Original subtitles

Twelve Rue de la Pique was still the

same.

Nothing had changed in ten years.

Except maybe it was a different canary.

And Monsieur Verret's old auto remained as immobile

as its owner.

Old Paris was still old Paris.

Madame Verret couldn't be out shopping.

It was the wrong time.

And she never kept anybody waiting, not even

her pig of a husband.

Keep running, mon chéri.

Like in the old song, Run, rabbits, run.

My visit wasn't entirely sentimental.

I decided I'd waited long enough, about four

minutes to be exact.

So things had changed at my old lodgings

after all.

Monsieur?

Madame Verret.

Monsieur Bobby.

So you were in.

Oh, but of course, I'm always here.

I'd given you up for lost.

Hey, you look terrific.

You haven't changed at all.

Oh, and you're still a flatterer.

Oh, but you have.

Oh, yes, you look different.

So much style.

So chic, so elegant.

Are you rich?

You must be.

Come in, come in.

Oh, my goodness, after all this time.

You must excuse the mess.

Mess?

It's as spick and span as ever.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Not if you look carefully.

I'm not so house proud as I used

to be.

I let things slide.

You first, monsieur.

Oh, no, madame.

After you, please.

Ah, still the perfect gentleman.

Well, if you insist.

Well, how many years is it since you

were staying here?

Must be 10 years at least.

Yes, I think it was in 1944.

That's right.

I was here right after the liberation.

That's right.

After the Germans, we had you Americans.

Oh, how much nicer.

Yes, yes, yes.

Much nicer, much better.

Oh, yes, my husband died two years ago.

Poor Jack.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm not.

A heart attack.

Oh, I remember he had to avoid any

sudden disturbance, didn't he?

That was why he always sat just here,

wasn't it?

Yes, that was his chair.

His sacred chair.

What a man.

I guess he was resting on his laurels,

as they say, as a hero of the

resistance.

You're very clever, Bobby.

But then you always were.

I think you saw more than any of

my other lotteries.

Did I?

Oh, I think so.

Well.

Natalie.

Oh, it's you, Monsieur Simpson.

You want to leave the door?

I'm a latch man.

Natalie.

It's alright, mon chéri.

It's only a young American.

Wow, you really are concerned for security, ma

'am.

Come in.

You could save yourself a lot of trouble

if you allowed me a key, you know.

I have no say in the matter, Monsieur.

You don't?

My husband is...

Excuse me, Monsieur.

Who did you think it was?

The Gestapo?

But they have gone, mon chéri.

They're gone.

Yes, Jack was very security conscious.

Afterwards, he became obsessed with time.

Afterwards?

Oh, but he had nothing else to do.

After what?

Oh, I think he was still here when

the man came for him that night.

But you must have been asleep.

Oh, yes.

Natalie.

Who is it?

It is only me, mademoiselle.

Danielle, from number 14.

Mama, it's here.

Vas-tu en en Danielle, ou?

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Madame.

Madame!

But the next day he was back.

And he never left the house again.

I remember that beret he always wore.

He was afraid of giraffes, I think.

But not afraid of giving orders, was he?

Oh no.

As I recall, you had to do everything

for him.

Clean the rooms, cook, get his slippers, pipe,

brandy.

I never had a moment to myself.

I don't know how you stood it.

Oh, that's a long storey.

Jacques had his qualities.

There was a time when we were very

close.

Have you never loved and hated anyone, Monsieur

Bobby?

I have.

Real love and real hate.

Nathalie!

Nathalie!

Just a second, mon chéri.

You should have finished the stairs by now.

Nathalie, your time is up.

Morning, madame.

Oh, mind the duster.

Nathalie!

You OK?

Nathalie!

Monsieur Verret sounds urgent.

Well, he always does.

He's obsessed with time.

Because he has nothing else to do.

Oh.

Tell me, monsieur, will you be in for

dinner?

Oh, I don't think so.

I guess I'll be on duty at HQ

tonight.

Our generals are dining with your general de

Gaulle.

Now, there's a man.

De Gaulle, I mean.

Excuse me, monsieur.

Good day, madame.

What kept you, woman?

I was talking to our laudry, monsieur Simpson.

He's a very nice boy.

He's interpreter at army headquarters.

Tonight he's meeting General de Gaulle.

Hmm.

I thought that would touch a nerve.

I need my pipe.

Oh, that makes you cough.

And you know that puts a strain on

your heart.

There's nothing wrong with my heart.

Oh, Jacques.

Even though you can't go out, you should

take some exercise.

What for?

It's time you went shopping.

You're already late.

Wasting the day chatting to Americans.

You really mothered me, you know.

Home from home, that's what it was.

Tell me about this book you're writing.

Oh, that's partly why I called.

It's a history of the resistance.

Oh.

Monsieur Varet was with the resistance, wasn't he?

I had hoped to talk to him about

his experiences.

I've already come across his name a couple

of times during my researches.

What did they say?

Oh, not much.

Just a name along with other names.

Ah, I see.

And, of course, I only knew him after

his active days were over.

I wondered if he might have helped me.

Nathalie!

Nathalie!

There he goes again.

I have another minute.

He only wants his pipe.

Poor Jacques.

Why does he bully you so?

He's unhappy.

Why?

Oh, because...

I'd better run.

Nathalie!

Oh, one day I'll make him run.

You'll see.

It's heavy.

Open it.

You know what they say.

Every French peasant has some gold Napoleons hidden

away somewhere.

Well, Jacques was a peasant at heart.

Wow.

Oh, no.

You may have them, Monsieur Bobby.

No, they're yours.

This is blood money.

I will not touch them.

Please, take them.

Give them away to a charity.

Please, I beg you.

Blood money?

Good.

On time.

Cognac.

Jacques, let me finish the...

Cognac, woman!

You pour.

Oh, surely you...

Pour!

Filthy.

This glass is filthy!

You pig!

Forgive me.

Oh, no.

Forgive me.

One moment.

See who it is, quick.

I'm sorry, I forgot my briefcase.

It doesn't matter.

Are you all right?

Yes, yes, I'm fine.

Excuse me.

Who was it?

Monsieur Simpson.

You forgot something.

I still need my cognac.

Oh, Jacques, it's too early.

You know you drank too much, as it

is.

Don't tell me what to do or not

do.

Get me another glass, and a clean one

this time.

No.

No, it's too early, and I must finish

to clean this room.

Do as I tell you!

How dare you!

Madame Viret, are you all right?

Who said you'd come in here?

Get out!

Get out!

This is between us.

Monsieur Viret, I don't want to...

Get out, I...

Jacques!

Oh, Monsieur Barbie, please.

Sit quiet.

No, you shouldn't get excited.

You lose your temper once too often, you

know.

All right, monsieur?

Yes, yes, just get out.

Is there anything I can do, madame?

Maybe I should call a doctor.

No.

No, no.

You'll be all right, Monsieur Viret, won't you?

Yes.

Yes, just don't fuss.

You know, I think a little drop of

cognac might do you good after all.

Madame, if you'll excuse me.

Oh, yes, yes.

Thank you, mrs.

Thank you.

Very kind.

Oh.

And that's not all.

After they shaved him, they branded him.

There.

With the swastika.

But why?

I mean, he was...

Oh, yes.

He was a good worker for the resistance

for two years.

And then one evening, he went to the

Gestapo.

After that, he led a double life.

One by one, he betrayed all his comrades.

But, madame Viret, you still haven't told me

why.

Well, for several reasons.

First, he thought that the resistance was futile.

That the Germans had won the war and

were here to stay.

Then they offered him so much money.

And, uh, did you...

Were you aware?

Yes.

It's a very awkward question to ask.

No.

All this time, I thought Jacques was a

good and loyal Frenchman.

He deceived me, too.

Completely.

So when did you find out?

One night, when the little girl rang the

doorbell late.

They took him to the courtyard of the

Palais de Justice.

And they shaved him in public.

And then they branded him in public.

Then they drove him to the Bois de

Boulogne.

There was a special tree there, where the

Gestapo used to tie the resistance boys before

shooting them.

They took him to that tree, stood in

front of him with a machine gun.

But then an American military police patrol arrived.

They said that to shoot Jacques like this

was illegal.

Sometimes you Americans have a very schoolboy sense

of honour.

Well, Jacques was saved.

He came home and never left again.

They must have forgotten him.

I don't know why.

God knows they pursued and tried every other

traitor.

I see.

And the beret covered his head while his

hair grew.

Except where he was branded, of course.

I told you, hair never grows over a

scar.

I wish they had shot me.

Go out and they will.

Where were you?

Taking up Monsieur Bobby's breakfast.

Oh, it's Monsieur Bobby now, is it?

I like him.

He's harmless.

Has he asked you any questions about me?

Yes.

But don't worry, your secret is safe.

Quite safe.

I don't like your Monsieur Bobby.

I don't trust him at all.

I was afraid for you.

That's why I asked you to leave.

Oh, you look so hurt.

But I couldn't explain it to you.

After you left, he grew fat.

And bullied me even more.

Oh, but now I'm so much happier.

Now that he's dead, I can do as

I please.

So, you're a famous author now.

Well, I wouldn't say that exactly.

Oh, yes, you are.

You're too modest.

I know you are.

Do you still take in lodgers?

Oh, no.

No, no, no, no.

After I killed Jack, I invested his insurance

in an annuity.

That isn't much, but it's enough.

I never touched this money.

Did you say killed?

Yes.

Oh, I know that God has forgiven me

already.

But...

Monsieur Bobby, you as an author will understand.

Writers understand everything about the human heart.

Oh, it was simple.

Oh, I just let him sit there.

I let him eat and drink and get

fatter.

Until one day, oh, I knew this would

kill him.

I started to laugh at him.

He asked for his pipe, and I laughed.

He asked for his cognac, and I laughed.

He asked for a newspaper, and I laughed

until he stood up to strike me and...

Fell dead at my feet with a heart

attack.

Oh, I know I'm not to blame.

But all the same, I killed him deliberately.

Oh, yes, I did.

I see.

I still think you put it rather strongly.

You did have cause, but I...

Monsieur Bobby, don't find excuses for me.

I knew what I was doing, and I

enjoyed it.

I enjoyed it as much as having Jacques

cremated.

Excuse me.

You're not going to answer the door?

Oh, yes, I will, in a minute.

Well, in four minutes, to be precise.

Like you kept me waiting.

Yes, I'm sorry.

But having hurried so much for Jacques, I

don't hurry for anyone now.

They think I don't hear that bell.

Oh, but I do.

It's loud enough to wake up the dead,

isn't it?

Even those who have been cremated.

Meanwhile, I just let him run.

Oh, that isn't sand, you know.

Poor Jacques.