here.
That's where she
fell, isn't it?
I don't know. I wasn't here.
You tried to get money out of her because
you thought she was being unfaithful.
Then when that was no good you
poisoned the child's mind against her.
You might just as well
have killed herself.
You're just as
guilty this way.
What was thatfor?
I don't like being locked
in a room with a madman.
I can get that key from
you any time I like.
If you don't let me out
of here I'll scream.
There's no one to hear you.
The gardener's here.
He'll hear me.
Why don't you scream then?
Because I want to give you the opportunity
of letting us get out of here with dignity.
The gardener goes over to his
sister's on Friday nights.
This is Friday night.
Let me out of here.
He told me so himself.
That's why I picked tonight.
He is not at his sister's.
He is here.
That's him playing the organ.
No one else ever plays it.
You can't do
anything to me now.
He'll be back soon.
Not soon enough.
You're raving mad!
I'm going to make you do to
yourself what you did to her.
Let me go of me!
I won't! I won't!
It'll be like suicide.
The organ stopped!
He'll be back!
He'll be back here!
Help! Help! Help!
Help!
Don't come near me!
Don't come near me!
(ScreamingforHelp)
What a place to park.
Look George, why don't you park this thing
crossways then nobody could get past.
I just stopped to wipe my
wind screen. I couldn't see.
Oh, you couldn't see. What
do you think I am, an owl?
Where are we, do you know?
Yes, we're on the
main Portsmouth Road.
Thank goodness somebody knows.
That's where we're
supposed to be headed.
I can tell you
how to get there.
Directions in England,
are you kidding?
No thanks, I'll
justfollow you.
No, you can't do that.
I turn off just up the road.
That's alright, I'll
follow you that far.
Give me a high-ball
when you turn.
Okay.
This is where I turn off.
You go straight ahead.
You can't miss it.
Alright, thanks, Mate.
Oh, can you help me?
I've run off the road.
My car is ditched.
I'm afraid I can't stop.
I'm in a hurry.
Well, perhaps you'd be good
enough to give me a lift.
No, I'm sorry.
I'm afraid I can't.
I have got an urgent case.
Are you a doctor?
Yes.
Well, this is luck.
My name is Farrell.
I have a practice here.
There's a kid up the
road badly injured.
I've just been to telephonefor an ambulance.
I have to get back to her.
Where are you makingfor?
Up this way.
Oh, well, I'd better leave the car
where it is and hop in with you.
Oh, just a minute.
I must get my bag.
Ah, no, put it on the floor.
The ambulance will never
make it in thisfog.
How far are you going?
I'm not quite sure
where it is from here.
I know this district.
Perhaps I can help you.
No, I don't think you can.
It's a long way.
Are you a London man?
Yes.
Have you had any experience
with fractured skulls?
Quite a lot.
Hmm, I could have
used you tonight.
Why do you have to turn
up when it's too late?
What could you
have used mefor?
This kiddy I was
telling you about.
Road accident, was it?
Yes.
Lorry ran into a
private car in thefog.
Kiddy was in the back and seemed
to have taken most of the bump.
She is unconscious now and bleeding
from a cut over the right here.
It's very suggestive of a
middle meningeal hemorrhage.
Did she regain
consciousness at all?
Yes, she didfor a time
and seemed pretty well.
That's what gave me a clue.
Probably right.
Fog seems to be lifting a bit.
Yes, here's the turning.
We're almost there.
Oh, at least I can
be in at the death.
I don't think I should
jump to conclusions,
but I've seen extraordinary
recoveries from head injuries.
I guess we've all seen
extraordinary things happen,
but I never expect them,
and I certainly don't care
one way or the other.
I always thought I
cared very much.
I never liked
losing a patient.
Well, that's the sort of
sentimentality you get over
when you've killed as
many patients as I have.
I don't think so.
I've always resented the
fact that one can't choose.
Can't choose what?
Which patients to kill.
Then, as a doctor, you must be in
a constant state of frustration.
In your case, let's say vanity
is involved, not sentimentality,
but whatever
it is it's just as bad.
A man doesn't have
any generous feelings.
He only thinks he has.
Selfishness, habit
and hard cash,
those are his real motives.
Looked at from that angle,
life can hardly be worth living.
It isn't, but I've done
my share of enjoying it.
Just up here.
Now,for another
scene with the mother.
""Why did it have to be my
daughter?"" and all that.
What's your answer
to that one?
""Better your daughter than mine,
madam,"" I'd say if I were honest.
How old is this girl?
Oh, just a child. About 12.
Twelve? Hmm.
Have you any children?
No.
Here we are. Stop.
Oh, I suppose I couldn't persuade
you to look infor a moment
and give a little
presence to the case?
It's always a great comfort to the parent to
have a second opinion say there's no hope.
Maybe there is hope.
She's still alive, isn't she?
Mm-hmm.
Is this where they are?
Yes. Good evening, Carl.
Oh, good evening, Dr. Farrell.
Terrible night, sir.
Yes, isn't it.
Nice mess they
made of that car.
Oh, doctor, we thought
you'd never get back.
I managed to get
another opinion.
This is doctor -
Where is the patient?
Oh, doctor, she
still hasn't moved.
Have you got a torch?
Ah, thank you.
Take that.
Yes, you're quite right.
She's bleeding from
the middle meningeal.
Will she be alright?
I'll operate now.
- What, in this place?
- Have you got a large saucepan or fish kettle?
I want to sterilize
my instruments.
And I should need
some clean sheets.
I've got my
instruments in the car.
It's not worth
taking a chance.
If she dies during the operation
there'll be an inquiry,
and you never know how those
things are going to turn out.
If nobody is going
to take a chance,
that child is going to
die in half an hour.
It's no good pretending we can get
her to the hospital in that time.
It's up to us to relieve the
pressure before it happens.
Maybe I can secure an artery.
At least I can do a decompression to give
you time to get her to the hospital.
Well, that's the job
for a specialist.
I wouldn't touch it.
It'll be alright.
- Well?
- It was this way.
We come out of the bend. We couldn't have
been doing more than eight mile an hour.
There was a grinding
noise and we'd had it.
Ah, sure.
That's women drivers all over.
They never look
where they're going.
She was gazing at the side of the road
with tiddly glance in front of her.
- You should have swerved over.
- How could we?
We never saw her
until she was on us,
and then she was going on
the wrong side of the road.
Well, one of you better come
with me and show me what's what.
Alright.
Fix that on to the tube.
Thank you.
There will be an inquest.
- Well, let's just -
- There's no use thinking about that now.
After all, it
wasn't your fault.
I had a clean license.
Respiration's failing.
- Have you got any carmine?
- I don't carry it.
I have some in my car.
A small box in
the front pocket.
It wasn't in the
front but Ifound it.
Quickly.
Fill the last one with that.
That was a good job.
I hope so.
It's your line, I suppose.
Yes.
She has a good
fighting chance now.
It gives you a
feeling of elation,
a feeling of control
over people's destinies.
You find that?
Certainly not.
I was trying to
assess your reactions.
A spectacular recovery, of course,
would do my practice a world of good.
Apart from that, it's all one to
me whether she recovers or not.
Do you expect everyone
else to feel like that?
Not you.
I'm not speaking
of obsessionals.
I'm speaking of the
normal, the perfectly sane.
Let me put it this way.
The vessel which we normal
people usefor imbibing experience
is a stout austerity model
which doesn't crack.
With others, like yourself,
at last, though of superior
design, cracks quite easily.
Now, instead of leaving
it upturned on a shelf,
a danger to all, it
should be thrown away.
I don't accept your diagnosis.
A doctor dispenses death and
healing with blind impartiality
he's not supposed to way the merits of an
individual case and exercise a sense of justice.
I resent that.
What I did today - you know
what I'm talking about -
It was just.
It was a gesture of independence
by a sense of justice
which years of professional practice
have threatened with atrophy.
Today, I sat in judgment.
Hmm.
Paranoia.
My diagnosis was
quite correct.
You are mad.
Who's here in
that car outside?
That must be Dr.Farrell's car.
No, that ain 't Dr.Farrell's car.
That's a big black one.
-Must be the other one.
-Who's he?
Dr.Farrell's car must be
outside somewhere.
That ain 't Dr.Farrell's, and you don 't
believe me, it must be the otherfellows...
She looks better, doesn't she?
Yes, her color's good.
Beginning to look
very different.
He was wonderful.
I shall never be
able to thank him.
Where is he?
I don't know.
Look, doctor, she moved.
Oh, we must expect that now
that she intends to live.
Are you the owner
of that car outside?
No.
Who does it belong to?
I don't know. Why?
I nearly ran right into it.
He's parked outside
without a rear light.
Oh, is that all?
I'm going to relate the case history
of the murder ofthis class.
Perfectly sane, valuable
member ofsociety.
And yet, like those paranoids,
he had to sell someone about it.
Yes, he was a patient ofmine.
In a lunatic asylum?
No, he was perfectly sane.
Sane as I am.
Not you. I'm notspeaking
ofobsessionals.
I'mspeaking ofthe
normal, the perfectly sane.
What I did today -
-It was just.
It was a gesture ofindependenceby
a sense ofjustice
which years of professional practice
have threatened with atrophy.
Today, I sat in judgment.
Paranoia.
My diagnosis was
quite correct.
You are mad.
You're raving mad.You're
raving mad!You're raving mad!