Fragment of Fear

---

for nearly thirty years. She was a remarkable woman. Yes, I was beginning

to think so myself. In fact, almost the last thing

i said to her was, er... "Let me write a book about you." It'd make a wholesome change

from my last. A criminal kills a charitable old lady

who spent her life helping criminals. It's ironical, isn't it? It's a matter for the police. Well, the one who took my statement I think asked me three questions,

and yawned in my face. Come back to the hotel, mr Brett. No, I think I'll stay here

for a bit, thank you. Mr Brett? What are you doing now? -L'm thinking, love.

- Well, you're ruining your watch. Oh. Damn the Italian police! A whole bloody week

and they got nowhere. You see, if she'd been robbed,

i could understand it. But there is just no reason.

There is no reason. That's a very pretty mat

you're making. It's for a church sale. Yes, she told me she was

very interested in charities. We were both interested

in helping the fallen. Tell me, did she ever mention

or did she ever know a group, or a society called

the stepping stones? I've seen the rolling stones

on television, of course. They don't seem to need helping. But stepping stones, no.

I don't recollect it. Well, they sent flowers

to her funeral. Really? The only other flowers,

apart from signor bardoni's and mine. There was also a card,

which said, er... "Ln memories of happier times". Mrs Dawson's happiest times were always spent in

the exercise of good works. Well, she should have

reaped a better reward. We must, in charity,

assume that her assassin didn't know what sort

of woman he was killing. I'm not so sure. I beg your pardon? When I made my statement

to the Italian police, they asked me a question. And what was that, mr Brett? Well, they found this map

Rate this script:(0.00 / 0 votes)