Original subtitles

I don't suppose you've heard the good news.

We're getting a bowling alley?

Philippe Saint-Andre

has apparently returned home.

I have a business proposition for you, Spade.

- Don't be ridiculous. - You're feeling all right?

I'm fine. Never better.

I don't know who shot Papa.

Maybe the monk?

He came right after Papa left.

He started banging on the gate with a stick.

Terribly sad. Outside of the antique, I barely got you

for St. Valentine's or whatever.

Do you still possess a working pistol?

Anyone who wants to shoot me

will have to bring their own gun.

I have no idea what that means,

but it has the ring of your usual moral foolishness.

Still, there's a madman running around.

You might want to protect yourself

with something more reliable than just your wits.

Where's Teresa?

Teresa?

Have you seen Teresa?

No.

She could have. If she left last night.

Or if someone came and took her.

Cheeky little automobile, Mr. Spade.

Out to enjoy some of that fresh country air, are we?

Something like that.

Ah, both you and the girl.

You saw her?

Yes. At dawn, I was on my way here.

The colors at sunrise are a painter's dream.

She was on the road?

She came past me.

Her shoes were muddy. As if she'd been running.

And her eyes, they were downcast. Seemingly upset.

What color were they?

I think they were--

Ah, yes. Sorry, a bit obsessed with details.

Occupational hazard, I'm afraid.

Yeah, you said she was upset?

Yes, well, I imagine the massacre

at the manor was the cause.

Oh, you heard about that, huh?

Everyone's heard about that.

From the girl?

No, I waved.

Tried to chat with her, but she just ignored me.

Can't say I blame her.

Pardon?

Teresa?

You're asking the wrong guy.

In my experience, the better souls never stand a chance.

These things will kill you.

These are the same ones doctors smoke.

I saw on TV.

Yeah, you really seem to be enjoying them.

Yeah, all right, climb down before you

make yourself dizzy and break your neck.

I'm not leaving.

Philippe's not coming.

He promised.

I'm sure he did.

Did you do this?

No. You know who did?

How could I? We're not allowed up here.

And yet, here you are.

They're all dead.

What difference did their useless rules make?

I'll tell you what.

You stay and wait for your father to show up,

smoke to your lungs' content. I'll be back at sundown.

If you're still hanging around, you come home with me.

If not, then swell knowing you and I hope

you and Philippe have a nice life on the run.

Shit!

Any idea how she ended up inside the chapel last night?

I don't play with dolls anymore.

So, no idea how she lost her head?

I gave her away years ago.

You know this car still smells like roses.

She'd bring treats to the orphanage at Christmas.

Gabrielle.

Oranges from California.

Imagine that.

Sometimes she'd bring me books or a blouse,

or some other piece of clothing she was done with.

The books were all in French.

She said that once I started to dream in French,

I'd be fluent.

She said the same to me.

Sadly for everyone, I still dream in English.

Though usually French wins.

She didn't want me to hate you,

for what you did to my father.

Get down.

Stay down.

You all right?

Mr. Spade?

Nasty business. This car's cursed.

Not the person who shot that window,

that's for sure.

Are you saying they missed on purpose?

The car was moving too slowly

for the gunman not to have hit me.

And what about the second shot?

Self-defense. I was about to run him over.

Yes, of course you were.

I'm not even sure it was meant for me.

Ah! Lovely. That's great.

That's my new neighbor.

An odd fellow.

Philippe could have taken the shot.

With Teresa in the car?

Hard to imagine even Philippe doing that.

And he's wounded, which shouldn't make him too hard

to find for a pair of top detectives like you and...

...your idiot brother.

Samuel, we talked about you using words

like "moron" and "idiot" when speaking to my brother.

Terms of endearment.

We've checked the two hospitals in the area.

No one with a bullet wound has been admitted.

Same goes for veterinarians and dentists.

Sounds like you two are right on top of things.

Mr. Spade, can I borrow your lawyer?

You were four years old.

I took her to Le Canard Noir,

that old place in Rodez.

Set me back 20 francs.

I'll take care of that.

Best 20 francs I ever spent.

With that stupid grin, I'll assume that

you and Mademoiselle Ruse are once again exchanging...

...the heat of passion.

In the General's office. On his desk.

I hope one of you didn't wrinkle Philippe's file.

Sergeant Saint-Andre's file is rather short.

On several pages, names, dates, places are blacked out.

He's army intelligence.

I'm sorry, I couldn't get more.

That's plenty.

Philippe, a spy.

I guess the war really did deplete the supply of able men.

There was something I heard, just a rumor.

Well, there's this bow near the base,

where a lot of ex-Deuxième Bureau guys hang out.

Every so often, I go there for a drink,

and the other night, there was some joking about

Saint-Andre hiding a young woman in his quarters

his last time on base.

He's probably not the first.

The woman was Algerian. No one heard her name.

Thank you, Henri. Much appreciated.

Any time.

I must confess, since I was a child,

you've been my hero.

Your hero?

Oui.

My advice, trade up.

You know what they say,

"Marry for money, divorce for love."

I thought it was, "marry for money, earn every nickel."

Which do you believe?

I'll get back to you.

You forget something, sweetheart?

We're having a swim, aren't we?

What will the gardener think?

I'm not worried about the gardener

leaving me for someone younger.

If I were you, I'd be more worried about mosquito bites.

I'm not going anywhere.

I'm just reminding you, there's more to me than my money.

How could I ever forget?

Why must the innocent always pay for the rest of us,

for our sins?

When the Nazis paid their little visit,

mother superior ran guns for the underground.

- Your point? - No one's innocent.

Still, one tries to be on the right side of things.

If only one knew what that was.

Six dead nuns, five files.

Which one is missing?

I know these women. I examined them every six months.

Three were from Spain, one was from Portugal,

and the mother superior was born here.

The last was an African. We had not yet met.

There's no file for her.

I met that one briefly.

Can I see the bodies?

Patrice had them all bagged for transport to Paris.

Does Patrice really want Paris

crawling up and down his town?

He does not,

but he understands that six massacred nuns,

or dead nuns in any number,

bring much unwanted pressure.

And Paris is better equipped.

The extent of the autopsies I can do

run from death from fall off ladder

to death from heart attack.

Don't forget boredom.

You joke, but the ministry was quite serious

and quite clear in their instruction.

I was not to touch the bodies.

Of course, they said that after I found this

around the neck of the African.

I didn't know nuns were allowed to wear jewelry.

Real nuns, that is.

We must wait for the replacement windows

to come from England.

How long?

Who shot you?

Technically, I was shot at.

Just a second.

I care about this car,

so whatever your feelings for the late Jacques Laveront,

promise me you'll take good care of her.

I'll treat the car

as I would any beautiful woman I despise,

with respect in her presence and lust in her absence.

Good, then we understand each other.

I think.

- Ciao, Anatole. - Sam.

Just happened to be passing by?

No one has been shot or shot at here for a long time.

Not since the war.

And that was collaborators killing partisans

and partisans killing collaborators,

not some crazy person executing nuns.

There's been another war since, in case you've forgotten.

And we both know that one's made plenty of people

crazy and desperate.

This is not really about people though.

This is about you.

There are six dead women who might say otherwise.

That was yesterday.

Today someone shot at you.

But you're not worried about me.

Could Jean-Pierre have done this?

Sure, he could have, but he didn't.

How do you know?

He's all talk. But murder, no.

Jean-Pierre would disagree.

So would every man who went to war.

That's why they give them medals,

with snappy uniforms to pin them on.

That way, whenever they look in a mirror,

they see a soldier.

And what about the man who burns his uniform

and sells his medals?

What does he see?

You may think you understand him,

but you make him feel small.

You make most men feel small.

That's because they don't know me.

Then, I've never much cared what other men thought of me.

Not caring doesn't make one bulletproof.

You should needle point that one on a pillow.

Sometimes, Sam...

Spade, I'd like you to meet my mother.

Lady Cynthia, Sam Spade.

How do you do, Mr. Spade?

I've been better.

I'm so sorry for invading your devastatingly attractive

home without being asked, but George said he--

he didn't think you'd mind.

I don't. Nice to meet you.

Oh, Mr. Spade.

Um, please feel free to say no,

but may I ask you an enormous favor?

Sure, you can ask.

I've never seen the landscape

my husband painted for your late wife.

Um, would you mind, terribly,

if I came inside with you and took a peek?

May I come, too?

I-- I haven't laid eyes on that painting

since the day of the unveiling.

More the merrier.

Ah. Ah.

George and I have rented the villa next door.

Uh, we're neighbors.

Though, of course, it's hardly as scrumptious as all this.

Gabrielle's family got the house on the cheap.

The previous owner died suddenly.

- Oh. - He was guillotined.

In fact, he got his head chopped off

right after Marie Antoinette.

Oh, dear.

Mother, he's pulling your leg.

Oh, capital.

Oh, you'll find I'm extremely gullible, Mr. Spade.

Somehow, I doubt that.

Oh, thank you.

George, look at this marvelous place.

Oh, they don't make them like this anymore, do they?

Ooh, oh, oh.

It's just wonderful!

Yes, Mother, notice the shadowing.

- Ah. - Ah.

Singeon's sense of color was always divine.

And look, George, look how he's captured

the-- the delicate flesh tones of this lovely, naked lady.

Well, I'll leave you two to show yourselves out.

Yes, thank you so much.

Awfully kind of you.

Oh, one more thing.

I believe we have a mutual friend,

Philippe Saint-Andre.

I wouldn't say that Philippe and I are friends,

more like, a long time ago, we bumped into each other.

Oh, oh, I-- I-- I-- I see.

Well, I-- I hear he's returned to Bazuel.

I would love to say hello.

I'm afraid I can't help you.

I've no idea where he is.

Mm, pity.

How do you know Philippe?

Well, uh, years ago,

he purchased one of my husband's masterpieces.

- Really? - Mm.

He paid a generous sum for it, too.

Are you sure we're talking about

the same Philippe Saint-Andre?

The Philippe I know isn't one to part with a generous sum,

or any kind of sum,

for anything that he could just as easily take.

No.

Well, this morning, I had to get a ride from Basem

to buy two new tires.

You had to slash the spare, too?

I don't know what you're talking about.

You sound like your mother.

That was her favorite answer to every question.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

It was like a tick.

And that's what you get

for saying such things about my mother.

Are you all right?

Are you sick?

Couldn't be better.

Just tell me where you saw this glint.

Yeah, no one's gonna take a shot from there.

What's that? Is that a clue?

Right now, it's just an empty pack of cigarettes.

Well, they haven't been here very long.

Really?

Yeah, it was windy last night,

so if the pack was here before,

it would've been covered in leaves.

Interesting theory.

Okay, tell me what you saw in the chapel.

I'm really hungry.

Teresa.

Helena said she's making me ravioli.

What did you see in the chapel?

I told you.

That monk fellow hit the mother superior

and then we all ran away.

Yeah, you said that before, and you were very convincing,

but someone locked the kids in the closet,

and this morning, someone took a shot at you.

At me?

To scare you, to keep you from talking,

which means you either saw something you shouldn't have

seen or you know something you shouldn't know.

Why did Philippe come running to you?

I'm his daughter.

You're his daughter, yet he didn't feel the need

to fill you in on who shot him and why?

He was protecting me from knowing things I shouldn't.

Protecting you how?

By then, just leaving you alone?

My father didn't come to see me.

He was there to meet someone else,

one of the sisters.

Which one?

The new one, soeur Angelique.

Then his plans changed when he got shot.

Yeah, that's them.

"Them"? What, the kid was with her?

No, he came a month later with Papa.

So, Philippe shows up wounded, with a kid,

and tells you what?

To hide the boy

while he found a place to stay and got patched up.

He said he'd come back for us in a day.

He leaves the kid with you, takes off,

and the monk comes knocking.

I was hiding Zahid in the tower

when I heard the kids screaming.

They were running from the chapel.

They said a priest hit... mother superior.

So, you didn't actually see him hit her

like you've been saying?

No.

Then what? You locked the kids in the closet?

To keep them safe.

Shh, shh!

I ran back to my room.

And heard the first gunshot.

The monk was shouting.

He was telling soeur Angelique that she had to watch

while he asked each of them where the boy was.

And when they wouldn't say...

...he shot them...

...one by one.

I tried to close my eyes, but I couldn't look away.

And then...

Then what?

He saw me.

So, you told him where the boy was?

No.

You weren't afraid?

I had my knife.

Well, sadly, I lost it.

In the chapel?

In the monk.

I ran to the bell tower, but the boy was gone.

Who is this kid

that someone would kill six people to find him?

I don't know.

But right before he killed her...

Soeur Angelique said something.

The Mahdi?

What the hell has your father gotten you into?

♪ Let's play a game, you and I, called "I won't lie to Sam."

We got a meeting with the bishop. Want to come along?

As long as no one asks me to confess.

Mr. Spade, do you have any specific information you want to share?

I just did.

I need to find Philippe.

If I want you dead, I just have to wait.

You want to have a real conversation,

knock on my door.