Original subtitles

Oh, my God! What's this?

What are you looking at?

Do you think I killed him? I found him like this.

Dead as a doornail.

You stay here. Don't move. I'll call an ambulance.

Put him here.

- An accident? - No.

I don't think so.

There are no traces of blood.

- What happened to him? - I don't know.

They found him unconscious in some part of the city.

He's dead.

Dead?

I'm dead?

It can't be! I'm alive!

Can't you tell I'm alive?

I have to make them understand.

YOu!

Listen to me!

Look at me!

Maybe I'm sleeping. I have to wake up.

I have to move a finger.

I have to!

Don't leave me like this! Help me!

Help me!

I only found this passport and some loose change in his pockets.

He must be a foreigner.

What's his name?

Gregory Moore.

Born in Springfield, Illinois...

December the 6th in 1931. American citizen.

Address?

- I don't find it listed. - Give me that.

It's under permit of residence: 16 Vodichkova Street.

- He's a journalist. - Cause of death?

Cardiac arrest.

State very clearly that he was already dead when they brought him in.

Why? Is this new?

Otherwise the papers could pin it on us.

- Bring him to the morgue. - I'm alive!

You can't do that!

That's it.

Now, write this down: An English trenchcoat.

Underwear and undershirt. Socks.

A white shirt.

Pants.

A wristwatch.

And a pair of shoes.

Now look at them.

- They're new and expensive. - What shall I do? Record them?

- Or not? - Record them, record them.

I don't want to get fired for a pair of shoes.

Strange...

He doesn't feel as cold as the others.

They could have closed your eyes at least. Now I can't close them anymore.

Come on.

Have you noticed that the workload has increased?

It did.

But the pay didn't.

This can't be real.

It has to be a nightmare.

I can't feel a thing even though it must be cold in here.

What happened to me?

Only my brain is still working.

I have to remember. So I'm Gregory... Gregory Moore.

That I know. But what else?

"This is not a real and proper organization.

The members of this group neither have offices...

nor a public relations department.

They get together from time to time, however...

to discuss the state of the nation."

Jacques, the hat.

"This morning they were arrested...

for publicly criticizing actions of the government...

in regards to interior and international politics.

They were... They were claimed mentally insane...

and locked up in a mental asylum...

to be forcedly treated with therapeutic measures...

for an unspecified period of time."

ls everything clear?

- Alright. Bye. See you tomorrow. - To the morgue.

You will go to the morgue with your damn vodka.

Oh, I'm going, I'm going. But you be careful.

The heart attack will get you too sooner or later...

- if you go on like that. - Due to the women or the work?

Well, now I'll bid you farewell. Mira is coming.

Damn you, drop dead.

Here's a flash that looks interesting.

It seems like this night somewhere in Siberia...

they tested a new type of missile with a nuclear warhead.

- Don't you communicate the news? - I'll do it tomorrow.

It's better to wait for a confirmation.

- I'll communicate it right away. - Give me the telex when you're done with it.

- Bye. - Always leaving, huh?

Will I see you at the press conference at the presidential palace?

No, I've got other things to do. I'll employ the services of Jacques.

"Cherchez la femme."

Oh, excuse me, Jessica. I forgot.

- Mém té réd. - I love you too.

You're starting to make progress. Have you found another teacher?

Right. One for every country.

- For me? - A present.

I could hardly wait for you to come back.

Even now that we're together I'm afraid.

I'm afraid that you might leave as suddenly as you appeared.

What are you saying? Why should I leave all of a sudden...

when all I've waited for is to come here, to you, for a few days?

I don't know why...

but our meetings always feel so temporary...

of anxiety.

As if someone or something must come between us?

Maybe.

You're right, I feel the same.

You know, sometimes when I try to think about my life in one or ten years...

it's like - I don't know - like walking between two walls...

that won't let rne imagine anything, or hope for anything.

Then I feel like I have to run away and come here to you.

Because you can make my fear go away.

Luckily he got it and left me alone.

Madame? Monsieur?

- He was a colonel. - Excuse me.

This is an exclusive specialty of our restaurant.

It's good, you'll see!

I trust you...

Don't be scared, madame, a fireman is standing by.

- Madame... - Thank you.

Monsieur...

Merci.

Will you be sad when you have to leave this city?

Yes, sure.

It seems so timeless.

It's attracted by both East and West. Its stillness is magic.

It's our city, Gregory.

- What time is it? - 4:30 a.m.

We're out of cigarettes.

This apple smells so good.

I like your present, you know?

They're beautiful, right? It's a strange species, though.

They make little jumps but they can't fly...

even though they have these beautifully colored wings.

- We have lots of them. - Are you finished with the lesson?

How much longer will you stay?

I don't know. Three more weeks maybe.

- And then? - London.

Do you really think you can take me with you?

Do you think I can get away from here?

Everything I imagined for the two of us I want to come true.

Advocate Valinski can help us.

And one way or another you will come with me.

- Kind sir, I won't be able to repay you. - No?

However, I could express my thanks in a... more pleasant manner.

- Do you accept? - Accepted.

That must be Jacques.

Maybe he changed his mind.

Gregory?

Is all this really that easy for you?

No, but it's very important for me.

I'm beginning to remember.

Mira... Mira...

Hey, you! Can you hear me?

Is it like this for you too?

Maybe it's always like this when you're dead...

and we can't go back to tell the others.

No, I mustn't give up!

If you had joined the police instead of going into journalism...

maybe I'd now have a beautiful colleague.

You'd like that, commissioner, huh?

Ours are not that beautiful.

I think my true vocation would be banking, however.

Our friend Shoenbat could help you with that, if you want.

- No, no, thank you. - Right, Shoenbat?

Gregory, where have you taken me?

This looks like a wax museum!

Among these mummies are important people from half of Europe.

Politicians, bankers, perverted people... Interested?

No, thanks.

- Bonsoir. - Bonsoir.

He looks familiar. Who is he?

Franz Tibor, a famous pianist.

- Good evening. How are you? - Fine, thank you.

This is Mira Sherkova.

I would have never believed you were a compatriot.

Maybe you don't seem to be because you are so elegant.

Naturally you will be aware that Gregory is about to leave us.

Sure, she'll come with me.

I hope that you will help us, advocate.

I've always believed that journalism is a job that's particularly difficult for a woman.

No, on the contrary.

There are many advantages for women in our field of work.

- All doors open so much easier for us. - My door is always open for you.

It's easy for a banker to be gallant.

I, however, could open my door for a confidential piece of news.

Would you like that?

Yes, sure, sure. Excuse me for a moment.

Now let me introduce you to some fascinating people.

- Professor Karting - My pleasure.

Dr. Polonski and his wife.

Mr. Solobov from the embassy.

And this gentleman, who's looking at you, is Mr. Kuman.

- Pleased to meet you. - He's already in love with you.

- And you already know Gregory Moore. - Don't you know your old friends anymore?

- Ivan, how are you? - Very good, and you?

- I'm happy to see you! - Come on.

Dr. Borodaj thinks that...

Why didn't you tell me Greg would show up with that one?

Come one, Jessica, don't be upset.

- You know that men are volatile. - You're not funny, Jacques.

My dear Jessica.

I've read your last article on our economical trade with the Soviet Union.

Very interesting, but if you allow, I'd like to make a small correction.

And how's your revolution going?

- Have you left it at the Sorbonne? - No, in Moscow.

I spent two years in Moscow and specialized in cardiology.

Still fixated on undressing women, huh?

Here's lots of work to do in this field.

I work with Karting.

What a pity.

So, success will make you part of this milieu, then?

I hope not.

I'd better rescue I\/lira before they deprave her.

- I'll introduce you later. - I'll be back after a drink.

Gregory! Damned be the day when I introduced you to her!

- Won't you say hello to her? - No, no, no.

In this moment, I can't account for my own actions.

Yes, yes, yes, look at her.

It's not like she has any deficiencies. Touch her. You can touch her.

The meat is fresh, young, and even pleasing.

What I don't like is that she's the daughter of a billionaire...

and thinks that you can buy everything with dollars: Men, sensations...

Her sex is here. She's obsessed. You know what I mean?

She comes here to bed communists.

And then, when she returns to the ranch...

she'll tell about the thrills of the old Europe. Right, my dear?

At the ranch... I don't like that either.

She looks so vulnerable.

Our youths are beautiful.

Let's do it right here.

Let's do it right now.

Let's go back inside.

I just wanted to see how big an idiot you've become.

Come on, moppet, out of the bed.

Switch on your brain and get rid of your sex urges as I get rid of the alcohol.

Looks like Bakosh has made a nice leap. 20 meters.

Yes, bullhead, Bakosh.

He totally flatted a passerby in Meruda Street.

Alright, see you there.

- So? - A fiasco.

The Bakosh who killed himself wasn't the minister but a plumber.

A cuckolded plumber.

Over here, even fried chickens are made into political suicides.

- It' can't be avoided. - And the other colleagues?

They came, they cursed, and they left.

I waited here to inform you.

Hey! I'm sure we met!

I just can't remember when.

- She can speak. - Oh, you know, these guys are so fabulous!

- Why don't we all go to my place for a drink? - Oh, no, for tonight I'm finished.

And what about you?

Leave him alone. He's got better things to do.

Go to Mira. She's not worth the swap.

Bye.

He's really super, that friend of yours.

Listen, where's the phone?

Ms. Natasha!

- So early to the market? - Good morning...

Ah, yes, for me it's already late.

- I'll pay for it tomorrow, huh? - Of course...

Mira?

Mira, where are you?

Ivan, my friend!

It really is Moore.

It's incredible.

I've seen him only a week ago.

It can happen to friends too. You should know that, colleague.

Strange, there's no rigidity yet.

How long would you say he'd been dead?

- He was already dead when they brought him. - He's been here for a couple of hours.

Ivan, I can make it if you help me.

I'd like to try something anyway.

I'll try to reanimate him.

Do what you want, but I think it's a waste of time.

- I did the night shift and I'm done now. - Bring him upstairs. Hurry up.

- Nurse? - Yes, doctor?

- Prepare everything for reanimation. - Alright, doctor.

Nothing. Neither in this one.

No women have been hospitalized tonight.

Then what could have happened to her?

Nothing serious, you'll see.

We've already called all hospitals and police stations, so...

Nothing. Neither in the morgue, fortunately.

I'll offer myself a drink. After certain spectacles I really need one.

Didn't she leave a message? Anything?

It's absurd that she just walked out.

She didn't just walk out, she was forced to.

- I'm sure that's what happened. - Alright...

Let's assume she was forced.

But maybe she didn't come here just to visit you a couple days.

Maybe she's not the person you thought she was.

Jessica, don't talk nonsense. You didn't know her.

- And you? What do you really know about her? - Jessica's right, Gregory.

- What do you know about her? - So what?

For more than two hours we've been making wild guesses...

without finding any reason why she might have disappeared.

But it sure is strange.

She can't have vanished into thin air.

Even though it happens that someone decides to run off out of the blue.

Just like that, without warning, and without arguing.

And they walk out naked, in your opinion?

Just like that, without shoes, without clothes?

She left everything!

Panties! Bra! Everything!

And how do you know?

When you say that the girl took nothing with her...

maybe you mean that she didn't wear this...

or that.

Or are you able to swear that you know exactly...

the entire contents of Ms. Sherkova's wardrobe?

- I think... - You see?

You told me you left last night for business matters.

As far as I know, nothing important has happened.

Only now I realize that it was a trick to have Mira alone here.

That's when it happened.

Even if it was, who gave you the information on Bakosh?

An unknown person.

It was one of those anonymous callers without whom we wouldn't know much.

Commissioner, we want to help you find her.

Mr. Moore, we prefer to not have any complications...

with a foreign journalist. Don't get involved.

We're doing everything in our power to do.

Oh, yes? Then remember this:

Even if we have to turn the city upside down, we need to find her dead or alive!

Why did you say... "dead"?

I don't know. Just like that.

It's a figure of speech.

- Boris, open the investigation. - Alright, commissioner.

Yes? It's Jacques. What is it?

What?

Without clothes...

I understand. We'll be right there.

Wait here.

Press.

Come on.

Uncover her.

It's not her.

- There are too many... - It's not her, Jacques!

- Well, since I'm already here... - I'll tell Jessica!

I don't know what to think anymore.

If only we knew of other friends she had, whom she used to hang out with.

Another man?

No, a lover is not what I meant.

But she might have seen someone.

No, since she arrived, she was always with me. We didn't meet anyone.

She was also at Valinski's.

That's right.

Let's try to remember one of those old mummies.

Maybe they can help. Let's pay these people a visit.

Let's go, even though I don't know what use it will be.

I'll start with Karting, and you make a list of all the guests.

Ah, is that all...?

- Professor Karting, please. - I'll notify him right away.

Now have a look.

It can feel the pain.

As if it was alive.

It's human beings who created the limits of classes.

To make research easier.

But the world of the living is one single unity.

A completely indivisible one.

Hence there's nothing strange about this tomato having its own... perceptiveness.

This would make an interesting article.

In my whole life I won't tear a leaf off anymore.

That's impossible, Ivan.

Also good and evil are indivisible.

Two aspects of the same gesture.

Here's a present for you. Season it with oil and salt.

It's only a tomato.

Excuse me, professor. A lady and a gentleman are looking for you.

Show them in.

I love the surrealists.

I think I had to break many laws to get these paintings into my possession.

Our lady journalist. How can I be of help?

It's about Ms. Sherkova, Mira Sherkova.

She disappeared last night from my place in a rather inexplicable fashion.

Yes, I remember her well.

The pretty girl who was with you at Valinski's. What's happened?

Maybe there's a very simple explanation for it, professor.

The police are already looking into this matter.

- But we think... - I'd like to know if yesterday night...

you've heard something that could be useful.

I really don't know.

We talked about music.

We discussed Tibor's great success in Vienna and Moscow.

And she told me, she would go to Moscow soon.

You see? And you didn't have a clue.

That's strange.

She never talked to me about that.

And besides, she left all her documents at my place.

Well, if I were you, I wouldn't worry.

Women are unpredictable.

I really hope you're right, professor.

- No reaction? - No, nothing.

Don't give up, Ivan, don't give up!

What if we use the spirometer sensor?

He's been dead for many hours. If you ask me, there's nothing we can do.

Don't listen to him, Ivan! Try to understand me!

N0.

His temperature hasn't gone down. There must be a reason for that.

- Let's call Karting. - Well, if that's what you think...

Hurry up! He will understand.

Meanwhile I have to keep remembering.

It's the only thing that makes rne feel alive.

- What did Jacques say? - Nothing. Nobody remembers anything.

It's as if she never existed.

- Ah, commissioner. Do you have any news? - Sure.

The news is that you didn't follow my advice.

You seem way too bustling to be just two simple foreigners.

Other than foreigners we're also journalists as well as friends of the disappeared girl.

What are you planning to do? Interrogating everyone you know...

if they remember every period and comma of everything this girl's ever said?

- I'm doing what you should do! - Commissioner, we just want to collaborate.

As in every big city, dozens of girls disappear here every year.

This case concerns only us.

Suspicions, interrogations, investigations, everything.

- Don't forget that again. - What is this?

One of the usual threats? You won't stop me.

If you maintain this attitude, you will have to answer to someone...

a little bit more important than a simple commissioner.

And then you might be forced to stay in this country...

for much longer than just a few weeks.

Think about it.

It was a bad idea to challenge him. Now he won't get off your back anymore.

I don't care. He said it himself:

In this city, dozens of girls disappear here every year.

I want to check that story.

And you continue with the list, please. Okay?

Alright, Gregory. But listen to me: Keep a low profile.

- Where to? - Killiana 22.

Are you looking for me?

Yes.

I'd like to have a look at the last two years of the "Rudé Prévo".

D0 you prefer dollars?

- Crime news? - Yes.

- Kidnapping? - Disappeared girls.

Crime news are my passion. Hence I remember everything.

In here, there's a real and proper storage room and archive...

that would make the police green with envy.

Continue, hurry!

- Pass it! - Come on, come on!

- Now I scored! - N0, you didn't!

I'm a journalist and I'd like some news on Marika Sequince.

Two years ago she was reported missing.

I don't know anything! G0 away!

Are you her mother?

This is behind us now. We don't want to talk about it anymore.

Is it true that she disappeared without her clothes on?

- Nude, essentially. - Tell him. Tell him!

Why don't you tell him? You are cowards, that's what you are!

- But I... - Stop it!

- I don't know anything! - But she was your daughter. Yes or no?

Marika was our daughter and left us.

We don't know anything, and don't want to remember anymore.

Get lost!

- Harder, come on! - Pass the ball!

Shoot higher!

- It's 1-0 now! - Okay, come on. Move it!

Hey, you, with the red shirt!

- Do you know this old man? - Yes.

- Wanna earn this? - Yes, yes!

Good.

- Then give him this. - Alright.

Come on, let's go!

Thank you very much.

Without your help I would have never found this place.

I'm glad to help you.

Even though I don't understand your stubbornness.

Just go ahead, I'll have some fun with the dogs.

What are you looking for?

- Did Irina Dubczek live here'? - So what?

I'm a journalist.

I'm doing an inquiry on the girls who disappeared.

An inquiry...

Are you young or old?

- What difference does it make? - For me, it doesn't.

I gave up to everything many years ago.

I was a young man back then. Now there's no use for me anymore.

And Irina?

Irina was young. That's why she was of use.

Of use to whom? ls she alive or dead?

It doesn't make any difference. She's gone.

Are there any suspects?

- Was she of use to somebody'? - Somebody? Everybody.

To all those who want to outlive the others...

in order to maintain their power.

To those who look for the blood of a soldier...

or of a student who's willing to die for his ideas.

In peace and in war.

Those are the suspects. ls that enough for you?

But you didn't answer me.

Are you young or old?

- I'm still young. - That's fortunate.

So you still have enough time to understand.

Please... tell me what you know.

I can't help you, and there's nothing to find here.

I know absolutely nothing.

Irina loved music, right?

Yes... just like many girls.

They called you from New York. I told them you were sick...

but that maybe you'd come in anyway.

Here you are. I finally found you.

What did you find out?

I talked to every one of them but didn't find out anything.

The only thing was that someone else repeated that story about Moscow.

- What story? - Didn't you tell him?

Seems like Mira talked about going to Moscow.

And what have you found out about the disappeared girls?

Maybe I found a clue. There's an old man who seems to know a lot.

- Nothing else? - There's a coincidence.

Basically all the disappeared girls had one thing in common:

- Their passion for music. - So what?

I share a passion for the bottle or pipe tobacco with many of my friends.

And as for Mira, she didn't have a passion for music.

No, but there are other coincidences.

Listen, Greg, this is a strange country.

Things that seem strange to you might be completely normal around here.

Some can be understood, others not.

But why don't you want to give up?

In a few weeks you'll be in London and everything will seem far away.

Trust me, that's how it is.

Give up, YOU Say?

That doesn't go with my character.

I never gave up when someone took something away from rne.

Or when they imposed something on rne without explanation.

That's why I'm always in hot water.

Don't chase it, Greg. Maybe it's not worth the trouble.

Mr. Moore, here's a message for you. A boy brought it.

It's from that old man! He wants to meet me.

- Don't go, Greg. - He answered.

- Would you tell me what's going on? - Wait, it's not even signed.

And you want to go to a meeting in the middle of the night...

in a dangerous quarter without even...

Read it, Jacques, read it. I'm coming with you.

No, it says I have to go alone. See you later. Bye.

Watch out!

- Who did that? Do you know him? - They...

They don't fly...

They don't let them fly.

What do you mean? Who? Tell me!

They... don't fly.

- What happened? - What are you doing here?

Well... I was afraid that something might happen to you.

- What did you see? - Nothing. It's too dark.

That you went to meet someone, maybe this old fella, then the smoke...

and then you came running here like a madman.

Great, tell it to the commissioner and they'll be convinced that I'm a homicidal maniac.

And where are you going now?

Leave me alone. Stop following me. Understand?

But...

Phase the oxygen to maximum.

The cardiac muscle isn't reacting to stimulus.

Unfortunately not, but rigor mortis still hasn't set in.

It is not rare for a cadaver to retain a certain flexibility even after many hours.

- Sure, the temperature... - The temperature remained at a constant 32°.

Even when we put him in the cooling chamber.

There still has to be some oxidation process.

- Perhaps on a molecular level. - But the heart stopped many hours ago.

- It's biologically impossible... - We're not engaged in an exact science.

The things we ignore are far more numerous than the things we know.

You're right, Karting.

This can't be real death.

Respiratory action nil.

Cardiac nil, encephalogram flat.

There's no indication of any activity at all.

Yes, but the scope is registering something above zero.

The old man...

Who killed him?

Maybe the same people who are trying to get rid of me.

Be kind, sir, and help me across the street.

Thank you. That's very kind of you.

Very kind.

Who are you? What do you want?

- Out! Go away! - You're mistaken.

- I'm a member of this club. - Get out, stranger!

Go away! Go away! Stranger, go away!

Go away! Get out of here!

G0 away!

Master, there's an intruder.

- He seemed to me like a foreigner. - A foreigner?

Yes, I can tell by his shoes.

He fled this way.

We must find him.

Well, Pierre?

I couldn't find him.

I'll look for him. You go on with your work.

Very well, master, very well.

Damn... what if he went in there?

Lovely.

I was driven by an unhealthy passion for Mira.

After I lured you out, I went inside.

And after I... took her...

I strangled her and threw her into the river.

Oh, I forgot! Just to keep in shape...

I strangled two twin girls and a sexually unsatisfied 80-year-old lady.

Now if you want, call the police and turn me in.

But please, let's end this damned story.

Yes, maybe you're right.

You're all right.

Stop thinking about it. Trust me.

It's in your own interest. Take some rest.

Otherwise you'll risk to have that famous heart attack.

It's true. I'm not well.

I'll take care of the newspaper. I'll send them one of my articles.

Have you seen Jessica?

Who? Jessica? No.

She's been looking hard for you these days.

- Are you leaving? - Excuse rne, but I'm very confused right now.

- Be seeing you, Jacques. - Just go.

One more thing: Do you know the "Klub 99"?

Do you think they might be hiding something?

No way. Mortal boredom is all that is in there.

Only a toothless elite goes there. Politics, some bored rich people...

and a pack of famous and boring professionals.

Music, stamps and chess. Death, basically. Why?

No reason. I'm having visions and I'm losing it.

Forget everything and try to sleep a lot.

Damn the women.

Was it you who was talking about "Klub 99"?

Yes, Why?

Who are you?

My name is Pravski.

Corporal Pravski.

Good evening, Mr. Moore.

But... But I said "good evening", Mr. Moore...

Jessica, what are you doing here? How did you get in?

I wanted to warn you.

There's someone down there who's been watching your house all afternoon.

Must be a cop.

They'll suspect you, don't you know?

Kierkofi never accepted that you continue to investigate on your own.

And there's the thing with the old man.

I got the feeling that they're trying to incriminate you.

It would be better to give up.

Yes, maybe you're right. I'm exhausted.

It would be better if you leave for London right away.

If you want, I'll come with you.

I need a vacation too.

You're very kind.

To the maximum.

Syringe-

No! N0, Ivan! Karting!

Don't give up! Don't capitulate!

I'm very sorry.

I know you were friends.

We spent many years in Paris together.

Even Ivan has abandoned rne.

For them, I'm not a living creature anymore.

Maybe it's better to perform an autopsy.

I don't think that's necessary.

I'd like to find out why rigor mortis never set in.

Well, I'm at your disposal.

If you want...

I could perform it tomorrow during my lecture on anatomy.

Excuse me, but this helps neither me nor you.

I know it might sound ridiculous...

but something's blocking me.

I just can't understand your stupid stubbornness in this matter.

I don't understand the ghosts that are haunting you.

This country is swallowing you like a swamp.

And I don't understand why you're torturing yourself for one like her!

Cut it out now! What do you mean by "one like her"?

- What do you know about her? - You don't know anything!

She never belonged to you. She belongs to other people, to another world!

- Stop it! - If you can't find her in a river...

it's no use to look into every sewer of the city...

to make her come back to you!

You don't mean anything to her. You just didn't get it yet!

You really are insane.

And I'll let you drown in your madness... alone.

I'm sorry. I know it's my fault.

They're beautiful, right? It's a strange species, though.

They make little jumps but they can't fly...

even though they have these beautifully colored wings.

They don't fly...

They don't let them fly.

" Gfeggry? - Jacques?

I talked to the blind guy, Pravski. Remember?

He told me a lot of stuff about that club.

Did you know that they have branches in Paris, London, New York, Tokyo, everywhere?

I discovered some interesting things. For example:

In that club they use way too many flowers. Strange, right?

And in black magic, the number 99 signifies "amen", "the end". Yes.

Well, who knows? Maybe it's a coincidence.

N0, no, it's not a coincidence.

I also found what I was looking for.

The other disappeared girls and Mira didn't only have the music in common.

Listen, I'm in front of the club.

In the telephone box at the corner of the square.

Tonight I saw a bunch of people going into the club...

but there's no concert on the program.

Why don't we go there? You have the card, right?

That's what I want to do. Don't go away.

N0, but hurry up.

They were there as well.

They were butterflies!

Jacques?

Where are you?

Jacques, is that you?

Earth spittin' fire Red rain

Rain of blood

I saw human beings drinking rain

And their huge bellies swelling and burstin'

Spurtin' out money, red rain

Rain of blood

Oh, why don't you let

Butterflies with gal/y colored wings Fly free in the clear skies?

Yeah, why don 't you let

Butterflies with gal/y colored wings Fly free in the clear skies?

/ thought I was dreamin' And I washed my face

And the water was as red as blood.

My blood

/ wanted to fly away In the clear sky

But they cut my wings

I've had enough of you, of your drunkard friend...

of your witch hunt, of the phantoms that you say want to drown you!

Enough now! Do you understand me?

I know that you're a junkie.

In your apartment we found a tube which we analyzed.

It contained morphine, didn't it?

The two of you used to take drugs.

That night you injected the girl with an overdose.

Isn't it so? Confess!

Alright, I'd like to make you an offer.

If you confess that it happened the way I just told you...

I will close the case.

Accidental death.

You'll go on trial.

I'll find you some mitigating circumstance.

And you'll be expatriated.

The club... the butterflies...

I must go there.

I'm cold.

I'm cold...

I want to go back... to the club.

The butterflies...

Did you hear me?

He's talking nonsense. He needs to be hospitalized.

He's just tired.

He needs rest.

I will bring him away.

Gregory...

can you hear me?

It's me, Valinski.

Your friend.

I have to go...

Right now.

I have to go...

- I have to... - What are you saying?

Do you really want to be locked up?

You're tired.

Where do you want to go?

You should have asked me.

Don't you know that I'm the oouncilor of the club?

We'll discuss this tomorrow.

I have to go... Mira...

I'm cold.

My head hurts.

Don't get upset. You need to rest, to sleep.

Be brave. You'll be home soon.

Qpen up!

Open up, it's the police!

Qpen up!

L said, open up!

You can consider this case closed.

Mira Sherkova was killed by her lover, the American journalist Gregory Moore.

He also killed his colleague Jacques Versain with a knife in a telephone box.

He left a handkerchief with his initials behind.

Moore suffered from sporadic hallucinations and delusions of persecution...

which recently manifested in frequent states of uncontrollable outbursts.

It was one of these seizures that drove him to kill the girl...

whose disappearance he reported himself.

He had to kill Versain...

because he had found the proof of his murderous deed.

Professor Karting thinks that the autopsy...

- No, he wasn't crazy. - will show a lesion in the brain...

which was the cause of his psychic alteration.

That's not Mira. Mira was a rebel.

She tried to escape her destiny.

She refused wealth and sex...

the lures we use all over the world.

These drugs, more than any other, put one's thoughts and conscience to sleep.

And now she's sleeping.

You... will follow her destiny.

Rebels must be put to sleep, eliminated.

Nothing may change.

- We are the power of the past. - We will hold the reins of the world...

as long as there are people willing to be killed...

and to shed their blood.

And nothing may change.

Our only enemy is the thought and the awakening of the conscience.

We don't allow any kind of rebellion. None.

We need the young to stay alive.

They must become like us.

And they have to think like us.

Those who refuse will be put to sleep.

Those who refuse, will be put to sleep.

Catalepsy...

Your body will soon be found and they'll think you are dead.

Now you'll sleep and you'll only wake up when you're buried.

When you're buried.

I can hear my heart!

My heartbeat!

It started to beat again! Can't you hear it?

My heart is beating!

My heart is beating again! Why don't they notice it?

We will use this autopsy...

to demonstrate all the technical errors that could happen in an operation on the heart...

if it is not performed with the utmost precision.

In all operations in the cardiac cavity...

the surgeon's hand is of great importance.

Therefore I beg you to observe this lesson with close attention.

Gloves, please.

Gentlemen...

we'll now make a cut between the 4th and 5th rib.

That will be the area in which the procedure takes place.

It is a delicate area that requires a special technique.

Close them, please.

The slightest wrong movement...

could irreparably damage the organs and cause death.

Pay attention.

Lights, please.

Karting!

Select the area...

No!

We have to poise the scalpel in the intercostal space...

and then perform a quick and precise thrust.

Like this.