Original subtitles

(Transcrit par TurboScribe. Passez à Illimité pour supprimer ce message.) May I get you a drink, madam?

Uh, no, uh, a glass of ginger ale.

Ladies and gentlemen, what is real and what

is illusion?

Who is a prisoner?

The man in shackles?

Or the man who will not let his

imagination run free?

I designed this capsule not to answer those

questions, but to ask them once again.

And for that, I will need a collaborator.

One of you.

Okay.

I'll do it.

Mr. Dorian, I said I'll do it.

Yeah, that's right, it's me.

And you are?

Lorraine.

Lorraine Ellis.

Mrs. Ellis, right?

That's right.

Good.

This way, if you please.

Now, Mrs. Ellis will be my jailer, but

will I be her prisoner?

Mrs. Ellis, when I enter the capsule, I

would like you to close and lock the

door, and please confirm for the audience that

it is locked and that there is no

escape.

It's locked.

Oh!

There's no way out.

Thank you, Mrs. Ellis.

What you say is true.

But in reality, I am free.

Free from all the sins of the mind.

In the kingdom of the imagination.

Time and space mean nothing.

I discard them.

Thank you, Mrs. Ellis.

I am a universe away.

I am among you.

I can touch the sun.

I can touch it.

We are all free if we choose.

Let us make our own magic and announce

to the world that we are free.

The imagination can take you anywhere, and it

can also keep you company.

And this is my country.

Oh!

Oh!

Let me in there.

Get a doctor.

I think he's dead.

Would you like to get out of this

crowd?

Oh!

Please.

Oh, thank you.

May I fix your drink?

Uh, no, I don't drink.

You're wondering why you're here.

Who I am and what I want.

Now I'm going to tell you why.

I'm not reading your mind.

Just your face, your eyes, your hands.

I appreciate the consideration you've shown me, Mr.

Dorian, but...

You knew the dead man, didn't you?

I'd better go.

You've been very kind.

Mrs. Coogan.

How did you know my name?

Nora Coogan, 14 Oak Way, Canoga Park.

You had a reservation under the name of

Mallory?

You were wrong about one thing.

I didn't know that man.

But you were expecting him.

Your intuition tells you to trust me.

It's about my daughter, Mary Rose.

A man called me this afternoon and told

me that I had a reservation here under

the name of Mallory and that if I

told anyone, it could cost Mary Rose her

life.

But Mary Rose is dead.

She's been dead three weeks.

At least that's what I thought.

Thought?

She was on an airplane that disappeared.

What airline?

A company plane, Baker Aviation, Seattle.

She worked in the public relations department.

Perhaps it was someone who read about it

in the newspaper.

These beads!

That was how he was to recognize me.

But very few people besides Mary Rose know

I even have them.

I hardly ever wear them.

And you have no idea who this man

was?

You'd better wait here.

I won't be long.

And don't open the door for anyone.

Yes, sir.

1230, part of your two.

Thank you.

Everything back to normal, Maurice?

Almost.

Where's the body?

Utility room out the garage.

That is, if the wagon hasn't come yet.

Any idea who it was?

He didn't have a reservation.

Don't scream, Mrs. Coogan.

I won't hurt you.

All I want you to do is cooperate

with me.

Come in.

I'm Anthony Dorian.

Oh, Mr. Dorian.

I'm Dr. Friars, the house doctor.

You were spectacular.

How did you do that trick with the

birds?

I guess you fellows are reluctant to discuss

those things.

You fellows are reluctant to discuss some things,

too.

True enough.

Why remove the mystique?

Natural cause?

My educated guess, heart attack.

He seemed young.

They'll perform an autopsy at the morgue.

His name was October, like the month.

No address.

These are some of his personal effects.

Ring, watch, a few scraps of paper.

Would you mind if I looked at him?

Why the special interest?

When he came to see me perform, there's

a possibility that I might know him.

Do you know him?

No.

No, I'm afraid not.

Well, thank you, Doctor.

Nobody wants to hurt Mary Rose.

So just tell me where she is.

Who are you?

Is Mary Rose alive?

Mrs. Coogan, I love my mother.

Therefore, I have a thing about hurting middle

-aged ladies.

However, I do have a certain dedication to

my work.

Now, what did that man tell you before

he died?

Nothing.

Then I would have nothing to lose by

killing you, would I?

Come in slowly.

No!

No!

Excuse me.

No.

Who was he?

He didn't say.

No one ever says.

They make strange phone calls.

They die in front of me.

They put guns in my face, but they

don't say who they are.

He wanted to know about Mary Rose.

He thought that the man who had died

told me where she was.

Do you know Mr. October, H.

October?

Mr. Dorian, do you think there's a chance

Mary Rose is alive?

Well, a lot of people seem to think

so.

How would you like to spend a couple

of days in San Francisco?

How many people were aboard the Baker plane

when it disappeared?

Four, I think.

Mary Rose, Lucian Baker, Joseph Baker's son.

That's the Joseph Baker of Baker Aviation.

It was his plane that disappeared.

And there was a pilot, and I believe

a co-pilot.

Mary Rose and Lucian were so in love.

She told you?

In her letters, yes.

I never met him.

Oh, I have a picture of my daughter.

Oh, she's very pretty.

I don't know anything about you or even

why I'm trusting you.

One mustn't study a magician too closely.

Never look up his sleeve and never look

under his hat.

Just sit back, Mrs. Coogan.

Let him do his act.

We're clear of L.A. You can unfasten

your seatbelts if you'd like.

Mrs. Coogan, I'd like you to meet Jerry

Wallace, my pilot.

If you're the pilot, who's flying the plane?

The co-pilot is very capable.

Boy, that starboard engine sure sounds quieter, Jerry.

I replaced the turbine bearings on it yesterday.

You won't hear a sound out of the

Spirit.

Maybe just a whisper.

Well, it's your home.

Do you live on the plane?

Oh, wonderful.

If you get tired of a place, you

can just fly your house away.

Well, it's like any other mobile home, Mrs.

Coogan, only a lot faster.

We're about 40 minutes from San Francisco.

Oh, thank you, Jerry.

Max Pomeroy is one of the best friends

I've got.

You'll like him.

I'm sure he'll like you.

I read Mr. Pomeroy's columns.

Doesn't he have some very unconventional views about

religion?

And sex, and marriage, and soccer, and cheese.

Tony!

It's never a surprise.

Always a pleasure.

Oh, Lulu, may I introduce Nora Coogan?

Welcome.

Come in, please, come in.

Max is on the long distance to Paris.

It seems one of his magazine articles in

La Nouvelle Monde was heavily censored.

I feel sorry for the censor.

Tony!

Hello, Max.

And you're Nora Coogan.

Max Pomeroy.

I hope you'll forgive the sharpness of my

language, but, well, one compromise leads to another,

and pretty soon there's nothing left to shout

about, or to write about.

I'm sure you understand.

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

There's no liquor in the house, but we

do have a wide selection of coffees and

teas.

Nothing, thank you.

I do feel rather strange coming here in

the middle of the night like this.

Nonsense, dear lady.

Consider my home your sanctuary.

My daughter, Mary Rose, is...

a very great admirer of your column.

I'm pleased.

Mrs. Coogan, would you like to see your

room?

Perhaps you'd like to freshen up a bit.

Oh, yes, thank you.

Oh, please excuse me.

It's a very nice room.

It has a lovely view.

Are you Mrs. Pomeroy?

Oh, no.

I'm everything to Max except a wife.

Everything?

You're incorrigible.

Why do you interfere?

I don't interfere, Max.

I enlist in a cause.

That's one of my lines.

They're the best ones around.

The trouble is, they're unsentimental, as my lines

always are, and so they don't do you

justice.

Oh, you'd need a Dostoevsky to describe that

soul of yours.

One of the few individuals in this age

of numbness who can still regard the suffering

of a fellow human being as his own.

And unfortunately, I'm only a Max Pomeroy.

What did you get on H.

October of Seattle?

Nothing much.

I checked with Dr. Granville, who's a heart

specialist at UCLA.

He saw Mr. October earlier today for the

first time.

He had a congenital heart defect, and Dr.

Granville considered his condition so serious that he

wanted him hospitalized immediately.

Mr. October declined.

His body is still unclaimed.

However, I have someone watching the morgue.

Does this mean anything to you?

It might.

Dennis?

All media photographs of or pertaining to any

time I ever spent in Seattle, and any

contact I may have had with Baker Aviation.

This cassette covers the last five years.

I have three others that cover the periods

before that.

Lulu, whatever else you do in this life,

the single act of giving birth to a

child has made your stay on Earth a

complete success.

Mrs. Coogan, I keep microfilm records of all

photos taken of me in my world travels.

We're going to look at some now.

Would you care to join us?

Stop.

Two pictures back, please.

All right.

Baker Aviation Company testimonial dinner for the retiring

Assistant Secretary of Defense, June 10, 1970.

That's you at the left, two places down

from Joseph Baker, company president.

Let's take a closer look.

That's him.

Lucian Baker, Joseph Baker's son.

Lucian Baker?

Are you sure?

Irrelevant question.

Of course he's sure.

Lights, please.

But if Lucian Baker died of a heart

attack in Los Angeles, he couldn't have been

on that plane.

Perhaps Mary Rose wasn't either.

Now, this appointment could have been made from

Seattle.

The question is, can we find out from

which telephone?

Yes, we can.

The phone company keeps an accurate record of

long-distance calls.

Shouldn't be any trouble.

Pomeroy residence.

Just a second.

Wilson in L.A. Pomeroy here.

All right.

Thank you, Richard.

Mrs. October claimed her husband's body.

She'll fly back to Seattle with it first

thing in the morning, flight 52.

Lucian wasn't married, was he?

I'm sure he wasn't.

Mrs. Coogan, I think there's a good possibility

that Mary Rose may still be alive, and

the best chance for me to find out

is to fly up to Seattle and see

what happens to Lucian's body.

Mrs. Coogan, Dennis, thank you very much.

Goodbye, Lily.

Tony.

I don't understand him at all.

He knew my name, where I lived.

He seemed to know all about me even

before I told him.

You carry a wallet with any identification?

Yes.

Well, he removed the wallet, read the identification

and returned it without your having the slightest

idea he'd done it.

You're very fortunate, Mrs. Coogan.

If anyone can find Mary Rose, and I

love that name, Tony can.

Flight 70, Seattle to Portland.

There's a hearse waiting over in the cargo

area for the body.

Stall mortuary, 1125 East Washington.

Good.

The plane's arriving gate A5 in five minutes.

Mrs. H.

October, please pick up the white courtesy telephone.

Mrs. H.

October, to the white courtesy telephone, please.

Hello, this is Mrs. October.

Hello?

Sherry, run down the mortuary and keep track

of what happens to the body.

I'll see you later.

Flight 19 for Phoenix departing on schedule at

gate 4.