Original subtitles

(Train horn blaring)

(Somber music playing)

(Smooth music playing)

It's Paola. Look, I'm not there yet. I think someone is tailing me.

Call receiver: Oh, for Christ- Deliver it and then call me back, all right?

Yeah, sure.

Christian, um... Could you please give this to Maestro Oliver for me when he gets here.

- Sure. - I can't see him tonight. I'm busy. Thanks.

(Foghorn sounds)

- Good evening, Maestro. Miss Whitney came by earlier and left this note for you. - Oh, yes.

- There you are, sir. - Thank you.

Uh, bring me a whiskey, would you? The usual. - Yes, sir.

Whispering in next booth: I can't.

- You're asking too much of me.

- It's not fair.

- Just a small favor.

- No, it's not fair!

- You're using him... to force me to...

Your whiskey, sir. Will that be all then?

Uh, yes. Thank you.

Whispering in next booth: All right. All right, I'll do it.

- Tonight.

- All right, all right, tonight!

(Loud funky rock music playing)

(Indecipherable)

Dammit, Christian!

Waiter!

Hippie: Groovy.

- Christian!

- Sir?

Come here a second.

Yes, Maestro. Is anything the matter?

That customer there. - Hmm?

- Going out of the door, is it a man or a woman? - A woman.

- What does she look like?

- Uh, she's wearing a white cape but I didn't see her face at all.

She looked a little unsteady, as if she were drunk.

And who's at this table here? Around the corner...

- To tell the truth... um... I didn't serve that table.

Anyway, they're gone.

Impossible! I-I swear I heard two people having an argument. - Well, they could easily have left by the service entrance.

(Mysterious music playing)

- Ah, there you are, sir.

Burton... What are you doing here?

There was no need for you to come and get me. The house is two steps away.

I know, sir, but... She didn't turn up, did she, sir?

Touche.

Did you expect a lot?

No, eh...

I only had a feeling... that if by chance she didn't turn up, you might like someone to walk you back.

I think you've been with me too long, Burton.

Here, open this letter and read it.

Well, go on. What does it say?

Uh, she says... that she's very sorry- -Only it's all finished between Paola and me.

Well, it was bound to happen I suppose.

- You never did like her, did you? - Uh, it wasn't that I...

Let's go have another drink.

(Mysterious music playing)

Good morning, Mr. Morgan.

Hi there.

- Who's got my snips? - Right here. Just a sec.

So, hmm.

- Here. - Just put 'em down there.

- Good morning, Mr. Morgan. - Morning.

- In unison: Good morning, Mr. Morgan. - Morning, girls.

- Good morning to you, sir. - Whispering: That's him.

- Groovy. - Miss Ballais sure know how to pick 'em.

- What a hunk. (Giggling) - I wonder what she's paying Mr.-

Come on girls. Stop wasting time!

It's hard not to waste it when you've just seen Victor Morgan.

Well I prefer you do your swooning over Mr. Morgan at lunch.

Model 168.

Early snowfall.

Terribly banal.

What the hell. It's meant to be worn in winter.

- God, I've had it. - Is that the whole list?

To the last button.

Did you make a reservation?

Er, yes. Flight 810. Leave tomorrow evening at 6:00.

I'll get this over to the printers right away.

- Fine. - Hello, Helga.

- Morning, darling. - Ah, Victor.

How goes it? Okay?

Just great.

Ah, the models for the showing.

Plan's complete, eh?

Ah, not bad.

Ah, that's original.

Yeah. Well done!

It'll drive those Hamburg house fraus wild.

(Coughing)

And you're gonna drive me crazy.

Where the hell were you last night?

I spent the whole evening waiting for you to call me and you-

You might not have seen it but I left a note in the hall.

I got a call for help from an old acquaintance who once helped me out.

So I returned the favor. Never got near a phone.

When's your plane?

Tomorrow.

It'll be a big hit.

Yes, it's important I get a good reaction down in Hamburg.

It could make or break the season.

Sure could.

Well. I've got to go check the fittings.

To the right. So. Now.

It's terribly heavy.

- Hello, Wendy. - Hi, darling.

When I woke up, you'd already gone.

Shopping.

Let's you and I eat together.

- I wanna tell you something, all right? See ya later. - Sure. Okay. See ya.

Lift your arm.

Is this okay?

Perfect. Very nice.

What do you think, Miss Ballais?

No. Wrong material.

It's too overwhelming. I think we should go maybe for something in silk.

Give it a lame. Have her come in the other room the moment she's ready.

- How's it coming? - Fine, Miss Ballais.

Keep it up. We have to every single stitch ready to go out tonight.

Here, Miss Ballais. These were the materials you asked to see. I don't know if they're what you want, uh...

No.

- Here, this'll do. - K, girls! - Right, I'll take it in to the girls.

Helga, please.

Turn around.

- Mmm, I think your hemline's a bit short. Have Julie lengthen it right away. - Yes, ma'am.

Anna.

I'm better than Merlin. I've transformed you into a whole new girl.

Martin, I should think you'd've compared yourself more with the good fairy.

No joke, dear.

(Screaming)

(Screaming)

(Screaming)

Pipe down and stay back, all of you.

- She's dead. - (Sobbing)

Margot, what was going on?

Who was here with her?

Th-there was nowhere in here. (Sobbing) She was alone.

That's absurd. Look at this-the shawl is torn!

She was attacked! I'm sure of it!

Victor!

Paola.

Oh no.

I suppose I think you'd better call the police.

Here's the list, sir.

Well, it looks like it's complete.

Time of death, location and position of the body.

Statements obtained from those present. That is, I hope you've told me everything.

Or at least the essentials.

Interesting how straightforward it all is.

Oddly enough, there's only one jarring note.

The disappearing basket.

I saw a wicker basket when I went in.

And no basket was there when we investigated. Just getting it straight.

According to all of you, Paola Whitney was never on the outs with anyone.

There was no one...

No one who might've had it in for Paola enough to have her...

- Have her die like that. - But...

You mean you think Paola was actually-

Murdered, yes I do.

But she was alone. How on Earth is it possible? There, there wasn't...

Anyone there.

Yes, you did say that.

You were very good friends with Miss Whitney, weren't you?

Well, Paola was my roommate.

Only I don't know anyone that hated her.

Paola just wasn't the type that would've had enemies.

No enemies.

Well, and how about um...

...friends?

You know...

A fiance or...

...just a man.

A man?

Yes. Paola did have...

...someone she saw a lot of.

...who loved her very much.

Only I know him-he isn't capable of hurting a fly, Inspector.

(Classical music playing)

Ah, Miss Thornhill.

Hello there, Burton.

We'd like to the maestro a minute.

Well, he's in but he's recording now.

This is very important. I'm afraid it can't wait.

Come on, Inspector.

- How do ya do? - Inspector.

Paola Whitney was found dead this morning.

Dead?

Is it murder? Is that why you're here?

We're not sure.

In fact, we came hoping you could throw some light on the matter, Mr. Oliver.

Do you have some idea?

Some kind of suspicion?

Not for the moment.

For the moment I've only got question marks.

And I expect cooperation.

That all depends on what you ask.

For example, was Paola Whitney your lover, Maestro?

You surprise me, Inspector. The word "lover" belongs to Casanova's time.

I'm sorry but unfortunately I can't come up with any expression that says it better.

YES, I know.

Well then. Let's...

Let's say Paola and I were lovers until last night.

Because it happened to be... last night...

...that she told me she'd rather not see me anymore.

That is, she wrote it in a letter.

She wrote it to you? Just...

...last night?

I wonder what made her... do it?

If you'd known her, Inspector, you wouldn't be asking me that.

Paolo Whitney...

...was a very ambitious young girl.

She knew what she wanted and how to go about getting it and she knew that...

We both knew that it was senseless-her getting tied down... to someone like me.

Why?

I, uh...

...understand that...

...you're quite a wealthy man.

Quite.

I'm quite a blind one too.

Paola was extremely on edge the last month. I had a hunch that...

...that she was up to something. I...

Margot, have you any idea?

None at all. I... I couldn't tell you.

We were never that close.

I just don't know.

- Look, as roommate- - If Margot says it, she means it!

All right, all right.

In the event you happen to think of some useful detail...

...I do hope you'll let me know about it, Mr. Oliver.

You can count on it.

Casanova's day apart, I loved Paola a great deal.

And of course I'll be counting on you too, Miss Thornhill.

Margot.

Margot.

I'm so sorry to see you like this.

I know how much Paola meant to you.

We all got the afternoon off.

If you want me to, I'll stay, Peter.

Margot.

Tell me just what happened.

- Why would anyone murder Paola? - But it wasn't murder!

Look, I was on my way to change when I heard Paola scream.

And it wasn't... it wasn't two seconds before I went in.

And there wasn't anyone else in the room.

I know.

How come the police are in it then?

- They must have a reason for suspecting that- - No!

She was just lying there. It wasn't like she'd been beaten-

Who else was she involved with?

I wouldn't know. We never talked much.

Don't be afraid to say something because it'll hurt my feelings.

The relationship between us wasn't anything like that.

I was in love with her, yes.

But I never had any illusions.

I knew there were other men all along and there was no choice but to live with it.

I just wish that... there was something I could say. Only I...

Just a minute!

There is someone who could...

Of course, Harry!

Harry?

- You know him? - Harry.

Yes, Paola introduced him as a cousin.

I think he runs a photographic studio.

(Sexy music playing)

What the hell are you doing?!

Hello, Harry honey.

How often do I have to tell you I don't want you hanging around?

Now get dressed and get out.

Why so nasty? What have I done?

Nothing.

- Nothing except you picked the wrong moment. Now leave me alone. I'm busy. -All right.

I don't want you to think I'm pushy, Harry.

Look, when I come out of the dark room, I don't wanna find you here.

Oh, yeah.

Sorry, Harry honey. But if you'd rather get it off playing with yourself in the dark room, that's OK.

Go to hell.

Now you're sure the shawl wasn't Paola's?

It's the first time I ever saw it anywhere.

When she went to change it was-

She wasn't wearing it-I'm positive!

Then she found it there.

What about that scratch at the base of her neck?

How do you suppose that got there?

I couldn't tell you, Peter.

She fell down, I should think. I don't know.

At least it's logical.

And this basket which you say disappeared?

What kind of basket was it?

It was the type you'd use for sewing, I guess.

Certainly not big enough for anyone to hide in.

Dammit to hell. I thought I told you to get out of here.

Why don't you go play nymphomaniac somewhere else-AHHH!

Wait for us here, Burton.

- Looks like no one's here. Well, what can you expect at this time of night? Only... - Right.

Why was the door left open?

Odd, isn't it?

Have a look around. He could be in another room somewhere.

Hello??

Harry?

(Ominous music playing)

Margot: Is anyone here??

(Screaming)

What's wrong? Margot what is it?

A corpse!

It must be Harry!

He's all bloody! I'm so afraid!

Don't look at him any longer.

Is there a telephone around?

I think so.

Find it. And phone the police.

All right, what's your excuse?

Why didn't you tell me about this Harry?

Well, I... I really didn't think it was all that important.

- If you'd let me be the judge of that he might still be alive. - What are you getting at?

You wanna accuse her of the murder?

Now listen here, Oliver.

I have a sign on my office door, says "Homicide".

So let me do my job and don't mix in, get it?

I was obstructing?

Yes.

By acting on your own initiative.

It's sounds to me as if I'm being obstructed now from acting as I may see fit.

What you oughta consider fit is to allow me to run this. Get the lab boys down here.

- Inspector, if I recall-you asked me to cooperate, didn't you? - Yes, I did.

But I've no desire to investigate a third murder.

Are you saying... the next one the killer is likely to go after is me?

Mmm?

Murder is a big burden on the tax payer.

Excuse me, Inspector. Would you come here a moment?

Sure.

Peter.

- What is it? - Take a look at these negatives.

Take 'em to the lab. I want prints right away.

Yes, sir.

I'm very sorry. I know how you must feel.

Only I've still got some problems I want to get straightened out here.

But you go. Tell Burton to... to take you home and then come back here.

And you go straight to bed, all right?

All right, Peter. Whatever you say.

Go on.

Where's Miss Thornhill?

I made her go home.

What the hell for?

Two murders in twelve hours is pretty much for anyone to take.

You have a point.

And how are you getting home?

You needn't worry about that.

Look, Inspector-I believe the killer acted...

Out of fear of having something found out.

Yes, blackmail. That is-to avoid it.

I see.

And how do you deduce that?

Whoever it was killed Harry was looking for something.

Something which he couldn't completely erase with the first killing. Now he could have found it, but if you search hard...

...we might get lucky.

We're not all that unprofessional, Mr. Oliver.

And believe it or not, we've already come up with something.

What's that?

Well, you're the one with all the theories. Why don't you have a guess?

Sorry, it's negative film

Do you know what's on it?

Yeah.

But you're not gonna find it the least bit amusing.

They're shots...

...of Paola Whitney.

Paola's dead and buried.

All that matters now is knowing who it was that murdered her.

These photos show Paola Whitney with someone.

Needless to say, they were in bed together.

With a...

Harry?

No.

With Mr. Francois Ballais.

Victor Morgan is his real name.

Victor Morgan?

Victor, I...

This whole thing makes me feel-I don't know-uneasy.

I'm not going on the flight.

The show can wait. We'll cancel out.

C'mon, why?

You said yourself-it's the big number of the year.

Things'll blow over in a couple of days. Anyway, there's nothing we can do about it.

Hmm?

OK. But...

Paola...

Didn't you find...

...that there was anything unusual about how...

- You really don't know anything? - No.

Sure didn't expect it.

C'mon now. Let me have it straight.

I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry, Victor. Don't get me wrong. But I-I knew about your affair and I...

And I'm glad to forgive you for it but I don't...

...but how it could end...

Francoise...

God's sake, I...

An affair-sure, true. We had an affair together.

But it couldn't have been less serious.

She was...

...what she was.

The night...

The night before she died...

(Sexy wah-wah guitar playing)

What's that??

Let go!

LET GO!

Rotten little bitch! I'll kill you!

It's just a normal reaction.

Sure, at that moment I felt like breaking her neck.

But I didn't kill her.

Believe me, Francoise.

Yes, I do.

Woman on loudspeaker: Your attention, please.

Scandanavian Airlines announced the departure of Flight 714 to Hamburg.

I'll miss my flight.

I won't worry. Only, if anything happens... do call me, eh?

Sure.

I don't want you by yourself.

Woman on loudspeaker: (Speaking French)

Victor Morgan.

Yes.

Police.

Mind coming along with us please?

So you found them?

Greedy little blackmailing slut.

You know, now that you admit that...

...you're the one with a prime motive for murdering her.

You're skating on thin ice.

Ah, what thin ice am I skating on?

So I'm guilty of adultery. And believe you me, I was about to get shafted.

'Cause Paola probably would have showed those things to my wife if I didn't put out.

But she's dead.

Yeah, well...

Yeah, I admit the other day I was up the wall. I didn't know what I was going to do.

Except I wasn't giving in. The bitch found out I had power of attorney over company funds and she was after that.

She wanted... everything! So what would you do?

Well, I love my wife and I sure as hell wasn't gonna do it.

But I wouldn't go out and kill for that.

You're still in trouble.

To start with, you're not married to Francoise Ballais.

So husbandly devotion won't sell.

You have every reason to stick close to her though. She's a made-to-order meal ticket for you.

And a nice way to erase the stigma of your former occupation, Morgan.

But unfortunately, the law doesn't forget.

And a history of fraud doesn't improve your position any.

Four years in jail.

Do we have to go through the details??

Look, I run a fashion house now; I'm out of all that other mess!

I'm glad to hear it.

Uh, you and Miss Ballais have been together for quite a while.

Yet you've only worked for her about a year.

- How come the sudden big time executive? - Well...

You see, my wife and I were in an accident.

A bad one. She spent a long time in a clinic and...

Someone had to keep an eye on things so I took over.

And this is the way that uh...

...you keep an eye on things?

Going to bed with the hired help?

Oh come on, Inspector. You don't have to rub it in. I know I'm not saint, for cr-

How did Paola die?? You don't even know that!

So what gives you the right to haul me in?? Will you show me a killer in one of these photos??

Have you any idea who took these works of art?

No.

Look at me there-bare-assed, embarrassed, and howling mad.

Would you wait around to be introduced?

No, I suppose not.

But you might have recognized who it was. Or better yet, you might even have followed him and then introduced yourself.

- HELL, I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF IT WAS A MAN OR- - Calm down, Morgan. Calm down. (Phone rings)

Jansen, Homicide.

Yeah, tell me.

What?

I mean, you sure?

Yeah, sure, sure. No, it's OK.

Thanks.

It's crazy.

That was the coroner.

The autopsy showed Paola Whitney died of failure of the cardiocirculatory system.

Well, all that is is...

Nothing more than a simple heart attack.

So it appears I can't accuse anyone of murder.

You've got to believe me-how disappointing.

Yes, it is.

As far as Paola is concerned.

But I'll see you, Morgan.

Whenever you like.

The photographer is dead too.

And uh, it'll be somewhat difficult to classify that as a...

Simple heart failure.

I'm not asking much.

What do you think the...

...that the inspector would say? You'd been up to your ears if he knew you had that shawl the other day.

Yeah, sure. I've all the time in the world.

Until Friday.

I'll be thinking of you.

Who was that?

One of those telephone surveys.

Did you hear?

Papers say that Paola died a natural death.

I just can't believe it.

It doesn't make sense

That desperate scream of hers.

Like a monster was in there attacking her.

I admit I didn't... care too much for her. But still, it's awfully sad.

Well, someone there was attracted to her.

A potential monster.

What do you mean?

Oh, nothing.

A monster, that's all.

I was just thinking of someone who seems to get a big kick out of giving away shawls.

Who's that?

If you know, better tell the police, Helga.

The police?

Why, if you give someone a shawl-is that a crime?

The point is...

I don't like playing everything by the um... rules, hmm?

(Jaunty music playing)

(Telephone ringing)

He-

Hello?

(Whispering) Susan.

Yeah.

Y-yes, this is S-Susan.

I have another one of those errands for you tonight.

No!

I don't w-wanna do it again!

Have it your own way.

I feel sorry for you.

Must be pretty bad.

Yes, but I...

Just about run out by now, haven't you?

- I need more. Can you get me some? - The errand...

I- I don't wanna do it-it's awful! You...

Please! You promised me I didn't have to-(Phone clicks)

Die! (Screaming)

Die! Die! (Screaming)

So I've taken all the timing down.

Bless you.

I've already written a couple of themes.

And, uh, with Burton's help I should have the score in a week or so.

Oh, Burton, why don't you get Gert a drink?

Right away, sir.

No, no. I really have to run. Thanks anyhow.

Uh, I think it's time we were offtoo, sir.

Yeah, sure.

Um...

Any trouble getting it all?

No, none.

- But sir, I- - Then, let's get going.

Spending all that money and I don't even know how to use a camera, sir.

Oh, go on. Don't worry, Burton.

This camera does everything all by itself.

And anyway, you're not doing this for the sake of art.

Margot will let you in and you shoot that boutique from top to bottom.

Every detail.

Wouldn't it be sufficient to go in there with you and describe you the details?

Too wide a margin for error.

There may be something you'd forget or not notice.

Whereas the camera won't forget anything.

And who knows what it might reveal?

But, uh, are you quite positive nobody will come bursting in on me?

Don't worry.

- You have it all? - Mhm.

After you're let in, tell Margot I want her to come to me.

- Go on now. Stiff upper lip, Burton. - All right.

SIR, LOOK OUT!

Good Lord, sir! Where were you going??

Burton.

A woman crossed the street a few seconds ago,

I believe she's got a white cape on and... she's got a funny walk! Sort of hesitant!

Yes, white cape. I see her.

Keep your eye on her, Burton. And listen!

I want you to tail that woman. Try to find out... what her name is.

With luck, she'll lead you to her flat.

The boutique though...

- Didn't you- - Oh, never mind that!

Go on, now! Don't lose sight of her!

Go on!

Hello, Peter.

Margot!

- Tell me, can you drive a car? - Sure.

- Then, come on. We've gotta follow Burton. - Why, what's going on?

- Get in, quick. - All right.

(Mysterious music playing)

Hey!

Wait a minute!

(Whistle blows)

Hey you! What's the idea??

Come on.

The omnibus!

That doesn't mean you can walk through a red light.

At the crossing back there. Hmm?

Yes, yes.

What's the point of all this anyhow?

I'll explain after.

Where are we now?

In front of the station.

Go 'round again.

All right.

He may have gone into a building.

Wait a minute. There he is.

On the corner. Let's hope he's all right-there's a policeman with him.

Poor Burton. He has a knack for finding trouble.

Understand??

Yeah, yeah, thanks. Sorry, it won't happen again.

Unfortunately, by the time I got out of the store, she was just getting onto the omnibus.

I was about to try to follow by taxi when this traffic man stopped and-

Did you see what line it was?

Yes, I believe it was uh...

...18, sir.

Try to catch it, Margot.

And you, Burton-keep your eyes open.

Even if she's got off, we might still be able to spot her.

Darn! Of all the luck.

There's no one on it.

- How many stops did you count? - Four.

Well, at least our field of search has been narrowed down a little.

But then again, maybe she took some other transportation after getting off the bus.

Terribly sorry, sir.

Oh, go on. Don't feel so bad. You can...

You can more than regain your reputation with the photos.

Let's go back there.

And while Burton does his bit of sleuthing, we'll wait for...

...for him at The Purple Grille.

I'm hungry all of a sudden.

You knew about Victor Morgan then.

You knew about the whole thing.

Yes, but...

...not about the photos and the blackmail.

I knew Paola was up to something, only...

I didn't tell the police about it because that would have been accusing him and...

...and I wasn't...

Well, I'm still not sure it would ever...

But to me?

Why didn't you say anything to...

I'm sorry. You're right. It would have hurt me.

You know you're an adorable person, Margot.

I must have been insane, preferring Paola to you.

Oh, now that's being silly.

Paola was no Mother Superior but...

She was fair with you. After all, she could have cheated on you for years and you'd never have known about it.

Yet she preferred to break it off.

And she...

...left me the note at the same bar where I heard the woman we tried to follow today.

Sheer coincidence or...?

Who do you suppose that woman is?

Well it just might solve the mystery to everything if I knew.

A hundred to one she's a drug addict of some kind. I...

The conversation I heard... The pressure she was under...

The way it hit me, this person with her was furnishing her with drugs in exchange for something.

Something that...

...called for a victim and that-

And the victim was Paola.

But how can I tell the police I suspect a shadow with a white cape on or...

Or a voice?

An odor...

An odor?

An odor of what kind?

Excuse me.

Good man.

Did you find anything?

No. Sorry, sir.

Oh yes! The charwoman came in and mentioned she's overheard someone say they knew about that shawl.

Who was it?

The model, she said.

Ah, Helga!

Helga?

Keep the change.

- Thank you. - Night. - Night.

(Gasping)

That you, Wendy?

(Mysterious music playing)

Where did you come from?

Looking for home?

Mmm?

(Cat meows) Come here.

(Cat screeching)

Helga?

(Screaming)

(Screaming)

- We'd better get her to the hospital! - Come on.

- Careful! - Here we go.

Easy does it.

Gently.

Let's go.

Take her away.

I give up! How come you always manage to be there whenever we discover a body?

And can you tell me the reason for those scratches or for the yellow shawls.

Or are you convinced that you're up against another simple case of death due to natural causes?

You're quite welcome to attend the autopsy!

Look, Oliver-withholding evidence is a crime!

Well then I'd make a poor criminal. But...

I have a strong feeling that...

...that girl in the hospital is still marked. I'd keep a close watch over her.

Excellent advice.

You have any other brilliant suggestions to make?

Yes.

There's a woman I think you should track down.

Rather tall and heavy set.

Around thirty, I'd say.

And she almost always wears a hooded white cape. Should be easy to spot.

She has a hoarse voice and her walk is a bit unsteady.

As if she were drunk.

- Now listen. - I'M NOT FINISHED.

Now in all probability, you'll find she lives in an area...

located between the eastern end of the 18th transit line

and the street where the fashion house is situated.

And moreover this woman's a junkie!

And one other thing.

- She smells. - Naturally.

No, it's true, by God.

There's an odor she has...

kind of fetid.

- NOW LOOK, Mr. Oliver. I- - Yes, I'm blind as a bat. I know that!

And I've reeled off a bunch of nonsense that's impossible to investigate, it's so vague.

I'm very sorry.

There's no more I can say, Inspector.

I have no more evidence to withhold.

Let's go, Margot.

Would it be possible for Margot to look at the shawl?

Damn inspector thinks I murdered the photographer.

Now Helga.

He'll pull me in on that too-you can bet on it.

Things'll turn out all right in the end.

But how the hell'd you know?

I was short a dress.

So I called the shop and when they told me I...

I went berserk. I just couldn't stand Hamburg so I...

grabbed the first flight I could get.

- And the showing? - I postponed it. I want to make sure Wendy's all right.

And I won't go til you've been completely cleared of suspicion.

This mess is so rotten. It's ruining life for everyone.

- Let's stop by the house before going to the hospital. I want to change. - Mmm.

Wendy.

Can you hear?

Wendy.

Yes.

Helga. Poor Helga.

Yes, I know, dear. I know.

But try not to think about it anymore.

- You have to get well again. - Oh, Francoise.

Now calm down.

I don't wanna stay here. I wanna...

Please, I'm afraid, Francoise.

They tried to kill me and they'll try to kill me again.

Help me please. I'm so scared!

Tomorrow. It'll be all right.

- Good morning, Miss Ballais. - Good morning.

I heard about your return so I...

Rushed over, right away.

Thank you.

To what do we owe this honor?

A warrant for Victor?

Or me?

Oh, now don't get mad.

You have an excellent alibi but uh...

But not old Victor. Isn't that so?

Arrest me then. Throw me in jail, Inspector.

That way if there's another murder, at least for once I will have an alibi.

Darling, please.

Listen, I happen to know that...

That you think Victor is guilty.

Just because of some stupid photography.

But!

It won't hold water.

You see-I was aware that he was going with Paola Whitney.

My husband confessed it all.

He did?

When was that?

The night before her death. Right after Paola...

...had threatened Victor with the photographs.

I see.

How come you didn't mention it?

Well, it...

...was on the tip of my tongue but when you said Paola died naturally, I...

I didn't think it was...

...there was any point in it.

Do you remember what else it was I said to you?

Concerning... someone having murdered the photographer?

- I... - Um, why don't you arrest me for that one?

The devoted wife, trying to protect her poor Victor.

Sure, the pictures were dangerous.

They might have incriminated him.

Of course.

And if you want my alibi for that night...

He knows where I was.

That's right. Uh...

That whole night Francoise and I were home and in bed.

That's right.

You want me to detail our activities for the evening?

No I can well imagine them.

Then do we leave?

Or perhaps you want to accuse us of murdering Helga?

And of scaring Wendy half to death.

No, Miss. You're completely free.

Even to fly back down to Hamburg, if you want.

Thanks.

And thank you.

Let's just forget about it.

But I want you to believe me.

Now, listen.

Will you get it through your head?

To me it's immaterial what you've done or what you haven't done.

Wait a minute.

Francoise...

That night I did go see her.

No, Victor. I...

I don't wanna hear about it. I don't wanna hear about anything.

But it was only to get the photos!

Sure, I thought of giving up fast going over.

And then when I got there, he'd already been killed.

I might have found the photos, if it hadn't been for Margot and Peter Oliver!

- Peter Oliver? - Yeah.

That blind jerk started up an investigation on his own.

(Jazz music playing)

Excuse me, sir.

It's all done.

Good man.

Tomorrow morning, then.

No, tonight.

It'll be in all the evening editions.

(Sneezes)

Awfully sorry, sir.

If you don't mind, I think I'll go and change.

And then come have a brandy.

- Thank you, sir. - Go ahead.

(Animals squawking)

I got a parcel here for you, miss.

You'll have to sign.

All right. Thank you.

(Maniacal laughter)

(Circus music playing)

Yeees.

You're my only friend in the whole wide world.

(Animals squawking)

(Whispering) Wendy Marshall...

This package just came for you.

Thanks.

Hello?

Did you get my little present?

I'll be coming by in a while to see how the yellow looks on you.

(Funky rock music playing)

(Gasping)

(Cat screeching)

(Screaming)

Inspector!

Yeah, yeah. Let 'em by. They're OK.

You're amazing, you know that?

Not really, sir. We tried to call Miss Marshall and when we checked with police headquarters

they told us that this was where you were.

Have you found anything, Inspector?

About all I can tell you is that Miss Marshall

did not end up under that subway train of her own volition.

That's it.

Inspector!

Take a look at this.

You go too, Burton.

Over there.

It's a severed head of a black cat, sir.

When the hell are you gonna start to believe what I say?

Carl.

I want you to follow them.

Inspector?

Look what I found.

Peter?

Burton!

(Gasping)

Oh, Burton.

What's that?

And the basket?

Peter.

What's going on? What is all this?

I scared her out of her wits, it appears.

You know the old saying "the butler did it," don't you? (Doorbell rings)

- It's all so awful, Peter. - Now Wendy too.

Well, try not to think about it.

You mind telling me the meaning of this?

Third column, top of page 17.

Black Cat Killed Yesterday Night. White dressed woman to collect premium. Please call Peter Oliver: MA 78456.

I've run ads in all the papers like that for the last three days.

I just updated it for today.

FOR GOD'S SAKE, CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE LAYING YOURSELF WIDE OPEN??

To begin with, you can't even defend yourself.

- You're just liable to- - I wouldn't be so sure of that, Inspector.

The more I become involved in this, the more I come to think my sight is rather acute.

When you're dead, don't say I didn't warn ya!

The devil is this?

Mr. Oliver, where did you get this shawl?

- In a store, where else?? - But...

What's it for?

Well since you dropped in...

You might as well see the experiment.

Burton.

Bring that basket over here.

I also bought a black cat, exactly like the one that was killed.

All right now, Inspector. Show the shawl to the cat.

As you can see, nothing happens.

Nothing happens. So what?

Just be patient. The real test hasn't yet begun.

- Burton, please go ahead. - Yes, sir.

Let's try showing that shawl to the cat again now.

(Cat screeching)

What did he put in that shawl?

An ordinary liquid repellent.

A repellent?

Yes.

You can go into nearly every pharmacy and obtain it.

It's got no odor whatsoever to man.

But it's an irritant to many animals. Above all to felines, as you've just seen.

Even irritated though, all a cat could do is scratch a little.

It's almost impossible for it to kill.

However, give it this...

And the smallest scratch becomes fatal.

Curare.

So it's your theory that the killer...

- The killer probably dipped the cat's claws in curare- - I'm sure of it.

And the cat then attacked his victims out of reaction to the repellent. Causing uh...

...cardiocirculatory failure.

Like poor Paola Whitney.

Like poor Helga Schurn.

Curare leaves no traces. It's really quite remarkable.

Yes, I confess the police came up with the very same theory.

Only you sound as if it's uh...

...an already proven fact, Mr. Oliver.

(Phone ringing)

Hello.

Yes, this is Peter Oliver.

Look, please don't worry.

I just want to help you, that's all.

It's about your ad. I...

Can you come to me?

No please, I...

I'm afraid.

I'm afraid of ending up like poor Tommy.

He was my only friend.

I've decided to tell everything.

I don't care. Yes, the police. I just want to be rid of this awful nightmare.

Yes, I swear it.

Speak up, if you would. I can hardly hear you.

Where do you live, exactly?

Well, just tell me the address.

Are you still there?

(Bird squawking)

Yes, do you have a pencil?

Only please come over right away. I'm going crazy. I-

Yes, yes, right. I live in...

You there?

The line's gone dead.

Didn't have the time to tell me her address.

Well...

It's gonna be a problem tracking her down now.

Hold on a minute.

Burton, would you play us the end of that call again?

Excuse me. I didn't understand. Did you say you're innocent?

Speak up, if you would. I can hardly hear you.

Where do you live, exactly?

Well, just tell me the address.

(Bird squawking)

Stop it right there!

Go back a little now.

That's enough, Burton.

Did you hear it?

All those birds, you mean?

And you remember when I-

...when I told you strange odor the white caped woman had? That's it!

Now I know where that odor comes from.

And you smirked when I told you.

Nooo.

You have eyes and you're blind, Inspector! You have ears but you're really deaf!

The screeching of a parrot!

Canaries singing!

Puppy dogs...

That was a pet shop we heard!

We already have a good idea of the approximate area she lives in, right? Now that's a start!

Yes. You said...

...the end of one of the bus-

The 18, Inspector!

Anywhere from there to the house of Ballais.

- You want the police to search every shop in the area, is that it, Oliver? - Yes!

All right. What the hell. How many pet shops can there be in a square mile?

Oh!

- Oh, good morning. - Hello, Margot.

What do you want?

Nothing. I was bringing in the mail.

Go on. Just put it down over uh... there on the desk.

Are you looking for anything?

No, it's all right. You can go.

Well, maybe I know where it is- Look, would you just get out?

Thanks.

- Dump these drawings in the file. - Yes, sir. Right away.

Oh!

I'm sorry!

GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!

No, leave 'em alone!

- GO ON! - I'm going, I'm going!

Long distance.

I want to speak to Hamburg.

The Hotel Atlantic.

To a Francoise Ballais.

(Phone ringing)

Who is it?

Yes. Who is this?

Thank you.

Hello?

Victor?

Victor!

Operator?!

Operator!

Is anybody??

Dammit, Operator! Are you there??

Hello?

(Gasping)

Good morning, madam.

Operator!

Operator!!

Oh, come on.

OPERATOR!

What the hell is going on?! Hello?!

A yellow shawl.

Another victim.

How long before the next...

Susan Leclerc, thirty-five.

Mrs. Leclerc, who ran a small pet shop at 16 Hinkle St

was once married to the proprietor of a circus and worked together with him as an... animal trainer.

She stopped performing entirely after he was attacked and killed by a lion.

Probably had to close the circus.

Ran into bad luck.

End up living with that sad little shop in the end.

Mhm.

Could be her cat was the last remaining link to memories of a brighter past.

After all his death is what got her to call.

Pathetic story.

However, it's... all over now.

- Over? - Mhm.

Nooo.

- No? - No.

What do you mean?

The police found everything there you told them they'd find. The repellent.

- The curare... - No motive though.

Why would a sad little storekeeper murder Paola?

Or Helga? Wendy?

Harry?

Why on Earth would she have done it?

The police will come up with the motive sooner or later, I'm sure.

Sir, really. You should let the authorities do a little.

Uh, if you'll excuse me now, sir. I have an appointment with a copyist to go over your new score.

Copyist?

- Of course. Go ahead. - Yes, thank you, sir.

(Phone ringing)

Hello?

Yes.

Ah, good evening!

Excuse me, sir!

Yes, coming.

One moment, please.

It's Miss Thornhill, sir.

How are you, Margot?

Yes, tell me.

You what?

Of Susan Leclerc?

Do you have the photos?

Now listen, Margot. You come right over.

And then we'll get hold of Inspector Jansen.

(Funky rock music playing)

(Phone ringing)

Peter Oliver.

I know who killed Paola Whitney and the others.

I can tell you everything you want to know.

Are you alone?

Yes.

Get in.

I've been ringing for ten minutes and no answer!

- I don't understand! - Well he was here when I went out. Are you there, sir?? - Peter? Peter??

Let's try the recorder.

He often leaves messages on it when he goes out.

Meet me at the Burnstorm Glassworks.

All right, but I need some time. I have to take a taxi.

Never mind! Be in front of the Gilleleje Restaurant in five minutes. I'll pick you up.

Let's call the inspector.

(Ominous music playing)

(Police sirens)

Cover all the exits! Move it!

HANG ON, OLIVER!

WE'LL GET YOU DOWN, OK! JUST HANG ON! YOU'RE NOT TOO FAR OFF THE GROUND SO DON'T WORRY!

I want two men up there.

- CAREFUL, SIR! - THEY'RE ON THEIR WAY UP NOW! You two-move it!

(Gasping)

Inspector! There's someone moving around over there!

Come on! Come on, Margot!

Peter!

- Sir! - Are you hurt??

No, no.

HALT! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!

There's absolutely no reason to stay though, sir. This is a matter for the police. Please come home with us.

Not yet! I've got to know who that man is.

I couldn't recognize him by his voice.

There are still too many questions to be answered!

You go home then. And take her, take her with you. I won't be long.

- But... - As you wish, sir.

Margot, I'm all right.

Go on, now and don't worry.

(Frantic music playing)

(Police sirens)

No use, Morgan!

HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!

Clasp your hands over your head.

WATCH YOUR STEP, MORGAN!

LOOK OUT!

Now make yourself at home.

You look rather drawn out. A shower might help you feel better.

I'll go down and put the car away.

Thank you.

S'that you, Peter?? (Screaming)

Burton?

Margot?

(Score plays)

(Screaming)

Die! (Screaming)

Damn blind meddler!

Francoise Ballais.

I had a feeling it was you but I didn't know for sure til Margot saw those photos of you with Susan Leclerc.

You were good friends during her circus days.

You killed Paola out of sheer jealousy.

And then you were forced to kill Harry.

And then Helga, who knew about the shawls.

And Wendy.

And then Susan,

who you used and who was about to betray you.

And now Margot. You're a monster!

Yes, I am! You can't see me!

I had a car crash.

And what that did to my body can never be repaired.

It was Victor's fault and that's why Victor's mine!

Poor old Victor.

He just thought he was protecting you and now...

- Now he's dead! - What?!

That's not true!

Yes, and it was as if you were the one who killed him.

NO, YOU'RE LYING!

Victor's dead-he was your last victim, Miss Ballais!

No, Mr. Oliver. I haven't killed you yet!

Hold it!

Step aside, Oliver!

You're under arrest, Miss.

NO!

(Screaming)

(Somber music playing)