All language subtitles for Destroying Angel (1990)

So sad what hate can do

I didn't want to cause you much
pain. I'll never love you again

♫ You child, your love for me was so wild

♫ Sleep well, my love, sleep well, my love

♫ This is my night to you

♫ Sleep well, my love, sleep well, my love

♫ You taught my things

♫ Sleep well, my love, sleep well, my love

♫ I can no longer feel your fear

♫ I know the end is near

In the kitchen!

Tortilla.

Español.

Smells good.

Do you always cook for yourself?

I'm hardly ever here.

Looks not ever.

We've still got three maids at the house.

What time's she coming
to collect you tomorrow?

In the afternoon sometime, worse luck.

She'll have that awful Victor with her.

Have you met him?

I'm not really interested in
your mother's companions.

I call him King Kong.

He's only about 19, but
he looks just like an ape.

Have you got a mistress?

No.

Why not?

Because I don't want one. I'm too busy.

Besides,

I have to keep my
weekends free for you, don't I?

Every third weekend?

Why can't I always stay with you?

You know there's nothing
I can do about it, Siska.

If I could, I would.

Why can't I?

Mama doesn't even like me.

I know, my darling.

The divorce court
seemed to think that little

girls are better off
with their mothers.

I'm not a little girl any longer.

Haven't you noticed?

Anyway, it's silly to say
I'm better off with Mama.

She goes to bars and discos and
things to pick them up now, did you know?

They always have black
jackets, short hair and tattoos.

Mama sends me to bed to watch TV.

But I can usually hear them
doing it through the walls.

Anyone would think I'm
completely corrupted by now.

Mmm, delicious.

What shall we do tonight?

Whatever you like, my darling.

Would you like to go to another movie?

There's nothing else worth seeing.

Let's just stay in.

All right.

Thank you.

What's the matter?

I always used to come into
your bed on Sunday mornings.

And we played tickling games, remember?

Games.

Like this.

Wait here, Victor,
darling. I shan't be long.

You can come off if you want to,

but somehow I don't think you and
Reynold would have much in common.

I'm sorry, darlings. I'm rather early.

So this is what you get
up to every third weekend.

It never happened before.
It'll never happen again.

It wasn't his fault.

Stay out of this, you little slut.

I'll take after you then, don't I?

Go and pack your things. I
want to talk to your father.

What are you going to do?

That depends, darling.

What do you mean?

Obviously, you never
want me to see her again.

I can understand that.

But I am still her father.

If there was some way,
sometime in the future,

some way of seeing her again,
with someone else present,

of course.

Of course, darling.

As a matter of fact, I don't see why she

shouldn't go on visiting you
on the current arrangement.

What?

Yes.

With one or two changes, naturally.

Yes.

Yes, you could come with her.

I mean, that would be expected.

I must say, you're being
very understanding about this,

Maria.

You don't seriously expect
me to drag myself around here

every month, do you?

I can't bear to spend five minutes

in the same room with you.

The changes I had in mind were
to the financial arrangements,

darling.

The allowance you give me
for Siska's upkeep, for example.

I think we should start
thinking in five figures, a month,

just to start with.

See how it goes.

You'd let her visit me?

You'd let her visit me alone?

After we, I, just as long as
I increase your allowance.

My god, Maria.

Oh, her mother.

And you, Reynold, are her father,

although you seem to
have forgotten evidently.

So you can cut the high
moral tone for a start.

I've just caught you in bed
with your daughter, remember?

Oh, god.

Oh, god, I'm so ashamed.

Think about it.

I'll call you in a fortnight.

You're obviously suffering
from post-coital depression.

I'm sure you'll get over it.

Siska, will you hurry up? I'm late.

Five figures, darling. Don't forget.

How's the writing going, Mr. Bartow, sir?

Badly.

Oh, you work too hard, Mr. Bartow, sir.

Every day I hear you, bang, bang, bang.

You better relax tonight, sir.

I didn't come here to relax.

I came here to work.

Oh, everyone needs to relax.

If you'd like a nice companion for tonight,

my sister would be very happy to practice

her English with you.

Last time I spent an evening
with one of your sisters,

she stole my wallet, remember?

The key, please.

Grand Hotel Palace.

Oh, one moment, please, madame.

Yes, we have a very nice suite
that has just become available.

I'm sure we'll be able to fit you in.

Good.

But it must be facing the sea.

I don't want anything at the back.

It isn't?

Good.

Thurot.

T-U-R-O-T.

Yes, there'll be the three of us.

And Mr. Thurot, yes.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

Idiot.

Reynold.

Yes, we are at the villa.

No, I've booked us into that
place we stayed last September.

That's right.

Otto, can you do that somewhere else?

I'm trying to make a
long-distance telephone call.

What was that?

No, we've got the
builders in at the moment.

She's fine.

She's longing to see you.

You got her postcard from Aspen?

We had a lovely time.

Siska, darling.

Come and say hello to your papa.

Siska.

Hello, Daddy.

Hello, my darling.

See you tomorrow, then?

Yes.

I love you, darling.

I love you too, Daddy.

There's a good girl.

Why do we have to go?

We've only just got back from America.

Come on, darling.

It's only for a couple of days.

I don't want to go.

Darling, you've just had an
extremely expensive skiing holiday.

Now there are your school fees.

Why can't Daddy pay for all that anyway?

Other fathers do.

My school friends all go
skiing, but they don't have to.

Jesus!

Not in front of Otto.

We have to pay for our stupid
boyfriends as well, don't we?

I have to pay for them.

And Daddy says he loves
me, but he doesn't, does he?

He's just using me, like you.

Neither of you care
what I feel about anything.

You, my darling, are
a shameless little slut.

And now you're tired of it, are you?

All right.

I'll call the school and tell them
you won't be coming back next term.

Shall I?

No.

Please, don't.

Don't phone the school.

It's all I've got.

I hate you. I hate both of you.

I wish you were both dead!

I'll give you a ring, Otto, darling.

There's no need to look like that.

You know perfectly
well I have to take Siska

to see her father once a month.

I'm an ex-wife and a mother, darling.

Go break dancing or something.

Ah, madame. Welcome.

You understand, madame?
It is the off-season.

Many of the suites are being redecorated.

I'm sorry. You told me on the telephone
you had suites overlooking the sea.

Now you tell me you haven't.

What kind of hotel is this?

I'm sorry, madame. I made a mistake.

I'm sorry.

My God!

You could have the two large
rooms on the second floor, madame.

They're next to each other
with balcony and sea view.

Well, that will have to do, I suppose.

But I want to see these rooms
first that you are talking about.

Grand Hotel Palace?

Just one moment, please.

Mr. Bertow, sir. A telephone call for you.

Your publishers.

Right, thanks.

Well, madame.

I'll see the rooms first, please.

Yes, of course.

We're here, darling.

You're not going to publish it?

Is that what you mean?

Kids discovering each other
during the summer vacation.

It's been done to death, Tom.

Thirty years ago.

No such thing as a 16
year old virgin these days.

Didn't you know that?

I don't know any 16
year olds well enough

to ask them if they're
still virgins or not.

Jesus!

You can imagine things, can't you?

You still there?

Yeah, I'm still here.

I thought that's what writers did.

Imagine things.

Don't tell me Harold Robbins
screwed all those people.

I don't believe it.

You want me to rewrite
the book, is that it?

You bet I want you to rewrite it.

Start off the same way if you like.

A nice young girl staying
in a summer house,

there's nothing wrong with that.

When we meet her in
chapter one, she's still a virgin.

I'm with you so far.

But sure as hell she won't be a
virgin by the time we get to chapter two.

Not the way you're going to
rewrite it. You got that clear?

You want her to do it with
an Alsatian in chapter three?

That's the sort of thing you want?

Just get writing, okay?

If I don't get something
I can publish soon,

I might just ask for that advance back.

Talk to you soon, Tom.

Bastard.

Hello, Sisko.

Flowers from Siska, darling.

Thank you, madame.

What's the matter, darling?

Nothing.

Don't you enjoy it anymore?

I don't mind.

But you don't like doing it anymore, hmm?

Why do I have to like it? Why?

It doesn't make any difference to you.

You get what you want, don't you?

Of you, Siskel.

Don't talk like that. Don't! Don't! Don't!

But it's true, my darling.

It's not true.

You used to, when I was little.

But you don't now, do you?

Not since all this.

Siskel, I'm sorry.

Stop it. Stop it.

I'm sorry.

Don't touch me.

God!

I told you, I don't mind.

Just don't talk about it, Daddy, okay?

We can stop if you want to.

Mother wouldn't let us.

She'd tell the police or something.

I don't want that to happen to you.

Honestly.

I know that, darling.

Tell me something.

Do you think things would
be different between us...

if your mother wasn't around?

Maybe.

I don't know.

I don't know, Daddy.

I hate her.

She's made it like this.

What do you mean, if she wasn't around?

If she fell under a bus, you mean?

No, not exactly.

Well, I wouldn't mind if she did.

I'd push her myself if I
could get away with it.

But murderers always
get caught, don't they?

Not always.

Do you really think things would
be different if you were free of her?

I don't know.

Stop asking me things all the time.

I'm getting cold.

We're late for dinner anyway.

Maybe afterwards.

I see you took my advice, Mr. Berton, sir.

You have taken the evening off.

Relax tonight.

You, uh, want me to
telephone my sister for you?

You never give up, do you?

You should make the acquaintance
of Madame Thuron, Mr. Berton, sir.

She like to relax very much.

I know that, Mr. Berton.

Last summer, I arranged for
her to have her car serviced.

Know what I mean?

I can't imagine.

You'd like I introduce you, Mr. Baritone?

No, thanks.

I only use computer dating services.

$200,000.

That's outrageous, Maria.

Don't push me too far.

I'll push you as far as I like.

Unless you want to
have a chat to the police.

Look, do we have to
discuss this in front of...

The children.

I've got you by the balls, darling.

So you had better just arrange what I want.

You do want to see Sisker again, I suppose.

You know I do.

Fine.

Then give me my allowance.

I can't get that amount of money here.

I'll have to get a bank draft.

That means going to Zurich.

Suit yourself. We can wait.

How long will it take?

A couple of days.

No problem.

We can find something to amuse ourselves.

You've always loved being at the
seaside, haven't you, Sisker darling?

You're bleeding me
dry, you mercenary bitch.

That's her ex.

Her ex what?

Husband.

Don't tell me.

They come here once a year to relive
the finest moments of their wedding night.

Just for old times' sake.

They got separate rooms, Mr. Berto, sir.

On the same floor as yours.

Know what I mean?

Hmm. Who's our fellow guest?

Interested.

Oh, he's not really my type, darling.

I'm sure he isn't. He's a writer.

I heard him getting a call
from his publisher this morning.

So he's no good for you.

You like them really stupid, don't you?

Like Otto.

Sometimes a woman craves a
more intellectual relationship, darling.

Stop doing that. You look grotesque.

I'll start flirting with him in a minute.

You wouldn't stand a
chance then, would you?

You are so conceited.

He's far too old for you, Siska darling.

Daddy wasn't too old for
me. Was he, Mummy darling?

Can I have a mineral
water with gas, please?

Can I get you a drink?

It appears we're the only guests.

No point in ignoring each other.

What'll you have?

That's very kind.

Gin and tonic, please.

Celebrating, Mr...?

Berto. Tom Berto.

Hardly. I'm drowning my sorrows.

I just had my first rejection in 20 years.

That's nothing to be ashamed of, Mr. Berto.

I'm sure even Casanova didn't
have a 100% success rate all the time.

Madame?

Thank you.

What does that make
your school for this week?

It's only Thursday.
I'm still working on it.

What's your room number, baby?

A joke.

No, it's not that sort of
rejection. It's my publisher.

I've just been rejected by my publishers.

You're a writer. How fascinating.

How I envy you to have the power
of life and death over your creatures.

Share in their passion.

Create their love, hate, jealousy.

My room's 201, by the way.

Next door, but one to yours.

Would you like a drink?

Oh, nothing alcoholic, please, Mr. Bartow.

She's far too young.

I'll have a tequila sunrise.

Ah, come on, that's OK, isn't it?

Not every day that I have a novel rejected.

Hey, one tequila sunrise.

OK, Mr. Bartow, sir.

I've never met a proper writer before.

I think I'm about to become an ex-writer.

Apparently, I'm a husband.

My publisher says I don't
understand young people anymore.

Ask me.

You can use me as a model.

I'm a fairly typical teenager,
wouldn't you say, mama darling?

As a matter of fact, I have a lot of
connections in the media, Mr. Bartow.

I'm sure I can help you find
a more sympathetic publisher.

Tequila sunrise.

Thank you.

Really?

Connections?

The name's Tom, by the way.

Would you have another drink?

Maria.

Maria Turo.

No, thanks.

I'm fine at the moment.

And I'm Siske.

Tell me about the book, Tom.

The one you said your publisher's rejected.

I've never read any of your books, but
I'm seldom wrong about artistic people.

Well, it's called Indian Summer.

What's it about?

Geriatric sex?

Is that what it sounds like?

Actually, it's based on my own
experiences when I was about your age.

It's about a boy and a
girl growing up and so on.

The discovery of self.

That's it.

Exactly.

Most of the book takes place at
a summer house on Long Island,

which belongs to the girl's parents.

The first chill of autumn is coming on.

There's this brief spell of glorious
weather, the Indian summer.

When the girl and the boy have
this very charming love affair.

Very hesitant.

Pure, almost.

Do they fuck or not?

Do they fuck in the
book, the boy and the girl?

Please, take no notice of her, Tom.

She's trying to draw attention
to herself like a spoiled child.

Do go on, Tom. It sounds very interesting.

You think so?

Just to answer your question, they, uh, do.

Twice, in fact.

Once at the end of the summer,
which doesn't work out too well.

Their Dillick love affair seems to be over.

But both families spend that
Christmas on Long Island.

They do it again.

They do?

This really sounds like very
good material to me, Tom.

You're obviously with the wrong publisher.

You must let me see if I
can find you a better one.

Thanks, I appreciate that.

A fresh one.

Okay, madame.

But how do you describe it?

The fucking part.

That's what matters when
you're a writer, isn't it?

Our teacher always tells
us, it's not what you describe,

it's how you describe it.

I mean, do you say cock
or prick or dick or what?

Or fuck or fornicate or screw or buy or...

Siska!

Quiet.

Sorry, Tom. She's being
deliberately provoking.

No, no, I take her point.

Obviously, it's a problem.

Look, I try to do it subtly, okay?

Nothing too obvious.

Mama doesn't do it subtly, do you, mother?

She's very obvious.

Enough.

She likes doing it with duckers
and mechanics and people like that.

Usually three at a time.

It doesn't matter how stupid they
are, as long as they've got big dicks.

Shut up.

She even used to do it in the same
room as me when I was a little girl.

Franziska!

Go upstairs.

Go on. Get out of here.

I'm trying to have an intelligent
conversation with Mr. Battle.

I don't want to hear
this gutter talk from you.

Go upstairs. That's what
it always comes to, isn't it?

Go.

All right, I'm going.

You stay here and talk about art and
literature and whatever you want to.

And I'll go upstairs.

After all, that's what
we're here for, isn't it?

I hate you! I wish somebody
would put you under a bus!

I'm sorry about that, Tom.

She's at a very difficult age, you know.

You're not too shocked.

No, no.

It was an education, really.

My publisher was right.

I do need to study young people more.

Yes, I noticed how much Siska
has obviously fascinated you.

Now, tell me about this book of yours.

Ah, yeah.

Where were we?

They'd just done it again,
darling, at Christmas.

Gunter, it's me.

Listen, you remember the job we discussed?

Found someone already, that's excellent.

No, no, she's pushing me too far.

I can't see any alternative.

Away, please.

Someone at the door.

Come in, darling. I won't be a moment.

I'm on the telephone.

Good, sir. Sorry about that.

No. No, no.

It's the day after tomorrow.

Yes, I know. I realize that, but
they may not be another opportunity.

See what you can do.

I'll pay what he's asking,
yes, but give him a try.

If he answers, just call me back.
Now, has he worked for us before?

Is he the guy who did the Hungarian job?

No, no. Professional job. No traces.

All right. Talk to you later.

That's what they want these days.

Pornography.

More or less.

You mustn't compromise yourself, Tom.

You could be one of the
major novelists of our time.

I know it.

Major novelists usually
have private incomes,

while there's still minor novelists.

I've got a living to make somehow.

I have a private income.

At least I have a very rich ex-husband,

which comes to the same thing.

And what does that mean?

I don't see why Reynolds shouldn't
subsidize the arts for a change.

He's never read a book in his life.

He used to read bank statements
in bed when we were married.

Hey, what is this? You're
not serious, are you?

Oh, I'm serious, Tom.

I want to be involved with
somebody of real talent,

not a walking computer like Reynolds.

My experience with this man seared me,

led me into a meaningless
succession of one-night stands.

You know what I mean.

You end up just as lonely.

Yeah.

Yeah, I know what you mean.

You ever read the classifieds
in the New York Review?

Caring novelist, 40-ish,

seeks highly attractive soulmates

with private income.

Serious inquiries only to box number 240.

This is a serious inquiry, Tom.

Let's go upstairs.

This isn't happening to me.

Oh, yes, it is, darling.

A telephone call, Mr. Bertelser.

Who is it?

Your son, sir, I think.

I'd better take it.

Don't go away.

You're married?

Divorced.

I hardly ever see my son.

He's 19 years old.

He's away on some trip somewhere,

probably calling from Japan or something.

It's long distance, sir.

Shall we say, see you in
my room in five minutes?

Room 201, darling.

How are you?

Yeah, yeah, I'm still
working on the new novel.

I don't know yet, I'm still working on it.

I'm gonna change my style apparently.

The last three flopped.

Yeah.

Where are you?

Where?

Everything okay, sir?

Yeah, fine. Listen.

Do you know Madame Thoreau's room number?

It's completely gone out of my head.

Two-zero-something.

You shouldn't forget things like that, sir.

Look, I've had a lot to drink.

Are you gonna tell me or not?

They got two rooms.

They wanted a suite, but you're
in the only one that's available.

You know how it is, Mr. Berthoud.

Off-season.

The number!

201 or 202.

And you don't know which one
Madame Thoreau is occupying.

Forget it. I'll find it myself.

Oh, Daddy, no.

Stop.

Please.

You're hurting me.

Maria?

I kept you, darling.

You spoke to your son?

Yeah.

He's in Rio de Janeiro.

I've always wanted to go to Rio de Janeiro.

We'll go, darling.

We'll go.

What the hell?

Yes?

You can. That's excellent. I
knew I could rely on you, Gunther.

Yes, yes, make the first payment.
The remainder on completion.

All right?

Okay.

This one.

You are a connoisseur
of fine wines, Genovale.

You know that wine you recommended?

Yes, one of my favorites, as it happens.

Dry, crisp, mascoupié, with
a subtle bite that marks it

as one of the great vintages.

Exactly.

And as you seem so knowledgeable,

I'm surprised that you should
choose such a cheap wine,

quite frankly, especially
as I'm paying for it.

The wine you chose was also a cheap wine.

Believe me, Signor, I know.

I've done business in this area.

Do you know what it is, this
subtle bite you so admire?

It is the taste of ethylene
glycol, antifreeze.

That did not catch everybody, Signor.

You've made the first payment?

Yes, my partner paid it in this
morning to your Zurich account.

There could be problems.

My wife, my ex-wife, has
taken a lover into the hotel.

She's always taking
lovers, as a matter of fact.

That is why.

No, no, no.

Not the jealous husband syndrome, no.

This is strictly business.

You're saying that this
man, it is a man, I presume?

Yes, of course it is.

This man will be with the
target when I make contact?

Possibly, probably, knowing her, yes.

Two targets, two fees.

All right, I agree to your terms.

This man, the lover, I
do not know his face.

It will be dark, you understand?

I shall have a photograph
of the target, huh?

Yes, of course.

So there will be no mistake.

But if, for example, the target is at
that moment called for room service,

and I eliminate the waiter by accident,

you will pay for every
bullet, you understand?

Agreed.

And if the balance is not paid, senor,

and you must listen to
me very carefully now,

if the balance is not paid,
there will be another bullet,

sometime, somewhere, for you.

A photograph?

Such a waste, senor.

I hope you're enjoying the wine, senor.

You're always safe with
a communist vintage.

It's only the capitalists who find
it necessary to lace their wine.

I've been looking all my
life for somebody like you.

And now I've found
you, I'm not letting you go.

There's something I have
to tell all serious applicants.

I'm broke.

My royalties won't keep
me, let alone the two of us.

And I'm putting my son through college.

I can take care of all that, darling.

You won't have any more money worries.

Just concentrate on your writing.

Nobody likes being a kept man.

You wouldn't be one, darling.

You'd be writer in residence.

There's the big house,
plenty of domestic staff.

You could work there.

Or there's the villa.

The house, the villa,
everything is all yours.

I don't want you giving
up anything for me, OK?

Do you want an inventory
of the silver or something?

You sound rather mercenary all of a sudden.

I'm not bothered, but you would be.

I can't see you living in
some grubby little attic.

Well, technically, everything does

belong to Reynold, of course.

But he's got his own apartment now.

He wouldn't bother us.

It all comes to me after he's dead anyway.

And Sisker, of course.

We inherit jointly.

So I might as well have
the use of everything

while he's still alive.

I mean, it's only fair, isn't it?

And you reckon Reynold
will go on being so obliging,

even after you're married to somebody else?

I have ways of keeping him generous.

There's something I
think you ought to know.

It's about Siska.

But I'm beginning to
think you know already.

What do you mean, darling?

I went into the wrong room by mistake...

on my way up to you last night.

I did know which room was yours.

I went into room 202.

I couldn't help seeing.

Reynold and Siska...

in flagrante delicto.

I think that's how they
describe it in court.

How long have you known?

A couple of years.

I caught them at it.

Somebody ought to kill that bastard.

That poor kid.

Don't waste your sympathy, darling.

You've seen what she's like.

She can't get enough of it.

And meanwhile, you've got
Reynold nicely where you want him.

With his hand on his checkbook, darling.

Well, I'm not sure that I
want to finance my writing on...

what Siska does with her
father, thank you very much.

Besides...

haven't you ever stopped to
think what all this is doing to that girl?

You're right, darling.

It would be far better for all of us...

if Reynold were out
of the way altogether.

What the hell are you suggesting?

If he were dead, darling.

You said so yourself just a moment ago.

I couldn't agree with you more.

A man's a complete monster.

Killing him would be
almost a public service.

Wouldn't it?

You want me to kill your ex-husband?

Me kill Reynold?

Are you crazy?

I'm just thinking of the
practicalities of the situation, darling.

Practicalities? Jesus!

You're serious about this, aren't you?

Of course, darling.

Look, I don't know what
sort of man you think I am...

but I'm not capable of taking
another person's life in cold blood...

so let's just forget about it.

Maybe I'm a washed-up writer.

Maybe I'm a washed-up human being.

But I'm not a killer.

Understand?

You understand?

I shall strike the target
at midnight as agreed.

Yes, you should be in a suitably
vulnerable position by then.

A bitch.

She'll have her husband's in
Rome, you disappoint me, senor.

So, we will rendezvous again tomorrow
somewhere near the target area...

at, say, 11 p.m., precisely.

Yes.

I shall need a plan of the hotel...

which also shows the
location of the main fuse box.

You will remember that.

Yes.

Of course, I will also
need the keys to your car.

Ah, you can have them now.

I have a spare set.

But I still don't see why it's
necessary for you to have my car.

The unknown assassin, thief, whatever...

maybe he's another of the lovers.

Your jealous lover, senor.

Remember that when the
police question you, senor.

Yes.

This man will find the
keys to your car in the room.

You lent the target
your car for the weekend.

Remember that also.

A larky for the jealous lover.

Naturally, he steals the car.

The police will look for it, of course.

It will be their only lead.

After 24 hours, maybe, they will find it.

By then, I will be far away.

And you too, I think.

It is better.

Yes, I'm booked on a
late flight tomorrow night...

with my daughter.

What age is she?

Teenager.

She knows nothing of all this?

No.

And obviously, I won't tell her anything.

But it may be difficult
to keep things from her.

She's a bright girl.

She may guess.

I may have to involve her.

It is your choice.

There will be no traces
as far as I am concerned.

Well, I'm delighted to hear that.

Goodbye.

Till tomorrow.

Yes.

What will you do?

Go back to my apartment.

What about me?

Come on.

I'm sure you'll find some other sucker

to do your dirty work for you.

Just take a walk on the beach.

This town's full of
riders down on their luck.

It meant nothing to you then?

Just another one night stand.

Don't you love me just a little bit, Tom?

Not if the only way I can prove it

is by killing your ex-husband.

And what about Siska?

Aren't you going to say goodbye to her?

She really wants you for a stepfather, Tom.

She's going to be very
disappointed if you leave now.

I've seen the way you look at her.

You really care about her, don't you?

Well, that's the way it's
going to be, just the three of us.

Don't go.

Please stay.

Stay, Tom.

I call room service.

Madame Thurot, she asked
me to bring you some breakfast,

Mr. Berthoud, sir.

I thought maybe you'd
be interested in this book,

Mr. Berthoud, sir.

Maybe later, when you run out of ideas,

it has some very unusual suggestions,

if you know what I mean, sir.

Get out of here. Go on.

Get out.

Very good, Mr. Berthoud, sir.

Have a good breakfast, sir.

And don't forget, Mr. Berthoud, sir,

tonight is masquerade, sir.

Come on.

Answer, you bastard!

Yes.

Oh, hi.

What do you mean, now?

Come on, darling. It'll only take
a couple of hours to drive down.

No, it can't wait till
Monday, as it happens.

You do want your birthday
present, don't you, darling?

Uh-huh.

Yes.

No, don't come to the hotel.

It's just not possible, that's all.

I'll meet you down at the harbour.

You know, where the boats are.

Me too.

Bye, darling.

I gotta go to work.

When you are a stud, sweetheart,
you have to do what your punters want.

I'm going shopping, darling.

Otto always stops if I
don't buy him a present.

He's actually going to do it.

Well, I should hope so, darling.

He's not the world's
greatest conversationalist.

Not Otto. Tom.

He's really going to kill my...

That depends on you, doesn't it?

He's not going to do it
for an old bag like you.

Is that what you mean?

Well, let's hope he's going
to do it for a slut like you.

How do you know I'm
not going to tell Daddy?

Taking a bit of a risk, aren't you?

Siska, dear, you take after your mother.

You know which side your bread is buttered.

Have a nice morning, darling.

Well, do you want me
to come in or don't you?

Sure.

Maria sent you.

So what if she did?

I wouldn't have come if I hadn't wanted to.

What's the matter?

Nothing.

It's just that...

Well, it's a bit like having a...

Call girl sent up from reception.

Yeah.

No, it isn't.

I've never been with anybody else.

You don't believe me, do you?

You think Mama hires me out to
every randy old man that fancies me.

All right. I'll go if
that's what you think.

No, please. Don't go. Stay.

Is that what I am to you?

A randy old man?

Oh, come on.

Mama says you're going to be my stepfather.

I thought we'd better see how we get along.

Help me off with my jeans then.

Come on then.

Off, go on.

Okay.

Yes, I am.

I'm gay.

Well, come on, then.

What are you waiting for?

No. Sorry, I can't. Not now.

You're right. I'm sorry.

What the hell am I thinking about?

Would you like a Coke?

You'll find one in the fridge.

Well, get it for me then. I'm the guest.

And you're younger than me. You get it.

Are you going to kill my father?

She told you?

More or less.

Well, are you or aren't you?

Do you want me to?

He's your father.

Yes.

I want you to.

Because I hate him.

Not because of the money.

Mama wants you to do it
so she'll get all his money.

It's a pity you can't
kill both of them, really.

I hate her even more than I hate him.

Then I'd be free, wouldn't I?

I don't believe this.

No.

It's all right.

Just kill him.

For me.

But be careful of Mama.

She's probably planning
to set you up, you know.

Land you with the police afterwards.

Don't worry.

I won't let her.

I'm really looking forward
to you as my stepfather.

How are you going to do it?

Am I going to do it?

Yes.

You are.

I wait in the car park.

When he comes out, I hit
him with a rock or something

so it looks like an accident later.

After, I put the car over a cliff.

Further down the coast somewhere.

Suicide, not accident.

He couldn't take it anymore.

The shame of what he was doing to me.

I'll tell the police all
about it, of course.

Did she tell you to wear gloves?

I'll lend you a pair of mamas.

That'll serve her right.

You mustn't leave fingerprints.

You're mad, you know that?

So's your mother.

And I must be mad
getting involved with all this.

So you will do it?

For me?

I knew you would.

Thank you, Otto, darling.

You've no idea how much I needed that.

Siska, dear. Had a nice morning?

Well?

He'll do it.

What a clever little girl.

Not so clever.

You're quite sure?

He'll do anything for me.

But don't you try and double-cross
him or me, understand?

I really want him as my stepfather.

Fishing any good?

Hello, Tom.

I thought it was you.

Have a good morning.

Yeah, so soon.

I saw Raynaud.

He gave me rather a
paltry little banker's draft.

Nothing like what I asked him for.

Still, that's the good news.

At least we can go to, uh,
where was it you wanted to go?

Rio de Janeiro.

What's the bad news?

He's leaving tonight around 11 o'clock.

Some business meeting
in Zurich or something.

I don't know when we're going
to have another opportunity

like this, Tom.

Siska says you're going to help us.

Where is she?

With Raynaud.

She'll keep him busy till tonight.

We don't want him getting suspicious.

It's got to be tonight, Tom.

We're not going to do it here, are we?

Siska, please, I told you.

I want to have a serious talk with you.

It's a bit late to tell
me the facts of life

now, especially in your case.

Siska, listen to me.

I'm leaving tonight for Zurich.

I want you to come with me.

It is my intention that neither of us

should ever see your mother again.

Remember, you told me
things might be better if we didn't

have this allowance business?

We can't.

She won't let us.

That bastard Victor, remember him?

Yes.

We bought him a camera,
and she's got pictures of us.

I've seen some of them.

She could get you arrested.

Me too, probably.

I made arrangements to
prevent that happening.

What sort of arrangements?

It's better you know nothing about it.

There's only one way to
stop mother turning you in,

Isn't there?

You're going to kill her.

You're not going to
do it yourself, are you?

What time are we leaving?

So you do want to come.

You don't mind about
what's going to happen?

When is it going to happen?

Tonight.

That is why we have to go.

Oh, daddy, it'll be wonderful.

Let me help.

Please let me.

I must share it with you
because I've only got you,

haven't I?

You're my whole life.

I want to be in it with you.

You can't.

You mustn't be involved.

But I am involved.

I'm going to live with you.

You don't trust me.

That's why you won't tell me anything.

You don't love me.

Of course I love you, Siska.

Then why won't you tell me anything?

Because it's very dangerous, my darling.

But I'm not afraid.

We're together now.

Let me help, daddy, please.

Oh, Siska.

I'm tired.

I'm not surprised.

Going to bed. I'll say goodbye, Daddy.

Goodbye. Have a good journey.

Goodbye, my darling.

I see you in three weeks.

About ten minutes.

Well, don't be late
for your plane, darling.

There's nothing to stay for here.

This is hardly a showstopper, is it?

Mr. Balpay?

Mr. Balpay!

Looking for me, you
renal troll's daughter, huh?

He told me everything. I
know why you've come here.

I brought you the map
of the hotel you wanted.

Daddy couldn't get away.

You're good at keeping secrets,
aren't you, Teller's daughter?

That is a fuse box.

Yes.

I've got a message for you.

My mother and her lover
are leaving the hotel tonight.

We've only just found out.

But they'll be in room 201
for the next 20 minutes or so.

I've just had a meal sent out.

So you've got to do it
now, not at midnight.

My father said to tell you...

Changes of plan at the last
minute are very dangerous.

They can lead to errors.

The first balcony on that side.

It's very easy to climb
onto. Even I could do it.

If you like, I can turn off the
lights. I know where the fuses are.

You expect me to trust you?

Give me the gun, I'll shoot her myself.

You do the lights.

All right, Reynolds, Teller's daughter.

You wait until we see
a light in that window.

Five minutes after that,
you will throw the lights.

Mr. Tirole, taxi to the airport, sir.

Just waiting for my daughter.
She won't be a minute.

Hurry, darling, we'll be late.

I'll just get my case.

You should see him.
He's definitely all right.

It's on for midnight.

I won't be two minutes.

She's going crazy.

She might leave or something
if you don't talk to her.

What?

I don't know what she wants.

She says she'll do a deal
with you or something.

Otherwise, she'll phone the police tonight.

You've got to go and see her quickly.

All right, you wait here.

Come in, Tom. The door's open, darling.

Reynold.

Is everything all right, darling?

What is all this, Maria?

Did anything unusual happen this evening?

Anything out of the ordinary?

You wanted to talk to me.

Not particularly.

I think we've said everything we need
to say to each other for the moment.

Shouldn't you be going, Reynold?

You'll miss your plane.

You should be in a hurry.

Oh, come on, Maria. What do you want?

I've got a taxi waiting.

A taxi?

Yes, a taxi.

You didn't use the car.
You always use the car.

Why didn't you use the car?

For God's sake, Maria. Siska
told me you wanted to talk to me.

What about?

What are you talking about? I
haven't seen Siska since supper.

But Siska just told me that you...

Oh, my God.

Oh, God, this hotel.

Siska, no! It's too early!

What's too early?

I didn't know!

Shut up.

I told his daughter last minute
changes of plan could lead to errors.

I will not charge you for this
bullet which has killed your friend.

Anna!

I was going to have you killed.

I thought I was doing the right thing.

I promised Tom I thought
I was saving your life.

I really did want you as my stepfather.

I really did.

Tom.

Tom.

Sleep well, my love.

Sleep well, my love, sleep well, my love.

I can't sleep.

Oh, it's so sad what hate can do.

I didn't want to cause you such pain.

No, I'll never love you.

Sleep well, my love, sleep well, my love

This is my last goodbye to you

Sleep well, my love, sleep well, my love

You taught me things I never knew

Sleep well, my love, sleep well, my love

Fear of fear

And the end is near

No it's near

It's hard to die