Listen, Bream. You're going to go straight to Scotland Yard and tell them about that body.
BBream
Not a chance. And don't try anything, or I'll tell them to pick you up as well.
Try anything. What can I do? [Pause.] Except haunt you, of course.
Haunt you. I suppose you do believe in ghosts?
BBream
Oh, sure. All the time.
Good. Because I'm a ghost.
You're not backing out again, are you Marty?
No, but I'm very busy at the moment.
Three o'cl . . . [he stops, realizing he's been caught out]
Come on, we'll get the car.
[Marty reappears after having been asked by Jeff to keep watch on the woman next door]
Now look, Jeff. Jeannie wouldn't like it much.
Well, Jeannie won't see it.
Well, they'd put me away if I told her. Now get back in there!
[Jeff is in jail, and Marty has found out that his alibi was a lie]
Come on, Jeff. You've got to open up a bit. You're in this pretty deep, you know.
I know how deep I'm in, I don't need you to remind me.
What is it then, some sort of trouble? Blackmail? Is that it? You're being forced to, to cooperate?
Well, to my way of thinking, there's only one possibility left. You were there on Tuesday, and you were there because you wanted to be. That's it, isn't it? You've conned me, the inspector, your own lawyer . . . everybody. Me!
Look, Marty, why don't you go to wherever you go to until this thing blows over.
Oh no, it's not as easy as that, Jeff. I'm supposed to be your friend, someone you turn to. Not someone you make a fool of the minute something goes wrong!
[Jeff doesn't reply]
All right. If that's the way you want it, I'm going.
[Marty disappears]
[Marty reappears]
Jeff [after a pause]: Nothing.
[Marty disappears again, and Jeff punches the cot]
[Jeff is hospitalized from a fall, and he and Marty are discussing whether Marty was a good detective]
Marty: At least I didn't fall off a balcony. The only time I slipped up, I got killed!
JRJeff Randall
What happened Roger? You used to be one of the best investigative journalists around.
RWRoger Whale
I got old Jeff and I got tired. I spent my entire life dealing with wars, famine, disease, poverty, miscarriages of justice and misery, it was killing me. They pay me very well to titillate their readers. I may have lost my credibility, but I've gained a villa in the south of France.