A Cruel Love: The Ruth Ellis Story (2025) s01e03 Episode Script

1
(sombre music playing)
I've been doing this for a week
and not making any headway.
(Joy) Should've started
with the corners.
(Ruth) Thank you, Joy.
(seller) Morning news!
Get your news here!
Morning news! Morning news!
Get your news here! Morning news!
(bell rings)
(Bickford) They've given us a date.
(Ruth) For Mr Pierrepoint's
little visit, yes.
12 days. And we can expect
the Home Secretary's decision
a couple of days before.
- Decision?
- (Bickford) On whether to reprieve,
postpone,
or even cancel your death sentence.
Now a letter from you
would be an enormous help,
requesting compassion,
expressing, if not remorse,
then at least regret.
I don't regret.
I won't lie,
and I certainly won't beg.
Nothing will be sent
to the Home Office.
No appeal,
no attempt at a reprieve.
"And thine eyes shall not pity,
but life shall go for life,
eye for eye, tooth for tooth".
All I want is justice for David.
(music concludes)
I'm due at the Home Office
in 72 hours to submit her case.
The Secretary of State will make
his decision over the weekend.
- What are you using?
- (Bickford) For the appeal?
Her alcoholism
and a mental breakdown, perhaps.
(groans)
You're not thinking of using him?
Ah, yes Desmond Cussen.
Look, dragging him in now
will just make it look
even more premeditated.
Not if he solicited her to murder.
Desmond Cussen
was an RAF bomber pilot.
You know the casualty rate
of bomber crews?
Only one in four
made it through the war.
So, we let him get away with murder
because he was a war hero?
(Stevenson)
No doubt he made mistakes.
Getting too close
to a woman like Ellis, for one.
Not that I'm judging her, but
(sighs)
the world is the way it is,
John.
I could take this
to the Home Office right now.
And tell them what?
That you allowed
your client to perjure herself?
Well, I could take it
to the newspapers.
And what a sheer
bloody spectacle that would be!
You're like me, John.
We're both scholarship boys.
(laughs dryly)
We both know the price of admission
for boys like us.
Ah
I know all right. Discretion.
And never,
ever frighten the horses.
That's why you brought me here,
isn't it?
To show me what I could win
if I'm a good little chap
and don't rock the boat.
But your problem is, I don't care
about being part of the club,
one of the chaps.
You think this is all real.
That it matters.
This is nonsense!
That trial was a pantomime,
all of you
in your costumes and wigs.
- Absolute meaningless nonsense!
- Steady, Bickford.
Right now, I feel like I could blow
this whole thing up,
and damn the consequences.
You really think
you can take them all on and win?
(sombre music playing)
(Stevenson)
You concealed material facts.
You made yourself
an accessory to murder.
Now, you can destroy yourself
and her,
or you can take
her one chance at a reprieve.
For her sake, and yours,
go for madness.
(Bertha) But she isn't mad!
(Bickford) Mental strain,
exacerbated by the miscarriage
and her alcoholism.
She won't like it.
It's the best case we have
for mercy.
What about Desmond Cussen?
I think Ruth, herself, is where
we should concentrate our efforts.
Jackie Dyer's gone to the police.
She's made a statement
about the gun and the cab
that Desmond used to drive.
Why aren't we using that?
Don't badger the man, Muriel.
There's something
he's not telling us.
I can assure you
it's all been looked into.
- Now, if you'll excuse me
- Why aren't we using Cussen?
(knock on door)
Mr Cussen? DCI Davies, Met Police.
Can we have a word?
So, you've no idea why this woman,
Jacqueline Dyer,
has made these claims?
I suppose a misguided attempt
to help Mrs Ellis.
Who's made no effort whatsoever
to help herself.
Mrs Ellis has made our job
extremely easy.
It's as open and shut a case
as I ever saw.
And she hasn't fought it. Why?
She's a young mother,
no criminal record.
Every reason to ask for mercy,
but she hasn't.
She is going like a lamb
to slaughter.
(Morris) I know you've been letting
Blakely drink for free for months.
You let him destroy this club
and make fools of both of us.
I'm gonna need the flat back.
You're sacking me?
I'll give you
till the end of the week.
I've got nowhere to go.
(Morris) We can work something out.
You know I'll always
look after you, Ruthie.
- (yelps)
- You will never touch me again.
(fork clatters)
(Mishcon) I'm afraid the divorce
settlement from George Ellis
- leaves you with
- Bugger all. I know.
Unless you want to take
Mr Ellis to court,
which I would still strongly urge
you to consider.
- No, thank you, Mr Mishcon.
- Well
one signature, and you are
very nearly a free woman.
So, what are you going to do
with your liberty?
(Ruth) Look for a place to live,
find a job. Thank you.
Mrs Ellis
do you have somewhere to stay?
I have a friend.
Ruth
you have a little boy.
(Joy) Mrs Ellis
are you all right?
Can you please turn the light off,
Joy? I can't sleep.
I'm sorry. You know
I'm not allowed to do that.
(electrical buzzing)
(Ruth) No more hostessing.
I'll get a job in an office.
I've already taken up a course
of French lessons.
I've always wanted to talk dirty
in two languages.
I'm moving in with Desmond.
What?
Temporarily,
just while I look for a job.
Why didn't you ask
if you could move in with me?
What happened?
I said why didn't you ask
if you can move in with me?
Because you live with your parents.
Since you're too spineless
to admit my existence
Is it any wonder I lose my rag
when you push me like this?
Take your hands off me.
I said take your hands off me, now.
I am moving in with Desmond
because I have a son
who needs a roof over his head,
and I've already given up
one child for you.
Let me know when you've got
the balls
to introduce me to your mother.
(electrical buzzing)
(Ruth) Excuse me.
May I have the bill, please?
Sleep with him again,
and I swear I'll kill both of you.
Thank you.
(Jacqueline) Reprieve Ruth Ellis!
Reprieve Ruth Ellis!
Sign the petition to prevent
- a miscarriage of justice.
- (passerby) No, thank you.
- Reprieve Ruth Ellis.
- No, no.
- (Jayveer) I'll sign it.
- (Jacqueline) Oh, thank you.
It's barbaric,
what they're doing to her.
- I just want to save my friend.
- (Jayveer) I might be able to help.
I understand you've given
a new statement to the police.
- You're a journalist!
- Jayveer Sethia.
I hear they've taken
someone in for questioning
about the black cab and the gun.
Have they made an arrest?
(Jayveer) The people
are on her side, Mrs Dyer.
If we make enough noise,
we can stop this.
But I need to know
who she's keeping out of this.
Whoever it is,
the police knew about him already.
They took a statement from
Ruth's French teacher weeks ago,
who said she knew
who gave Ruth the gun.
I've been looking for her
so I can get his name,
but the police
they've known all along.
(music fades)
(Desmond) Ruth?
I hope you like lamb chops
and new potatoes.
(jazz music plays)
Bollocks to love!
You're not in love.
How would you know?
You've never been in it.
No, thank God!
Biggest con ever pulled.
Bit of pillow talk,
then 60 years of ironing his pants!
What about you and Cooch?
A diamond like that,
he wants something in return.
Yes, and he gets it!
My body, my smile, but not my soul.
He knows that. Your trouble is,
you let them in here.
David's passionate,
and I give as good as I get.
You deserve better.
I'd die of boredom.
If you could be anywhere,
doing anything right now,
what would it be?
Driving a big fuck-off silver
Cadillac down Sunset Boulevard.
Ooh, hello, Hollywood!
Always fancied America.
Big cars, big, open roads.
Well, we could do it, you know.
We should! Why not? Let's just book
the tickets, and let's do it.
- Oh.
- Hmm.
Right, well,
at least screw someone, then!
(jazz music continues)
(ladies giggle)
- Whoo!
- (Vicki humming)
- (Jackie giggles)
- (Vicki humming)
Oh! Ooh!
(muffled jazz music continues)
Christ, you're pretty!
It's fine.
(music concludes)
(Desmond) Here she is.
Good morning, Ruth.
Your French tutor's here.
She's been here for half an hour.
I'm so sorry. If you could
just give me one minute.
Just one minute. Sorry.
(tutor clears throat)
(knocks on door)
Everything all right?
Fine. I stayed at Jackie's.
You know what the girls are like.
(door slams)
(pigeons coo)
Terrible racket.
We have the same problem at home.
Filthy pigeons!
You need to borrow this.
(gasps)
Ruth's French tutor saw it
in his desk
and gave a sworn statement
that she could identify
the gun in court.
I believe she saw a starter pistol,
that Mr Cussen kept in his flat.
She saw a large revolver.
A starter pistol
that Cussen surrendered
to us freely for examination.
As to the taxicab, he said he gave
that to his brother last year.
Months before Mrs Ellis committed
the murder.
Couldn't possibly have driven her
to the Magdala.
- (bell rings)
- Have you verified that?
We interviewed Mr Cussen at length
as to your claims.
(scoffs)
Everything I told you,
you already knew.
I understand you wanna help
your friend, and that is admirable.
But nothing you can do can change
the fact
Mrs Ellis murdered David Blakely
in cold blood.
Hey, you want her dead, all of you.
I want justice
for Blakely's family.
(Jacqueline) It stinks, Ruth.
The whole thing stinks.
The police have covered things up,
evidence that would
have helped you,
- that linked Cussen to the gun.
- I said I didn't
want you going to the police.
If his involvement was known,
it would mean a retrial at least.
Desmond is innocent.
Then why hasn't he visited you once
since the trial?
Jackie.
If it came out,
everything would change.
People are on your side, Ruth.
They're getting angry.
All the people I've spoken
to agree.
What people?
I've been campaigning for you
a petition.
- What?
- And these are letters of support.
Jackie, I told you
I told I didn't want this.
I don't want people out there,
begging for me.
People feel for you, Ruth.
They feel
They feel pity!
I would rather them think I was
a cold-hearted murdering bitch
with no regrets.
- But that's not who you are.
- (Ruth) Isn't it?
Perhaps it's just easier
for you to think that.
"Oh, poor little Ruth.
David mistreated her so terribly,
she lost her mind.
She had no choice."
I chose to make him die
on the ground in front of me.
(Jacqueline) Maybe it's easier
for you to think that,
to make yourself believe
you deserve it.
- But that's the coward's way out
- (Ruth) Get out!
to give up rather than fighting.
Get out, and don't visit me again!
They're going to kill you, Ruth,
and you're just as bad as them
- for letting it
- How dare you! Get out!
And take those fucking things
with you! Get out!
(sombre music playing)
(Jayveer)
This is bigger than her now.
It's about Timothy Evans
and Derek Bentley.
It's about the whole business
of whether the state should go on
merrily hanging people,
only to later discover
that maybe they weren't guilty.
The Government is nervous.
They've promised law and order.
But the abolitionists are knocking
at the gates.
And then, what's next?
The homosexuals? The abortionists?
So that's why they want her dead.
I just need a name.
But if no one will help her
and she won't help herself
Then you have to.
(dial tone beeps)
- Desmond Cussen.
- (editor) Ruth Ellis's lover?
Gave her the gun,
drove her to the scene
of the murder in a black cab.
Her friend, Jacqueline Dyer,
is certain.
Yeah, well, our libel lawyers are
busy enough, son.
She hangs in ten days!
Yeah, bound to be reprieved,
90 percent of women are.
(Jayveer) And what if she's not,
and Desmond Cussen
gets away with it?
Thirty-million newspapers bought
every Sunday in this country.
Bought for two reasons,
sex and hanging.
You're not here to fight crime,
you're here to sell it.
Come back to me with proof,
and we can talk.
(disconnect tone)
(music fades)
Hello. Yes, I'm calling about
my son, Andre Ellis.
I want to check his school fees
for the term have been paid.
(tense music playing)
Right.
Thank you. I'll make sure a cheque
is sent as soon as possible.
Ruth let me look after you all.
(electrical buzzing)
(Ruth) You will look after him,
you promise?
Whatever happens,
you will look after him?
- (Desmond) I swear it.
- (Ruth) You will look after him.
(Desmond) I swear it.
(Ruth) You will look after him,
you promise?
I swear it.
(electrical buzzing continues)
(Desmond)
I was thinking about a holiday,
get Andre out of London.
Scotland, I thought.
I could teach him to fish.
- David would lose his mind.
- (soft jazz music playing)
Let me deal with him.
It's a Christmas present
since you got me
this exquisite tie.
(chuckles)
- Is it same again?
- Please.
(David) Merry Christmas, Ruth.
(music turns tense)
(soft jazz music continues)
What are you doing here?
I haven't slept with him, if that's
what you're worried about.
Look at you.
Drunk whilst your son is alone
at home on Christmas night.
- You're an embarrassment.
- (Desmond) What are you doing here?
(ominous music playing)
I'm wishing Merry Christmas
to my fiancée.
Hmm. Let go of her.
(scoffs)
You have no idea, do you
what she really thinks about you,
the contempt she feels for you?
- (quietly) Stop.
- (Desmond) You little bastard.
- (glass clinks)
- Outside now!
(scoffs) "Outside"?
(Desmond grunting)
How about hitting a man
instead of a woman, for once?
- It's over, you and Ruth. You lost.
- (both panting)
(melancholic music playing)
(phone clicks)
(ring tone)
(both kissing, breathing deeply)
I know you're bored
out of your skull with him.
This is what you need.
This is who you are.
(electrical buzzing)
Please.
Please turn the light off.
(music intensifies, fades)
(keys turn in lock)
Is it true that you have all been
campaigning for me?
I told you, no begging,
no pleading.
You've seen
what they've written about you?
(Ruth)
I don't care what they write.
I want my sentence
to take its course.
You will not go to the Home Office.
I will not die
with this world thinking
I am some beaten little fool!
- Well, that's it, then.
- (Ruth) That is justice.
An eye for an eye,
as I have said from the start.
(sombre music playing)
An eye for an eye.
Yes. You know (sighs)
I was in Austria
just after the war.
I was a prosecutor
in the British zone,
and I prosecuted
a young German soldier.
His unit had been moving
Hungarian Jews
in what later became called
the death marches.
And these prisoners were exhausted,
barely able to walk
and he was ordered
to shoot anyone that fell.
And at first, he refused,
but eventually, he shot two men.
And after the war,
we tried him for murder,
and we hanged him.
One week after he committed
those crimes,
in March 1945,
the Soviets liberated Vienna.
They were out for revenge,
many drunk, terrorising the city.
Perhaps 100,000 women were raped.
Not one single charge
was brought against any of them
because they were on our side.
Justice isn't real, Ruth.
It's a story written
by the winners.
I'm not certain of much but
I know you don't deserve to die
for what you did.
(Ruth breathing heavily)
(door unlocks)
(Ruth) You will look after him,
you promise, whatever happens?
I swear it, yes.
(Ruth) John.
He made certain promises.
Desmond?
He promised to look after Andre.
I don't think he's going to.
I told you he gave me the gun.
Perhaps it's time to use that.
We can't. You know we can't.
It's too late.
But you told me
you wanted me to tell them.
Ruth, the better way
is to go for the violence,
your miscarriage
what David did to you,
the child you would have had.
(music fades)
I think I'm pregnant.
It's only a couple of weeks,
but I can feel it.
(sighs, quietly) Oh Christ.
I'll call Dr Jameson,
make an appointment.
It's really no worse
than getting a tooth out.
(water runs)
I don't want you to get rid of it.
- Don't you?
- But no more Desmond Cussen.
(emotional music playing)
We find somewhere to live
as a family.
And we visit my mother
tell her we're getting married.
Well, all right, then.
(both chuckle softly)
I still don't understand
why you can't stay here with me.
(Ruth) Well, if you and I
are to have a future together,
I need to build up
my own life first, my independence,
a home for Andre.
I've found a bedsitting room.
It's cheap.
Look, I know how much
I've already asked of you.
How much do you need?
(music concludes)
(Bickford)
We would like the Home Secretary
to consider provocation
in the case of Ruth Ellis.
She was suffering enormously
at the time of the offence.
She'd had a miscarriage,
caused by Blakely's violence.
It wasn't fully explored at trial.
And there's a petition.
There's 50,000 signatories,
from Australia, America,
France, Germany.
And, er, hundreds of letters.
I hope the Home Secretary
will consider them.
(Allen) Well, they're not all
in Mrs Ellis's favour.
"I am married to a woman
similar in nature to Ruth Ellis,
eaten up with jealousy
through and through."
"I greatly fear that
my future safety would be at stake
if you granted a reprieve".
And many women express concern
that clemency should not be granted
merely because she is female.
I hope the Home Secretary
will concentrate on the facts.
The facts are simple.
Mrs Ellis committed
a firearms murder in cold blood.
There may have been other factors.
Such as?
She will not act to save herself.
(sombre music playing)
She will not let me act
to help her.
She practically wouldn't let me
bring her case in front of you.
She's determined to die
because she feels
like her life is not worth saving.
You must act now,
in the name of justice,
in the name of mercy.
She will hang in five days.
I just need more time.
For God's sake,
a a bit more time.
(hesitates)
Forgive me, sir, I
(glass clinks)
I'm sorry.
I will speak to the Home Secretary.
He's not without compassion.
Quite the opposite.
Have you heard of a woman
called Sarah Lloyd?
Who?
She's a woman on death row
at Strangeways.
She was convicted for the murder
of an elderly neighbour
with a shovel.
Due to be hanged in two days,
but Lloyd George
has just reprieved her.
Provocation over time wasn't
a factor in her conviction,
but it has been a factor
in her reprieve.
So, that's good, isn't it?
Well, it could be bloody brilliant.
God! And it all belongs
to your parents?
- (music concludes)
- (David) Yes, all theirs.
Well, it's a bit suburban, really.
Still, it's nice
to have the tennis courts.
(chuckles softly)
Are you nervous?
- A bit.
- Well, I tell you what.
Let's go grab a drink first, hmm?
All right.
(church bell rings)
(Ruth) Your friends are here!
(David) We often drink here
on Sundays,
then roll up at my parents',
demanding roast beef.
Look, just a quick one, promise.
- (Carole) Oh, here he is. Hello!
- (Ant) David!
(David) Well, I thought
I'd come a bit early.
(Anthony) Hello, how was the drive?
(David) Oh, it was all right.
And the maître d' says to him
(in French accent)
"I'm sorry, sir,
but these tables are reserved
for the race car drivers."
(in normal voice) And Ant
just looks at him and says,
"Now, look here, old chap,
we are the bloody race"
(both) "Now,
bring us some Champagne!"
(men laugh)
(David)
You would have been so proud.
Have you been to Le Mans?
No, I've never been to France.
I've never actually been abroad.
Oh, perhaps he'll take you,
for your honeymoon.
Well, he told us. Congratulations.
Come on, a toast.
For the soon-to-be
Mr and Mrs David Blakely!
(group) Cheers.
(Anthony) Mr and Mrs David Blakely.
(Ant) And you'd better make sure
you take the bins out on time,
or she'll be sending the gangsters
round to make sure you do!
(men laugh)
- What?
- (sighs)
(Ruth) Come along, we should go.
We don't want
to keep your mother waiting.
Yes, quite right.
Mustn't keep Annie waiting.
No, I tell you what.
Why don't I go and get her
and bring her back
for a G&T before lunch, hmm?
- Well, no, I'll come.
- No, no, you stay here, have fun.
(sombre music playing)
I'm sorry about all that.
They can be so childish.
What did they mean,
about the gangsters?
When David was attacked
he had this idea,
perhaps it was just a joke,
that you sent the men to do it.
It wasn't me!
David's no angel.
God knows he deserves
a black eye now and then.
He'll never introduce you
to his mother, you know.
We're getting married.
We're actually
We're actually having a baby.
(Carole) No, you're having a baby.
It's not a judgement,
simply a fact.
David will never truly know
if the baby is his.
Did he say that?
(Carole)
I'm not trying to be cruel.
What you and David have,
it isn't love.
It's a trap, for both of you,
and my advice is, get out now.
(Anthony) David!
Didn't your mother fancy a drink?
(David) Er, no,
she was she was busy.
You're a cruel little coward,
David.
I'll drive you back to London.
(music fades)
- Thank you.
- Least I could do.
I've got a bottle of gin inside,
if you want to come in for a drink.
- How far along are you, anyway?
- About six weeks.
Gosh!
The taste of gin would have
made me heave at six weeks.
Strong stomach.
Ruth!
Ruth the evening paper's in.
I'm so sorry.
It's your friend, Vicki.
(dramatic music playing)
(key turns in lock)
Mrs Ellis, the decision's in
from the Home Secretary
on your reprieve.
(suspenseful music playing)
"I have been pressed,
from many quarters,
to exercise clemency
in this case
on the grounds of
the prisoner's sex,
and of her yielding to jealousy,
which is alleged, by some people,
to be stronger in women
than in men".
(music fades)
(David)
Are you going to get up today?
(glass clinks)
(David) It was Vicki's
13th accident in four years.
When your time's up, it's up.
(ominous music playing)
Where have you been?
If you must know,
I stayed at Carole and Ant's.
Of course you did.
(David) You haven't been
to the doctor
about your pregnancy yet, have you?
- (Ruth) Not yet.
- You should be, what
ten weeks now?
I spoke to Carole about it all.
She said
your symptoms are all wrong,
that it's all very convenient,
forcing us to get married.
And I think she's right.
It's not just the accent,
the hair that's fake, is it?
You're not really pregnant,
are you?
What?
(Charity) "There may be
circumstances, in a capital case
where special conditions apply
to a woman,
which would not be applicable
in the case of a man."
"One recent example is that
of Mrs Sarah Lloyd."
"I can find no such
special circumstances, however,
in the present case".
After everything I've done for you.
Brought you into my world,
loved you, fucking worshipped you,
and all along,
you were working out how
to trap me.
- That's not true.
- (David) Hmm.
- You had me beaten
- I didn't
to scare me into thinking
I could never leave.
I didn't do that.
And then you went to work
on my honour,
knowing I'd never abandon you
if you were having a child.
David, I am pregnant.
- I swear (gasps)
- (thuds)
(gasps)
(Charity) "The crime
was a deliberate one
and was carried out
with premeditation."
"The prisoner has expressed
no remorse."
- (Ruth chokes)
- (Charity) "I can find nothing
to justify my taking
a less serious view
than of other cases of such
a callous and calculating nature".
(David, whispering) Oh, God.
Oh, God, don't let me do it.
Oh, God, don't let me do it.
(Charity) "The trial judge
has told me that he can suggest
no mitigating circumstances
and that he, himself,
was not able to find any grounds
for proposing that clemency
would be appropriate".
(gasping)
"After much anxious thought,
I have come to the conclusion
that the law should be allowed
to run its course".
(Ruth gasping)
One of these days, I will kill you.
(Ruth continues gasping)
(door closes)
(whispers)
You've already done that. (gasping)
The sentence will be carried out
two days from now.
(crying)
(Muriel) Well, I bet Mummy
has really missed you.
Andre, go and play. Go on!
(faint electrical buzzing)
It's all I could do.
Maybe now you can get some sleep.
(quietly) I don't want to die.
(louder) I don't want to die.
(sobbing) I don't want to die.
(sobs)
I don't want to die.
(sobbing) I don't want to die.
(racking sobs)
I know what you want to ask.
Why don't I just bloody leave him?
I don't have to ask that,
not after Dad
George.
You've never known any different
don't think you deserve
any different.
(racking sobs)
You said it would be enough,
the violence, the miscarriage.
You told me it would be enough
for a reprieve.
- (music fades)
- (sighs deeply)
The game is rigged, Ruth.
Why did you tell me to keep quiet?
- (quietly) Because it was too late.
- For who? For you?
You chose to perjure yourself
and make me an accessory to murder.
You promised that you would
help me, but you haven't.
Every step of the way,
you've made it harder and harder
for me to help save your life
and I've never understood why.
Do you know
about what George used to do?
He used to get blackout drunk.
And when he would come home,
it would always be my fault,
and he would belt me.
And people would always say to me,
"What do you do
to drive him to it?"
"What do you do to drive
them all to it?"
Because, you know,
every man I have ever been with
has turned out the same,
drunk, violent.
And it must have been my fault
because it kept on happening.
Different man, same thing.
I tried so hard to escape it.
Changed my voice,
changed the way I look.
I worked, and I worked.
Youngest club manager in London.
And I thought I'd done it.
And then, David turned up
(sombre music playing)
and he was worse
than all of them.
And I thought
there must be something in me
that is pulled towards them,
towards men like him.
I just didn't know what.
(muffled thud)
And then, when he was dead
(gunshot)
the police and the papers
and the lawyers,
they all made sense of it for me.
At last, I had my answer.
The reason I couldn't escape it
was because it was
what was always meant for me.
A common little tart,
worth nothing to anyone
except the price
she can charge for a night,
finally getting
what she had coming to her.
And I would still believe that,
if it weren't for you.
But you gave me hope,
hope that I could live
that I didn't deserve to die.
You're scared of them, aren't you?
All those men you talked about
that could destroy me.
You never really believed
you could save me, did you?
I'll be appointing a new solicitor.
Goodbye, Mr Bickford.
(door clangs shut)
(music fades)
(Mishcon) You found your husband
in the marital bed with a lady
who goes by the professional
moniker Madame Feather?
(client) That's right.
He has agreed to a divorce.
You say you only want
what's rightfully yours.
(client) Yes.
- (phone ringing)
- (secretary) Mr Mishcon's office.
We'll get you the whole bloody lot.
(client) Wow, thank you!
(secretary) Telephone for you, sir.
- It's Holloway Prison.
- Hmm.
- (sombre music playing)
- (bell rings)
Bickford. I'm Victor Mishcon.
I handled Ruth's divorce.
I believe she's asked for me.
Why has she fired you?
I've been carrying a bomb
in my briefcase,
and I didn't have the guts
to detonate it.
Try to get her to tell you
about the gun.
(keys turn in lock)
(Mishcon) Mrs Ellis.
I believe you have something
to tell me
that might save your life.
(music concludes)