The Scapegoat Page #2

- What do you mean?

- Anything's possible.

The throne's empty.

No-one's in charge.

- To anarchy.

- To anarchy.

- Is that Daddy's plate?

- I hardly touched it.

He'll be cross with you.

I know.

Give me the pieces

and I'll tell him it was me.

Then he'll be cross with you.

I think there's a place in town

where we can get it mended,

then he'll never know at all.

Of course Plato believed that

every man was split in half

by Zeus so he couldn't

compete with the gods,

which means everyone has

a twin somewhere in the world.

It's just a question of looking for them.

- You're not a professor, are you?

- Teacher. Er... ex-teacher.

Oh, what time is it?

I have to go to the station.

We've got plenty of time. Anyway, all your things

are at the pub. We left them there.

- Sir! Your coats, sir!

- Oh, yes. Well done.

Thank you. That's mine.

That's his.

- I can't wear this.

- Of course you can.

I haven't worn one of these

since I was ten.

Look at that, perfect fit.

Could have been made for you.

What was that you said

about the gods?

When they keep us apart, we're nothing,

but together, we can rule the world.

- Well, what's the verdict?

- There isn't one.

- What do you mean?

- Exactly that. We haven't heard. He's disappeared.

He checked out of his club in London

yesterday morning.

He was booked on the 12:15. George met the train.

He wasn't on it or the next three.

And he didn't telephone the house?

If we're to keep to the plan,

I should issue notices this morning.

- It's going to be a hell of a business.

- Yes, I know that, Arthur!

But now we just have to wait.

I can't give the authorisation without him.

You know what my brother's like.

It's ridiculous, this rule about not

having a fire in the morning.

Why economise on wood

when we live in a forest?

Perhaps you'd have a word

with Charlotte?

And have her give me one of her looks?

No thank you.

Anyway, it's your responsibility.

- I've had some fresh toast made for you, Miss Spence.

- Thank you, Charlotte.

Mr Spence has just telephoned from a

public house in Peterborough.

- What's he doing there?

- It's a bit early, even for Johnny.

He had to stay the night there.

He was feeling indisposed.

Did he say anything

about the contract?

No.

Will that be all, Mrs Spence?

Er... yes, Charlotte. Thank you.

He won't be back for hours now.

Inconsiderate bastard.

Who is... Who is it?

It's me, sir. George.

Oh, my God...

I'm... I'm sorry, who is it?

Could you please open the door, sir?

It's locked.

Perhaps you might consider

unlocking it, sir.

No, it...

Um... I...

- I think you must have the wrong room.

- We'll have you out of here in a jiffy, sir.

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