THE BRIDE WORE BLACK
Julie, no! Julie!
- Here, Julie. Better take this, dear. - No, Mama. I don't need it.
Please. For me.
- You must go? - Yes, Mama. I must.
You will come back if you change your mind?
Yes, I will.
Don't be sad.
Just tell me where you're going. Leave me your address.
I don't have one yet.
I'll write you.
- Are you leaving, Aunt Julie? - Yes. I'm going to the station.
- May I go with you? - Yes, you may come with me.
- Looking for someone, lady? - I'm looking for Mr. Bliss.
- I believe he lives here. - Yes, ma'am.
- But he's not in. - It's quite all right.
- I must go up and wait for him. - But there's nobody in, ma'am.
Well, you say that he isn't in.
But you're not sure, are you? I'll go upstairs then.
As long as I'm here, I want to see his apartment.
But I can phone the apartment. I'll call up in front of you.
If nobody answers, I can take the message.
Your name, please?
What's your name, please?
You hear it ringing? Nobody's in the apartment.
Look, I've got a better idea.
You give me the key to the apartment.
I'll wait till he returns and give him a real surprise.
I was just thinking. I haven't been here very long...
and I don't even know if they'll keep me on.
But maybe we don't mean the same person.
- Mr. Bliss is a tall redhead, right? - Yes, that's right.
I was afraid of that. He didn't leave the key.
I guess he took it with him. Sorry, ma'am. I'm very sorry.
Mr. Bliss, just a second. A woman was asking for you.
- Mrs. Bujol? She and I are finished. - No, not her.
This woman has never been here before. She wanted me to give her your key.
And she even tried to bribe me with a hundred francs.
It wasn't that little Annie, was it?
- No. - Then it was Big Bertha.
- No. I know those two women. - Tell me about it then.
Hello. Did I wake you?
It was time for me to get up anyhow.
- What's new? - Nothing special.
- I hoped you would answer "Gilberte." - I don't see why.
It's very simple. Question: What's new? Answer: Gilberte.
You did say she was brand new, didn't you?
You and your humor, you murder me.
So you're going to put the yoke on today?
And what's this?
Better get rid of it before Gilberte discovers it.
Since I broke up with that Bujol woman, I've been living like a monk.
I also broke with little Annie. Gilberte's marrying a new man.
You know my motto. "Don't run after women. But don't let any get by."
And I wanted to ask Gilberte to choose a maid of honor...
who won't be too... who will be kind of...
You know what I mean.
It's about time you calm down.
"When you've seen one, you've seen them all."
- You taught me that. - But I want them all.
Women, that's all you think about.
You'll have to give up this hobby some day... with age.
That's simple. I've thought about that day quite often.
I'll use Hemingway's way out... bang, bang.
My own way out is called "Gilberte."
You can't believe that I'm in love? Go into my bedroom...
and right by the bed, you'll find a tape recorder.
- I see it. - Good. Press the red button.
- The red button? - Yes.
Just listen to that.
Terrific, isn't it?
Go back to the start.
I taped Gilberte crossing her legs.
She didn't know what I was up to.
Listen to the sound of her stockings rubbing against each other.
How do you like it?
That's the sound of nylons. The first time I tried it...
Gilberte was wearing a pair of silk stockings. Result: Nothing.
I wonder what she's doing right now.
With whom, you mean?
You're envious, you traitor. But you'll never make me doubt her.
No, I'm sure she must be gazing tenderly at my photo.
And I'll bet she's looking at her naked body in a mirror.
You're crazy.
I'm sure of it. In every novel written by a woman...
the heroine looks at herself naked in a mirror.
Gilberte's not in a book, though. What's the relation?
Sexual relation.
Well, I better answer.
I'm sure it's Gilberte. Tell her I'm out of the bath and on my way.
Hello. Am I speaking to Mr. Bliss?
Mr. Bliss is in, but...
It wasn't Gilberte, but another woman. She hung up, though.
A wrong number?
No. She asked for you, then hung up.
Yes, it is odd. I'll bet that must be my secret admirer.
Yes. There's a mysterious lady who admires me in secret.
It seems that some beautiful woman tried to enter my apartment...
and even offered Charlie the doorman a hundred-franc note.
Which he refused, I suppose. I'd have let her in for half that.
No, it must be a poor pregnant girl wanting an explanation.
- Impossible. She never saw me. - How do you know?
Charlie gave her a description of me that was completely false.
The trap worked. She said it was definitely me.
He said you were handsome and distinguished?
Go ahead and laugh.
But he says she was superb. Know what she wore?
An evening gown at 10 A.M. Let's go.
Yeah, let's go.
Your unknown lady is a hotel thief, that's all.
Did you ever see one wearing an evening gown? If I find her...
I'll celebrate the end of my bachelorhood with her.
- See what I mean, you... - That must be Gilberte.
- Too late, a hang-up. - Your mysterious woman again?
If it is, she wants something. And she wants it bad.
And the best man? Can't the best man kiss the bride?
I'll borrow my daughter, with your permission.
Do you see what I see by the door, Bliss?
- Well, introduce me. - But I don't know her.
I guess she came here with Fred and his friends.
I'm going to check up, then.
- You don't recognize me? - No. Yes, yes, sure.
Excuse me, please. How are you?
If you recognize me, why do you never say hello to me on the street?
Excuse me.
Well, I give up. Fred doesn't know her. Nobody knows her.
- She keeps looking at you. - I have a secret admirer, too.
Boy, my move.
- You happy? - Of course.
- Sure you're happy? - Of course, I am.
- Mama is very happy. - Then we're all happy.
You don't look happy.
It's my honor to present the real master of the house.
My friend, Bliss. I can't make the introduction...
because Mrs., or perhaps Miss...
...doesn't want to say her name. She's an apparition.
Whatever her name, she's welcome here. How do you do, apparition?
I suppose an apparition doesn't eat, smoke, or drink.
May I have some water? Cold water, please.
I think it would have a better taste if you got it for me.
That puts me one up on you, my friend.
I wanted to be alone with you.
- That puts me one up on him. - It's warm here. Take me to the balcony.
- Do we know each other? - Perhaps.
- Where did we meet then? - Think about it.
Thank you.
May I have another one?
Of course.
Won't you tell me your name now that we're alone?
- My name? No. - Oh, there goes your scarf.
You'll permit me to buy you another one, won't you?
Well, you see... this one was a souvenir.
I can't lose it. It means a lot to me.
You know you are... I find you fascinating.
You intrigue me. My fianc�e is lovely.
Tell me just one thing. Did you phone me twice this morning?
I don't know. Get my scarf.
Get my scarf, and I will answer.
I'm Julie Kohler!
Oh, ma'am. You want Mr. Coral?
No, I came to see a friend. But she's not in.
I was trying to leave, but with all these corridors...
I guess I lost my way. Then I saw this open door.
I've always believed you can know what a person's like...
if you just examine the room he lives in.
Yeah.
- I don't know your mister... - Mr. Coral.
Mr. Coral, but let me show you. I'm sure that he's a messy person.
- And I'm sure he isn't rich. - You're right about that.
He's always at least three months behind in his rent.
He's also a man who won't face reality...
- but takes refuge in dreams. - That's right.
What he's looking for is an ideal woman...
a woman he can't find and who exists...
- only in his imagination. - You're right.
I've noticed that whenever the poor man looks at a woman...
he gets white as a sheet or red as a lobster.
You see. A simple room like this can tell you a lot.
You're right about that.
But don't let me keep you from your work.
Good-bye.
Mr. Coral, what about your letter?
- I don't think it's for me. - Yes, it is. It's for you.
That's right, it's for me. Mr. Coral, that's me.
"Municipal Theater.
The Fontanarosa."
Very strange.
I have a ticket. Is it good for tonight?
Of course, sir. The performance just began three minutes ago.
- You're in box eight. - Thanks.
Your ticket, please.
Thank you.
This way, please.
- You owe me an explanation. - Do I?
Yes, and to begin with, how do you know me?
- You're much too curious. - My name is Coral, Robert Coral.
Am I the man you meant to send the ticket to?
Yes, Robert Coral.
If it were all a mistake, would you be disappointed?
Yes, no, I don't think so. At least we met.
I'm happy even if it wasn't meant for me.
If you were to tell me you won't see me again, I would feel lost.
You're not sorry you came, are you? Then you're glad?
More than glad. I'm overwhelmed.
- But I can't stop thinking... - Yes, I know.
It's difficult to keep from thinking.
- Then why don't you tell me? - It's my secret.
- Your name at least. - I'll tell you later.
When?
- The next time we meet. - When?
I don't know yet. Next week perhaps.
- Why couldn't it be tomorrow? - Tomorrow.
Wonderful! Where?
Where? At your place?
My place? But I'd never have dared propose it.
Well, dare.
- Would you come tomorrow to my place? - Gladly.
- You'll tell me everything? - Yes, I'll tell you...
when, where, why, and how.
- And now, good-bye till tomorrow. - I'll take you home first.
No, you must go. Until tomorrow night at nine.
I don't know what to say, I'm just...
- Then don't say anything. Good-bye. - Good-bye.
And yet for not even a minute Did she try to be pleasing
I'm wrong. She did try to be pleasing.
The curtains...
There.
The mountain.
Under the bed.
Yes, yes. Just a second. There.
The rent notice. I guess you passed without seeing it.
Oh, just get out!
Yes?
You know, I was beginning to think you wouldn't come at all.
You're sweet, but you know...
I was sure you would say something stupid.
You're rather hard on me.
But I don't mind much.
Which do you prefer, whiskey or gin?
- I warn you, the gin isn't too good. - No, wait.
I've brought something very special for the two of us.
Arak?
It's from the end of the world. Do you know it?
- What? The end of the world? - Why, no. Arak.
Give it to me. Thanks.
- Do you like mandolin? - Sure I do, why?
Because I brought a record I really love.
- I want to listen to it with you. - Sure.
The record player's there.
Put your record on. I'll open this bottle.
- I don't know how to work it. - Just a minute. I'll get it going.
- Permit me to make an impossible wish. - Why impossible?
- Because I'm rather a pessimist. - I've heard it said:
"There are no optimists or pessimists.
There are only happy idiots or unhappy ones."
Yes, well, I'm an unhappy idiot then.
You cheered me up, though, so here's to you and me.
The two of us, together.
- Can we have some music? - Of course.
That's very nice.
I don't believe I know it.
Look, it's empty. You know what they say?
"I empty my glass when it's full.
And when it's drained, I'm full."
You remember the secret?
You were to tell me it tonight.
I want to know your deepest thoughts.
No, my thoughts are mine.
You will know the secret.
But wait, it's a bit too early.
Aren't you happy here with me?
Yes, I am, yes! You are magic.
You made me drink a love potion.
Look. I've made this to remind me of something I should do, but what?
- I feel like dancing. - Good. Let's dance.
No, by myself, but I'll dance for you.
Listen here. It's the allegretto.
- You're beautiful. Too beautiful. - But why too?
- Too beautiful for me. - Don't be foolish.
Don't put yourself down.
In life you must always play to win.
Losers are made, not born.
You're right.
I won't put a hand on you. You're my fairy princess.
My impossible dream.
I won't put a hand on you, but I wish you'd ask me to touch you.
That way I'd know deep down I could have done it, if I'd wanted to.
You're here with me. It's a miracle.
Till now, I've had little to do with women.
I've been a very lonely soul.
I'll confess something that I can't tell to a man.
I'll bet I could count on the fingers of one hand...
no, let's say both hands...
the women I've had.
And now my impossible dream...
of making you happy.
You've almost done it.
This isn't the first time we've met, you know.
I know that. I met you last night.
No, that wasn't the first time either.
Listen to me. No, a little while more.
We know each other.
You saw me once.
Not too many years ago.
But I wasn't wearing black, I was wearing white.
Yes, by God, I recognize you. You're the bride.
Listen, it wasn't our fault.
I can't see very well. Is the light flickering?
Nothing has happened to it. It's you.
I'm being torn to shreds. You must call a doctor.
It's no use. He'd get here too late. It's all over now.
Cookie!
Hello, Cookie. Such a big ball for such a little fellow.
- How old are you? - Almost five and a half.
Isn't that nice? And whose little boy are you?
- I'm my papa's and mama's boy. - What's your papa's name?
- Cl�ment. - Cl�ment? Cl�ment Morane?
- Why, sure. Cl�ment Morane. - You've got a Band-Aid.
It was my teacher who put it on when I fell down in the yard.
- Do you want to play a little game? - What kind?
You put everything you have in your pockets in my hand.
A coin...
and a stick of chalk.
Fine, be a good boy, close both eyes...
and without peeking, tell me what I have in my hand.
A marble, a car, a picture...
a whistle, chalk.
A coin. You see, my grandma gave me it.
That's pretty good! Now, tell me, does Grandma live here with you?
Don't you know that grandmas live someplace else?
My grandma lives in Andeville.
- Would you like to go to see her? - You mean, now?
Here. Would you like one of these?
Cookie, come here.
MOTHER VERY ILL
What are you crying for?
Get a grip.
You knew it would happen sooner or later. Your mother's no spring chicken.
You might be a little more sympathetic. A poor sick lady...
- alone in that big house, at her age. - Alone, my eye. She's got a TV set.
The world could still function without a woman that old.
I'm worried about how the two of you will make out.
- Lucienne will cook the dinner. - But Tuesday is her day off.
Your mother would choose Tuesday to get sick.
Do you think you can get along without me then?
Does a man need a Ph.D. To wipe a kid's nose?
- You're not hungry, are you? - Yes, I am hungry.
Now, where's that package of soup?
"Gives you soup, thick and velvety, like mother used to make."
- Cookie, how are things in school? - Everything's fine, Papa.
That's surprising. Who'll get the star this month?
- I think Jos?Macias. - The Spanish boy?
He told me he can't speak any Spanish.
The boy may not speak it, but his father does.
Try to get the star back next month.
You see, life is like a big race.
Someone has to win, and someone has to lose.
I know, like Bertrand. He's my best friend.
Next month, you better...
I'll get it.
Hello, Cookie.
Good evening, sir. Mr. Morane, I suppose?
- Yes. My wife isn't in. - I know that. I'm Miss Becker.
- Your son, Cookie, is in my class. - Yes, Miss Becker. I know.
Mrs. Morane didn't really ask me to come by, but she sounded worried...
about leaving you alone with the boy. I could cook you something...
- and then put Cookie to bed. - That's really nice of you.
But I can take care of things. I even started making soup.
You've made enough to last a week. Let me do it.
- I think I'll do better. - Well, if you insist.
Cookie, you haven't said good evening to Miss Becker.
- It's not Miss Becker. - Cookie, don't make me angry.
- She's not my teacher. - Would you like this?
No, don't. He isn't used to seeing me outside of school.
- What's this? - My whistle.
I took it away from you today. You were so noisy. I'll give it back.
- And this, who put on this Band-Aid? - Miss Becker.
You mean it was me.
- No. You don't look like her a bit. - I know what's the matter.
It's the glasses. I wear glasses in school.
- There. Well, is this better? - No. You are not her.
- Where's my candy? - I ate it up!
- I'll give you a hand. - No, please don't bother.
But I have to show you where things are.
No, I'll find them. Go read your newspaper.
Do you know where Daddy's slippers are? Go and get them.
- All right, finish your yogurt. - I don't like yogurt.
You say you don't like it, but maybe it doesn't like you.
- Yes, it does. - You have the patience of a saint.
I'll give you some sugar.
I'm puzzled over something. May I ask a question?
Tell me on exactly what basis you award the star...
- what's the criterion? - Well, you know...
I don't mind if that boy, Jos?Macias, got it...
I just wanted to know.
You know, it's all based... it's based on the grades.
But I was told there are no grades in kindergarten.
Well, they aren't official.
Cookie, how about it? It's bedtime. Put on your pajamas.
You know, the star. I never got one, but...
Nothing was preventing me, but...
I spent more time under the teacher's desk than in my seat.
- Can a woman keep a secret? - You must decide that.
Yes, well. Nobody knows this, not even the boy's mother.
Yielding to pressure from my friends, I intend to become...
the party's candidate in the next elections.
- I suppose I should wish you luck. - I won't count my chickens...
but I do think the situation is favorable.
- Would you like coffee, Mr. Morane? - No, I prefer a light tea.
You see, the people here must wake up.
They are going to be given a choice, and they had better choose right.
Do you know the composition of the district?
- Politics and me, you know... - You're not a non-voter, are you?
- Not me, not at all, but... - Mark my words.
If you don't attend to politics, politics will attend to you.
Personally, I've given up everything for politics.
Even hunting. It's no great sacrifice.
So many fools go hunting these days.
Now, let me tell you this. Politics is not child's play.
Get this straight, to run a modern campaign like we're planning...
money's needed, a lot of money, and we've got it.
Sure, people always ask questions, "Where does it come from?
Who pays for the posters, hand bills and so forth?"
We can't tell them. They wouldn't understand.
Yes, the voters should be completely informed, but that's just not possible.
They don't really know what's good for them.
This evening you were good for us.
I really don't know how to thank you.
I have no idea how I'd have gotten along without you.
My wife will be very grateful to you.
My activities have prevented me from going to P.T.A. meetings...
but I am acquainted with your principal.
He'll never set the world on fire, but he's a good man.
Could you find out if he's decorated?
I could see about getting a plaque for him.
It might please him, and it would help my boy.
Come along, Cookie, you have to go to bed.
- Let's play hide-and-seek. - Yes.
Then I'll be it.
Good. And I'll count to ten. Ready.
One, two, three, four, five...
six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
Where can Cookie be? I don't see him.
But I hear him nearby. I'm sure that he's not far.
There you are. Now you're "it."
- You scared me. - Do you mean it? I scared you?
- No, not really. You go hide. - Start counting.
One, two, three...
four, five, six...
seven, eight...
nine, ten.
Come on. Up you go.
You're too heavy for me. Say good night to Daddy.
- Good night, Cookie. - Good night.
And say your prayers.
Now get ready to meet the sandman.
Get your feet under.
Give me your hand and I'll show you something.
You see, there were five little pigs...
and they all lived together.
This little piggy went to market. This little piggy stayed home.
This little piggy had some roast beef, this little piggy had none.
And this little piggy cried "wee-wee-wee" all the way home.
- There! Good night, now. Sleep well. - Good night.
I went to sleep, dreaming I was in a movie.
My wife must have arrived at her mother's by now.
Don't leave yet. Won't you have a liqueur?
Sorry, I must go.
All that counts is Cookie. Me, I'm nothing.
You know, I may not look like a Don Juan, but as a general rule...
politicians make it big with women.
It's normal because a woman can say...
"For an hour, he completely forgot France and gave himself to me."
Please, it's impossible for you to leave in this weather.
I must go.
Wait, take this umbrella.
Return it to my wife. She'll want to thank you.
No, thanks.
She's a perfect mother, but she can't seem to understand me at all.
You seem to understand me quite well.
I've lost my ring. I guess it must've fallen off while we were playing.
It's a souvenir, a man's signet ring. It's not worth much...
but I do prize it. I may have lost it upstairs.
- I'm sure he'll wake up now. - Don't worry about him.
He'd sleep through an earthquake.
But the closet could be a good place to look. You hid there.
Miss Becker, open the door, please. It slammed shut.
No, I slammed it.
All you have to do is pull the bolt toward you.
But you haven't understood me. I'm the one who locked you in.
Open up, Miss Becker!
All right, stop it. I'll tell you why I did it.
- What? - I'm not Miss Becker.
- What do you mean? Who are you? - I'm Julie Kohler.
David Kohler's widow. I came here tonight to kill you.
Let me out of here! Listen to me!
Let me explain what happened. I'll explain the whole thing to you.
It was a terrible accident, and because of it...
our careers, our futures, could have been ruined.
Bliss, Coral, Delvaux and I weren't really friends.
We were a group of bachelors in a boring, small town.
We'd get together to play cards and kid around.
We only had two common interests. Hunting and women.
After the accident, we all felt guilty, and yet innocent.
We made a quick decision to break up...
and never see each other again.
It's all in the past.
For you it's in the past.
But I live through it every night.
Every young girl dreams of meeting her Prince Charming...
of getting engaged and married.
I never had to dream, because David was always there.
I never looked at another boy, and no other girl existed for him.
I waited for David. I waited to become his wife.
Julie! Julie!
They wouldn't let me die, so I went back to the church.
The sun was no longer shining. I stood on the steps...
and turned around to look at the rooftops...
and when I went into the church...
it was not to pray, it was to make a vow.
I tracked the five of you down, one by one.
It took me a long time to find you.
Let me out! Listen to me!
I only listen to David.
I told you what happened! I'll do anything you ask!
- I want David. - I can't breathe!
I only want David, to hear him laughing, to see him walking.
I want to see his eyes.
You took something from me, that you can't give me back.
Are you there?
I know you're there, answer me.
Let me out of here! Let me out of here!
Are you there?
What are you doing?
Answer me! What are you doing?
You're mad!
Hello, Cookie. Come with me.
Let's talk.
Cookie, let's see.
You said you played hide-and-seek with your papa and a lady.
What was the lady like?
She was funny. She played a game with us.
Did your father hide under the stairway?
All of us took our turn.
- Who was "it?" - The lady and me.
- What lady? - The one who was here.
I know, but who was that lady? Who?
I told you. She's the lady who played with us.
When you played this game after dinner...
- who was the first to hide? - Me.
- And then? - The lady.
- And then? - My papa.
You, the lady, your papa...
- You're angry with her? - What?
You're angry with Miss Becker?
- What did you say? - You're angry with Miss Becker?
- Who is Miss Becker? - The lady who came here.
The one last night, her name is Becker?
Yes.
Very good. That's very good, Cookie.
- Miss Becker, please. - Yes? That's me.
I'm Detective Kling. Would you come along to the Moranes?
- Right now? - If you would.
Don't worry about it. I will see to the children.
Thank you. All right.
The poor little boy. We were just talking about him.
I guess they'll ask me to take care of Cookie.
They want to ask you a few simple questions.
I have to tell the principal.
He's been told.
Don't try to influence the child.
Well, Cookie. Is this she?
Was I the lady, Cookie?
Cookie, was Miss Becker here when you played hide-and-seek?
Yes, Miss Becker was here.
And Miss Becker ate with my papa and with me.
Passengers for Flight 813, destination Essington...
please come to gate B for immediate boarding.
Excuse me, I forgot something, I must make a phone call.
You have two minutes. Please, hurry.
Hello, police? Now listen.
Let that teacher go. She didn't murder Morane.
I'm talking, not you. The teacher is innocent.
You can believe me because I'm the murderer. You want proof?
I will give it to you. The fake telegram received by Mrs. Morane...
"Mother ill. Must have your help."
Cookie's room is upstairs.
And the lamp by his bed has a lampshade...
on which there's a locomotive racing on the tracks.
Well, is that enough? And now, let that teacher go. Good-bye.
You're wrong because revenge is wrong.
Revenge is hopeless. It would be endless. It would be necessary...
to avenge too many wrongs, too many crimes, too much ignorance.
The evil thoughts of people.
You must renounce this sinister mission you've taken on yourself.
This must be done, it's not a mission. It must be done.
- Give it up. - Impossible. I must continue to the end.
I see no remorse in your eyes. Don't you fear for your soul?
No remorse, no fear.
You know, you'll be caught in the end.
The justice of men is powerless.
I'm already dead. I died the same day David did.
I'll join David after I've had my revenge.
How can you hope to join love through hate and murder?
You have no answer. Not a word.
- I beg you to stop! - No, you can't sway me.
- What were you seeking here? - The strength to continue.
You gave it to me, in spite of yourself.
Wait!
I was sure of it, boss. I know cops.
You fool them two or three times, then bang, they nab you.
I warned you, that paint job on the car was bad.
I think he did it on purpose, if you ask me.
I tossed the plates into a septic tank. No one will find them.
I'd hate to be the guy they send down there.
The cops can't prove a thing without the plates.
The loot. This is yours, boss, and this is mine.
And now, if anyone asks for you, I don't know a thing.
You said good-bye and left. I know nothing, see nothing, etc.
Customers. I'll get rid of them.
For you, boss. A woman. She insists on seeing you.
I don't know her. Looks like a tramp.
I'll tell her you're gone, but she looks stubborn.
Sorry, but Mr. Delvaux is leaving on a trip and can't see you now.
But if you want me to, I'll give him a message.
That's no good. He's got to see me, and that's that.
I have time, so I'll just wait here.
Tell him that I'm staying till he sees me.
Mr. Delvaux.
Are you Mr. Delvaux?
Police.
You're under arrest.
Move on.
- Is he the one who sold it to you? - He's the one.
Robber! I'll show you yet! You dirty thief!
Take advantage of me! I'll show you, you louse! You stinking louse!
You won't get away with it! Dirty rat!
He'll pay for what he did to me!
Driver, 13 Avenue Nemesis.
This is stupid. They were asked to send a tall, stacked redhead.
Good Lord!
I was looking all over for you last year.
Last year?
You're the image of the woman I needed for my exhibition.
Exactly right for it. You're a bit too late, though.
This is one more time that stupid girl got it wrong.
Yes, just right for it. So sorry.
But what about me?
I was thrilled to get to model for the great Fergus.
- And besides, I could use the money. - Well, another time.
- Well, I'll be seeing you. - Wait.
Just a second. I may have an idea.
Come on in. Where is that thing?
Oh, here it is.
They've asked me to illustrate a book.
I didn't say no. I didn't say yes.
But now that I see you...
You see, the theme is Diana the Huntress. It's by Klossowski.
The publisher sent me these things, a lot of accessories.
Look at this.
They got her mixed up with Tarzan.
Well, all right, it's not complicated.
The costume, let's say white and short.
Good, you better take care of that.
Take this along. We'll start work next time you come here.
All right? Have it made at Bertrand's.
- At Bertrand's? - Yes, Bertrand's, the costume maker.
Just tell him it's for me and that I'm in a hurry.
Mr. Fergus, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I told you a lie.
I was in the agency waiting room when they told this girl...
to come here to work for you so I made up my mind to beat her here.
How do you do, Mr. Fergus? The agency sent me.
- The agency? What agency? - They have guts.
Well... well, you see, this has happened before.
That stupid woman gets things wrong. I don't need you. Wait.
- This is for your trouble. - Oh, no.
Take it. I think I've seen you somewhere.
Sure, at the Balto, often with Massoulier.
- That's right. I've noticed you too. - Have you?
What do you say we get together some evening, but not at the Balto.
I'd love that, Mr. Fergus.
- Good-bye. - Good-bye.
There you are. Now you know, I'm a skirt-chaser.
But don't worry, you're in no danger.
Good Lord! I was so busy with the front, I forgot about the rear.
That's thirty-six, twenty-three and thirty-seven, good.
When I'm in shape, I can tell a woman's measurements within an inch.
Well, let's get to work.
I'm attracted to that redhead because she's so vulgar.
I demand lots of vulgarity in my women.
It's part of life.
She didn't get the job, but she got on my list.
I simply must tell you about my nightmare. Listen to this.
It's morning, I'm in the street, I'm dressed...
and there are only women. No, there are no women, only men.
So I walk along... only men.
Not a single woman.
And then I wake up in a cold sweat.
But everything's fine, because it's only a dream.
Now listen. I walk around the neighborhood in the evenings...
and look the girls over in the cafes...
the way that some nuns do while collecting alms.
"I've collected from that one. That one, not yet. I'll have to try her."
Your nose is remarkable. So is your mouth.
If I were a writer, I'd write a book.
Every place is the same, the subway, the train, the bus.
I get on, and immediately I look around to see women I could pick up.
And when I find one, there's a feeling of relief.
And if there's more than one, I have a way of grading them.
I don't make a pass or even give them the eye.
But I know they're there.
And if something occurred, let's say an accident...
suppose a subway train got stuck all night between stations...
yeah, well, anything might happen.
- Does this shock you? - No. I'm very interested. Go on.
Anyway, even if I do shock you, you mustn't move.
I prefer to talk when I work.
Listen. I often get out...
and wait on the platform for the next train.
And you know why? Because there is no interesting girl in mine.
If I stay, I feel I'm being stifled. I suffocate.
And you can't imagine how much I hate contact with men.
If a man sits down beside me, I change my seat.
There. Now you change position.
Let's see. Your right leg... No, not crossed.
Again at the left. Good. Your hands.
Fine. Try to hold it. Still, I must say...
if I should see too many beauties in one place or in one day...
do you know what happens to me? I get depressed.
I think of those I will miss. I get dizzy.
It happens in the street. I see a beautiful girl...
walking in front of me, and my heart beats faster.
I hurry to catch up with her. I look at her, she's hideous.
Then, believe it or not, I'm relieved. I find it reassuring.
It's crazy. I've got something to show you.
All right, now. We're done for today.
Look at the date.
- And I'd never seen you in my life. - It's possible.
This proves what Oscar Wilde said.
That nature imitates art.
- Good-bye, see you tomorrow. - Tomorrow.
- Hello. - Hello.
- Who's she? - You passed her downstairs.
Oh, her. I just saw her back.
I noticed her legs, not great, but nice.
- Her dress was white. - You're right. That's her.
- Her name is? - Funny! I forgot to ask her.
Where do we eat? At Titine's or the Customs House?
At Titine's. This is Massoulier's treat. He won his bet.
- What bet? - On the Montreal-Paris flight.
He succeeded in making the stewardess.
- He won two hundred francs. - It's worth it.
- Hey, Corey, what is it? - I'm just sort of thinking.
I know I've seen her.
As soon as I find a new girl, somehow you know her...
or if you don't, you have a friend who does.
No, this time it's like having a name on the tip of your tongue.
Has she posed for Massoulier?
Frankly, I don't think she's a real model.
- She gets tired too fast. - I'm sure that I've seen her.
She's not from around here. I'd have noticed her.
- Why? Did you...? - No.
- No, she's different. - I detest that word.
When you say she's different, don't forget what the Italians say.
All women are prostitutes. Except my mother, she's a saint.
Anyway, when you've seen one...
- It's you. Good morning. - Good morning.
- Come in. Do you have the costume? - Right here.
Great. You can change in the bathroom.
You'd never guess what those are.
They're falsies.
Manufactured by a customer of mine, an American businessman.
He overestimated his sales possibilities and got stuck...
with eight thousand pair. So he sells them by the yard.
Amusing, don't you think?
By the way, you didn't tell me your name yesterday.
- What's your name? - I don't dare tell you.
- It's such a ridiculous name. - Ridiculous. Let's hear it.
My name is Alphonsine.
Alphonsine!
That's a beautiful name.
I like it. It has the smell of earth about it.
Ernestine, Julie, Charlotte.
A lovely name, Alphonsine. And Alphonsine what?
Just call me Diana. Diana, that's all.
That's not bad.
- May I have your ring? - Yes.
You may have it back later, if you're good.
But you need a bracelet.
It's not a piece of brass junk. It's something Calder made.
Yes, on the right.
The girl is fine, the costume is fine, but from here...
you look more like a tennis player than Diana the Huntress.
We'll have to concentrate on detail.
Let's take each thing on its own.
Position of the feet, position of the legs.
And the hand taking an arrow from the quiver.
Don't move your body.
You must be tired.
Now you may rest a bit. Like something to drink?
- I would. - Cool or hot?
Hot.
- Do you want tea or coffee? - Tea. Let me make it, please.
- No, you take a rest. - No, stay here.
I'll do it. I'd rather move around.
- What happened in your kitchen? - What?
I mean, what caused this hole?
That? That's a bullet hole.
A cop committed suicide in the courtyard.
- A cop? - Yes, a cop. Funny, isn't it?
He shot himself in the head. Do you know why?
Despair over love.
The whole thing was beyond me.
After all, who ever thinks of a cop being in love?
- What are you doing tonight? - Nothing special.
- Then, let's have dinner together. - Absolutely not.
Why not?
Because I came to pose and when time's up, I leave.
Then we can stop now.
We're going to stop?
I'm fed up. Knocked out. We'll go on tomorrow.
- Three o'clock tomorrow. - All right.
Will you give me back the ring, please?
You must have a telephone. Give me the number.
That's impossible. My ring.
I'll hold on to it. This way, I'll know you'll come back.
All right. So long.
Fergus, how are you? Where have you been lately? Something wrong?
Nothing special. A little depressed.
The gang's at the Balto. We'll cheer you up.
No, I'll stay home, if you don't mind.
I'll bet it's that girl. Nothing doing?
Yes, yes. It's all right. I'm even spending my nights with her.
Are you all right? It's nothing.
How could it happen? I don't understand.
It's all right, I tell you. It wasn't your fault.
It was lucky I broke my charcoal.
You're trembling. You're cold.
Wait... I've got an idea.
Both of us are alive. Let's drink to that.
When I was a boy, my father would say...
champagne is to adults what milk is to kids.
Do you know why the Chinese never use this little finger?
Because it's mine.
Good champagne?
Feel better?
You got a shock. We'll finish tomorrow.
See a movie with me?
And we'll have dinner on the Seine, on a boat later.
- Let's get it over once and for all. - Then will you promise?
Whatever you want, but we must finish right away.
Are you all right?
- You sure? - Yes.
Fine, let's go.
Very good. Now, a little more toward me.
A little more.
That's it.
Damn it, damn it! It's the weekly stampede.
They're like a cyclone! We'll have to stop.
I'm going to change. I don't want to meet them.
Wait! Don't look at me, please. I have something to tell you.
But keep looking away, or I'd never be able to.
There are words and expressions that everyone uses.
They're in all the books. The phrases I thought I'd never use.
I thought I was above all that.
Now, I'm in love with you.
- Don't run away! Do you love me? - Leave me alone!
It's not love I'm looking for.
- Do you know her? - No. Never saw her.
I'm sure that I've seen that face somewhere before.
I'm going to find out where.
Fergus, well, have you got it made?
Shut up, will you! She's in there.
Where? In the bathroom?
Diana The Huntress. She's a virgin, then.
I've seen her.
- Daniel's making his usual play. - That's a lot of hypocrisy.
Artists, they say, are immoral. They sleep together and all that.
Yeah, why does everyone pick on us artists?
You take any field. Civil service, banks, factories.
Take the subway, for instance...
Hey, Daniel, are you reciting Saint-Simon?
I think we know each other. My name's Corey.
- And you? - Diana.
- Diana what? - That's all.
Where have I seen you?
You looked at me as if you knew me also.
There are people who don't make much of an impression.
You did.
I'm imagining you with different hair.
Grandmorin is inviting us all to dinner. He wants you.
- It'll keep, I guess. - No, you go and speak to him now.
- We'll be leaving right away? - I guess we'd better go.
All right?
- You'd like to finish tonight? - Yes.
Me too. I suggest we go along with them to the restaurant...
and there you say you've got to phone while I go out the back door.
- We meet here in 20 minutes, all right? - Yes.
Of course.
For three days, I've been trying to think where I met her.
And then, in the middle of the night, wham! At Bliss's place.
The night that he got engaged, when he fell off the terrace.
She was there alone. No one saw her come, no one saw her go.
No one knew her name or who she was. Nothing.
Recognize him?
Yes, it's him. I pushed him off the terrace.
Yes, that's Bliss. The three of us were together.
To be alone with him, she sent me for a glass of water, and then...
I never saw him. I had only met Bliss and Fergus.
Robert Coral. I came to his hotel and poisoned him.
- Recognize this one? - I don't.
He was pushed off a train in the night.
- We don't know who he is. - I tell you, I don't know the man.
That's Morane. He suffocated in a hall closet. I admit I shut him in.
Mr. Corey?
This is the last victim, your friend, Fergus.
Now, please, tell us why you killed these men.
I remember something. You didn't know Bliss...
because at the party you took me for him.
And you didn't know Fergus either. Well?
You'll never know.
They must have something in common.
Or else...
You'll be examined by a group of psychiatrists tomorrow, but...
I wonder if the list was closed? He might have been the next.
Yes, I hate him because he's the sort of man...
who's always pawing girls, but I wouldn't kill him.
What did you have against Bliss and Fergus?
And Morane and Coral?
I've nothing more to say.
Have you chosen a lawyer?
I don't know any, and it doesn't matter anyway.
Then, we'll assign you one.
I hope he can work out a better defense for you.
I've known killers caught with a smoking gun, brazenly refusing...
to admit their crime, but this one beats all.
She admits committing four murders, and won't say what the motive was.
I'm stumped by the way this woman, so intelligent, let herself be caught.
Doesn't make any sense.
Soup's on!
Hey, you!