Original subtitles

(somber saxophone music)

(dramatic saxophone music)

- Pascale!

Let's go!

(water trickling)

It's late.

We don't have much time.

(car engine rumbling)

Remember that your flight to Paris

leaves shortly after mine.

- [Pascale] We don't even have enough time

to really say goodbye.

- [Man] We'd get arrested if we did.

- Okay.

That's yours.

Thomas, don't forget to send me your new address

if you leave Lagos.

Okay.

You know it's going to be hot there.

I read it's one of the warmest parts in Africa

and I'm going to be cold.

I know it sounds silly,

the distance and time will make me feel

even further away from you.

- Right.

One month and I'll be back with you.

10 days of holidays

and then off again.

But this time together.

- I wish I was going with you.

- I'll only be away for one month.

It'll go by quickly.

(somber beat music)

Take care.

(upbeat instrumental music)

- Oh, madame, you flight left a few minutes ago.

- That's not possible.

- It was called several times.

Didn't you hear it?

- My suitcase is still on the plane.

- Yes, well,

you'll be able to pick them up tomorrow in Paris

but there are no more flights today.

I'm very sorry about that.

Sorry.

- If you like, I can put you on the standby.

- No, I have to leave as soon as possible.

- You could leave tomorrow afternoon on the same flight.

- No, that's too late.

At least try and get me on a flight in the morning.

- Tomorrow morning, I'll see what I can do, madame.

I'll let you know later if you leave me

your telephone number.

- 3-7-7-3-2

No, wait.

I'm sorry.

You can get me at the Kempinski Hotel.

- Kempinski Hotel, do you have a phone number?

- No, I don't know it, I'm sorry.

- It doesn't matter.

I'll find the number.

Don't worry, madame, I'll let you know.

- Thank you very much.

(upbeat music)

Stop there, please.

I've changed my mind.

Take me to the Kleinhoff Hotel.

You can go around the square.

I stayed there many years ago when I was a student.

- I'm afraid you're in for a surprise.

- What do you mean?

- [Driver] Well, it's completely changed now.

(upbeat music)

- Good afternoon, madame.

What can I do for you?

- I'd like a room.

Room 32, to be exact.

I'm an old client.

Mrs. Guder is bound to remember me.

- She sold the hotel many years ago.

It's part of a hotel chain now.

I'm sorry, madame, the room 32 is occupied.

- Well,

what about a room overlooking Aberstrath?

- Number 19 is free.

How long will you be staying?

- Just one night.

(bell ringing)

- Sign here, madame.

- Thank you.

- Accompany the lady to room 19.

(somber piano music)

- Anything else?

Good afternoon, madame.

- Thank you.

(police siren alarming)

(dramatic piano music)

(thudding)

(footsteps tapping)

(rustling)

(water trickling)

(rustling)

(clunking)

(man muffled speaking)

- [Man] Sleep is lovely.

Death is better still.

Not to have been born,

that, of course, is the greatest miracle of them all.

Sleep is lovely.

Death is better still.

Not to have been born,

that, of course, is the greatest miracle of them all.

Or you going to say it with me or not?

Now come on, huh?

I'm beginning to sound like a fucking parrot.

Sleep is lovely, death is better still.

Not to have been born,

that, of course, is the greatest miracle of them all.

Do I have to get down on my hands and knees

to make you say it?

Sleep is lovely, death is better still.

Not to have been born,

that, of course, is the greatest miracle of them all.

(knocking)

- Put is there, please.

- [Maid] Good evening, madame.

- Good evening.

(door closing)

- Booth number two, madame.

- Hello?

Hello?

Yes, yes, it's me, Mother.

No, I haven't left yet.

I'm in a hotel.

The house would seem so empty without Thomas.

I prefer to stay in a hotel.

Yes.

Yes, I can hear you, Thomas is fine.

No, everything's okay.

No, nothing happened.

No we haven't quarreled.

I saw him off at the airport.

No, Mother, I promise we haven't had a fight.

We're perfectly happy, believe me.

We are very happy, believe me.

Tomorrow evening, for sure.

Yes.

If Thomas phones, you'll explain, would you?

- Forget your work.

I said, to hell with your work!

- Yes, bye-bye.

- Where are the drugs?

Listen, goddamn it, I need it!

It's the same every day, isn't it?

Another damn stall.

Yeah, which is why I've been stuck

in this fucking hotel for a week.

Yes.

Yes! Yes!

For Christ's sake!

(man groaning)

- The 210 flight tomorrow is booked up.

I'll see if I can get you a seat on the evening flight.

- [Pascale] I'd appreciate it if you would.

- Thank you.

- Give me some money for the phone, will you?

(somber saxophone music)

- Excuse me, Karl.

- Where the hell have you been?

- What's the matter with you?

I came as soon as you called.

Listen, you don't need to be so uptight.

I'm here, aren't I?

Come on, Karl, what's really--

- You oughta take a look at yourself

in the mirror now and then.

You're a wreck.

Look at the way you're dressed.

Like some cheap whore.

(woman mumbling)

Are you sure he's still staying there?

- [Woman] Are you having hearing problems or something?

Now where are you going, Karl?

Wait a minute, Karl, for Christ sake!

(somber saxophone music)

(door creaking)

(door closing)

- [Karl] You know how it is.

We saw each other every night.

- [Woman] All that time.

- [Karl] Yeah, we've been together a long time.

Maybe too long.

She was always hanging around.

I could never get rid of her

until I started reciting the first thing

that came into my head.

Hey, what're you doing?

- [Woman] I'm going to stay.

- [Karl] So there I am, right,

reciting Miller as if I were reciting some kind validity.

Through are cunts that laughs and there are cunts that talk.

And then there are cunts that are crazy, hysterical.

All the time she was looking at me,

as if I was off the ways.

(woman laughing)

Then what does she do?

She shows me hers.

That brings me back to Miller's.

There are red cunts, black cunts, acrylic cunts.

Cunts that castrate, that swallow you alive.

Then there are cunts that are fake, just there for show.

- [Woman] Oh, come on.

- [Karl] You don't believe me?

- [Woman] No.

- [Karl] There are political cunts,

their are nihilist cunts soaked in ideology,

feminist cunts that even go as far as to deny menopause.

At that point, I said,

"Are religious cunts like your sister's

"that smell of the rosary, that reek of incense,

"that are maggot-infested as a stale bread cunt."

She got so scared, the poor bitch, she left

and I never saw her again.

All the time I was there.

(woman huffing)

Forget it.

(woman sighing)

- [Woman] Why?

- [Karl] Because I don't need it.

You can see the way I live, can't you?

- I need to be with you again.

Help me.

- [Karl] We can't go back.

This is 1978.

The streets are empty.

No one to cheer for "Red" Petra.

- [Petra] We can begin again.

I hate the life I'm living now.

It's too full of shit.

- [Karl] You couldn't stay with me two years ago.

You wouldn't last a week now.

- [Petra] Help me.

- I can't.

I can't help you.

You know why I'm here?

Kurt knows I'm looking for him.

There are people looking for me.

- Don't think about it.

I'll help you find him tomorrow.

You'll see.

I'll get the address tomorrow.

Forget about it for now.

- [Karl] Go and get somebody else to play with.

- I'm just a cunt, right?

And I fucked everybody!

Yet, you enjoyed it.

You always wanted me to give you all the details.

There was nothing I couldn't do

as far as you were concerned.

You'd be like a dog on your knees.

It was almost enough for you just to lick me.

You couldn't get enough.

You used to kiss me, bite me.

You wanted to know how.

(groaning)

They'd feel my legs.

Like,

(moaning)

come on.

(moaning)

Oh, come to me.

(moaning)

I already made love today.

(moaning)

I made you scream.

Alex, your mouth between my legs.

Come on.

Get some more, Alex.

(moaning)

- Don't call me Alex!

(Petra moaning)

Alex Flugal doesn't exist, look at you.

Skin full of drugs.

How long do you think you're gonna live?

A week, huh?

A month?

A year?

A couple of years, maybe?

Petra.

(whimpering)

You're killing yourself.

(whimpering)

(huffing)

- [Petra] Yes, like that.

With your hands.

Gently.

(thudding)

- Good morning, madame.

I brought you your breakfast.

(groaning)

Didn't you sleep well last night?

- On the contrary, I slept very well.

- Will you be staying on?

- No, I'll leave this afternoon.

- [Man] You take too many.

You should've changed hotels days ago, like I told you.

- [Karl] What does it matter?

- [Man] It matters.

Not only for you but for the others.

- You didn't come here to lecture me, did you?

- No, I didn't, I brought you a new passport and some money.

We leave tonight.

- [Karl] Are you alone?

- [Man] My ride's downstairs.

- What kind of expression so you want for the picture?

The stupid young business man with the smell under his nose

or what about the playboy, all balls no brains,

cover in chains?

Or the distant far seen artist?

(motor zooming)

Or the killer?

- The killer?

Forget the killer.

The police have that one already.

- But it's an old picture.

Not up-to-date.

- Luckily for you.

That shirt's no good.

Try this.

(camera snapping)

It's time we took care of Kurt.

We've got to hurry.

He knows too much.

It's dangerous for your to stay here.

You've been here too long already.

- I would've had him, only your directions were no good.

Not one son of a bitch would help me.

Piss artists.

- We have always had reliable people here.

- Not anymore.

Our friends have gone back to the establishment.

Pure, clean and castrated.

(chuckling)

- You are a worrier.

It's just your impression.

- I'm not blind.

We don't exist for them.

We're ghosts without voices.

The only people interested in us are the police.

- You said it.

Now more than ever.

They're afraid of violence

against their repressive organization.

But you will see.

In time to come we'll open everyone's eyes.

And then our isolation will be over.

- Words, words, words, words.

I've heard them all so many times before.

I don't know how you can still

find a way to believe in them.

The truth is, we've pushed out too far

and now we don't know how to get back.

So we carry on, hiding behind our illusions.

David,

don't worry about Kurt.

I'll find him.

- I think you're tired.

(traffic commotion)

- How about the 2:20 flight?

No cancellations.

Are you sure?

Please check again, it's extremely urgent.

Yes, I see.

Well there's nothing you can do about it.

Five o'clock flight.

Okay, thank you.

(ominous beat music)

(Karl yelling)

(Karl yelling)

(Karl yelling)

- I don't know what else to tell you, mother.

I know you'll ask where all my

plans to change the world have gone to

but they're over and done with now.

I'm no longer impatient or afraid.

I wanted to talk to you because

I love you and I know you'll understand.

Tell dad and the others that I'm safe and out of danger.

No more underground activity for me.

As for the rest, don't worry.

You can see I've found my own little ghetto

where I can live happily.

I'm entrusting this tape to a good friend

who is going to Berlin.

He'll mail it to you from there.

Don't worry.

Nobody will be able to trace is back to me.

Goodbye.

(sighing)

(thudding)

(ominous beat music)

(ominous beat music)

(traffic commotion)

(ominous music)

(upbeat music)

- [Narrator] 1933, Nazi dictatorship.

1977, political discrimination and repression.

The first step on the road to dictatorship!

(upbeat music)

Constitutional rights for political prisoners!

No to the return of Nazism!

(train rumbling)

Sieg heil!

(upbeat music)

Citizens unit in the struggle against

political discrimination between

the worker and the fascists!

Sieg heil!

(upbeat music)

(whistle blowing)

(train rumbling)

(whistle blowing)

(police sirens alarming)

- Pascale, you're under arrest.

- Erich!

(laughing)

You frightened me.

- Why were you frightened?

- I got caught up in the demonstration.

- Oh that, there's nothing to worry about.

Just a little counter propaganda.

They're not dangerous.

- [Pascale] You're kidding.

- No, really.

They're just trying to tell us

that our wonderful country is manipulated.

They never give up.

Yesterday evening they projected their slides

among the poor quarters. - Oh?

- You must admit, it wasn't a bad show, really.

Believe me, I'm on 10 thousands marks a month.

- What newspaper are you writing for now?

- A naive question, if you don't mind my saying so.

I write for a whole chain of newspapers.

It controls half the German press.

Wise men decide the causes

but only fools decide the issues.

We assist the fools to form an opinion.

- Whoever wrote that,

I sure didn't intend it that way.

- You're right.

- Would you like anything?

- What would you like to drink?

- Some tea.

- Some tea and my usual.

Thank you, darling.

- [Waitress] Okay.

- Oh, you are a beautiful woman.

Not one phone call for an old friend?

I adore you, Pascale. (laughing)

Tell me about yourself.

- There's nothing to tell.

You know how my life is.

- No, I don't.

Years go by without us seeing each other.

The last time I saw your both was two years ago,

during the summer. (laughing)

- We live like nomads.

Thomas is busier than ever.

I help him with his research whenever I can.

Statistics, mostly.

You know how dedicated he is to his work.

- Any children yet?

- No, no children.

What time we have we intend to devote to each other.

That's the way we want it.

- I seem to hear a note of sadness.

You wouldn't be lying, would you?

- I love Thomas.

I couldn't ask for anything more.

- You're out of fashion.

(laughing)

Intelligent but faithful.

- Tell me,

what do you know about these political groups?

These underground movements.

- Don't tell me you're interested in politics.

Have you become a radical?

(laughing)

- No, traveling around the way we do,

one tends to lose contact with reality

and finally you end up by not belong to any country.

There's so many blanks.

News becomes fragmented.

- I know them all.

Clear thinking visionaries

They've grown out of all this affluent confusion.

They have imagination.

A genius generation.

Difficult to handle.

To understand.

We've destroyed all of them.

Well, almost all of them.

- You?

Are you serious or are you making fun of me?

- You really don't know what's been going on?

Thomas Allstaff,

the voice of revolution.

He died after a hunger strike.

Peter Goodman, he shot himself in the mouth.

Harriet Custler,

she shot herself full of acid

and started her trip out of the window

of the seventh floor apartment.

Ingrid Walfner drowned with her son in the Rhine.

- Did you know Alex Flugal?

- Why do you ask?

- I met him.

He once came to ask Thomas for money

to help the students who had been arrested.

That must have been, I think around '69,

since then I've never heard anything about him.

- At that time, he wasn't a very important character.

His fame came later.

He was one of the first supporters

of the urban guerrilla movement.

Then in 1970, 71, he disappeared.

Some say he still operates from underground,

others maintain he escaped to South America.

For his sake, I hope so.

Because here, slowly, slowly, they're killed or arrested.

- Tell me, did you write sympathetically

about all these things?

- Are you kidding?

I wrote just the opposite.

I defamed them.

I described them as a bunch of paranoids.

Ordinary delinquents.

- I don't believe you.

You're not a cynic.

- Oh, I am.

Oh yes I am.

No more, no less than the others.

And our comfort is the fruit of compromise.

Of cynicism.

I haven't got enough imagination to see myself otherwise.

- Mr. Müller, telephone.

- Okay, I'm coming.

Excuse me, darling, I'll be right back.

(somber piano music)

- Your bill, madame.

- Do you have any messages for me?

- No.

- I said, do you have any messages for me?!

- No, sir.

Please. - That's for you.

- Thank you, madame.

- Oh, did you iron my blouse?

- Yes, madame, I put it in your room.

- Thank you.

(footsteps thumping)

(dramatic saxophone music)

- Karl?

Karl, help me.

(toilet flushing)

- You sure about the address?

Give it to me again.

- Materna Strauss Three,

Stairway B, Apartment 31.

No mistake this time.

I got the right address.

(sighing)

You're making a mistake, Karl.

Don't go.

Don't do it.

They'll catch you.

Karl, don't do it.

- Wait for me at the Blough House, okay?

- Should I have your bags brought down?

- No, it doesn't matter.

I'm not leaving now.

(traffic commotion)

(train rumbling)

(suspenseful beat music)

(distant train horn blowing)

(distant train horn blowing)

(distant train horn blowing)

(gun clicking)

(train rumbling)

(footsteps thumping)

(faint piano music)

- The toilets, please.

- [Man] Over there.

(upbeat piano music)

(whistle blowing)

(people chattering)

- Listen, I'm French.

I just happen to be there by chance.

- Just do as you're told!

- You have no right!

- Shut up!

Now go in there, please.

- Come on, girls, get a move on!

Everybody needs to get undressed.

Enough talking, just do what you're ordered to

and we'll soon be finished.

Oh, your documents?

- You take off your clothes!

Take off your clothes!

- I want to explain to whoever is in charge that I'm French.

- Yeah, yeah, you can do that later.

Now get undressed completely!

Put your things here and don't waste time.

- I just happen to be there.

You don't understand.

- [Woman] You can explain later.

Now be a good girl and get undressed.

- A drug addict.

- With a preference for heroin.

I'll do anything for a little coke and let's not forget,

LSD, mescaline.

In other words,

for everything.

Do you want to know why I shoot up all the time?

I'll tell you why.

It's so everything will look a little better.

- [Woman] Put your clothes on the bench!

- You should try it.

(laughing)

- [Woman] Those too.

Empty out your handbags.

Come on, get on with it.

- Taking drugs helps me not to be like you.

Like this great country of shit.

Germany.

(laughing)

- I don't want to hear about your reasons.

Go on.

- You don't have to get smart.

Everybody,

even this time, you won't be able to keep me in for long.

High class whores have certain privileges.

- Documents?

- No, I left them at the hotel.

- Which hotel?

- The Kleinhoff Hotel.

- Oh, you're not German.

- No, I am French.

My name is Pascale Rota.

I'm married to Thomas Rota, the architect.

I don't see why I should be subject to this!

I have a French passport!

- Have you finished?

We only want to give you a checkup.

Now get undressed.

- I found these.

Would you two come here?

- Political division.

- Go get dressed, come on.

Come on, you two.

Give me your hat.

(laughing)

- [Nurse] Next.

- You!

Go and stand over there!

- Come on, sit down.

- For Christ sake!

This is awful, you can't do this!

- Will you behave yourself?

It's for your own good.

- If you wish, we can hold you here

until your identity can be proven.

Tomorrow you better bring your passport.

- You can try the hotel.

- [Patient] Hey, that hurts!

(screaming)

- Let me out of here!

Let me out!

Let me out of here!

- Stop her!

- Please let me out! - Stop her!

(yelling)

(traffic commotion)

- Well, you've been looking for me, here I am.

I saw you leaving my place.

It might be a good time to talk.

There's much to explain.

- There's nothing to talk about.

- You know fucking well we've got something to talk about!

- I thought you've come to hear me scream.

The way they made Mark and Helen scream.

- You think I was responsible for that?

- You were the only one who knew the address.

That's where you were hiding out, wasn't it?

You could still see the blood on the stairs.

They dragged Mark out by his feet,

bumping him down stairs, step after step,

and Helen will probably spend her life in some institution

or goddamn jail!

She's 18 years old.

- Right, Kurt Whitney sold out.

He was a spy, that's me.

That's what I'm accused of, isn't it?

They picked me up but they had no proof.

The fact is I didn't tell them anything.

You think I talked because I got let out but I didn't talk.

- You're lying.

- I wonder what you would have done in the same situation.

In a white cell with that damn light.

Bit by bit they found out where that house was, my place.

Why did Mark and Helen go back there?

You all knew I had been caught by the police, didn't you?

- [Karl] They both took a chance.

- Their own stupidity.

Not mine.

- So how is it they let you go?

You got friends in the police?

- Sure I have.

They let me go because

my lack of vocabulary was boring them.

Better to have me free.

That way they could lead me straight to the rest of you.

They're using me as a bait to find the rest of you.

Don't worry, I've lost them already.

I suppose the fact that I disappeared was for you guys

the final proof of my guilt.

That's right, isn't it?

You were all so quick to find me guilty.

At last you've agreed on something.

The prophets of the group were ecstatic.

I finally betrayed you.

It was so simple, huh?

You're so emotional, you're blind.

You miss the obvious.

Don't any of you realize your little group

is fast going out of date?

- You're afraid.

You've only come here to justify what you did.

- [Kurt] No I didn't.

I didn't come here to justify anything.

There's nothing I have to justify.

I came here because I wanted to talk with you,

to explain to Karl, to my friend.

Because we used to be friends once.

That's something I still believe in.

(gun clicking)

- You're trying to set me up, aren't you?

Get out of here, Kurt.

Go on, get out!

- Well I'm sorry you haven't understood.

I've already judged myself for you.

But not for what you accuse me of.

For something more serious.

Because, now you see, you're my enemies.

I despise you.

I end up destroying everything I ever believed in.

My hopes for a better world.

My life doesn't mean anything after this confrontation.

I'm waiting for you.

You know where I'll be.

(crying)

(groaning)

(sobbing)

(Karl sobbing)

- Huh?

What do you want?

- I was there too.

In the nightclub.

- Huh?

- When the police arrived.

They took us away together,

your girlfriend and I.

I saw you down in the lobby last night.

They kept her down at the police station.

I was lucky they didn't find anything on me.

They think they can do just anything they want.

They're all the same.

- Why are you telling me this?

- I wanted to warn you.

- To warn me?

- Yes, about your girlfriend.

- Ah.

Sit down.

On the bed!

- It's just like my room.

I must leave.

- Why, are you afraid?

- No, I just thought you might wanna be alone.

- Perhaps.

- Well, I'll leave then.

- Here.

Take it.

Sit down.

My head.

Oh, my head.

(groaning)

My head is splitting open.

(groaning)

- Can I help you?

Can't you tell me what's the matter?

- What is this, an interrogation?

You're from the police, aren't you?

- I have the room next to yours.

My name is Pascale.

- Oh yeah, the room next to mine

and your name is Pascale.

- Open the door.

- No.

- Then say something.

Don't look at me that way.

Talk.

- What do you want me to do, tell you my life?

Do you really want to hear about my life?

Then I'd have to kill you.

- Say whatever you want or let me leave.

- You are from the police, aren't you?

- You're beginning to bore me.

- Get undressed.

I need a little entertainment.

Something to pass the time.

Hurry up!

Otherwise you won't get out of here alive.

I'm not joking.

Are you embarrassed?

That's more like it.

When your friends turn up, you can help them arrest me.

You live in Paris, huh?

- Yes.

- Huh?

1812.

(speaking French)

Drink.

You know the

Comme Yelle?

You know it?

Sing it.

Can't you sing?

Comme Yelle?

You know the Comme Yelle?

- I don't know how to sing.

(traffic commotion)

(distant police sirens)

(crying)

(sighing)

- 1812

(speaking French)

It's easy.

It goes.

(singing tune)

(crying)

- Let me go.

Please.

(crying)

- What's the matter?

- Why are you treating me like this?

- Are you frightened?

- No, I'm not frightened.

I'm drunk.

I'm gonna throw up.

I'm sorry.

(sensual saxophone music)

(moaning)

(huffing)

(moaning)

(moaning)

(gasping)

(sensual saxophone music)

(huffing)

Good morning.

I hope I didn't wake you.

I tried to be quiet but I just had to move.

If you get dressed we can have lunch out.

There's a restaurant near here.

You'll like it.

It's nice, there aren't many people.

I have to put some makeup on

but I really don't feel like going back to my room.

I feel like going outside

and taking a walk with you

and knowing what you think.

Is there something in common we have.

(knocking)

Just a moment.

- Come in.

(moaning)

- Put it there, on the table.

- Okay.

- Leave it.

Don't touch anything.

Leave it the way it is.

And close the door.

- Don't touch the curtains.

- Why?

- Because the curtains have to stay closed.

- I'm suffocating and I need some light.

I just wanted to open the window.

- So you can feel nice and clean, fresh again?

I like the shadow because as everyone knows,

a dead rat hides in my heart.

The rat dies, the rat is hounded

and the world is dead in my hands

and the old candle goes out.

Who am I?

I'm Pascale in bed with Karl.

- You're not the only one in this room.

- No, the lady who found a fuck last night is here.

- Last night?

- Last night.

You were just a whore.

- Then why didn't you call me that last night

instead of crying like a baby?

(Karl chuckling)

- I was embarrassed to look at you.

You were scared of being alone

and now you're playing the fool.

- So the idle has come to an end before breakfast.

Pascale has pronounced her truths.

The fire of passion has gone out

and the experience has come to an end.

- Why don't you find a publisher for your beautiful face?

(glass shattering)

(gasping)

(suspenseful music)

(whimpering)

(sensual saxophone music)

- Concierge?

- What can I do for you?

- We'd like to speak to Mrs. Rota.

- Who may I ask wants to?

- Police.

(phone buzzing)

(huffing)

(moaning)

(huffing)

- [Concierge] If you'd like to follow me.

(knocking)

- Madame?

(huffing)

(knocking)

- Who is it?

- [Maid] The maid.

- What do you want?

What do you want?!

- [Maid] Well I'm looking for Mrs. Rota.

There are policemen here who would like to talk to her.

- It's for my passport.

- [Maid] They want to see your passport.

- They just want my passport.

(gasping)

No, wait.

Give me your shirt.

(knocking)

Just a moment, please.

- [Karl] Listen, bitch, if that's a trap, I'll kill you!

- [Maid] Madame?

Madame?

- They said something about not having your passport

at the police station yesterday.

It's just a formality, madame.

Here.

(knocking)

(sighing)

(traffic commotion)

- [Karl] Tell me something, will you?

I'm bored.

- I've never had much imagination.

Not even at school.

I never was very good at starting conversations.

I never really had to.

Oh, let's see.

What can I tell you?

Let's play a game.

Tell me, what's written near the mirror

on the wall of the bathroom.

- I don't know, there's something written.

There's a date, isn't there?

- Yes but what date?

- June, I don't know.

- No.

October 1957.

And now, tell me what the color of the lampshade is.

- Blue.

- Come on, no, wrong.

It's green and beige.

And the color of my skirt?

- Brown.

- Yes.

- You like to play games, do you?

Well tell me which hand's got the bullet

that's going to kill you.

What if they come in now?

What if the police came in now?

What would you do?

- I'd protect you.

- You? You'd protect me? - Yes!

- No, I'd protect you.

You can kill me but don't kill my love.

(laughing)

(groaning)

I've been hit.

Pascale.

(groaning)

- Karl.

- Stop, for Christ sake, I'm bored.

Tell me a story, anything.

(groaning)

Tell me about your mother.

Tell me something, anything.

- Tonight I had a dream.

You and I were together but not all alone.

Someone said that if you went out, they'd kill you.

You were frightened because I didn't answer you.

Yet you went all the same.

Then a man arrived who was to kill you

when the light went on.

We were both walking beside you

and there was another girl with us.

Then I said that while you were still alive,

"You should take the girl with you.

"Take her into your room and do anything you like with her."

That girl was me.

Suddenly that man came back and said the woman had arrived.

He switched on the light

and then when I put my hand on my throat,

it was wet and sticky with blood.

Karl, let's get away from here.

Somewhere you'd see

this is the only place I don't get tired of.

Two traveling companions

with very little in common.

Only the need to forget the past.

Everything else

just depends on us.

What we know and what we learn to do.

We can help each other.

I'll be good to you.

I won't ask for anything from you.

We won't need too much.

We'll live simply,

day by day like everybody else.

It all would come for sure.

I'll give you my life.

My love.

What're you doing?

- I have to go.

- Where?

- Where they're waiting for me.

- Who's waiting for you?

- Kurt.

- Nobody's waiting for you!

- Don't you understand?

He's waiting for me!

- Nobody is waiting!

Nobody will come!

Neither Kurt nor anyone.

- Then I'll come.

- No! Nobody will come!

I'm sure.

I'm frightened.

I don't wanna go back.

I don't wanna go back.

I don't wanna die, I wanna live.

- Sure, I'll take you with me.

- That light!

Turn out that light!

That light is killing me!

Help me, please.

Help me.

(huffing)

I'm not too young to start again.

- Yes, I'll help you.

- We could start again together, couldn't we?

You said we could, you said it.

- Yes.

- It'd be easy.

How long would it take us to get away from here?

In only a few hours we could be far away from here.

That's what I've always wanted is to get away, far away!

Far away from here!

Just the two of us!

Just go away!

So we can live where nobody knows us.

Just the two of us together.

- We will.

Don't worry, I'm here, Carl.

I'm here.

- Call me Alex.

Alex, that's my name.

Call me Alex.

Call me Alex.

My name's Alex.

(sensual saxophone music)

(moaning)

(moaning)

(moaning)

My love.

(moaning)

- [Radio Reporter] Ever since the brazen daylight kidnapping

and the subsequent assassination

of former Premier Aldo Moro last spring.

Italian investigators have been intrigued

by indications that there may have been

a West German connection to the crime.

Some eye witnesses reported that they thought

they heard German spoken at the scene of the abduction.

Police also noted that the manner

in which the kidnapping was staged

and the precision execution of Moro's five bodyguards

were curiously similar in style

to the kidnapping six months early

of German industrialist Hanns Martin Schleyer in Cologne.

Now Italian officials report that they have found

more evidence of links between

Italy's terrorist Red Brigades

and West German's more sophisticated Red Army faction.

Among the clues were detailed expense notations

found in a Red Brigade's hideout in Rome

that police say was used by the Moro hit team.

The notes refer to airline flights made to Vienna

and four German cities

by someone using the code name Fritz.

Two West German automobile license plates

found in the same hideout

were not listed as stolen in either West Germany or Italy

and thus, presumably, were taken directly to Rome.

West German police tend to believe

that they were close to making a connection

between the Schleyer and Moro case

and had the Red Brigade under close surveillance.

They are believed to be close to making an arrest

of two members of the Red Brigade.

Following the return of two investigating magistrates

who crosschecked their evidence in West Germany,

Italian authorities now believe that the accumulated clues

indicate the direct participation

or at least the active support

of German organizations in the Moro affair

The Italians are working on the hypothesis

that the 10 to 12 men hit team that abducted Moro

may have been composed of outsiders,

possibly including Germans,

who then passed the politician to a second group,

probably Italians.

A third group is thought to have issued

the regular communicates

stating the terms of Moro's release.

We return you now to our regular programing.

(pleasant radio guitar music)

(pleasant radio guitar music)

(pleasant radio guitar music)

(doorknob jiggling)

(dramatic saxophone music)

(dramatic saxophone music)

(suspenseful music)

(dramatic saxophone music)