The Other Department

	On Film: Hugh is loitering on a street corner, looking 
	hard. He looks around him, and then enters one of 
	those Pay-Az-U-Krapp public lavatories: cut inside to 
	the interior of a dingy office, which, in a tardis sort of 
	fashion, is larger than it ought to be. Hugh looks round 
	him and then approaches a desk, behind which Stephen 
	is being measured up by a tailor.


Stephen		Alan, dear boy, glad you could make it. Shan't
		keep you a moment.

Hugh		No problem.

Tailor		Three or four buttons on the cuff, sir?

Stephen		Oh, I'm not sure. What do you think, Alan?

Hugh		(Shrugs) Three's plenty.

Stephen		You think?

Hugh		The lighter the cuff, the faster you move.

Tailor		Four is normal nowadays, sir.

Stephen		Hm. Tell you what, three on the left, four on
		the right.

Tailor		Very good, sir. (Jots in his notebook)

Stephen		Now, I dare say you'll be wondering why I asked
		you here.

Tailor		Well I assumed you wanted a suit made.

Stephen		Hm. Alan, do you know why I asked you here?

Hugh		Nope.

Stephen		Not even the teensiest hint of a suspicion?

Hugh		None at all.

Stephen		Good. That's why I asked for you. That's why 
		I asked for you. Thats why I asked for you.

Hugh		I don't follow.

Stephen		You're an outsider, Alan, and that means I can
		trust you.

Tailor		Excuse me, sir. Trousers.

Stephen		Trousers? Oh yes, I think so. Got to have trousers.
		Look a complete arse without trousers.

Tailor		Yes, sir. Did you envisage zip or button fly?

Stephen		Hoo, tricky. Views, Alan?

Hugh		Buttons are a dangerous luxury in my line of
		work. Personally, I'm a velcro man.

Stephen		Really? Bit noisy, isn't it?

Hugh		Noisy but fast. By the time they've heard your
		flies, it's a lifetime too late.

Stephen		Right, velcro it is. Now Alan, I have a little
		theory that I'd like you to hear.

Hugh		I'm listening.

Stephen		The Department is rotten. Rotten to the core.
		Am I ringing any bells with you?

Hugh		You're saying the Department is rotten?

Stephen		It's a theory, Alan. Just a theory. Run with me,
		and let's see how it plays.

Hugh		K.

Tailor		One other thing, sir?

Stephen		Yes?

Tailor		Which side do you dress?

Stephen		Er, nearest the window usually. Now Alan, I want
		you to cast your mind back to Berlin.

	Hugh looks grim.

Stephen		Problem?

Hugh		You told me to draw a line after Berlin. Walk
		away and forget, you said.

Stephen		Of course. You had to get out in rather a hurry,
		didn't you?

Hugh		I can't remember.

Tailor		Ticket pocket, sir?

Stephen		Hm?

Tailor		On the waistcoat.

Stephen		Ticket pocket, ticket pocket, ticket pocket. I think
		not. Hermoine and I don't seem to get out to the
		theatre as much as we used to these days. Seems a
		bit of a waste.

Hugh		Look, if you've hauled me all the way out here ...

Stephen		Calm yourself, Alan. There's reason in my madness.
		Now tell me. What do you know of Carl Albert
		Beiderbeck?

Hugh		Beiderbeck. 5'11". Blue build, medium eyes. Father
		was a Romanian circus acrobat, did some courier
		work for the Soviets in the late fifties. Mother was
		a small business adviser for the Midland Bank in
		Altrincham. Small arms, big feet. Fluent at the
		violin. Distinguishing marks, a small mole in his
		garden.

Stephen		Ha. I'm impressed Alan.

Hugh		I've seen the file.

Stephen		Well then, you're one of the few people in the
		Department who has.

Hugh		Meaning?

Stephen		Meaning you're one of the few people in the
		Department who has.

Hugh		I see.

Stephen		The Beiderbeck file went walkies six weeks ago.
		Hasn't been seen since.

Hugh		I see. Hence your rotten apple theory.

Stephen		Noooo. Hence my rotten Department theory. I
		don't really have a rotten apple theory.

Hugh		Who drew the file last?

Stephen		That is what you're going to find out.

Tailor		Begging your pardon, sir ...

Stephen		Oh no. You're not going to ask about turn-ups
		are you?

Tailor		No sir. About the Beiderbeck file.

Stephen		Yes?

Tailor		I was the last person to draw the file.

Hugh		You?

Stephen		Well I'll be rogered with a stiff wire brush ...

Tailor		Mr Beiderbeck wanted a suit made. Said he was
		going on a trip, and where he was headed, no one
		knew how to cut cloth properly. He couldn't come
		in for a fitting, so I had to get his measurements
		from the file.

Stephen		Alan, are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Hugh		No.

Stephen		Ah.

Hugh		What sort of suit did Beiderbeck order from you?

Tailor		Three piece houndstooth worsted, zip fly, four
		button cuffs.

Stephen		Ticket pocket?

Tailor		Oh yes, sir. Mr Beiderbeck was a great one for
		the theatre.

Stephen		Was he? Was he by didgery-handpoo?

Tailor		Very flamboyant gentleman, Mr Beiderbeck. I often
		thought he'd have done well on the stage himself.

Stephen		You know what this means, don't you Alan?

Hugh		Berlin, sir?

Stephen		Precisely. We have to get that file back.

Tailor		Well I'll ask my wife to put it in a taxi, if you like sir?

Hugh		There's a Lufthansa flight in an hour.

Stephen		I'll ask Judy to book you on it.

Tailor		Well we're only up in Finsbury Park, sir.

Stephen		If that file should fall into the wrong hands ...

Tailor		It's just sitting on the kitchen table ...

Hugh		Or get tea spilt on it ...

Tailor		Ah. Er ... Which side do you keep your penis, sir?

	Cut to next sketch incredibly quickly.

Stephen		My wife and I have been going
		to Provence for years. Well before
		it was fashionable. We like to think
		that we discovered it. The French
		were amazed when we pointed it
		out. They'd simply never noticed
		it.