Original subtitles

THE WOMAN WITH RED BOOTS

Heinrick?

Transfer three hundred thousand dollars to Zurich.

Convert all market dollars.

Watch the gold market tomorrow.

Buy four thousand shares.

Settle at four thousand five hundred.

Any news of the North Sea oil?

Three thousand ? How many acres.

Hello! Hello! I can't hear you very well.

Uh huh...the meeting is postponed until the 20th.

Warn Milan

I didn't receive the Harris report?

Alright, how is your wife?

And the children?

Yes, everything is fine.

Goodbye.

It's still early Monsieur, don't go in.

Or else, let me accompany you.

What happened?

-Call a doctor! -Don't bother.

Send the paintings to this address.

Which paintings?

All.

I'll send you a written contract.

We'll buy everything he produces

for twenty years.

Feeling better, Monsieur?

A bit.

I didn't sleep well last night.

How many times have I told you

stop reading in bed.

But you never listen to me.

Hey what

I'm surprised you made the trip only for the book fair.

Nowadays we sell books like potatoes.

Now what is on your mind

A new manuscript?

I must have an advance.

As of today, your royalties hardly cover the advance

I already gave you for Secrets.

The stuff that you are writing isn't

easy, the public doesn't understand it.

What can I do about it?

It is my style.

I just received a phone call from London.

Someone wants to translate your novel.

If you are really in need of money that badly,

why not accept the proposition I made you last year?

Hmm...The Perversions of the Catholic Clergy.

Yes. Why not?

I wasn't even baptized.

Damn it!

Think it over.

Hmm...yes...check to the king.

For a hundred pesetas I'll show you something.

Do you think I am still curious at my age?

Curious is possible, stingy is probable.

Mademoiselle,

would you do that for me one more time?

Pay.

Gracias, Senior.

Good morning.

Hello.

Would you sell this for one hundred pesetas?

No, Senorita. How can you ask me a thing like that?

I ask because it is all I've got.

In that case, you choose a book that costs a hundred.

Pablo!

Hello, Monsieur Villier

How are you today?

Fine, thanks.

Tell me, PabIo,

where did you find this book?

Oh you know how it is...

books come and they go.

But haven't you anything eIse by this author?

Uh...Fran�oise LeRoi...

Uh...LeRoi...maybe that is the only book she ever wrote.

Maybe you can ask around and I'll make inquiries too.

Boy, is it that interesting?

It's strange...it's reaI and yet unreaI, if you know what I mean.

No I don't.

Well, let us say it is very feminine.

Okay, now I understand

Clebert...her face changed compIetely

as soon as she saw that man.

Goodbye, PabIo. Don't forget my book.

I won't, Monsieur Villier.

Well, are you buying it or not?

Who is he?

Marc Villier, a director of an art magazine...

he lives in an apartment across the street.

He's a man who reads too much.

Whoa senorita, you took my book!

I paid you for it, didn't I?

Are we following her or going home?

We're following! Obviously!

Is there any tea?

Yes, in the kitchen.

I was at Catherine's.

For five days?

I had to get away.

Jose dropped in.

He offered me a one man show in the fall.

You must be very happy, then.

Yes, of course.

What do you think of it?

Hmm...not sure.

Look again.

I think it is too...photographic.

You said it, I didn't.

Have you found the man of your life?

No, not at Catherine's at any rate!

Oh... I see I have a rival.

You know how it is...

Does Catherine play chess?

No...

Well, what did you do there?

I played alone...

-For five days? -And five nights.

Dear Sir, I realize this is a bit forward

but nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say.

I would like to meet you as soon as possible.

Working all ready?

Your case is hopeIess.

Either you abstain like a sixteen year old virgin

or you indulge in the perversions of a trollop.

The future

belongs to those who have ideals.

Oh...na�ve and innocent maiden.

what is the source of that strange power

that I have over all women?

No, let me go. I must mail a letter.

Silence Madame, nature speaks.

You better get dressed, you'll catch a coId.

Go Clebert.

''but nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say

''I'd like to meet you as soon as possible.''

Uh, huh

''Would you leave your answer in the crack

at the left of the stairs at the morning house.''

That must be in the park.

What about the soap I received?

Not a word.

It's more advertising...here.

You're not going to answer that letter.

Oh, of course I am

and I'll wait all night long in the park for my mystery woman.

Enough of her.

She sounds like some kind of freak.

She won't come now.

Our first contact should be by correspondence.

Let us continue to write to each other.

After we know each other better, we shall meet.

I am sure of it.

Love, Isalabrynth.

Dear Mystery Woman,

Our first contacts, should be by correspondence.

Dear Mystery Woman,

Love, Isalabrynth.

Dear Mystery Woman,

Love, Isalabrynth.

Reading that letter again?

You must know it by heart!

Yes, but I love what he writes.

That's enough for you

you haven't even met him.

There are times when I wish I worked in a grocery store

''yes Madame, that will be all Madame

goodbye Madame.''

There would be no more questions.

What questions?

All my life I was plagued with questions:

Where were you...what are you doing

what are you thinking of?

Be a nice girI and tell me.

Your name is Fran�oise LeRoi, isn't it?

Why did that woman fall out of the window?

I saw it.

She leaned back too far and toppled over.

Nonsense...one just doesn't fall out like that...

She was washing the windows.

Were you with the woman?

Were you near her step ladder?

What were you doing?

Oh, leave her alone.

What do you expect her to tell you?

She is only a child, a mere child!

You hated that maid.

She wouldn't let me stay in the living room to read.

So you pushed her.

I never touched her.

Then why do you feel so guilty?

I had nightmares.

Nothing I could explain, though.

What were they?

Weird visions... so weird...

I try to describe them when I write, but

it's difficult, I can't re-capture them.

And you think that's the solution,

bombarding him with letters?

I want to know Villier,

only I am afraid I might hurt him.

I am capable of it, you know.

Even me?

You don't like her anymore?

NO.

-But she keeps writing. -Yes.

-She answers your letters. - Yes.

So you write to her.

She writes, so you think I write to her.

Well, I dont.

I don't!

I don't write to her, I've never written to her.

Then who sends the soap?

People receive all sorts of things they've never ordered.

She must think you're dirty.

Sophie, please!

It isn't even good soap.

Now listen,

I don't need anything from anyone.

I don't cheat on you.

I'm not hunting around. I don't need any mistress

nor soap!

By the way where does she mail her letters?

It changes all the time.

Nothing goes past you.

Madame, Villier?

Yes.

Life is full of coincidences

Yesterday I signed an advertising contract

..with your husband.

I noticed your photograph on his desk.

And today, I have the pIeasure of meeting you.

Yes, that is a coincidence.

Your husband seems to be terribly distressed.

Has he problems at the moment?

No, why? I mean...

He seems to be remarkably intelligent...but

has he everything he deserves?

Everything he wants?

There is nothing more paralyzing for a man of taIent

then to be preoccupied with his private life.

Excuse me, but I really don't see why...

I just hope you will understand.

I bid you good day.

I'm sorry, I'm terribly late.

Who gave you that neck tie?

Gave me?

Oh, no one.

I burned mine in acid at the lab

so I sent my secretary to buy me another one.

You should congratulate her.

She has such perfect taste.

I saw this tie in a shop window.

I described it to her.

I chose it and I paid for it!

And the invitation for tonight's concert, Marc,

who sent that?

I don't know.

I told you already...

a client.

What difference does it make?

The afternoon mail.

More soap.

I'm Fran�oise...I'm the one who invited you here.

I hope you're enjoying it.

What do you want from me?

Why do you write to me?

And why send all that soap?

What soap?

Someone hit me.

What were you doing?

I was with Fran�oise,

she sent that invitation.

And, then the lights...

It couldn't have been her who hit me.

So now it's Fran�oise.

Someone pushed me in the dark

and pulled me towards the door.

When the light went on, his wife was standing there.

What exactly did he say to you?

I don't remember, it happened so quickly.

I haven't the strength to go to the other side.

We just talked about soap I'm sleeping here.

The bottle and glasses, rinse them!

And stop that music!

Good and now

photograph everything...everything!

Fine. I want some pictures of her face now.

That's enough. Let's go.

Shouldn't have gotten up so early.

My husband is setting out for the hunt.

It is a sight one shouldn't miss.

It's not the first time.

See you tonight.

Aren't you taking a camera?

What for?

I really don't know.

Souvenirs?

Over here, this way!

Come here, I think I saw something.

This way.

Over here. Come over here.

I think I hit him.

An accident.

There's been an accident!

Good evening, Marc.

Sit down.

My wide and I have decided to sell your apartment.

We bought it only for our daughter, but

now that she's dead...

But furthermore, we no longer believe it necessary

to keep you on as director of the magazine.

My niece couldn't possibly be married to someone employed by another firm,

so we only engaged you in because

you were her husband.

The magazine must stay in the family.

You are no longer a member of the family, Marc.

A man like you should have no trouble finding

another job again.

I have prepared this compensation.

All these years I must have been such a burden to you.

He's too afraid to go in.

Clebert...tune in.

Monsieur?

Is Mademoiselle...is Fran�oise here?

Come in.

Fran�oise

There's a visitor for you.

So you finally decided to give me your address

What kind of game are you playing.

I'm not even sure it is a game.

I'm not sure of anything.

Because of you, my wife is dead.

I came because...

I don't know why I came.

I wanted to kill you.

I wanted to get even. Only...

I loved your noveI.

I like the way you live.

See what your letters have done?

Now please leave me alone.

Goodbye.

Hi Fran�oise.

Well what did he want?

What did he say!

He told me he likes this room very much.

Hey our friend came with a small bottle of vodka.

Well let's sing...dance.. ceIebrate.

It's obvious she's upset.

Your call, Monsieur.

Monsieur Tapale, please.

It's Monsieur Perrot.

What's that? What does he think?

He is my lawyer only from two to four?

Feeling better?

I've decided to stop writing to Marc,

at least for awhile.

Very commendable decision.

Mademoiselle Fran�oise LeRoi, please. -That's me.

I'm Monsieur Tapale, I'm a lawyer.

I want to speak with you a matter that concerns you.

-Oh, excuse me. -No, theyre just friends of mine.

In that case,

won't you sit down?

Thank you.

One of my clients proposes to publish the

story of your life.

Already?

I beg your pardon.

I'm only 26.

You're a very original writer,

somewhat misunderstood.

We have a proposed to start a collection called

''New TaIents.'' How one becomes a writer,

a poet or composer.

That's what my client would like to tell our readers.

And why me?

Well he read your book.

It made a great impression.

And what does--

One hundred thousand pesetas on signing,

a hundred thousand on delivery of the manuscript,

not to mention 10% royaIties and

a quiet place to write the book.

Why the quiet place?

He's an old gentIemen who likes to feel

in the midst of literary creation.

Oh. I see.

A housekeeper is there to look after the place.

Mademoiselle, you have nothing to fear.

Is there a phone?

Why?

In case she needs to call me for help.

There is a telephone.

A change of air will do you good.

Well, do you accept?

Some tea, sir?

Yes, very kind of you.

How many lumps?

Four lumps, please.

You're not very talkative, Mademoiselle LeRoi.

No.

Leonore will show you to your room.

I'll be down in a minute.

My client will arrive in a coupIe of days

but would like you to begin your work

without waiting for him?

So, you're a writer

That's the dining room,

dinner is at 8 p.m.

I hope that you don't find it inconvenient.

AbsoIutely not.

I serve lunch at 1 p.m.

WonderfuI.

That's called a music room.

God only knows why.

Probably because of that.

The house is damp.

Absolutely not.

The paintings are being restored.

Monsieur has made the first move.

He says it's up to you to make the next move.

But I don't know this game.

I suppose you play on all three levels.

He must have a book on it somewhere.

Monsieur doesn't have any books.

He doesn't read?

Never.

I'll show you to your room.

The room overlooks the park.

A bell will announce the meals.

I don't know if I told you already,

breakfast is served at 9 oclock.

He's thought of everything.

Yes.

Monsieur is aIways very thoughtfuI of his guests.

The sculpture in the drawing room,

where did it come from?

Mr. Berretti left it behind last year.

Mr. Barretti?

A sculptor.

He used to work here?

He drank... and worked here

...then one night he went away.

And he never returned.

Is that all he left?

This house is not a museum, Mademoiselle.

Your name is Leonore, isn't it?

It's the name that my mother gave me,

if that's what you want to know.

You've been working long for Monsieur Perrot?

More than 20 years.

Mademoiselle no longer needs me?

Are you married?

She's not married.

Where do you do your shopping?

I walk down to the village three times a week.

Is it far?

Three miles.

The hardest part is waIking back.

Well, he should buy you a bicycIe.

Monsieur offered me one, but I refused it.

Around here we don't like machines.

Take you, for example.

I just wonder how can you manage to think cIearly

when your fingers are busy at that machine.

Have you a secret?

What do you mean?

Well, Monsieur Barretti's secret was red wine.

No red wine, no sculpture.

That's what he told Monsieur Perrot.

You know,

there are men whose greatest pIeasure

is self-destruction.

I aImost forgot to ask you,

do you take tea at 5 p.m.?

What was Monsieur Barretti like?

I didn't see much of him, I told you.

He was strange, and he had a beard and he was very fat.

Leonore, I will have tea, thank you.

Monsieur.

You have a pillow in your mouth.

But why did Se�or put the pillow in his mouth?

But why did-- -Go back to bed, go on!

Mademoiselle LeRoi.

Already working.

Good morning.

Do your working conditions please you?

If there is anything we can improve,

you must tell us.

We met somewhere before?

Yes, you're quite right.

In front of one hundred pesetas.

That's it.

It's a very strange coincidence.

I despise leaving anything to chance.

But it does exist.

I prefer not to say.

You like to gamble, though.

Yes. Love games. Of logic,

they are challenging...competitive.

There is no greater pIeasure than winning a game.

And art?

Ah yes.

Art. Invention, instinct, and madness.

You say you're a patron of the arts,

that's quite rare nowadays.

Oh my. Whoever told you that?

Your lawyer, your housekeeper.

In that case, as a patron of the arts,

I must thank you for accepting my invitation

I know so many creative souls who would have refused.

Who? Barretti?

Why, Barretti? Who told you about Barretti?

Leonore, but maybe I misunderstood.

I never invited that welder of scrap iron here.

Well, I don't invite just anybody.

I would like you to be convinced of that.

But I am Monsieur, quite convinced.

I have a rendezvous in town, however

I'll be back for dinner.

Oh, you have a feather on your lips.

She'll never master three dimensionaI chess,

too difficult.

You're wrong.

Quite wrong. She's playing.

Good.

Alright, lets go.

Monsieur, phone.

Leonore, write this down:

My bishop to G6 level three.

Repeat that.

Correct. Go tell that to Mademoiselle LeRoi.

I thought you said you came here to write.

You haven't applied yourself very much since your arrival.

Call your boss.

My knight on level 3 to F6 level two.

Your knight level 3 to F6 level two.

Oh, and this please. Ha!

Who can tell me where my life begins?

Is it like chess?

Does the first move make you vulnerable?

The wine is ready.

Yes, monsieur.

The candles

Yes, monsieur.

Clebert...next summer we're going to Greece.

But we went to Greece last year.

Mademoiselle LeRoi.

My congratulations. You are a formidable opponent at chess.

Are you expecting any guest?

And to block off your attack I will take

your bishop with my knight on level three.

I'll bring up my rook to B7.

Naturally.

Please make yourself at home.

Mademoiselle LeRoi, you know Marc Villier.

My new literary editor.

Won't you start serving Leonore? Please.

The wine? -The wine.

Chateau Marco, 1947.

I obtained it myself and highly recommend it.

One day there won't be any more for all time.

Here we are accomplices

in the disappearance of a treasure

What a pleasure to have such distinguished guests.

Youre rich to buy yourself anything you please.

I told you, I don't leave anything to chance.

I prefer to take my precautions.

You keep the whole world in your grasp.

The whole world?

No, I am not so ambitious.

No, just the people who interest me.

Do you find me interesting?

Very much, Mademoiselle LeRoi.

Why?

I thought my lawyer had explained it to you.

To your heaIth.

Leonore, the coffee please.

It's coming .

Children have no conception of good and evil.

That's why they are so cruel.

That's why it is said that artists are grown up children.

They wish to preserve desperately their innocence.

Sometimes even until death.

Do you have children?

No, no, thank heavens.

Come, Clebert.

It is my turn to play.

I never imagined I'd see you here.

Really?

Yes, really.

Mademoiselle LeRoi.

I came here to meet a writer and discuss

the launching of her new novel.

Whatever you say.

I would have refused,

had I known you were that writer.

But I-- -But what?

Well, how are the lovebirds?

Am I negIecting my duties?

Here, taste this almanac,

it's over a hundred years old.

What are you waiting for? Call Leonore!

To cIean this up!

It's more interesting than I imagined.

And more difficult too.

You haven't seen anything yet.

I havent played my last move yet.

What are you talking about?

If you enjoy exciting situations,

you're in for a treat.

Our friend, Richard, arrives tomorrow.

I hope you sIeep well, Monsieur Perrot.

Good night.

You must be very tired, Monsieur Villier,

I will accompany you.

You seem very surprised to see her.

But you know her well, don't you?

No, not at all. I mean, barely.

I'm astonished. Your wife spoke at great length about her.

You knew my wife?

Yes, very well.

I'm an old friend of her parents.

Didn't you know?

Your wife was sure you were having an affair with Fran�oise.

Even I was convinced of it.

No.

You're mistaken.

It's true Mademoiselle LeRoi is very attractive.

Good night, Monsieur.

Leonore, I aIso wanted to wish you goodnight.

Leonore!

What is it?

Your tea, Monsieur.

Get out, you bitch!

What happened, did you fall out of bed?

No, I've been up all night.

I packed everything and took off.

Did you have a pleasant trip?

Very nice, thank you.

I see there are a lot of pheasants around here.

Tomorrow we are going to roast two or three.

I thought you might enjoy that.

Come in! Make yourself at home.

Why did you come here?

He bought my painting.

How are you coming along?

I'll tell you later.

Be carefuI.

Careful? Of what?

Well, well, is he here too?

We have all three of them now.

There's aImost nothing more for me to do.

May I speak frankly Monsieur?

-If it's interesting. -Yes.

I believe that you will have more trouble,

with this young one.

Why do you say that?

An impression.

The more difficult the opponent,

the more beautiful the victory.

Rest assured, Clebert,

I haven't made my last move.

She will fall like the others,

like all the others.

You might as well give up.

You are dead in seven moves.

One...

two...

three...

four....

I might take your queen.

Take it.

Well,

I think I'll go and do some work now.

Am I disturbing you?

Um...why did you have that friend of hers come here?

Because he interests me too.

But, what's the point of this reunion,

what are you driving at?

I haven't the vaguest idea myself.

Come along.

Is she an angel or a witch?

But have you ever seen such beauty?

Close the door, please.

I'm leaving.

How nice of you to tell me.

Leonore, ring the bell for Iunch, right away.

The soap.

So, where are you going to hang your painting?

Will you join us?

Thank you.

Allow me to raise my glass,

to your dear departed wife.

Even if you're starting to forget her.

What do you mean by that?

What are you two up to?

Marc, keep quiet.

What game are you two playing?

He ordered you to write to me,

and to sleep with me!

Marc, that's enough!

Let go of me!

Marc!

Marc, Marc.

What did you do to him?

Answer me?

What did you do to him?

It's her...

She... -She what?

I don't know.

Go on, Clebert.

What's wrong with Villier?

Is he sick?

Don't let him get to you.

That's just what he wants.

I don't need him anymore, or you.

Stop meddling in my life!

Leave him alone.

He'll go away.

He won't.

Come in.

Give me everything you've written.

I haven't corrected it.

It doesn't matter.

Five pages? No more?

-Monsieur Perrot? -Yes?

What did Barretti, the sculptor, die of?

How should I know?

He disappeared without leaving a trace.

I saw him cutting his throat with a piece of metal.

Here, in this very house.

What exactly is the secret of your power?

I don't know.

What are your visions? Tell me!

You can see what you wish, when you want?

In that case, there's no limit.

You can even dominate the world.

Maybe.

But you, what game do you play with your money?

That's my business.

You still haven't answered my question.

What question?

About Barretti's death.

You've guessed correctly.

He commited suicide.

It's almost ready.

I was there, I saw it.

The explosion was magnificent.

As an explosion should be.

In fact, you know very well...

Monsieur Villier?

Excuse me.

Here.

They were possessions of your wife.

Her parents had them sent to me.

I don't understand.

Aren't you the one who took them?

No.

Your wife couldn't have stolen them from you?

No, never.

I've never seen these pictures.

Someone, however, used them to compromise you.

Fran�oise, don't make a sound. Come on.

How did you know this was here?

I looked around.

What do you see?

Nothing, it went away.

Come on.

Look, it's Barretti!

Look.

Ottomere.

You remember he hung himself three or four years ago

in his studio in New York.

Lets get out of this place.

No, I'm staying.

If you stay, I stay.

You can get me to do anything.

Would you really do anything for me?

All but give up painting.

Sacrificing her queen was a stroke of genius.

But I will pin down her rook.

She'll need time to figure it out.

She is sure to lose

on all fronts.

I must thank you.

You've done me a very great service.

How?

You have cured me.

Honestly.

If you only knew all the stupid things I've done.

The letters you've received from Marc, for example:

it was I who wrote them.

But why?

I don't know. It is absurd.

It's like those suicidal artists

I never pushed them to do it, mind you.

I was merely... an observer, guiding them.

For what purpose?

The death of art.

What a lofty ambition. Such folly.

All those years wasted. Art will die on its own,

it doesn't need me to do it.

Lets forget all that now.

It's a beautiful day, so peaceful in the country.

I adore picnics.

Where's Marc?

He feIt like taking a waIk, he'll join us soon.

When I was a little child,

I would go on picnics like this with my mother.

She wore a magnificent fur coat,

and long gIoves with only the tips of her fingers showing.

It was in the Alps.

Above the cIouds.

It seemed there was no one eIse on Earth but us.

It's very important to know how to carve your bird.

To know how to hunt it too,

to wait for it, stalk it, to shoot at the right moment.

Clebert!

Monsieur.

That's thunder I suppose.

No, Monsieur.

I wonder why Villier hasn't come yet.

Fran�oise...wait!

Marc!

It was Perrot who wrote those letters.

It was all his doing.

Clebert, help me.

It's all over now.

Lets go.

The three of us?