Original subtitles

Twelve, Rue de la Pique was still the same.

Nothing had changed in ten years.

Except maybe it was a different canary.

And Monsieur Varay's old auto remained as immobile as its owner.

Old Paris was still old Paris.

Madame Perret couldn't be out shopping. It was the wrong time.

And she never kept anybody waiting.

Not even her pig of a husband.

Keep running, mon chéri.

Like in the old song.

Run, rabbits, run.

My visit wasn't entirely sentimental.

Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run.

Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run.

I decided I'd waited long enough, about four minutes to be exact.

So things had changed at my old lodgings after all.

Monsieur?

Madame Verret.

Monsieur Bobby.

So you were in. Oh, but of course. I'm always here. I'd given you up for lost.

Hey, you look terrific.

You haven't changed at all. Oh, and you're still a flatterer.

Oh, but you have.

Oh, yes. You look different.

So much style.

So chic, so elegant.

Are you rich? You must be.

Come in, come in.

Oh, my goodness, after all this time.

You must pick you the mess.

Mess? A little spick and span. Oh, no, no, no. Not if you look happily. Not to

how proud as I used to be.

I let things fly.

You first. Oh, no, madame. After you, please.

Ah, still the perfect gentleman.

Well, if you insist.

Well.

How many years is it since you were staying here?

Must be ten years at least.

Yes, I think it was in 1944.

That's right. I was here right after the liberation.

That's right.

After the Germans, we had you Americans.

Oh, how much nicer.

Yes, yes, yes.

Much nicer, much better.

Oh.

Yes.

My husband died two years ago. Poor Jack.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm not.

A heart attack.

Oh, I remember he had to avoid any sudden disturbance, didn't he?

That was why he always sat just here, wasn't it?

Yes, that was his chair.

His sacred chair.

I guess he was resting on his laurels, as they say, as a hero of the

resistance.

You're very clever, Bobby.

But then you always were.

I think you saw more than any of my other lotters, yes?

Did I?

Oh, I think so.

Well...

Nathalie! I heard, mon chéri.

Oh, it's you, Monsieur Simpson.

You ought to leave the door on the latch, ma 'am.

Nathalie!

It's all right, mon chéri. It's only a young American.

Well, you really are concerned about security, ma 'am.

Come in, come in.

You could save yourself a lot of trouble if you allowed me a key, you know.

I have no say in the matter, monsieur.

You don't?

My husband is... Marie!

Excuse me.

Who did you think it was, the Gestapo?

But they're gone, mon chéri.

They're gone.

Yes. Jacques was very security conscious.

Afterwards, he became obsessed with time.

Afterwards?

Oh, but he had nothing else to do.

After what?

Oh, I think he was still here when the men came for him that night.

But you must have been asleep.

Oh, yes.

But you are not Daniel.

Oh, no, no.

No, don't take it.

Madame.

But the next day he was back.

And he never left the house again?

I remember that beret he always wore.

He was afraid of grass, I think.

But not afraid of giving orders, was he?

Oh, no.

As I recall, well, you had to do everything for him.

Clean the rooms, cook, get his slippers, pipe, brandy.

I never had a moment to myself.

I didn't know how you stood it.

Oh, that's a long story.

Jacques had his qualities.

There was a time when we were very close.

Have you never loved and hated anyone, Monsieur Bobby?

I have.

Real love and real hate.

Natalie!

Just a second, mon chéri.

You should have finished the stairs by now.

Nathalie, your time is up.

Morning, madame.

Oh, mind the dust.

Nathalie!

You okay?

Nathalie!

Monsieur Véry sounds urgent.

Well, he always does.

He's obsessed with time because he has nothing else to do.

Oh.

Tell me, monsieur, will you be in for dinner?

Oh, I don't think so.

I guess I'll be on duty at H2 tonight. Our generals are dining with your

de Gaulle.

Now, there's a man.

De Gaulle, I mean.

Excuse me, monsieur.

Oui, madame.

What kept you on?

I was talking to our lord, monsieur Simpson.

He's a very nice boy.

He's interpreter at army headquarters.

Tonight he's meeting General de Gaulle.

I thought I could touch a nerve.

I need my pipe.

Oh, that makes you cough.

And you know that puts a strain on your heart.

There's nothing wrong with my heart.

Oh, Jacques.

Even though you can't go out, you should take some exercise.

What for?

It's time you went shopping.

You're already late.

Wasting the day chatting to Americans.

You really mothered me, you know.

Home from home, that's what it was.

Tell me about this book you're writing.

Oh, that's partly why I called.

It's the history of the resistance.

Oh.

Monsieur Verret was with the resistance, wasn't he?

I had hoped to talk to him about his experiences.

You see, I've already come across his name a couple of times during my

researches.

What did they say?

Oh, not much.

It's just a name along with other names.

Ah, I see.

And, of course, as I only knew him after his active days were over, I wondered

if he might have helped me.

Nathalie!

Nathalie!

There he goes again.

I have another minute.

He only wants his pipe, poor Jacques.

Why does he believe so?

He's unhappy.

Why? Oh, because... I'd better run.

Oh,

one day I'll make him run, you'll see.

It's heavy.

Open it.

You know what they say.

Every French peasant has some gold Napoleons hidden away somewhere.

Well, Jacques was a peasant at heart.

Wow.

Oh, no.

You may have them, Monsieur Bobby.

No, they're yours.

This is blood money.

I will not touch them.

Please take them give them away to a charity, please. I beg you blood money

Good on time

Cognac Cognac woman

You, Paul.

Oh, surely you... Paul!

Filthy.

This glass is filthy!

I'm sorry, I forgot my briefcase. It doesn't matter.

You're right.

Who was it?

Mr. Kingston, I forgot something.

I still need my cognac.

Oh, Jacques, it's too early. You know you drink too much as it is. Don't tell

what to do or not do.

Get me another glass and a clean one this time. No.

No, it's too early and I must finish to clean this room.

Do as I tell you. How dare you? Madame Verret, are you all right? Who said you

could come in here? Get out!

Get out! This is between us. Mr.

Verret, I don't want to hear you. Get out!

Thank you, Bobby. Please, help.

You're quiet.

You know you shouldn't get excited.

You lose your temper once too often, you know. Am I right, monsieur?

Yes, yes, just get out.

Is there anything I can do, madame? Maybe I should call a doctor. No.

No, no.

You'll be all right, monsieur, won't you?

Yes. Yes, just don't fuss for me.

You know, I think a little drop of cognac might do you good after all.

If you'll excuse me.

Oh, yes.

Thank you, miss.

Thank you.

Very kind.

And that's not all.

After they shaved him, they branded him.

There.

With the swastika.

But why?

I mean, he was... Oh, yes.

He was a good worker for the resistance for two years.

And then one evening, he went to the Gestapo.

After that, he led a double life.

One by one, he betrayed all his comrades.

But, Madame Verret, you still haven't told me why.

Well, for several reasons.

First, he thought that the resistance was futile, that the Germans had won the

war and were here to stay.

Then they offered him so much money.

And, uh, did you... Were you aware?

Yes, it's a very awkward question to ask. No.

All this time, I thought Jacques was a good and loyal Frenchman.

He deceived me, too.

Completely.

So when did you find out?

One night, when the little girl rang the doorbell late.

They took him to the courtyard of the Palais de Justice.

And they shaved him in public.

And then they branded him in public.

Then they drove him to the Bois de Boulogne.

There was a special tree there where the Gestapo used to tie the resistance boys

before shooting them.

They took him to that tree, stood in front of him with a machine gun.

But then an American military police patrol arrived.

They said that to shoot Jacques like this was illegal.

Sometimes you Americans have a very schoolboy sense of honor.

Well, Jacques was saved.

He came home and never left again.

They must have forgotten him.

I don't know why.

God knows they pursued and tried every other traitor.

I see.

And the beret covered his head while his hair grew.

Except where he was branded, of course.

I told you, hair never grows over the car.

I wish they had shot me.

Go out and they will.

Where were you?

Taking up Monsieur Bobby's breakfast.

Oh, it's Monsieur Bobby now, is it?

I like him.

He's harmless.

Has he asked you any questions about me?

Yes.

But don't worry, your secret is safe.

Quite safe.

I don't like your Monsieur Bobby.

I don't trust him at all.

I was afraid for you. That's why I asked you to leave.

Oh, you look so hurt.

But I couldn't explain it to you.

After you left, he grew fat and bullied me even more.

Oh, but now I'm so much happier.

Now that he's dead, I can do with that, please.

Oh, you're a famous author now.

Well, I wouldn't say that exactly.

Oh, yes, you are. You're too modest. I know you are.

Do you still take in lodgers?

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

After I killed Jacques, I invested his insurance in an annuity.

That isn't much, but it's enough.

I never touched this money.

Did you say killed?

Yes.

Oh, I know that God has forgiven me already.

But... Monsieur Bobby, you as an author will understand.

Writers understand everything about the human heart.

Oh, it was simple.

I just let him sit there.

I let him eat and drink and get fatter.

Until one day... Oh, I knew this would kill him.

I started to laugh at him.

He asked for his pipe, and I laughed. He asked for his cognac, and I laughed. He

asked for his newspaper, and I laughed until he stood up to strike me.

And... Left dead at my feet.

Oh, I know, I'm not to blame.

But all the same, I killed him deliberately.

Oh, yes, I did.

I see.

I don't think you put it rather strongly.

You did have cause, but I... Mr. Bobby, don't find excuses for me.

I knew what I was doing, and I enjoyed it.

I enjoyed it as much as having Jacques cremated.

Excuse me.

You're not going to answer the door?

Oh, yes, I will, in a minute.

Well, in four minutes, to be precise.

Like you kept me waiting.

Yes, I'm sorry.

But having hurried so much for Jacques, I don't hurry for anyone now.

They think I don't hear that bell.

Oh, but I do.

It's loud enough to wake up the dead, isn't it?

Even those who have been cremated.

Meanwhile, I just let him run.

Oh, that isn't sand, you know.