The Avengers

Director: Right. Settle down now, studio.

Dead quiet, please.

Good evening and welcome to "The Man and the Place."

Tonight, we call on a man not of one but of many places.

His name is Colonel Vernon Wayne-Gilley,

whose ninth book, "Go Anywhere," has been published.

Many of you will remember his previous books,

which have been described by the reviewers

as astringent mixtures of hard travel and hard politics.

And, of course, he's appeared many times on television, too.

And so tonight, Colonel Wayne-Gilley

is back with us in our studio again,

and he's gonna give us some of his views

and also, we hope, tell us some of the fascinating stories

that he's collected in a lifetime of crossing

and recrossing the world.

Good evening, Colonel.

Well, now, Colonel, um, out of all the places,

out of all the countries that you've visited,

can you think of one that you'd prefer to remember

than any of the others?

Colonel?

Good morning, Gilmore, sorry to badger you again like this.

That's all right, Steed. Nice to see you.

Well, we've got something for you.

- What is it? - I don't know whether you're gonna like this...

but fortunately, it's none of my business.

Tell me he has a heart attack, I'll leave you in peace.

I've only a general interest in him. Now, I am intrigued.

It's not often a man falls dead

in front of the television cameras.

The viewers got good value last night.

Better value than you think. He was murdered.

You've made my day.

How'd he die?

- He was poisoned. - What with?

Cyanide.

- Cyanide? - Go in there and take a deep breath.

- You can still smell the stuff. - What sort of dose?

Enough to kill a horse, couple of horses.

Ho ho.

Mm. Were you watching last night?

Me? You know my working hours.

Of course. Well, I was watching.

The stuff was in his stomach, I suppose.

It was in his stomach. I know what you're thinking.

Cyanide acts like that,

so how could he take a fatal dose before he went on the air?

- How? - Like this...

If I hadn't fished this out of his stomach myself,

I would never have believed it.

Well, he was taking pills for some sort of allergy.

Yes. He was certainly allergic to this one.

Now, we take that in half.

Now, that little chap there is a watch mechanism.

I don't know how you set it or wind it up yet,

but that's what it is. It's jeweled, too.

It's precision stuff.

And that was in Wayne-Gilley's stomach?

Yes, in two halves. I've put it together since.

There's a sort of spring mechanism which shoots the two halves apart.

And that was set to go off at 8:30 last night,

the time that he appeared on the air.

I suppose so, yes.

- You've tested it for cyanide? - Of course I have.

Yeah, of course. So he could've taken this

instead of his own pills anytime during the day.

At half past eight, shoots enough cyanide into his stomach

to knock out a regiment, thus murder.

And before goodness knows how many witnesses.

- Oh, there's another thing. - What's that?

How could Wayne-Gilley know, I mean, how could he know

that he was gonna take one of this pills?

That's your problem.

Hah. I suppose it is. It is quite a problem, too.

I don't care how non-committal you are.

That's the picture. He died of heart failure.

All right, call it pulmonary embolism if you're talking to them.

What? No, Fortunately, we got one of our own men

to do the PM, so that's all right,

and we'll keep you in the picture, sir.

Now, how many of these things are there?

24, including the one he swallowed.

- And all fitted with this time mechanism. - Every one.

It wouldn't have made any difference which one he'd taken.

It would have been the same. They were all in pieces when we found the bottle.

They all came apart at half past eight last night?

- That's right. - Hmm.

Didn't care if we found them, did he?

Well, he knew we'd find one at the post-mortem.

Couple of dozen more wouldn't matter.

Expensive, Steed. Very expensive.

How much one of these little gadgets cost?

£40, £50 if you had them made specially. Swiss, I suppose.

£1,200, £1,500 the lot.

Biggish overheads.

Not really, not for him.

Him? What do you mean, him?

You running to clairvoyance these days, Steed?

No more than you. I see you've got his file out already.

Hmm. All right. Let's have a look.

Olaf Pommeroy alias Jules Edouard Baer alias...

Edward Speerman?

Yes, and several others we don't know about.

"Mr. Teddy Bear."

Hmm, "Mr. Teddy Bear."

Yes. What do we know about him?

Born... well, that's a bit difficult.

- Sardinia. - Maybe.

First we really know of him was with the Resistance,

World War II, Greece and then Italy.

Yes, he'd started to specialize in executions even then.

Herr General Grantz. He took off the Fuhrer a bit.

Used to bash the table when he made speeches.

He was addressing the loyal population

of Talana, Italy, in May '43,

grabbed hold of the microphone to emphasize a point or two,

Unfortunately, the stem was cut,

carrying a couple of thousand volts or so.

Herr General Freiber, gassed when opening his safe. Mindel...

I remember him, he was the lad who liked souvenirs, wasn't he?

He had an American hand grenade turned into a table lighter.

He picked it up one evening to light a cigar,

found that someone had turned it back into a live grenade again.

After the war, nothing for five or six years.

Mr. Teddy Bear. What's his current price?

According to all accounts, £100,000 per killing.

Whew.

For that, you get a nice, quiet practical joke

or a public execution like last night's affair, according to taste.

'Course, Wayne-Gilley had it coming to him for a long time.

I'm not surprised. He was a double agent for so many countries,

I'm a wonder it didn't happen before.

Even double agents have their uses.

What about Mr. Teddy Bear?

What do you got in his personal file?

I wonder what mischief that little fellow had been up to.

- That's not much use, is it? - Can't even get his height.

- Anything else? - He was in Rome 18 months ago. Now he's here.

- Surely he would've left after last night. - He didn't. That we do know.

Also, unreliable sources say

he's got another job to do here before he does leave.

- Really? - Yes, unfortunately,

unreliable sources don't say who or what.

Anyway, Steed, get him.

That's as near an order as I can make it.

Be a pleasure to deal with a real professional again.

Hmm. Well, let me know what you decide.

That's all.

Oh, yeah. Well, I'll let you know.

"Mr. Teddy Bear."

(Steed plays piano notes, hums "Blue Danube Waltz")

But how do we get hold of him? Box number, telephone number?

You don't call him, he calls you.

Mr. Teddy Bear likes to work alone as much as possible.

Anyway, you want contact to be made somehow.

That's right and hire him to do another killing.

- Who? - Me, for instance.

Are you considered good enough bait?

I don't see why not.

It's not my pedigree he wants, only money.

We put it around that you're in the market

for hired assassins, so if you're ready, let's get started.

Thank heavens. I thought we were in for a musical evening.

Come on, you've got homework to do.

You don't think we can let you hire Mr. Teddy Bear

on his own account, do you, much as you might like to?

Oh, I thought it was just like calling a cab.

Who do you want me to represent?

That is your homework, so get your boots on and let's get going.

We got a long evening. After you.

After you, lady. All right, George, set her up.

All set, John.

Fine. That's Bridges, Jeffrey Bridges.

- He's your immediate superior. - Let's see them.

I'm sorry. Bridges again.

Height... 5-foot-10. Weight... 170.

He's got a slight Welsh accent. Listen.

He's a long way towards it, believe you me, boy,

so don't give me all that talk about accurate information.

And another thing...

Now, he'll act as a cover for your story. Listen again.

He's a long way towards it, believe you me, boy,

so don't give me all that talk about accurate information.

And another thing...

All right, that's Bridges. Who else?

Sliebermann. Now, he's your Brussels contact.

Import/export, drugs, diamonds, women.

He looks a very unpleasant character.

He's actually Detective Sergeant Cook.

He's married, he's got three kids, lives at Staines.

It just shows you can't go by appearances.

- All right, Sliebermann, Brussels. I've got it. - Now, Sliebermann,

as far as you're concerned, will arrange payment for the job.

- Before or after you're dead? - I can't say. Seems to vary.

Normally, Mr. Teddy Bear, he's like £20,000 in advance

more or less to cover expenses, rest on delivery.

Very gentlemanly.

Hasn't anybody ever welshed on him?

Yeah, there was one.