All language subtitles for s01e07_-_a_man_of_quality1

A gentleman to you, madame.

Madame Galli?

Yes.

Inspector Macrae, criminal justice.

Is anything wrong?

Your husband is Emile Galli?

Yes. A traveller in silverware from his
Neil and Company of Paris?

Yes.

I'm sorry to have to tell you, but he's
dead.

Dead? He was found shot and stabbed in a
hotel room in Sancerre the night before

last.

But that cannot be so.

I'm afraid it is.

Night before last at Sancerre?

Yes. Then how did he write to me
yesterday from Rouen?

Rouen?

Yesterday?

May I?

The shot was fired from a distance of
five metres or so.

From the lane?

As you saw at the mortuary, the bullet
struck him above the eye. It would have

killed him. Would have? It did.

No. He died from the stab wound here,
within a few moments of being shot.

This was found where? When I came in, it
was lying a few centimetres from his

right hand.

E .G. Emile Gallet. His own. What a
monster this assassin must be. First to

shoot and then to stab.

Certainly a stranger.

We don't have people like that in
Fonferre.

Have you searched this lane?

Myself? Nothing. Empty.

Mind you, it goes nowhere.

Nobody uses it. Well, it's over the
wall.

Monsieur Tibius de Saint -Hilaire.
Member of one of the oldest families in

France. The lane runs into his park, but
the gate's been locked for years.

No entry.

All right, son of me.

Afterwards, my hotel you're having the
murder in.

A little refreshment. Our local wine.

Light. Dry. Very good in this warm
weather.

Madame Gallet wishes to know when you
are returning to Paris.

Did her husband come down here often?
Once or twice a year. Don't ask me why.

never said.

Who found the body? The maid when she
came in in the morning.

Is your hotel noisy?

Extremely quiet.

Very good class clientele. Yet nobody
heard the shot?

Well, there was a fair going on in the
street over there. A roundabout. And a

shooting gallery.

Now... The murderer knows this.

Yes.

And then, another shot, nobody notices.

And that's where the assassin will have
come from, too.

And bad types here today are gone
tomorrow.

Shall I find out where they've moved to?

Yes. Arrest them all, bring them back
for questioning. No, no, no, just find

where they are.

Will you ask Madame Galley to come in,
please? Yes, sir.

I give you your assistance, Doctor.
Shall I send the report here?

Please.

No, you better go after your gunman.

Gunman? Yeah.

Oh, the shooting gallery.

I shall have them, Inspector. Never
fear.

This way, madam.

Ah, Madam Gully.

You have a chair?

I want to put a call through to Paris.

Quelle est l 'affaire of Sergeant Lucas?

I'll take it in here.

A glass, madam?

No, thank you.

Is this the room where Emil was found?

Yes. Oh, perhaps you'd rather go to
another one.

No, thank you. I'd rather you said what
you have to say so that I can go home.

There's a lot to be done. Even my son
does not know yet.

His name?

Henri Gallet. He works in a bank in
Paris.

I see.

How long had you been married, madam?

28 years.

Was your husband always a commercial
traveller?

Always. Poor Emil had no ambition.

My family offered him better jobs, but
he wouldn't take them.

No, whatever anyone said, he still went
trailing round Normandy with his wedding

present sample.

Around Normandy, yes.

Now, have you any idea why he should be
down here, 200 kilometres south of

Paris? None whatsoever.

Had any relations here? He had no
relations. All dead.

Any money of his own? Not a sou.

Mind you, he had once, when we were
married, 30 ,000 francs.

It all went into my father's paper.

He owned the paper?

Le Tollet.

Supported the royalist cause.

Lost money.

Pardon, madame.

Yep. Very good.

Ah, Luca.

Any report yet from Rouen? Or from
Messer O 'Neill, the silversmith?

Mm -hmm.

What?

Oh.

I see.

No, I should be coming back to Paris
this evening. I want you out here

with some equipment.

Yeah. Au revoir.

Madame, the receptionist at the Hotel de
la Poste in Rouen has said that your

husband needs to call on her once a
quarter with a pile of postcards

to you.

These she would forward at stated
intervals for a small fee.

But why?

I mean, Normandy was his area. He was
there for his firm three weeks in every

month. Miss O 'Neill has said that your
husband left their employment 15 years

ago.

Him? So you see, there's a lot to be
found out about him.

La Pointe, I'm off to Sancerre with the
patron. You'd better come in and take

over. A holiday?

A special guest of the public
prosecutor.

No, it's not a holiday.

It's a murder.

He hasn't told me another thing about
it.

He doesn't know another thing about it.
Ah, Bertrand. Right in the front.

You ready to leave?

Right away.

Good.

It's the Hotel de Loire. The room is
sealed. There's a lot of burnt papers in

the grate. See what you can get out of
them. I'd better take a screen. You

coming? Eh, no. I'm going along to the
Villa Marguerite again first. There must

be something there that'll tell us what
he was up to. Shall I send the car back?

No, I'll come on by train later.

Who are the local police?

There's an inspector.

He's away on holiday, but there's a
Sergeant Brettel in charge.

Oh, very keen.

Giving him a lifelong job to do.

Oh, and I've offered 15 francs for
anyone who saw Mr. Galley the day before

died. You may have to pay the whole of
those there.

I'm glad if I have to pay anyone. As I
can see, Mr. Galley was invisible.

Is that the undertaker?

No, a police car.

They ought to wait.

I'll tell them.

No, no.

Go through your husband's papers.

What? Your husband's papers.

Henri. This way, Inspector.

You are the son of Monsieur Gary? Yes.
This is not a suitable time to call,

Inspector. I will bother you as little
as possible.

This was his desk?

Yes.

That's an absurd suggestion that he
wasn't working for Maison Neal. Really,

can't imagine how it came to be made.

It was made by them.

Can they deny their own letter, their
border books, their samples?

Mm -hmm.

Written last month, you say?

Was this his typewriter?

Yes. Why?

An expert will be able to tell us if it
typed these.

What are all these?

My grandfather's newspaper.

Oh, yes, Le Soleil.

Yes. Dedicated to the restoration of the
royal house of Bourbon to the throne of

France.

I am a Republican.

Me too.

What sort of a man was your father?

Besides his politics, sir.

He got any hobbies?

Fishing, I see.

Yes. Of course, he was only here for one
week of the month, sir. He had a boat

down at the river.

He used to spend all his time down there
when he wasn't in here doing accounts

or... Or mending clocks.

Did he ever do this for a living?

No, I don't think so.

I mean, well, he wasn't a clockmaker.

What was he?

A commercial traveler.

And in his youth?

He hardly ever spoke of it. He had an
unhappy childhood, I believe.

He was born in Nantes and spent some
years in Indochina.

The men are here.

Now you must excuse us, Inspector.

Yes, of course. You won't mind if I
attend the ceremony.

That will hardly be necessary.

No, it is a kind thought. There will not
be many people there. We keep ourselves

very much to ourselves. There is no one
of any breeding in the district.

Oh, sorry. See, they do not damage the
furniture.

One thing, Inspector. Yes?

I return from Francais by train.

Will my fare be refunded?

Ah, Pétain.

Any luck?

Hard words.

Little offering on this one, by the look
of it. Little offering, yeah.

His clothes are on the bed.

Oh.

Hmm. Well, whatever he did, it didn't
make him rich.

Come in.

Inspector, there's a woman to see you.

Name? Madame Canot.

Her husband works next door from the
city booths.

It's about the reward you offered.

Oh, yes. Well, sure.

And I'll have a beer. Make it two.

This way, madame.

Ah, madame.

That will be all, monsieur.

Fifteen francs, they said, for anyone
who saw him.

Yes. And if they saw him twice, would
that be thirty?

Well, it might be.

I wouldn't want my husband to know I'd
been seen.

Oh, I'm unlikely to tell him. You see,
it would look as if I had been spying on

Monsieur Thibault, but I couldn't help
seeing them together.

Monsieur Thibault and Monsieur Gallet?

Of course. In the afternoon, it was.
That afternoon, there was a reward for.

Saturday? Yes.

I was looking for Baptiste. Baptiste?

My husband. He goes down to the parting
shed and sleeps.

And I saw Monsieur Thibault and Monsieur
Gallet.

How did you know it was Monsieur Gallet?

I went to see the body.

Why?

It's interesting, a body in a small
place like this.

I saw them talking together in the
salon.

It was an argument, almost a quarrel.

Did you hear anything they said?

No. I was too far away. But I saw.

Oh, yes.

Ten, five, six, boom, thanks. Thank you.
And the other time?

Tell me.

It was in the morning.

I was on my way to the butcher's and I
saw him coming across the bridge from

station. Was he alone?

He met somebody, a new, a stranger.

They both looked surprised. Then they
talked.

What was he like, this stranger?

Like him, but young.

And wearing horned spectacles.

Are you sure?

Certain.

Thank you, madam.

As a matter of fact, I did see him a
third time, but I don't know whether

would count.

When was it? It was when I was coming
out of the butcher's.

He was just going into the hotel.

No, madame, that doesn't count.

All right, all right. I got my money's
worth.

Do you think you know who the young man
is? I think so.

Well, now, I'm just going to see the
aristocracy.

And me, Pétain?

You? Plenty of work for you. Thank you,
Pétain.

Shut the door.

Ah.

Monsieur, there's one for the inspector,
too.

Oh, well, we won't let it go to waste.
Good luck.

How long are you going to stay here?
Well, you'll go out. It's the summer

season. The hotel is full.

Tell the truth, I wasn't even able to
give Monsieur Gallet the room that he

asked for. You mean he didn't want this
one? Well, he wanted one looking over

the courtyard, right over the well.

This was the only one that was free
anyway, so much better room.

Oh, no.

Do you think if he had taken that room,
he wouldn't have been shot?

Possible.

Hello? No, he's out. Look, I hear.

Father, do you look bad?

Hold on.

No waste with his pigs.

A very pleasant dry mousse, so,
Inspector, bottled on the estate from my

vines. I'm sure you will appreciate
that.

Thank you, Monsieur.

Now, it's about this murdered man, isn't
it? What's his name?

Grelley? Galley?

Galley. You knew him, I believe. Oh, not
to say knew, not to put it as strongly

as that.

I don't deny that I've met him. Of
course I had.

He came here some long time ago.

Yet this does suit you. I mean, there is
a demi -effect, if you prefer it. This

is excellent.

I knew your taste would be the same as
mine the moment I saw you. One can

tell a fellow connoisseur.

Now, where were we?

You were going to tell me why Mr. Galley
came to visit you.

Yes, yes, indeed, yes.

Well, you see, the Chantilly are one of
the old families of France.

It means nothing, but there it is. One
can't escape one's destiny.

As a matter of fact, I'm the last of the
line.

Perhaps it's just as well...

After all these things, there's no place
for them in the modern world. You were

going to tell me why Mr. Galley came to
visit you. Ah, yes. He came for a

subscription, a little offering, as he
called it.

You see, my father was well known as a
royalist. Mind you, that's 40 years ago

or more. I've no time for such rubbish.

But Galley had got hold of my name for
some list or other and tried to touch me

for a few thousand francs for
propaganda.

I wouldn't play, of course, so he
lowered his sights and asked for a

some destitute old family.

In the end, I gave him 50 to get rid of
him.

Why did he come and visit you on
Saturday?

You have had your ear to the ground, I
can see that.

Yes, he had the nerve to try... Oh, yes.

At least, I suppose so. I sent him
packing.

I didn't even let him in the house.

I know, thank you. I'm surprised you
didn't mention this before.

Oh, well, you know how it is. A name
like mine, one wants to keep out of the

papers. The poor wretch had shot
himself, and that was that.

You shot from a distance of five metres.

Was he?

Was he? Well, well.

Some tramp, I should think, wouldn't
you?

Did you hear a shot?

No, I heard nothing.

We go to bed early in these parts.

Look here, you mustn't go. Let's finish
the bottle.

Well, let's have another one.

Thank you. Now, I have to return to
Paris.

But you're leaving.

Oh, I shall be back.

Show the inspector out, that is.

I've an idea.

So have I.

As to the identity of the murderer.

Oh?

Among the fairground people I
questioned, there was an acrobat.

Yes? Well, he could creep along the
lane, fire the shot, and hop over the

and away.

And the knife wound?

Well, perhaps he's a knife thrower as
well. Did you ask him?

No. Or should?

He's moved on to Bourges. That's 35
kilometres away. By tomorrow, he'll

be 75 kilometres away. Look, shut the
door!

Oh, bad luck.

Well, how was the aristocracy?

Telling lies. But Monsieur de Saint
-Hilaire is a respected citizen.

But he tells lies.

I found out what these letters are.

Begging letters?

What's the use? I might as well chase
acrobats with him.

Acrobats? Well, it's only a theory,
Inspector, you see. Sergeant, let me

you something. Theories should always be
kept in here. Never show them till

you've absolute proof. This way, you get
a reputation for brilliance.

Now, I'm sure you've lots to do.

Serve we.

Inspector.

Shame. He thinks this is his big chance.

He talks too much. And he respects
Monsieur Dubois. Who lied about what?

About his meeting with Monsieur Galli.

That woman, Madame Canut, saw them there
together.

He said he never went in.

Anyway, I think we know what Monsieur
Galli's little racket was.

It is.

What did he say? I've got one here
that's nearly complete. I'll read it.

On behalf of the Legitimist Party, I
have the temerity to beg a little

to assist the ancient and noble family
of Boulevard Saint -Armand to live in

dignity worthy of... And there it stops.

Yeah, well, this thing is quite a good
little racket.

You see, he had a complete list of his
subscribers to his father -in -law's

wireless paper.

So he knew they'd fall for this sort of
thing.

Anyway, it's much more fun than being
commercial traveller. More profitable,

too. Oh, La Pointe rank.

Gallet's life was insured for 100 ,000
francs.

By himself?

Ten years ago.

Premiums must have been enormous.

Especially if he wasn't fit. Here's the
medical report.

He had a chronic liver complaint.

Expectation of life, three years.

See about the bruises on the back of his
hand.

Oh, yeah.

Very interesting.

However, not at the moment. I'm going
back to Paris to see the family again.

And me, Pétain?

You.

100 ,000 francs.

100 ,000 only. I think it's disgusting.

All those years in which there was never
enough money, thinking that we were

poor. I could have read law as I wanted.

Well, you've done very well at the bank.
And what are they going to say when

they learn that my father was a crook?

I forbid you to say that. He's dead.

He was a good man. He gave thought to my
future.

Besides, there's no reason why anyone
should know.

Inspector Macrae.

Oh, Inspector.

Is there any news? Have you found the
man?

Not yet.

Rarely one would think that in a small
town like Sancerre it would be easy.

Well, every movement is observed.

Yes, indeed.

Madame, I should like to go through your
husband's papers again.

I don't wish to distress you. I'm sure
Monsieur Henry can tell me all I want to

know about them.

Shall we?

Inspector, you do come at the most
awkward times. It's very nearly London.

It won't be long.

So what were you doing in Sancerre on
Saturday?

On Saturday?

Yeah, on Saturday.

It was the day before your father died.
You saw him there and you spoke to him.

Well, I didn't go to Sancerre to see
him. We met by accident. Why did you go

Sancerre? To see my mistress.

You keep her at a distance.

She's on holiday. She lives in Paris.

Her name?

Eleanor Bourdin.

Her address in Sancerre? The Pension
Germain. In Paris, she has an apartment

27 Rue de Touraine.

Will you live together?

Please. Inspector, my mother doesn't
know of our friendship.

Did your father know?

He suspected.

And disapproved?

Yes.

Did you know your father was in such
sale?

I'd have kept out of his way if I had.

What did you talk about?

Well, I accused him of spying on me.

He said that I was not to talk like
that, that I was lacking in respect.

And so I walked onto the station and
left him standing there.

Sad, sad.

What? That your last words should have
been in anger.

Yes. Petty.

Where's the typewriter gone?

I took it into town to have it cleaned.

Be careful with it. We might need it.

That's all.

No, except that I'd like a copy of your
father's photograph.

That is the only one.

Oh, may I take it?

You're hardly right.

That'll help me greatly.

Very well, but take good care of it.

Only, get some tissue paper to wrap it
in.

The frame is silver.

Anything for Mr. Galley?

Nothing for Galley.

Has there ever been?

Yes. When?

Every few months.

What? A letter.

Any address of sender?

No.

Anything on the back?

A name. What name?

Monsieur Jacob.

Thank you, madame.

Sorry.

I suppose you're going to breathe.

Still at it.

Yes, still at it.

Hungry weather.

Yeah.

I found that acrobat. You didn't arrest
him? No.

He can't throw knives.

Well, anything new?

There's a bit here from a different kind
of letter. Monday at 200.

There might be more.

The paper's different from the others.

Wonderful.

What?

Alliance.

Sergeant, will you do something for me?
When the Paris evening train comes in,

get me a Paris evening paper. Yes,
Inspector.

He'll carry a copy of this.

Ah,

there is a bit more of that letter.

Chalk.

Shall I climb it for you, Admiral?

I'm not that old.

You know,

he climbed up here. And over?

Perhaps, I'm not sure.

Ripper's door.

Yeah.

You want a claret brush?

No, a bottle of wine. Good.

It's your time, you both.

A bottle of white in the honey, please.

You know, there's a stream over there on
the other side of the wall and some

mud, but there's no mud on these,
though.

Or in his socks.

So... He must have only gone up to the
top of the wall. He didn't go over it.

But there is some mud on the other side
of the wall.

That means that somebody climbed up
there.

You think they met at the top like two
cats?

I don't know what they did.

Hmm.

Well, I don't know who you are.

Clignancourt.

Rue Clignancourt? Looks like it.

Yes, sir. I withdrew the call. Ah, good.

Will that be all?

Yes, thank you.

Amy O 'Galley.

School at Nantes, sometime in Indochina.

You married above your station.

You lived in a Paris suburb.

You gave up your job 15 years ago in
favour of confidence trickery.

But you went on persuading your family
that you were still a commercial

traveller.

Clever with your hands, fond of fishing,
an unhappy childhood and a son who

doesn't love you. And very ill.

Yes, not very long to live.

On Saturday.

He comes down here.

He's a regular visitor.

Asked for a room overlooking the
courtyard.

Does he? So tardive, I said. The one by
the well.

Oh. I see.

Then... It is his son whose mistress is
staying down here.

Then he visits the local squire.

And he comes back here.

Later that night... He's standing here.

He's shot from outside, here.

He doesn't die at once, he lives.

He'll be stabbed with his own knife
after a struggle.

Why? The bruise is on the back of his
hand.

Ah, yes. Anything else?

Burned all his letters?

Well, someone did.

Ah, we're not there yet. Where does the
insurance fit in?

Don't go, Madame Boussin.

You saved me a visit.

How did you know my name?

No one else would come down here.

It's not private.

Nobody didn't go anywhere.

You spoke to Henri?

Yeah.

Come in.

Through the window.

How long have you known, are we?

Three years.

Will you marry?

Oh, yes, when we can afford to.

But it's a little delicate.

Oh. You see, my husband was a textile
engineer at Lille, and he was killed in

accident. His firm denied liability, and
I had to sue them for compensation.

It took two years.

Well, if I'd married, it might have
affected the amount.

Have you received it yet?

Yes. And we will marry.

But really, there's not much point until
we've made enough to be independent.

Not many people manage that.

We shall.

You see, Henri's bank does a lot of
business on the board.

Naturally, he knows quite a bit about
stocks and shares.

He invests for both of them. On the same
account?

Oh, no, that wouldn't be wise.

No, my money is in my own name.

May I ask what it amounts to?

About 15 ,000 at yesterday's share
prices.

Industrials may have moved up a point or
two today.

And your lover?

About 30 ,000. He takes bigger risks and
quicker profits with his own money.

That's only right.

When we top 200 ,000, we shall marry and
move down to Provence.

Henri's not very strong, you know. Like
his father?

I never knew him.

Hmm.

Where were you on Saturday night?

Here.

In Sancerre, at the pension.

Asleep. With Henri?

With his mother, I suppose.

He had come to see me earlier in the
day.

Of course, you know that.

He wanted my signature on a deed of
transfer.

Thank you, madame.

Is it true that Monsieur Gallet carried
100 ,000 francs worth of insurance?

Yeah. What a stupid way to tie up one's
money.

Why doesn't he save up and buy a cash
register?

Jacob.

Jacob.

There it is. M. Jacob Ruklienko.

Ruklienko, huh?

Anything else?

The words as before, the figure's 200.

Might be 2 ,000.

Uh -huh.

Here it comes.

Name and the street.

That's going to mean some walking for
the one.

A little cooling down a bit.

Hello, hello.

I want to make another call to Paris.
Same number.

No, I'll hold on here.

Jackal, Jackal.

Well, if you do it, maybe we could
narrow it down to a few hundred.

The rain will have done good.

If there was no hail, check.

It flattens the lines.

The policeman.

Inspector Battist.

My dear sir.

How long have you been here?

How long? All day.

When did you come, Doctor? Four o
'clock.

You been all the time since?

Every minute.

Three games of chess, the last one
nearly over. Well, that is a matter of

opinion.

Your help is needed, Doctor. My
assistant's been wounded.

Shot? Yes.

To the top of your wall.

My wall?

Yes. I've been up there. You can smell
the powder.

Then the assassin may still be in the
ground.

Possibly. Come, please, Doctor. Has the
bullet remained in the victim?

It's nicked his ear, but he's losing a
lot of blood. Oh, I'm afraid this is the

end of our game.

Never mind. It looked like checkmate.

Good.

And now, please, will you tell me why
I've been arrested?

All right, all right. Don't tell me if I
have been arrested. Just tell me, is

this a free country? You haven't been
arrested.

No? Oh, no arrest, no.

Only picked up by a police van from the
corner I've sold papers on for 25 years.

Only brought the police headquarters.

Only told nothing but wait, wait, wait.

Well, what am I waiting for?

May I ask you that?

Chief Inspector McGree. And what does he
want?

A nice magazine, perhaps?

All right.

You give him this and let me go.

Shopping, Luca?

Ah, better on, Monsieur Jacob.

La pointe found him.

Ah, and here's all about him.

Except why I'm here.

Who sends you letters?

Oh, that?

You may suppose I too wonder about that,
but after all, it is no business of

mine. It will be to the prosecutor.

To receive letters sent to me and pass
them on unopened? For money. For money,

of course.

Well, who do you pass them on to? A
woman.

Describe her.

Tall.

Well -dressed.

Blonde.

All right.

Mean, though.

There was money in those letters, and
she would only give me a franc a time.

How did you know there was money? I
could tell.

Was it always the same woman? Who took
the letters? Yeah.

There was a man who came. I think he was
the sender.

Look, I've got that paper. When we got
it, I'll tell you. Ah.

There. Is that him?

Yes, that's him. This is yesterday's
paper. Didn't you see it?

I don't read papers, only sell them.
Besides, I haven't seen him for a long

time, two years.

Right, up with the letters again.

First the woman comes and asks me, will
I do it? I know that if I don't, the

Algerians who sell peanuts will get the
job, so I say yes.

Then comes the first letter, and after
that's the man.

He asks me about the woman.

What do I know that I haven't already
told you?

Nothing. So, he hides behind a tree and
waits.

Follows her.

But she goes into half a dozen metro
trains and finally loses him by going

a block of flats for two ways out.

How do you know?

He tells me so when he comes again.

Again he tries, but I suppose he does
not succeed, for I don't see him no

But the letters still keep coming every
two months.

And still the woman.

And now may I go?

Yeah. You car, ring down and tell her to
run him back.

Is that who put the Algerian in his
place?

That's right. And if he sells any of my
dailies, I'll put him into the car and

send him straight back to you.

Let's have a carful. We'll call out and
go right away.

There, to cheer up the invalid.

I got something better than that here,
if you'd like. The vice squad's down the

passage on the left.

Well, what do you think? What does it
look like to you? Oh, I think better

I say.

Not that. It's information.

Oh, blackmail.

Mr. Galley was being blackmailed by his
son's mistress.

At the son's instigation?

Yeah.

Yeah. I think that Mr.

Galley, Junior, must have found out
about his father's little racket.

He didn't say anything. He just squeezes
him. And every squeeze brings that

villain in Provence to step in here.

Charming way for a son to behave.

But they wouldn't have wanted him dead.

No. Unless he was going to expose them.
How could he? They hadn't even committed

a crime.

Blackmail? You know as well as I do that
under our code...

It's impossible for a son to blackmail
his father.

Yeah. The law doesn't envisage a family
like this.

Inspector Maker's office. Look up.

Ah, madame.

How are you?

Yeah, no, I'm fine now. They just
scratched my left ear.

And Mimi never liked that ear anyway.

Yes, he's here. How's that?

Madame. Ah, hello.

Yes, it's me.

No, I'm unharmed. It's Luca. I got shot.

Yes, he's sitting here now with a turban
on his head looking like a pasha

surveying his harem.

There's a man here who wants to see you.

I think he's mad.

He says he doesn't come to see you at
your office in case someone's following

him. He's the assistant tax collector
for Senatoise.

Senatoise? Not even my district.

Oh, well, what does he want?

No.

What?

All right, I'll come at once.

The man at my home says he knows who
killed Mr. Gully.

Have you ever been in the colonies,
madame? I've never been out of France.

Ah, then you cannot understand how
things are. No, no.

It is only us old colonial hands who
know.

Someone's coming. I can hear them on the
stairs.

It's my husband.

Are you sure it's not an imposter? Speak
to him. I think I know my husband's

footsteps after 25 years.

That's him.

Inspector.

My name is Potin. Louis Potin. I know
you will excuse me for coming here, but

they're so devilish cunning, I wouldn't
put it past them to watch your office.

They? The Tonkinese.

They are the murderers of Poirier Mille.

Oh. Yes.

For revenge.

The knife, you see. It's typical.

Of course, you don't know them. But I
do.

I've lived in Indochina for many years.
In Hanoi.

A bad climate for Europeans.

And very few wines will stand up to it
at all. However, my duty calls. There

must go. Isn't that so?

Yes, no doubt.

When did you first meet, Mr. Galley?

Oh, when I was there?

I suppose the last time I saw him was
about 25 years ago.

He was a lawyer's clerk.

What times we had. Oh, did you?

Yes. Things were always lively when
Emile was around.

Drink, girls.

All manner of jokes.

Well, he played one too many.

What was that?

He arranged a mock marriage with a
Tonkinese girl.

I was the best man, and a chap from the
trading company played the priest with a

couple of acolytes from the port
authority.

He couldn't help laughing. I mean to
say, Emile had made up a long rigmarole

verse.

Not for madame's ears, of course.

Even if I could remember it, which I
can't.

Not right, really, of course. Wouldn't
do it now.

When he went away, he left her. Well,
that's what I mean about revenge. The

girl's family, knives.

Poor Emil.

He was a card, though.

Was he?

Why did he leave?

He said he'd found out a way to make a
fortune.

Oh.

He was a card, was he? Yeah.

I'm sure you recognise this picture from
the paper.

How could I, after 25 years?

Time marks us all, and he'd grown a
beard.

Oh, no, it was the name that caught my
eye, and the fact that he'd been in

Indochina. I suppose the life he'd laid
told on him, though he kept himself fit.

It doesn't sound like it. He was a great
footballer. Played outside left.

Very fast and accurate.

Left -footed, you see.

Was he left -handed, too? Oh, yes.

We missed him when he went away, I can
tell you that.

I played centre -forward, you know.

Have you any photos of your football
team?

Oh, yes, indeed.

One taken every season.

Perhaps I'll be able to come and see
them sometime.

Thank you very much for your
information.

My card.

Thank you.

I think we should leave the building
separately.

Oh, so do I.

Beware, Inspector.

Your life may be in danger, too.

Au revoir, madame. Au revoir, monsieur.

And to you, Inspector.

Alarm.

I suppose it's the sun that makes them
like that.

And the rum.

Look at that.

Would you say that fellow was a card, a
lively fellow, a footballer? No.

He looks melancholized.

Yeah, what?

Oh, distinguished.

Yes, he does, isn't he?

Well, of course, people change.

Not in some things.

Saint -François, 5746.

What time would you want your dinner?

If Madame Gallet says he was left
-handed too, I'll have it at eight. And

not? Still at eight.

Only tomorrow night.

I'm just reconstructing the crime.

That's as far as you need go.

Now, I want to talk to Monsieur Thibault
de Saint -Hilaire. Oh, I think he's at

home. Well, then fetch him.

He's to come here?

Yes, in the name of the law.

Inspector, will you be dining? No, not
now, later. Bottle of wine now.

How deep's your well?

30 metres.

Good, good.

We've never been short of water since
I've been here.

Do you wish your galley over fish?

No. Good.

I'll chill the wine.

but the inspector wants to see before
it's time. The light is supposed to

Good evening, Inspector. This is a
curious spot for a rendezvous. Yes,

Come inside.

I said, did you want him here, being out
here? And you said yes. Yes, quite,

Sergeant. Thank you very much. Come in,
Monsieur Tiberius. Through the window,

you know, it's quite easy.

Do I?

Have you got a match?

I have a lighter.

I see you're left -handed.

Well, it just happened to be in that
pocket.

Mr. Gallo was right -handed. I asked his
wife.

Are you reconstructing the crime?

Perhaps. No, stay there.

Don't move.

I don't expect there'll be anybody up on
the wall, Neil.

I think you'll forget who I am. Tell me.

Very funny.

I want to know all about you.

Now, don't move. Stay there.

Now, tell me.

When did your father die?

When I was 12.

Your mother?

Soon after I was born. You were brought
up by relations?

No, I had none. I was the last of the
Sandile.

There was just enough money left after
my father died to let me go to boarding

school at Bourges.

I stayed there on the holidays as well.

For how long?

Until I was 19.

And then?

Then I almost starved until I got my
legacy at 28.

I see. From a relative in Indochina,
wasn't it?

Yes. A cousin. I never knew him.

Very sad story.

Exactly like his.

Only he never had the legacy.

He had to go on being a commercial
traveller until he took to his little

And even then, he was so afraid of his
family that he had to pretend to go on

selling silverware. He was a sick man.

He was being blackmailed and he came
down here to die.

He asked for a room overlooking the
well.

You see what he could do? He'd lower
this stone down the well, turn the other

end of the gun. He fires a shot.

His hand unclenches.

Down goes the stone and the gun, never
to be recovered.

So suicide looks like murder, and the
insurance company pay up.

Clever. Very clever.

But he couldn't get the room he wanted,
so he had to think of something else.

Now, go and get me his revolver.

Let me see it.

Wedge between the stones under the
creeper. Come on in.

Very clever.

A clockwork attachment like
photographers use when they want to

themselves in the picture. You wind it
up, and it gives you time to step around

in front of it before the spring works
the shutter, or in this case, the

trigger.

5 ,000. Made from an old alarm clock, I
should say.

6 ,000.

Not that there's anything you can do,
you know. There's a limit to the time in

which you can bring a charge. I looked
it up.

There are various charges which might be
brought.

Yes, but not murder.

You know that I didn't kill him.

Sit down, Monsieur Galley.

Tell me what you did do.

I have no need to say anything.

No, but you can come with me and meet
Monsieur Louis Potter.

And perhaps look at some photos of your
old football team in which you, Emile

Galley, played outside left.

Poet Ahmed, said Default.

All right, where shall I start?

In Indochina.

When a man came into your solicitor's
office in Hanoi to make a will.

Yes, he looked like an old trap. He'd
been living in the jungle and the fever

was on him.

He said he hadn't got long to live, that
he wanted to leave all his money to his

cousin, Tiburce, who was the only other
person bearing the name of Saint

-Hierre.

How much?

Twelve hundred thousand francs.

So you saw the opportunity.

I'll make a fortune.

Well, as a matter of fact, I was coming
back to France anyway. Things had got a

bit too hot out there for me.

But I had an awful job to find Tiburce.

In the end, I ran him to Earth and Le
Havre. He was down to his last few

centimes.

Which made it easy for you.

Yes. I told him that I was going to the
States, that I wanted an impressive name

to bluff them with.

I said he knew his from someone at
Bourges.

That's where he went to school.

I know.

And how much did you offer him for the
name Tiburce de Saint -Eliere?

10 ,000.

About 2 ,500 new francs. And he jumped
at him.

Oh, yes, he said he'd never had any good
with me, and I was welcome to it.

We were about the same age.

He had no friends, all mine were in
Indochina, so we simply exchanged

Mind you, I very nearly starved.

And then I saw a report that the old
Saint -Hilaire had died, and I was on

lawyer's doorstep the next morning.

How long before the real Tibuste Saint
-Hilaire was on yours?

Oh, he took a little time to find me,
but he did in the end. He claimed his

inheritance. Went down on his knees for
it, but he wouldn't go to law.

In the end, I gave him a few francs and
he went away.

But he came back?

Oh, yes, every few months.

Generally, I used to give him the few
odd notes in my pocket and he'd go away

quite happy, but on Saturday it was
different.

Saturday he wanted 5 ,000 or nothing.
Well, of course it was nothing.

He made a bit of a row, but I was firm
and eventually he went away.

Yeah.

And then... Later that evening, I was

strolling along the other side of that
wall, and I saw him sitting on top of

I didn't say anything, I just waited
under the tree. I thought he was coming

over, but he climbed back this side.

When he was out of the way, I climbed
over the wall to have a look.

And there he was, standing here.

And as I looked, there was a shot from
the wall, and the side of his face went

red. But he just stood here without
moving.

He seemed to be waiting.

He was waiting for the other two
bullets.

Explosion of the first one jammed the
mechanism.

Waiting for his own death.

And when he didn't come, what did he do?

He took out his knife.

He didn't seem to dare at first. And
then he made up his mind and plunged it

into his heart.

And you?

What did you do?

I? Oh, well, I did what I thought best.
I mean, after all, he was dead. Nobody

could help him.

I had a look at the gun. I didn't like
to touch it. I came in here to see if

he'd left any papers.

But he'd burnt everything.

After which you said no more and went
home.

Well, I couldn't without giving the
whole story away.

So you left the weapon in place, still
loaded and ready to fire.

Yes, but how could he? The spring was
jammed, you said so yourself. When the

rain cooled it down, the spring
contracted and it fired again, twice.

How was I to know that would happen?

You knew there was a risk.

And you knew which way the gun pointed.
Did you by any chance hope that I would

be next?

I know. I never thought of that. No.

Nor of anything else but the Bourse de
Saint -Hilaire.

There's nothing you can do. It's over 20
years since I've had the money. The

active limitation is quite definite.

Quite.

I'm sorry to be so long, Inspector.

I've chewed the wine.

Never mind, Monsieur Tartiveau. My
friend Emile here will drink it.

Goodbye, Mr. Galley.

Nothing to stop you captaining the
football team, no?

Galley, Galley.

Oh, yes, you must ask him about it. He
used to play outside left.

Goodbye.

What does he mean?

Have a drink, Galley. Is your name
Galley?

Is it really?

He called you that? What does he mean?

I can't wait to tell the family.

Surely all the evidence points to
suicide.

Who would choose such a bizarre method
of committing suicide without an

overwhelming motive? The insurance
company.

Their capital is 95 million. Your father
had been paying very heavy premiums for

ten years.

And they'd have had to pay out soon
anyway. No, I think they'll fool him

the theory that he was conducting a very
rash experiment.

Unless, of course, they learn that his
son was blackmailing him.

If you think that... Why don't you make
your accusation openly?

Because legally I can take no action
against you.

And also because I think your poor
father had enough disappointments in his

life. I'd like to spare him one more.

He stood and waited for death in that
manner so that we should think it was

murder and your mother should get the
insurance.

I suppose he loved her.

Perhaps he even loved you.

That is surely a family matter which
need not concern you.

Not in the slightest.

I suppose you'll be marrying Madame
Boursin soon.

Probably.

You get very well suited to each other.

I wish you joy.