The Beast with Five Fingers Page #3

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there are certain people in San Stefano

who consider me slightly eccentric.

Perhaps they're right.

Hilary... you've been my secretary

for the last 20 years.

Could you testify that I was

always thinking rationally.

There's no question about that.

Julie, you of all people

know me well.

I engaged you to look after me.

And you have become my friend.

Have you ever heard me

say anything irresponsible?

- Think!

- No, Mr Ingram.

If you had to swear to it.

I don't think that question

would ever be asked.

- Answer me!

- Yes, Mr Ingram, I would swear to it.

Mr Duprex...

You've just listened to the people

who have known me best...

Now your testimony

is of the greatest importance.

What's your impression of me?

I've no doubt you're able to think

as clearly as anyone in this room.

None of us have ever doubted

your mental health Mr Ingram.

I'm glad you all agree with me.

Duprex...

Bruce...

Hilary...

I want you to sign this document,

as witnesses.

But what is it? I'd like to read it

before signing.

It's my will.

My last will and testament.

I hope my signature

doesn't spoil its validity.

Will you kindly sign please.

To make a will

is to think of death.

And to think of death

is to anticipate the end.

Don't be alarmed... although I think of it,

I don't anticipate it yet.

Julie will you be kind enough

to take me into the hall.

Yes, Mr Ingram.

Come with me... all of you.

So you're going away, Julie.

Yes... how did you know?

There are 3 kinds of communication...

Telegraph, telephone,

and the Commissario.

The Commissario of course,

is the fastest.

Didn't you want me to know?

Yes, I would have told you,

but until I'd spoken to Francis...

Why speak to Francis?

I don't understand.

Go abruptly, suddenly...

without warning, without goodbyes.

I couldn't do that...

it isn't fair.

"Fair"? Has he been fair to you?

Yes, he's been fair.

But that isn't why I'm leaving.

I know Julie... you're afraid.

He's holding you with his pain

and his helplessness.

He draws his energy

from your life.

He'll never let you go.

But I MUST go!

But I can't leave

without telling him.

It's your only chance.

He's had his life.

You have a right to yours.

But I thought you were

his friend.

Yes... But I'm thinking of you.

For him I have only pity.

For you, something quite different.

You might not even believe me.

Tell me.

I love you Julie.

Why shouldn't I believe you?

Perhaps because I don't

believe in myself.

And because I'm urging you to go...

away from him and away from me.

And you'd stay here.

When I first heard Francis Ingram

in his New York recitals...

...long before I ever

came to know him...

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