Original subtitles

Commissioner Dreyfus.

Ah. Yes, my darling.

I was just about to call you. I'm on my way.

I've got the cheese and the beaujolais.

What?

My love. Kiss the children for me.

Huh?

Hold on.

Yes?

Your wife is on the other line.

Tell her I'm out of town.

Yes, my love. I'll be with you in 20 minutes.

Monsieur Dreyfus. Oh, monsieur.

A catastrophe. We've just had a report of a shooting

at the Chateau de la Pierre Blanche.

So?

- Monsieur Ballon. - What, Ballon the millionaire?

- Yes. - That is a catastrophe.

Oh, no. I mean, it's not so much the shooting

- that is a catastrophe. - No?

No. You see, when the report came in, there were few details,

just that someone had been shot, and the address.

I didn't, until a few moments ago, realize

that it was the home of the millionaire Ballon.

- So? - So I made a terrible mistake.

Who did you assign to the case?

- Clouseau. - Oh, my God.

Argh!

- Inspector Clouseau. - Good evening, sir.

- What is your name? - My name is Henri LaFarge.

Make a note of that.

- You are the butler? - I am the head butler.

The head butler.

Cross out "butler" and put down "head butler".

This is Monsieur Ballon.

Monsieur Ballon, it is a great honor.

Oh, excuse me.

I am Inspector Clouseau of the Sûreté.

I must apologize for my appearance. I had a slight accident.

Well, uh, would you like a bathrobe or something?

Oh, no, nothing at all. It's just a little dampness. It will soon go.

Monsieur Ballon, you reported a shooting?

- No, I didn't. Maurice did. - Maurice?

- Yes, he's guarding Maria. - Ah.

I was at the airport at the time the shooting occurred.

I've just arrived.

Of course, of course, of course. That will not be necessary.

I shall have this case cleared up in a few seconds.

Would you like to examine the body?

- I would be delighted. - This way, sir.

- You are Maurice? - Yes, monsieur.

Monsieur Ballon said you were guarding someone.

Yes, monsieur.

This pen has been fired recently.

- And you are? - Maria Gambrelli.

- I am Inspector Clouseau. - How do you do?

See what else you can find. What are you doing?

- I'm checking the gun, Inspector. - This is my pistol pen.

- I know it's your pen. - Get your own pistol pen, please.

This is my own personal one.

Don't look in here. Look outside.

- What did you say? - Nothing, monsieur.

All right, you can go.

Now then.

Um...

Please.

You found the body?

- Yes, monsieur. - Mm.

He's a friend of yours?

- Have you any idea who killed him? - I've no idea.

- She killed him. - What?

That's not true.

- She says it's not true. - She is lying.

- You watch your tongue. - I heard four shots, monsieur.

- You heard four shots. - Yes.

You did not see four...

I am sorry.

- You did not see these four shots. - No, monsieur.

No. Well, then, you could not possibly know who fired those shots.

The door was locked, monsieur, from the inside.

So, what does that prove?

When I broke it open, I found Miguel where you see him now

and Maria with a gun in her hand.

- With the gun in her hand? - Still smoking.

Did you have the gun in your hand?

- And was it still smoking? - I suppose so, but...

I don't know how it got there. I really don't.

- Ridiculous. - I will decide what is ridiculous.

- Monsieur, you surely don't believe... - I believe everything.

And I believe nothing.

I suspect everyone.

And I suspect no one.

I gather the facts, examine the clues...

and before you know it, the case is solved.

Oh, yes. There is much here that does not meet the eye. That is quite obvious.

- What was that you said? - Nothing, monsieur.

All right. You can go now.

Yes, monsieur.

But do not try to leave. Everyone in this household is under suspicion.

Yes, monsieur.

Now, supposing you tell me what happened.

He was having difficulty with the buttons.

- Buttons? - The buttons on my dress.

Well, you know that is very strange because

there are no buttons on this dress.

Well, that is because he was having difficulty with them.

So he just tore the dress off.

- He attacked you. - Oh, no.

I would have helped him but... but he couldn't wait.

The buttons are probably all over the room.

He was so impetuous. A passionate Spaniard, you know?

And he tore your dress off, eh?

Yes.

And then suddenly someone opened the door.

And Miguel leapt up and...

Well, that is the last I remember

until Maurice came in and found me with the gun.

Hmm. Yes.

There is, if you'll excuse me,

something here that I do not quite understand.

What don't you understand?

I don't understand...

when you say that you don't remember.

- I guess I was unconscious. - Unconscious?

- I have a bump. - A beump?

- Yes. - Where? Let me see.

Oh, yes.

I don't know how it happened but it is so painful.

That is beautiful perfume you are wearing.

- It's bath oil. - Ls it?

I really can't figure it out. Someone must have hit me.

Yes. You have received a mild concussion with that beump.

- You have cream on your nose. - What? Oh, that's nothing.

- It's from that thing over there. - You're all wet.

- What? Oh, yes. - Ls it raining?

No, it's just that stupid driver of mine

parked too close to the fountain.

You should get out of these clothes immediately.

You'll catch your death of pneumonia, you will.

Yes, yes, I probably will,

but it's all part of life's rich pageant, you know.

We police have to put up with a lot of things

in the course of our duties

that in private life one wouldn't normally tolerate.

Why don't we have a smoke?

Helps to calm the nerves

and enable us to think more clearly.

- It is lovely perfume you're wearing. - That's not perfume. That's bath oil.

Oh, is it? Well, it's very beautiful.

- Thank you. - I can still smell it.

- Now, where were we? - My bump.

Beump, that's right.

That you received when somebody hit you.

- Or, at least, we presume somebody hit you. - How else could it have happened?

Well, you see, in the police force,

first, we presume, after, we find out.

That is the way we work. Always work that way.

Because if we work the other way...

Goodness, it's a bit stuffy in here.

- Your coat! - Yes, it is my coat.

- But it's on fire! - What?

My coat is on fire!

My goodness, I'm burning!

- Clouseau? - Argh!

He fell out of the window!

Clouseau?

Are you all right?

Mm? Oh, yes. I'm perfectly all right, thank you.

- In that case, you may go home. - Go home?

- You are relieved. - Relieved?

I am taking charge. Good night, Clouseau.

Good night, sir.

- Argh! - I'm sorry, sir.

You idiot. You fool. It's a good job I was able to check my reflexes.

I might have killed you with a karate chop.

You...

you fool!

Just for that you are... you're off the case.

Back to town.

When can I have the report?

I'll give you the report first thing in the morning.

That'd be good.

- Excuse me. Monsieur Ballon? - Yes.

- I'm Commissioner Dreyfus. - Ah. Well, where's Inspector Clouseau?

I'm personally taking charge of this investigation.

Oh, I see.

I promise that you and Madame Ballon

will be inconvenienced as little as possible

and that the Ballon name will not suffer

the sensationalism of the press.

He was a strange fellow, but I rather liked him.

- Huh? - I mean Clouseau.

Oh. Yes, yes. He's a... he's an extraordinary man.

Argh!

- Argh!

Inspector Clouseau's residence.

One moment, please. Commissioner Dreyfus.

- Hello, Inspector Clouseau here. - Get down here immediately.

- You're back on the Gambrelli case. - The Gambrelli case?

Maria Gambrelli. The maid who killed the chauffeur.

Oh, Maria Gambrelli, the maid. Yes, yes.

Excellent. I'll be down there right away. Thank you.

Well, Kato, I am back on the case.

I tell you, Maria Gambrelli is beautiful. Innocent. Hah!

By the way, Kato, that was a very good workout today.

You're showing marked improvement.

Every day you're getting better!

Facts, Hercule, facts.

Nothing matters but the facts.

Without them, the science of criminal investigation

is nothing more than a guessing game.

You listen to me, Hercule, and you will learn something.

Now, then. The facts in this case are...

the body of the chauffeur was found in the bedroom of the second maid. Fact.

Cause of death - four bullets in the chest. Fact.

The bullets were fired at close range from a .25 calibre Beretta automatic. Fact.

Maria Gambrelli was discovered with the murder weapon in her hand. Fact.

The murder weapon was registered in the name of the deceased, Miguel Ostos,

and was kept, mark you, in the glove compartment of the Ballon Rolls-Royce.

Fact

Now, then. Members of the household staff have testified that Miguel Ostos beat...

Careful, you fool. You broken my pointing stick. I've got nothing to point with now.

...have testified that Miguel Ostos beat Maria Gambrelli frequently.

And, now, finally comes the sworn statement

of Monsieur and Madame Ballon,

as well as all the members of the staff,

each of them with perfect alibis.

Now then, Hercule, what is the inescapable conclusion?

- Maria Gambrelli killed the chauffeur. - What? You idiot.

- Impossible. She's protecting someone. - How do you know that?

- Instinct. - But the facts...

You are forgetting the most important fact.

- Motive. - He beat her.

- He was Spanish. - He tore her dress off.

Don't be ridiculous. Would you kill somebody who tore your dress off?

- No, I suppose not. - No, of course not.

No, no. There is no doubt in my mind whatsoever, Hercule.

Maria Gambrelli is most definitely protecting somebody.

Find that somebody, and you have found the murderer

and I shall find the murderer before the day is out.

Maria Gambrelli will tell me who he is. Oh, yes.

- What was that you said? - Uh, nothing.

I see. All right. Well, you can go, Hercule.

Argh!

I don't understand.

Why in the name of heaven did you reassign Clouseau to the Gambrelli case?

That is a good question, and it deserves an answer.

But what I'm about to tell you must remain in the strictest confidence.

This morning, at six o'clock, I received a phone call from a superior.

I was informed that certain extremely influential parties were interested

in having Clouseau back on the case.

- I had no choice but to comply. - Amazing.

If I were to divulge the identity of the caller,

you'd realize how amazing it really is.

But Why?

That's another good question, and for that I have no answer.

Ah. They're bringing in the Gambrelli woman.

Sit down, Miss Gambrelli.

Sit down, Miss Gambrelli.

Now, where were...

Good morning, monsieur.

- Oh. Good morning, Miss Gambrelli. - Good morning.

- You slept well? - No.

- Wonderful. - It is not easy to sleep in prison.

It isn't? No, no, no, of course it isn't. No, no, no.

We shall have to do something about that, won't we?

Uh...

Stupid box. Yes.

But, anyway, first, a few simple questions.

- Is it all right if I smoke? - Oh, yes, of course, yes.

- Have one of mine. - Thank you.

- Ah. - Well, have one of mine.

Mm? Oh, thank you.

That's very kind of you. Very, very kind of you.

- That's all right. - Allow me.

- Thank you. Other way around. - Hm? What? Oh.

It tastes very bad when you do that.

Well, now...

Are you comfortable?

They should have chairs like this in the prison.

Yes, yes. Most certainly they should.

As I recall, the furniture is deplorable. Extremely bad taste.

Terrible. One might as well sit on the floor.

Yes, yes, it's really high time that somebody did something about it, don't you think?

Sure.

As a matter of fact, I will do something about it this very moment.

Give me the prison superintendent immediately.

Yes, sir.

You know, sometimes it's necessary to cut through the red tape

and strike directly at the heart of the matter.

Prison is bad enough without uncomfortable furniture.

Yes?

Superintendent, this is Inspector Clouseau.

When are you going to do something

about that terrible furniture in your prison? Hmm?

Well, we are not savages. This is not the Middle Ages.

I mean, you are running a house of correction, not a torture chamber.

That made him think. Well, I suggest you take the matter under serious consideration.

I mean, if one is to cope with a modern criminal,

it is necessary to use modern methods.

I mean, you can't have a contemporary prison

without, uh, contemporary furniture.

Yes. Well, that's my opinion, anyway.

Oh. And the same to you, Superintendent.

Filthy swine.

You're not at all like a policeman.

Your dossier.

I always keep my important documents under lock and key

because one can never be too sure.

Now, here...

Oh.

Oh, uh...

Excuse me.

Stupid.

Oh.

Now, um...

Miss Gambrelli, your dossier contains some very, very interesting facts.

It seems that you have known this Miguel Ostos for quite some time.

Yes.

- And were you in love with him? - Yes.

You're in love with the man that raped you?

That what?

Testimony of Georges Duval, gardener. Referring to Ostos, you described him,

and I quote, as "that crazy Spaniard who raped me in my father's field".

He did not rape me.

- He did not force you? - Well, you see, I tripped over a root,

and I grabbed Miguel to keep me from falling, and somehow we both fell.

I cried a little bit afterwards but that wasn't because I was sorry it happened.

- It was something he said. - He insulted you.

Oh, no. He lit a cigarette and took a long puff, and...

Tell me, why do so many men smoke afterwards?

No wonder tobacco companies get rich.

Yes, I must admit I had never thought of it quite that way.

Hmm. Last night, it was to be our last night. It was all finished.

- You were leaving him? - Oh, no. He was leaving me.

Poor Miguel. He was really in one of his moods last night.

First he babbled in Spanish, and then he cried.

You know, he really broke down and cried.

- You don't say. - I do say.

And then when I tried to console him, make him feel better,

suddenly he was tearing off my clothes and cursing like a madman.

Hmm.

Very strange.

Very strange.

The thing I don't understand...

Ostos was leaving you

and yet by your own account

he was behaving like a jealous madman.

Well, you see, I thought if he was leaving me he'd suffer,

thinking that I was alone.

And... and so I told him there was someone else.

Mm-hmm.

It was a lie. I admit that.

But only out of kindness.

Ah!

- Oh, uh... - I'm sorry.

- It's nothing at all, really. Stupid tailor. - Beautiful suit.

Yes, I know, but don't worry. A few stitches and you'll never know.

Miguel? Ah!

Hercule?

Must I go back to prison?

Unfortunately, yes.

But... don't give up hope.

- What do you want? - You sent for me.

Of course I sent for you!

Goodbye.

Goodbye, my dar... uh, Miss Gambrelli.

Well, there's no doubt in my mind she is shielding someone.

- Do you think you can break her down? - Mm.

Given enough time, I could have her eating out of my hand.

Yes, anyway, we have no time.

I must catch this man before he leaves the country.

- But if you don't know who he is... - She will lead me to him.

- Release her. - Release her?

Of course. How can she lead me to him

if she's still in prison, you idiot?

- But Commissioner Dreyfus... - I will assume complete responsibility.

Release her immediately. I will apprehend this culprit within 24 hours.

Argh!

Get me out of here. Quick, nurse, the screens.

Look, I've got Africa all over my hand now.

Nice balloons.

Do you have a licence to sell these balloons?

Licence?

- Yes? - Good morning, monsieur.

Good morning, Georges. Is there something I can do for you?

Well, yes. And perhaps there's something I can do for you.

What could you possibly do for me?

You remember the night of the murder?

- Is that a rhetorical question? - What?

Now, come along, Georges. What is it you want?

I saw you climbing down from Maria's room.

- You have sharp eyes. - Oh, yes.

And a big stomach. It's so hard to keep it filled, prices these days.

Are we going to discuss the national economy

or will you presently come to the point?

The point is 100,000 francs.

You know, for the groceries.

Then perhaps my eyes will grow small again.

Yes. Well, we'll certainly have to do something about your stomach.

Hey!

Nice dog. Nice dog.

Nice doggie.

Oh. Excuse me. I just happened to be passing and I...

Ah. Ah.

Ah.

Ah, my little...

You have been cutting flowers. You must have been cutting something.

- There's blood all over your cutting shears. - Ah. Ah.

That's very strange.

Ah!

Ah.

Facts, Hercule. Facts.

Behind them lies the whole fabric of deductive truth.

Now, Hercule, let us examine these facts.

One - she was found with the murder weapon in her hand.

Two - the murder weapon was fresh with blood.

Three - there were no fingerprints on the murder weapon other than hers,

and four - all the members of the Ballon household staff have perfect alibis.

Now then, Hercule, what do these facts add up to?

Maria Gambrelli killed Georges the gardener.

You are an idiot.

Only a fresh-faced novice would come up with a conclusion like that.

- But the facts... - Listen.

Whoever killed Miguel killed Georges the gardener.

And he did it to cover up the first crime.

Now, what he is trying to do is lay the blame

at the foot of this... This poor servant girl.

Well, who do you suspect?

I suspect everyone.

- I suppose that is possible. - Possible?

What do you mean "possible"? I deal in certainties.

I have only to break her down, make her admit she's protecting somebody

and then force her to divulge his identity.

There can be no more cat and mouse.

No more subtle interrogation.

For her own sake, and for the sake of justice,

I will resort to any means, short of brute force,

to drag it out of her, Hercule.

True, she will suffer.

But in the end she will be free and we will have our killer.

- You released her again? - Yes, sir.

Well, shall we settle this thing now,

or do you intend making me late for the recital?

We can't just fire her. She has given us no cause.

Cause? We are up to our necks in dead bodies.

What are you waiting for? The last act of Hamlet?

If you're going to compare the Ballon household

with a Shakespearean tragedy,

I suggest that Macbeth would be more appropriate.

Oh, darling, my cue ball.

That was Madame Ballon.

Follow her. When you have discovered her destination, call me immediately.

Inspector Clouseau.

- Good evening, Monsieur Ballon. - Good evening, Inspector.

If you don't mind, there are one or two

questions I would like to ask.

- Of course. - Some points that need clearing up.

Certainly. Do you play billiards, by any chance?

Billiards. Oh, well, yes, I have played some billiards in my time.

I find that it makes for a more relaxed and friendly conversation. How about you?

- Yes. - Take a cue.

Ah. A cue. Yes.

Hmm.

That should do.

- That's very strange. - I think you'd be better off

with an ordinary cue.

- That's what we call a bridge. - Ah, the bridge cue, yes.

Yes, I much prefer the good, old-fashioned, plain cue, you know.

Yes, yes.

Oh, I'm most terribly sorry. I'm dreadfully sorry.

Oh, that's all right. I've broken a few in my time.

Try this one. This is my favorite cue.

You'll find that it's great for curved shots.

You, uh, had some questions, Inspector.

Yes.

I had rather hoped to have a talk with your wife.

- Well, she's out. You just missed her. - On the contrary.

She just missed me in the driveway going out. Ah!

Monsieur Ballon, did you not state...

that, uh... on the night of the murder...

you had, uh, just arrived from London on the 11 o'clock flight?

Yes. Why do you ask?

It was cancelled due to bad weather.

I arrived on an earlier flight.

I put it to you directly, Monsieur Ballon,

that it was you who murdered Miguel Ostos.

Don't be ridiculous.

Oh.

Uh... look, if you can just move...

That's it. These curved cues can be difficult.

Now pull.

Yes, I disliked Miguel intensely.

But I am not in the habit of killing people

merely because I dislike them. Oh, I beg your pardon.

As long as you know about the cancelled flight,

I may as well tell you the whole thing.

The night that Miguel was killed,

I arranged for him to meet the 11 o'clock plane.

I arrived on the nine o'clock.

Now, he would be on his way to the airport while I was on my way home.

My wife was at a dinner party.

This would give me a whole hour, at least, alone in the house.

For what?

For Maria.

What?

Does that surprise you?

Then I submit, Inspector Ballon, that you arrived home,

found Miguel with Maria Gambrelli,

and killed him in a rit of fealous jage.

I admit to the affair, but to kill for her?

- Would you kill for her? - Of course... uh, not.

- Well, it's still your shot. - Yes. Mm.

Ah. Mm.

Mm.

I'm dreadfully sorry, Monsieur Ballon.

I appear to have grazed your billiard table.

Telephone, monsieur, for Inspector Clouseau.

Ah, that would be for me.

Yes? This is Inspector Clouseau.

All right. If you stay there I will come over immediately.

Monsieur Ballon, I wonder if you could oblige.

I have to meet my assistant and I am without a car.

- Oh, well, I'll have Pierre drive you. - Excellent.

Well, I suppose it's the end of our game. Do you mind putting my cue away?

Have Pierre bring the car around.

Your car is ready, monsieur.

Look, I'm, uh, dreadfully sorry, Monsieur Ballon.

Oh, please don't concern yourself, Inspector.

Maurice will do it for you.

Let go of my back, you...

Thank you, monsieur.

Really, Monsieur Ballon, whoever invented that rack

should have his head examined.

Well...

- We will continue at another time. - A pleasure at any time.

I suggest you have your architect investigated as well.

Madame Ballon is in apartment 12, second floor.

You stay here. If I'm not out within ten minutes, send reinforcements. Alright?

Argh!

- Good morning. - Good morning.

I'm the game warden.

- Do you have a hunting licence? - Hunting licence?

He was shooting crows?

He was disguised as a hunter in order to watch the Ballon house.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Give me ten men like Clouseau and I could destroy the world.

- Where is he now? - I don't know.

After I got his release, he got a phone call.

He ran out of his office saying he had an important lead that would crack the case.

This case is already so full of cracks I guess one more won't make any difference, hmm?

- François? - Yes, Commissioner?

I've just cut off my thumb. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Now then. You say you followed Maria Gambrelli to this godforsaken place?

She took a taxi this far, then I followed her up the pathway

to the entrance to Camp Sunshine.

- Camp Sunshine? - Yes.

I would have called you,

but then I perceived Dudu the maid also enter the camp.

- Up the path, you say? - Yes, but Inspector...

Look, you return to the Ballon residence and look for more clues.

Inspector...

I will try to see what is afoot at this... Camp Sunshine.

- Inspector, I think I should... - Hurry up, man. There's not a second to lose.

Good afternoon.

Hmm.

I am Inspector Clouseau of the Sûreté.

Oh.

Tell me, have you anyone registered here by the name of Maria Gambrelli?

Gambrelli. Yes, I believe she checked in about an hour ago.

Yes. Gambrelli.

- 11:45. - Where can I find her?

Well, she could be most anywhere, but my guess would be the recreation area.

Thank you.

- Can I ask you something? - Yes?

Have you been... swimming?

Why, yes. How did you know?

It is my business to know.

Ah, ah, ah. And where do you think you're going?

I do not think, sir. I know where I am going.

I am going to the recreation area.

- Not like that, you're not. - What was that you said?

I said you're not going to the recreation area like that.

- I am Inspector Clouseau of the Sûreté. - How do you do? I'm Turk.

I am here on official business,

and I am looking for someone at the recreation area.

Not unless you take off your clothes.

- You, sir, are under arrest. - Arrest? What for?

For making lewd and suggestive remarks

to an official of the French government.

- Lewd and suggestive remarks? - Also for indecent exposure.

- Doesn't anyone wear any clothes around here? - No.

- What? - This is a nudist colony.

- A nudist colony? - Right.

And nobody gets in unless they take their clothes off.

What, all of them?

All of them. Right down to your mustache.

Argh!

- Are you the one who called the police? - I?

Someone called from this camp and reported a murder.

Murder?

- Tell the men to spread out and search the camp. - One of your men is already in the camp.

- One of my men? - Yes. Inspector Clouseau.

Hmm.

- Ah! - I'm so sorry, I can't understand.

Murder?

Oh!

Pssst!

- Beg your pardon? - Clouseau!

Over here.

Quick.

Listen, that's Dudu.

- Dudu? - She's dead.

Dead? Dudu?

Come out! Out.

Round up everyone.

And get me that idiot, that is if you can find him.

Straight away, sir.

If someone has been murdered here, please, let it be Clouseau, hmm?

What are we going to do?

We must do something. We can't leave here without our clothes.

I am getting cold. Just look at those goose pimples.

Clouseau!

- I know how you feel but... - I'm having a bad dream. It's a nightmare.

Believe me, it's nothing to what would have happened

if they'd caught us.

- What do we do now? - Well, you keep down,

and then they can only see the top half of me.

Perhaps they will think that I have just come from the beach,

from a swim, you know. And, uh...

- We can't just keep driving around? - No.

- Please. - No, no, that's right.

I will take us to my apartment and somehow I will try to get us inside.

Please, whatever happens, try to keep calm.

I can assure you she's not in the house.

I'm sorry, Monsieur Ballon, but it is necessary that I see for myself.

She has not been in the house all day?

All I can tell you is that she left before I did this morning

and she wasn't here when I got back an hour ago.

- Henri can verify that. - Henri?

- The head butler. - I'd like to talk to Henri.

Well, he could have verified it.

- Only a few more blocks now. - I feel like I'm losing my mind.

I think I'm going to start screaming and I won't be able to stop.

Please, please, try to hold on to yourself.

Control yourself, please.

You are off the Gambrelli case.

And you will report for duty to the Department of Records.

Department of Records?

- In Martinique. - What?

Tomorrow morning, or you can forget your pension.

But that is not fair. I was only doing my duty.

And I am right, you will see. Maria Gambrelli is not a murderer.

There is something personal in this.

Yes. Deeply personal.

I hate you. Every little bit of you. Now get out!

You want me to leave?

You are making a terrible mistake.

If Maria Gambrelli is not a murderer, and I say she is not,

you are sending an innocent girl to the guillotine!

Excuse me, François.

And another thing!

Martinique?

He's on his way.

What about those influential parties that wanted Clouseau on the case?

Whatever they do to me now, it is not half of what he has done already.

Ah.

Besides, I feel certain I know who is behind those influential requests.

- Ballon. - Ballon?

It's obvious he was having an affair with Maria Gambrelli.

Most likely.

At first I couldn't understand why anyone

would want a man like Clouseau to be in charge of a murder case,

especially a case of this importance.

- But why would Ballon? - He wouldn't.

Unless he was protecting someone.

Now if you were protecting someone, who would be the perfect man on the case?

A fool. A detective who is a complete and utter fool.

- Clouseau? - Of course.

If Maria Gambrelli is convicted, Ballon is up to his ears in a very nasty scandal

and Clouseau was his insurance policy against such a scandal.

Well, he has gone.

Ah.

I feel like a child again.

It's an interesting theory, but what if you are wrong?

I know it's an extremely remote possibility,

but what if you are wrong and Ballon is not protecting Maria Gambrelli?

What if she is innocent, as Clouseau claims?

- Ridiculous. - But a possibility.

What if Ballon is protecting someone else,

or what if Ballon himself is the guilty party?

- It's a sadistic thing to suggest. - But, if only for the sake of discussion,

what if you are wrong,

and Clouseau - a fool, a complete and utter fool...

- I'd be ruined. - It's something to consider.

- François? - Yes, Commissioner?

Would you please call for a doctor?

Are you ill?

I seem to have stabbed myself with a letter opener.

Argh!

Kato, you fool. Get off of me, will you? Get off me!

Kato, what are you doing? Not now.

Kato. Release me, you fool.

Inspector Clouseau's residence.

Give me that telephone, you idiot.

- Inspector Clouseau here. - This is the commissioner.

You are back on the Gambrelli case.

Well, Kato, I'm back on the case.

Now to set the trap, catch the killer,

and prove to the world that Maria Gambrelli is innocent of murder.

Hello? This is Inspector Clouseau. Connect me with my assistant immediately, will you?

I am ashamed of myself, Kato. I forgot the first rule of self-defense.

No matter what the circumstances, always anticipate the unexpected.

Had you been a real assassin, you might have killed me.

We're going to have to accelerate our training program.

You must learn to attack me whenever and wherever I least expect it

and you must give no quarter. Understand?

Hello, Hercule? This is Clouseau.

I am back on the case. Right, release Maria Gambrelli at once

and make a reservation for two, tonight, 8:00, at the Café Olé.

Right. Bye bye.

Kato, unpack my things and lay out my new blue suit.

I'm going to have a lovely hot soak in a nice warm bath,

and I will plan out my strategy.

He released her again.

And he's taking her out to dinner.

Every paper in Paris has the story,

including the Christian Science Monitor,

and he gave them the story.

You see, he claims she's protecting her lover

and the best way to force him into the open is to make him jealous.

Jealous!

That nincompoop. That megalomaniac.

He's setting the science of criminal investigation back a thousand years.

And I can't do anything about it.

- Why not? - Why not?

What if he's right?

- What if he is? - I'm finished. Washed up.

Sanity and reason become things of the past. Madness reigns.

- Just relax. - Relax?

With Clouseau loose in the world?

You go about offering irresponsible suggestions like that, doctor,

and you better find yourself a good analyst.

- Now, just lie down. - Just lie down.

- And relax. - Relax.

Don't you think I want to relax?

Don't you think I'd give my right arm for a good night's sleep?

I haven't closed my eyes in three days.

I've only eaten a chicken leg and some clear broth since Wednesday.

I'm cracking up. I'm coming apart at the seams.

Look at my eye. I used to have a perfectly good eye. Two eyes, I mean.

No, Doctor, there is no hope. There is no hope unless I can get rid of Clouseau.

I must get rid of Clouseau.

Ese gitano de Cordoba, o sea que eres unico, arsa, mira.

Pei do dna! Pei do dna!

Pei do dna! Pei do dna!

What's wrong?

I'm not gonna let you look at me going up the stairs, you naughty thing.

Come on, then.

No, I'm just unlocking the door. No.

You just split up your pants so you could lure me into this apartment of yours.

Well, this is my apartment.

I know this is your apartment.

- How about a little lure? - Nothing lure. You lure, you.

Oh, lu-lu-lu-lu-lure.

- Do you know? - What?

I know this is your apartment. But that won't help you in the least bit.

Why won't that help me in the least bit?

- Because... - Question...

- Question, answer, Mr. Police Inspector. - Jacques Clouseau is the name.

I've given up sex.

Oh.

Quel brutto momento.

I've given up sex.

- Promise me. - What, darling?

Afterwards, you will not smoke, hm?

I give you my word as an officer and a gentleman.

Also, a policeman.

Policeman.

- Jacques? - Yes, darling.

Carry me.

All right, my darling.

Jacques?

- Yes, my darling? - I swore I'd never...

- Ooh! - Oh.

Sorry, my darling.

Jacques, I swore I'd never, never do it again, you know.

- Yes, darling. - And I resolve to be so strong.

- Yes, darling. - You know, we all pay for our sins, don't we?

Could you open the door, my darling? Anything... worth waiting for is worth...

Oh.

Oh, darling.

My darling. My dear, sweet darling.

My sweet darling, let's have the...

- Jacques? - What, darling?

It may be somebody important, Jacques.

Oh, darling, listen. What could be more important than this?

Jacques, look what you are doing. Look at my sleeve.

- It's all right, darling. It looks better that way. - Jacques, go to the door.

Darling, go to the door.

- Probably somebody important. - Don't go away.

- Don't go away. What? - Darling, hurry.

Hurry, yes.

- Darling! - Coming, my lovely little darling.

That's very strange.

Darling.

- Oh, my darling. - Come here.

Oh! Oh, this is too much for a simple policeman.

Oh, my darling.

Wait, I... Wait, wait, wait.

Wait, my darling. Wait.

You beautiful, wonderful...

- You're like a... Like a little pin. - Like a pin?

- Argh! - No!

- No! - Kato! Kato, you fool!

Kato!

Kato!

Jacques!

Don't worry, my darling. It's only Kato. It's only Kato.

This poor fool.

Jacques! Oh, Jacques!

- I killed him. - Don't worry, you didn't.

He's all right, my darling. It's nothing to worry. Nothing can happen to us now.

"Trail of death follows Inspector Clouseau."

Four people - a doorman, two customers, and a Cossack.

Most regrettable.

Regrettable? Including the Ballon murders this brings the grand total to eight!

Well, that just goes to prove what I have said all along.

What you've said all along, Clouseau, qualifies you as the greatest prophet

since General Custer said he was going to surround all those Indians!

Maria Gambrelli did not kill those four people.

- Which four people? - The last four people.

Someone else killed those four people. I was with her all the time.

And whoever he is, he's the same man who killed the first four people.

- A doorman? A Cossack? - Innocent bystanders.

The murderer was after me. Fortunately he missed.

"Fortunately" is not the word.

Nevertheless, it proves that my theory is correct.

You see, because of some misguided loyalty,

Maria Gambrelli will not divulge the name of her former love

and that man is so jealous he will kill rather than lose her.

Are you saying that this man, the man Maria Gambrelli is protecting,

her former lover, killed eight people because he was jealous?

Insanely jealous.

So jealous he made it look like Maria Gambrelli was the murderer?

He's a madman, a psychotic.

- What about the maid? - The maid?

Was he jealous of her, too? He strangled her.

It's possible that his intended victim was a man and he made a mistake.

- A mistake? In a nudist camp? - Nobody's perfect.

- Idiot! Nincompoop! - Sir. Commissioner.

Lunatic!

I will have your murderer for you by tonight.

What?

- I have a plan. - What sort of plan?

A plan that cannot possibly fail.

Right. Now, remember, at eight o'clock sharp,

you pull the master switch just as I am about to name the murderer.

- Leave the lights off for five seconds. - Yes. Not a second longer.

Just long enough for the murderer to leave the room. Understand? You quite clear?

Right, now we synchronize watches.

In seven seconds it will be precisely...

2:43.

- 2:43? - Your watch must have stopped. I've 7:46.

Yes. 7:46, yes.

- No, no, no. Now it's nearly 7:47. - Yes, all right. 7:47.

- Are we synchronizing on 7:47? - That is what you said.

No, I said it was nearly. I've now, ooh... ten seconds to 7:47.

- I've got ten seconds after 7:47. - You'll have to put your watch back.

- Yes, all right, all right. - Five seconds.

- Yes. Four. - Four.

Three.

Two. One.

Now.

That's strange. The second hand is not moving.

- It's ticking. - It's moving now.

What? Yes. Yes, it is. Yes. I know that. I can see that is moving now.

- And now I've 7:47 and 23 seconds. - All right.

- Let's synchronize on 7:47 and a half. - Very good.

Five. Four.

Three.

Two. One.

- Now. - My watch has stopped.

Your watch has stopped?

A remarkable coincidence. It's stopped completely.

Hmm.

- Look here. Take my watch. - But, what about you?

- Don't worry. I'll keep talking till the lights go out. - But we still won't be synchronized.

Yes, it'll be all right. Don't worry. I'll find a way out of it.

Very kind of you. There's no need for you to stand. Please sit down.

Now then. I expect you're wondering why I've asked you all here.

Well, whatever the reason, it's a damn nuisance.

We usually have dinner at nine o'clock and you've brought everything to a standstill.

You will not be inconvenienced for long, Monsieur Ballon.

Your clock has stopped, Monsieur Ballon.

Yes, but if you want to know the time, it's exactly 7:50.

You are slow, darling. It's 7:52.

No, my love. This watch has not lost a second since the day you gave it to me.

I didn't give it to you.

I have 7:55, monsieur.

- That is what I have. - You are both fast.

No, my watch is right. I'll prove it to you.

Would you tell me the right time, please?

7:54. Thank you.

Yes? It's for you, Inspector.

Ah, it's for me.

- Yes? - What time is it?

What?

- Your watch has stopped. - Where are you?

In the basement. I had the operator call this number.

What do I do? I can't pull the switch at eight o'clock

if I don't know what time it is.

- It's, uh, 7:54. - 55 now.

55 now, yes.

I just realized something. I still won't know when it's eight o'clock.

- Count. - What?

Count.

Oh, count. You mean seconds?

Yes, that is exactly what I mean, and don't dare call me here again.

Now then.

Now then. I will tell you... why I have called you all here tonight.

One of you... is a murderer.

36... 37...

38... 39.

Before I name the killer...

I will explain to you the facts that led me to discover his...

or her... identity.

Now then. The night the chauffeur was...

The night the chauffeur was killed. What was the chauffeur's name?

- Migwell, yes. - No, Miguel.

- Migwell. - Miguel.

- Well, this Italian... - Well, he was a Spaniard.

Well, this Spaniard, um, Mingwell, he was furious with Maria Gambrelli.

He tore her dress off. He protested violently.

Argh! Ooh, my foot!

I'm terribly sorry. I beg your pardon. I did not notice her. Excuse me.

He tore her dress off, and at that precise moment, the door opened...

and somebody... somebody shot him.

Now Maria could not see who the killer was because she was unconscious.

And the reason she was unconscious because she had received a beump upon the head.

A what?

A beump.

Now, there is only one way she could have received a beump like that.

She was hit upon the head by an object,

and the object was the knob on the closet door.

Somebody was hiding in that closet,

and when they opened the door she received a beump upon the head.

- Oh, for heaven's sake, Inspector, come to the point. - Don't tangle words with...

- Ow! You clumsy idiot! - Sorry. I'm terribly sorry.

Ow!

Oh!

Oh, those feathers.

Oh, I am coming, Maria, my darling. My darling, I...

Ooh.

Careful, monsieur, with me. Do not tangle with me.

I'm a trained expert in karate. My hands are lethal weapons.

Hmm.

Now then.

There is something that I am very interested to know. These rumours...

- What happened? What? - You fell off the sofa, you stupid...

I know I fell off the sofa, madame. There is no need to tell me.

Everything I do is carefully planned, madame.

I know that.

Now, then.

Uh...

What was I saying? uh...

Listen, you, you daydreaming fool. What are you doing there? I mean...

Can't you pay attention when I'm talking? Don't you know what I was saying?

You're not listening to me.

With the greatest respect, monsieur, I heard every word that you said.

Would you be kind enough to tell me what it was that I said?

- You were talking about the closet, monsieur. - Well, yes?

You were saying that when the closet door was opened

Maria received a bump on the head

and from that that you inferred that someone had been hiding...

She received a beump on... And listen, monsieur.

Next time I may test you without warning, so pay attention at all times.

- Yes, monsieur. - Now then.

Whoever was in that closet opened the door and knocked Maria unconscious.

And whoever the man was that was in that closet had a reason to be in that closet.

- How do you know it was a man? - Because we found his fingerprints, Monsieur Ballon.

And... they were your fingerprints.

Well, why not? It's my house. I've often been in that closet.

- For what reason? - Last time it was moths.

Meuths?

- Moths. - Yes, meuths.

Maria was complaining of meuths.

Meuths?

Is that right, Maria, that you were complaining about these meuths?

Yes, I did complain about moths.

Oh, you mean meuths. Yes, the flying meuths, you mean.

Yes, of course, of course, of course.

No, but what I do not understand is that in a household of this size,

the question of meuths should be brought to the attention of Monsieur Ballon,

not one of the servants or the local meuth exterminator.

However, for the moment, we will pass over that,

and we will continue to concentrate on another type of local exterminator.

212, 213, 214...

Maria Gambrelli, even though she now realizes it was a mistake,

is not a sort of a woman to have an affair with a man and then expose him.

And we cannot condemn her, because she does not believe this man was a killer.

But this man was not only a killer.

He was an unprincipled villain

who would rather see Maria Gambrelli go to the guillotine than lose her to another man.

He was hiding in the closet when she came into the room with the Spaniard.

He opened the door, shot the Spaniard, and put the gun in Maria's hand.

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

- Benjamin. Shut up. - I think that...

- You have something to say, Monsieur Ballon? - He has nothing to say.

No, but she has. Why don't you ask her?

How dare you.

- She was having an affair with my husband. - Liar!

You are a fine one to talk. Your husband was having an affair with my wife.

- Liar! - Thank you, Pierre.

- And what about you? What about you and Simone? - Oh, no!

- And what about you and Georges? - Liar!

- You killed him! - What?

- I saw you go to the greenhouse just before Maria. - He's crazy. Why should I kill Georges?

- Because you were having an affair with him. - I should kill him for that?

You killed him because you knew he was carrying on with Madame.

- I saw you kill Dudu. - Liar!

- I saw you. - It's insane. Why should I kill Dudu?

Because you discovered... you discovered that she was having an affair with Pierre.

- That's not true. - She told me.

Ah, yes, yes, yes, of course she told you,

because you and Dudu were blackmailing the Madame.

- You liar! - She told me! She saw Madame kill Miguel.

- Shut up! - That's not possible.

- What was that? - What?

Georges told me he saw Monsieur Ballon climbing out of Maria's window right after the shooting.

Well, I didn't kill him.

- I was the one in the closet. - Oh ho!

My wife expected to find me with Maria and shot Miguel by accident.

- I put the gun in Maria's hand to protect my wife. - I arrest you for putting the gun in Maria's hand.

- Oh, you keep out of this. - You self-righteous hypocrite. You...

- What about Henri? - Well, what about Henri?

- You killed him. - Why should I kill him?

- I arrest you. - I saw you put the... shut up!

I saw you put the gun, drag his body into Maria's room.

- It was you. - Yes, it was.

- Why should I kill Henri? - It's alright, darling.

298, 299.

Hercule, turn on the lights.

Let me in, Benjamin. Ow!

No!

No! Stop! Come back, you fools!

Come back!

Clouseau!

- Stop them. Stop them! - What?

- The bomb! - The what?

The bomb?

It was meant for you.

What do you mean it was meant for me, Commissioner?

The doorman, the two customers and the Cossack,

and now, six more innocent people.

They were all murderers, except Maurice who was a blackmailer, Commissioner.

- Compared with you they were all saints. - Commissioner, what are you doing?

- I hate you, Clouseau. - Commissioner, please.

I hate you.

Commissioner, what are you doing to me? Let go of me.

Let... Commissioner, let go of my leg.

Hercule! Get him off me.

- Commissioner. Commissioner. - Commissioner. Commissioner.

Argh, Commissioner!

Jacques.

Jacques? Are you all right?

It's all over now, darling.

You're free.

Argh!

Whoa!