Between 10:30 PM and midnight on April 15th last,
a woman was strangled.
Earlier that same evening at the Covent Garden Opera House in London
a large audience was gathering for the first performance of a new opera.
These two facts are not entirely unconnected,
for the murdered woman and the man who is now accused of her murder,
were both in the theatre that night.
To most of the audience, it was an evening like many others,
but to the accused man it was something more than that.
Very much more than that.
Nicholas Talbot was an ambitious man,
but for many years fortune had eluded him.
When he married a promising young opera singer
and became her business manager,
he believed that at last he had set his foot on the ladder to success.
Why do I have to change everything at the last moment?
If DuFuy doesn't shut up, I shall scream.
Nick, why didn't you come before? Where have you been?
Counting the tiaras, darling.
- Good evening, signor Perone. - Good evening, Mr Talbot.
I'm telling you, if you leave it to me, everything will be all right.
Now the overture starts in two minutes, so if you will forgive me...
- Good luck, signor Perone. - Thank you, Mr Talbot.
Lady Pratt, you remember her at Cannes, magnificent bust blazing with jewels.
Nick, I have had nerves before, but never like this.
Nonsense, you're always like this until you start.
You see, tonight it is very important to us, if I flop this time...
Why should you flop this time?
Because it's my first time in London.
Because I'm terrified, because I've forgotten everything.
I expect I'll sing "Butterfly" by mistake.
Nick, put your arms around me very tight
and tell me I shan't sing "Butterfly" by mistake.
Lady Pratt wouldn't notice if you did. She might stop talking just long enough
to ask why you went in Japanese costume and that's about all.
What about the critics?
It would take them more to get them out of the bar.
It's the aria that worries me, Parone keeps altering the tempo.
- Has Parone ever let you down? - No, never, bless him.
Very well then.
Three minutes, please, Miss Shelley.
Now for it, off you go, keep your fingers crossed.
Wait a minute.
That's what you've forgotten.
- All right now? - Yes, I'm all right.
- Sure? - Sure.
- Hello, Joan. - Good evening, Nick.
- Hello, uncle Nick. - How is everything?
Splendid.
I say... this isn't a side seat. How did you manage it?
Influence. I know the stars slightly.
- Expect she is nervous. - A bit.
But she never really flies off the handle until it is all over.
And when she does, what do you do?
Duck.
It so happened that I was in the audience that night.
Little did I realize then
how closely I was later to be associated
with the tragic events that were to follow.
As the opera drew to its close,
Talbot sat unaware of the presence of the woman
whose death was to involve him so deeply.
She too had chosen music for a career.
It was exquisite, it was too divine.
I just can't tell you what I feel about it.
Yes, honestly, Philippa, it was quite lovely.
I never heard you sing better.
Very credible, Philippa, a most adequate performance.
I'm not sure I'm talking to you. You walked out in the middle of the aria.
You certainly have been looking.
I wasn't. Leslie told me.
Just maddening, I had a call.
Darling, you were wonderful, I couldn't have enjoyed it more.
How proud you must be of her, Nick.
Yes I am, very.
We really must go, Philippa, or we shall lose that train.
I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed myself.
And you have too haven't you, Leslie?
It was wizardry, Philippa.
I enjoyed it very much, I could see it was awfully good music.
I'll get you a taxi, Joan, it's pouring with rain.
- Good bye, darling. - Good night, dear.
A few minutes later, as Talbot was returning to the dressing room...
Nicky!
Nicky, I do believe you were going to cut me dead.
No, I wasn't, I just didn't recognize you.
Have I changed all that much?
No, not a bit but... after all, it's a long time.
Yes, it is, isn't it?
What are you doing here?
Playing in the orchestra.
I didn't see you at rehearsal.
Somebody went down with flu, I got the job at the last moment.
What were you doing at rehearsals?
Shifting scenery.
Nicky, not really. And that's a joke, I suppose. What are you doing here?
I'm just at the moment. I'm waiting for Philippa.
Philippa Shelley?
She's my wife, you know.
No, I didn't know.
You've gone up in the world.
But you were always lucky.
Yes, I have been lucky.
I hope things have been good for you too.
Me? I've had one smack in the eye after another.
I'm sorry.
You don't want to hear about it, naturally.
Hard luck stories are always boring.
Not at all.
If there is anything I can do?
There is a lot you could do, if you want to
Couldn't we meet somewhere?
I've got so much to tell you.
if I gave you my address would you look me up?
I'll try.
That means you won't.
I don't blame you after five years.
I will try really but I must go now, Elizabeth, really I must.
Scribble your address on this; here is a pencil.
It's just off the Euston Road, I'm on the first floor.
I'm afraid it's not much of a place.
Nicky, I need you badly.
You will come, won't you?
Yes, but don't do it if he's not somewhere.
It's lovely.
Here you are, I wonder where you go to.
I'm sorry, darling, I run into an old friend.
- Good night, Philippa - Good night.
- Good night, Nick - Good night.
Elizabeth, may I introduce you to my wife, or have you met already?
No, we haven't met. How do you do Miss...?
Rusman, Elizabeth Rusman. How do you do, Miss Shelley?
I had no idea that you were Nicky's wife.
You mind if I drag him away?
You'll excuse us, won't you, Elizabeth?
Yes, of course. Good night, Miss Shelley, I'm glad to have met you.
I'm glad to have met you.
You've really done it my darling, you were never better.
Yes it all went off wonderfully well, didn't it?
- She's rather attractive, isn't she? - Who?
Elizabeth... Nicky.
Oh, yes, in a way.
I snooped around the bar in the interval. Everyone was raving about you.
She must have been one of your early conquests.
So early so I forgotten all about it.
Is that why you have taken her address?
No, I didn't want it at first, but I couldn't very well refuse it, could I?
How about dropping the subject?
I'm sorry if you find it embarrassing.
Not in the least embarrassing, merely idiotic.
Never knew you had such a jealous nature.
Never knew you had such a past.
As far as I am concerned, Elizabeth Rusman is dead and buried.
The whole thing finished years ago.
Then, there was a thing.
I never let you suppose you were the first woman in my life.
You married me with your eyes open, you know.
Perhaps it'll be as well as I keep them open.
You imagine far more than you see.
Pour me out a large nice drink, I deserve it.
If I didn't needed so badly myself, I'll give you the entire bottle.
Shall I bring them in there?
Nick, lend me a pencil.
Funny, it should be here.
I seem to have lost it.
Perhaps Elizabeth Rusman still got it.
How right you are.
Yes, well, here is to your success this evening.
And yours.
How long did you know her?
Who? Elizabeth? About three months.
- Only three months? - Anything strange in that?
No, only seem a very short time for such a violent love affair.
Does it?
No, I don't think so.
Anyway it wasn't particularly violent.
Just one of those low spirited little affairs that drag on and on, I suppose.
It didn't drag on.
Didn't it?
Yet after five years,
you had to rush out in the middle of the last act, just because you had seen her.
Even if I had seen her what good would it have done to me
to rush out as you call it, when she was busy fiddling away in the orchestra?
That's what I am wondering.
I'll tell you I went out on business.
Business?
Yes, business.
Couldn't it have waited?
What?
I said: "couldn't it have waited?"
No, it couldn't.
Did she send you a note or something?
Now listen, Philippa, I know it's only a reaction.
You get this queen wasp spit off for a big strain,
but will you please put me on the carpet for something else
and lay off this topic because I don't like it.
I see you don't like it, I can't think why. It's all supposed to be over.
Well, of course it's over, but that sort of a meeting is always embarrassing.
Is it?
I would have thought you'd found out some sort of a technique for it by now.
You are any good in Mathematics?
No, why?
I've been working it out.
We've been back in England three weeks.
If we meet one discarded mistress every three weeks,
that would work out nearly twenty a year, won't it?
There are times, Philippa, when you are extremely irritating.
No wonder you arranged those foreign tours.
For the love of heavens, shut up.
Nick!
Nick, I am sorry. I didn't mean to hit you, I am sorry.
Please let me look, darling, please let me look.
Kindly leave me alone.
Where are you going?
Nick...
Nicholas Talbot and his wife are the only two people
who know for certain the truth of what happened in their flat that night.
Did that quarrel take place or not?
Husband and wife, both at various times told different story
But the Crown is not so much concerned with what happened then
as with what happened later.
It was set before you the chain of events,
the sinister accumulation of small but indisputable facts
which form the sum of the evidence against the man standing in that dock.
Nicholas Talbot is charged with murder
and I shall invite you to come to the conclusion,
upon the evidence to be given, that he is guilty of murder.
At 10:15 on the April 15th he returned to his apartment accompanied by his wife.
Twenty minutes later he was seen leaving the building again, this time alone.
It is the Crown's submission that the accused, when he left his home
proceeded immediately to Rathlan Mansions,
the lodgings of Elizabeth Rusman.
No one was seen to enter the building.
The landlady had gone to the pictures.
Her husband, George Grieve, had stayed in until 10:30, then he too went out.
Grieve will tell you that he was away for approximately thirty minutes.
The vital thirty minutes during which the crime took place.
There is bound to be a certain amount of conjecture
as to what occurred in the murdered woman's bedroom during those 30 minutes.
She cannot tell us because she is dead.
and Talbot denies ever having been there,
but it is probable there was an argument
and it is probable that this argument became heated.
As far as one thing is concerned however, there is no conjecture.
Between 10:45 and 11:15 PM,
a man entered Elizabeth Rusman's apartment and attacked her.
In the submission of the Crown that man was Nicholas Talbot.
Look out for man wanted in connection with alleged murdered.
Seen leaving 216 Rathlan Mansions
at approximately 23:05 hours, dressed in brown trilby hat and rain coat.
May have injury to forehead.
Yes, Sir, what can I do for you?
I wonder if you can help me, I've cut my head and it won't stop bleeding.
I'll do my best, you mind coming under this light.
Lucky to find you open, I've tried about five already.
Quite a deep cut. Have you fallen?
Down some steps, perfectly sober too.
I�m afraid this will need a couple of stitches a bit beyond me.
Why don't you go to the Fitzroy Street Hospital?
It's only just around the corner.
Can't you just stop it bleeding?
- Will leave you a nasty scar. - Very well.
Second on the left, about 100 yards down.
- Thanks. - You are welcome.
- Good night. - Good night.
Strangled, dead about 20 minutes,
might be difficult to identify.
Fortunately that won't be necessary.
How long has she been with you?
Two weeks, maybe three, the old woman would know.
This man you saw coming down the stairs
you say he was wearing a soft hat and a raincoat,
would you recognize him again?
I didn't see his face, all that plain, I think I'd know him again.
Could you see what sort of injury? Was it a scratch, a cut, a bruise...?
I tell you I didn't see it, How could I see it
when he kept his handkerchief before it all the time?
Is there a telephone in the house?
There is one next door.
Slip next door and phone that description to the station.
Have it circulated to all hospitals and chemists in the area.
Yes, Sir.
And tell them to send up the photographers and a couple of more men.
- Yes, Sir. - Thanks.
Is this your first accident casualty?
Good Heavens, no. What makes you think so?
You are so young, you probably haven't been here very long.
Over six weeks now.
Think you made a good job of it?
Lovely.
I couldn't have done better than this.
I got my fellowship, it's the prettiest job as I ever saw.
No glass in the wound, by the way?
How did it happen, did you say?
Taxi skidding, hit a lamp standard.
Like you didn't overturn.
I was in a little MG sport once on the Brighton Road,
we were taking a corner about 68 when a tyre burst.
You are wanted on the phone.
- Who? Me? - You are in charge, aren't you?
Who wants me?
- Is it a lady? - They didn't say.
Anyway, we skid it twice round , went through a gate and run into a cow
that stopped us dead, it was the prettiest piece of driving as ever I saw.
Excuse me.
What happened to the cow?
The farmer was insured.
Is there the doctor in charge?
This is Fitzroy Lane police station.
We are circulating a description of a man
suffering from a head injury to the left temple, height about 5' 10'', well built,
height about 5' 10'', well built, probably under forty,
wearing brown trilby hat and raincoat.
What? You have him in there now? Good, hold the line a minute, please.
Hello.
The Yard phoned back, Sir.
There is a man answering to that description
being treated at the Fitzroy Street Hospital now.
They've got the doctor holding on.
Tell them to ask the doctor to keep the man there as long as possible.
- We'll come around at once. - Right.
Keep him here? How?
Yes, I know, but...
If you say so, tell them to hurry.
Yes, all right.
Good bye.
Anything important?
No, no, thank you very much.
Now let me see, where was I?
You just killed a cow, and if you don't mind I'll be getting along.
Just a minute, I... think I ought to take this one more look, don't you?
Let me see.
Just coming through there a bit.
I... I think I have to put a bit more wool on.
Just to keep it quite dry.
Give me another bit of plaster, nurse.
But don't you...
Give me a bit of plaster.
Don't forget I want to get my hat on.
The best thing you could do is to go straight home in a taxi.
No, I'll walk; it stopped raining.
You shouldn't do that. I'll phone for a taxi.
Thanks all the same. I'll like to get some air.
Just a minute.
There is frayed end. I'll cut it off for you.
Do I pay for this?
No thanks; we are a free hospital.
There is a box at the gate if you feel inclined.
All right, thanks.
Other casualties?
Yes, it looks like being a busy night.
Right, I'll make way for the next case.
Good evening.
- Are you Dr Harris? - Yes, I.. you phoned I thought.
Very good of you.
Just a moment, Sir.
Do you want me?
We are checking upon accident cases.
Will you give a few details of what happened?
You have been in a car crash, haven't you?
Yes, a slight one, nothing to bother about.
- Was it a taxi? - Yes.
Have you been hurt there?
It was the glass.
Where did this happen, Mr...?
- Talbot. - Mr Talbot.
Not far from here, near the Euston Road.
Was it reported to the police?
I really couldn't tell you. I expect it was.
Just a moment.
Were you going home when the accident occurred?
- Does it matter? - It does rather.
Yes, I was.
Where had you been?
I don't find this very funny. Have you any reason for questioning me?
As a matter of fact, we have.
Have you ever seen this before?
Looks like a photograph of me.
Doctor, would you and sister mind leaving us a moment?
- No, of course not. - Thank you.
Does that locket belong to Elizabeth Rusman?
It did.
What's happened to her?
Mr Talbot, do you still maintain that you got that injury in a car accident?
We can easily check up, you know.
No, of course not.
Why didn't you tell me it was something serious?
What's happened to her?
All in good time, tell us first how you got that injury.
As a matter of fact, I got it at home.
My wife...
Are you married, by the way?
No.
Pity, you would understand better if you were.
My wife threw something at me, she didn't mean to hit me
but of course it did. We had a quarrel,
nothing serious, but... not the sort of thing one wants to talk about.
I think the best thing, Mr Talbot,
would be for you put it in the form of a statement.
This, members of the jury, is the statement made and signed by the prisoner
that night in the presence of Inspector Archer and Detective Kellert.
I should like to read you an extract from it.
"I received this injury in a quarrel with my wife.
It was a very stupid quarrel and, no doubt, I was very irritating,
she threw something at me and cut my head.
I left the flat in a temper, I walked around the streets for half an hour
before going into a chemist's shop to get my injury dressed."
A very plausible statement, I'm sure.
The sort of statement that might come into anybody's mind.
But when in the early hours of the morning,
inspector Archer and Kellert went round to Pelham Court to see Mrs Talbot,
they found no signs of a quarrel.
They proceeded to ask her one or two simple questions.
Mrs Talbot, do you know Miss Elizabeth Rusman?
Yes, slightly.
I met her for the first time this evening. Why? What's happened?
She is dead.
Dead?
But I don't understand.
Was Nick there?
You think it likely?
That's impossible.
Impossible, then why did she ask the question?
The police had one more fact to elicit,
in view of Talbot's statement, a very important fact.
There is no kind of quarrel.
No, nothing of that sort.
You're sure of it?
Quite sure.
At that time she was quite sure.
But subsequently, as we shall see,
she changed her mind, I leave you to draw your own conclusions.
Now, what is the next thing the accused man said?
"I never at any time went near Elizabeth Rusman's flat."
But on the following morning George Grieve,
who was the only man who saw the murderer leave Rathlan Mansions,
attended an identification parade.
There were eight men lined up at that parade, including the accused.
They were all dressed exactly alike in trilby hats and raincoats
and each man had a plaster on the left hand side of his forehead.
Now, among those eight men, whom did Grieve identify?
He identified Nicholas Talbot.
Let us return for a moment to Mrs Talbot.
You'll remember that up until now, the accused and his wife had not met.
No doubt that accounts for the fact
that their stories differ in almost every important particular.
Soon after this, they were to meet.
We do not know what was said that first encounter in the detention room.
It is perhaps not necessary for us to speculate.
The service here is awful. I couldn't get a morning paper.
What were the notices like?
I didn't look, I was far too worried about you.
Don't be worried, it's just an idiotic mistake, that's all,
but to make matters worse, some fellow now identified me as the man.
But that's impossible. How could he?
I must have a criminal look, I suppose.
Anyway, it is time we had a lawyer.
That's what I thought. I've got Frobisher outside.
Good for you.
After you left last night I felt so ashamed.
So did I.
The time I had my head sewn up
I knew it was just your way of letting off steam.
Now we ought to have laughed you out of it.
You knew I didn't mean to hit you.
Of course I didn't, that's what I did.
And I wasn't really in the least but jealous about Elizabeth.
I didn't suppose for a moment you left the box because of her.
It was Casey calling 'bout your autumn tour in the States.
He's fixed it for October.
That makes me feel very small.
Now listen, my darling, last night was yesterday;
no good can come of crying about it.
If I had told you about Casey yesterday, this would never have happened.
So we are both to blame.
Now you go and get Frobisher and don't worry.
Sooner or later they're bound to pick up the man who really did it.
Nicholas Talbot, you are charged that you did on April 15th last
at 216 Rathlan Mansions the murder of Elizabeth Rusman contrary to Common Law.
You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so,
but anything you say will be taken down in writing and maybe given in evidence.
I prefer not to say anything at the moment.
You will appear before the Magistrate this afternoon.
I beg of you, how long is this farce going on?
Mrs Talbot it is only fair to remind you
that you and your husband told conflicting stories to begin with,
but even if there was this quarrel on the night of the murder...
Even? So you quite made up your mind. Nick did it.
The jury will decide that.
Can you try just for a minute to see as I see it?
I know you are wrong, I know Nick wouldn't do it
and I know that all this time there is a real murderer
somewhere putting himself further and further out of your reach.
Listen. Forget that I was ever in the least but jealous of Elizabeth.
Tell me over again everything you can remember about her.
Darling, I have told you.
I've got good reason for asking you, Nick.
Until she turned up in London recently,
no one seems to have seen her for three years.
Even the police don't know where she has been.
It's terribly important to us to trace those three years.
Don't you see that your life may depend on it?
Don't you think I'd help you if I could?
The police haven't even got a photograph.
- You haven't got one have you, Nick? - No.
I did have a snap, but I tore it up years go.
She maybe had been living under a different name.
But if there was a photograph, and they publish it in the papers,
somebody would be sure to recognize her.
Did she ever tell you her plans?
Don't think she did.
Or her friends?
I don't think she had any, none that I knew of anyway.
I'm determined whatever happens to find a photograph
and I'm determined to find out where she has been.
You must know something about her, Nick. Think.
Try to think anything.
She might have gone back to Holland.
- Holland? - Yes, she was Dutch.
At least her mother was Dutch.
Nick, I'm going to Holland, I'm going to try find her mother.
My daughter was an obstinate child.
She wished always to live by her violin, she had no concern for her mother.
When did she last write?
She hasn't written since three years.
Have you a photograph of her?
All this I told the police, I have no photographs of her.
Perhaps the agent in London will have one.
No, I'm afraid I haven't, Miss Shelley, the police have already asked that question
and we made a thorough search, if there was one it must have been destroyed.
Apart from Covent Garden, what was the last job you got for her?
We placed her with the Ladie's Imperial Orchestra.
She was one of my first violins, but, as I said to the police,
I knew very little about her.
She was a confident musician and that was all I needed to know.
Had she any particular friends in the orchestra?
I think Miss Carteret knew her better than I did, they were very close friends.
Yes, I knew Elizabeth very well, but I'm afraid I can't help.
As I told the police, she was such a funny girl. She never talked about herself,
Mrs Langridge, our landlady at the time, used to say...
One of them quirk ones she was.
Kept herself to herself, as I said to the copper, still waters run deep.
There was a fellow who used to come and see her, now, what was his name?
I believe you knew a Miss Elizabeth Rusman, Mr Shaw.
I said all I got to say to the police. If you want to know anything, ask them.
Everywhere I've been, the police have been first,
but I know you're making a most terrible mistake.
The evidence we got is available to your solicitors.
It isn't the evidence you got, it's the evidence you haven't got.
Where's Elizabeth Rusman been for the last three years?
Mrs Talbot,
I'm going to tell you something which strictly speaking is off the record.
Three years ago Elizabeth Rusman had an illegitimate child.
We think she changed the name
and lived quietly somewhere where she was not known.
- Where is the child? - He died.
And the father?
He runs a garage, she left him before the child was born.
We've seen him, he can't help.
May I look at her personal belongings?
Certainly, but isn't it a rather forlorn hope?
It's the last hope.
Like everything else, they are English, she obviously hasn't been abroad.
Have you identified these things?
The shoes are from a multiple store, the dress is by London Mode,
who has shops all over the country and the night dress is "Sell the Knees".
Had she no personal papers?
The murderer destroyed them.
- Was this hers? - It was with the others.
Look that's might be a piece of her own work,
I wonder.
Do you mind I take it away with me?
I'm afraid I can't let you do that.
- May I copy it down? - By all means.
Members of the jury, I have very little more to tell you.
I have tried to put the case fairly before you,
I may at times have spoken with heat.
If I have, it is because the ugliness of this crime
would move any right thinking person to indignation and anger.
During all my years of practice of the Criminal Bar,
I've seldom known a crime so marked for its ferocity and violence.
Deliberately and brutally the murderer squeezed out the life
of his victim with his bare hands.
That done, deliberately he set fire to the body,
burning the woman he had once loved,
as callously as he had killed her. Visualizing the scene and...
Mr Talbot, did you or did you not love Elizabeth Rusman?
At one time I thought I did.
I see.
And when you found out that you didn't,
you just slipped away and left her,
and that's what all as far as you were concerned.
- Yes. - Yes.
Now, during the alleged quarrel on the night of the murder,
did your wife learned for the first time
of your association with Elizabeth Rusman?
I must tell you, Mr Talbot, you do not have to answer that question
unless you wish.
I've no reasons for not answering it, milord.
My wife did learn about it for the first time during the quarrel.
Do you think she would have married you, if she had known of it sooner?
I am certain she would.
And yet on the occasion she learned of it,
according to your own story, she flung something at your head and cut it open.
- Yes. - Yes.
Now, let us return to this... this writing on the program:
"Alas, the love of women", what does that convey to you?
It's from Byron, Miss Rusman and I had read Don Juan together
and "Alas, the love of women" had become rather a joke with us.
Perhaps as you read it together,
you could remember the last two lines of that stanza.
No, I've no idea what they are.
Perhaps Elizabeth Rusman expected you to remember.
Perhaps, does it matter?
It does indeed.
Let me refresh your memory.
"Alas the love of women, it is known to be a lovely and a fearful thing".
And the stanza ends:
"and their revenge is as the tiger's spring, deadly and quick and crushing."
I put it to you that you were terrified,
that Elizabeth Rusman was going to try to come between you and your wife.
I was not in the least terrified.
- Mr Talbot, what is your employment? - I act as my wife's manager.
So that all the money she earns comes into your hands.
It comes through my hands.
I take a small percentage for what I do on her behalf,
and the rest goes straight into her personal account.
Apart from this income from your wife,
can you just tell the Court what personal money you have?
Is that necessary, milord?
I think it's a relevant question.
I have about 1000 pounds in cash and a few shares in a mining syndicate.
Not a large fortune, fortunes go.
Not as yours goes, perhaps?
Lord I ought to be protected from the sarcasm of the witness.
You must answer the questions in a proper manner.
Yes, milord, if they are put in a proper manner.
This attitude won't help you, Mr Talbot.
Before your marriage, did you have any regular employment?
I did a variety of things.
As the eroding stone.
I often worked regularly and hard.
But you made no money.
I made no money.
So when you met your wife ,
your financial prospects were not as bright as hers?
I didn't marry my wife for her money, if that's what you are suggesting.
At that time she had less than I did.
But a big future.
If properly managed, yes, but it was not assured.
But it was assured
on the night that Elizabeth Rusman suddenly appeared at Coven Garden.
Yes, I am glad to say, it was.
So that in the event of a break up in your marriage,
you'd still to lose, not merely your wife's affection, but her money as well.
I was not interested in her money and there was no question of a break up.
If there was a break up, did you or did you not stand to lose financially?
I stood to lose far more than that.
But you did stand to lose financially.
- Yes. - Thank you.
The Prosecution suggests that the accused have a motive.
I say to you frankly,
if the existence of an old love affair was a sufficient motive for murder,
almost every man in this Court would have such a motive.
If you can bring yourselves to believe
that such a man would commit a brutal murder for so flimsier reason,
can you also believe that he would be so careless
as to advertise his injury near the scene of the crime?
The Prosecution asks us to believe that Talbot,
hurt in the struggle, went at once to the nearest hospital
and asked for his wound to be dressed..
Look at him in the dock.
Look at him closely.
I ask you first if he looks like a murderer
and, second, if he looks like a fool.
Remember that on your decision depends a man's life.
You, and only you, can decide if this man shall die
or if he should return to the woman
who believes, as I do , so confidently in his innocence.
If new facts come to light about this case,
as well they may,
you, each one of you,
will bear the responsibility of sending an innocent man to be hanged.
I don't believe you will accept that responsibility.
I believe that a verdict of not guilty
is the only possible verdict you can return.
The Prosecution has never at any time suggested
that the prisoner cold-bloodedly planned his crime.
These things occur in heat and passion.
And I submit you that when my learned friend suggested
that you should ask yourself whether the accused look like a murderer,
he has attempted to obscure the issue.
Who knows what a murderer should look like?
I ask you to confine yourself no to appearances but to facts.
The prisoner had a motive,
and a motive which my learned friend has pointed out to you
is one which will be widely understood.
The prisoner is unable to furnish an alibi.
He tells conflicting stories to account for his movements.
He's identified by the only person who saw the murderer leave the apartment.
His silver pencil was found lying near the dead woman's body.
These are the facts, members of the jury,
facts, short of an actual witnessing of the crime, what more could you have?
Justice demands that you should find Nicholas Talbot guilty.
I think that this is a suitable point to adjourn today.
Dislodge the prisoner.
Let's face it, things are not going so well.
That wretched Counsellor and his cheap sneers.
Cheap but effective.
I don't think so, really I don't.
No one is impressed by that sort of things he states.
He knows his juries, he has painted my past in the most lurid colours
and planted firmly in their minds that I live off you.
Well, there's the whole week end for that to sink in,
and on Monday you'll really go to town.
But you don't live off me, Nick, you know you don't.
I know, you and I don't think like that,
but they seem to twist everything so.
Darling, I felt that too.
It's also fantastic, it's not you they're talking about, not us, nothing like us.
You'll have a few love affairs when you are young
and at the time they seem gay and romantic.
But if one of them comes home to roost,
it looks vulgar and tawdry.
Everything looks tawdry in a court of law.
No, darling, not everything. I want you to promise me something.
Promise me if anything should go wrong...
I know what you are going to say.
but nothing will go wrong, you mustn't be anxious, it certainly will be all right.
I'm not a bit worried.
We are both horribly worried.
Don't let waste these few minutes pretending we are not.
Everything here is unreal.
We mustn't be.
I know.
These minutes are all that count, and they are so short, getting shorter.
Time is up, Mrs Talbot.
Joan sent her love, I'm spending a weekend with them.
Next week we go down together.
Of course we'll do.
Good bye, my love.
Daddy, where is Vene... zu... ela?
Venezuela in South America.
This is a funny postmark, where is Puerto Rico, dad?
Not too loud, darling.
Daddy, daddy, where is Puerto Rico?
In South America.
Yes, but what part of South America?
I thought you were good at geography; get an atlas and look it up.
I don't believe you know.
What's that you are whistling?
- What's about? - That tune.
Where did you hear it?
You just played it, Philippa.
Yes, but you couldn't remember like that on one hearing.
You got it perfectly. Where did you hear it?
I can't remember.
Try to think, Leslie, this was the tune, listen.
Leslie...
Yes, I remember it.
It was the tune Bungey Baker had on the brain on the Christmas Holds.
Who is Bungey Baker?
He is a friend of Leslie's. He spent Christmas with us.
I suppose I did had it on the brain a bit last Christmas.
We had it drummed into us at breaking up time, it's got a sort of catchy air.
What's the name of your school?
Penmere, that's the name of the village too, it's in Scotland.
About 40 miles from Edinburgh.
I hadn't heard this tune before. Is it a special one for your school?
Yes, it's quite new, someone wrote it at the school.
One of the boys?
No, one of the masters I think.
I'm afraid I don't quite understand
what the importance of this tune is, Mrs Talbot.
It may not be important, it's just that...
Well, thank you for your information, Bungey
and thank you for letting me see him.
We'll only too glad we were able to help.
This man, this master, he might be the one link we've been looking for.
How did the manuscript come to be in Elizabeth's case?
He must have known her.
Exactly. I'm going to the school to see him.
Yes it make sense but don't let bank too much on it.
We won't, but it is a chance and I'm taking it.
I'm catching the night train to Edinburgh.
If I am not back on Monday, don't worry about me, I'll be all right.
Keep your fingers crossed.
I will.
Hello. Is that Penmere School?
May I speak to the headmaster, please?
I'm sorry, ma'am, Mr Fleming is out.
No, he won't be back till this evening.
What name shall I say?
Mrs... Mrs Newcombe. Yes, that's right, Newcombe.
I am in Edinburgh for the day and I wanted to look over the school.
Do you think he would see me this evening?
I'm sure he will, ma'am, I'll tell him you are coming.
He'll be back about 6.
Good bye, ma'am.
The headmaster's house is really rather to the right, ma'am.
- Thank you, will you wait here? - Yes, ma'am.
Excuse me, Sir. That will be Mrs Newcombe now I'm thinking.
Just a moment.
- I'll... I'll answer the door myself. - Very good, Sir.
What did you say her name was?
Mrs Newcombe, Sir.
- Sure it was Newcombe? - All right, quite sure, I wrote it down.
Mrs Turnbull...
Yes, Sir.
I shan't need you anymore this evening.
You can go.
But... your supper, Sir?
I'm going out tonight. I won't want any supper.
Very well, Sir.
Good evening. Can I help you?
I beg your pardon. Are you Mr Fleming?
I am.
I'm so sorry. I rang the bell, but there was no reply; do forgive me.
I wanted to see you about sending my son to your school.
I see.
I came personally because I thought I'd like to see the school for myself.
It's so necessary I think to make sure.
- Yes, Mrs... - Newcombe.
Mrs Newcombe.
I should be delighted to show you around. When would be a convenient time?
I got to be back in London tomorrow morning, I'm leaving on the night train.
Could we make it now?
Very good, I'll get the keys.
Most of the buildings are locked up during holidays.
This is round the junior's classrooms.
Are you musical, Mr Fleming?
No.
I noticed a piano in your sitting room.
I should like John to take music lessons.
Canter is our music master,
no doubt you saw his name in the prospectus.
No, I haven't had a prospectus.
I came to Edinburgh on a family matter
and I thought I'd like to call while I was near.
I see.
The dormitories are above the classrooms, I expect you like to see one.
Yes, I would, thank you.
I expect the masters are all away during their holidays.
Yes.
Don't you find it rather quiet after the noise and bustle of term time?
I like the quiet, Mrs Newcombe.
Are you looking for someone you know?
For Henry Bakerford's benjamin.
It was really through him I found out about the school.
You'll find him in that group over there.
Oh, yes there he is.
Is that your wife?
No.
That's the matron.
You are married, aren't you?
My wife is abroad at the moment.
I should look forward to meeting her.
Is she in any of the school groups?
No.
There seems to be one year missing
The negative was damaged that year.
No photograph was issued.
I see.
I should like you to see the chapel before you go.
How long have you been headmaster here?
Five years.
But I'm leaving at the end of next year.
I'm sorry.
Actually, I'm sorry too, in a way.
It wasn't really a very good school when I came.
It's been a great pleasure watching it grow.
But I've been offered of the head- mastership of Lovell's College.
It's a great opportunity.
Do you like your work?
Yes, I love teaching.
It's the only thing in the world that matters to me.
May I try the organ?
- By all means. - Thank you.
You'll find the switch on the right hand side.
What a pleasant tune this is!
How lucky you are to have it for a school song.
Who wrote it?
The song is based on an old Dutch folk tune.
Dutch?
Then how did you...
It makes a very good school song, I think, don't you?
Yes, very.
Well, I... I'd better be going or else I should miss that train.
Of course.
Thank you very much for giving so much of your time.
I'm glad I've been able to help.
I'll write to you when I get back to London.
Please, do.
You don't have to see me any further, I can find my own way out.
Very well. Good bye, Mrs Newcombe.
Good bye.
Do you happen to know who takes the school photographs?
Yes, ma'am, Angus Baird, just up the village.
Would you mind taking me there please?
- Tonight? - Yes, please.
Very good, ma'am.
- Mr Baird? - Aye.
Forgive me for troubling you on a Sunday,
but I'm very anxious to obtain some photographs of the school.
If you come around nine o'clock in the morning,
the shop will be open and you can see them in a proper manner.
I wonder if you can let me have them tonight.
I've got to catch a train for London.
I neither buy or sale on the Sabbath day.
I don't mind what I pay.
I have no interest in money until tomorrow morning.
Bother! It sicks! Am I ever get a moment's peace?
Hello.
Hello!
Oh, good evening, Sir.
I'm sorry to disturb you on your Sunday evening.
But there was someone here today inquiring about the school groups.
Have you by any chance had anyone into see you?
Yes, Sir, there was a lady here just now
and she was inquiring about school photographs, but I didn't sell her any.
I think she wanted a copy of the group
you took last year, but she won't be able to have that one, will she, Baird?
That's what I thought.
Did she say she'd call again?
I told her to come back in the morning.
I told her that I neither buy or sell on the Sabbath Day.
I hope that you agree that I did right, Sir.
Yes, yes, of course you did quite right, Baird.
Well, I'm sorry we won't be able to help her.
Is there anything else, Mr Fleming?
No, that's all, thank you very much.
Good night.
Annie, it's nine o'clock.
- Good morning. - Good morning.
Have you by any chance
a copy of the Penmere school group for last year?
I have not.
Can you tell me where I can get one?
There is no one.
It is so important to me, is there by any chance...?
I tell you my girl, there is no one.
Thank you.
I think we kept one of the proofs, Angus.
If that will be of any use to the lady.
It would, I'm sure it would.
You ruined my good name, woman.
That's a sore point with him, ma'am.
He is usually very careful,
but he forgot to lock the dark room door.
Here it is.
This is exactly what I want.
I can't thank you enough.
May I take it?
Certainly, ma'am.
How much do I owe you?
We wouldn't charge you for that, ma'am.
Annie, that would be half a crown.
Well, good bye.
And once again, thank you very much.
I'm sure you are very welcome, ma'am.
Good bye.
Do hurry,
I have a very important phone call to make before I catch the train.
I'm doing my best, Miss.
Which platform does the London train go from?
This one, Miss.
- Ten o'clock. - Thank you.
- Is there a call box? - Straight on to the right.
Hello, I want a trans, please
Thank you.
Passengers for the ten o'clock, London King's Cross, please join the train.
All others, stand clear.
Hello.
Hello...
Come along, Herbie.
- I wouldn't try that one, ducks. - Why not?
Out of order.
...when I just got there, we had a lovely dark cat.
�What did you see?
Oh, Darice Taylor... Oh, yes, yes, I've heard about her.
Have you a London evening paper, please?
- Sorry. - A local one?
Thank you.
Good afternoon, Mrs Talbot.
What made you think I wouldn't recognize you?
How did you trace her?
The school song.
It was in her music case.
What are you going to do?
I shouldn't if I were you.
I've been to inquire if they serve teas in the train.
They will be starting in a few minutes.
Oh, will they?
Did you say something?
I said, "oh, will they?"
I'm afraid I am very deaf I can't hear what you say.
It's a great handicap, you know.
Which way is the restaurant car?
What are you going to do?
You killed her, didn't you?
Yes, I killed her.
Why?
I killed her because if I hadn't,
she would've destroyed the only thing I had left in life.
The only thing I care about:
my work.
You see, she was going to divorce me for cruelty.
Not because I've been cruel, but because she hated me.
She only married me because she knew she couldn't get your husband.
She was still in love with him.
Perhaps that will help you to understand why I don't care what happens to him.
Divorce for cruelty would have finished me.
She knew that.
She wanted to finish me.
And so you made up your mind to strangle her.
No, I didn't intend to kill her.
I went that evening to reason with her, but I have a dangerous temper.
She knew that, she knew my weakness.
She kept at it as someone drilling on a nerve.
I can see her now.
I saw him tonight, I got to see him again, I am going to get him back.
His marriage won't last.
He's got sick of things that fickle her, I shall be free of you by then.
- It would ruin me. - So I could be dour, I shan't mind.
I know it is got to finish but it could be done decently.
Decently? That's all you care about.
You, little tin god with his wonderful gift for teaching.
Be careful, Elizabeth.
"Wife divorces headmaster for cruelty".
- What will the parents say to that? - Be careful, Elizabeth.
With your high moral standards, having people all over the place,
thanking you for turning their sons into priests and hypocrites like yourself.
- You couldn't let us see your lack of... - Quiet!
- You won't get the job at Lovell's... - Be quiet!
The time I found you, no school on earth would have you.
She was quiet.
She was quiet in the end.
I couldn't believe that it had happened.
Then I realized I was free.
I had made myself free.
You'll never be free from that.
I should like that photograph, Mrs Talbot.
What photograph?
The one you bought in Penmere this morning.
I've posted it to Scotland Yard.
I'll tell you I posted it to Scotland Yard.
What difference does it make? You can't escape from what you did.
I had done so... until you came.
Help!
Are you all right?
Are you sure you are quite all right?
Come.
- Mrs Talbot, Sir. - Good.
I wanted to see you Mrs Talbot; sit down
Please, Inspector, I must tell you what I've been...
I won't keep you a moment.
I've got a great deal to tell you, Inspector Archer I...
So sorry.
Yes. It's all right.
Yes, as soon as possible. Bye.
Now, Mrs Talbot...
I've no longer proof of what I'm going to tell you,
but there must be something...
I think I already know what you are going to tell me.
This is what I've been waiting for.
Let me introduce Detective Sargent Hawkins.
Detective?
Yes, Mrs Talbot.
This is Fleming's confession.
Made to you in my hearing on the train.
It's all we needed.
Get me the Central Criminal Court, quickly.
I want to get a message through to the clerk at the Court.
Subtitles by gamboler[noirestyle]