The Saint Meets the Tiger

WOMAN SCREAMS

-Don't. Don't come in here.

-You can't stop me.

-Stay where you are.

One more step and I'll shoot.

'Ha-ha-ha-ha! You haven't the nerve. Where is he?

-'I won't tell you, you can't make me.'

-Stick 'em up!

Ah!

HE LAUGHS

Oh, oh, it's you, sir.

I take it you've given up answering bells, Horace.

-I'm very sorry, sir, I didn't hear it.

-'Oh.'

-I beg your pardon.

You get quite a thrill out of this thing, don't you?

Yes, but the real thing would be better.

That's why I came to you, sir,

instead of with that American gangster chap to Chicago.

I'm afraid I must have been a bitter disappointment to you, Horace.

Yes, if you'll pardon my saying it, you have, sir.

I might just as well have stayed with his lordship.

Poor Horace, forced into a life of respectability.

PHONE RINGS

Never mind, I'll take it.

Hello?

Yes, this is Simon Templar.

You don't know me, but would you be interested in a million pounds?

Ha! Well, who wouldn't?

Uh-huh.

All right, then, come over now.

HORN HOOTS

Now, Horace, who do you think could have a million pounds?

The Bank of England, sir.

BELL RINGS

There he is.

-Now, you get the drinks.

-Very good, sir.

Oh!

Eh...

Oh...

-Horace?

-Yes, sir.

-Get me Whitehall 7662.

Yes.

Tiger.

Baycombe.

The coast.

-Come on, give it to me.

-Is he dead?

-Yes, murdered.

-Oh, dear.

Then don't tell me again you wished you'd gone to Chicago

-with that gangster gentleman.

-No, I won't, sir.

Inspector Teal.

Hello, Teal, sorry to get you out of bed, this is Simon Templar.

Oh, no, this is no joke. It's murder.

Right on my own doorstep this time.

Well, there it is, Baycombe.

-That's where we're going, Horace. Get the car out.

-Very good, sir.

BELL RINGS

-That must be Scotland Yard.

-Probably.

-Don't let the inspector pump you.

-I don't know anything.

I know and you know, but the point is,

-will the inspector believe it?

-Surely, sir.

-I don't know about Teal, he's a very inquisitive man.

-Oh.

-And, Horace?

-Sir?

-Don't look so guilty.

Oh.

-Simon Templar in?

-Yes, sir, he's expecting you.

-Right.

-I hear you had a murder here, yeah?

-Yes, sir, but I don't know anything.

Ah, we'll see about that later.

-Well, here we are again, Teal.

-Where's the body?

-Perkins.

-Cigarette?

-No, thank you.

-That'll be all, Horace.

-Very good, sir.

Hey! Just a minute, you.

Don't you leave the house, I want to talk to you.

But I don't know anything.

Inspector?

-You know I never drink when I'm on duty.

-Too bad.

-Now, what's the answer?

-Well, what's the question?

Ah, quit stalling, how did he come here?

-Haven't the foggiest idea, never seen him before.

-Inspector?

(It's Joe Gallo the bookie.)

THE INSPECTOR WHISPERS

Right, sir.

So you didn't know Joe Gallo the bookie, eh?

-I'm not a betting man.

-Only we've been looking for him for weeks.

But you look for so many people.

Ah, but he was one of the gang who pulled the Bristol job.

I've never been to Bristol.

I'm not saying you had anything to do with the robbery.

-Banks aren't exactly in your line.

-Hm, except for overdrafts.

I don't know, though.

You might think yourself clever enough to get away

with a million pounds in gold.

-Well, frankly, I could use it.

-Oh, stop trying to be funny.

We counted on Joe leading us to the gang.

Instead of which, he leads you to me.

-Inspector?

-I never drink when I'm on duty.

-Ha.

-You're holding out on me, Saint.

-I don't know any more about it than you do, Teal.

-Did Joe talk?

Well, he wasn't in a talking mood, he was dying.

You're in on this somehow, Saint.

And this time, I'm going to pin it on you.

-Horace?

-Perkins?

-Sir?

-The inspector is leaving.

-Oh, ha-ha.

I've not finished with you yet.

But I don't know anything.

If you say that again, I'll arrest you on suspicion.

CAR HOOTS

-Hey, son.

-Yes, sir.

-How do we get to the inn?

You walk. Up that there street, mister.

Car be all right here?

-Sure, there's no smugglers round Baycombe any more.

-What a pity.

-Here.

-Thank you, sir.

All right, Horace, we walk.

Delightful spot. Quaint, charming, well worth the trip.

I hope.

Hmm, how long will you be wanting it for, sir?

-Oh, just for a few days until we find a cottage.

-Want a bath?

-Well, occasionally, if it's not too inconvenient.

-It'll cost you extra.

-That's all right.

-Suit yourself, but the ocean's free.

-Oh, London papers.

-Just come.

Well, there it is, Horace.

This is terrible.

-What can we do?

-I don't know.

-Well, we've got to do something.

-Well, it's too late now.

Much too late.

PHONE RINGS

Hello? Yes?

Yeah, I just read it.

DOOR OPENS

All right, sure. Yeah, Bittle just came in.

What? He is?

Well... Right, I'll stand by.

-The Tiger seen it?

-He's not pleased.

-He's got worse news.

-What?

-The Saint's just arrived.

-What? Here in Baycombe?

-Hmm-mmm.

-I wonder how much he knows.

That's just what the Tiger's going to find out. Right now.

Listen.

-I don't hear anything.

-Neither do I. Not a sound.

-I'm afraid it's going to be terribly quiet down here, sir.

-Ha-ha.

Put 'em up.

-Hey, hey, for the love of Mike.

-Put it away, Horace.

You must forgive my friend.

He sees the world through crime-coloured glasses.

It's all right, but you shouldn't let him shoot up newspaper men.

-Newspaper man?

-Tidemarsh, the name.

Baycombe correspondent of the Cornwall Gazette.

-You're the Saint, aren't you?

-Yes.

Say, how about an exclusive on this doorstep murder?

Ah, I wish I could.

You deserve something for spotting my arrival almost before I got here.

-But I can't.

-Ah, there must be a story in it somewhere.

-And what did he want?

-I haven't the faintest idea.

No dying man's confession?

Are you sure he didn't say anything?

I wish he had.

So do I.

Would have made a good story.

Look, you're not holding out on me, are you?

Why should I?

Well, if you can't, you can't.

-See you again, I hope.

-I shouldn't be a bit surprised.

-So long.

-So long.

I wonder how he knew we were in Baycombe.

There he is now.

-Have you seen him?

-I saw him.

-And?

-Well, that baby's smart.

Maybe he knows something, maybe he doesn't,

-but he knows to keep his mouth shut.

-Well...

-Shut up.

He said Joe didn't talk, but if Joe didn't talk,

why is Templar in Baycombe?

Bentley, how soon can we get that boat here?

-Two or three weeks, I think.

-Get it here in one week.

We start moving, see everything's ready.

Try and act smart. Both of you.

Watch your step.

I get you, Miss Holm. Now, won't you come and sit down?

I'll bring your stock certificates right away,

as soon as I can lay my hands on them.

-Thank you, Mr Jones.

-I'll be right back.

HE CLEARS THROAT

HE CLEARS THROAT AGAIN

I'm not annoying you, am I?

Not in the least. But don't give up trying.

-I know you're terribly busy, but if you could spare me a moment.

-Sorry.

Well, in that case, I should like to see your employer.

-What?

-I'm looking for a cottage.

-Oh, I see.

-Of course you do, so do I.

-And I couldn't like it more.

-You couldn't like what more?

Well, what I see.

Ahem! Well, what sort of cottage would you be requiring, sir?

Ooh, the very best sort, of course.

You know, plenty of oak beams to bang your head on,

earwigs and spiders in the thatch.

In fact, all the usual offices.

I'll tell you what, if you were to come out to lunch with me,

I could explain exactly what that means.

-You have to fill in forms, you know.

-What? To take you out to lunch?

-No, to rent a cottage.

-Hmm.

Dog licence, fishing permit.

Ah. Hmm.

-Miss Holm, I found your certificates, here they are.

-Thanks.

I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting.

-Not a bit. I've such an amusing talk with this fresh client of yours.

-Oh?

He wants a cottage with a thatched roof and some earwigs. Good morning.

Good morning, Miss Holm.

Cottages, cottages. Now, where did I put my list?

Don't be too long in finding it, will you?

-I'll probably be back in an hour or two.

-Oh, very good.

Hey, Miss Holm.

Listen, I'll forgive you on one condition.

You'll forgive me?! I like that.

There's lots more about me you'll like when you know me better.

Now, the condition is that you don't cancel our lunch date.

-We have no lunch date.

-Hey, Pat!

-Oh, hello, Tiddy.

-Hello.

So you've met Simon Templar?

-Only just.

-Well, aren't you thrilled?

-Should I be?

-I should have thought so. Didn't you know he was the Saint?

Of course, how silly of me.

I didn't recognise you without your halo.

HOOT

-Hello, Auntie.

-Morning, Aunt Aggie.

-Hello.

-This is Mr Templar. My aunt, Miss Gurten.

-How do you do.

-How do you do.

-He's getting a cottage here.

-Hmm.

-I suspect we shall be seeing quite a lot of you.

-Well, I hope so.

Hop in, Pat, we're late for lunch.

You must come to tea one day.

-Tiddy, bring him along soon.

-I most certainly will.

-Yes, you must come as soon as you're settled.

-I'd like to.

-Thank you, Miss Gurten, you're very kind.

-Ha.

-Goodbye.

-Bye.

-Bye.

Nice girl.

That's a darling.

-He seems quite a pleasant, young man.

-Uh-huh.

-What does he do?

-He's the Saint.

-The Saint?

Good gracious, and I've invited him for tea.

-Auntie, look out, be careful.

-You bet I will.

-How do you do.

-And now I want you to meet our friend, Lionel Bentley.

-It's a pleasure, Mr Templar.

-Haven't we met before somewhere?

-I don't think so.

-Lionel Bentley, that name sounds familiar.

-Well, perhaps it'll come back to me.

-Mr Templar,

-now you've met everyone, do have some tea.

-Thank you, Miss Gurten.

Agatha, I'd love another cup, and one of those delicious cakes.

-Oh, mother, darling. Your diet.

-Sugar?

Yes. One, please, if Miss Jones doesn't mind.

You don't have to watch your figure.

I understand you've taken a cottage here, Mr Templar.

Yes. I've been in it almost a week.

-I'm afraid you'll find Baycombe dreadfully dull.

-No chance of that.

By the way, Mr Biddle, when did you leave South Africa?

About eight years ago.

Remember that fellow Kent? He was a mining man, too. Made a fortune

-sorting goldmines and, um, disappeared.

-How exciting.

-What happened to him?

-The police could never find out.

I thought you might've run across him,

being in the same line of business, more or less.

Never heard of him. The world's a big place, you know.

Yes, and amazingly small, too, sometimes.

I suppose you meet some extraordinary people, Mr Templar.

We all do, Miss Gurten.

You see, crooks move in the most select circles these days.

-Isn't that so, Mr Bentley?

-I beg your pardon?

Ooh, you must have met plenty in the city.

Financial gangsters, high-class criminals.

-I know the type.

-I thought you would.

I recollect one firm especially.

A rotten, unscrupulous lot they were, too.

Now, their company was called...

Sorry, it's gone. I have such a vile memory for names.

DOORBELL RINGS

Now who can that be?

-Pat, who else was coming?

-I don't think anybody else.

-Mother!

-Just for the day.

-Well, of all things!

-Who is it?

-You'll never guess.

Ask him to come in, Mary.

-It's Professor Karn.

-But how nice.

He's a geolo...

You know, rocks and things.

Professor Karn, welcome back to Baycombe.

-Miss Gurten, the pleasure's mine,

-You remember my niece?

-How do you do, Miss Patricia.

-Hello, Professor.

-And Mr Bittle.

-How are you, sir?

-How do you do.

-Ah, Mr Bentley. How are you?

-Hello, sir.

Now, here is someone you haven't met before.

May I present a celebrity of another sort?

Mr Simon Templar.

An honour, Professor.

Mr Templar.

You've no idea how much I've always admired your work.

-You're interested in geology?

-Well, only as an amateur, of course.

But tell me, what brings you to Baycombe, Professor?

I hope to complete an investigation I started some time ago, Mr Templar.

And may I ask what you're doing in Cornwall?

You know, that's what I've been dying to ask, Mr Templar.

Haven't we all.

As a matter of fact, I'm here for some big game hunting.

Big game?

In Cornwall?!

LAUGHTER

What exactly do you hope to bag in Baycombe?

As a matter of fact...a tiger.

LAUGHTER

And incidentally, about £1 million.

You've come to the wrong place. No-one in Baycombe has any money.

Are you sure? I was told it was quite a little goldmine.

You're joking! Come along, Professor. Do have some tea.

Young man, you've been listening to fortune tellers.

To a most unfortunate fortune teller.

He died just afterwards.

Might I have some more tea just to keep the Professor company?

What's all this about pots of gold and hunting tigers?

-Well, what do you think, Professor?

-I don't think any more, I know.

-I know that you've been holding out on me!

-Not really.

You said you didn't know Joe Gallo, or anything about the tiger or the Bristol bank robbery.

-Well, I didn't.

-Well how did you get your information?

-From you.

-Huh?!

You told me when you were questioning me.

CLEARS HIS THROAT

Dinner is ready, sir.

All right, Horace.

Oh, forgive me. Will you take a chance on Horace?

-No, thanks. I've had my dinner.

-You are an early bird.

It isn't even eight yet.

PHONE RINGS

Oh, excuse me.

Hello. Hello?

HELLO?

GUNSHOT

-See anything?

-No, not even a mouse.

I didn't think it was mice.

-You all right, Horace?

-Yes, but look.

What price Chicago gangsters now?

That's right. I might have been murdered.

I never thought of that.

Oh, my goodness!

TEMPLAR LAUGHS

That was a come on.

That's what you get for showing your hand this afternoon.

-You made a bad mistake there.

-Oh, no. It proves I'm on the right track.

Besides, it keeps them worrying.

Makes the Tiger think I've got a flock of aces up my sleeve.

-Sir.

-Hm?

I'll fix you up a little snack.

Thanks, Horace.

See here, Saint.

Cards on the table.

I'm after the gold and the Tiger and I'm going to get 'em.

Let's work together. What about a deal?

Thanks. I think I'll stick to my solitaire.

-So you won't work with me, eh?

-No.

All right then. I'm going to arrest you on suspicion of murder.

I don't think so, Professor Karn.

Besides, it might spoil your game if everyone, including the Tiger,

were to find out you were really Scotland Yard.

-Or would it?

-Clever, aren't you(?)

Well, it looks that way. Now here's my deal.

Leave me alone, let me have my fun

and you go on with your geology, and I'll turn the Tiger over to you.

-You will?

-Hm.

-When?

-After I got the gold.

-You'll not get away with it!

-Want to bet?

-I'll give odds you won't.

-All right, what odds?

-Ah, you're crazy!

TEMPLAR LAUGHS

Oh!

Signed...

sealed...and delivered.

I still don't know why you're buying these shares.

I hope you're not being just kind.

My dear Patricia, in business,

I've found that sentiment is bad business.

-And here's the transfer for you to sign.

-Transfer?

-Hm-hm.

Of course. How stupid of me.

Not so very stupid.

I shouldn't sign, Pat. Not just yet.

-Why, Mr Templar!

-In person.

No, you're not seeing a ghost. Surprised, eh?

-Do you mind? I'm abnormally curious.

-Abnormally lucky, I say.

Always, Bentley. Remember that.

Hm. Shares in a mine that hasn't produced an ounce of gold for years.

It's not worth the paper it's printed on.

And Mr Lionel Bentley's buying them for a whale of a lot of money.

Is that any business of yours?

It doesn't sound like your kind of business. You're no boy scout.

-Isn't it all right?

-I'd hate to guarantee this cheque.

I don't have to stand for your insults, Templar.

By the way, I discovered the name of that disreputable banking firm.

-It was...Black, Trent and Black.

-Well?

-What was the name of your firm?

-I suppose you'll find out.

I did. It was Black, Trent and Black.

Now isn't that a coincidence(?)

I'm afraid, Bentley, that you're a dirty crook.

Oh!

I'll have you thrown out!

Well, if you insist, but you'll have to send for the army.

-And the cheque?

-Cash it. Quick. And then sign this.

And don't think he's doing you any favour.

You wanted me?

Show Mr Templar the door.

Yes, sir.

Are you coming?

Well, um...

Yeah, perhaps I should.

Just a big bluff.

SCUFFLING AND SLAPPING

-Ooh!

-He asked for it.

Oh, Saint.

Well, he showed me the door.

It's a perfectly ordinary door. Hardly worth looking at.

-Do you want some more?

-Let me at him!

I don't need you here.

You know, your boys lack brains, Bentley.

They're going to run your head into a noose one day.

-You ready, Pat?

-Yes.

By the window, I think. You're less likely to run into crowds.

One moment.

I strongly advise against it, Templar.

Much better, stay awhile. Both of you.

Your hospitality's very touching, Bentley,

but we must be getting along. So sorry. Oh, your bag, Pat.

Well, that's that. Let's go.

-What's going on here?

-Oh, you want some more, eh?

GUNSHOT

-Get him.

-No!

-Come on!

-Go on, in you go!

-But...! But...!

-Oh!

-Shh!

-I'm being torn to pieces.

-Shut up or you'll be shot to pieces.

-But what about...?

-Shh.

Well, seen them? They came this way.

-They're making for the gate!

-Come on! Quick!

-I'm afraid I got you into something.

-I'm in it to stay.

OK, we're in it together.

Now, listen, Pat, my car's in the lane.

Drive to my cottage, Professor Karn will be there and I'll join you.

-But you're not coming with me?

-No, but if I'm not home before 11,

-tell Karn exactly where I am and what's happened to me.

-Right.

-Remember, not a word to him before 11.

-All right.

I hate leaving you, Saint.

Well, save that for some time when I can do something about it.

I will.

Good luck.

ENGINE REVVING

Got clean away!

Well, where is he?

Got away over the wall.

You blithering idiots!

WHIRRING

WHIRRING

I'll get the stuff ready.

You can start loading it as soon as the boat comes tomorrow.

-Won't be a long job!

-No.

Not now that Templar's out of the way!

That'll be Bittle.

STICK 'EM UP!

Don't make a move, Saint.

Search him!

Good evening, Inspec... Professor.

-Templar in?

-He's not back yet, sir.

-Ah! He always keeps me waiting.

HORN BEEPING

Ah, there he is now.

Good evening, Horace.

Mr Templar's not in, Miss.

Don't I know it!

Oh, Professor Karn!

-I've got something to tell you.

-About Templar?

-Yes.

-What time is it?

-10.30.

Oh, dear, I can't tell you yet.

-Miss Pat, is there anything wrong?

-Plenty.

-Horace, could you give me a cup of tea?

-But, Miss Pat...!

And I'm simply dying for a cigarette, Professor!

-Why did you come back, Templar?

-To find the gold.

-The gold?

-Yes.

You might as well tell me where it is. I know everything else.

-Just how much do you know?

-Facts, Bentley, plenty of them.

And the rest of you might as well get an earful too!

Your scheme was smart...

get hold of a worthless mine and plant your stolen gold in it.

Make a sensational discovery

and then sell your loot on the open market and no questions asked.

It might have worked but you've made one bad mistake...

You murdered Joe Gallo on my doorstep.

That, as you might say, cuts me in.

-What do you mean?

-Simply this, that I get the gold and you get...

well, what's coming to you.

And that goes for you all.

-I know enough to hang the lot of you.

-You know too much, Templar!

-Oh!

-GUN FIRES

-All right, boys!

-That would have been another bad mistake.

If I'm not home merry and bright in 20 minutes,

the police start looking for me here.

-So, if you don't mind, I'll be on my way.

-No, you won't.

-No?

-No.

Bittle was right, you know too much!

If the police arrive I can handle them

and you won't be here to make trouble.

You will have disappeared, Templar, suddenly as you arrived.

And no-one will ever discover your body.

Take him downstairs.

-Murder seems to be getting one of your bad habits, Bentley.

-Hurry it up.

We're wasting time.

PHONE RINGS

Hello.

Keep it quiet, boys.

This is Bentley speaking.

Yeah, I know.

He's here now.

You can't do that. Use your head, Bentley.

If he disappears, the police will crack down on us.

I only want him out of the way for a day or so. Now, listen.

All right, all right, if you say so.

I get it.

-Come on, you.

-Wait!

Let him go.

-I've changed my mind.

-You mean you've got your orders.

-So what?

-At least I know you're not the Tiger.

Burton! Now, get out.

Burton, do show me that door again, will you?

-What's the idea?

-The Tiger is on his way over.

Miss Pat, it's nearly 11 o'clock.

What if the Saint's in trouble?

I'm afraid he is.

Young woman, you've got to tell me what's wrong so I can do something.

-But what can you do?

-You've got to tell me.

Why, Professor Karn!

Oh! Now, look here. My name is not Karn and I'm not a professor.

I'm Inspector Teal of Scotland Yard and you can tell me everything.

-Of course I will. The Saint is...

-Well, here I am.

Somewhat the worse for wear.

-Oh, Saint, you're all right!

-Right as rain.

-I am glad, Sir.

-How nice of you, Horace.

-But you don't seem too overjoyed, Professor.

-Another five minutes

and I'd have had the whole story.

I didn't tell him anything though, did I, Inspector?

-So you're not the professor any more?

-No, I told her the truth.

-Would you like me to tell you the truth?

-That'll be a change.

-Remember our deal?

-Uh-huh.

Before this time tomorrow, I'm going to hand over to you the Tiger.

-I'll believe it when I see it.

-You'll see plenty.

Come on, Pat. I think it's time you were in bed.

I'm going to drive you home.

Look here, Templar.

I want to hear what's been going on tonight.

Of course you do. Do you think we ought to tell him?

You mean...everything?

-Would you mind?

-Oh, come on.

-Patience, little man.

You see, it was like this.

We were walking along a cliff...

In the beautiful moonlight.

Oh, for pete's sake. Are you crazy, or am I?

That's a leading question. I refuse to commit myself.

KNOCKING

-KNOCKING CONTINUES

-Who is it?

It's the police.

What have you been up to now, Templar?

Good evening.

Why, Mr Bittle.

I'm very sorry about this.

-Are you in on this, sir?

-I'm not involved. In any way.

I understand, sir.

That's your man, Constable.

Simon Templar, I'm arresting you for attempted robbery and assault.

-But I don't understand.

-It's too ridiculous.

Am I supposed to have done all that?

You struck him, shot at him

and stabbed him with a knife.

Dear, I must be slipping. I seem to have forgotten poison.

-What's your story, Bittle?

-I'd been having a nap.

I woke and found a man at my desk, rifling it.

He turned and fired. I grappled with him,

he struck me and I fell, stunned.

The next thing I remember,

he was slipping out the window.

I managed to follow him and saw him set off in this direction.

Then I went for the police.

-And here we are.

-So that's your story?

Poppycock, of course, Mr Bittle. Circumstantial and all that.

Very neat and almost credible piece of fiction.

-I'll have to ask you to come along with me, Mr Templar.

-I think not.

You see, fortunately, my good friend, Professor Karn,

can clear me. I'm sure he'll testify that he never saw me

-leave the house all evening.

-Is that so, Sir?

-Aye, that's true.

-Thank you, Professor.

You mean Templar didn't leave here all evening?

-You heard what I said.

-You can't tell me...

Your word's enough for me, sir. I'm sorry about this, Mr Templar.

It looks like a case of mistaken identity.

Eh, Mr Bittle?

Yeah, it must be.

Yeah, mistaken identity.

-I apologise. Good night.

-Hey, wait a minute.

-I want a word with you. Good night, sir.

-Good night.

Thanks to you for the alibi. Well, Pat.

It's true. I didn't see you leave. But where did you go?

-Yes, what did happen?

-What's been going on here?

That was a little trick of the Tiger's. A frame-up to get me out of the way.

I know, I know. But before that?

That's all I'm going to tell you tonight. Remember,

tomorrow you get the Tiger on a golden platter.

-You'll know all about everything then.

-All right.

-Tomorrow looks like a busy day.

-Yes, so we'd better get some sleep.

Come on, Pat. We drop you at the inn, Professor?

Thanks, it's been a bonny evening, but I prefer to walk. Good night.

-Thanks, Horace. You were swell.

-Thank you, Miss Pat.

Well, there it is, Pat. The whole, cock-eyed story.

It's the most exciting story I've ever heard and I'm in on it.

No, you're not, not any longer. It's far too serious.

But I'm serious, you promised me. You said we were in this together.

-Oh, I know I did.

-But you didn't mean it. Well, I did.

I'm in it and I'm going to stay in it. So there.

I'll provide you with invaluable female intuition.

-All right.

-What's our programme for tomorrow?

-Simple enough.

We've got to find £1 million in gold.

Easy. Where is it?

What does your female intuition say?

Around Baycombe?

Smugglers' caves!

You're wonderful.

But how do we get to them, you clever little thing?

They're supposed to be connected with Baycombe House.

-It used to be a monastery.

-Was it?

Trust those wise old monks

to find a back entrance for the brandy, somewhere.

-But who lives there now?

-Nobody.

It was turned into a local museum.

-Baycombe Museum? Where your friend, Merrydew, is the curator?

-Yes.

-He must know something about it.

-Then all roads lead to Merrydew.

First thing tomorrow morning, we'll beard him in his lair.

Well, there's the office and...

Attagirl.

We need all the luck we can get.

Now don't forget...

Mr Bentley, how you do get around!

Mr Bentley's our most generous benefactor.

One of my hobbies.

You must let Merrydew show you around the museum.

-It would be a pleasure.

-You'll find it well worthwhile.

I'm sure we shall.

Good morning.

-Where would you like to start?

-In your office, if you don't mind.

But of course, yes.

-If you didn't come to see the museum...

-Then why are we here?

Two words. Smugglers' cave.

All that talk was just talk.

You know, local gossip and that sort of thing.

I'm sorry I can't help you.

I think you'd better sit down, Pat.

-But I tell you...

-You're wasting your breath. Unless you start telling the truth.

-I'm afraid you'd better tell Mr Templar.

-Where's that entrance?

This is an outrage. I won't put up with this!

Sit down and don't be a fool.

You're running with crooks and murderers. They're using you.

They'll kill you to cover their tracks. You don't stand a chance.

But I'm giving you one, if you'll help me.

If you don't, your life isn't worth that.

But I...

-They can't!

-Oh yes, they can.

This is your only chance, Merrydew. Take it or leave it. Now...

Look here, honestly, I'm not one of their gang.

Bentley's been paying me,

but I didn't know a thing about the robbery.

Not till afterwards. Please help me to get out of this.

Where's that entrance?

I'll tell you.

It's here, in the museum.

It's right...

No! No!

HE SPLUTTERS

-Miss Gerten!

-Drat it.

I can't stop and chat, young man.

-What do you know about Merrydew?

-Worst bridge player in Cornwall

and you can tell him I said so.

I'm afraid I can't. He's just been murdered.

I've felt like doing it myself, often for overbidding his hand.

Sorry, I'm in a hurry.

-Why did the Saint do it?

-The Saint? Surely you don't...

-This is his knife, isn't it?

-But he didn't...

-Then who did?

-I don't know.

-Miss Holm, you've got yourself mixed up in a nasty mess.

I was just outside and no-one came near this room

and no-one came out of it, except Simon Templar.

-And what exactly does that prove to you?

-It pins it on you!

-It proves something else to me.

-What?

-Come now, Inspector.

You can't expect me to tell you everything! Scotland Yard pays you to do SOME thinking for yourself.

I've been thinking, Templar. And I'm arresting you for murder.

-But that's ridiculous!

-I'm blowed! Professor Karn, a detective!

What a story! A scoop of scoops!

Saint nabbed red-handed in museum murder. I can see the headlines.

I can't and you won't.

Not a word of this gets printed until I give it up myself.

-D'you understand?

-OK.

You're not under arrest, Miss Holm. But stay around Baycombe.

-We shall want to question you.

-I'll want to do a lot of answering!

I'm taking you to London, Templar.

-What?

-You're too big for local jails.

-Don't be a fool, Teal!

Too many people try to teach me my business. I know what I'm doing.

Don't worry, Pat. Someday, he may wake up.

-We can travel to London in your car, Templar.

-You're too kind.

It'll save you unkind publicity.

It'll save you the train fare!

I'll have the local priest take over here.

Look after Miss Holm, Tidemarsh, and remember.

No scoop!

-Teal, the human monkey wrench.

-Come on, Pat, I'll take you home.

Hello, yeah. This is Inspector Teal of Scotland Yard speaking.

Oh, cheer up, Pat! The Saint'll talk himself out of it.

Anyway, Teal or no Teal, the Gazette gets the scoop.

-Do you mind if I phone?

-If you know where it is?

-Thanks.

Oh, Miss Pat! Where's Mr Templar?

-I've some important news for him.

-He's on his way to London.

-To London? What happened?

-Inspector Teal arrested him for murder!

-Not Merrydew?

-Uh-huh. Somebody killed him!

-Dash it! I missed it again.

-Then, he wasn't joking?

-No.

-Oh!

-Auntie!

-Oh!

-Auntie!

It's just what we wanted.

Gives us time to turn around,

then we're both out of the way for at least 24 hours.

All right, I know. The boat's anchored in shore.

Everything's set, I tell you!

That's what you think.

What about the girl?

She knows enough to gum up the whole show.

Sure, you're always forgetting.

Now, shut up! Wait a minute! Let me think.

I should lie down, Auntie, you'll feel better.

Hope so, I've got such a lot to do.

Miss Pat? What'll we do now?

-The boat's here. I saw it anchored.

-What boat?

-Bentley's yacht.

Mr Templar was wondering when it might get here.

So, that's it! They're taking the gold away on that yacht!

-Yes. And he's not here to stop them.

-No, but we are.

-Miss Pat!

-We can try, can't we?

-Yes!

Hi, Horace.

-Well, Pat, that settles everything.

-Not quite everything.

-Tiddy, you've got to help me.

-Sure, Pat, anything.

Even a spot of piracy?

-Pat, are you kidding me?

-No, I'm not. Now listen to me.

The way he yaps at us, you'd think the Tiger was the whole show!

-But we do all the dirty work!

-And take all the chances!

I wonder what he'd feel like if somebody were to upset his applecart?

Well, why not?

So, we're going to do what Simon would have done

if it hadn't been for that fool inspector.

But Pat, the whole thing's crazy!

-Bentley and Bittle are respectable citizens.

-No, it isn't crazy.

Besides, think of the new headlines!

Yes, it would make a jolly good story. Hijacking a yacht.

-It'll be a sensation if we get away with it!

-Tiddy, you're an angel!

-All right, we'll meet, the three of us, at 10 o'clock.

-Yes, Miss Pat.

Of all your stupid blunders, this beats the lot!

You've been telling me for the past hour!

-Arresting you, Saint, even by mistake, is a pleasure.

-Shut up!

Pull in here.

HE LAUGHS

-What's the big idea?

-I'm stupid, am I?

-Then you knew all the time that I hadn't done it?

-Certainly!

Aye, you were priceless! It did my heart good to watch you burn!

-You'll never let me hear the last of this!

-Not if I can help it!

And remember, from now on, I'M in charge!

You know, we ought to have police help.

If you wanted a brass band and a reception committee.

Here, you can't break in! I'm an officer of the law!

A little honest burglary will do you good.

You oughtn't do this.

-If the Yard ever heard of this...

-Come on.

If we only had wings.

Even if your guess was right, it'd take us hours to find it.

-Well, don't worry, I know where to find it.

-Who told you?

-You did.

-Huh?

-When you said, "nobody came out of the office but me."

-Well...

-Are you pulling my leg again?

Mm-mm.

WHIRRING

-Well, I...

-All right, later, there isn't time now. Ready to go?

Aye, I'm right behind you.

HE CRIES OUT

Be careful, steps. Watch yours, Pavlova.

-What's this?

-The missing link, the smugglers' caves.

-Aye, then we've found the gold.

-Nice work, Inspector.

-He's let us down.

-Then we'll have to go without him.

FAINT VOICES

Well, I guess that's enough. Come on, boys.

WORKMEN SHOUT

-The gold.

-At least some of it.

-We've caught them red-handed.

-Yes, we have.

-I'll arrest them.

What, and lose the Tiger, eh?

They're loading the gold onto that yacht, that's where we'll find the boys who count.

-Bittle and Bentley, and the Tiger.

-You're right.

One of us will have to go back and warn the Coast Guard.

-Good idea, you go.

-And leave you here? Not on your Nelly.

One more carload, Paddy, and that will be the finish of them.

It will be the finish of me and my boat, so it will.

What do you think this is? The Queen Mary?!

THEY LAUGH

What's next?

-We wait for another load.

-And then?

You'll have another hunch.

You'd better let me go first.

-What?

-OK.

Here, tell Paddy to hurry with that last load of stuff, will you?

-The boss is burning, he wants to get underway.

-All right.

-We'll separate here.

-And slug anyone we meet.

-Without sneezing.

-Yes, sir.

-And don't leave any dead bodies lying around.

-No. Of course not.

-Well, that's the lot.

-Fine, I'm really glad to hear it.

-Enjoy your trip, Paddy.

-I will.

-Come on, fellas.

-Goodbye.

Aye, that settles you, Paddy.

He's double-crossed me!

-Aye-aye.

-OK, Paddy?

-Sure, let it come.

-Aye-aye.

Woah.

DOOR OPENS

BANGING AND SCUFFLING

Got her filled, Paddy?

-Sure, and be careful, it's an extra valuable load you get this time.

-OK.

Bring her up, Jim.

Hey, you, this message just came aboard, get it to the boss, quick.

Aye-aye, sir.

MUFFLED CRY

MUFFLED CRY

You dea... HE GROANS

Well, I don't know who started all of this,

but it's certainly a good idea.

Well, Burton...

Never mind, I'll see your boss gets his supper.

Well, I'll be...

Mr Templar.

Do you mind telling me why you're on this boat?

I expect, young man, for the same reason that you are. Roulette.

-Roulette?

-Yes, of course for quick action I prefer Shimmy,

but this looked like my chance to recoup,

so I accepted Mr Bentley's invitation.

I didn't get one.

-Horace, what's that?

-You shouldn't leave them lying about!

He's not mine. Must be one of yours.

Do you think I don't know my own bodies?

Either we're very forgetful, or we have rivals onboard.

MAN GROANS

Hi, it's Bertie. How nice. Where do I find the Tiger?

-What?

-The Tiger. Where's his cabin?

I don't know. Oh, not again, not again!

-Come on now.

-He's in the cabin on the upper deck.

Take him out of sight somewhere. I'll be on the upper deck.

Come on. Inside, Lug. Come on. Make it snappy.

Drop that gun.

-Wise girl, Pat.

-Quite the little heroine, eh.

-I came here to meet the Tiger.

-Well, you won't find him here.

No, we persuaded him a sea trip would be bad for his health.

Foolish of you to join us, but very charming of you, my dear.

We really had rotten luck. We couldn't seem to pick a winner.

But you kept playing the races?

Only the ponies. Merrydew suspected that the dogs are a racket.

-And the late lamented Joe Gallo was your London bookie?

-Yes.

Then we won a lot of money on a terrific long shot.

-Then Joe let us down.

-You mean he let himself get murdered?

Well, it wasn't quite honest of him. We never got our money.

Joe was nearly frantic, we didn't know what to do.

-And so you decided to take a chance on Bentley's roulette?

-Yes.

-I do wish he'd get started.

-Well, I'll see what I can do about it.

Hey, mister?

-Oh, Horace!

-What, Mr Templar! But you're in London?

Just another rumour, Horace.

-Well, we came aboard...

-"We?" Who's "we".

-And tell Captain Max to come here right away.

-I'll get him.

So now we start our little cruise.

I hope that before we reach Cape Town, we shall be real friends.

Who the blazes?

-Where did this come from?

-One of the crew brought it in for you.

Did you do this?

-TEMPLAR:

-No, I did.

I'm sorry to arrive uninvited, but this is not a social call.

-I'm so glad, Simon.

-Thank you, Pat.

But I don't think our friends here quite share your enthusiasm.

Drop it, Saint. SHE GASPS

Smart work, Eddie. Get under way at once, Max.

Aye-aye, sir.

All I seem to do is pick up artillery.

Deserting Baycombe, eh? Inspector Teal won't like that, you know.

Where is he?

Gathering bunches of big, bad policeman. He should be along any minute now.

-He'll be too late. We're sailing.

-Hmm, maybe.

We'll sail all right, Templar,

but I'm afraid you won't be with us for long.

-Counting your chickens again, eh, Bentley?

-MECHANICAL GRINDING

Uh-uh. Sailing indefinitely postponed.

Maybe the engineer couldn't cope with his engine, without his Pat.

On account of engine trouble.

It's no good, sir. The oil pump's jammed.

Maggie, is that what I did with my little monkey wrench?

-Why, you...!

-Now, don't lose your temper.

Max, get on with the repairs.

We can't find the engineer, sir.

HORACE LAUGHS

Try Cabin Number Ten.

He's sleeping like a baby...only his face is redder.

-Get to work. See to it, Eddie.

-Right.

Well, I bet I miss that dip in the ocean you promised me.

You'd lose, Templar.

Not another murder, Bentley.

This...is the finish.

GUNSHOT, GROANING

-TIDEMARSH: Drop that gun, Bittle.

-Hooray, Old Stop-Press Tidemarsh!

-My Tiddy!

-Don't move, any of you.

So YOU'RE The Tiger.

-Yes.

-But you're licked.

Not yet. I've got the gold on the yacht.

And I'm going to finish this little job alone.

-How about your friends here?

-They're through, they're all washed up.

They tried to double-cross me, the rats.

Well, now it's your turn to look in the small end of a gun.

I've no grudge against you, Saint. You play hard but you play fair.

So get ashore with your friends - while I settle with mine.

Thanks, Tidemarsh, I almost wish you could get away with it.

We'd have made a great team, Saint. You and I.

GUNSHOT

AGONISED GROAN

Please make a move, just a small one. I'm dying to plug two skunks.

Poor, mad Tiddy.

Now that'll be Teal. He's missed the bus again. Watch them, Horace.

-If they move a hand, they'd lose a head.

-Come on.

Uh-uh!

Search the ship. Hey, Templar. You've tricked me again.

-No, I kept my promise.

-The Tiger?

-Yes, he's dead.

But there's a couple of live murderers you can have.

-What about the gold?

-That's for me.

-Hey, but you can't do that!

-Oh, don't be childish. I made a deal with the insurance company.

-What?

20% commission for finding their gold.

They're sending for it tomorrow. Now, will you take over, Teal?

-I want to send Horace ashore with Pat.

-All right.

You're not coming ashore?

Well, I'm going to finish the job - and annoy Teal.

-Pat, you've been swell.

-I'll see you again, won't I?

-Tomorrow for lunch?

Lovely, and after that?

Well, halfway around the world there's a big, fat crook

with far too much money and I'm going to have lots of fun with him.

Well, if ever you want a cottage with a thatched roof,

-furnished with earwigs and spiders...

-I'll know where to come.

-Thanks, Pat...for everything.

-How about me, sir?

Of course, you're wonderful but you don't get kissed.

Oh, yes, he does!

GUNSHOT

THEY LAUGH

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd