HAPGOOD: Will you indeed.
(She picks up the phone again and starts dialling.')
RIDLEY: Who are you calling?
HAPGOOD: I want to talk to Betty.
(Without hurrying much, because she is still dialling, RIDLEY yanks the phone cord which comes away from the wall bringing fragments of plastic and bits of skirting-board with it.)
RIDLEY: You don't talk to Betty, you don't talk to anybody, in fact you don't talk so much in general, and you don't swear at all, get used to it, please.
HAPGOOD: You bloody gangster, that telephone is my livelihood!
RIDLEY: Is that right? You'll have to fall back on photography.
(She swings at him. He catches her wrist. With his other hand he takes a wad of bank notes out of one pocket.)
That's two thousand pounds.
(He lets go of her wrist and takes a similar wad out of another pocket.)
So's this. That's now, this is later.
HAPGOOD: What is it for?
RIDLEY: It's for looking nice and not talking dirty, and answering a telephone. After that, we'll see.
HAPGOOD: Why?
RIDLEY: I'll tell you when it's time.
HAPGOOD: Then why would I do it?
RIDLEY: For the money, your sister said. I want to know about you and your sister, sibling bribery is a new one on me.
HAPGOOD: Well, you can go and -
RIDLEY: Every time you swear I'm taking £50 out of this bundle. You'll get what's left.
HAPGOOD: - fuck yourself.
(RIDLEY separates a £50 note from the bundle of money [which is perhaps secured by a rubberband], and puts the remainder back into his pocket.')
That's theft.
RIDLEY: No, it's arson.
(Because his hand has come out of his pocket with his cigarette lighter with which he sets fire to the note.)
HAPGOOD: You're all nutters. I knew it then. Is Betty in trouble?
RIDLEY: When?
HAPGOOD: If she's in trouble, I don't mind helping.
RIDLEY: You knew it when?
HAPGOOD: Whenever - all those years ago when we did the interviews.
RIDLEY: Tell me about that.
HAPGOOD: I failed the attitude test. Betty was exactly their cup of tea so they kept her anyway.
RIDLEY: Anyway?
HAPGOOD: They were seeing twins - it was a phase. Nutters is not the word.
(RIDLEY laughs.) Ask Betty, they had a reason, she'll know what it was. Well, that cheered you up.
RIDLEY: Yes. Will you have a bath and talk nice and do what I tell you?
HAPGOOD: Is it her money?
RIDLEY: Not exactly.
HAPGOOD: I wouldn't take it if it was hers.
RIDLEY: Fine. It's ten twenty-five.
HAPGOOD: What did you say your name was?
RIDLEY: Ernest. Do you want me to scrub your back?
HAPGOOD: No, thank you.
RIDLEY: Take the clothes. They're for you to put on.
(She gathers them up to take them out.)
HAPGOOD: They're not really me.
RIDLEY: That's right.
(HAPGOOD leaves the room. RIDLEY stays where he is. The next time he moves, he's somebody else.)
INTER-SCENE
So we lose the last set without losing RIDLEY. When the set has gone, RIDLEY is in some other place . . . which may be a railway station, or alternatively a place where boats come in, or an airport; whatever the design will take, really. The main thing is that he is a man arriving somewhere. He carries a suitcase. He is a different RIDLEY. It's like a quantum jump.
And now we lose him. Perhaps he walks out. Perhaps the scene change has been continuous and he is now erased by its completion.
SCENE 3
BLAIR and KERNER are at the zoo. BLAIR has the 'pink diagram'.
BLAIR: I must confess I always thought that one Ridley was enough and occasionally surplus to an ideal arrangement of the universe. Now we've got one in Kensington and one who could be anywhere. I imagine he doesn't hang around, he'd come in and out as required. Could be on a British passport, more likely not. This is, of course, assuming that he exists. Does this (the diagram) prove twins?
KERNER: No. An invisible man is also a correct solution.
BLAIR: You chaps.
KERNER: Mathematics does not take pictures of the world, it's only a way of making sense. Twins, waves, black holes - we make bets on what makes best sense. In Athens, in Paris and at the Pool, two Ridleys satisfy the conditions. He was his own alibi. So we're betting on twins. But we need to be lucky also, and today is Friday; is it the thirteenth?
BLAIR: You chaps don't believe in that.
KERNER: Oh, we chaps! Niels Bohr lived in a house with a horseshoe on the wall. When people cried, for God's sake Niels, surely you don't believe a horseshoe brings you luck!, he said, no, of course not, but I'm told it works even if you don't believe it.
(BLAIR continues to look grave.) What is the matter, Paul?
BLAIR: Those photographs. Think of Ridley sitting there. He's been sending film to Moscow and now here are these prints, spread out on the table, courtesy of the Washington pouch. Awkward moment for him. And yet, suddenly he's in the clear. Kerner owns up. Well, we can't have Ridley sitting there wondering why you're owning up to his pictures. Ridley knew this wasn't his batch, because he photographed his pages flat, separately; they weren't pinned together by the corners and turned over. And those figures peeping out underneath, the whatsit production in the cyclone-whatever, they were nothing to do with him.
KERNER: I assumed naturally they were not Ridley's pictures.
BLAIR: Did you? I wish you'd said so. I wish you'd said, 'Paul where did you get that photo?'... because you see, those cycleclip numbers were pulled together from different sets, the way somebody might do it at the Moscow end, and it really upsets me, Joseph, that you weren't... I don't know ... surprised.
KERNER: Cyclotron, Paul. It's a sensible word. Cycleclip is bizarre by comparison.
(Pause.) Poor Paul. Everybody is a suspect.
(Reminded) Explain something to me. I forgot to ask Elizabeth. Prime suspect: it's in nearly all the books. I don't understand. A prime is a number which won't divide nicely, and all the suspects are prime. It's the last thing to expect with a suspect. You must look for scares. The product of twin roots. Four, nine, sixteen... what is the square root of sixteen?
BLAIR: Is this a trick question?
KERNER: For you, probably.
BLAIR: Four, then.
KERNER: Correct. But also minus four. Two correct answers. Positive and negative.
(Pause.) I'm not going to help you, you know. Yes-no, either-or.. .You have been too long in the spy business, you think everybody has no secret or one big secret, they are what they seem or they are the opposite. You look at me and think: Which is he? Plus or minus? If only you could figure it out like looking into me to find my root. And then you still wouldn't know. We're all doubles. Even you. Your cover is Bachelor of Arts first class, with an amusing incomprehension of the sciences, but you insist on laboratory standards for reality, while I insist on its artfulness. So it is with us all, we're not so one-or-the-other. The one who puts on the clothes in the morning is the working majority, but at night - perhaps in the moment before unconsciousness - we meet our sleeper - the priest is visited by the doubter, the Marxist sees the civilizing force of the bourgeoise, the captain of industry admits the justice of common ownership.
BLAIR: And you - what do you admit?
KERNER: My estrangement.
BLAIR: I'm sorry.
KERNER: I'm thinking of going home, perhaps you know.
BLAIR: No, I didn't.
KERNER: Ah, well.
BLAIR: It may be tricky for you.
KERNER: Do you mean leaving or arriving?
BLAIR: That's roughly what I'm asking you?
KERNER: Of course. Dog or dog-catcher. I forget. It's true that when the KGB came to me in Kalining
rad I had already thought of coming West, but to be honest the system I hated was the vacuum tube logic system. We were using computers which you had in museums. I wasn't seeking asylum, I was seeking an IBM 195.
BLAIR: No. They put you up to it and Elizabeth turned you. You were her joe.
KERNER: Yes, I was. There is something terrible about love. It uses up all one's moral judgement. Afterwards it is like returning to a system of values, or at least to the attempt.
BLAIR: (Angrily) Yes, values. It's not all bloody computers, is it?
KERNER: No. The West is morally superior, in my opinion. It is unjust and corrupt like the East, of course, but here it means the system has failed; at home it means the system is working. But the system can change.
BLAIR: No, it can't. Come on, Joseph, you know them - Budapest in '56 - Prague in '68 - Poland in '81 - we've been there! - and it's not going to be different in East Berlin in '89. They can't afford to lose.
KERNER: (Shrugs) It's not my job to change it. My friend Georgi has offered to arrange things if I want to go.
BLAIR: Why are you telling me?
KERNER: I declined his offer.
BLAIR: I'm glad, Joseph.
KERNER: I prefer British Airways.
(Pause.)
BLAIR: You should have accepted.
KERNER: (Angrily) Oh, yes! - You don't want to look, and then you'll get spy pattern.
BLAIR: I like to know what's what.
KERNER: Of course! Yes - no, either - or.
BLAIR: That's right. You're this or you're that, and you know which. Prophecy is a pastime I can't afford, I've got one of my people working the inside lane on false papers and if she's been set up I'll feed you to the crocodiles.
KERNER: One of your people? Oh, Paul. You would betray her before I would. My mamushka.
BLAIR: Good. Good, Joseph.
(He seems pleased by the way that went.)
Now. Is the sister thing going to work?
KERNER: Oh, yes. I was afraid of it, but with Mr Ridley it will be all right.
(He starts to leave, pause.)
I never saw Elizabeth sleeping. Interrogation hours, you know. She said, 'I want to sleep with you.' But she never did. And when I learned to read English books I realized that she never said it, either.
(KERNER walks away.)
SCENE 4
HAPGOOD's office. It's empty.
The door is opened with a key from the outside. RIDLEY enters the office.
RIDLEY: (Addressing HAPGOOD outside). Move.
(HAPGOOD enters behind him. She is wearing the clothes which he brought to the flat. RIDLEY closes the door. HAPGOOD looks around. RIDLEY has a bag, perhaps a sports holdall.)
Sit there.
(RIDLEY does everything smoothly and quickly. He riffles through a stack of printed documents [technical magazines perhaps] on the desk and extracts a sealed envelope, which he tears open. It contains a small key and a scribble.)
HAPGOOD: What if somebody comes in?
RIDLEY: It's your office, for God's sake. (He gives her the key.) Middle drawer.
(HAPGOOD uses the key to open the middle drawer of the desk.) Remote key.
HAPGOOD: This?
(She shows him the electronic key for the safe. RIDLEY takes it. He consults the scribble, programmes the key, opens the safe. From the safe he takes a disc-box - a new one, i.e. a sealed once-only box of the same type. He closes the safe. He puts the disc-box into his bag, together with the torn envelope and the scribble. During this:) Are you going to tell me what I'm doing here?
RIDLEY: Sure. Any phone that rings, don't pick it up. I'll pick it up.
(He picks up the red telephone, looks at its underneath, puts it down again; from the bag he takes a simple 'eavesdrop' connection, a single ear-piece ready to be wired up into a telephone receiver; and a screwdriver. At that moment, the door opens and MAGGS walks in, with a file, much as yesterday.)
MAGGS: Good afternoon Mrs Hapgood, you came in after all. Do you want to see the decrypts?
(HAPGOOD looks at RIDLEY.)
RIDLEY: Hello, Maggs ... aren't you supposed to be having lunch?
MAGGS: Yes, sir.
RIDLEY: Well, piss off then. Go to the pub.
MAGGS: I was in the pub.
(To HAPGOOD) I got the desk to bleep me if you came in - just the top one, really, it's green-routed and Sydney's been on twice this morning.
HAPGOOD: Has he?
MAGGS: Sydney - they only want a yes or no.
RIDLEY: Let them wait.
HAPGOOD: No, I can do that.
RIDLEY: Are you sure, Mother?
HAPGOOD: What's the matter with you today, Ridley?
(HAPGOOD takes the 'top one' from MAGGS and peruses it with interest.)
Mm...
RIDLEY: Perhaps you'd like me to...
HAPGOOD: Fascinating.
MAGGS: Just a yes or no.
HAPGOOD: Yes! Definitely yes!
(She passes the paper smartly back to MAGGS.)
Thank you, Maggs. I'll do the rest later.
MAGGS: McPherson came in if you want it.
HAPGOOD: Really?
RIDLEY: It's five minutes to two, Mother.
HAPGOOD: I want to know about McPherson.
MAGGS: Bishop to queen two.
(Pause.)
HAPGOOD: Right.
RIDLEY: Mother.
(The red phone rings. MAGGS lifts it up.)
MAGGS: (To phone) Mrs Hapgood's office... just a moment.
(He gives the phone to HAPGOOD and leaves.)
RIDLEY: Shit!
HAPGOOD: What do I do?
RIDLEY: Talk!
(RIDLEY has two desperate concerns: to wire up his 'eavesdrop' and to prompt HAPGOOD. But it's hopeless, a mess.)
HAPGOOD: (To phone) Hello... yes, it's her, it's me...
RIDLEY: 'I want to talk to Joe'... 'I want to talk to Joe!'
HAPGOOD: (Covering the phone) I can't hear! (Into phone) Yes... Eleven thirty...
(To RIDLEY) Someone wants a meeting.
RIDLEY: Where? Keep them talking, ask for Joe...
HAPGOOD: Yes... Where? ... Right...
(RIDLEY is nowhere near ready when she puts the phone down.)
RIDLEY: I'll kill you for this! - Eleven thirty where? Where?
(HAPGOOD is still contemplating the phone warily.)
HAPGOOD: Ten Downing Street.
RIDLEY: What? Oh, Jesus!
HAPGOOD: Was that it?
RIDLEY: No. I thought they were early.
HAPGOOD: Who's Joe?
(RIDLEY ignores her, he works on the red phone.)
Listen, I can't do this if you don't tell me what I'm doing.
RIDLEY: I'll tell you when it's time to tell you. God almighty... I ought to slap you bow-legged.
HAPGOOD: You don't mean Betty's Joe, do you? Ernie?
RIDLEY: Ridley.
HAPGOOD: Ridley. What's the silly cow been up to?
RIDLEY: Don't you like her?
HAPGOOD: Of course I like her, she's my sister.
(RIDLEY completes his work, and pauses to consider her. He's unsettled, somehow thrown by seeing her in this office, in these clothes... She is so obviously HAPGOOD.)
RIDLEY: Mrs Newton. What happened to him) You're divorced?
HAPGOOD: I'll say. Bastard owes me thousands. Actually it was Mr Newton who did for Betty and me. She said he'd go bad, warned me off, sister to sister. So I crossed her off my list and married him. Then he went bad. So of course I never forgave her. Do you mean she plays chess without a board?
RIDLEY: Looks like it.
HAPGOOD: That sounds like her.
RIDLEY: She's something.
HAPGOOD: Showing off, I meant.
RIDLEY: Why aren't you close?
HAPGOOD: Well, she was always the scholarship girl and I was the delinquent. Having the kid was good for her, she always thought the delinquents had the bastards and the scholarship girls had the wedding. It shook up h
er view of the world, slightly. Do you mind if I light up?
RIDLEY: She doesn't smoke.
HAPGOOD: It's all right, it's not a real cigarette.
(She puts a home-made cigarette in her mouth; RIDLEY snatches it away and keeps it.)
RIDLEY: For God's sake, don't you know where you are?
HAPGOOD: So what do we do now?
RIDLEY: (Looking at his watch) We wait.
(He leans over to reach the buttons on Hapgood's desk.)
When I do this (he snaps his fingers), you say, 'No calls, Maggs, no interruptions.'
(He snaps his fingers.)
HAPGOOD: No calls, Maggs, no interruptions.
MAGGS's VOICE: Yes, ma'am.
(Satisfied for the moment, but nervy, RIDLEY paces.)
HAPGOOD: He probably thinks...
RIDLEY: Yeh, nice thought.
HAPGOOD: Speak for yourself.
RIDLEY: I was.
HAPGOOD: Don't fancy your fuckin' chances.
(Pacing, RIDLEY, ax though absentmindedly, takes the bundle of money out of his pocket, detaches a £50 note and sets fire to it with his lighter. He carries on pacing, she carries on looking at him.)
Sit down, for God's sake.
(RIDLEY sits at the table.)
Ten of hearts.
RIDLEY: What about it?
HAPGOOD: Ten of hearts - now you.
(RIDLEY sighs.)
RIDLEY: King of hearts.
HAPGOOD: Two of clubs.
RIDLEY: Well, what are we playing?
HAPGOOD: Go on.
RIDLEY: Ace of spades.
HAPGOOD: Seven of diamonds.
RIDLEY: Haven't you got any spades?
HAPGOOD: Play your cards.
RIDLEY: Six of hearts.
HAPGOOD: Two of hearts.
RIDLEY: This is stupid. Nine of clubs.
HAPGOOD: Jack of clubs.
RIDLEY: Jack of spades.
HAPGOOD: Snap!! Bad luck...
(RIDLEY jumps irritatedly to his feet, and then the red phone rings.)
RIDLEY: Leave it! Listen - Betty's Joe has been kidnapped - this is the people who took him.
(He takes her left hand, calmly, lays it palm-down on the desk, and using his own hand as a blade he chops her hand across the knuckles, with coolly judged force, enough to make her cry out with pain.)