The Man Who Knew Too Much Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the The Man Who Knew Too Much script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Alfred Hitchcock movie starring Jimmy Stewart and Doris Day.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of The Man Who Knew Too Much. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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The Man Who Knew Too Much Script


   

                   

Daddy, you're sure

I've never been to Africa before?



 

                   

It looks familiar.



 

                   

You saw the same scenery last summer

driving to Las Vegas.



 

                   

Oh, sure. Where Daddy lost all

that money at the crap -



 

                   

- Hank!

- Table.



 

                   

Hey, look! A camel!



 

                   

Uh-huh. Course this isn't really Africa.

It's the French Morocco.



 

                   

Well, it's Northern Africa.



 

                   

Still seems like Las Vegas.



  

                   

We're just a hundred miles

north of the Sahara Desert.



  

                   

I don't know. In school they

call this the Dark Continent.



  

                   

This is twice as bright as Indianapolis.



  

                   

You just wait till we get to Marrakech.



  

                   

- Marrakech? Sounds like a drink.

- Mmm. It sure does.



  

                   

Wait a minute. Hold on there.

What's the matter?



  

                   

Well, I sure want to thank you.



  

                   

Without your help,

anything might have happened here.



  

                   

My pleasure, monsieur.



  

                   

There are moments in life

when we all need a little help.



  

                   

Yeah. Just what was the trouble?



  

                   

Uh... your little boy accidentally

pulled off his wife's veil.



  

                   

- Oh. Yeah.

- Hank!



  

                   

I want to introduce my wife,

Mrs McKenna.



  

                   

- How do you do?

- How do you do, madame?



  

                   

My name is Louis Bernard.



  

                   

We thank you very much, Mr Bernard.



  

                   

- That's our son, Hank.

- Hello, Hank.



  

                   

Hello. You talk Arab talk.



  

                   

A few words.



  

                   

Why was he angry? It was an accident.



  

                   

But the Muslim religion

allows for few accidents.



  

                   

- Yeah, I suppose so.

- Oh.



  

                   

- May I?

- Yeah, sit down right in front of Jo.



  

                   

Oh, I thought his name was Hank.



  

                   

Oh, it's my wife's name.



  

                   

- J-O. No E.

- How different.



  

                   

Short for Josephine.



  

                   

I've called her that so long

nobody knows her by any other name.



  

                   

- I do. Mommy.

- Oh, yeah.



  

                   

Now, about the accident.



  

                   

A Muslim woman never takes off her veil

in public under any circumstances.



  

                   

They feed her intravenously?



  

                   

- No, Hank.

- What a big word for such a small boy.



  

                   

I'm a doctor.



  

                   

Oh. Well, he sounds like one.



  

                   

He can spell haemoglobin.



  

                   

He has a little trouble

with words like dog and cat.



  

                   

Where do you practise, doctor?



  

                   

Indianapolis, Indiana.

Good Samaritan Hospital out there.



  

                   

What brings you to Marrakech?



  

                   

We were attending

a medical convention in Paris



  

                   

and I thought,

inasmuch as we were in Europe,



  

                   

I'd come and see Morocco again.



  

                   

Daddy liberated Africa.



  

                   

I was stationed up in Casablanca



  

                   

at an army field hospital during the war.



  

                   

- Do you live in Morocco, Mr Bernard?

- No.



  

                   

I suppose you came directly from Paris.



  

                   

No, we looked in on Lisbon and Rome.



  

                   

-  And Casablanca.

- And Casablanca.



  

                   

I hope you will have time

to truly enjoy Marrakech.



  

                   

Let's see.

We'll have, at the most, three days.



  

                   

You will, naturally, be stopping

at the Hotel Mamounia or Le Menara?



  

                   

Why do you ask?



  

                   

Because they are hotels

for tourists of good taste.



  

                   

Oh. Do you live in France, Mr Bernard?



  

                   

- Sometimes.

- Do you eat snails?



  

                   

When I'm lucky enough.



  

                   

If you ever get hungry,

our garden back home is full of snails.



  

                   

Thank you for the invitation.



  

                   

That's alright.

We tried everything to get rid of them.



  

                   

We never thought of a Frenchman.



  

                   

Here we go.



  

                   

Say, do you want to

share a taxi with us to the hotel?



  

                   

That's kind of you, Doctor, but

unfortunately I have some business first.



  

                   

- Oh. OK.

- What business are you in, Mr Bernard?



  

                   

I'll be there later and perhaps

we might have a drink together.



  

                   

Come up to our suite.

We'll have a drink up there.



  

                   

- In that case, I will take you to dinner.

- No, no. That's not fair.



  

                   

I know Marrakech.

I can show you an Arab restaurant



  

                   

where the food is different

and the manner of eating exotic.



  

                   

That's what we came here for.



  

                   

- How about one of those Arabian nights?

- I'd love it.



  

                   

How would you prefer to travel

to the hotel, by taxi?



  

                   

- Gee, I don't know.

- A wagon! I wanna ride in a wagon!



  

                   

I guess it's a wagon. See you later.



  

                   

Au revoir. I look forward to the cocktails.



  

                   

- Bye.

- Goodbye.



  

                   

Hank, you sit up with the driver.



  

                   

How do you like this?

A horse-drawn convertible.



  

                   

Well, I just saw Louis Bernard

talking to that Arab.



  

                   

- What Arab?

- The one that was shouting at Hank.



  

                   

They were talking like

they were dear friends.



  

                   

Well, he probably knew him before.



  

                   

What does that mean?



  

                   

It means that Mr Bernard

is a very mysterious man.



  

                   

What? He seemed perfectly normal to me.



  

                   

Now, what do you

really know about him?



  

                   

What do I - I know his name.

We were sitting there, we were talking.



   

                   

You don't know anything about this man,

and he knows everything about you.



   

                   

Oh, wait.



   

                   

He knows that you live

in Indianapolis, Indiana.



   

                   

He knows you're a doctor

at the Good Samaritan Hospital.



   

                   

He knows that you attended

a medical convention in Paris,



   

                   

and that you stopped off

in Rome, Lisbon and Casablanca.



   

                   

Alright.



   

                   

He knows that you served

in North Africa in an army field hospital.



   

                   

Honey, it was just a casual conversation,

that's all.



   

                   

Darling, you weren't just talking casually.



   

                   

He was asking all kinds of questions,

and you were answering them.



   

                   

You might as well have

handed him your passport.



   

                   

We just had a conversation.

I've got nothing to hide.



   

                   

But I have a feeling that Mr Bernard has.



   

                   

I know this is mysterious Morocco,



   

                   

but we're not

gonna lose our head, are we?



   

                   

- I know. I know what it is.

- What?



   

                   

You're sore because this fella

didn't ask you any questions.



   

                   

- Oh, hardy-har-har.

- Hardy-har.



   

                   

- Well, this eases the pain.

- What pain, Mommy?



   

                   

- It's just an expressión.

- Hey, can you take care of the driver?



   

                   

- My name is Dr McKenna.

- I'll take care of everything.



   

                   

- Come on.

- We're being watched.



   

                   

What? Oh, come on!



   

                   

  Que será, será



   

                   

  What will be will be



   

                   

  When I was just a little boy



   

                   

  I asked my mother



   

                   

  What will I be



   

                   

- He'll make a fine doctor.

-   Will I be handsome



   

                   

  Will I be rich



   

                   

-   Here's what she said to me

- Come on, darling.



   

                   

  Que será, será



   

                   

  Whatever will be will be



   

                   

  The future's not ours to see



   

                   

  Que será, será



   

                   

  What will be will be.



   

                   

Second verse.



   

                   

  When I was just a child in school



   

                   

  I asked my teacher



   

                   

  What should I try



   

                   

Catch.



   

                   

  Should I paint pictures



   

                   

  Should I sing songs



   

                   

  This was her wise reply



   

                   

  Que será, será



   

                   

  Whatever will be will be



   

                   

  The future's not ours to see



   

                   

  Que será, será.



   

                   

Oops.



   

                   

  What will be will be



   

                   

May I have this next dance?



   

                   

- Yes.

- Alright.



   

                   

  Dum, dee, dum-da-dum



   

                   

  Da-da-da-da  



   

                   

Oh, you're divine.



   

                   

- Dinner for the boy.

- Yeah, come in.



   

                   

I can't tell you how beautifully

your wife sings.



   

                   

- Pretty good, isn't she?

- Oh, she's marvellous.



   

                   

Too bad it was interrupted.



   

                   

I've had that same feeling

myself many times.



   

                   

Well, everything's fine.

The manager has a babysitter for us.



   

                   

Good.



   

                   

Permit me the pleasure of

serving you a drink.



   

                   

I would love it. Thank you.



   

                   

Were you on the American stage,

Mrs McKenna?



   

                   

Yes, Mr Bernard,

I was on the American stage



   

                   

and the London stage

and the Paris stage.



   

                   

Oh?



   

                   

I thought perhaps you had

seen me in Paris, being French.



   

                   

The theatre requires time,



   

                   

and for me time is often a luxury.



   

                   

Have you ever been to Paris, Mr Bernard?



   

                   

I was born there.



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

- What business are you in?

- I buy... and sell.



   

                   

- What?

- Whatever gives the best profit.



   

                   

Now that you're in Marrakech,

what are you buying and selling?



   

                   

You know, I would much rather

talk about the stage.



   

                   

If you tell me what shows you are in -



   

                   

Would you excuse me? I'll get it.



   

                   

- No, I'll get it.

- No, I will.



   

                   

I'm inquiring for the room

of Mr Montgomery.



   

                   

He asked me for a drink, and I -



   

                   

I'm sorry. There's no Montgomery here.



   

                   

Pardon me, monsieur.

I regret disturbing you.



   

                   

 OK.



   

                   

- May I use your telephone, please?

- Sure.



   

                   

- Mommy!

- Yes?



   

                   

- I can't cut this meat.

- I'll do it for you.



   

                   

Merci.



   

                   

Allô?



   

                   

 D'accord.



   

                   

I'm terribly sorry, but I cannot go

to dinner with you tonight.



   

                   

- Oh?

- I have neglected an important matter



   

                   

- which now requires my attention.

- Oh, I see.



   

                   

- Perhaps another night?

- Oh, sure, sure.



   

                   

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye.



   

                   

- Bye.

- Good night.



   

                   

Good night.



   

                   

- Bonsoir, madame, monsieur.

- My name's McKenna.



   

                   

Of course. The hotel phoned.

Follow me, please.



   

                   

- I'm certain you'll find this comfortable.

- Thank you.



   

                   

Honey, move over here.



   

                   

You're on my dress.



   

                   

Whoop.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

We always wash

the hands before eating.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

- Those people are staring at us.

- What people?



   

                   

- Right in back of us.

- What?



   

                   

- Yes.

- Here.



   

                   

They were staring at us

in front of the hotel too.



   

                   

Jo, will you please stop imagining things.



   

                   

I'm not.



   

                   

Good evening.

You must think me awfully rude.



   

                   

I've been staring at you

since I saw you at the hotel.



   

                   

- You are Jo Conway, the Jo Conway?

- Yes, I am.



   

                   

I knew I was right.

I'm Lucy Drayton, and this is my husband.



   

                   

- How do you do?

- We're Dr and Mrs McKenna.



   

                   

My wife tells me Mrs McKenna

appeared at the London Palladium.



   

                   

We hardly ever see a show now.



   

                   

Edward is such an old stick-in-the-mud



   

                   

so I have to

console myself with your records.



   

                   

I must admit I love em.

I'm not one for this terrible be-bop.



   

                   

- Thank you very much.

- When are you coming back to London?



   

                   

- Possibly never again, professionally.

- Oh.



   

                   

- Don't say you're giving up the stage.

- Well, temporarily I am.



   

                   

It's just that I'm a doctor,

and a doctor's wife never has much time.



   

                   

What my husband is trying to

say is Broadway musical shows



   

                   

are not produced in Indianapolis, Indiana.



   

                   

We could live in New York. I hear

that doctors aren't starving there either.



   

                   

It's not that I have any objection

to working in New York.



   

                   

It's just that it'd be hard for my patients

to come from Indianapolis for treatment.



   

                   

 I'm always

saying the wrong thing. I'm sorry.



   

                   

 Not in the least.



   

                   

Dr McKenna, do you -



   

                   

Why don't all of you sort of

turn around here, or something.



   

                   

It's kind of - kind of hard on the neck.



   

                   

It's in one of our English counties.



   

                   

It's not what you'd call a farm.

It's more of a small holding.



   

                   

Here we are.



   

                   

- Oh.

- Isn't that fascinating?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

- There we are.

- Uhh.



   

                   

- Hey, they look good.

- Surprise.



   

                   

Oh, they look wonderful.



   

                   

Ah, looks like bread.



   

                   

- We're not going to eat all that, are we?

- No.



   

                   

Is that the way you do it?



   

                   

Yes, just break it, just like this.



   

                   

It won't break. Oh, no.



   

                   

Well, I'm gonna - There.



   

                   

- Is that the way you do it?

- That's quite alright.



   

                   

That was a tough one.



   

                   

Does it chew any better than it tears?



   

                   

- Is it fattening?

- I imagine it must be.



   

                   

No, it's pretty good, hon.



   

                   

- Well, I -

- No plate.



   

                   

- No?

- No. No knives and forks either.



   

                   

I understand you're supposed to dig in.



   

                   

Oh, allow me to show you, will you?



   

                   

You use only the first two fingers

and thumb of the right hand.



   

                   

You don't use the other two fingers,

and always the left hand in the lap.



   

                   

- Oh, I see.

- May I show you?



   

                   

- Ju-Just these two fingers, huh?

- I'll hold it for you.



   

                   

- See.

- There we are.



   

                   

Well, I, uh... uh...



   

                   

Boy, could I use this hand.



   

                   

- I can't, uh...

- It's alright.



   

                   

- It's good stuff.

- No one minds.



   

                   

- It's messy, but worth it.

- I'll practise on an olive.



   

                   

Oh, honey, it's wonderful.

Here. Take a bite.



   

                   

- Good?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Tell me - does this way of eating

have to do with religion, or something?



   

                   

I think it's more social than religious.



   

                   

I don't know.



   

                   

It seems like if you have

four good fingers and a thumb



   

                   

you oughta be able to use all of em.



   

                   

- It's very good.

- Very good.



   

                   

Well, as I was saying,



   

                   

I was quite happy farming my bit of land



   

                   

when these United Nations fellows

started worrying me.



   

                   

Edward was a big noise

in the Ministry of Food during the war.



   

                   

So we pulled ourselves up at the roots,

and here we are, United Nations Relief.



   

                   

Sounds like interesting work.



   

                   

I'm preparing a report

on soil erosión at the moment.



   

                   

Parts of this country are not unlike

your dustbowl formation.



   

                   

A thin layer of topsoil,



   

                   

and underneath, so -



   

                   

How do you like that?

First he promises to take us to dinner -



   

                   

Yeah.

Well, we just met him today, honey.



   

                   

You can't expect him

to change his whole life.



   

                   

Ben, what's the matter with you?



   

                   

Nothing. What's the matter with you?



   

                   

I just don't want to be insulted.



   

                   

Oh, you're not being insulted.



   

                   

You can't blame him for turning

down an old married couple like us.



   

                   

- We're not an old married couple!

- Alright.



   

                   

Alright, he's a heel.



   

                   

I don't understand him,



   

                   

but I'm beginning not to like

what he's doing to our whole night.



   

                   

I must do some

shopping in the market tomorrow.



   

                   

I do hope it will be fine.



   

                   

Well, not too fine.



   

                   

I know our English weather

is pretty awful, but sometimes,



   

                   

we don't realise when we're lucky.



   

                   

All this sunshine day after day,

well, it doesn't seem natural somehow.



   

                   

- I want to get up.

- Ben, don't.



   

                   

I know you. Once you get

worked up, you start a fight.



   

                   

Will you come to the market

with us tomorrow?



   

                   

As a matter of fact, Louis Bernard,

the big buyer from Paris,



   

                   

was going to take us

to the marketplace tomorrow.



   

                   

- Yeah. I think I'll cancel out.

- Sit down and eat your dinner.



   

                   

- We - We'd love to go.

- Oh, we'd be delighted.



   

                   

I don't know why he gets so worked up

over unimportant things.



   

                   

Non, Monsieur! Monsieur.



   

                   

  Ho! Ho! Ho!



   

                   

  Ho, ho, ho, ho!



   

                   

What's he saying, Mrs Drayton?



   

                   

He's the teller of tales, Hank.



   

                   

Isn't this exciting?



   

                   

Just like the county fair

when I was a kid.



   

                   

They got everything

but the balloon ascensión.



   

                   

What's so funny?

Did you ever see a balloon ascensión?



   

                   

I was thinking. You know what's

paying for these three days in Marakesh?



   

                   

- Me.

- Mrs Campbell's gallstones.



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

- You know the purse I bought in Paris?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Bill Edward's tonsils.



   

                   

 Mommy! Daddy!



   

                   

Daddy, come with us!

We're gonna see the medicine man.



   

                   

- Maybe you can learn something, Daddy.

- I wouldn't be surprised.



   

                   

Anytime he starts wearing you out -



   

                   

I haven't enjoyed the market so much.



   

                   

- I never thought of it that way before.

- What?



   

                   

I'm wearing

Johnny Matthews' appendix.



   

                   

What about the boat trip?



   

                   

It took two boys, one girl,

and two sets of twins, didn't it?



   

                   

And Mrs Morgan's hives.



   

                   

- How are the acrobats today?

- Wonderful.



   

                   

Watch that kid that goes

clear to the top there.



   

                   

- I'll see you later.

- Yes.



   

                   

All the way home we'll be riding on

Herbie Taylor's ulcers.



   

                   

And Allida Markle's asthma.



   

                   

Now if we could just get four cases

of seven-year-itch we could retire.



   

                   

Or if Mrs Yarrow's really

gonna have triplets,



   

                   

we could completely

redecorate the house.



   

                   

What would they say if they heard us?



   

                   

One of the reasons

I came to a place like Marakesh



   

                   

is so we could say things like that

without everybody hearing us.



   

                   

I'd like to say something

where nobody could hear us.



   

                   

This is the safest place.



   

                   

When are we

going to have another baby?



   

                   

You're the doctor.

You have all the answers.



   

                   

Yeah, but this is the first time

I've ever heard the question.



   

                   

Mommy, look! Come here!



   

                   

Look. Sewing machines.

Looks like a televisión commercial.



   

                   

- Having a good time, Hank?

- I guess so.



   

                   

He's delighted with everything.



   

                   

Hank! Hank, come back here!



   

                   

- Hank!

- Hank!



   

                   

- It's best to keep out of trouble, Hank.

- What's going on?



   

                   

Looks like the police

are chasing somebody.



   

                   

Aaah!



   

                   

Hey. Hey, look there.



   

                   

You better stand back.

Go on. Stand back.



   

                   

Monsieur McKenna.



   

                   

I'm Louis Bernard.



   

                   

A man, a statesman,



   

                   

he is to be killed,



   

                   

assassinated,



   

                   

in London



   

                   

soon, very soon.



   

                   

Tell them in London



   

                   

Ambrose Chappell.



   

                   

Chappell.



   

                   

- Ben, who is he?

- Louis Bernard.



   

                   

- You got something to write on?

- Louis Bernard!



   

                   

He's dead.



   

                   

He says, "Do you know this man?"



   

                   

Yes, we do know him.

He's Louis Bernard, the French -



   

                   

Louis Bernard?



   

                   

Monsieur and Madame McKenna.



   

                   

He wants you to go to

police headquarters to make a statement.



   

                   

- OK.

- Our friends have to go to the station.



   

                   

- I'd better go with them.

- Yes, of course.



   

                   

You don't want your

little boy to go, do you?



   

                   

But I want to go to the police station.



   

                   

I think it's better

if I take him back to the hotel.



   

                   

- Would you, please.

- Certainly.



   

                   

Thank you. Be good, Hank.



   

                   

We're to be going.



   

                   

Heaven knows when we shall be back.



   

                   

Why do you suppose he turned up

in an Arab outfit and wearing make-up?



   

                   

What's more important:

Why was he killed?



   

                   

I bet he was a spy or something.



   

                   

What were you writing down?

What was he telling you?



   

                   

I'll tell you later.



   

                   

What is it?



   

                   

I-I just feel kinda funny.



   

                   

Why should he pick me out to tell?



   

                   

After what we said about him last night.



   

                   

When we get in with the inspector,

I'll do my best to cut the red tape.



   

                   

- Fine. Fine.

- I'm going to stretch a bit.



   

                   

I'm afraid the questions will go till

doomsday if you admit you knew him.



   

                   

I don't know him at all.

We met yesterday on a bus.



   

                   

They're a cynical lot, these French.

They might refuse to believe that.



   

                   

Well, they've got to believe it.



   

                   

Look at it from their point of view.



   

                   

They saw this poor fellow

whispering to you,



   

                   

and then they saw you

write something down.



   

                   

Are you gonna show them

what you wrote?



   

                   

Thank you, Mr Drayton,

but a translator will not be necessary.



   

                   

Won't you come inside,

madame, monsieur?



   

                   

Do me the kindness to wait.

I might have questions for you later.



   

                   

Passports, please.



   

                   

You came to French Morocco

four days ago?



   

                   

That's right.



   

                   

You are a doctor, sir?



   

                   

Yes, I'm a surgeon,

a tourist and American citizen.



   

                   

Three good reasons why you should have

nothing in common with Louis Bernard.



   

                   

I didn't have.



   

                   

You were in Paris recently?



   

                   

Yes, I was attending

a medical convention.



   

                   

You came to Marrakech in the same bus.



   

                   

You had an aperitif with him

in your hotel room.



   

                   

You ate at the same restaurant last night.



   

                   

Yes, but at different tables.



   

                   

So Louis Bernard is a stranger to you?



   

                   

I met him for the first time

yesterday on a bus.



   

                   

And yet, out of      people



   

                   

in a great marketplace,



   

                   

he comes to you

when he is about to die.



   

                   

Is that the action

of a casual acquaintance?



   

                   

I know absolutely nothing

about Louis Bernard.



   

                   

Not even, I suppose, that he was

an agent of the Deuxieme Bureau.



   

                   

The - What's that?



   

                   

Perhaps you have also

never heard of the American FBI?



   

                   

Now, wait. I -



   

                   

It would be so much easier

for both of us



   

                   

if you would cease to pretend.



   

                   

Look here -



   

                   

The dead man found out what

he had been sent here to discover.



   

                   

That's why he was killed.



   

                   

He told you what he had discovered.



   

                   

Why? Because he placed

complete confidence in you.



   

                   

You not only ask the questions,

you answer em too, don't you?



   

                   

Let me ask you a question.



   

                   

Assuming that Bernard trusted me

as implicitly as you say,



   

                   

then I'd never reveal

anything he said to me.



   

                   

Even Americans, I suppose,



   

                   

find it sometimes desirable

to betray a confidence.



   

                   

Let's get some things straight here.



   

                   

I'm a tourist. I'm travelling for pleasure.



   

                   

I somehow got involved in this

very unfortunate incident,



   

                   

and I came here to make

a simple statement of fact



   

                   

and not be subjected to a police grilling.



   

                   

- I would like you -

- No, you let me finish.



   

                   

Entrez.



   

                   

Wait a minute. Did he say

I was wanted on the telephone?



   

                   

I'll take that call now.



   

                   

- But, sir -

- You just take it easy.



   

                   

- Hello.

-  Dr McKenna?



   

                   

This is Dr McKenna. Who's this?



   

                   

If you tell even one word



   

                   

of what Louis Bernard whispered to you



   

                   

your little boy will be in serious danger.



   

                   

Remember, say nothing.



   

                   

Hello?



   

                   

Drayton?



   

                   

Didn't you tell me your wife was going

to take Hank back to the hotel?



   

                   

- I thought so, yes.

- Call her up.



   

                   

Somebody just called me,

threatened me about Hank.



   

                   

Call her up, see if he's alright.



   

                   

Hotel Mamounia?



   

                   

Bien. Merci.



   

                   

My wife doesn't answer.



   

                   

Concierge? 



   

                   

Oh. Bien. Merci.



   

                   

Oh, ye - Uh...



   

                   

What's your room number?



   

                   

   .



   

                   

Bien. Merci.



   

                   

I can't believe it.



   

                   

- She hasn't come back yet, huh?

- At least, nobody's seen her.



   

                   

Alright, now you go back to the hotel.



   

                   

You - And...

see if you can find out what's going on.



   

                   

It's so unlike my wife.



   

                   

I'll take care of the police

and join you as soon as I can.



   

                   

Look here. Don't worry.



   

                   

It's probably some

stupid misunderstanding.



   

                   

If I find anything out before you get back,

I'll telephone you here.



   

                   

- Don't waste any time.

- Goodbye.



   

                   

Who was it, Ben?



   

                   

It was the, uh...



   

                   

the, uh... concierge at the hotel.



   

                   

He found out we were

being held by the police.



   

                   

He just called to see

if there was anything he could do.



   

                   

- That's very nice of him.

- Yes, I thought so.



   

                   

I told him if we weren't

back there in    minutes,



   

                   

for him to call the American Consulate

at Casablanca.



   

                   

But, monsieur,

if you had only told me in the first place



   

                   

that you wished

to consult with your consul.



   

                   

Yeah, yeah. Come on, Jo.



   

                   

There is just one small formality.



   

                   

I must request you to sign a statement.



   

                   

If it doesn't take too long, of course.



   

                   

Wait a moment. I will send for a typist.



   

                   

Ben?



   

                   

Yeah?



   

                   

Aren't you going to

let me see the message?



   

                   

I don't - I...



   

                   

I don't think I should.



   

                   

Darling, I'm not the police inspector.



   

                   

I think that I should see it.



   

                   

Ben, why didn't you

give this to the police?



   

                   

- Because I didn't want to.

- But, Ben, a man's life -



   

                   

Is at stake, yeah I know.



   

                   

I just - l-I don't know

what's the right thing to do.



   

                   

We should go back to the hotel,

pick up Hank and get out of here.



   

                   

- Maybe.

- Think about Hank.



   

                   

What a terrible thing this is for him,



   

                   

seeing a man murdered

right before his eyes.



   

                   

- It's a horrible shock to a little boy.

- I know.



   

                   

Why don't you take that note,

give it to the American Consulate,



   

                   

and let's not

get any more involved, please.



   

                   

Why don't you get the key?

I'll take care of the driver.



   

                   

Alright.



   

                   

Say, uh... you know a Mrs Drayton?



   

                   

- English lady.

- That's right.



   

                   

Did you see her coming

from the marketplace in the last hour?



   

                   

- No, sir.

- Wait a minute. This is very important.



   

                   

- She had my little boy with her.

- No, sir.



   

                   

- What about Mr Drayton?

- Mr Drayton checked out.



   

                   

- He what?

- Checked out.



   

                   

- But he couldn't have.

- Yes, sir, he did.



   

                   

Mr Drayton, the Englishman

with the horn-rimmed glasses.



   

                   

Yes, sir. He checked out.



   

                   

I don't know about you,

but I'm exhausted.



   

                   

I'll call Mrs Drayton,

tell her she can bring Hank back.



   

                   

- Just hold that call a minute, Jo.

- Why?



   

                   

Because I asked you to!



   

                   

Ben, are we about to have

our monthly fight?



   

                   

I hope not.



   

                   

Well, then stop acting like that.



   

                   

I merely said

I was going to call Mrs Drayton.



   

                   

Just a minute.



   

                   

Wait a minute.



   

                   

Just a minute. Just a minute.



   

                   

I want you to take these.

They'll relax you.



   

                   

Relax me? I'm so relaxed I'm tired.



   

                   

- Maybe you need them.

- These are for you, Jo.



   

                   

- I'm the doctor. Here.

- Ben -



   

                   

You know what happens

when you get excited and nervous.



   

                   

Here. Do me a favour.



   

                   

Six months ago you told me

I took too many pills.



   

                   

Six months ago you weren't

a witness to a murder.



   

                   

You've been excited.

You've been talking a blue streak.



   

                   

- You've been walking around in circles.

- I haven't!



   

                   

Jo, I make my living knowing

when and how to administer medicine.



   

                   

You'll feel better if you take these.



   

                   

You don't think you will -

I'll make a deal with you.



   

                   

We'll make a deal. What is this?



   

                   

There's something about

this Louis Bernard, the police station



   

                   

and this whole spy business

I haven't told you yet.



   

                   

- What?

- Here's the price of curiosity.



   

                   

- What is it?

- There's one way of finding out.



   

                   

Alright, Dr McKenna.

I'm now relaxed and listening.



   

                   

There's been something strange about

this whole thing from the very beginning.



   

                   

It wasn't any accident Louis Bernard

came up to us, helped us on the bus



   

                   

and started up a conversation.



   

                   

- You were right about him.

- You see there?



   

                   

I know. I know. That's what I said.



   

                   

You were right. He was strange.



   

                   

Yes, I know all that.

But what were you going to tell me?



   

                   

He started to talk to us,

and the reason he started



   

                   

was because he was on the lookout

for a suspicious married couple.



   

                   

There's nothing very suspicious-looking

about us, is there?



   

                   

No, because he was wrong.

It was a different married couple.



   

                   

Oh. And he was killed

before he found them?



   

                   

No, he found them.

He found them, all right.



   

                   

It was in the restaurant

where we had dinner last night.



   

                   

That's one of the reasons

he was killed.



   

                   

You'll be telling me next

it's Mr and Mrs Drayton.



   

                   

That's who it was, Jo.



   

                   

Ben, if this is your idea of a joke,

it's not a very funny one.



   

                   

- I think I'll lie down.

- Now, listen to me, Jo.



   

                   

Now, listen to me very carefully.



   

                   

That phone call at the police station,

that wasn't the concierge at the hotel.



   

                   

That was a man with a foreign voice.



   

                   

He told me if I mentioned one single word

of what Bernard told me in the market,



   

                   

that something

would happen to Hank.



   

                   

Hank? Why Hank?



   

                   

They've taken him away.



   

                   

But Mrs Drayton brought him

back to the hotel.



   

                   

Mrs Drayton never got back to the hotel

and neither did Hank.



   

                   

- But Mr Drayton -

- Listen, Jo.



   

                   

Mr Drayton checked out

of the hotel    minutes ago.



   

                   

Now, come on, Jo. Sit down.



   

                   

I could kill you!

You gave me sedatives!



   

                   

- Sit down.

- You did! Let go!



   

                   

- Why didn't you tell me?

- I wasn't sure.



   

                   

- You did! You did!

- Jo, please! Please!



   

                   

Let go of me! Let go!



   

                   

- Ben!

- Lie down, Jo.



   

                   

Oh, Ben, let me find my baby!



   

                   

Oh, dear God!



   

                   

- I want my boy!

- Jo, please.



   

                   

Ben, please. Oh, dear God!



   

                   

Where is he, Ben?



   

                   

Forgive me, Jo.



   

                   

Forgive me.



   

                   

There's still no word of him, Jo.



   

                   

The Draytons are definitely gone.



   

                   

The register in the hotel

says they came from London.



   

                   

Drayton told the concierge

he was a college professor.



   

                   

I don't think there's

anything we can do here, Jo.



   

                   

I can't bring the police in.



   

                   

I'd even thought of taking that chance.



   

                   

But the minute they connect

Hank's disappearance



   

                   

with Louis Bernard's murder,



   

                   

then the first thing they'll do

is make me tell them



   

                   

what Louis Bernard whispered to me

in the market place.



   

                   

That won't do Hank any good.



   

                   

We're going to London.



   

                   

The Draytons had a private aeroplane.

I found that out.



   

                   

That's how they got Hank out of here.



   

                   

It could land anyplace,

no trouble with passports or anything.



   

                   

So we're going to London to find him.



   

                   

Now, Jo... now listen to me.

This is what Bernard said.



   

                   

"A man, a statesman,

is to be killed, assassinated,



   

                   

in London soon, very soon.



   

                   

Tell them in London

to try Ambrose Chappell."



   

                   

That's the fella we've got to find.



   

                   

If he knows anything, I'm gonna offer him

every penny I have to get Hank back.



   

                   

The Chappell guy's our only hope.

Do you understand?



   

                   

I've got a car waiting downstairs.



   

                   

I've paid the hotel bill.

We get packed, we'll be all set.



   

                   

Honey?



   

                   

We don't have much time.

You'll have to get up and get ready.



   

                   

Please, Jo.



   

                   

Please, Jo.



   

                   

Would you just wait, sir?



   

                   

- Come this way.

-  Jo! Love from the fan club!



   

                   

How could they

remember me so well, Ben?



   

                   

It's been four years

since I played London.



   

                   

You're the kind of gal they don't forget.



   

                   

Who told them we were coming?

Ben, you didn't -



   

                   

I wired the Parnells to get us a hotel.

I never figured on anything like this.



   

                   

Dr and Mrs McKenna,



   

                   

I'm Inspector Edington of

the Criminal Investigation Department.



   

                   

As things are, there's no need for you

to go through customs. Come this way.



   

                   

How about a photo, Jo?



   

                   

Hi, Jo!



   

                   

This way, please.



   

                   

 We want Jo!



   

                   

This is Mr Woburn. Dr and Mrs McKenna.



   

                   

- How do you do?

- What do you people want with us?



   

                   

- Mr Buchanan would like to talk to you.

- Who's he?



   

                   

Special Branch, Scotland Yard.



   

                   

This is Mr Buchanan.

Dr and Mrs McKenna.



   

                   

How do you do? Thank you, Woburn.



   

                   

Do sit down, won't you?



   

                   

Let me say we're shocked that your son

was taken from you in Marrakech,



   

                   

and deeply sympathetic.



   

                   

- Do you know where he is?

- Have you heard anything?



   

                   

I only wish I could give you

some cheerful news,



   

                   

but we might find him quite soon, indeed,

if we work together.



   

                   

Bernard the Frenchman

was sent to Morocco at our request



   

                   

to check up on an assassination plot

here in London.



   

                   

You know, a good agent keeps on

staking his life. He doesn't always win.



   

                   

Bernard reckoned you

were a man to trust.



   

                   

He relied on you to come to us.



   

                   

Those people kidnapped your boy

in order to keep your mouth shut.



   

                   

- That's right, isn't it?

- No, I think they took him for money.



   

                   

Why didn't you go to your consulate

in Casablanca? Why come to London?



   

                   

- Well, I...

- Mr Buchanan -



   

                   

You're convinced these people

brought your son to London.



   

                   

You're convinced you can find him

off your own bat.



   

                   

You can't. It's impossible.



   

                   

But with the help we can give you,

there's a chance.



   

                   

- A really good chance.

- But they told us not to say anything.



   

                   

Anything you tell me will be

in the most absolute confidence.



   

                   

Yes, that may be true, but -



   

                   

Your son is the trump card

these people hold.



   

                   

He's perfectly safe for the moment.



   

                   

When they've done what they want,

they'll let him go.



   

                   

Are we supposed to just sit and wait?



   

                   

If they consider your boy a nuisance,

afterwards, I'm afraid...



   

                   

There's no need for you to try

and scare us, Mr Buchanan.



   

                   

That's exactly what I am trying to do -

scare you.



   

                   

I'm trying to prevent

a man being murdered here in London.



   

                   

If you don't tell me all you know,



   

                   

you become an accessory

before the fact of murder.



   

                   

- Ben, what can we do by ourselves?

- Now, wait just a minute.



   

                   

You've been working

on the wrong McKenna.



   

                   

- Bernard talked to me, not my wife.

- Then, you tell me.



   

                   

He spoke to me in French.

I don't understand a word of it.



   

                   

Oh, Ben,

maybe they could find those people



   

                   

Maybe's not good enough for me.



   

                   

I don't think it ought to be

good enough for you.



   

                   

- You're not the only one concerned -

- I didn't mean it that way.



   

                   

We made up our minds

what we're gonna do. Let's stick to it.



   

                   

I'm sorry, Mr Buchanan, we...



   

                   

we'd like to cooperate with you

on this thing, but we just can't.



   

                   

I've got a son of my own.



   

                   

I don't know what I'd do.



   

                   

Excuse me.



   

                   

Telephone call for you, Mrs McKenna.



   

                   

Put the telephone call for Mrs McKenna

through here please.



   

                   

- Hello.

-  Mrs McKenna?



   

                   

- Yes.

- This is Mrs Drayton. Remember me?



   

                   

Mrs Drayton.



   

                   

Where is our son?

Where have you got him?



   

                   

He's here with me.

You mustn't worry about him.



   

                   

Where's our son?

Where have you got him?



   

                   

I expect you'd like to speak to him.



   

                   

Yes, please. Please.



   

                   

- Hank! Hello, Hank!

-  Just a minute.



   

                   

Mommy? Mommy, is that you?



   

                   

Oh, Hank darling,

are you really all right?



   

                   

I'm a little scared, Mommy,

but I'm all right, I guess.



   

                   

I miss you, Mommy. I miss you so much!



   

                   

Oh, here. Hank. Hank, this is Daddy.



   

                   

- Is Mommy crying?

- Hank, listen to me.



   

                   

Where are you? Where are you?



   

                   

I didn't mean to make her cry, Daddy,

but I'm scared and I want to see her.



   

                   

Hank, now listen to me.

Tell me - where are you?



   

                   

- Welbeck, eight...

- Yeah?



   

                   

Eight? Come on, Hank.



   

                   

Hank!



   

                   

Ben, he was so scared.



   

                   

It was a London telephone exchange.



   

                   

Public call box - West One.



   

                   

Do I have to say any more?

Come on, dear.



   

                   

You may change your minds.



   

                   

If you do...



   

                   

this number will find me.



   

                   

Baggage for Air France flight    .



   

                   

- Everything all right, sir?

- Yeah, yeah.



   

                   

- Your room key.

- Thank you.



   

                   

Oh, uh, here.



   

                   

- Thank you, sir.

- There you are.



   

                   

It's from the Parnells.

"Welcome home, Jo.



   

                   

Look forward to seeing your family,

especially the little -"



   

                   

"With love, from Jan and Cindy."

That's very nice.



   

                   

"Ambrose Chappell."



   

                   

There he is, big as life.

"   Burdett Street, Camden Town,



   

                   

Gulliver     ."



   

                   

What are you going to say?



   

                   

That I'll keep my mouth shut

and offer him all the money we have.



   

                   

Operator?



   

                   

Operator, I want Gulliver     .



   

                   

I'll get it.



   

                   

Jo! Oh, you look wonderful!



   

                   

When we got your wire,

I couldn't believe it.



   

                   

- What were you doing in Morocco?

- Sightseeing.



   

                   

You're the perfect answer to what

London needs, Jo. This week's so dull.



   

                   

Ambrose Chappell?



   

                   

Mr Ambrose Chappell?



   

                   

Oh, Mr Conway,

I didn't know you were there.



   

                   

McKenna! Dr McKenna.

Welcome to London town, Doctor.



   

                   

I knew you were married, but a doctor?



   

                   

How clever. Especially in

such a psychosomatic business.



   

                   

Jan, be quiet. You wouldn't know

what psychosomatic means.



   

                   

It's when your mind gets sick

of your body.



   

                   

- The doctor's trying to telephone.

- No, no. It's just some business.



   

                   

Business is everything. Shh.



   

                   

Hello. Hello? Ambrose Chappell.



   

                   

I say, is this Mr Ambrose Chappell?



   

                   

My name's McKenna.



   

                   

Dr Benjamin McKenna.



   

                   

We don't need to be quiet.

How about a drink?



   

                   

I was wondering

if you'd be at your address for a while.



   

                   

I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes.



   

                   

Thank you. I'll be right over.



   

                   

I'd like all of you to meet my husband.



   

                   

I've heard so much about you.

It's nice to see you in person.



   

                   

This is Val's wife, Helen.



   

                   

You look just like those pictures Jo had.

Haven't changed a bit.



   

                   

Why should he? He's a doctor.

Probably gets free hormones.



   

                   

I'm Jan Peterson.

I sing almost as well as your wife.



   

                   

And this is Cindy Fontaine

from Harrisburg, PA.



   

                   

Oh, Harrisburg. Been back home lately?



   

                   

How can I?

They know me there as Elva McDuff.



   

                   

It doesn't quite fit me any more.



   

                   

Where's your boy? I'd like to see

which one of you he looks like.



   

                   

He's staying with some other people

so we could have some time alone.



   

                   

-  What's his name?

- Hank. Henry, really.



   

                   

 I hope he looks like you

and has the doctor's brains.



   

                   

These flowers are lovely -



   

                   

Well, I'll order some drinks.



   

                   

OK, but dinner tonight's on me,

a "welcome home" for Jo.



   

                   

I wish I could persuade

her to stay a month.



   

                   

I'm terribly sorry,

but I have an appointment.



   

                   

I wonder if you'd order the drinks.

I'll be back as soon as I can.



   

                   

- Excuse me, please.

- Ben, please.



   

                   

- Ben...

- It's got to be done.



   

                   

- Take me with you.

- I can't. I won't disappear.



   

                   

- Please let me go with you.

- Two are easier to follow than one.



   

                   

We don't want Buchanan's men

or the others on our tracks.



   

                   

I'm going out through

the service entrance.



   

                   

- Yes, sir?

- Ambrose Chappell?



   

                   

Come in.



   

                   

There's a gent to see you, sir.



   

                   

Good afternoon, sir.

I am Ambrose Chappell.



   

                   

What can I do for you?



   

                   

Well, I - I, uh -



   

                   

If you gave me your name,

that might be a start.



   

                   

My name is McKenna.

Dr Benjamin McKenna.



   

                   

- I phoned you.

- Oh, yes, yes.



   

                   

You are Ambrose Chappell?



   

                   

Well, I've been Ambrose Chappell

for nearly    years.



   

                   

But, uh...

I think I understand your problem.



   

                   

- You do, huh?

- Certainly.



   

                   

It happens all the time.

You expected someone else?



   

                   

Just a moment. Ambrose?



   

                   

I think this gentleman

wants to talk to us.



   

                   

Now, Father, why don't you

go and have a nice rest?



   

                   

Hm? I have centuries of rest

ahead of me, thank you.



   

                   

Good day to you, sir.



   

                   

- Now, what can I do for you?

- I'm Dr McKenna.



   

                   

- That name mean anything to you?

- No. No, I don't think so.



   

                   

You've no idea why I'm here?



   

                   

My dear sir, I haven't the faintest idea.



   

                   

But your name was given to me

by someone I met in Marrakech.



   

                   

- Oh, yes?

- Yes, and I think you know this man.



   

                   

- Louis Bernard, a Frenchman.

- Louis Bernard?



   

                   

Let's stop fooling around. Bernard

told me to come here just before he died.



   

                   

This man is... dead?



   

                   

You know he's dead just as well as I do.



   

                   

Now, I have a business proposition.

I don't see how you can turn it down.



   

                   

- Exactly what had you in mind?

- Well er... You want to talk here?



   

                   

Certainly.

We have no secrets from our employees.



   

                   

OK, now, in the first place,



   

                   

I haven't uttered a word of what Bernard

told me before he died, and I never will.



   

                   

Frankly, I'm not interested

in political intrigue.



   

                   

I don't care who you fellows

are gonna kill in London.



   

                   

All I want's that boy, and I'll take

the next aeroplane back to America.



   

                   

Come on, please. Listen to me, will ya?



   

                   

Honestly, if money means anything to you,

I'll do...



   

                   

Father, call the police.

Shall we go into this -



   

                   

Wait a minute.

You told him to call the police.



   

                   

- What's the idea, trying to bluff me?

- My dear sir -



   

                   

- And you don't know Louis Bernard?

- Never heard of him.



   

                   

You've got no idea what happened

in Marrakech and where my boy is?



   

                   

- No.

- Where is he?



   

                   

William! Edgar! Davis! Help!



   

                   

Now, wait a minute! Wait! Hold on.



   

                   

It's obvious I'm in the wrong place.

Now, let go of me.



   

                   

Come on. Listen to me.



   

                   

Wait.



   

                   

I made a mistake. Now, let me go.



   

                   

Hold him! Hold him!



   

                   

Ouch!



   

                   

Hold him. Hold him.



   

                   

He said that even if Bud Flanagan

was dressed by Hartnell,



   

                   

nobody would believe

he was an aristocrat.



   

                   

So I said, "Listen, Chris,



   

                   

why don't you take William

Hickey's column out of the paper?



   

                   

Jo? Jo, what's become of that

unpredictable husband of yours?



   

                   

He's been gone over an hour now.



   

                   

- He went to see some man. Church?

- No, it was Chappell.



   

                   

It's not a man. It's a place.



   

                   

It's Ambrose Chapel!



   

                   

- Do they list chapels in the directory?

- Let's take a look.



   

                   

Please help me find it.



   

                   

Let's see. Here we are. Ambrose...



   

                   

Ambrose and Chafer...

Ambrose Chapel!    Ambrose Street, W .



   

                   

   Ambrose Street, W .



   

                   

   Ambrose Street, W .



   

                   

   Ambrose Street.



   

                   

Look, darlings, I have to go.



   

                   

I'm very sorry. Have another drink.

I'll be back as soon as I can.



   

                   

And explain to Ben when he comes in,

would you?



   

                   

Explain what?



   

                   

Look, there's something

weird going on here and I -



   

                   

Let's try to figure the whole thing out.

First, there was a man named -



   

                   

- Ambrose Chappell.

- And Ben dashed off to see him.



   

                   

Then Jo said it wasn't a man but a place

and she dashed off.



   

                   

Don't mention it again,

or I might dash off.



   

                   

- What a temptation.

- Can you fathom it?



   

                   

It's probably some new American gag.



   

                   

-  Well, hello again.

- Oh.



   

                   

I'm awfully sorry I had to rush off,

but there was something I had to do.



   

                   

Oh, boy, I could use this.



   

                   

Thank you. Well, I - Where's Jo?



   

                   

- She's gone to Ambrose Chapel.

- I just came from there.



   

                   

- Not your Ambrose Chappell.

- It isn't a he, it's a building.



   

                   

 She just left    minutes ago.



   

                   

She... What? What do you mean?



   

                   

- Where's the address?

- I'll look it up again.



   

                   

What is this? You say it's a building?



   

                   

Ambrose Chapel,

   Ambrose Street, Bayswater.



   

                   

   Ambrose Street, Bayswater.



   

                   

Yes? Doctor!

Doctor, come back! It's Jo.



   

                   

- Jo?

- Ben? What happened?



   

                   

- No. It was a wild-goose chase.

- It must be the chapel. I've found it.



   

                   

It's just a short way from here.



   

                   

I know the address. I'll be right over.



   

                   

I'll meet you outside.



   

                   

Bye, dear.

What did you say the address was?



   

                   

   Ambrose Street, Bayswater.



   

                   

I don't know how to thank you.



   

                   

Three men. You don't know much

about checkers, do you?



   

                   

You'd better go to bed,

or you'll be overtired.



   

                   

Can I finish? I'm winning.



   

                   

Yes, finish.

Edna, see he has some milk and biscuits.



   

                   

He'd better be put to sleep.

I've got to get downstairs.



   

                   

No, it's not necessary tonight.

You'll sleep, Hank, won't you?



   

                   

- I guess so.

- Oh, hurry up, if you want to finish this.



   

                   

Look, it doesn't hurt to be kind, does it?



   

                   

Give me a yell

when you want me to unlock the door.



   

                   

- Can I come in?

- Yes.



   

                   

I wish it was tomorrow.



   

                   

That's not a very orthodox sentiment.



   

                   

Ah, before I forget.



   

                   

Here you are, my friend.



   

                   

Two tickets for the concert

at the Albert Hall, with my compliments.



   

                   

Your box is nicely placed.



   

                   

Or, should we say, strategically placed.



   

                   

- And now for the most important part.

- What is it?



   

                   

A record of the delightful piece

they're going to play.



   

                   

 Music's less in your line

than marksmanship.



   

                   

If you listen, I'm going to play you

the exact moment when you can shoot.



   

                   

So listen carefully.



   

                   

  Finding...



   

                   

  Release!



   

                   

We'll have it once more.

Listen for the crash of the cymbals.



   

                   

  Finding...



   

                   

  Release!  



   

                   

You see? At such a moment,

your shot will never be heard.



   

                   

Even the listeners

will be undisturbed.



   

                   

I think the composer would've

appreciated that. No-one will know.



   

                   

- No-one except one.

- That's right, if you're clever, my friend.



   

                   

- Any questions, musical or otherwise?

- No.



   

                   

There's one comforting thought -

it happens early in the evening.



   

                   

I hope I shan't upset you if I tell you

you've only time for one shot.



   

                   

- If you need another, the risk is yours.

- I don't take risks.



   

                   

I'm very glad to hear that.



   

                   

Traipsing all the way to Marrakech

for you, I should like you to do me credit.



   

                   

Your distinguished target

is already on his way.



   

                   

There's a car waiting for you downstairs

in the back entrance.



   

                   

You're to pick up a Miss Benson

on the way. She'll be your companion.



   

                   

She'll lend you an air of respectability,

if that's possible.



   

                   

Will you have the money

when I return?



   

                   

Don't you trust me?



   

                   

What is your English proverb?



   

                   

"A wolf in sheep's clothing."



   

                   

A very clever disguise, I must say.



   

                   

I think you'd better be going.

It's impolite to be late for a concert.



   

                   

And it would be awkward if they made

you wait until the first item was over.



   

                   

- Will you show our friend to the car?

- Yes, of course.



   

                   

I'm sorry you have to sneak out, but

we must preserve a respectable front.



   

                   

  Finding...



   

                   

  Release!  



   

                   

There it is.



   

                   

Yeah. You just may have hit it

right on the nose.



   

                   

You can't be farther wrong than I was.



   

                   

- Let's go.

- Should we get help from the police?



   

                   

No, honey, please.

Let's take a crack at this alone.



   

                   

  Portents abound



   

                   

  That earth



   

                   

  And heav'n



   

                   

  Amaze



   

                   

  Wherefore



   

                   

  Do earthquakes



   

                   

  Cleave the ground?



   

                   

  Why hides the sun



   

                   

  In shame?



   

                   

  Let sin no more...



   

                   

- Ben.

- Ssh, ssh!



   

                   

  My soul enslave



   

                   

  Break now...



   

                   

  This is just another wild goose chase



   

                   

-   O save me

-   Let's wait -



   

                   

-   Whom Thou camst

-   And look around



   

                   

  To save



   

                   

  Nor bleed



   

                   

-   Nor die in vain

-   Look who's coming down the aisle



   

                   

  From whence



   

                   

  These dire



   

                   

  Portents abound?



   

                   

  That earth and heav'n



   

                   

  Amaze



   

                   

  Wherefore



   

                   

  Do earthquakes



   

                   

  Cleave the ground?



   

                   

  Why hides



   

                   

  The sun



   

                   

  In shame?



   

                   

  Let sin



   

                   

  No more



   

                   

  My soul enslave



   

                   

  Break now



   

                   

  The tyrant's chain



   

                   

  O save me



   

                   

  Whom Thou camst



   

                   

  To save



    

                   

  Nor bleed



    

                   

  Nor die



    

                   

  In vain  



    

                   

The subject of my address

to you this evening is adversity.



    

                   

The average life,

yours and mine,



    

                   

is often harassed and perplexed



    

                   

by disappointments and by cruelties



    

                   

beyond our control.



    

                   

Now, strangely enough, it is often

these things beyond our control...



    

                   

That's Buchanan's number.



    

                   

Go out, call him up, tell him to surround

this place with police.



    

                   

- What if he asks me -

- Tell him anything.



    

                   

This is the time.

I'm sure Hank's round here someplace.



    

                   

- But I don't want to leave you.

- I don't know how else to do it, honey.



    

                   

You go on now.



    

                   

... our own goodness,



    

                   

and therefore

the goodness of all mankind.



    

                   

Few of us pause



    

                   

to consider how life's adversities

work in our behalf



    

                   

to make better men and women of us.



    

                   

But I think we should pause,

and pause now,



    

                   

to do a little stocktaking,

to look into our own hearts and lives



    

                   

and see what we find there.



    

                   

Therefore,

instead of continuing the service,



    

                   

I think we should all

return to our homes



    

                   

for private meditation, remembering

how little we have to complain of



    

                   

and how much to be grateful for.



    

                   

Next week, I shall discuss

the fruits of our meditations.



    

                   

Until then, my blessing

upon each and every one of you.



    

                   

This is a pleasant surprise, Doctor.



    

                   

Where's my boy, Drayton?



    

                   

He's upstairs.



    

                   

You've come just in time

to help my wife with his food.



    

                   

It seems Hank doesn't care

for our English cooking.



    

                   

What do you want?



    

                   

I'll give you money, keep my mouth shut.

All I want's my boy.



    

                   

And what about your wife? Did she

go outside just to get some fresh air?



    

                   

Tell me what you want.

I'll do anything.



    

                   

All right. You'll see your boy.

All in good time.



    

                   

Hank! Hank McKenna!



    

                   

 Daddy?



    

                   

Daddy! I'm here, Daddy!



    

                   

I'm here!



    

                   

My husband's there now, watching them.



    

                   

He sent me to call you so you could

do something before they get away.



    

                   

It isn't as easy as all that.



    

                   

My husband is in that chapel

waiting for me to bring help.



    

                   

May I speak to Mr Buchanan?

He told me to call him if I needed him.



    

                   

I'm awfully sorry.

I can't get in touch with him.



    

                   

He's at an important diplomatic affair

at the Albert Hall.



    

                   

Then call him there! Please call him.



    

                   

He's on his way.

I don't know how -



    

                   

Mr Woburn, it isn't a matter of days,

it's a matter of minutes.



    

                   

Now, you've got to send

the police right away!



    

                   

- Or do I have to go to Albert Hall myself?

- That won't be necessary.



    

                   

I'll have the chapel

put under immediate observation.



    

                   

By the time you get back,

a police car should be there.



    

                   

Tell your husband to come out

and let the police take over.



    

                   

Woburn, Special Branch. Hold on.

I must ring off, Mrs McKenna.



    

                   

Please believe me.

I'll have everything laid on.



    

                   

There's nobody there.



    

                   

- Are you Mrs McKenna?

- Yes. There's something wrong, officer.



    

                   

That place was full of people a few

minutes ago and now there's no-one.



    

                   

We are to keep it under observation

until the Scotland Yard car arrives.



    

                   

But my husband is in there.

There were    or    people -



    

                   

- When was this?

- No more than five minutes ago.



    

                   

- Hm, let's take a look.

- I've tried the door. It's locked.



    

                   

We'll have to force it open.



    

                   

I'm sorry, madam. We can't break in.



    

                   

- Requires a search warrant.

- Well, can't we get one?



    

                   

That all takes time.

We'll have a look around, shall we?



    

                   

Matthews, take the other end.



    

                   

- There' s no-one there.

- Are you certain this place was just full?



    

                   

Of course I'm certain.

I was there myself with my husband.



    

                   

He sent me out to call Scotland Yard.



    

                   

I'm afraid it's much too complicated

to explain why.



    

                   

We'll just have to sit tight

and wait for the car from The Yard.



    

                   

- There's no sign of life.

- Report back here.



    

                   

Very good, sir. Walden, you stand by

and wait for the car from The Yard.



    

                   

- That's all, Matthews.

- You're not leaving?



    

                   

Orders, madam.

Can we give you a lift somewhere?



    

                   

- Take me to Albert Hall, please.

- The Albert Hall's off our beat.



    

                   

Suppose we drop you off

at the nearest taxi rank?



    

                   

Wait here.



    

                   

- They're here.

- Wait till I clear the kitchen.



    

                   

Everybody out!

Into the corridor. Five minutes.



    

                   

Come on!



    

                   

Do as he tells you.

Come on. It'll only take a minute.



    

                   

Come on. All of you, out.



    

                   

All right. This way.



    

                   

Always something funny going on

at this embassy.



    

                   

- Bringing people in in secret.

- Give me the Swiss embassy anytime.



    

                   

There's neutrality for you.



    

                   

Please, may I see the manager?



    

                   

I'm sorry, madam.

The manager's on duty in the lobby.



    

                   

- So is his assistant.

- I must speak with them.



    

                   

Over there somewhere.



    

                   

You have a very nice

little boy, madam.



    

                   

His safety will depend

upon you tonight.



    

                   

Where is he? Where is he?



    

                   

Good evening.



    

                   

- Is that the prime minister?

-  No, the ambassador.



    

                   

His prime minister's

the one with the bald head.



    

                   

- Your ticket, madam?

- I'm sorry. I'm looking for someone.



    

                   

Cantata - Storm Clouds



    

                   

  There came



    

                   

  A whispered terror



    

                   

  On the breeze



    

                   

  And the dark forest shook



    

                   

  And on the trembling trees



    

                   

  Came the nameless fear



    

                   

  And panic overtook



    

                   

  And panic overtook



    

                   

  Each flying creature



    

                   

  Of the wild



    

                   

   And when they all had fled



    

                   

  And when they all had fled



    

                   

  And when they all had fled



    

                   

  And when they all had fled



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Around whose heads



    

                   

  Screaming



    

                   

  The night birds wheeled

and shot away



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Around



    

                   

  Whose head



    

                   

  Screaming



    

                   

  The night birds



    

                   

  Wheeled



    

                   

  And shot



    

                   

  Away



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  From that which drove them

onward like their prey



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  From that which drove them

onward like their prey



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  The storm clouds



    

                   

   Finding release



    

                   

  From that which drove them

onward like their prey



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  from that which drove them

onward like their prey



    

                   

  Yet stood the trees



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke

and drowned the dying moon



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  And drowned the dying moon



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  Finding release



    

                   

  The storm clouds broke



    

                   

  Finding



    

                   

  Release  



    

                   

What happened?



    

                   

I saw the gun.

He was pointing it at the Prime Minister.



    

                   

He was going to kill him,

and I realised I had to scream.



    

                   

- Then he didn't kill him?

- Your wife saved him.



    

                   

Oh, there they are.



    

                   

Please come over

and let the prime minister thank you.



    

                   

It won't take very long.

Would you come along?



    

                   

Oh, yes.



    

                   

Yes. Prime Minister,

this is the young lady.



    

                   

Dear lady, I'm forever in your debt.



    

                   

 This is her husband.



    

                   

I trust you'll permit me

to wait upon you tomorrow



    

                   

and to express

to you the depth of my gratitude.



    

                   

- It wasn't -

- But it was, my dear lady. It was.



    

                   

Will you excuse us.



    

                   

Excuse me, but I have to go.



    

                   

I think Mr Buchanan

would like a word with you.



    

                   

Where's our boy? Where's Hank?



    

                   

We can talk if you'll come in here.



    

                   

So you both knew

the time and place all along.



    

                   

Don't be a fool.



    

                   

An odd coincidence,

both of you turning up here.



    

                   

It's a pity you didn't contact

your assistant. He told us you were here.



    

                   

- I beg your pardon?

- We need that help you offered.



    

                   

Sir, we've questioned

the woman.



    

                   

Said she bought a ticket which happened

to place her in the box



    

                   

with the man

who did the shooting.



    

                   

- If she knows anything, she won't say.

- I'll see her later.



    

                   

- Very good, sir.

- Please tell me everything, now.



    

                   

Everything.

There's still plenty of room for hope.



    

                   

His Excellency will see you now.



    

                   

And that's that, I suppose.



    

                   

Yes. All right.



    

                   

Excuse me, sir.

I have a lot to explain to you.



    

                   

Something very unusual has happened.



    

                   

I also have to have the money

to pay the marksman.



    

                   

Wouldn't that be superfluous,



    

                   

considering... that he's dead?



    

                   

His aim wasn't quite as good

as you led me to expect.



    

                   

The target merely received

a slight flesh wound in the arm.



    

                   

Worse than useless.



    

                   

Then your French friend panicked,

made a fatal crash,



    

                   

landing on the floor of the Albert Hall.



    

                   

I don't see how you

can blame me for that.



    

                   

He was warmly recommended

by our people in Marrakech.



    

                   

I'm glad that you are able

to treat the matter so lightly.



    

                   

I'm holding a reception

here this evening.



    

                   

In a few moments, I have to welcome

our prime minister as my guest of honour,



    

                   

when I hoped and expected

that he would be totally unable to attend.



    

                   

- That amuses you, no doubt.

- I don't know what to say...



    

                   

No.



    

                   

But I do. You have muddled everything

from the start.



    

                   

Taking that child

with you from Marrakech.



    

                   

Don't you realise that Americans

dislike having their children stolen?



    

                   

How else could I make sure

that McKenna would keep quiet?



    

                   

Then, to crown it all, you get cold feet



    

                   

and come running along here to hide,

bringing the wretched child with you.



    

                   

Don't you see what you've done

to the diplomatic status of this embassy?



    

                   

I didn't think.

I only thought we could -



    

                   

How are you going to get

the child out of here, eh? Eh? EH?



    

                   

No difficulty about that, surely?

The car.



    

                   

With plainclothes detectives planted

right 'round this building?



    

                   

You English intellectuals

will be the death of us all.



    

                   

I'll think of something.

Only give me time.



    

                   

Time. Huh!



    

                   

I want the child

removed from this embassy,



    

                   

and removed in such a way

that he won't be able to say any more



    

                   

where he has been tonight.



    

                   

Oh, no!



    

                   

- I'll see to it.

- Drayton!



    

                   

I trust that nothing

will go wrong this time.



    

                   

It would be very unfortunate for you if -



    

                   

Yes, come in.



    

                   

Your Excellency, the princess should be

arriving at any moment.



    

                   

I recognised him. He recognised me.



    

                   

He tried to get away, made a jump for it.

That was all.



    

                   

Trying to liquidate

one of their own big shots.



    

                   

I wish they'd stick to their usual custom

and do it in their own country.



    

                   

Yes?



    

                   

Buchanan speaking.



    

                   

Right. Thank you.



    

                   

The Draytons are at the embassy.



    

                   

- The what?

- How do you know?



    

                   

We have ways of finding out,

from the inside.



    

                   

If the Draytons are at the embassy,

then our boy's there too.



    

                   

- Probably. But we can't do anything.

- What do you mean?



    

                   

Every embassy in a foreign country

has extra-territorial rights.



    

                   

- What's that?

- It's as if the embassy is on foreign soil.



    

                   

So they can steal kids

and get away with it? What is this!



    

                   

We could have the Foreign Office serve

a writ on the ambassador.



    

                   

I'm not responsible for the complications

of international law.



    

                   

If only we had some positive proof

that your boy really is in there.



    

                   

Say, wh-what's the phone number

of that embassy?



    

                   

- You got it?

- What are you thinking of -



    

                   

- Let me try something.

- Grosvenor  - - - .



    

                   

Grosvenor  - - -  please.



    

                   

That fellow that got shot's

a prime minister, isn't he?



    

                   

Hello? Hello, I'd like to speak to

the prime minister, please.



    

                   

Yeah, yeah. No, look...



    

                   

Just tell him the lady that saved his life

would like to speak to him.



    

                   

- It's very important.

- Ben, what do I say?



    

                   

He wanted to visit with us

so he could thank you.



    

                   

Tell him you want to come over

to the embassy tonight,



    

                   

cos we're going to leave London

tomorrow.



    

                   

Hello? Here you are.



    

                   

Hello?



    

                   

My dear lady, this is a charming surprise.



    

                   

Uh-huh.



    

                   

Mm-hm. Delighted. Delighted, delighted.



    

                   

The ambassador too would be delighted.



    

                   

Any friends of mine are friends of his.



    

                   

He said all right.



    

                   

- If he asks you, we're all set.

- What if they don't?



    

                   

Have we ever been to a party

where they didn't ask you?



    

                   

Now, your job is to hold

their attention, right?



    

                   

Good evening -

Dr and Mrs McKenna.



    

                   

How very nice to see you.



    

                   

The prime minister's waiting for you.

Come this way.



    

                   

Ah, madame!



    

                   

- Good evening, good evening.

- Good evening.



    

                   

This is the charming lady

who saved my life at the concert.



    

                   

Madam, you saved the life of the one man

who's irreplaceable in our country.



    

                   

I hear you are the famous Jo Conway,

madame?



    

                   

- Yes, I'm Jo Conway.

- Perhaps we might...



    

                   

I'm sure my wife would be delighted

to sing for you.



    

                   

- Wouldn't you, dear?

- Well, it's been quite some time...



    

                   

I beg you, madame.



    

                   

A tranquil coda

to conclude a dramatic evening.



    

                   

I'm very flattered.



    

                   

Um, Stanis?



    

                   

Would you put up some chairs?

And hurry up, please.



    

                   

Ladies and gentlemen, Jo Conway has

consented to sing a few songs for us.



    

                   

Darling, would you see

that the prime minister gets a good seat.



    

                   

Would you like to come to the piano?

I do hope it's tuned.



    

                   

- Would you not like to sit down, sir?

- Er...



    

                   

No, thank you. I'll just stand over here.



    

                   

  When I was just a little girl



    

                   

  I asked my mother, What will I be?



    

                   

  Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?



    

                   

  Here's what she said to me



    

                   

  Que será, será



    

                   

  Whatever will be, will be



    

                   

  The future's not ours to see



    

                   

  Que será, será



    

                   

  What will be, will be



    

                   

  When I was just a child in school



    

                   

  I asked my teacher, What should I try?



    

                   

  Should I paint pictures?

Should I sing songs?



    

                   

  This was her wise reply



    

                   

  Que será, será



    

                   

  Whatever will be, will be



    

                   

  The future's not ours to see



    

                   

  When I grew up and fell in love



    

                   

  I asked my sweetheart,

What lies ahead?



    

                   

  Will we have rainbows day after day



    

                   

  Here's what my sweetheart said



    

                   

  Que será, será



    

                   

   Whatever will be, will be



    

                   

  The future's not ours to see...



    

                   

That's my mother's voice!



    

                   

- That' s my mother singing!

- What?



    

                   

Are you sure, Hank?



    

                   

Are you quite sure?



    

                   

That's her! I know it!



    

                   

What's she doing here?



    

                   

Hank, can you whistle that song?



    

                   

I guess so.



    

                   

Then go on. Whistle it.



    

                   

Whistle it as loud as you can.



    

                   

  Will we have rainbows



    

                   

  Day after day?



    

                   

  Here's what my sweetheart said



    

                   

  Ever will be, will be



    

                   

  The future's not ours to see



    

                   

  Que será, será



    

                   

  What will be, will be



    

                   

  Now I have children of my own



    

                   

  They ask their mother, What will I be?



    

                   

  Will I be handsome? Will I be rich?



    

                   

  I tell them tenderly



    

                   

  Que será, será



    

                   

  Whatever will be, will be



    

                   

  The future's not ours to see



    

                   

  Que será, será



    

                   

  What will be, will be...  



    

                   

You two wait in the mail room.

I'll bring him down.



    

                   

Give me about five minutes.



    

                   

No!



    

                   

Oh, Daddy!



    

                   

Take the boy. Go! But you must be quick!



    

                   

Come on, son.



    

                   

Don't touch him.



    

                   

I don't think

you're going to do any shooting,



    

                   

not with these people

downstairs and police outside.



    

                   

You're not in a very happy

position yourself, you know.



    

                   

- You've got to let the boy go!

- Precisely what I'm thinking.



    

                   

Now I'm sure you're going to be sensible

and help me out of here.



    

                   

Don't ask me for help, you miserable s-



    

                   

You wouldn't want

your father to get hurt, would you, Hank?



    

                   

Now we're going

to walk downstairs together, casually,



    

                   

like three old friends.



    

                   

Then we're going to take a stroll

as far as the nearest taxi rank.



    

                   

I hope there won't be

any emotional scenes on the way down.



    

                   

Do as he says, Hank.



    

                   

No, the other way. The other way.



    

                   

Shall we be going?



    

                   

All right, start down the hall, son.



    

                   

Don't say anything.



    

                   

  Now it's goodbye



    

                   

  And we're facing



    

                   

  Such lonely tomorrows



    

                   

  So many sunsets



    

                   

  Till there's a sunset



    

                   

  When all at once



    

                   

  You'll be there



    

                   

  Then we'll



    

                   

  Kiss again



    

                   

  And again



    

                   

  And again  



    

                   

Hank!



    

                   

Come on, Hank.



    

                   

Oh, Mother!



    

                   

I'm sorry we were gone so long,

but we go and pick up Hank.



    

                   

Ohh!









  

  

 
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