[upbeat music] [dog barking] [flame hisses] [metal clanks] [dog barking] [metal clanks] [Phelps gasping] [Joe laughing] [lively dramatic music] [slides clicking] [Narrator] In late Victorian times there lived many detectives, The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes.

Now, let us recapitulate, Lord Semptam.

The figurine was of great value.

-Priceless.

-After you examined it, you placed it on the table.

Um.

Ah, here.

There was no one else in the house.

Now, let me see.

Oh, dear, the, oh, the servants?

Have all been satisfactorily accounted for.

The outside doors were bolted.

-The doors, Colonel.

-Eh?

Oh, yes, Monsieur Valmont.

Now, where's my pipe- It was priceless, yet you placed it on the table and simply went to bed?

-My dear Valmont- -Hopeless, hopeless fellow.

Well, I left it somewhere.

-And it has vanished.

-Utterly.

No, the figurine, Colonel.

Eh?

Oh, yes, yes, utterly.

Searched the house.

Bought that pipe in Calcutta.

[speaking in foreign language] Now, let me see.

Let me see.

Our dear friend placed the figurine on the table here.

Perhaps a question occurred to him.

Shall we say the ceramic composition of early Cretan figurines?

Oui, he goes to the appropriate bookshelf, perhaps here, and selects an appropriate volume.

Ah, here we are.

Oh.

Lord Semptam.

Hmm?

[chuckles] Ooh!

[chuckles] Bless my soul.

-Oh, look.

[laughs] -You see, you did not put it on the table, you put it on the bookshelf, and when you replaced the book, you simply pushed it to the back, huh?

You know, I really cannot remember.

Well, never mind, Semptam.

[chuckles] It did take France's greatest detective to- No, no, Colonel, not detective.

Shall we say her greatest amateur of detection, huh?

Ah, well, I wish you would find my pipe, -eh, Semptam?

[chuckles] -Find your pipe.

-I still think it's somewhere.

-Yes, Semptam, yes.

-Voila!

-[all chuckling] Well, I don't know how to thank you.

No, no, no, no, no.

Your excellent dinner was thanks enough.

-No, Semptam.

-Huh?

-Oh!

-Sir?

Yes?

Ah, those are for Valmont.

It's for me?

Oh, merci, merci, excuse me.

[men chattering] [Newsboy] Paper!

Paper!

Oh, I regret I must leave you.

Ah.

Something urgent?

-Oui.

-Urgent?

Urgent?

Oh, please forgive me, gentlemen.

Marsh will look after you.

Not you, Semptam.

It's Monsieur Valmont who's wanted.

A telephone message, Inspector Hale of Scotland Yard- -Paper!

Paper!

-is waiting for me.

-Newspaper!

-No, no, Marsh, thank you.

-In this fog?

Oh!

-Paper!

-Paper!

-It is quicker to walk, eh?

-Good night.

-Good night, sir.

-Paper!

Paper!

-Oh, boy?

[door slams] [Newsboy] New American president.

Read all about it, governor.

Oui, there we are.

Merci.

[Paperboy] Paper!

Paper!

Read all about it!

Paper, paper!

[woman coughs] -Madame.

-[knocker knocking] Oh, pardon, mademoiselle.

[chuckles] Permit me.

-[knocker knocking] -Thank you.

It seems we have a common acquaintance, Lord Semptam, eh, eh?

Oh, well.

Oh!

[speaking in foreign language] Oh, my dear Hale, you are a brave man to venture out in this fog.

Can't raise a fog like this in Paris, Monsieur Valmont.

No, in that, at least, you are supreme.

Phelps, some drinks.

I have yours ready, sir.

Oh, do sit down.

Well, it is surely an important thing that brings you here, huh?

The fog must be very thick in Scotland Yard, huh?

You're a very clever man, Monsieur Valmont.

No, no, no, please.

If I permitted compliments, it would take up too much time, hmm?

You need my poor brain.

Been reading the news, Valmont?

Have you braved the fog to discuss with me the fact that Major McKinley has been elected President of the United States, huh?

That is why I'm here.

Well?

Well, you want my help, and you give me a riddle.

Anyone else, I'd be more explicit, but seeing that you are Eugene Valmont, I wonder if I need add anything to this.

Oh.

Have they eluded you?

[Hale] Who?

[Valmont] The coiners.

[chuckles] That was just a lucky shot.

[Valmont speaking in foreign language] It was, now.

Own up.

How can I contradict a guest?

Oh?

Five shilling pieces?

Ah.

Very good.

[coin clinking] Excellent.

We have a craftsman here.

[Hale] A real artist, I'd say.

Now, come on, Valmont.

How did you know?

Major McKinley was elected President of the United States because of the terrible slump on Wall Street, huh?

Which was caused by the heavy fall in the price of silver.

Was not that the clue you gave me?

I sent a mind reader to jail last week.

[chuckles] You know, these are not forgeries of base metal.

They are real silver.

Right, so you can't detect them even by the acid test.

No, no, only a slight disparity in the number of ridges tells me they are not from Her Majesty's Royal Mint.

Right again, these fellows are buying up silver dirt cheap and turning out the spitting image of real five-shilling pieces and making 100% profit -on each one.

-Ooh!

-[coin clinking] -Ingenious people.

Mm, I haven't a trace of them, except the name of the fellow who's shoving them.

What?

Oh, putting them into circulation.

You might ask why we don't arrest him.

Oh, my dear inspector, he alone can lead you to the rest of the gang, huh?

Who is he?

A Mr. Ralphe Summertrees, and he lives in no less a fashionable street than Park Lane.

We've been onto him for about six weeks.

He's not married.

He lives alone with a housekeeper, a butler, a valet, oh, and a French cook.

And now let us pray.

When the wicked turneth away from wickedness and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save his soul alive.

Oh, a French cook.

This case does interest me.

Then you'll help us?

I shall need more coin specimens, dates and locations of recovery, and all the information you have about Summertrees and his household.

It's all at the Yard.

Phelps, a coach and a cab at once, please.

-Yes, sir.

-You know, I suspect Mr. Summertrees is worthy of my attention.

[air whooshes] Ha, ha, hey!

[door squeaks] You heard something?

Come in, Podgers.

Clear up that mess, will you?

Yes, sir.

Do you know what this is?

No, sir.

A yataghan, once used by Turkish executioners.

[air whooshes] Yes, sir.

Oh, Podgers.

Sir?

I beg your pardon, sir?

The safe, man.

Open it.

The safe?

There's only one safe in this room.

I'm sure you've long been curious as to its contents.

-Oh, no, sir, I wouldn't- -How odd.

You know, if I were a butler, I should long to know such things, come.

I want the safe emptied.

-Nothing else?

-No, sir.

Well, don't go, Podgers.

You can be of assistance to me.

[coins clattering] You will count this for me.

So the coining plant is not in Summertrees' house.

I know.

Your man has searched it.

-My man?

-The worthy Podgers, huh?

The housekeeper is female, the cook is French, and as between the butler and the valet- Lucky guesswork that's your secret.

[chuckles] You have seen through me, huh?

Why did you first suspect Summertrees?

Ah, his luxurious mode of living, and we are satisfied no visible source of income.

He calls himself an author.

Oh, he makes no money from it.

Yet he locks himself up in his study, day after day, writing.

All day?

He even makes his own lunch in there on a spirit stove.

In other words, he is invisible all day.

Oh, he has a fancy French meal in the evening.

[laughs] Sensible man, eh?

Then he goes to bed, and that's his life.

Except that he goes to the bank every day and deposits a great deal of money.

And all in coin, all in coin.

Which you have examined.

[Hale] Sergeant Carew?

Yes, sir, I go through every consignment.

First-class fellow.

And you have repeatedly found forged coins, huh?

Yes, sir.

The bank's damned sticky about it.

Breach of confidence.

This isn't France, you know.

How is the money brought to Summertrees' house?

Man by the name of Simpson, elderly chap, runs a curiosity shop in Tottenham Court Road, stays over night.

At the house every night?

[Hale] Yes, then he goes back to his shop in the morning, where he spends the day.

Mm.

Could the coining plant be there?

We don't know.

And if we raid it, well, we might scare the whole gang off.

[Valmont speaking in foreign language] I was wondering if you could get in the shop for us.

Unofficially?

Oh, unofficially, of course.

No wonder the British Empire is painted red on the map.

It is blushing.

Mm.

I shall search the house, too.

I've told you there's nothing there.

So says Podgers, but he is not an unscrupulous froggy.

Will you bring Podgers to me tomorrow?

Very well.

This Summertrees is an extremely clever man.

We must hope that he is not also dangerous, huh?

Do the totals agree?

Yes, sir.

Good.

You'll take it to the bank for me tomorrow.

The bank, sir?

[Summertrees] Why so surprised, Podgers?

A good servant should be trusted.

Oh, yes, sir, I'm sure- [Summertrees] And loyalty is something I always reward.

Oh, oh!

[chuckles] Bonjour, Madame.

Bonjour, monsieur.

[Valmont speaking in foreign language] [shop assistant speaking in foreign language] [Valmont speaking in foreign language] [shop assistant speaking in foreign language] [chuckles] I could not live a day without them.

[shop assistant speaking in foreign language] Oh, merci, madame.

Mm, mm, mm.

Oh, delicious.

[groans] [people faintly speaking] -[door clicks] -[woman coughing] Good morning.

Are my Florentines ready, please?

Yes, mademoiselle.

[speaking in foreign language] -Mademoiselle.

-[woman coughing] Uh, now I know that prayers are answered.

I beg your pardon.

Oh, you do not remember, oh, oh, but we have more in common than Madame's delicious Florentines.

Is it your habit to accost strange ladies?

I would not dream of it, especially in London, but we have met before.

Oh, you are mistaken.

No, no, no, no, no.

You are the mysterious young lady who emerged from the fog, a durable fog, outside Lord Semptam's house, oui?

Oh.

Mysterious?

Well, confidentially, I was mystified to know why such a charming young lady would be calling upon so confirmed an old bachelor as Lord Semptam.

[chuckles] -Voila, mademoiselle.

-Ah.

Thank you.

Ah.

You share my weakness.

Nowhere else in London can one obtain such exquisite Florentine, don't you think?

-Excuse me.

-Ah, but now that you know I am not an improper gentlemen, won't you join me in a cup of madame's perfect coffee, hmm?

[Assistant] Here are your Florentine, monsieur.

[speaking in foreign language] Pardon.

Merci, Madame.

[speaking in foreign language] [shop assistant speaking in foreign language] [speaking in foreign language] Mademoiselle!

[door thuds] Mademoiselle?

[groans] Unspeakable fog.

Madame, may I see the coin the young lady left?

-These, monsieur?

-Oui.

Voila.

[Assistant] But, monsieur- A souvenir, huh?

That is carrying [speaking in foreign language] a little too far.

Mm.

Ah, good morning, Hale.

-Monsieur Valmont.

-Bonjour.

-My man.

-Podgers.

-Podgers.

-Podgers, good morning, Podgers, do sit down, both of you.

Oh, Podgers, you're out of breath.

Have you been chasing some miscreant, huh?

I had to rush from the bank, sir.

The master sent me there with his money.

He did?

Ah, a truly artistic touch.

I must say you look every inch the butler, Podgers.

-Thank you, sir.

-We know a bit over here, -Monsieur Valmont.

-Yeah.

Now, Podgers, I want to ask you some things.

You're a sharp, observant man.

What strikes you as unusual in that house?

Well, sir, Mr. Summertrees do stick to his writing pretty close.

Hard at it from, what, till 7:00 at night, say?

-Yes, sir.

-Anything else?

[Podgers] Well, sir, he is one for reading the newspapers, sir.

Oh, which newspapers?

All of them, sir, the morning papers are put out for him every morning and evening papers as they come, and he takes them all upstairs to his study.

Striking fact.

Ah.

You've reported this to your chief, of course.

-No, sir.

-But it is vital- Oh, come, now.

Everyone reads the papers.

All of them?

-Well.

-No!

What happens when he has finished with them?

I take them down to the cellar for burning, sir.

Then you can safely remove one day's supply and deliver them to me, eh?

[speaking in foreign language] Now, I want to ask you about this clerk, this Simpson.

What time does he arrive at the house?

Prompt at 6:00, sir.

[Valmont] Does he ring or let himself in?

He has a door key, sir.

[Valmont] How does he carry the money'?

[Podgers] In a locked leather bag, sir, chained to his wrist.

He takes it upstairs and gives it to Mr. Summertrees.

[Valmont] You mean he hands it to him?

[Podgers] He leaves it outside the door and knocks.

You see, Mr. Summertrees mustn't be disturbed.

-Oh.

-Oh, it might drive away his inspiration quite, and?

[Podgers] Simpson goes upstairs to his room.

[Valmont] Which is on the next floor?

[Podgers] Yes, sir, just above the study.

[Valmont] I understand.

Where do you and the other servants sleep?

On the fourth floor, sir.

No doubt Mr. Summertrees is so wrapped up in his work that he does not bring the money into the room right away, huh?

Not for awhile, sir, on the few occasions I've been able to observe.

As much as half an hour?

Oui.

Does the clerk ever dine with his master?

No, sir, Simpson he doesn't eat in the house at all.

Oh, he has no breakfast, yet he stays till- 10:00 a.m., sir.

And his master has breakfast at- 9:30 a.m, sir.

And after breakfast?

The master locks himself in the study, sir.

-At?

-9:30 a.m., sir.

Oh, these recurring half-hours.

And he stays there all day, never rings -nor asks for anything?

-No.

Well, Hale, the case is perfectly plain.

What's perfectly plain?

Summertrees is no coiner, nor is he linked with any bank of coiners.

Well, damnation.

Well, what is he, then?

Oh, well, that will open another line of inquiry.

He may well be the most honest of men who wishes to hide the connection with his shop because he lives among the aristocrats of Park Lane, no?

What rot, he's not married, lives alone, belongs to no clubs, never goes anywhere, never entertains.

He's got nothing to be ashamed about.

Well argued.

All this, and you tell us nothing.

Au contraire, I have told you he is no coiner.

Well, I know you say he isn't.

It is the same thing.

[Hale chuckles] Of all the conceited- Do you want my assistance?

Your assistance- Then you, Podgers, will take me to the Summertrees house now.

Now?

Now.

But Summertrees is there.

[Valmont] I assure you he will not know.

You must be mad, Valmont.

Not without method.

I'll be hung, drawn, and quartered if you're caught.

If I am caught, Inspector Hale, you may arrest me yourself.

I shall truly deserve it.

[trumpet buzzes] -Summertrees' study.

-Shh.

Yes, yes, yes.

His servants?

All out except the housekeeper downstairs ironing.

Bon.

The clerk's bedroom.

Bon.

[door thuds] [Valmont counting in foreign language] -Shh.

-Don't shush me.

I suppose you think I'll clean the silver.

You know he mustn't be disturbed.

Then I shan't hang about.

Where are you going?

To Mr. Simpson's bedroom.

You can't.

Can't, Mr. Podgers?

The door's stuck.

Then I shall open it.

Kindly stand aside, Mr. Podgers.

[hand thumping] Now look what you've done.

Oh.

Sorry, Mr. Summertrees.

[door creaking] Sir.

-She's gone?

-Well, I'll be blowed.

Come on.

[door creaks] But I heard.

You heard me searching the room and opening the safe, which, as you see, is empty, voila.

Uh-huh.

Now.

[speaking in foreign language] A secret staircase.

Come.

You've been tiptoeing past an empty room -for two weeks, you know.

-But, but where's- Come along.

Be careful.

It is steep.

Now, close the door.

[door thuds] [speaking in foreign language] Voila and now.

[door thuds] But, but Summertrees.

Oh, he will come back.

And so, I daresay, will Mr. Simpson.

[door clicks] Good afternoon.

Good afternoon, sir.

Can I help you?

No, no, thank you.

I would just like to browse, you know?

Oh, carry on, sir.

Carry on.

Merci.

[Rogers] Hello, Mr. Simpson.

[Mr. Simpson] Good morning, Rogers.

[coins clinking] [Rogers] I'll see you tomorrow, then, Mr. Simpson.

Uh, how much is this crucifix?

Seven and sixpence, sir.

Ah, seven and six.

I will take it.

[speaking in foreign language] Here is a sovereign.

Thank you, sir.

One sovereign.

[coins clinking] That's right, seven and six, 10, one, par.

-Merci.

-[door thuds] Shan't be long, Tyrrell.

Oh, no, please, please go ahead.

Oh, thank you, sir.

-Excuse me.

-Bon.

[Mr. Simpson] Whew!

[coins clinking] It's rather a pretty little picture, oui.

Oh-oh.

[groans] [Valmont sighs] See you tomorrow.

Oh, I say.

[chuckles] Uh, this is rather nice.

Hmm.

Oh, yes, sir.

It's a real bargain at five shillings.

Five shillings?

Let me see, oh.

-[bell dinging] -Milady.

There we are.

Uh-oh.

A five-shilling piece exactly.

Shall I wrap your purchases, sir?

No, no, don't bother.

Thank you so much.

-Excuse me, sir.

-Bien.

[coins clinking] Good afternoon.

[bell rings] [door thuds] [Valmont humming] So, hmm, there are no dud coins at the shop?

No.

Simpson took my forged five-shilling piece without a murmur and gave me a perfectly genuine coin in exchange for my sovereign.

-Mm.

-Mm-hmm.

To your satisfaction?

Mm.

Very nice.

[Valmont speaking in foreign language] Mm.

Nice, tender rabbit.

It's frog.

Frog fritters.

A little effort of mine while Phelps is out on business.

-Help yourself.

-Well, I should- I'm so glad you like them.

You know, I could not work with a man who did not appreciate my cooking, uh-huh.

So this shop must be a collecting depot.

[Valmont] Oh, oui, but for whom?

The coiners.

Oh, Hale, Hale, you are incorrigible, you know.

Do try the Puligny-Montrachet.

It's absolutely divine.

[Hale] But Simpson- [Valmont] Simpson and Summertrees are the same man.

Simpson goes into the bedroom.

He takes off his hat.

He takes off his coat.

He removes his disguise, and Summertrees comes out of the study, and vice versa, beautiful.

The scoundrel.

He must be a criminal.

But not a coiner.

Well, what, then?

During my labors in the kitchen, you had time to examine those papers that Podgers sent, hmm?

Deuced if I could find anything.

Ah, you were distracted, no doubt, by the delicious odor of my frogs, huh?

Bon.

Now I will show.

All these papers have similar advertisements signed by the same name, this name.

Mm.

"Absent-mindedness a curse and its cure.

Restore your memory.

Write to: Doctor Willoughby."

Damnation!

Exactly, at the address of the curio shop in Tottenham Court Road.

And here is the pamphlet that Simpson was sending out.

A cure for absent-mindedness?

Well, well, what does it all mean?

You still do not know, huh?

Well, no.

[speaking in foreign language] I wonder what made Britain great.

[clicks] I will proceed.

[speaking in foreign language] Now, look.

I shall write.

"Dear Dr. Willoughby, I am a very absent-minded man, and I would be glad of your pamphlet."

Bon, "My handicap is a great failing because I collect," oh, uh, "first editions."

-First editions?

-Why not?

"Yours faithfully," who shall I be for a change, huh?

I know.

"Alport Webster."

-Alport Webster?

-Oui.

-I'll be off now, guv.

-[keys jingling] [Fred] Save some of that champagne for us.

[Fred coughing] Why did you get me here?

Well, Lord Semptam's library is always worth a visit, especially to an amateur of art like myself.

-Now, look here, Valmont- -For instance, the rare and fascination art of cameo cutting, medallion engraving, the design of ancient coins.

Damn your art books.

You'd be better reading this.

Carew's been found in the river, murdered.

My best man, and as nice a chap as you could hope to meet.

I know.

I have seen it.

I am not playing games with you, Mr. Hale.

I promise you will get your man.

I promise.

Now, look.

-Map of London?

-Oui.

The dots represent all the places where forged coins have been recovered.

-But you will observe- -The one area where none have been found.

Good for you, Hale.

[doorknob rattling] [Phelps gasping] [Joe laughing] Don't kill him.

Not yet.

[clock ticking] [chimes ringing] How fortunate that the artists of London have made Chelsea their quarter.

So close to the river.

Well, who sent you?

[Phelps groaning] Do you know why he doesn't talk, Joe?

He wants to go on modeling.

It is the greatest moment of this guttersnipe's life, -to be my model.

-[Joe laughing] Talk, you scum!

[knuckles rapping] It's Fred.

You've got the silver?

Who is he?

That is what we must, at all costs, find out.

I'll make him talk.

Perhaps, Fred, but wait a moment.

I want to know who sent you.

Gah, best kill him right off.

No.

We must know if anyone is onto us.

Watch him talk.

You must find Inspector Hale, you understand?

Oui, and give him my message.

[Phelps yells] [Phelps moaning] [door thuds] [door thuds] -Aah, aah, aah.

-Phelps!

[all screaming] [Joe whimpering] Sixpence if you'll hurry!

It's life or death!

Aye, it's life and death for my horse if he breaks his leg.

[laughs] A shilling, damn you.

Governor, you don't understand.

I love this horse.

I love this horse like a brother.

-Half a crown.

-[hooves clopping] -Get up, there!

Get up!

-[horse neighs] Keep still, you cur.

That, I believe, was the appellation with which you favored me, sir.

That will do, Phelps.

Go and make yourself look more like a gentleman's gentleman.

Yes, sir.

How did you do it?

Inspector Hale remarked that the coins were the work of a real artist.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, I know that coining of such quality demands the art of a highly skilled medallion engraver.

My friend, I am a genius.

You know, I'm inclined to agree with you.

The world owes me something.

And you took it.

How understandable.

Valmont, Phelps.

Oh!

I see I needn't have hurried.

-Voila.

-Ah!

Uh-huh, and here are your coiners and your murderers, Inspector.

[Hale] Right.

Take them.

-Come on.

-[Joe grunting] Alas, dear friend, with me, even art does not come before justice.

Off With him.

Well, Valmont [chuckles] the case is closed.

On the contrary.

There is still Mr. Summertrees.

But you said he was innocent.

No, no, I said he was no coiner.

Well, why do we want him, then?

Because he is a criminal more subtle, more audacious, more devilishly ingenious than any I have ever known.

[upbeat piano playing] [Valmont sighs] [Valmont moans] [lively piano music] Oh.

[speaking in foreign language].

Yes, yes, I'm in.

Step this way, please.

[piano hums] Miss Mackail?

Yes.

Oh, but, but how remiss of me to, please sit down.

Thank you.

May I know how you found me?

Found you, Mr. Webster?

Mr. Webster?

Ah, yes, of course!

You are Mr. Alport Webster, are you not?

My name is on the door, is it not?

[laughs] I must confess myself astonished that Mr. Webster- Is none other than the gentleman who, with the purest of intentions, offered you a cup of coffee?

[both chuckling] Shall I admit that I, too, am astonished, hmm?

Ah, [speaking in foreign language].

A Florentine.

Thank you.

I cannot resist them.

I know.

I know.

[chuckles] And, now, Miss Mackail, in what can I serve you?

Are you at all interested in first editions, Mr. Webster?

Oh, oh, first editions, the one thing I am interested in.

What do you think of this?

Oh.

Dr. Johnson's "Rasselas."

Oh, but this must be worth every penny of 25 pounds.

It has been valued at 30.

-Yes?

-But if you wished, it might be yours for the lower sum.

Oh, extraordinary.

Um.

Would you mind telling me how you came to be possessed of this book?

It is the property of a friend of mine who permits me to dispose of it at a small profit, of course.

Of course, of course.

May I know his name?

Mr. Ralphe Summertrees of Park Lane.

Oh, Park Lane, indeed.

You may inquire of him if you wish.

I'm sure he would not hesitate to say a word in my favor.

I'm sure.

I would not dream of it, 25 pounds.

Perhaps so great an outlay would be inconvenient.

You know, I am so, how you, absent-minded, you know?

My affairs are in some confusion.

[laughs] Well, I know it is often so.

I have a backer who, in such cases, will advance the sum required.

Really?

[Miss Mackail] All that you would have to do would be to pay a certain sum each week.

Oh?

Say, well, uh.

Would 10 shillings be too much?

Oh, no, no, that's perfect, Miss Mackail, perfect.

Um.

Your purse is on the mantelpiece.

Oh, dear.

I shall forget my head next, huh?

Will it be necessary to sign any form or agreement for the total amount?

[Miss Mackail] There need be no formalities, Mr. Webster.

Your honesty is plain to behold.

As yours is, Miss Mackail.

Voila.

Thank you.

I shall call on you this day next week.

Might we not, in the meantime, meet to discuss books and, uh- Mr. Webster, I have my good name to preserve.

Oh, of course, pardon.

Oui.

[door thuds] -[lock clicking] -[clock ticking] It's a good fit?

Bon.

Look behind the counter.

I will go to the alcove where the desk is.

Oh?

Look here.

[Phelps] Nothing over here, sir.

Could you bring your lamp in here?

It's so dark.

I can't see a thing.

[shoes tapping] Bon, these are perfectly ordinary account books, daybook, journal, ledger.

What's this?

Oh!

Mr. Rogers, our friend Mr. Tyrrell and Miss Mackail, aha.

Four columns date, address, amount of money, objects sold.

And here I am, you see.

Mr. Alport Webster, address, 25 pounds, first-edition "Rasselas," and here in this little box at the end, the amount to be paid weekly, 10 shillings.

Sounds a perfectly respectable business, sir.

Oui, with some very distinguished clients, huh?

Lord Semptam.

"1895."

Pass me the others quickly, would you?

"1894."

[Valmont] Merci.

"1893.

This is the one I want to look at.

Now, then, where are we?

Ah!

Here we are.

Here we are.

Oh!

Brilliant.

What audacity, huh?

[Phelps] Sir?

Lord Semptam bought a Sheraton writing table three years ago for 50 pounds, and he's been paying two pounds a week ever since.

And he will go on paying forever if that young lady goes on calling on him.

[chuckles] It is a conception of genius.

[Phelps] But indubitably criminal, sir.

Yes, oh, Phelps, she has the loveliest gray-blue eyes.

[page tearing] Valmont, you tell me that Summertrees is a swindler.

No, no, no, no, no, one needs a less crude word.

He is unique.

Do you have the evidence?

Are you free this evening, hmm?

You're not gonna cook me snails for dinner?

[laughs] Splendid idea.

No, no, no, no.

Eh, you must look rather impressive in your inspector's uniform, huh?

Bless my soul, he wants me to dress up for it.

My dear friend, you must do exactly as I say.

[light clicks] Oh, I beg your pardon.

I expected to meet Mr. Webster.

[light clicks] Oh, there you are, Mr. Webster.

I did not notice you at first.

Miss Mackail, you have heard perhaps the name Eugene Valmont, hmm?

No.

Should I have?

-[Phelps chuckles] -Phelps.

Sit down, Miss Mackail, please.

You have called on Lord Semptam this week?

Oh, you should know.

You are presumably a friend of his.

And collected two pounds from him?

This gentleman is plainly a police inspector.

What are you, Mr. Webster?

Or Monsieur Valmont?

You shall learn who Eugene Valmont is.

In 1893, you sold Lord Semptam a Sheraton table?

-Well, yes.

-For 50 pounds?

I do not remember.

You will refresh your memory.

Lord Semptam has paid for that table six times over and is still paying.

Of what are you accusing me, Monsieur Valmont?

Of criminal fraud.

Is it not you who are guilty of criminal fraud, in presenting yourself to me under a false name, -on false pretenses?

-[Hale chuckles] Inspector, can I bring charges against this man?

He can only have obtained this sheet by burglary.

He has grossly deceived me and used his foreign wiles to undermine my virtue, in vain, may I say.

But why on earth should Lord Semptam go on paying?

Because he is absent-minded, because all the victims of this gang -are absent-minded.

-[Miss Mackail chuckles] Now, you-you will change your tone, Miss Mackail.

You have changed yours, Monsieur Valmont.

Only yesterday you adored me.

Justice comes first, dear lady.

Or perhaps that was part of your gross deception.

Alas, no, no, no, it was genuine.

[clicks] Hale, you saw these newspapers, huh?

A cure for absent-mindedness.

Oui, the poor fools who answered the advertisements were visited by this young lady and the other five members of the gang and fell into the trap.

The gang took advantage of their absent-mindedness to collect payments forever.

Where is your proof?

Oh, yes, Valmont, we-we need evidence.

The evidence is in the records kept by Mr. Summertrees or Simpson or Dr. Willoughby, the man of three identities.

It is not illegal for a man to carry on a business under an assumed name, nor to sign pamphlets under a pseudonym.

Ah!

So, you admit the existence of the pamphlet, huh?

The core of the whole fraud!

Fraud, indeed.

Mr. Summertrees has a harmless fad.

He believes that absent-mindedness can be cured by self-hypnosis.

Like many others, he's put his beliefs into print.

But Lord Semptam's payments?

His lordship is a frequent customer of ours.

We keep a sort of running contract with him by which he pays us two pounds a week.

I can prove it.

Oh.

How?

This is my visiting list, but you also need what we term our encyclopedia.

That contains a full record of all our transactions and will bear out my words.

Very ingenious, and how may one see this indispensable volume, huh?

Simply by letting me use your portable telephone and asking Mr. Summertrees for it.

Oh, no, you don't.

[chuckles] I know the number.

Ah, Central, get me Park Lane 140.

Dear lady, you would do better to confess.

I would be so pleased to help you obtain clemency.

What a capital idea, Monsieur Valmont, a sort of absent-minded league.

[Valmont chuckles] It is you, not I, who have a criminal mind.

Is that the residence of, oh, it's you, Podgers, Hale here.

Now, listen to me.

I want you to go to Mr. Summertrees and tell him Miss Mackail wants the encyclopedia for 1893.

Now, if he won't give it to you, arrest him.

Bring him and the volume here to Mr. Valmont's flat.

Now, be quick about it.

Right.

He'll be here in half an hour.

Must we wait that long to prove my innocence?

We shall use it to prove your guilt.

Pardon.

Come.

Lord Semptam is waiting for us.

Lord Semptam, has this young lady sold you any other articles besides the Sheraton table?

Young lady?

Now, where have I seen you before?

But she's been calling on you every week for the last three years.

Bless my soul.

How kind of you to remember a lonely old man.

It was to collect money.

Ah, for some good cause, no doubt.

In October, in October 1893, she sold you that table.

Ah!

Is that how I came by it?

Oui.

Has she sold you any other articles?

[chuckles] Have you, young lady?

Indeed, yes, Lord Semptam.

It appears she has.

No doubt you have kept an inventory, hmm, receipts?

Inventory, receipts?

Good heavens.

It would confuse me to keep such things.

Do you mean you can neither confirm nor deny her story?

Oh, please spare me all these questions.

I cannot remember every trifle.

Oh, dear.

Just imagine him in the witness box.

[chuckles] -Nobody has called?

-No, sir.

Hmm.

Oh, please sit down.

-[lock clicking] -[key jingling] Podgers is taking his time.

While we are waiting, Monsieur Valmont, may I remind you that you owe me 10 shillings?

Oh!

You-you are incorrigible.

[coins clinking] -Voila.

-Thank you.

Mm.

Monsieur, are you connected with Scotland Yard?

[chuckles] Not likely.

You have no official standing as a detective, then?

-Only my reputation.

-[telephone rings] Ah, Summertrees.

Hello?

Yes, speaking.

What?

Out of what?

Can't hear you, Podgers.

Out of print?

The encyclopedia's out of print?

Mr. Summertrees says so?

All right, all right.

-What does this mean, huh?

-[fire crackling] That is a criminal offense!

I think not, monsieur.

English law.

She's got you there.

You do not belong to Scotland Yard.

You had no right to it.

If it had been in Mr. Hale's possession, I should not have dared burn evidence, but you stole a confidential document from my master and I thought it best to destroy it.

It-it was a signal, Valmont.

How brilliantly you explain the obvious, Hale.

She must have arranged with Summertrees that if she ever telephoned through the word encyclopedia, he-he'd burn the records.

Oh, you've got to face it, old man.

Every scrap of evidence has vanished.

The farce is over, gentlemen.

Either arrest me or unlock that door.

Or I promise you the newspapers will make it hot -for both of you.

-Newspapers?

[sighs] Unlock the door for her, Phelps.

Good evening, Mr. Hale.

Good evening, Monsieur Eugene Valmont.

I shall give myself the pleasure of calling on you next week for my 10 shillings.

[Valmont groans] Well, so much for justice.

This time next week, hmm.

You know, with me, [speaking in foreign language] there are some things that come before justice.

[lively dramatic music] [bright music]