Otley Page #3

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Yes. I've got nothing to hide.

Come on, upstairs.

You haven't even made your bed yet.

He was making coffee

when I last saw him.

The next thing I know I was

being run down by an aeroplane

at Gatwick bloody airport,

and I'd lost a bloody Sunday.

I was supposed to be playing

football Sunday and all.

Big match. Against Young's Potted Shrimps.

Bet we got hammered.

Door, Jean!

Door!

- Jean?

- Get it for me, would you, Gerry?

- Yes?

- Gerald Arthur Otley?

Not necessarily.

We must ask you to accompany us.

They're here.

About bloody time and all.

Who's "they"?

Shut your face, Wotley.

Otley. There's no 'W'.

It's just 'Otley'.

You can call me Wotley.

I hope this doesn't take long.

I think I've got a cold coming.

In fact I think it's flu.

You can tell.

That draught from that door.

When I get home I'm going to

get straight into a nice hot bath.

- How do you think I feel?

- Shut your face, Wotley.

- Ah, coffee! Good.

- Soup, sir.

- Has he had some?

- No, sir.

Well, I expect you could

do with a nice hot drink, Mr Otley?

Yes, please, sir.

Cheers.

Mmm, oxtail.

Er, could I have my shoes back?

My feet are like ice.

No, not yet.

A few questions.

I'd like to ask you a few questions.

But you ask your questions first.

Thank you.

Were you paid to kill Lambert?

- What?

- You killed Lambert. Who for?

I didn't kill Lambert.

I don't know anything about who did.

I don't know anything since Saturday night.

I was at this party. She was there.

You were there, weren't you?

Then I went back to Lambert's place.

Since then I've been to

Gatwick Airport, lost a Sunday,

I was having a shave,

and he hit me in the stomach.

And... well, you know.

Who do you work for?

I'm not working, I'm out of...

well, I'm self-employed.

Oh, you mean you work for anybody?

- What?

- Do you work for Proudfoot?

- Who?

- Philip Proudfoot.

- Do you know who ICS are?

- I've never heard of them.

Unless you mean the

Ipswich Co-operative Society.

- Well, what do you think?

- I think it's clear.

- Let's leave it at that then.

- I'd better make sure.

- Alone at last.

- Please, no more party patter.

Madam, when I

approached you the other night,

it wasn't your body I was after,

merely a room for the evening.

Will, er... this take long?

It depends on Mr Hendrickson.

Oh, old fleecy-lined?

Thing is, I've got

me driving test Saturday.

- Oh, really?

- Yes, I failed it the first time.

I cocked up the hill start.

Still, I should be all right Saturday.

The test's in Acton.

I mean, there aren't any

hills in Acton, are there?

Right.

All right.

Yes, that was a little bit

careless of you, wasn't it?

Still, it's nice to see some sign

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