Time Without Pity

Get up. Get up!

Jennie?

- Mr David Graham? - Yes.

I'm Jeremy Clayton.

Your son's lawyer.

Would all the passengers for the 6am plane to Stockholm

please report to the main departure hall.

I couldn't come sooner.

- Is it tomorrow? - Yes.

What time?

The execution is ordered for tomorrow morning, at eight o'clock.

I have my car.

- Is that all your luggage, sir? - Yes.

Passengers for the 6am plane to Stockholm,

please report to the main departure hall.

- What happened? - Hmm?

Tell me, what happened?

I brought the transcript of the trial for you.

I... I shan't be able to read all that. I'll try later.

Tell me about it now.

On the night of the murder, your son, Alec, called for Jennie Cole.

- She is, of course, the... - The murdered girl, yes.

The two of them went to the Stanford flat,

that had been lent to Alec by Robert Stanford for the weekend.

- Stanford? - The Stanford car people. The East Enders.

In the morning, the girl was found dead.

Your son was picked up, dazed and distracted,

hardly knowing where he was, or what had happened.

He'd been drinking.

And he was charged with the murder.

He's innocent. I know he's innocent.

The case against him legally is overwhelming.

Then it's legally overwhelming against an innocent man.

The prisoner's name is Alec Graham. It's all been arranged.

There should be a permit waiting for us here.

And, er... he is?

The prisoner's father.

Mr Graham?

I thought I ought to have a word with you before you go in.

These last twenty-four hours can be a hell,

only your son has adjusted himself. He's...

He's built a protective shell round himself,

and we all feel here that it's a great blessing.

It's our job to protect the prisoner as much as possible,

and, if we thought a visit was disturbing to him,

we'd be forced to cut that visit short.

If you'll follow him, this officer will take you across.

Oh, Mr Graham, will you leave your bag here, please?

Would you rather I waited for you here?

I think you'll find the boy has been well looked after, sir.

Alec?

I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. Forgive me, I...

Well, you see, I... I didn't know.

Can you hear me?

I was moving about. I was travelling all the time.

This advance that my publishers gave me...

I'd started to work on a new novel that I'd set in Canada...

You were working on one of your longer drunks.

You were in a sanatorium.

The prosecution brought it up.

Maybe they thought it would be good for their case, I suppose.

Drunken father, bad blood.

I came as soon as I could, Alec.

You're drunk now.

Oh, no! No, I haven't had a drink for a long time.

It was just that I couldn't get here sooner.

I... I'd been very sick.

Even before this happened, you hadn't written for months.

I know, I...

I'm sorry. Forgive me.

But it didn't matter.

Somehow, we always knew that we were together, you and I.

You remember.

I remember every letter you did write.

Every word.

And those frightening boarding schools you put me in.

And the weeks, months, that would go by without seeing you.

And then you'd show up with a silly little gift of atonement in your pocket.

I'm here now, Alec. That's the important thing.

Each time, you'd seem to me so handsome, so charming,

I was glad to forgive you.

I'd forgive you anything.

But not this time, David. You left me alone.

I couldn't help it, Alec.

Doesn't matter.

Nothing really matters.

Besides, I...

understand now about Mother.

You just made use of me to get her back.

Look, Alec, we haven't got time to go into all that.

Tell me, what... what happened? I know you didn't do this.

- No, I don't want to talk about it. - Don't...

- But you've got to let me help you! - No!

I'm going to die in a few hours, and it'll be over.

It's too awful when you think there's hope. I...

I went through it once. I'm not going through it again.

But you're letting them. You're not even trying to help yourself.

But why?

Why should I wait until I turn into something like you?

- Oh, no, that's... - Long before this happened,

I'd started to drink.

What?

You've got to let me help you.

Please!

Alec?

Alec!

Well, there must be something I can do.

I'll study the transcript. I'll get more time. Only...

- Only you mustn't give up! - Why not?

What difference would it have made if you had died when you were my age?

Alec...

Alec!

What are you trying to do?

I mustn't even smell a drink.

What are you thinking, that one drink won't make any difference?

You're wrong, you know, you're wrong, but...

There's something wrong here. There's something that's been overlooked.

I've put all the skill, all the knowledge of twenty years of the law into this,

- and I've found nothing. - Well, you're wrong, you're wrong.

All right, then, Graham, face the facts.

Alec was insanely in love with this girl. He admitted it.

That night, she told him they were finished, it was over.

They were seen quarrelling violently in a public place.

Oh, he's innocent!

There were signs of a violent quarrel at the flat.

Alec's face was scratched. He admits having fought with her.

- No. - He...

No, not Alec.

Alec's gentle, like his mother.

He lied to me.

He told me she was so drunk he had to leave her at the flat.

The postmortem showed no trace of alcohol in the girl's blood.

Why should he lie to you?

Clayton...

you believe he's innocent, don't you?

- Well... - Oh, stop acting like a lawyer, man!

Tell me what you... what you believe as a man.

I've fought this with everything I could.

I've had two stays of execution granted,

and there's nothing more I can do.

Well, then let me fight.

Get me an appointment with the Home Office.

The Home Office can't grant a third stay

unless there's some overwhelming new evidence, or an undeniable doubt.

Somewhere,

there must be something that everybody's overlooked.

What about the girl who was murdered?

- Didn't she have any relatives? - One sister, Agnes Cole.

Before you stir up impossible hopes, I think you should see her.

You'll find her here, this morning.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce

the lovely ladies of our show.

First we have lovely Yvonne.

Yvonne is what is known as a tall, willowy blonde.

Sometimes she will away, sometimes she won't.

And here we have Laura.

Laura, now there's the type of girl who won't go anywhere without her mother.

But boy, can her mother go places.

And here's Deirdre, beautiful Deirdre. She likes the little things in life.

Little Rolls, little mink coat, little diamond ring...

I want to see Agnes Cole.

- What? - Agnes Cole.

- I'm Agnes Cole. - Now here come the lovely

dancing ladies of the show!

I'm David Graham, Alec Graham's father.

Miss Cole, Miss Cole, Miss Cole, please, could I have a word with you?

Your son killed my sister.

You keep away from me!

No, Alec could never have done a thing like that...

How could you know? You weren't even at the trial.

My sister, Jennie, was a sweet and lovely person before she met Alec.

And then she got so's you wouldn't think she was the same girl.

She'd come home, night after night, drunk!

And then one night she came home, Christmas Eve it was, too,

and I thought she'd had an accident.

She was all bruised,

her cheeks were all swollen, and her eye...

Well, then it couldn't have been Alec. It must have been someone else.

She must have been going with someone else.

- No, only Alec. - No, it couldn't have been Alec.

- What other man was she seeing? - No-one.

Why should a chorus girl go out with a penniless boy?

Especially if he were being cruel to her? It doesn't...

Look, please, can't any of you tell me something about Jennie Cole?

- You see, I've got to find out, because... - What are you doing?

What are you trying to do?

Dirty the memory of my sister?

Let me tell you, Mr Graham.

Your son killed my sister.

And I'm glad he's going to die!

Can I help you, sir?

I want to see Mr Stanford.

Oh, er... come in, I've been waiting for you.

Mr... Mr Gage.

Dad, this is Mr Gage. You remember I told you about him?

You told me about Mr Gage?

Yes, I told you about him, he's...

he's going to coach me for my Bar exams.

I certainly don't remember you telling me about a tutor.

Oh, Dad, you...