All language subtitles for S01E24 - The Perfect Murder.en

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Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen...

and welcome to Hollywood.

I think everyone enjoys
a nice murder...

provided he is not the victim.

Tonight's little comedy
of bad manners is concerned...

with that dream of all of us
who harbor homicidal tendencies:

The perfect murder.

Of course,
to be serious for a moment...

there is no such thing
as a nice murder...

or a perfect murder.

It is always a sordid,
despicable business.

Especially if you don't
have a good lawyer.

We had gathered to hear the
lawyer read my uncle's will.

Ernestine was present.

She had cooked for my aunt and
uncle as long as I can remember.

There was my wife, Marie...

and myself...

my brother, Paul...

and there was Aunt Rosalie.

"I leave my entire estate to my dear
and devoted wife, Rosalie Tallendier.

"She knows my wishes concerning certain
bequests I wish to make to our church.

"To the convent of St. Anne, I
bequeath the sum of 3,000 francs.

"And to my cook, Ernestine,
I give 1,000 francs.

"Upon the death of my wife, the
income from my estate shall be..."

Excuse me.

"...the income from my estate shall be
divided equally between my two nephews...

"Paul and Henri Tallendier."

How's that, pretty lady?

Be quiet, you pest.

We're gonna be rich. Don't
you understand, Henri? Rich.

How much do you think
we shall have?

50,000 francs at least.
Apiece?

Of course, apiece.

Uncle Jean had that much?

That tight-fisted old pig
saved every penny.

Paul.

Why do you say "Paul"? You oughtn't
to speak of the dead like that.

Forgive me. I forgot you had
such delicate feelings.

It was very kind of him
to remember us at all.

After all, we weren't
very good to the old man.

You depress me.
This is a time for rejoicing.

When the old lady dies, it will
all be ours, don't you understand?

Yours and mine.

Too late for me, Paul.

Now what does that mean?
I'm at the end of my rope.

We're swamped with bills,
Marie and I. We owe everybody.

Our creditors won't wait.
Yesterday the landlord said-

You want to borrow money
again, is that it?

Well, you have
only yourself to look after.

I've got my wife,
four little ones.

Portrait of
the happy married man.

Well, here's 50 francs,
and that's all.

I'm down to my last sou
myself. Don't ask me again.

Thank you, Paul.

Don't worry. I'll get it back
when you get your inheritance.

Why don't we drink
to our Aunt Rosalie?

To wish the dear old lady...

Godspeed into the next world.

You don't drink to that?

No, I don't.

Yes, yes, yes.

I've heard the same story
for as long as I've known you.

What do you do
with all your money?

My job doesn't pay enough.

Get another.
I've tried.

You're lazy. I work
from morning till night.

There are four little ones
at home.

That's none of my affair.
That's all I have to say to you.

Aunt Rosalie, I only want to borrow
a little money, on my inheritance.

Your inheritance.
So that's it.

You wish me dead.
No, no.

You dream of me lying in my
coffin. I can see it in your eyes.

You're just waiting.

Well, you will have
a long time waiting, nephew.

You're heartless, Aunt
Rosalie. But strong as an ox.

I shall outlive both my nephews.
I am determined to do that.

And the convent
will get my money.

Not you, nor your wife
nor your children.

Now, get out. Do you hear?

What a coincidence.
You, too.

Am I to be plagued to
my grave by both of you?

I just came to see how you
were feeling, Aunt Rosalie.

As if you care.

Well,
I have a mild interest.

My life
doesn't interest you.

But my death. That is
worth a fortune to you.

That interests you.

My dear aunt,
you're a hard one.

And you, dear nephew,
are so tender-hearted.

That's right.
That makes two of a kind.

That's better.
We understand one another.

As for my health-
Yes?

It's excellent,
unfortunately for you.

Now what do you want?
Money?

I've got plenty of money,
thank you.

What a liar you are.

You probably haven't more than
two sous in your pocket right now.

Less. How's that, pretty lady? How's that?

Be quiet,
you silly bird.

How do you live?

Why don't you get a job?
I can't keep a job.

Well, you'll get no sympathy
from me. Good day.

I'm not very well.

My dizziness keeps coming back.
That's why I can't keep a job.

What dizziness?

The doctor calls it
anemia.

You gad about too much
and don't eat enough.

I ought to have someone
to look after me.

Maybe so.

But you've come to the wrong
house. Now you get out, too.

Very well.

Aunt Rosalie.

What's the matter with you?

Ernestine.

Ernestine!

Mon Dieu, is he dead?

Turn him over, idiot,
turn him over.

Poor boy. How pale he looks.
I'll get Dr. Poncet.

Never mind.

It's only a dizzy spell.
It'll pass.

Loosen his collar
and let him rest there.

The scoundrel's grown thin.

Poor boy, madame.
He needs looking after.

Madame, if he were here in the
house, you could look after him.

After all,
he's your nephew.

If you've nothing
brighter to say...

go back to your pots and pans.

But, madame, if Monsieur Paul
were here, you'd have company.

You wouldn't be so lonely.

Who knows?
Perhaps that's true.

Well, there's no harm in letting
him stay the night, anyway.

Give him a good dinner.
Yes, I'll do that.

Paul remained with
Aunt Rosalie for weeks.

She seemed to enjoy
his company.

She even seemed delighted
by his audacity.

And the weeks stretched
into months.

He had nothing
to worry about now.

He was taken care of.

He could wait.

Good morning,
my little pudding.

Monsieur Paul,
it's a lovely day.

Where is my aunt? She's in
the garden with Dr. Poncet.

She's sunning herself.

She certainly takes good
care of herself, doesn't she?

And that pleases you,
I know.

Immensely.

That looks good.

Mmm. By the way, what are
we having for dinner tonight?

What does
your heart desire?

Well...

It's such a pleasure to be able
to cook with enthusiasm again.

My talents are wasted on
your aunt's meager diet.

Always the same. Fish or
souffl�, day after day.

Fish Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.
Eggs Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

What do I care?

I eat so well, I should think my
Aunt Rosalie would die of envy...

if nothing else.

Well, I look forward
to luncheon.

Remarkable. The pulse
of a girl of 20.

I think, your nephew has an excellent
effect on your health, Madame Tallendier.

He's a rascal.

And I don't trust him
from here to there.

Besides, he eats me
out of house and home.

But he plays
a good game of dominoes.

Good morning, Dr. Poncet.
Good morning, Aunt Rosalie.

Don't we look wonderful
this morning.

Liar. I ache and creak
in every bone.

Here, here.
What have we here?

Cover up, cover up.

Now there's a devoted nephew
for you.

We got to keep you
nice and cozy, don't we?

Stop fussing.

But he obviously likes
taking care of you.

You just run along, Dr. Poncet. Very well.

Goodbye, Madame Tallendier.
Goodbye.

Goodbye, Paul.
Goodbye, Dr. Poncet.

He thinks I'm going to leave
him something when I die.

But I won't. Not a cent.

You're a mean old buzzard,
aren't you?

And you? You're just a vulture
waiting to close in. You don't fool me.

Well, we'll go for a little
walk. Come, haul me up.

What if I were to let you
fall now? What do you mean?

You'd fall now and crack
your skull, wouldn't you?

Pull me up, Paul!
Pull me up.

Stop playing, Paul.
I'm slipping!

I wouldn't let you go for anything
in the world, don't you know that?

What a rascal you are.

Henri.

What on earth are you doing
in this house at this hour?

I need money, I'm desperate.

I'm going to pawn
this silver frame.

How dare you?

Have you forgotten
that I'm a guest here?

What fine sentiments
you've developed, brother.

You can afford them,
now you're eating well.

Now listen to me.

Unless the laws of nature
have been repealed...

she can't go on like this
much longer, now, can she?

She seems to be.
Will you listen to reason?

Only today, she complained
of a pain in the back.

Paul, I cannot wait
any longer.

What do you want me
to do? Kill her?

I don't deny that I haven't
thought of it before.

I get so bored
in this house.

Waiting, waiting.

And she gets healthier
every day.

I'm feel like I'm trapped.

Man has the right
to help nature along.

I mean if it gets stubborn,
don't you think?

What do you mean? Away with
all obstacles. Let life move on.

I'm only saying
she's had enough.

It's our turn now.
Yes.

This is no place to talk.

Now if you can scrape
together a few sous...

we can meet tomorrow morning at the
Cafe Marais and talk things over.

I'll manage. Let's say
tomorrow morning at 11:00.

At 11:00.

Henri,
just smell that honeysuckle.

Look. There's a blossom.

It's withered.

I despise decaying things,
don't you?

Good night, Henri.

Paul, we are here
to talk serious business.

Don't ruffle
your feathers.

Just being in a cafe again
gives me hope.

Now what dreary subject
were we talking about?

Oh, yes.
My indestructible aunt.

There goes that delightful
Mademoiselle de Chenier.

Paul. Paul.

How are we going to get rid
of Aunt Rosalie?

With dispatch.
Yes. But, by what means?

Well, there are all sorts of
methods. The open window, for example.

Push her out?

How crude you are. No.

A cold draft...

properly placed when a person's
sleeping can do wonders.

All sorts of lovely
complications can develop...

like influenza, pneumonia.

Yes.
That's an excellent idea.

But she might recover.

Doctors are very efficient
these days. It's most annoying.

Suppose Aunt Rosalie were
to slip and break her neck.

Just a little. A fall down the
stairs, doesn't that appeal to you?

I don't know.

But, you know, she might
regain consciousness and tell.

That wouldn't do, would it?
We can't have-

Be quiet, Paul!

Come on,
let's get out of here.

The best approach
may be the gastronomical one.

How do you mean?

The way to our heart's desire may
be through Aunt Rosalie's stomach.

You mean
to poison her food?

You talk like
some medieval murderer.

But that is what you meant.
I know it is.

Poison, who said anything
about poison? I didn't, did I?

No.

Ground glass.

Finely ground, to a powder.

You don't have to use Baccarat,
any ordinary wine glass would do.

Now, sometime this morning,
when your wife is out-

I am to do this?

Brother, you must
contribute something.

This is a mutual enterprise,
for the benefit of us both.

Paul, I'm frightened.

Now, Henri, you run along
and commit your little deed...

and I shall be
waiting for you here.

Well, hurry.

Henri. Finely ground.

Peppery.

This is the life
I was born to lead.

I feel it in my bones.
I read it in the stars.

No, my good man. Leave
the bottle here. Oh, no.

My aunt will pay for it
in her good time.

Not that she has much time.

Henri, my dear brother.
Come.

Let us celebrate our future.
Rejoice, rejoice.

Paul, you're drunk.

You idiot, you're frightened
of your own shadow.

All right, all right,
but look.

The ingredient.

The ingredient?
The ingredient.

With which
to season the souffl�.

Yes. Last night
she had fish.

Tonight,
she'll have souffl�...

with this added ingredient.

It will be an ambrosia,
fit for the angels.

And when
Aunt Rosalie tastes it...

she'll become one of them.

For heaven's sake, Paul, be quiet! Quiet.

I will not, of course,
be home for dinner.

At breakfast,
or possibly before...

Ernestine...

will bring me
the good news.

You'll let me know
at once.

At once.
Let you know what?

That everything
has gone well.

I'll telephone you here...

tomorrow morning
at 10 o'clock.

Thank you, Paul.

And for your help...

I thank you.

Have you seen my nephew?

Perhaps he went
for a walk.

To work up an appetite
for lunch, you mean?

He ordered duck.

What has his majesty
commanded for dinner?

He won't be here
for dinner tonight.

He has to see someone
about a job.

Which he is certain
not to get.

Madame...

tonight, you will have to eat your
dinner alone, as in the old days.

But for lunch, I want you to be very jolly.

I have a nice bottle of wine.
He'll guzzle it down, that oaf.

But, madame, you must admit, it's been
lively since Monsieur Paul came here.

And you, look at you,
you're blooming.

Blooming.
Like the century plant.

And that dress.

You haven't worn that dress since
the wedding of the mayor's daughter.

Why shouldn't I wear it?
The mourning period's over.

I'm sure he'll like you
in that dress, too, madame.

You're a fool, Ernestine.

Perhaps I am one, too.

No more, Paul, no more. Come
now, wine is good for the blood.

Dr. Poncet said
only half a glass.

I'm dizzy.
It won't hurt you. Please.

Well, just a little, this makes
my third, or is it my fourth glass?

Two, my dear, two.

Well, then pour on.

You know, there'll be a
surprise for your dinner tonight.

A surprise? What is it?

It has a new name. It's
called "Souffl� � la glace. "

Souffl� � la glace.

Will it taste any different with
a new name? No, I'm afraid not.

That same old egg dish,
you mean.

I wouldn't dream of upsetting
the Queen's menu?

How's that, pretty lady?

I think I'll go
and take a nap.

Hold fast, old girl.
Hold fast.

Sweet dreams, my love.

My love.

So, it's you, all spruced up,
and your poor aunt sick.

You were very naughty
giving her so much wine.

She'll survive the wine.
Nothing like that would kill her.

Ernestine!

Ernestine! My smelling salts.

I'm coming.

Now you know Dr. Poncet wouldn't
approve of your drinking so much wine.

Get out.

Look at you,
fit as a fiddle.

I feel terrible.

It will pass.
Soon you'll feel nothing.

I'm sorry that you have
to have dinner alone.

Run along, run along.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Goodbye...

Aunt Rosalie.

How can I describe
that agony of waiting?

I thought I'd go mad.

Paul said he would telephone me
at 10.:00 to give me the good news.

Ten o'clock came and it went,
and 11 o'clock.

By noon, I was frantic.

But then suddenly...

Telephone, monsieur.

Hello? Yes, yes.

What?

Yes, I'll be there right away.

Yes. Immediately.

How can I explain it to you?

Yesterday, your aunt
was ill all afternoon.

She had drunk too much wine.

Well, at dinner time, I said
that it was an egg night.

She flew into a rage, she
insisted that it was a fish night.

I had to put
the egg mixture away.

Naturally, I couldn't waste
it. I never throw out anything.

It was no use to argue with her,
so I fried her a little fish.

Isn't that so, madame?

I shouldn't have drunk all that
wine, but the dear boy insisted.

After her dinner,
madame went straight to bed.

We didn't hear
Monsieur Paul come in at all.

In the morning, she whipped up
those eggs into an omelet for him.

I was still upstairs in bed.

He ate heartily,
he always did.

But in a little while-
Don't tell me any more.

He died in agony, poor dear.

His last words were "omelette �
la glace. " It was a joke we had.

Paul did complain
of dizzy spells...

but I never
took it seriously.

We're waiting for Dr. Poncet to
tell us the exact cause of death.

You are my sole heir now,
Henri.

Everything will go to you.

You're all the family I have left.
We must try to be closer, Henri.

This must have been a terrible shock
for you. You look quite worn out.

Ernestine, get the dear boy
something to eat.

Something light,
an omelet, perhaps.

No! No!

I always said
he was an odd one.

So different
from his dear brother.

As for the eventual outcome
of tonight's crime...

the case
was later re-opened...

and Henri, arrested and convicted of
violating The Pure Food and Drug Act.

He had used
an inferior grade of glass.

We shall have our next
performance of another play...

one week from tonight.

Oh, yes. Normally,
I detest sentimentality.

But I must leave you with this
little thought for the day:

Never turn your back
on a friend.

Good night.

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