All language subtitles for Quelqu.un.derriere.la.porte.AKA.Someone.Behind.the.Door.1971.DVD.x264.AC3.1.0-dps

Gotta see a doctor.

Is it an emergency?

I don't know. It's for him.

If it isn't an emergency,
you'll have to wait.

Sit down.

Can I have some of that?

Of course, Dr. Jeffries.

Has Bob seen them?

He's with number five.

Found him on the beach
near East Cliff Road.

Just standing there, he was.
Dazed. Like he is now.

I nearly run him over.

Lucky thing I was driving slow
because of the fog.

Will you come with me, please?

Yeah, I nearly hit him.

When I asked him
what the hell he was doing there,

well, he began vomiting
all over the street.

I thought the best thing
was to bring him here.

Thank you. You did right.

Come in here, please.

Take off your sweater and coat.

Have you been drinking?

What were you doing
on East Cliff Beach?

East Cliff Beach.
No, I wasn't drinking.

Shirt too, please.

I was lost. And… it was foggy.

Do you live here in Folkestone?

I was walking on the pier…

Did you come here by boat?

Yes. I did. I did.

Didn't I?

I don't know.
Where's your luggage?

Do you have a passport?
Any identification?

Why don't you look?

There's nothing.

What's your name?

Sit here, please.

I don't remember my name.

How did you do that?

On the beach, there was a woman.

Yes, I remember her…
her dress, it was torn.

I think there was an accident.

And she… she fell.

And I tried to help her.

Go on.

Who was she?

It was… It was very dark.
I couldn't see it…

No, wait. There was a light.
It was coming from the pier.

I saw this light--
I was running to the light.

Then that man came.

Did you tell him about the woman?

Did I? Yes, I… I must have.

No, I don't think I did.

Why can't I remember my name?

Do you need any help?

A drunk.

Are you signing him in?

No. He wants to go to London.

I'll drive him to the station.
It's on my way.

Right.

You ready?

- Yes.
- Let's go.

- Good night.
- Good night, Doctor.

- See you tomorrow.
- Monday.

I forgot. Excuse me.

- No phone calls, please.
- Promise.

- Is this yours?
- Yeah.

The day is breaking.

Why didn't I stay at the hospital?

I'm taking you to my home.
You know what hospitals are like.

They'll just put you in a ward
and forget about you.

You need more than that.
- Why?

I want to keep you
under observation for a while.

Do you…

What?

Do you do this often?

Occasionally. It's my specialty.

What is?

Memory. Memory failure.

It's fascinating.
It's like electronics.

What do you think I got?

We'll see.

Look…

East Cliff Beach.

Why do you bring me out here?

I didn't. It's on the way.

You recognize this place?

What place?

The place where you saw
this woman. Was it here?

I'm not sure.

Wait here. I'll be right back.

I didn't see anything.

How long am I going to stay here?

Well, that depends.

It's considerate of you.

Not at all. It's my job.

What was in that shot you gave me?

Are you feeling sleepy?

- Yeah.
- Good.

Are you sure I'm not going
to be in your way?

Not at all.
There's plenty of room here.

What are you gonna do with me?

Well, how about a drink to begin
with? Or some orange juice?

- Okay.
- Okay. Make yourself at home.

Where are you going?

Not running out on me, are you?

Well, go on.

I was feeling better. So I…

You won't get very far.
Well, it's up to you.

You want me to lend
you a few quid?

Why don't you just relax for a
few minutes and think it over?

What am I going to do?

Are you…

Am I what?

- Married?
- No.

You live here alone?

Yes.

Don't worry.

I'm not Dr. Frankenstein, trying
to lure you into my laboratory.

Just… just try to relax.

I'm… what do you call it?
Amnesiac, is that it?

Looks that way. Although I dislike
putting labels on my patients.

What causes it?

Well, many different things.
A fall perhaps.

I think I did come by boat.

I seem to remember…

the sea… disembarking passengers…

Anything else?

Anything else.

Darkness… a blur.

You think you can do anything for me?
- I'm certain I can.

- It's like I'm asleep, you know?
- I know.

Now the only thing is
to wake you up again.

Then you go right ahead.

If you think that
you arrived by boat,

let's see if we can find out
where you might have come from.

Maybe I came by ghost ship.

I don't believe in ghosts.

Hello, Port Authority?

Can you tell me what ships
docked this morning, please?

Between midnight and 3:00 or 4:00.

I beg your pardon? A ferryboat.

Yes. Coming from where?

I see. Thank you very much.

The Cornwall from Dieppe.

Does that mean anything to you?
Dieppe? France?

You don't think I'm French?

Well, even though you have
an American accent,

you could have been
living anywhere.

And you could have been traveling
to Paris maybe, on a business trip.

Not without a passport, though,
or money or luggage.

By the way, did you notice?

You're married.

What?

You're married.

Yes. I'm married.

Or divorced. Or separated.
Or a widower.

There are so many different
combinations between a man and a woman.

Anyway, that's the way
we'll do it, piece by piece.

My wife must be worried about me.

What?

My wife must be wondering
what the hell happened to me.

What did you say?

Only that we'll have to
reconstruct you, bit by bit.

Your ring, your clothes, perhaps.

We'll talk about that later.
I want you to sleep now.

Come on.

This is the guest room.

I think you'll be
comfortable here.

I know the first
thing I'm going to do.

This is really very nice of
you, Doctor…

Laurence. Laurence Jeffries.

Even though I'm tired and half asleep,
I'm beginning to feel like a new man

and I thought maybe
I'd thank you again.

You forgot your raincoat.

I'm forgetting everything.

Listen, I wonder
how you got through customs.

- Customs…
- Yes.

Assuming that you did arrive
from France on that ferryboat,

you'd have to have had
a passport and identification.

Yes, I would, wouldn't I?

You sure there's nothing in
your pockets? Look again.

- Nothing.
- And the raincoat?

No, nothing.

Well, then you must have lost
your passport after you arrived.

Yes, that must be it.

Well, we'll see.
I want you to sleep now.

I don't think I'm
gonna be able to sleep.

Yes, you will. I put two
tranquilizers in your orange juice.

Now, what the hell did you do
a thing like that for?

- You're gonna have to trust me.
- Trust you?

I do trust you, Doctor.

Wait a minute. Come here.

As long as you're here, would you mind
giving me a sample of your handwriting?

- My handwriting?
- Yes. Just jot something down.

Anything at all.

Quite a lot can be learned
from a patient's autography.

Okay.

- What am I going to write?
- Anything.

"Arrived in Folkestone tonight."

Okay.

Arrived…

- That doesn't look so good.
- No, no. It looks fine.

Okay, go to sleep.

Okay.

November 17th. Memory failure.

Patient brought in by a fisherman.

Notes for paragraph 133.

Symptoms of total
amnesia, cause unknown.

Schizophrenic tendencies.

Good morning.

Are you just getting back?

There was an accident
over by the yacht club.

Surgery.

And then I had to take care
of an alcoholic.

Had to drive him to the station.

What about sleep
that knits the sleeve of care?

I know what you're thinking,

that I just crawled out of bed
with some ravishing young nurse.

I didn't say a thing.

I can hear you think.

Oh, I'm thinking about husbands

that aren't spending
all their days and nights

mending broken skulls
and lunatic brains.

That's my job.

With you, it's not a job.
It's an obsession.

It's too bad the Winston people
can't see that scene.

It would make a nice commercial.

You're not gonna go on about my smoking
in the morning again, I hope. Spare me.

Just… trying to be nice.

Open the shade instead.

- London again?
- Of course, London. I told you.

You're always going to London.

I know. You detest my brother.

Well, let's not even go into it.

I don't detest him.
I like and respect Andrew.

I only wish he lived in Folkestone, so
you and I could see more of each other.

Swinging Folkestone, right?

What is it?

Nothing. It's you.

Good morning, Doctor.

- Good morning, Lucy.
- You're up early.

I'm up late.
I just got back from work.

Why don't you move to the hospital
and get it over with?

You'll be there permanently as
a patient if you keep this up.

Good morning, Lucy.

Good morning, ma'am.

- Don't forget my taxi at 8:15.
- No, ma'am.

And don't leave it to the
last minute this time.

My train goes at 9:11.

No, ma'am.

Did you find my umbrella yet?

No, I haven't.
And I've looked everywhere.

That makes the fourth umbrella
I've lost this year.

You should read this story.

A man in Dover shot his wife

because she was seeing
too much of his dentist.

God. Imagine.

The space age, and people are
still killing each other for that.

What's the space age
got to do with it?

Can't you picture an
astronaut on the moon

cutting his copilot's oxygen line

because he suspects the guy
of sleeping with his wife?

You don't think men
will ever change then?

No. Neither will women.

How nice.

He was a plumber.

Who?

It's always those Lower Depths
creatures who do that sort of thing.

At least they're creatures with
the courage of their convictions.

Do you think it's courage?

In any event,
they liberate themselves.

It's the intelligent
ones who suffer.

How do you know?

I've never seen the faintest
symptom of jealousy in you.

Well, maybe I've actually
been dying of it all these years.

Well, what do you think
the civilized man would do?

He'd find an intelligent way
of resolving the problem.

That would satisfy him
more than an actual killing,

at the same time, making sure
that he doesn't get caught.

Thank you.

- Oh, balls.
- What?

I've broken a nail.

Larry, I have to get dressed.

- Do you really?
- What?

Today's my day off. Tomorrow too.

Couldn't you postpone London
until next week?

It's too late now, Larry.

Oh, darling,
please don't be difficult.

You're hurting me.

No.

Did you look in there
for my umbrella?

No, I didn't.

Okay, I'll look.

Darling…

Your umbrella may be in the car.

That's where I left it.

I'll look.

Goodbye, Larry.

You want me to drive
you to the station?

Don't do anything
drastic on my account.

Anyway, the taxi's here.
Any message for my brother?

Just… give him my love.

And you too.
- Me too, what?

All my love.

Thank you, dear.

Here it is.
Have a nice trip, ma'am.

Thank you, Lucy.

To the Hoverport in Dover, please.

What? Your maid said
you was to go to the station.

Then you were misinformed.

Aren't you going to sleep at
all, Doctor?

How's it going between
you and Robert?

Is it… John?

Edgar.

Edgar.

I'm confusing him
with the milkman.

He's not a milkman. He's a sailor.

Why does that make you sad?

Because he's leaving Monday.

Well, aren't you going
to say goodbye to him?

Goodbye?

Don't you know that it's bad luck

to let a sailor weigh anchor
without bidding him bon voyage?

Come on, get your things.
I'll drive you to the station.

But I…

Wouldn't you rather
spend four days with him

than four days with me?

You mean, four days off?

Just long enough to keep you
from boring each other.

Hovercraft flight to
Boulogne, France,

closing now at exit B.

Just a second. I forgot something.

Are you going to marry him?

Well, that's for him to decide.

You and he, that's
forever, I suppose?

Well, for me at least, yes.

Then I insist on being
the godfather of Albert Junior.

Edgar.

You're very funny, you know.

It's nice to make people laugh.

Doctor?

How do you feel?

I feel great.

You've shaved.

Yeah, I had a bath too.

- I hear you found the record player.
- Yes.

It's turning into a beautiful day.
Who could ask for anything more?

What time is it?

- Quarter after two. Are you hungry?
- Yeah. I'm starved.

Well, let's have some lunch.

You always do your own cooking?

Or do you have somebody
come in sometimes?

Once a week, a woman comes in
and cleans the place up

and breaks a few things.

Usually,
I take my meals in a restaurant.

One lump or two?

Well, take one then. If you
want more, just help yourself.

I really don't know.

Well, one then.

Listen. Don't be discouraged.

I've got reason to be discouraged.

Not really. Because I think
I have some good news for you.

I went back to the port again.

You found something?

A suitcase near East Cliff Beach.

Is it mine?

Nine chances out of ten it is.

Why don't we have a look at it?

It's a good suitcase.

Ten guineas at least.

You think that's really mine?

Well, there's only one way
to find out. Try this on.

It's nice material.
You have good taste.

And it… really seems to fit.

I think it is mine.

Just yesterday… or today?

I was wondering, who am I?

I could be anybody.

A street cleaner, a tramp.

But this proves I'm…

It proves that you know
how to buy clothes,

and that you can afford the best.

And, look… Paris.

Paris.

Vincent's, Saville Row.

Well,
you may have come from France,

but you don't live there.

I live in London, right?

Probably. Better check
the rest of the stuff.

Here's a letter.

Can I see?

What the hell?

May I?

She's lovely.

Do you think this is my wife?

Could be.

What would I be doing with a
picture like this in my suitcase?

Well, maybe you're a photographer.

Paris again.

Paris, the 12th of November.

"My love, I cannot wait any--"

Just a minute now.
That sounds like a love letter.

It certainly does.

"I cannot wait any longer.
I want to be…"

I don't think that you should read
this, because it's from my wife.

No. It's signed "Paul."

You see…

If I'm married and
that's my suitcase…

this letter must be from me.

- I'm Paul.
- No.

- How the hell do you know?
- Wait a second.

Just compare these
two handwritings.

They're entirely different.

Yeah. They're different.

What's it doing in my suitcase?

Well,
maybe the woman gave it to you.

Or you stole it. Shall I read it?

"My love…"

I'm afraid it's very personal.

"I cannot wait any longer.

I want to be near you,
next to you, your…

your naked shoulder touching mine.

I want your touch, your lips,"
etcetera, etcetera.

"I made a reservation for us
in the same hotel,

the Bonaparte, Rue Jacob.
Our hotel.

The same room. Remember?

This time we will
stay together forever.

I'd rather see you dead
than go back to him."

"Him"?

"Waiting for you. Longing for you.

Loving you. Paul."

- Him.
- I know what you're thinking.

That "him" could be you.

Yeah, and he's Paul.

There you are, you see?

I'm not a street cleaner, a tramp.

I'm a son of a bitching fool, and
they're making a fool out of me.

Unless this… this
stuff isn't mine.

It isn't mine. Isn't mine!

Just because this jacket fits,

it doesn't mean it belongs to me.

Just a minute. Wait a second.

There is one way to find out.
Try these on.

We have to be certain.
Try these on.

Do as I say.

November 18th.

Observations of
November 17th continued.

Results still in a negative stage.

Various attempts to stimulate
the subject's memory have failed.

Renewed indications of schizophrenia
after graphological tests.

They fit.

Yes. I think they're mine too.

I found this in the pocket.

Let me see.

This looks like your handwriting.

Is it the same?

It's the same.

I must have left a window open.

I think there's a storm coming up.

I think I know what happened.

That bastard!
That… that stinking bastard.

Take it easy.
Who are you talking about?

Him.

"Waiting for you.
Longing for you. Loving you."

Do you want a drink?

My wife is dead.

Did I tell you about the woman?

On the beach?

Yes, on the beach.
I thought it was an accident.

She was bleeding.

Yes.

It was my wife.

She was murdered. He killed her.

You mean, Paul?

Yes. Paul.

Go on. Tell me about it.

It's here,
and, you see, I wrote it all down.

I wrote it right here.
Frances left me, you see.

Frances?
Your… your wife's name is Frances?

Her name was Frances, yes.

I think it was…

November 13th,
I followed her to Paris.

It's in here, you see? Here.

It says November 14th,
I waited outside the hotel.

"Saw Frances and Paul.

They walked in the Luxembourg
Gardens. I followed them.

Tuesday the 16th.
Managed to see Frances alone.

She is unhappy and frightened.
She told me Paul terrifies her."

- Yeah… - "She is coming
home with me tomorrow."

Tomorrow, that was yesterday.

I can well understand
why she's afraid.

- Why?
- Because of this.

"I'd rather see you dead
than go back to him."

Yeah.

Was he on the boat too?

- I don't know.
- Did you see him? Did you talk to him?

I don't know.

Well, you felt threatened
too, didn't you?

- Me?
- Yeah.

You were just as afraid
of him as she was.

I was?

Because of this.

They're from the gun that's in
the pocket of your raincoat.

Why didn't you tell me about that?

Answer me, please.
- Well, I…

You told me your
pockets were empty.

- Yes. I don't know.
- Why?

You put yourself in my place.

You know, I was…

I don't know anybody
and nobody knows me,

and if I showed you the gun, you
would turn me over to the police.

Isn't that right?

And then you wouldn't have
anything to do with me.

I understand. You felt
threatened and you were armed.

Yes.

By the way, there's…

there's one missing.

- What?
- Yeah. One of the bullets.

There should be six.
There's only five.

One… two… three…

four… five.

It's only five.

Yeah.

Maybe the other one's in the gun.

It isn't in here. Look.

Then it's been fired.

I don't know.

Imagine Paul was on that boat.

He disembarked when
you and your wife did.

He followed you. And in the
fog, he attacked both of you.

- You took a shot at him.
- Did I?

You missed him, obviously.
There was a struggle.

That would account
for those scratches on your chest.

Then-- Well, then he overpowered
you, you and your wife.

Then what did I do?

You blacked out.

Let's clear up this mess.

Poor Frances…

She's out there somewhere.

They probably found her by now.

We have to notify the police.

You don't know the police.

You might end up
being charged with the murder.

That would be a perfect
revenge for Paul.

In fact, Paul who?
You don't even know his last name.

He can be traced.

You know that hotel in Paris.

I can trace him.

I'm going to find him.

I'm going to find him
if it's the last thing I do.

Who is it?

It's all right.
It's one of my patients probably.

Here.

Take this and go to your room.

It's okay.

Thanks for coming, Andrew.
How was your trip?

What's this all about, Larry? You were
absolutely incoherent on the phone.

Not so loud.
I've got a patient in there.

Tell me, Andrew,
what time did you leave London?

2:23.

- Did you see Frances before you left?
- Frances? No. Is she in London?

She's supposed to be visiting you.

Actually, she's in Paris.

In Paris?

Your sister has run out on
me, Andrew.

Frances? Nonsense!

- Frances has been having an affair.
- Rubbish. She's not that kind.

I found this in her
purse this morning.

"My love.
I cannot wait any longer.

I want to be near
you, next to you,

your naked shoulder
touching mine," etcetera.

Well, I'm flabbergasted.
Who's Paul?

Paul Damien. He's a journalist.

Until recently,
he was the English correspondent

for l'Agence France-Presse.

That's where they used to meet,
in London, using you as an alibi.

Nice, eh?

Now he's been transferred back
to Paris and she's gone with him.

Have you discussed
this with Frances?

- No.
- Why not?

I don't know.
Just the dignity of the thing.

Anyway, I wanted to find out
how far she'd go.

Straight to a hotel on the Left
Bank. That's how far she went.

What do you intend to do, Larry?

Divorce.

I want to get it over with.
I can't take anymore.

Well, I don't see what
it has to do with me, old boy.

I want to settle this thing
as graciously as possible.

That's why I need your help.

I want you to arrange
a meeting between us.

- With… with Paul Damien?
- Yes.

You really want to
meet this creature?

Creature.
You sound just like Frances.

Yes, I do.

I've never met him
and I'm curious to.

Wouldn't you be if
you were in my place?

Where do you want to meet him?

- Here.
- Here?

That's the least he can do.

I want you to go to Paris
or telephone him.

I don't care which.
Just make sure he comes here.

He's staying at the Hotel
Bonaparte, 43 Rue Jacob.

What if he refuses?

Well, you wouldn't want
your sister involved in anything…

troublesome, would you?

Okay. Hotel Bonaparte.

I'll wait until I hear from him.
I won't leave the house.

And, Andrew,
I want him to come alone.

Insist on that.

Frances must be kept
out of it altogether.

I agree, Larry.

But it is a bloody awkward
kind of mission.

I want you to handle it
so that it won't be awkward.

Goodbye.

Hey, what are you doing?

- I'm leaving.
- Really?

- May I ask where you're going?
- I'm going to Paris. I found out his name.

His name is Paul Damien.

- How do you know that?
- I know. I'll show you.

Right here in this book,
it's on the last page. See?

I see. And what are you going
to do once you get to Paris?

Never mind. I don't want
you to become involved.

- You give me that.
- Now, wait a minute.

If you're absolutely determined
to see this man,

we can bring him here.

You can bring him
here to Folkestone?

In this house?

Sure.

No. He'll never come.

Yes, he will. He'll come.

You're going to write
him a letter, right now.

You'll give him 24
hours to get here.

If at the end of that time
he hasn't shown up,

you'll go to the police about him.

You can bet he'll
be on the next boat.

He'd much rather be blackmailed than
charged with first-degree murder.

What, blackmailed?

He'll naturally assume
that's what you're up to.

Stay here.

Dr. Jeffries? I'm Sergeant Gordon.

Well, come in, Sergeant.

Thank you, sir.

A man was brought
to the hospital last night,

or rather early this morning.

A fisherman found him
in East Cliff Beach.

Oh, yes, the alcoholic.

I was told you drove
him to the station.

Yes, I did.
He caught the 5:05 to London.

He'd sobered up a bit. There was no
reason to keep him at the hospital.

Did you actually see
him catch the train?

No.

I let him out of the car
in front of the station.

Then you're not absolutely sure
he took the 5:05, are you, sir?

No.

Well, I think that will be all
for the moment, sir.

What's… what's he done, Sergeant?

Three days ago, a patient escaped
from the psychiatric clinic at Lewis.

A woman was found in the dunes,
raped and strangled.

How awful.

He's our number
one suspect so far.

Well, thank you for your
help, sir.

That was the police.

They found your wife.

They think you killed her.

It wasn't me. It was Paul Damien.

They don't even know he exists.

So you see, you can't leave now.

No. Wait here.

They're looking for me…

and he's over there in Paris, laughing
his head off at how clever he is.

Free as a bird.

Not for long.

Oh, hell.
He won't come back here now.

Now that they found her.

It's going to be in all the papers. He
won't come back now. I know he won't.

Yes, he will… after
he gets your letter.

But what do I write?

Word it any way you like.
He'll understand.

"Must see you in Folkestone immediately,
before contacting the police."

Be sure to put that down.
And use my address.

Okay.

Why are you doing this for me?

- Because you're my patient.
- Yes. Okay.

The metamorphosis is complete.

The personality transplant
has not been rejected.

On the contrary, he has become me.

Incapable of motivations
from his own past,

he has accepted my past.

I'm no longer an actor in
the drama, only a spectator.

Though the props are mine,

they too were accepted
with remarkable ease,

as anticipated.

The valise I prepared for him.

The suit I measured for him while he
slept and will now have to destroy.

The diary I wrote.

The nude photograph of Frances
I supplied to…

stimulate him.

Her letter from Paul
I found in her purse.

Everything.

That's great.

That's short enough
to send as a cable.

- Oh, hell.
- I'm sorry.

Does this stuff stain?

Gee, I don't know.
But it sure got in my eye.

Hell, you ruined my suit.

No, no, no. It's not ruined.

Yes, it is. Look at that.

I'll send it to the cleaner.

Meanwhile, let me get
this off first thing, okay?

Seventeenth.

Memory failure.

Patient brought in by a fisherman.

Notes for paragraph 133.

Symptoms of total
amnesia, cause unknown.

Schizophrenic tenden--

You mustn't touch that.

- You were talking about me.
- Yeah, it's okay.

The case histories of all my
patients are recorded here.

- There's a lot of them here.
- Yeah.

- You send that telegram?
- Yeah. It's on its way.

Come on. I'll teach you
how to play Liars' Dice.

Okay.

He won't come.

Maybe he never got the telegram.

You shouldn't have
anything to drink.

Maybe it was the wrong address.

He could have left
Paris, you know.

- Why don't we open that goddamn window?
- No.

Do you want another tranquilizer?

No!

Why don't you call the harbor?

Find out when the
next boat arrives.

He's not necessarily
coming by boat.

He could've flown to London
and taken the train from there.

Hello, Information? Can you tell me when
the next boat from France arrives, please?

Hovercraft from Boulogne,
sir, just coming in.

Thank you.

It's in the harbor now. If he's on
it, he'll be here in 15 minutes.

He won't be on it.
Laurence, look at me.

Tell me the truth.
Did you send that telegram?

Don't lie to me, please.

What? Why? Why would you
even think such a thing?

You've been against this
from the beginning, haven't you?

What the hell are you talking about?
It was my idea in the first place.

Yeah, just to humor
me, that's all.

Now come on, admit it.

That's ridiculous.

Just a doctor's trick.

A psychiatrist's trick.

I heard what you
said on that tape.

"Schizophrenic" something.

The only thing you're
interested in is curing me.

I'm telling you,
I sent that telegram.

And this damn Tv!
Why don't you get it fixed?

What about that newspaper?

What newspaper?

You said you were gonna go out
and buy a newspaper.

Oh, you know… later.

Go out and do it now.

Why?

I want to find out
what my name is.

My name will be in that paper now.

I want to know who I am.

- Go out and buy it. Go on.
- I don't want you reading newspapers.

They'll only upset you.

You're in a pitiful
enough state as it is.

I should never have
listened to you.

I should have gone to Paris
when I first started.

All this business
would be finished by now.

- What would have been finished by now?
- Nothing!

Staring at that picture isn't
gonna do you any good either.

It's all I've got left.

She was my wife.

We lived together,
made love together.

Sometimes…

Sometimes I remember everything.

I remember… things now and then.

I remember the room.

I remember the bed.

I remember her arms and
her shoulders. Everything.

Poor Frances.

Paris, please. Littré 41-53.

This is 78-91.

How long will it take?

I'll hold on then.

Hello? Hello?

I'd like to speak
to Mrs. Frances Jeffries, please.

S'il vous plait, Madame Jeffries.

This is the Hotel Bonaparte?

Do you have any
guests called Damien?

Mr. and Mrs. Paul Damien?

I see.

They're out at the moment.

Yes. No, no…

No message for Mrs. Damien.

Have you finished your call, sir?

When are the cleaners
going to bring back my suit?

Tomorrow.

I would like to have worn it
for my meeting with Damien.

Will I recognize him?

Well, maybe the shock
of seeing him again.

He'll recognize me.

I doubt that. It was very dark
when he attacked you in that fog.

I wonder what really happened on the
beach that night. I'll ask him.

He'll deny it. You can't expect him
to hand over a full confession.

I wish I could remember.

What about the newspaper?

Hold it.
It may be one of my patients.

Dr. Jeffries' residence.

Speaking.

Who is this?

Where are you calling from?

Yes. I'll be expecting you.

Well, right away.

What? Yes. I'm alone.

It's him.

What was that gibberish?

French. It'll put him at ease.

Why didn't you let me talk to him?

You will.

He's coming?

Right now.
He's in a pub down the road.

Ask him about Frances immediately.

That's the point of all
this, isn't it?

And take that off.

- Yes?
- He's going to lie to you.

- Don't let that throw you.
- I won't.

Where will you be?

I'll be around.

Paul Damien.

Come in.

I know I look shabby.
My suit's at the cleaners.

You're about what I expected.

What do you do for a living?
Tango dancer?

I'm a journalist.

Your brother-in-law
said you wanted to talk to me.

My what? Brother-in-law?

Yes. Andrew.

Frances' brother.
You sent him to me.

Remember?

Of course I remember.

And I want to talk to you.
Don't you want to talk to me?

Look, he tells me you intend
to discuss this matter calmly,

with a minimum of unpleasantness.

Good. I'm all for that.

Do you really think
that's possible?

Frankly, I don't know.

We have a score to settle,
Damien, you and me.

I warned him it might
turn into a brawl.

What the hell did you expect
after what you did?

What have I done?

You committed a crime.

I made Frances happy.

Something you were
never able to do.

Is that the crime
you're accusing me of?

You sound as if you
did her a favor.

You're a monster!

What are you talking about?

Well, I'm not talking
about sleeping with her.

And I'm not talking
about "making her happy"!

I'm talking about murder!

- Murder?
- Yes, murder.

And I know why you did it.

She was coming back to me,
so you killed her.

Killed Frances?

"Killed Frances."

Yes!

And now you stand there and want
to discuss the matter calmly.

What you're trying to do
is weasel your way out.

But I'm not going to let you.

But nobody's killed Frances.
What kind of insanity is this?

She's not dead.

She's not dead?

Of course not.

For God's sake, she's right here.

- Where?
- Do you actually think I killed Frances?

Where is she?

She's in the car.

Look.

Now what is all this?

Bring her in.

No, let's keep her out of it.

This is between the two of us.

You bring her in.

And don't you try to run away
or I'll shoot you.

Now go ahead.

He wants to see you.

Well, I don't want to see him.

He has a gun.

- You must be joking.
- No, I'm not.

Who is he?

He isn't Larry.

- Damien, you keep your hands off her.
- He isn't Larry.

Take your hands off her.
Now close that door.

Who is he?

- Damien, close the door.
- What's he doing here?

Frances, come over here.

Do as he says.

Now, tell him.

Come on. Tell him.

Tell him what?

That it's all over.
You know, you two.

Just tell him it's finished.

It's finished, Paul.

Tell him you love your husband.

I love my husband.

Now, tell him to get
the hell out of here.

Go on.

Get out, Paul.

Yeah.
You heard what she said, huh?

Now, you go away
and leave us alone.

Yes, I'm going. But…

But, hell. Out.

Can I talk to her?

No!

Just for a moment.

No, you can't.

Please.

All right. Okay…

Humor him. I'll get help.

I heard that!
I heard what you said!

All right. I'm leaving.

The hell you are.

You told her you were going to meet
her someplace, didn't you? Where?

The Hotel Bonaparte in Paris the
next time my back's turned, right?

Go.

You're not running away from me,
are you, Frances?

Don't. Please don't.

Don't you understand,
I've forgiven you.

But you did go back to him.

After going all the way to Paris
to bring you home,

and after all your promises,
back you went.

But it doesn't matter. Everything
is going to be all right now.

Don't you realize?
You just killed a man.

What the hell
difference does it make?

You're alive.

You're alive…

That woman on the beach…

It wasn't you.

I thought that…

I don't know what
the hell I thought.

Frances, you see, my brain
has been in such a chaos.

We can start all over again.

We'll take it right from the
beginning, and start brand-new.

Now that you're here, Frances, I
won't need this photograph anymore.

We can save it as a souvenir.

You know, when Laurence
went out to send the cable,

- I was looking…
- Laurence! Where is Laurence?

Frances, if you only knew
how much I've needed you.

Seems like such a long time.

I need you now, Frances.
I really need you.

I want you, Frances.

No!

No! Let go!

You mustn't run away from me.
You keep running away from me.

Please don't make me.

Let me go!

No!

No! Let me--

You tried to kill me.
And I'm your husband.

You're my wife. You're my wife.

You're my wife.

You're my wife.

You're my wife. You're my wife!

She's not your wife.

You see, you said this is my wife.

And that's her.

I'm afraid you'll have to leave
now. The consultation is over.

Okay, okay,
but I'm going to take my wife.

I told you she's not your wife.

Then… where is my wife?

Why don't you try East
Cliff Beach? Remember?

East Cliff Beach.

Okay, East Cliff Beach.

I don't know what I'm going to do.

You're a doctor.
You're supposed to help people.

Who was that man?

He was a patient. An amnesiac.

He… he killed a woman.

He won't get far.
The police are looking for him.

How long have you
known about Paul?

Quite a while.

Let's get this straight.
You gave him that photograph.

I gave him everything.
The whole story.

Including you.

You made him believe
I was his wife.

I kept out of it completely.

All I needed was someone
to pull the trigger.

How did you make him do that?

What are you doing?

Sergeant Gordon?
This is Dr. Jeffries.

I'm afraid I have
some very bad news for you.

That man you're looking for just shot
and killed someone over at my house.

Thank you.

You think the police
will buy that story?

It makes perfect sense.

A dangerous patient
followed me home,

broke into the house
and started shooting.

I can tell him the truth.

You lured Paul here
to have him killed.

- Andrew is my witness.
- No, Frances.

He'll confirm that I asked Paul
here to talk about the divorce.

Andrew is my witness.

So you succeeded.

Or you think you succeeded.

You've been working
overtime again, haven't you?

You certainly keep busy.

Sixteen hours a day
at the hospital.

Three hours homework
with your notes and your files.

Oh, yes. I almost forgot.

Three or four minutes with me occasionally
in bed, when you feel up to it.

A quick one, anybody,
before the next operation.

You're so conscientious
about everything you do.

But you're not quite
conscientious enough.

You've been neglecting one
of your patients, Dr. Jeffries.

In fact, her case history
isn't even recorded in your files.

Your bloody files!

Taking you up to date
in your gallery of freaks.

A murder. How clever.

A dilettante masterpiece.

But didn't it ever occur to you that
it might have been unnecessary?

Ask yourself…

in all the time you've spent
dreaming up this…

this nightmare,

how often have you thought of me
and asked yourself, "Why?"

Not once. Admit it.

You see, as usual, you've been much too
preoccupied with more important things.

You know something?

It's not only been
a second-hand murder, Larry.

It's been a second-hand
marriage too.

It's a full confession.

You can play it to the police
when they come.

It's up to you.

I'm guilty.

You're guilty of being a fool.