The College Girl Murders

Feed the solution in the glass cage. Now we'll see if it worked.

Mr. Cabble... - What? All right, press the valve.

More pressure.

It works. We've done it. Odorless and tasteless.

It kills in a split second.

Animals... and people.

People, Mr. Cabble? - It paralyzes the airways.

The future of instant death. - But, Mr. Cabble...

What's wrong? That was the terms of the contract.

Yes, but don't you know who the client is?

Of course I know.

And what'll they do with the poison?

You worry too much.

But Mr. Cabble, if you discover a poison, you have to report it to the police.

Certainly. But first, we don't want our work to be disturbed.

Now I'd like you to write down the formula in the register.

This is very strange, Mr. Cabble. Commissioning something like this,

and with very specific abbreviations...

Write, I said.

Hello. This is Edgar Wallace.

THE MONK WITH THE WHIP

Have you brought the poison?

Yes, and you'll find it quite satisfactory, sir.

And here's the book. I've already tested it.

Death is instantaneous. My reward, sir?

Wait right here. You'll get your reward right away.

Thank you, sir.

Get in there! - Why are you putting me in another cell?

Shit.

Oh, it's you, Cress.

Yeah, I'm the one who had you relocated.

You?

You want some easy money? - Who doesn't?

500 pounds? 1,000 pounds?

For 500, I'd do a lot. For 1,000, anything. You got that much?

I'm your man. I just don't see what I can do for you in here.

Not in here. Outside.

Outside? I have two years left.

Just leave that to me.

Say the word and I'll do it. But why'd you choose me?

That's why.

Sorry, got carried away. It's an old habit of mine.

Yes, I know your record: car thief, pickpocket, cardsharp...

And I want you to stay that way. Here's what you're to do for us.

First, the beard.

Get going.

They won't stop me? - Go!

Come in here.

Come on, no time to waste. Get in. - Okay.

Okay? - Let's go.

Hello, Greaves? You can go.

Six cans of garbage. - Okay.

Well, as simple as that? - Be quiet. Now put these on.

Come on.

Hello, Greaves.

Get in.

All set.

Get out.

We're going down, huh? - Yes.

You aren't very talkative, are you?

No.

After you.

What are they for? - This way, sir.

Stop right there.

Frank Keeney, sir.

Yeah, that's me.

Did you get all the instructions? - Yes.

Have any questions?

No. Only...

There's a photograph on that stand. Memorize that face in every detail.

Do not open that book under any circumstances.

No, sir.

I'll make you a wealthy man, Mr. Keeney, as long as you do exactly as you're told.

But you're a dead man if you ever try to deceive us.

We'll find you wherever you are. Do I make myself clear?

Yes, sir.

Good.

The interview is finished, sir.

You're welcome.

Pam, what is it? What's wrong with you?

Pam?

Pam!

That was murder! I had no idea what the book was meant for!

Quiet! - I won't be quiet! If I'd known...

Not another word.

No...

Don't, Cress.

No!

I asked you what you'd do for money. And you said, "Anything."

What will they try next?

Inspector Higgins, come in here.

He isn't here right now, Sir John. He's working on an important case.

He's becoming a megalomaniac.

Keep on like that and they won't think you're only interested in criminals.

Not in their own offices. - Where's Inspector Higgins?

Always off somewhere.

Young man, go and bring Higgins here. - Well, here I am, Sir John.

It's a lucky thing for you I'm in a good mood today. Come on.

My dear Higgins, these country doctors really aren't so bad.

A young girl falls over dead in a church, of natural causes apparently.

The doctor might've diagnosed a heart attack, but he didn't.

Why do you think that is?

I don't know. I wasn't there. - A young, healthy girl. A heart attack?

He was immediately suspicious. He asked for an autopsy. Look, here's the result.

What? - Yes. Death by poisoning.

Prussic acid? - Dr. Shinetod said...

Shinewood, Sir John. - Yes, that's what I said.

By accident I discovered it was poisonous. - And you're quite sure?

Yes, this is an unknown poison. Its basis is prussic acid.

That's what's so frightening about it. A hundred other doctors would have...

diagnosed a heart attack. - We're up against a tough one, huh?

By the way, did you know I'm now a forensic psychologist?

So you passed the examinations? - Well, yes.

Not exactly with distinction, shall we say with enthusiasm.

I had to take night classes. This case will give me the chance...

to demonstrate my theories. I intend to solve it by psychology alone.

Sir John, for me the facts are what count. - But that's old hat! Be flexible.

Broaden your outlook, Higgins! Take my example.

Mr. Powers?

What's going on?

Police, as you can see. - Police?

Does that worry you, Mr. Denver?

Why are the police here?

Do you think it has something to do with Pam?

I mean, have they found anything wrong? - Well, we'll soon know.

I'm sure it's about Pam. Maybe Mary has something to say to the police.

Why me? Why not ask Betty? - You keep quiet!

I think it's best if we all keep quiet.

She's right. We should avoid trouble.

All right. Since you don't want to tell them, then don't.

Only I won't keep my mouth shut. Pam was my best friend.

Don't forget that.

I simply can't understand it.

I was also in church that morning.

I was sitting in front of Pam Walsbury. I didn't notice anything.

You mustn't get excited, Mrs. Foster. We'll have this all cleared up.

Taking a psychological approach. Of course, a question arises...

Yes?

What reason would be conceivable to kill the girl?

Not a thing.

You don't understand, Mrs. Foster. She was killed.

And since no one is killed for no reason, there must be a reason.

That may be, but...

She doesn't see it, Sir John. - What?

Well, the reason. Who was Pam Walsbury?

Family, wealth, where does she come from?

Pam Walsbury was from Wales.

Her parents are caretakers at a hotel. Wealth? As good as nothing.

And who pays for the internship? - She had a scholarship.

Would you please go to your rooms, ladies.

Could you stop your pacing, please? It makes me nervous!

Lunch will be postponed, gentlemen.

What's actually going on, Bannister? - Little Pam's heart attack.

Don't make me laugh! Then why the police? - Don't ask me. I don't now.

Don't you know, my dear colleague Keyston?

Me?

Why me?

Well, little Pam Walsbury was your favorite student.

I'm tempted to say:

Your teacher's pet. Is that not correct?

Shut your mouth! - But gentlemen!

We aren't in the gym here.

You're capable of anything, aren't you?

A little nervous, that colleague.

Pam Walsbury was probably poisoned.

We need your help in finding the culprit.

If you know the killer, tell us! - Sir John, if anyone has information...

I said that! - Sure.

So if you have any information, please let us know.

Even the smallest details are of the utmost importance.

Don't you have anything to say, Betty?

Me? I don't know what you mean.

No? Betty, Mary, and Pam were at a party at Mr. Denver's over the weekend.

You're lying! You weren't there at all!

Who is Mr. Denver?

A writer. He lives in the summer house.

Now tell me a little about that party, Mary. Was it fun?

Did you drink?

And shake?

There's nothing wrong with it, Sir John.

It's always very lonely here, and sometimes we go to Mr. Denver's.

But nothing happened there! - No?

Sir John, there's no point now. The ladies seem a little nervous.

You have to give the children time so they can feel at ease again.

Then they will surely come up with something. Isn't that right, Higgins?

- Quite. - Yes.

Then we'll most certainly be able to shed light on this dark matter.

Pardon me.

I don't like this at all. Who are you?

This is Mr. Keyston, one of our teachers.

Good day.

Day.

Betty!

You proceed completely unpsychologically, Inspector.

Especially young girls, you have to handle them with care!

This is about murder, Sir John. I can't sit around coaxing out secrets.

What's this?

"You have to come at night, not during the day."

Surely that's from the little blonde with the googly eyes.

I hardly think so.