The Murderer Lives at Number 21 (1942) - full transcript

Dapper Inspector Vorobechik ('Wens' for short) is assigned the case of a serial killer who leaves a calling card on his victims; Monsieur Durand. Wens' mistress, struggling actress Mila Malou, determines to get publicity for herself by helping him. Learning that Durand is one of the eccentric tenants of a boarding house at No. 21 Avenue Junot, Wens takes a room in the guise of a Protestant minister; only to be followed by Mila who hardly seems like a minister's wife! Suspects are arrested, but while each is in jail, there's another murder...

THE MURDERER LIVES...

AT 21

- Cheers. Here's to the barman!
- Thank you, sir.

Ernest, the door!

It wasn't me. I've got my hands full.
It must have opened by itself.

We should fix that.

It's not good to drink, as a rule.
It makes you drunk and sick.

But sometimes you've got to drink.

It makes you happy
and cleans the kidneys.

Especially muscadet.

- Am I right?
- Sure.



Even if I was wrong,
I'd be right today,

just this once.

Because this is no ordinary day.

It's a special day.

Right, Baroness?

Crème de menthe!

Pardon, Marquise.

What do I owe you?

22 muscadets at three francs each,
that's 66.

Take it from this.

I doubt we have change for 5,000,
do we, Alfred?

- I very much doubt it.
- Wait, I have smaller notes.

Here, underneath.

- Who's that?
- Some guy who won the lottery.



66 from 1,000.

He's been going round all the bars
since five, flaunting his cash.

Lucky devil.

- Where did you buy the ticket?
- I didn't buy it, I was given it.

Some guy I opened the door for
who didn't have any change.

What a sucker!
Just as well these guys exist.

- What will you do with the money?
- First, I'll buy some shoes.

I've worn rope shoes for ten years.

I like espadrilles.

They're comfy
and they're quiet too.

Sure, Duchess,
but they wear the feet out.

Thank you.

I'm off.
It's past baby's bedtime.

- Have you got far to go?
- To Jaurès.

Watch out for Mr Durand!

- Who?
- The murderer.

Do you believe that farce?

Four murders in a month
and all in this neighbourhood.

So they say.

I think it's just a stunt
to sell newspapers.

If Durand is so clever,
why does he always leave his card?

Leaving by yourself?

- Do you want to be my nanny?
- I've got what it takes.

Sorry, I've already been weaned.

- Good evening, gentlemen.
- Good evening.

- Are you free?
- Where to?

- Jaurès?
- No chance!

- The Chief of Police is here.
- Come in.

- Morning, Minister.
- Hello, Edouard.

- Are things as bad as that?
- What?

You only call me that
when you've got bad news.

- Edouard...
- Again?

- This is getting serious.
- You mean Mr Durand?

Obviously.
Drastic measures must be taken.

Right, but which?

What do you mean?

- You must arrest him.
- I'd like to.

- Well, then?
- He won't let me.

I can't shield you for much longer.

If you haven't nabbed him
in a fortnight...

- I'm gone.
- Quietly.

Goodbye...

Albert.

- Please come in, Commissioner.
- Hello, sir.

- Any progress on the Durand case?
- Not much.

That's a pity, but I'll be generous.

You have a week to catch him.

If after that time
you have the misfortune to fail...

- You will accept my resignation.
- On grounds of ill health, of course.

Good day, sir.

This has gone far enough.
Do you hear?

If Durand isn't arrested in four days,
you're out.

- Understood?
- Yes, sir.

- You have no time to waste!
- No, sir.

- Is Wens in his office?
- Yes, Chief.

If Durand isn't caught in two days,
I get the sack. Wens.

Patient...

yet prudent.

How wonderful
to be an Impresario!

You're like a gardener
who grows delicate plants,

like a pile of manure
warming tender shoots.

Thank you.

And I am the climbing plant,
reaching for the sky.

- I need support.
- Yes.

I'm like America
before Christopher Columbus.

- I'm waiting.
- For what?

I'm waiting to be discovered...
Christopher.

So you need a job?

The Opéra Comique considered me
for The Marriage of Figaro.

As Cherubino.
Such a beautiful part!

It climbs three octaves.
I hit the fourth straight off.

The director said,
"She's too high, too good."

Just my luck!
Always too good.

Just as I had a foot in the door...

It slammed shut in your face.

And yet I have talent.

I've been holding it back
to stop it from escaping.

But when it comes out,
it will be explosive.

I'm like dynamite.

- The mail, sir.
- Thank you, miss.

Please take me on.
You won't regret it.

I'd like to, but...

Has someone been spreading slander
about me, out of spite?

Slander...

Please...

You see?
I can go high or low at will.

- That's hardly genius.
- I never said it was.

But others can't do it
and they get hired.

Yes, but they have...

What? What do they have?

Oh, I see...

You dirty old man!
You're barking up the wrong tree.

My talent is for the stage,
not the casting couch!

What do they have, eh?

- They have a reputation.
- What?

They have a reputation.
That's what people want.

This Mr Durand, for example.
Now there's a name for you.

He would fill the theatres.

I'd sign Mr Durand in an instant.

Hang on a minute.

So if my name were in the papers,
you'd sign me?

In a flash!

See you tomorrow.

- Well?
- I got hired!

- In principle.
- Thought so.

- There's just one small formality.
- What?

- I need to arrest Mr Durand.
- Is that all?

What do you mean, is that all?

You're making fun of me
with your irony.

You're just jealous.

- You're afraid I'll show you up!
- No, but I pity Mr Durand.

And so you should.
He's got it coming to him.

- Where are you going?
- To start my investigation.

- Every man for himself?
- See you at the finish line.

- The pay?
- In the office in five minutes.

100,000 francs. Imagine
how many dishes I'd get for that.

- Kitting out your kitchen?
- It's for Germaine, not me.

It's her little extravagance.
As her husband I have to indulge it.

Some wives have a thing about clothes.
With her it's unbreakable china dishes.

- I bought her a small one.
- What happened?

I dropped it
before we'd had a chance to use it.

It broke on impact.

- Right, I'm off.
- Goodbye.

Germaine will be wondering
where I am.

Off to fulfil your marital duties?

With Germaine it's a pleasure,
not a duty.

Get your hands off me!
I'm a respectable woman.

Take that!

I want to see the sergeant.

I only deal with high-ranking officers.
I'm not interested in subordinates.

Sergeant.
I really am very fond of policemen.

Parisian policemen
are absolute darlings.

But not these two!
They're vultures.

They had nothing to get their teeth into
so they pounced on poor little me.

- I didn't say or do anything.
- She was cycling without lights.

Do you expect me
to do my rounds all lit up?

- How would that look?
- Your rounds?

I'm looking for Mr Durand.
I'm like St Genevieve.

- Defending Paris against Attila.
- What is she on about?

Go back to school
and learn your geography.

- So you had no lights on?
- So that Durand wouldn't spot me.

That's no reason
to arrest a defenceless girl.

- Look what we found in her bag!
- I have to be able to defend myself.

- Where did you get this?
- It was a gift.

- From whom?
- Santa! It was in my stocking.

This is a police revolver.
You're staying here tonight.

- Take her away.
- Oh, no! You can't arrest me.

I'm a singer.
What if I catch a cold?

I'm very fragile.
My friends will make fun of me.

Please, don't do this.
Call my friend.

Screw your friend!

- You don't know who he is.
- I don't care if he's the Pope!

The Pope?
I'm not sleeping with the Pope!

I have a sense of propriety.
I'm religious too.

My friend is Inspector Vorobietchik.
Call headquarters. You'll see.

- At this hour?
- He always works late.

Meanwhile, I knit shoes for the baby,
if he's capable of making one.

When he was on the throne

Up high, up high

When he was on the throne,

He then began to sing

He began to sing

Hey!

I piss on all policemen

UP high, up high

I piss on all policemen

And the entire constabulary

And the entire constabulary

- Is that meant for me?
- Who else would it be for?

I hope there are no other cops
in the vicinity.

You're lucky I'm off duty.
What are you doing up there?

- Waiting for the bus.
- The bus?

Yes, the F.U.

The bus won't wait for you
up there.

If I were you,
I'd climb down onto the pavement.

- I haven't found what I'm looking for.
- Which is?

- My matchbox.
- Up there?

- The light's better up here.
- Do you take me for a...

Yes, a big fat one!
Do you know something?

You're so ugly, you disgust me.
You're hideous.

"Isn't he awful, madame?"

- I feel sorry for your wife.
- What did you say?

She must be in good shape
to keep up with a porker like you!

God damn it!

- I'll teach you some manners!
- Calm down! What's got into you?

You pig!
You're hurting me!

Steady on!

Come on, get a move on.

I'm going to make you pay
for making me come back.

- What's going on?
- He's blind drunk, that's what.

Just take it easy.
Get me Odéon 4380.

- Police headquarters?
- I want to talk to the Chief.

- You'll talk to my boot!
- There's no need to be rude.

I have something to tell the Chief,
a personal message.

The Chief? That's me.

Mr Wens!

You can go now. Thank you.

- If I'm not mistaken...
- Jean-Baptiste.

- You old crook!
- You have a good memory for faces.

Never forget 'em.

Four years ago, I found
two diamond bracelets on you.

Family heirlooms.

- And an 18th-century miniature.
- My great-grandmother's.

- You had a moustache.
- Suited me, didn't it?

A fine set of whiskers.

Shaved it off for a blonde,
who was really a brunette.

They're all the same!

Can we talk in private?

So now you act drunk
and go around insulting policemen?

Insulting them?
I only called him a porker.

With your record,
you could get two weeks.

I hope so.
A fortnight would fly by.

And I'd be safe.

Safe from what?

- Safe from accidents.
- You're afraid of someone?

Yes, because I'm here
to give you an address.

A good address, Mr Durand's.

That's nice of you.

When I say give it to you,
I mean for a price.

Why didn't you just walk
into the station?

I don't want to end up dead
in the gutter tomorrow night

with a card on my belly.

Durand can't harm you tomorrow
if we arrest him today.

Not so fast.

I know where he lives,
but not who he is.

A boarding house on Avenue Junot,
Les Mimosas.

The murderer lives there
at number 21.

- How do you know?
- It's simple.

I've been a rag and bone man
since I went straight.

Two days ago, the landlady
of Les Mimosas stopped me

to fetch some junk from her attic.

I loaded it up on my cart
and rode home to sort through it.

In the chest of drawers,

an old ugly one
with a leg missing,

what do I see but calling cards?

Good quality card
with "Mr Durand" written on them.

So what?

You're usually quicker off the mark.

- I'm not on form tonight.
- All the same.

Durand lives there,
but in case they search his room,

he hides his cards in the attic
where they could be anyone's.

- It's not difficult.
- Do you have the cards?

Here.

Damn, I've lost them!

- Might these be them?
- Very funny!

- I found them under a street lamp.
- That's lucky.

How about my money?

I could alert police headquarters
and we could raid the premises,

but Durand's not stupid so he'd flee
and you wouldn't get any money.

- That's the first solution.
- Bad idea.

But I'd be covered.

Second solution.

You let us lock you up,
you keep your mouth shut

and you leave me
to quietly lead my investigation.

I'd prefer that.

So you trust me?

As if you were my sister.

You're like her.
You both love your job.

- What does she do?
- She runs a brothel in Clermont.

If I'm not back in two days,
take this letter to police headquarters.

- Where are you going?
- I'm not saying.

I'll pester you until you do.
You know me.

- Indeed I do.
- Tell me and I'll be good all week.

I'm going to the seaside.

- To do what?
- To walk the dog.

- You don't have a dog.
- I'll buy one.

- Are you pulling my leg?
- A bit.

Fine. I won't let you go.
I'll bolt the door.

- I'll go out the window.
- If you leave, I'll run up debts.

I'll buy a mink coat.

Where are you going?

What was that?

- Are you sick?
- No, I'm mute.

Where are my pyjamas?

Never mind, I'll sleep naked.

So that's it!
There's another woman.

You're too smart.

- No soap or toothbrush then.
- I don't care.

I'm sure you don't.
She probably doesn't either.

She must be a real pig.
She sounds just your type!

Listen, Mila,
why are you being so nasty?

Because I love you.

If I didn't, I wouldn't be jealous.

You're not jealous,
you're cantankerous.

I've always been a bit malicious,
but deep down I'm a nice person.

Now, you be nice
and tell me where you're going?

I'm going to be working, you silly fool.

- Have you found a lead?
- I hope so.

You're so clever.
My fox has found a lead!

I'm off, Mila.

- Will it be dangerous?
- No.

So brave too.
That's what I love about you.

Will you think of me
when you're dead?

I want your last thoughts to be of me.

Because I've always loved you.
I've never deceived you.

You won't find anyone up there
to butter your bread and make coffee.

Don't make such a face.
Goodbye, darling.

Goodbye, my love.

Have you made a will?

- Your canary sings well.
- That was me whistling, not him.

I've tried teaching him
but he doesn't want to learn.

- Maybe he's mute.
- Ferdinand, mute? You must be joking.

He has a great voice.

But he's like Tino.
He uses it sparingly.

Did you hear that, Ferdinand?
Your laziness fails to impress.

Make an effort!

Armand!

Go and help Juliette with the beds
when you've finished.

And stop your whistling.
This is not a prison.

It's a boarding house
so shut your mouth.

- But Mrs Point...
- No buts. It's annoying.

- He's preparing an act.
- It's the bedrooms that need preparing.

Were you in the attic
in the middle of the night?

- Me?
- Yes, I heard footsteps upstairs.

Not me. I sleep like a log.

Don't worry, I'll figure it out.

Now get a move on.
Was it you, Mr Colin?

No, I had a busy day yesterday,
selling junk.

I fell straight asleep.

You left your light on.
And I pay the electricity!

- What's new?
- You were wanted upstairs.

Trouble?

Miss Cuq wouldn't leave
the bathroom.

Dr Linz wanted in.
He made a big fuss.

They can sort that out themselves.
Miss Cuq can defend herself.

There she is.
The siege must be over.

Good morning. How is everyone?
Well? Glad to hear it.

Forgive me if I don't stop to chat
but I must get to work.

Quite right.
When inspiration calls...

I don't believe in inspiration.
It's concentration we writers need.

I concentrate every day
from nine to 12 and four to seven.

It doesn't sound much
but it requires discipline.

I can believe it.

Here. A package came for you.
"Return to sender".

- One of your manuscripts, I fear.
- Heart's Awakening rejected.

Don't cry.
Maybe it was too concentrated.

- Not many new lodgers recently.
- Pity, I love new housemates.

Naturally, you always think
you're in with a chance.

Don't forget, Doctor,
that you're talking to a real lady.

Real ladies don't spend
an hour in the bathroom.

You must have been spying on me,
like you were this morning.

Spying? You think
I looked through the keyhole?

- I wouldn't be surprised.
- You're wrong.

I've never found ancient ruins
an attractive sight.

I'll have a whisky, Mrs Point.

At nine in the morning?

- What?
- Just thinking aloud.

- A man's free to think, no?
- You thinking? That'll be the day!

Come now, gentlemen.

A whisky for number 17.

I won't be insulted
by some petty salesman.

- I served 25 years in the bush.
- So you tell us 20 times a day.

Stop arguing and give me a light.

May I?

Ah, Professor. Always there for me.
Do you want breakfast?

All I want is to kiss
your rosy fingertips.

- No hot chocolate?
- Well, if you insist.

- Hot chocolate for number 14.
- With cream.

With cream.

I'd like to know which son of a bitch
was in the attic last night.

- Did I wake you?
- It was you, Professor?

- Yes, and I'll never forgive myself.
- What were you doing up there?

Well, this may sound silly,

but I also heard footsteps
above my head.

Muffled footsteps
that were hard to ignore.

I found it so intriguing
I simply had to go up.

- Then what?
- Then...

Not a soul.

You had a nightmare.
You shouldn't eat so much.

It's Mrs Point's fault.
She's an excellent cook.

A gentleman to see you.

- Have you shown him into my office?
- No, Madame.

He is here.

- Sorry if I frightened you.
- No, Pastor.

- I just wasn't expecting you.
- I'm sure.

In Montmartre you tend
to meet more whores than pastors.

I meant more lost souls
than ministers of religion.

I got your gist.

- Can I help you?
- I'd like a room. Anything free?

I only have double rooms.

- So?
- I thought a pastor

might find that shocking.

We're not celibate, madam.

I've been married nine years.
We're expecting our eighth child.

- Goodness!
- It's quite natural.

- I wouldn't know. I'm a lady.
- Congratulations.

Possibly.

- Are you visiting Paris?
- Yes, for a church conference.

And they sent you to Les Mimosas?

No, it was chance that brought me here.
Providence, if you will.

A providential chance.

I was reading my Bible
as I passed your door

when I read the words, "Knock,
and the door shall be opened to you."

So I knocked.

A man answered,
crowing like a cock.

Then he led me in
with the nightingale's song.

- That was Armand.
- The manservant.

- He's preparing an act.
- Naturally.

Let me introduce you.

- Mr Colin...
- A humble craftsman.

- Dr Linz...
- Colonial service, retired.

- Miss Cuq.
- A maiden lady.

And our star guest,
Professor Lalah-Poor.

- A scholar?
- An artiste.

A master of manipulation
and a man of mystery.

- Do you value your wedding ring?
- My wife does.

Don't give it to the professor.

He turned Mrs Point's ring
into an iron.

Don't worry, I'll be careful.

I may even try
to discover his tricks.

- If it amuses you.
- It interests me.

One must not focus on what is seen
but on what is not seen.

Hot chocolate.

Whisky.

- A whisky to celebrate your arrival?
- No, thank you.

So you can have children,
but not whisky?

I can, but I only drink my own.

If you'll allow me.

I know the colonies well.
Where were you?

- The middle of nowhere.
- Where exactly?

- I moved around.
- So did I. We can reminisce.

If you return from hell
you prefer to forget.

That's a bold thing to say.
No one ever returns from hell.

Cheers!

I'll show you to your room.

Number 13, if you don't mind.

Perfectly natural.
I'm not superstitious.

I'll follow you.

I forgot to introduce myself.
My name is Robert Lester.

I try to help people find salvation.

I'm at your service.

If you receive this letter;
it means I am dead.

Certain clues lead me to believe
that the murderer we are after

lives at Les Mimosas,
21 Avenue Junot.

Yours posthumously, Wens.

Do you mind if I read
while you whistle?

Go ahead, so long as you're quiet.

I can't stand noise when I work.

- Neither can I.
- I can understand that.

- I'll go to my room then.
- You do that, Pastor.

And if anyone makes any noise,
let me know.

We don't tolerate noise in this house.

You are beautiful.

You exaggerate,
but I was a beautiful baby.

A boarder?

Don't you recognise him?
That's Kid Robert.

It's shocking to see him
in such a state.

- I thought he was dead.
- He might as well be.

A blind boxer is useless.

To think...
Did you see that fight in Buffalo?

The women reached for their binoculars
when he took off his robe.

"Vanity of vanities.
All is vanity and vexation of spirit."

Of course.

Oh, it's you, Pastor.

I'm sorry.

- Wrong door.
- Do come in!

I hate to intrude.

I like a bit of conversation

and I rarely get spoiled that way here.

These are trousers for my figurines.
As you can see, I make dolls.

I see you've noticed.
They don't have faces.

That's my gimmick.

They used to deliver
these stupid, blank faces.

I hated putting them on my dolls.

Then one day
I got an idea from the newspaper.

"Mr Durand, the faceless killer."

Why not make Durand
with a ball instead of a head?

The retailers wanted me
to add a question mark.

But I refused.
It was too crass.

The blankness is far scarier.
You can read into it what you will.

I make Durands
who stab, shoot or strangle.

It's horrible but it pays.

And I could use the money,
to be honest with you.

Life hasn't been kind to me so far.

When I say life, I mean people.

People can be so cruel.

Just like animals.
Take this place, for example.

Miss Cuq is harmless, but Dr Linz...

Do you know what Dr Linz did?

He's done time.

He was charged with abortion
three years ago.

Nice fellow, eh?

At least we know
where we stand with him.

Lalah-Poor is different,
a complete mystery.

He hasn't worked in months.
So what does he live on?

It's a mystery,
and a sinister one at that, believe me.

Some say he pays Mrs Point in kind.

I don't know.
But I do know the landlady.

Matters of the flesh may interest her,
but she prefers money.

But I shouldn't speak ill
of my neighbours.

Quite right, Mr Colin. Charity.

Charity above all.

Oh, I forgot Kid Robert and his nurse.

Save it for next time.

Come in, Pastor.

Make yourself at home.

Sorry, I've got the wrong room.

It's nice to see you

and to make your acquaintance.

Come in!

The show is about to begin.

You have before you
the one and only Lalah-Poor!

My father's name was Tree Sparrow.

One day he disappeared.
Off he flew. No more Tree Sparrow.

Guess who they found in his place.

The one and only Lalah-Poor.

- Believe it or not.
- I believe you.

Good for you.

Come and look at my things.
Isn't that funny?

- Do you collect empty frames?
- No, paintings. I love paintings.

That used to be a Vuillard sketch
but I made it disappear by mistake.

Like the hands of the clock,
the lampshade

and the telephone cord.

Hello, anyone there?

No one. He's vanished too.

It's become second nature to me.

Objects in my hand just disappear.

I scare myself sometimes,
though I'm easy-going.

I'm a good-natured fellow.
I like everybody.

- Even the boarders here?
- Especially them.

How could you not like them?
You're lucky.

It's rare to find such decent folk.

Colin, for instance,
may seem a little grumpy at first

but he's top drawer.

And Miss Cuq...

- Have you read anything of hers?
- I'm afraid not.

Ask her for a manuscript
and see for yourself.

She has style.
Better still, she has a style.

And Dr Linz...
You really have to admire him.

But I was told...

Ah yes, that unfortunate affair.
They were right to tell you.

But between us,
how many men do you know

who would risk their career
out of pity for an unhappy woman?

Dr Linz is one such man.

We should be proud to live
under the same roof as him.

There.

Well, let me thank you for your visit.

Oh, I forgot to return your wallet.

- An innocent prank.
- Well played.

Oh, I forgot...

Here's your wallet.

I'm sorry, wrong room.

Easily done.

- How is the new lodger?
- She'll be right down.

- And the Pastor?
- Here I am.

Come and sit on my right, Pastor.

"Hear, ye people!
The Lord is witness against you."

"The faithful city
has become a prostitute."

"It was once righteous
but now it houses murderers."

"But darkness will not reign
forever on Earth"

"with its anguish."

"Thus sayeth the Lord:"

"I will spurn my adversaries
and avenge my enemies."

"They shall drink in my wrath."

"The wicked shall be like tinder.
They shall go up in flames."

"They shall burn together,
and no one shall extinguish them."

Amen!

Bravo!

- That was sweet.
- You have good lungs.

- I'm impressed.
- Mr Colin should know.

These gentlemen used
to give concerts for us.

- You sang?
- I wouldn't have dared.

- I merely scraped my violin.
- Scraped is right!

Doctor, I've never criticised
your cello playing.

Won't you all be so kind
as to accompany me?

Unfortunately, Dr Linz and I
don't see eye to eye musically.

It's a pity because
you have a ravishing voice.

Really?

It's a pleasure to meet people
who know music.

My boyfriend never lets me sing.

- Doesn't he like your voice?
- Him?

- You must be joking. He's a fool.
- What does he do?

He shows off,
and he's not even good at that.

All he's good for
is selling chestnuts outside cafés.

Poor child. You've had a hard time.

In my experience,
you can't expect anything from men.

- Not at your age!
- What do you mean?

Your goose is cooked.
I'm yet to be plucked.

Is that right?

Anyway, I've found a way
to stop publishers from rejecting me.

- You're giving up writing?
- No.

- I'm writing a thriller.
- That's all we need.

I have a great idea,

a truly original setting.

A haunted castle.
Can you picture it?

Sweating walls,
the sound of chains.

Oh, sure.

But I'd prefer
somewhere less sinister.

Why not set it in a restaurant?

A man eating soup
with a knife in his back.

Or better still,
why not in a small hotel?

Or a furnished apartment, or...

A music hall.

- I prefer my haunted castle.
- You'd be right at home there.

The detective is what matters.

He could be an elderly doctor
with a white beard.

That's boring, and depressing!

Why not a man in uniform?

Like an officer...

a priest...

a postman.

Anyway, my killer will be a vampire.
I'll call him Düsseldorf.

A vampire?

- It's not my day!
- I'm just being frank.

Whoever heard
of a man sucking blood?

I'd have him kill for money.
It's more natural.

And forget this Düsseldorf business.

Call him Dupont...

or Dubois,

OF...

Duschnock.

- Why not Durand?
- Good idea.

Not this again!

He's always going on
about Mr Durand.

Mr Durand is a great man,
an exceptional being.

He's a horrible monster!

Because he occasionally kills off
the odd lowlife?

My only gripe
is that he uses a dagger and a shoelace

rather than a machine gun,
dynamite and toxic gas.

- Do you justify murder?
- No, slaughter.

I like Durand
because he is a serial killer.

But he robs his victims.

So what?
They misuse their money.

You're an anarchist.

And you're a pathetic fool.

Durand is justified
by the existence of people like you.

If he could hear me,
you'd be his next victim.

Thank you. You're too kind.

But Durand will be caught by then.

By the police?
Don't make me laugh.

Durand is too smart
for that bunch.

If God exists, he'll be caught.

- That's a big "if".
- I hope you don't doubt it.

The Pastor is with me.
Durand will be caught.

I'm not sure about caught,
but he will be damned.

- He already is.
- And he's proud of it.

Dr Linz, you know so much
about Durand.

- Are you a friend of his?
- A friend? No.

- Could you be Mr Durand?
- Think what you like.

- You're not Durand.
- How do you know?

Because Mr Durand... is me!

I'll prove it.

Watch me carefully.
Pay attention.

It's dead. Poor bird.

That's why I'm Durand.

Forgive me, Professor,
but that's not funny.

I'm sorry, dear friend,
but it makes me laugh.

Wait!

I've found my story,
thanks to this young lady.

The setting is a boarding house,
Les Mimosas.

Mr Durand is one of the guests,
one of you.

The detective sneaks in,
disguised as a cleric.

- Forgive me, Pastor.
- Go right ahead.

The first chapter is taken up
by conversation, as now.

But immediately afterwards,
when everyone has gone to bed,

there is a murder.
A fine, bloody murder.

- Well, well!
- Blood, blood, blood!

- Let it flow.
- Rivers of blood!

Stop it, you fools!

You're unleashing evil forces.

What's got into you?

Nothing, but mark my words:

Tragedy will strike tonight.

Help me, Vania.

Ten past midnight
and no news from your inspector.

No sign of him.
Vorobietchik has disappeared.

For good.

Or else he's had his throat slit
or been shot in the head.

Who is it?

Put him on.

Yes, who is this?

- Who?
- Mr Durand.

Send your men to Les Mimosas.
That's where I live.

You'll find a warm corpse there.

He hung up.

Listen!

Here is the correct time.

At the fourth stroke,
it will be 12:13am.

Igor him!

Wens, my darling!

Wake up! Snap out of it!

Help!

Open up!

- What's happened?
- Call the doctor!

- What's happened?
- I think I've killed him.

- I'm sure he's dead.
- Who?

- My darling Wens!
- It's the Pastor!

Saint Anthony, I beseech you.

Bring him back.
Don't let him die.

Poor girl.

Someone's at the door.

Armand, get the door!

Can't you hear someone's ringing?

I'll see what's up!

- Police. Where's the body?
- What body?

- Wasn't someone killed here?
- You know already? First floor.

Stay here. You too.

Let me through.

Good God, Wens!

- It was me, Mr Monnet.
- You're here?

- I killed him.
- What is the meaning of this?

I thought
he was going to attack me.

Do you mind?

Of course.

He's just unconscious.

- What are you doing?
- Fetching water to revive him.

Doctor, this newspaper
with Durand's name cut out

was found in your room.

I never read Le Petit Parisien.
This is Colin's newspaper.

I never lock my door.
You took it to frame me.

The victim was stabbed
with a lancet from this case.

- Yes.
- Your case.

- But someone took it.
- Who?

You're accusing me?

I'm not accusing anyone,

but you did ask to see
my instruments this afternoon.

Excuse me, but you insisted
on showing them to me.

- I didn't ask you for anything.
- You make me sick!

I thought you were a fool
but you're a pathetic Tartuffe.

That's enough!

Try to deny it, but we have
Kid Robert's testimony.

Durand called the Chief Inspector
at 12:10am.

Precisely three minutes later,

these two witnesses heard
a man limping up the stairs.

Only you limp here.

This is a plot against me!

Get dressed.
You're coming with us.

- Just a second.
- What?

- Aren't you dead?
- Yes, quite dead.

Thank God I came to
just in time to hear your interrogation.

It would have been a shame to miss it.
What a lesson! What genius!

Durand's not that smart.
We simply acted promptly.

Too promptly,
if you don't mind me saying.

I've never seen such observation,
so much skill employed,

only to make... a mistake.

- A mistake?
- Yes, a glaring mistake.

Still, your reasoning was beautiful.

I'll forgive you owing to your injury.
The blood must have gone to your head.

Perhaps.

But Durand and the Doctor
are the same person.

Take him away then.

- What are you waiting for?
- You think I lack proof?

You have too much proof.
That's what worries me.

Dr Linz, will you walk up the stairs?

Go ahead.

That's enough.

Can you tell me if those were
the footsteps you heard tonight?

I'm not sure. I think so.

No, it wasn't like that.
It sounded different.

What's this all about?

Now listen.

- That's it!
- Naturally.

Someone imitated the Doctor's limp,
and like all imitators, he overdid it.

Who last saw Miss Cuq alive?

I brought her some camomile tea at 11:00.
She said she couldn't sleep.

No one entered the house after that?

No, Pastor. I mean, Detective.

Everyone was home,
so I bolted the door.

Therefore,
the murderer is one of you.

Did anyone use the bathroom after 11:00?

No one?

Sorry, Mr Colin, I can't lie.

- He came out at 11:30.
- Really?

I was going to see Kid Robert.

Why were you going to his room
at that hour?

- Kid Robert is my patient.
- Of course.

And you went to care for him.
Perfectly natural.

- How about it, Mr Colin?
- I never left my bed all evening.

I saw you!

I'm not accusing you, Colin,

but I'm fairly certain
I heard you enter your room

right around that time.

A coincidence, I trust.

- What did you want in the bathroom?
- Merely to take a bath.

Sure. Taking a bath at midnight
is perfectly natural.

I was tense.

- Come with me.
- I thought a warm bath would relax me.

Yes, but why didn't you say so before?

I didn't know...
I mean, I forgot she'd seen me.

Right. So you went
into the bathroom to...

- To wash.
- Very well, take off your robe.

Now your pyjamas.

The bottoms.

Socks.

- What?
- Take off your socks.

If you've taken a bath,
your feet should be clean.

Let's see.

No need for questions,
I'll tell you everything I know.

This isn't my first interview.

It was a glittering evening.

I was asked to sing after dinner.

It went down very well.

I knew the killer was amongst us

but I showed no fear.

After all, my grandfather served
under Napoléon.

He rode beside the Emperor
with a feather in his cap.

But that's another story.

- What are you doing?
- I'm practising for the reporters.

Too late. It's all here.
Listen to this.

"The nightmare is over."

"Mr Durand was arrested
by the police last night,"

"thanks to the energy and skill
of Mr Monnet,"

"who heads up
the special brigade."

Damn!

What about us?

They forgot us.
But at least we got Durand.

And all because he had dirty feet.

- Get the door.
- Where's the maid?

I sacked her. We had words.

- Words?
- She said I was catty.

Some truths are best left unsaid.

Cretin!

Compliments of Mr Durand

- Arresting Colin was stupid.
- Do you think so?

- Idiotic.
- I agree with you.

But it was your idea.

The papers are giving you
all the credit.

- Are you suggesting I took credit...
- Perish the thought.

You'd have been sacked by now
if I hadn't.

You want my resignation?

No, but if you offered it,
I'd advise the Chief to accept it.

Then don't keep him waiting.
Patient but respectful.

- You released Colin?
- I had to.

But I arrested Linz.
And this time, he'll confess.

I don't doubt it.

Patient but prescient.

How long have you been living
at Mrs Point's house?

Five years.

Where did you live before that?

- A hotel on the Champs-Elysées.
- Which one?

- The Claridge.
- Why did you leave there?

- It was too expensive.
- And?

Carry on, we're in no hurry.

- Do you have any debts?
- Some.

- Who with?
- My tailor.

- Is that all?
- I think so.

- But you said "some" debts.
- I made a mistake.

Do you often go out at night?

- Two or three times a week.
- Where were you on 18 April?

18 April? I don't know.
The cinema, maybe.

- Where?
- I don't remember.

Then why did you say
you went to the cinema?

- You like to gamble.
- I never gamble.

You were arrested four years ago
at some dive in Marseille.

- My friends dragged me there.
- How much did you lose?

- I don't know.
- Well, nor do we.

- But you owe money?
- Like everyone.

- Did you enter the bathroom?
- I told you, no.

- So you don't bathe?
- Yes.

But when I went to take a bath,
Miss Cuq was in there.

- So you killed her.
- No, that was in the morning.

- When?
- Yesterday.

Miss Cuq was dead yesterday.

I meant the day before.
You're driving me crazy!

Confess and it will all be over.

I'm not a killer, I tell you!

Carry on questioning him.
Ask him anything you like.

See you this evening.

Come in.

- It's me.
- What a nice surprise, Inspector.

I'm no longer an inspector. I resigned.

This is a friendly visit,
if I can call it that.

- Won't Mila be jealous?
- She doesn't know.

- You're cautious.
- I have to be.

Durand struck again
while Colin was in jail.

- So Colin isn't Durand.
- I know. He's back already.

Why did you say
you'd seen him then?

I must have mistaken him.
I'm very short-sighted.

- That's dangerous.
- What, myopia?

No, giving false testimony.

- I thought this was a friendly visit.
- I'm speaking as a friend.

I can recommend an optician.

Thanks.

- That's a lovely robe.
- Actually, it's a negligee.

I wouldn't know.
Mila wears flannel pyjamas.

Lucky you.

I can't talk.
I wear a cotton nightcap.

- You don't?
- I do, with a pompom.

You must look sweet.

Ravishing, intoxicating, adorable.

Cover up or you'll catch a head cold.

- Through my legs?
- Depends on where your brain is.

I do find this lingerie
to be quite risqué.

It's not common for a nurse.

But you see,

when you wear a uniform all day

with your hair covered up,

it's nice to feel like a woman,

with satin on your skin.

- Does Kid Robert like it?
- He's blind.

- He can touch.
- Now you're being indiscreet.

- Isn't he your lover?
- I took pity on him a few times.

- Did he tell you to accuse Colin?
- No.

- Who did, then?
- Nobody.

Just now in Lalah-Poor's room,
I found a comb

which looked just like this one.

Look, twins.

Well?

No more questions, please.

- Do you love the conjurer?
- Of course not!

- But you slept with him.
- Maybe once. It was over in a flash.

- Why?
- I got bored.

I'm always waiting for something.

You're not expecting him now?

No, don't worry.
He's at the theatre.

They hired him
after all this publicity.

I think I'll pay a visit
to the theatre then.

Leaving so soon?

I'd only disappoint you if I stayed.

- Good evening.
- I'm not talking to you.

Perfectly natural.

Come in.

Bob Destirac from Paris Soir.

Come in, young man.
Don't be afraid.

The press is always welcome.

Art is nothing without publicity.

What do you want to know about?
The Indian tomb trick?

The mystery of the talking head?
Ask me anything you like.

- Mind if I dress?
- Go ahead... Mr Durand.

What's eating you?

Just my little joke.

I've decided to address
all Mrs Point's lodgers that way

to gauge their reactions.

It's a dangerous game.

What if I were Mr Durand?

I could have sent you
to a better world by now.

However, if you read the papers
instead of writing them,

you'd know
that Durand is under arrest.

- You think Dr Linz is the killer?
- No.

- Certainly not.
- You should.

Given that Colin is innocent,
the servant has an alibi

and the blind man is incapable
of committing a crime,

I see only one possible suspect.

Yet you feel uneasy
about being here with me.

Not at all.
I find this conversation fascinating.

But your suspicion is growing
by the second.

No, I suspect you all.

- Well, you're wrong.
- How?

To suspect the others.

- So you admit you're Mr Durand?
- Yes, that's what I mean.

You admit you killed 11 people.
More specifically...

Mr Levret at 11pm on 10 November,
Avenue Clichy.

Yes!

- Mr Tavernin...
- Yes!

Turn off that light!

Mr Tavernin at 7:30pm on the 12th,
Rue Victor Massé.

Yes, anything you like.

OK.

Tell me what your motives were.

Money.

- Each time?
- Yes.

For Miss Cuq too?

Yes.

- She didn't have any money.
- I thought she had savings.

Why did you place a calling card
on your victims' corpses?

Out of bravado.

- Towards the police?
- Yes, and society.

Now that we've warmed up,
it's time to get down to business.

For my next act, I shall require
the help of my assistant,

Christiane Perette.

Christiane Perette.

This is where our work begins.

We're binding
Miss Perette's hands and feet

so that she cannot make
the slightest movement.

This trunk is completely empty.
Completely empty.

We place the living corpse
of Miss Christiane Perette in it.

Now we close the trunk.

One, two, three.

I'm taking a few steps.

With one shot from this revolver
the subject will disappear.

Let me be clear.

This is not a trick
or a practical joke.

This is a scientific phenomenon

known to scientists
as "disintegration of matter".

Ready?

One... two... three!

The process has been
a complete success.

What did you do
with the money you stole?

I can't go on.

- Where's the money?
- I hid it.

- Where?
- That's my business.

- What?
- Dr Linz is innocent.

That's a good one.
He's just confessed.

What?

Good Lord!

Stay there.
I'll send two men over.

What's going on?

Why did you confess?
Are you protecting someone?

No, I wanted to be left in peace.

- What do you have to say for yourself?
- Nothing,

I'll wait until Durand
claims his 13th victim.

Give me the handcuffs.

Do you have them?

Oh, sorry.

- Well?
- It's still going on.

- Durand strangled another woman.
- And the conjurer?

- Innocent.
- Poor thing.

- Yet this time...
- You're out of luck.

It's most discouraging.

Here, I'll squeeze your blackheads
to cheer you up.

- Get lost!
- There are so many.

Leave me alone!

They'll only get bigger
and leave pock marks.

Maybe Durand
doesn't live at the house.

No one came in or went out
while Miss Cuq was being murdered.

- You're hurting me!
- Stay still.

- It's like vermicelli.
- You've got a nerve!

- What about the whistler?
- He has numerous alibis.

I don't trust menservants.

We had one at school.
He turned out to be a sex maniac.

That's irrelevant.

- And the blind man?
- He's blind.

Do you reckon? I saw him blink
when he took off his glasses.

- You're crazy.
- That only leaves Mrs Point.

- It's not a woman's handiwork.
- Maybe she's a man.

- You never know under all that lard.
- Hardly!

Anything's possible.
I'd get her to strip if I were you.

I'd say, "Show us!"
That would settle the matter.

That's quite enough!

Let me! It's the last one.

Oh, it's a beauty!

The finest yet.
The king of blackheads!

Come in.
What do you want?

A letter for you both.

You big brute!

Mrs Point has invited us over
to celebrate her lodgers' innocence.

- She wants you to sing.
- How nice of her.

- You're going?
- Yes. I don't get many offers.

- Well, I'm not.
- Oh, please come with me!

Never!

You're making a mistake,
because Durand will be there.

A steamboat siren.

A station master's whistle,
and then the train's.

A traffic cop whistling
at a pedestrian crossing.

- Did you see the grocer's daughters?
- The whole neighbourhood is here.

They're a great crowd.

- Why not go inside?
- I wouldn't see any better.

- Hey, no gloominess tonight.
- We're celebrating our reconciliation.

Who'd have thought a week ago
that we'd be playing together again?

Durand is good for something.

- Where's the star?
- In my room doing her makeup.

- What are you doing?
- Playing patience.

- Have you seen the programme?
- No.

It's worth a look.
I've never had such good billing.

I'm the last act in the first half.
The American star.

Open it. It won't hurt your eyes.

It says I'm a star of the stage.

- Wait a minute.
- What's wrong? Don't you approve?

One act is missing.
The sensation of the evening.

Mr Durand's arrest
by the famous Inspector Wens.

- You solved it?
- Yes, it was simple.

Break a leg!

Wait a second.
And not a word to her Ladyship!

She's an old bag.

- Everything all right?
- Fine, thanks.

- Are we disturbing you, Mila?
- Not at all.

- You look strange.
- Me? Not at all.

Why should I look strange?
On the contrary, I'm perfectly normal.

- What's got into you?
- I promised not to say anything.

And when I promise to hold my tongue,
my lips are sealed.

- Just between us women.
- Nothing doing!

If it's a secret, she's quite right.

It is a secret, isn't it?

You bet, and when it comes out,
it will raise the roof.

Listen, all I can say is
that Mr Durand is in for a hard time.

Don't ask me anything more.
My lips are sealed.

Finished.

- Is that you, Inspector?
- Yes, excuse me.

- Going out?
- Yes, I don't feel so well.

Strange, me neither.

- Tummy upset?
- Headache.

Mine's a tummy upset.
We can go out together.

Looking for something?
Your revolver perhaps?

I just borrowed it.

- You go first.
- I think I'll stay in.

- What about your headache?
- It's gone.

Well, my tummy is still upset.
You go first.

- Where are you going?
- For a walk.

You'll be back for my song?

I hope so.

- Nice weather, isn't it?
- Wonderful.

- Feels good to be alive.
- Make the most of it.

- You're cheerful.
- Indeed.

One last warning.

We might meet people,
cops even.

One word out of you and I'll shoot.

- You'll miss.
- At point-blank range?

You never know,
you might sneeze.

- You're an optimist.
- By nature. Patient but optimistic.

Anyway, you wouldn't dare shoot.
You'd get caught.

Do you think so? I run fast.

And as you know,
I have two witnesses to swear an alibi.

- Get up!
- I can't. I'm hurt.

- Have you broken anything?
- Stop clowning around!

- He looks hurt.
- It's a drunken game he's been playing.

- You could say that.
- I'll help you.

- Someone's calling you, driver.
- Are you sure...

- Take me with you.
- No, I'll take care of him.

Square Rigier!

- But that's near here.
- I'm a doctor. It's an emergency.

Foiled!

- Next time I'll shoot.
- Perfectly natural.

- Where are we going?
- Nearby. I'd slow down if I were you.

- Am I a condemned man?
- You played and lost.

- No game is lost until it's won.
- I wouldn't swap my cards for yours.

I'll bet you 1,000 to one I get away.

- Liar!
- Is it a deal?

Here's a cop.
Look straight ahead.

Watch what you're doing!

Sorry, officer, he's a bit drunk.

He's getting married.
This is his stag do.

- I guess you didn't see me.
- I saw you.

That's how I got my aim right.

He told me to do it
because he hates cops.

He bet I wouldn't spit
on your boots.

- You're coming with me!
- He's just kidding.

Come with me, both of you!

Help! Help!

- Stay here!
- We'll be waiting.

What is it? What's wrong?

A round of applause
for our three friends,

recently cleared of all suspicion.

- Where could Wens be?
- He left with Lalah-Poor.

- They'll be back soon.
- Unless they meet Durand.

Now I shall hand you over
to our charming star, Mila Malou.

"I Know You're Lying".

I know very well

You 're lying

But I come

Timidly

Each time I surrender

To your words, soft and tender

And no matter how much

I blame myself

It is wrong

To love you

I know very well

You 're lying

But I come

Timidly

Each time I surrender

To your words, soft and tender...

- What is it? Are you ill?
- They've killed him. I'm sure of it.

- Who?
- Don't you see?

Colin, Lalah-Poor and the Doctor
are three Durands! Three!

Come in, we're here.

- Nice place, isn't it?
- Lovely.

Cheerful too.

You've already killed someone
in a builder's yard.

That's true.

I did kill one of those lowlifes
in a builder's yard.

Poor fellow.

Don't feel sorry for him.
At least they found his body.

There'll be no trace of you. Look!

It's quicklime.

Yes. No wonder you're a detective.
You have a good eye.

- Looking at the time?
- Yes.

- Expecting help?
- No, just making a calculation.

It takes five minutes to walk back
and your act starts in 15.

That leaves you ten minutes
to chat.

Unfortunately for you,
we have nothing to say.

- Then why bring me here?
- To facilitate your disappearance.

- Ah, you're going to conjure me away.
- This is no joke.

I really can't complain.

I would have hated to die,
shot by some petty crook.

But there's no shame
in losing to brilliant adversaries,

to masterminds.

- Thanks.
- You're too kind.

No, I mean it.
You've astonished me.

- What's that?
- A shoelace.

It also serves as a noose.

By using a single pseudonym
for your crimes,

you've created a lethal trinity.

That is genius.

- You're exaggerating.
- Not at all.

- If I had more time...
- You've got three minutes. Go on.

In truth, you're not criminals.

You're artists in crime.

It's a pity your masterpiece
will remain unknown.

I shall be your first...

and last admirer.

- We're sorry to see you go.
- Alas.

All we can offer you
is your choice of death.

How kind.

If you want the sword...

the pistol...

or strangulation,
just say the word.

You couldn't be more kind.

I shall take advantage of the offer.
Of you three,

there is one
who has my deepest admiration.

The one who had the inspiration
for this association.

I want to die by his hand.

- Me!
- Me!

- You?
- What?

- That's a good one!
- How dare you?

- Come now, gentlemen.
- Let us speak.

- Just a minute.
- After me.

Why after you?

- I'll set the record straight.
- No, we'll set it straight.

This story goes back

some 40 years to a classroom
in an elementary school.

We were three young hooligans.

But one of us was by far the worst.

- His name was Theodore Linz.
- Thank you.

I'll give you credit for that.

You were the nastiest
little beast imaginable.

Every day he would pee
in the supervisor's inkwell.

Naturally, the headmaster
suspected him

and Theodore was expelled.

The next day, to clear his name,

I got the idea to do the same thing
in the same circumstances.

Linz was reinstated two days later.

I came up with the mechanism
for our future exploits.

You're right, Colin.
Here is my neck.

No, you can't claim the honour.
You merely stumbled on the idea.

The true inventor is the one
who developed the theory in practice.

That was me
and I don't think anyone will deny that.

Forgive me, Doctor,
I await your sword.

Hang on a minute.

The Inspector said
the pseudonym was the thing.

Durand was my idea.

I am Mr Durand.

So it would seem.

It's difficult.

A moral dilemma.

May I?

Well?

There is one solution
which would win my vote.

To be killed by none of you
and to arrest all three of you.

That's a good one!

- Arrest us?
- How?

Like this.

You lost our bet, Professor.

Pay up and I'll tell you
the story of Tom Thumb.