[light music] [train rumbling] [brakes squealing] I do beg your pardon.

This is the right train for Aldersgate, is it not?

Aldersgate, by all means, ma'am.

Aldersgate, of course.

[whistle blowing] Oh, allow me.

Oh, thank you.

What a relief.

You see, I have an appointment in St. Paul's churchyard at 5 o'clock.

Ma'am, it is only a quarter past 4:00.

You have plenty of time.

-I thank you.

-[whistle blowing] My dear, what a happy surprise!

[woman coughing] Dear.

No wonder Laura prefers to ride on the omnibus.

[chuckling] Oh!

Oh, my eye.

Oh, it was a cinder.

Easy.

[whistle blowing] How kind of you.

Thank you, my dear.

These tubes.

I think this must be Farringdon Street.

Perhaps you'd better, oh!

Oh, thank you.

Farringdon Street!

This is Farringdon Street Station!

All change here, please!

All change!

I must apologize, ma'am.

This train certainly should have gone straight through to Aldersgate.

This is Farringdon Street!

Hurry along, if you please.

Come along, then, lady.

Where are you for?

[whistle blowing] [upbeat music] [Narrator] In late Victorian times, there were many detectives, The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes.

[silverware clinking] [voices clamoring] Only when the burly shadows of the two police constables fell across the tracks did the scattered passengers realize something was amiss.

[Chuckling] Turgid stuff.

Now, if only I were writing that article.

You'd give us all the salient facts, eh, Polly, what the well-dressed inspector is wearing?

[chuckling] What'll it be today?

Silverside, if you please, and carrots and peas pudding.

You take my advice, Polly.

You stick to the fashion columns.

You meet a better class of person there, you know?

Mutton and boiled for me, please, miss.

Besides, you do it so well, Pol, all that about Lady Thingummy's hat and Miss What-You-May-Call-It's sunshade.

Not to mention a rather neat little sally from the Bishop of Madagascar.

Very well, Sergeant Frobisher, have your laugh out.

Don't you want any pudding, Pol?

No, thank you, Sergeant, and neither do you.

Ah, I thought perhaps a treacle tart.

Very bad for your concentration.

I mean, a fella could never catch all that clever detail, Pol, not the way you do it.

If you want my opinion, the Echo's very lucky to have a girl like you on its staff.

Now, what we really need is a firsthand account.

Look here, Pol.

There's a matinée tomorrow.

From someone who was working on the spot.

It's at the Palace Theater.

Presumably in touch with the police.

It's with Maud Allan.

But who concentrates on the facts?

Polly, I wondered if you'd care to go with me.

Oh, of course I would, Richard.

Now, when do you go on duty?

Oh, not until 6:00.

That leaves us plenty of time for the matinée, and then I thought afterwards-- Oh, bother the matinée.

When do you go on duty at the mortuary?

The mortuary.

Polly.

6 in the evening.

That will suit me very well.

I want to be able to tell my readers exactly what she looks like, every article of her dress.

They don't want to know all that.

Oh, of course they do, Richard.

They want to know what perfume she uses, -how she did her hair.

-Well, steady on, so far, we don't even know her name.

In that case, Sergeant Frobisher, perhaps the Echo might be able to help you find out.

Oh, bother!

One of my afternoons with Uncle Arthur.

Then you'll never get away.

Oh, but tomorrow, after the matinée, -you could come along.

-Oh, I shall simply have to insist.

You know what he's like.

I have an idea.

Richard.

By the way, does he still eat monkey-nuts?

Furthermore, inasmuch as your unfortunate client has not only placed himself fundamentally on the wrong side of the law.

Double L before the Y, if you please, Polly.

But has demonstrably been driven and driven hard by blind and reckless greed.

Is that a full stop, Uncle Arthur?

Certainly not.

And, Polly, while it may be true that I allowed your mother shamelessly to prevail upon me to employee you as my amanuensis, it is scarcely necessary for you to remind me of our relationship each time you address me.

But, Uncle, I don't-- But me no buts and uncle me no Uncles.

Ah!

Mm.

Now, where was I?

Driven hard by blind and reckless greed.

Precisely.

Never forget, Polly, that in nine cases out of 10, the key to any crime is money.

Try to remember that, if you forget everything else I try to teach you.

Cui bono, isn't that the expression, Sir Arthur?

Who stands to gain?

Precisely what we have here are tricks to make it appear a crime of passion, heartbreak for the dying mother, all utter bunkum!

What they were after was the money!

Am I right?

Beyond question, Sir Arthur.

Mm.

Well, we must hope that this letter frightens old Richardson enough.

We haven't a hope of proving a word of it in court.

But surely, if you know that someone is guilty.

Worthless, my dear Polly.

The law isn't interested in what we know, but in what we can prove.

You mean a guilty person might go free?

If nothing can be proven, of course.

How else can the law work?

Oh, there must be witnesses.

Witnesses can disappear or simply not come forward.

Because they're afraid?

Sometimes.

If a murderer knew you had evidence against him, would not you be afraid, Polly?

Hmm, certainly not.

I intend to report the truth to my readers exactly as the police find it.

Very laudable, my dear.

Ah!

Oriental wine gums, safely hidden from Mrs. Judson's mop by Hallway's Laws of England, Volume Twelve.

[man] Underground mystery!

Who's the lovely lady?

Absolutely bedlam in the chambers since they built that viaduct.

They brought the lady in last night, you know.

There's been quite a crowd to view her body all day.

Ghouls, my dear Polly, ghouls.

The phenomenon of human nature at once deeply rooted and deeply to be deplored.

The secret of success in the legal profession, you see, is a knowledge of psychology.

[man] Underground mystery!

Who's the lovely lady?

Read the whole story!

Oh, I know, Sir Arthur, but they do say that she's the loveliest corpse that Holborn has ever seen.

[man] Underground mystery!

Who's the lovely lady?

[hooves clopping] Could you help us, please?

My sister has disappeared.

And I thought just possibly.

You'd like to view the lady found on the railway.

Yes, if you'll just sign your name, sir, in the register.

Good evening.

Is Sergeant Frobisher.

You're Miss Burton, is it?

Yeah, straight through that door.

Thank you.

Was yesterday the 12th?

[Polly] The 13th.

Oh, hello, Polly.

Have you had a look at her, then?

Yes, I have.

Come sit down.

There must be somebody.

There must be somebody who could tell us who she was, yes.

You might think so, mightn't you?

Thank you, Constable.

70, 80 people walked through there today and gaped at her.

You might think one of them would be able to tell us her name.

Are those her belongings?

Oh, yes.

Have a look for yourself, Pol.

We could do with an inspired womanly guess.

Less of the womanly, Sergeant Frobisher, unless you fancy an inspired clout round the head.

I see.

Had a trying afternoon, have we?

Gloves from Hepton's, shoes from Lilly's of Bond Street.

That man is insufferable, if you really want to know.

All very tasteful and expensive.

What was in her handbag?

What?

Oh, very little of much use to us, smelling salts, loose change, ticket to Aldersgate.

[sniffing] Peppermint.

What do you think these are?

Probably simple cachous.

The analyst has taken a sample, just in case.

In case she took poison, is that the theory?

There were no signs of a struggle.

[Polly sniffing] Lily of the valley.

Her own, I take it.

And this is a man's handkerchief.

Perhaps she borrowed it.

From her husband.

I wonder why.

Initials.

Look.

F.E.

Could your men have missed that?

Better go out there, Sergeant.

A young gentleman has just collapsed.

He seems to have recognized the lady.

Oh, beg your pardon, sir.

Who's he?

What happened?

[Laura] I am Laura Stanley.

Miss Stanley.

The dead woman is my sister, Beatrice.

Chair, Thornton.

Please sit down, Miss Stanley.

You're certain?

I'm sure.

This is Mr. William Hazeldene.

He is my sister's husband.

Hazeldene?

William has been in France on business.

We live in the same house, so naturally I was troubled when Beatrice did not return from her shopping expedition.

This was last night, the 13th?

Yes.

And then I saw the announcement in the newspaper.

It was the cape, the mention of a sable cape lined with blue.

Mr. Hazeldene returned from France this evening?

The boat train was late, you see.

I was very worried because.

We were going to the opera tonight, my wife and I.

They're giving Tristan.

I'm sorry.

I met William at Victoria and showed him the newspaper.

We agreed the best thing to do was to come and see for ourselves.

I think the inquest will be time enough for further questions, Mr. Hazeldene.

Naturally, we do not wish to add to your distress.

But I must ask you to step over and formally identify your wife.

Yes.

Yes, of course, Sergeant.

I cannot grasp it yet.

I cannot fully understand it.

Yes, that is my wife.

Miss Stanley, why did you not come here earlier?

Was it because you were not sure?

I simply lacked the courage.

-Oh.

-What is it, miss?

Frank Errington.

[doors closing] I thought I caught a glimpse of Frank Errington.

Please, excuse us.

[Constable] Certainly.

Come, William.

Frank Errington.

F.E.

[dramatic music] And how long have you been married, Mr. Hazeldene?

[William] More than six years, sir.

Six years.

And how many children do you have?

We have no children.

That must have been distressing for both of you.

Indeed, we'd, I'd always hoped for a child.

And your wife?

She also hoped?

She would have been pleased, naturally.

However, her health was uncertain.

I see.

In what way uncertain, Mr. Hazeldene?

Her heart was never strong.

And a few weeks ago.

[judge] She had a severe bout of influenza, did she not?

She was ill, certainly.

As to severe.

You would not consider it serious, then?

Dr. Jones gave his assurance.

Well, no doubt, her physician will tell us more about that in a moment.

-Good morning, Sergeant.

-But had you any reason.

Does Sir Arthur know you're here?

I'm in bed with inflamed tonsils and a temperature.

Nothing catching, I hope.

And would you describe your marriage as, on the whole, a happy one, Mr. Hazeldene?

Most happy, sir.

I'm wondering, you see, whether you had any reason, however slight, to suspect she might make an attempt on her own life.

I cannot think of such a thing unless.

You see, Beatrice was always the most vivacious, she found life tremendous fun, she had so much laughter in her.

But lately, it sometimes seemed to Laura, to her sister, but also to me that that she'd lost.

But it's my own fault.

I got my partnership this last year.

Sometimes I have to be away from home for several days.

When I came back, I'd find her sitting in the dark, in the drawing room, wrapped into herself, brooding over something or other.

You know of no solid grounds for this distress?

You were not aware of any financial difficulty, for instance?

My wife had independent money of her own.

She was well provided for.

And in your absence, was there no friend to whom she might have turned?

She had her sister, Laura, no friend.

You were away a good deal, it seems.

Was there any acquaintance to whom you might have taken some exception?

I know of no such friend.

Thank you, Mr. Hazeldene.

That will be all for the moment.

That man is lying to save his wife's reputation.

Of course she had a friend, that wild-looking fellow we saw at the mortuary, name of Frank Errington.

That wild-looking fellow's name happens to be James Travis, and he's a rather dotty male nurse.

How do you know?

Routine check, Polly.

It seems every time a pretty girl is brought in, he turns up to gaze at her.

He's quite well-known.

Are you sure that he couldn't have-- Look, he couldn't have had anything to do with it, Polly.

He was on duty that afternoon.

And as Mrs. Hazeldene's personal physician, you assisted the district medical officer in making the postmortem examination?

Yes, sir, I did.

And what conclusion did you reach?

Death was due to failure of the heart, sir, brought about by the administration of a quantity of hydrocyanic acid.

Commonly known as prussic acid, is it not?

In solution, sir, yes.

Peppermints.

When you say a quantity?

Not less than 30 grains, sir, enough to kill at least two or three men.

And in the lady's satchel you found?

Traces of prussic acid, yes, we did.

The tablets that were there?

The tablets contained hydrated magnesium carbonate and oil of mint, sir.

In other words, merely a stomach remedy.

Exactly, sir.

Nevertheless, I take it your opinion is that the lady caused her own death by swallowing this dangerous drug.

Pardon me, sir, but I never suggested such a thing.

Not?

I thought we were to understand-- We have no idea how the drug may have been administered, but it was manifestly not swallowed.

What makes you?

Well, there was not a vestige of it in the stomach.

Thank you, Dr. Jones.

Are there any questions?

Bardwell and Rudge, sir, for Mrs. Hazeldene's estate.

Dr. Jones, surely you must have some idea how the substance was introduced into Mrs. Hazeldene's body.

Well, sir, you may not find this probable in the circumstances, but we think by some sort of injection.

Thank you.

And could that have been given before Mrs. Hazeldene -boarded the train?

-Definitely not.

Death in such cases is absolutely sudden and crushing, a quick convulsion, perhaps, but no more.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you, Dr. Jones.

Could we hear Miss Laura Stanley now?

[voices clamoring] Of course it was murder, Richard.

Polly, don't you think we ought to wait for the coroner's verdict before you leap to conclusions?

Do you suppose that she could have simply sat there in front of half a dozen passengers and-- What about someone committing murder in front of those same passengers?

Now, the least you could do is make a start by looking at that man's handkerchief.

Perhaps we ought to put an advertisement in the Echo.

Shh!

Yes, we were very close.

Beatrice was only two years younger.

As children, we shared everything together.

When Father died, that was almost a year ago, Beatrice insisted I move into her house.

And her husband was more than kind to me there.

[judge] And during the weeks before your sister's death, did you notice a change in her demeanor?

I know that she missed Will very much.

Oh, of course, of course.

Now, perhaps you would tell us something about the last hours in your sister's life.

When Will was abroad, she and I would take breakfast together in the morning room.

We talked of her plans for the day.

We expected him home in a day or two, and Beatrice wanted to look her best.

She was being fitted for a new gown.

They were going to the opera.

She had an appointment with her hairdresser.

[judge] Do you know the address, Miss Stanley?

She goes to Hempler's in St. Paul's Churchyard.

[judge] And at what time did she leave home?

Not until after lunch.

She had meant to go in the morning at first.

[judge] Oh?

And what prevented her?

She received a visit from, well, from a friend of the family.

At any rate, she decided to-- Would you tell us the friend's name?

Yes, I could.

It was Frank Errington.

Mr. Errington.

He was a frequent visitor at your brother-in-laws?

He came often enough to Addison Row.

And how long was his visit on this occasion?

He stayed nearly two hours.

Seems rather a lengthy visit, wouldn't you say?

Not particularly, sir, not for Mr. Errington.

Miss Stanley, am I to gather that you do not much care for Mr. Errington?

I have no feelings about him one way or the other.

If my brother-in-law wasn't worried about his visits, then they certainly were no concern of mine.

Laura, for pity's sake!

So, there was nothing irregular in the gentleman's visiting the house in Mr. Hazeldene's absence?

-Nothing whatever.

-That is all I'm trying to establish, Miss Stanley.

Any questions, gentlemen?

If it please the court.

Miss Stanley, were you present at Mr. Errington's interview with Mrs. Hazeldene that morning?

Yes, I was present.

And was anything said or done that might have a bearing on your sister's death?

Not to my knowledge.

And the purpose of this visit?

Mr. Errington was going on a journey.

He had come to say goodbye.

[Lawyer] Was this to be a journey of some length?

I believe he was going to Ceylon.

-Thank you, Miss Stanley.

-You'll observe, Polly, we are not letting the grass grow under our feet.

Errington's address.

58 Outer Branches.

I'm getting a warrant to search the gentleman's apartment.

About time, too.

I want you to stay here, Polly.

Sergeant Frobisher, you are not to obstruct the freedom of the press.

Now, look here, Polly.

That is, if you wish me to go with you to that matinée.

[voices clamoring] Thoroughly pleasant gentleman is Mr. Errington, sir.

Very sorry we are to see him go.

You don't expect him back, then?

Very sorry, indeed.

Is he moving out for good?

Could always give you a good tip on the horses, could Mr. Errington.

I will say that for him.

Wasn't it a bit sudden of him to rush off to Ceylon at this particular moment?

Ah, now you have hit the nail on the head, young lady, and no mistake.

And there's plenty of us who sympathize with his decision, and let me tell you.

Oh, really?

He has plenty of friends, has Mr. Errington, as you'll soon see.

Lady friends, as well, would you say?

Never a one, sir.

That's my gospel belief.

Well, never one to give any trouble, anyway, until she came along.

Come on, this way.

[lock rattling] Check the other rooms, would you, Thornton?

Man he was, know something about all kinds of things you'd never expect, animal, vegetable, or mineral.

So, she gave him a lot of trouble, did she?

Would not leave him alone, sir, not at any price.

Always running after him, hollering at him, sobbing she couldn't go on without him.

You know, you're quite right about his general knowledge.

[Porter] You could hear it right down in my basement, and that's a sodding fact.

You know, there's a whole section here, Richard, on music, operas, plays, and then this lot seems to be historical, and these seem to be scienti... [Porter] She was a married woman, too, you know.

Never even troubled to take off her ring.

Scandalous if you was to ask me, sir.

I wouldn't stir out of my cubicle in the nighttime to let that one out.

Do you happen to know her name?

Oh, well, I've got my brass work to polish.

Let me know when you're off, and I'll lock up.

Was this the woman?

-Richard!

-Oh.

Here you are.

Would not leave him alone, sir.

Obviously, Errington got tired of her.

Hmm.

Why should he want to kill her?

Why not just for the wickedness?

Richard, come and look at these.

The New Science of Toxicology, three volumes, The Usages of Venomation, Civil and Barbaric, two volumes.

[man] Come and have a look, sir.

The Point Envenomed Too, A History of Poisons.

[man] There's hydrochloric, sir, nitric, sulfuric, enough to launch a chemist's shop.

[Frobisher] Carry on, Hobbs.

Over here.

Have a sniff, Pol.

Bitter almonds.

Isn't it rather peculiar of him to leave all this stuff lying around?

This man enjoys taking risks, Polly.

After all, did he not choose to kill her on a railway train in the middle of the afternoon?

Come on, Thornton.

He could have reached Marseilles by now.

Hobbs?

Richard, do you realize I have the best newspaper story in London?

And you're not printing one word of it, Polly, until we have Frank Errington behind bars.

Sorry.

Ah!

Oh, Uncle Arthur, I must tell you!

We have solved the underground railway case!

-Have you, indeed?

-Well, that is to say that Sergeant Frobisher is well on the way to solving it.

Polly, there is an important client waiting.

We've got an urgent new case on hand.

We've 101 things to do, and you're 14 minutes late.

Oh, Uncle Arthur, please do sit down and listen.

We have been to Errington's apartments.

The porter there tells us that he was carrying on an affair with a married lady, and we found a picture of her there, too.

Next, what do you say to this, in Errington's bathroom, we find shelves full of acids and poisons.

An interesting chain of circumstance.

Pure theory, of course, but interesting.

Well, Sergeant Frobisher thinks it will put a rope around the man's neck.

All we have to do is catch up with him.

This evening, they are to telegraph every port in Europe.

Let us hope the good sergeant is not spending the taxpayers' money in vain.

This eloquent porter, Polly, would you say he's an utterly dependable source?

Well, he is rather an oddity.

You have, no doubt, a really solid witness, one who a passenger, for instance, who witnessed the tragedy?

Well, if there were any such passengers, they seem in no hurry to come forward.

I see, and this poison store you have discovered, people use such materials for many reasons, do they not?

Whether as photographers, gardeners, entomologists?

Yes, but this man has a whole library on poisons.

Ah, he has?

Now, that is of interest.

In that case, you will have no doubt discovered how the poison was administered.

Oh, well, at the moment, we're not quite sure.

Then you will allow me to enlighten you.

By the simplest means, my dear, one known to every scoundrel in southern Europe, by means of a poison ring like this.

Oh, but, Uncle, where did you get this?

I went to look at your lovely lady this afternoon.

You did?

-Mm hm.

-But why?

I found a small mark just above her left wrist, apparently unnoticed by the police surgeon.

It was made by something like that ring.

Oh, but I don't see.

Oh.

What has it to do with you, Sir Arthur?

I've had to be busy.

I told you I've got an urgent new case on hand.

You tell me Sergeant Frobisher is scouring Europe for Frank Errington.

Allow me to present him to you.

Mr. Errington, my niece, Miss Burton.

My dear Mr. Errington read the morning papers as he was about to embark at Southampton.

He was at once convinced he would be arrested, and so he returned to London and very wisely placed himself in my hands.

How do you do?

Sir Arthur, you're not going to take this case, are you?

Most certainly.

I've every intention of representing Mr. Errington, if necessary at the Old Bailey itself.

Now, my dear, would you, like the good girl you are, kindly make us a nice cup of tea?

[dramatic music] [Lawyer] Mr. Hazeldene, to your wife's receiving visits from the prisoner at the bar?

Mr. Errington was one of Beatrice's friends, yes.

And as such, he did visit our house.

Frequently, would you say?

He came fairly often.

And staying late.

Upon occasion.

You knew that, in your absence, he escorted your wife to the theater and elsewhere?

He did.

You must speak up, sir, if you please.

I knew that he did.

What were your feelings on these occasions, sir?

I was happy if my wife could go out sometimes.

Your maid, Emma Watson, has testified that you were often downcast and depressed on discovering such expeditions had occurred.

I think that is a servant's exaggeration.

With some truth in it, perhaps?

I think not.

I put it to you, Mr. Hazeldene, that you were jealous of your wife, as who would not be?

You resented this man squiring her here and there.

Certainly not.

I did not myself care particularly for the gentleman, but I did not think it was for me to criticize my wife's friends.

Thank you, Mr. Hazeldene.

Sir Arthur, do you?

No, thank you, my lord.

You may step down.

Ah, Polly.

I trust your efforts at research were fruitful.

Call Miss Laura Stanley.

Call Miss Laura Stanley!

Curiously strong peppermints, coconut tines, treacle toffees, and old-fashioned humbugs.

Sir Arthur, I have something very important to tell you.

Not now, Polly.

-I managed to find out-- -- Shh!

So that, when Errington called on that last morning of your sister's life, you were present.

I was there, yes.

And heard him tell her that he was leaving for Ceylon at once?

Indeed.

And how did this news affect your sister?

- Well, she warned him if he persisted in going, she would cause him to regret it.

Now, Miss Stanley, I ask you to be most careful.

Are you certain those were her words?

She spoke very low, but yes.

She was not looking at him, but at a picture that hangs in the morning room, a copy of Mr. Ford Maddox Brown's painting, The Last of England.

Perhaps you know it.

It is a picture of a young man and woman sailing away together to a new continent, is it not?

Yes, it is.

And what do you think was in your sister's mind as she was looking at the picture, Miss Stanley?

[throat clearing] I will withdraw that question.

She wanted him to take her with him.

-My lord!

-No further questions.

Jury will disregard both the final question and its answer.

Sir Arthur?

Miss Stanley, you tell us your sister warned Mr. Errington against leaving the country.

Yes, that is right.

What could she have possibly meant by that?

She had loaned him a good deal of money.

I took it she meant to insist on being repaid.

In other words, it was a threat.

I would say so.

I see.

And then did this Mr. Errington turn on her, did he cry out he would murder her if she dared to threaten him, or what?

Oh, my lord, I do protest against these histrionics.

You must restrain your flights of fancy, Sir Arthur.

Indeed, my lord.

What, Miss Stanley, was Mr. Errington's reaction?

He didn't say anything.

He just bowed and left the house.

Did he look furiously angry?

He was taken aback a little, I think.

Well, as you must have been, yourself, by your sister's vehemence.

I.

Well, after all, to mutter threats at an old friend.

-It was quite-- -With her back to him.

-It was quite-- -Looking at a picture.

It was quite out of her character.

And must have made a strong impression upon you.

Yes.

Yes, I suppose I was quite alarmed.

Indeed.

And yet, only 48 hours later, you were asked at the inquest to think carefully whether or not anything had happened at that interview which might be of importance, and you replied, nothing.

To the best of my knowledge, nothing whatever.

Well, naturally, it never occurred to me that-- What?

That Mr. Errington could be capable of murder?

Never, but-- In fact, it was altogether against his character, -was it not?

-Yes, but I-- No further questions, my lord.

-But.

-The witness may answer.

I was only going to say that I did not know about his interest in poisons.

One moment, my lord!

Could we examine exhibit five, I think it is, the volume on poisons?

Miss Stanley, I do thank you for reminding me.

The New Science of Toxicology.

Miss Stanley, do you know this work?

Yes.

Barbaric and Civil Usages [chuckling].

There are penciled initials on the flyleaf, G.L.S.

Do you know whose they are?

May I see the book?

By all means.

Well, Miss Stanley?

This was one of my father's books.

In fact, several of them are his, Miss Stanley.

I had no idea.

Nor of how they came into Mr. Errington's hands?

None.

And yet, much has been made of Mr. Errington's interest in poisons, even though, to my mind, his explanation of those items is more than satisfactory.

He is a geologist.

Is it not for that very pursuit he was visiting Ceylon?

My lord, really.

You must not make speeches, Sir Arthur, as you know perfectly well.

Your lordship is, as always, my tutor.

No further questions, my lord.

Call Mr. Andrew Campbell.

-Call Mr. Andrew Campbell!

-Who the devil?

It seems this witness has just come forward, Sir Arthur.

But I know of no such.

This is your solid witness.

He was on the train.

[Lawyer] What position do you hold, Mr. Campbell?

[Campbell] I am managing director of of Mincing Lane.

[Lawyer] And your company's function?

We consider ourselves the stockbroker's broker.

Just so.

Now, on the afternoon of Tuesday, March the 13th, were you in a first-class compartment of a train on the Metropolitan Railway?

Yes, sir, I was.

Was Beatrice Hazeldene a passenger in that same compartment, Mr. Campbell?

Yes, sir.

I believe I must have witnessed the whole affair.

Oh, I must get a message to the to the Echo.

You're not sitting in the press seats, Polly.

You're here as my assistant.

Oh, but, Sir Arthur, please.

Sit down, Polly.

Have some treacle toffee.

You were aware of Mrs. Hazeldene, you say.

Was she alone?

She was undoubtedly alone when she boarded the train, but just as we were pulling out, a man got into the carriage.

She seemed to know him well.

They talked and laughed a little as the train moved on.

Well, could you describe this man for us?

Certainly.

He was of medium height, neither fair nor particularly dark.

He wore a tweed suit and a bowler hat.

Mr. Campbell, would you know him again?

Beyond question.

He is that man in the dock.

[Frobisher] Feel quite sorry for Sir Arthur.

It's not like him to back a loser, is it?

Of course, we still have to hear his cross-examination.

Though from the way he flung out of court.

It's open and shut, Polly.

Your man provided the means.

The sister provided the motive.

Mm.

She did, didn't she?

Your dinner's getting cold, Polly.

Richard, you don't think -that she could-- -Besides, we've heard Errington, he doesn't offer the trace of an alibi.

He just says he left the house and wandered around Kensington Park.

Nobody saw him.

Nobody knows positively where he was for hours.

True enough.

-But still.

-Then again, look at the clues.

Richard, don't you think there are too many clues?

I mean, pots of poison, a handkerchief, If he is guilty, he must be the most careless criminal there ever was.

Precisely, Polly.

I'm glad you see it at last.

Sergeant Frobisher, do you think it seemly for a prosecution witness to be lunching with assistant counsel for the defense?

I'm just a policeman, Sir Arthur, behaving helpfully to a gentleman of the press.

Then be so good as to fetch me a cup of coffee.

Oh.

Very well, sir.

And while you're up, perhaps just the smallest portion of baked jam roll.

Now, Polly, my clerk has procured this from Covent Garden.

It's an advertisement for the current season.

Could you use your young eyes to tell me what piece was given on the 14th of March?

On the 14th of March.

It's a Wednesday.

There was no performance that night.

Indeed!

Now, that is of interest, is it not?

Now, if only this could be delivered.

Oh, I shall take care of it, of course.

That is kind, my niece, but I don't think I could ask that of you.

Sir Arthur, if I am to help Mr. Errington in any way at all, I think you should trust me to.

Even if it were to bring you face-to-face with the real murderer?

Consider, Polly.

You mean I might actually get an interview?

Possibly a very dangerous interview.

Never mind that.

Just give me the envelope.

Ah!

Thank you, sir.

Well, Sir Arthur, it'll be interesting to see how you refute this latest witness.

Ah, yes, the stockbroker's broker.

Mm.

Mm.

We are all deeply indebted to you, Mr. Campbell, for having come forward, even at this 11th hour, to tell us of that astonishing journey on the underground railway.

To have in court a witness to the act of murder, that is indeed a privilege given to few of us in this imperfect world.

You are to be congratulated.

Not at all.

Mr. Campbell, you have described to us with care the impression made upon you by this exquisite woman.

Make us richer still.

Give us some idea what she was wearing.

-Wearing, sir?

-Yes, wearing.

Oh, I am no connoisseur of frills.

Give just a hint as to her style of dress.

The color, for example.

She wore green for the most part.

Forest dark, rich and heavy, or paler than grass, light as air?

Velvet, it would be, and a heavy velvet hat.

With plumes or without?

Yes, plumes, one of those bird hats.

A cape, dolman or pelisse, Eastern or Western in inspiration?

Oh, a long wrap of some kind.

Still in green?

Yes, bright green.

A tunic, a suiting, could you see the lady's neck?

-A blouse?

-No, I could not.

Jewelry?

-Yes.

-Ah.

A rather beautiful pendant, some bracelets.

So, on that terrible day, could we see exhibit 15, please?

Mrs. Hazeldene was wearing, you vividly remember, a dark green velvet dress with jewelry and a plumed hat.

That was it, yes.

My lord, with your permission, these are the very clothes the lady was actually wearing on that occasion.

Do you still see this as green, Mr. Campbell?

[Campbell] Not in this light, I admit.

[Arthur] Is this hat in this, or any other light, a heavy velvet hat with plumes?

[Campbell] It must have been the brooch.

[Arthur] That you mistook for the hat, perhaps, or that appeared to be a pendant and a few bracelets?

I told you I am no connoisseur.

It was by no means that easy to distinguish the.

No, no, please continue.

It was very smoky, you know, and I was reading my newspaper.

Frankly, I do not gawp at people in trains like some Peeping Tom.

Yet you gawped at Mr. Errington, it seems.

You peeped at the prisoner, did you not?

And yet the lady sitting opposite you was not easy to see in the smoke.

You were not able to recollect a single article of her attire, and yet you dare swear, under your oath, that the man sitting to your right and therefore only seen out of the corner of your eye, and in the same dark and smoke is none other than the man before you in the dock!

I ask you again, Mr. Campbell, of Campbell and Swanson, can you be certain upon your oath?

It looked like him.

-The newspaper said-- -The newspaper said a man had been apprehended.

And you assumed it must have been the man you saw.

Perhaps.

I'm not certain.

Thank you, Mr. Campbell.

[judge] The witness is excused.

My lord, even as my learned friends saw fit to spring upon us this last witness, so I, may it please the court, have prepared a small surprise.

This envelope contains an essential piece of evidence.

But it is late already.

Perhaps an adjournment may be in order so that the prosecution may not be, as I was, met with ground quite unprepared.

[judge] I will gladly adjourn the court until tomorrow morning.

[voices clamoring] [thunder rumbling] Poor old Campbell.

He was only trying to tell us what he saw.

Thought he saw.

There is such a thing as being too certain, isn't there?

Still, even without his evidence, we still have a pretty strong case, don't you think?

Oh.

Thank you, Richard, for coming this far.

I must write up my notes as soon as I get home.

You might care to know that whichever way it goes, I still get my inspector's course.

Oh.

Oh, you deserve it, Richard.

I am happy for you.

Look, Polly, are you sure you don't want me to come -with you on the train?

-No, thank you, Sergeant.

I can take care of myself.

Are you sure, Polly?

I know what I wanted to tell you.

They liked my story on the Echo.

On Monday, I start a trial assignment to the crime column.

Does that mean we'll be seeing more of each other?

Well, I hope so.

-[tires screeching] -Ah.

Don't wait.

Goodbye, Richard.

Now, look here, Polly, I... Good night.

[whistle blowing] Oh.

What are you doing here?

Miss Burton, is it not?

Assistant to the redoubtable Sir Arthur.

This is my usual journey home to West Kensington.

I had the impression that you left the Old Bailey in a hansom with your sister.

Indeed, we did.

But I dropped off.

I trust Sir Arthur noticed the cab, also.

I must say, I found his presentation of poor Frank's case quite astonishing.

His cross-examination in particular is quite lethal, is it not?

Sir Arthur certainly knows how to demolish a lie.

One must never underestimate a clever lawyer.

I must say, if I were ever in the dark.

[whistle blowing] It makes one rather curious as to the rabbit he's to pull out of tomorrow's hat.

Errington's complicity seems clear enough on the face of it.

Not entirely ethical, I suppose, but... Opera tickets?

Your servant recovered them from the wastepaper basket.

Unluckily, Mr. Hazeldene, there was no performance the night you returned home.

Your tickets were for the previous night.

And Mr. Campbell remembered that passenger saying, "Don't be late this evening."

It could have only been you, couldn't it?

You killed your own wife.

How could you?

She was an ill woman, Miss Burton.

The postmortem was bungled.

It could only have been a matter of months, then I would have come into her property.

Cui bono, who stands to gain?

[William] I beg your pardon?

An expression of Sir Arthur's.

It was Beatrice's father who set you up in business, -wasn't it?

-Yes.

I was a shipping clerk when I met her.

I didn't have a penny.

I see.

And your company got into difficulties?

Yes.

Surely, you could have asked your wife.

Beatrice had little faith in my business acumen.

[whistle blowing] I see.

And her sister?

Ah, Laura.

She understands me.

Enough to lie for you, apparently.

She told the police that you arrived home-- Such a waste, really, lending Frank those books.

That you arrived home the following night.

Studying his build, carriage, so as to suggest to a stranger that...

But Sir Arthur has rather dented that alibi of mine.

I have to find another.

You must see that, Miss Burton.

It's no use threatening me, you know.

Sir Arthur guesses the truth.

But without these, will not be able to prove it.

Besides, when another body is discovered on the railway, would it not seem that a new Jack the Ripper is abroad?

Once more, attention will be diverted from the bereaved widower, at least until I can claim my inheritance and set my affairs in order.

You'll feel nothing, Miss Burton.

My poor Beatrice suffered not at all.

I do promise you that.

Now, if you'll simply give me your hand.

[whistle blowing] [brakes squealing] [Frobisher] Polly!

-For God's sake!

-Where the devil is the girl?

Oh, here she is.

First-rate, isn't it [laughing]?

Exactly as I conceived it on the basis of my hypothesis.

Sir Arthur, if you will stand aside, my men can attend to their work.

Yeah, he's quite dead, of course.

Oh, Richard.

Sir Arthur, did you know that man might attempt to Kill Polly?

To know is one thing, but to be able to prove it, Sergeant... [chuckling] Besides, she's a resourceful girl.

I ought to put you under arrest.

Oh, Sergeant.

About your proposal earlier this evening.

About my what?

One cannot help admiring the cheek of the man, don't you agree?

Oh, of course it helped him no end.

Errington tried to leave the country.

As I've always said, Polly, a knowledge of basic human behavior is essential, indispensable to the legal mind.

[dramatic music]